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nana-gumi · 1 month

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I LOVE LOVE LOVE YOUR ANGST SM, WELL WRITTEN ISTG!! as one of my favorite angst writer, i had this idea in my mind for a long time. imagine you found out that you're 12 weeks pregnant and you were too excited to surprise satoru about it but when he came home, he broke the news that he got his ex pregnant. he was cheating and the surprise slipped out of your mind and you got angry at him and led into an argument... YOU CAN CONTINUE IF YOU WANT. I REALLY WANT TO SEE HOW OR WHAT ENDING YOU'LL WRITE. and also, make it a very very angst 😋

anyway, don't be a stranger g.satoru

pairings: gojo satoru x fem! reader

cw: heavy angst, infidelity, pregnancy, illness, mentions of death, cremation, as usual not proofread hehe

a/n: YOU ASKED FOR THIS OKAY?? anyways, happy reading :p

it was positive.

the moment you saw two red lines from the pregnancy test you bought, you didn't know what to feel at first, you were in disbelief so you tried it for the second, and third time, but the results did not change at all so you took this as a cue to visit a doctor, and there was no doubt in it, it was revealed that you were 12 weeks pregnant.

how should you tell your husband? satoru was barely home from his work after all. you knew how hard it is to be a new company's head so you understand him.

and so you dialed satoru's number as you nervously bit your bottom lip. he answered at the fifth ring.

"hello?"

"satoru–" you paused, and a small smile made its way on your lips. "can you come home, tonight? are you busy?"

"uh, not really." he sounded unsure but you didn't even noticed it on how excited you were.

"can you come home tonight, please?" you repeated.

"alright." he said as you heard him sigh from the other line "i– wanted to tell you something." he said and satoru's tone was unrecognizable, it was like his voice was slightly shaking.

"okay?" you worriedly said. "see you later, satoru. i love youuu."

"mhm, i love you too."

if someone would see you right now, they would, in an instant, notice that you were celebrating something special. you sure were prepared for satoru's return, you even wore nice dress and a cardigan as you await for his arrival.

and here he comes.

satoru enters the door and saw you approaching him.

"welcome home." you said as you leaned your face his chest followed by a kiss on his cheek. it was unusual on how he didn't return your advances as he walked past you.

his gloomy approach was affecting you as you placed a concerning hand on his shoulder, the surprise you prepared for him suddenly slipping out of your mind.

"what's wrong, honey?" you asked as you felt him tense up.

"you know i love you, right?" he said, and you thought you've read those words from a book before. you just hoped that the words he would say next wouldn't hurt you as much as the words on the book did.

you hummed in response as satoru turned to face you.

"i'm really sorry, my love. please forgive me."

"satoru, what's wrong? why are you– i'm scared." you said as satoru face palmed, his own body giving up as he was forced to sit down on the couch as he opened his mouth to speak and..

what was he saying? you sure you've heard it but, it sounds muffled when it entered your ears.

"i'm so sorry." he said as he stood up, embracing you as tight as he could so you wouldn't have a chance to step away from him.

"how long?" you muttered and satoru wasn't familiar with the tone of your voice. he didn't respond and it made your blood boil as you pushed him. "i asked how long!" you yelled.

"4 months."

"4 months?! 4 fucking months and you're just informing me about it right now? is that why you're not always home?!" you were screaming at this point and satoru tried to reach for your hand but you were quick to draw back.

"i already cut off ties with her! please believe me."

"satoru, you got someone pregnant! do you want the child to grow up without a father?" you exclaimed as you released a heavy sigh.

"it was just a mistake, we were drunk." satoru said as he embraced you.

"are you sure you'd let me attend the reunion?"

"yup, why? don't you want to?" you said as you fixed his tie.

"my ex is going to be there, though." he said and out of all the reactions he could get from you, he didn't expect you to smile at him as you pinch his nose.

"i trust you, satoru. i already did the moment we exchanged vows."

satoru was sure that the trust you had for him was already gone by now.

"take responsibility, satoru." you said as you push him by his chest.

"i love you so so so much, (name). please, i can't live without you."

"satoru, you can't just have me around while raising a child with another woman! what would people say?"

"like i told you, i already cut off ties with her."

"i know how it feels to grow up without a father, satoru." you mumbled as you look down on the ground. "it'll be fine. i'll manage, somehow."

"no–"

"why are you being stubborn!"

"you're being selfish!" he exclaimed as you gasp in surprise. selfish? you? how could he say that.

"you'll thank me someday, satoru." you mumbled.

"(name), please.."

"satoru. understand the situation." you weren't screaming anymore and.. why was he crying?

satoru took your hand on his as he placed it on his cheek and leaned on it, his tears stopping on your fingers and, you couldn't help but tear up as well.

"it'll be fine." you mumbled, voice breaking as you closed your eyes.

"i swear with all of my heart, that i love love love you. i'm sorry, forgive me. i didn't have enough courage to tell you sooner, because i was scared that it'll end up, like how it is now."

"it'll eventually come, you can't hide it from me forever, y'know." the storm was starting to calm as both of you spoke with hushed tones. "now go."

"let's talk about this one more time, please?" he mumbled as you slowly removed his hand on yours.

"then tell me, 'toru. what's there left for us to talk about?" you asked and satoru was, unfortunately quiet. "there's nothing, right?"

"love, please. i'm so sorry."

"what's done is done, satoru. we couldn't possibly go back in time and fix everything, right?"

"please." he whispered, hoping for something that he, himself doesn't even know what.

"i won't hate you for this, satoru. it's just– i hope you told me sooner."

"i'm so sorry. i'm grateful to have you as my wife, i'm sorry if i couldn't treat you like how you deserve it."

he really didn't deserve you. you were so understanding that satoru couldn't even look at you in the eyes.

"i'll say it as many times as i could. i love you. i didn't regret marrying you." he said as he cupped your tear stained cheeks and leaned his forehead on yours. "i don't really deserve you." satoru leaned in, kissing you and kissed back because both of you knew that, it was for the last time.

satoru left your apartment after settling things out. you fell on the couch as you felt something on the pocket of your cardigan.

"fuck." you muttered as you laughed bitterly, clutching the results in your hand, placing it close to your chest. you forgot the surprise and now that satoru have made up his mind, you knew there was no point on telling him anymore. grow up without a father, huh? now you're the one to talk.

a week has passed.

"hey." he acknowledged as he sat beside you inside the court.

"hey." you responded as you fiddle with your fingers. a gesture satoru noticed when you're uncomfortable. were you uncomfortable around him?

"how have you been?"

"i don't know." you said as satoru went silent.

"are you okay? let's stop this divorce if you–?"

"no, i just don't feel well."

"you can still change minds, y'know." satoru mumbled, anxiously tapping his feet on the floor.

should you tell him? it was a chance, the only chance left before you and satoru have to separate ways. but as you recalled it, he mentioned that his supposed to be ex was 4 months pregnant and you were just on you were just on 12 weeks, equivalent to more or less than 2 months. it was her advantage.

"it'll be fine." you said as you sighed.

"you always say that."

"so, this is it?" you said as you stand across each other and satoru looked to his side and he was caught off guard when he felt you hold his hand, he took note of your cold hands.

you placed the wedding ring on his palms as you forced to close it.

"no." he said as he placed it back on you after removing his own ring. "i want you to keep it. for us." he said.

"okay." you said, turning around as you placed his ring and yours inside your bag.

"(name)." he called as you looked back. "i'm sorry i broke my promise, to have a happy family with you." he said and you wanted to tear up but you reminded yourself that it's not the right time to as you smiled at him.

"find me in another life then we can have a happy family there." you joked as both of you laughed.

is it normal to be like this with each other as if satoru hadn't just got his ex pregnant? as if both of you just haven't came out of the court after signing the divorce papers?

"i'll come and visit when i can." he said, and you hoped he would keep his words this time.

"okay."

"for the last time. i love you." you do too, but this time, you didn't say it back anymore.

"don't you think sanyu is a good name for our child?" satoru said as you look up at him.

"do you want to have one?"

"i'd love to have a happy family with you."

"is that so? but why sanyu?"

"sanyu means happiness. it means we are happy that we have him." he said as you chuckled in response.

"and how are you so sure that it would be a boy?"

"instincts."

his instincts was right. you had a son with him and you named him sanyu.

unfortunately, when sanyu turned a year of age, it was found that he had a very weak heart. there wasn't a day where you and your son doesn't visit a hospital. he was just a kid but they already wanted to take him away from you.

"mama." sanyu called. there were a lot of tubes that was connecting his body and it hurts to see your son suffer like this. you always hoped that it was you suffering instead of sanyu.

"yes?" you responded as you sat on the nearby chair.

"papa? where?" he curiously asked and your heart couldn't hurt more. you were lying to your child all this time, that his father was not around because of his job. you'll have to explain it to him when he grows up though.

you held sanyu's hand on yours as you softly caress it.

"papa's not here. he's very very busy!" you said as sanyu frowned. "don't worry, papa will see you soon, okay?"

"okay. love love mama, papa."

you bit your bottom lip as you stared at your contacts. your eyes switching from the phone to the surroundings as you slowly became anxious.

his contact was still in your emergency. you took a deep breath but in the end, you just couldn't dial his number, proceeding to call the person below his contact as you place the speaker close to your ear.

"hello?" you said as you heard a small gasp from the other side of the phone.

"hey, how are you? we haven't seen you since."

"i'm doing fine, thank you for asking, geto."

"what's the matter? why'd you call all of the sudden?"

"satoru." you said as you paused, gathering some courage left in you. "um, how is he?"

"well– he's doing good."

"he is, huh?" you mumbled. "can i ask you a favor, please?"

"of course. is it about satoru?"

"kind of?"

"alright, but satoru's a very busy man now, that's why it's gonna be hard to contact him these days."

oh.

"don't worry, it's not about that. can you– can you come here at the hospital? i'll send you the address and explain it to you later."

suguru arrived earlier than you expected it to.

"i'm sorry for calling out of the blue." you said as you approached him on the front desk.

"it's fine." suguru said as he shrugged. "why here at the hospital? are you sick?"

"i'm not. come, follow me." you said and suguru silently obliged as you finally stopped at a certain door. suguru noticed your discomfort as you slowly opened the door.

"mama!"

"hi baby. i brought someone." you said as you approached your son.

"what?" suguru mumbled in disbelief and he was left frozen on the door, his eyes widening. it was like a child version of satoru was infront of him.

"papa?" sanyu asked as he tilted his head to the side.

"i'm sorry, sanyu. i can only bring papa's friend." you said, your heart aching as your son frowned.

"sanyu?" suguru asked as he approached the two of you.

"i'm sanyu!" your son exclaimed and once again, suguru could only sigh in disbelief.

"how old is sanyu?" suguru asked when both of you left the room to grab a drink outside.

"he's 4 years old."

"does satoru know?"

"no."

"then tell him." easier said than done.

"you know i can't." you mumbled. "the favor–" you said as you faced suguru. "can you tell sanyu about his father? i just couldn't.." you mumbled as you played the can of the drink with your thumb.

"alright." suguru said and you smiled at him in return.

"thank you so much. it's just.. the doctors said he doesn't have enough time to–" you paused as you wiped your tears with your sleeves. "sorry for asking you this, geto. you are the closest to satoru, that's why."

"i understand, don't worry about it too much."

"i just couldn't tell satoru. i want sanyu to know what he wants to know. i couldn't tell him because i'm scared that i'll tear up once i mention his father to him. they said sanyu's running out of time.. i don't know– i'll just have to accept it nonetheless." suguru looked at you in pity as he embraced you.

"don't think about it, okay? sanyu will live and so satoru will know about it. i'll help you with it, 'kay?"

"okay, thank you.."

"you look like your papa."

"really?!" sanyu exclaimed happily as suguru hummed in response. "mama said papa is busy.."

"it's true, that's why i am here to tell you about your papa." sanyu looked at suguru hesitantly as he proceeded to ask a question.

"hmm.. is my papa good?" sanyu asked as suguru looked at you.

"he is. and he loves your mama so much."

"then why is he always busy?"

"sanyu." you called him, indicating to not ask those type of questions as he frowned.

and so sanyu asked a lot of things about his papa like what's his favorite color, favorite food, what he hates the most and many more, and you were thankful that suguru was there to answer it all when you couldn't.

"thank you, geto. i somehow feel at ease now."

"why don't you tell satoru about this?" suguru said as you started to zone out. should you? or should you not?

part of you believes that satoru has the right to know but part of you doubts it. satoru have a family now, a family without you. how would people think if they found out the owner of the famous company has a son from another woman?

you were once married to satoru, it was a mistake to let him take responsibility of his ex' pregnancy but, she was already at her 4 months of pregnancy while you're on your 12 weeks, she's clearly at the advantage.

"i'll try." you said as you embraced yourself for warmth.

"he's free around this time every thursdays." suguru said and you only nodded at his words.

satoru was on his way to his office and he thought he caught a glimpse of you and, he wasn't wrong, it was really you.

"(name)?" you were startled at the voice as you placed your phone behind you.

"gojo–"

"i hate it when you call me that. call me satoru." he said, frowning at you as you laughed nervously. "you look tired. what's–"

get straight to the point.

"are you busy?" you asked, cutting him off.

"well.." he placed his palm on his nape as he looked behind your shoulders.

"dad!" a voice called as a kid you haven't saw in your life appeared beside him. "what's taking you so long? mom's waiting."

"i'm sorry (name)."

"no, it's fine." you said, smiling at him and satoru knew better than anyone that your smile was forced.

"who's she, dad?" the kid asked. this must be satoru's child.

"an old friend, sanyu." satoru said as he looked at you and he wonders what made you look surprised. "go ahead first, i'll follow after you." he said as his son started to walk away.

"sanyu, huh?" you said as you looked behind his son's retreating figure.

"yeah. sorry about that." satoru said.

"why?"

"i don't know. but it was supposed to be our son's name."

"that's all in the past now." you didn't mean to sound harsh but something just hurts.

"right."

"i'll take my leave then." you said, every step you take makes your heart ache as an apology for you son slipped out of your mind.

"(name)." he called once again as you stopped in your tracks but you didn't face him.

"you were right when you said i'll thank you someday." he mumbled and you knew very well that he was smiling as you gulped the lump in your throat. "so thank you. i am the happiest father, ever. even if–" he paused and you didn't respond. it was like he was rubbing a salt in your wound as you heard him sigh. "see you then." he said as you felt his hand on your shoulder for a moment before his footsteps disappeared, and then you took your leave after, going back to your son, who was waiting for your arrival.

but, why was this happening to you? of all people?

"hold onto mama's hand, mhm?"

"mama, sorry."

"mama's sorry too, i promised that you'll see papa but–" sanyu shake his head, something like disagreeing to your apologies.

"it's okay, mama." sanyu mumbled, the sound of the monitor beeping slowing down as you hold onto his hand tight. this happened before already, he will get back to normal soon, you were sure.

"mama loves sanyu, papa too. always remember that, okay?"

"hey (name)!" suguru called from the distance as he approached you. "what are you doing outside? oh by the way, i was wondering if i can bring shoko too? she would be delighted to see a carbon copy of satoru." suguru chuckled but he noticed that you were quiet, your hand was between your thighs as you stare at the ground.

the door opening caught your attention as the doctor came out after what it seemed like a year as he slowly shake his head left to right.

"i'm sorry ms. (name) but your son didn't make it."

"but you said he'll be fine! i am paying enough why couldn't you–!"

"i'm very sorry. we already did what we can." you were about to start an argument when you felt a hand on your shoulders and the doctor bowed at you before leaving.

and it all came crashing down as your body lost its strength, unintentionally leaning on someone, which was suguru.

"what am i supposed to do now?" you asked, the emotions you've been keeping all this time was starting to go out, all at once. "sanyu's all i have." you didn't even care if people watch as they walk pass by. "what should i do now, satoru?" you mumbled, voice breaking as you call the name of the person that wasn't even around.

"my condolences, (name)." suguru had managed to calm you down as he handed you a bottled water and sat beside you.

"i've decided to cremate sanyu. it hurts but it'll be for the best so.. so i could keep him near me." you said.

"i'll support your decision but i think you should tell satoru about it."

"no." you said, your tone was strict but it was quick to dissipate as you clutched the bottle in your hand. "i went to his workplace yesterday."

"what happened?" suguru asked.

"his son's name is sanyu too. i'm guessing you know it?" you asked as his breath hitched silenty.

"yeah." he mumbled.

"well, it was the name he wanted when we were still planning." you mumbled as you smiled at the memory. "geto, i trust you not to tell anyone about this. it's just you and me who know this, okay?"

"i'm sorry but–" suguru paused. "i told shoko about it." you were surprised at first as you sighed at him.

"it's fine. i trust shoko too."

"yeah, sorry about that but– i was really hoping that you tell satoru about it because–"

"there's no need. thank you for telling my child everything he wanted to know, geto. i owe you."

"listen–"

"geto, as much as i am thankful for you, please understand that i don't want to hear things regarding satoru anymore." you said as suguru nods in response, feeling bad for pushing you when your still mourning for your lost and now that you had lost your only strength to continue living, what should you do now?

#nana.gumi #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk angst #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru angst #gojo angst #satoru angst #satoru x reader

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changbinsboiledegg · 4 months

Note

skz with a very needy!sub??? 👀

btw your so cool i could give you a big smooch on the cheeks please never stop being cool

Thank you for thinking I am cool. What are we?

GN? Reader X SKZ

(Tried to keep some terms general, if that makes sense. No specific body parts were mentioned except for, yk, d1ck.)

MDNI!!!!!!!!

Warning: Dom x Needy Sub dynamic?, swearing, usage of vulgar language, teasing, some are hard doms, some are soft, usage of seggs toys, semi-public seggs mention, smut (only a little), protected or unprotected seggs— that’s up to you. Lol.

Note: I’m so sorry this is late, it’s been a shit month (year). I’ll learn to spell s*x properly when I’m rich. Until then, it’s SEGGS. (Joking) But regardless, here you go lovely. As always, if no one has told you, Ilyyyy 🫶🫶 If you see any typos, please bypass them I'm sorry.

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

Chan

He doesn’t give in easily when you’re very needy. Surely you’re aware of this by now.

But that doesn’t stop you from trying everything under the sun to turn him on and need you just as much as you needed him.

“Please!” You begged, literally on your knees in front of him. He just looked down at you, unphased.

“Please what?” His gaze held you captive.

“Please…” you couldn’t finish that sentence, you brain turning to mush. You mentally cursed, hating that he made you nervous after you so confidently stripped in front of him slowly.

“Come on. Can’t fuck you if you don’t know what you want.” Chan stood firm on his role as your dom.

“Please fuck me.” You finally mustered out, meeting his gaze. Chan smirked.

“Well, since you asked so nicely.”

Lee Know

Minho knew you were needy when it came to sex, but he specifically knew when you were needy.

He always knew what to do to make your neediness increase. He loved seeing you get so turned on.

