#i say gentle but what i really mean is like gentle-borderline-empty sounding | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

feralthoughtdump · 3 years

Text

Lover, Be Good To Me

CW: This is just smut, strap on, Loki sucking a strap, pegging, slight d/s dynamics, swearing, a little bit of praise kink, use of ‘mistress’, use of ‘puppy’, sub! Loki, maybe soft dom! reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Despite the soft fur rug, Loki’s knees ache against the floor. He feels his clasped palms become sweaty, but none of that bothers him because he knows what’s about to happen.

“Such a pretty sight to see.” She purrs. “So obedient too.”

He shifts on his knees while her fingers trace the line of his back, her light tough feeling like a tickle.

With his back straight and eager eyes, he can feel his cock harden at the praise.

His mouth water as she steps out of her skirt, revealing the large strap on.

Despite his royal standing and his power, she wields dominance over him. He worships her. Every curve and dip of her body. Every scar and mark on her skin. His power means nothing when she’s around.

As he bites his lip, he watches her wrap the leash around her wrist and tug.

“You know what to do.”

Loki crawls towards her, willing to obey every beck and call she gives him.

When he reaches her, he presses his cheek against her thigh, smiling against her warm skin.

“Such a sweet little puppy.” She runs her hands through his hair, scratching his scalp with her nails. “Don’t you agree?”

The gentleness of her voice stirs the arousal inside of him. He loves it. The way she praises him, the way she cares for him.

He looks up at her with doe eyes and nods.

“Yes, Mistress.” He says.

Submitting to her was always a treat, regardless of how rough she can be.

He whines when she tugs the leash a bit harder, the chain clinking against the metal tag on his collar.

Despite her gentleness, she finds this all kind of amusing. The prince of Asgard, a trickster god, on his knees, giving himself to her, a mere mortal. All of his arrogance, his air of superiority, washed away to reveal his submissive nature.

She traces his Cupid’s bow with her fingers and he pokes his tongue out to playfully lick them.

“You want my fingers darling?”

He nods his head, already heavy-lidded.

“Ask nicely.”

He tilts his head up to meet her eyes.

“Please, Mistress. Can you put your fingers in my mouth?”

Her smile is gentle when she slips a finger past his lips.

His eyes shut as he swirls his tongue around her digit.

A needy whine passes through his lips when she pulls her hand away but he quickly quiets down when he feels her pointer and middle finger press down on his tongue.

She hums.

“You like having something to suck on, sweetheart? Like having your mouth filled?”

He moans around her fingers, all needy and desperate.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

A pout crosses his face when he finds his mouth once again, empty.

“Oh, don’t cry, puppy.” She caresses his face with a cool hand. “I’ll give you something much better to suck on.”

He noses at the silicone cock and she chuckles.

“You know what to do. Open up.” She demands.

She shoves the strap past his lips and he obediently sucks on it, slicking it up with his saliva.

A groan passes her lips.

“Fuck, puppy, you really want it, don’t you?”

He closes his eyes and obediently sucks on it, an occasional gag echoing through the room.

She pushes her hips forward, forcing the strap to the back of his throat

He pulls away with a gasp, spit dripping down his swollen lips.

She slaps the strap against his cheek.

“Come on, put it back in.” She orders.

He wraps his lips around it once more, bobbing his head, eyes screwing shut. It was toeing the line of being a bit too big for his mouth, but he doesn’t object.

“Eyes up here, Mistress wants to see that pretty face.”

He blinks his watery eyes open, tears starting to stream down his face.

She lets go of the leash to gently wipe his tears away.

“Oh love,” She murmurs. “You’re such a pretty crier, you know that?”

Her hands still his head and she thrusts into his mouth. He chokes and grabs at her thighs but he quickly clasps them back in his lap at a loud “hands off.”

“Get it wet.” She barks. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

She thrusts her hips against his face at a brutal pace, the sounds of gagging and choking filling the room.

“You look so pretty choking on my cock.” She murmurs, “so, so pretty.”

He hums in bliss and sucks harder, ignoring his struggle to breathe.

She pulls at his hair, pulling him off of the strap.

“Now,” she gives the leash a downward tug. “Bend over. Mistress wants to fuck your pretty ass.”

As he settles on his hands and knees, she pulls the leash forward.

“No, like this.” He yelps when his face is pressed against the cool marble. “Much better.”

Loki bites his lip in anticipation when she traces her fingers down his back.

A cry leaves his lips when she slowly presses a wet finger in his hole.

“Hush.” She grabs his hip, nails digging into his skin. “You’re so tight, I have to open you up first.”

It hurts in the best way, the stretch increasing the ache within him.

This goes on for what feels like forever. He realizes that she’s using this as an opportunity to tease him. Get him as desperate as possible.

Loki hates to admit it, but it’s working. He could probably cum right this moment, but he’s aware of what will happen.

The bruises on his ass and thighs only recently just faded. He shivers at the memory.

A second finger pushes inside of him and he gasps.

He wails in both pain and pleasure when she scissors her fingers, opening him up.

“Oh, puppy,” she coos, “how are you supposed to take my cock if you can barely handle two of my fingers?”

“I can take it.” He whines. “I-“

His words are cut off with a sob when she lands a hard smack on his ass.

“Did I ask you to speak?” She retorts. “You were so good earlier, but if you want to misbehave, I could just shove a toy in your ass and refuse to touch you. Would you like that, darling?”

He viciously shakes his head, the thought of losing her touch was painful. He’d rather get ruthlessly spanked.

“No! I’m sorry! I’ll be good, I promise!”

Her gentle voice returns.

“‘Mmm. I know you can be a good boy. Just relax, I’ll take such good care of you.”

He tries not to clench around her fingers, but when she presses against his prostate, he can’t help it.

“Come on, relax. It’ll feel a lot better.”

He takes a deep breath and tries his best to release the tension in his body.

“Ooh, much better.” She hums. “Does that feel nice?”

He takes shallow breaths and nods.

“Yes.”

“Good. Very good.”

He feels her fingers slip out of him, only to be replaced with something much larger nudging at his hole.

Loki whimpers when she slowly pushes her strap in. Despite preparing him with her fingers, the stretch still hurt. He hisses and curls his fingers into fists.

“Oh puppy,” she coos, rubbing his hip. “Does that hurt?”

He nods his head

“Yes, mistress.”

“But does it feel good?”

He gasps when she pushes in deeper.

“So good.” He cries. “It feels so good.”

“So cute.” She sneers. “Falling apart on my cock.” Her hand tightens on the leash to give her more leverage. “I’m going to fuck you so hard, you won’t be able to sit on that golden throne of yours for days.”

Her hips thrust forward, pushing the rest of her strap into him.

Loki yelps and a tear slides down his cheek.

“Fuck.” He whines. “Feels- feels so good.”

“Mm. I bet I can make you feel better.”

One of her hands slides around his thigh and a finger traces up the length of his cock.

Loki throws his head back with a groan. The sensation of being stretched around her strap as well as her playfully teasing his cock overwhelms him.

She pulls at the leash with a rough hand and his back is flushed to her chest.

A hand grips his chin to turn his face to her and he’s met with her mouth pressing against his.

The angle at which she’s fucking him pushes the strap deeper, making him whine and sob into her mouth.

“Such a good boy.” She gasps. “Taking my cock so well.”

He’s borderline out of breath, the only sounds being gaspy breaths and whimpers.

“Are you a good boy?” She growls into his ear. When she doesn’t receive a response, she lands a loud slap on his ass. “Answer me!”

“Yes!” He sobs. “I’m a good boy! I’m your good boy.”

Her thrusts into him quicken and she squeezes her hand tighter around his cock.

“Then be a good boy and cum. Cum all over my hand.”

“I-” He pants, “I can cum?”

She wraps her arm around his hips and pulls him down on her cock, the tip pressing against his prostate.

“Aww, even when you’re falling apart, you’re still so good for me.” She licks a stripe up his neck. “Of course you can cum.”

He squirms as she pumps her hand, slick with spit and precum, up and down his cock. The pressure building inside of him was becoming far too much as he tumbles over the edge, sobbing as hot spurts of cum cover her hand and his stomach.

He rolls onto his back, careful not to get his cum on the floor. She holds herself up with her arms, panting and sweating from the physical exertion.

After a minute, she removes the harness and crawls over to him. He whines, overly sensitive when she licks off the cum from his stomach.

She gently cradles his face in her hands and shushes him.

“It’s okay, you’re okay.” She coos. “I’m right here.”

He relaxes into her touch and lets her rub her thumb across his tear-stained cheek.

“You were so good for me.” She murmurs. “You took me so well. Such a good boy.”

She frowns at the sight of his knees. Tenderly, she grazes her fingers over the bruises about to form.

“I think I’ll need to get you a cushion. Don’t want you hurting more than you have to.”

He tiredly whines and tugs her towards him.

“It’s okay. I like it.”

His grip on her tightens when she tries to get up.

“Love, I need to get you some water.” She nuzzles into his neck. “You had a long night.”

“I don’t want you to go.” He whimpers. “Please don’t go.”

She sighs and cradles his head against her chest.

“I won’t, I’ll stay with you.”

Her gentle hands card through his hair, slowing his rapidly beating heart. As his breath slows, she calmly unbuckles the collar around his neck and tosses it aside.

“I’ll just clean you up in the morning.” She murmurs, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head. “Get some rest, darling.”

She doesn’t sleep until he relaxes into her body, warm breath tickling her skin. Her fingers card through his sweaty hair, the locks feeling soft in her hands. Slowly, she lets her eyes close, sleep overtaking her tired body.

#loki #loki x reader #loki x female reader #loki x reader smut #sub!loki #sub!loki x reader #loki fanfic

515 notes · View notes

sunrisefairy · 3 years

Note

i’m sorry the way u did my last request was SO GOOD i just had to ask for another. could you do one with charlie weasley as a care of magical creatures prof and he finally gets with the professor he’s been flirting with? you write spicy fics so well i cant even

omg stop, ur making me blush. I had fun with this one!

NSFW 18+ below the cut

You told yourself no boys this year, no distractions, you vowed that this year you’d focus on your career; Dumbledore had given you a position at Hogwarts and you were ecstatic and determined to make him proud. You didn’t think it would be too hard, to have a year free of boys, the male professors at Hogwarts weren’t exactly eye candy. That was until you met the new care of magical creature’s professor, damn that Charlie Weasley.

He was handsome, no argument about it, his rugged good looks and charming, sweet personality had your panties dripping whenever he was in close proximity (even the mere thought of his strong arms and those long fingers had your core throbbing) not that you would ever tell him that.

Charlie Weasley seem to make it his mission to make you flustered, within the first 10 minutes of your initial introduction he told you how breath taking your eyes were and how gorgeous his name sounded when it fell from your lips. You obviously blushed at this and brushed the comments under the rug, assuming he was just being cheeky and kind and didn’t mean anything by it. However, Charlie made very clear he found you attractive and having to endure months of his shameless flirting was proving to be very difficult to ignore the sexual tension between the two of you.

You stared down at the pile of forgotten essays on your desk, your mind was elsewhere, and you couldn’t seem find the concentration to focus on grading them right now. Your brain was preoccupied but a certain gorgeous redheaded wizard. You imagined his rough fingers and how they would feel against your skin, unbuttoning your blouse slowly and teasing your nipples, would he be soft and gentle and caress your breasts or would he prefer to be rough and pinch and tug at your skin? You bit your lip at the thought, arousal already pooling in your panties. It had been too long since you last had sex and you were beginning to grow frustrated and desperate for it.

“Thinking about me again, love?” you’re snapped from your thoughts and immediately clench your thighs at the sight before you. Charlie was leaning against the door frame of your classroom, his arms cross in front of him causing his muscles to strain against his shirt.

You smirk, “how I manage to get anything done when you plague my thoughts 24/7 is beyond me.”

Charlie chuckles at this assuming you’re joking and enters the room, approaching you at your desk. You take this time to rack your eyes over his body, his shirt stretching deliciously over his torso, the top few buttons undone allowing you to scan his neck and collar bone. Merlin how you wish you could sink your teeth into his creamy skin-

You cough to shake yourself of this thought, no boys, no distractions.

“What can I do for you Professor?” you muse, straightening up the long-forgotten essays.

If Charlie noticed you hungrily scanning his body moments before, he doesn’t comment on it. “Oh nothing really, was walking around and had the strong urge to come visit my favourite professor.”

You blush before he continues, “Snape was busy though so thought you were the next best thing.” He’s smirking at you now and you scoff rolling your eyes.

“Ha-ha,” you say sarcastically, “well as you can see, I’m insanely busy grading these essays so can’t say it would be much fun if you stayed.” You pick up an essay from the pile and furrow your eyebrows hoping it looks like you’re deep in thought when really you’ve re-read the same sentence 3 times, still not comprehending what it says.

“I can think of ways we can have fun,” Charlie’s low voice sounds from right next to your ear. How did he get there so fast? “none of which involve boring essays.”

You gulp and turn your head. He’s leaning over your shoulder, invading your personal space, one of his powerful arms is braced against the dark wood of your desk. You can feel Charlie’s soft breath fanning your face and you shudder. You can’t think of anything to say right now, Charlie’s rich scent is swarming your senses and any thoughts that do manage to form inside our brain are not appropriate to say out loud.

Charlie’s eyes glance down at your lips, your tongue darting out to wet them instinctively, he’s unsure if you are aware of the effect you have on him. Such a simple innocent move of licking your lips has Charlie growing hard. He leans closer to you, wanting you to give him the go ahead to continue, as you part your lips Charlie’s certain you’re about to tell him to kiss you.

“The doors open,” you squeak, suddenly very aware of this compromising position and not really eager on an unsuspecting student waltzing past and seeing this scene. You know you should ask Charlie to leave, you have essays to grade and a ‘no boys, no distractions’ rule to follow but Charlie is so close you can almost taste him.

He grins smugly, pointing his wand at your classroom door which slams shut and you can hear the lock click, he whispers a silencing charm too which has your heart beating faster in your chest. Are you really about to do this? Charlie looks down at you waiting for your next move. It feels like eternity before you make your decision, is it the right one, you’re not sure but you’ve dreamt about Charlie’s lips for too long to turn them down now.

In a flash, you connect your lips together, it’s rushed and messy but neither of you seem to mind. You can feel Charlie’s hands all over your body, he’s unbuttoning your shirt and squeezing your hips and arse and pulling you closer and palming your tits and it’s heaven. His lips find their home against your neck and you gasp as his nips and sucks at your skin. Somehow, you’ve change positions and Charlie has you pressed hard against your desk and you can feel his cock hardening in his pants.

“Fuck, want you so bad darling,” he growls into your ear. You tug roughly at his hair forcing his eyes to meet yours. His are dark with desire and you have to force yourself not to come right then and there.

“Then have me,” you respond.

The both of you waste no time, very aware of the fact that you don’t have the luxury of taking your time right now. You’re pulling off each other’s clothes and clawing at skin and leaving scratches and love bites and groaning and whining. Charlie hoists you onto your desk, pushing aside any papers and quills in his way. He wishes he had more time because the desire to kiss along every inch of your beautiful body and explore every freckle or birthmark or scar you have, is so strong. But he just prays you’ll give him another opportunity to do just that, because right now he needs to be inside of you.

Charlie is standing in between your open legs as he takes his fingers and runs them along your slick folds. “Fuck baby, so wet for me huh?”

The sarcastic comment disappears from your mouth as Charlie pushes 2 of his long slender fingers inside your heat, you moan at the sensation. He quickly begins scissoring his fingers set on stretching you out as fast as he could. “F-fuck, Charlie. Feels so good.”

“Wait till you get my cock darling. I’ll have you screaming,” he teases.

You kiss his lips before responding cockily, “go on then.”

Charlie removes his fingers and you whine at the emptiness, “shh darling, I’ll feel you up soon enough. You want that? Want me to fill you up with my cock?”

You’re nodding desperately, “yes please Charlie, please need your cock so bad.”

He grins widely at you, “as you wish.” The both of you groan as he lines up his cock and pushes inside of you. None of your fantasies would have prepared you to how amazing it feels to have Charlie’s cock stretching you out like this. You wrap your legs around his waist as his starts to rock his hips into yours.

Charlie begins to snap his hips faster and faster finding a deliciously rough pace, you’re grateful for the silencing charm he casted because you wouldn’t be able to contain the moans otherwise.

“Holy fuck Charlie,” you whine against his lips letting yourself run your fingers all over his sweaty naked body before they find their home on his hard shoulders.

The groan that rolls out of Charlie’s mouth is borderline pornographic, “I know sweetheart, I know.”

Charlie can feel himself growing closer and closer to his climax and he’d be daft if he lets himself finish before you. Charlie reaches in between the both of you and his thumb connects with your clit, forcing a loud moan to erupt deep from your throat. Charlie starts rubbing tight circles against that bundle of nerves while nipping and sucking at the soft skin on your neck. He can feel you clenching tightly around him.

“S-so close,” you gasp as that familiar tightening sensation pools in your belly.

