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muertawrites · 2 years

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Following a Siren (Eddie Munson x Reader) [18+]

Summary: Corroded Coffin desperately needs a singer to help balance out their first ever album. Lucky for them, Eddie shares a hall with a certified siren.

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: 18+ only because i went a little crazy with perv!eddie (i just love him ok). i might write a second part where he gets to live his little fantasy... 👀 sappy romcom shit that i hate watching / reading but have no problem writing

Author’s Note: aged everyone up to their mid-late 20s when everybody is out of hawkins and happy. posting this unedited because it’s 4am and i have to at least try to get some sleep. inspired by my own experience singing this song in my high school choir (it’s so much fun the chorus parts are better than the solos) and amber riley’s performance which is the only redeeming quality of the glee version.

"I'm telling you, man, it's not gonna work. We need a chick."

Eddie glances between Gareth and Jeff, arms braced against the back of a chair, lips pursed together in frustration.

It's been hours and they still can't get any of the harmonies right. They're so close, but the song is just... unmemorable. A song easily and readily skipped, when it has the potential to be a totally amazing, stop-what-you're-doing, turn-the-volume-up, cream-in-your-pants showstopper. And Corroded Coffin needs it to be a showstopper; this is their first album - recorded in an actual studio with professional equipment and a genuine producer -and they can't blow their one chance at glory by having it flop.

But Gareth is right - it isn't going to work. They need vocals in a much higher range to balance out their lower tones. Unfortunately, they know about as many women between them as they did in high school.

"We can't afford to pay anyone," Jeff states. "Why don't we just scrap it?"

"We can't scrap it," Eddie quips. "It's too damn good. It just needs a little push."

"Could we do the harmony with instrumentals?" Gareth suggests. "You could just sing with the guitar."

"Nah, that wouldn't have the right umph," Eddie disagrees. "A vocal harmony would smash way harder."

"So we're stuck."

Eddie sighs, raking a hand through his hair.

"... I'll figure something out," he decides. "Just gimme some time. We're gonna do this if it fucking kills me."

Eddie huffs as he throws himself down onto his couch, snapping the tab on a beer can as he takes a long drag from a freshly rolled joint.

He's totally fucked. There's no way in hell he can find someone on short notice, with no budget, to carry the missing harmony. Nothing he has scrawled in the various notebooks stashed around his studio apartment is anywhere near finished, and even if it were, it wouldn't live up to what they already have.

Nobody will ever hear the song the way it's supposed to be heard. The thought crushes him.

The chime of keys and tread of boots echoes from the hallway, distracting Eddie from his visions of doom; you've returned home for the day. He closes his eyes, letting his mind wander to you - how you smiled sleepily at him this morning when you left for work, how pretty you looked in the dress you wore, how your lips were chapped and split, darkened with dry blood towards the center, how sweet your groggy laughter sounded when he said something stupid in passing. You've lived across the hall from him for the better part of a year - sharing the space above a convenience store, where you run into each other constantly - and his thoughts have been consumed by you since the day you moved in.

His cock twitches in his jeans, perking up at the images of you flitting around in his skull. Shame starts to rise in his stomach, but that doesn't stop him from going completely hard. He sighs.

C'mon man, don't be gross.

But it's too late. He's already relapsed into his favorite fantasy about you; inviting you backstage after one of his gigs and fucking you so hard you can't speak, skirt hiked up, panties pushed aside, makeup smeared and running as he drives you toward a messy, mewling orgasm. Holding you against his chest and kissing your lips, your face, your neck as you ride out the high.

His hand is in his pants before he can think better of it.

He's barely two strokes in when a gorgeous sound breaks him from his sexed-out haze. It starts as a simple chime, floating on the air as effortlessly as dust, before slowly growing louder, more joyous, every note driven with the force of a hurricane.

It's you.

You're singing.

And you're incredible.

Eddie springs to his feet, jeans still completely undone. He rushes across the hall, tapping frantically at the door to your apartment; your singing stops, and he almost regrets interrupting you for the loss.

The door swings open and you give him a once over, smirking amusedly when you clock his open fly, boxers tugged down to reveal the tiniest patch of his pubic hair.

"Eddie, I'm flattered," you tease, "but a date first would be nice."

"Shit, fuck, sorry."

He stuffs himself back into his pants, grinning bashfully before clearing his throat, leaning an arm against the doorframe as casually as he can. You can't help but giggle, having spent enough time with him that you'd developed an ever-growing crush on the eccentric, well-meaning man.

"What's up?" you ask.

"My band," he tells you. "We desperately need a singer and I think you're perfect."

He pauses for a moment, thinking over what he's said.

"As a singer!" he quickly clarifies. "As a singer."

You smile, biting your lip and entirely unable to stop the warmth that creeps across your cheeks. The way you gaze up through your lashes at Eddie makes him weak in the knees.

"I haven't done any serious singing since high school," you admit. "And never anything like you guys do. Plus... aren't you the vocalist?"

Eddie scoffs, waving away your statement with a slender, ring-adorned hand.

" 'Vocalist' is a stretch," he chuckles. "All I do is carry a tune. And it wouldn't be just you, anyway, we'd sing together. We can cover up each other's mistakes."

You sigh, still not entirely convinced.

"... I don't know. Like I said, I've never performed in a band before and I just... I would feel bad if I brought you guys down. I'm really not that good."

Eddie furrows his brow in confusion, craning his neck toward you as if you just told him Ozzy was a mediocre musician. He raises a hand to your forehead.

"Are you feeling okay?" he questions. "Your voice is fucking amazing! Why would I run over here with my pants down if it wasn't?"

He dramatically falls onto his knees, taking one of your hands in both of his as he fixes you with a pleading gaze. His thumbs softly stroke at your knuckles, causing an involuntary chill to run down your spine.

"Fair maiden from across the hall," he laments, "gentle lady with the voice of a siren, do us the honor of gracing us with your divine beauty. For my gratitude, I shall henceforth keep the volume on my stereo at a reasonable level, and shower you with the finest tributes of pizza and iced coffee."

You laugh, far too endeared by his antics for your own good.

"Get up, you goon," you playfully scold. "I'll come to your practice tomorrow for an audition. How about that?"

"Yes!"

Eddie springs to his feet, wrapping you in his arms and spinning you with joy.

"Thank you," he says as he sets you down. "Thank you thank you thank you thank you, you're a fucking life saver. You won't regret it, I promise."

He plants a kiss on your cheek, leaving you brimming with butterflies as he darts back into his apartment. He pops his head back out a moment later, phone in hand.

"What do you want on your pizza?"

At promptly six o’clock the next evening, you climb the steps to the little apartment in downtown Indianapolis that serves as Corroded Coffin’s makeshift studio. It’s an attic space, with slanted ceilings and wood floors padded with dirty, worn-out flea market rugs; posters featuring the likes of Sabbath and Megadeath line the walls, and most of the light is provided by a little circular window and a string of white Christmas bulbs strung along the edge of the room. The air is heavy with the scent of cannabis and incense. You’re reminded of Eddie’s apartment as you step inside, a fact you hate to admit calms your nerves a little bit.

“Alright.”

Eddie claps his hands together, grinning at you with his guitar slung over his shoulder.

“What beautiful sounds will you be blessing us with today, gorgeous?”

You purse your lips, taking a deep breath as you try to remind yourself that you’re good at this - there’s no reason to be so anxious.

“You guys know any Queen?” you ask, sounding meeker than you intend.

“Of course we do!” Gareth chirps from behind the drum set.

“How about you just start singing, yeah?” Jeff chimes in. “We’ll join in. We do better by ear, anyway.”

You nod, stepping up to the microphone as Eddie presses the start button on the tape recorder in the corner of the room. You clear your throat, inhaling slowly, holding the breath for a moment in your stomach before letting it go in a light, tentative note.

“Can... an-y-bo-dy... find me-e-e-e... somebody to-o...”

Eddie strums the last note on his guitar, making you smile.

As you start up the first verse, Jeff and Gareth follow your lead, backing up your low, contemplative words with matching instrumentals. To your surprise, Eddie takes over the choral accompaniment, hitting each note as if he’s listened to the song a million times over; his voice compliments yours so well you sound make a symphony together, the vibration of your harmonies causing chills to rush through your body like an electric shock.

“I get down on my knees and I start to pray ‘til the tears run down from my eyes!”

Your confidence builds with the song, each note you sing becoming a little more soulful, a little more impassioned as the verse presses on. You lose yourself in the music, having always loved this song and how weightless it makes you feel. Your eyes are locked on Eddie, swaying in time with each strum of his pick across the guitar strings, consumed by the starstruck look in his eye and the expert movement of his ringed fingers. It’s like magic, how enchantingly beautiful you sound together.

“I try and I try and I try-y-y! But e-e-e-ev’rybody wants to put me down; they say I’m goin’ crazy! They say I gotta lotta water in my brain; I got no common sense; I got nobody left to believe!”

“YEAH! YEAH! YEAH! YE-EAH!”

The final throes of the verse are shouted, Jeff and Gareth playing off your enthusiasm with as much excitement as if they were playing to a packed stadium. You bang your head with each beat, thrashing with their heavy rendition of the song, thoroughly enjoying every second. Your voices fade into the shredding wail of Eddie’s guitar, hammered out into an exquisite solo that leads into the final verse.

You reach your favorite part of the song; when all goes silent, the slow climb up to the huge finale. Jeff starts you off, his powerful bass rumbling over the speakers.

“Find, me, somebody to lo-ove...”

Then comes Gareth’s baritone, picking up the harmony in just the right spot. Eddie follows soon after in his achingly handsome tenor, and you fall in line behind him, uttering out the quiet pieces of the harmony that many miss in the chorus.

“Me somebody, to, lo-ove...”

Eddie’s voice breaks out of the din.

“Somebody!”

You fire back, hitting the high note without flinching.

“Somebody!”

You shoot back and forth at each other, your higher voice countering Eddie’s lower one in playful symmetry, until you reach the end of the short duel.

“Somebody find me somebody to love! Can anybody find me-e-e-e...?”

The men stop playing, pausing with rapt attention on you, anticipating how you’ll drive through the song’s climax. You take a deep breath, entirely unafraid of what you’re about to do.

“Somebody to-o-o... lo-o-o-o-o-o-o-ove!”

The notes soar from your chest, deafening everything else in the room - hell, in the world, probably. Eddie is the first to cheer, bounding up and down in uncontained joy at just how powerful you are; the other men follow suit, picking up where they left off a few beats too late from being so swept up in your tidal wave of sound.

Eddie finishes out the song gazing at you with dreamy, sparkling eyes, his chest fluttering as you look back at him and match his voice in perfect harmony. You really are a siren, and he’ll follow you to the depths of the sea if it means you’re the last sound ringing in his ears.

All is calm as you follow Eddie out onto the street a few hours later, stepping into the late night cold of the bustling city.

He turns to you, staring at you for a moment in giddy silence. Then, he lets out a celebratory shout as he wraps his arms around you, lifting you off the pavement and twirling you around. You laugh, your own arms falling around his neck, blushing furiously as he paints your face with kisses.

“You. Are. Amazing!” Eddie cheers as he sets you back onto solid ground. “Oh my fucking god, that was incredible! You saved us! You beautiful, divine, ethereal goddess! My fucking heroine!”

He captures you in another crushing hug, lips planting themselves firmly on your cheek once more.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

At first, you think he’s joking. But the breathless way he says it, the starry look in his wide, childlike eyes, the tender grip of his hand at your waist, all convey the truth. And you can’t lie to yourself - watching him play, hearing his voice entwined with yours, sharing the intimacy of song... you’re pretty certain you’re in love with him, too.

“... Kiss me,” you whisper.

“... What?”

You giggle, his dumbstruck expression the most adorable thing you think you’ve ever seen.

“Kiss me,” you repeat. “Baby, pull the string...”

A smile curls across Eddie’s face, his grip on you tightening.

“Did you... just quote Van Halen at me?”

You nod.

“Oh yeah,” he decides. “Comin’ in hot.”

You giggle, smiling into the kiss as he presses his lips to yours, leaning his whole body into the movement until you’re flush against him. God, his lips are plush, and he tastes deliciously like his last cigarette, and his chest is hard and broad, and he looms above you like some sort of ivory tower, captivating and unmovable. You clutch at the lapels of his leather jacket, never wanting this kiss to end.

Eddie hums softly as you pull apart, his eyes remaining closed for a moment as if he’s still savoring your lips. When he opens them, they’re lidded, lost within yours as he holds you in a lovers’ embrace on the corner of a busy street.

“Let’s get you home,” he murmurs. “Then we can make some more music together.”

🌹💀 get your eddie fix 💀🌹

#muerta's works #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #perv!eddie #perv!eddie x reader #minors dni

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mister-eames · 8 months

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1/2 #james dean mona lisa... literally the most perfect eamesian description i ever did see. now im imagining being poor arthur & having to suffer through eames' effortless james dean mona lisa-ian ways. like the man's just trying to do his job! but arthur makes the mistake of glancing up from his work one day & there's eames... lit doing nothing..just sitting there lost in thought & he's the most beautiful delectable looking man on earth.. & maybe the last of the evening's sun just hits the

I'm so sad that tumblr ate the second part to your ask nonnie, I'm so sorry where my brain went while missing it -- but I imagine Arthur is particularly struck by this image - Eames sat still, lips pursed in concentration, mind visibly working behind his eyes.

Arthur's stomach somersaults. Eames looks.... he looks---

Reprimanding himself, Arthur turns back to his own work. Opens and closes Excel. Starts an email. And then he sneaks another look at Eames, orange sunlight catching the red in his stubble and eyelashes, the warmth of his skin - and it shouldn't be attractive. Eames is not Arthur's type. Except isn't any kind of type, because Eames is what, exactly? Everything and nondescript at the same time. Feminine and masculine. Gentle and acerbic. Forward and reserved. Rough, rugged, graceful and breathtakingly lovely.

Fucks sake, Arthur chides himself. Get a grip. We do not like this guy.

This is the guy that when first meeting Arthur looked him up and down and said "Why the long face, toots?" - he's a menace. A prick. A pig.

Okay, he has a few redeeming factors, so what. Annoyed, with the dying sun, with Eames, with himself, Arthur flicks through his notebook. And whilst he never claims to have artistic inclinations, is deeply inspired to draw out this visage imprinted onto his brain on his Eames Page, the one he keeps just in case. For posterity. This fucker might be wanted one day.

It takes him fifteen minutes, but he's pretty happy with it:

#crack #arthur the artist #im sorry i don't know why this inspired arthur to do this #eames finds this page one day #and...does not know what to say #but he steals it and keeps it in his wallet #its pretty accurate #arthur x eames #im dying to know what the second part of the ask was #im so sorry my brain went to a weird place

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sparkledfirecracker · 1 year

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What if Intimate Course Ransom had waited for reader at the clubhouse straight after that first encounter instead of both of them semi-avoiding each other?

You made me do something I don’t normally like doing. I reread both Intimate Course and Fore!Play, because I barely remembered what hoe juice I put in both stories, haha.

Then I started thinking about this and I could only think of the following two scenarios. The only question remaining; could Ransom redeem himself or would he crash and burn?

Neither drabble is beta’d and quickly written on my phone.

Still weary of the mirage that had happened you placed your golf bag on the floor. The throb between your legs still a reminder of Ransom.

Mindlessly you walked up the steps towards the entrance of the country club. Totally missing the other person that came rushing down. You let out a yelp as you felt yourself fall over and braced for impact. Landing softly and recognizing the scent immediately.

“Hunter, watch where you’re going next time.” The familiar voice yelled. With your feet standing back straight again. You looked at Ransom, a cheesy wink was all it took for your body to desire more of him.

“Thank you.” You spoke, straightening out your shirt and skirt.

“No need. You would’ve done the same thing for me.”

You laughed, looking back to see his offended features, making you laugh even louder.

“No offense, but I probably would’ve stepped aside or have launched myself along with your downfall.” You chuckled, trying your best to stop the scenario from playing in your head. “I’m a little too clumsy to play a knight in shining armor.”

With his interest peeked, he raised an eyebrow.

“Care to tell me all about it while your scream my name?”

“Nice try casanova.” You patted his chest with a flat hand, passing by him. Having walked up a few steps, you turned on your heels. “I guess this time, I’ll be seeing you around, Ransom.”

His dumbfounded look was your new favourite image. The way he kept silent and stared back at you made you let out a chuckle as you kept walking into the country club.

You stretched your shoulder as you placed your golf bag down. Giving yourself a mental note to take a trolley or golf cart the next time.

The country club wasn’t your favourite place to be. Simply because your mother always hung around somewhere. Making polite conversation with Sally and Mary. You rolled your eyes as the thought of her playing matchmaker yet again.

Poor Evan, totally ambushed and dragged into one of your mothers schemes of setting you up with “a nice guy”. You shuddered at the thought, those types of men were a walking red flag on its own. Men at the country club were barely the nice guy. Most of them pompous snobs with too much money, thinking they were the hotshots of the hour.

“Vodka-soda please.” You smiled at the bartender, completely parched from your interesting round on the green. It was twelve o’clock somewhere in the world right?

You turned your head as you heard loud laughter coming from the seating area. Rolling your eyes at the sight of Ransom bragging about something to his friends. His mood changed when one of the guys looked your way.

Quickly looking away when Ransom had caught you staring yet couldn’t help but smile when you heard him growl a “stay away from her, Hunter.”

A warmth running through your veins at the possession. Thanking the bartender for your drink. Mindlessly rounding the liquid in your glass with the cocktail stirrer.

“Hi there.”

“Shouldn’t you control your harem?” You questioned not looking away from your glass and waved towards the table filled with rowdy men.

Ransom threw his head back laughing. Shaking his head, propping himself up on his elbows, leaning on the bar top. You could’ve killed the intrusive thoughts as you gotten a glance of his bicep bulging against the seam of his shirt.

