#my hands are actually hurting in the bones from the sudden joy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

translations-by-aiimee · 3 years

Text

The Husky and His White Cat Shizun - Chapter 17

Original Title: 二哈和他的白猫师尊

Genres: Drama, Romance, Tragedy, Xianxia, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter Index

Chapter 17 - This Venerable One's Shizun was Injured, This Venerable One is very. . .

What kind of Master of Ceremonies Ghost was this thing? They dealt with aphrodisiacs. At best, other people's aphrodisiacs would let average living people take about their prowess. This immortal was good. The dead could get hard with a small wave of the hand. The hand was truly a wonderful "aphrodisiac"!

He was watching with great interest when suddenly Chu Wanning stretched out his hand and covered Mo Ran's ears.

Mo Ran: "Huh?"

Chu Wanning looked extremely cold: "Such a ridiculous and obscene practice. Don't bother watching it."

"Then you should be covering my eyes. Why are you plugging my ears?"

Chu Wanning's face was expressionless: "Don't look, don't listen. Close your eyes."

Mo Ran: "Pff. Shizun, you are really. . ." He didn't even pay attention to his own red face. If he wanted eyes closed, he can do it himself.

Mo Ran couldn't help but be a little bit happy. Chu Wanning, a person made of ice and snow, had never even seen an erotic picture. At this moment, now that he saw intimacy up close, he would probably choke to death.

The dead couple came together, and gradually both of them became alive. Their dead throat, which was supposed to be silent, actually let out a raspy gasp similar to that of a living person.

Chu Wanning was obviously disgusted. He harshly turned away, not wanting to look again.

Mo Ran noticed this with great joy. He tried to get a rise out of the other. He smirked and knocked against his chin.

Chu Wanning quickly avoided him as if he were being stabbed: "What are you doing?"

"I'm not doing anything." Mo Ran said sweetly and sneakily. With some sarcasm and teasing, he gave him a once-over like he was making a joke.

No matter how old this man is, this kind of thing still makes him blush. . .

No, it's more like a mixture of blue and red. It's quite funny.

"Shizun, didn't you tell us that we must see what the other party is capable of being doing anything? You should also see the ability of this Master of Ceremonies Ghost."

"What is there to see? Don't look."

Mo Ran sighed: "Why do you have such thin skin?"

Chu Wanning replied angrily: "It's improper and nasty. It really hurts my eyes!"

"Then I have to look at it." Mo Ran said, and he lay there nonchalantly. He looked outside again and he said, "Ah", "Wow", "Awesome", "Ouch" and so on. It made Chu Waning completely berserk, and the coffin board could not be held down. He whispered angrily: "Just look, what are you narrating for?!"

Mo Ran said innocently: "I thought you wanted to hear it."

Chu Wanning finally couldn't hold back. He strangled Mo Ran's neck, gritting his teeth: "If you make another noise, I'll throw you out to feed the zombies right now!"

Enough teasing. He couldn't push Chu Wanning too far. When he got anxious, Tianwen would quickly be summoned, so Mo Ran lay there obediently, staring outside, without saying a word.

As the ghost couple reached their climax, the male corpse let out a low growl, spasming and twitching on the female corpse. Suddenly a cloud of blue smoke burst out of them. The Master of Ceremonies Ghost opened her mouth and greedily inhaled the blue smoke until the last wisp of it was in her stomach. This time, he wiped the corners of her mouth gluttonously, and her eyes shone brightly.

It seems that these were the "benefits" that the married couple gave to it, which would increase its cultivation.

"Haha, hahaha—" When the Master of Ceremonies Ghost tasted the sweetness, it became even more radiant. When he spoke again, the misty and empty voice became clear, shouting and roaring. The sharp voice seemed to pierce through the long night. "Rise! Get up! All of you! Wait for the idiot and blame the girl! I kindly grant you intimacy! You offer me your faith! Get up! Get up! Everyone rise!"

Mo Ran's heart skipped a beat: It's over. . .

What is it going to do?!

The surrounding hundreds of coffins all began to tremble, verifying what Mo Ran was thinking. The Master of Ceremonies Ghost is going to summon all the corpses in the coffins to embrace so that it can absorb all their "benefits" at once!

Not caring about joking anymore, Mo Ran yanked at Chu Wanning: "Shizun!!!"

"Now what?!"

"Quick! Get out! Shi Mei is still trapped with the Chen's family daughter-in-law!" Mo Ran was going mad. "Let's go save him!"

Chu Wanning took a look outside. He didn't expect the Master of Ceremonies Ghost would have such a powerful hunger, not wanting to absorb from the pairs individually, but actually wanting to take a huge bite!

The trembling of the coffin next to them became more and more intense. It wasn't a stretch to think that all the pairs of the ghost marriages were inspired to start acting up in the coffins. This thought made Chu Wanning choke, his face growing even more ugly. At this moment, the Master of Ceremonies Ghost, who was standing in the same place and laughing for a long time, suddenly felt something. She abruptly turned her head. A pair of black eyes without focus stared straight past the others and landed on the coffin of Mo Ran and Chu Wanning .

It could feel, despite its low intelligence, that the coffin does not have the erotic scent it was familiar with.

There was no faith.

There was no. . .

Living people!!!

Suddenly it arched up, screaming and scrambling. The Master of Ceremonies Ghost's robe flapped up, a pair of blood-red claws stabbing through the coffin wood, piercing the thick coffin, straight into the coffin body.

Its attack was too sudden and Mo Ran was too late to react. Moreover, the space in the coffin was very small, and it was impossible to go anywhere. Seeing its head through the five holes made by the nine-yin white bone claws, its body suddenly fell -- Chu Wan Ning had already swiftly guarded him in his arms, blocking himself in front, and the five pointed claws of the Master of Ceremonies Ghost suddenly pierced into Chu Wanning's shoulder!

Deep enough to reach a bone!

". . ."

Chu Wanning stifled a grunt but he endured it and didn't shout out. The other uninjured hand was still burning with the sound-dampening spell, and he placed it on Mo Ran's lips, blocking the sound that Mo Ran would've made.

The claws of the Master of Ceremonies Ghost dug into the flesh and blood of Chu Wanning.

It had a muddled brain and it could only judge what was dead or alive by sound. Chu Wanning actually managed not to say a word in this situation, the blood bubbling down his shoulder. Mo Ran was held down so he couldn't see how serious his injuries were, but he could clearly feel Chu Wanning trembling slightly. . .

Living people. . . or dead people? It was impossible for a living person to have not made a sound. The Master of Ceremonies couldn't tell for a moment. The sharp claws shifted around in the flesh of Chu Wanning's shoulder, viciously tearing and scratching.

Chu Wanning trembled with pain. He spasmed, a cold sweat drenching his clothes.

But he was still biting his lip, protecting the disciple in his arms, as if he had really become a corpse and became a dead person, pressing against the edge of the coffin, like cast iron on the wall of the coffin.

The Master of Ceremonies Ghost seemed to confirm that anyone in the coffin wasn't alive anymore. It jerked its hand out, blood flying, and he could even hear the sticky sound of fingers being pulled out of the flesh, which made his hair stand upright.

Chu Waning's taut body felt like it had suddenly lost its strength. He let go of Mo Ran and gasped softly.

There was a strong smell of blood flowing in the coffin.

Mo Ran raised his head. Through the dim light leaking in through the hole, he could see Chu Wanning's drooping eyelashes, as well as the moist but stubborn eyes beneath them.

Those slightly provocative phoenix eyes, blurred with pain, but still more cruel and tenacious, a thin veil of mist filling them. . .

Mo Ran wanted to speak. Chu Wanning shook his head and he left the silencing spell on his lips. After a while, he took a slow breath and, with trembling fingertips, wrote on the back of Mo Ran's hand:

The sound-cancelling barrier was damaged, so they couldn't speak.

The Master of Ceremonies Ghost outside tilted its head, as if he didn't understand why, even though there was clearly no living person inside the coffin, he didn't follow its instructions, nor could it feel any of offerings of faith.

Chu Wanning raised his head and glanced at it from the gap. His uninjured hand was encaged with golden light, and a willow vine flowing with flaming luster came out in response to the call.

He held Tianwen and narrowed his eyes.

The next moment, they broke out of the coffin!!!

The coffin exploded. Chu Wanning flew out like lightning. Tianwen was both accurate and quick and it strangled the neck of the Master of Ceremonies Ghost who let out an ear-piercing whine——

"Who are you! How dare you!"

Chu Wanning's answer was only one phrase: "Get lost!"

The large, auspicious red robe flipped out, like a cloud wave. He had been holding back just to land the right blow, so he immediately struck with one hand and Tianwen went for the neck! It decapitated the Master of Ceremonies Ghost!

A thick red mist along with a strange fragrance sprayed out from its broken neck. Chu Wanning quickly backed away, avoiding the fog, and sternly said: "Mo Ran! Thousand Killing Cuts!"

Mo Ran had already been waiting on standby. When he heard the order, he clutched the dark sword box in his sleeves, filled it with spiritual power, and blasted it towards the mutilated body who was reaching for his head.

The clay body split open, revealing a flowing red light inside the translucent body. Chu Wanning raised Tianwen again and tied up the immortal spirit body of the Master of Ceremonies Ghost. A scream came from the body of the headless immortal: "The mortals are safe! The mortals are safe! — Rise! Get up! Kill them! Kill them——!!!"

The golden boy and girl, who had no facial features, suddenly both had a pair of blood-red eyes light up, and with countless squeals and screams, rushed towards Mo Ran and Chu Wanning.

The coffins lying on the ground also shattered and the dead corpses lying inside rose and surged toward the two of them.

Mo Ran's gaze weaved through the crowd, looking for Shi Mei. Chu Wanning barked: "What are you staring at those corpses for? That's not going to do anything!"

The two of them and the Master of Ceremonies Ghost had already flown on top of a coffin, the slow-moving corpses slowly gathering around them. Mo Ran raised his hands to light an exorcism talisman. He cast it in all directions, sending an explosion through the crowd. But there were too many ghosts, another wave of them not far behind.

Mo Ran was flabbergasted: "This many people died in Caidie Town? How many married couples are there?!!!"

Chu Wanning said angrily: "Look at the cultivation level of the Master of Ceremonies Ghost. There are so many men and women who didn't die naturally! In all likelihood, it probably compels those who aren't married to commit suicide! Hit over here!"

Mo Ran waved another exorcism talismans toward the place Chu Wanning signaled, exploding a piece of white bone and dead flesh.

"Why isn't the Master of Ceremonies Ghost dead?"

"Ordinary weapons can't hurt it."

"What about Tianwen?"

Chu Wanning was furious: "Can't you see that it wants me to use Tianwen? This Master of Ceremonies Ghost moves extremely fast. If I let go of it, and don't get another grip on it, I'm afraid it will have already escaped!"

Those corpses were piled up more and more. Mo Ran, while fighting, was paying attention to whether Shi Mei was in the crowd, so as not to accidentally hurt him. A golden boy rushed over and violently bit his leg. He cursed inwardly, and he threw an exorcism talisman directly on the golden boy's face. He kicked it into the crowd of corpses and he exploded with a bang.

Chu Wanning said: "Have you seen Shi Mei and Madam Chen?"

After frantically searching, Mo Ran suddenly saw two swaying figures in the distance and said joyfully, "I see them!"

"Get over there and pull the two of them away! Get away from here!"

"Okay!" Mo Ran answered and then he was taken aback. "What are you going to do?"

Chu Wanning said angrily: "I can't raise my other arm, and I can't summon other weapons. I can only use Tianwen. As soon as I release the Master of Ceremonies Ghost, I'll destroy this entire place. If you don't want to die, get out as soon as possible!"

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

#2ha novel #2ha translation #2ha #the husky and his white cat shizun translation #the husky and his white cat shizun #english translation #chinese bl #chinese novel #bl novel #danmei novel #danmei #yaoi novel #yaoi #mo ran #chu wanning #ranwan

156 notes · View notes

secondhand-trash · 3 years

Text

To Build a Home

A/N: I started this at 11pm 7/3 my time so it probably won’t go up on his actual bday but... happy birthday yuutaaaaaaa :excitedmeow:

Pairing: Okkotsu Yuuta x f!reader

Description: He had been gone from home for far too long and he realised he couldn’t stand leaving you all by yourself anymore

Warning: pwp written by someone who is tired out of their minds, breeding talk, vaginal penetration, creampie, fingering

Word count: 2215

Okkotsu Yuuta did not approach you immediately when he realised you hadn’t noticed him yet. The tightness in his chest suffocated him as he leaned on the doorframe of the kitchen where the crisp noises of chopping seeped into his ear, the tiredness he had not pick up in his body suddenly collapsing on him in full force when he was finally back at the comfort of his home.

And you were there, with your back towards him, humming some sort of tune he was sure he knew but couldn’t think of the name just now. Yuuta had experienced a long period of time being away from home and from everyone he knew, but it had only gotten harder to stomach now that he knew there was someone waiting for him to come home.

He thought of you often when he got sent away on a mission far too long for his liking. In his dreams, in his wake. Waiting to hear your voice from the other end of every call became the one thing that kept him going as the weight of his sword got heavier and heavier with each night he spent alone. Yet, the silence and void in his head were always the most obvious the moment his temporary moment of joy ended and he was left with nothing but your phantom voice in his ear.

But he was back now, he had missed you so badly.

His eyes first landed on your exposed neck, the beautiful arch of where it connected to your spine catching his stare with your head dipped down. You shifted your weight from feet to feet with the rhythm of the song you were humming, swaying your hips gently to the beat. Your hands never stopped, the sharp knife landing on the chopping board neatly with each push and lift of your arm.

It was a sight he would never get tired of, and he almost felt like he did not want to disturb the peacefulness for a split moment.

You squealed in shock when you felt the sudden tightness around your frame, the knife landing on the counter with a clang. Your heart skipped a beat until the beating steadied as the blankness in your head faded, being filled with the gentle breaths behind your back instead.

“Yuuta!” you twisted back, eyes widened in delight. Your husband buried his face at the crook of your neck, biting back a sigh from the way you said his name. It had been long since he last held you in his arms like that, it almost gave him the same rush as it did the first time he ever held your hand.

Gingerly and blushing like a fool, yet you still looked at him like he was the most charming person in the world.

Your body was warm under his hand as you pulled him down for a kiss you had both been waiting for far too long. His lips were a bit chapped, slightly paler than always and you saw the bags under his eyes when he pulled away. You wanted to say something but he did not give you the time to, closing the gap between you once more before you could even make a sound.

Eyes shut as he pressed his forehead against yours, he finally let out the heavy breath he had been holding in.

“I miss you...”

“I miss you too,” you whispered, the warm exhales fanning against his lips with each sound that rolled off your tongue. You leaned closer, letting the tip of your nose touch, “so much,” and then a lingering kiss on the arch of his cupid’s bow, tugging at the softness when you pull away, “so so much...”

He held you closer against his chest, one arm around your waist and the other holding onto your shoulder. Each dent and swell of your body fitted against his perfectly like you were moulded after each other. Yuuta allowed himself to greedily inhale more of your scent, the faint whiff of your shampoo tickling at his senses.

It had been a while since you shared the same scent.

“Yuuta...” you protested weakly when his large hand trailed down from the front of your chest until it stopped at the swell against your shirt. He did not budge when you gave a useless wiggle of your shoulder, his much firmer form pressed up tightly on your back. “I was cooking...”

He mumbled something inaudible against your neck before his hand groped at the softness of your chest. You whimpered when he kneaded the flesh, pushing yourself back against him as your hand went to grip at his wrist for leverage. Your knees threatened to buck when his tongue traced along the pulse at the side of your neck, leaving a wet trail on the patch of skin. Your head rolled back, laying on him as a firm palm covered your lower stomach.

“I had been thinking,” he murmured, his finger hooking under the elastic of your shorts, “about how lonely you must be, all alone in this house whenever I got sent away.”

You squirmed when you felt a hardness poking at your behind, your face heating up at his voice in your ear and the chills on your arm when he rubbed your nipple with his hand fondling you above your shirt. The warmth that was just on your stomach was inching lower and lower until you let out a lewd whimper when his hand cupped your clothed sex.

You shivered when you felt the warm huff of his breath at your earlobe, feeling the electrifying numbs shooting down your spine as his fingers rubbed against the dampened spot on your underwear.

“Wouldn’t it be nice to have a tiny one keeping you company while I’m gone?”

“Yu- hm!” your voice came out as a broken moan when he pushed your panties to the side. His finger brushed against the wet slit, back and forth until he could feel your leaking juices gathering at the pad of his middle finger.

“Yeah?” he asked like you had just given him a reply, biting the soft swell of your ear as he hoisted you up on his arm, “you’d like that, right? You’re so wet already...”

Your nails dug into his arm when he plunged a finger into your cunt, throwing your head back at the burn that elicited where he brushed past. You had touched yourself while he was gone, with and without him. But your fingers or any toy could not even go near to the effect he was having on you. You felt another rush of heat rushing to your core when he buried his finger in you until his knuckle was touching your folds, his other hand working to push down your pants altogether.

He worked his way with you patiently, cooing and muttering about how he kept thinking about giving you a baby when he was away from you as he stretched you out with his finger. He was all pressed up on your bare ass, the friction of your cheeks against his cock making him harder by the second. He had stolen a glance at the beautiful curve of your hips, the way your hip bone jutted at before blending into the plush swell that would fit perfectly under his grip.

Your joints hurt from how hard you were gripping down on him, your jaw slack and lips parted as his name slurred off your tongue. He kissed the blade of your shoulder when he crooked his finger inside of you, earning him a buck of your knees. He chuckled at your reaction as he caught you with his hand on your stomach, the thought of this being where your child would be after he was done with you sending a flush of heat down his veins. A shaky whine slipped past your lips when he gave a few more pumps before pulling out of you. The warmth that had wrapped you up fading as he took a step backwards.

The sound of zippers coming undone was far too similar in your brain, sending anticipation down your core at what he said he would do. You bent down, planting your face against the kitchen counter as you pushed your ass back. He groaned at the gesture, his throat bobbing as he gulped when you parted your cheek with a hand digging into the flesh.

He nearly lost control at the sight of you presenting yourself to his eyes. “Please Yuuta,” your hole spasmed around nothing as wetness tinted your skin, folds glistening under the warm light of the kitchen as you spread your legs wider, “I want your baby-”

Your voice melted into a whimper when you felt fingers digging into the sides of your ass before a hard tip nudged at your entrance. He slid his cock between your sopping folds, watching as your slick wet his length. He pulled back just slightly, watching the clear bead of pre being spread all over your cunt as he swirled his hips, pushing his tip teasingly against your folds.

The sound that you made when he sunk into you was like music to his ears, honeyed and soft like you were about to melt in his hands. The heat of his hard cock stretching you out almost felt foreign with how long it had been, sending white to your vision and your back arching in reflex.

The first thrust of his hips came with a loud squelch, making your face burn. Yuuta moaned at how easy it was for him to bottom out inside of you, his length coming out of you with a sheen from your wetness before slamming down on you again. He watched with intent as your ass jiggled under his force, the sound of his balls slapping against your skin bouncing off the walls.

“I’ll work so hard,” he said, breathily but still unwavering even though you were already out of your breath under his force, “gonna fuck you well so you’re sure to be pregnant by the time I have to leave again...”

You whimpered at the thought of him filling you up every day relentlessly, an animalistic desire to be stuffed fueling the coil in your stomach as he drove up his pace. He was so hot inside of you, the crown of his cock dredging along your walls with each roll of his hips and sending tingles of pleasure down to the bone.

“Yes yes yes-” you weren’t even sure what you were saying, incoherent babbling flowing from your lips as primal lust took over your head. Your eyes shut tight when you creamed yourself on his cock, legs shaking as you pressed your head against the cold marble of the counter you were helplessly holding onto.

Yuuta’s mouth parted in a silent moan when you clamped down on him, his hands shifting downwards to hold you by the root of your thighs and keeping your legs open for him. Wetness dripped down from where your bodies were connected, the sight basically begging him to keep on and don’t stop.

He pulled you up so that your back was flush against his chest, “I can’t wait to see how you would look with your tummy swelled up.”

