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soggyriceee · 1 year

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I Can't Hurt You ~ Ghost NSFW

[ mentions of gunshot wounds, anxiety, trauma and sex. plz like and lmk if there angsty type of stories interest anyone, have a good day <3 ]

It had been 6 weeks since you'd been shot. Once in the leg, once in the arm. For days you had thought you'd lose your arm and leg. All you could really remember was Simon yelling your name while blood covered his hands. Your blood. But, the base surgeons were some of the best and you were at home almost fully recovered. Your husband, Simon Riley, the man who unfortunately was leading that mission you'd suffered injury from, was always by your side. He was on e for giving you your space so having him everywhere you were at was new. But you loved it because the more you saw him and how caring he was towards literally only you, it made your heart flutter.

Ghost was a whole war criminal, why would he spend his time going to the store, getting flowers, cards, clothes gifts, all that stuff? Because he was so deeply in love with you, it was like his money and time quite literally belonged to you. He spent hours trying to learn to cook for you since you were glued to the bed.

" Tell me if it needs more salt." He demanded, towering over you as your sims started a house fire on your laptop screen. " Its good baby please stop bothering me now." You laughed, wiping some of the homemade pasta sauce from your lip. As much as he did annoy you, you couldn't ask him to really leave you alone.

He wasn't stupid, he knew that the whole happy persona you put on in front of him was fake. You were trying to act tough and brave for him. Independence was something you both had and in your eyes alone, it was embarrassing to be the first in the relationship to need help. Consistent help. Ghost was good at reassuring to you that he did not see you as weak, he actually saw you as brave, strong. " You survived two gun shot wounds at once lovie.. that makes you stronger than me." He whispered to her as you quietly sobbed in the hospital bed a few weeks back.

And this injury definitely caused some small bumps for you both. For example.. sex. It wasn't that it was different, it literally was not happening. Despite you being able to move almost all on your own, stairs were still a bit hard, he wouldn't touch you unless it was to help you. And as much as you loved how gentle and genuinely kind and caring he was for you, you needed a bit more. " Simon.." You'd whisper in his ear when it was close to your given bedtime. By Simon. "Yes my love? Do you need anything?" He asked, looking away from the news on your guys TV.

You moved to sit on his lap, struggling to raise your injured leg a bit. But you made it onto his lap successfully and with mi animal pain. But he sensed it immediately. " Lovie.." You shushed him and placed your arms around his neck. " I appreciate all the care you've been giving me.. but I need a bit more." You spoke softly, eyeing his lips. You began to move in but you could tell he began to panic, jolting his head back and hitting the bed frame. You looked up at him, your chest feeling like it just got shot this time. " I-i can't.. Im sorry." He had took you off his lap before standing and walking out the room and rubbing the back of his head.

It had been about a week since that encounter. It hurt you, and you definitely cried about it after. He ended up sleeping on the couch that night, but still coming every 30 to check on you, even when you were asleep. Neither of you really spoke about it. And you could assume thats what made the relationship more awkward now. While yes he did sleep in the bed again, and he was still taking care of you, the conversations were small and minimal. " He won't touch me Soap.. I don't know what to do. We used to have sex almost every day at least twice a day." You spoke into your phone as you looked up " How to Get My Husband To Have Sex With Me After Gunshot Wound". Almost no good articles came up. I mean, who really goes through this?

" Im sure he'll come around. I mean, he did see you literally almost die in his arms. You mean a lot to him and I think he's just terrified of hurting you more." He said through the speaker. He was on base, doing paperwork for the next mission. Another you and Ghost would be sitting out on. " Its been almost three months. Im practically healed... it just sucks because I feel like a..like a disease. He won't touch me in any way other than to help me. Even when I dont need it." You sighed.

Simon had gone to the store, grabbing you ice cream you had mentioned to yourself you wanted to get at some point and your positive other things to go along with it. Despite that awkward encounter he was still there to make you feel better. " He hasn't really said anything to me but you know how he is. Try talking to him again. I have to go, Price is calling." He said before hanging up abruptly. You sighed and looked around. You needed to get up and do.. something.

You moved your laptop to the side and began to stand. A minor pain stabbed your injured leg, causing a whimper of pain to leave your lips. As you opened the bedroom door, you heard Simon return into the house. " Lovie? Im home with that ice cream you wanted." He yelled from downstairs. You moved towards the stairs, gripping the handles and moving slowly. As your uninjured leg hit the bottom stair, your injured one again gave your a little trouble. "Shit" You squeaked, gripping the handle more. " Lovie?" He walked over swiftly to the stairs, dropping the ice cream and spoon that was in his hands. " What are you doing?! If you wanted to come down you should've waited for me to carry you down." He began to approach you but your hand hit his chest, stopping him. " I-i can do it mys-self." You grunted. Finally, your injured leg was on the same step as you. " You can't thats why your face is scrunched up in pain just let me help-" " GO AWAY! I dont need you here every two seconds simply just to help me. You won't do so much as cuddle with me let alone have sex with me. Im not made of glass im a human im your wife for crying out loud but you treat me l-like im not. leave me alone!" You screamed at him, tears welling in your eyes.

His face looked hurt, but also surprised. " L-lovie I just-" You cut him off by turning away, moving back up the stairs. He wanted to help you, but you had made it clear you wanted him to back off. You made it back up the one step and walked into the bedroom, slamming the door. You moved onto the bed, holding one out of the 10 stuffed animals Simon bought you and silently, again, cried into it. You felt bad, but at the same time you didn't. You were able to tell him finally how you felt. You heard his boots at the door, no matter how hard he tried to keep quiet. And he just stayed there. Listening to you cry but feeling too scared to say, or do anything.

The next morning you woke up and Simon wasn't there to wake you this time. You rubbed your eyes as the sun peaked into the room. " Simon..?" You asked, your voice a bit hoarse. You looked around and noticed a rectangular, long box at the end of the bed. You reached over and grabbed it.

Your right, ive been too overbearing. I'm sorry lovie..

You opened the box and inside was a cute lingerie set. It was with and pink, a little bow in the center of the bra. Your cheeks turned a bright red as you read the second note inside.

I hope you like it. I hope I see you in it soon <3

Just as you finished reading, Simon walked in the room. In his hands was a tray full of French toast, coffee and fruit. His eyes met yours, his big puppy eyes. " Oh I was.. expecting you to still be asleep." He chuckled softly, placing your breakfast on the night stand. " Im sorry for y-" For the first time in almost three months his lips touched yours. You gasped into the kiss, your heart going a 100 miles per hour. His hands snaked around your waist, pulling you up into him.

His lips yearned for yours. He slowly sat next to you, keeping your lips connected. You wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him just as passionately back. He broke away, sighing. " Dont apologize. You were right. And plus.." He right hand snaked up to your cheek, cupping it. " I've missed touching you like this." He whispered. His lips landed on yours again, this time a bit more passionately. You moaned into the kiss, a signal to him that you felt good. His free hand moved up your body, slowly. You had nothing on but his hoodie and some underwear. His favorite outfit of yours.

" Is this okay?" He asked against your lips. You nodded, smiling softly. For the first time in what felt like forever, you felt genuinely happy. He smiled and gently pushed you down on the bed, fixing you a bit so that your head was on the pillow. He hovered over you but you could tell he was still nervous as ever. " You can touch me anywhere.. Simon. Im not hurt anymore." You said softly, looking into his worried eyes. " I know but.. w-what if I get too aggressive-" You took his hand from beside your head and smiled. " How about this. If im hurting, ill call out.. "strawberries." Then you'll know to stop." You suggested, smiling up at him still. He pursed his lips but nodded.

He leaned down, attaching his lips to your again. This time, with lust and desperation. You could tell how much you both missed each others touch. Your hands slid under his black hoodie, tracing every ab until you got to the top. He hummed at your soft fingers against his skin, breaking away from the kiss. He moved down to your neck, gently sucking your skin. His right hand slowly, like criminally slow, slid up your thigh, gripping it every now and then.

Your eyes fluttered closed, your bottom lip trapped under your top teeth. Small, quiet whimpers left your lips every time he'd suck your neck. He left behind big and small marks, red and purple mix. He pushed himself off your body a bit, smiling at his work. " You look beautiful my love.." He whispered. You blushed and looked down. You saw the tent in his sweats, his Calvin Klein boxers peaking through at the top. His hand gripped your chin, gently moving your head to look up at him. " Don't be shy." He smirked. His hand that was still on your thigh was now at your wet core, It was throbbing for him at this point. Desperate.

