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daistea · 2 days

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"𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚜" - 𝙼𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚞𝚗 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

“Many think that the captain makes an effort to hide his emotions. He doesn’t. He’s an open book. It’s simply a very blank book, is all. There’s not much there to read.”

You knew what Cithis was getting at. You also knew there was more to read than what she thought, because Mithrun was your friend and you adored him and wanted to kiss his face with your face. Still, accepting that remained quite difficult.

(Learning a new language is always hard at first)

gn reader, implied to be a short lived race

5,000+ words :o

tw: minor description of violence and blood

Post-canon Mithrun, could be considered spoilers

An ink black eye flickered up and landed on your face. You knew it was there. You always knew when it was there. The light shiver that ran down your back was like a cold finger languidly tracing every bump of your spine.

You didn’t know whether you liked it or not.

But you accepted it, for the most part.

Mithrun’s gaze was devoid of light as you met it. It was only natural for his prosthetic eye to be glassy and lacking in life. Yet, his remaining eye was like that as well. Fleki liked to joke that the captain had ‘dead fish eyes’ and you could see what she meant sometimes. Most of the time, though, you considered his gaze to be more like an endless pit. An endless pit that you were always on the verge of falling into.

But you managed to keep your balance— for the most part.

It didn’t help that Mithrun stared. He stared, and stared, and stared. If you were in an especially combative mood, you’d meet his gaze and stare back. His good eye would start to flicker a little, like when a cat slowly shuts its eyes. You once heard that cats slow blink to signify that they love you. But Mithrun wasn’t a cat. He was an elf. An elf who had a habit of trying to consume you with his gaze alone.

It was one of the days when you couldn’t help but return his look. You glanced up from your plate of food, fork in your left hand and your other hand fiddling with a napkin. Ever since the dungeon, Mithrun had become more physically expressive. He had his elbow on the table and his cheek resting in his palm. As his sleeve fell down his forearm ever so slightly, you could see a hint of a pale scar.

“Don’t you ever get tired?” You couldn’t help but ask. The words were out of your mouth before you could stop to think about the consequences or implications.

Mithrun only blinked. A slow blink.

“No,” he answered simply. His voice wasn’t what one would call particularly deep or rumbling, but it was scratchy. When you heard him speak for the first time, you wondered if he had ever drank a glass of water in his life.

And the lack of inflection in his tone was something you eventually got used to. With a sharp ear, you could pick up the lilts at the end of his sentences when he asked a question. You recognized when he was annoyed, when the growl in his throat got more pronounced. You knew when he was sad, when emotion thickened every word. It was all subtle, learned. And you were good at learning.

For the most part.

“I don’t mean physically,” you replied, returning your attention to the food on your plate.

“Then?”

“I mean—” What did you mean? You weren’t quite sure. You were sure of the fact that you didn’t want this particular vegetable as part of your lunch. So you lifted your plate and absently scraped it off onto Mithrun’s. He didn’t react.

He did, though, slightly raise his brow. He shifted to sit up a little, moving his palm to his chin instead, eyes still lingering on you like petrichor after a rain shower. The slight tilt of his head told you that he was expecting an answer.

You forced the words to the tip of your tongue. It was rare for you to keep your thoughts to yourself, especially around Mithrun. As unreadable as he could be, the assurance that it was difficult to genuinely offend him was comforting. Except, this instance was different. If you openly acknowledged his habit of staring, that was too close for comfort to a much bigger acknowledgement. Mithrun’s heart, and yours, were closely guarded, surrounded by layers of walls. He’d knocked down a few of yours. You’ve knocked down several of his. But going any further was risky, at least in your opinion. The walls were bigger and more well guarded and seizing them might not produce anything good, anything worthwhile.

But his head was tilted and he was watching you. You felt as if you were on a stage with a spotlight shining down on you.

Might as well get it over with.

“Staring,” you said, “don’t you ever get tired of staring?”

His good eye blinked. You’ve seen Mithrun surprised or shocked before, and you knew he wasn’t. Then, that meant he was expecting that question. He was aware of his staring and was doing it on purpose.

“No, I don’t get tired of it,” Mithrun said as he sat up straight, elbow slipping off the table. He grabbed his fork and began poking at the food you had scraped off onto his plate. Peeking just barely through his hair were the chewed, jagged tips of his ears. They flickered. Elves really couldn’t hide their emotions well, their ears tended to give them away.

The fact that he was feeling anything made your heart flutter. If only you knew what it was. It couldn’t be embarrassment or shame, those didn’t exist within Mithrun. Then what? What else could someone be feeling when called out for their habit of excessive staring?

“I mean, I’d just like to know why,” you said without thinking, again. It was rare for either of you to feel as if you needed to fill the comfortable silence you often shared, but at that moment in particular your heart was clenching and something unpleasant passed through your abdomen. The question had crawled up your throat and slipped out of your mouth.

“Why I stare at you?” He asked. You were seventy five percent sure it was a question. But sometimes, Mithrun would simply state something, not asking at all, just echoing. You could usually tell the difference in the lift of his voice. Subtle, but there.

“Yeah,” you met his gaze. Ink black. You started to teeter on the edge of the dark pit again. “Do you stare at everybody like that?”

“Do you ever see me staring at other people like this?”

No. And Mithrun knew that you didn’t. The question was hypothetical, designed to draw the answer out of you.

You felt your jaw tighten as you stared down at your food. You’d missed something, a little morsel of a vegetable you didn’t like. You promptly scraped it off onto Mithrun’s plate before answering him. “I guess I don’t.”

“And?”

Fire flickered to life inside your chest. “And what?” You snapped your gaze back to his, “What do you want?”

His brow raised, “You’re the one who wanted something.”

“I want to know why you’re always staring!”

“Why do you think?”

You couldn’t help but groan, burying your face in your hand, “Mithrun, please just give me a straight answer. I can’t handle this right now.”

“Why not?”

Glancing up, you saw the corner of his mouth twitch ever so slightly. His ears flickered again. Was he enjoying this? As much as he could enjoy something, at least, which was more than before the dungeon.

That fire within you only grew taller and hotter and more destructive. The flames warmed your heart but also threatened to burn through your bones and muscles and ligaments and consume your body entirely. You didn’t know whether you wanted to smack Mithrun over the head, or grab the collar of his shirt and pull him close for a kiss.

Or both? Both were good.

You managed to resist the urge growing beneath your skin and instead shot him a weak glare, “Because— Because you’re not eating and it’s weird for me to be the only one eating right now, especially with you staring at me, watching me chew.”

Half true.

Mithrun’s nose wrinkled a little in thought. Slowly, he grabbed his fork and speared one of the unwanted vegetables you’d given him, finally eating. Relief flooded your body, until his gaze flickered back up to your face once more.

“Happy?” He asked before swallowing.

“Never,” you snarked back, “you’re still staring. Why?”

Did you want to know?

Another wall was crumbling and you were doing all you could to keep it from crushing you beneath bricks and emotions and emotional bricks. It was a mistake to ask that question, to even bring this subject up. You couldn’t go that far. You shouldn’t knock down those walls. You wouldn’t acknowledge the terrifying, unknown thing that had been growing between you and Mithrun ever since he’d decided to live.

You remembered that day. Celebrations surrounded you. Mithrun’s hand clenched the grass beneath him, the only betrayal of his feelings at the time. His knuckles turned white, but he finally let go as the realization, the emptiness, settled in; acceptance of the fact that he had nothing to live for anymore.

You remembered the relief when it all changed, when the listlessness disappeared. You remembered Senshi’s words. You remembered the sting of hot tears in the corners of your eyes as Mithrun smiled for the first time in forever.

It was a secret tucked inside your chest, kept close, chained up. But at night, when you stared at the ceiling with bright eyes and racing thoughts, you let the secret out just a little bit. You loved the captain like a desert dweller loved an oasis. You loved the captain like flowers loved rain. You loved the captain like—

“I can’t not stare at you,” Mithrun’s voice interrupted your thoughts. You crashed back down to Melini, to the restaurant and to him, shattering on the floor and making a complete mess.

“What?” Your voice was just as scratchy as his now. You grabbed your sweating glass of water and gulped it down.

Mithrun waited for you to finish before he continued, “I can’t not stare at you. It’s simply what I do. What I want.”

And he wanted so little.

The wall crumbled, and you internally cursed yourself before returning Mithrun’s gaze. “You don’t want that.”

“I want that.”

Was this really happening? Years of longing, of denial, of fear, all built up into one moment. And the moment was taking place in a dingy restaurant where you and Mithrun were surrounded by chattering people and the scrape of utensils on plates. Nearby, someone laughed. But it was as if cotton had been stuffed into your ears, your focus entirely on the elf sitting across from you— and his dead fish stare.

You began to consider your possibilities:

Option 1: Kiss him.

Option 2: Fake a heart attack to get out of this.

Option 3: Explain your fears about starting an official relationship with him.

Option two looked best.

