#fluff on end lol
Text
Homebodies
A little fluff for your TTPD weekend.
~~~
“No I promise, just sit down, I’ll be done in just a minute, mom.” she says firmly in response to her mother asking if she needs any help in the kitchen. Travis just gives Andrea that one look she’s grown to know too well. His eyebrows raised an inch and a smirk on his face that tells the blonde woman he’s got her daughter all figured out.
Leave it to me.
She giggles quietly at Travis, then slowly walks back into the living room to sit down next to Scott. Travis looks at all the different dishes on the counter behind her. The California sun is slowly setting. He should’ve known this morning when she announced that she’ll cook ‘a few Italian primi piatti’ that the ruthless perfectionist lurking inside of his girlfriend would finally make a come back on this Friday. After running around all day, going to the gym, completing her cardio challenge, baking cupcakes for her parents, finishing a work meeting, discussing a music video concept with her team and signing a few new contracts, she of course decided to hit the delicacy shop she loves out here in LA, just to buy all the ingredients she needs for a total of six different Italian dishes that she wants to make for him and her parents tonight. He knows too well by now that whenever Taylor is in this state of mind, there’s no stopping her. If she sets her mind onto something, there’s nothing anyone can say or do to make her loosen up a little. Even if that would involve her actually enjoying this quiet evening with him and her family instead of standing in the kitchen for a solid two hours now, not having had a single conversation with any one of her parents yet.
“What else needs to be done? I can cut veggies? I’m good at cutting stuff.” he tries one last time, steals a carrot stick from her cutting board and starts munching. While stirring the big blue Dutch oven in front of her, she looks back at him for a second, stressed, clearly not amused that he’s eating her uncooked food.
“No, all good. I just need to make sure the risotto won’t thicken too much and once that’s done you guys can sit down and eat the carpaccio before it gets soggy because I need to take the bread out of the oven and quickly scrap together the bruschetta sauce..”
Travis just sighs deeply, takes a step closer towards her. She’s too stressed whipping up the food in front of her to even notice him trying to get closer.
“How about we just let the bruschetta be? We’ve got so much food, babe. It’s just us four. It’s also really late already.”
She shakes her head, not responding to him and he knows that if he pushes her any more now, she might actually get mad at him tonight.
“How about I start cutting some tomatoes for the bruschetta then?” he says with a sigh, finally gave into her obsession with the tomato bread. For a moment she looks up at him, a weak smile on her face. It immediately lights up his entire body.
“That would be great.” she just says, still a bit hesitant and he knows why. She’s not sure if she should be happy that he’s offering to help her, or if she should be worried about the fact that he might cut off his fingers while doing so.
“Sure.” he says, can see the washed and perfectly ripe tomatoes sitting in the drain by the sink right next to her. He grabs one of the tomatoes, holds it up in the air with a question mark on his face.
“Little cubes?”
She nods, a smile on her face.
“Thanks, Trav.” she says then, still busy stirring the risotto in front of her. She doesn’t even notice that he gets closer to her, and fast enough has stolen her cheek a gentle kiss. She giggles all surprised about his gentleness, then feels him lean in again after a second.
“You’re very welcome, crazy.”
Another kiss leaving her cheek. She just giggles, continues stirring her risotto.
_________
“Taylor, that was absolutely incredible.”
She smiles proudly at her father sitting across from her, takes one last sip from her white wine.
“Thanks so much. So glad you liked it.”
“Honey, it was delicious but you didn’t have to put in all this work just because we’re visiting.” Andrea says, her tone a bit more dunning than Scott’s was before. Taylor just rolls her eyes, a bit annoyed that everyone around her acts like she reinvented the wheel with this Italian dinner. Yes, it was some cooking time to prepare this meal, but she loves hosting and loves being a cook. Her mom should know that better than anyone.
“Tay loves spoiling our guests.” Trav says then, and Taylor looks up at the big man sitting next to her. She starts smiling. Our guests. It was a simple sentence. But it made her feel a certain way. He’s home. This has become his home, too.
“I do. Also, this is Trav’s favorite dish. So..”
“Hey, don’t put this on me now.” He says quickly, jokingly holds up his hands in an innocent gesture that makes the whole table laugh. Taylor can’t help but giggle, too. She playfully hits him in the side.
“I gained fifteen pounds since December, Scott. Fifteen pounds.” he says dramatically to both Andrea and Scott, who amusedly witness the interaction between him and Taylor.
“That’s a good sign, though.” her father laughs, especially because his daughter starts hitting the man’s upper arm some more, looking deeply shocked from him, to her mom and back at Travis again.
“Do not even start blaming me for that. Every time I have food laying around he eats it. That’s not on me.”
Andrea starts laughing, and so does Scott. Travis just rolls his eyes playing pretend, sips one last time on his wine glass before looking at the blonde woman in the black top sitting next to him, giving him a playful side eye. She looks absolutely gorgeous as always, but there’s something in her eyes that gives her away. She’s exhausted. Deeply exhausted and tired, but he knows she won’t ever admit to it.
Without countering her some more, Travis just places his wine glasses in front of him, then wanders with his right hand to her head. He starts gently caressing her hair, wandering down to her neck then, where his thumbs draw some soft and slow circles. He can see her eyes getting smaller and her smile getting softer. His touch helps her let her guard down slowly. But she’s not the only one sitting around this table smiling quietly. Both of her parents witness his gentle gesture silently, a smile on both their faces, unsure if they’ve ever seen their daughter look as loved and taken care of as she does right now.
“You had three hours of sleep last night. How are you even still upright?”
She giggles, his hand now leaving her neck and reaching for her cold left hand.
“Jetlag and being tired is a choice.”
Andrea starts laughing. She knows just as much as Travis that this is the most ridiculous saying her daughter comes up with whenever she’s urged to slow down a little.
“Mhm. Sure.” he just says laughingly, knowing damn well that there’s no arguing with her tonight. Within less than two seconds, she gets up, starts cleaning the dinner table.
“How about you start picking a movie and we do the dishes.” Andrea now takes initiative but before she can even finish her sentence, Taylor shakes her head and makes sure to grab the used plates quicker than her mother can.
“Absolutely not. Trav will go pick a movie with you guys, I’m gonna quickly clean up and feed the cats and join you then.”
“I can feed the cats, babe.” the man who just got up right next to her tries once more but she shakes her head.
“No, please pick a movie with mom and dad.” She asks him with a serious look on her face and he sighs, just shakes his head in disbelief, knowing damn well that he’s got to let her be her obsessive self tonight.
“Alright guys, what do you want to watch?”
_________
“Why is it so quiet in here…”
“Because we are waiting for you, honey.” Scott says from the living room couch, looking at Taylor who stands in the now clean and shiny kitchen preparing the bowls for her cats.
“No, just start the movie already. I’ll be there in a second.” she says, really doesn’t want them to have to wait any longer. After all, it’s past nine already now. The view onto her little backyard is pitch black, and she knows her parents are still jet lagged, too.
“Absolutely not.” Travis says from the very right couch on which he sits, giving her that look she loves so much. With the remote control in his hand, as comfortable as he can be, he smiles at her, looking right into her eyes somehow even though this massive living room is dividing them.
“You can’t miss the beginning. It’s the most important part of this movie.”
“Alright, alright, give me one second.” she says, places the bowls in front of the three impatient cats waiting for their dinner, and washes her hands with her favorite lavender soap in the big kitchen sink one last time.
“Do you guys have drinks? Do you need any snacks, or ice cream? Trav, do we still have the…”
“We have everything, honey. Now enough with all this madness. Sit down on your ass. Now!” Andrea says in a new tone, which Travis hadn’t experienced before. It makes him smile though. Suddenly, Taylor just nods, turns off the lights in the kitchen and finally, after what felt like an eternity, makes her way up to her family lounging in the living room. Travis smiles at the beauty in front of him, immediately opens his arms for her to sit down next to him.
“Come on, babe. Lay down.” he just mumbles, gets comfortable on the big couch himself, a pillow in his neck, and enjoys to feel Taylor cuddle up to him, becoming the little spoon to be able to face the big flat screen.
“Alright, are we ready?”
“Yes.” Both Scott and Andrea answer annoyed from their seats and it makes Taylor laugh. Travis hits the play button and the movie starts. His right hand securely around Taylor’s small body frame, slowly wandering onto her stomach. She places her hand on top of his, and with his head on the pillow behind him, he leans over to her once, breathing in her incredible smelling hair, and steals her neck one last kiss. She moves a bit more, trying to get comfortable, and he can feel how fast her heart beats. He knew it. She’s been running around all day, not even allowing herself a single moment of rest. She’s rattled up, and her inability to just lay still in his arms is proof enough. Sometimes, he feels like whenever she’s not playing a show she needs to run around all day to compensate for her lack of adrenaline rush. It’s not good for her though. It’s not good to be in a constant state of stress.
The movie has just started and he catches himself every so often just staring at her instead. Her silhouette in the darkness, lid up by nothing but the flickering tv light. She’s the most beautiful person he knows. Not a single ounce of badness about her. It terrifies him sometimes, how deeply he loves her. How pure his feelings really are for her. His thoughts manifest themselves once more as she starts laughing about a scene on tv and he realizes that he was way too distracted to follow the storyline until now.
A few moments later, Travis can finally feel her become more and more still in his arms. Her hand still firmly over his, her thumb drawing the ever same slow circles on the back of his hand. She’s slowly coming down from her day. And half an hour later, he knows she’s fighting sleep. Whilst both of her parents are still awake watching and enjoying the movie he chose, the blonde woman in his arms has grown unusually quiet. It takes another five minutes and he feels her spasm once. She’s fighting sleep when really, she shouldn’t. Travis slowly lets go of her stomach, moves his big hand over her cold and naked upper arm instead. Nothing but the tv light lighting up her sleepy face.
“Baby?”
“Mhm?” she answers in her half sleeping state, of course pretending to be fully awake.
“Can you reach for the blanket next to you?”
She slowly sits up, grabs the blanket and just hands it to him, too tired to fully recognize the fact that she’s freezing in her top, and that she needs the blanket more than he does. She just lays down again, her head this time getting comfortable on his upper arm. He opens up the soft blanket over her, feels Taylor finally giving in. With her eyes half closed and the same tired disoriented look on her face whenever she wakes up at night to go to the bathroom, Taylor turns around, signaling him to open his arms for her some more. She’s now fully turned away from the tv, her sleepy face facing his chest. He protectively wraps the blanket around her cold torso, feels her little hand placed on his chest over his sweater. With her wrapped in his arms, and the blanket, Travis looks down at her closing her eyes, finally allowing herself to fall asleep. He leans down to kiss her forehead once, his arm around her, stroking her back up and down.
“Sorry, I’m just..”
He doesn’t know whether her mumbles are an apology to him or her parents about the fact that she falls asleep twenty minutes into the movie. But he’s having none of it.
“Shh. I’ll tell you later what happened.” he whispers, and she doesn’t even nod. Instead, he can watch her breathing get slower and slower and steadier and steadier. It takes less than a minute and she’s fully asleep in his arms. A little sigh escapes her throat. Her toes between his legs move once. In his arms, she slowly lets go. And Travis can now face the TV again, and actually enjoy the movie knowing that the woman in his arms is finally getting some well deserved rest. But his gentleness doesn’t remain unnoticed. Both Scott and Andrea watch Taylor drift off in his big arms, his left hand securely on her head, his right one around her waist, stroking her back over the blanket up and down every so often. Not one of the two can recall a time, in which they’ve witnessed their daughter more effortlessly safe, feeling loved and able to be herself more than in this moment.
#this is is ridiculous#homebodies#taylor swift fanfiction#taylor swift#fanfiction#fanfic#ttpd#writing#travis kelce#cozy#fluff#fluff on end lol#tayvis
132 notes
·
View notes
Text
déjà vu
déjà vu : a french term that translates to "already seen." It is a phenomenon where an individual feels a strong sense of familiarity or recognition with a current situation.
bnha chap. 362 n 403 spoilers ! childhood friends to lovers can you tell i'm inlove with this trope oooorrr…, angsty?? bittersweet hurt/comfort ?? fem reader, reader's height isn't specified but is shorter than katsuki's, reader gets a bit insecure but katsuki fixes that up rq, reader is very mushy n inlove with katsuki, (but aren't we all) katsuki loves reader very much in return
in his final moments, katsuki thinks of you.
he thinks about primary school. you’re both ten, double digits. foolishly believing you were all grown up. katsuki’s fingers are white and dry from cleaning up the chalkboard, since you guys were tasked for clean up duty today.
or at least, you were. but your classmate suddenly vanished without a word and katsuki, as nice and helpful as he was (to you, at least) decided to stay behind to help you, don’t ask him where your cleaning buddy went, he has absolutely no idea and has absolutely nothing to do with it. at all.
“ y’know—” he starts, soaking the soggy sponge into the water bucket next to him, then squeezing it out. “when we’re done with this stupid school stuff, i’ll go pro.” he states, slapping the sponge onto the board, creating a loud splat noise.
you, having heard this time and time before, simply look at him and smile, placing your classmates chairs on top of their desks row by row “mhm, i know !” you grin “ 'n you’ll be number one, right ?” you’re standing in between two desks, hands playing with your uniform skirt behind your back.
“hell yeah i will !” katsuki boasts, smirking. he scrubs at the board a little more vigorously.
“bad word !” you tease, giggling as you point at him “ 'm gonna tell miss you said a cuss word again !”
he huffs, turning around to scrunch his nose up and stick his tongue out at you, you stick yours out back playfully. “as if i care ! yer too much of a wuss to snitch on me anyways.”
“no I’m not, i’ll do it right now !” katsuki rolls his red eyes at you, returning to his task and wiping the board down in a zig zag motion. “ i don’t care” he reiterates.
you pout at his back and just then get an idea you’re sure will piss him off, a cat like grin pulls at your lips.
“okaaayy … then i’ll just tell your mom !” you sing, bursting into giggles when he swiftly turns around and waves the wet sponge in your direction. he’s too far to reach you but you dodge anyway, just to mess with him.
“no you won’t.”
“yeah, i will !” you counter, blowing a raspberry at him. you both break out into a fit of giggles when he aggressively dips the sponge into the water and flicks the droplets at you once more, before he decides to close the distance and chase you around your cramped little classroom growling and screaming, threatening you with the dirty sponge.
you’re squealing and giggling and laughing, trying to fend him off with a broom and even then, at ten. then when the concept of cherishing memories of the time you spend together wasn’t even an afterthought in his mind, katsuki remembers wishing he could stay with you like this forever.
when you’re both out of breath the classroom is just as messy—if not messier than it usually is. you give eachother a look then belly laugh some more.
you’re picking up chairs again and katsuki’s helping you, so it goes even faster. you don’t wanna go home because you won’t be seeing him anymore, but you have to admit your eager to finish and leave school.
katsuki’s back is to you on the second row and he can’t see you looking at him from the back row, he decides it’s time he says what he wanted to say before you got distracted. he clutches the legs of the chair he’s holding a little tighter.
“hey,” his voice comes suddenly in the quiet, it surprises you a little, you hum in response “ 'm really gonna go pro when we’re done with school, y’know.” he insisted.
you tilt your head wearily, looking at him with his back still turned to you. “yeah, i know.” you respond “you said that already.” you’re confused, he can’t hear the scrapping noise of the wooden chairs anymore, it’s annoyingly too quiet now.
“ you’re coming with me” he pauses, turning to you a little so you catch a peak of his quickly reddening face. it sounds like a statement but even then you know better. you don’t miss a beat, nodding furiously “uhuh, always !” his cheeks flare up more as he turns fully towards you. he walks over until the only thing separating you is the desk in between. he turns his back to you again to lean against the desk seperating you both.
“you’ll be with me, and we’ll be pro's together” he maintained. he feels his chest tighten when you offer him more of your pretty bright smiles and nods, you smile at him the way he knows you don’t with the other boys in class who are stupid enough to think they deserve even a second of your time and it makes him feel a little bit more confident as he speaks more clearly “a-and I’ll be number one, and you’ll be number two. but not behind me, with me, yknow ?” he feels stupid for having to explain himself but you don’t mind, as long as you can stay with katsuki you don’t mind which number you are. you move across the table so you can stand next to him. you nod and he let's out a little huff and a smile starts pulling at his mouth.
"a-and" he gulps " 'n then—i'll marry you."
it's quiet for just moment.
and then you register what he said and feel your entire body heat up.
"w-wha ?! " you sputter "marry me ?!" your wide eyes startle him as he glances at you but refuses to look over again. he's red to the tips of his ears, pulling at the bottom of his now longer tucked in shirt. despite the growing lump in his throat, he nods.
"mhm," he kicks at an eraser laying on the floor, the only noise heard coming from it hitting a wall a little further. you don't see where, you're still looking at him. " my ma says i can't do it now, since it's...illegal, or something." he scoffs dissaprovingly "b-but..when 'm older," he sucks in a breath, then suddenly turns to you causing you to sit up straighter in suprise, you feel your hands gripping the desk tighter and tighter as your face feels more and more on fire. "when i'm older—i'll do it. that way, none of those other losers will look at you."
he looks way more flustered than you but he's sitting up straight still, eyes determined and unwavering and it knocks the wind out of you, because for as long as you can remember katsuki's been the coolest.
there's absolutely no doubt in your mind he's embarrassed. if his face wasn't a dead give away, his posture and demeanor give it away just as much. you've known him for a long time now, since you were 6 years old and he had walked up to you. little newbie you, who had transferred in the middle of the school year and with nobody to play with. he was there, head held high with his friends in tow behind him, demanding to know what your quirk was and the rest was history.
katsuki persists even when he knows the odds are low, he perseveres and keeps kicking and punching and blowing up everything in his path where anyone else would've given up while they had the chance. like when he fought against those 4th graders while you were all still only in 2nd grade. his face was all messed up and he had a nosebleed, but he ended up winning. because he swore he would keep winning.
'cus that's what heroes do.'
katsuki fights and keeps fighting even if you think the odds are low, because he doesn't. to him, there's absolutely no doubt in his mind he'd win. even here, when he isn't fighting, instead confessing to you. he's red-faced, embarrassed out of his mind and nervous, but his shoulders are squared and there's no doubt in his eyes after he had just told you he would marry you. when he thought about being older, he thought about you being there with him.
and even after what you'd heard all you can think is that your katsuki is so cool.
so with a bright smile, bright eyes and the summer sun slowly setting in your empty little cramped classroom, you give him your response.
"mhm ! "
katsuki thinks about his last year of middle school.
today's the last day of your middle school life before you go off to high school and katsuki couldn't be happier to leave this shitty school. he's 15 now. older, but besides his features, remained the same (to you, at least) .
it's your last day and you finish it off with cleaning duty, ironically, and he remembers that day back in elementary. then proceeds to shake it off, hoping to shake off the embarrassing memories. but it doesn't seem to work because it feels like the universe is seriously fucking with him.
you're the one tasked with cleaning duty again and with your cleaning buddy, yet again, being nowhere to be found. katsuki yet again staying behind to help you out. and again, katsuki has absolutely no idea where your buddy went and has absolutely nothing to do with it. at all.
it shouldn't be anything new, he stays and helps, albeit begrudingly, every time you have cleaning duty. but it feels different somehow. katsuki chalks it up to it being the end of the year.
the only difference from last time is you actually finish in record time. usually, that would've been great news, less time at school and even more free time katsuki can spend with you.
but you're quiet today.
you usually chat his ear off, and just because it's you, he chat's right back. wether you're messing around teasing each other or just talking about your day at school or who's house you're staying over at for the afternoon and which movie you're watching, you're always talking about something. it's comforting where he'd usually think it to be annoying with anyone else. but they aren't you.
and he doesn't like it.
when you finish you reach for your bag sitting neatly on top of your desk but katsuki stops you, grabbing your wrist. the feel of your soft skin has him involentarily flushing lightly, he ignores it in favor of squeezing your wrist when you don't immediately look back at him.
"what's up with you ?" he questioned gruffly. it comes out harsh, but that's not what you hear. you've known katsuki for a long time, after all. he's worried, you can tell. his words are rough around the edges but his eyes are soft, filled with care and the soft stroke of his thumb against you skin sends slight shivers down your spine when you turn to look at him shyly.
you open your mouth to deny him, but he can practically read your mind "don't give me that 'nothinngg' bullshit" your nose scrunches at the way his voice raises in pitch as he crudely mimicks you and a little smirk pulls at his face for only a moment before it falls again " don't go lyin' to me. know i hate that shit" he rasped.
you sigh, he's known you just as long as you'd known him after all.
you lean against your desk and he copies you, your shoulders brushing as he scoots himself a little closer to you. you jump up a little to sit on your desk, you're the same height as him like this. he scoots a little closer and turns to look at you, placing his hands on your desk to lean on it, fingers inches away from yours.
"i just—" you faltered "this our last day of school. when the day is over we'll be high schoolers." you stated. katsuki scoffs jokingly and leans a bit closer to you "what ? you tellin' me youre gonna miss this dump ? last i heard, you were the first one who wanted to leave so you wouldn't have to deal with mr. nakamura anymore." he jests, trying to lighten the mood as best he could, the worry in his eyes still shining bright. a smile pulls at the corner of his lips when you huff out a little giggle.
"yeah well, i won't be missing mr. nakamura. or his stupid tests" you pretend to shiver as you cringe "at all." katsuki let's out a cute chuckle. he's like a magnet, you feel yourself scooting closer to where he's leaning next to you, like you're being pulled closer to him, you don't mind. you never mind being close to katsuki.
"but..?" he coaxed, knowing that wasn't all you wanted to say.
"but.." you continue "but i'll miss this, yknow ? like—the school itself wasn't..the best" katsuki scoffs in response but doesn't interrupt "the teachers weren't either. but—i dunno—this. being here." you confess, you stare down at your shoes as you kicks your legs aimlessly into the air " we've spent such a long time here, and now we're leaving. we went from being the youngest—to the oldest, to going back to being the youngest again, and that in itself isn't the problem.."
"then what is ?" he raises a brow.
"we're gonna be in a completely different school, with completely different people—"
"but we'll be together." he interrupts "you said you wanted to go to ua too" you said you were gonna stay with me is what he wants to say, but it's childish and that wouldn't be fair to you.
"of course, i still do !" you reassure "but—there'll be tons of new, strong, cool people at ua.."
"maybe even stronger and cooler than me.." you trail off. you don't need to say more for katsuki to understand what you mean and it pissed him off.
"shut up." he growls.
"katsuki—"
"no. shut the fuck up." he's right in front of you before you can blink. you reflexively part your legs and he takes the opportunity to stand even closer to you, right in your space. you feels your cheeks warm at the proximity, your close enough to see it's apparently affecting him too, his cheeks turning a cute pink but as stubborn as your katsuki is he doesn't budge. as usual.
you don't exactly know what you and katsuki are. you know you like him, you know you have for a long time. and you'd like to believe he likes you too. he doesn't act the way he does with you the way he does with his other friends (or his lackeys as he calls them, you're the only one he openly calls his friend) but he doesn't really have anyone close to him besides you, so you don't know if he'd act this way with someone else.
the thought leaves a nasty taste in your mouth, so you decide to focus on something else. something else being katsuki, of course, he's all up in your space. his gaze not allowing you to look or even think about anything else but him.
"who i meet at ua doesn't fuckin' matter, they'll all be weaksauce compared to me anyway" he states smugly, causing you to huff out a laugh again " i don't care if theyre cool, or strong" his nose scrunches up in disgust as he quips venomously "i don't care about any of that—and i don't hang out with you because of that either—i fuckin' care about you because you're you."
your heart stutters.