You could feel the vibration of each word, hitting you in full force as his thrusts got sloppier and more frantic. A kiss to your forehead had you soft like putty in his hands, your body collapsing on his as he held you still in his arms. You felt a shudder of his hips when he shot his load inside of you, your mouth parting into an “o” as spurts of thick cum coated your insides. It left a warm blaze in your system, together with the lingering heat of where his fingers were digging into your skin.

He gave a few humps to ride out the high, making you whimper weakly before he pulled out of you. The spasming of your sensitive walls pushed the beads of white out of your hole and the mixture threatened to drip down your legs.

“Yuuta...” you purred, trying to push yourself off the counter with your palms and latching onto him. He caught you in his arms immediately and with your chest against his, you realised this was the first time you had looked at him properly since he came back. Smiling lazily when he held your hands that had gone up to cup his cheek, you buried your face in his chest and closed your eyes, allowing yourself to drown in his comforting presence.

The arm that was snaked around your back shifted, and you giggled when he bent down to tuck it below your hips before lifting you up with ease. “What are you doing?” you asked, wrapping your arms around your neck.

‘Your Yuuta,’ you wanted to coo, toying with the hair at the nape of his neck.

He smiled, the one that warms your heart and you had missed, before kissing you square on the lips.

“Taking you to bed,” he darted his tongue out to wet his lips, “I hope you know I mean it when I say I’ll work hard.”

#jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jujutsu kaisen smut #okkotsu x reader #okkotsu imagines #okkotsu smut #okkotsu imagine

336 notes · View notes

booksweet · 3 years

Text

Real

Starring: Gojo Satoru x fem!reader

Synopsis: what If your favorite character became real the moment you needed the most?

Contents: fluffy, probably shibuya incident arc spoilers (not too much), grammar mistakes

word count: 1.368

A/N: helloo, guys! It's Friday and the time has come for me to post again! This story came up because I'm reading (suffering) shibuya incident arc since Monday and it's been HARD, so it may be the aftereffects of 20 chapters read and a lot of crying and sobbing. Hope you like it!

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

main navi | masterlist

She was laying on her bed, not really in a peacefully way once she was reading one of her favorite stories and all the plot was driving her to hell and back. She knew it would be bad, it would be terrible, but no one warned her it was THAT BAD. She couldn't help but just cry after all that happened, she felt his pain and hurt through the pages, even though he was the strongest, he was still human. He was still capable of feeling sadness, pain, and grief.

She knew he was just a fictional character, but to her he was more. She loved him in a way she wished he was real, he was a fictional character tho, and hardly he would become real.

Still, she loved Gojo Satoru with all her heart, evertyhing in him enchanted her, from how he cared about his students to his cocky personality. She knew that her friends couldn't understand how much she cared about him, he didn't even exist, how could he affect her in so many ways?

Yet, there she was, wrapped in the sheets of her bed and in her pajamas while reading that manga, thank God it was late night and she was alone at home, otherwise someone would have come by to check her out - and the person would have a little surprise, seeing her with watery eyes and her red stuffy nose. How come just an arc like this one destroy her like that? How come?

"I can't read it anymore" She mumbled, leaving out a soft sneeze. "I'll finish it tomorrow. This arc is going to be my end."

And after pressing slightly the tip of her nose, she fell asleep slowly, head laying on her pillows, driving her to unknown dream places related to what happened to Gojo and the odd future of shibuya incident arc.

"Who are you?" she heard the voice before open her eyes, she felt a sweet air cherishing her face telling that there was someone closer to her. The first thing she thought was that seh was still sleeping and she was dreaming vividly.

How come I can feel anyone like this? She thought in panic. A man trespassed my house and he is in my room, I'm alone...

"Won't you open your eyes? I know you're awake" He said softly seeming to feel her fear. "I really need some answers, and you're the only one I have."

She almost yelled once she opened her eyes. Almost. Screaming requires air in her lungs, air that ran out of her when she looked at him. A man who was pretty much similar to her favorite character... Gojo? Satoru?

"This must be a dream, I am dreaming" She closed her eyes again, sheets upon her face. "This must be a dream, he's a fictional character-"

"Uh... I'm not?" He said and she could hear confusion in his tone. "Last time I checked, I'm a man in bone and flesh."

"Oh, I'm dreaming, I'm dreaming, I'm dreaming..." She pinched her arms, her cheeks, but she wouldn't wake. "Why am I not wakening?"

"Is this... because... you are already awake?" he said, and she looked at him again. Still not believing her eyes. It's not been a long time since she was crying over his sealing at the prison realm and now this?

"How?" She was out of words, the one she... loves? Her comfort character was right beside her as confused as ever, and handsome as hell. "You're more beautiful in person..." She mumbled.

"First: Yes, I am." He said with a smirk growing on his face, eyes still covered by his blindfold. "Second: I don't really know what happened, I thought this was the prison realm, but..." He pinched the tip of his nose with frustation and then looked at her, she felt her body warming as he was fully concentrated on her. "Prison realm only accepts one prisoner by turn, so once I saw you sleeping there, I realized I wasn't really trapped in there. Then where am I? Who are you?"

"O-oh I'm-" She tried to say, but the words wouldn't come out, stuttering as she was right now. She shook her head, If this is real, I have to recompose myself. "I'm Y/N and... I don't know how to explain either, but you came into my word from that little book over there" His head turned out to the manga she put on her desk before sleeping. He kept staring it for a while in silence. And an unease feeling was rising down her throat. "Say something, please."

"To be honest, this is the first time I actually have nothing to say," the sound of his voice was a muffled noise. "Last thing I remember before appearing here I was in Shibuya, fighting and..." His body became stiff as a rock, the memories were hiting him like waves, waves of sadness and hurt.

"Yeah, I know..." And she really knew, in some ways, she felt his pain, and cried because of his broken eyes and she saw him realizing Getou's body was stolen, his best friend's body.

Here they were again in this obnoxious silence, she felt sadness arising from him. She coudn't take it. If this was real, she would do something to him try to forget the pain. Even if it is just for a moment.

"Hey," she called him, taking him out of his reveries. "Wanna go downstairs to have breakfast? You seem hungry." A smile started to grow wild upon his face, and she never felt such joy.

"I was thinking you'd never ask!" He stood up in a wink of an eye, and Oh God he is tall. "I'm going first, I see you need to change your clothes." Her face became red like a tomato, remembering she was still on her pajamas all this time, the shock made her forget about it. "Unless you want me to stay..." She tried to threw her pillow on him, but he was faster and a loud sound came from the closed door. Why was her heart beating so fast?

"So, how are you?" She tried to catch his attention once more. After she showered, reality came punching her in her face. It wasn't a dream, Gojo Satoru was real and he was at her home, drinking coffee with her. She tightened her hand's grip on her mug while waiting for his aswer. It was hard to resist trying pass her thingers through his white hair, touch his clothes, his arms just to prove once more his was real indeed.

"I don't know exactly" he said with a strange voice, Is he tired? She thought. "I'm not trapped at the prison realm, but at here. I still can't help the ones I care so... Yeah, I-"

A sudden hug made him stop with his words, she mindlessly held her arms around his torso, hugging him tight with tear in her eyes. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." She coudn't stop apologizing, he probably wouldn't understand but Who cares? He mattered to her, she didn't mind anything else.

"Y/N..."He held her back, arms around her shoulders and waist. It's so warm. "You don't need to..."

"But I feel to." She stopped again what he was saying. "I can feel your sadness from here, I can feel your pain. I don't know what's happening for you to come here, but still I care about you. I cared about even without known this would happen. And now, I'm caring more and more because I know you are real."

After a moment of silence that seemed like hours, he left out a soft smile "Okay, let me hug you then". With his right hand, he took off his blindfold and she was blessed by his stunning blue eyes. Eyes that can see everything. I could easily get lost...

"Then I will be here to find you again" He said hugging her tighter than ever, the smell of black coffee surrounding them. "I still don't know what I am doing here and why, but I know that if I'm with you, we'll discover it sooner than you think."

Comments, reblogs and likes are always welcome 💛 Thanks for reading

#sofi is writing — jjks #jujutsu kaisen gojo #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo x female reader #gojo scenarios #saturo gojo #jjk gojo #gojo fanfic #gojo hcs #gojo satoru fanfic #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru fluff

157 notes · View notes

voiceless-terror · 3 years

Text

Perchance to Dream

@aspecarchivesweek Day Three: Drinks

Characters: Jonathan Sims/Martin Blackwood, Tim Stoker, Sasha James

Jon comes out to Martin. Twice.

(Ft. Kiss-Averse Jonathan Sims and Hamlet References)

__________

“Ugh, no thank you.”

Martin pauses. Sasha and Tim titter behind their hands.

And Jon, well. He’s got a look of vehement disgust written across his features, not unlike when he’s laying into what he claims is a fabricated statement. Martin can feel his face turning red at the words.

Getting Jon to come out for drinks had been the hard part. It’s one month into his tenure as Head Archivist, and everyone’s starting to feel the scope of the task ahead of them. Tim thought a ‘monthiversary’ drink was in order, and the only way to get Jon to come out was to threaten him with some sort of ill begotten information, the likes of which Martin couldn’t hear behind the closed door. Ten minutes later, Jon emerged, looking grumpier than usual (and very dashing) with a scarf around his neck. And now he sat next to him in the cozy pub booth, Martin trying very hard to remain stock-still because Jon’s leaning into his side. Perhaps he’s cold? Either way, Martin isn’t going to discourage it.

But then he’d had a few drinks and they all loosened up; even Jon’s laugh came easier. And Martin- well, Martin’s opening up a bit more than usual, chattering about his time in the library and bolstered by the smiles he receives in turn. Tim changed track to the personal, regaling them with his latest outdoor adventure while Sasha and Jon gave witty, sarcastic commentary. But then Tim directed the conversation towards him, and they seemed relatively interested in his poetry. He even felt comfortable enough to rattle out a few lines from his phone in a desperate hope to impress, and he stupidly chose one that referenced ‘lips like a rosebud’ and Jon reacts like he’s read a particularly saucy bit of a smut novel aloud. How embarrassing.

“Whew,” Tim whistles lowly, folding his arms behind his neck with an exaggerated wince. “Harsh, boss.”

“No, that’s not it,” Jon says, shaking his head and putting a hand on Martin’s arm. Putting a hand on Martin’s arm. Putting a hand- “Martin, your poetry is fine, if a bit derivative.” Jon thinks his poetry is fine and he’s got his small, fine-boned hand on Martin’s arm and god, he’s got a poem about that too, somewhere in his phone-

Tim guffaws, slamming a hand on the table and startling Sasha. “What a compliment!”

“It’s just…kissing. Lips. Ugh.” Jon smashes his fork rather violently into a dumpling, sending bits of food flying across the table, one of which hit Tim directly above his eye. “I eat with my mouth.”

“Wise observation.”

“Very astute of you.”

Martin would join in on the banter but Jon’s hand is still on his arm and his warm weight is pressing into his side. Honestly, what’s Jon playing at? He could rip the poetry to shreds in front of him but as long as that hand remains on his arm he’d just sit there, not saying a word. Hell, he’d probably even agree.

“So the bossman doesn’t like kisses,” Tim says, taking an obnoxiously loud sip of whatever fruity beverage he’d decided on. “Is that why you ripped down all of my mistletoe back in research?”

Jon. Mistletoe. Hand still on arm.

“I don’t like any of it,” Jon says, removing his hand from Martin’s arm to make a decisive gesture across the table which nearly sent his drink flying. He instantly misses the pressure but the warmth is still there, burning through his sleeve. Jon looks incredibly drunk, now that Martin’s got a better angle to view his flushed cheeks and bright eyes and lips- “All that touching. I don’t understand why everyone’s so hung up on it. No thank you, not for me.”

A brief flash of understanding lights Sasha’s eyes but Martin’s not in a place to decipher it. He’s not sure if it’s the drink or the Jon-of-it-all that’s impeding him. He’s never seen him so relaxed, so animated about something that’s not work. He can’t even focus on the words coming out of Jon’s mouth at the moment.

But Sasha leans forward- once she’s got an idea in her head, she won’t let go until she’s seen it through. Martin recognizes that look. “You’re asexual, then?”

“Mm,” Jon mumbles, his head tilting back dangerously as he puts on an affected, exaggerated voice. “Man delights not me, no, nor woman neither.”

And then Martin’s gone, suddenly struck by a vision of teenage Jon, silhouetted on a stage by a dramatic spotlight, reciting Shakespeare like a born thespian- look, Martin despises theater, but even he’s not immune to Hamlet. In a dream world he’d be Ophelia, no, not Ophelia, idiot- maybe he’s a stage hand, or no, he helps Jon with his quick changes, that’s a job, right? So caught up is he in this pseudo-high school fantasy that the words being said don’t actually dawn on him until a full minute later, when Tim’s laughter reaches a crescendo.

“Boss, did you seriously just come out via Shakespeare?”

Jon’s not even denying it, giving a lazy, good-natured smile in response. Fuck. Here he is, having some stupid fantasy over his boss who is very much right next to him and very much not interested. God, is he taking advantage? He jumps to the side, trying desperately to put a few more inches of space between them for Jon’s comfort when that small hand comes back to his arm, the sudden and strong grip stopping him in his tracks.

“No!” Jon’s voice is low, those dark eyes so intense. Martin can feel his face go scarlet from his gaze alone. “This is nice. I like it.”

Tim and Sasha share an evil little smile and Martin’s out of commission, the night’s revelations and Jon’s insistent snuggling having taken their toll. He couldn’t tell you what happened after that, how many drinks were shared or how he got home. All he remembers is the feel of Jon’s hand on his arm, his insistent closeness, and the sound of his laugh whenever Tim teased him.

The next day Jon comes in late, looking about as bad as the rest of them felt. From the way he interacts with them, it’s likely that he doesn’t even remember last night, what he did or what he said. Martin tries not to let it sting, and goes back to work, knowing there’s a side of Jon that he’ll likely never see again.

__________

“Martin, we have to...talk, if that’s alright.”

Martin pauses, a lump building in his throat. “Okay.”

He settles in on Daisy’s lumpy couch, trying not to let his apprehension show. It’s been a week since Jon got him out of the Lonely and they’re still adjusting, but Martin likes to think they’re settling into a nice routine. There’s such a natural ease to their domesticity; they had their differences, sure, but he’s never seen the man so soft and unguarded, puttering around the cottage, making sure everything’s nice and comfortable for the two of them. And of course, there’s the bed situation. Only one, like in all the cliché fanfiction Martin had taken to reading back when he lived in the Archives and his biggest problem was worms. Maybe Jon doesn’t want to share anymore? He’s been strangely distant the past day, keeping space between them and hovering about in a nervous manner. He goes back through their interactions, trying to think of what he could’ve done wrong.

Jon sits down next to him, his face showing his own apprehension. “I know we’ve been getting...close, this past week. But if we’re going to ah, have an, er- well, you know, relationship- there’s some things you need to know.” Relationship. Jon thinks they're in a relationship. Martin didn’t want to put a label to it, too afraid it would shatter the fragile trust they built. But to be in a relationship with Jon, well, that’s something he’s always dreamed of, right?

So he relaxes minutely, tries not to show the utter joy he feels at the words. “Alright. What’s up?”

Jon takes a steadying breath, looking so oddly grave that Martin immediately wants to take him into his arms. “I don’t...well, I’m asexual. So I’m not really interested…” he makes a vague gesture down towards Martin’s crotch and then freezes, clearly embarrassed by the crudeness of the action. “I’m not interested in all of...that. Or kissing, for that matter. It’s just a personal boundary for me, if that’s alright.”

Oh. Martin blinks, taking in Jon’s serious countenance and hopeful eyes and while he wants to match it, he can’t control the laughter that bubbles out of his throat. “Oh-oh Jon-”

Jon immediately blanches, his brow furrowing in confusion and probably hurt. “W-What? What’s so funny?”

“I’m sorry! Fuck-it’s, it’s not that, that’s fine, it’s just-” Martin tries desperately to keep his laughter under control and fails. Christ, he can’t breathe. “Man delights not me, no, nor woman neither!”

“Why are you quoting Shakespeare?” Jon’s looking at him like he’s lost his mind. Perhaps he has.

“Because you did, you daft thing!” Martin’s shoulders shake with the effort of containing himself, and he wipes a tear from his eye. He immediately puts a hand on Jon’s arm, a mirror’s reflection of that night at the bar and yet it’s still his hand that burns. “Jon, it’s fine. I already know. You told us over drinks my first month in the Archives.”

Jon’s face takes on that peculiar look of confusion and concentration that Martin loves, as if he’s searching his mind or maybe even the Eye for information. “I-oh. Oh!” He puts his head in his hands with a groan, ignoring Martin’s comforting pats to the back. “How embarrassing.”

“It was adorable.”

“No it wasn’t,” Jon whines into his hands even as he leans into Martin’s touch.

“It was,” Martin assures him, drawing him close to his side and letting him lean his head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry I laughed- you were just so serious, I couldn’t help it-”

“Yes, well,” Jon sighed, settling into his arms, the beginnings of a smile on his face. “It’s fine. As long you’re alright with…”

“More than alright.” It’s Jon, of course it’s alright. Being here with him, in their little shabby oasis- well, it’s more than enough. They sit there in silence for some time, Martin enjoying the closeness of the man he’d fought so hard to protect finally in his arms. He’s starting to think they just might be alright. He smiles to himself, perching his chin on top of Jon’s head.

“To be or not to be-”

“Shut up, Martin.”

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28741983

#my writing #aspecarchives #tma #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #jonmartin #asexual jonathan sims #cw drinking #gratuitous use of hamlet #the gay agenda

346 notes · View notes

avengerscompound · 3 years

Text

Small Gods: Patience - 4

Patience: A Black Widow Fanfic

Patience Masterlist | More Small Gods PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader

Rating: E

Word Count: 1786

Warnings: canon typical violence

Synopsis: Every day Natasha prays for more patience to deal with a litany of things from waiting for her target to make a move - to not yelling at Clint for putting empty milk containers back in the fridge.

When her prayers are answered, Natasha finds that having patience is easy, holding on to it is a little harder.

Chapter 4

Natasha was not good at emotions. She didn’t like them - so she buried them. It was better to be the cold and heartless assassin who could be killed at any moment than to risk being hurt in a way that mattered. She shut people out and pushed them towards others so at least she could see what being happy might look like on someone else, even if she never felt it herself.

Except - Natasha was happy.

It took her a little while to realize that was what the feeling was. She recognized happiness in those short joyful bursts where she’d be with a group of people you care about and they’ve all let their walls down and just briefly she would too. That quick burst of serotonin never lasted but always felt good while she had it.

That was nothing like what she was feeling now. It was a long-term contentedness, mixed with hope, and just enough excitement to keep her interested. It was scary really. She was vulnerable. She had something to lose.

Yet all around her things seemed better. Food tasted better. Spending time with her friends felt different - she could connect with them more. Even Clint’s annoying habits seemed to lean more to funny than annoying.

The others noticed it. Sometimes Clint would flinch when he made some stupid joke - like he was expecting to get cuffed on the back of the head, and when it didn’t come he’d look at her suspiciously - almost as if he thought she was saving up to get him later.

She put it all down to you.

Natasha was falling for you. Hard. She sought you out in her free time, and you popped in her head even at awkward times like on missions. You had cracked through her hard outer shell and even though she was scared of her soft parts being exposed, it felt good.

“Nat, head in the game,” Steve shouted.

Natasha whipped around to see a HYDRA agent running directly at her. She flipped forward, kicking them in the head and then following through with her baton. The agent practically flew backward and landed in a heap.

“Nat’s daydreaming about her lover again,” Tony teased as he blasted his way through a bunker.

Natasha scowled. She had been distracted, and she had been thinking about you. This kind of grunt work always felt mindless and repetitive, like putting books into boxes. She was a spy - not a soldier and it was easy to start thinking about other things when she was doing such repetitive work, but usually, the only thing she had occupying her mind was the job and the mindless banter happening over the comms.

“Please never say lover again, Tony,” Clint teased. “That gave me the heebie-jeebies.”

“Thor says it all the time!” Tony argued.

“Yeah, but that’s Thor!” Clint said. “Thor can say all kinds of weird shit and it sounds good. Doesn’t mean you get to.”

“Why thank you, Barton,” Thor chuckled. “That is very flattering.”

“I’m as good as Thor!” Tony yelped.

