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gauloiseblue · 3 months

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TF141 + König, Graves, Alejandro | Body Worship

[+18 | Adult Content MDNI]

Every healthy couple has done body worship to some degree, whether through compliments or something that's done behind closed doors. So when the two of you have reached that point, this is what they'll do:

Price

He'll absolutely kiss every part of your body, and his favorite spot is on the back of your knee.

In his mind, it's a reserved spot for a lover's kiss—because it could only be done in private, when the two of you lounge around.

While it's true that he prefers doing something else with you in private, he also loves kissing that particular spot, particularly when he feels like a sap, like a sentimental fool.

When you're laying on your back, he'd kiss your belly, before laying his head on your chest. He does it so often, that you'd instinctively run your fingers through his hair.

He loves doing it so much that it becomes a stress relief for him.

(One time, out of curiosity, he decided to compare his pulse before and after doing it, and his heartbeat did slow down during the cuddle)

Once, you joked that he has to find another way to destress or he'll die of a heart attack when you're gone. He didn't laugh.

Fluff aside, I think it's pretty much true that he's a giver when it comes to sex.

He's been in the position of power for so long, it's only natural for him to be in charge of everything.

(That applies to his relationship as well. Although he did tone it down, so he wouldn't end up suffocating his partner)

He'd take care of your body, and he'd make sure that nobody can make you feel like he does.

The thing about Price, is that he takes pride in knowing your body. He knows the blueprint of your pleasure like the back of his hand—he knows which button to push, and which way to make you see white.

He loves eating you out, that it almost becomes a ritual for him. And he wouldn't stop until your grip on his hair has tightened, so much so it's almost like you're trying to rip his hair out.

While he likes the term 'worship', he prefers 'giving you what you deserve'.

Also, I can picture him kissing his partner's sole or heel when he's fucking her—especially when her legs are up on his shoulder.

Gaz

He's the type of person who likes to hug his partner 24/7.

Aka, the baby monkey

He's very clingy, to the point that you can't escape from him with the excuse of 'going to the toilet'.

It's even worse when he just came back from a mission. Like, ten times worse.

He's the type that'd drag you into the shower when he's home, even though you already did it 5 minutes before. All because he misses you so much.

He knows that it annoys you sometimes, he even does it purposely just to poke fun at you, but he'd stop when you're genuinely pissed or needed space.

While he's not the type who'd worship his partner with grandiose acts, he'd shower her with compliments.

He'd tell you how much he loves your curves, or how much he wishes to be the one who hugs your body instead of clothes.

He loves his partner so much that her imperfections seem to blur in his eyes. He can't see any of her flaws, because he's blinded by love.

It might sound cheesy, but he really can't see his partner's flaws. He has no desire to search for it.

He'd be very sad if his partner didn't believe him, and he'd do anything to change her mind.

Maybe that's how the worship started

He'd call you with many nicknames, and all of them contain the word 'pretty' or something with similar meanings.

And he'll definitely abuse it in bed.

"You're so lovely when you cum like that, babe."

"Your lips are tempting me."

For some reason, I see him as someone who'd love mirror sex as a way of worship. Because he can fuck you while praising you at the same time.

(He also uses it as a punishment, especially when you don't believe him)

"Look at you. What a pretty thing you are."

And when he does it, you know he won't stop until you agree with him.

Soap

This man.

You know that post about Napoleon's letter to his wife; 'don't wash, will arrive in three days'? That's literally him.

While it's only figuratively, I do think that he doesn't mind the impropriety of it.

He's been in the army for years, with long working hours, and no time for personal care. So the smell of sweat won't bother him at all.

And he doesn't care about things that we might consider 'gross', such as hairy legs (or anywhere else, really), acne, or greasy hair. For him, it's only natural for humans to have it.

It doesn't mean that he doesn't care about hygiene. He does keep himself clean, but not too obsessed with it—mainly because he doesn't have a problem with it in the first place.

But he wouldn't mind if his partner took care of him, even though he has no idea what that toner does, or what's even moisturizer for.

Skincare aside, I do believe that he doesn't care if you don't shave. He'd still eat you out like a hungry man.

Just like Gaz, he doesn't see any of your imperfections. He just doesn't care.

In bed, he's quite dirty about it. He'd lick your sweat off your neck, and would cover your body with his cum whenever he could.

He also lets you sit on his face, until you drench him with your juice.

When the two of you had sex, he'd exhaust his endurance to its potential. Which means, you'd be covered in sweat and other fluids by the end of session.

Worry not, he'd treat you with aftercare by soaping you up in the bathtub.

Ghost

I feel like Simon would be the textbook example of body worship.

Growing up without proper care left him clueless about love, he wouldn't know how to show his affection if you didn't teach him the right way.

It might’ve felt awkward at the time, but keep in mind that he's trying his best.

It's amusing to watch though, especially when he's just started practicing. Because there'd be a time where you look at him expectantly, and he'd stand there for a full minute—trying to figure out what it means—before leaning in for a kiss.

While he looks like he's the man in charge, he actually finds solace in submission. He'll only take control when he knows that you're okay with it.

He needed a partner who's patient with him, because he'd flinch away at the slightest gesture of affection.

But beyond that point lies a loving partner. Affection won't scare him away anymore, and he won't be afraid to show it in public.

He'll kiss the tips of your fingers, your hands, or your temple tenderly.

In private, he prefers kissing the lines of your back. Trailing his kisses along your spine, and down to your lower curve.

And he'll do it with such tenderness, that it almost feels like a worship.

Did I ever tell you that he's good at massaging?

When you tell him your neck is stiff, he'll tell you to sit down immediately. He'll do such a good job on it, that he'll release all of your muscle knots in 5 minutes.

You know the joke about how men will turn a massage into sex? He's not one of them. He'll genuinely take care of you and tell you to rest.

So don't use it for that purpose, because he'd be so confused when you tease him during the massage.

In general, he wouldn't know what you want unless you say it straight to his face.

It'd change once he's comfortable with you. He'd take initiative more often, and he won't hesitate to touch you. Don't be surprised when he kisses the top of your head whenever he feels like it, even in the presence of other people.

König

This extra large size of a man is actually a scaredy cat.

He's so used to violence that he's afraid that he'd unintentionally bring it into his relationship.

One time, you hissed when he grabbed your wrist, and since then, he's afraid to touch you.

His fear pushes him to be cautious with you, and he'd treat you as if you're a porcelain.

It took about 7 weeks before he treated you like a normal person. And several days more before the two of you could get down to 'business'.

I'd like to mention something about his mask, I don't think he'd hide his face from his partner, even at the time when they've just met. He only uses it in the army, but outside of work, it's definitely off. Maybe he'd wear a mask in public, but that's it.

But since he's used to having a mask on, he sometimes forgets that other people can tell when he's looking. So when his eyes fall on your ass, you'll definitely know it.

Similar to Ghost, I do think that he needs time to learn about how to give and take. The only difference is that he has rough edges, and would definitely tease his partner.

"Don't tell me you can't reach that cupboard, maus?"

He'll definitely take advantage of his height and make fun of yours. Don't be sour about it, though. That's just his way of showing love.

He likes to pick you up, or carry you in his big arms to show the size difference. He did it so easily that he could do it with one arm, and still not break a sweat.

While he doesn't show his affection through kisses, he does it by getting on his knees.

Whenever you sit on the sofa—watching the TV, or just lounging around—he'd join you by sitting on the floor, before placing his head on your lap just like a dog.

On a rare moment, when he's feeling vulnerable, he'd lean his head against your stomach, and wrap his hands around your waist. He'd do it in such a way that people would've mistaken your stillness as something holy—as if you're a personal saint.

Like this image

Sometimes you wanted to question him about it, but you got the feeling that he'd return to his shell when you mention it to him. So you decided to keep it to yourself.

Maybe someday—if you're lucky—you'll find the answer for it.

Graves

In terms of take or give, I think he'd be pretty selfish about it. Especially when it comes to body worship.

He'll demand your affection all the time, and that applies in the bedroom as well.

He won't hesitate to push your head down, until your eyes are on the same level with the bulge on his pants. He'll be cocky about it, manhandling you and dictating you of what to do.

But here's the thing, he's very desperate for it, and you can use it against him.

If you don't mind him taking control, then go ahead. But if you don't want him to, you can literally turn things around by refusing him.

And let me tell you this; he'll do absolutely anything just to get his dick sucked.

You can ask him to kiss your feet, or buy you things, or even worse—you can humiliate him and get away with it. And when he did fulfill your demand, he'd be very submissive to you, even when you're on your knees, taking him in your mouth.

"Just like that, mon cher—" He'd moan, "Oh, yes, yes."

You can absolutely peg him, with the cost of giving him oral. Not a bad trade, right?

Outside the bedroom, he'd be critical of your fashion choices.

He'll dress you up whenever the two of you are going out, and he'll definitely hire people to take care of your hair and make-up.

"You don't like that dress? Too bad sweetheart, I already bought it for you."

(Then again, you can just threaten him with no oral, and watch him going through 5 stages of grief before he agrees with everything you say)

Aside from that, I don't think he'd do it to control you, he just wants you to have the best of everything. Because if he can't provide it to you, then what the hell is he doing?

Alejandro

As a Mexican man, he can't resist moving his body in one way or another.

Meaning, he loves to dance.

It'd be nice if you know how to dance, or at least what his dance means, but if not, he'd definitely teach you.

Think of a bird dancing as a way of courting, and you'll see his way of thinking.

He wouldn't woo you with words (although, he does have a silver tongue), or with kisses (not really, he's a great kisser as well), instead, he'd use his body to communicate his desire.

The easiest 'dance' that you can understand, is when he presses his hips onto your ass, as he sways your body—gently, and side to side—with him.

If you're not familiar with dances, worry not, he'll make sure you understand them by the end of the night.

If he pulls you to dance with him, it means he finds you interesting. If he lets you take the stage, he thinks you're beautiful. If he presses your body together, then he wants you. It's not that hard to decipher, since he's very eager to show it.

(While he prefers dancing with upbeat music, he's down for slow dancing to soft music)

You joked to him that he's always changing whenever he started to dance, and he replied with a smirk, "For better or worse?" He asked, and you couldn't answer.

Because not only he became the biggest tease, he also gave you memorabilia, in the form of copious lovemarks on your neck.

Have I ever told you that this man is obsessed with your neck?

He'd press his nose against the nape of your neck, muttering, "You'll make a slave out of me." Before placing his lips on your skin.

He likes to kiss your shoulder as well. He'd do it anywhere and everywhere, that it's become his second favorite place to kiss after your lips.

Whenever he stands behind you, you'll always catch him pressing his lips on your shoulder, absent-mindedly.

I think he's pretty much the king of body worship. Sadly, I can't describe every little thing he does to you, so I'll just leave the rest to your imagination <3

#cod #call of duty #cod x reader #price x reader #gaz x reader #soap x reader #ghost x reader #konig x reader #graves x reader #alejandro x reader #cod mw2 #cod headcanons #you can easily tell who my bias is

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sunshinebarbie95 · 2 years

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There is no character in the gossip girl fandom that is hated more than Serena van der woodsen even though there are characters who are 1000% more toxic and have done much worse(Blair and chuck looking at you two toxic twerps) so I decided to take some of the most common arguments on why Blair stans think Serena is worse than Blair and bring responses as to how stupid they are. Fair warning you may want to make some popcorn and soda because we could be here a while.

1. Everything is about Serena.

I’m gonna stop you right there because that argument is just stupid. She’s the main character of course most things on the show are about her.

2. Serena was so selfish

Blair threw a tantrum anytime someone complimented Serena or if Serena was in the spotlight and expected Serena to make herself less sparkly so Blair wouldn’t be insecure so Serena’s not the selfish one but Blair certainly is. She also pushed Serena into a fountain just because she thought prince Louis was interested in Serena.

3. Serena was so entitled

Blair literally thought the world revolved around her and only her and expected people to give her what she wanted no matter what because the only thing that mattered was that she got what she wanted

4. Serena is so judgy and acts like she’s better than everyone

Blair literally bullies people who aren’t in her tax bracket and always slut shames other women and has to bring other women down to feel good about herself but Serena is nice to people no matter what tax bracket their in.

5. Serena was so horrible for having sex with Nate while he was with Blair.

Yeah it was horrible what she did and I’m not excusing it but you know who else was involved ? That’s right Nate and he deserves more blame than Serena because Serena didn’t cheat on her partner like Nate did but only Serena gets blamed I mean it takes two to tango so kinda dumb and misogynistic to blame only Serena

6. Serena only apologized after the Nate incident because she got caught

Nate also had months to tell Blair about what happened but didn’t until Serena came back but only Serena gets blamed. Hmmmm

7. Blair owned up to being a bitch so it’s ok that she was a cruel wicked bully

I’m gonna stop you right there because the fact that you are trying to justify bullying shows that you are a walking red flag and Blair never even owned up to anything horrible she did, she just said I’m a bitch and bullied people. She never apologized or tried to be a better person and would only ever apologize if she got caught. Even when Serena had enough of Blair judging and trying to humiliate her Serena (or anyone else for that matter)fought back and gave Blair a taste of her own medicine(which she should) and Blair tried to act like the victim. She can dish it out but can’t take it.

8. Serena is narcissistic and always played the victim.

Serena is far from narcissistic, flawed but genuinely a good person and most of the time she actually was a victim because Blair can’t stand it when Serena is in the spotlight or when anything good happens to Serena. Anytime Serena or anyone calls Blair out for her toxic behavior Blair acts like she’s the victim and everyone else is wrong.

9. Serena ruined Blair’s chance of going to Yale.

That is not even remotely close to what happened. Serena initially turned down the invitation to Yale and was even trying to be civil towards Blair but Blair called Serena dumb even though Serena didn’t do anything to Blair in the first place so Serena had enough of Blair being a bitch and retaliated(as she should) so Blair started that fight and deserved Serena giving her a taste of her own medicine. Serena even gave Blair her spot so Blair could go but Blair ruined that herself by hazing a teacher so that’s Blair’s own dumb fault she didn’t go to Yale not Serena’s

10. Blair had character development and matured while Serena didn’t have any character development

Blair was still a classist bully at the end of the show and even worse she continued to bully even as a grown woman.

11. Serena went after everything that Blair wanted and only got those things because she’s rich

Not what happened and even if it did Serena is allowed to be interested in the same activities Blair doesn’t own them. Serena is also interested in some of the same activities as Blair and the people in charge thought Serena was a good candidate which is why they chose her it’s not Serena’s fault people thought she was a better fit than Blair.

12. Serena tried to sabotage Blair and dans relationship in season 5

Blair literally did the same thing to chuck in season 4 with Eva so kinda dumb to only blame Serena.

13. Serena only cared about guys,dated so many guys and acted to dumb around guys

First off so what if she dated a lot of guys ? Nate dated a lot of girls but I don’t see anyone judging him oh right it’s the misogynistic double standards. Serena didn’t care about just guys she cared about her friends and family. And y’all have a lot of nerve saying Serena acted dumb around guys when Blair was going to marry a man she didn’t love just so she could be a princess while Serena was out in the real world working. And when Blair found out about Serena and Nate having sex she gave Nate a tap on the wrist and tried to destroy Serena which shows how horrible and misogynistic she is and she did the same with Jenny after she found out about Jenny and chuck.she banished Jenny but forgave chuck. Blair just reeks of internalized misogyny

14. Serena was such a bitch to Blair

Nope that’s what you may call it but people with brain cells call it Serena not putting up with Blair being a bitch to her. In many scenes Blair is the one who starts fights with Serena because Blair a petty, selfish entitled brat and Serena takes the high road trying to end the fight it’s only after Blair continues to be a bitch to her that Serena has had enough so she fights back and retaliates (as she should)

Sorry about that long post so in conclusion Serena really isn’t a horrible person and doesn’t deserve the hate she gets. Basically Blair was a mean, selfish, spoiled brat to Serena throughout 95% of the show. And Serena didn’t let Blair get away with it.

#serena van der woodsen #anti blair waldorf #I hate Blair so much #Serena deserves the hype Blair gets #Blair deserves the hate Serena gets #gossip girl

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evening-starlight · 2 years

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Multiverse of Sadness

-- Dad!Stephen Strange One Shot --

Stella Strange lost her dad to a war with Dormammu.. Didn’t she?

Word count: 3.5K

T/W: mentions of death, cursing, mildish spoilers for Multiverse of Madness (Characters mentioned, no plot spoiled)

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The afternoon air was cold, heavily scented with the familiar scent of nature's death. Stella held tightly to Pasco's leash as they walked along the sidewalk of uptown New York, watching the red and yellow leaves fall to the pavement and eventually get run over by cars speeding passed. It felt fitting for how she felt today. Hopeless. Knowing what's to come and having no control as the wind pushes her towards the destination. No matter how often she changed her path or avoided going out altogether, she'd find herself in front of his grave every year without fail.

Today was that day. Six years ago this day, her father sacrificed his life in front of her to save the millions of other lives in the universe. Stella knows why he did it, but it didn't make it hurt any less. Nostalgia fills her as children run passed, dressed in cloaks and fake facial hair in honor of his death day. They would never understand how soul-ripping it was for Stella not only to witness it but to be there as he told her he loved her for the first, last, and only time in her life.

Stephen was never one to outwardly show his emotions, even to his own daughter. Before her mother passed, she would always tell her daughter that the only time she's seen Stephen cry was the day Stella was born. He cried for nearly six hours, almost refusing to let the little babe go because she meant so much to him at less than a day old. Stella never heard him say 'I love you', but always showed it. He would attend every dance concert, every project fair, every career day, and every meaningless meeting to show Stella he loved her. Even as the Avengers grew and the threats became often, Stephen would protect Stella above all else. Their love for one another was unbreakable and unspoken.

The reminiscing had Stella seeing things, like her father's red cloak dipping around the corner ahead of her. She shakes her head free of these thoughts. It was only someone grieving their hero. Pasco pulls gently on the leash, yipping in excitement as he does when he sees a squirrel. "Pasco, the squirrels don't want to play today," Stella sighs, trying to keep the excited pup under control. The more she pulled, the more Pasco did until, eventually, the leash broke and flew back, almost hitting Stella in the nose. Pasco runs down the street, turning the corner where the cloak disappeared quicker than Stella can yell his name.

Stella pushes through the few people walking her way as she screams for Pasco to come back. He was usually such a well-behaved dog; she had no idea what got into him to cause such a fuss. "Pasco!" She yells, spinning in circles on the cement, looking for her now missing dog. He was the only thing she had left from her family.

There were two other people on the street that Stella could spot, one of which was dressed as her father. It felt a little disrespectful to her, people dressing as her father to mourn every year, but she wasn't going to make a fuss after all these years. "Excuse me?" She calls, running up to them.

The facial hair was what caused Stella to pause on a dime. It was perfect. The hairs flowed naturally as if he'd grown the goatee himself. His eyes didn't sparkle the way Stella remembered, and his lips curled in disgust as Pasco continued to lick the man's face. It was terrifying, almost like looking at a zombie. A dead man walking.

"This your dog, ma'am?" The man asks, trying to hand the wild dog to his rightful owner. Stella nods quietly, looking over the man's face for any flaws. Any evidence that it was only realistic makeup. "Got to keep an eye on those wily white dogs," He chuckles as Pasco wiggles in Stella's arms, trying to get back to the stranger.

"Who are you?" Stella asks, voice low and afraid of the answer. The multiverse was rumored to be true, but her father wasn't dumb enough to mess around in it. Would he?

"Doctor Steve Strange," He introduces, holding out a hand in greeting. "And you?" Stella's nose burns and vision blurs as the tears pour out of her eyes freely. Pasco's feet hit the pavement gently before Stella pulls the man into a tight hug.

"I hate you," She sobs, clutching the shirt of the other Stephen. "I missed you so much." Stephen gently pats her back before pushing her away lightly.

"Do I know you?" He asks, one eyebrow raised. Stella nods and wipes her eyes and nose on her sleeve quickly. The emotions of this being a real version of Stephen had her acting before thinking. She missed her dad so much that she'd hug a random stranger.

"Other you did," Stella starts to explain. Stephen looks over at the girl standing awkwardly next to him.

"Other me?" Stephen asks again, eyebrow still raised. "You know of the multiverse?" Stella nods, wiping her face again.

"It was a rumored here, and Dad put so much research into it," Stella pauses a second, rattled with grief at what she's about to say. "But he died before he could finish anything. Is that why you guys are here?" Stephen nods, eagerness falling upon his face as he had finally found someone to help them get out of this universe and back to his.

"You said you knew the other me. Was he an assistant to your father? Where could we find him? Me?" Stephen stumbles over the words, confused by the slang to use in this case.

"I can show you where to find you, him, but I'm not sure it's going to be very helpful," Stella states with a slight, sad shrug. Pasco claws gently at her leg and lets her lift him into her arms. He licks away her tears gently, making her chuckle. "You see, Stephen Strange in this universe... was my dad. And my dad sacrificed himself six years today to save the rest of the universe from Dormammu," Stella trails off, tears escaping her eyes once again. Stephen sighs and lays a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry to hear that, kid." Stella shrugs and wipes her tears again.

"It's fine, death happens. I still have the Sanctum Sanctorum family and most of the Avengers," Stella explains. "Tony's actually having a get-together tonight for everyone and making me go," She rolls her eyes. "He refuses to leave me alone on the anniversary." Stephen nods, keeping his hand on her shoulder. "Anyways," She shifts, straightening her back. "What do you need help with?"

After Strange explained his and America Chavez's predicament, Stella knew what to do. She leads them to the Sanctum and sneaks them inside, towards her dad's old room. Wong agreed not to touch a thing in that room until she was ready. Even after six years, it was nearly impossible to step inside. But she'd do what she had to, to save her other father. It was weird to think about, so Stella didn't overthink it as she rifled through her dad's stuff.

America and Other Stephen helped, being gentle and putting things back where they belonged. Stephen stops short at his counterpart's bedside, picking a dusty framed picture. The old wooden frame was decorated in shells and glitter, too crafty to be store-bought but better than a child's hand. Inside the glass was a yellowing picture of Dad Stephen and Stella pressed cheek to cheek in front of their sand castle on the beach. Stella looked no older than thirteen in the picture, eyes bright with wonder and love, while Stephen looked loose and relaxed. Something this Stephen hasn't felt for as long as he can remember.

"That was one of our last trips before he passed," Stella explained from across the room. The lack of shuffling caused her to look up. "About five years before," She explains as she gently holds the picture she took from Stephen. "I made the frame and everything for that following father's day." Her voice is low, heavy with such sadness Stephen's heart broke for her. He knows why Other Stephen did what he did, and maybe he would do the same thing. But seeing how broken it left his daughter nearly a decade later, he regretted that decision on the other's behalf. How could he leave such a loving daughter?

"I'm sorry for your loss," Stephen says again. What are you supposed to say to your daughter, who's not really your kid? "How old were you?"

"Here?" Stella asks as she gently runs a finger over her dad's face. "Fifteen. Twenty when he.." She stops. This was the most she's talked about her father's passing. It was both releasing and added to her grief. It was also awkward talking about Stephen's death with him beside her. "He was so proud of this stupid castle," She laughs with a shake of her head, remembering how he asked a stranger to take a picture of the two. Tears fill her eyes again as she continues talking. "This was after one of the most complicated surgeries he did.

"Sixteen hours, only to go back again not an hour later for another twenty. He decided he needed a break. Took me to a beach house, and we stayed an entire week. Didn't have a care in the world except to relax and spend time together. It was the best week of my life," She finishes. Setting the picture back in its rightful spot, Stella wipes her tears again. "Jesus, I can't stop crying," She laughs awkwardly. Stephen rubs her back and gives her, what he hoped was, is a reassuring smile.

"You're a good kid, Stella. He'd be proud of you." Stella nods and walks away, wiping the new set of tears before they can fall. America finds the folder they were looking for not too long after, giving Stella something to focus on besides the growing grief filling her at the thought of losing the other version of her father.

