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rafeandonlyrafe · 3 months

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baby shoes

words: 2.3k

warnings: 18+ only!, smut, best friend!rafe, childhood friends to lovers, pretty fluffy :), p in v sex, unprotected smut, breeding!, pregnancy kink?, no actual sex while pregnant but lots of like. bump descriptions?

rafe rolls his eyes as you let out a squeal, already knowing what is happening.

“oh. my. god.” you pick up the baby shoes off the shelf, a pair of sparkly flats with the cutest flower straps you've ever seen. “rafe, they're so tiny!”

you hold them up for him to look at as if he's never seen baby shoes before, despite you pointing them out to him every time you're out shopping together.

“yeah, real cute.” he says, keeping his voice completely monotone.

“rafe, don't be so sour.” you pout at him. your friendship is an unexpected one. started in kindergarten and has only grown closer since, your sweet nature in contrast to rafes hard exterior.

“y/n.” rafe sighs, taking the baby shoes from your hands as he sets them back on the shelf. “we look at baby shoes and onesies every time we go to target. i brought you here to buy you a pair of boots, let's go.”

rafe tries to usher you down the aisle. despite you also being a kook he refuses to let you (or, really, your parents credit card) pay for anything.

you nod and continue to the women's section when you cross by a pair of ugg boots made for toddlers and stop in your tracks. “raaaafe!” you coo.

look how cute this baby is rafey

“are you serious?” rafe questions reading your text message. “im laying right next to you.”

“too much work to roll over and show you.” you shrug, both scrolling on your phones, having just gotten back from a long day. so long rafe insisted you slept at his because it was closer. only one block closer, but you didn't argue. rafes bed is also yours, and yours his. you've always shared, no need to change now just because you're older.

“that baby isn't even that cute.” rafe huffs out.

you turn over now, rolling onto your stomach to glare at him. “rafe cameron, you are such a dick!”

“oh, so you'll roll over to yell at me?” rafe questions, a smile on his face. usually he wouldn't take shit from anyone, but you're not just anyone to him.

“yes because you deserve it asshole. that baby is adorable.”

“yours would be way cuter.” rafe grins, knowing how flustered you get talking about having a child of your own.

“okay, true.”

“what the fuck is going on?” rafe questions, his mouth literally dropping as he walks in.

“oh my god!” you squeal. “you told me you were coming over at 2, you idiot!”

rafe looks at the time on your alarm clock. 1:55. rafe may have not knocked before letting himself in, but he figured it was fine.

“what are you wearing?”

“it's… it's a fake pregnancy belly. my friend carly who works with the school plays said they were getting rid of it bc it was getting old… and i asked to have it.” you shrug, your embarrassment melting away the longer you talk about it.

“why would you want that?” rafe questions.

“i just wanted to see what id look like.” you shrug, turning again to look at yourself in the mirror, running your hands over the tshirt stretching around the plastic material. “i think i look cute.”

rafes eyes are on the round swell of your belly. he thinks you look more than cute, he thinks you look so ravishing he wants to make that belly real right this second.

“gonna take a shower.” rafe makes a turn towards your bathroom before you can argue, saving himself by locking the door behind him.

“why are you in a mood?” rafe just entered your house but he can already tell from the look on your face that something has upset you.

“freaking kelsey is pregnant.” you spit her name out like it's an insult. she's been your sworn moral enemy ever since she “dated” rafe in the fourth grade and told him he had to choose between staying friends with you or dating her. he chose staying friends of course, but you've despised her anyways since.

“okay…” rafe waits for more reasoning to you being so upset.

“that should be me.” you whine, not ashamed as you throw a little tantrum, stomping your feet on the ground.

“it can be.” rafe shrugs.

“huh?” you question, plopping back on the couch behind you, waiting for rafe to join you for movie night.

“you're not a kid anymore, y/n. you're 21. have a baby if you want.” rafe simply states.

“i- who would i even have a baby with? im single.” you've been single a majority of your life. there were flings in high school, but no one that lasted.

what you don't know if rafe contributed heavily to those relationships ending. he had staked his claim on you, and no guy was worthy in his eyes.

“id help you raise a baby.” rafe says without really thinking, sitting down on the couch next to you, not flinching as you turn to place your feet on his lap, always wanting to stretch out and get comfortable.

“you would?”

“im with you all the time anyways.” rafe nods. “if you had a baby id basically be their dad anyways.”

“id want that.” you admit. “you're the only guy out there i trust enough to get me pregnant.” you're not really thinking about your words themselves as you press your fingers to your stomach, imagining it filled up with a baby, with rafes baby.

“alright, we gotta talk about something else.” rafe shifts on the couch, pushing your feet off his lap to turn himself slightly away from you.

“wait why?” you question, sitting forward.

“just… change the subject.” rafe takes a deep breath, trying to calm down the boner that is growing in his pants.

“no, tell me!” you move closer, which only makes rafe turn away more. “tell me, rafey!”

he's never kept anything from you, and shockingly you can't figure out why he's behaving like this now.

“jesus, stop!” rafe scooches away when you grab onto his arm, trying to get him to face you, to look at you.

“tell me!” you complain again.

“because im fucking hard okay!” rafe shouts, standing up from the couch. “it's getting me fucking hard thinking about getting you pregnant so change the fucking subject!”

you sit on the couch in shock, eyes wide open. you know you shouldn't, he's your best friend after all, but you find your eyes moving lower, and sure enough, the front of rafes pants and tented, cock pushing away from his body.

“i-i-” you stammer.

“you nothing. okay? we forget this happened. just stop talking about getting fucking pregnant and stop talking about me being the one to do it.”

“but i want it to be you.” you blink up at rafe, head suddenly clearing. you do want it or be rafe. he's the only one who should be waking up in the middle of the night with you when your baby cries. he's the one you want to experience every milestone with. he's the one you want filling you up over and over until your tummy starts to swell.

“we can't go back.” rafe says, his tone suddenly serious. “we can't go back to just friends.”

“i know.” it's all you need to say for rafe to surge forward, dropping his knees to the floor as he kisses you, mouth easily dominating yours. you let out a soft moan as his hands cup your jaw, keeping you close even though you press yourself into him, hands fisted in his shirt.

“let me have you.” rafe pants against your mouth. “i need you. let me fill you up.”

“yes.” you nod. “yes, please. take your clothes off.”

you don't care that you're in the middle of your living room, you immediately tug your shirt off over your head, bearing your breasts to him. rafe knew you never wore a bra when in your own home, but seeing your bare tits is still a shock.

he doesn't even take his shirt off despite you tugging at it, cupping your chest as he leans in, mouth wrapping around your nipple.

“oh my god!” you squeal, fisting your hands in rafes hair, holding him close to your body as his tongue flicks over your nipple, hardening it quickly.

“i… im sorry baby i need to get inside of you.” rafe feels crude, tugging at your shorts to pull them down your legs, tossing them away.

“i need you too.” there will be plenty of time now that you've admitted feelings for each other to take your time, to go slow and learn each other's bodies.

rafe stands up, looking down at you in just your underwear, eyes glassy with lust as he pulls his shirt off, followed by him tugging his pants down, finally getting your eyes off his face as your eyes move down. you reach forward, hand rubbing over rafes length, annoyed that the fabric of his underwear is not allowing you to see him properly.

“fuck, stop.” rafe takes a step back. “im supposed to cum in you. get you pregnant. you're gonna make me bust.”

you smile, flattered that your simple touch can cause him to almost lose it.

“where do you want me.” you whisper. you aren't a virgin but you certainly aren't as experienced as rafe. while you know he partakes in hookups at parties you don't attend, you were never interested in sleeping around just for the sake of sleeping around.

“just lay back, baby.” rafe let's out a huff as you turn from sitting on the couch to laying down, your breasts falling beautifully as you wait for him to make the next move. “let's get these off.” rafe pulls your underwear down, but you keep your legs together to hide yourself for a little longer.

rafe shucks his underwear off next, praying his throbbing erection doesn't cause him to cum the second he gets inside of you.

you let out a low moan just from the both of you being naked. “gonna kneel down. wrap your leg around me.” rafe helps position you, spreading your legs as his eyes take in your wet cunt, pretty and perfect as he wraps your knee around his hips as he sinks himself down, moving to drape his body over yours.

“ill go slow.” rafe says, hoping he can stay true to his word as he reaches down, running his cock briefly through your folds, obsessed with the way your expression changed into one of pure pleasure.

“okay, just at first.” you nod. you need slow to open you up, to stretch your walls to allow rafes size, but you dont want it to stay slow, needing to feel him pound into you, make a mess of your cunt.

rafe sinks in with a gasp as your tightness and warmth envelops him. “fuck.” he mutters out, eyes squeezing closed as he inserts himself until he’s fully buried inside you pussy.

“feels real good rafey.” you pout. “cant believe we didn’t do this sooner. could already have a baby by now.” “oh, im gonna give you plenty.” rafe bends down to kiss you, letting himself get lost in the kiss, focusing on your mouth against his to distract from his throbbing cock.

“move.” you gasp, starting to grind your hips. “move.”

its all rafe needs to start smashing his hips back and forth, rocking into you in a steady but fast motion, aiming every time to get his cock as deep inside of you as possible.

“yes, yes!” you squeal, hands gripping his shoulders. as good as rafe thrusting into you feels, you want his cum more than anything. you begin to squeeze your pussy around him every time he pulls out before thrusting back in, and you can tell from the way rafes mouth hangs open that he likes it.

“fuck, im already close, sorry.” rafe has never had a problem cumming too early with anyone else, but hes never been with you, his best friend who he’s been head over heels for since kindergarten, who is begging to have him put a baby in your womb.

“cum in me. please.” you don’t even care about your own orgasm. you don’t even want it, already feeling so overwhelmed from the way rafes cock swells inside of you.

your eyebrows raise when you realize what the warmth spreading inside of you is, never having let a man take you without a condom. you let out a moan to match rafes as he cums, flooding your insides as he grinds into you.

you wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him down onto you, not caring about the weight as you squeeze your cunt, milking any last drops out of him.

“oh my god, i’m gonna cry its so cute.” tears brim in your eyes as you look at your finished nursery, rafe having done the last of the decorations when you were napping, putting the final touches on.

“you're so cute.” he hums, wrapping his arms around you as he stands behind you, also looking over the room.

“thank you. its perfect.” you sniffle.

“you’re perfect.” rafe has been overwhelming you with compliments lately, wanting to make sure that you know he is still very much attracted to you with your pregnant belly. “and beautiful. and hot. and sexy.” “oh, stop it.” you roll your eyes with a giggle, turning to face rafe.

“it would be inappropriate to have sex in our babies nursery, wouldn’t it?” despite the baby not even being here yet, rafe looks around the former guest bedroom and realizes that it simply wouldn’t be right.

“you’re not getting me on the floor anyways.” you press your hands to your stomach. seven months along with rafes baby.

“probably for the best.” rafe places his hand on your back, leading you out of the nursery and towards your bed. “wanna eat you out on our bed anyways, mamas.”

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cinnamonest · 3 years

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Yandere Profile - Link (Legend of Zelda)

ABSOLUTELY YES. MY BOY. LOVE OF MY LIFE.

As some of you may know, today is the release date of Skyward Sword HD for Switch!! So I decided to release this one now in honor of that :3

NOTES:

I went towards the idea of a Princess!reader because that just opens the gate for sooooo much potential. I'm leaning heavily towards the ZeLink interactions in BoTW and Skyward Sword just because those games have the most interaction between the two.

Also! This is great bc it gives me the opportunity to explore an idea I've actually had a long time! I've always thought about how many opportunities there have been across the games for Link and Zelda to be kinda like "haha well seeya later" and just... bolt, run away from everything, abandon their roles and responsibilities and all that. Like, if OoT kid Link got her before Ganon did and ran, if SS Link just decided to get her on the bird and bolt before everything went down, if botw Link was just like haha what if we ran away from everything together... jk... unless...?

And final note, Link is a great pick for the very traditional yandere -- sweet and : ) but can snap into darker personas. I really liked writing this bc I tend to have more self centered yans and less of the "worships the ground you walk on" type of yans like I think Link would be, so it's a nice change.

As usual now the nsfw section is divided by a ---- line.

TWs: fem reader, heavily implied Zelda!reader, stalking, murder, very brief mentions of gore/dismemberment of rivals, manipulation, very brief suicide mention, themes of reincarnation (I’ve been told this can be triggering to some people so just in case)

TWs (nsfw section): noncon, somnophilia

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Severity Scale

Intelligence/Perceptiveness: 4 Brutality: 8.5 Physical capability: 8 Mental/emotional instability: 7 Restrictiveness: 6 Sexual sadism: 5 Stubbornness: 8

What are they generally like? Lucid, aware? Obsessive? How do they behave?

The primary trait of Link that any darling -- any person, really -- would notice is that he is, well, quiet. He has always been a man of few words, and really, he often doesn't know exactly what to say. On his own, at a first glance, he really does seem like a gentle, humble spirit, someone who blends into the background pretty well, who isn't particularly prideful or reckless or aggressive.

Which is why, to be honest, he might sort of evade the gaze of most people -- he doesn't stand out. You remember him as the boy that smiled at you now and then, it's a soft, gentle sort of smile, one that you feel conveys nothing but the utmost innocence and contentment with the world. You know he's pretty good at fighting, but doesn't get into fights needlessly, he's accomplished and respected, but has never been the guy everyone is talking about -- he's in the background, against the wall. Never speaking, always looking out, sometimes at the sky, sometimes carefully watching people. Sometimes you see him, gaze blank and tranquil, and wonder what he's thinking about. Whether he's the village boy in the time of Twilight, the trained and honored warrior that slept for many years, the boy that came down from the sky -- you can't help but feel at ease around him, safe, you can't help but find him endearing and pleasant.

Yet, you always seem to notice him. Other people... forget he exists, sometimes, he's so quiet. You never do, for whatever reason.

When he needs to get something across, he prefers to express himself through actions, not words. If you lived in Skyloft, or Ordon village, you might find problems mysteriously solved, work suddenly done that you don't remember doing. That fencepost outside your home that broke has been replaced overnight. A village child went missing and he comes back a few hours later with them in tow. Always humble, never demanding or expecting thanks, he tells you in his quiet voice that he's happy to help you.

And should you ever ask him for anything, he'll drop whatever he's doing to help. Anything for you, he says with a smile, which makes you feel a bit guilty when, honestly, you're not even sure you're remembering his name right.

And yet, sometimes, you feel so at ease around him it seems unnatural. He seems so easy to trust. You feel like you've known him forever. And sometimes you feel... for just a split second, less at ease. You find yourself randomly stiffening at his calm, sweet voice. You find yourself looking around when you're alone, as if you feel someone is there, and for some reason, his face flashes through your mind. Sometimes when he looks at you, you feel sort of cold. It's almost like invoking a memory you don't have, like some kind of learned instinct you can't recall a reason for. But those moments are fleeting, they come and go before you can even process them, replaced by warmth and comfort.

If you do spend time with him, if you find yourself gazing out your window when he's training, the next thing you notice besides him being quiet and sweet is that he's strong. It's almost ironic, how all the other knights or village boys are so aggressive and rowdy all the time, many of them taller or bulkier, and yet, none of them could ever dream of defeating Link. Not one can match his agility, speed, prowess. Such a pleasant, calm person, with so much skill, strength, and power, but that power is so rarely seen exerted. People marvel at his talent, they say it's as if he has the experience of lifetimes and lifetimes of battle in his blood.

And it's why you feel at ease when he's assigned the task of guarding you. His capabilities are unmatched, and yet you'd never fear any harm to you from him. Both of those traits put together make him the best candidate to protect you.

Of course, you do find yourself doing most of the talking. Sometimes you find yourself rambling to fill the silence, and you fear you're annoying him, but when you stop he raises an eyebrow and asks why you got so quiet. Did he do something wrong? He seems to worry about that a lot -- has he done something bad? Has he made you upset? Are you mad? At first you think he's worried about his position security, but after a while you realize he genuinely worries about it.

And when you do continue your ramblings, you're surprised to find he remembers your words -- every little thing you say. Things you don't even remember telling him. He asks you about that relative you mentioned one time, his eyes light up and he walks a bit to the side because look, it's your favorite flower over there, he'll get it for you. It's impressive, really, how he manages to remember such things. He must take his job very seriously.

He does enjoy giving you such things -- he loves giving you gifts. It's usually things he finds, wholesome little things -- makes a crown out of the flowers you like so much, finds something interesting here or there, while he was off-duty he saw something in the markets he thought you'd like and got it for you. You almost feel guilty, it's so constant that he's giving you things.

Sometimes you ask him about himself, you realize he knows so much about you and you so little about him. He blushes, he rubs the back of his head, he insists there's nothing interesting about him, he wouldn't waste your time like that. It takes time to get him out of his shell, but eventually, he tells you this or that, little stories from his life.

Sometimes you take long walks, you like to get out of the stuffy walls and have fun outside, he accompanies you across Hyrule. Sometimes it feels familiar, you pass places you've never been that give you a feeling of nostalgia, deja vu, a sense that you've been here before.

He’s protectiveness incarnated. Insanely so. He can spring to his feet at a moment's notice and deals with anything that comes for you before they can even get close.

It makes you feel safe, but there's something else there. It's a ferocity that is so contrasting to his normal self, different even from the times you've seen him fight as he trains. It's a glint in the eyes, an aggression in his expression, that almost makes him seem like a different person. And it lingers for a moment, once the creature is dead and his sword hand falls to his side, he turns and glances at you to his side, a hand raised to wipe the blood off his face, and for that lingering second, it's still there, his blank expression and wide eyes -- a ferocity so intense it starts to look like bloodlust, chaos, destruction. And then, it's as if you imagined it. Smiling and telling you it's gone now, you're ok. You're glad he's so truly devoted.

In fact, he's so dedicated to his job that he starts... doing it... outside of his job hours...? Well, today he was given the day off, and you were told to stay inside because you didn't have to go out. He comes knocking on your door, says not to be startled if you hear someone outside your door move or shift or anything, but he just wanted to let you know in case. He'll be right here. Keeping watch. So don't worry. You're safe.

And likewise, he was supposed to have a day off when you were supposed to enter the town. You were assigned two other guards to watch you, since it's a special trip, so you're surprised to find just Link waiting for you. He took care of it, he says, he didn't feel right leaving your safety up to someone else, he doesn't trust them. So they agreed to let him take over for today.

All of this said, he doesn't have to grow alongside you, he doesn't have to be the childhood friend, the knight who guards you. He doesn't even have to have met you. Fate works in odd ways like that. There's a sort of inexplicable instant attachment he takes to you, almost as though it's some kind of destined, divinely inspired sort of thing. He would describe it as saying you feel familiar to him.

He's also, notably, prone to a more traditional trope of what you might call humility whiplash. For the most part, he's got that overly humble, worshipping, "I don't deserve to even stand in your presence" sort of mentality. However, although it's rare and requires a lot of wearing down his mental state, if pushed far enough, he can have brief moments where he snaps into more or less the complete opposite -- entitlement, arrogance, aggression, getting mad at you for the behavior he'd normally take with a smile on his face. Thankfully, unlike some yanderes that have a whole snapping episode towards their darling, his are very very brief, usually only a matter of seconds or a single snarled sentence before he snaps back to normal, wide-eyed and apologetic and telling you I don't know what came over me. It’s... a little frightening to say the least, but you blow it off, tell yourself that hey, everyone has moments like that... Right?

How likely are they to kidnap their darling? How quickly will they do so?

For the most part, he doesn't need it, he can pretty easily cling to your side well enough to be assured of your safety, and he manages to scare off the undesirables not with a glare, but a smile that's just a little too sweet and far too persistent -- it unnerves people. You hear a lot of people say that something about that guy rubs me the wrong way. Or that he gives me goosebumps for some reason. Even the people he scares away themselves can't pinpoint exactly what it is, all they know is that, despite being reputed as kind and quiet (and maybe a little dense), somehow a lot of people agree that something about him puts people at unease, and that's all he needs. Because they stay away from him, and if he’s by your side all the time, that means they stay away from you too. Why keep you trapped when you can just be isolated?

An aware Link is a a unique scenario. One scenario that's rather... interesting to imagine is a Link that defies fate itself, a Link that decides to be selfish in one of those rare snapping moments of his. Perhaps he makes a decision when everything starts going down, when the chaos is beginning, or perhaps he has somehow managed to gain knowledge of the bigger picture at work, the reality of the nature of your existence and his.

Perhaps he begins to think it's unfair. To suffer again and again. To prove himself again and again, and not always even to reap any benefits, to work so hard and yet still -- still -- you slip out of his grasp. He longs for a life with no tribulations, no struggle, no fights to be fought. He begins to feel like it's what he wants the most. He begins to feel like maybe it's what he deserves. So many lifetimes of struggles, if the higher powers won't give him a reward, he'll take it himself.

And perhaps, for all their higher power, not even the great goddesses themselves would have ever predicted it -- humans are ultimately creatures of will. To defy fate and to run away from destiny -- it wouldn't be the first time a human has tried such a thing. Sure, Hyrule may be destroyed. The people may all die. There may be nothing left. But you know what? He's stopped caring. If you're alive and he's alive, tucked away in your little corner of the world where you've found respite, well, that's all he needs. Even if you're on the run from forces that would want to find you, even if the threat of the final third of the triforce owner looms over your head. He'll ignore it, he'll look away.

You'll live a quiet little life together, a happy life without suffering, without quests and enemies, without strife, without worry. That's what he tells you when he steals you away, lifts you out of your bed one night. Says to be quiet, there's danger outside your door, he's rescuing you. You have no reason to not believe him. He waits until things go down, a castle under siege, but rather than taking you to where you're supposed to go, he climbs onto the horse and starts... riding away. It gets further and further into the distance, and you might ask why, what's going on? You have a job to do, he has a battle to be fought. But he says you're going far, far away, someplace you'll be safe.

But what about the divine beasts, the seals, the Twilight, whatever threat runs in this world in this time, what about the threat of Ganon, you ask? He says it doesn't matter anymore. You were doomed to fail, he thinks, it's either stay here and die, or run away. All that matters is you. And he'd like you to feel the same way for him. You will with enough time, don't worry.

He just wants this happy, quiet life with you that he’s been denied time and time again. It’s all he wants. If fate won’t give it to him, he’ll make it happen himself, and carve out the life he is determined to have, defying even the will of higher power.

How difficult is it to escape from them? How do they keep you restrained? How do they deal with attempted escape?

He gets it. Really, he does. "Stop following me!" You yell. Well, he understands why you might feel that way, but this is kinda his job. He thinks you're naive. Not that he would ever, ever have a thought that you're imperfect, of course! It's because you're so perfect and pure that you're... less aware of the dangers all around.

He'll let you think you're free, perhaps. He's more than capable of being quiet, quiet is kind of his thing. Watching you from a short distance is easy. Of course, his horse might make a noise, he can't really help that, or he might misstep on a branch or something. And then you turn around and get all mad again. Now you're even more angry. Well, he can also tell your guardians/father, who will encourage you to accept it. You can't help but feel a little bad -- he's just doing his job.

Now, our aware, runaway Link, well, does he really need to keep you restrained? What would you go back to? Certain death, a land destroyed? Sometimes you mention home, and he's quick to remind you that home doesn't exist anymore. His home is where you are. Can't you feel the same way? You found peace here in this little place -- a village far far away. Travelers, you call yourselves. What's the point in going elsewhere? How would you ever survive without him? He's not very good at being subtle or skillful about the psychological manipulation, it's obvious he's trying to scare you into not leaving, but... it still works, because really, he has a point.

He doesn't want to have to use physical restraint, in any case. And for the most part, it's not needed, because one important aspect of your relation is that his job kinda revolves around you (in some incarnations), or, perhaps you live in the same little village, but either way the thing is that his presence does the job well enough -- he's always there, perhaps more so than almost any other yandere. Even when you think you've managed to get away from him for a moment, somehow his face pops up out of nowhere. How he manages to pull it off is a mystery, you swear he manages to find you so well and predict your movements it's inhuman.

But if you really, really pose a problem, a smarter and sneakier darling that somehow manages to keep slipping out of his grasp and running off (you never get away for more than about 20 minutes or so, but nonetheless), you keep trying to run off when he's sleeping (he wakes up in approximately 25 seconds if your presence is absent from the bed, but that's still enough time to run out the front door), every time he turns his head (which isn't often) you're trying to disappear... well, in that case, he can reach a point of deciding more straightforward measures are necessary. He hates to do it, really, at least when he's not yet at a snapping point. But it's for your own good. And he says so, quite apologetically.

But it's not so bad, it's not like you're being chained to a wall or anything. For one, he got leather ties so you'd be more comfortable, but more importantly, as your guardian, he figured the best thing for you to be tied to would be... himself. Think of it like friendship bracelets! It's just... got a 5-foot chain connecting them. This way you can't sneak off at night, and you won't get too far when he's distracted. It's a safety measure.

How easy are they to trick, deceive, or manipulate?

He's a learner. At first, it's easy. Honestly, he is a rather naive, gullible boy, sometimes he reminds you of a happy dog with his bright eyes. He likes to believe the best of people, give them the benefit of the doubt in all circumstances, and that goes double for you, who he believes can do no wrong.

And even when you do lie to him, it's still not wrong. You didn't do anything bad. Clearly there has simply been a misunderstanding, and you thought you had to lie. Or perhaps you simply forgot a detail or were confusing something with something else. It wasn't malicious on your end, he knows that.

He's actually significantly smarter than he lets on in practical knowledge, though. Those dungeon puzzles pay off, you know? He's got pattern recognition down. So over time he learns how to distinguish when you're lying to him or attempting to deceive him, and sees through it increasingly well.

And yet, he doesn't really... get mad over it, most of the time. Again, he's just capable of deluding himself into believing there's a reason. He believes so strongly in your goodness that he finds a way to interpret everything you do as out of benevolence. So you snuck out the window and didn't tell him you were going for a walk because you just wanted to get away from his suffocating presence for once? You were just thinking of him. You didn't want to burden him and wanted to give him a break. Well, that's thoughtful, but don't worry, he doesn't need a break. He thinks it's precious you're so considerate of him though!

You don't tell him you were talking to that person, and you lie and say no when he asks, because you don't want him to worry, and because you underestimate how dangerous others can be. He's told you a million times and you don't listen, but that's ok, it's because you're just so pure you see the best in everyone. Everything you do is good.

Because he perceives your lies, he will still work against and around it. He won't confront you on your lies, he'll just make sure to deal with the situation -- you lied about sneaking out, well, he'll just keep watch and be ready to meet you outside next time. You lied about talking to a person, well, he'll just have to make sure they stay away from you instead.

If you're trying to trick him, he just plays along until necessary. Smiles and nods. He gets the suspicion you're planning a break-out when he told you he was leaving to go get something from town... rather than saying so, he just decides, you know what? Why don't you come with him? Oh, you're feeling sick, you tell him it's ok, go without you? Well, he can't leave you alone then! Because you're clearly not and just trying to get him to leave... or, as he says, he can't just leave you alone. He'll go another day.

He's fairly manipulable when it comes to praise and affection. You can easily Pavlov him into certain behaviors or patterns with just the slightest words of praise and affection. He's not a very outwardly expressive person, tends to stay quiet, but you can tell how he feels inside when you give the slightest praise, a hug, a kiss on the cheek -- you can see that soft hint of a smile and tell that inside, he's basically melting, even if it's not obvious to most people. And, much like the lying, he’s honestly often aware of it, but he just can’t help it.

How lenient are they? What privileges can you have, and what will you be denied?

He tries to get you the things that he feels will make you happy. Your happiness is incredibly important to him, and he usually thinks about how any action he plans to take might affect you, spends a lot of time debating choices of things to do or say and try to determine how each one will affect you and choose accordingly.

As such, he goes out of his way to support the things you want to do. Have a hobby? He'll find the best materials available. Want a book or a food? He'll obtain it through some means. Even if procuring it involves a side-quest-y set of mundane tasks or scouring the world for 70 of this and 50 of that to exchange it for the item from an obscure specialist, it's all worth it.

The only thing he just doesn't give up on is the constant vigilance and insistence on being by your side more or less every waking second. And every sleeping second. And just every single moment you're alive. It's for your safety.

This is actually one of the things he can get a little nasty about when it comes to how he deals with it, because he quickly has the bright idea that if you don't get it, he'll make you understand. Of course, he can't actually risk you getting hurt, so he stages it. Allows you to sneak off, or at least think you have, and walk right into the path of those monsters he lured, or the people he hired to intimidate you. Of course, it's only natural that he shows up at the last possible second, right on time to save you. You should expect that, after all, it's his responsibility to protect you, of course fate works out perfectly like this. See, he was right, it's so dangerous, and without him you'd be dead. Hopefully you grasp that now.

What kind of rules do they have? What kind of punishment would they use?

His is mostly related to vigilance. Where are you? Who have you been talking to? Who was that person you were talking with just now? What did they say? He's not nosy. He just cares about you. It’s in the job description. You ought to understand just how much certain bad people would love to find you and hurt you. That's why he has to know.

This isn't our modern world, so there's no phones or tracking devices to speak of, just himself, which, well, might as well be a tracking device since he never seems to have difficulty finding you. Sometimes you're not sure how he does it.

He tells you that you don't have to be with him 24/7, but you will be, even if you don't realize it. He's aware enough to know that you'll feel suffocated and get mad if you're aware of his presence all the time, so he gives you your "alone" time, aka, the "follow her quietly from a 20+ foot distance" time. It all feels the same to you. Well, sometimes you feel eyes on you, but you shake the feeling off as paranoia.

So it's not so much that he sets rules and reacts when they're broken, but rather, he works his way around anything you might do so well that he doesn't need you to follow his rules, or really, you take them more as suggestions. But honestly, that's kind of worse. It's enough to drive a darling to the brink of a mental breakdown very quickly. With Link you will inevitably become paranoid, nervous, you feel like you're going insane because he manages to pop up everywhere, he always knows what you did when you did it and you have no idea how it is even conceivably possible for him to know some of the things that he knows. He confronts you very plainly and quietly, often sweetly, asking why you did this or that or telling you it's ok, you don't have to hide anything, surely there’s a good reason, and if not, he forgives you anyway. In a way, it's worse than an angry confrontation. You begin to feel like he's omnipresent, like he can read your mind, and it truly takes a mental toll and affect you worse than any normal yandere's concept of punishment.

This ultimately works out well in his favor. The more you just do what he wants, the less it feels like a violation or intrusion that he knows these things, since he was there with you, it makes sense, and you continuously get bent to his will.

How do they deal with rivals, or perceived rivals? Will they get rid of them? Will they kill them themselves, or find another way?

Ah, and thus we get to that brutality rating.

It would be unthinkable to think that any sort of scum would even dare. Even he isn't worthy of being with you, and someone else thinks they could be? So, he more or less views "rivals" as an offense. When they're threats, well, he's allowed to deal with them. When they're not, well... he has a wonderful reputation. If he says he overheard that person planning usurpation or assassination, that they realized he was listening in and wildly attacked him, everyone will believe him. Even if the death seems a little... non-immediate. And uh... frankly... overkill. How exactly... did those limbs get perfectly severed during equally armed combat? And was it... really necessary... to kinda spill entrails all over like that? He'll apologize, of course, he was just so outraged by the thought of someone hurting you or your family, you know? You notice his eye twitches a bit as he says it.

He has a lot of... bottled up frustrations, which we'll touch on in the nsfw section as well, but it tends to manifest in those two ways: sex and violence. Rather than exerting stress and anger and frustration as it comes, he lets it fester. He tries to maintain being the noble, humble, self-sacrificing person he feels he should be. That is... difficult to do for a long time. People expect a lot from him, even in timelines where he's not necessarily realized as the hero quite yet, he usually has a lot of responsibilities. But then you tack on the whole hero thing? The weight of the world is sometimes, quite literally, on his shoulders. Do you have any idea the kind of stress that comes with that knowledge? It's not pleasant. And it quickly bottles up, a very very fragile bottle set to eventually shatter in a matter of time.

On a longer sort of quest, he just kinda... leaves a trail of destruction in his wake. Enemies don't actually just poof out of existence the way they do on-screen, you know. Anyone coming across an area he's just been through is met with literal piles upon piles of corpses, sometimes monsters, but sometimes people. He takes a very scorched earth sort of policy when it comes to dealing with things.