" Awh.. your so wet.. show me how deprived you are from my touch baby.." He whispered, his thumb moving in small circles exactly at your swollen clit. Your body jerked up, a small moan leaving your lips. You watched his hands, only turning you on more. He watched you, his eyes not telling you what he was feeling. You felt embarrassed and began to slowly cover your face. He growled and grabbed your hands, pinning them above your head. " What did I tell you? Dont be shy.. I dont wanna have to stop you from cumming baby.. especially if you deserve it." He said, slowly moving his eyes down your body.

You shook your head, grinding your hips against him more. " Awh baby your so fucking cute when you get desperate like this." He sighed. You felt his thumb stop moving and instead, two of his fingers pulling your soaked panties down for you. He tossed them off the bed, licking his lips at your exposed pussy. " Fuck.. I wish you'd yelled at me sooner my love.. its gonna be so hard trying to hold back." He said before pulling off his hoodie. He tossed it away, before grabbing your knees, spreading them apart.

Yes this was your husband, but after being celibate for three months, you were nervous. And he felt it. He looked at you from through your legs, smiling. " Let me take care of you.. you deserve it baby." He smiled, kissing your inner thigh. He kissed down, surely leaving marks on your thighs, before finally reaching your dripping pussy again. He kissed it, earning a desperate whine from you. He chuckled before sliding his tongue through your folds, a gasp coming from you.

He slowly spread your legs more far apart. " Am I hurting you?" He asked, looking at your injured leg. " No.. remember ill say strawberry if you do." You said, patting his head gently. He smiled and nodded before turning his attention back to your pussy. It was on full display for him. He placed his hands on your hips, moving you onto his tongue. His tongue immediately went to your aching clit, sucking it ever so gently. You let out a satisfied whimper, your eyes again fluttering closed. He worked his tongue on your clit, sucking it, kissing it. His hands definitely started to make bruises on your skin but you were happy with that. Because it felt like normal. Like the sex you both used to have.

" O-oh Simon~' You'd whimper below him, gripping his brown hair. Your knees tried to connect but he gently, still worried about hurting you, kept them apart. " Don't close your legs until im done with you." He said, his lips glossy with your juices. It was such a hot sight to see. it felt like you guys were teenagers all over. Horny and desperate. His lips went back to working on your pussy, sucking your clit perfectly. " Because you had been deprived of your regular orgasms, you felt this one building fast. And it was surely gonna hit hard.

Your legs began to shake and you began to let out pathetic, desperate whimpers. " Sim-Simon I f-feel it.. shit." You cried out, gripping his hair and the sheets. He only moved his tongue faster, pulling you onto his face more. He was desperate. You could tell. He even began to moan against your pussy, looking up at you. " Thats it baby.. feel good for me. You deserve it." He said against your pussy, his middle and ring finger sliding in to help his tongue out. " Cum on my fucking face." he growled, moving his fingers faster.

His tongue moved with his fingers and quickly, you felt your body release its high. Your whole body began to shake, tears forming at the corners of your eyes. He whimpered quietly as he devoured every last drop of your cum. " Fuck baby.." He whimpered against your pussy as your body still jerked from the intensity of your orgasm. He moved his lips slowly against your pussy, sighing. He eventually sat up, his lips, nose and chin completely covered in your juices.

" You did amazing my love. Im so proud." He said, smiling down at you. You were out of breath, your eyes still shut. You felt him kiss your neck before your lips. " Do you want to continue baby? I can take care of myself. I want you to feel rested-" You pulled him down by the collar, your lips smashing onto his. He moaned into the kiss, smiling. " Yes.. I want to continue." You said after pulling away from him.

He kissed your cheeks before standing from the bed, pulling his pants down. His dick was huge. But, after three months of nothing, not even self pleasure, his dick looked..bigger. You had to admit, it made you a bit nervous. You watched as he pulled his boxers down, his whole body exposed in front of you. You quickly felt your clit throbbing all over as your eyes looked at every part of his body. " Are you positive you want this my love?" He asked, crawling back on the bed with you. He hovered over you, looking at your naked body as well.

" I swear Simon.. this is what I want." You said, looking up at him. He nodded before placing a soft but passionate kiss on your lips again. You kissed back as you felt him position himself at your entrance. " Just.. take my hand. And squeeze as hard as you want if it hurts." You nodded up at him. Despite how sex deprived you both were, how desperate, he still was patient and careful with you. He didn't want to do anything other than take care of you. " Okay.." He breathed out. Slowly, you felt him push into you. By the time his tip was in, you had already felt how thick he really was. He continued until he felt your hand grip him hard. He stopped.

" A..are you okay?" He breathed out, looking into your eyes. He was a little more than halfway in you by now and he felt like he could cum just off that alone. " I just.. need to get u-used to the feeling." You said, your other hand gripping his forearm. He nodded, kissing your cheek, then ear then neck. You loved his caring and gentle side. If you weren't injured, he'd probably be a bit less gentle, but still respectful of your needs.

" You can keep going." You smiled up at him after a minuet or so. " Are you positive?" He asked, moving his lips away from your breasts, again leaving behind more red and purple marks. You nodded and slowly, he pushed the rest of himself in. You both let out a gasp, his balls hitting the bottom of your ass as he went all the way in. " Fuck." He groaned before moving his hips back and forth slowly. With each thrust, a whimper left your lips. His head fell in the crook of your neck, slowly his hips picking up the pace.

You didnt have to ask for anything. He could read your body and what it was that you needed easily. You wanted him to go faster? He was already doing it before you moved your lips to ask. Your nails dug into his back, his hips now slamming into yours. " Yes Simon! y-your fucking me so well." You moaned, both of you not caring if your neighbors heard your moans. His hand slipped around your neck, his eyes hooded. " Yea? I am baby? Is my dick making you go.. fucking crazy?" He moaned, his free hand on your hip.

You whimpered and nodded, your body jolting up with each thrust of his. " U-Use your words..lemme hear that pretty voice." He whispered into your ear, slamming his hips into yours. You couldn't feel any pain. It was like all you needed was him fucking you silly. " I-i'm crazy..Im crazy for y...your dick Simon." You whimpered, barely able to make out words. He chuckled and kept his hand on your neck, moving at the same consistent pace.

Above you, his eyes were closed, squeezed shut matter of fact. His thrusts began to become a bit inconsistent, signaling to you he was close. " Baby.. I-ive missed this.. this pussy so much.. your gonna make..me fill you up." He groaned, his grip on you tightening. "Your gonna take.. all my cum to. Every..last..drop." He said, slamming his hips into yours with every word. You felt your stomach start to cramp and your legs shake. Both of you slowly became louder with your moans, your hands resting on his chest.

You could feel his arms wrap around your waist, hugging you as his body rested on top of you. His thrusts got sloppy, and he at this point, was a whimpering mess. " Oh baby.. im gonna..im gonna cum." he mumbled into your boobs. You tried to tell him the same but you again, felt your high wash over you. Your whole body froze, your vision weirdly went white for a quick 5 seconds. You didnt even realize Simon slamming into you fast, chasing his high. "F-fuck!" You felt his warm cum shoot into you, his body jerking as he tried to stay on top of you. But he failed, collapsing on top of you.

" s-shit.. Simon." you moaned, closing your eyes. His chest rose and fell fast, holding you tight as his cum slowly seeped out of you. He gently pushed himself back into you, wanting all of his cum stuffed into you. " I know baby.." he said, his voice tired.

both of you stayed like this for about 10 minuets. he eventually pulled out, watching your body react. " Are you hurt?" He asked, finally realizing his grip on your hips left finger marks. You smiled and shook your head. " I feel the best ive felt in three months baby.. thank you." You whispered, smiling up at him. He nodded before sliding off the bed. " I know.. I said I wanted to see you in this but. You looked beautiful and sexy regardless." He smiled before placing the box on the floor. You sat up, stretching.

" Lets shower and eat breakfast. We can go shopping. I want today tp be everything you want." He said as he lifted you up bridal style, carrying you to the bathroom. " I love you Simon.." You whispered, watching him as he carried you. He smiled and kissed your nose. " I love you more my love.. ill love you no matter what."

the end

#ghost #simon riley #cod x you #ghostcod #call of duty x reader #ghost x you #Simon Riley x you

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myoddessy · 2 years

Note

I’ve just found you from whoetoshaw’s blog and WOW! I love your blog! 💞

🎀 anything with Freezy?! Maybe like a reunion/rekindling type-thing from back then to now? Like friends who were shipped back then and date now? I hope that makes sense 🥲 Xx

aww, thank you!! I was waiting for a prompt like this 😭 I hope you like it!

September 2016.