“They can take care of themselves.”

“Whatever it is you came to do, I’m not interested.”

You wished you hadn’t said it as Ransom tilted his head your way. Plucking the stirrer from your hands licking it clean.

“Your nervous demeanor says otherwise, Tee.”

“Stop observing me. Whatever happened was a mistake.” You grumbled, taking a big gulp of your drink.

“I truly wonder if that pussy of yours is just as tight as your attitude.” He sighed as if he was already daydreaming about drowning inside your cunt.

The thought made an electric spark to course your veins. Clenching down on large cock. You swallowed at the thought of how he had felt. The hardened outline pressing into your clothed ass.

You shook your head, this could never happen. This morning he took advantage of your weakness and with a huff, you looked down at your glass. Without a second thought you pushed off the bar, stomping your foot on his. For a second lingering a little and digging it in. Launching the last of your vodka in his face.

“As if, asshole.”

You glared back when you heard his friends hollering and laughing loud at the crash and burn. As you were about to march off, Ransom grabbed your elbow, making your body crash flush against his.

The air crackled between you both. Shifting under his intense gaze. As your eyes wandered from his eyes to his lips and back.

“Remember that I always get what I want.” Ransom whispered on a barely audible tone. “And I will be seeing you around.”

Without another breath wasted he let you go. For a second time that day he had left you confused and in awe of the game he was willing to play.

#lilo gives answers #lilos writing #ghotifishreads #ask game #asks are always open #asks are always welcome #ransom drysdale × reader

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lediz-watches · 1 year

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Hang on to your life

In this episode, Carlos proves himself The Best Hero and I love him.

Side note – the episode image from the wiki (which is where I get these from) could not have picked a more 70s dressed set image if it possibly tried. Also: BREAD.

I’m liveblogging The Winchesters as a Supernatural!virgin. Please keep my lack of knowledge in mind if you continue...

In episode thoughts:

Ha. Cat scare. And here I was thinking about how Buffy taught me to enjoy the irony of a guy going down a dark alley to die

He… appears to be smoking? Like, literally?

Oh. Spontaneous Combustion. Or not so spontaneous, it seems. But will there be a foot left behind?

Really, John? You’re asking if she’s out NOW? Timing, my dude.

Ugh. Okay, on the one hand, I enjoy an episode where my two favourites get to take the lead, but on the other hand… actually, pause, I have to talk about this because I think it’s important.

By staying behind, John is making it clear that Mary is his priority over the job. And normally, that would be a good thing, because it shows balance and emotional connection over the whole violence thing. It would be a sign he can be redeemed. But the thing is, he doesn’t normally do this, and following on from his not great timing earlier, to me this feels… uncomfortable. As I’m writing this, I realise that it feels vaguely controlling. Like the sort of behaviour that implies he’s more doing it because he wants to keep an eye on Mary and make sure she doesn’t make any decisions about her life without him having a say in it.

And I do know that’s me making assumptions, probably. I hope I’m just reaching and misreading because I dislike John as a character, but right now, as I’m watching it, that’s how it feels.

And it is NOT MADE BETTER by Carlos’s response of “I’ll allow it”, as much as that was played as a joke, because… dude, Carlos, you’re still a man, and in this context, that statement feels like you are ‘allowing’ a boy to stay with your female friend. This is how people read too much into fiction and make unhealthy connections and hyper!feminist critique and get angry and ughhhh stop doing this…!

Okay moving on, sorry, I’m done.

I appreciate this bartender. I feel his hospitality pain.

…Yeah, Carlos is so Rivers Gemini forever now. It suits him, and that bed jacket he’s wearing today.

Mary. MARY. Note the flag. I know I said I’m done, but NOTE THE FLAG.

So, Rivers, what’s the need to get out?

Oh look, another character I’m supposed to recognise and don’t! The music insists. I’m sure I’ll figure that out later.

Aw, Carlos misses the life that could have been. That’s sad but exactly the sort of the thing I was hoping for from Mary! Why is Carlos’s understated backstory everything I wanted from Mary?

Oh. Maybe hat-guy isn’t supposed to be recognised so much as future important.

Wait, so Ada knows Mary’s dad. I didn’t think he was a Man of Letters? Are Men of Letters and Hunters the same thing? That hasn’t been clarified!

Okay, no. Mary’s dad doesn’t like the Men of Letters. But he does know Ada. And Ada was definitely one of Henry’s partners, and Henry was a Man of Letters. I AM SO CONFUSED.

Feather guy was gonna burn Jericho… but went for the bartender? For why?

That’s a cool tattoo. I like it. Probably not worth the burning humans, but still cool.

Okay, he’s not a look or aesthetic style of Loki that I’d like, but I do enjoy a trickster god.

Yes, Sam, you’re right. This sudden character development from the crew is ridiculous in less than a few months. I love them, but I agree, this is very strange that we’re supposed to believe this happened the way it did.

He’s also right that Mary’s a stubborn jackass. And I do like that this all happened because Sam realised he’d screwed up as a parent. And was his misguided attempt to get her out of the game. Oh, yes, I like this so much. Now I just want her to realise that she wanted the choice, but also wanted the game.

SUBTITLES THAT TRANSLATE SPANISH! IMPROVEMENTS!

Oh, Loki, you bastard trickster. This is cruelty to a hero.

And sure enough, Carlos is the hero I want.

G-gli- glitter?

Oh, but Loki, you will. These are the rules of gods. You test humanity and if humanity succeeds, you must accept it.

Awwww Carlos and Mary (and Lata being a brat in the background) and I love it so much!

Look, Samuel, I appreciate the sentiment, but I would be way happier with you if you said ‘hey, so, Ada found this thing and I’m planning to go help her out. You can come, but we also need to find those places again, and your team is great, so maybe we could split up’

Come oooon, Carlos, live the dream again for a minute

Because yeah, this you, I buy 100%. Is good food for the fangirl.

Also, I kind of want this cover on my spotify now.

M-Millie, what are you doing in this montage right now?

Oh, Mary… oh Mary.

And that’s another flag, that he’s not focussed on her when she’s saying THAT, of all things. I mean, I know the fans are freaking out right now, but come on. That was a big statement for this woman, pay her some goddamn mind.

Let’s just cut out John so I can enjoy this, because it was actually a great episode and I really loved a lot of it!

I love Carlos. I love his story, I love that he gave up his dreams to DO GOOD, that he was willing to sacrifice and sacrifice to the end, and that that, in fact, was his saving grace, and he was still given a moment to be the man he wanted to be, WHILE loving his life and his family and arghh he’s such a wonderful character I love him so much!

And Samuel! The whole story being a result of Samuel screwing up his attempt to set things right! The fact that he acknowledged that his father screwed him up, so he screwed up Mary and Maggie, and when he lost Maggie he knew he needed to save Mary, but he didn’t COMMUNICATE so it all went to hell, and ladies and gentlemen this is what happens when you don’t COMMUNICATE and –

And he’s so proud of the leader his little girl has become! Because all she ever really needed was a chance to be a hero and look at her becoming so much better than Samuel or his father or any of them ever were and –

AND LATA IS SUCH A LITTLE BRAT I LOVE HER SO MUCH.

Gah! Chapter Nine, right, right, moving on. (or back to chapter one if you care.)

#the winchesters #have I mentioned I love Carlos yet?#Because I love Carlos #And Lata is a brat so I love her too #choosing good to the end #we're ignoring john and mary's whole deal for our mental health #Samuel is a very good flawed paternal figure #basically I almost loved this whole episode

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thepeakyfckingblinders · 3 years

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White Lies - part II || Thomas Shelby x reader

⤠ MASTERLIST⤟

↬ Part One ↫

Summary: White lies can lead to tragic outcomes.

Warnings: swearing, angst, a tiny hint of violence, May Carleton insert, slight smut

Author’s notes:

Behind each one of these works there are sleepless nights and something really close to multiple mental breakdowns, so, please, take a minute to send me a message about it, I need actual feedbacks to understand how to improve my skills and grow ♡

I’m sorry babes, for everything. Love you ♡

Also this is getting me on my knees, I've been through a terrible writer's block (I'm still dealing with it tbh) so I know this second part won't be as good as the first one, can't put into words how frustrating it is for me, wish I could do better, but apparently I just can't now. Hope you'll like it anyway.

If you want to be added to my tag list, please, directly message me

I’m Italian, English isn’t my first language, so I apologize for every possible mistake I made. Also, please, help me improve my writing by telling me if there’s something wrong

ENJOY!

Your hands kept trembilng with nerves while you tried to stuff as many things as possible in the beige luggage Thomas had bought in Lambeth earlier that month, in view of his upcoming business trip to Brighton; or at least that was what he had fed you: new opportunities coming from international sea trades, something they couldn’t have missed, he said.

Well, if that was true, he wouldn’t have had much trouble in buying a new one.

All at once, a painful knot of mixed emotions dug into your venter, leading your teeth to pitylessly drown in your lower lip, in a desperate attempt to hold back tears; curled locks falling before your eyes with every abrupt movement you made in order to leave that house without coming across your fianceé. Yet, unfortunately, there was no way to avoid the compulsive thoughts haunting you. Ruthless flashes about your recent encounter at the Garrison flooded your sore mind, bringing along a wave of vivid images freshly framed by your brains, splitting your breath in a thousand little shards and corroding your trust with each passing second.

You could see him, holding her the way he did with you, placing his callous palms around her waist and letting his fingers viciously pierce her exposed skin only to bring her closer and closer, as if to erase the boundary between their bodies.

You could see his volluptuos lips, stroking the spot right beneath her jaw, whispering profane words against her fervent flesh in an obscene confession, waiting for her to redeem all of his sins with the inviting warmth of her thighs.

You could see his marble hips, diving in hers again and again, conducing an unmerciful assault; the sweetest battle to fight, one able to mend his intangible war wounds.

For a brief moment, the walls revolved around you, creating a pale vortix tainted by the bluish light filtering through the windows without any cloud to cross its path; night had fallen on Birmingham and that melancholic atmosphere just made everything harder as your watery irises run upon every corner of your bedroom, unintentionally trying to absorbe each detail of the safe heaven in which your love had flared and expired.

That was a burdensome decision to make, but you were well aware of how those things worked; you had seen it on your mother's flesh, you had seen hope sprout into her eyes every time your father came back home, hands holding his cap and face performing the most compelling expression of guilt. On a regular basis, he begged her to forgive his weakness, that's how he called it; still now you knew there was no weakness in what he did, he wanted to, he deliberatley chose to act that way. Every single time, he promised not to hurt her again, and every single time, she embreaced him, turning her other cheek, because it's what you do when you love someone, that's what she said while he prepared to slap her again; yet you knew now that affection should grow out of respect, that loving someone shouldn't leave you wretched, never. Thereby, your childhood had passed watching your father systematically break both his vows and your mother's heart, only sparing her for a few weeks, a few months when she was lucky; a miserable fate that you had sworn you wouldn't have shared.

Due to those acrimonious memories, your previous haste had now given way to a leaden attempt to say goodbye, as your feet stumbled towards Tommy’s beside-table until your fingertips were able to trace the dark groove gouged by his initials into the bright metal of his favourite cigarette-case, the one you’d given him, the one meant “for special occasions”, he said. Eyelids harshly shut because of the sharp hiss tearing up your ears, while you allowed yourserlf that single compromise, placing that relic in your bag as to preserve one last bond with him; and then you finally marched out of your own life.

Or at least you tried to.

Moments before your hand could reach for its knob, the door brusquely opened, leaving under your bewildered stare a panting Thomas with just his waistcoast and withe shirt on: sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the black bow he had worn now hanging untied around his creased collar. In a scant second, his blue orbs stroke into yours, scourging you with a wintry glare only to fall right after on the suitcase held in your right fist.

“You fucking packed your things, y/n?!” A deafening thud arose when the bag fell to the ground at the exact moment his hand slammed the door behind his shoulders with a violent blow, before running through his already messy hair; his ring shimmering in the dark together with his drizzly eyes now clutched to your face only, your feet taking a few step back when he slowly moved forward.

“You were leaving?” That atrocious question escaped his lips in a short breath and his brows took a painful fold in the process, causing a dull ache to grip your entrails at that sight.

“You were gonna leave me without a word?” Eventually, Tommy's coarse voice erupted from his scratched throat with all of its impetus, riverberating across the room and then into your eardrums so to let you gather each accent of blind sorrow and rage held through those words.

Anticipating every possible answer, Thomas took another stride in your direction, still that cautious attempt just forced you to retreat again, almost suffocated by his sole presence. Truth was that you couldn't trust yourself around that man. At times he felt like a plague corroding both your mind and body. He had sort of an arcane power enabling him to subjugate you in the sweetest way, had you let him; sometimes he was like a snake-charmer, sometimes you reckoned he was the snake himself.

“Stay away from me” Your unsteady voice finally came out, and it sounded as if it had been subdued for ages, yet his complete inability to comply with other’s will led him to neglect your first warning.

“Y/n, please-” Nevertheless, that mournful preach was soon estinguished by your harsh tone not leaving space to hesitation anymore. “Don’t fucking touch me, Thomas”

Your hands slapped his arms now dangerously close to your silhouette, but soon his firm grasp enveloped your wirsts allowing him to reduce the distance between your bodies.

“I said stay away!” you pratctically screamed in his face and your head swayed, having your locks fall forward, as you struggled to wriggle out of that deadly grip.

“No, y/n-” His calm voice once again tried to keep you in place along with his callous hands, but you were far too overwhelmed to regain your control.

"Get the fuck off me! Get off, let me go!" Histerical peaks distorted your voice as you kept writheing against him like a wild animal held captive.

"Y/n, stop! Stop it, calm down... fucking breathe" Thomas raised his tone, submerging your cries and leading your bust closer to his own so that your forearms were now trapped in between your bodies and his fingers clenched around the sleeves of your dress. Suddenly, all of your forces seemed to vanish in the dark coldness filling the room, your muscles yelding against your will.

"Let go of me" At this point your rage gave way to resignation, escaping your lips in the form of a pleading whisper, echoing your previous demands.

"Just listen to me, y/n. You need to trust me" He spoke again and you could sense a condiscendent softness in those words. You knew him too well, you knew how his silver tongue always managed to violate people's mind with such ease, making them puppets in the hands of an expert string-puller. And you hated him for trying to do the same with you.

Your wrath started to emerge again, boiling in your veins until your palm violently connected with his face for the second time that night.

"Jesus Christ, woman, what the hell is wrong with you?" Thomas growled while stroking the sensible skin right under his left cheekbone, partially tilting his head away from you as his feet put a new distance between your figures.

"I don't care how much you say otherwise, you did this to me" Jolted words left your burning throat, garbled by the tears you were desperately trying to hold back. This time it was you to step closer, accusation drenching your every gesture.

"Bullshit! I love you and you know that" Tom’s index finger mandatorily pointed at your flushed face, his blue eyes thrusting open and inviting you to reckon his indisputable truth.

“How can you expect me to believe a single syllable coming out of your mouth now?" Your fierce gaze remained locked onto his algid irises, still, despite your efforts to hold back, a few salty drops slipped off your made up lashes, pouring the dorsum of your hand as you abruptly covered your lips in order to suffocate your sobs before speaking again.

"You lie for a living, Thomas Shelby, you craved an empire out of lying" Pointing at his chest, you took another stride towards him, teeth clenched with frustration as you went on.

"And I was a deceived fool for even hoping that you could be different with me." Finally, you allowed your lungs to take a proper sip of air, relaxing your limbs long enough to let your sorrow stream through your core, while your eyes refused now to directly look at your fianceé. "But I won’t let myself fall into your trap again, not again.”

The moment his ears caught that almost inaudible whisper, Thomas threw his arms around you, his right forearm placed at the end of your back, holding you tight, while his other hand intertwined with the soft hair behind your neck, guiding your cheek close to his own so that you could perfectly feel each other's breathing, your chin partially resting above his shoulder. "Love, please..." His warm, yet lower voice filled your ears once again, and, even though you only wanted him to lull you out of that obnoxious feeling of sadness, you forcefully shut your eyelids to regain control over your tumultuous emotions.

"Tell me why I should believe you" Those distrustful words created a sharp constrast with the warmth fluttering between your bodies, as you leant against his smooth skin, involountarily seeking comfort.

"Why shouldn't you believe me? When have I ever lied to you, eh?" Tender strokes guided your head out of the croock of his neck, while Tommy grasped your face with both his palms, foreheads pressing against each other and eyes enchained.

Almost staggered by those entrancing blue seeps, scared by that extreme closeness and its venomous effects, you took a deep breath and reluctantly shied away from his embrace, turning your back on him and approaching the window in hope to retrieve some lucidity. "Yeah, right. You don't lie to me, you're much too clever for that. You just hide things"

Soon you felt Tommy's gentle grip around your arm, applying a slight pressure in order to have you turn around and face him again. "What? what do I hide from you?" His voice still soft against your mouth.

"You've been sleeping with her for months under my fucking nose" You shoved him, now screaming on the verge of that incessant emotional rollercoaster dragging you between rage and sorrow, over and over again, exhausting you.

"That's not true, and the way you're reacting just proves I was doing the right thing not telling you about May" Following your lead, Tommy rose his voice too, his eyebrows wrinkling into a disappointed look, as he tried to shift the blame on you, too bad his manipulative ways could not spellbind you; not that easily, at least.

"Don't you dare playing these twisted games with me, you bastard" Nails scratching the soft flesh of your palms now clenched and wildly thrown against his torso in a haphazard attempt to cause him some sort of pain.

"Fucking stop it, y/n! Stop!" Tommy's eyes stroke you once he'd managed to capture your wrists for the millionth time, still trying to extinguish your violent outbrusts. "Just talk to me like a damn civil person" He screamed inches away from your nose.