" what, you think i hang out witcha because of superficial shit like that ? you mockin' me or something ?"
"no, no course not !" you insist, shaking your head.
" exactly, so don't..." he huffs, looking away from you towards the ground, there's a random eraser lying on the ground and he kicks it "don't go saying dumb shit like that."
"i don't waste my time with just anyone, 's why i'm wastin' it with your ass" he jokes, chuckling when you squeeze his nose in response. supressing a smile you whine at him when he leans forward to bite yours.
"katsuki, you're gross !" you giggle as you push at his face, he smiles lightly at the sound of your laughter, one of his favorite sounds. "ya started it." he disputes weakly, his smile turning into a smirk when you groan and then it falls again as he looks at you seriously.
" but seriously" he starts "i mean it, y'know. don't just say shit to say it"
"i know" you smile. he grunts in acknowledgement then continues.
"i don't care about how cool those future ua asshats are gonna be. you're different, you're not like that—i mean—that's not what i look at—what i see with you" he fumbles around for his words and groans, slamming his forehead against your shoulder. you're used to katsuki being physical, but that was usually when he was being annoying, pinching and prodding and biting at you. he's rarely ever this affectionate. it's different, but nice..really nice, so you savor it while you can. your fingers twitch a little closer to his and you decide to take a leap of faith, placing your hands ontop of his. he flinches and you're about to pull back when he grips your hands, intertwining his fingers with yours. you feel him huff into your uniform. his hair tickles as he shuffles his head deeper inside your shoulder.
"you're not like those other losers, y'not like anyone" he explains "you're—when you're around it's like you're glowing. you're bright and when you talk, everyone sorta—gets pulled towards you like you're some typa magnet" his hands get warmer against yours as he speaks. you're surprised that he sees you this way, when that's practically the same way you see him.
" you pull people in so easily, and it pisses me off that you don't realise it. you are strong, and cool and everything else but that's not all you are. s'not all i care about."
"you're annoying. and whiney. extremely annoying, actually" he chuckles, and you pull at his ear "but—" he continues "but you're..fun to be around or whatever, wouldn't be around you otherwise. you're too fuckin' nice and your taste in music isn't bad" katsuki grumbles.
he wants to say more, so much more. he wants to say he thinks the way you immerse yourself when you're watching a movie together is adorable. the way you hold yourself back from commenting during the movie so as not to be annoying, even thought he could listen to you naming street signs and never get bored. the way your eyes light up when you get your grade back for a test you had studied your ass off for, when you come to him showing off your hard work it makes him want to hold you and never let go. he wants to say the way you're not scared to banter and bicker with him, the way your nose scrunches up when you try to hold in your laughter when he passes you a crudely drawn picture of your homeroom teacher, the way you smile at him whenever you see him, whenever he shares his umbrella or your lunches even though you have your own and he has his, makes him want to kiss you silly.
he wants to say all this and more, but he knows the words won't come out right, they never do. but somehow you understand and it's another thing he admires—that he loves about you.
"i...didn't know you felt that way" is all you can quietly muster up. you're cute, he feels you squeezing his hands a little tighter " yeah you didn't, cus i didn't tell you" he ribbed. you huff out a 'dont be annoying" gruffly and he chuckles. the asshole.
your asshole, though, your heart decides.
you're both quiet, everything is quiet and you're happy, reassured. you'd be happy if this is where the conversation ended but katsuki never fails to surprise you today it seemed.
" 'sides" he squeezes your hands tighter "i promised you i'd marry you didn't i ? how can i do that if i'm not around you, hah ?"
you're heart skips approximately three beats at the memory of his promise and you lean back to look at his fully red cheeks and his fleeing eyes.
"you still remember that ?" you ask incredulously. he rolls his eyes but you can tell it's simply to save face as he responds " of course i do. wasn't that long ago."
"but—we were like—ten when that happened. "
"so ?" he responds simply "doesn't change nothin'. i told you, i don't say shit to just say it."
you're flustered and so utterly confused, but there's a happy feeling bubbling in your stomach at his words " but we're not even dating !"
"we're not ?" of course not , he knows he hadn't properly asked you to be his girlfriend. but he figured if he talked about the memory that seemed to refuse being pushed aside, he could casually sneak by what he was too embarrassed to ask. but of course, you never make it easy for him.
"no, we aren't" you pout, crossing your arms at him. he grumbles, reaching to pull your arms away from your chest but you're stubborn, he was right about you being extremely annoying. "cut that out," he hissed.
"mm-mm ! " you shake your head "you can't just decide we're together. i didn't even know you liked me like that.." you trail off shyly. katsuki looks utterly baffled "hah?! whaddya mean you didn't know ? you don't see me actin' like this with anyone else do you ?"
"that's cus you're mean to everyone else !" you choked out, puffing your cheeks out at him.
"well yeah ! but—that's the thing, i'm not mean to you !" he defends, faltering when you raise a brow at him "fuck off, m'not that mean ! i'm just messing with you !" he rebutted. you simply roll your eyes at him and after a moment he sighs.
"fine" he concedes "i should've told you i liked you, i don't just decide that i want you to be my girlfriend when it's convenient for me or something" he keeps quiet about how you could of also told him you liked him as well for now, for fear of you getting moody at him again.
you still look away from him and he groans "hey c'mon, look at me." he utters sincerely. after a minute, you offer him a glance and he takes his opportunity, turning your face towards him, holding back a grin when he feels how warm your cheeks are.
"do you...wanna be my girlfriend ?" he stammers, looking at you with his red cheeks and bashful red eyes, and yet his gaze doesn't falter.
so cool.
it's your last day of middle school, your last day before you go off to a different school with different people. but with your katsuki by your side, and that's all that matters to you.
and with a bright smile, bright eyes and the summer sun slowly setting in your empty classroom, you give him your response by pressing your lips to his softly.
katsuki thinks about the night before today, when you'd knocked at his door in the dead of night.
usually, on any other day, he'd have scolded you for being up so late but would've ended up letting you in anyway. but lately, things hadn't been as they had been before..everything happened. and he could tell you were upset, so he simply let you in without a word.
you take the liberty of laying down in his bed like you used to back at his house and back at the dorms. he doesn't mind. it feels familiar, comforting.
he lies down next to you and you immediately latch onto him, seeking his warmth. with your head in his chest, you hold onto him tightly, like he'll dissapear if you don't. he clings to you just as tightly.
"what's up with you ?" he mumbles sleepily, softer than when he would've if he were more awake, but still focusing all of his attention onto you.
he feels you shake against his chest "jus' wanted to be wif you" he hears you mumbles. he presses his lips to the top of your head, pressing a sweet little kiss onto it as you breathe "you know that's bullshit." he reprimands, he feels you squeeze him tighter. he squeezes your waist twice, his warm hands running up and down your sides "c'mon, talk to me" he prodded
you look up at him and he looks down at you. your eyes are glossy, he can tell even in the dark and he's sure you were crying a little. his theory is confirmed when he hears you let out a little sniffle, his heart breaks at the sound. his heart breaks even more when you squeeze your eyes shut, gripping at the front of his shirt.
"baby," he pleads softly, pressing soft kisses to your forehead, mouth and cheeks when you whine. "tell me what's bothering you, yeah ?"
"m'just—you're gonna be fighting tomorrow, and we all are and i know you're strong but you'll be in the front lines against him" you blubbered, you hiccup as tears roll down your cheeks " and i know you're strong. but katsu, i can't—" you gasp. he shushes you softly, pressing kiss after kiss to your lips. he knows what you're gonna say, he knows you're worried. he's known you for so long after all.
he hated himself the day he woke up after the first war. when he woke up to you crying at his side, with you yourself still being injured. he hates how much he worried you that day and he knows that the fleeting glances you give him whenever you have a briefing with the pro's, the way you stare off at nothing whenever you catch a glimpse of his scars, are all out of worry for him. he did the same after he had found out you had also been heavily injured during the brawl, so he can't say he wouldn't do the same way.
"baby, babe—look at me" he intones softly, grabbing onto your tear stained cheeks to get you to look at him, he's close so he's sure you can see him despite the darkness. he can't help pressing another kiss to your lips " nothing's gonna happen, okay ?" he reassures, rubbing your cheek softly.
"i can't see you like that again, katsuki. i just can't" you whimper, leaning into his hand.
"you won't, promise you won't." he vows. he knows you're even more worried because you'll both be in different areas and he hates he won't be able to keep his eye on you. but you're strong and cool and everything else, so he trusts you'll be okay "i need you to trust me"
"i do" you sniffle, taking a deep breath "i do trust you, but i just—don't wanna see you get hurt, kacchan"
he sighs softly, staring at you lovingly as he pulls you towards his chest. you nuzzle against him and he presses his mouth to the side of your head. "i can't promise i won't be gettin' hurt, s'gonna happen on the job" he says carefully, rubbing your back "but i promise i'll always come back to you. no matter how fucked up i get, i'll win. for you." he declares, feeling you shove your head deeper against his shoulder.
you remember how despite getting extremely injured by shigaraki, he recovered in record time. it seemed nothing could stop your boyfriend from proving to the world he was the best. because katsuki fights and keeps fighting even if you think the odds are low, because he doesn't. because to him, there's absolutely no doubt in his mind he'll win.
and despite the worry and the fear gnawing at you, you can't help but think your katsuki is so fucking cool.
so you nod against his shoulder and he feels the collar of his shirt grow wet, but he doesn't mind as your grip on him loosens lightly until you can feel yourself falling asleep.
before you fall though, you hear katsuki speak.
"besides, i promised you i'd marry you didn't i ?"
he feels you smile into his neck, and you give him your response by happily nodding into his shoulder with a hum.
in his final moments, katsuki thinks of you.
he thinks of the promises he's made. he thinks of the promise he made to his old hag to not cause you, such a sweet girl, too much trouble. he remembers the promise he made to his old man to stay safe while he went out on patrol and when he'd fight against shigaraki for the second time. he remembers the promise he made to himself to get his limited edition all might card signed one day. and he remembers the promise he'd made when he said he'd always, always come back to you.
and he remembers the promise he'd made to marry you. the promise that you both would be together and none of the other losers would look at you.
so when he awakens, katsuki doesn't bother to ask why or how.
he simply fights and keeps fighting, so he can win, no matter how fucked up he gets.
and always, always come back to you.
#eeeeeeee this ones a lil long#idk how to feel i like it but idkkkkk#i love my boyfriend tho i know that much#idrk what to do with that ending lol#but i think it came out okay !#this ended up being rlly long i got in my feels a little LMFAOO#hope yall enjoy tho !!#bakugou katsuki x reader#bakugo fluff#bakugou imagine#katsuki bakugou x reader#bakugou katsuki#bakugou x reader#katsuki x reader#katsuki bakugo x reader#bakugou katuski x reader#bakugou fluff#bakugou x you#bakugou x y/n#bakugo x reader#katsuki bakugo fluff#bakugou drabble#kacchan#katsuki x y/n#katsuki x you
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
promise (to be holy)
rafayel; 1,745 words; fluff, fluff w/out plot, established relationship, kinda?spoilers for raf's lvl 55 affection story, no "y/n", genderless!reader, very suggestive but not actually nsfw
summary: oh, didn't you know? promises are sacred things beneath the ocean...
a/n: @syneilesis thank u for being my lad screaming buddy; this one's for you and for raf the little slut
The ocean has always been a certain kind of poetry, hasn’t it? You smile to yourself as you blink yourself awake and the world is the size of your sunlit bedroom. Rafayel’s breaths are even, his lashes so dark and long they remind you of a certain kind of midnight — the kind that catches starlight in her hair and has magic in her fingertips.
The kind of midnight that inspires wonder.
“If you really are that enamored with me… I can paint you a portrait. It’ll last longer.”
You blush, even as Rafayel’s eyes flicker open to catch yours, his lips pulled into a teasing, sleep-heavy smile.
“I — I wasn’t staring. I just woke up too and you were blocking my sun.”
You try to turn away, but Rafayel is faster, his arm looping around your middle to pin you to him, his breath warm as it kisses the skin of your bare shoulder. He cocks his head, still blinking the sleep from his eyes.
“Oh? Is that so?” he asks, shifting so that your eyes are level. The morning light paints his outline in liquid gold, and from here, the shade of his eyes makes you think of all the secrets the sea might keep from the sky.
“Mhm,” you nod, licking your lips, and watching with some satisfaction, as his eyes flick down to trace the movement. His skin is warm and his fingers soft as they press into the bend of your waist to pull you closer.
“Liar,” he says — whispers, before he dips down to graze his lips against yours.
You sigh against him, grinning as you curl your fingers into his hair and tug. The way he gasps makes a certain, unnamable hunger surge within you, pushing you forward till you’re pressing him back into the bed, your thighs on either side of his hips.
“Y-you — ngh —” Rafayel hisses as he tips his head back, his teeth digging into his bottom lip, his fingers inadvertently into your skin. You cock your head — and perhaps it’s the tantalizing line of his neck as he leans back, straining beneath you, or perhaps it’s just the morning light, falling like a lover’s caress across the smooth of his skin, the soft wave of his hair as it splays across the pillow — dark against light.
“Now… who’re you calling a liar?” you ask, flattening your palm slowly against his chest, reveling in the way his stomach tenses beneath you, how his breaths seem to quicken as you lean down and down and down.
“Y-you —” he almost musters up a glare as he hisses, “bullying the weak…” he murmurs as he tries to turn away. You twist his face back towards you with a finger beneath his chin and watch as his eyes go wide.
“Oh? You think this is bullying? But… I haven’t even gotten started yet…” you don’t miss the way his pupils dilate, the way his entire body goes rigid and then soft.
“I — you — I’m not accustomed to the ways of you humans! T-to a Lemurian like me… this is — this is —” The words die on his lips as you lean down to skim your lips along the bend of his neck, dropping phantom kisses on the long line of his collarbone, your fingers still holding his head in place.
“Hm?” you hum, grinning as he arches up into your touch, his fingers digging crescent-moon grooves into your hips and thighs, “this is… what, exactly?”
Rafayel makes a broken, keening noise at the back of his throat as you pull away, a fox-fire smile twisting your lips. You blink down at him, feigning innocence.
“Didn’t you say you were going to tell me all about Lemurian traditions? Why not start now?”
His eyes narrow as he forces himself to look away from you. You can almost feel the heat radiating off him in waves, burning from the tips of his ears all the way to the roots of his hair.
“I — you —” his lashes flutter and you can’t help your own laughter as it bubbles from you.
“C’mon, let’s get up — didn’t you want to go to the paint shop today — oh!”
You make to pull away, swinging your legs off him, but the world tilts as a pair of hands pull you back, and a moment later, you’re being pressed into an ocean of tangled sheets and pillows, Rafayel’s face hovering above yours, his expression caught between annoyance and ill-concealed desire.
“You shouldn’t start something you can’t finish,” he cocks his head, lips drawn into a delightful pout as you try to tug your hand away. He huffs as he pins you down harder, the redness in his cheeks deepening even as he leans in.
“Who said I was starting anything?” you ask, batting your lashes up at him even as he scoffs.
“Words aren’t the only way to make promises, y’know,” he says, and you feel his grip on you loosen. But there’s a tantalizing lilt to his voice that holds you in place, a dark, faraway look in his eyes as he leans back slightly, his gaze grazing down the shape of you, splayed out beneath him.
“Yeah? Then… what’s another way of making a promise?” you ask, propping yourself up on your elbows as he shifts back to allow you more space. You shift and the pair of you find yourself sitting face to face, the sheets rumpled around you like a white-sand beach, the remnants of the night before scattered in the folds like footsteps in the sand.
He looks at you before his eyes cast downwards. Your fingertips itch toward him and you reach out, brushing aside a stray strand of hair. Quick as a flicker, he catches your hand, pressing his cheek to your palm, eyes falling shut as he sighs.
“There’s… lots of ways to make a promise…” he says, murmuring it against your skin as he turns his face to press a kiss to the delicate skin of your wrist. You shiver as heat chases up your arm, tingling through your body as you swallow.
You sit there, frozen, as he leans in, slow and slow and slow — till you can feel the heat of his breath on your lips.
“You see… words are a little harder when you’re underwater, so sometimes we make promises by touching palms —” he turns his hand around yours till your fingers lace, “sometimes… we brush cheeks…” he grins as he leans in further, his cheek brushing by yours.
“And sometimes…” he pulls back ever so slightly, till you feel your own breath catch in your chest. His voice is deep and warm and soft and sweet — tugging you in as the moon on the tide, and you can’t help but wonder at the mysterious forces that might’ve pulled you towards one another in the beginning.
Chance, or perhaps something much less nebulous — like gravity.
Your lips meet like magnets clicking into place, and it’s far from the first time you’ve kissed but somehow here, in the morning light, with the windows of the bedroom thrown open to welcome the sea, the salt hanging solid and heavy in the air, it feels like the first time. You can taste the smile on Rafayel’s lips, can feel the eager way he presses in, tongue sweeping across your lips as you gasp open for him. You feel the weight of his body as he pulls you in, pushes you down, and the gentle give and take of it all somehow rings out against the slow shushing of the rising tides.
When he finally pulls away, both of you are breathless. You wonder, briefly, dazedly, if he might’ve been able to go on kissing like that forever. Do Lemurians even need to breathe? What might it be like to kiss like that and never feel the burning ache of oxygen in your lungs? It’s a dizzying thought, and you let yourself linger on it for a second more before Rafayel’s laughter breaks your train of thought.
“What? Was it so good that you’ve gone into shock?”
You blink, shaking your head as you feel heat wash up into your cheeks.
“No! I — I was just wondering… what does a kiss promise, exactly?”
And at this, Rafayel’s cheeks darken again, but he sighs and lowers himself onto the bed next to you, a finger trailing idly along the bend of your ear.
“Well…” he says, “it depends on the kind of kiss.”
You yelp, swatting at him with a pillow as your stomach flips inside you at the implications. His laughter is bright and pure and sweet, but as you both settle down again, he shrugs, pulling you closer to nuzzle his nose against yours.
“But mostly… a kiss just promises that there’ll be another kiss.”
You smile, leaning up to graze your lips against his, “Like that?”
He lets out a soft groan before pulling you in, his lips parting yours, slow and sensuous.
“Yeah… just like that.”
“And so… if you kiss once then…” you press a finger to his lips to stop him from leaning down again, “you’ve gotta keep on kissing? Forever?”
Rafayel grins, tugging away your hand, “That’s not going to be a problem, is it?”
You purse your lips, humming as you feign contemplation. Rafayel scoffs and makes to move away again, but you pull him back, laughing.
“You can’t leave yet! We’ve got a promise to keep, remember?” and with that, you kiss him, and he softens. As he always does.
“I think…” he says, a little breathless as the pair of you sink back into the sheets, “we’ve got a bit more than one promise… but I think we can start with this one…” and he leans in to capture your lips in his, fingers drifting to the skin of your waist. And as the dawning day watches from beyond the window, the ocean shushes itself against a stretch of forgotten beach, water through sand like tangling lovers’ fingers, reaching and holding, pushing and pulling.
And for lovers like that, there will always be promises to keep, and keep, and keep.
pls come talk to me about love and deepspace oh m ygod
#love and deepspace#love and deepspace x reader#rafayel x reader#rafayel#rafayel love and deepspace#love and deepspace rafayel#qi yu#x reader#love and deepspace fanfic#love and deepspace fluff#love and deepspace x you#lad rafayel#lad rafayel x reader#lad rafayel x you#love and deepspace spoilers#ALSO INFOLD COMMISSIONED OFFICIAL FANART???? YALL THAT'S WILD IM SCREAMING CURRENTLY#i love rafayel okay#you guys YOU GUYS you guys. this game. will end me. WILL END ME. good bye#AND YES. okay i KNOW IUNDERSTAND. that raf is just like#mermaid!marius okAY I GET IT LOL#WHY DO YOU THINK I AM SUCH A SIMP#but weirdly xavier has the highest relationship rating with me in the gamE probably bc of his fucking 5 star card where ur STRADDLING HIM#but it's weird bc its hard for me to write for them... idk why LOL im trying
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Just had a thought. Figured, I'd share.
It's Eddie, Eddie Munson. You're precious, lover boy — boyfriend of just shy of a year. His arms are crossed, leaning against the counter, grinning ear to ear as his soft, hazy eyes follows you, rummaging through the cabinets.
You're looking for snacks, pilling everything that looks tasty into your arms — silence words spilling out upturned lips, rambling on about some movie. Oblivious to Eddie's admiring nature.
"Let's get married." He stated, easily.
"Okey Dokey." You shrug, none the wiser. "Under one condition, I want to get married under one of those big trees, with the hanging lights." You skip over to him, giving his nose a quick peck.
"Consider it done." His arms wrap around your waist, tugging you into his chest. Your arms twist around his neck, giggling as you nuzzle into his neck. "You're mine." Eddie whispers, placing a gentle kiss to your temple.
"Mrs. Munson." He adds, for good measure.
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x you#stranger things#eddie munson fanfic#fanfic#side note#fluff#the snacks end up on the floor#since i forgot that detail lol
760 notes
·
View notes
Text
˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱ i still like you
Gojo x gn!reader
Overview; rejecting Gojo in high school, but figuring out your feelings much later when he's become a teacher at Jujutsu High
Content; headcanons, angst with fluff/happy ending
Warnings; rejection talk, heartbroken Gojo 😭angsty romance
Note; call him SADTORU cuz he cryin' over u
REJECTING Gojo Satoru is difficult. The man refuses to believe that you're rejecting him.
"Huh?" is his initial response. Then he laughs. "You're a good joker. Really got me there."
He is convinced for the first few months that it's an ongoing joke. He still brings you flowers as usual. He still flirts with you in the locker rooms. He still kisses your cheek as he giggles and runs off back home, like how he's done since you two were kids.
But he slowly, very slowly, realizes that you don't reciprocate his feelings. That his passion doesn't pierce the veil you have draped over your heart.
For years he still acts as usual, but more toned down. There was a time he would smile at you, then tear up when you left. He made a playlist that ended up being the heartbreak playlist. He rejected anyone who asked him out, except for an odd few who he tried with. But that was just to try and forget you, and the impression you made on him.
Now he's become a teacher, watching over Yuji and the others. A lot of time has passed. His students were told many times about the one who rejected Gojo-sensei and when you were introduced to them, Yuji even said "Oh, the one who rejected Gojo-sensei in high school lol?" ("Yuji!!" 💢Nobara smacked him)
You sat with Gojo in his office that afternoon, drinking tea. He hadn't lifted his cup, clearly something was on his mind (er, and he also didn't like tea. But he knew that you did, so he made it for you.)
"Hey, remember when you rejected me? Well, I know this is gonna sound childish, but I held onto my feelings all these years. I still like you."
You can't believe your ears for a second. He's pushing into his thirties soon, and yet he still possesses the pure and boyish feelings from his high school years.
"It feels like as I got older with you, my crush matured. Kinda like it graduated from being a crush and became..."
He trailed off, the final word on the tip of his tongue. Those bright blue eyes teared up under his silken blindfold.
"Love." he chuckled.
"Satoru..."
"Sorry, I've just been in a reminiscing mood lately. Ignore me."
"Satoru, is it too late to tell you how much I regret rejecting you?"
He stutters. The high and mighty Gojo Satoru, who always had a cocky and self-absorbed edge, stutters.
Jokingly, he lifts his blindfold and looks at you with one eye. "You jokin' with me?" he laughs nervously.
"No, I'm serious." you tell him honestly. "I was on a different plane of existence back then. As the years went by I started wishing that I said I like you back."
