#something something keep your friends close but reluctant allies even closer
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Astro's masterplan against malicious maintenance: How it started vs. how it's going
#transformers#maccadam#transformers oc#tf oc#oc grease#oc mazačka#tf astrotrain#astrotrain#local trains AU#something something keep your friends close but reluctant allies even closer
930 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Offering
Pairing: Azriel x F!Reader
Kinktober 2024: Knife Play
Description: Two spymasters of different courts get sent on the same mission. What could go wrong?
Warnings: Smut, knife play, a bit of blood, enemies to lovers, dirty talk
Word Count: ~3k
Rating: 18+ MDNI
Kinktober 2024 Masterlist
People were filtering out of the banquet hall bit by bit, you almost wanted to sigh in relief, this had felt like the longest night. The corset was eating at your skin - it really shouldn't have been something you did by yourself, you tightened it far too much, - and the wine would have started getting to you if this night carried on much longer, something that you couldn't have let happen, especially with him here.
The Night Court's Spymaster had scarcely looked at you this whole time, pretty much ignoring your presence as your disguise called for, but even a quick glance was enough to make your skin burn. Maybe it wasn't such a good thing the banquet was ending, it meant you had to face him sooner. The thought makes you down the rest of your wine, drunken cheers erupting from the people around you.
Cozying up to rich and presumptuous nobles was unfortunately one of your strengths, you could talk almost anyone out of their secrets on nights like this, which is why Eris sent you here last minute, not wanting to lose ground on the Night Court.
You have been Eris' unofficial spy since before he had become High Lord, you considered him one of your closest friends really, and that's exactly why he had appointed you as his Spymaster when he took the throne. Over the years his and the Night Court's alliance had grown and shifted, never quite losing their initial animosity but working towards common goals. This meant you've had the displeasure of working with Azriel on multiple occasions.
Just as the last few attendants stand up, you mix in with the crowd, walking behind them for most of the way before turning a corner and disappearing from their sight, carefully making your way back to the banquet hall where the shadowsinger is waiting with his back turned to the door, powerful wings now on full display after being hidden behind a glamor.
As soon as you close the door, letting your exhausted body fall against it, he turns to you, hazel eyes dragging over your body untamed. You take this moment to study him as well. It will always take you by surprise how unbelievably beautiful this male was.
The two remaining candlesticks barely illuminated the room but Azriel always thrived in the dark. The dark blue suit he wore looked more expensive than anything you had ever seen him in, and Gods did it look downright sinful on him. He had to send his shadows away during dinner, but now they had returned, swirling around his form, making him look even more imposing. If you didn't know better you would have thought he was the High Lord of darkness himself.
Your eyes meet at last after studying each other's bodies and choices of attire, the tension in the room making you swallow as you struggle to fall back into your role as spymaster, your role as his reluctant ally from a court he had made quite obvious he despised with passion.
“I'm not sure how this alliance is supposed to prosper when you keep hiding things from us, shadowsinger,” you start, walking closer to the table in between you.
“I'm here on private Night Court business.” He tracks your movements, hazel eyes studying the way you hold onto the back of a chair as he continues, “It doesn't concern you.”
“Really? From what I gathered this affects the Autumn Court too.”
“It won't affect anyone if we stop them in time,” he dismissed you easily.
“They want to summon a God, Azriel,” you remind him, your glare sharpening.
“After I share all my findings with Rhysand I'm sure he will call a High Lord meeting and inform everyone accordingly.”
The more your mood soured, the more his shadows stretched out towards you, braving the lights on the table in favor of reaching your body. They were powerful weapons, powerful beings, but you've learned they can give away their singer's emotions and intentions if unchecked.
“You know what I think?”
“I'm sure you'll tell me anyway.”
“I think this need you have to always be the one to figure everything out on your own and making yourself useful comes from being that insecure little kid who couldn't even fly.” The vile words fall from your mouth far too easily, it's almost like you're always trying to prove the rumors about you right. “Scared they'll throw you away? Find someone better than you?”
You thought his shadows would crawl up your body at the verbal attack, maybe even try to hide his if you truly crossed a line, but much to your surprise they scatter around the room instead. Azriel's head tilts to the side, a smirk falling onto his handsome face as he starts walking around the table, slowly making his way to you. It takes far too much self control for you not to back away, years of training and experience rendered null in his presence.
Azriel wouldn't hurt you, that would compromise the alliance between your courts, and, as cruel as your words had been, they were also true, - he would be too scared of the repercussions of failing his brother far too much, - but that wasn't what made your heart race so. You were scared of what else he could do to you, of what you would let him do.
His hand reaches to cup your face, and you struggle to keep up the glare as you take in the hunger in his eyes. Azriel hums when you make no move to pull away, eyes dropping to your chest for a moment before meeting yours once again, letting you know he could hear the way your heart was trying to escape through your ribcage.
“You really don't know how to do anything else but bite when you get backed into a corner, do you?”
His voice sounded deeper as he whispered so close to you, his breath hitting your face as you looked up at him.
“What else am I supposed to do?”
Azriel lets out a cruel chuckle, leaning in until his lips brush against yours. “I thought you already knew you can drop the act when it's just me,” he murmurs, “guess I'll need to show you again.”
His lips fall over yours as soon as the words leave his mouth, your hand coming up to hold the back of his neck, pulling him in even closer. It had been far too long since you had last tasted him and you needed more, needed to drown yourself in him.
His own hands start trailing down your body, pulling up the skirt of your dress until it gathers at your waist, lifting you up onto the table and standing between your legs before you have the chance to react, always getting so lost in him.
“What are you doing?” You ask, pulling away as you try to remember yourself, remember your role and where you are. Anyone could walk in this room and find you like this. You don't know what would be worse: everyone figuring out you were spies working to uncover their whole operation, or someone seeing the spymasters of two opposing courts tangled up like this.
“As long as we are in this house we need to keep up our cover,” Azriel explains against your neck, unwilling to let you hold on to your sanity, “Can't you hear them upstairs? We're the odd ones out.”
You had been so caught up in him you hadn't even noticed the mingling scents and wanton moans traveling all the way from up the stairs. It almost sounded like the universe was working against you. Tightening your grip on his silky hair as he moves lower, kissing your skin all the way down to the neckline of your dress.
He stands up suddenly, eyeing your covered body one more time, before pulling out his trusted dagger, Truth Teller, and running its tip down your throat lightly, the cold blade barely touching the skin. Your eyes widen a bit, but the way his track the blade's movements makes you relax against it. It looks like you're in for an unforgettable night.
“This is a beautiful dress. It was incredibly hard to keep my eyes off you the whole night,” he says, eyes meeting yours for a split second, “but it's getting in the way now.”
“It's an expensive dress, Azriel.” Your voice was far too breathy for this to sound like a heartfelt complaint. He humors you all the same.
“I'll buy you a new one,” he promises just as the sharp blade starts cutting at the corset holding your dress tight against your skin, destroying the fabric far too easily. Gods, he could cut your skin so easily if he wanted to.
He throws the offending corset aside, making you finally breathe properly for the first time tonight. As you take a deep breath, his scent assaults your senses, making the wetness gathering in your underwear grow even more. You bring his lips back to yours but he only allows you a short kiss before he's pulling away again.
Just as you go to protest, he gets back to work with his knife, running the cold blade over your heated skin, sending shivers down your spine, gasps escaping you when he actually cuts through fabric after caressing your skin with the deadly weapon for so long.
By the time your dress was in shreds at his feet, and you were finally naked to his eyes, you were unbelievably turned on, so wet you think he could slip right in with no resistance.
“Lay down for me.”
It takes you a moment to fully think through what he wanted you to do, studying the shadowsinger intently for any sign of deceit. He lets you, simply staring back into your eyes, as open as you've ever seen him. The knife in his hand didn't feel threatening, not after he ran the blade all over your skin without so much as a scratch, and you fear you would never actually feel threatened by it as long as he was the one holding it.
You obey him, falling back against the table you had just been eating at, surrounded by a dangerous cult who was still lingering inside this very house, and could very well catch you both in this vulnerable state. He was right though, you couldn't help but at least show your teeth.
“Are you interrogating me now?”
Azriel hums, a dark, excited look falling over his eyes, one that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand, whether because of fear or anticipation you can't be too sure.
“We can do that,” he starts, running Truth Teller's hilt down your sternum, “It's not often I get the Spymaster of the Autumn Court under my knife after all.”
“And what do I get in return for answering your questions?”
The smile on his face grows, laying the knife down your torso, the blade fitting perfectly between your breasts, and spreading your legs apart further, helping you plant your feet on the table too, keeping you nice and open for his greedy eyes. “I think you know.”
“Did Eris send you here to spy on me or on them?” Azriel asks as he leans over you so he can meet your eyes properly.
The problem with this position is that you can't really keep your eyes on him, only seeing his shadowy figure through your peripheral vision unless he leans over you or you strain your neck. You felt completely at his mercy.
As if hearing your thoughts, - something you were sure only his High Lord and Lady could do, - his shadows gather under you, bringing in a rolled up table cloth so you could hold your head up, and meet his eyes. Being confronted by his hazel eyes again makes you clench around nothing, momentarily forgetting everything else.
“Both,” you answer honestly. It's not like you both didn't already know the truth. “You keep hiding things from us so what other choice do we have?”
“Your High Lord isn't entitled to know about everything that happens in Prythian,” he scoffs, his disdain for Eris so obvious it almost makes you flinch when he touches you again, his thumb running down your stomach, from the tip of his knife to where you needed him most.
“Neither is yours.”
Now it was his turn to glare up at you, leaning over your body and looking down with sharp eyes. You almost think this would turn into another argument before he keeps running his thumb down your folds, collecting your wetness and spreading it around, not quite giving you what you needed.
“Tell me,” he starts, picking up the dagger once again, “have you told your High Lord you keep letting a bastard like me fuck you?”
It's only when blood starts dripping down his wrist that you notice he had grabbed the dagger by the blade. Just as you go to get up and stop him, not wanting to see him hurt, he runs the hilt of his favored dagger over your folds just like he had done with his fingers, getting it coated in your wetness, and making you stop in your tracks as a gasp escapes you.
“Would you tell him how easily you fall apart on my cock?” His intentions were becoming clear in your mind, and for some sick reason it was only making you wetter instead of scared. “Need an answer, little spy.”
“No,” you confess, eyes staring back into his, silently begging him to do something.
“Embarrassed?”
“Not of you.”
The problem wasn't him. You were embarrassed of how easily you forget yourself when he so much as looks your way, even though he's more enemy than ally and makes his hate for your court and High Lord well known every time you meet. You're embarrassed at how you still let him touch you like this and be a constant presence in your thoughts knowing he would kill the person that saved and gave you the opportunity to be someone of importance in a heartbeat.
A shadow passes by his eyes, you're not sure what it meant, but luckily he doesn't linger in unwanted thoughts either, spreading your folds apart with his thumb as he starts feeding your cunt the hilt of his dagger. You tighten involuntarily around the unfamiliar material, even though you were so wet you were dripping down onto the table under you.
Azriel lets out a sigh at the sinful sight, circling his thumb around your clit. “Relax for me,” he murmurs, “I promise I'll make you feel good.”
And as usual your body listens to him immediately, allowing him to slowly insert the hilt of the dagger completely inside you. The scent of his blood mixed in with your arousal was making your head spin, and you can't help but call out his name, ready to beg if that was what it took. It seems his patience was wearing thin too as he starts pumping Truth Teller inside you, slowly fucking you with his dagger.
“Fuck, you look perfect.”
You should definitely feel a bit ashamed at the noises erupting from your lips, but if you did it was only adding to the pleasure, a high building inside you far too rapidly. You stand no chance as he leans down and sucks your clit into his mouth, circling his tongue around and speeding up his thrusts, your hands falling to his hair, tightening around his curls painfully, keeping him right there.
Your orgasm almost takes you by surprise as you let out an untamed moan of his name, the Spymaster's name echoing around the room like it couldn't get you both killed. Your legs dangle over the table again, trembling slightly as your body works you through the intense pleasure.
Azriel's mouth only abandons you when you start pushing at his head, too sensitive as you come down. His dagger follows, the sound of it being placed on the table next to you making you open your eyes and look at it, heat spreading to your face and ears as you do, still soaked with your cum on its hilt and his blood on the blade.
You look his way to find him studying it as well, his bloodied hand holding onto your hip, staining your skin as well. He was so focused that the shadowsinger didn't even notice you sitting up until you grab the back of his neck and pull him into a passionate kiss, feeling even needier now than when you first started even though you just came so hard you had seen every star in the sky.
Azriel returns the kiss with the same intensity, both of you getting lost in each other's taste and touch. Time seemed to stop around you. His hand travels up your body, painting his blood over your skin, making your scents mix completely into one, until you were anyone that walked into this room wouldn't be able to tell them both apart.
You feel him tense up against you suddenly, lips freezing against yours, prompting you to pull away, scared something had happened. Your eyes fall on the door immediately, thinking one of the cult members had wandered in, hand reaching for his dagger, but when you find the door still closed and no one even close to this room your eyes fall on his questioningly.
What you find in his wide hazel eyes scares you more than anything else could, ice running through your veins, snuffing out your fire as you see an inescapable fate come alive, shackling you together. His dagger drops onto the table once more, slipping through your fingers.
Azriel was your mate.
#azriel x reader#azriel smut#azriel x y/n#azriel x you#azriel fanfiction#azriel acotar#azriel shadowsinger#acotar fanfiction#acotar x reader#acotar smut#acotar kinktober
449 notes
·
View notes
Text
5O QUESTIONS - COMMANDER EDEN SHEPARD
I saw this template done numerous times on the dash thanks to N7 Day, so I thought I'd answer these all for Eden! Put under a read more because of length and the nature of the materials discussed.
Happy N7 Day to everyone except Bioware <3
Why did Shepard enlist? Any regrets?
Eden enlisted mainly because the Alliance was all she knew. Both parents were enlisted and made life-long careers out of it, so she grew up immersed in military culture and had a passion for it. Naturally, though, there are some regrets and things she would have maybe tried to do differently (e.g., the Torfan incident), but she tries not to dwell on that since it's said and done with.
How does Shepard feel about having a yeoman assigned to them in 2? And in 3?
She's definitely surprised by the assignment, and tends to spend most of ME2's plot being a bit distant with Chambers. It's not out of any negative feelings toward Chambers herself, as the two do get closer toward the end of ME2/throughout ME3, but Eden is so used to running things herself and juggling the crew that she just doesn't know what to do.
What’s their relationship with Anderson?
Oh, Eden and Anderson are very close. She sees him as a role model, especially after learning about his candidacy with the spectres. There's banter in MW2 (sorry, been on a fixation with that JFLSJAFLJ) that honestly captures what I imagine their dynamic to be (with Anderson being Ghost and Eden being Soap):
Ghost – “Be careful who you trust, Sergeant. People you know can hurt you the most.” Soap – “Good advice, Lt. I wanna be like you when I grow up.” Ghost – “You wanna be better than me, Johnny.” Soap – “Maybe I already am…” Ghost – “Now’s your chance to prove it.” Soap – “Think I’ll live that long?” Ghost – “Probably not…”
Is Shepard any good at poker?
Nope, but she tries her best. She's much better at Blackjack.
How well does Shepard know their crew? Not just the companions, but the folks making up the Normandy?
Not well, honestly. Most of the crew outside of the companions are acquaintances at best and strangers at worst, though there's a few exceptions (e.g., Dr. Chakwas. Eden adores Karin with all of her heart). She's just… busy. Tired. Missions end up pulling her left and right, and when she does have the downtime she's either working out, organizing requisitions/resources, or doing the bare minimum in terms of self care.
In terms of the companions, she considers most of them good allies/friends. Even those she doesn't get along well with, she still finds herself talking shit with them at the end of the day.
Initial reaction to EDI? Does it change?
Initially, there was hesitation. It was hard for there not to be any, especially with Joker's thoughts on the matter. Unlike him, though, Eden tried to keep an open mind to the idea and actually came to really like EDI! Once EDI got a body, some of that hesitation came back, but after seeing how capable EDI was and seeing that she could trust them with her life, Eden made EDI one of her primary companions.
Does their love interest move into their quarters?
If there were one, Eden would be reluctant to the idea. Having a relationship in that environment is tough as it is, but to make it more blatant/public? She knows that it's dangerous. There's enough targets on her crew's back (and on her own, but she's less caring about that), she doesn't want to put people in harm's way through association, so she'd keep the relationship as under wraps as possible.
What is their reaction to the Alchera mission? And after?
A lot of feelings bubble up to the surface, and Eden gets very uneasy about the thought of revisiting the Normandy crash site. She puts it off for a hot minute, but eventually prepares to go. Doesn't really tell anybody what's going on, just says she has something from top brass that she needs to take care of.
After, though, she's unwell. Seeing everything and collecting all of the crew tags tore at her. She absolutely pulled back from interacting with her current crew for a little bit after that, and it didn't take much for the longer-term members of her crew to put two and two together.
What type of fighter is Shepard? Do they fight with honor, or do they fight dirty?
It really depends on the circumstances and timeline, but the short answer is she tries to fight with honor. She fought real dirty on Torfan, and spends a lot of 1 trying to make up for that. Then, of course, everything with Cerberus, The Illusive Man, the Council, etc. ultimately puts a sour taste in her mouth and she becomes more focused on making sure the right call is made, politics be damned.
Does Shepard keep any pets? The hamster, fish, something else?
Sadly, she doesn't! She's thought about filling the aquarium in her quarters a good few times, but with her being pulled in so many directions, she decides against it.
What order does Shepard pick up companions in me2?
Zaeed, Mordin, Garrus, Kasumi, Grunt, Jack, Samara, Thane, Tali, Legion.
Does Shepard have any nicknames? What do they think of them?
Not really, outside of Shep (re: her surname). She doesn't mind it.
How does your Shep react to teasing/ribbing?
It depends on who's doing the teasing/ribbing, but she generally tends to play along with it and lean into the energy. If it's a squad mate or crew member, she keeps the joke going. If it's someone like an enemy, she goes along and lets it escalate.
Any good at flirting?
Absolutely not, but she does try.
What colors does Shepard prefer for their armor?
Standard issue. She doesn't put too much thought into her appearance, so the traditional black/white/red for her armor works well enough for her.
Is Shepard a drinker? History of other substances? Do they struggle with sobriety?
No other substances, but Eden did develop a little something with alcohol during her time under investigation/placed in custody. Being stuck with nothing to do (aka: distract herself), and having all the pressure placed on her shoulders, gave her too much time to ruminate.
She drank pretty casually prior to that, though. Usually only upon invitation or when the team was on R&R. It never really became a coping mechanism until everything around her stopped.
How does Shepard react to attention? Do they enjoy it?
Oh, Eden hates being the center of attention. Which is very ironic considering her position, and how she'd got there. Dislikes having a bunch of eyes on her, but stormed into the Council's room damned be the consequences to raise noise about the Reapers.
She does well to bite back the awkwardness and hesitation, but it sets her on edge for a good few hours after the fact.
Who’s the dream team? Which companions does Shepard fight best with, and why?
In terms of both ability and chemistry, Kaidan and Garrus. Having two biotic foot soldiers backed by a sniper provides for really good adaptability in the field, allowing them to handle most situations. Plus, they all share a really good bond with one another, which makes communication a breeze.
If Eden knows she's doing more infiltration work, she'll switch out Kaidan for Tali and/or EDI, so they have a bit more options tech-wise.
Are there any companions Shepard just absolutely cannot vibe with or relate to?
Miranda, Mordin, and Zaeed. It's less incompatible ability than it is just the wrong energy.
The way Miranda handles Eden's doubts in Cerberus' intentions rubbed her the wrong way, and they often get into quarrels about it. That said, Eden's still thankful for Miranda's involvement in bringing her back, and does try to help out with her sister (but ultimately loses Miranda's loyalty when putting an end to the argument between the operative and Jack).
Mordin's kinda similar in that regard, though it's the blinded support for the genophage. Dismissing the impact of the event and the concerns of the krogan all-together rubs Eden the wrong way. Especially given Mordin's role in it.
And Zaeed… Oh him and Eden bump heads quite a bit. It usually starts with them casually shooting the shit, but his lack of regard for things and her stubborn nature tend to create a bad mix. Hell, when helping him with his loyalty mission, she almost did leave him under the rubble. But she knew it wouldn't make her feel better, and she needed all the help she could get in taking on the Collectors, so she helped him up and convinced him to tag along.
Does Shepard enjoy looking for resources and upgrading gear, or do they see it as a chore?
Oh she loves it. It's one of the few times she can actually take a step back and see the universe for what it is. I headcanon that in between side/loyalty missions, she takes her time in traveling between systems and exploring them (granted the context allows it).
Do you have any AUs for your Shepard?
Besides fandom crossovers, not really! Haven't given it much thought, honestly.
What’s the last thing Shepard ate before the final reaper showdown?
Honestly? It wasn't a lot.
I like to imagine the whole crew kind of sat down and had one last big, communal dinner with one another because nobody knew how that shit was going to go when they touched down on Earth. Probably made one last stop to the Citadel markets to pick up proper ingredients. Use whatever spare credits they had in their allowance to buy the freshest things to make a proper, quality meal. Eden was pretty distant as is given all the planning that needed to be done, but she felt too nauseous to eat. It was only after sharing some drinks with Dr. Chakwas that Eden picked at some leftovers the doctor had snuck away (for the sole purpose of buttering Eden up; she knows her commander very well).
Who does Shepard turn to for advice? For comfort? Who do they like to gossip with?
Liara, Garrus, and Dr. Chakwas.
Even if Liara doesn't see a lot of field time alongside Eden, the two grew pretty close (to the point where Liara did begin to flirt with Eden, who respectfully shot it down both because of their work dynamic and Eden being straight). But that didn't damper their relationship one bit.
Garrus and Dr. Chakwas are pretty self-explanatory. Garrus for their work compatibility and their whole dynamic outside of missions. Dr. Chakwas because she's always been by Eden's side, and had her best interests in heart.
How emotionally articulate is Shepard? Do they emote well?
Trying to talk to Eden about her emotions is like talking to a brick wall. She's not very good at allowing herself to open up with what she actually wants to say. She knows what she wants to say. She knows how to describe what she's feeling, and she would be considered fairly emotionally articulate if she opened up. But she's stubborn, so she won't.
But she's not impossible to read by any means. She's pretty open with her expressions (and it's gotten her into trouble quite a few times. Scowls, frowns, eye rolling, and smug smirks galore).
Does Shepard have a canon romance? Who are they, and what drew Shep to them?
No canon romances here! She gets close to people, but she doesn't really see the benefit to getting romantically involved with someone within the crew. Fraternizing, to her, just feels… off. Not wrong, but just something she'd prefer not doing as it'd disrupt whatever dynamic is already going on. Plus, there is some anxiety given her stealth status, and she feels like there's already too many worms on the platter to go ahead and just open another can.
Do they have any pet peeves?
Oh yeah, Eden is very much a "no bullshit" type of person. She doesn't tolerate a lot of things and will absolutely call them out. A big one for her, though, is passiveness. Crossing boundaries, non-apologies, people saying "no offense" to lessen the brunt of criticisms, etc. Just be upfront and honest.
What about hyperfixations? What’s the topic that will get Shepard rolling, no matter the person or place?
None that I can think of! Eden's not much of a conversationalist, but she's more than happy to give her opinion on things if the time is there.
How active is Shepard? Are they hitting the gym, playing sports, or do they prefer quieter downtime?
Eden is very active, and it's one of the ways that she keeps herself occupied and focused when there's downtime between missions. Very much a gym rat, and it's not uncommon to find her in the cargo bay shooting the shit with James while they work out.
What will always make them laugh?
Eden loves when people shoot the shit and "argue" with each other. Throwing a few friendly insults amongst crew members, teasing companions about an embarrassing situation (long as they find it funny, too), and so on. She tends to show a tougher love to her close allies.
Who can always make them laugh?
Garrus. His witty remarks and his comments on things are something that will always make her laugh. He's a bad influence (joking, ofc, but he has definitely influenced her own sarcasm, especially during the events of ME2 and ME3).
What do they do when they have hit their limit angry? When they're just incandescent with rage?
She lets loose, which isn't always a great mechanism considering it's led to some… confrontations. She'll yell. She'll scream. It's entirely possible she'll get physical, whether that's getting into someone's space or outright throwing hands (RIP Khalisah al-Jilani, who absolutely got her shit rocked).
What skills do they have that are a surprise to the people around them?
Not many people would think someone as "hard" as Eden would enjoy tailoring/sewing, but it's a practical skill that she enjoys indulging in. She's always patching up her own clothing, and has offered the same to crewmates when she has the spare time.
Got any tattoos?
Nope!
Which companions have they lost? How do they cope with it?
Ashley and Miranda were the only two companions Eden lost, excluding the SSV Normandy Crew. She didn't cope well with either loss, even with any lingering tensions they had.