She knew this Stephen wasn't her father, but he felt so much like him. The same chuckle, smile, hands. Even the same frame. It was hard to admit that this Stephen was almost a carbon copy of her dad. Which meant it would be just as hard letting this one go too. Knowing he was out there, somewhere, thinking of her too. It was once something that gave her hope, but now that she had it confirmed, it nearly wrecked her. In another universe, she and Stephen were happy, together, and still at that beach house, having the week of their lives.

The lab at Stark Tower was beyond anything Stephen had witnessed in his universe. It was bounds and leaps ahead of the Avenger's facility in his. Maybe, if his Tony were still alive, it would be similar. He wandered around slowly, looking at all the futuristic machines before his eyes landed on Stella.

Stella is hunched over a machine, glasses low on her nose as her eyebrows knit together in concentration. Stephen can see the similarity. She had his bushy eyebrows, his ears, and when her hair was pulled up the way it was now, a small streak of silver on the nape of her neck. He never thought about that being genetic; he chalked it up to the stress he was under his whole life.

Sparks start to form in the air above the lifted plate in the center of the room. Stella mumbles under her breath as she watches with bated breath. "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon," She continues, crossing her fingers. Stephen stopped watching the machine and looked at her. She acted so much like him without even knowing it. Stephen was never for luck. He worked for everything in his life and everything he's done to save people. Of course, he'd never tell anyone, but he'd cross his fingers every now and then for that extra bit of luck.

A blue glow casts over Stella's face, which quickly turns from worry to happiness. "Oh my God," She laughs, pulling her glasses from her face. "Oh my God, he was right. He did it. Dad fucking did it." Stella rests her hands on the top of her head, smiling widely at the opened portal. She had finally finished her dad's work and got a tiny bit of closure.

Stephen glances between the portal and Stella, a heavy weight on his shoulders. On the other side of that portal is a world without Stella, without the daughter he never knew he wanted. He'd only known her for a few hours now, but the thought of leaving her again weighed him down severely. So severely, he couldn't move as the lab doors opened, and a young teen rushed inside.

The boy stops in his tracks as he sees the glowing circle and two strangers with Stella. "Woah," is all that comes out of his mouth before he looks at Stella. "You're not supposed to be here yet," He mentions.

"I know, Pete, I know. I had to help some friends get home," Stella explains quickly, walking up to the boy and holding his shoulders tightly. "You cannot tell anyone I was here, okay? This has to stay between us." Peter nods quickly, still not understanding what's happening.

"Okay, but why?" Stella sighs and glances at Stephen.

"These guys aren't supposed to be here," She starts.

"Are they bad guys? Are you in trouble because I can help if you are," Peter starts, puffing out his chest to look stronger.

"No, Peter, they're good guys. They're just in the wrong universe." Peter's eyes nearly bulged out of his head as his brain tried to comprehend what he had just heard. He stumbles over his words, not stringing together a single comprehensive sentence before Stella shakes him slightly.

"It's real?" He asks, eyes wide as he looks over at Stephen and America. He wiggles out of Stella's grip and rushes in front of Stephen. "What's it like? How's your world different? Does it hurt? Which world do you like better? How did you get here?" Peter rambles before Stella spins him back around to look at her.

"Peter, shut up," She chuckles lightly. "It's all very amazing stuff, yes. But their world is in danger, and they need to get home as soon as possible. I'll explain everything when they're there safely, okay?" Peter nods silently. "Okay." She looks over at the pair preparing to leave.

"It should be set to the right universe and time. I used Tony's time travel machine and made a few modifications. It should allow you passage both ways until we get to the right universe, like a Monster's Inc door situation." Peter giggles at the comparison. "If you're not back through in five minutes, I'm going assume you're in the right world and close it, okay?" Stella asks, mainly directed towards Stephen. It was still hard not to see her father in him. America nods and looks up at the older man, who nods along.

"If we don't see you again, thanks for everything, Stella," Stephen says, pulling the girl into a firm hug. Stella melts into it for a minute, savoring the feeling of her dad in her arms again. "You're a bright kid. I'm proud of you, so I know he would be too," He continues, hugging Stella harder and pressing his cheek into her hair, the way her own dad used to. "You're a good person." Finally, he finishes and pulls away, the glossy look in her eyes making his heartbreak. He couldn't leave her all alone again. He had to, though.

America was the first to step through, followed closely by Stephen, who throws one last loving look at Stella before disappearing into the blue portal. Peter steps up right next to Stella and looks at her, breathing excitedly as he waits for her to stop looking and start talking. However, Stella couldn't tear her eyes away, hoping they would return. Hoping she got it all wrong and they'd come back, and she'd have more time with the man who could be her dad. Unfortunately, no such luck came after a minute.

As Stella explained everything she could to Peter, who sat on the edge of his chair, she continued to glance at the portal at any movement or noise. She willed them to come back, take her with them or stay with her. She'd known them for only a few hours, but the bond between Stephen and her was already stronger than most of her other relationships with people she's known for much longer. It was organic and naturally flowing. Like they'd known each other all her life. It felt as if she'd lost her father twice in six years.

The buzzing came first, then the sparks, causing Peter and Stell to jump at the ready. Stella's hand hovered over the abort button, ready to close the portal to stop whoever it was from entering. Peter and Stella wait anxiously, waiting to see if it was America or Stephan coming back for help.

Finally, Stephen's head popped through, looking for Stella as she stood behind the desk with Peter. Her hand moves away from the button, sighing in relief that it was only Stephen. "Stella," He asks as he walks all the way through. She nods for him to continue, worried something terrible happened and he needed her help. "I was thinking, and this world seems awfully drab to live in by yourself." He starts drawing out what he wants to ask. It wasn't exactly normal to ask your alternate self's daughter to join you in another universe.

"It is pretty drab-y here," Stella replies with a smirk, hoping he was going where she thought it was going.

"How about you come with me?" Stephen asks, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "I have the New York Sanctum, we don't have the Avengers, but I can fill you in on all that," He waves off that last statement. "We have beaches and everything," Stephen rambles. He hoped she'd say yes. His heart hurt without her, even if he barely knew her. She was the daughter he never had but always wanted. Stephen couldn't let her go that easily. "So, what do you say?"

Stella runs around the computer counter and jumps into Stephen's arms happily. "I was hoping you would ask. I know this isn't conventional, but you're so much like my dad, and I couldn't bear to lose you too," Stella nearly sobs with happiness.

Pasco, who had been sleeping soundlessly under the desk while Stella worked, caused Peter to jump in fright as he barked and ran up to Stephen and Stella. It was like he knew what was going on and wanted to join.

Stephen grabs Stella's hand after she scoops up her dog and smiles down at her. "Ready, kid?"

"Ready, Stephen," She replies, walking up the metal steps towards the portal.

"You can call me Dad whenever you're ready," Stephen adds with a small smile, as if embarrassed but wanting to be called that.

"Some day soon, I hope." Stella looks over at the bewildered Peter. This was all happening so fast in front of him. One minute he's learning about the multiverse, and the next, his 'aunt' is walking through it with her 'dad.' "Take care of Tony, okay, kid? And tell Wong he can dust my dad's room finally." Peter nods silently, still in shock. "I'll see you around, okay? Be good until I get back," She winks at the boy.

"Bye, Stella," Peter says with a wave as he watches her step into the alternate universe with Stephen. He blinks a few times before shutting power to the machine and walking out as casually as possible. It was too much to comprehend at the moment.

_____

"Where the hell is she?" Tony Stark grumbles as he pours another glass of whiskey. "She wasn't at home or his gravesite, so where the hell is she?" He was starting to worry about the young woman.

"Ever thought she'd want to be alone today?" Steve Rogers asks, taking a sip of his bourbon. Tony settles him with a glare.

"Of course, she would. That's why she can't be. We all need to be around people when we grieve." Peter hides his knowing smirk behind his glass of soda. "You got something to say, kid?" Tony remarks, seeing the look Peter miserably failed to hide.

"Stella just wants you to know she's safe and happy. And she won't be around for a while."

-----

Stella was happy, healthy, and living her dream life again. After they fixed what caused them to universe jump, Stephan and Stella got to know each other better. She fought crimes with Stephen and played games with Wong. America and Stella finally got Stephen to the beach, where they all made a sandcastle together and put the picture a stranger took of them in a shell frame America made.

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elysianslove · 3 years

Text

haikyuu boys and tropes that suit them!

includes: kageyama tobio, iwaizumi hajime, oikawa tōru, sakusa kiyoomi, miya osamu, miya atsumu, suna rintarō

(possibly part 1??? consider this an apology for not posting as much 💔)

kageyama tobio — practice kissing.

kageyama is, as embarrassing as it is for him to admit this, inexperienced, greatly so. he’s in his third year of high school, 18, and is yet to have his first kiss. college is approaching him dauntingly quick, and he doesn’t think he can handle being as clueless as he is for any longer. so while you’re sat on his bed scrolling through his phone, he bluntly asks you if you’ve ever kissed someone. he seemed so confident, and the words were straightforward and lacked any sign of anxiety or uneasiness. but the moment they left his mouth, he’s red in the face and his hands are shaking. when you agree to help him practice, he’s scared, shy, flustered, and his heart is in his throat, but he lets you lead the, setting the pace yourself as you sit before him, his face in your hands, pulling him closer to you. it’s electrifying, to put it to the least. he’d heard a million horror stories from his upperclassmen about first kisses, but he finds himself unable to relate. everything about the kiss and you is perfect, and he asks for more practice, starts looking forward to theses ‘sessions.’ he starts growing more and more confident, until he’s the one flustering you, the one making you gasp and squirm and mewl, not the other way around. and maybe he’ll find it in him to confess. maybe.

iwaizumi hajime — friends to lovers.

in general, with iwaizumi, he has a hard time believing in that he’s meant for a relationship, in that he has his own person, and for many reasons. he tries to be rational about it, saying he has other priorities at the moment, that he won’t be able to give his all, that he’s not particularly ready or in the right headspace/situation to commit to a person and a relationship. but it’s also, deep down, because of this indescribable fear of not being enough, of his flaws being too much, of being too imperfect. he just chooses not to get a headache over it, honestly. that’s why friends to lovers is perfect for him. it’s this person who he’s known for a long time, someone he’s come to know so well, so deeply, and vice versa. they’ve seen the bad and good of each other, been through all the ups and downs, learnt all their quirks, their habits, their tendencies. this is someone who is already a priority, someone who is already a constant. of course, he still hurts his head thinking about how wrong it is to have feelings for his friend, and the shame and guilt eats at him from the inside out. but it’s just so— easy. to love them. it’s so, so easy, as easy as breathing. and iwaizumi spends such a large amount of time pining and yearning that the final straw, the snap, the breathless confession, is so satisfying.

oikawa tōru — enemies to lovers.

oikawa wants and needs someone that’ll both keep him on his toes, always pushing him to the very edge but not completely over. he needs someone that excites him, someone that he has to work to earn. the word enemies is blurry to him. all he sees is someone playing hard to get, and he takes it as a challenge. it’s not that he wants and needs everyone to be in love with him and how dare you not be swooning at the sight of me!! it’s more that this person intrigues him impossibly. this person challenges him, bites back, and bites back hard. and the transition from enemies to lovers is so smooth with him, because it’s unpredictable and unexpected. one moment you’re swearing at him across the hall, the next you’re tenderly massaging at his injured knee and reassuring him of his hard work and efforts. it’s beautiful, really. the snarky comments and the flirty comebacks and the glares returned with playful grins, and them the moment of realization that opens up a whole new door that this person isn’t so bad after all. the satisfaction of finally giving in, either so slowly, so carefully and timidly, or rushed, hurried and desperate. so good.

sakusa kiyoomi — there was only one bed!

sakusa does not share. it’s nothing personal (sometimes it is), but he just prefers to have his own private space, where he can be comfortable. but things happen! like a trip where you’re stuck in the same room! and there’s only one bed! and the person you’re stuck with is the same person you’re very confused in regards to your feelings about them! the trip is a couple of days, and so it starts with the offer to sleep on the couch. it’s very uncomfortable, but he does it anyways, because a) he’s a gentleman, and b) you both now each have your private, safe space. two days pass, and you both tiredly pass out on the bed next to one another. he wakes up before you in horror and falls onto the couch quickly, but he doesn’t fall asleep again. as if this were fate’s play, you find yourself unable to sleep, and neither can he, so you quietly scoot over, a silent invitation. reluctantly, he accepts. he doesn’t spend that night sleeping either, instead simply stares at you, his hand outreaching for you, but not quite touching. eventually comes a day when he wakes up with your face buried in his shoulder, and although his cheeks are as warm as ever, he doesn’t feel uncomfortable. he only feels grateful to be finally touching you.

miya osamu — soft only for their lover.

it’s not that osamu is rude to others, or hates everyone else, or anything along those lines. it’s more that he’s less likely to open up, be vulnerable, be softer, easier than compared to with his partner. with his lover, he smiles easier, expressions are readable, his eyes always a dead giveaway to what’s on his mind. he’s colder and less approachable to others, but it’s almost as if his resolve melts the moment he spots his lover. he could be yelling at someone, angrily, then turn to his partner and in the softest voice say, “just a moment, my love,” and go back to yelling as if it were completely normal. similarly, he will always take his lover’s side of the argument regardless of whether they’re right or wrong. and, he’ll be kissing his lover, but pause for a moment to deck his brother, then return to kissing his lover again even softer. it’s because his lover owns such a big part of his heart, and when osamu loves, he loves with every part of him. he’s been called out on it multiple times; the fact that he’s so much meaner and harsher and stubborn with everyone else, including his brother, but it’s always the opposite with you. you are his soft spot, really, and it tickles your tummy whenever you notice the little changes and shifts in his attitude and personality when it comes to you.

miya atsumu — enemies to lovers.

unlike with oikawa’s case, you and atsumu genuinely hate each other. you despise his attitude, his cockiness, his ideals, his approaches, his voice, his hair, everything, and likewise, he can’t stand you. he’d only ever been rude to you, and in response, you’d defended yourself by being equally as rude. this isn’t playing hard to get enemies, this is i hate your guts enemies. rarely does being in a room with him not result in some sort of argument. your mutual friends are all fed up, of the arguments, the fighting, the smack talk behind one another’s backs, the complaining, everything. it’s infuriating, and so they beg you to talk it out, to try and resolve whatever it was going on between you, but either he wouldn’t cooperate, or you wouldn’t. it seemed hopeless, until at some point in time, you get badly hurt, maybe mentally or physically, but atsumu finds himself worried unbelievably. it’s irrational to be, especially with your history with one another. but he’s worried, insanely so, and when he finds you, finds out you’re okay, or you will be, the relief that fills him is dizzying and so, scary. but maybe the both of you were just projecting onto each other, the fact that you so badly wanted each other but felt like you couldn’t do anything.

suna rintarō — brother’s best friend.

it’s a dash of forbidden love, a dash of friends to lovers. he’s your brother’s best friend, older than you, and it’s wrong, you know it is, but you can’t help it. on the days he’s invited over, you purposely make sure to stay at home, and you make excuses to pass by your brother’s room constantly, to talk to him. he knows you like him, knows you’re desperately chasing after him in your own subtle way, and for a while, suna lets you. he acts dumb, none the wiser, lets you have your little fun of sneaking snaps of him to send to your friends and when you purposely press your leg against his sitting next to him on the couch or when you offer your lollipop after you suck on it. he indulges you, slightly, subtly. and when he sees it suitable, finds it right, he starts to return the advances: he accidentally arrives a little earlier than planned to your home when he’s invited, and he passed by you in school more often, and he makes up excuses to text you all the time. eventually, the sexual tension is unbearable, suffocating, incredibly overwhelming, and when it snaps, nothing else matters. just the two of you. he’s experienced, good with his words and his hands and his mouth and he’s a dream. and all you do is fall deeper, and deeper, and deeper.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #kageyama x reader #iwaizumi x reader #oikawa x reader #sakusa x reader #miya osamu x reader #miya atsumu x reader #suna x reader #kageyama headcanons #iwaizumi headcanons #oikawa headcanons #miya atsumu headcanons #miya osamu headcanons #suna headcanons #sakusa headcanons

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belphies-cuhm-sluht · 3 years

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Could I please request the brothers reaction to a normally fiesty and strong female MC flinching at the sight of an emotionally abusive Ex. She remains strong and tries to play it off, but its clear shes not okay.

Brothers When MC Changes When Seeing An Emotionally Abusive Ex

Warning (Mention of Emotional Abuse)

I didn’t actually mention what the ex did and I made this GN because anyone can experience any type of abuse, sadly.

Lucifer

You were always so spunky, sassy, that’s what had drawn his attention to you in the first place. This little vacation that he had set up in the human world was something that he had planned a while ago, and now that the two of you finally had some free time, he was able to enjoy some time with you while you showed him around your hometown. He found it cute how excited you would get when you passed small stores, pointing to them and telling him how you always went there when you were younger but never actually going in. You would just pull him along behind you, almost as if you were scared that time would run out before you got to show him everything, although he would have been able to bring you back up at any time. The change was so noticeable, it was almost like hitting a brick wall. You had stopped running, your voice dropping so low he could barely even hear you anymore. Had he done something wrong? Not act excited enough? “What is it, Darling?” He tilted your head up to look at you, he saw the sadness in your eyes before you shook your head. “It’s nothing, let’s just go the other way…” He saw your eyes dart up, looking at the person who was walking down the sidewalk, heading towards the two of you. “Really. It's nothing. I’m just getting hungry.” You tried to sound unbothered as you turned around, but he knew otherwise. He let you pull him in the other direction, and once you got somewhere where you could both talk in private he asked why you reacted that way and you reluctantly explained everything. He grabbed your hand and squeezed it lightly, offering you a soft smile and sweet words that would help keep your mind off your ex for the rest of the evening. Once you’re asleep he will go out and find your ex and teach him a lesson, scare the hell out of him, and tell him that he’ll be waiting in hell for him when his time comes. No one dies, but it was really hard for Lucifer to keep it that way.

Mammon

Your feistiness was so attractive to him, he thought it was both hot and cute at the same time. You didn’t put up with anyones shit, and you had that attitude as soon as you entered the house. He thought it was amazing that you stood up to a bunch of demons, especially Lucifer, even he was too nervous to do that so he thought you were like, super badass. When you told him that you had managed to convince Lucifer to let the two of you up to the human world for a little trip, he was beyond excited. You were taking him on a sightseeing tour throughout the city, showing him your favorite hangout spots and where you’d go when you just needed to get away for a bit. The places wouldn’t have seemed very special if he had come across them by himself, but now that he knew they were your spots he thought they were amazing. As you walked down the street, window shopping and just goofing off, he noticed your body tense up and your head dropping to look at your feet. “Oi, you alright, babe?” He looked around, seeing if someone had maybe passed by and touched you because that would be unacceptable and he would handle that real quick. When you only nodded your head he realized that it was something more than that. If it was the latter you would have handled that person yourself, so whatever was wrong with you now, it must have been really bad. “Yeah. I just think it’s time we go now, don’t you?” You said to him, your eyes quickly glancing over at the person who was staring straight at the two of you. He nodded quickly, taking you back to that spot you had told him about, hoping that you’d tell him what was going on. When he found out that it was your ex and that they emotionally abused you?!?! Oh he didn’t like that, and it took every ounce of control for him not to go and find your ex right now to teach them a lesson. He waited to get back to the hotel, watching you get comfy in your bed before excusing himself under the guise of wanting to run out and get something. He’d yell at your ex, and not only that, he’d change into his demon form just to scare him a little more. Of course, his voice kind of broke because he got choked up when he thought of anyone hurting you… but he did what he had to do, and he’d do it again. No one messes with The Great Mammon’s human!

Leviathan

The fact that you were so strong and so feisty actually made him weary, but once he figured out how fun you were to actually be around that weariness faded almost completely. Not only were you fun to be around, but you also stood up for him a lot when he was too awkward and anxious to do so himself. When you told him about a trip up to the human world he was slightly put off by it, but then you told him about this arcade that you used to go to and his thoughts immediately changed. An arcade?! That’s so cool! He’s always wanted to go to an arcade up in the human world, but Lucifer told him that it was unnecessary to open the portal just so he could play some video games. Now he could actually do that, and also hang out with you at the same time! It was awesome! He sat on the little chair in front of the Pac-Man machine as you stood right next to him, cheering him on as his score climbed higher and higher. Then you stopped and your hand gripped onto his shoulder tightly, and at first he thought that maybe you just got worried that he was about to lose, until he looked up at you and saw your jaw clenched and your eyes looking around the room as if you were looking for someone. “Everything okay, Y/N?” He asked, and you quickly loosened up, smiling down at him and nodding. “Yeah, it’s just getting late. We should head back.” That wasn’t like you at all, and he could tell that your smile was forced. He nodded, slowly getting up from the chair and leading you out of the arcade, noticing your body tense up as you walked past one of the employees. He knew it wasn’t a good sign, but he didn’t want to force you to talk about it. No matter what, whether you told him or not, he would stay by your side and cuddle with you until all your worries melted away. You were always so strong for him, it was his turn to be strong for you.

Asmodeus

The two of you together were like an unstoppable force not to be reckoned with. His personality mixed with yours, it was like the perfect cocktail. If anyone even attempted to talk down to you, he would sass them and put them in their rightful place. If anyone said anything about him you would shut them down in the blink of an eye. Everyone knew not to mess with the two of you, whether you were together or apart, it would never end well. When you invited him to go shopping in the human world with you, he was more than happy to go with you. You were trying on an outfit, ready to step out and show it off when you saw your ex walk into the store, quickly shutting the curtain again. “What’s the matter, Y/N?! I thought that outfit looked cute!” You chuckled from behind the curtain, stepping out and trying to act like nothing was wrong, but, being so close to Asmo had its flaws. He could read you so well, and he quickly looked around the store. “Is someone messing with you here? Do I need to speak to someone?” You knew he would too, so you quickly shook your head, grabbing yours and his pile of clothes and heading to the front counter. You didn’t have to say anything, he was looking around the store and he immediately picked out your ex, noticing that they were staring at you a little too much for his liking. Do not try to hold him back because he is going to completely berate everything about your ex in front of everyone so they’re humiliated and they’ll never look at you again. Then he’ll take you to the spa because you deserve it and you’re perfect and he just wants you to relax.

Satan

Barnes and Nobles was having a book sale, you got an email about it and of course you wanted to go. You went to Satan first, obviously, and he quickly agreed to go. A bookstore with the only person he could stand to be around for long periods of times, other than Belphie. Sounds great, what are you waiting for? He really did enjoy your presence. You were feisty and you weren’t afraid to straighten him out when he was acting out of sorts. You were strong willed, and you didn’t let anyone step on you. You were nobody's floor mat, and he respected that about you. Barnes and Nobles was packed, and he was shocked to see that so many humans actually still enjoyed reading because most of the humans he had met were idiots who seemed like they hadn’t picked up a book in their life. Maybe he was just being judgy, but, that doesn’t matter, he was in a store filled with books and you were right there next to him, it was the perfect day. While browsing through the sections you had somehow tripped over seemingly nothing, fumbling back into the bookshelf and he quickly caught you, looking around to see if someone had pushed you or something. “What happened? Are you alright?” He wasn’t letting on that he was worried, at least he thought he wasn’t, but your entire demeanor changed and that confused him. Your shoulders were tense and your pupils were dilated as if you had just seen a ghost or something. “Tell me.” He wasn’t going to let it go, so it would probably be best to take him somewhere private where no one else was around because as soon as you let him figure out what was wrong he’s gonna flip out. He’ll try to keep his cool because now that he knows, he doesn’t want to upset you, but he is mentally plotting your ex’s soon to be suspicious death. You’re so strong, and he doesn’t want anyone to break you, not the way your ex did. Never again.