He's able to easily get close to people, with that sweet face and puppy eyes and lithe body, people don't really feel on guard around him nor intimidated. That makes it significantly easier to infiltrate enemy hideouts, earn favors, and work his way in to be able to commit mass murder more easily. Granted, no one thinks too much of it because they *are* truly enemies, after all, they *did* need to be taken out and well, if the rulers can choose to either send a group of ten soldiers or just one guy and get the job done equally well either way, they'll go with the latter option. No one thinks anything of it, except the occasional person who laughs and says something to the effect of remind me to never get on your bad side, haha! He gives that sheepish, sweet little smile, and jokingly tells them that yeah, better not.

How easy is it to make them mad? What does their anger look like?

For you, nearly impossible. For others, at a hair trigger.

For the most part, he conceals anger well until, as aforementioned, it bottles up and bursts. The truth is he gets irritated virtually all the time by other people. People who talk to you. Look at you. Smile at you. He’s actually rather easily annoyed even when you’re not involved, but again, he’s good at hiding it until it builds.

His rage has a commonality with his calm -- it's quiet. At least, at first. When it's directed at others, his eyes narrow. It's the telltale sign that someone has ignited his rage. It burns on the inside, it starts off as a spark that builds and builds and grows larger and larger until it's a blazing fire that consumes everything in his path. It's a loss of composure, a rare moment of complete loss of self-control. From his own perspective, it feels like he's not in control of his own body, it's all a blur happening in front of him and when it's over he's looking down at his own hands, unable to process his own actions, sometimes unable to remember them.

But it's violent, merciless, unforgiving. It does not yield to begging, it does not leave anything alive unless forced to. You remember the first time you realized how unnatural it was, how shocked you were at how he did something that certainly went against the code he was sworn to follow, the very first time you felt truly afraid of Link. It was a walk in town -- someone called out to you, spitting obscenities about you and your family, your lineage, threw something at you -- he caught it in his hand and crushed it, and quickly, without a word, advanced on the offender. And, to make a long story short, you had to prevent him from beating a man to death in public in broad daylight. He was forgiven by his superiors, but even they seemed shocked. You had to pull him off, and when he jerked his head around to look at whatever was stopping him -- before his face softened as he recognized your own face -- the split second you saw the burn of hatred and fury in eyes that were normally so soft and loving, was nothing short of unsettling, you still recall the chill that ran down your spine.

And honestly? It's terrifying. And the first time, it's shocking. Sure, you knew he could fight. You've seen him fight off monsters, bokoblins and lizalfos and the like. But something is different about seeing the blood of a human being run down his sword, dripping onto the ground, to see the bodies and the blank, numb gaze on his features he always has after it's over. The absolute lack of hesitancy he has to run human enemies through before they even have a chance to explain themselves, how unbothered he seems by the carnage left in his wake. The way he turns back to you, drenched in red and smiles, tells you it's ok, you're safe now. There's no need to look so scared.

And it changes how you view him, in the long run. Less of a guardian angel, more of a guardian dog, one that defends your name when you never asked him to. Pleads to tell him not to fall on deaf ears -- you just don't understand why it has to be this way, he says, you can't comprehend the threat they posed. From the sweet boy that leaves you flowers and repairs and instead leaves a wave of destruction in his path you would not have thought possible.

Directed towards you, though, it's entirely different. He tries his best to have patience with you, no matter what. He smiles, he tries to make excuses as to why you'd say this or do that, why you'd feel a certain way, and he's rather good at deluding himself to give you the benefit of the doubt.

But when it reaches an end, when he can no longer lie to himself, when you push it to a point that you truly make him mad, it's more of a snap. The times he'll lay hands on you in a truly violent way are rare, and as aforementioned, very brief. It's usually not so much of actually a blow, so much as a grab. He just can't get what he's trying to tell you through your thick head, so he stresses it, trying to make you understand as he grabs you by the upper arms, shaking you with each word, and he only stops when he sees the pain and fear in your eyes, drawing his hands back at lightning speed. He saves you from some danger very narrowly, one of the few times he lost track of you for a moment and had to frantically search before coming across you being attacked. What would I have done if something happened to you? Don't you understand that? He's so lost in the relief it takes him a moment to feel you beating on his arms in the embrace, choking and wheezing that you can't breathe, that his grip is so tight it feels like he'll snap you in half. He draws back again, and he apologizes, but it will certainly happen more than once.

So they see you as above them, beneath them, or equal to them?

Above. Like, so, so, so far above. He feels like he doesn't even deserve to look at you. Of course, neither does anyone else, so he's just, you know, stepping up to bear the burden of wrongdoing to keep people even worse than him away from you.

So it's less that you're just above him so much as you're above everyone. He's actually, perhaps surprisingly, a little bit of a pessimist about the world. The world is full of so many terrible people and so many horrible things happen that he's borne witness to. It's a "world cold and hard, (y/n) soft and warm" sort of thing. You're the one good thing, the thing that makes him happy, the ultimate source of comfort he has, and he has to prevent you from being defiled by the evil of the world, keep you innocent and sweet (even if he's just deluding himself to think you are those things in the first place).

This ties into, again, how he interprets every action you take as good and benevolent -- he has the "you can do no wrong" mentality. Even very blatantly malicious things, he'll interpret in a way that makes you somehow still come out a perfect, innocent angel. If you do harm to others, well, they simply deserved it. You did something technically wrong, but you knew no better, or you were desperate. You can't be held responsible for any of it. And if you're mean to him, well, he probably did something to make you upset.

How determined are they for you to love them? How hard will they try to make it happen? Or are they content just having you?

Sort of a duality. Yes, he's very persistent. He thinks about it all the time. Every time you yell and try to run and hurl nasty insults at him, it hurts far more than you realize. He doesn't let it show on his face or in his voice, but it really does, and it gets to him sometimes. He's hyper observant of every little thing you do, your body language, your tone, the way you look at him, and the slightest of differences can change his mood internally, although it tends to look the same outwardly.

He makes little mental notes of it -- today she didn't flinch when I touched her shoulder. Today she didn't frown when she saw me coming. Little things like that will make his entire day. Likewise, the inverse kills him inside. He aims to make every day one of the former days, where the littlest signs of acceptance or even kindness and affection give him a sort of high that makes him feel like he's floating.

He tries his best to do things that he thinks will, well, earn love. Every opportunity to do something for you, he takes it. Everything he sees he'd think you'd like, he buys (or steals, or... loots from a dead body) for you. On and on that idea goes. And although he doesn't say too much, when he does speak to you, he usually has something nice to say. He views it in a formulaic way -- ironically, think about it like those collectibles in overworlds. You get enough of this or that thing, and once you have enough, you can go talk to this or that person and donate them all and get a reward, right? He's accustomed to viewing things that way. Love should be the same way. If he just completes enough tasks and gathers enough items, eventually he'll unlock your love.

That being said, even if it doesn't happen, much to your despair, he just... doesn't. Give. Up. He doesn't quit. No matter how many times you tell him, it doesn't make a difference. You can tell him you'll never love him, and it's like it goes in one ear and out the other. He keeps trying. And he never, ever, ever stops trying. What did you expect? The boy's been fighting the same enemy over and over across lifetimes, needless to say his spirit has build up some persistence.

Bonus: Is there anything that makes them unique, in comparison to other yanderes?

Bonus: Zelda/Triforce of Wisdom Darling

And don't worry. If it all goes wrong, when he fails, those divergences in time where the hero is vanquished and evil wins out -- it's not the end. Somehow, that's the feeling he gets, holding your little lifeless body up, running hands across your cold skin. Somehow, he feels oddly calm. Like it hurts, but it's ok. Like he'll see you again. Maybe not soon, but one day. This time didn't work out. But the next one will.

And that's the feeling you'll always have. Every time you meet him and you feel like you've met before, the lingering memories when you wake from your dreams -- flying through skies and sailing on oceans, a child, an adult, a boy you've never met, or one you've known all your life, but it's always the same face, the same voice, the one right beside you in the waking world. You sometimes wonder if he has the same feelings, the same dreams, the same sense of something greater than yourselves at work, the sense of being just smaller pieces in a much bigger picture.

The sense of permanency, that each other is all there will ever be -- regardless of how it makes you feel, regardless of how that scares you, sometimes you feel like you can never be free. Sometimes, when you think of running away, those dark moments when you think of even escaping from life itself, it feels futile. It's as if you know it would never hold him away forever. As if death is insignificant. Perhaps in this lifetime, you'll become aware of why that is, or perhaps not.

With other obsessive lovers, just the idea of til death do us part is a terrifying thought. But, for Link, not even death can keep him away from you. Your suffering is already determined by the will of higher power, for the sake of a greater good.

In truth, it’s the goddesses who made him this way intentionally -- it’s designed to ensure your safety, even at the cost of your suffering. Again, for a greater good. Sure, you may live one lifetime to the next desperately locked in the same cycle in which your freedom and will is stripped from you, but in the end, it serves a purpose.

Nor will he change -- perhaps this one this time is a bit more spirited, more calm, more pessimistic, more optimistic... but in the end, at their core, they're the same soul, with the same will deep, deep down. The same drive to find you and protect you. The same love for you, an all-consuming love that destroys everything in its path to you and leaves ruin in its wake.

And if fate should one day keep you apart, should things change, for whatever reason, it’s unable to change him. There's another force even more powerful than fate determined to keep you together. The only thing more unavoidable, inevitable, and unescapable than fate, is Link himself.

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General perverseness: how sexual of a person are they? What’s their drive like? How touchy do they get? Do they have any reservations about sexuality?

In moments of passion, he changes a bit, unlike other more submissive yans who stay consistent in their reverence and desire to please.

You see, after a while, being as lenient and tolerant and flexible and completely devoted as he is... constantly self-sacrificing in so many ways, to you, to Hyrule, to the world... some frustrations build up. It's a big, big bottle of emotion, all tucked away and festering, getting greater and greater and eventually it has to explode somehow.

His reservations and inhibitions fall away. Perhaps a darker, more selfish side comes out. Perhaps that's why he's so rough. He knows he'll regret it later, the bruises from how hard he grips, the marks from the bites, but the hormones and the heat takes over. He'll feel bad for defiling you. He'll apologize. And he'll do it again. And again. And again.

But once the resolve crumbles, it topples. That is, he can't partially maintain it -- if it's partially gone, it falls apart completely. He lets go, so to speak. And when he lets go, you find that underneath that carefully constructed resolve and willpower that holds him back, he can be a very, very rough and possessive lover. In his normal state, he wouldn't dare think of you as a possession, or as something he's even worthy of. He would like so, so much to think that, to feel like he's allowed to -- but he doesn't. He chastises himself for even having such a desire. But in those moments, when his resolve is gone and his brain isn't thinking quite too clearly, he might even have to audacity to say "mine." Even if it's not true, not now, maybe it will be. He would like that so much. His and his alone.

And in a moment of clarity, he might even throw away the inhibition on purpose. The more selfish side, the same Link that drags you away from your destiny -- he's already forsaken his responsibilities, hasn't he? Why care anymore about the structures that no longer exist, your status and his, if there's no kingdom left? He likes that it happened, even. This way, this time, you can throw off those titles, those roles. Without your status, your title, there's nothing stopping him from making you his. And you will be his, and nothing more. It's all you need to be. So he doesn't have to care anymore about any of that, he doesn't have to stop himself from going wild. Biting into every little spare patch of skin, covering your body with marks that make him feel comforted to see.

As far as drive it's a bit of a two-sided duality. Outwardly he's not a very sexual person at all, blushes and stutters and averts his gaze at the slightest mention of suggestive topics, tries his best to be Respectful(tm) by always looking away when you're in a compromising position, or your skirt flies up, etc etc. Given how constant his vigilance is, he has a tendency to accidentally walk in on your changing or bathing, except unlike with many yanderes, it's genuinely an accident. Not that the image doesn't stick in his mind, nor does he wish he hadn't gotten to see, but he does feel guilty, and it was genuinely unintentional. He kinda freezes up, so it takes a moment for him to actually snap out of it and run out.

That being said, he quickly develops something of a masturbation addiction when he's younger, it starts as more of a stress reliever than anything, He's so sweet and always feels bad about talking about his problems and feelings, so that and, well, violence are the only ways he can get it out. Thus he learns to channel stress and nerves into sexuality, and once he has a real living body and not just his hand, that dependency on cumming to relieve it doesn't change.

How forceful are they? Do they care about your willingness?

Particularly so, yes, cares quite a bit. And it takes a while for him to feel comfortable. Even consensually, the first few times he touches you for several months, he's got trembling hands and stays quieter than ever, constantly freezes up every time you move or make a noise because he thinks he's done something wrong. He has to be coaxed into feeling more comfortable before he gets used to it, but he will build confidence over time.

As addressed before, though, if he's pushed and pushed and pushed long enough, you can get a darker side to come out. This is most likely something that would only occur post-kidnapping in a distant time, once he's far away from any possibility of consequence and destruction has set in to the world around you. He starts to get a little bitter, if you've been mean to him. It all builds up. Don't you get that he's literally saved your life? That he devoted every waking second to you? Isn't he kinda entitled to some thanks? The cycle of time never rewards him. Even the figures he helps over time rarely give him more than a verbal praise and thanks, maybe an item here or there, and then disappear. His role feels thankless. He starts to feel like he deserves something, something tangible, in return.

Surprisingly, though, he actually does not take the route of guilt-tripping or emotional manipulation or gaslighting his way into it like a lot of the sweeter yanderes when he does have that snap. His snaps/breakdowns are rather extreme in terms of how much of a polar opposite they are to his normal state, rather than just a slight bend of his normal personality. Rather than taking the route of most yanderes like himself, he just gets directly physically forceful. Still somewhat sweet, though, reminds you he loves you, he'd die for you, you're his entire world. You'd argue that doesn't really change the actions, but considering how frightening he is in that state, you're not dumb enough to vocalize that.

The guilt consumes him alive afterwards. Like, immediately afterwards. He's still panting and twitching and buried inside when it sets in. That being said, he doesn't get to stuttering and profusely apologizing, like he does over smaller offenses. It's all done and he can't take it back, so he just kinda collapses and says nothing. He's not the best with words, you know. It's an odd mixture of guilt and, honestly, a bit of satisfaction and relief. It feels like letting go of some self-imposed burden, that feeling of finally surrendering to some deep want, even if it comes with a lot of remorse, the relief of finally letting go does have a good feeling as well... and because of that, it’s another one of those barriers that, once broken, can’t be built up again.

What sort of kinks or fetishes do they have, or would they fill?

In all honesty the boy is, for the most part, a fairly gentle and vanilla lover. He doesn't really need anything special to get off -- he's easily excited and cums very very easily too. Just the prospect of getting to stick his dick in you in any capacity is enough to make him nearly burst at the thought honestly.

In general, as aforementioned, he's very very cautious and gentle to a point, but has a tendency to get actually kinda rough once he gets into it. The thing is, the roughness aspect is actually unintentional. He's one of those boys that is a little bit unaware of his own strength, doesn't process exactly how hard and fast he's going. He just gets lost in the feeling, kinda enters a dazed lusty haze where he's less aware of his actions. Doesn't realize he's literally got an iron grip pressing your head down on his dick or into the bed until you start flailing your hands because you can't breathe. Doesn't realize how hard he was gripping until he sees the bruises on your arms and hips later. That sort of deal -- poor thing is just unaware and doesn't have enough blood in his brain to think straight.

Biting

Surprisingly a really big one for him. (Remnants of a past life cycle with some lupine experiences perhaps?) In all seriousness, he could not explain exactly why if asked, it's one of those "I just like it" sort of things. It feels like yet another way to conjoin the two bodies, pulls you close. The marking aspect is also nice. Granted, he feels guilty afterwards, tries to help it heal. He has that same duality where moments ago he was this intimidating beast of a human being, rough and growly and jerking you like you were weightless, and now he's back to this bright eyed softie stuttering while he apologizes.

The guilt is mixed with a bit of enjoyment, though. It's constantly conflicting -- sure, part of him understands it's embarrassing and will help you cover up, but part of him doesn't want to, he wants people to see. Part of him looks at the marks and tells himself internally to never do that again, and part of him sees them and just wants to give you even more. It's a constant internal conflict, poor thing.

As far as a place, he likes the neck and shoulders best, simply because it's the most visible and it's the most passionate ones to create, when your bodies are tightly locked together. That being said, though, he also has a thing for biting at the insides of your thighs. It's another one of those I just like it sort of things.

Sometimes, when you're asleep, or pretending to be, you can feel him trace the bite marks with his fingers, softly running them over the circular pattern, just enough to barely ghost over your flesh.

Somnophilia

It puts him at ease. This one is particularly prevalent towards the beginning of your relationship, before you really know... how he is. He has this image of you as so pure and he couldn't bear the thought of defiling you with his horrible horrible thoughts. The guilt eats away at him for a while, but eventually he just can't hold back, but how could he ever do anything to you and risk consequence? So... the solution he comes up with is waiting until you sleep.

He tests the waters to see how heavy of a sleeper you are. Calls your name at increasing volume, lightly runs his fingers over your hair, pokes your face, whispers in your ear, runs his hands over your arms. Just to see what makes you rustle, if anything, so he knows the limits. If it turns out you're an incredibly light sleeper, well, unfortunately that means he's limited to just jerking off to your sleeping form, but that's ok. Just seeing your soft face and the cute way you breathe, the slightest way your lips open, that's enough for him.

If it turns out you're a heavier sleeper though, well, he tries to fight the temptation, but ends up going further. Slowly climbs onto your bed, careful to make the weight shift as gently as possible. Slowly pulls the covers back. Runs his hands up and down. It's a lot better when he can actually see your body as he jerks off, honestly. If he's feeling particularly risky, he might press your thighs together, feel how soft your skin is to his cock, how nice the squeezing pressure between them is.

He gets easily lost in a haze, though, so he inevitably ends up accidentally cumming on you and has to frantically find a way to lightly dab it up without waking you. He panics quite a bit, but that doesn't stop him from doing it again the very next night.

Overstimulation/Forced Orgasm

It just means he's doing a good job, really. Sure, you squeal and kick your feet back and forth and tug at his hair, but that's just because it feels good. Orgasms equate to love and feel good, right? Sure there's a little bit of pain when you go overboard, but then it just leads to feeling even better, right?

It's kind of an irrational compulsion rather than a logical goal, though. He just has an impulsive need to feel you quiver and spasm and clench, it basically gives him a chemical high hit and a wave of reassurance, makes him feel good in both the physical sense and the emotional sense. The first one sends him into this compulsive need to feel it over and over and over again, as many times as he can. It's another one of his internal conflict things -- sure, he knows it's hurting, but he just has to get one more. Just one more. But of course, every time turns into "just one more" when he's been saying that for half an hour now.

And, to be honest, it kind of gives him a pride boost to think he can make you cum against your will. How many people struggle to achieve that even when both parties are trying? It makes him feel good in an adequacy sort of way, he feels needed.

Size Kink/Distension

You know, there's a well-known thing among the male-lovers in this world when it comes to size. It's never the arrogant, loud guys, it's never the social butterflies, it's never the tall guys, it's never the beefy muscly guys. No, they're not the ones that end up somehow bestowed with absolute monster cocks. It's always the soft, lean boys who don't talk much. And they're always painfully unaware of it, too.

He's no exception. Not to the size or the complete lack of awareness. He hasn't spent a lot of time around guys his age too much, he's always been the one sent for some special task and ends up out in the wilderness by himself on journeys, or, in some lifetimes, accompanying you most of the time. He doesn't know what the average dick looks like, so he has no idea he's far above average.

This might sound like a plus, and of course in some ways it is, but also he doesn't think about the fact that the average body isn't properly equipped to handle it. You're supposed to just kinda put it in, that's how the sex works, right? Poor thing, especially if it's entirely consensual sex, he's just kinda ???? because why are you in pain? What is he doing wrong? You have to eventually explain it's literally just his body, not something he's doing.

That being said, naturally, he's a humble person, but hearing you say that does kinda... make him feel good inside. A little bit proud. He's not a person who takes a lot of pride in many things, so he likes having this one thing, and quickly notices you can visibly see it through the bulge it makes in your stomach. Especially if it's in a position where your back is pressed to his front, every little movement creates the bulge, so expect to get a lot of that.

He doesn't really bring it up much or talk about it when he's actually fucking you, it's more like, as with many things, something he's quietly aware of and silently enjoys a lot internally, even if it's not voiced.

How do they feel about pregnancy or babies? Do they want them?

Yes and no. It has to do with his overactive protection instinct. What if something happened or went wrong? He couldn't take that. He couldn't lose you.

At the same time, he likes kids, and he's very good with them, very patient. And over time, realizes that a kid would be the perfect tool of manipulation, and besides that, isn't it a beautiful thing, an ultimate manifestation of love?

So how to work around that... Ultimately, what he decides to do is have a kid... Just not by blood. There are plenty of orphans in Hyrule, wandering the streets and the wilderness, picking one up is easy. ...You wouldn't leave this poor child to suffer out there, to fend for themselves, would you? Nor would you leave him to take care of it by himself... Right?

What kind of (nsfw) punishments would they use?

Oh, it's not like he thinks of it that way. He would call it... a reminder. You put yourself in danger again? You tried to go back again? You were gone and for ten whole minutes he didn't know where you were? What could the solution to this issue be? The only thing his brain can really come up with is making sure you need him. Making sure you're content and satisfied here with him so you don't go running off.

Thus we return to the forced orgasm thing -- see, you do need him. It feels good, right? You say it hurts, and maybe it does a little, but ultimately you wouldn't be cumming if it wasn't good. No one else can ever do that. No one else knows you like this. No one else was made for you like this. You can't replace him. You need him. And he can keep going as many times as it takes until you see that, too. Even if he gets milked dry, he has a mouth and hands for a reason.

And by "until you see that," I mean until you say it. In his more... emotionally intense moments, he gets a bit insistent. He needs to hear you say it. Admit it to yourself. And to him. That you need him, that you depend on him, that you'll never leave again. And don't think your patience and tolerance can stand a chance of outlasting his -- it will keep going until you say it.

What body parts of their darling do they like the most?

He's one of those wholesome type of boys who goes with something sweet. He says maybe your hair, your face, your skin, your eyes. It's all so comforting. So familiar. Of course, not to say that he doesn't like your less wholesome mentionable parts, but he wants to be chivalric about such a question, and feels answering that way would be too disrespectful.

In his unspoken thoughts, though, he likes the hips. It's a part of you he can grab onto and hold you close with. He puts his hands there a lot and holds tight, like he feels like at any moment you could slip out of his grasp. And, I mean, it's nice to look at, can't forget that.

#atml #scheduled post #yandere x reader #yandere legend of zelda #yandere link

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marwritesgood · 4 years

Text

Rewrite | M. Martinez

Pairing: Mario x Diaz!Reader

Timeframe: Season 3

Summary: As life with their newborn becomes increasingly difficult, Mario and Y/n stop seeing each other eye-to-eye (and other stuff happens).

masterlist

A/N: (This is one of the longest things I’ve ever written (I actually had to cut it down and group some paragraphs together bc it exceeded the limit), but I couldn’t help myself. I really enjoyed exploring the dynamics between the characters and all the themes that came with it. To keep it from dragging on, I condensed the canon timeline and changed some details around - hopefully it’s easy to keep up with x

It had been a month since the birth of my and Mario’s son, Manuel. What I had expected to be the beginning of the happiest chapter of my life turned out to be quite the opposite. And it had nothing to do with the people around me or my son.

Mario’s family were so supportive of us. Abuelita insisted we stay with her until we had the funds to get a place of our own. Both her and Geny were constantly offering to babysit Manuel, which I took up almost all the time, much to Mario’s dismay. Even Oscar tried to pull money together every other week to help us out. I should have been nailing this whole motherhood thing in theory because I had so much support from everyone I loved. In reality, however, I was struggling to get by.

“And you’re sure you fed him before you left for work?” I was on the phone with Mario as I pulled up at Oscar’s house. When it came to getting out and taking the buckles off Manuel’s car seat, I pressed my phone against my ear, using my shoulder. “The one I put on the counter, right?”

“Yes,” Mario replied, his aggravation vividly clear in his tone. I had to stop for a moment to try and keep myself from crying. I had been doing a lot of that lately at the worst times, and I couldn’t understand why. When I didn’t respond, Mario sighed loudly. “Look, babe, you can’t keep calling me when I’m at work... I’m new to the job, and I’m already on my boss’ bad side.”

I inhaled sharply. He was right.

“I’m sorry,” I said quietly, trying to control the way my voice sounded so Mario wouldn’t be any more concerned about me than he already was.

“... I’ll see you when I finish, okay?”

After a short moment, he hung up, and I put my phone in my back pocket, thinking back to the times where he would never end a call without telling me he loved me. I didn’t know if it was because he genuinely didn’t catch on, or he was too eager to leave the conversation, but I needed that reminder now more than ever.

I slung my bag over my shoulder before picking up Manuel’s car seat, where he was fast asleep. After closing and locking the car I was borrowing off of Abuelita, I headed inside Oscar’s house. I hated the days where I was left alone with my son. The days where no one was around to take him off my hands. So on days like these, I would go to Oscar’s house and spend the day there, just so I wouldn’t be left alone with Manuel.

“He sleeping?” Oscar asked after he heard me come in. His back was turned against me, and he was facing the counter where he was making two cups of coffee for both of us.

“Yeah,” I answered, exasperated from carrying my son and my belongings inside. After putting Manuel, who slept quietly in his seat, down on the couch, I joined Oscar, who smiled at the sight of my son sleeping soundly.

“How you been?” Oscar asked, nodding at me as he pushed a mug of coffee in my direction. I hummed as I lifted it up and took a sip. I couldn’t drink coffee as often as I liked since I was breastfeeding, but I saved the few times I did when I went to Oscar’s. He made it the best.

“Good,” I answered, without even pausing to think. Oscar shifted his attention to me and watched as I fiddled with the handle on my mug. I knew he wanted to pry. He wanted to ask me more and more questions until I finally gave him a truthful answer, but I wasn’t ready for that. Fortunately for me, before he could say anything else, Cesar came bursting through the front door, throwing his bag on the ground before approaching Oscar. I held the handle of my mug tightly as I watched him speak.

“There’s a dude posted up outside.”

Oscar got up instantly and walked outside, his gun in his hand, ready to be fired. Cesar followed him, trying to stand next to him as he approached the guy across the street, only to be pushed behind by Oscar. I took the opportunity to peek through the sheets of tin foil Oscar had covering the windows. After squinting my eyes to try and make out the man standing on the other side of the street, a duffle bag by his feet with an oddly familiar stance, I began to piece together who it was.

My father.

Before my brothers could make their way back inside, I took Manuel into my old room, which Oscar left untouched since I had moved out after giving birth. I could faintly make out the sound of their conversation in the living room area, so I took my time putting Manuel and my bag down. When I finally made my way back to where my family were seated, I could see the tension between all of them. My dad and Cesar looked up at me when I walked in, but Oscar remained glaring at Ray.

“Cesar, you need to get to school,” Oscar said flatly.

My little brother lifted his hands in annoyance and immediately looked at me. Often, when Oscar told him to do something he didn’t want to, he would turn to me in hopes that I would say the opposite. It was always that way, never vice versa. But, when it came to either one of our parents, I had to have Oscar’s back.

“Go,” I told him, and he reluctantly picked his bag off the floor. I took his spot on the couch and joined Oscar in, glaring at my dad. He looked no different from the last time he bothered to come around.

“You still in school?”

“I finished over a year ago,” I droned, wanting more than anything to take my son and leave, but I knew I couldn’t leave him alone with Oscar. Not to mention if I did leave, I would have no place to go but back to Abuelita’s place where I would be left alone with Manuel.

“College?”

“Are you kidding me?” I laughed dryly. Oscar shook his head.

My father inhaled slowly, his eyes scanning the room before landing on the corridor that leads to the bedrooms. I felt my heart begin to pound, fearing for where this conversation was heading.

“The baby you took to your room,” he began, confirming what I had already expected. I hadn’t done as good of a job at hiding Manuel as I thought. “... yours?”

I could see Oscar getting angrier and more aggravated by how he clenched his fists and his jaw. He was always protective of Cesar and me when it came to our dad, but it appeared to be tenfold with Manuel. I glanced over at my brother, but he was too busy glaring at Ray to notice. Sighing, I turned back to him and nodded. There was no point in hiding Manuel’s existence from him. That didn’t mean I wouldn’t still try and protect him.

“... The father?”

Ray hesitated before asking. I could tell that, while he was obviously curious to know, he was also cautious that he was digging too deep so suddenly. Oscar huffed, rubbing his hand over his facial hair, clearly annoyed. I felt indifferent.

“Mario Martinez.”

“Martinez?” He raised his eyebrows before pulling his blunt back towards his mouth. After exhaling slowly, releasing a cloud of smoke, he nodded, seemingly impressed. “... Good family.”

“I didn’t ask for your approval,” I scoffed before standing up and turning my back to him. I looked down at Oscar and signalled him to follow me into my old room to have a conversation outside of our father’s earshot.

Once he had followed me inside, I closed the door to ensure privacy before turning back to my son, who was thankfully still fast asleep. I began packing his things up as I spoke to Oscar.

“What are we gonna do?”

After gathering Manuel’s things, I brought the handlebar of his car seat up so I could be ready to take him to the car, through the backdoor, as soon as Oscar and I were finished discussing our next course of action.

“I don’t know,” Oscar sighed as he shoved his hands in his pockets. I sat on my old bed and looked up at him silently. After a moment, he looked back at me. “Cesar wants to... take him out for lunch tomorrow.”

The way Oscar explained, I could tell how immensely uncomfortable he was with the thought of it and with how eager Cesar was to reconcile his relationship with.

“Want me to go with them?” I asked.

He nodded.

I sighed but nodded back. As much as I wanted to avoid having a conversation with my father, let alone sit and have a meal with him, I couldn’t leave Cesar to meet him for lunch on his own. I couldn’t let him get too close and too vulnerable with Ray.

Oscar and I knew better than anyone how that would eventually end.

***

After leaving Oscar’s place, I noticed that Mario’s car was parked outside the building when I got home. Manuel had fallen asleep during the car trip, so I carried him in his car seat inside.

After I took him to his nursery and placed him in his cot, I went back into the kitchen area where Mario was grumbling as he did the dishes. It was getting late, so I assumed he was just tired.

I walked over and stood beside him so I could give him a hand, but he turned to me with furrowed brows before I could do so. My heart began to pound because I knew I had done something to upset him.

“You said you would do the dishes today,” he stated sharply. I sighed before dropping my head down. “It’s so late. Where the hell have you been?”

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled before reaching past him so I could finish washing the rest of the dishes. I hoped that would be enough to defuse the tension, but Mario simply took a step to the side and continued to glare at me as he waited for an explanation. “- I was at Oscar’s, and I lost track of time. My-”

“I don’t care,” he interrupted, the volume of his voice rising abruptly.

Whenever Mario and I fought, he was never the type to yell, no matter how angry he got. I always worried that I would end up pushing him over that edge one day, and it seemed like today was that day.

“Mario,” I whispered, slightly startled by how angry he was getting. There was obviously more to it than just me forgetting to do the dishes.

“I work so hard to support you and Manuel,” he began, his voice growing louder from what appeared to be frustration. “I asked you to do one thing.”

“I know, but-”

I was planning on leaving Oscar’s place early to make it back in time to get all the housework done. When my dad arrived out of the blue, it put a wrench in my plans. Mario cut me off before I could explain that to him.

“And what’s up with you calling me at work all the time?” His expression was saturated with anger. I wondered how long he had bottled up this resentment. “I thought you would be used to taking care of Manuel on your own by now.”

“I’m trying,” I cried in reply. I really was.

“Try harder,” he said in an icy tone, his expression becoming emotionless all of a sudden. I held my breath, trying to suppress my tears. “You shouldn’t be taking Manuel out so late... you need to start being a better mother.”

He turned around and walked into our shared room. Once I was sure he was out of earshot, I turned my attention back to the dishes I was cleaning, trying to keep myself distracted.

When I felt my tears beginning to pour out of my eyes, I knew it wasn’t working.

All of the insecurities I felt about being a new mother were beginning to surface. I wanted desperately to be everything Mario and Manuel needed me to be, but I just felt like I could never be able to do that. And it was killing me inside.

***

The following morning, I woke up extra early. I tried to get as much housework done as possible to give Manuel his second bottle for the day. Normally Mario would because I would be too exhausted too, and because it normally fell around the time, he was set to leave for work.

Since the night before, we hadn’t spoken to each other, so I thought doing that would be a step in the right direction for us. Apparently not.

