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problematicfavesareproblematic · 3 years

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I Wish I Could Leave This Alone (I Know How Much You Want Me To)

Babe Heffron x Reader (plus guest) One Shot

Summary: Babe’s birthday gift to you has an unexpected party crasher

Warnings: smut, angst, infidelity (?), reader overthinking while getting dicked down, I wrote this and immediately posted it so it will be edited at some point

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Babe’s kiss was soft, but his touch was not.

You couldn’t help the groan that escaped from the back of your throat as one of his hands gripped tightly at your hip, and when he smiled against your lips you couldn’t help but feel like you’d had done something to amuse him.

“What?” you pant, leaning back at the waist to break the kiss and frowning at his smirk.

He chuckled warmly as he walked you backward towards your bed, the hand at your hip finding its way under your shirt and up against your sternum.

“Where’d you go, Gorgeous?” he asked playfully, and you immediately felt guilty.

He was right, you’d gone somewhere else for a while. That wasn’t fair to him, and you knew that. And while he was quick to call you out on it, he never seemed to truly take offense to it. You weren't sure what that said about him. Or you, for that matter.

You shake your head and bring your hands to the hem of his t-shirt, lightly tracing your nails across the sensitive skin of his lower stomach. “Started getting a bit ahead of myself, that’s all.”

Pressing a kiss to the hinge of his jaw, you use your position to slide your hand down the front of his trousers and cup him through his boxers.

“You forgot to breathe,” he mumbles, his voice slow and distracted. “Can’t have you blacking out and embarrassing yourself like that—Woah.”

A smile of your own breaking across your face, you nose at him until he brings his mouth to yours again, making a show of inhaling sharply as the backs of your knees hit the bed.

“Good note,” you say breathily as you pull his shirt up his back, giggling idiotically as he intentionally gives you a hard time of it. Your shirt doesn’t last long either, and with a practiced ease, you have each other stripped and bare in the blueish darkness of your barrack.

He isn’t gentle when his hands grip your bare skin, his movements excited and rough as he settles against the headboard and pulls you up to straddle his lap.

“I remembered, by the way.”

Taking his face in your hands, you hold him away to study him, confusion marring your constantly furrowed brow. “Remembered…?”

His eyes are aglow in the dark, so amber and warm that they reminded you of the spiced ciders your family would make during the holidays back home. A wicked smile crosses his face, and he chuckles quietly.

“I told you what knowing my middle name would cost you when you asked me last month, and the information I wanted in return. And I told you I wouldn’t forget…”

The cogs clicked in your head, and you made a sound of upset when you figured out what he was talking about.

Detail for detail, that’s the deal, Sweetcheeks.

“Happy Birthday, Sargent Y/N.” He waggled his eyebrows, and you booed him quietly.

“What are the odds a blowjob will make you forget about it?” you ask with a wince, gasping when he playfully rolled his hips up to meet yours. Feeling how hard he was made your blood begin to run hotter.

“Hmm,” he hummed, leaning forward to suck a kiss on the delicate skin beneath your collarbone. “Somewhere between none and slim.”

With an annoyed hum, you lean your head forward to rest atop his head and let him mouth at you, your hand coming up to pull at his hair only when you knew he was intentionally trying to leave a mark.

“And do you remember what I said I wanted to give you for your birthday?”

Feeling the blood rush to your cheeks, you realized that you could only sit in hot embarrassment as he laughed at you again.

“Such a prim and proper lady, scandalized by the idea of riding my face—”

“Edward!” you hissed, hands that once held his face now pushing it away. “Don’t say it like that, come on—”

The auburn-haired man laughed, catching your wrists and pulling you into his chest. you grunted with frustration, your face now pressed against the hollow of his throat.

“It’s not like my mouth hasn’t been down there before, you know.”

Sighing, you let yourself sag into him slightly, trying not to lose yourself in his lighthearted tone.

“Yeah, but not like that, when I’m just…you know.”

“Oh I see, you like it better when I do all the work and you get to take the princess position, huh?”

“Jesus Christ, Babe” you sit up again with a huff, attempting to pull your wrists back from his unyielding grip. “I try to be serious for one fucking second….”

Rolling his eyes, he surges up and kisses you sweetly, and for a minute you feel yourself begin to slip out of your body again.

But he brings you back. He always brings you back to him and here and now.

“C’mon, Sweet Thing…” he croons shamelessly against your lips, rough hands releasing your wrists and sliding teasingly up and down your thighs. The touch has you trembling in his lap, and he’s kissing you before you can be too embarrassed. “If you hate it, I’ll stop and you can fucking edge me until I blackout, I swear to god. You gotta let me see you like this, Y/N. Please, Gorgeous…?”

Good GOD he was shameless, literally begging you to allow him the chance to make you feel good, to show you how good he can make you feel- how much he wanted to be the one to do it to you first.

Anticipation was knotted in your throat as you smashed your lips to his, a flutter of heady resolve resting in your belly. As if he could taste what you were thinking, he wrapped his arms around you and hummed against your mouth.

“God, you’re so perfect...” he pulled you into him, rolling his hips in a way that seemed to remind you of the urgency you both had felt before.

When he pulls back this time he’s grinning at you like a complete idiot, happier than any man should be at the prospect of cunnilingus, in your opinion.

But Edward Heffron was nothing if not enthusiastic in his pursuits.

“Hands on the windowsill,” he said breathlessly, his cheeks turning pink and making you want to kiss him again. When you didn’t follow his request quickly enough he guided your hands there himself and folded your fingers around the frame of the open window.

You quirked an eyebrow at him. “Do I want to know how long you’ve been thinking about this, or will I be insulted?”

He smacks your thigh lightly, drawing a surprised yelp from your lungs that melts into a hum of amusement as he kneads the reddening flesh.

“How about we err on the side of caution and say….. just within the past few months?”

“And you held me in the highest regard before that- right, Private?”

He says nothing for a moment, and when he does agree to your proposed question he mumbles it into the valley between your breasts.

“Hmph. You’re a terrible liar. This had better be worth it.”

Seemingly satisfied with your ability to keep your hands where he set them, Babe encourages you to rise up to your knees so you’re no longer flush in his lap. Immediately, his eyes flick down to your sex, and you cannot help the way your thighs start to shake

He says something under his breath that you can’t quite catch before he looks back at your face and his expression softens for a second.

“Remember what I said earlier? I mean it, you know I mean it—”

You’re nodding before he can finish the sentiment, letting a soft smile play at the corners of your kiss-swollen lips. “You’ll be the first to know if I want to stop. Promise.”

With one more biting kiss to the middle of your chest he brings his assault downwards with hands, lips, and teeth- his touch just the right amount of hard and teasing to send your head swimming long before you finally feel his breath on the overly-sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

“Oh fuck,” he sounds far away, but maybe that’s just because you’re feeling too big for your own body at the moment. “Could die happy here…”

God, he’s such a whore.

The first touch of his tongue has you pitching yourself forward, eyes squeezed shut as you let your face poke out the window enough to feel the breeze on your clammy face.

Shit, he was good at that- it felt so good. If you didn't have your own goddamn skeletons in your proverbial closet you may have even been jealous to think of all the other women who had been privy to this most spectacular consideration. Babe was kissing you down there just as sweetly as he had ever kissed your lips, and it made you briefly wonder if anyone else from your past could have made you feel as high as he was making you feel right now.

Bowing your head to look down at him, your breath catching at the sight of him looking up at you from between your thighs, his arms folded around your hips to control the small jumps you couldn’t seem to get a handle on.

“Fuck, Babe!” you bite out, the idea of him looking up your body and watching you squirm threatening to overwhelm you. “Can’t fucking do that, ‘s gross angle for me…”

“Oh?” he said, the sound and feeling of his voice running up your body in the most sinful way. “I beg to differ...”

Knowing that watching him watch you would ultimately be too much, you shake your head to clear your thoughts and lift your head to look back out the window into the night air.

Only to come face to face with Ronald Speirs.

A sound of surprise, shock, embarrassment, and panic got caught in your throat alongside your cresting moan and resulted in the most depraved cry that seemed to surprise all three of you.

Your blood boiled as it froze in your veins as you made eye contact with Speirs, mortification and utter shock leaving your mouth hanging open in a silent shriek of horror.

You had no idea how long the other man had been standing there, but if the look in his eyes was any indication it had been long enough to know exactly what was happening on the other side of the wall, just below the window frame. A cigarette hung forgotten between his lips as he openly stared at you, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed silently.

When Babe’s hand came up to squeeze your breast enticingly, you nearly jumped out the window.

Oh my God This can’t be happening right now I have to stop him Oh fucking hell….

Your head whipped down and he looked up at you with heavy-lidded eyes, mouth red and damp as he panted wickedly up at you. “You okay, Gorgeous?”

A crushing realization fell onto you in that very moment: there was no way you could tell him what was happening- who was there watching your shared private moment outside. Because that would mean that you’d have to explain that Ron always did this, that every night he would smoke near wherever you were sleeping that night and keep watch like a possessive and protective shadow.

And the only way you could explain that was by telling Babe about what you and Ron had once had- no, almost had. He rejected you, you reminded yourself harshly. He made his stance on you abundantly clear when he’d had you transferred into Easy Company. The fact that Speirs still behaved as if he was somehow responsible for you was not your problem.

Besides, you had Babe. You wanted Babe. Even if the ache in your heart tried to tell you differently.

You made your peace with Ron Speirs’ rejection a long time ago.

Not trusting your voice, you nod vehemently and hope what is happening outside isn’t clearly written on your face.

A smug grin stretches across his face. “Good, ‘cause you taste better than I imagined…..”

You curse as he pulls you back down to his mouth, your head flashing back up to see that Ron has gotten rid of his cigarette and shucked off his heavy coat and gun. His dark eyes look downright predatory, and if you had any sense in your sex-dumb head you would stop this debauchery and transfer somewhere far away from the both of them.

You open your mouth to do something, anything to save yourself some dignity in this fucking exhibitionist nightmare, but Speirs’s finger flies up to his lips, the command clear even through the darkness.

You knew this would happen eventually something in his gaze seemed to accuse. Did you really believe you could forget who you’re wishing was beneath you?

But as you watch him tilt his head, something else is conveyed: he’s asking for permission.

He didn’t intend to leave. He wanted to watch.

But he would, if you wanted him to.

It was cruel of him, and something in the way he worked his jaw told you that he knew it too, but like you he was too far gone to stop it.

You both know better, each of you having your own reasons for not wanting to inevitably hurt the other and cross that line. Your own sick, backwards ways of self-protection and showing affection for the other seemed to be twisting and becoming more complex as time went on.

The more involved you became with Babe….Ron suddenly wanted to be your friend again just after you had first slept with Babe.

You immediately understood that you and Ron were nearing your final days of dancing around each other, that you would have to be the one to stop it. Because Edward Heffron was too good and too kind to be fucked with like this. Eventually, you would have to stop being so selfish.

In a final show of weakness, you nod silently to Ron, your breath coming in quick bursts as your lover has patiently worked you up and up to the crest of your crescendo, none the wiser to the wicked thoughts and realizations spinning around in your head.

I really am a monster.

But you couldn’t focus on that right now, not as Ron stalked right up to the window with such confidence that you thought you had gravely misread the situation and he was going to announce himself to Babe.

You had just begun to make a hush of protest when his cold hands gripped yours and he knelt down so he was nose to nose with you, his hot glare turning it into another embarrassing sound of pleasure.

“Shit!” You whimpered, your body trembling more violently as the coil in your belly began to constrict. Ron’s thumbs rubbed the back of your knuckles in a soothing motion as he made a sound of pity low in his throat, the clucking of his tongue quiet enough that it disappeared in the sounds of the forest surrounding them.

When you get a better look at his face you can see his look of empathy is almost mocking, and you briefly wonder if you would ever have sex with someone who didn’t like to antagonize you the whole time.

As you try to pull your hands out from under his, he shakes his head sternly before wrestling them into his grip, the action pulling you slightly further out the window and making you gasp.

Babe chuckles and grips your ass to control the speed in which your hips rocked, a nibble on your clit nearly making you scream.

You’re a terrible person. You’re the worst kind of woman. you hate yourself for this.

Ron’s brows furrow and his face goes soft, eyes a warm burn rather than a vengeful inferno. You don’t realize you have begun crying until he brushes the tears from your cheeks with quick fingers.

You press your forehead against his as your body bows in warning, your orgasm approaching with unforgiving intensity.

Ron doesn’t kiss you and you don’t kiss him. You never had and after this long, you don't think you ever will. You hate how much you wished you could though.

Especially with another man’s tongue working you into a frenzy at the same fucking time.

“Please, I want you...” you said pathetically, and Ron had the grace to look down in shame. Guilty fingers intertwined with yours and with a sad grimace he kissed the backs of your hands.

“I know you do, I’m so sorry,” he breathes across your knuckles, tongue darting out to wet the chilling skin where he kissed, kissing your hand as he had wished to kiss your mouth each and every day since he had met you.

But you couldn’t, he couldn’t. And he wouldn’t let you ever try.

You came with a silent cry, only the whispered reminder from both of the men you loved to breathe saved you from falling apart in the most critical moment.

Because you are cruel you take one hand from Ron, the one he wasn’t kissing, and pull it back.

Babe’s overgrown hair is soft and damp as you reach down to rake your fingers through it, quickly finding his hand on your hip and clinging to his fingers with painful desperation as you quake above him.

Pulling you impossibly close to his mouth, Babe holds you as you tremble through the last of your pleasure, suckling once, twice more before noisily pulling away from you.

The sound was so lewd even Ron had to close his eyes and grit his teeth in order to stay quiet.

your hair clung to your face, and after sliding his fingers from yours Ron brushes the sweaty strands around your hairline.

As you begin to catch your breath, you remember who you are, who all you’re with, and all that’s brought each of you to this point. You remember that Ron Speirs has to go, will always have to go.

He didn’t want you to be his, wasn’t interested in sharing his barracks or you asking him about his past or remembering your birthday. You didn’t matter, none of this did.

All that mattered to him was the fight. The big picture. “We’re all already dead. Why bother acting like this is anything other than a distraction?”

“Y/N,” Babe’s gentle kisses land on your hips and you realize that the time for your decision is coming sooner than she had anticipated. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

You take a few more shuddering breaths with Ron, and from the way he tightened his jaw you knew he knew that you were going to have to let one of them go. And, because he’s just as selfish as you are, he doesn’t want you to choose Babe.

He’d rather keep you like a lark he can turn to for reassurance and comfort. Like a bird in a cage.

With a final sniffle, you look down, away from Ron, and give all of your attention to the beautiful, sex-mussed man who was looking up at you so sweetly and with such a clear desire for approval that you almost started crying all over again.

Ron lets you slip your fingers from his and takes a silent step back as you return your attention to your lover. You let him disappear into the night.

“Nothing at all, Babe,” you reassure him with a sigh, moving shakily down his body so you can kiss him as deeply as you can, sealing your body to his as you hold his face between your hands. “I just forgot where I was for a second there.”

Nipping at your bottom lip, he waits until you pull back before smiling stupidly at you.

“That good, huh?”

Shaking your head, you scoff and flick his chest. As he starts to chuckle, you roll yourself off of him enough to scratch your nails lightly across his stomach.

“I’ll give you a full review after round two, how about that?” You smirk as his eyebrows shoot up, sitting up and swinging your leg over his hips to straddle him. “But right now, how about I reward the idiot I love for remembering my birthday?”

If he’s surprised by your sudden proclamation of affection, he makes no show of it. And somehow that makes the moment all the sweeter.

~ ~

(HELLO SO SORRY FOR THE LATE FIC I LOVE YALL COVID IS A BITCH! I’M CURRENTLY WORKING ON THREE FICS SO HOPEFULLY THEY WILL FOLLOW SHORTLY! OKAY BYE BYE MY GORGEOUS GEODUCKS!)

taglist: @mrseasycompany @itswormtrain @mrsalwayswrite @happyveday @sunsetmando @ricksmorty @now-im-a-belieber @tvserie-s-world

#band of brothers imagines #band of brothers x reader #babe heffron x reader #ron speirs x reader #babe heffron imagines #ron speirs imagines #problematicfavesareproblematic

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soupbabe · 3 years

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hi i had seen you did the crusaders with a chubby s/o but i was wondering if you can do one with the duwang gang and a chubby s/o? please and thank you king!

Part 4 characters w a Chubby! S/O

Did I extend this to more than the Duwang Gang? Yea. Why? Because everyone in jjba would love and spoil a chubby S/O. Araki told me himself it's canon

Josuke Higashikata

He really isn't one to focus on looks in a relationship

The first thing he would love about you would be your personality, it's just a plus that you have a nice body !!

Literally you are so perfect to him omg he can't help but to smile like an idiot when you're around

On the weekends/during summer break when you're not in your school uniform and just a pair of shorts and a tank top he just melts omg

You look so good!! He's respectful with it and not roaming his eyes everywhere, but that won't stop his blushing when he sees your plush form walking over to him

He loves your thick thighs so much

Perfect pillows for when he's having a rough day

When spending time together he will do anything he can just so he can lay down on your thighs

Sometimes when you both are getting ready to go to bed he does it and lets you comb your fingers through his hair

Okuyasu Nijimura

I do headcanon Okuyasu as a bit chubby so in my mind he has no room to judge

Not that he would in the first place

First time he saw you he (not so subtlety) whispered to Josuke that he thought you were hot

He would want to hug you so much and be all over you

You're just really soft to him and like?? It's heaven

Dates to Tonio's is a must

You're a growing y/n he has to treat you right

Please don't be insecure about eating in front of him, he's literally the best at making an atmosphere more comfortable

His favorite part of you might be your chubby cheeks

He enjoys squishing them from time to time, lovingly calling them your "chipmunk cheeks"

Koichi Hirose

A lot of characters in this aren't the shallow type and Koichi is no exception!

You're just so nice and caring towards him it just makes his heart go fast around you

Absolutely loves holding your chubby hands they're just so soft to him and so comforting

Same with hugs he loves getting hugs from you

Yea it leaves him a blushing mess but it's so worth it

He loves laying on your big tummy so much

He could easily fall asleep, face buried in the soft flesh

Probably the best sleep he got, would recommend sleeping on a chubby y/n again

Rohan adores chubby bodies

Rohan Kishibe

Loves giving you designer clothes

Plus if you're more confident in yourself, it makes him like 3x more attractive omg

You look so pretty/handsome/whatever you prefer when the clothes he bought you bring out your favorite parts of your body and your curves

He loves drawing you so much

He calls you his muse a lot

If you're ever having one of those bad days where your body doesn't just "look right" to you, Rohan would simply tell you that you're very attractive and that there's nothing to worry about

Later on he would show you all of his drawings of you, capturing your beauty like no other

Hell, he could take a tiny insecurity like a double chin and make it look like the prettiest thing to exist in his artwork

He loves your stretch marks so much

When you two have the down time to just do nothing but be lazy in bed, he loves tracing them in silence

Yoshikage Kira

This man doesn't care what you look like

You only got his attention when your hands touch when he dropped something and you went to give it back to him

Yes, he usually went for slim, more feminine hands, but yours was just so soft and he thought your chubby little fingers were the cutest

Although you weren't a Mona Lisa, he still was a changed man

It was then when he saw the rest of you and thought that you were stunning

He checked his watch, mentally cursed himself for running late to work

He gave you a business card with his number on it and asked you out to lunch as a thank you

He loves having lunch with you

You two holding hands while you both talked about your day was the highlight of his

He loves giving you rings and watches, he thinks it just makes your hands shine through and he says that you deserve to be pampered

That being said he absolutely loves your hands

How his slender and somewhat bony fingers perfectly fit with your pudgy ones makes him smile

Yukako Yamagishi

Oh you're perfect to her!

So soft, you're like her personal teddy bear!

It's surprising if your self esteem hasn't risen even a little bit once you're with her

She loves complementing you so much

Will steal your clothes

And guess what.

She's another character I headcanon as plus size so you both are going to be stealing each others clothes

Best home cooked meals wow

Will make sure you get everything you need and aren't skipping meals

She would be so scary if she finds out that you aren't taking care of yourself

She cannot choose her favorite part of you

You ask her and she will say all of the above

Toshikazu Hazamada

He doesn't get out much tbh

I'll be honest anime/manga has definitely risen his expectations when it comes to appearance for a s/o

Gotta wait til he gets humbled shorter if you ever want to be with him

By then he should get it through his head that not everyone is going to have the flat stomach or big muscles as anime might have him believe

I feel like after that he might be open to collecting more diverse anime figurines, including the cute chubby anime mascots you can find online

When you said that you had feelings for him he grew so flustered that he actually accepted

It doesn't matter what you really look like to him anymore, if you like him he would like you back

Please let him sit in your lap and let him hug you

Would constantly suggest you to cosplay a character from his figurine collection

He wants his anime fav come to life you would make him so happy

Something just tells me that he would really like flabby arms tbh

The feeling of your squishy arms around him when you two hug makes his heart go so fast and his face so red

Loves cuddling up and laying his head on your arms

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fandomficsnstuff · 3 years

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Healer - Part 10

Ivar x Modern!Reader

(Warnings: (Y/H/T) is Your Hometown, also Ivar is being a concerned drama queen)

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You watched Rollo with intrigue, eyes slightly narrowed as you watched him, Ivar’s hand on your thigh, as it usually was, while they were talking. The older man glanced at you finally after stating his one condition for helping, that Björn was spared, his eyes taking in every detail of you before looking back at Ivar “who is this?” he asked, gesturing to you and Ivar smirked pridefully, straightening his posture and looking at you with so much love and adoration “my wife. She and I will marry when we have taken back Kattegat” Ivar informed, looking back at Rollo who nodded, giving you a polite smile “welcome to the family, may I ask where you are from?” he asked and without thinking you answered “I was born in (Y/H/T) but I lived in Chicago for a while before I got here” you said, only realising afterwards that he had no idea about anything, where you were from, how you got here, which you honestly wasn’t quite clear on either, and how long you had been here. Rollo looked at you confused and you cleared your throat “it’s, uh… complicated” you added, Rollo nodding hesitantly before looking back to Ivar.

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You frowned as you stared at your food, Hilda noticing and kneeling down by your side on the tree stump. You were back where you were not that long ago, only it was a different location, the same people protecting you. Ivar had predicted the length of this battle to be longer than before, therefore making sure you had water and food with you so you wouldn’t grow hungry or thirsty, the thought sweet and heartwarming but right now you just felt sick. You hated when Ivar went on without you, even when he sailed to England with his father for the first time, you hated how he was away from you even then. You hated being left behind for every battle, when they took York, when they first battled Lagertha, and now again. You felt as though the food in front of you was unappetizing, even though it was far from it, the water in the leather sac having no appealing qualities either. Hilda sighed and sat on the ground beside you, watching you for a bit longer as you battled internally, trying to force yourself to eat it as you felt your stomach growl. Eventually you ended up putting it back in the small bag you had with you, Hilda sighing at the act “you do not like the food?” she asked and you shrugged “I do but-... I don’t know… I don’t like how Ivar is in danger, out fighting while I just sit here” you admitted, Hilda giving you a soft smile in sympathy, gently rubbing your upper arm in an attempt to comfort you.

You picked up the leather sac that had water in it, debating if you should try, Hilda giving you a reassuring nod, making you try and take a sip of the water. You forced it down, not feeling any of the sickness fading, quite the opposite, actually. You frowned, handing the water hurriedly to Hilda, accidentally spilling some on her before you turned away, your knees hitting the wet ground as you emptied your stomach into the ground, Hilda holding your hair back with a worried frown as you threw up, gently rubbing your back in comfort. You winced at the taste left in your mouth, Hilda helping you to sit on the stump again, handing you the water to try and clear the taste from your mouth. You noticed how worried she looked and once you had cleared your throat with water you spat it out to the side, groaning at the remaining taste in your mouth “I’m okay. Just nervous, I think” you said, Hilda nodding with a suspicious look in her eyes.

You could still hear the battle sounds, swords hitting swords, screams and yelling, it made you feel as though you were going to throw up again.

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You nervously bounced your leg as the sounds of battle had faded, your hand mindlessly rubbing the tattoo on your wrist nervously, sort of wishing it was one of those bracelets where if you touch it, the other person with the same bracelet feels it vibrate, letting them know that you are thinking of them. You heard horse hooves and shouts, followed by clear sounds of wheels, your eyes wide as you got up, Hilda by your side as Ivar came into view on his chariot. Without thinking you ran to him, getting up in the chariot and hugging him, ignoring the blood that covered him as one of his arms wrapped around you, holding you tightly against him for as long as you needed. You parted from him and kissed him, ignoring the copper you tasted on his lips, you knew it wasn’t his, he wasn’t hurt. You parted from the kiss, kissing his sweat covered cheek that had small splatters of blood on them, hugging him tightly again “you’re okay” you whispered, mostly to yourself, Ivar giving a small nod in affirmation, about to say something when his eyes caught the worried eyes of Hilda. Hilda gestured to your vomit on the forest ground while you were still hugging him, causing Ivar to frown worried, fear instantly taking hold of him, were you sick?

