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redorich · 4 years ago

Note

(Hermit Canyon AU)

Eventually, the Hermit seems to get attached to Puffy. It makes sense- it's been trading gifts with her for months now, and has even shown itself to her a few times, albeit while invisible.

The other SMPers don't think much of it at first. The more curious members ask Puffy questions about The Hermit sometimes, but she knows little, so they quickly give up. Occasionally someone will try to explore the ridiculously trapped town, but they give up once it's obvious they're not getting in.

The trades grow more and more valuable, and one day Puffy opens her barrel to find a beacon, and enough iron to fully power it. She's stunned, naturally. To think the Hermit is so capable it can kill a Wither just to give a beacon away- she can barely believe it.

(In actuality, they cheesed it on the Nether roof, but she doesn't know that)

She does try to hide it, but word gets around, and after another few failed raids on the town (and some rumours that the Hermit can teleport), things settle down again, as much as they can on the SMP.

Then someone steals Puffy's beacon. {You decide who, because I. don't actually watch DSMP, admittedly.}

Puffy, naturally, is devestated- she can't imagine the work the Hermit put into getting it for her in the first place (the most time-consuming thing was getting the Wither skulls, and it wasn't even that bad). But there's not really much she can do, so she carries on.

Except, the next day, the thief wakes up to find their house full of chickens, Puffy's beacon missing, and every single empty space in their chests filled with strategically renamed light grey stained glass panes.

They go outside to find the entire contents of a cave spider spawner on their front lawn. Alongside a ravager. With speed potions. Renamed Pamela's Revenge.

(Cue half the SMP trying to find out who Pamela is)

Puffy, meanwhile, wakes to find her beacon back in its rightful place, and a beautifully terraformed garden outside her house (Scar accidentally detonated a creeper and naturally had to fix the hole...and then went a little overboard. But it's fine.)

op i want you to know that i considered just posting your ask, because it’s already So Good and practically a fic on its own, but i really wanted even more content so i wrote it myself. ANYWAY here’s sapnap’s terrible horrible no good very bad day xD

It’s risky, doing anything on the wide open Nether roof where anyone can see. Hell, using a beacon at all is risky for the Hermits. Still, they’ve got all sorts of farms and copious amounts of materials at their fingertips. They’re past early game, stuck in mid-game while they wait for Etho to scope out more locations, while they build the second Upside Down (which Grian has named the Upside-ier Down), while they build their joint bases miles out from civilization.

Having a beacon would make the process faster, they reason to themselves. They certainly aren’t risking being discovered just because they’re bored and getting a beacon is an excuse to do something. And hell, Tango made that giant, super-efficient wither skeleton skull farm right next to his double blaze spawner farm, so they might as well mass-produce Nether stars by killing multiple Withers. It’s not that difficult.

On another note, it’s after they gift Puffy one of their many beacons, in addition to a kit of iron blocks for powering the beacon that the Hermits realize that while their gifts are increasing in expense, Puffy’s are... not. So, if Puffy’s around average in the Dream SMP economy, they’ve figured out where most players meet their limit. She hasn’t stopped dropping by, though, which is nice. Her gifts become increasingly handmade, in lieu of upping the ante on material wealth. The Hermits suppose that hand-crafted items have a value that extends past money. Each and every one of them has something that she’s made for them, whether it be a shawl, a blanket, a set of earrings, a bracelet, or a pair of socks.

Apparently the beacon is more of a Big Deal than the Hermits thought. After all, the rainbow castle has several. However, the Hermits realize that they’ve been shortsighted. While it is true that the rainbow castle has several beacons, the castle is the only place that they’ve seen any beacons.

Sapnap steals the beacon. He doesn’t particularly need it, but he wants it, and stealing is fun. Maybe if he’s lucky, he’ll even start another minor war over it. He hasn’t fought Puffy very much. He wonders if she can put up a good fight.

Puffy’s-- not distraught, but she’s upset. That was a gift from the Hermit, a friend who she’s been pulling out of its shell. She doesn’t have much use for a beacon, but then again, neither does Sapnap; he’s just a dick. Just in case, Puffy leaves a note with the rest of the items she leaves in her barrel:

Dear Hermit,

I’m very sorry for losing the beacon you gave me. I made the mistake of keeping it in a normal chest instead of an Ender chest, so Sapnap stole it. I should have seen that coming. I’ll try to get it back, but if I don’t, please know that I didn’t throw it away.

Thank you,

Puffy.

Sapnap wakes up in the middle of a lake. His mattress is floating, and when he tries to paddle back to shore (once he’s done screaming), the mattress tips over and he receives an unpleasant fishy wakeup call. He trudges into his house for a shower, and finds that the showerhead, as well as all his faucets, have been stuffed with ramen noodle seasoning.

He looks in his chests for a bucket of water. The first chest he checks is not only full of light gray glass, but also trapped. When he opens it, pufferfish fall out of the ceiling and bounce around. He dies to their poison twice before they finally die. The next chest he opens also has light gray glass, no water buckets, and a trap. This one, though, only releases a metric fuckton of chickens into his house. It’s fine. This is fine.

As he looks through his chests, he realizes something. They’ve got glass in them, sure, and they’ve been raided of water buckets, but... the beacon is gone. None of his other items, like enchanted netherite tools or literal diamond blocks, have been stolen. Just Puffy’s beacon.

Whoever pranked him missed a bucket, so he promptly dumps it over his head in an effort to smell less like pond scum and spicy chicken noodles. It takes the whole day to get his base back in order: he’s got to clean out all the faucets, empty all the glass from his chests, throw out all the dead pufferfish, and slaughter chickens by the dozens.

He can’t sleep. Are you fucking kidding. He can’t sleep. A soft hiss catches his attention, only audible now that the quiet of night has fallen. Is there somehow an unlit cave under his base?

Nope. As he steps outside onto his front lawn, he sees a daylight detector near the door that he missed when he came inside this morning. The daylight detector seems to have released approximately fifteen bajillion cave spiders onto his lawn, and they’re all angry, so he shuts the front door in their faces and goes back inside. That’s a problem for tomorrow’s him.

Horns spear the wall right next to where Sapnap was standing five seconds ago. He yelps. What the fuck is a ravager doing on his front porch? And why the FUCK does it have speed potion particles?!

<Georgenotfound> who is pamela’s revenge

<Sapnap> ;RVAER

<Sapnap> HELP

<Sapnap> RAVEAGER

<Georgenotfound> good night sapnap :)

<Sapnap> GEORGE OYU BITCH HLEP ME

<Georgenotfound> zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

-------

Puffy sees a whole lot of nonsense in the chat when she wakes up in the morning, and promptly decides to ignore it. She goes about her morning as usual, heading out to her front porch to sip a cup of coffee in peace.

She... has a garden now. Hm. That wasn’t there before. And come to think of it, neither was the beacon she lost.

“Thanks, Hermit,” she says with a smile.

-------

Stress sips a cup of tea, having breakfast in Grian’s rustic sitting room with a few of her fellow Hermits.

“D’ya think we went overboard?” she says.

“...Nah,” Cub says.

#mcyt #hc x dsmp #hermit canyon au #captain puffy #goodtimeswithscar #ethoslab #grian #tango tek #sapnap #georgenotfound #stressmonster #stressmonster101 #cubfan135 me.cpp #rayveewrites

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sinnamonrolle · 3 years ago

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Headcanons: Endearments [Obey Me!]

❀ gender neutral ❀

! slight spoilers for Belphegor and Solomon !

I was thinking about this for a while, and I really want to share it with everyone else too.

These are gender neutral terms of endearment! And no matter how big you might be, you'll always be their lovely little human being ;)

Here are my headcanons for the terms of endearment from all 12 characters, including my reasoning for them! I had fun thinking about them.

Demon Brothers:

Lucifer

"Vesper", with variations such as "little Vesper" or "my little Vesper"

Lucifer means "Morning Star", and so after some digging online, there's actually a name for the "Evening Star'' as well, which is Vesper. Lucifer and Vesper both refer to the planet Venus, and so the reasoning behind why Lucifer would call you "Vesper'' is because he sees you as his other half, the other side of him. Together, you and him make up the brightest star in the sky.

I suppose it is more of a nickname than a term of endearment, but it's all the same. It's filled with love and adoration for you! No matter the time or place, he will always call you "Vesper" because it is also how he shows his pride in you, but he uses "darling" just as much. Leave it to him to call you his "darling Vesper."

Mammon

"Fortune", "little fortune", "my little fortune"

When you hear Mammon, of course you will think about money and physical possessions. The word "fortune" can be understood as related to the amount of owned assets, but also related to luck, chance, and destiny. So, to Mammon, you are his everything—his human, his wealth, his future. You are priceless in every way, and he’s so lucky, so fortunate to have you.

The endearment “little fortune” comes about accidentally. Mammon blurts it out one day, and he hurries to correct himself because “wait, wait, wait, I didn’t mean little fortune as in the amount because ya ain’t small at all. You’re really big—agh, that’s not what I mean! It sounds cute, okay! Little or big, it doesn’t matter. I won’t ever spend you.”

Leviathan

“Pearl”, “Henry”

I think we all know where “Henry” comes from, but what about “pearl”? Firstly, pearls are from the sea, which Leviathan is strongly related with. Leviathan himself has reptilian features—his snake-like tail, his birthmarks that resemble scales, his coral-like horns—in fact, Leviathan is known as a sea serpent. Pearls are treasures of the sea, and they are extremely beautiful as well. But there is also another connection you can make, this time with East Asian mythology. In East Asian mythology, dragons are often related to the sea, even residing in them. They are long, serpentine, wingless, but they still have two arms and two legs. They also are often depicted with a pearl, and this pearl is very, very important to the dragon. Seeing as Obey Me is a Japanese game, I think connecting Levi with an East Asian dragon isn’t too big of a stretch. Actually, there are many similarities, but there’s no need to dig into it today.

You know how Leviathan is. It will take Levi a long time before he begins using terms of endearment with you because of his insecurity. However, once he feels confident enough in using them, he’s super dramatic (and low-key romantic) with them. He’s watched enough anime and played enough games to know many terms, but is he able to use them? It’ll depend on how comfortable and confident he feels.

Satan

“Precious”, “beloved”, (and of course) “kitten”

Satan is extremely well read. This means that his arsenal is particularly wide. “Kitten” is a term that many of us may find familiar, and understandably so. We all know Satan’s love for cats. But I think Satan, as a being who is born from emotions, is more sensitive to them than others, and they make up an important part of him. Which is why, despite his large arsenal of endearments, he uses the “simpler” ones, but the ones that he does use, there’s a lot of emotions behind them. You are simply precious to him, and the most befitting endearment for it would be “precious”. There is nothing sweeter than a pure “beloved” filled only with love for you.

Asmodeus

“Treasure”, “jewel”, “my love”

If Asmo is the jewel of heaven, then you are the “treasure” of his life. You are as beautiful as a “jewel”, and you reflect the light like a “jewel” as well. The love they show you is reflected back twice as strong. For Asmo, his endearments for you don't come from the physical value behind them. In fact, Asmo himself doesn’t care for treasures or jewels, but out of them all, you are his “treasure”, his “jewel”, his “love”. He puts you equivalent (or maybe even higher) than himself, and he wants to show it to you not only through actions, but words as well.

Beelzebub

“Pudding” (and perhaps, other cute food endearments)

We all know how much Beel loves food, and we all know how much Beel loves his family, and so it’s almost obvious why Beel calls you “pudding.” As a human, you are squishy, squishier than demons, and you are also delicious looking. You smell good, you look good, and the comfort that food brings to Beel is equivalent if not greater than how you soothe and comfort him.

Although, while Beel loves calling you cute endearments, it makes him hungry, so he has to hold back on them. I guess that means more endearments when he’s full, but when he has to cope with his hunger and there’s no food around, Beel calls you by a wonderful amount of endearments. You do have to be careful though! He might decide to sample you. (In what ways? Who knows, heh.)

Belphegor

“My little sun”, “little sun”

He doesn’t call you his “little sun” because you are little, but because Beel is his bigger sun. Beel was in his life first, and then you came. But the order doesn’t really matter to Belphie because you are still a very important sun to him. In the twins’ bedroom, Beel has a sun motif on his side, and Belphie has a moon motif. Belphie is more comfortable with the darkness (literally and figuratively), so to him, you are his light that shines through and guides him to a better place. You are everything that he needs to survive.

Belphie’s trauma has affected him greatly, even if it doesn’t seem like it. So it takes a long time until he gets really attached to you, but when he does, he can’t live without you. Calling you his little sun is placing you in his heart, at the same level as Beel (Or perhaps even higher).

Other Demons:

Diavolo

“Little gold nugget”, “gold nugget”, “nugget”, “little nugget”

Contrary to how it may first sound, “little gold nugget” isn’t to diminish your value or your worth. To Diavolo, who probably has a low-key obsession with gold, “little gold nugget” is super adorable. He’s also never really been called an endearment before, nor has he ever called someone by one, so this is all new territory to him. Also, as a future king and a prince, everyone is important to him as his citizens. Diavolo is the king above all nuggets, but you in particular are his “little gold nugget.” He also wants you to call him by an endearment, a term only used for him, but that is something for you to decide on.

Barbatos

The closest thing to an endearment would be “Your Grace” for Barbatos. “Puffling”, if you can get him drunk enough (I’m somewhat joking here).

If you’re expecting something else, I’m afraid Barbatos is too polite, too cautious to simply throw around the usual terms of endearment. In fact, I think from the way Barbatos is, he turns a way of addressing nobility into an endearment for you only. However, if you do manage to worm an endearment out of him, he will jokingly call you a “puffling” after baby puffins. I think he finds them adorable, but it isn’t a serious endearment. Barbatos won’t be caught dead calling you a “puffling”—not because he doesn't want to—but because it’s not at all appropriate. He has an image to keep.

Angels:

Simeon

“Little sparrow”, “little droplet”, “little lamb”

“Little lamb” is a familiar term, and “little sparrow” is also something Simeon calls you. A sparrow represents many wonderful things, like joy, love, good fortune, luck, and so on, and Simeon considers you every one of those things and more. Like sparrows, droplets are also fragile—ephemeral in their lives. Droplets fall and disappear so easily. But droplets also signify uniqueness in that one droplet is separated from other collections of water. To Simeon, you stand out among others. You are wonderful, joyful, full of life, and so, so beautiful.

Luke

“Lamb” (perhaps “lambling”? I’m really unsure.)

He means it in a platonic way!! Like a guardian angel to a baby human, except that baby human is you.

We all see Luke as a child, but Luke, in this case, doesn’t see himself as one. He’s way, way older than you, and so while he is still immature among other angels, he’s lived way longer than you have. It might seem weird to have him call you an endearment, but you are a lamb in his eyes—pure, kind, gentle. You are someone who must be protected! And so while Luke doesn’t use endearments too much with you, he will use it when he’s feeling a little playful or dramatic. He prefers your own name because he loves how it sounds.

Human:

Solomon

“Little star”, “breadcrumbs” (as a joke)

Solomon has lived for who knows how long. As a human who has lived for that long, his mentality towards certain things might be a bit different from a regular human. Attachment is difficult for him due to his lifespan, and this is reflected in his attitude. Many people are fleeting in his life. The mundane becomes hard to appreciate after so long. Even memories erode after a lifetime. There is no particularly heavy sentiment behind “little star”, but he has begun to consider you as a part of his destiny, a star in the constellation of his life. And like a star, you appear so far away from him, so unapproachable due to how you are always surrounded by others. He can only appreciate you from afar, until you let him close.

“Breadcrumbs” is a lighthearted endearment that he once heard somewhere in the human world. When he calls you “breadcrumbs”, he doesn’t mean anything at all by it, only that it sounds absolutely ridiculous but also so adorable at the same time. It’s an amusing endearment he heard in his long, long life. “It’s the joy in the little things, and breadcrumbs are exactly that—little things,” Solomon will say, but no need to take him seriously. You will always be the star twinkling brightly in his life.

-------

Feel free to add what you think the characters would use as terms of endearment! I wanted something special for each character, so that's why this post was made lol

(If there are any errors, I will catch them sooner or later. Please, don't mind them.)

Masterlist!

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bnhaficsforthesoul · 4 years ago

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BNHA College AU - Dabi

Major: Graphic Design

Minor: Business

Sports: Nope

Clubs: He’s not necessarily in the Shogi club, but he competes in tournaments just because he’s so good at it

Dabi has two reasons for going to college: to prove to everyone, mainly his dad, that he can be successful despite what they say, and to force his dad to spend a lot of money

He hangs out with all the labeled creepy people (save for Keigo, but even then he won’t hang out with him in public cause Keigo’s pretty popular), cause of his scars and resting bitch face people are generally too scared to talk to him so he stayed with the people who didn’t judge him for that

He got his scars in an accident when he was young, the house had gotten set on fire and he got trapped inside after saving his little brother Shouto, who luckily got out with only a scar on his face

Overall dabi was lucky to have survived the ordeal at all, having inhaled so much smoke and being so burnt, but by some miracle he turned out fine, and his scars, other than being a permanent dark red and the skin being rough, weren’t too bad (basically he has the scars in the same general areas but they look more like how real burn scars would – there’s no staples anymore either)

He also changed his name as soon as he was old enough, wanting to create his own identity rather than the one his dad had crafted for him

Dabi works at a tattoo shop near campus, he’s always been pretty good at art and loves tattoos, so he decided he might as well get a job doing something he actually likes. He’s given himself a few tattoos too, and all of his piercings

Him being a graphic design major stems from his love of drawing, but him choosing graphic design rather than fine art or just drawing was due to him wanting to try a new medium, and then enjoying it

Then his business minor is so that he can open is own tattoo shop - he feels that owning his own shop and being successful in it is the best way to spite his dad, so he is all for it

He also lives off campus in his own apartment, he didn’t feel like bothering with getting a roommate

You meet him when you go into the shop to get a tattoo, you just had the sudden urge to get a tattoo so you walked in there and asked if there was any space for you, and turned out Dabi was free

You told him the basic design that you wanted, but also told him that he was free to add whatever he wanted which he greatly enjoyed, and he went to work

Normally dabi would kinda just do the work and move on, maybe make a few comments here and there if he felt like it, he wasn’t much of a talker anyways

But hey, you were cute, so he couldn’t help flirt a bit – and you didn’t seem creeped out by him like a lot of people tended to be, so he took that as a sign that you didn’t mind it

And you definitely did not mind it – you weren’t expecting the person tattooing you to be so hot, but it was for sure a welcome surprise. And you’d be lying if you said the smirk he flashed at you occasionally didn’t give you butterflies

After the tattoo was finished, it didn’t take that long since you had gotten a fairly small one, you were doing the stuff for payment and he went, “ya know, if you go on a date with me, maybe I’ll give you a discount on the next one”

Yes he was technically bribing you for a date, but again, you were cute and didn’t give him a weird look when he started flirting, even flirting back a couple times – so he was just tryna shoot his shot

“I’d like that. Even without the discount, though that would be a nice bonus.”

Sexy tattoo man asks you on a date? Who are you to say no

So you give him your number and give him a little wave before running out of the shop, already wondering where he was going to take you

Now, Dabi never wants to come across as desperate, and in all honesty he really isn’t since he’s not even looking for anything serious, so he decided to wait a few days before even texting you – making you worry that he had decided he didn’t wanna go out with you anymore

It wouldn’t be the end of the world if he didn’t, it’s not like you’d been crushing on him for months or anything dramatic, you’d met the guy once – but he was pretty, and fun to talk to, so you were hoping you’d at least be able to see where it went

Luckily though, late at night a few days after you had met him, you finally get a text, reading “hey its dabi, the guy who tattooed you. Still interested in that date?’

You almost ended up texting him right away, ready to get on with it. But nah, he waited 3 days, you can at least wait an hour or two – thank god you didn’t have your read receipts on

Eventually you got to it, responding ‘Hey – yeah I’m up to it. What’d you have in mind?’

Finally deciding he would save the both of you the time, he responded quickly, ‘nothing fancy, I’ll surprise you though.’

You said that was fine, and that was it for the night. You were just gonna wait until he told you when, and didn’t worry about it too much

But then that night, at around 7pm, you got another text: ‘you busy rn?’

You weren’t, so you said so, and he said ‘can you meet me back at the shop in like 30 min? We’re going out tonight.”

Bold of this man to not only assume you could make it in 30 minutes but to just spring your first date upon you like that – but you weren’t going to complain about it, other than the fact that if you wanted to get decently ready you’d have to sprint over there (you were lucky that the shop was close to campus – and that he probably assumed you went to the college here since you never told him)

But you threw on the first clothes you deemed acceptable and got any other small touch ups finished in the next 20 minutes before grabbing your phone, keys, and wallet and booking it towards the tattoo shop – only stopping to look at your reflection in a car window once you were up the street to make sure you still looked decent

Why were you putting in so much effort for the hot emo dude? You’d never know. But you wouldn’t be disappointed either.

You soon walked into the shop and were almost immediately greeted by Dabi. He was wearing ripped black jeans and an oversized black hoodie with black converse, simple but nice

“So what are we doing exactly?”

He didn’t say, just walked out of the shop, so you followed him back into the parking lot where he directed you to an expensive looking matte black car – which side note, he was very proud of. He bought it with his own money (I don’t know car breeds, forgive me for not specifying what type of car it is)

The car ride was pretty vibey – he has awesome music taste but he kept it just high enough so that you could hear it but low enough so that the two of you could talk, he generally doesn’t like small talk but you were pretty interesting so he let the conversation go wherever you led

Eventually you arrived at a big park with a lake and a bunch of tall trees, and you got out of the car while Dabi went to grab a backpack from the trunk – then he led you over to a nice little clearing right next to the lake and pulled out a blanket from his backpack and laid it out so you two could sit

“like I said, nothing fancy. We’re just gonna hang out.”