There was a sudden group shouting of dissent and Natasha couldn’t help the smile that crossed her face. She had always had such a love-hate relationship with the group’s banter during battle. It was nice being part of them, and she did enjoy dropping her own snarky comment into the mix but growing up the way she did - fights were serious - fun was for other people. It felt slightly wrong to be joking while you were also fighting for her life.

“Let’s all agree right now that no one, not even Thor mentions anything about my lovers,” Natasha snarked.

The group continued to fight, Natasha pushing all thoughts of you down and focusing on the job. By the time everyone had been arrested, the operation had been shut down and Natasha had performed the lullaby on Hulk, it was late and Natasha was exhausted to the bone.

She piloted the Quin back silently, just listening to Clint jabber away as her thoughts drifted back to you. She knew there would be a debrief to go to, but what she really wanted was to go straight to your place and curl up next to you before passing out for a good twelve hours.

She could wait. She was better at that now. Besides, it was worth the wait.

She guided the jet down onto the launch pad and as it drew the jet down into the hanger, she and Clint began the cool-down procedures. The back of the jet opened up and everyone got up and trudged off.

When Clint got up to disembark, Steve took his place. “What happened out there today?” He asked. “You nearly lost your head.”

“That’s why we’re a team, isn’t it?” Natasha asked. “Make sure no one misses anything? Get each other’s backs?”

“Of course,” Steve assured her. “And we’re all here to pick up the slack.”

“I’m hearing a big ‘but’ coming,” Natasha said.

Steve smiled and shook his head. “But…” he said. “It’s not like you, Nat. You always have your head in the game more than anyone else. You’re the one I don’t have to worry about. So when I do, it worries me. Is everything okay?”

Natasha frowned. Her head wasn’t in the game. Steve was right. She was happy and happiness meant her work was suffering.

“Everything is fine, Steve,” she said.

“You sure?” Steve said. “I’m only asking as a friend. If there was something up, I’d want to help.”

“It’s fine. I’ll sort it out,” Natasha said.

Natasha was exhausted by the time she showed up at your place. She hadn’t slept for almost thirty-six hours and she thought that she’d broken a rib in the battle. She needed to see you though. Rip it off like a band-aid. She liked you. She liked you a lot. So much that if she didn’t cut it off now it was going to turn into love and once that happened, she wouldn’t be able to do it. If she was with you, she would be worse at her job, and if she didn’t have her job, she was nothing.

She knocked on your door.

She could hear you singing on the other side and when you pulled the door open your whole face lit up. “Tasha!” You squeaked and launched yourself into her arms. She made a pained ‘oof’ sound as you wrapped your arms around her, but that didn’t hurt as much as her heart did right at this moment. You were always so cool and put together, the excitement and pure joy you expressed seeing her were too much. Natasha was going to hurt you and it was going to kill her to do it. “I didn’t know you were back. I am so happy to see you.”

“Krasotka,” Natasha said, closing her arms around you and breathing you in.

You must have heard the pain in her voice because you pulled back immediately and looked you over. “Are you hurt?” You asked, pulling her inside. “Let me get you some ice.”

“It’s fine,” Natasha assured you. “I’m fine.”

“I can tell you aren’t,” you said, guiding her to the couch and almost pushing her down on it to sit. “What do you need? Have you eaten? I can get you food. Something to drink?” You paused and quirked your eyebrow. “Earth-shattering orgasm?”

“Sit down, Krasotka,” she said. “We need to talk.”

You narrowed your eyes and took a seat, folding your arms over your chest. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

Natasha nodded. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“‘This’ as in ‘us’?” You asked.

“That’s right,” Natasha said. Her heart was already hurting. She wished she was a stronger person. Someone who was allowed to have everything. Someone who could be in love and do her job. Someone who could be happy and not feel like the world was falling apart because of it.

“I supposed I should be glad you’re doing this in person,” you said, sitting back in your chair. “Do I get a reason?”

“Does it matter?” Natasha asked.

You nodded. “Yes. Because I know you’re happy when you’re with me, and I know you like me, so whatever it is, is stupid and if you say it out loud, I’m hoping you’ll be smart enough to figure that out yourself. I have faith in you.”

“I do like you,” Natasha said. “This isn’t about you. It’s about me.”

“Wow,” you scoffed, raising your hands. “I don’t think I have ever gotten the ol’ it’s not you, it’s me before. Continue.”

Natasha was getting angry now. She had expected you to be upset, not hostile. She had prepared for tears and begging, not to be told she was an idiot. She sat up straight and folded her arms. “This is hard for me, okay? I don’t owe you an explanation. It was fun. But now it’s over.”

“And that’s that?” You said.

“Yes,” Natasha said, getting up. “That’s that.”

You stood up too, bailing her up against the wall. She was half tempted to actually fight you. If that’s what you wanted to make this, she was quite capable of kicking your ass. You brought your face close to hers, she could feel the warmth of your breath on her lips. “You’re making a mistake, Natasha. I don’t know what happened while you were gone that got you all up in your head and made you think you don’t deserve me, but it doesn’t really matter. The world is not a place of fairness or balance. It’s just random chaos and in that, you called to me and I came. You’re going to realize that breaking up is a mistake. I know you will because it is. We’re good together and you wanted me. I can wait. I’m very patient.”

A million different arguments popped into Natasha’s head but instead, she just pushed you away and stormed out. She had never felt the desire to cry as much as she did right now. Her heart felt like it had been shattered into a million pieces and she’d done it to herself. She walked down the street not even knowing where she was headed, all she knew was that she wanted to go back up to you and tell you she was sorry and that you were right, but her anger and her pigheadedness stopped her. There was a bar on the corner, she went straight inside. She wouldn’t cry but she would drink. Maybe she’d even find someone to take her home tonight. Right now she’d do anything to stop herself from thinking that she’d made a huge mistake.

// NEXT

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #black widow fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #small gods #patience

104 notes · View notes

come-on-shitty-boys · 4 years

Text

//fatherhood headcannons//

Characters: Kuroo Tetsurou / Bokuto Koutarou / Daishou Suguru

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1.7K (~550 a piece)

Notes: don’t come for me and my self-indulgence. Also >:C if you’re of age and living in the United States, go fucking vote. i am not asking.

Kuroo Tetsurou

He goes into this whole fatherhood thing with complete and utter confidence. Kuroo Tetsurou is convinced that he doesn’t need to have a single parenting book. How hard can it be?

It’s all just making sure his kid doesn’t die, right? R I G H T?

He tries really hard to understand all of your discomforts during the pregnancy, but wowowow he’s bad at it. You were complaining that your feet were sore and he just looked at you weird. You had just gotten out of bed? How did your feet already hurt? Your back hurts? How? You’re laying down?

He recognizes that you’re in discomfort and he, of course, doesn’t look past that. He’s going to do whatever he needs to do to ensure your comfort, but he just struggles to comprehend it.

I promise that Kuroo was so calm and cool and collected throughout the entire pregnancy and honestly, even during delivery, he was there to tell you how great you were doing, holding your hand, letting you crush his fingers in your tight grip. He would pat your head and occasionally give you little kisses on your temple.

But when the nurse asks if he wants to hold his new little girl and places her in his arms, oh he’s crying. He doesn’t even realize that he’s crying until he feels the tears stream down his cheeks.

It was in the following weeks that he realized just how hard this whole parenting thing would be. Sleep? Kuroo didn’t know her. The baby religiously started crying every night at 2:27 a.m. and it would take nearly an hour to get her to fall back asleep. By the time that hour passed, he was already back to being wide awake and would just lay in bed, unable to fall back asleep for hours.

The first time he ever had to change a diaper, he had to pull up a YouTube video to figure it out, but he’s not about to tell you that.

He has no idea how to dad, but Kuroo ends up being a really incredible father. While he may be lacking in the basic skills like knowing the correct formula temperature or how to properly hold his daughter, he makes up for it with his constant companionship.

You’ve walked in on him in the nursery so many times. He’s really not even doing anything. He’s just leaning against the crib, running his fingers across his little girl’s skin, still not believing that this is real and that that little baby is his, something that he helped create. Oh, it just makes him so soft to think about. He talks real quietly to her, telling her about his day, like she has any idea what he’s saying, but he still smiles so wide when she looks at him.

His little girl is his entire world and I just know that he’s an incredibly protective father. He knows that the world is a scary place and he wants his daughter to be able to grow up having the best life possible, even if it is difficult.

Bokuto Koutarou

It was an accident. It was 100% an accident. But, the absolute joy that lit up his features when you told him your happy news, well, you don’t think you had ever seen him smile so wide. He had picked you up to spin you around and covered your face in kisses. Bokuto had set you down and immediately squatted down to place a kiss on your non-existent baby bump, telling his little baby how excited he was to be their papa.

Bokuto does prepare, well, at least a little. He owns one book, but he has read it cover to cover. When he was reading through it, he would stop at something that he found particularly interesting and show it to you.

He didn’t really know how best to take care of you, but he tried his best! He would rub your shoulders or feet when you asked. He would make dinner after practice. He is absolutely running to the store in the middle of the night because you had a sudden craving for Cheetos and vanilla ice cream. Bokuto thought it was best not to ask what the hell you were doing when you proceeded to dip the Cheetos in the ice cream.

Bokuto forces you on walks. He read in that one pregnancy book that walks can help induce labor, so in the time leading up to the due date, Bokuto was taking you on strolls around the block multiple times a day.

But, he gets really busy with MSBY ;-; like. . . a lot. He wants to be there every step of the way, but he just can’t. Even after the baby was born, it seemed like there was rarely a day off for him to just spend with you and the baby.

Nothing hurt more than seeing the video of his little boy taking his first steps, knowing that he wasn’t even there to see it for himself because he was stuck on a bus in another city for a game.

This boy B R A G S about his kid all the time. Sakusa might just beat his ass if he has to hear Bokuto coo about his son one more time.

Games that happen at home are Bokuto’s favorites because he knows that whenever he looks up into the stands, you’ll be there, the baby in your arms, a tiny black knit hat with gold detailing pulled over his head. It always made his heart so warm and he seemed to always be on top of his game just so he could secure a win quicker. He just wanted to rush to you and cradle his little one in his arms.

He likes to toss his little bean up into the air, but he has absolutely bonked his son’s head on the ceiling and then proceeded to fail to catch him because he was so in shock that he just hit his son’s head on the ceiling. Insert one (1) bokuto koutarou suddenly regretting every life decision that he has ever made.

Surprisingly, he’s a really good parent? He understands the balance between being caring and supportive, but also having a firm hand on discipline. He isn’t much for punishments, because he’s going to feel bad, but he won’t hesitate to sit his son down and have a talk if he needs to.

God Bokuto is such a good dad please i’m so soft i just know that he would sob his eyes out the minute the baby is on its way

Daishou Suguru

please i don’t even want children, but i would make an exception for daishou suguru

Suguru is so?? stupidly?? prepared??

Like the two of you decided that you wanted to have a baby and this man went to the bookstore and asked one of the workers which pregnancy books were the best. The poor high school student had no idea

He took notes and was just constantly studying up on things. You’d think he was back in university again with how much he poured himself over these books.

While Daishou may have all of the technical stuff down like knowing the exact female reproductive anatomy and how it all works to produce the baby and he can definitely change a diaper with his eyes closed by now, but-

When the time came to put together a nursery- oh the boy was lost. He had no idea what to do. He’d never built a crib before. He wasn’t really sure why he was expecting it to just unfold or magically form together when he took it out of the box, but now he was just sitting in the middle of the floor, surrounded by bits and pieces of a baby crib, pouring over the instructions, only to get more confused.

Please go sit with him in his time of need. He’ll rest his head on your shoulder and rub tiny circles over your bump.

Suguru probably jumped a foot in the air when he felt that itty bitty kick against his hand. It took him by complete surprise and his eyes were as wide as saucers, but this really slow smile took over his face and you don’t think you had ever seen him so happy, a complete smiling and laughing mess.

He takes the best care of you b y e

Morning sickness? He’s right there to pull your hair away from your face and get you a glass of water.

Too bad he spent all this time looking up information on the actual pregnancy and had no idea what to expect for actual childbirth. Overnight bag? He said, “How long does this take?” He had no idea what to do during delivery. His dumbass just stood there until you demanded that he give you his hand and definitely screamed when you nearly crushed his bones in an absolute death grip, nails digging painfully into the back of his hand, but who was he to object. He wasn’t the one pushing a child out of his body.

Oh, did I say child? Try children. Suguru nearly fainted when the nurse said that there was “one more.” He didn’t remember seeing a second little peanut on the ultrasound, but maybe he just forgot in the overwhelming panic of the moment?

He was so good all throughout the pregnancy, but the minute the kids are born? It’s like he completely forgot everything that he read over the past nine months, but the softness in his eyes and the gentle smile on his lips the very first time he got to hold his kid? It made it all worth it. He didn’t know that it was possible to love someone so quickly, but he looked at the faces of his newborn children and he couldn’t have been happier.

Daishou has fallen asleep in the nursery chair more than once when he was up with the babies. You’d get up to see what was taking so long, only to find him leaned back, his head lolled to the side, two tiny bundles held securely to his chest.

In conclusion. I love daishou suguru and he would be a really good dad once he figured it all out

{Taglist: @moncymonce @nicka-nell @celosiiaa @kuronekomama @lovinnoya and @nekxrizawa @boosyboo9206 bc you both got me thinking about them as d a d s and now i can’t get it out of my head onyx please take this as a bribe to receive the daishou suguru hip dermal edit you made i need it}

404 notes · View notes

jack-enbyfold · 3 years

Text

Little Soldier Boy

egginnit go brrrr

TW: Sleep stuff (I don’t know the term for it), manipulation

The cold spring air of the SMP felt like knives against Tommy’s skin as he stumbled home. The panicked energy of the revival had worn off and the exhaustion had set deep in his bones. He collapsed onto his bed, arms wrapped tightly around himself. He didn't want to fall asleep, scared that if his eyes closed they wouldn’t open again, but his brain felt like it was wrapped in cotton and his eyelids felt like lead. As he drifted off, he failed to see the small clump of crimson starting to creep up his wall.

Tommy yawned, the chilling air and rough wood of the Prime Path setting his senses alight again. He looked around, realizing fairly quickly he was half way to L’Mancreator. For fucks sake, he was sleepwalking again. He hadn’t done that since...he hadn’t done it in a while. Tommy let out another yawn and started to trudge back to his home.

Sleep this time wasn’t dreamless. L’Manburg stretched out in front of him, untouched. Original L’Manburg. His- Wilbur’s L’Manburg. The starchiness of his shirt and the extra layers he could feel reminded him of his uniform. A sudden hand on his shoulder caused a shock to go through his body and he turned quick enough for it to be shaken off.

There was some guy. Tommy didn’t recognize him (though a voice at the back of his head told him he should if he was in his dreams). The man looked upset at Tommy’s reaction, red hair falling over wide green eyes. Tommy felt his heart sink a little. Add this random guy to the list of people he upset. The redhead looked over at L’Manburg, Tommy joining him. It’s just a dream, no one can hurt him here.

“Where are we?” Tommy lets out a heavy sigh.

“My home. It’s gone now.” The man hummed, sticking his hands in the pockets of the hoodie he was wearing.

“You sound tired. More then you should.” Tommy lets out a groan this time. He could vent here, this was just a dream.

“I’m always tired, man...”

-----

Tommy’s dreams stopped for a bit after that conversation. Annoyingly, the sleep walking didn’t. Multiple times a week, he’d find himself on the Prime Path, always facing the same direction. Towards L’Manburg. He let out a sigh, walking back to the warmth of his house. He was so sick of this. Sick of being stressed. Sick of always being too tired to do anything productive. He rubbed his eyes, letting out a yawn as he fell into his bed, asleep practically the moment his head but the pillow.

…This time, it was New L'Manburg. He only briefly got to see it in its prime but it was beautiful. Tubbo and Ghostbur did a good job. That doesn't mean it felt like home.

The red head was there again, looking over the country from their shared viewpoint. Tommy cakes to sit next to him, tucking his knees into his chest. The man-Red-gave him a smile.

"Hi again, Tommy!"

"Hey..."

"I missed you! We haven't talked in a while, I hoped you'd come see me so much." Tommy laughs awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Yeah, sorry about that, haven't been sleeping too good."

"Well, now you're here! You're safe with me, Tommy. I can't hurt you even if I wanted to." Tommy leans back, getting comfortable on the grass.

"Yeah...Red?"

"Yes, Tommy?"

"Why are you here?" Red just shrugged in response.

"Dreams are just weird sometimes. We both want company and safety, I guess. I wouldn't worry about it too much."

"If you say so, man."

-----

Tommy's dreams were more consistent from then. Always at L'Manburg, always on that hill, unable to get any closer. Red wasn't always there, sometimes Tommy would spend nights on that hill alone. He hated those nights.

The state of L'Manburg had been consistent. Until it wasn't.

Tonight, he looked over at L'Manburg's ruins. Tommy bit back the tears he could feel welling up. He could handle this while he was awake, why was it harder when he was asleep? Red walked up behind him, eyes soft.

"I'm sorry."

"... 's not your fault..."

"If there's anything I can do-" Red was cut off by a choked sob.

"I-I just want to rest...I don't even know if I know how..."

"Let me take care of it. You won't have to worry anymore, I promise."

-----

Punz didn't know why the egg wanted them specifically. Normally, it called for Bad or even Ant sometimes, they weren't its most active follower. But the egg called for them and so they had to answer.

There was someone else here. Punz gripped the hilt of their sword tighter as they made their way over to the person curled into a clump of vines. They gently moved some of the vines to reveal-

"Wait, Tommy?!" The teen stirred, confirming that he was actually alive and the pink of his cheeks was pronounced against the new bleached white of his top. Punz felt a cocktail of emotions swell up inside them. The relief the kid they tried to save was back, the sickly artificial excitement that another person had realized the joy of the egg, the quick tang of pity that was quickly suppressed by the suffocating calm the egg provided. They gently shook the sleeping teen's shoulder, encouraged by the echoing voice that surrounded the two of them. Hazy red met bright crimson as Tommy blinked awake.

"Punz, I-" Tommy cut himself off with a yawn.

Take care of him, Punz. This one's important.

#dsmp #look guys i finally made my own egginnit thing #eggpire #egginnit #tommyinnit #dream smp punz #punz #mcyt #dsmp fanfic #is this a part one?#idk

108 notes · View notes

animeyanderelover · 3 years

Note

I'd love to see prompt 125. “I could have easily murdered you without hesitation. But those angelic eyes made me dizzy and weak.” with Kimimaro!

It’s been a long time since I wrote anything about him so I’m happy to fulfill that wish.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessiveness, overprotectiveness, delusions, violence, blood, death, killing

Prompt 125: “I could have easily murdered you without hesitation. But those angelic eyes made me dizzy and weak.”

"You don't have to be scared of me. I won't hurt you." It was funny that you were the one saying that when the stranger in front of you was pointing something that reminded you awfully lot of a bone at your throat, looking at you with a warily look in his green eyes. You had never seen him before in here, making you suspect that he was from elsewhere. And judging from his dirtied and slightly torn clothes as well as the fact that he seemed to be a bit too skinny for his own health, you felt confident in believing that he was a stray, maybe even a rogue.

He didn't strike you as the very talkative type. Since he had sneaked from you up behind, he hadn't said a single word, only staring at you with those haunting green eyes of his at you. From the way they moved slowly up and down, you knew he was judging how much of a threat you were and from the way he seemed to loosen up a bit you guessed, he didn't think of you as too much of troubles. But he was still smart enough to not let his guard down.

You were quite good in reading people, maybe because you were a medic. He hadn't had any reason to attack you, you hadn't even sensed him before he had held that sword made of bones at you. And he didn't seem like someone who would kill just everyone, especially if they hadn't even sensed his presence. He just seemed like someone who had a strange dignity around himself, making him not a mindless killer. No, you had met people a bit similar to him before. They killed for a reason. To survive.

"You want this, don't you?", you asked politely, lifting a small box which contained food, the lid had already been opened since this had actually been your lunch. He didn't answer, but the way his eyes constantly glanced at the lunchbox told you enough. You let out an amused huff. "You didn't have to threaten me just for food. You could have just asked me and I would have given you some. But I guess if I would have been in your situation, I would have done the same. Only living from what you find in the forest is not really enough to give you enough energy."