With Ashley's death on Virmire, Eden compartmentalized it and focused more on offering a shoulder for the rest of the team (especially Kaidan, as he naturally developed quite the survivor's guilt after the Virmire Incident). She did talk it out a bit, but kinda wrote it off as something that happened and that they all could mourn after the fact.
She did something similar with Miranda, but in the time between 2 and 3 (esp. when she was marooned on Earth and awaiting trial), she used the alone time to really reflect on things. She couldn't exactly talk it out with anybody, especially in Alliance custody, so she ruminated on everything (re: both deaths, her choices, etc.).
Do they like to style their hair, wear makeup and jewelry? How do they feel about getting dressed up?
The most Eden does is makeup, which the boldest part of that is her dark and smokey eyeshadow. I headcanon that she picked the eye style out while in N7 training, after seeing what she'd looked like when darkening her eyes for tactical purposes (re: face paint to help blend the mask for low light cover). She just kinda went, "You know what? I wanna adapt this into my everyday style", and thus the iconic smokey eye was born.
As for her feelings getting dressed up, it's a mixed bag. Dysphoria is a bitch, and she often feels that because of her physique, she comes off as "just a man in a dress" (which isn't true in the slightest, but dysphoria is anything but rational). On the other hand, she does like turning heads every now and again, and wearing that sleek black dress, or her formal blues, boosts her general confidence.
Got any bad habits?
The more accurate question is what bad habits doesn't Eden have. Lots of unhealthy coping (overworking, avoiding meals, drinking, risk taking as self harm, etc) packed into this commander!
Does Shepard do any activities with the companions and crew during downtime?
Oh yeah. Not so much during ME2 (solely because of her unease with the whole Cerberus thing), but during the other timelines? Absolutely.
The most notable example, naturally, is the pull-up contest/sparring session with James. They do that pretty often. They might not be super close, but they're absolutely that gym bro duo. Constantly chatting shit about each other while throwing hands in the loading bay, but it's all meant with love <3
Do they keep around any sentimental items?
Accidentally answered this more in the next question, but aside from those things… She keeps a few things from her parents/home on Earth. Photos of her with her parents, mostly.
Does Shepard actually like to collect model ships? If not, what do they display?
Eden doesn't collect them, but she has been gifted one. The model of the original Normandy sits proudly on her shelf, and she surrounds it with other small little things. A few fake plants, some books she's bought to read (whether or not she has gotten to them… well… it is what it is).
It's kind of sad, but she doesn't decorate much. It's mostly stuff she's received from others (e.g., if someone couldn't pay her for her help, and they've given her an heirloom, she keeps it and respects it).
How is Shepard with a gun? What about hand to hand?
Eden is scary with a gun. Expanding on that below.
As for hand to hand, she's capable (especially if she fights dirty and tunes into her biotic abilities). Even without them, though, she can hold her own against someone considerably larger.
Favorite weapon?
Assault rifles. I don't recall the specific models and all, but Eden likes how easy they are to modify and how versatile they are. Long range? No problem, can even change out the scope to get something with more zoom. Mid range? That's their speciality. Close range? Good stopping power and the perfect size for a blunt force attack.
Which version of the Normandy do they like best?
The SR-2. Having expanded command centers really sold her, but the layout just feels more streamlined to her. It's easier to find everything across the different levels, the crew has a larger quarter to themselves, everyone can get their own space and not worry too much about bumping into each other… It's just nice.
Do they approve of curing the genophage?
Absolutely. Eden was 50/50 at first (thanks propaganda!), but after everything she did with Wrex and Grunt (and for Tchanka), she knew that curing it was the right thing to do.
Does Shepard allow the rachni to live in me1?
She does, and for similar reasons to the last answer. She was kinda iffy about it, but talking with the Rachni Queen about it made her realize that it was just the better option than leaving her imprisoned and alone, or outright executing her.
Does Shepard practice any kind of self-care?
Not often, but when things get particularly hectic, she does try to unwind in a healthier way. It rarely works, but the few extra moments spent in bed, and her steadfast daily routine (same wakeup hours, same retire hours, consistent exercise, etc) do help… sort of.
What abilities do they rely on the most in a fight?
Despite being a vanguard, and having the skill set to use heavy-hitting biotic attacks, Eden tends to lean more into her weaponry/advanced combat abilities.
What is Shepard’s happy ending? What’s the dream that keeps them going?
Eden's ideal ending would be pretty close to what she actually achieved. Granted, she believes it would be nice if she could destroy the Reapers and survive the ordeal, but honestly? By the time that confrontation happens, she's motivated by the fact that she'll simply be saving lives. Countless lives.
Is your Shepard indoctrinated?
No, not in her primary verse. The closest she comes to the concept is when the Illusive Man takes hold of her in the Citadel and forces her to shoot Anderson. Leading up to that moment, and throughout the whole war with the Reapers, Eden knew she wouldn't have wanted to back down on the issue. But that moment in particular was what sold her more than anything: She would rather lay down her life to avenge Anderson and all those who have been lost, than to rely on something that (to her) sounds like a fringe theory.
(+1: what does Shepard smell like?)
Gunpowder lingers to every inch of her and her clothing. A subtle hint of something cosmic, airy; the biotic energy flowing through her. In the morning, conservative spritzes of an unlabeled bottle (an artifact from Earth, gifted to her by her mother every year on her birthday). The misted droplets are rich with warmth and spice. Australian sandalwood, cedar wood, cardamom, iris, violet, smoky alloy, ambrox, leather accord… An intoxicating, rustic perfume.
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
Check Me Out
I absolutely love this one - it was so much fun to write and I'm happy with the way it turned out! I hope you guys enjoy~
Word Count: 1011 Read on AO3 Rowaelin Month Master list
Day 4 of Rowaelin Month Prompt: Librarians or Libraries
~~~~
Aelin quietly walked into the library, and the anticipation of seeing a certain someone had her heart nearly pounding out of her chest.
Rowan was sitting behind the desk, glasses perched on his nose as his eyes moved across the page of the book he was reading. She was tempted to simply stand there and admire him from afar, but alas, most of the fun came from interacting with him.
“So,” she started once she approached him, “I see you like reading? Want to date a person who also likes to read?” Aelin spoke, giving him one of the dumbest pick up lines she’d ever heard, but it was well worth it to see a smile grace his face, no matter how reluctant it was.
“Shut up, Galanthynius,” he responded, rolling his eyes. “Just go find the book you’re here to find and get out.”
“Wow, rude,” she responded with a huff, placing a hand over her heart. “I’m one of your best customers!”
“And that would mean something if you’d actually be paying the library to keep going.”
Aelin paused before responding, “We could totally actually buy the library.”
Rowan’s eyes widened at that. “Aelin—do not actually ask your parents to do that. Who knows how badly you’d bleed them dry finishing your two bachelor degrees. Besides, I need somewhere to work to pay off my degree.”
“Ugh, fine,” she responded. “I’m going to go to the fantasy section.”
“Alright, I guess,” Rowan responded with a slight laugh before his eyes turned back down to the book.
“You could meet me there, and I could show you a whole new world.” That brought his eyes back up to her face, and he didn’t bother with a response, instead choosing to simply point her in the direction of the fantasy books. Aelin took the hint and sighed, walking away.
She spent some time perusing the shelves of books, trying to find the next book that would whisk her away into a brand new world for a period of time, but really, her mind was going back to Rowan and how exactly she would rope him into going out with her.
Aelin ran her finger over the spines of the books, seeing if any of them called out to her in particular, when an idea came to her and picked out a random book before walking back over to Rowan.
“Hey, you’re considered a librarian, right? Because you point me to my wildest imaginations,” she finished with a teasing grin. Rowan looked up at her before looking down at the book she’d set on the desk.
“Uh-huh, yeah, sure. I might do that, but that book certainly won’t.”
Aelin paused, really not expecting him to say that. “Huh?”
“You read that last week,” he responded with a laugh. “Just go find something, Aelin.” Aelin glanced down at the book, and sure enough, she’d just finished the book last week. Cursing, she picked the book up, fully intending to actually get a book she was planning to check out before going back to him when Rowan spoke up again, his green eyes glinting as his lips were turnt up slightly.
“You’re not as quiet as you think you are,” Rowan said, jerking his head to the old lady who was sitting at a desk nearby and glaring at Aelin for cursing. Flushing, she turned back to look at Rowan when she was struck with a brilliant idea.
“Am I too loud? Perhaps you should shush me with your lips on mine.”
“Go away, Aelin.”
“Live a little, Rowan,” she grumbled, but she took the book back to its rightful spot before picking out a book she’d actually would love to read. It was a book about a faerie queen who was caught in between the war of two realms, and honestly, the queen seemed like a badass and totally up Aelin’s ally.
Aelin flipped her hair over her shoulder as she stood in line behind a man who was checking out a few books with his little son. The boy turned to look at Aelin, and she sent the kid a small wave, and the boy simply hid behind his dad’s leg until Rowan was done checking their books out. Aelin decided to wave them goodbye despite how shy the boy was. Once they were out of her sight, Aelin stepped up to set the book down on the counter in front of Rowan so he could check it out for her when she caught the look on his face.
She narrowed her eyes, analyzing the way he was looking at her before quickly looking away and then looking at her again. “Seriously? That does it for you?” she spoke, jerking her head in the direction where the father and son had just left. “I had another pick up line ready too.”
Rowan snorted. “Was it something about how fine I am?”
“Of course not,” she retorted, “how obvious do you think I am? And besides, don’t even think about having kids until we’re married.”
He raised an eyebrow as he leaned in closer to her. “That’s not a problem for me, darling.”
“And don’t propose to me until we’ve graduated,” she threatened. “With both degrees in my case.”
Laughing, he just tugged her closer by her hand until she was close enough for him to kiss softly. He was incredibly private about their relationship, always opting to shy away from physical touches in public unless they were with friends, so she took advantage of how she could breathe him in.
“What was that for?” she asked, almost breathlessly, when they parted.
“I don’t care how long it takes because you have a hold on my heart.” Aelin smiled at his words, her heart soaring until they properly sank in, and she jerked away from him.
“Did you just pull a librarian pick up line on me?!”
“Hey, you weren’t doing it properly so I had to.”
“That’s not fair!”
“Come on, let’s go get lunch.”
“Oh, now you decide to leave work.”
84 notes
·
View notes
Text
Jealousy (Just Friends Part 3) - Cillian Murphy Imagine
Featuring: Cillian Murphy x Reader
Warning: SMUT
Words: 4865
READ PART ONE & TWO HERE
Wednesday Movie Night
It has been a few days since you’ve last seen Cillian and you really missed his company. It was almost like he was trying to avoid you for the past few days.
Fortunately, he agreed to come over to your place for a movie and some pizza and, in your mind, hopefully something else.
‘Pizza Delivery’ he said as he knocked on the door, making you laugh. He was on time, as usual, and you had just put Max to bed.
After some initial small talk, you sat down with your pizzas. Clearly, you didn’t want them to get cold.
‘So, what do you want to watch?’ Cillian asked.
‘I don’t know Cilly, you choose’ you said. Cillian knew a lot about movies and you really didn’t care. All you wanted to do was snuggle up with him, although this wasn’t something that came naturally to Cillian.
You were sleeping with each other for almost four weeks now and haven’t talked about it with any of your friends. It was your little secret, at least twice a week.
When you caught up with each other, you either did so as friends or both limited to your physical interactions to sex. Cillian had been reluctant to show affection towards you outside of the bedroom and sleepovers were rare. After all, he was pretty clear about what he wanted and you were nothing more than ‘friends with benefits’.
Whilst he mentioned to you before that he is simply was not interested in dating, sometimes you felt as though he didn’t consider dating you because there was 18 years between you.
It was almost like he felt guilty about it and this feeling of guilt crept in on him now and then. But, you didn’t see it this way. In your opinion, there was no reason for him to feel guilty. The difference in age didn’t matter to you and you simply felt close to him and enjoyed his company, regardless of his age.
You knew you were developing feelings for him and that the time would come where you have to tell him about it. But for now, you were afraid to lose him, not only for what you had but also as a friend.
All these thoughts wandered through your mind while Cillian continued to browse Netflix and you were only torn out of your thoughts once Cillian had finally found a movie to watch.
‘I haven’t seen this movie in years’ he said after browsing through some classics.
‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen it’ you said, although the name of the movie was familiar to you. It was a popular movie.
‘You have never seen Pulp Fiction?’ Cillian asked surprised.
‘No. But I’ve heard it’s good. When did it come out?’ you asked.
‘1994 I think. I remember going to the movies with my brother to watch it’ Cillian said.
‘That’s the year I was born, so it must be good. Let’s watch it’ you said with a chuckle, causing Cillian to become silent for a minute. Again, he realised how young you actually were. All the movies he grew up with in his late teens were movies you’ve probably never seen. Some even came out before you were born and this was uncomfortable for him to comprehend.
‘I think you will like it’ Cillian said as he pressed play and, after the initial moment of awkwardness, you got right into it. You enjoyed the movie. It was very weird and quirky, right up your ally.
But then again, watching movies with Cillian was quite entertaining in itself. He knew almost every line in the movie and was excellent in mimicking the characters. He clearly was a good actor.
In addition to the entertainment from Cillian, he offered up some kisses here and there. He knew that is what you wanted and he certainly enjoyed it as well.
The movie was slowly coming to end and, by that time, you couldn’t keep your hands of Cillian.
‘I am curious Cilly’ you said as the movie had finished and your hand had been rubbing over his thighs for the past ten minutes.
‘About?’ he asked as his hand ran over the side of your body, briefly touching your breasts.
‘How do you remember all these lines?’ you asked as your hands made their way over the bulge of his jeans.
‘I am an actor, that’s my job’ he said before he pulled you on top off him and kissed you.
‘Hmm…that’s kind of sexy. Perhaps I should help you rehearse some of your sexy scenes next time’ you suggested as you were rubbing against him.
‘I would probably find it difficult to concentrate’ Cillian said, before kissing you again and cupping your breasts with his hands. You weren’t wearing anything but a t-shirt and some panties, just the way he liked it.
Sitting on top of his lap, you could feel his erection. It never really took him long, usually just a few kisses and he was ready for you. He adored and desired you so much.
‘We should go to the bedroom’ you whispered as you didn’t want to risk Max walking in on you.
Cillian agreed and followed you into your bedroom, which had become a familiar place.
Your t-shirts came off almost immediately, both landing on the floor in front of your bed before Cillian moved closer towards you and ran his hands over your ass.
‘Fuck Y/N you drive me crazy, you know that?’ Cillian said before kissing you. His comment made you giggle.
‘I know’ you smirked in return as your hands moved to the bulge of Cillian’s jeans, unbuckling his belt and opening his zipper. You wanted him, badly.
After Cillian’s jeans came off, he pushed your back down to the bed gently before stroking his hands up and down your legs slowly.
He loved the feel of your skin and your taste and it wasn’t long until he leaned down in between your legs.
The width of his shoulders pushed your knees apart, opening you wide for him as he kissed you through your panties.
You shuddered at his hot breath against your pussy, and felt his fingers take hold of the panties, pulling them to the side, exposing you.
You shouted, a gasp and yell all wrapped up together, as his wet tongue lapped at you, long steady strokes over your entire pussy.
It felt sensational like always and it was difficult for you to keep quiet.
‘Cillian, oh god’ you moaned as his tongue circled around your clit, flicking at it, then returned lower to slide inside you as far as he could go, then back up again to your clit.
Your hips involuntarily started pushing up against him and it wasn’t long until the feeling of him pleasing you like this became too much.
‘Don’t stop’ you moaned as he used his hands to spread you open even wider while circling your clit.
You bucked, writhing against him as his tongue ran over your clit. You could feel his chin against you and the slight rasp of his day-old five-o’clock stubble against your thighs.
As his tongue kept on at you, you felt yourself climbing and climbing and climbing... When he finally sucked your clit into his mouth, which sent you over the edge.
‘Oh god Cillian, fuck’ you moaned as your orgasm washed over you and he eased off slowly.
‘I just love doing this to you Y/N’ he said as he crawled up the bed and kissed you.
It wasn’t long until he pushed down his briefs, exposing his hard cock.
You were desperate to feel him inside of you and reached down between his legs, stroking him in anticipation.
You spread your legs widely, allowing him to get comfortable in between them with his hips as he lined himself up with your entrance.
You let out a loud moan as you could feel the tip of his cock on your entrance. He was playing with you, but didn’t lower himself into you just yet.
‘Cillian please stop teasing’ you said and, without warning, he pushed into you.
You gasped loudly as he entered you. You loved feeling him like this, filling you completely.
After he gave you some time to adjust, he gently began moving his hips. His cock slipped in and out of you, his full length, in and out.
You went on like this for at least twenty minutes while exchanging passionate kisses.
‘I want you to take me’ you moaned in between kisses as you pulled him closer towards you, biting his lower lip gently.
He hadn’t heard you speak like this before but recalled your conversation about some of the sex scenes you had seen in a couple of movies.
‘Get on your knees’ he whispered as he pulled out of you gently.
You did as he instructed while he stepped up next to the bed with the fronts of his thighs pressed against the mattress. With his hands on your hips, he pulled you back towards him and reached down between you, using his hand to line up his cock with your pussy.
You gasped again when you felt the head of him push in between your lips from behind, slowly…very slowly.
‘Tell me you want more’ he whispered.
‘More Cillian, please’ you whimpered. Your breath was fluttery and fast.
As the words came out of your mouth, he pushed in to you, all the way, burying himself deep inside. You could feel him almost all the way to your stomach.
You closed your eyes and your head went back. He stayed deep inside of you, for what felt ages, then pulled out all the way, his cock head slipping out almost completely. Then again, deep, pushing in all the way.
‘Fuck me, please’ you gasped as he kept teasing you. You needed to feel him moving inside of you – hard, fast and urgent.
He started to move, pumping slowly in and out, his body close over your, his hips moving back and forth. After a moment, he picked up the pace, thrusting into you harder and harder, just as you wanted.
His cock felt so good you didn’t want it to stop, but you knew that, after another fifteen minutes, it would have to come to an end.
He had amazing self-control, but you were nearing another orgasm and your legs began to shake, giving way slowly.
Cillian could feel your walls tightening around him as your moans were getting louder and your breathing became laboured.
‘Don’t come’ you said in between moans, which was much to Cillian’s surprise.
As he could tell that you were close, he increased his speed and moved one of his hands between your legs, rubbing your clit.
‘Oh god!’ you shouted, loosing control as yet another orgasm washed over you.
He continued to thrust into you until you came down from your high, then slowing down his thrusts until he pulled out of you.
‘Stay there’ you said as you turned around and sat at the edge of the bed, right in front of him, and guided his hard and wet cock into your mouth.
‘Fuck Y/N’ he moaned as he watched take you in all the way into the back of your throat.
You moved your tongue up and down his hard shaft firmly before running circles over his tip and continued these movements for while.
Cillian began to struggle to contain himself. Watching you suck his cock like this was too much for him.
You knew he was getting close as his cock began pulsating and you could tell that he was holding back.
‘I want to taste you, all of you’ you said in between your movements and that was all he needed to hear.
Within moments, you could feel one of his hands curling up in your, with no force but rather for support.
His breathing was becoming laboured and his head fell back and his eyes closed as, with one loud moan, he filled your mouth with his warm cum.
‘Fuck Y/N’ he said as his entire body was pulsating while he slowly came down from his high.
‘Hmm, I always wanted to do this’ you said with a smirk after swallowing pretty much everything.
Cillian pretty much collapsed next to you on the bed just before you excused yourself for a minute to clean up.
As you returned, you curled up in his arms and the two of you exchanged several passionate kisses and went on with your usual pillow talk, which was something you truly enjoyed.
‘I better head of, I’ve got an appointment tomorrow morning’ Cillian said after about 20 more minutes.
You desperately wanted him to stay but you knew that he wasn’t always comfortable with it and, therefore, you didn’t ask. The last few times you suggested it, he declined and you decided not to bother unless he brings it up.
You wanted him, but did he want you as much as you want him? You always asked yourself this question and then remembered that all of this was your own fault, you suggested and agreed to ‘no strings attached’…
Thursday at Cillian’s house
The next day, after Cillian’s appointment, he met up with his friend Jim and his kids as he bailed on Jim last night in order to spend time with you.
‘So where were you yesterday?’ Jim asked.
‘Just watching a movie’ Cillian answered as Charlie, Hendricks and Jim’s son Thomas continued with their game of hide and seek.
Hendricks was quick to sneak in between them, to make his way behind the lounge.
‘Don’t tell them I am here ok?’ Hendricks said. Cillian and Jim agreed and dropped a blanket onto him carefully to help him hide.
‘You need get out man, you won’t meet anyone being at home watching movies’ Jim laughed, almost forgetting about Hendricks hiding behind them.
‘Who said I want to meet anyone’ Cillian said.
‘You are talking about girls aren’t you?’ Hendricks said as he pulled the blanket off his head.
‘No Hendricks, Jim is just trying to say that I should socialise more’ Cillian explained.
‘It’s alright dad, I am not stupid you know’ Hendricks said firmly. ‘You know Y/N could be your girlfriend, she is nice’ he added.
‘Y/N…do you mean Max’s mum?’ Jim asked surprised while Cillian’s face flushed almost instantly.
‘Yes, Max’s mum, she had a sleep over a few weeks ago’ Hendricks explained.
‘Oh did she?’ Jim asked with laughter while looking at Cillian, a thousand questions running through his mind.
‘She stayed in the guestroom. Max and the boys were having a playdate and…’ Cillian explained and, before he could finish his sentence, Hendricks interrupted.
‘No she didn’t, she stayed in your room’ Hendricks said as, just in this moment, Charlie found his brother.
‘Alright boys, how about you go play in your room’ Cillian said as Jim kept starring at him.
‘Y/N is in her mid 20s man, are you going all George Clooney now?’ Jim said with some laughter.
‘It’s nothing serious. We are just having a bit of fun. No strings attached’ Cillian said, causing Jim to raise his eyebrows and let Cillian explain.
‘Your secret is safe with me man’ Jim said after Cillian and him discussed the situation a bit more and Cillian asked Jim to keep this to himself.
‘Just so you know, she is having a date tonight’ Jim said as he thought that Cillian should know about. He never knew Cillian to be the type of man who got involved with a woman he didn’t actually care about in one way or another.
‘With whom?’ Cillian asked curiously.
‘Jeremy Dwyer. I think I introduced you to him a while ago?’ Jim said, before he explained that his wife Nadine had organised the date.
‘The writer?’ Cillian asked as he vaguely recalled his introduction to him.
‘Yes, Nadine thought they will get along quite well’ Jim said as he noticed Cillian’s mind tick over.
It was obvious to Jim that Cillian felt uncomfortable about the date. After all, Jeremy was in his early thirties and quite attractive.
‘To be honest, I don’t think he is her type’ Cillian said with a slightly annoyed voice.
‘Do I smell some jealousy here?’ Jim asked.
‘No man, she can do whatever she wants, I don’t care’ Cillian exclaims.
‘She sure can, because she is not your girlfriend’ Jim reminded Cillian.
‘Exactly, now can we change the topic?’ Cillian asked.
Thursday at your house
Meanwhile, at your house, you were getting dressed for your date. You weren’t keen on going but you had promised Nadine and you thought, why not, as you really had no certainty with Cillian.
Jeremy picked you up at 5pm, just after your grandmother had arrived to babysit Max.
He was taking you to an Italian restaurant.
The date went well and you really liked Jeremy. Although you couldn’t see yourself with him, he was nice company.
Also, it was a real date, even somewhat romantic. This was something you really wished you would do with Cillian at some point but you knew your expectations in this regard were probably unrealistic.
In fact, you have been trying hard to get Cillian out of your head after the last encounter you had with him. You weren’t angry with him, because you knew what you signed up for when suggesting an arrangement with no strings attached. However, you felt lost as you wanted more.
You didn’t just want him to leave after you slept with each other.
Just as your mains arrived and you pondered on about it all and enjoyed the fact that you are on an actual date, your phone beeps.
It was Cillian, asking whether you wanted to catch up with him later.
You desperately wanted to respond because all you could think of now was Cillian.
Jeremy was nice, but you didn’t have the same connection you had with Cillian. In fact, you found it difficult to maintain a conversation with Jeremy and frequently compared him to Cillian which wasn’t a good start.
After about two hours at the restaurant, Jeremy suggested that he will drive you home and you reluctantly agreed. It was cold outside and you really didn’t want to walk.
The drive was 15 minutes and rather awkward. You didn’t talk much and you didn’t know what to say or do when he would pull up at the front door of your terrace.
‘I had a lovely evening, Y/N’ Jeremy said as the moment had come and he stopped in front of your house.
‘As did I, thank you for dinner’ you said.
‘Would you like me to come in for drink?’ Jeremy said.
‘I am sorry, but my son is home with my grandmother, it would be awkward’ you explained.
‘I understand, maybe next time if you would be happy enough to go on another date with me’ Jeremy said before leaning in for a kiss.
‘Yes, I would love to’ you said quickly in order to avoid the kiss.
You gave him a quick peck on the cheek and opened the car door.