His heart races. It races like it used to back in his high school days. When his crush on you first developed.
#♥️ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 — 五条悟#fluff#angst#angst with a happy ending#gojo#gojo satoru#satoru gojo#gojo saturo#SADtoru lol 🤭#gojo x reader#satoru x reader#gojo fluff#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jujustu kaisen#jjk gojo#jujutsu gojo#gojou satoru x reader#jjk satoru#jujutsu kaisen satoru#gojou satoru x you#college au#gojo satoru fluff#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru x y/n
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Cat's Out of the Bag La Rue
pairing: Clarisse La Rue x reader
summary: Valentines Day rolls around, and what kind of girlfriend would Clarisse be if she didnt get you the only present you've been wanting?
a/n: i wrote like 5 fucking valentines day fics yesterday (one with natasha, one with wanda, one with clarisse, one with carol danvers, and one with katniss everdeen) yet this is the only one im posting and i kinda hate it. literally the shortest oneshot i've ever written. also, I'm literally a dog person writing about cats. what has life come to?
is this the worst thing i've ever written? yes. do i hate every other piece of written recently cuz im in writers block and haven't updated in like 3 weeks? also yes. im so done yall.
With a baseball cap covering her head, tucking her curls against her head and being the best disguise she could come up with, Clarisse’s eyes dart all around the cab. It zooms through the streets of New York, making the child of Are’s slightly concerned for her and her siblings safety as they get honked out. The man driving seems like he’s barely paying attention to the road, but in the end it doesn’t really matter as long as they get to their destination.
There are three children in the yellow car; Clarisse, her half brother Mark, and her half sister Ruby. They were the only ones who she could convince to come with her to town, past the safe bounds of camp half blood where nothing but their weapons can stop monsters from hunting and hurting them.
It’d be a lie to say Clarisse isn’t nervous, but she pushes the feeling down as she grips her spear tighter in her left hand.
This is for you. She’s going into town and risking getting in trouble for the end result of seeing her favorite smile. Your smile. Her partner of one year. It may not seem like a very long time to some people, but you guys are demigods. It’s surprising you made it through the year without being killed by some horrible, ugly monster.
The car stops and the guy counts the large amount of money Mark hands him before telling them to get out of his cab. It may have annoyed the teenagers on any other day, but it doesn’t bother them too much since today is a special day.
“Why are we here?” Ruby asks, eyes scanning the area around them as if sure something is going to jump out at them. In the blonde haired girl's defense, it’s very possible something will.
Clarisse gestures to the small building in front of them. It’s run down and in desperate need of a paint job, but it doesn’t matter. That’s not what grabs the child of Ares attention. It’s the small animals chilling in their little spots inside the store. That’s what she’s here for.
The sign above the small colorful store reads, “Mike’s Animals”. Boring name, but gets the point across. She can already see the little animal she came here for when they walk through the door, the loud bell ringing from the action of opening it but no employee comes to help them. Clarisse lets her siblings stare in awe at the other animals for a few months before shoving towards a section near the back. The kitten section. You had been showing her a website on your phone a few days ago, one with a different selection of the small animals. The website was for Mike’s Animals, but you explained that even though you’d really like a cat, pets aren’t allowed in Camp Half Blood. It’s a rule.
Well you wanna know what Clarisse says about that? Screw rules. What her person want’s, her person gets.
So if the police ever come around, asking you why Clarisse shoved a black and white kitten into her brother's coat pocket and then made a run for it while the store manager chased after them, that’s what you have to say.
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
You're laying on your bed reading a book when your girlfriend walks in, a large box covered by a piece of fabric under one arm and a bouquet of flowers in her free hand. She ignores your siblings' gazes as she walks towards your space, setting down the box with a type of gentleness nobody in camp but you gets to see and then holding out the flowers.
They’re your favorite, clearly straight out of the flower fields by the slight glow they give off. They’re wrapped in a brown type of paper with a pink bow clearly down by one of the Aphrodite kids to hold it all together.
“Hey my love.” She starts. “These are for you.” You take the plants with a large grin on your face, bringing them closer to your face to smell the amazing natural scent coming from them. Something moves inside the box she sat on your bed, making you hold in a scream as you jump closer to your girlfriend and farther away from it. “What the hell is moving in that Clarisse?!” You ask, your siblings' attention all over you guys now.
Clarisse just laughs, but she seems slightly nervous as she puts the crate in your lap. “Just look. I hope you like it.” She continues to nervously ramble as you remove the cloth from the top of the box, letting out a small gasp when you see the small animal looking back at you with wide, curious blue eyes.
Your girlfriend stares as you gently pick him up, him instantly curling into your hold with a soft pur as you hold him close to your chest. “You um…you like him?” She asks with a small smile.
“Of course I do! He’s adorable, Risse!” She lets out a relieved sigh, laying down next to you as your siblings surround the bed trying to get a look at the animal. “You know Chiron will never let you keep that right?” One of your brothers asks with a laugh, and you frown as you look at your girlfriend.
She thinks about it for a moment before she says, “We’ll just hide him. He can lounge around the cabin while you’re gone, and you guys can hide him somewhere during cabin checks. Chiron will never know.”
Your siblings eventually leave you alone, going back to their acticicus as your two favorite beings cuddle up to you. Clarisse cuddles up next to your side, and the kitten on your stomach. “I really like you Oreo.” you whisper to the animal, making your girlfriend laugh. “Oreo? That’s the most original thing you could think of right?”
“Okay if you're so great at naming things, what should we name him?”
She goes quiet for a few seconds before mumbling in defeat, “I like Oreo.”
You guys enjoy the silence that surrounds just you guys as you pet Oreo, but then a small laugh comes from you when Clarisse gently grabs the cat and pulls him off your chest so she can lay her head there. “He’s been here for half an hour and you're already jealous?” “He was getting way too touchy. Mine.” She teases and then fakes an annoyed groan when he crawls onto her back and lays down, stretching himself out just to prove a point.
“Will you be my Valentine, my love?” She asks as she places her chin on your chest to look up at you. There's a certain softness in her eyes that you and only you get to see. In fact, it’s very, very rare you ever see the side everyone else talks about when they talk about Clarisse towards you. “You guys just don’t know her like I do.” You tell them. Not like they believe you, half of the camp still believing you somehow put a spell on her.
“Only if you’ll be mine.” You whisper back as if it’s a secret.
“Oh…this is awkward. I already agreed to be like ten other girls date.” Her voice is teasing as she tries and fails not to giggle.
“Is that so?”
“Mhm.”
“Hm.” You fake being offended as you cross your arms over your chest and look away. She laughs, and the sound practically forces a smile on your face.
“I’m kidding. Only you, angel. I’m yours. Always.”
“And I’m yours, Clarisse La Rue.”
“Always?”
“And forever.”
There’s a knock on your cabin door, and you figure it’s another camper until a voice calls from the other side of the door, “Clarisse? I know you're in there. Your siblings told me where you went. Cat’s out of the bag La Rue.” Chiron says. Very terrible choice of words. She groans into your stomach, rolling off of you and successfully getting Oreo to jump off her back and onto the bed.
“Those little snitches.” She snarls as she gets up to open the door, making you instantly miss her warmth.
You place the cat under your sweater, giggling and then shoving his face back under when he crawls to put his head through the neck hole. Once she knows he’s covered, Clarisse opens the door. Chirons eyes fall to you, and it’s only then do you think about the fact that there is a giant Oreo shaped lump in your sweater.
All your siblings fall silent as they watch to see what’s gonna happen.
“Mac and cheese day am I right?” You try to joke with a nervous chuckle, but he doesn’t laugh. He just runs a hand over his face and then stares at you. “You know what? I don’t care. You find a way to feed him that isn’t taking resources from us, you make sure he doesn’t do any damage to the furniture, and you keep track of him at all times, you can keep him.”
You grin at him, letting the small animal out of your sweater who in turn lowly hisses at the sight of Chiron.
He groans, walking off as he mumbles something about needing a very long vacation. There's only so much of your girlfriend bending the rules to get you presents he can handle before he was bound to just accept it.
The cinatar leaves, your girlfriend flipping him off when he can’t see. He yells over his shoulder, “I know what you’re doing Clarisse! Stop it or no dessert!”
She stops flipping him off. Next to you, chocolate cake is what she lives for.
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
That night, as you sit with Clarisse at the bonfire, she listens to you complain about how much you miss Oreo. Usually, you’d be too busy roasting marshmallows and cuddling with her to think about anything else, but your girlfriend doesn’t do anything other than smile, happy she made you so happy.
“So how’d you get him anyway? You don’t have that kind of money and there’s no way Chiron gave it to you.” You say, and she freezes in her spot on a log, slightly tightening her arms that are wrapped around your waist as she avoids your eyes.
“I stole him.” Her voice is slightly quieter than usual, and she says this in the most casual tone she can muster.
“CLARISSE LA RUE!”
#clarisse la rue#clarisse x reader#clarisse la rue x reader#clarisse la rue x you#fluff#valentines day#pjo#percy jackson#percy jackon and the olympians#percy jackson series#cats#don't call my bitch the lightning theif percy!#what was that ending?#11 days late lol#valentines gifts#valentines day fic
494 notes
·
View notes
Text
I'm sure everything will be fine.
Super duper loving The Magnus Protocol. My little horror heart is so full.
Leave a tip! (Ko-Fi) | Store | Twitter
#art#the magnus protocol#tmp#rusty quill#i have faith that they will all end up perfectly happy and so very very alive#also my brain looks like the pepe silvia conspiracy board with each episode#also lol in case anyone is new or forgot#crank it and romcom is the anomaly in my interests#im a horror girlie through and through who just happens to write a lot of fluff
488 notes
·
View notes
Text
Denial
face calim- Lily James
Masterlist // Series Masterlist
[Warning- Angst, Cheating, smut but not written, crying, alcohol consumption, more crying, suicidal thoughts, people not knowing meaning of privacy, Hayden being a bitch]
Liked by Harryfan2, Y/Nfan3, Harryfan1 and 663,989 others
Y/Nupdates Y/N out with kids in London today getting ice cream.
View all comments.
Harryfan1 Milf fr
Harryfan2 Where are the kids?
Y/Nfan1 They're cropped out. Harry and Y/N didn't want their faces to be public yet.
Y/Nfan3 Is it just me, or have you guys also noticed that Harry has not seen with kids for a long time
Harryfan3 Maybe he's busy with new album and stuff
Y/Nfan1 No me too
Y/Nfan2 @/Harryfan3 he was seen with his friends at pub few days ago
Harryfan5 Aww she bought flowers for Harry
*****
They say that when someone dies, their whole life flashes before their eyes. The good, the bad, all moments move in front of their eyes like a movie, that's how you felt when you opened the door of your bedroom.
A movie of your marriage dying.
You were going through your day like normal. Your shooting had ended early, so you decided to pick up the kids from school and take them out for ice cream. They were now standing in the kitchen. You could hear their muffled giggles while you stood upstairs in front of your room like a mannequin watching your husband scramble and quickly put on clothes.
"Fuck- Baby I can explain-" Harry tried to approach you, but you couldn't look at him or react to his words. Your eyes remained trained on the woman lying on the bed, on your bed. Sheets up to her chest, her head perched up on her arm while she looked straight in your eyes without any shame or remorse. Oh no, she had a smirk on her lips.
"Kids are downstairs," You motioned with your thumb downstairs, "I- I'm going to drop them off, and then we will..." You couldn't complete the sentence. You felt like your body was on autopilot as you went downstairs and ushered the kids back to the car, your and Harry's four years old daughter asking why she couldn't see her dad and what could you say?
"He has some important work to do. Why don't you guys have a sleepover at Elliott's tonight?" You asked them, putting all your acting skills out there to hide the waver in your voice. Elliot was your ex-boyfriend and father of your eldest son Emiel.
"Yayyy" Amie clapped her hands, excited to hang out with her best friend. Meanwhile, Emiel stayed silent and looked at his mom from the passenger seat. You knew he knew something was wrong, considering he was older and much more aware of his surroundings than your little girl.
You just sighed and kept driving to Elliott's house. Soon enough, they arrived at the familiar small cottage-esc house. You got out of the car and then unstrapped Amie from the seat belt. As soon as you put her down, Amie ran towards the door and knocked on it, being too short to reach the doorbell. Emiel laughed and picked her up so she could ring the bell.
Soon enough, Elliot was opening the door with the biggest smile on his face. "If it isn't my two favorite people," He exclaimed and pulled both of them in hugs. Behind him, his Fiancé laughed at his antics, and she smiled a bit, too.
"Mom said we're having a sleepover!" Amie screamed near Em's ear, making him groan. It's then Elliot looked up, his blue eyes met her tired ones, and he knew something was wrong considering they were friends for a long time.
"Em, why don't you take her inside with Bran?" He smiled at his son, and Bran took them inside, talking about something.
"Are you okay?" Elliot immediately asked, and you shook your head. Your brain was still too jummbled to speak or to cry or to be angry or even comprehend what had happened.
"Why don't you come inside for a second and drink some water? I fear you might pass out from the way you're looking so pale." He looked at you concerned, and before you could protest, Elliott pulled you inside.
You sat on the dinner table and looked out to the garden, finding Em holding Amie in his arms, her head on his shoulder. The tiredness of school and excitement finally caughting up to her and knocked her out.
You took your phone out and clicked a picture, them being the only hope she could grasp on at the moment.
Elliot didn't ask any questions. He understood that if you wanted to talk, you would. He just stood there as emotional support staring at their kids as you drank the water.
"I might need them to be here for a few days before I sort things out. I hope you don't mind." You asked Elliott, looking up at him sadly. "You hurt me, sucre. Of course I don't mind." He shook his head and pulled you in a hug.
*****
Liked by Y/Nfan1, Annetwist, Harryfan4 and 1,987,456 others
Yourinstagram Mon chéri
View all comments.
User1 Omg babiess
User2 That's Emiel? He has gotten so big
User3 I mean he's 13 now
User2 the small Gucci bag🥺she's soo like harry
annetwist Oh my sweet babies...miss you so much
Yourinstagram miss you too mom🥺
User4 still can't get over that she calls Anne mom😭
User4 Harry didn't comment?
*****
When you arrived at you-Harry's house, the sun was setting. You was dreading the conversation that was bound to happen. Six years went down the drain in a few hours.
Your whole life felt like a lie.
Harry was sitting on the couch when you walked inside. A major part of you hoped he had some explanation, that it wasn't what it looked like or that it was just a mistake. But when you walked more inside and saw her there still after everything, your heart cracked a bit more.
"Y/N," Harry breathed out, his voice coming out in heaves as if he's out of breath, but you knew him. You knew he was just nervous.
He looked so young when he was sad, his eyes droopy yet shining, the mess of curls and clenched jaw reminded you of the early Harry who stole your heart.
Now, he reminded you of the one that broke it.
"Why is she still here?" was asked first thing first you asked. Harry looked behind him, and Hayden just shrugged and plopped down on the kitchen bar stool eating chips while scrolling through her phone.
"Emotional support for him after you leave" She said with a wink pointed at Harry.
"I just thought it would be better to talk with all of us here," he said, fiddling with his fingers, as if searching for a ring on his ring finger, but there wasn't one. Now that you think of it, you hadn't seen him wear it in so long.
You should have seen the signs.
All you could do was nod. You sat down far away from him on the loveseat, which was ironic cause there was no love in the atmosphere.
"I-" Harry started but couldn't. He closed his mouth again and opened it again, gaping like a goldfish. He looked at you, and you looked at him. Your husband, the person you loved the most after your kids, your first love, your everything.
"How long?" You asked, looking at Harry with dead eyes. It had nothing in them, no spark, nothing just lifeless saphire stones to see.
"Five months," Harry said, looking down at the rug, unable to look into your eyes.
Five months...
They were at your parents' house for Thanksgiving six months ago. The first time, he met Hayden after being with you for almost seven years. He never met your sister, and there was a reason for that.
"Thanksgiving," you mumbled out to herself more than to anyone. He fell out of love with you for so long, and you didn't even know.
"Why, Harry?" You finally asked. You still couldn't cry. No, you still had no expression on your face. You felt like a ghost, pale, feelingless, breathing ghost.
"I don't know," He said, his own lips wobbling.
"I'm going upstairs, babe. Come when you sort this out." Hayden said, walking towards the stairs like she owned the house, "See ya, sis!" She yelled from the top of stairs.
Awkward silence sat between them. The lovers who were laughing, kissing, and playing with their kids just this morning are now sitting in a souless house with a dead relationship.
How can things change so fast?
"Y/N" Harry called you softly. You looked up hopefully, thinking he would say it now, say anything to save whatever was left. You could make a home out of ashes, but for that you did need the ashes.
"I think it's better if you stay here. The kids will not be able to adjust somewhere els-" Harry spoke but stopped when he heard a sniffle.
For the first time since you walked in on them, tears flooded down your face. In just a moment, your eyes were blood red, glistening with tears.
"Where will you live?" You asked with your wobbling voice. A frown took over Harry's face watching you cry, but he was to blame for that.
"I didn't mean for it to happen this way Y/N" he said guiltily.
"Then which way did you want Harry?" You shouted at him, "Having one of our kids walk in on you two, or were you thinking of running away with her? or just wake up one day and throw divorce papers on my face?" You asked, your crying increased, making you choke on it and go into coughing fit.
Harry on instinct went to help you, but you raised your hand, stopping him. "Don't." You shook your head and stood up, calming down your coughing fit.
"I just thought I would talk to you," Harry mummbled his head down, looking at floor.
"You thought you would talk to me. Was this thought came before you stick your dick into my sister or after that?" You asked him clearly angry. You were still crying, your knees felt weak, and your head felt dizzy.
"Harry, we still have time. I- we can still be together just throw her out of house and never see her again. I will not go to my parents' house but please." You fell down to your knees sobbing. You wanted to save the only real thing you ever had, the only person you ever loved, who had been through her thick and thin. You needed him. You needed him for the kids.
Harry was looking down at you sympathetically, his own tears falling down. He felt too much shame to look in your eyes when you looked up at up for answers.
"I don't-" He choked a bit, "I love her Y/N" He whispered.
The final nail was in, the corpse was six feet under, there was no ashes to make home from.
You stilled on the ground, then a loud sob broke from you. You cried with your legs tucked to her chest in a fetal position on the floor. Harry came beside you and brought you to his chest. This time, you didn't move away or push him. You clutched onto his shirt, fully sobbing into it.
You digged your nose into his neck, and the shirt smelled like you. Even after everything, he still smelled like you, but it didn't matter now, did it?
The two lovers cried, holding each other, knowing that once they broke away. Everything else would also be broken.
You didn't know how long it had been. You just knew Harry's shirt was fully wet with your tears, and all you could hear was his heartbeat.
You pulled away from him and looked up in his glistening green eyes and after everything for some reason your eyes held hope.
Maybe it was denial after all they do say it's thr first stage of grief.
But you still knew you had to get out of this house. So, you got up and fixed your clothes to best of your knowledge, tears still falling from your eyes.
You didn't say anything just made your way towards the door concerning Harry. "Y/N were are you going?" He asked following behind you.
"Kids are wt Elliot's" Was all you said as you got into the car and drove off. You didn't know where you were going but you just wanted to go far away from all this.
You weren't a mother who knew her daughter didn't go to sleep until she told her a bedtime story or a wife who just got cheated on by her husband. No, you were just a broken soul who got betrayed by a person who vowed never to hurt her.
You drove in autopilot like you have been for the whole day, how you were alive you didn't know. How many cars and trucks you have doged you didn't know, you didn't even know where you were.
It was a bridge of some kind, you would thinking living in this place for so long would grant you the knowledge of where you are but you didn't know shit. Parking on the side of the road you turned off the car and pulled your windows down. The night cold air filled up the car, making your nose and ears red immediately.
You looked around the place, the small city lights twinkling in the diatance, people returning to their homes. Many who will return to a empty space many to someone waiting for them but you? You lost your home.
Having so much money and fame couldn't give you back your home.
You cried, you cried until you couldn't. You cried until all the tears were drained and all there wad left was a ragining headache and heartache.
You got out of the car and stood near the bridge. Your hair blew in the cold air and somehow you knew you have caught cold. You hugged your coat closer to you searching for any type of warmth.
Putting your hands on the metal bridge you leaned into it more. The rings you were wearing clinked against the metal making you look down to your hands and there it was the pretty diamond he especially got made for you, the one that once held a promise, a promise of faithfulness, love and family and some how in just couple hours you lost all of that or maybe you lost it six months ago just didn't realize it.
You took it off. It didn't held any meaning now did it?
You started crying again. It felt like once the dam broke, it didn't want to stop, but maybe that was for the best. You had kids to be strong for.
Oh god the kids...
What were you going to tell them? Maybe Harry would come back for the kids? He didn't love you but kids? He would come for them, right?
You were soo consumed in you misery you didn't realize your phone was constantly ringing in car or the texts or that from cross the bridge couple of girls were taking your pics.
*****
Harry was getting scared.
When you left the house, he thought you would go to Elliot's house, but you weren't there, and now both of them were constantly blowing up your phone to get a hold of you.
You were in no shape of driving. He should have stopped you, but like most of his decisions, he had nothing to do but regret on them.
He walked back to the couch and plopped down. Hayden was still in the bedroom upstairs. The bedroom that was once yours and his. It felt wrong cause it was wrong, wasn't it? But he loved Hayden, so it has to be right? right?
He looked up from his lap, and his eyes went straight to the flowers sitting on the coffee table. It was a habit of yours to bring something home whenever you come back home early. Mostly, it was flowers or the sushi from the sushi place you both love and went to on your first date.
His heart grew heavy as he picked up the flowers, which might be the last one he ever receives from you. Before he could examine them more or cry over them, a pair of hands were taking them out of his hold.
"C'mon baby, let go to bed. I'm tired" Hayden pouted just like you used to, her same yet different eyes as yours looking back at him, and he couldn't resist. He gave her a somber nod and stood up, making his way upstairs. Once he was out of eyeshot, Hayden threw away the flowers in dustbin and happily made her way to the bedroom.
*****
Liked by Y/Nfan2, Y/Nfan4, Harryfan5 and 482,786 others
Y/Nnews Y/N spotted by some fans near the bridge.
View all comments.
User1 Why she looks so sad?
User2 I met her..it was my friends who took the picture. I tried to tell them not to but they didn't listen.
User3 What happened?
User2 She looked sad and tired. I mean it's hard being mom but she her usual aura was down like she's usually so chirpy and happy but she looked like she didn't want to be disturbed so we didn'task for a picture.
User3 Yet you invaded her privacy and took her pictures
User4 Is it just me or did anyone else seeing that she's not wearing her wedding ring?
User3 Omg yes I didn't realize
*****
You didn't know when you got here. All you know is Elliot somehow found you and brought you back to his house. He left you in the guest room and asked you to call him if you needed something.
You tossed and turned for hours in bed, or maybe it had been a few minutes, time didn't exist for you anymore. You got up to go to the kitchen and get some water when you saw the wine bottle. The temptation was bad, your fingers were itching, and your mouth went dry.
If there was any time to get wasted, it was this. The evil little voice in your head said and you gave in.
You took the bottle out of the cellar and sat down on the floor with your back against the kitchen counter. You brought the bottle to your lips, your hands shaking so badly that you almost dropped it.
The first drop felt like heaven. Like an old friend, you meet after a long time who you cut off cause you knew they were toxic, but the feeling of sweet reconnection and nostalgia still felt like bliss.
