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chockfullofsecrets · 3 years

Note

"If I'm not careful I'm gonna end up writing content for a character who literally never appears in 141 episodes"

I mean, you are more than welcome to. In fact, we will gratefully encourage this.

you encourage chock? you encourage chock like the author? oh! oh! tk fic for anon! tk fic for anon for Two Thousand Words!

(also, heads up that i am moving next week! have been working on Importance of Timing when i can, but the first chapter probably won't be here for another two weeks at least.)

---

Verin Thelyss, Essek knows, is a seasoned battle commander and strategist.

He’s also in possession of the instinct to tackle people when he’s excited, so Essek is well aware that it’s only those decades of training and experience that have his little brother pausing for the briefest instant as Caleb and Jester teleport him into the hold of the Nein Heroez before he launches himself at Essek in a dead run.

Veth and Caduceus are at their respective homes, Kingsley watching over the ship, but he is far from alone - Yasha and Fjord each have a supportive hand on his shoulder, a silent assurance from the tense minutes waiting for their friends to return from Bazzoxan. They swear in unison and scramble for their weapons as Verin screeches to a halt just shy of shunting Essek straight though the hull and yanks him into a rib-crushing hug.

He burrows into the junction of Essek’s neck and shoulder, made possible only by virtue of the activated floating spell that puts the coiffed swoop of his hair a full inch above Verin’s. “Thank the fucking Light, you’re not actually dead.”

“What the fuck, he’s like a swearing puppy,” Beau hisses. There’s a soft thwap as Fjord gently smacks her across the back of the head.

Essek is feeling out the edges of friendly intimacy, still, stumbling through every brush of fingers and shared look of exasperation, but even he does not need Jester’s frantic gesturing to prompt him to lift his arms and awkwardly wrap them around Verin’s shoulders.

It’s like wrapping a single thread of silk around one of Yasha’s biceps. Clearly he is not built for comforting.

Verin stiffens with a single sharp twitch of his ear against Essek’s collarbone . Essek’s thoughts flail wildly between an expectation of tears or a dagger to his ribs, but his brother just laughs, loud and hearty, and snuggles even further into his personal space. “I see someone’s finally taught you how to hug back - you should have written and told me, this is better news than any number of pages on den politics.”

Essek bristles. “Careful, or I will stop,” he huffs, somewhat more waspishly than he intends to.

Luckily, Verin has proven immune to his moods. “Oh, please don’t,” he insists, voice still crackling with glee. He grins, warm and wide enough that Essek can feel it against the side of his neck. “It just makes doing this that much easier.”

“Doing what,” Essek says reflexively, even as the tiny portion of his brain that he allows to remember his childhood starts to blare an alarm. “Verin-”

It’s far too late to realize that Verin’s hands have somehow been maliciously positioned just along the backs of his ribs.

Jester, standing with Caleb behind Verin, perks up in clear interest as the corners of his mouth start to twitch up. On second thought, Essek thinks he’d have preferred the dagger.

“Verin,” he hisses again, fighting back the anticipatory shiver crawling up his back. “Don’t - don’t you dare-”

It’s about then that Verin’s evil, evil fingers find the edges of his mantle’s arm slits and squeeze him even closer as they stretch to wriggle under his arms.

He snatches his arms back, but it’s too late - a dismayed giggle sneaks from his throat, then another, and then he’s beating helplessly at Verin’s shoulders as he dissolves into high, squeaking laughter.

Every single nerve between his armpits and his ribs squirms in unison - a bubbly, slippery sensation even more potent for how long it’s been since he last felt it. “No,” he shrieks. “I - ahaha! eeheee! - no tickling, no tickling, Verin-”

Jester looks thrilled - she’s bouncing on her toes, babbling something to Caleb that’s inaudible over the rush of his own laughter. Light, the Nein are going to tear him apart for this-

“Yes, tickling,” Verin protests, laughing right along with him. “All the tickling! You let me think you were dead! For months! I thought I was never going to get to watch my poor brother giggle himself to pieces ever again!”

He’s not, because Essek is going to kill him. “That - nahaha, hff, ahaaa! - that was - ha - it’s been decades - stop, stop, there’s people!”

“Yeah, people,” Beau says, loud and smug and far too close behind him. “Hey - Verin, was it? - does hotboi here have a worst spot?”

Oh no. Oh no. Essek squeezes his eyes shut in a desperate attempt to focus and does the only thing he can while laughing like an idiot.

With a shaky flick of his wrist, his floating dispels. Verin yelps in surprise as gravity takes Essek straight out of his grip.

The instant his boots hit the deck, Essek twists the rest of the way out of his grip and bolts.

There’s nowhere to go, really - the Nein have a room full of Counterspells, and Verin can run faster than he can, and he’s already tumbling halfway back into laughter in giddy anticipation of being caught. Still, it’s a surprise when he stumbles into a brick wall of leather and biceps that resolves itself into Yasha as she hoists him back into the air.

“Oh, where do you think you’re going?” She sounds admirably innocent given the soft, teasing smile she gives him.

“Noooo,” Essek giggles. Heat gathers in his cheeks as he tries to make himself stop - it doesn’t make sense, he’s not even being tickled anymore, but even the potential for it flutters light and fizzy at the bottom of his lungs. “I - I’m not ticklish anymore, I’m not-”

The Nein and Verin cluster around the two of them, bubbling with various levels of amusement. “Really?” Beau drawls. “It’s cute that you think denying it has a single fucking chance of working.”

The sarcasm helps him center himself, if only a little - he buries his face in Yasha’s arm and sucks in a deep breath that doesn’t do nearly enough to get rid of his blush.

He straightens as best he can while being bear hugged by a barbarian. “I am denying nothing,” he says carefully. Jester is still bouncing next to Beau, fingertips already twitching where they’re curled sweetly on her cheeks around a mischievous beaming smile, and Essek has to look away before the nervous snickers still wobbling on the back of his tongue can worm their way free. “I am well aware that Verin is - incorrigible-”

He hisses the last word in his brother’s direction - again, harsher than he intends, but he is so unused to being soft around him - and fails to contain a shy smile as Verin sticks his tongue out in retaliation.

Jester’s tail waves its way into the edge of his peripheral vision. He jumps and looks over at Fjord instead. “-but I, ah, I would ask for more respect from the rest of you-”

“You really shouldn’t,” Fjord says, grinning boyishly back at him. “I mean, you know us.”

And then, to Fjord’s right - “Essek?”

He’s been avoiding looking at Caleb. It is foolish, perhaps, to think that after all of the incredibly stupid things he knows Essek has done he will decide to judge him for this, but he cannot help the way his shoulders stiffen as he twists a little further to meet the gaze of the last link in their semicircle. “Yes?”

Caleb looks - focused, in an offhanded way, like he’s intent on something happening just slightly out of their current reality. Stunned might be a better word for it. He blinks for a moment before focusing those keen blue eyes somewhere near Essek’s eyebrows. “Ah - did you know that when you laugh, your ears -” He puts his hands up to his own ears and flaps them a little.

Drow do not run particularly warm, but that only makes it easier for Essek to feel the heat absolutely flood back into his face. “I-” he stammers. Nearly a century of politics is nowhere near enough to help him keep a straight face. “I - ah - eeh!-”

Caleb is close enough to reach out and run a questing fingertip over Essek’s left ear - it flicks wildly, trying to dislodge the unexpected tickle, but a surprised squeak still slips out.

There’s a moment of silence before Verin starts to snicker. “Oh, I like your friends,” he says merrily, beaming. “Go on, Light knows he doesn’t let himself laugh enough otherwise.”

“Don’t,” Essek gets out hastily, but Caleb is already reaching out for another go and Yasha’s grip is firm enough that all he can do is squeak again. “Wait - hm, hnn!”

Beau sidles up to Yasha’s side and gives him a self satisfied leer as she reaches out across their little group to pluck the feather from Fjord’s tricorn. “You got him, babe?”

“I do,” Yasha confirms and lets out a little squeak of her own as Beau reaches around her, no doubt squeezing something entirely inappropriate with company present.

“Hot,” Beau smirks, and reaches to flutter the feather over Essek’s right ear. “Aw, does that tickle? Thought you said you weren’t ticklish, man.”

Essek maintains some facsimile of composure for all of two seconds before his face crumples “Nnn - hehehe - eheehe - oh!”

His lungs are surely going to burst, with the way they’re shivering out desperate giggles as he shakes his head frantically between Caleb’s fingers and the teasing feather. He can’t move his arms, so he kicks his legs instead. “Please,” he begs, nearly incomprehensible even to his own ears. “Ah - aha, heeheehee! - tickles-”

Verin leans down and scoops his ankles up with one ridiculously sculpted arm. “Essek, you’re going to put a hole in someone with those boots.”

He looks up, raising his eyebrows teasingly, and Essek’s stomach drops like he’s cast something on it. “Here, I’ll fix that.”

Essek’s eyes, narrowed with laughter, shoot wide open. He doesn’t remember Verin being this evil - but then again, his brother’s never been egged on by five other people determined to render reports of his death more realistic.

“Verin, Verin, no-” he tries, but he’s giggling so hard that he can’t even get the words out. He twists as far away from Caleb and Beau as he can, flailing frantically, but Verin’s grip holds firm.

He pouts dramatically. “What? Is it my fault that my tiny, ticklish wizard brother insists on wearing metal-tipped boots that endanger everyone?”

Essek opens his mouth to reply and promptly dissolves into another frantic peal of laughter as Beau gets bored of his ears and shoves her feather in Caleb’s direction before jabbing a finger between his trapped arm and his chest to get at his armpit. “Your - shihihit, shit, ahahaaa, not there! - your arcanist brother is going to kill you just as soon as I can- hahaha!”

Verin just laughs, unlacing one of his boots and starting to slide it off. “Is that your attempt to convince me not to tickle your feet?”

Jester, practically vibrating, emits a sound that perhaps only weasels can hear. “Oh, that’s so cute! Can I have one of them?”

“One of his feet? Sure.” Verin hands over an ankle, grinning down at Jester. “You, I think you’re my favorite.”

As Essek gasps and struggles and falls further and further into a formless mirth that makes him feel so light he can hardly bear it, there’s a different sensation at his ear. A hazy portion of his brain identifies it as the rough bristle of chin scruff and an amused huff of breath.

“You don’t really want them to stop, do you,” Caleb murmurs. “I will help you, if you do.”

It’s quite unfair, Essek feels, to try and make him explain himself while he’s strung out and dizzy with laughter. He tries anyway, for a syllable or two, but Verin digs in between two of his toes and he ends up just tipping his cheek against Caleb’s and shaking, laughing too hard to make a single sound.

“Alright, then,” Caleb says. “In that case-”

He brandishes the feather with a flourish more suited to somatic casting, swooping it down the length of Essek’s nose before directing it back to his ear.

“Tickle, tickle...”

#asks #tickling #critical role #essek thelyss #verin thelyss #caleb widogast #chocfic

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stonefreeak · 3 years

Text

My goodness people, I’m so sorry for the delay! I’ve been working on the structuring of my files to get a better overview of what remains of the project, to hopefully be able to speed writing up (even as work really means that my free-time is much more limited than it was once upon a time, lmao. Sometimes I miss December of 2016 when this whole thing started, 33k in a month of updates, amirite?)

it’s taken me so long I’m wondering if anyone even remember this plot point at this point, lmao

Also: belated happy midsummers to all my fellow Swedes!

Bail taps his finger against this desk and stairs unseeingly at the datapad in front of him.

He hadn't been sure if the information Aleena Yashi gave him, though she's worked as an assistant to multiple senators over the years, was true. But everything checks out. He briefly wondered why she would come to him about it, rather than Senator Lobos who she's currently working for... But perhaps it's because he's known to have a favourable view of the Jedi that she's done so. Perhaps it's because all of this information mostly pertains to the Jedi and the laws surrounding them, and she wanted a prominent Senator who she could trust not to hide the information away because they don't care for the Jedi.

Bail, a Core World Senator well known for his good relationship with the Jedi and friendship with the current Supreme Chancellor, must have seemed like the best option for her. He wonders who else would have been on her list, before she settled on him, but he chose not to ask when she visited him. Perhaps it's better if he doesn't know; it hardly matters now anyway.

He looks down at the datapad again and considers his options.

He should probably discuss her findings with her, and see what exactly her goal is. If he's to do something about this, then he wants her involved even as he gathers support from other senators.

He has no doubt that Padmé will agree to add her support to Bail to help sort this mess out, but considering that they've both been involved with the investigation they're conducting into Jedi missions being altered... Well, Bail wants more Senators involved this time. Just to ensure that it cannot be taken as some form of conspiracy in favour of the Jedi. As ridiculous as that notion seems, Bail is not blind to the way many Senators look at the Jedi, nor to the fact that many of them don't seem to believe that they're really capable of what they say they are.

Few people besides the Jedi truly believe in the Force, after all.

Few people could believe in something they cannot know for themselves when others supposedly have a direct connection to it. Bail is one of the few who does believe them, he's seen what the Jedi can do first-hand. There's nothing else that can account for that kind of power besides this Force they talk of. They and other groups out there, it’s not only the Jedi, after all.

Besides, he knows many of them personally, and while Bail may not understand or follow all of their beliefs or traditions, he also knows that they're not a bunch of charlatans faking it for power of money—though he knows some of his fellow senators believe that to be the case. Even senators on Coruscant, who've seen Jedi in real life, seem to believe them little more than myth.

Bail has been kept up to date on the investigation into the Jedi missions, though he’s not taking an active role in it right now, and he’s certain that he has been kept in the loop to give legitimacy to the investigation. Give it a proper paper trail, even if it’s done with the Senate’s highest level of security. A strictly need-to-know basis, and until it’s finished, no one else needs to know.

Of course, Bail asked Obi-Wan in private if he would be allowed to tell Breha. As his Queen and the leader of Bail’s planet, he found it important to clue her in on it. Besides, it’s another step of legitimacy. After all, if Breha takes an active stance on it, then so does Alderaan.

If anyone wants to accuse the investigation at a later date for being a sham… Well, they will need to accuse Alderaan of engaging in it in the first place. Bail isn’t stupid enough to think that it’s not one of the primary reasons Obi-Wan agreed with Bail’s request.

They’re friends, and Obi-Wan likes Breha, but this is not about being friends. This is about political allyship and keeping sensitive information on as tight a lock-down as they can until the time to reveal it comes.

Besides, as worried as Bail has become with Miss Yashi’s information, it’s even worse when considered together with the altered Jedi missions and not in the least… Well, the war time propaganda. There's no point in shying away from what it is, and the ramifications it has.

Considering how most of the war time propaganda—Bail can acknowledge it for what it is, there truly is no point in trying to deny the facts—focuses almost exclusively on the clones and their efforts in the war, it's hardly strange that the general population neither know nor understand them.

Further considering the information that Bail has now confirmed to be real and accurate... He understands that the omission of the Jedi is entirely deliberate. If you want to discredit and undermine the Jedi, why would you ever speak of their accomplishments and sacrifices? You wouldn't, as that would bring public support to them.

Bail sighs and rolls his shoulders.

He needs to build a following, he cannot properly push this alone. But he also understands why Miss Yashi brought it to him alone, first. A Core World Senator is far harder to make "disappear" than a Twi'lek Senatorial aide, no matter how awful that is to say. Bail can't go missing, and any attempt on his life would have a bit more trouble hitting its mark.

That's not to say that it would be impossible for someone to assassinate him, which is of course why he'll make sure that Breha is entirely up to speed on everything.

All of it together... There is some form of conspiracy to discredit or perhaps even get rid of the Jedi; Bail is sure of it. But he cannot see to what end. What are they trying to achieve?

For what reason would anyone work to discredit the Jedi? What is the end goal to strive for? There’s no way for the politicians to dissolve the Jedi Order, they are not in that way under Senate control. They could, of course, remove all of their backing, forcing the Jedi to become free agents, certainly…

But for what purpose? It would leave the Republic without the Jedi as peacekeepers, for the Jedi would hardly remain to do diplomacy work for the Senate without its backing. After all, what would the point be? Without the Senate’s backing, the Jedi would have far less ability to do anything.

How could they negotiate treaties if the Senate won’t honour them?

They could, perhaps, be a neutral third party within discussions. But there’s no reason for anyone to listen to their input in such a case. It’s hard enough to get disagreeing parties to listen to external input when you come with powerful backing that could make you listen even if you refuse.