Of course, he wasn’t evil. He always gave you the satisfaction you wanted, however, he definitely was going to play with you first.

You squirmed in your seat, trying to control your breathing as Minho remotely controlled the vibrator inside of you. He continuously changed modes, either sending you close to the edge or fueling your need for more.

“Had enough yet?” Minho asked. It was clear that he enjoyed teasing you. You whimpered as the vibrations send shivers through your body.

“I want you!” Your tone a pleading one. Minho took in the sight of you for a moment— a complete mess for him by him.

“I guess you’ve earned it. Come here.”

Changbin

When you were needy, Changbin didn’t waste a second. He wanted to give you what you wanted while still being in control.

You came to him, being extra clingy, knowing the second Changbin became just as touchy with you, he would make you feel so good that you would have trouble remembering your name for the minutes that followed.

You started out slow, mindlessly playing with his hand before it ended up resting on your thigh. Then slowly, he’d find himself sliding it towards your inner thigh, gripping and squeezing the flesh under.

Then he’d feel the result of your neediness and within a few seconds, he’s inside of you, taking you hard to satisfy your neediness.

At least in that moment, that is.

Hyunjin

He’s used to your neediness by now and even enjoys the fact that he’s able to turn you on without having to do anything.

He loves seeing the way you react to his actions, no matter how simple. Hyunjin doesn’t like making you wait, though.

One minute he’s running his fingers through his hair, the next he has you bent over and taking him so well, you forgot about everything troubling you.

“Hnng! Hyun-Hyunjin!” You felt his hand clasp over your mouth as he took you harder— faster.

“Shh, don’t want the others to hear you cum, right?” He whispered sharply close to your ear. You shook your head, but in the back of your mind, you thought about how you wouldn’t mind anyone else hearing how good he’s making you feel.

Han

“Can we sneak to the bathroom or somewhere private?” You asked Jisung, feeling particularly needy that day. Turns out you tend to feel needy at the wrong times.

“Why? What happened?” Jisung was oblivious at first, showing genuine concern. He thought you were having a good time at this party, and you were, but you wanted a different kind if fun.

“It concerns your dick.” You whispered, feigning innocence for the partygoers around you two. By the look on his face, he seemed just as needy to be inside of you in some way.

“Okay, I see now…” he immediately looked towards the nearest bathroom. “What if someone hears—“

As soon as you caught his gaze, you pulled him towards the bathroom. Jisung chuckled, “you know I’m in control, right?”

“This isn’t about control,” you shut the door and locked it, then immediately lowered to your knees. “It’s about need. And I need you now.”

Felix

You’d begged all day, the need for him to touch you in any way that he could was gnawing at you.

And still, Felix continued to tease you, making you beg more just for begging in the first place.

“Felix, please. I’m going to die if you don’t—“

Felix drowned your next words out by crashing his lips onto yours, his hand cupping your jaw just enough to keep your head in place, but not to hurt you.

“Tell me, darling. What is it you want exactly?” Felix’s breathy voice filled your ears once his lips departed yours.

“I need you. Whether it’s inside of me or-or…” you were trembling. Not from fear, but from the aching feeling between your legs. Felix kissed you again, softer this time.

“Lay back. I think you’ve earned it now.”

Seungmin

“No.” Seungmin said, not wavering in his response to your neediness. He knew you’ve been in a constant state of arousal since the event started but he wasn’t about to cut it short just to give in to your desires— or his, for that matter.

You felt a wave of disappointment but understood. You just wished he would do something immediately.

Seungmin looked over at you and discreetly placed his hand on your thigh underneath the table you two were sat at.

“Don’t look so sad. I’ll reward you when we get home.” He winked before gently squeezing your thigh, leaving shivers of need running up and down your body.

“Can you hold out for another hour?” He added in a low whisper, “or are you going to be impatient like last time?”

You wanted so badly to answer ‘yes’ to the second question, knowing your release would be delayed, but at least he’d start immediately.

But your patience always earned you the best orgasms. Fuck. You had to think carefully, and Seungmin was awaiting your response with a half raised eyebrow.

“I can hold out.”

Seungmin smirked, “good.”

I.N

Jeongin was never one to make you wait or delay your release whenever you were particularly needy for him.

Sometimes you wondered who was the dom and who was the sub.

of course, when you two were alone, you were reminded of your role as he filled you up while his hands tightly gripped your wrists, pinning you down into the mattress.

Even as he pounded into you, your body feeling the shocks of relief from the pent up tension between you two, you still felt needy for him.

“Ohmygod—“ you gasped, leading into a wordless cry of pleasure as you felt that familiar knot building up in your stomach.

“You’re so cute. You act like this is the first time I’ve fucked you like this.” Jeongin grunted, his pace unrelenting.

You knew by now that you were in for a long night.

#stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids reactions #skz reactions #skz scenarios

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lianaisabsent · 11 months

Note

Hiiii :)

Your writings are really nice, in looking forward to see more pieces of your work. Could I maybe request reader(gn or female if possible) taking care of sick Fyodor? If not, that's completely fine too.

Take your time, and please take care of yourself too.

Good night/day!

Taking care of them while their sick

A/n: hello! Thank you for requesting! I usually write more than one character sometimes so I hope it's okay with you that I didn't just write Fyodor, and you're very kind take care of yourself as well!

CHARACTERS: Fyodor, dazai, chuuya

Fyodor Dostoevsky

He may be smart but he didn't calculate himself falling ill

He doesn't show it though, acts like its fine because he needs to still "Carry out his works for his ideal world"

You did end up finding out by nikolai that he's sick and you decided to tell him to rest.

“I did not need you to come and help me”

It was night time when you decided to visit Fyodor with something to eat, nikolai ended up slipping up about how Fyodor was sick in a conversation you both were having. You packed egg soup for him and some fruits and medicine to take with you because you doubt he had any facilities for you to work with in his rat filled basement.

As you entered the place, you knew Fyodor was known of your presence and decided to just walk inside. He was still working and monitoring things and you could only sigh in result. 'even when sick all he thinks of is being a world wide terrorist' you thought as you made your way behind him tapping his hat. “oh, you're here already” Fyodor said with a slight hoarse voice and you noticed cold sweats breaking out on his forehead.

“take a brea-” you were rudely interrupted by a simple “no” you sighed and looked around, the place was already congested and felt like it was going to collapse at any moment, no wonder he was sick. “if you don't take a break, you might end up having a worse outcome and your well thought out plan might have miscalculations in it and it might just fail, all because you didn't take care” you spoke sternly because talking sweet to him was not going to work so you had to persuade him through his plans.

He agreed to resting for a while so you made him lay down and drink the soup you made and when you took out the thermometer, you found out he had high fever

“how long ago did you even see the light of outside?” “a month ago” “...”

You did take care of him, fed him medicines and for a few seconds he even appeared slightly vulnerable due to the sickness because he held your hand as he slept for a while. You placed a blanket on top of him and patted his head.

Needles to say, He might have liked the attention

(I'm sorry if it was off I'm not very sure how Fyodor lives or if he even had a bed)

Dazai osamu

He is very dramatic. He will make sure everyone in the agency knows he's sick so he can stay home.

He does act more vulnerable during his sickness so he tends to want to stay home in general.

You found out about it from dazai himself when he called you about his reports. “why haven't I done them? Well.. Because I'm sick!”

It was a normal day in the agency after you finished up work, you gave all the reports from your last mission to kunikida and left the agency. You remember dazai saying he's sick so you decided maybe you should pay him a visit and see if he's doing well or not.

As you walked up to his place you knocked once, waited, twice still waited.. One more time and still waiting.. ‘he's seriously not going to open is he?’

You "threatened" to break the window if he wouldn't open and the door flung open in one smooth motion. “sweetheart I can't afford repair for a broken window!” dazai slumped around dramatically while you only shook your head with a slight smile.

He let you in and you saw the horror that was dazai's apartment.. Alcohol bottles everywhere and unwashed dishes and a weird smell of hot sweat. You slowly turned to dazai not even shocked because you expected this to some extent.. But not to this extent.

You cleaned the place up a bit and opened the windows and curtains and dazai hissed as if he was some vampire allergic to the light.

you made him lay down and took some water in a bowl and a clean cloth, dipped it in the water and laid it on his forehead. You made him some soup and made him drink that along with herbal tea you brought from the store. “can I get a kiss?” “I'll kiss you if you recover soon”

His bandages came undone at some point but you didn't look because you knew he liked his privacy so you only brought him the first aid kit and left him alone for that. When he called you back he hugged you and went to sleep.

Nakahara chuuya

He's not one to not tell you, he did end up telling only you that he's sick though.

He let's you care for him and he doesn't have the energy to say much when he's sick

Acts like a child

When he told you he was sick your first reaction was to band him from having wine. You went over to his house and made him drink a bitter herbal mixture. He almost puked it out if it wasn't for your threat to break his wine collection. He wanted to argue but his voice was in no shape to even speak.

He hugged you even though you told him that you have things to finish up, he asked you for everything from giving him water to making him something. He reminded you of a cat who asks it's owners for food and acts all high and mighty.

His place is always fairly neat so you wondered how he got sick, “long story short I almost drowned and I got out but I started sneezing and I ended up with this” “oh”

He stayed sick for a few days but luckily with you and kouyou's help he ended up recovering quickly and started arguing with people (people being dazai) so you knew he was better.

#bungou stray dogs #fyodor x reader #dazai x reader #chuuya x reader #bsd fluff #dazai fluff #nakahara chuuya #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #dazai osamu

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leilani-lily · 2 months

Text

~Oh Deer~ (Chapter 5)

I'll admit, I had this finished a while ago, but couldn't post until now. I have a confession to make... my long term boyfriend of 6 years split with me a couple days ago. And it's been... hard, to say the least. I'm really hoping this wont deter me from continuing to write (especially since this story is kinda romantic, but also isn't? There's deep feelings involved xD) I hope maybe writing can maybe help me as it serves as a distraction? I honestly don't know... All I can ask for is patience as I deal with this. If I find I need a break I'll be sure to let you guys know. But I guess for now, please keep me in your thoughts if you can. Or if anyone wants to swap stories I'm more than happy to share. ꨄ But ok. Enough sadness. This chapter was a joy to write before all the bs happened. I hope it can make you smile! And as always, please feel free to comment your thoughts! SYNOPSIS: AroAce! Alastor x Chef!Singer! Reader. You settle into hotel life, and whip up Alastor's fave dish! But some drama ensues when you get a little too friendly with a certain Spider Demon~ Word Count: 4.4 K Chapter under the cut! ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You had developed quite a routine here during your time at the hotel, and you certainly found your days a lot busier than you had intended.

Your morning coffee with Alastor that usually blended into breakfast, then joining him in his tower for his broadcasts. He’d always pour two glasses of rye whisky and sit with you, asking for your thoughts afterwards. You’d discuss what you liked and didn’t like, and were surprised to learn he took criticism well (other than the occasional eye twitch). You’d bounce off new topics for future shows together before wrapping up and heading back down to the kitchen for the lunch rush.

After lunch was usually when Charlie would want to round everybody up. Either discussing how to make the hotel more liveable, how to recruit more sinners, or various exercises to improve everyone’s character. Sometimes these meetings were very boring and you’d have to pinch yourself constantly to stay awake. But for the most part they were fun, and you found yourself actually enjoying spending time with everyone. Especially goofing around with Angel and Husk, which usually resulted in Vaggie snapping at you all as you choke back laughter. Sometimes you would catch Alastor watching you with an unreadable expression, but you didn’t think anything of it.

When that would wrap up, it was time to whip up dinner. You managed to figure out everyone’s favourite foods, and every Friday you decided you’d rotate through and make someone’s special dish for them. Everyone enjoyed Friday dinners, always trying to guess what everyone liked, make bets on who was next, and were especially pleased if it was their night. It wasn’t much, but their praise always made you secretly feel warm and bubbly inside.

Finally, after cleaning everything up and ending your shift, you’d have some spare time. Depending on how the day went, you would either read and have a quiet night to yourself, or just completely pass out straight away.

Before you knew it, a month had flown before your eyes; bringing you into the present.

You knew you had no reason to be so nervous. Angel had loved his lasagna dish last week, and previously Charlie loved the pizza you had made (even if others had picked off the pineapple in disgust). You had proven you were a good chef since working here. But this Friday meal in particular… this one was different. It was Alastor’s. Your closest friend. And you knew just how important this particular meal was. It wasn’t just a dish, it was a memory. A way to remember his mother, and you had learned very quickly just how much she meant to him.

Your heart was fluttering nervously as you put the jambalaya out on the large dining table. No one was there yet, but you could hear the chitter of excited demons coming closer to you, so you knew they were on their way. You always tried to make Friday’s dinner special, it was the one meal where you all sat and ate together. Kind of like a little family. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, your heart fluttering warmly at the thought. You went back to the kitchen to grab the cheddar biscuits, your mind wandering back to Alastor. You shouldn't be overthinking this, it’s just a stupid dinner. Did his opinion really matter that much to you?

You re-enter the dining room, and your eyes immediately locked with the demon in question. Alastor’s smile seemed to brighten the moment he saw you, but his smile only made your hands sweaty.

…… Yes, yes his opinion really did matter that much. You really wanted to make a good impression.

“Ooooh and ya baked fresh biscuits??” Angel had zipped up beside you, eyeing the plate of goodies in your hands, “ya really know how ta spoil a demon Baby Cakes!” His fingers danced over a biscuit, causing you to snap out of your hold with Alastor and give Angel a quick slap on the wrist. He zipped his hand away in mock horror, making you snort a moment.

“You know the rules; no eating ‘till everyone’s here,” You scold him, but you can’t help but smile; you could never really be angry with him. Angel groaned dramatically, hugging himself with his four arms.

“You’re a cruel mistress y/n; makin’ a cutie like me practically starve to death! Jus’ look at me! I’m witherin’ away!” he leans up against you, arching his back as his full weight pressed on you. You let out a single laugh as you tried to maintain your hold on the plate and not fall over. He continued to groan weakly as his one arm grasped the air above him and another flopped over his eyes.

Wow. Someone give this guy an award. No wonder he was in show business.

You laugh again at the dramatics and roll your eyes. Finally, you sighed and grabbed a biscuit, offering it to the Spider Demon. Angel peeked over and immediately lit up, grabbed it eagerly before standing up straight, miraculously recovering from his ‘near death’. He took a deep whiff of the warm bread before smiling back at you.

“Yarra real doll toots~” he gives you a flirty wink to which you shake your head in amusement. Always the charmer this one.

“Yeah yeah, well, just don’t tell the others. Or else they might think you’re my favourite~!” You swing your hips to him and give him a playful hip bump, winking right back. He laughed as the nudge pushed him to the side, using the momentum to walk to his seat. But as he sauntered away, he looked back and grinned mischievously.

“Well maybe they should~!” he called back, doing a little suggestive shoulder shimmy and wiggling his eyebrows. You couldn’t help your snort. Cheeky thing.

You knew it was all in good fun; teasing and play-flirting had become your thing. He was like the gal-pal you had never had since coming to Hell, and you could tell he was happy to have a girlie here at the hotel. You knew his real bestie was some demon named Cherri (which he INSISTED you all had to go out one night), but having another chica just a couple rooms down from his own was fun and convenient. And you were happy to be that friend for him if it meant slumber parties and beauty routines.

You felt someone’s eyes on you, and you snapped out of your bubbly thoughts. Alastor was standing in the same spot he was before, not having moved an inch. He was still smiling, but this time it felt a little more strained. More forced. And his eye twitched ever so slightly. You also noticed his grip tight around his microphone. He caught you looking at him and immediately turned away, beginning to walk back to his seat with an unreadable expression.

… That was weird.

Before you could even begin to process, the rest of the gang entered the room. They all gave you a greeting in their own quirky ways as they arrived and made their way to their seats. Angel shoved the rest of the biscuit into his mouth to hide any evidence and happily trotted over to Husk. You smiled happily at the arrival of your comrades and set the tray of bread down on the table. Everyone looked at the spread before them and chittered excitedly, impressed with the effort you had put into tonight’s dinner.

As everyone sat down, you quickly made your way to your seat beside Angel. Before sitting down, you cleared your throat a moment to get everyone’s attention. As the happy chatter died down, you began to speak.

“First off, I’d like to thank everyone for joining in today’s special dinner. Today’s meal is inspired by our very own Facility Manager, Alastor.” Everyone clapped politely and Charlie even gave a small whoop of encouragement. Alastor sat up proudly from his seat at the head of the table, loving the attention he was getting.

“I’ll admit, I was a bit intimidated with tackling this particular dish, as we’ve all heard him boast about his mother’s recipe.” There were a couple chuckles scattered around the table, everyone very aware of how much he spoke of it. Husk in particular rolled his eyes and muttered quietly in disdain.

“I realize I’ll probably never meet up to her standards,” you look back at Alastor and give a sheepish smile, “but I sincerely hope it’s to your liking.” Alastors smile widened ever so slightly, his hooded gaze softening at your words.

“My dear,” he marveled, his eyes never leaving yours, “the fact that you were kind enough to take the time to prepare it with me in mind already makes it wonderful.” You felt your hand press up to your chest, your fist curling up tightly near your heart. Alastor always knew what to say to make you feel better. He could be really gentle when he wanted to be.

“Yea, and not only for ol’ Smiles ‘ere,” Angel spoke up, making you look down at him, “But you’ve made some bitchin’ good meals fer all of us.” he gestured to the crowd, gaining various murmurs of agreement and praise. You looked at everyone and their smiling faces and could feel your chest tightening.

“Seriously, Sugar, ya freakin’ amazing.” Angel continued, giving you a warm smile. He suddenly grabbed onto his glass and raised it high, giving everyone a cocky grin. “Let’s hear it for y/n ya filthy sinnars!”

Before you could comprehend, everyone had raised their glasses and gave a cheer of encouragement. You looked out to everyone and their genuine happiness and support, at a loss for words. You had organized all of this simply because you wanted to, but you had to admit, being recognised felt really good. A warmth began to spread into your chest, and a lump formed in your throat.

It… wow, it had been so long since you’ve had friends like this.

You did your best to blink back tears at the gesture, not expecting to get so emotional over all of this. As you took a moment to acknowledge everyone, your gaze finally turned to Alastor.

Oddly enough, he wasn’t looking at you, but he was looking at Angel. His eyebrows were tight as his grin stretched in an uncomfortable smile. You could tell he felt your gaze, cause soon his eyes flicked up to you, catching you watching him. In the blink of an eye, his expression softened as he grabbed his own glass, raising it high and giving you a heartening look. You shook the strange feeling from before and smiled back at him, grateful for his appreciation.

The excitement settled down as everyone started serving themselves, the smell of the cooking becoming too much for everyone to ignore. You finally sat in your chair and reached out for Angel’s hand. The Spider Demon looked to you in surprise for a moment, taking in your smiling face.