Beelzebub

Your feistiness was adorable to him, and you were always so strong, it was just precious. To him, you were like a little tiger cub, your rawr was small compared to his, but still just as mighty. He absolutely adored you and he would protect you at all costs. When you told him that you were going back up to the human world to visit some family he quickly offered to go with you. Not just because he really wanted to go with you, but also because the mere thought of food from the human world had his stomach growling. Of course you let him go with you, you loved having him around and you wanted to show him to some of your favorite restaurants and fast food joints that helped keep your stomach full during late nights spent up. Your hand was in his, swinging back and forth as you walked down the busy sidewalk, talking about random things that weren’t really important to you, but he found highly interesting and promised to remember either way. He felt someone bump into your shoulder, the bump pushing you into him lightly. Usually you would tell the person to watch where they’re going, or just laugh it off, joking about how clumsy and careless people were. This time though, you froze up, and even if it were just for a split second, he felt it. “Hey, what’s wrong? Did the bump hurt you?” You quickly looked up at him, laughing softly and tsking your tongue. “What? Pfft, no! Come on, we’re almost at the restaurant.” He didn’t believe a word you said, but the mention of food had him pushing that thought back, at least long enough to fill his stomach. He never brought it back up to you, he didn’t like the way you tensed up, it wasn’t normal for you. The person's face was etched into his brain, and as soon as the two of you got back to the Devildom and you fell asleep, he went right back up to the Human Realm. He didn’t need to get physically violent, his appearance alone was enough to frighten your ex, but he didn’t think that was enough, so he changed into his demon form. You had already been hurt, and he couldn’t do anything but promise to never hurt you like that, but he would make sure that your ex did that to no one else in the future.

Belphegor

Your personality traits were nothing short of entertaining to him, especially when that feistiness came out during conversations with Lucifer. It was his favorite thing, and he’d talk about it for days, especially if Lucifer would look shocked or insulted afterwards, it was hilarious. The trip to the human world wasn’t something that he wanted to do at all, but you had promised to lay in bed with him all day if he went with you and that was one offer he couldn’t refuse. You walked with him through the mall which was packed with people and he was visibly annoyed by the fact that you dragged him out on a Saturday, but that promise you made kept him from forcing you to go back and pick a different day to go out. You started pulling him toward one of your favorite stores, only to stop dead in your tracks and turn around which confused him to say the least. “What?” He was already on edge the entire time, being around so many humans, it wasn’t fun for him and he just wanted to go home and take a nap. When you acted that way, it only made him feel worse, his eyes scanning the entire mall. “Oh I just, I smelled the pretzel place and I really want a pretzel.” His eyes narrowed, but he didn’t have the patience to question it, and he honestly just wanted to get out of there so he let you lead him in the complete opposite direction. “You’re just like Beel sometimes.” He made the joke just to lighten his own mood, but now his eyes were scanning the entire mall. He had memorized every face of every person that had been standing in front of the both of you when you turned around, and now he was scanning the mall for any of those faces, seeing if any of them stopped and looked at you a little too long. He didn’t mention it to you, but a small smile crept onto his face as he made new plans for the night. Somehow your ex’s body was found in a river the next day. How strange. But don’t worry about it, just take a nap with him, you promised, remember?

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iwagfreal · 3 years

Text

cigarettes, sex, and osamu.

tags: osamu x fem!reader + smoking + smut + dirty talk + balcony sex + lowkey public sex + shotgun word count: 2k

[not proofread so excuse the mistakes]

"you still smoke here?" you couragely ask as you approach the gray-haired bloke who's leaning on the wall, a stick of lit cigarette in between his fingers.

he looks at your direction and a smirk appears on his lips. "and here i thought you wouldn't come back," he utters before he takes a puff of his almost finished-off cig. you situated yourself, beside him and fished out the marlboro box from your pocket to take a stick.

to be honest, you didn't really know this guy beside you. it was just one night after getting kicked out of your place's rooftop for smoking that you had to find a new place to take a drag. and here you found a guy at the back of a high-end restaurant, always has his back rested on the wall and taking in three sticks and a piece of menthol candy before he decides he's had enough.

for weeks, you just smoke with him at 10 pm in this place, exchanging smiles and a the littlest bit of small talk. but that was all before you decided to stop smoking, which, of course was a blatant failure considering you're back in that place again.

"fuck, i forgot my lighter," you huff with the cig in between your lips. the guy immediately moves to whip out a lighter from his jeans' back pocket and lit your cigarette that was still on your mouth without even saying a word.

"thanks..." you say as you take a drag, the last syllable hanging as if you were asking for his name.

"osamu. osamu miya," he says in a low voice. he moves a little so the light from a lamp post kind of illuminated his face for a second and it made your breath hitch. god was he attractive, why did you notice this just now?

"wait... miya? as in onigiri miya?" you immediately ask as you point at the restaurant place at your back, "you own this place?"

he clears his throat and flicks the empty cig to the bin beside him before he answers, "well, yeah. i'm the head chef."

you were embarrassed to say the least, as you realize that you've been smoking in a private property, and you have the nerve to smoke with the owner himself, not even daring to ask for permission whatsoever. but all of this clouded by the thought that damn he cooks? how attractive is that shit?

"you're probably thinking you're not supposed to be here, aren't you?" he says, both his hands on his pocket, not looking at you. you nod in agreement, a little voice in your head telling you to just finish off your cig, apologize to him for trespassing and walk away. but your body won't let you. so you just stand there, cigarette still lit, in between you fingers.

"it's fine, i don't really mind having an eye candy at the end of a stressful day," he says while he crosses his arm in front of his chest. you look to your side and ogle at his biceps bulging out of his too-tight black.

"thanks, i also don't mind having something good to look at while i take a drag." you answer back, not knowing where the sudden confidence is coming from. you take a step closer to him until both your arms are touching, sending goosebumps to your entire body.

"i'm y/n, by the way. glad i failed at trying to stop smoking," you joke and he chuckles lightly, making something inside you tingle. even his laugh is beguiling, seriously, does this man even have a physical flaw?

"nice to meet you, y/n." he takes a step to face you and skillfully grabbed the cigarette on your lips before putting it in between his. he takes a puff and blew it on your agape mouth, taking you by surprise.

you feel your cheeks burning up after you realize what osamu just did. was that even considered a shotgun? that was so hot. your mind was still short-circuiting when you hear a low chuckle coming from the man in front of you. "sorry, got a little carried away." he says and looks directly onto your eyes, you notice that his pupils are dilated.

he doesn't give you back your cigarette though, he takes another puff and kept it in between his fingers. he's still smirking at you, as if letting you make the next move. so you do, thinking, fuck everything else, you grabbed the back of his nape and pushed it towards your face, crashing your lips together.

the taste of menthol and cigarettes all mixing together as he starts to suck on your mouth, his free hand placed on your waist while his tongue adeptly lick your lips, asking for a chance to enter. you gape your mouth to admit his wet tongue. osamu explores your mouth so good, he tilts his head from time to time to go back to sucking and then licking your mouth. and god does it feel so good, it feels illegal.

he takes a step to guide you, your back feeling the coldness of the wall where he pins and keeps you in place. he breaks the kiss and places the cigarette on your mouth while he drops a kiss to your exposed neck. once he feels you've taken a proper drag, he removes the cig on your mouth and drops it on the floor. he stomps on it and goes back to kissing you.

he sucks the smoke from your mouth and takes a deep breath as he inhales it. you feel a smirk growing in his mouth before he lets out a low laugh and moves back an inch, your mouth meeting air.

"you wanna take this somewhere else, y/n?" his hand placed on the wall beside your head, his eyes filled with lust. "i have a place upstairs," he adds while he looks up the building behind the two of you.

you take all your courage in your body to nod and he immediately grabs your hand at this and drag you to his place.

you didn't even have the chance to appreciate the design of his flat before osamu is kissing you senseless once again. he moves his hands to remove your jacket and the sudden feel of cold air sent goosebumps to your body once again.

he snakes a hand on your waist before he casually lifts you, you let out small gasp before you hook your legs on both sides of his waist. osamu hugs your entire lower torso, making sure you're holding on there tightly before he starts walking.

you open your eyes for a second and realize that he's walking you both to the balcony of his flat. and fuck, the thought of him fucking you while someone could be watching sends shivers to your spine already from excitement.

he loosens his grip on your torso as he lets you down, your bare feet touching the cold tiles of the balcony. he doesn't let your lips go though, he kept kissing and sucking at your lips until he felt breathless.

he holds your shoulders and made you turn your back on him, he scoops some of your hair with his hand and leaves a soft kiss on your exposed neck. "want me to fuck you while people can watch, hmm?" he asks, his voice rough and thick.

you moan in agreement and place you hands on the railings. you bend backward and arch your back so your ass is directly touching his semi hard on. you lustfully look back at him from your shoulders and say, "fuck me good and your neighbors will know your name."

his raises his eyebrows at your taunting and his hands immediately flies to the waistbands of your jeans, he pulls them down in one go, leaving you only in your lace underwear that leaves nothing to the imagination. your toes curl at the sudden gush of cold wind touches your skin but osamu is kneeling in no time, kneading your butt cheeks while mouthing at your still-clothed pussy.

"fuck, you don't know how long i've thought about this," he says as a squeezes your left butt cheek significantly harder. "don't know how much i missed you when you suddenly stopped coming to the that spot, our spot."

he leaves a kiss on your ass cheek and softly bites it for good measure which made your grip on the railings tighten. he takes his one hand and undos his belt, pulling his jeans down and exposing his cock.

osamu leans down, his cock perfectly resting on your ass and you can feel how heavy and thick he is. he was lengthy enough but his girth was the highlight of it, you think to yourself. he snakes his hand under your shirt and grabbed both your boobs, massaging it while his fingers play with your nipples.

you were getting wetter by the second, his now fully hard dick just on your ass and nowhere near your hole where you want it to be is driving you mad. so you try to take matters in your own hands and reach for his cock from your behind.

"getting restless, hmm? want me to fuck you now? without prep?"

"osamu," you whine as you grind your ass on his crotch.

"okay, baby. i'm gonna stretch you out real good." he sneered as he holds his cock in his one hand and the other moving your panties to the side. his dick prodding at your wet entrance made your go your mind turn into a puddle of goo. when the tip is finally in, you both let out a moan, you because of the sudden stretch and him because you're wrapping around him so got.

osamu bottoms out in no time, your heat covering his entire cock and all he could do was groan in pleasure. he grabs your waist and pull himself out until only the tip was inside, then he slams back in. the hard impact of his thrust sent your body bucking onto the railings, your boobs hitting the glass that's keeping you from falling from the 26th floor of the building.

he picks up his pace and doesn't stop his relentless pounding, his hips thrusting into you perfectly, filling you up with his fat cock so good that your brain is fogging with pure bliss.

"look below you, y/n. do you think the people downstairs can see you?" he pulls out then slams back in, "you think they know you're getting absolutely railed by me, huh? when all they could see is someone who's probably enjoying the view."

"little do they know i have the best view right here," he add and bucks his hips forward, hitting a spot that gets him a loud moan from you. "fuuck, i'm close, samu."

osamu's hips stutter at this and he lets out a low grunt. he wraps his arm around your waist and grabs your entire body that your hands had to let go of the railings. he moves to sit both of you down on the floor, his cock still never leaving your hole.

he lays both of you down, you on his chest with your thighs on his legs and his back on the cold tiles. he plants his feet on the floor and a beat doesn't even pass until he's fucking into you again.

his hands grab at your waist to keep you in place above his cock. you were cumming in no time from the unabated thrusting of osamu's dick into you and him continuously hitting the spot that sends you into frenzy.

your legs were still shaking when osamu pulled out of you as he gasps while spurts of his cum fly onto your stomach and thighs. you stay like that for a minute, gasping for air and still reeling from the feeling being fucked out of your minds.

"i'm going to stop smoking," you say out of nowhere and he laughs at this and asks "why?"

"i think i just found me a new vice." you say with a smile on your face.

#osamu smut #osamu x you #osamu x y/n #osamu x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #there's no real point to this post #onigiri miya #osamu miya #osamu #hq x you #hq x reader #hq osamu #why did i write this #brain rot #smoker

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alderaani · 3 years

Text

more than gold

summary: A lost Jedi Temple, a riddle, some literature, and feelings that Cody isn't ready to speak out loud. | AO3

note: written for @codywanweek and the alt day 5 prompt Sith/Jedi Artefact Shenanigans! sliding in on the last day with one more thing written than expected, so i’m happy with that! i’m pretty ill today so i hope it actually makes some coherent sense 😂 also if the riddle was super obvious, soz, never written one before and turns out it’s really hard.

“You know, I could have sworn I told you not to touch that,” Cody says conversationally, from where he’s splayed out on his back.

“Really? I’m sure I didn’t hear you,” Obi-Wan says, cheerful despite being crumpled in a heap. His elbow is in Cody’s gut. Cody glares at him.

The room they’re lying in is circular, stone, carved out of some Forced-damned mountain and according to Obi-wan, practically thrumming with power. The ceiling is high and vaulted, letting in slivers of light where intricate mirror systems catch the sunlight of double suns and project it deep underground. It takes on a slightly blue cast, reflecting off the huge pool of water they were lucky to not fall into. Four walkways at each cardinal point lead to a central platform, and interspersed between them are four waterfalls.

It should be serene. Except now the waterfalls are travelling backwards, and all the doors, including the one they came in by, are blocked. Cody scrambles up onto his elbows, dislodging Obi-Wan with a grunt.

“What did you do?”

Obi-Wan follows his gaze and gasps, delighted. “Now, will you look at that?”

Cody is looking. Frankly, he doesn’t trust this place enough to not keep his eye on it at all times. Obi-Wan keeps saying that this temple was built long ago, by ancient, peaceful Jedi as a place of learning, and that it won’t hurt them. After they got cut off from the rest of their men at the entrance, however, Cody thinks he could be forgiven for having his doubts.

As Obi-Wan himself proves, peace-keeping hardly rules out danger.

“Amazing,” Obi-Wan breathes, hoisting himself to his feet without a second glance, to walk back up to the plinth and stalk round it, examining the incomprehensible runes engraved there.

Cody is left to peel himself off the floor, and instead goes to prod at the barriers now sealing the exits with the end of his blaster. He tries not to look too much at Obi-Wan, at the soft sweep of his hair and the span of his shoulders. Being on their own like this is something he’s avoided, of late - not because he doesn’t enjoy it, but because he’s starting to enjoy it all too much.

He doesn’t trust the way his heart leaps when Obi-Wan smiles, when he asks him to call him ‘Obi-Wan’, when the cycle draws on and they’re up late again, companionably finishing reports and debating strategy. Or, as they had been doing until Cody got cold feet and started finding excuses, debating novels, which Obi-Wan checked out of the Temple archives and read aloud, one chapter at a time, before they turned in for the night.

He doesn’t trust himself not to ruin this by overstepping. There’s something about his general that makes him lose all control of his tongue, and puts him in danger of voicing thoughts that really he should not be having at all.

It’s agony. It’s bliss. It’s stretching him to breaking point, and this is possibly the worst situation they could have ended up in, really.

“These are made out of water,” he says over his shoulder, grunting as he tries to push his blaster through. He is, of course, unsuccessful.

“Ingenious,” Obi-Wan says. “How did they manage that, I wonder?”

Cody cuts a glance back at him, and grins, despite his exasperation.

“You’re not more worried about how we’re going to get out?”

Obi-Wan waves a hand. “I’m sure the path will reveal itself, in time. Oh, look - Cody, I think this is a puzzle!”

Cody bites back a groan. They do not have time for this. They never really had time for it, but Obi-Wan promised it would be a brief detour on their way to the capital for hyperspace lane access negotiations. He’d looked so excited by recon reports of a lost temple that Cody just hadn’t been able to say no. He’s never able to say no to Obi-Wan, even when he isn’t following orders. It’s probably his fatal flaw.

“I don’t suppose there’s an off switch? A back button?” He asks hopelessly. The Force, at least the Jedi sort, very rarely seems to work that way. Obi-Wan is always talking about moving through problems, about seeking balance and adapting to what’s around you, rather than manipulating it. It’s not Cody’s favoured approach; he was trained to leverage his environment to its maximum advantage, and finds he has little patience for anything else.

Obi-Wan snorts. “This is a defensive mechanism, I’m afraid. Judging by the architecture this was built at the height of the Sith Wars. This artefact is designed to trap us here until we understand the mechanism and progress, or until, back when the temple was occupied, someone would come and deal with the intruder.”

“That doesn’t sound very peaceful,” Cody says.

Obi-Wan shoots him an amused look, the warm, soft kind that makes heat rise from the pit of Cody’s belly right up to his ears.

“Even a pacifist may defend himself,” he says, then leans over the pedestal. “Now, how about you stop grousing and come help me with this?”

Cody rolls his eyes, but goes, slinging his blaster across his back and crossing his arms.

“And stop looming,” Obi-Wan laughs, catching one of Cody’s gloved hands and pulling it down to rest at his side. The simple touch makes Cody’s cheeks burn.

“Don’t see what help I can give you, Sir,” he says, frowning down at the characters surrounding the bright blue artefact. “I was never any good at Ithorian.”

Obi-Wan pauses, then tilts his head up. “Ah. Is that what it is?”

“I - I think so?” Cody was never any good at his language flashtraining; he never had the proper patience for it, but he can usually figure out the basics.

“No, no,” Obi-Wan muses, stroking at his beard with his free hand. “You’re quite right. Goodness me, it's been a long time since I last saw this dialect. Let’s see now…”

Cody steps back and waits, keeping his attention firmly split between their blocked exit points while Obi-Wan ponders. The slow upward movement of the waterfalls is eerie - it still makes noise, but none of it is right. Instead of the gentle patter he expects of water joining a larger pool, there’s a faint gurgling as they move further into each grate, travelling somewhere he cannot see.

Obi-Wan finishes his fifth circle round the platform, and the hand at his chin goes still. Cody stands at attention, expectant.

“It’s a riddle,” Obi-Wan says, and if possible, his delight grows. “Yes - the language is coming back to me now. Do you know, I haven’t looked at Ithorian in maybe 12 years?”

“Sir?” Cody says, tilting his head to look at the characters more closely. He doesn’t have even a passing proficiency at modern Ithorian, and presumably it’s changed a bit over the millennia. His training was focused on the basics, and only the useful bits, at that. He thinks he can make out the words for ‘ water ’, and ‘ enemy’ , both of which are either unhelpfully descriptive or frankly discouraging, but that’s about the extent of it.

“My old master - he loved prophecies. When I was a teenager I could never see the point of it, but it meant I spent a lot of time learning the old Ithorian dialects. They’re known as the most peaceful species, did you know?” Obi-Wan shakes his head. “They’ll exile anyone violent, it’s quite remarkable, really. I suppose in some sort of idealistic emulation, a lot of the early Jedi texts are written in their dialect.”

His blue eyes are keen, his laser sharp focus firmly on the podium. It gives Cody a moment to observe his clever fingers, the long line of his neck, the open delight with which he tackles this new problem. It’s a rare thing, to see him so relaxed, and Cody can’t help the fond smile that creeps up on him despite the circumstances. This almost makes it worth it, and on reflection, he’d rather an ancient temple than the last thing that had made Obi-Wan so happy; a wretched, bioluminescent fungus, which had infected half the battalion and given them hives. Their general had studied it for weeks.

Obi-Wan’s lips quirk up. Cody barely trusts himself to speak.

“I didn’t know, Sir,” Cody croaks, then pauses, fishing for something normal to say. “Didn’t we have to defend the governor’s daughter from an Ithorian bounty hunter on Ganaris-IV?”

“Well,” Obi-Wan grins. “Those exiles have to go somewhere, don’t they?”

Cody huffs a laugh and reaches up to scratch his neck at the seam of his bucket.

“Let’s just hope they didn’t all come here. What’s this riddle, then?”

Obi-Wan shifts to the side, then points at a spot on the podium. “As I said, it’s been a long time, but I think it starts here, and goes something like:

A thing to be forged, where water is thicker,

Worth more than gold, unless it’s pyrite that glitters.

An enemy of my enemy, or in hard times, in need,

Sometimes fair-weather, or in high places indeed.

What are you, traveller? ”

All of Cody’s hopes that it would be something nice and obvious, like “lightsaber” or, given what’s going on around them, “gravity”, escape from him like smoke. Jedi and their metaphors. It’s not just a quirk of Obi-Wan’s, clearly.

“Does that mean anything to you, Sir?” he asks, turning the words over in his head once, twice, then frowning when nothing comes immediately.

Obi-Wan’s brow is also furrowed, but in a leisurely, meditative manner.

“...I have some ideas, I think,” he says. “How about you, my friend?”

What does he think? He thinks that there are other sorts of puzzles he is much better suited to. Word play and idioms...what does a clone have to offer that?

Still, Obi-Wan is watching him, expectant and gentle, and he sifts back through the lines, a little more seriously this time.

“Ice, maybe?”

Obi-Wan nods, slowly. “Perhaps. Walk me through it.”

Cody swallows. “Ice is something that can be made, right? It’s not exactly forged, but…”

He trails off in uncertainty.

“Go on,” Obi-Wan says with another one of those soft, devastating smiles. It fractures all the thoughts in Cody’s head, and he has to stop, clear his throat and gather up all the pieces.

“I suppose...it’s just thicker water, isn’t it? On warm planets it’s a valuable commodity, it’s found in high places, and I suppose if you wanted snow, a freeze would be fair weather.”

Obi-Wan is rubbing his beard again, and he’s still smiling. “Fascinating. I would never have thought of that...only, I don’t think it’s quite there. That mention of pyrite is troublesome, and the ‘enemy of my enemy’, where does that fit in?”

Cody shrugs his shoulders, frustrated, and feels a hot flush creep up his neck. “Don’t know why you’re asking me, to be honest, Sir. Kamino hardly covered poetry.”

There’s a slight pause, then Obi-Wan’s hand is on his again, tugging it slowly down from where he’s crossed his arms.

“I wish you wouldn’t do that,” he says, soft.

“Do what?” Cody’s voice is gruff.

“Dismiss yourself. You do it sometimes when we’re reading together. There is often no right and wrong answer to these things, no secret. There is only perspective, and you see things I never would, if only you would trust yourself.”

Cody looks down and away, back towards the waterfalls and their slow, glacial climb. He isn’t sure that’s true. He enjoys what Obi-Wan shares with him, what other lives he gets to touch in their books, but more than anything they convince him that, beyond war, he knows very little of anything at all. He would like to, someday.

His eyes land on Obi-Wan’s lips briefly, before he tears them away. Particular experiences he would like to know more than others.

There was one book that Obi-Wan had read early on, back when this infatuation was just setting its first tendrils into him, about a forbidden romance at the heart of the old Mandalorian court. Two heirs of rival clans battling to be together against the good approval of their noble relatives. It had been torrid, ridiculous and entirely unexpected when Obi-Wan had suggested they break up their reports with some literature.

But what it had done was give him the words to express the crawling heat in his stomach, the urge he has to reach out, to touch, to soothe, to care for. He’d known what he wanted before that, of course, in a more rudimentary manner, but it had gifted him the language of yearning.

Suddenly, a particular passage springs into his mind and he straightens.

“You don’t think it could mean ally, do you? In Beneath the Armour, Mata threatens Clan Riza by saying he has ‘allies in high places’.”

Obi-Wan pauses, and then a brilliant smile spreads over his face. “Yes, that’s it! Pyrite - Fool’s Gold; a false friend! Brilliant Cody, whatever made you think of that?”

Cody grins, even though Obi-Wan can’t see it, and doesn’t answer.

“Is that really it?”

“I think you’re very close,” Obi-Wan says. “The characters engraved into the platform...yes! Stand close to me, Commander.”

Cody does, watching curiously as Obi-Wan lifts his hands, shuts his eyes, frowns, and pushes . Six blocks that make up the platform lift, the characters on each glowing bright, lurid blue. Under their feet, something scrapes, shifts and clunks, before the platform lurches upwards, spinning gently.

There’s a thunderous gurgling sound, before all of the pool beneath drains away.

“The answer,” Obi-Wan says, slightly breathless, his hair a little out of place. “Was friend.”

“The doorways are still blocked,” Cody notes drily. The plinth with the blue orb that started this whole mess has also risen, and underneath it are a set of very wet, slimy looking steps. “I don’t suppose it’s as simple as just walking down these and getting in?”

