#there with your gentle reminders that when push comes to shove we need to learn how to take care of each other but the moment you tell me
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spitedemon · 3 months ago
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“yall need to learn to treat trump voters with compassion because—”nope. nah. think im gonna stay angry actually*
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simphornies · 1 year ago
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Angst! I choose you! (That was cringe I'm sorry 😭)
Can I please request a Vox x Female Reader where Reader protected Vox from Valentino
(PS: Val killed Reader in the process)
And because of that Velvette has to take care of a Depressed Vox
A/N: My friend and I were going back and forth on ideas for this because we love angst. I hope you guys enjoy! A part 2 will be made for this because I love you guys
Word count: 1.6k (1,611) Warnings: ANGST, valentino being a FUCKER, descriptions of violence, death, there is no mention of y/n but it's f!reader
My Beloved [ Vox x F!Reader ]
Vox got into another argument with Valentino. Both overlords had anger issues so their arguments always end up becoming explosive with glassware being thrown around. You came in as soon as you got word of their fight. When you ran into his office, it was clear that it was about you again. Valentino shoved you out of his way, glaring at you, seething with anger. He slammed the door shut but you couldn’t care any less. You ran to your lover’s side and held his hand.
“Vox? What happened?” You frowned, seeing all the broken glass. “Are you hurt anywhere?”
“It’s…” He hesitated and planted a gentle kiss on your hand, “It’s nothing, baby. Don’t worry about it.”
“I’ll always worry, my beloved.” You held his hand close, “Is it about the shoot again?” He sighed and nodded.
“He came in here demanding I convince you to be in one of his movies. I told him no and well,” He gestured to the shattered glass that littered his office, “You see how well that fucking turned out. Fucking moth just won’t stop. I told him that there’s nothing he could ever offer for your body! He ju-” You gently tighten your grip on his hand, cutting him off. He looked at you and the worry in your eyes melted his anger away. “I’m sorry, baby. It just makes me so angry when fuckers like him think they have any right to a sweetheart like you.”
“I’m sorry I’m causing this much stress.” You said softly, “I’ll talk to him if you need me to!”
“No!” He said as his screen got brighter with his increased panic, “No, babe. It’s fine. I got it handled. I promise, okay?”
You knelt next to him, your head on his lap, “Okay. But if anything happens, I’ll always be here for you, my beloved.”
He smiled, gently caressing your head, “Of all the souls in Hell, I know that the most, my dear.”
Your relationship with Vox seemed to come out of nowhere to those that didn’t know the past he shared with you. Velvette was the first to learn about his life with you before he died. He confided in her. At first she just wanted tea on his life before Hell but it ended up with her showing genuine interest. He had been pining for you even after his death. He wanted so desperately to confess how much he loved you. You never left his mind in his final hours and when he found himself in Hell, his heart broke. He feared that he would never meet you again. This fear pushed him into trying to get into relationships with people that had the smallest of reminders of you. You were an angel to him, the gentlest soul he’d ever met. He was sure that you would go to Heaven but when he saw you aimlessly roaming the streets of Hell, he rushed to meet you. You didn’t recognize him at first glance but the moment you heard his voice, everything fell into place. He, honestly, didn’t understand how you ended up in Hell. You had to remind him that you ran his “business” with him. His love for you blinded him from your heinous crimes, almost erasing it from his memory just out of adoration for you. He got such a massive ego boost when he learned you went on a bit of a rampage after his death that led to your execution.
It wasn’t long after your arrival that the two of you entered a honeymoon phase, constantly out on dates and always being at each other’s sides. After months of flirting, teasing and a multitude of dates, Vox finally asked you out. He was bad at romance more than he’d like to admit. Without Velvette’s help, he was definitely going to change his mind. The way he asked you out made you think he was going to propose. He had petals scattered on the floor and held the sweetest flowers he could buy in Hell. He was a nervous wreck waiting for you to arrive at the location he sent. The sight of him standing disheveled in front of a giant “Will you be mine?” neon sign made you burst out into laughter. But you said yes nonetheless.
Days passed after the argument. You were walking up to Vox’s office and as you got close you heard yelling. It was Valentino starting another fight. You started to run as soon as you heard glass breaking. When you reach the doorway you see Valentino aim a glass cup at Vox.
You grabbed his arm to stop him and raised your voice. “Stop! Valentino, that's enough!”
Valentino got angrier at your attempt to stop him and he pushed you off of him, knocking you down to the ground. “Don’t fucking touch me, bitch. You’re lower than me, don’t forget that.” He hissed. Vox ran to your side and helped you up.
You scowled at him as you held your head high, “I don’t give a single shit who you are. You’re a little bitch baby that can’t take no for an answer.” You spat back.
“What the fuck did you call me?!” He yelled and began to step closer to you. Vox blocked him from getting any closer.
“Val. Fuck off. I said no and my decision isn’t going to change.”
You saw Valentino raise his hand to hit Vox. Without thinking, you pulled Vox out of the way. You barely dodged his swing, his claw scratching your cheek deep enough for it to draw blood. You growled at him and slapped him across the face. It shocked all three of you. Your confidence faded once Valentino opened his wings, his face shrouded in rage.
In the blink of an eye, he had you by the throat. You instinctively held onto his hands, trying to pry his tightening grip on your neck. His hold alone left bruises on your neck. Before Vox could reach him, Valentino flew through Vox’s balcony. He used your head to break through the glass door, making you scream from fear.
“Valentino! What are you doing?!” Vox yelled, running after him.
“Aw, what?” He teased, “You’re telling me you really give a fuck about this bitch?” He laughed, menacingly. You struggled against him and managed to get a glimpse of how high up you were. “You loved me too, remember? Before her.”
“Put her down, Valentino!” He screamed, glitching from both fear and anger. His pleas received laughter.
“You’re turning out so pathetic and soft, Vox.” He grins, blood dripping from the side of his mouth. “I’ll put her down, just for you~”
Your eyes widened at his tone and knew exactly what was coming. You looked at Vox with tears in your eyes. The fear in his eyes broke your heart. His hand reached out towards you as if he could reach you. THe only thing you could do was smile at him. He couldn’t get himself to smile back, he could only stare at you. This exchange only fueled Valentino’s rage.
“V-Vox.” You croaked out, your voice hoarse from Valentino’s grasp. “I love y-”
Before you could continue, you were suddenly pummeling towards the concrete below you.
“No!” Vox screamed at the top of his lungs.
You heard his cry for you. You heard Valentino’s cackle. As you got closer to the ground, you relaxed your body and shut your eyes, accepting what was about to happen. And then you no longer heard anything. You didn’t hear the way Vox screamed and cried. You didn’t hear the hums of electricity that came before his power outages. You died from Valentino’s rage.
All power was cut off in Pentagram City. He heard your last words. He knew what you wanted to say. After the time you shared together, you had never told him “I love you.” because of your personal past. He didn’t need to hear you say it, you both knew how much you love each other. He didn’t know that you were finally ready to tell him you love him. He didn’t know he helped you get over your past. And he’ll never get to hear you say you love him. He’ll never hear your sweet voice again. He’ll never get to make up the time he lost with you. The only time he’ll be able to hold you again was to collect you from the ground.
His heart was shattered. It was obvious to everyone around him. Vox never left his security room. He locked himself in there and drank his pain away. He played the videos he had of you, looked at your photos and longed for your smile. He’ll never hear your songs, your jokes, your laugh or see your smile. He was alone again.
The only person that managed to get into his security room was Velvette. She did her best to comfort him and get him to clean up. Everytime she went in there, the entire room would reek of alcohol and grief. As cold as her heart was, the sight of him crying at your photos and videos broke her. She grew close to you when you first came. Her first impression of you was from Vox’s lovestruck stories and meeting you was a different ride. She understood why Vox loved you the way he did. She never spoke of it but she cried with Vox when you died. She was enraged. The only thing that stopped her from killing Valentino herself was the grief.
None of the Vees spoke to Valentino for months and that pissed him off.
Tag list: @froggybich @baizzhu @dickmastersworld @matrixbearer2024 
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hum-suffer · 1 year ago
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We'll say hello again (Nevermind the chasm between us) 12
The Diwali celebration is a beautiful sight to see at any day and especially at night. It's gorgeous and the whole state looks alive for the fortnight.
Gauri is allowed to attend the puja, the gleam in her brother's eyes tells her he had something to do with it but he's never opened up about it and Gauri doesn't think he will answer truthfully if she asks.
Something in her makes her want to drown. Does she need a man, even if it's her brother, to protect her? To defend her? To advocate her validity?
A finger brushes against her wrist and Gauri glances at Maa. She gives Gauri a smile, gentle yet reprimanding. "Focus, daughter." Gauri, properly chastised even though she hadn't even been scolded, looks away smiling.
They're given the first prasad after the Puja and as is traditional, Gauri takes the plate of fruits and smiles at the Rajpurohit. "Let me have the honor, Pandit ji." The Rajpurohit's face twists in a bitter grimace and Gauri takes all the more enjoyment in it. However, he seems to be trying to shove the plate off to someone else.
Gauri glances at Maa out of the corner of her eye and her impassive face tells Gauri that she needs to learn how to handle this on her own.
Her smile turns sharper, bigger. She beckons Bhairav forward and gestures him towards the plate. "Let my friend have this insurmountable honour, Pandit ji."
She shouldn't take so much pleasure in being a general menace. But making the Rajpurohit choose between either a woman recently over her periods and a man who is a mere sworn sword, little more than a slave in the eyes of men.
Pandit ji looks to be gritting his teeth before he smiles at her and wordlessly shoves the plate of fruits into her hands. She turns around pleasantly. "Come, Bhairav, one of us has to distribute the fruits, don't we?"
She's sure the Rajpurohit heard her when she hears Bahu snort and Maa sigh.
Bhairav looks awestruck and he makes a token protest about being unworthy but Gauri gives him a smile, giddy and smug, and Bhairav closes his mouth instantly.
Katappa is the only one who has tears in his eyes as Bhairav hands him a slice of banana. Gauri beams at him,"What are you staring at, Mama? It's Diwali, look alive!" The other people in the temple seem ecstatic to see her, some of them touch her hands and, as much as she tries to not let them, her feet.
The plate empties not soon after, when they're outside of the temple. The crowd has already thinned, and Gauri already has a ridiculously smug smile on her face. Bhairav looks done with her. "My princess, do try to look less smug. The public does not know that you gain pleasure in baiting your possible assassins."
"You worry too much, Bhairav." She grins at him, but her hand spasms in the way that reminds her once again of the way that Ratan had jerked her off. To distract herself, she pointedly drops the last slice of an apple into his hand. Bhairav gives her a look that tells her that he knows that she's distracting him from the conversation.
Before she can cajole him into being less sour, she hears a whisper of a movement. She stills and so does Bhairav, even though he looks confused. Her sense of hearing is sharper than most, he mustn't have heard it. There's another movement and this time, she can hear steel. She looks at Bhairav out of the corner of her eye and sees him looking around in confusion. He hasn't heard that.
Her heart beats in her ear and she takes a deep breath. She knows, she knows that she needs Bhairav here. But she also needs witnesses. Prominent, objective witnesses.
"Get my brothers and Maa." She tells him, her voice sounding harsh and furious to her own ears. She sees him open his mouth in protest but before he can speak, she gives him a look. "Now, Bhairav."
He hesitates for a moment before grabbing his dagger and pushing it in her hands. "I shall be right back, my princess."
Gauri nods at him and tightens her grip on the dagger, one finger at a time. His dagger is beautifully sharp and she's grateful for that. He gives her a heavy look and Gauri doesn't know what it means but before she can have a chance to decipher it, he turns on his heels and makes a run for the temple.
Gauri tilts her head, focusing on the full thump on the ground. It's probably footsteps. Uneven footsteps.
She looks back at the temple for a moment and breathes. Let me live today, she thinks. Let me have my vengeance.
The footsteps get louder.
There's a pause, a heavy silence, before she hears the noise quicken and steel cutting through air behind her. Gauri ducks on sheer instinct and it's the Rajpurohit who has a sword in his hands, holding it over his head, ready to strike again. Gauri swipes the dagger at his ankle, uncaring of war rules and ethics. He curses, jumping back, and swings the sword again. She parries with the dagger but she's at a disadvantage because of the size of the blade.
He kicks her stomach, and Gauri stumbles enough to trip and fall down. Before she can stand up, he kicks her face, hitting his foot on her nose.
Gauri grabs his ankle and twists it, pushing him away to stand up. She breathes heavily through her nose and tries to stabilize her heaving chest. Gauri feels her nose hurt and eyes burn in response but she only readjusts her hold on the dagger she's and snarls.
"You dare?" He says,"Coming here after I told you not to, sullying my place of worship with your presence! You dare break the sanctity of my sanctuary?"
Gauri grits her teeth. She doesn't reply and ducks underneath the sword. The blow would have sliced her torso and pulled out her intestines. The blaze of fury burns in her veins and she uses his momentum as an advantage to twirl around him and hit his back with the thali. She grasps the thali in her other hand vertically and stabs it in his back again, twice, thrice, until he's leaning forward and falling down and coughing.
Gauri doesn't realise that's blood on her hands.
But when she does, a surge of bloodlust roars through her. Now, she will aim for the neck.
He turns around at the last moment and kicks her stomach, sending her tumbling back, on the ground. She heaves and feels the ache spread over her torso like venom. Gauri clenches her teeth. She stands up again.
But before she can drive the dagger through his heart, there's already an arm snaking around his neck and choking him. She recognises the armband. It's Bhairav.
The Rajpurohit gurgles and elbows Bhairav, who grunts but doesn't let up. Gauri takes the moment to punch his nose, once, twice and thrice. Her eyes meet Bhairav's over the Rajpurohit's shoulder and the fury she sees in his eyes blinds her for a moment.
She wants nothing more than to kill him.
She knows that it is what he is feeling.
Dizzy with pain and want of blood, Gauri grits her teeth. "Don't kill him," she rasps,"Don't kill him, Bhairav."
He is hers to kill, Gauri thinks. But she won't kill him. It is not her discretion.
Bhairav nods at her resolutely, even as the Rajpurohit's eyes droop and his gurgles die down. He holds her eyes, even as her family comes closer. He holds her eyes, as her brothers fuzz over her and Katappa fuzzes over him. He holds her eyes and Gauri holds his dagger.
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The trial is but a farce.
Somehow, her uncle manages not to get his name in the middle of the hell that the Rajpurohit's statement is. The official statement tells his distaste of Gauri due to her impertinence and her major flaw of being a royal woman.
Gauri doesn't stay to see the end of the trial.
Her stomach is covered with bruises, black and blue. Her hand heals a little everyday.
Bhairav is thoroughly scolded by Katappa and Bhalla for leaving her and Bahu is an overbearing shadow. Maa doesn't allow her to be alone anywhere until the trial ends. Bhairav keeps his duties impersonal. Her uncle gives her snide looks.
Gauri wants to scream.
It is her life that was threatened and yet her decisions seem to be everyone's favourite idea to despise.
Bhairav trails behind her, quiet as a mouse. His silence burdens her in ways she cannot begin to explain.
Gauri walks towards the armoury where Katappa is training the new recruits. He smiles when he notices her, the only person who isn't disappointed by her these days.
He walks towards her and stands beside her, Bhairav stops at a respectable distance to give them the illusion of privacy but they all know that he can hear them.
"How are you faring, Gauri?" Katappa asks her, gesturing a guard to bring her a chair. She overrides his order with a shake of her head.
"Way worse than is expected of a person who survived an assassination attempt. It seems that the only one happy to see me in this palace is my damned horse."
Katappa chuckles at her. "It is not like that, Gauri," his tone is reassuring but does it really matter? He continues,"We were all just very worried for you when Bhairavrath burst through and told us to come to you without any explanation and we found you two fighting the Rajpurohit. You must admit, it is a sight one cannot understand. An assassination attempt on you, Gauri. It is no small deal."
"And yet, I am made to feel like the culprit. Because I cared for diplomacy more than bloodlust?" She looks away with a sneer, staring into the far ends of the city that too must have heard about what happened at the Diwali Puja. "Whatever they say, Mama, I am still my mother's daughter. Polity is my best suit. I did what was right, and yet no one seems to want to understand me."
She's aware that she sounds petulant but is too far gone to care. She just wanted what was best for the state and her family, damn them. The least they could do is understand her reasoning.
Katappa's eyes soften. "Tell me, then."
Gauri sighs. "Had I not sent Bhairav away, we would have dealt with the Rajpurohit too. He is much more efficient than I am at the moment, I am very well aware that the matter would have ended without either of us hurt, had I let him stay."
Katappa doesn't say a word, lets her continue.
"But then, the tale could have been spun. We're but children in the eyes of you all, do not dare to deny it. Had you found that particular scene without warning, the tale could have been spun to say that we were misguided and we were the real perpetrators." Gauri sighs and wishes she hadn't denied the chair. She hadn't taken into account just how tired she is.
"And Maa may have trusted us, but she would have been labelled an emotional and unfit ruler, had she trusted the word of her daughter over the circumstantial evidence." Gauri turns again, catches Bhairav's eyes. He doesn't pretend that he is not overhearing them. He raises an eyebrow and the action endears him to her undeniably, a hint of his personality she's seen in two days.
She turns back to Katappa. "I don't want the crime of Brahmhatyaa on either of our heads. And trust me when I say this, Mama; the man would have been dead if I was as honest or as frank as my brothers are. He's alive, because he is useful. I let my culprit live and for what? Scorn? Distrust? Disappointment?"
Bitterness clogs her throat and she clenches her hands, her healing one sending tingling sensations up her arm. Her mouth tastes like ashes.
Katappa smiles at her, in that soft fatherly way that he so seldom does. Often, he preoccupies himself with believing that he is unworthy of the love that Gauri and Bahu give him. It is true that Gauri doesn't share that deep of a bond with him— she follows her brother, blindly, and if he gives his affection to Katappa, so shall she— but she's always had a kind of kinship and easy affection that flows between them. He provides her with clarity and safety.
Katappa is her safety away from comfort.
"Gauri, my child," he whispered, voice deliberately lowered and kindred,"I do not think that you want me for this conversation."
Gauri shakes her head. It is true that she wants her brothers and Maa to understand her. It is truer that she wants Bhairav to stop being so impersonal. But she needs Katappa to know this too. "No. I am at the correct place, having a true conversation with the correct person. The others that need to know, will ask me. If they can condemn me without knowing, they can apologise without knowing, too."
Her anger shimmers close to the surface even as Katappa changes the topic and asks her about her plans for the future and he tells her of ridiculous rumours that fly in the city. Some are amusing while some are plain unbelievable.
"They say you too Mata Mahalakshmi's blessings and tore down the Rajpurohit like She did with Kohlasur." Katappa says as they slowly come to an end, pride clear in his tone. Gauri shakes her head with a smile. She really loves the small folk and their inclination towards the dramatics of life.
"I shan't keep you any longer, Mama. Thank you for listening to me." She moves forward and tenderly hugs him, mindful of her own bruises. Katappa, infinitely more mindful, keeps his hands on her shoulder and her head, patting her head. She can tell that he's shocked but he doesn't freeze.
"Thank you for sharing with me," he says as they part, his eyes suspiciously glistening. "And do come whenever you will it. You are always welcome."
She nods and smiles at him. It doesn't feel forced.
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The stony silence between them continues all the way to the gardens. Gauri, still righteously angry, feels no need to break it. Let him suffer, she thinks. Let him suffer in my silence.
Gauri sits down on the ground, curling in on herself to save her from the cold. She looks at Bhairav, standing rigidly, and feels the sting of mercy in her heart. "Sit down if you want to, Bhairav."
She doesn't look up to see if he sits down. After a moment of hesitation, she hears shuffling and he's sitting beside her.
Gauri closes her eyes and hopes that her mind quietens now, after her talk with Katappa. At least he listened to her. She needs to talk with her family too, needs them to know, too. But not today. Not even before they approach her. She has some self respect, damn them.
"I was nine," Bhairav begins in a whisper,"when my sister was murdered."
Gauri looks at him in shock, frozen. She expected a lot of things but not this. She turns completely towards him.
He doesn't glance at her when he continues,"My family wasn't the happiest but we made do. My mother...she left us. My father raised my sister and I to the best of his abilities, of course. We had a large age difference— ten years. My father died when I was seven and my sister later married her childhood friend. We made do."
Bhairav clears his throat and Gauri shifts, closer. Not touching him, for she knows what is proper, but she hopes her attention and silence provide him courage to continue, if he so wishes.
"I was out, gone with Katappa to learn sword fighting. My didi and jijaji did not like to fight but they supported me. They were sweet, non violent. When I came back, the door was broken down and they were lying dead, in their own house." He clenches his jaw and looks down at his feet. His hand plays with the black threat on his ankle. Gauri averts her eyes respectfully.
"They were killed, for money. My jijaji had earned good money for his pottery. They looted the house and killed them." Bhairav looks at her now. His eyes are smouldering and rimmed red. But his voice still breaks when he promises,"I will not see you dead as well, my princess."
Gauri nods. She understands what he means. He's always been one for a few words, but she's always felt what he feels.
He feels he failed his sister. He was devoted to her. His father was not the best but he tried and Bhairav respects that. His sister raised him. He loved her. He loved his brother-in-law too, felt indebted to him for letting Bhairav stay in his house. He never felt that he belonged in their house. It was theirs, not his. Now that it may be his, he hates it.
He thinks he failed his purpose, his devotion— he fears to fail another purpose, another dare she say it? devotion.
His anger is at her for risking herself but also at himself for obeying her.
She deliberately softens her voice,"And I will not have you hung because you levelled allegations against the Dowager King and the Rajpurohit, Bhairav. We needed witnesses, ones that could be unquestionable. Your life is my responsibility, your honour is my responsibility. I will not have you become a target. In return, I promise to do my level best to save myself from any dangers, but you must also always obey me in this capacity. Trust me."
Bhairav shakes his head and gives her a smile, fond and tired at the same time.
"Your honour is my honour, and your life is my life, my princess. And whether I like it or not, I am going to obey you for the rest of my life, my princess. Just never at the cost of your life. Never again."
Gauri smiles at him, tentatively, and teases,"We are at an impasse, then."
"How about I obey you and you only order me to save your life?" He asks with a charming grin.
They both know that either will stop at any cost to save the other.
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Tagging: @allizzprobablynotwell @alhad-si-simran @vijayasena @voidsteffy
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justmeinadaze · 2 years ago
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I'm In Control Part 18 (Steddie X You)
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A/N: Per the results of the poll I bare you this. Enjoy <3
Warnings: Daddy Steve and Sir Eddie and all that that implies (I regret nothing). Sir Eddie takes charge in this one ;). No real angst in this one. There is some push back from Steve but you'll see what I mean. Mostly fluff and smut.
Word Count: 4842
Steve’s admiration filled eyes watched you as you leaned forward on the kitchen counter, staring at Eddie in the living room while he watched tv, lazily strumming his guitar. He slid up beside you and lightly shoved you with his shoulder. 
“What are you thinking about, pretty girl?”
You smiled as you leaned against him. “I want to do something for him. Something he’d enjoy. He does so much for you and me, you know? He deserves to be reminded that we appreciate him.”
Steve tenderly kisses the top of your head as he grins at your kindness. “What did you have in mind?”
###############
“This is fun. I don’t think we’ve been outside our houses or anything work related in forever.”, Eddie grins as he sips from the straw of his to go cup. “The road trip to the bible belt doesn’t count.”
You laugh as you take his hand in yours. “The beach coming back was amazing though.”
“Yeah, it was.” He brings the back of your hand to his lips, placing a gentle kiss on the back of it. “Where are we going now?”
“Little miss here thought it would be a good idea to take you out on the town today.”, Steve grinned as he continued to look up at the store names in front of him through his sunglasses.
Eddie’s feet planted in place, pulling you back slightly into his chest. “Why?”
“Told you he’d take it well.”
You playfully squinted your eyes at Steve as you lift your own sunglasses on your head. “Why does there have to be a why, Mr. Munson? We love you and we thought you deserved to have a day all about you.”
“SHE thought. Baby, this was your idea. This is why we need you. I should have done something for him a long time ago but I’m an idiot.”, he chuckles. 
Their eyes shift to you as soft growl escapes from your throat. “I still hate the way you two talk about yourselves. Steve you’re not an idiot and Eddie WE are doing this because you always take care of us without expecting anything in return. We wanted to show you how much WE love you and appreciate how much you do for us.”
As you try to start walking forward again, Eddie tugs at your arm, bringing you back to his chest before wrapping his arms around you and hugging you to him. 
“I love you, Y/N.”
You grin as you pull back to look up at his smiling face. “I love you to. Now can I show you where I wanted to take you?” When he nods you gesture across the street to a store with an album cover style sign. 
As soon as you three walk in, you feel Eddie’s demeanor change from cautious to excited. “This record store has been here for years. It’s literally two-stories of albums, CDs, and even cassettes. Upstairs they also have movies and equipment for musicians to. Sometimes at night they have bands that play on the stage over there.”
Like a kid in a toy store, the metalhead’s grip tightens around your hand as he pulls you towards the sign that says “Metal/Rock/Classic Rock”. Steve laughs as he looks around the albums closest to him, giving you and Eddie time to be alone. You watch as Eddie’s eyes light up, searching through the music in front of him as he tells you pieces of trivia and memories he has with each one. 
“Oh, Y/N, this is such a good album. On his days off my uncle would play this full blast while he would read or just fix things around the trailer.” He flashes you a big tooth filled grin as he points to a song on the back. “This was the first song I learned to play all the way through on the guitar.”
“’Talk Dirty to Me’. Yup. That seems fitting for you.”, you giggle. His eyes quickly flick upstairs before dragging you along towards the guitars hanging on the wall. Eddie finds a worker and asks if he can try out “this baby right here.” The kid smiles as he brings it down and hands it to him before handing you both headphones. 
You watch carefully as they talk to each other, trying to figure out what they are discussing. He plugs the instrument into a nearby amp and as Eddie’s fingers glide over the strings, you hear the cords echo in your ears. The staff member pushed a few buttons on an adjacent machine, giving the man a thumbs up before heading back to his counter. 
You take a seat in the chair across from him as the Poison song begins to play and Eddie’s eyes focus in front of him as he begins to strum at the strings. 
“You know I never I never seen you look so good You never act the way you should But I like it And I know you like it too The way that I want you.”
Obviously, you had seen Eddie play his guitar many times but it was completely different when he was out in public. Like the time you saw him play D & D, he got invested into the experience. It was like he was being transported to another world as his fingers moved along the instrument. 
“Till I'm screamin' for more Down the basement Lock the cellar door And baby Talk dirty to me.”
He rose to his feet as he began playing the guitar solo and you swear he took your breath away. Eddie was always confident; to do the work they did he had to be. This man in front of you was a mix of the air of dominance he carried into the bedroom and the strong-willed kid who went through so much but persevered until he made it out of the other side. 
Eddie was handsome 24/7 but he was just extra fucking sexy with a guitar in his hands, playing it and controlling it like the master he was. Master…
I’m in…
“Baby?” Eddie lifted the headphones from your ears before cupping your face in his hands. “Where did you go, sweetheart?”