He had a whole bunch of snacks and drinks in his backpack, and you just spent the next couple hours talking about anything and everything – he loved when you asked him about tattooing and stuff, gave him a chance to brag, and he asked you a bunch of probably too personal questions just because he thought it was cute seeing you flustered

In the end, the first date was a success – and it led to many more. Many of which weren’t even classified dates, just more times where he would randomly text you to hang out, and each time you found yourself liking him more and more, and he shockingly felt the same

At the beginning, the best and most dabi could hope for with you was a kind of friends with benefits situation. He didn’t want a real relationship, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to be close with someone

But then you came along, and despite you being very good looking of course, he wasn’t just waiting for the right time to ask if he could fuck you, he just wanted to be around you and actually spend time with you – not just turn you into someone he could fuck when he was bored

Regardless, he’s not very good at getting attached to people, it scares him, so as soon as he realized he caught actual feelings he kinda ghosted you for a bit, worrying you that you did something wrong – he wouldn’t respond to your texts or anything

So this time you stormed your way down to his apartment, where he had brought you a couple times to watch movies and whatever, and knocked on his door

Dabi, much to his disdain, was happy when he saw you standing there. So because of that, he didn’t immediately shut the door, and you walked inside before he could protest

“Are you okay? Did I do something wrong? Why’d you disappear all the sudden?” Even outside of your crush, you considered him a friend, and you had hoped he did too, so you were worried

“It’s nothing… I’ve just been busy, don’t worry your cute little head about it.”

You rolled your eyes, “Dabi, I’m serious. What’s wrong?”

He sighed deeply, running a hand through his messy hair and staring back at you, “It’s – it’s stupid. I don’t want to talk about it.”

God he hated how concerned you looked, he could tell you cared about him and it weirded him out, but he loved it so much. He couldn’t help himself, as much as he wanted to push you away, he knew that he wanted to keep you around

“Still… if you change your mind, I’m here you-“ you didn’t even get to finish your sentence before his lips were on yours – something you very much weren’t expecting to happen today but you sure as hell weren’t complaining

“That’s what’s wrong. I think I love you.”

You could see that he looked scared, but he wasn’t pulling away, so you wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed a soft kiss on his lips, “Well, if it makes you feel better, I think I love you too.”

There was no formal asking out, just from that day on you were his. It still took some time for him to get used to it, not being familiar with how to act in a relationship, but with your help he got the hang of it

He loves when you watch him draw, he’s dubbed you his muse and therefore you being there helps inspire him

Wants to get matching tattoos with you eventually, and you know that if you want any more tattoos he’s gonna be the one to give you them, he might even let you do a tattoo or two for him

He’ll also do all your piercings for you, he’ll dye your hair for you - we love a boyfriend who supports you spicing up your look

Aw but you two dyeing each others hair would be so cute

Your relationship is pretty chill, like you guys only ever hang out at his apartment or go on dates in the middle of the night, sometimes clubbing or sometimes just walking around town, whatever you feel like honestly

You do go back to that one spot by the lake a l o t, you both love it there because it’s just full of memories of each other

When you met his friends you were probably a bit creeped out by them, you’ve never had any bad experiences with them but most of them looked pretty angry. But toga and jin were quick to accept you, and so you got to become friends with them too which was really important to Dabi because his friends are basically his family

When he told you about his dad – not him having to stop you from walking into his dad’s house and beating the shit out of that fucker, despite him very much wanting to watch you do it (he just doesn’t want you to get hurt/have to deal with the consequences of what that could bring – but if you were to bring out them fighting words during the next family dinner he’d definitely be very proud)

You’re welcome to move into his apartment whenever you want, after he’s decided he loves you you could propose and he’d probably say yes honestly- so you moving in isn’t an issue to him just tell him and he’ll help you bring all your stuff over

You might as well honestly, you’re there in most all your free time. You already have clothes in his closet, your school stuff is next to his - it just makes things so much easier

Besides, then you get to be around your hot emo bf even more than you already are, doesn’t that sound fun

#dabi #dabi x reader #dabi imagine #dabi headcanons #dabi college au #touya todoroki x reader #bnha #mha #bnha college au #dabi as a tattoo artist just feels right ya know

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ready-to-obeyme · 4 years ago

Note

Idk how to phrase this but can you (y'all?) give some thoughts on what the brothers would say or do when they realise the mc shares a birthday with them, or its the day before or after ?

Prompt: Demon Brothers share the same birthday as MC

//hey there! this is such a cute additional concept to the birthday one so thanks for sending it in! it was fun to work on :))

Lucifer

“Is that so? What a surprise.”

A little pleased when he first hears this; probably teases you about having to share a birthday with him but otherwise doesn’t comment on it much AT FIRST

Then he realizes that he actually looks forward to celebrating his birthday a lot more because he knows it’s also your birthday

He likes being able to share this day with you (somewhat smug about it in some cases if his brothers are jealous), because his birthday really doesn’t mean that much to him, with all the years he’s lived

But with you, he looks forward to every year and to being able to celebrate his birthday (and yours) with you

If you make comment about how happy he looks about it, he’ll get all flustered but won’t deny it; but if YOU say you’re happy about being able to share his special day with him, he’ll look at you so softly

Sharing his birthday with you makes him feel a little special-- because this is something that’s truly only between you and him-- and he has some really strong urges to just steal you away on your shared birthdays just so you can spend the entire day together

Mammon

“WHOAAA NO WAY! Are ya for real?!”

Super hyped about it and very smug about it to the point that even if his brothers didn’t care before, they definitely do now

Tells everyone that sharing birthdays is proof of his superiority as your first man (somehow-- it doesn’t really make sense but his brothers bristle at it anyways)

Very, very happy that he gets to share his birthday with you-- like ridiculously happy-- because his birthday was HIS day but now it can be the BOTH of your days and that’s something, isn’t it?

He always loves it when his birthday gets around but it’s even better now that he knows he can revel in that feeling with you

When your birthdays come around, he’s extra excited because he gets to celebrate it with you, and if you’re happy about it, he might be so happy he might cry (a little bit)

Starts thinking about getting gifts for you already since he’s always counting down to his birthday so he’ll never forget about yours (as if he ever would before) because he firmly believes you should get everything you want

Leviathan

“It’s- It’s FATE!”

Truly, the fact that your birthdays fall on the same day-- Levi needs no other sign to tell him that the two of you were basically destined to find each other, because honestly, what are the odds?

It's less than ten percent by the way, he searches up, if he only considers the seven brothers and you-- and he’s somehow the one you matched birth dates with!

He thinks it’s something out of an anime-- Your Name, perhaps?-- and he can’t help but think that maybe you were meant to be his soulmate after all (platonic or romantic)

After the initial excitement, actually gets a little shy about it because he wonders if you’re happy about the fact that the two of you share birthdays

And even if he feels a little unworthy of sharing a day with you, he can’t help but feel quietly pleased

He won’t make a big deal out of it after that initial WHOAAAA but if anyone mentions it or teases him about it, expect his face to go bright red

Feel free to say something about how you’re lucky you’re sharing a birthdate with him or anything along those lines and you’ll get him stammering out shared sentiment

Satan

“Oh, that’s pretty interesting. I wonder what the odds of us sharing a birthday are.”

He seems pretty chill with that fact, maybe wondering the probability and searching it up and telling you when he finds out

Thinks it’s a little funny actually, but then he starts thinking about it more and his romantic book-worm brain takes over

This is the man who, when you said gravity caused you to land on top of him in CH 21, blushed and said, “So are you trying to say we can’t help but be attracted to each other--” or something along those CHEESY lines

Satan’s reading alone after you leave and he thinks aren’t the two of you almost like star-crossed lovers? What are the odds of the two of you meeting and having the same birthdays? Like soulmates who have a red string attached to their pinky or words written on the inside of their wrists

(Satan is like, honestly, one detective anime away from just being a weeb like Levi)

Won’t ever say he’s pleased out loud lest his brothers tease him, but if you ever make a comment like that, you would turn to him and see his books way to close to his face and his neck and ears burning red from embarrassment

Asmodeus

Much like Mammon, he’s HYPED-- do you know what that means, MC? TWO BIRTHDAYS MEAN BIGGER PARTY!

Asmo has always liked being celebrated, and his birthday is perfect for that, but this is the first time that he truly wants to celebrate another person-- you!

What’s better than spoiling himself? If he can spoil himself AND you!!

Wants to be celebrated and wants you to be celebrated, so the only solution is to have the biggest birthday bash Devildom has ever seen the next time your birthdate comes around and he would have nothing less for the two of you

Doesn’t think about the probability or anything like that, but indulges in the excitement that it brings him, being able to plan and prepare for two birthday bashes in one day

Gives him the excuse to go all out because he knows his brothers would have let him indulge himself but now that you’re involved he knows none of them would dare complain about the extravagance of everything and you bet he’s taking advantage of that HAHA

He’s planned everything way before and he always includes you in the planning-- it’s an excuse to spend time with you, but also to get to know you more, knowing how you would like to celebrate-- and him being able to fulfill your wildest dreams for you

Beelzebub

The most mild reaction out of all his brothers

He thinks it’s neat that you share birthdays but it doesn’t necessarily change how he feels about wanting to celebrate you on that day or how he feels about your relationship

If anything, he thinks it’s a little funny because that means you, Belphie, and him are all born on the same day and-- wait, does that mean he gets even MORE food if they’re celebrating more than two birthdays?

Most definitely asks this to Lucifer, who only stares at him from his desk before burying his face into his hands

He may have the mildest reaction, but the things he says about being able to share his birthday with you are very sweet

He’d very inadvertently embarrass you by saying stuff like “Do you think we could have sang happy birthday the same time you were born?” or “Now I’ll never forget your birthday. I’m glad we get to celebrate something nice like that together.”

Beel is a very honest and honest, straightforward person when he speaks, so he’ll be so sweet to you when he talks about being able to celebrate such a happy occasion together-- birthdays made him happy but being able to celebrate the birth of his two favorite people in the world is even better

Belphegor

“Oh, okay. So does that mean we don’t have to buy presents for each other?”

Laughs when you throw a pillow at him in response, but he’s kidding (mostly)

Definitely is the type of person who would joke about you, Beel, and him being triplets now because you’re all born on the same day and that now you have to stay forever because of it (kidding! Sort of)

He teases you if you’re a little happy with this discovery but for the most part Belphie himself, much like Beel, has a very mild reaction; much like his twin as well, he does admit that thinking about being able to celebrate his birthday with his two favorite people make him a little soft

Even he’s prone to some romantic thoughts, fantasizing about being able to spend the entire day together with you-- because honestly, what are the odds that he has another person he shares birthdays with? And it happens to be the other person he happens to really care about

If you address that it makes you happy that you get to celebrate birthdays together, he’ll blush and try to brush it off as not a big deal, but you know he’s happy about it too

#obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #shall we date? obey me!#omswd

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nugnthopkns · 4 years ago

Text

don’t say you miss me

word count: 5.5k

warnings: explicit!fem reader, references to sex but nothing explicit, cursing, recreational drug use (marijuana), alcohol consumption, there is no happy ending

recommended listening: overnight | maggie rogers

series masterpost: here

a/n: second installment of hiiapl! little overnight inspired ditty that i’m actually pretty proud of. i’m having so much fun with this it’s insane

You had never meant to get attached.

It was a lot easier said than done – especially with Kevin. He was loud and obnoxious, sure, but it was part of his charm. When you first met him, outside a club in downtown Winnipeg, you were blown away by his duality. He had been so loud with his group but quietly brought you a bottle of water after you puked on the sidewalk. After insisting you take his number so you could let him know you got home safely, Kevin convinced you to go to dinner with him. One meal turned into several and before you knew it you were engaged in a casual fling with the Winnipeg Jets’ newest centre. It was mostly sex, with the ocasional interaction outside of the bedroom, but something about Kevin made it feel like more than just a hookup. Over the few months you slept together your feelings shifted, and you began to harbour a rather large crush.

Just when you were going to take the leap and talk to Kevin about getting serious fate reared its ugly head. After only being in Winnipeg for six months, electing to not return to Massechusettes right away after the Jets playoff run finished, Kevin was traded out of the city. The news split your heart in two – there was no way the two of you could become a couple. Though long distance could have been an option, you weren’t going to ask him to commit to that. Being a professional athlete is tough as is, and having a girlfriend a six hour flight away was extra stress you refused to put on Kevin.

The last night you spent with Kevin was emotional. Lots of tears were shed, mostly from you. You knew he was compartmentalizing it all and trying to not let you know how much the trade was affecting him. Whenever the two of you had talked about hockey, Kevin was always quick to mention how much he loved Winnipeg and how much he wanted to stay. Neither of you talked much, too focussed on wallowing in sadness and committing each other’s bodies to memory. He left the next morning, and there was a silent agreement that whatever the two of you had was over. It was fun while it lasted but now you both have to be adults and get on with life.

☼☼☼☼

Nearly six months later you consider yourself to be getting on with life just fine. You’ve got a better paying job, a new apartment, and enthusiastically throw yourself into any project that’s presented. To others, however, you’re barely hanging on. Any time you get a text notification, you hold your breath until a name flashes that isn’t Kevin’s. A notification from Instagram saying he viewed your story makes your heart beat three times as fast. You constantly check for updates on how he’s playing, and watch as many Flyers games media blackouts will allow just to catch a glimpse of his face. No matter how hard you try, you just can’t shake Kevin Hayes.

“They’ll be in town this weekend,” your best friend Rachel says. “Are you gonna reach out to him?”

You nearly drop the carton of chinese food you’re eating on the floor. “I didn’t know that,” you stammer, trying to make your surprise believable. Kevin will be back in Winnipeg for the first time since being traded. You knew this already, of course, because you have the Flyers scheduled imprinted in your memory.

She narrows her eyes at you. “Don’t fucking lie to me. You knew they were coming to town. The NHL app stays open on your phone at all times.”

Caught in your lie, you can do nothing but duck your head. You’ve thought a lot about what you’re going to do. Should you send him a text, let him know you’re available after the game? Or should you ignore him completely and make it seem as though you’re doing much better than you are?

“I don’t know Rach. I’ve never had a sort of ex come back to the city he left me in.”

“He didn’t necessarily want to leave you,” Rachel points out. “He got traded. If you want my two cents, I don’t think you should give him a call. You need to move on, not stay stuck in the past.”

Your friend is right, and you know that’s what you should do. Moving on from Kevin would be easier if you didn’t try to contact him. He hasn’t reached out to you so you assume you’re the only one in the relationship still struggling to come to terms with his departure. You struggle with the decision until puck drop, but ultimately decide against texting him. It simply wouldn’t be beneficial for your fragile heart.

A small group of friends has gathered at Rachel’s to watch the game. You’re lucky, or unlucky, to run with a crowd of die-hard Jets fans who get together any time they play, whether it’s at someone’s house or a sports bar around the corner from the arena. Though you tried your best to get out of it tonight, making up any excuse you can think of to stay at home and sob quietly into a pillow, Rachel knows better than to let you be alone and forces you to be in attendance.

It’s a pretty quiet game with the Jets dominating the first two periods. The Flyers are sluggish, not connecting passes and taking far too many penalties. You’re pretty sure Winnipeg has it in the bag when the puck drops for the final twenty minutes of play, so you turn your attention away from the television, picking up a conversation with Christina, the girl your friend Tyler brought along.

Some choice words must have been said to the Flyers in the intermission because they come out swinging. Before you can comprehend what’s happening, they’ve tied the game. The period is full of contact, with multiple players from each team spending time in the penalty box. Your attention is once again returned to the large screen for the final few minutes, and your jaw drops as you watch Kevin dangle through the Jets defence to sink the puck into the back of the net. It turns out to be the game winning goal, and you sit in silence as your friends pay up the money they lost in bets and check their updated fantasy pool standings. Maybe you should text him.

“Don’t fucking do it,” you hear Rachel whisper in your ear. Your other friends know of your past with Kevin, they were around and spent some time with him, but they don’t know how much you were still holding on. Everyone besides Rachel assumes you’re alright – that Kevin is just a blip in your past.

You roll your eyes and sigh, but tuck your phone back into the pocket of your jeans. It stays there – out of sight, out of mind – until it buzzes some time later. Expecting it to be your mother hounding you for not calling in a while, you pull it out. A message from Kevin flashes and you go whiter than a ghost.

Taking the boys out celebrating the big win. You in?

The words, so casual, feel like a punch to the stomach. Why the months of radio silence just to ask to see him like you’re friends? Making sure that no one is paying attention to you, you quickly type out a reply.

That’s not a good idea and you know it Kevin.

You send the message and immediately turn off your phone. This way you won’t have to deal with the aftermath until much later. You allow other things to hold your attention and don’t head home until you’re so tired that it will be impossible for you to think about Kevin’s text.

When you power your phone back up in the morning, you’re shocked to find that Kevin never responded. He obviously didn’t care too much about your absence, and part of you wonders if he was just being polite. It doesn’t make sense, but instead of letting your brain overthink the lack of response you throw yourself headfirst into cleaning your apartment. Hours later it’s spotless, and you slump onto the couch in a pile of exhaustion. You check your social media notifications, a few mentions from your friends about the shenanigans you all got up to the night before and your sister tagging you in a post letting you know she’d like to visit a specific beach the next time she comes to visit. Kevin’s profile photo sits at the top of your instagram feed, and before you can stop yourself you click to view his story.

It’s a snapshot of his teammates with bright smiles on their faces. Each of them is holding a can of beer, and a few look as though they shared a joint before entering the establishment. The photo is captioned ‘glad to be back in winterpeg’ and is accompanied by a couple of snowflake emojis. Your heart clenches inside your chest – it hurts more than you thought it would to see him enjoying himself as though he has no bittersweet feelings about being back. It would be beneficial to unfollow Kevin, but you can’t force yourself to pull the metaphorical trigger and completely cut him from your life.

Kevin leaves the next day for Vancouver. You know this because you watch his story yet again, and curse yourself for grasping at straws. Why must he have such a strong hold on you after so long? A call to Rachel has her driving to your place in minutes, ready to hold you while you cry and distract you from the pain that still lingers from his first departure.

☼☼☼☼

It’s easier to forget Kevin without him being in the city – you do your best, and eventually it sort of sticks.

He no longer crosses your mind every few days. You go weeks, sometimes a month or two, without thinking about him. It’s nice to no longer get sad when you enter a bar you frequented with him or wince when someone mentions how he’s playing. It also helps that he never returns to Winnipeg.

There’s no reason for him to. The Flyers don’t play another away game against the Jets the rest of season, and as far as you know he doesn’t frequently talk to his old teammates. Your life fades into a quiet routine you come to love dearly. The world feels balanced for the first time since Kevin left and you’re nothing but thankful.

Life moves on, and you find yourself succeeding in your career – so much so that you’re quickly offered a promotion. The change increases your workload and doesn’t leave you much of a life outside of work, but it doesn’t matter much to you. It’s a welcome distraction and keeps thoughts of Kevin out of your mind. No one comments on your genuine improvement, but you know they can see it. Rachel is proud, and she’s told you exactly once. It’s all you’ll get out of her so you take it and roll with it. The rest of the regular season passes without you so much as knowing, or caring, and before you know it there’s a notification for an article saying the Flyers were eliminated in the second round. For the first time you find it really hard to care.

☼☼☼☼

Summers in Winnipeg are your favourite. The city is warm for the first time all year and the flowers look beautiful in full bloom. With the promotion you’re afforded more vacation time, which you plan to take full advantage. There’s nothing you love more than hanging with friends in the sun, soaking up the rays, and casually drinking.

The days bleed into one another in the way that all good summers should, and before you realize it it’s your last day at work for a week. It will be nice to be free from workplace constraints for a while, and your friends have the time off as well. The group of you are heading to a cabin on Falcon Lake where you’re sure lots of partying will take place. You suggested getting farther away, but settled on the area in case Tyler’s sister goes into labour. He’s a very family oriented person and offered to watch his nephew when the time comes.

Four o’clock comes faster than you ever could have imagined, and you cheerfully wave goodbye to your co-workers. Some complain of your ability to leave during the busiest season of the year, but most of them wish you well. You put an immense amount of work into your job regardless of the quarter and know you deserve the break. If you don’t stop at the grocery store on your way you’ll be in trouble since you’re in charge of all the breakfasts and you currently only have a half-eaten loaf of bread that could go stale any day.

You’re in the cereal aisle, deciding whether or not you really need Honey Nut Cheerios for the trip, when you hear his unforgettable voice. It’s loud and booming and brings back so many feelings that you’ve learned to repress that you turn on your heel and head to the nearest self checkout despite only gathering half the items on your list.

Back in your car, you dial Rachel’s number and try to regulate your breathing.

“Hello?”

You don’t bother with any formalities. “Kevin is here.”

“In Winnipeg?” she asks, more than a tad confused. “Why would he be in Winnipeg?”

The interior of the Ford Escape you drive feels too small, so you crack a window and peel out of the parking space. Rachel’s voice reverberates throughout the car thanks to the bluetooth system. “I don’t fucking know, but he’s here.”

“I don’t think that’s possible Y/N,” Rachel says, always the realist. “He lives in Boston. What would he be doing in Winnipeg in the middle of July?”

You aren’t sure, and make sure to tell her so. “But it was him,” you swear. “He was in the grocery store.” You stop at a red light, placing your blinker on and checking both ways before turning right. A few more minutes and you’d be safely tucked away in your apartment, away from the world and the possibility of running into Kevin.

“There’s like a hundred tall gingers in the city babe, you didn’t see him.”

“You’re right, I didn’t see him,” you agree. “I heard him. How many tall gingers are there in Winnipeg with Boston accents?”