“That was really sweet of you to say Angel,” you whispered, your grip on him tightening for a moment. You could feel yourself choking up again. “Seriously… Thank you.” Angel's face softened as he twisted his hand so it could grip on to yours. He began to open his mouth to respond.

In a mere moment, you could feel your chair lurch backwards, a panicked yelp escaping your throat as your hand was ripped out of Angel’s. Everyone immediately stopped what they were doing, looking at you in surprise. Angel turned in his seat and looked at you stupidly.

“... What the fuc-?”

Angel didn’t even get a chance to finish his statement as suddenly everyone chairs in your row shifted to the right, causing everyone to cry out and grip onto their seats in fear. Everyone on the other side of the table looked on in disbelief as their friends were shuffled around.

To your surprise, while everyone shifted right, you slid to your left at lightning speed, the chair scraping loudly on the wooden floor. You suddenly jolted to a stop, and you held on for dear life at the force in which you were moving. Before you could recover, your chair lurched forward, propelling you back to the table and new place setting.

… Right next to Alastor.

You gasped in surprise, your heart racing in shock as you felt your knuckles turning white from gripping the seat so hard. You noticed something flicker beneath you, and your eyes managed to catch something. A shadow with a familiar Cheshire grin shimmied away from the feet of your chair before melting into the shade of the table.

Your head whipped up to Alastor in disbelief. The Radio Demon had just finished serving himself jambalaya, not even looking in your direction as he tapped the serving spoon against his plate. With a cool expression, he turned his head to you and tilted his head to the side, as if nothing had happened.

“... Jambalaya~?” He pointed the spoon to the pot and looked at you expectantly.

Everyone stared for a moment, the room eerily quiet.

“.......... Alastor what the actual FUCK was that?!” Angel suddenly exploded, clearly very upset that his bestie was now 2 chairs away from him. Everyone else in your row nodded in agreement, perplexed at the sudden change in seating. Alastor didn't turn his head, nor look at Angel. The Radio Demon simply took your plate and began serving you the ride dish, his expression surprisingly calm and attention only on you.

“Just say when dear~”

Your eyes darted from Alastor to Angel, unsure of what to even do or say. Angel’s face scrunched up into a scowl, clearly displeased with being ignored.

“Hey! Freaky Face! I’m talkin’ to ya!” he growled, his hands tightening into fists. Alastor continued to ignore the spider, continuing to serve you as if it was just the two of you in the room.

“My my, hungry now are we y/n dearest~?” Alastor grinned cheekily. You were still so dumbstruck, your gaze finally fell to your plate and you quickly realized just how full it was getting. Awkwardly looking between Angel and Alastor, you softly murmured a 'w-when'. Alastor gave a hum of approval and tapped the spoon on your plate before setting it back down in front of you.

“Hah, ok Asshole. I see how it is.” Angel chuckled darkly to himself, “I get it. Ya just hate ta see anyone else gettin’ cozy with our little chef. I’ll admit, I didn’t take ya for the jealous type.”

That seemed to catch Alastors attention.

It was only for a moment, and only you were able to catch it sitting so close to him. But you noticed the Radio Demon’s pupils flash, and his one eyelid twitch as his smile grew dangerously wide. But in an instant, Alastor calmed his expression and was back to his suave self. Taking a breath, he finally turned his head to Angel.

“Oh please.” He drawled, his eyes looking at him with boredom, “I simply figured it only made sense for our wonderful chef to sit next to the demon who inspired tonight’s dish. Wouldn’t you agree y/n~?” He turned his head to you and slowly leaned in, giving you a pleasant smile. You felt your heart leap at suddenly being caught off guard, unsure of what to say.

“I, ah, well-!”

Everyone's eyes were on you, and you suddenly felt very self conscious. Being put on the spot like this, and feeling as if you had to choose between your two friends, it was becoming very overwhelming. Unbeknownst to you, Charlie looked at you with such pity, and felt her own blood begin to boil at the situation these men put you in. Placing her hands on the table, the Princess of Hell rose from her chair, her face suddenly very authoritative.

“Both of you need to stop this nonsense.” She stated, looking down at both Angel and Alastor disapprovingly. “Y/n put a lot of effort into making this dinner special; and I won't allow you to ruin it over something so petty!” She continued to glare at them judgingly before turning her attention to you, giving you a quick comforting smile and nod. You felt your shoulders relax and smile back at her, feeling grateful for her support. She really was growing into her royal title.

Angel had his arms crossed and was clearly still pissed, but there was a mix of shame in his eyes after being called out. Alastor’s face remained surprisingly calm, turning to look over at you. He noticed your posture and expression, his eyes calculating as he assessed the situation. Finally he turned back to the table.

“Our Princess is right of course~!” He smiled, lifting a hand and placing it on your shoulder, “I would hate for all of dear y/n’s efforts to be neglected. She has worked so hard; let us forget about all this nonsense and enjoy this wonderful meal~!” His eyes slid to Angels and gave him a hard stare. The Spider demon glared right back, his jaw tight and eyes furrowed with hatred. But after glancing at both you and Charlie, and seeing your faces, he finally grumbled in defeat. With a huff, Angel reached for another cheddar biscuit and slouched in his seat, ending the feud.

You finally released the breath you were holding as everyone shrugged their shoulders and returned their focus to their plates. You felt Alastors grip on your shoulder tighten for a moment, making you turn to him.

“Are you quite alright my dear?” He asked, an eyebrow raised in question. Despite the calm look on his face, you knew he wouldn't be asking if he wasn't genuinely concerned. You sighed and felt a smile spread across your face, giving his hand a pat in reassurance.

“Yeah, I’m ok Al,” you started, beginning to shake your head and grin as you thought about the shenanigans he pulled earlier. “But seriously, there’s no need to be so jealous. If you want to sit beside me, just say so.” You looked up to him playfully, your previously conflicted emotions melting away. Alastor stared at you for a moment, his eye’s lidded and giving you a blank stare before turning to his plate. Removing his hand from your shoulder, he picked up his utensils and was suddenly very focused on his meal.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about y/n~” he replied. He scooped up a spoonful of rice and shrimp. You could feel your eyes crinkling as you watched him knowingly.

“Uh huh~” you smirk.

The Radio Demon ignored you and took his first bit of jambalaya. Your grin slowly began to fall as you watched him pull the spoon out from his lips, your previous nerves from earlier settling in again. You watched his expression with baited breath as he tasted your cooking.

His appearance didn’t change much; his eyes looking down at the food beneath him, eyes flickering over the plate. After a moment, his eyelids sank down closed as he continued to chew, allowing all of his senses to focus on the flavor. You could feel your leg begin to jiggle anxiously; seriously it was sad how badly you wanted this man’s approval.

The demon lifted his head and gulped his mouthful down, eyes still closed and lips in a small pressed smile. You held your breath as you waited for his verdict. Alastor’s smile grew wider as he lowered his head back to the plate, opening his eyes and looking fondly at the dish below him.

“Well well~” he chuckled, finally turning his head to you and giving you an impressed look, “I have to admit, this is as close as anyone has ever gotten.”

You felt your heart stop.

Is he shitting you right now?

“Of course,” he continued, scooping another spoonful and inspecting it, “it is missing a few things; she’d usually add sausage as well, and probably a bit more spice to it.” he looked fond for a moment, seeming to reminisce to days gone by.

“Nevertheless, it does still taste like home~” He took another bite and once again closed his eyes, savoring the flavors.

You felt lighter than a feather.

Of course you knew you’d never get it exactly right. But holy crap you were so relieved that it met his expectations. You were so giddy you had to bite your lip to prevent yourself from squealing, practically doing a little happy dance in your chair. Satisfied with Alastors response, you grabbed onto your own spoon and began to happily dig in.

You were so carefree in your own little world, you didn’t even notice Alastor sneaking a glance at you. Or how his lips curled up ever so slightly at your antics before turning back to his plate.

The rest of the evening went on without a hitch. Everyone gorged themselves until they were ready to burst, and complimented you on such a flavorful meal. You were so flustered with all the praise; despite the little quarrel that had happened earlier, you couldn’t have been more pleased with how the night went. And you felt more confident with your cooking now that you had Alastor’s official stamp of approval.

The group of demons eventually began to trickle out of the room, ready to immediately flop onto the closest comfortable furniture they could find. You giggled at their behavior and wished you could do the same, but you still had to clean up before you could clock off work. With a final stretch, you turn back to the table and are surprised to see Alastor still in his chair, leaning back comfortably and eyes closed.

“Truly a wonderful evening y/n dearest,” he sighed, opening a single eye to look at you, “There’s something about dining with a group of folks that brings out a certain camaraderie, don’t you think~?” You sighed happily as you approached the table.

“Honestly, it was something I had forgotten I had missed since coming to Hell,” you smiled, beginning to stack the plates and collecting utensils. “I’m just happy to do my part in getting demons to open up more and earn everyone’s trust.”

Alastor said nothing in return, simply watching you as you accumulated the dirty dishes. His eyebrow quirked up before he finally raised his hand and snapped his fingers. Shadows emerged from under the table, making you gasp and almost drop your stack of plates. The same shaded goons from your first week at the hotel appeared beside you and began collecting all the dishes. You begin to tumble over words of protests, but they didn’t pay attention to you as they continued to clean, one even grabbing the stack in your hands and waddling to the kitchen.

“Alastor!” you laugh, turning to him in bewilderment, “Call your minions off; seriously I can clean all of this up myself.” But the Radio Demon merely waved a hand to you as he rose from his seat.

“Don’t bother arguing with me my dear,” he sassed, “You’ve done more than enough tonight; consider this my way of thanking you for a marvelous feast.”

You sighed at him, slightly annoyed. But you had to admit, you were grateful for his help. Today had surprisingly taken its toll on you, physically and emotionally, and you were so tired from it all. You smiled up at him, rocking back and forth on your feet sheepishly.

“... Thank you Al. Honestly.” you paused for a moment, thinking about everything he had done for you in the month you’d been here. And asking for nothing in return. It was out of character for him.

“I just…” you sighed, making Alastor tilt his head quizzically to you. “I just want to say I’m thankful for everything you’ve done for me. You gave me this job, helped me settle in and feel comfortable, and because of it all I even got to make new friends…” You saw Alastors eyes narrow for a moment and you had to bite back the knowing grin. You cleared your throat and continued.

“But I hope you know,” you hummed, “that I’ll always consider you my first real friend down here. And that I’m really grateful to have been given this chance to get close to you.”

Alastor looked at you long and hard for a moment, the air between you calm and quiet. His static sound shuffled for a second before he finally straightened his back and stood taller, his lips pressed together into a large smile. The red demon glided over to you, and softly patted your head, shaking his head in amusement.

“Ohhh y/n, y/n, y/n,” he sighed, opening his eyes and quirking an eyebrow, “I do often wonder how someone like yourself ended up down here.” Now it was your turn to cock an eyebrow as you gave him a cheeky smile.

“Al, you know exactly how I got down here.”

“Ah, that’s right.” A chuckle escaped his lips, and you knew for a fact he still found your death thoroughly entertaining. “By the way, you didn’t happen to sneak anything into our meal today, now did you~?” He gave you an impish grin. You burst out laughing.

“You asshole!” you guffawed, shoving his hand on your head away playfully, to which the demon snickered evilly. As your laughter simmered down, looked at you a moment before tilting his head up, eyes closed.

“I still stand by my previous statement,” he mused. “The type of folks in this realm are not worthy of such kindness. You should be careful as to whom you trust around here.” He opened his eyes, and his crimson gaze fell to yours. His expression shifted into a serious one at his last statement, making your grin falter for a moment. But only for a moment.

“Well, it’s a good thing I have you around then, isn’t it?” You smiled, taking a step towards him.

Alastors gaze widened a moment, his eyes flickering over your face. It wasn’t often that you caught the Radio Demon off guard, but the rare moments when you did, you couldn’t help but feel a little pride. Finally, Alastor began to chuckle, shaking his head at you again. After taking a breath, he looked back down at you, a surprising fondness donning his face.

“Hmmm, I suppose it is~”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

..... Alastor doesn't like to share ¬‿¬ Fun fact: Angel like's to give you food-related nicknames. Baby Cakes, Sugar, Puddin', Honey Bunz, ect.

FIRST PREVIOUS NEXT

#hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #alastor #oh deer #leilani lily

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bts-spnlvr12 · 3 months

Text

I Get to Love You

Pairing: PostWar!Levi x Y/n

Summary: It's been months since the Rumbling ended, Levi is finally back home and is living the best life he can right beside you. He still can't get used to having scars and marks all over his body, so you show how much you love him...

~A/N: ⚠️MDNI⚠️ This story will contain mature content, such as smut, swearing, very minor angst, daddy/babygirl kink, mentions of nakedness, mentions of trying for a child, so on and so forth. If you DO decide to interact with this post, it will result in a blocking of your account. You have been warned!!~

~Okay, for the love of fucking gosh. For those who saw the catastrophe from the previous post. I apologize. I made a mistake that at the time I never noticed. But I do ask that if you EVER see me post a story with a fanart that has no credit, PLEASE PM ME about it THE DAY IT COMES OUT so that there are NO ISSUES IN THE FUTURE.~

(RE-POST DUE TO ISSUES THAT WERE PREVIOUSLY FIXED)

Its been months since the Rumbling came to an end, you were excited to live a normal life away from the threat of Titans...

You were especially happy that Levi finally came home, it's been hard for him to get adjusted to everything that's happened to not only the world, but to himself and others he knows...

~Flashback...

It's been a few days since the Rumbling stopped, but you were extremely worried...

Your husband Levi hasn't come home yet, you worried about his safety, especially after the incident with the thunder spear which you were told by Hange...

You were pacing around the living room, trying to keep yourself calm, your hands rubbing your face out of fear of him not returning. Suddenly you hear the handle jiggle slightly, then it opens wide to reveal a tired-looking Levi...

"L-Levi?" You slowly walk over to him so you don't scare him, he looks up at you slowly, showing his wrapped up face and healing sutures. You cover your mouth at the sight, he was still very handsome to you but seeing him with so many severe injuries...

You tear up and pull him into a hug, so thankful that he's finally home and safe from all the horrible things he's seen throughout his life, no more Titans, no more loss of life and no more worrying...

You help him to the sofa and brought him some tea, knowing that it will calm him down after a stressful time...

End of Flashback...~

You looked up as you heard a thumping sound every second, to see your husband walking down the hall with his cane, he pours himself a cup of tea and makes his way towards the sofa...

He sets the cup down then slowly lowering himself right beside you, "Hi baby, how are you feeling?" He shrugs and rubs his knee, "Just in pain for the most part..." You rub his knee gently, "You look like you have something else on your mind, what is it?" Levi sighs then looks at you, "I'm just...trying to get used to everything, how the world is, old comrades both alive and dead, as well as the way my looks have changed drastically..."

"That's all understandable baby, you've learned how to fight your entire life, now with the threat of titans extinguished and coming to your senses about those who've sacrificed their lives for Paradis, and hon, you're still very handsome in my eyes, scars and marks in total..." You smile as you keep rubbing your knee...

"You're only saying that because you're my wife, you'll probably leave me after a while, I'm old and beat up, I'm practically useless..." You get angry at this, of course all in a loving manner; you hated when he talked about himself like this, so you decided what you were going to do to show him how much you adored him...

You remove his shirt to reveal his torso, with defined abs which makes you smile, you start leaving kisses on the spot he's most insecure about, starting from the scars on his face and working your way down...

One look at you

My whole life falls in line

I prayed for you

Before I called you mine

You look back on the past, it took a lot to have this special relationship with Levi, fighting side by side against the titans, sneaking around when you could to see one another, and a lot of trust earning...

Oh, I can't believe it's true sometimes

Oh, I can't believe it's true

I get to love you

It's the best thing that I'll ever do

I get to love you

It's a promise I'm making to you

Whatever may come your heart I will choose

Forever I'm yours, forever I do

I get to love you

You kiss him passionately before moving down and removing his sweats, you see the scarring on his legs from various reasons, kissing each scar, bruise and mark left, looking up at him with such love, taking his hands in yours and kissing each finger, paying special attention to the two he's missing, letting him know you loved him no matter how he looked or what he went through...

The way you love

It changes who I am

I am undone

I thank God once again

You think about all those times you've made love with one another, whether it be passionate or angry. His way of loving you was gentle, but he could tough whenever it was needed but he loved you for you, flaws and all. You were insecure about yourself in the beginning, thinking that he deserved so much better than you, but with all the ways he showed you that you were his and no one could compare to you, changed that view about yourself...

It wasn't easy but he made it easier whenever you had your lows..

Oh, I can't believe it's true sometimes

Oh, I can't believe it's true

I get to love you

It's the best thing that I'll ever do

I get to love you

It's a promise I'm making to you

Whatever may come your heart I will choose

Forever I'm yours, forever I do

I get to love you

He began to tear up slightly as you sang the verse over and over again, kissing him and his tears away as they slipped down his cheeks, he was starting to understand how much you loved him, and how lucky he is to have someone like you to love him for him, flaws and all...

And they say love is a journey

I promise that I'll never leave

When it's too heavy to carry

Remember this moment with me

The line where you promise to never leave his him harder than ever, he's lost so much in his life, his family, comrades. He wouldn't know what to do if he lost you, he'd probably go nuts if you weren't near him...

I get to love you

You climb back up to him and kiss him as passionately as possible, he holds your face gently in between his hands, he is crying tears of happiness, he now understood you'd stay with him for the rest of eternity...

"I love you, Levi Ackerman, scars, marks and all, okay? Please don't ever think about yourself like that again. That fact that I get to Love you, is the greatest part of my life and always will be..." He nods and kisses you passionately, the tears stop flowing and things start getting heated...

"I love you too, Y/n Ackerman, I can say all the same for you, now how about we take this to the bedroom..." You nod and slowly get off of him and help him up, and held hands as you went to your shared bedroom...

Levi is already in his boxers, so he slowly undresses you then lays you on the bed, he then starts kissing down your body; either open mouth kisses, or love bites to let you know you belong to him...

He then lines himself with your slit then looks at you with approval, you nod and he pushes himself in, bottoming out and releasing almost a primal noise...

You wrap your legs around his hips and help him thrust in and out of your core, making you moan loudly from so much pleasure, "I love you so much, god so fucking much..." He says while kissing you feverishly, "Fuck I love you too baby, please make me yours all over again...

He smiles softly and started thrusting into you as if it were the end of the world, you throw your head back from him hitting your spot, "F-fuck! Right there!" He re-positioned himself to where the tip of his cock kept pounding into that spot, which made you see stars...

"Right there? Does that feel good babygirl, you like it when daddy fucks you like this?" You nod the best you could and he leans down and down and sucks on one of your nipples...

You tangle your fingers in his hair and start to notice his movement are becoming erratic, you know he's to his breaking point, "Levi, c-can I ask you something?" He looks up at you, "W-w-what is it?" "Would you be alright with the idea of possibly having a baby?" He slows his thrusts, "W-what? A child?"