You put a hand to your chest and coughed a little, “I-I think I’m—”

Mithrun rolled his good eye and stood up. The legs of his chair scraped across the ground as he loomed over the table, looking down at you. “Let’s go already, we have work to do.”

You scoffed, “I’m kind of busy having a heart attack here.”

“The heart attack excuse didn’t work when you wanted to get out of that dinner with the Canaries, and it won’t work now.”

He was right. He was always right. You hated that.

You stood up as well. Mithrun went to the front of the restaurant to pay. People used to cast him curious glances as he passed by, but very few did that anymore. The locals of Melini knew who Mithrun was and were generally used to his presence. Plus, the kingdom had become a melting pot of different races and cultures as of late. Seeing an elf wasn’t too surprising these days.

You watched the back of his head. He had a curl there. He’d always had that curl. Something in the back of your mind desperately urged you to wrap it around your finger.

Mithrun cast you a flat glance as he made for the front door. “Are you going to just stand there? Or are you coming?”

Your frown covered up the flutter of your heart. You followed, silent, grumpy, your right hand itching to take his left.

And as you followed him into the street, you noticed, just for half a second, that his fingers flexed, then curled into a fist before releasing.

This was bad. How could the people of Melini happily go about their lives as your world started to shift? How was the sun still shining? Why didn’t time stop for you as the growing thing between you and Mithrun got too large to ignore?

(Perhaps you were being too dramatic.)

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

The captain did not only stare. He touched.

It was weird, really, because he didn’t enjoy being touched. Mithrun would prefer to keep his personal space, you knew. The Canaries often invaded it and he said nothing to stop them, but you saw the twitch of his ear, the slight narrowing of his good eye. Lately, since he’d been learning how to be more expressive, he would sigh. It was that kind of sigh that told the listener precisely what he wanted, the kind of sigh that spoke a thousand words his lips refused to say. Those thousands of words usually consisted of ‘get away from me’ or ‘stop touching me.’

He never sighed with you.

But perhaps that was because you knew better than to invade his personal space. He had no qualms invading yours. He touched you. Often. At first, you noticed it too much. The feeling of Mithrun’s hand on the small of your back made your mind race with questions. Eventually, you got used to it and hardly noticed it anymore.

But that hyper awareness had returned since the staring conversation.

And also since the staring conversation, he touched you more than ever before.

Mithrun’s long fingers wrapped around your wrist. They were always cold, for some reason. He held up your wrist between your bodies, but he wasn’t looking at you. His attention was on something rustling through the forest. His other hand leaned against the rough bark of a tree. There was absolutely no reason for Mithrun to be holding your wrist right now, but you had a feeling he didn’t even notice what he was doing.

“Quiet,” he said in a low tone, casting you a glance, “there’s someone up ahead.”

“Someone?” You asked, “Not something?”

“Yes. Someone.”

Melini had many types of people. Most of them were good, interested in the future of the nation. Yet the existence of an entirely new country caught the attention of other types of people. The laws weren’t yet established, Laois didn’t really care about imposing taxes, and homes were still being built. While it had settled down as of late, criminals still flocked to the area.

Mithrun cast you another glance. His good eye, black, flickered up and down your body. The look only lasted for half a second, but it still made heat flare up in your abdomen.

“Stay here,” he commanded.

The heat disappeared as you sent him an incredulous stare, “Excuse me?”

“Stay here,” he echoed.

“No,” the argument escaped your lips quickly and harshly, “I’m going with you. There could be any number of people out here and I won’t let you face them alone.”

His eye narrowed slightly as he turned to fully face you, “There’s a chance I won’t even be fighting. They could simply be hikers.”

“Don’t lie to me, I know when you’re on edge.”

Another narrowed eye, another flicker of his ears. The chewed tips slowly lowered, pressing back against his head, barely visible through wavy locks of silver. You’ve always thought that when elves did that, they looked quite aerodynamic.

“Fine,” his voice was flatter than usual, “but stay close to me. I won’t allow you to be hurt.”

Mithrun released your wrist, but his fingers deftly slid down your skin, across your palm. A shiver ran through you as he tangled your fingers together. They were puzzle pieces fitting perfectly, created specifically to hold each other.

And Mithrun didn’t seem the slightest bit affected by the fact that he was now holding your hand. He simply turned and began trudging through the foliage of the forest, gently pulling you behind him. Did he have any idea what he’d done? Did his sharpened elf hearing notice the pumping of your heart? Would he even acknowledge it?

He held your hand tight, as if afraid you would slip away.

“They know we see them,” Mithrun murmured. Tension filled the air and threatened to suffocate you. It was the feeling of danger, and a tingling through your limbs that made your hairs stand to attention.

He pushed aside a thorn bush, not caring when the sharp tips pricked his skin or when they clung to his clothes like childish hands trying to desperately keep him from leaving. He slowed down a little so you could navigate the bushes more carefully. His fingers slipped away from yours, but he kept your hand, holding it up like a gentleman helping a lady out of a carriage.

The moment you escaped the bush, he interlocked your fingers once more.

Your mind raced as you followed him. Why was Mithrun holding your hand? What did it mean? Was he trying to acknowledge your relationship? Impossible. That was impossible. Mithrun surely didn’t want a relationship with you. There was something between you two, obviously, but it wasn’t anything either of you were ever going to do anything about. At least you thought as much. His desires weren’t just going to randomly appear again. And surely you weren’t special enough to cultivate anything new within him. No, Mithrun was just being—

The taut pull of a bow string filled the air. It happened too quickly. The whish of an arrow cutting through the atmosphere— it sliced the tension in half so smoothly, like butter. You only caught a glimpse of it as it came straight for your chest.

But it never hit you. You’d closed your eyes without realizing, but when you recognized an utter lack of pain, your eyes shot open to inspect the situation.

Mithrun still held your hand. Tight. A little too tight. You could see his jawline clenched, his ears pushed back. In front of you, only inches away from your chest, was the arrow. He’d caught it mid air. His hand was wrapped around the shaft and his knuckles were white as he gripped it.

Your heart didn’t just skip. It flipped, did an entire gymnastics routine, then promptly flopped onto the floor and passed out.

There were wasps in your stomach. Not butterflies. Wasps.

And Mithrun was angry. His chest rose and fell before he slipped his hand away from yours. You only caught a glimpse of his face as he turned away, but you could see the flicker of silver consuming the black; the crackle of a flame, the flip of a switch, a lightning strike in the distance.

He reared his arm back and promptly launched the arrow at something between the trees. A guttural noise erupted. It was thick with something, pain or blood or shock or fear. A tall-man stumbled out of hiding with the arrow lodged in the front of his neck, then he collapsed face down in the grass.

Silence.

Mithrun lowered his arm and stood up straight, staring at the body.

Your throat was strangled, but you managed to push the question out nonetheless. “Did you just… throw a goddamn arrow so hard that it went through a man’s neck?”

“Hm?” Mithrun sent you a glance, his eye widening just the slightest bit. But it returned to the black pit that you were seconds away from falling into. “Oh, yeah, I did.”

“Just now,” you pointed at the literal corpse laying in front of you, “you killed him.”

His brows furrowed, “Obviously.”

“Why?”

“He was going to kill you,” Mithrun looked at you as if the answer was clear and he was genuinely confused at your bewilderment. He lifted his hand, the left one, and held it out for you expectantly.

While your mind raced with questions and horror and a bit of admiration, you placed your hand in his. The air smelled like blood, metallic. Mithrun told you that he wouldn’t allow you to get hurt. He meant it. It felt as if someone had knocked the wind out of your lungs.

Maintaining eye contact, he leaned forward, pressing his dry lips to your knuckles. The forest, the chirping of birds, even the warmth of the sun overhead, faded into the background. All you knew at that moment were his cold fingers holding yours, the feeling of his lips on your skin, the lingering look he was giving you.

Damn.

His expression wasn’t blank this time. His good eye wasn’t lifeless. He looked at you through his lashes, his gaze glued to your face. Or perhaps not glued, but rather welded. He didn’t smile, he didn’t blush. But the intent was clear. His lips gently brushed across your knuckles for precisely four seconds, but it felt like an eternity. Your heart started to do its gymnastics routine again.

You could’ve lived beneath the spotlight of his gaze forever.

Yet soon enough, he dropped your hand and turned away. The tension dissipated like mist as he began walking, casually stepping over the corpse. “Let’s go. There’s been reports of a cockatrice nearby.”

Right. Monsters. Work.

You looked at the corpse and the blood soaking into the soft earth, drying to a darker color on the leaves and grass. You should’ve been horrified, but…

The fact that Mithrun was willing to kill for you only made you burn. Your knees were weak.

This was a desperate situation. This was a confusing situation. This was the kind of situation that required an expert.

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

“Are you stupid?” Cithis asked.

Perhaps. You weren’t quite sure anymore.

You held a coffee mug tightly, wrapping both hands around it as you sent Cithis a pleading look. She returned your expression with something like boredom and disinterest. White braided hair fell over her bare shoulder. She sat across from you with one knee over the other and her hands politely clasped in her lap. While this elf woman was the picture of elegance, you knew what she really was. You knew how she could be.