“What are you doing?” Mario asked, startling me as I tested the temperature of Manuel’s milk on my wrist.

“I was gonna feed Manuel,” I explained.

“But I feed him his second bottle,” Mario said, anger and annoyance both prevalent in his tone and his expression.

“I know,” I replied calmly. This was appearing to have the opposite effect to what I hoped it would; Mario was seemingly getting angrier with me. “I just thought you might want a break from having to feed him this morning.”

“Looking after my son isn’t a burden, Y/n,” he retorted, his voice getting louder with each word he spoke. My eyes grew wide. I didn’t know whether to be startled or offended.

Was he insinuating that I made looking after Manuel seem like a burden?

“I never said that,” I responded.

Just as I finished speaking, the sound of Manuel’s cries sounded throughout the room. Mario turned back to me, holding his hand out so he could take the bottle and feed our son. Not wanting to argue with him, I reluctantly handed it over.

He left for work without saying goodbye to me, even though I stood in the kitchen and watched him go. Normally he would kiss me goodbye before leaving to go anywhere. I knew this was a testament to how angry he was.

Once it was nearing lunchtime, I took Manuel and dropped him off with Geny. When Abuelita saw me crying by the kitchen sink the night before, she sat me on her couch and consoled me. After I explained to her what happened with my dad, she called Geny. At first, she wanted to confront her son about how he spoke to me, but I talked her out of it. After that, she offered to watch Manuel for the afternoon while I went to lunch with Cesar and my dad.

Once I dropped Manuel off to her, I headed to Dwayne’s restaurant, where Cesar and our dad were seated at a booth. As I approached them, Ray sat up uncomfortably.

“Sorry I’m late,” I said as I took a seat next to Cesar, who immediately passed me his plate of fries. I turned to him and smiled, only to be met with a concerned expression.

“You okay?” He asked, knitting his eyebrows out of worry. I had forgotten I spent the night crying and that my eyes were slightly puffy.

“Yeah, I just didn’t get much sleep,” I answered a beat too quickly for Cesar to be convinced. Nonetheless, I knew he would look past it so he could continue catching up with our father.

“I was just telling Cesar how good it is he has a job,” my dad said, as he took a bite of the food Cesar undoubtedly got him with his employment perk.

“Yeah, Dwayne’s always been good to me,” Cesar explained, smiling nervously as he fiddled with his fingers. It was endearing and concerning the way he was so anxious he was acting like an overexcited child. “Even when things got hard.”

I placed my hand on him should and gripped it tightly. Cesar was one of the more emotional ones of the Diaz men, but that didn’t mean he was always upfront with how he felt.

“I heard about your mom,” our dad said, looking up at the two of us nervously. I stared blankly at him, trying my best not to glare, but I promised Cesar I wouldn’t be hostile at our lunch. “I should have reached out... I’m sorry.”

I looked over at Cesar, and I could tell he was trying his best to maintain his smile. I was the only person he had ever spoken to about our mom, but those conversations were infrequent and always emotional.

“You should try the char burger,” I said to our dad before sliding out of the booth, so Cesar could step out. “You’ll like it... Cesar, why don’t you go order one for him.”

He nodded before leaving so he could head towards the counter. I slid back into the booth and glared at my father.

“What’s your deal?” I asked angrily, annoyed that he would bring up such a painful memory for Cesar, let alone myself. “It’s not enough to traumatise us; you have to come back just to pour salt in our wounds?”

“That’s not why I’m here.”

“Then why are you here, huh?” At that point, I was just as curious as I was angry. He had been in and out of prison for over a decade, yet the last time he bothered to stop by, Cesar wasn’t even old enough to form memories.

“I... I wanna patch things up,” he said.

It really took him over two decades to grow a conscience and make an effort in his children’s lives.

“Look,” I whispered before glancing up at Cesar, who was in the process of getting the char burger. I sighed. “Just... tread lightly for now, okay? Cesar wants to catch up with you, not relive his childhood trauma.”

Ray inhaled deeply before nodding. I felt protective over Cesar, but when it came to our parents, this was only heightened. I was not going to let my dad hurt him. Not on my watch. Once Cesar was approaching the table, I slid out so he could sit in his initial spot.

“Where’s Manuel, Y/n?” Cesar asked.

My breath hitched as it dawned on me that I forgot to ask Cesar not to bring him up in front of our dad. Once he mentioned him, however, I knew there was no going back.

“He’s with Geny,” I answered before taking a bite of my plate of fried. Ray watched me intently before speaking up again- exactly what I feared he would do.

“Is there any chance I could meet him?”

I had to physically and figuratively bite my tongue. As much as I wanted to respond snidely, I knew that would only damage my relationship with Cesar- who made me promise that I wouldn’t be hostile at that lunch.

“I’ll think about it,” I replied. Cesar’s expression didn’t seem to change, so I knew I had answered in a way that both kept the peace and ensured I could continue to control how much of a role my dad would have in my son’s life- which, if it were up to me, would be minuscule.

Just as the conversation headed towards a different, much safer direction, my phone began to vibrate.

After I excused myself from the table, I went outside the building and answered the call.

It was Mario.

“Why does my mom have Manuel?” His tone was accusatory and angry. That seemed to be the case for all of our conversations.

“I’m at lunch-“

“You left Manuel so you could go for lunch?!”

“It was important, Mario.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” He was speaking so loudly, I had to hold my phone at a distance away from my ear. “What kind of a mother are you? What could be more important than our son?”

My breath hitched, but I tried to recover quickly. Nothing was more important to me than Manuel, but I needed Mario to know that I wasn’t avoiding my responsibilities as a mother for something trivial.

“I’m at lunch with my dad,” I explained, trying to speak as quickly as possible so he wouldn’t have the chance to interrupt.

“... You’re dad’s back in town?” I was relieved that he was calming down, finally understanding why I was too preoccupied to have Manuel with me at all times.

“Yes,” I answered, trying to keep my tone neutral despite how much I was on the verge of tears. “- but don’t worry. I’ll pick up Manuel... I know I need to start being a better mother.”

I made it a point to use Mario's exact phrasing when he scolded me the night before. Just as he began spluttering a response, I hung up the phone.

***

It had been a week since I met Cesar and Ray for lunch. I hadn’t heard from either of them nor Oscar until I was on my way to picking up Cesar. Normally he preferred to make his own way home, but he had plans to meet with Ruby and wanted me to give him a ride. Just as I pulled up in front of Dwayne’s barbecue joint, my phone began to ring. As soon as I answered it, the sound of my older brother’s voice sounded throughout my car. Needless to say, he was angry about something.

“Did you know he got him a job?”

There it was.

“Huh?” I answered, completely taken back by what he had said. I suspected he was talking about Ray, but for Cesar’s sake, I hoped he wasn’t. “- what are you talking about, Oscar?”

“Cesar got the viejo a fucking job,” he yelled, his voice growing louder and angrier with every word he spoke. “- what happened to keeping an eye on him?

“I-i had to leave early,” I sighed. “Cesar must’ve talked to Dwayne after I left.”

“Well, great fucking job, y/n,” Oscar retorted. I could feel the pace of my heartbeat quickening the louder and madder he got. I felt overwhelmed. “You were supposed to make sure Cesar didn’t get too close to him; now they’re workmates.

“Look, I know you’re mad, but could you stop yelling at me?!” My voice shook as I spoke, and I felt my eyes water and hands shake. I didn’t know what was coming over me, but I had no control over it. “- I have enough people telling me I’ve fucked up. I don’t need that shit from you.”

There was silence for a prolonged moment, and I groaned quietly. I didn’t mean to overshare, but it was too late to take it back. I didn’t want Oscar to worry about me more so than he already did.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled quickly. “... you alright?”

“I’m good,” I replied, even though he and I both knew I was far from it. Nonetheless, I wanted to end our conversation as swiftly as possible. The longer I stayed on the line, the more I feared he would pry into what was going on with me. “- Don’t worry... Look, I know it’s messy, but there’s nothing we can do without hurting Cesar. We just gotta wait it out and see how it goes.”

After agreeing to do so, Oscar hung up, and I finally made my way inside. My dad was wearing an apron and stood by the front counter. It eerily reminded me of the times he would cook for my brothers and me when we were kids, that is, in between the times he abandoned us and showed up when he needed a place to crash. When the doorbell rang as I walked in, he looked over to me and smiled. I almost didn’t want to glare at him.

“Hola mija,” he greeted as he approached me. I hated to admit it, but I could see how hard he was trying to be an accomodating host. “Can I get you a menu?

“No,” I replied, shaking my head. “- no, I’m just here to pick up Cesar. He said he needed me to give him a ride somewhere.

“He’s in the back,” Ray replied, nodding towards the entrance to the storeroom. “I think he’ll be out soon.”

“So,” I began, trying to fill the awkward silence. Though I still had 19 years worth of resentment towards him, I wanted to be civil. “You’re working here now, huh?”

It felt strange talking to my father like this. The last time he was around, I was around Cesar’s age. Now, we were making small talk like the two adults we were. It felt uncomfortable because part of me still felt like the girl I was when he left, the girls who had been hurting for almost 10 years because of what he did.

“Yeah, it’s nice... Dwayne’s a good boss.”

“Yeah,” I smiled in agreement. Mr Turner was one of the kindest people I knew. Whenever I came into his restaurant after school, he always made sure I left with an empty stomach even if I didn’t have any money. Now, he was doing the same for my little brother. “He’s always been good to Cesar.”

Just as I turned to call Cesar to come out from the storeroom, my dad spoke up, causing me to turn my heel back and face him. He seemed hesitant, which was a strange sight. I remembered him being certain of everything he did.

“Hey, um,” his nervousness was heavily prevalent in his voice. I tried to prepare myself for what he was about to say, knowing it would have a significant impact. “- I know you said we could talk about it later... but I really wanna meet my grandson.”

I inhaled sharply. Of all the things he could have said, I was not expecting him to bring up Manuel. Considering his track record, I assumed he would be gone before my son crossed his mind again. He seemed to prove me wrong.

“- I know, you have every right to say no,” he added, in a tone I could only assume, and hope was sincere. “- I was a horrible father to you... but I’m hoping I can be a good abuelo... if you give me a chance.”

“I don’t know...” I sighed. I still felt uncertain about my dad and his agenda. I felt uncertain that he changed enough to be sincere, let alone enough to have a place in my son’s life.

Although he was Manuel’s grandfather, and nothing I could do would ever change that, I had control over who came and left my son’s life. I would not let him in without confirmation that he was better, that he had changed.

“I understand,” he answered.

The two of us stood in awkward silence for a minute or so before Cesar entered the dining area, his backpack clutched in his hand. He seemed concerned by the way my father and I were standing, the tension between us physically apparent just as it was figuratively.

“Hey, you ready to go?” I smiled as I turned to face my little brother. I didn’t want him to worry any more than he already did.

Cesar nodded, drawing his attention away from the tension between our father and I. Just as we were about to turn and leave, Ray pulled out a brown to-go bag from behind the counter.

“Here, mijo, I got you something,” he said as he handed the bag to Cesar, who was taken aback but smiled nonetheless. “I noticed you didn’t have anything to eat when you were on your break.”

I glanced back at Cesar, who seemed grateful. Often when he had a lot on his mind or a lot on his plate, it was easy for him to forget to do important things like getting something to eat. Moreover, when Cesar did realise what he had forgotten, he would often try to hide it. It took a bit of paying attention before Oscar, and I picked up on it. I was impressed that my dad managed to do so in just a day.

“Do you need a ride?” I asked my dad, who shook his head and smiled.

“No, I’ll be okay. I still have a few more hours to go.”

“... Are you working tomorrow?”

“No,” he answered. I could tell he was worried about where my subtle interrogation was headed.

“Okay,” I smiled, knowing what I would say would make him happy. “Come by my place tomorrow morning... You can meet your grandson then.”

He grinned as he inhaled deeply. I smiled weakly before placing my hand on Cesar’s shoulder and walking out of the restaurant, hoping with all my heart that I wasn’t making a mistake.

***

My dad arrived at my doorstep the next morning, almost half an hour before the time we agreed upon. He tried to hide it when I greeted him, but I knew how happy he was that he was finally getting the chance to meet his grandson.

“Where’s Mario?” Ray asked nonchalantly as I led him to Manuel’s nursery.

“He’s working,” I answered shortly, not allowing my dad the chance to pry. “Just watch your step when you come in. There’s lots of toys lying around.”

I smiled wearily at my son as I carefully picked him up from his bed. I was getting more confident in holding him, but I still felt scared every time I did. As I cradled him in my arms, I looked over to my dad, who had carefully navigated his way through the array of baby toys on the ground.

“Here,” I said softly, as I slowly moved towards him, carefully transferring my son from my arms and into his. Watching him cradle his grandson so carefully and with so much concern made me smile. “His name’s Manuel.”

“Manuel,” he repeated, smiling as my son continued to sleep soundly in his arms. I couldn’t help but smile. This was a side of my dad I forgot existed. He shook his head as he continued to grin down at Manuel. “... que lindo.”

I turned away and began folding Manuel’s freshly washed clothes away. As I pulled open one of the drawers, I looked down and saw my dad’s duffel bag in the corner of my eye; fully packed and discarded by the door. That’s when I began to piece together why he wanted to meet my son so soon. I pushed the drawer shut slowly before turning to back to my dad, who was still oblivious to what I had figured out.

“You’re leaving?” I asked, glancing pointedly at the bag he left by the door.

He slowly turned around, carefully placing Manuel back in his cot, before turning back to me. When he didn’t say anything- only nodded guiltily as he shoved his hand in his back pocket, I wanted to scream.

“Why?” I questioned, trying to understand why he was choosing to leave again, especially after reconciling with Cesar and finding out he has a grandson. Did those things mean nothing to him? Did we mean nothing to him?

He glanced back at Manuel before leading me into the living room, knowing that I wasn’t gonna be quiet. I closed the door behind me and began scolding my dad.

“Can’t ever think about anyone but yourself,” I shouted in frustration. I had really hoped he changed. “This is gonna break Cesar, but you don’t give a shit about that, do you?”

“Mija-”

“-And what about trying to patch things up, huh?” I wasn’t going to let him speak. Not until I got what I needed to say off my chest. I didn’t get to do that the last time he walked out, and I had regretted it ever since. “How do you think they’re gonna react when you tell them?”

When my dad stood silent, eyes falling to the ground, I stumbled back.

“What, you’re dumping that on me too?”

Silent filled the air for a prolonged moment. I glared at my father, bewildered by what he was doing and how little regard his plan had for me and how I would be affected. He looked like he was about to speak.

“I’ll call Cesar when I get to Bakersfield,” he said as if that solved the issue. “Oscar... he’ll come around, but... he’s gotta let go of that rage-”

“- Stop,” I hissed, holding my hand up and shaking my head angrily. I began to regret ever inviting him inside. “You don’t get to do that... You don’t get to come here and try and tell us what’s wrong with us- You’re what’s wrong with us.”

“Mija-”

“And would you stop calling me that,” I snapped, raising my voice louder, although Manuel was sleeping in the room. “I stopped being anyone’s hija the day I had to start being a mother to a kid that wasn’t even mine.”

I glared at my father, who stood silent. My eyebrows knitted together as I continued to shout at him.

“And now... I finally get the chance to raise my own, but I’m too scared to be left alone with him in case I end up exactly like you. A deadbeat.”

My father looked taken aback by my outburst but remained silent, nodding his head only slightly, showing he acknowledged the truth in what I was saying, or rather screaming, at him. I breathed heavily, tears brimming in my eyes as I felt my throat begin to close up.

“Everything bad that’s happened to me is because of you,” I cried, my voice beginning to crack. Before I could continue speaking, I inhaled sharply, my breath beginning to stutter. “I can’t even look at my son without thinking of all the ways I could end up failing him as you did to me.”

His eyebrows rose before furrowing in sympathy. Before I could even think of stopping him, he pulled me into his arms and hugged me tightly. I couldn’t help but sob quietly. I had craved a hug from my dad for most of my childhood.

I wish he hadn’t waited so long to give me one.

***

Fortunately, not long after Ray left, Abuelita arrived home. After explaining to her what had happened, she happily agreed to stay with Manuel so I could go and break the news to my brothers. So I got my things together in haste and drove as quickly as I could to Oscar’s house.

After knocking on the front door and being let in by Oscar himself, I sat at the table and waited. My brother had our traditional mugs of coffee at hand and sat opposite me. He immediately noticed my puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks.

“What happened?” He asked softly, watching me intently as I fought back the tears while trying to piece together an explanation. He leaned forward and clutched the handle of his mug. “You and Mario fight again?”

I shook my head quickly. Staring down at my mug, I sighed deeply. The longer I waited to tell him, the harder it would eventually be. There was no point in beating around the bush.

“Ray left,” I stated. Oscar inhaled sharply, clicking his jaw as he turned his head away from me. I couldn’t bear to look up at him, so I sat in silence. Whatever he wanted to get off his chest, I would let him.

“Cesar’s gonna be crushed,” he sighed. He and I both knew that more than anyone. Even though he knew that our parents basically left us with no choice but to sacrifice our youth and dreams to support Cesar, he still yearned to have a relationship with them. If only he knew how painful it was.

“Hey,” I whispered, causing Oscar to finally look me in the eye.

I could see his eyes glistening. Though his first concern was how Cesar would be affected, I could tell that he was just as impacted. We both let our guards down when Ray accepted the job at Dwayne’s business. We both secretly hoped he would stay this time.

“I’ll tell him,” I insisted. Oscar sat up, ready to disagree, but I spoke before he could say anything. “- he made you break the news to us the last time he left. I’m not gonna let you go through that again.”

My voice began to crack. Oscar furrowed his eyebrows in concern, but I had already made my mind up.

“He’s gonna take it out on you,” Oscar said, in an attempt to get me to leave the burden with him, but I refused. I shook my head.

“Let him,” I replied shortly.

Cesar was a wild card when it came to things like this. When Oscar delivered the bad news, Cesar would respond by either breaking down or shoving our brother. Sometimes he would even punch the nearest wall. When it was me, however, Cesar typically responded by saying awful things. Things he didn’t mean. Often he would accompany such words with a shove or two.

I knew that this was a big one, though.

So I tried to prepare myself for anything. Maybe Cesar was gonna say something awful to me in retaliation. Maybe he was just gonna break down in tears. Maybe he was gonna react in an unprecedented way. Regardless, I was willing to take whatever. For Oscar and I, this was yet another time one of our parents let us down. For Cesar, this was the first time he got to develop a relationship with either one of them, and so the first time, he was gonna be disappointed so severely.

About an hour later, after Oscar and I finished our coffee and sat silently on the couch, Cesar came home from school. Noticing how quiet we were, he immediately figured out that something wasn’t right.

“What’s going on?” Cesar asked hesitantly, noting how Oscar and I were staring at him as he walked in with such intent and concern. He glanced down the hall before looking back at the two of us. “Where’s Ray?”

I had done so much crying; I was convinced that I had no more tears left. Yet, when Cesar spoke, I felt my eyes being glazed over again. I looked over at Oscar, who offered a nod of encouragement.

“Cesar, c’mere... Ray left,” I explained painfully, not having enough courage to look at my little brother as I spoke.

“What?” Cesar was already beginning to shout, and I didn’t blame him. I inhaled sharply while looking up at the ceiling, trying to pull myself together so I could be there for him in whatever way he needed me to be. “He wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye.”

“He did.”

Cesar sighed, his eyebrows knitting as he processed the bad news. His eyes quickly darkened, and he immediately turned to Oscar.

“What did you do?”

“He didn’t do anything,” I said before Oscar could chime in. I held my hand out and gently pushed Cesar back after he stepped towards our brother. “I was the last one he talked to, okay? I only just told Oscar before you got home.”

“Well, what did you say, then?”

“Cesar,” I sighed. I had little to no energy left, let alone enough to argue with my little brother. “He was never sticking around... He showed up with his duffel bag already packed.”

“What, you didn’t try to talk him out of it? You just let him go?”

“I’m not responsible for what he decides, Cesar.” My frustration grew exceedingly as I spoke. “He’s a grown man. I shouldn’t have to talk him out of abandoning his children... again.”

Cesar turned away, confirming to me that he knew I was right. I sighed, thinking the worst of our argument was over, but that’s when Cesar spoke again.

“I bet this makes you happy,” he muttered. “You and Oscar couldn’t wait to get rid of him.”

“Happy?... You think I’m happy?” I repeated, furrowing my brows as I stared down at my little brother. Of all the stupid things he’d said to me in his lifetime, this was an all-time low. “Are you fucking kidding me? Cesar, I’m your sister... but for most of your life, I’ve been your mom... If you’re gonna yell at someone, get on the next bus to Bakersfield and go yell at him. He’s the one who left. He’s the one who ruined our lives.”

“Ray didn’t ruin my life,” Cesar muttered quietly, shaking his head and laughing dryly, before looking up at me with a scowl. “You did.”

Oscar stood up and placed himself in between Cesar and me. He held his arms up in an attempt to get Cesar to back down but to no avail.

“Cesar, that’s enough,” he warned, facing our little brother, who shoved back every time Oscar tried to push him away. Cesar was adamant about getting the last word, but Oscar continued to try and keep him back. “Ces- Cesar, that’s enough.”

“No, you know what?”

Cesar fought free from Oscar’s grip and immediately finished what he started.

“Everything bad that’s happened to me is because of you,” Cesar spat, glaring at me with such passionate anger, I almost didn’t recognise my little brother. “Manuel’s gonna need all the luck he can get with a mother like you.”

My mouth slowly fell agape, and my breath hitched. I could hear Cesar breathe heavily from all the yelling. He glared at me, almost as if he knew how much he was hurting me, but he didn’t seem to care. He stormed out of the house before Oscar could begin scolding him for taking it too far. So instead, he watched my reaction intently, ready to console me if I needed to break down after what Cesar had just said.

“Y/n, he didn’t mean that,” Oscar reasoned, taking note of the way my eyes glistened and how hard I was biting my bottom lip, something I only ever did to keep myself from crying.

I nodded, even though I was finding it increasingly difficult to believe. Everything I had suspected of myself. All of the fears I had about being an actual mother for the first time. Cesar’s words were making me confirm it.

I grabbed my bag off the floor and began heading for the door, despite Oscar’s attempts at calling out to me. I had to leave. I couldn’t face either one of my brothers. And, at that point, I couldn’t even face my son. I began driving around the block before finding an empty parking lot to stop at. There, I sat in silence for a few hours, trying to process everything that had happened since the morning.

***

I had been sitting in the parking lot for a few tens of minutes. Most of that time, I spent sobbing. It felt like all of the responsibilities I had spent the past few weeks and months, and years of my life carrying toppled over and crushed me in the process.

The part that hurt the most was how much I tried to do my best. I tried to be the best mother to Manuel. I tried to be the best sister to Cesar. I tried to be the best partner to Mario. Yet, it seemed like no matter how hard I tried, I still wasn’t enough.

In the midst of my emotional breakdown, a loud tap sounded throughout my car. I looked and gasped when I saw Mario standing outside my door with a worried expression. In all honesty, it never crossed my mind that someone would care enough to come and find me.

After I unlocked the doors, he sat in the passenger’s seat. He watched me intently as I wiped my tears away and tried to compose myself.

“Oscar and Abuelita told me what happened,” he whispered before slowly reaching out his hand and taking hold of mine. We had somewhat reconciled the last time we fought, but there was still tension between us. I was grateful he was taking the first step towards fixing it- goodness knows I was not in a position to be able to. “... Please talk to me.”

At first, I couldn’t even bring myself to look at him. I felt an array of shame and embarrassment. Mario noticed this and responded by gently placing his hands on the sides of my face. He knew I loved it when he did that. I eventually looked up at him, and he just smiled as he waited patiently for me to speak.

“I-I,” I bowed my head for a moment to try and muster the energy to finish my sentence. Mario placed his hand on mine and gently squeezed it reassuringly. “I thought he was gonna stay this time... He kept asking to meet Manuel, and he got a job, and I... I thought it would be different this time.”

Mario nodded but remained silent. Before we began dating, we were childhood friends. He was there all the times my dad left before. He knew how much this was hurting me.

“And I’m so scared,” I cried, trying not to choke on my words. “I’m so scared I’m gonna fuck up my kids’ lives the way he has mine and my brothers’... I don’t wanna break Manuel.”

“Hey,” Mario whispered, taking hold of the side of my face and looking up at me with concern-filled eyes. “You’re not gonna break, Manuel... He and I are so lucky to have you.”

I sniffled as I turned away. I didn’t believe him, and Mario could tell. He sighed. I thought then that he would give up on trying to console me and leave, but instead, he continued to look at me, even as I turned away.

“Is that why you call me all the time?” He asked. I didn’t turn back to him, but I could tell from his tone that he was not agitated anymore. He was genuinely concerned. “- ‘cause you feel scared when you’re alone with Manuel?”

I dropped my head and remained silent, which Mario accurately interpreted as a yes. After a moment of silence, he reached for my hand again. This time, I turned to face him.

“I’m so sorry... for everything I said to you,” he whispered, tears brimming in his eyes. It had been a while since I had seen him so vulnerable, which was strange considering how emotional Mario was. “Ever since I started my job, I’ve just been really stressed... I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. That will never happen again.”

“I shouldn’t have annoyed you so much,” I muttered. I couldn’t help but feel guilty that Mario was apologising to me when he was obviously under a lot of pressure. “You work so hard for us, I shouldn’t be making things worse-”

“Baby, you don’t,” he responded. I began to smile through my tears because he was using a term of endearment for the first time in a while rather than just simply calling me by my name. “You don’t... I’m sorry I made you feel like you do... How about, from now on, you text me when you have a question about Manuel, or when you start to feel overwhelmed, or even when you just want to talk. I can’t promise I’ll always be able to talk, but I’ll respond to you as soon as I can.”

“Okay,” I whispered, smiling at him as I nodded. I felt so relieved that he understood what I was going through. Mario leaned close to me and kissed my temple softly before looking me in the eye, his hands finding their way back to the sides of my face. He could tell something was still on my mind.

“You’re nothing like him, Y/n,” he murmured. “He leaves when things get tough... you’ve always stayed... I mean, you’ve taken care of Cesar since he was born... Now you’re taking care of Manuel... and of me.”

I chuckled beneath my breath. When Manuel was first born, Mario joked about how well I took care of them two. I would have had it any other way.

“There’s no one else I’d rather being doing this with,” he said before kissing me softly. I smiled against his lips, and my eyes remained close for a moment even after he pulled away. “Manuel and I are so lucky to have you, Y/n... I love you so much.”

“I’m lucky to have you,” I murmured as I brought my hand up to his jaw, drawing circles on the side of his cheek with my thumb. He smiled, leaning forward and pressing his nose against mine. “I love you.”

It was as if he came at the right time. Just when things began to topple over me, Mario was right there, ready to bear my burdens with me. For the first time in a long time, I felt a wave of peace and calmness wash over me. I knew I had a lot of work to do. I knew Cesar, and I were still on bad terms. But I also knew that so long as I had Mario with me, I would be okay. I would survive whatever other obstacles life threw my way, and it would all be worth it for my son.

He and Mario were more than enough for me.

#mario martinez imagine #mario martinez x reader #mario martinez imagines #on my block imagines #on my block #Oscar Diaz #cesar diaz #ray diaz #mario x reader #Mario Martinez #on my block masterlist #on my block fanfiction

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kyber-crystal · 4 years

Text

An Accidental Confession

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Words: ~3.1k

Summary: In which you decided to a record a message explaining your feelings for Steve in case you didn't make it out of your mission alive. You don’t have any intention of it actually being heard by him, but you have no other choice to face your fear when it’s accidentally broadcasted across the entire compound.

Warnings: none, this is pure fluff haha with hints of a cocky steve hehe.

A/N: Some dialogue credits go to Descendants of the Sun! (yes, this is a oneshot of a scene from it, bc I love that drama with my whole heart)

Tags: Dedicating this to @sylvie-writes because she’s an absolute SWEETHEART. I LOVE YOU BB. go follow her!

"Hey, Y/N, check this out!"

You glanced up from where you were furiously typing away at the computer to see Peter with a wide grin on his face. "Hm?"

"Look what I found! Mr. Stark's old speaker set!" The teenager went around to behind the table and rolled out the speaker in front of you. "It was a bit souped up, but all it really needed was some TLC and here it is, good as new!"

"Found this old thing while he was cleaning up," Tony explained, "you wanna hook your phone up and give it a go?"

"Uh...sure, why not," you shrugged, standing up and pushing your seat in, making your way over to the two of them. You took your phone out of your pocket and plugged it in.

"Check, one, two," Peter spoke into the small microphone. "Check one, two, three. Hey! It's working!"

You couldn't help but grin at his enthusiasm. "How old is this thing, anyway?"

"Older than me, that's for sure. Now play something!"

"Alright, alright. Let's see..." you scrolled through your playlists until you found the one you wanted, pressing 'play' and putting it on shuffle. "There."

"Fly Me To The Moon! May played it for me all the time when I was little," Peter exclaimed. "She always insisted I educate myself on older music. Now I'm glad she did."

Bucky and Sam stopped screaming at each other as they battled it out in Mario Kart, quieting down and humming to the beat as they held their controllers tightly. Wanda smiled to herself as she stirred the pot of soup on the stove, Bruce on the verge of falling asleep as he sipped his coffee at the kitchen island and read a news article on his phone. The energy within the compound seemed to lighten significantly as Frank Sinatra's soothing voice echoed off the walls.

You went out to the patio to relax, crossing your arms and closing your eyes as the sounds of chirping crickets and music mixed together in one soothing melody, the moonlight reflecting over the water. For a brief moment in time, you were at peace - and you relished in the temporary feeling of serenity. The 'city that never slept' was sleepy, for once. It wasn't all that late, but you were already beginning to succumb to fatigue's temptations.

But then, the song came to an end and switched off to something else.

"Hey, Steve. I hope this message never finds you because if it does...it means I'm most likely dead-" your all-too familiar voice came over the phone, thick with tears as you struggled to contain your sobs. "God, what am I even doing here? I have a gunshot wound that most likely pierced a vital organ so I'm just gonna bleed out here alone- why am I even doing this? I don't even know how much longer it'll be before you arrive with the evac team...so I just want to apologize in advance for not coming back to you like I promised. If I'd known I'd die in a foreign country, I would've lived a more carefree life instead of constantly worrying, like you always told me to just relax sometimes, I'm so, so sorry-"

Your eyes widened in realization and you rushed across the facility as fast as you could possibly go to the labs.

"Leaving words like this before dying is so uncultured- please, Steve...are you on your way? Please tell me you're on your way. If I'm really dying here I don't wanna die alone. Please hurry...I don't think I can last until you get here. Even so, you'll be the first to find me if I die, that is, if my corpse isn't dragged away or some shit like that - God, this hurts- I almost forgot how much it hurt to get shot...damn...I really underestimated the power of a bullet, huh?

Steve's bandaged fists fell to his sides, the punching bag swinging back and forth so wildly that it would've knocked him over if it weren't for his muscular figure. His brow furrowed in concern and he felt a small ache his chest upon hearing your voice crack - you never cried, and even if you did, which was extremely rare, you were good at hiding it from others.

But then a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips - you did ramble sometimes, and he found it rather adorable. It was, in fact, one of the main reasons why he admired you so much.

"FRIDAY? Where's the source of this audio?"

"It's playing from Mr. Stark's speaker in the lab, Captain," the AI responded.

"Thank you."

He unwrapped the tape from around his hands and exited the training facility, going into a light jog as he headed up to the lounge.

"If I knew that I'd die like this, then I would've told you my true feelings. That I'm in love with you and I really wished you'd kissed me when we were watching that movie together- it was Die Hard, wasn't it? I really wished you'd done something. We were sitting so close, and...I couldn't stop thinking about it. I was tempted to just run my hands through your hair and kiss you. And I almost did. I'm so in love with you, hopelessly in love with you...and if there's anything that scares me more than dying alone, it's probably thinking of a way to tell you, and the fear of being rejected by my best friend, my partner in crime-"

A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. You were in love with him? He felt his heartbeat pick up speed at the thought. He always held that small bit of hope in his heart that you'd feel the same way.

Just as Steve arrived at the labs, you came bursting through the doors with a look of sheer panic in your eyes, your face drained of all color. You quickly unplugged your phone from the speaker as he watched on in amusement.

"Want some, Mr. Stark?" Peter offered through a mouthful of popcorn, holding the bag out to his mentor. "Seems like we're in for a treat here."