"Says the one who goes around cutting people and burning places down" You bitterly spit back, while your angry stare openly challenged him.

"Well, sorry, darling, but you should've thought of that before" Like a mirror, Tommy's attitude immediately emulated yours, going back to the sharp, mocking sarcasm usually clothing his speech, his pink lips curled in a taunting grin. “It's not like you didn't know how things worked around here" "Oh, there he is, the earnest, transparent man you've always been; haven't you, Thomas?" A forced laugh erupted from your throat, while you patethically exasperated your tones, brows implausibly arched, putting on a sympathetic expression almost as sardonic.

"Yes, yes, I fucking have!" His coarse shout wiped away any residual irony. "It's not my fault you still struggle with all of your insecurities, making scenes in front of my whole pub for a stupid toast" And once again he was trying to defend himself by goring you at one of your weakest points.

Trembling droplets started to dance before your dilated pupils as your strengh faded, having you feel like a bewildered kid when confronted with a thinly concealed truth. Your white teeth rabidly skewered your lower lip cloaked in the shadow cast on the rest of your face by your prone head. The whole room fell silent, only filled with your heavy breaths and the meek weeping that you had finally stopped stifling.

"Have you been with her?" Eventually, you forced your watery eyes to look back at him, while you asked that atroucious question with an apparent calm that made your own skin crawl.

"No" Thomas wasted no time denying your doubts and offered you a straight answer leading your eyelids to shut faintly, as your chin aimed towards the ceiling in a desperate attempt to process the whole thing. "Aye, look at me" His warm hands enveloped your cheeks, his thumbs fondling your wet skin until he was sure he had your attention. "No" He repeated "I'm yours, y/n, and you know that"

A well known tenderness radiated from his grieved features, accompained by the hint of a grim smile. "I'm yours in ways other people couldn't even think of, I've let you see each and every chink, every weakness" his soft lips lingered yours moultiple times, leaving you nothing more than a glimpse of a kiss. "I chose to, because I trust you with my life, you keep me sane, y/n"

Salty tears invaded your tongue as your mouths finally indulged in a proper kiss, slowly caressing each other for a few long instants, while your muscles relaxed under his loving touch. "You fucking keep me sane and I don't know what I'd do without you."

Tommy desperateky draw a trail of delicate pecks from your chin, through your cheekbones and up to your forehead, until you found yourself incapable of restraining your instincts and deepened those intimate touches, giving life to a fervent kiss able to leave you both out of breath in the space of a scant minute. Still, you kept devouring each other, until Thomas lifted you with ease, adaging your body on the soft mattress behind his back and palcing his palms behind your knees so to spread your legs and wrap them around his waist. Panting hard against your incandescent flesh, Tommy left openmouthed kisses on your face and jaw and neck, while his fingers undid the top of your dress increasingly discovering further slices of velvety skin, new hunting ground for his ravenous lips.

With just as much eagerness, you managed to free him from what was left of his elegant suit, your nails scratching his solid shoulders as you let the white and black fabrics fall to the floor, soon followed from your own clothes.

Tommy's hands promptly engulfed your now bare curves, his teeth still grazing at the already sensitive skin of your neck as his muscular torso led you to lay back, trapping you in between his half tensed arm and his mesmerizing face, as he slowly entered you, never diverting his egnited pupils from yours.

And then you felt him seize your waist and bring you closer, until your ribs almost wedged in his own. And then you felt his lips praying an unholy preach beneath your ear. And then you felt his hips drowning in your afire flesh, again and again.

But none of that was enough to heal your wounds this time.

You wanted to trust him, you wanted to believe his words and feel safe and sheltered again, with him and him only; still, you knew that, from then on, paranoia would’ve taken over with every extra hour at the office, with every night spent out, with every business trip, and that, for sure, was not the life you wanted.

You knew affection couldn’t survive the bad seeds of suspect without rotting to hate and exasperation; so you just dediced to leave your love while it was still uncorrupted, not bearing the mere thought of watching it slowly deteriorate into reciprocal disdain.

One last time, you glanced at Thomas laying pacefully asleep behind your shoulders, before you left the room with a painful burden crushing your chest.

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to-star-lake · 3 years

Text

one & only

sanzu haruchiyo x f!reader { you're sanzu's one and only. }

18+ minors dni | murder, drug use, dark themes, rough sex, choking, toxic relationship, character death, bonten sanzu

a/n: sanzu's name { 三途 } is written the same as 三途の川 { sanzu-no-kawa, “river of three crossings” or “sanzu river” } which is the japanese buddhist version of the river styx.

sanzu doesn't call you his girlfriend. he'd never use such pedestrian language to describe what you are to him. soulmate is closer. but still, to take everything he felt about you and edit it down to a single word? it wouldn't be possible.

the best he could describe it is perhaps that you were made for him.

the day mikey introduced you to the other executives as bonten's newest advisor, sanzu stood in the back of the room, unconsciously biting his lip as he stared at your clean and crisp white tee shirt, tucked neatly into a pair of black slacks. your perfect skin. your shiny hair pulled back into a neat ponytail. your delicate hands. and the sharp glisten of your eyes. you looked so sincere.

a top scholar and graduate of the national university. your parents had been foreign diplomats. you spoke five languages. all this brilliance packaged neatly behind such a pretty face. oh, you were so perfect. so pristine. i'll make you regret playing with monsters, little princess. sanzu thought he couldn't wait to break you.

it didn't take him long to realize how wrong he was.

he'd stare at your hands, the ones he thought were so delicate, as they beat mercilessly into the skull of a traitor that lay limp beneath you. being a bonten advisor meant you never needed to get your hands dirty. but you didn't mind. and sanzu felt a trickling heat of excitement shimmy up his spine watching the blood splatter across your perfect skin, staining your clean shirt.

he'd listen in awe in the war room as your fingertips traced gracefully over blueprints of the city, and you'd describe plans for a new building downtown. a new shell business to run money through. a merger with a smaller, weaker gang simply as a means to procure disposable foot soldiers for mikey.

on one particular night, he'd sat back and watched you, transfixed, as he pulled the car up beside a dark tinted suv at a stoplight on a deserted street on the outskirts of shinjuku. you'd pointed your gun out the open window, so fast and precise on the trigger, taking out all the passengers in the car. he would've missed the shots with a single blink.

he couldn't recall all the details of the rest of that night. but he woke to find you in his bed the next morning, your naked body tucked comfortably under his sheets beside him.

his head pounded and he tried to remember what happened but all that he could recall were a series of blurred images. of the two of you leaving the war room together after receiving orders from mikey to take out the heads of a rival gang. a vision of your bare thighs, exposed under a short, plaid skirt as you sat in his passenger seat, and the quiet rattle as you attached a silencer to the end of your gun.

he remembered the sound of indistinct chatter and an image of you sitting across from him in a dimly lit restaurant. a vague recollection of a bottle of scotch, of him staring at himself in the restaurant's bathroom mirror as he wiped some white residue from his upper lip. of you, bent over the sink with a straw in your nose. a blurred reel of your legs wrapped around his waist, of him pushing you up against the mirror so hard the glass cracked and you moaned into his open mouth. you sounded as sweet as you tasted.

in the grey winter light here in his bed, he looked at the blotches of blue and purple bruises that lined your neck and chest. at the edge of your perfect lips, a little swollen and the skin a little cracked. at the indentation of teeth marks on your shoulder, red with coagulated blood under the surface.

your eyes fluttered open and for a moment he was afraid. afraid that the cold light of day would be too harsh for you. afraid that all that was mystifying and beautiful in the night would be destroyed by the light. afraid you would leave.

but you'd looked into his eyes for a moment, and your lashes fell closed and you'd snuggled into his side, languidly dragging your arm across his chest.

let's sleep a little more, my head hurts and we still have at least another hour before we have to go meet the others.

oh, your voice sounded so sweet, still raspy with sleep, a lullaby to his ears.

as bonten leaders, he knew a relationship with you was strictly forbidden. he knew what mikey would do if he or any of the others ever found out. and he knew you knew too.

but you simply shrugged your shoulders as you picked up your clothes that were scattered across the floor of his bedroom. like you knew what he was thinking, and said i'm not afraid of them. are you?

he'd laughed at himself then. just who was corrupting who? he wondered.

the time he had with you began to envelope his heart. and the love he felt for you; small, crackling embers at first, had grown into a fire so bright and wild and twisted it could not be extinguished.

you were his partner; his chosen one. he loved the way your knuckles looked when they were bruised and red; such a beautiful contrast against your delicate and soft skin. he loved the way your fingers graced the handle of your gun, the dead calm of your eyes when you pulled the trigger. he was intoxicated with the knowledge that you were watching every time he carried out his duty as executioner.

his infatuation with you burned in his chest when he'd glance up at you, standing in the distance, eyes fixed on him and you'd slowly drag the palm of your hand up your thigh; testing his willpower to not pin you to the ground and tear you apart right then and there in front of his men.

under the cover of darkness, the two of you came alive. going on sprees, speeding through the bright streets of tokyo, the lights around you a blurred spectral of color to your bloodshot, medicated eyes.

in the midnight hours, your bodies would be intertwined, and in your arms he found a sanctuary. your body was the most addicting drug of all. you made all the pain disappear.

the quiet hours of the early morning, when time teetered on the edge of night and day, he'd lay on your chest, and for just a little while, his world would fall quiet. the air around him felt still. he would be coming down from his high, and he could feel everything. but he didn't mind. these small hours of lucidity shone brilliantly in his mind. when he could hear your breathing. feel your heartbeat so vividly beneath your bones. smell the lingering and sweet scent of your skin on his.

he'd become so possessed by you, so possessive of you that one night when he had you laid out beneath him, your legs spread wide for him, and he thought you looked so beautiful like this. so perfect like this for him. your skin, slick with a layer of sweat, luminescent in the moonlight. your lips, parted and choking out shaky pleas for him, begging him not to stop.

he buried himself so deep inside you, nails clawing into your skin, so desperate to be one with you. and he thought no one, no one else would have you like this. he was so intoxicated by the medley of pills in his system, completely unhinged in the euphoria of being inside you, he'd reached for his gun on the nightstand and held it to your forehead, point blank between your eyes.

you didn't even flinch. he watched you knock the gun from his hands, and slide your fingers up his wrists, and pulled his hands to your neck, letting him wrap them around your throat. if you're gonna kill me, do it with your own hands, you'd said.

god, he loved you so much. he wanted you so much, he needed you so much. he'd closed his hands around your neck with the gentlest force and watched your eyes roll back.

say my name, he'd command. and when you did, he closed his hands more forcefully around your delicate neck so he could feel the vibration in your throat as you choked out his name over and over. you'd clenched down so tight around him and he came harder than he ever had, collapsing into you.

he'd slowly let go of you, chest heaving, and gently caress at the skin of your neck, red and starting to bruise.

y/n...if i died, would you die with me? he'd whisper into your skin.

mmh, yeah. you'd whisper back.

i don't want anyone else to have you. i want you to be mine forever. he'd kiss the corner of your lips.

he'd feel your fingers laced up into his hair, your legs wrapped around his hips, pulling him close.

what am i going to do with you...i might really kill you one of these days.

he'd lift his head to look at you. and your expression didn't change a bit. your eyes held the same resolve they always did, and you said, then i'll wait for you by the sanzu river.

this was what flashed through his mind when he walked into one of bonten's warehouses late one evening for a meeting of the executives, and he saw all of them standing in a circle around you, bound and tied, blood streaming from your hairline, your bruised body limp on the concrete.

he fell to his knees then, watching mikey shove the end of his gun against your temple.

did you think i wouldn't find out? mikey's thumb clicked down on the hammer.

he saw your eyes flutter open and find his. you smiled.

the muzzle flash was bright, and the shot rang through the dark, open space.

he stared at the blood pooling from the side of your head into the dust. he felt a single tear roll down his cheek. shit, am i really crying right now? he laughed at himself.

WHO ARE YOU LOYAL TO, SANZU?! mikey demanded.

i'll wait for you by the sanzu river. your words echoed in his mind.

mikey may have been his king. but you were the redeemer, his messiah, his salvation.

the choice was simple.

he pulled his own gun from its holster and held it up to his temple.

i'm on my way, love.

#haruchiyo sanzu x reader #tokyo revengers imagines #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo rev #tokyo revengers x you #sanzu haruchiyo #sanzu imagines

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tokoyamisstuff · 3 years

Text

Meant To Be - Loki x Fem! Reader

Summary: Much to your displeasure, your parents have promised you away to the God of Mischief of all people.

Tags: Arranged Marriage AU, Light Elf! Reader

Warnings: Aside from Loki hating himself, nothing.

Words: 2878

I Masterlist I

A/N: Some good old-fashioned, ‘redeemed after The Avengers and the other movies didn’t happen’ Loki. Like, really cheesy, self-indulgent 2012 stuff. I just want to ignore all misery that happens in the series okay?

“Ew! Stop it!”

You were eight at the time when you and Loki first met, by means of negotiation between both your parents.

If only you knew that this encounter should be the first impression of what should be your husband in the near future...

Frigga and Odin could only plead for their son to be on his best behavior - but well, it’s the God of Mischief we’re talking about. Must be hard to inherit such a title from your very birth.

Just when you put the little bonquet of flowers he had picked up for you towards your face to admire it, several little spiders emerged from the blossoms.

“You’re no fun.” The raven-haired boy stood a safe distance away from you, arms crossed as his gleeful laughter turned into a broad sulk. "And your ears are weird.”

“I hate you!” you screeched in your childish rage, throwing the flowers to the ground and trampling onto them. “Where’s your brother? Thor is way nicer than you!”

“Well, why don’t you marry him then?!” he mocked to cover up his hurt pride, picking up a handful of dirt and throwing it in your direction.

“I don’t need any friends anyway...” the little boy whispered to himself, running away from the scene with tears filling the corner of his eyes.

“I don’t need anyone. I’m way better than all of them!”

Not even Frigga was fast enough to catch up with him, while Odin uttered some fake apologies to your parents, promising them that everything will go as planned.

You on the other hand were running towards your mother, tightly grabbing onto her dress. “He’s mean! I wanna go home!”

As Queen of the Light Elves, your mother was a being full of grace and composure - and you were hoping to one day become such a formidable person as well.

She bowed down to your height, petting your hair as you rubbed the mixture of tears and dirt from your cheeks. Just her bright smile alone would sometimes be enough to make you forget about your worries - but not today.

“My sweet child” she cooed, cradling you in her arms. “One day you’ll understand.”

However, this would be the last time you paid Asgard a visit - at least until now. Because no matter how deeply you wished to never meet him again, the words your mother spoke on that day haunted you all those years:

“For this is your duty as a princess.”

[Present Day - Asgard]

It felt so unreal when you stuck your head outside of the wooden carriage, the wind playing with your hair as your glare wandered over the rainbow bridge you were crossing.

Silence strained the air, your parents unable to do even so much as look into your eyes. Hel, how you wished this was only a dream.

Behind you was a whole company of Light Elves, transporting all of your belongings to what should be your homecountry from now on.

Now there was no way back, that much was sure.

You were supposed to meet your soon-to-be husband on that very same day, one day before your wedding to be precize.

One could only guess why you weren’t allowed to visit Asgard again for all those years, even though you were practically born just for this reason - for this person.

To become Loki’s bride was your involuntary purpose, and you couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to be truly free.

Maybe your parents thought the God of Mischief to have a bad influence on their growing daughter, pulling you into his harmless yet dishonorable schemes. Or they simply feared you to refuse marrying said man if you got to know him better, finding out just what kind of person you were promised to.

Not that your parents were pleased either...everyone in the Nine Realms knew the stories.

To Odin, there was no point in hiding the disgrace his adoptive son had brought over Asgard. Not only was he responsible for an attack on Midgard, sacrificing thousands of lives for his own sake, drunken by greed for power.

But all of you were shocked to hear that Loki Odinson - or rather Laufeyson - was never Asgardian to begin with.

A Frost Giant.

Among your kind, they were known to be one of the most terrible abominations in the nine realms, and murderer of countless of your kind - and this should be the father to your future children?

Only thinking about this cruel twist of fate made you want to vomit...

So why did you agree to proceed with the preparations as if nothing had happened? How in Alfheim’s name could you reject their offer to wed you to Thor instead of that lunatic?

Was it that through your upbringing and royal duties, you had lost your own free will? Or simply fear of stepping aside the path that everyone had prepared for you?

It was probably the fact that you didn’t want to get into true love’s way...you and Thor stayed in brief contact through Heimdall, and you just knew how much that human girl meant to him.

You were kinda jealous, though...the concept of being in love was foreign to you, having a vague idea of it from novels only. But real life just wasn’t meant to be that was, was it?

You couldn’t escape your fate, that was what it was - for this treaty would unite both kingdoms, bringing peace and wealth for all of their inhabitants.

No way you could be so selfish as to decline...even if it meant you had to suffer for the rest of your life.

“My Ladyship, we have arrived!” a guard spoke as he knocked on the carriage door, with your parents hinting that you needed to step out first.

The very same guard now yelled from the pit of his lungs, making you feel the whole Kingdom of Asgard could hear. “Now arriving: Lady Y/N Y/L/N, eldest Princess of Alfheim and heir to the throne.”

You heared the people whispering as you took your first, insecure steps, blinded by the bright daylight.

“She’s so pale, like ice” or “Why are her ears like that?” were rather nice comments compared to others plainly calling you ugly, scary or a ‘disgrace’.

Of course your Kingdoms had been in a war for several decades, but this was long in the past - before your very birth, even. So what’s the reason you should bear with such hostility in the place everyone expected you to call ‘home’ from now on?

One thing was clear from the very beginning: You would never belong here.

“May I?” a dark, husky voice interrupted your self-pitying. You blinked heavily, still trying to adjust to all those golden surroundings, until your blurry vision finally cleared up.