‘Thank you again’ you said as you felt totally uncomfortable.
You waived at him and rushed through the door where you were greeted by your grandmother.
‘How was your date love?’ she asked curiously.
‘Fine, thanks nan’ you said as you got yourself a glass of water and sat down next to her.
‘Just fine?’ she asked.
‘He is lovely, but…’ you said and, before you could finish your sentence, your grandmother interrupted you.
‘But you like someone else’ she said, causing you to nod.
Whilst you had never spoken about it, you knew that your grandmother knew that you were involved with Cillian.
‘Well, personally I would go Tommy Shelby over the writer of The Making of Tomorrow as well, but that is just me’ your grandmother said jokingly. After all, she had watched every season of Peaky Blinders on Netflix.
‘Nan!’ you said with embarrassment before you talked a bit more about your relationship with Cillian and she gave you some advice.
‘Now go to bed sweetie, you have long day at work tomorrow and don’t forget, I will pick up Max tomorrow night to go to Galway with me. We will be back on Tuesday’ your grandmother reminded you before saying goodbye to you, giving you a kiss on the cheek.
‘Love you nan and thank you again’ you said before waving her goodbye.
Despite the fact that you wanted to see Cillian desperately, you didn’t cave that night and didn’t respond to his message.
That night, Cillian did not sleep well. All he could think about was you and how your date may have went. He hated the thought of you being with another man.
Friday Night Drinks
The following evening, Cillian still hadn’t heard from you and head to the pub with some of his friends. He texted you to see whether you wanted to come as well, but also has not received any response.
To his surprise, Jeremy was at the pub, chatting to Nadine and Jim.
‘You remember Jeremy?’ Nadine said.
‘I do. How are you Jeremy?’ Cillian asked as he shook Jeremy’s hand, causing Jim to chuckle. This was an awkward situation for Cillian and only himself and Jim knew about it.
‘Pretty good, how about you?’ Jeremy asked before ordering himself a beer.
After some initial small talk, it didn’t take Nadine long to ask Jeremy about his date with you and Jeremy gave her a quick rundown.
Knowing that Cillian liked you, Jim tried to extract as much information from Jeremy as possible but he was a gentleman and didn’t gave away too much other than the fact that you agreed to go on another date with him.
‘I see how it goes, she seems very shy’ Jeremy said, causing Cillian to raise his eyebrows. He didn’t recall you being shy at all. At least with him you are not.
Jeremy then proceeded to ask for suggestions from Nadine as to where he should take you.
‘Perhaps take her to the Dublin Fair, then Dinner’ Nadine said.
‘That could be amusing considering that Y/N gets motion sick easily’ Cillian said sarcastically before excusing himself to get a beer. He really couldn’t stand the thought of listening to Nadine and Jeremy discussing his next date with you.
As he reached the bar, Cillian felt his phone vibrate in his pocket.
It was you, and you were hysterical and crying.
Since it was very noisy at the bar, Cillian couldn’t understand everything that you were saying. All he could hear was that you were upset and something had happened at your work.
‘Y/N, I can’t hear you properly. Can you tell me slowly what’s wrong?’ Cillian asked concerned, causing you to blurt out ‘Just Everything’ before rambling on.
‘Take a deep breath Y/N…’ Cillian said, causing you to try and collect your thoughts.
‘Are you safe?’ he proceeded to ask as you calmed down.
‘Yes, I am just…I am sorry’ you said, feeling embarrassed about having called him.
‘It’s alright Y/N. Now tell me where you are and I come and get you’ Cillian said.
‘At home, in front of the door. I locked myself out, of course, as if my day couldn’t get any more shit’ you said as you were still sobbing.
‘I will be there in 10 minutes, alright?’ Cillian said and left his beer at the bar.
‘What’s wrong man?’ Jim asked as he finally found Cillian while Cillian was walking back towards the table to get his jacket.
‘I have to go man, sorry’ Cillian responded before walking off, leaving Jim to ponder.
Cillian drove to your house quickly and you were somewhat relieved as you saw his car pull up.
‘Hey, are you alright?’ he said he took you into his arms in front of your house. You were pretty cold by this time.
‘I am sorry Cilly, I have just been an emotional mess today’ you said.
‘You can tell me all about what happened over a glass of wine, alright?’ Cillian said reassuring as he walked over to the side of the house.
‘Yeah well…that might be a while. I will have to call a locksmith’ you said.
‘Nah, you usually leave the bathroom window open, don’t you?’ Cillian asked.
‘Yes, but…’ you said, and before you could say anything else, Cillian walked to the bathroom window and removed the fly screen and pushed open the window all the way.
‘Meet me at the front door’ Cillian said after he moved Max’s small outdoor table beneath the window and climbed inside.
Within moments, Cillian opened the front door for you and you were speechless.
‘Did you do this before?’ you asked.
‘Let’s just say I sneaked in and out of my parents’ house now and then when I was younger’ he said with a slight chuckle.
It wasn’t long until you sat down with Cillian and Cillian asked you why you have been so upset.
You told Cillian that you had a huge argument with your boss who wanted to pull your column after you put in over 80 hours over the past two weeks to meet the deadline. This was all after he already changed his mind several times with respect to the content.
‘I just feel like a failure…I suck at this and I am a shit mum, spending so little time with Max’ you said as tears were building up in your eyes again.
‘Then someone drove into my bloody car…’ you added and, before you could finish your sentence with tears running down your face, Cillian stopped you from getting wound up even further.
‘Listen Y/N, you are being very hard on yourself. You are an amazing mother and you are amazing at your job. I have seen your work and it is much better than the work of some women double your age. Your boss is just being a prick by the sounds of it’ Cillian said as he took your hand into his.
‘Max can be lucky to have a mother like you and, with respect to the car, it can be fixed. I can lend you mine if you get stuck’ he added just before you leaned in and kissed him. Your lips were tasting salty from the tears but Cillian didn’t seem to mind.
‘Thank you Cillian’ you said.
‘For what?’ Cillian asked.
‘Just for listening and being here for me’ you said before offering him a glass of wine.
As you went into the other room to get a bottle of wine from the box that had arrived via post a few days ago, you received a text message from Jeremy.
Cillian noticed the message. After all, your phone was lying directly in front of him and your phone settings showed a preview of all of your messages.
‘Would you like to go on another date on Saturday night?’ was all it said and it made Cillian feel uncomfortable. He still didn’t like the thought of you possibly seeing someone else but he knew he had no right to get upset about it.
Without looking at your phone, you sat down next to him, pouring two glasses of Cabernet Sauvignon.
‘You said that your grandmother had Max until Tuesday right?’ Cillian asked.
‘Yes, they are in Galway until then’ you responded.
‘How about we go away tomorrow morning for the long weekend?’ Cillian suggested.
‘What, just you and me?’ you asked rather surprised.
‘Yeah, just you and me. I have a holiday house in Kerry and we can go on some walks and do some sightseeing if you want’ Cillian suggested.
You were surprised by Cillian’s suggestion. It was unlike him. He was usually more reluctant to do things like this with you, being worried that it could send the wrong message.
‘Uhm yes, sure. I would love to’ you responded as Cillian ran his hand over your cheek.
‘Good’ Cillian said before asking you to move closer.
He wrapped his arms around you and you snuggled into him, pulling the warm crochet blanket on your lounge over the both of you.
You both talked for a while and listened to some music while Cillian was running his hands through your hair, giving you goosebumps.
‘Do you want me to stay over?’ Cillian asked as he could tell that you were close to falling a sleep.
‘I don’t think I am up for much action tonight, sorry Cilly’ you said.
‘That’s not what I meant Y/N. We can just talk and sleep and I can do this for a little while longer’ he said as he kept massaging your head and neck gently.
‘Hmm, yes please’ you purred at the sensation.
#cillian murphy smut#cillian murphy#Cillian Murphy x Reader#cillian murphy imagine#Tommy Shelby#tommy shelby smut#tommy shelby x reader#tommy shelby imagine
318 notes
·
View notes
Text
Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 7.25}
*Severus Snape x OC*
Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend... and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.
General warnings: professor x student, blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing
Words: 5.2k
Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!
______________________________
Two minutes after the elaborate goodnight wishes, the five girls were finally on their way down to the dungeons. Cas was babbling away as always, entertaining both Melissa and Lisa to the fullest, while Jorien and Robin merely listened and observed as they followed behind. The three girls up front barely made it down the spiral staircase, giggling as they were, but not even the gloomy darkness of the dungeon hallways could bring the calm and quiet of the night into their conversation as they happily chatted on and on about the many highlights of the dance. Thus it wasn't surprising when a minute later nobody took notice of Robin's quiet yelp as she was whisked away from the group in a crossing of one gloomy hallway with an even darker one.
The adrenaline in Robin's blood skyrocketed immediately, the yelp dying on her lips in a broken moment of initial surprise. Then the familiar arm around her waist and the comforting scent of home quenched every spark of fear or panic in her mind.
She found herself pressed against the cold stone wall a second later, kept in place by the weight of his body while his soft lips on her own demanded a fire she gladly returned, and every last cell in her body lit up in roaring flames as an immediate response. Her heart was bursting, drumming furiously against her ribcage while its echoes pulsed through her entire body in sheer blissful heat. Oh bloody fucking hell, this was magnificent… breathtaking, in every sense of the word. And it still was terribly dangerous, even here now in the dark. That, perhaps, was the only flaw of the moment, their one and only honest mistake.
"Are you aware that you are way too good at this?" Snape finally asked, ragged breaths brushing against Robin's skin as he leaned his forehead against hers. Upon this she smiled, but her eyes stayed closed as she found herself too overwhelmed to open them. She didn't need to; she could feel him, his presence, his warmth, his entire being…
"Really?" She finally let out a humoured and incredulous huff in reply. How could she be any good at this if she had never kissed anyone before? Was her lack of experience really not all that noticeable?
"Without a doubt. I would never allow myself to get this carried away in a school hallway of all places if you didn't enchant me beyond any measure. Beyond any reason."
"Sev-..." She was cut off by his lips, both in word and thought and she lost every string of reason that had just started to gather back together. Oh screw experience, they were way too good at this to even think of that. She must be doing something very right if he couldn't stop this madness either, couldn't resist the growing addiction.
It once again was the noise of people crossing by in a hallway close by that broke them apart, and only then Robin noticed for the first time how much it hurt to stand on one's tiptoes for an extended amount of time. For a kiss like that, she still would do it again and again any time.
"I should apologise for seizing you like that without your permission." He finally said when the retiring students' laughter and chattering had faded in the distance, then he took a step backwards to give Robin her space as well. "Who knew I could act like a dunderhead myself, given the chance."
"Oh, I knew." Robin couldn't help grinning as she stepped away from the wall, which earned her a small glare and a not-smirk. "And as much as I understand and appreciate your point, you do have my permission. Besides, where would be the point in suddenly pressing me against a wall and kissing me senseless if it came with a warning?"
Snape didn't look at her, but the corners of his lips were twitching and she could tell with utmost certainty that he was amused even though being rather flustered at the same time. It was surprisingly adorable, really, and made her wonder if he had never been in such a situation before. Well, not exactly the same situation, obviously, but still…
"I have wanted to do that for a long time now." He replied to her surprise, and his eyes were back on hers, dark and intense and every last idea of adorable was gone. Instead, his gaze made Robin shiver in delighted excitement. "But never would I have thought that it would be better than anything I was even vaguely able to imagine."
"You imagined kissing me?"
"More often than I should admit to, if I want to keep some last scraps of dignity at least."
"I've seen you lying in a muddy river before, as well as being stuck in a giant cobweb. And if that's not enough, we were just snogging in the hallways like the hormonal teenagers we scold for doing the very same. I think it's a bit too late to worry about your dignity with me." Robin chuckled, louder even when Snape rolled his eyes exaggeratedly, but her heart soared when he smiled again after all. "We really should get out of the hallways though, I'm tired of fearing people might run into us. I really don't see how the danger of getting caught can be appealing to someone, for me it's just nerve-wracking."
"I could not agree more."
After taking two seconds to straighten out their appearances just in case, they made their way through the gloomy darkness side by side like they had done so often by now, with the small but significant change that the accidental touches, the brushing of hands and bumping of arms were more intentional than not this time, and both knew it to be their fullest intention as well. Robin couldn't keep the grin off her face, but she bit her bottom lip to tone it down as much as possible. She hadn't felt so much giddy excitement in one night since… well, ever really. And when they walked right past the office, then past the lab as well, a liquid lightning ran from the top of her head down her spine to her very core and every cell beyond. These new rushes were only an additional layer to the bottomless adoration and affection that had been there for years now, to the deeply rooted love she held for him, but it was a heavenly addition nonetheless. It certainly gave the term 'allconsuming' an entirely new meaning, an inevitably deeper one.
It was only when Snape stopped in the crossing of hallways that on one end led to the common room and to his rooms on the other that Robin's smile faltered. With a confused frown she didn't bother to hide she came to a halt as well, looking up at him with the question clear as night in her eyes so she wouldn't have to say the words. It was safer than admitting to being as boldly assuming as she had been… somehow she hadn't doubted that they would at least have a coffee. Like always. Or… did he need space now, with everything that had happened? After all the days and nights they had spent together, he didn't really strike Robin as the kind of person who would need space, not from her. From others, yes, always if possible, but he hadn't sent her away in years, rather on the contrary really. So-...
"I don't know if this could be considered a good idea by any means." He said in a calm tone, reluctant almost while yet he reached out for Robin's hand and pulled her closer to himself. Always the contradiction, that man…
"And why wouldn't it be a good idea?" She asked in return, calm encouragement colouring her voice now that she knew the reason for his hesitation wasn't a sudden wish for distance. Indeed, as if to prove that point, he interlaced their fingers and drew her closer the last bit in a single move of gentle elegance.
"Because if you come with me right now, I won't let you leave again until we are late for breakfast." He replied quietly and yet in that intense sincerity that had Robin's heart skipping beats while her eyes were glued to his. Gods, he really did mean it… excitement struck her like lightning, her heartbeat posed the thunder.
"I can live with that." She managed to say in a breath, her lips curving up into a smile upon the repetition of his earlier words. Then they formed a smirk as she went on. "Bold of you to assume that I'll want to leave for breakfast though."
"Oh, I've never been partial to having three meals per day anyway."
His reply made Robin laugh, then smile up at him brightly and with just a hint of tease. "It's not such a bad idea after all, huh?"
"That would depend entirely on who you ask." He quirked an eyebrow at her with a not-smirk, then walked on down the hallway with a start while keeping hold of Robin's hand. She didn't need to be not-told twice to follow, and was again walking by his side when he spoke on. "I for my part cannot complain, and I honestly don't care about any other opinion but yours beyond that."
"Complaining wouldn't help you at this point anyway, because I have recently discovered the perfect way to bribe you."
"Is that so?"
"Open the door and I'll show you." Robin replied easily but with a teasing smirk no less once they reached his rooms in the bow of the hallway.
"Don't tempt me."
"Isn't that what a temptation is supposed to do?" She quipped while her smirk broadened. "Tempt?"
"You are insufferable."
"Or perhaps tease? Allure? Seduce? Ens-..." She didn't get further when she was pulled through the now open door and into the darkness behind it, barely catching how it was thrown shut again before she found herself tightly trapped against it from the inside. The grin that wanted to form on her lips died a broken second later when she got exactly what she wanted, and yet, as always, so much more.
His lips moved against hers in hunger, returning every bit of passion she gave, and yet there wasn't a hint of roughness in the kiss, no blunt strength which would taint the blissful sensuality. In a spark of boldness or bravery, Robin traced the tip of her tongue over his bottom lip, only for him to gasp against her lips in return. When she wrapped her arms around his neck and did the same thing again, the gasp turned into a silent moan and he pulled her with him away from the door, staggering through the darkness with a baffling certainty until one unfortunate movement of his hand over the hurting spot on Robin's back made her first hiss in pain, then flinch at the intensity of it. He let go of her immediately in return, and Robin's first fathomable thought was a silent curse directed at Morgan for being the cause of what had broken apart this moment. The stupid pain in her back.
"What did I do this time?" Snape asked in honest concern as well as subtle remorse, and a second later the fireplace lit up from a wordless spell, illuminating the remainder of the room in a gentle orange golden glow. They had almost reached the sofa by now, obviously having made their way there before the pain had put a stop to their plans.
"You did absolutely nothing wrong, I promise." Robin immediately gave him a small but reassuring smile, and held onto him so he wouldn't even think about moving away. "It's just that spot on my back that's still hurting ever since Morgan touched it, it really doesn't matter. Don't worry."
"Your back simply started hurting out of nowhere upon his touch during the dance? And he didn't speak a word?" Snape still inquired further, in lingering concern but quite obviously more at ease now that he knew it wasn't his doing that had hurt her at least. Robin had to smile at his sheer inability not to worry about her; it made her heart soar in warmth and adoration all the more. And seeing as he wouldn't stop asking, now that she had brought the mysterious pain to his attention, they might just have to deal with it right now.
"Not a word that was a spell, at least… and yes, he just traced his fingers over my back and that caused a strong stinging and burning that faded a moment later though. Now it hurts whenever someone even comes close to touching it. That's why I flinched so stupidly." She shrugged with a half smile. "Sorry for that."
"Don't apologise for what clearly isn't your fault. I should curse Morgan into oblivion for hurting you right in this instant… but I would rather take your pain away if I can." Snape sighed, then paused for a moment, lost in thought, before he finally spoke up again. "Did it hurt when your back hit the wall? Or the door? Or is it just a hand's touch that hurts?"
The question made Robin frown to herself; she hadn't considered that. The answer she came up with for herself then rendered her frown even deeper. "I believe it's just an actual human touch that causes me pain. It didn't hurt at all when I leaned against whatever surface, and neither does the dress make it sore or anything like that… But you and the girls could hurt me quite a bit by just touching any spot on my back. What does that mean?"
"I have a vague idea." He grumbled to himself at the thought of it, and Robin understood the sentiment only too well in this regard. "Can you touch it without pain?"
"I can try…" She mused and did just that, but even though she only barely could reach the spot with the back of her fingers when she twisted her arm enough, there should have been at least a little sting. But no, nothing, no pain at all. She frowned to herself again. "That's weird. I can't even precisely tell you where it is when it doesn't hurt… and I can touch it without pain. Perhaps it's nothing."
"Magical wounds should not be taken lightly, especially if inflicted by someone as irresponsible as Morgan. We should take you to the hospital wing."
"Or you could look at it here." Robin suggested easily, shrugging with one shoulder as she observed his reluctant but not averse expression. "You know more about the situation with Morgan, about what happened tonight and about me than anyone in the infirmary. I really don't mean to doubt their abilities at all, but I think if it's a magical thing of more or less unknown origin, it falls more into the dark arts anyway, which precisely is the point where I would prefer you to look at it. Who knows, maybe it really is nothing and we're through with it in two minutes… we could save ourselves the time of way. I have other plans for tonight than sitting around the infirmary with a bunch of punch-drunk students."
"Do you?" He couldn't help the smirk on his lips upon that, even though it was clear that he was trying to fight the short lived amusement due to the otherwise serious situation. At least it wasn't serious enough to warrant the complete absence of humour on his end, so that was a relief at least.
"Yeah, actually. I was hoping for a drink and the continuation of where we were interrupted, but I'm still open for further suggestions." She smiled up at him and he rolled his eyes, but the amusement stayed nonetheless, which sufficed to give Robin some more courage. They'd be through with this in no time, they always had been when she'd been injured. "Do you happen to know a spell to undo a million tiny buttons? I haven't found one yet, but if anyone knows such a thing, it would have to be you."
He let out an amused huff, then quirked an eyebrow at Robin. "I believe if there was such a spell, I would have discovered it by now. Every time I tried to invent one myself however, it led to the destruction of the garment rather than the desired result. Therefore I unfortunately have to disappoint you. Why do you ask?"
"Because it would have spared you work." She chuckled, somewhere between humour and embarrassment, the latter of which however she strongly tried to reason against. He'd seen her in various stages of undress over time, and it had never been a big deal. Or had it? Would he think differently of it now than he had over summer? Gods, why was she nervous now?! It wasn't even the kind of situation where she should be nervous, they were just trying to make sure that her back was alright, for heaven's sake! And she still stood with her point that she would rather have Snape looking at her injuries than anyone else, even in complete disregard to the most recent developments between them. This had nothing to do with that, it was just a coincidence. An oddly fitting one, going by the line of events.
Robin resisted the temptation to roll her eyes at herself and her antics and merely turned around so that her back was right in front of him, making an obvious point of what she wanted him to do. This wasn't a movie; plots didn't just fall into place like that. Two things could happen without any obvious correlation between them. She sighed, then focused on the task at hand. "Perhaps I should've worn a dress with a zipper like everyone else, huh? Then again, I wasn't really expecting anyone having to undress me tonight."
She didn't need to look at him to know that he was hesitating, and if she was honest, she couldn't really blame him. Truth was that things were different now, or could be different now, and it was uncharted territory for both of them. Either of them was uncertain what to make of it, afraid to make a wrong move. At least it brought some peace and relief to her mind that he obviously was just as insecure as she was in this new and yet so very familiar moment of innocent intimacy. Even though things like this had happened in the plenty over summer already.
"We're just looking at my back for the damage Morgan did yet again… Just like the times he dislocated my shoulder, or cut open my hand, or-... well, you know what I mean. You've seen me torn up and bloody before, and we've always taken care of it. And I know for a fact that your hands aren't cold, so there really is nothing to worry about, right?" She said in a calm, almost soothing voice, both to him and herself, and contrary to what she had thought, it actually caused an overwhelming wave of ease and comfort to wash over her when he finally started with the first button in the back of her neck. When his fingers brushed against her skin however, her breathing hitched nonetheless while goosebumps covered her skin within a broken second. Perhaps this wasn't entirely like it had been over summer… But comfort and excitement were what it caused yet again, and that really seemed to be a reoccurring theme with them. Their own perfect ambivalence. Home and adventure at once.
It didn't take long at all until the buttons were open down to her waist, just far enough so she could slip the spiky and stiff shoulder parts off her arms, which left her to clutch the front of her dress to her chest quite a bit more tightly than necessary. Robin blamed the neckline of her dress for making her forsake any kind of bralette… It left her upper body entirely bare now, and that in return was the reason why she was clutching the front of the dress to her chest. But then again, she didn't really mind it too much if she was being honest with herself. Having an excuse to show some skin… forcing her to be bolder than she was… it really was terribly exciting for some stupid reason. A lucky coincidence, even if a bit poorly timed. Most of all however, Robin liked the reaction she was getting from the man behind her, judged by the fact that his heartbeat had doubled in speed by the time her back was exposed to him almost entirely. There it was again, that overwhelming excitement that came with the power she seemed to have over him… the knowledge that her mere being did such things to him. But they were just looking at her back for the spellwork done on her, and she gave herself a mental slap to stop pondering how they could go on from there. Unrelated situations, and all that…
"So… how does it look?" She finally asked in a surprising calmness, considering that her every sense was heightened to the extreme. Gods, she wanted him to touch her skin again, even if it would hurt… No, bad thought, bad Robin! There was work to do, and she was getting distracted!
"Like three hand-length cuts that seem to have scarred. Did you ever notice those before? They look far older than just a few hours." He mused in return, then carefully pulled Robin closer to the fireplace by her elbow. She didn't resist and merely walked backwards blindly until she was in the direct light of the fire, and thereby also in the reach of its warmth. He stopped her there, and for a moment she wondered if he needed the light or if he had just noticed the goosebumps on her skin. Duh, obviously he had… they were hard to miss, even if they weren't at all caused by the cold. Either way, his hand lingered on her arm, and that was even more welcome than the fire's warmth.
"Actual scars? I don't think I've had them before, no. And truth be told, you probably would've seen them before if they had been there for longer." She finally remembered to reply, then frowned to herself. "And in addition to that, I can't remember ever getting severely injured on the back. Other than the thing with the bludger in fifth year, that is… I never really knew exactly how badly I hurt myself there, and I never dared to ask."
"Badly enough to have me terrified of your impending death."
"Oops…" She breathed rather lamely, then chuckled to herself almost apologetically. "I guess passing out in the infirmary right in front of your eyes didn't help much with that."
"No. Neither did it prepare me for the instance last summer where you actually came close to death when you passed out on my doorstep." He said in a sigh, then the hand on Robin's arm vanished as he spoke on. "Let us ensure that it won't happen again and find out what that pest of a man did to you this time. Tell me when the pain becomes noticeable, yes?"
Robin only hummed in agreement, and jumped a second later when he placed a hand on her shoulder this time, in a gentle touch that had her melting right on the spot. Slowly and with just enough pressure to be noticeable at all, his fingers danced across her skin, down to her shoulder blade and over her spine, tracing three lines at last with a bit more pressure. Robin had to bite her lip to keep in both a sigh of bliss and a whimper of pain. For some odd reason these two were currently very hard to tell apart in that they both caused an echo of his touch, a heat pulsing through her in the rhythm of her heartbeat.