How could they function with no funding? They would need to work on commission, at which point only those who can afford their help can get it. That would be the opposite of an improvement.

To not even begin to talk about how few of them there are, how few of them there were even before the war. Their population is not even a hundredth of a percent of Alderaan’s population, and Alderaan is only a single planet within the tens of thousands of star systems that make up the Republic—nevermind the entire galaxy. There’s just not enough of them, and hasn’t that always been a problem even while they’re working under the Republic? Too few, spread too thin.

No, if the Jedi became free agents, their ability to affect change would be greatly diminished. Bail is quite certain they’d work on much smaller scales, still trying to do what they can for the galaxy, bit by bit. Working with smaller communities on planets and moons… If they even had the ability to find out about disputes that may need their help in the first place.

Losing the Jedi as peacekeepers isn’t a win for the Republic either, as the budget for the Jedi was already miniscule even before it started being diminished—as Miss Yashi’s discovery shows. It cannot be an attempt at cost saving, or an idea of improvement for the Republic. Needing to train their own diplomats and ensure that they have skilled enough guards… That would be more expensive and it would not be able to guarantee that these diplomats are neutral in conflicts.

The Jedi have no specific allegiances the way diplomats and even Senators have. Even the least corrupt Senator will still place their own planet and star system first. It is part of their role, after all.

So no, it cannot be something like that. Not unless the people slowly enacting this are horribly misguided and foolish. Not to mention, Bail knows most Senators would simply call for making away with the Jedi entirely, rather than this slow plan to undercut them.

No… There must be something else going on here, some other primary goal whoever is pulling these strings is looking out to do.

He’ll need to figure it out, no doubt, Bail concludes.

But beyond that, he also needs to build a base to help him bring this information he’s been given to the Senate’s attention. He is quite sure already who he should be looking towards first: Senator Ach’ki Mandai of Haa’ndu.

Who better to help him bring this to Senate attention than the Senator who ensured a Jedi now sits as the Supreme Chancellor of the Galactic Republic?

—

(Supreme Chancellor Obi-Wan Kenobi masterpost)

#Supreme Chancellor Obi Wan Kenobi #star wars #bail organa #update #my writing

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bcdaily · 3 years

Note

jily childhood friends running into each other years later?

Ta-dah! Thank you for the prompt! Now I have to write shorter things, or I’ll never get another done. XD

She knew that hair.

It was a glimpse—a fleeting hint of familiar dark chaotic strands protruding above the multitude of milling heads inside the crowded hotel lobby. Lily stopped where she stood, certain—certain…but that was foolish, surely? It was hair. Billions of people had hair. Even distinctive hair like that. And what would he be doing here, what were the chances…She darted left, slipping through other conference attendees, following the bobbing head of black. Her fingers toyed absently with the lanyard around her neck. Her feet kept moving. She was closing in. But—shit—he was turning into the next doorway. She’d lose him—

“Potter!” she shouted.

The bobbing black head stopped in the doorway threshold. He turned.

Something pulled inside Lily’s chest.

God, it was.

His mouth—an older mouth; familiar features spread across a matured frame, sharper and wider—formed her name. A question. His head tilted.

She squirmed around the last huddled group of conference-goers blocking her path. A middle-aged skeletal bloke shot her an annoyed look as she prodded past him. A server carrying a tray of canapés swerved around her. She wished the tray had been alcohol. She might need it. She wasn’t sure.

James Potter had grown up to be tall. Cresting six feet, easily. His limbs were long, his chest wide, but his hair—that hair—hadn’t changed a bit. Neither had his smile: bright, crooked, with the same infectious delight he’d managed so easily at eleven, now captured just the same in a man of twenty-four.

Twenty-four. They were twenty-four now. She hadn’t seen him in thirteen years.

“Lily Evans,” he said, audibly this time, and the smile grew brighter. “Shit.”

“Shit,” Lily repeated, laughing. Now that there was nowhere to go, no further crowds to weave through, no mop of dark hair to stalk, she was not quite sure what to do. She hadn’t thought past the part of just confirming it was him. Somehow, magically, him. Strange, strange, strange. Now they were standing before each other and—

And he was good-looking.

Had been, back then, at eleven. But that was eleven, and those things didn’t often last. Features shifted. Bodies changed. Conventions came and went at whim. Who could keep up?

James Potter could, apparently.

Not that that was the point. She hadn’t chased him down because he was fit. She could only see his head, for Christ’s sake. She hadn’t known. Not about the height, about the posh specs and the twinkling hazel eyes, about the tanned, sculpted forearms revealed beneath the rolled-up sleeves of his button-down. It wasn’t—

He eyed her, eyeing him. “Do we…hug…or…?”

She snorted. “I don’t know.”

“Reckon I ruined it by asking.” He stuck his hands in his pockets. “Not as natural now.”

“Yes, quite ruined.”

“Ah, well. Will do better next time. Meet again in another…what’s it been? A decade or so?”

“Thirteen years, by my count.”

“Thirteen? Bloody hell, I can’t wait another thirteen years. I’ll be dead. Let’s just—”

And then somehow he was hugging her, and Lily was laughing again, and her fingers were digging into his back as she clutched him to her.

He had a nice back, James Potter did.

A nice smell, too.

The first boy she’d ever kissed remembered to shower. Lovely.

In the past ten seconds, she’d grown greedy and impetuous. As he pulled away, she darted up on her toes and dropped a hasty kiss to his cheek. Stolen, like a criminal. She was in a hotel lobby filled with barristers, and not a single one could convict her, so stealthy was she.

His fingers trailed down her arm as their bodies detangled. Her skin burned along the path.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, stepping back. She really, really needed to step back. “I mean, it’s good to see you—strange to see you, really, but—you’re a barrister?”

It didn’t fit the James Potter in her head. The boy who’d grown up alongside her, had lived in the sprawling, noble house at the top of the hill, running wild with the lot of them in Cokesworth, until he wasn’t. That boy had certainly had the cleverness and confidence to pull off law, but not the patience or deference to its structures and politics. He would’ve collapsed under the piles of paperwork. He would have crowed agony at the rules, the formalities, the bureaucracy. Had that swotty boarding school his parents’ packed him off to changed him so very much?

James pulled a face. “Fuck me, no. I’m running the catering for the conference. My mum—”

“—owned a restaurant,” Lily recalled, somehow delighted not to have pegged him wrong. She closed her eyes wistfully. “God, that’s right. When you moved, we were all bereft. I think I still smell that eggplant appetizer of hers in my dreams.”

“The caponata?” His grin turned sneaky. “She still has it on the menu.”

“Where?”

“Casa. SoHo.”

Lily had heard of it. To think, James Potter, her childhood friend and mild fixation, just a few tube stops away, for who knew how long. “So you’re in London?”

“Since university,” he confirmed. Then his head tilted, and the sneaky smile turned coy. “So you’re a barrister? In London?”

“Yes.” She waved her conference lanyard like a white flag, surrender. “Wildly disappointed?”

“No. It fits.” Humour weaved through his voice—deeper and cooler now, all grown up. “No one could ever win an argument with you. And I tried. It was fun.”

He’d been a menace. He’d taken such delight from getting a rise out of her. But even as children, talking with him had been addicting. There were so few who could match wits with her, even fewer who didn’t take it personally, who dusted themselves off after a rousing debate and stuck out their hand, a shake of respect for the good time. James Potter had been like that. It’s why she’d cornered him behind a tree in the park where they all used to play, just before his parents had packed up house and he’d left for boarding school. With his back against the tree bark, she’d pressed her lips against his and waited to see what he did with it.

He’d cupped her chin with both of his hands and pressed his lips harder against hers.

It was closed-mouths, mere seconds. A first for both of them.

But to this day, Lily’s knees still went weak when someone held her face.

Silly. Stupid. She talked about work to make the memory go away.

“A bit less fun now. It’s mostly forms and deadlines and”—she waved her hand around the room—“swotty, deadly dull networking conferences. I’m just out of school. I hardly do anything yet.”

“But you’re good at it,” James stated, definitive.

She didn’t bother to hide her preen. Was wary by how much pleasure she took out of his automatic confidence in her. “Yes. I’m very good at it.”

They stared at each other, grinning.

He had a girlfriend. Lily was certain of it. There was no way this man did not have a significant other. Or maybe there was a very good reason, because she knew absolutely nothing about him. She hadn’t seen him in thirteen years. Entire lives were lived in thirteen years. Who knew what kind of person he was now? He could cut a dashing figure, hold a conversation, but maybe he also cut up bodies in his flat for fun. Maybe he bit his toenails. Maybe he liked The Big Bang Theory. Maybe he drank milk straight from the carton and then put it back in the fridge.

“You didn’t grow up ugly, James Potter,” she said.

“I looked you up on Instagram a few times,” he replied immediately. “You never post pictures of yourself. But I like your cat.”

“His name is Bosley.”

“I know.”

Lily squinted at him. “What else do you know?”

Hazel eyes gleamed. “Interesting question.”

James Potter’s hands were much larger now. If he worked with his mum in her restaurant, they were probably rough—calloused from use, nicked with cuts and crevasses from an absent knife or oil burned too hot. Eleven-year-old James’s hands had been cool and soft. This James’s hands wouldn’t be.

Lily quelled a shiver.

“You—”

“James?” A server appeared out of the doorway behind him, looking frazzled. “They left behind a case of champagne. I don’t know how. The quiche is running low, and Darnell is feeling ill. What—”

“Send Darnell home. I’ll—” He let out a dissatisfied hum, glancing at Lily, then back at the server. His lips pulled into a frown. He swept a hand through his hair. “Sorry—”

Lily waved him off, though her spirits sank. “No, don’t be silly. Work calls. Feed the hungry. Go.”

He hesitated, his eyes skimming her. “Will you—we’re just catering the event tonight. Swotty and deadly dull, yeah? So you’ll probably skive as soon as you can.”

“No.” She didn’t have any reason to say it so firmly, so quickly. That was just the way it came out. “Work calls for me too. I’ll be here.”

“Yeah?” The frown righted slowly.

She couldn’t believe how ridiculous she was being. Maybe how ridiculous they were both being. She could be a serial killer, for all he knew. Did he not care for the health and safety of his own pretty little head?

Her plan had been to duck out of this conference opening mixer as soon as was physically possible. They were unbearable. That shouldn’t change.

“Yeah,” she said instead.

She was eleven years old, heart fluttering behind a tree. She was an idiot.

“Good.” His body turned, but he was still looking at her. He nodded and repeated, “Good.”

Lily lifted her hand. “Thanks for the hug. See you in thirteen years?”

He smiled. “Something like that.”

She watched his back as he turned through the doorway, stared at the familiar mop of hair until it disappeared around the next corner.

She pivoted on her heels slowly, feeling silly and prickly.

In her pocket, her phone vibrated. She pulled it out and absently glanced at the screen.

She laughed.

James Potter had requested to follow her on Instagram. And he sent her a message.

You didn’t grow up ugly either, Lily Evans, it read.

She was twenty-four years old, heart fluttering in the middle of a hotel.

She shook her head, and pressed ACCEPT.

#jily #bcdaily #drabble #hey hey hey I WROTE SOMETHING #Anonymous

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danses-with-dogmeat · 3 years

Note

Hey! You know they prompt with the m!companions waking up after spending the night with some and don’t find them in the bed? Could you do that with F!!companions too? No pressure! /gen

Female!FO4 Companions react to Waking Up Alone After Spending the Night with Sole.

Sooooo, thank you so much for asking for this, cuz I had written about half of it, and then totally forgotten about it until I got this ask, so you are awesome!

This is the second installment to this post (M!FO4 Companions with this prompt) and there will be a part with FO3 and FONV companions as well... eventually 😅

I hope you all enjoy! (And I sincerely apologize in advance for the ridiculous length of this thing [Cait's in particular], I don't know what happens, I think I have a problem. But I super appreciate all of you who stick around to read it all, each and every one of you have my heart.)

Cait:

A dull ache persisted in Cait's muscles when she stirred beneath the sheets, she scrunched her eyebrows together as her lids rose to reveal the still dark, still disheveled hotel room. What the hell happened last night? The question briefly flashed across her mind before she recalled it. Recalled everything. Cait groaned, stretching out over the mattress, fully prepared to reunite with her lover, to wake you up in the best of ways, to touch you and be with you the way she had been last night.

Fuck. Last night… How the hell had it taken the two of you so long to do that?

Damn trust issues. Can’t they just leave me alone? Look at the good that happens when ya just let me be.

Last night had been the first time you two had been together, the first time the two of you had been intimate, and open, and honest, and real. For the first time in… hell, as long as she could remember, Cait had been her authentic self. Untainted by the venom she had injected into her veins for so long, unaffected by the liquid crutch she frequently relied on to bar her from facing herself. Even her vast insecurities hadn’t been able to touch her amid the bliss of her night with you. Because you had been authentic too, you weren’t trying to impress her, or pressure her, you didn’t pass judgement on her level of experience, didn’t berate her for her roughness, for engaging in your intimate act the only way she knew how, the only way it had ever happened when someone else initiated it, as it had always been for her. She couldn’t understand it herself, the way you’d been so patient with her, had communicated with her through everything, focused on her comfort, and her pleasure… It was so foreign to her, so unfamiliar in comparison to every other person she had been with. The act she had engaged in so many times before almost felt… new.

“Alright, what do ya say, luv? You still sore, or d’ya want to give it another go?” She shifted abruptly, a wicked grin spreading across her face as she turned to your side of the bed, green eyes glittering with ill intent, before surprise washed over them. Crimson brows rose high over the wide emerald orbs and she felt her nostrils flare unwittingly at the sight of your distinct absence.

Instantly, she wished she hadn’t turned to try and look at you. Wished that she could’ve stayed facing away just a little longer, where she could safely revel in the bliss of your night together without any consequences. She could have gazed out over the ruined hotel room, could have blushed uncharacteristically as she relived last night’s… rearrangement of all the furniture in the room. Could have kept imagining you there beside her, just as sore and worn out, but just as ready to see where this would go next. Now though…

Cait at least had the courtesy to glance around the space surrounding her before making any quick judgements, but the room was a fucking small one, and it took all of a moment to see that she was truly alone in it. Not only that, but everything belonging to you was gone too.

Now this. This shit I remember. This is all too familiar.

Normally she would have been relieved to wake up alone. It always meant she could have some peace, that she could wake up on her own terms, without harassment or expectation, without prying hands roughly dragging her from her dreams and slamming her back down into her nightmarish reality. But with you… shit was different. Even more painful than waking up next to someone she feared and despised was waking up without you by her side. The truth was like a flaming brand being pressed mercilessly to her chest, making plain to herself and everyone around her that she was hurt. That you had hurt her. She never thought the day would come.

Cait had come to the realization last night that you might be the only person who’s put her before yourself, who’s done something kind for her, who’s helped her without expecting anything in return. She came to the realization that she trusted you. More than anyone else in her life, more than Tommy, more than her own damn parents; she thought you were the only person who would never hurt her. The fact that she had been wrong made her want to spit. To curse, and fight the darkness that began to claw its way back into her heart. The same darkness you had helped expel in that vault.

She shook her head vigorously. Red hair catching in her damp eyelashes as she ground her teeth together until they ached. She wanted to scream. But dammit, she wasn’t going to let anyone know that this shit bothered her. Wasn't going to let them pity her at the sight of the hot brand you'd left on her heart when she realized you were gone.

No, she wouldn’t scream, wouldn’t let anyone hear the sounds of anguish spilling from her lips. The walls of the hotel room were paper thin, as the two of you had discovered last night after some… complaints had been issued. But Vadim had been a good sport about it. Cait wished she could look back on the memory fondly, but the glow of her euphoria was tainted red and black. An infected wound festering deep in the pit of her stomach, the hollow of her chest, the recesses of her mind.

Cait tore the blankets from her body, the thin material sticking to her sweat-dampened skin as she clambered off the mattress and began to rage around the room, snatching bits of clothing from their places on the floor and furniture. She roughly jerked up her trousers and buttoned up her corset, the action proving to be difficult as her chest expanded with her ragged inhalations. Through her fury-fogged mind, she tried to come up with a plan. Where would she go now that she didn't have you? Surely you wouldn't return to her after this. You'd gotten what you wanted, apparently; and if she was honest, she'd rather never see your face again after you'd done this to her. Made her feel this way. Made her feel filthy, and angry, and foolish, and used. Cait released a verbal sound of disgust as she threw together the last of her things. Shouldering her pack, she prepared to leave the room. Sorry Yefim, I can't be in here another fucking second. You'll have to put the furniture back yourself.