"Where'd you get these, kid?" Tony questioned as he reached over and popped several kernels into his mouth. "Mm. Caramel, a classic."

"I always keep some with me. Never know when drama will break out."

Steve laughed and shook his head as you quickly turned around on your heel and sprinted out of the room. It was so unlike you to act like this - normally you were rather guarded and stoic. To see you as anything but was not only amusing, but adorable in his eyes - it was one of the many things he loved about you, in fact.

"Music...really changes a lot of things," Peter cleared his throat awkwardly.

The super-soldier cracked a smile. "I seem to be in the center of that change."

He said a few quick goodbyes went to find you, as Peter and Tony continued enjoying their popcorn together.

"Oh my god, I'm so stupid, oh my god, why did I even record that damn message," you muttered, finding yourself going back outside again. You needed to clear your head and get away from Steve. The secondhand embarrassment you just knew was waiting for you was almost too much to even think about - what would he think of you now? What would everyone else think of you?

Steve had beaten you to it and was already out there, leaning against the glass railing with his arms crossed over his chest, wearing an amused expression on his face.

"Oh my god! You scared me!" your voice heightened to a shriek. "What the hell, Rogers? How are you here? Why are you here?"

"I know you like the back of my hand, sweetheart," he chuckled lightly. "You always come out here whenever you're restless or stressed out. Figured you'd try to flee as soon as you heard," he gestured back inside, "all that."

"That was none of your business!" you squeaked. "It was a private message, not meant for you to actually hear! It wasn't for you!"

"Well, you did announce it, publicly," he defended himself, pushing himself away from the railing and raising his hands in surrender. "And it sounded like it was for me. You said my name."

"It wasn't for you!"

"Then why'd you say Steve?"

"It's a different Steve?"

"A different Steve with a stealth suit, Quinjet, and evac team?"

"Y-yeah! B-but it's really funny. Why are you listening to other people's recordings?'

"Like I said, doll," your face flushed at the nickname, "it was broadcasted publicly. I didn't listen, I heard."

"Because you heard it, you carelessly hear it all the way through?"

He smirked. "You know, you're really cute when you're upset." He smirked, taking several steps towards you. You instinctively stepped back. "But why are you running away? When you were about to die you wanted to confess." With each step he took, you took another backwards. "But since you lived, you changed your mind?"

"Confess? That wasn't a confession. That wasn't me."

"This cell phone is yours," he held up your hand that tightly gripped your phone.

"This isn't a phone- Y/N, what the hell are you saying? Stop talking," you cursed yourself under your breath.

"It's an honor knowing I'm in your will," he said kindly.

"If you know then that's enough," you exhaled, stepping around him to leave. Steve stopped you by placing a hand out in front, before moving it to grip your wrist. You felt your skin heat up rapidly under his touch.

You gasped. "Look! Thor set the toaster on fire!"

"I'm not fooled, sweetheart."

You moved to try and leave again, but he only tightened his grip. "Whether or not it was a confession, I'm going to listen to it, so let's not run away, shall we?"

You were silent for several moments before responding, swallowing hard. "Okay. I got it. I'll answer you so let go of me and let's talk. Really."

"Really, right?"

He obeyed, releasing his hand from your wrist. You quickly moved around him and ran back inside. Steve just laughed to himself, shaking his head in disbelief.

"She finally did it," Sam nodded in approval as he and Bucky finished their Rainbow Road deathmatch. "Good game, man."

"Yeah, good game," they shook hands, "but if I'm being honest...I didn't expect things to go down like that. If anything, Steve seems like he'd be the first to confess. The way they're dancing around each other like oblivious monkeys...damn."

"Couldn't have described it better."

...

You flopped onto your bed, panting heavily as you stared up at the ceiling. Your heart was beating so fast that you felt like passing out. Maybe I'll just die like this and I won't ever have to confess for real, you thought. That sounds much better than death by blood loss from a gunshot wound.

"Hey, darling."

You sat up and let out a short scream as you saw Steve leaning against your doorframe, that damn smirk still on his face. "What the hell? You can't just ambush me like that! How long have you been standing there for?"

"Long enough," he chuckled, sliding his hands in his pockets and stepping inside. This time, you were too lazy to push him away, and just allowed him to sit down next to you at the edge of your bed. Steve propped his hand on his chin as he gazed at you, smiling.

You sighed and let your head fall into your hands. "This is all your fault."

"My fault?" Steve tilted his head in confusion. "How is this my fault?"

"Becau- never mind. I'm busy. I gotta go check up on the new lab I'm working on with Bruce."

You stood up abruptly, but he reached out and grabbed your wrist again. "I'm going to go to the labs, too. He asked me to help with a few things. I think you just found yourself an escort."

"I can go by myself, Rogers. I'm an adult," you gave him a pointed look.

"Ouch. That stung," he pretended to look hurt. "Last name calling? I thought we agreed on sappy pet names. And besides, you know what happened last time you went somewhere alone. You got shot."

"Whatever."

"Hold on," he tugged you back so that you had to sit down again. "Why do you keep running away from me? You confess your feelings in your will and then you run."

"It wasn't my will."

"You said you were scared to die alone."

"It wasn't me. Where is your bout of confidence even coming from?"

"I'm not asking how you feel about me at the moment. Don't feel bad that I found out how you feel about me. Because I'm in love with you too, and nothing can change the fact that I like you even more now."

You swallowed hard.

He smiled again. "And you look beautiful today, doll."

"Stop with the pet names," you mumbled. You couldn't stop the tremor in your tone as you spoke

"Hey hey hey, what's wrong? Why are you crying?" Steve brought a hand up to your face, lightly skimming the tip of his thumb across your cheekbone to wipe away the tears that had fallen. "Hey. Tell me what's wrong, darling."

As soon as that last word left his lips, you lost it. A broken sob escaped from your mouth before you broke down, and he felt guilt settle in the pit of his stomach. Sure, he was lightly teasing you - but he didn't intend for his jabs to hurt you in any way. That was the last thing he wanted to do - to see you cry. He hated seeing you cry.

"Oh, God, I'm so sorry," he whispered, carefully wrapping his arms around you and pulling you to him, rubbing circles onto your back. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have taken the teasing so far. I'm so sorry, Y/N-"

It took nearly twenty minutes for your sniffles to die down and another ten for your crying to stop completely, but he patiently held you until you did. And when it finally stopped, it still took you several moments before you could bring yourself to meet his eyes.

"I look like a mess," you muttered, quickly ducking your head down to wipe at your nose. "I'm sorry you had to see me like this-"

"You look lovely, regardless," Steve murmured, kissing your forehead. "You'll always look beautiful in my eyes."

"You're such a sap," you mumbled, closing your eyes. "I hate you."

"You know you love me, Y/N."

"No I don't."

"That message told me otherwise. You sounded like you were pretty in love, judging by the desperate tone in your voice-"

"Shut up!"

"Make me," he challenged, a smirk appearing on his face.

You huffed and stood up, crossing your arms. "You're a pain in the ass, you know that, Rogers?"

"Watch your language-"

"Make me."

"Using my own words against me, are you?" Steve raised a brow as he stood up as well, walking towards you. You kept walking backwards until you felt your back hit the wall and internally panicked when you realized there was nowhere else to go.

"Shit," you whispered. "I'm not escaping this one, am I?"

"Not a chance," he chuckled wistfully. You felt your heart do somersaults and your stomach twist itself into knots as he met your eyes, a softened look to them that you'd never seen before - what was it? Just a few minutes earlier you'd find yourself squirming beneath his intense gaze but for some reason, you stayed put.

When his lips pressed against yours, you felt a crackle of electricity across your skin and the world fell away. It seemed as if time stopped and held its breath as it watched the two of you, his arm curving around your waist as his free hand rested at the back of your neck, pulling you flush against him. Though you were taken aback by the sudden gesture and terrified you wasted no time in reacting, sinking deeper into the kiss. You could feel him smile against your lips and fireworks exploded inside your chest - if there was a way to describe pure magic, this would definitely be it. And he felt it too - and he swore to himself that he'd never felt a bigger rush of adrenaline before until now.

You looked absolutely stunning to him in that moment as you pulled apart - with your half-closed eyes, reddened cheeks, and swollen lips - his doing, no doubt. Your gaze slipped down to his equally swollen lips and you felt your face flush at the sight. Steve was quick to catch what you were doing and pulled you back in for more.

This time, it wasn't as innocent and quick. It was more needy, passionate - months, no, years of pent-up frustration he didn't even know he had seeping into it. Years of not being able to tell you finally being poured out into one grand gesture - years of finally getting closure because he now knew the girl he'd loved for as long as he could remember felt the same way.

"Oh my fucking shit."

The two of you were practically gasping for air as you broke apart a second time to see a smug-looking Sam.

"You just- I didn't interrupted something between y'all, did I?" Sam cocked a brow. "Looked like you were this close to-"

"No," you exhaled, "we weren't."

"I'm a GENIUS for fixing that speaker! If I hadn't done so you guys never would've gotten together!" Peter squealed as he appeared by the Falcon's side. "I believe a thank you is in order!"

"I hope my timing isn't bad, but I have to ask," Steve cleared his throat and looked you straight in the eye. "that was a confession, right? And you didn't do it just because you felt compelled to. Be honest with me."

You let out a sigh of defeat. "Yeah...it was."

He broke into a gorgeous, million-dollar grin that made you weak at the knees. He leaned down, lips ghosting over yours as if he was going to kiss you again - but pulled back, much to your disappointment.

"I guess I'm the victor of this battle, huh," he whispered before releasing his hold on you and walking out, leaving you to stand there utterly shell-shocked and speechless as Peter and Sam began teasing you.

#avengers imagine #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #avengers x reader #captain america imagine #captain america x reader #marvel fic #avengers fanfiction #captain america one shot #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers one shot #captain america fanfiction #steve rogers fic #captain america fic #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #chris evans fic #chris evans one shot

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pretttydemonboy · 4 years

Text

Three Little Words

A gift for @nuevasolyet bc I promised I’d write him a lil’ drabble once his finished his poster! Eskel has something important to ask Jaskier.

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“Alright, you can do this. It’s just three words. Not hard. You’re saying more words right now than you need to say to him so it’s fine.”

Eskel paced back and forth in his room, feeling like his heart was about to leap out of his throat and wasn’t that something he would never have thought himself capable of feeling. It’s not unlike drinking a dose of swallow, though it’s not accompanied by the bitter herbal taste. Instead, he keeps dragging his hand over the scar tissue on his face, oddly calmed by the feeling.

Ever since Geralt had arrived at Kaer Morhen for the winter, this time with his famed bard in tow, Eskel had been absolutely smitten. Jaskier had greeted Eskel warmly, like they were old friends, and told him he was even more handsome than Geralt had described. Eskel remembered bristling at that at first, sure that Jaskier was taking the piss, but there was nothing in those pretty blue eyes but utter sincerity.

And with an introduction like that, Eskel knew he was doomed. Jaskier made himself at home, made himself useful, and treated Eskel like he was worth something. More than that, he made Eskel start to believe it for himself.

Jaskier had made the first move too, shyly sidling up next to Eskel one evening while he sat by the hearth, absently sorting through his Gwent deck. He was pretty sure Lambert had swiped one of his prized cards, the cheat. But Jaskier’s figure suddenly hovering above him had quickly absorbed his attention, and all he could do was stammer when Jaskier had abruptly asked Eskel if he found him attractive.

From there, they’d been nigh inseparable. Sure, Jaskier still hung out with everyone, but it was Eskel’s room he retired to in the evenings now and it was in Eskel’s arms he slept. And now...winter was nearly over. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, the thought filled him with more dread than usual. He assumed Jaskier would continue on the Path with Geralt, as he’s been doing for years. And that was...fine. It was fine. Really, it was Jaskier’s choice and he was a free man and Eskel wouldn’t force him to do anything.

But he could at least ask, right? And it was just three little words. Come with me.

It should be so simple, but Eskel found himself riddled with nervous energy regardless. When he finally caught the scent of Jaskier heading towards their room for the evening, his boots tapping against the stone floor, Eskel forced himself to sit at the edge of the bed, feigning nonchalance when his bard opened the door and stepped inside.

“Oh, you waited up for me? You didn’t have to do that darling, I know you said you had a long day and were tired-”

“I lied.”

Jaskier raised an eyebrow at the same time Eskel shot to his feet. “Okay...why did you lie?”

“I needed...I wanted to think. Can we sit?”

“You were just sitting, but...of course. Eskel, is everything okay?”

Ah fuck, he was already screwing this up.

“Yes, sorry, everything is fine. I just wanted to talk to you about something.”

At that, Jaskier seemed to relax a bit and let Eskel lead him back over to the bed. Eskel reveled in the way Jaskier leaned into the simplest touch, like he craved Eskel as much as Eskel craved him. He gestured towards the bed and Jaskier sat down with a soft ‘oomph’ before moving to kick his boots off. Eskel joined him then, toeing off his own boots and settling in so that he and Jaskier were touching from shoulder to thigh.

“So? What was it you wanted to talk to me about?” Jaskier asked. Eskel opened his mouth to start, but Jaskier held up a hand and continued. “Actually I’ve been meaning to talk to you too.”

“Oh, well...you can go first.”

“No no, you should go first.”

“Please, you go.”

“No, I insist.”

“Jaskier.”

“Eskel.”

Eskel let out a breath through his nose and shook his head, unable to hide the small smile on his face. He looked at Jaskier, who honestly looked as nervous as Eskel felt, and that sight just made him sigh fondly before blurting out, “Gods, I love you.”

Time stopped. Eskel was frozen in place, jaw hanging slightly open as he tried to comprehend what he’d just said. Thankfully, not even a sudden declaration of love could keep Jaskier from talking, so Eskel had a moment to recover.

At least, until Jaskier flung himself at Eskel, pushing the larger man back on the bed and immediately peppering his face in kisses. Between each press of his lips, Jaskier spoke a single word and when they all strung together in his head, Eskel felt like his heart really was going to burst.

“I.”

Kiss.

“Love.”

Kiss.

“You.”

Kiss.

“Too.”

Kiss.

Once he’d managed to turn his brain back on, Eskel put his hands on either side of Jaskier’s face and tilted his head up to capture Jaskier’s lips in a kiss. The taste of Jaskier’s happiness was intoxicating, better than any food or drink he’d ever tasted.

“Did you mean it?” Jaskier asked when they broke apart, staring down at Eskel with those eyes that always reminded him of the clearest skies.

“I...Of course I did. It wasn’t what I was planning to say, but I meant it.”

With a small laugh, Jaskier rolled off of Eskel and allowed him to sit up. “What was it that you meant to say then?”

Eskel sat up and rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, I was going to ask if you’d come with me.”

“Come with you?”

“On the Path. I know you travel with Geralt and you’re trying to improve his reputation and all, but…” “Eskel,” Jaskier said softly, lips stretched into a bright smile. “I am a bard to all witchers. I can sing the praises of the White Wolf anywhere…”

Eskel smiled, and like every time he smiled around Jaskier, he didn’t worry about the tug of his scars. “But I think I’d like people to hear about my Wolf as well.”

#drabble #jaskel #jaskier #eskel #the witcher #fic #gift fic

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ajokeformur-ray · 3 years

Note

Hey can I get some headcanons of your relationship with your F/O parents bc y’all are such a cute family dynamic and I wanna hear more about how you all interact🥰💗

and @arianatheangelworld

asdfghjkl; omgggg~ you’re all gonna kill me asghj 🥺😭😭thank you darlings omggg ~ 🥰🥰🥰💗 I hope that you all enjoy this, it’s always so bittersweet but also so comforting and fun to explore my dynamic with my parental F/Os and, well... isn’t that the point of it all?💖 Thank you thank you thank you for supporting and enabling me omggg ~ 💙😊

Word count: 3, 184 (holy shit I am so sorry... not😂)

It’s a quiet life, but there’s lots of underlying tensions beneath it all.

By quiet, I mean because I spend my days in my bedroom studying (not so far from reality, these relationships😂) but there are underlying tensions because no one in the household knows who Edward Hyde really is - it’s a secret between my parents and I.

What that means is that it’s tricky for Papa and myself to spend time with one another if other members of the household are awake - as far as they are concerned, Father is my parent and so is Mama, and Papa has no part in that. So as you can imagine, questions would be raised if Papa and I are caught spending too much time together (plus, this is set in the Victorian Era, so you can imagine the scandal of an unmarried twenty-three year old woman spending lots of time alone in a room, unchaperoned, with a man old enough to be her father...)

This is why Papa and I only have our time together late into the night, when said members of the household have gone to bed and it’s only my parents and I who are awake. It’s safer for all of us that way - it protects Father and his name, his reputation and his career, which in turn protects the household members from being turned out onto the streets due to a lack of employment and this in turn protects Father’s family, who always come first.

From the moment I wake up, my parents are there. As you’ve probably gathered from previous posts, I sleep with my parents a lot so it isn’t unusual for me to wake up with one of them. Rare and special occasions mean that I get to wake up with Mama and either Father or Papa.

Mama’s always up by five in the morning or she’ll fall behind on her chores so if she’s the one I slept with in the night, then I’ll get up when she does. She always insists that I go back to bed and that I go to sleep, but I rarely do. I much prefer to have those early hours with her so that I can help her with her chores and maybe, if I’m very lucky... I’ll get to be the one who takes Father his breakfast tray so that I get to see him early in the morning and so that I can crawl into his bed and get me some extra cuddles before I start my day.

If I sleep in with Father, then the opposite happens and I’m woken up when he gets brought his breakfast tray (7 AM on the dot!), and of course I end up getting up when he does because even though he won’t kick me out of his bed, he also knows that if he leaves me to my own devices in a soft, warm bed, I’ll end up falling asleep until noon and then I’ll beat myself up about it, so he makes sure I am awake and up before he’s done with his breakfast (and if Mama knows I slept in with Father, she’ll bring me some breakfast too!) to save me any emotional distress.

Father always wakes me up gently... up until a certain point. He will shake me gently while saying my name, which usually gets a sleepy groan from me. Then, it’s onto talking, with his voice going from a whisper and increasing in volume until he’s just above his normal speaking level. He never raises his voice at me and we all know why. If that doesn’t work, then Father will just “accidentally” pull the covers off of me. He isn’t subtle, but he also isn’t mean about it, and if I do genuinely need some more sleep, then he will let me have that. But for the most part, he makes sure that I’m up once he is on the nights I’m in his bed.

I never ever get to wake up with Papa. It just doesn’t happen for various reasons. Firstly, because Papa’s constantly moving around like a lion stuck in a cage and he loves me dearly but not enough to stay in one place for more than a few hours unless he’s already sleeping. Secondly, because he can’t be caught in my bed or vice versa by anyone other than Mama to protect Father’s name etc. Thirdly, I may wake up to Papa crawling into my bed or easing himself in his own if I fell asleep in his bed, but I don’t ever get to start my day with Papa. Our time is night time and that has to be non-negotiable. It does upset me if I wake up in an especially needy mood, but Father and Mama will get me through the day in the meantime.

Mama likes to sneak me items of Papa’s or Father’s clothing to wear when I go to bed. She’s not supposed to but Mama is sleight of hand and I can be quick when I need to be. She and I often have silent conversations in a crowded room and all it takes is for Mama to “accidentally” make a noise, like a quick scuffing of her boot on the floor or for her knuckles to make a noise against the wooden table and I just look at her. Mama catches my eye and then gives me A Look before she turns back to her ironing. I walk past and at the point where our lower bodies are hidden by the ironing board, she stuffs an unironed shirt in my hand (usually Papa’s) and I walk off, the shirt stowed away under my arm and then placed for safe-keeps under my pillow for the night time. Sometimes it might be one of her night-dresses, but I am comfier in either Papa or Father’s clothes.

There are so many secrets between myself and my parents which are kept from the other members of the household. Between all three of us, we manage it as best as we can, though I have no doubt that the others think we're a little odd. 😊

There are periods which are weeks long where Father is so busy in his laboratory that no one sees him. It's communication .via. letters on the stairs and that's all anyone hears from him. Mama and I worry immensely but Father's always been this way and all we can do is be patient and wait for him. He's a workaholic and he often makes himself sick from all of the working and everyone in the household knows what to do when these times arise, which are getting more frequent as Father gets older.

In especially bad times, even Mama won't be able to get through to Father. I get upset if that's the case, because if he shuts away the one person he loves above all else, it's a serious warning sign. Mama and I have a pact that if she can't get through, then I will. Father is always so protective of me, and now it's my turn to protect him. I take this very seriously, understandably so, and I wait up until two or three in the morning, so late that even Mama's gone to bed and is sleeping. I wait in his study for that time, reading one of his old medical journals, and then I go downstairs, out the back door, and into the laboratory.

It's freezing in there because there's where Father used to carry out dissections and lectures back before his illness (never canonically diagnosed but it's believed to be depression or similar) got worse, so I always take him his old smoking jacket (which doubles as my blanket when I take naps in his study). By this time in the night, Father will be so tired and sleep-deprived that he's more likely to be honest with me, and it's for this reason that I also stayed up so late - Father will assume I'm unable to sleep because I'm so worried about him, and while that's true, it's also because I know him well enough to know what time of night is best for an intervention. Yes, it's slightly manipulative on my end of things, but I am my Papa's daughter and it's with good intentions so I don't linger on this thought for too long. It won't do me any good and my Father's most important. I'd do anything for him.

I find Father where I knew he would be - scribbling in a journal by candlelight, his fingers covered in ink, his hair a mess, yawning every few seconds. A cold plate of mutton is left forgotten by his elbow, only half eaten. I'm just like him when I study so I don't lecture my Father on his bad eating habits -he and I have the same work ethic so I would be a hypocrite to tell him off for something he usually tells me off for. I announce myself by putting his smoking jacket over his shoulders. Father pulls the jacket around himself with a shiver and I smile. You're welcome.

"You should be in bed, Erika." Father frowns in disapproval and I almost want to call him out on his hypocrisy.

"So should you," My tone is sharp with worry and frustration and Father takes a moment to look at me - I never speak to him like this. "Mama's really worried about you. So am I. We haven't seen Papa for weeks, and we - " Just like always, my anger turns to upset and I move away, trying not to cry.

"Erika." I turn back to my Father and I see that he has tears in his eyes, too. He's hurting and even though he's been trying to find a cure for years, he's never been able to find one which really helps him. "I am sorry, I - my work, it is. Well, let's not discuss the details." A pause. Neither of us know what to do, even when there is no one to see or hear us. "Come here." He pats his lap and I make a happy noise, which makes him smile. I love sitting on my Father's lap - it's been something I've done ever since I was a child and it always makes me feel so safe.

I go and I sit on my Father's lap (and have a quiet cry - he knows but he doesn't say anything about it because he doesn't want to embarrass me) and he continues to work, but as the hours drag on and we both get increasingly tired, Father knows that the time for working is over. On these nights when I manage to find my Father in his own mind and pull him back with just my presence (and my very existence is a reminder of what he holds most dear), I also spend the night in his bed.

"Thank you, Erika, for..." Father trails off, but I know what he's saying to me.

I snuggle into his bed, feel my Father kiss my forehead and whisper his love, and then I sleep.

The night is half the battle - getting Father to take a break tomorrow morning will be an even bigger battle, but by then Mama will be awake and we'll work together to save Father from himself.

It's not the first or the last time, but all of us in the family have our Own Moments which require special attentions and solutions, and we love each other even harder during those times.

The reunion with Papa after getting Father to take a break from his weeks of working always makes me cry, too.

Over the years, it's become almost a... tradition, of sorts, for Papa to greet me this way after a long separation.

I could be doing anything - reading in Father's study, writing in my bed, studying at my desk - and all of a sudden, out of nowhere -

"Erika."

Whispered so casually, so quietly, but my entire body freezes. I know that voice anywhere. I drop whatever I'm doing, I tear up, and I turn, slowly...

Papa's smirking at me, a cold and calculative look in his eyes, but I'm not afraid. I'm not even nervous. Anyone else would make me step back with this look, but not Papa. No.

"Oh, my - Papa!" I step forward into his embrace and I melt into the parent I've been missing most of all. I cry, of course I do, and Papa says nothing about it (he and Father aren't so different at all, once you get to know them, though I'd never tell them that. Or Mama. It's a thought I keep entirely to myself.) because he doesn't see why he should need to; he only holds me tighter.

I can almost hear his fond eye roll and it makes me smile.

"It's difficult to understand someone who is entirely incapable of asking for what he most wants, wouldn't you agree? You're the only one he listens to," our daughter.

There is pride in Papa's voice but just like always, I can hear what he doesn't say, just as he hears what I don't say. It's just how it is between us; Papa and I have a level of understanding between us which we don't have with anyone else.

That night, Papa sleeps in my bed with me. I'm never ready to say goodbye to him, or goodnight, either. The following conversation is a nightly ritual because of this:

"Just five more minutes, Papa?"

"I'll be here tomorrow night. you know that. Sleep, child."

"But - "

"Erika."

A warning. No one else receives warnings from the Edward Hyde and lives to tell the tale. So I listen.

"Fine." I know he will be with me tomorrow night. "Stay with me 'til I fall asleep?"

Papa sighs, rolls his eyes, and pointedly lays down, watching me the whole time. I couldn't hide my smile if I tried, so I don't even bother to - Papa taught me to show my emotions and to not hide them.

"Goodnight, Erika."

"'Night, Papa. Love you."

A kiss on the top of my head, and all else fades to black.

My parents and I are very physically affectionate with one another and it's... unusual, especially if you consider the fact that it's in the Victorian Era, but the members of the household find it touching. They get hugs and affection, too! Even if they don't necessarily know how to react to it, they still do get their hugs in the morning and late at night just before they all go to bed (which is between 10 and 11, whereas I go to bed anywhere from midnight to 3 AM).

If I have a nightmare or a bad dream, I am at total liberty to climb into any bed in the house, but of course I make a beeline typically for Mama's bed. She knows nightmares well and she'll simply hold me until I feel safe, and then she'll hold me some more because I get clingy and I don't like letting go. There's been times I've cried because she let me go before I was ready for the cuddle to be over (though those times were when I was much younger) so now she just lets me decide for myself when I've had enough.

With the way I sleep with my hair in two braids, I always get a mass of tangles at the back of my head. Always. I hate it and it always makes me hesitant to brush my hair, which is now midway down my back (so I can’t not brush my hair every day), because I know it’s gonna hurt me. I’ll brush the front parts of my hair and I’ll try to brush the knots out, but it hurts so I stop and I don’t want to brush my hair.

A part of me is always tempted to just leave it, but at the same time I know from previous experience that hair knots can and will get worse, so during these times I’ll take my brush to Mama. She’s always so gentle, not just with me, but also just in her nature.

She is such a tender-hearted person and I admire her so deeply for that. She’s incredibly busy so typically I’ll leave brushing my hair until the evening, when she has more time to help me. I don’t always ask her for help with my hair, so when I do, she knows immediately that it’s because I really can’t do it myself.

“Mama, there’s a - I have a knot. Can you help me?”

A small smile and she goes to get her wooden comb. It’s gentler on knots than my own hairbrush, which pulls more than it needs to, and we both know it. Mama is so gentle that it barely hurts me, and within minutes she’s done what I’ve delayed all day.

“How do you want it tonight, Erika? One braid or two?”

I fondly roll my eyes - like she needs to ask. My smile is in my voice as I ask for two, and Mama and I get to spend some time with one another quietly enjoying each other’s company.

Sometimes I return the favour by helping her brush out her hair, but she’s incredibly self-sufficient and she largely prefers to do it herself. Which is fine... I’ll find other ways to help her!😊

“Thank you, Mama.” My words are doubled up with a tight hug, and then I’m ushered off to bed because it’s late and she’s exhausted.

I technically have three parents and each one fulfills a different need for me, so all together, they meet all of my needs and I try, I try to be a daughter that they can be proud of, that they can respect and that they can love unconditionally. I try so hard every day to live in a way to honour their places in my life.

There's nothing I wouldn't do for my parents. I would die for my parents, to give them a happy ending, to give them the time to be together, but in many ways... I am that happy ending, even if things aren't perfect. It's a fight sometimes to keep secrets exactly that, but we make it work. We have to.

I tell them each and every day that I love them, I hug them and cuddle them and help them out where I can, because they deserve the world.

They are my parents and I am very grateful to and for them. They have made me who I am today and they'll be with me forever, no matter where I go or what I do or who I become. I just hope that they'll continue to walk with me for the rest of my life, because I wouldn't be alive without them... in more ways than one.

#loveletterstoledger #self-shipping #mary reilly #parental f/os #I'M CRYING OMG😭#this is OKAY TO REBLOG

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twicepinkmeup-imagines · 4 years

Text

Im Nayeon ; you can have all of my everything.

writer’s note : so this particular request truly made me interested bc Nayeon has always been written as someone confident and loud so for her to be quiet and nerdy is quite a change of scenery 🥰 i am really excited to share this with you guys so plssssss enjoy ❤️ also..... THERE WILL BE A PART TWO!!!!

warning : bc i highkey love this fic, imma surprise you guys 😚 BUT ALSO, THERE’S A LOT OF SWEARING SO BEWARE!

tips : guys i am not kidding when i say that this fic was a roller coaster of emotions so i had a LOT of songs playing while writing this 😭 but the most was Addicted To You by Ed Patrick (the title is a line from the song!!!) and Worship Instrumental by Adrian Jonathan so if u gey bebes wanna give it a listen, go ahead! So now, ENJOY THE FIC 😭💛❤️

words : 8,363 words (sis prepare yoself, it’s supa long 😭)

xoxo

She did not understand it— at all.

Im Nayeon did not understand why everyone was such a fan of Y/N Y/L/N. If Nayeon was quite honest, the former found the jock incredibly obnoxious and... messy; she was just on the complete opposite of the spectrum with her valedictorian self.

The fact that the valedictorian also grew up as neighbors with Y/N, didn’t really help her feelings towards the jock. However, they did grow up in the same neighborhood ever since preschool so they definitely knew each other more than they let on.

Y/N has never been mean or disrespectful towards Nayeon, no— instead, the jock has always been playful or kind with her, never really crossing the line with her but Nayeon always thought that Y/N was such a distraction in class, often laughing or sleeping in the back of the class.

But what truly annoyed Nayeon was that the jock always asked the valedictorian out on a date but Nayeon just knew that it was always a joke because why would the most popular girl ask a nerd out... right?

“No, absolutely not— I am not helping you study.”

Y/N looked at the valedictorian with pleading eyes as she insisted, “Please Nayeon, if I don’t pass this test, I’m off the team! The same team you watch every time that there’s a game! Come on, you’ve gotta help me out here!”

Nayeon then scoffed as she asked, “And that’s my problem, how? Y/N, this is the finals! Do you get that?? You slept through Mr. Jung’s class for the whole year and the exam’s in two weeks! Even God can’t help you-“

“Yeah, but we don’t know unless we try, right?” Y/N replied with a playful grin, earning an eye roll from the valedictorian as she continued, “Besides, I don’t trust anyone but you!”

Sincerely considering to tutor the jock, Nayeon sighed, crossed her arms and looked at Y/N before she questioned, “Give me one good reason to say yes, Y/L/N— convince me then I’ll tell you my answer.”

The jock then took a deep breath, straightened her back as she looked into the valedictorian’s eyes and simply shrugged while saying, “I will always choose you, Nayeon-ah,” Y/N admitted, her tone gentle and sincere as she clarified, “I’m sure that there are other people who are smart too but... I mean, we grew up together and I’m more comfortable with you so... I will always choose you— is that good enough of a reason?”

Nayeon saw nothing but warmth and sincerity in her neighbor’s eyes. It was something that she saw often but she has always pushed it aside because for some reason, her feelings were just so conflicting with how she thinks she feels. She keeps telling herself that she’s probably just not that keen with Y/N— but there are times where her true feelings, her hidden feelings... tells her otherwise.

Dreading to say the next words, Nayeon groaned slightly and declared, “If we’re doing this, we’re doing this my way and if I feel like you’re not putting in the effort, I’m stopping it immediately, got it?”

Grinning in satisfaction, the jock nodded as she teasingly replied, “With a tutor like you, I will always put in the effort.”

The valedictorian then rolled her eyes at the statement before she quickly turned around and was about to walk away until her wrist was held back by Y/N. Facing the jock, Nayeon pulled her hand away and quizzed, “What now, Y/N?”

“You’re hot when you’re in charge, Im Nayeon— did you know that?”

This made Nayeon groan and stomp her feet as she exclaimed, “Y/N Y/L/N! You are just so— UGH!”