“C’mon.” The voice belonged to the man in front of you, looking gravely nervous with sweat dripping from his forehead. He was reaching out a hand for you to take, and you gladly accepted since you didn’t want to embarass yourself further by falling out of the carriage.

And still, you managed to somehow miss a step and fall right into his arms. “Oh my, so clumsy” the man snickered as he catched you, clearing his throat as you grabbed onto his chest to regain balance. "Not very graceful for someone of your status.”

“And you are-” The words got stuck in your throat when you stared back into those eyes, their emerald green awaking memories you’d rather forgotten entirely. “L-Loki!”

“Exactly, my dear. The one and only.” Smooth and calm, he pecked a kiss on the back of your hand, andyou couldn’t help but admire just how well he had aged: His wild locks were combed back, sharp features complimenting his face as he tried his best to give you his most innocent smile.

Yet you kept your guard up, always expecting him to somehow embarass you just for the fun of it. “When it comes to him, always expect the unexpected” Thor once warned you, and you won’t forget about it that easily.

“It’s a pleasure finally meeting you” was your firm declaration, only to be rewarded with a scoff. “You are speaking to the God of Lies, Lady Y/N - there is no use in trying to deceive me” he whispered into your ear, making you shiver in unpleasant anticipation.

“Carry her belongings to my rooms” he dismissed the servants with a simple gesture of his hand, offering his other arm for you to cling on as he escorted you through the palace.

The giant halls were almost empty, nothing like back on Alfheim where you and your brethren would enjoy each other’s company in midst of nature. A sole tear escaped your eye when you thought back to those carefree days, which are now over.

“Are you alright, m’lady?” Much to your surprise, your fiancé sounded honestly concerned about your well-being. “If you are tired, we can postpone our tour of the palace until you’ve rested.”

“May I speak from the heart?” You gulped after finishing that sentence, scaring yourself with all the stories you’ve heared about this mad troublemaker.

Somehow you had the feeling that if you were to overstep your boundaries with that brute, it would have consequences beyond your imagination. He might seem generous and polite right this moment, but what would someone like him do if you enrage him? Countless images were circling in your head, one worse than the other.

Loki furrowed his brows, exhalinge deeply. For him, your expression was an open book to what you were thinking right now.

“Y/N, my dear Lady, if you want it or not: Starting tomorrow, we share a bond. I am deeply sorry that a veritable flower as you are had to end up with someone like me, but I promise to treat you as well as possible.”

Turning around so you’d not detect how it hurt him to speak from the heart, he added with a shaky voice “Yet there is no reason for you to hold back your hatred for me. No harm will come your way, I swear upon the little honor I have left.”

Even though his words made you feel a deep sympathy with the god, you weren’t quite sure if you could decipher truth or deceit in them. Maybe he just wanted to lure you into saying what you truly thought of him?

He’s right - you will have to spend the rest of your life with him, so don’t mess this up from the very start!

“I-I don’t hate you!” was the first thing you blurted out, grabbing onto his cloak. Loki turned around, rising his eyebrow as he scanned your face for any hint of a lie.

Althrough it was the truth, at least to a certain extend. You’ve seen each other only once, when you were still little. The rest is all tales and rumours, but you personally don’t have a reason to despise him.

There was no way you could promise to accept his past or heritage, let alone forgive him - yet as long as he’d treat you with respect, you’d return the favour.

“T-There’s just a question on my mind this whole time...aren’t you mad? I-I mean someone like- well...like you...” you gestured around awkardly, almost making him crack a smile. “I mean...I thought you wouldn’t let your parents dictate your life.”

Another deep sigh escaping his mouth, this times with his eyes closed. “This isn’t about Asgard or my adoptive parents. I choose my own path.”

Suddenly, Loki wrapped one arm around you, flicking his fingers with the free one.

“Hold onto me” he ordered indifferent as he casted his spell, teleporting both of you away before you could even comprehend, let alone ask him what he was doing.

It happened in the fraction of a second, yet felt like hovering through an empty space for an eternity.

“Now open your eyes.” You hadn’t even realized that you squeezed them shut during the shift, slowly opening them while Loki lifted your chin with his index finger.

The environment was magnificent. Had you ever seen something this beautiful in your whole life?

Obviously you had no clue where you were, but this was the first time seeing so much untouched nature on Asgard. There were flowers blooming in all colours imagineable, clear rivers crossing the lands in between grassy hills, and animals nearby a small forrest.

“It’s not like I didn’t educate myself about the Light Elves and their way of living” Loki stammered, unconsciously intertwining your fingers with yours as he watched you admiring the view. “So I could make you comfortable here, I mean.”

He plummeted down on the grass, still a little wet from the morning dew, and gestured for you to do the same. It was weird, actually, but also somehow adorable - how the infamous ‘Silver Tongue’ had lost his ability with words. “I’ve done very little right in my life full of wrongs. Hurt a lot of people.”

“Mmmhh” you hummed approvingly, not knowing what else to say - yet for some reason, you didn’t let go off of his hand, squeezing it ever so slightly.

“And even though I can’t possibly redeem myself, I wish to change for the better.” he muttered, rubbing the back of his head. “I just never knew how to start.”

Loki Odinson really was full of surprises. He was nothing like the child you’ve met long ago, and the complete opposite of what you imagined the ‘God of Mischief’ to be.

You had expected a power-hungry, selfish and cruel man to wed you - and yet there he was: Insecure and broken, only a shell of the person he once was.

Just what had you missed all those years? What things happened to break someone’s will like this?

And was he truly beyond repair?

“Those past weeks, I have visited Alfheim more times than you could comprehend” he giggled nervously, avoiding your eyes. “Concealed, of course.”

Well, that sounded kind of weird, but you knew better than to talk someone down who was just opening up to you. So your sole answer was “What for?”

“There was no way a criminal like me would still be seemed fit for this ceremony - and yet I was given this chance anyway. My mother told me that it was you who insisted on carrying on the arrangement, so...I just wanted to know what person would be willingly ruin their life.”

Something different was shining through the god’s orbs, and you couldn’t quite decipher it. Was it hope? Hope, that if you had given him a chance, his life could lead into a different direction? To change himself from the burden that was his birth title?

“I-I guess I don’t want to mess this up like I always do” he whimpered barely audible, before staring at you in shock and embarassment. Until now, he hadn’t realized just how vulnerable he made himself.

Just what the hell would you think about him now? You probably had lost any respect, or thought himself to be crazy. How weak...

So he was quick to put on the confident facade again, wearing his smug grin as if that all was just part of a big joke only he’d understand. But even though you barely knew him, he couldn’t fool you.

“Sometimes it’s enough just to try.” Your head turned from the sight of nature to your fiancé and back several times, before you brought up the courage and put a hand on his shoulder, whispering “So you can’t really mess this up.”

“Gladly you don’t seem to know yet just how much misery I cause.” He kept that thought to himself, to not scare you away.

“I am aware that you could never love someone like me, Y/N. But I can provide for you, dedicate myself to making you content with being my wife. My newfound purpose.”

The purpose of a war criminal - that sure put yourself under a lot of pressure. And still, it made you somewhat proud, and grateful as well. Because it was the first time someone valued you as a person, and not the princess of Alfheim.

Unaware of how much time had passed, both of you would get used to each other’s presence in silence, enjoying the nature while you processed this eventful day.

Exhausted from the long travel and all that rollercoaster of emotion, you soon found yourself dazzling into sleep onto Loki’s shoulder. If only you could see him adore you, staring in awe that someone could actually feel so safe in his presence.

Carefully, the god picked you up, gently lifting you on his arms to make your way back to the palace, where everyone was frantically searching for both of you. Well, Loki was used to trouble - but right now, it was worth it.

May it be right or wrong, and even though you couldn’t explain this sentiment, you had a good feeling when it came to the things that were just about to come.

“You won’t regret your decision, Y/N Y/L/N. On my side, I assure you a bright future.”

#Loki #Loki x Reader #Loki x You #Loki Odinson #Loki Laufeyson #Loki Friggason #Loki/Reader #Loki/You #Self Insert #Fanfiction #Arranged Marriage #Writing #Marvel #Asgard

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faeriejukyung · 3 years

Text

True Beauty’s Gaping Mother Wound

*disclaimer*: I understand that all the listed traits are things which are often very common in Asian households, and it may seem that rather than being concerning, these are just a part of Asian culture. That is why, I feel that it’s necessary for me to make it clear that I am, in fact, Asian (Indian to be specific), and parental abuse is something that is extremely normalized here. As someone who has experienced it firsthand, I want to say that just because something is common/normal, doesn’t necessarily mean that it is correct. If you or anyone you know is in a situation like that, it’s very very important to speak out. And it’s not your fault, i know it’s easier to believe that way but it’s really not. We deserve to be in a loving environment, regardless of what culture we are born in.

Throughout the drama, Jukyung’s mother shows many traits of an abusive mother. I have been able to outline 4 of them. I don’t mean to write her off as an evil character,, because overall she is well intentioned, and just like any other mom, she does love Jukyung. This is shown in episode 8 too, where she shows remorse for her actions. That however, doesn’t justify her abusive behavioral patterns in any way. Because we can see how badly it affects Jukyung, her self esteem and her overall view of herself.

Act 1: “I’m going to kill you today and go to jail” -- Physical Violence.

Throughout the series, we see Jukyung's mother being very violent. But one scene which particularly stood out to me was the scene where she finds out about Jukyung's dad getting scammed. (in episode 1). While it is true that her dad caused a huge financial loss to the family, and anyone would feel angry in a situation like that, it is also true that there is never a good reason to physically abuse someone.

After hearing the news, Jukyung's mom is overcome by anger. It's completely okay to feel frustrated, but the way she violently jumped at her husband, clearly intentioned to hurt him, and the way she needed to be held back by juyoung and heekyung highlights her abusive nature. And this isn't a one time thing where she momentarily lost control of herself. She constantly shows similar behavioural traits throughout the drama.

In the scene where we see Jukyung's mom and dad together properly for the first time, their relationship dynamic is established. He's meekly massaging her shoulders while she orders him around. Their is an obvious power imbalance in the relationship, and the way Jukyung's dad cowers in fear around Jukyung's mom is a proof of that.

Act 2: "Why would you kill my precious son?" -- Conditional Love.

We see examples of Jukyung’s Mom’s conditional love in the kdrama AND in the webtoon. Conditional love is when a parent or a parental figure makes their child compete for love. They withhold their affection until the kid acts in ways that are desirable to them, and if the kid fails to do so, the parent often punishers them through different methods. This is their way of maintaining control over their children.

Jukyung’s Mom’s conditional love manifests itself in the form of favoritism towards her eldest daughter Heekyung, who’s not only conventionally beautiful but also very smart and has a high paying job, and towards her youngest child and only son, Juyoung, who is also written to be very attractive. Both Juyoung and Heekyung have gifts that Jukyung does not posses -- beauty and brains. The conditions that are established in order to attain their mother’s affection are getting good grades at school, and being conventionally attractive, which is why Jukyung often gets the shorter end of the stick

In the scene where we are first meet Heekyung is the drama, their mom’s affection towards her is very evident.

This is shown in the webtoon too.

She displays this favoritism towards Juyoung too, and even more so. In episode 1 where Jukyung tries makeup for the first time, and gets ridiculed by him for doing a bad job at it, she naturally feels angry and yells at him, “do you want to die?!”, but instead of telling Juyoung to stop, their mother yells at Jukyung for yelling at Juyoung (”why would you kill my precious son? why?”). It’s already very evident that Juyoung has picked up the habit of constantly taunting Jukyung for her face from his mom. In the webtoon, when Jukyung decides that she wants to pursue makeup arts and asks for her mom’s support and fees for academy, her mom flat-out refuses, saying that they don’t have enough money. However as we find out later, money wasn’t the problem, because she had enough money to send Juyoung to a cram school for acting.

I find it hard to believe that any good parent would constantly compare their children and pit them against each other like this. In the webtoon and the kdrama, it is made clear that Juyoung doesn’t have particularly good grades either, but he doesn’t have to face his mother’s wrath by the virtue of being good looking. Jukyung on the other hand, does not have any redeeming qualities.

Act 3: “I’m going to throw all your makeup away” --Excessive Anger.

Another sign of parental abuse is display of excessive anger. It’s usually used as an intimidation tactic to keep the child in line. Sometimes, it can simply happen because they lose control of themselves. Either way, parents who get angry more often than what is supposed to be normal, and hurt their children (physically or verbally) in the midst of their anger, repeatedly, are abusive. I feel like I don’t even need to elaborate on this one. Jukyung’s Mom is angry during half of her scenes. And the way she acts upon that anger crosses the limit too. Don’t get me wrong, it’s important to express your the way you feel, but the way Jukyung’s Mom does it, is extremely unhealthy and hurtful to others around her. Whether she’s jumping on Jukyung’s dad or talking down on Im Jukyung, she’s very inconsiderate of how her anger affects others. She almost always expresses herself in an extremely volatile way.

Jukyung described makeup as a hopeful light opening up a new life for her. There’s even a whole music segment of her discovering the powers of makeup, characterized by pastel and bubblegum tones, and the segment has a magical feel to it. Suffice to say that makeup brought an almost magical kind of hope and optimism to her life. In episode 6, Jukyung's Mom goes to her school to get her report card. When she sees her low grades, she gets so angry that she threatens to throw away her makeup, without once considering why Jukyung is so attached to it. In my eyes, she's actually very similar to Soojin's dad who also uses intimidation and physical violence to keep his daughter in line. If we put the same background music for the scenes where we see Jukyung's Mom threatening her, as the ones where Soojin's dad abuses her, they'd practically be identical. The only difference is that the show often plays Jukyung's Mom's behavior as a joke.

In episode 7, after seeing that Jukyung didn't improve as much as she wanted her to, she actually threw away all her makeup. Even though Jukyung did try, and did improve, it still wasn't enough for her mom. Jukyung's restlessness after not seeing her makeup on her table was palpable through the screen. Finding out that her mother threw all her makeup away sort became her breaking point. We see her yell at her mother and express her feelings for the first time.

I think it's important to note that Jukyung, who's already finds it very tough to reach out to her courageous side, was inspired by this incident to stand up to her mom, to express her outrage. Saying that makeup meant a lot to her is an understatement.

Act 4: "What's the point of looking beautiful with all that makeup on if you're ugly underneath?" -- Verbal Abuse.

We all get into arguments with our parents from time to time, and I’m sure we’ve all been yelled at by them at some point. Verbal abuse however, is not something that is normal, and the two shouldn’t be confused. A parent who constantly humiliates their child, yells and screams at them, talks down on them is in simple terms, an abuser.

In episode 1, when Jukyung tries makeup on for the first time and goes to school, she gets ridiculed by her bullies and her classmates. Crestfallen, she returns back home after school and goes to her mother for reassurance. Instead of providing that, her mother ridicules her even more and calls her makeup “Ghost Makeup”. This is something abusers often do. Under the guise of teasing the victim, they often attack the victim’s self esteem, appearance etc, to make them feel insecure and to maintain their position of power over them. Jukyung’s mother isn’t very different from those bullies who told Jukyung that she was ugly and made her feel like she could never amount to anything.

Another example that irks me a lot is from episode 3, when Jukyung’s Mom is chewing her out for being late, and suddenly the conversation turns to cosmetics and makeup. This is also one of the traits of verbal abuse. Instead of arguments surrounding the basic issue, they branch out and turn into character assassination. Her mom accuses Jukyung of wasting all her time on makeup instead of studying, even when Jukyung clarifies that she got late because she missed her bus, not because she was out buying cosmetics. But her mom doesn't listen and says to her, “What’s the point of looking beautiful with all that makeup on when you’re still ugly underneath?”

Jukyung’s face after hearing her own mother say that was heartbreaking. Unfortunately, this type of mother-daughter relationship dynamic isn’t something that is rare. Mothers frequently project their own insecurities on their daughters and put them down. Jukyung’s Mother’s behavior explains her self esteem issues, it gives an insight about where her insecurities really stem from. Sometimes our abuser’s thoughts and image of us start maligning our own self image. Frequently hearing them tell us that we are worthless, and that no one will ever marry us or love us, makes us believe that we are in fact, worthless and incapable of being loved unless we change something about ourselves. We frequently get an insight into how Jukyung thinks of herself throughout the drama.

“It’s not my fault that I was born dumb” (In episode 7, after finding out that her mother threw away her makeup.)

“You know that I’m messed up” (In episode 2, referring to her face, while asking Lee Suho to keep her bare face a secret)

The drama is yet to end so I don’t want to completely write Jukyung’s Mother off as an abuser. I hope she becomes a better mom in the show, I really do. Because Jukyung deserves a loving mother. And Jukyung's mom does in fact have a few redeeming qualities, however, simply love and caring isn’t enough, you need mutual respect, reassurance and effort in each every relationship. We know that Jukyung’s mother is also often labelled as an ugly woman, and she believes that she could only get by through studying well. (“It’s going to be okay as long as you study well” - episode 1). In a world where a woman either has to a exceptionally beautiful to be considered worthy, or be exceptionally intelligent and professional lest she isn’t blessed by beauty, it’s very easy to internalize self hatred and direct it on to other individuals (especially if those individuals are your children). That is why i genuinely find myself rooting for Jukyung’s mother and hoping for a character development arc -- because i understand where she comes from, and because i can empathize with her.

Fin.

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drakenxemma · 3 years

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Hello sweetie! 🌸 A lot of people in the fandom say that Draken and Inupi become friends 'cause Draken starts seeing Emma in Inupi, because of his looks. What do you think? I'd like to know your opinion on this. I hope I've made the point. Anyway thank you so much for keeping drakemma very much alive. 😘 You're amazing. 💌

Hi, anon❣ Thank you so much for the question. Before I answer, I'd like to make clear that, as always, this is just my personal and humble opinion, I may be wrong and I'm very open to different views.