January 2017.

liked by calfreezy, wroetoshaw, joeygraceffa, and 872,519 others

yourusername Through My Eyes 2016 out now. So much has changed for me over the past year, I (finally) got my own place, I've met so many new people, and we hit 5 million subscribers!! Thank you all so much for all you've supported me through this year, and let's hope for an equally amazing TME of 2017! 💞💞

ynfan4 Oh I've been waiting for the highlight of my year!!

taliamar Good to see my festival feature is still the best part of the video. So proud of you girl ❤️

ynxcal4ever At 14.52 when it's just Y/n and Cal in their kitchen for the last time before she moved out and they remade the first ever thing they cooked together 😭😭 I'm so emotional right now

calfreezy I would say I had a glow up but after watching this I realised that I've always been mindblowingly attractive

yourusername The real reason I had to move out was because your big head was leaving dents in the wall anymore and I didn't want to feel like I was living with two Harrys xoxo 😘😘

wroetoshaw Oi! What did I do?

yourusername Broke my LED mirror by throwing a controller at it.

sdmnsundayz Y/n is a Saint for putting up with them.

January 2020.

liked by youtube, oliviarodrigo, miniminter, and 1,982,370 others

yourusername Through My Eyes 2019 is out now. Enjoy a year of travel across the world and the family who kept me strong through all of it. Thank you all for every line we've crossed and every milestone we hit this year, I love you all so so much 💘💘

calfreezy This is my favourite one out of all of them

yourusername Is it because you're in pretty much every frame?

calfreezy Obviously

freyanightingale Ibiza you will always be famous!

taliamar We need to go back ASAP

yourusername Opening scene to the next tme planned? I think so

ynslover 'Cal and Y/n' this, 'Y/n and the girls' that, yes it's cute but can we take a moment to appreciate how STUNNING she looked in this video???

ynfreezy LITERALLY. Like shes always been stunning but something in the foreign air made her a literal goddess it's not even funny

calsfreezys the bi panic was panicking HARD

taliaxynxfreya Currently crying over the fact that Y/n and Cal were together in most of the shots

w2minter There's no way they're not together.

January 2023.

liked by emmachamberlain, gracieabrams, faithlouisak, and 3,419,778 others

yourusername through my eyes 2022, you are my soul. despite me saying this every time I post one of these videos, I mean it now more than ever. from hitting 25 MILLION subscribers (what???), to hosting interviews at the MET gala, to truly falling in love, thank you to you all, and thank you to the universe for guiding me to where I am now. I truly cannot put my gratitude into words 💞💞💞

faithlouisak beautiful girl, beautiful video, beautiful vibe. the best part of every year xx ❤️❤️

yourusername love u more than words can describe ❤️

calfreezy I guess the amount of clips of you laughing makes up for the lack of me

calfreezy barely, though

calfreezy I better be heavily featured in the next one

yourusername I'll make a whole video dedicated to you if that's what you want

ynfan124 how do his tantrums work on you 😭

yourusername I've learned through many years that its better to just give him what he wants

mintertalia Y/N SOFT LAUNCHING???? this is a make or break for the cal and y/n shippers

yn2s yall still exist? give in, it's been years, if they were going to reveal something then they would've done it by now

mintertalia bro stfu you're a ship account for two people who've called each other siblings 😭

yourusername just posted !

liked by ksi, calfreezy, mikesmic, and 3,998,770 others

yourusername @calfreezy satisfied?

YNXCAL NO FUXKING WAY

ynslover YOU CANNOT JUST DROP THIS ON US QUEEN

calfreezy it'll do

yourusername what if I broke up with you

calfreezy you'd miss me too much

taliamar cuties!!

freyanightingale what happened to soft launching it? 🤣

yourusername got bored, felt like causing drama

#calfreezy x reader #calfreezy #calfreezy imagine #calfreezy x you #calfreezy x y/n #youtube fanfic #youtube x reader #youtube #youtuber x reader #youtuber!reader #wroetoshaw #miniminter #ksi #zerkaa #tobjizzle #behzinga #sidemen imagine #sidemen #eden's 2k tea party 💞

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hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog · 2 months

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maybe like a

daryl x reader but he finds her really drunk in (alexrandia)

or finding reader in the woods (meeting her for the first time) and she’s really hurt and he practically saves her

Happy Monday Everyone! Sorry I am taking so long to get to these writing prompts that I ask you all to send my way. I am so appreciated of each and ever one of them, that I want to give each one time to create something special, or at least passable.

I hope @dreamtofus I did you justice in your ask, I really had a lot of fun writing a Daryl x Reader, it was my first, but hopefully not my last. I know I still need to work on getting the 'voice' of Daryl down, but for a first attempt, I don't think it's too bad.

Please let me know what you think, reblog, likes are always welcome. This story is my own, so please don't steal it. All mistakes, typo are mine, I do apologize. I do a few rounds of edits, but things just slip through, so be kind when passing judgement.

Details:

Daryl x Reader, told mainly from the reader POV, but we do get a small POV of Daryl. A flashback is had, some pop culture references, not sent in an particular timeline of the show. Seeing how the reader meets Daryl for the first time, how he saves her not once but twice, and the reader letting her guard down around Daryl.

Ment to be a one shot, but if you all like it enough, I could be persawded to write more, with these two.

Triger warnings: nothing really, its sweet, angst.

Word count: 2,000+

You knew never to go out this late in the day for anything, even a ‘simple’ supply run would never be done this late; you should have just waited until tomorrow. But No, you have to prove something to yourself? No, you knew you had survived this long, almost two years now, in this fire burning world. Your smarts, being a country/farm kid growing up, and your love of reading anything you could get your hands on help you survive this long.

So, you need to prove something to the members of this group that found you a few weeks ago and brought you into their community? Maybe, you're sure they are still assessing you, and seeing if you're worth the trouble of being another mouth to feed and another body to protect.

The leader, Rick, seems nice, standoffish, but also a protector that if you do get to stay with them, would be loyal and a big brother figure for you. Maggie, is also in that camp of big sister energy that would kick anyone’s ass for you.

No, if you were to put money on who in the group is still questioning if they should take you in or not, that would be the redneck hunter Daryl.

Daryl was the one that came across you while you were scavenging an abandoned drug store just a few miles south from where the group’s camp was. He was the one that held a crossbow aimed at your back, telling you to drop the antibiotics that there was a baby in his camp that needed it more than you.

Flashback

“Don’t make me say it again, drop the drugs.” A gruff, gravelly voice, from behind you, fills the silence of the space, and makes you freeze like a deer in headlights.

Getting up from your crouch position, you slowly turn, with the bottle of pills in your hand. Sweat from the fever you're currently trying to shake and not the Georgia heat drips down your face. If you hadn’t already heard him speak, you would have thought you were seeing things. There standing in front of you is a man, dressed all in black, his dark brown hair long and slightly covering one side of his face, while the other side is slightly covered by the crossbow that is currently aimed at you. His lean but muscular frame in a stance that screams hunter, his tone arms never wavering, so you know that he will wait you out, he has the discipline to do so.

“Fuck…I can’t…” you reply desperation, and exhaustion taking over. You know that you should be scare, you should be worried that he’s going to let go of the trigger, and put you out of your misery, but, you can’t give a fuck at this point.

“Will you at least aim for the head, if you're going to kill me.” You quip leaning on the shelving next to you, feeling yourself get weaker.

This seems to throw off the mystery man, as he hesitates for a second, “what?” he questions, not lowering his bow, but moving his finger from the trigger.

Grabbing something from your back pocket, a purple bandana, you wipe the sweat from your forehead. “Look, I can’t come back as one of the dead.” your voice ragged. “You could give me at least that courtesy. Because otherwise, I will find you, and eat you.” You joke, giving your best Lim Nelson voice at the end.

The mystery man doesn't seem to get the reference to that line, as he gives no reaction to the idea that you, as a walker, could somehow find him on purpose and eat him.

“It's a joke…it's from…never mind.” You toss the bottle of pills towards him, and slide down to the floor and wait for either the exhaustion, fever, or this mystery man to take you.

Your mind is fuzzy, and either this guy will leave you alone or not. With your eyes closed, you can hear the rustle of him putting the bottle in his bag, and then the sound of him coming over the counter and towards you. His footsteps stop and you can feel him staring down at you. “What?” Uou question, keeping your eyes closed.

“Whatcha doing?” he questions. “you bit?”

“Waiting for a bus, what does it look like? I am sick you ass, and I am exhausted.” Your frustration taking over. You open your eyes to find him crouching down and bringing a hand up to your forehead, “What the hell, dude!” You slap his hand from you and push yourself up and back from him, scattering bottles around you. “Just leave, you got what you wanted.”

“You didn’t answer me, are you bit?” He grumbles back, harsher this time, with authority. Annoyance is now apparent, and his blue eyes that are staring at you seem to bore into your soul.