You were so in your head thinking about wine that you didn't see Bran coming to the kitchen or watching you from the doorway. He wanted to stop you but knew it wasn't his place, so he went back to his bedroom where his soon to be husband was sleeping.
"Babe," He shook him lightly, "Babe, wake up" He said a bit loudly, making him whine and grumble. He felt bad for a bit cause Bran knew that things have been hard, the school wasn't doing so well so he had to work extra but right now you needed him and Bran knew Elliot will blame himself if something happened to you.
"What happened?" Elliot asked, "I think you should talk to Y/N. She's is in the kitchen.." Bran paused, "Drinking".
That woke Elliot up, "But she hadn't drunk ever since she got cl-" "I know that's why I said go talk to her before things get worse"
You were halfway done with the bottle when Elliot came back to the kitchen. You were hitting the back of your head against the counter, filling the silent kitchen with a thumping noise.
"Y/N" He called out softly and for a second he wished he didn't. You looked like a mess your already ruined makeup was now in shambles, your eyes blood red and your lips were adoring a drunk smile.
"Put the bottle down Y/N you're hurting yourself" Elliot said, sitting next to you. You rolled your eyes and took a big gulp of the wine again.
"My life is already ruined. What's the worst can happen now?" You said laughing, but there was no humor in it. It was hollow like you felt. A hollow shell.
"You want to tell me what happened?" He asked quietly, trying to take the bottle from you by distracting you.
You burst into tears hearing his question. You wanted to tell him, tell him everything that happened, but your brain was not letting you talk. Like keeping it to yourself will make it go away. It was still in denial that it really happened.
"I don't know how to," you said in between sobs. Elliot pulled you to his side, his hand rubbing up and down your back, trying to soothe your crying.
"Harry-" you said and sobbed harder. "You want me to call him?" He asked, but you just shook your head.
"C'mon sucre tell me what's going on." He urged you to tell him. As time went by, Eilliot became more and more concerned. It wasn't like you to cry so much over a fight. You were the one who mostly solved them. So, it had to be something big for you to be here and crying rather than with Harry.
You stared at him for a few seconds, contemplating if you should tell him, but who else would you tell? He was the only friend you had except your little brother who was miles away in Sydney.
So you told him. You told him how your shooting wrapped up early, how you picked up kids, and went home to surpirse your husband only to get your heart broken in the worst way possible. How your husband of five years and almost seven years of love was now in love with someone else and that someone else was none other than your sister.
"I'm going to break his face!" Elliot seethed and scrambled to get up from beside you, but you took his arm and pulled him down back beside you, having no doubt he actually would.
"It will do nothing but harm to you and to him." You sighed, wiping your tears. You started to hate the feeling of being sober after crying, so you took swing of your wine again.
"I just don't understand how and what went wrong." You said staring at the cupboard's golden handle, "We were so happy this morning. I went to shooting, and he dropped kids to school I-" You choked on the lump in your throat.
"Do you think maybe he's doing this to get back at me for leaving him to go to Venice last minute?" You asked Elliot, "Do you think it's just a elaborate prank, I mean you know how Hayden is, she's bitch I won't be surprised if she came up with the idea of this prank."
Elliot looked at you with sad eyes, his hands rubbing your arms affectionately. "If it's a prank then it's one fucked up prank sucre so no I don't think it's a prank" Elliot said sadly looking at your sleepy eyes.
"It has to be. I mean, we were talking about having another baby after my shooting ended. Why would he want to have another baby if he didn't love me?" You asked him, hoping to get any just any answer to soothe the ache in your heart.
"I think you should ask that to him once you get a bit better. For now lets get you to bed" He said, taking the bottle out of your hand amd you let him. The physical and mental exhaustion of day caught up to you, and pairing that with wine had you sleepy.
Elliot carefully placed you on the bed and then put a glass of water and painkillers on the bedside table, knowing you would have a bad hangover since you drank after a very long time.
Sleep engulfed you soon enough, and you dreamt of the time your life wasn't in distress.
*****
Harry woke up in the morning and smiled when he felt soft hands around his torso. It was the part of the relationship he didn't experience with Hayden, but now he could do it as much as he wanted.
He turned around and pulled her in a lazy kiss, which soon turned heated and led to his boxers flying off from bed and his hands trailing around naked her body earing soft sounds from her.
Both of them fell asleep again. Harry woke up around 10 am to a hungry stomach. For a second, he was about to yell for you cause you always brought him breakfast in bed on weekends. Only to realize his mistake, but before he could feel bad, his eyes fell on similar blonde hair, fanning your his pillow, and he forgot everything.
He took a quick shower and got ready to get some coffee and breakfast. He decided to wake up Hayden to ask what she wanted. "Babe, wake up. I'm going to get breakfast. Do you want anything? " He asked her, getting a grumble in reply.
But then Hayden woke up fully alert. "I want to go with you!" She said excitedly, "I can finally have all for me please" She said pleading and how could he resist her?
She went to ready while Harry sat on couch downstairs going through his phone, but when Hayden took too long, he went to look for her.
He heard hushed voices behind the closed door, "Babe, are you ready?" He called her and opened the door. She stood there with a bright smile, her hair side parted with a white t-shirt and blue jeans much like his outfit.
"C'mon, let's go!" She said and took his hand in hers. Harry smiled and went with her. They sat in the car, and Harry brought her hands to his lips and drove off.
They arrived the hidden cafe they went most of the time cause it was in small area where most people didn't recognize him and there were no chances of him getting caught.
He ordered his usual, and so did Hayden, but as soon as they got out of the cafe with their food, the flash of the camera went off and then another. Harry went into full panic mode cause not only this will go back to you but to the whole world and quickly took Hayden's hand running to his car, dodging questions, and camera flash both.
Liked by Harryfan2, Y/Nfan2, Harryfan4 and 1,002,789 others
StylesNews Harry Styles seen out with mystery woman at secret cafe.
View all comments.
Y/Nfan2 That's Y/N's sister wtf
Harryfan1 I didn't know she had a sister
Y/Nfan2 they're not that close, Y/N told in an interview.
Harryfan3 He's hanging out with her family aww
Harryfan4 they look a lot closer for my taste🤨
Y/Nfan1 IKR like that hand holding is suspicious
Harryfan4 I hope it's not what I'm thinking it is after seeing Y/N's pictures from yesterday
*****
Meanwhile, you woke up with the worst headache of your life. Thankfully, there were medicines and water beside your bed cause your throat felt dry as a dessert.
You walked out of your room groaning at the amount of light filtering through. "Good morning, sleepyhead." You heard your son say laughing.
"Good morning, mum. We made pancakes!" Your daughter squealed and held up pancakes with both of her hands above her head. You laughed and kissed her cheek.
"It looks delicious, baby and good morning to everyone," you said with a smile, forgetting about your pain for quite some time until your daughter asked you when they would be going home.
"What you got bored of me so fast?!" Bran fake hurt while you stood their staring at her thinking when were you going and where were you going cause you could go anywhere you wanted other than your home.
You were in literal, psychological, and in every sense homeless.
"Let mum have her coffee Amie, you know how she's without it." Elliot joked, and Bran picked Amie up, taking her to the living room to keep her busy, and Em followed them.
You took a mug out of the cupboard to make coffee while Elliot sat there looking at you with pity.
"How did you find me yesterday?" You asked, wanting to change the look in his eyes.
"Oh some girl posted you on twitter" He said biting into his pancake while you made your coffee.
"Someone posted me?" You asked and groaned when he nodded, "My manager is going to kill me"
Great now, top of a cheating husband. You also had to deal with getting your crying pics off the internet and deal with an amgry manager.
You took out your phone out of your jeans, which were getting uncomfortable as time passed.
But nothing matched the uncomfortable and shattering hurt you felt when you saw the trending topic of twitter.
They were already parading out? It had hardly been a day, and he was already over you? Did he not think what will happen when tabloids will find it? which they already had found out making their own stories.
Did he not think what kids will think when they will see it? Em was 14 he knew everything and had a phone of his own. What were you supposed to tell him if he asked you? you didn't even know yourself what was going on.
Your head started pounding more than before, and you could feel the migrain coming in . Even though you knew you had to talk to him, you couldn't today in any shape or form.
Your sadness was slowly subsiding now, and as your headache grew, so did your anger, and you knew it was going to be shit show happening in front of everyone.
*****
Same day in evening-
Liked by Harryfan2, Harryfan5, Y/Nfan2 and 998,765 others
Duexmoi This fan favorite couple, an A list actress, and popstar are getting divorced according to an insider. Who do you think they are?
View all comments.
Harryfan1 Harry and Y/N?
Y/Nfan2 Rumor has it one of them cheated
Y/Nfan4 Defo Harry remember the pictures
Harryfan2 Omg with her sister? that's fucked
Harryfan3 don't jump to any conclusion guys maybe it's someone else or maybe it's fake you know how these are.
Y/Nfan1 Fuck Harry and fuck Hayden
*****
Welll...tell me if you guys liked it pleaseeee i need to know!! here♡
Like,Comment and Reblog
Taglist- @lilsiz @kaverichauhan @thechaoticjoy @samwilsonsgirl @lomlhstyles @tenaciousperfectionunknown @that-daydream-look @harryspirate @tiaamberxx @vmpellie @sunshinemoonsposts @jayde515
#harry styles x reader#harry styles#harry styles writing#harry styles smut#harry styles fluff#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles one shot#harry styles angst#harry styles x y/n#harry styles fanfic#divorce#famous reader#actress reader#dadrry#cheating!harry#angst harry#harry angst#no happy ending#lol#stages of grief
2K notes
·
View notes
Note
FELLOW ACE!! Could I get some physical (but non-sexual) intimacy w/ Ghost? Thanks :D
YES OF COURSEEE ENJOY!!!!
masc!reader x ghost
Sometimes all anyone needs is a good nap, no matter how much they deny it or huff or grumble or say they've got "more important stuff to do". Sometimes it's necessary to drag them away from their endless tasks that they really don't have to worry about right now anyway, when instead they could be sprawled across their partner and forced to just rest.
Which is exactly how you have Ghost now. Sure, he'd resisted and complained and tried to dart back off to his office, but the moment you shut the door to your room, clicking the lock in place, he was entirely compliant in letting you step him out of his boots, slide the t-shirt over his head and swap out his work trousers for much more comfy joggers. He still huffed and rolled his eyes, yet when you started changing yourself he was quick to drop your shirt to the floor, wrapping his arms around your waist and tucking his nose into your neck.
"C'mere, love," you murmur, kissing the shell of his ear and guiding him to lie down on the bed, his tired frame blanketing over yours, grunting as he gets comfortable. He starts to get all whiny, grumbling incoherently and rubbing his masked face on your bare shoulder until you hold him still and gently ease away his balaclava, putting it - still in reach - on the bedside table. He meets your lips in a soft kiss, then pecks them around your face, targeting first the cheeks, then nose, then eyelids. It makes you laugh and he loves the sound; loves the feel as your chest rumbles against his, your hands holding his waist and his in your hair and over your heart. He settles down and his fingertips carry the bu-dum, bu-dum, bu-dum from your body to his.
You ask him about his day, a question anyone could present, but rarely will he answer properly like he does with you. Scarred lips curl into a tiny smile as he recounts each detail, talking quietly so that nobody could listen in if they tried. If you commented on that, he'd say it wouldn't matter anyway; there was no importance in rambling about the "incompetence of some recruits" (as he so elegantly put it). And of course, you would be inclined to disagree; hearing him go on and on about something as mundane as how had his day been - that was the favourite part of your own day, as you trace invisible patterns into his skin, running a finger over the ridges of his spine and feeling him just melt into you.
#my brain is half dead so sorry if it's not ended roundly lol#thank you for the request!!!#simon ghost riley#cod fluff#ghost x reader#cod men x male reader#simon ghost riley x reader#x masc reader#ghost x male reader#x male reader#cod x male reader#ghost x you#simon ghost riley x you
321 notes
·
View notes
Text
...And The Deep Blue Sea
Pairing: Pirate! Hobie Brown x Fem! Reader
Word count: 13.2k
Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, No specific physical description of the reader (except for her clothing), CW food mentions, TW blood, CW violence, TW death, CW gore, CW injury, CW guns.
A/N: it's the end.
Navigation
Between the Devil and the Sea Masterlist
CHAPTER 15 >>>
“Hello, little birdy.” Mathias cackles like there's a pebble stuck in his throat.
He roams his sickly yellowed eyes at your body, sending shivers down your spine with every glance. “Or should I say Viscountess?” He laughs again. “You wear that gown well,” his eyes flick behind you, “Eugene, my boy!” The man beside you stiffens up. “Come get your bride and sit with me.” He drums at the table. “The Food is comin’, I heard that the bride and groom usually don't get to eat after everything is said and done. We don't want you to starve, ain't that right, lieutenant?”
The eye patched man standing in the corner nods slowly. His hands are neatly tucked behind his back like an obedient dog waiting for his master.
“You're alive?” You say breathlessly, teeth gritted, knuckles clenching tight on the skirt of your dress. Pulse rapidly thrumming, sending alarm bells to ring in your ear.
“‘course I am! No one can kill the king's flame, not even the red hydra,” he spits the name out. “or even a real fuckin' hydra.” Chuckling, scars mar his neck and hands, the only visible ones under his navy blue officer's uniform. It's still red and angry, you can tell some parts of it hasn't healed yet. You plan to add more, whether it's by your bare hands or a piece of cutlery; you're prepared to hit him where it hurts.
Numerous medals are on display on his jacket, shining under the sunlight filtering through the closed curtains. “Can you believe it? I go out to hunt the red hydra and I get myself a pretty bird.” He continues annoyingly, voice crackling, a dry cough escaping his pale mouth.
Mathias notices you still standing in the doorway, his eyes are dull, like a hurricane that's about to devastate a whole town. Eugene notices and he reaches for your arm to sit you down. You flinch away from his touch, eyes trained on the man before you.
“I said sit down!” Mathias’ booming voice rings out in the dining hall, his fist slamming on the table, champagne flutes fall over like dominoes with a harsh crack. “Fuckin’ grab her, Eugene! Don't be such a fuckin’ cock and grab her!”
“Y-yes uncle.” Your ‘fiance’ tentatively guides you towards the chair by your elbow, you brush off his touch, angry eyes gazing at his cowardly face.
Sitting down on the right side of Mathias, you intentionally choose a chair as far away from him as possible. But before you could sit, he clicks his tongue, finger wagging in front of his scarred face.
“Not there, gorgeous.” He pats the seat closest to him. “Right here.”
“No,” you stand your ground, shaking from anger, or is it fear that climbs in your stomach and crawls upwards to your quickening heart?
You refuse to get near the monster as Eugene stares across from you with anxiety in his eyes.
“Sit. Down.” Mathias enunciated, “or Lieutenant Dubois here will make you sit down.” Said uniformed man grunts, hazel eye roaming across the table, gaze boring a hole in between your twitching eyes. The sheath of his cutlass is engraved with tally marks among the ornate laurels and lions. “You already know what he'll do to you, he's quite amazing with a sharp object.”
“I am too.” You clench your jaw, still refusing to sit.
To your surprise, Mathias grins, a sickeningly hideous smile, teeth bared, tongue lapping at the gold in place of the fangs, lips wrinkling, he chuckles softly as something passes by his yellowed eyes.
“Sorry ‘bout that, you just reminded me so much of your father.” He leans on the back of his chair, hands gesturing towards you. “I literally saw him instead of you! It's fuckin' crazy innit?” He shoves Eugene by the shoulder, the viscount flinches, wincing at the ache. “Y’know, I recognized you— wait, lieutenant! Grab her and make her sit down! This story deserves to be listened to properly.”
“No!” You try to run back to the hallway, but the man is too fast for you. With the heavy skirt and weak leg, you didn't have a chance against him. “Motherfucker—!” With his arms around your torso, you kick and flail about, Mathias gives him a look and the man headbutts you from behind.
The room spins as he carries you towards the chair. The ceiling swirls, ears flooding with your rushing blood. With your muddled hearing, you swear you heard Eugene defend you, and you swear you heard a slap right after.
With a heavy thunk, the door closes behind you, your exit closes behind you. The only remaining door is across you, it's currently closed but you're sure it's unlocked judging by the draft coming from it. Head still aching, vision warbling, the one eyed man stands in front of the only exit.
“Now where was I?” Mathias continues like nothing happened. You glare at him through the corner of your eyes, your skin feels like spikes from the goosebumps rising above. “Ah, yes! I recognized you on the ship, before a literal myth came eating my crew. By the way, what the fuck was that, huh? Fuckin' weird, right?”
“Shut the fuck up.” You say weakly.
“Anywho, You looked a lot like your father but with your mother's beauty. I knew them, your father more so. Once upon a time he was my lieutenant, he was pretty good at it too. Too bad he had to disobey orders and marry above his station.”
“Why don't you ever shut up?” You lay your elbows on the table, arms flat, slyly covering the steak knife under your arm. “Are you a narcissist? Do you like hearing your own voice—?”
Mathias hurls a salad plate at your head. You dodge it in time before it shatters on the floor. You don't have time for this, you need to get to Hobie immediately, before it's too late. You have no plan, no weapons, but you'll be damned if you don't try. And you can still hear his screams echoing in your ears, as if he's already dead, as if he's already haunting you.
You need to try. Or it'll be your end too.
The monster before you clears his throat. “Don't be rude.” He points a finger at you.
You now notice how worse for wear he is, under the white paint and powdered wig lies injuries that haven't healed since the fight. You smell it, the herbs hastily smudged, and the rot in his flesh. It seeps into his bones, poisoning his body. You just wish it'll eat at him faster.
You're suddenly not afraid anymore.
“Anyway, before I was rudely interrupted. Your father, well, he fought a good fight on the Demeter. He stood his ground till the very end until a dozen or so bullets pierced his skin.”
The crescent in your palms gets deeper.
“He was smart though, smarter than you probably. You see, he rigged the ship to blow. He had the fuckin' balls to do it even though his entire family was inside. Ain't it funny—?” The double doors swing open.
The butler interrupts his speech, a handful of staff bring in an entire chicken at his plate. One pours him a glass of wine before he snatches the entire bottle and places it right next to his glass. Hot soup and meat pie is brought in also, the smell is appetizing but you place your hand over your plate wordlessly, telling them you're not hungry at the moment. How could you be when Mathias eats in front of you like he hasn't eaten in decades?
The tension is thicker than the cream placed in front of Eugene.
He munches loudly as he takes apart the roast. String of meat flies all over, the former white table cloth turns brown when he wipes his hands on it. Eugene spares you a look, eyes staring forlornly at his empty plate. His hand inching closer towards his goblet before deciding to just drink the ruby liquid.
You're on your own.
The wolves devour their fill whilst you plan your escape. Your mind screams for you to run, to run where no one can find you. The voice echoing in your ears is right at one thing, but you'll never hide anymore, not from Mathias, not from your past, not from anyone. You'd face it with fire in your veins just like your father had.
Mathias snorts, and you wish it was a choke. “He fought well, got a few of my men. How do you think the lieutenant here lost his eye?” He points at the stoic man using a half eaten chicken leg. “Your father was brilliant with a sword. A crack shot with a blunderbuss too. But, eh, it was all in vain. He shouldn't have messed with the crown and polite society.”
He continues to loudly eat, hands slick with oil, mouth full of meat. “You see, your mother was that fuckin' woman. Wealth, looks, title, she had it all. And the king wanted it too, greedy bastard he is.” There it is, the confession. But you still listen because you know something else will come after. “But your mum decided to run off and elope with the bastard son of an unpopular lord. The king was pissed off.”
Mathias laughs roughly. “But he got over it.”
Your eyes widened, but before you could hide it, the devil noticed.
“I knew you ain't as smart as your dear old dad.” He smiles, you can see the meat stuck in his golden teeth.
“He was the crowned prince,” Mathias rips open the chicken in half messily. “And he needed a wife from one of the big families.” He doused the meat in salt, “and the greedy fuck chose someone who didn't want him, just for the fun of it. Who could blame her, all he ever wanted was a brood of children to pass on his blood.” He takes a generous bite, teeth meeting flesh, the sound of his chewing makes you hasten your plan. “Thank fuck Frederick's father ain't as stupid as his son. That man sought out the opportunity when given to him and fuckin' took it. Too bad he didn't live long enough to see the fruit of his labour.”
Anger settles in your stomach, fury in your eyes and flesh, you want to damn him, and everyone involved. Especially her.
“It's her isn't it?” You say as you slither your hand towards the ceramic bowl. “The Queen, it was all her.”
Mathias smiles genuinely, “You finally got it, little bird!” He claps. “She's fuckin' brilliant, and so are her coffers. The pay,” he whistles out, “the pay was magnificent, still is by the way. I didn't even need to become an admiral for the money when I'm earning more than a fuckin’ duke.” Kicking Eugene under the table, he makes his godson choke on his drink. “See, I told you the little duchess here is just your type.”
His voice fuels your fury. Each vowel is grating in your ears, every wheezed breath he takes is a reminder that he still lives. A reminder that your knife isn't stuck in his throat.
“It ain't as bad as you think it is,” The navy man continues. “Married to my boy, you'd have a title, a home and a decent family. At least now you don't have mister Brown crawling all over you. He'd be dead by sundown, and I can't wait to see it.”
Mathias thinks his words would make you do something drastic that'll have his hands wrapped around your neck. But you've learned your lesson, so you bide your time, taking their attention away from your wandering hands.
“You're dying.” The heat from the bowl matches the fire in you. Your voice doesn't shake, nor your resolve. “Even with all the coin she gave you, you still can't save yourself. You are riddled with sepsis, I can smell it on you. A collapsed lung from the way you cough, and whatever the fuck disgusting shit you have in you. You are dying, rotting from the inside like how it's meant to be. And the world will be better off without you. They will forget you, first, your poor family, then your men, then the entire country. Even your bitch of a queen will forget you. Then the world. But Hobie will be remembered. His name will be etched in the annals of history while your name fades into obscurity.” You laugh humorlessly, teeth bared, eyes aflame. “And I can't wait to see it.”
He seethes in his seat, hand clenching around the cutlery. The devil doesn't show his anger bluntly this time, he hides it because you struck a nerve. With a grin, you promise to Hobie and to your parents that Mathias won't live to see the day end.
“Do you remember what I told you in the revenge?” You continue with a smile that sends shivers down the spine of everyone in the room. The quiet lieutenant remembers the day he lost his eye. “I intend to fulfill that promise.”
Through a clenched jaw, he coughs again, hiding his weakness from everyone in the room and how a drop of blood stains his pale lips. “I love it when women show me their claws. But I can't stay. I would love to see the ceremony and the festivities, but I can't miss the execution. That's why I came here earlier so I could pass on my blessings.” Mathias wipes his mouth clean harshly. “If you'd excuse me, I places to be—”
Before he could stand up, you quickly fling the bowl right on his painted face. The hot soup splashes on his skin, melting the white powder off his face. With his guttural scream, within a split second before his man could intervene, you take the steak knife and plunge it into his hand and into the table.
The screams he let out was music to your ears, holding the hilt of the weapon, you twist it before yanking it out of his flesh, tearing his hand in half, ripping the nerves and letting waterfalls of crimson into the white tablecloth. With a determined yell, you aim for his throat.
Mathias recovers a second before steel meets his skin, he backhands you with the same injured hand. The knife falls off your hand. Pain blooms on your face, and you go blind as your head hits the floor. His blood dirties your pristine white gown, splotches of red drenching the bodice.