“Likely not,” Obi-Wan agrees, then inexplicably shifts a little closer, so that they are sharing space. Cody’s heart skips a beat. “But it’s like I told you, Cody. You are far greater than what you have been given.”

Cody coughs and looks at his feet, at their boots almost toe to toe, pleasure at the praise singing low through his body.

“Now,” Obi-Wan says, too close and not close enough. “How do you feel about another puzzle?”

Cody groans, laughing, and after a moment, follows his General into the dark.

#codywanweek2021 #codywan #obi wan kenobi #commander cody #alderwrites #i would tag this jedi culture but i literally pulled this out of my ass #there is absolutely no basis in canon here #only vibes #the clone wars #star wars #codywan week 2021

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deja-you · 3 years

Text

Starlight

m. de lafayette x reader

chapter four | champagne and sunsets

summary: it was never your intent to be anything more than a common thief, but fate—and a rather attractive general—have other plans for you.

word count: 2.5k

masterlist | previous | next

The expression the receptionist makes when she hands over the key to the honeymoon suite is a little too suggestive, but other than that, you find that Ambros is a rather lovely planet. The high ceilings and gilded artwork on the walls of the hotel you were staying at were a mere microcosms for the glistening planet itself, rich off tourists and natural minerals. You had a brief amount of time to read up on the history of the planet from a pamphlet at the front desk while Lafayette was checking in.

The elevator ride to the twelfth floor is quick, and you and Lafayette carry your luggage to room 1215. With the slide of the key, the door swings open and you take in the sight before you. The room is spacious with large windows and a balcony facing out over the rose-colored sea. There's a large king-sized bed that takes up most of the space, rose petals strewn over the sheets. Romantic.

A golden bottle of champagne sits in an ice bucket calling out to you. You drop your bags to the floor and make your way to the champagne where you find a small note from the hotel congratulating you and Lafayette on your wedding. You stifle a laugh and brandish the bottle for Lafayette to see.

"Free champagne," you grin.

Lafayette raises an eyebrow. "Starlight, we're working. This isn't a vacation."

You roll your eyes. "I'm aware, but that doesn't mean we can't have a little fun. Congress is paying for the room, we really shouldn't let that money go to waste, right?"

He gives you a pointed look. "Your logic is flawed."

You sigh and put the bottle back down into the bucket; maybe you'll revisit the idea of opening the bottle of alcohol if he is going to be so uptight for the entire mission.

"I'm going to go scout the area," you mutter to him, coming up with an excuse to leave your shared living area. It's probably a good idea to memorize the layout anyway. You barely register Lafayette's response as you begin to explore the resort.

There are two entire floors dedicated just to the casino, and you make a note to yourself to check them out before you leave. A few restaurants: fine dining on the lower levels, small cafes toward the middle of the building, and a bar on one of the top observation decks. There are many attractions your hotel offers, and you decide to check out the conservatory on the twenty-ninth floor.

It's rather busy around this time of day, but the conservatory is expansive enough that you can walk around freely without bumping elbows with anyone. Walking from section to section, you slyly listen to bits and pieces of conversation hoping to pick up a lead on your target. Some time passes and realizing that you've examined a starfire flower one too many times, you decide it's time to search somewhere else.

In the elevator, you catch sight of the label "pool" on the highest level and don't think twice before pushing the button. Moments later, the elevator has shot into the sky, and with a ding, the doors roll open to reveal the light purple of the twilight sky. The weather is just right when you step out onto the roof, the warm climate of the planet combatted nicely with the early evening breeze.

Most guests are attending dinner at this time or going to see a show in one of the many theaters, so the pool deck is all yours for the taking. It's been a long day for you, so you think you deserve a little bit of self-indulgence. Removing your shoes, you sit down by the pool that seems to stretch on forever, reflecting the sky on its calm surface, and you dip your feet into the tranquil waters. Closing your eyes, you allow yourself to soak in the peace of the moment.

It feels like an eternity, but when you open your eyes and see that the sun has hardly moved from its low place in the sky, you know you haven't been up here too long. You hear the sound of the elevator doors opening and immediately you tense up in annoyance that someone would come to bother your solitude. You're about to pull your legs out of the water when the intruder speaks.

"I had a feeling I'd find you up here."

You turn your head slightly to see Lafayette walking toward you. You relax a bit. Once he approaches your side, he sits down next to you, and to your surprise, he rolls up his pant legs and dips his feet into the water beside you.

"Found any leads yet?" He asks.

You hum a response and shake your head. "No. You?"

"Nothing on out target, but I'm pretty sure there's a young cardshark in the casino that's been conning wealthy guests out of their money," he says.

This makes you smile a little. "Good for them. I used to do similar work."

"I'm just going to assume you mean working in a casino and not being a con-artist."

“What? We met because I decided to con you; are you not a fan of the business?” You lightly nudge his shoulder with your own as you tease him.

“Starlight, it’s illegal,” he points out.

“Only if you get caught.”

“But you did get caught.”

You purse your lips. “Yes, because I saved your life. You wouldn’t have ever found me if I didn’t have that one moral lapse of judgement.”

“Moral lapse of judgement?”

“Mm, yes,” you hum, “I was quite successful looking out for myself and making a living. It’s a shame I suddenly felt a sense of conviction and decided to save your life.”

Lafayette snorts at this. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you had a change of heart.”

You study his face in the dying light, pushing down the butterflies in your stomach that inevitably appear when he gives you that sideways smile. In this quiet moment, you take the time to admire the golden lines that run from his ears up the side of his forehead, intricately linking and marking him as Franco nobility. You want to memorize them and draw the patterns on your own skin; they’re beautiful. Before he can see that you’ve been staring, you look away, eyes falling to the reflections in the pool. You’re happy to be here now with him.

“For what it’s worth, I’m glad, too.”

When the last of the daylight finally leaves the sky, Lafayette stands to his feet and offers you a hand. You accept, pulling yourself up to your full height. It's too cold to stay on the rooftop any longer, so the two of you step into the elevator and press the button for your room number.

The elevator ride is uneventful, and when you get to your floor, the cool evening air greets you once again. The wide halls of your floor have open walls, large columns are wedged between the floor and the ceiling. You and Lafayette lazily walk down the hall, not in a rush to be anywhere. There are a few other guests meandering about in the open air, and that's when you spot the group of New Britannia soldiers making their way down the hall.

Ambros is such a lovely planet, you nearly forget it's currently New Britannia territory in a bordering system. Troops of soldiers police the planet, checking credentials and arresting anyone they suspect have ties to the United Planets of Amerigo.

The troops are making their way down the hall, speaking with guests occasionally and checking their papers. Your heart begins to thrash against the walls of your ribcage as they get nearer. Lafayette bares the markings of Franco nobility, and Francosia has been known to sympathize with Amerigo.

In a split second, you've made up your mind.

Taking Lafayette's hand in yours, you pull him over to a column, adjusting the both of you to where you are placed with your back to the pillar and Lafayette in front of you. You guide his hands to your waist, and while he looks a bit bewildered, he allows your movements. Your hands reach up to cup either side of his face, your fingers deliberately covering up the golden markings on his face. You pull him closer so you are standing cheek to cheek as you hear the soldiers’ footsteps get closer.

“Just go along with it until they’re gone,” you whisper into his ear, smiling against his skin as if you’re saying something scandalous.

His eyes flicker to the soldiers with a look of realization before looking back to you. You press your lips against his cheek, and Lafayette seems to get the message, because the next thing you know, he’s wraps his arms around your waist and pushes you roughly against the stone behind you. Lafayette buries his face in the nape of your neck, leaving a trail of kisses over your shoulder and along your collarbone.

His lips find a sweet spot, and he begins sucking a hickey into your skin, causing a soft moan to escape your lips. With one hand shielding his face from the passing soldiers, your other hand finds its place at the back of his neck. You can’t help but wonder when the Amerigo Army had time to teach its generals this technique.

The soldiers pass you with no problems, muttering something about “lovebirds” under their breath. Lafayette seems to have forgotten all about them, his lips moving up your neck to your cheek. He’s placing a kiss on the corner of your lips when you come back to your senses and lightly tug on the lapels of his suit.

“Love,” you say, and the both of you are both hyper-aware of how desperate and breathy your voice sounds. “Maybe we should take this back to the bedroom.”

His eyes meet yours, and he seems to understand the meaning behind your words. To your surprise, Lafayette picks you up bridal style and carries you back to the room. Once inside, he kicks shut the door behind the two of you and sets you down gently on the bed. Now that it’s just the two of you, Lafayette takes a step back from you. Tension lingers in the air.

“I… I’m sorry about that.” Lafayette’s eyes trail to the ground, obviously embarrassed.

You clear your throat, skin still warm from the moment before. “There’s nothing to apologize for. It was all just part of the cover.”

There is an awkward moment of silence between the two of you. Finally, he nods and moves toward the bathroom.

“Well, we have a long day tomorrow.”

“Yes, we should probably get ready for bed then,” you agree.

Lafayette spares you one last look, attempts a smile, and disappears into the bathroom. You hear the shower being turned on seconds later and take that as your cue to change into your nightgown. You slip into the cool covers of the bed, propping yourself up on the pillows until you find a comfortable place for yourself. While you wait for Lafayette to finish showering, you pull out your tablet and begin reading up on Ambrosian customs; you can never be too informed.

You have no idea of how long it has been, but eventually the shower shuts off. A few moments later the door swings open, and Lafayette steps out.

"About time," you tease. "Thought I'd never get a chance to brush my teeth."

"Next time you can join me. I hate to think you've been sitting out here bored," he responds.

You'd like to take a moment to think about how incredibly flirtatious his comment is, but your mind goes blank when you look up at him. He's fresh out of the shower, hair still wet. Lafayette wears a pair of dark sweatpants that hang too low on his waist. He's not wearing a shirt, and you can't help but stare at his toned skin. His stomach and arms are well-defined, and you catch the golden glint of the small medallion he wears around his neck.

He shrugs on a white t-shirt, and you can tell his body is still wet from the shower by the way the shirt clings to his torso. Never before have you wanted to be a t-shirt so badly in your life. You feel your face heat up, and you are in the process of pulling your gaze away from him, when he looks up and meets your eyes. The way his lips curved up into a smirk left you with a visceral feeling.

“S’there something I can help you with, starlight?” His tone is light and playful.

Your throat is dry, but you manage to get out, “I can think of a few things.”

Lafayette throws his head back and laughs quietly at your response, and you despise the way your heart crashes against its cage at his actions. You slide out of bed and move past him into the bathroom, putting toothpaste on your toothbrush and then shoving the toothbrush into your mouth before you say or do anything more that you’ll regret. Lafayette doesn’t notice the way you are aggressively brushing your teeth, and you don’t notice the way his eyes linger on the neckline of your nightgown and the hem that ends at your upper thigh.

When you finish brushing your teeth, Lafayette is taking a pillow off the bed and moving it to the floor.

“What are you doing?” You ask, knowing perfectly well what his intentions are.

He looks at you bewildered. “I just thought it would be—”

“I’m not going to make you sleep on the ground.”

“You’re not making me do anything.”

“Am I really that deplorable to be around?”

“That’s not it.”

“Then what is it?”

Lafayette sort of resembles a deer in headlights at this moment. He shakes his head. “Starlight, we shouldn’t. It’s just that…”

“What? What is it?” Your hands have found their place on your hips and you quirk an eyebrow up at him, waiting for a response.

The answer is on the tip of his tongue. He knows why he shouldn’t share the bed with you, but truth is something he can’t say out loud. Lafayette sighs in defeat, picking up the pillow from the ground and tossing it back to the head of the bed.

Content with your victory, you climb under the covers on your side of the bed. Lafayette is still hesitant, but eventually he climbs into bed as well, keeping an absurd amount of distance from you. You consider making a comment about this, but you’ve already argued with him enough about the bed itself, so you bite your tongue. The light beside your bed is the only thing keeping the room from darkness; you turn it off and settle into bed.

“Goodnight.” You say this quietly, the darkness imbuing the room with a sense of peace that you are all too afraid to mess up.

Lafayette must feel this, too, because his response is a whisper as well. “Goodnight, starlight.”

#lafayette x reader #daveed x reader #james madison #thomas jefferson #thomas jefferson x reader #daveed diggs #daveed diggs x reader #hamilton imagines #hamilton fic #hamilton fanfic #hamilton x reader #reader insert #one shot #enemies to lovers #enemies to friends to lovers #spy!reader #spaceau #scifiau

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sweater-daddiesdumbdork · 3 years

Text

Perfect Imperfections

Sam WIlson One Shot

Summary- 2.7k Sam Wilson x Reader. After a lifetime of issues with your skin that result in some scaring, you have a condition called hidradenitis suppurativa. (a chronic skin condition that has painful flare ups and leaves scars.) Letting Sam see these imperfections scare you, but he is a patient man. Dividers made by @firefly-graphics

Warnings- Needle use, mentions of skin imperfections, sexual moments. This is an 18+ Only Blog.

A/N- This is written for @gotnofucks Body Positivity Challenge. As soon as I saw this challenge, I knew the topic I wanted to tackle with this. Thank you for such a wonderful challenge to participate in. Much Love always babes.

Sam Masterlist

“I have what?” You cringe at the name, it's a long complicated name that ties up your tongue when you try to repeat it, the doctor gives a knowing smile in sympathy.

“Hidradenitis Suppurativa, or HS.” He offered a simpler option for you, maybe one that wasn't so intimidating to say.

“And how do I treat it?” You question nervously, what horror was it going to be? Some sort of surgery, endless medications, injections, or worse… would he tell you there was nothing to do but live with it.

You were tired of living with it, you had the scars left over and really didn't want anymore.

“I’m going to write you a prescription, some antibiotics and an injection that you will need every week.”

Your heart lifted a bit when he filled out the email, sending it to your pharmacy. “Thank you.” you said with some relief that there was a solution to treating it. But nothing could take away what its already left behind.

All your life you lived with these small sores that just came out of nowhere in the worst spots; inside of your thighs, under your breasts, under your arms. All these years you had been embarrassed to go to a doctor about them. But Sam finally convinced you to go when he saw you in pain and refused to let him come near you because they made you feel disgusting.

That was the hardest part of it, was feeling you were hideous when you had someone like Sam who swore up and down every day that you were beautiful and tried so hard to prove it to you. Little text messages throughout the day, a surprise note stuck to the bathroom mirror for you to find, date nights out walking along the street with his arm around you and constantly whispering in your ear how he had the prettiest girl in town. All little things that he was persistent on, and sometimes they even worked. You would feel that shame lifting and your smile brightening for him.

He would wink and press a kiss to your forehead in these moments. “That’s my girl.”

Now you were sitting on the edge of your bed with the injection pen, your hand shaking slightly from the nerves. Earlier a nurse had shown you how to use it, and what to expect.

But stabbing yourself was a different story then letting someone else do it. Your fear was getting the best of you and you had to set the injection pen aside.

You drew in a ragged breath now that you were no longer holding the offending item, scolding yourself for not being able to do something so simple.

Something your body needed desperately, cause maybe the flare ups wouldn't be so bad, you wouldn't be embarrassed to let Sam see you like he wanted, less pain. All of it could be better if you could get past this point.

You never heard Sam come down the hallway towards your bedroom and happened to see you push away the injection, curl up on yourself on the bed. More then anything he wanted to take all of that pain and insecurity away from you, cause damn you were unlike anyone hes dated before. Sweeter then his grandma’s sweet tea, he could just bask in your glow that you brought to a room. Your laughter never failed to catch his attention from across a room and when you would set your sight on him, give that soft affectionate smile. Oh he was done. You made him feel like the only one in the room.

And that was just the minor stuff. Everything in his building relationship with you settled in him as it all being so right, Sam was finding he wanted nothing more then to keep building a life with you. So these moments tore him because he just wanted to fix it for you.

Sam gave a soft knock on the door frame before stepping into the bedroom. “Hey Sugar, you alright?” You rubbed at your face as the bed dipped from Sam sitting next to you and he grasped the injection pen, rolling it lightly in his fingers.

“Yes…” You lied at first and Sam gave you a look, an arch of his brow that asked for the truth. “No. Im supposed to inject that and fuck it, my hand wont stop shaking just thinking about it.” You grasped your hands together and held them still.

Sam rolled the injection in his own hands and tilted his head towards you, ghosting his lips against your cheek. “Would you like me to give it to you?”

You cringed a bit, not that you didn't trust him, you trusted Sam immensely. You trusted him more everyday that you two were together. Sam was your strength, the one you leaned on.

But you haven't been able to give up your body issues. That was something you were still scared to death for him to see. So much you wouldn't even let him see you completely naked in the light. Every night you would scramble to darken the room before settling into bed for the night. The horrible scars between your thighs that prevented you from wearing shorts or short skirts, the flare ups that shamed you till you would hide away making some lame excuse why you couldn't go out. Now this, having to take the shot made you squirm a bit to top all the other stuff.

Sam tilted his head to brush his lips to your shoulder, trying to ease you. “If you want, I can give it to you. My Gram used to have me help her once in a while with her diabetes injections. You have a trained professional right here.” He tried putting you at ease, getting you through your uncomfortable feelings, but you pulled away a bit more.

“No, it's not entirely that Sam.” You twisted your fingers together, looking down. “It’s-uhh- fuck. It's complicated.”

He frowned a bit, setting the injection aside and reached his hand to cover yours, tugging lightly till your fingers weaved with his. “Well then let's uncomplicate it Y/N.”

You lifted your gaze to look at him, this man who had the softest brown eyes and a smile that made your insides melt with just a few words, you felt silly, guilty and like a disappointment admitting anything out loud.

“Me, I'm a mess. I will always have to do these shots, my body is going to have these issues whenever it feels like, I hate looking like this, I'm so scared to let you see me…” You dropped it all, Sam’s hand giving slight squeezes and when your voice started to crack, your words getting ahead of thoughts so they were all a rush, he reached to twist you to face him, his hands moving to cup your face, thumbs sweeping sway at some of those tears tracking down your face.

“Oh Sugar, if you could see what I see, you wouldn't be worried about what I see anymore. Your stunning, fucking beautiful baby and I’m more then happy to remind you everyday.”

“You don’t know Sam, it's so ugly…” You started and he let his forehead lean against yours to calm you. You felt his hands slide around you and yours eased around him, breathe in, breathe out, let your mind stop racing.

“You don’t have to show me today, or tomorrow. Never if you are never okay with it. It's not going to change what I feel and know. So I will remind you everyday that you are the most beautiful woman to me. You love me flaws and all after all.”

You rolled your eyes a bit, scoffing. “You make it easy Sam.”

Winking at you, he slid his hands up and down your back while he eased away. “And you don’t? Sugar, you are so good to me that Sarah already told me I would be a fool to let you get away.” You could feel yourself loosening in his hold, your own arms circling up around his neck to press against him, each hugging one another. You could feel soft presses of his lips to your neck, squeezing you a bit closer. “And I agree.”

You giggled softly, nuzzling in against him and letting his strong feel and warmth wash over you. Hints of warm cedar and sandalwood tickled your nose, and suddenly everything was just better. You pulled away with a gentle “Thank You Handsome”

“Anytime Baby… now... “ He picked up the injection one more time and dragged his teeth against his bottom lip for a moment in thought. “We don’t have to rush with anything until you are ready. But this…” He tapped the pen against his fingers. “Will you let me help you with it?”

You nodded and he moved to kneel in front of you, heavy palms rubbing against the top of your jean clad thighs as you moved your shirt up over your belly.

“I don’t know why I’m so nervous about this.” You say shakily and Sam smiles that reassuring one of his that makes you feel at ease.

“Don’t you worry Sugar, I got you.” He was gentle when he pinched a bit of your skin and pressed the pen to the area. You started shivering, your breathing caught. “Hey, look at me, m’kay?” It took a moment to pry your eyes away from the pen to his warm eyes. “Not gonna hurt, I promise.”

Then there was a loud click and you jumped more in surprise at the sudden noise than anything. A slight sting was soon erased with giddiness that it was over and he was pulling the now emptied pen away from your belly. You sagged slightly in relief and Sam pushed himself up, gripping your chin gently and pressing an affectionate kiss to your mouth.

“Told you Sugar, I got you.”

Couple Months Later

You and Sam were messing around on the couch, your head laughing as he hovered over you, he was belting out a very off key rendition of Barry White’s Your Sweetness Is My Weakness while skimming fingers along your sides under your tank top and kissing down your neck. Your hands rubbed over his head to fist in the back of his shirt and tug it over his head, discarding it over the back of the cough. His own rucking your tank top over your head and leaning back on his thighs, whistling at you all stretched out before him on the couch, making you cover your face in embarrassment. “Hey, none of that. Fuck Sugar, you are so damn fine.” that last word hissed from between his teeth as his eyes dripped molten warmth, flaring in the pit of your belly.

You peeked at him from between your fingers and arched slightly to reach behind you, unsnapping your bra and he eased it down, giving a groan.

A very appreciative groan. The groan of a man who saw something he really wanted.

His mouth landed on you as well as his hands, roaming supple soft curves and tasting your sweet skin, like a collection of honey dew salt on his tongue. A nipple swirled around his tongue with a hum that was like a jolt to your system.

Lacing your veins with desire, you felt the mindless buzz of worries start to fade to the background while you enjoyed the sensations he built in you. Now and then you would catch sight of his gaze flickering upwards to you, a check in that you were okay with how this was progressing. Your body had a mind of its own, clearly aware of how to roll under his hands, enabling him to shift you further down the couch till he was inching to a kneel between your spread thighs. His hands slipped over your hips to hook his fingers in the band of your shorts, your hips arched for him to drag them away, but that is where Sam stopped. You gave an impatient whine and flickered your gaze up at him. A slight sheen of sweat coasted across his broad tensed chest, every part of him held back with anticipation, and you couldn't for the life of you figure out why Sam stopped right here.

“This is what you want, Sugar? Are you okay with this?”

Then it occurred to you he was giving you the option to say no. Some of those anxieties started to drift back, your fingers twisting together as you spiraled away from the moment. You wished he just kept going, not giving you the option. But that wasn't who Sam was.

It was now or never, and your resolve settled in you, almost a comfort that you were taking this step with him. A nod made Sam drag his teeth across his bottom lip, taking your confirmation to continue.

You squeezed your eyes shut while your shorts came off, and you felt the familiar calloused hands sweep along the inside of your thighs and spread you open wider, a soft gasp from him making your eyes shoot open in fear, was he repulsed by the scars?! You knew you should have never let it get this far. Everything in you was afraid to look and see his reaction, just picturing his handsome face looking at you in disgust.

What you saw was anything but, Sam looked you up and down with nothing but lust in his eyes and an appreciative groan as he let his thumb trace along your slit, spreading your lips apart. “Y/N, you are absolutely beautiful Sugar, and all for me? What a gift.”

You hovered at the pool side bar while Natasha mixed together a luscious fruity drink, anyone who said these drinks were “girly” simply didn't know. The amount of liquor she mixed with vibrant syrups till you had a tropical blue concoction would get you buzzed faster than any one shot of liquor could. It was just what you wanted. An explosion of fruit on your tongue that would leave you feeling good. When she handed it over, you sipped from the frosty edge with an appreciative hum. “Mmhh, perfect.” You praise while she wedged on a pineapple slice to the brim.

“I know, you are telling me nothing new Y/N.” She teased while she whipped up her own, the red head sauntering out from behind the bar with her own drink, the two of you approaching the pool side to sit in the warm sunshine. Natasha settled in one lounger, stretching herself out with another sip of her drink before setting it aside.

You spread a towel out and then unwrapped your cover to let your two piece bikini be revealed, no longer hiding yourself away.

You felt no more shame in the scars inside your thighs, the dimpling of skin where sore have healed over and over. Sam had helped you chase those fears away over time and now when you applied your sunscreen, you looked over your shoulder to see Sam strolling along the pools edge, his eyes all over you with a wide grin. Making his way over to you two, his hand sweeping around you to grasp your sunscreen bottle while kissing your shoulder. “Let me Sugar... “ He brushed his nose against your neck while moving to sit in the other seat, scooting closer to spread the sunscreen across your shoulders. “You look fantastic by the way. Is this a new swimsuit?”