Which was precisely why you’d come to her.

“I don’t understand,” you began explaining, feeling a ramble coming on, “he stares at me. He holds my hand. He gets furious if someone tries to hurt me. He looks at me sometimes with this face that almost makes me think he wants me. He—”

“I think you’re stupid,” Cithis interrupted casually, “Or in denial. You know precisely how the captain feels. Admit it already and stop wasting everybody’s time.”

You couldn’t help but scowl, “I don’t want to admit it.”

“Why not?”

“Because—” the words got caught in your throat and you had to forcefully shove them up and outwards, “Because it freaks me out. I don’t want to ruin the comfort between us. I don’t want Mithrun to one day get tired of me. I don’t want to… to die and leave him behind. He deserves better than that.”

Cithis only tilted her head, “Don’t you think he deserves to get what he wants? How often does the captain want something?”

Rarely. And you held the firm belief that when Mithrun wanted something, the world should bend its knee to meet that desire. Yet, this was different. Did he want you? Why? How? How can you be sure? Cithis seemed sure. How? Why?

Her stare was unamused. She looked at you as if you were a dead fly that landed in her food.

“I guess I just don’t want to assume,” you finally said with a heavy exhale.

“There’s no assumptions to be made here. He wants you. Everybody knows it.”

Your head shot up, “What?”

“Everybody knows it,” her eyes narrowed.

Nonsense. That couldn’t be true. You scoffed, “No.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Listen,” Cithis leaned forward in her chair, pinning you in place with topaz yellow eyes— or piss yellow, how you described her eyes usually changed depending on your mood. “Many think that the captain makes an effort to hide his emotions. He doesn’t. He’s an open book. It’s simply a very blank book, is all. There’s not much there to read.”

You shot Cithis a dark look. Her lips twitched into a smile that held not even a hint of humor.

“I’m aware,” you said, “however, that doesn’t mean I understand. Does he even know how to flirt? Does he know how a relationship would work with him in this state? Do I know how a relationship would work between us? Does he have any desire to be, you know, intimate? Does he—”

Cithis interrupted, “Honestly, I believe the captain would burn down the world just to keep you warm. But that’s just my observation.”

What?

“What?”

“Idiot,” she huffed, “he touches you every chance he gets as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he doesn’t have his hands on you in some way. He stares at you like you’re a damn masterpiece—”

“He stares at me rather blankly, actually.”

“But he’s still staring.”

“Maybe I’ve always got food in my teeth or something on my face.”

“You know I don’t really enjoy doing this.” Cithis leaned back in her chair and twirled a lock of hair around her finger. Her piss yellow eyes narrowed, “It’s much more interesting to watch you and the captain silently orbit each other than it is to so dramatically reveal his feelings. Yet, I think it’s time you stop being foolish and give him what he wants. He’s developed this odd love language for you and I think you should start learning it.”

She was right. You hated it when Cithis was right.

But that was why you’d consulted her in the first place, because you knew she’d be right. Still, how annoying.

“Okay,” you threw your hands up, “What do I do? What’s the next step?”

She smiled softly, but her furrowed brows and pitying eyes made it clear that she was condescending you. You were a child trying to ask her why the sky was blue.

“Kiss him, obviously.”

Kiss him. Just kiss him. How simple. How elementary. The idea of kissing him definitely didn’t fill you with stinging wasps or anything.

All you could do was close your eyes to block out the sight of Cithis’s condescension. “Yeah. Kiss him. That’s– Yeah.”

“Now go,” she waved a dismissive, elegant hand, “off with you.”

Whatever. You shot her a glare before setting the warm coffee mug on the table in front of her. You’d been gripping it like a lifeline, and you hoped it left a ring on her nice table. Her lips parted in silent offense at the tiny act of revenge.

You left Cithis’s home. Were you assured? Yes. Were you going to kiss Mithrun? Probably not.

There was still so much to sort through, still so many concerns. Mithrun wanted you and, apparently, everybody knew it. He hadn’t even been trying to hide his feelings all this time. You accepted his staring and his touching and his willingness to do anything you asked as simple friendship.

Maybe you should kiss him.

Maybe you should—

“What’re you doing?”

A shout ripped from your throat. You couldn’t control yourself, you stumbled backward, putting up your hands as your heart jumped and your stomach churned. You knew who it was that had snuck up on you. He did this all the time.

“Mithrun,” you hissed, “stop teleporting to me, you know it drives me up a wall!”

Mithrun’s nose twitched ever so slightly. He was considering your words, just a little. Then he shook his head, “No. I don’t think I’ll stop.”

Right. Okay. So, he wasn’t willing to do anything you asked of him. Again, you could only wonder if he enjoyed this. Did Mithrun like getting on your nerves?

You two were standing outside of Cithis’s little house. She should’ve been in jail, really, but she and the other Canaries had been pardoned, sort of. It was really more like a house arrest. You knew that Cithis didn’t care enough to watch you and Mithrun out her window, but it was still unnerving to be so near her, knowing what she knew.

Now, you were the one grabbing him. You took his wrist, gently pulling him down the road. “Come on, we need to talk,” you said.

Mithrun’s good eye widened just a little as you led him through the streets of Melini. It was more crowded than usual. Merchants called out to passersby and people laughed and talked and lived their own little lives. And this was your life, now, pulling the man you adored through a crowd in a desperate attempt to find a quiet, private spot.

You still hadn’t decided whether or not to kiss him.

There was an alley nearby. It seemed relatively clean. You and Mithrun entered the alley and walked around the corner of a stone building before you released his wrist. Yet, immediately, he took your hand, unwilling to allow even a second of no contact between your bodies.

The words came flowing out of your mouth as if a dam had broken within you. “Your love language, I’m learning it.”

He only blinked, “What?”

“Physical touch,” you raised your other hand, wrapping it around his, “quality time,” you met his eye and considered the possibility of drifting in black ink forever, “acts of service.”

He blinked once more. “Oh. I see.”

Your brows furrowed, “Why were you near Cithis’s house anyway?”

“I was simply passing by when I saw you.”

“And your first response was to teleport to my side?”

His head tilted slightly, “Yes. It was.”

“Why?”

Now it was his turn to furrow his brows, “Why not? It’s what I wanted to do, so I did it.”

“And the staring,” you murmured, breathless, “the hand holding, the lingering touches… That’s what you want as well?”

You didn’t expect Mithrun to react strongly to this conversation, and his reaction fulfilled your expectations. He remained calm, but his gaze lingered strongly on yours. His other hand slowly raised and he cupped your cheek, his thumb tracing soft circles onto your skin. You couldn’t help but lean into the touch.

“Yes,” he answered, voice as scratchy and tired and level as ever, “that’s what I want.”

“Why?”

His composure broke just slightly. His eye narrowed and his lips quirked into a little frown. “Why wouldn’t I want to touch and stare at my partner?”

…What?

“Excuse me?” Your tone was thick with disbelief as your heart began to do flips. “Your partner?”

“Yes?” His brows furrowed and he blinked a few times as if confused, “My partner.”

“...Me?”

“Yeah.”

“But—” it was as if someone had punched you in the lungs, “Me?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m your partner?”

A sigh as he closed his eyes. “Yes. You’re my partner. You have been for the last year.”

“...Huh?”

His eyes opened to pin you in place, “Were you not aware that we’ve been dating for this long?”

“No!” You couldn’t help yell, “I wasn’t aware! I thought we were just good friends!”

Mithrun said your name, tilting his head with a hint of a smile on his lips. He was amused. How rare. You only wish it wasn’t at your expense. “I wouldn’t do these things with just a good friend.”

Alright. Cithis was right in calling you an idiot.

You felt like you were about to explode. You weren’t sure if that explosion would be from anger, embarrassment, or adoration. All three? You were going to self combust, then your flesh would fly everywhere and get on the walls and cause this huge, bloody mess. All that would be left of you were chunks. But if that happened, Mithrun wouldn’t be able to hold your hand anymore. He wouldn’t be able to stare. You weren’t about to take that away from him. The world needed to kneel and deliver him whatever he desired on a silver platter and you were not about to stop that from happening just because you exploded.

“I am in love with you,” you said matter-of-factly. It was pure word vomit.

“Yeah,” he remained calm, “I know.”

He knew. Of course he knew. You wanted so badly to smack him over the head.

“If you knew…” your voice was strangled as you resisted every urge to scream, “then why haven’t you ever kissed me?”

Mithrun shrugged. He shrugged.

“Do you want me to?”

“Yes!” You snapped.

“Alright.” He released your hand, then grabbed your face and gently pulled you closer. His lips met yours. You wanted to melt. You were basically a popsicle on a hot summer day, then. And you had no clue what to do with your hands.

The kiss was… chaste. And soft. You weren’t quite sure what you expected. Certainly not passion, not from Mithrun. But chaste? That wasn’t right either. It was kind of… laid back, as if he’d kissed you a million times before and this was just another to add to the pile.

That wouldn’t do.