“Let’s go home” you said with a big smile, Ivar nodding as he forced a confident smirk, but he continued to think about how tired you looked, what if you were sick? No, you were a healer, you’d know it if you were… right? Ivar didn’t have any more time to think of it as you sat down on the floor of the chariot, smiling up at him and leaning your head back, eyes closing as Ivar drove towards Kattegat with you by his side.

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You smiled as you got out of the chariot, watching Ivar smirk at you, sitting still, just watching you, until Hvitserk approached, holding a woman by her arm. She looked disheveled and paranoid, her eyes all over, scanning everyone but Ivar and Hvitserk. You frowned and glanced at Ivar who seemed to tense at her presence, anger clear in his eyes as you approached him, standing by the front of the chariot and reaching up, gently touching his arm, bringing him back to reality, to you, his gaze softening as he looked at you. You gave him a soft smile “who is she?” you asked quietly, Ivar’s gaze glancing to the woman and then back at you, jaw clenched “Margrethe” he said through gritted teeth and instantly your smile faded, your eyes going back to the woman Hvitserk were still holding onto. You bit your lower lip in thought and walked over to Hvitserk “I’d like to talk to her, bring her to the Great Hall?” you asked, Hvitserk nodding “I’ll be there soon” you called after Hvitserk and walked back to Ivar with a sweet smile, Ivar looking at you confused. You smiled softly when you noticed his confusion “I want to know why any woman would be as cruel as she was to you” you explained. Ivar had told you more of Margrethe, how she was the one who told Sigurd and his brothers he couldn’t have sex. How she humiliated him after he was so vulnerable in front of her, it made you furious that a person could be so cruel.

You walked into the Great Hall, nodding at Hvitserk who left you alone with Margrethe, her eyes downcast as she nervously looked around, she seemed sort of twitchy, disoriented, even. You frowned at her “hello, Margrethe” you said, her eyes nervously glancing at you but never making it all the way to your face “y-you’re the one with Ivar” she said and you nodded “yes, we’re going to get married” you explained, Margrethe laughing “why? He cannot please a woman, he is not a real man” she said and you glared at her, jaw clenched as you took a step closer to her “Margrethe… I am a healer, I took an oath to do no harm, to help people, with that being said…” you said and grabbed her by the hair, bringing her closer to you “don’t talk of my husband that way” you warned, Margrethe being scared but forced it away, being as dumb as to taunt you further “he is mad! He tried to kill me!” she snapped with a grin, making you scoff “be glad I won’t” you growled, letting go of her, pushing her away from you with such force that made her fall to the ground with a yelp “if I ever hear you talking of Ivar that way, ever again, I will break my oath for him” you warned, looking up and finding Ivar at the edge of the hall, standing in the doorway with a shocked Hvitserk, but Ivar, Ivar smirked proudly, limping closer, not even sparing Margrethe a glance on his way to you. Ivar’s hand went around your waist as he reached you, pulling you against him and kissing you with a passion that made you moan into his mouth, Ivar’s hand reaching down and giving your ass a firm squeeze before parting from you, smiling softly, lovingly at you before glaring at Margrethe, his mood changing so quickly you’d think he was pregnant and having mood swings due to hormones.

Margrethe crawled slightly back under Ivar’s heavy gaze, clearly scared of him and you scoffed at her, looking back at Ivar “come on, she is not worth it” you whispered, Ivar smirking at you and limping towards the bedroom meant for the rulers, you hot on his heels with a giggle as Ivar held your hand. You cast one last glance over your shoulder at Margrethe as Hvitserk pulled her up by her arm again, dragging her out of the hall with an annoyed expression as she tried to literally seduce him on their way out. You smiled softly at Ivar as he held the door for you, you bowed your head at him with a grin “why thank you, my king” you teased, Ivar scoffing and smirked at you “you’re welcome, my queen” he teased back, earning a quiet laugh from you. Ivar watched you as you looked around, his playful demeanor turning worried and concerned, a frown on his brow as he watched you, it was only when you turned and saw his worried look that you yourself frowned “what is it?” you asked, Ivar limping closer to you, cupping your face in one of his hands, feeling you lean into his touch, making him almost groan out of satisfaction, but his worry for you by far won over his desires. “Are you sick?” he asked flat out, seeing you tilt your head confused at him, prompting him to sigh and look away, eyes downcast before looking back at you “I saw that you had been sick… are you hurt? Are you sick?” he asked frantically and you sighed “no, Ivar. I-... think I was just worried about you, that’s all” you said, trying to make him worry less but he just kept on frowning, his eyes studying you for a few seconds before he grabbed your hand and turned to walk out of the room “we will go to the healer” he said as he pulled you along, not that you resisted to begin with.

“What- Ivar I am a healer” you pointed out and Ivar shrugged “I do not care, we will go to a healer” he declared casually, continuing to drag you along to one of the healers, Katria, who had sailed back with Ubbe when he sailed off while you were taken captive in England. “Ivar, I am not dying” you once again tried to convince him you were fine, though you might as well try to convince a brick wall it can grow wings and fly. Ivar scoffed “how do you know, hm? What about one of those sicknesses you once told me of, cancer? A silent killer, you had called it” he said and you instantly regretted every medical information you had ever told him, your eyes nearly rolling out of your head as Ivar led you to his chariot, driving off the second you held on to him “Ivar, I am just fine” you tried once again, Ivar just straight up ignoring you at this point “Ivar, I am not coughing up blood or-” Ivar just shook his head “maybe not yet” he cut you off, making you groan “it is not cancer, I am not coughing up blood, there’s no blood when I... relieve myself, no lumps in my breasts or any growth that wasn’t there before. I do not feel any pain, except a headache but that is because of this” you tried to reason with him, hearing him sigh annoyed “what if it is something else, hm? What if it is something you ate?” he asked and you sighed “then I know what to do, and it is not something I ate” you tried once again but fuck it, you were already at the cabin at the outskirts of Kattegat. You sighed tiredly as you got off of the chariot, watching Ivar get off as well and limp towards the cabin, fully expecting you to follow, which you of course did.

As you walked inside you sighed again, Ivar glaring at you before turning to a surprised Katria “healer, my wife is dying” he said and you rolled your eyes “I am not dying” you retorded, Ivar scoffing and glaring at you again before looking at a very confused Katria “well, heal her!” he ordered and gestured to you as if Katria was the slowest person in the world and he was in a hurry, poor woman probably just wanted some peace and quiet, and then along comes the biggest drama queen of all, Ivar the Boneless himself. You rolled your eyes again and walked up to Katria “I am definitely not dying” you stated again, glancing at Ivar as you said it before letting Katria lead you to a room to examine you, Ivar following behind, not getting the hint that he should probably stay outside “stay here, Ivar, I will be back shortly” you said with a soft smile and Ivar, puppy eyed and everything, cautiously nodded and sat down on a chair, anxiously watching you disappear behind a wall.

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Tags:

@not-another-viking-fanfic-blog

#Ivar x Reader #Ivar x Modern!Reader #Vikings fic #Healer fics

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mxvladdy · 4 years

Text

Barbatos- True Form

It’s here! Thx for your patience's I hope it’s worth it :<

Last but not least for this series is: Belphegor

Of all the demons you’ve met, he unnerves you the most. Not because of his demeanor or temperament. No, no you genuinely like him and his company. There is just something about him that unnerves you sometimes. He is just so hard to place.

You see- how can I explain this. The brothers are easy to understand’ easy to neatly categorize and compartmentalize in your mind as friend or foe. For as ancient as they are you do share some common traits. Family lineage for one. Traceable origins. It’s familiar, it’s comforting.

Hells, even Diavolo has an origins, a genealogy one could trace. A family made of stone flesh and blue blood. (He’d be happy to tell you about it too- if you have a few eons to waste).

But Barbatos? Barbatos had just always been- here...there? From the context clues you’ve picked up from Lucifer and Diavolo he was older than even the great kings of the past. He even helped raise the crown price. He grew in experience and expanded his talents, but never aged. Did he have kin? A bloodline? Hell did he even bleed? His very existence raises the hackles of your self preservation skills.

If he is older than the old kings is he old then the concept of time itself? Does the idea of time really exist to him at all?

The odd fight or flight feelings he gives you lessen and disappear over time though. He knows he can be quite uncomfortable to the human psychic and evolutionary survival traits instilled in you after hundreds of thousands of years fighting to the top of the food chain.

It took you a bit, but one day you finally warm up enough to ask him about- well him. How he works, and what is relation with the idea of time even is. It was shot in the dark question. He is a notoriously private demon. But for you he will open up a little. Besides it’s not like you could do anything with the information anyway. Just promise to never tell Solomon.

The best he can explain time to a mortal is in an analogy. If time was an object it would best be described as a stream or creek to him. And all the little minnows and guppies trapped in it’s currents were the beings of the three realms. While they are bound by the waters he would be the one standing on the riverbank.

Most of the time he is happy enough to walk alongside the flow. Other times he enjoys simply dipping his feet in and watch it all pass him by seeing what it all does without his intervention.

Others he’ll slip in himself and gauge out new deviations and channels of his own. He loves to see what flourishes in his hand crafted areas without intervention.

He does confide in you however. Despite his age and maturity he can still slip up from time to time. He is not infallible after all. Barbatos’s corporeal existence depends heavily on his emotional state and mental fortitude. If he is not careful he has a tendency to just-get swept up.

One moment he is having a delightful time with you over a fresh pot of tea and the next… You had a lovely funeral. Wait- hmmm no. Honestly, humans can be so gaudy sometimes. He was actually offended on your behalf. The flowers weren’t even freshly cut.

Ah well. Once he is stable he’ll simply dam this stream and kill the flow before this travesty would happen. Now where was he? Ah yes, do you think this blend goes better with Madame Screams or a human bakery?

Truthfully Barbatos doesn’t use his abilities all that often. It gets boring real quick. But sometimes he is tempted. Anything to do with you is a struggle to be exact. Most streams involving you he is happy to let slip by. All the ones of you falling for the brothers, or his highness, even the angel. There are even a few of you falling for Solomon. Those he doesn’t wise to see.

But the streams where you fall for him? The itch to look is overwhelming. Just a peek, a small taste of your favor. What had he done to make you his? Did he have a chance in this timeline? He always loved a good mystery. So he’ll bide his time and wait.

Now naturally there are some other rules to his existence. Being constantly hyper vigilant of himself can get exhausting and he needs to rest. He doesn’t sleep though, not by human standards anyway. You’ve walked in on him “resting” once or twice. He calls it a stasis period. To you he looks like he’s frozen. Stock still and just standing there in his room. His lanky form flickering in and out of focus. After images appear around him, hundreds of different hims there but not.

It’s an absorption stage, or so he explains. All the input from the trillion parts of hims scattered about all sharing like a hive mind their encounters and experiences. This is the one time every version of him is in sync and very vulnerable.

While he can convene with all his scattered parts of him in stasis he still cannot be in the same visible area as them. One of the two would have to yield to the other. The weaker one reabsorbed quite violently. It is a most unpleasant feeling.

After exerting large amounts of energy and not resting it can take him a bit to recover, and it is very noticeable. He lags hard after such instances, literally. The first time you saw him snapping and rubberbanding around the castle gave you a few more grey hairs then was normal for your age. He’s normally smooth movements were now choppy and stiff. It would have been funny if you weren’t so worried for his well being. The only thing to stop him is Diavolo himself having to throw his weight and power around to get him to rest. He hates being reprimanded.

Don’t get me wrong though. He loves serving the royal family. The years spent in the Devildom have been an utterly delightful vacation. The menial labor and tasks keeps his mind anchored in the present and mutes all the other voices of him to a manageable static.

Now when it comes to his form quite frankly even he has forgotten what he originally looks like. He has been in this form for so long he might as well call it his original form. You ask to see it once, beyond curious. If you could see it that was. Was he like Dia? A formless form? A mass of contradicting layers stack one on one on top of each other?

He is hesitant to say the least. He consults with himself on this. Have any of the others come across this yet? If not he promises to look into it for you. He practices with Simone, knowing that aside from Solomon he knows the limits of a human. Once certain he comes to you delighted to share himself with you.

He is so smol small. His form fitting neatly in the palm of your hand. He is warm and pulses like with a faint heartbeat. You can’t really make heads or tails of what his defined form really is though. His tiny form is covered in a glowing haze flicks of distorted images and sounds invade your senses whenever you hold him. But one thing you can sense in some kind of bony nodules and slender legs. Thousands of them all skittering and tickling your flesh, like an obscenely long centipede.

Now that you know of this form he likes to pop up from time to time when he misses you. His favorite spot to appear is in the breast pocket of your uniform. It’s dark and quiet and close to your heart. While he can’t talk in this form, the physical closeness is enough for the both of you.

Mini Fic

“Be honest with me. Which one of me is your favorite?” You flip over onto your pleasantly full stomach. His tea sandwiches and cakes make you feel sleepy. You stretch out with a grunt of happiness enjoying all the little touches that were distinctly Barbatos. The blanket protecting you from the early morning dew smelt of elderflower and juniper. The fleece material was a personal favorite, soft, warm, and perfect. Even the foods had all been your favorites. He had crafted this all with you in mind. Surely you were the favorite. If he would put this much effort into it.

The demon in question hums from his chair. A steaming cup of tea resting lightly on his bottom lip. A perplexing thought. Each one of you was a delight to his many senses, so similar, yet so different at the same time. Like a reflection in a broken mirror. Each one so stunning and vivacious in a way only a human could be. Yet so few even glanced his way. “Does a parent have a treasured child?” He quips back.

Your peal of laughter warms him better than any tea. “Ha! You must be an only child then.” You snort. He matches your smile, pleased that you were pleased.

“Perhaps-” He takes a sip cutting off that train of thought there. He didn’t need to sour a pleasant morning with such melancholy questions. Was he an only child? Surely he at least had a sire. If he had such kin would they have not met by now? He was on every plane of existence that he knew of. Had they missed each other? Slipping past each other like ships in the night.

More likely they would be more like two similar ends of a magnet being forcibly kept away by their molecular structure than merely missed chances. Incapable of existing in the same dimension at the same time.

Ignorant to his inner turmoil you flip back over to your back eyeing the snack tray he refilled. “How much longer now?” He checks his pocket watch then looks out at the carnage below them.

The Battle of Omosu was in full swing. The ancient warriors below oblivious to the strangely dressed human and otherworldly man sitting on top of a neighboring cliffside to observe the preordained outcome. “Any moment- now pay attention.” He chastises you but without any heat. Pocketing his watch he comes to sit beside you on the fleece blanket. You scoot closer, happy to have his naturally warmer body beside you. The heat of which fends off the cold sea breeze. “There, look.” He points to a growing patch of bubbles by one of the enemy ships.

The water turns turbulent, oily green, and black bubbles foaming on top of the surface. “Wow.” It was all you could manage to whisper.

Leviathan enters the fray now, called forth by his pact barer. The great serpent emerges like a ghost from the depths. Invisible to the other mortals you watch fascinated as his massive tail wraps around a boat crushing it as easily as if it were a stick. Another capsizes, getting pushed away by his massive shoulder.

The sailors fall into the choppy water mouths open in silent screams. They would not survive after hitting the water. Levi’s legion waits below, ready to drag them deeper down. Their bodies will be added to the Devildom navy. Something dark and humanoid darts around the remaining boats. From what you remember from class Levi had called forth an umibozu from the nearby depth for this fight. Its bloated grey body jostles the boats knocking more sailors overboard whole. The two of them make fast work of the enemy ships. The human sailors pick off the rest.

“Quite impressive.” Barbatos remarks. “I can see why humans want to make deals all the time. But what a terrible cost, don't you think?”

“What’s going to happen to the pact holder?” You ask.

“Depends on whatever Levi feels like. Mostly his holders are trapped in the depths of his realms. Left to the devices of their victims. But each brother is different.” The air around you both grows thick with your sudden fear. You rub subconsciously where your pact mark rested, eyes blank.

He places a firm hand on your thigh bringing your focus back to him. “Don’t worry. Like I said the choice is up to the demon that holds the pact. I doubt you would be advantageous to the royal navy.” You chuckle weakly, still rubbing at the growing chill climbing up your arm. “Will this be enough for your project?” He removes his hand begrudgingly away from your soft leg. “It is getting late.”

You nod glancing back down to the battle. It was already over-with the great sea beasts and demons in the water, Takeda’s forces didn’t stand a chance. You don’t wait to see Levi’s victory lap. “Yes, thank you for your help.” You accept his help in picking up your books and supplies. “I hope Kinz is happy with this.” You had been having a bit of trouble in your history class with Professor Kinz. Nothing major, you had assured him. But if it continued your ranking within the school would be at risk, and with it your scholarships.

“Any time.” Barbatos moves an elegant hand to the center of your back escorting you away from the edge. A door slowly emerges from within the mist. He grabs the semi-translucent knob and opens it for you. “I know it will be more than satisfactory.”

“Ye?” You adjust your pack’s shoulder strap bracing yourself for the weirdness of time travel. “Think you can give me next week's lotto numbers? I’m asking for a friend.” Your teasing pulls a deep rumble from him. It was all in good fun, but truth be told he came to find that not keeping one of his many eyes on you had the most enjoyable outcomes. You little human ramblings and witty comebacks being one of them. You at least weren’t afraid to joke around him.

“Now, who said I did anything of the sort?” He chuckles. Keeping a firm grip on your forearm he ushers you through the threshold. You clung to him hating the sticky feeling of the space between time. It clung to your skin, thousands of webs grab and pull at your clothes knowing that you were not supposed to be outside of their control. You were envious of the fact that you couldn’t experience it the way Barabatos did. To him, this was nothing more than the feel of a cool shower. The pulls of time merely buffering off of him. Hardly a threat like it was to you.

He sees you off at the gate to the house bowing deeply as you hop up the front stairs waving at him. You had to hurry lest you be late for dinner. Once you had disappeared through the door he melds into the timestream once more emerging in front of your classroom. A week had passed and your paper was due. He was excited to see what you had gotten and just didn’t feel like waiting this time. He could indulge from time to time.

The bell rings and your class files out. They pay him no mind. The prince’s butler was nothing to gawk at. He counts heads. His frown deepens when you do not appear from the lecture hall. Kinz leaves the room last, her heels clacking obnoxiously on the marble. “Oh! Good afternoon Barbatos, are my services needed by the prince?” She smiles showing far too many teeth to be considered polite. Their mutual dislike of each other was a poorly kept secret. But she had a talent that Diavolo needed; for the moment.

He matches her predatory smile. “I was here looking for our esteemed exchange student.” Her smile falters, her hackles raising for a moment before her face goes blank.

“They didn’t show up today.” She flicks her tail dismissively. “You know how pathetic humans are.” She challenges him, locking eyes with him like the fool she was.

“Hmm. I do not share this sentiment, but it is unusual to have them miss class.” All airs of pleasantly evaporate from him. The cold fury of his ire permeates the narrow hallway. Kinz flinches, breaking eye contact with him. Her weak attempt at dominance is gone. “A moment if you will-” His voice brittle and laced with malice. “I shall return for you later.” He bows shallowly and blinks out of existents leaving the woman quaking in the hall.

________________________________________________________________

An insult, a complete violation of the rules set by Diavolo himself. If the celestial council caught wind of such a flagrant disregard for your mental well being- the program would be in jeopardy. Hiding your death had been hard enough. But a room full of demons acting out unsupervised?

Barbatos struggles to control himself. He could feel his grasp on himself waver with each passing second. His very self unraveling at the seams. Your tears fuel his rage.

Kinz stands over you mocking your relentlessness in front of your peers since the brothers were not present in the class. You had been so excited to test your merit on your own, believing that after getting to know the student body you could handle it. Diavolo approved, figuring his name and the program's initiative was enough to protect you- at least on campus. In theory, it seemed like a good idea, you were well liked among the student body. But that same feeling didn’t bleed over to this particular teacher it seems. A grave error on the councils’ part.

Barbatos watches along with the rest of the silent class as Kinz burns your paper at the front of the lecture hall, berating you for “showing off” and “abusing your statues for brownie points”. You leave halfway through the start of class. A trail of salty tears and ashes left behind in your wake.

Such disgustingly uncouth behavior. To a guest of the prince no less. To you.

He arrives inside Diavolo’s office in a blur, filling the empty air by his prince’s side. The younger demon used to the sudden comings and goings of his most trusted ally didn't even look up from his paperwork. “Something the matter? You are getting a little wispy around the edges.” Diavolo asks signing off on a form.

Barbatos inhales deeply focusing on his present self. The unneeded action of breathing, the expanding and contracting of his chest cavity was soothing. Not necessary for him, but nice. Yet another odd quirk he had picked up during his time in the Devildom. “Kinz has been putting the program in jeopardy.” He grinds out once he finally locks himself back in.

“Oh?” Diavolo dips his pen in its ink well. “That is quite unfortunate for her. Do you suggest a council meeting on the matter?” Barbatos bites his cheek.

“I believe her offense far outweighs just a slap on the wrist. I believe her tenure should be revoked. This isn’t her first strike.”

Diavolo chuckles resting back in his chair. He gives his full attention to his butler who was bustling around the room, tiding an already spotless room. “I haven’t seen you this bloodthirsty since those scribes in Alexandria poked at you.”

“I gave them a fair warning. As I have with Kinz.” He bristles. Diavolo waves a hand, willing to listen. “Kinz has taken up public humiliation and verbal abuses since the brothers are not around to interject. You know how she is. This will only accelerate in time if not nipped now.”

“Is that what you see?”

“I don’t need to to know.”

Diavolo sighs deeply, weighing the pros and cons of losing such an asset. He already knew his verdict, as did Barbatos. Even without his powers, they both knew either one of them would bend for you. “Fine.” He returns to his desk of papers. “I will let you do as you please. Just don’t tangle things up too much.”

“Thank you, my lord.”

In a way, it was a pity. Kinz is- well- was one of the Devildom’s more esteemed historians. Her place amongst the upper echelon had been a commendable feat. She certainly lasted longer than the archivist and scribes that had come before her.

Barbatos stares in disgust at his once stark white gloves. But better soil a pair of gloves or two then touch her wretched corpse with his bare hands. Ugh. Was that some viscera on his wingtips? The cruor of it turns purple as it oxidizes in the open air. Perhaps he had gone a bit overboard. Though to him, it was merited. She had been a pain in his ass for years. Plus the past thirty or so versions of her had put up a bit of a fight. Once even he had walked in on a reflection of him taking her down for some other transgressions. He rolls his shoulders as a phantom twitch shoots up his spin. Merging consciousness was unbearable. Yet, as he went about his duties “cleaning” he realized he would handle as many as needed to see you safe. Fascinating.

At first, he had debated with himself on at least keeping a few versions of Kinz around. While he universally hated her, there were a few less volatile Kinz floating around. If only to steal her work for the prince and his goals. But even without her, her discoveries and advancements would be found by others. He had even found a diamond in the rough, a potential successor. Given time to grow and which paths they take they could benefit Diavolo greatly. Even more than her. A gamble he was happy to take. With that discovery, Kinz’s faith was sealed. She was set to be only a figment of a memory left in his mind. The rest of the universe will never remember her.

______________________________________________________________

You stare bewildered at the aged bronze plaque on the door. Something about it didn’t sit well with you. But damned if you could place it. It had something to do with the name. Des Moines...Moines? Who in the hells was that? You glance at your schedule like it was your first day of school instead of your 150th.

Room 325- Demonic history: Professor Des Moines Riel.

This can’t be right. Where was Kinz? You grab at your head crying out at the sudden violent throbbing that erupted between your eyes. The queasiness it caused was beyond description. It was enough to send you to your knees. Indecipherable images layer themselves in your mind, folding and stacking on top of each other. The mounting pressure scares you and then-

Nothing.

Bliss and clarity. Like sucking in a breath of fresh air after a near death experience. What were you thinking about again? How did you end up on the floor? Shaking yourself from your stupor you stumble back to your feet. The school hallway was too stuffy for some reason. You needed to walk away, especially from this door. Just looking at it made your stomach clench. Yes, you needed some fresh air. That’s all.

“Is something wrong?” Patent leather shoes appear beside you matching your hurried gate effortlessly. You shake your head, not trusting yourself to open your mouth lest you start feeling ill again. Barbatos stops you with a gentle hand on your waist. He scrutinizes you, teal eyes roving over every inch of you. Shucking a glove he places a warm palm on your forehead. “You are clammy.”

“I’m fine.” You lie through your locked jaw. “Just got dizzy for a second.” He looks alarmed. “Don’t worry about it- probably just one of those mysteries of the school.”

“I’m not worried about it, but you on the other hand.” He looks up from your flushed face to the hallway you had vacated in such a hurry. The history wing. Could you? Impossible. “Is there an issue inside the department?” Had he missed something?