"You don't seem happy about the idea, I'm sorry it wa-" He cuts you off with a kiss, "I'm not mad baby, I was just shocked. I want a little Levi or Y/n running around the house, maybe one or two in fact.." You tear up a bit and kiss him passionately, "You would be a great father.." "You would be a great mother as well, darling..."

With that he starts fucking you like he was before, you scratch your nails down his back from his erratic movements, "I-i'm close baby, I'm gonna c-cum!" You agree with his statement and he eventually starts rubbing your clit so you both can climax at the same time, which you both do so loudly and with sloppy kisses...

He releases all of his load and pushes the tip up against your cervix to make sure nothing leaks out, you are breathless as your come down from your high, the same goes for Levi when he kisses you passionately and smiles, "Round 2?"

Let's just say neither of you got rest that night...

#fluff #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman #smut #levi x reader #attack on titan #levi smut #aot #levi ackerman smut #repost #too many issues with the last post due to a SMALL error

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livin4mybabes · 1 year

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We're a team baby, we're in this together // Mason Mount

request: yes thank you for you request ❤ summary: Mason stopped being the hands on dad so when you leave, he started to understand what he lost and what was happened to him. pairing: dadmason! x reader warnings: fights, angst, mention of depression but there's a happy ending words count: 2.01 k author note: My first fic with Mase and im happy with the result -ngl, i'd have liked to make Mason suffer more-, i hope you like it too

" Leave Mason, just leave. You haven't been here for me even less for your daughter when we need you the most. It's not like, if you want to help me or not, it's your fucking job since I got pregnant because you got your fucking dick in me with no protection."

" y/n, please..."

"I'm sorry Mason, but I really need to figure things out."

Several things have happened to get to the point of that fight.

You and Mason have been in a relationship for several years now -you started dating at 17- You've been through many adversities, yet you've stayed together. You moved in together, got engaged and now, you were parents to a beautiful baby girl. A baby girl that you had created with so much love.

Since you found out you were going to be parents, you couldn't help but feel a little insecure about it, taking care of a little one; however, the happiness was bigger. That subject you used to talk about in the evenings had become a reality.

Anyway, Mason was over the moon about it, he was going to have a little princess to take care of. He would fulfill your every whim, and he tried to go to as many doctor's appointments as possible. Not to mention the last few months of your pregnancy, he was practically glued to you the whole time.

The day you welcomed your little baby girl, Riley, Mason was holding her in his arms the whole time, they were attached to the hips.

When you arrived home after leaving the hospital, he was no different, he would change your baby's nappies, while you were breastfeeding, he would sit next to you while holding you around or caressing your little one's cheek. Also, as you could hardly make much effort, he would do the laundry, cook, etc.

Finally, when he returned to training, he would come home as soon as possible so he could help you with everything related to your baby. However, that lasted a few months before it got to the point mentioned at the beginning.

Mason started hanging out with his friends —not that it bothered you because, of course, you can't not let him do that and he deserved a break after the months he'd spent with you— but, suddenly, he started going out frequently, sometimes arriving late, and you hardly saw him anymore because when you woke up, he had already left for training.

He didn't even come home for lunch anymore, you didn't even get calls from him asking about Riley, about you, it seemed like you were on your own.

Riley was sick, she had caught a cold. All night she was hot, her nose was stuffy, she was crying a lot and you really didn't know what to do and Mason, even though he had heard everything in the early morning, didn't even stop to ask you what was going on. As a first time mum it is sometimes very difficult, you had called your mum to let her know that you were going to stay at your old house for a few days, she had asked you the reasons but you told her you would explain later.

First you would take your daughter to the doctor.

You had tried to call Mason but he didn't answer, so you decided to call Ben, maybe he could make him know.

To your misfortune, Ben didn't know where Mason was. He only mentioned to you that he left the club as soon as training was over. That caught your attention as he hadn't even stopped by the house.

You grabbed your house keys and headed to the doctor's, you'd do it without Mason.

It was 7pm when you returned home, no surprise to you, Mason hadn't made it home. You took Riley to her room and then went to the kitchen to get some dinner. When you were done, you went to your room and grabbed a couple of changes of clothes for you and Riley and other essentials things —nappies, dummies, wet wipes—. You'd had enough.

Finally, Mason had arrived home around 9 pm. He left the car in the garage and went into the house and started checking his phone call log, and then he found a lot of missed calls from you, from Ben, from Kai, from his mother.

Had something happened to you?

Mason ran to his room and you got up to confront him.

"Where have you been? Have you just been looking at your phone?" You said as you approached him.

"I couldn't, I've been busy. I went to Ben's, but I just saw that you called me." You couldn't believe it; he was lying to your face.

"Don't lie to me Mason, I've spoken to Ben and he never mentioned you were with him" You pointed at him angrily.

"So now you want to control me and watch me..." "I would never do that Mason! I was looking for you because I needed you, your daughter needed you and you didn't even care! I'm tired."

"What happened to Riley? Is she okay?" Mason said concerned.

"Now apparently you do care" You laughed as you shook your head, you couldn't believe it.

"She's my daughter, of course I care" "No, you don't. If it were true you wouldn't have left us alone all this time."

"But, I- " You cut him off.

“You haven't been here for me even less for your daughter when we need you the most. It's not like, if you want to help me or not, it's your fucking job since I got pregnant because you got your fucking dick in me with no protection."

"Riley, she got cold. Maybe it's not that bad, but you didn't even bother to ask about her like you used to do every day. I can't Mase, not anymore."

"y/n, please..."

"I'm sorry Mason, but I really need time to figure things out and you, to sort things out and be the father that Riley needs." You told him as you cried, he tried to come closer but you pulled back.

"Y/n, baby. Please," Mason said, his voice breaking.

"If you don't go, I'll go. I really, really need time. I'll go to my parents."

With that, you left the house. Your house that held so many memories, but it was a house that was now broken.

A couple of weeks had passed, Mason had come home and found it completely dark and silent as it had been a few weeks since you left. He missed you, so he tried to call you, but he regretted it, maybe you wouldn't answer.

He needed to talk to someone, so he called Ben.

"Mase? Everything ok?" Ben said as he answered.

"It's my damn fault, I've been an idiot these last few weeks, I let them down when they needed me. When it's my responsibility to do it." Ben heard how Mason's voice had cracked.

"What are you talking about? Y/n and Riley are okay?" Ben said worriedly. He had really noticed Mason acting weird a few weeks ago, but he had noticed some recovery in him, but he had never said anything to him, even when he had asked him.

"Mate, mate calm down" Ben was trying to calm his mate down.

"I'm a fucking prick, argh!" Mason said as he sat down on the ground.

""Mate, I know it's none of my business but is everything alright with you guys?"" Ben couldn't help but ask.

"Yeah, well... I don't know, I've been a dick. Y/n probably hates me; I've been really absent at home but I'm working on it."

"But why..." "It's a situation that I had, that I had to work on myself" Mason cut Ben off.

"Mason, I didn't know. I hope you're better," Ben told him.

"I am".

"Go to her house. Go and get them, you can't lose them, they're your family. Try to fix it or you'll regret it, believe me. 'I know you're better now, be the father Riley needs, the fiancé that y/n needs."

"Thanks mate, I will" Mason said, with that, Mason cut the call and headed to your parents’ home. He would fight for you guys; he would fix the bullshit he did.

You were lying on the bed in your old room, resting after a hard day. You were exhausted, being with a little girl who kept crying and you didn't know why. She wasn't sick anymore —you knew because you had taken her to the doctor again and he said there was nothing wrong with her, she was healthy— you didn't know what to do. Maybe she needed and missed her father as much as you did, " shame he's an idiot" you thought.

By now your little girl was asleep next to you in her co-sleeper. You were about to fall asleep when you heard a knock on your door, it was probably your mother asking if you wanted some dinner.

"Come in," you replied, sitting up. When the door opened you expected to find your mother, you were wrong, who was at the door was Mason.

"Mason, what are you doing here?" you asked.

"I came to fix the mistakes I made. I don't want to lose you" Mason approached you.

"Mason..." You said in disbelief.

" y/n, baby. Let me explain please." He said as he looked into your eyes, and you saw his regret. You nodded.

"Well, since Riley was born I've been the happiest man but, these last few months I feel like I'm not enough. That you and she deserve better. And I know this has affected our family, our relationship and I'm sorry I didn't tell you how I felt before. But, somehow, I preferred to avoid it and go out with my friends, because I thought it was stupid.

I want to tell you that I have worked on myself, I have gone to the psychologist and he has told me that it is probably depression, although it is not very common, there is post-partum depression in fathers and apparently that is what happened to me. I am better, I understood what was happening to me, it helped me to seek help, to talk to Ben, and I promise you that I will give you the best version of me". By this time, you were already crying.

"Mase, I'm sorry for everything you've been through. I want you to know that you can always tell me anything you want. We're a team baby, we're in this together.

I'm not going to lie to you that I was angry, disappointed that you acted like that, you left us. And you left me with all the responsibilities because a mother never has time to take a break Mason. It hurt, but, we miss you, even Riley has been crying a lot, I think that's the reason for that," you tearfully told him.

"I apologize too for what I put you through. And it's true what you say, that was selfish of me but believe me I won't hide anything from you, we'll tell each other the way we feel. We can't let this happen again". Mason said that and just Riley started to cry, and the two of you approached her.

"Hello baby, how are you" Mase said as he held her in his arms, she stopped crying.

"See, she missed you, didn't you baby?" you said looking at them.

"I missed you too. I'm never going to leave you, I promise."

"You better Mason" You said pointing at him angrily, but laughing at the same time.

" We shouldn't make mommy Ri mad" Mason said with a sly laugh.

"No, you don't make me mad," you said.

"Okay, okay... Let's go home, we will not be separated again."

With that, you packed your things and returned home, together and with the whole situation sorted out. Finally, your family was back where you belonged.

#mason mount x you #mason mount imagine #mason mount x reader #mason mount x y/n #football imagine #football x reader #football x you #mason mount angst #mason mount fanfic #mason mount request #football imagines #fotballer x reader #chelsea #ben chilwell imagine #mason mount

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lookbluesoup · 1 year

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Hydaelyn in Endwalker

At the risk of looking stupid online I'm going to field my perplexions about Hydaelyn that've been bothering me for months lol This post is... a little Hydaelyn critical. But I do offer that in good faith, I LOVE the character and I'm not trying to just trash her, I'm genuinely interested to hear other perspectives about it. (But please be nice, everyone is entitled to their own take)

Also this is not in response to anyone else's post. I haven't even seen any Hydaelyn posts circulating lately. I'm not vagueing anyone or trying to start drama. Just trying to sort out my own feelings about this character.

So my main takeaway from MSQ was that love is, ultimately, what saves you. That humans (including Ancients!) aren't perfect, and cannot love perfectly, but the shared love of you and others is still what saves you.

And, also, that grief is a part of life. Mistakes are a part of life. Conflict and loss happen, but they need not destroy you. Stand for doing right as best that you can, forgive yourself and keep trying, keep loving - both yourself and others.

There was an incredible amount of emphasis on not judging or hating one's enemies, about accepting the humanity in all of us and coming together, which I really loved.

There was also, of course, a huge rejection of self-sacrifice and martyrdom.

I saw all those themes in the Dark Knight quests a LOT (especially before the English translation changed so many scenes), and I assume Ishikawa was continuing that theme from Shadowbringers onward.

So again! I don't hate Hydaelyn!

But I feel like... at least in the English translation, she is still treated with excessive reverence, like a goddess, by the Scions - even ones it didn't really make sense to after her origin came out, like Y'sthola.

And at least on my first playthrough, while I like Venat a lot and love the drama of the Final Days pushing everyone into points of desperation, to their breaking points, and her decision to sunder the world definitely did ultimately help (help!) make it possible for us to defeat the Endsinger... I dunno.

To me she was still subject to the same arrogance as the rest of the Ancients. Whether her decision paid off or not, she still took into her hands the fate of the entire Star, she still made a decision that would result in millions of deaths.

And if we're going by Hydaelyn's own assertion, that each reincarnation is their own person, not just a missing piece of a whole... then to achieve her goal of a better world, she killed all the remaining Ancients except those three.

She chose to create a world where death and trauma would affect generation after generation - and she can say that it was for the greater good, for the world to survive. But that was essentially the Convocation’s justification too, in creating Zodiark and orchestrating the Rejoinings. Committing genocide to prove that genocide is wrong… is not noble.

The cutscene with her sundering the world, where the people insist they'll return to a world free of sorrow underneath a burning sky, could also NOT be how it actually happened. It had to be representational of her feelings and conclusion. Becoming Hydaelyn took coordination with her followers and planning.

At least in English, idk about the original Japanese, Hythlodaeus's shade describes the time of the Sundering as if the world wasn't in utter ruin at that point. It was beginning to heal, they had restored some natural systems, but the Ancients were short in numbers. At that point, they were done sacrificing their own people, in time they were going to sacrifice other life - plants and animals, to restore those lost brethren.

At the very least, Hythlodaeus's completely different account shows that the two sects of people post-Zodiark were viewing their sacrifice and end goal in completely different ways. Ethics aside, whether the competing goal was achievable or not… we will never know, because Venat stopped it from happening.

But I don't think either recounting has a monopoly on the truth. There was no One Truth, there were just competing needs and perspectives. And though Venat insists that unity is necessary to avert the Endsinger - she perpetuates this division. Azem refused her followers call to help summon Hydaelyn, and I think that's significant.

But I'll also acknowledge that Azem didn't manage to save the Ancients, either.

And you could argue that the Ancients were their own worst enemy. They kind of were.

Hermes was a really, really great caricature of severe, untreated Depression. And he had the powers of a god. His creations were sent to find a specific answer in the world beyond, and like their creator, they didn't have the tools to process hearing an answer other than what they were expecting. They were trapped in their own perspective. He was looking for answers in the stars, instead of in himself. Their own pain and inability to engage with emotion in a healthy way overwhelmed every encounter they had and created the very reality he so feared.

He did not use the proper channels for peer review before sending them out on their mission. Those rules, those checks and balances, that community approach to design, existed to protect the Ancients from their own power, and he deliberately acted in secret. He isolated himself from society, convinced himself his pain was something nobody could understand, made an island of himself and doubled down on his own jaded beliefs.

I don't know what kind of mental health facilities were available to the Ancients - we just don't have that information. But I do know that he was treated with patience and forgiveness by a significant number of colleagues, and his quirks weren't held against him. People did try to help and accommodate him, even if they didn't always understand. He had been promoted to a powerful position. I don't know if it's fair to blame anyone in particular, or even their society, for what happened. Because again... everyone was doing the best they could with what they had.

If anything, the problem was that literally any Ancient could have made a similar mistake in the right situation. They were ALL that powerful. Eventually chaos would happen. Sundered souls can certainly create destruction, but not on the same scale.

I don't personally agree with Hydaelyn's decision not to reach out to the Convocation. I understand being careful, and thinking through what the next step should be before acting. But there's a LOT of "maybes" in this argument:

And ultimately, it's her doing the same thing as Hermes, putting the power of judgement over an entire people in her own hands. She's assuming that she is in a unique position to decide the fate of the entire Star. It's not evil. But it's arrogant. She wasn't special among the Ancients, gifted with some unique wisdom. She was doing the best she could from her own perspective.

Plus... if half your population, and then another half again are about to sacrifice themselves... what have you got to lose by outing Hermes and/or trying to work with the Convocation to avert that loss of life? We don't have all the details, I'm willing to accept that there were circumstances that made it impossible, or at least made Venat decide against trying it. But even so. What did you have to lose leading up to the summoning of Zodiark? There was already panic and destruction at that point.

Hydaelyn sacrificed a lot of people to accomplish her goals. She made a goddess of herself and manipulated people like Minfilia on that basis. She killed so many children and stole so many lives even just by reincarnating Minfilia over and over on the First. She misrepresents the nature of the Ascians to the WoL, keeps secrets, and essentially charges you with being a crusader in her Holy War.

It's Emet- Selch who tries to bridge the gap. Not Hydaelyn. It's him who's willing to consider trying to achieve his goals without bloodshed, if you, the WoL, are strong enough. He says this to himself, out of anyone else's hearing. There's no reason for it to be a lie.

And just before Mt. Gulg, you can see Emet starting to question his beliefs about humanity because of the WoL's accomplishments. Hydaelyn has nothing to do with that. It's all you. And Emet succumbs to his own weaknesses too, so we never get to know what that might have happened if you'd had more time with him. He's not better than her.

But I think it's significant that he's the one who reaches out. Who's willing to consider a compromise at all.

In war you make sacrifices, I get that. But she was not more heroic, somehow, than the Ascians. Both sides were doing terrible things and denying the agency of mortals in order to achieve their ideal world.

So to me... she was not a benevolent incomprehensibly wise mother figure. Much like in real life we go from being kids who trust our moms implicitly, to adults who realize our mother was human and made mistakes, I think we’re supposed to recognize that Hydaelyn didn't do everything right and its our job to carry the future forward for subsequent generations, to learn from what came before, and hope that our own children do the same and forgive us for our own mistakes.

I think its very important to note that the WoL is just as much the Convocation's creation as Hydaelyn's. Without being rejoined as many times as they were, the WoL wouldn’t have survived. She saves you from the Ultima Weapon, Emet-Selch saves you from Elidibus, and its their powers combined that save you and your friends from the Endsinger. You are the legacy of each side’s imperfect love, equally.

WHICH brings me to my point of perplexion. Hydaelyn continues to be venerated. NPCs who know what happened continue to emphasize her side of things. I feel I must be missing something, because to me, the finale of Endwalker essentially shattered any idea that this was a Light vs Dark kind of story. People made choices. People made mistakes. It wasn't good or evil. It was human. We survived in spite of our mistakes because love was more powerful than our imperfections.

The Scions sacrificed themselves one by one just like the Ancients. And got brought back using energy from the Star... not all that different than what the Ascians had planned to do with their own brethren. I just don't see much functional difference there in the sentiments between either side.

I don't think we're supposed to hate Hydaelyn. I don't think she was evil. But I don't think she was better than the Ascians.

So while I don't expect, or want, characters to be condemning her left and right in the narrative, it's still baffling to me that there's such consistent, explicit reverence for her.

#ffxiv #ff14 #hydaelyn #venat #emet-selch #ascians #ancients #meta #shower thoughts #long post #endwalker spoilers #dark knight spoilers #shadowbringers spoilers #text

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ingravinoveritas · 5 months

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I’m excited for the renewal of GO3 but I’m also kind of a little worried for David because he’s been performing McBeth for 6 six weeks now and rehearsals are also killer and now their set to film GO? Just thinking about this exhausts me so I can’t imagine how he would feel (and Michael also for that matter since he’s been rehearsing for his own show). Also, please please PLEASE don’t let GT and AL be in GO PLEASE

Hear, hear, and three cheers to the renewal of GO 3!