“Come for me darling, I got you,” Charlie responds, his free hand holding you firming against him as you come undone. His name dripping from your lips like a sweet poem. It only takes a few more thrusts until he’s groaning into your neck and releasing deep inside you, his load painting your walls. The two of you are panting heavily as you try and catch your breath. You chuckle quietly to yourself, enjoying the sensation of Charlie’s now soft cock still inside of you. So much for no boys no distractions.

~~~~~~~

imma start adding my taglist to blurbs too, so if you would like to be added/taken off just send me an ask (if your name is crossed out i couldnt tag you)

@hufflepuff5972 @inglourious-imagines @horrorxweasley @anxiousblanketqueen @dracoswhore007 @georgeweasleyswhre @pandaxnienke

#phoenixxphire #Charlie Weasley #Charlie weasley blurb #blurb #Charlie wealsey x you #charlie weasley x reader #charlie weasley smut

485 notes · View notes

miastideclock · 3 years

Text

Stray Kids Reaction To Their S/O Being Shy About Their Singing-Talents

anon asked:

Can you do stray kids reaction to their s/o being a good rapper and singer but they get shy and have low confidence? - 🐻💙

Of course love! I hope you like it x So sorry for the wait! While we're here, I just wanna say I'm sorry for the length difference of the individual reactions! * y/n/n is what i use for your nickname btw

Word Count: 3.5k-ish

Bang Chan

Silence. At least for the most part. You clicking the keyboard of your computer, Chan humming slightly as he clicked around on his own, as well as twisting and turning the dials on his audio mixer, connected to said computer. The sounds had sort of blended into the silence though, so neither of you really noticed it at this point.

A click louder than all of the others soon came from Chan's computer, meaning he was going to connect his progress to the speakers of his studio, so he could fully take in the track he was working on. He had played it what seemed like a million times already, but you didn't mind. You were already so phased out that he could be announcing the break up of Stray Kids', and you honestly wouldn't even catch it.

The familiar beat of their upcoming title track boomed through the speakers, and as if on autopilot, you sang along. You had heard the beginning of that very song so many times now, the lyrics were as good as engraved into the inside of your eyelids.

Once the first verse and chorus were over, the song stopped, as did you. It was when the song didn't play again you finally snapped out of your computer-trance. You shifted your eyes from the screen over to your boyfriend who was sitting on the other side of the room.

"Y/n."

You then realized you had been singing along, and probably not as quiet as you had thought. "Oh! I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to distract you. I'll keep quiet." You quickly apologized.

You were hanging out with your boyfriend, yes- but he was still at work, and you'd hate to be the reason for him switching out of his creative-mode.

"No! No, no, don't worry. You're just so good? How come I have never heard you sing before?" Chan grinned as he turned his spinny-chair to face you and fell back into it, looking at you with admiration.

You had been sitting on the floor with your back against the seat of the couch, so the coffee table by the mentioned couch had your laptop at shoulder-height, meaning you had to close the screen of your computer to see your boyfriend. Once you had done so, you moved your hands up to your face, covering your cheeks.

"I don't like the attention. I hate it when people look at me like- exactly like you're doing now, stop!" You giggled when Chan leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He decided to mess around with you and started staring you down. You laughed and begged him to stop, but the more you did, the more intensely he stared at you- until he eventually cracked, sending you both into fits of laughter.

Lee Know

"First things first rest in peace Uncle Phil."

The music blared from your headphones straight into your head, being the only thing keeping you motivated as you did some housework. Seeing as you were mopping when the J.Cole song started playing, you figured the handle would prove to be the perfect microphone.

"For real, you the only father that I ever knew." You continued, singing and rapping along while shaking your butt and cleaning the floor. Maybe not the world's most efficient cleaning strategy, but my-oh-my did it get the job done.

Due to the loud volume in your headphones, you didn't hear the front door open and shut, as your boyfriend came home for the day.

Minho didn't even get the chance to put down his bag before his attention was completely wrapped around you having a concert in your living-room. He quickly recognized the song and let his head bob along to the beat, even though he could only hear you rapping, and not the song itself. He kicked off his shoes and placed his things on the ground before he slowly made his way into the living-room, doing a little boogie as he did so.

It wasn't until you finally turned around almost a minute later you saw your boyfriend joking around, dancing to your rapping. You instantly dropped the mop and let out a little scream as he startled you, covering your face with your hands once you saw it was just him.

"Minho! What are you doing?" You cried out in embarrassement after removing your headphones. Minho couldn't help but chuckle at you before he came closer and gave you a kiss-hello.

"Y/n, I never knew you had such voice-control! You've never rapped in front of me before, why?" He asked when he pulled away, his arms still wrapped around your waist, but his face a few inches away from yours.

"Because you're an actual rapper in an actual band!! That's like showing Michelangelo your drawing!" You argued back, a massive smile on your face. Minho then continued to shower you in compliments, making you hide your blushing face from him by burying it into his chest.

Changbin

The kitchen had all kinds of different smells as you were stirring the pot of soup you had on the stove in front of you. The kitchen-window was open, letting in a fresh spring breeze, and the radio was playing a familiar song.

"Hold me close and hold me fast The magic spell you cast This is La Vie En Rose." You softly sang along, your body swaying back and forth to the tune. You continued to sing along as you used the wooden-spoon to stir around, making sure it didn't burn.

(bro, i think i fucked up my sOUP)

"Hey, Y/n/n." It suddenly came from the doorway to the kitchen, instantly causing you to stop singing and spin around. "Hi, Binnie." You gave him a smile and then turned back around, squeezing your eyes shut, only for a second- as if you were trying to erase the past ten seconds. You hoped the radio was louder than your voice, but that hope soon came crashing down.

"No, why'd you stop?" He asked as he placed a few sheets of paper on the table and continued over to you. You started smiling like an idiot for a second before you raised your hands to cover your face. Chanbin noticed and chuckled as he came up behind you and wrapped his arms around you. "Don't be shy!"

He then spun you around so you were facing him, but your hands still covered your face. This made Changbin just chuckle even more. He tried to jokingly pry your hands from your face, but you just shoved your head into his shoulder so he wouldn't be able to grab you properly. You either couldn't help but chuckle as you messed around, but quickly stopped once you remembered you were cooking.

You turned around to keep stirring your soup, Changbin never let go of you. "But tell me, why have I never heard you sing before when your voice is THAT good?" He asked, but you ignored him.

"For real?" He tried again, but you pretended he didn't say anything.

"Would you like some soup?" You asked him, turning slightly to look at him. He seemed amused, but he just nodded, accepting your choice of lunch.

Hyunjin

Hot water poured down your back, the whole shower smelling like your body wash. You had just gotten back from a run and decided to clean up a bit before Hyunjin came back from work. So after getting out of your leggings and hoodie, you had grabbed your speaker and headed for the washroom.

Knowing Hyunjin wasn't home, you qued the best of the best from your playlist, getting ready to absolutely shred the imaginary rap battles you were about to have. Banger after banger played as you sang into your microphone. Your mic being an empty shampoo bottle you had yet to throw out.

You were mid-shampoo when Streets by Doja Cat played, and you almost slipped and fell while hurriedly reaching for your microphone.

"Damn, papi, you a rare breed, no comparing." You borderline yelled, as if you had just gotten out of a failed relationship where you still loved your partner, when in fact that wasn't your case at all. You were very much in love with your boyfriend, and you were on great terms- but for the sake of your rap battle, you had to get into it.

"When other chickens tryna get in my coop 'Cause you're a one in a million There ain't no man like you!" Not to toot your own horn or anything, but you could confidently say you absolutely bodied that verse, and you were soon let know you weren't the only one who thought so.

(I don't actually think he is the one to cuss, but this is simply because I cannot think of another way to say it, so for the lack of a better word:) "Fuck it up, baby!" You heard Hyunjin hype you up on the other side of the bathroom door, making your stomach drop for a second.

"You're not supposed to be home yet." You answered him after turning off the speaker, and the shower. You stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around you, then went to open the door.

"Well, I had to hurry home when I heard the rap God themselves was having a concert in our bathroom." Hyunjin chuckled once you opened the door with almost a shameful face. "Should I talk to JYP about getting you a rap-audition, or..?" He dragged out the last word, kind of he was taunting you, but in the most loving way possible. Feeling your cheeks grow hot, you closed the door back up and locked him out.

"I'm never leaving this bathroom." You announced as you covered your face, even though Hyunjin could no longer see you.

"Y/n/n, I was kidding! You were great though, I might actually talk to JY-" He started again, but you cut him off by groaning, causing the both of you to break out laughing.

Han

Clicking of a pen. Gentle tapping of a foot. Frustrated hair ripping. You had seen these symptoms before- that's right, Jisung was in a slump.

You were at the studio with your boyfriend, and you were both seated in the sitting group, Jisung leaning his elbows on the table, head in his hands, tugging at his hair as if it would activate his creative juices. You had tagged along just to get out of the house, and maybe Jisung needed moral support, and wouldn't you have guessed- that was exactly what he needed.

"You good?" You asked him after he let out the umpteenth sigh in the past hour. He then finally confessed he just couldn't get the ending of the second verse down. "Why don't you sing it, so you can hear what's missing, rather than just reading it?"

He did as you suggested and sang through it. When he came to the part he was talking about, you also heard it. Something about it was just kinda.. off.

You tilted your head to the side as you were thinking of ways to better it, to try and help him. An idea popped into your head, and maybe it could work- after all you were no song writer. You tried your best to explain to Jisung what it was you were thinking, but about half-way through, you could see he was as lost as that one time Chan and Changbin had accidentally left the two of you behind at IKEA.

"I'm so sorry, babe. I don't fully understand what you mean." He confessed, and you nodded, knowing well that was him being sweet about the fact that you sucked at explaining things. So in the spirit of making it easier for him to understand, you just sang it. You sang through the song and added the part you had tried to explain.

"Did that make more sense?" You asked when you were done, looking from the sheet of paper up at your boyfriend, who was sat there, his lips slightly parted as his jaw hung lose. "Jisung? Babe?" You tried to snap him back to reality as it seemed he had zoned out, but only for a moment.

"Wait, that was so good? Since when were you that good?" Jisung suddenly lit up like a Christmas tree, smiling and almost bouncing in his seat. He continued to shower you in compliments, making you feel like a turtle trying to get back into its shell.

"Stop. If you ever mention me singing again, I will throw myself out the window." You said, both humor in your tone, and being dead serious at the same time.

"Okay, dramatic much?" Jisung joked back, making you shove his shoulder as you chuckled alongside him.

Felix

A car zoomed past you as you walked on the pavement on the side of the road, admiring the spring at its full bloom. You were almost a bit disappointed when you reached your home as you wanted to continue to look at the flowers, but that thought soon fell right out of your head. As you walked up the staircase to your apartment, you heard a constant noise grow louder and louder. You were about to turn the key when you realized the noise was more rhythmic than you originally thought, and that the music was coming from inside your apartment.

Curiosity completely consumed your body when you finally opened the door, and was met with a wall of noise. You took a few steps in and shut the door behind you, protecting the outside world from the sight you had in front of you.

Felix was using a hairbrush as he jumped around both on the floor and in the couch, crying out the lyrics to a song you didn't quite recognize. You laughed at your boyfriend as you kicked off your shoes and hung your coat in the closet.

Felix finally spotted you and quickly pulled out his phone that was connected to the speakers, and changed the song. The familiar intro of your favorite song soon played, and it didn't take as much as a second before you were as hyped as Felix were. You began jumping around and dancing with him, matching his energy.

Felix screamed the lyrics into the hairbrush before he swiftly tossed you the brush, letting you pop off as well. You rapped the words perfectly into the brush, standing on the couch as your concert evolved.

The song eventually came to an end, causing the both of you to fall breathlessly to the ground, heaving for air- massive smiles on your faces. The ground was cool against your now sweaty backs. A few seconds passed before Felix spoke.

"I don't think I have ever heard you rap before." He admitted. You kept staring at the ceiling, ignoring the boy at your side for a few seconds before you decided to answer him.

"And you will never hear it again."

Both you and Felix could back the claim that he had never moved as fast as he did when you said that. He had jumped up so he was on his elbows, facing you with wide eyes.

"No!! Please! You were so good!" He cried out, making you laugh at him. You just gave him a wink before you got to your feet and went to get the groceries you had left in the hallway.

Seungmin

"How about we go in there? Maybe I can find you a shirt?" You spoke after pointing to a store.

You were currently out shopping with your boyfriend, Seungmin. He had asked you to get him an outfit, not for any special occasion of anything, just for shits and giggles. It was your favorite type of dates, the ones where you don't really plan anything, you just end up doing fun and silly things.

Seungmin nodded and you soon dragged him into the store. The layout of the shop was like any other, so you soon made your way to the back where the mens clothing was.

As you were casually roaming the racks of clothes, the speakers soon started playing one of your favorite songs, making it impossible for you to not hum along. You kept looking at the different items of clothing on your left, Seungmin behind you, looking through the clothes on your right hand side.

Soon, the song picked up, you quietly jamming along, allowing yourself to softly sing along as there were no other customers near you.

Your hand suddenly slid over a material that caught your attention. It was a green oversized tee, with some colorful and funky letters on the front. You cut yourself off to turn around and show Seungmin the shirt, asking him what he thought about the item.

You held it up, but no reply. "Seungmin?" You tried again. It was odd seeing as he was looking at you with a slight smile, yet he was not replying to your question. You then lowered the shirt and waved your hand in front of his face, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"You okay?" You asked him once he gently shook his head to re-focus his eyes. He nodded gleefully.

"Sorry, your voice was just so good that I completely forgot where we were." He admitted, giving you a look. You pursed your lips and spun on your heel, so he wouldn't see your burning cheeks.

I.N

Date night! You and boyfriend Jeongin had just been at a local restaurant for a cute night out. Nothing overly fancy, just a chance to enjoy each others company, since you both had been busy lately.

After you had paid your bill, the two of you went for a walk to enjoy the warm, evening air. With nowhere in mind, you just casually wandered down the street, your hands intertwined as you swung them back and forth, pulling and pushing at each other in a joking manner.

"Woah, when did this get here?" Jeongin suddenly asked as you passed a building with a bright neon sign hanging out front. You looked to your side to see what it was he was talking about.

Karaoke, the neon sign read. You turned back to your boyfriend and gave him a smug smile, hoping he was thinking the same as you. He returned the smile and suddenly you were being shown to a private room by the hostess.

The first few songs were just the two of you messing around, screaming ABBA into your respective microphones. At one point while picking the next song, Jeongin saw a song he really wanted to do, but as you didn't know the lyrics, you decided to sit this one out.

He belted his heart out to the tune you found unfamiliar, but you enjoyed it nonetheless. Jeongin was after all a singer in a world-renowned band- boy had talent.

The song came to an end, resulting in you giving him a standing ovation as he playfully bowed repeatedly.

"I'm your biggest fan!" You raised your hands to your mouth and pretended to be yelling it at the 'stage', like he just held a concert for thousands. You both laughed at yourselves before Jeongin announced it would be his turn to sit one out. You took that as you cue to get up from the couch and pick a song.

You were no singer, never was- never will be, at least not in public. So when you had to pick a song, you didn't care if it didn't 'fit your range', or 'suit your voice'. You picked a song you liked and ran with it.

The melody started, and you raised your mic to your lips, singing the words that were showing on the large screen in front of you. You found it wasn't as fun to sing without your boyfriend, but got through the song anyways.

As most things do, the song came to and end. You placed the mic on the table and turned around to grab a bottle of water from the fridge. Mid turn, you saw your boyfriend like you never had before. His eyes were wide and his jaw was lose.

"What?" You asked him, uncapping the water bottle and taking a swig.

"Where did that come from?" He asked, eyes still wide as dinner-plates. You raised your eyebrow in a questioning manner, as if you were asking him to elaborate. "You're an amazing singer! How have I never heard that before?"

You felt your cheeks grow hot, and your eyes instantly found the ground, suddenly too shy to look at Jeongin. He chuckled at your reaction, and leaned forward so he could reach your hand from where he was sitting. He then pulled you back so you fell to the couch, crossing your arms over your chest, your shoulders up to your ears by now.

"We have to do this more often so I can hear you sing more!" He stated as he poked your arm, trying to get you to be less shy- and somehow it worked.

Hope you liked it! Feel free to request again!

-bentley

223 notes · View notes

karasimpno · 3 years

Text

Sunlight || Kita x Reader

“It's not about doing a lot of things, it's about being intentional about everything you do“ kita swooping in to make you set up a routine to escape d e p r e s s i o n lol I had to get undepressed before I could write this

contains: discussion of depression obviously, reader’s a little mean, kita is...kita and just wants the best for you

“Babe?” you hear the soft tone call out through the hallway.

You had heard the jingle of keys in the lock and the opening and closing of the front door but not a single muscle in your body can be willed to rouse at the moment.

You blink slowly instead.

Maybe the distant, periodic buzzing from your phone on the opposite side of your bed over the last few hours could explain the entrance of the former volleyball captain. A head of silvery white hair with traces of black appears in the doorway. Your eyes flick over your boyfriend’s neatly combed hair but avoid the molten irises you can’t bear to look at right now. Your eyes return to the nondescript blank wall adjacent where you lay on your side.

Every thought hurts. Including the most painful one—you don’t want him here right now. You can hardly focus your mind enough to watch as Kita silently treads over to the edge of the mattress. If your mind was anywhere else, you’d be irritated at him seeing you like this. But you can’t find it in yourself to care.

“Hey,” he whispers, gently but with firmness, now seated in the hollow carved out by your legs. You blink. “You have to get up,” he tells you.

Silence. His voice grows more stern and—is that worry in his voice? God, this is exactly why you don’t want him here right now.

“I haven’t heard from you in three days,“ he says simply. You inhale and you know he’s right. And of course you feel bad for it on top of everything. You apathetically reach out a hand to him, the brushing of the sides of your fingers against his outer thigh as close to an apology as you can muster right now.

Distantly, you feel yourself wanting to cry. Kita—loving Kita, caring Kita, perfect Kita—is the last person you want to be judging you right now. And he’s not judging you, not really. He’s only here because he loves you. But your mind won’t see that and your body doesn’t respond.

“What are you doing here?” is all you can manage. No “I’m sorry,” no “thank you,” no “you’re right and I know you just want what’s best.” None of the thoughts that would be pouring from your mouth if you weren’t so depressed.

“You have to get up,” your boyfriend repeats as your mind fights against the acknowledgment of how well he understands your current state, how intimately he knows you.

Sensation growing ever so slightly in your body, you feel the bed shift as Kita removes his weight from it. You hear the shinking of blinds and growl out a “fuck you” when bright midday sun invades your cave of solitude. It comes out harsher than you mean it to and the rational part of your brain wishes you could take it back, but Kita doesn’t acknowledge it as he swoops back around to the head of your bed, dropping into a low squat directly in your line of sight.

The golden irises you had been fixedly ignoring meet yours, unavoidable, and you feel your jaw tense. There’s so much intensity to them and it jolts a small stirring into your central nervous system.

He doesn’t even say anything, but you begin wiggling your toes, shifting slightly on the bed as the warmth from the sun begins to grow uncomfortable. You sigh and roll over onto your back, unable to maintain the borderline-painful eye contact any longer.

“I’m going to go make you some breakfast. Get dressed and meet me in the kitchen,” Kita states. It’s not a request.

You don’t even have the energy to groan as your boyfriend noiselessly rises to his full height and pads out of the room. Your chest feels like it might collapse in on itself as you watch him go—your ever-collected, always-caring boyfriend.

Shin... you find yourself thinking, and you’re impressed when the thought of his love and kindness slightly overpowers the wave of guilt that usually rises with it. You still feel dead inside and the thought of food isn’t very interesting to you, but you kick one leg, then the other, out from underneath the covers.

Sighing, you push yourself up, your head somehow feeling completely empty and like lead at the same time. Propping yourself up with your arms, you allow your mind to catch up with your body. You hear a gentle rustling of metal emanating from the kitchen. Shinsuke’s presence in your space is enough to raise you to your feet.

Standing sucks, and you promptly avoid the frizzy-haired, disheveled reflection of yourself in the mirror opposite your bed. It feels stupid to change out of the sweats you’re wearing into new sweats, but you begin stripping nonetheless, a part of you afraid of facing Shinsuke’s eyes if you were to ignore him.

You take a long moment to pull out a comfortable pair of sweatpants and throw on an old but cherished shirt. The slump of your shoulders hurts your neck but pulling them back would hurt more. You inhale heavily and lean against your dresser, watching the rays of sun filter through your bedroom. Your mind wanders as you get lost in the flecks of dust illuminated by the beams of light that have begun crawling across your floor towards the edge of your bed. You don’t remember the last time you left this room; the last few days have felt like a blur. Your body still has no desire to cooperate. And cooperate with what? you wouldn’t even be out of bed if it weren’t for....