You figured out what to do with your hands. One gripped the front of his shirt, balling your fingers up in the fabric. The other stretched around his neck and tangled into his hair. He made a small noise of surprise. Satisfaction flickered through your chest. Gently, but firmly, you pulled him closer to you. Your back hit the stone wall. Your chests brushed against each other. His left hand dropped from your cheek and found your waist as he dug his fingers in and suddenly yanked your body against his.

There. That was better.

Slowly, Mithrun deepened the kiss, tilting his head. His hand slid away from your cheek and found a resting place on the back of your neck. You were both breathing through your noses as you kissed and kissed and kissed and kissed.

Heat began to build up in your abdomen. Your entire body tingled. He pushed you further against the wall and let out a soft exhale before introducing a soft bite on your lower lip. Another flash of heat wracked you, leaving you breathless.

Finally, the need for oxygen dominated and Mithrun pulled back, but only a few inches. He rested his forehead against yours and closed his eyes, letting out an exhale.

“I think… I like that,” he murmured, “We should do more of it.”

All you could do was nod weakly.

“Right. More,” you leaned in, pressing your lips against his, and it started all over again.

One might call it a new beginning. In reality, it was a continuation of what always was. You set aside your endless questions and kissed him. And kissed him. And kissed him some more.

You’d officially fallen off the edge. No more teetering, no more balance. You were gone, and you’d never hit the ground.

#ehehe #I take requests btw #rubs my dirty little raccoon hands together #will I ever write for another character? perhaps #x reader #reader insert #mithrun x reader #mithrun #mithrun of the house of kerensil #dungeon meshi #dunmeshi #delicious in dungeon #my writing #writing #dungeon meshi imagines #dungeon meshi x reader #gn reader

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dxxdhood · 9 hours

Text

take care

pairing: jason todd x gn!reader

summary: when you have a bad day at work, jason knows just the way to help you unwind.

tags: smut (18+), dom!jason todd, sub!reader, fingering, teasing, dirty talk, massages

wc: 2.1k

No matter what you try to tell yourself, you can’t stop crying. Ever since you woke up this morning, it feels like life has been throwing you the worst possible things to deal with– people being casually rude to you, your boss expecting unreasonable amounts of work done. After finally falling into bed, you completely lose it, sobbing so hard your body starts shivering.

Jason won’t be back for another couple of hours at least, and usually that’s enough time for you to unwind from work, but today you can’t stomach the thought of doing anything. Instead, you slip into sleep while the tears are still fresh on your face.

There’s a warm pat on your shoulder, and for a second, the bliss of sleep follows you from your nap into reality. But all too soon, you remember the day you’ve had and the tenseness from earlier sinks back into you.

“Hey,” Jason whispers, his hand still resting on your shoulder. “You alright?”

“Yeah– I’m,” You shake your head, stumbling across the half of the blanket that’s made it on the floor as you walk to the bathroom. “I’m just really tired. I’m going to shower, I forgot to earlier.”

You catch Jason’s concerned look from the corner of your eye, but you try not to stress about how you’re worrying him. As soon as the door closes behind you, you grip the bathroom counter and look at your reflection.

You’re so exhausted you look sick, but you don’t want to bother Jason with your own worries right now. When he’s not on patrol, he’s always researching more ways he can stop crime and minimize conflict. Really, he doesn’t have a ton of time of his own to relax, so you really shouldn’t burden him with your feelings.

After a half-hearted shower, you toss on a T-shirt and shorts before walking towards the living room. Jason’s lounging on the couch, and he waves you over to watch a movie– Pride & Prejudice 2005.

“Oh? What’s the occasion?” You say, trying for cheerful.

“Just thought we could use something familiar,” He says, placing a blanket on top of you before wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

“I’m still going to need you to explain half of what’s going on, I can’t keep up with all the characters.”

“That’s why we’re watching it,” He kisses your cheek. “I just tricked you into listening to me ramble about my favorite book.”

You giggle, and for a second you almost feel light enough to enjoy the moment. You can’t shake the feeling that you’re forgetting something, though, and when it hits you, you nearly kick the blanket off of you.

“Shit! I didn’t make anything for dinner!”

“Hey, hey,” Jason moves his hand to rub the back of your neck. “It’s okay, I got something going in the oven.”

You settle back into your place on the couch, but you feel terrible. It was your turn to make dinner today since you got off your shift first. You can’t believe you let yourself fall asleep instead! Jason doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest, he just cuddles into your side further as you both watch the camera pan around Elizabeth Bennett.

Suddenly, it hits you. You know how to make up for worrying him and forgetting about dinner. At first, you subtly try and bring your hand under the blanket, feeling around until you find his thigh. When you make contact, Jason gives you a look, trying to gauge whether or not it was intentional. You give him a cheeky smile as you continue.

Jason settles into the couch, just laying back and allowing you to do what you want, still figuring out why you’re suddenly in the mood. You run your nails against the inside of his thigh, lightly at first before digging in just a little, knowing he likes it a little rough.

You finally palm him through his shorts and he lets out a small gasp. His shoulders seem to fall back and you swear you can see some of the tension Jason always carries around leaving him. Carefully, you wrap your hand around his cock, and you lazily stroke him through the fabric as he exhales through his nose. You’re about to crawl under the blanket to take off his shorts when Jason grabs you by the shoulder and pulls you up to face him.

“Alright, that’s enough of that.”

“Huh? Don’t you want me to,” you gesture to his lap instead of letting your words trip you up. “I mean, I just started now, so I should really–”

“What are you talking about?” Jason shakes his head, his fluffy hair shifts with him.

“Look, I–” You massage your forehead, trying to work through some of your anxiety. “I was going to do something for you, Jason, so just let me–”

Jason slides his hand from your shoulder across your arm until he’s supporting your hand, bringing it in so he can kiss your knuckles.

“You’re always doing stuff for me,” He whispers. “Let me return the favor.”

The speed at which you break eye contact and begin fiddling with the blanket speaks volumes to Jason. You gulp as he lowers your hand, careful not to overstep. You know that if you say the word, the two of you can stop and go back to watching the movie in front of you. But still, no matter how much residual stress keeps bothering you, you want to know what Jason has in mind for you.

“Yes,” you say.

“What?” Jason leans in, not having heard you the first time.

“Yeah–” you try to fight against your own embarrassment at accepting the invitation. “I’d like you to… take care of me.”

For a moment, the two of you sit in silence before Jason bursts into giggles. You have the sense to feel offended, but he quickly wraps his arms around you and rests his head on your shoulder.

“God, lighten up, will you? You sound so serious, it’s not that big a deal.”

Immediately you fail at keeping a straight face, and although you really don’t want to give him the win, you end up letting out a snort.

“Alright, come on,” He taps your back. “Lay on your stomach.”

“What’re you doing?” You ask, even though you’re already maneuvering into position, tossing the blanket off the couch in the process.

“Just trust me, okay? Relax, I’ve got you.”

Jason’s hands are warm when they reach your back. You take in a small inhale, not quite sure what you were expecting. He moves his hands softly at first, just stroking the skin of your back and shoulders to get you accustomed to the feeling. As soon as you start getting comfortable, he starts applying the slightest bit of pressure, kneading at your shoulder muscles.

A sound escapes you that you’re not proud of, and though you’re certain Jason is smirking, you refuse to turn around and see it. Sighing into the couch cushions, you close your eyes and let yourself fade into the feeling. Jason moves downward, massaging your back in slow motions, carefully running his knuckle down the small of your back. It’s incredible, more than, but it doesn’t feel like nearly enough.

“You can press harder, you know.”

He huffs, “See, I was thinking that, but if I hurt you right now I don’t think I’d be able to forgive myself.”

Jason has a talent for saying things like that, things that make you melt no matter what’s running through your head. To his credit, he tries, kneading out all the knots across your back, but still with lighter pressure than you would’ve given to yourself.

“Is that alright?” He asks. “You want me to keep going?”

You hum, already starting to sink into the feeling. Jason continues, hands roaming all across your back. Your eyes start to close and you can feel yourself slipping into sleep before a hand starts to move down your body, gently feeling up your ass.

“Okay?” Jason says.

“Okay–” and as soon as you respond, he kneads the sore muscles in your upper thighs and ass, and although it causes a part of you to completely melt into the cushions, a part of you feels like you’ve just had a fire lit within you.

“Jason,” you start. “If you keep going, I might… uh–”

“No, you can say it,” he whispers as he leans in, covering your body with his own so you can feel his breath across your cheek. “Tell me what I do to you.”

“Shit–” you bury your head into the couch, but Jason carefully sets hand on your head and helps you make eye contact with him.

“Talk to me,” his voice drops low. “I can’t give you what you want if you don’t tell me.”

He places a hand on top of one of yours resting in front of you. You flip your hand over and interlock your fingers with his. A barely audible exhale escapes from Jason as he gives your hand a squeeze.

“I want you to finger me.”

He’s smirking as he kisses your cheek, his lips trailing lower to your jawline before you even have time to register his movements. It’s like a switch has flipped in him, like he’s finally allowing himself to let loose for your sake. Like all he ever wants is to make you feel good if only you’ll allow him to.