Cait slammed the hotel room door behind her, brows set low, heart pounding audibly against her chest as she loitered in front of the door, thinking about where to go next. What to do next. She couldn’t return to the combat zone, what would Tommy think? What would he say? She didn’t much care, but she didn’t want to find out either. Without Sole, what the hell was there out there for her? A flash of her potential future crossed her consciousness and she briefly saw herself crammed into some seedy corner of a bar somewhere, offering her muscle in return for some meager bits of tin, which she’d more than likely use to buy herself yet another drink at the next dive she found herself in. A vicious cycle, free of ambition, free of fulfillment, free of enjoyment… and yet, that future was more than she had ever expected for herself just a few short months ago. Back then, she would’ve given her left arm for a chance at that life, because at least she would be free. But now… you had changed everything. Helped her get clean, helped her drag herself out of the chasm her parents had forced her to dig herself into from the moment she was old enough to hold a shovel. She had wanted more for her life since meeting you. Had expected more. By your side, she had had more. And now you’d torn that away from her too, and though she wanted with every raging fiber of her being to be able to prove to you, to everyone, that she didn’t need anyone’s help to achieve that sort of life, she knew that, with you gone, reverting back to her old ways was damn near inevitable. Her jaw clenched at the thought, and she bit back a growl at the pain spreading in her chest.

Fuck this. I need a drink.

She let her hand fall from the doorknob to the now empty hotel room and made her way to the liquor counter at the Dugout Inn. Her expression drove away any potential for conversation as she sat at her stool, knocking back her full glass of whiskey. Even Vadim had stayed quiet, his usual bawdy personality remained muted as he poured her another glass and set it on the counter in front of her.

Even the bittersweet taste of her own reckless self-enablement couldn't expel the burning poison that had settled in her gut since her discovery that you had left her alone. And although she didn't have a single fucking clue what she was going to do next, that didn't seem to be what bothered her, as the whiskey began to cloud her mind and her judgement. No, it wasn't what she was going to do, it was what you were going to do. Where would you go without her? Alright, fine, you'd had your way with her, used her for your pleasure and then ran, but where to? And why do I care so damn much? A small voice asked her in the back of her mind. She decided not to grace its inquiry with a conscious answer.

Instead, she rose from her stool, slammed down a handful of caps on the counter, and half expected Vadim to ask where the room payment was, but he just smiled as he slid his hand over the pile of tin and drew it closer to him, to stash it away behind the bar. It didn't matter that Cait had no idea where she was going, she just had to leave this place. The alcohol that was meant to distract her, to numb the throbbing ache in her chest, only seemed to enhance her pain as her over exaggerated emotions surrounding the night the two of you had shared came pouring to the front of her mind. She was pissed. But not at you anymore. Was it herself? Why would she be pissed at herself? It's not like it was her fault you decided to fucking leave… Or...

Cait shook her head vigorously, pausing at the exit into Diamond City as she tried to straighten her crooked thoughts. Was it something I did? Is that why you left? Was I… not good enough? Too good? Too rough? Too unemotional? God, she sounded so whiney and insecure. Felt so insecure, so vulnerable, so guilty, so filthy.

Still trapped in her troubling thoughts, Cait attempted to finally leave the inn, letting the door slam shut behind her as she set off brusquely towards the gate leading out to the Commonwealth. She hardly noticed the body trailing her, splitting off from the crowd in the city center, and following her at an aggressive pace akin to her own. When the hand grasped at her shoulder, she almost turned around swinging, prepared to knock the teeth out of whoever decided it was a decent idea to fucking touch her right now. But her fist stilled in its clenched position beside her body, as her forest eyes widened in surprise at the person standing in front of her.

You?

You…

You!

Instead of swinging her prepared fist directly into your face, she brought up both arms, shoving them forward harshly against your shoulders, forcing you a few feet backwards, likely bruising you in the process.

"Fuck off, Sole." Was all she could manage before she turned away, back towards the gate. What the hell was she supposed to make of this?! You were gone. But now you were here? It doesn't matter now, because you could never take back the way you made her feel when she woke up alone in that dingy fucking hotel room.

"Hey!" She heard you call from behind, but she pressed on, even as your footsteps echoed behind her.

"Cait, wait! Just hold on a second. Where are you going?" Even when words failed you, it seemed the stubbornness she admired so much prevailed, as you gruffly wrenched her to the side, pulling her into the alcove behind the Publick Occurrences building.

"I can explain."

Cait wrenched her arm from your grasp, attempting to turn away, her emerald eyes blazing as they refused to acknowledge you.

"Cait, please. I swear, I was coming right back. I wasn't going to just--" you tried to explain, but she silenced you with her searing look as her head lashed towards you once more.

"I thought I told you to fuck off. Ya can't justify this shite to me, Sole. I know what the hell you were playin’ at. You fucking used me, and if that's all ye kept me round for, then you can just leave me alone. Ye got what ye wanted, didn't ya?” Your mouth hung open as you waited to get a word in, but the redhead continued, a menacingly somber expression creasing the lines of her face, “At least the assholes that used me before did it because I was their slave. You actually had me thinkin' you cared about me.” She said quietly, her gaze falling to the floor as the weight of her realization fell upon her.

“Well, you can forget I was ever even here. I'm done." Her eyes snapped back to yours before she went to turn away from you once again.

You were rendered momentarily speechless by her accusations. You wondered how the hell she couldn't know how you felt about her, especially after last night. You thought you'd made it pretty damn clear.

You didn't speak, you needed to use action now, as she started towards the gate, you reached out your hand, grasping firmly at her upper arm and wrenching her towards you. Into you. And even as she tried to pull away, to tear herself from your firm grip, you pulled her in for a kiss. It was sloppy, your teeth clacked together painfully and your mind began to demand why you'd done it at all, but as you pulled away from it quickly, you knew why. As Cait recovered from the surprise contact, you finally managed to get a few words in.

"I do care about you." You told her, your forceful hold on her arm giving way to a more gentle, but still unyielding, touch. "I wasn't trying to leave you. I had to speak to Arturo about that mod I wanted to get for your shotgun, remember? He said we had to do it before he opened, but you were still asleep. I-- I didn't want to wake you. I was coming right back, Cait. I would never leave you, never use you like that. I'm not like them, I could never-- I just, God, do you really think I could do that to you?" Cait's eyes met your own, the emerald fires in their depths wavering to smoldering coals as she saw the hurt shining in your gaze. Your upturned brows, the concern etched into your features, your soft touch on her arm being pulled away slowly; Cait could see the pain in your every movement, the pain at her accusation, and the pain at realizing what little she thought of herself.

Even just a moment ago, her answer would have been different, but at the desperation in you eyes, your will for her to see the truth behind your words, she couldn't bring herself to say what her mind wanted her to. What, after so many years of abuse and horror and mistrust, it had defaulted to saying in the event that anyone could actually tell her they cared for her. Her mind wanted to deny your confession the same way it denied any kind words that were directed towards her, in order to protect her heart from another brutal beating, but this time, it was her heart that seemed to prevail.

"No." She said softly, "I guess I didn't think ye could do that to me. Can't ya see? That's what made it hurt so damn much. I never thought you'd do that shite to me. And then, when I woke up an you were gone, I just… It just didn’t make any fuckin’ sense." She brought a hand up to wipe at her face, maybe to hide the lower lip that began to tremble at her words.

Don’t fucking cry. Don’t you even think about it, ya damn baby. Cait tore her hand away, looking to you for some kind of response as she tried to harden her expression once more.

“I’m so sorry, Cait." You told her, taking one of her hands in your own to punctuate everything you had to say, "It’ll never happen again. I swear. I never want to hurt you ever again.”

The brawler felt a lightness in her chest at your words, words that she had never heard anyone say to her before, as you promised something so alien to her ears that she almost thought she had heard you wrong. She felt her heartbeat pick up as her eyes met yours again, the fire all but subdued as the weight of what you’d said sunk in. You promised to never hurt me... She didn’t know what to say, but she had to say something.

“Yeah? Well, it had better not happen again.” You grinned at that, releasing a breath of amusement and relief as Cait's own half-smile played at her lips. “Alright lassie/lad, care fer a drink? I think I might need another after all this.” She pulled her hand from your grasp and encircled your shoulders with her arm as she started off towards the Dugout Inn once again.

“Another?” You asked, brows raised, and the woman beside you just chuckled.

Curie:

Goose prickles peppered uncomfortably over Curie’s exposed skin as a chill ran through her body. Being cold was a sensation that she was still quite unused to; however, even from her limited experience, she had to say, she wasn’t a fan. Curie let out a soft whine as she shifted beneath the thin blanket that snaked around her body, reaching out one arm to slide over the mattress in search of you, and your warmth.

“Mon Dieu?” She ventured softly, eyes still half closed as she peered around the hills of fabric upon the mattress. Sitting up, Curie rubbed at her sleep-filled eyes, still groggy from her hours of rest. Yet another human tendency that I must become more accustomed to. Her hands dropped to her lap as she turned her head to either side, eyebrows creasing together in confusion at the realization that she was alone.

“Sole?” She called, her uncertainty making her voice higher than usual. Perhaps you have gone to relieve yourself, as humans often tend to do after sleeping... Curie stretched her arms upwards before gathering the covers around her, effectively cocooning herself atop your bed, and sat waiting for you to return. Her eyes moved slowly as she took in the room around her. She had hardly gotten a good look last night, and before this, she had never been here before. At least, had never been in your room, but from what she could see in the dim light, it was pretty similar to the others. Curie thought that she never would return to Vault 81, considering the amount of time she had spent here, she figured she had had her fill of the place, but when the radiation storm hit, and the vault was the closest shelter you could think of, she couldn’t argue with the logic of the two of you waiting out the storm here. And she was glad she hadn’t tried. If she had insisted on taking shelter elsewhere, who knows what would have happened? You could have developed radiation sickness, or encountered some form of hostilities, or been stuck wandering and searching for shelter elsewhere all night long! But you hadn’t, no, the two of you had instead done other things all night long.

Curie's spine tingled as she noticed her heart skip a beat in her chest, and she felt her eyes crinkle up as she grinned, clutching the bed sheets tightly in her hands at the thought of the night you two had shared. The way your soft, sweet lips had pressed to hers, giving way to a cacophony of glorious, and thrillingly unfamiliar sensations. She recalled a gentleness, a sort of calm before the storm; dipping her toe into a pool of water, before wading in up to her knees, only to delve straight into the swirling, tumbling sea without a second glance back to the shore.

She had wanted, more than anything, to experiment in such a way with you, but she had been so unsure with how to proceed. So, when you had pressed your lips to hers gently in the night, and whispered that you wanted to do with her what she had been dreaming of since she first laid her human eyes upon you, Curie could barely contain her enthusiasm. All she wanted now was to be close to you once more, to discuss all that she had learned last night. About herself, and about you; but not because she wished to document it. No, this was not for research purposes, as she had once thought it would be, for there was nothing clinical about what the two of you had done together. At least, not in Curie’s eyes. To her, it was much, much more than a science. It was a feeling. It was… more, something she couldn't quite put her finger on, but something that made her stomach drop and her heart leap in her chest. Is it… could it be what they call… love?

It felt like hours that Curie was sitting there on the bed, awaiting your return. The time was comparable to the near 200 years she had spent alone on the other side of this very same vault. The synth found herself feeling conflicted about a number of things in this instance. She wasn't sure how she felt about Vault 81 anymore. She thought she couldn't stand the place before; however, last night she wouldn't have wanted to be anywhere else in the world, but now, she couldn't wait to leave this place and go out to find you. She felt as though, if she stayed, she would be unable to leave once again, held here in this spot for another couple centuries; and maybe that wouldn't have been so bad if you were here with her, but… That was yet another item on her agenda of conflicting emotions to consider. Here Curie sat, completely alone, feeling as though she may be in love for the first and only time in her existence and you were just… gone. This was arguably the most important discovery she had ever made, and she wanted nothing more than for you to be here to help her make sense of this breakthrough of hers. Curie felt as though she had finally reached the level of inspiration required to achieve something great in the field of science, and it was all because of you. But she was still… confused? She couldn't imagine your reason for leaving, had she done something wrong? She had never done anything like this before, so it wouldn't be entirely surprising if she hadn't been particularly skilled in the acts of intimacy, but she certainly had felt good enough… had you not? Or perhaps this was customary for people to do after their first time being together in such a way? If that was the case, Curie would need an explanation as to why it had to be this way. Why you had to be gone when she felt she needed to be near you so urgently.

At that moment, Curie decided she needed to get out of this room, to look for you, yes, but also to prove to herself that she could, in fact, leave any time that she wished. To prove to herself that she wasn't going to be imprisoned here again. Curie sucked in a breath as she uncovered her bare body and exposed her skin to the chill of the recycled vault air. Quickly, she found her garments, some scattered on the floor, others wrapped in the mess of covers on the bed; and her theory regarding your disappearance was further confirmed as she found none of your own clothes in the places you had left them last night. She released a shaky breath, mumbling incoherently to herself as she often did in stressful situations, as she packed her bag in preparation to leave the vault. When she went to reach for the laser pistol that you had gifted her when she had become a synth, she noticed something that didn't quite add up. Your bag was still near the door… so perhaps, you hadn't left the vault after all? Curie's heart leaped in her chest, and in that next moment, she had dropped her travel bag, and was quickly moving towards the door that led out into the common area of the vault. As the doors slid to a close behind her, Curie's head whipped from side to side, aqua eyes passing over the monochrome hallways as she sought you out, searching for a 111 rather than an 81 among the sea of blue suits. Her eyes came to rest toward the elevator as she heard it grinding downwards, and she started towards it expectantly at the sound, before pausing abruptly when she heard her name being called from behind.

Her head swung back around to see you jogging towards her from the far end of the vault, a flush at your cheeks and a small smile decorating your sweet lips.

"And where are you running off to?” You said as you reached the synth, “You couldn't possibly leave me after--"

"Mon cheri! I was missing you this morning!" Curie's words echoed loudly off the steel walls surrounding the two of you as her excitement forced the words from her mouth at an unreasonable volume for your close proximity. Her relief at seeing you left her utterly unashamed at the blatant enthusiasm she had for your return. So much so, that she was even feeling bold enough to close the space between the two of you, her arms wrapping tightly around you as she buried her head in the crook of your neck, inhaling your comforting and familiar scent. You only just had time to return her embrace before she pulled away, her arms unraveling around your neck as she brought both hands up to caress your face. Her bright eyes seemed to glitter as they peered deeply into your own, her elated expression infectious as her thumbs stroked over your cheeks gently. Curie opened her mouth, as though she were about to speak, but when your gaze fell to rest upon her parted lips, she couldn't help but lean forward until she felt your mouth on her own. The kiss was sweet and soft, expelling Curie's chill as the contact warmed her from the inside out. As you pulled away slowly, still a little baffled by the sudden contact, you opened your eyes in time to notice her fluttering lashes and pink dusted cheekbones as a flustered grin spread onto her face.

"What timing you have, mon amour," she said, eyes still locked to yours, "I so urgently felt the need to speak to you, for I have just made zhe most brilliant discovery!"

Piper:

Piper had never had a dream like that before. It had felt so real. It left her flustered and out of breath as she stirred groggily among the blankets in the loft of her Diamond City home.

She could still feel the warmth of another's skin pressed against hers, taste the salt of sweat on her lips, feel the shuddering jolt of her pleasure shooting up her spine. It all felt so genuine, so memorable, it was as though… No. It couldn’t be… with you?

As Piper dipped into her post-slumber conscious reality, she felt a distinct soreness in her body that nearly confirmed her sub-conscious assumption. But she had to know for sure. Piper imagined she would have to wrench open her eyes in order to verify her prediction, but as she took a deep breath in through her nose, and your familiar scent, accompanied by the distinct musty smell that happened to permeate the room after such activities occurred made itself known, she couldn’t have kept her eyes closed if she had tried.

They flew open as an excited squeak escaped her, and she pulled the covers off from where they obstructed her needy hazel-green gaze.