“Here you guys are.” Steve came over, holding some albums in his hands. “I’ve been looking everywhere for…what? What’s wrong?”
The metalhead chuckles as his eyes meet your glassy ones. “I think I was the one that broke her this time.”
The other boy comes around and leans down to look at your face. “Ay, Munson. She had more place she wanted to take you. Can you stop being so goddamn attractive and bring her back?”
“Steve, you’re asking me to do the impossible right now. I mean look at me. I was born beautiful.” You giggle at his joke making him smile. “There we go. Almost got her. Quick, Harrington. Say something else stupid to make her laugh again.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. Try something like—” You lips cut him off as you pull his collar bringing him to you. Eddie’s eyes were still closed when you finally leaned back. “Ok, now I’m broken.”
You smile up at them as Steve extends his hand, guiding you to your feet. “What did he do that pushed you there?”
“I can’t tell you now because if I do, I will go back to that headspace.”
###############
“This place I’m not 100% on but I hope you like it.”, you grin as you guide them both inside the building. They figured out quickly that this place was a bar but the atmosphere was completely different. 
Along the walls were neon quotes of songs and movie quotes. Steve pauses at a booth that reads “I’ll stop the world and melt with you.” In cursive and pointed at it ecstatically. “Hey! I actually know this song.”
You giggled as you all slide into the booth and he took out his phone to take a picture of you three underneath it. A waiter comes by taking your orders and rapidly returns with your drinks. 
“What the hell is that?”, Eddie asks as he points at your glass. 
“An apple martini. Why?”
“That is the daintiest thing I’ve ever seen in your hands.”
“Look, you both know I can handle the harder stuff but if you want me coherent for tonight…”, you trail off as you raise your glass in his direction. 
Eddie smiles as he wraps his arm around your shoulders and brings you closer to his side. “We don’t have to do anything tonight. I’m having an amazing time with you as is. The only thing that would make this day better is being able to fall asleep next to you.”
You smile as you bring your lips to his, pulling away only when your food finally arrives. 
As you ate, you lifted your leg and threw it over Steves who in return rested his hand on you knee as he continued to pick at his plate. 
“Do you like it? I wanted us to have dinner somewhere you both would like.”
“Yeah, honey, I do. He seems to be enjoying himself. This was a good idea.”
“What are you two whispering about over there? I don’t want any more surprises!”
You both laugh as Steve kisses your forehead before you turn back to Eddie. “Technically, this isn’t MORE surprises since it’s in the building.” The metalhead flashes you a confused look as you lightly push his arm so you guys can leave the table. 
Taking his hand, you lead him down a hallway to a room that is lined with arcade machines. “These are free to play.” 
“Oh, oh, Harrington! Come on, dude.”, Eddie hits his chest as they head over to “Street Fighter”. “Loser has to take shot.” 
You watched them play, beaming at both their relaxed personalities. As they shouted at the machine, Steve’s nose would scrunch as he jokingly growled through his teeth. Eddie would bounce on the balls of his feet as he mashed the buttons in front of him. 
“Ok, I need a minute. One more shot and I won’t be coherent tonight either.” Steve grinned as he patted his friend’s shoulder before rubbing yours. “I’m tappin’ out, babe. Kick his ass.”
“Please, little miss. Kick my ass.”
You narrowed your eyes at him as you took over the control and promptly won the first round. “Oh no, Mr. Munson. Did little miss kick your ass?” Eddie smirked at your sarcasm as he knocked back his shot of tequila. 
Steve’s eyes zeroed in on you both as he watched you play and smiled lazily at your pout as you lost. They both chuckled as you shuddered at the taste of your drink. 
“Goddamn, that’s strong. Steve, how are you still upright?”
“Motivation.”
“For what?”
“To be inside of him later.” You and Eddie freeze as you turn to face him. Steve nonchalantly waves his hand in the air. “If he wants… I know. I know, honey. Eddie’s in charge.”, he slurs.
You glance at the metalhead who has a goofy smile plastered across his lips. “Well, there’s that.”, you cackle as you wrap your arms around his waist. “He wanted to surprise you with that but I guess the alcohol won.”
“And what about you?”
“Is that even a question? You are always in charge of me, Sir.”
Something wicked glimmers in his eyes as he guides you to the game behind his friend. “Are you good at pinball, little one?”
“Lord, I don’t think so.”
“That’s ok. I can help you.”
Steve swivels around in his chair as Eddie turns you toward the machine placing your tiny hands on the buttons on either side. After pulling the lever to release the ball, he places his palms over yours and presses his body against your back as he looks over you. You relax into him as he guides your movements, his breath warming your ear as he hovers. 
“This reminds me of that night at TJs party when we watched Steve through the crack in the door.”
“When you two were jealous and in return all Steve got was a shitty blow job.”, you giggle. 
“She had so much confidence in what she was doing to.” He sighed as he shook his head.
“It still made me jealous. Eddie said I wanted it to be me in there and he was right.” 
“Can I ask you something, pretty girl?” You nod as he rests his chin against your skin. “What turned you on at the music store today? Was it watching me play?” Your eyes flick to Steves who was completely entranced my Eddie’s voice, excited to see where this was going. 
“I asked you a question, baby.”
“No, Sir. Not exactly.”
“Huh. Okay. Was it…my fingers and how they move?”
“Not exactly, Sir.”
Eddie smiles as his lips trace up the side of your neck. Your eyes flutter closed before being suddenly started open by the sound of the machine dinging as the ball passed the slots and disappeared. 
“You’re going to have to explain it to me then because I’m dying to know.” He releases his hold on you long enough to release pull the lever and let the pinball loose within the game again. 
“While you were playing, I was thinking about how you change when you play. You control the guitar like you control me when WE’RE playing.” You can’t help but blush as you continue, feeling like a shy girl about to say something naughty. “Then I thought that…well…you’re like a master of your instrument. Master…” You mumble the last word, feeling your brain start to tumble into that fuzzy headspace.
Eddie’s hands let go of yours as he wraps them around your waist, pressing you harder to him. “Jesus fucking Christ. Say it again.”
You lean your head back and kiss his jawline up towards his ear. “Master.”
“Steve, home. Now.”
“Ten steps ahead of you. Uber is on its way.”
############
Eddie struggled the entire ride home to keep his hands to himself and you didn’t make it easy for him, leaning against his shoulder as your hands roamed along his jeaned thigh. 
As soon as you three were behind closed doors, however, Sir promptly took over lifting you in his arms as you wrapped your own limbs around him, his lips touching anything on you they could. Steve followed you both, throwing himself on to the bed with his back against the headboard.
The metalhead placed you between the boy’s legs before sliding your shorts and panties down your legs as you threw your shirt on to the floor. 
“Harrington, would you mind helping me here?” Eddie lightly smacked your thigh and Steve took the hint, lifting your body upright and placing his feet on either side of your legs, prying them open to display you to his friend. 
“So fucking beautiful, sweetheart.” He tossed his shirt to the side as he laid directly in front of your core, his breath against it making your body tingle. You head fell back against Steve’s shoulder as his tongue licked a stripe through your folds. Eddie’s head pushed closer into you, his mouth tasting and sucking on every sweet part of your cunt. Your hand flew down to tangle in his wavy hair and he moaned at the feeling. 
“Fuck. Sir, that feels so good. Please don’t stop.” 
Steve’s nose grazed lazily along your neck as his lips hovered over your skin. He desperately wanted to touch you but he knew better. Daddy wasn’t in charge tonight. 
“I’m…I’m gonna…fuck…I’m gonna cum.”
Eddie abruptly pulled his tongue back, sitting up on his knees, and replacing his mouth with his fingers as he pumped them rapidly into you. 
“Are you asking me or telling me, little girl?” He was so close to you that his nose just barely touched your own. 
“Please, can I…can I cum?”
He smirks as he nods, your back arching into his touch as you came. Eddie’s pace didn’t slow as his thumb reached up to circle your clit.
“You said you liked the way I used my fingers when I play guitar?” You nodded as you whimpered, your forehead turning to rest on Steve’s cheek as your eyes squeeze shut. 
The metalhead chuckled as he watched a staggered breath escape his friend’s lips. “You doing alright over there, Daddy?”
“Daddy’s really hard right now. I…mmm…I can feel it.”
Eddie reached out with his free hand and gripped your cheeks. “Thanks for the update but I wasn’t asking you, was I?”
“No, Sir. I’m sorry.” 
“You can kiss her if you want to. Just not on the lips. I need her to answer me.”
Steve’s lips fell to your skin like a vampire as he began sucking and biting at your flesh. 
“Look at me, baby.” His hand snaked around to the back of your neck as he pressed his forehead to yours. As soon as your eyes opened to meet his brown ones, you felt your body begin to shake. “Hey, no, no. Not yet.”
You whined as his fingers stilled inside of you, pulling you back from the edge. “You said I took control of the guitar like I control you. Is that right?”
“Yes…yes, Sir. Please…”
“What else did you say, little one? Come on, baby. Tell me and I’ll let you cum.”
“You’re the master of your guitar.” Your voice trembled with need and he craned his neck to place a delicate kiss on your lips as his thumb began pressing into your bundle of nerves again. 
“Good girl, princess. So if me playing reminds you of when we play…” Eddie grins as he sees a smile spread across your face. You know exactly where he’s leading you. “And I’m the master of my guitar. What does that make me to you?”
Steve had stopped kissing you to watch you two talk with each other. When they first met you Eddie had said the way Steve spoke during sex got him “hot and bothered” but over the past few months and especially right now, HE was getting HIM going. The way Eddie’s tone would change and the things he would say, it was very different than how he had been when they had been with other partners in the past. 
He hung on to your breathing as he waited for you to answer. Steve felt himself get harder at the thought of being able to show his friend how much he appreciated him and how far Eddie had come as well when it came to being more comfortable. 
You coyly bit your bottom lip as you moved your face closer to his. “You’re definitely the Master of me, Eddie Munson.”
He pulled your lips to his as he thrust his fingers into you again, the obscene sound of your slick filling the room. You moaned as you reached out to cling to his body. 
“Fuck! Can I cum, Sir? Please, please, please!”
“Ask me again with that other title. No”, he leaned closer to you till his lips were close to your ear. “Beg the master of your body and pussy to cum.”
“Oh my god… Please, Master. Please let me cum. Please…”, the tears started to flow as you continued to plead with him. As soon as he granted you permission, your body shook as you came hard clenching around his fingers. 
Eddie softly smiled as he kissed your cheek. “You did so well, sweetheart. My good girl. What color are we at, beautiful?”
“Ye-yel-yellow.”, you panted. “I need a minute.”
“Of course. Do you need anything? Water?”
You giggle as you kiss his lips before curling your body into Steve’s chest. “No, Sir. Thank you for asking.”
“What about you, Harrington?”
“Huh? Oh, green. I’m ok.”
Eddie laughs as he reaches up to push some of Steve’s hair out of his eyes. “I’m starting to think it IS me. Come back to us, Daddy. We aren’t done yet.” The man smirks as he rests his chin against you. “So, my understanding is that you wanted to fuck me?”
“We were thinking we both could.”, you beam up at him with glassy eyes. 
“Baby”, his hand lightly grips your chin. “Again, I didn’t ask you. I’m talking to Daddy. If I need to remind you one more time, I’m going to punish you. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“We’ve never done that, you know. Outside of a film set.”
“Maybe now I’ll get to hear what you really sound like.”, Steve teases. 
“I’m ready now, Sir.” You turn to place feathery kisses along the other man’s cheek. “Do you want me to help you?”, you ask as you reach behind you and place your palm against length. 
His hand immediately and almost roughly grips your wrist. “No. No. Honestly, if you do that, I’m going to ruin the moment by cumming to early.”
“Why is that a problem? I’m sure we can get you going again.”
Steve eyes narrow at Eddie causing him to tilt his head to the side in amusement. “Because I want to cum inside you.”
The metalheads eyes darken as he gestures for you to move and you do so without being told twice. “Did you just give me attitude?”
The boys jaw tightens as he defiantly glares at Eddie.
This is new. Who…who’s in control?
Steve flinches slightly as Eddie’s hand reaches out grip his neck. “Put Daddy away, Steve. I’M in control tonight. Who’s in control?”
He doesn’t answer but you see his chest rise and fall heavily as they stare each other down. 
“Steve?” You scoot closer to him, careful not touch either of them. “Color, baby?”
“Green.” His tone still sounds gruff and Eddie hears it to. 
“Who. Is. In. Control?”, he asks again much more sternly than before. “You see, baby girl. Stevie here isn’t exactly a switch so he struggles to let go and get into that headspace like you do. But see, I thought tonight was about me and he wanted to play by my rules. That being the case”, his fingers press tighter onto the boy’s throat. “I’ve already asked the same question twice and I’m growing impatient. If I have to ask again, I’ll handcuff you to a chair so you can watch her and I have all the fun.”
“You both may be similar but she still submits…”
Steve pouts as he breaks eye contact with him to look over at you. You were sitting beside them on your knees with your hands in your lap. Your eyes were focused on him and he could see the lust within them but when he noticed that hint of concern, he sighed. 
“You are…Sir.”
Eddie loosens his hold on the man in front of him, gliding his hand to his chin, turning him to face him again. “I am what?”
“You’re in control.” The metalhead’s lips descended on his as Steve’s palm reached up to his cheek to pull him closer. “I’m sorry.”, he whispered.
He softly nodded with a smirk as he playfully pushed his face to the side to focus back on you. Eddie’s grin grew as he encircled you in his arms, bringing you closer to his chest as he kissed your lips. 
You smiled as he tossed you on to your stomach before placing himself on top of your back making you giggle. You mewled as his tongue darted out against your skin, tracing from your neck, down your spine, and along your sides. 
“Jesus, sweetheart, every part of your tastes so delicious and sweet.” Eddie’s palms slide under your hips, lifting you so your ass was in the air and displayed for him. You hear the sound of Steve moving around the room followed by a bottle being opened.
You moan as Eddie runs the tip of his cock between your soaking folds before gradually sheathing himself inside of your entrance. After a few slow pumps, his arms wrap under you again as his finger roam your body. The wind of his breath hits your ear as his stomach leans against your back.
“I love you so much, sweetheart. Fuck me. You feel so fucking good.” 
Your head turns to find his lips and he sloppily kiss you before abruptly stopping to lean his forehead against your shoulder. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Steve’s fingers grip Eddie as his groans of pleasure echo against the walls.
“God damn.”, the metalhead pants. You whimper as his cock does little thrusts inside of you every time Steve pumps into him, pushing him forward. 
“Please…please, Sir. Move.”
“Fuck, Y/N. I’m sorry. I’ve…we’ve never…is that what it feels like for you? Mmm—when we both take you?” Eddie began moving his waist, pressing back against the boy behind him and slamming into you hitting that sweet spot inside of you that had you shouting into the pillow beneath you. 
“No, baby. Don’t—mmm—don’t… I want to hear you scream. When you cum I want you…fuck… this feel so good. I can’t…”
As you push up on your hands, you reach back to run your fingers through his messy hair. “What…what do you want? Hm? What...do you need…to hear, Master?”
His mouth fell open as he silently moaned, thrusting into you so hard his bed began to shake.
“Yes, Master. Please! Can I…fuck!” 
Eddie grabbed your hair and pulled you to your knees against his chest, growling permission in your ear. You screamed and moaned as you came, your pussy clenching tightly around the boy inside of you. Collapsing on to the bed, he followed you down as he chased his own high.
“Thank you, Master. Thank you so fucking much.”
Your eyes fluttered closed as you heard them both grunt as Steve asked for permission to cum. As soon as Eddie granted it, the man cursed as he came and the other boy followed immediately after thrusting his seed into your cunt before pulling out and falling to your side. 
The feeling of sweaty flesh incased you and you opened your eyes to see Steve falling limp on top of you as he rested his head on your chest under your chin. You couldn’t help but giggle as you lazily played with his hair. 
“Hey. Come on now. Shower then you two can crash.” Eddie smiles as he leans over and pokes you both, making sure you’re still awake. “I’ll go get it ready.”
“Steve?” He answered with lazy hm as you looked towards the bathroom to make sure the other boy was out of ear shot. “What happened earlier?”
“What do you mean, honey?”
“When Eddie told you to put Daddy away…” Steve slowly leaned up his elbows when he heard the concern return. “Was it just…the dominate struggling to let go?”
“Shower’s ready.”
Steve kissed your forehead as he slid off of you and lifted you into his arms. After everyone was clean and dried off, he picked you up again, and placed you on his lap as he sat on the edge of the bed. 
“Yes. Sometimes…  if I’m being told what to do I shut down. The alcohol doesn’t help.”, he chuckles. “Eddie knows. We’ve talked about this a lot since we started seeing you.” 
You glance towards Eddie, who smiles at you as he slides on his boxers and continues running a towel through his damp hair. “We’re still in charge. We prefer that and like he said I’m not really a switch but I like trying new things especially with you.”
“Okay. I just…I don’t want you making yourself uncomfortable for me.”
“I wasn’t uncomfortable. Eddie knew that. Right, dude?”
“That is correct.” He tosses the towel to the floor before jumping onto the bed next to you both. “You know how some nights you need that extra little push to get into that headspace? Same thing, more or less.”
You kiss his cheek and twirl around him, off his lap, and on to the bed. Eddie crawls in behind you, pulling the covers over both as he wraps his arm around you and holds your hand. 
“Thank you for today.”, he whispers. “I had a lot of fun.”
“You’re welcome, Mr. Munson.” You twist your neck and give him a soft kiss causing him to smile lovingly down at you. Steve turns off the light, getting under the covers as well as he gazes as you both. His fingers reach out to caress your cheek as you release a happy exhale. 
“I hope you two know that I do recognize how much you guys appreciate me. There isn’t one day that goes by that I feel… left out or anything like that. I love you both especially you, princess.”
When you don’t answer, Eddie tilts your head to realize you fell asleep. He laughs as Steve winks at him, snuggling up closer to you before they both drift off to sleep with you. 
############
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singingintheshower48 · 2 years ago
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Drabble Challenge Day 2/30
This one is slightly cheating since they don’t actually cuddle until the last sentence, but I make the rules here so I’m going with it. Also I learned how to put in a cut in the fancy new post editor so that’s cool
Read the first day here.
Prompt: Cuddling
Wangxian, Canon-verse (post canon), 873 words, G
Lan Zhan had tried to warn him. He’d been nudging him since early afternoon, in that gentle way of his, and Wei Wuxian had brushed each inquiry, each soft reminder away with flippant words. 
We just had breakfast not long ago, Er-Gege.
My doting husband, always so needlessly worried about me!
I couldn’t possibly rest before we feed the rabbits.
Wei Wuxian really had always been terrible at knowing what was good for him. And at quitting while he was ahead. It wasn’t his fault, really. How could one have time to worry about silly things like food and rest when there was a whole wide world of possibilities and adventures to explore? Especially when one’s husband was so delightfully handsome and skilled and willing to go along with (almost) all of one’s wildest ideas? 
Wei Wuxian chattered on as he pulled his husband by the arm up to the Jingshi– about the rabbits, about the low-level gui they’d taken care of that morning, about a place in the back mountains he’d found recently for them to go later. He only released Lan Zhan when they got to the steps of their shared home, letting go of his arm to sprint up the steps and fling the door open.
“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan called from behind him. “I’ll have some food brought from the kitchen. It would be good to rest.”
“Do not wallow in luxury and pleasure, Hanguang-Jun,” he recited, wagging a teasing finger. “We can’t waste the day away inside! Besides, what would your dear rabbits do without–oh.”
He’d spun on his heel, but when he’d stopped the world had not stopped spinning around him. Pops of color floated in front of his eyes, and he staggered forward half a step before two strong arms reached out to stead him.
“Maintain balance in all things,” Lan Zhan quoted back, winding an arm around Wei Wuxian’s waist to pull him back against his chest, his other hand coming up to squeeze at Wei Wuxian’s upper arm, soft but firm. “Come sit.”
“Aiyah, Lan Zhan, there’s no need for this,” Wei Wuxian protested, letting himself be led over to the low table where they took their meals. When had his legs become shaky? He sighed as Lan Zhan pushed him down by the shoulders, gentle but leaving no room for argument. He really was quite tired all of a sudden. Perhaps his husband had been onto something. 
“Stay here,” Lan Zhan ordered, stern even as he brushed his fingers lightly over Wei Wuxian’s forehead.
“Yes, yes,” he panted. “You win. I’ll stay put.” 
Lan Zhan gave him one more look over before nodding briefly to himself, apparently satisfied that Wei Wuxian wasn’t going to run off and pass out somewhere alone in the woods surrounding Cloud Recesses. He slid the door open behind him, leaving Wei Wuxian to breath until the colored spots faded from his vision. His stomach rumbled loudly.
“Fool,” he grumbled to himself. “You went and ran around through lunch time. Now you’ll have to eat cold, bland Lan vegetables for lunch.” 
Lan Zhan returned shortly thereafter, placing a tray of steaming soup in front of him, the aroma of pork ribs and spices filling his nose and causing another loud growl to erupt from his stomach.
“My husband is too good to me,” he sighed, picking up a spoon as Lan Zhan settled in beside him. 
“Only as good as you deserve,” Lan Zhan said, reaching for the pot of tea and pouring them two cups. Wei Wuxian squawked at that, his face heating. He busied himself with shoving a large chunk of lotus root into his mouth. 
They finished lunch quietly, Wei Wuxian content to sit and feed himself peacefully, Lan Zhan enjoying the rare silence and watching him carefully. When he’d had his fill Wei Wuxian stretched with a contended groan, leaning against his husband’s shoulder.
“You were right,” he admitted with a huff. “We should have stopped for lunch sooner.”
“Mn.”
“I just– you always worry about me so much, you know? I thought you were being overprotective. My core is already much stronger than when I came back.”
“You must give it time,” Lan Zhan reminded him, tucking a strand of hair that had escaped his ponytail behind his ear, long, warm fingers sliding to cup his face and brush over the swell of his cheek after their job was done. Wei Wuxian nuzzled into it with a happy sigh. “You cannot expect to know a new body as well as your first after such a short time.”
“Right as always, noble and wise Hanguang-Jun,” he said, a yawn overtaking the end of his sentence. “Lan Zhan?”
“Mn?”
“I have just one more thing I want to do today.”
“What is it?”
“Take a nap while you hold me,” Wei Wuxian said, fluttering his eyelashes up at Lan Zhan playfully. “Will you carry me, strong Er-Gege?” 
A delighted squeal filled the Jingshi as Lan Zhan hoisted him up in his arms, walking smoothly over to the bed as if Wei Wuxian weighed nothing at all. Wei Wuxian grinned up at his husband as they settled into bed, content to spend eternity wrapped in his arms.
--
Reference for Lan Principles; the first one is from the list, the second one I made up, hopefully it fits with the rest!
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lnlywar-god · 3 years ago
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COMRADE MY DEAR i hope you're having the best day/night possible! Once more, congrats on the followers! You deserve them all and even more!!! 💞
For the event, can I get a hot grande toasted white chocolate mocha for Zhongli? If you don't feel comfortable writing him, I'm fine with any ither character! Take care, beloved comrade! 💞💗
(I hope i did this right djdnjd)
COMRADE! hello hello! i am, thank you! and thank you for the congrats as well! i'll always be comfortable writing for zhongli, hehe. i swear there's not a self indulgent copy of this sitting in my google docs, favorited for me to look at every time
also you did it right, dw!
ONE HOT GRANDE TOASTED WHITE CHOCOLATE MOCHA (ZHONGLI) for nicebonescomrade !
wc : 1.2k
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It’s easy to forget that you need a break. You need to give yourself rest. It’s easy to just get used to a lifestyle that you don’t even notice you’re suddenly falling apart with it.
Sometimes you forget that this place you’re in isn’t always going to feel like home.
And whenever that time comes, Zhongli’s there to pick you up.
Ever since you’ve arrived in Teyvat, it’s been full of twists and turns and adjustments in your lifestyle. You barely had to work anymore, you were rarely upsetted by anyone and everyone here was at your command.
Adjustment doesn’t happen in just one snap or one blink of the eye, or overnight or even in plenty of days. We all have different paces of adjusting, but to master something is a whole other concept.
Zhongli is, as said by Venti, a blockhead. That which he is most times, but he isn’t a fool. He learns better than most people from their mistakes and acts on them.
You don’t get upset when you’re feeling confused about something, you just go blank.
It’s noticeable by your lack of energy to want to go explore Teyvat like you’d wanted to when you first came. Everyone merely brushes it off and leaves you be.
All except Zhongli.
He’s observant enough, with what he’s learned from Guizhong, maybe he can learn to be gentle and not the war-hardened god he is towards his own god.
Comfort will come in several versions depending on Zhongli thinks you’re feigning discomfort in. When push comes to shove and somehow Zhongli finds himself unable to provide comfort to solve the empty look on your face, he offers his own comfort.
Maybe it’ll help not only you, but him too.
He’d feel relieved if you accept his comfort, knowing that it would mean that you accept him and you both find yourself having aligned views, enjoying the things he enjoys too. Isn’t it wonderful to have your god on your side?
The association theory is a popular psychological concept. It’s creating a connection between stimuli and response.
When you associate being happy with the little gifts Zhongli gives you, the quiet words of comfort and assurance he’ll breath into your ears, you find all those worming into your life and creating a black hole within you, just begging to devour more of it.
Who is Zhongli to deny what you want?
He doesn’t just oblige to your want of comfort, he goes beyond and provides more than expected.
It’s easier to adapt to something if you have something familiar to base yourself of with.
Zhongli does his best to associate things in Teyvat with things you like back in your world.
You like plush toys? Feast your eyes on the slimes, your new plush toys!
You’re reminded of food you had in your world while you’re eating at Wanmin? It’s always going to be available for as long as you want it.
Associating things in Teyvat to things that make you happy might help you get more comfortable to be around in Teyvat, Zhongli figures.
As soon as Zhongli had learned about such concept from Yanfei, he immediately put it to use, but not without gathering some information to develop a strategy on approaching the situation. Hence, the reason you’re holding a casual conversation with him right now over some tea and pancakes.
Could you expect any less from the ever-so efficient Zhongli?
He’s also given himself another opportunity to find any other causes of your discomfort through talking it out with you, and he can solve all those problems in just one snap of his hand.
“Things I cherished most from my world, huh.” He silently sips his tea, gazing at you and waiting patiently for your answer.
The answer isn’t given to him directly. It usually came with little anecdotes or explanations as to why you cherished them. He was especially happy to listen to them, as it came to be comforting to him to get to know you better and not just as his god.
After endless hours of chatting and exchanging stories and memories, Zhongli insisted you retire and head to sleep. You agreed, albeit reluctantly. Zhongli was happy to see that. Step 1 of operation : bring comfort to you was set in place!
That night was a night of nearly no rest for him. It didn’t bother him much as his drive to carry out his plan was well enough to keep him awake.
Preparations were immediately made, and Zhongli had felt inclined to do it by himself. It would grant him more appreciation as being the sole initiator of the plan, and you’d certainly applaud and reward his efforts for it, subconsciously or unconsciously.