The hand not holding yours moves from your ass to your inner thigh, softly rubbing circles only centimeters away from your slit. He catches you closing your eyes again, getting lost in the comfort around you and he gives your upper thigh a pinch.

You give a small shout, and Jason uses the opening to slot two fingers in your mouth. He doesn’t even need to give the command, you’re already sucking him on instinct. Always efficient, Jason unclasps your hands to reach for the lube in the side table drawer while you’re distracted. He pulls his fingers from your mouth with a pop.

“Are you ready, baby?”

“Because I can keep going if you’re not ready–” he pretends, as if he didn’t have a perfect view of your signal.

You nod, but your head is still mostly shoved against the surface of the couch.

“Jason! Fucking go!”

He snickers as lubes his fingers before gently working one in. How typical, even when he’s being nice, he still can’t help but be a tease. His pace is slow but thorough, working himself all the way into your heat before sliding out, only to rush back whenever you seem to get used to the sensation.

Already being relaxed from the massage must be getting to you, because as soon as you stretch to accommodate his second finger, your breathing starts to quicken. He speeds up slightly, moving to kiss the spot between your jaw and neck, nibbling a small mark despite knowing it’s in the perfect spot to be seen.

He finally starts hitting the spot inside of you where he’s needed, and you almost yelp in relief.

“Faster,” you sigh, and gratefully, Jason listens. He quickens his pace, hitting inside of you with accuracy, and leaning on top of you now to better the angle. You can feel the planes of his chest against your back, and the warmth radiating off of him causes your face to heat up.

“Ah–” you start, and Jason is able to get it out before you can.

“You’re close?”

This time when you nod your head, he accepts your answer and continues the same speed and intensity. He uses his other hand to grip you by the shoulder and force your head up so he can hear your gasps. Jason moves his head close to your ear again, and you can hear the smile in his voice when he whispers, “Come for me.”

You groan, naturally wanting to bury your cries into the cushions, but Jason’s grip stops you. The casual show of his strength has you thrusting back towards his fingers, and he dutifully works you through your orgasm until you’re finished.

He flips you so you don’t end up falling asleep with your airflow cut off, and under his observant gaze you finally stop trying to cover yourself up. You flash your teeth, and Jason rubs the curve of your cheek with his thumb before slipping off the couch to get a towel to clean up.

#dc comics #gn reader #smut #dc smut #dc #jason todd x gn!reader #jason todd smut #jason todd x you #jason todd #dom!jason todd #sub reader #red hood #red hood x gn!reader #red hood x reader #red hood smut #jason todd x reader

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euno11a · 2 days

Text

Simon Riley would be the type of man to finger you for no reason other than loving the feeling of your warm heat and how your walls flutter when you get close to cumming

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suiana · 1 day

Text

(yandere! co-actor x gn! co-actor reader) (theyre co-stars who act as lovers n have to act like they love each other but they actually don't)

"but oh, darling, how i adore your face in all its glory..."

"cut!"

your co-actor immediately pulls away from you, face scrunching up in disgust as he completely refuses to acknowledge your presence. you do the same, wiping your hand with a cloth as you walk to the opposite side of the set.

yes, the two of you were co-stars who secretly hated each other. shocking.

to be honest, it was shocking because you didn't hate him initially. you had actually admired him and even wanted to act together in a movie! he was once your idol after all.

and by some stroke of luck, your manager had gotten you the opportunity to be a co-star on a romance-horror movie that was predicted to be the biggest film of all time.

but now that you had achieved that dream... you really wish it hadn't come true. for people's facades come down once you get to know them.

you and him did not get along at all. constantly butting heads, fighting over the littlest of things... yet, you two manage to act out the roles of obsessed lovers who would die for one another.

the fact that the movie was about how you (the love interest) and him (the male lead) were dating and how he would go crazy and stuff-

ugh you can't believe you had to act this out! you're too annoyed to even think straight now! like, what kind of false reality is this?!

...

well i mean, it is kinda your job as an actor to sell a false reality but still! the way you two can pull a 180 each time you have to get on set is crazy!

"oi you, don't breath all up in my face next time. yoy are repulsive."

"we're literally supposed to stand close to one another! how am i not supposed to do that-"

"then don't breathe."

"you two stop it!"

the director barks at the two of you, shaking his head as the both of you roll your eyes. seriously, to everyone else it looks like little kids who are fighting over the smallest of things. how childish!

"we're gonna be filming the next scene. get in position!"

you begrudgingly walk over to the middle of the set at the familiar phrase, getting into place as your co-star unwillingly holds you in an intimate pose. with him pressed up against a wall and you pinning him up against said wall.

you shudder in disgust as the cameras begin rolling once more. ew, you really can't understand what you used to see in him. like he's so dramatic and sassy! what-

"ack!"

your eyes widen as you see him shiver fearfully, a spider crawling on his head. what the hell?! where did this spider come from?!

you wanted to back away from your co-star but the second you saw how his eyes started to water, the way his lower lip trembled... you knew you couldn't just leave him to suffer. even when you hated him.

"don't move..."

you mumble, eyebrows furrowing slightly as you use a shaky hand to approach the spider. hm... it's not like you were scared it's just... why's it so big?

you gulp nervously, eyes widening slightly as you watch the spide crawl up your arm. damn, if you were a bit more of a coward...

you set the spider on a nearby desk, humming softly as you let out a shaky sigh of relief. oh well, at least it's over.

as you were drinking some water, your co actor couldn't help but feel his heart race, cheeks flushed red as he tries to regulate his breathing. what the hell? why is he getting so flustered over you getting close to him?

his eyes drift to your figure, taking in your carefree attitude. he quickly looks away as your eyes glance at his staring. hiding his face in his hands, he huffs and turns around, grumbling something about you as he feels his heart rate spike even more.

all he can think about as the rest of the shoot goes on was whether you had looked this beautiful before.

#yandere #tw yandere #yandere x reader #yandere drabbles #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere concept #yandere co-actor #yandere co-actor x reader #gn reader #suiana rambling #suiana brainrotting

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moonyswoony · 13 hours

Text

Nothing else matters

pairing: Eddie munson x best friend reader

Summary: Your constant need to defend your best friend eventually lands you in the hospital, and Eddie's not happy.

Warning(s): cursing,slight angst with happy ending,making out.

Anyone in your position would have been able to tell where they were right off the bat without even opening their eyes. Although, to you, it all comes back in bits and pieces. You begin to register the noises all around you. Doors constantly sliding open and shut, squeaky sounds of wheelchairs, muffled groans and voices somewhere in the distance.

The bitter scent of antiseptic with a hint of bleach mixed with undertones of the chemicals contained in soaps and cleaners fills the room. Your nostrils slightly tingle from the nauseating scent surrounding you and instinctively, you press your face into the warm pillow under your head in order to escape it.

Despite all this, it's the sensation of someone watching you that finally compels your eyes to open. Light creeps into your vision before you shut your eyes, just to open them again.

A hospital. You were definitely in a hospital.

You bite your lip from the sharp pain that shoots all over your body as you slowly try to sit up and get off the bed, bones aching in the process.

"Whoa—wait, you’ll pop a bone there."

Your eyes fall onto a man with long curly hair standing next to your bed, his black leather jacket unzipped to reveal a Hellfire Club shirt peeking from underneath.

"Eddie?" you breathe out.

Eddie lightly pushes against your shoulder, sending you back down. "Yup, that's me, love. Now why don't you stay there before I have to scrape you off the floor?"

You let out a weak chuckle and shift around, trying to get comfortable against the hospital bed. "You really think you could scrape me off the floor, Munson? Pretty sure I’d just flatten you."

Eddie smirks, humour showing through. "Oh, you think so, huh? I’d have you know I’m quite the strongman."

His tone sounds off,you think.

You ignore it and roll your eyes, but can't help the small smile that forms. Eddie starts drumming his fingers against his thigh, eyes cast down as he talks. "So, uh, as you can see from your bedside table, we turned your room into a real mansion."

Your eyes shift to the small table next to your bed, a bouquet of bright red carnations, golden yellow daffodils, and rosy peonies all wrapped together with thick wrapping paper. You smirk when right next to it you see three asymmetric cards made from colorful cardboard, the letters inside too sloppy to be made by any adult.

Definitely the kids.

"Well, I can clearly see who made me these cards. What about the flowers?" you ask, gaze shifting towards him.

His eyes quickly flicker past you. "Picked them from some flower shop down the street. Thought you might like some color in here."

There's a pregnant pause in his speech before he starts playing with his ring. An old habit you’ve seen Eddie pick up over the years when he wanted to distract himself from a situation.

And for the first time since you woke up, you look at Eddie—truly look at him.

His eyes are hollow, with dark circles underneath. He’s focused on the empty space between him and your bed. His leg bounces as he stands, shoe squeaking against the floor. The side of his lip curls inward as he bites it, probably hard enough to draw blood.

You quickly reach forward, placing your hand on top of his.