You couldn't move too hastily or he would slit your throat, so you lifted very slowly your hands, offering him your lunch. "You can have it. I think you need it more than me. I can just skip lunch and eat something later when I'm back home." His eyebrow seemed to move a few milimeters, telling you that he was a bit surprised by this sudden act of yours. Was he seriously suspecting you because you were kind?

"It's impolite to reject my offer, especially considering the fact that this is what you threatened me for in the first place. I really don't plan on hurting you or attacking you. I think it's obvious who from us both is the more experienced one when it comes to fighting. I'm merely a small medic. I only came here in the first place to collect some herbs. I sadly couldn't collect all the ones I wanted. The ones on the small mountains nearby are hard to find...But back to you. Here, I really just want to help you."

Your voice had gone more softer, stretching your arms even farther out until you were nearly nudging his chest with the food, giving him a small, but warm smile. For a while he looked back and forth between you and the small box until he slowly removed the thing from your throat and to your surprise, and slight disturbance, the bone seemed to slowly crack itself down in his body, making you doubt your vision for a moment before you felt him grabbing the food out of your hands, his own fingers brushing gently against yours before he took finally your lunch from you.

"Finally. Took you long enough. Enjoy and please be careful around here. We tend to have some dangerous boars around here. They are very easily agitated and there were even cases where people already got nearly killed and suffered fatal wounds."

The man seemed to stare at you for a while, you were almost sure that he was somewhat touched from your concern and kindness, looking down at the bento box before back at you, the cold green eyes from before starting to twinkle with somethig new inside of them. "Thank you."

That was all he said before quickly disappearing in the forest, you curiously watching his white figure moving away farther and farther until you couldn't see him anymore. "I didn't even ask for his name or told him mine..."

You were quite a bit dumbfounded when later that day you were surprised by a knock on your door since your house was a bit isolated from the village and closer to the forest, only to find no one standing in front of it. That was until you glanced down and noticed two things. The first one was your bento box which you had given the mysterious stranger earlier today. The second was a huge bouquet made of herbs and wildflowers. You bent astonished down, grabbing the box and all the herbs and flowers, examining all of them and realizing with joy that there were many you hadn' been able to find yourself today.

But where was he? Had he just knocked, put the things down and left again? You hoped not, you wanted to say 'thank you' for this serve of gratitude he had showed you, going through all the troubles of collecting you all of this. But due to the darkness you sadly couldn't see much and there was still the chance he wasn't even here anymore. You felt your shoulders slumping down a bit at this thought. But you didn't know for sure if he was already gone. "Thank you a lot for this! It's really thoughtful of you! If you should stay a bit longer here, consider me as your caretaker regarding food and wounds you might get whilst being here!"

It was kind of embarrassing to just shout in the dark like this, especially if not being sure if the person for whom those words were meant wasn't even here anymore. You tried to listen intensely in the dakness to make out any noises which would confirm he was still there. And shortly after a rustling sound from one of the trees made you snap your head in it's direction, you barely making out the figure of a human disappearing in the dark which made you smile a bit. So he had been listening and watching.

"So you considered my offer, hmm?" He was keeping a lot of distance between you two, but you considered the fact that he had this time approached you instead of sneaking and threatening you like yesterday as a huge progress. He still seemed to be a bit more cautious, you guessed he hadn't really had contact with a person for quite some time.

"You know, I don't bite or anything like this. You can come without any worries closer.", you tried to beckon him closer, tilting your head a bit at him. He slightly narrowed his eyes, not in a suspecting way. More in a considering way, thinking whether to trust you or not. "You of course don't have to do so if you don't want to.", you added with a small and understanding nod, stepping back to show him that you were willing to give him space.

"No." The short answer confused you and made you halt in your tracks, giving him a questioning look. A short moment of hesitation, then he finally stepped out of the forest and closer to your small house, eyes focusing on you with a certain intensity that managed to intimidate you a bit.

"I'm honored that you seem to trust me that much despite only knowing me since yesterday. I also wanted to thank you personally once again for all the herbs and flowers you brought me. They are not that easily to find. I appreciate the effort."

"I'm glad to hear you liked it. It was the least I could do." You cracked a small smile. "I'm (y/n) (l/n). Can I know your name too?" For just a short moment you thought you saw something in his eyes, as if he felt touched to be asked for his name. It made you wonder just how long he had been wandering lonely around. "Kimimaro Kaguya."

"Kimimaro...", you repeated, letting the name flow over your tongue and Kimimaro himself seemed to perk the tiniest bit up when hearing you speaking his name. "That's a very pretty name."

The corner of his mouth seemed to twitch a bit upwards, you guessed it was the smallest sign of a smile on his face. "(y/n) is a pretty name too."

The following two weeks he visited you every day, you waiting for him outside until he showed himself. You always shared your meals with him and had also given him the luxery of fresh clothes and using your bathroom for showering. And every evening he seemed to get you small presents he collected from the forests, be that herbs, beautiful wild flowers or even going as far as hunting small animals down for you. You had told him after the second day that he didn't have to do this. And he had said with a very neutral and yet somewhat demanding voice that he owed you a lot and that at the very least he could do this for you.

He wasn't the talkative type as you noticed. Most of the times his sentences weren't longer than necessary and he seemed to much rather prefer to listen to you. And stare at you. And be near you. You couldn't really blame him. He hadn't told you his complete past, but he had briefly mentioned that his entire clan had been rottten out and that he had been wandering around for a very long time.

Another fascinating thing was his ability to harden his bones and manipulate them like he wanted to, making them stick out or even firing them out of his body. It was gruesome as much as it was amazing and you had found yourself asking him quite often to demonstrate it to you. And Kimimaro seemed to relish in the feeling that you found this so amazing. Maybe the fact that you were a medic played a part in it, you wanted to understand and you couldn't remember getting him to talk longer than during his explanations how his kekkai genkai, the Shikotsumyaku, worked. He had even gifted you a small part of his bones which had been thoughtful as much as it had been disturbing for you. But you had reluctantly excepted after noticing how hurt, as hurt as he could seem to be, he had been.

He was always lingering somewhere near your house and by now you had understood why. He repaid your kindness and nurturing with the small presents and his protection which was of course just him being grateful, but it also was a bit unnerving. But that was all it was...for a short while at least.

"Kimimaro." He seemed to flinch when hearing your sudden firm voice calling him like this and as soon as you stepped into the room, he was already by your side, examining you with slightly worried eyes. "What happened? Are you angry with me?" His voice, despite sounding calm, was a bit too rushed which hinted you that he was nervous, all attention hooked on you even more than usually.

"Did you kill it?" You just went straight to the point, crossing your arms before your chest and giving him a strict and expecting look. Luckily he seemed to understand immediatly what you meant, confirming it with a firm nod. "Yes, I killed the boar if that is what you meant." At least he was bluntly honest with you.

"May I ask why?" Kimimaro blinked, almost as if he couldn't get why you were asking such an obvious question. "It was too close to your house. You told me yourself that they are very aggressive. I didn't want it anywhere near you and risking the chance of you getting hurt."

Your mouth was slightly opened, staring nonbelieving at him. "Kimimaro! The villagers found the poor animal on the border of the forest whilst hunting! A clean strike through the throat and the it's stomach! The poor thing drowned in it's own blood! It was nowhere near my house, it was most likely moving away from it! Did you hear me? The border of of the forest!"

You were bewildered and it was audible due to you nearly shouting at him. If he was hurt because of it, this time he managed to hide it. "As I said,", he told you in a serious voice,"too close to you. I can't risk anything potentially dangerous near you."

From there on it seemed to only get worse with his rapidly increasing protective-...No. With his rapidly increasing overprotectiveness which started to horrify you more and more.

"Who was that guy talking to you in the village?" You nearly let the plate you were currently cleaning fall onto the ground if it wouldn't have been for Kimimaro catching it and laying it back down in the sink. "Be careful. You might cut yourself on the broken pieces of it."

He was worrying about that, you on the other hand felt horror washing over you like the water just minutes ago over the plate. The knowledge that he was standing right behind you, so close that you could feel his chest pressing against yours, added only up to the horror shaking you up.

"Kimimaro...", you couldn't suppress the slight quivering in your voice. You felt him jolting up a bit when hearing his name, making him lean even closer to you until you could feel him trapping you between the sink and his slender yet also very muscular body. "Yes?"

You tried your hardest to not shake now that he would be able to feel it. "Did...did you follow me the whole time whilst I was in the city?"

"I did. I was watching over you so I could protect you. And that man there...He was walking behind you and gave you weird and disgusting looks. I didn't like it. And he constantly tried to talk to you despite you obviously not liking. He made you uncomfortable. Should I kill him for you?"

Your body snapped in a painful way around, your nosetip instantly meeting his and your wide and panicking eyes in his. "Killing him?! Are you serious?!" The stern and stoic expression he gave you, made your heart sink in your stomach. "It's your safety I'm talking about. It's the most important thing for me. It's the only thing that matters. I am serious."

You felt sweat starting to collect on your forehead, eyes shooting quickly around in hopes of finding a way to prevent him from killing someone. He meant it, you just felt it. But even without looking at him, you could feel his eyes still on yours.

"You don't have to do this! That guy is a shameless playboy, he does this to everyone!" You hoped to calm him down a bit by telling him this, but his facial expression didn't change one bit.

"It doesn't matter to me that he does this to everyone. I only care about that he does it to you. He even attempted to touch you." His one hand brushed your arm up and down, eyes seemingly deep in thoughts for a moment whilst doing so and you gained almost the expression that he looked dreamy before his eyes returned to it's cold-hearted look. "And I have to remove everyone and everything that threatens to hurt or do as much as touch a strand of your hair."

"You have to?" Why did he make it sound like it was his duty. "Yes. I have to. I have to protect you under all means necessary. And I'm thinking that it would be the best if you would just start staying in and let me do everything. I'll get you everything you need and you just stay in this house. It's the best thing to do for your safety."

You wanted to say something, but for a moment were too shocked and flabbergasted to do so. That was before anger started bubbling up in your stomach.

"Excuse you?! Who do you think you are to order me to stay inside like this? I've been living in here far more longer than you have and I-" You were interrupted by him putting his index finger over your lips, hushing you during your starting scolding. "(y/n). Let me look after you. I have to guarantee your safety. It's the best for you, even if you are unhappy with it now, you'll understand it very soon. So don't leave this house anymore. Understood?"

"You don't have to be scared of me. I won't hurt you." A choked sob escaped your lips, remembering that you had been the one saying the same words to him the first time you had met him. But now he used those same words whilst having a tight hold on you with one of his bones being pressed against your throat. His one arm had a strong hold on your waist and as soon as you even moved a muscle, his grip tightened even more to the extent where it almost, but only almost, hurt. He seemed to still be careful to not hurt you too much.

Trying to escape hadn't been too much of a smart idea whilst he had been gone, you had maybe spent too much time freeing yourself from the ropes and breaking the door open. But still, you had taken a road that only you knew because you didn't want to risk endangering the villagers. And despite him being the faster one, you had a good head start and had even erased your traces by moving the biggest part through a river.

"How did you even find me?", you asked in a quiet voice, sounding and looking discouraged. "Your bracelet. You have a piece of my bone as a tag. And I can track my bones down wherever I want to. That's how I found you."

You glanced at your bracelet, to be specific at the small white bone of it, next to many other small and pretty tags you had on it. It had been a present from your deceased grandparents which was why you always wore it. "Did you plan this beforehand so you could find me wherever I go?", you asked, still in the same quiet voice. You couldn't see his face since he was standing behind you, but you thought that there was slight disappointment and sadness in his voice. "I did, but I actually hoped I wouldn't have to use it. I was hoping you would understand my intentions to keep you safe and comply."

"Do you expect me to just sit down and do nothing whilst I'm being isolated from the outside plan. And the final blow was when you informed me a yesterday that we would move somewhere 'safe'. What is that supposed to mean? Somewhere where no one will find me and you can keep me for yourself? Far away from any other humans? Is that what you mean? I have family here Kimimaro. Friends. Patients. You can't just take me like this. And why would you even do this? Why go so far for me? What did I do?"

The moment you felt the slight pricking of the sharp bone being removed from you, you let a long breath out which you had seemed to have hold for the whole time until now. But the relief was short-lived because in the next moment you were turned around, forced to face Kimimaro.

Your first reflex was to push him away, both of your hands pressing against his chest and trying to push him away. But it was from no use, not with his other arm now sliding around your waist as well and pulling you so close to him that your chest was pushed against his. And all your struggling suddenly stopped when he leaned closer to you and pressed his forehead against your slightly sweaty and wet one, green eyes drilling themselves into you with a mindblowing fondness and affection which you had never seen before on his face.

It became quiet, the silence only being interrupted by the swooshing of the water, the random noises of the forest and the breathing of you two, his relaxed and slow whilst yours was slightly erratic. But being forced to feel his chest rising and falling with every breath he took, led you subconsciously to start breathing with him. But despite his calm breathing, you clearly felt his increased heart beat, swiftly hammering against his rib cage and against your fingertips resting on his chest.

"You did everything for me. You changed everything for me." His voice was slightly shaking as well, but not out of fear or nervousness. It was out of joy and pure affection. "You gave my life a meaning again. Thanks to you my name has a meaning again. It's been such a long time since someone called me by it, I almost forgot who I was. But you...you said my name and suddenly I knew again who I am and who I am meant to be. You gave it and me a purpose again. On that day when we first met...I could have easily murdered you without hesitation. But those angelic eyes made me dizzy and weak."

It was unbelievable that it had barely been more than a month since then. And now look at where you two were. With you running away from the man you had so kindly invited in your house and had given him kindness and friendliness whilst no one else had. And what had it led to? Him forming a sick and obsessive infatuation with you and now wanting to kidnap you to 'protect' you.

"You might never be able to understand just how much you did for me and how much you mean to me. But you don't have to. You only have to understand that I can simply not effort to lose you or let as much as a scratch on you. You're my reason to live, to continue fighting and breathing. I will never be able to repay everything you did for me, but I can and will give my all to you. My endless protection, my infinite loyalty, my undying love. It's all yours. I'm all yours. And I'll always be."

And before you cold reply, not like you could think of anything in that moment, you felt a soft and warm pair of lips being gently pressed against yours.

#yandere naruto #yandere naruto shippuden #yandere kimimaro #yandere kimimaro kaguya

72 notes · View notes

crossedvenom · 3 years

Note

if you want to could you write a small little love at first sight trope with bakugou, sero, and denki 😅😘 if you have time and all that ofc !

Yes Ofc I can🖤🖤 I got a little caried away writing these. They longer than expected.

ty for the request (人 ◕ω◕)

_______________________________________________

Bakugo was walking down the halls with his fists balled in his pockets. He was currently resisting the urge to hit something or someone. He doesn’t know why but ever since he woke up it felt like the world was trying to purposefully piss him off.

The hallway was mostly quiet apart from the occasional student passing by. Everyone seemed to be in the lunchroom. The silence did nothing to help the growing rage that was Bakugo. All the silence did was make him think about all that went wrong that day.

First, his alarm didn’t go off so he was late to class, Then “That damn Deku” had the highest test grade in the class for Mr. Cementosss’ idiotic Math test. Whenever Midoriya beat him at anything it was an instant way to sour his mood.

It felt like Kaminari and the rest of the bunch were more annoying than usual. They kept on bugging him about meeting this general studies student. He doesn’t know who they were and he doesn’t really care. But if he didn’t show up Racoon eyes would never let him hear the end of it.

So here he is walking to the general studies classroom with a pounding headache to meet up with everyone. He’s just going to drop in, cram his lunch down, and leave.

He slowly slid the door open but you guys were so rowdy and loud that you didn’t even notice him step in. He absentmindedly started looking for this mystery person and he almost immediately found them.

It’s cringey for him to even say this but the world almost seemed too slow. He felt his fists unclench and he couldn’t even hear the hammering in his head. He just stood there like a dope staring at you. You were laughing and messing around with the rest of the group.

There were a few rays of sunlight that seemed to leak past the barely open curtains and reflect off of your skin. Making it seem like you were glowing.

‘what was he mad about earlier?’ He can’t seem to remember.

I’m that moment to Bakugo he found something that seemed untouchable, you seemed untouchable. He wouldn’t know he was experiencing love for the first time. at least not yet.

He starts to walk towards you the group.

“Kachan!” Denki slaps him on the back as he walks past. Bakugo didn't even yell at him like he usually did when Denki used that stupid nickname on him he just sat down.

He didn’t listen when Mina was asking everyone if they wanted to go to the mall this weekend or when Denki was talking about new video game releases. He was just zoned in on you.

He’ll figure out why his hands suddenly get so sweaty when you’re around and why he has the sudden urge to impress you eventually.

And when he does it’s like a “Well Shi-“ kinda moment. He’ll love you in his own way. Insults and spicy food:)

——————————————————————————

“Man, what happened to the weather?” Sero stuck his hand out from under the bridge he was taking shelter under and into the pouring rain. “And it was such a beautiful day too..”

He decided that he had a long enough break. So he pushed some wet strands of hair back and put his helmet back on. It was his third month of becoming an official sidekick. He had graduated from Yuuei a few months prior and was finally out on the field known as the Taping hero ‘Cellophane’

Slinging around he was surveying the area but it seemed like he was on autopilot. He was just waiting for the time he could go back to the agency and dry off. His patrol ended in an hour or so.

he was pulled out of his trance when he heard giggling.

‘That's weird’ he thought and began to move in the direction where it came from

It wasn't a creepy laugh but he usually heard the silent curses of people trying to get out of the rain. So obviously when he heard this he had to investigate. That's when he came across you.

You were one of a kind for sure. While others seemed to curse at the sky or let the gloomy weather ruin their entire day you seemed to bring joy out of it. Wearing a big smile and absolutely soaked to the bone, you tilted your head back and stuck your tongue out trying to catch a raindrop in your mouth.

Sero’s eyes widened in amusement watching this adult do something so childlike. He started to take in your appearance. The wet strands of hair sticking to your face and the drenched clothes clinging to your body. He felt the chill of the rain leave his body. It was replaced with a sense of ease

He could have sat there all day if he hadn't noticed your now paranoid behavior you were looking around franticly like you were looking for something.

Little did he know you were actually looking for him. Not specifically but you had felt a pair of eyes on you and the feeling of being watched was not a comfortable one. You went to pick up your bag and head home.

Sero noticed you were about to leave, he didn't want you to leave

This was his sign to make a move and stop gawking, he at least needed to know your name. Just about the moment that he was about to swoop in and introduce himself, there was a distant ‘boom’

His head flung around and saw a large cloud of dust not too far from here. Police sirens could already be heard. He looked from you to the obvious sign of a villain attack.

He debated whether or not to head into the fight a little bit later. Surely there was plenty of other hero's to help. All he needed was a couple minutes to say “H-

He had a job to do he would worry about finding you later. Before he could talk himself out of it, he forced himself to drag himself towards the danger and away from you.

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

Hours had passed and everything had finally settled down the villain was in custody and he had finished his report and could clock out. The villain had a water quirk and was using the stormy weather to his advantage.

But that wasn't important even though he was exhausted from a long day he had to go back to that park. A hope within told him that you had stayed there, that he still had a chance to introduce himself.

But by the time he had arrived at the park.

You were already long gone.

——————————————————————————

Denki finally turned off his consul and crawled into bed. He plugged his phone in and looked at the clock

2:34AM

Wow...he’s in bed earlier than last night!

He can’t help it though he met an online friend a couple months ago and ever since his sleep schedule hasn’t been the same. He’ll get on at 8 and say he’s going to go to bed before 11 but when he sees you join the party...A couple more minutes won’t hurt? But who is he trying to kid? The minutes turn into hours but it doesn’t feel like it. Not with you at least

He doesn’t even need to look at you to know that you’re someone special. You guys are best friends. He thinks about you in class, at lunch. Bakugos threatened to rip his lips off because he talks about you so much.

So he can’t help but smile and feel giddy when he recalls his earlier conversation with you.

“There’s a new Arcade opening up near my house and I wanted to go with some friends but they don’t exactly enjoy those kinda things” you spoke into your headset half asleep.

“Oh really? Funny cause there’s also a new Arcade opening up a couple blocks down from my school.” He’s half brain dead as well not putting much thought into it.

“Yeah, It’s a cheesy name like Austin’s Arcade. It apparently has like Go-Karts and Roller skating-“

“Oh the place that’s opening up near me is also called Austin’s....”