You hummed while tilting your head forward, popping a shoulder as if it was no big deal, but it was the first time you had worn a swimsuit out in public in longer than you could remember. You felt his arms circle your mid section, pulling you back into his set so you could lounge back against his chest, your legs weaved through his.

“Brand new Sam, do you like it?”

He growled lightly against your ear while nipping your earlobe, whispering against the shell of your ear while he flushed playful kisses to that sweet spot just behind your ear.

“Very much so, good luck stopping me from peeling you from it later.”

Playful touches and heated kisses made you feel just like his queen in the summertime sunshine, unable to keep his affections to himself.

#dibspositivitychallenge #sam wilson x reader #bodypositivity #tw hs #tw skin condition #tw needles #amber writes #sweater writes

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irishseeeker · 3 years

Link

the story of us

summary: Five times Kate Sheffield and Anthony Bridgeton were just friends and one time they were more.

find chapter 1 here or here

find chapter 2 here or here

find chapter 3 here or here

find chapter 4 here or here

find chapter 5 part 1 here or here

----

chapter 5 part 2: all along there was some invisible string tying you to me

Anthony Bridgerton was an idiot.

He wasn’t just an idiot. You see, usually idiots are not aware of their idiocy. They live carefree and blissfully unaware of their idiocy.

Anthony knew he was being an idiot.

It was eating him alive.

He didn’t stop it, though. He didn’t know what else to do. He kept his distance from Kate as much as he could. It was the only thing he could think to do.

It was just so difficult.

He would screw it up. He would break them. It’s what he did. He screwed things up. He had nearly screwed things up with Daphne and Simon, he had screwed things up with Siena and he would screw things up with Kate.

Kate had been a constant in his life since he was nineteen years old.

Kate was his lifeline.

Anthony knew he shouldn’t put that all on her but he didn’t have a choice. There was nothing he could control when it came to Kate Sheffield. He had been completely hers since the moment they sat down in that lecture hall and she announced that he was wrong to their entire lecture.

Then proceeded to argue with him for the next thirty minutes.

He never stood a chance.

Kate deserved everything. She didn’t need someone who had an irrational fear of dropping dead from a bee sting and couldn’t manage a healthy relationship.

It’s not like he tried.

What was the point? They weren’t Kate.

Anthony needed time.

He needed time to figure it out. He could manage it. He had to get his head straight and learn to just erase his feelings and the constant pain. He had to learn to adapt and inevitably watch her be happy with someone else.

If they got too close, they would implode. The fine line between them had grown thinner and thinner and they were in the danger zone. They had been since their kiss.

It couldn’t happen again.

The thing about Kate was she still had that magic.

Kate believed in love. Kate wanted that struck by lightning, unconditional and inconceivable type of love. She deserved that type of love.

Kate deserved to feel the way Anthony felt every time he looked at her.

Anthony wasn’t a complete pessimist, he knew love existed. He had grown up watching his parents madly in love until his dad died. His mother had barely recovered from it. Anthony still hadn’t recovered from it. Violet Bridgerton still had bad days, days where she forgot to pick up Hyacinth or Gregory from school or lay in bed all day, barely moving. How could he do that to Kate? How could he let himself go through that?

That type of love wasn’t something he could give her.

That’s why he couldn't try with Kate. If there was a chance something could happen between them, he wouldn’t take it.

He wouldn't ruin that kind of love for her.

He would always love her, he would just have to let someone else do it.

He just had to figure out how to.

His only plan so far was avoiding her.

That plan was pretty flawed so far.

Anthony didn’t want to hurt Kate. He knew he was hurting her anyway, he didn’t miss her hurt expressions or uncharacteristic silences when he made an excuse that he had to go out for a while or that he would be late coming home. He was trying to fix things before something bad happened.

It’s just incredibly difficult to avoid the one person you spend all your time with and you happen to live with.

He wasn’t necessarily avoiding her, he was just distancing himself temporarily from her while he sorted things out. which is something he liked to convince himself of to try not feel like a complete and utter asshole.

He had even booked hotel rooms to try to get some sleep. How could he sleep when Kate was a few metres away from him? How could he concentrate on anything but Kate when she was close to him?

He needed to protect them.

He needed boundaries.

He also needed Kate.

“Anthony!” Hyacinth shouted cheerfully, grinning widely at her brother as she ran towards him from the school’s front door. Anthony had been leaning against the railing of the gate, waiting for Hyacinth and Gregory to finish school.

His afternoon meetings had been cancelled so he called their nanny, Pippa and told her to take the rest of the day off. His mother had been down at Aubrey Hall for the week with builders planning some reconstruction and she was due back this evening. She hadn’t said anything yet but he suspected it had something to do with preparations for Daphne’s wedding. Anthony wanted to see his siblings and he needed a distraction from the million thoughts running through his head.

“Hi titch,” Anthony said, grinning back at her as he leaned down and picked her up, resting her on his hip. She was too old at seven to be carried around, but he didn’t really care. He needed Hyacinth to stay little for as long as possible. “How was school? Have you seen Greg?”

“It was fun,” She murmured, resting her cheek on his shoulder and letting out a small yawn. “We had to draw our favourite animal, so I obviously drew Newton.”

Anthony couldn’t stop the smirk breaking out on his face. “Obviously. Can I see?”

Hyacinth nodded slowly, wiggling out of his arms so she could open up her Jurassic Park backpack. She pulled out a piece of paper with her drawing, which had a crayon version of what Anthony guessed was Hyacinth, Gregory, Kate, Anthony and the ginger blob in the middle that was Newton.

Something inside of Anthony’s chest clenched.

“Be careful,” Hyacinth scolded, prying the paper out of Anthony’s hands. “I’m going to give it to Kate.”

Anthony bent down to Hyacinth’s eye level, smiling at her as he held open her back and put the picture back inside. “Kate will love it.”

Kate would love it. She was so incredible with Hyacinth and Gregory and they adored her. Kate kept everything they had given her over the years, it had been pinned up on Anthony’s fridge along with the drawings and pictures he’d received from them since Kate had moved in.

They also adored her demon corgi, who had taken over Anthony’s flat for weeks. The little shit climbed into his bed every single night and he knew Anthony wouldn’t kick him out. He had given up a long time ago.

He also started walking him whenever Kate couldn’t, she usually brought him in the evenings and Anthony in the morning when he went for his daily jog.

It made Kate insanely happy when he did it, so obviously Anthony was going to do it.

He had quickly snapped a sly picture when Hyacinth wasn’t looking, he had to send it to Kate. There was no harm in it. Right?

It was just a picture.

Anthony: [sent an image]

Anthony: Your demon inspired Hyacinth’s picture for animal day. She’s excited to show you this later.

Kate: omg. I want to cry that is so bloody cute. Can’t wait to pin it up on the fridge. You look like you’ve put on a few pounds though x

Kate: please do not talk about your godson like that

Anthony: Please, I’m still the best looking guy you’ll ever know.

Kate: sorry, it’s spelled p-a-t-h-e-t-i-c*

Anthony: Sorry, it’s spelled I-am-letting-you-live-in-my-flat*

Kate: My presence is a gift.

Anthony: Also-We’re not getting into this again. I have no familial relation to Newton.

Kate: He has your middle name!

Anthony: Dogs don’t have middle names!

Kate: Do you want to see his birth certificate?

Anthony: Do you mean the certificate you made yourself and framed on your wall? Unfortunately, I’ve seen it more than once. That’s enough for a lifetime.

Kate: [sent an image]

Anthony: Your middle finger is a bit wonky.

Kate: [sent an image]

Anthony: I hope your boss saw you take that.

Anthony chuckled under his breath as he looked up from his phone, spotting Gregory talking to a few of his friends across the playground before waving at Anthony, jogging towards them. He glanced back at the text chain, internally cursing at himself. Why did he always have to flirt with her? He couldn’t help it.

“Hey mate!” Anthony grinned as Gregory reached them, wearing his football kit. They were heading straight to Gregory’s football training in a nearby park, where Anthony and Hyacinth would go for a walk and wait for training to finish. Anthony ruffled his hair, taking his bag and sports bag. “Good day?”

“Hey!” Gregory said, grunting at Hyacinth before beaming up at Anthony. Anthony knew it wouldn’t last forever but he’d pay every cent he had to keep Greg looking at him like he was his hero. “Are you coming to watch me play football?”

“Of course I am,” Anthony said, nudging at Hyacinth to start walking towards the car. “I can’t wait. Are you excited? Come on, we better get going.”

“Anthony! Hello!” A blonde woman Anthony had definitely seen before was standing around a group of women, with their kids running around them and screaming. She practically pushed another woman out of the way to get to him. “How are you?”

He couldn’t for the life of him remember who she was. “Hello,” He said lamely, glancing at Gregory and Hyacinth who looked bored and were absolutely no help. “I’m great, thank you. How are you? Nice to see you again. I’m sorry, we’re just in a bit of a rush.”

It was slightly rude of him but once one of these parents cornered you, you’d be stuck there for hours. He wasn’t going to get stuck talking about a bake sale for the next half an hour.

“I’m lovely thank you-Oh! Yes, of course. You’re such a good brother. Have a good day!” The blonde woman called after Anthony as he hastily nudged Hyacinth and Gregory along. “If you need any help or are interested in the bake sale next week, I can give you my number-”

“Get in,” Anthony practically hissed urgently, waving his hand in the direction of the women but quickly flicking open his boot and car.

“One of them is Sasha’s mum,” Hyacinth grumbled, glancing back at the herd of women whose eyes had followed them towards Anthony’s car. “They think you’re good looking.”

Anthony threw their bags in the boot and opened the back door, winking at Hyacinth as she climbed into the car. “Well, they’re not wrong.”

Anthony laughed as Hyacinth and Gregory both made disgusted faces.

Gregory frowned at his passenger side. “I’m too old for a car seat.”

Anthony rolled his eyes. “The law would argue otherwise. In.”

Gregory took one look at his brother’s face and didn’t argue, grumbling as he moved into the car seat. Anthony checked their seatbelts and once everything was set, he climbed in himself and drove off to the park.

“When are you and Kate getting married?”

“What?” Anthony’s eyes snapped towards the rearview mirror, widening as he looked at Hyacinth.

Hyacinth didn’t seem phased whatsoever by her question. “When are you and Kate getting married?”

“We’re not,” Anthony said with a steady voice, glancing towards Greg who was too consumed with his Nintendo to care about the conversation. Is that what they both taught? “Why would you ask that?”

Hyacinth shrugged. “Daph and Simon are getting married.”

“That’s because they’re engaged.”

“Oh,” Hyacinth said slowly, her eyebrows furrowing slightly as she processed the conversation. “Why aren’t you and Kate engaged?”

“Kate and I are friends,” Anthony explained, feeling the dampness of his palms against the steering wheel. “We’re not like Daphne and Simon.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” Anthony said, a slight edge of irritation in his voice as he focused back on the road. He didn’t need to be mean, Hyacinth didn’t understand what she was talking about. “Why are you asking so many questions?”

“Well, people in love get married right?”

“Yes.”

“Daphne and Simon love each other?”

“They do.”

“Did Mum and Dad love each other?”

Anthony felt himself soften. “Very much.”

“Don’t you love Kate?”

“I do,” Anthony said hesitantly because he did in the exact way Hyacinth was asking but he didn’t really feel like getting into that. “People can love each other and not get married. It’s different for Kate and I-”

“No it’s not,” Hyacinth interrupted, a finality to the tone of her voice. It was the tone she used before she had a complete fit or meltdown. “I better be a flower girl.”

Anthony knew he was fighting a losing battle, and the irony of that statement wasn’t lost on him in relation to his current predicament. “At our non-existent wedding? Of course you can.”

Hyacinth stuck his tongue out at her and it reminded him so much of Kate, he nearly laughed out of relief and pain.

There it was again.

Kate.

Kate was constantly on his mind.

This was the problem. It was hit fault. This wasn’t the first time a family member, well, not just his family-anyone-had suggested there was something going on between him and Kate. They weren’t just friends. Kate was his best friend, she was everything but she had always been something a little bit more.

He had found her eight years ago and he didn’t know what to do.

Now, it felt like it was too late.

What the hell was he going to do?

Anthony couldn’t get Kate’s hurt look out of his head as he charged out of the house. It even momentarily distracted him from the blind fury he was feeling while he drove to the police station.

Benedict and Simon were right behind him, Benedict climbing into the front and Simon into the back. Anthony put the car in gear, speeding out of the driveway. The police station Colin was detained in wasn’t far and Anthony had already sorted out everything.

“Why did you do that?” Benedict asked, breaking the silent and tense atmosphere in the car as Anthony danced along the speeding limit, his foot pressing onto the accelerator to get to Colin.

He was relieved his brother was okay because Anthony was going to kill him himself.

“What?”

“Why didn’t you let Kate come? Over Simon?” Benedict asked, staring flatly at Anthony. “No offence Simon.”

Simon shook his head, pursing his lips. “None taken. I’m happy-well, not happy-happy to help.”

“I didn’t let Kate do anything.” Anthony said, in complete disbelief Benedict was bringing this up. There was a reason he didn’t let Kate come, he was trying to distance her from all of his shit. She didn’t need to be involved in this.

“Oh right,” Benedict said, sarcasm dripping in his tone which pissed off Anthony even further. “That makes sense. As if Kate isn’t involved in everything to do with you and our family. Kate is a part of our family. Why haven’t you done something about it?”

“She doesn’t need to be involved in this.” What the hell was Benedict doing? Why did it feel like everyone was against him? Anthony was trying, he was bloody trying and everything still went to complete shit.

Benedict didn’t buy a word of it. “Are you ever going to tell her?”

“Don’t start this shit tonight Ben,” Anthony said, his tense voice a warning, not a request. “Our brother is in jail.”

“I’m just saying-”

“I didn’t ask,” Anthony interrupted swiftly, his grip on the wheel tightening significantly. He could practically feel the vein in his forehead bulging. “Drop it.”

Anthony could see Benedict glance back at Simon, making some sort of gesture but Simon just shrugged, shaking his head.

Smart move, Hastings.

“Let’s go,” Anthony said once they arrived at the station, getting out of the car and walking into the empty police station. He paid Colin’s bail, filling out a form as he waited for an officer to bring Colin out.

Colin eventually appeared, looking worse for wear. He didn’t look in any way hurt, which made Anthony relax slightly. The blue shirt he was wearing was rumpled and the mop of brown hair on the top of his head was sticking up in various directions, but he was okay.

“Anthony-”

“Not a fucking word,” Anthony snapped, his voice deadly low as he looked at Colin who shut his mouth quickly. “Follow Ben to the car. Now.”

Benedict lightly squeezed Colin on the shoulder as Colin walked towards him, opening and closing his mouth before deciding to do what Anthony said.

Anthony had to take a few deep breaths before he walked out towards the car. He needed to keep his cool. Whatever happened, Colin was his brother and it didn’t need to result in a huge argument. As long as Colin took responsibility for his actions, it would be relatively okay.

Colin was twenty-two years old and still acting like a complete child. He traveled whenever he wasn’t at university and didn’t show any responsibility when it came to their family and his own life. Anthony was trying to not get too involved, getting Colin to even go to university had taken ten years off his life but sometimes Colin really tested his patience.

Anthony’s cool temperament lasted about twenty seconds once he got into the car.

“It wasn’t my fault.”

Anthony snorted while Benedict sighed deeply. “It never is, is it Colin?” “I was drunk,” Colin said, slumping in his seat like Gregory did when he was annoyed about something. “Marina dumped me. I met up with my mates and got drunk. It was a mistake. How was I supposed to know you’re not meant to piss on statues?”

Anthony hesitated for a moment, glancing back at his brother’s face. Colin was in pain. He had really liked Marina, the whirlwind he had met while skiing in France over Christmas. Anthony had never seen his brother fall so hard. “I’m sorry about Marina, Colin. I am. That’s not an excuse to act like a complete and utter idiot and break the law.”

“It was an accident!” Colin snapped back, his voice rising in line with Anthony's. “What do you want me to do, Ant?”

“I just bailed you out of jail,” Anthony snapped, the anger he had been holding in finally coming out. He was racing home within the speed limit, the confinement of the car making him claustrophobic. “I made sure that that stayed off your permanent record so you didn’t get thrown out of university or asked about in job interviews. Instead of acting like a spoiled little brat you could be a little more grateful and shut up.”

“I didn’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re right,” Anthony snapped, really focusing on not losing his head. “Yet I did it anyway.”

“I’m so fucking sorry I’m not perfect like you, Anthony,” Colin said, his voice full of venom as Anthony pulled up into the driveway. “That I’m not perfect like Ben, Daph, El, Franny or fuck it, Dad! I’m so sorry I don’t live up to your perfect expectations.”

“Oh shut up Colin,” Anthony snapped, his voice just as angry as Colin's. “You fucked up. I’m not interested in listening to your sob story to make yourself into a victim. Take some responsibility for once in your life.”

Anthony felt the guilt flood his body as he spoke to his brother. He knew he would be ashamed of himself later, he already was as the words sunk in. He was just so angry. Colin never took responsibility for anything and this was just another time he had gone too far and expected no consequences and Anthony to pick up the pieces.

“Fine,” Colin said, shaking his head as he flung the door open. “Here’s some responsibility for you. I’m dropping out of university.”

Then he slammed Anthony’s car door shut and all hell broke loose.

Anthony didn’t have anything left to say.

His fight with Colin, every insult and dagger he had thrown at him, circled around in his head and rang in his ears. He couldn’t find the words to speak as Kate drove them home. He wanted to say something, to put Kate at ease as she anxiously glanced at him the entire way home.

He just didn’t have anything left in him.

Colin’s words were on repeat in his head like a broken record.

“I don’t need to try to be a carbon copy of Dad to figure out my life. I’m not you, Anthony. Desperately trying to be someone he’ll never be.”

Colin was right.

Anthony sat down on the couch in his flat, his limbs heavy and deflated as the reality of his brother’s words hit him like a tonne of bricks.

He then did something that he hadn’t done since the day his father died, in his mother’s bedroom, away from his family.

He cried.

The sobs hit him like a wave and moved throughout his body, flooding out of him and everything he had been holding in for years. He cried for his dad, who he missed so much it killed him a little bit inside every single day. He cried for the man he desperately was trying to be but knew he never would. He cried for his family who had a gaping hole in it he could never fill. He cried for his family, who he tried so hard for but somehow always managed to fuck it up.

Anthony cried for everything that he had lost, everything that he was selfish enough to be angry about. Everyone he didn’t go, everything he didn’t do and everyone he didn’t meet because he had to step up.

He cried for Kate, the person who made him feel like he was worth something and that he was doing something right sometimes. He could never allow himself to let her know how he felt. He couldn’t do that to her.

Kate held him against her chest, her head resting on top of his as she moved her hand up and down his back, murmuring soothing words as he cried until nothing else could come out.

Anthony was surprised when Colin showed up at his flat the next morning. Kate had made him a cup of tea before putting Newton on his lead, throwing one final glare at Colin and a reassuring smile at Anthony before leaving their flat.

His flat.

It was incredibly awkward, as both the Bridgerton men sat on Anthony’s couch in complete silence. Colin was tapping his foot against the ground, looking up at Anthony and back at the floor as his mouth opened and closed as he decided what to say.

“I’ve always liked Kate.”

That took Anthony by surprise. “Who wouldn’t?”

“For a second there,” Colin said, a half chuckle coming out of his mouth that was muffled by his pained expression. “I didn’t think she’d let me in.”

“As someone who has been on the wrong side of Kate many times,” Anthony said, smiling slightly as leaned back into the couch. “I wouldn’t recommend it.”

“She’s terrifying.”

“Absolutely petrifying,” Anthony said, nodding in agreement. “Don’t tell her I said that.”

“Do you hate me?”

Anthony’s head snapped up, the strange lightness of their conversation fading completely. “Of course I don’t hate you.”

“I’d hate me.”

Despite everything that had happened, Anthony was reminded of who was sitting right in front of him. Colin was so like their dad it hurt Anthony sometimes. He was fun, happy, irrational, spontaneous and he cared so passionately about the people in his life. He was also young and still trying to figure things out. He made mistakes. He had his heartbroken. He was just trying.

They were all just trying.

“I love you, Colin,” Anthony said firmly, because it was true and there wasn’t anything his brother could say to ever make Anthony think or feel otherwise. “There’s nothing that could ever happen to make me not love you. Okay? I only want what is best for you. I know how unreasonable I can be sometimes. Maybe I was wrong for thinking what was best for me is what is best for you. I just want you to be okay if something ever happened to me.”

Colin visibly gulped. “Nothing is going to happen to you, Ant. I’ll never be more sorry for what I said about Dad. I didn’t mean it. I am a horrible person for saying that to you. I’ll never forgive myself for it. I do mean this, though. You’re not Dad, Ant. You’re you. You don’t need to be Dad. You don’t need to be anyone else but you. Everyone needs you to be you. We all have gotten this far because you’re you, Ant. Not Dad. Not anyone. You.”

Anthony was absolutely speechless as he listened to Colin. Colin and him had clashed over the years but they were so alike in so many ways.

“I know I haven’t always made things easy on you. I think about him a lot. If he would be proud of me. I don’t think he would.”

“Of course he would,” Anthony said firmly, finally finding his voice. “There’s so much to be proud of. You’re a fantastic person, Colin. You annoy the shit out of me sometimes but you’re an incredible person.”

“I want you to be proud of me.” Colin’s voice was shaky as he spoke, the emotion of the situation finally coming to the surface.

“Colin,” Anthony said seriously, looking at his brother. “There’s no world where I’m not proud of you. You shouldn’t worry about what I think-”

“Anthony,” Colin said seriously, looking his brother in the eye for the first time that morning. “All I think about is what you think. You’re the voice inside of my head. Even if you sometimes annoy the shit out of me, I need you there. I know we all wouldn’t be okay if it wasn’t for you. I’m so sorry I haven’t shown you how much I appreciate that. I’m so sorry. I’ll never be more sorry for that.”

The large lump in Anthony’s throat was becoming extremely painful. “You don’t need to apologize-”

“I do and I am,” Colin said, standing up and moving towards Anthony. “I love you. You’re the type of person all of us can only hope we can be. You’re my big brother. I’m going to hug you now. It’s going to be awkward but I feel like it’s necessary.”

They wrapped their arms around each other, slapping each other’s backs and holding onto each other tightly.

They eventually pulled back, both turning their heads slightly to compose themselves and wipe their eyes with the back of their sleeves.

“That’s enough emotion for a lifetime,” Colin murmured, moving back to his original seat and letting out a sigh. “Beer?”

“Beer.”

Of all the places Anthony Bridgerton imagined himself to be at this point in his life, it wasn’t at his sisters and best friend’s engagement party.

Simon had surprised Anthony by showing up to his flat after him and Colin had sorted things out. Simon had kept a respectful distance since Anthony had found out about Daphne and him, not pushing Anthony into anything and forcing their friendship back to the place it was.

Instead, something else had happened. They were in a new place. They were starting off a clean slate. They were back to hanging out, playing golf, grabbing dinner and drinks. Anthony was his best man. He didn’t want to hold grudges anymore. He wanted his best friend back.

The past week had surprisingly been great. He had decided to put everything on hold with Kate and he had spent an unbelievable amount of time with her this week, going against every part of his initial plan. The only bad part of his week was moving Kate into her new flat. The flat felt so empty and lifeless without her.

He even missed Newton, which is something he’d keep to himself until his deathbed.

Simon joined him at the bar, smacking his back. “Good speech, mate.”

“Mm,” Anthony said, giving him a sarcastic grin as he finished off his whiskey. “I’m happy you enjoyed it.”

“It really came from the heart.”

“Let’s not get soppy,” Anthony said, nodding in thanks to the bartender as he topped up his whiskey glass. “I have just decided I can tolerate you again.”

“Please, I was your favourite person until Miss Kate Sheffield came along,” Simon teased, grinning at Anthony’s side-eye. “Not that I blame you. She’s really something.”

“Back to that speech though,” Simon said, his back to the bar as he surveyed the buzzing dance floor. “I don’t think it was us you were entirely talking about.”