He stops himself there.
He must really be foolish then.
As much as he’d like to hog the glory for himself, he realizes he can’t possibly do everything by himself.
Sure, he could learn in a matter of time, but was there really time? This could probably spiral out of his hands and he wouldn’t be able to do anything about it! He makes haste and immediately gathers resources and the people he can work with to make it happen.
While you’re out being entertained by the children and by the others, Zhongli has instructed Noelle and Xiangling to work on a feast with foods similar to the one’s you’ve told him from your world. Albedo is currently working on to grow some flowers that would be similar to your favorite, and let’s say Venti’s learning some new tunes.
Needless to say, they all happily took up the offer and got to it without another word (except for Venti, who teased his old friend, just a lil bit). Zhongli was overjoyed at the progress that they were making, but he reserves himself, and imagines that he’d be even more overjoyed if he sees that silly smile on your face and hears that blissful laugh you give out whenever you’re overjoyed.
While everyone’s busy creating the props to this show, Zhongli sets the stage, the children being a distraction going according to plan.
Zhongli is meticulous, perfecting everything to the last detail of your recollection to him, hoping that whatever he’s visualizing from your words would be, at least, reminiscent of what you had in mind.
What a grand show, this’ll be, he thinks.
Even if it wasn’t completely like what you had in mind when you shared your stories to him, you couldn’t deny, the garden he’d just renovated in your teapot was absolutely grandiose.
A mixture of Qingxin and cherry blossoms (courtesy of Yae and Ei), it was quite a sight. It definitely would ease your nerves, not having such a bright color and being more on the muted side of shades.
Zhongli felt himself hold his breath.
It was nearly time for you to return to the teapot.
Noelle and Xiangling had already completed their missions, and Venti was already in position, ready to greet you with a song, he’d done everything properly and not a single hair/petal was out of place.
When you’re guided into a garden and your face erupts into the most precious smile Zhongli has ever seen out of you, Zhongli feels the air kicked out of his lungs and he’s trying to hold back the funnily large grin about to erupt on his face.
Archons, he’d be on his deathbed any moment when you were around, but to no one’s surprise, he’d gladly die there any day, reassured that you’re comfortable and happy right where you are.
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quindolyn · 4 years ago
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hi can i request the maurauders going to see the reader do a musical like heathers or mean girls and they are just confused and turned on bc they didn't expect it to be this dirty (can lead to smut or not). luv you and hope you are taking care of yourself, if not go get something to eat, drink some water, take a nap, or do somthing you enjoy. or dont not trying to be pushy :)
Creature of the Night || Poly!Marauders
Word Count: 3029 (excluding song lyrics)
A/N: I think I liked how this turned out? I didn’t make it smut but it’s certainly suggestive, I went with Rocky Horror, I know that the musicals mentioned in the request are more modern but I fucking love Rocky Horror and I think it works with the request. When I first read this request I smiled so much because I love live theater, I don’t perform as much as I used to because as I progress with my education I’m focusing more on the stuff I can use to pad my resumes for college and stuff but I still love going to see productions. One of the worst parts of the pandemic for me has been not being able to go see shows, I miss it so much.
Warnings: theatre enthusiast reader, erections, suggestive material, song lyrics, slight teasing, wearing very little clothing in front of an audience, I believe that that is it
Masterlist
500 follower celebration
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antici-
The magic of the stage was second to none. Sure, Hogwarts may have had witches and wizards, subjects like Transfiguration and Defense Against the Dark Arts, and ghosts that spent their time meandering about the halls but there was always a part of you that looked forward to the summer between your years at Hogwarts. Because no matter how magical Hogwarts was, the theater always made you feel completely and utterly alive. 
Every summer since the one after your first year at what all of your muggle friends thought to be a very prestigious boarding school up in Scotland, you’d taken part in your local youth theater’s productions. Your parents both being muggles thought that it would be a great way for you to be able to stay in touch with your muggle origins. 
The first year you’d been far too nervous to actually audition for a role, the very thought causing bile to churn in your stomach and threaten to make you sick all over your kitchen floor when your father first pitched the idea. So instead you’d done costumes and it was the most wonderful experience of your life. 
Who needed drugs when you had live theater? The hustle and bustle behind the scenes was electrifying but after two summers of costuming, of quick changes in the wings, learning how to use the ancient sewing machines they stored in the depths of the storage rooms, and pulling pieces for the actors to try on you decided that you wanted to try something more.
The moment you had stepped onto the stage it was like you’d come to life and you cursed yourself for not taking the risk earlier. You belonged on the stage, with the harsh stage lights on you and pounds of makeup plastered onto your face you could feel the magic thrumming through your veins and it was addicting.
If it was possible, you were even more excited to perform this summer, the previous school year you’d finally gotten together with your long time best friends the Marauders, turning them from friends to your boyfriends.
When your mother had sent word of the production being put on this summer you’d squealed while seated next to James and across from Remus, who had Sirius hanging off of his side. After explaining to them, mostly Sirius and James really, just what live theater was their first reaction was to ask if they could come see you perform.
“I don’t even know if I’m going to be cast,” You had explained gently, not wanting to get their hopes up in case you weren’t cast this year.
“Bull shit of course you’re going to be the cast,” Sirius had contested through a mouthful of jam and toast, waving his hand theatrically through the air, watching him that day was not the first time you’d considered how the way he acted often reminded you of an over enthusiastic theatre major.
Remus, the only one with any knowledge on muggle theatre had snorted, wrapping an arm around Sirius’ waist to pull him closer to his body, “She’s not going to be the cast Pads, she’s going to be casted,” He’d corrected gently, pressing a kiss into his long, dark tresses.
“Whatever,” The smaller boy had grumbled, taking a sip of pumpkin juice.
Which brought you to where you were right now, five minutes to curtain touching up your make up in the mirror of the shared make-up room.
“Hey (L/N),” One of your cast mates called settling into the makeup chair next to you as she plucked a tube of dark red lipstick from the small canary colored makeup bag she had previously abandoned on the counter, “Your boyfriends coming tonight?” She asked, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.
“Yeah, they are,” You responded, applying mascara to your lashes.
“Excited to meet them, that photo you showed us,” She smiled, fanning her face with her hand, “Smoking,” She smiled, making eye contact with you in the mirror.
Rolling your eyes you ignored her comment, “It’s five minutes to curtain, you’re just now doing your make-up?” You chuckled, noticing her black face.
“Oh, shove it,” She laughed as you pushed yourself from your chair, traipsing out of the room, giving her the middle finger on your way out.
“Break a leg!” She called after you as the door latched shut.
You weren’t usually this nervous before a performance but knowing that your three boyfriends were sitting out there somewhere in the audience had you pacing back and forth backstage wondering what they were going to think of the whole production.
“Rocky Horror?” Sirius’ confusion evident in his voice as he plopped down in his seat next to Remus, throwing his arm around the werewolf’s shoulders, drumming his fingers on his clothed shoulder hidden behind his knitted cardigan.
“Yeah,” James collapsed into his chair on the other side of Remus, tucking one leg under his body, “No clue what it’s about but I’m sure our angel will be wonderful. Can you guys see her?” He straightened himself up in his seat, craning his neck in attempts to catch a glimpse of you.
Remus being the only one with any ties to the muggle world knew a bit about the show and had to do his very best to suppress a smirk from overtaking his face as he knew exactly what he and your other two boyfriends were getting themselves into. 
“Just hush up you two, the show’s gonna start any moment,” He scolded, patting his large, scarred hand on James’ thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze.
“Rem,” Sirius whined, puckering his lips and closing his eyes, signaling to his boyfriend that he wanted a kiss.
“My needy baby,” He crooned, leaning in to connect his lips with Sirius’ in a quick liplock before pulling back, allowing Sirius to drop his forehead to smear against his shoulder.
“That’s mean,” Sirius murmured discontentedly.
“Poor baby Pads,” James cooed mockingly.
“Both of you,” Remus hissed as the lights in the theatre dimmed, “The show’s about to start, be good for me and be quiet yeah?”
Their response came in their silence as the crowd started settling down and the music from the orchestra pit began a voice coming from somewhere out of sight as it was played through the speakers,
“Michael Rennie was ill
The day the earth stood still
But he told us where we stand”
Not 20 minutes into the show all three of them were as hard as rocks, James had already made Remus check the playbill for the name of the character you were playing, not being able to remember what you’d told them as all of his concentration was focused on a certain place.
Janet Weiss.
Remus couldn’t remember either, but he was almost certain that’s the name he could make out in the dark theatre, printed next to a picture of your smiling face.
When you’d stripped down to your underwear the boys could barely focus on the plot line of the show, only being able to watch the way your bare skin shone under the harsh light of the spotlights. Watching as sweat glistened on your skin, making you shine as you moved about the stage. 
Enchanted by the melodic cadence of your voice they all felt a certain jealousy burning deep in the pits on their stomachs at the thought that there were dozens of other people packed into that theater, all observing you in your vulnerable state of under dress. Only they got to see you like that.
Sirius missed much of the first act glaring at members of the audience who he deemed as looking at you for too long for his liking, but if you were being honest a 4th year smiling at you in the hallway was sometimes too long for his liking.
It wasn’t like any of them had never seen you naked before, in fact they’d all seen you naked more than their fair share of times but something about you on that stage in a white bra with a matching slip was driving them all crazy.
Especially Remus, whose ultimate weakness was seeing you in anything white which was one of the reasons you’d been so excited to invite them in the first place, knowing that they would be horny messes the entire time.
On stage you did your very best not to look out into the audience looking for them, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to stop a ginormous grin from forming on your face and you couldn’t afford to break character. Not if you wanted the night to go your way.
As the opening notes to “Touch-A, Touch-A, Touch Me”, rose from the orchestra pit you had trouble stopping a small smirk from pulling at your lips as you opened them, inhaling deeply before singing the first words of the song,
“I was feeling done in, couldn't win
I'd only ever kissed before”
Despite yourself you caught a glimpse of long dark hair in the audience, quickly taking a glance at Sirius’ face, eyes glazed over in lust, legs shifting uncomfortably with his mouth hanging wide open. 
Out of the corner of your eye you noticed another raven-haired boy’s mouth dropping as you shrugged off of your robe
“I thought there’s no use getting, into heavy petting
It only leads to trouble and, seat wetting
Now all I want to know, is how to go
I've tasted blood and I want more”
It was impossible to miss the way Remus’ jaw clenched as you laid your palm against Rocky’s chest, he was being played by your good friends who’d been working with the same theatre company as you since forever, he was like a brother to you. But that didn’t mean you couldn’t lay it on extra thick tonight with your boyfriends in the audience.
Tracing a dainty finger down Rocky’s chest you pushed your body against his singing out the next lyrics of the song,
“I've got an itch to scratch, I need assistance”
You turned you and your cast mate so that looking over his shoulder you were able to meet Remus’ eye, sending him a quick wink before focusing back in on Rocky.
“Toucha, toucha, toucha, touch me
I wanna be dirty
Thrill me, chill me, fulfill me
Creature of the night”
Pressing your back up against Rocky’s chest you guided his hands with yours to your breasts, squeezing them as you followed the choreography you knew by heart.
You ripped your slip from your body with the help of Rocky leaving you in only your white bra, matching panties and a pair of small heels as you paraded around stage, belting the suggestive lyrics into the theater.
“Then if anything grows, while you pose
I'll oil you up and rub you down (down, down, down)
And that’s just one small fraction, of the main attraction
You need a friendly hand, oh i need action”
You smirked, thinking about all of the action you’d be on the receiving end of later that night as you sunk to your knees in front of Rocky, your hands grasping his thighs. Deciding to tease them perhaps a little more than necessary as you went through the number, curling your leg around his and pressing your bodies together so that there was no space between your two questionably clothed bodies.
As the number was brought to a close it was impossible for you to ignore the excitement bubbling up inside of you as you continued your way through the show you kept throwing glances at your boyfriends, always finding their eyes already trained on you. More often than not, on some body part other than your face.
If your boyfriends thought that they had a bit of a problem before that song they were in a terrible predicament now.
Remus caught Sirius on multiple occasions trying to move the hand that he was holding to grope at his crotch as he tried to buck up into his boyfriend’s hand. And much to his own dismay, Remus would pull his hand away, thinking it probably wasn’t the best idea to give his boyfriend a hand job in a crowded theater. Knowing that he wouldn’t have to worry about James touching himself because he would never dream of disobeying him, Remus divided his attention between you on the stage and keeping Sirius in check.
Each of the boys were counting down the seconds until the show came to an end and they could get out of there and relieve some of their tension.  As the curtains were pulled closed they all breathed a sigh of relief before they reopened, leaving all three of them bewildered and slightly annoyed, even more so when they noticed everyone around them standing as they applauded the actors.
Remus forced both of them up when you rushed to the front of the stage, curtsying as the crowd went wild, your boyfriends most notably. As you took your bow you blew a kiss to your boyfriends taking note of the uncomfortable way they all stood, trying to adjust their erections to make them less noticeable while simultaneously applauding you.
As you cleared the stage after curtain call you took your time, doddling towards the dressing rooms where you had left the clothes you’d arrived at the theater in along with a special outfit you’d brought for after the show. Usually you were one of the first actors to clear the theater after a show but tonight you took your time. Hanging up your costume with more care than anyone really should treat any garment with and certainly more than what it needed. 
You smirked mischievously as you pulled the you’d brought outfit from your bag and shimmied it up your legs before slipping the delicate straps up your shoulders. You glimpsed yourself in the mirror, the red satin of the dress clinging to your curves in an attractive manner, short enough to display miles of legs and low cut enough to show off a decent amount of cleavage and perhaps a sighting of the matching red bra you were wearing beneath it.
Slinging the back of your black heels over the heel of your feet you snatched your purse from the armchair in your dressing room before striding out to go meet your boyfriends in the lobby, where you’d told them to wait for you.
Their heads all turned as they heard the clacking of your heels against the tile of the floor, “Boys,” You greeted as they unabashedly took in your new appearance.
As he most often was, Remus was the first one to collect himself, “Puppy, you were wonderful,” He praised, walking to meet you as you approached him, leaning down to smear a kiss against your cheek, “You did amazing up there, so proud of you,” He threw his arm around your waist as you walked towards Sirius and James.
“We got something for you,” He explained, his grip on your waist tightening, “Jamie give it to her, yeah?” 
“Oh yeah,” The smaller boy grinned, remembering the bouquet he held cradled in his arms as he handed it over to you, “Here you go angel.”
“Thank you Jamie,” You said as you took it from him, closing your eyes as you buried your nose in the sweet smelling flora. As you opened your eyes you made eye contact with Sirius, who stood across from you, practically drooling as he took in your appearance without any shame, “They smell wonderful.”
“You okay Si?” You asked, looking up through your eyelashes, batting them innocently.
“Like you don’t know exactly what you did up there to us (Y/N/N),” Remus whispered in your ear, pressing his nose into your temple.
“You guys are the ones who wanted to come,” You lilted, rubbing one of the velvety petals between the pads of your thumb and forefinger.
“Could’ve warned us,” James mumbled, his eyes not leaving your thighs as he licked his lips, if it were anyone else you would’ve been uncomfortable but you couldn’t help but feel flattered whenever any of them ogled you. 
“And what’s with the dress Pup?” Sirius nodded his head appreciatively towards your dress, obviously admiring the way it hung on your body.
“What, you don’t like it?” You asked with fake hurt in your voice, knowing that he more than liked it, he fucking loved it. 
“S’not that,” Remus mumbled, nosing at your jugular, “Just that whole show, got us a little bit worked up. We didn’t expect it to be so sexual Puppy,” He nodded towards James and that’s when you noticed the erection he was still sporting. 
“Got us really worked up, can we go home now?” James asked, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, trying to distract himself from his little problem.
“Jamie,” You whined, smiling wickedly, “I wanted to celebrate, I was thinking we could go eat somewhere, I was thinking maybe Thai food?”
You watched as Sirius ground his teeth, conflicted between needing to get home and not wanting to deny you from what you wanted. 
“Having fun teasing us Bunny?” Remus asked you with a sly smirk, knowing exactly what you were doing.
“M’not teasing,” You insisted, turning indignantly to your other boyfriend.
“Sure you aren’t,” He chuckled, “Thai sounds great (Y/N), wanna talk with you about the show,” The idea of teasing Sirius and James even longer was very appealing to Remus and he was ready to make the sacrifice of being teased himself, knowing that he’d be able to get back at you later that night.
“But-” James began.
“You wanna argue with me Jamie?” Remus challenged, raising a singular eyebrow.
“No,” He moped, “Of course not.”
“Good,” Remus said, nodding his head approvingly, “We wouldn’t wanna deny our Princess would we?”
James shook his head, eyes pleading, desperately seeking Remus’ approval.
“Pads?” Remus challenged, turning his attention to the other raven haired man.
“What? Oh um, of course not,” He agreed distractedly, dragging his eyes from your form to meet Remus’, his reluctance evident in his voice.
“Good,” Remus said pointedly, his eyes cold, daring Sirius to question him. When he didn’t the werewolf continued, “Let’s get going then, there’s a nice little restaurant a couple blocks away yeah?”
As you all hummed your consent you made your way to the exit, “Ten galleons if you can make James cum in his pants at dinner,” Remus whispered in your ear quietly enough so that  James and Sirius trailing behind you wouldn’t be able to hear you, you could hear the smirk in his voice as you exited the theatre.
“Deal.” This was going to be fun, you considered that you might have to invite them to come see the show again.
-pation
tagging: @randomoutsiders @weasleyposts @kittykylax @amourtentiaa @superbturtlemakerathlete
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husbandohunter · 4 years ago
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Hey, I just found your blog through your adorable A Smaller Predicament headcanons. You’re an amazing writer and I was wondering if you could please do a version of that for Venti?
A Small(er) Predicament [Venti x Reader]
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Synopsis: When you have to deal with each other's quirkiness as either him as a child or you as a pocket-sized human being
(Two seperate scenarios of Smol Series 1 and 2)
(A/n): Awww you're too kind anon and Venti is such a good addition to this. He's already babie (just look at the art #protecc)
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Venti as a smol baby
The price for the Anemo Archon taking the form of a 12-year old boy had errupted some unique reprocussions after the potion effect: Rather than a young child with the capacity of walking at best, he reduced to something much much younger...a baby.
This meant that Venti will articulate the exact traits of an average one year old except he's more chaotic given his godly powers. It's because he's yet to learn his powers, if Klee could blow up the entirety of DragonSpine, then Barbatos would spin a tornado enough to flatten the mountains and plains altogether. You pray to god when he happens to sneeze (until you realize he is the god). Time to duck under the table, every item would fly off their tables and snot would be coming down his nose...which you have to wipe now (yuck!)
No matter what form he takes, Venti is still the same troublemaking, free-spirited to a fault and mischevious bard. The type to cry at least three times during sleeping hours and you wake up the next day completely deprived of energy. He's a messy eater as well as a picky eater. Food would constantly be stained around his face to the point you feel uncomfortable looking at him. Oh and if you ever try feeding him meals that he dislikes, Venti will either dodge your spoon or blow it away that it splashes all over your shirt.
Does. not. drink. milk. You fight to shove the bottle into his mouth which ends up with him crying a ear-splitting scream. It's almost embarassing trying to feed him in public. Because what Venti wants is not milk, he wants wine. WINE. You knew because "wine" was his first word. The amount of stress he gives you almost wants to make you cry too. So you often had to bring him to the Cathedral and ask the sisters to help instead. Turns out singing songs helps him calm down alot.
However when there are times where Venti is behaving, he's an absolute cutie. He laughs alot, a bubbly and gurgly giggle where you can almost hear his signature "Ehe" except now its an "Eehee". For some reason, Venti loves to bite. He will take a strand of your hair and put it in his mouth. If you bring him close to your face, he'll lean in and chomp your cheek. You're not sure why but that's just his way of showing affection. Most of the time he may stink as a baby, but after a good shower he smells like the fresh minty wind that had blown through the whispering woods.
Once he turns back to his normal self, Venti acts like nothing much happened. Doesn't even apologize for all the trouble he committed. He just says "That was fun!"
When you turn pocket-sized
Boy oh boy you two are going to have lots of fun together ehe ^_^ But don't worry. Venti has no malicious intent. Just his mischeivious tricks like usual. It's like having his own verison of Paimon! Oh, you can't fly? That can be fixed. He crafts you a mini wind-glider when actually it's a cheap folded paper airplane he made in just ten seconds, sticks you on it using tape before using his powers to generate a wind current. You were screaming for your life.
But it doesn't stop there. With you brand new powers, you guys can now be partners in crime! Big and small. As he distracts the staff at the Dawn Winery, you can sneak into the cart and push the apples down into his bag. Or what about sneaking underneath the door to unlock the cathedrals cell where all of the wine stash is hidden?
"No? *sigh* such a shame. We could have been really great partners. A fantastic duo hehe! But you know, now that I'm looking at how small you are, this kinda reminds me of...nevermind. Where shall we be off to next?"
He lets you slip underneath his beret hat. Despite being the wind god, it never falls off. Whenever you shift and push out from the edges of his hat to take a peek outside, Venti can feel your knees digging into his head. Although the feeling can be a bit nagging sometimes and that he has to get used to, at least he has someone to scratch for him whenever he feels itchy!
Whenever you need help climbing on top of furniture, sometimes you'll feel a gentle boost ghosting in the air. Even when Venti isn't around, he keeps in mind to help you navigate your surroundings whenever you need to. Also considering that he's so short himself, sometimes he'll lift you to the top shelves to get something for him.
When you turn back, he says he's going to miss the times where you're flying around in a tiny form. It brings him a sense of deja-vu. Regardless, Venti makes sure to implement this into his songs and stories, a tale of two figures of different sizes ready for adventure!
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solomonish · 4 years ago
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Way To Go MC, You’ve Allowed Yourself to be Poisoned (Demon Brothers)
CW for: descriptions of food and eating, brief descriptions of choking-like symptoms. (mainly in the intro, though the individual stories mention coughing, (light) blood and fainting). there will be talk of food and keeping an eye on what is being eaten in the individual character stories as well.
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Ahh thank you nonnie! I got tired and stopped at the demon brothers but I’ll finish the nowdateables later if you want! Which let’s be real, I’ll probably do soon because I wanna write for Solomon lol
I hope you like it!
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It started off like any other night, with you grabbing a seat at the dinner table as the last of the food was placed in the middle. Someone beside you took your plate and gave you your portion for you, smiling at your murmur of thanks as they set it down. You waited until the last person, Levi, sat down, smiling at him as he muttered something about finishing a level to nobody in particular. 
The moment you ate your first bite of food, something felt...off. Your tongue was tingling the slightest bit and you swore you could feel an uncomfortable heat follow the food as it slid down your throat. Thinking it was just a weird Devildom spice - after all, you’ve been here for how long? and nothing has happened yet? - you take another bite and immediately regret it.
Though such a food was no big deal for demons, it was powerful enough to knock you out of your chair and hunch over, grabbing your stomach as you cough forcefully in a desperate attempt to get the food out. Your insides were burning, your airways closing in and your chest crying out in pain the more you coughed. Soon enough, tears clouded your vision, and though you could hear the chaos around you, the only thing you could focus on was what felt like fire burning you from the inside out.
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When you start coughing:
The moment you let out a little cough, his eyes are on you curiously. It’s just a remnant of the days when you were still so new to it all: the fragile little human makes a strange noise, be prepared to save a life.
He almost let his eyes fall from you, but he noticed that you weren’t stopping. It wasn’t the first time you had caused a scene at dinner, saying something afterwards about it “going down the wrong tube.” Still, this seemed...different.
When you fall off of your chair, he’s out of his before you even hit the ground. He’s kneeling by your side a second later, trying to tilt your head towards him so he can fully understand what is happening.
He finally realizes that you aren’t just choking and this is much more urgent when the blood starts coming out of your mouth.
He takes his attention away from you for a moment to ask who cooked dinner, and the brothers promptly rat out Mammon.
Though Lucifer is clearly agitated at that, he decides to lecture later and instead ask what Mammon put in the dish. Everyone erupts at once about halfway through because “How could you have forgotten what that will do to a human??”
That’s the last thing you remember for yourself - whether from the poison itself or being unable to breath through all your coughing, you passed out fairly quickly afterwards
Taking care of you afterwards:
Lucifer isn’t the type to panic in the moment. He’s very accustomed to taking the lead and having everything under control.
That’s in the moment, though. When he has Satan mix up the remedial potion, he’s fine, checking over you and keeping his brothers a safe distance away while he makes sure you’re still breathing. Once you’re safely in bed, brothers having been banned from your room until at least morning, and he’s the only one left lingering in the doorway, that’s when it all begins to set in.
There’s less regret and more general uncertainty in these moments - it starts with him wondering if he should really leave you alone, and soon enough it spirals into him reminding himself just how careful he needs to be with you in the Devildom. (And really, after taking charge of seven demon lords on accident, isn’t it just like you to get killed by a spicy leaf? Honestly, he should’ve known better.)
Once you finally do wake up, he tries to act like his normal “down to business” self - “I’ve told my brothers they are not to overwhelm you today, though we both know how that will go. I’ve made Leviathan figure out what bland foods are safe for humans, you’ll have to take it easy for now as your stomach is still irritated. Let me know immediately if you feel woozy or nauseous for any reason-” He prattles on and on, and though you’ve stopped paying attention you can still feel the softness in his tone
He tries to be gentle with you, and you have to remind him that you were just poisoned, not bedridden for months. Sometimes he’ll shoot you a glare and try to justify himself by saying it’s just like you to make another foolish mistake, but others he just won’t say anything and will keep the hand he has placed on your lower back “for safety”
Firmly believes in establishing as many preventative measures to keep this from happening again, so the next few weeks are going to be....a lot.
Sets up an alarm so he can remind you every lunch not to pick any of the “not safe for humans” options. Probably also gets you a seat in a class that goes over poisonous plants in the Devildom. 
Do not try to skip this. It’s easier for everyone if you just let him ease his mind how he likes.
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When you start coughing:
At first, Mammon assumes that you just heard the joke he made and (naturally) started laughing so hard your weird little human body couldn’t take it
So essentially, you start choking and he starts laughing at you thinking you’re laughing together
That all stops the moment you fall out of your chair and double over, suddenly dry heaving on the floor.
He sort of short-circuits for a second, not entirely sure what to do until one of the more knowledgeable brothers stoops down beside you
They tell him to just keep your airways clear and make sure you’re still breathing while they go to get the elixir they need, and he does. It’s one of the few times they see him so serious - he just doesn’t want to mess up, so he doesn’t focus on any of their comments or bite back
(”Gee, Mammon’s actually stepping up for once” “Yeah, too bad he was the one that poisoned them in the first place”) 
(Lucifer: he WHAT)
Taking care of you afterwards:
Mammon is usually the first thing you see in the morning, so that doesn’t come as a surprise. What does surprise you is how quiet he’s being. 