Turning back around and stomping away from the jock, Y/N watched the retreating back of her neighbour as she grinned in joy and said out loud, “So, I guess I’ll see you in class?”

It was obvious that Nayeon was never going to answer but Y/N loved seeing the former’s reaction whenever the jock had flirted with her in the smallest way possible. For her, it was funny, satisfying and sorta... cute.

However, even while all of that was going on, the jock’s smile suddenly turned grim as she realized how fast her heart was beating. She knew that this wasn’t the first time her heart raced like this whenever Nayeon was around and she doubts it’ll be the last time.

“God, you are the perfect definition of a love-sick puppy... it’s disgusting.”

Smiling at the familiar voice of her best friend, Y/N turned around and was greeted with Jeongyeon’s expression of sarcastic disapproval. The latter was leaning against the lockers as she witnessed the entire ordeal between her best friend and her crush.

Walking towards her best friend, Y/N chuckled and replied, “You’re just jealous because you don’t have the balls to be honest about your feelings for Momo.”

“If that’s what ‘feeling’ looks like, I refuse to take any part in it.”

“.... And you wonder why you’re still single.”

Rolling her eyes, Jeongyeon waved dismissively as she replied, “Dude, I’m single because I want to. I’m a happy and independent woman.”

Y/N laughed as she then wrapped a loose arm around her best friend’s shoulder while saying, “You my friend, are a bunch of crap and you know it.

They then made their way to their next class as Jeongyeon scoffed in defense and fired, “Are you seriously questioning me?”

“Jeongyeon, I’m not questioning you— I’m saying it’s a bunch of bullshit and you know it.”

“You know what? I don’t have enough middle fingers to let you know how I feel right now but I’m hurt— I’m hurt, Y/N!” Jeongyeon exclaimed dramatically before she continued, “And to think you were my best friend.”

Y/N then grinned smugly at Jeongyeon before teasingly said, “You know you love me, Jeongyeonie.”

As the two of them entered their class and made their way to their usual seats, the loud greetings of their best friends filled the classroom as Dahyun teasingly yelled out, “Finally! The two satans are finally here!”

Finding the greeting funny, Chaeyoung laughed as she chimed in, “If they’re satans, then what are we??”

“We’re a lost cause.” Dahyun joked, laughing loudly with the tattoo-filled girl as she then added, “We’re not satan-enough like the both of the- ow!”

Sana instantly hit her girlfriend, Dahyun’s arm as she warned gently, “Be nice— don’t think you’re that innocent, Kim Dahyun,” She reminded playfully before immediately looking at her two best friends with a welcoming smile and asked, “Took you guys a while.”

“Well, you know Y/N; if she sees Nayeon, her whole world freezes around her and she stops functioning like the idiot she is.” Jeongyeon mocked while she took a seat next to Y/N’s assigned seat.

The jock then playfully shoved her best friend as she defended while taking a seat, “That is so not true, Yoo Jeongyeon!”

“Actually, Jeongyeon unnie has a point, Y/N,” Chaeyoung agreed with a teasing grin as she pointed out, “You act all macho and flirty in front of Nayeon unnie but the moment she’s not looking, you become so hopeless.”

“But yet, Nayeon unnie can’t stand Y/N,” Dahyun chimed in mockingly as she jokes, “How will that work?”

The girls laugh as Y/N glared at her group of friends and huffed out, “Can’t believe I have a bunch of assholes as best friends.”

“Ya! I’m not a part of this!” Sana reminded as she tried holding back a smile before she added, “I think you and Nayeon are good for each other! You guys are like the typical next-door neighbours who despise each other and then end up falling in love with one another.”

“Yeah, but for this story, it’s only Nayeon who does the despising— Y/N’s in love.” Jeongyeon playfully sang out, earning another hit on her arm from her best friend beside her.

Before Y/N or the other girls could say anything, Nayeon and her group of friends made their entrance and almost immediately, the jock’s eyes were glued on the valedictorian.

Her heart instantly began to beat a little faster than it was before and she had to constantly remind herself to calm down. Taking a deep breath and releasing shaky one, Y/N then decided to shift her gaze elsewhere while not noticing that her best friends noticed her little mishap.

“Oh dude... You are so screwed.” Jeongyeon said jokingly but had a slight sympathetic tone to it before she asked, “Are you really that into her?”

That made the other girls pay attention to Y/N as the jock looked everywhere but them while she shrugged and softly said, “I don’t know... I mean— I guess..?”

While Jeongyeon, Chaeyoung and Dahyun looked at her with slight amusement, Sana, being the hopeless romantic that she is, looked at Y/N with understanding.

“When did you realize you liked her?” Sana asked, catching the attention of the jock as Y/N looked at her before the Japanese added, “Like at which moment did you realize, ‘oh shit, I’m in love with my neighbor’... do you remember?”

Much to Y/N’s surprise, this question truly caught her off guard because no one had ever asked her before which meant that she never truly thought about it— but deep down, if she really thought about, she did know. She just never acknowledged it.

“I think I was in the 8th grade...” Y/N recalled, her expression distant and her lips forming a smile so small, anyone could miss it before she continued, “I was walking home from school and she was sitting by the porch because she was sick that day and she was listening to music with her earphones on so she didn’t notice me standing there— just observing her,” She remembered, the faint memories of that day replaying in her head as she resumed, “Then the sun was setting and when I just gazed at her under the warm-colored sky, my heart went ‘badum, badum, badum’. She was just so.... beautiful. Even with her messy bun, her runny nose and mismatched pajamas, she was just insanely breathtaking.”

Sana sighed with content as she asked softly, “Then what happened?”

“Then every time I saw her after that day, my heart just went wild,” Y/N admitted with a small smile as she concluded, “I didn’t mean to fall in love with her... it just kinda happened.”

The jock’s best friends looked at her with a mixture of amusement and also... a bit of endearment. They’ve always known that their best friend had a crush on the valedictorian but never to this extent.

They’ve always seen Y/N as someone who’s confident, loud and charming so to see their best friend being vulnerable in love, it was an unusual change of scenery.

Initially, the four girls was silent at first and at loss for words but then, Sana suddenly chimed in and said, “I don’t know why but that was so sweet, I think I might cry.”

They laughed at the Japanese’s words before Jeongyeon looked at her best friend and asked, “Dude, if you liked her that bad, why didn’t you ever tell us? I mean, I know I give you a lot of shit for looking like a love sick puppy but you’re my best friend and if you truly love her, we could’ve help you out!”

“It’s not that simple, Jeongyeon-ah,” Y/N sighed, her shoulders low and her eyes slightly joyless as she continued saying, “I mean.. this is Nayeon, we’re talking about. She’s not just any girl.”

As her friends watched her with a tinge of sympathy, they didn’t have enough time to reply with anything as their next subject teacher walked in the class.

“Good morning boys and girls, are we ready to go through your essays on ‘Catcher in the Rye’?” Tiffany Young asked, her expression bright and cheerful as she added, “And please don’t start your whining— I gave you two weeks to complete this homework.”

Like always, Y/N instantaneously brushed her emotional part aside as she groaned playfully while whining, “Miss Young, can’t we just strike a deal or something and just hand in our essays instead of embarrassing ourselves in front of the entire class??”

Jeongyeon, Chaeyoung, Dahyun and Sana were slightly amazed at how quickly Y/N changed her mood, looking at each other knowingly before Jeongyeon cleared her throat and decided to chime in while saying, “Miss, as Y/N’s legal best friend, I have to agree with her statement.”

As the class laughed, in exception of the valedictorian herself, Tiffany rolled her eyes playfully as she joked, “Why is it that every time I want the class to present something, it’s always you two that are so vocal about not doing it?”

Y/N and Jeongyeon looked at each other with knowing grins as they shrugged and the jock joked, “We’re fraternal twins, Miss. We do everything together.”

“Yeah Miss, we’re like super glue— we’re stuck with each other for life.”

Laughing a little at her students’ antics, Tiffany shook her head with amusement while saying, “Then thank God we don’t have group projects for this subject because I do not want to know what chaos you two would bring.”

In that moment, while the class was laughing at the teacher-student interaction, Nayeon was rolling her eyes from a distance.

“God, here they go again.” Nayeon huffed out as she shifted her gaze to her books on the table. “It’s not even that funny.”

Jihyo, Momo, Mina and Tzuyu looked at their best friend with raised eyebrows before Jihyo shrugged and pointed out, “I don’t know unnie, it was pretty funny to me.”

“Yeah, but you don’t hate Y/N— Nayeon unnie does.” Tzuyu reminded, a small and teasing smile on her lips.

“Is it really hate though?” Mina questioned silently as she added, “Maybe they just don’t get along that well but I don’t think Nayeon unnie hates her.”

Momo then thought about the question before she furrowed her brows and looked at Nayeon while asking, “Why do you hate her, unnie? I never really understood why.”

Nayeon sighed and leaned her elbows on her table as she breathed out admittedly, “I don’t hate her... I just— she’s just so annoying sometimes!”

“Yeah, but she’s always so nice to you.” Momo pointed out sincerely before she added, “Actually, I’m starting to think she might actually like you.”

“You know, that does make sense,” Jihyo agreed as she looked at Nayeon and said, “That would explain why she always asks you out.”

The valedictorian then looked at her best friends with complete disbelief as she exclaimed, “Y/N?? Liking me?? Ha! Cute but no.” She said as she quickly added, “The jock doesn’t like me! She’s just playing around with me because she knows I’ve never been on a date before! Besides, she probably asks a lot of girls out-“

“Nope, that’s not true, she’s never asked us before,” Jihyo pointed out with a smug smile as she also pointed out, “And I can definitely say the same for the other girls in the school because I heard from Jennie that a few girls tried to ask Y/N out but she immediately shut them down.”

“Also explains why she’s always walking you home if you agree.” Tzuyu chimed in with a shrug.

Nayeon scoffed at her best friend’s claims as she replied, “That does not justify anything and you know it— also, Y/N asked Seolhyun out before so-“

“Yeah, that doesn’t count, unnie. We were in the 4th grade!” Momo pointed out while chuckling in amusement as she asked, “And honestly, would it really be that bad if she actually did like you? She is nice to look at.”

“She’s nice too,” Mina added as she continued with, “She’s always helped me in some way or another.”

The valedictorian sighed and just shook her head as she muttered out, “I’m not saying that she isn’t nice, I’m just saying she gets on my nerves sometimes.”

“Why is that?” The four girls asked, their brows creased and their heads slightly tilted to the side.

Nayeon took a breath and released a shaky one as she shrugged once again while mumbling, “Okay, so maybe she doesn’t really get on my nerves.. it’s just sometimes she’s so obnoxious and such a clown and whenever she laughs, she has that stupid grin on her face and she snorts like an idiot and-“

Jihyo, the closest to Nayeon out of the 4 girls, looked at her best friend with interest. She had never seen the valedictorian like this before. The stuttering, the avoiding glances and the lowered head. Then within a moment, a thought came into her mind; a thought she never considered— until now. For some odd reason, it made sense to her.

“Oh my... unnie, do you actually like her?”

Nayeon looked at her best friend with wide eyes as she gasped silently and exclaimed in disbelief, “What?!”

“If it’s true, it all adds up now!” Momo exclaimed excitedly as she quickly included, “You don’t hate her— you just hate how she makes you feel all giddy and stuff!! Also, it explains why you never miss any of her basketball games!”

“Ooo, that does explain why Nayeon unnie got so annoyed at Irene unnie for asking Y/N out one time,” Tzuyu chimed in teasingly as she continued, “Nayeon unnie looked like she was going to kill someone!”

Scoffing, the valedictorian shook her head in complete bewilderment as she fired back, “Are you guys listening to yourself?? Do you know how crazy you sound right now??”

“Oh please, look at how defensive you’re being-“

Unfortunately, Jihyo didn’t have any time to complete her sentence because out of the blue, a familiar voice had cleared their throat and said, “Excuse me ladies, do you want to tell the whole class what you’re talking about?”

The four girls looked at Tiffany with wide eyes as they struggled with an appropriate response. In the end, they simply shook their heads and lowered their heads in defeat.

As the older lady walked away from them, Nayeon looked at her best friends, who simply shrugged with a smug smile, as her eyes subconsciously shifted to the one person who she’s been calling her neighbor for most of her life.

Nayeon watched as Y/N was talking and laughing with her group of friends, a small smile unconsciously forming on the valedictorian’s lips. She knew what her best friends had said was true; Y/N was nice and she knows it. Despite the frequent teasings and the witty jokes, Y/N has always taken care of her one way or another— Nayeon’s just never really acknowledged it.

Realizing she had been staring, Nayeon quickly looked away but she hadn’t noticed that one of her best friends had caught her in the act. That was until she felt a pair of eyes on her and the valedictorian turned her head so fast that she gasped as quiet as she could while she was greeted by a staring Jihyo.

Jihyo looked at the valedictorian knowingly before she sighed and pursed lips before saying, “Now you understand where I’m coming from, right?”

The thing is, Nayeon did understand where her best friend was coming from and to be quite honest, she wasn’t sure if that was the answer she wanted.

xoxo

A few days had passed and Nayeon was still as confused as ever. She kept thinking about what her best friends had said to her because ever since then, she couldn’t really see Y/N in the same light anymore.

So, maybe she does go to Y/N’s basketball game every time without fail and maybe she does get annoyed whenever someone asks the jock out on a date but in Nayeon’s belief, she’s only annoyed because every time Y/N gets asked out, the jock immediately asks the valedictorian out too! It just doesn’t make sense! .... Right?

“Nayeon-ah! Im Nayeon! Hey gorgeous, wait up!”

Halting her steps and turning around, Nayeon subconsciously squinted her eyes slightly due to brightness of the sun as she saw the familiar sight of her neighbor who was currently jogging towards her before she groaned internally in annoyance.

Still not over the ordeal that she had with her best friends, the valedictorian sighed and forced an unwelcoming smile as she breathed out, “What do you want now, Y/N?”

Noticing that her neighbor wasn’t in the greatest of moods, Y/N creased her brows slightly before she gently asked, “Whoa sweets, are you okay? Need me to shit on someone?”

“It’s just..” The valedictorian managed to mutter out before she took a deep breath, releasing a shaky one and said, “It’s nothing— what do you want, Y/L/N?”

Still sensing the tension from the girl, the jock simply shrugged and asked, “Do you... want to go grab some food on the way home?”

“And ruin my dinner? No thanks but I-“

“Well, it doesn’t have to be anything heavy; maybe some coffee or cake.”

Nayeon was curious to the sudden invite as she loosely crossed her arms and questioned, “Why?”

Y/N shrugged and gave the gentlest smile she could ever muster before she effused, “Just cause.”

“Y/N, I don’t have time for your jokes-“

“I promise you it’s not a joke,” The jock reassured with a sincere smile as she continued with, “One cup of coffee of your choice and I’ll be out of your hair.”

The valedictorian sighed as she caved, “Fine but instead of coffee, I just want hot chocolate.”

“Deal.”

“And you’re paying.”

“I was planning to but yeah, okay.”

At this point, Y/N was smiling widely in satisfaction and even when Nayeon noticed the slight reaction that her heart had, she playfully rolled her eyes before turning around once again and walking away from the jock while saying out loud, “Can we just go to that damn place already?”

The jock chuckled affectionately, finding the valedictorian adorable as she went after her. If Y/N was honest, she wasn’t really sure where to bring Nayeon for a cup of hot chocolate because the idea was rather sudden, even for her.

But even walking in silence was good enough for the jock as the both of them made their way to a diner that was nearby to their homes. As the door bell rang the moment they swung the entrance door open, both of them were internally satisfied that the diner was rather empty and not as hectic as they expected.

They then took a seat at a corner table that was by the window before a waitress came up to them and gave them the menu. Still in complete silence, Nayeon looked through the menu while Y/N... was looking right at her.

The jock was in awe at how gorgeous her neighbour looked, even without makeup and she found it even cuter that Nayeon was so focused on the menu, that her expression at that moment was just heart-melting. Y/N knew she was way in too deep with her neighbor but knowing who the valedictorian is as a person and how much they’ve grown with each other, she didn’t really care anymore.

“Why are you looking at me and not at the menu?”

Y/N widened her eyes as she realized she was caught red handed before she quickly shifted her gaze to the menu, not realizing that her staring— was making the girl opposite of her, slightly flustered. Trying her best to get over the entire situation, the jock cleared her throat before she managed to mutter out, “I-I think I’m just gonna get a milkshake.”

Nayeon noticed the slight stammer but she decided to digress as she put the menu down and sighed, “I think I’ll have the same thing.”

“I thought you didn’t want to ruin your dinner?” The jock asked teasingly, a playful glint in her eyes as a smirk formed on her lips.

“Just shut up and order our milkshakes, will you?”

That had made Y/N laugh as she nodded and mockingly said with a playful salute, “Sir, yes, sir!”

Almost immediately, the jock then placed their orders with the waitress before the milkshakes quickly made their way to the table as Y/N slurped the drink the moment the straw made contact with her lips.

At that point, Nayeon was trying her best to hold back a smile forming on her lips as she shook her head and softly muttered, “You are a child.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment, thank you very much.” The jock joked with a grin as she then added, “Also, life’s too short to be serious all the time.”

Nayeon chuckled quietly as she then quizzed, “Then are you going to tell me why did you suddenly invite me to a diner after school where we could potentially ruin our dinner and get our butts kicked by our mothers?”

“Then are you going to tell me what’s going on in that little head of yours?”

“Nothing’s wrong. I’m just stressed about finals.”

“Im Nayeon, you do remember that I know you like the back of my hand, right?”

Knowing very well that she can’t actually tell Y/N what was really bothering her, Nayeon smiled sarcastically as she crossed her arms and fired back, “You do know I care more about the finals than you do, right?”

The jock then raised her hands in defense while saying, “Fine, lets not talk about it then; I can wait.”

Nayeon then looked at her neighbor with interest as she leaned her arms on the table before she brazenly asked, “Honestly Y/N, why me?” Noticing that the jock was confused at the sudden question, the valedictorian clarified, “Why did you ask me to tutor you? You know you can get anyone to tutor you considering their crush on you so... why me?”

“Because you’re smart.”

“They’re smart too.”

“You also live right next to me.”

“You can always have them come over your house.”

Y/N then hesitated slightly, her heart racing and her mind reluctant on admitting her next words as she shrugged and softly said, “.... Yeah, but they’re not you.”

Nayeon’s breath hitched as she gazed into the sincere and warm eyes of her neighbor— the same neighbor that she’s always said she despises. Silence took over their entire conversation as the valedictorian sensed nothing but honesty from Y/N, her heart blatanly racing compared to before. Breaking their gaze, Nayeon then cleared her throat and stammered out, “Y/N, w-we should probably-“

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the jock and the mute from JYP High School. Having a little date with your girlfriend before the game with us tomorrow, Y/L/N?”

Recognizing the mocking voice, Y/N groaned and temporarily shut her eyes before she faced the source and was greeted with a boy in his varsity jacket while she forced a smile and said, “Hey Clarke, bye Clarke.”

The boy, Clarke, grinned smugly as he replied, “Aw, am I interrupting? Is that why you’ve been missing your shots on the court? Because of this mute?”

“Gee Clarke, rich coming from you considering you’ve been missing shots ever since you were on the team,” The jock fired back with a sarcastic smile as she continued with, “Your team went from number 3 to number what again? 57? Wow, must’ve really impressed the scouts.”

Obviously, this had irritated Clarke as he gritted his teeth and exclaimed, “It’s 48!”

“Yeah, that’s just so much better.” Y/N mocked, before she then concluded, “So, why don’t you go practice your 3-pointers for tomorrow and leave us in peace, hm?”

Clarke then took a few steps closer to the jock before he threatened, “How about I leave with your mute-girlfriend here and we’ll see if you like that, huh? Maybe I can try practicing my 3-pointers with her instead-“

This honestly angered Y/N as she scoffed and stood up, going face to face Clarke who was understandably a few inches taller than her as she rebuked, “You really want to try me, my dude? Really?”

The boy was unfazed as he smirked and sneered, “Maybe your mute here has some tricks up her sleeve-“

Not wanting to hear the entire sentence, Y/N interrupted Clarke by shoving him so hard that he stumbled a few steps back as she hissed, “You’re really starting to piss me off, 57; you better watch it.”

Clarke was no longer smirking as he exclaimed, “I told you it’s number 48!!”

Y/N was about to jab another insult towards the boy before she felt a warm hand tugging hers as she turned her head slightly and was greeted with a worried Nayeon who whispered, “Don’t waste your time on him, come on, let’s just go home.”

The jock could feel her anger slowly dissipating as she took a deep breath and released a shaky one while nodding before she left the amount due on their table and looked back at Clarke with a glare, “You better watch your back, Clarke boy. Try doing this well on the court tomorrow then maybe we’ll talk.”

Y/N then gently grabbed Nayeon’s hands as she dragged the both of them out from the diner with many eyes on them. On the way home, the jock had released the valedictorian’s hand but was still heaving in anger as she couldn’t believe that she didn’t manage to stop Clarke from saying such inappropriate things about Nayeon.

The thought of him sexually harassing Nayeon like that, truly made the jock’s blood boil in pure anger and hatred and the valedictorian noticed that. She then realized that since they were already in front of their houses, she slowly and gently grabbed Y/N’s wrist, halting their movements as they both faced each other before the valedictorian cooed, “Hey, stop thinking about that idiot, he’s not worth the stress; I’m fine, see?” She reassured while raising both her hands and adding, “No scratch, no nothing.”

The jock sighed and shook her head in disapproval as she ranted, “But he still shouldn’t have said those things! God, if I could just punch-“

“No, Y/N, that would not help the entire situation at all; if anything, it would put you at a disadvantage and he gets to watch you get in trouble instead.” Nayeon reasoned, unconsciously taking a step closer as she also added, “You’re better than that— I know you are.”

Y/N’s breathing became calmer at the sight of Nayeon’s brown eyes, her heartbeat not as rapid as it was before, which she then released a deep sigh and nodded in response.

Knowing that the jock probably isn’t in any mood to say anything, Nayeon smiled affectionately and rubbed her arms while saying, “Why don’t you go get a good night’s sleep and not worry about it anymore? You do have a big game tomorrow and you can show Clarke the way a game should be played.”

The jocked gave a small smile as she nodded before she watched Nayeon take a step back and make her way to her own house. Right before the valedictorian was about to go inside her house however, Y/N called out and asked, “You’ll be at the game, right? Like always?”

Nayeon nodded with a warm and gentle smile as she reassured while teasing, “I may find you annoying at times and there are days where you make me want to just hit you repeatedly but yes, I’ll definitely be there— like always.”

“Then you’ll let me take you on that date that I’ve been asking for?”

The valedictorian chuckled in slight disbelief as she shook her head with a small but visible smile before she turned around and sarcastically said out loud, “Good night, Y/N.”

“Good night, Nayeon.... sweet dreams.”

xoxo

Y/N was always nervous before a game but today— she was both angry and nervous.

After her encounter with Clarke yesterday, she tried her best to get over it but the words kept replaying in her head and she hated it. She didn’t manage to tell any of her best friends about what had happened, since she refused to let it distract her even more.

That being said, her teammates knew that every time before a game, Y/N usually goes quiet as she tries to get into the right mindset but today, they noticed that she was extra quiet.

“Yo, Y/N!” Her teammate, Jackson Wang called out as he added, “Someone’s here for you!”

Confused to who it might be, the jock made her way to the locker room door as she was then greeted with an awkwardly smiling Nayeon, who adorably waved at her while one of her hands was behind her back. Y/N smiled with creased brows as she questioned, “Nayeon? What are you doing here?”

The valedictorian then revealed a small gift in the form of Reese’s peanut butter cups as she softly said, “I just wanted to give you these... for good luck.”

To anyone, the chocolates may have a small meaning but to Y/N, they meant a lot more. This was a part of her memory growing up with Nayeon, that she will forever cherish and she couldn’t help but get a little emotional about it.

Y/N smiled warmly at the girl as she said, “I can’t believe you remembered... you always gave me these on my birthday growing up.” She then teased affectionately, “Be careful sweets, some may say you’re getting soft on me. You might ruin your reputation.”

“Maybe I am... but is it wrong of me to say that I don’t really care anymore?”

Nayeon was getting soft on Y/N and she wasn’t going to deny it this time— not anymore. After what had happened last night, she spent the whole night thinking about her feelings and dissecting how she truly felt about the jock. She wasn’t really sure how she came to the conclusion, but all she knew was that she was tired of denying it any longer.

Maybe it was after she realized that she couldn’t stop thinking about Y/N last night and wondered if the jock was going to be okay. Maybe it was because she was worried that Y/N was going to blame herself for an idiot’s fault. Maybe it was because she finally realized that she liked Y/N more than she originally thought she did.

Y/N could only stare at the valedictorian with wide eyes, dropped jaw and hitched breath as she truly struggled to respond. Her heart was racing and her body was getting warmer by each second which meant that the jock knew that her cheeks were increasingly getting redder each time.

Nayeon, however, found it cute and she chuckled quietly as she took a step forward and brazenly hugged Y/N, her arms going around the jock’s waist while she gently muttered, “Good luck tonight, Y/L/N. If everything goes well tonight, then I’ll think about that date you’ve been annoying me about.”

The jock didn’t have enough time to respond as Nayeon then released her grip and smiled shyly before she turned around and left soon after. By now, Y/N knew her cheeks were definitely red and she even placed a hand over her racing heart because she was in complete disbelief at what just happened. Followed by slight teasings from her teammates, the jock’s temporary bliss had to be cut short when they were asked to make their entrance to the court.

With her nerves slightly better after her short interaction with Nayeon, Y/N looked around the court and connected her eyes with a smirking Clarke, which automatically made her anger spike up instantly. Nonetheless, the jock refused to mess up the momentum in her head, as she quickly broke the eye contact and searched for a familiar face in the crowd. The moment her eyes had landed on Nayeon, Y/N instinctively smiled as she gave a small wave towards the valedictorian.

In the stands, as Nayeon was waving back with a small grin of her own, her best friends were watching with wides eyes from the side and they could not believe at what they were seeing. Jihyo, on the other hand, was smiling with endearment and it was because she knew the struggle that her best friend had to go through for the past few days regarding her feelings towards the jock considering Nayeon had called her up every night about it.

Then with a blink of an eye, the buzzer rang and the game began.

Both sides of the stands were full of both home and away supporters, the former being naturally louder as the game was being held at JYP’s court. The game began smoothly and cordially, with the usual bad-mouthing from the away team as everyone’s eyes were locked on the court. Initially, JYP was leading the game with 3 points after Amber Liu had managed to score a 3-pointer before the half time buzzer rang.

Now, with the points at 76 for JYP and 73 for the away team, the tension was finally getting to them. With only 15 minutes on the clock, Y/N knew that she had to score a few more to secure the team’s victory for tonight’s game. The jock was about to shoot her 3 -pointer until she was strategically blocked by Clarke himself, as he chuckled mockingly before saying, “Hey Y/L/N, how about we make a deal?” He said as Y/N continued to ignore him as he added, “How about I get to spend the night with your precious mute if I win this game and I’ll tell you how she tastes?”

Like a volcano erupting, Y/N simply halted her movements, earning gasps from the crowd as her face formed an angry expression before she exclaimed, “What did you say to me?!”

Both teams immediately stopped their movements as they made their way to the two players before both Jackson and Amber held Y/N back while Clarke was pushed away by his own teammates while mocking, “I said.... let me spend the night with your girlfriend and I’ll tell you how she tastes-“

“You son of a bitch!”

Unfortunately, the hit came a lot quicker than anyone could’ve expected and almost immediately, chaos erupted. Breaking through the human barrier of both Jackson and Amber, Y/N managed to land a punch on the jawline of Clarke’s face. The moment he fell on his back, groaning in pain as he held his jaw, the boy then stood up before he charged at the jock and managed to land a punch on her face too, but this time, on her cheek instead before he landed another punch on her eye.

Completely angry now, Y/N then shoved him as he fell down before she landed a few more punches. The fight had no upper hand fighter but it was clear to anyone there, that it was a fight that was not going to end anytime soon. The coaches of both teams then groaned in anger before they ran towards the group of chaos as they too tried to stop the fight from progressing any further. They then pulled the two bloodied-up teenagers apart as both teams held back the two players who were still mouthing off insults with their bloodied lip.

“That’s enough! Cut it out!” The JYP coach had warned as he stood in the middle between the two teenagers.

Nayeon and the rest of the girls, including Y/N’s own group of friends, had watched the fight go down and immediately rushed their way to the court before the valedictorian pushed her way through the crowds to get to the jock. After getting to the centre of the entire fight, Nayeon gasped and covered her mouth in shock as she witnessed Y/N being held back by her teammates while her face was completely bloodied up. Her left eye was bruised, her lips was busted and the amount of blood on Y/N’s jersey made the valedictorian’s breath hitch.

Making her way towards the jock, Nayeon immediately blocked Y/N’s view of Clarke as she then grabbed the jock’s face with both of her hands while her eyes quickly scanned the injuries on her face. The moment Y/N’s eyes were locked on Nayeon’s brown eyes, the jock chest heaved as she struggled to breathe out, “N-Nayeonie? I-Is that y-you?”

Her heart breaking at the sight of her beaten-up neighbor, Nayeon held back her angry tears before she tried her best to muster a weak smile as she nodded and reassured, “Yes, Y/N, it’s me, I’m here-“

“I-I’m sorry, I s-shouldn’t have punched him but he just kept-“

“It’s okay, Y/N, it doesn’t matter now,” The valedictorian reassured before she placed the jock’s arm around her shoulders as she said, “I’m gonna get you checked, okay?”

While the two teams were still going at it with each other after what had happened, Nayeon prioritized the girl in her arms as she guided her to the school’s infirmary with their group of friends following right behind them. Understandably, the group was completely silent when the nurse was checking Y/N’s injuries, as she too was shaking her head in disbelief in the slight severity of it all.

“Is it that bad?” The valedictorian reluctantly asked, her voice shaky and laced with worry as she added, “Do I need to call her parents?”

The nurse sighed as she shook her head while saying, “Other than a black eye and a busted lip, she’s fine... but that said, her eye is bruised up pretty bad so she should let it rest for a few days until it swells down.”

Nayeon nodded before she helped Y/N stand on her feet as she wrapped one of the jock’s arm around her shoulders again. With Jeongyeon on the other side, they all made their way to Nayeon’s car which could only fit a few of them. In the end, besides Nayeon and Y/N, Jeongyeon, Jihyo and Chaeyoung decided to tag along as they all made their way to the jock’s house. During the drive, the valedictorian constantly glanced at the jock, who fell asleep during the ride.

“I swear if I see that Clarke kid again, he’s not gonna hear the end of it.” Jeongyeon gritted, her eyes angry and her expression in pure resentment.

“Don’t you worry, we’ll all be there too.” Jihyo chimed in, glancing at her driving best friend who was clearly stressing out right now.

The rest of the drive was quiet, everyone was processing tonight’s events as they all tried to calm each other down through the silence. Once they’ve arrived at Y/N’s house, they were surprised to see the jock’s parents standing by the front porch with a blatant expression of worry. The moment the car halted, Y/N slowly woke up as her father helped her out of the car and straight into the house before the jock’s mother looked at the group of girls in front of her and automatically asked, “What happened tonight?? I got a call from the coach and said that Y/N was driven home due to an injury!”

The other girls simply glanced at Nayeon to explain as the latter was most familiar with the mother of two before the valedictorian revealed, “She got into a fight with a boy from the other team but I promise you, Mrs. Y/L/N, Y/N did nothing wrong! He kept on provoking her since yesterday!”

Mrs. Y/L/N sighed and nodded knowingly as she admitted, “Yes, I know, she told me about it yesterday but I didn’t know it was this bad,” She muttered before she looked at the three girls with a sad smile while replying, “Thank you girls for your help but I think Y/N should probably rest for the night and you guys should probably get on home; I don’t want your parents to start worrying too.”

“Can we come over tomorrow?” Chaeyoung asked sheepishly as she scratched the back of her neck before she added, “We’ll just hang out with her or something.”

“Of course sweetie, you’re all welcome to come over tomorrow, especially after all of your help tonight,” The older woman mentioned before her eyes shifted to Nayeon and she continued to say, “And thank you, Nayeon; thank you for always being there for our Y/N.”

Trying her best to hold back her tears, Nayeon nodded in response as Mrs. Y/L/N made her way back into the house as the four of them simply stood in the driveway, somehow dazed in mixed emotions.