The smell of Shinsuke’s cooking has begun to waft down the hallway and into your room. It smells delicious. But you’re not sure if you’ll be able to eat. Sighing, you shuffle slowly out of your bedroom and pad down the hallway to the kitchen. Your eyes are unfocused but as the sound of sizzling grows louder, you stop in the doorway to watch Shinsuke cook. He doesn’t look up at you, for which you are grateful, though you know he knows you’re there. You know he loves you, even looking how you do now, but seeing someone cook for you in your own home warms your heart just the tiniest bit, and you’d rather watch him unobserved.

Quietly, you make your way to the kitchen table as Kita pulls out two plates. You grimace - though unsure of what time it is, you’re certain Shinsuke has already eaten. He always eats at the same time. But you’re also certain that he must know that it would be even harder on you and make you even guiltier if he were to only cook something for you and watch while you eat. Instead, he plates one of your favorite meals on two dishes and sets one gently in front of you as he takes a seat opposite.

It is quiet.

You love Shinsuke and the silence is not uncomfortable. You feel him gazing at your face and you sigh, reluctantly bringing your tired eyes up to meet his. Their honeyed gold hue is warm, not incisive, and you feel safe. He extends his arm onto the table, palm up, eyes not leaving yours. You inhale and instinctually put your hand in his, which he quickly wraps his fingers around in a comfortable hold. He doesn’t say anything, only maintains your gaze and sighs as though seeing you in this state is painful for him but he loves you nonetheless. That much is clear, and you grow a little flustered under his gaze, cracking a slight smile at his apparent adoration, to which he responds with a squeeze of your hand before releasing it and picking up his fork.

You swallow and pick up your own, bolstered slightly by his presence. Maybe a few bites... you convince yourself and indulge in a forkful. It’s delicious, of course.

After a few moments of enjoying the meal, Kita breaks the comfortable silence.

“I want to help you come up with some things you can do every day so you don’t sink down into despair like this,” his words are precise but his tone is nothing but loving. All he wants is to help, and you know that. “Does that sound like something we could do together?”

You swallow the bite of food in your mouth and put your fork down, clearing your throat uncomfortably as you avoid his piercing gaze, gazing absently out the window. Feeling your distance, Shinsuke extends his hand to you again. And you take it, again, as you know you always will. You clear your throat once more and pause for a moment before answering.

“Yes. That is something we could do,” you feel him smile from across the table. He just wants to help. “But I can’t do everything you do,” you glance at his face, his brows furrow.

“Shin, I see you and you’re like...this perfect example of routine and consistency. It’s incredible and I wish I could be like that but I just can’t -”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he interrupts softly, in that gentle but assertive way of his. “I’m not asking you to be more like me. Not at all. It’s just that when you have a routine, you have things you can fall back on. Things that keep you from not being able to get back up. Does that make sense?”

“Yes,” you think for a moment. “But I just...see your routine and...” you clear your throat again. “I could barely get out of bed today,” you admit, self-frustration and depression clawing at your chest in turn. “I haven’t been able to shower in days. I can’t do much more than that, like you do.”

“So that’s where we’ll start,” Kita asserts, fervently. “It's not about doing a lot of things, it's about being intentional about everything you do,” his eyes are gentle but more incisive than they have been all day, like he’s looking right through to the heart behind your eyes. He grips your hand a little tighter.

“Does that sound okay?” he asks. Feeling his hand in yours you blink slowly and look deeper into the eyes so desperately seeking yours.

“Okay,” you whisper. He smiles, and it’s the most beautiful thing in the world.

“Okay.”

karasimpno masterlist

general taglist (send a message to be added!): @goddessofchaosleo @kodzurin @honeybunny-sawamura @bastardtetsu @kiyoobi @kuroos-simp @katsukis-sad-angel @suga-tofu

#kita shinsuke #kita x reader #kita shinsuke x reader #kita imagines #kita shinsuke imagines #elle writes #tw: fluff

141 notes · View notes

subwalls · 3 years

Text

Tales from the SMP Presents: The Haunted Mansion

An ongoing exploration of how the Inbetween drives my Kingdom Hearts brain crazy with paranoia! Less of an analysis this time, because we got confirmation (VALIDATION!!), and more of speculation, but yeah!

First of all! I was right not to trust this fucker.

Just kidding, that’s not the first thing we’re gonna talk about here. First of all, a gentle recap!

As I’ve mentioned before, the Inbetween has some uncanny resemblance to the Kingdom Hearts world known as Castle Oblivion. Castle Oblivion is known for being the place where the main series protagonist lost all of his memories, and even had false memories implanted while he was getting deeper and deeper into it.

You might be curious as to how the Kingdom Hearts protagonist escapes.

He doesn’t.

He needs outside help, and a lot of it, to get him out of that situation. Even then, it takes a whole year. He drove his own heart into the bottom of the abyss in his desperation to save someone he was tricked into thinking he knew, and he didn’t even regret it, because he was saving someone.

... A lot of people on Dream SMP have different ideas on what it means to save people.

Also, the castle also had a very plot-twisty secret where it used to be the lush and wonderful home of these three friends before they fell apart; one was lost to the Evil Dark Side™ (not real name), the other was trapped in the Realm of Darkness (real name), and the last one fell into a coma for TEN (10) YEARS and his body was left to be protected in the heart of the land, which was then locked and turned into Castle Oblivion.

So, pretty fucked up place! Not inherently evil, but the place of great misfortune and just... not very good for everyone there.

Let’s start at the beginning!

Welcome back indeed. Take notice of the wither rose in the pot, by the way, I’ll come back to this in a bit.

The first thing that stands out to me on this page is the smiley face, of course. It’s not the ever-iconic, ever-evil “:)”, but it’s similar enough that I think the callback is intentional. The smiley is c!Dream’s icon, of course, which... honestly makes me think that “:]” might be DreamXD, but that might be because I’m very very biased for the server god who simps for a dangerously apathetic cottagecore once-king.

Of course, it does also look kind of like Quackity’s face, and cc!Quackity has said something about big lore coming for him, but until further evidence is presented I’m disinclined to draw a connection there.

The Inbetween, as we’ve come to know the author of some of these books to be, being happy that Karl is continuing—it reminds me of the KH protagonist being told yes, good job, keep going, as he stumbles deeper and deeper into the castle that strips away memory after memory from his heart. Why does the Inbetween think that Karl’s time travel is important, his careful documentation of every story? Is it because the more he does it, the more he becomes attached? The more he becomes reliant on the Inbetween to feed the missing pieces of his memory?

Is it because the Inbetween, in parallel to c!Dream and c!Wilbur, prioritize the concept of story over the characters?

Things to think about. 🤔

Also kind of interesting that the Inbetween thinks Karl will eventually uncover “all [he] needs to”, which continues to make me think that the more c!Karl comes to the Inbetween the more he becomes... either dependent or over-trusting of it. Not sure. But weird things happen when it’s magic that tampers with memories, rather than trauma.

Basically, I’m getting “there is no war in Ba Sing Se” vibes.

The book continues to say that Karl probably has a lot of questions and that it would love to answer :] but never actually does. It’s trying to come off as helpful without actually being helpful. All it does is tempt him with the prospect of answers, and then draws him in deeper. “Continue onward, Karl.” But why?

Another wither rose pot.

Sidestepping the very innocuous, very surface-level information offered here (because that’s it, it’s nothing about the workings about the Inbetween, it’s just a little sweet carrot to distract with), I cannot even begin to convey the absolute terror that consumed me at the word “sleepy.”

I mentioned earlier that one of the original characters who lived in the land that would become Castle Oblivion went into a coma, right? But it’s more commonly referred to as sleeping. The game is even called “Birth by Sleep”, and there’s a whole thing about trying to get him to “wake up”. So the idea that time travel can take something out of the traveller that makes them tired, the idea that there is one specific room for sleeping quarters within the Inbetween, paired with that not-quite-right smiley face—I am traumatized, I tell you.

Yes it could be a “haha look what I did with the sentence, because day is a form of time and they time travel so long day is a funny term” kind of smiley, but. Kingdom Hearts has trained me to be suspicious of any talk of sleep.

There’s something just mildly unsettling about the way it continues, with the references to the “many Karls” and the “many many great stories” that sounds borderline condescending.

And now we get the, uh, “other” author. Notice how this one actually did not have a corresponding wither rose in a pot. I’m starting to think that the flower might actually be an indicator of the not-this-author-pictured-above, the probably-Inbetween-itself, so the fact that this book was found separately from a wither rose pot and it was tucked away under a tree... A tree, under which c!Karl will later find a bit of a refuge... yeah, different author. Or at least an author from a different time.

I’ll elaborate in a moment, but I do think that there’s three (3) mindsets/authors happening here: the sickly sweet Inbetween pretending to be good, the person trying to get c!Karl to distrust the Inbetween, and... someone who desperately wants c!Karl to stay in line.

This is the third... I don’t want to say author, because it too has the wither rose pot and is trying to keep c!Karl playing along with the Inbetween, but it’s much less coherent and much more desperate.

No “:]”, either.

Some possibilities I’m considering:

the Inbetween, but it’s like, a security subroutine or a glitch in the system,

the Inbetween, but it’s from a future wherein c!Karl has fucked it up to the point of desperation,

Karl / the other author, but it’s from a future, where trying to stray from the Inbetween resulted in something traumatic happening and they don’t want it to happen anymore.

Some fun possibilities to keep in mind. Anyway!

Ooh, the return of the wither rose pot.

For this part, the only thing I really have to say is that the repetition of the Inbetween trying to present itself as “a place to feel at ease” is... Well, as the lovely Fear has said in this post linked here, a place that tries and makes itself seem safe probably isn’t, because a genuinely safe place wouldn’t need to announce it all the time.

Very much sounding like a Ba Sing Se thing.

More importantly, the book actually says that it’s “wild” how the Inbetween is “so beautiful that even time travellers who go anywhere at anytime ever and they still choose here” with a good old “:]” tacked on at the end. That’s... that’s not just me thinking like that sounds kind of threatening, right? Like, time travellers can see anything anywhere, and they keep coming back to the Inbetween. Why?

Is it because they forget the beauty of anything else? Is it because it’s not beauty, but rather attachment and emotion that keeps someone going back to a place? If someone forgets their loved ones and precious things, then why would they go anywhere but the place where they’ve put all their stories?

Why did KH’s protagonist keep going deeper into Castle Oblivion even though he knew that the castle was taking apart his memories? Because he had one thing left: the fake, implanted memory, which told him that in order to save someone, he needed to push on no matter the personal cost.

So the real question is: are the time travellers coming back to the Inbetween because they want to, or because they no longer have a choice?

It regards all the different Karls with such... distant affection, too. “How beautiful,” it calls them, for wandering the blank halls with blank stares and blank hearts, none of which react to each other. It says that they “choose” to walk the halls, uncover mysteries, and tell stories. But what was the other choice? Was it really a choice at all?

Hmm.

Karl goes on to explore, and finds another book that does not have a wither rose pot, which tells him he has to go Under The Tree.mp3 and informs him that he “can’t afford not to”. Cool. Not ominous at all.

He finds another, which says the same thing.

Definitely not ominous. /s

The phrasing here is interesting, because it’s also phrased like a threat. Usually, when someone tells you that you “can’t afford not to”, you’re either looking at a scam or at the business end of a weapon. But the empty pages tell you that the author is trying to keep it down low. That’s one of the ways Minecraft players have found to express tone in the very limited form of Minecraft books, and it works splendidly.

Not to push my DreamXD agenda, but like... the door was iron. Iron doors are a weakness for Dreams and dreamons and, mayhaps, Dream’s dreamon.

I know it’s probably just because the iron door keeps in line with the color palette of the build but let me dream, alright.

Anyway, book content! And an interesting point of order: there is a wither rose pot. I said earlier that it might be an indicator of the Inbetween as an author, but that doesn’t make much sense now, does it? This is meant to be a place hidden from the “it” that I assume to be either the Inbetween itself or the one/s controlling it.

So why the wither rose pot inconsistency?

Unless it doesn’t mean that. Unless it’s just a metaphor for, say, memories withering away or something. Or maybe it’s just a pretty plant, for funsies! Who knows. If I had to guess, I’d say that (after much reflection) it’s likely less a mark of author and more a theme of, mm, memory status. The withering away of memories. It fits in with the Inbetween, because that’s what might be responsible for it, but the author/s of the book aren’t immune, either. They get blinks of clarity, with the hidden, tucked-away tomes, but they might not be completely free.

The next book, however, again lacks the wither rose pot. It might not be a coincidence that the one without the potential mark of a withering memory is the one that actually divulges some more information.

This book goes into slightly more detail about the warning, though not about whatever actual threat it is that the castle (which... Castle Oblivion, you know) presents.

It says that 1) it’s not what it seems, 2) the "truth about the other forms of you”, 3) this place “is not okay”, and 4) get in that portal we saw that was blocked off before.

We know that the Inbetween isn’t what it seems, but the “truth” about the other forms... Hm. This is, in fact, another Kingdom Hearts Thing. There’s a running joke that everyone on the very large cast of characters in KH that in the end, every person is actually either secretly a version of the antagonist (through possession or body splitting or whatever), or a version of the protagonist (through similar concepts). Multiple bodies and other forms is definitely a Thing in KH, though it’s not as oh-god-not-again definitely-bad as the sleeping thing.

I think the other forms have either become reliant on the Inbetween or have forgotten everything but the Inbetween, or both. Maybe more of the prior, since the warning is against trusting the place.

And, uh, this? Fucking terrifying. I love it to pieces.

Every single one of these books has a wither rose pot, and this is kind of why I think that the Inbetween or its master/s is, in some way, possibly functioning via routines and like... an AI. Or a genius loci kind of thing.

But good news, there aren’t 13 books, there are 14! This is important for Kingdom Hearts reasons, because Kingdom Hearts has a big thing about the numbers 13 and 7 (13 is the number of pieces of darkness, and 7 is the number of pieces of light, and this is equal somehow, don’t question it).

Now, 14 is an important meme number in the MCYT fandom, of course, but I don’t think it has terribly too much to do with the lore beyond a fun easter egg.

The books themselves trying to tell c!Karl to, essentially, go with the flow and the path that the Inbetween has set up for him is... something. I like the idea that it’s some future version of something trying to stop something from happening, but we all know it’s probably not going to work. Fun times.

And finally, this.

The Inbetween is a bit of a narcissist, huh? It won’t shut up about how it’s so pretty and irresistible and the whole definition of, like, a honey trap. Oh my god it even describes it as ~mysterious~ as a good trait, that’s hilarious.

More pertinently, it also calls the Inbetween “a time traveller’s dream”.

A time traveller’s. Dream.

Again, not to push my DreamXD agenda, BUT—

But! Getting back on track, the book expresses its eagerness to see Karl again, says their relationship is gonna be great, reminds him that his stories are important, and then tells him that he needs the Inbetween/author just like the SMP needs him.

Uh. He’s going to need the Inbetween?

Hello?

Why? How? So far it’s presented itself as being pretty and perfect but it never said anything about necessity! What’s going on!

Very much reminded of how Castle Oblivion was presented as “you need to keep going in even though it takes your memories away because there’s someone you need to save [fake but you don’t know that because you don’t remember anything]”, and I am afright.

Talk about subtle strings being tugged at here. I’m really seeing the beginning seeds of a dependency thing being sown, and if it weren’t for the side books painting giant neon warning signs everywhere, I don’t know if it would’ve caught on. An artificially cultivated concept of how important and great the Inbetween is, and don’t you just want to take all those stories from that messy world elsewhere but come back here in the end to take a break and exist and explore and oh, isn’t the Inbetween great, isn’t it wonderful?

Man, c!Dream wishes he was this good at subtle manipulation.

tldr; there are multiple authors trying to tug c!Karl in different directions via those books. The Kingdom Hearts parallels predict that his memory will be at stake, and he might not be able to escape without help.

#tales from the smp #dream smp #general thoughts #the inbetween is a scary place im telling u #a Place that wants to be your friend but probably has ulterior motives? oof!!

72 notes · View notes

telli1206 · 3 years

Text

The Heart Will Follow (Ch. 3)

Jay’s never had a crush...until he met Carlos. And now he can’t stay away.

Carlos doesn’t know what to make of Jay’s presence, yet. But what should he do, exactly, about a boy that’s both cute AND terrifying?

A collection of Jaylos isle meetings, inspired by this beautiful headcanon I came across randomly that I can’t get out of my head.

AO3

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3: Forever In Your Mind

“So...he just...left?”

Carlos bites his lip and lets his gaze drop to his lap. He’ll look anywhere to avoid Evie’s concentrated stare right now. He can hear the concern in her voice, but it feels too new, too...unsettling, to have someone care about his safety. He’s just not used to that. At all.

“I wonder why...” he hears Evie mutter to herself, and he looks up to catch sight of her furrowed brow and lips pursed tightly in thought. When she glances up and sees Carlos watching her, her eyes immediately soften, and she places a hand over his, flashing a warm smile to try to reassure him.

“Jay is so weird sometimes,” she muses, shaking her head. “Who knows why he was out there. The important thing is, he left you alone. Right?”

“I guess,” Carlos agrees, heaving a sigh. He decides against telling Evie exactly why Jay said he had chosen to leave him alone. He couldn’t really explain what Jay had said, honestly. Why would he give a shit about how Carlos’ mom would react? And his...eyes? Yeah, he definitely didn’t need to upset Evie any further with more of Jay’s weird comments.

“I-I didn’t get the impression that he’d try to steal from me again,” he offers, and quirks a smile when Evie beams back at him.

“Good! So let’s not waste another second then talking about that...that skeezy thief,” she huffs, and shifts her focus back to her open textbook. She flips through a few pages before noticing how Carlos has stilled, and is now sitting stiff and unmoving beside her. There’s a look of distress on his face, and his cheeks are blooming the brightest pink color.

“Ok. Something else is wrong. What is it?” Evie demands, and Carlos squeaks quietly at the forcefulness in her tone. He’s biting his tongue, but Evie can see the way his eyes are continuously darting to the door and back.

“No! Carlos, tell me you don’t. You don’t need to...” She pinches her nose, sighing in frustration at the way Carlos shifts in his seat, his hands pressed firmly into his lap. “You didn’t go before class started??”

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t have to! I swear. It...it just came up all of a sudden.”

Carlos can feel the guilt pooling in his gut already. He didn’t want to ignore all the help Evie had given him, all the advice that she had gathered to survive Dragon Hall.

Initially, Carlos had no regrets about the cup of coffee he drank this morning. More like the exact opposite - he was grateful.

Cruella had thrown a full mug at his head as he was trying to leave for school, which wasn’t unusual. Even though she had agreed to let him attend classes in exchange for extra chores after school and on the weekends, his departure every morning was a painful reminder to her of the chores that wouldn’t get done until later, including her breakfast dishes.

What WAS unusual about this morning, however, was that Carlos had managed to catch the mug this time without barely a spill of the scalding tar black coffee that it contained. With his mother already stomping out of the room in a fit of angry rambles to no one but herself, Carlos had taken full advantage of the hot liquid, flooding his belly and providing some satiation and warmth against the chill of the morning air.

It wasn’t until now, when the drink had caught up to his system, did the heeding of Evie’s number one warning cause him a tinge of remorse.

“Y-you’re going to have to hold it Carlos!” Evie hissed, her voice shrill with fear. “I wasn’t lying when I said that leaving class ALONE is a suicide mission!”

Carlos tries his best to settle his squirming. He crosses his ankles tightly, keeping his hands pressed firmly down to help ignore the feeling building inside. But the pressure is just too intense to ignore. He looks up at Evie just as the tears start to well in his eyes.

“Shit, FINE,” she groans, smacking her hand to her forehead. “Listen to me, ok? If you’re going to do this, there’s only one way to go.”

-----

Carlos shuffles quickly down the hall, trying his best to be quiet. Evie’s directions were very specific, and he plans to follow them perfectly. The little pangs of regret he feels for upsetting his new friend, his only friend, are still fresh, and he has no intention of hurting her like that again. Not after all she’s done for Carlos already.

“Take a right - you’ll walk past three classrooms and a bathroom. Walk past the bathroom. Do NOT use that one, Carlos. Ok? Keep walking. Promise me you’ll keep walking.”

He squeezes his eyes closed and scoots past the bathroom as promised, despite his borderline painful need to go right now. He’s not going to make it much longer, and he starts looking around at all the isolated doorways, contemplating the option of relieving himself there if he can’t manage to find the very specific bathroom Evie told him he absolutely had to use.

Luckily, he spots it just a few feet away on the other side of the hallway, exactly where Evie said it would be. He breathes a short sigh of relief as he darts across and slips through the door.

At first glance, the bathroom looks and sounds empty. But he knows better than to trust his senses completely. So Carlos takes a quick scan of each corner and stall to confirm that he is, indeed, alone before sliding into the last stall closest to the window and locking the door behind him.

Carlos completely forgets the world around him then, lost in the exhiliration of finally being able to relieve himself. He’s had to pee for so long he can’t even stop the happy groan that escapes his lips, the pressure inside immediately gone in that blissful moment. He’s so focused on that pleasant feeling that he almost...almost...doesn’t hear the soft creaking of the bathroom door opening.

It’s a slow sound, just barely audible, but he manages to catch it anyway, the years of constant need to remain alert and attentive now on his side. He sucks in his breath and forces himself to stop his stream, wincing in pain at the involuntary pause. He hops onto the toilet seat ledge nimbly and balances there, remaning motionless, quiet, and with his ears piqued to listen.

The door closes with a soft scrape along the damaged linoleum floor, followed closely by the pad of slow, deliberate footsteps. They pause for a moment at each stall as they move along, clearly looking for something. Or someone.