"Hey."

A few seconds pass before he finally snaps his eyes towards you, movements off and far too slow.

"You okay there?"

He rolls his eyes and pushes back his hair, the glint of multiple silver rings showing through. "I'm not the one laying in a hospital bed."

"Dude," you snort. "By the looks of it, maybe I should get up and give it to you."

Eddie ignores the poor attempt to lighten the mood this time and presses a hand against his eye, hard enough that he starts seeing starbursts. "I'm still wondering why the fuck you did that."

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. "What—"

He sucks in a deep breath, expression shifting in a way you can't quite recognize yet. "When I got here, Dustin had already beaten me to it. Said that you got jumped by some asshole on the basketball team for defending my name."

"Listen, Ed—"

"And I was just wondering," he says, a small bitter smile forming. "What the fuck you were thinking."

You reach out, grabbing his jacket and pulling him closer. “I couldn’t just stand there and let him talk shit about you like that, Eddie. You can't even begin to imagine the things he was saying, I wasn’t going to let him get away with it.”

Eddie’s eyes darken with emotion as he bends down to support his elbows on the bed,he leans in, his face inches from yours. “You should have walked away. Not get yourself beat up.” His voice is rough, but there’s a tremor beneath it.

“And let that asshole keep badmouthing you?” you retort, fire in your voice. “I couldn’t do that, Eddie. You mean too much to me.”

His jaw tightens, and he looks away, taking a step back. “You always fucking do this! You always jump in without thinking about the consequences. Do you even realize what could have happened?”

Your heart aches at his words, and you take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “Eddie, I couldn’t just stand by. You’re my best friend.”

“Best friend?” he scoffs, his eyes flashing with anger. “You think this is what best friends do? Get themselves beaten up for the other? You scared the hell out of me!”

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” you say, voice softening. “But I couldn’t let them talk about you like that. You’re worth defending.”

Eddie lets out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. “You don’t get it, do you? It’s not just about what he said. It’s about you. I can’t stand the thought of losing you.”

Your fingers curl into the fabric of his jacket, pulling him closer again. “What are you saying?”

His eyes meet yours, filled with raw emotion. “I’m saying I love you and no not as your friend.I'm saying I am in love with you,i’ve been for a long time, and it terrifies me. But not saying it before it's too late, not showing you, terrifies me more. I can’t lose you, not now, not ever.”

You feel tears welling up in your eyes, but you blink them back, focusing on the intensity in his gaze. “I love you too, Eddie. I have for so long. I just... I didn’t think i should tell you.”

Eddie’s face softens, a small, relieved smile appearing. “Well, now you know.” He steps closer, his hand cupping your cheek, thumb brushing away a stray tear. “And I promise, from now on, I’m going to show you every day how much you mean to me.”

You close your eyes, leaning into his touch, your heart pounding in your chest. “I’d like that.”

His breath mingles with yours as he leans in slowly, giving you time to pull back if you want to. But you don’t. Instead, you tilt your head slightly, closing the distance between you.

When his lips finally meet yours, it’s gentle at first, a soft brush that sends a shiver down your spine. Then, as if a dam breaks, the kiss deepens, becoming more urgent, more passionate. Your hands move up to his neck, pulling him even closer, feeling his warmth against you.

Eddie’s arms wrap around you, holding you tight, as if afraid you might disappear. The kiss is everything you had hoped for and more, a culmination of all the unspoken words, the hidden feelings, years worth of friendship and love.

When you finally pull back, both of you are breathless, foreheads resting against each other.

“Just promise me one thing?” Eddie whispers, his voice still shaky.

“Anything.”

“Promise me you’ll let me protect you once in a while. I know you’re strong, but I need you to be safe. For me.”

You nod, your hand finding his again. “I promise.”

As you both catch your breath, you can't help but let out a small chuckle. "Hey, Eddie, does your back ache from all that bending down towards the bed?"

Eddie snickers , placing a hand dramatically on his back. "You know,now that you mention it,maybe you should get up and give me the bed."

You both share a laugh, the warmth of Eddie’s presence comforting you in this cold hospital room. As you settle back against the pillows, you realize that even in the darkest moments, Eddie’s humour never fails to brighten your day.

Eddie leans in, capturing your lips in a tender, lingering kiss, sealing his promise with every brush of his mouth against yours.

For the first time since you woke up, you feel truly safe, knowing that no matter what happens, you and Eddie will face it together.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #fluff #angst with a happy ending #angst #light angst #gender neutral reader #gn reader #love confessions #eddie munson x y/n #gender neutral y/n #hope this fandom isn't dead #lmao #hurt/comfort

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anonymousewrites · 2 days

Text

A Not-So-Disastrous Romance (Book 1) Chapter Twenty

Kusuo Saiki x Reader

Chapter Twenty: Crepes and Breaks

Summary: Saiki gets to make sweets, and his luck turns as his receiver breaks.

“Are you ready to make crepes, Kusuo?” asked (Y/N), tying their cherry and strawberry themes bandana and apron on.

“In today’s training, we will be making crepes,” said Coach Niwayama. “I don’t know how to cook, but I have the recipe!”

“I like his apron,” said (Y/N), chuckling at the teddy bears on his.

“Better than Kaidou’s,” said Saiki, looking dubiously at the skulls across Kaidou’s grey apron.

“So, what are we looking to put together today?” said (Y/N).

“Crepes are good on their own, but they go well with whipped cream, chocolate, and fruit. Can we add those to it?” said Saiki, much more energetic than he ever was in school (which meant that he was willing to be involved in activities. His face didn’t show anything).

“Alright!” Nawayama passed out the recipe cards. “Let’s get cooking!”

Saiki looked at Kaidou and Hairo arguing across from him. He was grateful to have (Y/N) in his group because they understood sweets better than anyone else he knew, so hopefully that would balance out whatever Kaidou and Hairo inevitably messed up.

“Let’s do our best together,” said Hairo excitedly.

“Right,” said Kaidou.

“First we need to break two eggs,” said (Y/N). “Make sure to keep the shell from falling in.”

“Got it,” said Saiki, lifting up two eggs.

“Wait, Saiki, let me crack them!” said Kaidou. He took the eggs eagerly. “I can crack them with one hand.”

“Kaidou, don’t—”

Egg shell fell into the bowl, and (Y/N) slapped a hand over their face.

“Shoot! The shell fell in!” cried Kaidou.

“You should have used two hands!” said Hairo, pulling another egg apart. Yolk and shell fell out.

(Y/N) sighed. Apparently, Hairo and Kaidou weren’t good at cooking. Saiki almost glowered at them as they began to ruin his chance to eat crepes (especially since Kuboyasu and Nendou were doing so well).

While Kaidou and Hairo began to look in confusion at the next instruction (and poor Saiki watched), (Y/N) picked out a bowl and cracked two eggs perfectly.

“Next, pour in some flower. How much is ‘some?’ ” asked Kaidou.

“I don’t know,” said Hairo.

“For now, let’s add three pinches,” said Kaidou.

“Flour’s not seasoning,” said Saiki, trying to stop them.

(Y/N) shook their head in amusement and poured flour into their own bowl.

“Let’s see…What’s next,” said Kaidou.

“Kaidou is being too cautious,” said Saiki, pouring more flour into their bowl.

“Add some sugar,” murmured Hairo. “What’s ‘some?’ ”

“These aren’t very clear instructions,” said (Y/N). “Desserts need exact measurements.” They measured the amount they needed and poured it into their bowl.

“What are you doing?” said Saiki, glancing at them.

“Don’t you worry, Kusuo. Just keep an eye on them so they don’t poison themselves,” chirped (Y/N).

Indeed, there was a worry of that as Hairo and Kaidou poured an extravagant amount of sugar into the bowl. Who knew what else they’d add too much or too little of next.

“This is bad,” said Saiki, trying to fish out some of the sugar. Unfortunately a whole stick of butter was thrown in, next, ruining his attempt to fix things.

“Since it says ‘some,’ that should be enough, right?” said Kaidou.

Oh, dear, this really could’ve been avoided with measurements, thought (Y/N), cutting and setting the butter to melt.

“Oh, no, we didn’t melt it!” said Hairo.

“Can we just microwave it?” said Kaidou, already setting the metal bowl into the microwave.

“Good idea!” said Hairo.

“I’m not going to bother to try to stop this.”

There was a flash, and the microwave sparked itself to death. As Nawayama began to yell at Kaidou and Hairo, Saiki tried to remake the crepes they were currently failing at ((Y/N) continued with their work so that they’d have something to fall back on).

“I didn’t know that we couldn’t put metal in the microwave,” said Kaidou as he slouched back to the table.

“What should we do?” said Hairo, looking at their disgusting bowl of…something.

(Y/N) looked in. “Maybe exorcise it?”

“It looks like a breakfast from Hell,” agreed Saiki.

“I hate to waste it, but we should probably throw it away,” said Hairo.

“I guess we have to,” said Kaidou, sadly gazing at his monstrous creation.