“Oh fuck. I’m coming over.” With that, Rachel hangs up, and you pull into the parking garage. You sit in silence for a minute or two before deciding your shaking legs can hold you upright. Perhaps you weren’t as over Kevin as you thought.

Rachel spends the rest of the afternoon and evening with you, ensuring you don’t do anything stupid and letting you spew all your feelings, both good and bad. More than one bottle of wine is consumed, but you have more than enough time to nurse a hangover. If you play your cards right through the week this won’t be the only time you do it either.

You wake up on top of your pristine sheets, Rachel grumbling beside you – she’s never been as good at holding her alcohol.

“What time is it?”

The alarm clock on your bedside table flashes a few numbers and you have to stare at them for a minute before you comprehend them. “Just after eight,” you say, sitting up. Surprisingly, you feel fine. Maybe the crippling weight of your feelings for Kevin cancels out the hangover you most definitely should be feeling.

“We need to get going. Gotta pack the car and hit the road. I’m the one who needs to get the keys so we have to be there before everyone else,” she sighs, grumbling something else under her breath as her feet hit the floor.

You just laugh at her and head into the kitchen. While Rachel showers you make coffee and pack the food into the ancient cooler your father gave you when you moved out many moons ago. It has served its purpose on several trips like this – you’ll be sad to see it go eventually. You switch places with Rachel, and once you’re feeling refreshed the two of you stuff your trunk and hit the road.

The drive is rather uneventful, with the both of you sitting in silence, and it doesn’t take you long to approach your destination. Rachel is a poor navigator so you’re tasked with figuring out where you’re going and making sure you get there, but it could be worse. You have a general sense of where you’re going. Getting the keys is painless and you get to work unpacking your overloaded SUV.

“Do you think there will be other people around we can party with?” Rachel asks as you close the trunk for the last time.

You shrug. “Don’t know Rach. It doesn’t look like it.”

She drops it, agreeing with you, and you separate to unpack your personal belongings. The cabin is large enough that no one has to share a room, which you’re grateful for. Though you love your friends dearly, they don’t always know what personal space is. At some point in the afternoon the rest of the group trickles in, and by dinner you’ve all settled and are ready to party.

Tyler figures out how to use the ancient barbeque and sets to work cooking the burgers. Everyone else gets side dishes ready or sets the table, with Christine starting a bonfire. You don’t know her well, only having met her a few times, but your friend seems to be infatuated with her. She fits in great with the group so you aren’t worried about any awkward tension. Dinner passes in a fit of giggles and shouts, and once the dishes are done you can relax fully.

The beer you grab from the fridge on your way out the door makes your insides fuzzy in the best way possible. By the fire, surrounded by those who care about you the most, you feel at peace. You’re yet to think about the sudden reappearance of Kevin in Winnipeg, and you’d like to keep it that way. Someone grabs the beat up acoustic guitar you found in the living room and thrusts it in your direction. You’d taught yourself to play in college, and it comes in handy for times like this.

“I refuse to play Wonderwall,” you laugh, shooting pointed looks at each and every person sitting around you.

“Come on Y/N,” Rachel groans. “Just once?”

“Fuck off.”

You don’t mean it, of course, and strum the opening chords with a grimace on your face. Tyler counts everyone in and they sing for you, which is appreciated. You might be decent at playing, but your singing voice is one that shouldn’t see the light of day if it can be helped. It’s more fun than you imagined it could be so one song turns into three, and before you know it your makeshift jamboree attracts the attention of the neighbours you didn’t know existed.

Applause erupts from behind you, and you flush enough that your cheeks warm significantly. “You guys are so good I hate to disrupt the rhythm,” a deep voice says, “But do you mind if a buddy and I join you? We’re a little lonely by ourselves next door.”

Tyler’s out of his seat in a heartbeat, jumping up to pat the man on the back. “Of course man, come on over! I’m Tyler, and that’s Rachel, Christine, Marshall, and Y/N.”

You all wave politely, and the mystery guest introduces himself. “Nice you meet you guys. I’m Nolan.”

It’s then you get a good look at who you’re speaking to. He seems to be a few years younger than you, maybe early twenties, and he has a face you just can’t place. Maybe you’ve seen him around Winnipeg – the city is small enough that you can often spot the same faces in a crowd. “I’ll just yell at him to come over and we can get the party started,” Nolan explains, “Kev, bud, come on over! And bring a couple beers.”

All the blood rushes from your fingers at the name. You shake them intensely, willing your circulatory system to function properly again. If you had to hazard a guess there’s probably a million people in Manitoba named Kevin. There’s no reason for it to be Kevin Hayes. You’re most certainly still spooked from your near encounter with him yesterday.

“Fuck Patty, you couldn’t come back and grab your own?” the emerging figure grumbles in the vocal stylings you’ll have imprinted on your heart until your dying day. Kevin is here, and if you don’t leave in the next few seconds you’ll be face to face with him for the first time in over a year.

You stand abruptly, not stopping to explain your hasty exit to anyone, and practically run into the house. The door slams behind you and you do your best to make your heart rate return to normal. Tyler shouts something you can’t quite comprehend, but you know it’s probably some sort of reconnection greeting. He’d met Kevin a couple of times while the two of you were together and had gotten along with him well.

“Hey,” Rachel whispers, “You good?”

You hadn’t heard her come in. “Not really,” you admit. “I mean like I knew he was in town but never in a million years did I think he’d crash my fucking vacation.”

She nods in agreement. “What do you want to do?”

“Stay in here forever?” An eye roll is sent your way but you choose to ignore it. “I’m serious Rach, I can’t go back out there, at least not tonight. Every time I think I’m over him he finds a way to make me realize I’m just faking.”

“I know,” Rachel says simply. She really does – as your best friend she’s privy to your every thought on the matter. After making sure that you'll be okay she heads back outside, armed with an excuse for your early departure.

You spend the rest of the night tucked under the covers, listening to the laughter of your friends outside, no doubt in your mind that Kevin is the source for most of it. He’s always been good at commanding an audience. Thoughts swim freely in your brain, most of them occupied by Kevin in some capacity. Was tonight just a one off? Will you have to eventually face him? What will you say? Eventually sleep comes, though it’s fitful and fleeting.

☼☼☼☼

You do your best to avoid Kevin, and it works for a day or two. Tyler has stricken up a friendship with the athlete, and spends more time with him and Nolan than your group. You don’t mind all that much because they typically are out on Nolan’s boat or lounging in their cabin, but every night the group reconvenes at your firepit. The excuses are starting to run out – there’s only so many times you can say you have heat exhaustion before someone stops believing you.

“Y/N, Kevin hasn’t even mentioned you,” Tyler whines one night after dinner. “It won’t be awkward. We only have a few days left, please spend time with us?”

“I’m spending plenty of time with you,” you grumble. “You promise he won’t say anything?”

Tyler shoots you a smile that lets you know he knows that he’s broken down your resolve. “Why would he? If he was going to do it he would have already.”

You aren’t sure if that makes you feel better or worse. You’re glad he’s faring better than you, but on the other hand you wish he’d at least make an effort to inquire into your well-being. Maybe it was simply proof that you were still holding onto something that didn’t mean much of anything. Eventually you’d have to face the music, whether it be with Kevin or someone in the future, so you make the decision to try and at least get used to seeing former flames in social settings.

“You’re rolling my joints tonight asshole,” you grumble, shoving your sock clad feet into a pair of worn out sandals.

There’s a small commotion, mostly in excitement at your begrudging agreement, and you roll your eyes as you grab what is destined to be your first of many beers from the fridge. Rachel slides up beside you on the way out the door and squeezes your hand, letting you know she’s ready to support you no matter what happens. It’s comforting, and the nerves in your stomach settle a small amount.

Marshall is already outside, helping Nolan start the fire. They seem to be extremely similar and you’re glad they can seek each other out when the rest of the group gets too rambunctious. The rest of your party filters out of the house and takes up residence in the adirondack chairs. Kevin doesn’t appear to be around, so you allow yourself to speak freely, loud and unabashed.

“No I’m telling you,” you insist, trying to convince Nolan your stance on Jack Antonoff is correct. “Jack is literally responsible for reinventing pop production.”

He laughs at how into the conversation you are. “Why the fuck should I care?”

“Because you fucking listen to Lorde!”

Someone else is laughing along with you and it nearly stops you in your tracks. At some point Kevin had joined the party, but you hadn’t noticed. Knowing that he was listening makes you suddenly self conscious, and you wrap your sweater tighter around your shoulders. Nolan can tell you’re uncomfortable and does his best to relieve the tension.

“Kev, do you wanna run back and grab the weed?” he asks.

The auburn haired man pulls a baggie out of his hoodie pocket. “Got it right here baby cat,” he grins. “And it’s ready to go. You got a light?”

Nolan tosses him the lighter and Kevin expertly puts the joint between his parted lips. He lets the smoke fill his lungs before exhaling, and you watch him more intently than you should. You’re thrown back to the memories of Kevin’s apartment downtown, where you’d smoke in content silence after a night of passionate sex. The scenes flash in your mind and you’re overcome with melancholia. You had been so happy in the moment, and now you’re in a similar situation but feel nothing. Other than sharing in your laughter, Kevin is yet to say anything to you.

You must have been lost in your thoughts, because Kevin is staring at you with a quizzical expression. “Y/N? Do you want a hit?”

It takes you a second to snap out of your daze, but to cautiously take the lit joint from his hand. “Thank you Kevin,” you say, voice timid. It’s the first time you’ve spoken to him since he left Winnipeg for the first time.

He shoots you a dazzling smile and your insides threaten to turn to mush. No matter how hard you’ve tried to convince yourself you over him, that you’ve moved on from Kevin, you know you’re wrong. Kevin Hayes will have some sort of hold on you until you die. To distract yourself from the overwhelming amount of emotion you inhale deeply, hoping that the buzz smoking will bring can clear your mind. You really don’t want to think about what you lost when he’s right in front of you.

The three of you sit in silence, passing the joint in a circle, and listen to the conversation your friends are engaged in. Marshall ropes Nolan into a game of cornhole and he goes begrudgingly. As he stands he sends you a sympathetic look, and you know that he’s familiar with your history with Kevin. It doesn’t surprise you – Kevin isn’t exactly one to keep secrets.

“So,” Kevin says once it’s just the two of you, “How have you been?”

You do your best to swallow the lump in your throat. “I’ve been good. Work has been crazy lately, so this break has been really nice.”

He presses, and you indulge him in a conversation about your new job, though it can barely be considered that now. Everything is surface level – you’re afraid of letting Kevin in too much. Though your fling may have been brief, it didn’t make his departure or the lack of contact any easier. He tells you about his life in Philadelphia and how much he loves it there. Before you can stop yourself, you ask him a loaded question.

“Do you like it more than Winnipeg?”

Kevin falters. It takes both of you a moment to process what you said. Not one to lie, he answers truthfully. “Yeah.” It comes out in a sort of deflated sigh. “But I miss –”

“Don’t say it,” you rush, trying hard to keep your voice down. “You don’t mean it.”

An embittered huff comes from him, and you watch carefully as he peels the worn ball cap off his head and tugs on his curls. “I do,” he insists. “I absolutely miss you.”

You no longer care who can hear you. “If you missed me, you would have texted. Called. Anything,” you say cooly. Everyone else has clued in to the fact that something is going on between you and Kevin, and have migrated inside in an attempt to give you privacy.

“I did. You’re the one who said it wasn’t a good idea to see each other again.”

“Because it had been over half a year!” you shriek. “And it had been radio silence before then. You left Kevin, and I’m not blaming you. I know it’s your job. But you left and it was so fucking hard, and it stung because you didn’t even try. So when you hit me up after that game I knew I had to say no. Because no matter how much I try to convince myself otherwise, I’m still so in love with you that if you asked I’d uproot my life and follow you to Philly. I don’t want to be that girl.”

The outburst leaves you gasping for breath. Never before had you spilled heartache so fast – with a sort of reckless abandon. Anytime you’ve had these types of conversations you’ve been calm and collected. You’re currently the farthest thing from it.

Kevin’s expression softens, and a sadness fills his eyes. “I was scared,” he begins, “Because for the first time in my life I was with someone I could see spending the rest of my life with. Sure, we weren’t serious, but I was going to take it there. Then I got traded and the plans I had went to shit and I was too scared to do anything about it. So I let you slip away.”

Silence fills the space between you. You don’t know what to say, so you focus on unraveling the loose thread from the hem of your cardigan. Kevin shuffles in his seat awkwardly. “Where do we, uh, go from here?”

The question shocks you. To the best of your understanding, you had made it perfectly clear where your relationship was headed. “Nowhere,” you breathe. “You head back to Philly, meet another girl, and fall in love. I stay here, do my job, and learn to be content with myself.”

“There’s no room for us in your little plan?”

“We’ve run our course Kev. As much as I still love you, will always love you, we’re too fundamentally different for us both to really be happy in a relationship. You have to know that.”

He nods. “I do.” With that, Kevin rises from the chair, gives you a sad smile, and leaves. You assume he’s calling it a night, and you wish to do the same. Finally having that conversation was exhausting and all you want to do is sleep for the next twelve hours.

☼☼☼☼

The rest of the trip passes without you seeing Kevin again. He and Nolan left early the morning after your conversation, and you do your best to enjoy yourself. Part of your brain makes you believe you’re the reason they left, though Tyler tells you otherwise. No one asks about what happened between you two, not even Rachel, and you return to the city determined to start anew. Eventually you break the cycle of obsessing over Kevin’s stats, and take it upon yourself to unfollow him on social media. Life goes on.

Things never really get easier. You still find yourself grieving the loss of Kevin, late at night when you can’t sleep, but are confident in your decision to say goodbye for good. Time heals everything, and eventually you’ll be okay.

☼☼☼☼

taglist: @jamiedrysdales @kiedhara @tortito @boqvistsbabe @iwantahockeyhimbo if you want to be added just shoot me an ask :)

#kevin hayes imagine #kevin hayes x reader #kevin hayes fic #philadelphia flyers imagine #hockey imagine #hockey fic #nhl imagine #nhl fic #cwrites #hiiapl

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v3nusaphr0d1t3 · 4 years ago

Text

i’m in love with a stripper

crossposted on ao3: <3 rating: mature warnings: strip club environment, suggestive themes (no actual smut tho) gender neutral stripper!reader x hawks. afab implied but can be read either way.

your job was to look good, feel bad, and entertain. in the most literal sense.

life as an ‘exotic dancer’ wasn’t nearly as glamorous as movies and shit made it out to be. your body ached constantly, you had nearly fought about 4 people in the past two weeks, and you came home in the morning smelling like alcohol and sweat and some random cologne. the pay wasn’t amazing on its own, so you had to rut yourself against old men to pay your rent.

and yet, it was addicting in a way you couldn’t exactly explain. you had wanted to work in the entertainment industry since you were little, a star up on the big screen. this was sort-of similar. you had eyes on you at all times, and it was your job to put on a great show. but instead of red-carpets it was party favors and gross back-room carpeting.

it was good workout, and you knew you looked good enough to taste, so that was always a plus. tonight, you were all dolled up, one of your more femme looks. your shorts were riding low on your hips, yet still stopped so high on your legs that it could be considered more of a belt than a pair of shorts. your thong straps framed your hips, bright red in comparison to the blue jean shorts. you had a red bikini top on, and a crop top that was yet again just another shred of fabric framing it. your shoes were red and tall enough to make you feel like you were on top of the world.

you had gotten used to the sashay and drama of all the bullshit presentation, perfected your sultry stare, and polished your pole skills. yes, you could use work. but so could everyone, it was an art that you were still constantly trying to learn more about.

so as you walked your way out on stage on a busy friday night, you could tell that tonight would be a good tip night. first off, there was MUCH more security than normal, which meant that someone important was probably in attendance for some kind of ‘special night’. they got bachelor parties and birthday parties all the time, but usually they weren’t this… guarded?

it was strange, but you instead focused on feelings the rhythm in your bones as you strutted your way up to the pole, starting to go into one of your choreographed routines that you knew like the back of your hand. though you supposed you could throw in some more risky moves, for whoever was currently paying for your console gaming subscription. being in the air was always exhilarating, but you were always worried about flashing too much. you knew that it would happen eventually, but you would still prefer for it not to.

you spun too fast on your way down and got that wobbling feeling in your stomach as your heels hit the stage a bit too hard to be ‘graceful’. oh well, you thought as you moved to the more floor-based part of your routine. you brought your hands up, running them over your body and pulling at your crop top, pulling it off and throwing it further back on the stage to be retrieved when you were done with your set.

you made it slow, teasing, swaying your hips to the beat of the song and running your hands back down, under the strings of your thong to snap them against your hips. it was effective, but it was hard not to wince in annoyance. you were too salty to do this shit. it was a lucky thing that you were so good at acting. you slid further onto your knees, back arched as you looked some random guy that was halfway decent and crawled forward. that was something that always racked in tips. it made folks feel engaged with the whole experience. the guy held up a 20 and you stuck it under your thong strap, moving to collect more of the money that had been thrown at you.

you were honest with yourself when you said you loved the attention that this job brought. there were many people out in the crowd that wanted you, that sat in their chair or stood amongst the sweaty crowd with a white-knucked grip and lust in their eyes, and you ate it up. you loved being wanted, it was one of the worlds wonders.

eventually, you finished your set, hair tousled from flipping it, back of your knees and your hands sore from gripping the pole, but ultimately you felt invigorated. energized. like someone had wound you up like a toy. and now you had to pounce on someone in hopes of attention and the money you needed to buy that new game you had been saving up for. comical.

you could tell a bunch of the dancers were anticipating the party that was in tonight. it was obvious they were important, and important people had money. so the dancers that weren’t on the stage currently were prowling around the VIP area, looking to advertise themselves.

you decided to do the charity work and tend to the rest of the forgotten crowd. you knew from experience that eventually the richer guests would get tired of giving their money away and eventually leave. and the rest of the crowd was just sitting there, so you slipped your way in to the seats that were closer to the stage (shitty stripper etiquette, but some of thesen dancers were fuckin’ shady sometimes) and found some dude who looked wimpy enough to play the whole deity act with.

you walked your way around the chair, placing your hands on his shoulders and beginning to rub them, your hand making it’s way down his chest as you whispered a greeting in his ear. you used your other hand to run through his hair, plucking the bill in his hand out of his hand and into your g string on your hip with the rest of them. you moved back around the chair and plopped down on his lap, feigning interest and asking him about his day, making him feel special with the whole shebang. you eventually were able to make quiet some money from that guy, surprisingly. and you left him alone and unsatisfied when the lights dimmed between sets.

now, to find someone else out of sight of the first guy. you were on your way to do that when something caught your eye. a glimmer of gold, no- not metal, someones eyes. you were momentarily mesmerized before you realized that the person attached to those honey irises was staring at you. at you. from the VIP booth. while you were in the middle of the crowd. you were never flustered, so it was new when you felt a heat in your cheeks.

you quickly put your act back on, throwing him a wink. he made a ‘come here’ motion with his finger, but you gave him a playful grin and a little teasing wave of dismissal. you had no idea what came over you to do that, but you decided to stick with this little ‘hard-to-get’ persona, and you disappeared into the crowd.

not 10 minutes later you were grinding on some guy through your shorts, just to work that 50 out of his hand. he was one of the assholes that would promise and never give. it was hypocritical for you to think that way, you supposed, but it was your job. either way, you got it from him by nosing up his neck (too much cologne) and giggling in his ear. and he put the bill in your g-string himself. gross.

you slid away from him between sets like you always did, and once again felt the heat of eyes on you. this was different, however. it wasn’t like the usual eyes on you, the gazes you had grown to crave and expect. this was predatory. you were being watched like a hawk. you spun around to find him staring at you again, this time split off from his little friends and instead sitting in a chair further back from the stage. he gave you a certain look and raised his hand, waving a bill in his hand. like bait! that was hotter than it should have been.

still, decided to make your way over to him, stopping in front of his chair, towering over him in your platform heels as he sat in the chair. he didn’t seem too physically imposing, but his energy was cockier than shit and you could tell he was bulked up. you usually didn’t fuck with these types, but something about him was just magnetic. it was insane. he leaned back in his chair, obviously insinuating that he wanted the same treatment as the others. you instead took a singular finger and raised his chin up to meet his eyes as they ran you up and down.

and that was when you realized, under the dim lights, that you were a complete and total idiot. you hadn’t even realize that the man in front of you was hawks, number two pro hero and the man too fast for his own good. you tried not to make a face, but you knew he could most definitely see in your eyes the minute you put the puzzle pieces together. what the fuck was he doing in a place like this?

“what the fuck is someone like you doing in a place like this?” you asked, coming out of your mouth before you could really stop yourself. he only chuckled, grinning as you felt his jaw tense against your finger. the main reason you didn’t recognize him is because there was a lack of giant red wings.

“what anyone else is tryin’ to do. have a good time! it’s my friends birthday, i have a life outside work, you know?” his voice was barely heard over the pounding of the music and the bass rattling under your feet.

“what about your reputation? i’m surprised there isn’t a line to gag on your dick at this point,” you held no filter in speaking to him. you never had it with anyone else, really, and what was so special about him? he was just another dude in the club, so you did what you always did and slid into his lap, pressing your bodies together in all the ways you knew did the best. you watched something flash in his eyes as he bit his lip for a moment. he looked back up to meet your eyes again.

“well, how long did it take you to recognize me? and you’re sober, aren’t you?” hawks brought a sculpted arm up to wrap around your waist, and you slapped it away as you worked your hips against his to the beat.

“no comment. and no touching, unless you want to pay for that too.”