Kate.

Anthony’s heart stopped in his chest. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Of course you don’t,” Simon said, downing the rest of the contents of his glass with a gleeful smirk. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to go dance with my fiance.”

Bastard.

His family really needed to learn to mind their own bloody business.

“Anthony.”

Anthony’s vision was fuzzy. He could hear a light buzzing in his ear. Kate’s words were still playing in his ears.

“Forget me. I don’t want to speak to you ever again.”

He couldn’t let this happen. He wouldn’t let this happen. He had tried so hard to protect them and it only ended with him fucking everything up so royally.

He felt like he wasn’t in control of his body, his eyes were stinging and his limbs were moving out of his own accord. He was bustling through the crowd, trying to find Kate who had disappeared into it.

“Anthony!”

Anthony barely heard his own name until someone grabbed his arm. Francesca.

“Did you know Michael was here?”

Anthony was still moving across the room, Francesca still beside him. “What?”

“Can you believe it?” Francesca said, her bottom lip sticking out as she shook her head in disbelief. More emotions were running across Francesca’s face than Anthony had ever seen in his life. “Ben invited him. John didn’t even know! Apparently he’s Ben's new protégé.”

“Fran, can you hold on a second?” Anthony said, shaking his head and running his hands through his hair, pulling at it. “I’m sorry. I-I need to find Kate. I have to find Kate.”

“Anthony,” Francesca said, her face flooding with concern as she steadied Anthony’s balance with her two hands on his arms. “What is going on? What happened?”

“Anthony.” Benedict had arrived, with Sophie beside him, an anxious look across his face.

“Piss off Ben,” Francesca snapped, her anger at her brother not fading in the slightest as she turned back to Anthony. “Anthony? What happened?”

“He’s asked to intern with me this summer! What was I meant to say Fran? I didn’t realize there was something going on between you-“

“There is nothing going on between us! I’m with John!” Francesca hissed, her anger momentarily shocking the two Bridgertons and Sophie. Francesca had always been calm, cool and collected. That wasn’t what was happening tonight. “I don’t need any relationship advice from someone who snuck around for over a year. Get off your pedestal.”

“It seems like Benedict can’t keep his nose out of anything.” Anthony spat out his brother’s name and didn’t care for Ben’s slight flinch. He needed someone else to blame.

He needed to find Kate.

“Someone had to do something!” Sophie snapped, her eyes completely on Anthony. “We’ve all watched this go on for years and it’s exhausting. Where’s Kate, Anthony?”

“What happened with Kate?” Francesca asked again, her eyes solely on Anthony.

“I was going to find her-“ Anthony said helplessly, his chest tightening which was making it hard to breathe. He had messed it up phenomenally. She was never going to forgive him. “It’s bad. We had a fight. A bad one.”

The meaning of his words seemed to translate as Sophie’s eyes widened, her mouth dropping open slightly as she hastily turned to look around the room.

“I think you’ve done enough.” Sophie snapped, Anthony, Francesca and Benedict’s eyes were wide as they watched Sophie storm away in search of Kate.

“Ant-“

“It’s fine, Ben. I’m sorry I ruined your night. I have to go,” Anthony said, “This is my mess. I’ll fix it.”

“You don’t have to fix it alone.”

“I have to fix it with Kate.” Anthony said, charging through the rest of the crowd and searching everywhere for Kate. Benedict, Colin and Francesca were on his tail, trying to convince him to come inside and sit down and talk to them. He couldn’t. He tried her phone a million times that night but she didn’t pick up. He had to fix this.

Eventually, it was confirmed by Sophie that Kate had left the gallery. She had refused to let Sophie into her flat and that was as much as Anthony was told.

Kate was gone.

Anthony woke up with an excruciating headache and aching limbs. He grumbled as he sat up, feeling a hard exterior under him. He was sleeping in his old childhood bed.

The last time he had slept in this bed was the day before he had left university. The day before he met Kate and his life changed forever. He hated saying it, but it was true. His life had completely changed the minute he met and argued with Kate Sheffield and now-

Now he could have lost her forever.

“You’re up.”

Anthony jumped slightly as he saw Benedict and Colin standing at the foot of his bed, “Were you two watching me sleep? That’s creepy.”

“We were making sure you didn’t choke on your own vomit,” Benedict said carefully, a stern expression on his face but he cowered slightly as Anthony looked at him. Benedict had certainly meddled last night. “You drank a lot after Kate left.” “I’d be impressed with how much you drank if it wasn’t because of such tragic circumstances,” Colin joked, failing to lighten the mood with a joke. “I made you some coffee.”

“Thanks.” Anthony said sourly, nodding at Colin but not appreciating the reminder of what a terrible person Anthony was. Kate had gone and he couldn’t cope, so he drank until he passed out.

Why did he open his stupid mouth and tell her about the kiss? Why didn’t he tell her he loved her back? Why did he try to explain to her why they would never work? It was the everything he had been telling himself again and again and when he had said the words out last night, they were meaningless and stupid. The only thing they had achieved was destroying them both.

What was wrong with him?

He couldn’t get the look of anguish on her face out of his head.

He had done the one thing he had sworn he would never do.

He had hurt her.

“I’m sorry about the gallery, Ben.” Anthony said, shaking his head in shame.

“I’m not,” Benedict said, shrugging as he leaned against the wall. “We sold all of my pieces. I knew what I was doing when I put that piece up there. I’m sorry, Anthony. I really am. I never wanted it to cause all this.”

“You didn’t cause any of this,” Anthony said, shaking his head and letting out a deep sigh. “I did.”

“No, he definitely caused this,” Colin said, completely ignoring Benedict’s glare. “That was a dick move. Ant and Kate were always going to come to blows and have it out but you just threw the toaster into the bathtub with that stunt.”

“Anthony got involved with my love life!” Benedict exclaimed, turning around to glare at his younger brother. “I wanted to help-”

“That’s because Ant is relatively okay at sorting out everyone else’s love life and is absolutely shocking at sorting out his own,” Colin said, shooting Anthony a cheeky grin who just glared back. “Tell us what happened.”

“I was furious about the picture.” Anthony said slowly, not wanting to relive the events of last night ever again. He would have to, everytime he told this story and when he saw Kate again. If he saw her again. She had never responded to any of his calls or messages last night and he hadn’t tried again this morning.

He didn’t want to hurt her further by harassing her.

Anthony needed to see her and speak to her.

“I was acting really unfairly. We started arguing. I said some things. Kate said some things. I said something really stupid,” Anthony said, letting out a deep breath before he continued. “Kate told me she was in love with me. I didn’t say it back. I told her I remembered that kiss I had pretended to forget on my birthday last year. She told me she never wanted to speak to me again.”

“That,” Colin was the first one to speak, “That is a lot worse than I imagined.”

“Helpful Colin,” Benedict said dryly, sitting down on the bed beside Anthony and patting his shoulder. “You messed up. Yes. Kate is hurt. She’ll forgive you. You’re Kate and Anthony. You can fix this.”

“I don’t know, Ben. I’ve never seen that look on her face before. She won’t speak to me,” Anthony said, falling back onto the bed and feeling utterly hopeless. “She’s never going to forgive me. I don’t know what to say.”

Benedict bit his lip, nodding his head. “Ant, you’ve never been able to talk to us the way you’ve been able to talk to Kate.”

“The one person you can talk to won’t talk to you.” Colin said slowly, as if he was putting something together in his head.

Anthony and Benedict both turned towards Colin and raised an eyebrow.

Colin’s face lit up, as if he had just won the lottery. He grinned widely at his two brothers, who looked at him suspiciously. “I have an idea.”

Colin’s brilliant idea was therapy.

Apparently, Colin had a heart to heart with Penelope Fetherington the morning after their argument. Penelope and Eloise were studying together for the day at their house and Eloise had left Penelope in the kitchen with Colin whilst she went off for a shower.

Eloise had not been talking to Colin after the argument, which led to his and Penelope’s strange but heartfelt conversation.

Penelope recommended Colin go to therapy.

That’s how Anthony ended up taking Colin’s therapy appointment at 10am that Saturday morning.

“Why are you here today, Anthony?”

Anthony hadn’t been to therapy since university. It wasn’t for this reason. He had been stressed, having bad panic attacks and feeling overwhelmed by everything. He was back again, for similar but different reasons.

“My brothers thought it would be good if I spoke to someone.” Anthony answered honestly, not feeling entirely comfortable to open up to a complete stranger whose office he had walked into two minutes ago.

“Do you think you need to be here?” His therapist asked, scribbling something down in her notebook.

“I suppose so. No. Yes, I do. I do think so,” Anthony said, scrambling over his words before he sat up straighter in his seat. “I do. It’s what Kate would tell me to do.”

“Who is Kate?”

“Kate is my best friend,” Anthony said instinctively, the meaning of the words hitting him a few seconds later. “Well.”

“Well?”

“It’s complicated.”

His therapist looked straight at him, giving him a friendly but stern smile. “I’m trained in complicated.”

“We’re not currently speaking,” Anthony said slowly, deciding to just let it all out. This is what therapy was for, right? He could be honest for once in my life. “It’s all my fault.”

“How long has it been?” His therapist asked, glancing at the round clock on her wall.

“About 12 hours?”

“Okay.”

“That’s really strange for us,” Anthony hastily explained, quickly feeling embarrassed about the situation and if he was appearing overdramatic. “We talk all the time. We lived together up until last week.

His therapist continued to write down a few sentences, the scraping of the pen against her paper making Anthony’s skin itch. “Tell me what happened.”

“It was a bad argument,” Anthony began, the memories of last night filling him with a heavy dread. “My brother had put a picture of us, multiple pictures of us, on display in a gallery. I panicked and I reacted badly. We both said hurtful things. The worst we’ve ever had. She told me she was in love with me. I told her I remembered our kiss I pretended to forget over a year ago. It ended with her telling me she never wanted to see me again.”

“Do you love her back?”

The question caught Anthony completely off guard. This was the most honest he had been in a very long time and his therapist was brushing over a lot of details, focusing on particular ones. “No, I do.”

“But you didn’t tell her that?”

“No.”

“Hmm,” His therapist said, nodding her head as she continued to scribble down a few sentences. “That is complicated. Could you tell me about your parents?”

Anthony’s breath caught in his throat. He couldn’t face that today. When he had gone to therapy previously, they had sometimes spoken about his parents, mainly his father. Anthony didn’t have the strength. “I don’t want to talk about my father. I need to know what to say to Kate.”

“That’s okay,” She said, nodding her head slowly. “You have every right to not answer this question and I will drop it. Why do you not want to talk about your father?”

“He died when I was eighteen.” Anthony explained, figuring it would come out sooner or later.

“That must have been difficult.”

“It was.” Anthony’s words were caught between his teeth.

“Do you have any siblings?”

“I have seven,” Anthony answered, cracking his knuckles in his lap. “I’m the eldest.”

“I can imagine that’s a lot of responsibility at the age of eighteen,” She said slowly, as if she was trying to figure something out. “Especially when suffering from such a loss.”

“It is,” Anthony said, avoiding her eyes completely as he looked around the room. He didn’t want to talk about his family. That’s not why he came. “It’s my family. I’d do anything for them.”

“Why do you think you don’t deserve love?”

Anthony gaped at her. “I don’t think that.”

“If you were willing to step up and take responsibility for your family and ensure their happiness,” She said, leaning forward in her chair. “Why can’t you do the same for yourself?”

“I don’t want to lose her,” Anthony said, his voice coming out a lot shakier and lower than it had in a long time. “She’s everything to me. Everything. I screw things up. I’ve never been good with relationships. I desperately tried to not screw things up and I did it anyway. I really tried to stop feeling like this. I even went to America to stop feeling like this and try to find someone new. It just always comes back to this and now-now it’s too late.”

“This is terribly cliche, but it’s the truth. It’s never too late and you will never know until you try. Why are you so sure you and Kate will fail? I say you and Kate as there are two of you in this. It seems like you put a lot of pressure on yourself. When it comes to your family and your relationships.” Her words were hitting Anthony forcefully, completely overwhelming him. “You should try giving yourself a chance.”

“I don’t think I can.”

“You are standing in your own way. Why is that?”

He was getting really sick of all these questions.

“Kate deserves better.”

His therapist raised her eyebrow slightly, “Isn’t that for Kate to decide?”

Anthony had no response to that.

“Anthony, we have absolutely no control over what could happen in the future. Our fears will still exist in the past, present and future. What we can try to control is now. Good and bad things happen everyday. Nothing also happens everyday. Nothing sounds quite exhausting, don’t you think?”

“Sometimes it is easier to do nothing. Sometimes, we have to take a chance on the good or bad things happening,” She told him, smiling softly at him. “Sometimes, we just need to take that chance.”

Something just clicked.

He had to take that chance.

“I have to go,” Anthony jumped up, running a hand through his hair and slightly waving the other one around. “I have to talk to Kate. If she’ll talk to me, I’ll take that chance. Right? Right. Yes. Wow. Okay. Thank you, doctor. Thank you-”

“I’ll have my assistant book you in for an appointment next week,” His therapist responded, a slight smile on her face as she stood up to open the door for him. “Good luck, Anthony.”

Colin and Benedict stood up as Anthony walked into the waiting room, curious expressions on their faces.

“I have to tell Kate I’m in love with her.”

Anthony glanced down at his phone, which began buzzing his hand. Edwina’s name flashed on his screen.

Anthony answered the call, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. Maybe it was Kate. Maybe she had lost her phone and that’s why she hadn’t been in contact with him last night. “Edwina?”

“Anthony,” Edwina’s shaky voice spoke through the phone, sending cold shivers down Anthony’s spine. “It’s Kate.”

Anthony had burst through the hospital doors, running up stairs and through doors until he found the room Kate was in after multiple directions from nurses, Colin and Benedict hot on his heels.

Edwina had reassured him that Kate was fine. Her brain scans and other injuries had come back completely clear, the worst thing that had happened was her leg had been broken.

He had to see her. He had to see her alive and breathing. He had to make sure she was okay.

“Kate.”

Anthony had never felt so nauseous and anxious in his entire life.

“Are you okay?”

Kate was there, sitting up in her hospital bed with her casted leg elevated in the air. She didn’t appear to have any other injuries, her dark hair was in a bun on the top of her head and she did have some scrapes and bruises along her arms, and a tiny scratch on her cheek.

“That's none of your business.”

That was the response he expected and it hurt just as he expected. He did deserve it.

“Kate was skating in Hyde Park when a cyclist ran into her, and she landed on her leg," Edwina explained carefully, anxiously glancing between Anthony and Kate. Benedict and Colin were behind Anthony, smiling awkwardly at everyone in the room and shooting a relieved expression at Kate. She smiled back at them, at least she wasn't icing them out.

Kate just refused to look at Anthony. “Get out.”

“We’re going to get some coffee in the canteen.” said Mary, beginning to drag an anxious looking Edwina out of the hospital room.

“Don’t you dare,” Kate snapped, raising her voice at her mother and sister. She pointed at the chairs they just vacated. “Anthony is the only one who will be leaving this hospital room.”

What did he expect? She had every right to be furious with him. It wasn't going to be easy and he would do whatever it took to fix this. To fix them. “I’ll wait in the waiting room until you want to talk.”

“I don’t want to talk.”

He nodded, making his way towards the doorway he had only come through. He knew Kate and pushing her wasn’t going to achieve anything. He had fucked up and he had to fix it in the way she wanted him to. “I’ll just be waiting then.”

And waited, he did.

He waited for two weeks until Kate was released from the hospital.

He tried everything. He had taken the time off work to be there during visiting hours, waiting for her to finally let him speak to her. He had drafted about fifty different speeches before she was released, thinking about everything he had spoken about with his therapist. He went to two more sessions during Kate’s stay and he felt something was really changing.

Except for Kate’s willingness to speak to him.

When he knocked on her door, she told him to get lost. When he brought her flowers, she threw them at him. When he brought her food, she wouldn’t touch it. She ignored his texts and calls.

She had every right to make him suffer and she was doing a superb job at it.

He spent his time on business calls or chatting with whoever was visiting Kate. Every Bridgerton but Anthony had been allowed in. He got to know her nurses and doctors, getting updates on Kate’s progress and asking them questions about her leg and the healing process.

Mary sat beside Anthony in the waiting room one afternoon, handing him a cup of coffee. “Thank you.”

“I started worrying less, you know.”

Anthony turns to look at Mary, frowning in confusion.

“Kate is a very good person. She takes care of people. She took care of Edwina and I more than she should have, especially after my husband died.” A sad expression appeared on her face. “My husband always said Kate tried to take care of him when her mother passed away. She was four years old.”

He smiled sadly, taking a small sip of his coffee. “That sounds like Kate.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” Mary nodded her head, wrapping her hands around her coffee cup. “I always wanted that for her. Someone who would take care of her and she would let them. I wasn’t so sure it would ever happen until she brought you home.”

Anthony blinked at Mary, completely taken aback. He had known Mary for eight years now and they had spent a good bit of time together, but he couldn’t remember ever speaking to her alone. Especially like this.

“I knew she finally had someone to take care of her. You’ve been so good to her.”

“I don’t know if she’ll forgive me this time Mary,” Anthony said, his voice croaky as he hung his head low. “I don’t know if I deserve to be forgiven.”

“Kate didn’t talk to her father and I for two weeks because we didn’t let her go to an Eminem concert when she was twelve years old,” Mary said, chuckling softly at the fond memory. “She will come around.”

“We all make mistakes, Anthony. I don’t know what happened between you two,” Mary said softly, reaching over to squeeze his hands. “I do know you’ll be able to fix yours.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Kate,” Edwina said, exhaustion flooding her voice as she pushed Kate’s wheelchair to a stop in front of the exit of the hospital. “Anthony’s car is the only car big enough to bring you home! You’re meant to lie across the back seat.”

Kate was glaring at Anthony with such an intensity, he was genuinely terrified. She was absolutely furious at the prospect of Anthony driving her home. “I’d rather walk.”

“I suppose you should have thought about that before you went skating on those death traps,” Anthony said, deciding that if she wouldn’t talk to him, he might be able to at least get an insult if he winded her up. Then, she would technically have spoken to him. “Hop on in.”

Kate’s mouth dropped open as she watched Anthony open up his back door, which had been filled with blankets and pillows to help Kate get comfortable. She knew she had no choice. The two nurses helped Kate into the backseat, buckling her in as Edwina got into Anthony’s car. Mary was following them home.

Kate, furious about recent events, was sulking in the back seat.

Edwina and Sophie hadn’t been overly kind to Anthony the first week after Kate’s accident. He didn’t blame them, he deserved every single bit of slack he got for what he’d done. They had eased up on him the last week, probably out of pure pity as he desperately tried to fix things with Kate who so far wanted nothing to do with him.

They finished their awkward car ride once Anthony parked in Kate’s flat’s underground car park. Now the fun really began. He would make himself useful in any way he could to help Kate, so Edwina and Mary had asked him to drive her home once he had offered.

“Kate,” Edwina said slowly, clearly nervous about what she was about to say as she opened her sister’s door. “Mum and I aren’t strong enough to get you out of the car.”

“Whose side are you on?” Kate snapped, realizing exactly what was going on. “There’s not a chance in hell-”

“I am on your leg’s side!” Edwina snapped, everyone’s eyes widening as Edwina’s temper flared. It was a rare sight. “I am losing the will to live here, Kate. Just let Anthony carry you upstairs and you can do whatever you want. Throw anything you want at him for all I care. Just get upstairs.”

Anthony leaned into the back seat, carefully moving Kate and her leg towards the edge of the seat. They were so close, his arms wrapped around her. If he looked at her, he could count the freckles sprawled across her nose and cheek and how many eyelashes she had. He had done it a million times before.

Except he couldn’t.

Kate refused to look at him.

He got her out of the car until she could support herself on her crutches, making her way towards the lifts. Anthony, Edwina and Mary brought all of her bags upstairs to her flat. Anthony had stocked her fridge and cupboards with all her favourite things and had gotten it professionally cleaned yesterday. He also had about five bouquets of tulips in each room.

“Simon dropped in some food from his restaurant,” Edwina said, smiling softly as she began to unpack the bag. “Thank god. I’m starving. Anthony?”

“I’ll go.” Anthony said, shaking his head as he headed towards the door after dropping the last bag on the floor. The hope he had of fixing things with Kate was really starting to diminish. She really despised him.

She wouldn’t even look at him.

Kate waved a crutch in his direction. It was the first time she had spoken to only him directly in over two weeks. “Stop getting me tulips!”

Anthony turned around to look at her, shaking his head simply. “No.”

“We are going to go out for a walk,” Mary suggested loudly, tugging at Edwina who gaped at her mother in disbelief and then glanced back down at the food. The two Sheffields practically ran out of Kate’s flat, bag of food in their hand, and surprisingly weren’t stopped by Kate.

This was his chance.

“How are you?”

Kate’s hard glare hadn’t faded. “Why do you care?”

He visibly softened. “Of course I care.”

“I don’t think you do, actually,” Kate snapped, aggressively fluffing the pillows behind her back where she sat on her grey couch. “I thought you cared until I realized what you had done. I thought you cared until I stood there telling you I loved you and all you did was tell me that you had lied to me and how we would never work. I never expected you to love me back, what did I expect was some-”

“Are you on drugs?”

“Excuse me?” Kate’s voice was almost a shriek.

Anthony had to really stop himself from rolling his eyes. “I can’t say this if you’re in any way inebriated.”

“No,” Kate muttered, crossing her arms across her chest, “I still despise you, so I’m of sound mind.”

“I should have kissed you. That night. When we were at Aubrey Hall. Seven years ago. I should have kissed you in the lake. I should have kissed you at the Law Ball in college. I should have kissed you when we were in Spain. When we were in my dorm. Your dorm. In the morning. In the afternoon. In the evening. There were so many times where I should have kissed you, Kate.”

“You did kiss me,” Kate spat out, tears flooding her eyes that made Anthony’s chest clench. “You kissed me and you pretended that you didn’t remember.”

“I��m an idiot. I’m a fool. There’s no rational explanation for why I did it. I was so scared of losing you, Kate. But I lost you anyway. I’ll never be more sorry for that, Kate.” Anthony took a few tentative steps towards her, crouching down so he was at her eye level. “I’m so sorry for hurting you. Please, just listen to me. I’ll leave you alone afterwards if that’s what you want.”

“I was on my way to yours when Edwina rang me,” Anthony said, trying to remember everything he had wanted to say and had written down so many times. “I was on my way to tell you I was in love with you. I was an asshole, the night of the gallery. A complete asshole. I panicked. I saw everything on that bloody picture that I have wanted and dreamed of for years, and I panicked. I was so scared of losing what we had that I was too scared to take the chance on having something more.”

Kate stared at him with her wide brown eyes, the ones he had missed so bloody much. He had missed everything about her and now he was here and he was trying. He was desperately trying and he had no idea if it would be enough. “What are you trying to say, Anthony?”

“I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you since I was nineteen years old. I’ve denied it and denied it, because I’m screwed up, and I know you deserve better than me, but it's always been you Kate. It will always be you. I was terrified of screwing things up and losing you because I can’t live without you Kate. I don’t ever want to. You’re my best friend. You’re my person.”

“When I heard you were hurt and there was a chance that I could lose you-I can’t fathom life without you, Kate.” Anthony’s voice broke off as he spoke, his voice choking on air. “I can’t. I don’t want to. All I want is you, Kate. I’ll do anything to prove that to you. I’m all in. If you’ll have me.”

“Why do you get to decide?”

Anthony blinked at her through his watery eyes, hastily wiping them. He had finally said everything he wanted to say and the biggest weight had been taken off his chest. The anxiety of waiting on Kate’s response still clawed at him. “What?”

“Why do you get to decide that I deserve better than you?” Kate asked, narrowing her eyes as she looked at him.

“I don’t know,” He answered honestly, shaking his head as he leaned against the couch. “It wasn’t that I decided. It was just so obvious to me. You deserve everything, Kate. Everything. That isn’t me. All I can do is try-”

“No.”