"Didn't that hurt at all?" He asked with a frown practically ingrained in his tone, as well as confusion in the plenty, and Robin had to call defeat to circumstance.
"Oh. Yes, it did. Sorry, I really should have said something." She admitted in a quiet voice, then got a grasp of herself and continued on a little louder. "But I didn't want you to stop, so I kind of… forgot speech over the overwhelming feeling of having your touch on my back at all."
"You do make it very difficult for me to focus on the problem at hand when you say things like that."
His words brought a smile to Robin's face as it suddenly eradicated the nervousness, and she was only glad that he couldn't see it. "I'm sorry."
"You're not."
"True, I'm not." She couldn't help chuckling at her own half-hearted attempt to fool him, and even more at his trenchant ability to see right through her. "But I'll try to focus on the problem now instead of how amazing your hands feel on my skin."
"Robin…" He warned her quietly, but she could still hear the smirk in his voice, and that's when she couldn't help laughing.
"It's really not my fault!" She protested, and almost would've dropped her arms in a grand gesture if she hadn't remembered just why she was holding her dress in place in the very last second. This entire situation was as ridiculous as it was dangerous as it was wonderful. "You try focusing on anything beyond the tingles when your entire body is a goddamn wildfire!"
"I am trying right now, and you're not making it any easier. The sight of you alone is distracting enough."
"Just that little bit of skin is supposedly doing to you what your touch does to me? Sorry, but I sincerely doubt it."
"You shouldn't." He replied entirely seriously now, and the mere tone of his voice was enough to make Robin shiver again. "It does not take naked skin or fancy gowns for me to think of you as far more than simply ‘delectable’. You are nothing short of the most breathtaking creature I have ever been blessed to see, to stay with the trivial matter of physical appearance for once. But indeed, while I could not care less for others' looks and garments, you never fail to enchant me entirely with any of yours, and seeing as I have previously not had the opportunity to see quite so much of your skin, it does affect me quite strongly now at long last."
Robin's heart skipped a beat, then set into a steady gallop that made it delightfully hard to breathe. But for some reason, the words on her lips did not care for that at all. "You make it very difficult for me to focus on the problem at hand when you say things like that." She mirrored his statement, smiling to herself at the thought. "But do you actually mean it or are you just trying to get revenge on me by equal terms?"
"Both, obviously, but the latter is rather a lucky side effect of the former. And since we are discussing it already, you can call me blind if you will, but I do actually find your hair very attractive on any day, especially because it is a perfect mess." He answered easily, while his fingers continued to trace irregular patterns over the injured part of her back that seemed to hurt more and more by the minute. "Even though I very much appreciate the recent absence of the pineapple scent."
Robin found that she didn't mind the pain, especially not when his reference to her words from earlier this evening as well as the dreaded pineapple made her laugh, and the knowledge that he did, in fact, mean all of those things he'd said made her skin tingle pleasantly. He never made shallow compliments; when he deliberately said something nice for once, one could be sure that he meant it to the fullest.
"I think that might be among the loveliest things you have ever said to me." She smiled after a moment, when her soaring heart would let her speak up through the haze of emotions. "Directly said to me, that is. You say a lot of nice things when you don't mean to."
"Don't get used to it. What a crazy world would we be living in if I started saying nice things regularly now… It would entirely destroy the efficiency and purpose of my compliments." He scoffed in obvious sarcasm and tease, while placing his second hand on her shoulder to keep her in place for whatever he was doing.
"You're an idiot, Sev-..." Robin's words and laughter were cut off with a start when Snape placed his other hand directly on the hurting spot on her back, with quite a bit more pressure than before. It caused a pain far too strong for any measure to ripple through her every sense, and a well of tears to spring to her eyes in return. "Ouch! God damn and bloody hell…"
"I might be an idiot, but an idiot who can focus far better when we banter as usual. That seems to have become somewhat of a precondition for me to be able to work efficiently." He returned, then removed his hands from her entirely before he spoke on in a much more tainted tone. "I apologise for having to hurt you, but in order to undo the spell before it became even more dangerous, that unfortunately was inevitable. Now however, the pain should be gone once and for all in just a moment."
"Wait, you… you know what Morgan did to me and just… undid it like that?" Robin turned around to face him with a deep frown creasing her brows in an instant. "Is that what you were doing while we talked?"
"Yes."
"And you didn't bother telling me?! At least a little warning, perhaps?"
"I had the choice between distracting you by making you laugh and thereby forget about the pain I was unfortunately causing in the process, or to further said pain even more by talking about Morgan and his vile doings." He replied so easily that it made perfect sense now, that it appeared to be the most obvious solution ever. "As you see, it wasn't even a choice to be made."
"Thank you. That… was a really clever thing to do, actually." Robin sighed and gave him a soft smile, then took a moment to appreciate how the shadows of the flames danced across his skin before she spoke on. "So… no more pain for now?"
"Not as far as I can tell, at least."
"Let's find out for sure then, shall we?"
______________________________
Tags:
@ayamenimthiriel @chibi-lioness @t-sunnyside @alex4555 @purpledragonturtles @istrugglewithphilosophy @meghan-maria @hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall @darkestacademiaaa @nizem8 @girilimoni
General Tags:
@wegingerangelica @dreary-skies-stuff @wiczer @lotus-eyedindiangoddess @theweirdlunatic @caretheunicorn @kthemarsian @lady-of-lies @strawberrysandcream @noplacelikehome77 @theoneanna @mishaandthebrits @i-am-a-mes @nonsensicalobsessions @exygon @hiddles-lobotomy @rjohnson1280 @annwhojumps @spookycatqueen @salempoe @headoverhiddleston @fanfiction-and-stress @createdfromblue @thecreatiivecorner @themusingsofmany @kinghiddlestonanddixon @scorpionchild81 @crystal-28 @adefectivedetective @lokis-girl-in-mischief @booklover2929 @iamverity @lovesmesomehiddles @akk4rin @whitewolfandthefox @stuckupstucky @kassablanca13 @delightfulheartdream @hayalee8 @lemonmochitea
#snape#severus snape#severus snape x oc#snape x oc#pro snape#snapedom#severus snape imagine#snape imagine#snape x ofc#severus snape x ofc#snape fanfiction#severus snape fanfiction#snape fanfic#severus snape fanfic#severus snape fic#snape fic#professor snape#young snape#snape x robin#voluptas noctis aeternae#harry potter#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter fic#harry potter imagine#harry potter fanfic#hogwarts#professor x student#slytherin#hogwarts fanfiction#slytherin au
66 notes
·
View notes
Text
FIST FIGHTING WITH FIRE
chapter III
Pairing: Mason x f!Detective (Alice Santos)
Warnings: Book 3 demo SPOILERS!!! Cursing, some angst, mentions of sex, a guy being a creep™, I guess. Sorry if there are any mistakes!
Word count: ~1.8k
Summary: A week after that scene on Haley’s Bakery, Mason deals with the aftermath of his words... Or has he been dealing with it since the very moment he said them?
Read on ao3
chapter I ⭐ chapter II ⭐ chapter IV ⭐ chapter V
☾ 一一一一一一一一一 ☽
Outside the bar
"Can we just… not do this?" Alice spoke into the phone, her free hand running through her red hair and messing the waves she had carefully done that evening. A sigh from the other end of the line indicated her mother's reluctance to let it go.
"You seemed to be perfectly integrated with the Unit some days ago, and this week you made up a meeting with the Captain just to avoid coming to the warehouse."
Alice cringed, not her finest moment. "Look, I'm with them now, having a drink together. We're fine. Everything's fine."
"Does this have anything to do with what's been going on with Mason?"
Hearing his name made the detective snap. "Wait, is this you being a mother or being a boss?" She spat, venom on her every word. "Because you've barely gained the right to meddle in my life as either of those things."
The silence was deafening, and Alice's heartbeat kept getting faster and faster. "You weren't there when Bobby broke my heart, you don't have to be here now." Her voice cracked as she finished the sentence and she had to clear her throat.
"Is that what happened? Mason broke your heart?" Tears threatened to spill out of her green eyes at the genuine concern on Rebecca's voice.
"No, he didn't." She answered with a whisper, rebuilding her carefully placed walls.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, I am. I have to go, they are waiting for me."
"Alice, wait, tell me -"
She finished the call and stared at the phone's screen for a few seconds, taking calming breaths and trying to swallow the tears. The Unit would pick up on any change in her mood so she better calm down fast.
"Detective Santos. That looked intense."
She turned around quickly, finding the bearded man they were discussing inside before her mother called. Alice cleared her throat and offered a wobbling smile. "Kinda. Mr Rogers, wasn't it?"
"Please, call me Owen." He said, a wolfish smile on his lips as he offered his hand to her. Alice couldn't help but think of all the times the smirks Mason threw her way had seemed wolfish to her, and how different the chill she felt going down her spine was to the one she was feeling now.
Still, she was the detective of this town, so she shook his hand as professionally as she could. He took advantage of the situation to pull her slightly towards him, making her stumble on her heels and gaining a frown from her.
"I couldn't exactly walk up to you inside, surrounded by those guys. Popular, aren't you?"
Alice pulled her hand away and took a step backwards, creating some distance. "Those are my friends. And I would carefully think about what you say next if I were you, because so far you're doing a terrible job at flirting with me."
Owen blinked, slightly taken aback by her brashness, but recovering quickly and assuming she was challenging him. He didn't know he had picked the worst moment to annoy the detective, who usually was rather friendly and generous with her smiles. But the night had been a whirlwind of emotions and she was feeling irritated, miserable and ready to either go home and curl into the bed or get back inside and get shit faced drunk. Definitely not in the mood to deal with this man.
"I'm just saying you've probably let some of them get a taste." His grin widened, eyes travelling down her body. "Thought maybe I could be next. I'm sure I could teach you a couple of things… or maybe you could show me what you can do."
She opened her mouth to reply when a low growl interrupted her, making Owen turn around and allowing Alice to see Mason standing there, fists clenched and eyes narrowed, lips curled in a snarl. He looked dangerous, even more so than he usually did, and Alice tried to look at him from a stranger's eyes. Everything in his body and expression was screaming 'predator'. It would be the kind of situation where your body asks you to run even if you aren't sure about why you should be running. You just know you should. But she didn't feel fear, his anger was not directed towards her. She felt a thrill going through her body at his presence, forgetting her bruised heart for a moment.
"What the fuck did you just say to her?" The words were still growled as he stepped forward, and Owen took a step backwards, nearly colliding with the detective, who moved aside and around him. Mason reached out a hand to her, not moving his stormy gaze from the bearded man. Not even thinking, she slipped her hand into his and he gently moved her closer until she was tucked against his side. The detective had expected Mason to push her behind him, not keeping her by his side. She felt both of their bodies relaxing slightly at the touch, as if being close to each other was the only thing they needed in the world.
Owen looked at them with slight fear in his eyes. He could swear he had seen a glimpse of inhumanly big fangs when the long-haired man snarled. Mason's hand rested on her waist and her manicured one grabbed his shirt, his dark hair falling down his face and getting mixed with her red locks, tickling her cheek. He looked at him as if he was about to rip him apart, and the look on the detective's face let him know she would very much allow it… maybe even help him.
"Look," he croaked, "I didn't know she was with you. No harm done, okay?"
But his words didn't have the desired reaction. Another growl, and his snarl widened. It was taking all his self control not to pounce on this guy, but he knew he shouldn't. "So it was okay to be a creep to her when you didn't know? But suddenly a bad idea now you know she's my girl?"
Mason didn't miss the way her heart leaped inside her chest at his words and a pang of satisfaction almost made him shudder. If he hadn't been so fucking angry at the man standing before them he would have probably gotten goosebumps at the way she subtly pressed herself closer before speaking.
"You gotta learn how to treat women like human beings, you fucking dirtbag. If I see you creeping on anyone of this town I'll have you arrested for harassment."
The man nodded enthusiastically as he took another step backwards. Mason rolled his eyes with a huff.
"One of us is gonna kick your ass if you don't get lost. Now."
That was enough, and in a few seconds they were left alone in the street. Mason relished on her closeness, the scent of her honey scented shampoo tickling his nose, the warmth of her body expanding through their clothes and seeming to reach inside him. But she cleared her throat and he lost it all. She took a step away from him and the hand that had been resting on her waist fell limp to his side.
"Thank you. It would have been awkward if the detective of the town punched a newcomer in the dick." She chuckled awkwardly. "So, you know, thank you."
"You already said that."
She met his eyes and his forced grin let her know he was trying to mess with her to lighten the mood.
"Right. We should, uh, go back." She moved to walk past him, but his long fingers curled around her forearm and she spinned around to meet his face, now suddenly serious. He opened his mouth and closed it, his brow furrowed as if what he was about to say was too difficult to say it out loud. His fingers loosened their grip and Alice thought he was going to let her go. Of course he was going to let her go. He wouldn't face the way he hurt her because that would mean he accepted they had something worth saving. Her eyes dropped to his grip, wanting to watch, forcing to accept, he was never going to make her stay.
But his fingers tightened with new force, and her gaze snapped back to his face.
Grey eyes, tempestuous with emotion, stared at her, moving wildly through her features before he finally found the words.
"Don't go."
Her breath caught on her throat at the thought that he wasn't just talking about going inside.
He feels those things, alright. You gotta be patient while he figures them out.
Felix's words echoed inside her mind. The seconds that went by seemed to last an eternity, before she nodded slowly. Mason's shoulders dropped as he exhaled, as if a great weight had been lifted off them.
"Okay, Mason."
Meanwhile, inside the bar
"Maybe one of us should have gone outside to mediate." Nate sighed, staring inside his glass of scotch. "Those two aren't exactly good at sharing how they feel."
"Who knows." Felix shrugged, a grin widening in his face. "Maybe they're already back at Allie's apartment."
"Why would they…? Oh." Nate realised, eyes widening.
"They say the bigger the fight, the best the make up sex gets." Felix wiggled his eyebrows. "If that's true, they're in for a hell of a night."
Nate cringed, very much wishing Felix hadn't put that image of his friends inside his brain. "Ugh. I just hope Mason finds a way to fix whatever he's done without hurting her anymore."
"She knew what she was getting into by getting involved with someone like Mason." Adam said matter of factly. "He doesn't really try to hide his brashness."
Nate nodded, Mason was all sharp edges and bluntness, while the detective was much softer, gentle. It was easy for someone like her to get cut while trying to hold on to someone like him. Maybe it was a matter of how many cuts and wounds she could resist before letting go. But he liked to believe that wouldn't happen - instead, her softness would envelope his sharpness, showing him a side of himself he didn't even know it existed. A small smile bloomed on Nate's face as the thought.
"I think they both have to learn how to be around each other now that their relationship is changing."
Adam shrugged, but Felix let out a dreamy sigh. "You're such a romantic, Natey. Mason would learn so much from you if he didn't get nauseous every time he thinks about love."
Nate chuckled. "You know, maybe that's about to change."
☾ 一一一一一一一一一 ☽
A/N: Let me know if you want to be tagged in the future! Thank you for reading, feedback is appreciated 😍
TAGLIST: @agentnatesewell @gloynporslen @sunchipz @agentmasonjars @msjpuddleduck @utterlyinevitable @kat-tia801 @oxjenayxo
#here it iiiisss#they needed a push ok#me: now kiss#twc#the wayhaven chronicles#twc m#detective alice santos#twc mason#agent m#agent mason#mason x mc#mason x detective#mason x alice#twc detective
42 notes
·
View notes
Text
Sinner Man
Minors and ageless blogs DNI
Authors note: Might make this into a series idk but I liked how it turned out so I figured why not post it
Reblogs are appreciated as well as comments so if you liked it please say so!
Pairing: Eventual Eren Jaeger x Angel Female reader (enemies to lovers)
Warnings: Violence, car crash, cursing, religious themes (Annie is a demon, Eren is a demon and reader is an Angel) and I think that’s it, please lmk if I missed anything though!
Summary: Eren’s luck sucked. After terminating a contract he finds himself being hunted after both beings of Heaven and Hell. Just when he’s about to call it quits, an Angel saves him. Can he trust this new reluctant ally or is there something deeper hiding just beyond the surface?
Eren knew he shouldn’t have terminated that contract. Driving through the city he couldn’t help but check his rear view mirror more than necessary. He had to escape, he couldn’t be here any longer or else They would find him.
The lights from passing cars caused him to jump. He never jumped or didn’t anyway, but this was more than a screw up. This was detrimental. A rogue angel was something everybody heard about. The number of fallen ones was common, but a rogue demon? One who didn’t accept payment? That was unheard of.
Keeping his eyes transfixed on the road he patted around the passenger side of the car only to feel the red leather. He cursed under his breath. He could’ve sworn he brought it. Where was it? He leaned closer to the passenger side door only for his seat belt to stop him halfway. He cursed under his breath as he unbuckled it. Reaching over once more he kept one hand on the wheel. The light in front of him turned red. He glanced between the light and the seat. Shit.
He took his eyes off the road for half a second to focus on where he was reaching. He located the red phone case and grabbed it. Before he could even turn the screen on, a car crashed into him. It almost went in slow motion the way the car crashed and began to roll onto the empty street. When it finally stopped he was upside down. He cracked his eyes open slowly only to notice he was outside of the vehicle.
His eyes widened while his body exploded into waves of pain. He took a deep breath in, concentrating all his energy. He could feel the steam rolling off his shoulders as his legs twisted back to normal. He bit his lips to hold a scream in. How he hated human vessels, they were always too much work than they were worth.
He searched the area only to find a phone up ahead. Slowly, he began to inch towards it with his good arm. The other laid limpy at his side. The healing would take time, especially now that he was weakened.
He could hear heels clicking against the pavement behind him and rolled his eyes. Of course they’d bring Annie in. Today was really not his lucky day. He reached for the phone only for a heel to come crashing down on his hand.
He cursed, glaring up at the blonde. She only gave him a sadistic smile in return. “I’m starting to think you plan this.”
He growled lowly in his throat. Even her voice pissed him off. “Yeah? Well I sure as hell didn’t plan on getting hit by a car and going through a windshield.” He spat. The pain in his hand became a throbbing ache as she twisted her heel. He clenched his jaw. She’d kill him if they continued like this. He needed a plan, an escape route. The only things he could see were closed shops and the traffic lights. Dammit.
Almost like she knew he was planning an escape, her grin became wider while the crimson under her shoe began to pool down Eren’s hand.
“There’s no getting out of this one you traitor. You really think you have a place to go to? Heaven and Hell will both be after your ass.” Laughter began to bubble from her lips like frothing. It only built until it was ripped from her throat, echoing in the empty street. “You’ll always be running, there’s no escape. You’ll always be running.”
Black mist began to swirl around her while her wings stretched behind her back. Decorating the well lit road into a bath of darkness. Shit, if he didn’t find a way to escape now everything would be over.
Before Annie could demolish him there was a burst of light as well as a gust of wind. Annie was sent backwards. He heard her scream before the sound of glass shattering covered it. Steam rose from the newly freed wound causing him to shield his eyes.
When it all fell away a person was standing where the light used to be. She wore white while her expression was completely blank.
His eyes widened. “An Angel?”
What the hell was an angel doing here?
Instead of explaining anything, she only walked to Annie’s car and pressed a palm to the hood. Within a second it was fixed. Eren furrowed his eyebrows, since when could they do that? He could only stare on, dumbfounded like he was locked in place on the ground. She moved to the driver’s side and opened it before turning to the demon.
“Get in,” was all she said before slamming the door closed.
Eren weighed his options. On the one hand, stay with Annie and probably die, or on the other hand go with the angel who could be leading him to his death, or the final option; stay here and try his luck with outrunning her.
If it wasn’t clear before, it was certainly clear now; his luck sucked.
With a huff he got off of the ground and gazed at his wounded hand. Smoke was dancing in the air while only a small part had healed. Judging by that, he wouldn’t be fully healed for a few more hours. Shit.
The sound of a car honking snapped him out of his thoughts.
“You coming?!” She shouted, rolling the window down. He weighed his options once more before walking towards the car.
Fuck it, if he was going to die it might as well be on his terms. He closed the passenger side door after hopping in expecting her to head out, but instead she didn’t.
“What? Are you going or not?”
She glanced at the seatbelt back to Eren with a raised eyebrow.
“You really want to have another incident?”
Catching on, he rolled his eyes before slinging the seat belt over himself with a click. He turned back to her with green eyes filled with fury.
“You happy now?” He snapped, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Ecstatic,” she responded, but her tone showed anything but.
With that, she put the car in drive and drove off. With one final look towards Annie laying on the ground knocked out, only one thought crossed Eren’s mind. Friend or foe it didn’t matter; he was now an outlaw of both worlds. It wouldn’t matter where he’d go. This was his life now.
He’d spend an eternity running and eventually his time would run out.
taglist: @yixxes @chaos-night @oilivia
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
Cold
Written for @sesskag monthly prompts.
January's prompt: cold
Summary: Inspired by a tumblr post theorizing that Sesshomaru may be wearing makeup. I can’t find that post anymore or I would link it.
Can also be read on AO3 and FFN
The air in the cave was dry and warm despite the storm raging outside, but Kagome still felt stiff.
The sky had been dark and heavy all day, threatening at any moment to break open over their heads. A cool wind sliced through the hot summer humidity, whipping their hair into their faces and chilling their skin. They watched with wariness as the clouds churned above them, laced through with lightening and the distant rumbles of thunder.
They’d agreed to continue their journey as they were in a mountainous region with plenty of little caves to shelter in, but they were all on edge thanks to the charged atmosphere.
And then chaos struck.
A band of demons attacked for the shards and their group was quickly split up in the fighting. Kagome was shocked to find herself fighting alone with Sesshomaru when she’d previously been walking with Sango, but he’d long since proven himself a trustworthy ally so she did her best to offer support with her own powers and watched in awe as he took care of their opponents with quick, efficient ease.
And then the rain started.
Thick sheets of freezing rain dumped from the sky and soaked them through to the bone. Kagome panicked for just a moment when she couldn’t see through the downpour, but then a strong arm closed around her waist and she was airborne. She immediately relaxed upon recognizing the aura of her previous battle partner, and he quickly found them a suitable cave for hiding from the rain.
Her relief soon gave way to awkwardness.
She was completely alone... with Sesshomaru. They’d all joined forces some time ago in their seemingly endless search for Naraku, and in that time Sesshomaru had gone from enemy, to reluctant ally, to steady companion. They had what she considered, and hoped he did as well, a tentative friendship. They spoke here and there of things from her time, his life outside of the spider hunt, and even asked each other for advice and clarification on the children they’d adopted from each other’s respective species.
But Kagome was still nervous to be too casual with him, afraid of offending his aristocratic sensibilities by lowering anymore formality than she already had.
She was regretting that right about now as she stood and fidgeted with her hands while he gathered sticks from the dusty cave floor for a fire.
“If you have dry clothing to change into in that pack, you should change into them now. There is a small chamber in the back of the cave you can use for privacy.”
She said a quick prayer of thanks that he wasn’t looking at her to see they way she startled at the sound of his voice. She pressed a hand to her racing heart and looked around, spotting her overly stuffed bag against the cave wall. She snatched it up and scurried into the little stone alcove that was just deep enough to grant her the necessary privacy to change. Once dry and free of her wet clothes she felt much more comfortable, especially at the sight of the crackling fire in the center of the cave. It chased away the rest of the chill and lit the tiny shelter up with warm, golden light.
She sat down near the flames and relaxed further as warmth and comfort suffer her entire being, then she looked up at Sesshomaru sitting on the other side, intent on thanking him for helping her to shelter and building a fire when the words died in a garbled mess in her throat.
“What are you doing?!” She screeched, and he lifted one brow in question, but continued to remove the top half of his clothing.
“Would you rather I sat in my wet clothing?”
“I... I... uh-“ she clapped her hands over her flaming cheeks and looked pointedly away from his bare chest. She hadn’t even thought about the fact that he wouldn’t be as fortunate as she was to have so many extra clothes on hand. It would be really rude to ask him to sit there in wet clothing just because she was embarrassed.
‘Get it together Kagome, you’re an adult now, you can handle sharing a cave with a naked male.’
But when he started on removing his hakama she panicked again.
“WAIT!”
She rummaged through her bag and pulled out the fluffy robe she’d added in sometime in the last two years to wear after bathtimes during the colder months and handed it to him. He sniffed at it and then raised a brow at her in question.
“Its... kind of like a Yukata? People wear them after baths and things.”
He nodded and slipped the robe on, tying the belt around his waist before divesting himself of the rest of his clothes and Kagome breathed a little easier, though he did look a little funny in her fuzzy bathrobe.
He sat down in front of the fire and began ringing his soaking hair out. She felt a pang of guilt that she’d allowed her nerves to keep her from seeing that he was still absolutely dripping in rain water.
‘He killed those Youkai, grabbed my bag, got me to safety, AND built a fire. I’m not being a very good friend right now...’
“Here Sesshomaru-sama, I have a towel you can use. It’ll work better than just ringing it out.”