“.....”

“....”

If you guys weren’t awake before you sure are now.

“Holy crap! Wait you live near me! We should totally go together!”

“Yeah!”

Denki was smiling like an idiot after months of endless late-night talks and getting to know each other. He’s finally going to be able to see you.

——————————————————————————

He was walking down the street glancing up from his phone every now and then to make sure he didn’t run into anything. Many times he debated whether or not to turn back he was so nervous but he didn’t know why.

You were so easy to talk to and he was so comfortable around you so he didn’t get why the closer he got to the Arcade the faster his heart seemed to speed up. And why was he constantly checking his reflection in shop windows to make sure he looked alright. He’s never cared about these types of things before.

This was his last turn and then he would be able to see you. It's not like he hasn’t seen pictures of you but something about the real thing is different.

He quickly typed “here🕺” and sent it to and then put it into his pocket. He looked around for you and there he saw you, you were standing just outside the entrance cluelessly looking around for him in the busy crowd.

He tried to step forward to go talk to you but he just took a moment to take you in and admire the view. The light breeze was blowing and just barely moving your hair. It was the perfect day for this clear sky and warm weather that seemed to envelop him in a hug and it smelled like the many food carts and stands on the street. It was busy since it was opening day. But even with all these people, you seemed to stick out from the crowd to him.

But then you spotted him. Making eye contact, your (E/C) eyes seemed to take his breath away. The small smile that overtook your mouth when you saw him make Denki’s heart do flips. He was definitely blushing just barely though Denki knew how to keep it cool.

You picked up your bag and waved him over. He caught his breath and began to walk towards you. He had a smile on that could put All Might's signature smile to shame. He stepped in front of you

“Hi I’m Denki”

You giggled “it’s so weird not hearing your gamer tag”

And the day begins...

#bnha sero #mha imagines #mha #mha bakugo katsuki #bakugou x you #mha denki #denki x reader #sero x reader #denki kaminari #bakugo katuski x reader #fluff #bhna x you #sero x you #bakugo x reader

87 notes · View notes

savagenutella46 · 3 years

Text

boy was my face red (2/2)

Part 1! DICKINETTE

Marinette sighed and ran a hand through her hair.

Dick had sent a text message, and while the gesture wasn't uncommon, it was the context inside. The vague, two-worded message that settled unprecedented worry deep in her bones.

Dickie: It's Barbara.

She hadn't responded. Of course she hadn't, because, why would she? How would she respond to something like that other than dropping everything at her part time job as a barista and come barreling home?

Especially when it's about Barbara Gordon.

Barbara Gordon was everything she wasn't and more. Barbara was tall, red-headed, and beautiful, while Marinette continuously fell on the literal short end of the scale compared to her.

Barbara Gordon was exactly Dick's type. Smart, cunning, and played an important role in society.

And Marinette liked to make dresses.

—But, they had been having relationship problems, hadn't they? She'd witnessed the dismayed look on Dick's face he'd often had after hanging out with the red-haired woman. The slam of the door that so often abruptly broke the comfortable silence of their dorm when he'd come home after a fight.

"Don't think like that." She whispered to herself. Marinette was standing idly outside the heavy door that led to their dorm, stalling.

Do it. Go inside. He's waiting.

Marinette placed a shaky hand on the brass doorknob and waited for a sign. A text, or a tell-tale noise from inside the dorm.

Nothing.

She swung the door open and immediately, muffled sniffles from Dick's room filtered through her haze of disappointment, shaking the undertone of guilt-ridden excitement as she stalks down the hallway to his bedroom.

"Dickie?" No answer, just sniffles that continued to float through the air and thoroughly continue to crush her heart into tiny pieces. Her throat squeezed in anticipation, and her face crunched up.

Marinette knocked on his bedroom door hesitantly. "Can I come in?"

"Yeah." Dick's voice cracked pitifully in the middle of the word, and Marinette tightened her grip on his doorknob and swung the door open, quickly rushing to his side.

Dick looked like a mess. His long hair that was usually swept in place stuck out all over the place, some of it looked a little wet, as well. Dick was laying in his bed under rumpled sheets, clutching a blue striped pillow to his chest tightly, his face buried into the top of the tear-stained covering.

Marinette sighed, running a hand through his unkempt hair as his body shook with muffled sobs. "Dick, I'm so sorry." Dick let out a slightly more audible sob when she started to rub his back.

He looked up, and, shit. Marinette's heart lodged itself in her already constricting throat.

There were dark circles the size of California resting under Dick's eyes. He peered up at her through red-rimmed eyes, and tears that quickly spilled over his eyelids when he blinked fast enough to rid them.

Worst of all, there was no spark of joy she always saw on his face, nor his eyes, nor his body language. There was not a single trace of warmth or recognition in his eyes, and it chilled her to the bone to see her best friend so affected by Barbara Gordon.

She wanted to strangle the red-haired woman in that very moment. Her throat squeezed with both hatred and guilt for letting such a woman break her best friend's heart.

"She—she broke up with me, Marinette-" Ouch, what did she do to deserve her full name? "—she left me." Dick squeezed his eyes shut again, and crumpled into himself, his body rattling and shaking like a leaf from unrestrained sobs.

Marinette bit her lip and wrapped herself around Dick, squeezing her arms hard around his middle and burying her head into the crook of his neck. "She's a fool. You're amazing, Dick." Marinette whispered, almost inaudible.

—but he heard, she was sure, because he froze, and for a moment, she felt almost felt it was the wrong thing to say. Marinette had nothing else to say, so she tightened her arms around him, but, he turned around in her grip, loosening it slightly.

Dick stared at her, almost too intensely, and Marinette felt a flush rise to her neck, his sobs minutely subsiding, but not completely, tears starting to absently roll down his face, and hiccups fighting their way up Dick's throat.

"You—" Dick swallowed a hiccup, "You really mean that?" He stared at Marinette, with such a newfound intensity that almost made her choke, and it would have if it wasn't for the hurt lingering in his expression and the fat tears still racing down his pale cheeks.

Marinette floundered for a response, cornered by his hopeful, yet hurt expression. "Of course, Dickie. You—someone like that isn't worth your tears. You—" She smiled awkwardly, and reached for his limp hands, and squeezing. "Dick, someone like you...you deserve someone who knows your worth."

Because Dick was worth everything. Barbara was truly a fool to break up with him.

Dick audibly swallowed. He looked down at their hands, conjoined tightly, soft against one another, sans the permanent calluses on Dick's palm from acrobatics as a child.

Marinette rubbed his palm absently, humming to awkwardly break the stretching silence that seemed to envelope them at her words. Her stupid, stupid words; a sentence that surely made him internally scoff at her obvious pining.

But, suddenly, Dick was hugging her again. Her best friend's arms were wrapping tightly around her middle and squeezing just about the life out of her, murmuring to himself incoherently.

"—ank you, thank you, thank you, you don't know how much that means to me." He was muttering to her.

Marinette's eyes widened at the warmth soaking into her shirt and realized he was crying again. "Oh, you're welcome, Dick."

"I love you."

Words so silent she'd forgotten to actually understand them instead of just hearing them, continuing to stroke his back softly.

The worst part about when your best friend gets their heartbroken, is the sudden extra person constantly clinging onto your arm and using all your hair appliances; and with the passing months, Dick had become her other half, quite literally.

"You're going to fry your hair at this rate." Dick grinned and shook his head, his alarmingly stubborn soft hair swinging around with the sudden motion and settling behind his neck, a tad overgrown so that it sat under the nape of his neck, but it was nice to run her hands through.

They were sitting on the couch, almost like conjoined twins with how their legs and shoulders seemed to plaster themselves together. Empty ice cream pints and various fast food takeout littered the coffee table and couch around them as the television blared Hell's Kitchen in the background.

"If that means my hair looks good, then so be it." It really did, but she's hate to see the notion of his luscious locks last less than a millennia. Especially with how the moonlight currently reflected off of it, making him look almost angelic.

Yes, her bestfriend was beautiful, and, yes, she was jealous. And what about it?

Marinette chose to remain silent instead of quipping back; the bastard was not going to laugh at her again.

No, because when Dick laughed, angels sang, and when he laughed, she was reminded of her big fat crush on Dick Grayson.

She reached for his hand, and squeezed it tightly, stubbornly training her eyes on Gordon Ramsay yelling at a blue team chef for undercooking scallops instead of looking for a reaction in Dick. Marinette felt as if she would actually combust if she even looked in his general direction, her face flushing a deep red from the sheer silence to her left.

A few minutes passed, each one with a growing intensity in silence that lodged a heavy lump in her throat and squeezed the air out of her. Hell's Kitchen continued to drone on in the background, each scene providing a different tinted glow to their faces in the dark of the night.

Marinette was sure Dick could feel the damp sweat soaking her palms, the heat soaking through her hand to his. She was so sure he would pull away out of disgust—then his hands went slack in her hold.

Marinette stopped breathing. She turned her head to the side, slowly. It was hard to make out the details of his face underneath the absence of light, but his expression was calm, naturally relaxed.

Dick was sleeping.

She swallowed harshly, the heavy ball of saliva easing its way down her throat and a symphony of relief flooding her nerves, flushing the red-hot embarrassment out of her system.

It would be so easy to tell him right now. To lift the heavy weight off her chest so she could breathe properly for the first time in two years. Marinette could tell him anything she wanted to and he wouldn't know. She ran her free hand through his hair slowly, relishing in the silky smooth glide of her hand in Dick's locks.

"Love you." She opted for, instead. It could be seen as painfully platonic, though her tone was thick and wavered at the end, the meaning of her words breaking through the seems of her poorly placed disguise.

She's in class, picking out a few fabrics on the rack for a shirt she so meticulously designed when he called.

Or, called out to her. In the middle of class.

Dick sprinted into the room, narrowly missing a full on concussion to a heavy clothing rack on his way in, bracing his hands on red knees to catch his breath once he had caught up to her.

Marinette cleared her throat, taking a sweep of the room with her eyes, and, yep, they were all looking at her and Dick; some with a knowing look on their face—damn you, Steph—and ones with utter curiosity.

"Uh," Marinette turned her attention back to the man crouching before her with wide eyes. "Dickie? You okay?" Dick wheezed in response, clutching his knees even harder.

"I," Dick gasped. "I ran...three miles—" Another wheeze. "To get to your class." He rushed out, straightening up with one last deep grasp for breath before fully opening his eyes at her, and, woah.

An unreadable expression on his face, but his eyes told a whole different story. Staring intensely, deeply into her own, they conveyed a message so strong it almost had her gasping for air.

(Not that she'd ever do that. What an overplayed cliché.)

An undertone of apology, although underwhelmed by the sheer amount of excitement and happiness that stretched his mouth from ear to ear in the perfect grin, she hadn’t seen this since—

(“Nettie!” The dorm door slammed with Dick’s arrival, the noticeable octave change in his voice giving away his rattling happiness.

Marinette smiled from her lazy perch on their brown, holed up couch, spurred on by her best friend’s good mood to wash over her, too. “What happened, Dickie?” Dick bounded over to her, bright blue eyes shining even more with an unprecedented gleam, his shiny hair bouncing as he plopped down in front of her, bracing his hands on her shoulders.

“You’ll never believe it!” Dick grinned toothily, squeezing her shoulders periodically as he stopped to laugh boisterously with his head hung low, hiding his expression.

Marinette could feel his excitement seep into her, and grinned. “Tell me, Dickie.”

“I asked Barbara out, and she said yes!”

A static noise filled her ears. Marinette stopped breathing as Dick’s words hit her full on, momentarily stopping on their way past to slap and laugh at her face before continuing on their journey. She could feel the aggression climbing up her shoulders where Dick’s hands rested, beckoning to rip them off and tear him a new one.

She couldn’t. He was so—)

Happy. Dick looked so happy, and for a moment, Marinette had almost forgotten how to speak.

“...Dick?” Had he found someone new, again? Did he come over all the way to design class Three miles away from their dorm to come and break her heart for the second time in the past two years? She’d waited to tell him, damnit, and it was slipping away again.

Just like last time. A shadow started to creep up on Marinette again, looming over her with words of doubt and uncertainty, clawing at her carefully sewn seams, tearing holes in her polyester resolve.

“Marinette, I—“ This was it. He’d tell her he was moving on again, and again would begin the vicious cycle of her forlorn feelings never being able to see the light of day.

“I love you.”

She’d never—

“What?” Marinette gaped dumbly.

Dick straightened up even more, if that was possible, and gripped both of her hands in his own, staring at her intensely, and repeated himself.

“I’m so in love with you.” And just like that, a cacophony of emotions flooding through the gate, beckoning the dark shadow that looked over her, and, instead, a glimmer of hope, happiness.

She was aware her face must look somewhat similar to that of a fish, because Dick carried on, somehow gripping her hands even harder.

“I can’t believe I never realized, I—I’m so dumb!” Dick laughed, and it was the drop of a hat to unload an avalanche.

“You...love me?” Somewhat of an avalanche. Marinette couldn’t convey emotions as well as Dick could.

“After last night, I felt this—this type of way. I was thinking so hard this morning about you and, and—“

“I love you, too.” Marinette let herself grin with him, picking up onto his sheer stellar grip on her hands and squeezing back equally as hard.

And, yes, it felt amazing to openly admire his hair while Dick stared at her with the force of a million suns. She’d earned this, damnit. Isn’t it nice to bury your hands in your new boyfriend’s hair while he kisses you with the force of a thousand suns?

permanent taglist (open): @tbehartoo @nathleigh @officiallydarkgeek @stainedglassm

#dickinette #dick grayson #maribat #mlb x dc #marinette dupain cheng #i had to edit this thrice because it kept deleting hah

97 notes · View notes

thebigqueer · 3 years

Text

Solangelo - "Drowning in Sorrow" - One-Shot

Summary: Apollo confirms Nico of Jason's death, and Nico has to deal with the grief.

Word Count: 2406

SPOILERS: The Burning Maze Spoilers, Tower of Nero Spoilers

Read on AO3

Only one thought races in Nico’s mind, over and over: He’s dead.

Nico feels the grass under his feet, feels the wind brush against his face, feels the warmth of the air around him. But he never acknowledges any of that. He flies over the ground, only wishing to get away from the truth that lies behind him.

Demigods wave a hand to him in greeting, but he just pushes past all of them. He can’t do this right now. He can’t deal with anyone, not when another person he loves is gone. Nothing matters anymore.

His feet rise and fall with the shift in terrain, and soon the grass gives way to smooth marble floors as he steps up into his cabin. He longs for the darkness, for the solitude, for the emptiness.

Nico rushes in, his chest already heaving with heartache, and he slams the door shut. A large bang resonates in the room, drills into his bones and mind and skin, and finally he is alone. The curtains and blinds are all drawn shut, shrouding him in darkness, and he is safe from all eyes.

Nico slams his back against the door, unable to move any further from the entrance. He can’t find the motivation or the strength to go to his bed. His nails cling onto the wooden door and he slides down, the ache of tears pressing against his throat and demanding to break loose.

Nico sits there for hours, his head in his hands, his breathing heavy. He allows himself to drown in sorrow.

He’s dead.

Will stands outside the door of the Hades cabin, his fist balanced readily just above the wood. It’s been a few hours since Apollo broke the news to Nico, and a few hours since Apollo passed out.

Will feels like everything is happening too fast, too much, too… everything. The day has only been one thing after another. First his father returned to him, looking exhausted as hell but overall alive, and Will’s heart overflowed with joy. He spent months worrying about him - the amount of dreams he’d had of his father dying kept him awake at night. In fact, in the past few days, even he hadn’t been sleeping well - his dark circles are ready to rival Nico’s.

As excited as Will was to find out about Lester’s return, dread injected itself into his bloodstream at the sight of him. Apollo’s return could only mean that the real fight was about to come, and Will wasn’t ready. If Nico’s dreams were any indication, then things were about to get much, much worse.

Then Will’s own worries dissipated as soon as Apollo confirmed Nico’s fears of Jason: he was dead, period. Nico’s death alarm wasn’t false; he had died months ago, giving his last breath to Caligula.

Will can’t stop thinking about the way Nico’s face fell, the way he swayed on his feet as if the weight of Jason’s death was about to push him over. He thought about rushing after his boyfriend, but between Apollo’s own passing-out, Nico’s well-known desire to be alone when things like this happen, and Will’s own confusion and chaos, he decided it was better not to crowd him. Too much had happened all at once and they both needed the space to process everything.

After Will helped Lester to bed, Kayla turned to him and asked if he wanted to take a break, too. “You literally look like you’re about to pass out,” she muttered.

Will passed her up and told her he’d go check on Nico. She looked skeptical about it, as if she didn’t agree with his decision. “I don’t know, Will,” she said. “If Nico’s upset and you’re still dealing with all this all at once, maybe it’s better to wait a bit. Maybe it’s better that both of you let things settle before doing anything. You need to take care of yourself, too.”

Will wanted to protest, but he knew she was right. His stomach was knotted up with anxiety and his exhaustion was continuously pressing on him, drilling pain into his bones. So he waited a few hours until going to Nico.

Now, a little more rested, Will stares at the door. He presses his ear to it to check for any concerning noises. For the most part, all seems silent - except for the faint sniffles that hum through. Will’s heart twists over itself at the sound.

“Nico?” he calls softly. No answer, but the door creaks a bit as if someone is pressing against it. He takes this as a sign that Nico’s listening.

“Hey,” he murmurs. “Are you okay?”

There’s still no answer.

Will sighs. He doubts Nico will let him in just yet. Instead, he opts to sit on the ground and lean against the door, his body aching with the excitement of the afternoon.

He lets silence linger in the air for a moment, considering how to start talking. Tapping his finger against the ground, he begins, “I guess this was a pretty intense day, huh?”

A soft thud echoes against the door in response.

“You know, my dad actually passed out after you left. Completely zonked out. The lemonade spilled all over him. Kayla had to hose him off.” A small smile quirks at Will’s lips at the memory. “Meg and I had to hold him up. It was kind of funny.”

No response again.

Will sighs. “I’m sorry about Jason, Nico. I thought… For your sake, I thought maybe it was just a false alarm. He didn’t deserve what happened to him. He was a really good hero.” As he says the words, though, a pang resonates in his chest. Were you ever a good hero? he wonders to himself. Jealousy and grief both pull at his heart - he shouldn’t be thinking like that, not when Nico’s hurting.

You never were as good as he ever was, his brain insists.

Will grips the sides of his jeans. He won’t fall into this rabbit hole of insecurities right now. Nico needs him.

Does he, though?

Tears prick at Will’s eyes, but he doesn’t let them fall. He can’t break right now.

Nico still doesn’t respond, but another sniffle floats through the door. Then a choking sound echoes through, and the crack in Will’s heart expands.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Will whispers.

The son of Apollo doesn’t expect any response. For a moment, time is frozen; nothing happens. Then Nico’s fingers peep through the space between the door and the ground, and with a jolt Will realizes he’s asking for his hand. Will touches the olive skin gently, then Nico reigns his fingers in, stealing them back into the darkness of his room. After a moment, something clicks and the door swings wide open, a soft breeze swishing through. Will almost falls over if it weren’t for his hands behind him.

Nico’s on his knees, his arm raised to the doorknob as he holds the door open. Tear tracks create cracks against his face, glimmering in the setting sun. His red nose stands out against his olive skin.

He looks broken, deflated. Void of all hope.

“Nico,” whispers Will. The sight of him looking so lost, so shattered makes Will’s own breath hitch with emotion. The ache of tears presses against his own throat, and all of a sudden he wants nothing more than to hold Nico in his arms. He’s exhausted and emotionally drained; he just wants to be in the comforting embrace of his lover.

Nico holds his hands out, lips trembling, tears rolling down his face, and Will falls into them. He pulls Nico’s waist against his body and Nico wraps his arms around Will’s neck and they spill over each other, holding one another in their sorrow, in their devastation, in their misery.

They sit like that for some time, breathing each other in, absorbing each other’s pain, holding one another through the sobs that rack both their bodies. They are one being in this moment, finding a connection through their grief.

Then Will lifts his head and brushes some tears from his own face. He stares at Nico, at his puffy eyes and his red nose and thick tears, and holds his face in his hands. Nico leans into the touch, melting into Will’s skin.