When you sit up and groggily ask, “Is something wrong?” (barely getting the words through your swollen lips) he is torn between trying to say something smooth (”N-not now that you’re okay!! not that i care....”) or calling you a dumb human. So instead he just stares at you
Eventually you can get it out of him what happened, and it explains why your face feels like it had been burned and your stomach feels gross
Mammon says he’s going to come up with a surefire way to protect you so nothing like this ever happens again, but his version of protecting you is sticking by your side 24/7 and he already does that so?
You’re the one that’s going to have to take the lead. Make a list of common ingredients that are SUPER deadly to humans and make sure you both have one for reference
Soon enough, though, he figures out how he can help you without your guidance and you catch him pointing out what’s safe without you having to ask
He follows you to the lunch line and examines the clear plastic boxes until he can point out a few human-safe options. He’ll bend to whisper in your ear in line at some fast-food joint. If you’re not sure, he’ll be the first to ask before you even remember that’s something you should be doing anyway.
He’ll even try to make dishes he thinks you’ll like without the poisonous ingredient! Sometimes it takes a few tries but if he wants you to try something with him, he WILL make it himself
When it comes to you, Mammon really will give you the best care he can. Sometimes he just needs that extra push to think things through.
(And if this wasn’t a push. a hard shove. over a cliff. into shark infested waters)
(don’t do this again, mc. his demon heart can’t take it)
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When you start coughing:
Levi has never mentioned how his brother don’t normally speak much to him at dinner and he’s just learned to be highly attuned to you. He notices a lot of little things you do, and is normally the first to realize when you’re choking or something.
That’s why, when you start coughing this time, he is the first one to panic. He knows that that isn’t a normal cough, he just doesn’t know what to do about it.
He looks down at his plate and realizes what’s on it, something he cries out right when you fall to the ground, clutching your stomach. You’re on the other side of the table and his brothers are already crowding around you, so Levi doesn’t get to see the blood and can only hear your coughing.
When your coughing gets weaker as you faint, he freaks. the. fuck. out. Did you die?? Even as he tries to look over his brother’s shoulders, he can’t get a good grasp of what happened until somebody tells him.
(It doesn’t matter much though. He’s still stuck in a loop of wondering what he could’ve done if he had gotten to dinner sooner, if he had managed to score a coveted seat next to you, if he had just looked at his plate or offered to take over for Mammon...)
Taking care of you afterwards:
You wake up in your bed and Lucifer is the one who comes in, asking you how you feel and if you’re up to classes to die. 
Being poisoned sure does take a lot out of you, so you ask to stay. Lucifer gives a quick nod and warns you not to shirk your duties, wishing you a fast recovery and letting you know that (human safe) food has been set aside specifically for you.
You doze off soon after (hey, a sick day may as well be spent sleeping in, right?) and when you wake up, somebody else is there, looking at you with inquisitive orange eyes and nearly scaring you half to death.
When you scream, he screams, backing up into your dresser and knocking some of the things off of it. 
“I-I’m sorry-! I was just- told to check up on you- just in c-case....I’ll leave now!”
Boy’s gonna make you chase after him when you’re basically sick smh
If you go to his room and demand to be let in, he will - and he’ll let you stay under the guise of “well if you have to check on me every hour it’ll be less of a hassle if I just stay here...”
You won’t be able to get him to say he feels guilty for letting this happen, but when you pick up on the signs ensure him that he’s doing fine taking care of you. HIs cool room helps soothe your mouth (which is still a little irritated), and you’re honored he has an alarm set to check up on you
You know he’s feeling better about it all when an alarm goes off and he just asks “Hey you good?” and he chuckles a little bit when you respond “Hold on I gotta check my own pulse....... yeah i think i’m good”
Overall he is worried but he doesn’t know how to communicate it? So it’s a lot of quick, worried glances and double checking nutrition facts on packages before he hands them to you.
He kind of leaves you to your own devices, but he does send you worried glances every now and then until you’re recovered. He also makes it a point, when Mammon’s on dinner duty, to tell him exactly how he prepared the meal, though you don’t know if it’s for your sake or just to bother him. Probably both.
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When you start coughing:
Satan has taken to leaving his books in his room for most dinner and talks to you in their place, so he notices what’s in the dish pretty quickly.
However, the second step of realizing what it could do to a human doesn’t quite hit him until you’re already on your second bite.
He reaches out to grab your wrist anyway, watching you cough while also staring at him in confusion. As he watches your face redden and your mouth swell, you take your wrist from his grasp and cover your mouth with your hand.
He’s the one who knows what to do, so he appoints someone to keep and eye on you while he runs (yes, runs, but he’ll act all cool about it if his brothers bring it up later) to his room to get some potion that’ll (hopefully) negate the effects
(Don’t let him hear me say this but) he’s similar to Lucifer in that he’s very level-headed when it happens - somebody needs to be focused on the cure when some of his more dramatic brothers are screaming (looking at you, Mammon and Asmo)
Taking care of you afterwards:
Satan might be the best at taking care of you, but he’s probably also the least fun.
Once he realized a while ago how fragile a human could be (and that he was interested in actually keeping you alive rather than just watching how long it takes for something to hurt you), he put in an effort to read up on how to help a poisoned human in the Devildom.
He knows how you must be feeling, and he offers you soothing teas or even a (human safe!) numbing lip balm to help you out.
(He finds great pleasure in how ridiculous you look, now that the danger’s passed - though he won’t tell you outright, you can tell it by the amused grin he isn’t even trying to hide)
Don’t be surprised if you catch him eyeing your plates of food for a while after the incident, and any time you catch him in the act he’ll look at you, take a drink out of the nearest cup and lift his eyebrows in a weird little acknowledgment that he’s been caught before saying “It looks tasty.”
Overall, he’s the standard amount of worried? Even though he will take every opportunity to tease you about how you looked afterwards or how feeble you are to be taken down by something so small (jokingly), he won’t ever get out of the habit of double checking your food to make sure it doesn’t happen again.
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When you start coughing:
Asmodeus eyes you warily when you start coughing, but continues with his entertaining until you hit the ground.
He’s by your side in an instant, hands hovering over you as if he doesn’t quite know what to do with himself (he doesn’t).
He doesn’t remember calling for Satan, but Satan is the one who kneels by you, so maybe he does? His focus is on you and deciding on something he can do to help.
This ends up shielding your face, puffy and a mess from your tears and retching, from the others who are all peering over at you in concern. He knows it’s not the most pressing detail, but he figures that maybe he can preserve your dignity a little bit, no?
He follows the action with his hands covering his mouth nervously, watching as they have to force a potion down your throat now that you’re unconscious. He’s allowed to stay by you once they determine that you’re safe since he normally doesn’t cause too much of a fuss - not when he looks as pale and miserable as he does now, anyway.
Taking care of you afterwards:
He’s not too experienced in the healthcare field, but boy does he know self care! He knows how to get your skin feeling less gross after the rather...irritable reaction it had and the best way to rest is if you feel totally physically relaxed, right?
For a while, if your stomach still feels like it’s churning or you’re otherwise unfocused, he’s the first to defend you from anybody who thinks you’re overreacting. 
Also makes sure nobody outside of the house knows how...unsightly of an ordeal it was. He isn’t shaming you internally or anything, but he’d loathe to have such an unpretty picture in people’s heads when you’ve been nothing but showstopping the whole time beforehand!
Will make sure to grab a seat across from you juuust before you take a bite for a while. It doesn’t matter if he’s across the room in the middle of a story or if you’re at a cafe with someone else and he’s still home. You’ll find him sliding in wordlessly to the seat across from you and watching you intently, making sure you’re eating something that isn’t going to burn you from the inside out.
Has multiple websites bookmarked on his D.D.D. that tell him what is poisonous to you and makes sure YOU are aware of what you’re putting inside your body before you eat it. He seems to genuinely think you’ll forget to save yourself from such a life-threatening situation, but the pout he gives you when you try to get him to stop is enough to convince you to live with it.
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When you start coughing:
When you start coughing, he reaches over and starts patting your back absently in the way that usually helps.
He notices the way you grasp onto the table in an attempt to keep yourself up, coughing into your other hand as it gets worse by the second. When you almost slip off, he reaches out to catch you before you hit to floor
Is ready to do the Heimlich when one of his brothers stops him because 1) he’d probably snap you in half, and 2) that’s not what’s happening
He watches blankly as Satan approaches him, laying you down gently as instructed. That’s probably worse, watching you writhe on the floor like that.
He’s the one instructed to help hold you down so they can feed you the potion cure. He wants to hold your hand but it’s covered in blood, and he doesn’t want to risk loosening his grip on you and you somehow spilling it.
Taking care of you afterwards:
He’s the one most shaken up about the whole ordeal, I’d think? While the others are definitely worried he’s the one that has the BIGGEST problem with the feeling of helplessness so I think it would bring back some memories
He definitely keeps a watchful eye over you until you can tell him coherently that you’re okay, and even then he’s still treating you like porcelain for a short while
He can’t help it! Any time he’s reminded of just how frail you can be (and how unexpectedly something horrible can happen) he just...needs a few gentle moments to collect his thoughts.
Does NOT want you even looking at anything that has that plant in it (or anything else poisonous for that matter). Will straight up eat an entire dish from the pan if you give it a glance that he thinks means you’re thinking about eating it. He can usually get away with it since that’s similar to what he already does, but every now and then you see the look in his eyes and wonder if there’s something more to it
He’ll warn you in the future if he knows something is poisonous, but if you’re trying something new he’ll automatically ask you “Can you eat that?” If he doesn’t know, he can at least remind you to check for yourself.
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When you start coughing:
Very few things can snap Belphegor out of a drowsy dinner stupor. You suddenly falling on the floor and coughing your insides out is one of the things that can.
If his brothers weren’t so concerned with you, they’d have a few quips about how quickly he startled awake
The first thing he does is dart his eyes back to the table, where he quickly realizes that they just inadvertently poisoned you. When he turns back, it seems the others have already come to that conclusion and someone is running off to help you
He knows that he doesn’t have much to offer in terms of help, but he will tear somebody (Mammon) away from you and kneel next to Beel.
He keeps himself under control by comforting Beel as he holds you down. 
There’s definitely a sick feeling in his stomach, something familiar about you lying on the floor and bleeding that he doesn’t like. He pretends to be averting his eyes at the sight of them forcing a potion down your throat and not some regrettable memory.
Taking care of you afterwards:
You wake up and Belphie is curled up next to you in your bed. Nobody else is in the house and it’s 3 PM. You feel gross and you can’t reach your phone to actually confirm what time it is and you have no idea what the fuck is going on until he wakes up
Which he does, after you poke and prod him enough and he’s very grumpy about it
“yeesh, you get poisoned and suddenly you think you’re the princess of the devildom”
“I get WHAT”
Definitely is planning to get Mammon back tenfold
He tries to act nonchalant about it but he does keep waking up ever few hours and lifts his head to like. check that you’re good for the first day or so. 
Sometimes he gets this sad look in his eyes and you have to smooth his hair back and reassure him that everything’s okay. It works a little but if he thinks he can trick you by pretending to sleep and then steal a few moments where he can Brood on his own while STILL cuddled up next to you, he will.
Suddenly takes an interest in what you’re eating. Every day. Every meal. 
He doesn’t go to check on you but he does text you a few minutes before lunch or if you’re getting dinner somewhere other than the house “What are you planning on eating?”
Gets real huffy if you don’t give him a straight answer. Usually will respond with a “Whatever don’t get yourself almost killed again”
If you decide to get cheeky and answer “Probably straight poison, like right out of the mysterious bottle with a skull on it” he will just say “ugh, sounds like you. have fun.”
“...”
“...”
“...seriously, don’t do that mc.”
he sets alarms to wake up so he can make sure you don’t ingest literal poison be a little nice to him please
992 notes · View notes
bloomyagi · 4 years ago
Text
beautiful, beloved, mine (m)
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summary: you set him ablaze. he can only hope you like watching him burn for you. alternatively: this love for you is consuming him, and it all comes out in a badly vomited confession after he corners you at a gala.
pairings: shouto todoroki x f!reader
genre: pro heroes au, characters are aged up 20+
warnings: smut, dry humping, shouto comes in his pants, sub!shouto, he’s a good boi for you, he loves you very much n wants to be your baby
length: 2,447
notes: can u tell how much i love him pls -
.
.
.
“Can I be yours?”
Shouto Todoroki, ranked third pro-hero in Japan, has his strong arms braced around your head. In all your years of friendship, he has never been anything but exceedingly polite. He is well-behaved, thoughtful and sharp. He is guarded, though not intentionally, not anymore—it is reflex, a shield he has never really learned to lower. A reminder of his childhood.
You think he’s drunk. He must be, beautiful dual-coloured locks dishevelled, black button-up half-open and exposing his gorgeous collarbone. You watch, unwittingly, as a bead of sweat trickle down his neck. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, biceps flexing.
The dimmed lighting unfairly accosts you with his devastatingly handsome features and muscular body. And his eyes. His heterochromatic eyes are alight with something fierce and intense. They are also clear, glowing, almost, in the dark.
The two of you are somehow on the balcony, shut away from the rest of the world, the bass and the sounds of life fading in your little bubble until all you can hear is the blood rushing in your ears, the warmth of his breath, the heat of skin and the fluttering of your heart in your throat. The cement wall digs into your back.
No, you correct yourself. He isn’t drunk. He’s barely tipsy. He doesn’t like to drink, rarely acquiesces to Kirishima’s insistence of shots.
He doesn’t smell like alcohol. His scent has always been calming, detectable under the thin layer expensive cologne he uses—he doesn’t like perfumed smells either, only uses it on nights like these, when he’s obliged to look the part—that fresh, cool scent. Of clean sheets, laundry detergent.
Still, this is out of character. Todoroki has never once crossed a line with you, with anyone. He’s quiet, reserved, though he smiles more now, the forming dimples in the corner of his eyes a living testament to his character growth. He treats others fairly. He is not unkind, honest and straight-forward. He is many things, and with the way he’s gazing down at you now, you are suddenly reminded of Midoriya’s hushed remarks earlier.
“You can’t see it, but Todoroki-kun treats you differently. He thinks about you, what you’d like and what you like. He cares about you so he’s careful around you. He wants to cherish you. He’s cold because he uncertain. He doesn’t know what to do. This is all new to him.”
“What is?”
The number one pro-hero had looked at you strangely. “Being in love.”
Midoriya is indisputably Todoroki’s best friend. Still, his actions are baffling. Why you? Why now? No, you couldn’t see it at all.
“Todoroki, are you drunk?”
“No. Though I required a little … liquid courage, as they say,” he rasps. He’s so close. His voice, so deep and husky, has you biting your lower lip. His gaze falls immediately.
He doesn’t touch you. The way his arms flex, hands clenching and unclenching, and his stiff posture tells you he wants to. He’s visibly restraining himself. Waiting, watching. Hoping.
“You never … why me?” You say softly.
“I could not. I wanted to, so badly. I have always wanted you. I always thought it was impossible for someone like me—to find someone I would want to share my life with, given my upbringing and dysfunctional family. But then things changed, got better, and then I met you.” He takes a shaky breath.
“I found wordless comfort in your mere presence. I found I could be emboldened, empowered, changed by your words. Every day I wondered how I could be worthy of you—if I could ever be worthy of you. Then I realized it was you … it would not matter to you, so long as I was honest with who I was. That is just the kind of person you are …” He shuts his eyes. His lashes are so long, you note absently.
“I am touched by your existence … I find joy in your spirit, yearning for your embrace, for the heat of your skin pressed against mine, I crave it … these foreign desires, they elicit something dark within myself,” he continues, breathing a little ragged now.
“This need, this desperation, like fire spreading in my veins, uncontrollable and hungry … I feel restless, itching for something, someone … Now I finally understand. I feel like I want to—to devour you. It is no longer enough, seeing you as I do, being as we are, mere friends … I want more, need more. With this desire to monopolize, I fear I have become … insatiable,” he trails off, turning his face to the side in shame.
Oh. Shouto Todoroki is in love with you, you realize with a jolt. He longs for you. For your companionship, your wit, your soul and your body. Your heart.
You reach up with a trembling hand to touch his jaw, guiding him until he looked at you once more. He doesn’t resist, pliant and eager as he leans into your hold.
“Only if I can be yours in return,” you say.
He lurches forward, knees nearly giving out as he slumps in your arms. “Oh, thank god, I … I was anxious I would have ruined everything. I knew it was unlikely they would be reciprocated, but I—I had to try,” he gasps. “This desire, it was consuming me.”
“Todoroki …” You thumb his cheekbone. He sighs faintly, body curving over yours as he presses close. “Call me Shouto, please …”
“Shouto.” He makes a strangled noise.
“Again. Please. You must understand, I have longed for this for so long …” He pleads shyly.
“Shouto,” you whisper, stroking his cheek. He’s so unexpectedly adorable. So, so adorable.
“My apologies, darling. I know I’m taking liberties, but I’m weak … I’m not strong enough to resist such temptation. Not while you are here, in front of me like nights when I dared to dream… So beautiful.” He nuzzles your palm.
You flush at his term of endearment, at the rawness of his tone. He has laid himself bare, singing his truth like a Shakespeare sonnet.
“You woo me like you’re waxing poetry … does this often work with others?” You murmur. You think you’re in real danger of melting.
His eyes fly open in alarm. “No. Never. It has only ever been you. I speak only from the heart, I have never—never done this before, am I explaining myself poorly? I am often told my words could use some more tact …”
Your heart swells.
“I’m just teasing, Shouto,” you say softly, combing a hand through his locks apologetically. “Your words are beautiful, I’m touched, truly.”
He relaxes, curling closer in your embrace.
“You don’t know … how I dream of building a home with you, of sharing all my firsts with you, cooking and setting the table with you … breakfast after long nights, filling the space between us with laughter and joy. Sleeping next to you,” he slurs. And then he goes on plainly, “How I fist myself every night thinking of the swell of your hips, the curl of your lips, your sweet, enthralling scent …”
You inhale sharply. Part of you is entirely taken back by the dual-haired hero’s use of uncharacteristically vulgar descriptions. His words drip over you like a honeyed aphrodisiac. Sweet and addictive.
“May I?” He draws closer, hands releasing you to brace against the concrete behind. Your body shivers involuntarily, missing the heat of his palms immediately.
“Yes,” you whisper.
Shouto dips his head, beautiful heterochromatic eyes watching you carefully for any sign of hesitation or indication you wanted to stop. Ever the gentleman.
This is who he is, you realize. Respectful of your boundaries, honest and, with you, gentle. He eyes flutter close when his lips touch yours. They’re warm, sweet with a hint of the alcohol he consumed earlier. Your fingers bury themselves in his locks, the kiss unhurried, savouring each moment.
Then you open your mouth, tongue touching his. And Shouto falters. He groans throatily, your nose tickling at the scent of ash. Ah. He’s losing control. He jerks away quickly, right hand enclosing over his left.
“Don’t tempt me,” he rasps, blush rising.
You snag the rumpled collar of his shirt, pulling him close. “Kiss me again.”
And when you guide his hands over your hips, he grips them tightly and crushes his mouth against yours, kissing you hard. Spit runs down your chins, messy and sensual.
Something hard presses against your inner thigh. You push his legs apart and shove your leg in between. He chokes, eyes rolling back.
“Ngh—!” He gasps. “More—hngg—please!”
You pull back to survey him. He chases after you, lips slick and swollen.
“Shouto. You like this?”
He pauses, sucking in a breath sharply, eyes flickering. And then—
“Yes,” he whispers, a whisp of flame flaring on his left.
Your core clenches over nothing at his needy, humiliated tone.
“I like this too,” you confess, trailing a hand over the ridges of his abdomen, fascinated by the way the muscles clench.
Shouto mewls, chest thrusting forward when you pinch his nipples experimentally through the cotton. “Ah—ughh—yes!”
“Can you come like this?” You wonder absently as you twist his perked nubs harshly. He moans brokenly, hips jerking.
“I—I d-don’t­—kno—hah,” he pants, eyes half-lidded as he struggles to focus. Pleasure clouds his senses, head fuzzy and vision hazy.
“Can you get off here, like this?” You ask softly. “I want to see you come undone.”
Shouto blinks blearily at you, nodding eagerly. “Hng—yes, wanna be good for you,” he slurs. Oh. My. If you weren’t dripping before, you certainly are now.
He stumbles a little as you push him against the wall, switching positions. He’s barely standing at this point, leaning heavily against the cement as he gazes up at you with glazed eyes. He looks utterly fucked out and utterly delectable.
You undo the remainder of his buttons, holding him back firmly when he whines, pawing at the fabric, wanting to rip it off.
“We still have to walk out of here,” you remind him, giggling. His only blinks at you blankly as if to say and? Too gone to think of the consequences.
“This view is reserved for my eyes only,” you murmur, nails scraping against his nipples. He gasps, back arcing. “Yes, yes!” He agrees mindlessly.
He grinds against your thigh desperately, the weight of his cock heavy and hot. He throbs at every touch.
“Kiss—kiss, please,” he whines, reaching for you. You oblige, internally fawning over his cuteness.
His hips move faster, chasing release as he moans and keens into your mouth.
He parts from you with a gasp and wet shlick. “Feels so good—sho good—hngg,” he babbles. His asymmetric temperatures intensify, the heat of his left searing you and the chill of the right piercing you.
“Oh—I’m—I’m c-cu—” he cries out, gripping you tightly as he fucks himself against your thigh urgently. You push your leg against him harder, nails digging into his stomach.
“Come for me Sho,” you murmur, biting his lower lip. His mouth parts in a silent wail, head tossing as his eyes roll. His body shudders, something warm seeping into the fabric of your jeans.
With a strangled groan, he sags against you, exhausted and spent. You stroke his hair soothingly, brushing back the sweaty locks and peppering chaste kisses over his face as he comes down slowly.
Faintly, you register someone calling your name.
“Oh, Midoriya. Over here.”
Shouto is too out of it, still coming down from his high, his soft moans tickling your ear
“Oh, there you are! Have you seen Todoroki-kun? I—oh!” He squeaks loudly, spinning on his heel immediately and covering his reddening face.
What a sight the two of you must be. A perfectly debauched Shouto, shirt falling over his broad shoulders, the fabric clinging to his glistening skin, raised lines over his bare chest that appear angrier in the darkened lighting, slumped over you, body trembling from the aftershocks of his orgasm.
The One for All user pales when he spots the noticeable burn the size of a palm on the wall behind your head.
“Uh—neverminditwasn’timportanthahahaohsomeone’scallingmegottagobye!” Midoriya practically screams in your face before bolting from the scene in the next beat.
Shouto manages a tired chuckle as you blink in the wake of his dust.
“You’re surprisingly shameless,” you remark when you turn back to him.
His wry smile slips, letting out a weak mewl when you squeeze his cock over his slacks teasingly. He’s already chubbing up, hips rolling slowly against your touch.
“I told you, didn’t I? I’m insatiable when it comes to you, darling,” he murmurs, cheeks dusting.
“Then let’s continue,” you say, helping him stand. He valiantly tries to salvage whatever is left of his shirt, but it’s hopeless. He gives up, letting it drift apart, sculpted abdomen and chest in full view.
“Hmm. I quite like this view,” your palm rests on his stomach, smiling when he jolts at your warmth.
“My place or yours?” He breathes, pulling you flush to him.
“Yours, I think. I’ve been meaning to try out your new jacuzzi,” you rest your cheek against his chest, tracing nonsensical patterns on his pec. Goosebumps rise on his skin, and you can hear the rapid fluttering of his pulse. He’s—nervous?
“I built it for you,” he confesses, burying his face into your hair. “After you mentioned how much you wanted to try one, I thought—well, I don’t know what I thought. I only know that I went out the next day to hire a contractor and expand my bathroom. I suppose part of me nurtured a hope I’d one day pluck enough courage to ask you to come over and give it a try …”
You pull away, looking up at him in disbelief. He laughs dryly at your expression.
“Yes. I know. It sounds as irrational as it felt. I still haven’t used it yet.”
“Then …,” you hesitate. And then you say shyly, “Then if you’d like … we could try it today? Together?”
“I … yes, I’d love that,” Shouto swallows thickly.
You take his hand as the two of you start to make your way back. He squeezes your hand once.
“Let’s go home,” you say softly. The corner of his heterochromatic eyes crinkle, lips curling into a gentle beam. He looks radiant, beauty amplified by his dishevelled and unkept state. He leans down to kiss the corner of your mouth.
“Yes,” he says. “Let’s.”
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melo-yello · 4 years ago
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📚School Struggles📚 w/ 💥🪨KiriBaku💥🪨 HeadCanons
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Pairings: KiriBaku X Black!Reader
Summary: College AU! Reader falls behind in course work, and won’t tell anybody. But Kirishima and Bakugou find out.
A/n: I’m an adult who went most of my life with undiagnosed learning disabilities so this would just be comforting to me. Lil angst! Lots of fluff. Implied ADHD and Dyslexia.
📕🖊 First tests are handed back in four of your eight classes.You’ve failed all but one which you barely passed. You are asked stay back as yet another professor suggests you find a tutor
📕🖊You’re lowkey offended. You’ve never needed a tutor before. Up until recently your performance in other areas compensated for your less than stellar academics. You were in gifted courses all your life. You would just hafta try harder
📕🖊 Kiri and Baku are saving a spot in line for you by the time you meet them at the cafe when you shove the thoughts of failure out of your brain and perk up to your usual self
📕🖊 Kiri’s face lights up as soon as he spots you. “Over here, Babe!” He beams flagging you down. Like it was hard to make out the giant red head in a crowd. Especially with the large lean, continuously pissed blonde scowling at everyone right by his side.
📕🖊 “Hey,Dumbass.” Baku smiles slightly and pulls a hand from his pocket to offer you a hug and a kiss on the temple
📕🖊 Kiri pulls you by your waist into his torso kissing your forehead “What took you so long?” He asks letting you free from the vice grip he had on your curvy hips
📕🖊 “I got a lil turned around again.” You lie pulling Bakugou’s free hand into yours then lean into his shoulder. There’s something very comforting about how warm he is all the time. You wanted to snuggle into his back but PDA really isn’t his thing and you are already pushing it
📕🖊 “It’s a big campus, Teddy, you just have to get used to it. You just transferred. Me and Eiji can take turns walking you from class to class until you get the hang of it, you know?” Baku says trying to read your eyes. He could just feel something is off. Your box braids and the angle itself saves you from any further scrutiny.
📕🖊“You guys, gotta be pretty sprung to do that for me, ya know.” You quip smirking up at him then over to Kiri. “Fuck you too, Teddy Bear.” Baku huffs smirking *maybe he was wrong, unlikely* “Yea basically, Pebs. Liking who you date is super manly.” Kirishima laughs grabbing his tray.