Your left eye stings, cheek heated from the harsh slap. Despite your lungs gasping for air through your possible broken nose, you crawl over to Mathias. Your scorn drives you to grab his leg, pulling him down with a strong tug, he falls hard on his back, splitting the floorboards in half. Taking the crown off your head, you use the pointy end to stab his leg and his knee in quick succession. He yells and yells but you don't stop. The ichor from his wounds drenches your face and hands, you see red, and you see his untimely death in your blood soaked hands.
Climbing further up, you use the opportunity to aim at his groin. But a pair of arms stops you before you could hit your mark. Thrashing, slashing the hands around your shoulders, you mark the man with the same bloodied tiara.
“Fuckin’ bitch!” Mathias stands up, limping, he unsheathes his lieutenant’s cutlass from his hip. With a stomp over your thigh, he pushes in the heel of his boot as you let out a cry. The steel is pointed at your heart, his eyes demand blood for blood. “I should've just killed you instead—”
A shot rings out, the bullet hits the blade, breaking it in half. Mathias flinches before he smiles at the one who shot him. There on the opposite doors, stands Miguel O’hara with his gun raised, barrel aimed at his former comrade. Lyla stands next to him, her own blunderbuss raised towards the man holding on to you.
“Let her go and there won't be any more bullets flying around.” Miguel's voice is steady, back straight, eyes flicking over to you writhing on the floor.
“You better listen, cyclops, O’hara here might hesitate but I won't. Let our girl go.” Lyla reassures you with a nod, and you bite your captor's hand.
You tear his flesh open with your teeth, ichor filling your mouth as he hisses in pain, dropping you unceremoniously on the floor.
Mathias looks at you with wide eyes, disbelief in his burned face. “I guess you learned a thing or two from your man.”
You spit out the chunk of flesh whilst your eyes never leave his. Crimson dripping off your lips like rain, teeth the same colour as the wine spilled on the table, you smile at him.
“Come near me and I'll show you what else he taught me.”
The man before you laughs genuinely, yet his eyes never leave yours, making sure you stay away from him. You're more than ready to close the gap. The cutlass is still trained on you, you're about to pounce when Miguel calls your name with urgency. As if he can read your mind.
“Your girl is fuckin' insane ain't she?” Mathias addresses Miguel, like how a family member speaks about a niece he hasn't seen in years. Proud, there's a sense of pride laced in his tone. “Just like her dear old parents, eh?”
“I'm warning you, Mathias.” Miguel keeps an eye out for the uniformed man behind you. “Take your captain, Alexander, before I put a bullet in his heart.”
Mathias scoffs, legs shaking from the wounds you caused. “Please, you'd shoot me? You didn't have the balls back then, why would you do it now?”
Miguel raises his gun higher, aiming for the man's head. “Because she wasn't there,” he cocks his head towards you, “you didn't have a weapon aimed directly at my goddaughter.” Eyebrows knitted together in anger, his hand doesn't shake, eyes glowing red in the sunlight. “Now let her go.”
Mathias posture sags, “fine, but only because I've got an event I cannot miss.” He nods at his godson. “Make sure you're married to her by the end of the day or there will be consequences.” He clicks his tongue, Eugene melts into his chair, face turned away from you and his godfather.
Mathias gives you one last look. “Happy marriage, birdy.”
“You're going to die today Mathias, one way or another I'll get my hands on you.” You flick your eyes towards the man clutching his hand. “Death is coming for you too,” you say nonchalantly. “I'll finish what my father started.”
They leave with their fronts turned to you, not even twisting around to show you their backs that are susceptible to your attack. Or in this case, your teeth.
Lyla appears next to you, helping you by the crook of your arm. Pain lingers on your leg and face. “Christ, he burst your fucking capillaries.”
Sure enough, you feel the sting in your eye, a throbbing pain that leaves you nauseous. Miguel, tentatively closes the distance, weathered hand carefully holding your chin. You wince, as he moves your face.
“Fuck, you need to see a doctor.” He says whilst you flinch away from his touch.
“I'm alright, I need a horse.” You begin to walk away, Miguel and Lyla follow close behind you. “And I need my fucking knife.” I need him back, your mind whispers to you. “I need to save him.”
“His execution is in two hours.” Eugene says meekly, and you stop in your tracks. “I heard the officers talk, they're not going to hang him for his crimes, the crown gave him the ax.”
With quick steps, you take Eugene by his collar, gripping tightly as you spill venom. Miguel tries to hold you back but you blindly kick his leg.
“Delay them.”
“I can't—”
“Do you want to be under his boot your entire life? If we marry I'll be crushed with you,” You stare determinedly at his scared eyes. “because that will happen if you don't help. You said you cared about me, then help me and all will be forgiven. Please, you're a viscount, you have the means to help.”
He sniffs, lips curled into a frown. “I'm sorry, I-I can't—”
You scoff, letting him go. “If I fail, Mathias lives and that means you'd be dead too.” Walking away, leaving him cowering in his seat, your small entourage follows.
“Where are you going?” Miguel matches your stride, walking next to you, he stares with concern. “Y/N, where are you going?”
“To my room to pamper my nose.” With adrenaline coursing through you, his face flashes in your mind with every step. Save him, your mind yells, save him, save him, or it'll be the end for you too.
“Cousin?” Collette asks as you make your way towards the apartments where your chambers lie. She roams her worried eyes around your bloodied wedding gown, her hands that are clutching a bouquet of flowers shakes. “Are you hurt? What happened?”
“I stabbed Mathias and bit through a man's hand.” You say without stopping, she squeaks in place.
John stops in his tracks, “w-what the fuck happened?” The twins are both dressed to the nines, all fine fabrics and hair all made up. “Cousin!” He calls after you whilst you don't stop for anyone.
“Thanks for the hot tip, kids!” Lyla yells back to your cousins. “A bit of advice, tell the catering staff the wedding’s off!” She cackles. “Save me a macaroon though!”
“They called you?” You ask, your heeled feet ache but you press on. “Where were you Lyla?”
“I'm sorry, duchess, I overslept.” She shrugs. “But I'm here now ain't I? Also I got Miguel here so...”
“You should stop, Y/N.” Miguel says sternly. “You're hurt—”
“No.”
“Y/N.”
You whirl around to face him. Anger flares up once again. “You should've shot him where he stood.” You poke his sturdy chest roughly. “He's the one who killed them, yet you let him get away!”
“I know, I— there are repercussions to killing someone. Especially if they're an officer.” He falters but he composes himself. “Revenge is not the answer—”
“He killed them, Miguel!” Your broken voice echoes out into the vast hallway. “Him and the queen are the reason why they're dead, and you let him get away so he could kill Hobie.”
“It was the queen? Not—”
“Yes, not the idiot king.” You turn around to continue your trek. You curse the large estate. “I have no idea why she did it, but I'm gonna get her too. But I won't live to see that day if I don't save him.” Your tone falters as you pass by your mother's portrait. “I need to save him, even if it's the last thing I do.”
“You won't succeed.” Miguel stands in front of you to stop you, and you roll your eyes, wanting to kick him in the groin. “He's a pirate, Y/N, he won't do the same for you.”
“He has, and he would. I need to try, I can't let him die.” You choke back a sob. Reality crashes around you. What would you do once you get there? Will you be able to save him on your own? You have no one, you have no idea where the crew is, and he's going to die. You can't live with yourself if you don't try.
“Y/N.” Miguel says your name like a reprimand.
“You said back in the carriage that I can leave whenever I want, all I needed to do was ask.” You chuckle without humour. “Here’s me asking, Miguel.”
“You'll die, Y/N, I can't lose you too.”
“And I can't lose him.” Tears gather in your eyes. “If no one will save him then who will? I have to go whether you like it or not.”
“The people will,” Lyla pipes up, she casually leans against the wall, checking her nails. “there have been…whispers since they announced his execution. If you go, I'm sure you won't be alone.”
You face the taller man again. “See, I have help—”
“Rumours aren't enough! Don't you get it? You're better off marrying Thompson at this point.” You blink in surprise. He backtracks. “I–I didn't mean it that way, I meant, I'd rather see you settled than dead.”
“You might not be as bad as Mathias, but you might as well be.” You brokenly say. Miguel's face falls at your words. “You claim to love my parents and me by extension, but you're complicit,” you spit out the word full of venom. “you're only helping them by not letting me go. I don't want to be settled, Miguel.” You shake your head. “It isn't love if you make me.”
Miguel visibly shatters in front of you. None of the composure he showed to Mathias is left in his body. He hasn't seen this much devotion since your parents. He hasn't seen this much love since he felt their presence. He hasn't felt this hurt since his daughter left this world.
“You had time to grieve for them, I didn't.” You push him out of the way, controlling your sob. “Please don't stop me, or I'll fight you like how I fought Mathias.” You open the doors to your chambers.
Miguel lingers outside as you and Lyla make your way inside the familiar room. The man that has your dagger sits in front of the vanity, the large man is currently trying on a spare tiara, and is wearing one of the ruby earrings.
“You can keep those,” Your sudden voice makes him jump away, large eyes staring at you with slight embarrassment. “I won't tell a soul, just take them, give me my dagger and get out of Hazelside.”
The cogs in his head move, swallowing thickly, he nods curtly. “Can I keep the necklace too?” He asks gruffly.
“Sure,” You shrug, Lyla stifled a giggle.
Wordlessly, he shoves a ruby necklace in his pocket, then he unsheathes your dagger and places it on the vanity.
“We good, duchess?”
“Actually,” you have an idea. “You're a muscle for hire, correct?” You've noticed how he doesn't move like the other foot soldiers do, or the guards for Hazelside. His disheveled uniform solidifies your theory. The man nods proudly. “How would you like to take my entire jewelry box in exchange for you and your men's services?”
“That depends, what kind of work are we talkin’ ‘bout?”
Lyla adds to the conversation. “Murder of some pompous nobles and free a bunch of pirates. With a main focus on the red spider of course.”
“Kill the red spider too?” He asks, a thick eyebrow raised.
“No!” You say quickly, “free him and kill anyone who stands in the way.” You mutter a curse under your breath. “I don't have time for this.”
The mercenary thinks once again, he seems to be weighing the pros and cons.
Stepping closer, you practically breathe down his neck. “I'll throw in my shoes and gowns too,” you raise a hand for him to shake. “As long as you'll be there before the execution starts, and you keep my uncle and aunt distracted, scare them is all. Just don't touch my cousins or the staff.”
The scarred man chuckles deeply. “An offer I cannot refuse, duchess.” He clasps your hand, shaking it once. “Creating chaos is our main specialty.”
“Yes and I saw a glimpse of that in the barn.” You give him a tight-lipped smile, eyes lit with tamped down anger. “You better hold your end of the bargain, or you'll have my dagger in your throat instead of my necklace.”
“‘course, my lady. My men will be there.” He leaves with a grin, shoving Miguel by his shoulder.
“What just happened?” Your godfather asks as you lift your skirt to rip the metal of your petticoat off using the dagger. He turns around, closing the doors to your chambers and shuts his eyes while still turned around.
“Our girl here just used her charisma to strike a bargain. Oh they grow up too fast.” Lyla dramatically wipes a nonexistent tear in her eye. “Don't forget to change your shoes, my lady.”
You stare at yourself in the vanity, blood coats the front of your gown, a smattering of crimson coats the lace, splashes of ichor paints the front of the bodice right next to the pretty embroidery. Your face isn't any better, the makeup the handmaidens painted you with is still there, but now it coincides with Mathias' drying blood. It drips down from your cheeks down to your neck, it hides the gold underneath the crimson. Your left eye shares the same shade, capillaries burst, spreading your blood into the whites of your eyes. The gloves meant to hide the callouses and fresh scars are sticking to your skin, drenched in ruby, drenched like the floors of the revenge.
You leave it on, a reminder of your goal.
“I haven't forgotten.” Tossing the heeled shoes away, you make your way towards where you hid your old friend.
The sight alone of the weathered leather shoes would make you weep but you don't have time for that. Lifting your skirts up, still wearing the ridiculous wedding gown that has become significantly lighter, you quickly run towards the unicorn tapestry.
Dagger in hand, you're surprised to hear Miguel's heavy strides following you inside the hidden tunnels. Once the sun greets you and the grass crunches under your feet, you beeline for the barn.
A stable boy jumps at the sudden intrusion, he stutters, moreso when he sees your blood drenched form.
“Can you saddle Bernard quickly?” You ask, and the poor boy almost has a heart attack. “Please? I'm a friend of Hobie and—”
“Oh, Hobie! You should've said it earlier then. You're her! He told me a whole lot about you." He smiles at you, already picking up the heavy saddle. "You know how to ride, My lady?"
“No need for that.” You wave away the title. “And yes, perks of running away for years, you learn how to run away in different ways.”
He chuckles, yet the nervousness is still palpable in his eyes. “I'm on it, your grace.”
Smiling softly, you don't correct him anymore. Turning around, you see no one accompanying you. “Lyla?”
“She went off to get her horse,” Miguel appears from behind the barn door. “I'm keeping a lookout.” He returns to his post, acting casual while leaning on the door.
“You don't have to be here if you don't want to, Miguel.” You walk behind him, the wooden doors are blocking you from his view and vice versa.
“I…pondered your words, Y/N, and you're right. I don't want to make you do something you clearly don't want. I won't make that same mistake again, it cost me years without you. It won't make me lose another day without you, even if it means saving a damn pirate.” He chuckles, and you take his hand from where you stood. You hear his breath hitch, “I'm sorry. I think your parents would hate me right now.”
“I don't know them very well but, I think they'll be proud of you. You found me, you brought me home. You were doing the best you can with good intentions.” You squeeze his rough hand, placing your forehead against the door where his shoulders would lie. “Thank you for letting me leave. I think it's best for you to move on, uncle. They'd want that for you.” You hear him sniff, squeezing your hand back.
“Yes, I think it's best.” He lets your hand go, “starting with this,” Placing something round in your hand, he closes your palm around it gently. “They’d want you to have it, something to keep close to you when you're at sea. It helped me back then, I'm sure it'll help you now.”
“You're not coming with me?”
“Not yet, I'll follow you once I can. I'll keep your aunt and uncle here, making sure that they don't get their footmen to follow you. And I'll make sure the ruffians you hired won't go overboard and actually do what you asked them to.” Miguel tearfully chuckles, “just promise me you won't lose your humanity after you take your revenge.”
“I promise, I won't let it consume me.” You whisper your promise just for him.
Taking a peek at the object in your hand, your heart almost shatters at the familiarity of it. It's the same one your mother was clutching in her portrait. Opening the golden locket, you see a portrait of your mother on the left, and on the right, your father. They look younger in the painting, happier, more alive. They were right, you bear a resemblance to your father just as much as to your mother's features. You finally got a good look at them together, and your heart squeezes at the thought.
Sniffing, you look up at Miguel with gratitude, “tell my cousins ‘thank you,’ please.”
“I will. Keep the locket safe for when we meet again?”
“I will, I'll see you in the water, uncle.” He's the only person who's worthy of the title you've bestowed him. Lyla gallops her horse in the distance. “Now get out of here, or I'll end up not letting you go.” You tease, it has half truth in it. Your smile falters, "Tell my mother—"
“Come back and you can tell her yourself. She's still staying in the same town. I know she's waiting for you.” He finally turns around to face you. “Before you go,” shrugging off his coat, he hands it to you. “You'll get cold.”
You look at the fabric with tears in your eyes. Taking the blue coat, he helps you put it on. Sniffing, he turns you back around, rubbing the creases in the sleeves away.
“There, it's perfect but it's missing something.”
“Something blue, and now I've got something borrowed.” Joking, you smile at your godfather.
Miguel hands you a blunderbuss, it's an ordinary looking one, save for the purple leather handle that decorates it.
“It was your father's, he gave it to me when he named me your godfather.” He points at the silver barrel where three letters are etched on it crudely. “It's our first initials. He said that it gave him extra luck.”
“I—I can't take this.”
“Well, you've already taken my locket and coat, what harm falls on me if I gave you his gun? You're gonna need it wherever you're going.” Miguel shoves it in your hands, “just— save a bullet for Mathias and the queen.”
“That I can do.” You grin at him despite the pain in your chest.
“The party's here.” Lyla’ horse stops just outside, she exclaims with fanfare. “Ready to kill some motherfuckers?”
“Aye,” you nod with determination. The fire is blazing under your eyes, lightning in your fingertips, you wear the locket around your neck with pride.
For your parents that you've never met but came to love. For Miguel, for the crew and for all they've sacrificed for you. for Hobie, the love of your life. And for MJ.
—
You ride off on Bernard's back, flames in your chest, wind whipped cheeks, and hands clutching the reins tighter. Your father's blunderbuss weighs heavy on your hips, the smell of Mathias' drying blood stings in your nose. But the putrid smell keeps you awake, a reminder of your goal, a reminder of what truly matters— Hobie. Your love that is currently in shackles, hands bound tighter than the rope around his neck.
Lyla snaps you awake, her own horse huffing from the intense speed.
“Your eyes keep glossing over, duchess, keep ‘em clear for me, yeah?” She yells above the loud hoofbeats.
“I will, are you sure about your plan?”
“My guild consists of a bunch of sacks of shits that'll do anything for a quick coin.” You knit your eyebrows in worry. “But they're loyal to a fault, ‘sides, your captain used to be one of us, once upon a time.”
“What?” You spot the capital's sign, entering the city without stopping. There's a fork in the road as you ride towards the center of the city. The familiar smell of the sea fills you as you ride closer and closer to your destination.
“A story for another day, gorgeous.” She rides faster, her guns clinking against the saddle. “I'll ride ahead, gather as many as I can. Go to him, and disrupt the festivities.” Her voice fades as she hurries off.
Lyla heads towards the left whilst you ride on the right, trying to remember the directions she told you during the short ride.
Numerous buildings whizz by you as you ride faster and faster. Rickety stone buildings turn into elegant carved marble. The streets become smoother as you get closer to the palace. You heard the crowd before you saw them.
Bernard stops in his tracks, right at the edge of the thousands of people clambering to see the execution. He whines as you try to calm him down. Some of the common people are quiet, eyes straight towards the stage where a large man with a black hood stands. The scraping of the ax getting sharpened makes your heart stop.
The palace looms overhead, its golden terrace holds the royals, faces smug, wigs high as they look down at the crowd. Right next to them stands Mathias, hand hastily bandaged, still dripping in blood. His face contorts into pain as he clutches at his injury. You draw your father's gun out, resisting the urge to shoot at the man, but with how far you are, you know you'll miss.
Scanning the stage, you bite your tongue, preventing a pained whimper from getting out.
You've made it, and he has too.
Clad in a white undershirt with the sleeves too big for his frame, trousers too short for his legs, hands tied behind his back, face beaten. Hobie stands with his back straight despite all the red gashes under his thin shirt.
You whisper his name like he can hear you above the yells of the people. You're frozen, hands shaking, eyes unblinking at his form.
The uniformed men make him kneel, his knees slam harshly against wooden floors.
Hobie was never afraid of dying before, he avoided it a hundred times. Yet, his binded hands quiver, dull grey eyes scanning around the crowd, he tries to find familiar faces amidst all the strangers. Trying to find his crew, not for help, but the thought of dying in front of them fills him with sorrow. He doesn't see them, and he's glad. Moreso when he doesn't see your face, he doesn't want you to experience what he had seen before.
But there's a part of him that wants to see you for one last time before steel kisses his neck. He wants to feel your lips against his again, but for now, having the memory of it is enough. The pearl you gave him is cold against his chest, he wishes to hold it again.
Having you in his arms however brief is enough for him, he'll think of you when the blade strikes him down for the last time.
Even with his imminent death, he still finds the will to smile, the same smile you love so much. It's enough to snap you awake.
A navy officer yells above the crowd, scroll in hand, voice booming and commanding. “Here stands the notorious pirate Hobart Brown, he stands here waiting for his sentence. The crimes he has committed are atrocious enough that the crown has automatically given him the guilty verdict!” The people don't cheer, some even boo and hiss at the man. You inhale deeply, hand holding on to the reigns tighter, as you weave Bernard through the crowd. Surprisingly, they part for you.
“What say you, Hobart Brown?”
Hobie chuckles deeply, lips split and bloodied, he grins. “It's captain, actually!” His voice drives you to ride faster, gun raised. He twists around to look at the nobles in their high tower. “It's captain Hobie Brown, you fuckin' wankers!” Cackling, the officer kicks him down. He falls, gasping, neck landing harshly at the stone slab that still has remnants of its last guest.
Still, Hobie yells obscenities, “you haven't won! You might cut my head but two more will replace me! Just like how I replaced the emerald bastard from the south!” He tries to sit up but another man holds him down. “They'll be stronger and better than me! From my death, the people will gather at your gates and break your golden walls!”
The executioner raises his large ax, the sun bouncing off the metal.
Hobie quiets down at the glimmer of the ax shining in his eyes. Whispering the names of his loyal crew, then he softly calls for you like an acolyte prays for forgiveness.
The crowd parts for you like the sea parts for a sailing ship. Giddying up, hooves hitting loudly against stone, you aim.
It's the end, but it doesn't have to be.
“Hobie!” You scream as loud as you can before you shoot.
He blinks in surprise for a second, the man holding him down scampers away as a shot rings out. Now free, Hobie quickly moves away from the stone slab as your bullet hits the executioner's hood right in-between his eyes.
Gasping, the ax falls next to Hobie's head with a thud. The edge is embedded in the wood, missing his face just a few inches away. Eyes staring at the clear sky, he thinks he has died when your face suddenly appears in front of him.
“Scuttlebutt,” he softly says in disbelief.
“Hi, captain, I'm here to rescue you.” You smile at him, “hold on a minute.” Sitting up right, you shoot at the remaining officer. A body thuds, and you return to his side. “I've got you.” You say as you help him sit up, hands already untying his bonds.
Hobie looks at you like a sailor looks at the sea for the first time, with reverence, and awed by the sheer beauty. “You've got me.”
Ropes falling off his aching wrists, he moves to hold your face desperately. Without a second thought, he kisses you fervently. Life spreads back to him, fingertips electric as he holds your face close. Lips warm, you kiss back like it's just you and him. Hands instinctively sliding to his head, you pull away when you feel scruff under your palm.
“What did they do to your hair?!” You almost weep, hands roaming across his bare head. “Oh my god, they have to pay for this.”
Hobie laughs, still holding your face like holding on to a precious pearl. “It'll grow back.” Tears prick your eyes, mirroring his own. “I love you, you did good, scuttlebutt.”
“I did good?” You peck his chapped lips once more.
“Yeah, love.” He prevents you from looking at the military that has their weapons raised and their eyes targeting you and him. “You did very well—” tears escape his grey eyes when he hears the familiar click of a gun.
It's the end.
“I love you too,” you know it's the end. “I'll see you back at the revenge?”
“Save some of Finn's bread for me, yeah?” Hobie leans his forehead atop yours. “I'm sorry.” His voice falters.
“Don't be, I'm glad I fell in that net.” You hold on to him for dear life. Etching his warmth in your brain so you remember it until you're cold. “I'd run towards that dock all over again if I had the chance again.”
It's the end, and you hold him close.
As you embrace each other, as your love is displayed for all to see, your warmth radiates through the crowd. You burn together with him.
Fire consumes and burns but it also lights the way.
The silence wraps around the city center, then, someone yells, pushing off the officer who has his gun aimed at your head. The people follow, rioting against their oppressors.
You both stare below in disbelief, hand cradling your head, he shields your eyes from seeing the violence unfold. Just when bullets hit flesh, and knives slash at necks, an explosion booms above.