When they make a stop in front of Carlos’ stall, his muscles tense uncomfortably to make himself be as still as possible. He squeezes his eyes shut and silently wishes for whoever’s on the other side to leave him alone.

But instead, the feet step closer to him, and he hears a dry chuckle.

“Come out, come out wherever you are!” Jay sing-songs. “I know you’re in there, De Vil.”

Evil, poor Evie’s going to hate him for this.

Carlos lets out a breath and drops to the ground with a loud stomp. No point in being quiet now is there?

“Fine, fine! You caught me, ok? Just, let me finish pissing and I’ll come out. I’m almost done.”

“Aw, I interrupted your pee pee break??” Jay teases. “Sorry, pup! By all means, continue.”

Carlos rolls his eyes as he turns back to the toilet. Word travels fast at this school, and his mother’s transgressions were the talk of Dragon Hall within a day of his arrival. The puppy jokes and nicknames that have already started are beyond annoying, but there’s not much he can do about it.

He’s focused on finishing now, trying to hurry himself so Jay doesn’t have time to entertain the idea of breaking in the stall. But only a second later he can hear the lock jostling, making him jump a little and drop his aim. He curses at the pee trickling on his feet, shaking off and hurriedly tucking himself in just as Jay frees the latch and pushes the door open.

Carlos is met with a wicked smirk, which Jay immediately drops to a frown when he spots Carlos fumbling the button of his shorts closed.

“Boo, you’re no fun,” he mumbles, sauntering closer. Carlos stumbles back, slamming the backs of his knees into the porcelain bowl of the toilet and causing him to arch awkwardly. He turns his body and catches himself on the tank before he can fall farther, taking the opportunity to flick the handle and flush before he launches himself back.

“Hey there!” Jay snorts, grabbing Carlos around the waist and pulling him close when Carlos’ body lands against him. The boy is quick to twist and squirm, freeing himself from the thief and lunging for the door. Jay is faster though, and slams the stall shut with one hand before Carlos can escape.

“Come now, C, did I say it was time for us to leave??” Jay tuts. Carlos presses his face against the stall door, biting his lip hard to avoid a snappy retort. He’s at Jay’s mercy in this stall, and doubts he’ll be a fair match against the boy’s muscles, rippling obviously from the cutoff sleeves of his vest.

A surprisingly gentle hand cups under Carlos’ chin, guiding his face away from the door. Reluctantly, he follows it, until his body is turned and fully facing Jay. His face is tipped upward to meet Jay’s smile, which seems less menacing but somehow still cocky and triumphant. Carlos can’t fight the sneer on his own lips, which only prompts more laughter from Jay.

“Ohhh, someone’s a little fiery, huh De Vil? You’ve got some balls, considering you’re the one invading my bathroom without my permission.”

Carlos perks a brow, glaring questioningly at the brunette. “Your bathroom? I-I ...really? Ev-I mean, nobody, told me that.”

Jay shakes his head at that, and releases his grip on Carlos’ chin, letting his fingers drop to tease along his jawline instead. Carlos holds his breath at the gentle sensation, pushing himself into the door with enough force that he can feel the latch digging into his back. It’s painful, but if it’s the only way to spare some space between him and Jay, he’ll take what he can get.

“Guess that’s lesson one then, pup,” Jay taunts, fingers still lightly caressing Carlos’ face. “The halls are mine when class is in session. You got that?” Carlos musters a short nod. “Good. And that includes any place there’s not a teacher. You need to use the bathroom? Grab stuff from a storage closet? Or even just hide out in there, you gotta pay the toll.”

“T-toll?”

Jay still feels too close, so Carlos tries to shift back more, which only produces a sharp pain when the latch scrapes him harshly again. He’s grateful for the distraction, though, when Jay dips in closer and grins wide.

“Yep. Everyone’s gotta pay up. No exceptions.”

Carlos stares at Jay for a moment, but feels uneasy when the boy is more than happy to stare back at him, their noses close and practically touching. He swallows thickly then, letting his gaze fall to the floor between them as he carefully sorts his words.

“I-I...but...Jay. Y-you know. I already told...” he looks up for a second and catches a glance at Jay’s now audacious smirk. And that makes him seethe.

“You know I don’t have anything,” Carlos states flatly, feeling a new surge of confidence. “I already told you. My mom’s a bitch, I barely get food and clothes. You think I have shit to spare for you?”

He shrinks back after his bold outburst, waiting for Jay’s response. But the thief doesn’t move, and his smirk doesn’t fade. He does take a generous step back though, allowing almost an arm’s length between him and Carlos. Carlos relaxes slightly at that, breathing a soft sigh of relief when he’s able to free his back from the painful latch. But even with the space between them now, Jay’s eyes never leave his. Carlos hasn’t even seen him blink! And the lingering stare is making him shiver.

“Well, not all tolls have to be cash and stuff, do they?” Jay retorts, licking his lips a little. “I’ve accepted, other...forms of payment. But you know that, don’t you? Smart guy like you. I know you’ve heard the rumors.”

Carlos swallows again, his mouth feeling horribly dry all of a sudden. He has heard the rumors. How could he not? Jay and Mal are the big bads of the school. There’s plenty of stories being passed around by everyone, mostly pointing out the best ways to avoid bodily harm at the hands of the two of them. And while he has heard that both are mostly appeased by money or things to hock for money, the entire student body is also aware of Jay’s willingness to trade, physical pleasures, as well. Though Evie had made it clear that it’s usually girls that makes those kind of offers, the kind that Jay is happy to accept, Carlos can’t help but wonder if that’s what Jay’s implying right now. Because the way he looks at him, and the constant lazy scans of his eyes up and down Carlos’ body, are giving him pause.

Can Jay be asking for that? From Carlos? That seems...impossible.

But then Jay leans back in, bracing an arm above Carlos with a brow cocked and a suggestive curl to his lips, and Carlos thinks it might actually be entirely possible.

“I think you know what I’m thinking.” Jay interrupts Carlos’ thoughts with a waggle of his eyebrows. “Up to you, pup. You barged into my bathroom and used my stall. Now, how are you going to make that up to me, hm?”

Carlos chews on his lip, refusing to dare a look at Jay. He’s not sure what to say if he did, so he keeps his eyes trained on his fingers, tangling and untangling them together while he thinks.

Fuck, he really should have listened to Evie.

Both boys are distracted then by the slam! of the bathroom door and irritably loud clacks across the linoleum.

“Carlos?? Are you in here??”

Evie! Carlos bites back a smile.

“Ev-mmph!”

A hand claps over his mouth, with Jay’s eyes wide and glaring at him. Carlos squirms, twisting away from Jay’s hand and wriggling along the stall door in the process. Then they hear an audible sigh, followed by a few slower clicks forward.

“Carlos, I know you’re in there.”

He wants to answer, but Jay keeps his hand in place, putting a finger to his own lips to silence Carlos.

“Jay, I know you’re in there, too.”

Jay grits his teeth and rolls his eyes as Evie raps harshly on the door.

“Come on, boys. Do you think I can’t see your feet? Stop wasting my time and open up.”

Jay grumbles, dropping his hand from Carlos’ mouth and giving him the chance to scurry away from the door. Jay tries to reach for him again but Carlos slides back quickly, jamming himself behind the toilet and against the cement wall to avoid Jay’s grasp.

“Well fuck,” Jay grunts, giving Carlos a frustrated glare. At that moment they here the latch click, and Jay steps back just in time to avoid the door swinging open.

“Boys,” Evie scolds, her eyes stern as they dart between Jay and Carlos, before finally settling on the dark haired boy in front of her.

“And what do you think you’re doing, Jay?” she scolds, crossing her arms as she glares coldly at him. “You know you don’t belong in here.”

“Calm down, Blue,” Jay snickers. “You know damn well I go wherever I want. Besides, you’re the one in the men’s room, aren’t you? Last time I checked, you weren’t properly...equipped, to come in here.”

He glares back at her, a proud smirk splayed on his lips. But Evie doesn’t falter, stepping forward instead and marching her way slowly towards the other boy in the corner.

“As if I’d ever want to use a men’s room anyway,” she snaps back, reaching a hand towards Carlos, He grabs it, intertwining their fingers with a relieved smile. Evie flashes a grin his way before returning to Jay with a disgusted sneer.

“And you’ve never seen what I’m equipped with, so don’t you dare try to go around talking about me like I would actually stoop to being one of your little fucktoys.”

She gives Carlos a gentle tug and he springs quickly away from the wall, following Evie’s lead to stand behind her, placing her between him and Jay.

“This bathroom is neutral territory and you know it.” Evie grits, leaning into Jay’s face. “You’re this close to doing your own chemistry homework,” she threatens with a pinch of her fingers. “I bet Jafar wouldn’t be too keen on you getting kicked out of school and losing all your marks here.”

Jay scoffs and looks away, but stays silent. Evie breaks into a smug grin, shoving Jay lightly in the chest. “So, Carlos and I are going to leave now, and you can find another form of payment elsewhere. Got it?”

She whips away before Jay can respond and struts out of the stall, dragging Carlos along behind her. They manage to reach the door before Jay stomps out after them.

“Hey! You wanna be a little bitch then we could just re-nig on our deal! What do you think of that? Just leave you to the fucking wolves at this school. Puppy, too,” he adds with a nod to Carlos. “You’ll get beat so bad the first week you’ll be begging for us again!”

Evie’s gaze softens, and she looks at Jay with a bit of pity before turning back to Carlos.

“Sweetie, go right out the door and wait for me, ok?” Evie asks gently, but Carlos’ brow is furrowed, and he looks confused.

“But-”

“Carlos, please? I’ll be right out. We just need to...talk. It’ll just take a minute.”

Carlos watches her for a moment, searching her face. She smiles brightly at him, and he finally nods and walks out into the hall and leaves them alone.

Evie gives an exasperated sigh. “Look,” she starts, and she reachs for Jay’s hand to give it a squeeze. His eyes widen in surprise at the gesture. “I’m going to let this slide, ok? I just...don’t think you’re thinking straight right now.”

Jay throws a heated glare at Evie as her lips twitch into a smirk. “You don’t think you’re being subtle, do you?” she chuckles, shaking her head. “Carlos may not see what’s going on, but he’s the only one that’s clueless, Jay.”

She drops his hand and takes a step back, reaching for the door handle. “He’s my friend,” she whispers, just loud enough for Jay to hear. “And I’m going to protect him, so just...don’t do anything you might regret.”

Evie pulls the door open slightly and moves to leave, but pauses when she hears Jay snickering behind her.

“What, is that supposed to be some kind of threat?”

She glances up through the doorway and catches a glimpse of Carlos just outside. His eyes are wide with curiosity and worry, and Evie can’t stop herself from smiling.

“Take it however you want, Jay,” she quips over her shoulder. “I was only trying to give you some friendly advice.”

“We’re not friends,” he hisses through his teeth.

"Maybe we’re not,” Evie replies coldly, “But we’re not enemies, are we? Unless you want to change that? You know where to find me if you do,” she teases with a wiggle of her fingers.

“Bye for now, Jay-Jay.”

Evie giggles to herself as she walks out of the bathroom, ignoring the muffled roars coming from behind the now closed door and looping her arm through Carlos’ to pull him along.

“We can study at my house tonight, ok? I just need to see about fixing one little problem and then we can get going.”

#jaylos #jay x carlos #jay son of jafar #Carlos De Vil #evie grimhilde #mal bertha #descendants #the isle of the lost #platonic!carvie #malvie #platonic!jal #my writing #the heart will follow

27 notes · View notes

nvvermore · 3 years

Text

Ten Minutes Ago

An unexpected meeting backstage takes Ophélie by complete surprise [featuring @arcanecadenza's Cadenza ]

words: 2k

cw: none

accompaniment

—

With a final bow and one last dazzling smile, Ophélie turns and walks gracefully off stage. It’s only once she’s sure she’s safely behind the curtain and out of sight from the audience she picks up the pace, eager to return to the safety of her dressing room.

Despite how comfortable she’s become at the opera house and the cast and crew that came with it, the worst part of her night is when, without fail, she gets bombarded by those lucky enough (read: rich enough) to persuade someone to let them backstage here to seek the attention of the performers. And especially her. Perks of being a leading lady.

Of course, her legs are only so long and she can only walk so fast— especially in these damned heeled shoes— and she ends up getting caught by the crowd. It really isn’t a crowd, but it is quite a few people, all talking at once as they shower her with all sorts of empty complements and ask her all sorts of borderline invasive questions. Ophélie only manages to sneak away when another principle actor joins the group and with a tilt of his head lets her know it’s alright to run while she can.

And she does, making a mental note to thank him later.

Ophélie is grateful for her role here, not only because she’s living out her dream of course, but because that means she gets a personal dressing room with a locking door. A true blessing. She’s not quite as comfortable here as she is in her own flat, but after having been here for close to a year now, it’s a close second. She’s just got her hand on the doorknob when a new voice calls out from behind her.

“Excuse me, Miss Rozaliya.” Ophélie spins around, a little too quickly, to see a tall woman with dark curls standing a few feet away. She gets a good look at her, to make sure she’s not someone who works here, but she quickly decides that she's never seen her before, because she’d definitely remember seeing her. And she can’t help but get a good look at the very low neckline of the woman’s dress, and how said fabric hugs her hips.

Ophélie snaps her eyes up to the woman’s face before she can be considered to be staring. “Hello, I’m sorry, but I’m not seeing any more patrons tonight. But I appreciate you coming down for the show,” she explains, in her best dealing-with-pushy-guests voice.

“Ah, Amaryllis told me to tell you that they sent me,” she explains, “I’m Cadenza.” She holds out her hand in greeting. It wasn't often, but when Amaryllis sent someone to see her, it was usually important. And it wasn’t often they sent someone so pretty either.

She takes Cadenza’s outstretched hand, briefly feeling the calluses on her fingertips brush over her own. “Cadenza,” she echoes, “please, just call me Ophélie.” She glances back and forth down the hallway. Ophélie isn’t very thrilled about having any meet and greet out in the open. “Would you like to step inside with me?” She pushes open the door to her dressing room, gesturing for Cadenza to enter.

Ophélie makes a beeline for the fresh pitcher of water that’s been left at her vanity. “So what brings you backstage?” she asks, pouring herself a glass and hoping Cadenza is, well, normal, if Amaryllis is the one who sent her. She brings it up to her lips and takes a much needed drink. Cadenza still stands by the door a few feet away, her intense gaze still settled on Ophélie.

“Tonight was my first time seeing the show, and I was absolutely moved by your performance.” Cadenza smiles, and clasps her hands behind her back. She seems completely genuine, her words not at all like any of the others Ophélie has received tonight. She was expecting a director or composer or some other industry contact, not someone who enjoyed her performance for what it was.

Ophélie shuts her eyes and waves a dismissive hand in Cadenza's direction. “Oh please, when you’re on stage six days a week, it’s second nature. It’s practically a part of you.”

Just as she’s finishing up her deflection, Ophélie suddenly feels a presence before her. Then she feels those callused fingertips on her chin, gently nudging her face up. She almost wants to keep her eyes shut, but curiosity convinces her to do the opposite, lashes fluttering open to peer up at Cadenza.

“Second nature or not, your voice is breathtaking,” she asserts, and her face is close enough to render Ophélie speechless. She doesn’t bother to hide the way her gaze flickers across Cadenza’s face, so that she can take in all of the pretty freckles that span across her cheeks and how the brown of eyes turns to honey in the candlelight.

It takes Ophélie a moment to find her voice, but once she does she certainly doesn’t have the mind to deflect again. “Thank you,” her voice comes out soft, mousy, compared to the way she typically conducts herself. “That means a lot to hear.” And it does, somehow. Somehow, Ophélie knows Cadenza isn’t just another socialite dishing out empty compliments just to flatter her. Somehow she knows that Cadenza is the type of audience member that she gets on stage every night for, the ones who aren’t there just to say they were but to be moved by the story she and her fellow cast members tell.

Cadenza starts to run her thumb along her jaw, and Ophélie isn’t trying to hide how she’s staring down her lips. But then— much to Ophélie’s disappointment— a sharp knock at the door has Cadenza pulling away.

“Lie! Hurry up with your costumes! They’re off to the cleaners tonight!” A huffy voice calls from the other side of the door.

“I’m going, I'm going!” Ophélie brushes past Cadenza to get to positioning herself in front of the large mirror on the wall. She remembers her manners— only somewhat— and glances back to Cadenza as she reaches for the laces cinching the back of her costume together. “Ah, don’t mind me. I’ve got more on underneath, promise.”

Ophélie tries not to look so eager to strip down, but of course, she’s struggling to untie the damn thing. In front of the very beautiful stranger who just called her breathtaking, no less. She fumbles with the knot for a few more moments, all too aware of Cadenza and the stagehand waiting on the other side of the door. She's certain she’s just about to get it loose, but then suddenly Cadenza is murmuring into her ear and the pretty hands that she’s already thought far too much about in the last ten minutes are slipping the laces from her fingers.

“Here, let me.” Ophélie is completely frozen to her spot, too surprised to object even if she wanted to. And she doesn’t really want to tell Cadenza to stop undressing her. If anything, she’d hope for her to keep going. She swears Cadenza is taking her sweet time with the laces, being far more gentle and precise than she really needs to be. There’s no way she wouldn’t notice the goosebumps on her neck from where her breath ghosts over her skin.

“Shouldn’t you have an assistant that does this for you?” Cadenza asks, looking up into the mirror to address Ophélie more directly.

“I have a dresser before and during the show, but afterwards I’m just more comfortable doing it myself.” It would always be weird to have people help her with things like dressing, even if it was their job to do so.

“Should I stop then?”

“No,” she says, a little too quickly, and Cadenza’s breath tickles her bare shoulder as she chuckles.

Ophélie feels the dress is more than loose enough for her to slip out of now, but she doesn’t dare move until Cadenza tells her so. “There you go.” She lays a hand on Ophélie’s shoulder, and the goosebumps from her neck travel there.

Quickly, she steps forward to shimmy her way out of the costume, treating it with a little less care than she normally does. Certainly not enough to damage it, but she lets it drop all the way to the floor before stepping out of it. She may or may not put a little bit extra into the way she bends over to pick it up.

She is wearing a slip, petticoat, and stays, garments that are hardly any different from the ones she wears day-to-day. But she feels so very on display with the way Cadenza looks at her. Part of her wants to stay in just this— or to take off a little more— so Cadenza keeps looking at her that way. But she scolds herself, they were still basically complete strangers.

So Ophélie does the normal thing, snatching up her dressing gown from it’s hook and tying it tight. Maybe later she’ll let her mind wander on just how Cadenza would assist her further.

Another knock on the door pulls her out of her trance, again, and she scoops up the costume. It’s placed on a rack with her other ensembles for the night, and she pushes it out to the stagehand who, much to her relief, doesn’t look as annoyed as they had sounded. With a nod they roll away and Ophélie goes to turn back to Cadenza, but a hand on her arm stops her from shutting the door.

“I think I’ll take my leave now, but...” She reaches forward to take Ophélie’s hand in hers, bringing it to her lips. Ophélie is enraptured by the feeling of how they ghost across her knuckles as Cadenza speaks. “Once more, you were absolutely mesmerizing. Until we meet again, little nightingale.” She kisses the back of her hand, leaving behind a faint mark from her lipstick.

She’s gone down the hall before Ophélie can even find the words for a farewell.

—

Cadenza’s visits very quickly become regular post show affairs, and Ophélie becomes more and more prepared for them.

Ophélie starts looking for her from the stage, pleased each night she does spot her watching the show from Amaryllis’s private box. And sure enough, after the curtain is down she always finds Cadenza at her door.

Ophélie’s awkwardness subsides, thankfully, but as far as she’s concerned the tension between them only grows.

Cadenza asks all about her career, how she came to be at the opera house and her experience, and always listens attentively and always wants to hear more. Ophélie learns that the calluses on her fingertips aren’t just from the violin but from magic too, and begs her to tell her all about being a magician.

Tonight, the two of them had already been chatting and giggling away for close to an hour, each nestled onto the sofa and sipping on the tea Cadenza had brought as a gift.

“...So, I’m lucky to have landed such a role at all!” Ophélie takes a sip of her tea, just finishing up telling her all about her arduous audition process. She nudges Cadenza’s knee with her foot, teasing glint in her eyes. “But what about you? What's made you such a dedicated patron of the arts?” She’s confident she knows the answer by now.

Cadenza’s cheeks turn red, and she tries to hide by taking a sip of her tea. “Well, I've hardly been secretive about how much I enjoy your performances.”

“Aww, Cadenza,” Ophélie sits up, setting her teacup aside to scoot a little closer. “Don’t tell me you’ve been coming all this way just to see me.”

Cadenza chews on her lip. “Well, it didn’t start out that way.”

“But it turned out that way?” Ophélie grins.

“Shouldn’t you be on vocal rest after a show, usignolo?”

“It’s not my fault you’ve kept me busy.” Ophélie is on her knees, hovering over Cadenza, eyes flitting down to her lips. “Perhaps you ought to help me be quiet.”

#head empty only these sapphics #ophélie rozaliya #cadenza #cadenzlie #ophélie fic #my fic

22 notes · View notes

pastelsandpining · 3 years

Text

All I Want for Christmas (Yearning)

The third prompt in 12 Days of Christmas by @zelink-prompts

Prompt List

**Note: For the stories actually involving Christmas, I and a few other authors changed the holiday to Hylia’s Day (credit to @fatefulfaerie for this) so that it’s more relevant to Hyrule

Cover Art: @neezlebums be sure to show some love to the original here! I cannot stress this enough guys, PLEASE go like and reblog his work. He spends hours upon hours on every single cover drawing and it’s super disheartening that he’s getting 8 notes max on things he’s working really hard on. So please give his post as much love as you give mine!

Words: 1956

Summary: Link takes Zelda out to the Festival of Hylia in the hopes that she can enjoy it as a normal kid, and they share a moment during the fireworks show.

BotW pre-calamity (not HWAOC related)

**If I don’t have explicit warnings, read with caution. It simply means there’s nothing I could think of that could be potentially triggering, but I could’ve just missed something. In that case, please let me know and I’ll be more than happy to put a warning!**

Zelink-mas 2020 l Masterlist

The concept of soulmates is rather simple for something so deep. Whether it be one soul torn into two, or a red string of fate, or two souls that found comfort in one another, the premise was the same. Lifetime after lifetime, for the eternity that was to come and go, two hearts cried out for one another. They searched high and low, across continents and oceans, across timelines and ages, yearning for their partner—their lost piece.

Yet fate could be a cruel player in the game of existence. It could drive a stake in between a set of mates, or prevent their meeting entirely. It could taunt them with the prospect of forever, and take it away at twice the speed.

It could take those souls and resurrect them only in times of destruction and decimation.

How much could a soul handle? How much could it stretch and bend before it shattered? Was it still marked by trauma all those years later, when it was finally placed into a vessel and sent back into the world?