📕🖊 You three finally sit in a small wrap around booth. Bakugou taking the middle spot today. You do your best to not zone out and hyper fixate on your test scores by making sure to laugh at Kiri’s jokes and nod along with Baku’s venting
📕🖊 You slide your fork in and out of your picked over food as you strategize how to fix your current problem without alerting your boyfriends. Before you knew it your table is quiet with two crimson gazes fixed on you
📕🖊 “You’re quiet today, L/n.” Bakugou says fixing you with a deeply fierce gaze which was his way of looking concerned. Sharpness of your actual name drew you from your thoughts in a instant. “Hmmm I think Kats has a point, L/n Y/n.” Kirishima says in between slurps of his smoothie. His red eyes practically dripping with curious concern
📕🖊 You make a quick split decision between the truth and charm. “Wow, my government. I must be in real big trouble.” You pout trying to flirt your way out of a more serious conversation. You poke out your plush bottom at Kiri while slipping a hand onto Baku’s inner thigh and gently squeezing before hitting him with the same seductive pout
📕🖊 Big Mistake!😳 Bakugou’s vermillion eyes widen before becoming instantly stern as he grips your wrist tight enough to hurt. “The fuck are you doing?!! I was being serious, Y/n! And in public?!! You’re fucking priceless!” The ash blonde hisses with angry pink cheeks. Guilt washes over you when you snatch your wrist back. “I’m sorry. I just didn’t want to...talk about it.” You mumble. “Then use your fucking words!” 😤 Bakugou kisses his teeth and stands so Kiri lets him out. “He’s just a little embarrassed, Pebble. I needa talk him down. You can find your next class right?” He sighs watching Baku storm out
📕🖊 “Yea. I’m sorry. Tell him, Kiri. Please.” You squeak sheepishly grabbing your stuff. “He knows but I will. He’s mad about other stuff.” He nods following after Bakugou
📕🖊 It’s intimidating to compete with their history at times. You couldn’t bring yourself to just dump all your issues on them
📕🖊 You’ve only been dating since summer and Kiri and Baku have been dating since their senior year in high school year. You guys are starting your junior year and are still learning each other.
📕🖊 You get lost a couple times before finding the right building. The noise in your head going nearly at light speed to wrap all the problems you’re having. The professor passes the test you’d spent majority of last night and early morning studying for. You felt confident until it was in your hands.
📕🖊 You chew the pen top trying to finish up the last 7 short answer questions when then alarm for 5 minutes left is given. You panic not even having started the true false section on the last page. You scribble down answers just as time up is announced across the classroom
📕🖊 Defeat washes over while you shuffle out the door. You reach in your pocket to dig out the card for Student Accomidation Services your World Civ professor gave you. Maybe this was something simple as a “processing problem” as she had explained when you visited her during office hours
📕🖊 A throat clearing pulls you from your thoughts. You jump stuffing both hands into your jeans card and all. Bakugou stood unreadable propped up on a wall only a few steps away from you. “Eiji, thinks we need to talk about the cafe. Plus he doesn’t get out of lab til 3:45, so you’re kinda stuck with me.” Bakugou mumbles offering his palm as an olive branch.
📕🖊 “He’s probably right. I don’t mind just you, Tuff Guy. I really am sorry though, Katsuki.” You sigh interlocking your fingers with his. “I know, Teddy. I wasn’t really mad about that anyways.” Baku concedes as you two stroll down the hall. “I didn’t hurt your wrist earlier, did I?” Baku asks softly opening the door and meeting your eyes with gentle concern. “Nah, You didn’t, King Explosion Murder.” You laugh giving his hand a firm squeeze before kissing it
📕🖊 The walk to your dorm is quiet and peaceful. He lets you settle your school bag before speaking again “I just feel like you’re still trying to hide parts of yourself from us, especially me,” He says looking into your eyes now, “Like you’ve been pulling back. Eijirou thinks I’m looking too deep, but I doubt it. I know I can be a little rough and mean sometimes...well a lot of the times. I’m not easy to get along with. But you know you can talk to us when you’re upset or if something bothering you... if I’m bothering you. I don’t like you feeling like you have to pretend to be ok if you’re not.” Baku finishes crossing his arms tightly across your chest.
📕🖊 You dig your nails into your palms mercilessly. You open your mouth to reply and reassure him but the words won’t come. Baku notices what you’re doing to your hands and steps closer to take them into his. He rubs slow circles into the backs of them. Hot tears pool at the corners of your eyes as you try to find your voice. “Kats, I’m...I didn’t me...I...Of course you’re not what’s bothering me.” you croak out just as tears roll down your face and Baku pulls you to his chest.
📕🖊 Your breathing hitches and you just let yourself be disappointed, confused, frustrated, and upset about the last month and a half of struggling and wondering why you couldn’t tell anybody and why no one was even noticing. But He did. Baku had noticed. He rocks gently as you tremble in his arms rubbing firm circles in your lower back.
📕🖊 You two stay like that for what seems forever. Once your breathing evens out Baku’s hold relaxes. He kisses both your temples.You reluctantly let go , so you can pull wrinkled failing test pages from your backpack. “Please don’t laugh at me, Suki.” You peep placing the cause of your meltdown in his hands not attempting to have your puffy eyes met his red ones. Lifting your chin so you’re looking him in the eyes. “Come on, Teddy Bear. I wouldn’t dare.” He nods with the most serious face
📕🖊 Bakugou is quiet for a while as he leafs through the exam papers. “Why didn’t finish any of them?” He asks “Time. I’m a slow reader.” You mutter back. “I’ve seen you doing homework for two of these courses and passing those, what’s happening?” Baku says staring in disbelief at the scores at the top of each exam.
📕🖊 You swallow the lingering fear of judgement. You place a hand at your temple to remind yourself of Baku’s earlier tenderness. “I get anxious. It gets so much harder to read when I’m that worked up, and I can barely focus once I start forgetting answers...I know it’s just a test. I guess...That sounds dumb, doesn’t it?” You sigh shrug off your own explanation.
📕🖊 “Nope. Not dumb at all. Sounds like test anxiety to me. I struggled with that in high school . I didn’t know you were a slow reader, Teddy.” Baku says pulling your hand before you can dig your nails into it. “Yea. One of my professors thinks I have dyslexia and ADHD...but I’m not stupid sooo.” You hum rocking on your heels “That is not what either of those words mean, and I know you know that, L/n.” Bakugou growls he absolutely hates when you or Kirishima talk down on yourselves. “Yea but it feels like it though.” You sigh biting your lips
📕🖊 Before Baku can say a word, Kiri swings the door open. “Babes! Have you two hotties missed me?” The red head shouts coming through the door way smiling until he sees your puffy eyes and tense posture. “Bakugou Katsuki, I know you fucking didn’t?!!” Kiri questions suspiciously leaning down to rest his chin on your shoulder and wrapping a protective hold around your waist.
📕🖊 “The Absolute fuc-” Baku’s defensive rant is cut short as you kiss the hand holding yours to quiet him as you answer Kiri “No Eiji, he didn’t. I’m flunking like half my classes.” You huff meeting his eyes with quivering lips trying your best not to cry all over again
📕🖊 Kiri is stunted into complete silence. The only thing he can think to say is an apology to his boyfriend for jumping to conclusions. Last time he checked your GPA’s a lot more impressive that his. “How the fuck is that even possible? You transferred into the honor courses.” Kiri says completely baffled moving to where he could see your face.
📕🖊 You explain to your boyfriends all the things that have been tripping you up and confusing you. You detail how hard studying has been as far as staying focused and actually understanding lengthy test questions
📕🖊 Kiri has a million questions at first but stops half way through after Baku grabs your overnight bag and leads you out the door. “You’re gonna freak her out all over again, Shitty Hair, if you keep going at her like that.” He could tell you were getting overwhelmed, and might cry again “My bad, Pebs.” Kiri says kissing your cheek as he follows behind
📕🖊 Once you get back to their apartment and Baku askes for your help making dinner. He has you read the directions and ingredients to him. You stumble through most of it, but that doesn’t stop him from praising you as soon as you finish. He has since learned you and Kiri do best when told how well you’re doing vs his typical shouting method
📕🖊 The three of you set an assessment time with the Student Disability Services on campus that doesn’t conflict with the Boys’ schedules, because they insisted that they’d both be there to support their baby and wouldn’t take your bullshit excuses for an actual reason to miss it
📕🖊 Kiri helps you make flash cards for your next test. If he remembers nothing else from Baku’s tutoring sessions the importance of repetition is drilled into him...among other things. Each time you ask him how that went he’ll just shudder. “It was the most intensely terrifying experience of my high school career, and we fought villains pretty regularly.” Kiri deadpans before grinning like the Cheshire Cat and covering his head. “You’re full of fucking shit, Shark Week! I’m the best tutor you assholes could hope for.” Baku yells pushing Kiri’s face into his pages of notes.
📕🖊 The night before your disability assessment you find yourself tossing and turning at like 4:45 in the morning. Kiri repositions pinning you in place so you face Baku’s back. You trace soft shapes into him just before he flips meeting your eyes. “Lil early isn’t it, Babygirl?” He whispers brushing away a few stray box braids covering your face. You don’t bother answering and instead offer him your palm and he takes it without hesitation interlocking your fingers with his. “Nervous?” He hums when he feels the steady trembling of your hand.
📕🖊 “Katsuki, what if there’s nothing wrong with me? What if it’s just me? What if I’m just...” you trail off not sure if you want him to hear how much this subject shakes your confidence. Bakugou moves close enough for your foreheads to touch. “If you’re just not smart? Not even possible. Whatever it is me and Kiri will help you go beyond. I know this is scary, but every first usually is.” Bakugou smiles softly
📕🖊 “Bbbbbuuut maybe I’m just du-” You attempt to argue until a sharp nip on the side of your neck where Kiri was peacefully nuzzled quiets you. “Nope. Not a chance. Pebble, don’t talk shit about my girlfriend again.” He mumbles in a gravelly half sleep voice. He settles again and snakes an arm around hips as he tugs Baku into you with the other. You open mouth your more to defend yourself but KatSuki just bops your nose as he closes his eyes, “You heard, the sexy ass red mountain. You’re fucking smart. Go back to sleep, Kay?”
📕🖊 “Kay.” You sigh digging your face into the crook of Baku’s neck. You lay there out argued but feeling overwhelming loved, so you chose to let them win the debate. The boys hardly agree on most things so they were totally probably right about this one anyways.
📕🖊 You are on a very very short list of people who Bakugou Katsuki repeats himself for. Like boy lets you “huh?” the fuck out of him. He will often cup your face or hold your hands if he needs tell you something important b/c he understands you’re a tactical learner
📕🖊 Best believe that all your future successes in classes big and small will be celebrated you getting taken out for icecream and if it’s a graded paper they’ll put on the fridge like you’re in grade school. You find it a little embarrassing but it really makes you feel like you’re making progress
📕🖊 Kiri brings your favorite snacks for study sessions so he can reward you for right answers and staying on task. You call it “childish” at first until he shrugs “Oh my bad we can try something els-” about to put them away. “Noooooo no those are my favorites.” You nearly jump over the table. Kiri has a shit eating grin the rest of the study session
📕🖊 When giving directions from the passenger seat both Kiri and Baku typically do a good job of remembering you need them to point left and right
📕🖊 If you’ve had long day in tutoring and homework and you guys are watching anime Bakugou will read the subs to you. Sometimes if he’s in a particularly good mood he might even imitate a voice or two
📕🖊 Kiri would politely let you ramble about one of your niche interests and will help you get back to your point when you get lost in a tangent
📕🖊 Don’t let these two hear you call yourself “dumb” or “stupid” Kiri will just act like he can’t comprehend what you’re saying like deadass “Pebs, speak English please. Nope not catching that, Babygirl. Did you say you were a smarticle particle? An intelligent ass motherfucker?! Oh, of course you are!” While Baku is more like “Sorry what was that? I thought I heard a very accomplished and creative thinking ass bitch say something? A incredibly capable ass bitch say something?A smart ass bitch say something?” Your only response is yes and then you get a forehead kiss
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writingsfromhome · 4 years ago
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Sorry x Rare
A/N: I got two lyric requests for Sorry by Beyonce and Rare by Selena Gomez. They were both sort of two sides of the same coin so I wrote them together it mostly goes from rare to sorry. Thanks for the requests, fingers crossed it lives up to what you wanted! <3
Synopsis: You and Harry have been together for a long time but he’s not the same man you fell in love with anymore.
-----
I move my dinner around on my plate, my gaze on the man pacing outside the restaurant on his phone. My man. But it didn't really feel like that these days. These days, Harry was a stranger to me--late nights, phone calls interrupting dinner, waking up to find him gone and not even sure if he'd come home at all.
I watch him remove the phone from his ear in a rush, stare at it, and then shove it aggressively in his pocket. He walks back in, cheeks pink and huffing.
"Should we ask for the bill?" He sits down in a flurry. I stare at his barely-eaten meal and my own dinner mashed to bits.
"We've barely had dinner."
"Babe, we've been here for over an hour since..." he takes his phone back out to inform me of how much time exactly but something must catch his attention because his sentence dies on his lips. I stare, he was so distant lately. "I'll drop you off at home, I've got to meet the boys they decided to talk business-"
"It's 8pm on a Thursday," I state the obvious. "Can't you catch up with them la-"
"This isn't an argument Y/N," Harry finally looks at me. He was done discussing it. He lifts his hands to the waiter and a minute later dinner's been paid for. He wasn't my baby, I think as we stroll outside to his car. I don't know who this man was.
***
I wake up the next morning with the weight of Harry on the other side of the bed. I could smell him, the booze sitting in his pores.
“Ugh,” I groan, not wanting to smell that first thing in the morning. I get up and start my day before I head to work. Soon, Harry appears squinting as I stir sugar into my coffee.
“I need a coffee,” he says, his voice hoarse. It used to sound sexy but now it was just another reminder that things changed. We lived like roommates and it hurt that he never wanted to talk. Half the time, he acted like I wasn’t even there.
I watch him settle with his coffee, taking the first sip and letting out a deep breath. A memory comes to me suddenly, the first year we were dating,
“I think this is the best coffee I’ve ever had,” it was the first night Harry had stayed the whole night and I’d made him coffee in my outdated coffee maker. It came out burnt half the time but that morning’s cup was decent. We’re swaddled in my blankets--the room I rented back then had poor circulation in the winter.
“I think you’re still slightly drunk,” I lean my shoulder against his and cup the warm drink. “I’ve definitely had better coffees.”
“Maybe coffees are just better the morning after,” he says, glancing at me and I know he can see the flush on my cheeks. He knew I was shy talking about certain things in the light of day.
“We can say that,” I mumble into the cup. “It’s just nice to have a heat source.”
“Here,” he takes the cup from me and reaches over to put both on the nightstand.
“Hey I wasn’t done with that.”
“I know but if you’re cold, I know this other heat source--it even works for hypothermia.”
His statement causes a blood rush that warms me already but I don’t say no to what he has in mind. I could make us another cup later.
Harry catches me staring when he looks over and raises an eyebrow. I snap out of my thoughts and twist my lips into a smile, looking back at my own drink bitterly. Who was this man in front of me? Out loud, I ask: “How was your night? You came in late.”
“I was out with the boys.” he says in a tone that meant he didn’t want to talk about it. “It got late.”
“A text would’ve been nice,” I say, still looking at my cup.
“S’not like you were waiting up,” he turns to walk back towards the bedroom.
“Learned not to,” I mumble but I know he’s heard me with the way he pauses. But he didn’t care enough to argue, dispute it, nothing. He leaves.
***
"Guess who just made a commission that's more than I used to earn in a year?" April walks into the small office, an infectious grin on her face.
"You sold him on it?" I put away the file I'm working on and jump up to hug my friend.
"I had to flirt a little--give him a vivid picture of what he could have there, and he signed! I'm bloody brilliant."
April was my American ex-pat who I met when she was looking for a flat a few years ago. And now here she was, working for me at the small real estate office I managed with a few other people I considered friends.
"Do you know if he was single?" I tune back in to hear Janelle asking.
"No, don't give her bad advice!" I scold Janelle. “We don’t date clients.”
"I'm miserably single," April pouts. "I'll take advice even if it’s bad."
"Bad advice is to stay with your college sweetheart to the point where you're not sure he even cares about you." I say to no one in particular. It was just us in the office today, and they knew everything about my life so I didn't care much. But the pin-drop silence that follows is different. I look up to see my friends eyeing each other. "What?"
"Nothing." They stay tight lipped but I push and they crack. "Well, so...we know things are rocky between you and Harry..."
"Things aren't rocky," I clarify. "They're just...nonexistent."
"Right," April slides closer. "Soo, we saw him at the club yesterday."
I raise my eyebrow, "He told me he was meeting up with his boys."
"Oh!" They sound surprised I know, but they look at each other again so I push them. "He was...there was a girl? Sitting on his lap for most of the night? Like, nothing happened I don't think so?" She turns to look at April at the end of each sentence.
Personally, I feel gut-punched even though I suspected this. I knew he wasn't where he said he was going to be sometimes, or with who he said he was going to be with. But he cut our own dinner short last night to be with strangers yesterday? I grip the pen in my hand.
"Y/N honestly...you know we love you and support you. But, you're a special girl and you deserve better than that sod."
"Yeah," Janelle puts her hand on my shoulder. "You're a gem Y/N. There's someone else out there who's gonna see how rare you are."
"I know," I blow my cheeks out. We'd had different conversations like this before, although never this direct. I guess we'd never had direct proof of what my husband was doing until now though.
"He's an idiot not knowing you're so rare," my friends try to comfort me. I feel my eyes well up and I swipe at them. I wasn't going to cry at work but they must sense the tears because they excuse themselves, "We're going to get you a tea, and some pastries to celebrate April's sale. April?"
I keep my face buried in my hands as they leave, take a few deep breaths. "I am rare," I say to myself but even that makes me laugh bitterly. Harry and I had been together for 5 years and here I was trying to count up all the reasons we should stay together when he didn't even care. He was out with other women, and I was waiting around for him.
"I'm rare," I say again. "I'm special, I deserve better. I...deserve better."
When will u be home tonight? I text Harry before I lose my nerve.
Busy he says. That’s it. And then, Why?
What time? I ask again.
8 or so, he responds.
Okay, we need to talk then. I put my phone away, too scared what he might text back. A tear falls from my cheek onto my keyboard, landing on the letter H. It mocks me. I wipe it off, and before I can think about what I'm doing I smash the letter down with my fist. I stand up and walk to the back of the office, a window overlooks the busy street. I'd had enough, I decide. Fuck Harry.
I’m not sure how long I stand there stewing, but my friends walking in with pastries and tea ends the emotional boiling pot from overflowing.
"Thanks," I take the cup from them.
“So we were talking and...” April looks at Janelle and she nods. “You should come out with us some time. Like...tonight. Dance with us, with other people...”
“I...I’ve got something at 8,” I come up with an excuse. As angry as I was, I wanted to have this conversation. It was long overdue.
***
I check my time again, the last text Harry sent me Ok. But it was 8:25 and Harry still wasn’t home. I’d give him five more minutes, I decide. I’d already tried to ring him with no answer.
I stare at the ring on my finger, it was supposed to symbolize a promise he made to me. What a fucking joke. I should’ve never said I do in the first place.
Was it young love, I wonder. Did we do this too fast and we were just set up to fail? But I remember the good memories, the soft and sweet times between us.
“I-I’ve never done something like this before,” I tell Harry. “I hate heights.”
“Listen,” he crowds around me, blocking my view of his friends who are walking up the narrow trail like it was any old walkway. “You go in front of me, I’ll have my hand on your back the whole time. I won’t let you fall. I promise.”
I look up into those gentle eyes and swallow my fear. “Okay.”
“I promise it will be so worth it,” he gushes, his excitement uncaged now that I’d agreed. “There’s no lights there so the stars are so bloody bright--I know you’re going to love it!”
I can’t help it, my lips crack into a smile at his boyish excitement. He catches it and pauses, a breath in this whirlwind of a night. What started out as a house party turned into a walk to a local beach which turned into a hike into the woods and up a precarious--and very steep--ridge to get to an isolated lookout. Only with Harry did I find myself in these situations. And I loved it. I loved him, I realise then. My expression must change because he tugs on my hand, probably worried I’d change my answer.
“Walk ahead,” he instructs and I nearly tip toe on the ridge that’s at least 30 feet across. But his steady hand on my back pushes me gently and I walk across confidently until I look down 2/3 of the way. I freeze in place but Harry’s ready. “Y/N, you’re safe here. Look at me-look...”
I crane my neck and he grounds me, oh my god how did I just realise now how in love I was with him? He squeezes my hand, asks if I was okay. I had to be, I couldn’t stay stuck in the middle.
Inch by inch we finally make it to the other side and I jump off with a yelp which sets Harry off in a burst of laughter. Pretty soon he’s lifted me over his shoulder and carries me to the lookout on the edge. My feet had been through enough, he’d said.
And he was right--it was so worth it; the view with all the stars laid out. The buildings and their light pollution below were blocked out by the outcrops and it made the stars twinkle in all their glory. It made it the perfect place to be with the person I loved.
“Isn’t it the most incredible view?” Harry whispers in awe behind me, his arms wrapping around my waist.
“I.....I have no words apparently,” I laugh and turn in his arms. “Thanks for pushing me, this...it was worth it.”
He tucks a strand of hair behind my ears and gazes at me in a way that makes me want to squirm. But I hold his gaze.
“Do you know how beautiful you are?” he asks with a smile.
“Compared to the view,” I glance behind us. “I guess I’m alright.”
“No,” he guides my face back towards his. “This view over that one, any day. M’just that lucky.”
My words die on my lips as I’m overwhelmed by this feeling between us, the one I thought would keep us together like this forever.
He raises an eyebrow when I go silent and I shrug, “I’m all out of words today.”
I close my eyes as he kisses my temple. I turn back around and we spend the moment in silence, drinking in the view. His friends chatter around us but they’re background noise. My life felt like a movie right now.
Before we leave as a group, I tug Harry back. This was a good as place as any to tell him. I press my lips to his, and it takes him a second but he’s kissing me back. Before it can get carried away I push away and tell him what I’d been thinking all night, “I love you.”
He takes a step back, and then he’s grinning and pulling me back. “I love you! I love you listen, I’ve been wanting to say that for weeks!”
“Weeks?!”
“Yeah weeks! My sister said it was too soon, I might scare you off!”
I think about a few weeks ago, I was intensely shy around him even then. Maybe she was right, but the idea that he talked about me to his sister makes me flush. I wrap my arms around his waist “I just...this moment is so perfect. I never want it to end.”
“It doesn’t have to.” he’d promised. “I’m yours forever Y/N.”
When 8:30 comes and goes I call April, she lets me know where they were. “We’re so happy you’re coming! Are you sure you don’t want us to meet you somewhere else?” she shouts into the phone. When I tell her I just wanted to be where they were she reminds me to text them when I was nearby.
I have to dig into the back of my closet, past the pantsuits I wore to work, the casual dresses and loungewear. I still had some of my old party clothes, just a bit tighter than they used to be. But for where I was going, it would fit in.
Before I leave, I take a pen and scrawl a note: “Great talk"
My friends spot me as I walk in. The music is instantly too loud, the lights too bright, and there are too many people. But one of my them shoves a drink in my hand and pretty soon it’s the best place on earth. It was exactly where I needed to be. I turn off my cellphone and enjoy myself.
After a certain point, I don’t even know who I’m talking to, but pressed up against a body, feeling wanted, it drives me to keep dancing all night. Eventually, I crash at April’s and don’t roll out of hers until 11 the next morning. Harry’s barely an afterthought until I’m tucked in the taxicab taking me home and turn on my phone. 8 missed calls, 2 voicemails and 13 texts.
I’m shocked at the volume, Harry hadn’t blown up my phone like this in over a year. I listen to one voicemail: “Where the hell are you? I come home an hour late and you’re bloody gone with this stupid note here. Pick up! I’ve called you a billion times.”
I stare at my phone, I hadn’t heard Harry this passionate since...well it was a long time. And all it took was going out late and not answering his calls, giving him a taste of his own medicine. It almost makes me angrier; I had to partake in this juvenile dance to get his attention, even though we’d been married nearly 2 years.
He’s on a call when I get home, talking numbers or something. I head directly to the shower, clean up, and take my sweet time. It must’ve driven him mad waiting for me because by the time I’m out he blows a gasket.
“What’s this stunt you pulled last night? Wanting to talk and leaving me a stupid sarcastic note just because I’m late? Where were you?”
“Out,” I shrug. “I didn’t know you were late. You didn’t text.”
“I didn’t tex--oh I see, now we’re being petty yeah?”
That irked me, “I’m not being petty. It’s not like I get the same courtesy when you’re out late!”
“I’m busy, I can’t always be texting you!”
Excuses, I laugh and he looks at me like I’m crazy. “Busy what? Screwing other women-”
“Don’t be making shit up-”
“I’ve had people tell me that they see you with other women Harry! S’not a far stretch!”
That quiets him. Finally, he comes forward to stand inches away. “Y/N, c’mon. You and me...this is stupid. Sure I go out to party but I’m not-”
“Stop.” he was actually trying to talk his way out of this. And because I’d rather step in front of an oncoming train than cry in front of him, I head to the front door and walk out. I’d find someplace to crash today, but I wasn’t doing this.
***
“How’re you doing?” Janelle asks. I’d shown up at her doorstep and she set up her guest bed. She had plans so I spent most of my time burying myself in work, trying to get rid of all that angry energy pent up in me. Janelle had just come home.
“I’m just trying to move on. I don’t want to talk about him, I just don’t care at this point--I’m fed up!”
“As you should be,” she agrees. “Listen, I know we had a crazy night yesterday but I’m going out with some friends today and...maybe it’ll help you?”
I think about the killer headache this morning, but I also remember how good it felt to forget for a bit. I agree. Before I know it, Janelle’s found something that fits me and we’re back at a different club than the night before. Her friends are familiar faces but after a few drinks we’re all best friends. It feels great. Until I spot Harry’s face.
“That’s enough,” his face looms over mine as he pushes away the man I’m up against.
“What the fuck Harry...” I trail off as he pulls me away from the middle of the crowd. I try to pry his hand off but there’s too many people and he’s moving too quickly...and I’ve had a lot of drinks. “Let me go!” I say when we finally step away. We’re in what must be a private room. He seemed familiar with it--of course.
“So just because you heard I’m out and about some nights, you decide to come here and fuck around with random men?”
“Excuse me?” I stare at him, he was out of his mind. “I’m out having fun with my friends! I’m not here because of you.”
“Really? You come to the same place I come to all the time and dance with these strangers? And you’re drunk as fuck!”
“Since when did you care?” I ask. “Just leave me alone. You’ve been doing that perfectly fine the last few months.”
“I’m your bloody husband Y/N, you can’t just-”
“Then act like one!” I shout, and in the muffled quiet of the room with the bass thumping through it rings out. “I don’t need you! And you made it clear you don’t need me. These rings are a fucking joke, here-” I take mine off and throw it at him.
“You don’t mean it-”
“I do.” I give him a level stare, suddenly clear-headed. Maybe I’d process it later, but right now I was finally seeing what he’d become. He deserved to feel how I felt, and quite frankly, I didn’t give a fuck. I flip him with both hands, “Quite frankly Harry, you can suck my d-”
“Harry!” A shrill voice rings out from the entrance that now carries the loud beats of the dance floor, swallowing my words. “Liam told me you were here!”
I glance at the brunette in the doorway and back at him. I couldn’t even muster an eye roll; I had enough.
“Y/N!” Harry calls my name as I walk out.