She met his gaze bravely despite her still pink cheeks as she offered him her towel and he nodded gratefully, pulling it over his head and rubbing it through his hair.
Kagome returned to her place on the other side of the fire and contemplated getting her books out to do some studying, but then Sesshomaru’s hand entered her field of vision holding out her now damp towel.
She took it and smiled up at him, but then his face made her gasp in alarm.
“Sesshomaru-sama! Your stripes!”
He blinked and his hand raised to his cheek.
“My stripes? What about my-“
“No not those, the ones on your eyes.. they’re gone!”
His brow furrowed in confusion for a moment and his head tilted just barely to the side.
“You speak nonsense miko. I do not have stripes on my eyes.”
Her jaw dropped and she gaped at him a moment.
“No eye stripes? How can you say that? They’re the same color as your cheek stripes! They go just across your eyelid!”
“Ah, those. Those are not stripes.”
“Then what are they? Where did they go?”
“They must have come off on the towel. They are much the same as what the slayer has on her eyes.”
Kagome stared blankly at him for several seconds, and then shook out her towel, examining both sides thoroughly until she found what she was looking for.
Two red splotches streaked across the white fabric in a way so familiar she couldn’t deny it no matter how incredible the whole incident seemed.
“Makeup?! Sesshomaru-Sama, you wear eyeliner? This whole time it’s been eyeliner?”
“I have never heard it called thus, but it is an apt enough description.”
“Huh.” She stared at him in disbelief for a moment before simply sinking back to the cave floor.
She eyed him and he looked very strange with nothing on his eyelids. She snorted at that thought.
‘He’s sitting across from me naked in a bathrobe and it’s his lack of eyeshadow that’s making this so weird. Go figure.’
“Do you.... need a mirror to put more on?”
“Thank you miko, but my supply is with Ah-Un.”
“I see. Does it... mean anything? The makeup, I mean.”
She had a hard time looking into his eyes as she spoke to him. It was like a classmate getting contact lenses after wearing glasses their whole life; it looked like him... but wrong.
He shrugged elegantly and spread his clothing a little closer to the fire to dry faster.
“It is not uncommon for those in my station to wear such facial adornments. My father inherited the practice from his father. My mother adopted it when they married. They both passed it on to me.”
“Oh... is it always the same color?”
“It does not have to be, but that’s the color my mother prefers. It is she who supplies it to me.”
“Oh interesting...” Kagome replied, once again eyeing her bag. Somewhere in there was a set of colorful eyeliner pencils she’d bought, intending to gift them to Sango. She’d known the red on her slayer friend's eyes was some sort of makeup, and she was going to ask if the new colors would be something sango would like, but the opportunity presenting itself to her now was too good to pass up.
‘And I can always buy more next time I go through the well.’
“Would Uh... would you be open to trying some new colors tonight then?”
“Come again, Miko?”
Instead of explaining, she dug through her bag until she found the pencils and held them up triumphantly, expecting that to be sufficient explanation. She was rewarded with a flat look of annoyance.
“Am I supposed to know what this is?”
She giggled and then moved around the fire to sit nearer to him, taking out one of the pencils and handing it over for his inspection.
“They’re eyeliner pencils. This is how people in my time would color our eyelids like you do. I have several colors in here if you want to try! I can even do it for you the first time!” She chirped happily, confident he would not take her up on that particular offer.
Her world fell out from under her when he handed the pencil back.
“Very well. I will allow it.”
“S-say What?!”
“I have never used such a device before miko, so I will allow you to demonstrate.”
“Uh.. Okay, that’s fair enough. Any particular color you’d prefer?”
She held out the package and he looked it over carefully before using his claws to gingerly pull one out and hand it to her.
“Green? That’s unexpected. But okay, I can do it. I’ll need you to stay seated and close your eyes, okay Sesshomaru-sama?”
“Hn.” He responded and tilted his face up, and Kagome had to take a deep breath to calm her once again racing heart.
She was struck by the realization that she’d never seen him this close before. She’d always found him beautiful in a very distant sort of way, but this close up he was positively stunning. His face was relaxed and trusting, and she felt touched that she’d made herself someone he could let his guard down around; his lashes were long and dark against his cheeks, and his chiseled jaw and nose were softened by skin that seemed too perfect and unmarred for such a battle hardened warrior.
Her hands fluttered around his face a moment before she found the nerve to force herself to touch him, resting one hand against his cheek to steady his face while she poised the other over his eyes. With as steady a hand as she could manage she pressed the tip of the pencil to his lid and pulled it across. A green line followed behind until she reached the end of his eye.
She switched sides and finished off the other eye, making sure they matched and that one line wasn’t longer or thicker than the other, and then she smiled in accomplishment that this whole thing hadn’t turned out to be a disaster.
“Alright Sesshomaru-Sama, I’m done.”
His eyes opened and her breath caught. The firelight reflected back at her, illuminating the otherworldly gold of them in a way that left her stunned. They looked just like a diamond she’d seen once during a trip to the mall as a child, it was large, clear and yellow, and it reflected a million pinpoints of rainbow light just the way his eyes were doing now. They shimmered and swirled and the only thought they left in her head was that she can’t believe she’d ever thought of these eyes as cold.
She cleared her throat and took a step back to give herself some space to breath, turning away to pull her mirror from her bag.
“H-here you go, you can use this to see. It’s very, very different from usual, but I have to say, the green look really nice with your eyes.”
Her cheeks warmed again but she met his gaze resolutely before he looked into the mirror at his reflection. He turned his head from side to side and examined her work then hummed under his breath in approval.
“This color is pleasing.”
“You can keep the pencil then. You can have all of them if you like.”
He took the package again and looked them over, drawing out another one.
“Your turn.” He said, gesturing for her to sit in front of him.
“Uh, pardon?”
“Sit Kagome, this Sesshomaru will return the favor.”
“Oh, you don’t have-“
“Sit.”
She did as told, swallowing down the explosion of butterflies that threatened to swarm up her throat and choke her.
She’d spent far too long isolated with the inhumanly beautiful Lord of the West, she desperately needed to rain to stop so she could get some fresh air.
He tilted her chin up gently and her eyes fluttered closed. She felt him press the pencil to her forehead, and in just a few moments he bid her open her eyes and look in her mirror.
She gasped again when she found that he’d drawn on her brow a purple moon that matched his own perfectly.
She looked back up at him in confusion, and found him staring back with a small but soft smile.
‘Oh my...’
She had a feeling that there was a meaning she was missing, but she decided she wouldn’t worry too much about that for now, this day had already been too much.
She looked back at the reflection of her new moon and grinned.
“Thank you Sesshomaru-sama.”
They relaxed into comfortable conversation, shared some travel rations from her bag, and then finally the storm broke just after Sesshomaru was able to redress.
Mere moments after the last drop fell from the sky, Inuyasha and the others came racing through the entrance, a million questions about what had happened and if they were safe. “What the hell happened to your face?!” Inuyasha shouted incredulously at his first look at his brother, but when Sesshomaru simply stared at him he huffed and rushed them all outside to hurry on their way.
She hugged her friends in greeting, shouldered her bag, and slipped the package of makeup pencils into Ah-Un’s saddle bag.
They were set to go, a few last rays of sun to spend finding a camping spot, and Kagome was ready to set off with an extra spring in her step.
#skmpjan21#sesskag monthly prompt#SessKag#sesskagfanfic#sesskag oneshot#sesshoumaru#sesshomaru x kagome#Kagome
32 notes
·
View notes
Text
Botched Rescue (BnHA vore) 2/5
A/N: So this is also a thing. Warning for unwilling prey, fearplay, all that jazz.
__________________________________
Never in his 16 years would Izuku imagine the number two hero enter through those doors. I-is he here to save us? Or what if… could it be Toga wearing Hawks’ face? His terror spiked, just imagining the blood-lusting girl sent shivers down his spine. Looking up, he noticed that the winged hero’s face was strangely passive, chatting with a long-nosed villain as if nothing was out of the ordinary. As Hawks stepped closer to the jar, following long-nose’s lead, his golden eyes widened ever so slightly once catching a glimpse of the U.A. students.
“H-Hawks!” Izuku cried out, pounding on the glass to get the hero’s attention. Hawks stared back at him, blinking blankly. He raised a feathery brow and turned to long-nose, “What’re Endeavor’s interns doing here…?” he trailed off, sharp eyes honing in on the students, “And why are they so small?” Long-nose’s perpetual grin never left his face, “Why Hawks, they are for you. We thought this size would make them easier.” Izuku slowly quieted down while Todoroki stiffened, Easier for what? Izuku thought while the hero before them voiced the same concern. “For consumption,” Long-nose answered simply as if there was no need to provide a further explanation. The blood drained from both students’ faces. Izuku faltered backward, his brain going on overdrive. Consumed by what? By who? But the answer was glaringly obvious. Long-nose had brought Hawks in the hideout to perform their death. Judging by the winged man’s affability towards the villain, he wasn’t there to break them out. Izuku’s heart plummeted; getting eaten would be tantamount to death. It couldn’t be their fate, this man had to be lying. Todoroki punched the glass, a scorching storm of raw emotion taking over his form. “Enough with your tricks, let us out!” he demanded. Still, his words fell upon deaf ears as the hero’s achingly indifferent eyes lingered over them before returning to face the villain—as if they were some kind of insignificant buzzing. — Hawks balked, did he hear that right? No, keep your cool. Just remember your mission, I can’t afford to sabotage this. “Heh, you want me to eat them? Never thought the PLF would be into cannibalism,” he answered nonchalantly, putting his arms behind his head. Re-Destro shrugged, “I know, it is a rather unconventional method to dispose of hostages, but think of the advantages. No evidence of the corpses and imagine the humiliation the heroes would experience if they found out one of their own did the deed," he raised his hands in the air, words flying out of his mouth in eager anticipation. “It is too great of an opportunity to pass up!” The blond hero stepped back, his thoughts twisted while his gut knotted up. This shouldn’t be possible, he shouldn’t be able to do this, he can’t. “I get why you’d want me to do it, but wouldn’t it be more impactful if a big shot villain did it? What difference would it really make if I,” he took a deep breath and swallowed, regretting his next choice of words, “ate them?” The formerly stressed boss narrowed his eyes, stepping closer to the shorter man, “I thought you would be grateful, after all, this would provide an opportunity to continue to prove your allegiance to us. My successor still has his doubts.” Hawks’ eyes darted back at the students, the finger smashing kid was yelling something incomprehensible to him. No doubt thinking he was going to murder them, his guilt swelled. You’re killing me here. How do I save them without any casualties, without revealing myself? “But you get my hesitation, right? This is just a lot… more than just fighting for the liberation of quirks. I’d discreetly kill them for our cause, but actually consuming those kids is another story. It’s a huge taboo, cannibalism, y’know?” “I understand, but it’s a question of whether you will or will not do what is asked of you. We value your contributions, but we need allies who are loyal.” Shit. “Nope! Not a problem at all. I was just making sure I heard you right," he pressed a thumb to his forehead in an 'L' shape, eyes dead serious. "Everything I do is for the Liberation.” Re-Destro smiled wider, shaking the hero’s hand,
“Good good, that’s what I like to hear!” There was a pregnant pause, and Hawks stepped closer to the jar, taking off his visor and resting his chin in his arms, now eye level with the aspiring heroes; he winced inwardly as the two jumped back. He really didn’t want to do this. Would it be too late to back out now? If they kill me, would the kids still get to live? If he was being honest with himself, probably not. “What’s wrong? You look nervous.” It was a test. Re-Destro’s eyes were closed in slits, but his tight-lipped smile was telling. If he didn’t do as he was told, Hawks would be branded as a traitor and most likely subjected to the Liberation Front’s torture. Everything he worked towards would be for nothing. He cringed, and no doubt would Dabi burn him to crisp. “Ok, ok.” he grabbed the jar and tried to avoid looking at the terrified gazes of the students. Hawks plucked a thrashing Todoroki Shouto from the jar and popped him in his mouth without a second thought. “You…YOU TRAITOR!” Shouto shouted before the mouth snapped shut, pushing past his guilt, Hawks internally gagged at the boy’s flavor. Todoroki’s body was salty and quivering with hateful tears. The kid was fired up, though and he winced as a fist made contact with his molar. Shit, I'm actually going to have to swallow him. I’m going to hell. This is so sick, even for me. He repressed the urge to vomit and tilted his head back, distinctly feeling the squirming figure traveling down his throat. Hawks brought a hand to his mouth, the tiny student was going down so slowly, so painfully, it was only a gross reminder of his deed. Urk, I’m gonna throw up, his wings shifted uncomfortably and he shot a glance at Re-Destro, who was staring expectingly. Can’t look reluctant. They’re gonna suspect me. Just ignore the fact you’re eating Endeavor’s son—- ugh. Hawks tossed the former leader of the Liberation Army a wry smile, internally recoiling at the fact that Shouto hadn’t even passed his esophagus. “Can I have some water? Jeez, he’s so dry,” he complained as he rubbed his throat. The villain called up an underling and quickly, he was given a bottle of water, “Thanks!” the winged hero gasped out as he greedily gulped down the water. The younger Todoroki had finally gotten unstuck from his gullet, and he could feel him descend to his stomach. Sorry Shouto, I need to do this as quickly as possible. Please don’t drown. —— Izuku watched in abject horror as he watched the bulge of his friend slide down the former hero’s neck, quickly disappearing past his collar bone. “T-T-T-Todoroki?” Izuku stuttered out, overcome with pure shock as he watched the death of his friend. Out of the many possible deaths Izuku thought he would encounter, being shrunk and eaten by a top hero didn’t quite make the list. As he watched a gigantic hand make its way back to the jar, Izuku held a shred of hope in his heart. He didn’t just watch Hawks, the number 2 hero, just knock back Todoroki like a mere snack. No, it was too outlandish to be real, he must still be unconscious, and these were nightmarish projections of his subconscious. It explained their predicament and why Hawks was even chummy with a villain in the first place. Despite himself, he mustered up his fear and looked up at the shadow looming over them: massive passive golds reaching tear-welled greens. While the winged man peered down at them, Izuku’s large eyes gazed up with desperate hope, but the former’s face was completely devoid of emotion: Izuku felt his insides liquefy. No. They were about to die in one of the most gruesome ways possible in the hands of a trusted hero. He collapsed on his knees. Despite the instability of the jar, the sense of hopelessness overwhelmed him. This was real. He was actually going to die. As the gloved hand neared the jar, Izuku found himself running in front of the unconscious blond. Keeping a protective stance, right when the hand was about to snatch Bakugou, Izuku leapt in front of it. The hand jolted, causing the man to drop Bakugou and grab Izuku instead. Time stood still as Izuku was lifted to the awaiting maw. As he drew nearer, he could see every pore of the man’s face, every hair of his stubble, and more importantly, large and daunting his mouth was from this perspective. Izuku was a shaking, dizzying mess as he was nearly thrown into the mouth, barely able to get himself reoriented before he was slammed to the ridged palette. Sandwiched between his tongue and palette, Izuku’s only light source was cut off, and all he knew was the damp humidity coupled by Hawks’ easy breaths. He waited in blind terror for what felt like a good minute and finally let out a sigh of relief, “Oh good, he’s not going to—” A resounding swallow echoed, and with a flick of the tongue, Izuku was dragged down.
#bnha vore#mha vore#hawks vore#nonfatal vore#safe vore#or is it???#my hero academia vore#vore fanfic#vore writing
85 notes
·
View notes
Text
Small Talk - Daryl Dixon
EPPP!! This is my FIRST EVER request. I am so excited.😁😁 So I wanted to request "You Are In Love" by Taylor Swift with Daryl Dixon, pretty please? 😊😍 P.s- Am I the only one who thinks this song is very underrated? - @ohmagawd-life
\\\
And for once, you let go, of your fears and your ghosts - You Are In Love, Taylor Swift
“Don’t think I got one,” Daryl mused, digging an arrow further into the mud. Why you insisted on aggravating him with stupid questions was beyond his comprehension but he’d be lying if he said it really bothered him.
You’d volunteered to take watch with him tonight while everyone else got some sleep. Winter was setting in and so were Lori’s terrible mood swings, agitated at everything so spectacularly that no one really wanted to be around her right now. To make it all worse the only shelter viable for the night was a rundown looking trailer in the woods. Daryl had jumped on night watch, if only to get out of the suffocating small trailer that you were all stuffed into. He took up a spot in the front of the trailer, sitting on the small porch and digging an arrow through the mud. It was quiet, and had been for the last four days but Lori was hellbent on moving instead of trying to rest and soon you knew you would run out of places to stay.
“Mind if I join you?” You asked, closing the door and latching the screen before making your way over to Daryl. The sun was already set and the night was well under way. Rick was going to go on watch and you knew he was eager to get away from Lori, you could see it on his face, but you were eager to spend some time with Daryl away from curious eyes.
He shook his head, a silent ‘I never do’ though he played the part of annoyed pretty well. Tonight he looked indifferent but he watched from the corner of his eye as you lowered yourself to sit next to him. It was starting to get cold and you had found a hoodie inside to wrap yourself in. Daryl reached over with one hand and pulled the hood up over your head, pushing your hair into your face.
“Stop,” you laughed, nudging him with your elbow and pushing both hood and hair out of your face. “I bet you were that annoying kid who pestered people all the time when you were little.”
“Don’t know what yer on about.” He replied, grinning as you jumped off the porch, wiping your hands over your sides. When you looked back at him he was holding the arrow he’d been digging with, waving it to indicate that he’d prodded you with it.
“Seriously,” You huffed, climbing back up and putting some distance between the two of you.
Reaching over, Daryl grabbed the hem of your shirt and pulled on it, indicating that he wanted you back beside him. You shuffled over, thigh brushing against his. The hand that was holding your shirt let go, smoothing along your back before pulling away to settle on dragging his arrow through the dirt again. You turned your upper body more toward him to rest your head on his shoulder and tucked your cold hands into the pocket on your hoodie. Daryl’s skin was cool beneath your cheek. While Daryl could just sit and watch and wait you were never able to keep yourself occupied, constantly shifting around. Even now you pulled your leg up, rest your knee against his lap and tucking your foot under your other thigh. Daryl knew you well enough to know in ten more minutes you’d be fidgeting again but he said nothing about it and just put a hand on your knee instead.
“You think it’ll be cold in the morning?”
“How should I know?”
“You can track and stuff,” you shrugged, “figured you could like, read the weather and shit too.”
“Yer a pain in my ass ya know that?” He asked, tilting his head slightly and kissing the top of your hair.
“Hey,” you shifted slightly so you could look at him, “that’s a compliment, you should be flattered I think so highly of you.”
He only rolled his eyes. “Why’d ya wanna know?”
“Cause I saw a river not too far from here and I wanted to wash up.” You shrugged, “my hair is getting greasy and you could use a wash too.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re a little gross.” You reply, wrinkling your nose for effect.
Daryl shrugged, “then don’t sleep in my sleeping bag with me.” He said it matter of factly, like the sleeping bag was just an agreement between the two of you and not anything more but he would be terrified if you suddenly stopped sleeping next to him. He could go down a rabbit hole of possibilities when his insecurity really got the best of him and even pretending to be indifferent didn’t help. Was it bothering you? Were you going to sleep somewhere else? Would you stop going on watch with him?
You leaned over and kissed his cheek, “you’re lucky I like you so much,” you teased, “and that my feet get cold when I sleep alone.”
“I got a pair of wool socks from the last house in my bag, if ya want ‘em.” He’d grabbed them from the master bedroom as Rick was calling everyone to head out. They looked hand sewn and he knew with the weather getting worse, your hands and feet would get cold faster.
“You’re too good to me.” You insisted and it was too dark to see the faint blush that lit up Daryl’s face but you did feel the light squeeze he gave your knee in response. You snuck a quick kiss to his bare arm before turning away, “I don’t know how you’re out here without a jacket.”
“It’s over there.” He nodded his head toward the door behind you and you turned to find his jacket laying across the porch bench.
“It’s cold Daryl.” You lifted his arm, wrapping it around your shoulders and hugging his waist.
“Keeps ya awake, we’re supposed ta be watching fer geeks.” He replied, turning his head just enough to kiss your forehead.
“Oh, that reminds me!” You pulled away, his hand dragging across your shoulders and back as you stood up, almost as if he was reluctant to let you go. And truthfully, he was.
Daryl tried to act as indifferent as he could, knowing that the reality of this world didn’t guarantee anyone any sort of confirmed happiness. In the short time that he’d known you he’d lost his brother, Rick had almost lost Carl, Carol had lost Sophia, Andrea had lost Amy, and they had all lost Dale and Andrea. He was familiar with loss and he knew it was just a symptom of this world, so he was reluctant to let himself feel anything. But when he was with you it was impossible to keep up the charade of indifference. When he’d heard you pipe up to volunteer for night-watch with him, he’d been unable to stop himself from smiling.
He couldn’t exactly remember when things between the two of you had started. Or when you’d gone from being just some girl at the camp and become more important to him than that. He thought it had something to do with the overwhelming amount of affection you seemed to have on hand. Daryl hated to admit it but he looked forward to the simple touches, a brush of your hand against his arm, a kiss to his cheek, the way you held his hand in your sleep when the two of you had started sharing a tent at Hershel’s farm.
“Look,” you stood behind him, leaning over and dangling the carafe of coffee in front of him. “Coffee.”
“How long’s it been in there?” He asked, grinning as he took the container from you.
“I made it. Glenn made that fire earlier and I boiled some water for coffee. Keep us up.” You informed him.
In another instant you were sitting down beside him again and he realized that not only had you gotten the coffee but you were now wearing his jacket over the stolen hoodie. You left another kiss to his cheek and huddled close again. Maybe more optimistic than Daryl you were not at all indifferent to him. Everyone knew that he was your favorite person long before he realized it. Glenn had teased you mercilessly over your crush when it was just that, silent yearning that he would maybe get the hint that you were interested in him. You weren’t entirely sure how you’d gotten here either, sharing sleeping bags and staying up late, you talked about silly things and he listened intently. It was a far cry from being too nervous to speak to him.
You watched him swallow a gulp of coffee, biting your lip to stop a laugh when he grimaced, “sorry, I like it strong.”
“I’ll be up for another month now.” He commented, handing the container back to you.
Once you had the coffee securely between your thighs Daryl wrapped his arm around you again, the chill of his skin raising goosebumps when you held his hand. “You should take your jacket, I don’t want you to be cold.”
“I ain’t cold.”
“Yeah but you wouldn’t tell me if you were cold, you’d just sit there and freeze like the caveman from Scooby-Doo.” You replied. When he looked your way, incredulous and slightly bemused, you kissed him. “You have seen at least one episode of Scooby-Doo right?”
Daryl shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“I used to watch it all the time with my best friend Ally. It was about a talking dog who used to solve like, crimes. Like people thought there were ghosts but it was just the banker or the lawyer or somebody scaring people off.” You replied, turning in closer to him. Daryl could tell you were starting to get sleepy, even with the coffee. You always started talking about nonsense when you were tired. “Who was your best friend?”
“Don’t think I got one.” He shrugged, digging his arrow into the mud with his free hand.
“Everyone has a best friend.” You mused, “you’re mine.”
“Thought that was Ally.” He teased, lifting your hood over your head again.
“When I was eight!”
Inside the trailer you could hear movement. Daryl shifted slightly, his arm dropping from your shoulders as the door opened. He still wasn’t entirely comfortable with whatever this was going on between the two of you. It felt stupid to call it a relationship, people couldn’t even properly have those with the world being the way that it was now. And you certainly weren’t the giddy, sneaking off to the barn, types like Maggie and Glenn. Still, when everyone else was around Daryl still got shy about his affection, keeping a little distance between the two of you despite everyone knowing that it was more than friendship or situational tolerance that had you sharing the same sleeping mats or staying up on watch together or going out to hunt. Though you contributed little to hunting other than moral support.
Before the screen door could open you stole one last kiss from Daryl. He grinned but then the door opened and he was turning to see who had come outside.
You looked behind you to see Rick, T-Dog after him. “Hey, you two wanna get some sleep?” He asked. It wasn’t near morning yet, maybe a few hours until the sun officially came up but you imagined Rick was restless and would rather this than be inside.
“Sounds good.” You nodded, handing your coffee over to Daryl and standing up. You went to the door first, holding it open as Daryl got up and walked passed you into the tiny trailer. Before you’d gone out on watch you’d spread the sleeping bag and two blankets out in the corner of the room, beneath the front window and close to the door. You weren’t a fan of being so close to the outside but you knew Daryl would want to be by the door in case anyone needed anything or any walkers made their way towards camp. “Home sweet home,” you whispered, glancing back at him with a smile.
Another roll of the eyes before the door shut and you couldn’t see anymore. While Daryl kicked off his shoes and laid down you took your time getting ready. At the farm he’d teased you mercilessly the first time you stayed in his tent because you insisted on taking off your jeans and your bra to sleep. Even now as you pulled your bra out from under your hoodie and folded it on top of your jeans you heard him criticizing you.
“Yer gonna get bit one day, insisting on not sleeping ready.” He commented as you got between him and the wall.