“No, I am not bit, just sick. With the quick change in weather we had, my body...why am I explaining this to you….” you start and stop yourself from going into detail about how back when the world was somewhat ‘normal’ any drastic change in the weather always sent you into a quick cold for a few days.

Ringing out your bandana, you run it over your face and down your neck. What you wouldn’t give for some cold water, a nice cool lake to dive into. Your mind drifting to the fantasy of cooling waters is cut short when your bandana is taken from you and quickly replaced with a cool wet red one.

“What the…'' you're about to protest, when the feeling of the cool water hitting your skin shuts you up. You see him, pouring a bit more water on the rag and running it down your bare arms.

He doesn’t say anything, after wiping both your arms, he gets the rag wet again with cold water and hands it to you, “take it.”

You do, and wipe your face and then cover your forehead with it. You close your eyes and let the cool water seep through your pores, it's something, it won’t cure you, but it's something for now.

“Here.” His voice brings you back, and you open your eyes to see him holding out some of the pills and his water jug.

Your hestent, wondering why he’s being so nice now? He keeps his hand out for you to take the items, and after another second of thinking you finally do. Swallowing the pills and taking the smallest of drinks, no need to piss him off by downing his water, you hand back the jug. “Thanks.” You mumble.

He nods, and is about to speak when another voice from the other side of the counter breaks the slice, “Daryl, you in here?”

Present

You would soon come to find out and meet Rick Grimes, the man attached to that voice, and after seeing you in the state you were in that day, and asking himself if you were bit. Would then ask if you wanted to come with them and join their group.

Now here you were, somehow stuck back in that same drug store just a few miles from camp. Nighttime has settled in, and you can’t leave, with the horde of walkers outside, too many to kill on your own. Even if you could somehow make a path through, you know yourself, and your fighting abilities, you were good, but not that good.

Luckily the doors were still in good shape, and the horde didn’t know you were in the store, so they were just passing by. This has been going on for 20 minutes, and it didn’t look like they were going away anytime soon.

You had checked the backdoor, but it must be barcade on the outside, so here you sit, with your back against the wall, behind that same counter, waiting for the time pass, and hoping no one from the group notices that you're gone and starts to worry.

Running through your interactions with everyone earlier, you don’t think anyone would have seen you slip out, and you never told anyone of your plan, so you should be good, you try and reassure yourself. Stacking up the discarded bottles again in a precarious tower, what else is there to do?

“What are you doing?” a voice, gruff, deep, deadpan startles you and the tower tumbles down.

“Shit!” you yell, looking up you see Daryl leaning over the counter looking down at you. “How did you….” you start to question. Wondering how he found you? Why was he here? and how did he get in?

He strums his fingers on the counter, as if he can read your thoughts, “I saw you slip out from the gates after dinner. Waited for a bit, but when it was getting dusk and you weren’t back, figure I go out and find you.”

“So you tracked me like what...a dear?” You question, not sure if you should be flattered or creeped out by it.

“No…a dear would have been a bit more of a challenge, you were easy to find.” He jokes, and gives you a quick smile, to your glare and giving him the finger.

“Ha,ha,” you quip. getting up, you walk over to the counter, “how did you get in? sounds like that horde of walkers are still out there?” You question, looking over his shoulder, you can just barely make out the crowd still moving.

He looks towards the doors and then back to you. “AC unit on the roof, the air return drops down in the office on the other side of the store.”

“Well aren’t you just the MacGyver of the post-apocalyptic world?” You tease. He cocks his head, giving you a questionable look at your reference. Letting a sigh, “Sersious, dude, what did you watch as a kid? or did you not have a tv?”

“Come on.” He brushes off your comments, and motions for you to follow him. “What were you thinking of doing a run this late?” He questions, waiting for you to grab your gear and walk over to him.

Shit, you were hoping not to have to tell anyone why you went on this run. There was a reason you went on your own, and Daryl, especially telling Daryl was not on your list of something you wanted to do. “Umm…it's nothing….stupid really…” you start and stop yourself, wishing he would take pity on you and drop it.

Daryl wasn’t going to let you off with that answer. After all he did come and risk his ass in saving you. Even though it wasn’t a big risk for him, he knew he could find you, and get you back to camp in one piece, but still, he wants an explanation. Leaning against the counter with his arms crossed, he is not moving until you start talking. “Come on, out with it.”

You let out a sigh, “Fine” you say, and start digging in your bag, “this.” You state and pull out your purple bandana.

Daryl knew that was yours the moment he saw you pull it out of the bag. He remembered it, taking a corner of it in his hands, the fabric ruff from the dried water/sweat. “You came back for this?” He questions, wondering why risking your neck for a piece of fabric was so important.

Slightly embarrassed, taking Daryl’s tone as stupidity or bewilderment, you pull back the bandana from his fingers and stuff it back in the bag. “Look, I said it was stupid, okay, lets just drop this and go.” You quip, feeling your cheeks start to go red of embarrassment. You start to head towards the office.

The feel of Daryl’s hand on your wrist, stops you from taking any more steps from him. “Don’t walk away from me.” His voice is commanding, but not in a harsh mean way.

The feel of his callus hands in your slightly worked but not as worked as his send a shiver up your spine. You’ve only known him for a few weeks now, and most of that time you were coming down from a cold. So why was the feel of his skin next to yours, him coming to find you, and the thoughts of him judging you make your head spin and your heart slightly race. “You're going to think it's stupid” you mumble, keeping your eyes and body away from him.

“Try me.” He replies, letting you keep your eyes off him, but still holding you in place.

You let out a breath, “it was my dad’s, or at least one of them. He was a mechanic before the world fell, and he always had a bandana in his back pocket. This was my favorite color.” Your voice slightly cracks at the end. thinking about your dad, your family, life before the world was on fire, it hurts too much. You feel the tears start to slightly fall. “He was gone before…”

Pulling you back and into his arms, laying your head on his chest, Daryl says nothing. He wraps his arms around you, surrounding you in a cocoon of him. The feel of him, his strength around allows you to let go. Sobbing, cries that you have been holding in for so long let go, and pour out of you and into his chest. He’s silent, running a hand up and down your back in comfort.

You're not sure how long, but when you feel there is nothing left you pull back to see the tear stain circles on his black shirt. “I am sorry.” Your voice shakes, bringing a hand up to wipe your face.

Daryl takes his red bandana out from his back pocket, and wipes your cheeks. “Nothing to be sorry about.” He replies. Gentle wipe away the last tear from your jaw. He knows what it's like to lose your family, to be on your own. He wants to tell her he understands that she shouldn't be embarrassed by wanting to hold onto a piece of her past. He gets it, in more ways then she will ever know.

But now is not the time. Whatever he’s feeling for her, whatever he thinks could happen between them, the reality is, that it won’t. This pull that she has on him, it will pass, it has too. Stuffing the red bandana back into his pocket, and his feelings aside. He lets go of his hold on her and starts walking towards the office.

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thedamselzelda · 3 months

Text

Snake Eyes and Bloody Lies

Featuring: Dazai Osamu

Summary: Shadows of the past dance in the neon glow of the Starlight Casino. As buried secrets resurface, a night of glamour spirals into a web of things unsaid and lethal encounters. In this high-stakes game, the truth becomes the most dangerous bet of all.

word count: 7.9k, fem!reader, pm!reader, sfw (mild cursing), use of other names for reader (Izanami, Bella, etc.), use of Italian (though I don't speak it/ use of good ole Google Translate so I'm sorry if I offend anyone), slightly proofread

Author Chat: Holy hell guys, I am SO sorry this took way longer to get out than I originally intended. It's also WAY longer than I had originally thought in my head, but alas what you imagine isn't written out and so on. Hope you guys enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing this part!

previous part ~ next part | DBH masterlist | BSD Masterverse

The click of heels against concrete echoed through the stairwell as you and Chūya descended into the dimly lit basement. The air grew cooler with each step, carrying a faint musty scent that tickled your nose.

As you reached the bottom, Chūya let out a low whistle, followed by a chuckle. He called your name, his voice tinged with amusement. "Would ya look at that? It's a great view. I'd say it even rivals a masterpiece worth ten billion."

"Yeah," you replied with a soft laugh, raising your hands to frame the sight before you between your fingers like a photographer composing a shot. "It is a pretty sight."

While Chūya was admiring the scene for his own reasons, you couldn't help but appreciate the view of Osamu chained up, looking slightly disheveled. His usually immaculate appearance was marred by a few wrinkles in his shirt and a few strands of hair out of place. It was evident that someone had already paid him a visit, and true to form, Osamu had likely provoked them. Despite his predicament, he managed to flash you a charming smile, trying to ignore Chūya's presence. However, the fiery redhead quickly made his way over to Osamu, causing his face to contort into a look of disgust.