I've read this idea around a lot, too, and I find it very interesting, but, to be honest, I'm not sure I am of the same opinion, firstly because I cannot see how this is supported in canon (and in fact I think it's not at all), and secondly because I don't think I like the idea of Inui being mistaken for someone else once again, it'd be unnecessarily sad and cruel. But let me explain why I'm saying this.

First of all, as we know, Koko used to see Akane in Seishu. Now, Koko and Seishu's backstory explains very well how and why that happened: Koko is traumatized by Akane's death, feels guilty for mistaking the two siblings and for saving Seishu instead of her when the fire happened (the severe burns will eventually led her to death), so he ends up overlaying and projecting the idea of Akane on her brother, cancelling Seishu's persona for years in the process, perpetrating pain and affliction to Seishu and to himself (Koko and Seishu's relationship makes me want to cry, seriously, it is one of the creepiest and saddest stories in tokrev in my opinion, both of them are consumed with trauma, both end up harming each other and suffer like hell, and both deserve better...).

Anyway, what I'm trying to say here is that, from a narrative standpoint, Koko seeing Akane in Seishu is directly connected to Seishu being both Koko's friend and Akane's brother, the three characters are connected and it's exactly this link what "allows" Koko's trauma to evolve in that specific way and to cause such bad consequences on Seishu. Now, let's just imagine the exact same story, but with Seishu not being Akane's brother: what would happen in this scenery from a narrative point of view? Would Koko equally lose Akane? Yes, he would. Would Koko equally suffer trauma? Yes, he would. Would Koko's trauma equally evolve in a tragic and devastating way? Yes, it would. Would Koko's trauma affect Seishu? No, it wouldn't. It wouldn't demage Seishu specifically in that case because Seishu would not be part of the scheme. Indeed, in canon, Seishu pays the price of Koko's trauma because he is simultaneously Koko's friend and Akane's brother and because he was saved "by mistake", which leads Koko to feel guilty and to lose his mind. In summary my point is: all of this happens because sadly the three characters (Koko, Seishu, Akane) were linked, Seishu's only fault is being, in Koko's eyes, what's left of Akane.

On the contrary, Draken and Emma have nothing to do with Inui, they don't have a common backstory or anything. What would be the point in repeating the same instance in which the poor Seishu is made invisible by someone else's suffering once again? Especially when this someone else is not correlated to him in any way. From a narrative standpoint, it just doesn't make sense. Draken, unlike Koko, would have ZERO reasons to project the image of his lost love on Inui. Actually blond hair is the only thing that Seishu and Emma have in common and I really think it'd be not enough to justify such a behavior on Draken's part.

In the end, I'd like to add what is, according to me, the reason why Draken and Inui become friends, the reason why their friendship lasts and they support each other and and help each other. As we know, to some extent Seishu used to take advantage of Koko's abilities in making money to reach some of his goals in Black Dragons. When Seishu and Koko part ways and Seishu is left without that "money machine", he has to learn how to be "financially independent" and I think here comes his friendship with Draken. Inui, thanks to Draken and the bike shop, learns how to make money by himself with an honest job. Probably Draken and Seishu created a solid friendship working side by side over time. I guess it's just as simple as that. I think Inui respects Draken a lot because he finds in him a healthy friend, someone trustworthy. At the same time I think Draken respects Inui because he finds in him an emotionally recovering person, someone who is trying to deal with past mistakes, sufferings and regrets, just like he's doing himself. I think Draken genuinely respects Seishu for who he is and that's the kind of friendship someone with Seishu's past deserves. It makes sense. I truly doubt Draken is unconsciously searching for a replacement for Emma, I doubt he's looking for her in other people. It'd be totally out of character and inconsistent with the way he deals with Emma's death, in my opinion. While Koko's trauma and pain led him to delirium and to see Akane in a different person, Draken faces trauma in a healthier way, he succeeds in doing something for himself, he focuses on his career and, as we know by now, he goes as far as still fighting to bring Mikey back and to protect his friends. In other words, Draken misses Emma, loves Emma, suffers for losing her, but he manages to go on with his life because he knows that's what Emma would want. Admitting that he sees her in Inui would mean admitting that Draken is actually very much out of control (like Koko was) and I don't think that's the case.

That's why I just can't see Draken doing the same thing Koko did to Seishu: the two just face pain and loss differently, which is totally realistic because different people deal with trauma in very different ways.

Having said that, I'd like to make it clear that I don't mean to say one is not excusable while the other is simply exemplary. Trauma is trauma, I wouldn't go as far as depicting Koko as a total and irredeemable monster: he was deeply demaged and corrupted, he needed help, just like many other characters. The fact that on the contrary Draken succeeds in not doing such things, despite having undergone similar pain, is again indicative of the fact that trauma is trauma and people face it differently depending on the circumstances and many other factors (let's not forget that there's a timeline in which Draken is on death row for killing people and according to Takemichi he did that to avenge Emma's death). This is a very prevalent message in tokyo revengers, we can see how different characters with backstories and traumatic pasts ends up totally demaged, recovered or (partially) redeemed. I'm glad the author conveyed such a message, to be honest.

I also think, on an additional note, that separating Koko and Seishu was for the best and maybe, once they've fully recovered, they can finally have a sincere and genuine friendship where Koko sees Seishu exactly for who is and where Seishu forgives a redeemed Koko. Or I'd also like for them to be healthier individuals and care for each other, whilst staying separated.

#tokyo revengers #drakemma #draken #ken ryuguji #emma sano #draken x emma #inui seishu #hajime kokonoi #inui akane #tokyo revengers spoilers #tokyo revengers my comment and analysis #g. replies #ask #anonymous

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rainy-day-coffee · 3 years

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can i get some idia angst? Him grieving over the loss of his s/o

Oh dear-

Why must we hurt my boy this way-

I wrote this as a scenario instead of headcanons! I also had a little creative freedom with this, I hope managed to get the feelings across. I’m still awkward with scenarios;;

Grieving the loss of his s/o

Warning: mentions of death (no graphic scenes of it), angst (and nothing but angst), panic attack on Idia’s part

Please tell me if I’m missing any warnings!

“Hey! What are you up to?”

Turning his head, Idia meets your gaze. You stand in the doorway of his room, smiling. As stunning as ever, he thinks.

“Just grinding out some dungeons for materials. My main party can almost do 150k damage when the conditions are right.”

“Hah, just 150k?”

He lets out a snort, “You’ve gotta be joking. Last time I checked, your team could only do 10k on a good day.”

“I’ll have you know I’ve been leveling-up their skills! Don’t be too surprised if I knock that stupid smirk right off your face soon!”

“Whatever you say~”

Waving the controller in his hand, he beckons you closer to his desk. “Want to play some multiplayers after this last run? I bet you want to try redeeming yourself from your embarrassing losing streak.”

You frown, “Losing streak my a-”

The smile on Idia’s face falls. It was happening again.

You’re frozen in place. Your limbs begin to twitch and your face begins to morph into a variety of expressions all at once. He quickly stands and makes his way toward you.

Pure gibberish leaves your mouth as he approaches, yet you make no moves. Your image begins to blur out.

He attempts to fling his arms around you, crying out in despair when they phase right through your glitching body. It was a foolish attempt, he knows. Idia collapses to the ground in a series of wheezes and pained sobs. All while you, still as a statue, continue to stare where he used to be sitting. An unbearable ringing begins to attack his eardrums.

Suddenly, the scenery surrounding you two starts to blur and melt into a blob of colors; the dark hues of his room blend with whites, neons, everything that shouldn’t be there. His furniture and machines start to phase in and out, creating a series of flashes. He stares in horror as everything spirals out of control. He resists the urge to throw-up and covers his eyes instead, praying everything would end quickly.

His room spins and spins and spins.

Until finally everything goes black.

Returning to reality, Idia yanks the VR headset off his head and chucks it across the room. His chest aches as he gasps for air. Shivers run throughout his entire body, making him feel sick and nauseous. He pulls at his hair as he begins to rock back and forth on the floor of his room. His real room.

This simulation attempt was a failure, one of the worst ones yet. He’ll need to carefully look at the code later. Nothing else matters until he can finally feel your warmth again. He slaves away everyday, hunched over his monitor, in pursuit of this fleeting dream.

Ortho would scold him for neglecting his needs, and Idia was fine with that. It’s turned into a cycle, he promises to make an effort to eat more and do more the following day, but they both know he’s lying. Despite this, the younger Shroud continues to help in every way he can. He cleans his brother’s room, places meals on his desk (though they always come back almost untouched), and even replaces the candies in Idia’s secret stash. It hurts him to see Idia in so much pain. He regrets not being of more use.

Curling up into a tight ball, memories of you plague Idia’s mind, only fueling the pain he feels everywhere. He wants to curse at you, scream at you for leaving him, beat himself over the head for wanting to blame you in the first place. But most importantly, he wants to sob into your chest until all the tears dry up and he’s left with you gently petting his head and reassuring him everything will be okay.

He lets out a sarcastic laugh. Okay? Nothing will ever be okay again. You, the one who understood him the most, are gone. And dead people can tell no tales, much less comfort those who are still stuck in the world of the living.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst scenarios #idia shroud #idia shroud x reader

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aomineavenue · 4 years

Text

Homesick (Miya Atsumu x f!Reader) | 007. realizations

Summary: Six years ago, L/N Y/N wouldn’t exactly say that she loves her life. It had always been problematic but her best friend, Miya Atsumu, since she was eight when she moved to Hyōgo, has always been there for her, and she wouldn’t change it for the world. However, things would always fall apart for her ever since, so she should have expected of such. Running away from her problems seemed like the easiest route to take at the time, so what happens when the past comes barging back into her life demanding answers? Will she be able to confront her demons?

Pairings: Miya Atsumu x f!Reader

Updates: irregular.

Genre: Angst, ANGST I LOVE ANGST, a lil bit of fluff here and there.

Warnings: Language, etc. (Will be mentioned once posted because I don’t want spoilers huehue)

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters except for the reader and my ideas. I do not claim any images used for content in this fic, everything goes out to their respective creators unless it is mentioned that it is mine.

Status: ongoing. | series masterlist

↩ dinner disaster | realization | chapter seven bonus ↪

mia’s note(s):

another easter egg found here! can you find it?

i’m so excited because we’re almost done. remember how i said it’s 12 chapters? well, i’ve shortened it ok lmao dont be mad but homesick is almost over hehe

i would just like to personally thank @newfriendjen and @hqstuffsforme bcoz they literally give me the motivation I need to continue writing lmao

The model scrunches her features up in annoyance, puffing her cheeks as if she were a child being deprived of sweets. She flickers her attention over to you, her jaw clenching at the mere fact a woman was seated next to him. “Excuse me.”

You arch an eyebrow, noticing her glowering towards your direction. “Me?”

“Yes, you.” she answers, her eyes betraying the smile she had on, “I believe you’re in my seat.”

The past few weeks had been exhausting for him, and it wasn’t because of their intense training for upcoming games. His exhaustion’s source was mainly from the most recent important events, it took a toll on him emotionally. While this may be true, he understands there wasn’t anyone to blame but himself. The anger still existed somewhere in his mind, displeasing him whenever his thoughts reminded him of the chances he had lost to take care of his kids at a much younger age, but he had tried his best to subdue those particular emotions ever since that night. Chaotic as it was, it took him a step closer towards the realization of what he really needed to do. All he needed now was a little shove.

“‘Tsumtsum!” he hears her screech, the muscles around his shoulders grow tense. The irony of it all, just as they were discussing that horrendous memory of the Christmas Party just last December that he had tried his best to eradicate from his brain due to his own embarrassment, he couldn’t believe the model in question had instantaneously emerged out of thin air. What was she doing all the way here in Kanagawa? It was as if he had no escape from her suffocating clutches. A quick glance towards his brother and he recognizes the criticizing features sewn on his twin’s features and all he could do was share a silent communication, pleading for his aid.

Out of all the times this woman could appear, she appears at the very moment where he was sort of, trying, to redeem himself. Silently, he prays as she snakes her arms around his neck, that you, settled next to him, wouldn’t conclude anything from it, but who was he kidding? The position itself was sufficient evidence for you to come up with the conclusion he’s dreading. He can sense everyone’s eyes on him, the irritation they were radiating for such disruption. As she releases another infuriating squeal, this time an inch away from his ear, he pries her hands away from his neck and wraps his fingers around her wrist to pull her to the side.

Her lower lip juts out to a pout as she stands by the table, ignoring the dirty look he was directing her way. “What’s wrong ‘Tsumtsum? Did you not like my surprise?”

“Surprise?” he disputes, his brows furrowed in confusion as he releases his grip from her wrist, displeasure evident in his tone as he spoke. “Don’t tell me you were stalking me, Yumi.”

She folds her arms across her chest and lets out a scoff of disbelief escape her lips, “You make it sound as if I’m not your girlfriend or something!”

“Well, you aren’t.” he argues, a sigh of frustration escaping his lips, “We’ve talked about this. We’re not together and how did you know I was going to be here anyway?”

“That’s some serious stalking there, Yumi-san.” Hinata quips from his seat innocently, the other individuals around the table attempt their best to contain their sniggering at the sight of the model going red in the face from both anger and embarrassment.

She releases a grunt from her lips, sending a glare towards Hinata’s direction before turning her attention back at him, flashing him an innocent smile. “I don’t care what you say, we’re dating. You can’t just drop me like that. What we have is something special, you love me right? You never really said it before, but I know you’re just being shy, ‘Tsumtsum, it’s o—”

“Please,” He interjects, “Drop it. We’ve discussed this already, Yumi.”

You arch an eyebrow, noticing her glowering towards your direction. “Me?”

“Yes, you.” she answers, her angry eyes betraying the smile she had on, “I believe you’re in my seat.”

“Yumi!” Atsumu hisses, pushing himself to stand from his seat. “Stop this, right now. We’re trying to have a quiet dinner.”

Clearing your throat, you avoid the model’s glare as you stand yourself, “I think I’m full, and I’d like to return to the hospital. She can have my seat.”

“Wait, what?” Reiji chokes, sharing a panic glance over to his current partner in crime across from him. “But we haven’t even gotten to the main course,”

Yumi squeezes her way towards your seat after pulling you away from where you stood with abrupt force, a happy squeal leaving her lips as she occupies the seat you sat on seconds ago, she turns to look up at you, a smug smile evident in her features, “Safe travels.”

“Enjoy the rest of your night, everyone.” you bid, bowing your head slightly before your feet take off towards the exit of the restaurant.

“Good riddance, if you ask me.” Yumi scoffs with a wave of her hand to capture everyone’s attention. She claps her hands together excitedly as she looks up at Atsumu, “I missed you so much, ‘Tsumtsum! You never bring me to dinners with your friends, this is so exciting for our relation—”

As Reiji was practically seething from the side like a predator ready to pounce an attack towards its enemy for disrespecting his best friend like that, and from the sudden thought of regret entering his mind of how he shouldn’t have trusted Atsumu for not doing anything. However, such thoughts were crushed almost instantly at the sight of the furious glare Atsumu was sending over to the model that was seated uninvitedly on your seat.

The sight of a furious Atsumu was enough to send a chill through her spine, as she was about to try to soothe the volleyball player by reaching out for him, he slaps her hands away which causes her to whimper, jutting her lower lip out to pout. “What did I do?”

“Are you serious, Yumi?” he snaps, nails burying into his palms to restrain his growing irritation, “I can’t believe you would do that.”

“Why does it matter?” she whines, trying to reach out for him once again, only to fail as he steps back further, “Are you serious right now? Who was that bitch anyway?”

Reiji interrupts, his voice full of venom from behind the model, “I’d watch your tongue if I were you.”

“Whatever,” she stutters, attempting to look unfazed by the singer’s words by rolling her eyes but her quivering posture radiated otherwise, “She shouldn’t matter, ‘Tsumtsum, let’s just continue dinner.”

“What are you? A child?” Osamu intrudes, not able to hold back his tongue any longer from this model’s personality, “Stop calling my brother such a horrendous nickname like a squealing pig.”

An offended gasp escaped her lips, glowering towards Osamu, “He likes it when I call him that, so sucks to be you! And I’m not a child, I’m a fully grown woman.”

“Could have fooled me,” Asuma mutters underneath his breath.

Yumi lets out a grunt. “Tell them, baby. You like it when I call you—Where are you going?”

He doesn’t spare her a glance, weaving his way through the restaurant to run after you, “I hate that nickname.”

Before Yumi could stand up and follow after him, her path was blocked by the other individuals around the table who had stood up the second they realized Atsumu’s plan of action. “What are you doing? Let me through! You’re all going to regret this!”

Yumi’s screech was the last thing Atsumu heard as he steps out of the restaurant, a part of him feeling bad for his friends being left to deal with Yumi’s ridiculous antics and well, for the other people in the restaurant that might have had their ears traumatized. He never really understood what he saw in her in the first place, it was Yumi who had approached him in the beginning anyway. He should have listened to Osamu instead.

He looks around frantically, wanting to be able to catch up to you. He needed to talk to you, to apologize for Yumi’s behavior. He was just hoping that, somehow, he still had a chance to fix things with you. Hopefully, Yumi’s appearance hadn’t ruined those chances.

He catches a glimpse of your retreating figure walking towards the nearest bus station and he feels his heart soar, you haven't gone too far yet. He doesn’t waste any more time than he already has, sprinting towards your direction, calling out your name.

At the sound of his voice, your name rolling off of his tongue in desperation, you turn your head to look back with confusion. He reaches you almost instantly after you pivot your body to face his direction. Despite looking flustered as he catches his breath, he takes your breath away.

“Oh, sorry.” a feminine voice interrupts his train of thought through memory lane, causing him to turn around, startled, “I didn’t realize someone was already occupying the balcony.”

He lets out an awkward laugh, shaking his head, “No, it’s okay. It’s not like I’d stop you, I don’t own the space or anything.”