“i might just have to. what’s your name, gorgeous?” his face was too smug for a man who could buy the building, yet completely in the the eye of the public had a semi hard-on for a stranger in some daisy dukes.

“i don’t know, what’s yours?” you asked, raising your eyebrow. you didn’t know his real name, no one did. it was a mystery highly speculated about online, not that you checked or anything.

“fair enough, fair enough. pick one before i blow a couple hundred on getting free roam to touch you.” he said, rolling his hips up to meet yours. this shocked you, catching your breath, and you knew he had noticed by the shit-eating grin he wore.

you gave him your stripper name. it was sufficient enough to add another layer of mystery, because even though you were in his lap, you wanted to keep up this game of cat and mouse. predator and prey.

the thought of that made you tingle. you told him your rates, and he forked it over quite a fuckin’ bit. you stood up from where you were sat in his lap (thought the loss was more upsetting than you would care to admit). you took his wrist (his hand was big) and started to drag him back to one of the more secluded areas.

you had to pass the VIP area to do that, and when you did, you heard a shout. it scared the shit out of you for starters, but hawks seemed to recognize the voice. it was coming from a woman with white hair and rabbit ears, currently cheering hawks on.

“fuckin’ get some, dude!” she said, and her voice was strangely familiar as hawks flashed an award-winning grin and a thumbs up. you winked at her and pulled hawks on with you.

you pulled him into a pseudo-room in the back. not cut off by doors, but isolated and split off by room dividers. you pushed him back onto one of the booth-like seats lining the wall.

the music was quieter back here, and it was easier to hear yourself think. the lights were dim and the bass was still thumping through the floor. there was no one back here, just you and him.

“ ‘kay, so i’m technically not supposed to let you touch me, but you just paid for my groceries and they don’t really check the cameras here. also, you’re cute.” you rambled off, more genuine and clearer now that the music wasn’t so intense in the middle of the madness. and then, catching the beat, you started your ministrations, rolling your hips against his and hearing his breath catch as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders.

“so i’ve been told,” he says with a shit-eating grin.

“don’t let it go to your head, princess.” you said, and he didn’t reply, too focused on oogling you.

his hands came up to hold your waist, and he put his effort into moving along with you, and his grinding did not go unnoticed. or unappreciated, for that matter. with his hips at your waist, he raked his thumbs under your thong straps and snaps them against your hips like you had earlier. it earns a breathy chuckle from you as you watched his pupils pin. you pulled back, standing and watching his face sour as his hands were pulled from your waist. but you decided to give him a little show, just ‘cuz you had a case of the hots for him and the way he was looking at you was much appreciated.

you now stood in front of him, towering above him as you toyed with the waistband of your daisy dukes. he simply bit his lip, practically eye-fucking you. it was exhilarating. you enjoyed the lustful gazes from customers, but this was on a different level. you felt truly alive, and yet like you were melting all the same. your insides felt gooey but you kept your perfected expression hard, movements practiced, sex appeal seasoned to flawlessness. and now you unbuttoned your shorts, pulling them down to reveal your bright red thong, hips, legs and torso all one long line. he looked at you like dinner and you were fucking living for it.

you kneeled inbetween his legs, laying your head on one of his thighs in the way you knew drove people crazy.

you heard a small “god damn,” exit his mouth as he looked at you, entranced as you caught his t-shirt on your way up his body with your teeth, pulling it up and dropping it back down, promptly standing up to slide backwards into his lap. you roll your ass where you know it’s appreciated and hear his breathing speed up behind you. you can practically hear his heart pounding to match your own, like a drum to the beat. your body laid down the bass, your eyes were the melody and he was drowning.

and when it was all over, poor guy walked out of the club with his fellow semi-disguised pro-heros with a raging hard on.

and later on, when you were pulling all your money out to count it, you caught a piece of paper rolled up along a $100 bill. it was his number. a pro-hero gave you his number. that was risky, especially in the type of place they were in.

you liked the risk he took. you put his number in your phone.

#hawks #bnha hawks #bnha x reader #bnha x gn reader #hawks x reader #hawks x gn reader #takami keigo #keigo x reader #keigo x gn reader

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half-bakedboy · 4 years ago

Text

when you’re not listening (read on ao3)

Pairing: Evan “Buck” Buckley/Eddie Diaz Rated: General Summary: “You don’t want to kiss me, Buck.”

“How do you know that?” Buck shot back. He would realize later that he never denied her accusation. He stared her down almost desperately and saw more sympathy in her eyes than he liked. It made him feel vulnerable and he hated wearing his heart on his sleeve with anyone, especially Taylor.

“Because you’re just going to wish it was him and neither of us deserves that."

A Season 4 Episode 12: Treasure Hunt Fix It (contains spoilers for the ep)

There was no doubt in Buck’s mind that Taylor Kelly was one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen in his life. She had those big blue eyes that Buck could compare to skies and oceans with the little specks of green that were scattered through them, and her hair was brighter than most of the fires Buck had put out in his line of work. She was smart, cunning, and witty and she could put Buck in his place with a raise of her eyebrow or a single well-formed word on her perfectly lined lips.

Buck was leaning in before he could think about what he was doing, the double shots of tequila already thrumming through his veins and dizzying his head just enough for all coherent thought to disappear. She was complaining about something — someone — that was related to the treasure hunt they had teamed up to try and figure out for the last few days and was seemingly not paying attention to the way Buck moved closer to her.

She never paid attention to him the way he did her. He wondered if she thought he was pretty; if she ever compared his hair to a sandy beach that led to the ocean that was his eyes. He wondered if she ever took a second to think about what adjectives she would use to describe Buck. Would she call him intelligent? Lovable? Stupid? Sarcastic? Annoying? Exhausting?

He shook his head to focus his mind and eyes back on Taylor who was scanning the map in front of her like it held all the answers. Buck knew it didn’t have any for him. It was just another way for him to keep his life exciting and hold those around him even closer. He got to spend the last few days with his best friends and he wondered if they cared as much as he did. He figured Eddie did and that thought alone had a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“What does Eddie do?” Taylor asked, breaking him out of his haze.

“He’s a firefighter…” Buck explained slowly because Taylor must have hurt herself looking for all the clues or something. She smacked him on the arm.

“You were rambling - which we will talk about more in a second - but then you stopped, got this goofy smile on your face, and said, ‘Eddie does.’” Buck blushed. He could blame it on the alcohol, but they both knew that wasn’t it.

“How much of my internal monologue did you hear?” He asked instead, resting both hands on the table as far apart as they could go so he had a little space between him and Taylor.

“Well, I heard you think about trying to kiss me which you quickly convinced yourself off of. Thank god, too, cause I didn’t wanna have to deny you again.” Before Buck could argue, she gave him a look that shut him up almost as quickly as Athena’s did. “Then I think you were scrolling through a thesaurus in your head? Then you talked about the treasure hunt and then, as usual, you stopped thinking at all because of Eddie.”

“What do you mean as usual?” Buck asked. He probably should’ve been embarrassed that she had knocked him down so many pegs with just a few sentences, but he was more interested in why she was looking at him like he was an idiot.

“We’ll get to that,” Taylor said, waving her hand in dismissal.

“This isn’t the news, Taylor, you can just tell me what’s going on instead of teasing it for the ten o’clock story,” Buck complained, sliding his hands across the table until a pin pricked his skin sharply.

“We’ve known each other for a little bit of time now, yeah?” Taylor asked, resting a hand on Buck’s shoulder and squeezing. He glanced up at her and nodded. “So you could say that I know you pretty well considering?”

Buck nodded again and agreed, “Considering I can count the number of people that do on one hand, yeah.”

“So will you trust me when I say what I have to say?” Who was Buck to argue with her when she stared at him with too much sympathy in her eyes. She rested a hand on Buck’s cheek and began, “You are inquisitive and always searching out new information even if it’s unimportant. You’re impassioned about everything you do in life. You’re absolutely ridiculous in every sense of the word. You’re sensitive and captivating and endearing and reliable and trustworthy and thoughtful, and—”

Buck leaned in to kiss her. He didn’t have to think about it because, after everything she had said, he knew she must feel the same as he had the last few days. But then his lips met her cheek and her hand smacked over the small bubble of laughter that escaped her mouth.

“I was going to say impulsive next,” Taylor noted as she glanced up at Buck again, leaning back as if she was scared he would try to make another move.

“God, I’m so sorry, I’m— You just said all of those things, and I just got carried away and—”

“Who said those were my words?” Taylor noted easily, maintaining eye contact even as Buck furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

“I am way too buzzed to play this game right now, Taylor,” Buck said, pulling his hands away from Taylor’s waist and backing away.

“Have you ever heard the way Eddie speaks about you?” Taylor asked before he could get too far away.

“I don’t know how to answer that,” Buck said honestly. Sure, he knew they were best friends and he knew how he spoke of Eddie, but he had always assumed that Eddie never talked about him. He was a man of few words and Buck wasn’t sure why any of them would be wasted on him.

“I’ve spent all of twenty-four hours being the third wheel attached to the fine-tuned engine that is Buck and Eddie. While you were off finding more clues and gathering information, Eddie was telling me all about how lucky I was to have someone as impassioned and sensitive and reliable and thoughtful and selfless and—”

“Yeah, I heard you the first time,” Buck said, blushing deeper when he thought of Eddie saying those things about him. He wasn’t sure why his stomach chose to flutter in excitement or why his heart sped up just a little quicker than necessary.

“He never mentioned that you were oblivious, though, but I’m assuming that’s because he’s just as bad,” Taylor noted, staring Buck down like he was a news story she couldn’t wait to crack. Buck said nothing and avoided her eyes at all costs, staring down at the hole in his sweater and wishing he could disappear into it.

“I don’t understand what any of this has to do with us,” Buck relented, turning back toward Taylor and crossing his arms over his chest. “We make a great team and we could be even better if we just—” He stalked forward again, sighing when Taylor’s hands rested on his chest and patted gently.

“You don’t want to kiss me, Buck.”

“Because you’re just going to wish it was him and neither of us deserves that,” Taylor said softly, trailing a hand to cup Buck’s cheek, sliding her thumb comfortingly across his cheekbone. Buck leaned into it, relenting to the softness and allowing himself for one moment to be happy that he had a friend like Taylor.

“There’s a really narrow line between friends and… more,” Buck stated with a defeated huff of laughter. Taylor froze and glanced down at the map before smirking up at Buck.

“I know where the treasure is.”

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

Eddie could be described as many things, but currently, the only word he could think of was jealous. His skin was still crawling from witnessing the easy way Buck and Taylor interacted, reading each other’s minds like they were the same damn person and smiling at each other like they had cracked a secret code while Eddie tagged along. He was still a little pissed that Buck had decided to go to Taylor first - over Eddie - to search for the stupid treasure in the first place.

He wasn’t even interested in finding the five million dollars. Although it would be nice to provide some wiggle room for whatever Christopher wanted to do in the future, he didn’t need it. What he had wanted was to spend some time with Buck and really figure out the feelings that were suddenly clouding his mind whenever he so much as looked at his best friend. Spending a few days doing a ridiculous task with Buck seemed like the perfect excuse to try to figure out where the sudden urge to break up with his girlfriend in favor of pursuing a relationship with his best friend came from.

Then Taylor Kelly happened. He was sure everyone in the firehouse was increasingly aware of the way his lips turned down and his eyebrows furrowed in annoyance at the mere mention of her name or how seeing her ridiculous(ly beautiful) face on the television made him want to ban Buck from using electronics again. He didn’t think it would slide, though, because for some reason, Buck liked her and that was enough of a punch to the gut to have Eddie scrubbing down his dinner dishes furiously in the sink.

When the knock at his door sounded, he slammed the plate he had been over cleaning into the sink, taking a deep breath before turning toward the door. That last person he expected to see was Buck leaning against the doorframe with an almost concerned smirk on his face.

“What did your dishware ever do to you?” He asked, swinging his keys around his finger. Eddie saw the bright red cap on the key that belonged to his home and regretted giving it to Buck for just a moment. He would have given anything to be able to prepare himself for Buck to be in front of him considering, well, everything.

“He had it coming. I can’t prove it, but I think he was conspiring with the forks,” Eddie responded, shrugging his shoulders. Buck laughed and all of the pent-up anxiety drained from Eddie’s body.

“I’m sure you’ll get a confession out of him sooner or later,” Buck said, resting his head against the frame and licking his lips. If Eddie didn’t know any better, he would think that Buck looked a little sad or even… nervous.

“I thought you were getting together with Taylor tonight to drown your sorrows?” Eddie asked. He couldn’t help himself. The entire reason he’d been angry all night in the first place was because he knew Buck was hanging out with her. Eddie glanced at the clock and saw it was almost midnight. It didn’t make sense that Buck had shown up at all, especially with how late it was.

“We did a little drowning. Turns out I’m more of a lightweight on tequila than I thought.” Eddie narrowed his eyes and Buck clearly knew why he was suddenly angry. “Taylor got me an uber. I didn’t drive here,” Buck defended, holding up his hands in surrender.

“And why are you here? Not that you’re not welcome, I just figured you’d be spending the night with your—”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Buck interrupted, clearly exasperated at the accusation. Eddie wasn’t sure whether to let the smile that tugged at the corner of his lips grow and risk his obvious pleasure at the secondary confirmation. “She figured out where the treasure is.”

Eddie’s eyes went wide. “She found it and you’re here? Buck, why aren’t you with her to get it?” Eddie asked, stalking toward the door to slip on his shoes and grab his keys. Buck’s hand on his arm slowed him down and when he glanced at Buck, he had that soft smile on his face that Eddie was grateful to recognize as one of his Diaz-specific looks.

“If I’m gonna find five million dollars worth of treasure, it’s not gonna be with her,” Buck said simply. Eddie felt his stomach flutter and that jealous heat that surged through him turned down to a simmer as Buck stared down at him.

“Yeah?” Eddie said because he wasn’t sure how else to respond. It was a simple statement but it held the entire universe to Eddie and he wondered if Buck realized that.

“The way I see it,” Buck began, stroking his thumb over the back of Eddie’s hand, “we have two choices. One, we go get the treasure and split it between the four of us; you, me, Taylor, and Paul.”

“Paul?”

“The cameraman. Does no one know his name?” Buck asked, shaking his head as if to bring himself back to the subject.

“And number two?” Eddie asked, staring down at the hand that held his so delicately. Buck slid a finger from his free hand underneath Eddie’s chin to force their eye contact and Eddie would never be able to explain away the audible gulp or the way his face reddened at the intensity of Buck’s gaze.

“Or two, we stay here and finally have that conversation you seem to be having with everyone else besides me,” Buck noted, narrowing his eyes knowingly. Eddie groaned and pulled his hand away, only marginally upset by the loss of contact. Buck’s laughter rang through the air again and Eddie wasn’t as comforted by it that time around.

“Seriously? Was I that obvious?” Eddie asked, sending a pleased glance in Buck’s direction.

“It was Taylor that really convinced me. I was feeling sorry for myself and I tried to put the moves on her—”

“You what—?” Eddie interrupted only to be waved off by Buck.

“Lapse of judgment on my part, but it’s not important. What is important,” Buck took a deep breath and with each word moved a little closer, “is that I think you’re incredible. You’re good-hearted and loyal, kind and full of forgiveness even when I clearly don’t deserve it. You love your son more than anything in this world and don’t care who knows it. You’re… everything? And I’m not sure why it took me so long—”

Eddie leaned in to kiss him.

He wasn’t thinking, hadn’t been for the last few days of anything besides that moment where their lips might touch and all of the pieces of Eddie’s life would slot into place. Kissing Buck felt like finally taking a sip of water or dipping his body into the ocean after the hottest day of the summer and touching him, holding Buck’s face in his hands steadied him so much, he wasn’t sure he had ever been so balanced. There was five million dollars waiting for him somewhere in L.A. but Eddie couldn’t bring himself to care about it. Nothing was worth more than finally having Buck exactly how he had dreamed. When Buck pulled away, the grin on his lips was enough for Eddie to realize that everything was going to be okay; more than okay.

The next day when he sat around the lunch table with his new family surrounding him, he could only focus on the way Buck caught his eye from across the table and the nudge of his foot against Eddie’s when they thought no one was paying attention. He was sure the smiles and soft looks they gave each other were anything but subtle. It was Taylor that surprised him. She raised her eyebrows at Eddie, her eyes darting between the two men carefully as if asking if her secret plan had worked. Eddie nodded, smiling widely as he mouthed her a thank you.

It wasn’t enough just to thank her but it was a start and he had more important things to focus on. Eddie glanced back at the most important thing--Buck.

#buddie #buddie fic #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buck x eddie #eddie x buck #911 #911 on fox #911 spoilers #911 fic #911 coda fic #my writing #this was supposed to be a quick one #but almost 3k later #OOOOPS #hope you like it!! <3

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tiffdawg · 4 years ago

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The Light of Stars | Chapter Eleven: Disillusionment

Gif: @bestintheparsec

The Light of Stars

Pairing: Din Djarin/ The Mandalorian x Reader (fem; no y/n)

Word Count: 5.5k

Rating: M | Warnings: the typical angst and a little smooching, mild language. No spoilers for season two!

Story Summary: In pursuit of the Child’s people, the mysterious Jedi, Din Djarin and his foundling find hope in a woman who shares the kid’s strange powers. Newly partnered with the Mandalorian, you are trained in the ways of the Force, but you’re no Jedi. You’re just trying to find your place in the galaxy.

A/N: Hi! It's been a while – much longer than I ever intended and for that I apologize. I want to say thank you to you all for reading my story and sticking with me. And to everyone who left comments on previous chapters, you have all my love for ever. I really do cherish each and everyone. You all inspire me to keep writing! Anyway, I'll stop rambling and let you read the latest installment of Jetii, Din, and Baby's (mis)adventures. This chapter is officially the beginning of the end!

Read on AO3

TLOS Masterlist | My Masterlist

… . …

Chapter Eleven: Disillusionment

The last few days were a blur as you cut across the galaxy at lightspeed. Time ceased to exist even as it passed you by, but it was uneventful in the best possible way as you spent what precious time you had left with the Mandalorian and his foundling quietly existing together.

You passed most of your time in the main cabin conversing with Mando. You always talked about your pasts. Never the future. But you considered yourself lucky to have that time with him. He spoke mostly of his youth with the Mandalorians and his early forays into bounty hunting, but occasionally he’d grace you with a story from his childhood. When he’d confessed that he hadn’t so much as said his parents' names aloud in decades but still found it within himself to share a treasured memory of them, you’d reached across the small space separating you to twine your fingers with his gloved ones as best you could. The words seemed to come a little easier after that. His life had been so full of sadness that you wondered if the last few weeks together had been an anomaly even with the chaos you’d brought into his life.

Down in the hull after tasteless meals of reconstituted food, you’d spent long hours reading texts from the Jedi holocron aloud to Mando while he disassembled, cleaned, and reassembled every blaster in his weapons locker twice-over. Other times he insisted on continuing your flying lessons but there wasn’t much to do as the ship sailed through hyperspace. During the infrequent fuel stops on lonely planets, you’d stretch your legs and find a quiet place to practice with the kid in consolation for long days spent trapped inside the ship.

That day, you’d landed on Mygeeto, a cold, frigid planet a few sectors from your final destination. Mando and the kid seemed unfazed by the icy winds, but you’d had to dig out your old parka just to walk to the closet cantina while the ship refueled. It was also a decently populated planet, big on mining and banking and a hub of trade. You were on the outskirts of a smaller spaceport, but it wasn’t somewhere you wanted to linger.

The docking bay was crowded with a steady rush of people coming and going earlier that morning. Now, when you stepped into the small, outdated docking bay ahead of the Mandalorian but behind the Child’s hovering carrier, it was deserted. Instantly, your eyes went to the fueling gear still hooked up to the Razor Crest. A quick glance around the bay told you the lone mechanic was nowhere to be seen. Most likely off working on one of the other starships. That meant the three of you were stuck on that icy, crystalline planet for at least a little while longer.

That meant trouble.

“Mando–”

“I know,” he sighed. “I made them back at the cantina. They aren’t with the guild, but they’re definitely hunters.”

“Were you just hoping they wouldn’t follow us back to the ship?”

“I wanted to get you two back to the Crest.” He entered a code on his vambrace and canceled the ship’s security protocols. After the ramp lowered, he closed the baby’s carrier and sent it into the hull of the ship.

“There are six of them,” you said, raising a brow at him, “and they’re right behind us.”

“Not a problem, sweetheart.” He placed a hand on the blaster holstered at his hip.

“Gods, you're cocky sometimes,” you retorted. Still, you extracted your lightsaber from your satchel before tossing the bag into the ship. It pained you to think that neither the baby nor Mando would be safe until that ex-Imp was taken care of for good. And even then, you worried about who else might know about the baby. You could only wish that wasn’t fated to be their only existence together. With his visor trained on you, his helmet tilted to the side. You shrugged as you took your place beside him.

“Don’t think I can handle it on my own?”

“I know you could, but you don’t have to,” you assured him. You glanced at him out of the corner of your eyes and found him watching you.

“I–”

Whatever he was going to say next was cut off by a noise coming from just beyond the entrance. Both of your heads snapped in that direction, alert and ready for a fight.

When the first blaster shot rang out, Mando returned it with one of his own.

“How many of them are there?” you shouted over the blast that rocked the Razor Crest. You’d mistakenly assumed you’d escaped after you’d fended off the six bounty hunters at the docking bay. The gunship fired back at Mando’s command.

“Down to two,” he answered as he hit a series of switches in rapid fire. He pulled the yoke and the ship took a nosedive through empty space. “Told you that spaceport was too big.”

“You didn’t say that.”

“I thought it.

Another hit set off one of the alarms. “Mando!”