The soul of a hero, for instance, would be battered and bruised until fate decided there was no use for it.

And until that decision was made, the hero’s soul would stay by the goddess’s side, even thousands upon thousands of years later.

An impending war, what they referred to as a Calamity, was nothing new to the old souls. Yet they were filled with optimism, a sort of youthful comfort that wrapped like a blanket, and old souls did not entirely push away childish ideas and schemes.

Said hero was scampering through the streets, hand in hand with the young goddess, both tucked under cloaks that fared as a decent disguise given most participants were too drunk to think otherwise at this point in the night.

“You cheated,” Zelda accused through a fit of giggles, but she made no move to drop the stuffed sand seal.

“I did not,” Link defended with a borderline emergent smile as he stole a glance towards the booth they’d run from. “I was just… a little better than their usual customers.”

“Yes, because their regular customers consist of skilled soldiers of Hyrule.”

“You don’t know that.”

Zelda pressed a hand over her mouth and laughed again. It got harder to suppress his smile. Something about the freedom that came with sneaking out, on top of the thrill of being where they weren’t supposed to be, left him feeling giddy and mischievous. It’d taken a while to convince Zelda to come with him, but attending the Festival of Hylia to only bestow a blessing over the kingdom wasn’t fair. They’d attended earlier in the day, with the princess wearing a grand, white dress to make her look like the goddess, and all he wanted to do was give her a chance to experience the festival as a normal kid. It was the least she deserved, after spending all of her time and effort focused on the Calamity. Of course, the only way they could actually get out was in a disguise, but Link trusted the cloaks would do their jobs so long as the late night attendees were drinking properly.

“You’re positive we won’t get caught?” she asked, for what had to be the hundredth time since they’d left the castle.

“Do you trust me?” he asked in response, fixing his eyes on hers. They were twinkling even in the darkness, and he could see the Castle Town lights reflected in her irises. When he looked at her like this, when there was no one watching them with attentive eyes, he found it hard to believe she was only Hylian. She radiated a light they couldn’t see, but he knew it was there because she was always so warm. Her eyes were always so bright.

“Yes,” she answered with a nod. Once again, Link almost smiled. But instead, he pulled her by the hand over to another booth. The worker looked too tired to care, so he didn’t have to take much caution in sliding over the rupees and asking for a soft pretzel, a caramel apple that had caught Zelda’s eye, and a set of drinks. It was just a shame they had to release hands to hold it all.

“We used to come to the festivals all the time,” Zelda said after a few bites, letting her shoulder brush against his. “My mother would play the goddess and do the blessings, but after that, father would take me around to the different games and let me play. I was never any good at it, but they gave me prizes anyway. Mother was brilliant, though. She knew just how to get past the games’ rigging. After her death, father didn’t let me stay out as long. Once I was twelve, my only purpose at the festival was to give the blessings. Did your family always come?”

“Almost every year. My father always took us the first night,” Link spoke with a nod. “Because he was on duty the other two. He tried getting my sister and I to play the games, but I was only interested in the food.”

Another giggle passed the princess’s lips.

“It sounds like you haven’t changed at all,” she replied, nudging him again.

“Except now I know how to win,” he said and gestured to the stuffed sand seal.

“I still think you cheated.”

“They cheated us first.”

Zelda had no argument to that one. Link tossed the paper from his pretzel into the trash, then adjusted the fasten on his cloak.

“Do you think we’ll be able to see the fireworks?” she asked. “I used to watch them from my window all the time.”

“I don’t know if it’s better than the view from your window, but I know a place,” he replied. Zelda slipped an arm around his, like she’d done it a thousand times before, and he ducked his head to hide his face from the overhanging light.

“I’ll have to see it in order to judge,” she said simply. He fought back a smile and pulled her through the streets of Castle Town once more, until they’d reached the outskirts.

Link jumped up to grab the tree branch above them, then turned and held his hands out to her. Apparently his intentions were clear because even in the darkness, he could see that Zelda was appalled.

“We can’t climb on a random person’s house! Link! Get down!” she yelled in a whisper, but he just let the grin cover his face.

“It’s empty. For sale, I think,” he replied with a shrug. She looked around, as if she wanted to make sure they were really alone, before taking his hands. He pulled her into the tree effortlessly, then boosted her up onto the roof of a Castle Town house. “It’s no castle view, but you won’t be eye-level with the fireworks.”

“You can see the entire festival from here,” she spoke when he joined her at the top. “It’s not just lights. You can see everything. How did you..?”

“There was one year when my father had to attend all three nights, so it was just my sister and I. We ran out of rupees trying one of the games, and she was really upset, so I just.. snatched a prize and ran. We climbed onto a roof and stayed there for the rest of the festival, until I was sure he hadn’t sent any soldiers after us. It gave us a pretty good view.”

“You thief!” Zelda accused, giving him a shove. Link bit back a laugh.

“You’re the only person I’ve ever told. So now you’re the holder of some pretty powerful information.”

She hummed in thought and leaned her head against the plushie.

“I could do so much with this. I could tell everyone and finally have my freedom from you.”

“I don’t know if stealing a plushie from a festival booth ten years ago is enough to get me demoted.”

“It’s a serious crime,” but he could hear the laughter in Zelda’s voice. He turned to face her just as the first of the fireworks went off, drowning her in a soft yellow light. Even if he wanted to watch the fireworks, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her. She was in a category all of her own, and the word beautiful couldn’t describe her in her entirety.

He could call her hair golden, but it still didn’t capture her richness. He could compare her eyes to emeralds, and it still wouldn’t tell how precious they were. He could say her voice was a melody, and it still couldn’t describe how much he loved the song she sang each time she spoke. With every passing day, she grew more and more into the goddess whose blood she carried in her veins. She radiated a power and displayed a wisdom he’d never seen before, yet it felt so familiar to him that it never surprised him. He could watch her for hours, whether she was studying the Sheikah technology or praying at the foot of a goddess statue (not that he did, obviously, because that was sacred and private). It didn’t feel like a job--it never had. He’d give his life for her over and over again, like it was written into his blood and soul. Like he’d done it before.

With how far they’d come, Link wondered just how much could one feel for a single person. If he could shield her from the world, he would. But she didn’t need that. Zelda was strong and independent, but what he wouldn’t give to remain by her side for as long as he could.

She took his arm again and rested her head against his shoulder. Her hold was as gentle as she. Her fingers intertwined with his and he gave her hand a small squeeze.

“Link?”

He hummed to let her know he was listening and ready to answer any question she wanted to ask.

“What do you want for Hylia’s Day?”

The gift giving tradition held true even to this year, but Link didn’t quite know how to answer her. What he really wanted was her. He wanted her to be happy and safe and secure. He wanted the goddess to respond, and for her powers to awaken so she could just enjoy whatever time they had left.

Was there a stronger word that fit this feeling than yearning? Yearning for Zelda and her life and her future.

He bit his cheek in thought, because none of that could be said aloud.

“I want a promise,” he replied at last. “that once this is all over, you’ll keep researching. And that maybe I can stay your knight attendant for as long as you can tolerate me.”

She almost laughed.

“Link.. I can’t promise anything. If I can’t awaken this power, then-“

“You will,” he said, holding her hand tighter. “I believe in you.”

Zelda smiled at him—weak and small, but it still filled him with a warmth that made him feel all the more confident.

“I want a day off to just relax with our friends,” she stated, returning her head to his shoulder.

“All of our friends?”

“Yes, even Revali.”

Link chuckled and shook his head, watching the last of the fireworks pop. He’d never felt more relaxed than he did then. It was like they belonged there. Something about her was so calming that he didn’t want to go back to the castle just yet.

“Thank you,” she spoke softly into the quieting night. “For tonight.”

He wished he could kiss her.

Instead, he gave her hand a squeeze and said, “Anything you want, Princess. Just say the word.”

#zelink #botw link #botw zelda #botw zelink #zelink prompts #christmas prompts #take a shot every time one of my fics shits on revali #it's a common theme #can u tell I dislike the bird manchild #link just kiss her it's fine i promise u #it'll even do u all some good

51 notes · View notes

shenanigans-and-imagines · 4 years

Note

Would you be willing to do the NSFW alphabet with Cassian?

A/N: Gladly! Just as a reminder REBLOG AND COMMENT IF YOU LIKE THIS! These take just as much time as drabbles to finish and the tags hate me.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Cassian is downright clingy after sex. All he wants to do is hold you close and bury his head in your neck. He’s not letting you go for anything.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He loves your hands. He loves how they feel against his skin whether your placing a gentle touch on his cheek or digging your nails into his back. He loves how your fingers intertwine with his. It keeps him grounded in the here and now with you.

Admittedly there isn’t much about his body that Cassian really likes. It’s more of a vessel to get his head from room to room. But you’ve been making an effort to show him how much you love his body. He is starting to grow an appreciation for his jaw line, considering how many kisses you seem to lay on it.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Cassian loves nothing more than cumming in your cunt and your cunt exclusively. Even if you bring him right to the edge with your mouth, he’ll pull you away and all but beg to let him finish deep inside your pussy. He stands no chance of pulling out, he gets to lost in the feeling to pull away. And if you cum before him? He’s following you seconds after.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

You and Cassian once had sex on top of the holo table in command center.

He got back late from a mission and you were the only one still on the comms. He hadn’t seen you in a month. So, rather than wait until your shift ended, he took you right on the table. It was one of the most intense experience of your life. Neither of you can look at that table directly ever again.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Cassian has had a few partners over the years, but not as many as you’d think. Touch in general is borderline sacred so having enough trust in someone to sleep with them is kind of a big deal for Cassian. He’s been around enough to have experience, though.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Honestly, basically any position where he can feel your whole body pressed against his. Whether it’s your chest against his, or him bent over your back, he wants to feel every part of you. He wants to bury his face in your skin while his hands cling to you like a life line.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

That’s going to be a no in the humor department. 9/10 he’s using sex as a way to tell you things he can’t always properly put into words: I love you, I’ve missed you, I need you, I can’t lose you. You’re the one more likely to initiate playful sex and if that’s the case, he’s just there to tease you with a dry smile on his face.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He’s actually got a good amount of hair down below and doesn’t really trim it. He keeps everything clean if he can, but not much beyond that.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

I’ve said it once and I’ll say it until the end of time: CASSIAN ANDOR IS THE MOST TENDER LOVER IN THE STAR WARS FRANCHISE!!! He makes love to you every time you have sex. Whether it’s slow and sensual or fast and rough it’s all about showing you how he feels about you. It’s emotional and intense and utterly intimate.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Cassian jacks off as a form of stress release every now and then. Some times in his bunk, but most of the time in the cabin of his ship. It gives him some much needed privacy without much chance of getting interrupted. There’s some pleasure it in, but it’s almost of way to sort out his frustrations on his hand rather than you.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Hair pulling. Seriously, as soon as he’s getting anywhere near close all you have to do is rake your fingers through his hair, give it a hard tug and he’s gone.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Your bunk or his. Like I said, his goal is to make love to you every time you’re together, so having a place where he knows he can take his time is important. It’s a safe place far away from the problems of the Rebellion where he can get lost in you. A close second is his ship’s cabin.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

I’m not sure how else to phrase this except, whenever he sees you. You guys are constantly coming and going, sometimes on missions together but often not. It can be a few days or a few weeks between seeing each other. But nothing really get him going like seeing you again safe and sound. The first thing he wants to do after you give your reports is get you to his bunk as soon as possible.

A close second is anytime he sees you kick Imperial ass. We all saw how he looked at Jyn. You know I’m right.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Any foreplay involving you guys in Imperial uniforms. Seriously, Cassian is fighting space Nazis, having you in a space Nazi uniform is going to do the exact opposite of turning him on.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

It really is a toss up for him between given and receiving. He’ll never turn down a blow job and is always happy to get his mouth inbetween your legs.

He’s also, really good at eating you out; lots of small praises and moaning vibrations on your clit.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He leans toward the slow and sensual, but it really depends on how he’s feeling. There are times he can’t contain how much he needs you, tearing at your clothes and pulling you close to him like it’s the only thing keeping him sane. Other times it’s like he wants to memorize every inch of your skin as he listens in reverence to the noises you make.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Quickies usually happen if you haven’t seen each other in a long time. As soon as Cassian gives his report, he grabs you by the hand and pulls you into the first empty room or cargo hold he can find and takes you against the wall. It’s fast and messy, but lacks none of the feeling. It’s also just a taste of what you’ll get later that night.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Probably, but you guys are both going to have to do all the proper research before hand. He’s honestly pretty happy with what you’re doing now, but if you want to try new things, it doesn’t take much convincing.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

The longer Cassian and you have been away from each other, the longer he seems able to go. If you guys haven’t seen each other in a few days, it’s one fast one against the wall followed by a more thorough love making session involving at least two orgasms on your part.

If he hasn’t seen you in weeks to a month? Well, let’s just say you had to call in sick and nobody saw either of you for almost a full twenty-four hours.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

For himself, Cassian is more acquainted with his hand. Time away from base added to the possibility of having to leave at a moment’s notice means buying one hasn’t been on his priority list.

For the pair of you, you have a vibrator you like to bring in on occasion, but not much else. Same rules apply to you, being constantly on the move doesn’t give you a chance to build a collection.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Not so much in the, “I’m having fun torturing you sense”. More in the, “I want to make this last as long as possible so I don’t have to leave the feeling of your body against mine” variety. He teases, but it’s more desperate than playful.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Years of thin walls have taught him to be quiet; however, he can’t help but moan your name against your skin mixed in with a serious of praises and cursed grunts towards the end.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He doesn’t tell you he loves you for a really long time.

You know he does, through his actions and all the ways he tries to make you happy. But, it takes a while for him to find the words. He’s truly afraid that if he says those three little words out loud, it will somehow jinx everything and the galaxy will conspire to take you away from him like everyone else in his life.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Perfectly average girth with slightly above average length (6-7 inches). But, you don’t need anything more than that.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

It’s not so much a yearning for sex as a yearning for you. Sex is just a way to show you how he feels about you. He’s not a man of words, he’s a man of action. And sometimes the best way he knows to show you how much he misses you, or loves you, or needs you is to make love to you. So, with the knowledge that either of you can die the next time you’re out of each other’s sight, it’s pretty often.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Give him a few minutes to make sure you’re tucked against him with no plans on leaving and he’s out like a light. Seriously, nothing get him to actually sleep faster than a night of love making followed by you snuggled up against him. Nothing but pleasant dreams and darkness can follow that.

#cassian andor #cassian andor x reader #star wars #rogue one #star wars imagine #rogue one imagine #lemon

134 notes · View notes

yespleasefandomtrash · 4 years

Note

Catradora fluff prompt: those sleepovers back at the horde that Catra told Glimmer she and Adora used to have and stay up all night whispering about... *blush* *blush* I WANNA KNOW WHAT THEY WHISPERED ABOUT

aka some good pre-relationship fluff! love it love it love it. there isn't really a particular time this is set - maybe 6 months to a year before Adora left the Horde? it's pretty much however you want to read it :)

~*~

“Ugh. Training was brutal today.” Adora collapsed backwards onto her bunk, wincing at the jolt of pain that ran through her shoulder and earning a startled “mrp!” from Catra, who was lying at the foot of the bed. “I’m gonna be sore for a week.”

Catra resettled herself before rolling her eyes at her friend’s dramatic reaction. “You’re the one who stayed for extra practice, Adora. Practice that you definitely don’t need. So really, you have no one to blame but yourself.”

Adora tried to shift from where she was lying, wincing as her left shoulder started to cramp. Maybe she’d pulled something after all, ouch. “There’s no such thing as ‘unneeded’ practice. If I have any hopes of being promoted to Force Captain, I have to prove to Hordak and Shadow Weaver that I’m capable of working harder and doing better than anyone else!”

Catra’s nose wrinkled in disgust at the mention of their… superiors. “Come on, Adora. You don’t need to prove your worth to anyone, much less them of all people.”

Adora groaned as she rolled over onto her stomach. “You’re just saying that because you’re my friend.”

Catra frowned, sitting up to observe her, her tail flicking back and forth in an almost mesmerizing fashion. “Uh… You okay?”

“Yup. Totally fine.” Adora dropped her face into her pillow, muffling her voice. “Don’t you need to be getting back to your bunk? It’s… really late.” Like, after-midnight late.

Catra snorted. “Right. Because I’m just going to leave you while you’re in denial about some injury you caused yourself.”

Adora simply grunted in response. Now that her adrenaline rush had faded and she wasn’t jumping around and dodging the virtual princesses and their not-so-virtual weaponry… ugh. She was starting to feel some of those blows.

“Plus…” Although Adora refused to remove her face from her pillow, she didn’t have to look up to imagine the way that the corners of Catra’s lips had curled up into a mischievous smirk. “I filled Kyle’s shoes with mushed up ration bars, which means I have to hide wherever you are so Rogelio doesn’t come after me.”

That revelation got Adora to lift her head. “Aw, Catra! You said we were going to do that together,” she said accusingly, though her voice did sound whinier than she would have liked. “Or did you forget that we planned to hide in the vents afterwards to wait and watch him put his shoes on?”

“Well, you were too busy practicing without me,” Catra snapped. “I’m so sorry that I didn’t feel like waiting for you, Your Highness.”

Adora didn’t miss the way her friend’s ears flattened and how her eyes dropped to the floor - she always did that when she was upset. “Catra…” She tried to keep her voice gentle as she pushed herself up into a sitting position, ignoring what felt like fire coursing through her left shoulder. “I thought you were okay with waiting until I was done training today.”

“I was!” Catra’s tail flicked faster - she was either angry, anxious, or lying. Given the context, possibly a combination of all three.

“Really? Then why’d you put ration bars in Kyle’s shoes without me?” Adora sighed, rolling her eyes. “Catra, if you would just be honest with me we could figure out -”

“Shut up! I told you I don’t care!” Catra growled. She shoved Adora away, which was certainly not an action unfamiliar to either of them, but Adora’s bruised body and newfound shoulder injury did not take kindly to the sudden forceful contact.

She was barely able to bite back a pained groan as she hit the wall behind her - regrettably left shoulder first - and the sound instead more came out a muffled squeak. Adora instinctively reached up to grab her injured shoulder, hissing slowly and muttering a curse under her breath. Okay. So she probably hadn’t pulled anything, but it was starting to feel pretty clear that she had at least bruised the bone. Her arm was still too mobile for it to have been a dislocation.

As the pain gradually dulled from the impact and the static faded from the edges of her vision, she looked up to see Catra staring at her in horror - no, at her arm - before jumping to her feet and bolting out of the room.

“No, Catra!” Adora shouted, reaching out with her uninjured arm as if she could somehow catch her friend. “Wait!”

Catra didn’t wait. She never did, even when they were little kids. But old habits died hard, and Adora knew exactly where Catra had gone to hide.

“Alright, Adora,” she muttered, trying to brace herself for the inevitable pain that standing up would bring. “You got this.”

She forced herself to get to her feet, wincing but biting her tongue, determined to remain silent and not alert anyone to what she was doing. She was definitely not going to accidentally show Shadow Weaver her injuries. That never ended well.

After walking around in circles for several minutes and doing some stretches to get her blood flowing, Adora found the pain to be considerably more bearable. Still, she’d have to avoid using her left arm for the next week so it could heal. That in itself was almost more annoying than the pain of the injury.

Adora then grabbed her pillow and her blanket from her bunk, tucking the two bags of chips that Lonnie had gotten smuggled into the Fright Zone inside the blanket to hopefully decrease the chances of them being discovered even if she herself was caught.

Catra’s typical hideouts weren’t far from Adora’s ‘room’, which she’d always teased Catra about, telling her it was a sign that her subconscious couldn’t bear to be too far away from her even when she was angry. Catra heavily denied this theory, but as she denied most things she was too embarrassed to admit, her reaction really only enforced the theory as true in Adora’s mind.

Catra was exactly where Adora had suspected she’d be - huddled behind three half-empty oil barrels and a pile of assorted scrap metal, legs pulled to her chest and body facing the wall.

“Predictable much?” Adora said, unable to keep amusement out of her voice as she ducked her head to get in before sitting down next to her friend, leaving about a foot and a half of space between them. “Were you really just going to come here and sulk until morning? At least the bunks are more comfortable than a concrete floor.” She paused. “Well, not by much, but -”

“God, don’t you ever shut up?” Catra grumbled, making a point of turning farther away from her. “I obviously came here to be alone, so get the hell away.”