Hobie holds onto you tighter, battered arms wrapped around you protectively as debris and smoke fills the whole place. The building across the palace is in flames, and from the billowing ashes out comes a familiar face.
Gwen takes off her hood, feet precariously standing on the ledge, then another form comes out of the smoke, Miles takes his stance next to the first mate, handing her a long rope.
“Holy shit! It's them!” Hobie exclaims, letting you see them with your own eyes.
You grin as you spot them above, “it's them,” you say in shock. A second later, they jump off the building effortlessly, guns raised as they land on their feet right next to the stage.
“I'll cover you!” Miles yells above the chaos as more and more buildings around the palace erupt in a chorus of explosions.
Gwen clambers next to you, relief on her face, hugging the two of you. Embracing back, she leans away to stare at you and her captain.
“You fucking idiots! I'd slap you over the head if I didn't love you both.”
“We love you too, Gwendy.” Hobie smiles amidst the aches.
“What he said, Gwendy.” You beam at her with overwhelming love.
“Love you too, now we need to get you out of here.”
“I have a ship docked somewhere, it's called the osprey. Take it and—” You start but Hobie and Gwen interrupt.
“You make it sound like you're not comin’ with us.”
“Y/N,” Gwen warns as she helps you two on your feet.
“I’m coming with—” a gun goes off.
Blood splatters across your faces. Crimson blooms across Gwen's stomach.
“...oh” she looks at you with her eyebrows knitted together, hand pressing on her belly. You catch Gwen in your arms as you feel the fear in you spread. She calls your name weakly.
Hobie stares at you with terrified eyes as he clutches the back of Gwen's head.
“No, no, don't speak—just… oh fuck!” You try to stop the bleeding by ripping a part of your gown to stuff it inside her wound. Ichor spills out of her like waterfalls. “I've got you!” She yells in pain and you simultaneously hear Miles scream.
Flicking your tear filled eyes over to Miles, he has his back on the ground, face contorted into pain whilst Mathias has his boot on his shooting hand. Miles still fights, kicking and scratching at the man's leg.
“This is what happens when you disrupt—” Red appears on his side as Hobie uses your fallen gun to shoot him where he has his foot crushing atop Miles’ hand. Mathias yelps in pain, a throaty sound escaping from his pale lips.
Hobie is filled with rage, embers flickering in him, turning into flames and then a blaze that burns his insides into ash.
Miles coughs as Mathias runs away towards the enormous church right next to the palace. He pushes away people, blood trailing behind him.
“Miles!” You yell, in your relief, he stands back up, weaving around people to clamber up the steps of the stage.
“I'm here!” He crawls over to Gwen, gently clutching her pale face. “Oh god no, please,” Miles looks at you. “Fix her, please.” Tears slide down his cheeks. “Please.”
You look towards Hobie, not knowing what to do, but said man is nowhere to be found. You briefly spot him running around the crowd, cutting down coppers swiftly with your father's gun and a stray cutlass, following after the man who has shot at his family.
Not again, you think, hands drenched once again in crimson. Not again, not again. You've failed once again.
Someone calls next to you, familiar hands holding yours.
“Tell us what to do.” Yuri thaws you out from your frozen state. Gwen gurgles, grip around your wrist weakening. James appears next to Yuri as you see in your peripheral the same mercenary and his men shooting at soldiers. Lyla cackles near them, adding her guild to the mix in the chaos. “Y/N,” Yuri calls again sternly. “We need you.”
With a sniff, you compose yourself, for Gwen. “Keep your hands on her wound, pack it with cloth then keep pushing.” Gwen groans, you look at her apologetically. “I know it hurts, I'm sorry but we need to do this. Let us do this.”
“I saw a doctor's clinic near here.” James pipes up, “if we take her there will you be able to save her?”
“Yes, we need to—”
Pavitr runs towards the group, guns raised, eyes full of rage once he sees Gwen. “No…” he says weakly. He fixes his composure, for Gwen. “James and I will cover you while the three of you carry Gwen.” He instructs, voice steady.
“No, no, no!” Gwen protests. “It hurts— I can't—”
“You can!” Miles beats you to it. “D’you remember what I told you when we realized Y/N and Hobie weren't behind us after we got attacked?” She nods weakly, lips bitten to stop her pained whimpers. “I meant it, Gwen. I meant all of it yet I haven't shown it because I'm a goddamn coward. Let me show you how much I love you, but I can't do that if you don't let us carry you. So please, let us carry you.”
Gwen smiles, icy eyes staring fondly at Miles. They have a wordless conversation, then Miles gives her a gentle peck on her forehead.
“As long as the d-doc here follows our captain.” She says.
“What—? No, you need me.” You shake your head.
“We already know what to do,” she winces, “you're the only person that can stop him, he'll die, Y/N. Meanwhile I've got a chance with them beside me. And he's all alone.”
You look at the others, they all nod and you blink in surprise. “But—”
“We have her, wifey.” Yuri smiles kindly at you. “This isn't our first bullet wound. Go and fetch our captain for us would ya?”
You have no time to think about it, so you choose what they instructed you to do. “Keep your hands on her and support her back—” your eyes find the familiar large man wearing your rubies. “Oi!” He pauses from crushing a soldier's arm. “Get a handful of your men and help them get to the doctor's!”
“Do I have to?” He asks, shrugging.
“Yes! I paid you!”
The man sighs then he gestures to a few of his people to climb up the stage. Before you let go of Gwen, you stare daggers at the men in the fake uniforms. “Keep all of them alive and I might just give you a piece of Hazelside.”
“Say no more, duchess, we got ‘em.”
“Gwen—” You take one last look over to her.
“Go, I don't plan on dying today.”
“You better. Meet us back at the ship.” You roam your eyes at the crew like it's the last time you would see them. With a nod towards Yuri, you slide your hands away quickly, Yuri replaces the space you left with her own.
Wordlessly you turn away from them. You fight yourself from looking back. Running away towards Hobie, you hope that it's not too late.
Weaving through the crowd, dodging bullets and swords, you keep your head down and keep your eyes forward at the grand church waiting ahead. The spires are tall and sharp, reminding you of the dragons that rose up from the sea and blocked out the moon. Gargoyles decorate the roofs, all stone and eyes large, mouths agape, unmoving.
You lift the skirt of your tattered gown, it might be covered in blood but the white colour of it is a stark contrast to the dark chaos surrounding you. It acts as a beacon to the people as they see you in their ranks, a noble in their eyes that bears gold and silver around her neck and sleeves. Someone who fought everyone just to get to her pirate captain, they find it in themselves to continue fighting. A few even helps you get to your destination by blocking any guards or soldiers from laying their hands on you.
Smoke in your lungs, steel clanging against steel. Blades slashing at limbs, people screaming in all directions, both with rank and without, they all end up in the same fate. You run through the blood soaked field.
Feet sprinting across the field, people are few and far in between once you get nearer and nearer towards the church. Hands on the large doors, you push the heavy oak to no avail. It's locked, the evidence of it is the rattling noise it makes as you shake it in desperation.
Hobie's in there, and you'd do anything to get to him.
You go around the structure to find a window that's big enough for you to slither into. But all the stained glass windows are too high up for you to reach even if you try to break one. Losing hope, you turn a corner towards the back. You finally breathe when you see a wooden door. Without wasting time, you push it open with your shoulder, shoving it, the rust covered hinges creak with your strength. And finally, it bursts open with one final push.
The sight alone made you stop in your tracks. Clutching your dagger, a finely dressed man lays dead in a pool of blood. A sword embedded in his back, a cracked crown sitting next to his bloodied head. The person standing over the king is none other than his own wife, her face isn't one of sadness but of sheer happiness as she grins at her husband's dead body. Blood dripping off her royal hands, she lifts her head to gaze upon you.
“Hello, little bird, you finally made it.” Caroline stands in front of the altar, the kaleidoscope of lights from the glass windows acts as her spotlight. Her gown is in rich velvet, furs covering her shoulder. And a large tiara on top of her intricate powdered wig.
“You killed him.” Gripping your dagger tighter, you stay away from the bloody queen.
“I did,” Caroline giggles, a sound that sends shivers through your spine. “You look marvelous in your wedding gown by the way. A shame that you didn't get married to that fine young man.” Her voice echoes around the large church, its ceilings are high and painted with saints. They look down at you, eyes lifeless. “Lieutenant.” She calls and the man answers, coming out of the shadows and into the pews. “Do me a favour and kill her for me.”
The disheveled man walks over to you, hand still decorated by your bite.
“Why don't you kill me yourself? Like how you killed your husband.” You address the woman, taunting her.
The queen raises a hand and the navy man stops immediately. She smiles and takes the sword out of her husband's body with ease, then she steps over his body without remorse.
“With pleasure.” She unclasps her cloak, the heavy cloth thuds against the marble. “If I couldn't kill your mother personally, I'd settle for killing you instead.”
“What the fuck—!” The queen arches her sword, thankfully you parry it with your dagger. You know you'll lose in the duel with your smaller weapon against hers and her swordsmanship. A yell echoes from above, a distinct scream from who you hope is from Mathias.
“I wasn't lying when I said you remind me of her!” She slashes, right foot pointed towards you, dodging the sharp edge, the heels of your feet hit a pew, then you fall backwards, back and elbows hitting the hardwood. “But she wasn't much of a fighter just like you!” Her eyes are ablaze as you scramble away.
“Why are you doing this?!” Your voice carries off around the church. “You said you were friends!”
Raising your dagger to shield your face when she tries to slash at your chest, she stands atop you, knee right next to your thigh, leg perching her up. Steel dangerously close to your face, wrists aching from her push, you take your free hand to grip the sharp edge of your dagger to combat her own strength. You feel the knife dig into your palm.
“Why?” The queen cackles, leaning her mad face close. “Because she's the reason why I'm here, she's the reason why that man has ruined me until I couldn't even recognize myself—!”
Lifting your legs, bending your knees, you kick her right in her chest. Making her lose her balance, face falling flat on the marble floors. You take the opportunity to crawl and stand up, sprinting away from her. As you bolt off towards the altar, and towards the door to the bell tower, the stairs are within your reach, but Caroline yanks you by your skirt. You fall off the steps of the altar, body and dagger sliding off the smooth marble.
Groaning, she points her weapon towards your neck, taking your mother's necklace by her blade. “Why did you kill them? For revenge?” You ask, vision blurring from the way your head hit the floor. Everything aches in you, but you continue to fight.
“No, for the satisfaction of them being dead.” She eyes the golden necklace and you glare at her. “She was meant to take the crown, not me. Instead she ignored her duty and ran off with a bastard, and I was forced to marry that fucking beast!” Her voice booms, the saints above look down at the chaos. “Forced to carry his children, children I never wanted but loved nonetheless. Children that I never saw grow up because they were taken from me the second they came out of me!” Her hand shakes around the sword.
You slyly inch your hand towards your dagger that's only a hair width away from your fingertips. You let her continue as the tears in her eyes fall on your bloodied face.
“I never wanted to be queen, all I've ever wanted was to see the world. Your mother took that away from me, and now her daughter is living my fucking dream! The second I knew you were alive I wanted to wring your fucking neck. To hurt you just like her choices had on me.” She twists her sword so the blunt edge is kissing your neck, torture, she's planning on sawing your head off with the blunt edge. “If she can't pay, I'd settle for making you hurt instead.”
“You want to kill me because of what happened decades ago? You're fucking mad if you think sins are passed from parent to child! I never knew them!” You fight back despite the blade near your neck. “Do you understand that you caused the same pain to me that the king has caused you? Whatever you want to call it, it's still revenge!” Caroline pushes the cutlass closer, so close that you can feel it in your throat, choking you. “You're blaming the wrong people for your misfortune, blame the people who used you, who said yes to his every whim, not the couple who only wanted to marry the one they love!”
“I’m the victim here—!”
“You are, but who points the sword towards the innocent?” She blinks, lips wobbling. “Look at you, Mathias told me you're brilliant, but you never thought this part through, haven't you? What do you think the nobles of the land will do to you the moment they hear of your regicide? Who will they blame? Me, who bears the mark of your cruelty? Or you, who has the king's blood on your golden hands?”
You distract her enough to finally reach the dagger, swiftly, you plunge it to the nearest part of her that you can manage, her thigh. She screams in agony, sword and crown clanging loudly on the floor. The once favoured queen clutches her wound that's gushing blood, seeping out of her velvet dress and spilling over the white marble.
Unexpectedly, she cries as she desperately wraps her skirt around the gushing wound. You clamber up to your feet, eyes flitting over the stoic man when Caroline calls for him to kill you where you stand. He doesn't move from his position near the confessionals.
“Are you gonna fight me too? An eye for an eye?” You ask, hands shaking while you bend down for your crimson drenched dagger.
“No, your father and I are even.” The simple words turn your eyes the same shade as the fluid pooling around the queen.
“You're just gonna stand there?” You ask while Caroline's wails echo around the expansive church.
“I'm waiting for you to leave so I can help her.” He seems to be unbothered. A scream rings out from above, louder than the woman's screams. Alarm bells trigger in your mind. “Sounds like someone needs your help.”
“Don't follow me,” you threaten, knife pointed at him as you slither towards the door. “Don't help your captain.”
“Alexander!” She screams for the lieutenant.
“You're right, he's already dead anyway, not my problem anymore.” His eye follows you, “Good luck, duchess.”
With one look towards the mysterious man, you get a glimpse of him crouching next to the woman, hands casually tamping down the rushing blood. Locking the door behind you, you run once again.
The winding spiral staircase seems to go up forever, hand clutching your dagger, you don't even feel the pain in your ankles anymore. Numbness flashes over you for a second, but you carry on. The walls get smaller and tighter as you go on, the stone scratches your hands, the small windows barely provide any light for you. The sounds of struggle get louder, so you speed off with the last of your strength.
Rushing, you make it to the top where Mathias has his hands wrapped around Hobie's neck, with no ounce of hesitation, you plunge your dagger in the devil's flesh, right in between his clavicle.
With a shriek, Mathias lets go of Hobie. Your captain gasps for air, clutching his neck. You wrap your hands around his shoulders, relief washing over you just from seeing him breathe.
“I have you!” Holding his face, you thank the stars that he holds you back with his warm hands.
Hobie utters your name softly, “You have a habit of savin’ me, eh, scuttlebutt?” He smiles at you even with his left eye swelling, even with his mouth full of ichor.
You grin, getting him back to his feet. “The others are waiting—!” A large hand picks you up, wrapping a thick arm around your waist, the other is holding your own weapon in his cracked knuckles. Your own blade is placed harshly against your throat.
A trickle of blood drips from your flesh, and Hobie has the same look back on the revenge. Terrified, the swirling greys of his eyes are mortified at the scene in front of him.
Mathias still lives despite the laceration on his neck, despite his life rushing off of him in waves. He stands precariously on the edge of the tower, his back against the sea, the waves lapping against the cliffs below. He holds you tight as a noose when the wind rushes from behind.
There's a bout of silence hanging in between, Hobie's breath hitches in his throat at your fearful face.
“Don't—” Hobie's voice is broken, pleading desperately. “Please,” Not again, not again. The words scream at him. Not her, never her. “Take me instead.”
Mathias gurgles a response. “Just like old times, eh?”
As the blade kisses your neck, you could only look at Hobie. The copper bell is hanging behind him, large and magnificent, and he stands there with his hand desperately reaching towards you, his gun holds no bullets, sword lay broken in half near his feet.
It's the end, but he declines for it to end, for your life to end at hands of the same man that ended his old love three years ago.
He thinks fate is cruel, he thinks the fates hate him. He thinks his life is a Greek tragedy that was waiting to be written for the fates’ entertainment. He refuses to give them the ending they wanted.
You know it's the end, but it doesn't have to be the end for him too.
There's no other option, no other hope but, "No more sacrifices." You whisper to him even though you know he couldn't hear you, at the same time, you whisper an apology to him.
Images of the past six months flashes in your mind. Images of the tavern you once called home, images of the ship you still call your home. Images of the people you've come to love, images of your island and the sand in between your toes, and the sun on your back. Images of Hobie smiling down at you, images of him holding you close as you cry in his arms.
Images of you learning to love him.
You love him and all his sharp edges, all his anger and all his warmth. You loved him, and that's all that matters in life. To love someone so wholeheartedly that it burrows into your bones and digs deep into your marrows, never letting go. You loved him, and he's worth it for what you're about to do. To be loved back is a gift that he graciously granted you, you intend to cherish it until your end.
You call his name like the softest of silk wrapped around your tongue. "Hobie," and you smile at him, letting your smile tell him that he wasn't born to be a knife, letting your smile tell him that you love him more than the moon loves the tides.
He whispers back your name, pleading with you, for he knows you more than he knows himself, and he knows what you're about to do.
With a loop of your foot around Mathias' ankle, you pull hard, then you let yourself fall backwards.
“Alis volat propriis” You softly say, prying the knife from Mathias’ hand.
And fly you did.
Fear encapsulates him as you fall, the same fear flows out of you like spring water as you plunge into the dark depths.
Hobie refuses to look, frozen on the spot, unblinking eyes still staring at the space you left. His heart feels like it's about to give out as he says your name over and over again like a mantra.
He's a knife meant to grieve.
Slowly, his feet move for him. Body stiff, he makes it to the ledge. Grief stricken eyes darting below, he lets out a guttural wail that carries on with the wind.
Clutching his broken heart, he falls to his knees. He keeps repeating your name as he stares at the bubbles rising up on the surface, the waves deliver seafoam on the beach below, and with it, hope still clings to him.
“No,” A sob breaks through when you don't emerge a second later. “...no, c'mon scuttlebutt, don't fuckin' leave me.”
Grief rolls over his skin like tiny pinpricks of sorrow puncturing his insides and into his scarred heart. Your face flashes in front of him, and the voice inside him asks, 'will it be bad if you follow?'
“Brown?” A familiar voice calls behind him, Hobie whirls around, grief evident on his face, Miguel already knows what happend. He shakes his bloody head profusely, “where's— where is she?”
Hobie doesn't answer, he turns back towards the sea. Agony filling his very being as he stares below.
“No!” Miguel follows Hobie's eyes. And then he screams for you. He searches for you under the waves.
Hobie lays his head on the wall of the bell tower. A minute, it's been a minute since you fell, yet no sign of a body has floated up. The sky is still calm, the sun still shines, yet, you don't resurface.
He blinks away when he sees fingers reaching amongst the waves. “Did you see that?” Praying, praying to any deity out there that is listening to him, he prays that his mind isn't playing a cruel joke on him.
“What?”
Hobie stands up, taking Miguel's face to turn it towards the waters. Something moves under the seafoam, someone moves under the seafoam.
His heart picks up speed, and he rushes down the stairs. Miguel follows close by, their feet thudding loudly on the stairs. They ignore the various pains in their body, what matters is you, and they intend to get to your side as quickly as possible.
They go through the broken door that Miguel kicked, and they run over a puddle of blood without a body. Sprinting outside, the sea breeze greets them. They don't stop for anyone or anything, even though the palace burns to the ground behind them, even though the heat from the melting golden gates sears their backs. They continue downward towards the path to the beach.
Hobie trips on a rock, Miguel helps him up swiftly.
From the tides, you rise once more.
Heaving from the swim, drenched and sore. You grin at the two men rushing towards you. Like the waves lapping at your feet, relief washes over them.
You raise your arms in time just before Hobie crashes his body to yours. His face finds safety in the crook of your neck. Arms holding you tight and comfortable, he breaths you in, taking a deep shuddering breath. You smell like the sea. He can't believe you're alive, can't believe that you're back in his arms.
“I lost the dagger,” you say against his cheek as you press cold kisses on his skin.
“I'll get you a new one.” Tears flow out of his eyes, he feels like he's dreaming, he feels like fate has finally granted him reprieve. “I’ll get you a hundred more, fuck that, a thousand more if you asked.”
“I just want one.” You chuckle.
“I'll get you one then.” Hobie peels himself off you, fingers roaming your face, the heel of his hand is placed atop your pulse, making sure he didn't fall off the tower himself. “You're alive.” He says breathlessly, “you fuckin' swam!”
“I had a good teacher.” You say as you hold him tenderly. “He's dead, it's over, Hobie.” Salty tears in your lashes, he pulls you in for another hug. Eyes closed, you savour the calmness with the sound of the rushing sea behind you, knowing that Mathias lays beneath its waves with your dagger embedded in his eye. “It's over, and I'm alright.”
Holding your hand towards Miguel who sits on his knees on the sand, eyes glowing with consolation. You flex your hand towards him so he could hold your hand. He stands up, taking it willingly, squeezing once like how he held your parents’ hands once upon a time.
Miguel nods proudly at you, gently pressing a gentle kiss on your knuckles, he gives you and Hobie space. You mouth a thank you towards the man.
—
“Shit!” James exclaims, jumping up and down on the docks. “Look at her! She's magnificent!”
“Spell ‘magnificent’, James.” Yuri taunts.
“Don't ruin this for me!” He turns towards you, grinning from ear to ear like a child in a sugar shop. “You're actually giving us this ship?”
“Mm-hmm—” before you could finish nodding, James sprints off towards the fine ship. Yuri winks at you before she follows behind James.
The sun slowly sets, bathing the waters in pink and orange light. James isn't wrong, the ship is magnificent. It's bigger than the black hellion, much bigger. Two crow's nests sit at the highest point of the masts. The body is well maintained, oak still shining in the late afternoon sun. Silver violets and hazelnuts decorate the sides, a reminder of what could've been.
Looking at your new home, you shift your gaze to Hobie, knowing wherever he is, as long as you're with him, you're home.
Your tired eyes flick over the figurehead of an osprey with its wings outstretched around the head of the ship. Hobie taps your head with his own gently.
“It needs some work done.”
You chuckle as you fix your hold on him. Still in your wedding gown, skin still smelling like the sea, you move impossibly closer to him. You're both winded, but Hobie has sustained more injuries than you and needed more help in standing up straight. “Do you think we should change the name?”
“Love,” he turns his head towards you, his smile almost makes you kiss him right there and then. “I think I've got a few ideas, for now let's get the fuck out of here.”
“Alright— wait, where's Gwen?”
“Here, worry much, landlubber?” She asks on her stretcher. Miles, Pavitr and an unknown blond man carry her.
“Well you were shot, Gwendy, I think I have every right to be worried.”
“I'm fine now, can't even feel a thing!” She smiles and you recognize her state.
“I think that's the medication talking.” You eye the stranger, “and who might you be?”
“Oi,” Hobie points at the man. “You better not cause any trouble Stacy.”
You lightly gasp, finally noticing the resemblance.
“Not planning on causing any, captain.” Gwen's father smiles and gives you a curt nod.
“Can we hurry the chit chat?” Miles groans.
“You telling me I'm too heavy, Morales?” Gwen teases but the fatigue must've taken a toll on Miles as he takes it seriously.
“W-what? Of course not!”
“You calling my daughter heavy?” Her father jokes back. They're father and daughter alright.
“No! Let's just get on the ship.” Miles pouts, you send him a smile, wordlessly giving him your thanks. He shakes his head, hiding his grin in reply.
“Pav!” You call after Pavitr, “tea later?”
He beams at you, happiness almost blinding you. “Hell yeah!” Jaunting happily, he practically skips off, to Gwen's protest, who still lays on the gurney, shakes from his little dance.
Miguel taps your shoulder, Hobie lets you go so you could hug the man.
“Room for one more?” He asks while patting your back.
Leaning away, your eyes widen, smile widening. “What!”
“I meant for Lyla, kid.” Miguel laughs, smile lines appearing.
“Oh, you're not coming with us?” Disappointment is evident in your voice.