“Give it to me.” Mera held out a hand towards the food (if it could still be called that). “If you’re going to throw it away, give it to me.”

“Mera, if you get possessed, it’s on you,” said (Y/N), looking concernedly at the contents of the bowl.

“Okay!” Mera was fine with that if she could get food, and she grabbed the bowl and ran away.

“Okay, let’s pull ourselves together and start over,” said Hairo.

“It will go perfectly this time!” said Kaidou.

Just as long as they don’t try to grab my bowl, thought (Y/N), happily mixing. They were fine with getting involved with their friends’ mishaps in any other situation, but cooking was the one thing (Y/N) really loved, so if someone messed up their work, they would be very disappointed.

“Here.” Saiki had already remixed the ingredients, knowing Hairo and Kaidou were so behind in their group.

“Wow!” said Hairo.

“Did you make this, Saiki? Not bad,” said Kaidou.

“ ‘Not bad?’ ” Saiki had done way more than “not bad.”

“Not bad at all,” agreed Nendou, looking over.

“Of course it is, we’re the ones who made it,” said Kaidou.

“It was me who made it,” corrected Saiki.

“We put our blood, sweat, and tears into it!” cried Hairo.

“That wouldn’t taste good,” chirped (Y/N).

“You haven’t even gotten to the hard part yet,” said Nendou.

“What? One of the microwaves has already been destroyed,” said Kaidou incredulously.

“If it becomes harder, the whole classroom will explode,” said Hairo.

“Watch and learn,” said Nendou. He held up a pan. “First, lightly coat the pan with oil.”

“When do you pour the batter in?” asked Kaidou.

“Pour it in the center, like this,” said Nendou, showing them.

“Won’t it be too thick?” asked Kaidou.

“That’s why you spread it evenly,” said Nendou, demonstrating.

“Wow, Nendou really does know how to make crepes,” said (Y/N), a bit surprised but pleased. Their own crepes were going well, too.

“The one time I avoided having him in my group was the time I needed him,” said Saiki.

(Y/N) laughed, and Saiki’s annoyance subsided a bit as their joy. That made the situation better, even if it was still exhausting to see Kaidou and Hairo so obviously clueless as they kept asking Nendou for clarification.

“Amazing!” cried Kaidou as Nendou flipped the crepes effortlessly.

“Well, good luck, guys!” said Nendou, returning to his group.

“Shut up, we don’t need your help,” lied Kaidou even after he asked so many questions.

“The flipping part seems hard,” observed Hairo.

“Use a spatula to flip them,” said (Y/N). They smiled. “Flipping in the air is more advanced.”

“Let’s be safe and do that,” said Hairo.

“If we do that, Nendou wins,” said Kaidou. He spread the batter, waited a moment, and threw it in the air.

“No, Kaidou!” cried Hairo dramatically.

It flopped onto Nawayama’s head, and Kaido fell to his knees as the teacher began chewing him out. Kaidou slouched back with his head hung low while Hairo organized another crepe.

“I’ll try it with the chopsticks,” said Hairo.

“That will go better,” said (Y/N), fiddling in the stores of the room to try to find some fruit.

Hairo and Kaidou looked at the browning crepe.

“Isn’t that enough?” asked Kaidou.

“No,” said Hairo.

“Are you sure?” said Kaidou as it turned dark brown.

“Not yet,” said Hairo.

“It’s burning.” Saiki had lost another chance at crepes.

“It needs to get hotter!” cried Hairo.

Finally, he flipped it. Again, it looked like a monster with a skull face burned in. Hairo hung his head, and while he looked down sadly, Mera sidled up and stole the pan. (Y/N) let her go since she had handled the last batch well enough.

“We have no choice but to leave it to Saiki and (L/N),” said Kaidou.

“No, Mera!” cried Hairo, running towards their remaining batter as Mera downed it in a moment.

Saiki went blank with Kaidou. Their batter was all gone because they’d been too lenient with letting Mera enjoy what they made before they had a chance.

“You’re out of batter?” said Nendou, turning around. “Well, I guess I can share some of my crepes.”

Saiki turned around with a true smile. “Nendou, I knew you could do it when all else fails.”

“Did you?” laughed (Y/N) as they finished cutting strawberries.

“Take a look at the Nendous’ special tuna salad crepes!” said Nendou.

Saiki, Kaidou, and Hairo made disgusted faces. That…did not sound like a good combination with the sweetness of crepes.

“No need, Nendou,” said (Y/N), smiling. “You can enjoy yours.” They held out the plate they had finished putting together. “We’ve got our own.”

Hairo, Kaidou, and even Saiki’s eyes sparkled as they gazed at the crepes with chocolate and strawberries.

“You made these for us?” said Kaidou, eyes wide.

“Even as we messed up…” Tears came to Hairo’s eyes.

(Y/N) smiled and waved a hand. “Of course. You guys worked hard. Enjoy.”

Kaidou and Hairo excitedly took a crepe each and began to eat. Saiki stepped up and took his own.

“You saved the day,” said Saiki.

(Y/N)’s cheeks warmed. “I like crepes, too, so it was a little self-serving.”

“Maybe, but you’re always too selfless anyways,” said Saiki.

“You think so?” said (Y/N).

“You watch out for everyone else,” said Saiki. They looked out for him most of all, always ready to help. “You should take care of yourself.”

“I’ll try,” said (Y/N). They gazed at him warmly. “But who else is going to look after the people I care about if not me?”

Saiki’s heart stuttered. He was someone they cared about. He found himself smiling as he took a bite of his crepe.

“Still. Let us look out for you.”

“Don’t worry, Kusuo. I know you have my back.” (Y/N) spoke with complete confidence even though Saiki regularly disliked having to help his friends (acquaintances and nuisances, he would argue).

But they were right. Saiki would always look out for (Y/N). Always.

Saiki looked at his hand, pleased with himself for having gotten so far with controlling his abilities. Now he had more control and returning a baseball to someone wouldn’t present a problem (and he wouldn’t accidentally take anyone’s head off). Still, he couldn’t remove either of his receivers, otherwise he would lose control again. The dampeners made sure his powers were manageable.

Wham!

A baseball slammed into the side of his head.

Seriously. Again?

He picked it up and threw it down. Instead, the baseball went flying into the stratosphere. Saiki stared at his hand in alarm.

What just happened? I used the same amount of strength as before!

He reached up and felt one of his receivers. The ball on top was gone. He looked down and saw it at his feet.

I need to repair this.

He took a step forward, but the force of it sent him flying forward, and he accidentally kicked the pink ball. It disappeared into the horizon.

This is bad. This is really bad.

Anything he did would result in destruction and danger. He was stuck.

It’s too dangerous for me to return home like this. Saiki took of the remaining bit of the receiver. I will use my ability to reset objects to repair it. He focused and let the ability work. Turn back time! This should solve the issue.

…

It didn’t. Saiki stared at the pieces of the receiver, restored to when they hadn’t been put together as a machine. He had reverted time too much because of his abilities being out of control.

I can’t use this! I will have to use my telepathy to tell my parents to pick me up.

Unfortunately for Saiki, his telepathic ability was also off the charts. He couldn’t distinguish anyone’s voice from the other. Foreign languages had joined the mess of thoughts in Saiki’s head.

He groaned, holding his head, and leaned against a wall. It crumbled, and he fell through. Lying on the ground, he stared up at the sky. He needed to get somewhere safe. But where? He didn’t know if his parents were home, and he had nowhere else to go.

Saiki sighed. If only (Y/N) was here, they’d have a solution—

His teleportation reacted instantly to the thought, and he disappeared from the lawn.

Saiki groaned as he collapsed in a new room. Looking around, he found himself in a kitchen he’d been in a few times but remembered by heart.

“Kusuo?!” cried a worried voice, and (Y/N)’s face came into his sight as they crouched beside him.

His teleportation had brought him right to them. Oh, dear, even his abilities were influenced by his crush on them.

“What happened to you?” asked (Y/N), looking at him with pure concern.

If Saiki wasn’t in distress, he’d be flattered and a bit flustered by the way they were gazing at him, but as it was, he really needed help.

“My receiver broke,” said Saiki.

“Your—oh, your bobble?” said (Y/N), noticing the pieces in his hand.

“Yes. I can’t control my powers.”

(Y/N)’s forehead creased in worry. “How can I help?”

“I need my parents,” said Saiki.

“Alright. Don’t worry, Kusuo. I’ll get them,” said (Y/N), smiling at them.

Saiki had no doubt; (Y/N) was the kindest and most loyal person he knew.

He watched from the ground as (Y/N) headed to the phone and checked the phonebook for his house number.

“Hello?” said (Y/N). “Mrs. Saiki? Hi, yes, it’s (Y/N). Kusuo’s here. His, uh, receiver, I think, the thing on his head, it broke.”

Saiki faintly heard his mom yelling in panic.

“He’s alright.” (Y/N) glanced at Saiki. “He’s just lying on my floor. Yeah, my address is…”

Saiki closed his eyes as (Y/N) told his parents. They were coming. They’d have a solution to this.