“Blue?” She tried, speaking quietly, but unable to keep the elation from her voice. “Pssst, hey, you awake yet?” Her hands gathered up the blankets beside her, drawing them away from where she assumed they were covering your sleeping form. But they just kept coming, she pulled and pulled, gathering more fabric between her fingers, spilling the material up over her own body until the mattress was revealed. The empty mattress. She cocked an eyebrow at the sight, a question she silently posed to the barren space where you were meant to be. Where her subconscious and conscious self both had practically guaranteed you would be. Now, the reporter was confused.

Deciding that this was perhaps not the most ideal angle for exploration, she raised up into a sitting position, flattening her wild hair with one hand as the other kept the covers drawn up around her.

“Blue?” She questioned a little louder. Maybe you’re downstairs… fixing breakfast? It wouldn’t surprise her. You had always been thoughtful in that way, always seeming to look out for everyone but yourself. Damn that was sexy. Piper couldn’t remember the last person she had felt this way about. Maybe there wasn’t one. No, there really was no one like her Blue; you were the closest friend she’d ever had, you trusted her, you always believed her, believed in her, you spoke to her like a person, like a friend, like someone you genuinely cared about; not like a nosy little reporter, or a pain in your ass, which is how pretty much everyone else in the world decided she was supposed to be talked to. The more she thought about it, the more it became clear to her. There wasn’t anyone like you. It was literally just you, and the fact that you and her had been together in such a way last night? Unbelievable. Incredible, dreamlike, fantastic, and perfect, yes, but completely unbelievable. Wasn’t she too overbearing? Too loud? Too stubborn, and fiery, and hot-headed?

From the moment she met you, she thought you could only ever see her in a certain way, as the scrappy, over-emotional, noisy reporter who had gotten herself locked out of the damn gate to the damn place that she freaken lived in. You had helped her, sure, and that was amazing, but she thought you’d never want to see her again after the encounter. However, as it turns out, she had been wrong. Mercifully, she had been wrong. Piper had never imagined that you would take her up on her offer to interview you, but when Nat had pulled you through the door, a firm grip locked around your wrist as she dragged you forward, and you had smiled at her, and agreed enthusiastically to answer her questions, she couldn’t help but flash her own silly grin over at you, desperate to try and hold back the joyous little giggle that threatened to escape her lips.

Even now, still seated upon the bed, Piper smiled to herself as she poured over her memories with you. Everything was so vivid when you were around. Black and white, white and black, the occasional grey and off-white, that was all the reporter ever seemed to see in her life, but with you… everything was vibrant. The world wasn’t quite so corrupt and unforgiving, the people around her weren’t so dismissive, so closed off, even when the weather seemed too cold to bear, the light in your eyes would warm her from the inside out, the sky was never a muted tone when she was with you, it was always a bright cacophony of warm and cool colors that melded together to form a perfect blue. And the brilliance, the dizzying, lucid radiance of the night the two of you had shared had put all other colors she could possibly imagine to shame.

Her whole body suddenly felt so warm at the sentiment, and she couldn’t stand to be bundled in blankets any longer. She had been too busy wrapped up in her own memories to even register that you hadn’t responded to her calling for you, but she shrugged it off, assuming maybe that she simply hadn’t heard your response. Piper climbed out of bed, letting the covers fall unceremoniously onto the mattress as she quickly grabbed clean clothes from her dresser. She dressed rapidly, the voice in the back of her mind posing a question that her consciousness didn’t want to acknowledge. Instead, she thought about how funny it was that she felt so embarrassed about you potentially seeing her in the nude; since, surely, you had gotten quite the eyeful last night.

But it was dark then! She thought, nodding and chuckling to herself as she prepared to make her way downstairs. At the top, looking downward, Piper paused. Listening for any movement from below, she was almost tempted to call for you again. But something caused her to hesitate. It’s that voice again, the one that wanted to ask… No, I’m not going to think about that.

The reporter forced herself to take the first step, the wood creaking in protest below her feet as she descended to the first floor. The sound was almost like a warning to her, encouraging her to turn back the way she had come, cursing her for taking a step towards the potential disappointment that awaited her at the bottom of the stairs.

Piper tried to seem perky, but her enthusiasm was waning with every moment she spent away from you; and as she peered around the ground floor, she realized that that pesky little question she had tried to push away from her conscious self was finally answered. You were gone.

The woman’s heart sank. Her brain suddenly pelting her with question after question as to why you could have done this. When had you decided that she wasn’t what you wanted? Had she been so horrible that she completely reversed the feelings you told her you had for her? Had you never cared for her in the first place? Had you just lied to get her in bed with you? If that were the case, she wasn’t sure she ever wanted to see you again. No, she was sure it would just end in a shouting match and her potentially trying to tear your pretty eyes from your useless skull. So, she… couldn’t do that, no, people thought she was crazy enough as is. But she is a reporter… and this, what you did to her, the way you made her feel, the way you used her body and toyed with her emotions, that was a crime. She had written about crimes countless times, she could do it again... But would that even be enough to make her feel less... Angry? Hurt? Idiotic?

Argh, she was so furious! With herself, with the situation, with you, but now she wasn’t sure if what she thought was your reason for leaving was even the truth, maybe she was imagining it. What if you were out there somewhere feeling hurt like she was? Or, feeling unheard or, or neglected? She didn’t know why you would be feeling that way, but there’s always two sides to a story, and she had to think that you would have had an at least halfway decent explanation for your actions.

What about last night though? Didn’t you feel the same way she felt? She didn’t see how you could feel any differently.

She could only wonder at all of her rhetorical questions that were begging to be answered, but just not by her. Maybe if she found you and requested an interview again… Hmmm.

Piper didn’t know if it would work, didn’t know if she could even find you, if you would agree to an interview at all, but it was a plan, at least; and for her to know the truth of the situation, it was definitely worth a try.

The reporter thought up her questions as she gathered together her things, trying to come up with inquiries that didn’t seem too one-sided, or confrontational, or passive aggressive; but other thoughts kept interrupting her. At some point, she knew Nat would be home from her friend’s house, she should probably wash the sheets on her mattress, she hadn’t eaten anything yet, there was no food in the house, she still needed to proofread her next story, ugh! This was not what she needed today! You had always been so supportive of her, of the paper, of her taking care of Nat, of… just her in general, her as a person, as a reporter, as a friend, and traveling companion. You had been supportive last night, had let her be vulnerable, and confident in herself, and free of any judgement. You’d made her feel good about herself in a way she never had before. And yet, you fucking left. God, it made her crazy, because she just didn’t understand. It didn’t add up, all of the evidence, the important details at the front of her mind all pointed to a different sort of conclusion. One that ended with you in the dang bed next to her the morning after you had made her feel like she could write an epic poem detailing every blissful feeling you had elicited in her. And she didn’t even write poetry!

By the time her bag was packed, Piper’s stomach was growling, she was tired again, tired and hungry and angry and sad, and every negative base emotion a person could feel. But she forced herself up the couple of steps it took to get to the exit door, reaching out her hand for the doorknob, she prepared to go out and find you. To find you, and then question you.

In the next instance, the door was pushing her back down the stairs gruffly as it opened directly into her.

“Ow! Hey!” She said as she was thrown backwards by the impact. Piper gruffly reached up her hands, trying to adjust her hat back onto her head properly as the body in front of her moved through the door.

“Oh! I’m so sorry, Piper! Are you alright?”

Piper paused with her hands still over her head, and looked up quickly at the sound of your voice. At first, she thought it had been Nat who decided to beat her with her own door, but, as you stood in the doorway, an apologetic smile on your face, and a shopping bag in your hand, she couldn’t deny the fact that it really was you who had just barged into her.

You didn’t leave. You weren’t gone. She thought giddily, impulsively throwing her arms around your shoulders in her relief. For just a moment, her questions and anger could wait.

“Aw, Piper, I wasn’t gone that long. But I missed you too.” you giggled at her, drawing your own encumbered arms around her to reciprocate to the best of your abilities, “And I’m glad you forgive me for the concussion I just gave you.”

“Where were you?” Piper asked, almost aggressively as she pulled away, still standing close enough to keep you trapped between her and the door.

“I just had to grab some supplies from the mark--”

“And you couldn’t wait until I woke up? Do you know the kind of state you had me in this morning?! Geeze, Blue, you really are clueless sometimes, huh?”

“No! I’m sorry I was gone, but I… Here, I brought home some breakfast. I wanted to surprise you.”

You held up the bag in your hand, showcasing the clear outline of soup containers and the distinct mark of Takahashi.

“O--oh, well, that was… um, that was really nice of you, Blue. I…”

You just smiled at her and her apologetic expression, beginning your descent past Piper and down the couple of stairs towards the couch where the two of you could enjoy your breakfast.

“It’s okay Piper. I’m sorry too.” You said looking back at her as you placed the bag down on the coffee table. And your companion just grinned.

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gaymershigh · 3 years

Note

hello! can I request a hc of the dorm leaders where their s/o kiss them for the first time and run away because they're embarassed/shy? I hope I follow your rules, thank you!

Of course! This might be shorter since I'm going straight to the their reaction because that's all I can think of (Ｔ▽Ｔ) I've finally gained all my energy to do a 5+ character's request but after this I'm gonna go back to focusing 5 or below character request-

Triggers: Vil being RIDICULOUSLY ooc :')

Dorm leaders reacting to their very shy gn! s/o kissing them for the first time and running away

It's obvious you two never kissed before as both parties are too embarrassed to initiate it first. As much as Riddle wanted to give you a smooch to show his affection, he just couldn't as you might not be comfortable about kissing and the only thing he has kissed before was his pillow. He was just too shy and inexperienced to kiss you first as he doesn't want to mess up the magic moment.

When you kissed him and ran away, he was absolutely still as he had no time to process what had just happened. Slowly, his face gets redder as more minutes of him staying still passes. People passed and tried to walk faster as they mistook him getting angrier by the second but in reality, he's just so happy and all blushed at the fact you stole his first kiss when you're the super shy one in the relationship.

He's unsure what to do next, should he chase after you and return the kiss like in that one book that he read in the library out of boredom or wait until you come back as you might also want time to process what you just did as well. He went for the first choice as leaving you hanging at the edge of your seat waiting for his next move is such an improper thing for the Heartslaybyul dorm leader.

He was nervous when you were sitting on a bench at the courtyard, all alone and looking quite antsy. He cleared his throat to approach you directly as walking from behind isn't such a good idea. It was rather for a few seconds as he suddenly forgot what his lines were the moment you two locked eyes. He quickly apologized for the sudden silence as he sat next to you, holding your hand.

"(Y/N), I apologize for not kissing after a long time of dating until you had to initiate it first. Oh, that's not the case? I see but I still feel terrible for not planting a single kiss on your lips before, should I do one now?"

There's no way in hell you two never kissed because if there's no kiss until at least a week after being together, that's not Leona you're dating. He craves the feeling of being loved or having someone to love. Not only that, you being more shy and submissive gives him power and pride, you're his treasure and wants to treat you as one. He doesn't mind that you don't return the kiss back as he's very understanding of how shy you are but of course he teased you about it, hopefully you don't misunderstood him pressuring you to return the favor or something.

When you kissed him for the first time, he was shocked. You actually had the guts to do that!? He knows that one day you will (hopefully) break out of that shell of yours and return the favour but he didn't that scenario that plays on in his head sometimes really coming to life. He managed to recover from the sudden shock and smirked at the thought. You finally did it, you should get a reward by an instant, no? Who cares if you scurried away immediately after you did that, you got him off guard, you deserve a prize.

He was so lost in his own cloud of thought that he almost forgot that you ran away. Unlike the others, he will be like always, lazily going after you by picking up where your lovable scent is. Even had the audacity to yawn halfway walking there while you could be having a breakdown after what you just did. He got sudden thoughts of you freaking out and laughed at himself of how cute that mental mental is, this guy really is something.

When he found you at the botanical garden sitting on the floor, he had no single hesitancy to just call out your name and approach you calmly like your sudden move earlier was just a fever dream. He picked you up from the floor for you to stand up as he cupped your cheek, staring at your eyes with an entertained face.

"You finally got some bravery, Herbivore. You took me by surprise just a little bit and I suppose I'm proud. Now, don't you think you should get a reward?"

Just like Riddle, he's very inexperienced when it comes to love or just having a nice relationship with others besides the Leech twins in general. He would prefer if you kissed first as he's insecure about initiating it first because when it comes to first kisses, aren't they like, very important? Well in his view it is as for what he has read, a first kiss is like an amazing experience that you will only experience once in a lifetime and never again no matter what species you are, it's magical.

And he finally understood what it really meant when you pecked his lips. No matter if it's a full kiss or just a normal quick peck before your sudden flee, it still feels phenomenal. He's very shocked and is aware you're going further away from him but he just didn't do anything. He was just staring at you as you were getting farther and farther as he brushed his lips. Of course, he forces himself to regain his composure as he didn't want to be seen as a foolish lovestruck person in this prestigious campus.

The twins saw what just happened and they were teasing him mad. They can tell that neither of you kissed before until that little performance as his reaction is something a "person who never gets kissed" would do. Since they're in public, he held a lot more power on them and scolded the two for this childish rambling and told them to go back to their work. He knew he had to chase after you, even if he's happy you did the first move, he still felt wrong for making you do it because of his insecurities.

When he found you, he was contemplating whether to go back to his place and leave you alone or not because of how you looked at the moment. You were walking back and forth while looking down, probably having a crisis for doing something so brave out of the blue. He had to drag you somewhere more private as he was aware his face was getting redder again. Even if his words sounded relaxed, you can tell his heart was racing as well.

"Honey, I apologize for making you kiss me first, I really wanted to kiss you as well but I wasn't sure if you were uncomfortable or not. You..you just wanted to kiss me? Because you love me so much?..Really? Ah. I- I see. Very well then, since we're in a more private place, should I…do the same to return my feelings?"

Kalim has kissed you in a lot of places but it was never at the mouth and he never explained why. Maybe he just didn't want to kiss you in the mouth because it's too early in the relationship but then again, it's Kalim, would that really matter to him? He has already kissed your cheek the third day of your relationship so you doubt he really cares about boundaries that much. Well, he wanted to kiss you on the lips badly but Jamil had told him before that the first kiss isn't something so minor like any other kisses he gave to you. It's a more memorable part of the relationship so he should be careful and surprisingly, he obliged to his words, not fully understanding.

But he finally understood them almost completely when you leaned in for the kiss. He was shocked and his heart was fluttering no matter how fast the kiss was. Jamil was right, it was very magical and a memorable moment, it's like one of those fairy tales, he happily thought to himself. Though, he pouted at the fact that it was just a small kiss and his neck kisses lasted longer than that. He actually didn't have a tangent and told you to wait a minute but you probably didn't hear it as you were already away from him.

He took longer than everyone else when it comes to catching up with you as he completely forgot where you head off to due to his lack of capability to remember a lot of things at the same time but it doesn't matter as he tried his hardest to follow you by the help of random students and such just sudden remembrance. He was calling out your name but he didn't hear any response, something told him that you didn't want to talk and avoiding him so calling won't help. Even if you want some alone time, he wants to see you as much as possible because he loves you that much.

When he found you, he practically ran and flung himself into your arms, giggling like a child that got a big toy as a birthday present and a child that got some sweets combined. He was throwing dozens of compliments of how brave you are for kissing him first and how happy he is if it wasn't so obvious. Now that you finally kissed him on the lips he can now do the same anytime he wants, right!?

"Ya qamar! You did it, you finally kissed me! On the lips too! Why did you run away from me earlier, you did a good job! Can I kiss you back now? Can I?"

Vil has mostly kissed you a lot since he's very experienced with it but it's not as much as we thought it would be. He of course only kisses you in private areas as he doesn't want to spark any type of controversy even if he didn't keep your relationship hidden from the media, which he did as his fans and the mainstream media in general were probably not ready yet for the shock. He gets a little bit upset that you haven't returned any of the favor but won't talk to you about it as he thinks that you're insecure about getting caught or something similar to that.

That's why he was so bugged eyed when you kissed his luscious lips. He looked at you with so much sparkles, his affections were finally returned after so long and he doesn't even mind that you flee right after. He slowly and meekly mumbled out your name as he watched you scurry off into the distance. He had a bunch of relationships before and they only have returned his compliments, not his physical love. He felt like crying right there on the spot but didn't for the sake of his reputation even though nobody is there to see.