“No, sorry. Maybe one day. I've got unfinished business” He holds your shoulders, “you better take care or I'll chase you again.”
“Oh god, don't say that!” You giggle whilst he mirrors your smile. “If you're not coming, then you can have this back.” Taking off the locket, you place it in his rough palms. “A reminder of them,” you close his fingers around the gold. “Besides, I already have his gun. You deserve something of theirs too.”
The sun shines in his eyes. “This was Gabriella’s, she gifted it to your mother when she got sick. It's a family heirloom.”
“She was Gabriella's godmother, wasn't she?”
“Yes, and your father was her godfather.”
You tap his hand. “It's back in the right hands then.”
“Thank you,” Miguel sniffs, neck craning towards Hobie who sits on a crate. “And you,” Hobie dramatically points at himself. “Take care of my goddaughter, or I'll come after you again.”
Hobie, smirks, “aye, aye, admiral.” He mocks a salute.
Miguel shoots you a look, “you sure about that one?”
You gaze at Hobie, your Hobie. “I'm sure.” He winks at you and you wink back.
“God, I gotta let you go before I get sick.” You chortle as Miguel hugs you one last time. Pressing a kiss on the crown of your head, he nods once, staring at your face, seeing his friends’ faces in yours, saying goodbye to the three of you. “Be good, I'll see you in the sea.”
“Looking forward to it, uncle. Don't get caught by the coppers.” He lets you go with a laugh, unhitching his horse and then getting on, he rides off.
Lyla suddenly appears from the dust with a big grin on her face, she carries suitcases upon suitcases in her arms. “Where to, captain?” She asks you.
“Not the captain, he is.” You gesture towards Hobie who doesn't even correct Lyla. He just waves at her with a small shrug.
“I thought whoever owned the boat was the captain, anyway! Off to adventure!” She cackles into the sunset, feet thudding loudly as she hurls all her luggage on the ship. You vaguely hear someone yell ‘who the fuck are you?!’
You ignore it for now, how could you not when Hobie stares at you so sweetly that you prefer this than chocolate?
“She's not wrong y’know.” He says whilst you saunter towards him. Stretching his legs, he gives you space to stand in between them.
“Are you planning on giving me your title, captain?” You tease, sliding your hands up and down his arms. His own is wrapped around your middle, staring up at you with endearment.
“You're already a captain,” you raise an eyebrow, tilting your head. He sighs, so full of love for the woman in his arms. “of my heart—”
“I knew you would say that!” You laugh, feeling like the weight off your shoulders has finally turned into dust. And he feels like the fish bone stuck in his throat is finally gone.
Hobie smiles softly at you, heart shaped grey eyes full of life. “Are you sure about this? Stayin’ I mean.”
You squeeze the back of his neck, already missing how his hair would tickle your palms. But you love him even with his scruffy head. He looks handsome with or without it, you'll never tell him or his ego would implode. At least now you get the pleasure of seeing it grow, you can't help but press a sickeningly sweet kiss atop his head.
The sound of the anchors getting lifted up fills your ears so you lean closer for him to hear your words better.
“I'll stay as long as you want me too.”
“Forever then?”
“Forever.” You kiss the tip of his nose. “Until I'm cold, you can't escape me.”
Hobie has a lopsided smile on his lips, grey eyes aglow with affection. “You're still in your white dress,” you raise an eyebrow. “Y’know what that means—” Lifting you up like a bride, he carries you towards the ship as you yelp and giggle in his arms. “Off to our honeymoon then!”
As the sun sets, you set off to new beginnings. You've found where you belong, you've finally found home.
A/N: And it's done!! Thank you all so much for reading, interacting and genuinely showing your support whether it's by making fanart or sending your thoughts, I'm forever grateful for all of them!! Love you ❤️
Already missing the crew? They'll be back for Between the Devil and the Sea Book 2!! You can check out my ☕ page for a lil sneak peek!
#bdas#between the devil and the sea#between the devil and the sea chap 15#between the devil and the sea series#the kr8tor's creations#hobie brown x reader#spider punk x reader#atsv fanfic#atsv x reader#atsv hobie#hobie brown x fem!reader#spider punk x fem!reader#hobie brown x you#pirate au#pirate! hobie#pirate hobie x reader#pirate! hobie brown#cw food mention#tw death#tw blood#cw gore#cw violence#cw injury#hobie x reader#hobie fluff#hobie angst#if you're looking at the tags to take a sneak peek at the ending i caught u lol 😆#fanfic
171 notes
·
View notes
Text
Tell Me How You Really Feel | Dick Grayson x Fem!Reader
↳ Pairing : Dick Grayson x Fem!Reader
↳ Rating : T
↳ Summary : You're a new Titan and the stern and serious team leader Dick Grayson treats you like you don’t exist. Convinced that he hates you, you confront him about what his issue with you truly is.
↳ W.C : ~2.1K
↳ Tags: fluff, misunderstandings, aggressively shy boy dick, mild language, this is Titans DC!verse y'all, dickkory hasn't happened yet, there’s some mild Jason Todd x Reader in here if you squint.
Titans Tower had never been more festive. Gold foil streamers hung along the rafters, Gar’s disco lights spun across the dimly lit common room, and Jason’s playlist boomed on their surround sound speakers. Everyone had now abandoned the living room and gathered in the kitchen, party hats and all, but you lingered behind scrolling through your phone.
As much as being a Titan was hard work, they always made sure to take time to celebrate holidays and birthdays. And after officially becoming a Titan, you were thankful to have friends who actually cared about you, a team who had your back.
You smiled at the camera roll full of pictures you had snapped with the team: one with a big bear hug from Dawn, another of you happily sandwiched in between Conner and Gar, a selfie with Jason, and one of Rachel, Kory, and you making silly faces. When you flipped to a shot of you and the man of the hour, Dick Grayson, you paused with a frown.
Hank had ushered you and Dick together for a picture, but you knew he was just trying to get you two to get along. It was no secret that everyone could notice the weird tension the team leader had with their new recruit, but Hank was probably the only one bold enough to voice it out loud.
“How about one with birthday boy, new kid?” Hank snatched your phone from your hands and dragged Dick over by the arm. He hadn’t so much as looked your direction the whole day; in fact, it was like you didn’t even exist to him. You got used to it over time, but it was even worse when others pointed it out.
“Get closer together,” The brawny man insisted from behind the camera but neither of you moved. Hank lowered the phone and gave you a desperately pointed look. You took a small step closer to Dick and you could feel him tense up.
“Dick who fucking peed in your cereal today? It’s your birthday act like it.” You glanced up at the man everyone referred to as leader next to you briefly. He looked like he would rather be anywhere but next to you.
“Smile,” Hank said, which was rather ironic since it seemed he was the only one smiling.
You felt mortified seeing the picture now juxtaposed with the scene in the kitchen in front of you. In the picture, Dick looked uncomfortable—angry even—that he had to even stand next to you let alone take a picture with you. But in the kitchen, however, he stood in front of a birthday cake ready to blow out the candles, smiling at everybody but you.
Jason, who had come to the living room to pause his playlist, raised an eyebrow at you. “You coming for the cake or you just gonna stare into space all day?”
You nodded, breaking yourself out of your thoughts. He gave you a weird look, begging an answer but a short “Sorry,” was all you could give him before following the teen into the kitchen.
Kory latched onto your arm, giving it a squeeze when you joined their circle around the table. “Dick was just singing our praises, you almost missed it.”
“Yea, he was getting all sappy on us,” Gar piped up to tease. “‘Gar, you’re like a brother to me,’” he quoted dramatically before pretending to gag.
You cracked a smile at the green-haired boy. He always knew how to make everyone laugh. When your eyes flashed over to your team leader, you saw that he was smiling too. You envied that smile that he gave so easily to others. When your eyes met briefly, he looked away almost immediately and that smile turned into something like a grimace.
You frowned and looked away too. One look at you had stolen every bit of joy away from him in that split second. More than being sad, you were embarrassed. It was like he didn’t even think you deserved to be looked at, like you didn’t deserve your place as a Titan.
Jason looked from you to Dick and scratched his head in frustrated confusion. Rachel broke the silence by clearing her throat. “Anyway, how about some cake—”
“No wait, Rach I’m really curious.” Jason finally spoke up. “He still needs to tell us what he thinks about us. All of us.”
Jason stared at the elder Wayne brother with an intensity that rivaled their previous spats. If there was one thing Jason hated, it was authority and unfairness. And to Jason, Dick’s ignoring you was an extremely biased assertion of his role as leader.
“Here we go,” Rachel said rolling her eyes. “Can’t we ever have one birthday party without arguing?”
“No actually, the kid’s right!” Hank raised his voice, gesticulating towards you as if you weren’t even in the room. “Hey, what the hell’s your problem with her?”
Dawn put her head in her hands with a groan. “I can’t believe we’re doing this right now.”
Dick’s eyes were now boring into yours, jaw set with a clench. You stared back, eyes threatening to spill tears at all the unwanted attention now turning towards you in the room. He redirected his attention back to Jason.
“If you must know, Jason. I think you’re a huge pain in the ass.” Dick smirked, bringing back some levity into the room. You could feel the tension in the room relax and everyone seemed relieved for it.
“Ok, we knew that,” Jason continued exasperatedly, “And?” He motioned for the elder to continue, nodding his head toward you rather unsubtly.
“A-And—” He faltered in his speech, flickering his gaze at you. “She’s—” He blinked in surprise when your gazes met and quickly looked down, unwilling to continue.
That was enough for you. You didn’t want to stick around anymore. Not when you could feel tears already escaping down your cheek. You tore away from the table, wiping the wetness from your face furiously.
“Y/N!” Jason called after you only to be held back by Gar.
You slammed the door and locked it behind you, throwing yourself on the bed. Now you knew what your team leader really thought of you, and it was absolutely nothing, nothing at all. You didn’t mean anything to him. You weren’t a friend and even much less a teammate. What was the point of being part of a team, if the team leader hated your existence? What was the point of all that training if he never even let you do anything? You were excluded from most missions and left to stay behind because it was “too dangerous”. At this point, you were about as important to him as a plastic bag.
A knock came at the door. You curled into your pillow even more. It was probably Dick being forced to apologize to you.
He knocked again and you felt the anger in your chest rising. You suddenly had the urge to tell him off. Fuck the fact that he was technically your superior. You had so much patience due to your poor upbringing that you had let his mistreatment slide. You thought that was just how things were as part of a team and you just had to deal with it. But now that even the team was calling him out on it, you couldn’t ignore it any further.
You opened the door to find Dick standing outside, arm still outstretched in mid-knock. He blinked back his surprise and settled back into the neutral “leader-like” expression you hated so much.
“We need to talk. Can I come in?” He waited for you to respond. Upon seeing your angry glare, he took a short inhale. “Please Y/N.”
Your heart stuttered against your will. It had been the first time he’d addressed you by name and there was something else stirring in his eyes. His face wore a vulnerability you’d never seen on him before. You stepped aside warily, letting him in.
When the door closed behind you, you spun around wildly to face him.
“What the fuck is your problem with me, Grayson? Why do you hate me so much? What did I ever do to you—” You hated the fact that you were tearing up again.
“I don’t hate you.” He cut in lamely. When your eyes met, he held your gaze briefly breaking to looking off to the side again.
“See? What the fuck? You can barely even look at me. Hank had to force you to even stand next to me. How the hell am I supposed to be a part of this team if the leader can’t even pretend to like me? Just admit you can’t fucking stand me.” You continued airing your grievances out at him, growing more agitated at the man’s silence. “Fucking say something!”
“I don’t hate you,” He said again, jaw set sternly. He took a step forward, and you took a step back. “I don’t want to look at you.” Another step. Another step back.
“W-what?” Your back was at the door, and he was now standing—towering— over you.
“I don’t want to stand next to you.”
“I…don’t understand.” You furrowed your brow in confusion, searching his eyes for the meaning behind his words. His professional poise had disappeared and was replaced with something else—something darker. Nothing made sense anymore; He said he didn't want to stand next to you, but you were now practically breathing the same air.
“And you’re right. I can’t fucking stand you.”
You flinched at his words. Admittedly, you had been cursing at him the whole time since he’d entered your room, but he rarely cursed, and hearing him repeat your words back at you gave you pause.
You tried to move but he kept you caged in on either side of his arms. You had enough; you heard enough, and now you just wanted him gone. Once he was out of your room, you could resign yourself to ignoring each other for the rest of your time on the team. Fuck him.
“Thanks. I got it the first time so just let me go.” You were hurt, and whenever you tried to mask your feelings, sarcasm came out as a defense mechanism. When he didn’t budge to let you move, you pushed against his chest. “Let me go, Grayson,” you applied more pressure to his chest as a warning. You wouldn’t hesitate to use your powers to make him move.
Dick leaned back, allowing for more space between you. You caught your breath, relishing the newfound breathing space. Instead of letting you go fully, he circled your right wrist keeping it at his chest. You felt his heartbeat erratically pulsing under your palm.
“I can’t be near you. I…I can’t even hear myself think.” He spoke a little quieter now, splaying his fingers flat against your hand deepening the pressure on his chest. His heart was beating faster now. “That’s all I can fucking hear.” Seeing that you got the point he was referring to his heartbeat, he released your hand. You watched his throat bob as he swallowed thickly. His face looked flushed.
“I can barely look at you because then…you’d probably notice.” He mumbled the last part but you heard him quite clearly. He looked more boyish than ever as he stood before you.
“I’d probably notice…?” You trailed off, hoping he would continue. You were curious mostly not as to what he would say, but how he would say it.
“Don’t make me say it, Y/N” Dick grimaced again. You had come to know this look as disdain, but with the man’s revelation, you were beginning to see that expression in a new light. He looked more embarrassed than anything, and now the tips of his ears began to burn a bright red. Holy Shit. This is what Dick Grayson was like when he had a crush.
“I can’t pretend to like you because…I already like you. Like a lot. I can’t stop thinking about you-mmph“
You pulled him down by the collar and into a kiss. His initial surprise from your sudden interruption melted into passion as he deepened it, hungrily grasping at your waist to pull you closer to him.
You stopped kissing him for a moment to stare seriously up at him. “What about for missions? You never let me come.” You were beginning to put 2 and 2 together for all the other stuff like the times he would make that weird face at you, or avoid you completely. But you still couldn’t see why, as an active member he wouldn’t let you participate in missions.
“You,” He said simply. He was looking at you fondly now, eyelids languid and lazy as his thumbs rubbed circles into your waist.
“What about me?”
“You’re distracting.” His gaze flitted to your lips, “To me specifically.” He added, looking at you with such an innocent honesty that you could only partly contain your laugh.
“You’re such a fucking idiot,” You groaned feigning annoyance. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”
“Tell me how you really feel.” He grinned dumbly into your lips as you pulled him down into another kiss.
©️ blackreaderfics // credit to cafekitsune for the dividers
#i started this w smut in mind but ended up with fluff lol#I’ll get there hopefully 🤞🏾#brfwrites#dick grayson x reader#dick grayson x you#nightwing x reader#titans dc#dick grayson x female!reader
920 notes
·
View notes
Text
pizza time!
or the one time satoru tries to make pizza from scratch and is effectively banned from trying ever again
a/n: hi friends !! enjoy this little one shot inspired by somewhat of a true story, sort of meshed two things that happened to me together LOL hope u guys enjoy !! :3
wordcount: 1,470
masterlist
“‘toru? you home?” you ask, placing your keys on the keyholder and slipping your shoes off, sighing in relief as you walk further into your shared home. you can hear soft music coming from the kitchen as you step closer, smiling when it finally comes into view.
“well hello handsome,” you whisper, making him smile and turn around, flour on the tip of his nose. you wipe it off gently, kissing his nose right after you do.
“hey pretty,” he grins, catching your lips in his, dimples on full display from the second he saw you, “how was your day?” he asks, listening intently to your every word.
“what are you trying to make by the way?” you ask, brows furrowed as you see the packs of yeast and flour on the kitchen counter.
“pizza dough! i was thinking we can make it from scratch, have a little pizza date tonight?” the excitement in his voice is enough to make you perk up, grinning at the idea.
“that sounds amazing angel boy,” you smile, “let me change out of this and we can start, yeah?” satoru nods excitedly, continuing to set out the ingredients you two would need.
when you come back to the kitchen there’s three bowls full of cloudy water and no pizza dough in sight. instead there’s a defeated white haired man sitting on the floor, hunched over replaying a YouTube video.
“‘toru?” you ask, stifling your laughter as you walk into the kitchen. he looks up at you, blue eyes sparkling at you, a pout evident on his lips.
“it won’t bubble! i added in warm water and sugar and it’s not working,” he huffs, standing up and handing you the packet, “look they don’t even give directions!” he groans.
you inspect the packet closely, biting your lip to hold back a smile. “satoru this is active yeast, you know that right?”
“those words mean nothing to me, sweetheart.”
“you don’t have to add water to this, you just add this into whatever you’re making,” you state, watching as his frustration faded into one of astonishment and soon into a blushing mess.
“they should really put that on the packets,” he mumbles, throwing out the bowls of ruined yeast and changing the video on his phone to a different one.
“okay let me see how much flour we have to add” he mumbles, looking at the back of the bag before grabbing the scale. he’s cautious at first, adding bit by bit before losing patience. the scale goes from 30g of flour to 300g in a couple seconds.
“satoru!” you gasp, laughing as you attempt to put some of the flour back into the bag, satoru giggling as he adds the water into the flour.
“watch and learn angel boy,” you grin, grabbing the bag and pouring the flour in, stopping after a couple seconds, the scale reading an even 250g. there’s a smug grin on your face and satour wants nothing than to kiss it off your face.
he rolls his eyes, “yeah, yeah whatever,” he mumbles, adding the rest of the things he needed into the mixture before mixing with with a wooden spoon, following the exact movements on the lady in the video he was watching.
the soft music filled the comfortable silence between the two of you, only occasional comments or jokes being the conversation between the two of you as you covered the dough, setting an timer for two hours to let it rise.
the two of you plop on the couch, giggling when satoru pulls you into his lap with ease, kissing your shoulder before resting his chin.
“god i missed you,” he mumbles, voice a bit muffled by your shirt.
“i was only gone for a couple hours,” you smile, wiggling so you could face your boyfriend without hurting your neck too much. there’s a pout on his lips and you can faintly see his dimples.
“still too long,” he frowns, “wanna spend every moment of my life with you.” there’s no point in hiding the huge smile on your face as you raise your brows at him.
“do you now?” you giggle, he only smiles widely back, dimples on full display now, peppering kisses over your face as he hums in agreement.
“can’t imagine a life without you baby,” his tone is soft and comforting, you can’t help but melt at his words, kissing him softly.
you both smile into the kiss, giggles filling the room as he tells you of his day.
the two hours seem to fly by, your timer going off before the two of you knew it, heading to the the kitchen and rolling out the dough. you both mold the dough into hearts satoru arranging his pepperonis into a smiley face, grinning proudly as he showed off his creation.
you can’t suppress the yawn that escapes your lips, blinking away tears as you try and wake yourself up, willing yourself to at least finish off the toppings before you take a nap.
“go take a nap sweets, i can handle two measly pizzas” satoru smiles, “the ovens already preheated too!” you’re hesitant, satoru is quick to pick you up and throw you over his shoulder, already heading towards the bedroom and paying you down.
“you do know which trays to use right?” you ask, worry etched on your face as he rolls his eyes. “yes sweetheart i know the ones.”
you’re about to open your mouth again when he’s placing a kiss to your lips, pulling the blanket over you and walking out, “have a good nap pretty!”
it takes a mere three minutes for you to knock out, deep in your sleep when you swear you smell something burning.
you try to ignore it, chalking it up to your paranoia. but the smell seems to get more intense as you stir awake.
you’re eyes are still a bit hazy when you sit up, rubbing the sleep out of them as you open the bedroom door, the smell hitting you full force.
“oh my god what happened?” you shriek, walking quickly to the windows and opening them full, trying your best to clear the living room out of the smoke.
“i may or may not have forgotten about the pizzas” satoru smiled at you nervously, the two burnt pizzas sitting sadly on the kitchen counter. no tray in sight.
“where’s the tray?” you asked, satoru’s eyes widened, face flushed as he chuckled.
“you look so beautiful today, did i tell you that?” he smiles. you only cross your arms over your chest, making him frown a bit as he points at the oven.
the tray he grabbed was not the metal one he thought it was.
the plastic was melted, the only parts not completely destroyed was the two areas where the pizzas had been. you couldn’t help but laugh a bit, your hand flying over your mouth in shock.
“i leave you alone in the kitchen for not even 30 minutes!” you laugh, shocked at the amount of tragedy that had taken place in your absence.
satoru can only smile sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck, his black t shirt practically white with the amount of flour on it. you’re nodding your head, laughing as you rest your head on his chest.
“what am i gonna do with you, angel boy,” you smile, the two of you walking over the couch, sitting down in silence.
“we could always order in?” satoru suggests, grinning when you burst out laughing again.
twenty minutes later there’s a knock on your door, two boxes with perfectly cooked pizzas in them.
“next time ill definitely check them more often,” satoru mumbles, the words make you turn and face him slowly. you state state at each other, blinking slowly before you speak up.
“you’re banned from pizza making in this home,” you state, satoru’s mouth falls open, gasping at your words.
“it wasn’t even that bad!” he defends, watching you got up from your seat, grabbed one of the pizzas and knocked it against the counter.
“this pizza is harder than fucking diamond im pretty sure!” you laugh incredulously, “i genuinely think the pepperonis disintegrated in the oven.”
satoru pouts, “everyone makes mistakes, some worse than others.” he can’t help but smile, knowing there was no way he’d ever even try to make pizza again, not on his own at least.
“no yeah those are fucking terrible” he laughs, getting up and grabbing what was supposed to be his pizza. “oh my god you’re right!” his eyes wide as he realizes he can’t find any of his pepperonis.
satoru only tried to make pizza once after that, only to realize he liked Pizza Hut so much better, effectively giving up on his pizza making endeavors for good.
taglist (send an ask to be added!): @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @4sat0ruu @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags @fushironi @nineooooo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @gojoshooter @sat6ru @beautiful-is-boring @sweetheart-satoru @luna0713hunter @torusmochi
#kinda hate this actually#idk how to end it LOL#gojo satoru#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru fluff#gojo satoru drabble#gojo x reader#gojo satoru imagine#gojo satoru headcanons#satoru gojo x reader#gojou satoru x reader#gojo satoru fanfic#satoru gojo imagine#satoru gojo fluff#satoru gojo fanfic#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojo headcanons#satoru gojo x y/n#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen imagine
346 notes
·
View notes
Text
YOU KNOW WHAT???
TIME TO--
"Brothers' Night!"
Click, click, clack, tap.
The familiar sound of his little brother's typing sounded around the corner as Sonic rounded it and made his way into the lab. Tails was zoned completely into whatever he was working on, his eyes glued onto the screen, not even shifting as he tried to reach for his juice box and swiped at empty air twice before he found it and took a sip.
Stifling an amused grin, Sonic wandered closer and leaned an arm on the fox kit's head. "Whatcha doing?"
"Uh . . . making calculations and preparations for an upgrade on the Tornado's integrated drive generator. I want it to be a bit more durable in case of another crash."
"Ah." Sonic stared blankly at the screen, deciding to pretend he knew what that meant. He nudged Tails's shoulder. "Have you eaten today?"
It took Tails a moment to respond. "Yeah, I had lunch, I think."
"You think?"
"Uh huh." Tails started typing again, then squinted at the screen and zoomed in on something.