“No it’s me, Becky?!” she tries to correct him. I can’t help but laugh as I make my way back to my friends with a drink in my hand, feeling free.
***
“Y/N, it’s Harry. I don’t know how it got this shite just please call me back. Just give me five minutes that’s all I n--message deleted”
“He’s moved on to the office phone then?” Janelle asks, her desk was beside mine so she’d heard him as I checked my messages. It was two weeks since that glorious night when I’d dumped Harry’s ass. Although a lot of my things were still at our house, I was just staying in a hotel right now while I figured things out. One thing I knew for sure though, I didn’t want to see him again.
“It’s pretty pathetic,” I say. It was also pathetic how long I’d stayed waiting around for us to be magically fixed. But that was something I was working on getting past.
“You’re glowing without him,” April says from where she’s getting her files together. “Haven’t you got that showing out east?”
“Yeah, oh god is that the time?” I rush to get my files in order. “I’ll catch up with you later-”
“We’re still getting drinks after?”
“Yes, drinks!” I call out as I leave the office and head down to the lobby. I don’t expect Harry there, and I barely have time for him as he comes up to keep my pace.
“Harry, I’ve got somewhere to be please leave me alone.”
“Y/N, wait just please listen to me.”
“No.”
“2 minutes!”
“Not even 1,” I spot my cab out front and head towards it. I’m about to get in but Harry holds the door. “Harry let go I’m going to be late.”
“Just let me talk to you, please!”
I finally look at him and he’s quite a sight. His hair is matted and without it’s usual bounce. He’s got a rough look and a 5 ‘o clock shadow.
“You had plenty of time to talk to me for months, you were too busy at the club. Sorry not sorry,” I tug at the door and he lets go, I don’t spare a backwards glance as we drive away.
One of the showings is successful, I manage to sell the family on the home and we set up a meeting to go over details at my office later in the week. I’ve got a bounce in my step as I return to the office. I tell the girls I’d meet them at the bar as I finalize my papers at the office. My bounce falters when I go head out after 5 to see Harry waiting outside the building.
“Y/N,” he calls out when he sees me. “I’m not going to leave until you talk to me.”
“That’s called stalking,” I say. A few people walking past us turn to glance at him and he notices. He moves to the inside lobby and asks me to follow. With a big sigh I do.
“I know what I did.” he begins.
“Congratulations,” I roll my eyes.
“No wait, I know what I did to you. And sorry can’t cover it. Just let me make it up to you, we have history and-”
“You don’t get it.” I stop his monologue from going any further. “I’m gonna be just fine. Without you. You didn’t care about our history until you couldn’t have me. I don’t know what happened to you Harry, but you’re not the man I fell in love with-”
“I know,” he says, tears of frustration coating his lashes. “I fucked up, I-I didn’t see what I had right in front of me and I just-”
“Let her slip away? Is that the best you can come up with?” I scoff. “You know what Harry? I’m done with this! Boy...bye.”
“Y/N just--” he grabs my arm before I can leave and pushes something cold into my palm. My wedding ring.
“I don’t want this,” I push it back in his hand.
“Please just take it--hold onto it,” he pushes it back into mine and closes my fingers over it. “I can’t...I can’t hold onto it just take it! You don’t even have to think about it-”
“Harry,” I soften my tone. He was desperate and even though some part of me thought it was about time he felt this type of way, my heart hurt a little. I didn’t want him to see that though so I just tuck the ring into the pocket of his button up and pat it. “Goodbye Harry.”
I walk away with my head held high even though he calls out to me. I walk the few blocks to where my friends are waiting and their warm smiles are enough to help me push the memory of Harry’s teary eyes, and the real history we did have once upon a time away. I was done with him, no longer thinking about him.
I just kept telling myself, I was rare like a gem and I had to see that. And maybe one day, someone else will too.
174 notes · View notes
wkemeup · 4 years ago
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Losing Riley
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summary: Before she met Bucky, Y/n’s world was shattered. Sam was the common thread that helped her pick up the pieces again.  pairings: riley x reader, hinted future bucky x reader warnings: character death, grief  🧡 series masterlist / series playlist
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You woke to cold sheets. A hand slid over to the left side of an empty bed and your heart clenched. The startling realization settled in each morning as the distant glow of the sunrise peered through the curtains – Riley was still an ocean away and you were still emphatically alone. 
But you were determined to make the most of the day, even if Riley wasn’t there to spend it with you. It was his mother’s birthday whether he was stateside or not and you were insistent not to let the ocean waters sweep you under in his absence. So, you pressed on a smile and dragged your feet to the bathroom to tame your hair and dry your eyes. His family would be expecting you and one of your homemade cakes by the evening.  
You dared a glance at yourself in the mirror, clad only in the US Air Force t-shirt Riley had left behind. It was rich in army green color and the logo stood bright against your chest. You wondered how much wear the shirt could handle before it started to fade. It had lost Riley’s scent after you’d worn it for a week straight, the lingering glimpses of his presence dimming night by night. You could only hope it wouldn’t shrink in the wash.  
You spent the day perfecting the cake his parents had grown to crave; three-tiered and coated in layers of chocolate frosting. Billy Joel sang on the radio and you mumbled your way through the verses of We Didn’t Start the Fire to distract yourself from imagining Riley seated at the countertop, watching you with love struck smirk on his face and a dab of frosting at the corner of his lips. The book on the counter held a gentle layer of flour on the pages. It kept you company until the timer rang.  
The dress you wore was one you’d purchased with the intent to wear for a date night when Riley came home after his first tour. Though it was red in color, it was not striking or bold – instead, it was soft, almost muted, and it carried a sort of gentle effervescence to it. Modest but charming. You’d hoped it would make him smile. You hadn’t counted on how the war stealing his ability to do so.  
It was the first time you wore the dress since you bought it. Maybe you’d ask his mother to take a picture of you with the cake to send to him. He might like that. He seemed to be himself more when he was away than when he was home in your arms these days.  
You had the cab drop you at the end of the driveway. It was long enough to catch the glow of Christmas lights still draped around the trees outside and hidden under layers of snow, despite the fact that it was well into January. The suburbs were so quiet compared to the city; you’d forgotten how much you enjoyed spending time at his parent’s house. They’d welcomed you to their table, even in the months Riley was overseas. It was a burden you shared together – to be left behind.  
You’d only made it halfway up the driveway when you noticed the two men standing at the porch. They were dressed in formal uniforms, white hats held down by their hearts. You hadn’t realized you’d stopped moving until the snow started to soak into your shoes. It piled on the pointed toes of your heels.  
Riley’s mother stood in the open-door way, a vacant look upon her face. Her husband was at her side, shaking his head as he struggled to grab onto his wife before she let out a wail that echoed so painfully, birds scattered from nearby trees.  
Her knees gave way from under her as she fell to the ground in sobs. The two men in uniform did their best to comfort her, only to be shoved away. They stood back and watched a mother grieve her only son at a respectful distance. 
“Y/n?” 
Your hands were shaking. The cake tray had slipped from your fingers and fell into the snow. A mess of sweet chocolate amongst pavement and ice. The voice called your name again, concerned, frantic, and you could only vaguely make out a blurred figure racing towards you.  
Everything around you tunneled, your knees weakening as you struggled to fight against the ice under your heels and the weight suddenly barreling down on your shoulders. All you could hear was the screams of Riley’s mother as she held onto her husband, unable to move from the comfort of the ground.  
“Y/n, come with me,” the voice eased and you looked up to find Sam Wilson standing a few paces ahead of you dressed in his formal Air Force blues, gold wings on his shoulder and a series of colorful pins on his left breast. He held out a hand to you. 
“Let’s go inside, okay?” he tried again but you shook your head, eyes darting back to Riley’s mother.  
You tried to take in another breath but found it shallow, as if your lungs had collapsed beside your heart in mutual surrender.  
“You’re having a panic attack,” Sam told you calmly. “I need you to listen to me, okay? Focus on my voice.” 
You nodded quickly, tears burning in your eyes, though you couldn’t tell if it was from the shattered remains in your chest or the light headedness pulling your vision under. Sam bent down and grabbed a handful of snow. 
“Here. Feel this,” he ordered evenly, placing the snow in your bare hand. He stepped back, shaking out his gloves. “It’s cold, right?” 
Yes, you tried to say though the word didn’t quite leave your lips. It stung, but there was a comfort in it. You watched as it melted in your palm, your skin burning from where it had been.  
“Smells like Christmas trees out here, doesn’t it?” Sam added, taking in a deep breath. He smiled. “Reminds me of the tree farms I used to go to with my dad every year growing up.” 
You followed his lead, taking in as much of a breath as your body would allow. He was right, it did smell like pines. Riley’s family planted a few along their property line because his mother loved Christmas so much. It smelled like Fraser and Balsam Fir all year round.  
You concentrated on the smell of the trees, the chocolate that had scattered into the snow in clumps of frosting and cake; the sound of Sam’s voice, of Riley’s mother’s cries; the feel of the chill on your skin and the snow in your hand. You focused until you could draw in a full breath enough to make sense of the destruction around you. 
“He’s dead, isn’t he?” you asked, voice trembling on the verge of tears.  
Sam’s shoulders fell, a terrible longing pressed over his features. “I’m so sorry, Y/n.” 
Despite your efforts, your knees buckled in mirror to Riley’s mother. Sam caught you before you could hit the ground, his arms encasing around you as your body fought the violent tremors shaking through you. You cried against his jacket, as the snow built upon your shoulders and wet your hair. You cried until there was little else your body could give. 
*** 
You barely remembered the funeral.  
A folded flag had been placed in the lap of Riley’s mother as she sobbed. A casket had been lowered into the ground. Guns fired in salute and you flinched at each one as they echoed against the stormy grey skies. Sam held your hand through the entire ceremony, squeezing it hard enough to leave a mark when it looked like you were teetering on the edge of an endless void. He stayed on your couch that night and pretended not to hear as you cried yourself to sleep. 
There was an emptiness that took hold of you when Riley left for his first tour, but there was still a lingering hope. You’d managed to hold onto the image of a man at war and his woman waiting for him to return. He wrote often and you kept each letter in a shoe box under the bed. It was a script of a movie you’d learned to follow – the scraps of love you could grasp from the shores of the Atlantic.  
When he came home, he was hollow. He wasn’t the man you’d kissed goodbye with a cheesy, hopeful grin on his face. He’d lost the spark behind his eye and the glow in his skin. He became withdrawn and angry; lashing out when you reached to him with an anchor in your hand as if he favored the unforgiving currents pulling him under.  
The time you spent with him before he left again hurt worse than when he was gone. He longed for the sky like a bird with a broken wing. It was within reach, so close and so impossibly far from his grasp. He pushed you away, convinced you would never understand the resentment he carried towards civilian life and the utter inability to conform to it.  
Perhaps he was right. You’d shouted it yourself one night until you were both hoarse and in tears. You would never understand, but it didn’t mean you couldn’t try, that you didn’t love him any less.  
You’d seen the way the war had hurt him. It shoved nightmares to his dreams and panic in his veins. It made him hypervigilant and paranoid. It isolated him from his friends and family. It made him feel like a monster in the skin of a man, pretending to be someone he wasn’t; smiling through aching muscles as if he were a portrait hanging in a museum.  
He pretended to be fine. He pretended to try. He never was.  
It didn’t surprise you the day he told you he was going back.  
Still – you begged. Despite the tears, the months of heartache and panic attacks and night terrors, you were desperate for him to stay. You were desperate to rebuild what the war had broken between you. You loved him and it wasn’t enough.  
After he left, you tried to pretend as he did – that everything was fine, that you didn’t feel an ache in your chest at the thought of him, that you were a woman waiting on your soldier to return home.  
He was more himself when he called. He became the Riley you remembered in the beginning; full of hope and eager to prove himself. He smiled often and laughed as his friends teased him for the blush in his cheeks when you appeared on the screen. It was those moments that encouraged you to hang on, that reminded you why he was worth the pain and heartache.  
Those moments gave you hope that this time would be different. When Riley came home, the two of you would be just fine. The soldier and his girl.  
Always optimistic. Always sunny. Always finding silver linings. 
You should have known better than that.  
*** 
Mrs. Jefferson was surprised the day you showed up at work dressed in shades of grey and black, returning the piles of books you had yet to read.  
“You should go home, dear,” she eased, slipping the glasses from the bridge of her nose to rest on the beads against her chest. “It’s too soon for you to be at work.” 
“I’m fine,” you mumbled. You didn’t put much effort into the lie but you couldn’t stand to be in your apartment another second longer. It was too quiet, too empty. You’d never lived with Riley but his things were scattered around your place. The Air Force shirt sat crumbled at the foot of your bed.  
“Honey, you forget that I know what you are going through,” Mrs. Jefferson sighed, placing a trembling hand over yours. You paused. “Be patient with yourself. Have kindness for the man you lost. You’ll see the sun again, my dear. I promise.” 
You didn’t know whether it was the tenderness in her words or the way her aged hand curled around yours that broke you. Tears blurred over your eyes and you sank into her embrace as she drew circles against your spine. If the visitors noticed your grief, they did not say anything. For that, you were grateful.  
*** 
It took time before you could think of Riley without crying. Months, maybe, but it was progress. Sam stopped by daily in the beginning, showing up with coffee and donuts from Luciana’s and forcing you to get out of bed just to open the door for him before he woke the neighbors. You’d come to expect him and started to ready yourself before he arrived.  
He swung by after work some days with takeout and some weekends he dragged you to his friend Steve’s house where they watched football and you filled your stomach with nachos and buffalo chicken dip.  
He taught you to smile again despite yourself because Sam was infectious no matter how deep the void you’d caged yourself in. It was impossible not to return his smile, impossible not to try for a man who so genuinely wanted you to succeed. He was Riley’s partner and he knew Riley on a level not even you had seen. Sam grieved different than you did, but he grieved nonetheless. It was something you shared in. Something you overcame together, too.  
The day he brought you to the VA, you’d dragged your feet the whole way.  
“Trust me, kid,” Sam urged, yanking your hand along the sidewalk, but you planted your feet. Sam rolled his eyes. “Do it for Riley.” 
Your jaw dropped, though Sam started to smirk. “Don’t evoke Riley’s name to guilt me into working for the people who took him from us, Sam!”  
“I’m guilting you into volunteering. Let’s make that clear,” Sam retorted. “I’m not paying you shit.” 
You laughed despite the frown on your face.  
“Second, these guys aren’t the big shots who sit in their cozy offices while our boots on the ground see the real fight,” Sam said, squeezing your hand. He wasn’t teasing anymore. His smile was genuine as his features softened, a sad sort of memory on his mind. “They’re guys like Riley, Y/n. Guys who could use the help he should have had.” 
Your lips parted, unable to come up with an excuse to say next. You thought of Riley curled up on the floor with his hands pressed over his ears as fireworks lit up the sky on New Year’s Eve. You thought of the dark circles under his eyes from sleepless dreams and the toll it took on your relationship. You thought of the shame he felt for pushing you away, for being unable to stop himself from hurting you, too.  
You shook your head. “I don’t know if I’m strong enough for that, Sam.” 
“Just come with me to the open house,” Sam tried, tugging on your hand and this time, you let him drag you a few steps. “If it’s too much, I won’t push it again...” he bit his lip, “until next year.” 
“Fine!” you laughed, falling in stride with him as he fist pumped the air in victory. “I don’t know how Riley put up with you for so long.” 
“With much reluctance,” Sam snickered. 
It felt nice to be able to talk about Riley without it hurting. It still ached, but it was a pleasant ache – like maybe remembering him didn’t have to be a bad thing, like maybe it could bring you a little joy, too.  
Sam brought you into his office first to draw you away from the crowds. It gave you a chance to take off your coat and ease yourself into the surroundings before Sam inevitably threw a handful of strangers on you with terrible stories and sad faces to convince you to stay.  
“I just gotta find a file for Steve and we can head out to the main room, alright?”  
You nodded, taking the time to look around Sam’s office. It wasn’t anything like you’d pictured it to be. You’d expected it to be in chaos – disorganized, with papers stacked high on the desk and a basketball hoop hanging over the trash bin – but it was rather professional. He had awards framed on the wall, metals encased in glass. File cabinets labeled and not a pen out of place.  
But it was the photo sitting on his desk that drew your attention. You picked it up, recognizing Sam at the center in his Air Force uniform and a younger, more doe-eyed Steve Rogers who stood beside him dressed in army greens. But there was a third man hanging off Sam’s left shoulder you didn’t know. 
He was handsome. Smile bright enough to rival even that of Sam’s. With short, brown hair and eyes as blue as you’d ever seen, you wondered whether his face might be one you’d see out in the crowd of veterans gathered in the lobby.  
“That’s Bucky,” Sam grinned, pointing to the man in the photo. “He’s still out on tour.” 
You handed Sam the picture, tucking your hair behind your ear nervously, and he seemed to enjoy how flustered you were.  
“He’s scheduled to be home next year though,” Sam added, studying for your reaction. “I’ll see if I can get him to swing by if... you know... you’re volunteering here.”  
You glared at Sam until he broke into laughter.  
“Come on, I’ll introduce you to the regulars,” Sam grinned, grabbing your hand and dragging you out into the crowd in the lobby.  
You knew before Steve’s presentation on the services at the VA even began that Sam had tied your heart with string to this building and the people in it. You saw Riley’s face in everyone who shook your hand – from the petite, red headed woman with a questionable background and kind eyes to the son of a billionaire who had joined the Air Force in rebellion and found he rather liked being just ‘one of the guys.’ 
It was as if you could feel a hand on your back, urging you forward, into the arms of these people and the compassion they could give to you. You wondered if Sam knew that it would be as much a kindness to you as you could be for them, to be able to give your time to this place. Ideas began to spring in your mind of how you could bring your love of books to your work here and how much you’d missed reading yourself. 
Maybe this place could heal you, too.  
It took a single glance from Sam across the room to know he’d convinced you. He smiled, raising a glass of cheap red wine, and nodded. It was the first time in months you’d felt a glimmer of hope, a reason to be excited, a possibility for good amongst the broken.  
You clung onto it with everything you had.  
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chosonore · 4 years ago
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part two | yearning
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yearning [noun. a strong feeling of wishing for something, especially something that you cannot have or get easily]
pairing: kamo noritoshi/f!reader
summary: your relationship with noritoshi was like a game of cat and mouse; no matter how hard you tried to escape from him, he would always find his way back to you.
wordcount: 8.2k
content/warnings: friends to enemies to lovers, language, somewhat suggestive, noritoshi is kind of a dick but i promise it gets better so please don’t lose faith in him, we’re somewhat following the timeline of the anime/manga so spoilers ahead!! but what follows afterwards is purely pulled out of my ass lol, lowercase intended [UNEDITED]
a/n: hello, here i am again with a super long chapter ( ˙꒳​˙ ) it is so incredibly messy and i’m so sorry if it gets confusing for you; this just really shows how sporadic my writing process is, i have some guidelines that i follow but sometimes venture off my path when i suddenly get a new idea. nevertheless, i hope you can somewhat enjoy this chapter. feedback or just your thoughts are much appreciated! for those that are waiting for the ~steamy~ content, it is coming next chapter hehe. as always, stay safe everyone (´。• ᵕ •。`)
previous - masterlist - next
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"noritoshi, could you just stay quiet today? i'm really not in the mood," you sighed as you entered the training grounds. the exhaustion from the mission the day before was clinging onto your bones, heavy and admonishingly. the normally exciting sparring lessons seemed dreadful, knowing that all students were to practice today. to practice the balance within the team, utahime had claimed the week prior as she was reprimanding your lack of discipline when it came to noritoshi. stubbornness ran in the family; you refused to back down when someone was hurting your pride. said stubbornness came back to bite you - instead of taking a break to fully recover, you claimed that you would be fine with the help of your reverse curse techniques.
as the days came and went, the yearly tournament slowly approached. after the devastating defeat last year, everyone was on edge and determined to beat tokyo tech. well, that excluded todo, he was just looking for stronger opponents it seemed. noritoshi, on other hand, appeared to be more agitated than usual - if he wasn't barking orders at the other students, he would criticize their fighting styles. you knew he wanted to win the tournament at all costs, to prove himself worthy of the position as the kamo clan head. but he was too rigid about it, rarely accepting help and haughty when questioned. you've been avoiding him as best as you could and of all days, today had to be one where you could not. opponents would be swapped every ten minutes so everyone could practice with another student - facing noritoshi for ten minutes was easy. so you thought. 
"can't promise anything, princess," noritoshi retorted smugly and pat your head like he usually did when he was trying to get a reaction out of you. life always found a way to prove you wrong. for some reason, noritoshi had made it his goal to get under your skin as much as possible on this particular day and it worked. it was childish to engage in this banter but you couldn’t help it. the feeling of not being taken serious by noritoshi had always bothered you. it almost seemed like he wasn’t considering you equal to him, always looking down on you. being stressed wasn’t good, your mother had always reminded you, so it was best to remain calm and collected.
stay calm and collected, calm and collected, you repeated in your head. gritting your teeth, you slapped his hand away and jogged away from him towards todo. at least he'd leave you alone while you were near todo - probably to avoid todo getting mad at him and not wanting to hear about takada-chan again. he was the ultimate and fool-proof shield. the taller male was walking at a leisurely pace in front of you, leading the group as per usual. you caught up to him, slowing down so it didn't look like you just jogged all the way here. away from the menace that was noritoshi. todo glanced at you suspiciously before subtly turning around. a guilty groan left your lips. of course he knew, he always knew. as the unlikely friendship was blossoming between the two of you, you rapidly realized that todo was far more perceptive than he would ever let on. even though he took lighthearted jabs at you, he didn't care enough to intervene; it was a mutual understanding. in a way, you appreciated that he treated you like everyone else, not once had he tried to approach you about your deteriorating relationship with noritoshi.
upon seeing the unlikely pair, miwa speed up as well to join them. even though todo scared her to no end, your presence eased her nerves a little. after all, you weren’t scared to put him back in his place when he was being dramatic. she nudged you gently in greeting, nervously clasping her sword in front of her. "do you think we'll win this year's competition? we've been training a lot, so i hope i can show off some of my skills."
"never say never? even if we lose, it's a good experience to learn from," you replied wryly. while the students of the kyoto tech were strong and coordinated well with each other, noritoshi and you could easily destroy the balance. he didn't know when to stop, persistently pushing your boundaries and you fell for his tricks every time. as long as you could work out a strategy that involved working alone or with a partner that was not him, you'd be fine. your safest bet was to work with miwa since you were both sword users and have practiced together extensively. if noritoshi and you exhibited enough chaos to tear the world apart, miwa and you represented the perfect balance when fighting.
"you're our secret weapon though!" miwa exclaimed excitedly, elbowing you gently. "no one knows you can heal, so we'll use that to our advantage."
"uh…"
"what? don't tell me you-"
"i've asked yuta about advice before," you interrupted her, scratching your head sheepishly. "he's one of the very few people who can use reverse cursed techniques, so i asked him to give me some pointers and how to use it more to my advantage."
when yuta participated in the competition the year before, you were absolutely mesmerized by his level of skills and how he had supposedly mastered them in such a short amount of time. of course you hadn't told anyone that you were talking to him - everyone was still salty about the defeat and would, undoubtedly, have crucified you on sight. truthfully, you didn't understand why everyone was so hellbent about hating the students of your sister school. weren't you all colleagues in a sense? yuta was nice and respectful towards you, always trying his best to explain you how to implement his tips. along the way, you might have developed a tiny, fleeting crush on him but never acted on it. it was only a crush after all and you didn’t feel certain about it not being a mere distraction from your feelings for noritoshi. perhaps it was the way he made you feel, the way he treated you like noritoshi used to before. you couldn't even deny it, you missed your old 'toshi. when you looked at him now, it hurt you, seeing all the traces of gentleness having left him.
"really? you never told me! what is he like? he looked like he was really nice but there were moments where i was really scared of him. well maybe not him but rather… that curse."
"uh, yuta is actually not that scary. he's really helpful and always there for you when you need advice. i think i've improved a lot since we've started talking." you made a mental note to thank yuta again if you got to see each other anytime soon. apparently, gojo had sent him on a mission overseas a few months back and ever since, your exchanged messages grew to be rather sporadic. still, you appreciated that he made an effort to text you every now and then to let you know how he was doing and in turn, also asked about your wellbeing.
"fraternizing with the enemy, i see," noritoshi's voice rang out beside you, dangerously close to your ear. it made you jump in surprise, not having sensed him earlier - your hand automatically shot out to hit him, only for him to catch it in time. you shot him an annoyed glare. beside you, miwa and todo glanced at each other, silently agreeing to ignore the squarreling pair.
"i don't see how that's any of your business."
"it is if it jeopardizes our chance at winning," noritoshi narrowed eyes at you in suspicion. of course he didn't trust you, you were nothing but a mild inconvenience to him. you didn't owe him an explanation, not today and not in the future. any friendship or friendliness between you was long gone. refusing to look into his eyes, you attempted to tug your hand away from him but instead accomplished the exact opposite as noritosh tightened his grip. "what did you tell him?"
"he only helped me with training, that's all! it doesn't concern you anyways so-"
noritoshi was irritated, you could tell. the anger was rolling off him in waves, intimidating even you. why was he so annoyed by the fact that you asked yuta for advice? it wasn't even farfetched - the only other alternatives were gojo and ieiri, both of which you hadn't mustered up the courage to ask yet. wasn't it in everyone's best interest for you to become a great healer? noritoshi would know best - he was the driving force behind your ambition, the sole reason why you worked to the brink of exhaustion just to show him that you didn’t need his help, that you were worthy of a higher rank.
"i don't want you to hang out with the tokyo tech kids, especially not with him."
"wait, what?" you gaped at him in disbelief. "is this just because you have personal beef with some of them? leave me out of this, i just want to improve and you don't get to tell me what to do." with that you shoved the taller male, stomping past the other students towards utahime who was looking at you in disapproval. you missed the upset frown on noritoshi's face as he followed you, wanting to reach out but stopping midway. it wasn't the right time or place to let you know why he didn't want you around them, not yet. seeing you hang out and being relaxed with everyone else but him hurt him, oh how it hurt him. he wanted you close to him, only see him, talk about him excitedly and with stars in your eyes like you did when you talked about yuta. and yet, he couldn't let you know. the only way to keep you orbiting around him was to play these silly games, rile you up and drawing a reaction out of you. it was the only way to make you pay attention to him. and so he did.
calm and collected, my ass, you thought two hours later. of course todo and noritoshi had completely eviscerated the rest of the students with no mercy, leaving everyone in a sour mood. whatever strategy your team would have for the tournament was probably thrown out the window, the two of them would take care of it anyways. not that they would stand a chance against yuta.
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“yuta isn’t here?” the disappointment in your voice was palpable. you did look forward to meeting yuta again, thinking that he might have come home from his overseas trip for the tournament. but you supposed getting to know the other students wasn’t too bad, you were interested in the first years and their skills. they certainly looked more approachable than your classmates. miwa told you how todo and mai had met two of them a few weeks prior and promptly started a senseless fight that was then stopped by the second years. it landed them in the water as utahime gave them a lecture - while she didn't tolerate the childish behaviour, everyone else seemed to turn a blind eye to it. noritoshi had scoffed in disapproval upon hearing the news, uttering something about not wanting to associate with dimwits like them. 