“I didn’t want him to die,” Nico whispers, leaning his head to Will’s. His voice is choked with pain, strangled with agony. Nico’s body vibrates against Will’s arms. “I thought… I thought the worst was over. I thought after the Argo II, we’d all be safe. But he wasn’t… He wasn’t.”

Will brushes a lock of dark hair away from his cheek, and his fingertips whisper against Nico’s soft skin. It’s feverishly hot, saturated with salty tears. “He died a hero,” Will promises.

Nico nods against his shoulder. “But it’s not fair,” he says. “Jason… He deserved more. He was one of the first people I trusted. I thought… It’s like… Everyone I care about somehow always leaves.” Nico looks up at Will, and behind his eyes, the blond sees it: the hesitance, the fear, the perception of his truth. He thinks Will’s going to leave, too.

Will shakes his head. “His death wasn’t your fault, though.”

Nico nods slowly. “I know. He… He took the fall for Apollo.” Will doesn’t miss the kick in his voice as he speaks of his father, the simmer of resentment. The blond caves into himself a little as second-hand guilt slips into his skin. “He went down doing something noble.”

Will nods and offers an encouraging smile, but his mind groans with anxieties and worries. If Jason was someone Nico trusted, what does that say about Nico’s next actions? Will he start going after Jason’s life the way he did for Bianca?

Would Will have to help him?

As if reading his thoughts, Nico wipes his eyes and says, “But he made his choice. He doesn’t deserve death so early, but that is not up to me. It’s up to the Fates.” A small, knowing smile wavers over his mouth. “I won’t be going after him, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

And Will can’t help it - he sighs externally, a tsunami of relief washing over him. If Nico decided to go feral again with Jason’s death, then he would have no idea how to stop him. He’s seen how powerful Nico can be, how easily his emotions motivate his actions. A shiver slithers down Will’s spine as he thinks of that night a few months ago, when Nico first found out about Jason’s death. He’d gotten so angry and upset he almost sent skeletons after Will.

And even as Nico holds Will in his arms, the blond can’t help the knife of anxiety that scrapes against his skin. If Nico is so unstable right now, there’s no telling what he could do. Will just hopes he doesn’t make his boyfriend so upset that he sets more skeletons after him.

The son of Hades takes a deep breath and wipes his tears with the back of his hand. He removes his arms from Will’s neck and suddenly Will is left in the cold, freezing in the lack of his touch. He wants to tell Nico to hold him again, to keep him in his warmth, but he refrains. Nico scrubs his face then takes Will’s hand in his own.

A small smile flashes against his lips. “Thank you, Will, for being here. I appreciate it.”

Will offers a wavering smile back, though he doesn’t quite fill it with genuinity. “I’m always here for you.” Unlike Jason, he thinks, green envy flowing into his muscles. He hates himself for thinking that in the first place.

Nico brushes his fingers against Will’s face, over the splash of freckles and down his jaw. Warmth blooms in Will’s chest at the touch and he tilts his head closer, but cold, hard guilt settles in his stomach. How can he be thinking so jealously of Jason while his boyfriend is grieving so much?

“I’m sorry,” Nico murmurs. “I know this has probably been a long day for you, too, considering that Apollo is back. How are you, my love? I can’t imagine it’s been easy for you either.”

A new volcano of emotion erupts in Will’s chest and hot tears press against his eyes. He folds his arms over Nico again, crashing into him. His tears soak into Nico’s shirt. “I’m just happy he’s alive,” Will admits. “I was scared.”

“I know,” Nico agrees. “You said he passed out. Is he alright?”

“I think so. He doesn’t seem to be in any imminent danger; I think he just worked himself up too much getting here.” Will offers a shaky, relieved sigh. “At least he’s not dead.”

Nico nods against him, his dark hair gently brushing against Will’s cheek. “Did he say anything about important prophecies or any business to do with the camp?”

Will jerks up and stares at Nico’s face intently. His dark, tear-filled eyes gleam under the sunset, flashing with sorrow and exhaustion. Nico looks so weary, so done with the world. Will understands that feeling - he’s tired, so tired. He just wants to sit here with Nico, to bask in the calmness just for a few more minutes before everything turns to shit.

Without meaning to, Will lets loose a small sob. New tears roll down his face and he bends his face to Nico’s neck. Nico glides his hand over Will’s back, through his curls, but Will barely acknowledges his touch.

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” Will whispers. “Not now. Later, but not right now.”

Nico flinches with surprise, but he nods against Will’s cheek and slips his hand into the blond’s. “We can talk about it later, at dinner.”

“Dinner is in ten minutes.”

“Then at the campfire.”

Will sighs. “Let’s skip out on dinner.”

“And do what?”

“I just want to sit here with you. I want to be sad. Let’s be sad. We’ve been forcing happiness too long.”

Nico’s fingers jerk against Will’s neck, a twitch of surprise tugging at his body. Then, with a shaky sigh, he nods his head in agreement. His body goes limp against Will’s, melts into a puddle of sorrow, and Will pulls himself into Nico.

They sit there for a long while, drowning in their sorrow together.

35 notes · View notes

sebbytrash · 4 years

Text

Through His Eyes - Part Twenty (The End)

Summary - Bucky arrives at the compound to start afresh but you and him have a somewhat colorful past, colorful being that you met him once before as The Winter Soldier and it did not go well. New beginnings, yeah? If you can learn to forgive.

Pairing - Bucky x Reader

Warnings - The end.

A/N - Gah. I’m literally at a loss for words. This is almost 3 years in the making. My life has changed drastically since I started this. (I’m a mom, yikes.) I can’t thank you enough for all the wonderful support on this one. It was truly a piece of my heart in words. So yes, the end is here and it’s a little bitter sweet but I might visit these two again one day. I hope this is everything you have been waiting for. <3

HUGE thank you to my other half @manawhaat for her exceptional Betaing as always

Through His Eyes Masterlist

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” Bucky asks, not for the first time, glancing worriedly down at your forearm.

“The surest.” You reassure him, fix him with your best full wattage smile and roll your sleeve up the rest of the way. The skin tingles in anticipation, or dread, and your heart thumps readily in your chest. It’s time, it says with each beat.

At your nod, the needle descends and the first painful line of change begins. Bucky shudders at the noise and keeps his eyes on yours, or more accurately, keeps them anywhere but on that needle.

“You know, for an Avenger, you sure are squeamish,” you joke, grab his hand and give it a squeeze when he doesn’t smile back. “It’s just a tattoo, Bucky. Barely even registers.” The tattoo artist catches your eye with a soft smile and you roll your eyes in a playful isn’t-my-boyfriend-cute kinda way. Boyfriend, yeah, it still feels weird to think it, let alone say it. Truthfully, the word doesn’t even come close to what he is to you. The word simply doesn’t exist.

“I know, I know,” the boyfriend in question says, “I just hate the look of it, s’all.” His mouth twists in that way that tells you he's still concerned and is probably going to be the entire time so you should just let him.

This moment was a long time coming. You had thought and thought about getting your scars covered, these ones in particular that made wearing short sleeves a nightmare unless you wanted to flash an unintentional Nazi neon to anyone in a 2 metre radius. At first, you held on to them as a reminder, something to keep your heart cold and cruel, and then you held onto them as a shield, something to keep you from growing and forgetting, to keep you from leaving that part of you behind and finding out what was left without it. Now, you ache to transform, to strip away the last of the darkness and move forward with the growing light. That light that Bucky has shined into your life with that stubborn heart and those same unrelenting eyes that warily watch you close this chapter of your life. It will always be with you, be a part of you, but you no longer want it to be you.

The tattoo itself, flowers chosen for their meaning, would now flow up your forearm with a soft wind replacing the haphazardly cruel branding you endured. Daffodils, meaning rebirth or new beginnings, and Irises for hope. Steve and Wanda had helped you with the design, the former brushing off his old drawing skills to do so and Tony had acquired the artist. Lee, a tall, severe looking man with the softest smile you’d ever seen on someone with a shaved head and ear gauges. He was kind and funny, and everything you needed to put yourself entirely in his hands with this precious piece of your history.

It takes roughly four hours and Bucky is tense for every single minute of them. Lee spends half his time smirking at you when Bucky starts pacing again or sighs a little too deeply, his intense discomfort is nothing short of hilarious in the end. The finished piece is breathtaking, Lee has taken Steve’s sketch and created something so incredible, you feel the breath forcibly taken from your lungs and words from your mouth.

“Wow. It’s perfect, Lee.” You stare at it unblinking before glancing at him. “Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome, ma’am.” He nods with quiet understanding and busies himself tidying his workstation. You turn to Bucky, tears gathering in the corners of your eyes and you try haplessly to blink them away, a few escape and Bucky steps up close to catch them with his thumb. His eyes reflect yours, and you wonder if it feels as significant to him as it does to you, looking at your arm and seeing that journey etched in colour, bright and beautiful and on display.

Bucky lets out a breath so large, it’s like he's held it the entire day. "It's beautiful," he says, after a long minute, "It's you."

It's still dark when you are catapulted from sleep, your sweet dreams stolen from underneath you in a swift movement just like the blanket so often is by your bedmate. It takes a second for the sound to match what you see, for you put the pieces of your reality together like a puzzle. He's dreaming again, Bucky, a bad one from the sounds being torn from his throat.

He's rigid beside you, muscles and ligaments all turned to stone despite his obvious turmoil. You suspect that it's a part of him that holds on to a sliver of reality, that fights to ensure he doesn't harm you, even now, when he's asleep. It doesn't shock you to discover that even unconscious, he's the best man you know.

"No. Stop. I can't." He says and the words curdle in the air. You wondered if this would happen, after today and his reaction to the tattoo. His need to protect you runs bone deep and so it’s impossible to run from the dreams on the days he considers you hurt, or hurting.

You smooth a hand over his face, gently and coaxing, "Shhh, Bucky. I'm right here. I'm with you, I'm safe." The magic words, you'd discovered, were less about his own safety and more about yours. Buttery promises that melt right through the brickhouse dream and pull him back to you.

He wakes slowly, blinks up at you with those sea storm eyes, rides the crest of a wave in between realities and then blinks again and lets the waters crease and slow, settle into a soft hum. You place a kiss to his brow and leave to grab him a glass of water, giving him a minute to settle so that he isn’t forced to look at you before he’s ready. When you return he's sitting up against the headboard with his body tilted like he's waiting for you to slot right in. He downs the whole glass quickly and then grants you a smile, the smile, the one that makes electricity wake up in the morning.

"Do you need anything?" You ask, like you always do, letting your fingers lace with his.

"Just you," he answers, pulls you gently to him so he can tuck your head under his chin and his fingers slot against your ribs, let's his breathing slow to match yours and his heartbeat to follow suit.

It's what you do for each other, when the need arises. Just quiet understanding and quiet support. It doesn't happen often, but when it does, you no longer feel like it's going to strip the skin from your bones or send you plunging into the dark. Now it feels like stitching a wound shut, or rubbing an aching muscle, leaning on each other in a truly honest way despite everything, or maybe because of everything, and it's...nice. There’s not a single part of you that you have to hide from him, or him from you, and that feeling is measureless. There were stars living inside your chest, burning furious and bright, a sunshine heart and a moonlit soul.

You stay that way long after sleep steals you both back, tangled limbs and tangled scars, and tangled hearts.

In the morning, his tired eyes are not weary, as they once might have been after such a night. Instead, they hold a promise of a smile inside, the saltwater seas are waveless. His smile comes easily, harbouring a quiet joy he has not yet shared and so you're helpless, swept away in it as his lips take your reason captive. He stops to look at you and you look back at this resilient, gentle man who didn’t try to hide or reconcile all the complex truths inside himself, just simply existed exactly as he was.

“What’s got your face looking like that?” You ask, letting your fingers slide along his jaw in a lazy, familiar way.

“Just realised somethin’” He smiles like he has the answer to a question you forgot to ask, continues when you raise your brows at him, “Bob isn’t sharing the bed anymore.”

Oh.

It’s true, you’d finally found yourself ready to put your gun into an actual gun safe and not within 2 metres of you at all times. Since the great revelation, as you so often thought of it as, you’d taken Sam up on his offer to join him down at the VA for the group sessions, finally unburdening yourself in a more controlled and productive way, taking your own small steps to recovery. It’s not a journey, the voice of Sam scolds, it’s a state of being. One you need to work on every day.

You make a noise of agreement. “Yeah. Didn’t really need him there anymore.” You admit, press a quick kiss to his lips and say, “Besides, they would need to get through you first. That’s why you sleep closest to the door.”

He laughs and smiles sheepishly, the admission dies on his tongue when you hush it with yours, the curve of his mouth when it smiles simply too tempting not to taste.

“There you go,” Wanda says as she zips your dress. “You’re ready.”

And you were ready. It was a date, a real date in a real restaurant with real people around you. You and Bucky had lived inside a bubble, protected and cosy, all bed covers and armchairs, netflix and books. He decided, or was reminded, that there were other ways to spend his time with you and tonight was to be the first. The first official date. It was exciting, and nerve wracking, and you tried not to hang your fate against the success of one night.

“Yeah,” you agree, let the hum of unreleased adrenaline settle over your bones in anticipation, “I’m ready.”

You're halfway to the door when you stop, sudden, and hastily turn back to your dresser, rummaging around with abandon until you find it. You gasp in triumph, clutch the glass bottle in hand and show it to Wanda.

“I haven’t worn it yet,” you explain when she casts you a confused glance. “I guess I was saving it.”

Hope. The scent you’d purchased all those months ago when Bucky had first arrived, when you’d felt the very first flutterings of it within your chest before you even recognised what it was. It feels apt to wear it tonight when all that hope has become reality.

“Hmm, well now does seem perfect, right?” She looks at you that way she sometimes does when her face turns into a mirror for your own feelings. It still makes you blink a few times, even now, when the feelings are joyful.

When you make it to the door this time, you hesitate, hand gripping the cold handle long enough for Wanda to softly clear her throat. She doesn’t ask, but then again she probably already knows. It’s been a while since you’ve worn anything this nice, the dress is really nothing fancy, it’s flattering and comfortable, but still entirely different to your usual workout clothes and lounge wear that Bucky usually sees you in. It still makes your hands clench and your heart flutter with nerves, and you almost laugh at the absurdity of feeling self-conscious. The same man has seen your very soul, after all.

He’s waiting for you with Steve, his back to you as you approach and so you have a few sweet seconds to admire the sturdiness of his shoulders in the shirt, how the fabric stretches and clings to his broad back and thick arms. Steve smiles when he sees you coming, gives Bucky a nudge and then watches him turn to you with barely contained glee.

When Bucky finally sees you, he looks at you with such fierce want, and love, that you nearly buckle at the sight of it. He smiles the smile that carves roots in your bones and stars in your heart. It’s only when you draw closer that you see your own eyes reflected in his, see yourself looking at him the way he’s looking at you.

“You look beautiful.” He says, quietly and just for you.

“Thank you.” You finally tear your eyes from his long enough to do a leisurely sweep of him, taking in that shirt and dress pants combo that somehow looks like it was how he looked all along, made for it. “You do, too.”

He laughs, like you intended, reaches out to clasp your hand in his without thought and those two actions combined are threatening to let too much of that feeling leak out of your chest, the one that reminds you that you need him too much, love him too much. It’s still terrifying, this kind of love.

You hate it. You don’t.

The restaurant is small, a quiet but cosy kinda place that has more candles than menus and serves things called “Mom’s soup special”. Its soft lighting combines spectacularly with the coved tables, each individual one a private getaway that’s filled with fluttering lashes and toothy smiles. Bucky ushers you forward and tucks your seat behind you as you sit, the gesture all too natural for him and not all like the forced way you’ve witnessed so many people do it before.

“This place is amazing,” you say, still glancing around with wonder hanging off your eyelashes, “how did you find it?”

“Oh, uh, Sam suggested it, actually.” He admits, tucks his chin a little before adding, “Haven’t actually been out to eat since, you know, melting.”

You blink at him stupidly, eyebrows gathering up into a frown. “But, didn’t you live in Europe? And Wakanda?”

“Yeah. Romania. Well, I was on the run so it was mostly tins of beans and whatever fruit I could find,” he explains, nothing of the painful memories showing on his face, even if they show on yours, “Wakanda was different. I spent a lot of time in the lab, and when I wasn’t, I didn’t exactly socialise. I wasn’t what you would call, fit for the public eye.”

You reach across the table to take his hand in yours, try not to squeeze it as tight as your chest is squeezing your heart. “I’m glad you're here,” you say, still marvelling at the ease at which he now opens up to you, how these things don’t drag you both down into the dark. “I’m glad I get to share this with you.”

He smiles, soft and pleased, “There’s no one I’d rather share it with, sweetheart.”

The pet name, or perhaps the casualness in the way he says it, makes your heart stumble in your chest. Once, a gesture like that would have felt entirely foreign to you, probably even a little pointless, but when it rolls off his tongue with such tenderness you find yourself with sudden understanding that no amount of Hollywood movies could ever show you.

If he notices your reaction, he doesn’t say anything. The rest of the meal is spent with easy laughter and enthusiastic eating, the staff leave you mostly alone but you catch more than one with a small, knowing smile on their face when they do approach. Caught in the feeling between you, your happiness that bubbles over and spills into every passing person so that their smiles mirror your own.

You had spent so long denying yourself, and Bucky, these feelings that the now freely given love is pouring, uncontainable, from you both with such force that you can barely stand it. All that effort that went into holding back, denying, did not transfer because in truth, loving Bucky was no effort at all.

You share a dessert, Bucky coming round the table to join you in what was surely just an excuse to be close, arm draped along the back of your chair, touching from knee to hip. You lean into him, letting his body heat soak into yours and his metal fingers dance along your shoulder. It’s quietly euphoric, and you know he feels it, too.

“I didn’t know it could feel like this.” You admit, turning so you can see his eyes when the words take shape, watching as those seas rumble against your meaning.

“Me neither.” He admits right back, turning to look at you the way he so often does, captures your mouth in a kiss, a lifetime's worth of affection hidden in the curve of his mouth.

You didn’t believe in soulmates, not really, but as you lay back against his chest and feel his heartbeat on your back, feel the way the beats of his match the beats of yours so precisely, you can’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, they might.

Or perhaps, Fate saw the damage you’d both done to each other and decided to forcibly fuse those souls together. That those matching scars would fit perfectly together and prevent you both from spilling out onto any of her other plans or people.

As someone once said, “May your choices reflect your hopes, not your fears.”

He presses a kiss to the top of your head, whispers I love you in your ear and you think that you don’t care if it’s soul mates or fated or not. You know that you’d choose him every time. A fate selected by your own hand, or heart, and worth far more than dreams of paths forged for you.

TAGS: @manawhaat @theashhole @captainrogerss @higherfurtherfasterbby @peculiar-persephone @captain-rogers-beard @chrisevansnco @howlingbarnes @poealsobucky @samingtonwilson @vintagevalentinexx @abovethesmokestacks @imhereforbvcky @avengerofyourheart @stormy-thomas @danijimenezv @angelicthor @betheboo55 @palaiasaurus64 @raxacoricofallapatoriuspotter @johnmurphys-sass @katbird787 @sexyvixen7 @jobean12-blog @justreadingfics @justareader @smoothdogsgirl @theliarone @aikibriarrose @timeladylaurel @badassbakers @earinafae @tardis-is-mine @httpmcrvel @bucky2-0 @mocking-rain @sociallyimpairedme @jezzula @bless-my-demons @ign-is @indominusregina @-supernatural-coffee-llama @alwayshave-faith @shifutheshihtzu @mizzzpink @yknott81 @haven-in-writing @xtina2191 @reniescarlett @notsoprettykitty @wickedwerewolf @tatalopes23 @pineapplebooboo @mizzezm @thefridgeismybestie @memory-of-a-goldfish @supernatural-girl97 @standing-onthe-edge @ruinerofcheese @mysweetcookie99

#through his eyes #kale writes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier x reader #marvel fanfic

307 notes · View notes

chibienvychan03 · 3 years

Text

It’s Valentine’s Day?

Pairing: Victor x female MC

Warning: lots of fluff and sassy MC

Summary: Given the amount of work you’ve received, the days blur into each other and you can’t believe you’ve forgotten about Valentine’s Day. You had planned on skipping it, but something changes your mind.

Gift fic for @otome0heart. Happy holidays!