Sonic frowned thoughtfully.
"So did you hear what Amy and Cream were up to today?" he asked, trying to test something.
"Uh."
"They went camping out in some canyons last night, and they're out hiking today! Amy said we could join them next time!"
"Yeah."
Sonic grinned and shook his head, then glanced at the clock. It was past their normal dinnertime.
In the blink of an eye, he'd rushed off, readied up the living room with blankets, pillows, and a few small tables, then dashed back, scooped his brother into his arms even as he yelped, "Hey—!" ran back to the living room, and dumped him into the couch cushions.
"What gives?" Tails demanded, shaking his bangs out of his eyes. "I was in the middle of—"
"Nope!" Sonic interrupted, striking a pose atop the coffee table. "Break time, lil bro! Or should I say, brothers' night! Complete with a meal of your choice, storytime, board games, maybe a pillow fight, a sleepover, and no screens for the rest of the night!"
"Wh-What?" Tails stammered, looking somewhere between thrilled and horrified. "But what about the integr—"
"Tomorrow, bud!" Sonic hopped onto the couch next to Tails and dragged him in for a noogie. "You, little man, have spent way too much time working in front of screens today. Do you have any idea how bad that is for your eyes? This is an intervention!"
"I suppose . . ." Tails mumbled, but he was grinning. "We haven't done this in forever."
"Precisely why this is a perfect time to do it!" Sonic flipped off the couch and regained his pose on the table, even as Tails protested that he was going to dirty up his living room with the dirt from his shoes.
And so the evening progressed. Tails convinced Sonic to take his shoes off to spare all the blankets and pillows. Tails chose pasta for dinner, and they had mint ice cream for dessert (at least, Tails did; Sonic just had chocolate, since he was a bit sensitive to mint). They played an infuriating game of Monopoly that lasted two and a half hours. Tails won, and Sonic got his revenge by chucking a throw pillow at his brother's face.
It ended up escalating into a full blown pillow fight.
Somehow that turned into a karaoke battle, which then turned into a comedy show by Sonic with lots of sassy commentary from Tails. They made popcorn and stuffed themselves with far too much junk food, until 3 a.m. hit and they found themselves lying around half-buried in the mass of pillows and blankets, each getting more and more loopy as the conversation spiraled.
"Beef can't get sick," Tails found himself mumbling. "Dead meat doesn't get sick."
"I was talking about the possibility of cows turning into zombies, not contaminated lunch meat," Sonic muttered drowsily in response, breaking into a yawn.
"If the zombie cows die, do people still get turned into zombies if they eat them?" Tails asked, his voice muffled as he spoke into a pillow.
"I thought zombies don't die."
"Well, if someone blows them up in a bomb, they'd probably die."
"They'd be disintegrated. And then no one could eat them."
"Or they'd just turn into fiery zombies."
"I don't like zombies. Can we change the subject?"
"You started it."
"No, I was talking about . . . something else entirely. You just thought I said 'beef.'"
"What were you talking about before?"
". . . I forgot."
Slowly, they both lapsed into silence, until both had drifted off to sleep. They slept in till noon the next day, and even though cleanup took a while (neither of them remembered spilling half the popcorn into the couch), neither had any regrets.
Tails had forgotten just how much he loved Brothers' Night, but he was determined never to forget again. And he couldn't thank his big brother enough for dragging him away from his work to do it.
------------------------------------
BWAHAHAHAHAHA Y'ALL THOUGHT I WAS DONE FOR THE DAY??? PSYCH!!!
💙💛
I literally just whipped this up on the spot lol. I LOVE DE FLUFF!! Also the late night conversation about zombies and beef was heavily based off a near identical late night conversation I had with some friends at a sleepover a couple weeks ago 😋
Edit: here's the AO3 link
#sonic the hedgehog#sonic#sth#miles tails prower#sonic and tails#unbreakable bond#they're brothers your honor#wholesome sonic and tails wednesday#wholesome wednesday#wstw#wsatw#SURPRISE SHAWTY#one last hurrah before the day ends#fluff#fic#one shot#will post this on ao3 as well#at some point lol#my fic#fanfic#fanfiction#sonic fanfic#wholesome sonic and tails wednesday fic
132 notes
·
View notes
Note
hello !! can i make a smutty reiner request of married life and reiners a dad ? can be angsty if you want . you’re a genius when it comes to writing . i’ll love anything you write down (i always do)!!
Pairing: husband!Reiner x f!reader
Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
cw: established relationship, smut – PIV sex (missionary), cunnilingus, fingering, breeding kink, Reiner is a daddy!, fluff, very light angst (reader feels self-conscious after giving birth), talk about weight gain/loss (not much)
Author’s Note: Sweet nonnie, you are too kind. Thank you for the request and I hope you like this! Short, sweet, and of course, smutty. Enjoy! Divider by @/cafekitsune.
“She said dada! She said dada!” Reiner cheers at the kitchen table, spoonful of mushy carrots in his hand, feeding your daughter in her highchair.
You stand beside them, smiling. “Can you make her do it again?”
“Kara, can you say dada? Dada?” She blinks at him, giggling, tiny hand reaching for the spoon. He gives it to her, chuckling. “I guess she got stage fright once mommy showed up.” He turns to you, giving you a cocky smirk.
“Oh, so it’s my fault?”
“Yup. You’re putting too much pressure on her. You gotta let it come out naturally, y’know?”
You sit next to him, resting your head on his shoulder, sighing. “Yeah, you’re right.”
“You okay?” he asks, concerned.
You nod silently, eyes closed. He sets his hand on your knee, squeezing lightly. “Hey, seriously, what’s wrong?”
Fingers intwined in his, you answer, “Nothing. I’m fine.”
“Uh-oh. That’s definitely a lie,” he teases.
You nudge him in the ribs playfully. “Shut up.”
“Seriously, sweetie. What is it? Tell me.”
After a deep breath, you confess, “I’ve just been feeling a little self-conscious lately.”
“About what?”
“I don’t know. It’s been over a year now and I still haven’t lost any of the baby weight. It seems like with all my friends, they were able to shed it after a year. But it’s been hard for me. I don’t know.”
He doesn’t respond right away, thinking carefully about what he wants to say. Eventually, he comments, “I know you won’t believe me, but you’re more beautiful now than ever before.”
You laugh. “You have to say that. You’re my husband.”
“But have I ever lied to you?”
It doesn’t take you long to answer because he actually never has. “No, you haven’t.”
He nuzzles his head against yours. “Listen to me: Every single day we’re together, I fall deeper in love with you. In fact, every single minute, every second, you’re on my mind. And all I can think about is how lucky I am to be with you. And the fact that she,” he points to Kara, “came out of you shows that you are the most beautiful. Honestly, our baby is the prettiest, therefore, you are also the prettiest. It’s basic science.”
Your heart swells in your chest, tears filling your eyes. With a smooch on the cheek, you tell him, “You’re so corny, you know that?”
He faces you to give you a kiss. “And…?”
“I love you. So much.”
“That’s my girl,” he coos. He presses his lips to your forehead. “You dazzle me constantly. I truly mean that.”
~~~
Later that night, with Kara sleeping peacefully in her crib, Reiner proves to you how beautiful you are.
The both of you are naked in bed, your legs spread wide for him with his head between, sucking at your throbbing clit. He’s always been good at this, but tonight, he gives it to you like never before, desperate to show you how much he desires you. He laps at your wet cunt, collecting your slick to smear it over your bud. He shakes his head, spreading his tongue wide on you to lick every sensitive inch. And he doesn’t stop when you whine that it’s, “too much,” or “too sensitive,” because he’ll be damned if he lets his gorgeous wife feel insecure ever again. He wants it ingrained in you how much he cherishes you, body, soul, every fiber of your being.
He slides his fingers into your pussy, slipping in easily from your orgasms. Curling at the tips, he hits your G-spot, sucking on your clit, smirking as you twitch from the stimulation.
“Fuck! Baby! I –”
“It’s okay, honey,” he muffles, mouth still latched to you. “You can come again. Don’t be shy. Give it to me.”
Your body buzzes with ecstasy, radiating all the way down to your toes. He finally removes himself from you, lightly tapping on your swollen bud with slippery fingers. “You’re beautiful. I love seeing you like this.”
“Rei,” you whimper, twisting your legs around him, eager for his cock.
“Not yet, sweetie. Let me worship you a little while longer.” He leans down, kissing your stomach, tracing your stretch marks with his tongue. You watch him, running your fingers through his hair. “I love every single thing about you,” he whispers, trailing up to your breast, suckling at your nipple. “Every part of this gorgeous body.”
He explores your curves and peaks, the crook of your neck, the inside of your mouth, until he guides himself inside you, pumping his cock into your pussy. You wrap your legs around his waist, clinging to him tightly, wanting to melt into him. He continues to kiss you sloppily, dribbling his spit into your mouth. “Fuck, sweetie,” he moans, his thrusts increasing in pace. “I’m so close.”
“Fill me up, Rei. Please.”
“You want me to fuck another baby in you? Want me to make this cute belly round again, huh? Fuck, I can’t wait. I can’t wait, honey. You’re so beautiful, fuck.” He spills inside you, cock spurting his load into your womb. He watches as he slowly pulls out, enjoying the sight of your throbbing pussy gushing with his cum.
As big spoon, he cuddles you, sliding his arm over your waist, kissing the back of your neck, dewy with perspiration. “I love you, beautiful. I hope you don’t get tired of me saying that.”
You squeeze his hand in yours, smiling. “Never.”
#reiner braun smut#reiner braun#reiner smut#reiner x reader#reiner x you#reiner x f!reader#reiner x y/n#reiner drabble#reiner braun fluff#reiner fluff#aot fluff#aot smut#attack on titan fluff#attack on titan smut#requests#reiner request#aot requests#I always end these requests with a quote lol but I can't help it!
402 notes
·
View notes
Text
tease tidbit tuesday/wip wednesday
tagged by @thewolvesof1998 @theotherbuckley @tizniz @diazsdimples @dangerpronebuddie @spotsandsocks @exhuastedpigeon @underwaterninja13 - tagging y'all back for wip wednesday 💖💖
doing two in one bc it's technically wednesday already idc lol - started a new wip I mentioned before (inspired by this video lol) and rn I'm rewriting what I wrote yesterday bc the past two days words were not wording and I hated everything I wrote, but I think I'm happy with it now haha I hope I'll manage to write it like I want to bc it's sooo good in my head istg haha
(wasn't gonna post until i have more but i need validation before i drive myself crazy over this lol)
___
It started as a random idea, more like a throwaway thought, really. Tommy was just checking the weather for the next few days – his hot pilot boyfriend always likes to be prepared – while they were hanging out, and he casually mentioned that “it’s gonna be nice on Saturday, perfect barbecue weather,” which got Buck to mention how they often have family barbecues at Bobby and Athena’s. Somehow, the conversation spiraled, and Buck’s not sure who threw out a more concrete idea, but here they are now, standing side by side in Tommy’s kitchen, preparing food – Buck’s currently slicing veggies for a salad, while Tommy takes care of the meat – for the barbecue where they invited way too many people than Tommy’s backyard can probably fit. It really is nice weather, the sliding door leading from the kitchen to the backyard open and letting in warm sunshine and a soft breeze that makes the air feel cooler. They work in pleasant silence, the only sound is quiet music playing from the speaker, and Buck can’t help a fond smile when he hears his boyfriend hum along, so off-key Buck’s not sure he even knows the song, but it’s still adorable.
The silence is disrupted by the doorbell ringing, and before Tommy can even move, Buck is dropping the knife on the cutting board, wiping his hands, and sprinting towards the door, shouting an “I got it!” over his shoulder. He’s followed by an echo of Tommy’s fondly amused chuckles. So he’s a little excited, sue him – they haven’t had a family day like this in a while, and there was only one he brought Tommy to, all of their schedules not so easy to align. And today his whole family will be here, including their spouses and children, and Tommy invited a couple of his friends and their families, too, and it’ll be just a big, loud, chaotic get-together that he’s hosting with his boyfriend. Buck never hosted one of these before, and he’s really enjoying it so far, and he just wants everyone to have fun.
___
no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @thebravebitch @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @watchyourbuck
@eowon @loserdiaz @evanbegins @ladydorian05 @wildlife4life
@diazpatcher @lover-of-mine @monsterrae1 @weewootruck @loveyouanyway
@spagheddiediaz @rainbow-nerdss @epicbuddieficrecs @pirrusstuff @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove
@nmcggg @rogerzsteven @hippolotamus @bidisasterevankinard @giddyupbuck
@sunshinediaz @honestlydarkprincess @911-on-abc @jesuisici33 @steadfastsaturnsrings
@buddieswhvre @fortheloveofbuddie @your-catfish-friend
@daffi-990 @hoodie-buck @aroeddiediaz
#tease tidbit tuesday#wip wednesday#wikiangela writes#bucktommy fic#fic snippet#my writing#my wips#911 fic#911 abc#bucktommy#tommy kinard#evan buckley#buck x tommy#bucktommy wip#fireflight#firepilot#tevan#bucktommy barbecue fic#the beginning was fighting me for two days but I think (hope) I got it now#pls tell me it's okay bc the first version was *rough* lol#istg i spent like an hour today on the opening sentence and then ended up writing something totally different#this fic will be pure fluff bucktommy + 118 family feels bc buck wants his bf to hang out with his fam#im also giving tommy some friends from work (and having way too much trouble making up names lmao)#(also lots of tommy with kids bc that'd be adorable and he gives me the vibe of the kind of person kids are just drawn to lol)#idk we'll see how it works out haha
80 notes
·
View notes
Text
@steddie-week day 2: fluff | 1.8k words | teen and up
The door to the apartment slammed shut, followed by the jingle-clang of keys landing in the ceramic bowl Robin had made for Steve two years ago.
"Babe?" Steve looked up from the magazine he'd been flipping through and frowned at the stormy expression on Eddie's face.
Eddie barely acknowledged him, just swept past with stomping feet, dropping an absentminded kiss to the top of Steve's head as he made his way into the bedroom. A few moments later Steve heard the telltale thunk and flop of Eddie's bag hitting the ground and the man himself hitting their bed.
Ah, so one of those days.
Steve set down his magazine, folded his reading glasses neatly atop it, and pushed himself up from the couch to make for the bathroom.
~*~*~*~
Eddie wanted to die. Nope, no, he wanted to commit a homicide.
Actually, scratch that, being wanted for murder sucked.
What he wanted was for the world not to be full of a bunch of entitled little shitsacks who had never been taught how to talk to another human being who didn't have a white collar around their neck.
At least his bed was there to support him. The mattress was a little lumpy, sure, but nothing could outmatch the satisfaction of dramatically flinging oneself onto a flat surface after a shity day at work.
The sound of running bath water filtered into Eddie's awareness.
Okay, maybe one thing.
Steve usually allowed him a few minutes to sulk and brood when he got home feeling like shit. Sometimes interacting with any human (even someone he would literally—and nearly did—die for) was just too much.
"Eds?"
"Mmph." Eddie spit some of the hair that had landed in his mouth out, but didn't bother to raise his head more than half an inch off the bed to do so.
Steve chuckled. "Okay, five more minutes—otherwise the water will get too cold. I'm gonna go make us some tea."
Eddie raised an arm and waved vaguely in the direction of Steve's voice in acknowledgement.
He let himself drift for his five minutes to the sound of Steve puttering around the kitchen—grabbing mugs, teabags, the sugar jar—before peeling himself up off the bed when the shrill whistle of the kettle pierced through the relative silence of the apartment. If he wasn't in the bath by the time Steve made it there he'd be in trouble. Which could be fun, but it wasn't what he was in the mood for today.
Eddie stripped off his—itchy, sweaty, suffocating—uniform as he padded over to the bathroom, leaving a trail of clothes behind him as he went.
~*~*~*~
Steve waltzed back into the bathroom with two steaming mugs in his hand to find Eddie already situated in the tub, knees pulled up under his chin, hair piled up in a messy bun, and one hand dragging lazily across the surface of the water.
Steve set both mugs down on the ground next to the bath. "Hey, baby," he murmured, pressing a kiss to his boyfriend’s temple.
"Hi." Eddie's voice was low and subdued.
“Bad day?” Steve asked as he pulled his shirt up and over his head.
Eddie shrugged. “You could say that.”
“Wanna talk about it?” Steve shucked off his jeans.
Eddie shook his head. “Not much to talk about.”
“Okay.” Steve folded his clothes, set them in a neat stack atop the closed toilet lid, and carefully lowered himself into the bath behind Eddie.
The water was just a touch too hot for his own comfort, but Eddie ran cold and preferred his baths on the scalding warmer side. (Shared showers were a trial. Eddie insisted that Steve was trying to murder him with frostbite. Steve maintained that Eddie was trying to boil the both of them alive.)
Some of the tension had already bled out just from being in the bath. Eddie’s shoulders were no longer curled up around his ears—instead, he was slouched forward into the water.
Steve wrapped his arms around Eddie’s waist and pressed a kiss to the patchy birthmark high up on his back, smiling when Eddie responded with a humming little sigh. “Wash my hair?” he asked.
“Sure thing, Eds.”
Steve reached over to grab the shampoo and tiny bucket they left in the shower just for this. “Wanna drink some of your tea before I douse you?”
Eddie didn’t say anything, but reached out blindly to grab one of the steaming mugs next to the tub. Steve didn’t bother holding back a snort that he’d managed to grab the “Don’t Bother Me, I’m Crabby” mug they’d nicked from Wayne.
Eddie took a slow sip of the tea, and the second he’d set it back down and straightened back up, Steve dumped a bucket of warm water over his head.
Eddie spluttered. “Babe, what the fuck!”
Steve snickered from behind him. “Just wanted to make sure you were here on earth with me, bedhead.”
Eddie shook his head like a rain-soaked dog. “You could have at least taken out the ponytail first!”
“I suppose I could have,” Steve said, lips twitching up into a smile as he reached up to start pulling Eddie’s dark curls from where they’d gotten tangled in the hair tie. “I got you talking again in something other than a monotone, though.”
“Maybe I was enjoying playing the dark, broody hero.”
Steve pinched Eddie’s side, which resulted in a high-pitched squeak, and a wild flail that had water splashing up around them. "Behave," Steve chastised—though the warning was undercut by the laugh of unconcealed delight he barked out as Eddie’s arms swung around him.
"You're the one assaulting me in my time of suffering!"
"Suck it up, buttercup,” Steve shot back, combing his fingers through wet curls and gently detangling each and every knot he ran into. He couldn't help but rub the silky-soft strands between his fingers as he went. Steve's own day had been slow and uneventful, but a quiet sort of unease had been hovering at the edges for hours. Drawing Eddie a bath and settling in behind him to wash his hair helped settle Steve back into his body just as much as it did for Eddie.
Steve began working shampoo into Eddie's roots, massaging his fingers into his scalp, and Eddie's head tipped back as he let out a pleased hum that sounded almost like a purr. "Love your fingers in my hair, Stevie," he mumbled, sounding a bit hazy.
"Yeah? Is that the only place you like my fingers?" Steve asked, right into Eddie's ear.
Eddie scrambled back upright and turned to face Steve with an alarmed expression on his face. "No! Why would you think that? Did I say something to make you think that? Please, I’m so sorry, baby. Please know that I love your fingers anywhere on me. Or in me. What if they went somewhere else right now?"
Steve laughed, grabbing Eddie's shoulder to turn him back around with one hand, and dipping the bucket back into the water to rinse the suds out of Eddie's hair with the other. When Steve was sure he'd thoroughly rinsed Eddie's hair he leaned past him to grab the conditioner and whisper in his ear, "You can get them somewhere else a little later if you're good for me, baby," before leaning back and clicking the bottle open.
"I'll be so good for you, Stevie. Just tell me what I gotta do."
"Keep still and don't sass me for the next five minutes."
Eddie's mouth opened and then immediately snapped back shut as he clearly decided that whatever his response to that was gonna be probably qualified as "sass."
"Good boy," Steve said simply, dropping another kiss to Eddie's back.
"I can be good when I wanna be," Eddie grumbled.
"Careful," Steve shot back, gently chiding. He methodically worked the conditioner through Eddie's hair in sections, tugging gently as he did, just for the soft satisfaction that ran through him every time Eddie let out a soft gasp in response to it.
"Always careful, Stevie," Eddie mumbled back, eyes fluttering shut.
Steve reached down to brush one hand over the scars running down Eddie's side. "Not always," he whispered, just a little sadly, as he pressed a firm kiss to the mostly-faded ring of scars at his throat.
"Mm, don't be sad, baby."
"Not sad. Just glad you're alive."
Eddie was quiet for a stretch, and Steve chuckled.
"What? What were you gonna say, asshole?"
"I don't know what you're talking about, love," Eddie replied, all faux innocence.
"You were gonna say something sassy just then, that's why you went all quiet. So, out with it, come on. How were you gonna sass me in response to me saying I'm glad you're alive?"
"Promise you won't hold it against me?"
"Yeah, baby." Steve leaned over to press a kiss to Eddie’s nose. "This one's a freebie."
Eddie looked over his shoulder with a wide grin, and a twinkle in his eye. "I was gonna call you a sap."
Steve rolled his eyes. "Oh, well, fuck me for being happy my boyfriend's alive I guess."
"I was actually hoping that you would fuck me," Eddie replied.
"You're pushing your luck, Eds," Steve warned, yanking lightly at his hair.
"Sorry, baby."
Steve ran his hands up and down the sides of Eddie's arms. "All forgiven, Eds."
Steve let his hands drift as he waited for the conditioner to rest—digging his fingers into the dense coils of muscle in Eddie's neck, smoothing his palms down the ridges of Eddie's spine, ghosting his hands up Eddie's sides. When time was up, he grabbed the bucket, turned on the tap to fill it with clean, warm water, and spilled it over Eddie’s head. Steve combed his fingers through the chestnut locks again, making sure he’d thoroughly rinsed them once more. The two of them fell still and silent, like two little stones in the river bed.
Steve loved this. The quiet trance they fell into, as Eddie relaxed into the water, and Steve pressed kisses into his lover’s skin, and they both forgot the mugs of tea that Steve made.
Steve separated Eddie’s hair into even sections, savoring the feeling of freshly cleaned locks passing through his fingers as he wove the strands together—over-under, over-under, over-under—and plaited Eddie’s hair down the length of his back. When he was done, he flipped the end of the braid back over Eddie’s shoulder, and Eddie leaned further into him, pressing the length of his back against Steve’s chest.
Steve let his hands start wandering, and Eddie let out a soft gasp of surprise when the pads of Steve's thumbs brushed over both nipples. "Steve."
"Shh, I got you baby," Steve murmured, and let one hand drop down to where Eddie was stiffening up beneath the water.
"I know you do, Stevie," Eddie whispered back on a sigh and a gasp. "I know you do."
#stranger things#stranger things fanfiction#steddie#steddie week#steddieweek2023#steddie fluff#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie fic#was hoping to get this up just before day 2 ended in my timezone but instead we're just past#i just threw this together today because the image of steve braiding eddie's hair popped into my head#may or may not throw this up on ao3 later#idk if i will do anything for the other days#(I did start something for day one which I may post late or separately at some point)#also it must be noted that the ceramic bowl is a mangled attempt at mimicking one of the scoops ahoy hats#and abandoning mugs of tea is something lifted from my own real life and partner lol#read writes
489 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
sillytorch
A Single Light and a Single Friend but You Made That END!!!
protocolzero
Protocol Zer0
pasfolio
Pasfolio
alimarshallz
AliMarshallz
yasarts
Untitled