"nope, he's still overseas. it doesn't matter anyways, we'll still beat you without him," maki replied with a confident grin, arms crossed as she took in the kyoto tech group of students. regardless, you broke out in a sprint and jumped, engulfing her in a warm hug. while you two didn't talk as much as yuta and you did, you were still friends. she was a source of inspiration to you, a master of all kinds of weapons whom you deeply admired. maki gave you some awkward pats before pulling away to introduce you to the first years - megumi, yuji and nobara. the younger students were wary of you, most likely because of their encounter with todo and mai. you couldn't hold it against them, their intensity and stubbornness was something you had to deal with daily after all. you silently cursed the two brash students before taking a deep breath and extending your hand to the ones in front of you.
“hi, i’m y/n, nice to meet you,” you introduced yourself with a friendly smile, visibly relieved when they shook your hand and introduced themselves. especially nobara seemed to be eager to get to know you, fussing over your uniform and inquiring about your skills. you were glad they welcomed you, not wanting to cause any more trouble than would undoubtedly arise for the duration of the tournament. while megumi seemed to be cautious and more reserved around you, yuuji and nobara already treated you like their friend. subconsciously, you envied them for the wholesome friendship dynamic as it reminded you of what you used to have with noritoshi. the fleeting thoughts left as soon as they made an appearance in your head, disappearing when nobara grasped your hand and pulled you towards the buildings to show you around. unbothered by the reactions of your fellow kyoto tech classmates, you followed her - their energy was stifling and the tournament didn't start until later in the day anyways. it was useless to stay with your group and practice, you'd only overexert yourself.
“y/n.” noritoshi called after you sternly, glaring at you when you turned to look at him - ever since stepping foot into the estate, he was moody and more serious than usual.  it was probably him being tense about the tournament, the spirit to win deeply ingrained in his bones. none of the other students seemed to be bothered by the presence of the tokyo tech students, so why should he? ignoring him, you continued your journey until you felt a force harshly pulling you back by the fabric of your hoodie. intuitively, you could tell it was noritoshi. 
"noritoshi, let me go," you snapped at him irritated, struggling to free yourself from his grasp.
"we have things to discuss, did you forget that?"
"i don't want to," like a petulant child, you gave him an angry look as you stood your ground. tension filled the space between you, tethering on the edge of anger. why was a normal conversation never possible with him? and why did he treat you like a child? you let up when megumi appeared to your side, shooting noritoshi a warning glance as he attempted to remove his hand from yours. even though he didn't know what your relationship was like, he stepped in regardless - you were impressed by him. even if noritoshi remained calm, he was a menace to deal with afterwards.
"she said no, didn't you hear-"
"get your hands off of her." noritoshi growled at megumi, the sudden influx of cursed energy that was surrounding him made all students in close proximity freeze. you couldn't hide you shock either, he had never been this threatening towards someone else. he might push boundaries to the extreme, knowing that he could away with it due to his bloodline and family name but he had never outright threatened anyone that didn't do his bidding. with those words he pulled you towards him, wrapping his arm around your waist protectively. paralyzed, you blankly stared at him. his cursed energy was suffocating you, never had you experienced this amount of pressure. not only that, the unusual closeness set your heart ablaze, burning down the walls that you'd carefully constructed around it.
"you're being ridiculous," megumi challenged the older male, unbothered by the strong pressure. he didn't understand why noritoshi was making a big deal out of this. surely he didn't consider megumi a threat? noritoshi's hold on you strengthened and with panic you realized the blood-red markings appearing on his face, he was being serious, oh god he was going to rip megumi apart-
"hey hey, stop it you two," panda's voice snapped you out of your trance and seemingly noritoshi's as well as he wacked his arm. "you just got here and you're already stirring up trouble, are you not ashamed?"
noritoshi simply scoffed and let you go, his cursed energy dissipating with the movement. the rest of the students were as stunned as you were, no one daring to make another move until the tension evaporated. todo was the only one who looked rather annoyed, smacking the back of noritoshi’s head as he started to tell him off - noritoshi, however, kept walking past him towards the dorms that they were staying at for the week. it was almost like there was steam coming off his head as a result of holding his anger in. nobara gaped at you in surprise, pointing at you accusingly. “i didn’t know that was your boyfriend!”
you spluttered in horror, quickly reaching out to her to try and cover her mouth so she wouldn’t say anything incriminating. “n- no you got it wrong! we’re not together, not at all! i hate noritoshi,” you floundered, hastily trying to set the record straight. nobara didn’t look like she believed you, pushing your hands away while giggling. she wiggled her eyebrows at you, whispering at you about how lucky you were to snag such a handsome guy although she thought that he really didn’t have to overreact like that because megumi was harmless. covering your face in embarrassment, you turned away from her and caught a glimpse of an amused todo winking at you.
“i’m serious, nobara!" whatever whining you did, the two of them didn’t let up, making you wonder what you ever did wrong to deserve this scrutiny. as your last resort you grabbed nobara's hand, dragging her along towards a secluded area in the estate. being the subject of the earlier conflict was already troubling enough, you didn't want the other students to get the wrong idea by her wild speculations. nobara was still giggling when you arrived, pinching your arm playfully.
“c’mon, it’s impossible that there is not something between you! did you see the look on his face? i don’t think he would have cared had it been any other person,” she gushed excitedly, her face lighting up in glee. with no doubt, nobara enjoyed poking her nose in other people's business, seemingly having a knack for sniffing out the hidden. a dejected sigh left your lip. a younger you would have jumped in happiness after finally receiving noritoshi's attention but the present you knew better. there wasn't more to it, you told yourself and yet, a tiny sliver of doubt made its way into your mind. could he really have been so bothered by another male being so close to you? todo didn't count, obviously.
"no, there's nothing to it, i promise. we don't have the best relationship anymore and mostly fight. i mean yeah his reaction was really uncharacteristic but…"
"anymore?"
"noritoshi and me grew up together and were childhood friends. i- i didn't agree with his antics as we grew up and we drifted apart after that and now… hate each other? he’s just unbearable and we don’t get along. everyone at kyoto tech knows that so they’re mostly ignoring our fights. and it’s childish, i know, i know..." 
“are you sure? like super duper sure? because it didn’t look like it to me,” nobara contemplatively rubbed her chin. the wheels were turning in her head, something didn’t quite add up. even at first glance, whatever you said made her feel doubtful.
“trust me, i wish it was different too. i mean i used to like him a lot and it makes me sad and i wish we could at least be civil around each other. but he just makes me so angry,” your ramblings stopped nobara’s thinking - so that’s what it was. normally, nobara really didn’t care about other people’s business but this was too juicy to pass up. how far could she push it to make you realize?
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why was the layout of all these buildings so confusing? and why were there so many buildings to begin with? you’ve been wandering around for at least five minutes now and you still couldn’t figure out where the hell yuji’s and megumi’s rooms were supposed to be. they didn’t even have any signs around. at this point, it didn’t matter if it took longer than anticipated - the others could wait. nobara had insisted on having a small get together the night before, to get to know each other and play some card games. you couldn’t refuse, it’s been a while since you just hung out with friends without any quarreling. there was no harm in getting to know you future colleagues, even though your classmates were treating them like criminals. so instead of going herself and much to your dismay, nobara had sent you to fetch the other two students, claiming that you would be fine if you just stuck to the measly sketch she’d made for you. most of the rooms you’ve already knocked at remained empty so you couldn’t be far from their rooms, you concluded.
stopping in front of the last remaining door of the corridor, you took a deep breath. this had to be one of their rooms. slowly, you raised your hand to knock at the door when it was suddenly yanked open, startling you in the process and making you drop the piece of paper you were holding. what you weren’t expecting was coming face to face with noritoshi who looked at you as equally confused. he was the last person you wanted to see today, not wanting to confront him about his actions earlier. you couldn’t wrap your head around it; why had he overreacted in such a way? it wasn’t like you were in danger or in need of protection. for a brief moment, you thought that there was a sliver of strange possessiveness. you couldn’t quite place the emotions in his eyes, it made you shudder.
“oh uh, sorry. i was looking for yuji and megumi and this is very obviously not one of their rooms. sorry again. i’ll take my leave,” you awkwardly stammered, taking a step back. noritoshi’s figure was towering over you and in a rare moment, you felt intimidated by him. perhaps it was the dark look in his eyes that told you that he was not thrilled by what you just told him. before you could react, he swiftly grabbed your arm and pulled you inside his room, trapping you against the door.
“w- wait!” you protested weakly, pushing at his chest until his face slowly came into your vision. you couldn’t help but stare at his lips, watching them move as he was talking to you. your ears were ringing, you couldn’t tell what he was saying. the close proximity was suffocating and yet you craved more, not wanting to let him go.
“y/n? did you hear me?” 
“huh?” snapping out of your trance, you looked at him dumbfounded. noritoshi was frowning at you, slightly concerned about your state as you didn’t answer him. just then you finally got a proper look at him. it was a rare sight; noritoshi wearing casual clothes, a simple oversized shirt and shorts, and his hair down without the bindings. feeling nostalgic, your heart clenched. he looked like his old self, the ‘toshi that you loved dearly.
“i said, i don’t want you around them. i don’t- i don’t like seeing you with them,” noritoshi repeated with a strained voice. he placed his hands beside your head, inching closer to you.
“what- noritoshi, you don’t get to tell me who i can hang out with! last time i checked, we’re not even friends anymore so where do you get the idea that you can do this? what’s the big deal ab-” you didn’t get to finish your sentence when he pressed his lips against yours clumsily. you seized up in shock, not returning the kiss as a whirlwind of thoughts entered your mind. holy shit, he was really kissing you. but you hated each other, so why? why, why, why. when you didn’t respond, noritoshi pulled away in panic, spluttering apologies as he moved away from you. your emotional world was in chaos, all the buried and forgotten feelings for him breaking the dams and flooding your senses until the yearning became too much. you were reminded of the conversation you had with your mother years ago - you still wanted him, missed him. you wanted him by your side. desperately, you reached out, fisting the fabric of his shirt as you leaned up to kiss him. noritoshi caught you in his arms, wrapping them around you as he fervently returned the kiss. he was holding you like he was afraid you would dissipate into thin air, frantically pulling you in. his hands were roaming, discovering the expanse of your body.
his touches left you feeling delirious, high on pleasure. a mewl left your lips, pleading him for something, for more. your hands moved higher, feeling his chest and broad shoulders before you wrapped your arms around his neck. his name left your lips in breathy sighs as he peppered kisses down your jaw, pulling the collar of your shirt to the side to gain more access to the expanse of your neck. suddenly, you were hoisted up and pressed against the door as noritoshi held you by your thighs. you struggled to wrap your legs around his waist, to distracted by his relentless ministrations. by the time he's left multiple hickeys on your neck, you were whimpering mess. noritoshi's breath was taken away at the sight of you in his arms, lips swollen from the kisses, the glossy eyes, dishevelled hair and the hickeys that were slowly becoming more visible. he couldn't understand how carelessly you were letting him proceed when you supposedly harboured a strong dislike for him. nevertheless, he enjoyed it and wanted to savour the moment, ingrain it into his memory so he'd never forget why he was treating you like a nuisance.
a loud knock resounded from the door, followed by someone shouting: "noritoshi? has y/n been here?"
out of sheer shock, you shoved noritoshi away from you and nearly fell as you attempted to detangle yourself from him. he caught you in time, signalling you to stay quiet as the person outside was still shuffling around nervously. you slumped against him limply, letting your head rest against his chest. his heart was beating erratically. it made yours fill with pride as you could tell that you had the same effect on him as he did on you. still, the precarious situation suddenly dawned on you - you'd just made out with your sworn enemy and, yes you used to have a crush on him, enjoyed it very much. and by the looks of it, he would have continued if you hadn't pushed him away. the entire ordeal greatly confused you; was noritoshi just playing around with you? it couldn't be, he had initiated it after all. the cold treatment he usually gave you didn't match with his actions just now. you couldn't get close to him, not when he gave you mixed signals. you wanted someone who cherished you and was always sincere so you wouldn't have to second guess their actions.
"huh, i guess noritoshi's already sleeping. we'll have to check somewhere else, i hope she didn't get lost," the person outside mumbled as you stayed silent. the sound of shuffling was heard, then steps away from the room. you stayed put until you were sure they were gone and gently removed yourself from noritoshi's grip, not looking him in the eyes. he didn’t move, letting you go willingly.
“i’m sorry, i don’t know what came over me,” you apologized with a pained voice. “please forget that it ever happened and uhm, please don’t tell anyone.”
noritoshi’s eyes widened at your pleas, moving to stop you from leaving so he could explain himself to you. “y/n, wait, i can ex-”
hastily, you stumbled to open the door, dashing away from him until the building was out of your sight. you poorly hid behind a tree, sinking to your knees as you buried your face in your hands. what the hell. you just made out with your childhood friend turned enemy. your buried feelings were all over the place and your mind just couldn’t stay still. it messed with your outlook as well as your image of noritoshi, distorting and twisting it until you had to rethink your relationship. maybe all this time, you subconsciously hoped that he would return back to his old self and somehow give you an explanation. never having received closure on the end of your friendship, you would even forgive him for the sake of your relationship. were you this shallow? no, you simply harboured a lot of feelings for him. you weren’t able to tell what his thought process was - was he even interested in you? did he see you like that?
“there you are,” you lifted your head to see gojo walking towards you with his hands stuffed inside the pockets of his pants. you almost didn’t recognize him as he simply wore a pair of sunglasses and let his hair down. “the others are looking for you. what are you doing out here? trouble in paradise?”
“n-no! i just needed some time away from everyone to- to catch my breath,” you exclaimed indignantly and perhaps too hastily you realized when gojo smirked at you knowingly. why did everyone assume that there was anything between noritoshi and you? was it that obvious?
“uh huh. that’s not what your neck says,” gojo pointed out while wiggling his eyebrows and offered you a hand to stand up. “he really doesn’t like any competition.”
“fuck,” you cursed quietly, covering the hickeys with one hand while taking gojo’s with your other and pulling yourself up. it was embarrassing enough to meet one of the teachers like this but it was even more embarrassing to know that your teacher had seen the aftermath of your makeout session. 
“i’m not gonna tell anyone, if that’s what you’re concerned about. although it would certainly be funny to tease little noritoshi,” gojo was giggling and you knew he was greatly amused by the entire situation. it almost reminded you of nobara. you groaned in frustration as you trailed behind him towards the girls’ dorms. you needed to hide your neck so no one would question it or grill you until you confessed; the potential embarrassment was mortifying.
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your group strategy was already falling apart when todo suddenly disappeared in the depths of the forest, not caring about your teamwork in the slightest. normally, it would frustrate you a lot more if you weren’t already preoccupied with your own troubles. todo would be fine anyways, the remaining group members could work on a strategy on their own. as mechamaru and mai were discussing, you shot a glance at noritoshi. he looked as deadpan as usual, probably not listening to the discussion as he worked better on his own and it was more or less decided that mechamaru and him would be moving on their own while the others would team up. otherwise, you couldn’t tell whether he was bothered by what had transpired between you the night before. on the contrary, he looked calm and composed, probably more focused on his goal than anything else. and for some reason it bothered you.
when you’d returned to nobara’s room last night, gojo had helped you make up an excuse. while dramatically gesturing around, he’d told them that he intercepted her journey towards the boys’ dorms to recruit you for training, claiming that he wanted to teach you more about reverse cursed techniques. although he saved you from scrutiny and embarrassment, you couldn’t help but feel like he might use it as leverage in the future. it was gojo after all, he was unpredictable. absentmindedly, you agreed to whatever plan the others had schemed and grabbed your sword, getting ready to move to your assigned position with miwa. while you had heard of the other students’ skills, you weren’t sure where to place their levels as there was always room for surprises. underestimating opponents was a beginner's mistake. the bell rang out, signaling the start of the tournament; with swift movements, the group members dispersed and slowly moved towards the "enemy".
in the distance, you could already hear loud explosions - it was probably mechamaru happily blasting away his opponents. you gritted your teeth in annoyance, the blasts were too loud for you to make out anyone approaching you. and as you predicted, someone was taking advantage of the noise to stalk up on you. barely being able to block the blow with your sword, you found yourself opposite of maki who was grinning at you. the challenging glint in her eyes told you that she wasn't going to go easy on you but you welcomed it. it was a good opportunity for you to grow and hone your sword wielding skills.
however, it proved to be more difficult to defeat maki than you'd originally anticipated. in mere minutes, maki had already disarmed miwa, leaving her defenseless and you were hanging on a bare thread. your grip on the sword was weakening, laboured breath making your ears ring. it was frustrating, knowing that after all those months of rigorous practice, you still couldn't win a fight. giving up wasn't an option, at the very least you had to give it your all.
"c'mon, you can do better than this!" maki teased you as you ducked away from the swipe of her spear. it missed you by a hair's width and left you scrambling to create more distance between you so you could heal yourself. maki's relentless hits didn't give you any rooms for it - you really had to learn how to constantly apply it to yourself without losing time. from the corner of your eyes, you could see that miwa had picked up the phone. she was probably calling for help, you thought and dished out another hit towards maki which she skillfully dodged. instead, she delivered another blow to your legs, making your knees buckle from the force. you used your sword to support you and took another breath before you tried to lunge at her. in the distance, miwa suddenly collapsed, making you stop mid-move and took another hit from maki that took all the air in your lungs.
"eyes on your opponent, y/n. you know better than to get distracted in a fight, you could've been killed in a real fight," maki reprimanded you as you coughed heavily, gasping for air as you slowly got back up. you were unsteady on your feet, not having enough energy to even heal yourself. conflicted by whether you should face maki again or help miwa, your eyes were flitting between them. maki took advantage of your uncertainty, dealing another blow to you that knocked the sword out of your hand. as your last resort, you kicked at her feet, trying to get her to fall, only to have her pin you to the ground.
"you're going to have to practice a lot more to beat me in the future," she sighed, picking up your sword. panic welled up in your chest - the sword was the only way you could possibly somewhat win this fight but even subconsciously you knew that it was over. reaching out for the sword in desperation, your vision was clouded with tears. it was frustrating, so so frustrating. why couldn't you be as talented as her? or have fast reflexes like noritoshi? why were you ordinary, not being able to make any progress no matter how hard you try?
"i know but i can't give up now!" you defiantly retorted, pushing at her with all might. "i have to win, i just have to show my skills for once and prove myself, i- i-"
even maki softened up at your heart wrenching sobs, easing up on her grip. you both knew it was over. you were probably already eliminated from the tournament, with no other possibility to redeem yourself. she knew that you tried your best and never once underestimated her but something irked her. it was your motivation, your driving force.
"y/n, there's no shame in losing. that's how you grow, make mistakes and learn from them. you tried your best, it's not easy to stand against me for so long."
"i know but there's- i'm still not where i need to be! look at how much progress the others are making in comparison to me! i've been practicing day and night and still, no one is noticing me. i'm just a measly healer and i-"
"y/n." maki cut you off sternly. "is this your motivation? proving yourself to others? you'll not be able to improve if you keep fighting for others. you need to start working on yourself, for yourself. you don't owe anyone anything. but you have to realize that trying to satisfy other people's needs will only make you unhappy and hinder your growth."
"i'm unhappy with my skills! i keep telling myself that it's okay, that i have a rare cursed technique but sometimes i just wish i had a flashy technique or be as strong as you. i don't want to be looked at as if i need protection, i don't want it! i just-" you hiccuped, sniffling again as you wiped your tears with the sleeves of your uniform. "i just want someone to acknowledge me, want him to accept me as an equal…"
"who?" maki's cold look made you freeze in your movements. you didn't mean to let that slip. no one needed to know that the entire time, you were vying for noritoshi's attention. but she was right; there was no point in giving it your all if it wasn't for yourself. it was a silly, childish dream of yours to be equal with him again. he was far out of reach and you couldn't catch up to him.
"n- noritoshi," you admitted in defeat. maki saw right through you, there was no point in lying. she raised her eyebrows at you but didn't question it further. after all, you hadn't told her about the background story. unless nobara had done so, you wouldn't doubt it.
"i'm not gonna ask you why. but this is my advice, do not fight for somebody else. if you relentlessly work on yourself for your own benefit, you'll see progress a lot faster. your technique might not be flashy but it is powerful, remember that. you're a valuable asset to every team," she concluded and pulled you up, awkwardly patting your back as you still sniffled. maki opened her mouth to tell you some comforting words but froze when another extremely loud boom resounded near the entrance of the estate. your eyes widened at the sudden influx of cursed energy - there was no doubt that a high-level curse had just entered the school grounds. you turned to maki to tell her the news but she'd already moved, pointing to miwa.
"take her to a safe place, you can't stay here! in your state, you wouldn't last against such a strong curse," maki yelled at you as she disappeared in the woods. you scrambled frantically, not wanting to be left behind. while you were useless for the tournament, you could at least still be of assistance against a curse. miwa was still laying on the ground, unmoving. you shook her gently, scared that she was seriously hurt. it seemed like she was just sleeping instead; you were relieved. throwing her across your shoulder, you winced in pain but persisted nonetheless. you had to get her away from here, who knows what curses were roaming around. your senses were flooded with the stench of blood and debris, the pressure of cursed energy, the loud rumbles. you couldn't tell where the others were but you hoped they were safe.
a loud thud startled you and you stopped, ready to draw your sword until realization hit you that it was utahime that was inspecting you. determined, you thrusted miwa's limp body towards utahime. 
"miwa will be okay, she's just sleeping! i'm okay too, don't worry, please just take care of her and i'll check on the others!"
"y/n, don't be stupid! you're injured and in no state to help others." utahime attempted to convince you; you shook her off stubbornly, insisting that you were fine.
"what if the others get hurt? i have to help them or at least warn them!" your resolve was firm and unwavering that even utahime couldn't convince you otherwise. slipping out of her grasp, you sprinted towards the source of the cursed energy. from far away you could already see the damage that the curse had caused. multiple buildings were torn apart, trees dislodged and- were those branches rapidly growing out of the ground? you watched in horror as the branches whipped around, following running figures on the rooftop of one of the buildings. upping your speed, you jumped towards the group to aid them. as you neared them, you could make out inumaki, noritoshi, and megumi fighting against the curse, maki trailing close behind. 
they barely stood a chance against the curse, every hit that they dealt, the curse would come out unscathed. "what's the deal with that curse?" you asked, panting as you joined them, coming to a halt behind inumaki. megumi was yelling something but you couldn't hear him as noritoshi turned to you and shoved you out of the way.
"y/n, what are you doing here?" 
"helping you guys? what the fuck does it look like?" you yelled back exasperated. why was he mad at you in such a situation? they needed any helping hand they could get to defeat the curse. while you weren't useful in fights, you could at least provide continuous healing. noritoshi didn't have any time to reply as the curse lashed out again, dodging it by jumping to the side. you stayed close to inumaki, swiftly healing him when he collapsed from the rebound of his cursed speech. you clenched your jaw, not wanting the others to see that you were slowly running out of energy and strength. next thing you know, a body was hurled through the air, landing near you with a thud. your heart filled with dread when your eyes fell onto the figure, recognizing noritoshi.
"y/n, heal them as best as you can and get out of here! take them to the teachers!" maki yelled out and this time you obeyed, too panicked about noritoshi's state. you were thankful that inumaki had enough energy to run after you'd healed him - hauling noritoshi's tall frame around was already difficult enough but even more so when you were exhausted. as you neared the gates, utahime was already running towards you with a concerned look on her face. you were glad that she was nearby, it meant that gojo and the other teachers were close and could defend you.
"what happened?" utahime worried but you couldn't reply. falling to your knees, you gently laid noritoshi on the ground. the injuries looked bad, there was blood everywhere. you had to stop the wound on his head from bleeding but your trembling hands were preventing you from doing so.
"i- i don't know, i just- i think the curse hit him and now he's unconscious and he's losing so much blood and-"
utahime pinched you firmly, snapping you out of your panic. she was already holding a cloth to noritoshi's temple to stop the bleeding. patting your hand, she told you in a gentle voice: "heal him if you still have enough strength but don't overexert yourself. ieiri will be here soon." 
nodding frantically, you placed your trembling hands on his abdomen and let your cursed energy flow. the strength was slowly leaving your body but you had to save him. you had to make sure he was okay, he couldn't die, not like this. regret was bubbling up inside you; what if this was the last time you would ever get to see him?just as you felt his energy responding to yours and saw his hand moving slightly, you couldn't hold yourself upright anymore. the last thing you saw was utahime reaching out to catch you as you collapsed.
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you woke up with a startle, gasping for air as you sat up abruptly. sunlight was flooding the room and it felt uncomfortably hot on your skin. you pushed the blanket back but stopped halfway in your movement. your entire body hurt, muscles burning and screaming for more rest. and yet you couldn’t stay still as you remembered the previous events. how long were you out for? was everyone okay? gritting your teeth, you slowly moved out of the room. again, you were faced with the endless maze that was the tokyo tech buildings and stopped in your tracks, not sure which direction to go. you let out a sigh of relief when you spotted yuji in the distance, waving at him to get his attention.
“y/n!” yuji ran towards you, frantically gesturing towards your room. “you’re supposed to be resting! what are you doing here?”
“is everyone okay?” you croaked, now realizing how dry your throat was.
“yeah, ieiri did a good job of healing everyone! some of us are still resting though and so should you.”
“no, i… is noritoshi okay?”
“noritoshi? oh, you mean the guy with the long hair?” yuji nodded, curiously eyeing you as your shoulders dropped, the stress rolling of them. “yeah, he’s still recovering though. ieiri said that his injuries were probably the worst so he’s not allowed to leave the bed.”
“can you take me to him?” you asked with a small voice, doing your best to muster up a puppy face. yuji sighed, scratching his head sheepishly. you could see the conflict in his eyes, that he was thinking about rejecting your request. in the end, he shook his head in defeat and motioned for you to follow him. a small grin found its way onto your lips - yuji was just too nice, he couldn’t say no when people ask him for favours. the walk to noritoshi’s room was silent, neither of you knowing what to say. you knew it was selfish of you not to ask him about his wellbeing more or visit the others but you just had to see for yourself that noritoshi was okay. yuji stopped in front of a door, pointing at it.
“this is his room. he might be sleeping though… my room is down the hall so if you need me to accompany you back to your room, just call me.”
you thanked him quietly and watched as he retreated. taking a deep breath, you knocked at the door and waited for a reply. a few moments passed before noritoshi’s voice rang out, giving you the okay to enter. gingerly, you opened the door and entered the room. noritoshi was sitting on his bed, reading a book as if nothing had happened. you looked at him bewildered. he didn’t look like his injuries fazed him at all. despite the bandages around his head and arms, he remained calm as if nothing hurt. 