When you arrive at the office, you find the atmosphere has completely changed. Instead of being hectic and chaotic, you see your employees whispering and giggling (mainly the girls), but the mood is definitely better though you still have your assignment to work on. Even though you’re their boss, you hate having to put your foot down hard so you will be able to complete it on time and on schedule.

As you’re about to say something, Kiki rushes over to you, looking like she’s on a caffeine and sugar high which to be honest is her default mode most of the time. “Boss, boss, boss!”

“Yes, yes, yes?”

“Who are you going to give your chocolates to?” Your confusion speaks in volumes. Sighing Kiki gives you that ‘I’m disappointed in you’ look. “Have you forgotten what today is?”

“Eh?”

“Told you so! She totally forgot.” Ah yes, Willow the voice of reason and sometimes the kill joy with reality. It makes you wonder what you forgot.

One glance around the office, you start noticing small things, namely all those red, pink, and white hearts. Then there are a few pictures of what appears to be a baby wearing a diaper while holding a bow and arrow. Isn’t it bad parenting to let a child that age hold a dangerous weapon? This annoys you, being left in the dark.

“What is it I’m forgetting?” You cross your arms over your chest, giving them that stern look, but it has no effect on them. They’re probably used to it by now or don’t care.

“I can’t believe you forgot! Hey, there’s still time to buy some chocolate.” Kiki bounces around you. Why is doing it? You have no clue except you wish she would stop as you’re becoming dizzy with her antics.

“Why is it important I buy chocolate?” What was so special about buying chocolate? It’s just another day. Wait a moment, what is today? Thanks to all the overtime you’ve been putting into this assignment, the days have become blurred. You at least know which day of the week it is, thank you Mister CEO and having to give updates.

“Boss, you have no romantic bone in your body,” Willow sighs a long one as if she’s the one suffering. She swivels in her chair to face the two of you. “Maybe that’s why you don’t have a date for tonight.”

“Date? We’re swamped with work. I can’t believe I’m saying, but we need to concentrate on this assignment.” For once, you’re the one who isn’t losing concentration or having a wandering mind as a certain someone who has a penchant for reminding you appears in your thoughts. You quickly squash those as now isn’t the time.

“Don’t tell me your date is work. Boring.” Kiki makes an exaggerated yawn.

Hearts. A baby wearing a diaper and armed with a bow. Chocolate. Date. What on earth involved all of these? Think. You rack your mind trying to figure out what they’re referring to.

Minor comes to the rescue. “Boss, who are you going to give your Valentine’s Day chocolate to?”

Your train of thought comes to a screeching stop. Wait a moment. It can’t be, can it? You pull out your phone to check the day. Friday the fourteenth of February. Oh shit. You can’t believe you forgot about this day. Then again, you have a habit of forgetting your own birthday. Oops?

All three of your employees are expectantly staring at you, waiting for you to answer their question of who you’re going to give chocolate to. Considering who your boss is and your desire for your company to be successful, you have no choice other than disappointing them.

“No one. I don’t have time for romance.” The truth hurts as many say.

“Boo,” Kiki pouts, but at least, she stops circling you like… a predator? “Why not give Kiro chocolate? He loves eating snacks.”

Err…..

“No way, she’s gonna give bro chocolate,” Minor chimes in. What a major fanboy. It makes you wonder if he’s started a secret fan club.

“Officer Gavin kicks ass,” Willow adds her two cents. “It’s a no brainer there.”

A guy from editing peers over the partition. “The mind is the strongest part of the body. I’m sure boss appreciates someone with a high IQ like Professor Lucien.”

“Kiro’s the same age as Boss.”

You plant your foot on Kiki’s as you do not want your age revealed to everyone. It works as she yelps and is now hopping on one foot, her good one. While you don’t mind them knowing your birthday, you do mind them knowing how old you’ve become. Not that you’re senior citizen old, but still!

“Two years isn’t a huge difference,” Willow points out. She knows you don’t want to reveal your age, but she does have a point about the age gap between you and a certain officer. “Not like four years.”

Minor nods his head in agreement. “And you two have a history together.”

“If you take into consideration, the ages people got married historically,” the editing guy counters. “Four years is nothing. Some of them are twenty years apart!”

“Kiro’s a lot cuter.”

“Bro can protect her,” Minor argues to which Willow agrees with. “He’s awesome with a gun and can take on ten guys at the same time.”

“Professor Lucien has helped with the show many times.”

Why is everyone interested with your love life? Or rather lack of it. Not that you mind as you have your priorities in order. It’s not like Minor or that guy from editing received any chocolate. The last time you checked, neither Kiki or Willow were interested in someone. You pinch the bridge of your nose. “You can celebrate all you want. Just leave me out of it… and make sure you finish your work.”

“So if you’re not giving Bro chocolate, then that means I got some and he didn’t.” Hold the phone, someone actually gave Minor chocolate? Who’s desperate enough to give him some?

You turn your attention to Kiki and Willow. “Have you given your chocolate?”

“Of course!” Kiki chirps and then she points to someone you can’t recall his name. The guy blushes when attention is brought onto him. “We’re going on a date tonight!”

Willow just points to Minor. This does not compute. Error. Error. Did she just admit to giving Minor chocolate? Yes, she did. “We’re going on a double date. Someone has to keep the kids in line.”

“Hey!” Kiki sticks out her tongue and blows a raspberry.

Reinforcements have arrived! Anna enters the room, carrying the materials needed for your latest assignment. “Back to work.” Yes! It’s nice having someone on your side.

“Awww… it’s Valentine’s Day.” Kiki pouts, however, she reluctantly returns to her desk. “We wanna know who Boss is giving her chocolate to.”

“She should give it to Officer Gavin.”

“Yeah, Bro will be happy to receive anything from you.”

“I’m sure Professor Lucien will appreciate your effort.”

“Kiro’s the best choice.”

“You guys…”

“We can have this discussion during our lunch break.” You nod your head in agreement. Maybe they’ll forget by then. “Since we all know, she’s giving it to CEO Victor.”

“Not you too.”

Lunch happens to take out from your third favorite restaurant. You originally planned to make your meals, thanks to those cooking lessons, but work leaves you with little time and energy. When you arrive home, all you want to do is face plant onto your bed and not wake up for the next eight hours. Thank whatever deity, they have delivery. It saves you time, and you can work up until your midday break.

Back to the battlefield you go. Your employees have other things in mind as they divvy up your portion amongst themselves and start working. You blink several times, wondering what has gotten into them. Were they not complaining about the workload? Why the sudden change of heart? There’s something fishy going on there.

You turn to Anna. “What’s going on?”

“I told them you’re taking the afternoon off.” Hey, aren’t you supposed to be the boss? “Hurry before the shops run out of the good stuff.” She ushers you out the door and then shuts it.

What about your purse? As if reading your mind, the door opens. Someone shoves your purse into your hands before shutting the door again. You attempt to open the door, but it refuses to budge. It can’t be locked as you can turn the knob. No, it’s more like something heavy is preventing the door from moving.

“You don’t want to give Kiro second rate chocolate!”

“Don’t you mean Officer Gavin?”

“Agreed. Bro is the one.”

“What about Professor Lucien?”

“You already know what CEO Victor likes.”

You resist the urge to bang your head on the door or nearest wall. Time to head over to the nearest shop for chocolate. While you’d rather not buy it, no one says you have to actually give it. You can make up a guy to give it to and eat the chocolate yourself. Yeah, that sounds like an excellent plan. You’d give yourself a pat on the back.

And then remember, you need a ride back to your place. Since you don’t want to give them any ideas, you decide to not call any of those guys. You scroll down your phone list and see the number to your classmate, the one Victor was ‘not jealous’ of. Yeah, right. You decide to send him a text, knowing that nothing would happen between the two of you since you’re female, and he swings that way. His quick response startles you.

He’s on his way.

His quick appearance also startles you. “I was in the area. You know dropping off my gift.”

“Aren’t girls supposed to be giving the gifts?” You blink several times, trying to figure out how this same sex thing works. While you don’t mind them, you have no clue about how they interact with each other. Your research lands you straight into the doujinshi area. While they’re entertaining, you doubt they’re completely realistic. Then again fiction tends to exaggerate things.

“Someone has to initiate it, and since he doesn’t have a clue, I have to,” your friend says with a slight shrug. It makes sense to you. “Have you given yours chocolate?” In spite of his helmet, you can tell he’s waggling his eyebrows at you.

“Ugh… Not you too.”

“Oh. Whoops? Sorry.”

You wave him off. “Not your fault. My employees are more interested in the lack of my love life than actually working.” He hands over you the second helmet.

“You gonna head home or buy something for him?”

Good question. While you want to head home, the thought of giving your ‘crush’ chocolate on Valentine’s Day sounds appealing even if it’s store bought. Then again, he does have a very high standard, considering his culinary expertise. By now, you figure all the good stuff is gone. Now the thought of going home sounds appealing.

“You can always make him some. I mean I did for mine.”

You stare at him as if he’s grown a second appendage. It’s something you hadn’t considered. To cover up your inevitable blush due to your friend being too smart for his own good, you shove the helmet onto yourself. “Is there enough time?”

“Unless you take several hours, you’ll be fine. Hey, why don’t I help you? It’ll go faster.”

“But won’t that be kinda like cheating?”

“You’ll be doing most of the work. I’m there to make sure things go smoothly and offer any suggestions.” Technically you’d be making it, but a little advice never hurts, right? Especially when the recipient of that creation happens to be that guy. Mister Critical.

If that’s the case, there’s no need to think about it. “To the nearest supermarket!”

Levi chuckled as he picked up speed without driving recklessly, making you wonder why he doesn’t seem to be the type to drive fast. His personality fits, but then again, looks can be deceiving as you’ve experienced many times, often with you looking like a fool. He pulls up close to the entrance of what appears to be a family owned supermarket.

“Ah, friends of mine own this place,” Levi answers your question before you can even formulate it.

Leaving your helmets, you two make your way through the shelves. You take your time to look at what they have to offer. For being this size, they offer more of a variety than you anticipated. You wonder what you’re going to use in your chocolate. Of course, it will not be too sweet as he isn’t into sweets like you. He says you’re sweet enough for the both of you. Maybe a hint of sweetness. Yeah. That means dark chocolate. You head to where they keep the baking supplies while your friend wanders through the other aisles. Dark chocolate with maybe some accents of… white chocolate?

“How about some flavoring?” He pops up from the next aisle, completely surprising you into an almost heart attack. “Oops? My bad.”

Once you get your breathing and heart rate back to normal, you see what he’s holding. He has a few different flavors in small bottles. They appear small, but you know better. Since they’re concentrated, a few drops will suffice lest the recipient be overwhelmed with the flavor.

Vanilla, rose, strawberry, and mango?

“Can you bring me one of each?” You request. Variety makes things interesting, and if one fails, you’ll have the others as back-ups.

“Sure.” Levi disappears just as quickly and quietly as he appeared. You swear he’s part ninja or something. Maybe he’s a secret agent. You end that train of thought before it takes a surprise journey.

With him not distracting you, you return your attention to the selection of chocolates in front of you. You read the cacao concentration before picking something not too bitter but not sweet either. On second thought, you grab more as you don’t know how many attempts you’ll need before you manage to make a decent chocolate. Having the main ingredient in your basket, you search for the others. Somewhere along the line, Levi takes the basket from you as it’s becoming heavier with your selections. Not that it was impossible to carry. Having a gentleman with you can be useful especially when you know he’s not interested in you other than being a friend and possibly siblings.

At the register, the cashier rings up your purchases. Your friend and she know each other. Yet, why is she attempting to flirt with him? Not that it’s any of your business. You just hate it when people are disappointed. He is either oblivious or doesn’t care like a certain someone in your life. Well make that four guys you know.

“Levi, why didn’t you call?” a middle-aged man appears. “I would have prepared your favorite snack.”

He politely declines. “Spur of the moment decision, and I have urgent business to attend to.”

“What can be that urgent you don’t want to spend time with your old pal?” He notices you’re in the company of his friend. “I see. What a cute girl you’re with. Whose girlfriend is she?”

“Er…” You attempt to answer.

“That’s the urgent business. I’m helping her win her crush over.” He appears to be teasing you, but something in his tone tells you he’s serious about assisting you with your quest to win him over and especially not make a fool of yourself like you normally do.

“He’s not a crush,” you mumble.

“Who took classes on cooking with me?”

You probably could pass off as a human tomato at this point. “That’s different!” You rack your mind trying to dig yourself out of this hole you somehow managed to fall into. Your brain starts waving a white flag, easily surrendering.

Levi chuckles. “I’ll stop teasing you.”

“You took cooking classes?” The cashier gives your male friend those eyes.

“Well yeah. It’s not healthy eating out or pre-made meals.” You wish you could have said that earlier. As they say, hindsight is 20/20. You hate it.

“We’d better get going,” Levi says, prompting her to hurry up ringing you up. “She still needs to cook and then give it to him before the day ends.”

Once you paid for the ingredients, your friend takes it back to his motorcycle before securing it and then you. He hops onto his bike and then heads to your place. You’ve been to each other’s homes so neither of you needs directions.

“Let’s do this!” You’re very much pumped to make these chocolates. And well if they turn out not the greatest, no one said you couldn’t eat them yourself, right? You plan on eating all the fails anyways, but even though you love chocolate, you hope there aren’t too many of them.

Levi smiles while shaking his head. “You’re like the little sister I never had.”

You turn to stare at him. Family? This brings several questions to mind, mainly about his family which he has yet to share anything about. “Only child?”

“No, I had an adopted brother, but that’s about it.” Levi shrugs and carries the bag for you. Good thing, it’s heavy. He doesn’t say anything more so you drop it.

Inside your kitchen, the two of you clean up and start prepping to make the chocolate. He helps with the set up but once you start actually making it, he steps back and let’s you take over with him supervising you. You decide to create four different flavors. Kind of like the saying, ‘Life is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you’re gonna get.’ In addition to the flavoring, you have picked up some nuts, because well why not? Sometimes you believe he’s nuts.

Just as you’re about to put the pot with the chocolate on the stove, Levi holds your arm. “You don’t want to put it on direct heat. Use double broiler.” When you stare at him in confusion, he turns off the stove and explains. “Get a larger pot and fill it with water. Then you place this pot in it. Make sure the water doesn’t go into your chocolate.”

“Oh. No wonder why my first attempt ended horribly.” Whoops? You follow his advice and grab a larger pot to fill with water. Once it’s filled, you lug it over to your stove and turn it on. Next you place your pot full of chocolate in it. When it starts melting, you stir it and are thankful it doesn’t burn or turn hard. Wow. You’ll have to remember this for future use. This batch will be the vanilla flavored, some with nuts. Once it’s a nice gooey mess, you take it off the heat before grabbing your already prepared tray. You stir in some nuts and then meticulously pour it into the molds. When you used up what you melted so far, you ask your assistant to place it in the fridge while you start on the second batch.

As it turns out, you have more chocolate than you anticipate. Oh well you did prepare in case of fails, but so far, there haven’t been any as you have a very watchful assistant who keeps reminding you. Maybe you need to improve your concentration and not let your mind wander that often. It’s great for creating programs, not great when you’re trying to do something that requires concentration.

“Why not chocolate covered fruit?” Levi suggests as he rummages through your fridge. He emerges with a pack of strawberries. When did you get those? Oh wait, you went on a grocery run a few days ago. Come to think of it, you wonder why you picked up strawberries as they’re not in season. Maybe they were on sale? Given Valentine’s Day, you wouldn’t be surprised if that’s the case.

“I’ll pick up some whip cream later.” When you bring your gift to him, you plan on grabbing some. That’s until you see your assistant holding a tub of whip cream. “What?”

“I snuck it in while you’re distracted.”

Your eye twitches as you didn’t see him with it at all, but at the same time, you’re thankful. It means no detour. After all, he’s doing you more than a favor by not only driving, but supervising your cooking. This time, you know what to do. You wash the strawberries and have your assistant dry them off with paper towels. With him being busy, you start up the.. you lost count batch of chocolate. You get it to a nice consistency and turn off the stove. Then you realize, you don’t have anywhere to place them. You notice a lined tray ready to receive the strawberries. After thanking him, you begin dipping the strawberries and placing them on the prepped tray.

Minutes later, you’re finished and have a messy kitchen, but it’s worth it to make those home-made chocolate. As to whether, they’d taste good is up in the air. You’ve made a few extra for you two to try before you gift him with it. He gets up to start help with the clean-up, but you push him back down. Levi has done more than his share.

Once they’ve hardened, you take out your tester chocolates and divvy them between the two of you. For your first successful batch, they’re not too bad. It’s not like those sold at candy shops, however, they’re a vast improvement on your first attempt… attempts.

Between the two of you, you manage to find materials to wrap up your gift to him. You also decide to give him some of the chocolate as you’ve made more than you anticipated. A friendly Valentine’s gift. Levi surprisingly accepts it and pats you on the head like some sort of cute pet. Hey!

Victor-Victor-Victor-Victor

Since you know Victor happens to be a workaholic and little romance in his body, you know he won’t take today off. If anything, he may be annoyed with the amount of chocolate he’s receiving from his female (and maybe male) fans. You stare at the gift in your hands, wondering whether or not to give it to him since he’s probably more than irritated. A nudge from behind causes you to stumble a little.

“He doesn’t know you’re here.”

“Er… I’m worried he’d find me annoying.”

Levi leans back on his motorcycle. “Why would he find you annoying?”

You wave your hand. “Capitalist CEO. He didn’t become a leading financial institution by being a pushover… or romantic person.”

“I’m sure he’ll make an exception for you.” You blink several times. “You’re a funny, kind, generous, hard working person. How could he not fall for you? If he so much makes you cry, I’m taking him out of the picture.”

You don’t know whether to laugh or cry. Instead you hug him. “Thanks.”

“Now go sweep him off his feet, and remember what I said about making him disappear.” He releases you so you can go to him.

“Right…”

“After all, no one messes with my little sister and gets away with it.”

“I’m not little!” you pout, but the huge grin on your face gives you a comical appearance. You hug him for a second time. “Fine, big bro.” Then it occurs to you if he sees you as his little sister, then oh boy… Victor would be in for a world of hurt should he hurt you. Isn’t that what big brothers do?

“Just don’t kill him. I still need him to sign my paychecks.”

“All right. He’ll be missing a limb or two then.”

You playfully punch him. “I’m serious. He still needs to write.”

“Who ever said it’s those limbs?”

This time your whole face turns red and you smack him with your purse. “You!”

“Feeling nervous?”

Come to think of it, you’re not. He’s distracted you with his shenanigans. “Nope!”

Something falling catches your attention. You see Goldman hastily picking up folders and papers. Having some mercy on him, you decide to help him pick them up. Unfortunately some of them fly too far from either of you and are about to escape when your big brother catches them for you. You thank him for it.

Goldman sounds nervous as he’s trying to warn you of something. It sounds like gibberish. “Slow down and take a deep breath.”

“Later!” Levi waves to you.

“Bye, big bro!”

This time Goldman’s jaw drops. Did he think you two were? Oh boy.

“We’re not in that kind of relationship. More like we adopted each other as siblings… unofficially.”

Goldman lets out a sigh of relief. “It’s a warzone in there.”

“Let me guess. Victor has many admirers giving him unwanted gifts?”

“Ding ding ding. You have won a prize. Yeah, he’s in a very, very sour mood. Please don’t say anything to upset him further.”

You give him that look. “I’m not that bad.”

He returns that look. “Yes, you are. I don’t know how many times you’ve left boss stressed out. I lost count.” Hmph. See if you help him with any of his assignments.

“I guess it’s better I don’t give these.” You hold up your wrapped gift.

“Are those chocolates?” Goldman looks horrified at the thought.

“They’re not sweet! I made sure of it. They’re not the greatest, but I’m getting better at cooking.” You’re proud of what you’ve accomplished and how far you’ve come from being a walking kitchen disaster.

“You made them?” Goldman gulps as if you’ve made Victor his last meal.

You glare at him. “I’m not that bad, and big bro helped me with them.”

Goldman shakes his head. “Good luck in there.”

“What? You’re going home?”

“No. I’m running errands.” He checks his watch. “Oh crap, gotta go before it’s too late. Thanks for your help.” With his papers and folders secured, Goldman wastes no time in leaving you in the dust.

“Bye?”