All I can say is, it's about damn time we finally got this announcement. I am ineffably thrilled as well to know that we will have our boys back together in Scotland to bring us the resolution to Aziraphale and Crowley's story.

In terms of filming, I did see the press release that said GO 3 filming would begin "soon," but I think "soon" is a relative term here. David's run in Macbeth goes until early February, and then Michael is in Nye at the National Theatre from the end of February until May 11th. So "soon" likely means a good six months from now at the earliest (i.e., mid 2024). Hopefully that means both David and Michael will have time to rest up and prepare for the start of filming GO 3, but I would imagine them both feeling a sense of excitement and anxiety at their forthcoming schedules.

What I think Michael and David likely do not feel anxiety about, however, is the prospect of getting to spend more time with each other. And we know they are already seeing each other at least somewhat regularly right now, what with Michael being in London at the moment, so it stands to reason that Michael and David are going to be frequent fixtures in each other's lives and worlds for a very good portion of the next year. Lovely.

In terms of Georgia and Anna possibly being in S3, I will echo what @thereallovebug previously excellently said, which is that it is very tiring to think that we haven't even had the GO 3 announcement for a day, and already people are calling for them to be cast in the show, and it's just...can we not even fully process/absorb this news before jumping to yelling at Neil to cast people? Or maybe just skip the "yelling at Neil to cast people" part completely? I'm just confused as to why there has to be an immediate call to have them in the show when there may not even be a place for them in it.

I also keep thinking of the discussion that took place when the news about GO 2 first came out, which was that having any family member of Michael's or David's would be distracting, and we saw what ended up happening with Peter Davison and Ty. I thought Peter did very well as Job, but Ty just seemed out of place the entire time and it was like you could "see" him acting instead of just...being, and as a result, his performance did not quite gel with the rest of the scene.

The takeaway point here is that the role of Ennon could have gone to any number of aspiring young actors, talented actors looking for a shot at the big time, but who did not get to have that opportunity due to nepotism. It only makes sense, then, that the same would hold true for GT and AL. And to me, it's disrespectful to the show, to Neil, and to Michael and David at this point to act as if GO 3 is somehow "not good enough" unless GT and AL are in it. As if the thousands of other talented actors in the UK aren't good enough simply because they're not Georgia and Anna. I've been accused on multiple occasions of only disliking Georgia and AL because of who their partners are, but the fact that so many people are only fans of theirs for the same reason is apparently not a problem.

(I will not go into detail here about the myriad of reasons why people are fans of Georgia and AL's because of who their partners are, but I suggest reading this post from @artificial-indulgence, who has perfectly enumerated my own thoughts on the subject.)

It is for the reasons that are mentioned in the post I just linked to that I feel many fans are unwilling to see the reality of things, which is that Georgia is a passable actor, but Anna is not, and any halfway decent casting director is not going to overlook that. I'm thinking back to an Ask I answered yesterday about her being edited out of the photo used for the I Talk Telly Awards and (more significantly) that no one actually seemed to notice that she was missing.

Given that, it's highly unlikely that someone whose performances are so unmemorable would be cast in the third installment of a major global TV show--at least purely based on merit. And knowing how important this third season is, how it's meant to resolve Aziraphale and Crowley's story and give us what Neil and Terry envisioned so many years ago, it would be truly unfortunate to see all of that overshadowed by other things.

But yes, today was very much a day filled with good news (and which I wholeheartedly appreciated, given that I am dealing with some difficult personal issues at the moment). More thoughts to come in a follow up post, so stay tuned...

#phantomstars24 #reply post #good omens #good omens 3 #david tennant #soft scottish hipster gigolo #michael sheen #welsh seduction machine #macbeth #nye the play #georgia tennant #trying to provide a balanced perspective #but i will leave it to my followers to make up their own minds #fandom woes #anna lundberg #thoughts #discourse #gif by me

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nevsdoll · 1 year

Note

PART 2 PLEASE IM BEGGUNG

bad grade pt.2 | professor longbottom

neville longbottom x fem!reader

summary! y/n isn't satisfied with her grades being better because all she wants is the one who writes them - PART 1

warnings; NSFW +18 SMUT! | PROFESSOR X STUDENT !!! | vulgar vocabulary, cheating, "degrading" i think, vaginal sex... (lmk if i missed any!!)

a/n: THANK YOUUUU I HAD SO MUCH FUN WRITING THE FIRST ONE AND I HAD BEEN WONDERING IF I SHOULD WRITE PART 2 FOR DAYSSSS!!!! i hope you guys like it (⁠๑⁠•⁠﹏⁠•⁠)♡

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

two months past since that day at the greenhouse and your grades improved from a zero with a poorly drawn sad face to a eighty with a "well done, miss y/ln" everytime he handed you the results of last written-test.

but even if your grades were better and everyone seemed to be proud of you, you couldn't care less about those numbers.

you wondered if that's what he wanted from you. you wondered if he thought about you all the time like you did with him. you wondered if maybe, just maybe, if yours marks started going down once more, your very loved professor, neville longbottom, would want to touch you help you again.

that day professor longbottom had to give out the results of last quiz. a quiz you purposely wrote the answers wrong. he stepped in front of you handing you the paper. "y/n, i would like to see you at the end of the class." you had been waiting for him to say those words to you, but when it happened you had a bittersweet feeling. he didn't look disappointed he just looked angry. the paper didn't have a sad face drawn, just a zero on top with a overly red dot beside it that indicated he had his pen placed on the same spot for a while.

during the day, your mind was going back and forth on the same thoughts and your hand no longer between your thighs but close to your lips trying not to bite each nail off your fingers in regret on what you had done.

finally, you knocked on the greenhouse door just before entering with a softly "good afternoon, professor". just as last time, his eyes were focused on a plant and your call made him turn.

"good afternoon, y/n. come, sit here..." he sat on a chair next to were he indicated while watching you do as he said. you took a deep breath and opened your mouth with the intention of apologizing. "you know? what i found most interesting is the way your explanations are perfect but then the conclusion is wrong" he looked at you with a serious look.

you played with your hands and started speaking, "i'm sorry, professor, i thought that-"

"i know what you thought, y/n" he said with a dry tone. neville looked at you and took your chin with his fingers, making you rise your face to his. "how is it that a clever girl like you would do something so stupid?" your legs clenched together at those words. slowly, the professor started caressing your cheek.

"please, professor..." your eyes wide open looking at his and your hands almost scratching your thighs. "please, i need you to touch me again..." neville opened his eyes in shock, finally realizing everything he had caused.

he moved his hand away from your cheek and slowly shook his head. "but i can't, y/n, i did that to help you and look at what you did..." he breath out looking at you with those puppy eyes he unconsciously did when he was disappointed. "i can't do that again."

"then, let me touch you..."

"you know that's not what i mean" his dry tone came back and seriousness took over his eyes again. "i shouldn't have done that and it can never happen again... not even if you hadn't done what you've done, i just can't cheat on my wife."

you felt your heart breaking. of course you knew he had a wife, who could "hannah" be if not his wife? but you wished you were wrong. you took a deep breath as your professor looked away, "i promise i won't tell anybody and i will never try something like that again, but please, i need you." he looked at you and shook his head again.

"i can't. not knowing i can't stop thinking about you even though you are my student." you felt your cheeks go warm at the words and without thinking you threw yourself onto him for a kiss. he took you on his arms while fully giving himself to you as he sat you on the table to place himself in front of you, just like last time.

without pulling your lips away from his, you unbottoned his pants while trying to pull them down with your feet, which were basically just rubbing themselves on his buttcheeks clumsily and made him laugh inside the kiss. you pulled away embarrassed. "i'm sorry..." you whispered nervously.

"it's fine" he laughed softly and kissed your forehead. he continued by kissing your lips once more and slowly starting to caress your thighs below your skirt. quickly, he lowered his pants to next completely take off your panties. "are you sure you want to do this?"

"i'm sure." you smiled shyly, playing with the edge of his boxers. you were usually quiet but at this time, you just couldn't wait to take them off. the feeling on your pussy was more than what you could stand. "fuck me, professor." he laughed and kissed your lips once more, making your heart and your lower area to pump even faster. he pulled away and licked his fingers, you just stared at them swallowing nervously, completely desperate and wanting them inside you. he inserted them were you most needed him but you knew it wasn't enough.

he looked at you, knowing what you were thinking, "don't worry, y/n. i just don't want you to get hurt." he smiled and gave you a peck on the lips before taking his fingers from your insides. he lowered his boxers, giving you full sight of erected cock. you gasped in shock. to you, it was huge, but of course, you hadn't seen any other one to compare, so you really didn't know. but it was. it was big.

"is it going to fit?" you asked scared.

"of course it is..." he looked at you, noticing the terrified look on your face. "but don't worry. i'll be gentle." he took you on his arms again and slowly put it inside of you. you gasped again. "does it hurt?"

"a little bit..." you swallowed. "but it's okay. i can take it" he laughed at your response and started softly moving his hips. you closed your eyes. you thought that maybe your professor's dick inside of you shouldn't feel so good... but it did. it felt amazing. you tried not to moan, covering your mouth with your hand.

neville took the hand of in front your mouth. "i want to hear you." even though he just had spoken five words he turned you into a moaning mess. "that's better." your voice basically shoved into your professor's core and he mercilessly increased the pace, letting his voice out too. his low moans were music to your ears.

you melted together, enjoying the fire coming of your souls. at that time, you wondered if you loved him or he was just fucking you so good. how would you love your professor? how could that be? it was probably just the sex. not his plant-green eyes, his peach-toned lips, his soft brown hair, his beautiful growly voice. not the way he passionately taught all his students about the plants and his sweet fatherly personality. it couldn't be that.

your thoughts were interrupted by an upcoming orgasm that made your body feel like it exploded. you screamed and bit your lips scratching neville's shoulders. he smiled and kissed your lips. you smiled back but couldn't bring yourself to say: i love you, professor.

#neville x you #neville longbottom x reader #neville longbottom smut #neville smut #neville longbottom x y/n #y/n #harry potter fanfiction #neville imagine

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rainbeom · 2 years

Text

TXT AND TYPES OF LOVE TROPES WITH THEM <3

pairing : txt x reader

genre : fluff

wc : 537 !!

warnings : mentions of bruised knuckles and punching a wall

song rec : loser=lover : txt ; no problem : nayeon ft felix of skz

a/n : sorry this took so long ! i have exams rn so updates are slow, but i hope this is likeable <333

yeonjun : childhood best friends to lovers

fed up with the numerous blind dates your friends set you upto, yeonjun decides to take the matter into his hands, unable to see his beloved chase others. "i've loved you ever since we were 10." he confesses, to see your mouth agape. your heart softens at how earnest he was with his confession. trailing his thumb across your cheek bone, he asks, "but do you feel the same, y/n? please don't feel obliged to reciprocate wh-" "i do, yeonjun, i've loved you too" you murmur, pressing a kiss to his palm.

tap to unlock ! <3

soobin : exes to lovers

volunteering to be a part time teacher where your ex works is never a good idea. sitting on the tiny chairs in the kindergarten, you and soobin watch kids play around. he huffs, "you broke my heart, you know?" and hands you two paper pieces of a heart-shaped origami. joining the two pieces together, you tape them and say, "well, let me join it for you." holding out your hand, you look at him expectantly, waiting to see what he does. he reaches out to clasp your hand, determined to not let you go this time.

beomgyu : enemies to lovers

being pinned against a wall by your enemy (who you secretly like omg) isn't really the best idea, as beomgyu snaps at you for teasing him. "can't you shut up? i think about you enough as it is !" he explodes, his eyes wide when he realizes what he said. "oh my god that was not what i meant." he begins, but you chortle, "haha, you like me don't you?" "shut up" he says, clearly annoyed and pushing him further, you retort with "make me." his mind goes, make me, she said. that's all it takes for beomgyu to press you against the wall, and kiss you like his life depends on it.

taehyun : fake lovers to actual lovers

"god, i'm gonna be so jealous of the guy you go out on a date with" taehyun blurts as your 3-month fake dating contract nears its end, a sudden smile takes over his face as the realization hits him, "oh wait, i'm that guy." mustering up all the courage you could possibly have, "you could be that guy, for real this time, you know? the one who takes me to dates." you offer. the unmissable gleam of his eyes gives away the answer, "oh yeah? i'd like that, very much, y/n darling."

hueningkai : soulmates to lovers

"we belong together, y/n !! when are you going to understand this?" kai asks, agitated to see the marks on your knuckles because he'd punched a wall, and you being his soulmate, the result of his actions directly affect you. tending gently to your wounds, he whispers, "don't push me away, y/n. fighting the inevitable makes it only more difficult." "but what if you're the one i need?" you ask feebly, overwhelmed by the feeling of his hands brushing your knuckles, "then let me be the one for you." he asserts, pressing his lips to the top of your hands.

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muddyorbsblr · 1 year

Text

man of the month part 2: january

Series Masterlist See my full list of works here!

Summary: You, Sam, and Tony plan who's assigned to which month; Tony has a talk with the models about you; during Tony's shoot he gives you a heads up on what's in store for you with some of the models

Pairing: Loki x Reader (eventually)

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: a handful of cuss words; otherwise, none [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: idiots in love; mutual pining; brief mentions of being half-naked

"We should decide who goes where," Stark said as he wrote down "January" next to his name and "July" next to Rogers'. "Everyone in favor of Barton going on February? Because you know, Cupid, arrows, all that?"

"I love it," you spoke up, sitting back down on your seat, showing the slightest signs of tiredness but still visibly undeterred. "How about Wilson in August? Right after Cap?"

"Eyy let's go!" Wilson singsonged. "I like the way you think, Tweety. Now Thunder here looks like a summer month, so let's go with June. And Ten Rings over here looks a bit like Spring to me, so I'm going April."

"Can I have May, please?" Lang spoke up.

"Of course you can, Scott. Since you asked so nicely," you answered him with a sweet smile. "Hey Rhodey, you feel like taking March?"

"Whichever gets my shoot done as soon as possible," he droned, evidently quite disinterested in this entire affair.

"Sweet. Ooh, we could put Loki in December," you said with a small wave of your hand Stark's way.

"Ah, because of Rudolph. Reindeer Games. I love the way your brain works, Tweety," Stark said as he put "December" next to the god's name.

You barely reacted to the quip as you visibly pondered over the remaining names and months, simply responding, "No it's because his birthday's in December." Your words made Stark and Wilson turn their gazes towards you, and caused Loki's heart to skip a good few beats. Very few people knew when his day was, despite Thor's insistence over the last few years to celebrate it.

And yet here you were declaring it as if you viewed it as common knowledge.

When several moments passed with no one saying a word, you looked around, quite visibly confused as you realized that there were currently several sets of eyes on you. "What?"

"Nothing, Tweety. Nothing at all," Stark answered you with a smirk. "All we have now are September to November. Strange, Banner, Barnes. You wanna talk among yourselves who gets what or you want Y/N to decide for you?"

"I'll take September, if it's okay with you all," Banner offered. The three of you nodded and "September" was placed next to Banner's name.

"Should we coin toss on Stephen and Bucky?" Something about how the metal-armed soldier smiled when you said his name made Loki's blood boil. He knew that the super soldier, both super soldiers actually, harbored feelings towards you, and something he quite envied about Barnes was that he was unashamedly outspoken about it.

"Fine with me, doll," Barnes answered you. He took a coin and tossed it in the air. "Heads I get October, tails it's Strange's." He caught the coin before it landed with a sharp sound on the table, and looked at the results in his palm. "Heads. Shall we do a Halloween shoot, Scopes?"

"Nah. Too cheesy. We'll have some stuff set up by the time the shoots start, so we could figure it out then, okay?" You gave him a smile as you ended your response to him, causing a dull ache to start in the god's heart once again. How he wished you could be that casual with him. Yearned for it, even.

"Okay so that's everyone planned out for their page on the calendar. Tweety, you're good for the day. Go back to sleep, you can start planning later. Models, stay, I have something to discuss with you all before I dismiss you, too." You promptly stood up, gathered your things in your arms and walked towards the door. Loki pushed himself off the wall he was leaning against and moved quickly to open the door for you.

"Thanks, Mischief," you said softly as you looked up at him for the briefest moment before once again fixing your gaze upon the ground and scurrying out of the room. You're welcome, darling, he thought to himself as he let go of the handle.

Once only the twelve men who would be modeling for this date keeper remained, Stark spoke up. "I'll make this quick. I know that Tweety has the hots for one of you, I just don't know which one. All I know is that she started having that glazed over look in her eyes once we had all the names written down before we called you all in. I'm telling you this because I know that some of you have a boner for her." He glared at the super soldiers specifically after this line.

"Hold on, Stark, so you're saying that she reciprocates the feelings of…someone in this room?" Rogers inquired, making a roundabout motion with this hand.

"That's what I'm saying, Capsicle. Unless of course she has feelings for someone in this room that isn't interested in her. Now that'd be a damn shame. Anyway, all this to say I'm going to be a complete devil's advocate here and encourage you to use your time with her at your respective shoots wisely. Respectfully, too, don't you fuckers forget that. But test the waters. Flirt. Try to impress her. Maybe if you're even feeling brave, ask her out, see what she'd say. If it's you, tell the rest of the guys who haven't had their turn yet so that they don't have to hold out hope. If it's not you, tell the rest of the guys that, too."

Loki tried to keep his expression stoic as he took note of those who were visibly excited over the notion that perhaps you reciprocated their feelings. Rogers and Barnes were the givens, and then there was the newcomer, Xi. What surprised him was the wistful, almost confident smirk from Strange; he hadn't even been aware that the sorcerer was interested in you.

But what made a pit settle heavy in his stomach was the sight of a fond smile on his own brother's face. He could feel the white hot needles of betrayal piercing into his thoughts. He would have surmised that his brother knew of his affections towards you and wouldn't attempt to pursue you. He'd been mistaken.

It took a few weeks and a considerable amount of elbow grease to get everything together, with decorating the studio with the various sets for the shoot being the most time consuming of it all, but the stage was officially set to start shooting for the calendar.

There might have also been various mini photoshoots with Natasha and Wanda in the name of test shots and practice throughout those few weeks, but you all swore that you would simply say that it was part of the setup process, which was technically the truth.

Now you were situated in front of an iMac that was purposed solely for the production of this calendar, the layout, the photo editing software to work on coloring, the vast array of fonts to choose from for the date numbers…there was just so much to work on other than just simply taking the pictures and slapping them on to a blank 2023 calendar.

Top that all off with you deciding that you wanted the month names to have a more personal touch, so you volunteered yourself to do the lettering, and you felt completely swamped, and you hadn't even taken a single picture yet. Well, until today, at least. Because today would be the first of the twelve shoots. January's. Tony's.

"You ready for me, Tweety?" you heard him call from the door. You made quick work to plug the memory card into the camera and made your way to the set with only a black backdrop placed.