“What? Oh, no really! Everything is great! I think.” You lean into his hand now resting idly on your cheek. It felt so good compared to your cold skin. “I just- I could have sworn. Is Riel new?” You rub at the bridge of your nose. A knot was growing between your eyes now. “Where is Kin-Kinel? You draw a blank. A name was on the tip of your tongue. You glance up at Barbatos. His hand on your cheek becoming stiff. “What?”

“Nothing my dear.” He recovers smoothly. The hand on your cheek slides down to your shoulder. “Perhaps you should sit out of this class for today? You sound like you're overworking yourself. I’ll make a note of it to Diavolo and Lucifer so it won’t be counted against you.”

“I- don’t think that’s wise,” You argue meekly. “I have a paper to work on for this class-”

Barbatos ignores your weak plea. Drawing you close to his side he steers you down to the lower floor. “Nonsense. Why don’t we spend some time together? I can help you with that paper later as a trade.”

Hmm. That wasn’t a bad idea. If any demon could get you out of class and help you make it up it would be him. Maybe a little break would be good for you. Though you can’t remember why you needed it in the first place.

#obey me fandom #obey me barbatos #obey me headcanons

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ashintheairlikesnow · 4 years

Text

Worth the Risk

CW: Referenced past domestic violence, memories of trauma, some PTSD references, vaguely referenced noncon, abuse survivor navigating relationship conflict, BBU politics

Follow-up to Akio’s Idea

The sun glances off Kauri’s shoulder, lights his pale skin in gold, turns one wide blue eye to a kind of shimmering precious metal. He sits on the bed, on the soft comforter that he helped Jake pick out when he started staying here, soft as down, as feathers, as the way Jake holds him. His stomach twists with cold nervousness, but he manages, his voice low, even deeper, with time, than when he and Jake first met, to ask, “What did you just say?”

“I said no.” Jake closes the door, Kauri listens to the click, part of him eternally on edge for the sound of a lock. There isn’t one, on this door. Jake bought door knobs without a lock, Kauri watched him install it. He can open this door whenever he wants.

He can leave, if he has to.

If he wants to.

“Yeah, I heard you. I think you should reconsider, Jake. This idea - it’s the best one anyone could have. It’ll be public, too public, not something they can come back at without it being really obvious it’s them. If they do this and Chris disappears… people will notice. If they do this, and we get raided, or the Nakamura kid gets threatened, people - the media, our fucking neighbors, the fucking government - will notice.”

“The government is why you all have to hide in the first place.” Jake groans, leaning back against the door. “The government passed the laws that keep you all hiding, that mean you can’t go to school, get paying jobs. The government made those raids legal in the first place! You can’t be serious, Kauri. You cannot be seriously thinking about going along with this.” He’s sincere, but Kauri bristles, too.

You can’t be serious, Kor-Bore. Those rocks in your head must be rolling around too fast.

“Well, I-I am. I think it’s a good idea, I think Chris should do it if he wants-”

“I don’t want him involved in this.” Jake’s voice is flat. It’s solid. It brooks no appeal, but Kauri isn’t ready to be ground down under it, no this time. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he remembers he wrote a poem once, not for a class just for himself, and the words were

I will say, more weight and take the stones you lay upon me still I will breathe in, out more weight

“Jake, I don’t think it’s your choice.”

Jake looks at him from across the room, tall and imposing, all muscles and bulk. His jaw works while he thinks, and Kauri has kissed that jaw, rubbed his own to redness on the stubble there, has watched it soften and relax at the end of hard days with him, just with him, alone in here with a door he can open any time he wants. “What do you mean?”

“Chris’s life isn’t yours,” Kauri says, pitching his already deep voice lower. “It just isn’t. Neither is mine. We-... Jake, I love you, but… if Chris wants to do this, he’s a grown man. He gets to make that decision, and we-... you… don’t.”

He sees the words hit Jake, and Kauri swallows the apology that he feels bubble up in his throat. He doesn’t have to be sorry, for saying something true.

Jake’s eyes move away from his, head shaking, a bit of his ash-blond hair falling over his forehead. It’s gotten shaggy, he’s overdue for a haircut. Kauri likes to watch him, sitting in the backyard with a towel over his shoulders, Antoni clipping centimeters with perfect steadiness, running the electric clipper up the back, leaving the remainder soft and perfect for Kauri’s fingers to run through.

“Kauri-”

“Jake. I’m not with you because you tell us what to do. I’m with you because you don’t.” Kauri’s voice stays low, and it’s not trembling, or faint, or weak. Just… soft, but in a way that still carries across the room. He sits back against the headboard, crossing his arms, and makes himself meet Jake’s gaze.

Blue on blue, always.

“I’m not telling anyone what to do-”

“You literally just said to me, in your own fucking words, Jake Stanton, I said no. Please, explain to me how that’s not telling Chris and I what to do. Yeah? Elaborate, I’m happy to hear it.”

Jake’s eyes narrow. He bristles, defensively, and Kauri’s heart beats hard, pounding against his breastbone. The old scar on his collarbone, still a twisted bit of skin that feels oddly silky under his fingers, begins to itch, to ache. It’s an old phantom pain, a reminder - don’t fight back.

But he won’t back down, or lower his eyes. Not this time.

“I’m not-... Kaur, I’m just saying no to Chris’s, to his friend’s plan, that’s all.” Jake moves towards him, hands out like a supplicant. Kauri swallows against the sense of fingers brushing over his throat, thumbs pressing to his pulse, pushing in. He pretends he can’t feel the push to forgive forget be good.

He only waits, gives the silence time to tick out between them, and raises one eyebrow in skepticism. He can feel his own pulse flutter, anxiety chilling the tips of his fingers and his toes, flipping his stomach. Jake won’t hurt him, for this. He won’t.

After the pause draws out, Jake drops onto the bed himself, sitting at the edge facing one of the windows, looking at the pristine cloudless blue over the tops of the neighborhood houses. His elbows rest on his thighs. He looks tired, in a way he hasn’t looked in years. Tired like he used to look, when he ran on coffee and the smallest victories.

He’s as handsome as Kauri remembers from his earliest blurry feverish memories, although his jawline is sharper now. Every year is written on them both, one way or another. Kauri has his own changes, that he can see in the mirror if he doesn’t look for too long, if he pushes past the headaches that still hit every time he sees himself.

Kauri sees the weight pushing Jake down, the way he feels like he carries them all, long after they’ve more or less learned to stand on their own two feet. He swallows - Jake isn’t his keeper, and never was. He’s meant to be love, the kind that doesn’t lock the doors, the kind that never says you’re so lucky someone will take care of you, you can’t take care of yourself.

“It’s just.” Jake sighs and puts his head in his hands. “Even if it does work for Chris - and who knows if it will - even if it protects him, it could put everyone else in serious danger. My new rescues, you, Antoni, even Nat… everyone.”

“Or,” Kauri offers, voice softening a little, “It could make us all safer by making everyone refuse to look away any longer. Make it harder to make us disappear. You don’t know-”

“That’s just it, Kauri!” Jake turns to look at him, genuinely distraught. Kauri’s fingertips itch to touch, to soothe, to fix. He doesn’t move. “Nobody knows. Nobody has any idea what will happen, no one’s ever done anything like this before!”

Kauri wants to run his fingers through that mussed-up hair, straddle his lap, kiss away his fears. He knows, instinct and training, how to fix unhappiness with his body. Seven years and still, still he knows, deep down.

Instead, Kauri swallows, raises his chin, and sets his jaw. He holds.

“We… we could be freed, Jake.” His voice is barely above a whisper, insistent. “All of us. All of us who run away, me-... Ant, yeah, but also the new ones, and the older ones still on the streets. We could stop hiding. We could-”

“Get thrown into a van,” Jake says, voice cracking a little. “You could be dragged back by fucking WRU into that fucking place. You could disappear, and I’ll never-” Jake’s eyes glitter a little, red at the edges. “I’ll never see you again. Not you… not Ant, not Chris, not anybody. Kauri, I can’t-... everybody who disappears into WRU, they don’t come back.”

“I came back,” Kauri says, voice soft. “I went back in and I came back out-”

“Because Owen Grant fucking paid them to take you back in!” Kauri doesn’t flinch at the sound of his name, not anymore. He doesn’t shiver, although he still feels the chill down his spine. His arms drop, hands back on the comforter, rubbing over a seam sewn in. The headboard makes his back ache where his shoulder blades press against the carved wood. He’s been tied up before, hands wrapped in ropes, his shoulders smacking back into the headboard with every shift of Owen’s hips, until he bruised, and Owen pressed his hand into the bruise and said, I did that, Kor-Bore. I made you look like this. You’re mine.

“But we can come back out without-... without losing ourselves,” Kauri says, voice starting to shake, now. He can feel the bruises that aren’t there. He can see the focus in Owen’s green eyes, too close, feel sweat that isn’t his dripping onto his skin. He can-

He can’t-

“If they want you to. But they won’t, Kauri. And if you get dragged back, after this long, after… after everything… I can’t fail you like that, Kauri. Not you, not Chris. I can’t fail you all like that.”

“You wouldn’t.” Kauri leans forward, now. When Jake leans towards him, he lays a hand over Jake’s, rubs a thumb over his knuckles. “It’s not your responsibility to decide if we speak out. It wouldn’t be your failure, either. But if it works… this could change everything for us. Nobody ever-... nobody ever wants to stand up for us, Jake, not like this. This could make me safer than I’ve ever been, and Chris, too.”

Jake is silent, looking down at their hands. Then he takes in a deep breath. “I think… I think you’ve seen good people for so long,” He says, heavily, words coming out only with effort, “that you’ve forgotten that most people are fucking awful.”

“I haven’t-”

“We’ve been… we’ve been really fortunate, Kauri...”

So fucking lucky.

“... and I can’t risk losing my rescues, just so Chris’s friend can make a fucking point.”

“That Nakamura kid had the idea, yeah, but… Chris wants to do this. He wants to, um, to take Tristan back from this, from these people who stole him.” Kauri curves his fingers into Jake’s palm, squeezes his hand. “He wants to do this for himself, sure, but also for everyone else like him. The, the underagers-”

Jake winces at the reminder and Kauri, always keyed in to the potential negative emotions of anyone around him, can see the old anger simmering under the surface. He wasn’t there when Chris came to stay, but he heard the fury in Jake’s voice when he described it, knows that Chris was Jake’s little brother long before the papers were ever signed to make it official.

“Right,” Jake mumbles.

He’s not mad at me. He’s not mad at me. He’s not mad at me. He’s not.

“He wants to make sure it won’t happen to other ones like him,” Kauri says, keeping soft, telling himself he’s not trying to sound sweet, or good. “Even if we can’t stop it, if all we do is make them stop taking kids-”

“Kaur, they’ll just get quieter about it. They won’t stop, they’ll just stop leaving tracks, stop making it so we can find them. Don’t you get that?”

Jesus, Kauri, don’t you get it?

Kauri’s breath catches. He has to force the exhale, it comes only with effort, through a throat closing. His scar itches even more. “Jake, you’re-... you’re n-not seeing that it doesn’t have to be the worst-case scenario-

“I can see just fine.” Jake pulls his hand away, rubbing at his face, his temples. Kauri sits there with his own hand still out, his fingers curved around nothing but air. “It’s you guys who just can’t see how this is really going to end. You, and Akio, and Chris, you’re all fucking convinced it’s going to solve itself, that we’ll, what? Tell everyone what happened and then you’ll get a standing fucking ovation and the credits roll, world changed, easy as that?”

“Jake, we-... no one is saying this is going to be easy, or-”

“You all are. You’re all saying that!” Jake’s voice is rising, not mad at me he’s not mad at me he’s not mad at me he’s not, and Kauri leans away. His scar burns, pain singing through it like the wires were never removed. He did it himself, he held the bloody things in his hand and stared at them before he passed out on a trashbag on some shitty motel floor, he did it himself and they’re gone but they hurt, anyway.

“You’re acting like one big show will fix it, and you know what it does? It starts it. It starts a whole new set of problems - not even for me, Kaur, for everyone else who runs a safehouse! You’re putting every fucking rescue in serious fucking danger, and you say it’s not my responsibiliy, but you are all my responsibility!”

“We’re adults!” Kauri snaps the words before he can think enough not to. “We’re not kids, Jake, and we’re all-... we’ve all been working for years to be people, and we are. If we want to take the risk-”

“For yourselves, sure, go ahead, fine. Go flying off the fucking cliff and I’ll be there to pick your bodies out of the fucking rubble after.” Jake stands again, pacing, stomping along the floor. Kauri wonders if they can hear him, downstairs. He briefly blocks the light coming in through the window, the room darkens slightly. Kauri’s breath comes faster. “But you can’t put everyone else at risk. You can’t. I won’t let you.”

“You can’t stop us, either.” Jake turns to look at him, and Kauri’s voice nearly falters, dies in his throat. But he pushes, he forces himself to keep speaking. His hand moves unconsciously to scratch at his scar through his shirt, the itch is driving him crazy. “We’re already all at risk, Jake. They pick us up on the street sometimes, if someone calls in a tip. They send vans to safehouses already - you got your ass kicked when they tried to come for Chris-”

“I protected him, then! I can’t protect him if he stands around waving a sign that says I’m a pet, WRU come get me!”

“Maybe Chris decides if he needs protecting, now.” Kauri can hear his own voice dipping into a plea, and he scratches harder, digging his nails into the cotton fabric of his shirt until the skin underneath is burning hot with the ache.

The little circles get hot when Owen sets them off, just a fraction of a second’s warning before the pain that follows on its heels.

“Maybe-... maybe I decide if I need protecting, too. I wish you would understand-”

“I wish you would understand, Kaur! But it feels like you just… don’t, or can’t. Like, it doesn’t matter what I fucking say, it’s just not sinking in, is it?”

There’s a silence, in the room, then.

You’re so fucking stupid.

“Jake-”

“I’m not the bad guy here,” Jake says, almost desperately. He’s not looking at Kauri - he doesn’t see the wrinkle between his eyes as his eyebrows come together, doesn’t see the look on his face, doesn’t see that Kauri’s eyes glitter now, too. “I mean, I’m not trying to be, I just-”

Don’t look at me like that, baby, I’m not the bad guy here. You’re the one who thought you could fucking cook. God, you’re lucky someone loves you.

“... want to keep everyone safe, and staying under the radar is the only thing that’s ever worked. You know, groups have tried going public before, and they get raided, they get hurt. All I’m trying to do is look out for you and Chris, take care of you-”

I’m taking care of you, Kor-Bore. Jesus, it’s not like you could take care of yourself.

“-and everyone else. I love you, Kauri, so much, I want you in my life more than anything-”

I love you, baby. Who else would want you?

“... Chris, too, and I’ve worked so hard to keep all of you safe, and I’m so scared to lose you, I just want you to get that. I can’t see this ending any way but badly, and I’m s-so scared. And you’re so busy staring into the sun trying to figure out how to fly there, and nobody’ll fucking listen to me saying your wings are made of fucking wax. It’s like talking to fucking walls.”

Talking to you is like talking to a gorgeous fucking brick wall, isn’t it?

There’s a bright flash of pain as Kauri breaks skin over his scars. He gasps, a little, for half a second he’s waiting for his muscles to lock, nerves to feel like fire right down to his fingertips, for it all to go horribly, painfully, agonizingly wrong. The shock doesn’t come, but instead Kauri feels new heat inside him.

I know I asked for you to be stupid, but Jesus Christ, Kor-Bore, this is something else.

“I’m not stupid,” He whispers.

Jake blinks and looks over at him, then. Kauri meets his eyes, and sees Jake’s expression shift, and change, in a way that feels like worry, the prelude to an apology. For half a second, Kauri wants to wait, to hear it, to forgive him.

But Owen apologized, too, over and over, and then he called Kauri stupid again anyway, or hurt him, over and over, until he begged for it to stop, until he pleaded, until he was quiet and soft and sweet and forgot how to be anything else.

Kauri had to fight, for his sharp edges.

He won’t let anyone take them away again.

“Shit,” Jake whispers. “Kauri, I didn’t mean-”

“Shut up.” Jake’s mouth snaps shut. “I’m not stupid, Jakob Stanton. I’m not. It doesn’t matter how many ways you or anyone else says it, you can’t make me think I’m stupid anymore!”

“I wasn’t-”

“I said stop talking!” Kauri pushes off the bed now, stalking across the room. He aches, all his muscles remember the aftermath of fighting back, but he ignores the pains he knows are being fed by his memories and not by anything real. “Just… just stop, and listen to me, Jake. Okay. Can you just. Can you just listen?”

Jake swallows, slowly sitting back down on the bed, and nods, hands where Kauri can see them, flat on the bedspread. “Yeah. You, uh. Go on.”

“Thank you for the fucking permission slip, Mr. Stanton. Go fuck yourself, I don’t need you to tell me when I can and can’t talk.” Kauri’s voice drips anger, it’s bathed in it, years and years and years of anger built inside him finally breaking through the cracks in his sweetness. “I’m less than two years younger than you, more or less, so stop treating me like I’m a fucking infant. Which, by the way, neither is Chris.”

Jake doesn’t try to speak this time.

Good.

“I’ve been on the run for seven years. I’m fucking tired. Antoni’s been gone for a decade. Chris has been out for, what, five years? Six? And we’re all still under the radar. None of us have our original names, our original lives. We can’t go home, because we don’t have one anymore! If this idea works, then there are hundreds - maybe thousands of us, Jesus fuck - who could go home again! Who could put our faces on papers and see if anyone knows who we are! We-we could ask for blood tests, we could do the DNA matches they do when they find our bodies, we could-... we could remind everyone who walks past us begging for change that we were goddamn people, and we can be people again!”

Jake swallows. Kauri watches his throat bob with the movement. His collarbone is on fire, but it’s only feeding the hotter flame inside him, the way it feels to just say what he thinks and not have anyone talk over or around it.

Jake watches him.

Jake listens.

“Chris has something we almost never get back. He has his name. He has Tristan Higgs and even more than that, Tristan Higgs had friends. Tristan Higgs had a family, and friends, and this whole life and-... and he found it again.”

“I would-... you know I’d help you find your family in a heartbeat-”

“Jake, that’s not my point. This isn’t about me, or my life, or any of it. I’m just trying to say… Chris wants to do this. He’s wanting to be so fucking brave, braver than I am, than a-any of us here are going to be, probably. He’s going to look WRU in the eyes and tell them Tristan Higgs isn’t forgotten. If you tell him not to, he w-won’t, but… but I think you should tell him to do what he thinks is right, instead. And prepare for it to not be the thing you want him to do.”

Jake nods, just barely. Then, he offers, “Kauri, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to imply-”

“I know. But you did. You said I’m stupid not to agree with you, and that’s not true.”

“That’s not what I-”

“Jake. Just listen to me.”

“Right.”

There’s power in this moment, in telling someone to listen to him, to stop, and having them just… do it. In his mind, Kauri shoves Owen up against a wall, throws him off the fucking balcony, drowns him in the bathtub, smothers him with a pillow locks him in the fucking box from WRU that he locked Kauri in for sensory deprivation pulls the giant TV over on top of him burns the fucking condo to the ground-

-cuts the wires out of himself, piece by piece, screaming with the pain even as his fingers twist into the pieces and pull them out, blacks out and wakes up and keeps going, again and again, until the only thing left is the blood-

Kauri’s chin lifts, and he holds out his hands for Jake to take, but it’s not weakness. He’s not appeasing the danger in the room, he is the danger.

He can be dangerous.

He can own himself so thoroughly that no one can take him away from himself, not ever again.

“You think I’m naive,” He says, softly. “Because we all start that way. You think that I don’t know what could happen to us after this. But I’m telling you… I know I could disappear. I could know that we could get hurt. I know how bad it can be. I know what it’s like, going back in there.”

Jake pulls his hands close, kisses the backs of them, slowly leans his forehead to touch there against Kauri’s knuckles. “I’m so scared to lose you,” He whispers. “All of you.”

“I know,” Kauri says, and his voice gentles, now. “I know you are. But… Jake, what I’m saying is… we’ve all already lost everything there was to lose. We lost our families, if we had any. We lost our memories. We lost our names. Chris, and I…”

He pulls his hands free, moves closer, lets Jake lean forward to rest against his stomach, his fingers running through his short blond hair. Kauri’s eyes light on a framed photo, one Jake has carried with him for years.

Jake with Chris at the beach, Kauri standing off to the side shading his eyes. All of them smiling.

“We know what it means to be lost. And we want to tell WRU that no matter what they do, the whole world is going to see what happens to kids like Chris in the system, and I-... I want you to trust me, Jake. Just for this. Trust me that I’ve thought through every single outcome, even the worst ones, and… I think the risk is worth it.”

Jake is quiet, his breathing warm on Kauri’s stomach, the hair at his nape soft under Kauri’s fingertips.

“I’m just scared,” Jake whispers.

Kauri nods, even though Jake can’t see it. Then he says, softly, “I’m not.”

Another pause. “Okay. I love you, Kaur. I-I’m scared shitless, but... I trust you. I need your help to plan for what we’re going to do to make sure my people aren’t here when it happens. I-I can’t-... I’ll help you, but… but I need your help, too.”

Kauri smiles. He tries not to feel triumph. He does, a little.

Mostly he feels like he could walk out the door right now and Jake wouldn’t stop him - but he doesn’t have to. He knows he can.

He doesn’t want to.

“I love you, too, Jake. Let me talk to Keira. I think-... I think I know what we can do to make sure if WRU tries to come for the safehouses, they won’t find a single goddamn one of us at home.”

---

Tagging: @burtlederp , @finder-of-rings , @endless-whump , @whumpfigure , @astrobly @newandfiguringitout , @doveotions , @pretty-face-breaker , @boxboysandotherwhump , @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump , @whump-tr0pes @whumpiary @downriver914 @vickytokio

#whump #speak out arc #bbu #box boy #box boy universe #box boy multiverse #erase to control #jake the shelter guy #referenced past noncon #referenced past pet whump #very brief vague reference to ableist torture #pet whump #trauma recovery #ptsd tw #abuse survivor tw

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fbfh · 4 years

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Leo Valdez relationship and intimacy headcanons

As with all steamy/nsfw works, the characters are aged up to 18+/college era

let’s get started ‘,:)

(1.2k, get ready)

When you’re making out he’s a top

But when things get heavier

Bottom as hell

Like he’ll instigate

He’ll dance with you and playfully grind a little

He’ll kiss you and bite your ear and whisper things in spanish that shouldn’t be translated

But as soon as you reciprocate

Bottom mode: fucking on

[plankton voice] I didn’t expect to get this far

Later on in the relationship he might get a little more confident and top you on occasion

Or more if you encourage it

But if he could have one image for the rest of his life

It would absolutely be you hovering over him about to go to town

Dies in the best possible way if you push him onto the bed/couch/wherever

Gets very excited when you straddle him

Please please straddle him

His hips will automatically go up a little before you even do anything

Really loves when you straddle him

Loves holding your waist and loves squeezing your butt and loves touching your hair

Genuinely loves all the parts of you

Ass? Yes. Tiddies/pecs? Yes. Legs? Yes.

Big fan of making out

B i g fan of grinding

You could absolutely finish him by grinding

I’m not saying it hasn’t happened before

Like if you grind against him at all even a little

Shabam

Putty in your hands

If you do that little swirly thing with your hips that he loves he’ll moan so loudly

Speaking of which

He is so vocal

S o vocal

Half to break the tension half cause he can’t help it

Makes the absolute nicest noises

Like he takes in a sharp breath and then moans it out

It’s n i c e

A little part of you wants to bite his neck and record the noise as his ring tone in your phone

L o v e s when you grab him by the collar

If he’s wearing a tie grab him by the tie

Lowkey started wearing a tie more often jus so you’d do this

Generally loves being in a very close proximity to you

He’s the type to be at least a little horny all the time

His love manifests as horniness a lot

I’m talking any time any place

Especially if it’s inconvenient

Grocery store, clothes shopping, bumping into an old friend

Wake you up in the middle of the night to see if you’re feeling frisky kinda shit

And how could you not be with this boy

The morning after he’ll wake you up with neck kisses

And in his gravely ass morning voice

“So… you up for round… what round are we up to?”

Goes feral when you lift up his shirt/hoodie by running your hands up his abs

Member 2/2 of the growl/purr thing club

He’ll say something dirty in spanish and punctuate it with some kind of purr snarl and maybe a well placed bite

It’s extremely effective

Don’t let him know that though

Otherwise he’ll do it all the time and have too much power

Speaking of power

Call him papi and he bursts into flame

“Whatever you say, papi…”

!!!!!!