Adora bit back a sigh. Catra was so easy to read. “I know you didn’t mean to hurt me,” she finally said, her voice quiet. “And I know that I should have been more honest with you about how I may have overworked myself. Just a tad.”

“I told you to go away, Adora!”

“I don’t take orders from you,” Adora retorted. “Besides, I already brought everything except my mattress with me, so no, I’m not going anywhere except to sleep. Right here.”

A familiar growl rumbled in the back of Catra’s throat, and her hand flashed out like lightning as she dragged her claws down the wall in front of her. She then slowly turned around, her ears flat to her head. “You never listen to me.”

“Psh, that is not true,” Adora said with a snort as she fluffed her pillow. As much as that sad piece of fabric could be fluffed, anyways. She then placed it on the floor so she could rest her head on it later. “I just only listen to you when you have good advice, and we both know those moments are few and far between.”

Catra rolled her eyes, her ears slowly moving back upright. “I definitely remember telling you today that practicing extra would end badly, which I was right about, but you were all like ‘no, Catra, I need to impress everyone so they love me even more!’”

Adora snickered at her friend’s terrible impression. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I said. And I sounded just like that.”

“Shut up. You did!”

“Uh huh. Uh huh. Sure, no. Great job.” She then smiled at her. “But fine. You were right about that. However, I feel the need to point out that a broken clock is still right once a day.”

Catra glared at her, but all the tension in her body had dissipated, and there was no real anger in her eyes. “Hardy har har. You think you’re so funny.”

Adora grabbed the blanket she’d brought, dropping the two bags of chips onto the floor before laying the blanket over her legs. She then lifted the left corner to reveal the space still between her and Catra. “Care to join me?”

Something… soft flickered across Catra’s face, but it was soon replaced by her typical ‘I don’t care about anything’ expression. She did, however, slide under the blanket next to Adora, their backs both resting against the oil barrels that shielded them from view of anyone walking down the hall.

Adora offered her one of the bags of chips, but Catra refused, adamantly avoiding eye contact with her. Adora, long since used to her friend’s… well, that was pretty normal behavior for Catra, so she simply shrugged and opened a bag for herself, the crunch of her eating the only sound in the otherwise silent hallway.

“Do you want to steal all of Kyle’s belts tomorrow?” Catra suddenly blurted, an unmistakable blush growing on her features.

The seeming randomness of the question as well as Catra’s borderline-aggressive asking startled Adora and then prompted her to burst out laughing, which made Catra’s face turn a darker shade of red. “Oh my God. So his pants will either fall down all day or he’ll have to borrow one of Rogelio’s belts, which won’t be even close to fitting him.” She was snorting with laughter at this point, and had to wipe a stray tear from her face. “Obviously I want to do that.”

Adora could tell that Catra was trying to pretend it was no big deal that she’d agreed, but she knew her friend’s habits too well. Her ears had perked up - she was happy. “Cool. It’ll be fun.”

“It’ll be hilarious,” Adora countered, grinning. She then gave Catra a softer smile. “And I accept your apology for pranking Kyle today without me. No hard feelings.”

“I - I didn’t apologize for anything!” Catra protested, her face growing redder by the second. “I’m not sorry I pranked Kyle without you!”

“Uh huh. Sure you’re not.”

Catra glared at her, but her glare soon morphed into a mischievous smirk as she snatched a handful of chips from Adora’s bag.

“Hey!” Adora turned her body away, clutching her chips to her chest. “I offered you your own bag, and you turned it down! You don’t get to steal any of mine just because you missed your chance.”

“But I don’t want a whole bag.” Catra began eating the chips she’d stolen before grinning at her. “I just wanted a few. And yours were readily available.”

Adora sighed. Well, it wasn’t like they didn’t always end up sharing food. “Fine. But you’re ridiculous.”

“You’re one to talk, Miss ‘I wanna be Force Captain so badly I’m willing to break my arm’.”

“I didn’t break my arm. I just bruised my shoulder a little.” Catra glared at her. “Okay, a lot. But I’ll be fine in a few days!”

“Yeah, well, have fun hiding it from Shadow Weaver until then. It was nice knowing you.”

Adora winced. She was not looking forward to that.

Catra seemed to notice her expression, as she groaned and rolled her eyes dramatically. “Ugh, fine. I’ll help you hide it from her.”

Adora beamed. “Aw, really?”

Catra glared at her again. “This is not because I like you. I just don’t want to see you pouting for the next week because you think you ruined your chances of becoming Force Captain. You’re annoying when you’re sad.”

Adora was tempted to fire back a teasing comment, but a more serious question nagged at the back of her mind. “Do you think I did?” she asked quietly. “Ruined my chances, I mean.”

“Oh my God, Adora, really? Are you kidding -” Catra glanced at Adora, who tried not to flinch under her friend’s gaze. “Oh. You’re… serious.”

“It - It doesn’t matter,” Adora hastily said, embarrassed at her moment of insecurity. Ugh, she could feel her face getting red. “Forget I said anything. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“Hey.” Catra’s voice was gentle, a tone unfamiliar to most who knew her. Except Adora. “You are more qualified than any other cadet here to be Force Captain, okay? A little injury that I bet you’ll shake off before the end of the week doesn’t change that.”

Adora stared at her for a moment, then felt a bashful grin breaking out across her face. “You really think so?”

Catra snorted. “Um, duh.” She then poked Adora’s nose - carefully, so as not to scratch her. “But don’t you dare tell anyone I said so. Ever. I’ve worked too hard to perfect my ‘I don’t give a shit’ persona for you to ruin it with one sentimental moment.”

Adora laughed, and she slid down some from sitting upright in order to lean her head against Catra’s shoulder. “Aw. I knew you liked me.”

“Oh, whatever,” Catra grumbled, though there was no bite to her words. “You’re only fooling yourself.”

Adora couldn’t help but sigh in contentment. “You’re my best friend. You know that, right?”

Catra stiffened, and Adora began to panic and wondered if she’d accidentally taken their emotional openness a step too far, but then she felt Catra relax. “Yeah. I know.” She hesitated, then rested her head on top of Adora’s.

For Catra, that was a huge step forward in… er, being able to connect to other people at all, really. And not wanting to ruin the moment, Adora simply smiled, pulling the blanket up closer to both of them. The blanket’s warmth combined with the dull vibrations of Catra’s quiet purring was enough to make her drowsy, and soon she found her eyelids fluttering shut. The last thing she remembered before falling asleep was the feeling of someone’s hands slipping gently into hers.

Adora smiled.

Everything was perfect.

~*~

thank you for reading!

#my writing #catradora #spop catradora #spop catra #spop adora #spop spoilers #not really tho #she ra #catra #adora #catradora fluff #pre relationship #fanfiction #she ra season five #catradora prompt

182 notes · View notes

tuff-and-fluff-archives · 3 years

Text

Baby, You’re my Number One

Word Count: 1,486

Content Warnings: None

Pairing: Ruby + Arthur (Mystery Skulls Animated)

I know this is the first time I’ve ever done something like this, but since I first got a crush on Arthur over four years ago, I figured I would celebrate finally shipping with him by writing a lil drabble of him finally confessing to me. This fic is really messy and borderline incomplete, but I just wanted to get it out so I can start enjoying my ship with him. I hope you enjoy reading anyway! ♥

Tag List: @cringyalienships @gorillazgirlfriend @nanonami-loves @selfshippinglover @weirdoslovingweirdos(Thank you all for participating in the f/o takeover and giving Arthur some words of encouragement! :3c)

Ruby let out a yawn as she propped her head up on her elbow at the front counter of the Pepper Paradiso, the family restaurant owned by her foster parents. Even with the eatery's popularity in the small town of Tempo, hardly anybody had walked through the front doors in the past hour. Ruby had expected this to happen, though; it was a slow Monday night in the middle of autumn, when the tourist season was already long over, and most of the warm-blooded Texas citizens weren't willing to brave the cold night air, even for a good meal.

Ruby glanced over to the clock. 6:18. God, she still had to endure nearly four more hours of just standing around and doing nothing. All she could hope for at that point was for someone, anyone to come through the doors and give her something to-

Dingy, ding!

Ruby stood up straight and snapped her attention towards the front door as she heard the bell above the entryway chiming, but she quickly relaxed again as she instantly recognized just who had entered the restaurant. It was Arthur, a close friend of Ruby's older brother Lewis. She had hung out with Lewis's group of friends plenty of times in the past; in fact, he had nearly insisted on it, as the young introverted girl struggled to make friends on her own. Even if she preferred being on her own, however, there was one reason why she was always more than willing to comply with her brother's mandatory invites.

And that reason was walking towards her right now.

"Hi, Arthur," she greeted him shyly as she tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear in a last-ditch attempt to improve her appearance for him. "What brings you by tonight?"

"Uh, h-hey, Ruby," he weakly returned the greeting. "I just wanted to drop by for a visit, heh…” He looked the other way and cleared his throat before turning back to Ruby with a sudden intensity in his amber eyes. “Actually, there’s something I wanted to ask you.”

Ruby raised her eyebrows and stood up straight, her attention now fully captured. She’d never seen him look so determined. “Oh, is something up?”

Arthur’s slouch returned as he suddenly stared at the floor and rubbed the back of his neck. “W-well, it’s not that important. If you’re busy right now then I can just, like, come back later...”

“Dude, c’mon,” Ruby chuckled as she gestured to the empty restaurant behind her, “does it look like we’re busy right now?” She stepped out from behind the counter and walked around to stand in front of Arthur. “I’ve got time.”

A sparkle came back to Arthur’s eyes as he confidently stood up straight again, inadvertently looming over Ruby and unknowingly making her heart skip a beat as she looked up at him and admired his gentle smile.

“Uh, do you mind if we head outside for a bit?” Arthur asked bashfully. “I would just r-rather do this without any interruptions.”

Do what?, Ruby couldn’t but wonder. “Oh, sure,” she answered, and she quietly walked behind Arthur toward the front door, where he held it open for her and allowed her to exit before he followed. He’s always such a gentleman…

The two stood in the cold night air under the warm glow of the restaurant’s neon sign, a soft breeze tickling Ruby’s cheeks as she stared up at Arthur expectantly. “So,” she broke the awkward silence, “what did you wanna ask me?”

“Well, uh, it’s not so much a question, but just like, something I’ve been thinking about.” Arthur took a deep breath, as if he was centering himself, before he continued, “Ya know, w-we’ve known each other for a few years now, and even if we’ve never hung out, like, alone or anything, I still have a really good time when I’m with you. You’re always totally nice to me too, and I think you’re super funny and smart too! A-and I share more interests with you than anyone else I know, so maybe it’s just me, but I’ve always felt like we go really well together...”

Ruby felt her knees going weak and eyes growing cloudy as she listened with a widening grin to Arthur’s sudden bombarding of compliments. She brought a hand up to shyly cover her dopey grin as she continued to listen and try to calm her racing heartbeat. She didn’t want to get her hopes up, and yet she couldn’t help but think that this almost sounded like some kind of confession.

Arthur nervously rubbed his arm and looked to the side, but found the courage to go on, “Maybe I’ve just been takin’ it the wrong way and you’re nice to everybody the same way that you’re always so nice to me. B-but I really love hanging out with you, and listening to you talk, and making you smile… and it’s okay if you wanna say no! But I r-really want to be someone who can keep making you smile as much as possible, and I would be honored if you felt the same about me…”

There was a stillness to the air as Ruby fully absorbed everything she had just heard. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply through her nose, trying desperately to stop herself from shedding any tears in front of the guy that she’d had a crush on for years. The guy who had actually felt the same about her, after all this time, he really loved her too!

Arthur looked at her patiently, a drop of sweat running down the side of his face as his eager grin began to falter. “R-Ruby?.. C’mon, don’t leave me hanging. What… what do you think?”

Ruby let out a deep sigh, and at last she opened her eyes and tilted her head up to look at Arthur, with the tears in her eyes being instantly recognizable in the light. “Arthur,” she said with a shy smile, “are you… are you saying that you love me?”

His eyes went wide as he bit his lip in near reluctance, but at last he was able to overcome his fears of rejection and finally tell her, “Y-yeah. Yeah, I am.” With such a heavy weight off of his mind, he at last had the courage to smile at her as he affirmed, “I love you, Ruby.”

Even though she had figured out what he was trying to tell her by then, hearing him finally say those three words to her made her heart swell with joy, and before she could stop herself, she sprang forward and tightly wrapped her arms around Arthur’s waist as she buried her face in his shirt. Arthur just knew his face was burning red as she felt Ruby push her smaller body against him, but he still returned the the gesture as he gently put his arms around her as well, even daring to run a hand through her soft, curly hair. “Heh, I suppose this means you feel the same?”

“Yes. God yes,” Ruby answered, her voice muffled by the fabric of his shirt. “I’ve loved you for so long, Arthur.” She just barely pulled her face away to look up at him, a few stray tears escaping from her eyes. “You have no idea how happy I am right now.”

Arthur let out a chuckle and leaned down to press his forehead to hers lovingly. “I think I’ve got a pretty good idea of how you’re feeling.” He wiped a few tears from her cheek with his thumb, and his heart skipped a beat when she nuzzled against his hand with her eyes contently closed. Her eyes fluttered open again, and as she looked back up at him, she found her gaze abruptly stopping just below his nose. She began leaning in closer, and before either of them truly realized what was about to happen, she softly pressed a kiss to his lips for a brief moment before pulling away just as quickly. As she looked back up into his eyes, it almost seemed like they were sparkling as he stared down at her with a starstruck open-mouth grin and bright blush in his cheeks.

“Sorry,” Ruby said, “is it too early for kissing?”

All Arthur could do was shake his head as he attempted to regain his senses. Finally, he was able to stutter, “No, that w-was okay.” He pulled her in closer as he began to lean in himself. “In fact,” he mumbled against her lips, “that was amazing.”

And before a single word more could be uttered, the two new lovers closed the gap between each other and let their lips gently mingle as they held each other tight. The only thing that existed to them now, even if it was just for the moment, was each other, and frankly, they couldn’t have been happier.

#ruby's writing #self shipping #oc x canon #self shipping community #self ship writing #💜: long live the king #also the title is a mystery skulls song!! :3c #honestly im not proud of this and this fic is more like a rough draft but oh well #its done so now i can just simp over arthur freely hhh BYE #f/ovember

29 notes · View notes

dammitlogan · 4 years

Text

Babe | Kageyama Tobio x Reader

wc: 2k

Another day, another game. That was your motto at this point of the volleyball season. Days seemed to be a never-ending loop of volleyball, be it practice or a game. Not that you minded; you loved it actually. Even though you were only a manager for the Karasuno boys’ volleyball team, you looked forward to each day. Even on days like this: the days you arrive at the school at six in the morning on a Saturday to catch the bus to a tournament.

It was rough, but it was definitely worth it.

Yawning, you lean into Hinata’s side as you wait for the rest of the team to file into the bus. He blinks tiredly and chuckles. “Do I make a good pillow, (Y/N)?” He teases through a yawn. You only hum in contentment, closing your eyes for a moment.

”Oi! You gonna take a nap in the parking lot or get on the bus, dumbasses,” Kageyama complains. You frown, peeking at him through one eye. He impatiently waits at the door of the bus, usual scowl in place. Groaning, you pull yourself off Hinata and stumble toward the bus.

”It’s too early for yelling, grumpy pants,” you mumble as you pass him to enter the bus, playfully pushing his shoulder. He grunts, and you are well aware he rolled his eyes before following after you. Plopping yourself in the only empty set of seats, Kageyama and Hinata pile in next to you. Kageyama’s shoulder presses into yours and he stiffens immediately. You can’t help but giggle at his obvious discomfort.

”Do you wanna switch seats with me, Kageyama?”

He stares at you for a moment with an unreadable expression. He looks oddly embarrassed. You’re too tired to even try to read into the hidden meanings of minuscule pieces in his expression, so his glare is all that is evident to you. However, you also barely notice a tinge of pink coloring his ears.

”No.”

”Are ya sureeeee?”

”Yes.”

”Are ya sure you’re sure?”

”Shut up already.”

”Fine,” you huff, leaning into his shoulder. “I’m gonna be using you as a pillow then. I don’t want to bump my head on the window.”

You shuffle into a more comfortable position, finding it the most comfortable borderline curled into Kageyama’s side. Closing your eyes, you expect a quick retort: a refusal of some sort or an insult. He would try to fight you regardless of knowing he would never win. However, he is quiet for a moment. You wait in the stiff silence, feeling his tensing shoulders beneath your cheek. You’re about to question his peculiar behavior, but you are stopped before you have the chance.

”Whatever.” He is clear the discussion is over.

As you doze off, he prays that you aren’t close enough to hear his racing heart.

*~*~*

Stretching your hands over your head, you blink in your surroundings. It felt good to stretch after being on a stuffy bus for so long. As everyone marches into the gymnasium with their stuff, you teasingly nudge Kageyama with your elbow.

“You’re a good pillow, you know that?”

He glares down at you for a moment, unable to think of a proper retort. Quickly, he looks away, as if he never saw you. You stare for a moment, confused by his lack of comebacks today. You hardly notice his, once again, pink ears. You fight off your own blush as you notice for the hundredth time that week just how pretty he is.

Shrugging off his weird mood and pounding heart, you look around the building you have entered instead. It was pretty big, larger than the Karasuno gymnasium even. The amount of teams and spectators already filing in only make it seem larger.

Behind you, Hinata watches at the interaction curiously, noticing the blushing and awkward composure. Though he wants to shrug it off, something urges him to get a second opinion. Grabbing Tanaka by his jacket sleeve, he motions for the upperclassman to come closer. Once they were a safe distance from the group, Hinata quickly glances around as if Kageyama would appear suddenly. Squinting thoughtfully, he lifts a hand to shield his mouth. “I think Kageyama has a crush,” he whispers carefully, gesturing to you and said boy with a nod of his head.

Tanaka grins wickedly. “Oh?”

They watch for a moment as you walk in a comfortable silence next to Kageyama. Slowly, moving almost robotically, he steals a glance at you before ripping his gaze elsewhere. The pink coloring of his ears only darkens. Hinata and Tanaka give each other a knowing look, giggling like two school girls. Suddenly, Tanaka becomes alarmingly serious. His stony face becomes similar to that of a soldier.

“You know what this means.”

”Huh?”

”We have to do something!”

Hinata nods excitedly, saluting to his “lieutenant”. Scheming, the players place their bags along the wall of the gymnasium. They, very conspicuously, observe you and Kageyama and question whether you like him or not. Most signs point to yes, but they couldn’t wrap their head as to why.

In the midst of their theorizing, Oikawa arrogantly approaches Kageyama. They seem to start arguing, which isn’t that surprising. Awkwardly, you slowly shift away from the pair. You attempt to look unbothered, but you were sure it was obvious you weren’t sure what to do. Soon enough, you wander to a spot by Hinata and Tanaka. You begin to strike conversation, but they ignore you for the sake of watching Kageyama.

”Ah, man. Looks like Kageyama is in trouble,” Tanaka mutters. You quirk a brow at him.

”I think he’ll be fine,” you laugh. He shakes his head firmly, closing his eyes and clenching his fist dramatically. Oikawa laughs and Kageyama’s cheeks flush.

“No. We have lost a soldier.”

”Kageyama will survive.”

”But if he gets all annoyed, he’ll be too distracted to play his best!” Hinata argues. You honestly doubt Kageyama would allow his feelings to get in the way of a match. Watching the scene, you had to admit you felt bad abandoning him. He angrily yells at his prior teacher.

”He’ll be fine,” you attempt to convince yourself. Though you tried to hold the uncertainty in your tone, enough slipped out to inform the boys that you were genuinely worried.

”I think you should go save him, (Y/N).” Hinata suggests. Tanaka nods in approval, firmly shoving you into their direction. You turn back to them, attempting to stay put as they fight against you.

”Why can’t you? Just say you need him for something if it bothers you that much!”

”Noooo, we can’t do that. We- uh... We gotta go get something off the bus actually, right, Hinata?”

”Yup! You should pretend to be his girlfriend! Then Oikawa will leave him alone.”

Your attempts to protest were silenced with a final shove and you stumbled forward. You glare over your shoulder at your motivators, who shiver in response but give you a thumbs up nonetheless. You quietly clear your throat and straighten your posture before approaching. Slinging an arm around Kageyama’s waist, you smile brightly at Oikawa. His teasing expression quickly shifts into one of surprise.

”Hi! I’m (Y/N). Nice to meet you,” you greet with the friendliest air you can manage. He blinks at your sudden appearance, before introducing himself back just as energetically. Turning to Kageyama, you mentally brace yourself. Hopefully, he’d be able to play along and not hate you afterwards. Quickly, press a gentle kiss to his cheek. A fiery red creeps up Kageyama’s neck and cheeks immediately. Oikawa tries to suppress a laugh. Gently, you grasp both his hands in yours. “Could you help me with something, babe?”

“B- Ba- You- Wh- Bab- B-,” he stumbles clumsily over his words as you pull him away and into the hallway outside of the gym. The second the doors close, you deflate entirely. Blood rushes to your face, and you allow yourself to fall to your knees tiredly. You can hear your heartbeat pulsating in your ears. Shoving your burning face into your hands, you cry out an apology.

“Oh my God! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry. Oh my God, I can’t believe I did that. I’m sorry! I’m so sorry-“

”Babe?”

Removing your face from your hands, you stare up at Kageyama. His face seems even darker than before as he stares blankly down the hall. One hand gently cups the cheek you kissed.

”What?” You breathe squeakily.

Slowly, his gaze lowers to your sunken form. He mumbles something before coughing awkwardly. For some reason, the way he looks at you makes your heart skip a beat. His hand falls delicately from his cheek to hover over his chest, as if to calm his heart. “Did you- did you call me..,” he pauses as if he were a child about to swear, “babe?”

You stare at him blankly. Was this all just now processing for him? This moment alone had lasted far too long for you; at least several years. Why is that the only thing he’s questioning? In your opinion, there were plenty of questionable things you had achieved in the past two minutes. Cupping your cheeks in your hands, you groan at the ground before looking back up at him. Looking him in his infuriatingly gorgeous eyes only burned your face more.

”Yes. Yes, I did,” you mumble. Slowly, he sits down in front of you. He stares at you, obviously in deep thought. His eyebrows furrow, but not in his usual scowl. Your heart feels like it’s going to beat out of your chest as his eyes burn into you. You aren’t sure what to expect. Maybe a bit of yelling, being called an idiot (but with a look in his eyes that tell you that’s not what he really thinks), or getting hit over the head with a surprising gentleness... Like he has for all your previous stupid choices.