“noritoshi,” you breathed out, taking a seat on the chair near the bed. he didn’t spare you a look, keeping his eyes on the book. “i uhm. i’m glad you’re okay! when i saw you in that state, i was so so scared that i could lose you… i did my best to heal you, i know i didn’t do much but-”
“i didn’t need your help,” noritoshi snapped at you, placing the book on his lap. “i would’ve been fine without it.”
you were stunned. why was he so agitated? after you initial shock, you huffed in frustration. “what the hell, you could’ve died! i was trying so hard to keep you alive and you react like this? i know you don’t like me but even this is a low blow for you!”
“it wouldn’t have been a problem if you hadn’t inserted yourself into everything! you’re not helping anyone, just dragging us down; everything could’ve gone well if it wasn’t for you standing in the way,” noritoshi countered as frustrated, this time actually looking at you. you stared back at him in disbelief. you saved his life and he had the nerve to shot you down like this.
“does it really hurt your ego to admit that i was actually helpful? we were friends at some point so why do you insist on being such a dick? and here i was, finally thinking that we were getting somewhere- for fuck’s sake, we kissed and-”
“leave.”
you stopped rambling. the tired tone in his voice, the deadpan look on his face; he was serious. you couldn’t believe him. tears welled up in your eyes as you leaped from the chair and hastily exited the room, slamming the door in anger. 
you never wanted to see him again.
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p.s: yes nobara gave you a wrong sketch of the buildings what about it hehe
taglist: @milkteeboba​
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doctorstethoscope · 4 years ago
Text
The Right Chapter 24 || Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader
Happy Saturday my loves! A little fluff/angst double whammy for your afternoon :) 
contains: grouchy aaron, food mention, description of anxiety, canon-typical description of murder
wordcount: 2.4k
“I seem to remember you being the one lecturing me about the bureau’s generous sick leave policy not all that long ago,” You told Aaron as you gently shoved him back into bed three days after he’d broken his leg. 
“I also recall that in that situation, you were the one who was injured,” Aaron grumbles, and you roll your eyes. 
“Yes, and you stayed home to take care of me. Now, I’m returning the favor,” you reminded him. 
“I’m not going to get a brain bleed, I just need the leg to heal. You don’t need to stay with me all day while I sit in bed.” He argues.
“You’re right, but I think we both know that if I wasn’t here, you wouldn’t stay in bed, and seeing as how you can’t get as far as the bathroom without my help, that might present a problem.” You chastise him. “I’m not coming home to you bleeding out in the hallway because you fell over and couldn’t help yourself.”
“You make me sound like I’m eighty years old.” he scoffed. 
“Well, if you agree to wear a life alert, maybe I’ll go back to work.” You said, throwing your head against the pillows. There’s a few moments of silence, punctuated by Aaron’s deep sigh. 
“I’m glad you’re here. Sorry I’m being grumpy.” He apologized. “I just don’t want you to have to take care of me.” 
“You’re injured and in pain. You’re allowed to be grumpy,” you told him. “And I plan on taking care of you for the rest of my life, so you should start to get used to it.”
“Can I hold you for a little while? You don’t have to go near my leg,” he says, knowing you’ve been extra-gentle to avoid his injury since you’ve been home together. “You could put your head on my chest and I could just… hold you,” Aaron asks shyly, and your heart melts. 
“Of course, baby.” you say, snuggling your torso in close, leaning your head against his pec and resisting the urge to toss your legs over his. “See? Sick leave isn’t all that bad,” you tease him.
“No, I suppose not,” he smiles, rubbing an arm up and down your back.
“Jack is so excited to have you home.” You comment.
“Not that it matters, I can’t even take him to the park or ride a bike with him.” Aaron grouses. 
“Aaron, he’s over the moon just to have time to spend with you. He could sit here in bed with you watching Toy Story on a loop for the next six weeks and I’m sure he’d tell you it was the best month and a half of his life.” 
“A month and a half… I’m gonna go crazy.” Aarom remarks, more to himself than to you. 
“You’re gonna have to take up a hobby. Maybe knitting,” you snort, and Aaron smiles. 
“Yeah, or braiding or something,” he agrees offhandedly.
“Braiding?” You ask. 
“Oh, I mean, or maybe I could get back into Chess, finally get good enough to beat Spencer--” 
“No, no, back up, what made you bring up braiding?” 
“Uh… it’s just… something I’ve been thinking about in case we ever, you know, made a decision, and felt like maybe---” 
“Aaron, spit it out,” you laughed. 
“Just… if we had kids, or a daughter, I would want to be able to do her hair. Because if you’re not home, I don’t want to be the dad that doesn’t know how to do his daughter’s hair.” He confesses, the embarrassment clear in his tone. You place a kiss to his chest. 
“You are a good man, Aaron Hotchner.” 
“I’m glad you think so, anyways.”
“Alright, you’re getting grumpy and self-deprecating, which is a bad combo. You need a nap.” You instruct him teasingly. 
“You’ll be here when I wake up?” He asks, tightening his hold on you just slightly. 
“Of course, love. You go ahead and rest. I’m not going anywhere.”
You went back to work a little over a week later, when Aaron was mostly off of his pain meds, and able to get himself around the apartment without any assistance. You were still staying there when you weren’t on a case, and found yourself grateful that you’d decided to sign a month-to-month lease-- you weren’t sure what the point was of keeping up the pretense of separate places anymore. But, then again, with Aaron injured, now probably wasn’t the best time for a move. You're working through a few scenarios in your head when Spencer interrupts your train of thought. 
“How’s Hotch feeling?” He asks as you and the rest of the team board the jet to head home after a case. 
“He’s doing better,” you tell him. “The pain isn’t bothering him as much and he’s getting a little bit of his range of motion back. I’m still trying my best to keep him in bed, but I’m sure you can imagine how well that’s going,” you tell him with a smile. 
“Well, tell him I can’t wait to have him back. I hate all this paperwork,” Morgan cuts in with a playful chuckle, and you shove at his shoulder. 
“I’m trying to keep him home, Derek. Besides, we all know that Spencer is doing most of the paperwork for you,” you called him out, and Emily and JJ laughed.
“He’s just so fast,” Morgan defends himself, and now everyone is laughing. 
“We do want him back,” Emily tells you. “But not until he’s good and ready. And then, you know, maybe even a few weeks after that. Wouldn’t kill him to take a vacation.” 
“I’m not so sure about that,” JJ smirks. 
“Please, he’s already itching to get back to work. I think he’d leave me if I asked for a vacation.” You tell Emily.
“No, if you asked for a vacation he’d buy a plane ticket in an instant. And he’d bring his work phone and his computer to the beach and try to solve a murder from underneath a palm tree,” Morgan argued playfully. 
“Sometimes when we take a case somewhere warm, I stand in the parking lot for five minutes and face the sun. And if you close your eyes, it’s almost like a vacation.” You say. 
“Weren’t you literally taken hostage the last time you did that?” Spencer asks, and you roll your eyes goodnaturedly. 
“Well, there goes my tropical getaway,” you tease. 
With Morgan as acting unit chief, paperwork deadlines are considerably more flexible, which is to say nonexistent. Strauss would probably have a field day when she went to review the case file, but that wasn’t your problem. And, quite frankly, as you rushed to your car to get home to your boys, you couldn’t care less. 
When you swing the door open, you interrupt a very spirited game of Connect Four between Jack and Aaron. You notice that Aaron has at least three opportunities to make a winning move, all of which he ignores in favor of allowing Jack to push his chips in at random. 
“You’re home!” Jack exclaims when he sees you, scrambling across the living room and wordlessly commanding to be held by you. 
You hoist him up onto your hip, not without difficulty. He was getting big, and it made you a little sad. It strikes you that you won’t be able to do this forever, wrap him up in your arms and make him feel small and safe and secure. You squeeze him tighter. “Were you good for your daddy while I was gone?” 
“Uh-huh.” He nods, pulling back to look at you and running the collar of your shirt in between his thumb and forefinger absentmindedly. 
“And was Daddy good? He stayed off of his booboo leg?” You asked the only Hotchner who would give you a truthful answer. 
“Daddy was good.” Jack confirms, and you narrow your eyes skeptically. 
“Did he bribe you to say that? Ice cream for breakfast, or a new comic book?” You ask. 
“No. We watched Toy Story and I learned checkers. I had cereal for breakfast, not ice cream.” He tells you, and you relent. 
“Sounds like you had a lot of fun, bug.” You say, putting him down and crossing the living room to sit next to Aaron on the couch, who leaned over to press a kiss to the top of your head and placed a hand in your lap. 
“I did. But I missed you.” Jack tells you, climbing onto the couch next to you. 
“He’s not the only one,” Aaron whispers, pressing another kiss to your hair. 
“I missed you both, very very much,” you tell them, snuggling closer into Aaron and placing a hand in Jack’s hair. 
“We had pasta for dinner. I saved you a plate,” Aaron tells you. 
“Thank you, baby.” You tell him. “But, I’m pretty sure it’s past somebody’s bedtime…” You mention, and Jack pouts immediately. 
“I told him he could stay up until you got home, but he promised he wasn’t going to fight when it was time for bed, right buddy?” Aaron reminds his son. 
“Come on, sweet boy. I’ll tuck you in,” You tell him, pecking Aaron’s lips briefly before scooping Jack up off of the sofa and bringing him to his bed, tucking him in with extra stories and kisses to make up for the nights you missed while you were gone. 
When you come back into the kitchen, Aaron has heated up the leftover pasta and is waiting for you at the counter. 
“You didn’t have to get up, I would have done that,” you tell Aaron, knowing full well that he’d never actually listen.
“How was the case?” He asks as you settle in and start to eat. 
“It wasn’t too bad. We got the guy to surrender without hurting any of the hostages. A few of them were in pretty rough shape, but they should all recover.” you tell him in between bites. 
“And the team? Everyone’s doing okay?” 
“We’re all good, babe. JJ’s getting really good at the geographic profile, but I think it annoys her to stay at the station when we’re all out.” 
“She’s pregnant. It’s not worth the risk,” Aaron reminds you. 
“I know, honey, but it’s still annoying. It’s kind of like when you break your leg and you’re not allowed to go to work but you still have to hear all about it from your girlfriend,” you point out, and he smirks at you. 
“Morgan’s doing okay? The field agents aren’t giving him any trouble?” 
“Morgan can handle himself just fine against any cocky field agent. You don’t need to worry about us, sweetheart. We’re okay. You trained us up good,” you smiled at him, and he blushed, rolling his eyes at you. “We want you back, but we want you back healthy,” you tell him.
“Well, the doctor cleared me to start PT in two weeks. So hopefully I’ll be back sooner rather than later,” Aaron tells you. 
“That's great news! So the cast is coming off soon?” You ask. 
“Yeah, he wants to see me again to take it off and give me the final go-ahead for PT.”
“And you’re gonna take it easy at PT, because you know you can’t rush recovery, right?” You remind him. 
“Yes, mom,” he teases you with a smile. 
“It’s my turn to fret over you. Karma’s a bitch,” you smile at him as you get up to take his plate to the dishwasher. As you do so, his phone rings. 
“Hotchner,” he says into the receiver. “Woah, woah. Slow down, please. Are you okay?” Aaron says, and you turn around immediately, concerned. “Garcia, hold on. I’m going to put you on speaker. Yeah, she’s home. She’s here with me.” Aaron says, his eyes flicking over to you as he pulls the phone away from his ear and adjusts the volume. 
“Okay, so, I have been keeping an eye on Josh’s arrest record, awaiting his arraignment and his court dates so that we could throw a big ‘Josh is in prison for life party,’” she tells you, spitting out information a mile a minute. “There hadn’t been any movement for a few days, and I couldn’t figure out why, but I decided to check one more time before I went to bed tonight, and Josh’s dealer posted bail for him four days ago.”
“What?” You say. You heard her, heard every word she said in perfect clarity. But there had to be a mistake, right?
“Garcia, what do you have on the dealer? What has Josh been doing for the past four days?” Aaron asks, and you hear him, but you also… don’t. Everything sounds like you have cotton stuck inside your ears, or like you’re underwater. This couldn’t really be happening, could it?
“That’s a trigger,” you mumble quietly, and you think that Aaron doesn’t hear you, he’s so focused on his conversation with Garcia that you try hopelessly to follow. He turns to you, after a moment, tucking his phone back into his pocket. 
“What did you say, doll?”  He asks you. 
“That’s a trigger. You know, how we say that serial killers have triggers that make them start killing people. This is probably a trigger to start killing,” you say, staring at a spot of dirt on the tile. Jack must have tracked it on his cleats, and Aaron couldn’t mop with his injury. You should really clean that. You needed to get the dirt off the floor. Mop, mop, where did Aaron keep the mop? You pulled it out of the closet and were headed for the stain when you felt Aaron’s hands come to rest on your shoulders, blocking your path. 
“Hon, what are you doing?’ He asks, trying to make eye contact with you, which you avoided. 
“The floor needs to be mopped.” You answer, emotionless. 
“Why don’t you come sit down, the floor can wait,” he says, trying to guide you towards the sofa. 
“Aaron, your knee! Go sit. Go, go. I just need to get the floor clean. Please just go sit and I can fix it. It’s okay. I got it.” You got more and more worked up as you continued to stare at the dirt, watching the stain grow as your vision blurred, as if the dirt were mocking you. 
“Hey, hey hey. Where’d you go, angel? Come back here with me, love. You’re gonna be okay. I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.” He says, wrapping his arms around you. 
You’d never wished more that you believed him. 
tagging:  @romanogersendgame @wanniiieeee      @zheezs14      @greeneyedblondie44 @angelic-kisses13  @baumarvel @ssamorganhotchner  @ijustwannaread2k19    @rexit-mo @shmaptainhotchnersmain @qtip-blog @averyhotchner  @the-modernmary @itsmytimetoodream @choppa-style @hotforhotchner11 @infinite-tides @isthatme-thatsme @g-l-pierce @bakugouswh0r3 @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads
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whoacanada · 4 years ago
Text
‘Wishful Thinking‘
Summary: Every NHL champion gets a single brush with ice magic. When Jack takes his first cup with the Falconers, he accidentally undoes the wish that brought him back from the brink of death in 2009, and Bitty becomes hell-bent on lifting the cup himself for a chance to set things right.
A/N: Finally posting some concepts I’ve played around with that aren’t 100% complete massive fics, but still pretty solid, just little things that might be enjoyed. Yet another cup-wish-gone-wrong-au with monkey-paw components. Also inspired by discord convos about canon!Jack meeting an older, veteran NHL!Bitty and having a lot of feelings. Also mentor/father-in-law!Bob trying to help Bitty navigate the NHL. There’s more to this floating around but this is the meat of it
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Bob can sense when it happens. A shift of something monumental that he’s only felt on a handful of occasions his entire life. A quick glance across the ice finds a number of the celebrating Falconers looking around curiously, unsure of the sensation; for so many, it’s their first brush with ice magic. A pleasant novelty. The vets, though, they look to each other.
Bob turns and doesn’t have to look far to find his son, one hand clasped around the cup, the other around Eric Bittle’s waist, smiling from ear to ear. Something about the moment is wrong, but Bob can’t quite determine why as he’s overcome with a wave of nausea. The stadium lights are too bright and he blinks hard, face scrunching, trying to force whatever wrongness he’s feeling out of himself.
Someone’s made a wish.
The moment passes. Bob’s vision clears. There, veiled in a shower of blue and gold confetti, is Eric; alone at center ice, face twisted in confusion as he looks around for the man who only moments earlier had been in his arms.
“You take the cup, you get one real wish,” the decades old, bourbon-lacquered voice of his first coach reminds him. “But only the one. Can be something small, like an empty cab in the rain, or it can be something big. World changing, even. The one thing, the most important thing — ”
“No,” Bob breathes. “Please, no.”
“— You never use your wish on another player.”
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They don’t know exactly what Jack wished for, but the next time Bitty’s blades touch the ice, it’s as if he’s stepped into the body of a new man. No more slurs. No more targeted chirps. He’s just one of the boys.
He plays. He wins. Then, the offers start to come.
NHL teams looking for fast wingers, team players, leadership material; not one of them mentions diversity, or Eric’s status as the first out NCAA hockey captain. No one cares. No one remembers Jack, and no one cares about Eric.
The best and worst case scenarios rolled into one. If this is the reality Jack unknowingly traded his existence for, Bitty has no choice but to walk through the door his partner opened.
Bitty swallows, trying to force the words out on one of his now nightly calls with the man who would have been his father-in-law in another world, if the shared connection between them hadn’t been interred in a Montréal cemetery almost a decade prior.
“I think . . . I think he wished for acceptance.”
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“No one remembers anymore.”
Eric scuffs his skate against this ice, building up a small pile of shavings before scattering them again, focusing on the soft white as if somehow he’ll be able to transport himself bodily to somewhere cool and quiet. Jackson Hole. Banff. Tremblant. Anywhere but here. Anywhen but now.
“Saw Tater last week at a press junket. Blank stares all around. Some days, most days, I wake up and I don’t know how I got here. I can go without thinking of him.”
Weeks. Eric doesn’t say aloud. Months. Those hideous mornings when he wakes up beside a warm body and forgets they aren’t him. They aren’t supposed to be him. Was there ever even a him.
Jack. Eric mouths silently, just to remind himself. His name is Jack.
The details always slip. The universe constantly trying to correct the fallacy of Eric Bittle remembering a man who died before they technically ever met. Faded photographs and corrupted memory cards. Selfies that used to have two people in frame. Vlog posts with cosmic ADR, swapping Jack’s name for someone else’s like a hastily rewritten script. Eventually, even Eric’s memories turn traitor. First times lost to reshoots and post-production magic. Blue eyes are brown. Black hair is blonde. Jack becomes Phillip. Eric’s first love recast. In desperation, he pulls a page from Memento, finds a tattoo parlor and has ‘Jack Laurent Zimmermann’ inked in dark, unmistakable letters on his inner thigh. Adds a cup, the Falconers’ crest, and the date they lost everything. It works well enough until the name fades; there are still days where a hook up will ask why Eric has a championship tattoo for a team he never played with.
Now, all he has is Bob.
“That’s why I’m here.” Bob reminds. “That’s why we talk.”
“But what happens if we don’t.”
Bob’s familiar assurances rumble through the phone. Constant. Refusing to acknowledge the harsh realities of the passing of time. The ever-present doomsday clock moving them both toward disaster — Bob aging, Eric aging out. He’s good, but he isn’t great, and the only offers coming his way are single-season contracts with teams that haven’t sniffed a championship in years. One day very soon, there will be no more chances for Eric to undo what’s been done. No more favors to ask of teammates that have long since forgotten a world where Jack Zimmermann was a college graduate and a rookie MVP. Not just an addict. Not just dead at nineteen.
Eric listens to Bob ramble, asks him to tell him a story, to tell him about the Jack that Eric never really got to know. The Jack he can barely remember. A man that Eric has dedicated his entire life to honoring, to bringing back — from where he cannot fathom — and Bob obliges in a soft tone Eric imagines is not dissimilar from how he must have spoken to his son as a child.
Eric ignores his teammates rushing around him — tossing chirps and gentle insults about his ‘Sugar Daddy’ — and focuses on the accented voice in his ear; grasping desperately at the memory of a man who doesn’t exist. Pretending. Hoping.
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Across the ice, Eric sees Kent Parson watching him. When they lock eyes, the aging star glides toward him, under a guise of one amicable captain greeting another. He’s pushing 37, and while the years of competitive play are starting to show, he’s just as viciously handsome as the day they first met. At least, Eric thinks he is. He can’t imagine a life where Kent Parson strolled onto a college campus and played beer pong at a frat party, but there’s a folder of old photos on Eric’s computer. Jack is in none of them, but there’s one of himself and Kent. Smiling.
Eric can’t recall why the image bothers him so much.
Parson used his wish years ago on something that he’s never bothered to share — and Eric’s far too much a gentleman to ask a man who was once a rival what he wasted his golden ticket on — but now, he’s slowing down, and this is supposed to be his farewell season. Going out with a bang, riding the high of his fifth cup win. He’s worked hard, and he deserves to shove the Penguins back down into obscurity for another season. Deserves it far more than Eric, with his selfish, single-mindedness that’s ruined god knows how many careers in the last decade between his own ruthlessness and Bob’s meddling.
Except. . . this is also likely Eric’s last season. His last chance to undo the great tragedy of his life, and Parson knows it.
“How you feeling, Peaches? You ready?”
Eric hates the nickname in the same way he hates when his father calls him ‘Champ’.
Eric fights his own shame because he wants to be honest, say, ‘No, I’m not ready, I’ll never be ready,’ but Eric can’t ask for what he wants, anymore. He wants the Aces to balk on a power play. He wants Parson to flub a pass and throw the game —  he even knows the man would probably do it, too — but Eric needs to come by a win honestly. They learned the hard way in 2022 when Eric hands were wrapped around the cup, wishing, praying, crying, pleading . . .
Clear eyes, full hearts, or some such bullshit.
Cheaters don’t get wishes.
“I can’t remember, anymore,” Eric admits as they square up across the face-off circle, the resigned terror of an inescapable end creeping upon him like the burn of an old injury ignored for far too long. “Kent. Please.” Parson leans down, rests his stick against the ice, and holds Eric’s gaze as if to say, I’m here. Trust me. Just play.
The puck drops.
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There’s someone watching him, young, handsome with dark hair and the kind of bright blue eyes that scream ‘notice me’ with all of the biological bluntness of neon plumage and a mating dance. The man weaves through the crowd, unnoticed by Eric’s teammates, and comes close enough that Eric can’t help but assume familiarity. He must be a fan, the way he’s flushed and excitable.
Eric’s drunk enough on the moment that he’s happy to indulge his baser instincts. He also literally can’t remember the last time he brought company home and if there’s ever been a night to get laid, it’s this one.
“Crisse, look at you, Bits.”
The man is caught between being awestruck and simply struck, reaching out to touch Eric’s arm but not quite making contact, like his depth perception is the tiniest bit off. He drops Eric’s old nickname so easily, so earnestly, that for a moment Eric thinks they might already know each other — but that’s impossible. Eric would remember someone so handsome, so very much his type.
“Only my friends call me ‘Bitty’.” Eric cautions, raising his half-empty champagne bottle in a mock toast and flashing his best ‘you’re coming home with me tonight’ smile. “But I’m more than happy to to get acquainted with you, Sugar.”
Eric isn’t usually this forward, this unrestrained. Tonight, it doesn’t matter, he’s celebrating: another championship, the end of a career, a life well lived. It’s to be expected. What isn’t expected is how the man’s relieved smile falters; as if Eric’s unbridled joy is somehow misplaced.
“Bitty? It’s me.”
“And ‘me’ is called . . . ?”
On very few occasions in Eric’s life has he been able to witness true devastation first-hand; and those instances were related to deaths, hockey losses, or blackout morning afters.
“Jack.” The man says softly, face slack with surprise. “It’s. . . Jack. Bitty, you know me.”
“If we’ve met before, I’m sorry,” Eric apologizes, hating to see the kid look so defeated. “I meet so many people — ”
Over Jack’s shoulder, Eric catches sight of Bob Zimmermann and waves, delighting in the way Bob’s face lights up when he catches sight of Eric, practically going supernova when he notices Jack as well, crossing the ice like a man possessed; Bob moves to pull them both into a hug but Eric’s new friend holds up a defensive hand and Bob stops mid-gesture.
It’s extremely apparent something is off, and between the reporters, the confetti, the champagne, and the fans, Eric is missing all of the context clues.
“Just won my last cup,” Eric singsongs, gesturing with the bottle between his mentor and the man Eric would very much like to fuck — who look very similar now that Eric can see them side by side. “Everyone’s super excited, right? Yeah? So, what’s going on. Did someone die?”
“No.” Bob says quickly, eyes flicking between Jack and Eric warily. “No. Not . . . that.”
“Severely injured?”
“. . . Non.”
“Okay, then, we should be celebrating!” Eric throws his arms wide and nearly clocks a passing teammate. “No more party pooping, Bobbert. Speaking, this is my new friend, Jack. Jack, Bob, Bob, Jack. Though, I’m getting the feeling you two might know each other. Or might be . . . related.” Eric gasps and smacks his free palm against his forehead. “Oh my god, the Tremblant retreat? Is that where I know you from? Listen, I was fucked up on pain meds that whole weekend, I am so sorry if we’ve already met.”
Despite Eric’s continued attempts at clarifying their shared mystery past, Jack keeps looking at Bob with that same wounded expression and it’s really killing Eric’s buzz.
“Bob.” Eric redirects. “Help me, here. Cutie’s nervous.”
“Eric, this is my, ah, well,” Bob’s smile is so forced, so tense, it looks more like a grimace. “Well, this is my son, Jack.”
There is only one ‘Jack’ Eric has ever known in relation to Bob Zimmermann, and he is not someone to be mentioned in polite conversation.
“Your son?” Eric echoes slowly. “Your son, Jack.”
Bob realizes what Eric’s tiptoeing around and casts a furtive glance toward the younger man, lifting two fingers to his cheek conspiratorially to imply ‘it’s a long story, not meant for public ears’. Eric knows how to play along.
“Wow, okay, did not expect that, but now that you’re saying it, I can one-hundred-percent tell. You have the same, well, everything.”
Eric takes Jack’s hand for an obligatory shake, not missing the way Jack’s features twist up into something caught between flattery and misery, before staring down his pseudo-mentor.
“My question is this, where have you’ve been hiding him — because how long have I know you, Bobby? Shame.”
“I’ve been . . . away.”
Jack’s tone is weighted with context Eric absolutely does not possess, but can definitely read into. Given the age difference and Alicia’s conspicuous lack of attendance this evening, Jack’s definitely a love child from some 90s Zimmergroupie. Or, original Jack didn’t actually OD and Bob spirited away his kid to keep away the prying eyes of the public; but that wouldn’t explain the age difference or the shared name.
Oh, Bobbert.
“Couldn’t wheel him out too soon,” Bob jokes, but Eric can tell the man’s heart isn’t in it, reinforcing Eric’s suspicion.
“Well, I’m happy you did,” Eric says graciously, trying to smooth over the awkwardness. “He’s very handsome, when he isn’t doing this Eeyore impression.”
“Just like his father,” Bob says reflexively —  defensively —  as Jack goes pink. “Eric, will you excuse us for a moment? Back in five minutes, tops.”
Eric offers a gracious wave, gaze lingering on Jack’s retreating back — and backside, bless — watching Bob rest a firm hand on his son’s neck, gripping tightly to lean in and furiously whisper something. As Eric watches, Jack looks back over his shoulder; it’s not the fond glance of a potential paramour. Regret, maybe? Grief, definitely.
He must be as disappointed to be cock-blocked by his father as Eric is.
Across the ice, Kent Parson has rushed Jack, gathering him into a crushing embrace that the younger man returns easily —  burying his face against Parson’s pads; pulling back only when Parson grabs Jack’s shoulders to push him away, taking a long look at him, holding his face between his hands briefly before pulling Jack back into his arms.
They don’t just look like old friends, it’s a reunion of desperation, like the videos his mother sends of soldiers coming home from war, but before Eric can think better of it, a teammate fists a hand in the collar of Eric’s sweater and pulls — away from Bob’s forlorn love child and forgotten first meetings — and the night goes on.  
Bob doesn’t return. Neither does Jack.
Eric doesn’t even notice.
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