His heart stopped in his chest, a rigid stance completely taken over. Was this it? Was Kate ending things forever? Has he lost for her good?

“You should have asked me.”

Anthony couldn’t help the sigh of relief that came out of him. “I know.”

“I’ve always been smarter than you.”

He smiled softly, nodding his head. “That’s debatable.”

“Do you always have to have an answer for everything?” She asked, completely exasperated, but there wasn’t any annoyance detected in her tone. It was almost teasing.

“I suppose,” He said slowly, his eyes never moving off hers. “Some things never changed.”

“No,” She said softly, her eyes moving around his face. “They really don’t.”

“I should have asked you too,” Kate added a few seconds later, visibly gulping as she pushed some of the loose strands of hair in front of her face behind her ears.

“I’m still so mad at you,” She murmured, blinking away a few tears that rolled down her red cheeks. “I’m so mad. I’m not going to suddenly stop being mad because you’re in love with me and I’m in love with you. We’re going to have to work at this. It isn’t going to be easy.”

“I deserve it.” He nodded in agreement, not being able to stop the small smile breaking out on his face as she said she loved him. “I know. I’ll do anything, Kate. Anything.”

She loved him.

Kate was in love with him.

“Hold my hand.” She murmured, extending her fingers towards him. Their fingers interlock smoothly, her soft, petite palm and his large, rougher hand against each other.

“If you had asked me,” Kate said, her voice coming out wobbly as she spoke. “I would have told you that you’re it for me. It’s always been you. From the moment I met you, it was always going to be you. I didn’t stand a chance. It’s not about deserving, Anthony. It’s about being there for someone no matter what. You’ve always been there for me. And I always want you to be.”

Their faces were extremely close now. He could smell her again, that soft scene of lilies and soap that he had missed so much. He could count the freckles on her cheek and her long, delicate eyelashes. His lips are “I’m sorry it took me so long.”

“Us,” Kate corrected him, her breathing small and shallow. “It only took us eight years.”

“This isn’t how I imagined it.”

“I’m so tired of imagining, aren’t you?”

He kisses her.

It’s better than he’s ever imagined it.

Why?

Because it’s real.

#the story of us #bridgerton #kate sheffield #anthony bridgerton #kate x anthony #ao3 #fanfiction #the end is finally here!#benedict bridgerton #sophie beckett #edwina sheffield #hyacinth bridgerton #gregory bridgerton #colin bridgerton

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anothertimdrakestan · 4 years

Note

Could you write a hc about watching a scary movie with the batboys(including terry and duke!)?

Watching Scary Movies W/ The Batboys HC

ahhh this is so cute! i'm such a scaredy cat too lmao so i made this extra soft and fluffy 🥰 thank you!

Damian Wayne:

- he'd be completely unaware anything was wrong until he turned to complain to you about the cringeworthy acting and saw you flinching into the sofa

- to try to comfort you in his own damian way he'd point out all the flaws in the movie with you, eventually you were both too busy complaining about the poor camera angles and idiocy of the murderer to be scared

- for one certain jump scare damian flinched, immidiently reaching for your hand, and you continued to clench his for the rest of the film

- as you both whispered about the murderer being a complete dumbass for not grabbing the biggest knife he was softly rubbing circles on the back of your hand because as much as he could distract you, he never wanted you to feel scared, ever.

- you never enjoyed scary movies until damian made them fun, and damian never enjoyed fun until he was having it with you

Duke Thomas:

- i strongly believe duke doesn't like them either and you can fight me on this

- you'd watch them together in broad daylight to get over your shared fear, taking turns hyping each other up while the other was buried in someone's lap

- "WHO ARE WE?" "BADASSES" "WHAT ARE WE SCARED OF?" "NOTHING" "NOTHINGGGG LETS GOOO"

five minutes later (sponge bob voice)

- "wait babe hold me i'm scared" (you can decide who said this ;)

- steph coming up behind you both and giving you the jumpscare of your lives just when duke was finally getting confident

- "AHHH- III EEEEYEEE WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOUUUU OH I WILL ALWAYS LOVEEE YOUUU Y/NNNN" "d you jumped off the couch" "i wanted to serenade y/n shut up"

- definitely giving up half way in and making empty promises to come back next time, the fam always teases duke for being a badass in every other way but crying at a single horror movie but youre quick to defend your favorite batboy to anyone who challenges him

Tim Drake:

- tim thinks horror movies are stupid, hes seen more horror than anyone needs but he's never one to miss family movie night when you're over

- surrounded by dick, who is always excited, bruce, who is probably half asleep, and damian, who is practically chained to the couch- family movie night is truly something else but tim loves it when he's with you

- whenever it's dick's turn to choose a movie (or jason's if he ever shows up) he's picking horror and tim secretly likes it because it's an excuse to cuddle you and make damian sick to his stomach

- usually you'll end up clutching on to his hoodie while he sweetly combs his fingers through your hair and whispers whatever's happening in the movie to you

- "okay babe now stupid blonde girl is going upsta- uh!" "oh my god tim what happened" "er- shh it's okay! it's okay! just a little scare, now she's uh- dead but it's fine! now the big y'all jock guy is next youve gotta watch it'll be funny!"

- damian might actively gag when tim peppers your face in kisses while you giggle through the movie but it makes movie night all the more memorable, plus tim loves seeing you surrounded by his family, nothing makes him happier than being close to those he loves

Jason Todd:

- jason adores watching horror movies with you, the gore never bothered him but he likes to have you sit in his lap wrapped in his arms and a blanket while he cooes in your ear during the movie

- "angel cmon it's not even scary! it's sooo predictable!" "babe you have to look at least a little bit! i'm right here y/n!"

- he sometimes tries to distract you by trailing kisses from your cheek to the edge of your shoulder while you squirm, eventually lolling your head to the side, eyes fluttering closed why he focuses on that perfect spot on your neck

- it's quite frequent that horror movies transition to the both of you having a little more fun and it's rare that you genuinely finish the movie, either falling asleep in jason's lap or being carried to your bedroom in fits of laughter, jason makes your life fun and passionate and movie nights are never any different with the love of your life

Terry McGinnis:

- horror movies with terry usually happen after you lose a bet, terry loves an excuse to cuddle you and enjoys a good scare

- he likes to pretend to be big and tough but at jump scares he'll jolt, reaching quickly to wrap his arms around you. it makes your heart melt because it means when he's scared the first thing he reaches for is you

- you'll catch him nervously biting his lip during stressful scenes and the teasing is on

- "T you scared?" "babe no, no i'm not, but look at your! you're clutching on to me like a freaking koala" "you like it scaredy cat" "maybe but at least i'm not a scaredy koala" "you're favorite koala" "of course you are lovebug"

- when the credits roll terry will latch around you and bring you in for cuddles while he lazily runs his hands up and down your back, talking about the movie and how he totally didn't get scared at all, all sarcasm of course

- "id protect you from a murderer" "ha bitch id be the murderer youd be my sidekick" "i'd make a pretty sexy sidekick" "sHuT uP and kiss me you dork"

Dick Grayson:

- dick has probably seen most horror movies, i feel like he thought they were cool when he was robin so now he just wants to show you all his favorites

- telling you to close your eyes during a scary part or explaining what will happen so you're prepared

- he would actually get you kind of into horror movies, teaching you all the lore of horror shows and the two of you end up making it a weekly thing to sit down and hold each other through a scary show or movie

- each of his family members will occasionally join you, but dick gets jealous when you explain that damian cuddles hit different during scary movies or that cass braiding your hair is peak comfort, this always leads to him scooping you up no matter where you are and smothering you on the couch while you jokingly try to push the big oaf off of you

- the best days are when you and dick eventually get surrounded by the whole family, all piled into your laps like a bat-dog-pile. resting your head on dicks shoulder while you give tim back scratches and dick holds a sleepy damian close to his side, surrounded by your favorite people, closest to your favorite boy, absolutely smothered in love :)

hey i hope you enjoyed! who wants to watch a scary movie with me??? hehehe tbh i'd be crying but it's okay 😂😂😂

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uponrightful · 3 years

Note

You brought this on yourself 🤣 I love how you give Crosshairs point of view so often, but I gotta admit, I was wondering what Dutch was thinking here…it’s all about the spicy longing for me… so

Carefully he wrapped his arms around her, and covered her hands with his own; Caging in her upper body to stabilize the little shake of the gun by taking some of the weight off her arms.

“Confident?” He asked with a hint of mockery to hide his weakening resolve.

She settled back against him tighter, and with a resolved breath she answered;

“With you…? Definitely.”

Such a good fucking girl. He sprawled over her hips with his own, and pulled himself tight against her. Steadying his breathing just long enough to make sure she could follow it easily enough.

“Then take your shot.” He ground out heavily against the shell of her ear.

Crosshair watched the shot leave his rifle, and could already tell she’d made a direct hit. It was actually perfect, and he couldn’t help but loose his concentration from the sensation of her body jolting back against him. She’d handled it flawlessly, but he didn’t miss the little whimper that escaped her when the gun rocked back into her shoulder once again. He wanted her to take one more shot, begging for another just one more excuse to feel her underneath him. To Cross’ utter shock, Duchess began laughing happily at the mere sight of finally hitting her target.

Commentary Track for Coriolis Effect

Copy 500 words -or more- of any of my fics and I'll give you my thoughts/rambles on what was going through my head -or the character's- when I wrote it!

* send one in here *

*cracks my knuckles* "Ask and you shall recieve my loveley" I say as I chuckle deviously. In no way does my fianceé send a worried look in my direction as I start typing furiously.

***

To begin, Dutch chose to lay prone for a reason. It's actually not the best position for herself -fundementally- and she chooses to ignore that because it's how she pictures Crosshair doing it. That mental image of his shooting like this is ingrained in her mind, and Dutch has too much interest in him to try and position herself any differently. His rilfe is longer than standard, weighs at least six pounds more, his trigger is softer, and the scope sits a little too high to see from it clearly at this angle. All of that comes within seconds of holding it, but Duchess ignores all of that against her better judgement. It's a taunt, as much as it is an impulse to put herself in his preverbial shoes. She can literally feel Crosshair watching her, and althought that's a very distracting thought, Dutch is set on impressing him.

Note: This choice -of positioning- was made not just for logistics, but also because it fits her personality. Duchess isn't shy, and she is certainly not inexpereinced. I thought about this being a "standing" scene but Dutch wouldn't let me. 😅 Although she is extremely independent, her character's biggest weakness is a strong desire to impress -or be accepted. This stems not only from her time with Phantom Squad, but also from the lack of times in her life that someone has told her "good job". When she chooses to lay down, she's literally opting out of the security she would have of making an accurate shot, just to take a chance on impressing Crosshair. That's a risk/guess... But Duchess isn't afraid to try anyways.

The whole time she's actually a lot more concerned with making her shots than anything else. Constantly checking her form and doing anything she's learned in the past to prove that her size isn't a limiting factor like Crosshair says it is. Her shoulder hurts, and although it would otherwise be enough to make her stop -she has her own career effectiveness to worry about- Dutch isn't leaving until dominates this gun. It's not until she hears Crosshair's sigh that it clicks in her mind that he's still watching her struggle, but not taken the oppertunity to stop her from continuing.

Note: Weapons mirror their users. And when I created Duchess, I made the serious decision that a lot of her ability to characterize others would come from their armor and weapons. That's just who she is, and what she knows best. So, in this scene... Dutch is literally equating Crosshair's rilfe, as to a part of him. If it's harsh, that means he is as well... If it's a sensitive model, that says something about Cross. If she can't control it easily, that's an indicator of the man who wields it. Really pay attetion to the way I compare Crosshair to his 'Puncher throughout the fic. I do it with extreme purpose, and although it's not always easy to spot, there are many times I allude to their symbiotic nature.

The moment Crosshair is close enough to touch, all of that subtle teasing about his weapon from earlier is gone. Ultimatley, Duchess can have a smart mouth, and know how exactly how to use it. But Cross presents a whole new kind of intimidation that she doesn't know how to handle. For Duchess, power only comes in two ways: Physical Prowess, or Rank -wheather that by government facilitated, or sibling rank due to the Phantoms. She's never experienced the way Crosshair acts twoards her. Duchess knows he respects her -because of he he listens to her seriously- but he also challenges her to do things she'd be otherwise criticized for with a hint of disbelief. (Like mouthing off, or betting that she couldn't shoot his rifle, despite that being against regulation.)

The moment he puts his leg between hers, Dutch is a ball of nervousness. Sex is nothing new to her, but that kind of confidence in particular, is completely foreign. Normally she's the one who initiates things like physical dominance in personal space. Dutch is so caught off guard, and her whole body freezes up, because she's realising that she likes Crosshair doing that. It's a release of power that she's constantly holding up, and that kind of vulnerability is hard to let go of after making such a habit of about being the strong one. After all, since Phantom Squad, she's had to depend on herself alone.

It's when he grabs ahold of her jaw and tells her to relax that she's really down bad. 🥵 She knows it should be nothing but a technical comment on her form, but he's commanding about it . Literally ordering her to let go, and release that tension. That feels fucking amazing to hear and feel, coming from a stoic guy like Crosshair. She knows his rifle is harsh, and occasionally he is as well; But that's becoming all the more desirable the more he directs her. Pushing her down against the floor, guiding her back against him... Doing simple things, but silently demanding she follow his orders. Duchess doesn't have to do anything -or think about anything- other than letting him take the lead, and she's daydreaming about if he's like that in other areas.

Note: Duchess takes a fully submissive role here. She's fully receptive to Crosshair's leadership, and it's because she enjoys being thought of as weak -or little- on occasion. Her background is full of war accolades, and confidential missions she knows to be successful. All of it culminating in this unspoken war register of a badass woman who fights like a clone trooper. But that's not realistic to uphold all of the time. Everyone likes to be taken care of sometimes, and Duchess just happens to really like someone taking control every once and a while. And with Crosshair, she feels safe enough to let that happen, and also enjoy the sexual aspect she's been thinking about all this time as well.

Duchess admits to feeling confident with him here for two reasons. Number one, she's still trying to be a little teasing. It's natural to have a little fight in her all the time, and with Crosshair, she thinks that flusters him. (She's right by the way...) But secondly, it's her desire to show trust. Crosshair might be fit right up against her, whispering sexual innuendos in her ear, but Dutch ultimately feels safe like this . The rifle isn't going to hurt as bad, she's going to hit the target, and Crosshair's weight is emotionally grounding. They might be attempting to do some target practice, but Duchess is literally getting the equivalent of a weighted blanket and reassurance that her true self isn't unworthy of attention. Plus, it's coming from a man who otherwise appears completely disregarding of anything with a noticable flaw... That's something Dutch will never forget. The best sniper in the GAR is helping her... And he's happy to do so, by getting as up-close and personal as a man could get.

His hands cover her own, rough and calloused, but they're unbelievably gentle. Cross is almost hesitant, and Duchess can tell he's actively trying to ease her tension. The way he speaks is soft, and quiet... Making her feel like jelly. Being asked to follow his breathing pattern, his arms tight around her, legs somewhat twisted into hers, his thigh tight against her core... It's all seductive, and essentially surrounding her body with him. And Dutch can't help but eat it up. She wants more. No one has ever done something so simple, but effective in drawing out her desire to think of herself as something worth coddling -in a sense.

Duchess might hit that target in the end... But the only reason she did was because Crosshair had relaxed her enough so he could aim . (She didn't make that shot. Crosshair did all the work, she just pulled the trigger.) It was the first time Duchess felt like she was being tended to fully, and that's that had her acting so lighthearted at the end.

***

I fucking love writing these. Please don't ever stop sending them in!😅🤍

#uponrightful #uponrightfulwrites #coriolis effect #crosshair the bad batch #crosshair #commentary track #saltywintersoldat

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shimmeringclouds · 3 years

Text

❀ | ⑥

╔═════ °• ♔ •° ═════╗ 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 ╚═════ °• ♔ •° ═════╝

Setting down his teacup with a sigh, Karamatsu's gaze didn't wander from the perfect view of the gardens just behind the large windows.

It had been a few days since he had gone on that magical horse ride through the forest with you, and ever since you had arrived back at your palace, it seemed as if you had been avoiding him. Which he found to be most unfortunate, as he had found the conversation the both of you had then was heartfelt and honest, and he even thought that it had brought you two ever so slightly closer together.

Alas, he was wrong. The words you had exchanged with him had only weakened your bond and any chances at becoming closer, it seems. Now, whenever you spotted him around the palace halls, you would swiftly turn the other way and scurry off before he could get the chance to speak. He would be left in the dust of your footsteps, a hand outstretched towards your silhouette and a frown on his lips.

Karamatsu wasn't sure what to do.

His words were true; he wanted to get to know you, bit by bit. He wanted you to give him a chance, despite his reputation as a stupid and unwise prince. Despite all his flaws and imperfections, he wanted you to take his hand and walk alongside him, if not as lovers then at the very least as friends.

Clearly, however, you didn't have the same thoughts in mind.

He sighed again, much heavier this time, his sorrow almost visible in the air around him. Karamatsu had no idea what to do. He had never been in this situation before — he had never even lasted this long inside someone else's kingdom! He usually would have been kicked out, literally, as soon as he opened his mouth to speak. Although you didn't give him the kindest of welcomes, you had at least allowed him to stay. He thought that to be very kind of you.

Resting his palm against his cheek, he cast his sullen gaze to the sky. No matter what he did, his mind would always fall back to you. He would like to think it was love, but he wasn't that stupid of a prince to truly believe that.

"Prince Karamatsu?" He startled at the call of his name, sitting up straight and turning to look over his shoulder to find your mother, Queen Koume, walking steadily towards him with a kind smile. He stood up from his seat, bowing low as his signature smirk worked its way into his face.

"Queen Koume! It is truly a blessing to be in your presence."

"Likewise," she chuckled, tapping his shoulder and gesturing for him to rise, "But I think formalities can be dropped for a short while, don't you agree?"

"If that is what you wish," he flicked his sparkling cape around him, the material elegantly twirling around him before settling along his back.

"I hope you have been enjoying your stay in our kingdom," she started, moving to take a seat opposite from Karamatsu's.

"Of course! I expected nothing less from the Aoki Kingdom — full of beauty as far as the eye can see!"

Queen Koume chuckled again, silently liking the flowery words that always seemed to flow seamlessly out of the young prince's mouth. He had quite a talent for it.

"And my daughter has been treating you well?"

"Indeed! She truly is a kind and soft soul, to treat me as gently as the flowers that bloom in her wake—!"

"Then why is she not with you?"

Karamatsu stilled, eyes wide and smile stiff. He glanced over to the Queen, and upon seeing her raised brow and the suspicious squint in her eyes, he deflated, sitting himself back down and tracing a finger around the rim of his teacup.

"How long has she been avoiding you?"

"...Almost three days, now..."

She sighed, her eyes falling to her folded hands in her lap. A few moments of silence go by, and she interrupts it with her soft voice.

"I would like to apologise for my daughter. She has always found it difficult to bond with those from outside our kingdom."

"No, no, I understand her completely." Karamatsu shook his head, a small smile on his lips that didn't quite meet his eyes. "I am a prince from the kingdom of Akatsuka. We are known for our unwillingness to become kings and our poor knowledge on royal duties. I'm not surprised that she wouldn't want anything to do with me... It is something that I have become used to."

"But it is not something you deserve."

He paused, slowly raising his eyes to meet hers.

"Appearances are a struggle for royals to upkeep, because it is the only thing that others are willing to look at. When I look at you, Karamatsu, I don't look at the failure of a prince. I look at the heart you wear on your sleeve."

Karamatsu's cheeks tinged a light pink, her knowing smile making it hard to look away.

"When others look at my daughter, they see a cold and silent girl, with her head full of pride and her eyes full of malice. But when you look at her, tell me, what do you see?"

"...What do I see...?"

He saw a beautiful girl with a heart that was closed off to the world in fear of getting hurt. He saw a girl who spoke her mind without the fear of the opinions of others. He saw a girl with a strong and matured mind with a young, caring heart, a weakness that she didn't want to expose. Because if it ever was, her world would crumble around her.

Queen Koume stood up, walking around the small table to reach Karamatsu, placing a delicate hand on his shoulder. He looked up at her with wide eyes, akin to a child. Her fondness for him grew.

"Talk to her. She will try to run, but don't let her out of your reach."

With those words, she left him to his thoughts, disappearing around the corner. Karamatsu's mind was onto telling him one thing.

'I need to see her.'

He bolted from his seat, running down the hallways in an aimless attempt to find you. As he passed by the entrance to the gardens, he skidded to a halt, rushing over to one of the gardeners who was busy pruning a bush of purple and blue flowers.

"Excuse me!" He called, standing over them. "If you would be so kind, I need some assistance with a gift." He gestured to the flowers around him, his thick brows furrowed into a pleading frown. The gardener stared up at him in shock before relaxing into a grin.

"Of course! I have the perfect gift."

He clipped a hefty bunch of the flowers in front of him, grabbing a ribbon from his pocket and tying it around the stems into a neat bow.

"Hydrangeas. For anything that is sincerely heartfelt." He winked, handing them over to the prince.

"Wonderful! Thank you!" Karamatsu turned on his heel to run off, only to then back around with a sheepish grin. "Do you know where I can find the Princess?"

"She usually hides herself away in the library. But you didn't hear that from me!"

"Thank you!" He called again over his shoulder as he dashed off, coloured petals drifting around him as the wind carried them away. A woman peeked around one of the hedges, grinning down at the gardener.

"Playing Cupid, are we?" She chuckled.

"That's all on him," he shrugged. The both of them watched a blue blur run off into the distance, mentally sending him the best of luck before returning to their tasks.

Karamatsu ran as fast as his legs could carry him, barely making it down the right corridors until he came to a stumbling halt in front of a large set of double doors, the wood engraved with ivory stems curling around bookshelves. This was the place.

He took a moment to catch his breath, brushing his hair back into place with his hand and gathering the courage before opening the doors with a firm push, pausing as they revealed a vast library filled to the brim with books and rolled parchment.

He glanced around as he walked in, scanning every empty table and chair until he came across a set of stairs spiralling upwards, swallowing thickly as he ascended, one slow step at a time.

His heart was thundering in his chest as he reached the top, almost fit to burst as he finally saw your figure hunched over a pile of books that were opened up and spread along the floor, your studious gaze stuck the words on the pages of text until the sound of his footsteps made you look up in surprise.

Your eyes met his, wide and unsuspecting. Karamatsu's heart sped up, skipping a beat as he saw your skin becoming flushed in shock, his own cheeks matching the reddening tint that was spreading across your face.

Neither of you could speak, finding yourselves speechless. You always had something to say, but now, sitting there and peering up at the man you had been attempting to push away for days now, you found that your throat had run dry, and your lips slightly parted, searching for words that couldn't escape you.

You watched as he took careful steps forward, kneeling down in front of you on one knee to reach your eye level, his brown eyes never once leaving yours.

In his arms, he carried clusters of hydrangeas, swirling colours of blue and purple, and your heart jumped. It startled you; it was if it had leapt up your throat.

He held them out to you, a determined glint in his eyes.

"Princess [Y/N]."

His words were firm but gentle, enough to get you to stay, and enough to tell you that there was nothing stopping you from leaving. Even so, you found yourself unable to move.

"These flowers are for you. I hope these will suffice as a gift, in exchange for a chance to speak with you."

#osomatsu san #karamatsu matsuno #karamatsu x reader #prince!karamatsu #princess!reader #royalty au #romance #love #fluff #floriography #flower meanings #its about time i updated this one #sorry for the long wait!

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yetanotherhoeforpedro · 3 years

Text

Sinfully Armored

Chapter 6 - Anger Issues

Chapter 5

A/N: I’m sorry for totally mischaracterizing Thrawn, but I wanted him to be like this for the sake of the story…Please excuse my assumptions about Mandalorian culture...Also, a little CPR lesson to fulfill my educational mandate.

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

“Am I supposed to quiver from fear at that name?” you drawled sarcastically, “Because, obviously, I am not.”

Her smile only grew wider. “Trust me, one day you will.”

“Can’t wait.” You flashed her a saccharine smile.