”....Why?” He finishes lamely. You can only look at him for a moment. What were you supposed to tell him? Hell, you weren’t even sure why you took the specific route you did. You easily could have pulled him away by telling him Hinata needed him or something. You open and close your mouth like a fish, desperately trying to grasp onto a hook that is a proper answer.

Then, it all pours out of your mouth in the form of word vomit. You tell him every single detail to the point it was unnecessary in one long exhale. Taking a breath, you once again hide your face. “So, yeah. It was their idea.”

”Oh...” He sounds almost disappointed with your answer. You hear him shuffle around as he rises from the floor, but refuse to look at him. This was all simply embarrassing. All you can do now is question why you were so awkward at all points in time.

Gently, a finger pokes your head once. When you don’t move, he pokes even softer a second time. When you finally look at him, he refuses to look you in the eye, but offers a hand to help you up. Gingerly, you take his hand. You try to distract yourself from how perfectly your palm fit into his.

He doesn’t let go of your hand when he reaches to open the gym doors before pausing. His fingers hover around the handle, shaking ever so slightly with poorly hidden anxiousness. Allowing his silky, raven hair to cover his face, he refuses to turn to you. He clears his throat to take away the growing silence, but also by himself a moment. “You don’t need to be sorry,” he says in such a quiet tone, you can just barely hear. Confused, you’re about to question him, but you’re stopped before you have the chance.

“I... I don’t mind it if you- If you call me... babe.”

Color blossoms across your face once more at his words. You are stricken into a wide-eyed silence. You couldn’t formulate a proper response. Temporarily paralyzed, you allow him to pull you into the gym. A love-struck grin gradually pulls its way onto your face.

His ears were red.

#haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#tobio kageyama #karasuno #karasuno vbc #kageyama tobio x reader #haikyuu kageyama #kageyama tobio #hq #hq!!#hq x reader #hq imagines #hq scenarios

151 notes · View notes

emmy-writes-sometimes · 4 years

Text

The One Where Chris Takes You Out

Chris takes you on a date after your abusive boyfriend breaks up with you, but by the end of the night, he has to face his feelings for you.

Chris was there for you when no one else was. Despite the thirteen year age gap, he was kind of your favorite person. He was the one who brought you home when you were drunk, the one who always hugged you when you needed it, the one who comforted you when your boyfriend was being an asshole. Ex boyfriend now, at least.

Chris knew the guy was emotionally abusive, and borderline physically. There had been nights when you’d cried to him on the phone saying he wouldn’t let you leave even though you wanted to, and every time you cried over him Chris could feel his heart breaking. You didn’t deserve that, any of it. So when you were sitting on his front porch, crying in the middle of a party, he went right to you. He sat down beside you and you jumped when he touched your back and pulled your hair away from the side of your face.

“What’s up, sweetheart? Why are you so upset?” He asked you, using the nickname he reserved for you and for you only.

“He finally broke up with me,” you replied in a low voice, sniffling as you took another sip of your beer. Chris promptly took the drink away from you and sighed.

“I can’t say I’m not happy. But I’m sorry. I know you loved him as much as you could.”

“I just… After all of it, I still loved him. Or still do. All he did was hurt me but I fell in love with him and I don’t know why. I don’t know why I let him do that to me for so fucking long. I’m so fucked up that I feel like he’s the only person who could ever love me.” The words were tumbling out of your mouth before you could stop them, and Chris just listened as you babbled to him.

“I don’t know, either. But he’s not gonna hurt you or play with you any more.” Chris moved his hand from your back and intertwined your fingers together in solidarity as you leaned your head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. Are you gonna be okay for the night?”

“I don’t know.” Your leg was shaking. “I don’t want to go home.”

“Then don’t. Stay here for the night. I’ll change the sheets in the guest room and you can go up whenever.” It wasn’t the first time you’d stayed with him after a bad night, but he hoped it would be the last time you stayed because of your ex. You nodded and thanked him, crying for a few more minutes before sucking it up and returning to the party.

You woke up the next morning and Chris was extra nice – actually nicer than your ex had ever been. He made you breakfast and he waited in the car while you got your things from your ex’s apartment and then took you back to your own, making sure it was okay to leave you. You spent that night on your own and arrived on set the next morning looking better than he’d ever seen you.

“What are you doing for dinner tonight?” He asked you as you helped set up another shot. It was the second movie you’d worked on together, but it was the millionth time he’d interrupted you to ask you what you were doing.

“Probably making pasta and crying to myself, why?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Because I had an idea.”

“Oh, not one of those.” He rolled his eyes.

“Not like that. Your ex. He was an ass. And I don’t think you’ve ever gone on a date with him as long as I’ve known you.”

“So?”

“So I want to take you out. If you’ll let me.” You laughed.

“You’re really going to waste your night on me?”

“I’m not wasting my night if I show my best friend how she should be treated.”

“Fine.”

“I’ll pick you up at seven. Wear something cute.” You laughed as he left, bounding away like a golden retriever. You finished the few scenes you needed to finish and then went home to get ready to go out with Chris. All he said was seven and wear something cute – not what kind of attire or where you were going, so you went with a mini dress and hoped that was what he meant. You did your makeup and your hair, finally glad you had an excuse to – your ex told you that you looked fake when you did it, so you almost never did unless he wasn’t going to be around. It made you happy, so you did it.

Chris showed up at your apartment at exactly seven o’clock, waving at you through the front window. You rolled your eyes but smiled when you saw that he’d brought you flowers. This man had really gone out of his way to buy you flowers. You opened the door and hugged him.

“You bought me flowers?” You asked as you invited him inside to put them in some water. “Chris, you really didn’t have to.”

“I figured it’s been a little while since you’ve had flowers in here, that’s all.” You put the bouquet in a pitcher, since you didn’t own a vase, because you were 24 and you’d never been given flowers before. He led you out to his car and opened the door for you, waiting until you were in, and then he shut it behind you.

“You are such a gentleman,” you remarked as he got in on his side, turning the car on. He was listening to a playlist the two of you had made before a road trip for filming last year and you smiled. His CarPlay said Y/N’s playlist, and he turned it up when he saw that you noticed. You mostly talked about the day while he was driving, until he pulled into your favorite restaurant. One you almost never went to because it required reservations and getting your ex to go with you was a pain in the ass.

“You made reservations?” He grinned.

“I know it’s your favorite place. I had to pull the movie star card to get in tonight, so don’t hate me.” He opened the door again for you and let you out, taking you inside. It was funny – you were at a fancy place and the both of you still got the same beers that you always did. Most of the time when you went out it was to a dive bar after work, but now he was raising the bar. Your ex would never.

“You seriously didn’t have to do this,” you said as you took out a piece of bread and dipped it in the oil. He grinned.

“I wanted to make you happy.”

“It worked.” You started talking about another project he was working on, and then he started telling you stupid stories about his childhood. You were trying not to think about how charming and kind and sweet he was being. You tried not to think about how your view of him was shifting. You were past friendship with him, at least mentally. This was something you’d never done with him before, and you realized that you wanted to do it every day if you could. He was just so happy when you were around, and you didn’t know if it was because of you or if it was that he was just happy to be there. You certainly were.

“I saw an Italian Ice place down the street if you wanna go?” Chris offered as he signed the check. You’d insisted on paying for some of the food, but he had refused.

“Sure.” You were smiling from ear to ear when he put his hand on your back and walked you down the street, not moving his hand, not checking his phone, not doing anything to distract from you. No one had paid attention to you like that in a long time. Especially not your ex. Your ex never even listened to what you were saying.

He paid for the ice and the two of you walked across the street to look at the river that ran right through downtown, where tourist boats were still passing by even though it was long past the famous sunset. You looked over at him as he laughed, thinking about how warm the sound made you. It made you feel like you were home, and you realized you were in too deep now. You liked him. Actually liked him. And it had taken all night to figure that out, but you did. He gave your stomach butterflies and he made your smile feel so real that your cheeks hurt when you stopped. He was like the sunshine that would beat down on you in the car through your windshield – warm and absolutely unrelenting.

“You done?” He asked you when your cup was empty. You nodded and he took it from you and threw away his own with it. He walked back over to you and you started the walk back to his car. You didn’t want the night to end. You hadn’t felt this good in such a long time and you wanted to hold onto it as long as you could so you offered for him to come in and watch a movie with you, since it was still kind of early and it was a Friday, so you didn’t have to be on set early. He agreed and you cracked open a couple of beers and sat down on your couch. You went to change into shorts and a t-shirt, just because you wanted to put your feet up.

“Thank you for tonight,” you said to him, elbowing him a little to get his attention as he scrolled through Netflix. “It means a lot that someone did that for me. Especially you.” He beamed, and in the dim lighting you could see him blush a little bit. His ear turned red, too.

“You deserve it. After he put you through all of that, you need a little love. And I’m happy I could give that to you.” You took his arm and leaned your head on it, closing your eyes. He moved his head and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “Can I tell you something?”

“Always.” He sighed.

“I think, for a while, at least, I’ve had real feelings for you. And I know you might think that’s weird which is why I haven’t brought it up before, and you’ll always be my best friend and you don’t ever have to think anything different, but…”

“I think I have real feelings for you, too,” you interrupted. “I just wasn’t sure you would feel the same.” He smiled and put his arms around you, relaxing his back on the couch. “And seeing how you treat me… It’s so much more than I thought I deserved.” He took in a deep breath.

“You deserve the world, sweetheart. And I’ll give it to you if you’ll let me.” You nodded.

“That sounds nice.”

“Consider this our first date, then.”

“Fine by me.” He picked a movie and the two of you sat back, a blanket over you, and you fell asleep against him as the movie played, feeling safer with him than you ever did with your ex.

A/N: I am literally so soft for this idea so I hope you like it as much as I do because omg! Thank you anon!

Taglist (if you’d like to be added, let me know!): @an-adventureland, @firstangeldragonranch, @ssebstann, @winterreader-nowwriter, @eviemarvel

#chris evans imagine #chris evans fluff #chris evans x reader

96 notes · View notes

adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy · 4 years

Note

just saw a Christmas card at the shops that said: “I want to be the reason Santa puts you on the naughty list” and am I wrong in imagining demon!Harry giving that card to angel!y/n?

“I got you something.”

The sound of a grocery bag thudding hollowly against the marble countertop of the kitchen pulls Y/N’s attention away from the kettle heating up milk on the stove.

She’s in the middle of making hot chocolate for the second time today; she’d acquired quite the taste for it as the holidays draw closer. Her new craving is actually one of the reasons Harry had gone to the store today— she had run out of marshmallows to top her favorite seasonal drink.

He didn’t mind going, especially when Y/N had come to him while he was watching a supernatural documentary on the couch, approaching him in such a timid, guilty manner while holding the empty plastic bag to her chest and giving him a small sheepish smile. “We ran out of marshmallows.”

Harry had glanced down at the sullen, deflated bag and then back up at Y/N, lips twitching with endeared entertainment. “I think you mean you ran out of marshmallows ‘cause I’ve barely touched the stash.”

She had given him a pointed scowl, though she knew he was right. The amount of hot chocolate she’d been indulging lately was getting to be borderline embarrassing. “Will you just pick up more, please?”

Harry had beckoned her forward with his forefinger, patting the armrest of the sofa as a symbol for her to sit. As soon as she’d settled into the spot, he’d wrapped his arms around her tummy and yanked her down into his lap in a flurry of clear plastic and wild hair. She laid with her back against his thighs and her legs hooked over the side of the sofa, laughing breathlessly due to the random whirlwind. He’d placed a gentle kiss between her eyebrows, breathing in the sweet scent of her chamomile and mandarin shampoo. “Why don’t you just put it on your Christmas list to Santa?”

“I think my drink will be cold by then.” She had quipped back, tilting her head with a deadpan tone, giving him an amused scoff.

He jutted out his bottom lip into an exaggerated pout. “Tough luck then, huh?”

Leave it to Harry to be a little shit over the slightest things.

“Pleaseeeeee?”

Harry had pursed his lips, head falling backwards against the backrest, humming thoughtfully in the back of his throat as if mulling over the request.

Y/N had reached up and grabbed him by his t-shirt collar, pulling his head forward once again and down to her level, kissing the faint curve of one of his dimples. In return, it had pinched deeper into his cheek, his mouth jolting into a soft smirk.

“Pretty please?”

“How can I say no when you ask so nicely?”

He had to restock some toiletries anyways.

Harry had treaded through the superstore leisurely, wandering through the aisles aimlessly and taking his time in choosing what shaving cream to get and searching for a new deodorant scent.

He’d swung by the market section, picking up two packs of mini marshmallows instead of one, knowing Y/N would be extra grateful. He’d thrown in a bag of Texas style sliced bread for his famous French toast, along with a twelve pack of ginger ale and some white cheddar puffs to snack on later while watching Chopped.

He never thought he’d ever be doing something as domestic and mundane as going to the store solely for the purpose of buying his girlfriend marshmallows— he never thought he’d have another girlfriend in general. It just hadn’t seemed in the cards for him at the time and the way Y/N just crashed into his life and completely stripped him of the brooding, deflective, unattached shell he’d built over himself for centuries was astonishing. And if he’s being honest, it was almost disgusting how soft he’d gotten since, considering his romantic side hadn’t flared up in decades.

Harry had grown fond of it, though. The wholesomeness of simple tasks like this sat at the pit of his stomach in the form of a warm glow, putting an extra jump in his heels and a goofy, lovesick grin across the edges of his lips, exactly like the ones in those stupid romance movies he used to take the piss out of.

The old lady hobbling down the bread aisle probably thought he was fucking mad— no sane person just smiles at the smudged concrete ground in the middle of a supermarket for no apparent reason.

As he’d made his way towards the self check-out kiosks, the most obnoxiously sappy idea yet struck him like a punch to the gut, slamming the breaks on his steps.

The greeting card corridor.

He found the perfect one barely five feet into the aisle. It had a pastel green background that was strewn with laminated glitter. Off to the left of the card was the art: a set of bright red lace lingerie, crumpled as if it were sitting on the floor with a Santa hat strewn carelessly next to it, insinuating that whoever had donned the attire had gotten it off in a hastily manner. The doodle of the clothing had actual lace fabric overlaid on top of the drawing and the hat even had a miniature fuzzy poof ball at the end. The words were shifted more towards the right of the cover, scrawled right beside the image in big, loopy white cursive: I want to be the reason Santa puts you on the naughty list.

The font for naughty list was different— instead of the pretty, festive letters, it looks as if it were written on the surface with red lipstick that had been smeared down the bottom of the card, a small kiss print decorating the space beside the phrase, acting as punctuation.

It was golden and it gave Harry a palpable reason to wear that stupid grin on his face.

He’d jetted home, excitement sizzling his fingertips and causing them to tighten against the leather of his steering wheel.

The steps up to the condo were taken two at a time, the elevator much too slow for his taste and he’d learned not to just flash in and out of public spaces anymore because it could result in a ruckus amongst the humans, which is publicity Lucifer really didn’t want to deal with.

That brings him to where he is now, plopping the bags off his wrists onto the marble kitchen counter, startling a robe-clad Y/N from her spot before the stovetop.

“I got you something.”

His girlfriend drifts over to the kitchen island, leaning forward on her tiptoes to bend over the edge of the surface, taking a curious peek into the grocery bags. Her voice comes out soft and childishly hopeful. “Marshmallows?”

Harry can’t resist the bubbly chuckle that her adorably excited aura draws. “Yeah, I got the marshmallows, don’t worry. But I also got you something else…and you should be grateful for it considering you’re a thief.”

He reaches forward and gently takes the collar of her lavender Sherpa robe between his index and middle finger— which is actually his lavender Sherpa robe that he treasures very fucking much— and gives it a signifying tug.

Y/N tilts her chin down to get a glimpse of what he’s going on about and then bashful recognition washes down her face in the form of pursed lips and a blithe glint in her eyes. “Sorry, mine’s in the wash.”

Harry begins rummaging through the groceries, moving his sensitive skin shaving cream and Old Spice deodorant out of the way with the back of his hands, retrieving the two bags of marshmallows and sliding them across the counter.

He suddenly kinks a single eyebrow up, her comment plucking a memory string in the back of his mind. “Was it the one you were wearing two nights ago?”

He can see her bite into the inside of her cheek, a soft blue glow just barely illuminating the ring around her irises as she nods her head wordlessly, gaze darting down to the treats to keep them from going into full headlights mode.

Harry leans forward onto the marble stretch, balancing on his elbows, chin propped on the palm of his left hand as the other slowly fishes the greeting card out, toying the pad of his thumb at one of the corners. He’s too amused to interrupt her fidgeting by giving it to her so he’ll hold out for a bit.

His voice comes out low and teasing through a cocky simper, eyes hooded arrogantly. “Was it the one you were wearing when you jerked me off on the couch?”

It’s like he can flip her on like a switch, a milky white light casting across the high points of her cheeks, originating from her irises. She blinks rapidly, willing it to simmer down, glaring up at him from under her lashes with sharp annoyance.

Harry taps at his upper lip with the pads of his digits, Cupid’s Bow curling as his grin widens, the back of his throat resonating with a hummed chortle. The pearl necklace he’d recently bought sits atop his collarbones delicately, gleaming mockingly under the bright lights of the kitchen, rising and falling with his deep, easy breaths. He worries the right corner of his mouth with his top teeth, jaw clenching to keep in a full-bellied laugh. His lashes slowly dust the crests of his cheekbones with a seductive energy, a faint moan running along the undercurrent of his words, giving his voice a sultry twang.

“Was it the one you were wearing when you undid the tie of my flannel pants, pushed them down my hips just enough to get my cock out, and then proceeded to tug me off while kissing up my throat, whispering on about how much you love it when I moan your name?”

Y/N swallows thickly and she’d failed to notice that she was gripping the bag of marshmallows to her stomach, thankful that she was opposite to him over the counter or else he’d get a view of her slightly buckling knees.

She abruptly tries to defuse the atmosphere of the room by clearing her throat loudly and switching topics. “Thanks for going to get these for—”

Harry isn’t having it, interrupting halfway through her attempt.

“Was it the one you were wearing when you were swallowing down the little whimpers escaping my mouth and begging me to cum for you? The one I got jizz all over when you tucked my hair behind my ear, pressed your warm lips to it and mumbled, ‘Want it so bad, Harry, please. I love how pretty you look when I make you feel good.’”

A loud popping sound punctures the tension toiling in the air, a shocked yelp accompanying the sound on behalf of Y/N.

Their intense stare-down breaks to zero in on where the noise had stemmed— the bag pressed against Y/N’s navel. She had gripped it so tight it had burst open, spewing a few marshmallows across the coffee- and caramel-colored marbled counter.

The blank look of remorsed surprise on Y/N’s features is what finally forces Harry to release the rib-splitting laugh he had been pushing down.

Her head snaps up at him, eyes narrowing because this was his fault, after all.

He covers the lower half of his face with his hand to try and stifle the giggles, but to no avail. They continue to wriggle free between the cracks of his fingers.

Y/N sets down the bag carefully, making sure it’s positioned accordingly so nothing else rolls out. She mutters a colorful array of words under her breath as she collects the rouge marshmallows and Harry’s positive her choice of language would put her on parole in Heaven.

He lifts his chin from his palm and reaches forward, plucking one between his thumb and forefinger and popping it into his mouth, chewing dramatically to flex his jaw because he can see her taking quick peeks up at him as she cleans. “That was the robe you were talking about, though, right?”

She doesn’t look up, simply focusing on the task at hand, but her response carries the daggers her eyes would otherwise deliver. “Fuck off.”

Harry decides that this moment is as good as any to give her the card, mostly because he knows it’ll either push her buttons in deeper or make her drop the grump act.

He slides it across the smooth plain of the island into her line of sight. “Picked this up ‘cause it reminded me of you.”

Y/N squints at the card, taking in the message along with the risqué art. Her lips press into a thin line, her actions pausing as she hovers a marshmallow in her grasp above the little pile she’s made in her other hand. She blinks at the paper once, then again, and then her top lip twitches. He can immediately tell she’s trying to keep from smiling.

He feels his dimples whittle into place, a giddy burst of energy expanding in his chest now that he knows she liked it. He figured she would, but seeing it confirmed is much more fulfilling than he imagined.

“It’s no knife to the chest like Romeo and Juliet but I’d say it’s a lovely sentiment. Plus, I’m not really looking to die again. Not a fan.”

His comment is the last piece of the puzzle that sends her into a wave of fond laughter. “God, you’re an idiot.”

Harry returns her giggling with some of his boyish own, watching with pride as she places the stash of marshmallows back in the bag and then drags her fingers over the lace material glued onto the lingerie drawing, admiring it.

“It’s called modern romance, darling. Get with the times, it’s not three thousand BC anymore.”

The easy banter in his attitude causes her smile to grow a bit bigger; it’s easy to match.

“Such a nice message. We should frame it, honestly. Show off how much of a hopeless loverboy you are.”

Harry nods his head vigorously, rounding the corner of the counter until he’s standing in front of her, his fingers walking across the stone surface and she snorts at his silliness. His digits hike over the top of her’s, dropping flat to sift between them, feeling the light scratch of the perforated fabric as well as the sleekness of the laminated paper beneath it.

His eyes flit up from where their hands conjoin, brows shrugging temptingly. “I think we should listen to the card first, though. We can put it up after we go through with its suggestion.”