“We’re almost to the hyperlane. Once we hit lightspeed, they can’t track us. Just hold on!”

You sighed in relief at the familiar streaks of blue light of hyperspace. Mando’s seat swiveled to face you and the Child. “You alright?” he asked the kid. He chirped happily in response. “I figured.” He turned to you, elbows resting on his knees as he leaned forward in his chair. “How about you?”

“I’m fine,” you assured him. You might’ve been a little rattled, but you’d seen worse. “We’re those the Moff’s men? How’d they track us to Mygeeto?”

“They didn’t.” A beat passed as you waited for him to explain. “They were already here. They’re amateurs. Gideon probably distributed fobs throughout the galaxy.”

While you’d gotten a decent glimpse of it on Vrogas Vas, you were beginning to see the severity of his situation. The Empire might’ve fallen years ago, but this former Imp had not. He had the resources and the reach to find the Mandalorian and the Child. And you didn’t like the thought of him taking on the Moff alone. “Mando, can you do something for me?”

“Anything,” he responded quickly.

You hesitated, doubting he would think that in a moment. “Will you send a holo to your tribe before you leave for Nevarro.” He straightened up at that, ready to protest. “You’re going to need all of the help you can get.”

“I can’t ask them to put the covert at risk for me. Not again.”

“So you know they would come for you?”

“Yes,” he answered, voice straining around the word.

“Do you think they hold what happened against you? Do you truly believe that any one of them regrets their choice?” He didn’t say anything, but you knew your assumption was right. And you knew his guilt was misplaced. They wouldn’t have welcomed him back, called him their brother, if that was the case. “You have to forgive yourself, Mando.” You unbuckled your safety restraints and kneeled before him. With a hand on the either curved cheek of his helmet, you forced him to look at you. You leveled him with a serious look, but he was unflinching, as still as ever. “Do you want to know what I think?”

“What?”

“They’re Mandalorians. They would want to fight with you. For you. How do you not see that?”

Wrapping his hands around your wrists, he pulled your hands away from his helmet. “I can’t do that for you.”

“Can’t or won’t?” you snapped before you stood and left the cabin.

… . …

Drawing his eyes away from the streaks of light bending around the Razor Crest, Din found you still in your seat next to him and the Child carefully cradled to your chest. With matching expressions – eyes closed and lips slightly parted – you both slept peacefully. Din had half a mind to wake you and send you both to your room. Even that makeshift bunk had to be more comfortable than the contorted position you’d maneuvered yourself into in your chair. But as the baby moved in your grasp to snuggle further into you, tiny clawed hands gripping the front of your tunic even as he drooled on it, he hesitated to disturb the scene before him.

Somehow, in the span of a few weeks, Din’s entire universe had narrowed to the two of you. His foundling, of course, was already his primary focus in life. And then you showed up and without even meaning to, the three of you had become a family.

Din had a family.

The realization struck him hard and fast, but quickly faded into something familiar. Something some part of him already knew because of course you were his family.

A soft smile pulled at the corner of Din’s mouth as the two of you dozed, bathed in blue starlight, until he realized that he wasn’t the only one who was going to miss you. The kid had grown fond of you, to say the absolute least. When he wasn’t toddling after Din or causing trouble, he was attached to your hip. But your days together were numbered.

He didn’t have time to dwell on that reality. He was suddenly pulled from deep within his own mind by the quiet beep of an incoming holo. With the flick of a single switch, Greef Karga’s figure, in miniature and cast in static blue light, appeared on the console.

Karga’s booming voice filled the silent cabin. “I’ve been trying to reach you for days, Mando.”

“I’ve been out of range.”

“While I’m sure your new quest has taken you to the furthest reaches of this galaxy, there are more pressing matters at hand here on Nevarro. Would you care to tell me why Moff Gideon, the man you supposedly killed, is amassing stormtroopers outside my city?” he asked pointedly. “Word is he’s looking for you.”

“I’m aware,” Din sighed. “I’ll be there in a few days. I have something I need to take care of first.”

“Something or someone?” Karga mused lowly with a deep chuckle. Din followed his line of sight. Next to him, you’d woken and leaned forward in your seat just enough for the holocam to pick up your image. You watched the guild leader with interest. “Who might this stunning creature be?”

“End of the week,” Din said curtly before switching off the holo.

“Who was that?” you asked. You spoke softly, mindful of the baby in your hold. Your tired gaze lingered on the spot where Karga’s figure stood a moment ago before drifting to Din.

“No one.”

“Right,” you said with a gentle roll of your eyes. “I heard you mention Nevarro.”

“He’s an old associate.”

“A friend?” you supplied, brows lifting with the question.

“Sometimes.”

“Well, I imagine that means something coming from you.” There was a glint of humor in your eyes but faded into something more serious as you leveled him with a stern look. “Are you sure we shouldn’t go there first?” you asked, not for the first time. “You know I’m good in a fight.”

A small huff of a laugh escaped him. You could hold your own, of that he had no doubt. And the thought of having you with him for a few extra days was nothing short of tempting. Still, something told him that was how things were meant to happen. That was the original deal the two of you struck up, after all, and the course was already set. The Crest was less than a day out from the Lah’mu sector. It would be easier on his own heart to stick to it. Surprisingly, your argument from the day before had faded into the background. He’d come to expect more of a fight from you, but you’d rejoined him in the cockpit that morning as if nothing had happened.

He decided it was best not to prompt another argument. He stood and held out a hand to you. “It’s been a long day. You should go to bed.”

You placed your hand in his and let him pull you to your feet before you gently handed the still-sleeping baby to him. “You should too.”

The kid didn’t so much as stir as Din placed him in his makeshift hammock above his cot. He started to remove his armor, stowing the Beskar for a few hours of much needed reprieve. Lost deep in his own tired mind, he didn’t hear you emerge from the ship’s small refresher.

“What’s that?”

“What?”

“That.” He glanced over his shoulder at you just in time to see you gesturing toward the compartment.

“Exactly what it looks like.” That time he heard you move closer to him as you peered around his form.

“You’ve been sleeping here?” you asked incredulously. “I thought there was another bunkroom.”

“No,” Din answered flatly. He couldn’t see why that was an issue – especially at the late hour but the scowl on your face as you moved between him and the compartment told him that you expected a better explanation. “Technically there aren’t any bunkrooms on the Crest. Yours was extra carbonite storage for backlog. I converted it recently because the kid kept trying to crawl in here with me and there’s not exactly enough space for two. I wasn’t taking on any quarries so I figured it would work temporarily.”

“And you gave it to me?”

“Yes.”

“Why would you do that?”

“It’s nothing,” he said, hoping to brush it off.

“Mando,” you sighed, sounding stuck somewhere between exasperation and gratitude. You pursed your lips as you looked back at the cot. “This the sorriest excuse for a bed I’ve ever seen. I’m not letting you sleep here.”

“Where would you have me sleep?” he asked, not bothering to hide the amusement in his voice.

“In your bed,” you replied, crossing your arms over your chest. You could be so stubborn when you wanted. Almost as stubborn as him.

“And you?” he asked.

“I’ll be there too.” There was a hint of a mischievous smile playing on your lips.

“Last time–”

Your voice dropped to a whisper, but it was enough to make him forget the rest of his sentence. “I miss having you in my bed.”

A chill shot down his spine and settled low inside him as he watched you scale the ladder that led to your room and left him to follow. Just before you disappeared, you threw a playful insult back at him. “Di’kut.”

His chest deflated as a deep sigh fell from his lips. “Let me guess who taught you that,” he called after you, rolling his eyes at your receding figure. He sealed the small compartment and followed you up.

“You had your chance to teach me nice things in Mando’a,” you retorted. “Now I can insult you seven ways to Scarif!”

“Great,” he muttered with a light laugh.

“To be fair,” you offered when he finally walked into your small bunkroom, “Paz called me an idiot too.”

Din froze at the threshold as a cold fear rushed over him. “He told you his name?” he hissed.

“Yeah.” You said it almost lightly, but Din heard the slight edge undercutting your words. He knew you understood the significance of the act. He could see it in the way you teased your bottom lip between your teeth. “I didn’t ask. He just told me. He said it was okay,” you tried to clarify. “It’s not like I expect you–”

“Do you want to know?” he replied quickly despite not knowing if he was prepared to give it if you said yes. While there were a few select people who knew his name now, he had never shared it with anyone himself. If Vizsla could share his name with someone outside the covert, then so could he. Right?

“Of course I do. I want to know all of you,” you started slowly. You stepped closer to him, gently resting your hands on his last piece of armor. Your eyes followed the path of your fingers as you traced the mended edge of his cuirass. “But I only want what pieces of yourself you want to share with me. I would never ask.”

“I know you wouldn’t. You never ask for anything.”

“I asked you to come to bed with me,” you teased, trying to divert the conversation.

“No. You told me.” You smiled almost shyly and made to move away, but Din reached for your hands and held you in place. “Ask me for something. I’ll give it to you.” You eyed him for a long moment as you considered his request. He could see the thoughts racing in your mind. “Ask me for anything,” he repeated.

“Anything?”

“Yes.”

“I want you to promise me something.”

“A promise?” His brows furrowed behind the visor.

“Do you remember our last conversation that morning at the covert? Because I haven’t forgotten it.” Neither had Din. He nodded once and you squeezed his hands. “No matter what answers we find on Lah’mu, no matter where your journey takes you and your son next, no matter how many years or decades it’s been since we parted,” you took a deep breath as your voice wavered, “I want you to promise me that you will pursue a life that makes you happy. The both of you. Whatever that may be.”

Din had no response to that. He’d given you permission to ask him for anything and for some godsforsaken reason you asked for his happiness. He was struck, hardly for the first time, by just how much good there was in you. That you could possibly care about him that way even amidst your own turmoil. He would’ve preferred you ask him to call his tribe members for help. “Sweetheart–” he tried to admonish.

“Promise me, you stubborn Mandalorian,” you demanded with a new fire in your eyes. “You said you would give me anything. That’s what I want. If I can’t— If I can’t be there with you, I at least want to know in my heart that wherever you are, you are happy.” When he didn’t say anything, you pleaded. “Please, Mando.”

Lifting a hand to the back of your head, he drew you closer to him and gently pressed his helmet to your forehead, kissing you in the only way he could in that moment. “I promise,” Din swore even though that didn’t change the fact that there was only one way he ended up happy.

“Thank you,” you sighed as if he’d given you something you needed. Without parting, your fingers dipped beneath the edge of his cuirass. “May I?” He nodded against you and you pulled just enough to deactivate the magnetic hold. Others had tried to take his armor off in the past, usually by force, but with you it felt like a barrier. Something keeping him from what he really wanted.

As Din laid in the too-small bunk with you, your words echoed in his mind. If I can’t be there with you, I at least want to know in my heart that wherever you are, you are happy. With every quiet moment that passed, each one somehow longer than the next, he seemed to move closer to you, and you to him, until you met somewhere in the middle. His forehead knocked against yours again and as your breath ghosted across his face, he fought his overwhelming desire to kiss you. Really kiss you. To show you just how much your care for him affected him. But he remembered what happened the last time you’d tried something like that. It ended with you crying into his chest as he held you through the long night.

He asked anyway. “Can I kiss you?” he rasped.

“I thought you just did, Mandalorian,” you teased.

He rolled you over onto your back, caging you in as he leaned on his elbows to hover above you. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he rasped.

Before you could offer some smart retort, he slotted his mouth over yours. Despite his eagerness, he felt clumsy and unpracticed. Considering he’d never kissed anyone before you, he absolutely was. You were the only one he’d ever wanted like this. Based on the breathy little noises you made for him, you didn’t seem to mind his inexperience.

He pressed the weight of his body into yours, pinning you beneath him, until there was no space between you. You were molded to him and him to you in a way that felt natural. It felt right. He was growing accustomed to it even as he knew he shouldn’t. But those moments with you, unmasked and exposed, were too enticing.

Din never said he was a good man.

… . …

In the light of an early morning, you ran through an open field surrounded by a forest of tall evergreens. Soft wild grass cushioned each stride as you sprinted toward the tree line, chasing the fresh, spicy scent. Behind you, someone pursued you at full speed.

No. That wasn’t right.

You glanced over your shoulder only to find not one but two young children sprinting after you, squealing and smiling. Your heart practically burst at the sight of their unbridled joy and a laugh of your own bubbled past your lips. You slowed your pace, giving in to them easily, and two sets of arms wrapped around your legs. You knelt in the dewy grass, rewarding them with snug hugs and kisses on their chubby cheeks, and earning yourself another jubilant round of laughter from them both.

Together, they begged you to chase them next, and unable to deny them anything, you readily agreed. You stood, shooing them off to get a head start. But they wouldn’t run away just yet. Not when they were too distracted by something behind you. Another pair of arms, only much stronger, wrapped around you.

The kids ran off, shouting catch us, dad! A low rumble reverberated through your back as the man behind you laughed at the children’s wild antics. Your eyes fell closed as you leaned into him, deciding you’d follow the children in a moment. Right then all you wanted was to savor his embrace. It felt like the closest thing to home you’d ever known.

You turned your head as if to look over your shoulder and a pair of lips met yours. Even after the kiss ended, you didn’t part. The feel of his smile hovering against your lips was almost as intoxicating as his kiss.

“Good morning, Din,” you sighed.

You startled awake with a sharp inhale.

Disoriented and scared, you tried to make sense of what you’d just seen. That dream felt real. Too real. Considering the turn your life had taken in the past few weeks, you had no idea what it was. A remnant of your vision. An offering from the Force. Or just your imagination playing tricks on you. It seems like the closer you get to Lah’mu, the more the Force saw fit to taunt you with that other future.

Your eyes searched the pitch-black room for some sort of sign as to where you were, but you couldn’t see anything. Instead, you felt an arm around your waist, holding you securely.

Mando’s arm.

You were still on the Razor Crest, tucked away in your shared bunk that was too small for the both of you, and he was fast asleep behind you, warm and solid. You felt him shift behind you, lifting his head from his pillow to look down at you in the dark.

“Are you okay?” he asked hoarsely. Even in sleep that man missed nothing. Mando’s hold on you tightened, pulling you back against his chest.

“Yeah,” you assured him. “Just a dream.”

“Another nightmare?”

“No. Not quite. Just...” You screwed your eyes shut and tried to banish the lingering images, or rather sensations, of that other man from your mind. Mando’s voice cut through your daze as he called your name, drawing you back into the present. “Just strange. It almost felt like another vision.”

“Of your future on Lah’mu?”

“I don’t think so.”

Din shifted closer. “Your other future?”

“Yes,” you offered meekly.

“What do you dream of? With him?” The question hurt and you said nothing for a long time. The more time you spent with Mando and the baby, the more certain you were that you’d made the right choice. A life on Lah’mu as a lonely Jedi master was more appealing than a future with a stranger you could never love. Not when your heart belonged to the man lying next to you. Seeing him amongst his people had only reinforced your conclusion that Mando was not the man in your vision. It was not the way. His way. But you supposed that didn’t matter and you were only making yourself upset for no reason by reminding yourself of the fact. You’d chosen your path. “You can tell me,” he prompted again.

You shook your head and craned your neck to face him even though he couldn’t see you. You were so close your noses brushed, but he made no move to part. “No, I don’t think I can.”

A tension hung between you as you waited for his response. “The offer stands,” he finally replied.

“And I appreciate that.” But all you really wanted was to put that dream out of your mind and forget about it entirely. The man next to you provided the perfect distraction.

You closed that last bit of space between you, letting your mouths meet in a slow, lingering kiss. His soft, slightly chapped lips matched with yours with aching tenderness. Just like that, with him, you felt safe from all the uncertainties your future held. You decided you could indulge in it just a little while longer. Continue what he’d started the night before.

“Good morning, Mando,” you sighed around a lazy smile when you finally parted.

“Good morning, cyar’ika.”

He sounded happier, and your grin pulled taut and you turned in his arms. Holding his face with your hands, your lips melded with his again. He didn’t start at your touch anymore. He sought it out. With a hand gripping your hip, he pressed you closer.

“I could stay right here,” you murmured your confession against his lips in between hungry kisses, “forever.”

“Fuck, so could I,” he admitted. You slipped your tongue into his mouth as his lips parted around his words, earning a broken, desperate moan from him.

He let you roll him into his back, and you moved so that you were on top of him, a knee pressing into the thin mattress on either side of him. Your hungry mouths slotted together once more.

You longed to feel his skin against yours again and as his hands slid lower, you thought he was going to free you from your tunic. But then his hands traveled further, past the hemline, over your hips and just kept going until he squeezed the swell of your backside, fingers digging into your fabric covered flesh, and ground your hips down against him. Against something hard.

“Oh fuck,” you gasped into his mouth. He chuckled darkly against your cheek as he did it again. That had no right to feel that good. You’d had your suspicions, but knowing he wanted you like that was a whole new thrill. “Eager this morning?” you asked as you searched for breath.

“You started it,” he said low and teasing while nipping at your bottom lip.

“Let me kiss you while I can.” He stilled his movements beneath you. You’d meant it as a joke, but it hurt. You pulled away and rested your head against his chest, letting out a long, slow exhalation as that all-consuming melancholy that seeped into the stolen moment. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“It’s fine,” he ground out. It wasn’t fine. You could hear it in his voice. Even as he moved you off of him with the gentlest touch, you felt the distance growing between you once more. He slipped out of the bunk and you listened to him search for his helmet in the dark, but you sensed him hesitate and he turned back to you, cupping your face between his hands and pressing his lips to yours. There was something about this kiss that felt different. There was a desperate sort of passion that sends adrenaline coursing through your veins. You return it with equal fervor, pouring all your love for him into that kiss.

“What was that for?” you asked when he finally parted from you.

“I never know.”

“Know what?”

When he spoke next, his voice came to you filtered through the modulator. “I never know when it will be our last.”

The truth of his words tore through you, leaving you feeling cold as you packed your things and emptied the converted bunkroom of all traces of you.

After descending the Razor Crest’s ramp, your boots hit the soft grass first, sinking slightly into the black soil that covered the planet. A cool, misty air kissed your skin as you stepped away from the safety of the ship. Your eyes scanned the green valley, landing on the small settlement that dotted the landscape.

You felt Mando approach. He stopped a half step behind you, but his presence felt heavy, almost overwhelming, as you tried to focus. Still, you knew he’d wait for your call.

“She’s here,” you announced quietly, voice barely audible over the crashing waves. You peered back at him over your shoulder, finding his dark visor already trained on you. His helmet tilted slightly. Your heart swelled with affection at the familiar, inquisitive movement. You were well beyond chastising yourself for the sentiment, even if it hurt. “And I think she’s close.” You tore your eyes away from him, ignoring the way the words seemed to get stuck in your throat. Finding your former master had been your goal for years. Now, for the first time in nearly a decade, the two of you were on the same planet. Yet you felt no joy at that momentous fact.

You felt a steady hand rest between your shoulder blades. “I’m right behind you, cyar’ika. Lead the way.”

After a few hours of trekking along the base of the rolling hills at the direction of one talkative settler, you found a lone woman meditating in a grassy field. She faced away from you, but the lavender hair styled in a low chignon and dark flowing robes told you exactly who she was.

“Wait here,” you directed without ever taking your eyes off of her. A familiar hand wrapped around yours, stalling you. “It’ll be okay, Mando, but you have to let go.”

You took another step forward and your hand slipped out of his. When you stopped a few paces away, you hesitated. Even after all the years you’d spent searching for your former master, you never figured out what you wanted to say.

Before you could so much as open your mouth, a flash of violet light cut across your vision. Reacting on instinct, you reached for your lightsaber, blocking the attack at the last moment.

Falling back a step, you grounded yourself before meeting her next strike. A clash of blue and purple plasma sputtered before you. Over the cross of your sabers, you saw her calculating amber eyes flick to the side as she lifted a hand. Daring a glance back, you saw Mando frozen in place, blaster drawn and ready to fire.

The force behind your next attack sent Zarichi reeling.

“You hurt them,” you said through gritted teeth in between parries, “and I’ll strike you down where you stand.”

“You don’t have it in you,” she scoffed.

“You don’t know what I’m capable of.”

“I taught you everything.” Her next drive, three strong blows you narrowly managed to counter, landed you flat on your back with her saber at your neck. The slightest move would’ve singed your skin. “And you’re out of practice, padawan.”

Before she could so much disengage her lightsaber, she was thrown across the field by some unseen force. You watched her tumble to the ground in a heap before snapping your head to the kid. He stood next to his father, hand outstretched and eyes closed. “Damn,” you breathed.

Zarichi stood and dusted herself off, eyes locked on the baby at Mando’s side. “How curious,” she assed, with a hint of a laugh. Without another word, she set off back toward the settlement. Sighing, you fell back against the grass.

With the baby clutched to his chest and a hand on his hip, Mando appeared above you. “That’s your master?” He didn’t sound amused.

“What’d you expect?” you asked with a shrug. “She’s a Jedi.”

... . ...

Thank you for reading!

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aesthbaby · 4 years ago

Text

Attention pt. 2

Summary: After being the unsub’s latest victim in a joint case with the BAU, you see what was missing. Nothing’s ever been clearer and all it took was being rendered unconscious by an unsub in front of your girlfriend and her entire team.

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x Plus!size reader

Prompt: Check part one

Warnings: cursing | kissing | injury | mentions of a fictional case | poisoning

Word count: 2719

Masterlist

An: I’m pretty sure you can read this as a stand alone if you wanted to but here’s part one. Also, I’m sorry this took me 2 months to publish.

The moon is brighter than the sun? No I’m pretty sure the sun is. What’s wrong with me? Why does my head hurt?

You attempt to reach for your head but your arms are too heavy to be of any use.

That’s definitely not the moon.

The light source is moving. It’s a flashlight, the pocket sized one.