He’ll genuinely freeze in shock

Red as a firetruck

But you can only do it like once a year or he’ll actually die

It’s that powerful

Really likes lacy underwear

If u wear bras and you happen to wear like

An unlined lace bra

Esp if it’s like burgundy or red

Obvs

Or if you genuinely want to end him then wear matching bra and panty sets

The top of his head unfolds like a cartoon and animated rockets and fireworks spray out

Another fun thing you can do to ruin him:

Trace your fingers over the lines of his muscles

Especially his v line

Makes him shiver every fucking time

If you surprise him by pushing him onto the couch, straddle him and grind until he’s bucking his hips and moaning

Dw it doesn’t take long

He will literally genuinely unironically propose marriage if you do that

The type of person to cancel plans if you take off your shirt

Have you seen those tiktok videos where people surprise their s/os by walking out naked

The first one in this compilation is all I have to say about that

H i c k i e s

This man and his hickies,, eye-

He fucking LOVES giving you hickies

Will not object in any way shape or form if you give him a few on his chest and neck

Will “accidentally” let them show without an ounce of shame

r/oopsdidntmeanto

Bite his collar bones really gently

Just trust me his reaction is worth it

Very very worth it

Squeeze his thighs from time to time

It’s a nice surprise for all parties

He is a total hoe for egirls

You cannot convince me otherwise

Like if you put on any kind of egirl outfit/makeup he loses his shit

Do an ahegao face as a joke

He actually stumbles backward and falls onto the nearest surface

And then bursts into flame

He just stares at you and you know you’re in for a long night/afternoon/morning

“H-how… how do I make you do that again??”

If you combine the face with the egirl look just uuuh

Time it at the beginning of a vacation or three day weekend

Cause neither of you will be doing anything for a while

Except each other

An “every surface in the house” kinda guy

Literally genuinely such a good lover

Like he’s so focused on you

Gets serotonin just from you being around

Much less you trailing your hands under the waistband of his underwear

Oh do that too

Like you unbutton his pants and start to tug them down

But kinda play with the band and material of his underwear before you finish undressing him

Drives him fucking wild

m u t u a l g r o p i n g

Very into foreplay/fun teasing

But won’t die without it

It’s like,, you get a cake and it’s amazing

And the more frosting decorations and sprinkles you add it gets even better

You’re just so excited you have dessert

Idek if that makes sense but you probs get what i mean

He has a unique brand of aftercare

Ig it’s like,,, more focused on bonding than one person taking care of the other

Good luck not cuddling with this man

Let him sleep with his face in your chest

We all know he’s a stomach sleeper

Esp if you have boobs

If he could purr he absolutely would

If you try to wham bam thank you maam without cuddling after like

He’ll survive

But when he finally gets you to cuddle he will absolutely make up for that lost time

His favorite thing ever is when he gets to see you just like,,, being organically yourself

Like watching you take off your makeup

Absolutely the type to watch you get dressed the morning after

Like you don’t even really realize he’s awake

But you get that feeling like eyes are on you yk

You turn around and see him looking at you all sleepy and lovey

“...What?”

“Nothing…”

So you keep getting dressed

But the look doesn’t fade

And you know it’s not nothing

The way he’s looking at you now, you know you’re the something

He makes it feel really nice to be the something

Cause like you view yourself as his something

But he deadass sees you as his everything

And he will do everything he can to make you feel euphoric in as many aspects of your life as possible

#leo valdez x reader #heroes of olympus x reader #Heroes of Olympus #Leo Valdez #heroes of olympus headcanons #leo valdez headcanon #leo valdez imagine #heroes of olympus imagine

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ayatosmlktea · 4 years

Text

best boyfriend series | kirishima

A/N: So there is a list me and the gal pals have compiled of who we think are the best boyfriends in the entire world. I haven’t been in a thirsting mood for so long probably bc im mad ✨depressed✨ so the only thing on my mind is soft boys and how amazing they are. This is the most writing I've done in months but I wrote this for Bri’s birthday a while back and am now sharing them with you bc we could all use some wholesome kiripima

I wrote these as the thoughts came to my mind so...its not really organized ANYWAY enjoy!

- Your sense of humour and easy going personality is what draws him in even if he doesn’t realize it to be love in the beginning

- Even when he’s training with bakugou his eyes are always searching you out, the way you handle your quirk takes his breath away he just thinks you look so badass in combat

- Every time you ask if he wants to study together his heart starts racing so fast it feels like it’s going to burst out of his chest and he has to fight back the blush that burns the back of his neck and ears whenever you giggle

- As you and Mina become closer, you start hanging out more with the bakusquad.

- Kiri finds himself getting increasingly distracted by you, he notices every little thing like the way your eyes shine whenever you smile, the way cover your mouth when you laugh which bothers him because the entire world deserves to see how beautifully radiant you look when you’re happy

- He notices the way your body language changes when you’re tired, how your attitude gets a little grumpier when you’re hungry and through learning all of that Kiri steps in to make you whole

- When you’re tired he passes you his notes to copy after class just giving you a knowing smile and ignoring the way his heart flutters when you stare at him like he’s your knight in shining armour

- He doesn’t like the way that Denki and sero playfully flirt with you, it makes him feel weird although he knows he has no right to be jealous so he ignores it

- During your second year you start dating Shinsou and Kiri can feel his world come to a halt, his heart plummets into this stomach but he puts on a fake smile and tells you that he’s happy for you and he hopes Shinsou treats you right

- You don’t seem to notice the way the light in his eyes is gone, how much more time he puts into training now that you’re busy with your new relationship and as bitter and mad as he wants to be he knows you deserve to be happy, even if it isn’t with him so he pushes his feelings down and acts like he isn’t being punched in the gut every time you kiss shinsou and not him

- Your last night in the dorms before summer vacation Kirishima finds himself being woken up by a quick series of knocks on his door

“Denki I told you already pennywise is not under your be-” he stops mid sentence when he finds you outside of his door, sniffling with red rimmed eyes

- He’s barely awake and processing what’s happening as he opens his door wider so you can come inside before one of the teachers catches you out of bed and on the boys side of the dorms

- He can hear that you’ve been crying and are still trying not to when you apologize for waking him up so late but you didn’t know who else to go to and suddenly his entire body is burning with anger when you tell him that Shinsou broke up with you

- He can’t help but let out a broken laugh, Shinsou never deserved your heart in the first place. If he couldn’t see how dedicated you were to the people you loved, how you cared for your friends and put their needs above yours, how incredibly talented and hardworking and beautiful you were then he was the dumbest man alive

- You’re suddenly quiet and Kiri realizes that he’s said all of that outloud and the overwhelming urge to disappear consumes him. He was sure that you were going to get up and walk out and never speak to him again but you don’t

- Instead you ask if he means what he said so quietly he can barely hear it and despite how hot his cheeks are burning with embarrassment he tells you he does

- He stops you when you lean in to kiss him and his heart hurts when he can see the rejection and embarrassment paint your features but he tells you that it’s not because he doesn’t want to kiss you, because of course he wants to, but he doesn’t want to take advantage of your feelings when you’re going through an emotional time

- You two spend the summer hanging out- just as friends, he wants to give you time to get over Shinsou because the last thing he wants is to be your rebound

- But with every day that goes by he finds it harder not to kiss you, not to hold your hand, not to text you every second of the day, not to tell you that he loves you

- The realization that he loves you doesn’t scare him, but it is the first time he admits to himself and accepts it rather than trying to bury it and so after he walks you home and you turn to go into inside he grabs your wrist and pulls you in for a kiss

- It’s not the most coordinated kiss but it sets every nerve in his body on fire and you’re both clinging onto each other like it’s your only lifeline. You break apart with the biggest smiles on your face and in that moment Kiri knows he’s going to spend the rest of his life with you

‧͙⁺˚*·༓☾　　☽༓·*˚⁺‧͙

- Well i wasn’t planning to write all that so now let’s get into WHY he’s the best bf

He’s 100% devoted to you, literally you could be in a room full of fkn models and his eyes would be focused on you because he thinks you’re the most beautiful woman to walk the earth

Any other relationship you’ve had in the past does not even come close in comparison to how Kiri treats you

- He would give up his life to make sure you’re happy, seeing you upset breaks his heart because he cannot stand the sight of you crying. It literally tears a whole in his chest

- If it’s within his power to deal with, he will make sure that whoever hurts you does not make the same mistake again. Maybe its a little unethical to use his pro-hero status to strike fear into the heart of creeps who won’t leave you alone at work, or the girls who enjoy gossiping about your relationship behind your back but he does not give a single fuck

- Your happiness comes before his and if you aren’t happy, he’s not happy.

- If he hears people talking about your relationship and making it seem as though you’re only with him for the fame or money he’ll tear them down with the brightest smile on his face not missing a beat

- While he acts all big and scary fighting villains, when he comes home to you at the end of the day he is the most cuddly person you’ve ever known. It doesn’t matter how exhausted he is, he always grabs you in for a hug and doesn’t let you down until he’s satisfied.

- Kiri is really big on skin to skin contact, expect him to constantly be slipping his hands under your shirt and wrapping his arms around you at the most random times

- When you guys are getting ready to sleep he’ll pull you snug against his chest and bury his face in the nape of your neck,

Your scent helps him fall asleep, not in a creepy way but in a ‘you’re safe and here with me so i can close my eyes knowing that everything is okay’ kind of way.

‧͙⁺˚*·༓☾　　☽༓·*˚⁺‧͙

- In my humble opinion, once kiri catches feelings for you they’ll never fade

- Even if you fight, it only reminds him of everything you two have built together and that you’re worth fighting for

- You hear a lot of your friends complain about how their boyfriends never listen to them, or how they don’t know what they like, you watch them shamelessly flirt with other guys and wonder what it must be like to be in such an unsatisfying relationship

- Kiri knows you better than you know yourself, he’s so in tune with you and your body that you don’t even need to ask him to do anything, he just knows

- He remembers little dates that most boyfriends dont, your first kiss, your first date, the first time he said “i love you” outloud

- He also is the first one to say it and it happens when you’re just hanging out in his room

- He’s known that he’s been in love with you for months but didnt want to say it too soon and have you freak out but after nearly six months in it’s driving him crazy not being able to tell you he loves you

- When he does your eyes glisten with tears and he freaks out thinking that he’s said too soon until you’re crushing him in a hug and tell him that you love him too

- When you’ve had a bad day at work or life is just becoming too stressful for you to deal with he puts everything else on hold to comfort you

- Makes you your favourite meal for dinner, gets your favourite show ready to watch after your shower and massages your feet while you snack on some ice cream for dessert

- Ever since you’d started dating Kiri had a habit of “accidentally” forgetting his hoodies at your place, spraying them with a bit of extra cologne while you were in another room

- He loved it when you wore his clothes, it filled him with a feeling he couldn’t quite describe but it solidified in his mind that you were his

- After almost four years of dating he knows that he can’t spend another second without you being his, forever

- He stays up all night looking at engagement rings but none of them are good enough for you so he does a little more research and finds a place that makes custom rings and has the date the first time he kissed you engraved on the inside of the ring

- He 100% cries the second he sees you walk down the aisle, if he thought you were beautiful before, there’s nothing else that compares to you on your wedding day

- Everything else drowns out around him and the other thing that matters is you, sliding your rings onto each other fingers and sharing your tearful vows and then you’re pronounced husband and wife and his entire being is elated

- He kisses you with a passion and fervour you’ve never felt before, like he’s pouring his soul into the kiss , every promise he’s ever made and will make and all the things he can’t find the right words to say are transmitted

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lavender-lovers · 5 years

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literally tangled is the most romantic disney movie and no one can ever convince me otherwise, in fact I believe it is the most romantic movie

on her birthday, he spends the entire day doing absolutely whatever makes her happy.

and as a book lover/writer, I cannot ignore the cutest date moment of the day

god. can you imagine.

this is someone who’s not only helping to fulfill her dream, but who insists on doing it in the best way possible. also he looks like such a dork in this and he fully knows it but he doesn’t care

look at his face. look at this man’s fucking face. he’s perfectly happy doing nothing more than holding flowers for her so she can put them in the water. she’s the most beautiful part of the world he’s ever seen, and doing the simplest thing to bring her happiness is all he wants to do right now.

and then he takes this shit to the next level.

all she wanted to do was see the lanterns. even after years of dreaming, she still would’ve been only a spectator, but he chose to make her a part of it. he bought them lanterns so that they would be just as much a part of it as the rest of the kingdom.

she tries to give him the satchel back, but he doesn’t even want it. he puts it down immediately, barely even looking at it. he only has eyes for her, only cares about her and this moment and the way her dream is finally coming true. he wants to make this perfect for her. it’s not about the crown anymore.

tell me. that this is not THE MOST MAGICAL THING. her face, the surroundings, the gentle way they release the lanterns... nothing else matters, to either of them. everything is magical and filled with a thousand lanterns.

he’s so fucking fond. the tenderness... she’s his light, his new dream.

there was a post a while back about how gothel always showed affection by touching rapunzel’s hair, while eugene was always tucking it back so he could see her better. he just wants her; there’s no more material gain, no value he’s trying to win.

I will never be over the tenderness. never.

and later, in the tower?

he knows that what he’s about to do will kill him. he’s in incredible pain, having been stabbed in the stomach, and he knows he’s dying. rapunzel has just agreed to trade away her freedom, forever, to save him. I’ve been talking mostly about him, but let’s think about her for a moment.

she’s realized that her “mother” has been lying to her for eighteen years. she kept rapunzel from the joy she shared with the people in the kingdom, from bonding and connecting with others (something she so clearly longs for and enjoys), from her family. she knows gothel has lied about the world, has manipulated her, has built rapunzel’s entire life on false fantasy. she knows she’s been kept locked away for no reason other than gothel’s selfishness. she’s been literally chained up and gagged, her hair used against her to hurt the only other person she’d ever loved.

she knows what she’s bargaining for. she’s been out in the world now; she knows what she’s giving up. she knows she’s agreeing to return to a life of fake love, of fables and solitude, forever serving the interests of her kidnapper. she knows what it’s like living under gothel, to be yelled at and made to think everything is always her fault.

but here she is, offering her whole life up. here she is, knowing full well now what she’s missing, and she’ll give it all up to save his life. he’ll get to keep living in that world she’s only glimpsed, alive and able to find love somewhere else again, and that’s enough for her. she’ll be locked away, but he’ll be alive. he’ll be free in ways she never will be again, and saving that life for him is worth everything to her.

this is her new dream. if she can’t live it with him, that’s okay.

even with her hair gone, even when she’s lived her whole life knowing her one cut lock of hair has no power, she’s still trying to save him, trying to will any last drop of healing power to save him. her hair is the only thing she’s been valuable for, all her life. and the first time she needs it for her own wishes, the one time she needs it to save someone she loves, it’s not there anymore. she has no power, no magic. she’s helpless, watching the one person she’s ever been in love with die.

and even dying, he still uses the last of his energy to try to make her smile, one last time.

and then he fucking dies.

her face is heartbreaking. she’s still holding him, still wishing and dreaming even though she knows it’s over, still hoping. she would’ve given everything for him to live, and he’s just died in her arms.

but when he comes back? when he’s alive and breathing and she doesn’t quite understand how but he’s alive?

god, just look at how they hold each other. this is more fucking romantic than any disney kiss ever.

they’re alive. they’re free. they’re together.

and even after all that, he brings her home. back to the place that was about to hang him, the place that wants him dead. even if they let him off for returning the princess, he might never be allowed to be with her, as an outlaw and a commoner. he has no idea what he’s walking into, what he’s risking, by bringing her. even if it means losing her, he loves her and wants her to be home and find her family more than he wants her to be only with him and never know. he might be giving her up, and he’s okay with it.

and by the end it’s a happy ending and they’re best friends and they’re playful and they’re adorable and just. fuck. this is it, this is the single most romantic movie. they are in love and they are perfect for each other and they just love each other so much.

#tangled #rapunzel #flynn rider #disney #romance

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drakewalkerfantasy · 4 years

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The Secret of Affair (Tatum x F!MC)

Summary: The Secret is the only way for them to be together. But how long will they be able to keep it until Madam President will find out the truth? And how easily it will be for them not forget about the rules in public? Couple of drinks in and the darkness… will it be possible for them to keep a secret? Or will they fall ones again in the arms of each other?

Words: 3699

Rating: T

Warning: skinny dipping

Authors notes: I really hope you will enjoy this. Please let me know if still want to be tagged and what I can improve. This chapter mostly filler chapter.

Sequel for The art of Foreign Affairs

Previous parts of The Secret of Foreign Affairs.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

The sun was barely rising and the room was still bathing in the darkness, when Claire felt a softest touch of someone’s lips on her bare shoulder. She groaned quietly, still too tired and hungover after yesterday, trying to roll over to the side and go back to the peaceful sleep she was so unceremoniously ripped out from. But the man behind her didn't stop, gently kissing her up her neck and across her jawline closer to her ear until she could feel the hot burning breath against it.

“Go back to sleep,” she grumbled to the man next to her.

“I need to go. Madam President arriving in a few hours,” whispered Tatum to her ear, kissing her softly on a lobe, before grazing his fingers over her abdomen. The featherlight touch - making her stomach fluttering with butterflies.

“Oh my God, I almost forgot,” she jolted up, almost immediately falling back with a groan. Feeling how the nausea washed over her and her body ached.

“Are you feeling okay,” asked Tatum, brushing strands of hair out of Claire’s eyes, watching how they fluttered open meeting his with a sleepy smile.

“After drinking too much? Or after mind blowing orgasms, when I literally passed out from?”

“Both,” chuckled Tatum.

“Yes... no... God, I feel like dying, but it was totally worth it,” she murmured, wrapping her hands around Tatum’s neck and pulling him closer to her. Her body stretched against his, and their lips met in a sweet kiss. “On the other hand... I don’t think I thanked you for that,” she whispered trying to meet Tatum’s lips again, but instead feeling his hands on her shoulders holding her back with gentle resistance.

“CoCo, I really need to go,” he groaned, meeting the most adorable pout he had ever seen. Trying the best he could to resist her. “And you need to get ready. I left an aspirin for you on the night table and glass of water. I will be back, when your mother arrives.”

“Okay,” she sighed in defeat, falling back to her pillow with closed eyes, suddenly feeling the gentle press of Tatum’s lips to hers followed by the soft whisper into her ear.

“I love you, and after finally having you... I just cannot... cannot risk losing you again.”

“I love you too,” whispered Claire in reply with her eyes still closed. Not able to risk them to open, feeling the pressure of tears building behind them. Listening for the door to close after a moment.

In a few hours Claire was finally ready for the day, anxiously pacing through the suite’s kitchen. Feeling simultaneously exhausted and wired up. Ignoring Dionne’s futile attempts to distract her obviously distraught friend, while she managed to give only half-hearted replies. Letting something similar to huffs and hums leave her throat.

Her perfectly manicured nails dug into her palms, leaving the half moon crescendos in the soft flesh. Her white teeth biting the corner of her rosy mouth, feeling how the worry started to rise in her. Her eyes darted to the clock now and then, getting more anxious with every passing second, when finally they heard a knock on the door, followed by Murphy and Tatum letting themselves in.

Her heart jolted in her chest when her gaze met Tatum’s. The calm washed over her the instance he came closer as if his sole presence would make it easier for her to survive this weekend.

One weekend with my mother... just one weekend and then... then we will be able to go back to what we have. Just one weekend to be cautious around each other.

Thought she, feeling how the back of his hand brushed against hers, instantly sending the rush of heat through her body. Making her whisper Oh God... in a breathless moan, when his heated gaze focused on hers, and she was barely able to recognise that he was speaking to her. It was until she felt the gentle touch to her shoulder jolting her back to the present.

“Claire... Claire? Are you okay?” Asked Tatum, his stony mask back in place, but she still could recognise the sipping concern in his voice, mixed with longing and gentleness of his eyes. “Your mother is already here. She sent me to let you know that she is waiting in the quad. But if you need a moment...”

“No... I’m fine... Ready to face the day now, if you are,” said Claire taking a deep breath before stepping outside of their suite. Stumbling back from surprise when the flash of the cameras started to blind them from all sides. Instantly, Tatum shielded Claire as she muscled through the mob, feeling sick... almost suffocating from all the attention.

“That’s enough. Back off,” snapped Tatum when one of the reporters’ showed the microphone in Claire’s face. His hand almost on an instinct found Claire’s behind his back, taking it gently in his and leading her away from the crowd of the reporters. “Are you okay?” he asked, when they finally reached the centre of the quad. Looking around to make sure that no one was watching them.

“I’m fine...,” she breathed, reluctantly letting go of Tatum’s hand still walking behind him, when he suddenly stopped, turning to face her.

“Really?” sceptically asked Tatum.

“Okay... The reporters... they can find a way to twist everything no matter how innocent it is. And with them here... all around us makes me freak out. What if they will sense something between us? What if my mum will get a gist of it?”

“Claire, they would find a way to stir drama whether it’s true or not. So don’t let this get to you. And regarding u...,” he said, suddenly stopping short, taking a hasty step away from Claire. His eyes instantly became a shade darker, while his lips turned into a thin line. His posture visibly stiffens, when the steely voice rang behind them. Making her own blood to run cold.

“Claire, there you are. I and Winston started to wonder if you got lost. Or if the head of your security was keeping you away from your own mother,” said Madam President, placing one hand around Claire’s shoulders. Letting her go, the moment paparazzi were out of sight.

“Tatum here was just briefing me regarding the press,” hastily intervened Claire, while her mother’s eyes snapped back to hers from Tatum, taking her in as if for the first time.

“You look kind of tired. Were you up late last night?” asked her mother suspiciously. Her gaze shifted from unreadable Tatum’s expression to Claire’s and back. Noticing how Claire's pupils dilated slightly and a dark shadow passed over her face. Seeing something new in her gaze... something she never seen in it before. No... not guilt. Fear... fear and anger. Claire's hands in a white-knuckled grip placed in front of her, and her voice even. But even with how hard she tried to hide it, her mother instantly knew that Claire was lying.

“Oh, yes. I was trying to cram in a little more studying and lost track of time.”

“Claire, if you are going to lie, at least do it well,” chastised Claire’s mother.

“Okay... Fine...," tensely replied Claire, getting a raised brow from her mother from the way she was talking. "Okay, I went out partying with some of my friends last night. Can we go now? I think you may want to meet some of my friends and their parents,” said Claire after a deep breath doing her best to sound no more different then she usually was. Her eyes seeking Tatum's for support, but even though his eyes were on them, his expression blank... professional. And the only thing that gave him away was the colour of his eyes that changed from the oak coolness to the chocolate warmth only for a split second, when their gazes met.

He watched with his jaw tensed how Claire’s mother wrapped her hand firmly around Claire. Her sharp nails dug into her daughter’s shoulder, making her wince. Fake smile not reaching her eyes, when she waved at photographers taking their picture before moving toward the garden. Making him, Winston, and the rest of her security team trail behind. Having a bad, crushing feeling that she knows or the least suspects them.

Finally after hours and hours of showing her mother around campus, socialising with different VIP dignitaries and introducing some of her friends, they headed to the Welcome Dinner.

“Finally. I’m starving,” said Claire when they got close to the Main building. Her hands nervously fidgeted with her new dress folds, throwing a cautious gaze toward Tatum with a small smile. Feeling the heat of his gaze running up her bare skin even behind the stony mask.

“I’m looking forward to meeting some of your other classmates. We may make some new alianses. Show our people that we may have some other...,” she fell silent for a moment, contemplating her next words. “perspective opportunities before the Peace Summit.”

“Ummmm... I can always introduce you to...,” but before she could finish, she was interrupted by Winston who hastily was approaching them.

“Madam President? A moment,” Said he, pulling her aside. Making Claire sigh in relief. Before suddenly getting startled by the tap on her shoulder.

“Blaine,” gasped Claire, whirling toward him before looking around. Her heart was thundering violently and she looked toward Tatum meeting his darkened gaze before looking back at Blaine.

“Well, look who got all dressed up,” said Blaine with a smirk, his gaze roaming over her body before meeting her eyes again. “You’re really trying to impress someone. Who is the lucky guy?"

“Blaine...,” Claire raised her brow in warning, feeling how the blush started to colour her cheeks. “Also who said you aren’t this lucky guy?” suddenly asked Claire, noticing her mother’s eyes on them from afar. Her cheeks flamed when she threw a quick glance toward Tatum. Feeling how her heart flipped in her chest from the intense stare behind the blank expression in his eyes, noting how his fists balled and his brows furrowed just slightly. His lips tightened into a thin line, and the vein on his neck started to pulse, indicating that he didn’t like the way Blaine looked at her, making her instantly feel hot.

“Oh? Interesting... I thought...,” he started also looking in Tatum's direction with the raised brow before cutting himself short with a wide smile.

“Anyway. Seems like you will have no problem with that. So how is it going with your mum? You seemed pretty tense.”

“It’s okay. Everything’s fine. How about yours?”

“Spent the entire day dodging their questions about why I was almost expelled...”

“At least we won the debate... Right?”

“Yeah, no offence, but I was actually surprised they took the news that we were paired together, so well. You know... considering our countries' history,” said Blaine.