I just hope it doesn’t involve him.

After school the next day, (Y/N) sighed and set their bag down on a chair before going to get a snack. They didn’t bother saying they were home—their parents were still out on another business trip—so they quietly went about their business. They wished Saiki was feeling better so they could’ve grabbed a snack with him, but he had been out sick from school that day, so his receiver obviously wasn’t fixed yet.

Maybe I should go over to his house and check on him, thought (Y/N).

Ring!

The phone rang, and (Y/N) walked over to answer it. They furrowed their brow as they saw a foreign number. That was unusual. Still, (Y/N) didn’t hesitate to answer it (look, it’s the Saiki K universe. What harm could come to them?)

“Hello?” said (Y/N).

“Hello, is this (Y/N) (L/N)?” said an unfamiliar voice.

“Uh-huh, who is this?” said (Y/N).

“This is Kusuke Saiki,” said the voice. “I’m Saiki’s brother.”

“…Kusuo has a brother?” (Y/N) blinked. They had no idea he had a brother; he’d never mentioned it. Not that he would. This is Kusuo.

Little did they know, Kusuke was carefully storing the fact that they used Saiki’s first name away.

“Yes, he does. Of course he doesn’t talk about me. I’m nothing special. But if you don’t believe me, you can look me up,” said Kusuke.

“No, I believe you.” Really, (Y/N) did. “Is Kusuo alright? Is his receiver fixed?”

Kusuke stored their knowledge of his powers away. “Almost! He’s coming to London to visit me. I was thinking of surprising him with some of his friends. Would you be to coming?”

“Coming to London?” said (Y/N) incredulously.

“It’s the weekend,” said Kusuke.

“…I don’t know you,” pointed out (Y/N).

“Nendou and Kaidou agreed to go,” said Kusuke.

Well, someone should look out for them. “…Alright.” Hey, as long as this wasn’t a giant scam, (Y/N) would get to check on Saiki and make sure he was doing well.

“Perfect,” said Kusuke. All the pieces of his plan had fallen into place

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darlingwriter · 1 day

Text

okay but what about a love-struck simon riley.

patiently putting up with your antics much to the other sergeant's surprise and amusement.

constantly finding reasons to have you on his team during missions, telling a suspicious soap it's because you're "a bloody good shot, tha's all" and totally not because he loves the weary banter with you in the truck bed on the way back.

glaring daggers at a foolish recruit who's dumb enough to make some half-baked remark about the two of you, and then having to endure price's knowing looks whenever the captain sees you two together.

eventually caving one night after a mission, when you and the others are returning from drinks at the local pub. pulling back from the group to walk next to you. internally cursing how fucking good you look right now, cheeks flushed from the cold, smiling up at him like this.

"can we talk?"

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jadestone2 · 10 hours

Text

You got lipstick on my face!

Theme: sfw

Summary: kissing your husband, forgetting you had lipstick on.

Pair: Johnny Cage, Bi-Han, Kuai Liang, Liu Kang, Kenshi Takahashi, Kung Lao, Raiden, Rain, Smoke, Geras, Syzoth, Shang Tsung x chubby reader

Tw: down-bad men, they are after you

A/n I’ve checked my inbox, you guys are gonna make me cry with all the compliment

You were extremely excited to go on a date with your husband, with all the work he has, there is barely any time left for you both! You put on lipstick to enchant your lips even more, which was a mistake. You enjoyed pressing kisses on your husband, which is why lipstick should be a no to you

Johnny doesn’t give two shits, he’ll walk around with bunch’s of lipstick stains on his face! It’s a trophy for him, his wife gave him kisses! He ignores any weirded stares he’s given, let them stare, he��s famous after all. But he isn’t giving them a wink of his attention, he’s only staring at how good you look in that dress. You’ll be taking tons of photos, many where Johnny has his hand “sneakily” on your plush hips. Scold him, not like he’s listening when he gets a great view of your body

Bi-Han will stare at you, you could see the soft blush on his cheeks. You giggle, attempting to wipe away the lipstick stain which only spreads it even more. You smile innocently when he asks if you got it off, nodding your head. He’s confused, why are people laughing when he walks by or has a smile? You almost panic when he says he’s going to the restroom, he definitely is going to know. The moment he came back out, his face was red, but the lipstick stains are still there. Now matter how cold he could act, he still enjoys your affection.

Kuai Liang would be a blushy mess, but he still loves it. He would never be uncomfortable with the affection you give him, a little hesitant to walk around with lipstick marks. But when you tried to wipe it off, he dodged the wet paper towel. He’ll happily walk around, now everyone knows your his and he is yours. Gets embarrassed when Smoke comes over and teases you both, patting your husband's shoulder before scrambling off before Bi-Han could scold him.

Liu kang is so confused, what makes his face feel sticky? He swears he knows what lipstick is, but he’s just lying. You give him the simplest explanation, but he still doesn’t know why you kissed his face. But a kiss is a kiss, he’s happy! Happily walks around with red lipstick on his face, it’s his pride! Nobody would even look his way, they realize how happy he is with it. He has much respect, he expects that same amount of respect even when he looks a bit goofy.

Kenshi felt so awkward in that moment, it’s not that he doesn’t love you! You're going to give the poor man a heart attack! His blindfold didn’t help his case, his face bright red. As much as you wanted to tell him it’s fine to wipe off the lipstick, he didn’t want to! Although he regrets going out in public, Johnny was there laughing his ass off when he saw Kenshi. Kenshi will never live this off, Johnny somehow took a photo fast before Kenshi could even grab his phone. They made a bet, it doesn’t concern you, the sight of Kenshi’s friendship with Johnny was funny to you. Kenshi would grumble under his breath, resting his head on your shoulder. You owe him cuddles for a month.

Kung Lao was shocked for a second, before his flirty smirk came back. Are you sure you want to play this game with him? You always were the one who’s blushing at the end of this game, his hand gently rubs at your cheek. You shriek, attempting to get away from your husband who had ill intentions now. Somehow you got him to leave the house, without any trouble. Keep an eye on his hands, he’ll attempt to squeeze anything he can get his hand on. Don’t be shy, smack his hands, stop him from doing something that will make you flustered. If he notices how flustered you are, he would chuckle and place his hat on your head. Covering you from the curious looks from watchers, in the end, he always wins this little game. He’ll make it up to you, maybe a dance?

Raiden chuckles, a cheesy smile on his face. He didn’t grow up with Kung Lao for no reason, they share similar traits. He knows exactly how to make you flustered, he learnt it from his best bud. Though you have a chance to reverse the order, you can make him blush! Just as he was about to do something flirty, you smash your lips against his. There goes another lipstick mark, and now his face is red in embarrassment. He’ll be blushing the entire time you're out, he can’t stop thinking about your kisses! Kung Lao definitely chuckled when he saw how blushy Raiden was, they were still two different people after all.

Rain is very embarrassed, don’t embarrass him, he wants to be super cool! He wants to maintain his title, you just make him seem like a sucker for attention. Which is, he instantly melts when you kiss his face. He chuckles, leaning closer for your touch. You're the only person who can see him without, let alone press kisses to his face. He wouldn’t go out anymore, he’s desperate for more of your attention! Don’t you dare stop, give him more kisses or he might die! He’ll have you trapped underneath him, you're not allowed to leave until you give him your kisses!

Smoke is a giggling mess, his face bright red. Give him one of your lipstick, he wants to give you lipstick marks too! You both end up going at with lipstick stains on both of your faces, others would groan when they see you both. You guys acted like teenagers sometimes, doing chaotic and corny stuff together. Smoke couldn’t care less if his brothers saw you both, though Kuai Liang would chuckle while Bi-Han would scoff, but he was happy for his little brother.

Geras would be extremely confused, he’s never experienced affection. All he knows is that he likes the way it felt, his body seems to want more of whatever that was. Liu kang would chuckle if he saw the lipstick stains on Geras’s face, which is why he wants to stay home. He would have his eyes closed as you pepper more kisses to his face, you giggle at how cute your husband could be sometimes. He wants to ask why you did that, but he’ll ask later once he gets his fill of your affection. Just continue to pepper kisses to his face, it feels really nice.

Syzoth is confused but he’s smiling, he loves all the affection you give him. His tail would be wagging so fast, almost hitting your leg. His tail thumps loudly on the ground, thankfully there were no items near you or else they would have gone flying. His tail would be wagging for a while, he can’t help it! He’s so happy to receive any affection from you, you could almost hear the quiet purr coming from him. You now have to give all your attention to your greedy lizard husband

Shang Tsung would instantly dodge your touch, it’s a reflex. When he saw your face sadden, he instantly brought you close. He’d coo at you, rubbing your head gently. He presses his lips against yours, chuckling when you blush. His fingers would gently rub on your hips as you press kisses to his face. He’ll let you have your moment, but later he’ll be teasing you for this. His fingers gently trace your face, seeing the dumb smile on your face. You spend the rest of your night with your husband, being romantic to the point it was corny.

More mortal kombat cause I can’t get enough of these men

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