You remained on the last step of the stairs, leaning against the cool concrete wall. The rough surface pressed against your back through your clothes, grounding you in the moment. Just before you'd come down, Chūya had promised not to kill Osamu, acknowledging its importance to you. However, as Chūya shrugged off his jacket and tossed it back to you with a fluid motion, it suddenly became apparent that he wasn't going to let this opportunity for payback slip through his fingers.

You shifted uncomfortably, the fabric of Chūya's jacket soft against your hands as you clutched it tightly. When Chūya landed a punch on Osamu that seemed to genuinely catch him off guard, you instinctively took a step forward, concern flashing across your face. However, you froze in place when you caught Osamu's subtle cue - a slight twitch of his fingers and his eyes darting meaningfully towards you. You sighed, realizing the implications. All part of the plan, huh?

Osamu's voice echoed in your mind, a memory of his earlier instructions: You're going to have to let the slug just do what he wants. He won't hurt me too much. Not with the letter I sent. Especially… not with you there.

As the confrontation unfolded, Chūya occasionally glanced back at you, perhaps gauging your reaction. Though you couldn't make out their words over the pounding of your heart, you didn't need to hear them. Osamu had already briefed you on the gist of what would transpire.

You watched as Osamu's lips moved, no doubt delivering some cutting remark designed to provoke Chūya further. The effect was immediate - Chūya's body tensed, his hand flying to his knife. In a flash of movement that made you flinch, he slammed the blade into the wall beside Osamu's head, the sharp edge barely grazing his cheek.

As Chūya turned and began stalking towards you, his eyes blazing with a mix of satisfaction and lingering anger, you finally stepped off the last stair. Your heels clicked against the concrete floor as you moved to meet him, your posture straightening as you prepared to play your part in this dangerous game of deception.

"Have fun?" you remarked with a smirk as you approached, holding out his coat. Chūya snatched the cloth from you as he gritted his teeth in frustration, glaring at you.

Osamu interjected smoothly, "It's funny. 'Chūya driven out of the organization because of me' had a nice ring to it, too."

Chūya whirled back, shooting you an unappreciative glance. "Wait. You two! You were both playin' me! Fuckin' bitch."

You let out a huff, placing your hands on your hips as you faced him. "Now, now, Chūya. I let you beat up my boyfriend because of your weird dynamic, and this is the thanks I get?"

Osamu's low chuckle grew closer as he reached your side, his presence a comforting warmth. "Leave her be, Chūya. She only helped a little." He idly toyed with the knife in his hand, the blade catching the light. "Besides, this was a reunion long in the making for the three of us. It was only fair to have a surprise of this caliber."

Chūya whipped around, his auburn hair flying as he turned his back on you both. "I'm gonna kill you both one day, I swear."

"Oh, by the way," Osamu smirked, glancing at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Didn't you see Chūya break the chains and let me free?"

You tapped a finger against your lips, feigning thoughtfulness. "I do think I recall seeing that, yeah. So, if you were to run away now, he'd be the one on the chopping block for it."

"WHAT?!" Chūya spun back around, his face contorted with rage. "You bastard!"

Ignoring Chūya's outburst, you dramatically leaned towards Osamu. "But couldn't you just make it look like someone from the Agency came and rescued you?"

Osamu rubbed the back of his head with his free hand, affecting a lazy demeanor. "I mean... I could... but that sounds like a lot of work."

Chūya's eyes narrowed as he looked pointedly at Osamu. "And why would I believe you, the pathological liar?"

"I don't lie in these kinds of negotiations. I think you know that." Osamu's voice was steady as he casually tossed the knife back to Chūya, who caught it with practiced ease despite his anger.

Chūya was visibly livid, his fury directed not only at Osamu but at you as well. His fists clenched at his sides as he struggled to contain his temper. "Fuckin' hell... Just what'd ya want?"

Osamu slid his hands into his pockets, his posture relaxed. "It's as I said earlier."

You crossed your arms as Chūya glanced at you, then closed his eyes in exasperation. "Why would you ask me when she knows too?"

Osamu gave you an expressive look. The two of you had your suspicions, but with every mafia member keeping their lips sealed, you lacked the definitive location of the information Osamu required.

You shrugged, your voice casual. "All I know is that Akutagawa has been leading the hunt."

Chūya let out an exasperated sigh, his shoulders slumping slightly. "The records should be in the comms storage room on the second floor."

"Ooooh. You were right, Osamu." The two of you exchanged a knowing nod.

"What did you even need me to say that for then?!" Chūya spun around, flinging his coat back upon his shoulders with a flourish. He let out a puff of air as he began to walk away. "Just get what you came for and get the fuck outta here, you ass. And try not to get Izanami in too much trouble."

You smirked at Osamu and let out a breathy laugh as he thanked Chūya. When Chūya was halfway up the stairs, still muttering threats, you nudged Osamu's arm.

"Oh yeah." Osamu leaned forward, calling out to Chūya with a mischievous glint in his eye. "Noooo, you're doing it wrong! Aren't you forgetting something?"

You smiled and joined in, leaning forward to shout with Osamu, "Don't you think you're forgetting something, Chuuuuuya?"

Chūya stopped, huffing out a breath as he let his head fall back slightly. Then, his knees came together as he dramatically turned to face you both. He pointed, using the worst attempt he could at a breathy feminine voice, "There will be no second chance!"

You and Osamu stood there, desperately trying not to burst out laughing.

"N-n-no... second... chance?" Chūya's temper quickly changed. "What the fuck?! You guys should be laughing!"

Your lips began to betray you as you looked at Osamu, who was also fighting the urge to laugh. Only when your eyes met did you both let loose a roar of amusement. You reached out and grasped Osamu's arm, nearly doubling over. His hand went to your waist for support as you both shook with laughter.

As you wiped a tear from your eyes, you hardly noticed Chūya storming off, his muttered curses fading into the distance.

"Well, that wasn't at all nerve-wracking, even with that stupid excuse for a disguise. At least you got what you came here for." You stepped out into the spacious entryway of your penthouse, the soft glow of recessed lighting illuminating the modern décor. Osamu trailed behind you, his eyes roaming curiously over the sleek furnishings and artwork adorning the walls. It had been quite some time since he had crossed the threshold of your living space, and you could sense his subtle assessment of how things might have changed.

"Why is there an extra set of house shoes here?" Osamu's voice carried a hint of suspicion as he pointed towards a pair of familiar shoes in the doorway. You turned back, your gaze flicking from his outstretched finger to Chūya's worn leather loafers.

"You're smart, figure it out." Your tone was dismissive as you made your way into the expansive kitchen. The polished granite countertops gleamed under the pendant lights, a stark contrast to the layer of dust that had settled on the high-end appliances. No one had cooked here in quite some time, not even you. It was always take-out or restaurant dining, a testament to the responsibilities thrust upon you since your return from Italy.

You opened the stainless-steel refrigerator, the cool air washing over you as you grasped a bottle of your favorite Moscato. When you turned around, you caught sight of Osamu unceremoniously dropping Chūya's house shoes into the nearest trash can, a look of disgust marring his features.

"Osamu!" You snapped harshly, your voice echoing in the open-plan living area. "We've bothered him enough for the day."

"Nah," he sighed, plopping down on your plush leather couch. His nimble fingers began to paw at the files strewn across your glass coffee table, his brow furrowing as he scanned the documents. "These your casino numbers? Looks like someone's gonna be in trouble..."

You hummed noncommittally, deftly popping open the bottle of wine. No need for a glass when it was all going to get drunk anyway. You joined him on the couch, pulling your leg up underneath you, the soft leather cool against your skin.

As you settled in, your mind wandered to the real issue at hand. It wasn't the revenue of the casino that was trending downward, but rather the imports moving through its walls. A small, almost negligible number of weapons were going missing during processing. At first, you had been reluctant to dwell on it, knowing that a proper investigation would demand far more time than you were willing to allocate. However, with the inconsistencies growing, you knew it was only a matter of time before Mori would be breathing down your neck, his cold eyes demanding answers you weren't sure you could provide.

The weight of the situation settled over you like a shroud as you took a long swig from the bottle, the sweet Moscato a stark contrast to the bitter thoughts swirling in your mind.

"Yeah, I just need to figure out where it's going." You grasped a sleek remote beside you, pointing it toward the large, high-definition screen mounted on the wall. It flickered to life, illuminating the dimly lit room with a mosaic of camera feeds from various angles within the casino. Some showed the bustling gaming tables, while others revealed the shadowy back hallways where the real business was conducted.