But before Claire could reply, the two of them got interrupted by her mother... and two other people, that Claire could only assume were Blaine’s parents.

The tension immediately hung in the air, making Tatum step closer protectively standing behind Claire. His eyes trained on her just in case, making Blaine to throw a glance toward Claire and roll his eyes. Finally after exchanging pleasantries and wishing each other good luck, Blaine’s family headed off toward the entrance with Blaine unwillingly trailing behind them. His head snapping toward Claire sending her a warm smile, making Tatum’s fists to clench even harder and step forward.

“Claire, Madam President, I’ll lead you to your seats,” finally said Tatum, not even looking in Claire’s direction, leading them inside. His posture was stiff, but when he helped Claire to her place, his hand gently brushed hers, sending her pulse into overdrive, making the soft smile almost break through her neutral expression.

His soft voice washed over her and her heart starting to race even, though the words he was saying were meant to everyone.

“I’ll be stationed around the perimeter with the other guards if you need me,” departing as soon as she nodded.

A couple of hours later and dozens of tense conversations with her mother, the dinner finally started to wind down. But before that Winston got a notification on his phone. His eyes passing Claire, sending an uneasy shiver run down her spine.

“Madam President, we have a situation,” said he, showing Claire’s mother his phone screen with the dark look.

“Claire... I’m really sorry, but I need to address that,” said her mother after a moment. Her expression is blank and professional. The same one Claire had seen for so many years and so many times. Her eyes followed her mother’s, noticing the long look she gave Tatum as if looking for something. Still unsure what she was looking for, but whatever it was clearly she didn’t find it.

“Now? I thought you told me that you cleared your schedule for the weekend, mom,” said Claire, trying for her voice to stay steady.

“I know, but this is important and needs my immediate attention. It will take a couple of hours tops and then we can celebrate your achievements and spend some time together. I promise.”

“What could this possibly be, that you suddenly need to leave?”

“Please, Claire. You know we don’t discuss that.”

“Yes, it seems we hardly discuss anything lately,” snapped Claire, abruptly standing up and rushing toward the exit, not even bothering to look if her mother followed.

Claire quickly bursted into the cool night, trying to hold herself together, but the emotions bubbled up inside her.

The fear... the anger... the hurt... and sadness...

She was so deep in her feelings and thoughts that she didn’t hear anyone approaching her. Until she felt the soft touch to her shoulder and the familiar voice ringing out just behind her, making her turn around.

“Claire... are you okay?” asked Tatum, his brows furrowed at her crestfallen expression.

“Yes...,” lied Claire before her shoulders slumped under Tatum’s knowing gentle gaze. “God, no... I caught her gaze when she looked at you... after Winston showed her something on his phone... She... she looked at you as if she was looking for something. As if she knows about us... Oh my God... what if she knows? I cannot lose you again... I just... I just cannot,” mumbled Claire, feeling how it became difficult to breath until she felt how the Tatum’s grip tightened on her shoulders and he pulled her closer to his chest not caring if someone would see them.

His voice washed over her like soothing waves, while his fingers drew soft circles over her bare skin.

“You will not lose me. I’m not letting that happen,” he whispered against her ear, kissing her temple gently. His grip getting tighter for a moment before stepping aside cautiously looking around.

Her own gaze sweeping across the quad before she started to walk, wanting to be anywhere else but here.

“Where are you going?” frowned Tatum, picking up the pace to match hers, reaching her in a couple of strides.

“I need to get away... at least for a moment,” she replied, not stopping to walk.

“You know I can’t let you just wander off by yourself,” sighed Tatum, jogging after her and putting his hand on her shoulder.

“I really don’t care about security protocol right now, Tatum,” she said, whirling at him. Her eyes darken in warning.

“I’m not talking about protocol. I’m talking about being your boyfriend. So please let me come with you?” he said earnestly, finally making Claire nod before walking into the night further away from the main hall.

A short walk later, Claire and Tatum arrived at the shores of Vancross’s private lake. Gazing silently across the water until Tatum cleared his throat.

“You know you can talk to me...” he said gently.

“I know... I’m just so tired of being the President’s perfect daughter. I’m tired of still trying so hard... And more importantly I’m tired of feeling like I live in the box. Tatum, I love you. And I even cannot have a normal relationship with you... I lost you for five years because of her. She hurt and tortured you... and all because of what? I still even don't know for what... she knew I had feelings for you... she knew it,” whispered Claire, feeling how her eyes filled with tears, and her voice became more rasped when she looked away, trying to sweep them away. But before she could do that she felt Tatum’s fingers wrapping around her wrist before brushing her tears with his thumb.

His body now closer than before, and his gaze meeting hers. The familiar aroma of his aftershave washing over them, the scent of ocean breeze mixing with her floral perfume. She took a step back still holding his intense gaze, and began undressing. The teasing gleam sparkling in her eyes.

“What are you doing?” chuckled Tatum, the sound of it dying the instant the scarlet dress dropped to her feet. Her tanned body bathing in the dim light of the full moon. And he took her in, swallowing heavily, while his eyes hungrily roamed over her body. The quiet almost desperate groan leaving his throat, and his length getting instantly hard from the mere thought of striding toward her and taking her into his arms. To kiss her... to touch her... to taste her. And oh God how much he wanted to taste her... and then... shit. He thought, feeling how his flesh pulsed, jerking instantly when he caught her gaze and the direction where it was aiming.

“I’m going swimming. And what did you think?” She replied with the laugh, nodding toward his protruding bulge with a wide smile.

He stared incredulously at her before his face softened into a genuine smile, and he began unbuttoning his shirt, not letting go of her gaze with a smirk.

“If that’s what you need right now... who am I to say no to you.”

Soon both of them were standing completely naked in front of each other not able to stop but admire each other’s bodies. Before Claire sidled up to Tatum. Her body brushing his, taking his hand in hers gently and pulling him down the small dock with a mix of mischief and seduce in her gaze.

“For once, you’re making my job easy,” he whispered against her lips, groaning when her free hand slipped down his bare chest, sending a shiver as she moved lower.

“Yeah? But I think I already made it hard... yep... very, very hard,” noted Claire, her fingers grazing his already very hard cock, making him hiss. Whispering the words against his lips, distracting him enough to be able to pull him into the water.

His hands instinctively went to Claire’s hips, holding her firmly against his body, while the water lapped around them. His lips finding hers slowly pulling her into the kiss. His lips brushing hers, softly, delicately. His tongue meeting hers in a sensual dance, pressing their bodies together, while his fingers dug gently into her flesh, bringing her closer to him until they finally broke apart.

Tatum’s hands wrapped protectively around her, cradling her against his warm chest. Her hand placed over his heart feeling how it was pounding a mile a minute. Both falling quite for a moment, taking in the stillness of the night. Somehow, both feeling more at peace with each other than they ever felt. After a moment Tatum finally spoke.

“Do you remember the time when you ran away from home when you were eight?” asked he quietly, wiping the trickles of water from Claire’s temple, lingering there for a moment longer, waiting for her to nod before continuing. “You packed all your favourite books. Still cannot figure out how you didn’t get tired sooner, lugging them around.” He chuckled softly looking at her tenderly. “I found you in the forest near to your house a few hours later. You were lost... hungry... and scared.”

“Tatum,” softly stopped him, Claire. Her eyes met his with such vulnerability that his heart clenched painfully in his chest. Knowing even before she could say the words, what she wanted to say.

“Claire, no... what I meant is... we all need someone looking out for us. Someone who will do anything to make us happy. I always wanted to be that person for you. I still do want to be that person. And even though the real world is dangerous, it isn’t more dangerous than the one we are living in. So it’s up to you. If and when you will be willing and ready, I'll be waiting for you. To be the one to make you happy. To look after you.”

“Thank you,” whispered Claire before sliding her arms around Tatum’s neck and passionately pressing her lips to his. He reacted instantly, pulling Claire protectively into his arms. Dipping his head to meet her lips. His hand tangled in her hair, angling her head for a deeper access, pushing his tongue past her clenched teeth. His kisses are a welcomed mix of rough and soft, of sloppy and tender, of fierce and sweet. His lips, a mixture of citrus and coffee. And his touch like flames of fire gently caressing every inch of her exposed skin.

Tatum pulled her closer until every part of Claire’s body melted into his making her head to fall back, surrendering to him completely. He caressed her cheek with one rugged hand while running the other down her side, making her gasp and moan from the way his fingertips fluttered against her skin. His kisses confident... knowing... familiar. His touches exploring... comforting... sensual. His taste intoxicating and Claire melted against his body as his hand slipped past her waist, the desire practically pulsing through him.

Suddenly, the flash of a camera illuminated Claire, jolting them apart in a panic...

“What the hell was that?” gasped Claire panting heavily, still dizzy from his kisses.

“It’s the paparazzi. And we just gave them a front-page story,” growled Tatum, drugging his hands through his dump hair.

Tagging: @choices-bound @jamespotterthefirst @mercury84choices @k2624 @thefrenchiemama @choicesreal @starrystarrytrouble @boneandfur @walkerswhiskeygirl @sophxwithers

#tatum mendoza #tatum x mc #tatum x f!mc #foreignaffairs #choices foreign affairs

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dokoni-mo · 4 years

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Far Away, Together || Darth Vader x Reader (Epilogue)

(A/N: ***warning very sappy an*** I just want to thank each and every one of you from the bottom of my heart. Before writing this, I was in one of the worst head spaces of my entire life. I was in multiple... bad, relationships before I came on tumblr, and had literally zero amounts of self-worth and respect in me. I thought I was actually meaningless and worthless, and this fic was one of the only hopes I had left in the world. If I posted this and didn’t have all the love from you guys I get, who knows what would have happened to me. And for that, I thank all of you. You guys literally saved me, and I am so honored to have each and every one of you along for the ride. I am so blessed to have people like yall in my life, and so privileged to have made friends like i have now along the way. I simply cannot thank you enough. I am very sad to see this series end, but happy that it has allowed me to start a new chapter in my life. So please, stick around. I promise I will live every day doing my best for each and every one of you. I love you 💕)

WARNINGS: some cursing, otherwise none

Key: (F/N) = first name, (L/N) = last name

Word count: ~4500

Chapter One: [x] || Chapter Two: [x]

Chapter Three: [x] || Chapter Four: [x]

Chapter Five: [x] || Chapter Five ½: [x]

Chapter Six: [x] || Chapter Seven: [x]

Chapter Eight: [x]

~~~

The thing you hated the most about your new home was the damn birds.

Deep down you were grateful for them, however, since they acted as your alarm clock. But, you would appreciate it if they could be more gentle about waking you up, rather than just them squawking outside your cottage every time the sun rose.

However, you could deal with it. It was just one of the very few cons about your new home.

The cons were far outweighed by the good.

One of the many good things about your new home was that you got to spend every second of every day with him.

Your love.

Squinting open your eyes that morning, the first thing you felt was the absence of a large, heavy figure behind your back as you lay in your plush, warm bed, a wash of sunlight acting as another blanket upon its surface. This didn’t surprise you, however, since it was only on rare occasions that he would wake up before you and lie next to you as you continued to sleep. You loved those days, but often felt bad.

This was because you weren't able to wake him up with breakfast.

Today, you guessed, was not one of those days.

Taking in a deep breath through your nose, you pushed yourself up to sit upon the bed, washing your face with invisible water as you let the sleep fall off of you. Opening your eyes fully, you turned your head to look out the window opposite of your bed. You were greeted with the same view as always: lush, green grass, a clear, blue sky, the morning sun, the trees surrounding your home, and a partial view of your self-grown garden. Smiling to yourself, you admired the familiar view as the remaining bits of sleep fell off of your shoulders, your face illuminated in the morning sunlight. As time passed, you began to dissipate into your thoughts, your hands rubbing your arms as you recalled how lucky you were to be here.

Your conscious coming back to you, you turned your head to the corner of the room. Sure enough there it was: the giant, black meditation chamber you had to scramble together upon your arrival to this planet. It had undergone many repairs and upgrades throughout the years, it's exterior adorning many patches and stitches.

You had asked him before if he wanted you to make it look more pretty.

He said no.

He said he liked how it reflected the time the two of you spent together here.

Your smile broadening for a second, you figured that he must still be asleep, since the doors to his chamber were closed. Deciding that it was the perfect time to take action, you pushed your sitting frame up to a standing position, stretching your arms as you made your way into the small kitchen that accompanied your home.

Covering your mouth to hide a yawn, you rubbed your eyes as you bend over one of your cabinets, pulling out a few pans and setting them on the stove as you turned on the fire. Pulling out some ingredients, you decided that eggs and meat with vegetables would be best for him that day.

That’ll start him off with good vitamins and such, you thought to yourself.

Watching as your body went into autopilot to start making his breakfast, your eyes glazed over as you slipped into your deepest thoughts.

Staring down at the food cooking in the pan before you, you were quietly and subtly hit with a truth. A truth you always knew, but never consciously thought about.

Years ago, you made a promise you never said out loud to your love.

To find it's source, you had to travel very far back into your memory.

Many years ago, you and him had professed your love to one another (a small smile painted your lips as you thought of this). Instead of going back to Endor, he kept you as his mechanic, and eventually finished his TIE. After the craft was repaired, you didn’t have much else to do. You spent the days fiddling around with a few things, bored out of your mind when he wasn’t there. When he was there, however, your bond only strengthened and strengthened. The two of you would talk for hours, and you had never felt happier.

That was jeopardized, however, when he came to you much more somber than normal.

Noticing his mood, you asked him what was wrong.

You couldn’t hide your shock when he told you he had a son.

Should I apply for adoption papers? You had asked him.

No. He said. It’s… complicated.

No matter how complicated it was, you told him that you would stick by him no matter what.

And you did.

Through thick and thin.

Even when things seemed the darkest.

~~~

In every sense of everything ever, Lord Vader was ready to accept his fate and die right then.

He had done what he thought to be impossible. He had created a bond with his son, and destroyed the man that had imprisoned him for many, many years.

He was injured beyond repair.

There was no mistaking the wheeze in his respirator as his son had taken off his mask.

Luke was so beautiful.

His blonde hair and big, blue eyes reminded the dark lord so much of himself when he was a boy. It surprised him that he still held onto those memories after all these years.

Lord Vader was very content with his son being the last thing he would ever see. He could feel his life slipping away by the second, but felt no fear.

He was at peace. He was content. He was…

No.

He wasn’t ready.

There was still so much he wanted to do with that girl.

That girl who’s boots were clacking at a feverish pace down the hallway.

That girl who sounded so scared calling out his name over and over.

His blue eyes softening, Lord Vader made a decision.

To fight.

For her.

Even still, he could feel consciousness slipping away from him. The lightning had done a number to his life support systems. Yet, Lord Vader still wasn’t afraid to die, for he knew that he wouldn’t.

You were capable of fixing him.

In one more way than you already have.

Upon your entrance, Lord Vader watched as his son turned his head to face your small frame, your chest heaving with big breaths and your forehead gleamed with sweat. Your eyes darted to and from Lord Vader and Luke, a look of fear and worry in your beautiful eyes. After a moment of standing in shock, you quickly assumed a kneeling position next to Luke, completely disregarding his existence.

Lord Vader didn’t blame you in the slightest.

“M-my love! Wh-What in the galaxy-” you began to say, tears forming in your eyes as your face contorted into one of worry.

He cut you off by taking your hand into his, holding it close to his heart as he gazed upon you.

“Do not fret, my sweet,” he said to you, rubbing the back of your knuckles with his thumb, “I did what had to be done.”

It took you a second to process what he was trying to tell you. He could see the gears turn in your head before your eyes widened then quickly softened. Breathing out a smile, you lifted up his hand and placed a gentle kiss upon the leather, reaching out your free hand to cup his cheek.

His pale, scarred, bare cheek.

A tear slipped down your face as you spoke, your voice soft.

“This is…” you began to say, pausing to swallow the lump in your throat, “I-It took you long enough to show me your handsome face, dear…”

For seemingly the first time in years, the faintest, tiniest smirk of a smile painted his features.

“I had to make sure you would not run away, darling.”

You breathed out a quick laugh before responding, leaning forward to press a soft hiss to his forehead then press your own to it's surface.

“Never. I would never.”

Lord Vader felt his heart swell as everything turned to black.

~~~

A pang of fear had run through you as you felt his body go limp, but it quickly subsided as you flicked your eyes down to the buttons on his stomach.

He was still alive. Relief surged through your veins as you let out a silent sigh.

You almost jumped out of your skin as the blonde-headed guy crouched next to you spoke. You had totally forgotten that he was there.

“I, umm… i-is he…?” he spoke as you shot your gaze to him.

“No, he’s not. Just unconscious, but fading.” you spoke quickly, “Here, help me get his mask back on. We need to take him to a medical bed now. Help me get him up.”

Following your order, the blonde picked up the pieces of your love’s mask and secured them back upon his head, his respirator sounding not all thatmuch better. Shifting your weight, the two of you hoisted the dark lord upon one of each of your shoulders, the pair of your grunting from his weight.

Your muscles were screaming for a break after all the running you had done coupled with the weight-lifting, but you barely felt it. Nothing but pure adrenaline running through your veins, you were focused on only one thing:

Saving your love’s life.

Eventually, you and the blonde man were able to shuffle your lover into a small medical wing and place him upon the examination table. Hurriedly, you hot-wired on the medical droid in the room, and told it to assist you with tending to the unconscious sith lord. Obeying your command, the droid immediately got to work alongside you, the blonde simply watching dumbfounded.

This caused you to purse your lips at him as you fiddled with the buttons on your lover’s stomach.

“Are you gonna help or just stand there?” you asked him, your voice cross.

He shot a wide-eyed look at you as a result of your words, his adams-apple noticeably bobbing before he spoke.

“What? I- Y-Yes, I’ll help.”

With that, the blonde joined your flurry of equipment and button-pressing, following all the orders you and the droid barked at him without any complaint. After a long while of you cursing, shouting, almost crying, and the blonde encouraging you that you could do this, the droid beeping, the equipment buzzing, and the beeps of buttons, the sith’s respirator finally returned to it's normal pace and tone. Realizing this, all three of you paused and looked at each other as you listened to make sure your ears were not deceiving you. After a moment, you shot your gaze down to the buttons that adorned your love’s stomach.

All of his vitals were normal.

He was okay.

Relief washing through you, you slumped over the sith’s body as you felt the adrenaline dissipate out of your bloodstream, the blonde backing up to the wall and sliding down it's surface into a seated position.

The two of you held these positions for a long while as the droid finished cleaning some equipment before shutting down. Hearing the whirr of the droid powering off, the blonde looked up at you, licking his lips before talking.

“I'm sorry ma’am but… who are you?”

Your ears perking up at his voice, you picked up your head to look upon the blonde man, your lips slightly parted as your chest heaved for air. Realization setting in, you quickly became aware that you didn’t know who this kid was either. Or why he was with your love, at that.

Looking at him a moment, you took in all of the man’s features, your eyes darting to scan his face. Oddly, it seemed very… familiar, to you.

His nose…

His face shape…

His lips…

Then, the kicker.

His eyes.

You had seen those eyes before.

Those beautiful, sky blue eyes.

You knew them better than you knew you own face, even if you had only seen them once before only a few minutes prior.

They were eyes you would never forget.

Your lips pressing into a small smile, your eyes softened at the young man before you, his eyes glinting slightly in confusion.

“Well,” you said, “If you are who I think you are… You may have to start calling me mom.”

~~~

You were rudely interrupted from your thoughts by the smell of vegetables becoming dangerously close to burning.

Letting out a quiet oh shit, you quickly turned off the fire to the stove, stirring the vegetables so that they wouldn't burn.

Your lips forming into a soft smile, you realized then why those memories played back for you that morning.

From that day on, you made a promise to your love, one that you never even had to say to him.

You vowed that for the rest of your days…

You would take care of him.

You hoped that it could even begin to show him how much you loved him.

Finishing up the rest of his meal, you pushed the food onto a plate, making sure that it looked appetizing. Placing a napkin under the plate and grabbing a fork and knife from the drawer, you balanced the plate, silverware, and a drink in your grasp as you walked back over to your shared bedroom.

A small smile assuming itself upon your lips, you set the breakfast on your nightstand as you walked over to his meditation chamber.

“Good morning my love,” you said as you knocked upon the metal of the glorified metal pod, pressing a few buttons on your home-made control panel to open it.

Flicking your gaze up to the inside of the chamber, your lips fell from a smile to a neutral position as your eyes absorbed what you were seeing.

Empty.

The chamber was empty.

There was no beloved sith lord within it.

Your brow furrowed. You were terribly confused. A sense of worry bubbled deep down inside of you.

What the hell? You thought to yourself.

Leaning partially into the chamber, you scanned the inside as if he was somehow hiding from you. Returning to a normal standing position, you realized how dumb that was. He would never do that. But still, you didn’t really feel dumb for it. You were worried for him.

Glancing over at his breakfast, you headed out of your room. Turning past the doorframe, you shuffled into the small living room of your cottage.

“Vee?” you called out to the sith lord. Of course, nothing came in response.

You thought about calling out his nickname again, but you decided against it. The house the two of you shared was small, so if he was there, you knew he would have heard you.

You had designed the house to accomplish exactly that goal.

After Luke had helped you save Vader’s life, you went with him to the rest of the rebel fleet. Although a lot of them looked at you with either fear or venom in their eyes, the ones you did talk to were surprisingly friendly. Leia, who you learned later on was Luke’s sister, was kind enough to give you a shuttle to take you off Endor with Vader. Of course, this was not without exception, and a lot of reasoning from Luke. You had to vow that neither you nor him would ever be seen in the public eye again.

Done and done. You had said, I have a sneaking suspicion that we’re done with politics.

With that, the two of you were sent off Endor. Finding a deserted planet to settle down wasn’t much of a challenge, since the Empire had left a lot of places in shambles.

You still remembered the flight down to the planet which you were on now.

Your home.

How about that one, dear? You had asked. The map says it's called, erm… Naboo? Weird name. Have you heard of it before?

...Let’s find another location. He had said.

Ugh, fine… you had said in response.

Ah, memories.

Upon landing, you had discovered a nice clearing of space that wasn’t too far from the wreckage of an old Star Destroyer. Being from a village who made their homes out of what was available, you were able to construct a permanent home for the pair of you in a very short amount of time, even equipped with all the necessary appliances, a garden, and even a meditation chamber for him. It was perfect. And, much more comfortable than sleeping in the shuttle you arrived in.

What do you think? You had asked him when the house was complete.

He had took your hand in response, pulling you close in a tight embrace.

Since you had designed the house, you were beginning to become very worried that you had gained no response from your love as you called his name. You had no idea where he could have gone.

Your eyes scanning the room for any signs of life, you felt a pang of aha run through you as your eyes pointed out a small detail.

The doors in your living room that led to the garden were slightly ajar.

That was certainly the next place to look.

Picking up your feet, you slowly made your way over to the doors, pushing them open just enough for you to slip your body through.

Sure enough, there he was.

The love of your life.

He stood immediately in front of the fence that lined the garden of your house, his cape fluttering in the breeze of the morning. He had assumed no special stance, but faced outwards towards the horizon of your house’s view, his long cape over his shoulders. Instead of the black it used to be, the long cloth was now a mid-toned blue, the ends of which were decorated in a gold pattern.

You had made the new cape as a celebratory gift for him long ago. Upon seeing Luke’s cybernetic hand, you were inspired. You hadn’t known the technology that went into his hand was available, but cherished that it was. Even though his nerves were severed, Luke was still able to feel touch.

You wanted the same for Vader.

The wreckage of the Star Destroyer on this planet gave you the necessary parts to create that kind of prosthetic for Vader. Over the course of many months of trial and error, you were finally able to engineer a hand for Vader that would allow him to feel again.

That was a very emotional day to say the absolute least.

A few days later, to celebrate, you made the new, blue cape for him.

Your old one was really raggedy, you had said, so I made you this one. You can tell me if you don’t like it. I won’t be offended.

My dear, he responded to you, anything you make for me, I will adorn with pride.

A smile came upon your lips as you flashed that memory in your mind.

“Vee.” You called out to the sith lord, leaning your body again the doorframe. Hearing your voice, your love turned to face you, his mask pointing down to greet your smiling face.

“(F/N).” he rumbled out in response, “Good morning, my love.”

With that, he held out his large hand to you, extending it so that you could put your own in it’s palm. Your smile became slightly bigger as you took note of how he always extended his “feeling” hand to you. Stepping forward, you placed your hand into his, assuming your spot by his side as your fingers intertwined.

“I was looking for you,” you said as you glanced up at him before gazing out upon the horizon of your new home planet, “I made your breakfast. It’s getting cold, but I can put it away if you’re not hungry.”

“I apologize for making you worry, my joy,” he said in response, rubbing the back of your knuckles with his thumb as he joined you in looking at the view, “I simply wished to admire the view.”

You quickly shot a smile up at him as you gazed out beyond your garden, your hair blowing in the breeze of the morning as you listened to the sound of the birds and his respirator.