“Stay with us.” You hear a jumble voice from behind but can’t make out who it is. “We’re almost there.” The light is too bright but you can’t bring yourself to say anything. It hurts. “No, no stay up. We’re almost there.” It’s Emily, and she’s the source of the blinding presence. “Can you sit up for me?” You’re saying yes but nothing seems to come out and all you feel is fatigue. Your body is leaving this earth.

And there she is, yelling your name as its being drowned out by the darkness that’s enveloping you.

~~~~~~~~

“Hey!” Emily shouts from the stairs. “Stop day-dreaming and help me.”

“Help you? What’s going on?” The ground feels unsteady but the scene looks familiar.

Emily sets the box of towels on the counter top. “What?”

“Where am I?” You start to examine your hands, wondering what in the holy hell is happening.

“Babe,” The nickname gets your attention immediately. “Are you okay?”

“Emily,” She places a hand on your forehead.

“No fever.”

“Emily, I’ve already done this.”

“What do you mean?” She laughs. “We’ve been at this for hours. You have may more stuff than you let on. Plus, if we’ve ‘already done this’ I wouldn’t have had to tote all of these boxes by myself.”

A ‘sorry’ almost rolls off your tongue but it doesn’t make a sound. “No, Em I’m being serious.”

She plops down on the white arm chair and let’s out a huff. “Fine, you got me.” At your confused expression, she continues. “We’ve been here before, atleast you have. Three months ago you moved into this apartment with the love of your life, Emily Prentiss.”

Barely managing a stutter, “You’re not Emily?”

“Yes. Well, not exactly. I’m your version of her.”

“Am I-” You swallow the lump in your throat before saying the next part. “Dead?”

“What?” She smiles. “No. Just sleeping. A deep sleep at that.” She mumbles the last part.

“What happened? Why am I here?” You Can feel the panic and dread starting to set in. “I want Emily. I don’t want to be here.”

“Woah.” The brunette stands from her seat. “Calm down, you’re okay. Just take it easy.”

“Easy?” Now the anger is starting to boil. “I’m in a fucking coma with a fake girlfriend and you’re telling me to ‘take it easy??”

“Hey, look at me.” When you don’t move to look at her she gently takes your head. “You’re not in a coma y/n/n. You’re just sleeping.”

A tear starts to wellup in your eye. “But what does that mean?”

“Do you remember why you went to work with me today?”

“Uh,” You trail. “I think it was for a case.”

“Right, but why were you there?”

“Emily mentioned me to Hotch a year ago, about how good of an agent I am. That was before we were together.”

“Right,” She nods while doing that lip biting thing. “But why?”

“What the fuck do you mean ‘why?’ I don’t know why.” You begin to pace the shared loft. “I thought she was just putting in a good word for me.”

“Y/n, you know there’s more to it than that.”

You stop your movement and turn to face her. “Then tell me, you know!”

“No I don’t. I told you in not really her; I’m your version of her. I only know as much as you know.”

You slowly sink down on the plush couch. “I want Emily. I want the real Emily.”

“Then go to her.” She sits beside you and lays a gentle hand on your knee.

“How? I don’t even know why I’m here or what’s going on with me. I just want to go home.” The tears are staring again but not falling.

“Yes you do. Come with me.” She stands and holds out a pale palm to you. Hesitantly taking it, she leads you to your bedroom door. “Are you ready?” As soon as she sees you nod she opens the door and a bright light pulls you both in.

“Em, where are we?” In front of you is the bed to which you’ve been sharing for months now. On it is Emily in one of your big t-shirts on the phone with someone. “Wha-”

“Wait,” Your artificial Emily whispers.

The closet door opens and you step out in the new pajamas she bought you. “You look good.” She smiles with the phone away from her ear.

“Who is that?” You mouth as you crawl into bed with her.

“Hotch.” The classic toothy smile is on display as she replies. “Yes! Sir— I’m sorry but I- no we do not. Okay thank you.”

“What was that?”

“Hotch was asking for my input on the new trainees.”

“And....?”

“I did a thing.” She drags.

“A thing?” You arch your eyebrow.

“Yes.” She moves to straddle your lap.

“What was it?” Her lips on your neck completely scrambles your brain. Effectively making you forget what you were asking.

“What is this? I barely remember it.” You turn to face your rendition of Emily. All you get is a shrug in reply from her. “She wasn’t actually talking about trainees, was she?” Another shrug. “I’ll take that as a no. Was she talking about the poisoning case?” Silence. “She recommended my department to help with the murders.”

“Finally, but you still don’t know why.”

“Do I need to? Why does it actually matter.”

“Come on babe,” She brushes a hand down your arm. “I know you’re smarter than this.”

“Since when do you call me ‘babe?”

“We’ve been over this, I’m not Emily. I’m your version of Emily and apparently you subconsciously wish she’d call you more pet names.”

I’ve never thought of it like that...

“I want to show you something else,” She gestures to the bathroom. “Pay attention this time.” As she leads you through the door you can hear your past self speaking.

“She told me I have a weight problem with a god complex intertwined.” You huff from the bathroom mirror.

“Who?” Em is sitting on the edge of the bath moisturizing.

“That bitch I work with!”

“The same one who asked if Africa was a country?” She scrunches her face up in a disgusted twist.

“Yes! Who says that to someone?”

“Yeah how did she get into the academy anyway?”

“Privilege, both Pretty and Rich.”

She lets out a scuff. “That cannot be real.” You turn to her with a confused look. “Pretty privilege.”

“It’s very real and you clearly have it.”

The brunette stops dead in her tracks. “What?”

“You’re gorgeous Em, and you have been appointed more opportunities for it.”

“I’d like to think differently....” she trails.

“I’m not saying you haven’t worked hard to get where you are today but your looks have pushed you a bit further than the rest of us.”

She’s silent for a bit, to the point where you start to worry that you’ve done something wrong. “Then what does that make you?”

You place your towel on the rack and turn to face her again. “What do you mean?”

“You have the looks, charm, and brains. Do you consider yourself to be ‘privileged?”

Completely bipassing the question, “You think I’m pretty?”

“Was that not obvious before? I practically drool whenever I look at you.” She’s as sincere as always but your eye rolls says you don’t believe her. “I know how you can get trapped inside your head sometimes, but I want you to know that I do not share the opinions you have of yourself. You look at yourself and dismiss your beauty while I embrace it. You’re always doubting your intellect when I find myself wondering how I got so lucky to fall in love with a female version of Spencer.” Your small smile morphs into a laugh at the Spencer mention.

“I can’t stand it when you go all soft on me.” Hearing Emily say stuff like this always surprises you because she’s not really the type of person to confess all of this first. It’s usually you who has to adress your emotions as a couple.

“Only for you.” She leans up and plants a kiss on your cheek.

As the memory fades you turn to the consciousness you’ve been talking to. “Shit.”

“Yup.” She draws.

“The reason she didn’t see my connection to the victims is because she doesn’t see that side of. She doesn’t see me as her ‘Plus-Sized Girlfriend.’ She only sees me as her girlfriend, no other labels attached.”

“So, you get it? Do understand why?”

“I get it now.” A tear teeters on the edge of your eyelid. “Yeah, I get it.”

She snakes an arm around you, effectively pulling you into a tight hug. “Are you ready now?” She even smells like your Emily, the memory making the tear fall from your eye. “Remember what I showed you, okay?” Before you can respond a warm light envelopes you.

It makes sense now, she recommended me for the case because of my abilities, no because we’re together or she wanted me to get ahead. She has a blind spot that’s blocking a good chunk of her perception of me. She couldn’t have known I would’ve been targeted. The unsub could’ve been watching me way before I got involved. There’s still a bunch of holes in the case but this is the best you’ve got. Please remember all of this before you wake up.

Your eyes are heavy again. The room feels cold but warm at the same time. Trying to peak out of one eye proves more difficult than it seems. The blinding light of the room is overwhelming, it’s like white ice. Now I’m not making sense. You try to cry out for someone, anyone, but the words die off on your dry lips before they can formulate. “Hey,” You hear a voice softy call from the other side of the room. A tender hand plants itself on your knee, making you flinch a bit. “Glad to see you awake.” Why do I know that voice? In front of your barely open eye is a blonde blob; as your eyes began to focus you realize it’s Jennifer.

As you try to master a hey all that comes out is a low croak. “Its okay, don’t try to speak just yet.” Everything in your head feels fuzzy but the only thing you’re able to think about is Emily. A hum that barely resembles an ‘M’ boils out your vocal cords.

“Emily?” She clarifies on your behalf. A small smile breaches your features. “I’ll go get her and the doctor.” No less that a minute later you can hear her healed boots tapping towards the room. She rushes to your side, planting kisses along your forehead. The doctor does her round of intake on your body with Emily glued to your side.

“Agent y/l/n should make a full recovery so long as the healing process goes as planned.” Was all you managed to absorb as she explained the aftercare plan for you. All of this while JJ is in the background putting the pieces together. She had a feeling Emily was seeing someone but had no idea that someone was you. The way she’d been acting since you collapsed in the office made her also connect the dots. Emily explained her concerned behavior as a long friendship you two once had. Everything was starting to make sense now; you’re the one person who could break Emily’s walls and tear down this compartmentalization bullshit she has going on. Not wanting to impede on what she can only assume is a private moment, she steps out of the room to inform the rest of the team.

“Are you okay?” It’s like she wants to cry, scream, ball her eyes out but all of that built up emotional strain won’t allow her. Instead of letting her do this to herself, you try your best to shift in the bed. “What are you doing?” You didn’t get very far but now there’s an empty space beside you. Motioning for her to lay next to you actually works. With both of you in the annoying small hospital bed you can hold her closer, feeling the quick heart beat. The brunette head of hair in nuzzled in your chest so not to interfere with the tubes and wires still attached to you.

Taking a deep breath and just enjoying the moment, you finally speak. “I’m okay. I mean I feel like I swallowed sandpaper but I’m okay.” You can almost feel the sigh release from her chest.

“We still have no idea how you were poisoned or why you were targeted.” Her jaded voice is always never this emotional, it’s strange to hear her so vulnerable. “For the smartest minds of the FBI we feel a little stupid.” The laugh the bounces around in your throat is painful, still welcomed. “Baby,” She starts after a moment of silence. “If I have realized the connection between you and the victims, I wouldn’t have let you work this.”

“You didn’t know,” You have no idea where this is coming from but something in the back of your mind is telling you to explain it to her. “You don’t see all of me, Em.”

She sniffles and buried herself deeper into you. “When I look at you, all I see is you. I don’t see your weight or your figure, I only see you. My girlfriend. You’re right, that’s the problem. I’m only seeing part of you. Not all of you. I don’t deserve you.” She moves to stand but you quickly pull her back in before she gets the chance.

“You can’t run from this, Emily. I understand that you didn’t do this intentionally.”

“My actions- blindness almost costed you your life. I can’t put you in danger again.” When she pulls away you let her go this time.

“Emily. You’ve ran away from your own shadow before, aren’t you tired?”

“If it means keeping you safe, I’ll file a fucking restraining order!” She nearly yells.

“Don’t do that. Everytime you fuck up you get that look in your eye like I’m going to break up with you or something. I’m not. I know you’re waiting on the other shoe to drop but I promise it’s not. All of those other guys you’ve been with? I’m not them. Big difference is that I’m female and a lot more mature. I’m also not as psychotic as he who shall not be named.” A small smile breaches her features. “I love you. Rather you like it or not, you’re stuck with me.”

“Oh really? Wait until Garcia finds out I’ve been hiding this from her. She’s going to wanna know all about you. You’ll definitely be invited to the next girls night.”

“I don’t mind.” You shrug. “But seriously, how did I get poisoned?”

“The forensic team is still searching our place, nothing yet but you know they like to take their sweet time with cases. I’ve obviously be recused from the case while the rest of the team works with the CDC and the Anti-terrorism division. We also have agents and Unis posted outside the room and hospital so the Unsub has no chance of coming after you again. Even an added air filter so he has no vent system.” She waves towards the attachment on top of the existing air vent. No wonder the air smells so crisp in here.

“Sounds like I’m in good hands.”

“You are, just wish I could be out there with them.”

“You’re right where you need to be, right where I need you.” You stretch your arms out to her like the way a child does.

She laughs at the gesture but complies. Instead of squishing into the small bed she drags the chair to the side of your bed, firmly clasping your hand in her’s.

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extremelyblackandwhite · 4 years ago

Text

innocence - 05

PAIRING: bodyguard!bucky barnes x innocent actress!reader

WARNINGS: age gap, wounds

A/N: another day, another chapter. thank you guys so so much for the support, i am so glad you’re enjoying the story. much love xx

NEXT CHAPTER

Bucky’s free days weren’t something that would look good on a movie. He enjoyed being outside, away from everything. Headphones on, hat on, no one really looks at him, no one cares. Bucky learned that a long long time ago; people don’t care. He is thankful for that, he is thankful for the bleak reality where the Winter Soldier can walk the streets of New York without calling much attention to him. Sure, he has to cover his arm and hand but that’s the worse of it. Other than that, he’s free to roam the streets until twilight, headphones on, not a single thought on his mind. It’s almost as if he can escape his body.

He kept walking down the street, eyes roaming the crowd. He didn’t know why he constantly looked through the crowd, maybe he was scared but that was something he didn’t want to delve in. He grabbed his phone off his back pocket once it rang, not expecting the sender’s name. Y/N. The text was vague, mostly asking him she needed his help and as such he changed ways on his walk, instead going to SoHo, to her flat.

Various reasons as to why she was asking for help ran through his mind. She could’ve been burgled, hurt, someone could be trying to hurt her and suddenly the walk turned into a run. Her flat wasn’t too far away from where he lived, you could reach it in a mere 20 minute slow walk yet 20 minutes seemed like an eternity.

He reached his apartment as fast as thunder, opting for the stairs believing it would be faster if he climbed them up. The hallway was silent, he could hear his heart beat as he put his hand on the handle of her entry door, too his surprise it was open. What if she’s getting mugged? He got into position to bring down whatever threat awaited him under the door. Instead, he found the actress of her knees surrounded by various sizes of broken glass, trying to pick them all up with her bare hands while hiccuping.

- Y/N? - Y/N turned around, noticing Bucky standing in front of her door. Her clenched hands opened, glass rolling to the ground. - What happened?

- I dropped the vase. - she sighed, forcing a smile which he could see through. He walked up to her, extending his hand to her. - It’s fine, Bucky.

- Come on. - she settled her hand on top of his and he flexed his arm, helping her up. His eyes moved to her knees where some pieces of glass had lodged themselves, some merely glued by sweat and others bleeding streams down her leg, her hands too were stabbed with little pieces of glass from trying to gather it all up. Still, she moved her heel, trying to assemble the glass all in one spot. - Do you have any first aid kit?

- There is one in the bathroom. - she pointed down the hall. She remembered Miss Olson telling her where it was in case there was any wounds, wounds which certainly weren’t acceptable considering she would have to be in short outfits the whole time during the shot. With that in mind, she looked down to see small streams of scarlet coloured blood rushing down her legs. Oh no.

Bucky, on the other hand, was more interested in getting her proper first aid for the wounds on her knees and hands. As they reached the bathroom door, he opened it using his elbow. It was a rather small bathroom for such a big apartment, he thought to himself, could barely fit the two of them without them having to be glued together. In an effort to get some space, Bucky wrapped his hands around her waist, upboosting her in the air before sitting her in the marbled sink. Y/N could feel her whole being fire up as his hands made contact with her fabric covered skin, looking the other way hoping the cold air coming from the open door would sooth her. Once she looked back at him, he had his arms up, raising to grab the first aid red box standing just above her mirror. Her eyes darted to the muscle in his flesh arm, wondered at how his metal appendage seemed a perfect reflection of it. Maybe she shouldn’t have been so invested in the marvellous work that was his metal arm as when he returned with the box, their eyes locked in a manner that was definitely uncomfortable for both of them. It was her who broke it, looking at the bathtub to her right but Bucky was still very much inspecting her; her decoultage on display from the low cut of the dress, collarbones poking through the skin as her chest went up and down. It crossed his mind that the Winter Soldier would easily kill her if he wanted. At that thought he seemed to snap of whatever daze he was in, opening the small and unwell equipped first aid box in his hands.

- I’m gonna take the glass with some tweezers first. Is that okay? - Y/N nodded as he leaned down, putting himself on his knees so he could extract whatever bits of glass had embedded themselves with her skin. Luckily for her, she only had a few that would need to be removed as the others were merely stuck on due to the sweat covering her legs. His hand went behind her calf, slowly rising it up before starting to pull glass off her knee.

It didn’t hurt, the glass it is. There were plenty of things that were hurting at that precise moment but the glass wasn’t one of them. Nevertheless, she couldn’t help it but look down at him, brow furrowed as he concentrated his task and cold hand propping her leg up. She wanted to apologise, she wanted to apologise but she didn’t know what for. Maybe she would apologise for her phone sending the message later than she intended, maybe she would apologise for destroying his day. She didn’t know about what she should apologise but she needed to apologise. Lost in her mind, she didn’t notice he had already finished extracting shards from her knees until he rubbed a wet towel on her leg, getting rid of little stuck on shards and blood which was starting to dry. As if she would break at any harsh movement, Bucky slowly let her leg return to its natural position, slightly turning around to grab an antiseptic bottle and some colourful cotton balls Y/N keep on an acrylic display atop of her skin. With those in hand, he dripped some liquid onto the cotton before returning to tend to her knees, spreading the antiseptic and then wrapping both her knees in gauze.

- Let me look at your hands. - he got back on his feet. Y/N extended her hands towards him, a weird feeling of shame coursing through her. Luckily for her, there wasn’t much damage to her hands; a cut here and there but that was the worst of it. Just like for her knees, he got rid of extra glass and cleaned the wound before wrapping her hands with the same type of gauze as her knees. - You don’t have any deep cuts so you’re lucky you can take that off tomorrow.

- Thank you, Bucky. - she wanted to look him in the eye, she really did, but his fingers on her palm had her unable to take her eyes off her own palm. - I’m sorry for ruining your day off. The message was supposed to have been sent earlier, it bounced off and I guessed it must’ve sent once I got some signal.

- Why? Was there something wrong? - he helped her from the sink, leading her off the bathroom so they could hopefully have more space.

- It’s really nothing, I just … It’s nothing. - she sighed, forced smile on her lips which Bucky could clearly read through. - I’m sorry.

- You’ve apologised two times in the space of a minute. Trust me, you don’t need to apologise for people doing their job.

- But it’s your day off.

- I don’t have days off, Y/N.

It was true, he didn’t have days off. He knew what people, what Steve, what people in the Avengers considered a day off. It was a day when all worries were gone and they could do what they loved without the stress and weight of daily life. Bucky didn’t have days off. His demons followed him, shackled to his ankle, not allowing him to forget, to sleep. He merely had days in which he wasn’t bothered by work, not that it bothered him. In all honesty, he’d rather be working, at least he could avoid his mind, run from it. He doesn’t need his consciousness when he’s working. Y/N didn’t know how to reply to his answer, there was bitter sweetness attached to it, a bitter sweetness she was unsure he wanted to share and as such she decided to change the subject.

- I should sweep the floor. - she scratched the back of her neck, readying herself to grab a vroom but Bucky stopped her.

- You should sit down before you get hurt. - he suggested, pulling one of the kitchen’s highchairs so she could sit. - I can clean that up for you.

- Are you trying to get hired as a housemaid, Bucky? - Y/N joked, little child-like smile gracing her lips as Bucky held the vroom in both hands. Even him couldn’t help but smile at her joke.

- If you keep throwing jars, I think you might just need one. – he pushed the glass onto the the dustpan, opening the bin and throwing it all inside.

- How do you know I threw it?

- The pattern of glass on the ground was consistent with it. - he shrugged. - Were you trying to defend yourself?

- Sort of. - she sighed, looking at the bandages on her hands. - I will spare you the story.

- Might help if you don’t.

Y/N felt ridiculous. Here she was upset over an industry she had willingly entered when a man who had his life stolen away from him was sitting next to her. You’re ridiculous, she told herself. He didn’t have a choice, he didn’t get to choose but she got to choose moving to NY, joining this industry. Just because the yellow brick road didn’t lead somewhere doesn’t mean it was any less her choice. He was forced to kill people against his will, you just need to lose weight, she told herself once again.

- It’s silly. - she smiled the worried look in her face away. - I just miss home. This apartment doesn’t really feel like home, everything here was bought for me. I didn’t get to pick my cutlery even.

- Then decorate it the way you want.

- I can’t do that.

- What’s stopping you? - he furrowed his brow at her and Y/N opened her mouth to say something before closing it again. - It’s your apartment, Y/N.

- What do you suggest? Going to IKEA and buy stuff that I already have?

- Okay. - Bucky got up from his seat walking over to her cupboard. Y/N watched curiously as he opened the cupboard and grabbed one of her mugs before throwing it to the ground, breaking it into million pieces. - Look at that, you need a new mug.

She smiled at him, jumping over from where she was standing. Walking over to him, Y/N reached into her cupboard, grabbing a stack of plates before walking over to her window. Unceremoniously, she opened the window and let the plates fall of her 5th floor onto the ground, watching as they all broke into a million pieces onto the sidewalk. Bucky followed through with whatever contents she had left in her porcelain and soon enough, the two of them had thrown glasses, bowls, cups and jars of flowers off the window, forming a pile of shattered glass.

- Thank you, Bucky. - she smiled at the shatters of the ground floor before looking up to him.

- It’s no problem.

- No, this definitely wasn’t part of your contract. - Bucky watched as the late afternoon wind blew her hair ever so slightly, goosebumps on her skin from the change of temperature. There was this weird sensation, a sensation only the Winter Soldier had felt and Bucky couldn’t remember, one that was the same yet a foil of the one he used to feel. He couldn’t really explain what it felt, he could just feel it. - Could you not tell Ms. Olson I messaged you?

- Whatever happens between me and you isn’t broadcast to anyone else. My loyalty lies with the person I was contracted to protect.