“You wouldn’t be joking if you knew what I am capable of, Jedi,” she warned you, the feigned amusement gone.

“You sure are capable of boring me to death.” You let out a yawn in emphasis.

“Darling, why must you hurt me like that?” Her holographic figure touched her chest dramatically.

“Quit the theatrics and get to the point,” Mando intercepted.

“Straightforward. I like that in a man.” She winked at him and you would have liked to rip her throat out simply for that.

“Anyway, you might not recognize my name, but I’m sure you know Grand Admiral Thrawn,” she went on. A shocked expression crossed your face before you could suppress it.

“I thought so,” she said triumphantly. “Now, I don’t know why he went through all this trouble just to get…you,” she wrinkled her nose in disgust, “but he must have his reasons. I guess he’ll tell you soon enough.”

“He’s coming?” It was an effort to keep your voice from shaking.

“Soon. Since you’ll not get out of this cell, I suggest you make yourselves comfortable.” With that, her holographic form dissolved.

At least you could let yourself crumble a bit now that she was no longer there to witness it. You began pacing the tiny cell while clenching and unclenching your hands. You just had to think…Maker, why couldn’t you think? There had to be some way out of here, you couldn’t be trapped. You couldn’t be left at someone else’s mercy, you couldn’t stay here, you had to get out…

A broad hand clamped down on your shoulder and halted your relentless pacing.

“What’s going on?” Mando asked as he spun you to face him.

“We have to get out of here,” you replied softly, still lost in your anxious thought.

“I know that.” He sighed. “Who is Thrawn?”

There had to be something in your expression then, because he added in a softer voice: “What did the bastard do to you?”

You swallowed against the dryness in your throat. “He…um…he…killed my family,” you breathed out. Though the truth was a bit more complex, he essentially did. Just then did you realize that you had never voiced it before anyone but Luke…and him.

“I’m sorry,” Mando responded after a moment.

“It’s okay,” you answered, though it obviously wasn’t. You simply couldn’t come up with anything else to say.

“Why would he be after you?” he inquired carefully.

“I’m not sure…maybe to finish what he started?” But that wouldn’t make sense, he could have killed you already…Instead, he was on his way here. Unless…unless he wanted to do it himself? You shook the thought off. “I thought…I believed him to be dead until a few days ago.”

You pulled your arms around yourself out of habit. You were used to giving solstice to yourself, to being the only one present when you spiraled downwards. But you weren’t alone right now and Mando was strangely good at comforting you. He pulled you in for a soft embrace and the feel of his arms around you served as a lifeline that kept you together.

“That’s the third time today,” you murmured into his armored chest.

“What?”

“The third time you caught me…I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I’m usually not this…weak…” You took a deep breath and were glad he could not see your face right now. Your cheeks were ablaze from embarrassment. Yeah, you had issues, but usually, you got it together…But everything has been piling up for the last few days and threatened to overwhelm you in a mighty avalanche.

“You’re not weak,” he replied firmly and tangled one of his hands into your hair. “You have a warrior’s heart, so you are used to confronting everything with violence. But this…this is not something you can beat back, it’s something you have to allow in and…you don’t want to feel helpless, so you’ve been suppressing it.”

Perplexed, you looked up at him. “Thanks for the psycho-analysis, though it was totally uncalled for.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied, mirroring your sarcasm, “Now let’s get out of here.”

You nodded and the two of you began probing the wall for flaws. There didn’t seem to be a single spot your lightsaber could penetrate.

After a few minutes, you groaned in frustration. “She was right, this is pointless.”

“Calm down,” Mando said softly, “There’s more walls.” He pointed upwards and you silently cursed yourself for not even thinking of that. When had your common sense left you?

However, the ceiling was similarly secured. “Okay, now you can be frustrated,” Mando sighed.

“Not yet. There’s one more wall.” You grinned at him. “Do you suppose they would expect their prisoners to just…cut a hole into the floor?”

“Probably not, as prisoners usually don’t have any weapons on them and as it would be a certain death wish?” Mando supplied.

“Perhaps. But not for a Jedi and a Mandalorian.” You winked at him before slamming your lightsaber into the floor.

Nothing.

“Okay, so maybe they did expect this,” you conceded while releasing a wave of breath. “What do we do now?”

“To be honest, I don’t know,” your copilot responded in a grim voice, “The walls are impenetrable for your Jedi weapons, so what could possibly breach them? They seem to be made out of pure Beskar.”

“But…to make a whole cell out of Beskar…How could anyone, especially the remnants of the Empire, afford that?” you queried.

“Um…I think I heard that the Empire sacked almost the entirety of Beskar reserves after they…killed all those Jedi.” Mando swallowed.

“I can’t believe I’ve never heard of this,” you murmured, “Though I suppose it makes sense, what better way to protect yourself against the remnants of the Jedi than to possess the one thing lightsabers cannot cut through…” You paused for a second. “Mando, I know…I shouldn’t ask this and you probably shouldn’t tell me, but…why can’t it cut through Beskar? I know you forge all sort of things out of the material, so it has to have a melting point…and usually, lazers are as hot as it gets…”

Mando took his time to respond. “I guess you’re right…I never…never truly considered this,” he admitted.

“So maybe we should use a different source of heat?” you suggested and pointed to his weapon’s arsenal.

“It’s worth a try…and I guess that if I shielded you, I could protect us from the thick of the blow. If we put as much distance between us and the heatwave, we might survive it,” he wagered.

“I think it’s worth the risk,” you decided, “And I’ll…I’ll send a message to Artoo in case we don’t make it out. Luke will rescue Grogu if we…if we don’t make it.”

Mando nodded slowly. “Yes, I suppose there’s no other way. Get in that corner.” You did as he told you and covered in the corner while contacting Artoo. The cell was tiny, but this had to work. It just had to.

You studied Mando extensively as he placed the detonator on the opposite wall. If you were to die in a few seconds, at least he would be the last thing you saw. You couldn’t even judge yourself for harboring these feelings, there was no point to it anymore. For some reason, you felt oddly light for the first time in your life.

“Mando,” you began as he crouched down in front of you, overcome by the odd urge to tell him…you weren’t sure what exactly.

“It’s gonna be alright,” he interrupted you and put his arms around you. When you heard him push a few buttons on his glove, you instinctively closed your eyes. “I know,” you responded before the bomb went off.

It all happened too fast to realize it, but you recalled the feel of getting pressed back into the wall by something hard, pressing the air out of your lungs, as a loud bang pierced the air.

When you opened your eyes again, dark smoke filled the air and obscured your sight. The resonating ring of the explosion limited your hearing. You still had no grip on the Force; therefore, you were left almost completely senseless.

“Mando!” you yelled into the darkness while reaching for him blindly with your hands. Why wasn’t he next to you? Where was he? Your mind turned blank besides that mantra while you scrambled around on all fours, searching for any sign of him.

Finally, you felt something hard and cold under your hands. “Mando?” you gasped softly, the smoke slowly clearing and the ringing in your ears subsiding. He was eerily still.

“Mando.” You grabbed at his shoulders and shook him violently. No reaction. “Mando!” you screamed, “Wake up!” Maker, why was he not moving? With trembling movements, you pushed your finger under his helmet, searching for his pulse.

There. Something. It was weak, but it was there. You sighed in relief, though it was short-lived as you noticed that it was getting fainter and fainter, until it completely ceased. Shit. You had to do something.

“Mando, I am so sorry…I promise…I promise I won’t look.” You took a deep breath before you began to undo his chest piece. “I’m sorry,” you repeated before closing your eyes and removing his helmet. You leaned in to check his breathing. Nothing.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t let you die,” you whispered before you moved your hands to the middle his chest. You pressed down forcefully 30 times, then you moved to his head. You hesitated, but only for a split second, and crushed your lips on his. You blew as much breath as you had left in you into his airways twice before going back to his chest and repeated the motion countless times. Thanks to the adrenaline, your pushes and breaths remained sturdy, even after you believed you had no force left in you.

“Breathe, Mando,” you sobbed before moving to his lips again. You felt something stirring under your hands then and halted. And sure enough, you felt a feeble breath caressing your cheek. “Thank the Maker,” you breathed out as you took in the noticeable heaving of his chest. His torso was perfectly toned with muscles, his chest hair…

Realizing your blunder, you quickly shut your eyelids again and turned around. It was only his chest…surely, there was some loophole in his codex for that…there had to be. Did you just save his life only to destroy his way of life? Shit, how could you have been this careless? It must have been the ecstasy of the moment. He never had to know you saw anything.

The soft exclamation of your first name made you still.

“Mando?” Your voice cracked.

“You…you saved my life,” he whispered.

You shrugged. “Don’t mention it. I…I didn’t look.”

“I know. I trust you,” Mando replied, still straining for clear breaths.

You swallowed loudly. “Um…we have to get out of here. Do you think…you can walk?”

“Yes. I think the impact simply rendered me unconscious. Nothing severe.” You heard him don his armor again as he got up. Mando limped past you to the gaping whole in the wall. “I didn’t think this would work,” he murmured in wonder as you followed him out.

“Shit, how do we get back to the ship?” you hissed as the two of you left the first hallway. “I don’t remember the turns we took.”

“Well, thank the Maker you have me then,” Mando joked, though there no real lightness in his tone. “My helmet can track footsteps, so we’ll just follow them back to the ship.” He grabbed your hand and began to lead the way.

In spite of his slight limp, you had to hurry to keep up with his speed as he all but dragged you through the labyrinth of corridors. To your surprise, not a single droid crossed your path. They probably believed you were securely confined and you couldn’t help feeling a little smug at outwitting them.

You took another right turn and saw the entryway to your ship draw closer. “Artoo,” you spoke into your comm, “open the ship. We’re almost there!” He didn’t respond. “Artoo?” you repeated. No reply.

You halted in your tracks, pulling Mando back as well through the connection of your hands. “Something’s not right.” Mando slowly turned to you.

“Not this again,” he groaned.

“Artoo is not responding. This has to be another trap,” you argued.

“Do we have another choice? Let’s just get back to the ship already.” He pulled at your hand and you complied reluctantly.

“Artoo?” you tried again while you ran towards the docking place. Again, no reaction.

You were almost there, only a couple more meters.

“Now, where do you think you’re going?” an unfamiliar voice called.

You spun around in horror to face the blue skinned man standing behind you. His eyes were glowing in an unnervingly intense shade of red.

“Thrawn,” you uttered, your voice deprived of any emotions.

“It’s an honor to finally meet you. I have such big plans for you.” He produced a feline grin. Gosh, this had to be serious if he was getting his own hands dirty. “Though I must say, I find it very rude of you to disregard my hospitality like that.”

“Come on,” Mando whispered to you and pulled you a step back. But this was not a confrontation you wanted to avoid.

“Get back to the ship,” you ordered him absentmindedly, “I’ll deal with this.”

“I’m not gonna leave you,” he murmured softly.

“How poignant,” Thrawn drawled, “A Jedi and a Mandalorian. It has an air of poetry to it, don’t you think?”

“Shut up.” Your eyes narrowed on Thrawn. “This doesn’t concern him, it’s between you and me.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure about that.” Your enemy's red eyes narrowed as well. “Guards, get the Mandalorian. I’ll deal with the girl.”

“Let’s go,” Mando urged once more, “We can still make it.”

You shook your head. Nothing would stand between you and your revenge now. This was the moment you had been waiting for you whole life. Jedi or not, you would relish in seeing the life drain from his alien eyes.

“Will you truly let your past take your future from you?” The disbelief and anger in his voice almost snapped you out of your madness. Almost.

He grunted in exasperation, but made no move to step away from you. Neither did he let go of your hand. “Then we’ll fight or way out together.” He dropped your hand the moment the guards arrived.

“Honestly, this is too sweet. The two of you.” Thrawn chuckled while pointing from him to you and back.

Not able to resist the temptation anymore, you lunged at him. Somehow, he sidestepped you easily, resulting in your blow landing in thin air. Somewhere behind you, you heard blastershots go off. You didn’t dare turn around to see how your friend was faring.

“Since when do Jedi,” the Grand Admiral spat out the word, “attack the defenseless?”

“I don’t mind making an exception for you,” you retorted, refusing to let his words get under your skin.

“Well, sorry to disappoint, but I’m not gonna fight you.” He smiled.

“Oh, that’s alright, I’m totally fine with just killing you then.” You smiled back at him.

“I’m afraid that won’t be an option,” he said and stepped aside to reveal the red-haired woman – Gad – emerging.

She unsheathed a purple lightsaber as she strode towards you in wide steps, her unbound red curls swirling around her like a living flame. “I’ve been looking forward to this moment for quite some time now.”

“Who are you?” you asked her, completely baffled.

“You know my name already,” she stated dryly.

“You know I’m not talking about your name.” As she drew closer, you reflectively positioned yourself into a fighting stance.

“I told you you would learn to fear me. Today is the day,” she replied instead, a devilish smile plastered on her face. Something tickled the back of your mind, but it was gone before you could grasp it. There was something about this woman…

With surprising precision, your enemy attacked. You deflected her blow and used her slight instability following the attack to return a blow, but she reacted quickly and spun to the side. In a movement too fast for your eyes to follow, she jabbed at your side. Without the Force, you were completely blind to the sudden strike and could only be glad that you redirected the blow in the last second to make it less fatal. Instead of directly stabbing you into your side, her blade only grazed at your back. You hissed in agony as it scratched your skin. Maker, it had been years since you last received a wound from another lightsaber, you had almost forgotten the intense burn of it.

“Do I need to remind you to not kill her?” Thrawn warned from the sidelines.

“Sure, sure.” Your opponent waved him off. “But you gotta let me have a little fun.”

You snarled at her and jabbed her right back, but she avoided your advance with a feline grace. She barked out a short laugh. “Oh, I haven’t had this much fun in years!” she shouted in ecstatic delight before charging at you again.

Following that, your fighting style went from offensive to defensive really quickly. While you felt the rage boiling inside you, you knew attacking her would be your doom. Mando was right, you should have fled when you had the chance. Mando��

Not able to stop yourself, you glanced over at him for a moment. He was practically surrounded by droids with electrostaffs and to your surprise, held a dark lightsaber in his hand himself.

Punishment for your distraction followed suit, as your rival kicked you hard, sending your lightsaber flying from your grasp. In panic, you tried to call it back to you, but there was still no tangible connection to the Force.

She pushed her glowing blade right up to your throat and you gulped at the heat radiating from it. “Game over, Jedi.” The word held even more venom coming from Gad’s mouth then it did when Thrawn had used it.

“You had your moment. Now get her to the cell,” Thrawn ordered, not commenting on the fight. You saw the frustration gleaming in Gad’s eyes, but she obliged. She turned her blade off before violently forcing your hands behind your back.

“This is not over,” she whispered into your ear and while you tried to fight it, you couldn’t suppress the terror her words awoke in you. You had never seen anyone fight like that, her speed and agility had appeared almost unnatural.

You twisted your head back to look past her at Mando, who was being forced to his feet by his opponents. Terrible guilt overcame you once again, had you not been this bent on getting your revenge…

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

“This sucks,” you complained. At this point, you were absolutely positive you’d go insane if you stared at the blank metallic wall in front of you in silence for another minute. Still, no reply came. “Mando, look,” you tried again with a sigh, “I’m – “

“Just shut up, okay?” a low voice cut you off. “I don’t wanna hear anything about it.” The audible resolve made you cease your pathetic attempts at apologizing. Frustration getting the better of you, you strained against your chains for what was probably the hundredth time in the last two hours.

“Would you stop that already? We’re not getting out of here,” your companion growled at you from the other side of the room. Well, at least he was finally addressing you, no matter how aggressively. Baby steps. So, you swallowed your rising anger back down and sagged against your confinements.

“I will get us out of here,” you responded quietly, though you weren’t entirely sure who you were making the promise to.

Mando simply scoffed in answer. It was extremely weird to hear him make these sounds without his mask modulating them, but the unpleasant reason for him being unmasked made you flinch slightly. Maker, how did you let this happen? Of course, the answer was clear, as, once again, your insufferable hotheadedness was to blame.

Another deep sigh left your body. “Shut. Up,” Mando snapped.

“I wasn’t saying anything,” you sneered back. So much for trying to resolve this conflict…

“Nar’Sheb, di’kut!“ Mando yelled back. Wow, insults in Mando’a. That was a new one.

“Okay, I have no idea what you just said, but could you please try to calm down? I’m sorry…about all of this,” you attempted in a soft voice.

“Doesn’t change a damn thing.”

The two of you were silent for a long time after that, the only noises in your cell the shallow breaths you took.

“I…I don’t know what overcame me…I just…saw him and…snapped,” you admitted into the quiet.

“I know,” Mando said, his voice a bit more serene, “but I would have thought you had a better grip on yourself. Considering you’re a Jedi.”

“This has nothing to do with me being a Jedi…this was about me and my family and he had them kil…” You took a deep breath.

“Do you think I don’t know what that’s like?” To your surprise, the gentleness had left his tone again. “The Empire killed my parents, but am I out there risking everything just to get ‘justice’? No. Because there is no such thing. No matter how many of them I might kill, it would never make it right. Killing them would not turn my parents alive again.”

You had no idea what to reply to that, so you opted for silence. It had been incredibly inconsiderate of you…You never even thought about his past, nor about that of all the other victims of the Empire. There were countless of them, but did they act as foolishly as you?

Killing individuals and seeking revenge above all was not harming the Empire. You had to focus on the big picture, strike at its heart…Maker, why was this only just now making sense to you? Had your judgement been so clouded by your emotions the entire time? And there you were, desperately suppressing your feelings for Mando while you let the truly harmful feelings – hate and fear – flourish inside of you?

“Fuck Mando, you’re right. I’m a fool. And a bad Jedi. But we have to think of a way to get out of here and fix this.”

“I know. They still have Grogu,” Mando replied solemnly.

“I’m sorry,” you said again.

“Stop apologizing,” he growled.

“Yeah, I’m sor – “ You cut yourself off.

“You know, besides failing Grogu, I am also a letdown for the Mandalore now,” he exhaled softly.

“What are you talking about?”

“That…sword I wielded earlier…it’s crucial to us. Whoever wins it in a fight is the rightful Leader of the Mandalore. When Grogu had been…taken by the Empire, I accidentally obtained it in a fight, even though I…didn’t really care about all that…power,” he explained.

“Do you now?”

The question seemed to catch him off guard. “What?”

“Do you want to be the Leader of the Mandalore now?” you asked curiously.

“I…I don’t know.” He sounded surprised at his own answer. “And I suppose now that I…lost it again, I’ll never know.”

Maker, as if you didn’t feel bad enough about yourself already. You swallowed the apology down before it could roll off your tongue.

“Not that I could even be a true Mandalorian anymore…” he added gravely.

“Mando, stop that. Just because…yeah, they saw your face, but it…it wasn’t your choice…” Which made this whole thing so much worse. It should have been his decision whether he wanted to reveal himself or not, but you took that away from him. Your rash, emotional decisions ruined his life. You were not used to that, as you were usually the only one facing the consequences… “Tell you what. We’ll kill them all and it’ll be like no one ever saw you.”

“Please, don’t joke about this,” he growled.

“I wasn’t…that was a promise, not a joke. I want them dead for what they did to you. I’ll avenge you, if it’s the last thing I do,” you vowed and meant it. You would make this right.

“You never learn, do you?” He sighed. “Revenge is what got us here. It’ll not be what gets us out of here.”

“I know,” you admitted quietly. You had come to that conclusion yourself mere minutes ago, but the habits of a lifetime were not easily changed. “But…you are still a full-fledged Mandalorian. The helmet is not obligatory, it was you own…way, right?” It was a poor attempt at comforting him.

“You’re one to talk about the irrelevance of personal ways…Do you seriously think I have not realized how badly you were trying to push me away? How you desperately tried to keep emotional distance? Why is it that you cling to that? I know not all Jedi behave that way, Luke…” He stopped.

“How do you know so much about Luke and his preferences?” you inquired and knew you hit the correct spot by his following silence.

“I…I shouldn’t have asked that,” you said after a while, regretting that your assumption was correct. “And you’re right, I have a…strange set of personal rules. But I am slowly realizing that…that I have no reason to shackle myself. I have clung to the old Jedi Codex which absolutely prohibited any romantic relations for the Jedi to honor those who…saved me. However, at the same time, I let hate and fear fester inside of me…And maybe I am not allowing myself to feel any…emotional attachment because…because of that hate and fear. To punish myself by not allowing those…positive feelings in and out of fear that…if I open myself and…love someone, I…I’ll lose them.” The words spilled out of you before you could register what you were saying. But somehow, voicing it made it even more clear. You had to change your foolish ways, as hard and painful as that may be. Mando said that you were used to being a warrior and that this was a different battle…Maybe he was right. Still, you believed your will – or rather stubbornness – to be strong enough to emerge vicious from this fight.

“Sometimes I wish…I could just take the helmet off and never put it on again,” Mando admitted quietly, “But I…who am I when I’m not the Mandalorian? The helmet and the armor give me the power to protect those I love and I am willing to make that sacrifice for that.”

You almost turned around to face him at that. Almost.

“But…you could have both. You could take the helmet off and remain a Mandalorian,” you argued softly.

“No. That’s simply not possible. There might be those who consider themselves Mandalorians and still take their helmet off, but…that’s not the Way. True Mandalorians barely expose themselves in front of other humans,” he replied firmly.

“Barely?” Curiosity coated your voice.

“Well…you can of course take it off in front of your…soulmate,” he disclosed quietly.

“Soulmate?”

“We take the whole…concept of souls really…seriously. ‘Manda’ actually means ‘soul’ and those who…stray from the Way, are ‘dar’manda’ – soulless.” You waited patiently for him to continue, totally intrigued by the description of his culture. His voice dropped a little: “When we…form a life union with our love, we share our soul with them. And…’Kir’manir’ means ‘to give one a soul’, but it’s also our term for ‘adopt’…Our families don’t necessarily share the same blood, and it’s also possible to…divorce your child or parent – Dar’buir…” You heard him take in a sharp breath before he continued. “When I…when my parents died, the Mandalorians took me in. They gave me a soul. I could never turn my back on that.”

“I…I don’t know what to say,” you confessed, “Thank you for sharing this with me…After my parents and my sister died, me and my little sister…it’s a long story, but we managed to flee from our home planet and…an old Jedi master who survived Order 66, took us in and taught us…however reluctantly…about the Jedi Order. My mother was one of them, so we…already knew the basics, but Master Yo…he helped us connect to the Force and explained the Jedi Codex to us. I always wanted to be a Jedi so I’d never be in a position where I couldn’t protect those I loved again…” You looked around. “Yet, here I am. It’s kind of ironic.”

“Where is your sister now?” Mando asked carefully.

“I…I don’t know. She just…left one day. She didn’t want to have anything to do with the Jedi. Or me.” You shrugged and ignored the sting you still felt after all those years.

“I’m…sorry,” Mando offered and you let out a breathless laughter. Apparently, he didn’t have an alternative expression either.

“It’s okay. Both of us dealt with the pain differently and I…I cannot condemn her for hating me. I let our sister die,” you whispered.

Your companion was silent, and you couldn’t blame him. What could one say in response to that?

“We will get out of here,” Mando vowed quietly after a while.

“I know. I just don’t know how yet.”

“We’ll find a way.” His voice held so much confidence that you couldn’t help believing him for a moment. “Close your eyes,” he added and though you were puzzled, you obeyed. “Turn around.” The chains that bound you rattled loudly as you did as he told you. A short silence followed, but before you could ask him what this was about, you felt his lips on yours.

The kiss was heartbreakingly tender and conveyed all the things the two of you had left unsaid. Mando gently cupped your cheek before breaking away. A breath of air touched your cheek as he leaned in to whisper into your ear: “And by the way, I won.”

In spite of your bleak situation, a smile formed on your lips. “No, you didn’t.”

Masterlist

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#the mandalorian/reader #din djarin/reader #slow burn #the mandalorian #mandalorian fanfic #star wars #too much direct speech #mando lowkey being a therapist #din djarin x reader #the mandolorian x reader

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