“So you don’t mind if I share your space? The party inside is kind of suffocating.” she lets out a sigh, avoiding his gaze sheepishly.

“I don’t mind at all,” he nods, tearing his gaze away from her as she steps out onto the balcony. He returns his gaze over to the buildings of Shinjuku, the different bright hues from various buildings painting the night sky.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

He hums softly, lifting the cold bottle of Sapporo up to his lips to take a quick sip. He lets out a sigh, “Just some stuff, it’s nothing really.” He turns to look over at her when she steps towards the edge of the balcony near him, “Wait, aren’t you Tobio-kun’s sister? The sports journalist?”

She lets out a laugh with a nod of her head, “Yeah, I’m glad I’ve made a name for myself then for some of the players here to recognize me. Though, I don’t think I appreciate being known as Tobio’s sister, not that I’m not proud of my brother or anything.”

“Ah, sorry. I didn’t mean to.” he states sheepishly.

She shakes her head, offering him a small smile. “It’s okay, no worries. You realize the party is inside, don’t you? I think I heard Bokuto-san looking for you or something.”

“I suppose I’m not really in the mood right now,” he mutters underneath his breath, looking back up ahead. “Not really in the right mind space. I don’t really know why I’m telling you this, you’re a journalist.”

She pouts, “I’m not as bad as those gossiping sharks. I prefer to actually produce worthy news. Speaking of news, you’ve been everywhere lately. I suppose it’s hard for you. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if that happens.”

“I don’t mind it,” he admits, his forehead creasing.

“Pardon?”

He lets out another sigh, shifting his position so his back is leaning against the railing of the balcony, “I don’t mind it. I just wish she was left out of things. She doesn’t deserve such slander.”

“I suppose the woman associated in the news with you actually means something to you then,” she muses, “I always thought that model Yumi was irritating. I’m sure her fame will fly out the window sooner or later.”

He lets out a scoff of irritation, taking another swig of the beer in his hand, “Don’t even remind me of her.”

“She’s not really well liked either,” the journalist beside him snickers, “Don’t worry about it too much, you’ll grow wrinkles. Say, Miya-san, do you love her?”

He’s startled by the direct question, if it were not for his tight grip around the beer bottle, it would have slipped from his fingers and came crashing to the floor. No one, not even his brother, had asked him such a question. He never really thought about it, but ever since that night, you were all he could think about. “It’s complicated.”

“A lot of things are complicated.” she starts, tilting her head back up to look at the dark sky from the penthouse balcony, “There will always be complications, you know. But, do you know what’s the bright side of it?”

He turns his head to look over at her in curiosity, “What?”

She lets out a heavy sigh, a sad smile forming on her lips. “For each complicated situation we are in, the only person who can deal with such complications, is ourselves. Everything is in our hands. The only question you should be asking yourself is, what is the outcome you wish to have? Then from there, I’m sure you’ll be able to find a solution to your complicated situation.”

“I wish it were that easy,” he frowns, fluttering his eyelids shut as he lets the cold night breeze brush against his skin.

A laugh escapes her lips, “Nothing is ever easy. Life would be boring if that were the case. But all I can say is, it’s really up to you whether you want to take action or not.”

A comfortable silence engulfs the two occupants on the balcony, the soft chatter from the V.League Association party almost seemed it were music flowing throughout the large penthouse, the usual busy streets of Shinjuku were quiet as the time flew by, signalling how late it had gotten.

“Thank you,” Atsumu breaks the silence, a small smile playing on his lips.

She nods her head, returning his smile with her own, “It’s nothing, really. I may not know what’s really happening, but I know the feeling of being part of a complicated situation. Trust me, I’m having a hard time following my own advice.”

“I’m sure you’ll—”

“Am I interrupting something?”

The two switch their attention over to the man that steps into the comfortable space, Atsumu flickering his gaze back and forth to the woman next to him and the volleyball player that made his appearance. He notes the stiff posture of the woman who had been accompanying him and he comes to the conclusion that it was his cue to leave. “Ah, no Ushijima-san. I believe you’re looking for this one, so I’ll leave you two to it.”

Before Atsumu could leave the two to talk, the woman calls out his name. He glances back over his shoulder, capturing a glimpse of her encouraging smile. “If you love her, you should let her know.”

He gives her an appreciative smile before stepping back inside of the penthouse, the murmur of a chatter earlier from the balcony becoming more clear and loud. Placing the half-empty bottle of Sapporo down on a surface in the lounging area, he glances over at the digital wall clock.

An hour until midnight. It would take him at least an hour or so to travel back to Kanagawa from Shinjuku.

Not wasting another second, despite the calls from his teammates, he leaves the party with determination.

The thin hospital blanket you had requested earlier from a nurse barely gave you any warmth, your body engulfed in a chilly embrace. Not even curling up your body to a fetal position and clinging the white sheets closer gave you any source of heat.

Letting out a groan of frustration, you push the blankets away and shift your body to a sitting position on the rather uncomfortable armchair provided by the hospital, giving up on sleep for the meantime. Aside from the murmur produced from the air conditioner and the steady beeping of Atsuhiro’s vitals indicating a healthy heartbeat from the monitor, it was too silent for your liking.

You realize it was almost midnight after a quick glance at the digital clock that rested on the surface of the side table next to Atsuhiro’s bed, and you couldn’t help but let out a heavy sigh. At least Atsuhiro was sleeping peacefully. It had taken a while before he had gotten used to sleeping in another bed that wasn’t his, often waking up in the middle of the night or not being able to sleep at all.

The sound of shuffling breaks your train of thought and you shift your attention over to your sleeping mother who you insisted occupied the small couch. A little sore back was nothing of an appreciation for your mother’s attentiveness to your sons. She had refused to return back to Hyōgo until Atsuhiro had been discharged from the hospital, and despite it taking awhile since there hadn’t been a suitable donor for him yet, not a single complaint had left your mother’s mouth.

You couldn’t help but shoulder the burden of the delay on finding Atsuhiro a donor, the past weeks had been hectic and stressful. And if you were going to be honest, ever since that disaster of a dinner, you had been putting off the idea of having the much needed talk with Atsumu. You were just thankful that Atsuhiro’s condition hadn’t worsened since then.

You were, more or else, afraid, of where or how the conversation was going to end. The doubt you had was not just because of your insecurities, but it was also because, since that night, you hadn’t heard from Atsumu himself. You couldn’t blame him, the night had ended in disaster as well, nor was the morning after very pleasant from being bombarded with strings of questions from your friends.

Fame.

It was something you never got used to despite your friends being in a boy band for so long. You were now under the spotlight, and what was worse was that after some thorough digging by crazy fans, your sons, your precious sons, had been dragged through mud. However, you were grateful for certain fans, the fans of Galaxy Standard in particular, had defended you without much of a command from their idols. As soon as your name, and your kids, were mentioned, they immediately jumped in to defend you. Bless their souls.

Although, you still couldn’t believe it yourself of the events that occurred right after you had exited the restaurant, intent on returning to the hospital.

The already dreadful night takes a turn for the worst, the annoying high pitched shrill being repeated causing you to wince as the woman who had completely ruined, well, a already ruined dinner made her way through the threshold of little sanity that you had left and closed the gap between her and Atsumu by wrapping her arms around his neck from behind where he sat, she was dangerously standing close to you, more so enough for you to maybe stab your chopsticks to her side for her pesky squealing. What is she trying to imitate? A tortured pig?

You didn't bother to cease your eye roll, this is Atsumu's type? Now, you know you aren't all that amazing or anything and looking at the woman clinging to Atsumu, she looked all around amazing, it was pretty obvious that she was a model. However, the personality she was exhibiting was nowhere near your expectations of the women Atsumu would date. It was overbearing.

Instead of dealing with such ridiculous antics from a grown woman acting like a child, you decide it was best to find an excuse to leave. As the opportunity presented itself on a silver platter, you took it without any hesitation despite the quiet protests of Reiji from behind you. Exhaustion had left you with little sanity and dealing with someone like Yumi, well, you weren’t having it.

Saying your polite goodbye, you left without another word, ignoring the pleading looks from your friends. It wasn’t as if you were angry or anything, maybe just a tad on the jealous side when Yumi had introduced herself as Atsumu’s girlfriend, but either than that, you just wanted a quiet night. The rowdy bunch was already enough to drain you, but having to deal with someone like Yumi? Yeah, no thanks.

Stepping out of the restaurant, you shiver from the rush of cold air that brushes against the exposed patches of skin, making you silently regret not bringing a jacket with you. Instead of dwelling on your silly mistake, you wrap your arms around yourself for your momentary source of warmth, rubbing your exposed arms with your soft palms, it would have to do for the meantime.

Luckily, you were familiar with the area since you’ve been to the restaurant more times than you can count, that despite not having a ride back to the hospital, you were at least knowledgeable of the area. You began your journey towards the nearest bus stop, knowing it was still fairly early since the dinner hadn’t even progressed that far yet. Somehow, despite being irritated by Yumi's presence, you were grateful for intrusion, at least you would be able to return to Atsuhiro earlier than expected. You’d have to give Shizuma a call once you return to the hospital to check on Atsuhiko.

Thankfully, the walk to the nearest bus stop was short, because walking in heels was never something you adored, wincing already from the discomfort. You couldn’t wait to take them off for much more comfortable shoes. However, as you neared the bus stop, you hear his pleading shouts of your name and you halt almost instantly. For a moment, you wondered if it were just in your head, but at the sound of shouts mixed with hurried steps grew louder, your heart swells weirdly in your chest. Spinning around, you come to face Atsumu, catching his breath, his hands on his knees.

“What…?” you mutter under your breath, “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be entertaining your girlfriend back there?”

As he regains his composure, he pushes himself to stand properly, meeting your gaze instantly. His gaze catching your breath in your throat. Mesmerizing.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” he shakes his head, looking at you with sincerity in his eyes, “I promise.”

The corners of your mouth tug down to a frown, “Why are you telling me this, Atsumu? It’s fine. You’re not obligated to tell me who you’re dating. Just because we have kids together, doesn’t mean we should fix our shit and get togeth—”

“I’m sorry,” he interrupts, causing your eyes to widen briefly before your brows furrowed in confusion from his apology. Sensing your confusion, he continues, “I’m sorry for everything. For our shitty past, for not treating you better, for not realizing my idiotic ways. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for a lot of things.”

You press your lips to a thin line, racking your brain for a response. Well, what were you supposed to say? You had imagined this before, imagined what it would be like when Atsumu apologizes for things, and back then, you would have seen yourself rejecting his apologies, but as you stood there at that very moment, you couldn’t find the anger that you had. Then, you realized. This was Atsumu.

Your best friend since you were eight years old, the one person that always bothered and teased you to no end, but no matter what, you could never find yourself being mad at him for a long period of time. You were always quick to forgive him.

“And, I’m sorry for this,” he breaks your train of thought and you wonder what he means for a second, but as he closes the gap between the two of you as he cups your cheeks in his hands, you don’t fight back.

You let him bring your face closer to his.

You don’t fight back.

Not even when his lips had found its rightful place against your own.

You are pulled from your thoughts at the sound of knocking echoing throughout the quiet room, not realizing how your fingers have found their way against your lips, brushing along its luscious shape, almost as if you were reminiscing the sensation of his lips.

The sound of knocking interrupts you once more and for a second, you had thought you had imagined it, but as it was repeated a few more times, you began wondering who it might be. After crossing the room in long strides, you slide the door open, eyes widening at the man standing before you.

“I love you.”

#atsumu x reader #atsumu x you #atsumu imagine #atsumu imagines #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu imagines #hq #hq x reader #hq imagine #hq imagines #hq x you #atsumu miya #miya atsumu #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu miya x reader

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writingsfromhome · 3 years

Text

Winner’s Choice

A/N: I only have series-type ideas in mind, so I’m trying to write out short one-shot type fics instead just to pump the breaks a little. Any ideas are welcome but here’s my go at this: you lost a drinking contest to Harry and winner decides a tattoo for the loser...

--------------

"3...2...1...GO!"

I lift the mug to my face and down the beer, ignoring how it splashes over the new top I had worn today. I should've know going out with Harry & Co meant I was getting messy.

Just a second apart, I slam my mug down.

"That was Harry!" The crowd shouts. "Harry's won!"

"It was tied!" I try to shout, ignoring Harry's smug face as his ego rises with the crowd's voice.

"I say rematch!" I shout.

"Don't be a sore loser, love!" Harry shouts at me. I stick my tongue out and hold my empty mug up, declaring louder I wanted a rematch. My swimming head tries to reason with me that it may not be a good idea but I needed to redeem myself.

Harry and I were good friends, I worked as an actor in the industry he dabbled in. And when he laughed at a stupid joke I made one day a few years ago, I'd latched onto him and we'd just become part of each other's lives since.

I moved across the pond from my childhood town in Maine when I turned 21 for an acting job, and have stayed since flitting from role to role. I missed my family and friends but moving here was also the best thing I did for myself. It did get lonely...which was why meeting Harry was also one of the best things to happen to me. Over the first year of knowing him, his friends became my friends and vice versa. I called them all Harry& Co. especially when I was drunk, all their faces blurred into each other and there were too many of them. Except for Harry. His face always stood out from a crowd. Being around him usually cured the ache I had for home.

"If I go again, you've got to put something on the table." Harry finally agrees. The crowd shouts out inappropriate things I could put down and I flip them off. I catch my friend's eye and she gives me a cautious look but I shake my head. I was having fun tonight.

"Loser gets a tattoo of the winner's choice. Tonight." Harry announces and the group goes crazier. My own mouth drops. I had to win this, knowing Harry he would do something ridiculous like his face on my ass. And this was the first time I lost to Harry, I could do this.

"Deal," I shake on it.

"Wait!" My friend tries to reason with us but we pull our mugs supplied by the crowd, closer to us.

"3...2...1...Go!"

I black out downing it but somehow, Harry's mug clashes down millisecond before mine does. A silence descends the room before Harry laughs. And suddenly everyone is shouting, cheering, throwing out tattoo ideas, and one voice is just shouting long live Harry over and over.

"I...." my mouth doesn't close on it's own, I lost. I rarely lost a drinking contest. But...Harry had me beat.

"Fair and square," Harry maneuvers around the table to sit beside me.

"I lost." I say, dumbstruck.

"It happens to the best of us, eventually." Harry kisses my cheek before jumping up and taking my hand. "Celebration dance."

I let him drag me to the dancefloor, trying to bring my mind back to reality. I was going to get a tattoo. My first. "Harry-Harry!" I try to get his attention. "Nothing ridiculous?"

"No promises," he winks. The alcohol sloshes in my brain as he pulls me into him and moves from side to side.

"Harry!" I shout out.

"You'll see," he grins, enjoying my torture way too much. "Just dance now."

His voice in my ear tickles, and I feel fluttery, far away. Some part of me knows that sober me was going to be pissed at drunk me.

I dance with Harry, following his lead, eventually drifting off to my friends, some strangers, and back to him.

"Should we get that tattoo now?" Harry says in my ear then.

"Maybe..." I try to put on my best convincing voice on. "We should wait for tomorrow."

"Nope!" Harry shouts gleefully. "Let's go now!"

"Nothing's open!" I shout but I was lying and he doesn't believe me for a second. I sigh, and find my friends to say goodbye. They try to tell me I didn't have to follow through but I know Harry would get this done one way or another. I may as well get it done while I was drunk and blame it on that.

The cold outside reminds me I left my coat inside, and when I come back out Harry's jumping up and down to keep warm. It makes me laugh but he quickly tugs on my arm. We run to stay warm towards wherever he decided this was going to happen.

It's a few blocks away, a sterile looking place with crazy colours on the walls that I realise are tattoo designs. The warmth inside the studio makes me shiver and Harry wraps his arm around me as we walk through.

"Harry nothing unprofessional please? I don't want to get fired from a job I don't even have." The cold air had sobered me up a bit and I was starting to regret this even more.

"Don't you trust me?" He asks with a glint to his eye that I didn't trust. "Wait here."

I sit down while he goes to talk to the artist, showing her his phone, pointing to various parts of his body.

"Y/N! Come on!"

I drag my feet over and glare at him as I settle in.

"You'll have to take your shirt off," Harry lets me know.

"You're picking where I get it too?" I ask.

"That's part of the deal!"

"I should've read the fine print," I grumble. Harry shows the artist the side of my rib cage-my shirt was still on but his finger traces a small curve up and down where he wants to place it. It sends butterflies to my stomach.

"Okay," I grab his hand so he could stop doing that. It wasn't helping my nerves. "Let's get this over with. But you can't stay."

"Yes I can," Harry insists. "I make up the rules."

"If I have to take my shirt off, he goes." I look at the girl giving me my tattoo and she shrugs, looking over at Harry. He sighs but agrees.

I take my shirt off and have to hike my bra strap higher, ready to settle into the torture.

"Please tell me it's nothing crude? His face included? Or a stupid message like Y/N hearts Harry?"

The artist laughs, "I'm not allowed to tell you anything apparently but from one girlfriend with a crazy boyfriend to another. It's not. Don't worry, just relax."

I try to tell her Harry wasn't my boyfriend but she turns away and I decide it wasn't worth it. I'd explained that a million times to my own mom who always asked if we'd gotten together yet. It was embarassing, my family back home was convinced we were having a secret affair. I stopped wasting my breath nowadays.

"So, do you get this kind of request often?" I try to make small talk.

"More than you think," the cold of whatever she spreads on my skin makes me shiver. I sort of wish Harry was here, to keep me distracted. I pull my phone out and text him.

"I'm back," his head pops in a few minutes later. The tattoo artist looks to me to make sure I was okay.

"Just talk your usual shit so I don't have to think about what I agreed to," I call out. He sits beside me but he falls silent. When I lift my head to look at him, he's staring at me. "Hey!"