"Wow. You must get really bored if this is what you do all day." Osamu teased, his fingers deftly flipping through the pages of reports. The rustling of paper mingled with the muted sounds from the surveillance feeds.

You plucked the documents from his hands, your tone tinged with a mix of frustration and weariness. "Well, I unfortunately don't have the luxury of calling out whenever I'm just 'not feeling it'. Also, I'm about to get really angry if you're about to say you figured it out."

He laughed, a warm sound that momentarily lightened the tension in the room. Relinquishing the papers, he immediately reached for another stack. "No, though, I wish I could make it that simple for you. Ranpo could figure it out in a split second."

You hummed thoughtfully, your eyes darting across the array of screens before you. You noted small changes needed in camera angles and observed how guests were responding to various aspects of the casino. One angle in particular caught your eye – a view over a blackjack table where a brunette man sat, his movements suggesting he was counting cards. There was something odd about him, and you began to wrack your brain, trying to place what the reason was.

As you pondered, your thoughts drifted to your recent conversation with Mori. There were only a few reasons why he would agree to allow you such autonomy. Firstly, your position as an executive was one of the highest forms of trust within the organization. Alternatively, Mori might be allowing this situation to play out for the long game. His desire for Osamu's return was no secret.

A sobering thought crossed your mind: on the minuscule chance Osamu did somehow agree to return, he would likely usurp your position as executive, becoming Mori's right hand and the Port Mafia's next leader.

You turned your head to look at Osamu, his brow furrowed in concentration as he pored over the reports. The soft glow from the nearby lamp cast shadows across his face, accentuating the sharp angles of his cheekbones and the intensity in his eyes. In this moment, you found yourself drawn to this version of him – the one that most resembled Oda, yet with subtle differences that were uniquely Osamu.

As you watched him, you realized there were new facets to his personality that you were starting to love, though you would never stop cherishing who he was before. The thought struck you: isn't this what it means to truly love someone? Loving them unconditionally is to embrace both the old version and the new one that grows with or without you. It's accepting the evolution of a person, cherishing their core while appreciating the changes life brings.

Your mind wandered back to the possibility of Osamu returning to the Port Mafia. The idea sent a chill down your spine, not because of your potential loss of power, but because of what it would mean for him. He had made such significant progress in becoming the person that Oda had asked him to be – a better man, one who used his abilities for good rather than destruction. You couldn't bear the thought of him taking all these steps forward only to backtrack several years now.

The weight of these thoughts pressed heavily on your chest. Perhaps, if he did consider returning, you would attempt to convince him otherwise. You imagined the conversations you might have, the arguments you'd make, all in an effort to preserve the growth he had achieved. It wasn't about your position or the power dynamics within the Port Mafia; it was about protecting the man he had become, the one who was inching closer to fulfilling Oda's dying wish.

Your contemplative sigh, heavy with unspoken concerns, caught his attention. Osamu looked up from the papers, his eyes meeting yours. In that moment, you saw a flash of something – concern, curiosity, maybe even a hint of vulnerability – cross his face. It was a reminder of how far he'd come, how much more open he was now compared to his days in the Port Mafia.

Setting aside the documents, Osamu wrapped his arm around you, pulling you against his chest. The warmth of his body and the familiar scent of his cologne enveloped you, providing a momentary respite from your worries.

"What's got you all caught up in there?" he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. His voice held a note of genuine concern, a rare display of vulnerability in the usually guarded man.

As you nestled against him, your lips parted, ready to spill everything that was on your mind. However, at the last moment, you hesitated, closing your mouth before the words could escape. You shook your head slightly, earning a snug squeeze from Osamu. Your eyes drifted back to the brown-haired man on the screen, his movements suddenly capturing your full attention.

"That man isn't only counting cards, he's fucking memorizing them," you said, slightly pushing off Osamu's chest. His attention turned to the screen as well, his eyes narrowing as he observed the player's subtle movements.

"Wow, worst casino you could possibly want to do that in, too," Osamu remarked, his voice tinged with a mix of amusement and curiosity. "He's probably trying to get your attention then."

It really did seem that way. The man's sleight of hand and intentional movements were almost too obvious. You doubted the dealer could see, but as soon as your phone began to ring with its shrill tone, you hoped your floor manager had spotted it as well.

"Izanami," you spoke curtly into the phone, your voice automatically shifting into a more authoritative tone.

You reluctantly crawled from the comfort of Osamu's arms; the loss of his warmth immediately noticeable as you walked over to the TV for a closer look.

"Just 'cause you're getting closer doesn't mean the picture will be any less fuzzy," Osamu quipped from the couch, his voice laced with playful sarcasm. You turned and stuck your tongue out at him, a moment of levity in the tense situation. He responded with a smirk and blew you a cheeky kiss, the familiar gesture bringing a brief smile to your face.

"Ma'am, table A12. We are currently watching—" your floor manager's voice crackled through the phone.

"Grab him and take him before he takes anymore of my patron's or the casino's money," you interrupted, your tone leaving no room for argument.

"Miss, this is his sixth visit in the past week. He's sat at the same table and asks every visit when you will make an appearance."

Your head jerked back slightly in confusion, brow furrowing as you processed this new information. You muttered a curse to yourself, then spoke to your manager once more, your voice low and controlled. "Place him in a holding room then. I'll be down in thirty."

You huffed as you closed your phone, frustration evident in your voice. "So much for a quiet night in."

Noticing the smirk remaining on Osamu's face, you raised an inquisitive eyebrow at him, silently demanding an explanation.

"What about a night with you and I together ever says 'quiet'?" he teased, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

You puffed out a breath, trying to refrain from laughing. Heat crawled up your face, a mix of amusement and exasperation coloring your cheeks. Turning away to hide your reaction, you walked into your room. "Well, it doesn't matter now. I have to head to the casino."

No reply called back to you as you headed into your spacious closet, but you could sense Osamu's presence not far behind. You could feel his eyes on you as you meticulously looked through your clothes.

"I guess you'll have to go back to your dorm," you said, a note of reluctance in your voice. "I can't just leave you here."

After a moment, you looked back at him, taking in his relaxed posture as he leaned against the frame of the closet door, hands tucked into his slack pockets. His expression remained unchanged, a hint of expectation in his eyes, as if silently telling you what you should do without saying it aloud.

"Or," you found yourself saying, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth as you placed your hands on your hips in mock defeat. "You could come with."

His mood instantly shifted, excitement painting itself across his features. His eyes lit up, a rare genuine smile breaking through. "Yes! I think that's an even better idea."

You laughed, the sound light and playful in the quiet of the closet. "Though..." you trailed off, a mischievous glint in your eye.

He cocked his head to the side, eyes widening with curiosity. The gesture was oddly endearing, reminding you of a puppy presented with an unexpected promise of a treat.

"What you're wearing isn't really the dress code," you explained, your gaze sweeping over his usual, casual attire.

He raised an eyebrow, surprise evident in his voice. "Your casino has a dress code?"

You turned back to your wardrobe, fingers brushing over luxurious fabrics before grasping a sleek black halter dress. You laid it carefully over your bent arm, the silky material catching the light. "Yes. I have a dress code at my casino. If you make the guests dress nice, then they will have the mindset that they are in a high-class establishment. Which the Starlight is."

Osamu tsked playfully, a hint of admiration in his tone. "Playing mind games on your guests isn't really nice, Bella."

You shrugged, a playful grin playing on your lips. "I've done worse."

With a sense of purpose, you headed deeper into the closet, your fingers brushing past designer labels until they found a hidden clothes bag tucked away in the back. You paused, your hand resting on the zipper as a wave of emotions washed over you. Taking a deep breath, you turned back to Osamu.

"Oda and I had planned on giving this to you when I came back, but well..." your voice trailed off, the unspoken history hanging between you.

You held the bag out to him, and he took it with a mixture of curiosity and reverence. His fingers deftly unzipped the bag, revealing a stunning navy-blue suit, complete with a crisp black button-up and a rich maroon tie. The quality of the garment was evident even at a glance.

"It was his," you murmured, your voice soft with memory. "We had the tailor customize it to your last measurements, give or take your projected growth." You paused, swallowing the lump in your throat. "He really wanted to see you wear it, too."

His eyes softened looking at the suit. “Well, I guess it’s good your casino has a required dress code.”

Osamu's fingers deftly traced along the lapel of the navy-blue suit, smoothing out imaginary wrinkles as they continued downward. He straightened the maroon tie, the silk cool against his calloused fingertips, as he gazed at his reflection in the full-length mirror. The suit fit him perfectly, as if it had been tailored just yesterday rather than years ago.