He called for Rook's to find your whereabouts as he knew what Rook is capable of. Rook obliged with full passion as he ran and found you as fast as an arrow. As he wanted to run, it's very improper for the Pomefiore dorm leader to do so the best he could've done is speed walk. Thankfully, nobody is foolish enough to not leave a walkway as they saw him in a hurry. He was eager to see you despite his straight expression.

When he found you, he called out your name in the usual but still loving tone as what he usually does as he always pours his feelings on you. He puts one of his hands on your shoulder and the other to lift your chin to see his face. His expression screams "I love you" and his tone was incredibly soft-spoken. If any passerby sees this, they're lucky enough to see this rare expression and not get caught as all his attention was on you.

"Darling, I know this is unsuitable for me to act like this while in public areas but I couldn't help but feel very happy when you finally kissed me on the lips. I'm sure you love me but you doing that makes me no longer need to doubt your feelings for me. Now, let's go somewhere more private. I want to pour my feelings on you as well."

If you expect Idia to kiss or even know how to kiss, you're weird. The only things he had ever kissed in his life are his bodypillows, plushies, figures, posters and even embarrassingly his own computer screen when his favorite character said something very nice to him. He doesn't even blame you that you have never kissed him at all because 1)He's a loser 2)Who on Twisted Wonderland in their right mind would kiss this guy out of everyone else?! Both you and Eliza apparently but come on. Yeah, he's aware that you two are in a relationship but please, he can't even smile without scaring the children how would a kiss be better?

When you kiss him, his eyes were so shocked and he did that pose where he puts his clenched fists to his chest in fear and shock. My guy took around 10 minutes to process this and it's not even himself who got him back to reality, it was Cater and Kalim. When his cloud of thought disappeared and looked at the two of them very slowly, he sprinted out of there just like you did but to his room. He shut his door tight and hopped on his bed, covering and screaming in the pillows.

Ortho, who is very concerned as to why his brother is having a spasm on his bed, kept scanning Idia and asking what's wrong. Idia trusts his little brother and spoke to him the entire situation and doesn't know whether to chase you as seeing you again after that is just embarrassing and he doesn't know what to do nor say! The robot kept convincing him to chase you but knowing Idia, once Idia made his mind, it will be almost impossible to change it no matter who you are.

Ortho took this into his own hands and tried to follow you without his brother's knowledge but he knew he wouldn't mind. When he found you, he apologized for his brother not attending and he had to be the replacement.

"(Y/N)! I'm sorry that big brother couldn't make it but I'm just telling you so that you wouldn't get the wrong idea. He likes it but is just too shy to confront you! Follow me, you should come see him in his room!"

Malleus has placed his kisses on you multiple times before but just like Vil, nobody knows about this except the Diasomnia dorm. Nobody is foolish or unloyal to the great Malleus and he knows that so he shouldn't be doubting about telling them about this valuable information. He keeps this lowkey because he knows how much fairies look down on humans, especially non magical ones. Even if you have magic or not, human or a beast, it's still risky if you're telling your relationship if you're from a noble family so he understands why you don't kiss back, just ignore his pouts.

When you do kiss him, his eyes went wide but not for that long, he's not that experienced in feeling loved romantically but he's not gonna die from that kiss. He smirked and chuckled in amusement, you're so brave. Even if you're his lover and just ran away, he still finds it interesting as his past lovers were too scared to hug him first. He shook his head at the sight of you trying to run away.

There's no point in running as you bumped into him while you're running to God knows where. He teleported to your whereabouts, how does he know your exact location you ask? Who knows, probably some fae stuff but that's not the point. He took you into a very secluded area. The forest, to be exact and at the very deep parts too. He stopped and looked at you with an amused expression.

"You kissed and your next move was to run away? Hahah! You're very funny, dear. You must be wondering as to why I'm taking you to these dark parts of the woods but fear not, as I'm not going to punish you or anything of the sort. Instead, I'm going to give you a kiss as well and we have no need to worry about getting caught into the act."

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pseudofaux · 3 years

Note

Thank you for opening up requests! May I please request a drabble that features Harr with a breeding kink?

screams a totally, completely normal amount 🗣 YESSSSSSSS!!!

You may, you may, I totally smiled when I saw this one. Thank you! I can tell this is going to be passionate but soft and tender and he’s probably a little conflicted about the whole thing, because he’s Harr. I’m excited! I really hope you will enjoy this.

(Requests are open through May 1!)

“I just...” He’s shaking his head slowly, like he is trying to dislodge a thought. “I want to... make... magic with you,” he says, frustrated with the way he bumbles his own meaning. He looks down at the shabby settee and resolves to tidy up as soon as they are through this conversation. If it will even be a conversation.

“Harr, you do,” she tells him sweetly. She is always ready to come to his defense, especially against himself. She touches his cheek and he knows she is trying to catch his eyes so the sureness of her smile reaches him. He has no doubt she means every word. No wonder he’s consumed with wanting her the way he does.

“No,” he says, and then when he sees her face fall he clarifies immediately “No— I don’t mean at you. No. I’m not being clear.”

She slides her hand into his and he squeezes on reflex, their five squeezes: I-love-you-al-ways. A different kind of spell that takes nothing and gives so much. “What do you mean, then?” she asks kindly.

His face is hot, but they are alone and she deserves his bravery. She has been so brave for him. Even as he commits to telling her, he finds he doesn’t have the words, which feels ridiculous— how can he ask this of her if he is so squeamish? But the desire snakes around him, vines of pleasurable imaginings wrapping over his mind’s eye, and he jabs his hand forward between them because he must move or his lust will choke him. He is careful to gentle the way his palm touches her belly, and very careful with the tingles of magic floating beyond his hand. He suppresses a groan, just imagining her full, of a child, of him before the child forms, of trust for him before they even begin.

“This,” he says carefully, looking her right in the face as she deserves. “I want this.”

Her recognition shows itself in wide open eyes and a quiet gasp. The smile that follows has all the perfection of a single apple blossom on a May branch, fresh beauty gracing the world without regard for what is deserved by lustful wizards. She is that glorious, that good. When she says “Oh... me, too, silly, was that what all this is about?”, he does not suppress his groan and he does not keep his mouth from hers.

Harr dared, in his wildest dreams, to think that if she were amenable to his fantasy they would prepare and then come together in the night, but after they kissed one another dizzy on the perfectly fine (lovely, actually) settee she pulled him to their bedroom, and he was, as usual, powerless against her. He long ago made his peace with that. He can see her better by midmorning light, anyway.

It is a frantic tangle of kisses and fabric just inside the door to their room. Everything has to come off, off. Now. If he is not against the skin of her legs in the next minute he will die before he can ever attempt to... Ah, his face is hot all over again, but his intent is stronger than his embarrassment.

“I’m going to take you to bed,” he says onto her mouth. The words feel like they are plodding out of him but he has to say them, has to tell her as best he can. “And I am going to make us both happy.” It is a solemn promise. Something to bind him up before he gets any further out of control. He wants to follow where his lust leads them, but not at the expense of her happiness.

She slows down and smiles. “I know,” she says simply. “Go right ahead.”

Her chemise is still on, but he scoops her up and places her on the bed anyway. It’s important to keep one’s word. “Off,” he says. “Please. Get rid of it. I want to see you.”

She hums and shimmies it up and off, but puts a hand on his chest, naked as hers is now, and the rest of him goes still immediately. “Harr,” she says. “I’m not going to run away. This is what I want, too. We don’t have to rush. And...” she swallows as if to fortify herself, “We can... umm. We can do this as many times as we’d like,” she whispers.

The way she is so conspiratorial about this inflames him and comforts him at the same time. No wonder he wants her. No wonder he’s been unable to deny this urge.

Yes, something-- it’s him, this is all him, as uncouth as it is-- hisses in his head. This. If you love her you need to fill her up, need to pump her full until there is no empty space and it bubbles out around you while you push the rest in. You need to fuck her, Silver, and put a baby in her so her tummy goes soft and tight, out and round, full. Full. Fullfullfullfull—

He leans over her on their comfortable, homey bed, and kisses her again while he shucks off his trousers. Already is he hard, probably a mess, hanging between his legs and aiming where he wants to go. A tight, wonderful curl of pleasure squeezes his belly so hard he shudders. Definitely a mess, he can feel the way a drip falls from him, seeking a fertile place to land.

“I’m ready, really,” she breathes between kisses. “I want it, too, Harr, won’t you please try?”

He wants to listen to her, but he knows what it is to be at the mercy of overwhelming need, and how foolish that can make a person. He traces a hand down her full, lovely cheek; her throat; the graceful bump of her collarbone; the swell of her breast. Put a baby there, a smokey voice whispers as he rubs her nipple in a circle the way she likes, but first you have to put it inside. He trails lower, drumming gently over her ribs, continuing the movement to tickle her and make her smile again. He curves out with her body to cup her beautiful hip, then comes back to her midline to find that yes, her body is plenty ready. Midlines are important in magic and hers is the most important one in the world.

He gives her one more quick kiss and presses his cheek to hers, then sits back on his knees to be able to see.

Her fingers part her folds for him, shy but sure. “I love you always,” he whispers as he watches. A spell that takes something but gives much more. When he glances up at her face, her grin makes him feel like he has, for once, said exactly the right thing.

And then it’s another frenzy and she is gasping, laughing, moaning his name. That’s perfect. Keep her happy and come in her, change her, change you both. He loves her, so he is careful to keep her in mind despite how the fit of her body empties him of most rational thought. He wants it to empty him of something else.

What thoughts he has left seem to subsume the rational ones anyway. He knows he is speaking the words and does not even feel embarrassed when he pushes her legs to her chest, slams his hips to hers with a deliberate angle, and says, clear as day, “Get. Pregnant.”

Her shuddery breath—it leaves her mouth open— and the way her eyes shine with need show him what he needs to do.

“Did you hear me?” he asks gently, slowing down to something more like their usual pace, warm and slow. The magic of summer. “I want you full, Alice,” he tells her, sliding his hands down the backs of her thighs and then right back up. Her eyelashes are fluttering and she is fluttering around him, too.

“Is this something you like?” he asks, and because this is a situation removed from everyday life he doesn’t feel bad for asking a question he knows the answer to. Her tight nod is very gratifying, just the same. “Tell me what you like about it,” he says, trying to tease and feeling like he misses the mark a bit... But that’s alright, he feels so much calmer now, still well in the grip of the desire to make her a mother but also stable in the thought that it is ahead of them.

She stutters over the word “Everything,” and it makes him smile so wide he has to hide it in her shoulder. She must be able to feel the heat of his face, but she can’t see him, so he feels emboldened to say “More, then?” as he hits her particularly close and deep. He thinks maybe he can feel the entrance to her womb and he groans so loudly into her skin he would miss her answer if it were anything less than what she gives: a throaty, desperate assent, and a squeeze of his back.

He wants to splash all over her, her womb, her entire sex, her entire being.

He gathers her so close to him it feels like their bodies will fuse and create something entirely new, the way the deep parts of the earth collide and become truthful stones and sought-after gems. She is clinging to him just as tight as he is pressing into her, and her little sigh of his name, passionate and gliding on the crescent of tension and bliss, tips him over. The first spurt feels more like a loosening, it flies out of him so fast. He concentrates better on the ones that follow, purposeful and direct. Take, he thinks, take root. The satisfaction sends pins and needles down from his back to his ankles.

His cry is hoarse in his throat and it feels thick, like something is leaving his body with the air. Maybe it is this mania. He’s not sure if he will miss it or not. He sits back on his knees again and puts his hand over her breast so his fingertips touch her heartbeat before he watches his last few thrusts, coated in white like livery.

They do nothing but this for the rest of the day.

#ikerev fanfiction #ikerev fanfic #ikerev harr #harr silver #I’m just. all a-melt for him!#pseu slings #I'm not 100% sure this works but I had to get the man to the kink somehow #full disclosure: the first time I read 'get pregnant' in a doujin istg i nearly did

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lihikainanea · 3 years

Note

This is a long angsty thought I had so I apologize: Bill and Tiger on vacation with friends and this is the first one with a few new editions to the group. Tiger gets along with all of them, but one night the girl reveals she wants to get with Bill. While Tiger gets a flare of jealousy, the calming waves and shining moon makes her feel a little more vulnerable than normal. She plays it cool, but she can’t help noticing how this girl is nice, she’s a solid friend from what Tiger can tell. She bottles up her emotions from the conversation, going straight to bed without texting or visiting Bill’s room. He’s slightly worried, of course, but just figured she got wasted. She had given him a key to her room so he walked in late to get some lovin, but she’s asleep. He sees the tears on her face, still wet and he knows somethings wrong. She wakes up from his stare and she loses it. He tries being stern with her, but he knew it was really bad when that didn’t work. She sadly tells him and he doesn’t say it’s dumb or that she’s overthinking. He just kisses her, plain stupid, grabbing her face and pulling her onto him. “Every time I look at you, kid. Every single time I look for you specifically and that won’t change.” He says, the warmth in her chest makes her head spin, and she smiles which he returns. “Plus, she spent the night with another guy hear yesterday, she was probably just a little vacation lovesick, just like another girl I know” He says, pinching her bottom. (Okay I’m done, but when she feels up to it he definitely fucks her so good she’s speechless and has to keep repeating that she’s his.)

Ohhhh sweet nani, the thoughts you have given me.

Thank you.

I love it when tiger just kind of gets all up in her head about this thing she has going with Bill, because goddamn if that ain't relatable eh? My friends and I talk about this a lot, about the differences in the way men and women approach dating or hell, even hitting on someone. And we have come to one main conclusion: men will almost always approach and hit on someone WAY the fuck out of their league, and women seldom will.

I don't know about ya'll, but when I see an insanely attractive guy I just like...shut down. I stare at my feet. I mumble. I blush. I want the ground to open up and swallow me whole--and the last thing on my mind is "yo, I'mma hit on this tall drink of water." Like, I would literally rather pull my own teeth out than hit on a guy that is so ridiculously attractive and so COMPLETELY OUT OF MY LEAGUE.

But dudes? Dudes will see a solid 10 walking down the street and think "Thank god I'm a fucking 14 because that bish is mine." It's actually incredible. Like, it's a scientific phenomenon.

For all the confidence that us women lack, the wrong men seem to have absorbed it all by fucking osmosis.

Fascinating.

ANYWAY. I'll bet tiger feels like that a lot. Bill is just...he's so much, you know? On the surface level there's his insane good looks, his height, the fact that he's a rich motherfucker, and he's famous. All of that weighs on tiger's mind, yes, but then she's even worse off because she knows what's underneath too. A kind, gentle mammoth of a man, the most empathic person she has ever met, someone who is incredibly sensitive and who takes such good care of her, worries over her, tries every day to make her happy. And tiger just...tiger will never understand how she got so lucky.

But then alright, it's time for another friend vacation and this time there are a few new additions. People try not to make a big deal out of it but somehow there always is just a slight check in with Bill--nobody does it outright because god Bill would be mortified and so would everyone else, but there is definitely a few mentions of new people joining the vacation and it gives Bill a chance to back out if he's not comfortable with the idea.

And maybe tiger really does genuinely hit it off with one of the girls. She's a real firecracker, and the exact type of person that tiger respects. She's funny, she's pretty as all hell, she's not afraid to make a bit of a fool of herself to make everyone laugh. This girl eats like a trucker and swears like a sailor, and tiger thinks she's good people. So much so that one night maybe the boys go off and do their own thing, macho bonding or some shit, and tiger and this girl grab some drinks and have some good girl bonding time.

But then it happens. A few drinks in, it happens. And this girl absolutely isn't trying any in vino veritas bullshit, this is really just the first opportunity she's had to drill a little deeper.

"So what's his deal?" she asks. Tiger blinks, sips her drink.

"Who's deal?" she replies. But tiger knows exactly who.

"Bill," she says, "Is he single?"

"Oh, uh," tiger knocks back another big sip of her drink, "...Yeah. Yeah he's single."

Because what is she supposed to say? No, he's taken? Then that would lead to questions about why he's on this vacation alone.

The girl gets a devious smirk, steeples her fingers together--and tiger just wants to hit something, because goddamn this girl is cute. Adorable, even. And when she gives a little whoop and a dorky fistpump, tiger feels her stomach drop to the floor--not because she's after Bill, no no, even worse--because she's actually just so perfect for him.