“That’s why you sleep on the outside.” You whispered back, kissing his cheek. You pulled the blankets up to your chin and shifted so you were partially facing the wall, head on his arm.
“Trying ta get rid a me.” He muttered, pulling your body close to his.
“Never.” You snuggled further into the cocoon of Daryl and blankets. Once morning came he’d be up and, most likely, hunting, while you were still trying to get one last minute of sleep in. How he managed to wake up early every morning without an alarm was beyond you but you thought maybe it was just because he was such a light sleeper.
You closed your eyes, tucking your head further into the blanket when your nose got cold and listening to the quiet sound of Glenn snoring from across the room, trying to lull yourself to sleep. Daryl had shifted you into a spooning position already and you pulled the arm that was around your waist up so you could hold his hand and place a kiss there to his skin. Colder than he’d told you he was.
“I knew you were cold.”
For a moment there was no answer and you thought maybe for once in the short time that you’d gotten to know Daryl he had fallen asleep before you but then he pressed a kiss to the back of your neck.
“Thought about what you said,” he whispered, voice barely there in the darkness. Typically, changing the subject.
“About what?” You hadn’t stopped talking from the moment you got outside.
“You’re my best friend too.”
You turned your face into the arm under your head, smile so wide he could feel it against his skin and he smiled himself from the knowledge that he’d said something to make you happy. Indifference out the window and without the burden of having to know exactly what it was the two of you were to each other he was confident in the knowledge that you were his favorite person and that was plenty for both of you.
-
A/N: So I hope you like this, I just really wanted it to be like, one insignificant but defining moment in a relationship instead of just a chronology of how they got to a certain point. Like I just wanted to reflect that feeling of soft unconditional love that I get every time I listen to the song. So yeah, hope you like it.
taglist: @thinkingsofamadwoman @mixedwiththemoon @titty-teetee @queenmissfit @marvelismylifffe @iluvmesomemarvelndc @absentmindeduniverse @his-paradox @medievalfangirl @gigilame @sabertooth-potato @enrapturedbythemoon @cbarter @onemorebeautifulnightmare @born-in-19-96 @mainokutan @uh-i-think-its-frank @nikki082489 @qrangr
#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl dixon imagine#daryl dixon x reader#the walking dead fanfiction#the walking dead imagine#the walking dead fanfic#twd fanfiction#twd imagine#twd fanfic#collecting stories imagine#cs discography series
814 notes
·
View notes
Text
CS ff: “Walking the Tightrope” (Chapter 5/10) (au)
Summary: Killian’s daily routines are a matter of habit. When he wakes up late one morning, his routines all change for the better. Emma doesn’t care about routines, but she does care about Killian, no matter how reluctant she is to admit it to herself.
Rating: E (much later in the story)
Content Warnings: Maybe some strong language.
A Special Thank You: My continued gratitude to my lovely friends, @captainstudmuffin and @phiralovesloki. And a heap of love to @captainswanbigbang for putting this together and helping me accomplish this.
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 |
Find it on Ao3 & FFN!
-x-
Chapter 5: Of Pirates and Settling In
October 31: Thursday
The night before Halloween, Killian is thankful for his prompt attention in setting out his Halloween costume a week ago since he doesn’t get home until after dinner time. Not that he’s going to complain, of course, since he had a damn good reason to be home at that hour after snogging Emma Swan in the middle of the street for way longer than either of them anticipated.
He wonders if they’d still be there if Granny hadn’t interrupted them.
Just thinking about it again sets his heart racing. After Emma asked him to be patient, Killian genuinely didn’t know if they would ever develop past friendly acquaintances. But after tonight, the way her hands had framed his face as she leaned up to kiss him before going inside, he’s pretty sure they’re well beyond that. He figured he would be lucky to find himself amongst the ranks of her friends and allies, but now there’s a genuine chance that this could turn into something more.
Kissing her is an experience he can’t compare. Not only does she affect the way his heart beats but he would let her steal the air right from his lungs if that’s what she wanted. It’s probably dangerous to be this enamored with her already.
Shaking his head, Killian pushes through his nightly routines, enjoying the ghost sensation of Emma’s lips on his.
At the end of the night, he doesn’t even notice that he didn’t follow his steps precisely or in the correct order, only that he completed what he had to before he climbs into bed anticipating the next day.
On Halloween, he wakes up early enough to fully prepare. He’d been told shortly after arriving that Halloween in this small town was a much-celebrated affair, and it just so happens that it is one of his favorite holidays to really get into. So he takes his time sliding on each part of the costume he’s had for years.
Just about the only good thing that’s come out of losing his hand is the ability to authentically pull off a Captain Hook costume. He’s so adept at putting on the layers that he still has plenty of time to grab his coffee and secure his bag as he strolls out the door.
It’s cold out, cold enough that he wishes again for a hat and a glove, and certainly not to have half of his chest exposed with the way the shirt buttons up. He hastens to his meeting spot with Emma, already looking forward to her reaction and to see what she’s wearing as her own costume. When he’d asked her about it last night, she’d smiled unassumingly and told him he’d have to wait and see.
He’s more than a little surprised when he gets closer to the corner to find it already occupied. He knows it’s Emma, of course, but he’s so used to her hair being down and free-flowing that it takes him a couple seconds to absorb the fact that it’s carefully pulled back in a bun and pinned away from her face.
She turns when he gets closer, and his steps stumble just the slightest bit which causes her to smirk. She’s wearing glasses, which he’s never seen before, and his eyes just glance across the rest of her to take in the details. Her black leather jacket is on again, but instead of the usual jeans, she’s wearing a pair of dark grey dress trousers. On top, she’s wearing a button-up shirt and tie that look so close to something he owns that he wonders for a second if she snuck in and raided his closet. It’s all topped off with a waistcoat that matches the bottoms, but dips low and fastens beneath her bust.
Her eyes must focus on him because her jaw is dropping and her eyes pop open wide beneath her spectacles, and they more than likely have matching looks on their faces.
“Wow,” she says slowly, looking him up and down a few times. “You were not joking when you said you go all out.”
He spreads his arms wide so she can see the whole thing uninterrupted, spinning once when he finally gets all the way to the corner. She inches closer, tucking a book he didn’t notice before under her arm so she can reach out and grab the much older fashioned hook he uses with the costume. It’s a bit of a pain in the sense that he doesn’t have the functionality of his usual hook, but this fits the costume better and he loves the authentic feel of it.
She lifts the apparatus to inspect it, running her fingers along the smooth metal.
“Captain Hook? Really? Where’s the perm? The waxed moustache?”
“Left them back in England,” he tells her, shifting forward to move closer to her.
“I like the eyeliner,” she confesses, her other hand sliding along the lapel of the greatcoat that he had specially made for this costume.
“Our light is about to change,” he murmurs as she steps even closer still. He’s certainly not going to complain about these developments, even if it’s throwing their whole morning off by a few minutes.
“Yeah, I know.” Despite those words, she still leans up and kisses him, lingering over the one simple press of her lips until just before the safety bell starts dinging to let them know the protected cross will end soon.
She moves fluidly, then, using her grip on his hook to guide him across the street. When they get to Granny’s they pause again.
“I’ll be working late tonight,” she tells him. “Text me to keep me entertained?”
“Hordes of rival pirates couldn’t stop me, love.” He bends to kiss her cheek softly, enjoying the noise she makes in approval before he steps away again. “Have a good day, Swan.”
“Thanks. You too, Captain!”
She’s already moving up the pathway before he remembers to ask, confused at the bookish look she’s wearing. “By the way, who are you supposed to be?” he asks from the entrance to the patio.
Just as she reaches the door, she turns and pulls the book from beneath her arm, flipping it open and adjusting her glasses on her face. “Isn’t it obvious? I’m you,” she responds, fixing him with a look he knows he gives her when he’s flirting. His heart beats double-time even as he laughs. If he’s not careful, he’ll fall in love with her before they even manage to go on a date.
Thankfully, she takes the opportunity while he’s laughing to lift the book in farewell, entering the diner and leaving him still chuckling as he moves along towards his office.
The whole company has dressed for the spirit of the day; Robin is dressed in full Robin Hood regalia and Will as his second-hand man. They’ve been friends for so long and the joke’s been made so many times that they just go with it now. Even Anna is playing along and wearing a traditional Norwegian dress that he knows for a fact was passed down from her ancestors because she’s told him three times now.
For the most part, however, no one seems to be doing their work. If this was a Friday, he’s willing to bet that most people would be out of the office at noon. Instead, since they’re mingling and not attempting to be productive, he’s the only one in his office trying to get something done. He gives up before lunch time, packing up Henry’s book and all his notes and heading to Granny’s, but even there the festivities seem to be lingering and he can’t seem to concentrate on anything he’s reading.
Instead, after he’s finished his early lunch, he collects the darts from the board and starts throwing, thinking back to that night out with Emma. As if thinking her name summons her, the door to the diner opens and shuts and he turns to see her scanning the restaurant before heading straight for him.
“Everything all right, Swan? Or have you come to get your second caffeine fix?”
“Something like that,” she says, taking a moment to continue. He lines up his next throw but it ends up going far off course with what she says next. “Actually, I’m here to ask you out. To dinner, or something.” The clack of the dart hitting the wall goes unnoticed as he turns slowly to look at her.
“Shouldn’t I be the one to ask you out?”
“Should’ve known you’d try to be old-fashioned about it. But we’d both be three hundred before you managed to do it. You had the perfect opening last night!”
The whole diner seems to have paused in their activities to watch the progression of their conversation. It’s not like he can blame them, since it’s definitely not anything he was expecting to be dealt today, and they all get front-row seats to the show. Even Granny is staring at them, only turning and going back about her business with a knowing smile on her face when she notices him look at her.
“I was trying to follow your lead,” he says incredulously, throwing his hand and hook into the air. When Emma continues to just stare at him, he drops his arms and moves closer. “I’ll happily accept on one condition: you let me plan the evening.”
“I know how to plan a date!”
“You know how to chase traffic violators and blow into my workspaces like a whirlwind. I know how to plan an evening out.”
Her expression says she knows he’s not wrong, and she bobs her head in acquiesce.
“Well, I don’t pillage and plunder on the first date, just so you know.”
He chuckles at that, moving closer as his scoundrel side peeks out again. He regards her from beneath hooded eyes for a second. “That’s because you haven’t been out with me yet,” he says plainly, breaking the moment only a bit with a smug smile when he sees the look in her eyes.
“Saturday,” she says after she snorts and schools her facial expressions again. “Save it for Saturday.”
“I’ll try my solid best, love.”
She rolls her eyes, but she’s laughing under her breath as she does. She turns, looking like she’s about to head to the counter but instead she moves back and kisses him solidly again.
“See you tomorrow morning,” she tells him as she backs away.
He watches as she approaches the counter, to Granny and the softly amused look on her face. “On the house, Emma,” she tells her as she hands over a bag of food that he doesn’t think Emma even had the chance to order yet.
She says her thanks and moves back towards the exit, turning once when she gets to the door. He’s still watching her, fiddling with one of the darts and a star-struck look on his face. He lifts his hook in a parting gesture, pleased to see her returning grin come out full force.
The second she’s out the door, everyone goes back to exactly what they were doing. Normal conversations resume, and the sounds of cutlery hitting plates echoes around the small place once more. Even the kitchen seems to make noise again, with the cooks calling out orders and the life returning to the whole restaurant. If Killian was a betting man, he’d guess that the whole town will know of their impending date by the end of the hour.
He keeps his word and texts her later in the day, even sending her pictures of the other employees that dressed up. In return, she sends the picture she gets later of Granny and Ruby dressed up as they get ready for trick-or-treating. Granny’s usual outfit is just topped with wolfy ears and a tail, and a frilly white apron with Ruby dressed as Little Red Riding Hood.
In the early evening as he’s just trying to pack up and head home, Will appears in his door.
“Did you know your girlfriend dressed up as you for Halloween?”
He almost corrects Will that Emma isn’t his girlfriend, but now that might very well be a lie. They do have a date planned and she has kissed him multiple times now, so while the words are on the tip of his tongue, he just gives a long-suffering sigh as he continues to tidy his office, diligently shutting down his computer as he responds.
“I’m aware, yes.”
“She steal the clothes out of your closet for that?”
“Amazingly, no. She hasn’t even been to my flat yet.”
Will makes a noise at that, but he looks impressed. The fact that he doesn’t push or tease any further speaks volumes as to how fast the news has already traveled. “You comin’ out for a drink tonight?”
“Aye,” Killian responds, tucking the last of his notes into his bag and looping it over his shoulder. “Might as well. But only the one!” They do have to be at work tomorrow, and he doesn’t plan on looking exhausted out of his mind when he shows up to his meeting in the afternoon.
He’s glad he agreed after he walks into the bar. Despite it being a Thursday, the place is packed. Among the throngs, he’s still easily able to pick out Emma, leaning across the bar so Jefferson can hear what she’s saying. The other man, doing way too good of a job dressed as the Mad Hatter, nods and hands her a bottle of water before she turns and starts heading back towards where he’s still standing.
As soon as she spots him, she grins and yanks him in the direction of the door.
Outside, with the noise dampened by the structure of the building, he can hear her when she greets him.
“Hello, love. Off shift yet?”
“No, but almost. I just had to warn Jefferson that a group of teenagers was overheard bragging at the diner about how real their fake IDs looked. Hey, you’re Captain Hook right now. Think you can keep an eye out for some Lost Boys and scare them off if you see them?”
“Careful, Swan. I may just try to recruit them to join my merry band of pirates so we can finally defeat that blasted Peter Pan.” He makes sure to go into the full character, letting his voice dip low in a growl and shaking his hook with vengeance.
Emma tilts her head back, chuckling at his theatrics before dropping it back down to level him with a stare. “Also, Prince Charming and his Snow White are in that bar somewhere so if you get out of line, at least one of them is coming for you.”
“I can’t wait to see the costumes,” he admits, even as Emma takes his hook in her hand again and he forgets what exactly he was excited to see when he heads back inside.
“Don’t get into too much trouble?”
“I’ll be the very picture of innocence.” He takes her hand gently in his, bending low and kissing the back of it, smirking up at her when he catches the look in her eyes. “Unless you want me to be otherwise, of course.”
She hums, using her grip on his hand to pull him closer so she can place a kiss on his cheek. “Be good. I’ll be back in a bit.”
“Looking forward to it,” he says, waving as she starts heading back towards the station.
By the time she returns, she looks a little frazzled and tired but relieved to see him still amongst the crowd inside. He’s spent the majority of the evening clustered at a hightop table with David and Snow, with Will and Belle popping by for bits of time. Emma happily accepts the seat Killian vacates for her, shrugging out of her jacket and throwing it over his greatcoat on the back of the chair.
“Something to quench your thirst, Swan?”
“I’m tempted to ask for a whole bottle of rum but I’ll take a weak vodka cranberry, instead.”
He returns with the drink after a few minutes, careful of how close he stands. He doesn’t know what she’s told her brother about their progress into a relationship and he’s determined to let her do this all in her own time.
It’s difficult, however, when she goes about rolling up her sleeves, loosening the tie around her neck and popping open a few buttons at the collar of her shirt. She rolls her neck, and when she looks at him, he can tell by her expression alone that she’s been doing it on purpose. There’s a smirk hidden in the corner of her mouth and he somehow manages to hold back the groan that’s trying to make its way out of his chest.
If either of the others at the table notice anything, neither of their faces give it away. He’s just fine with that, though.
It isn’t until David and Snow are occupied talking to Ariel that Emma places her chin in her hand and looks up at Killian with an innocent smile on her face. “Just a small taste of your own medicine.” He’s tempted to ask what she means by that but he sees she’s undone yet another button on the shirt and he sighs and averts his gaze.
“One day you’ll pay for this, Swan.” When he looks at her again, she’s looking right back with a very readable expression on her face. She knows damn well what she’s doing, by the looks of it.
This is still new. And because it’s still new, he knows that while he wants to venture into a whole sinful variety of responses to her teasing, he also knows he wants something that lasts. They have plenty of time to get to the fun parts, so for now he takes the coy behavior and slips it away with a redirection. “Tell me, love, did you ever gather up those Lost Boys that were running amok around town?”
“Every last one of them has been taken back to their homes and tucked in for the night. And if not, it’s Phillip’s problem.”
As the evening continues, he gets pulled onto the dance floor by Emma. He knows dances - he knows the Waltz and can hold his own in a Tango if he has to, but casual dancing to a steady, heavy bass beat is a different ballroom, so to speak.
“Come here,” she says when they get to the middle of the swaying bodies. “There’s only one rule. Pick a partner who knows what she’s doing.”
Since he moved to Storybrooke, Killian has felt like an outsider looking in. Even with the Fridays at the bar and the new friends gained over the past months, there’s been something holding him back. But in this moment, as Emma moves to the music in front of him, this feels like him becoming a true part of the town.
The dance they’re doing is very tame compared to some of the other couples around them, but this is a good start for him. At one point during a slower song, his eyes scan across the rest of the bar and his eyes land on Snow, her smile soft and considerate as she watches the two of them sway together. When she sees Killian looking, her smile grows wider. Then she’s grabbing David’s hand and pulling him to the dance floor, as well.
It’s not long before Emma turns Killian’s wrist to look at his watch. She groans, resting her forehead against his chest for a moment.
“One more song and then I’ve gotta call it a night,” she tells him.
“Agreed.”
Far earlier than he would’ve gone home on a raucous holiday in his youth, he and Emma push out of the bar and into the open, cool air. The spirit of the day follows them down the street, with Emma holding his hand and swinging their arms.
“You know,” he starts. “I quite fancy you, Emma Swan.”
“Yeah? Enough to accept that I’m walking you home instead of the other way around this time?”
“If that’s what the lady wishes, it would be bad form to deny it.”
“I do wish it, so lead the way, Hook.”
“It does suit me, doesn’t it?”
“There’s a lot we could unpack with which version of Hook you’re trying to be.”
“You’re familiar with Barrie’s discussions about the character?”
“I liked reading as a form of escape growing up. When the internet became a thing, I kind of went on a Wikipedia bender and ended up looking up everything I could about the play. There was this kid in one of my classes that was named Peter. We all called him Pan and we got in appropriate levels of trouble whenever the teacher left the room.”
“And what happened to young Pan?”
“We don’t really know,” Emma says, her eyebrows drawing down in thought. “He was gone one day. His foster parents wouldn’t talk about it. I thought about trying to track him when I got older but decided that there are some things that shouldn’t be found.”
“Kindred spirit with reading to get through life’s challenges,” Killian says, more to change the subject than anything else. It’s clear that the subject of the past still upsets her but at least they had a major thing in common growing up. “I would read for hours after I was finished with my assignments and chores. It was a Liam-approved activity that kept me occupied and out of trouble until the trouble got into me.”
“Is that from the files of the… how did you phrase it? That sordid but charming history?”
“Aye. All of which you’ll get to hear about in a couple days if that’s where the conversation takes us.”
“We can skip all the breakup stuff, if that’s cool with you,” Emma throws in.
Ground rules. He likes ground rules. And establishing them now means he won’t do something idiotic like pry into something she doesn’t want to discuss. And likewise, that means he doesn’t have to tell her anything about Milah, so it’s a perfect concept.
As they get closer to the end of the street, Killian nudges her a little bit. “This is me. The first floor.” He nods with his chin to indicate the charming little duplex up the short walkway. She tilts her head as she looks at it, smiling at the dark green and the small but intricate stained glass piece that makes up the window.
He falters trying to decide if he should invite her in, spitting it out at the last second. “Would you like to come in? I have hot chocolate on hand, since I prefer it over the powdered varieties.”
“That’s what Snow always makes me,” she says with a wide smile. “And while I’d love to, I have to get home and wash the holiday out of my hair. But save me some?”
“Of course, love. Would you text me just to let me know you’ve arrived safely?”
Her grin stays put as she removes the space between them, pushing onto her toes for a moment to press her lips to his. “I can do that. Goodnight, Killian. See you tomorrow.”
His quiet tidings slip out of the dreamy look on his face, and he sighs as he watches her walk back up the sidewalk. He waits until she turns down the next street before he makes his way inside, closing and locking up before he rests against the door.
It’s good that she didn’t agree, since most of his home is still packed away. Perhaps, he thinks, it’s time to change that.
-x- November 1: Friday
The hardest part of knowing they’re going on a date on Saturday, at least in Killian’s mind, is acting totally natural when he sees Emma Friday morning. Of course, it’s hard not to look excited and surprised when she throws off his whole routine by showing up outside his flat. She’s back to her hair flowing free, a knit cap snug over her head and a scarf wrapped around her neck. She lifts one of her gloved hands to wave to him, looking sheepish at the same time.
“Not that I’m not thrilled to see you, love, but what are you doing here?”
“Well, I figured it was pointless to make you walk by yourself when we’re going in the same direction. And the Bug is all warmed up and ready to go so those ears of yours don’t have to turn bright red again today.”
It’s only then that he realizes she’s standing in front of a yellow Volkswagen Bug, looking aged but well-tended if the soft puttering of the motor is anything to go by.
“I’ve never been one to turn down the kind gesture of a beautiful woman,” he responds, making his way towards her from his front stoop. “And it just so happens I have one in return.”
With care, he maneuvers his arm to shift one of the two stainless steel mugs from his protective hold and hands it over to her.
“I was going to give you that at the corner, but I suppose now is a good time, too.”
She happily accepts the coffee, flipping the lid open so she can inhale the warm aromas before closing it up again. “Thank you,” she says on the exhale, smiling gratefully and beckoning him forward towards her car.
“This is quite the vessel you captain, Swan.”
“Gets me from point A to point B. I take better care of it now than when I first got it.”
“There’s a story there. Going to share?”
Emma hums for a moment but says nothing else as she pulls on her seatbelt. She shifts into gear and starts making her way along the route he’s so used to walking. It goes so much faster, obviously, but then he realizes he has just a limited time to talk to Emma this way. In realizing this, his whole mind clams up and he’s at a loss for words as he watches the scenery zip by.
“I’m having dinner at my brother’s place tonight, so I won’t be out at all,” she tells him as they get closer to their corner. “You have tomorrow planned?”
“Aye,” Killian responds, thankful for the conversation opener. “But you’ll have to wait to find out where we’re going.”
“Gonna give me any hints?”
“Wear whatever you think constitutes as nice,” he tells her. He looks at her when they stop at a red-light and she’s staring at him with her eyes narrowed, probably trying to figure out where he’s taking her. “It could be that outfit from yesterday and I’d be just fine with that. Light’s green.”
She presses her lips into a thin line, but it’s more to prevent the smile from getting any bigger. “Okay, okay. Keep your surprises.”
“I’ve every intention of doing just that,” he tells her as they pull up outside of his office building. “Until tomorrow, Swan.” He lifts her hand from the gearshift to place a kiss on her knuckles, even if it is through the fuzzy fabric of her gloves. He exits the car as gracefully as one can from such a cramped space and makes sure to give her one final wave of goodbye before she drives off.
Now to just get through a day of work with his head on straight so he can enjoy tomorrow.
Once in his office, he sits down with his notes from the day prior and gets into the mindframe of where he needs to be for this story. Just from a quick glance at the planner in front of him shows he has a progress meeting with Robin today and another meeting with Henry on Monday.
There’s a solid ten minutes where he sits there, frozen in his chair, staring at the words on his computer as they blur together. His life has been about routine and order for so long but lately it’s felt like a breeze of chaos has swept through it. Not that he minds, of course. The sole reason everything’s a bit less structured is because Emma brings a new adventure to his life every day.
He can remember a time when the simple act of being surprised, like he was this morning, could’ve derailed everything, but instead it was such a small but thoughtful act on her behalf and one that he finds he would invite into his life now more than ever.
With a subtle shake of his head, he clears his mind in order to focus. Then, before he can get lost in thoughts of his date tomorrow, or what he’ll wear, or what they’ll talk about, he wades right into the next chapter of Henry’s book and lets himself be immersed.
He reads through the chapter again, jotting down notes by hand to check consistency later. Then it’s time for the surface edits. Spelling errors and word choices, grammar and syntax. He follows through each step carefully before going back to the start of the chapter to make notes. He’s barely a page in when Will appears in his doorway with a steaming mug of coffee and a take-out bag from Granny’s.
“Best to eat now because you’re up next in the line of meetings,” Will says as he sets the items down on the edge of Killian’s desk. Will has his own projects to tend to but he makes sure to leave some of the concept art for the cover of Henry’s book along with lunch.
“You’re a good man, Scarlet. No matter what everyone else tells me.”
“Funny man,” Will mutters on his way out, holding up a hand in farewell as he goes back to his own side of the building.
Killian has just finished his lunch when Robin taps on his door frame. “Ready?”
“Aye. Let me save everything I did today and we’ll get started.”
The rest of the afternoon is consumed with his meeting with Robin. He’s thankful for the freedom his boss is giving him regarding this project but it only means that this progress report goes longer than it would’ve if Robin was breathing down his neck the whole time. They sit there with their combined notes on the chapters Killian has completed and talk about what the discussion with Henry will consist of the following Monday.