"Ready when you are, boss," you hollered from your spot.

Tony walked in with slacks and dress shoes, opting to start the shoot with his shirt shed already, donning a necklace that held a pendant that almost resembled the arc reactor that had kept him alive for so many years. The very thing that started all this. "This is as naked as I wanna be. Both for this shoot and around you."

"You know what, Stark, I wanna say something about leading by example, but that's about as naked as I can take when it comes to you," you quipped, taking a few test shots. "Could you look a little over to your right? Don't move your whole body, just your head, and look like you're trying to figure out some algorithm that's stumping you."

Once he followed your instructions, you took a few more shots, confident that one of those was the shot you would eventually choose for his page.

"Y/N I gotta tell you something. I may have told the guys that you have feelings for one of them," he said in a rush.

You lowered the camera from your face, suddenly feeling your entire body go cold. "You what?" you hissed at him in disbelief. "Tony why would you do that? How did you even know that I--"

"You looked at the list of names with a eyes of a schoolgirl having her first crush, I figured it out pretty quickly, Tweety," he answered your unfinished question. "As for why? Because not everyone's built to be alone. You're not, and you shouldn't be. I already know that some of them want you, so your time with them is their chance to, you know, get to know you a little more. So just be ready for some of these shoots to run a little longer since…they're gonna try and treat their time with you like a test date."

"Am I gonna regret agreeing to helping you with this calendar, Tony?"

"Absolutely not. I'm just trying to tell you that you don't have to be alone. There's literally a handful of guys in this very tower that want to be the man that gets to keep you company. Go on dates with you. Share your bed, even." You looked at him pointedly, causing him to put his hands up and jokingly say, "Don't worry though I'm not one of them, fuck that. No offense, you're gorgeous, but--no. You're like the older sister Morgan wishes she has, Y/N. You're like my kid."

That caused you to let out a laugh that rang through the entire studio, infectious enough that Tony joined in. You decided that a candid shot of him laughing would make a great outtake, so you snapped a quick picture.

"And what if the guy I'm interested in…doesn't treat our shoot like a test date?" you asked him, your tone suddenly becoming more serious. "What if he just wants his shoot to be over and done with?"

"Y/N you have nothing to worry about unless your guy's Barton, Rhodey, or Banner. That's all I'm gonna say on that. And if I'm wrong? You have full permission to wear one of my suits and beat the shit out of me. I told you, you're like my kid. I just want you to be happy, and if I can help in any way, of course I'm gonna do it."

You set your camera down and walked over to him to give him a hug. "Thanks, Tony," you said softly. You pulled away quickly and plugged the memory card into the computer. "You'll never get me to call you Daddy, though. Keep dreaming, Stark," you quipped as the images loaded up to your screen. "Now come over here and tell me which shots you like from these."

He made quick work of choosing his favorite pictures from the batch, your hunch being right that the shot was among those first ones you took. "Now that my part's finished, you still have Barton's and Rhodey's shoots to ready yourself. We already know it's neither of them, and they're not into you, either. Barton's got his family and Rhodey's in line for the world record of biggest long distance relationship with that thing he's got going on with Danvers."

"So you know which ones are gonna try?"

"I have a feeling I know." He clapped a hand on your shoulder. "The gun show starts with Ten Rings. Good luck, Tweety."

With that, he left you to work on the coloring for his shot, completing his page. All the while, you'd resigned yourself to this whole "impressing you" thing amongst the guys to ultimately be a practice in futility if you actually held out hope that you would discover that your feelings were reciprocated.

After all, what were the chances that a literal god like Loki would ever even consider being with a human like you?

A/N: Wait hold up the gun show starts with who?? Tony?? 👀😳

Now would be a good time to tell you that each part up until part 11 "december" will have the corresponding calendar photos as the post media. And by the time this story is finished, you'll all have a 2023 calendar courtesy of me and @mochie85 😄

Taglist:

Everything: @lokisgoodgirl @lokischambermaid @imalovernotahater @mygfloki @lucylaufeyson3 @thomase1 @springdandelixn @fictive-sl0th @mochie85 @laliceee @xorpsbane @gigglingtigger @silverfire475 @cabingrlandrandomcrap @vickie5446 @salempoe @lokixryss @sinsandguilt @lokidbadguy @alexakeyloveloki @glitterylokislut @arch-venus25 @freefrommars @littlemortals @cakesandtom @girl-of-multi-fandoms @mischief2sarawr @thedistractedagglomeration @five-miles-over @goblingirlsarah @peaches1958 @huntress-artemiss @lilibet261 @iobsessoverfictionalmen @holymultiplefandomsbatman @lovingchoices14 @avoliax @devilsadvocactus @purplegrrl27 @lokiprompts @sititran @imherefortomhiddleston @ladyjames78 @stupidthoughtsinwriting @kikster606 @evelyn-kingsley

Loki taglist: @calumance @severuslovebot

#loki x reader #loki x female reader #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #mcu fanfiction #loki laufeyson fanfic #muddyorbs writes #mochie85

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neutron-stars-collision · 6 months

Text

Deadlines & Commitments

Neil x F!Reader

Chapter 3 - Canning Town Underground Station

Masterlist; Chapter 2 Summary: Flirting, Leicester Square station mixtape, flowers and breakdowns in the cantina. Or another chapter of an unlikely liaison. Warnings: Swearing, E-rated language and imagery and more outrageous flirting. Author's Notes: Chapter a month might just be the new deal here, apologies. And this one's long, by which I mean over 11k 💁🏻‍♀️ It also seems like now that I've started, I can't stay away from Neil's POV so... yeah. Look out for a cheeky cameo too 😉 Other than that, I can assure you this is just as chaotic and ridiculous as the last chapter. These two are in full control, I'm just a mere scribe, doing my best. Hopefully it works. Hope you enjoy and let me know what you think? 💕 Taglist: @hollandorks, @kristevstewart, @stargirl25 (let me know if you want to be added)

Incorporating Neil into your daily (and weekly) life was easy. Almost terrifyingly so if you did as much as stop and think about it. Perhaps the self-preservation rooted deep within forbade you to reflect on it. Which, in hindsight, was a good thing.

After that first victory of obtaining Neil’s number, you did not hold back from texting and bombarding him with daily nonsensical memes that could have driven a different man to madness. Neil, however, took it in his stride. It was rare not to get a reply from him after longer than an hour. And that boosted your courage like nothing else.

Some days, the conversations went like this:

/ 🏹, 12:07 pm/ Show me what socks are you wearing.

/✝️, 12:13 pm/ Jesus, that’s forward.

/ 🏹, 12:14 pm/ That’s basically my second name. So?

/ 🏹, 12:14 pm/ I swear I won’t sell the pic on OF.

/✝️, 12:20 pm/ Well, if you do, then at least share the earnings with me.

Although you started the ridiculous conversation, when the next text came, consisting of a single image of a socked ankle bared by the familiar hand pulling up the pant leg, you nearly dropped the coffee cup in the middle of the Covent Garden. It was just an ordinary Tuesday lunchtime, with the square bustling with sound and movement. Using the rare sunny September day, you escaped the confines of the Royal Opera House to have your coffee break on the kerb. Thanks to the dwindling sense of coherence, you did not drop said coffee when you opened the photo. The socks you had asked for were black with a grey argyle pattern. But that was where the normalcy ended, for the rhombuses were filled with corgi heads. The brown-beige dogs stared at you through the screen with their beady eyes and were the reason for your hysterical laughter.

The overprotective mother tending to her children close by shot you a dirty look. Well, fuck her.

/ 🏹, 12:23 pm/ Neil, you’re too cute. Way too cute.

/✝️, 12:32 pm/ It’s what every guy wants to hear. Thanks, Cupid.

/ 🏹, 12:34 pm/ I never said you’re not hot, though. Which you very much are. So much that I thought of you when…

/✝️, 12:35 pm/ Yeah, don’t finish that sentence. Please.

/✝️, 12:35 pm/ I’d rather maintain my innocence.

/ 🏹, 12:36 pm/ As you wish 😘

That was not a lie. It was a result of yet another tiring day and an early night in bed when it was too early to sleep. So, you chose to fill the time like most women would, letting your thoughts drift to images and scenarios that always did the trick as your hand delved between your thighs. When you realised who you had been thinking of, the tension was so close to bursting that you did not try to shift the attention. When you came, the guilt was nowhere to be found.

After all, it was not a sin to think of pretty boys when taking the edge off. As soon as you realised that Neil did not take the flirty line seriously, that feeling of potentially having done something wrong became non-existent. It was fine. It was all fine.

Other times, especially during those Wednesday mornings on the Tube, your conversations looked more like this:

“I’ve got an invasive question…” changing the subject during your weekly chats was easy, for as soon as you set a weighty gaze on Neil, he sobered up too.

The endless questions did not seem to bother him either. Your boundless curiosity was particularly grateful for that.

“As long as you’re not going to ask me what underwear I’m wearing, I think we’re fine,” the poker face was only disturbed by Neil’s twitching lips, and the sparks danced in his eyes as he inclined his head in your direction, blessing you with the golden strands, “Shoot,”

Every time, you took a deep breath, silently gathering the courage to ask, and then let the question fall from your lips without a pause:

“When was the last time you’ve been in love?” the curiosity was all it was.

Yet still, Neil’s widening eyes made you consider that perhaps something else was underlining that desire to know. And that this question was different than others you had asked. Different from “Dogs or cats?” “Typical coffee order?” and “Any hidden talents?”. But it was too late to take it back.

“Oof, you weren’t joking” Neil seemed to shake it off quickly, only briefly offering you a glare before looking down to find the needed words, “Probably two-ish years ago…?” you were sure you had imagined the broken edge in his voice as Neil swallowed hard and continued “It was a disaster. She didn’t- Let’s just say I went in too hard and too fast, and she got scared. Pretty much ghosted me after a half-assed excuse” when he raised his head and meet your gaze, you could see the depths of hurt in his eyes.

Your heart felt pathetically hollow, but you smothered the feeling to nothing but an uncomfortable sting.

“Ouch,” a wince was easy enough to muster, and you followed it with an apology, “Sorry,” Neil’s crestfallen look was an inspiration for you to place your hand on his shoulder and give him a reassuring squeeze “I know that it doesn’t help, but it’s her, not you” you knew the light statement was the right way to go when Neil cracked a wry smile and gave your other wrist a tap.

“Thanks,” it was evident enough to realise that Neil was eager to drop the subject. It was clearer still that you were going to be the next target, “I won’t ask you the same since I know better, but… Do you really think no one could change your view on love?” yet when the question fell in the space between you, it was not what you had expected.

The surprise must have painted on your face, for Neil looked a second away from taking it back. You stopped him from doing that the only way you could think of – by extending your hand in what was universally thought of as a ‘hold up’ motion. It was not that you did not want to answer. And it was not the first time someone had asked either.

But it was not something you were keen on inspecting and tearing apart to offer an honest answer. It was a fact, pure and simple. A fact that you would believe in till the day you died. There was no place for love in your life, and there would never be. Full stop.

“Yeah, I do,” you met Neil’s waiting gaze and offered him a weak shrug. The strange disappointment in his gaze made no sense, so you chose to ignore it to shift your attention to the world outside the carriage as it arrived at the next station. The belief in your next words was as tangible as anything else you could conceive, “It would take a miracle”.

He did not ask that question again.

Those Wednesday morning conversations also became a source of information, which you had stowed securely in the compartment of your brain labelled ‘Neil’. After almost two months of acquittance, you knew that he was born and raised a Londoner (from Richmond, the posh fuck [affectionate]), was decidedly a dog person and had a chocolate Labrador growing up (a girl named Daisy), listened to alt-rock and 80s music and was what he described as a hopeless romantic. You still did not know what he did for work, only that he was decidedly not a tattooist, literary agent, paramedic, jockey, art critic, dressmaker, choreographer, or bus driver. Whether he was truly not just a priest undercover was still up for debate.

***

Only when you fled the confines of the ordinary tiny London flat kitchen and felt the night breeze of the city on your skin, left bare from the jacket you did not yet put on, had the question of the ages pop into your head. What the fuck? There was no answer. You shook your head against the memories of what had just conspired and stopped on the pavement to put on and fasten the jacket. Even annoyed, you could still feel the biting cold begin to settle in your bones.

You never expected to bump into Liam. Never in a million years would you have considered that those two friends you shared would extend the invitation to that man out of all people. And you certainly did not expect him to come.

Although, as he had unhelpfully explained himself, he only showed up because of the chance you would be there. The audacity made you shake your head vehemently, without a doubt attracting a glare or two from those who remained sober at this hour. In Soho on Saturday night, that was unlikely.

You walked through the cobbled streets with the neon lights lighting your path without an aim or a map. The only objective was to stomp the frustration into the cracked pavement and end up home. Somehow. Specifics were to be determined later.

Sure, rushing out of your mate’s flat like a lightning bolt could be seen as impulsive. But Liam offered you no choice. The pleasant buzz of alcohol did nothing to stop the embarrassment, which grew worse by the minute. The long walk in an unknown direction was a sad but acceptable consequence. Or so you aimed to maintain.

By the time you had seriously begun to consider using the dwindling phone battery to order an Uber and save you from the penance of someone else’s transgressions, the red circle with a navy blue bar appeared on the horizon. Salvation, at last. You picked up the pace, eager to get out of the cold and that one step closer to home. This close to Leicester Square and the theatres just having closed their doors on the last patrons, the bustle seemed quieter somehow, more subdued. It was a blessing for your budding headache and a threat to the thoughts eager to appear with nothing suppressing them.

You crossed the road and descended the staircase with a sigh. The heat of the station enveloped you like a hug as you passed the ticketing gates and spent an unnecessarily long time staring at the Tube map. When the logic kicked in, at last, you rushed over to the correct platform.

Only to regret it as soon as the timing screen came into view. Heathrow Airport 25 mins. The polite PSA text below informed you the line was experiencing delays. No biggie. They were sorry. The usual shit. A curse litany lodged in your throat as your eyes roamed over the platform.

All the noise in your head faded to nothing when your gaze settled on that familiar blonde head of hair. He was sitting in one of the few chairs with his head bowed over his knees in a position so exemplary for a Saturday night in the glorious London town. You skimmed over his body, taking note of the casual jeans and a t-shirt, peeking from beneath the unbuttoned jacket.

Before you knew it, your legs had started carrying you in his direction, a goofy smile present on your face. The improbability of it happening made everything easier. Because what were the odds?

Instead of counting them, you approached Neil, still so blissfully unaware of your presence and delivered an opening line:

“Hello, Father,” the joke did not yet get old, and you still got the kick out of it.

Especially when Neil raised his head fast enough to give himself a whiplash and gasped from shock.

“Jesus- Oh, what the fuck?” clutching at his heaving chest with all the drama he could muster, Neil offered you a look so full of surprise you knew he did not expect this to happen either.

The only weekend plans you had discussed over texts were that you had a party to go to, and he was likely to go out with his workmates at some point. But that was it. Zero specifics, no need to share them because there was no need for either of you to know the details. And yet.

“Is that how you should greet a lady?” playing on his theatrical reaction, you feign a shocked expression.

It was clear you would fail at any attempts of annoyance. Your cheeks were already aching with that kind of wide, manic grin only Neil seemed to cause. You could see his eyes skim over your figure, taking in your clothes with that sort of precision only he seemed capable of. Finally, satisfied with what he saw, Neil raised his head to meet your gaze again and got up to bow lowly at your feet:

“Apologies, m’lady,” before you knew what he was doing, he took hold of your hand and kissed your knuckles. A move so fast you almost thought you had imagined it if not for the fading sensation of his lips still ghosting your skin, “What are you doing here?” with his hand lightly touching your elbow, Neil steered you towards the seats.

Only now, with the surprises fading into the background, you took note of the empty platform. It was just the two of you sitting on the creaky plastic chairs. You shifted an inch closer to Neil, seeking the warmth radiating off his body and replied:

“As I’ve mentioned, I had an invitation to this flat party in Soho… And I went, but then, and you’ll never believe that happened-” recounting the improbable story felt good, and you took pleasure in the attention Neil gave your every word.

“Let me guess… Liam showed up?” his interjection followed your dramatic pause flawlessly.

Of course, he got it. Of course, he guessed. You shook your head at his eager smile, aware of the glee in your eyes:

“Damn, you’re good” your low approving whistle reverberated in the space. Most shockingly, there was a certain level of joy in sharing the story, even as your skin crawled with the embarrassment of what transpired, “Yeah, and it turns out that getting blocked did not make him smarter. It became a whole thing, along with him getting down on his knees in the middle of a kitchen and proclaiming his undying love to me,” you wondered if Liam was still there, kneeling on the tiled floor and waiting for your return.

Partially, you hoped that was the case.

Throwing you out of the strange ruminations, Neil shook his head and offered you a serious look:

“Blimey,” his tsk almost got lost in the PA announcement, crackling from the speakers. When it ended, Neil met your gaze with a sympathetic smile, “No wonder you ran away,” his knee nudged yours, triggering something you would not understand even in months.

Sitting upright, you nodded fervently:

“I had to” the emotions you did not know were present poured out from your lips as the next words fell in the space between you, “And like- He doesn’t even know me? He never saw me on the stage, and he thinks that making me cum a couple of times is enough?” a frustrated growl tore from your chest as you finished the tirade with a tired sigh and simple punchline, “Bullshit,”

There was no time or willingness to take apart where all that anger came from or why it was suddenly so important Neil understood your reasons. It just was. Later it was easily blamed on the alcohol still present in your veins. For now, you met his gaze and shrugged, answering the questions he seemed too shy to ask.

“With that, I must agree. It’s bullshit” nudging you with his shoulder, Neil smiled, brightening the clouds that still seemed to hang over your mind.

You shot him a brilliant grin, brushing away the concerns with terrifying ease. They had to wait, ideally forever.

“Thanks, babe” sugar coated your smile as you allowed yourself to gaze, taking note of the blush spreading on his cheeks. Although you would never admit it out loud, the blue of his eyes was slowly becoming your favourite shade of the colour. It was that thought that triggered your next confession, “Admittedly, meeting you here is a highlight of the night,” you watched as his eyes grew wider, evidently not expecting to hear something that honest. The moment stretched for what felt like ages until you found the strength to look away, focusing on the timing screen and the issues it posed, “Though, those delays are bullshit, too” your eye-roll elicited an instant laugh, which only added warmth to the kindling sparks in your chest.

“Mhmm,” Neil’s hum acted like an anchor, tying you to reality.

It was a better place to get lost in than the chaos raging in your head. You chose to stick by it, following the easy way out with a simple question:

“How come you’re here?” you turned towards Neil, hoping to block the platform and the world beyond from view.