He wondered to himself if Oda had wanted to gift it to him because of his selected color palette; Osamu had always favored blacks and darker colors, whereas Oda had leaned towards lighter tones. Regardless of the reason, as he looked back at himself, a sense of unease settled in his stomach. The man staring back at him looked like he had never left the Port Mafia - polished, dangerous, and ready for whatever the night might bring.

"Is it too much? The suit?" you ask, your voice carrying a hint of vulnerability rarely heard.

He turned to see you, and his breath hitched. You were dressed effortlessly in the black halter dress, its fabric flowing like liquid shadow around your form. Twin slits rose daringly up to your hips, revealing tantalizing glimpses of skin with each movement. His keen eyes didn't miss the revolver strapped to your thigh, the lethal accessory that somehow only added to your allure.

The sight of you was almost too painful, too reminiscent of years ago during successful missions long gone. You looked like a vision from the past, yet undeniably present and real.

"No," he said, trying to convince himself as much as you. "It's really nice. You two did really good."

He watched as a small, bittersweet smile graced your lips. You walked towards him with a grace that spoke of years of training and natural poise. Your hands rose to rest upon his chest, the warmth of your touch seeping through the fabric of his suit. He heard you sigh, noticing the sadness wavering in your eyes.

Osamu reached up, his fingers brushing away stray hairs from your face with a tenderness that belied his usually aloof demeanor. His touch drifted down, gently raising your chin so your eyes met his.

"Hey, don't look so sad," he murmured, his voice soft. "You're about to take me to your fabulous, upscale casino."

Your laugh rang out, a melody that Osamu hoped would never cease to exist. It was a sound that grounded him, reminding him of why he had chosen this path away from the darkness of his past.

He leaned down towards your parted lips, gently grazing his upon yours in a feather-light touch. When you attempted to deepen the kiss, he slyly moved back, a playful glint in his eyes.

"Osamu, don't tease," you breathed out, your voice a mixture of frustration and desire.

He chuckled, the sound low and rich. "I can't make you work for it?" he quipped, his tone laced with affection and mischief.

Before you could reply, he ultimately relented, meeting your lips in a kiss that spoke volumes. The warmth of your body pressed against his, the softness of your lips, the faint scent of your perfume - all of it overwhelmed his senses. If he didn't have pressing matters to attend to, he could stay here for hours; just holding you and relinquishing all responsibilities of life was all he wished he could do with you. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in this moment of tender passion.

Reluctantly, he pulled away, his thumb gently pressing against your blood-red stained bottom lip. The contrast of his pale skin against the vibrant color was striking, a visual representation of the delicate balance between tenderness and danger that defined your relationship.

In a hushed voice, you smirked, your eyes twinkling with mischief and affection. "What am I to do with you?"

He gave a light laugh but refrained from replying, letting your imagination decide upon that. The possibilities hung in the air between you, electric and enticing.

He watched you turn away, your movements fluid and graceful as you retreated to the closet. You returned moments later with the maroon silk scarf, the fabric shimmering under the soft lighting of the room. You approached him again, reaching around to drape the scarf over his shoulders. The brush of your fingers against his neck sent a shiver down his spine.

"I believe the look is now complete," you murmured, turning him to face the mirror once more.

Osamu could see himself more clearly now, or rather, the image of what could have been had he remained faithful to the mafia. The man in the mirror was polished, dangerous, and undeniably attractive. Yet, there was something in his eyes - a softness, perhaps - that hadn't been there in his Port Mafia days.

You remind me of someone.

"You look very handsome, Mr. Detective," you said, your voice warm with admiration and a hint of playfulness. The warmth of your hands snaked up his waist underneath the suit jacket to rest upon his chest, squeezing him in a comforting hug. Your touch grounded him, pulling him back from the edge of his darker thoughts.

Your affection completely made up for the fact that he was doubting the whole thing; seeing himself as a reflection of someone he was trying his hardest to leave behind. The cognitive dissonance was palpable - how could he completely move on when you were so intricately entangled with everything he was, both past and present?

As he stood there, your arms around him and your reflection beside his in the mirror, Osamu felt a complex mix of emotions. Gratitude for your unwavering support, love for the woman who had stood by him through his darkest times, and a lingering uncertainty about the future. But with you by his side, he felt ready to face whatever the night might bring, walking the fine line between his past and his present with you as his anchor.

"Let me just grab my coat, then we can go," you said, your voice carrying a hint of excitement for the evening ahead.

Osamu felt the gentle graze of your hand along his arm as you walked away, the brief touch leaving a trail of warmth in its wake. He watched as you picked up your phone, your movements precise and deliberate. You punched a button, and he observed with curiosity as you allowed it to ring four times before ending the call. The significance wasn't lost on him - four, the number of death. He let his head fall into a slight shake as a smile formed upon his face. You and your dedication to death, even in the smallest of gestures.

You disappeared for the final time into the depths of your expansive closet. When you emerged, Osamu gave you one final look-over. You were now adorned in an off-the-shoulder, snow-white trench coat that contrasted beautifully with the black dress underneath. The coat seemed to glow softly in the dim light of the room, accentuating your figure and lending you an almost ethereal quality.

Osamu extended his hand to you, an invitation and a promise rolled into one. He loved every bit of this version of you. You reached for him, your hand fitting perfectly into his.

“To the Starlight!” He excitedly said, tossing his free hand into the air with a point.

“So, I can figure out what the fuck this guy wants.” You mutter, as if remembering the true reason for this outing.

The bright exterior lights of the Starlight Casino glimmered in Osamu's eyes, their golden glow reflecting off the polished surfaces of the building. While this wasn't his first time at this specific establishment, it was his first time entering its doors with you on his arm.

As the two of you stepped inside, Osamu's senses were overwhelmed by the opulent interior. Rich red carpeting stretched out before them, its plush fibers muffling his footsteps. Golden accents adorned the tables, catching the light and adding a shimmer of wealth to every surface. His eyes roamed over the meticulous details that you and Chūya had spent months planning.

"So, short stack helped you decorate this place?" he muttered in an annoyed tone as he paused in the entryway. A hint of jealousy colored his voice, wishing he could have been part of this process with you. "It looks so different than during the Rogue Roulette."

You gave a satisfied hum, your eyes sparkling with pride as you waved to patrons calling out your name. "That was the goal," you replied, your voice carrying a note of accomplishment.

Osamu soon realized the adoration you had accrued; visitors approached the two of you, singing nothing but praises of the Starlight. He observed with a mixture of pride and fascination as you handled each interaction with grace and poise. Your responses to each guest were eloquent, thanking them for their kind words and encouraging them to notify you of any needs they might have during their stay. The sincerity in your voice was palpable, and Osamu couldn't help but think that you were perfect for this role in every sense of the word.

With your hand firmly grasped in his, you guided him through the crowd, navigating the sea of patrons with ease. As you reached the bar in the center of the building, Osamu's attention was caught by your seamless slip into Italian.

"Nico, mio amico!" you called out, leaning across the polished bar top.

A middle-aged man with salt-and-pepper hair and kind eyes approached, a generous smile spreading across his face as you spoke sweetly to him. "Pour my guest a glass of The Singleton whiskey, and I'll have my usual. Grazie!"

As Nico rushed to fulfill your order, Osamu gently pulled on your arm, turning you to face him. He caged you against the bar, his proximity to you sending a subtle thrill through him. "You find him in Italy, I'm assuming?" he asked, curiosity lacing his tone.

"Nico is a good friend," you explained, your eyes meeting his. "I stole him from one of the finest restaurants in Italy. The one, in fact, I wanted to take you to when you visited. I, instead, took Chūya with me."

Osamu rolled his eyes dramatically at the thought, a hint of playful jealousy in his voice. "So, you took Chūya on a date? Then stole their bartender as compensation for the disaster that must have been?"

"It honestly wasn't that bad," you replied with a light laugh. "He made a fool of himself when he ordered, though."

Osamu watched as your eyes darted around for a moment, sensing there might be more to the story than you were letting on. Before he could press further, Nico returned, neatly placing the drinks upon the polished countertop. Osamu took note of his refined movements. Every action was precise, a testament to the man's experience and your keen eye for talent.

Osamu raised the crystal tumbler of whiskey to the man, a subtle smirk playing on his lips. "Grazie, buon signore," he said, his Italian rough but clear.

Nico's eyebrows rose in surprise, a look of intrigue crossing his face. He glanced between you and Osamu, a knowing smile forming. "You capture his heart on your travels too, signora?" he asked, his tone warm and slightly teasing.