"Diiiiiiibs," the girl says, "Man I've been eyeing that tall drink of water all trip."

"Ha, yeah," tiger stammers awkwardly and downs the rest of her drink, "He's a handsome one."

"Are you cool with it?" the girl asks, and actually places a concerned hand on tiger's knee, "I don't want to...come between anything. If there is anything." Dis bitch is cute as a button and kind. Fuck.

Tiger gives a casual shrug.

"Why wouldn't I be cool with it?" she says, "I....don't have any claim to him."

"Would it be weird for you?"

"Go for it," she mumbles.

And tiger wants to tell this girl to back off, that Bill is claimed, and that Bill is being claimed every goddamn night of this vacation to the point where his back jammed on him again and tiger had to ice it down this morning. But she can't say any of that--and in true tiger fashion, she just gets a little sad about it. Anger and ferocious defensiveness for Bill would be her first reaction if this girl was a real fucking idiot, but god she's just....she's so nice.

"Okay, okay okay okay," the girl smoothes her hair down, starts to look real serious, "Help a bitch out. What should I do?"

And poor tiger, tiger has to sit there the whole night while this girl actually schemes to get her claws into Bill. And tiger is almost forced to help.

She retreats back to her own room that night, nauseated, sad, and with raw emotions bubbling to the surface. And bless your heart sweet nani, bless your heart for knowing mine so well--because the shining moon absolutely gets to her, the call of the crashing waves. Tiger sits out on her balcony for a bit but she just cries. Just lets it all overwhelm her, lets herself feel every emotion she tried to reel in that night as she helped give a girl tips on how to get Bill. And when she's too exhausted, when it's all just too much--she goes to bed. She misses the text messages from Bill--doesn't even look at her phone, actually. Just curls up in Sad Girl form, all balled in on herself, and falls asleep.

And Bill thinks it's pretty strange that she's not responding, and it's even more strange that she didn't let herself into his room which they had agreed would be their place of rendezvous that night. So instead, he does a quick check of the hallways and then Pink Panther's his lanky ass against the wall before deftly swiping his key card in her door and opening it.

And that's exactly how he finds her, cheeks still wet, her own thumb in her mouth, all curled in on herself. Concerned, he traces a gentle finger down her cheek and she stirs.

"Tiger," he crouches down to be eye level with her, "What's wrong?"

She blinks sleepily, bristles a little, and swipes at her cheeks.

"Nothing," she croaks. Her throat is dry from crying, and she winces.

He doesn't say anything. Just brushes his thumbs across her cheeks, keeping her face in his hands.

"Tiger," he says sternly, "We have rules."

"Yellow," she says immediately, "I don't...I don't want--"

"Okay," he soothes, running his hands up her arms, "We won't. But tiger, can you tell me what's wrong?"

"Bill, it's nothing. Let's just go to sleep."

But like, she's cracking. There are fresh tears rolling down her cheeks now, and Bill knows she needs to let something out.

"It's me kid," he says softly, "You can tell me anything."

And like, tiger cracks. It opens the floodgates. She tells him everything--the entire conversation, every little detail of it. When she works herself up too much at some points, when he starts to hear a wheeze in her breath, he puts a steadying hand on her knee to help ground her. But she lets it all out--every detail, everything this girl said about him, everything tiger told her. She's full on crying again by the end, but Bill just listens. He listens, and he waits.

And you know what I love here, nani? God it's so important. Bill doesn't tell her she's nuts. Doesn't tell her she's foolish for ever thinking he wanted anyone but her. Because that's not what will get through to her. Instead, just like he always does--he loves her and reassures her in the way that she needs, in the way that she can recognize in that moment.

He waits as she pauses, waits to see if she'll continue, but she doesn't.

"Are you done?" he asks quietly. She nods.

"Can I say something now?" he ducks to catch her gaze, and she nods again. He pulls her into his lap.

"Tiger, it's you," he says simply, "It's you kid. Only, and always."

She sniffles, and he kisses her nose.

"Everybody else can try as much as they want. They can give it their best shot. It won't matter," he continues, "It's you, kid."

Ugh, my fucking heart. It gives her the reassurance that she needs. And listen, over the next few days, Bill finds little ways to reinforce that. Maybe this girl does take a shot at him--and he politely, gently shoots her down. Maybe when tiger is feeling ready for it, man he gives it to her so good that she has to stay in bed the next day, because she's walking funny. It's his secret glances, his small winks, his hand on her knee under the table, rising just a liiiiiiiittle high under the safety of the dark night club.

It's everything she needs, in the way that she needs it.

this ask was a gift nani, thank you.

#bill skarsgard #bill skarsgard drabble #BFF!Bill #vacation bill

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

Text

Unfettered (aka NHS goes feral) - part 3 - previous parts: on ao3 or tumblr pt 1, pt 2

Lan Xichen had the strangest feeling that something was going to happen.

He wouldn’t pretend that he had a touch of foresight – life had shown him the hard way how completely he lacked any sorts of skill in that direction– and there was nothing altogether unusual about anything that had happened in the past few days of the war. Lan Xichen was helping with so much more now than he had during the Sunshot Campaign, when he’d been able to be a little above it all as a mere courtier or a single but powerful scouting force, thanks in large part to his sect’s then-existing weakness and Nie Mingjue’s utter brilliance. Nowadays he had to deal with the endless drudgery of war administration: the clean-up before and after battles, the mechanics of feeding and supplying all the cultivators in their front lines, planning their next move and the next after that…

Nie Huaisang had received a message and stormed out, looking annoyed, but that wasn’t new, either.

There were many demands on his time, after all. Nie Huaisang might not have much experience at war on a personal basis, having largely (and willingly) been sidelined during the Sunshot Campaign, but he was a sharp study and an excellent judge of people. He managed their generals – selected for merit without any attention to what sect they were from, if any – with an iron fist that rivaled his control over his own disciples, and on top of the war there was also his extensive network of spies, his constant scrutiny of their supply lines, his supervision of internecine disputes between the sects…

The divisions between us will be the first place Jin Guangshan strikes, he had said – snarled, rather – at the last meeting between sect leaders, taking to task men twice his age without so much as the blink of an eye. I want this petty bullshit between you resolved, now, and I don’t care how many generations you’ve been fighting over it. If you don’t fix it, I’ll fix it for you, and I assure you that neither of you want that.

They’d resolved it.

After all, Nie Huaisang was right: no one wanted him to step in.

It was a little ironic, Lan Xichen thought. The entire war had started because of Jin Guangshan’s lust for power, his desire to be called Chief Cultivator – a term Nie Huaisang denounced, as Nie Mingjue had before him – and now it was Nie Huaisang to whom the cultivation world deferred without question.

People were afraid of him.

It still seemed a little ridiculous to Lan Xichen, as if at any moment someone would step in and say that it was all a joke that they’d all been taken in by. That Nie Huaisang was still the excitable little roly-poly puppy he’d always been, Lan Xichen’s good friend’s little brother: stubborn and cute and smarter than he pretended to be, interested in nothing but his art and his fans and his clothing, lazy and indolent and unabashedly happy in a way that had brightened Lan Xichen’s day to see, every time.

He wasn’t, though. And it was Lan Xichen that had helped make him into what he was now.

During his travels, he’d heard cultivators in the field referring to Nie Huaisang as the Pallbearer, obliquely calling him the virtuous mourner as if he were a death-god whose name should not be directly uttered lest it draw his attention – it wasn’t anything Nie Huaisang had accepted as a personal title, utterly inauspicious as it was, but if he didn’t take one soon, he’d be stuck with it. If he wasn’t already.

People were simply uncomfortable calling him Nie-er-gongzi the way they had before, and Lan Xichen didn’t blame them one bit – the Nie-er-gongzi of the past was unrecognizable in the man of today.

But neither could he blame Nie Huaisang for refusing the title of Sect Leader Nie as long as his brother still had a single spark of life in his body.

Nie Mingjue…

Lan Xichen missed him terribly.

He knew he didn’t have the right to – Nie Huaisang had made that clear enough – but he did. He missed his old friend, with his confidence and his kindness and his goodness. He missed having a confidant who esteemed him and who trusted him, who shared everything with him without a moment’s hesitation, who always tried his best and honored those who did the same.

He’d once, and only once, caught a brief glimpse of Nie Mingjue after everything had happened: he’d been in bed, pale as death, face quiet and slack and peaceful in a way it never was, with doctors surrounding him. At the time, they were working furiously to save his life as Nie Huaisang paced furiously outside the door, refusing food and only drinking enough water to replenish the tears that streamed endlessly down his face.

That had been early on, before they’d realized Nie Mingjue had lapsed into a deep coma from which there was no telling when or if he would awake and, even if he did, in what state he would be left in. That had been before Nie Huaisang had banned Lan Xichen from the Unclean Realm…banned everyone, really, hosting them anywhere else he could rather than allow them anywhere near his brother when he was vulnerable.

Before he’d slowly started giving up hope. Before they all had.

It’d been years, after all. Surely if Nie Mingjue’s indomitable strength could heal him, it would have done so by now?

Of course, even if Nie Mingjue did eventually wake up, it wasn’t as if Lan Xichen would get his friend back the way it had once been. Nie Mingjue had always been righteous to the point of rigidity, willing to make the hard choices to punish those who had done wrong no matter their identity, and Lan Xichen had failed him so thoroughly, so completely…

Guiltily, too, he knew that if Nie Mingjue woke up, he’d undoubtedly step up as general once more, coordinating everything the way he had during the Sunshot Campaign – and that meant they wouldn’t need to rely on Lan Xichen’s assistance anymore.

Nie Huaisang had made that clear, too.

Whoever had raised his ire by sending him that message that had pulled him away from their work together…well, they’d better have a very good excuse. Nie Huaisang hated to be interrupted, his temper as short as anyone in his family’s had ever been, and his tongue was more poisonous than Jiang Cheng’s.

Lan Xichen would know, being its most frequent target.

Nie Huaisang had never forgiven Lan Xichen in his part in preserving Jin Guangyao’s life, and lacking the actual assassin to rend to bits, he had grimly decided to make do with the accomplice. He needled Lan Xichen at every instance, taunting him with his failures and deficiencies, making nasty jibes and underhanded remarks that cut deep – and Lan Xichen deserved every single one of them.

Back then, it had been Lan Xichen who had hesitated, refusing to believe the truth. Refusing to believe that his then (and, perhaps, still) beloved A-Yao could ever do such terrible things of which he had been accused, either at his time in the Nightless City or the assassination of Nie Mingjue – he had pushed back, prevaricated, insisted on investigating more, finding out more…in the end the truth had come out in all its ugly wretched filthy glory and the only thing his foot-dragging and indecisiveness that he’d pretended was a devotion to justice had gotten him was Nie Huaisang’s endless disdain.

The worst of it, though, wasn’t the humiliation or the insults, nor his feelings of failure and guilt.

No, it was the way his foolish heart raced at how Nie Huaisang looked now, with all restraint a distant memory – the sharp Nie features on his delicate face turning from blurred to clear as the childhood fat on his cheeks melted away; the intelligence that flashed in his eyes, now unhidden by any pretense or indifference; the utter brilliance in the casual way he rattled off orders, effortlessly taking command without permitting any backtalk; the way he moved, a mixture of the martial general and a dancer’s grace; the way everything about him perfectly fit to Lan Xichen’s taste –

He really was a fool.

He had a crush on you for years, Lan Xichen reminded himself. Nie Mingjue even told you about it, he’d even approved of it back then if only you were interested, and yet you pretended you knew nothing. But now, now when he hates you, despises you, sees you as little better than a worm to crush beneath his heel, now is when you finally choose to see what’s always been there?

He hadn’t said anything to Nie Huaisang about it, of course. There wasn’t any point when Nie Huaisang already thought of him in the worst possible terms – weakling, willfully blind, murderer – and he could easily imagine how it might go, if he ever tried anything.

(“I heard some soldiers say that I resemble Jin Guangyao,” Nie Huaisang had mused one day, his hands locked behind his back as he looked down at their troops training in the field. His voice was cold as ice and sharp as a blade. “Though there’s some disagreement as to whether it’s my face or the devious turns of my mind that bring up the comparison. I thought I’d ask you, Zewu-jun, you being the expert and all – am I a good replacement? A suitable stand-in? If I smile at you enough times, will you do whatever I say without question, the way you did for him?”

I would already do anything for you, Lan Xichen had thought at the time, full of sorrow. In a way that goes well beyond what I felt for him. But even if I told you, you wouldn’t believe me, would you?)

No, it was clear enough to Lan Xichen that his father’s blood ran strong in him, dooming him to only love where he was not loved in return, and to finally realize the strength of that love only when it was too late. At least it seemed that Lan Wangji had escaped that fate with Wei Wuxian, their earlier misunderstandings aside.

A moment later, as if summoned by his thoughts, the man himself appeared.

“Oh, Zewu-jun, there you are! Have you seen Nie-xiong?” Wei Wuxian asked, popping his head in through the door. Lan Wangji was a few steps behind him, waiting patiently as he always did – he was always patient with Wei Wuxian, gentle in a manner that reminded Lan Xichen of the way he sometimes cared for the wild rabbits back at the Cloud Recesses.

They hadn’t spoken much, of late. Lan Wangji had understood Lan Xichen’s weakness and had not held it against him, but that didn’t mean Lan Xichen had forgiven himself, nor did it lessen the sting of shame he felt over events he felt must have lost him the respect of his younger brother, no matter how Lan Wangji denied it – it was easier to focus on matters of war.

“He was called away suddenly, I’m afraid,” Lan Xichen said. “He left a few shichen ago, but he said he’d be back in time for dinner.”

“Dinner has already passed,” Lan Wangji said, his voice neutral – an obvious reprimand for Lan Xichen for having not noticed, shaded with concern over the way Lan Xichen didn’t always eat the way he should. He wouldn’t be hurt by it, he practiced inedia the way they all did, of course, but that didn’t mean he should miss meals if he didn’t have to. “He has not yet returned?”

“Not that I’ve noticed. But if it’s that late, he should be back soon. Do you need him for something urgent?”

“As urgent as anything else in this war,” Wei Wuxian said with a shrug. “If you see him, let us know.”

“Why do you assume I’ll see him first?” Lan Xichen asked, a little amused, but Wei Wuxian blinked at him as if he’d said something foolish.

“He always comes to you first,” he said. “Hadn’t you noticed?”

Lan Xichen’s breath caught briefly – no, he hadn’t noticed, and his mind immediately started to race, his heart growing warm…but no. He only was being foolish again. As the army’s courier, its administrator, Lan Xichen was the obvious person for Nie Huaisang to contact if he wanted to get his plans spread out to everyone as soon as possible.

There didn’t have to be anything more to it than that.

“So when he arrives, if you could just tell him –”

“No need,” Lan Wangji interrupted. “He is approaching.”

A few moments later, and it was clear from the footsteps that Lan Wangji was right, as always – when Lan Wangji was younger, Lan Xichen used to tease him about having the ears of a bat, capable of detecting everything, and sometimes he really thought it might be true.

They waited, and the door opened, and Lan Xichen instinctively turned away as Nie Huaisang let himself in, not wanting to see those hard eyes turn even harder, the instinctive sneer that rose to Nie Huaisang’s lips at the sight of him that it always took him an extra moment to suppress.

“Nie-xiong?” Wei Wuxian asked, his voice rising a register in his shock. “What happened?”

Lan Xichen turned back at once, suddenly cold all over in terror. Had Nie Huaisang been injured? Some ambush, some attack, or worst of all a garrote made of guqin string the way he’d so foolishly taught A-Yao – but no, when he examined him with his eyes, Nie Huaisang looked hale as always, but for the redness and swelling around his eyes.

He looked for all the world as if he’d been –

Crying?

And yet Lan Xichen knew that Nie Huaisang hadn’t wept in years. One could probably accurately say that Nie Huaisang hadn’t had any expression in years, nothing that wasn’t a sneer or a grimace, maybe at best a smirk. What could have caused him to do so now…?

Nie Huaisang shook his head and unexpectedly – smiled.

A real true smile, his eyes curving into crescents and wrinkling at the corners, his cheeks glowing pink and his teeth flashing just like when he was younger and more innocent and smiled like that all the time. A smile of the sort that Lan Xichen hadn’t appreciated when he had it, the sort he’d thought was lost forever.

Lan Xichen’s heart stopped in his chest.