Even if just figuratively and for a short while. If the answering bright smile was anything to go by, Neil was happy to humour you:

“I’ve been out for drinks at a pub, but then our crowd isn’t very… boisterous, so we all went our separate ways, and here I am,” he signed off the summary with an explanatory shrug, but you should have kept your guard up. Once his gaze settled on you with an intensity of intent, a pathetic instinct kickstarted your heart with all the subtlety of trainwreck, “Bored as fuck until you’ve shown up” the joy in that simple sentiment was enough to make your cheeks heat up.

Of its own volition, your brain provided the fresh memory of how Liam’s attention in that cursed kitchen had made you feel. How running away was the only option you saw then. It was different now; the quiet focus of the man sitting next to you was a welcomed change. A company you were happy to keep. For however long you were allowed.

“How long do you think till it’s-” ignoring the shyness that did not seem happy to be buried in Neil’s company, you changed the subject with all the grace of an elephant.

It was evident in how you stuttered, quickly abandoning the idea of finishing the sentence and letting it trail off into the quiet. It was too early to raise your head from the depths of shame it was drowning in. It was all a little too much.

“Could be twenty minutes, could be an hour… or never,” Neil’s voice gained a cheeky edge as if conscious of your minor crisis and happy to offer a distraction.

You risked a peek at his face, finding the signature smirk gracing his face. That expression never failed to feel like a sharpened knife piercing through the walls of your uncertainty. It complimented his face too well, dragging the attention to Neil’s sharp features and his remarkable eyes that always felt like they could see right through your bullshit and the pretending. It was terrifying.

It was then, in the light of his frightening beauty, that you decided what to do next. What was necessary to keep you (moderately) sane. One look at your tote bag lying on your lap offered inspiration:

“Fab,” your dry comment elicited Neil’s laugh and sealed the deal on what you wanted to do next. There was no backing out. You straightened your spine and swivelled on the seat to face him fully. When your knees touched him, Neil’s eyes widened almost comically. But that was only the beginning of the wild ride for him, you were sure of it, “Well, then… Dance with me,” the delivery of that line required a special nonchalance.

One that required you to hold Neil’s gaze long after you had finished speaking, and the words had only just dawned on him. Once they did, his eyes got comically large, and his lips parted on what could only be a mute expression of horror. A giggle got trapped in your throat, but you fought valiantly against it. For now.

“Pardon?” Neil’s choked-out question came after sequenced opening and closing his mouth with nothing coming up.

Your poker face was tearing at the seams. Foolishly.

“Dance with me, Neil,” repeating the request (order?), you extended your hand towards him, signing off the invitation for what it was.

The shock was still present on his face. Despite that, Neil slipped his palm, warm and fitting perfectly, into yours. You could tell that it was not entirely conscious on his part.

You sure did not mind it, though.

“I might have had a drink or two, but I didn’t think I was drunk enough to be hearing things,” Neil’s incredulity bled into his tone as he stared you down as if hoping the sheer disbelief would be enough to deter you.

Tough luck.

“Come on,” squeezing his hand, you switched the tactic with a question, “What’s the worst thing that can happen?” there was no judgment in your gaze, and you hoped Neil knew that.

If asked, you could not explain why that was something you wanted to do with him, there and then of all places. But it still felt important. Urgent, even.

The no-bullshit look you got in return almost made you burst into laughter.

“You’ll see me dance,” Neil deadpanned as if it was clear.

As if that was the peak horror that could befall him at your hands. Using the lifeline of your joined palms, you rubbed your thumb over the tender skin of his hand, hoping to let that act as a reassurance. That was a nonsensical fear to have.

Who gave you, a mediocre ballerina, the right to judge? Absolutely no one.

“And?” you offered Neil a brilliant grin, doing your best not to think about how right it felt to have his hand resting in yours.

That question seemed to catch his attention, pulling him back from the precipice of self-doubt. You watched as Neil pondered the answer, staring at you with that bright-eyed, anxious expression, complete with his teeth nibbling on his lower lip. He picked at the worried, fragile skin, and you did not think about soothing the damage with your tongue. Not at all.

“I don’t know… You’ll leave and block me?” when he finally found a plausible answer, it was the last thing you expected Neil to say.

Despite the seriousness on his face, you could not hold back the laugh that spilt from your lips. What an idiot [affectionate]. The adorable pout in his bottom lip was responsible for the recklessness you chose to implement.

Without thinking about it too much, you leaned in and used your free hand to cup his face, eradicating the remains of the gap between you. As your thumb brushed over his cheekbone, Neil gasped, barely disguising the sound with a cough. The grin spread over your face as you spoke:

“It takes a little more than that for me to block you,” that was true; you could barely fathom blocking Neil, least of all because of such a trivial reason. It was only after a beat that the second meaning of what he said sunk in. The meaning you expected Neil did not exactly consider slipping out like that. You grabbed it with both hands and a knowing smile, “Also… you enjoy talking to me that much?”

The jackpot shot came with a furious blush on his cheeks and an embarrassed scoff as Neil turned away from your watchful gaze. Your hands stayed linked. That, too, was an adorable reaction. It made that pleasant warmth in your chest burner brighter, though you refused to inspect it too closely.

Before you could consider pushing him for a reply further, Neil jumped up from the creaky seat and pulled you to standing using your tight handhold. The fake pep was visible from miles away, especially in that manic grin that almost seemed too wide on his face. But you did not have the time to question it.

“Okay, let’s just dance,” Neil tugged at your hand impatiently.

He did not seem capable of standing still, hopping from one leg to another. If that was a sign of what was coming, you knew you were not ready. Your eyes narrowed in what you hoped was a mildly threatening look:

“That’s a deflection tactic,” still, you took a step closer to him, finally putting that handhold to use.

“Yes, it is,” Neil nodded as his arms opened in a shrug.

That was your answer. You could only cement it with a smile as you allowed him to pull you closer, almost into his open arms, except-

“Wait, we need music,” remembering that crucial missing piece, you let go of his hand and darted back to the tote abandoned by the seats.

“No shit,” Neil’s dry comment was accompanied by the scuffling of his shoes over the cracked tiles.

You grinned, triumphantly holding out the speaker you had fished from the bag. That was the only pro you could think of that came from your earlier practice, and no time in between that and the disastrous party.

“Lucky for you, I came prepared,” you showcased it like a spoil of war and turned the speaker on, awaiting the sound confirming it had connected to your phone. When it came, you ceremoniously placed the device on the vacated seat and pressed play on your phone. Only once the music was playing, you turned back towards Neil with a flourish, “Voila,”

It took him an additional second to identify the song, the synthesizer filling the empty platform with a special kind of vibe. When the proper beat kicked in, you started shimmying your hips and shoulders to the rhythm, awaiting Neil’s reaction. You were not disappointed when he gaped at you with joy barely disguised underneath a frown:

“Really?” still, his foot started tapping with the singer’s voice.

Shrugging, you spun around him, feeling the music fill your body like it always did. You always felt the most alive when dancing. When your feet were following the choreography, and head was deliciously empty of everything but the musical notes and lyrics.

When you stopped to meet Neil’s gaze, you found him staring back in awe.

“What? It’s not me; it’s the holy spirit of the shuffle,” the song started heading towards the chorus, so you added the hand movements, orbiting around Neil and hoping to pull him along, “Can’t argue with it,”

‘Don't. Don't you want me?

You know I can't believe it when I hear that you won't see me

Don't. Don't you want me?

You know I don't believe you when you say that you don't need me’

It was an all-time favourite. A bop you did not have the heart to resist whenever it came on. Now was not any different. Your lips started whispering the words as your body moved through the space, overcome with the feeling of dancing. At that moment, you were grateful for the sensible footwear your past self had chosen that morning. Sure, dancing in high heels was possible, but the Converse made for a much better choice. They slid along the cracked tiles without resistance, allowing you to double the efforts.

It did not matter that you had an audience. Or that it was a particularly attentive one, for you never once felt Neil look away. He was still staring, standing almost stock-still, save for how his feet tapped out the beat. That had to change.

‘Don't you want me, baby?

Don't you want me? Oh!’

You stopped, chest heaving and limbs still too giddy with the effort. You met Neil’s unwavering gaze over the space and mouthed the chorus, aware of the interpretations he could easily reach. That was fine, nothing you were opposed to. In a way, him noticing half your actions did have a tentative hope behind them would have saved you time. And words. But that was a thought for another time.

Once you heard the female vocals come in, you reached out towards him, yet again presenting Neil with your open hand. Yet again, he did not hesitate, letting you pull him close. When the distance had been eradicated, Neil placed his hand on your waist with an experimental level of timidity. As if he was still fully expecting the move to backfire. Silly goose. Your hand ventured up his chest to his shoulder as you steeled your frame into what was expected of ballroom dancing. The habits were hard to shake off, after all.

Despite the booming synthesizers and grooving rhythm, you let him lead you into a slow dance. With each step, Neil’s confidence seemed to grow, for his grip became firmer as he splayed his hand over the small of your back and pulled you closer. It did not matter that his technique would bring your snobbish teachers from ballet study to tears. What mattered was that you felt safe within his embrace, never shying away from Neil’s gaze as it stayed trained on your face. What also mattered was that the genuine smile was fixed on your face. Especially when the song was slowly ending, and Neil was not letting go. What a novelty that was. You worried that once you tasted it, it would be impossible to let go. To forget this careless feeling, encapsulated within a simple, tender hold and open, beautiful eyes.

“That was hardly a song for slow dancing,” when Neil spoke, the remark came upon a hesitant smile, so at odds with how sure his hand was within yours.

“We made do, didn’t we?” you could only offer him a smile, aware of the wobbly edges of your voice and the yearning of your treacherous heart.

Even with years of practice, it sometimes wanted what it could not get. Affection, namely. Or the tenderness that meant something, rather than the mindless touch of a loveless fuck. You hoped one day those two would disappear, leaving you perfectly satisfied with what you had.

As if aware of your dangerous thoughts, the song switch came at a perfect moment. The last beats of The Human League died down, replaced with an equally cheesy rhythm. If not worse. Neil’s reaction was instant. He stopped dancing abruptly, making you nearly miss stepping on his foot. Your eyes darted to his face as curiosity soared in your chest. The barely masked joy you found there only made that warmth in your heart feel like tongues of fire. You disentangled from the embrace to place your hand on his chest and push him back lightly:

“Come on, pretty boy. Show me what you’ve got,” you completed the encouragement with a wink and stepped back to give him space.

The hesitation stage lasted much less this time. Neil stared at you, evidently weighing the pros and cons of giving in, but as soon as Falco opened the song with the lines in German, he had made up his mind. It was your turn to be dumbfounded as you watched Neil thrash to the music, almost keeping up with the beat. He slid across the tiles, barely managing not to slip as Falco went on about Mozart and his flair.

‘Er war ein Virtuose, war ein Rockidol

Und alles rief: Come on and rock me Amadeus’

It was easy to say Neil got lost in the music as his lean body twisted and turned, claiming the space he was allowed to occupy. There was grace in his movement, as well as carelessness, perfectly balancing the dance into an ideal mixture. A rare spark of envy kindled in your chest as you did your best to ignore the question of what it must feel like to be this free. During the poor attempt at moonwalking as he circled you, you could no longer hold back the laugh. Neil’s hands weaved through the air as he threw his head back to shout the hook along with the singer. With each call of Amadeus’ name, the affection in your chest grew, becoming increasingly lethal. A show of that kind displayed not only his trust but also what kind of a man Neil could be if he got rid of his shyness and inhibitions. It was something you doubt you could ever forget.

And that could be a problem.

When the song drew to a close, and Neil’s heaving breaths alerted you that he was probably worn out with exertion, he stopped. The reverberating beats sunk into the background as you met his gaze, aware of the silly softness you could not eradicate from your eyes. Neil looked manic, his pupils dilated and irises sparkling. He was breathing hard, the exhaustion making him shrug off the jean jacket with impatience, so far that Neil did not bat an eyelid when the article landed on the dirty floor. The reveal of an old, worn-out t-shirt underneath that hugged his broad shoulders and biceps just right made your jaw fall slack.

That, too, could be a problem.

Despite the common sense screaming at you to look away, you stared on, aware of Neil gazing right back. A wiser person would have shaken awake in time to switch off the music and call this quits before any further damage could be done. But you were never the wiser person.

You looked on as the song switched into a different era of music, and gentle, cheesy chords of piano and percussion filled the platform with a ballad almost everyone knew. Neil was not any different. You noticed the change in his eyes, switching from playfulness to mild seriousness. As if he, too, knew your fates were being decided at that exact moment.

However, the results of those decisions would not be noticeable until much later.

Using Elvis’ crooning as a backup to help drown your thoughts, you reached out your hand towards Neil, repeating the invitation. It was up to him whether he wanted to take it. Just like everything else in your friendship. The eager hope was hard to nip in the bud. It itched and ached until you could hardly stand still, awaiting the sentencing for what felt like hours. At last, Neil closed the gap and took your proffered hand with an impassive look.

The second time bore all the experience of the first, making it easier to fall in place without hesitation. Neil clasped your hand in his and let his other arm wind around your waist, pulling you close. Much closer than before. Your hand found its way to his shoulder, curious fingers stroking the expanse of his neck, revealed by the t-shirt collar. You did your best not to notice the goosebumps rising on his skin. It was impossible to tell which of you moved first, leading into the gentle sway. Only once you started waltzing around the empty platform, it was impossible to stop.

‘Would it be a sin

If I can't help falling in love with you?’

Halfway through the song, you tilted your head back from where your gaze had been trained on the expanse of his chest and met Neil’s waiting gaze. The shock passing through your system felt like a fatal blow. There was no denying the fact that this was a first. The first time you had ever danced like that with someone, motivated by nothing else but the desire to do it. There was also no denying the fact Neil’s watchful eyes and the soft strokes of his fingers, running along the expanse of your waist down to your hip, felt like nothing else you could have ever experienced before or after. It was well past your usual flirty chats and casual innuendos. Well past the daily playfulness of whatever it was blooming between you. It was well past the worn-out tracks and lived-in spaces.

Absolutely fucking terrifying.

‘Take my hand,

Take my whole life, too

For I can't help falling in love with you

For I can't help falling in love with you’

It was impossible to say what had tipped the scales right then. Whether it was the song lyrics, drawing attention to all those things you would rather ignore till the end of time or the unwavering eye contact you had maintained as you spun across the space with grace that had not been there previously. Or whether it was due to how Neil held you steadily, all the while allowing himself to stare, eyes roaming over your face in a meticulous study. But perhaps it was just a trick of fate, a sudden loss of reason and logic that made you tip forward and give in to the gravitational pull of his orbit. Perhaps Neil was guilty of the same thing.

Before you knew what had failed and why, you were close enough to feel the gasp of his breath fan across your face. The air ghosted your lips as your nose brushed against Neil’s, and the time slowed to a crawling speed. There was no denying the fact that you wanted it. The want hummed underneath your skin and made it hard to think clearly.

You only knew that Neil closed his eyes, and his sharp intake of breath hit your lips, making you tilt forward. Making it oh so easy to let go and-

“This is Piccadilly Line service towards the Heathrow Airport,” the PA system crackled to life, forcing you to separate as if burned.

You blinked awake, barely noticing the train slowing at the platform and the music still playing from your speaker. One glance at Neil told you all feelings were very much mutual. It was a close call. So close you could almost feel the kiss that never happened. An uncertain smile played upon your lips as you turned off the music and jumped aboard the train. You could only hope the King of the Rock’N’Roll himself was wrong about this one.

***

It was a well-known truth that a pretty boy could make you a little stupid. Stupid enough to do things that, under normal circumstances, would be off the table. But all it took was a flash of blue eyes and a charming smile, and boom, logic gone, reason decimated. Usually, there was a price to pay for that.

But the potential costs meant nothing in the face of the revelations the Saturday night brought. Namely, the kiss that never happened but you could easily dream of. Which you did, just to brighten up the restless sleep. Needless to say, that night unlocked some things. Things that perhaps were best left untouched. But hindsight was a gift you did not yet possess.

Instead, you battled with a single idea that was difficult to eradicate. Sure, that night, or how it had almost ended, was never mentioned again. As early as the next day Neil reached out to you and set the tone you were happy to follow. But the memory remained, nagging at your brain for a week and not once letting go. It was a seed that planted another thought. The thought that nothing was preventing you from reaching out for more. That there was no script to follow with Neil. That idea was like a brainworm making a home inside your skull.

Because, yes, you were known to be a little stupid for attractive boys. And Neil was potentially the most beautiful man you have ever met. That proved to be a problem.

Exactly a week after that Saturday, you caved in. The autumn breeze was hitting your face and tangling your hair as you stared at the Thames. There was no better place to start a catastrophic chain of events than the Blackfriars Bridge. Or so you told yourself. You took out the phone to stare at the messages and opened the text conversation with Neil. It took an additional fortifying breath to start typing out the proposition and start the exchange.

/ 🏹, 5:39 pm/ So, I figured, since we already broke the rules on our hangouts last Saturday

/ 🏹, 5:40 pm/ Would you like to grab coffee tomorrow?

/✝️, 5:45 pm/ That’s unexpected.

/✝️, 5:45 pm/ Why the sudden change of heart?

/ 🏹, 5:46 pm/ I liked your moves.

/✝️, 5:47 pm/ I’m pretty sure no one’s ever said that to me.

/ 🏹, 5:49 pm/ Maybe they just weren’t looking. I knew I was.

/✝️, 5:51 pm/ Okay, yeah. I’d like that.

/✝️, 5:52 pm/ Any labels I should be aware of?

/ 🏹, 5:52 pm/ Nah, fuck the labels.

/ 🏹, 5:53 pm/ Unless you want to bring me flowers. Then let’s call it a date.

/✝️, 5:55 pm/ Then it’s a date 😘

You stared at the phone long after the screen went dark. Along with the buzzing joy and anticipation of what tomorrow would bring, there was also an eternal question. The question you had avoided pretty damn well so far. What the fuck have you done?

***

By the time you were meeting Neil in a café (chosen because of its perfect location between St. John’s Wood and Swiss Cottage), those nerves of anticipation had transformed into anxiety. The worst was that you did not even know what you were so nervous about. A date (that was not really a date) was nothing new. You have done it many times before, usually to great results. But suddenly, when Neil was inserted into the equation, all that you got was uncertainty. And a strong fear of fucking it up. It did not make for a good mix.

Part of it dissipated once you turned the street corner and saw him waiting in front of the café, a bouquet in hand, despite your line being nothing more than a throwaway joke. An affectionate smile was impossible to get rid of no matter how hard you may have tried. It stayed as you closed the remaining distance and met Neil’s gaze. Then it got transformed into a stupid grin as your eyes scanned him head to toe (hair just as messy as always, leather and jeans completed with sneakers – in other words: fucking hot). Once that foolery was complete, you could shift your attention to the flowers, now held out in your direction like a sheepish offering.