When the next day came, Nayeon quickly decided to stop by Y/N’s house after school and hoped that the jock was feeling better than last night. Knocking on the door, Nayeon was then greeted by Chaeyoung. The sight surprised her but she did notice that besides the jock, Y/N’s group of friends weren’t around at school today.

“Oh hey, Nayeon unnie.” Chaeyoung greeted simply as she chewed on a strawberry-flavored licorice vine before she added, “How was school today?”

“Uh, fine?” Nayeon answered awkwardly as she questioned, “Where were you and your friends? I only saw Sana and Dahyun but even they disappeared after 3rd period.”

“Oh, Jeongyeon unnie and I skipped to spend the day with Y/N, then Sana unnie and Dahyun unnie decided to hang out too but the three of them just left for a double date; wanna come in? Y/N’s showering but she should be done soon.”

The valedictorian then made her way inside, closing the front door in the process before she asked, “Where’s Mrs. Y/L/N? Is it only the both of you at home?”

The baby cub nodded before she revealed, “Mr. and Mrs. Y/L/N are at school right now, to have a meeting with the principal regarding about what happened last night and baby Heeyeonie is sleeping upstairs.”

Nayeon nodded instinctively in acknowledgement before she quietly asked, “How is she? Did she talk about what happened?”

“She’s still pissed at Clarke for sure but she’s healing pretty well. Don’t tell her this but she’s a complete wuss when it comes to her medication— it took Jeongyeon unnie and I nearly an hour to just get her to apply some ointment on her eye and lips.”

Before Nayeon could even reply, a familiar and raspy voice intervened as steps down the stairs were heard.

“Chaeyoung, who in the world are you talking to-“

Both the valedictorian and the baby cub turned their heads facing the stairs where they were then greeted with a freshly-showered Y/N. The jock looked at valedictorian with raised brows as she rasped out, “Nayeonie? Did school end already?”

Sighing in complete relief at the sight of her neighbor, Nayeon released a happy sob as she ran towards Y/N before she carefully but tightly wrapped her arms around the jock’s mid-torso. Pressing her face against her neighbor’s collarbone, the valedictorian softly sobbed out, “I am so glad to see you; you nearly scared me to death, you asshole! Even your jersey was nearly covered in blood last night!”

To say Y/N was surprised was an understatement— the jock was at loss for words as she tried to wrap her head around the fact that Nayeon was hugging onto her like dear life. Slowly wrapping her own arms around the valedictorian, the jock sighed in content as she softly cooed, “...I’m getting better now, I promise.”

“Don’t you dare say that to me,” Nayeon warned affectionately as she pulled away slightly to look at Y/N before she added, “You had no idea how bad it was last night.... I was scared, Y/N.”

Looking straight into Nayeon’s glossy eyes, Y/N could feel the sincerity of her words and how they only emitted warmth, affection and care. She was in complete awe by the girl in her arms as she reassured her with a gentle tone, “I’m right here, Nayeon-ah... I’m with you.” She then wiped the fallen tears from the valedictorian’s cheeks as she whispered, “I’m not going anywhere.”

The valedictorian’s lips then unconsciously formed into an adoring smile as she muttered, “Hey, Y/L/N?”

“Hm?”

“Take me on that date.”

Y/N smiled widely at the statement before she nodded and beamed softly, “Best idea ever, sweets.” She teased lightly as the jock then continued, “Hey, Nayeon? Can I ask you another favor?”

Nayeon grinned teasingly as she joked, “Is me saying yes to the date, not enough for you?”

“It is, but I have one more thing to ask and I’ve been thinking about this since the 8th grade,” The jock admitted before she took a deep breath, releasing a shaky one as she quietly asked, “.... Can I kiss you?”

The valedictorian’s breath hitched as she quickly responded, “Y-You wanna be... my first kiss?”

Nodding, Y/N smiled and whispered, “If you’ll have me.”

Gathering all her courage, Nayeon slowly leaned her head as the jock did the same, not long before their lips had finally made contact and the scent of jasmine from Y/N, had filled the valedictorian’s nose. They shamelessly continued to kiss, their lips suddenly becoming addictive to one another as they smiled into each and every kiss.

Pulling away gently, the couple smiled at each other with endearment as Nayeon shyly asked, “...Does this mean I get to have your kisses now?”

Y/N chuckled at the adorable question as she nodded while slowly leaning before she whispered, “Sweets, you can have all of my everything.”

As the couple connected their lips once again, a certain cub was watching the entire scenario unfold in front of her eyes as her jaw dropped and she gasped in surprise. Covering her mouth to silence the gasp, Chaeyoung hurriedly took out her phone and clicked on Jeongyeon’s number before she heard the familiar ringing sound.

Not long after, the call was picked up and Jeongyeon hurriedly asked, “Chaeng? What’s wrong? Is something wrong with Y/N??”

Quietly making her way to the kitchen to continue conversation, Chaeyoung marveled, “Unnie, you cannot believe what just happened-“

“Chaeng, if it’s not about Y/N, can we talk later? I’m sorta with Momo right now-“

The baby cub groaned slightly as she quickly yelled through a whisper, “Nayeon unnie and Y/N just kissed!”

“..... The two love birds did what?!”

#twice imagines #twice scenarios #twice drabbles #twice reactions #twice imagine #twice scenario #twice drabble #twice reaction #twice nayeon #jyp twice #twice #nayeon #im nayeon

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ragnarachael · 4 years

Text

Joyride

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: You're heading back to your apartment after a game night at a friend's place when you encounter Loki for the first time since his invasion in 2012.

Author’s Ramblings: hi!! this is my entry for @gingerwritess writing challenge! congrats on 4k!!! 💖 (i hope it’s okay i’m only like 100 and some odd words past 2k,, apparently i couldn’t make it less than that for the life of me)

Warnings: talks of Shakespeare’s Coriolanus! (it’s nothing too graphic, if i’m being honest. and yes, blame National Theatre Live for this), reader is kinda hesitant in the beginning about Loki bc of the whole “take over NYC” thing. that’s really all i can think of for warnings!

LOKI TAGLIST: @sadwaywardkid

MASTERLIST ! FEEDBACK ! AO3 LINK !

You saw him on the A Train. You noticed his lithe form when you took a minute to glance up from your book.

Him as in the one who took New York in his clutches momentarily back in 2012 while you were in the middle of a shift at the coffee shop you used to work at that was just near the main spot of action. Loki.

It was only the two of you on this train at this time of night. You were heading back home to your apartment where your dog would most likely be sleeping on her assigned side of the bed, passed out after trying to wait up for you. Your friends hosted a game night and insisted you had come.

And you kicked ass in Scrabble, Life—Spongebob Edition, you remembered picking Squidward as your token to play the game—and even Cluedo.

And you never won Cluedo.

You were proud of yourself. Three wins on one game night is better than nothing. Usually, you’re a sore loser every time you’re invited over.

It seemed like everything was going your way tonight.

Until you caught Loki studying the cover of your book as you read.

After you finished your last book on the train on the way to work, you decided to shove your worn copy of Coriolanus in place and never bothered to take it out. So naturally, that was your reading material of choice tonight as you waited for the final stop.

“May I help you?” You questioned, glancing up at the God that sat across from you. When he didn’t reply, you tried to direct your attention back to the book pages, rereading the huge section you had just skipped over

You heard him shift, which made you look up at him again. However this time, you maintained eye contact.

What do you say when a murderer is looking at your book late at night on your train back home? You didn’t want to end up dead by the end of this interaction. You had a life to carry on with. Manuscripts to finish, your dog to take care of, your parents to mildly ignore when they tell you how you should be living.

Not dead on the A Train after being slain by Loki, the God of Mischief.

He seemed like he was in a trance when he apologized quietly.

That was... odd.

“I.. I’m sorry, I couldn’t help but notice the author’s name on the cover of your book,” he spoke up, finally leaning back on the seat as the train started to go in the direction of the third to last stop for the night. “Shakespeare, if I’m not mistaken?”

“Yes,” you said hesitantly, fighting the urge to look at the cover yourself to make sure that it was Shakespeare, even though you knew exactly what it was. “Another tragedy.”

“May I ask which? The title seems to be scratched off.”

You could feel your face heating up at his words. He noticed that? Now that you thought about it, it made sense that he was staring so long for the title.

“It’s uh, Coriolanus. Roman soldiers and stuff. Right up your alley if you think about it,” you said, your eyes darting back to the pages you were permanently stuck on. You didn’t want to see his reaction when he figured out you knew him.

Loki seemed stunned at your reply for assuming such. It’s not like you had been wrong. You did some research on Asgard a while after 2012 and learned a thing or two about their politics.

Quite Roman-esque in your unprofessional opinion.

He seemed to mull it over for a moment before letting a chuckle out. “It appears you may be right, darling.”

Darling.

That made chills run up your spine. Not... not in a bad way, though. You wouldn’t mind him calling you that again, as a matter of fact.

The conversation was cut by the screeching breaks of the train. You both braced yourselves in your seats so you didn’t slide with gravity as the train finally got to a stop, reaching the third to last station.

The doors opened for no one, and waited.

There was some sort of silence you couldn’t decipher as the doors waited for no one to arrive. You turned the page to your book, pretending to be reading. Your mind was still replaying the words Loki said.

Mainly darling, but that's besides the point.

Eventually, the doors closed and the train was back to moving. Loki was back to looking at your book cover, and you actually got pulled back into the script.

Until you were interrupted again.

“Why is your copy in such poor quality?”

Loki’s voice was like velvet as he started to take interest in you again.

“I’ve had it for a long, long time.”

That answer seemed enough for him. You started to reread a line of Volumnia’s when he continued speaking.

“Could you tell me more about it?”

You wanted to hold yourself back, you really did. Maybe he had some kind of motive to do something bad? You don’t know if he’s turned good. He could still be the same man he was in 2012. Regardless of your thoughts running wild, you awkwardly scooted a bit subconsciously to make more room for Loki to sit next to you. That’s when you knew it was game over.

You told him about the plot in deep, deep detail. You spoke about each character as if you had written this play yourself. It was, after all, one of your favorites that you’ve been reading since your senior year of high school.

Loki sat and listened intently, drinking in your unabashed excitement as you recounted everything that happens in this play; it was as if you had actually been in Rome when the play was set.

He found it endearing. Most mortals were not passionate like you were about literature—or anything period. But, on the other hand, Loki hadn’t talked to many mortals since his deal with the Avengers granted him his freedom.

Another thing he found interesting, he could listen to you talk about Shakespeare for hours.

Loki had only read some of the cliché plays that were written. Romeo and Juliet, Hamlet, Twelfth Night. They all grasped his attention and he read them thoroughly when he had the time. But there seemed that in this moment, there was nothing quite like Shakespeare’s Coriolanus.

The train ride was less excruciating once you were talking. You found that Loki was actually well educated and not as much of an asshole as he seemed. Loki found you even more attractive than he had when he stepped into the train car.

You were in the middle of passionately explaining Volumnia’s relationship with her son when the train came to a stop again, announcing the last stop.

Neither you or Loki wanted this to end.

“I—I’d love to keep going,” you started, suddenly realizing you spent so much time speaking, “but this is my stop.”

The usual dialogue came from the speakers as the doors wheezed open. Loki stood up from his seat with you as you gathered your things, your book in hand.

“I fear this may be too forward,” he started, suddenly feeling nervous. “But may I walk you home?”

Never in your years of living did you expect to be asked by the man who took New York in his clutches to be walked home in the dead of night.

And never did you think you’d say yes.

The two of you fell in step as you walked out of the subway car, silent as you took in the emptiness of the subway station.

It was peaceful. A small part of the city that somewhat slept. You realized that you were less tense than when you started this journey, and smiled small as both you and Loki took the steps two at a time to reach the surface.

Both of you made it onto the sidewalk before you realized something.

“You know,” you started carefully once your bag was secured on your back, “you don’t need to walk me back. I’m sure you have a curfew or... or something—“

“Darling, I assure you, I’m not needed back at the tower.” Loki gripped your hand gently to pull you to a full stop on the sidewalk now. “I’d much rather hear your passion for this work than hear my brother drone on about his lover.”

For some reason, that confession combined with his touch made your breath hitch. His hand felt as if it wasn’t warm, but not cold either. It was like the perfect temperature.

Suddenly your mind wondered what it would feel like to be held in his arms. You were quick to wipe away that thought by blinking up at Loki, furrowing your brows together.

“Are you sure? Sounds much more invigorating, hearing about someone’s dating life rather than being told about a Roman soldier in depth.”

“I am positive,” Loki chuckled in reply. “Your knowledge on this play is far better than any mortal’s. Almost as if you had studied with the Bard himself.”

You felt your face heat up from the compliment, and decided to keep your hand locked in his as you started to walk down the sidewalk again.

“Flattering gets you nowhere, Loki.”

“I’m merely speaking the truth!” His voice sounded like he was accused of something like a child. This made you laugh. You just shook your head to dismiss the subject

“So, back to Volumnia and how she’d rather her son die in battle than live a life of shame?”

“Please. I’m all ears.”

The walk back to your apartment was quicker than you expected as you broke down the rest of the play. And for once, you didn’t want to sleep. You wanted to stay up and keep talking to Loki. You didn’t care about the time or the place, you wanted to keep talking.

Even if you’ve exhausted your extensive knowledge on this play.

You and Loki stood in front of your apartment building, laughing at a small joke you had made about Caius Marcius yearning to fight Aufidius during an important meeting.

The blanket of silence between you two was comfortable. You noticed Loki’s gaze seemed soft. Almost... loving. You tried to ignore it, but he seemed so smitten in this moment. The moonlight hit his face just right which made you swoon internally when you saw just how handsome he could be in the different lighting of the night.

“I really should get going,” you sighed, letting the heel of your hand gently rub at your eye. “I’ve got work tomorrow.”

Loki shifted his weight on his feet, seeming just as dejected as you. It was nice knowing you both didn’t want this night to end.

“I’d like to see you again, if that—“

“Yes,” you cut him off instantly, looking up into his eyes. It was like a trance. You admittedly loved every second of it.

He chuckled at your sudden response. Minutes, maybe even hours ago, you two had wanted nothing to do with each other.

And yet here you both stood, smitten in conversation, dancing around the harsh reality that you’d have to carry on with your lives after you stopped talking.

You licked your dry lips slowly, a smile settling across your features before repeating yourself again. “Yes please.”

Loki smiled back at you before nodding. Neither of you knew what to do from here. It seemed as though goodbyes weren’t your forte.

You fumbled for a moment, almost as if you were getting your keys from your bag.

Which you were doing, Loki realized. Getting your keys. And a pen, it seemed. You were quick to bite the plastic cap off before opening to the first page in your copy of Coriolanus and writing.

Loki tried to see what you had written, but you were far too fast. By the time he tried to get a closer look, you were done writing and capped the pen before closing the book and passing it over to him.

“A reason to see me again.”

You sounded breathless, as if you had just ran into him on the street and dropped everything onto the ground. Loki felt his heart speed up momentarily before taking the book carefully.

“I already had a reason, darling.” Loki’s smile knocked the breath right out of you before he stepped a little closer to get in your personal space, reaching for one of your hands. You weren’t sure as to what he was doing until his long, gentle fingers were grabbing your own and lifted it up to press a kiss to your knuckles.

You were blushing. You were certain of it.

You said your final goodnights for the night, Loki patiently waiting until you were in the lobby of the building to actually take his leave with your book.

#gingers4kwc #loki x reader #loki odinson x reader #loki odinson #loki odinson imagine #loki laufeyson imagine #loki laufeyson x reader #loki laufeyson #marvel #marvel writer #marvel imagine #marvel fanfiction #rachael writes #mcu imagine #mcu x reader

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randomoranges · 3 years

Text

last year [hahaha chuis tellement drôle], i was having a conversation with a friend and we were like omg teddy’s aesthetic is totally like boudoir! so then i went down the rabbit hole of looking at photos for inspiration and found this one and i was like oh my lord this is such a teddy thing but i left it at that.

then this morning i was like wow amazing an idea that can go with the image!!!! so i decided to make the super wrong and traced art and spent too many hours on it bcs obvs tracing only takes minutes.

then as i was making the not actually art i kept thinking of the idea from this morning but it didn’t work as well so i thought of something else and merged the two ideas together.

it feels like i spent the entire day on this haha

and then i realised there is also still a reference to michel tremblay hidden in this without even trying.

there are so many - layers - hahaha to this.

it’s nsfw. ish.

Veils

Edward’s relieved when he makes it to the club. He hasn’t been able to come in a few weeks time, due to work, a conference and the likes and he’s looking forward to sitting back and unwinding. He also hasn’t seen Teddy since his last visit and he finds himself hoping they’ll be able to catch up before, during, after, or post-show. He tries to will his cheeks not to warm too much at the thought of the other person, but it’s a little bit hard to do.

They’ve been – well, seeing each other is not the right term for it, but Edward has rather liked the few times they’ve slept together so far and that one memorable brunch the day after. Yet, there’s nothing official between them and Edward really isn’t sure if he wants a relationship at the moment. Still, the sex has proven to be good and the company better yet. He likes to think they’re at least friends, but they haven’t really seen each other outside of the bedroom or the club.

He pushes the door open to the club and he’s first surprised to see a – bouncer type person at the door. He wonders if this is a new norm and what could have prompted the change from the usual cheery fellow who greets the patrons, but his musings are cut short when he’s spoken to.

“Invitation?” The burly type asks and Edward is taken aback for a moment.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know – is there a private event here tonight?” He never bothers to check the website for the schedule and usually just pops in when he feels like it, but this, is new.

“Yes. Invitation only. Come back later.” The man says curt and to the point. Edward doesn’t want to cause any trouble and feels like this man won’t hesitate to escort him out if needed, so he’s about to apologise and leave, when Paul appears seemingly out of nowhere and comes to his rescue.

“He’s good, Bruno; he’s a regular and the boss has him on the list.” Paul says as he claps Bruno on the back. Bruno doesn’t seem pleased by the gesture, but Paul seems oblivious to it all.

Edward has no idea who the boss is and what list Paul is talking about, but if it means he gets to enjoy the private event, he won’t necessarily complain or mind.

Bruno grunts and reiterates something about the list, but when Paul insists, he’s escorted inside by the bartender and brought over to coat check.

“I’m glad you’re here; Teddy’s put me on door duty until you arrived.” Paul says as a way of explanation that does nothing to clear up the many questions Edward has.

“How did any of you know I was coming? And what’s this private event all about?”

“You come here often enough; they figured maybe you’d drop by today. As for the event; it’s something a little different – a once in a lifetime performance, really, so you’re very lucky to have stopped by! Very selective and very VIP, if you catch my drift. You’ll see in a bit,” Paul grins, mischievous as ever and Edward wonders what exactly he’s stepped into, but the curiosity in him only keeps growing. “Oh, you’ll have to check in your phone as well. No recordings whatsoever; performer’s request.”

Edward notices the little locker type add-on in the coat-check and fishes out his phone. He hands it over to the person in charge of the check-in and he’s given back a key. At least, he tells himself, no one should abscond with his phone.

“Anyways, now that you’re here, I suggest you grab a seat. Bon show!”

And with that, Paul is gone and Edward makes his way to the heart of the club to find a seat. The atmosphere is muted and the sitting capacity has been reduced to a third. Most of the spots are already filled, but he manages to find himself a seat at the far back. The tables have been dressed in dark velvet tablecloths and each have a trim of sparkly jewels that shine when the lights hit them. It’s quite different from the usual decor and Edward wonders if this is some new event the club is trying out. In all the time he’s been attending, he’s never even heard of such an event. He looks around for a pamphlet or poster of sorts that might give him a clue, but there’s nothing of the sorts.

Therefore, he patiently waits for the show to start and takes in the other carefully chosen guests around him. He recognises a few other familiar faces he’s seen over his many visits, but other than that, everyone seems as equally unknowing as he does and he wonder what the criteria was to be part of the audience.

Finally, the lights are dimed down and a hush falls over the gathered crowd. Edward expects the usual introduction to follow suit, but instead, the room fills with sultry jazz music of sorts. It starts a little slow and picks up as the curtains part to reveal a figure, back to the crowd, illuminated softly, standing on center stage.

As the light grows stronger and the figure starts moving, liquid movements that make it seem effortless and easy, despite the stiletto heels, Edward takes in the multiple layers of fabric that are draped elegantly and expertly over the figure and that play to create different effects when they hit the light. They almost seem like veils of sorts, all in the palest of colours, maybe even white, and that shimmer when the person moves.

It takes Edward a while for his mind to fully register what it is he’s seeing, as the music keeps playing and the person on stage keeps moving, dancing and performing. This is different from what Club 1642 usually puts on, but he’s intrigued and enthralled and doesn’t mind the change.

Finally, it’s when they turn around that Edward gasps as he recognises exactly who it is. The tattoo might be partially covered by fabric, but he’s traced every branch and ever petal with delicate fingers and pressed hot kisses to every curve of the vine. His hands have carded, as well as tugged, on those curls numerous times now and he knows the feel of those lips on every inch of his body.

Still, he forgets how to breathe for a moment, ever still, and drinks in the sight before him.

Teddy stands before them all, as they take ownership of the stage, stepping from one place to the other, the lights following them, as they wrap their wrists around the first layer of veils and make it twirl around them. The veil, embedded with subtle crystals, shimmers and shines for a moment, before Teddy whirls around as the pace of the music picks up and the veil is then let go of and flutters for a moment, before falling, motionless, to the floor by their feet.

For as long as they have known each other, for as many times as they have spoken; late night conversations and early morning murmurs, Edward had never known that Teddy performed.

But – he supposes there are still secrets about him that Teddy doesn’t know either.

Regardless, Edward is left breathless as Teddy continues their dance of many veils and he finds himself mesmerized and captured by the performance. He’s surprised that even though the dance could be considered seductive or provocative and sensual, what with the veils that Teddy keeps shedding, Edward instead finds that the performance is more than that.

There is something immensely personal in the movements; private even and it feels as though Teddy is shedding more than just veils. It’s as if the layers represent insecurities and their relationship with each one is different, based on the movement and the way Teddy discards the veil.

It’s – vulnerable, if that’s even possible. Teddy is slowly laying themselves bare, not only figuratively, but emotionally as well – exposing themselves; revealing themselves as they truly are and Edward’s heart stammers in his chest as the performance continues.

He also thinks there’s sadness to it. He feels it in the music, but also in the movements; how Teddy caresses the fabric for a moment, before ripping it away. There’s been betrayal here, deep hurt they’ve never really healed from and Edward wonders who could have wronged this wonderful person. What pains have they suffered through that he doesn’t know of?

He wonders briefly if Teddy would mind if they found out he’s been here – assisted this anguished cry. This does really feel like a private performance and he would hate for his friend to feel embarrassed that he’d assisted. Even if “the boss” had put him on the list, he hopes he hasn’t crossed some line, but he figures he can worry about that later.

The music’s pace keeps picking up as the layers are discarded and Edward holds his breath as Teddy’s movements become sharper still, as they fight with their veils. The effects of the lights and the crystals only help create the image of a whirlwind – of an angry snowstorm as the snow falls and then rises again by the wind. He thinks of blizzards and snow squalls and his vision being impaired as the snow seems to fall from every which corner and direction.

For a moment, it seems as though the veils will threaten to overcome Teddy; as if they will lose their fight against the fabric – against the demons they keep close to their heart and deal with, but finally, the music crescendos. They wrap themselves in their last veil and come to a halt, back to the spot where they had started from. The veil undulates and flutters once more, somehow teasing and yet covering, never revealing, and Teddy looks heavenward, arms outstretched, one last plea to be helped or saved – reaching out for something or – someone and they hold their pose for a moment longer, hold it for the audience to feel the final cry and the final tug, before the lights slowly fade out.

A fallen angel, he thinks. Cast out.

It takes him a moment – it takes them all a moment, but soon the silence that followed the end of the performance is broken by loud applause. Edward doesn’t even realise it, but he’s on his feet and someone to his left whistles. He needs to blink tears out of his eyes and he wishes he could go somewhere quiet to process the art he’s just witnessed.

He’s still not sure he’s fully understood everything he’s just seen, but he has newfound respect for his friend.

A member of the staff comes out some time later, once the raucous applause has died down, and tells them that they’ll take a short break before their regularly scheduled shows will begin. The audience is invited to sit, or have a drink, as they set up the room.

Edward finds himself moving away from his table, not really sure if he wants to stay for the second, public part of the evening, or if he wants to leave, but his mind tells him that he needs to find Teddy. He has no idea if the other wants to see him, but he figures he can at least try. Therefore, he makes his way towards backstage and thinks he’ll start over there. He realises he still doesn’t know what his friend does exactly at the club, but he knows they work backstage. If anything, based on his own experience, Teddy should be surrounded by people, trying to keep the adrenaline high of performing for as long as possible, basking in their praise.

He doesn’t know if they’ll let him in the back, but by the time he makes his way there, he’s granted passage with little to no explanation other than “Teddy” and “my friend”. He hasn’t been in this part of the club often, if ever, and it takes him a moment to adjust himself. It brings him back to other times – to before, but he has no time to properly reflect; another thing he can do later. Instead, he walks on and hopes he’ll find someone who’ll be able to tell him where he can find Teddy.

He follows the sound of voices and as they grow louder, he figures he’s getting to the heart of backstage and sure enough, he ends up finding Teddy, wearing a bathrobe of sorts over the last of the veils, surrounded by a few of the usual performers who are clearly there to congratulate them.

Edward lingers back, unsure if he should interrupt this moment or not, but then Teddy spots him and their face breaks out into a wide smile. “Édouard!” They say and they seem both pleased and surprised to see him, so he takes that as a good sign. He takes a cautious step forward and Teddy thanks the gaggle of people around them, before coming up to join him. “I was hoping you would be here tonight!” They say, bright smile on their face like always and Edward wonders if he didn’t image the previous sadness and sorrow from the performance. It had felt too raw to be staged and he wants to ask about it, but the words don’t come out right.

“A coincidence, really; I didn’t know you performed? Had I known, I would have brought you some flowers,” He feels a little empty handed and maybe even a little rude, but honestly, he hadn’t known and therefore, cannot be blamed.

Teddy laughs and leans in a little in his space, “Oh, never like the girls here and not often. I mean, this was the first time I hit the stage in over a decade – if not more! And as for the rest, it’s why I kept this a secret – I wanted everyone here to experience the performance as it was – no expectations, no flowers.”

It does explain why Edward had never seen Teddy perform before, but it still leaves a plethora of questions. He settles for “Are you okay, though? The performance – it was – amazing, but – you looked as though – as though you’ve dealt with a lot – as if it was almost autobiographical, in a sense.” At that, Teddy’s smile turns softer. They reach out for his hand and give it a gentle squeeze.

“Don’t worry about me, Sugar; I’m fine, honest. I’m better than I was before – sometimes it catches up and I need to – let it all out; evacuate it out of my system and this helps, but I promise I’m okay.”

“So it was – personal then?”

Teddy nods and there’s a flicker of sadness that flashes in their green eyes and Edward regrets bringing it up or even insisting, “Hey, d’you wanna get some air?” He thinks of the cigarettes he keeps carrying around whenever he comes to the club, if only to give himself an excuse to steal away into the night with Teddy – to bask in their presence and hear them go off on some tale. He doesn’t know how much time they have before they need to get to work, but he has nothing to lose in asking.

“I have a better idea; want to come back to mine? I’m not working – my assistant is taking over for the night,” They say when they see Edward’s question bubbling at his lips. “It’ll be quieter.” They add and motion to the noisy gaggle of people in all stages of dress getting ready for the next segment of the show. Edward files the tidbit of information regarding the fact that Teddy has an assistant, but he’ll ask about that another time as well.

Instead, he nods. The short answer to their question is yes. Edward will go anywhere Teddy wants to bring him to and he’s come to like Teddy’s cosy little apartment filled with photos and knick-knacks of every sorts. Teddy grins and tells him to meet him out front, while they grab their things.

Edward uses the time he waits for Teddy to retrieve his phone from coat-check and then exits, letting the cool spring air help sort his thoughts. He feels like there’s always a lot to process and he seldom gives himself the time to do so.

He’s not angry or upset that Teddy performs. In fact, if anything, he feels that it gives them something in common, but it had been surprising. Then, there had been the nature of the performance as well as the method used. He still sees the way the shimmering fabric had teased glimpses of skin he had caressed before and that he’d willingly caress again, but he wonders if it’s appropriate to have such thoughts considering the – topic of the dance.

“Sorry for the wait, shall we?”

Edward blinks and looks away from the lamppost he’d been staring at. He nods and notices that Teddy’s wearing one of their long coats over their clothes. He can’t help but smile, amused, considering the evening is pleasant and the coat seems unnecessary, but he knows that Teddy seems to be perpetually cold, which is surprising considering the state of undress they had been in, moments before. They fall in step as they head towards Teddy’s apartment. It’s thankfully not far from here and he’d been surprised by its proximity to the club, the first time he’d gone back to it with Teddy. Teddy had told him that they hated commuting and that at four in the morning, they wanted to get home sooner rather than later.

It’s not even midnight now and as they walk quietly towards the apartment, Edward feels an itching to take hold of Teddy’s hand and twine their fingers together. It’s not the first time he’s felt this way and he’s not sure whether or not he wants to do it out of a sense of offered comfort or as some type of – romantic gesture, but he manages to keep his hands to himself until they make it to the apartment.

“Do you mind if I use your washroom?” Edward asks once they’re in. Teddy doesn’t bother turning the lights on, but nods and points in the direction of where the washroom is, even if Edward knows. He removes his shoes and locks himself in the small room for a moment, letting the light come to life and illuminate his reflection in the mirror.

The reflection blinks and its familiarity helps ground him for a moment. He feels a little wrong footed all of a sudden and he wonders if it has anything to do with the performance, what it could have meant, and the incessant pull he always feels when he’s around Teddy. He splashes some cold water on his face and after waiting another moment; he steps out and goes to find his friend.

The apartment is still and quiet and Edward pads softly towards the bedroom. It’s the only other logical place where Teddy can be and it normally is where they go when they’re here. He’s about to announce himself when he enters, but stops short due to the sight that greets him. He even steps back, as though the scene before him requires more room to exist and he makes sure he’s by the threshold of the door, before he dares to look again.

Teddy sits on the ledge of their large bedroom window, dressed in nothing but that last veil from the show, illuminated by soft moonlight that drifts in from outside as well as the lampposts that decorate the street. The curtains haven’t been shut and so Teddy looks almost ethereal as they sit, seemingly lost in their own thoughts, as the light bathes them softly. The gentle light makes the fabric look nearly completely transparent, safe for where it is bunched together and Edward’s breath catches at the sight of it all.

“You’re beautiful,” He says without thinking and his words break the tranquil moment in which Teddy had been basking in. They look up and offer a welcoming smile, before motioning for him to join them.

Edward walks over to the window, as if in a trance, and finds himself standing beside Teddy by the time he reaches them. Teddy takes his hands and places a kiss to each as Edward’s heart fights to beat out of his chest.

“You’re entirely too kind,” They say, before looking back out to the street and the parked cars, the lampposts and their yellow muted light.

They stand close, Edward able to feel the heat radiating off Teddy’s frame, as they take in the scenery and Edward dares to reach for the fabric that covers Teddy’s body. He yearns to tug it off, to worship, and kiss every inch of their body and chase away any doubts and past pain from their soul. He wants to bring them to bed, hold them close as he whispers sweet nothings to them, until they fall asleep with the notion that they are – loved.

“May I?” He asks as he wraps a piece of the veil around his fingers, feeling the rugged texture beneath them. Teddy tilts their head in his direction and they wait for clarification as to what it is Edward wants to do. “May I remove your last veil?” He asks again and holds his breath, hoping he’s read everything correctly from the moment the performance had started to this very second.

“Please,” Teddy says, their voice a bare whisper, nearly trembling and breaking.

Edward turns them around so that they’re both standing in the window’s light and before he removes the veil, he cups Teddy’s face in his hand and gently caresses their cheek. He feels Teddy lean into the contact and he sees the unshed tears that shimmer in their eyes. He presses a soft kiss to their forehead and after a moment, he lets his hand fall to their shoulder at the first junction of the fabric.

He doesn’t need to tug very hard, seeing as the veil is merely draped over Teddy’s body, but he’s still ever so gentle as he slowly removes it and never looks away from Teddy’s face. He wants them to know that it’s okay – that whatever it is that happened before – that whatever it is they’re doing now, Edward will do his best to take care of them – that he cares for them and that they’re not alone.