“It's okay,” you said, “I know you wouldn’t ever run away from me.”

Vader stole a glance at you as he processed your words. Feeling his gaze on you, you shot a playful smile back up at him. Returning your gaze to the horizon, you leaned your head against his armored shoulder, making him look out to the horizon once more as well.

A long moment of silence fell over the pair of you as you breathed in time with him, a sense of peace and tranquility washing over you as you felt the muscles on his body flex and relax under his layers of leather.

Forgetting all about the meal you had prepared for him, you were the one to break the silence.

“Do you… Do you ever miss it, Vee?”

It took him a moment to respond.

“Miss what, my dear?”

Your gaze fell to his fingers intertwined with yours as you spoke.

“The Empire… and the Super Star Destroyer. Your TIE… do you ever miss it?”

Another one of his trademark pauses from him. Glancing up at him, you noticed how his mask was pointed out to seemingly nowhere, or perhaps a memory from long ago.

“Yes.” he responded.

“Really?” you breathed out, a hint of a chuckle in your tone, “Why?”

Another pause. You had begun to think he wouldn’t answer before he finally responded.

“Because… It was there that our love came to be.” he said, “And now we can never return.”

You breathed out another smile at his answer, nuzzling your head against his shoulder affectionately.

“Funny… That’s why I miss it too.”

Squeezing your hand tighter, Vader continued to look out upon the surface of the planet, committing every detail to this memory.

You again broke the silence that came over the pair of you.

“I want you to try out a prototype I have of your other hand today,” you said, your voice a bit softer than normal, “It looks promising… but I want to make sure it’s comfortable for you first.”

“I am sure that it will be excellent,” Vader responded, shifting his gaze to you, “I have full faith in your abilities, mechanic.”

Stifling out a chuckle, you looked up at your love with a smile, your free hand pressed to your forehead in a joking salute.

“I appreciate the compliment, my Lord.”

Gazing at you a moment longer, Lord Vader returned his gaze to the view, you following suit as another pause loomed over you and your love.

You had not completely forgotten about his breakfast as he broke the silence.

“(F/N)... how do you think Luke is doing? And… and Leia?”

You looked up at him briefly in surprise. It wasn’t often he talked about his children, and even less often about his past. You knew it pained him to do so, but always received his softness with open arms.

You loved him. And every piece of baggage that came with him.

“I’m sure they’re both fine, dear,” you responded, snuggling yourself closer to him for support, “If they needed us, they would come to us… But still, they’re both very strong. And independent. I’m sure they’re just fine out there.”

Another pause from him. You could almost hear the gears turn in his armored head.

“I suppose you are right.” was all he said in response.

Ordinarily, you wold respond in some sort of quip or joke to something like this. However, you knew better than to play shits-and-giggles in one of these rare times of his softness. You decided to give a kiss to the back of his hand instead, your lips warm and in a soft smile.

“Come on, how about we go inside?” you offered, suddenly remembering his meal, “I’ll heat up your breakfast again and we can relax together for a little while. How does that sound?”

Without taking his gaze off the horizon, your love responded to you.

“Nothing in this galaxy,” he said, “sounds more enjoyable, my darling.”

Your eyes twinkling in adoration and your lips curving into a brighter smile, you rested your head upon his armored shoulder again, hugging his strong, muscular arm close to you.

In that moment, the two of you were absolutely, totally, positively inseparable.

“I love you, Vee.” you whispered out, your heart swelling for the sith lord at your side.

And you were.

Not one bone in your body, not one atom didn’t love that man.

It took him a second to say anything in response, but you didn’t mind at all.

“...Anakin.”

Looking up at him, you had thought you had misheard him. You recognized what he had said was a name, but you didn’t know of anyone by it. Nor were you aware that he knew anyone by that name.

You were perplexed.

“What, love?” you asked, beckoning him to clarify.

Without a word, Vader took his gaze off of the horizon, settling it on your face instead. Never in his life had he seen someone as breathtakingly gorgeous as you. He relished in the fact that he knew your beauty was, in fact, not skin-deep.

To him, you were perfect in every way.

To him, you were his savior.

To him, you were his treasure.

And as he took your face into his hands oh so gently, he gazed upon you and held you with every ounce of love he had for you in his body. Watching you as you smiled up at him with that hint of confusion still in your eyes, he knew.

He would never again feel pain.

He would never again be scared.

He would never again be a slave.

He would never again fight a war.

He would never again hate.

He would never again feel anger.

He, instead, would only spend the rest of his days…

In pure, absolute love…

With you.

“That was… That is my real name, darling.” he continued, “Anakin... Skywalker.”

You could have sworn you felt the ground beneath you fade away as he finished. Your heart swelling inside your chest, all you could do was breathe out smile after smile as you gazed up at him, your hands planted upon the broad expanse of his chest.

You knew then how in love the two of you were.

You knew then you and him would never be apart ever again.

This was no machine standing before you; you knew that for a long time.

But now solidified it.

The man you had come to love and cherish with every fiber of your being…

Was exactly that.

A man.

Your voice was barely above a whisper as your reached up to his neck, gently pulling his head down so that you could rest your forehead upon his as you closed your eyes.

“I love you, Anakin Skywalker.” you breathed.