Despite having a good deal of experience with editing under his belt, this is Killian’s first involvement from start to finish. It’s something he knows will get easier and smoother with time, but for now he’s already feeling the pressure to get it all just right. At the end of this tunnel comes everything else, including helping with marketing and strategy. With how young Henry is, there will be more buzz around this release than they generate for their usual authors. The road ahead is long and arduous, but one he’s absolutely willing to take.
In an astounding turn of events, Killian is one of those that ducks out of the office ahead of quitting time. He waves to Will on his way out, smirking when the other man throws up his hands in exasperation. He shrugs, pushing through the exit and welcoming the cold chill of November.
The walk back home is a little more brisk than usual, and he’s grateful for the fact that his heat is on and working to make his house as comfortable as possible.
He follows his own line of routines after he gets back, tucking his boots on the tray beneath his coat rack before heading to his office to put away his work. There’s a likelihood that he’ll sit down with it again later, but for now, he has every intention of going through every item of his clothing until he knows what to wear for his evening with Emma.
Choosing his outfit for the next day derails everything else for a few moments. After dinner is in the oven, he goes to his closet and carefully selects the items, standing back and admiring the effect of each combination. The winner is one that’s not far off his usual brand, but different enough that he won’t feel like he’s going to work. And hopefully, Emma will see that, too. Pleased with his choice, he sets it aside and goes back to check on his meal.
Once he’s sitting at his kitchen table, he looks around the sparsely furnished area. Much like his office, he hasn’t done any settling in the time that he’s lived in Storybrooke. It’s not that he feels like he’ll be leaving again any time soon, but rather an inability to see the big picture of comfort here just yet. As he glances at the counters and surfaces in his respectable kitchen, however, he starts to see what he never could before and what he thought of last night: a home.
Just after he finishes eating and cleans his dishes, he gets a text from Emma about dinner at the Nolan residence. There’s a picture of her hot chocolate, a respectable dollop of whipped cream to top it off, and he imagines what she must look like curled up in what is clearly a comfortable place for her.
“What are you doing?” she texts a little bit later. He’s not quite sure how to respond, since there’s an absolute disorder of boxes and package filler littered around his normally pristine kitchen.
“Creating a mess,” he sends back when he finally gets to his phone. He’s surprised when it rings right after.
“A mess?” her voice comes across, and it’s clear that he’s on speakerphone, so she must be back home already.
“An awful mess, Swan. Did you know that bubble wrap, if left alone for too long, multiplies inside the boxes you packed it away in?”
“I was unaware,” she says, clearly amused by the tone in her voice. “What are you unpacking?”
“Well, a little bit of everything. Other than some absolute necessities, my possessions have been living in boxes since they were shipped over. I’ve decided to start with the kitchen tonight, for some reason. And while everything is now out of the boxes, it’s in utter disarray until I get it all put away.”
“You finally settling in?”
“Something like that,” he says, his voice going a little soft. “Everything just seemed so orderly when I could keep a running inventory in my mind.”
There’s a momentary lull in the conversation, but he can hear Emma rustling around on the other line so he still knows she’s there.
“I was surprised you called,” he admits. On the other end, Emma huffs out a quiet laugh.
“I’m working on something. It was easier to call than text,” she tells him. “Besides, now that I finally have your number, I figured I should make up for lost time.”
“I nearly asked your brother for yours before I added it to your card,” Killian tells her. “I wasn’t sure if we were heading towards that ‘dating’ status and so I was afraid he might bite, as previously warned.”
Emma’s laugh comes across loud and clear, and he can hear the audio jostle. When she speaks again, it’s closer, and he knows she’s taken hold of the phone.
“Only if you ask him to, I told you that. I’m going to leave you to your chaotic kitchen. Don’t get so lost in it that you forget about our date.”
“As if I ever could, Swan.”
“Goodnight, Killian,” she says, her voice soft and smile evident.
“Sweet dreams, Swan.”
-x-
Chapter 6
53 notes
·
View notes
Text
Lee Scoresby SFW alphabet
Request: SFW alphabet for Lee Scoresby.
A/N: HERE IS IT! I finally finished it, I hope you guys like it. Fell free to like, reblog or comment. Also, requests are open!
A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)
Lee loves to show affection, and he does it in various ways: he holds your hand all the time, he showers you with kisses (he kisses your hands, your neck, your shoulders, your cheeks, your lips, your head, literally everywhere he can reach) and he hugs you all the time. He's not against PDA, but he prefers to keep it in private. Except when he's jealous, then he'll probably just start making out with you in the middle of a crowd.
B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)
As a best friend, Lee would be the most loyal ally you could ever ask for. If you ever needed help, he would be there, it wouldn't matter if you need advice or a rescue mission, he would help you until his last breath. You could expect him to be an asshole all the time (and sometimes he is), but he actually cares a lot, he just has a different way to express it.
C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)
Lee was kinda reluctant at first when it came to cuddles, he thought the bed was made for two things: sleeping or "sleeping". But after you convinced him to do it for the first time, he gets addicted to it. Every time you guys settle to rest or to search for a job and you are alone in the bedroom, he hugs you from behind and clings into you, until you lay in bed with him. He feels at peace when he's cuddling with you. He loves to hug you from behind, bury his face into your neck and circle his arms in your waist.
D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)
He never thought very deeply about having a family, but the second you mention it, it will be the only thing he'll think for weeks. He pretended to be a ladies man in the beginning, but one night Hester told you the truth behind that: he was scared to get hurt, and if he fell in love with you, he would want to settle down and have a bunch of kids. He was scared that you might not want it, and that's why he didn't give it all in. He's pretty decent about cooking and cleaning, but he doesn't try too much. He has lived alone most of his life, and that's why he knows how to do housework.
E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)
He would do it by distancing himself from you slowly until he stopped talking to you, and suddenly he would stop seeing you at all. If you ever asked why he would just play it off, saying that he wasn't ready for nothing serious and that he needed space. he would think about you for a long time after that, and Hester would constantly remind him of the mistake he'd done.
F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)
Again, he would be wary with you at first, but he would bring the subject up casually as a joke. When he saw how much you thought about it as well, he would plan something nice to ask you to marry him. Shaking a little, he would suggest it more seriously, anxious for your response.
G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)
Physically, he can be very gentle. He still needs to understand how everything works, but he's a fast learner and in no time he knows how you like to receive physical affection and other touches. Emotionally, he's still learning how to deal with his stuff, but slowly he tells you things and observes you to know how you are feeling on that day.
H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)
He only gives hugs when he remembers it. he enjoys it a lot, but you usually have to initiate it. Sometimes Hester will get closer to your daemon, and that will make Lee get closer to you and maybe initiate a hug. He really likes it, but it's not something he does so frequently. He prefers to hold your hand or to kiss you.
I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)
It wouldn't take much time, and it would come out accidentally. You would be fixing something in his balloon and he would be observing you, so awestruck and in love, that it would come out of his mouth and he wouldn't even realize. Only when you dropped everything and said it back after kissing him.
J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)
He tends to get very jealous very quickly. If he thinks someone is flirting with you, he gets in protective mode and doesn't even think before punching them in the face. He's working in his jealously, but sometimes he just can't help it: he'll punch someone in the face or he's going to kiss you right in front of them.
K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)
His kisses are playful, passionate and deep, it all depends on his mood. When he's at peace or everything has been going okay, he'll play with your lips and your sides, holding you closely and whispering bad jokes to you. When he's back from mission or something wild just happened, he gets passionate and deep, and those makeout sessions tend to lead to something else. It depends on his mood.
L = Little ones (How are they around children?)
He pretends not to like them, but deep down he loves children, he knows what to say at the right time, and you (and Hester) know that someday he would be a wonderful, caring father. You two discussed this before, but while he was thinking about five children, you were thinking... less.
M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)
He wakes up early, but he decides (most mornings) to stay in bed, just looking at your sleepy face. When you wake up, you go to the bathroom and he makes breakfast for you two. Then, you get on your things, but your mornings are always filled with kisses, hugs and delicious coffee.
N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)
Most times you two are too tired to care, so you just share a bath, eat something that Lee has made and go to sleep quickly. But when you two have the energy, things tend to go slower and you two "talk" for the rest of the night. His favorite part is the baths you share: he feels safe, clean and loved.
O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)
It doesn't take much time for him to tell you things about his past: his mother, the place where he grew up, he and Hester playing, how he met Iorek and stuff like that. Those things come in small portions, as night time stories or comments on things that you guys see along the way. The more he trusts you, the more he tells you.
P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)
He's a stubborn man, and when he's contradicted, he tends to get angry. You two fight sometimes, but nothing serious, and Hester always helps him to talk it through. When he gets angry he shouts, but he never ever gets physical.
Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)
Surprisingly, he remembers a lot about you: not a lot of details, but the most important things (that are inside his only braincell, Hester) are locked in his head. He usually remembers the details when you or Hester mention them.
R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)
The first time he took you for a ride in his balloon. He asked you if you ever wanted to fly, and when you said 'yes', he didn't think twice: taking your hand, he guided you to his balloon and showed you the sunset. You looked so happy, he fell in love with you even more. You didn't kiss that day yet, but Hester knows how much he wanted to.
S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)
Lee can get very protective sometimes, it being jealously or a dangerous situation. He can fight, he can stand up for you or he can just hold your hand and give you emotional support to protect you. And he knows you can protect him phisically, as you are a good fighter and shooter, but he also appreciates when you help him emotionally/mentally, when he's feeling down.
T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)
He never thinks too much about it until Hester is screaming in his ear about the gift he forgot to buy. He tries to be romantic and cheesy, but his idea of a romantic date is kinda different from the conventional. He's very good at doing his everyday tasks, as it's something natural to him.
U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)
Lee rushes too much into things, and sometimes he doesn't take time to understand other people's views. He does things without thinking, and it can cause trouble sometimes.
V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)
Lee is very full of himself. He knows he's handsome, and he cares a lot about his looks.
W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)
Yes, and he would feel a hole in his heart for a long time. Even entering the balloon would feel sad or lonely without your voice and your smell after you're gone.
X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)
Lee is a huge flirt, but he seemed stuck in place when he first saw you. Hester had to introduce them because he was a loss of words when he met you. After some time you two talked normally, but he was so nervous that he didn't flirt with you as much as he could.
Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)
Someone who just cares about themselves, who would do anything to achieve their goals no matter who has to get hurt.
Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)
Lee snores sometimes, and he tends to cling into the closest thing (you) to him that has any warmth. Sometimes, he wakes up from nightmares and you have to calm him down.
#lee scoresby#lee scoresby imagine#lee scoresby x reader#lee scoresby x y/n#his dark materials#his dark materials imagine
105 notes
·
View notes
Note
"Remember Me" with Jason and Tim? 👀 if it inspires you!
Part 1 because this is getting away from me a little bit so, uh…yeah, it sure did inspire me :D
Tim woke up in the back of a car, disoriented, with blood drying on his face and body aching with bruises, which in itself was worrying enough. To add to it, he had no recollection of the events that led up to his apparent abduction or injuries. Tim didn’t stir, feigning unconsciousness as he weighted his options. His mask was still on, and he chanced to open his eyes a crack and peer through his lashes.
Unfortunately, all he could see of his kidnapper was a shoulder and arm, and a red helmet peering over the driver’s seat. Not much to go on. It wasn’t a getup that Tim recognized, and he was more familiar than most with Gotham’s reccurring villains. A new player, then. Bruce wasn’t going to be happy.
“About time you woke up,” the kidnapper spoke, startling Tim. “Don’t bitch at me about the stolen car, we had to make a quick exit and I wasn’t about to swing your ass across Gotham.”
Tim stiffened, but sat up. He had no clue how the man had figured out he was conscious, but there was no use pretending otherwise now. Sloppy, Tim.
“What the hell are you talking about?” he demanded.
“I’m talking about you stupid genius jumping into a fight that wasn’t your own,” the man snapped back irritably. “Then getting the shit beat out of you, and making me responsible for your well-being, you stubborn little asshole. Didn’t I say I had the case handled?”
The man spoke with such conviction that Tim felt like he ought to know what he was referring to, but his mind came up blank. Doubt gnawed at him – was he really an ally that Tim ought to know but didn’t, or was this just one of the most bizarre tricks an enemy had thought up so far?
Tim tried a different approach. “Where are we going?”
“My place,” the man in the helmet said. “Closer than the Manor, plus I don’t feel like dealing with B-man glaring me into oblivion for letting you get an ouchie.”
Tim’s blood ran cold. While B-man was ambiguous enough that it could easily mean Batman and nothing more, the Manor was decidedly not. What chances were there that Bruce had an ally he trusted enough to disclose his identity to him, and yet Tim had never heard of him or forgotten about him?
And if he was an enemy, how had he found out? Why was his first move to kidnap Tim, instead of going to the press, or blackmailing Bruce? And why this whole facade that he was a friend? Unless he didn’t really know. Unless he had only guessed at the truth, and by deceiving Tim he was hoping to confirm it.
“Dude, you have a manor?” he asked, feigning misunderstanding in that special way every teenager could, by virtue of people thinking they were all morons. “You must be loaded. Guess it makes this whole gig easier, huh?”
The man turned to look at him as they stopped at a red light. “Tim, how hard did you hit your head? What the hell are you going on about?”
Tim fought to keep his expression neutral. It was one thing for the man to guess that Bruce Wayne was Batman, but how had he connected the dots and figured out that Tim was Robin? Tim wasn’t like Dick and Jason had been, adopted sons that could instantly be linked to Bruce. He didn’t even live in the Manor properly, and if he stayed over more nights than most, that certainly wasn’t common knowledge.
“That’s not my name,” Tim said stiffly.
The light turned green and the car jumped forward, going faster than before.
“I really hope you mean that in a ‘no names in the field’ kind of way, 'cause every other option I can think of spells trouble,” the man muttered.
Tim said nothing. As much as he wanted to get to the bottom of this, he was starting to think it would be best to escape soon and find out who the hell he was dealing with from the safety of the Batcave. But how safe was it, really, if this man knew?
“Tim,” the man prompted, “what’s the last thing you remember?”
Again, Tim stayed silent. He didn’t have enough information about the situation to judge what he could and couldn’t say. But he considered the question: he’d come home from school and immediately gone over to the Manor to help Bruce with a case that had been bothering them for days, and then…
“Do you know who I am?” the man tried again.
It was very possible that Tim was suffering from some form of amnesia. It was also possible that he had been whammied. If it was the former, it would explain why he knew nothing about someone who apparently knew both his and Bruce’s identities. But until he could remember, he had no way to confirm the man was a friend. He couldn’t trust him.
“Feel free to enlighten me,” Tim said.
The man pulled over, took off his helmet and the domino mask underneath it and turned to look at Tim, his brows furrowed in unmasked concern. “It’s Jason. You really don’t remember me?”
“Jason,” Tim repeated, but instead of jogging his memories all the reveal did was create further anxiety and questions. “Jason what?”
The name had to be a weird coincidence.
“Jason Todd,” maybe-Jason said. “If you remember that you’re a vigilante, that name must mean something to you.”
Tim stared. “You’re dead.”
“Got better.”
It was so ridiculous that Tim huffed out a laugh. “And I…we know each other?”
He wasn’t quite sure he believed it, yet, but the story was too absurd for him to cling to his theory that a criminal was trying to trick him. Amnesia seemed likelier by the second, though he was skeptical about the coming back to life part.
“Yeah,” maybe-Jason confirmed. “We were working a case together and you went down, so I hauled ass and got us out of there.”
“And the hit I took made me forget…” Tim trailed off. “How much?”
It was maybe-Jason’s turn to become reluctant to answer. “Look, what matters now is making sure your thick head didn’t take any lasting damage. I don’t have that kind of equipment, so change of plans: we’re going to the Cave after all. You can bug Bruce or Dick into playing twenty questions with you if you want.”
Well, if an enemy had access to the Cave, they were already screwed. How much worse could Tim really make it by going with him?
“I’ll come to the Cave,” Tim said. “But there’s no reason why you can’t answer my questions on the way.”
Jason started the car again and gave a drawn-out sigh. “You’re a pain in the ass, you know that? Years, Tim. You’re missing years. And I can’t just dump all that information on you on the spot, because first of all it would fuck you up, and secondly you wouldn’t believe half of it.”
Tim considered that; cases of retrogade amnesia following a traumatic brain injury did sometimes erase years and even decades of memory. It could very well be true. His hair was different, longer than he remembered. He looked down at himself – he was taller, stockier. Everything seemed to support what Jason was saying. And what the hell was going on with his costume?
It was…well, it was not bad, per se, just…different. All red and black, and the symbol…he wasn’t quite sure what it was, but it was definitely not an 'R’. He tried not to examine it too closely, but –
“Bruce, hey,” Jason said abruptly, and Tim realised he was talking on the phone. “Yeah, he’s with me. No, I told him not to – yes, we’re fine. More or less. Timmy’s amnesiac, but you know, other than that. We’re on our way. Obviously I didn’t, fuck off. No, he doesn’t remember me so I don’t think…Maybe make sure he doesn’t get ambushed by the brat the moment we walk in. What? I’m just saying. Jesus, see if I do anything nice for y'all ever again. Yeah. Bye.”
Tim listened to the one sided-conversation intently, and waited until Jason had hung up with a shake of his head before asking, “Who’s 'the brat’?”
“Bruce’s long lost biological son,” Jason deadpanned. “Will that be all?”
Tim blinked. “I hate that I can’t tell if you’re shitting me or not.”
Tim was very good at knowing things, and when he didn’t know something that mattered, he did his best to learn. He hated all this doubt and uncertainty. He hated that he had to depend on a virtual stranger to tell him what was true and what wasn’t. He was doing his best not to freak out about this whole amnesia thing, but it was really messing with his head.
There were other questions he wanted to ask, but he bit his tongue, not so much because he didn’t think he could convince Jason to tell him – from what he’d seen, Jason would grunt and complain but ultimately go along with it – but because he was scared of the answers, deep down. His mind raced ahead, trying to come up with explanations for everything that seemed out of place, and every one of them was worse than the other.
“Just tell me – is everyone okay?” Tim asked.
“They’re all breathing and kicking, if that’s what you mean,” Jason said. “They’ve been through more shit than you remember, but that’s the life, right?”
“Yeah,” Tim said, “I guess.”
Soon, he reminded himself, soon he’d be in the Cave, he’d have the Batcomputer to help him get up to speed. And according to Jason both Bruce and Dick, who he could trust no matter how many years had passed, would be there to help him through it.
#my writing#prompts#tim drake#red robin#robin#jason todd#red hood#batman#bruce wayne#dick grayson#nightwing#batfamily#batfam#batfamily fanfiction
255 notes
·
View notes
Text
Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 5.8}
*Severus Snape x OC*
Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend... and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.
General warnings: professor x student, blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing
Words: 5.3k
Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!
______________________________
They came to stand in the middle of the bridge where the wind was whipping around them in icy streams relentlessly, clawing at Robin's skin and making her eyes water as she leaned on her forearms on the railing to look down into the black ravine beneath. It was scary out here indeed, even more so when the wooden construction swayed under the wind's rapid beating.
Robin looked up from the dark for a moment, and instead let her eyes lock with his as she motioned for him to come over to the edge as well. For a second he stayed frozen to the spot right in the middle of the path, safe between the railings, but then he moved to stand next to Robin as her gaze had undoubtedly commanded him to. A mere step away, he mirrored her stance and they looked down into the blackness together.
"Have you ever considered jumping?" Robin eventually asked without a hint of reluctance. He knew how weird her mind could be, at least to a point where the question shouldn't surprise him anymore. "I mean… do you ever hear that calling? From the bottom of the abyss?"
"All the time."
"The allure of the fall, and the promise that comes with it… It's quite tempting, is it not?"
"It shouldn't be. Not to you." His words touched Robin in a way she couldn't explain, and instinctively her eyes returned to the man next to her with the soaring of her heart.
"It shouldn't be to you either. But obviously we don't have that choice." She said, and for a moment observed with a strange fascination how the wind blew his hair around his face like raging black rivers on a bed of white.
"Most people couldn't handle a choice like that."
"To me, the temptation is so much more frightening than the height or the darkness." Robin sighed. "It's ironic… the scariest things are always just a product of one's own mind."
"I agree. Sometimes what we aren't afraid of what is, but of what could be. What we could do, and sometimes even what we want to do. The human mind is the most dangerous place of all."
"Exactly." Robin said with both a smile and a huff, but the grim look on his face dwindled her excitement in an instant. Maybe it was time for a subtle change of topic. "I haven't actually answered your question from before."
"I am aware."
"Would you still like to know?"
"Obviously."
"Alright…" Robin sighed under her breath, and focused on one single star in the nightsky as she considered her words. "I can truthfully tell you that I am happy with the work we do, and I'm happiest right where I am."
"Good."
"What about you?" She turned her head to look at Snape once more, directing the inquiry at him and not the night, but she would have been met by black eyes that seemed to look straight into her soul either way. "Are you happy?"
For a long moment he didn't reply at all. He merely held her gaze in a way that made him seem impossibly close to everything Robin tried to hide, while however he was still standing at the perfectly imperfect distance of one large step away. But like a piece of music, his silence created the distance that the unspoken words behind his eyes pulled her through in a chase of an everfleeting melody. Robin's heart was racing; a sharp contrast to her easy facade that became harder to keep up by the second.
"I am closer to happiness than I have been in a long time. Longer than I care to remember." He finally replied, and the statement was both positive and heartbreaking at once. Robin wanted him to be happy, truly. Not just close to it. But she realized that there likely was nothing she could do about that.
"Well, I'm sure you're gonna be even closer to it later, when you can finally get rid of that insufferable person who keeps dragging you out into the cold every new year's eve." She tried to joke instead, actually having to smile at her own sense of humor, thus also smiling at him.
"I doubt that." He replied though, and averted his eyes to peer back out into the distance. "It will rather be a momentary setback."
Robin's small smile widened inevitably, radiantly taking over her entire face, but she just couldn't help it. Hearing that her presence at least was preferable to him than being alone was enough to make her skin tingle, and her heart boast in her own happiness. Maybe if he thought like that, they really could be friends somehow. Maybe they already were.
"Quit smiling like a fool, you make me regret saying something nice." He grumbled a short moment later, still staring out into the dark, and Robin finally cracked. With her laughter, the entire tension fled into the open night as well, and it left her feeling finally at peace.
"Well, I'm not going to stop. And you better don't regret it either, because it actually made me happy." She grinned up at him in the utmost certainty that he wasn't even annoyed with her for real. "So just get over yourself, will you?"
As an answer he merely turned his head just enough to glare down at Robin, and she had to grin even more as she turned to look ahead now instead. The view really was spectacular, he hadn't promised too much last year. Even if the swaying of the bridge was fairly distracting, and the cold bit horribly into the exposed skin of her face and hands. But it was beautiful just like that, loud from the wind and silent from the night, cold from winter and warm from Snape's presence next to her.
It couldn't be long now. Minutes, or just seconds until the year would end. And once again they would greet the new year with comfortable, companionable silence. But this time there were no arches, no columns or masses of stone between them that would give either the illusion of solitude. This time, when a year ended and a new one started, when the sound of fireworks could barely be heard over the wind, they stood on the bridge together.
"Happy new year…" Robin finally spoke up, once the silence had surrendered to her will. "Or at least one that is a bit closer to happy, if that isn't entirely impossible."
"I stopped using the word impossible when I met you."
"Then I will be sure to challenge you another step closer to happiness." Robin smirked, and turned around to lean her back against the railing.
"Please don't." He sighed and rolled his eyes in the typical exaggerated manner as he stepped back from the railing as well, coming to stand in the middle of the path in front of Robin instead.
"I most definitely will." She smiled innocently but brightly, and while she had no idea how she could do that, she was absolutely determined that she would indeed.
"If you insist." He sighed and motioned for her to come along back to the castle. As they walked next to each other through the dark, he added, "You could always start by making me coffee when we are back in the dungeons."
Robin let out a snort, then chuckled to herself, and at last nodded with a sigh and a smile. "If that's what it takes, I'll gladly make you coffee for the rest of the year as well."
"Tonight should be quite enough."
"How gracious of you."
"Why, pray tell, do you have to sass me at any given opportunity?"
"Someone's got to do it." Robin shrugged with a smirk, as they crossed the courtyard where it was actually quite a bit warmer than it had been out on the bridge. Maybe they would better stay in here again next year… but perhaps without all the columns between them.
"You still are truly insufferable!" He grumbled, but his hand returned to the small of her back at almost the same time nonetheless.
"It's a new year, not a new reality. What did you expect?" She raised her eyebrows with a laugh, and gladly let herself be led towards the dungeons once more.
"Of you? Absolutely nothing less."