He wished he could stop this moment, too, to keep it with him for the rest of time.

“It’s da-ge,” Nie Huaisang said, beaming. “He woke up.”

Oh, Lan Xichen thought. Oh.

Oh no.

#mdzs #lan xichen #nie huaisang #wei wuxian #lan wangji #my fic #my fics #unfettered #xisang

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chubbyreaderwriter · 4 years

Text

Hands Off

Steve Rogers x Chubby/Plus Size Reader

Prompt: could i request one with steve rogers where tony stark comments on your body and flirts with you to no end but you’re dating steve and he gets all jealous and protective of you 🥺👉🏻👈🏻💖

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: swearing

Masterlist

Being in a relationship with someone as perfect as Steve, you knew that there was going to be times where the familiar green eyed monster would rear it’s ugly head but you had been foolish to assume you would be the one struggling with jealousy in your relationship. You were a very attractive woman, despite how you saw yourself, a lot of guys wished they could take Steve’s place at your side. One of those men being a certain genius billionaire playboy philanthropist, or better known as Tony Stark.

The man was either completely unaware of your relationship status or he just didn’t care. The flirting had started small, mere compliments that would be normal to give to a friend or coworker without it being weird. He would say something nice about your hair or your outfit or your work and move on with his day. Sometimes you thought you were at fault for ‘encouraging’ him, all you did was thank him but maybe that was enough for Tony to think you were interested in something more.

The flirting got worse over time, more crude and sexual but you still didn’t really think it was a big problem. This was Tony Stark, surely he does this to every living woman that walks near him. You’d tried to bring up the fact you have a boyfriend but Tony didn’t believe you, “Come on (Y/N), you expect me to believe the hundred year old virgin bagged a chick as hot as you?” You wouldn’t do much but roll your eyes at him and continue working. You worked in the tower as Bruce’s assistant, which meant you were constantly distracted and annoyed by the persistent womanizer of the building.

You had told Steve about Tony’s flirting but it just so happened that Tony’s and Steve’s schedules always had them far away from each other so Steve never had an opportunity to confront his teammate about this issue. Steve had laughed when you told him, thinking it was just classic Tony sass, not realising that the man had no idea you two were together. While Steve pretended it was fine, he couldn’t help but let himself get distracted during missions, wondering if Tony was hitting on you that very moment and there was nothing he could do to stop it. But he was being ridiculous right? Tony wouldn’t go for his girl, would he?

You were stood looking down at your desk, analyzing some results sheets for an experiment you were collaborating with Bruce on. It had been a pretty dull and tedious day up until the lab doors opened and in walked the last person you wanted to see today. Tony caught sight of you before you had time to find a place to hide to avoid him. He strolled over to your station, “Hey beautiful, I did come looking for the jolly green giant but instead I found something much sexier to look at.” It was now a force of habit to roll your eyes at anything that came out of Tony’s mouth. Scoffing, you replied, “Oh please, when are you going to learn that I’m not interested.”

Tony grinned but moved away to give you space, “Yes yes, you have a boyfriend,” he used his fingers to mimic quotation marks as he said the word ‘boyfriend’, still stuck on his theory that you were still single and available. You sighed in annoyance but perked up when Bruce walked through the lab doors, Tony always backed off a little when Bruce was around, thank god. Tony swung his arms by his side, “Say, why don’t you bring him to the party tonight. If he’s a no go, I know that’s you telling me you’re finally giving into my charms.” Bruce walked closer so Tony leaned in to whisper, “I’d prefer it if you didn’t wear any underwear.” He turned and walked over to Bruce too fast to be able to see the disgusted look on your face.

How could he be so delusional to think that you were interested in him. The only man you had eyes for was Steve and no one else was going to change that. You had arrived home later that night in a huff, you really didn’t want to go to that party but you definitely didn’t want to give Tony the wrong impression and make things ten times worse for yourself. Steve seemed to sense your frustration the moment you walked through the door and walked out from his seat in the living room to pull you into his arms as you stood in the hallway. You let out a sigh as you wrapped your arms around Steve’s back.

“Hard day at work, doll?” Just hearing Steve’s voice was enough to calm you down. You mumbled a noise of agreement as best you could with your face smushed against Steve’s chest. He laid his head on top of yours, “Is there anything I can do to help?” You pulled away to look up at Steve, “Will you go to a party with me so Tony will stop flirting with me?” You didn’t see the way Steve’s jaw clenched when you said Tony’s name, “Of course I will doll.” You smiled as you headed to your bedroom to find a dress you wanted to wear tonight. In the scenario you played out in your head, it took a lot more convincing to get Steve to be your date. Steve was more a sit at home and read a good book kind of guy most nights, only really going to events if he was required to attend or if he was bored.

Steve watched you rummage through your closet to try and find a nice dress to wear for the party. Even though you didn’t want Tony’s attention, you still wanted to look good for yourself and for Steve. After a few minutes, you found the dress you were looking for and laid it out on the bed to look for a matching pair of heels to go with it. The dress was a long sleeved, off the shoulder maxi dress with a long spit down the left side that went up to the top of your thigh. It had ruffles along the hem at the top, covering the outline of your chest but making it look even more seductive at the same time. It was a deep burgundy colour and you paired it with some black platform heels. You didn’t wear heels that often, but when you did, you felt sexy and confident.

Once you were done getting ready for the party, you checked yourself out in the mirror and you couldn’t resist checking yourself out. Steve had his eyes on your from the other side of the room as well, approaching you from behind to wrap his arms around your waist. He placed a soft kiss on your exposed neck, “You look gorgeous, doll. I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep my hands to myself all night.” You grinned and bit your lip, turning around in Steve’s arms to face him, placing your arms around his neck, looking him up and down, “I don’t think you’ll be the only one.” Steve always looked good but when he dressed up, it really made you wonder how you managed to convince the Captain American to be yours.

If you hadn’t already been late to arrive at the party, you were sure you would’ve been tempted to have a quickie before heading out. Unfortunately, just as you leaned in for a kiss, you got a notification from Happy, letting you know that he was outside and Tony sent him to pick you up. You held back a groan, not wanting to concern Steve and walked downstairs with him to get into the black limousine. You sighed, it was clear that Tony didn’t know the meaning of the word subtle. Steve held the door open for you so you could get inside and took the opportunity to glance at your behind as you had to bend over to crawl inside, holding up the bottom of your dress so it didn’t get ruined. It was a short drive to Stark Tower and quiet. You and Steve felt comfortable enough being just in each other’s presence without needing to fill the silence with conversation. You knew each other’s mannerisms to know that you were both excited for the night ahead. You were looking forward to the look on Tony’s face when you rocked up with your boyfriend.

Once you got inside, Steve gently tapped on your arm, “I’m gonna head over to the men’s room, I’ll be right back okay?” You nodded and walked over to the bar that was next to the elevator, ordering yourself a cocktail and a beer for Steve. It didn’t really matter what you got Steve, he didn’t even get tipsy unless he was given some of Thor’s alcohol from Asgard and it seemed the blonde god wasn’t around tonight to get your boyfriend drunk. Due to your back facing the rest of the room, you weren’t able to see a certain billionaire making his way towards you. Tony smirked as he placed his hands on your hips and pressed himself against you, “I don’t see a date.” At first, you thought Steve had come back from the bathroom but then Tony spoke and you froze. You pushed your elbow back into his stomach to try and force him off of you but he didn’t budge, “Get off me.” You didn’t want to cause a scene but already people were starting to look your way and you felt embarrassed.

Tony laughed, “Oh come on (Y/N), we both know you want me.” Just as you felt Tony move closer against you, he was suddenly ripped away from you and you heard a crash and a grunt of pain, followed by “Get your hands off my girl!” You quickly turned around to see Steve standing over Tony who was lying on the ground with glass all around him. You looked at Steve and breathed heavily, still processing what happened. Steve looked at you before holding out his hand. You eagerly grabbed it and let yourself be pulled closer to him, being pulled down the hallway to the elevator, indicating that you were leaving already, not that you minded. You said nothing in the elevator, not really knowing what to say. You didn’t really have to say anything when Steve pressed you against the wall and pressed a rough kiss against your lips. You gasped and he took that opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth. You pulled away to catch your breath, gasping softly. Steve put his hands on your hips, where Tony’s had been moments before, “He shouldn’t have touched you.”

Steve’s voice was low and deeper than normal, it made you feel tingly and sent a shiver down your spine. You looked him in the eyes, “That’s right, because I’m yours and only yours.” Those words struck something in Steve and he pressed the emergency stop button before picking you up and pressing you hard against the wall, wrapping your legs around his hips. Your hands gripped his hair and the back of his shirt, trying to pull him closer to you as your lips connected a second time. Your hands moved to start to unbutton Steve’s shirt when the elevator started moving once more, “Apologies Miss (Y/L/N) and Captain Rogers, but as it is not an emergency situation, the elevator must be kept available for use.” You groaned and hit your head against the wall, you couldn’t believe you were getting cock blocked by a robot. Steve chuckled against your neck as he set you down, “Guess we’ll have to wait until we get home, doll.”

. . .

The next morning when you walked into work, you were very worried that you were going to be dragged out onto the street without a job anymore, but that didn’t seem to be the case, your ID badge was still accessing entrance to your work station. When you arrived at the lab, you jumped as you saw Tony sitting on the edge of your desk silently. He looked up at you and raised his hands up, “I surrender, you tried to tell me and I didn’t listen. I apologize, truce?” You glared at him, looking down at his outstretched hand back to his face. You were unsure about this but reached out to shake his hand, “Okay, truce.” As you leaned forward a little, the collar of your lab coat fell and showed the top of a hickey on your neck. Tony grinned to himself, “Didn’t know Captain Underpants doubled as a vampire.” He left and you quickly covered your neck with your hand, rushing over to a mirror to check it out, not realising it was there. You softly bit your lip as you remembered last night and suddenly it didn’t matter anymore.

#marvel #marvel x reader #marvel x plus size reader #marvel x chubby reader #avengers #avengers x reader #avengers x chubby reader #avengers x plus size reader #Steve Rogers #steve x reader #steve x chubby reader #steve x plus size reader #chubby reader #x chubby reader #plus size reader #x plus size reader

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akaneluve · 3 years

Text

〰〰° ⸙͎➤ MEMORIES WITH THE KING SOLOMON

〰〰° ⸙͎➤ The tragic love story of the immortal and ruthless King Solomon and low-class village person MC.

(not proofread *runs away*)

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶˗ˋ .*ೃ✧₊˚.❁ ↷

What was the point of living right now when all I could feel was nothing? I keep wandering across the world just to feel something, but alas nothing could satisfy my immortal life. I left everything in my life, my riches and possessions were now gone. Though there was one place that I would visit almost every day, your grave. My life was a mess before you appeared, you were like an angel or a diamond shining alone majestically. I felt true happiness with you, MC. You were the one who helped fixed my unforgivable mistakes.

I was a ruthless king who killed many people who dare to defy me or annoy me. And you were just a mere village person but why did I fall in love with you. You were brought to me in the palace for supposedly stealing the fruits in my garden, but the only thing you stole from me was my heart. You pleaded for mercy and I felt my heart soften, for such a ruthless king I felt pure with you. As I excused you, you promised that you would repay me I had no idea what was going on with your mind that day but I guess that's how our relationship bloomed.

A low-class person with the king was just scandalous but it didn't stop us. You came every day bringing me small trinkets. Although I already had everything in my palace, the gifts you gave were worth much more than any gold I owned. You helped me in deciding choices for my kingdom, you were fit for being royalty. But when I asked for your consent on ruling beside me, you simply refused. It seemed like you influenced me a lot, the people were now praising me little by little.

I remember you telling me about cherry blossoms, it seemed like you had a deep interest in them. Though it might seem childish, I did have slight jealousy for the tree. The tree symbolizes love and you mentioned wanting to share the so-called love with me. And as you smiled at me, I could feel the butterflies in my stomach and my face going red. You were like a single match glowing in the darkness.

I never wanted you to leave my side. As a child, no kid would befriend me, leaving me and most of my childhood to be alone. And the parents that I thought would love me unconditionally, left me alone at the young age of 16 to rule an entire kingdom by myself with no guidance. Everything was slipping away from me at my fingertips and I wasn't fast enough to grasp them. Until you came and helped me with everything, you were truly angelic. I became a new person because of you.

Though just because I'm good now doesn't mean my past was. A kingdom that I have been on bad terms with, decided to start a war with mine. You told me to talk with them but I ignored your pleas, though I wished I had listened to them. If war was what they want then a war they will get. I trained my men to get prepared for the battle that lays ahead of us. And with weapons in our hand and a mighty war cry, we headed off. But I didn't get to see the concerned face of yours nor the desperate words you said.

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶˗ˋ .*ೃ✧₊˚.❁ ↷

As we headed back to my kingdom, a victorious smile was seen on our faces. We had won and I was ready to celebrate with you! After countless blood splattered on the battlefield and men falling one by one, we had returned. Though what we didn't expect was the kingdom in flames. What had happened? And most importantly where were you?! It seemed like the enemy kingdom attacked the place and left but that was too late now. Luckily some knights remained to guard the kingdom and lured the enemy away.

With my horse, I rode to the castle desperately searching for you. Everything was in ruins, we had completely overseen this situation. After searching every inch of the once tall and enormous castle, I headed to the garden, the place where you were once caught "stealing". And there I saw your lifeless body beneath a still and flowering cherry blossom. My entire world stopped, we had won the war but at what cost? The only person who helped me was now gone. Looks like I was the loser in this ridiculous game.

Dropping to my knees, I held you close. Tears were now streaming down but I didn't care. Your body that was once warm was now colder than ice. The sweet scent of lavender that you used was replaced with the smell of blood. The hand that I loved to hold so dearly was now unmoving. Though beside you was a letter. The writing was sloppy but it was readable

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶˗ˋ .*ೃ✧₊˚.❁ ↷

"Dear Solomon,

It had been a few days since you and the others had left. I wish you and everyone victory and safety. I am rushing this letter since I heard rumbling on the outside. Outsiders have taken over the city, I alarmed the knights just now and currently rushing to the garden to hide. I can hear footsteps trailing behind me. I feel like this is the end of me, Solomon. I wish you the best in life and I want you to continue ruling like the great king you are! I l-"

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶˗ˋ .*ೃ✧₊˚.❁ ↷

It seems like the letter ends there and you also had more words to say. The handwriting was getting messier with each word, I figured it's because you were running and writing, how childish of you. I looked over to your bloody body and saw that there was a hole in your chest. I looked behind me and saw a trail of blood. So you were shot and was crawling towards the tree to save yourself? I wish I was here early to have protected you. I wish I could've done something to stop this. I am so sorry, my love. I wish I could've saved you like how you saved me from the darkness.

I didn't want to move your body anywhere else so I decided the best option was to bury you beside the cherry blossom. You have captured my heart completely and to bury you beside the so-called tree of love slightly hurt me. I was never the one to shed tears but if it was for you, I would cry an entire ocean. What hurts more is that I could never be with you again due to my immortal life.

I wasn't the same since then. I was back to my old ways, the ruthless King Solomon. The heavens wouldn't accept me even if I had the chance to die, I had no place there. I now ruled alone and cold. I had so much more to say to you, more things to do with you, and all of it was gone to some foolish decision I made. I didn't get to hear you one last time and I didn't have the time to confess my feelings for you, though it was always evident that we both loved each other. Till the end of the world, I hope you still say "I love you" to me for I still say "I love you" to you.

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶˗ˋ .*ೃ✧₊˚.❁ ↷

〰〰° ⸙͎➤ help why is tumblr hard to use

#obey me #obey me fanfic #obey me shall we date #obey me solomon #obey me solomon x mc #obey me solomon x reader #obey me x reader #obey me x mc #solomon x reader #solomon x mc #yzaluvbot #Spotify

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shini--chan · 3 years

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Hello there, I honestly love the way you write everyone (especially yandere Prussia) I was wondering what if the reader really underestimated Prussia and Veneziano? As if thinking of them as a weak and a careless nation? Trying to fight and degrade them? Please write about it IF you can love 💕 Take care!

All I can say is: Thank you for sending in this neat ask.

Yandere Hetalia – Obfuscation

Italy

“I don’t think you understand. Your word against mine isn’t enough for black mail”, you voiced your doubts. Reasonable doubts, for somebody so young. A young being that understood as well as knew so little of the workings of the world. He could forgive you for that. Ignorance wasn’t a sin, rather a liability. One that would cost you so much.