“And I love you, (F/N) (L/N). More than you will ever know.”

~~~

TAGS: @spaghetti-666 , @soullesstaco , @arsonistvoyager , @robin-obsessed , @glitter-rian , @captainrexstan , @easterncryptid , @deviatedwinter , @roseangel013bf , @danicalifxrnia , @dartheldur , @finest-trashbag , @yeah-boiiiiiiiiiii , @elongatedmusk-rat , @shads121 , @muffinbeliever , @sakuramadae , @padme-parker , @khapikat222 , @the-official-memester , @rens-angel , @obiwankenobiness , @yvette1703 , @missmannequin , @breakfastpizzagalaxy , @clearnostolgia , @scarletsinsandsnowwithetragedies

#darth vader #darth vader x reader #fanfiction #anakin x you #anakin skywalker #anakin x reader #star wars fanfiction #star wars #star wars x reader #star wars x you #star wars fanfic

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free-pool-trash · 4 years

Text

talking too fast - peter maximoff

this is my first peter maximoff fic, i actually really liked writing for him and i wouldn’t mind doing some more for him and maybe even warren if you guys would want that? idk this blog is kinda dead rn but i liked this request/idea a lot so show it some love if you like it <3

comments and reblogs are appreciated <3

Request: Can you do like fake dating that end up in real love or something idk big cliché for our speedy boy. 'cause why tf not ksjdjdn

Word count: 3.7K (Jesus ok)

warning(s): swearing(it’s me, are we shocked? no), kinda angsty tbh, everyones a lil insecure but don’t worry it’s happy to end :)

(gifs not mine! he’s so cute oh my)

Peter Maximoff always had a tendency to go fast. That much could be seen in literally everything about him. The way he moved, the way he thought and if he was excited enough or angry enough, the way he spoke. You, of course, figured all of this out the hard way.

It had started out innocently enough, some of the younger guys, mainly Scott, had made fun of Peter for not having a girlfriend, Peter, in response to the teasing told them that he did. He definitely didn't, but they didn't need to know that. And that's how you found yourself in your current predicament.

Peter was sprawled out on your bed, his legs hanging off the foot of the bed as he whined, “(Y/n) please! I need to prove I have a hot girlfriend!"

Not looking up from the work you were doing at your desk, you laughed at him, "But Pete, you don't have a hot girlfriend."

The silver haired boy sighed audibly, lifting himself to sit up on your bed, at the same moment you spun around in your seat to face him.

"Nooooo…" He drew out and you shook your head in agreement, "No." You confirmed.

"But!" Peter shouted, pointing an accusing finger at you, a cheeky grin on his lips and his dimples peaking through.

"I do have a hot best friend!" He stated, wiggling his eyebrows at you, his grin turning pleading.

Peter was your best friend, ever since he'd joined the school of mutants he immediately became your favourite person and soon enough he'd claimed your best friend position. And vice versa.

You knew him better than he knew himself. So you also knew exactly what he was suggesting and you wouldn't lie and say that you never entertained the idea of being in a relationship with your doe eyed best friend, because you have, you've thought about it, you've thought about it way too much.

For that reason you shook your head furiously at what he was insinuating, "Pete, no."

He huffed, jumping off the bed and speeding infront of you, his eyes boring into yours.

"Come on, sweetheart! It's not like we don't act like we're dating already, it's foolproof!" He reasoned and you couldn't dispute that you and Peter did act like a couple, and often got mistaken as already being a couple.

But still, you just couldn't put yourself through that sort of emotional stress, you wouldn't do it for a total stranger so you definitely wouldn't do it for your best friend who you've been harboring a huge crush on for the bones of a year.

The risks it posed for your heart and your friendship with the speedster were just too high.

You couldn't help the laugh that fell from your throat as you watched Peter Maximoff, king of pranks and master of meaningless flirtations literally graveling on his knees in front of the chair you were sitting on.

"Peter just because we cuddle in the common room and you call me 'sweetheart' sometimes does not mean we act like a couple." right?

You told him only to be met by a frustrated whine, "Come on! I'm begging you! Just for like a week! Just to prove that I can get a hot girl to date me!"

You stayed silent, looking at him expressionlessly. Don't give in.

"Please!" He pressed again. Don't.

"Pretty please! Hey, I'll even let you set the ground rules??? Huh???" He tried to persuade you, although he was speeding through every word he said, if you weren't used to him you probably wouldn't have caught half of what he was saying.

Don't. Fucking. Do. It.

His hands grabbed yours as he pulled you both up into standing position, he held your hands softly and gave you the puppy dog eyes that he knew always made you almost melt before releasing a final pleading, "Please?"

Furrowing your eyebrows you let out the most dramatic sigh you could muster, but you couldn't hide the small smile growing on your lips "Fine, but you owe me."

You're a fucking idiot. You scolded yourself silently. But how could you ever say no when he looks at you like you're the answer to everything? God you were more screwed than you thought.

"Yes! God I love my girlfriend!" He told you excitedly, pulling you in for a tight hug and kissing your cheek.

When Peter left your room that night your head was spinning and you couldn't be sure how things would go tomorrow.

Maybe you were overthinking it? You'd hold his hand for a few minutes and try and convince a bunch of sixteen years olds that your best friend could successfully obtain a girlfriend and then that would be it. But did you really want that to be it? No, you wanted more, but that you already knew.

You'd set some ground rules with Peter to "protect the sanctity of our friendship" to which he'd laughed, but in reality the rules were to protect you from your own feelings.

Rule 1) No Kissing on the lips unless absolutely necessary

Rule 2) The lie would only be told to the students and not any of your colleagues (because you knew Peter's first stop would be rubbing your fake relationship in Warren Worthington III's face, they had some kind of light-hearted competition going on, you don't really know what it's about but you made it very clear to your best friend that you wanted no part in it.)

Rule 3) Peter cannot make comments about your fake sex life

Rule 4) You had to wear an item of Peter's clothing to, in his words, "really sell the story."

And the final rule was, of course, no telling anybody it wasn't real.

The next day you and Peter walked hand and hand toward the common room where you could already hear Scott, Kurt, Jubilee and Jean chatting and having fun.

"You're so immature you know that, babe" You whisper quietly to your "boyfriend" while bumping his shoulders with your own which was clad in the material of his silver jacket.

Abiding by the rules was all you were doing, you definitely weren't enjoying the way the sleeves were slightly too long so they covered your hands as far as your knuckles, or the way his scent covered you, that cologne he always wore which you happened to love the smell of and you definitely weren't enjoying the fact that despite the jacket being about two sizes too big for you it seemed to just fit. No, definitely not, you were just following Peter's rule.

He only laughed, "What's immature about wanting to show off my beautiful, stunning, hot, loving, smart, talented-"

You had to cut him off before he could say the word "girlfriend" because you weren't his girlfriend, and hearing it would surely make you want to cry, right there in the hallway.

"Alright Romeo, I've already agreed to your babyish plan to psych out some teenagers, you don't have to butter me up."

As you entered the common room, Peter's face broke into a mischievous grin and you had a deep feeling in your stomach that this little show was going to go way too far. Hoping that this wouldn't be the end of your little show wasn't serving you very well at the moment.

You were absolutely screwed.

"Hey, nerds." Peter called out, pulling you into the room slightly behind him.

"Seriously, Maximoff? (Y/n)?" Scott asked as soon as he noticed your linked hands, his voice was disbelieving, you were a little offended honestly.

What's wrong with me? You wondered, if a pubescent sixteen year old boy could find faults in you maybe Peter was seeing the same things? Maybe that's why he doesn't really want you to be his girlfriend.

It seemed Peter noticed your panicked train of thought as he let go of your hand and wrapped an arm around your shoulder protectively, "What's that supposed to mean, Summers?"

One of the things you loved about Peter was that he always defended you, even if you don't need defending he always has your back. But now wasn't the time to think about that, you could obsess about the feelings you so desperately try to hide for him later.

Noticing the growing irritation between the older 'couple' Scott shook his head, "No, nothing! (Y/n)'s hot, it's just, you two definitely aren't a thing."

At least they don't think I'm ugly, I guess.

He stated, crossing his arms as the other teens nodded in agreement. All except Jean who was looking at you suspiciously.

"Why not?" Peter asked, raising an eyebrow.

As the two boys entered what was essentially a pissing contest about how Peter couldn't handle you which turned into how Scott couldn't handle Jean and as it went on and on, Jean entered your head.

'You're not really dating are you?' she asked you, something hiding in her voice, a question within a question, there was something more she wanted to say.

'Why's me and Peter being together so hard to believe?' You asked her in response, sure Jean was a telepath but you've mastered the art of manipulating what she could see when she peaked in your mind, which is probably why she was so confused.

Not that you really had anything to hide from her, what you felt for the man arguing with the teen in the middle of the common room was genuine and authentic, but better safe than sorry.

'It's just… Don't you think you could do a little better?" She pushed and then you understood that had been what she really wanted to ask in the first place.

The question made you angry, how quick they were to lessen Peter's worth. This wasn't just an issue with the younger X-Men, but with the older ones too. It seemed that nobody could appreciate Peter Maximoff for the amazing person and mutant that he is. You knew it made him insecure, he'd confided in you on so many different occasions about his self worth and because of this you'd developed a need to throw hands with anyone that treated him like a joke.

He saw himself as a loser, so he let people treat him like one.

Before you could respond to Jean's question you were interrupted by Peter whining in your ear, "Baaaaaabe, tell these guys we're together!"

Letting out a sigh to calm yourself, hiding your angry string of thoughts from Jean was exhausting, you let a small smile settle over your face and wrapped both your arms around Peter's middle, if they wanted a show you'd give them one.

"Okay kids, Peter and I are dating, we have been for the past while. We didn't say anything because we wanted to keep it on the down low but since it's out there now, yes, we are in fact, a couple." You confirmed, confidence clear in your voice, you were asserting the facts.

Peter nodded in agreement, a smug smile on his face, he looked so proud to call you his girlfriend and you felt a pang in your chest when you reminded yourself that it was only for show.

"How'd he manage to get a girl like you though? I don't get it." Scott piped up again and you couldn't hide the exhausted expression that crossed your face.

It got to Peter, the blatant disbelief towards him, you could tell his face fell ever so slightly before he regained his composure. So you squeezed him a little tighter.

"Well, he's sweet, he's caring, he's loyal, he knows me pretty much better than I know myself, he makes me smile and laugh, he knows exactly what to do when I'm sad and sure, sometimes he can be a little much and a huge pain in the ass but it's worth it." You told the group, squeezing Peter with every word you said, smiling at the little "hey" he let out when you called him a pain in the ass, the way he was looking down at you was so pure and loving that you completely forgot to remind yourself that it was just make believe.

Your description of your fake-but-wish-it-was-real-boyfriend received an "aww" from Jubilee and a smile from Kurt, Jean and Scott however, still looked apprehensive.

Keeping the red head out of your business was giving you a headache.

"Prove it." Scott challenged as you and Peter looked at each other in confusion, how were you supposed to prove it? These kids sure were ballsy.

"Kiss." Jean added and you couldn't physically stop your eyes from rolling and your lips from forming a smirk.

You were about to break your biggest rule, but you didn't care. The whole interaction with the teens had brought Peter's self-esteem way down and you could predict he'd be crying on your shoulder because of it later on tonight. You weren't going to deny him a kiss and you absolutely weren't going to embarrass him in front of Scott fucking Summers.

"Ok." You removed your arms from around Peter's middle and brought one hand to his cheek and let the other tangle in his Silver hair, he didn't miss a beat, immediately he pulled you flush against him and placed his hands on your hips, his movements were deliberate as if he'd been imagining kissing you for as long as you'd been imagining kissing him. You pushed that thought away, the truth that he didn't think about you that way hurt too much.

His lips met yours and you could've sworn you felt sparks flying from where your lips connected. The kiss was short but it was passionate and really, really, really good. His lips were chapped but soft and the way that they moved in sync with your own sent your head spinning and your heart flipping.

When you pulled away, Peter's lips chased yours and you giggled as he placed pecks on your lips multiple times before he finally allowed you to push him away.

If you weren't so caught up in the moment you would've cried, that was everything you've been wanting for so long, but it wasn't real. You didn't think about it though, it would get a chance to bring a tear to your eye later. When you're alone.

"Alright you're dating, Jesus, get a room." Scott scowled as he scrunched up his face in disgust at the display of affection he and his own girlfriend had demanded.

Laughing, you grabbed Peter's hand in yours and began walking back towards his room, you didn't feel like answering any more awkward questions and you needed a minute to recover from Jean's constant attempts to get into your subconscious.

Once you'd both entered Peter's room and shut the door behind you, you finally let your guard down with a loud sigh, flopping down on Peter's bed and throwing an arm across your eyes to block out the light.

"Jean's mind poking really is relentless huh?" Peter said, flopping down beside you.

"Tell me about it. She's persistent as fuck." You laughed, turning your head to look at Peter, who was already looking at you.

"That no kissing rule didn't last too long, couldn't resist?" Peter asked jokingly but you could tell that he wanted to know what caused you to abandon your number one rule.

Chewing on your cheek, you debated on whether or not you should spill all or just tell him what he needed to know at this moment in time. Going this the latter you sighed again.

"They were being assholes, I wasn't gonna embarrass you by saying no, was I?" Peter's smile was soft but it didn't reach his eyes, your voice was quiet when you added, "Besides, you looked like you needed a kiss."

His face was now turned to the ceiling with a thoughtful look adorning his features.

As you both laid side-by-side on the unmade double bed, close enough that your arms were touching but not close enough for your fingers to be intertwined, you, a hopeless romantic, hopelessly falling for your best friend as you wear his favorite jacket and lay on his bed. And Peter who looked like he was trying to figure out the universe's greatest mystery. As you laid with each other, a heavy silence settled over you both, until Peter turned his face back to you, his eyebrows furrowed.

"Can I ask you something, (Y/n)?" Nodding wordlessly, you turned your entire body to face him, so that you were laying on your side.

"Am I really that bad?" He asked, his brown eyes staring into yours.

"What do you mean?" You asked him, you knew where this conversation was about to go, but he had a lot to say and you wanted to let him let it all out.

"All those guys back there, they didn't think I could really be your boyfriend… and hey they're probably right, you could do better. But is it really that unbelievable that someone could love me?" His last question came out cracked and tears filled his chestnut eyes.

Your own eyebrows furrowed now, you put your hand on his face and brushed the tear that slipped from his eye away. "No, Pete. What's unbelievable to me is that people can't see how fucking incredible you are." You told him, your emotions coming through in your voice, anger and sadness taking over.

"No," Peter shook his head, again returning his face to look at the ceiling before he went on, "they're right, I couldn't get a girl, especially not one like you."

That hurt, you have to admit that it hurt you so bad to hear him talk so badly about himself but what hurt most was the fact that Peter didn't want a girl that was you, no, just one that was like you.

"You have a girl like me, Pete." You reminded him sadly, turning your own face to the ceiling.

Who knew one outing as a fake couple would be all it took to make you fall apart? You did, you knew from the beginning.

Peter was upset, it was obvious by the way he spoke next, too fast and before he thought.

"No, I don't, not really. You're this incredible, pretty girl. You're talented and your mutation is useful and everyone loves you! I'm just this loser who people don't take seriously and pretty soon you're going to realize that and just leave like everyone else."

The pit of your stomach has never felt so deep before, it was so clear to you now, in his voice, it was there, he didn't trust you to stay. And that fact hurt more than any heartbreak of rejection ever could.

Sitting up on the bed, you looked down at him, fighting the tears that were attempting to gather in your eyes.

"I know you're not a loser, Peter. I know you're incredible and talented and maybe the best friend I've ever had. But if you think I'm shallow enough to leave you behind, for some preppy asshole, you really don't trust me as much as I trust you." You finished, tears falling freely as you got off of the bed and made your way toward the door before he sped infront of you, standing between you and the door.

His eyes were wide, like a deer caught in headlights, "That's not what I meant to say!"

You didn't say anything, just stared at him, tears falling and waiting for him to say his piece.

"I trust you more than anyone, you know everything about me, I'm sorry my mouth was going too fast and it came out all wrong." He was still rushing through his words but he took a deep breath before going on again.

"What I was trying to say is," he swallowed thickly, he was nervous, scared even, "you're amazing, you're my best friend and I've had this scenario running in my head of maybe being more than just friends. But I was afraid if I told you and you didn't feel the same you'd leave because of how awkward it would be."

Your heart was pounding, if you had a few broken ribs after this conversation you wouldn't be surprised, "oh."

"And when I suggested you be my fake girlfriend you were so reluctant that I figured I never had a shot. But then we kissed and I just can't come to terms with a kiss like that meaning nothing." He told you, hands finding yours, carefully.

This time it was you who was speaking before thinking, "I'm in love with you."

Hearing the words fall out of your mouth, your eyes widened, months of trying to hide the fact and you managed to let it slip out into the open without it even crossing your mind first.

Taking a shaky breath you decided to speak again and hopefully ease Peter out of the shocked state your declaration put him in.

"I didn't wanna fake date you because I wanted to real date you and I was afraid it would hurt too much. That kiss, it was real for me, I had kinda been wanting to do it for a while." You confessed to him, squeezing his hands that were still holding onto yours.

A smile overtook his face, his dimples showing and his eyes brightening, his face was lit up with what seemed like pure happiness like a puppy who's owner just got home from work.

"I love you too."

Oh thank God.

"I knew you couldn't resist." He added shooting you a cheeky wink before he pulled you against his chest, his face was so close to yours, your noses touched and his lips met yours again.

This time was different, though. It was real and you both knew it and both wanted it.

His fingers intertwined with yours as he pulled his lips away from yours, his boyish smile coming back as he rested his forehead against yours.

"So, um, do you maybe wanna be my girlfriend, like really be my girlfriend?" He asked, still nervous about asking you despite the fact you'd both just made your feelings toward each other perfectly clear.

"I'd love to." You replied, connecting your lips to his again.

Safe to say, fake dating Peter turned into a total shit show but you're really glad it did.

let me know what you think <33

#peter maximoff #peter maximof x reader #x-men #x-men x reader #evan peters #evan peters x reader #x-men days of future past #peter maximoff imagine #x reader #marvel #mcu #mcu x reader

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rena-rain · 4 years

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UPDATED Reverse Crush Origins!

There were a couple problems with how I posted this originally, so after some character analysis I changed some stuff and I like it better now. I hope you guys do too!.

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“So, you’re friends with Chloe, huh?” The boy sitting next to him gave Adrien a bored, disapproving look. He was taken aback; was being Chloe’s friend a bad thing around here? He’d always assumed she must be popular at school. He looked around to see her and her friend Sabrina sticking a wad of chewing gum onto the seat across the aisle from his.

He stood up. “Hey! What’s that all about?” Adrien hated getting on her bad side, but this just seemed…gross.

“The brats that sat here yesterday need a little attitude adjustment. I’m just commanding a little bit of respect, that’s all.”

“Respect? Are you kidding me?” The demand came from a high, feminine voice behind Adrien. He turned and instinctively sank back into his seat. Two girls stood fuming in the doorway. The one with red and brown hair sent a murderous glare in Chloe’s direction, and her friend, an Asian girl with iridescent blue eyes and pigtails the color of midnight, stalked forward. “You know what, Chloe? Your attitude is the one that needs adjusting. I’m not putting up with your bullying anymore, whether it’s at me or Ivan or anybody else around here!”

“Ugh.” Chloe leaned dramatically toward Adrien. “You see, Adrikins, what I have to put up with in this place?”

Adrien couldn’t believe his ears.

The girl crossed her arms defiantly. “Don't you dare try to play the victim here. You're not going to scare me anymore, Chloe, so next time you try to pick on anyone in this school again - Ivan or Juleka or Mylene or anybody else - remember that from now on, you'll have to go through me first."

For a second Adrien swore he saw fear in Chloe's eyes. Then that nasty sneer was back. "Oh, please, who do you think you are, Duapin-Cheng? Nobody can grow a spine overnight, least of all you."

"You know what I think?” The girl took her friend by the hand and they parked themselves at the desk behind him. “Your gum, your seat. I’m taking my desk back.”

“WHAT? You can’t do that!”

“Actually, we can,” The other girl said. “After all, all that is necessary for the triumph of evil – ”

“ – is that good people do nothing.” They fist-bumped and the rest of the class laughed and cheered. Chloe sat down on the right side of the abandoned desk, leaving Sabrina to scoot as far away from the gum as she could.

Adrien blinked in wide-eyed amazement. He wasn't sure what exactly just happened, but he'd never seen anyone stand up for themself like that. Stand up for other people like that. This school was blessed with its own guardian angel. He would gladly go blind just to see her on a righteous warpath.

“Whoa,” Adrien’s desk mate said. “I’ve never seen Marinette shut her down like that.”

Marinette. That was her name. It made electricity arc through his fingertips and his heart pound. “She’s amazing,” he mused.

“You cannot be friends with both Chloe and Marinette, dude. They’re like, mortal enemies.”

Adrien sagged. “It’s just… Chloe’s the only friend I’ve ever had. I’ve known her since we were little kids. She’s abrasive, but…” He glanced at the guy, who gave him a single raised eyebrow. He sighed. “I had no idea she was this awful with other people.”

Several beats of silence passed where Adrien just stared forlornly at the wood in front of him. The next words he heard surprised him.

“I’m Nino, and it’s time for you to make some new friends, dude.” Nino offered Adrien a hand. Smiling, he shook it.

“Leave it to the professionals, you already failed once.”

Marinette’s breath hitched. She turned around to look at Stoneheart still holding Mylene in his fist. “He’s right, you know. If I’d captured his akuma in the first place, none of this would’ve happened! I knew I wasn’t the right person for this job.”

“No.” Marinette looked up at Chat Noir. “He’s wrong, because without you, she’d no longer be here. And without us, none of these people stand a chance. We’ll prove that to them.”

She didn't know what to say. "I - "

He placed two gentle hands on her shoulders and bored into her with his bright green cat eyes. “I know how you feel, Ladybug. I'm scared of messing up too - I wasted my power yesterday and nearly blew the fight. But you and I are a team and I know we can do this together. Trust me, okay?”

Mari – Ladybug felt her face heat up. Chat Noir’s gaze was so sharp but so soft at the same time, like he could see into her soul without hurting her at all. She finally understood what the poets meant by 'the eyes are the windows to the soul;' Chat's exposed, gentle sincerity could have drowned her. She felt his support and his confidence flow into her body, making her feel like she could take on the entire world. When she spoke her voice cracked. “Oka – okay.”

She would have completely zoned out in his adorable jade eyes if it weren’t for Stoneheart’s grumbling roar from the Eiffel Tower.

Ladybug felt all gooey inside when Mylene gave Ivan a huge hug. “Aw, they’re so made for each other.”

“And they’re together now. All thanks to you, LB.” Chat Noir smiled that cute, playful little smile of his, and Ladybug kind of wanted to kiss it off his face. The thought surprised her and sent her heart thumping. She squeaked a little when he gently shoulder-bumped her. "That was an awesome speech. You've made everyone in Paris feel safe again after getting attacked by a freaking supervillain. I told you you could do it."

At his praise, Ladybug blushed so hard she felt sure her face now matched her suit. She was saved by Chat Noir's Miraculous beeping.

“Whoops, looks like we gotta split, see you next time, kitty!” She didn’t wait for his reaction to her word vomit before she swung away from him and over the rooftops. If this new fluttery feeling in her stomach was a crush it was going to be an unbearable one. She didn’t even know who Chat Noir was!

Marinette wished she could call Alya about this.

Adrien walked into class the next day. He paused at his seat, about to say hi to Marinette. She wasn’t looking at him, and he chickened out and sat down without a word. Nino looked between them and nudged him with his elbow.

“You should go talk to her.”

Adrien blushed. “What?”

Nino lowered his voice. “Marinette. If you like her, you should go for it.”

“But what do I say?”

“Just be yourself, man. She’s super easy to talk to, literally everyone likes her.”

Everyone? He glanced back behind him, where Marinette and Alya were laughing over something on her phone. She held herself with such genuine ease it made him jealous; she probably didn’t have to pretend a day in her life. Remembering the way she’d smirked at Chloe from behind that same desk made his heart flutter and he turned away before she could catch him staring.

Adrien was used to being pushed around by Chloe. Like with his father and tutors and photographers, he just learned to bite his tongue and ride it out. But yesterday, watching Marinette put her foot down and tell her no, you will not treat me or my friends like this - it was like getting struck by lightning.

Marinette probably had tons of friends already. But…it was worth a try.

By the time school ended it was raining outside. Marinette was in the doorway, looking dismayed, when he approached her. “Hey. Marinette, right?”

She raised her chin and side-eyed him, one eyebrow quirking upward. “Aren’t you Chloe’s boyfriend?”

The question actually made him choke. His cheeks burned. “Wha – no, no, god no, she’s just a friend.”

“Why are you friends with her? You don’t seem like a bad guy.”

“She’s…” Adrien got caught up in Marinette’s skeptical expression. She looked guarded. He wondered how long Chloe had been picking on her that his mere association was a major strike against him. “We grew up together. I’ve never been to school before. I’ve hardly been around kids my own age, so it was be friends with Chloe or be alone.”

He sighed and opened his umbrella, gesturing for her to walk with him. Sharing the meager shelter while they walked down the steps meant he could feel the warmth from her body right next to his. “So you’ve never had any other friends?” she asked.

“Not really.”

They stopped when they reached his car. She faced him, and that put her captivating eyes about a foot away from him. Adrien resigned himself to having permanently red cheeks from here on out.

“I think you need better friends. Adrien, right?”

“Right.”

She held out her hand between them. “Well, then. It’s very nice to meet you, Adrien.”

He took her hand and, on an out-of-nowhere impulse, kissed it. “Lovely to meet you as well, Marinette.”

Marinette giggled at the gesture.

Flustered, he asked, “Do you need a ride home?”

“Don’t worry about it; I live at the bakery next door. It’s not even a block away.”

He hesitated. “Well, if you’re sure. Here.” He handed his umbrella to her. “It’s still not fun to walk in the rain. You can borrow it if you’d like.”

Marinette graced him with the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen. “Thanks, Adrien. I promise I’ll give it back to you tomorrow.”

“Sounds good. Um, see you tomorrow?”

“See you tomorrow.” She turned away and Adrien leapt into the car before he got soaked. The Gorilla blessedly ignored whatever just happened, but Plagg decided to stick his head out of Adrien’s shirt to smirk coyly at him. He shoved the kwami back into his hiding place.

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og-danny-dorito · 4 years

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[ Tanjiro Headcanons To Fuel The Fluff/Angst Tank ]

He Is Baby™ thank you very much and i love him with my whole heart

- hi hello i would like to share my thoughts on this baby cause i love him v much

- he gives me the vibe that he would def love anything strawberry related. like strawberry milk, strawberry shortcake, strawberry yogurt- the list goes ON

- he would eat them more often if they weren't so godamn expensive, and most of the time you can only find those kinds of products when in the city and he mostly travels through the woods rather than through heavily populated areas. he does get them when he can though, and usually has some stocked up when he and nezuko leave rural areas

- thats not the only fruit he likes though! hes also a huge fan of cherries but he gets those even less since they're even MORE expensive. he also very much likes mint chocolate chip icecream! something about the clash of dark chocolate and refreshing mint is just so good to him, and usually he’ll try to look for that specific flavor if theres any icecream places nearby. my basis for that?

- thankfully though he doesnt really buy things from others since he just gets most of his food from the surrounding forest. you see, tanjiro literally lived in the woodlands for most of his early life before the whole 'incident', so hes accustomed to being more of a hunter-gatherer when it comes to those sorts of things

- he knows a whole bunch of stuff about forest plants and topography for that reason specifically, and can make food out of pretty much nothing due to having to go through some rough winter times that required scavenging

- overall though hes a pretty good cook! his father and mother both liked to cook and bake and all that before they died, and, being eager to help and learn, he usually watched them when they did or asked to help with preparing the food

- he actually probably has a lot of domestic skills, now that i think about it. things like sewing up ripped clothing or repairing damaged items are almost muscle memory to him since he was raised to value what he had and not aimlessly spend his money due to his humble beginnings

- he’s actually more comfortable with simple things rather than lavish ones since thats what he grew up with. being a demon slayer means that he does get commissioned to do things sometimes or paid for it, but he usually gives most of his money to poeple who need it after spending some of what he has on more efficient and useful things like better fabric for clothes and repairs for things that he doesn't have the skill set to fix himself

- due to this humble attitude he has for things, he barely ever really treats himself to things he enjoys. he usually puts others before himself and thus forgets about his own needs, leading him to often deny taking care of himself if he deems to 'not have enough time' or 'not being important enough”

- usually forcing him to sit down and eat or at least take a moment to drink some tea can calm his nerves a ton, even if its only just for a second

- i'm pretty sure that his favorite drink is green tea (or strawberry milk), actually. its just so naturally calming and relaxing that he usually uses it as a staple for calming himself down or taking a breather from the stressful life he's lead so far

- for someone that barely takes care of himself hes awfully adamant about others taking acare of themselves. oh, you haven't slept in three days because of work? guess what you're going to sleep right now. no, dont Mention how he keeps moving even though he should be in bed because of a broken rib, your needs come first now go to sleep

- deeefinitely the mom friend type in more ways then one. its p obvious that he already takes care of Nezuko, Zenitsu and Inosuke as good friends of his, but hes kinda adamant on taking care of them almost like they're younger than him or something. this doesnt mean that they can’t take care of themselves of course, he just kinda feels the natural instinct to protect people he values if he can (mainly due to the fear that he’ll suddenly loose them without making it clear he cares about them first but we will unpack that suitcase LATER in the list)

-for that reason i can safely say that he's probably fantastic with kids because of his gentle nature. hes just so soft and pure that children naturally feel calm around him? its weird how like a baby will literally stop crying in a city full of people just because they saw tanjiro wave and smile at them and as SOON as hes out of eyesight they start crying again. also tanjiro holding a baby? you CANNOT tell me this man wouldnt softly sing some lullaby he remembers from his childhood to a child cradled in his arms, fast asleep. and the smile he gives to the person who finds him like that is BLINDING i cannot comprehend the purity-

-the EXACT same thing goes for animals. its straight up canon that he understands (to an extent) what birds are saying when they're chirping to one another, so its probably safe to assume that he might understand a little bit of what other animals may be saying when they communicate

- yet another effect of living in the forest most of his life and being way too observant at his age :p

- when dogs bark he responds to them out of instinct, knowing what they mean. when some pig just randomly snorts at him don't be surprised when he just says "oh, thank you!" in the most earnest tone possible because he probably knows what the animal said and is responding to it honestly. answering like he's pretending to know what it means would be dishonest, and thats too out of character for the sunshine boy

-its also gotta be mentioned that tanjiro physically rejects the concept of being dishonest. i swear to god I'm not making this up- when hes lying its so easy to tell because his face is physically rejecting the concept that hes not being sincere

-this goes for pretty much anything- he cant really blatantly lie without shifting in place or making a weird expression. its no expection that when asked about his feelings that he can barely keep a straight face by saying that he's "okay"

-theres just so much pent up grief and sorrow for so many things that its hard to really say that he's "just fine" or "alright" some days. the accumulation of trauma and guilt has lead up to this constant dread boiling in the pit of his stomach that he'll fail one day, and this would've been all for nothing

-he'll die one day without his goals being met, without Nezuko being healed, without his friends safe, without so many things that he thought he could fix that will eat him up until he fixes them. he doesn't have frequent depressive episodes all that often anymore since Sakonji helped him with that (kind of, it was kind of a group effort by his other superiors, the Pillars, too with some reassurance and advice since a good portion have Been There Done That with the survivor’s guilt and the like) in terms of teaching him how to meditate more frequently and search for positive outlets for his negative feelings. he helped him accept that it was okay to feel bad about it, but he couldn't give up, no matter what. because “What worth was your dream if you just gave up in the end?”

-and so he doesn't. he never gives up, on anything. he refuses to give up when his friends are in danger and the odds are against him, or when hes face to face with an eldritch demon who's been alive longer than the numbers he can count. tanjiro is incredibly persistent in his efforts, big or small, and makes a conscious decision every time to not abandon what he worked for because the phrase "What worth was your dream if you just gave up in the end?" motivates him to be better than who he was yesterday and try his best to reach his dreams

- because of this he's a heavy believer that most people can change. i say most because I'm pretty sure he knows Muzan will never change, or some of the other terrible people in the world. he's accepted over time that he can’t help everyone, but he'll be damned if he doesn't try his hardest in figuring ot if they are truly, genuinely, capable of being better. so he's incredibly supportive of people who actually do make efforts to improve themselves because he knows how hard it is to come from such a bad situation/bad mindset and reteach good values and habits

- that doesn't mean that poeple are expempt from their punishments of course- everyone deserves the consequences of their actions to be better to know what to improve on, but he has sympathy for the poeple who's consequences stop their lives short (example, countless demons that he feels terrible for because they came from really bad situations)

-since he knows how hard it is to improve on anything- he’s very very supportive to people who do that for themselves or for others. in fact, he would go out of his way for about anyone to make their life a little better but if he sees someone struggling their way to their personal best he'll happily be a help to them in any way that they can. oh, you were training really hard today and had no success in perfecting a certain technique? its alright, you can just lay down right now while he fixes your bath water and tomorrow he'll help you out with it in any way he can. hes the best cheerleader!

-overall tanjiro is very sweet and kind, even though he has personal problems with his own demons and feeling as if he's a burden most of the time. for all this suffering, he views the prosperity of the people around him worth it and is selfless to the end of the line for those whom he cares about

[ ~Thank You For Reading!~ ]

#tanjiro #tanjiro kamado #tanjiro headcanon #tanjiro headcanons #tanjiro imagine #tanjiro imagines #demon slayer #demon slayer tanjiro #demon slayer headcanon #demon slayer headcanons #demon slayer imagine #demon slayer imagines #kimetsu no yaiba #KNY #kny headcanon #kny headcanons #kny imagine #kny imagines #water breathing

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batfamilysays · 3 years

Text

NUMBER NEIGHBOR

in which damian wayne meets his number neighbor

old draft of oc x damian

wc: 3468

GOTHAM CITY

TINSLEY'S APARTMENT

06:32 PM

Friday comes too quickly and Damian is nowhere near ready.

His lips are still busted open from the preceding evening’s scouting and his hairs grown out far too long, hanging in tufts right below his brow and curling the daintiest bit in a mess of matte black. Small dark rings kiss his tanned skin and tug at the lids of his jade eyes, dulling the color every so slightly to a muted green.

Nothing is right.