- Thank you. - she pushed the window down closed. - Do you wanna get dinner? It’s on me.

- I think you need to get dinner we just broke all of your plates.

Bucky and Y/N went to a small burger joint near her apartment. Y/N adored it, it reminded her of home, it reminded her of when she came back from the pub with her friends and went to whatever was opened to get chips with melted mozzarella on top. Even the scent of it brought her back home and while she had never experienced the drunk taste of chips with melted cheese, she surely enjoyed eating them at unholy hours of the evening.

- Why would you put cheese on fries? - Bucky questioned as the employee handed her two cartoons of chips with cheese. - You put ketchup on fries.

- Don’t knock it until you try it.

- I’m too old to try new things.

- Oh, I noticed. Only old people whine that much.

The two of them sat down in a red booth, picks in hands as they ate the chips which Bucky found weirdly satisfying. Sure, he wasn’t gonna tell her that but she was right, it was an godly satisfying favour. Mid meal he looked up at Y/N, she had a little mindless smile on her face as she ate her fries, hair slightly in front of her eyes. It was rather ironic, one caged bird staring at another caged bird but here’s the thing about cages: they don’t last very long.

taglist: @disasterbii @lookiamtrying @buckysteveloki-me @nsfwsebbie @americasass81 @jamesbarnesappreciationclub @lostinthebeans @mariahthelioness29 @buckyandsebastian @peaches-roses-sins @theadorasabditory @sipsteacasually @tonystankschild @saiyanprincessswanie @booktease21 @noiralei @learisa @everythingisoverrated @uglipotata72829 @naturalthrone22 @husherstan @mandiiblanche @vicmc624 @newyorkgoddess @itsallyscorner @chipilerendi @emzd34 @writerwrites

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firefliesintheskyline · 4 years ago

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A Poem In Flowers

PAIRING : Nicky x Joe

PROMPT : Flower Shop AU

(now on ao3 !)

“Oh-oh, he’s gonna pay for that!”

“Booker, we can’t just barge in, we don’t even know how—“

“He stole them from you! Isn’t it clear enough?”

Nicky frowned, listening to the loud voices coming from outside. It was usually a quiet neighborhood, especially at that time of the day.

“Let’s just go inside!"

He was startled when someone opened the door of his flower shop with more strength than needed.

“Booker, can you please calm down a little? You’re going to scare him.”

Nicky looked at the guy who had just spoken, feeling more intrigued than afraid. The fact that the newcomer was also incredibly handsome was definitely a plus.

“Mr. Di Genova, I believe?,” the other man said, in a pissed and totally unfriendly way. Nicky took an instant dislike to him.

“Yes, it’s me. Are you here for a bridal bouquet?"

Not-nice jerk was caught off guard by his question, while cute-dude just chuckled. Of course, Nicky couldn’t help but find it extremely endearing.

“No, we… Okay, let’s start this properly. Nile, my assistant, came here a couple of days ago to pick up a bouquet for my wife.” If Nicky didn’t like this 'Booker' guy before, things only got worse after the last sentence. He appreciated the fact that Very Handsome Man (well, wasn’t his crush escalating quickly) seemed to give his friend a very nasty look at that. “There was a little card attached to the bouquet, a card that contained a short poem.”

Nicky nodded briefly.

“Yes, that’s my customers' favorite part of the bouquet and the very reason why they keep buying here.”

He felt a wave of pride while saying those words. After all, It had been his idea when he had first opened the shop, and he wasn’t going to take lessons from some uneducated asshole just because the guy couldn’t stand poetry.

Extremely Attractive Man (yep, that was it, no going back) gave him a contemplative look, almost as if he was trying to make sense of… something.

“Well, isn’t that nice? Stealing someone else's art and then using it to make a profit?,” rude-dude retorted.

Nicky felt his blood run cold. He didn’t like the tone nor what was being implied, and he was starting to get extremely pissed.

“Look, I’m sorry for Sebastien here, he can be very nasty when he wants.” Nicky noticed that Unbelievably Hot Guy had also Incredibly Nice Lips and Absolutely Gorgeous Eyes, and he was almost starting to forget why he was pissed in the first place, while oh-so-not staring at him. “We just read the card and found it very similar to… well, one of my poems. And since it wasn’t signed, I just wanted to understand what was going on, find out if maybe someone was taking credit that wasn’t theirs?”

The revelation had Nicky almost drop his jaw. He knew he should focus on the accusation, but all he could do was stare at the guy who was apparently responsible for keeping Nicky up more nights than he could remember, thinking about the brilliant mind behind those perfect words.

“I actually bought them," was all that came out of Nicky’s mouth.

He realized that maybe he should have added more when the two friends shared a look, seeming rather confused.

“I haven’t published any of them, yet.”

“No, I mean… they were in a jar. I bought the jar.”

For a couple of minutes, there was only silence in the shop. Poet Guy - who was still very hot and still without a damn name to go with his face - opened his mouth a couple of times, but didn’t seem to know what to say, until his eyes widened. Nicky was pretty sure he’d had some sort of epiphany, and he wasn’t the only who had noticed.

“Joe? Joe, are you okay? What is he talking about?”

Joe - Nicky was secretly beaming, he'd finally gotten the name of the man who would haunt all his future dreams - looked very close to an existential crisis.

“Do you remember during college, when I used to live with Andy?” Sebastien nodded, but Nicky was too concentrated on Joe to even notice. “Well, there was this big red jar on the table, in the middle of the living room. Whenever I was struggling with a short poem, instead of throwing the paper away, I would just fold it and put it in the jar.”

Well, if those were Joe’s definition of failed poems, Nicky couldn’t wait to find some way or another to date this guy just so he could read the good ones.

“When she moved in with Quynh, she took the jar with her. I didn’t even realize at first, and after a while I sort of forgot about it. I also didn’t really care because I was sure she’d keep it, since she took it in the first place.” Joe seemed lost, and looked at Nicky as if he was the only one who could make sense of it all.

“If it helps, I can tell you that I bought it from a woman, long hair, mischievous smile, who said she was glad her wife was away for a while so she had time to get rid of the - and I quote - “atrocious bloody colored vase”?” Nicky finished the sentence with a sheepish smile, feeling himself blushing all of sudden.

“I don’t know what I was expecting, but this was definitely not it.” Sebastian shook his head and looked at Joe. “I don’t even think we can force him to stop, since technically he did buy the jar."

“I will definitely stop if Joe is uncomfortable with it.” Nicky raised his voice, slightly insulted by the insinuation. “I would never try to harm or profit from someone else’s work. Especially if that someone is an amazingly talented poet."

Joe was staring at him, looking entranced.

“But you said it yourself, this is what makes your customers coming back. I wouldn’t want to be the one to do the damage to you.”

Nicky was so going to marry this guy. On the spot. Damn it, he would even accept the obnoxious dude as the best man if he had to.

“Maybe we can work out a good compromise?” Nicky’s voice softened, almost as if he was about to share a secret. “I could still put the cards in the bouquet, but with your signature underneath each poem. And I’d give you a percentage over it, of course.”

“I, uh,” Joe’s cheeks were turning a lovely shade of red, and Nicky was torn between feeling pride in being the one who was actually responsible for that and wanting to melt at the sight of it, “what can I say, you do make it sound like a win-win situation. But, as I was saying before, those aren’t exactly poems I feel very confident about.”

“So why not write some new ones to go along with my bouquet?” Nicky knew, deep down, that he was pushing his luck, but he'd found that he really didn’t care that much, especially if he could find a way to get Joe to come back to his shop.

“Oh my God, I’m done. I’m not gonna stand here any longer watching the two of you shamelessly flirt like teenagers.” Sebastien threw his hands up in the air and started walking towards the door, turning around only to yell at Joe, “if you get laid tonight, remember to send me a 'thank you' note!"

“Once again, I really, really do apologize for him. He can be unbelievably crass, but he’s a good friend.” For the first time since he'd entered the shop, Joe gave Nicky a full-on smile, all teeth and dimples. And that’s when Nicky realized, once and for all, that he was utterly fucked.

“No problem,” Nicky let out in a croaked voice, finding it rather difficult to put together a coherent though, “I hope you’ll consider my offer.”

“I most definitely will.” Joe ran his fingers through his hair, looking almost embarrassed. “Maybe we could talk about it over a cup of coffee? I know a place nearby.”

And that’s how they ended up in the coffee shop owned by Quynh, who was absolutely delighted when they told her the whole story and didn’t even try to apologize to Joe, since she had just given him “the single most exciting meet cute of his entire existence”.

(Two years later, at their wedding, Booker and Quynh were still arguing over which one of them was responsible for such a lucky encounter. Nicky secretly spent his days thanking them both).

#the old guard #tog #nicky x joe #joe x nicky #yusuf x nicolo #nicolo x yusuf #yusuf al kaysani #nicolo di genova #booker #sebastien le livre #quynh #flower shop au #meet cute #first meeting #the old guard au #immortal husbands #kaysanova

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yurimother · 5 years ago

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Interview: Shilin Huang, Creator of Amongst Us and Carciphona

Shilin Huang ( @okolnir )is a Canadian freelance artist and comic creator, known for her long-running series Carciphona. She has a Bachelor of Music in Performance from the University of Western Ontario. Carciphona is a long-form fantasy story set in a world where demon-magic is forbidden. The series follows a young sorceress named Veloce, and the mythical assassin assigned to kill her, Blackbird.

Shilin’s newest book, Amongst Us, based on the webcomic of the same name, is an alternate universe comic that reimagines Veloce and Blackbird as musicians and girlfriends in the modern world. You can support the physical release for Amongst Us book 1 on Kickstarter today.

The first book of Amongst Us is coming soon. How do you feel about the release?

Eager and relieved!! I had worked for so long to make the web format viable for print format, as well doing all the extra drawings that were necessary--like covers--that I had to keep under wraps, it felt great to know that that part is finally done and I can release my child into the wild. I was very worried too before the launch of the Kickstarter, because though I am the one who made this story, I am not quite a slice-of-life type of person myself, and it was hard for me to see value in this mundane, not-plot-driven kind of story as a printed book. But I was very lucky to have that worry dispelled!

What drew you towards creating comics and artwork? Was it a dream of yours?

I’ve been drawing since before elementary school because I enjoyed it, and somewhere along the way, I wanted to create my own characters, and then I wanted stories for them. It was always just me doing what I felt like doing, more so than something that I aspired towards achieving consciously. If I had to analyze the allure myself, maybe it was because people and the world are so interesting, I’ve always loved thinking about their nature and circumstances, and art/storytelling was the best way for me to explore and share those thoughts.

Could you briefly walk us through your creative process for making a page of Carciphona or an episode of Amongst Us?

Carciphona is a long, plot-driven story, and so the scale of preparation required before the page eclipses the actual drawing of the page itself. [A] small moment has some larger impact in the plot, character development, and accuracy of world-building. So I usually spend about half a year or more writing out an entire volume, read it over many times over the course of the years, before I do the same thing with sketching the entire volume on the computer, rearranging pages and panels and entire scenes for best delivery, before I finally commit to drawing out each page in detail on the computer.

Where Carciphona is like an elaborate set course where I chop up and measure ingredients and time their cooking with a careful game plan so everything can be served as they should, Amongst Us is more like an omelette that I’m making to taste. There is still planning and writing ahead of time, but each episode is much more self-contained, and I do more of the planning of the episode within the episode itself, adding and taking away details as I see fit before I feel like it reads naturally enough for me to fine line, colour, and paint.

You talk about being a self-taught artist, how did you learn to create artwork? What are some of your favorite educational resources?

While I did come across many tutorials, they were mostly short ones here and there made by my peers, so I don’t have any favourites in my mind that I can share ): . I learned by just looking at the art of my peers at the time and drawing a lot myself, thinking about what I could learn from each time I see something great, and what I could try next time to make the next drawing look better to me. When I had just started drawing digitally, the internet was quite new, drawing tablets expensive and uncommon, with no social media to share art or find resources. Over time, I did try to learn more properly by doing studies and seeking out professional tutorials, but I found that I hated it and decided that I’d rather learn and make mistakes at my own pace and be happy than to commit to effective and efficient learning and make myself dislike drawing.

Amongst Us is, of course, an Alternate Universe comic featuring characters from Carciphona. What inspired you to put your characters into a GL slice of life work?

Back in 2006, when I started drawing Carciphona, I had no plans of this frenemies dynamic for the two main characters, Blackbird and Veloce, and when the thought had occurred to me as I continue to tweak the story, canon GL relationships were still rare and rarely accepted. I was even told on many occasions by readers that they hope the two do not end up with some couples dynamic, or they will no longer be interested in the story. Ultimately, Carciphona was a fantasy story about an entire world, and I wasn’t going to risk the story’s reception over a small detail like whether or not Blackbird and Veloce sleep together, so I just played with the ideas of their relationship on the side, in paintings of many different AUs. Eventually, all that did was make me become so attached to the idea that I decided to say, screw it, I need someplace where they could be together, and I’m drawing an AU for real.

Where do you draw inspiration from for your work? Both Amongst Us and Carciphona.

I love a lot of things, feelings, aesthetics, and I eat up all of that and take it back out in the form of my stories. The inspiration is everywhere, from beautiful imagery I witness in pictures and in real life, to [the] lives of people that I hear about or experience firsthand, to the ethics and structures of professions from mechanics to medicine… In feelings, knowledge, and perspective, there’s an infinite amount of things that makes me think, and that thinking is what creates AU and Carciphona, whether or not that line of inspiration can be clearly drawn back to the root of the thought.

What are some of your biggest challenges or fears creating Amongst Us? Was there any realization or advice that helped you overcome those difficulties?

My biggest fear is always in relatability because it’s a difference between me and the reader that I do not and cannot have a solution for because it involves another person. In such a relatable genre as slice of life/comedy/romance, where the readers have more experience and therefore more varied but stronger expectations of a version of life that is relatable to them, I know that even if somehow I become a master writer, I still would not be able [to] say whether I could story that others would get or would be interested in, especially because I am aware I am an oddball when it comes to how I think, how I live, and what I value. What helped me the most was simply seeing that there were readers who did enjoy the stories for what it was, and reminding myself that I’m telling the stories to find those who might enjoy it, not to avoid those who might not. It’s a different perspective, rather than a solution, so the worry constantly resurfaces, but I hope it becomes easier over time as I am proven wrong more often!

Amongst Us readers have gotten to see Veloce and Blackbird as an established couple, and now we are witnessing flashbacks to how they first met. Where do you hope to take the series in the future?

I intend to tell both of these timelines concurrently, so as the couple timeline ended at episode 20, I intend to end the flashback at around episode 40, and then switch again at episode 60, and so on. While this kills the momentum for each arc, I made AU so that I can have the cake and eat it too--I want both their back story and a happy ending at the same time without having to wait 10-20 years for it, like I do with Carciphona’s plot haha!

What is one dream or aspiration you would like to accomplish? Even if it is unrealistic.

My only dream right now is just to finish both Carciphona and AU before my time’s up! Funny how unrealistic is specified, it made me realize that I rarely consider unrealistic dreams/aspirations as worth thinking about as they are unlikely to happen when there are so many other things I want to do that are actually possible. Most of my unrealistic dreams actually revolve around music, a profession I had left behind with an aching heart. I dream to play a concerto with an orchestra someday, or even learn to conduct, but for now, drawing my dreams out feels enjoyable and fulfilling enough a compromise!

What advice do you have for people wanting to create artwork and comics?

The true challenge these days I feel like is rarely in the work itself; there are so many readily available free resources that anyone who is capable of working hard and thinking critically will sooner or later be able to master skills they acquire to some degree. What is truly challenging is finding, and then accepting, what paths work for you. Someone might find great joy in working in a studio with a group on something big, while someone else might only enjoy drawing what they feel. Both, in this current climate, will be compelled to adhere to the standards of drawing what others want to see in order to gain recognition and financial stability, one will thrive, one will not.

I think the most important thing to keep in mind is understanding what you want out of drawing/creating, and why. Understanding yourself is often not as straight-forward as it may seem, everyone has different circumstances that subtly motivates them to sometimes misdirect energy and misinterpret what it is they truly want. Some people need to be understood, some people want an excuse to execute, and some people want fame, money, recognition, validation. Whatever it is, and all valid, understanding and accepting your own motivations to create can tremendously help you find the path forward that is suitable for you, not anyone else, even if it might mean following an impractical path that no one else recommends.

Finally, after the release of the first Amongst Us book, what is next for you? Anything special your fans can look forward to?

My game plan through the decades has always been to just keep going. I did choose long-form projects such as the comics that I draw, and the best thing I can do is to just keep it up and reach those exciting points of the story that I’ve always worked towards, no matter how uneventful that may make my work routine sound. However, I do have a little side thing with a(nother) recurring theme that I’ve been doing here and there for fun whenever I had time, people who keep up with my social media art posts may have noticed. If I ever accumulate enough material, maybe there will be some bonus snacks for my readers on the horizon!

Read Carciphona and Amongst Us online now and be sure to support the physical release on Amongst Us book 1 on Kickstarter today. Also, be sure to follow Shilin on Twitter @Okolnir.

#yuri #news #essay #lgbt #lgbtq #lgbtq+#queer #gay #shilin #girls love #gl #wlw #essays #interview #art #artist #comics #indie #carciphona #amongst us

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yikesharringrove · 3 years ago

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Show Pony

Chapter 4: Summertime

Read on ao3

“See and this is my girl Patsy. She’s the smallest of the three, but she’s strong as all get out.”

Steve gestured to the horse, brushing his hand down her long nose. She was a beautiful dark brown, her coat sleek and obviously well-kept. Steve said he washed and brushed his horses each night, keeping them free of flies and dirt.

Steve’s three horses were together in the little paddock, grazing on the sparse grass. There was a large oil drum filled with water in the paddock for them, and a trough filled with hay and horse feed.

Steve had brought a bag with them out to the paddock, and he whistled through his teeth, all three horses gathering around him at the fence. June used her nose to bump Steve on the side of the head.

He smiled at her, one a’ those real sunshiney ones he had, and kissed her between the eyes.

He dug through the bag, pulling out a few apples, a pocket knife, and a Tupperware container filled with various pills.

Billy simply watched as he cut one of the apples in half, digging out small pockets in the meat of the apple and meticulously inserting the pills. He repeated the exact same procedure with the other half of the apple and offered the first half to June.

She crunched it happily, the second half of the apple going to Loretta, a beautiful dappled horse with a dark-colored nose.

Each horse got three apple halves with the correct combination of pills.

“They each get supplements twice a day. We get the hay locally every place we stop, and depending on where the hay is grown, it can lack nutrition they need. Plus, traveling horses can get digestive problems from working hard and not having a lot of grazing opportunities. I wanna keep my girls healthy, you know?”

Loretta had wandered away after Steve set the bag on the ground, huffing as she realized apple time was over. June stayed with Steve, softly knocking her nose into his head and shoulder, making Steve laugh brightly and pet her neck.

Patsy stayed in front of Billy, and he felt like she could see into his fucking soul. Her brown eyes were huge as she appraised him, almost as if she was trying to suss out if he was good enough for her Steve.

“You can pet her, if you like. All my girls have been raised with us since they were foals, so they’re real touchy. Loretta pretends she’s too cool for it.” Loretta, as if hearing Steve say her name, gave another huff from the other side of the paddock. “Yeah! I’m talkin’ ‘bout you, Letty. We all know you’re a softy!” Steve grinned at Billy after calling out towards her, like they were sharing a joke.

Billy couldn’t stop the corners of his mouth from pulling up.

He smiled a lot around Steve.

He looked back towards Patsy and mimicked the way Steve pet June, keeping his hands gentle and soft as he brushed down the length of her nose.

Her hair was so soft, and she felt like warm velvet underneath his hand.

“I’ve never been this close to a horse before,” Billy said softly, not taking his eyes off Patsy and the way his hands brushed down her strong neck.

“I love horses. Always have.” Steve had wrapped his arms around June’s thick neck, his cheek smushed to her as he looked at Billy. It was cute. Everything Steve did was cute. “Not to sound like a horse girl in a Lifetime movie, but they’re just so great. Sometimes it seems like they know everything.”

“Yeah, they’re real human.” Billy thinks it was all in the eyes. The huge, deep brown eyes.

Billy had really come to appreciate brown eyes in the last two weeks.

“June was born when I was nearly six. I’ve been riding her since I was seven or so. There weren’t a lot of kids around so she was kinda my best friend. Which. Sounds totally lame.” Steve’s cheeks went pink, and he hugged June tighter.

“How long have you had the others?”

“I’ve had Patsy for seven years. Loretta’s the newest. I just started training her for the event last summer, although I’ve had her for a while. Horses are considered fully grown when they’re five, so we don’t make them do events before then. It can be bad for their backs if you start riding them too young.” Steve absentmindedly stroked down June’s neck. “I try to keep my girls healthy and safe. If you really take care of them, they can live to be about forty, although they shouldn’t do rodeo events past fifteen-ish.”

Billy did quick math in his head.

“So, what do you think you’ll do with June when she retires?”

Steve looked out past June over to Loretta when she was trotting about the paddock.