Might as well be prepared to enter the battlefield, aka LFG. You check your gift for the hundredth time you’d probably stare holes into it. Everything is good to go… except your feet. You mentally shout at your feet to start moving. After several swear words and threats, your feet start moving to the entrance and then inside where everyone looks like there’s a ticking time bomb somewhere.

Come to think of it, there is a literal ticking time bomb who calls himself their boss, aka Victor. The people move skittishly around you as you make your way to their boss’ office. Having given so many reports, you can walk there in your sleep. As you come closer to his office, the people become more stressed out and anxious. You’re tempted to sneak up behind them and yell “BOO!” However, a figure who suspiciously appears to be victor pops up in your mind, telling you that it’s childish behavior.

Even in your mind, Victor is a kill joy.

Just as you’re about to raise your hand and knock, you hear several strange noises coming from behind that wooden barrier. You blink several times before placing your ear against the door. While it’s bad manners to eavesdrop, you’re worried about Victor. Is he hurt? Does he need an ambulance? That’s what you tell yourself when that same figure chastises you about listening on other people’s conversation. From what you hear, it doesn’t sound like someone needs medical assistance. Phew. You take a step back, but being the queen of klutzes, you trip on something invisible (rather yourself) and fall back, landing right on your rear.

“Ow…” Somehow you manage to keep your voice low though it’s not low enough as you hear movement from behind the door.

Glancing around, you scurry over to a place to hide. Why are you hiding when you’re there to see Victor? You have no idea. Impulse perhaps? It’s small. You shove yourself into that little corner, hoping he would not venture further than the doorway to look out.

Victor lets out his sigh which you believe is reserved for you when you’re behaving childishly, looking like a fool, or thinking something he considers stupid. “I know you’re here.” When you don’t move or make any noise, he sounds exasperated. “I’m not mad at you. Promise.”

Since he has never broken any promises, you crawl out of your little hiding place. As soon as you appear in his sights, he seems to be in disbelief. Probably because you’re there or how you managed to cram yourself into that tiny space.

“I heard you went home early,” Victor starts off. He appears like his normal self though you know better. Even if he won’t admit it, he’s worried about your health.

“I’m fine.”

“I can see that.” His posture screams he wants to know why you’re there in the first place.

“Err… I have something for you.” You walk up to him before shoving your gift at him, more like at his broad chest.

Victor turns his attention to the thing you’ve shoved at him. “What’s this?”

“If you want to know, you’ll have to open it,” you tease him. Given the wrapping design and theme, it’s not hard to guess you’re giving him a Valentine’s gift.

“I’m not into sweets.”

You puff up your cheeks. “I know that. I made sure they’re not too sweet.”

His long fingers start to meticulously unwrap his gift. “You made these?”

“Yep!” You sound very proud of yourself.

“Shouldn’t you be giving it to your boyfriend?”

EH???

“What boyfriend?” Seriously you don’t recall being into any guy.

“You hugged that guy twice.”

“Oh, what about big bro?”

This stuns Victor into silence for a minute or two. “You don’t have any brothers.”

“Well now I do!” Wait a moment. “You’re jealous of my gay brother again?”

“I’m not jealous of your gay brother… again? What’s that supposed to mean?”

This leaves you in giggling fits. It takes you a few moments and a stern look from him for you to calm yourself enough to talk. “Do you remember the cooking class you substituted for?” Nod of his head. “It’s the same guy. My gay friend turned gay brother.”

You catch a blush appear on his face just as he turns away. “Hopefully they’re edible.”

HEY! “I worked hard on them. Big bro says I’ve improved a lot.”

Victor motions for you to follow him into his office. There are several stacks of papers and folders both on his desk and around it. What’s going on? It’s never this cluttered when you’re there ever. Victor appreciates his space being clean and orderly. You should know as he scolds you for making a mess or for putting away things in the wrong places.

“If now isn’t a good time, I can leave,” you say in an unsure tone.

“I’m almost done.” Victor ambles over to his chair behind his desk. He picks up his glasses and places them on his face. Without looking in your direction, he adds, “I’ve made reservations at that new restaurant you wanted to try.”

What? You rack your mind, trying to think how he heard about it. The only person you told is your now new big brother while you two were making those chocolates.

“You mentioned it in your moments post.”

Oh that. Making those chocolates and then mustering up the courage to give them has pushed that thought way, way far down. “Hehehehe. I forgot about that.” Wait a moment. “I made that post during lunch. How could you get reservations? It’s hard to get them unless you make it days in advance.”

“I have my ways.” Victor shuffles papers around before settling on one. His eyes never leave it as he continues the conversation with you. “It’s called having connections. You can use more of them.”

Ouch… Does he have to be that brutal? Although you know he’s right, you wish he’d tell you in a more gentle way instead of dropping it on you like a bomb. You’ve been working on gathering connections and have invited a few influential people to your show. Had it been a year earlier, they wouldn’t even consider being on your show which indicates how much you’ve grown and learned under his care.

“You’re better than when you started.” Is this a complement? If it isn’t, you decide to take it as one.

“But isn’t it expensive?” You recall the reviews and how they say it’s pricy but definitely worth it for the quality and experience.

“That’s for me to worry about. All you need to worry about is what you want to eat.”

“Okay.” You make you way to one of the chairs when you realize one of the chairs is occupied by a large mountain of gifts. In fact, they’re practically burying the poor furniture. You hadn’t noticed this, however, to be fair, you had several things on your mind. The fact your gift hasn’t joined this enormous pile gives you hope that Victor would try what you’ve made. At least yours has a chance of being opened.

After pulling out your phone, you browse the restaurants website, more specifically their menu. Their prices cause you to wince. It’d take you a week of work to get enough money for one meal, and that’s for yourself alone. As if on cue, Victor tell you to order what you want and ignore the price. He can afford it. According to him, it’s cheap for that kind of restaurant.

Wow… Cheap. The life of the rich and infamous.

You pull out a pen and pad of paper from your purse. When Victor raises a brow, you stick your tongue out at him. “It’s for random ideas.” As soon as he returns to his work, you peruse their menu. There are a lot of things you’d like to try and most likely to overeat, making a fool of yourself in the process. So this time, you’ll come prepared. You will plan what you’re going to eat for future visits so as to not tempt yourself to eat more than your stomach can handle. For a second, you consider telling Victor, however, you squash that thought. He wouldn’t praise you or acknowledge you for something he considers trivial.

By the time you finish selecting your dishes for this visit, Victor has finished cleaning up. “Will you be ordering the entire menu?”

Ouch… “Yes,” you reply with a cheeky grin. “Hope you can afford it!”

Victor stands over you, looking down at you and your notes. His soft snort tells you he’s read them. “Indeed you have ordered everything.” He pauses. “Wise decision to spread it out on multiple visits.”

Oh my. Did he just praise you again? While you’re tempted to request he say it again, you decide it’s better to not push your luck. After all, he’ll be paying for future visits. Unless he increases your salary, you doubt you’d be able to afford it without having to make sacrifices and live off of cup noodles like a certain someone who shall remain nameless.

“Are you going to try your gift?” You ask as you follow him, noticing he’s carrying your gift with him.

“Chocolate is for dessert,” Victor reminds you, causing you to blush. Right.

“Does that mean you’ll try it after dinner?” You bat your eyes even though he can’t see behind him. He doesn’t have eyes in the back of his head or does he? Hm… He has a knack for catching you doing things when he’s not even facing you or looking in your direction.

“Yes.”

His one-word reply causes you to be giddy with delight. You hope he likes it as you’ve put effort into making it…. Even if it’s last minute, but he doesn’t have to know that! What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him for now.

Victor-Victor-Victor-Victor

With it being Valentine’s Day and Friday night, the restaurant is packed with a long line going out the door. If they’re willing to wait outside, then the food must be worth it. You become excited with anticipation. It may not be Victor level cooking, you appreciate good food.

“Victor, I—”

Some heavy set male runs straight into you causing you to lurch forward. Instinctively you brace for an impact that never arrives. Instead you find yourself in the embrace of the man you like a lot… maybe even love? Once Victor helps you back on your feet, you notice two things… Victor glaring and second your high heel is no longer high heel on the left side. You believe he’s glaring at you, however, he’s not looking directly at you, more like over you.

“Why should I apologize? She’s standing in the way,” the guy argues. Where should you stand? It’s not like there is a vacant spot for you to occupy. Now is there?

“You should look where you’re going. Perhaps you need glasses. I can help with that.”

The guy starts turning red. “I can see just fine.”

“Then you should have seen her.” Victor indicates you.

“She’s tiny. Careful someone might sit on her.”

Why you!

Victor stops you from marching straight up to him and giving him a piece of your mind. “On second thought, you’ll need a lawyer.”

“What?”

“You could have given her a concussion, and you broke her shoe.” So Victor did notice your heel-less left shoe. Hard to get anything past him.

“Gentlemen,” the restaurant’s manager speaks up. “There will be no violence in this establishment.”

“Tell that to him,” the rude guy grumbles.

“How is knocking someone over not violent,” you finally explode. “I coulda gotten a concussion.”

“Mister, please leave.” At first you think he’s referring to Victor, but his next words confirm who. “I’m terribly sorry, Mister.” He’s facing Victor. “Your table is this way.”

“Err…” You can walk but awkwardly with uneven shoes.

Victor understands what you’re trying to get at before you can say it. He literally sweeps you off your feet and carries you to your table. On your way there, more than a few customers look in your direction and whisper. Not everyday a guy carries a girl to their table.

Not like you have a choice given your broken footwear. Still it’s embarrassing to be stared at by these strangers. Somehow Victor ignores every single one of them. Of course, he does. He’s the great and mighty Victor. His name is very much appropriate for him.

At your private table, the manager fusses over the two of you, making sure you’re well taken care of before taking his leave. It makes you wonder if this is the usual service for Victor whenever he goes out or if it’s from the earlier incident. Thanks to you having decided what you want to eat before you arrived at the restaurant, you’re able to put in your order. Considering how packed this place is, you wouldn’t be surprised should service be slower than usual. Not that you’ll make a deal out of it.

Now what?

“Are you sure you’re just siblings?”

You groan. Not this again. “I’m sure of it. Unless I become a guy, he’s not interested in me.”

“You sure he isn’t lying?”

Here we go for another round. “I’m sure of it. We both like looking at cute guys and before you say anything, appreciation for nice aesthetics doesn’t mean I’m in love with them. It’s superficial level appreciation.”

Victor appears skeptical, but he doesn’t push it further.

A random thought pops into your mind, causing you to giggle.

“What useless thing are you thinking of this time?”

“All my thoughts aren’t useless. My mind can be creative and imaginative, okay?”

“What is it?”

You prop your head on your hands. “You should be more worried for yourself.”

“Oh?”

“If he’s going to hit on anyone, it’ll be you.”

Victor is stunned into silence. You’re not sure if he’s against same sex couples or tolerates them. Maybe it’s the realization that yes, there are men who would be after him. He probably had not even considered it much less thought about it.

“And if you hurt me, well you know how big brothers are overprotective of their little sisters.” You somehow recall he’s good at martial arts, very good at it. Hopefully he wouldn’t have to put it to use against a certain someone.

“He won’t have a chance.” Oh confident now are we?

Before either of you can say another word, your waiter arrives with a bottle of fine wine. “On the house.” She places it in a prepared container of ice. You peer at it. Oh it sounds good from what you’ve read. Apparently you’re not the only one who read it.

“You can have one glass.” That’s better than nothing. You’ll take it.

Victor-Victor-Victor-Victor

Man you’re stuffed. The food is too good, but not as good as a certain restaurant which Victor knows all too well, considering he owns it. You’re thankful you ordered just the right amount. Knowing yourself, you’d still keep eating even if you’re full.

You pull out your phone. “I’m going to give them a five-star review.” In your review, you write about your experience there including the incident before dinner and their heavenly cuisine. If Victor asks where you want to eat and doesn’t feel like cooking, you know what you’re answer will be.

Victor scoffs at this though he seems to be amused and overall in a good mood. When you place down your phone, you notice your gift has been opened.

“So what do you think?”

“Needs improvement.” Your spirits sink. “But you’ve come a long way from when you started. I’ve had my fair share of less than desirable results in the past. No one starts out good or perfect.”

Then Victor must have had some fails when he first started cooking. This somewhat lifts your spirits. Considering he has a huge head start over you, you take it stride. It’s not like Rome was built in a day as they say.

After paying for your meal (minus the wine), Victor once again sweeps you off your feet to carry you to his car. Unlike some big wigs, he doesn’t need a chauffeur to drive him around. He’d probably become too impatient waiting for the poor person.

“Where are we headed?” You ask as soon as you’re safely secured and he’s behind the wheel.

“To the mall.”

“Eh?”

“Your broken shoes.”

Oh. “I can repair them at home.” You don’t want to trouble him more than necessary.

“I’m buying you better ones, sturdier shoes.” In his language, it means more expensive and better quality.

By now you should be celebrating. Free dinner and shoes, but somehow your heart isn’t into it. You’re not sure why.

“Aren’t you going to gloat about getting free shoes?”

You turn your head to face him. “Not in the mood.”

“Is something wrong?” Victor sounds genuinely concerned, given how you love to banter with him.

“It’s… I don’t know. I guess I’m not ready for this to end.”

“Is that so?” Victor takes a few seconds to look at you before turning his attention back to the road.

“I’m actually enjoying spending time with you.” Shut up mouth! Why don’t you dig a hole and bury yourself in it?

“Are you sure it’s not the food?”

This time you glare at him. “It’s not always about the food. Believe it or not, good company makes the food taste even better.”

“I see.” No, you don’t.

You puff up your cheeks and stare out the passenger side window. Could this get any more awkward? Scratch that. You don’t want to jinx yourself.

“Why don’t you spend the night at my place?”

Say what?

“A certain someone says she doesn’t want this to end.”

Right. “I don’t have my stuff.”

“Already taken care of.” How in the world? You decide not to question it.

Victor-Victor-Victor-Victor

At the mall, Victor carries you as he’s not willing to risk you tripping and falling due to your broken shoe. Says that you’re a walking disaster with two good shoes. When he teases you, you can feel the warmth and affection in his voice. He does care in his own way, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. It just wouldn’t be him.

When the sales lady notices you and your predicament, she hurries over to you. “You poor thing. I’ll find a pair of shoes that’ll flatter your figure.” How does she know your size?

After Victor places you on a chair, you take off your shoes and turn one of them over. Oh… Right in the middle is your size. You haven’t worn this pair enough times to wear out the writing. Meanwhile Victor stands guard over you. Not like you’re going to have another person try to shove you to the ground.

The sales lady returns with a dozen pair of shoes. How she managed to carry all of them. You’re not sure nor do you ask. She does have good taste in footwear. You try on all of them, some of them twice. So many nice shoes, but you only need one pair. You don’t feel like owing Victor a lot. After some consideration and thought, you narrow your selection down to two.

“Which looks better? This or that?” You’re wearing one of the pairs.

“We’ll take them both.”

“Um… I need one pair.” Mouth, stop moving and let him buy you the damn shoes.

“Since a certain dummy can’t decide, I’ll buy them both for her.” Victor grabs the box for the shoes you’re wearing and the other pair. He heads over to the cash register.

“You have a nice boyfriend.”

BOYFRIEND?! “Er… we’re good friends.”

“Are you sure about that? The way he looks at you.”

You blink in confusion. “He’s probably annoyed with having to replace my broken shoes.”

She laughs. “No. He looks at you like you’re his most precious person, a treasure he intends to protect.”

“Eh? How do you know it’s that?”

She holds up her left hand. “My husband does that a lot.” Now you notice the ring on her finger. She’s married. “Take my advice, don’t let this one go. He’s a keeper.”

“Right.”

Once he’s paid for the shoes, you insist on taking a stroll through the mall to walk off dinner. Victor isn’t happy though he indulges you, and the two of you take a leisurely walk through the building. Good thing this is an indoor mall so you don’t have to deal with the cold weather. As you pass by the window displays, you take a good look at their merchandise. A pair of rings catches your attention.

“Promise rings.” You didn’t plan to say it out loud. You did anyways.

“Those are for children.”

You roll your eyes at him and point at the price tag. “I don’t think children can afford that on their allowance.”

“Right.”

The cute puppies and kitties catch your attention. You hurry over to look at them and maybe they’ll let you pet them! They’re so adorable. Although you’re tempted to adopt one, you know you don’t have the time or energy to properly look after one. Maybe one of your friends will let you pet sit? You’d be more than willing to look after their furry four-legged family member for a short time. After all, you took care of Pearly while Gavin was away on a mission.

Inside the store, they have more than kitties and puppies. They have fishes, mice, lizards, and birds. You’re not crazy about mice or lizards. The fish are pretty to look at, but they’re kind of boring. It’s not like you can play with them or pet them. A small bird wanders to you and starts whistling. Is it serenading you? You glance around to see if the employees would let you pet the bird. Sadly they’re all busy. You reach in and the bird scoots over to your hand before climbing onto your finger. Then it makes its way up your arm and onto your shoulder. It snuggles against you.

“Oh wow, he’s never been this friendly with anyone.” A store employee appears, startling you and inadvertently the bird too. “Sorry. We normally don’t let people touch him. He tends to be grumpy most of the time.”

You reach up and start petting him. He leans into your touch, chirping in content. “Really? He seems friendly.” If this bird is as how the employee makes him out to be, you’ve found Victor in bird form it seems. Maybe this can be Victor Junior? Thinking about Victor, where is he? You thought he’d follow you into the store.

“Miss?”

“Yes?”

“Please adopt him! I’m begging you.”

What?

“You’re the first person he’s been nice to. I didn’t think he would be attached to anyone.”

“Um… I’m busy so I don’t think I can properly care for him.”

“You’ll do fine. These are great starter birds since they’re not hard to take care of.” The store employee begins telling you the benefits of having a pet and one that’s low maintenance. You find out this is a cockatiel. Thinking about the name causes you to giggle.

Between the store employee and the cute birdy eyes, you break down and decide to adopt this adorable creature. This time, you’re paying for him along with what’s needed to keep him happy and healthy. He’s content to sit on your shoulder the entire time and growls whenever he thinks someone is a threat to you.

Cage, food, toys, perches, feeding dishes, something for water, some basic first aid, and the bird himself.

“What makes you think you can take care of a pet?”

This startles you and causes him to almost fall off your shoulder. “They’re not hard to take care of, and he’s cute.”

“All animals are cute to you.”

“Not all of them.” You glance over to the lizard section. “And he really likes me.”

“Right. Are you sure it’s not some sales gimmick?” Victor folds his arms over his chest, waiting for your answer.

“I’ve seen him interact with others. He isn’t social but he’s friendly with me.” You reach up to pet him, which he happily accepts. “He’s like a bird version of you.”

Victor lets out an exasperated sigh. “Since you’ve already bought him, let’s take the stuff to my car.” Wow, you didn’t think Victor would be on board with you purchasing a pet this quickly. You decide not to point it out.

On the way to his place, the bird is content with being on your lap. You’ll need to name him since you can’t keep calling him the bird or bird.

“Victor Junior or Vic for short.”

“What are you up to this time?”

“He’s just like you.”

“….”

“So I’m naming him after you.”

“This is ridiculous.”

You stick your tongue out at Victor. Victor Junior copies you, much to your amusement. “Our son isn’t ridiculous, are you?” You coo at the little bird.

“Our son?”

“Fine, my son.”

Victor-Victor-Victor-Victor

Victor Junior has picked up quite a vocabulary during his stay at the pet shop. You can’t help but giggle at his antics. Since you’re spending the night there, you’ve set up his cage once human Victor has brought in his supplies. It’s getting late and Victor Junior looks tired. He’s yawning up a storm. You place him in his cage so he can get some sleep.

Since Victor is a gentleman, he insists you sleep in his guest room. It appears while you’re taking care of the bird, he prepared the guest room for you. Before he takes his leave so you can change, he holds out a small box. Is that a ring box? You open it to find one half of the promise ring set.

“Are you asking me to be your girlfriend?”

Victor stutters, attempting to deny it and saying that you’re interested in it.

“Now look who’s being silly.” You pull out the ring and slide it onto your finger before giving a surprised Victor a hug. “Does this answer your question?”

His response? He pulls you in for one passionate kiss.

Where the hell did he learn to kiss like that?

#mlqc #mlqc victor #mlqc li zeyan #mlqc zen #mlqc MC #birb #otome0heart #mlqcsanta20

64 notes · View notes