It was a colourful bouquet of wildflowers, freshly bloomed and coming from a florist rather than Sainsbury’s. The thoughtfulness was enough to make you blush. Before you could delve into an embarrassing attempt at cover-up, Neil broke the silence:

“You haven’t specified what kind of flowers,” his shyness was easily seen from the fidgeting hands and eyes unwilling to stay on your face longer than necessary.

That was your cue to get yourself together and accept the bouquet with a courtesy. That, too, was just a trick to drag that shy smile onto his face. It worked.

“Those are perfect, thank you,” with another smile, you turned towards the entrance and went in as Neil held the door. It was a cosy café with only a few tables and a bar-service ordering. You motioned towards the smiling server behind the counter with a question, “Wanna go order coffee?”

You did not expect in response to your innocent ask for Neil to come to a strange stand-still in the middle of the entryway and measure you with a look that spoke volumes about him having something to say and no way of expressing it. You raised your eyebrow, urging the words to come out and save you from death by perplexation.

After a beat, Neil seemingly found the ability to speak again and stumbled through a sentence:

“I’ve got… uh… a thing,” the emphasis on the final word was accompanied by an awkward shift, his hand automatically reaching up to comb through his hair and messing it up even more.

That did not help. At all. You blinked, aware of the comedy role you had just been awarded without warning. You were vaguely conscious of the server’s gaze, undoubtedly staring at the spectacle presented with fascination.

“Jesus, what thing?” when Neil did not elaborate, you prodded with another question, gaining a slightly hysterical edge.

It was probably that tone which made the most impact. Neil seemed to wake up, his hands gesturing as he attempted to explain:

“A thing about figuring out people’s drink order,” he shrugged, almost as if already embarrassed by ever bringing it up; that would not do, “Like a-”

“A kink?” you interrupted his explanation with a devilish grin, knowing that it would do the job.

That and the teasing, of course.

The reaction was instantaneous. Where previously there had been mild shyness and uncertainty, the furious blush had bloomed. Neil looked horrified as he took a step in your direction as if considering sealing your mouth shut before finally admitting defeat. What you got instead was a glare and an affronted reply:

“What? No! More like talent, I guess,” Neil shrugged, visibly battling the dilemma you were not privy to. You decided to help him the best way you knew how – by reaching out and squeezing his hand. Once. Just once. It was enough to do the job and make your fingers itch with an inexplicable desire to prolong the contact. Luckily, it disappeared when Neil recovered from his internal crisis and gestured towards the counter, “May I?”

You could only nod, happy that whatever had just transpired was past you. Not that it was not fun, but because of the audience that did not deserve to see what had happened. Whatever it was.

“You’ve got me intrigued, so now you have to,” shrugging upon Neil’s hesitant smile, you ventured inside the café, scouting for a perfect table.

Soon enough, the ideal booth had been located and taken as you awaited Neil’s return. You did not have to wait long, for as soon as you settled and placed your coat on the backrest, he sat in the chair in front. That sheepish smile was still in place, so you tried to bring back his confidence with dumb chitchat until you were interrupted by the server approaching your table. It worked. As you both fell quiet, Neil was visibly fighting a grin threatening to transform his face. The pride surged in your veins without respect towards your sense of humility.

The woman shot you both a bright smile as she set neared the table and put a steaming porcelain cup in front of Neil:

“Flat White for you, sir, and for your girlfriend-” you never got to hear the end of that sentence as Neil’s horrified expression and a loud interruption stole your attention.

“Oh, we’re not-” your laughter was almost enough to drown out his protest.

Almost because the server still looked extremely apologetic as she placed a larger cup in front of you with a clink.

“-Caramel Macchiato,” you waved off the atonement she seemed ready to launch and smiled, the curiosity at his choice already occupying your mind.

“Thank you,” as soon as the woman was out of earshot, you turned your cheeky smile onto Neil and covered his hand resting on the table with your palm, “Are you ashamed of me, my darling?” your favourite blush spread upon his cheeks, widening your grin in the process.

A blunder like that was not something you would ever lose sleep over. Even less so, considering that you were there with Neil. Even with your deep-rooted dislike over anything that had to do with relationships and the complications they lead to, you could not possibly be angry over being perceived as belonging to Neil. If anything, it was flattering.

“Stop it,” he shook off your hand, way too gently, and shook his head as if desperate to clear it, “I just didn’t-” after a beat, he dropped your gaze, giving up the fight, “It doesn’t matter, sorry” although you would do anything to understand the thought processes unfolding behind those slightly vacant blue eyes, you were not given a chance. Instead, he took a fortifying sip of coffee and looked at your cup, (not so) swiftly changing the topic “So… how did I do?” the anticipation in that gaze offered no space for a bargain.

You glanced at the beverage in front of you and slowly raised it to get a tentative taste. The warm liquid slightly burned your tongue, but before you could mourn the damage, the caffeine and creamy caramel filled your mouth with pleasurable goodness. It was a top-notch choice, making you follow that first sip with another almost without a break. Burned tongue be damned.

“Very good, actually,” raising your head, you met Neil’s proud smile. It was a much better look than the embarrassed expression from earlier, motivating you to add, “Maybe you should try getting into BGT with that talent,” you winked at him, even if to prolong the blush, which had begun to fade.

But also because it was fun to compliment him, considering that you meant every word and because of your suspicions that Neil did not get them often. That alone was a travesty, in your opinion.

“Very funny,” rolling his eyes at you with a happy smile tucked in the corner of his lips, Neil looked even better.

It was easy enough a conclusion that lightness and happiness were a good look on him. Especially when you were the cause. You tried not to let that go into your head, but… Well.

“I know,” you matched his smile with a smirk of your own, “Hysterical,” with the perfect pause to take another sip of the glorious coffee, you shifted the topic, “How was the week at the clergy?”

Without Neil’s continuous amused reactions to the same old joke, you would have dropped it by now. But how could you if it still got a laugh out of him each time? You couldn’t let opportunities like that slip by. No chance.

This time, Neil hid the joyous huff of laughter in the coffee cup as he pondered the answer.

“It’s been good. Fine,” a noncommittal shrug offered no room for guessing what it was that he did, which was still a mystery, but you counted wins where you could find them, “A bit busy, but what can you do. I might have a work trip coming up soon, so…” it was only when the second part of his reply was processed by your brain, currently preoccupied with staring at Neil’s mouth (which was a very normal state of mind to have), that you perked up.

That was important information. For two contrasting reasons. One was that whatever Neil did for work involved work trips, and that narrowed down the field, albeit barely. Two was that it would mean he would not be around every Wednesday, ready to meet you. That second deduction took hold of your heart with the icy grasp of disappointment.

“So, no more Wednesday meetups?” it was impossible to keep the sadness out of your tone as you settled a wary gaze on Neil.

Sure, it was survivable. But where would be the fun in it?

It was not fun to see that same apprehension creep into Neil’s eyes.

“Yeah, but only like… for a few weeks,” from his sudden dislike of eye contact, you guessed that the estimation might have been an understatement. Though you did hope he was not lying. The pitiful look must have been still present on your face, for Neil followed the statement with reassurance, “I’m sure you’ll survive without me,” he hesitated for a millisecond before returning your previous gesture and giving your hand a comforting pat.

You did not move it away, the pleasant warmth and weight of his palm seeping through your skin and soothing the sudden spell of sadness. It was difficult not to let that inexplicable feeling lead you into the deep end as it was not something you understood. It settled in the darkest cavern of your heart and accompanied its beat with its foreboding presence. There was no choice but to push past it.

“I don’t know, I’m going to miss you,” the confession felt dangerously light on your tongue as you registered Neil’s reaction. His beautiful eyes widened almost imperceptibly, and he quickly dropped your gaze, choosing to stare at the table instead. The only sign that you were heard was how his thumb stroked your hand repeatedly, “I hope you’ll be back before the premiere,” using the only way you knew of lightening the conversation, you made sure to slip in a playful tone.

Ever since the day you had shared joyous news with Neil, he often asked about the preparations for the ballet. He seemed genuinely interested in the process, the rehearsals, and your impressions at every stage.

When you innocently hinted at a costume fitting in your texts Neil immediately asked for a picture. You complied, gleefully posing in the dressing room mirror wearing the whole get-up, complete with pointe shoes, tights, and a white ballet tutu with the accents of blue flower petals. All in all, you had the right to believe that Neil would be interested in coming to see the ballet when it premiered. You had that covered.

“I’ll do my best,” his hopeful smile was enough to distract you, for soon Neil followed it with a question, “Do I get an invite?”

The cheeky smile was back in full force, almost wiping you off the surface of the Earth. More of that, please. Feeling brave, you slowly tangled your fingers with his to raise your joined hands from the tabletop and squeezed his palm. It was a silly question to ask. You had to make sure Neil knew that.

“Well, duh,” you started with an eye roll, taking pleasure from the feel of his hand holding yours, “I’m going to need a personal cheerleader for when I fail big time,” it was a rare thing to hear you admit the fear and anxieties out loud.

Most of the time, they only existed in your mind, never expressed. And especially not in a conversation because that fear of someone else confirming all you feared was overwhelming. It was better to appear invincible to the world than to let them know your weaknesses. Somehow this logic did not want to apply itself to Neil. No, he has heard it all. And yet, he did not seem keen on confirming you were right to doubt yourself.

“That’s not going to happen. You’ll be the perfect Cupid,” punctuating the encouragement with a squeeze of the hand, Neil shot you a brilliant grin.

The nickname was growing on you. It was also the cause of a few silly smiles during the rehearsals when you were addressed with your character role. That was alright, too.

Now, with the force of his beautiful smile shining upon you like a rare beacon of hope, you tried your hardest not to let the praise consume you whole. Instead, you turned to the faithful vice of sarcasm as you let go of his hand and settled your chin on your folded palms. Eyelashes and doe eyes in full force. Naturally.

“Wow, my charms must be working if you’re this blindsided,” curling the corner of your mouth in a smirk, your eyes roamed over his face in familiar patterns.

It was refreshing to remember why you invited him out in the first place. Why you have decided to break the unwritten role and step on the line you both had been tiptoeing from day one. Why nothing was holding you back from reaching for what you wanted.

This time, Neil did not turn away from your taxing gaze and met it head-on. Almost as if permitting you to proceed with whatever you desired.

“You’ve no idea, sweetheart,” mirroring your tentative smirk, Neil offered you a wink and picked up the coffee cup.

You were certainly not going to eschew a chance like that.

***

As far as first dates (could he even call it that?) went, meeting up for coffee and letting the conversations run without a disaster somewhere in between was rare. Even rarer still considering that Neil did not know how he got to this point and whether it was not all a dream. The jury was out on that. Even though Sunday was now two days ago, the meeting was still fresh in his mind, posing a thousand questions.

Because he really did not know how he got that place. The only certainty was that sometime between the surprising Saturday night meeting at Leicester Square station and the day after, Cupid made up her mind and chose to strike. Alternatively, she decided to act considering the realisations he was not privy to. Sure, that night at the station almost ended with a kiss. He knew that. He was there. But it did not offer answers as towards why an almost kiss made her behave in contrast to what Neil thought he understood about her.

Because a date was definitely a step above flirting. And it was hard to understand what that meant. If anything at all.

Now, on a rainy Tuesday afternoon, Neil stared out the window of the HQ cafeteria and tried his hardest not to think about it (her) for a change. It was not going well, as one could expect. From the corner of his eye, he could tell Ives was staring. Those piercing blue eyes (bluer than his, which has once or twice been proved during a night out as those things usually are) have been glancing his way instead of focusing on the sandwich on his plate. What a prick (affectionate). After what felt like a fiftieth glance, Neil dropped the napkin onto his place with force and turned towards Ives with a glare. The patience has worn out.

“Oh, just spit it out,” Neil hissed the words with ire.

The grin spreading upon Ives’ lips did not help a bit. The soldier leaned forward, abandoning his food and setting the perceptive eyes upon his friend. Mercilessly. With years of friendship, Neil knew this was not ending well.

“I haven’t said a word,” the man shrugged; a picture-perfect nonchalance.

If only.

“But you’ve been staring,” Neil’s attempt at covering up the tension with a bored tone failed.

He knew that as soon as he saw Ives’ unimpressed smile. There were no doubts about where this conversation was heading. It was the interrogation Neil had feared from day one. It was only a matter of time. Damn it.

“Go ask Henrik. Maybe he can help you gauge my eyes,” in moments like this, Ives’ cockney accent came out in full force, tearing at the shreds of patience Neil seemed to have.

Despite himself, he cracked a smile at the comeback.

“Doubtful,” quickly hiding it in the sip of tea, Neil muttered a quip of his own.

While Henrik, the team’s medic, was a peculiar man, it was improbable he would be into that kind of thing. Unfortunately.

“Eh, I wouldn’t put it past him,” before he could hope this was the end of the conversation, Ives levelled him with another no-bullshit look and delivered the sentence in four simple words, “Mate, spit it out,”

If only it were that easy. For one, Neil did not even know what there was to tell. Sure, he has met a girl. He was probably thinking too much about said girl daily. But that was it. The end of the story. Pathetic, as per usual.

“I’d rather not,” as the last resort of keeping his dignity intact, Neil averted his gaze and fixed his stare on the dirty floor of the cantina.

A solitary potato chip was lying there, attracting attention. For one, maddening second, his brain tried to concoct an elaborate metaphor in which he was like that lonely, forgotten chip on the ground.

Thankfully, the idea was soon dispersed by his irreplicable companion and his booming voice, cutting through the idiotic thoughts:

“I beg to differ,” the hint of reassurance in Ives’ voice was responsible for luring Neil into listening, just as the soldier delivered the question, “What’s her name? His name? Their name?”

Admittedly, the inclusive way of asking was a nice touch from someone who frequently lacked decorum. Or, more accurately, did not bother with it. It was that addition that made Neil crack, with the final resolve crumbling as he tried to protest:

“There’s no- Cupid,” giving out a tired sigh, Neil finally raised his head and repeated the nickname with something ridiculously close to the softness of affection, “I call her Cupid,”

It made no sense. He knew that. But it did not help that whenever he thought of her, that stupid, embarrassing part of his heart was roused awake from periodical slumber. So much for being reasonable.

As soon as Ives whistled lowly and that familiar sardonic grin appeared on his face, Neil knew it was a mistake.

“Kinky,” his murderous glare got ignored in favour of another pressing question, “Who’s the lucky lady?”

Lucky was definitely an overstatement if you asked Neil. But he did not fancy getting into the specifics of the relationships yet. Instead, he happily let himself delve back into memories of that first meeting. He still could not find other apt ways to describe it than a strike of fate. Dramatic? Sure, that was his second name.

He did doubt that Ives would appreciate the insane poetic ruminations, however.

“I’ve met her at the Tube, and she’s a ballerina… Pretty fucking cool, at that” that was a non-negotiable fact. Period.

Yet from the way his friend stared at him, Neil could easily deduct that here, too, he sounded like the insane idiot that he was. An idiot that finds friends on the Tube and lets that develop into something else. Something he tried very hard not to define. It was going splendidly well. Of course.

“Uh oh,” as if reading his mind, Ives, the prick, pasted on a silly grin and bated his eyelashes down at him, continuing the interrogation, “Is that a crush I’m sensing?”

Fuck. That was, indeed, a mistake.

Not that there was a crush because there absolutely wasn’t anything of that sort. Idiot, he might have been, but not… No. No. Which is exactly why Neil had to pause to cover his face with his hands and let out a deep sigh. Conveniently ignoring Ives and his bullshit assumptions.

Only once he felt like the annoyance had simmered to an acceptable white noise, Neil dropped the hands covering his face and met his destiny in the form of an infuriating sardonic smile.

“No, she’s just… I’m fascinated, okay? I’ve never met anyone like her before, and we’ve got a good thing going with weekly chats and… stuff,” running out of steam, Neil let the last word trail off into silence.

He knew what it all sounded like. He did. Except that there was no better way of describing it (them) to the outside world. And he was certainly not keen on showing Ives the texts. Not after the last conversation this morning, which involved more innuendos and another rendition of What socks are you wearing? - his favourite game. Truly. What made the exchange more incriminating, however, was the fact that Cupid’s current socks brandished an image of an adorable pug with a caption: “Send dog pics”. Yeah, that. That was a theme he was so far happy to ignore. Kind of.

“Did you kiss her yet?” another ridiculous question acted like a wake-up call as Neil felt the loathed, crimson blush fill his cheeks.

“What is this? Middle school?” another outburst got met with a stoically blank face, not helping to ease the shame of being so goddamn transparent “No, I didn’t,” I wish, “We danced” offering the alternative lowkey felt like self-sacrifice.

Not because Neil was embarrassed of what had happened that Saturday night but because it stayed a secret to anyone who was not him or Cupid. At least, that is what she told him, much to inexplicable surprise, which he could not and would not try to understand.

“I never knew you dance,” the soldier’s remark, as always, missed the mark.

Annoyance at the whole world, at this rate, rose at a steady pace. Perhaps it would have been more accurate to say that Neil was frustrated at the circumstances of the relationship with the woman in question, but it was too soon for self-realisation to do its work.

“Of course, I do,” instead, it was the distant feel of pity that nagged at the edges of his soul as Neil allowed the dismissive reflection to be voiced without the veil of fake pep, “Anyway, none of it matters. She’s not into relationships, so…” he shrugged, aware of the pitiful picture.

In a way, it was easier to know that about her ahead of time. It was perfect information to push at his brain and heart whenever they got too comfortable with the situation. To remind them (and himself) that it was not going anywhere, and it never would.

But, for some infuriating reason, the heart tended to be a stubborn beast holding no regard for facts. Not that heart had anything to do with this just yet. Of course not. Neil just… liked her. As a human being likes another human being. Platonically.

“Surely, your roguish charm will convince her otherwise,” as expected, Ives looked as if he was trying very hard not to feel sorry for him and was failing.

The reassurance hardly worked if Neil was being honest. The existence of said roguish charm was highly debatable. But who was he to argue?

“Nah, it’s fine. I can be just friends with her” manifesting much, or whatever. It was a blessing to have a different topic to switch to, “Anyway, I’m not going to see her for the next couple of weeks since we’re leaving,” another attempt at a nonchalant shrug got lost in the heaviness Neil could not shake off if he tried.

Going off on a mission right now, in the middle of it all, was far from ideal. Neil liked his job, loved it even, but then, some operations felt like a drag from the moment they appeared on his desk. That was one of them.

“Yeah, Lisbon is on,” from the tiredness written all over Ives’ face, Neil could tell the lack of enthusiasm was shared, “Two weeks, but it might be longer,”

“Great,” sarcasm dripped from the word as Neil glanced at his friend and asked, “We’re going to bunk together?”

It was only half a joke. Because only the company made the perspective of that mission seem a little less daunting.

“You wish, love,” the answering grin on Ives’ face was the perfect punchline to the dramatic conversation. The soldier got up from the table with another quip, “You know I’m not into blondes,” he walked away without another glance, yet the laugh he elicited from Neil could be heard in the room above the cantina.

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