_______________
For Snape's birthday, Robin had actually come up with three little things that she'd hoped wouldn't make him as uncomfortable in a combination as just giving him one obvious gift straight up. For one, she had throughout the day done her utmost to keep people from bothering him. That had basically entailed sitting around in the hallway in front of his office all day and keeping everyone from entering unless they had a really good reason to. An issue that Robin couldn't take care of herself. Thus she did a good amount of his work, but without his knowledge of course. Only in the evening, when she had 'randomly' brought chocolate cake to have with the usual coffee, she had admitted that she'd seen to it that he had a quiet day. However she only had told him because he had actually been concerned about the absence of the usual idiots throughout the day, and she'd felt bad to be the reason for his concern.
The third and last thing she wanted to give to him now was an actual gift, and she had been looking forward to this part of the present the entire day. With a mischievous smile, she placed a small jar on the table in front of him, which held nothing but a single golden pearl inside. He stared at the object for a few seconds with that intensely burning gaze, then directed the very same at Robin.
"What is this?" His tone was unusually shallow, and at the same time his eyes spoke volumes to her, in an entirely different language.
"What does it look like?" Robin asked in return, calm to the core, for she had come somewhat prepared for a reaction like this. It was rather understandable, actually, if not even very much reasonable. "It's my gift to you."
"You cannot seriously expect me to accept this."
"Whyever not?"
"Do you have any idea how rare these pearls are?"
"Of course I do." She shrugged with a smile. "That's why I'm giving it to you in the first place. There would be fairly little use in me giving you something you already possess, and as far as I'm aware, you didn't have any Alteria pearls. Until now."
"If you could come by this, it cannot be authentic." He reasoned to himself with a frown, and at last picked up the small jar with a careful touch to inspect the object inside. "These cost more than I could ever afford, and I actually get paid fairly well. Occasionally."
"It is as real as they get, I can promise you that. But if you don't believe me, you can always check for yourself."
"How can you promise something like that?"
"Because I know where I got it." Robin sighed, but her smile stayed. Maybe he would stop doubting her if she told him how she had acquired it indeed, but that would also kind of take away her own fun in his incredulous expression.
"You cannot give this to me, Robin, no matter where you bought it. It isn't a gift, but a fortune."
"Value is such a stupid concept." She rolled her eyes at him and leaned back in her chair. "This pearl in itself means nothing to me, I could toss it out of the astronomy tower without a second thought and very likely get me another within a day. But it means a lot to you, obviously, and to me that is where it gets its only value. It's only valuable if you keep it, and if it means something to you."
"You have a strange concept of value yourself." He said, but he couldn't beat Robin's arguments. "If you truly want me to consider keeping it, tell me who sold it to you, and how you could convince them to do so."
"I will tell you anything you want to know, but after that you will keep it, as my gift to you, without remorse, yes?"
"We will have to see about the remorse, but if it means so much to you then yes, I will keep it." A pause. "...Just so you stop bugging me."
"Thank you!" Robin rolled her eyes in exaggeration at his late comply, before she sat up straight once more to start explaining with a sigh. "Alright… First of all, you should know that I agree with you of course. Alteria pearls are extremely expensive if you try to buy them, and I am not crazy or rich enough to do that. Or stupid enough, for that matter. It would truly be a waste of money."
"Consider me confused, then."
"It's not at all confusing, actually, it just seems that something very basic escaped your notice for once. Now, before you get all scolding with me, it isn't a mistake, but more of a… negligence of alternatives."
"And your point is?"
"My point is that everyone tries to find a place to buy the ingredients they need, whether that be plants or animals or something like Alteria pearls. People are always looking for the place to buy it cheapest, or to buy it at all. What everyone, including you, seems to forget however is that finding the ingredients by yourself isn't actually all that difficult if you know where to look. I mean sure, there is the school gardens and the greenhouse, or even Hagrid's creatures, but do you ever go out beyond that to find the ingredients you usually would buy?"
"No… As a matter of fact, I do not." He replied with a mild frown that made him seem almost surprised at the realization. Probably he really hadn't considered doing something like that before. Robin smiled at him in silence while he seemed to think it through.
"Obviously not all ingredients can be tracked down without a trip around the world, but you can come by a surprising amount if you put a little time and effort into it." She went on to explain. "What I mean to say is that I didn't buy the pearl. I merely tracked it down for you. Sometimes knowledge is more valuable than money."
"No matter what I believe to know about you, you always manage to surprise me." He finally mused, with the faintest of smiles, as he twisted the small jar with the pearl in his hand. "Thank you for this gift."
"You are most welcome."
"Will you tell me how you found an actual Alteria pearl without leaving the school grounds? I am curious to know." He inquired with a real smile for once, a small one, but it was most definitely there. Robin's heart melted into mushy tingles once again.
"It takes away the entire mystery, but oh well…" She sighed with a mirroring smile and leaned forward as she started to explain. "I bargained with the Merpeople. Legilimency is actually a pretty good form of communication, and while I'm by no means actually good at it, it sufficed to tell them what I wanted and what I could offer in return."
"How did you even get to that point?"
"Plain old research. I'm actually surprisingly good at that." She laughed and brushed a stray piece of hair behind her ear, only for it to immediately untug itself again. "I read that Alteria pearls grow in some weird kind of oyster. It's black and has blue hair on the shell… looks beyond creepy, if you ask me. I still have it somewhere if you would like to see it, but it's rather useless. The condition under which they grow are very similar to the conditions in the deep parts of the black lake, so I thought my chances were good. I figured that the fastest way to find one was to ask the folks who live there. I've had my share of experience in trading though and thus I looked up something that the Merpeople might actually be interested in in return for their assistance."
"And what did you offer them?"
"Music." Robin shrugged with a smile. "I shared a few memories of music I love, and what that music felt like to me. They love music, sirens and selkies and their whole kin."
"I never would have thought of that."
"Well, I never would've thought of cutting something up instead of squeezing it out, or of heating something up before adding it to a potion to keep the temperature steady; all those little things to make the recipe better." She replied with a smile. "Would be pretty dull if everyone was good at the same thing, wouldn't it?"
"It certainly would be less productive for our work." He mused, and then looked at his empty cup in front of him with a risen eyebrow. "More importantly, it would be a shame if my ability to make coffee was as mediocre as yours."
"Sneaky…" Robin chuckled, but already picked up their cups from the table. "But I'll play along and do you the favor to make you coffee to prove how 'mediocre' my skills really are."
"Do feel free to prove me wrong."
"Oh, I will for sure."
_______________
One of the most dreaded things in the fifth year at Hogwarts –besides the inevitable OWLs– was 'the talk', as generations of students had called the career advice meeting that took place around the end of April. It was obviously supposed to show the students possibilities for what they could strive for after school, and which N.E.W.T. classes they would need to take to have a chance at getting into their chosen career path. Mostly, the students dreaded this conversation, for it entailed talk about grades and the future. Two topics most people at 15 or 16 weren't all too fond of.
As Robin discovered, the professors weren't all too fond of the talk either. At least one certain potions professor seemed to be dreading it quite as much as his students, and he made no secret of that fact either. Not in front of Robin at least, and she appreciated his honesty as always, even if she could do fairly little but listen to his complaints about her classmates over coffee on the night before the endless row of conversations would take place. What she could do and did do, however, was to offer that he could skip out on her own career advice session that was planned for late noon and use the time for a break instead. They could always talk about it after dinner over coffee, after all.
To Robin's surprise he actually deemed the suggestion a good idea and took her up on the offer, which unfortunately meant that Robin had to attend classes for the entire day, while most of the other students could skip out on at least fifteen minutes of classtime themselves. It was a terribly slow day, and Robin was only glad once it was time for dinner. During the meal, the career advice talks were the number one topic of conversation in every house, even among the lower years who listened curiously, and the higher years who shared their own experiences from the years prior. Robin shrugged most of it off and tried to tell herself that it wasn't a big deal, but she honestly dreaded talking about her future like it was some predictable certainty, something she could actually look forward to.
As it turned out, Robin's 'talk' started just like any other conversation she and Snape had every single night anyway. She made them coffee, mainly because he was looking so annoyed with the entire world already that she took pity on him, and they sat in his office at the small table just like they always did these days.
"So tell me, do you have an idea for what you would like to do after school?" He inquired with a risen eyebrow, and took a sip of his too hot coffee, only to scowl at it a second later.
"Not really. I don't see the point in deciding on something now only to change my mind later. I'll find something when the time comes."
"I'm certain you will."
"Is that how this conversation is supposed to go?" Robin asked with a humored frown, and crossed her arms on the edge of the table as she leaned forward.
"No. But I see no point in telling you what to do, for you will ignore it anyway and do what you yourself deem best."
"Well, what if I don't know that's best?" Her frown lost a bit of the humor in it. "What if I end up homeless under some bridge because I'm not good enough for anything?"
"Are you asking me or yourself?"
"Nevermind." She grumbled and leaned back in her chair with a start. One brain cell less, and she would've started pouting. He had a point.
"Going by your grades, you indeed are more than good enough at everything you do."
"That doesn't count."
"No?" He quipped, eyebrows raised in feigned surprise, as he went to recite by memory. "Exceeds Expectations in Astronomy, History of Magic and Divination; Outstanding in Charms, Transfiguration, Herbology, Care of Magical Creatures and quite obviously Potions… That does not count for you?"
"You forgot the Acceptable in Defense Against the Dark Arts." Robin mumbled to herself and stared down at her hands in her lap. Yeah, after the incident with the petrification, Morgan had actually dropped her an entire grade without any good reason. That arse…
"That is hardly your fault and you know it as well as I do." Snape said in an almost scolding manner that obviously did nothing to cheer Robin up. "Is it really so hard for you to be proud of your other grades merely because one isn't perfect?"
"Obviously. But I don't expect you to understand that."
"I believe I do though. Professor Morgan's unfair treatment of you doesn't pass by me without an equal seeping rage."
"But that's not even the point!" Robin groaned under breath, then sighed. "Sorry. Of course I'm angry about Morgan's idiocracy."
"But?"
"But I'm also angry because I don't have perfect grades in every subject. It probably sounds pathetic to you, especially because it doesn't actually matter for anything. I know that the OWLs will make up most of the final grade."
"Then why does it matter so much to you?"
"Because…" She stopped, thought, but still didn't know how to convey what she was thinking. Feeling. "It doesn't matter why it matters."
"To me it does, if it upsets you." He said, and the statement had Robin's heart skip a beat once more. Great… he was getting too good at making her tell him things without actually demanding it of her. It was unfair, when he used kindness to disarm her, and left Robin entirely defenseless.
"If I'm not perfect, I'm not good enough." She sighed, but couldn't bring herself to look him in the eye. "I define myself over my grades and it's stupid and pathetic and still I do it. When I'm not perfect, I'm nothing."
"Do you actually believe that?"
"I don't believe it, I'm not stupid enough to want to think something like that. I just… feel it." She shrugged, and picked at the corner of the table with her fingernail. "I always have."
For a moment, it was quiet. Snape didn't say a single word, until Robin finally gave in and looked up to meet his eye. "I am surprised."
"By what?" She asked right back, surprised herself that he didn't straight out tell her how stupid that was indeed.
"You give yourself so confident, and yet you tell me that you think so little of yourself." A pause, a shared glance, a million things unspoken but one. "I had no idea that you were so ridden by self-doubt."
"Sorry to disappoint." Her voice was but a whisper, her tone cold as ice as her gaze dropped back down to the black liquid in her cup. After a moment, it blurred together with the rest of the table, and then the entire thing was washed away by tears at last.
"You are disappointing no one but yourself." Snape finally said. "And you are prone to keep doing so if you measure yourself by impossible standards."
"You were the one who told me to be better! What did you think would happen?!"
"I expected you to push yourself, yes!" He snapped back with an irritated expression. "But you cannot blame this on me. I never wanted you to be perfect."
"Good for you, because I only would have disappointed you in that as well."
"As well as in what?"
"I don't know! Everything?!" She huffed and rolled her eyes to herself. "I may be quite good at school, alright, but what else is there to be proud of?! I'm terrible at dealing with people, nobody in my grade even talks to me anymore, and I'm probably the worst Slytherin there ever was! I'm nothing like the other people in this house! The stupid hat probably made a mistake by putting me here in the first place."
"You are right. You are nothing of what the general public expects of people in Slytherin. They are supposed to be lazy and irresponsible, arrogant, ignorant and most of all, so very proud of their heritage that they dismiss every thought of being just as flawed as everyone else."
"Thank you for summarizing it so very eloquently." Robin huffed again, but the general unease she felt just wouldn't make way for brighter thoughts.
"That however does not mean that you do not belong in this house." He simply ignored her comment and went on with a pointed look at her instead. "You are intelligent, resourceful, ridiculously loyal to those you deem worthy of it, and determined to reach any and every goal you set for yourself. And if that loyalty, ambition and passion of yours aren't some of the core principles of Slytherin, I would be ashamed to be the head of a house that values those qualities less than egotism and pride."
"Maybe. It doesn't matter." Robin said, even though she didn't believe her own words. Everything he said mattered to her, and especially if it was something that made her heart soar like that. But her brain was stuck in a downward spiral that it would take more to escape from than this.
"Then what does matter? Can you tell me that?" He sighed and leaned back in his chair in what looked a whole lot like defeat. Was he truly giving up on her already?
"No." Robin whispered, and her eyes filled with tears again, simply because of how pathetically annoying she was being. "I'm sorry… maybe I should just go."
"Don't even think that I would let you leave like that." He was quick to reply, and Robin slumped back down in her chair before she'd even gotten the chance to get up.
"Because we haven't finished the talk yet?" She asked with a sigh, and went back to picking at the edge of the table.
"Because you clearly are upset, and I have every intention to change that before I let you leave." He said, and Robin actually had to smile a little at his words. However when he got up from his chair, her eyes followed him to the door with a frown. "I will be back in a moment. You should use the time to think about what it really is that troubles you so much. Then perhaps we can solve the issue when I return."
"Where are you going?"
"You will see." With that, he closed the door behind himself and left Robin alone in the office.
A few minutes later, or more like a good while later, he returned and Robin immediately had to smile. He had brought chocolate cake.
"Have you thought about what the real problem is?" Snape finally asked, as they were both chipping off pieces of the cake that he'd placed in the middle of the table between them.
"I'm probably just having a bad day. Somehow, everything makes me nervous and then I say something wrong and then I get angry with myself… And then there's the whole career advice thing on top."
"I believe the cake might be a start on the generally bad day, but you will have to elaborate on what concerns you about the career advice if I shall be of any help to you."
"Alright…" Robin sighed, then finally looked up from the intricately decorated cake fork in her hand. "The whole 'talking about the future' thing is giving me anxiety. I mean, I do have good grades now, but I'm just so scared of failing when it actually comes to something important. And talking about OWLs and N.E.W.T. classes and careers is important enough to panic over. I just try to spare myself the disappointment of making plans and then finding out that I'm not good enough for any of them."
"That is reasonable and yet ridiculous. You haven't ever failed any classes before, not even a single essay in my class, which is remarkable enough on its own… What makes you believe that you might fail now?"
"Nothing in particular. It might be general anxiety, or just my own pessimism. Everyone is scared to fail though, so maybe I'm just being dramatic. Maybe I care too much about being better than everyone else."
"It might surprise you, but not nearly everyone cares about their work and their future as much as you do. Not nearly everyone has the capacity to care so deeply about anything at all, actually."
"Are you saying that it's a good thing that I panic over possibly screwing up my future?"
"Not necessarily a good thing, but it certainly makes you who you are. People are shallow, and you are the very opposite. I for my part have always had quite a distaste for shallow people. So you might actually consider your ways a good thing, yes." He stated, and waited for her to look at him before he continued. "You have absolutely no reason to be concerned, Robin. Your grades would make anyone go green with envy and I have no doubt that your OWLs will look even better than your current record. If you do not believe your own success up to this point, then perhaps you can at least believe me. And I am absolutely certain that you will achieve anything you set your mind to."
Robin's lips curled into a smile, and she found that she had to believe him no matter what. She wanted to believe him. Maybe worrying too much was a disadvantage she would have to live with if it meant she was granted to have passion in return. And oh, she had so much to be passionate about. So much to care about. Maybe she should pick out some N.E.W.T. classes indeed.
"Perhaps we should start over." He said after a moment, and sat up straighter in his chair. "Do you have an idea what you would like to do after school?"
"I'm always open for suggestions." Robin smiled in return, and her heart did that silly thing again where it probably could be heard in the entire room. "All I know is that I want to do something with potions. And study ingredients."
"Why am I not even remotely surprised?"
______________________________
Tags:
@ayamenimthiriel @chibi-lioness @t-sunnyside @alex4555 @purpledragonturtles @istrugglewithphilosophy @beenthroughalot
General Tags:
@its-remy-not-ratatouille @wegingerangelica @dreary-skies-stuff @wiczer @lotus-eyedindiangoddess @theweirdlunatic @caretheunicorn @kthemarsian @lady-of-lies @strawberrysandcream @noplacelikehome77 @theoneanna @mishaandthebrits @i-am-a-mes @nonsensicalobsessions @exygon @hiddles-lobotomy @rjohnson1280 @annwhojumps @spookycatqueen @salempoe @headoverhiddleston @fanfiction-and-stress @createdfromblue @halszka-potter @thecreatiivecorner @themusingsofmany @kinghiddlestonanddixon @scorpionchild81 @crystal-28 @adefectivedetective @lokis-girl-in-mischief @booklover2929 @iamverity @lovesmesomehiddles @akk4rin @whitewolfandthefox @stuckupstucky @kassablanca13 @delightfulheartdream
#snape#severus snape#snape fanfiction#snape x oc#severus snape x oc#snape x ofc#young snape#professor snape#snape community#severus snape imagine#severus x oc#young severus#hogwarts#hogwarts fanfiction#hogwarts au#slytherin aesthetic#slytherin au#slytherin#harry potter imagine#harry potter fanfic#harry potter fic#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter#Voluptas Noctis Aeternae#professor x student#professor#dark academia#fanfic writing#pro snape
65 notes
·
View notes
Text
[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Two Hundred Ninety-Two: The Solution to all Problems ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata ] [ SasuHina ] [ Verse: A Light Amongst Shadows ] [ AO3 Link ]
Sometimes, the solution to all your problems is a lot simpler than you’d guess.
When he was younger, Sasuke thought he knew what was best. Not just for himself, but for the world as a whole. An angry teenager betrayed by his village and let down by his friends, he sought change on a scale grand enough to encompass the world: tear down the shinobi system, wipe clean the kage, erase the borders that pitted friend against friend.
In the end, of course...he realized that nothing is so simple. It will take work - years, perhaps generations of it - to undo the damage done by those who came before them. This, even with his new power, is more than he as one man can do.
After facing a trial for his wrongdoings (and being cleared), he took to wandering the world for a time before returning, prompted by the resurrection of his brother. Though he’d left to try and gain a sense of scale to the world and its budding changes, Sasuke then settled on a new - and what he hoped would be his last - goal: to, rather than change the world...change his home. So, he returned, did his best to settle in...and find a way to cleanse Konoha’s shadows. He did so with the help of his tiny family, and their new allies in the Hyūga. The old council was ousted as the true minds behind the Uchiha massacre. Both brothers were fully pardoned. And with Itachi set to return to ANBU, and Kakashi working closely with them both, it seemed that Konoha was finally on track to face its past and get better.
...of course...they still had their problems. Dissenters forever convinced of Uchiha guilt would be ever-present. Sasuke’s slowly-mending friendships were still cracked and damaged. But one unexpected gain for him was a new bond: that with Hyūga Hinata. With a clean slate and a better understanding than most of his struggles, it was she who extended the first true olive branch to him. As allies and mutual friends of the rest of team seven, she was around him more often than not. Add in their aligning personalities, similar pasts, and shared uncertainties about their futures...and he soon found himself with a listening ear that didn’t judge. Just understood.
And eventually, well...he realized he wanted to be more to her than just a friend.
Their joint effort to help bring back the police force, finding a new purpose in keeping Konoha safe from the inside, only saw them grow closer as partners until, eventually, they couldn’t deny it anymore...and made the leap from friends to lovers.
It wasn’t easy. Sasuke was wary of his lingering reputation and those who still bore hatred against him. If someone were to try and harm her because of their bond...he’d never forgive himself.
But Hinata said it best: they both knew what it was to lose family. To nearly die. To realize just how short and cruel life can be, so...why not take happiness where you can find it?
So, he agreed...and they began to date nearly two years after the war’s ending. And less than a year after that, they were wed.
The house afforded to them in the nearly-empty land of the Uchiha compound wasn’t as large as the manor, but it suited them well. Both continued their work in the Uchiha-Hyūga police force. They worked well together, played well together, and overall had what most would call the perfect relationship.
...even if it wasn’t totally perfect.
They’d argue, but very rarely, and even less commonly to any serious degree. Though both stubborn in their own ways, they also knew better than to let a disagreement fester. And Sasuke learned early on never to take her or what she meant for granted.
No matter his bad days or his bad moods, she was always there to make them better. Something as simple as her smile could turn his entire week around. He knew just what she was worth. After so long of being alone, and turning his back on the idea of love, what he’d found in her was beyond special.
It was...everything.
Looking over a recent arrest report, Sasuke holds his brow in one hand, the other holding the parchment aloft. A criminal from Iwa managed to make it all the way to Konoha, taking his unlawful ways with him. Now with charges in multiple lands and villages, the handling of his charges is...a mess. Sasuke’s been talking all week back and forth with authorities in Tsuchi no Kuni, and they still haven’t reached an agreement.
At this rate, he’s almost ready to drop what’s charged here and ship the man back to Iwa and be done with it...but he knows that won’t go over well. He’s just so tired of all these nit-picking regulations and laws regarding cross-border criminals.
“Sasuke…?”
Glancing to his study door, he softens a hair as Hinata peeks in, looking reluctant to interrupt. “Hey...need something?”
“Just checking on you. It’s almost ten o’clock…”
His brows lift in surprise. It’s been four hours since he came in here…? His bracing hand lowers to drag down his face with a weary sigh. “...I’m sorry. I just can’t quite figure all of this out, and…”
“The Iwa case?”
“Yeah. I’m about ready to toss it rather than deal with all of this...bureaucracy.”
A sympathetic smile lifts her lips. “I’m sorry, Sasuke...I know this whole thing has been a mess. Is there any way to get some help with all of the regulations…? Kakashi, maybe?”
“He’s too busy for something of this scale. Multinational or not, this guy’s too small-time to bother the Kage with.”
“...well...I doubt you can solve this tonight, ne?”
“...probably not,” he admits with another sigh.
“Well...I thought you might be wearing yourself out, so...I made you a snack.” It’s then she steps fully through the door, revealing a tray of tea and senbei.
Shoulders wilt in relief. “...you’re the best, you know that right?”
Hinata just gives a soft laugh. “Well, I don’t know about the best, but...I thought you could use a little pick-me-up.”
“I have the most thoughtful, attentive wife in Konoha.”
“You’ll make me blush!”
Finally smiling, Sasuke takes a moment to stand and stretch his legs. “Never thought being a police officer would mean so much sitting…”
“Breaks are important.”
“I’d forget all about them without you. You made tea for yourself, right?” He gives her a telling look.
“I did, it’s...out in the kitchen. I didn’t want to b-bother you…”
“Nonsense. I’d enjoy the company, honestly. And a break in the silence that’s slowly driving me mad…”
Hinata stifles a giggle, nodding and fetching her own cup. They stand and have their break, Sasuke wanting to give his muscles a chance to shift positions. Small conversation, more just to let his mind focus on something else for a few minutes, floats between them easily. And as he listens to Hinata summarize her day off running errands, Sasuke just...watches her talk, only half paying attention as a thought strikes him: just how lucky he truly is. It’s a thought he has often, but it still manages to humble him every time. He has a wife he adores, despite being alone for so long. It’s so easy for her to help him relax, help him calm...feel at peace as he was never able after the massacre. She is his rock, his home, his inspiration. One word from her, and all of his problems just...fall to the wayside. If only for a time.
Realizing she’s lost him, Hinata slows to a stop, head tilting. “...Sasuke?”
“...sorry, got lost in thought.”
“Oh? What about?”
His lips twitch upward. “...you.”
In spite of herself, Hinata gives a small jolt, cheeks flushing pink. “R...really?”
“Just remembering how fortunate I am.”
She then softens. “...I do the same. All the time.”
“It’s a little hard to believe sometimes...isn’t it?”
“Mm…”
Finishing the last of his tea, Sasuke sighs. “...well, I’ll give this report one more crack, and then we’ll head to bed. Sound good?”
“Mhm. You’ll get it - I know you will.”
“Then there isn’t any doubt.”
.oOo.
I'm about to pass out so I'll be brief OTL Just some basic fluff in my typical canon verse. Which...honestly I'm thinking of majorly revamping, but I'm so darn busy idk when / if I'll have time for it. But talking with some friends and RP partners has made me realize how many holes the darn thing has, so...we'll see. But very little would change with this aspect (aka SH), so no worries there lol But yeah, not...too much to say. I'm exhausted and dealing with a sore eye and jaw, sooo...I'm gonna go sleep lol - thanks for reading~
18 notes
·
View notes