The fabric comes apart easily and slides softly and quickly off Teddy’s body, pooling at their feet, much like all the other veils beforehand, until Teddy is left bare, bathed only by the late night light. Edward looks – really looks at them and Teddy lets him, maybe for the first time even.

“You’re beautiful,” He repeats again, for they are and there aren’t enough words to describe the way it is that he feels in this present moment, but Teddy might understand, for they close the distance between them and pull them in for a kiss.

Edward places one arm around Teddy’s bare waist and another goes to the nap of their neck, as he moulds their lips together. This, thankfully, is a language they are both fluent in and this is something he can do.

“Let me take care of you,” He murmurs in their ear when they pull away, sometime later. Teddy looks at him, bright eyes and kiss swollen lips and they hesitate for a moment, before they nod, trusting him completely.

Edward is gentle with them and it’s different from the times beforehand. It feels more like an act of love than an act of sex and he wonders if Teddy notices. He knows there isn’t much of a difference, in the grand scheme of things, but – Edward feels the shift in the way he holds Teddy close and the way they respond to his every touch. He thinks it’s in the little things – the soft, lingering kisses, the lack of urgency to their movements and the way Teddy looks at him, open and caring and still trusting.

It might even be in the moments that come afterwards; when they twine their legs together and Teddy furrows their face in the crook of Edward’s neck. When Edward rubs their back and lets Teddy slowly come apart in his arms, no questions asked, or the way Teddy resurfaces, lifetimes later, with a gentle smile and a soft thanks.

He’s not sure though and this development is new, but Edward feels that it all has to do with something about the veils. He wonders what would have happened had he not shown up tonight and if there hadn’t been some great cosmic pull that had lead him there – not only tonight, but on the very first night he’d visited. He also thinks of his own veils – the ones he keeps close to his own heart and the demons he still hasn’t fully faced yet.

He knows he eventually has to, but as he looks at Teddy’s quiet, tranquil slumbering face, he wonders if he’ll ever be strong enough to do what they did. He supposes that that to will have to wait for a later time and for now he focuses instead on getting some rest as well.

FIN

#pc: montreal #pc: edmonton #edward murphy #étienne maisonneuve #teddy maisonneuve #art #au #fic #k attempts to draw #digital art #club 1642

2 notes · View notes

roominthecastle · 5 years

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Ok so since you’re a believer/supporter of Agnes Gate I have this question. Lizzy’s memories were wiped, but how do you explain Red? What does he know/suspect? How do you explain his behavior? Where does he stand in all this? Hope you got my point because I’m sick and I’ve lost my ability to think clearly and transform thoughts into words 🤒😂

*cracks knuckles*

Yes, you’re coming across clearly, anon, these are all valid points/questions, and I hope you’re feeling better.

Now “believer” is a strong word but I do believe there’s enough wiggle room in current show canon to accommodate this theory. In other words (bc I really don’t want anyone to misunderstand me here): there’s still enough story space for this idea to emerge but there is no direct, overt proof that it is there or that it will.

So consider what follows NOT a proof post but a simple, albeit long AF - thought experiment that presupposes two things:

Liz and Red slept together while on the run (canonically that’s the period when Agnes was conceived)

Liz’s memory of this has been either altered or removed by Dr. Krilov

Now, behavior was, in fact, the one thing that initially put me off this theory bc I didn’t think Red would be willing to just step aside if he suspected he might be the baby’s father. BUT the following seasons revealed a couple of good reasons why he would not speak up (Kirk and the never-ending list of other hostiles, Liz’s “I hate your guts” phase, Liz clinging to Tom, Liz’s selective memory - courtesy of Krilov, fake-DG & the issue of the suitcase, an illness).

They also continued to show just how apt both Red and Liz are to not deal with stuff that’s not an immediate threat (e.g. Liz’s ‘I love you’ which they both willingly continue to just not address), and the thing is: despite not contesting paternity in any overt way, Red never actually stepped aside.

I think this paternity issue and its various complications - from Red’s perspective - can be separated into 4 major time blocks:

S3B

S5A

S5B–present

Even if there’s a reason for Red to think he might be Agnes’ father, I don’t believe he works off anything more than mild suspicions in the S3B–S5A period.

During this time, his relationship with Liz is rapidly unraveling and several other roadblocks and threats emerge that likely discourage him from openly broaching this issue. Then he gets to raise Agnes for 10 months, which provides the perfect opportunity to safely run a paternity test and maybe even another genetic screening (they made a point of telling us that baby Agnes was getting a standard one back in S3 + it was emphasized how having the correct info about her parents’ medical history is crucial for accurate testing - info Tom couldn’t provide). The beginning of Red’s collaboration with Dr. Stark roughly dates back to the time period when he had Agnes with him. If Red has a hereditary (late-onset) illness, he could have been driven to seek a cure once the tests confirmed his suspicions, and he’s now testing it on himself to make sure it works and is safe before giving it to Agnes.

IF.

– more on all this behind the cut – (apologies, mobile users)

- [ S3B ] -

Confirmation of the pregnancy is a wedge between Liz and Red, and it’s Red who screws up first when he rejects the baby right off the bat and tries to bury himself in work. It understandably hurts Liz and the tense tone of their interactions begins to snowball. The main issue concerning Red’s behavior in S3B, right after Liz tells him that she’s pregnant and he bounces back from his initial rejection, is that he becomes “suffocating” and more committed than ever to keep her and the baby in his orbit (which also alarms and later sets off Mr. Kaplan). Red has little sense of boundary, he starts isolating Liz, and he barely tolerates Tom’s presence. When he makes an effort to tolerate him, that’s bc he is trying his best to respect Liz’s choices/wishes (just like in “Ruin”) regardless of his own feelings, but it doesn’t prevent him from repeatedly trying to push Tom out of the picture. He saves him from going to prison but he still has a hard time dealing with Liz having a close relationship with him. This also echoes his original plans for Tom: being there for her but also keeping his distance. This, in turn, echoes his original “invisible benefactor” role he cast himself in (and both of them clearly crossed these lines as the years went by – more on this later).

Despite telling her that he’s known about the pregnancy for some time, Red does not act out until after Liz doesn’t deny that Tom is the father. Red knew about the pregnancy already, he had weeks to vent and get used to the idea, so his spiraling is kind of puzzling unless it’s not the pregnancy itself that sets him off. The only thing he wasn’t sure about was paternity (why?), so the only emotionally logical reason for his weird spiral is that part of him was still hoping that the baby was not Tom’s (tho, in theory, nobody else was in proximity other than the two of them + a more closer look at the timeline reveals that Tom was, in fact, nowhere near Liz when the baby was conceived).

But when Liz didn’t deny it, that’s when it became too much for Red: he didn’t want to have a child (for several reasons) but what he wanted even less was Tom to be confirmed as the father. Then his entire outlook on this subject changes by the end of the episode (after reminding himself how Katarina, too, dreaded having a baby but changed her mind completely). This also brings that Samar/Aram conversation to mind where she tells Aram how being around him changed her attitude towards having children, but now she cannot raise one bc of her condition.

But back to 312 and the “I’m pregnant” moment:

This whole conversation is just weird. Red is tense from the moment he sees Liz at the Post Office, then feeds her the answer to his own question, presenting it as a statement: “I assume Tom is the father.” Why not just give her the opportunity to name him? What this feels like is him giving her an out instead, and his closed-off, prickly, I-am-being-very-inconvenienced-by-this behavior (and Tom’s enthusiasm) is practically willing Liz to take it. And she hesitates for a moment, then instead of saying “yes” she just says, “I haven’t told him yet.” And this is where Red’s barely civil behavior veers into total assholery rejection, then he does a 180 at the end of the episode. By then Liz is sufficiently pissed off and is already pushing him away and sliding back into Tom’s arms. So in many ways ep 312 is where things truly turn and then get worse, and it all happens over Tom, essentially.

After this fallout, we get the episode where Red is thinking back to Josephine who was maneuvered into marrying an abusive scumbag for strategic reasons (as usual, we have parallels too). It was all arranged by a third party, which reminds me of Mr. Kaplan referring to Tom as her “confidant”, which makes me wonder about the extent of their off-screen interaction. Mr. Kaplan was doing everything to tear Red and Liz apart bc she saw that bond as fatal to both and a danger to the baby. Maybe she arranged that 2nd session w/ Krilov (who might have planted images that switched Red and Tom like he did w/ the fire memory where the roles were switched around), then she tipped Tom off, urging him to rekindle his relationship w/ Liz (his proposal was so out of the blue, I still don’t know what to do w/ that).

When Liz wants to give up the baby for adoption, she is told that she has to discuss this with the father, too, as his consent is also needed. Liz says the father is busy with work, then she has 0 conversation about this w/ Tom and goes to Red who, now being very pro having the baby, tries to talk her out of it. He also sabotages Tom’s teacher job and, at the same time, swoops in and presents Liz with a trust fund he set up for the baby, insisting that it’s for the child. As far as symbolic actions go, this one is screaming “I am the provider, not him”. And if it’s not clear enough, he also spells it out by telling her Tom’s not worthy of being her husband and of raising the baby. But it’s too late. Liz rejects him and clings to Tom. She even re-watches the video of Tom being interviewed as a potential adoptive father, which we saw in S1. Liz has been show to chat with potential adoptive parents, so her watching Tom’s adoption agency interview kinda makes it look like she picks Tom to “adopt” Agnes.

S3B is the time period when the threat from Kirk starts emerging. Mr. Kaplan also begins to view Red and Liz’s bond as sth to sever and Red himself as a threat to Agnes, saying that the baby hasn’t even been born yet but is “already paying the price for her association” with him. Then Liz kicks Red out when he asks to see the newborn baby, and soon after Liz’s “death”, Tom tells him that Agnes would only need protection if Red remained in her life. The three of them manage to gaslight Red to such an extent that he completely breaks down. He begins to contemplate ending it all and wanders around, cataloging the reasons.

And that episode-long contemplation is where we get to see (his version of) Katarina in this exact position, her pain at losing the man she loved at a time when there was so much anger and tension btw them, at not being able to raise her daughter, and all her reasoning for committing suicide (all paralleling Red’s). We can also glimpse Red’s innermost thoughts/feelings regarding Liz, Agnes, and Tom. He says “her mother is dead. All she has is the father.” Somehow he cannot bring himself to call Tom “her father” and this is reflected in future real-life interactions w/ Tom as well, when he switches between calling Agnes “Elizabeth’s child” and “your daughter” in his presence. Liz similarly switches btw calling Agnes “my” and “our” around Tom, and initially she refuses to refer to Agnes as anything but “my baby” even after Tom corrects her. It’s almost like both she and Red need some time to adjust. She does. Red? not so much.

Dom further adds to Red’s crushing guilt by reminding him how his choices doomed Liz like they doomed Katarina before. But then he also reminds him that he still has a reason to live as there are others out there who depend on him (“God help them.” - I LOVE Dom). So Red returns to make sure Agnes is safe and to exact vengeance for Liz’s death, two goals which are tied in his mind as he claims that the only way to protect Agnes is by killing Kirk who’s responsible for Liz’s death. He makes a deal with Tom: he lets him participate in the hunt in exchange for being allowed to spend time with Agnes. Again, this whole exchange has a vibe of negotiating visitation rights.

And Red’s interactions w/ Scottie give us a feel for why he will not argue much in the future when Liz decides to pick her to look after Agnes: Red calls Scottie “a brilliant strategist” who - despite Red’s visceral dislike of her - is a suitable “guard” as long as she believes Agnes to be her granddaughter. So not giving any reason to undermine that belief is in the little girl’s best interest (for now).

- [ S4 ] -

This is a period dedicatedto the overarching theme of “truth vs. appearances”, and we have afew interesting ideas and info snippets introduced that can help furtherexplain Red’s behavior if (he suspects that) Agnes is his.

First of all, we meet Kirkand gain some insight into the relationship dynamics of the past - dynamicswhich reflect those in the present.

Mirroring is a curiousfeature that’s utilized right at the beginning, in 401. It’s briefly touchedupon (here) but what makes the Red-Kirk-Liz scene especially interesting isthat the mirroring btw this exchange and the Red-Tom-Agnes one in “CapeMay” is not merely visual but also verbal, giving some weight to thesuspicion that they are linked by design. In both scenes we have the“designated dad” in a room with his daughter while the real father(Red is not Liz’s father but in 401 he “stands in” for real Reddington) is separated and looking in from the outside. On top of that, the dialogues are verysimilar, too:

Red (401): Are you okay? || Red (319): She’ll need protection.Kirk (401): Unlike you, I’d never hurt my own daughter. || Tom (319): Only ifyou are in her life.

And to push it even further,Kirk’s words (“What I desire is to raise my child. To watch hergrow.”) reflect Red’s innermost wish he voices in 319: “ I’d giveanything to be a part of that child’s life […] see her, hold her, watch hergrow.” And this also echoes Liz’s fantasy she shares with Red when theyare on the run. And Red’s retort to Kirk in 401 (“She was never yours toraise.”) also matches Red’s dance around the issue of Agnes’ paternity in319 where he refuses to directly call Tom her father, paralleling Katarina’s pain that she feels due to being separated from her daughter.

So I think what we can statewith certainty here is that there is confusion around paternity inboth scenes.

As the season unfolds, we dolearn that Kirk was a “cover dad”, designated as such by Katarina formultiple reasons (that happen to match Liz’s reasons for wanting to“escape” Red in S3 and be with Tom instead):

best chance at a normal life: Kirk did not work as an agent or any kind ofoperative, he had a (relatively) stable life in Russia. Katarina wasmarried to him and they lived together until real Reddington, believing Mashato be his daughter, took their daughter back to the US.

safety: asRed put it, “Your safety was guaranteed because Kirk believed you to behis daughter.” This belief was cemented in by a fake DNA report andentries in Katarina’s journal where she writes about their relief that Mashawon’t be exposed to the genetic illness that plagues Kirk’s family as it canonly be inherited by sons.

“no other path”: despite loving Reddington, Katarina accepted that she was never gonna endup with him. The circumstances were forever against them. This is why she began distancing herself from him and this is why she didn’t want to know ifhe was Masha’s father.

If Katarina had written apro/con list for her baby, I bet it would have looked a lot like the one Liz wrote, exceptit would have said “Kirk????” instead of “Tom????” But, as Redtold Liz, being Katarina’s husband didn’t make Kirk her father, which is apotentially relevant observation given how Liz kept trying to marry Tom at allcosts to force a “normal family” into existence that was never more than anillusion + how she was trying to distance herself from Red.

Those three main reasons abovealso provided the motivation for a cover-up that Kirk refused to acceptas the truth until multiple tests confirmed it when he fell ill and needed agenetic donation from a blood relative. As Red pointed out, “You saw whatKatarina wanted you to see.” This also echoes Mr. Kaplan’s words to Red atthe end of S3: “You saw what we needed you to see.” which might godeeper than “merely” faking Liz’s death and could be a hint at Kaplan’srole in arranging the 2nd memory manip session with Krilov.

In this season, Red alsostruggles with appearance vs. truth, with the cost/benefit ratio of deceptionsand false assumptions. This happens indirectly when he “auditions” hisnew cleaners in a pristine white apartment where one of his friends wasmurdered. He is both upset and marvels at how clean everything looks –“your cleaners removed even the memory of his blood”.

This practicality takes on asymbolic meaning as it carries over into Red’s relationship with Mr. Kaplanwhom he calls his confessor: “every trespass I committed, expunged.Cleansed as if it never happened.” Mr. Kaplan claims that Red betrayed Lizand held her “emotionally hostage”. These are rather extreme accusations… unless Red and Liz slept together while on the run and Redconfessed this to Mr. Kaplan. Now that act could be easily and understandablyconsidered trespassing by her, a crossing of a line that never should have beencrossed (= a betrayal). Red felt rage when he learned that Tom had become intimate with Liz. He considered this a betrayal, too, and Tom an immediate threat. He went about correcting the situation the same way Mr. Kaplan goes about correcting Red’s behavior in S3B-S4. Perhaps the trigger was the same type of trespassing too.

Mr. Kaplan makes it her mission to separate Liz and Red,and it all begins back in S3, around the time somebody hired Dr. Krilov to takecertain memories from Liz. Red is very close to directly confessing his feelings for Liz in 302. If he ended up confessing that he’s in love with her and they ended up in bed, that can be considered “a truth” about him that Liz uncovered – a truth that someone who doesn’t want them to be together would definitely object to.

Mr. Kaplan urges Liz to “do what yourmother never had the courage to do: walk away from Raymond.” IF Red and Liz slepttogether and Agnes was the result, then Dr. Krilov’s 2nd memory manipulationdid what Red’s cleaner(s) did in the white apartment: the “trespass” got “expunged”. Even the memory of it.Truth became elusive and assumptions took its place (like “I assume Tom is thefather.”).

Red is trying to complete a white puzzle in the white apartment,which takes on potential relevance after we can hear him compare memory toa jigsaw puzzle in 514. The possible relevance? Maybe he’s wondering (puzzled, if you will ;) why Lizacts as if nothing happened between them on the run, as if her memory of it were wiped clean. And while it is undoubtedly simpler and safer thisway, and it’s best to leave that topic alone, it is hard for him to accept, esp with Tomin the picture and taking on roles Red wishes to be able to fill, roles Liz now rejects him in.

In this episode we can also hear Gale make a pointed, suggestive remarkto Liz about her time with Red in S3A: “What was it like on the run withhim? Did he charm you?” And all this happens while Mr. Kaplan is hell-benton tearing Red and Liz apart for the sake of all of their safety, claiming thatRed’s presence in their lives is a threat to Agnes, Liz, and also to himself.

Memory manipulation - or the presence of holes in one’s memory - has itsown “footprint” in the show. It usually manifests as images drifting outof focus and echoing voices. There are two instances where this happens to Liz with no apparent reason. One is in 308 when she is in a gas stationbathroom - already pregnant - staring at her reflection in the dirty mirror. The other is in 317when Red marches towards her in the church, calling out her name and interrupting her and Tom’s wedding -both are situations where her baby’s father and her husband are likely on her mind. In317 she even connects the two by saying she wants to build a life with thefather of her child and Red keeps pleading with her to not marry Tom.

We are periodically reminded that Red is a Proust fan, and Proustjust happens to be the author of À la recherche du temps perdu (In Search of Lost Time) - a monumentalexploration of the various connections that web reality, perception, and memorytogether. The concept of involuntary memory originates from this novel series,and we can see this in action on The Blacklist, too, when Liz’sburied memory of the night of the fire gets triggered in 222. It’s also possible that she was close to being triggered in those twoscenes mentioned above, and maybe she won’t even need Krilov’s help in regaining the memories she’s lost the 2nd time as they could also be triggered unexpectedly by the smallest, most random thing - a smell, a taste, a voice, a gesture.

The white apartment incidentalso coincides with Liz, Agnes, and Tom moving to a new apartment. Redhas a hard time adjusting to this change, to no longer being able to see Agneswhenever he wants (and he was visiting her regularly while they were in his safe house, always showing up w/ the request to see her in particular), which brings the downside of deception into focus: separation. And Redstruggles with this despite understanding the safety that lies in it and inhiding truths - something Katarina knew a lot about, as well.

It’s not surprising that he soon starts musingabout the importance of truth (in 412):

“You said something before. The truth doesn’t matter, that the only thing in this world that matters is just the appearance of truth. I fear you might be right about that. Lately I find that the truth has become… so elusive. Often imaginary. But in the end, it’s all that we’re left with, isn’t it? What is real, what you can taste and touch and feel. The words that pass between us as we look each other in the eye are… all we have to hold on to. The truth. I hold it dear.”

then he proceeds to make a cuckoo clock forAgnes in the following episode (x, x). His first remark on how he is no longercomfortable with the idea of dying at any second also pops up in 412, and itgets reaffirmed in 415, in the same episode where the bad guy of the weekexpresses the same sentiment: his reason for clinging to his miserable life is fatherhood andhe wants a family even if he is barred from being physically present in their lives.

Red faces this issue, too. Tom remains Agnes’ (designated)dad and Liz’s husband while he is now kept away. He stillkeeps prodding that family unit, though, keeps teasing Tom about his pastand keeps involving him in missions to strip away his thin veneer of “normaland safe” to prove to Liz that she is mistaken about him. (sidenote: Tom also“takes over” the sentiment of Liz - and Agnes - being his future; thisis Red’s “thing”, has been since S1)

Meanwhile, Red keepsflip-flopping between accepting Mr. Kaplan’s accusations and rejecting them (“Maybe I am the person you need protection from.” vs “She was wrong to think Elizabeth and Agnes were safer without me in their lives.”). Hecannot seem to make up his mind as others join the chorus of blaming him forhow badly things turned out.

This is also the seasonwhere Red has an awkward and out-of-the-blue exchange with Cooper about thelatter’s sick daughter (414), and in another ep (404) - one featuring a parentand child sharing the same disorder - Red is asked point blank if he has achild with special needs but he doesn’t answer.

His personal struggle with appearancevs truth, however, is temporarily suspended when Liz blindsides him with the DNA test in 422. Despite his visible discomfort, Reddoesn’t correct Liz’s false assumption because it happens to provide theperfect cover he so desperately needs to find the skeleton Mr. Kaplan unearthed.But this strategic move comes with the price of having to keep his silenceabout Agnes for the foreseeable future. Thanks to Mr. Kaplan’s parting gift andCooper’s (accidental?) “antidote” of running that DNA test and providing cover, Red is now backed into a corner where the only way topreserve his secret is by not challenging appearances.

- [ S5A ] -

this block is nestledbetween two high-impact turning points: the DNA test and Tom’s death. The DNAtest locks Red into a false role, that of Liz’s father, which holds throughoutS5 and to a lesser extent in S6. The only reprieve is the 10-month period duringwhich he gets to take on the role of father in Agnes’ life (=inhabiting thetruth). Liz spends this time unconscious, which I find quite symbolic, as well (her being not conscious of his true role).

The DNA test is both a curseand a blessing. Red undoubtedly enjoys the sudden warming of his relationship with Lizbut he clearly does not enjoy her referring to him as “father”. Everytime it happens, we can see him wince, cringe, or glare in silence. But it happensto be the perfect cover for him to keep searching for the skeleton since it preventsLiz from asking the very questions he doesn’t want her to wonder about.

So Liz confrontinghim with the DNA test closes the window of opportunity Red still had in S3B andS4 to contest paternity. This turn of events also forces him to prioritizepreserving his secret over almost everything else (he is only ready to give it up when he thinks Liz’s life is at stake), so the struggle we can see him having in S4 - the onebtw appearances and the truth - promptly takes a back seat as keeping upappearances becomes the #1 strategic necessity.

That being said, Red still onlydoes the bare minimum (= not denying it outright) to play father to Liz. And this time block brings some interesting remarks about geneticsand secrets, which may have more significance than simply serving as empty redherrings until the impostor reveal hits at the end of the season.

Smokeydrops some comments about being “just like daddy” and having “noway to avoid the family curse” because “DNA is what it is.” Onthe surface this ties into the (beyond grating) tendency of some characters to blame-shiftand refuse to take any responsibility for their shitty life choices. But what makesthis exchange stand out is the wording “family curse” becauseKatarina uses a similar phrase (“this accursed disease that has afflicted his family for generations”) to describe Kirk’s condition.In 506, Tom also remarks to Red that “family secrets” always comeout. And now Red is sick and is in need of a pioneering geneticist’s help to find a cure. Somehow I don’t believe this is all just coincidence. + judging from those (brief) (glimpses) we get at Agnes, she is already a lot like her dad. ;)

Ep 504 in particularhas some curious details because they don’t line up with Red and Liz’s pretendrelationship but they do line up with the idea of Red having “a familycurse” that puts Agnes at risk. In this episode, asoldier gives up her child to get him out of harm’s way, but when the child presentswith an incurable disorder, she takes him from his adoptive parents, thencommits suicide to provide the donor heart needed to save his life. Witnessing this,Red remarks that “given the same circumstances, I’d like to think I’d beas brave as her. I know I’d wanna be.”

And then Tom dies, Liz endsup in a coma, and Red is left to take care of Agnes. If she is his, this 10-month period gives Red the perfect opportunity to finally confirm it and, asI mentioned above, have her tested for whatever disorder he knows he - and thus she too -carries. The timeline is always tricky on this show but by my rough estimateRed invested in Dr. Stark’s gene hacking research around the time he still had Agnes or not long after.

- [ S5B–present ] -

In this period, Red shouldalready have confirmation about paternity, about whether or not Agnes is atrisk, and Dr. Stark is already working on the cure for both. However, theskeleton and all the threats attached are still out there, circling them, and Liz is stillunder the impression that he is her father, which Red cannot push back againstif he is to keep his main secret secret.

We’ve seen how far he is willing to go tokeep his identity hidden, so letting Liz believe he is her father is really notall that out there for this guy. Only life-and-death situations can push him to reveal certain things, so it might be unruly genetics that will end up forcing his hand this time around. If Agnes needs treatment, that’s gonna be tricky to administer w/o somebody eventually noticing.

Red is still in a false role for now but its confines have weakened since he realized that Liz now knows he used to be someoneelse.

WhenLiz decides to go away for a while and entrusts Agnes to Scottie, Red questionsbut eventually goes along with her decision. “It was what youwanted,” he tells her later on. Even locked in his assumed role hecould have dug his heels in and claimed that he had a say in this matter, but he letLiz make the decisions and respected them. It carried way more risk to let her disappear alone than to let Scottie take Agnes, yet Red did not argue and did notrepeat the mistakes he made in S3B when things got so out of hand, Liz began toresent him and he was genuinely worried he was suffocating her. So he did what everybody toldhim to do in S4: he let her - and Agnes - go. And then she came back to him.

But for now, it is best if Agneshas safe distance from both him and Liz. In 520, Red told Jennifer that she was notabandoned but protected. That’s Agnes, too. Red may detest Scottie but he doesacknowledge that she is an excellent strategist with the skills, insight,motivation, and resources to keep the little girl safe. Shebelieves her to be her granddaughter, which - imo - in Red’s book ensures her loyaltyno matter how he feels about her otherwise. And in ep 512, we can see that Redknows exactly where Agnes is and, knowing him, he has his own invisiblemultilayered security web in place, monitoring everyone in Agnes’ life 24/7 and sendingdaily reports to him.

Whenhe and Liz observe Agnes from a distance at the end of the episode, the topic oftruth once again emerges, making it the third time that Agnes and talk of“the truth” co-occur: one is earlier in this episode (“If I misseven one more day with [Agnes] than is absolutely necessarybecause you’re not being completely honest…”)and the other is the cuckoo clock scene in S4. Red tells Liz heknows how hard this separation is and that they want the same thing here, whichechoes his remark in S4 about how they are in lockstep where Agnesis concerned. It also reminds me ofhis stunned reaction when Liz shares her fantasy with him in S3 (“I’mwalking in a park with my husband. Inbetween usis our little girl. I’mholding her hand in mine… and Inever let go.”). They do want the same thing and they are on the same page about Agnes, but everything else is still in disarray. For now, there is safetyin separation and keeping up appearances, even uncomfortable and painful ones.

In 514, Red gives us and Liz areminder when he points out that in the criminal underworld you can neverreveal how important someone is to you without making them an instant target. Theshow continues to provide examples of this specific danger, and the cases thatdirectly touch upon this topic “borrow” elements from Red’s situation: in518, Mosadek’s son is abducted by business associates because they suspect himof being an informant, and in 610, criminals attempt to extort money from a fatherwhose daughter was born premature with a condition to which there was no cureat the time, so the father came up with one.

Ep605 is extra curious because it features the story of a guy who never knew hisfather and only learned about his identity when he was unexpectedly summoned to the readingof his will. Van Ness was fighting an illness, too, and decided to change hiswill to include his only son that nobody even knew about. His last written message to himwas: “I loved your mother but didn’t have the courage to stay withher.” Van Ness’ seat and vote in an international criminal syndicate are also automaticallytransferred to his heir, making him a target for various reasons. It’s also a reminder of what kind of dangerous entanglements thechildren of international criminals have to deal with once their family ties arerevealed. In this episode, we also get a reminder from Aram that “in arelationship, the truth always comes out.” and Dembe continues toplead with Red to be honest with Liz, tell her the truth and leave the rest to fate. Red, however, stubbornly keeps his silence.

Theparallels btw Red/Liz and Samar/Aram also continue in S6, and what Samar tells Aram in 613has potential relevance to deciphering Red’s perspective and reasons for not speaking up about Agnes. Samar says that she made peace with the idea that she was never gonna havechildren (back in S3, she told Liz she picked career over family) but meeting Aram changed everything. After that, she wanted nothingmore than to try and balance the two, to build a family with him. But now that she knows she has anirreversible condition, she cannot raise a child, and she feels he deservesmore than what she can give.

Ifeel all these sentiments also play a role in how Red evaluates the possibilities of hisrelationship with Liz (even if Agnes is not his). His initial reaction to the baby was rejection,remarking that a child would make their difficult work infinitely harder. But then he changed his mind. In 319, he confessed that hewould give anything to be able to raise Agnes but he was also painfully aware of the factors preventing him from realizing this wish.“Your baby deserves more than we can provide,”Mr. Kaplan told Liz right at the moment she decided to separate her from Redfor good. This idea also emerges in 614, when Red notices Liz staring at thephoto of herself with Katarina, and tells her that the photo represented everythingKatarina wanted but couldn’t have after she became a hunted woman. Being a fugitive himself, Red facesthe exact same problem. And now he alsohas an illness to overcome, so him having the same attitude as Samar - i.e. writing himself off as notbeing a suitable match and accepting not being with “the one” - feels right on the mark, imo. Katarina also shared in this heartbreak where realReddington and their daughter were concerned. She, too, had to let go of what she really wanted.

bottom line (bc it’s time to wrap this up): everything that’s happened since Liz confronted Red with the pregnancynews has been discouraging him from “coming out” as Agnes’ father:

initial uncertainty regarding paternity

Liz’s growing resentment towards him that culminated in a faked death

Tom + Liz choosing him over and over again coupled w/ Red starting to accept that Tom somehow makes Liz happy while he only manages to bring pain and hardship into her life

the constant threats and Red’s growing worry that he might indeed be athreat to Agnes and Liz

the unexpected DNA report that was also the perfect cover

Red’s emerging health issues

Liz’s missing memories (without which how would he even begin to explain it or have any hope she will not freak completely or worse?)

But we are in a period now where there is tangible improvement regarding these main issues. Red now knows whether or not he’s Agnes’ father, so that uncertainty is gone. Tom is dead. Liz’s resentment subsided and she knows Red is an imposter yet loves him anyway and told him so. He also knows about Krilov’s 2nd interference that explains some of Liz’s behavior. His illnessis being treated, too. But the risks and threats in their lives still remain. For now they are mitigating this by staying away from Agnes, but if theimprovements hold, hopefully the time will come when this issue of paternity - along with some other questions - can be broughtforth and sorted between the two of them.

#anonymous #tbl spec #long post

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rosesfromcth · 5 years

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HoneyedHood Birthday Celebration

So yesterday, May 12, was Brinkley’s ( @honeyedhood ) 19th birthday. And I told her I would write her a fic bc I wanted to and I suck bc i procrastinated and took so long to get it done bc i am a procrastinator. But I love Brinkley with my whole damn heart and she deserves the whole damn world and calum hood could be so lucky to love her and to be loved by her. Without further ado, here you have it and i am sorry for any typos or mistakes.

You groaned as your alarm went off from the nightstand on your side of the bed. Flipping onto your side, your hand fumbles its way to the silence button.

Slowly, you rolled up in to a sitting position, careful to not wake your sleeping boyfriend. After stretching out, you slide your feet into your favorite slippers that are lying on the side of your bed and pad over to the joint master bathroom where you turn the shower on to hot. You hop in and try to shower as quickly as possible as you had slept in a bit longer than usual.

After hopping out of the shower and drying off, you slip into your robe and head to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. You wait for it to finish brewing and make two pieces of toast before pouring two mugs of coffee to go with it. You carefully bring both ‘meals’ into the bedroom and set Calum’s on his night stand for when he wakes up. After munching on your toast, you decided to pull some music up to play softly while you do you get ready. Youngblood is what plays through the speakers as you apply makeup, softly brushing on some blush and a light coat of mascara. Being in a kitchen all day makes it pointless for you to do a full face of makeup as it normally will sweat off so you like to keep it light.

Calum slowly wakes up and chuckles at your music choice. You turn and smile at him when you hear his laugh.