“Mm, I dunno…” Y/N squeezes his fingers sarcastically. “My hot chocolate’s about to be done and it’s been waiting much longer than you have.”

Harry’s jaw drops in an open-mouthed smirk, a sound of airy delight tickling his tongue at the crudeness of her vague joke. “Did…Did you just willingly make a blowie joke?”

Y/N scrunches her brows with fake confusion, cocking her head to the side slightly as if she doesn’t have a single clue at what he’s talking about. “I don’t know, did I?”

Harry snakes his free arm around her hips, flushing their bellies together as he fully coils his fingers around the hand he’d been playing with. “Oh, I think you did.”

He ducks down for a kiss, lips puckered and itching to caress her skin with his, only to be met with his girlfriend’s temple. She had turned away, biting along the inside of her bottom lip to maintain a cap on the little noises of glee threatening to overflow.

Harry sighs grandly, maneuvering his head to chase after her mouth, aiming for the jerking corner closest to him. She leans back a bit and swiftly jars her head to face the other side, condemning his target to be her left cheekbone instead.

He groans in mild frustration, shifting their bodies until she ends up pushed against the edge of the counter, the dip of spine bending back over the table. Her hands find their way to his shoulders, coasting up to rest her palms at both of the curves of his neck. She thumbs over the hollow at the center of his throat, eyes flirting with his in a taunting manner. “Doesn’t taste so good when it’s your own medicine, does it?”

“You’ve taken up being the pest in the relationship then, have you?” The hand tangled with her’s goes slack, finding itself cradling her jaw, thumb tapping at the center of her bottom lip ominously.

Y/N’s painfully aware of the way his forearm is flexing against the lower half of her back and she recognizes it’s in anticipation to lift her off her feet. Her toes curl in her pink socks and she goes a tad cross-eyed as his face draws closer. “No, that’s your job. I just thought I’d get on your nerves.”

“Why?”

“Just because.”

“That’s a bit bratty, don’t y’think?” The tip of his cold nose feathers along the bridge of her’s.

She draws her chin back, trying to keep their lips from meeting. “Maybe.”

Harry thrums thoughtfully deep in his chest and she can feel the vibrations transfer across her body, prickling along her cheeks and to the tips of her ears. “Well, you know what I do to brats, don’t you?”

Y/N is suddenly hoisted up off her footing and though she knew it was coming, she still reacts to it out of habit, arms fumbling messily around Harry’s shoulders to keep her from teetering.

It had been the result he was hoping for because now she’s so close their Cupid’s Bows are knocking and he keeps her suspended for a second— a measly task courtesy of his inhuman strength. Her thighs clench around his hips, feet dangling behind him as she works to keep from slipping down, well aware that her socks would likely betray her to the smooth flooring and deposit her on her bum.

The warm air of Harry’s low mumble makes the entire lower half of her face sting.

“Brats get it fucked out of them.”

Just then, at this energy-packed stand-still moment, the kettle goes off.

Y/N has never been more thankful.

She squirms in Harry’s arms and he doesn’t have a choice but to let her down, eyeing her with a condescendingly entertained gaze as she scrambles towards the stove to remove the shrieking kettle from its place.

He can’t help himself.

He extends his arm forward, swatting at her ass before she’s gotten far enough that he can’t reach her.

Y/N’s shriek is the same pitch as the kettle’s.

She gives him the stink eye over her shoulder as he retakes his previous position on the counter with his elbows, chin in hand, the edges of a shit-eating grin peeking through as he bites into the side of his index finger. “I want some, too.”

She rubs her backside slowly as she shifts the kettle from the heated stovetop to a cool one, opening up the cupboard and bringing out two black mugs. She carefully pours the warm milk into each one, mixing in a few tablespoons of powdered cocoa along with some sugar.

Y/N carries both over to the kitchen island, decorating the top of the mugs with a handful of marshmallows that begin to melt immediately. She pushes Harry’s towards him as she takes a sip of her own, still somewhat seething at him over the rim of her cup.

Harry’s focuses in on the beverage, a mischievous glint flashing his eyes pitch black as he mumbles a spell underneath his breath. “Incendo.”

The powdery white candy suddenly catches alight, the royal blue fire lapping along the circumference of the mug and charring the contents inside.

Y/N chokes on her cocoa, spluttering into a round of panicked coughing; she hadn’t expected to see their kitchenware burst into flames anytime soon.

Harry’s eyes flit back to their usual juniper green, another enchantment tinging the air. “Exstinguo.”

The fire goes out as quickly as it had ignited, leaving a very disheveled Y/N blinking dissociatively in its wake. Her sights then pin onto her boyfriend, irritation pinching her eyebrows together. “Was that really necessary?”

Harry shrugs nonchalantly, completely unbothered. “I like the smokey taste it leaves. Reminds me of s’mores.”

He brings the drink up to his mouth, blowing gently before tipping it back, feeling a soothing warmth wash down his neck and chest as it travels down his throat, the sweet, rich taste tingling his taste buds. An airy, appreciative purr rings from his chest. “S’good. Could use some bourbon, though.”

Y/N sets down her mug on the counter, still somewhat miffed, mostly because she knows he only did it to mess with her (probably as revenge for earlier). Both of her hands tighten around the ceramic surface, leeching its warmth into her body to help stifle the cold shot of adrenaline that had shot through her veins. She licks the marshmallow residue off her upper lip, tone passive. “Maybe a little warning next time? Would like a heads up before you try and melt one of our bowls.”

“That takes all the fun away! It was supposed to be spontaneous.” Harry pauses, catching onto his unintended pun and grinning like an idiot. “Literally.”

#demon!harry

615 notes · View notes

ellewritesathing · 4 years

Text

Faking It - IV

Summary: You’d done plenty of dumb things in your life, but the dumbest had to be picking Greendale’s latest bad-boy to pretend to be your boyfriend.

Masterlist Prev. | Part 4

Word-count: 3.4k+

A/N: this gif has nothing to do with this part but i thought it was cute and couldn’t find a kitchen gif that fit. hope you enjoy the drama lmao 💕

Of all the ways you saw taking Caliban’s hand the day you met, you hadn’t anticipated the very obvious outcome: that you’d develop feelings for him. Actual, real, not fake feelings. But it’s not like it was your fault - no, you blamed the blonde asshole himself. They just didn’t make guys like him in Greendale, so he completely blindsided you by being … well, himself.

He was intimidating enough that other guys left you alone, and - even though plenty of people found him as charming as you did - he made it very clear that he had no interest in any of them. He was infuriatingly good at everything he did and he looked good while doing it. He laughed at all your shitty jokes and actually listened to you when you spoke. How the hell were you supposed to not be attracted to someone who would sit with you while you worked on your art projects and quote poetry in an offhand effort to distract you?

Who the hell could even quote poetry in real life?

Not you. Not anyone that you’d ever met.

Caliban was just different in all the ways that made your heart race.

The fact that your friends liked him didn’t hurt either. Harvey still rolled his eyes whenever Caliban showed up or made the others laugh, but his anger must have subsided at least a little because you’d caught them joking around between practices. Theo loved Caliban; the two of them had inside jokes, knew each other’s lunch orders, and partnered up for chemistry. Roz would read a book and annotate it before handing it off to Caliban to read, and she liked that Caliban made you smile. Sabrina liked having someone to do dumb and borderline illegal stuff with. They liked him, and now you liked them. The fuckers.

“Are you listening to a word I’m saying?” Sabrina asked, nudging you with her elbow. “You’ve been staring at the baseball field for like five minutes.”

“Of course I’m listening,” you lied. You sat up straighter and tugged your clothing back into place. “Quite frankly, I’m insulted you’d think that I wasn’t paying attention to The Great Kinkle Family Reunion.”

Sabrina tilted her head and smiled politely, that’s how you knew trouble was coming. “Then tell me what you should do when Uncle Tristan starts talking about horses,” she said.

“Uh …”

“Exactly.” Sabrina laughed and looked down at the field where Harvey, Theo, Caliban, and the rest of the team were running laps. “I’ve been to every family get together since I met Harvey, and they all end horribly. Caliban’s mom was really sweet to host one, but she’s in way over her head. Have you met her, by the way?”

“No,” you said. You couldn’t tell if that was weird or not. Were fake girlfriends supposed to meet their partner’s mothers? “But I’m kinda surprised she’s doing this given everything I’ve heard about her and the Kinkles. They weren’t exactly the most supportive of her.”

“Yeah, I don’t know why Harvey’s such a sweetheart when the rest of the family is … It was probably Tommy, now that I think about it,” Sabrina said. She shook her head and turned to look at you before taking your hands in hers. “I just wanted to check-in and make sure you’re ready for this.”

“Brina, I can handle this.” You squeezed her hands reassuringly. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve got a pretty mean right hook. Ask Colin Anderson. If there’s a fight, I’ll be golden.”

Sabrina laughed and let go of your hands. “I’m trying to prevent that fight, but good to know.”

You laughed and bumped her with your arm. “Looks like practice is letting out. You wanna head down?”

“Nah.” Sabrina put on her brightest smile and waved down to a very tired-looking Harvey. “Let them de-stink first.”

---

After two weeks of prep and cover stories, the day of the Great Reunion was here. You’d woken up disgustingly early in order to get yourself together and drive over to Caliban’s to help them set everything up.

You weren’t sure what you expected their house to look like, but clashed with the black BMW parked in the garage. It was a sweet, two-story house with a wraparound porch and balloons in the front yard. The house was painted a soft sunshine shade of yellow and had rocking chairs, hanging plants, and rose beds in the front. It was the picture-perfect house for anyone other than Caliban, but it still fit.

Different.

Gathering up your nerve and the rest of your belongings, you made your way to the door and pressed the doorbell. The tiny pothos plant felt as awkward as you did while it sat in your hands and waited for someone to open the door.

Thank God it was Caliban and not his mom.

He smiled amusedly at your plant before looking up at you. “Is that for me?”

“I know it’s a lame gift but I didn’t know if your mom was allergic to cut flowers and I’m not old enough to buy her wine,” you said in a rush. You frowned slightly and tilted your head. “Well, not legally at least.”

Caliban laughed and reached out to take one of your hands and lead you inside. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

You didn’t know what else to say as Caliban led you to the kitchen. The house was as much of a surprise inside as it was outside, and it smelled like freshly baked bread. It was colorful and covered in old photos. He seemed very at home here and lighter than you’d ever seen him elsewhere. No, not lighter. Happier.

“Wait.” You stopped dead and let go of Caliban to reach out for a photo of the cutest little boy with missing front teeth and a mess of blonde curls around his dirty face. “Is this you?” You couldn’t help the laugh that came out when Caliban looked pained at your discovery. “Aw, Abercrombie, you were so cute! What’s on your face?”

Caliban sighed and took the photo out of your hand, looking embarrassed for probably the first time in his life. “I was seven years old and I liked eating chocolate. Is that a problem?”

“Oh, no, no, no,” a woman said as she rounded a corner and laughed. She had the most beautiful long, brown hair and kind eyes. “You didn’t just like chocolate. If you came anywhere near it, you used to eat yourself into a sugar coma. I couldn’t bake anything around you without you eating the batter before it even got into the oven.”

She laughed and ruffled Caliban’s hair before smiling at you. You didn’t know anyone could ruffle his hair without losing a hand.

“You must be the lovely new girlfriend I’ve heard so much about,” she said. “I’m Isobel. Is that for me?”

Isobel pointed at your little pot plant and jolted you back to life. “Uh, yeah,” you said and held the plant out to her. Her hands were warm as she took the plant from you. “I wasn’t too sure what to bring but I didn’t want to come empty-handed.”

“Oh, not at all. This little guy is perfect!” Isobel lifted up the plant to look at it. “I’m going to give him some water and put him in the front. Do you guys want to get settled in the kitchen so long?”

“Of course,” Caliban said with a gentle smile. His mom gave him another playful bump and disappeared into some other part of the house while Caliban held a hand out to you. “Shall we?”

“Who are you?” you teased with wide eyes as you took his hand in yours.

You followed him into the kitchen and took a seat at the breakfast bar. They were here for maybe a month and their house already felt like more of a home than yours ever did. How they afforded it all, you had no idea, but Caliban never spoke about his birth dad and you didn’t want to push. All you knew was he gave Caliban his blonde hair and bone structure, nothing more and nothing less.

You were snapped out of your thoughts by the sight of Caliban in a sunflower printed apron. Clearly, your efforts to contain your amusement weren’t nearly as stellar as you thought they were because Caliban raised an eyebrow at you over all the baking supplies on the counter.

“What’s the matter?” he asked.

“I didn’t peg you for an apron guy is all,” you said with a small shrug, doing your best to sound nonchalant and not totally, completely chalant.

“I don’t like getting my clothes dirty,” Caliban said defensively. “Without an apron, anything can stain your shirt.”

“I think I’ll take the risk,” you said as you tapped the counter. “I trust myself and don’t think anyone’s going to splatter batter on me.”

“Batter, maybe not …” Caliban tilted his head to the side. “But flour?”

“Flour?”

Before you had the chance to ask what he meant, Caliban threw a handful of flour at you. He laughed at how shocked you were and you took that opportunity to reach across the counter and throw some flour at him. Soon enough the two of you were running around the kitchen, covered in flour, and laughing until your sides hurt.

Caliban wrapped his arms around you and scooped you up, ignoring your pleading and cries that were cut short by laughter. You were still mid-air with Caliban’s face close to your own when Isobel came back.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Isobel put her hands out to get your attention. “We have guests coming in an hour and the two of you are making a mess in my kitchen.”

Caliban set you down, but the two of you were still tangled up and filthy. You didn’t know what to say to the woman you’d met fifteen minutes ago and whose kitchen you’d subsequently ruined.

Isobel laughed and shook her head. “It’s my own fault for leaving this one unsupervised,” she teased, pointing a finger at Caliban as she made her way around to start cleaning up. “Go clean yourselves up. Come back when you don’t like friendly ghosts.”

Luckily for you, flour was relatively easy to get out because you weren’t wearing dark colors for once. It took a while to get it out of your hair and make it look presentable, but it was hard to be too mad at the mess when it was such a fun time making it.

When you got back downstairs, you could hear people laughing and talking in the kitchen. It was still too early for guests but it was clear that it wasn’t just Caliban and his mom.

You were right. You rounded the corner to find Caliban freshly-changed, his mom kneading some dough, and a very pretty redhead with big doe-eyes all laughing at some inside joke. It made you feel painfully other.

“Oh, Luce,” Isobel said when she noticed you come in, waving you over. “You have to meet Caliban’s girlfriend. She’s a gem.”

Luce ... As in Lucy? Lucy from California? Harvey’s first crush? Lucy.

This was going to end badly.

Lucy tilted her head as she turned to look at you. You could see the gears turning in her head as she looked you over. “Girlfriend?” she asked with a friendly (but fake) smile.

“The one and only,” you said with an over-confident smile as you walked over and interlaced your hand with Caliban’s. You wrapped your other hand around his arm, just like the first day you met. You introduced yourself with a friendly yet fake smile of your own.

“You guys moved up here a few months ago and Caliban’s completely forgotten about me,” Lucy teased to Isobel. She moved some hair out of her face and looked over at you again. “He used to tell me everything. We were like this.” She crossed her index and middle finger over each other with a smile.

You’d have liked to show her one of your fingers.

But you didn’t. All you did was smile and make some polite conversation while not letting go of Caliban. You weren’t sure why you were being so defensive. It’s not like you and Caliban were actually dating, but you didn’t like Lucy. Not only did she break Harvey’s heart and cause all the damage you’d spent the better part of two months fixing, but she also just rubbed you the wrong way.

“Okay, not to ruin all the fun,” Isobel said after a while. “But guests should be coming soon. Why don’t you kids make sure everything is set up in the back and keep an ear out for any early birds?”

“Sure thing,” Lucy said, hopping off her seat and leading the way to the backyard.

You started following when Caliban caught your arm and said something to his mom about getting more supplies from the garage. He didn’t say anything else as he led the way and neither did you, but that was mostly just because you were being petty.

Caliban led you to the middle of the garage and tugged on the old light to illuminate the dusty room around you. He lifted your intertwined hands and folded them over each other as he thought about what he was going to say.

You couldn’t wait that long.

“So, what’s the deal with you and Lucy? And I want the truth this time.”

Caliban laughed and shook his head as he looked up at the old light above you. He took a breath before saying, “Lucinda’s my best friend, pretty much my only friend before yours so kindly took me in. If I’d known she’d be here today, I would have said something.”

“Wait, you were best friends with the girl who broke up your family?” you asked.

“She apologized,” Caliban said. “And, besides, you’re friends with Harvey.”

“Harvey’s never made out with me,” you said, untangling your hand from his so that you could cross your arms over your chest.

Caliban narrowed his eyes slightly as he took in your newly defensive stance, and then he laughed without saying anything else. He looked amused when he met your scowling gaze again. “I can’t believe you’re jealous,” he said. “Don’t misunderstand me, it’s incredibly attractive but-”

“I am not jealous,” you said. “I couldn’t care less.”

“I’m sure,” Caliban said with a sarcastic smile. He rolled his eyes as he stepped closer and cupped your face before leaning down to be millimeters away from your face. “Forget about her, alright? I assure you, you’re the only fake girlfriend for me.”

Before you had the chance to say something witty in return, the garage door flew open and the devil herself stood in the opening.

“There you are!” Lucy said. “Cal, I need help with these streamers. I’m way too short to get them where your mom wants them.”

“I’ll be right out,” Caliban said without taking his eyes off yours. He pressed a kiss to your forehead before taking a step back and leaving you in the dusty and dim garage.

You shot a warning text to Harvey about Lucy before you went out to help the others. Though he never answered, he must have got it because he was surprisingly okay when he and Sabrina got there. You and Sabrina shared a look when Lucy got a bit handsy with her hello, but neither of you said anything.

That’s how most of the get together went; you and Sabrina sharing secret, sarcastic looks and staying out of trouble. Well, mostly. You still didn’t know what to say when Uncle Tristan started talking about horses, but Caliban came to your rescue and the rest was smooth sailing.

Until an hour went by when you couldn’t find Caliban anywhere. You asked around but no one had seen him, but his mom pointed you in the direction of his room. Isobel held onto your arm before you could leave.

“Um, I’m sorry if this seems a bit strange but I …” Isobel smiled and looked down at her hand on your arm before letting go, clearly trying to respect whatever boundaries you may have had. “Caliban’s been a lot happier since we moved here and I think that has to do with you. I just wanted to say thank you.”

“Oh, uh- It’s nothing. I’m just a girl and I’m sure Caliban’s brought a few of us around by now with cheekbones like that,” you said with a smile.

“No, Caliban’s never brought anyone home before,” Isobel said, looking like she was trying to remember anything to the contrary. “Sorry, hun, I’ve gotta go. Jan’s calling me over. Good luck with the search!”

“Thanks,” you said quietly.

Isobel disappeared into the sea of Kinkles and you made your way to Caliban’s room. You took your time going up the stairs, looking at all the photos on the wall as you did. It was nice to see that Caliban was just as angry and angsty now as he was at 14 years old.

It was strangely quiet upstairs compared to the rest of the house and the party in the backyard. Quite enough that you could hear someone giggling upstairs, someone decidedly not Caliban.

Roz would have told you to face it head-on and not to sneak around like a creep. Thankfully, Roz wasn’t there to say anything.

You tiptoed as casually as you could to Caliban’s room. The room felt more like the Caliban you knew than the rest of the house did: big windows without any blinds, a tornado of books and sketches on every surface available, and a very pretty redhead making out with him.

“She kissed you, huh?” you asked, echoing the story of when they were younger before turning on your heel and slamming the door behind you. Your heart ached annoyingly when Caliban called out for you as he followed behind you, but your brain told it to suck it up until you were out of the house.

By sheer force of will, you made it back downstairs without turning around, but then Caliban managed to get a hold of your hand and spin you around to face him.

“Would you please let me explain?” Caliban asked.

“No,” you said, pulling your hand away from him. “Look, it’s not like you have anything to explain anyway, okay?” He reached out for you again and you took a step back so you wouldn’t be confused by his touch. “You and me? We were a fake relationship. Maybe this is the universe saying it’s time it came to a real end.”

You knew what he’d say if you weren’t arguing. He’d ask you, with that annoying smile of his, when you started letting the universe tell you what to do. Or he’d make some comment about the universe being a bastard. But all he did now was set his jaw and look down at his hand.

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying this is it,” you said. “Goodbye, Caliban.”

You weren’t sure why you expected him to say something else, to fight for your fake relationship, but all that expectation just led to disappointment. Caliban flexed his hand but didn’t say anything else as you pushed past him to get your stuff from the kitchen so you could rush to your car to cry.

Harvey was tapping on your window just before you started the car. Curse your five-minute breakdown for being long enough for him to notice you were gone.

“What?” you asked as you rolled down the window.

“Are you okay?” Harvey asked. “You ran out of there so fast-”

“You were right, okay?” You put your car in reverse before looking back up at him. “Caliban’s not a good guy and you warned me. Will you just let me go so I can cry somewhere that’s not here?”

“Hey, you know that’s not what I meant,” Harvey said softly, reaching through the window for you. “Let me come with-”

“No. Go have fun with your family. I need to get out of here.”

“But-”

“Harvey, move or I will drive over your foot.”

You didn’t think he was going to do it, but Harvey took a very reluctant step back and put his hands up in surrender. He wasn’t going to fight for you either, not that you’d given him much of a chance. Harvey was stood there, watching you drive away until he disappeared in your rearview mirror.

Music blared in an attempt to drown out your thoughts, but there was one you couldn’t get rid of no matter how hard you tried. Sabrina was right - every Kinkle family get together ended horribly.

Tagged: @miss--moose @marrypuffsstuff @harryscarolinaa @igorsbby @foji2000 @mschfavngz @artaxerxesthegreat @thxmagic @strawberriesandknives @xealia @hotmessindisguise @reheated-coffee @shelby-x @perseny-blog @millie-753 @luneerius @shizzybarnaclee @lettherebelovex @throughparisallthroughrome @ietss @thebookwormlife @mechanicalanimalz @mariamermaid @nqbmf @drrramaaaqweeen

#faking it #caliban #caliban imagine #caliban x reader #caos #chilling adventures of sabrina

145 notes · View notes