"Sorry, I was thinking about the other tattoos I'm going to beat you into getting."

I roll my eyes, but my skin warms under his gaze. "I'm never agreeing to something like this ever again. You got me while I was weak."

"I'll convince you to get another tattoo again," Harry rolls closer to me. He rests his arms on my leg and leans his head on it.

"My leg's going to fall asleep," I warn him.

"Then we'll put another tattoo there," he smiles.

And back and forth we go, he keeps me distracted, and for the most part, the tattoo process is okay. I'm barely listening as she begins to tell me about its aftercare, she'd already said she would give me a pamphlet and Harry had plenty experience, I could ask him.

"Do you want to see it before I wrap it up?" She asks me. From what I felt, it was at least a few inches long and a bigger tattoo was too scary for me to think about.

"I need something to drink before I look at it," I say. "But I know if I don't like it it's his fault not yours."

"You'll love it," Harry pulls me to him and presses a wet kiss to my cheek. I push him away aggressively and agree to be bandaged. I tell Harry he owed me a few beers before I looked at it and he agrees. He purchases some on our way back to my place along with some food. The train ride home is mostly filled with him gloating but I suffer through it, imaging the worst case scenarios.

Back at my place, I stand in front of the full length mirror in my room, deathly afraid. I had waited nervously, threw back a couple of beers and shoved excessive pizza in my mouth. Harry seems more excited than me for the reveal and finally he joins me upstairs.

"So?" He asks, eyes on me in the mirror.

"Fine." I decide. I peel my shirt off slowly and Harry helps, I try to ignore the way my knees turn into jello at the sight of him doing that. "Fine."

My bra is crooked and I act as casual as possible that Harry is still standing behind me. I slowly peel the bandaging off, Harry comes around to help. I close my eyes as he finishes and count to three in my head. When I see it, my heart stops.

"Do you like it?" Harry asks like a kid on Christmas morning. He's buzzing with nervous excitement but all I can do is stare at the simple tattoo as my heart swells.

A few inches big, covering the side of my ribcage, is a twig of wild blueberries: a symbol of home.

"How did you..." I'm at a loss for words. My first tattoo. I just got my first tattoo, and it was...perfect.

"Well, you're always taking about how you miss home. And you rarely get to go back because of your schedule. And I looked up the official things for Maine, didn't think you wanted a moose so I-"

I shut him up by kissing him; that was the only possible response to this. He'd tricked me into getting the most perfect tattoo and if I was ever unsure before I was sure now that I loved Harry Styles. He knew me. His choice of tattoo made that clear. And I loved him.

"Woah," Harry steadies my shoulders when we part.

"It's perfect," I say, feeling tears well up in my eyes. "I don't know what else to say."

"I should've got you a tattoo a long time ago," he says before kissing me again. I could do this forever, I think, as I bury my hands in his hair.

His hand brushes the open tattoo and I flinch. It didn't hurt, but it was slightly sore.

"Sorry," he apologises against my lips. "We should probably take care of that."

"Ugh, wait." I kiss him one last time. "Where's that info sheet-"

"It's okay, c'mon." He leads me into the bathroom and sits me down on the countertop. I watch as he carefully washes his hands and washes the area. He knows where everything is. His face is scrunched in concetration as he washes and dries it. I marvel at how the evening started with his chaotic public personality to this gentle version here.

"This is gonna be cold," he warns before applying jelly over the whole thing. "Don't sleep on this side."

"I won't. I don't really plan on sleeping at all," I grab his shirt and pull him back up to me. I feel him smile as I kiss him, and he pushes me as far back as I can go before I hit the mirror behind me. I can tell he wanted this as bad as I did, and if it weren't for the tattoo we would be a roughened jumble on my bed right now.

"Bad night for a tattoo," he rests his forehead on mine.

"A tattoo can't stop me," I say. "Let's go." I lead him back to my bed and unclasp my bra. "I probably shouldn't be wearing this anyway."

"Fuck," Harry's mouth hangs open but before I can grow self conscious, he strides over and crashes into me. He doesn't bother with holding back, although he avoids my right side. But it doesn't even matter as I simultaneously forget every sense I have and feel every single nerve in my body at the same time as he takes me to bed.

After, when we lay facing each other on the bed, Harry uses his finger to trace my face. When he reaches my mouth, I kiss his finger. "Thanks. Tonight was...great."

"If you think tonight was great, wait until your tattoo heals." He swipes down my nose.

"I was only talking about the tattoo," I tease. "The rest of the night was...okay."

"Okay?" He immediately perches up.

"Yeah. Like...a 6 out of 10?"

He turns on his back and laughs, "You're in so much trouble. You better watch what you say next!"

"I'm not afraid of you--you had your chance with the tattoo and you chose something lovely."

He turns back to me, pressing a kiss to my lips. "You have to trust me."

"I do...usually." I smile. Harry rests his hand on my hip and zones out, his mind elsewhere. The silence stretched out and I can't help but ask.

"So...tonight isn't like, a one time thing right?" I was going to wait to ask but my nerves needed to be soothed. I also didn't want things between Harry and I to be in a gray area. He meant too much to me.

"No, unless...you want it to be?"

"No!" I nearly shout. "Only the tattoo part. Everything else, I'd like again."

"Okay, good." He slides closer to me under the duvet. "Because I wouldn't mind putting a label on this and-"

"Done." I say, not caring how eager I sounded because the grin that splits his face shows the same eagerness.

I mentally apologise to all the people I scolded who asked when Harry and I would get together. As I nuzzle my head into his chest, and he drapes his arm around me, I just think about how right it feels and why I didn't do it sooner. Tonight was a crazy night of bad decisions but every single outcome was perfect.

"I love you Y/N," Harry says after a while, I thought he'd already fallen asleep. I peek out from my position and his eyes are closed. I wait a moment but they remain closed.

I snuggle back in and suppress the urge to squeal. This night felt too good to be real, like I would wake up tomorrow morning and realise it was all a drunk-hallucination. And on the off chance that might be true, I wrap myself tighter against him and whisper the words back, hoping that he was awake enough to hear them.

When his arms tighten around me, I fall asleep happy, knowing he knows too. Maybe tomorrow morning, I would say it again.

#harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #writingsfromhome #fic #one shot #idk

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sapphirelycoris · 3 years

Text

𝑨 𝑩𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝑩𝒆𝒕𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝑨𝒓𝒓𝒐𝒈𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆 & 𝑨𝒇𝒇𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕: 𝑰

Rating: Teen

Warnings: Suggestive lines, pining (like a lot because Enji's a simp), enemies to lovers style writing, weird 19th century type dialogue but I think it's still readable. Please tell me if I missed any.

Ship: Enji Todoroki x female reader (she/her)

Word count: 2,707

Music: Pride & Prejudice Music & Ambiance

Author's note: I know some of the character's relationships with others are kind of weird but I casted them according to personality. For example, Ryuko reminds me of Charlotte Lucas and Nejire reminds me of her little sister, Maria. I just kind of threw names around haha... A NSFW and continuation soon to come. God, it's been a while since I posted anything on this blog.

Written/created for: @pleasantanathema's Through Ink and Quill | A Classics Collab

Summary: A Pride and Prejudice inspired piece, featuring Enji Todoroki as the male love interest. Loosely following the plot of the actual novel with a few twists on the actual story's dialogue, characters, & events. When you meet Mr. Enji Todoroki, he was the last man in the world you'd ever want to be around. However, as your paths cross more and more, you see that your first impression of him was inaccurate.

"The world works in mysterious ways. He doesn’t know what happened and when it began. Suddenly, Enji cannot stop longing to be in the same room with you. To go one more moment without you seemed like a sin or some unbearable divine punishment for his greatest flaw: pride."

𝑉𝑎𝑛𝑖𝑡𝑦 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑑𝑒 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑑𝑖𝑓𝑓𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑡𝘩𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠, 𝑡𝘩𝑜𝑢𝑔𝘩 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑𝑠 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑜𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑛 𝑢𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑠𝑦𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑦𝑚𝑜𝑢𝑠𝑙𝑦. 𝐴 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑜𝑛 𝑚𝑎𝑦 𝑏𝑒 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑑 𝑤𝑖𝑡𝘩𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑏𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑣𝑎𝑖𝑛. 𝑃𝑟𝑖𝑑𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑠 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑜𝑝𝑖𝑛𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑜𝑓 𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑣𝑒𝑠; 𝑣𝑎𝑛𝑖𝑡𝑦, 𝑡𝑜 𝑤𝘩𝑎𝑡 𝑤𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝘩𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑜𝑡𝘩𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑡𝘩𝑖𝑛𝑘 𝑜𝑓 𝑢𝑠. -𝐽𝑎𝑛𝑒 𝐴𝑢𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑛

The world works in mysterious ways. He doesn’t know what happened and when it began. Suddenly, Enji cannot stop longing to be in the same room with you. He dreamed about the sight of your eyes, glancing at him with mild contempt. You occupied his thoughts, both innocent and indecent… He was going to go mad if you didn’t share the same affections that he did. He didn’t want you. Not at all. He needed you by his side. To go one more moment without you seemed like a sin or some unbearable divine punishment for his greatest flaw: pride.

When he blatantly insulted you at the first gathering he attended and saw you laugh about it with Ryuko, for once, he felt uneasy. The same woman he had slighted was now the one who controlled him. He noticed the way you looked embarrassed at your family’s antics. It disgusted him that he was obsessing over someone with that kind of background.

It certainly shocked Enji when you stood him up at Sir Yorio’s gathering. How dare you! For him to stoop down and offer to dance with you, only for you to reject him, was truly offensive. A woman far below his social status, refusing to stand up with him. The nerve.

Every single snarky quip that left your lips swam around in his mind. Your sharp tongue was attractive. The moment he saw you with mud on your dress, walking from your home to Toshinori’s country estate, he was taken aback. For some reason, he couldn’t get rid of that image. The sun hit your face perfectly, creating an enchanting glow that accompanied your delightful countenance.

“Ms. (L/N).” Your name rolled off his lips so naturally.

The regrettable moment you had to leave Toshinori’s estate, he helped you into the carriage which would take you home. Something transpired, far beyond his comprehension. Your hand fit so perfectly in his, he couldn’t help but want it to stay there forever. The missing piece to a puzzling man such as himself finally found its way to its rightful spot. It seemed you wished for the same thing. His grip was secure, he felt safe, and you were trapped, staring into the most beautiful cerulean eyes. At the same time, Enji could drown in your eyes forever. The confused look you gave him was endearing when he refused to let go.

His actions also startled him. Why was he so stuck on you? He flexed his hand, imagining that yours never left as he watched the carriage shrink, moving further from the manor and into the distance. When was the next time he would be allowed to see you? What was it going to take to cure this infatuation?

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

The next time he saw you, was under more unfortunate circumstances. He was riding downtown with Toshinori when he spotted your little party. Unlike his friend, Enji looked unhappy when he saw who you were talking with. You briefly exchanged eye contact with him before he had a clear look of disdain displayed on his face.

Keigo’s eyes followed yours. He tipped his hat, but Enji made no attempt to return the friendly gesture. He hurried away on his horse without saying a word. The encounter was certainly unusual. Keigo looked discomforted by the interaction. You wondered what could have transpired between the two men that caused such tension.

That night, at your aunt’s home, you sat down and heard what Keigo had to say about his reunion with Enji. He told his side of the story. He painted Enji as the villain in his narrative. Seeing as how you already found the man so disagreeable, you couldn’t help but believe Keigo’s words. He was much more forthcoming than his old friend; he didn’t seem capable of telling a lie. This new story caused you to see Enji in a new light, only deepening your dislike for the man.

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

Toshinori was a man of his word and held the ball that he promised your sisters. Enji was less unenthusiastic than he usually was. Knowing that he’d get to see you there was the night’s one redeeming feature. He was excited at the thought of getting to lay his eyes on you once more, and it sickened him.

Many of the officers were attending the ball. While linking arms with Toshinori and walking around the ballroom, you searched for Keigo among the redcoats the officers wore. Instead of finding him, you found a pair of familiar blue eyes that looked at you with well-hidden passion and yearning. Enji wanted to tear you away from Toshinori’s arms and have you all to himself. He had many selfish desires, and he usually got what he wanted, but you were the exception.

Women fawned over him, trying to get a taste of his money. Even Rei tried being overly friendly with him. He cared little for them; he wasn’t looking to fall in love. He was not in search of a wife. Enji was quite content with the life he had. Everything he wanted was in his grasp. But you? You were so close yet so far. There was an uncomfortable amount of emotional space between you and he wanted to close it. Being in the same room wasn’t enough anymore. He wanted to touch you, feel your skin, claim those alluring lips for himself. He wanted to see your whole being without any pesky fabric in the way. If only he could rip that dress off of your body after forcefully pulling you into a vacant bedroom.

He made his way over to you, but an officer blocked his view. He informed you that Keigo would not be in attendance. Part of it was because of an assignment he had to do, but he also wanted to avoid a certain man… Your younger sisters drug the officer away, leaving you alone in the middle of a crowded room.

Fortunately, you spotted Ryuko, who was standing alone in the corner. You went to inform her of everything that had happened lately. An unwelcome guest interrupted you.

“Ryuko, may I introduce you to my cousin, Mr. Tobita?” While remaining civil, you introduced them to each other. He took your hand and led you to dance. As it turns out, the man can’t dance. He went the wrong way, bumping into another lady. It was embarrassing, to say the least.

Enji watched in amusement as he saw you struggle to keep a smile. You made eye contact with him again, almost sending him a look of desperation. Dancing with him would be better than your current situation. He simply smirked and waltzed around the room, observing everyone.

While you were busy venting to Ryuko, the very man you were talking about came up to you. The two of you exchanged glances and bowed. “If you are not otherwise engaged, would you do me the honor of dancing the next with me?” Enji’s odd invitation made your eyes widen slightly.

There was no way out of it. You tried coming up with an excuse, but nothing came to mind. He smiled slyly as you fumbled over your words. “I- well I hadn’t... yes. Thank you…” With no escape, you were trapped. He walked off, and you lingered behind for a minute.

“You’d be a fool if you didn’t take him up on his offer. It’s a great compliment that he singled you out.” Ryuko commented.

“The last time he singled me out was to slander me. Hateful man…” you hissed before going to follow him.

As the music started to play, you studied Enji’s face. It was the first time you’d ever really taken the time to analyze all of his features. You hated to admit it, but he was handsome. Unusually handsome.

Finally, your hand had made its way back into his. Even if it was only for a brief moment, that feeling would stick with him until the end of the night. The two of you danced around with your words, conversing back and forth when the time was appropriate. You simply couldn’t bear the silence.

Couples pranced around the dance floor elegantly, stepping where they needed to. You two moved in sync, never letting your eyes wander. There was a burning passion for the man that you couldn’t get rid of. Whether it was burning hatred, lust, or love, you couldn’t tell. Hostility and tension seemed to be all that came out of your encounters with him. The sexual tension was the one thing that kept you from completely despising Enji and you hated it.

In an attempt to rile him up, you remarked on Keigo and the last time Enji saw you. “The last time I was in town, I was forming a new acquaintance.” A sly grin spread across your face as the words came out.

“Mr. Takami’s friendly personality is what allows him to make friends so easily. Though his ability to keep them is debatable.”

“How unfortunate he must be, to lose your friendship, a loss I am sure he will regret for the rest of his life.” You mocked in an airy and hushed tone. Before Enji could snap back, Mr. Toyomitsu came over to hint at a marriage between your sister and Toshinori. The two of you glanced at the smiling pair before dancing again. “Didn’t you say that you rarely ever forgave? That your hatred, once set in stone, was set indefinitely? Surely a man such as yourself is careful when breeding such hatred.”

“Of course I am.” Enji scoffed.

“And I presume you do not let prejudice blind you?”

“No. What is the purpose of these questions, if I may ask?” He grumbled, disliking your inquiries.

“Simply a means to figure out your constitution.” You laughed, “Trying to get a good idea of your character.”

“And your findings?”

“None. I have heard of you on different accounts by different people with different views of you. You shall remain a mystery until I comprehend you.”

With the dance ending, Enji remained silent. Once the music faded, he supported your hand as you lightly held it over his. “I request that you do not attempt to perceive my character right now. It would do us no favors if you judged wrong.” He claimed as you left the dance floor.

“I may not get another opportunity, so I might as well try while I have the chance.”

Enji placed himself right next to you and leaned to whisper in your ear. He lowered his voice, making sure only you could hear. “I would by no means suspend any pleasure of yours.” His finger brushed against your arm as he walked away. All the heat in your body rushed to that spot. You wanted his warmth against your skin, you didn’t want him to go.

And yet, you were standing alone in the corner of a crowded room, fixated on the man who you swore to never like.

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

Much had happened over a short amount of time. You had rejected Mr. Tobita’s marriage proposal and got an earful from your mother. Keigo got engaged to a rich young lady, and Ryuko had gotten engaged to Mr. Tobita. Enji and Toshinori’s party had left his estate, and your sister was disheartened. Everyone had such high expectations for her and Toshinori, only for him to up and leave.

Now, you were on your own adventure. You, Sir Yorio, and Nejire were going to visit her and Mr. Tobita. They lived in a small house on Lady Chiyo’s property. Greenery grew on the stone, adding to the natural feel of the house. It was a quaint little grey structure with a clear blue sky in the background.

As soon as the carriage stopped, Ryuko and her husband rushed out the door to greet you. They showed you to your rooms while Mr. Tobita kept on about Lady Chiyo’s house and how grand it was. It seemed he was more in love with Chiyo than his own wife.

“Are you happy here?” You asked Ryuko as you watched the other three walk around the garden.

“I am quite content with my situation. I barely see him during the day. He sits in his book room, walks to Lady Chiyo’s every day, and-”

“And you prefer to sit in your own wing of the house.” You finished. Whether it was what she was going to say or not, you stated your mind. Ryuko smiled wistfully, “Yes.”