Feli chuckled softly and wore a smile to match, as sweet as the cantuccini that he had just been dipping into the bitter rose wine he had ordered. Taking a bite from the alcohol soaked treat, he relished in the bittersweet taste that unfolded. In a way, it mirrored the situation.

“Oh bella. When it hasn’t been sword against sword it has always been word against word. My word is more than enough”, he quipped good naturedly, drumming his fingers against the wooden surface. Your brows furrowed, your features distorting into an expression of incomprehension. Really, it nearly caused him to laugh. However, unlike you, he possessed a decent amount of tact.

Shaking your head, you insisted: “Doesn’t matter how you honey up your words. If it’s your word against mine that’s not enough for decent blackmail. You need evidence.”

You were wise enough to keep your voice down. While you both were in a restaurant on his turf, speaking quietly in quick English, one couldn’t be too careful. Feli knew well enough on how his people loved to gossip and on how reputation mattered so much more than in the Anglosphere. On the other hand, you couldn’t lash out against him without being looked down upon in the aftermath.

“No, I just need to be more convincing than you”, he retaliated. When you shook your head again in denial, he couldn’t help but sigh. Of course, he was holding a Damocles sword over your head, and you just were so unwilling to comprehend. Maybe he would have to make true on some of his threats, just to get a point across. After all, a burnt child dreads the fire.

Italy would be used to people underestimating him. After all, he wouldn’t be much of a soldier, preferring diplomacy over warfare. Everybody has simply forgotten that he once held all the strings. Not that he could blame them; he was very discreet about in the past, always operating from the shadows.

In a way, your behaviour would both infuriate and delight him. Infuriate, because your lack of insight would be cringe-worthy in his eyes and would ask himself how somebody could be so blind. Delight, because that would give him the opportunity to dig a ditch to trap you in without you suspecting a single thing.

He would get it. He wouldn’t come across as having a spin of steel or of having the ambitions that would lead him to cultivating diplomatic expertise. Feli would be quick to spill tears, whether out of genuine emotion or as part of an act, and that is usually seen as a staple for weakness. You would probably underestimate him to such an extreme extent that he could tell you the raw truth and you wouldn’t believe.

Despite any misgivings he would have, he wouldn’t hesitate to back in a corner if you wouldn’t behave – as in slandering your name, using his contacts to have you demoted, rejected, pushed aside, cancelled and so on. He would be your only solace, the only person in the world that could help you. Feliciano would offer your protection and a way to re-establish yourself in society. It would all depend on how much you would love him.

Prussia

Gilbert turned around the corner to find you fiddling with the door, or better said the lock of the door. You were sticking hair pins in it, twisting the upper one this way and that, muttering furiously. The curses that were flying from your mouth were of the grave sort that would make even a potty-mouthed, seasoned-soldier blush. Which Gilbert was.

Taking a few steps forward, he then cleared his throat noisily, making you abruptly turn around. Your eyes were wide blown, like a deer that had decided the best method to deal with the approaching head lights would be to stare them down. However you promptly wiped the sheepish look of your face and straightened your back.

“What are you doing?”, he asked, making sure you make his words sharp. The answer lay at hand but the whole point was to make you feel guilty about what you were doing. Besides that, an entrée was needed.

“I am leaving”, you announced defiantly, a smug grin on your face.

“Not on my watch.”

“Then just look away”, you countered snidely, the most unbearable expression on your visage as you drew out the syllables. “Out of sight, out of mind.”

He nearly flinched. Obviously, he had rubbed off on you a bit and in this case it wasn’t necessarily a good thing. Because of that, he sneered: “Don’t be unbearable. You’re staying, the end.”

“Well, if I am so unbearable, isn’t it high time for me to leave?”

Gilbert rolled his eyes at your antics. Enough was enough and a good talking to about your actions wouldn’t do. Therefor he told you: “Yes, high time to leave your foolish plans and get a proper spanking.”

He stepped forward to grab you, but you danced out of his reach, fists raised in front of your face in a familiar stance. A boxing stance, one that he used often. Shame really, and here he had thought you had been admiring his gorgeous physique whenever you had watched him train.

“I’ll fight you”, you hissed. This caused him to smile, tauntingly.

“Oh really?”

Your answer was to punch forward, aiming for his nose. Unlucky for you, he stepped aside, causing you to overreach and lose your balance. You face-planted the floor in one of the most ungraceful manners he had ever observed. Before you could stand up, he placed a foot on your nape – just enough that it was uncomfortable, but not enough to throttle you.

If anything, Gilbert would find your attempts amusing. He has lived through countless wars, went from sword to musket to gun, fought on nearly every terrain imaginable. And you would seriously think you could stand a chance against him? The only way you would be able to have the upper hand against him, would be if you would catch him off guard when he’d be ill, and that wouldn’t happen.

Your attempts to fight him would give him great fodder to ridicule you. He simply wouldn’t cease reminding you how clumsy you would be. Gilbert would comment that you probably watched far to many Hollywood films to think you could earnestly beat him up. Joke would be on you. Also, he would use it as an excuse to give you a few bruises, self-defence and all.

#yandere hetalia #yandere italy #yandere prussia #x reader #yandere x reader

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ladykissingfish · 3 years

Text

Under the Mistletoe with the Akatsuki // Part Seven // “Tobi”

Tobi

Expendable. This is the word that Obito Uchiha hears most frequently from his “savior” and Master, Madara: Expendable. “Everyone in that group is expendable, Obito. Pawns. A means to an end. Getting attached is pointless; they are not your family; I am.” And maybe he’s right, but ... it’s already too late for Obito. He IS attached to this group; they’ve become the family that he’s never had. They weren’t Expendable by any stretch of the imagination, and Obito lives just to be around them ... even when he’s forced to act like the simpleton that Tobi is. Still, there are times when the Uchiha can have a lot of fun with these people — and this Mistletoe game is definitely one of them.

Itachi

Itachi is a difficult one for Obito to read , and even harder to understand. On one level, he’s positive that Itachi knows (or at the very least suspects) that “Tobi” isn’t who he portrays himself to be. But on the other hand, two things that Obito can read for sure are that Itachi is sick, and his depression is so immense that it crushes out almost all other thoughts. Itachi is the sole reason Obito keeps presenting himself as the idiotic Tobi, because to reveal himself would mean death, swift and sweet. He’s not even sure that Madara would have the power to stand up to Itachi. Nevertheless, the time and place for such thoughts isn’t standing under the mistletoe. “Heya, Itachi-san! Ya ready to kiss Tobi now?” Itachi merely nods, but makes no move to approach Tobi. So Tobi walks up to him instead, moves the mask just slightly off his lips, and kisses his cheek. “There ya go!” Itachi goes, and Obito breathes out a sigh of relief. Still, though, he can’t help but feel a little sad, at what he feels to be the impending demise of his fellow clansmen.

Sasori

Sasori has mixed feelings about Tobi. On the one had he feels that he’s just a simplistic moron who doesn’t really warrant a second thought. But on the other hand — Tobi seems really, really attached to his Senpai, and Sasori’s partner, Deidara. Attached in a way that seems, at times, in a way that’s more than purely friendly. Almost like he — but wait, why does Sasori even care what Tobi may or may not feel for the young blonde? It’s not as though Sasori has (or desires) any kind of claim on Deidara, right? The fact that Tobi is standing in front of him right now and Sasori wants nothing more than to murder him and toss his body to the wolves has absolutely nothing to do with Deidara, right? The fact that Pein keeps Sasori back at the hideout more and more to help with strategizing, and sends Tobi out with Deidara in Sasori’s place ... it was all for the best, right? “Oh boy! Tobi gets to kiss Sasori-san!” Sasori grimaces, as he always does, at the grating voice coming from behind the mask. Instead of waiting for Tobi to kiss him, Sasori takes the initiative by leaning up and quickly kissing his cheek. He walks away feeling inexplicably angry ... and it’s not until much later that night, as he’s sitting at his desk working on a puppet while everyone else sleeps ... that he realizes that when he kissed Tobi, he smelled the shampoo that Deidara used. He continues working but doesn’t get much accomplished, as he spends half the night pondering why the idea of Tobi being around Deidara makes him feel so unsettled.

Kisame

Ugh; this kid. Or was Tobi older than that? Kisame honestly had no idea how old Tobi actually was; he doubted that any of them did. Granted he acted like a tall 10 year old — but surely that’s just an act. He’d have to remember to ask Deidara later — did Tobi have any special combat skills? Did he know any useful jutsus? What was his fighting style like? So many unknowns, so many things to wonder about. And throughout it all, wafting from Tobi and straight into Kisame’s nostrils, that unmistakable scent of a predator. But in the wild, the only way to show superiority to a predator was to show that you weren’t afraid. Kisame walks confidently up to him, and flashes him a wide smile that showcases all of his razor-sharp teeth. “You ready, kid?” Tobi nods, and to Kisame’s credit, Tobi actually DOES seem intimidated by the death-trap mouth. That, and the fact that samehada, who is currently strapped to Kisame’s side, has his head up and staring directly at the man in the mask. Kisame steps forward and kisses Tobi’s forehead, then quickly walks away again, before his own fear can leak through his brave facade.

Zetsu

Zetsu flat-out declines to kiss Tobi. Partially because he knows exactly who he really is, and the two have been “friends” for so long that a kiss would just be strange. The other reason is because he hasn’t eaten in two days, having just returned from a long-term mission about an hour ago. He’s so hungry that anything and everything looks delicious, and if he were to try and kiss “Tobi” right then — there’s no doubt that he would have eaten him. And Madara would surely skin him alive for that. So he simply nods at Tobi, and nobody questions why the two don’t exchange a kiss.

Pein

Mysterious and concealed. That’s how Pein (or rather Nagato) would describe “Tobi”; mysterious and concealed. Being around Tobi gives him a strange feeling deep in his sunken chest, that maybe, just maybe, Nagato isn’t the one running this show. That Tobi is actually someone he needs to watch out for. Still, though, it is unfitting to show one’s misgivings to one’s (possible) enemy. As far as Tobi knows, Pein just thinks of him like one of his “children”. Pein approaches him and kisses the cheek of his mask, not giving Tobi time to remove it. “Thank you, Leader-sama!” Pein nods and walks away, wondering whether he just imagined a hint of condensation in Tobi’s voice upon calling Pein “Leader”.

Konan

When Obito was growing up, like many of the kids in Konoha, he didnt’ have a household with a mother and father in it. He was raised by his grandmother who, although loving and kind, didn’t really provide Obito with the kind of matronly emotional support that he needed. When he came to the Akatsuki, Konan more or less filled that role for him. As she did with everyone else, she cooked for him, she washed his clothes, she cleaned up after him. She scolded him when she felt he did something reckless and foolish, and, most importantly, she cared about him. To have someone care about you in a reality where you sometimes don’t even care about yourself is an amazing feeling. Konan approaches him with a shy smile on her face, her tiny dimples showcasing the young girl she had once been. Aside from Rin, Konan is probably the warmest person Obito has ever met. He moves his mask, thinks about it, and gives Konan a gentle kiss on the tip of her chin, then another on her forehead. Then he pulls her into his arms, embracing her warmly. “Thank you, Konan,” he says, in a low, almost-Obito-like voice. “For what?” “For being Tobi’s friend.” Konan blushes and smiles; as she leaves she tells Tobi that when he’s done with his turn, to come and get some of the pie she’s made, to which Tobi happily agrees.

Hidan

Hidan is blushing pretty damn hard as he walks up to Tobi; after what happened when it was Hidan’s turn under the mistletoe, it’s understandable why. “Listen, you orange fuck — don’t pull any of that shit you did last time, alright?” Tobi tilts his head and studies him as if confused. “What do you mean, Hidan-san? Didn’t you like kissing Tobi?”, he asks, and then, his voice dropping into a somewhat playful whisper, “Tobi sure liked kissing YOU.” Hidan blushes even harder, and mutters a “Just do it already, weirdo.” Tobi removes his mask enough so that Hidan can see the flash of his teeth, smiling before tilting Hidan backwards ((and Hidan is surprised at how strong Tobi is)) and giving him a soft kiss on the lips. As it was last time, Hidan is visibly flustered. Tobi smiles even wider; in truth, Hidan is one of the few in the Akatsuki that Obito likes the least. He finds him to be emotion-driven and overly violent, and these things don’t make for a very good teammate. Still; there’s no denying that to be able to shut Hidan up, even for a few moments like now, is indescribably satisfying. Hidan is still standing there in a daze as Tobi slides his mask back into place, and Tobi can’t keep the glee out of his voice as he asks, “Aww Hidan-san; do you wanna marry Tobi now?” This snaps Hidan out of it, and his loud cursing and stomping off can be heard throughout the entire house.

Kakuzu

“Isn’t this ridiculous game over yet??” “No, Kakuzu-san! Don’t be shy; come get a kissy from Tobi!” Kakuzu just rolls his eyes; he’s never really been sure what to think of Tobi. He’s been on zero missions with him so he had absolutely no knowledge of his battle prowess or combat skills (but judging by the way Deidara complains about him, they can’t be all that good). Also, there’s the thing with him covering his face with that mask. Kakuzu isn’t really one to judge that; HE wears a mask as well. But with Tobi it’s not just a mask; it’s the long black clothing underneath the long Akatsuki robe. It’s the thick gloves. It’s the way not a single piece of skin save his toes ever sees the light of day. What’s he hiding? Kakuzu strongly suspects that Tobi might be one of the more elite ninjas listed in the Bingo Book, and if that’s the case, all Kakuzu has to do is wait for the right time to catch him off guard, capture him, and collect a (hopefully substantial) bounty for him. He approaches him and lets Tobi press his mask against Kakuzu’s mask in their version of a kiss. He resolves to study the Bingo Book in-depth tonight before bed; surely Tobi’s identify must be in there somewhere.

Deidara

The look on Deidara’s face is as he approaches Tobi is indecipherable, even to the one who has the sharingan. Fear, anxiety, excitement — and something else Obito just can’t read. And as for Obito himself — what exactly IS it that he feels for Deidara?? He’s nothing more than a pawn, right? A means to an end, as Madara would say. But ... there have been times. Times away from the various hideouts, out in the middle of nowhere with nothing but their packs and their thoughts, that Deidara has shown himself to be remarkably different from the Deidara that the others (except, likely, Sasori) sees. A quiet young man. A deep thinker. Sensitive and kind. And — “Oi, Tobi; can I ask you something?” “Yes, Senpai?” “When — when I was under the mistletoe ... did me and you kiss? Or did I really faint like you said?” A beat of quiet, and then, “Senpai always says that the past doesn’t matter, so why should it matter if we kissed or not?” Deidara chuckles and shakes his head. “You always choose to remember the most random things I tell you, hm. Damn you — I can never tell what goes on in your brain, Tobi.” “You wanna know what Tobi’s thinking right now? Tobi thinks that Senpai — Senpai is one of the most beautiful creatures Tobi has ever seen.” Deidara blushes fiercely at this, and tries to cover up his embarrassment by saying, gruffly , “Let’s just get this over with, Tobi, hm.” So Obito obliges him. He moves his mask to expose his mouth, sweeps Deidara’s long hair back, tilts him, cups his chin with his thumb and forefinger, and gently leans into him with his lips. Deidara resists at first, hesitant, but eventually he finds his arms circling Tobi’s broad shoulders, holding him tightly. He HAS to hold on because he’s terribly dizzy; he’s not quite sure what’s happening to him, but Deidara feels as though he’s falling down a very deep hole inside of his mind, and Tobi is the only thing keeping him anchored to reality. The kiss finally ends when (and only because) Sasori suddenly comes out of his room, yelling “Brat! I’ve been calling for you for ten minutes; you know I don’t like to be kept waiting!” Deidara steps away from Tobi, and he’s stumbling as though he’s a bit disorientated. “G-Goodnight, hm.” “G’nite Senpai! Sweet dreams!” Obito watches Deidara walk away, just barely conscious of the strange glance Sasori pitches in his direction when Deidara reaches his room.

#the akatsuki #under the mistletoe #kissing #deidara #sasori #tobi #obito uchiha #itachi uchiha #zetsu #kakuzu #hidan #kisame #pein #konan #naruto shippuden #headcanon

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