Every article of clothing in his wardrobe suddenly seems inadequate for meeting the girl he has been anxiously anticipating ever since he sent the text. He’d probably still be trying to decide on what garment to wear had it not been for Jason chucking a pair of jeans at him and telling him to leave.

Damian isn't dense, he recognizes he's quite aloof at first, he knows his demeanor is unsettling, so as he stood in front of her apartment complex, arm raising to knock, his mind begins to wander.

Was this worth it?

Was the prospect of her getting hurt enough to make Damian turn around, could that ever-growing cavity in his stomach be filled by someone else’s presence? Someone, he doesn’t care about half as much as Tinsley? Someone who didn’t fill it with maddening butterflies and a troublesome warmth. Or could perhaps Damian be allowed this? Allowed this small wedge of pleasure in a world that seemed to grant him nothing but iniquity and desolation?

Fortunately for everyone involved, he didn’t have time to decide for himself as the door swung open and a pair of arms encased his torso with enough force he stumbled back against the hallway’s stained walls and knocked his head against the plaster with a disquieting thud!

An instinct burned into him since childhood shouts, screams at him to push whomever this was away, and retaliate with tenfold that amount of brutality. Yet somehow he can’t quite hear outcries, they seem muffled against the vanilla and honey redolence that embraces him, filling that basin in his stomach to the brink with warm marmalade and crystalized sugar.

“Damian!” such a faint voice whispers, so soft the Wayne almost doesn’t catch it over his shooting heart at the close proximity with the girl he was only just now identifying as Tinsley Nolans, his number neighbor, ‘“Oh my god this is such a surreal experience.”

Hesitantly Damian returns the embrace, his hands engulf the shorter woman in his arms and the scent of her fragaria shampoo and conditioner saturating his senses in a wonderful mellow mix. Her hair blinds him and Tinsley couldn’t help but notice how delicately he was touching her, it was as though she was glass and he was a man destined to shatter it.

It was as though the lion had fallen in love with the lamb.

“You smell really good.” Damian says through a sigh, only belatedly realizing just how awkward that was after the words leave his throat, “Oh my god that sounds so creepy I didn’t mean it-”

“You smell really good too,” It wasn’t what Tinsley had planned to say but if it would make Damian less uncomfortable she was okay with scraping her original sappy speech - besides he really does smell good, “Like mint and smog.”

He knows the smokey fragrance is from the gas bomb he had used the night prior on a few of the riddler’s henchmen, but Damian lets that thought drift peacefully from his head as her hands began playing with the fabric of his shirt, her lips moving in small puffs as she says, “It’s really crazy to see you, it’s like I’m meeting my best friend for the first time.”

The reply he goes with is cheesy, but he can’t find it in himself to care, “I am seeing my best friend for the first time.”

Drawing away with a grin Damian allows himself this one self-indulgent act, allows himself to drink in the slightly shorter girl in front of him, her sandals adding at least an inch in height with their white chunky heels and strappy bases. Tinsley’s hair was laying in long strands across her shoulders, each perfectly curling at the end and crooking up at the base of her neck. A flannel was thrown indolently around her shoulders to add a bit of warmth to the grey cropped shirt and ripped black jeans and Damian couldn’t help but inhale at the peaks of bronzed skin that appeared with every movement she made.

Shaking his head Damian attempts to refocus on her smirking face, a smug look gliding across her eyes like koi fish swimming their deft routine. With the quick realization, he hasn’t said anything for a good two minutes, Damian quickly spouts out, “You look um-nice Ley,”

“You don’t look too bad yourself edgelord,” She adds a playful wink and loops their arms together with comfortable ease, almost as though she knows that’s how they’re meant to be, connected, “C’mon let’s go I’m dying for taco bell,”

Damian, without reluctance, permits his body to decompress, the tension and nerves seeping out with every warm glance she offered and the soft touch of her skin against his flesh, “I don’t know how you can stomach that garbage,”

“Tsk. Such a rich boy thing to say,” Stopping briefly to pop her head inside the flat Tinsley yells, “See you tonight!” To her mother - who roars a warning to Damian - and resumes dragging the much larger man down the corridor with her.

“I’d be careful with what you say, I’m the one with a license after all,” Damian simpers and extracts the keys from his pocket, wagging them in front of Tinsley face teasingly, satisfied with himself as she lets out a childish huff and pouts in a fashion he finds sinfully adorable.

“I regret telling you that wholeheartedly, besides I’ve got my redo in two weeks soo I’ll be the one driving you places, “ Tinsley snatches the keys from his arm and dashes down the hall, only turning back around for a second to stick out her tongue and wink, emitting a boisterous, “Race ya!”

With a playful roll of his eyes, Damian pursues her, knowing full well he can catch up to her with ease if he so chooses to.

He doesn’t.

Instead, he watches from behind as Tinsley twirls and titters as if a ballerina executing a routine only she knows of. Damian wasn’t religious by any means, but this - this was something eternal, something sacred. That carefree expression etched into her face as she reaches the end of the hall, those teasing insults she spews at him while walking to the elevator, the warmth of her skin against his own as she places the keys in his hands and climbs into the passenger side of the car.

It prompted a feeling to froth in Damian’s chest, a feeling he never wanted to be rid of, a feeling that made the pit in his stomach seem not so deafening after all.

GOTHAM CITY WAYNE MANOR 07:02 PM

Driving back to the manor was an experience - to say the least, and Damian found himself learning a few different things.

Firstly, She was a wretched singer, throughout the complete car ride her bellows of off-key glee songs left Damian to regret not insisting control of the aux.

Secondly, She really was awful on the road, she screamed every time the car went over train tracks and went on and on about being crushed by two trucks and becoming a truck sandwich if Damian ever got too close to other cars.

Lastly, Damian is absolutely smitten with her.

The sky had turned frigid in the half an hour it took to arrive at the manor, it lays across them like a white blanket of frost and punctuates each of their breaths with puffs of grey- something Tinsley took benefit of when doing her red hood impression with the mock smoke of a cigarette.

Damian walks up to the house, his hand interlocked with Tinsley’s for what he would never admit to being for anything other than warmth.

The manor really is quite fantastical, with noble pedestals of brown and beige driving up to the roof, complex patterns incised into the granite walls and alabaster steps, each window a darkened hue that makes them seem all the more ambiguous than Tinsley already thought them to be.

A key is fitted into the cold doorknob and Tinsley smiles as Damian yanks her inside, a small yelp leaving her lips as he does so with a probably unnecessary amount of force. Though, in his defense, he didn’t want to waste any time that could be spent inside with her instead of in the freezing night.

“I cannot believe you live here…” Tinsley allows herself to drink in the magnificent interior design, her heart swelling when she directs her gaze back at Damian, whose own eyes have been locked on her the whole time, the same expression coating his eyes when looking at her that she had looking at the structure, “I can’t believe you’re here.”

Damian swears his heart skips a beat, and so he rather than confront the emotions and pressure fabricating in his gut he releases her hand and walks over to the couch, his back turned to the dejected expression Tinsley holds.

“Soooooo,” Tinsley trails off and plops onto the almost comically large couch, the pearly white cushion sinking under her weight and fluffing out around her head, “I’m still a firm believe we should order Taco bell and watch Twilight.”

Setting next to her Damian kicks off his converse, facing her with one eyebrow raised, “Ah yes cause I’m a well-known vampire fanatic.”

Tinsley sits up and punches his shoulder without any malice, her fist barely being felt through Damian’s thick jacket, “Ya know what buckeroo it’s good! Yeah, the acting is less than subpar but the story arc is great!”

With a swift flick of his wrists, he grabs her hands in his own, “Doesn’t an 18-year-old end up with a literal fetus?”

Though Damian may not have been the biggest movie watcher he had read his fair share of cheesy romance novels - for research purposes of course - and twilight was most certainly included in that list.

“That’s not canon!” She argues, twisting so she was on top of him, arms still pinned to his.

“Didn’t the author write it?” Damian easily flips them a second time, the urge to be tender overwhelming despite the usual harshness in his fighting. But this wasn’t a fight - not really - and he needed to get used to that. Because with Tinsley it never would be a fight.

Scrunching her eyebrows together in thought Tinsley groans, pouting out her bottom lip as her list of arguments ran out, so instead a simple “Shuddup!” would have to suffice.

It was only then did Damian realize the position they were in. Tinsley pinned under him, her brown hair a makeshift halo under the fluorescent yellow lights and casting a yellow glow to her face, which almost seems to radiate pure rapture as she beams at him, such heat and affection it makes Damian want to cry.

He’s a murder. And murders don’t deserve this. No matter how much he wants too.

Getting up Damian turns his attention back to the screen, face heating up as he flicks the screen on, “So what do you want to watch?

GOTHAM CITY

CITY ROOFTOPS

12:57

Wind ruffles through his matte black hair and the cold brings his jade eyes to tears, the stinging of wetness against his eyelids burning like chlorine and sunscreen on a blistering summer’s day. Everything seems to anger him nowadays, the way the sun sets far too late on the horizon, how it barely caresses the moon and instead engulfs it, not a bit of fragility in the proficient routine they continuously dance. Even his telephone appears to be in opposition with him, invariably buzzing to life with sweet texts from the one person he refuses to be in contact with but so desperately desires to.

Perhaps he was a bad person, Damian, had mulled over this thought all of last night, the words replaying in his head until they didn’t taste correct on his tongue or sound right for his ears. They reappear at the forefront now, when he is dawned in his vigilante attire and perched on Tinsley’s rooftop with the claim to be patrolling for crime when everyone knows that was most certainly not the reason for him being there.

Seven Days. For seven days Damian has ignored every one of Tinsley’s persistent calls and texts, the fear of falling too deep for a girl who could most certainly do better than him devouring every bit of his soul. Eventually, the calls had trickled out and the texts became sparse until she finally cut him off altogether. He wanted to blame Tinsley at first, wanted so badly to make their devastating separation her fault when in actuality it was all Damian.

He had been the one terrified of getting hurt. He was the one who was scared she’d leave him. He was the one who knew she could do better. He was the one everyone abandoned. He was the one no one wanted. He was the one who had fallen in love with a girl on the internet.

Everyone had tried to help in their own ways, Bruce had tried for days to figure out what was wrong, even threatening to take him off duty if he didn’t tell him. Dick had taken him out for ice cream in the hopes of cheering him up. Jason took Damian to shoot things, Duke spared with him to let him relieve stress, Stephanie had bought him cat toys for Alfred, Barbra had gotten him a fresh set of katanas, and Tim had sat down and just talked with him. In a way Damian couldn’t explain, this warmed his heart and filled the bits and crevices of the basin in this stomach (Especially Tim who - in a weird way - Damian was closest to)

None of the attempted persuasions worked though and eventually, Damian stopped checking the messages and the hole in his chest expanded tenfold, so large and opaque he was fearful it would swallow him whole if he didn’t find something to fill it, this would likely prove to be challenging seeing as though only two people had ever been able to completely fill the irksome hole.

His mother was the first and most prominent, but after using him for years she threw him out, discarding the son to his father after training him to kill and feel nothing but a wave of numbness. After training him to be a monster. His father hadn’t wanted him at first, he was the product of manipulation and abuse, why would anyone want that? But Bruce had to take him, despite his original wishes, and even if Dick assured Damian that Bruce did love him the youngest Wayne couldn’t find it in himself to believe that.

Tinsley Elowen Nolans was the second. But now that she was gone Damian felt as though the hole had grown in size, the only parts in him unconsumed by the darkness where the spots reserved for his family. He knew that if he had simply allowed himself to open up to Tim, Dick, Jason, even Duke that they could possibly fill the cavity. But he didn’t want their warmth. He wanted hers.

Except he couldn’t have hers.

He watches silently as Tinsley walks up to the building, fiddling with her yellow keychain to find the correct one to unlock the apartment complex doors. This was the usual routine she took, what wasn’t usual was what she does next. Damian quirks a brow under his mask as she takes out her phone and types a quick message, only understanding when his phone beeps with a message

TINSLEY

i miss you.

He shouldn’t have checked his phone, not when Tinsley was collapsing to the ground with quiet sobs escaping her lips. Her hair had been thrown into a lopsided ponytail and her mascara was starting to smear down her face with every trail of snot and whimper of inner torment. Damian wanted nothing more than to forget their fight, forget his stupidity, and jump down and make her forgive him, make her stop hurting, make her stop caring about him.

It was exceedingly critical for him to help her, comfort her. However, just as he goes to support her something pulls him back, maybe his insecurities, maybe the knowledge he was still in his uniform. Or maybe a sympathetic group of orphans who look at him with too much pity.

With a scowl Damian shakes Dick’s grip off his shoulder, turning towards them with harsh eyes, blinking away the small tears that had managed to form in his irises. A disgruntled cough leaves his throat and he adjusts the black fabric of his mask to cover his bleary eyes, “Tsk. What is it? Don’t you all have neighborhoods to patrol?”

“Bruce - I mean Batman,” Stephanie corrects after a glare from Cassandra, “Told us you refused to patrol any town but this one and

it seemed suspicious so Tim and I looked into it and that building,” She juts out a thumb to the sobbing girl and blue apartment complex, “Is not-so-coincidentally the same place Tinsley lives.”

Huffing Damian crosses his arms, “You’re right, it is a coincidence. Now shouldn’t you be swapping spit with that ugly bastard,” despite the words he isn’t trying to be malicious - he was just genuinely upset with the situation he has found himself in and is lashing out in the only way he knows how. (Okay and maybe he said it a bit to be mean)

“Robin we just want to help,” Barbra tries, dawned in her Batgirl suit, “With everything that’s gone down we don’t think it’s healthy for you to be ‘patrolling’ here. You’ll never be able to move on from Tinsley if you’re constantly seeing her.”

“Oh please he isn’t trying to move on, he’s trying to get her back.” Jason cuts in, rolling his eyes and clicking a finger against his red helmet, “Which is the right thing to do considering she made him less … well ... him”

“Red hood don’t be mean,” Dick scolds, a pitiful smile on his lips as he turns to Damian and engulfs him in a forced hug, “Whatever you need we’re here for you little D.”

“I need you all to leave me alone!”

Tim steps forward and pries Dick off of Damian, mumbling a barely audible, “He doesn’t want a hug, you’re making him uncomfortable” before turning his attention back to Damian, “Okay well anything except that.”

“Robin, what happened between you two anyway?” Cassandra finally asks, easing the question on everyone's mind with a few words, “You seemed so ... I don't know … happy? Though I have to admit I’m slightly relieved you aren’t gushing over your phone during training sessions anymore.”

“Black Bat, you straight up skip training sessions what the fuck are you on about?” Duke’s eyes go wide as Cassandra throws a knife at him, his hand shooting up and catching it with ease, “Okay damn girl.”

Cassandra snatches her knife back and throws a glare at the yellow-suited man, “Watch it Signal.”

“Can we please get back to Robin and his saga of love?”

Damian can’t help it, the tears push heavily against his eyes and finally break free from the trap of his green irises, small uneven blobs of wetness trailing down his face and plopping onto the ground with a deafening noise. It wasn’t that loud, but Damian's fuzzy head and fast-beating heart augment the noise tenfold.

Everyone goes silent, possibly from a shortage of anything to say, or perhaps from seeing such a austere boy collapse down into pitful bewailings in front of them. His legs buckle and the dark haired man fallsl to his knees, arm covering his face in pure agony as every text he ever sent replays in his mind, a broken record forcing him to relive what he’s done.

So much pain he doesn’t notice the same rag tag group of orphans engulfing him in a hug

TAGLIST !!!

@pretendthisusernameisgoodd @dickgraysonhasanicebutt @multiverseofwonders @emmaleilani96 @mcgonagalls-witches @pleasestophoney @kurosstuff @liltleaderofthelameones @water248 @blackrippedskinnybeans @evalynanne

#damian wayne x oc

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misterbitches · 3 years

Text

i had the misfortune of finally watching/getting through what happened in whatever episode where he gets raped so im gonna talk about it and tag it cos that's what a bitch fuckin feels like, got it? i do what i want aint no limit bad ass bitch aint never been timid. woopsie realized i got the nicknames confused oh well lmao

it's just logistically and plot wise like there's literal plot holes in this and i'm taking the production and set-up into account along with the actual content and development. im an ARTIST OKAY im jk i mean i am and i am pretentious and terrible but look. i didnt get that degree and im not in a house worth of debt for nothing ok. it's called writing on tumblr about my grievances of shows that dont matter and do not respect me as a fat black american woman either so it is my fault yet here i am.

anyway it was worse than i imagined and their talk after (with chengren) was even worse. that's what i mean about making the lines their own (the actors) bc teng teng sounded like a straight up motherfucking moron and im like

bECAUSE IT'S HIM EVEN THO IM LIKE WHAT THE FUCK DID U JUST SAY U STUPID BITCH? but then it's like awwww and they also care about his wellbeing obviously??? but no? but it's like ok still teng teng said it even if it's stupid because he is a character and charles puts that forth. the people that fail the most to do that are xing si's family but that's not the actors fault because it's the literal material. you're like wait what but you just said...?

so i know they have no script editors i guess i think i find this season ACTUALLY fascinating because of just how egregious it is. i also went back and watched history: obsessed which i thought i liked because of their chemistry even though god the production....but i tried rewatching it and i was like wow this is worse than i remembered and the production issues were even worse because some of the music was SO LOUD AND BAD HOLY FUCK and their whole rship isssssss a sight to behold lmao

so man i guess it really is the power of anson/charles. which is good cos we love to see it...sort of but also a lot.

i honestly....because i've been able to pay attn more to the aftermath of the rape going back and putting it into more context and focusing (just barely lmao) is hm even worse. the inconsistencies are insane. it's not even just about the act but the writers have zero idea where they are going because they have no interest in exploring it. but the way in which it happens is like fascinating. yong jie literally thinks he owns xing si and it doesn't matter if he was kissing him or not or asked for a kiss on the lips (which dude what the fuck? i'll get to that) because he was plied with "extremely strong drinks" and his mom knew about it....which girl congrats you're an accomplice to the rape of your son by your other son?

but first of all...the kissing thing. in what fucking world would he (xing si) want that unless he thought he (yong jie) was someone else. i can't say their attraction is evident because we are being lead by this team to think so; they create this false sense of sensuality already so to me that signifies that they never intended for them to have a bond as brothers. it just feels cheap and fucking lazy (which it is.) even if he did, which doesn't make sense considering the context THEY CONSTRUCTED, it wouldn't matter because he was so fucking drunk which.... at that point nothing is fun, you feel sick, who wants sex like that? does he not have whiskey dick? did they have a condom? was it not painful for him considering? even if this was something to easily get over like was the dick good? it couldn't have been. and then, on top of that, there's the fact that you can change your mind or whatever but also that people do get aroused in these situations bc it is human nature (that's if they can literally get aroused which if the drinks were allegedly sooooo strong that nigga would be out so....again like even practically here it doesnt add up. have these people ever been drunk? if not, write what you know girl. cos sometimes it's like i think some of u r trying to be cool when u dont have 2 b lmao)

so yong jie coming on to him previously may be seen as like push-and-pull but here's the thing. right after it happens (the rape and it's rape so call it that you'll be okay) xing si gets up and goes home and is terrified and upset. he acts like what we have seen or even felt after a violation. he's scared, clutching his bag, it's like...you know...decently coming off as truly distressing (the actor isn't bad at all and i like that he's dark. i just massively hate this for him but hey at least he can show some chops.) like honestly man that fucking sucks and hurts to see. if we've been there we feel it. or part of it is realizing belatedly what happened. a lot of times that drop in your stomach is the worst.

but somehow for some reason, to which i cannot understand, the three of them begin to talk as if xing si pressured him? which maybe i missed something and that is possible—dont feel like going back to look—but that also made no sense. like what kind of false memory is this? why would he think he wasn't willing? and if he thought yong jie wasn't and that he pressured him how does he remember like...anything about the sex?!?!??!? besides waking up and being with him. like i guess he felt yong jie's MASSIVE DONG imprint but ??!?!?!?!??!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!??!?!?!?!??!? MAKE IT MAKE SENSE!!!!!

god then the logic of the top/bottom thing is like i said i wasnt going to get into it but it's actually really funny. this whole thing was hilarious. honestly because I DO NOT UNDERSTAND WHAT THAT MEANS. he could have totally raped him in that way but how did you get to this CONCLUSION FROM THAT??????? BY YOUR LOGIC THAT'S NOT HOW IT WORKS? IF HE IS THE BOTTOM AND PENETRATION IS THE ONLY FORM OF TRUE CONSUMMATION AND RAPE BECAUSE APPARENTLY, BASED ON ANATOMY, IF YOU HAVE A DICK IN UR BUTT UR A GIRL THEN HOW. DOES. THIS. MAKE. SENSE. AND THEN

AND THEN

this whole stupid conversation happens so we get to the conclusion that xing si violated him ok cool but that means that something is wrong. that is the CONCLUSION WE CAME TO A SECOND AGO?

also the other rapist is a villain and muren isn't in love with him so, once again, you're breaking the rules of your own world about acceptability which is why most of this is absolutely mind bogggglinG that iit's fuckign comical. like i actually when i can stomach it start laughing or my jaw is slack because it's so insulting as a viewer because there is like 0 logical followthrough.

because whatshisface barges in, kisses him in front of his friends without permission, then says whether you were willing or not which is hm. at that point how u gonna change that around but let's not bother with logic here. i am simply here to point out how this makes no sense according to the rules they set up even outside of the basic rule of life which is hm dont rape people maybe.

so now we know xing si was raped, they believe he was raped, he himself believes he was raped, and whatshisface literally says he doesn't care even if he was willing (he wasn't) so he admits to rape. i don't believe in the police and i hate them (BL industry needs the cops but dont get me down that road) but no one...thought to go?

because according to history 4 logic nothing matters so im sure if he went to the police you could handwave the homophobia since there's no actual context for anything besides their whimsy. but they dont want to do that because they aren't interested in an arc of growth; redemption isn't possible unless he is removed from the family but again no work on thinking this through or thinking about the victim's feelings. because gay sex? who fucking knows. supposedly progressive taiwanese writers of gay shit (like how supposedly progressive the world is. as in it is not and this behavior is the norm and bl perpetuates that) can't think of transformative justice?

and then they gave bad advice so we wont acknowledge that because teng teng doing anything wrong/stupid is frequent but hurts me and also that storyline is not real so i pretend they are not there outside of this post

so all of this is just straihgt up clownery now because it's fucking absurd like logically, practically, human-wise. the kissing thing is inconsequential but it was such a lazy cheap way out lmao cos they really wanted it to seem consensual but that's not how it works. on top of that their attraction makes no sense because whatshisface is just there. he is just there. he's nothing and no one so the sentiments are even more empty and on top of that he doesnt listen to a single request fucking obviously because the basis of their relationship is fucking rape so fucking listening and respecting his partner is not on his list of fucking priorities. he's literally so fucking annoying even without being a rapist it's like someone please beat his ass.

and then after all of that you want us to feel bad? with your horrible writing, poorly misplaced music, stupid costumes (those fucking SHOES THEY ARE HIDEOUS, AND MOST OF THIER CLOTHES DO NOT FIT IT'S LIKE WHY), questionable fucking editing. we're supposed to wnat them together? this sounds literally fucking crazy but bear with me lmao even with the rape they could at least have SOMETHING i mean like i cant believe im fucking saaying this. but like in addicted heroin which is fuckin tragic and awful at least there's a MODICUM of interest but honestly that show s a fucknig drag. idk they lookd good together? here we have 0. nothing. and it doesnt motivate. watching obsessed again i can see why i liked it in the beginning bc they have good chemistry but the acting and production adn like everything about it plus the rape-y vibes it's just too much. you need to pick one thing so if you're going to be a shit writer at least supplement it with something. this thing is nothing.

and even more nonsensical and what boggles my mind frankly out of all this is the mother's involvement and the father's final response. there are NO consequences? theyre all happy?

ok so lets go through this:

1. 2 boys grow up 2gether, one of the boys is fucking psycho, the mother knows but does nothing??????????????

2. one of the sons moves out so his father doesn't get a hint that's he's fucking gay. ok fine. he has 2 best friends, a job, an apt. he is fine.

3. aforementioned brother is obsessed with him for SOME REASON besides being crazy?

3.5 no one has done anything during him growing up to help him not be crazy?

4. mom says to husband who is their father also just in case we forget "im afraid he will lose his humanity"

4.5 again, do nothing. 0. just like oh man hes crazy. guess that's just our son ;)

4. who cares. plies him with alcohol purposefully to rape him. not even dubious (even though dubious is fucked and not okay or is just not. fucking real. these shows are contextless when they want to be or even movies or whatever so it's like largely not up to the task to understand complexity in human rships and then oversimplifies it constantly because that's what we do IRL. but people have fucking feelings you know and we realize when things don't feel good or right to us either very quickly after or having to process it. and once you're eyes are opened you may feel as something was fucking ripped away from you. for the modc couple this would be a very logical conclusion for the high schooler the thirty year old dated but again logic or feelings are up to their whimsy. no one cares bc everything can be counted as dubious so honestly it's a fucking stupid fucking topic like again why are we litigating what is and isnt consent when you could just like idk. read cues? consent? wait? not be a freak? like we all know what is proper human shit so even if we are watching this uncritically which u cant bc it's glaring and stupid it's just even more dumb) so it was honestly a rape plot like he literally planned it soooooooooo??!?!

5. aftermath of rape the victim is like literally fucking bereft and confused. and a rape victim. like that's what they are insinuating and what also he is to be clear.

6. boy tells him "idc if i raped u i luv u lmao"

7. mom ENCOURAGED THE BOY to get him drunk because her other son was too nice? she encouraged her adult son to rape her adult step-son (but her real son because she repeatedly says you are my son and the dad does too THEY GREW UP TOGETHER WHEN THE KID WAS IN AN IMPRESSIONABLE STATE) so THIS ALSO MAKES EVEN LESS MOTHERFUCKING SENSE

8. everyone finds out about his rape and he isnt mortified he's just concerned about himself being gay to his dad?????? except it's not really about his gayness bc now it's about his sudden love for his rapist brother? which? hm ok. understandable the dad is like wow i do not think i like this

9. dad knows all of it is fucked up, everyone does, knows the mother fucked up, knows he fucked up. doesnt like it because he is normal. so we know this is terrible? ok great so—

10. father says "i can't accept this...but i'm willing to give you my blessing" ok see here's the thing. when you write you have to think about the things you are putting on the page and what you have written previously. this quite literally made no sense how the fuck are you going to not accept them but give them your blessing? does this crew know what the fuck words are? i'm assuming they went to some sort of school to obtain jobs here bc there cannot be natural talent or experience. maybe most of them are rich. fuck i do not know but this also makes no sense. just the literal logic of it it's like fucking insane the whiplash.

10.5 apparently this father is also shitty. everyone here sucks and they are basically begging me to think xing si is a fucking idiot so i dont even want to look at him if he is an object he doesnt matter so now i want to kick him. thanks a lot you made the victim get absolutely fucking nothing

they KEEP PUSHING the brother thing it is so insane and it's liek GUYS WE GET IT WE UNDERSTAND THEYRE "RELATED" BUT NOT RELATED SO IT'S OK HE WAS "RAPED" BUT NOT RAPED but you're GOING BACK ON YOUR OWN RULES!!!!!!!!!! WE GET THAT THEY ARE BROTHERS!!! WE'RE OVER IT NOW BUT WHAT IS THIS WHEN WE ALREADY ESTABLISHED SOMETHING? I AM CONFUSION? they flip flop between my son, my brother my actual brother, and cannot fucking distinguish between love for your father and love for your romantic partner? so to me what i see is that the father wants to fuck the son. that's the conclusion i am garnering now considering nothing matters and his love for his "brother" is the same as his love for his dad lmao. they couldnt even do that in a way that made sense. like damn anybody can get anything. these ppl who are doing this have to be fucking rich and/or have connections.

also this guy sounds literally like a textbook abuser like he says constantly "im the best choice" is a rapist is awful holds capital (oh hees "saving" smh ur trapping her!!!!! RETIRE!!!!) also wears terrible shoes so i am like ur alllllllllLLLLL FUCKING CRAZY ur all literally crazy and then they are trying to set rules and boundaries in their fucking house like WHY ARE THEY LIVING TOGETHER EVEN? even tho oh my god they know he raped him and for some reason they are both allowing to live in the house but they dont want them to have sex??!?!?!??!??!?!?!?!??!?!?!?!?!?!?!??!?!!?!?!?!?!!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!??!?!??!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!!??!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!??!?!?!?!?!?! i get that this is their house but this is like at this point these ppl are writing anything and now whatshisface is acting like a 2 yr old again and we are supposed to find this cute? like it makes 0 sense why do u fucking care u literally encouraged ur son to rape him so they cant have consensual sex under your nose now and have to wait four years? this is coming from the son who couldnt wait until someone was sober enough to realize hes fucking psychotic and should be killed also the fact that they act like being 20 means u have no fucking brain like this kid is in med school supposedly how do we know like hes a liar and an idiot so. also wait do they mean undergrad? how are you in med school at 20? is he a genius? girl i dont care lmao i guess i missed that but it's not like it matters so whatever

even if we ignore the stupidity of the literal acts, the grossness of the content, the absolute inability to write coherently or even remotely in a way where we would even want to see them together which is like....u set it up at the beginning so he punches "the love his life's best friend" also holy fuck im sorry remember when he punches muren because xing si got too drunk. so i'm guessing whatshisface is that good of a bartender that he makes super strong drinks and gets xing si drunk but his alcohol is magical therefore it doesn't make him sick. his alcohol is the type that gets you drunk but somehow doesnt get to your liver even though that's how we get drunk but dont ask guys he's only in med school and a bartender so i think he knows best (seriously have the main writers had a day of fun in their lives? have they ever been drunk? are they toddlers? drunk babies could probably do better tho.) i get that he was also jealous but if this kid is SOOOOOO genius (he understands social cues lmao he has the cpacity to project onto his victim so im like miss me with the not understanding shit. go to a fucking therapist like seriously did no one care abt this kid? his mother thinks he's like almost a goddamn murderer. how is she not dead? how are they all not dead? how do any of them know how to drive with this type of brain?) then he would understand that they are very clearly friends since he watched them part in a very platonic way and since he apparently knows what love is cos he thinks....he can....make someone fall in love with him bc he loves them? again, i wouldnt know hes 20 and taiwanese and im 29 and black from AMERICA so im WESTERN* so you know. different life experiences i guess XD

even if we do mental gymnastics to get it to a place where they "had sex" and he didnt rape him there's 0 ZERO ZERO ZERO ZERO ties to the literal story they wrote and the rules they set up. i'm going ot assume they dont know wtf theyre doing and i know for a fact we all care more about their dumb show than they do but it's actually startling how piss poor this is it's like idek what to compare it to. the continuity is awful awful awful they needed a script supervisor majorly and they are making bank and are going to make fucking bank fof this shit. and itll just continue like that until IRL material changes and that's facilitated by these very same groups they choose to profit off of and exploit by propelling it into the mainstream and litigating homosexuality through capitalism. and i'm being specific with homosexuality. i dont want a GL market like at all and i know why we wouldnt have it either and that has everything to do with the nature of BL, capitalism, coercion, and the fanbase being young girls and women. i don't think in this day and age we can safely say all the fans are straight; i'm sure a majority but many women or people on the gender spectrum and sexuality spectrum also consume it. frankly, it's possible the women who write it could be or something too. i dont rly believe any1 is str8 lmao but im just saying it's not out of the realm of possibility. but it isnt about that at all. that's why we wont see "good" female characters (like well written) often that's why we won't see trans women or kathoeys or fat people or black asians in it. a lot of it is is a choice we participate in whatever. but holy fuck dude u could at least respect the audience's fucking intelligence. i'm talking about everything i think that is encapsulated in the project but it's even more jarring and worse because it's so insanely inconsistent and poorly done. like how we jump from one conclusion to another is wild to me. even their first "night together" and he wakes up im like girl....u no ur ass felt it. this nigga broke into his house and was like "im gonna have u" like it's getting weird

just make xing si suffer offscreen not us the stupidity is staggering, mind blowing, hilarious.

how wong kar wai, a straight man from HK (or at least married to a woman), or barry jenkins, a striahgt black man, write/do stories well about people they wouldnt knw about their experiences directly is....well thinking like using their brains and like knowing all types of people? the man who co-wrote moonlight is a hOMOSEXUAL, leslie cheung was fucking gay or queer (and he committed suicide and that's important also RIP homie) both are hailed as queer cinema like WKW wanted to do something else and invested time into it, changed the way he played around with structure, moved away from his crime oriented stuff. he THOUGHT about it and this film is about their reality. it's a harsh film, idk how i feel about it (but my fav movies of his are the crime ones or the messy ones where it's clear he didnt write a script lmao fallen angels is one of my fav movies its' abt assassins kinda) but i know it means something. and he didnt like what HK had previously wasnt enough. it is not the only cinema that should be shown since it's such a stark reality and depressing but it is a real depiction so we can have all sorts of stuff. no this isnt WKW level or moonlight level but i know for a fact these people think they are doing something because artists always do i say this as one and someone who is equally as useless. you're making a statement.

i also hate the westerner component of peoples analyses. first of all dont do cultural relativism. we can critique and respect. but second of all how are we going to keep saying "dont put western ideals on this" when that is what is happening anyway because that's part and parcel for soft power and capitalism. how about taiwan's history with the KMT? what about the regimes young people fought about? aided by US imperialism which permeates through society and affects material conditions, views, democracy, identity and that goes into culture and media. hm? what about that? is that reality too fucking western for people? that we are doing the same thing again now? is that okay to talk about or is that only on your time?

then there's the argument that this is just entertainment. yea no shit but the thing is if we r gonna talk about marginalized groups and watch bc of marginalized groups and then be expected to identify then i dont see why i cant put this in context. even if it wasnt fucking serious we'd still judge it. but it's so pompous and again like i wouldnt say EYE think it's art but it is "art" in the literal sense and no self respecting artist would ever go "man this means nothing." of course im not sure if they do respect themselves so hey but u cant just go oh man it's entertainment when it literally rests on the fact that HOMOS are MARGINALIZED. it literally rests on the fact that WOMEN ARE OBJECTS. you either want progress or you dont. i dont understand being so demanding but not beign specific in the demands and not trying to use your brain. if you dont want to use your brain don't. but if you are looking , engaging, and keep making these arguments or telling ppl it doesnt matter whilst complaining about how much others care is hypocritical at best, willfully obtuse at worst. both bad. :)

(also all this + another thing; it is insulting to have this like wedding happen based off of this stupid relationship when people fought so hard and had to push it. now they can use the material conditions to their advantage but it's so ridiculous. also because there is difficulty still in getting married in taiwan i'm honestly like....the boldness of the writers...)

#history 4 #history 4: close to you #*dont call me western ever #a thot

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