“Morning, baby.” He calls gently as he reaches for his coffee cup. This has become your morning routine for when he is on tour. You normally sleep in pretty late since do you don’t go to work till around noon, Calum likes that. He like staying in bed with you all morning and cuddling. But when you work, you’ll wake up and make coffee and some light breakfast for the two of you and start to get ready until he slowly wakes himself up to the smell of coffee and whatever show or music you are listening to. Then you’ll talk quietly as he continues to wake up, or you’ll just do your thing in silence while he watches you.

You walk over and press a kiss to his lips to greet him but his arms quickly snake around your waist and pull you onto his lap.

“Bee, Do you have to go into work today?” Calum whines as he presses kisses to your forehead and cheeks. He had just gotten home from tour that past Saturday and while you’d spent all of Sunday together it didn’t seem to be enough. “Please stay home with me. I missed you.”

He pulls you back into a kiss and your hands find their way to his neck and run through his short, short hair. Before you get too attached to the kiss, you force yourself to pull away.

“I do.” You nod as you lean into him, sighing. His arms tighten around your body, trying to pull you close again.

“Please. I just need one more day with you before you go back to work.” He begs. He was lucky you’d been able to get yesterday off. “Brinkley.”

You climbed off his lap, moving back to your vanity to put your makeup away.

“Cal, I just don’t know how I would swing that to my boss.” You explain before turning to your closet to put on your day’s outfit for under your uniform.

“Just tell him your extremely good looking and talented boyfriend is home and you need the day off.” His voice keeps growing whinier. “Or that you’re sick. You’re in the food industry, they won’t want you to come in if you are sick. Please I’ll pamper you all day, we can watch Great British Bake Off and eat junk and do all the things we love.”

You can feel yourself starting to cave in so you just shake your head, at yourself more so than Calum for letting yourself be this weak to his demands. Calum seems to think this means no, you won’t be staying home but you just grab your phone and start dialing the number.

Even though you insist on being sick, your boss sees right through you asking how your boyfriend is. Luckily, he’s pretty sympathetic to your long distance situation and just chuckles telling you to have a good day and that he’ll see you the next day.

Calum cheers hearing you say that you’ll see your boss on Tuesday instead. You quickly change out of your clothes and back into some comfy sweats and one of Calum’s t-shirts.

“You fucking idiot! Everyone knows you need to whip the egg whites to a stiff peak before you mix in the other ingredients in. If you have no idea how to make a genoise sponge, how’d you even get on the show?” Calum yells at the tv as you laugh at him. “It’s not funny. She can’t make the most basic sponge that they require you to make every season on the show. How does she expect to ever get star baker, let alone win the show?”

He gets pretty worked up over the show and often gets mad at the contestants so it’s your job to calm him down but only after you laugh at him. Often times he will ask you to help him learn how to make whatever they are making on the show. But that doesn’t always turn out so well because he gets frustrated and realizes just how hard it really is, or he gets bored and throws food at you resulting in you kicking him out of the kitchen.

But today, you nixed baking and decided to just stay in bed. Your hands were wandering each other’s bodies, softly exploring what they already knew. His hands would give light squeezes on your hips and he’d place soft kisses to your hair. While your hands would trace patterns on his bare chest. Your legs were wrapped around each other and your head was resting on his shoulder.

As you lay there watching the show you decide you’re hungry and want to get a bowl of popcorn but Calum refuses to let you get up. He’s been like this all day, very whiny. He won’t let you leave the bed, or if you do he follows you, his arms wrapped around you from behind as he holds you while you walk to wherever you’re going in your house. You had to draw the line at him following you into the bathroom though.

Yesterday, the two of you had gone to brunch with some of your other friends and spent the day in town so it was nice to have today to just relax.

After grabbing your popcorn and a drink to go with it, you head back to the bedroom and plop down into the bed where duke had taken over Calum’s half of the bed. Calum doesn’t mind this though because it gives him more reason to cuddle with you. He quickly falls back into the position he was holding you before you got up.

“I love you.” You whisper quietly to him, the Great British Bake Off is now just background noise as the two of you softly talk to each other and admire one another.

“I love you, Brinkley.” He responds, filling your stomach with butterflies. The two of you are quiet for a moment. As you take a hold of his much larger hand in yours and fiddle with his fingers and his rings, his other hand gently plays with your short, dirty blond hair. “So much. I love you so damn much.”

The thing about your relationship was, you never needed to be loud about your feelings for each other. Because you were so comfortable with one another and understood each other so well. The softness and sweetness of every moment made it so much better, more personal and perfect for the two of you and your relationship.

He pressed another soft kiss to your forehead and looked at you for a few minutes, studying the way your eyes crinkled slightly as your smiled and how perfectly your hand fit in his.

“Marry me?” He whispers, all of a sudden.

“What?” It comes out of a your mouth before you can even fully comprehend what he’s asking, He’s looking in your eyes, intently and repeats himself, this time with more confidence.

“Marry me,” He says. “I’m serious. I had planned to take you out to dinner later this week when I’d had a chance to settle in more. But this is perfect for us. This is who we are and I can’t think of a better way to ask you to be my wife. I love you with everything in my being and I wouldn’t be who I am without you. You are the kindest, smartest and most caring woman I know and I never want anyone else to be by my side. So please, Marry Me?”

At this point he is smiling at you and a little out of breath but you are tearing up. You are so in love with this man so the only thing you can say is.

“I do. I will marry you. Yes.” You exclaim and he pulls you into you for a kiss and to hug you tight. “I love you.”

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spider-bih · 7 years

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Rainy Kisses

Pairing: Peter x OC [Though you can read it like a reader insert bc I don’t go into much detail on my oc’s looks]

Warnings: None- unless fluff counts? And cursing?

This is a snippet from a fic I’m writing on a different website <3

Spring break had finally arrived. It was well deserved and much needed. The first day off she had slept in until about four in the afternoon- much to her boyfriends slight disappointment. He'd swung by early to see if she wanted to go for a little coffee date, but she ended up pulling him into her bed and cuddling him close. He was tired too, but he didn't want to spend the whole day sleeping, despite how much she insisted that he needed rest, even more than she did.

He gave in easily though. She was warm and soft, wonderfully cozy in shorts and a tank top. She wrapped herself around him the minute he changed out of his suit, lulling him into a deep sleep by tracing soft little patterns on his chest through his shirt and laying her head on his chest. It was the best sleep Peter had gotten in the past few months. He didn't regret a single second of it, even if he woke up wondering what year it was.

Seeing her all curled up against him had him grinning like mad for the rest of that day. His girlfriend was adorable..

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦

The next day started off more.. productively. They were actually up in the morning, and not groggily so. They set off on their favorite kind of mini-date. The kind involving coffee and sweets. It wasn't the coffee or the sweets that made it their favorite, though it was a sweet little bonus to it. It was the soft smiles and brushing fingertips. The tiny giggles and adoring glances. It was the whipped cream on his nose and the pastry crumbs on her lips that he loved to kiss away. The way she tasted sweet as sugar for an hour afterwards, adding to the already sweet taste her lips had.

He lived for that sweet taste, his own personal drug, leaving him on a high for hours to come. He lived for the feeling of her hand holding his as they walked out, the warmth in the smile she wore and the way the sunlight spilled along her bright red curls. It was a sight that often took his breath away, a sight that had him yearning to kiss her and hold her and never let go.

However, he never once considered adding rain to the mix. They'd started dating in the chilly months of the year, filled with warm sweaters and laughter. Winter had faded into spring, and as they say, April showers bring May flowers. He never expected to get caught in it on their way back, so he was surprised when it slowly but surely began to pour down on them, eyebrows furrowing as he turned to look at her. She wasn't looking at him, not yet. Instead, she was looking up at the sky, at the grey clouds it was covered in. He thought she might be a little mad, considering the rain would ruin the extra sweets they had in a brown paper bag. She was far from it, an even bigger smile pulling across her lips as she let out one of the most joyous laughs he'd ever heard from her.

In that small moment, he'd learned something new about her.

She loved rain.

Her face turned to him, still smiling and laughing, causing him to do the same. It was pretty funny, of course their luck would lead to this. Lead to them being one of the few people caught by surprise in the rain with no umbrellas- not even hoodies to shield them from the rain that fell on them. He found himself falling for her all over again, melting into the happiest puddle at the sight of her. His heart was signing and flying in his rib cage, smiling that dopey smile while she continued to giggle, tilting her head to the sky to let the rain drip onto her face, welcoming it with outstretched arms.

"This is perfect!", she cried out happily over the pouring rain.

"Yes, you are..", he found himself murmuring, not caring if he was heard. Which he was, making her pause to look at him with red cheeks.

"That's such a cliché thing to say, you dork.."

"Guess I'm cliché then.", he hummed, stepping closer to her, hands reaching up to cup her face. He was having one of those moments again. The ones where his feelings overpowered him, his usual awkward and sometimes shy demeanor falling away, a surge of confidence and pure adoration filling him instead. He angled his face slightly, lips brushing against hers, her heart bursting in her chest the moment he uttered out, "I absolutely adore you..", against her lips before pressing a kiss to them.

He sighed into her, her sweet taste making him weak at the knees. Her lips were wet from the rain, as were his, but it didn't feel as funny as he thought it might. He wasn't sure if it was because he was too into the moment or not, though, he was sure he didn't care. The sweet smell of her perfume mixed in wonderfully with the warm caramel drink she'd had earlier, drawing him in closer, making him become greedier. A soft whisper of his name had him groaning into her, gripping her face a little tighter, pressing himself a little closer to her.

His hands soon fell from her face, shifting to grip her hips tightly while her arms draped around his neck, pulling him to her, only allowing him a short break for air before pulling him in again. Greedy for his kiss, her fingers finding their way to his hair, running through his curls. He could kiss her forever, and he absolutely wanted to. He loved the feeling, loved the thought of having his entire world right before him, kissing him back with as much emotion as he was. Softly tugging at his hair, breaths becoming heavy, sometimes mumbling his name in between kisses. She had him turning to mush, thoughts swirling and spinning, yet somehow all focused on her only.

This was the longest they'd kissed without being interrupted. They were the only ones standing in the middle of the sidewalk, kissing in the pouring rain. Basically, they were being that couple. The couple that decided to ignore the world and kiss each other unashamedly in the middle of anywhere other than privacy. Though, they didn't care. Not within the slightest. Not even when a person or two speed walked past them, muttering in disgust or irritation.

Still, neither of them cared.

There was always a calm before the storm..

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦

"Can't fucking believe we got sick..", Ariel hissed before blowing her nose into a tissue.

"Well- it usually happens-"

"It does not! Everyone always says you'll get sick- but it never happens! Now we're sick on our Spring Break.", she pouted, wrapping her blanket tighter around her.

He just grinned a little, even sick with a red and runny nose, she looked cute- but no matter how much he wanted to kiss her- he wasn't gonna. He was sure she'd actually hit him this time if he tried again. She'd already mushed his face four times, whining about how gross she was and how they'd never get better if they shared germs, "At least we're sick together."

"Oh so now you're optimistic? Last I heard, May said you were whining like a baby that you were dying this morning-"

"I was not!"

"I heard you over the phone, Peter. My Mom had you both on speaker."

He huffed, "Your word against mine."

"You know what?"

"What?"

"This is your fault."

"What? How is this my fault-?"

"We could've ran back to my place! But nooo, you had to kiss me! You just couldn't help yourself-"

He gave her a little glare, sniffling as he stared her way, "I didn't hear you complaining while we were kissing. I'm only hearing you now, after the fact! You could've stopped me-"

Ariel sneezed, "Its so rude of you to argue with your sick girlfriend-"

"What? You started it!"

"I did not! I'm gonna tell May on you-"

"Oh, so we're five now? Five year old tattle tales-"

"Right. Snitches get stitches. I'll get you back on my own-"

He glared again, "Go take a nap, you're acting like a child-"

"You go take a nap, I'm fine!", she huffed.

"Ariel. Your eyes are struggling to-"

"Shhhhhut up."

"I don't get enough kisses for this-"

"Well because of you, neither of us get any kisses for awhile!"

He huffed and blew a raspberry at her, earning himself a pillow to the head, "I'm keeping this one this time!"

"Rude! Give-"

"Both of you take a nap! I left for five minutes and you're acting like kids again, this is why neither of you are getting better. Ariel, you really need to sleep before your Mom comes to pick you up from work. I'm scared she might actually drag you out by your feet if you throw a mini-tantrum again."

Ariel and Peter looked to each other for a moment, then back to May, both blowing raspberries her way. She only sighed and fought back a smile.

Ah, young love-

#peter parker #peter x oc #peter parker x oc #fluff #Spider-Man: Homecoming #its the babe #fic #my fic #oc #oc: ariel #peter parker fic #peter parker fluff #peter parker fanfiction

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theclaravoyant · 7 years

Note

also if you're up for it, S1 Skye finds Simmons in Fitz's bed post FZZT and in trying to explain that they are not dating or sleeping together, they end up talking about QPs and aromantic (and/or ace) identities (bonus points if Skye ends up joining them for all the platonic bed sharing feels)

AN ~ Always a pleasure to write for you! Thanks for the prompt

Also tagging @unlessimwrongwhichyouknowimnot bc they’re always down for QP FitzSimmons. Happy Pride!

(and for those of who who didn’t catch them last year, there’s more QP FS in Birds of a Feather and aro!Jemma (who unfortunately didn’t make it explicitly into this one) in Love is Not an Eight Letter Word.)

Read on AO3 (~1600wd).Fluff! Rated G/K+ for some light/brief mentions of sex.

Peas in a Pod

It was the morning after the scariest day of her life, and Skye woke with her heart pounding heavily in her chest. She couldn’t remember if she’d been dreaming, or if so, what it had been about, but in her state of panic she remembered the way her heart had dropped, her mouth had gone dry, her every thought had turned to death death death when Jemma had jumped. She would have survived and landed and gone on, and her friend would be dead. Gone. Forever. She’d never been that close to it before.

All of a sudden, she felt an urge to see Jemma’s face. Or Fitz’s, which if nothing else, would remind her that they’d come out of it after all. So, still in her pyjamas, Skye bolted across the hall and knocked on Jemma’s door. No answer? She tried Fitz’s instead, her whole body starting to shake, just in case, but then –

“Yeah, come in.”

Not screamingly enthusiastic, but definitely not the voice of a man who had lost his best friend the day before. Relieved, Skye pulled the door open, and yelped.

“AH! NO!” She spun on the spot and covered her eyes, unsure where to look or not look. Unsure what she had just seen or not seen.

Jemma laughed and sat up, Fitz’s blankets pooling around her, now revealing most of the Sci-Tech Academy logo on the shirt she was wearing.

“It’s okay, Skye,” she assured her. “We’re both decent.”

Skye settled, and dropped her hand from her eyes. Fitz had crossed the room as if to open the door for her, and was frowning a little, confused by her reaction.

“It’s cool,” Skye said, shrugging to recover her casual exterior, though she was still a little flushed and breathless. “Extreme situations give rise to new relationships. All the time.”

“New relationships?” FitzSimmons shared a glance, and then snapped back to Skye, in unison.

“This is a new thing, right?” Skye checked, waving a finger between them. She may not be a long-time trained spy, but she wasn’t that thick. Besides, it had only been yesterday (such a long day) that Fitz had been snorting and guffawing and denying his chemistry with Jemma and even – if Skye was not mistaken – flirting with her instead. With no real reason to keep a secret from her – well, not one like that – the only other conclusion Skye could draw was that the two of them had finally been driven into each other’s arms by the previous day’s near-death experience. It happened.

It happened, but it was not what had happened here.

“Oh,” Simmons said, as if explaining aside to Fitz. “She thinks we slept together last night.”

“What?” Fitz baulked. “No! Of course not! I mean we slept but we didn’t… sleep…”

“Fitz and I aren’t together,” Simmons explained, cutting him off. “Well, not by your standards, anyway.”

“’My standards,’” Skye repeated, confused. “As opposed to what? Your standards? What, are you guys aliens or something?”

“What?” Fitz was momentarily alarmed.

“What?” Skye locked her eyes on his, wondering if she’d actually managed to catch him out. She’d always felt there was something weird about this place, and about FitzSimmons. And with everything that had happened recently, aliens wouldn’t be that much of a stretch, to be honest.

But Fitz seemed just as keen to catch her out as she was him, and so they stared each other down for a few seconds until Jemma waved them off again.

“No, I just meant… most people don’t understand the nature of our relationship.”

Skye snorted.

“Alright, Ms Grey,” she teased. “Now I know that can’t be as kinky as it sounded just now, so I’m curious. If you two aren’t aliens – which I’m not entirely sold on, by the way – what am I? What do you mean ‘my standards’?”

“I didn’t mean to offend, Skye,” Simmons apologised. “It’s just a little obscure. Fitz and I, we’re in what’s called a ‘queer-platonic’ relationship. It’s like, well it is friendship I suppose, but it’s… deeper than that. It’s like, friendship with the commitment of a romantic relationship. But without the actual romance.”

Skye frowned.

“Isn’t that just like, really good friendship?”

“Well, in a way, yes,” Simmons explained, and then took a deep breath that warned Skye she was in for an info-dump.

“But also, no. See, the term ‘platonic’ has its origins in Ancient Greek and could actually be used refer to any non-sexual non-familial love. It simply means ‘confined to thought and concept, and not resulting in action’, which in this case would be sex. So technically, non-sexual romantic acts are also platonic. Well, they were. I mean, the evolution of language does have to be taken into consideration, obviously, which is where the ‘queer’ part of it comes in. It doesn’t refer to Fitz’s or my orientations but rather, to the relationship itself - ‘queering’ the definition of platonic as we know it today, to make it more resembling of the older, wider version. At least, that’s how I see it.”

Skye blinked, speechless for a moment.

“Cool,” she said slowly, once she had run it over in her head and absorbed it. Fitz shook his head, and simplified.

“Skye. When you first met us, did you assume we were friends or a couple?”

“… a couple?” Skye confessed.

“When you found out we were ‘just friends,’ did that make sense to you?”

“Of course!”

Fitz and Jemma glared a little. Skye rolled her eyes, blushing with chagrin.

“Alright, I still wanted you two to get together and I still thought maybe you had or should have had something going on. But that happens to loads of friends, right?”

“Sure, probably,” Fitz agreed.

“Especially those of different sexes,” Simmons put in.

“But for us, we like to have the label,” Fitz explained. “It’s a different type of companionship, that’s all. It’s a very deep, very special connection that we share, that’s different to how we relate to other people. Some people might experience something similar and call it love; other people might call it friendship. We call it queerplatonic. It’s our special balance, that’s all.”

Skye frowned, still absorbing. It made as much sense as it didn’t make, and strangely enough, it seemed like a perfect concept to describe a relationship such as theirs. Two people who insisted they were not in love even though, by all accounts, they appeared to be. Perhaps they were not in denial after all, but simply, in a balance?

“Tell me more?” Skye requested.

“Of course!”

“We’d be glad to.”

Excited to share this oft-undiscovered part of their life with such an open mind as Skye’s, FitzSimmons beckoned her further into the room, so that all three of them sat on the bed – it was too small a space otherwise, anyway.

“Are you guys exclusive?” Skye wondered. “And, do you – you know – have sex? Or could you? Is queerplatonic a Thing? Do other ones work like yours?”

“It’s the same as with all relationships,” Fitz explained. “No two look exactly the same and like I said before, one person’s queerplatonic might be another’s romance or friendship or friends-with-benefits-ship. There are lots of different arrangements. Like, homosexual QPs exist too, and some with more than two partners. It all depends on the people.”

“As does the sex,” Simmons put in. “Some QPs have it, others stay away from it, for various reasons. Fitz and I, for example, we probably wouldn’t have sex because Fitz is ace.”

She gestured to him to explain, but before he could open his mouth, Skye exclaimed an interruption.

“Oh! I know that one!” she cried. “Not a fan of sex, right?”

She high-fived him, quite pleased with herself, and continued.

“I get it. I mean, I don’t get it because sex is The Bomb, but I respect it. What about you, Simmons? Are you two exclusive?”

Simmons shrugged.

“At the moment, we are,” she said lightly, “but that’s just by default. We haven’t really talked about it either way.”

“Well, you should,” Skye suggested, “because your boy’s been flirting with me and I’m not entirely sure he knows that’s what he’s been doing but maybe it’s time to get your chips in order.”

Fitz blushed, chagrined. Simmons blinked at him, a little surprised.

“By the way, sorry man,” Skye continued, “you’re a good guy but you’re just not my type. In case we’re getting our wires crossed here.”

Fitz raised his hands in surrender.

“I understand. No crossed wires.”

“It was worth a shot. I appreciate the appreciation.”

“My pleasure.”

“You’re a good guy and you’ll find a real romantic partner someday, if you want one,” Skye continued, putting a sympathetic hand on Fitz’s knee, and Fitz laughed.

“Is this a breakup speech? You shouldn’t have.”

“Hey, you’re my friend, and I’ll wingman you if you want me to. The offer still stands – I mean, if it’s okay with Jemma, I guess?” Skye glanced between them, still not sure exactly where the line lay on this sort of thing. Simmons waved her back to Fitz, who shrugged, and then put an arm around Simmons’ shoulders.

“No thanks.” He grinned. “I think I’ve got everyone I need right here.”

#fitzsimmons #fsfic #ace!fitz #thefitzsimmonsnetwork #aospositivitynet #prompt me stuff #brot3: bus kids #clara's fic tag #buskidsburgade

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jaeminlore · 7 years

Text

No Pain No Gain // Kim Myungjun

the prompt: I was wondering if I could get a MJ college au where he has a crush on the school nurse so he ‘gets hurt’ a lot? Have a lovely day!!

words: 2177

category: fluff

author note: this was the cutest and I had a fun time writing it! Also, I made MJ pretty cheeky bc I feel like he would be like that irl.

- destinee

Sick kids could be very annoying. As an intern in nursing school, you were offered the opportunity to practice as a school nurse for your university.

The amount of college students who came in to your little office was ridiculous. You never had a slow day because of all the parties students were having. You were well-known for curing hangovers just as much as you were known for patching up a simple scratch.

You never really paid attention to the people who came in and out every day. Getting your job done well and completing enough hours for your credits was all that really mattered to you.

Although, there was one boy you couldn’t ignore. He came in at least twice a week with the strangest injuries imaginable. Just last week he came in claiming that his brow bone was sore.

You had no idea what that meant and if it was technically even an ailment, but you handed him an ice pack anyway.

Another time, he came in with a paper cut, which you promptly covered with a bandaid.

He was a music major named Myungjun, although everyone called him MJ. He was popular around campus for his high vocal range and equally well-known for being loud and funny.

You wondered why he got hurt so much, or why he came in for something as simple as a paper cut. Perhaps he had a low pain tolerance?

The office was empty at the moment, so you sat on the little bed and went through your phone to pass the time.

Someone knocked on your door, and you pocketed your phone respectfully. “Come in!”

There was no surprise who stood in your doorway. MJ limped into your office and hopped up on the bed.

“What happened this time?” You asked, rolling your eyes.

“I tripped and sprained my ankle,” MJ replied.

You pursed your lips. It was so hard to believe him sometimes. “Okay, take off your shoes.”

He obliged, smiling as he showed you his ankle. “Look, its swollen.”

You examined his ankle. It wasn’t discolored or anything. It wasn’t even swollen. “Are you sure you sprained this?”

“Positive,” MJ nodded.

You pressed your fingers into his ankle and he didn’t flinch. “I don’t think it’s sprained.”

“Oh, I must’ve been mistaken,” MJ said. He shrugged innocently.

You glared at him, but his cheerful eyes deterred you from being angry. “MJ, you can’t come in here when you aren’t hurt. You’re wasting my time.”

“I only come in when I’m really hurt.” MJ insisted. “I promise.”

You didn’t believe him, “Just try to lessen your visits.”

He obviously didn’t listen to your advice, for he came in the next day, holding his ribs.

“My friend kicked me,” he huffed. “My ribs might actually be broken.”

You rolled your eyes. “MJ, one playful kick cannot brake your ribs.”

“Rocky takes Taekwondo,” MJ replied. “He can break my ribs for certain.”

“Fine. Sit down.”

MJ obliged and sat down carefully. He was sure to wince in the all the right places, enough to make you think he might not have been faking.

“Lift your shirt.” You told him.

He lifted it, raising his eyebrows expectantly.

Without thinking of his intentions to show you his clearly sculpted figure, you pushed against his ribs gently. “Does that hurt?”

“Yeah,” MJ answered. “Hey, Y/n?”

“Hmm?” You moved away and washed your hands.

“Can you tell I’ve been working out?”

You turned off the faucet and looked at MJ. Your gaze accidentally drifted to his dark and toned stomach. You cleared your throat and looked up at the ceiling. “Put your shirt down.” You told him.

MJ blinked innocently and tugged his shirt down. “Well, can you?”

Why was he even asking you a question like that? You were a nurse. You weren’t a physical trainer.

“That doesn’t matter.”

“That’s a yes,” MJ stood up.

“Be careful,” You said, reaching over to help him off of the bed. “Your ribs might still be sore.”

MJ grabbed your hands and squealed in a very unmanly way. “Do you care about me, Y/n?”

You rolled your eyes and pushed his hand away, “I’m a nurse, you idiot.”

“I didn’t hear a no,” he sang.

Your eyes couldn’t roll further up your head if they tried. “Goodbye, MJ.”

“Goodbye, Y/n!”

“I don’t care if your cat scratched you, MJ, that’s not my concern.”

MJ held out his arm, where a small puffed-up scratch decorated his wrist. “It’s infected, though.”

“So go home and put some ointment on it.” You told him.

Your mood wasn’t the best that day, which is why you were deflecting any effort MJ made to get a reaction out of you.

“Why can’t you give me ointment while I’m here?” MJ pressed.

“Because you’re not hurt!” You told him harshly. MJ’s eyes widened a bit at your raised voice.

“You’re wasting my time,” You continued. “So stop coming in here with stupid excuses! I don’t know what game you’re playing but it’s annoying and obnoxious so stop.”

MJ bowed his head shamefully and stood up.

Immediately, you felt bad for your harsh words. He wasn’t really obnoxious. In fact, his visits often amused you in a positive way. He just chose the wrong day to push you, and you lashed out on him.

All of the pressure of nursing school had been getting to you, and you kept it all bundled up until your frustration boiled over.

“MJ,” you started, reaching out for his retreating form.

“No, you’re right.” He whispered. You wished he would turn around and give you a reassuring smile. “I do come in here too much. I won’t anymore though, so don’t worry.”

He left, closing the door behind him.

It had been a month. You felt pathetic. Every time someone would knock on your door, you would pray for it to be MJ, coming in with something stupid like a stubbed toe.

His company was enjoyable for you. It had never occurred to you how much you appreciated MJ’s constant visits until he stopped them.

When he finally did come in, it was in the arms of his closest friends.

One was a fellow nursing major, Eunwoo, and the other one, Jinwoo, was here on a baseball scholarship.

Between them was MJ, held up by his friends arms.

“What happened?” You asked frantically, gesturing for them to lay MJ on the bed.

“He passed out in chorus,” Eunwoo said. He pressed a hand against MJ’s forehead. “His fever is really high.”

“Why wouldn’t he come get some medicine?” Jinwoo asked.

You knew exactly why, and the reason broke your heart. Would MJ rather faint of a fever rather than break his promise and come back to your office?

“You guys can go,” you said as you grabbed an ice pack out of the freezer. “I’ll take it from here.”

After they left, you wrapped the ice pack in a towel and brought it over to MJ. You brushed back his bangs, heavy with perspiration. His entire face glistened with sweat, and his lips trembled in a way that fever victim’s do.

You rested the ice pack on his forehead and moved around the office, grabbing supplies like ibuprofen and a thermometer.

After finding out that he was running an hundred and two degree fever, you lifted him into a sitting position.

He was somewhat awake, but he wouldn’t open his eyes or speak.

“MJ, you need to take this medicine. It’ll bring your fever down, okay?”

He sluggishly nodded, so you helped him swallow the pills.

After making him drink an entire bottle of water, you eased him back into a lying down position.

“Y/n?” MJ spoke, his voice quiet and raspy.

“I’m here,” you said, grabbing his hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. “Go back to sleep. I’ll be here.”

He obliged. You kept a hold on his hand as his breathing became slower and slower.

For the next three hours, you kept a watch on him as he slept. His temperature went down to ninety-nine degrees, which was a great improvement for him.

When he woke up, he was a tad disoriented. You came over to his side and checked his temperature again. He looked up at you, and asked, “Are you an angel?”

Only he still had the thermometer under his tongue, so it sounded like, “Aru a anthel?“

The gleam in his eyes was back, so you knew he was just teasing you again.

Your smile grew, until you were reminded of why he came in here so late anyway. “Never scare me like that again,” you said sternly. “Why would you not come here with a fever? The one legitimate illness you have and you don’t come. What is that all about?”

MJ sat up and looked at you guiltily. “You told me not to come back. I was afraid that the fever wasn’t that serious and I would waste your time.”

“I’m sorry for lashing out at you.” You said. MJ watched as you wring you hands together nervously and continued, “I had a bad day and I took it out on you. The truth is, I really enjoy your company. Without you my job is really boring.”

“Really?” MJ’s voice lifted. His lips broke into a smile. “I knew the Myungjun charm would pull through.”

“That was definitely it,” you deadpanned. Then, resuming your nurse status, you handed MJ a bottle of medicine. “Take two of these pills once for the next two days, just to make sure the fever is completely gone.”

“Okay.” MJ accepted the bottle. “You always take good care of me, Y/n.”

You stopped in your tracks. “O-of course. I take good care of all my patients.”

MJ’s words had unwillingly made you blush. He was right, you always took good care of him because you had become quite fond of the troublemaker. Of course, you couldn’t let him think that.

“I’ll let you say whatever you want,” MJ teased, “but I know you took care of me the whole time I was out. That means you care.”

You rolled your eyes, “Just leave before I really get annoyed by you.”

MJ smiled and gave you a mock-salute. “Yes, ma'am.”

You shook your head at him fondly as he left the room.

Just the next week, MJ was back to his old self. His fever was gone and his energy was back to its normal level.

This time, he slipped into your office holding out his thumb. “I pricked it on a thorn and now it’s bleeding.”

As you bandaged it, MJ peered down at you, “Aren’t you going to ask me how I pricked it.”

You sighed, “How did you prick it, MJ? I’m dying to know.”

MJ ignored your sarcasm and smiled proudly. “I was picking a rose to give to my girlfriend.”

Without warning, your heart dropped to your stomach. “You have a girlfriend?”

Why did you even care?

“Well, not yet.” MJ gave you a cheeky smile. “I’m going to confess to her with the rose. Then she’ll be my girlfriend.”

“Oh,” you finished wrapping his thumb with a bandaid. “Well, good luck.”

“Thanks!” MJ chuckled softly. “She doesn’t like me much so I wonder what she’ll say.”

You swallowed your pride. “I’m sure she’ll say yes.”

You looked up to see MJ already looking at you. His eyes fell to your lips before he licked his own and turned away. “Would you?”

“Would I what?”

He looked at you again, his eyes holding your gaze. “Would you say yes, if it was you.”

You could feel his breathing across you face, and it only made you lean closer to him subconsciously.

His lips were inches from yours. He waited for your answer. “Would you, Y/n?”

You slowly nodded. That was all the confirmation he needed to close the gap and give you a soft kiss.

His lips molded into yours and you felt his arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

You kissed him back, accepting your own feelings towards the eccentric boy.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for the longest time,” MJ mumbled when the two of you parted. His eyes were still closed as he leaned his forehead against yours. “It’s really a shame I forgot to bring the rose.”

You laughed and slapped his arm. “You scared me. I thought you liked someone else.”

MJ rolled his eyes, “Why would I come into your office three times a week if I weren’t interested in you?”

“I don’t know. Your excuses sucked by the way.”

“Hey, the kick in the ribs wasn’t an excuse. I actually asked Rocky to kick me in the ribs.”

“Really?” You looked up at him in disbelief.

MJ reached down and kissed your nose, “No pain, no gain is what I always say.”

“Your ridiculous.”

“And I’m all yours,” He shot you a smirk.

“Unfortunately, yes.”

~the end~

#astro scenario #astro scenarios #astro imagines #astro reactions #astro au #college au #mj scenarios #kim myungjun #astro myungjun #mj fluff #nurse au #myungjun scenario #destwrites #myungjun #mj #astro mj

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