“I always kinda had this dream. Like when I get tired of all this, of opening a ranch for old rodeo horses. Ones that are too old or sick to do events. I would take care of them and give them good food and exercise and stuff so they could have a happy retirement. Some rodeo horses are sold to people for, like, personal riding use, but they’re event trained, and usually aren’t great for, like, leisure riding, and people get mad. So, yeah. Retirement village for horses.” He buried his face into June’s neck, and Billy could see the tips of his ears were flaming in embarrassment.

“I think that’s sweet.” He really did. “Hell, you said a well taken care of horse can live for twenty years past retirement, might as well treat ‘em right.”

Steve pulled his face out of June’s neck and beamed at Billy.

Billy’s hand trembled slightly and stuttered over Patsy’s neck.

“I take each girl out for some exercise every day, you wanna help me? We can just walk ‘em.” He looked so hopeful, like all he really wanted was for Billy to hang out with his horses for the rest of the day.

And lucky for him, Billy had already called out of work for the evening, and didn’t tell his dad about it.

“Let’s do it.”

Billy stood back as Steve got June ready, smoothly slipping a halter over her face, attaching a soft rope lead to the ring on the left side of her nose.

He opened the paddock, raising one hand towards Patsy to keep her where she stood while he gently led June out, wrapping the rope lead once around his hand and holding it tightly.

Billy walked next to Steve, June on Steve’s other side as they began making their way to the edge of the fairgrounds, passing the large spread of campers and R.V.s.

The fairground was out in the boonies, outside of the San Diego city limits, and there was a significant amount of sprawling flatlands and hills, covered in emerald grass.

June trotted happily along, tossing her head and bumping into Steve’s shoulder, making him giggle and throw Billy gleeful looks at her behavior.

“Tell me something,” Steve said as they began moving downhill, guiding June on a long walk around the area.

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. Something about you. Something I don’t know.”

Billy cast around in his brain.

There’s a lot Steve didn’t know about him.

And for good reason, too.

He didn’t want Steve to know about that shit.

About the way his father hates him for no other reason than who he is.

The way his mother only calls him twice a year and posts on Facebook every other day about her new husband and their twin toddlers and their perfect life in Oregon.

“When I was, like, eight or nine, I watched Almost Famous, and I just fucking loved everything about it. It made me wanna be in a band so bad. I mean, they’re like a family, all going on tour. It’s so idyllic to me. That’s, like, my retirement horse dream. Make it in a band. We don’t gotta be that famous, or anything, just, like, make it .”

Steve gave him one of those soft smiles of his, and slipped his hand so naturally into Billy’s.

“I’ve never seen that movie.”

Billy gasped dramatically, swinging their hands between them.

“Oh, Stevie, we gotta see it. I don’t even care, I’m gonna make you fuckin’ love it. You’re just like Penny Lane, actually. Kind of a wanderer. Free spirit.”

Steve’s eyes were bright, and they looked gold in the late afternoon sun.

“Is that your favorite movie? Almost Famous ?”

“Yeah. Probably.” It definitely was, but he could let himself geek out over it later. He’s resolved to make Steve watch it with him, and he could be a little lame nerd kid over it then. “What’s your favorite movie? And if you say Black Beauty, I’m running away from you.”

Steve looked at him sheepishly.

“It’s not Black Beauty, but, I mean, it’s Spirit.”

“That animated one?” Billy thinks he’s seen it once or twice when he was a kid. He remembers his dad calling it propaganda.

“Yeah. I mean, I just thought it was really beautifully done. It’s kinda hypocritical, since it’s about, like, freedom and stuff, and a rodeo is totally the opposite of that, but. I don’t know. I just like it.”

“We’ll watch that one, too, then. Favorite movie double feature.”

“I would like that,” Steve said softly, taking his gaze from Billy back over to June. Steve never made much eye contact, and constantly dragged his sight somewhere else when he was embarrassed.

“Maybe I could come to your place. Hang out with you.”

Billy’s whole body went cold.

It was like the temperature had dropped forty degrees, freezing and shattering the perfect warm bubble around them. Like the soft winds stopped making the grass and sparse trees whisper in its wake. Like Billy was trapped in a freezing block of his own panic.

“No.”

Steve stopped in his tracks, and Billy clutched his hand to stop him from slipping it out of his grip.

“Sorry, I, that was really rude.” He stared at June’s front left hoof. “My dad. He doesn’t like. He hates that I. He’s a homophobe. If I-if he even thought that you, that we were, he would-”

“Hey, Bill, it’s okay. I’m, I understand.” Steve pulled their hands up to press them against his chest, brushing his thumb over Billy’s hand. “You don’t have to explain, if you don’t want. I’m sorry for suggesting it.”

“You didn’t know,” Billy said gruffly.

“And I’m not upset. Promise.”

Billy chanced a look up at Steve’s face.

He was giving him a tiny smile, his chin tilted slightly down to give Billy the most sincere look he could possibly manage with those big earnest horse eyes of his.

Billy leaned forward, pressing the softest of little kisses to that tiny smile. It was the only way he could think to let Steve know he was alright. No hard feelings.

They kept walking June mostly in silence, bringing her on a big loop of the lush field.

“My dad doesn’t really like that I’m bi,” Steve spoke unprompted, but it was clear he meant it as a response to their last conversation. “He told me when I came out to him that I’m just young and trying to be rebellious and acting out sexually and I’ll settle down with a nice girl once I’ve gotten it out of my system. I got so mad. I was fourteen. I once heard him and my mom talking about therapy. Like, you know. Therapy .”

Conversion therapy.

Fuck.

“Did they ever go through with it?”

“Nah. My mom told him that was fucked up and that whatever’s going on with me will work itself out. Now we just don’t talk about it.”

“She kinda had your back, that’s pretty cool.”

Billy told his mom he liked guys about two months before she left. She just told him not to tell his dad.

“Yeah. Ignoring it is better than the alternative, I guess.”

Billy chewed on the inside of his cheek.

They were still holding hands, despite their palms getting sweaty from being pressed together in this heat.

It was kinda gross.

Billy never wanted to let go.

“I never even told my dad. He’s so clear about his feelings about. Stuff like that. He’s ex-military, and all that comes with it. Super conservative. Religious conservative, even. So he’s pretty much against everything.”

“So, that’s why you wanna move out so soon? Not to pry, or whatever.”

“Yeah. It sucks having to hide fundamental pieces of who you are from your family. The people that are supposed to love you, but instead tell you to change your shirt before you leave the house because you look like a queer.”

He left out the parts about the backhand slap and the much more aggressive wording that actually spelled out that interaction a few days ago.

Billy had left his house feeling all kindsa cut up and pissed off and fucked Steve as hard as he could on the small table in the airstream, making the whole trailer shake and creak, just barely covering the sounds of Steve’s moans and cries.

It was a good way to work out all that rage.

There was something nice about stickin’ it to his dad by stickin’ it in Steve.

They began the climb up the slight hill back to the paddock.

“I’m sorry, Bill. I know I don’t get it, but I’m just. I’m sorry.”

“Me too.”

He wasn’t sorry for his father’s behavior.

He was sorry for how his father has shaped him.

How sometimes he was selfish and angry and closed-off.

How he could get mean and snarl and attack before asking questions.

But most of all, he was sorry that he was scared.

Too scared to follow Steve to the ends of the Earth, like he was absolutely fuckin’ dying to. To live in these perfect few weeks together forever.

Too scared to let go of their time together. So terrified that when their moments are finished, he’ll miss this happiness and peace so much he’ll wither into nothing.

So terrified that this is the last time he’ll ever feel like this. Feel like there’s something good and worthwhile and beautiful inside of him.

So terrified that the rage will eat away at that beautiful thing until there’s nothing left.

Steve pulled his hands out of Billy’s when they reached the paddock, and he gave Billy a gentle smile, his eyes catching the sun in a way that made every warm summer afternoon wiggle its way into Billy’s heart. The cascade of fearful thoughts stopped in Billy’s brain, and he let himself watch as Steve pet June softly, removing her halter when she was safely in the paddock once again.

Steve placed a different one on Loretta, bringing her out of the paddock next.

Loretta kept them walking a little faster, kicking her hooves up and making Billy laugh in the way she seemed to prance through the grass.

She took off in a gallop, Steve jogging along next to her, the lead wrapped once around his hand again, and Billy could hear his laughter on the summer air.

Loretta was full of energy, whinnying and braying all the time as she and Steve looped around the soft grasses.

Billy cut up the hill, moving closer towards the fairgrounds and taking a seat on the ground. He crossed his legs in front of him, leaning to rest his elbows on his thighs, propping his chin up with his hand.

The grass was impossibly soft underneath him, and Steve was smiling so wide, pretending to swing dance with Loretta, using the lead as if it was the arm of his partner, spinning himself underneath it.

There was a fat bumblebee buzzing around near Billy’s knee, landing on the tiny wildflowers sprinkled in the grass, wiggling itself in the pollen.

It was fucking.

Idyllic.

Like something from one a’ those horse girl movies Steve no doubt loved more than anything.

The sun was moving slowly through the sky.

He could just barely hear the announcer’s voice, echoing from the speakers in the event arena.

And he wished, for some time, that this was his life. Traveling with Steve. Spending warm summer days sitting in the grass while Steve exercised his beloved horses. Nothing weighing on him but what they should do for dinner that night. Whether or not Max and her little rodeo friend Elle needed some extra cash for food.

He let himself flop back in the grass, spreading his arms and legs out and watching the clouds roll by, sparse as they were.

He hates to say it. He really does. But this is the happiest he thinks he’s ever been.

Which is just. Sad. And dangerous. And not what he needs in this time-stamped little fling with someone he barely knows, despite how much he feels like their souls may be connected, or other shit the old poetry books stashed under his bed might wax and wane about.

He tried to memorize everything about this moment. How Steve squinted in the bright light, the corners of his eyes crinkling just like they did when he smiled. The way the sun warmed his skin, almost as much as Steve’s touch warmed him up.

Everything about these two weeks has been so perfect, it’s genuinely heartbreaking.

All Billy wants is to cling onto Steve, and cling onto the month for-fucking-ever.

He barely noticed the sound of hooves approaching him, and he grinned at Steve when he dropped to his knees next to Billy’s chest, his face tinged red, his brow slightly sweaty.

Loretta leaned her head down to sniff at Billy’s forehead, and Billy made Steve laugh when he went cross-eyed to watch her dark nose twitch.

His laugh made something inside Billy keel over and die.

Time is ticking down on how long he’ll get to hear that perfect sound. That lovely music of Steve’s happiness.

“You ready for Patsy?”

Loretta bumped Billy once on the head and moved to graze some of the grass next to Steve’s hip.

“Yeah,” he said.

He meant I’ll miss this too much when it’s gone.

#steve is a HORSE GIRL #i CANNOT stress this enough #anyway i highly recommend reading on ao3 because i said some stuff in the author's note but idk you don't have to if you don't want #show pony #yikes writes #rodeo au #steve harrington #billy hargrove #harringrove #anyway the more i write this fic the angstier it's getting whoops

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quidfree · 3 years ago

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can you Please write the scene with bakugou's piercing SGDHEFEH the concept is too funny to me !!!

anon you’re lucky 報復性熬夜 is a concept i am firmly attached to so here i am at 1 am rattling this off instead of getting my beauty sleep. please excuse the standard of writing as a result

by the second day, katsuki is seriously considering agreeing to todoroki’s earlier and ambiguously sincere proposal that they play i spy.

he doesn’t know what it is about this particular job that’s so unbearable. no, scratch that- of course he knows what’s unbearable; it’s sat right next to him on a too-small chair in their too-small room staring impassively out of a too-small window. but he’s been thrown into so much shit with icyhot you’d think he’d developed some kind of immunity by now, the way vaccines microdose you on viruses so you can resist the real thing. call katsuki an antivaxxer, he guesses, because he has overdosed on todoroki ever since he met the asshole and he’s still not ready for how far up the wall he’s driving him when they’re stuck together for two straight days without a breather or any contact with the outside world.

cards on the table: stake-outs aren’t his thing. he does them just fine, fuck you very much, but he doesn’t like ‘em. why would he? they’re some ungodly blend of extremely boring and extremely tense, where nothing happens right up until way too long into it and then everything goes to shit unprompted. it’s rare he ever gets called in on jobs like this- people tend to assume he lacks the temperament for it, for one, and for another he’s too useful to lock away for days on end. it’s only because their suspected target is so insanely volatile and dangerous that it’s the two of them waiting for her to show her ugly face- no one else is even allowed in the perimeter. which is fucking fine, but he just wishes the cops would get their shit together for once and actually have the proof ready by the time they call the pros in so he doesn’t have to wait before he goes in guns blazing. instead they talked some bullshit about how critical of a stage this was and blah blah fifteen years of (obviously mediocre) work had gone into setting this trap, etc etc. the point is that it’s led to katsuki stuck in the world’s most disgusting little apartment, staring out of a splintered window for two-going-on-three days with no one but the world’s most annoying prodigy to keep him company. the place is such a dump they’re sleeping on mats in sleeping bags. it’s like fucking UA summer camp, and at this point he’d take the kidnapping over the waiting.

day one wasn’t so bad, right up until he realized there would be a day two. day two is bad from start to finish. they’re supposed to take turns on watch but there’s fuck all else to do except sit on their phones, and katsuki can only quote tweet so much dumb shit before he gets bored. he can’t talk to anyone outside because of confidentiality bullshit, and there’s no point checking work shit when he can’t do anything from where they are. so it’s either silently watching the warehouse or talking to todoroki, and todoroki is a fucking terrible conversationalist.

the thing with icyhot is this: katsuki doesn’t hate him, okay. like, he hates him, but also not really. they’re, at a push, maybe, sort of, friends. verging on close ones. not that he’d say so, but after the amount of dramatic self-sacrifices and final stands against a joint enemy they’ve endured he can’t really muster the energy to argue otherwise. todoroki’s tolerable, sort of maybe. usually katsuki borderline likes working with him, because if nothing else he’s good at what he does, and they know each other too well to be anything but in sync in the field. if they were doing almost anything else he’d be relieved at the choice of pairing.

they are not, however, doing anything else, and todoroki still fucking sucks at talking like a normal person. when he’d woken katsuki up for his shift of night-watch he’d loomed over him ominously like a fucking ghoul and said, voice belying no humor: “do you think plants can feel pain?”

there’s fucking nothing to talk about. anything interesting is essentially vetoed because it’d inevitably distract them from the whole intent observation thing, and katsuki hates small talk on a normal day but especially when todoroki’s doing his ‘alien attempting earth dialect’ bit and asking him about weather or the tokyo transportation system or whatever. so they just sit in semi-silence and occasionally go on very stupid tangents katsuki is glad no one can witness and remain overall bored out of their fucking skulls.

by day three they’ve already exhausted i spy and also the alphabet game and hangman, and katsuki draws the line at tic-tac-toe. todoroki looks implacable as always but his eye has started twitching a little. katsuki tries to think of literally anything that could plausibly take up their time and not take their eyes off the window, comes up short. twister is not a good idea even ignoring their lack of a board. shop talk is so very tempting, but he’s not losing this villain and wasting two days’ suffering because they get carried away on some long-winded discussion, so that’s not an option either.

“how’s your ear?” todoroki says, and at first katsuki thinks he’s really fucking lost it if he’s started asking after the wellbeing of his individual body parts, but then he remembers the last time they saw each other katsuki was throwing himself into the path of some jackass with a trumpeting quirk who nearly blew out his eardrum, so he guesses half ‘n half’s not entirely insane yet. he shrugs, shifts in his chair.

“fine. couldn’t hear shit from it for like three straight days, though. and my balance was fucked.”

“it hasn’t scarred at all.”

“yeah. lame place for a scar,” katsuki says, flexing his fingers absently. they’re all of them more roughed up than they were at UA, but talent and good healers have kept him mostly intact, give or take a few big nasties like the time he got gutted in first year or his near loss of an eye around graduation. privately he suspects genetics have dealt him a good hand, what with his gene donor’s perfect skin, but then todoroki doesn’t have that excuse and he’s not scarred anywhere ugly except the obvious, though katsuki could point blind to most of the nasties he’s accumulated under his suit.

not that he thinks about what’s under todoroki’s suit. god, he needs to get out of here.

“i don’t know,” todoroki is saying now, thoughtful. “a lot of people have ear-scars, no? from piercings.”

“that’s different,” katsuki says, immediately contrarian, even as he thinks about it. by the warehouse a truck stalls, but then moves on, lessening his momentary excitement. “most people don’t let that shit heal. unless you’re a moron there’s no point getting a hole jabbed through your ear if you’re not sure you want it.”

“would you?” todoroki asks, mildly curious, and taps his ear where katsuki can see him in the window’s reflection. “get a piercing, i mean.”

“what’s it to you?”

todoroki rolls his eyes at him like he’s being pointlessly difficult, which he maybe is a little. “i don’t know. i think it would suit you.”

“yeah?” katsuki sniffs, mollified and trying not to show it. it’s always a mistake to let icyhot know when his obvious ploys are working. “been thinking about it?”

“i can hardly sleep at night for thinking about it,” todoroki deadpans, which makes katsuki scowl and stomp down on the extremely unwarranted flush crawling up his neck in response.

“fuck off. i guess i’d do like one or two.”

“really? you always say no to tattoos.”

“that’s different. i don’t trust some asshole to draw a fucking infinity sign on my knee or whatever. sticking a hole through an ear is hard to fuck up, and you barely register it after. if you get a shitty tattoo you have to think about it all the time.”

“if it’s easy then why don’t you have any?” todoroki asks, but he sounds genuinely curious more than like he’s trying to catch him out, so katsuki thinks about it honestly.

“don’t have the time. ‘s not like i can really afford to pencil in an afternoon to the nearest parlor or whatever just for that.”

“i read you can pierce your ears with a needle.”

“i guess i haven’t fucking thought about it that much, then,” katsuki grumbles, forever irked by todoroki’s smart mouth. problem solver his ass. the guy goes around making problems for everyone.

they sit in silence for a beat, watching the breeze rattle the wooden planks barricading a window opposite them, and then he thinks needle, and does some very quick mental arithmetics to reach the conclusion that todoroki is probably also landing on, judging by the way he blinks when katsuki briefly glances his way.

he thinks about the job, and how close he’d come to throttling todoroki during i spy, and the great dawning nothingness ahead of them for fuck knows how long still. at the very worst, they have to start moving with a needle in his ear.

“pass me your medikit.”

todoroki does, but when katsuki unzips the pack he shifts. “it’d be easier if i did it.”

“it’s not rocket science,” katsuki mutters, considering the needle critically before glancing back out of the window. “'s not like i give a shit about precise location.”

“i’m just saying i wouldn’t have to go in blind. and you can keep watch while i do it.”

“or you can keep watch while i do. same shit.”

todoroki only shakes his head, because unlike some people who shall not be named he is not so incredibly psychosexually attached to offering help where it isn’t wanted. “fine.”

katsuki eyes the window, squints at his ear. tissue’s the best bet- he thinks he could probably manage cartilage fine, but on the off chance they have to drop everything and run he doesn’t want to accidentally snap a bone and start the fight inconvenienced. lobe it is.

“wait,” todoroki says, just when he’s focused, and then reaches over without removing his gaze from the window to press two fingers to the needle, tip going blisteringly red-hot before he releases it. cauterised. their kit’s sterilised anyway, but katsuki grunts his begrudging thanks, repositions himself.

“wait,” todoroki says again, and this time katsuki can’t help but turn to glare at him where he’s still watchfully staring outside.

“fucking what, icyhot?”

“two seconds,” todoroki promises, gaze flickering his way for half a second with something like self-effacing amusement before he turns his eyes dutifully away and reaches his other arm around to pinch his ear, which flares cold so quickly katsuki hisses even as his cheeks heat. fucking weirdo.

“could’ve just said,” he mutters, ignoring his not at all jumpy pulse to refocus on the task at hand as todoroki does that obnoxious lip-twitch thing that means he’s smiling internally.

physics dictates that he keep his wrist at an angle if he wants the needle to come out right, so he does, braces and jabs. it goes so easy he almost doubts his own success, not even the slightest twinge of pain ensuing. he twists for good measure, removes the needle, watches tiny beads of blood emerge from the piercing.

well, that was anticlimactic, katsuki thinks, retrieving an anti-bacterial wipe for the needle, and then pauses, staring at the window.

“motherfucker.”

“what?”

“what the fuck am i supposed to put through this?”

todoroki’s mismatched eyes go gratifyingly wide in the window, and for one spectacularly braindead moment two of the world’s most outstanding pro-heroes stare at one another in a shitty broken window with equal amounts of retroactive dismay.

“um,” todoroki says, or as close to ‘um’ as todoroki will ever say. katsuki wishes dearly he was still of an age where he could throw him through a wall. then his eyes focus elsewhere, sharpening with what could pass as professional focus but is mostly naked relief. “um.”

um in-fucking-deed. by the warehouse, a door has just opened a sliver.

“you owe me a fucking earring,” katsuki declares, but so fast it lacks any aggression, already halfway out the window by the time he finishes speaking, atrophied limbs reviving with an ecstatic chemical burn as fresh air hits their faces.

god. if he ever gets stuck on stake-out duty again he’s sleeping by himself under a parked car or some shit.

they make disgustingly quick work of the fight, in the end, days of pent-up frustration and skull-numbing boredom leaving them so bursting with power that it’s almost embarrassing for the villain, but when the first kow-towing police officer reaches them full of praise and suggestion that they handle another job he has queued up they chorus a ‘no’ so violent the guy actually jumps.

todoroki’s not so bad, katsuki thinks fondly, watching his face slide into frigid blankness with absolutely no idea of how shitless he’s scaring the officers around them. it’s almost enough to make him forget to kick his ass for the enormously shitty banter he’d had to endure vis-a-vis his still-bleeding ear throughout the entire tragically short fight.

almost. not quite. who even knew there was a ‘gay ear’?

#qui parle #qui ecrit #anon #todobaku #bnha #tdbk

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