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

While you and Ryuko were walking through the woods, along with Nejire, Mr. Tobita came running after you. He was clearly out of breath but told you his news, anyway. Enji and his cousin, Kugo, had arrived. He urged you to make your way back to the house, since they wanted to visit with them.

“Pleasure to finally meet you Ms. (L/N).” Kugo smiled.

“Oh? ‘Finally’, sir?”

“My cousin speaks of you often.” He informed.

“Ah…” You sighed, looking over at Enji who met your gaze, only hungrier.

Enji’s eyes never left you, though. There was a protective aura emitting from him. Just in case Kugo spoke or acted out of line, he was ready to come to your aid at any moment. He rested his knuckles against his mouth. Instead of addressing anyone else in the room, he was intently watching and listening to your conversation.

“Pray tell, why is Mr. Todoroki staring at me?” You asked Kugo, having enough of being watched over like you were some kind of prey, “Have I done or said something he finds offensive?”

The man stood up from the sofa and meandered over to the table you were seated at. He had no control of his own actions. It was quite an impulsive move, and now he didn’t know what to say. “How is your family?” He choked out.

“Well.” You replied, “My sister has been in town for quite some time. Have you happened to see her?”

“No.” Enji lied, “Unfortunately not.”

“As you can tell, Mr. Todoroki and I are not very close.”

“Really? I find that hard to believe.” Kugo exclaimed.

“Truly? I believe in first impressions, however, Mr. Todoroki’s good opinion, once lost, is lost forever.” Your words caused him to turn around, and he saw your smiling face, making a joke of him.

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

The grounds of Lady Chiyo’s property were breathtaking. When the weather allowed, you took advantage of the sprawling greenery and went out for as many walks as you could. Without a cloud in the sky, an endless sea of blue, and shining sun, you wasted no time in getting outside. It was much more productive and enjoyable than sitting in the house.

A beautiful little trail, hidden by the estate’s magnificent trees, was the path you found yourself walking along. You looked up to admire how tall the trees had grown. They stood proud and provided you with shade. The birds sang a lovely little tune, supplying you with a unique sound that rivaled that of the best musicians.

Enji came trotting through the path from the side. He halted his horse once he saw you. No painting could do you justice, even one made by the best painter in the world could compare to your beauty in person. The sight of you admiring the picture in front of you made his heart pound. Though you said nothing, he believed that you, taking the time to simply look at him, was the greatest compliment he would ever receive.

And for those few precious minutes, he drank in your appearance. He was hopelessly in love with you. Being in your presence was the best part of his day. He found himself looking forward to seeing you. He always prayed for you to cross paths with him. Even if he simply caught a glimpse of you, suddenly it brightened his entire day.

Unfortunately, he had other things to do. Enji spurred his horse forward and trotted away. Your presence in his life was much bigger than he expected when he first met you. And somehow… he didn’t mind it. He hated yet loved the feeling of being in love.

#endeavor x reader #bnha endeavour #endeavor #todoroki enji #enji todoroki x reader #todoroki endeavor #enji x reader #enji x you #19th century #shitty writing but it's something #I kind of hate this but I hate everything I write #my hero academia enji #endeavor x y/n #I am disgusted at myself for being so late to submit this for the collab #Pleasantanathema forgive me.#What's up with the shitty title #not proof read forgive the shitty grammar and punctuation

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btswishes · 3 years

Text

Love me for who I am now

Bucky x Reader ( Chapter 1 )

Part1 / Next

Summary: You apply for the Stark internship and end up getting it, so now you have 5 months to make a good impression to continue working with the Avengers.

A/N: This is my first Marvel fic and I am taking it as a challenge. It is opposite of what my account was made, but here I go. Sorry for any mistakes made, hope you enjoy it even a tiny bit.

Word count: 3,281

Warmings: fights, harsh language, not part of the original MCU

Y/N- Your name Y/L/N: Your Last Name

--------------------------------------

Through sleepless nights and dark circles, books and pens, through months of work you reached your goal. The moment you received the acceptance letter from Stark University you almost flew out the window without a fear in your mind. This was it!

Time had passed since that moment, but it is still engraved in your mind- a memory keeping you strong during the hard midterms and piles of work, even the small glimmers of regret. Trying your best wasn’t an option, you could do only that and no less. It was no easy task, lost social life as much as you tried to keep it. You were really lucky you had good friends that understood and supported you. University wasn’t easy for anyone making this one even tougher. People of all ages, backgrounds and cultures were piled up with you in this building. The best of the best as the slogan said, the ones that proved themselves and emerged victorious.

When you were young ,you used to spend a lot of time with your uncle at his places outside the country. He would introduce you to his work colleagues and things you had never seen before. There was a time where you would spend months on end with him. Not many memories were left from those moments in your head. At one point you spend a few years with him, your mother thought it would be good experience for you and it turned out to be nothing but the truth-at least you hoped so. You learned a lot from him and his friends, it felt like each spend day would offer you more knowledge in areas you never knew of. Computer work, ways of thinking and so much more that had become second nature to you.

The sky was tinted in a wash of oranges, reds and yellows bleeding one into the other, swirling around the sun emitting them. The day was ending, but you found yourself filling up an application in the library, covered by the silence and smell of exam worry.

Sponsored and founded by the one and only Tony Stark, this establishment offered an internship. Being part of the Avengers, Tony didn’t let just anyone from the students attending in, even if they were the best labeled by the school. It had been a year and a half since you started pushing yourself harder to be able to apply and there was nothing that could stop you. Pressing your finger over the enter button was very nerve wrecking yet simple. Even if it didn’t work out this year, you planned to do it again and again ,till he had no other choice but give you a chance.

Usually F.R.I.D.A.Y. went over everything and left only the applications worth going over by Tony himself or Pepper. The next 5 weeks for you were very stressful, but there was nothing more you could do but wait and focus on your own work. The first person you wanted to tell about this was your uncle. He went to work in some distant place where they had no internet so you switched to mail. Not as much paper under his name passed through your hands, as he had stopped answering you. You missed him, but the muddy childhood memories kind of compensated for that.

“Did you send it in?” the phone muffled a bit the sweet voice coming from the speaker

“Yeah, a few days ago actually.” You answered with a gentle sigh

“And no answer yet?” the girl’s pitch rose at the end of the sentence, amazed at that what she just heard

“I know, I know. Think about it though Nea. Who knows how many applications get submitted. Someone has to brush through them after all.” defending the situation was a form of coping for you, made you feel hopeful.

“So you are trying to tell me Tony Stark’s interface or whatever it’s called, can’t sort them out in a couple of hours? Come on Y/N! You and I both know you are trying to make yourself feel better.” The small pause made you anxious over what Nea said “Listen.” A breathy start of the sentence “ I don’t mean to brag, but I think I am one of the people who know exactly how much you deserve this. You were never the studious type, plus that you were gone for years on end with that mysterious uncle of yours. I never expected you to suddenly go for Stark University. Your dream changed you, from this quiet kid to crazy ol’ you right now on the call with me.I ain’t letting you bust yourself up over this just because it didn’t happen the first time around-”

Ding ding

Nea’s deep speech was cut off before she could unleash herself completely, by the slight ring of your phone’s notification.

“Who tf has the audacity to text while the great me is giving this legendary –“

Ding!

The second time the sound sung out made her choke up with anger, you could almost see the fumes coming out of the phone.

“WHO IS IT!” a loud hiss pierced your ear

“Maybe if you gave me a minute I could answer your question.” Pulling the call down, your finger ran over the screen to the email, making your notification lamp blink like a car. Almost instantly it opened before your eyes and you gasped. The action made you swallow suddenly and cough out a bit ,giving poor Nea an idea about the level of shock you were in.

“What?What? You can’t just almost die and not tell me what is going on.” She proceeded with a not so tasteful interrogation.

“I-…they accepted my application…” at the end a small smile flowed over your lips contorting the sound coming out

“Stop!?” she choked up as well “You gotta be fucking with me!? No fucking way this is real!”

“I am honest. It says here that they liked my skill set, my grades and the way of thinking I presented in my essay. I got the spot Nea! I fucking did it!” you threw the phone on the bed letting it bounce as you started dancing.

“Of course you did! I told you! You will be working with THE AVENGERSSSS!” at some point it sounded like your best friend was more excited than you “When do you start?”

“Well…” taking a second to calm down and re-establish contact with your phone, you looked up the schedule that came attached with the email “…ok…so it says here that I will be starting on Monday so~ in 2 days? “

“So soon! Any requirements for the job miss Avenger’s sidekick?” and the teasing begins

“A list, surprisingly.” Rolling onto your back, you held the screen away and above your face, scrolling past “ I guess my first job will be with Dr. Banner in the lab. Apparently I will be given some sort of assignments throughout the 5 months work span. I will be monitored by Dr. Bruce Banner and the grading, I guess if you can call It that ,will be done by Tony Stark himself.”

“Basically Hulk will be your babysitter.” once this girl starts teasing she never stops even in amazing situations such as this one, good thing you loved her “That sounds so cool though! You will be able to meet Captain America and Black Widow~! I am so jelly of you I swear! When you leave work make sure to wait for someone from the group to walk by, omgggg I am fangirling so much right now.What if you go to dinners with them!?AAAAA!”

“Fun thing about that.” Your eyes landed on the last paragraph of the email “It says here that I am supposed to move into the compound and stay there till further notice. The whole idea is that if I do things well I will get a permanent job. Weird…” you hummed

“Weird !? How? That is so cool! Who knows you might even become an Avenger! You will be living with them anyways.” at this point Nea was either not breathing or hyperventilating so fast you couldn’t hear it

“Don’t be ridiculous.” your attention landed once more on the thought process you had a moment ago “I don’t get one thing. They say here that my PE grades combined with my IT and overall studies make me a great candidate, but I don’t remember sports being a requirement at all, or even providing them in the first place. Does it mean that if my grades were low in that department I wouldn’t have gotten the spot?”

“I guess people of science aren’t that flexible. Who cares anyways! You got in, no ifs and buts. I am telling you, at this point you could be an Avenger.” poor girl began thinking of names and suit designs for you “ Hurry up and pack those bags before I drop by with take away, so we can gossip over Steve Rogers’s abs.”

“Um…don’t get me wrong he is super hot, I just see the Cap more like an older brother figure than anything.” It was true, you looked up to him since the first time you studied about the Civil War. Fearless, gave his life in a way for his people, astonishing man over all.

“Hey! Let me drool over him! You were always more of a Winter Soldier fan anyways.” Nea pouted audibly . Her words made some lone memory pop up in your head, but it was as murky as the rest. “I don’t know why I am interested in him. Somehow his look is very nostalgic and rugged. Anyways. ”you shook your head out of the mental image of the soldier “I will go pack up, tell my parents and fix up all my documents. Probably find some stuff from former Stark employees online. I want to have a bit of an idea of what he expects and what I am getting myself into.”

“Fine fine, you could have just said you like troubled guys. You were the one who was happy Loki got a second chance after all. I will be over in like 3 hours.” She informed you

“Hey! He deserved to redeem himself, he was used!” a firm Loki supporter as always “Ok then, see ya.”

Hanging up the call you placed your phone to charge and rolled off your bed. The email gave vague information about what you needed, but clothing wise you would still be able to come home and get stuff if you had to. What was on top of your priorities were papers, documents, all your research materials and tech. Those things had to be organized no matter what ,since they got you this far in the first place.

Nae came over as planned and you two had a nice sleepover talking about you know who. The night came and left, letting the morning find you in your bed at 11am. Your forearm rested on top of your forehead in a relaxed manner, letting enough space for an exhale to linger in the air in front of you. Your mind was going over everything that was about to happen to you. It was one of your dreams, you worked for it nonstop day in day out, so why were you so worried about meeting the rest of the Avengers? Maybe it was just anxiety or fear of the unknown, yeah made sense.

All you did during the day was make lists for every piece of tech you were binging with yourself. Things seemed to be in order, but worry kept nibbling on your bones. The moment of truth finally rolled up and so did your suitcase in front of your house. Nea came to send you off as she promised.

“Sweetie, make sure to call us every day. Eat well, don’t overwork yourself and-“ your mom went off with caution about anything and everything that came to mind

“Mom, you know I am going 3 blocks down from here right? Plus I can come home at any time I want to. I am not moving to Mars or getting arrested.” You smirked the panic away from her, giving them a big hug.

“Call me or text me when you get there.” Nea pulled you in, whispering in your ear as quietly as possible “And don’t forget to sneak me a booty pick of good ol’Cap. You know what they say-”

“That is America’s ass.” Your voice came out in a mocking tone

“That i-…let me at least finish it by myself! Geez!” she pushed you towards the door “Ok ok, go now before you spoil me something else” her arms crossed in front of her chest

The walk wasn’t that long, you were too invested in your own thoughts to notice when the time and distance had passed. The glistening windows of the compound building shined into your eyes. Your lungs filled up with a breath that they kept in for a moment, before releasing it back in the outside world. Pulling out the documents you stepped in. The fresh smelling air hit you making you close one eye for a second.

People were walking around you fast and concentrated. Some looked in a hurry, others were on break with a cup of coffee and a strain-leaving expression.

Your feet, as slightly shaky as they were, took you right up to the front desk were a lady with a dark rich red colored uniform looked at you. She flashed a professional smile, her eyes asking for your purpose.

“Um, hello. My name is Y/N -Y/L/N.” she saw the logo on your papers and gasped

“You must be the new intern Mr. Stark told us about.” She signed something and reached out “Can you give me your hand for a second.” Your fingers didn’t go past the surface of the desk when she pocked your skin. Pulling in your extremity, your palm wrapped around the spot that began to sting a bit “Don’t worry about it. This is your identification pass. Fancy, no?” she smiled winking. Her body stood up as she pointed at the elevator far in the back of the foyer.

Instructions were given with each step of the way, calming your nerves a bit. The moment you found yourself inside the elevator she pulled your hand to the sensor on the wall next to the buttons.

Recognized: Code 2514. Welcome Miss Y/N

Your head shot up when F.R.I.D.Y.’s voice echoed in the small space. The women smiled giving you a small nod and stepped out of the vicinity. Once her body was outside ,the doors slid closed. Over them glowed a protective blue light layering over the material like a soft veil.

It felt like you weren’t moving an inch. Your body flinched when the sun stung at your eyes from the window. Your gaze landed over the view of the city, as you went higher and higher, ascending into the clouds The blues and yellows were covering the inside of the elevator, such vibrant and lovely colors warming your body. For a moment your heart felt heavy- lost memory tugged onto it again. An often occurrence lately, yet you kept brushing off as deja vu.

Floor 134. Welcome to the Avenger’s compound Miss Y/N

“134!?” the numbers cracked out with your voice. The interface made you turn towards the opposite opening doors revealing a room as big as a hall, if not almost a stadium. The ceiling was high being the lid to this round area. Your heart beat increased pumping blood to your body, dilating your pupils at least twice their original size. It look amazing, almost like you had just entered heaven. The walls were white, the furniture was perfectly placed and cream colored. Stepping outside you jumped at the sound of the elevator doors closing behind you.

“Wow” escaped your lips, your hand pulling the suitcase closer. So this was the common room or the shared space. The windows were so big they were practically a wall of their own. The bright rays were making themselves at home giving the white paint a new color with each passing minute. The ceilings were probably the equivalent of 3 floors in height. There was this weird feeling of home inside, a bit of isolation maybe mixed in.

“Miss Y/N?” your head swung to the side when you recognized that shy but bright smile. Throwing the papers on top of your suitcase, you extended your arm at the man.

“Ah.” Good thing your mind automatically responds politely to people without you giving it much thought “Dr. Banner. It is my pleasure to make your acquaintance.” you shook his hand gently a couple of times and let go ,finding the papers and showing them to him “My name is Y/N-Y/L/N.” gentle bow and a smile followed the words skillfully chosen

“Welcome Welcome. Tony is out right now so I might be the only one actively walking around the compound. Well…”he scratched the back of his neck, lightly hunching over with a sheepish smile “I am one of the people you will be working under anyways, so I guess it is good that I came to get you. I would love to show you the lab, but I am sure you would like to set up your things first.” You nodded and he showed you to your room. The corridor had 3 tall doors scattered on the walls, all looking modern and elegant.

“This is the side where usually we have our female members. Natasha and Wanda will be your nextdoor neighbors. Hope it won’t be any trouble.” Bruce looked at you ,when an aggressive shake took over your neck

“No, no. Not at all sir. I am very grateful to have such amazing heroes next to me. As a matter of fact won’t they be troubled with me here?” and here came the normal anxiety that you had for everything

“I am sure they will like you. Don’t worry about it.” Bruce stepped next to the door and waved you over “You don’t have a key or a door handle as a matter of fact. Tony’s idea, don’t ask. If you got up here on your own I assume he made the girls downstairs give you an identification implant. That is basically your entrance for everything here. Kind of an Avengers thing.” You nodded and him wiggling his fingers like a spell. Placing your hand on the door like he told you activated F.R.I.D.A.Y.

Recognized: Y/N. Access and ownership granted.

The metal frame slid open and you found yourself standing before a big room. It was nicely furnished. The desk was big enough for you to work on it and have everything around. Bookshelves empty and ready to be used on your left and a large bed on your right flush against the wall. The window was once more its own wall right in front of you standing behind the desk. The bathroom door was opening a space before the shelf the same color as the paint in the common room.

“I will let you set up. If you need anything F.R.I.D.A.Y. is always here. The room is interactive, you can ask exactly what works under the interface’s control. The door is one.Take your time.”he was on his way out “Would you like some coffee or tea?”

“I would like some tea, thank you very much.” Bruce flashed you a smile “F.R.I.D.A.Y. the door please.”

Door closed

Done as said and requested, clicking behind you.

Would you like an extensive list of my functions as an assistant?

“Please do.”

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