You smiled at Nico's joke, raising the straw of your own drink to your lips. After taking a sip, you replied, "Many of my workers, such as yourself, come from there. However, my guest has always called Yokohama home." Your eyes met Osamu's, giving you a small smile as he fondly remembered each moment he had shared with you until your departure. “Treat him well should he ever visit?"

Nico gave a slight bow, warmth evident in his voice as he responded, "Certo, mia signora."

As Nico turned away to continue serving the gathering guests, Osamu's eyes followed him, curiosity piqued. He wondered about the circumstances that brought this skilled bartender from one of Italy's finest restaurants to your casino in Yokohama. Was it merely an employment agreement, or had you wielded your considerable influence to ensure his presence here?

Osamu found himself both observer and participant in your world. The crowd around you continued to grow, patrons eager for your attention. He noticed how you kept a firm grip on his hand, a subtle but clear message to those who might try to get too close. Amidst the cacophony of voices, Osamu's keen ears picked up on the undercurrents - men muttering vulgar comments about you, women eyeing you with barely concealed jealousy. Yet through it all, you maintained your composure, navigating the social minefield with the skill of a seasoned professional.

"Madam Izanami!" A hearty, booming voice rang out from a nearby table, cutting through the ambient noise of the casino.

"Prime Minister!" Osamu saw a large, genuine smile form upon your face as you tugged him along toward the Craps tables. The excitement in your voice was palpable, a stark contrast to the controlled poise you'd maintained thus far.

As you approached, Osamu took in the sight of the Italian Prime Minister - a portly man with a jovial face and expensive suit that barely contained his girth. His beefy arms were outstretched, fanning over you as you waved him off with practiced grace.

"My dear, you look as radiant as ever!" the Prime Minister exclaimed, his voice carrying a hint of an Italian accent.

"Hush, you flatter me too much," you replied, your tone warm and familiar.

Your hand attempted to leave Osamu's, but he refrained from letting go. A surge of protectiveness washed over him. It was too risky. He couldn't fathom why you would abstain from touching others yet be so quick to touch a diplomat. Touching him would risk the Port Mafia's standing with other governments, something Osamu was far too aware of.

You gave a small glimpse back to him, tapping your thumb against his hand. The gesture was subtle but clear - a request for trust.

I can't, Osamu thought to himself. Not only as a detective within the agency but as someone who wanted to protect you from anything and everything.

You tapped again as you carried out the conversation with the man, blowing on his die at his request. The Prime Minister's eyes lit up with excitement, his boisterous laugh echoing around them.

With a roar of excitement from the Prime Minister, you tapped four times, and Osamu, understanding the significance, reluctantly relinquished his right to hold you. Your hand gently rested upon the Italian Prime Minister's back, his hand snaking around your waist, thankfully, at a respectable height.

Osamu watched on, his face a mask of polite interest as the two of you discussed something, the Prime Minister's tone similar to an old friend who hadn't seen you in quite some time. He caught snippets of Italian mixed with English, the easy familiarity between you and the politician both intriguing and slightly unsettling.

The older man's gaze slipped back to Osamu, eyeing him suspiciously. His jovial demeanor shifted, taking on a more protective air. "Are you treating my girl with the utmost respect?" he asked, his voice carrying a hint of warning.

Osamu straightened, his smile breaking through to hide his internal thoughts. "Of course, I wouldn't dream of besmirching cara mia," he replied smoothly, his Italian pronunciation perfect.

The Prime Minister raised his eyebrow, clearly impressed but not entirely convinced. "One wrong move and it won't be only the Port Mafia you will have to worry about, boy," he warned, his tone leaving no doubt about the seriousness of his threat.

Osamu felt the corner of his lips twitch at the threat. You had very obviously made friends in high places, a fact that both impressed and concerned him.

"Oh, Amedeo. Stop that," you chided gently, tapping the Prime Minister's chest lightly as you moved away, rejoining Osamu's side and grasping his hand once more. The warmth of your touch was a welcome comfort. "Try not to take all of my casino's money tonight. However, I hope you are successful at the least. Have a safe flight home and tell the missus I say hello."

"Of course, mia ragazza," Amedeo replied warmly, waving the two of you off as his attention returned to the Craps table.

You turned on your heels, leading Osamu further into the depths of the casino. The liveliness of the halls began to die down once you opened a door to the back corridors, the sounds of the casino floor muffling behind you.

"So," Osamu's curiosity finally piqued at the absence of eavesdroppers. "What did you do to him?"

You smiled back solemnly, a hint of sadness in your eyes. "With all my time in Italy, you seriously think I would attempt to kill him?"

"With all things considered?" Osamu pressed, his tone a mixture of curiosity and concern.

You stop as you gave a breathy laugh, but it didn't quite reach your eyes. "He has cancer," you revealed, your voice softening. "Though, possibly to your surprise, I didn’t cause it."

Osamu paused before issuing a reaction, waiting for your explanation.

“He visits the casino, every so often. With my education, thanks to Dr. Stevenson, I think about molecular structures, down to the cellular functions. With the Prime Minister, I can’t cure him. However, I can provide him with more time.”

Osamu stood stunned with disbelief as the two of you continued down the corridor. “So, Italy was beneficial after all. Never would’ve though Mori would do something in your favor.”

You laugh, “I know. Doesn’t he realize he’s signed his death certificate with that?”

Along the long stretch of the cemented walls, a man stood at attention awaiting you.

“Miss.” He bowed with precise motion. “He’s asked for you once more after we detained him.”

“Has he said anything of interest otherwise?” You shrug the coat from your arms, the revolver catching Osamu’s eyes once more. Osamu reaches to grasp the coat from you before you had a chance to hand it off to your manager. His stomach flipping lightly at the soft look in your eyes, before they harden once more toward the door.

“No ma’am. He’s been silent otherwise.”

Osamu watched as you nodded decisively, grasping the door handle and entering the room. He followed close behind, noting the manager's quizzical look as he closed the door.

Moving into the dimly lit corner, Osamu positioned himself facing the man handcuffed to the table. Despite being a detective with the Agency, he felt compelled to remain a silent observer. This was your casino, Port Mafia territory. He refrained from speaking out against the man's wrongdoings, partly because he knew the impending show would be something to behold, even if it contradicted Oda's dying wish. Osamu convinced himself that Oda would understand, because it was you he was with.

He watched intently as you circled the table, your movements graceful yet predatory. The air crackled with tension as you waited for the man to either speak up confidently or beg for mercy. Surprisingly, neither occurred.

"Tell me," the man finally broke the silence, his gaze fixed on his chained wrists. His thick Russian accent caught you off guard as he continued, "Are you the bitch who owns this establishment?"

"And if I am?" You tilted your head, your voice dripping with honeyed venom. "What makes you think you can enter my casino and make a fool of the Port Mafia's Izanami?"

The man's response was a smirk that gradually evolved into raucous laughter.

Irritation flashed across your face. In one fluid motion, you grasped the metal seat and yanked it out from under him. The man crashed to the floor, his laughter abruptly silenced. Osamu could now clearly see the scar running down the corner of his mouth, his brown eyes darting about wildly.

"Where's your laughter now?" you hissed. "I'm the bitch that will end your life. Now, why are you here? Why have you come to meet your end?"

"I came because I was ordered to," the man replied, his voice steady despite his prone position. "I have a message for you."

As the man attempted to reach into his breast pocket, Osamu stepped forward. With practiced ease, he slipped his hand into the man's pocket, retrieving a sealed letter. He showed you the wax seal, pretending not to notice the faint outline of a rat.

Your eyes widened momentarily before narrowing sharply. "Who sent you?!" you demanded, grasping the man's shirt roughly.

Osamu retreated, letter in hand, his mind racing. He recognized the emblem, but your reaction raised questions about your connection to it.

You were now in full contact with the man, yet the expected anaphylactic shock hadn't set in. "Who sent you?!" you repeated, fear evident in your eyes.

The man's lips moved; his words inaudible to Osamu but clearly heard by you. A smile curled your lips as you began to squeeze the man's neck.

Your voice, sweet yet deadly, broke the silence. "No man could ever build a perfect world such as this one."

Blood began to spill from the man's eyes and nose, a gruesome sight that didn't deter you.

"Do svidaniya, yego tsvetok," the man choked out his final words, his blood spattering your face. Yet you didn't release your grip, continuing to squeeze as if fearing his resurrection.

Osamu sensed your fear beneath the facade of madness. "Bella, he's gone," he said softly.

You blinked, looking up as if suddenly remembering his presence. Glancing back at the lifeless man, you murmured, "Oh, I suppose he is." Your hands released their grip, and the body hit the floor with a dull thud, leaving an eerie silence in its wake.

Osamu watched intently as you approached, your heels clicking sharply against the concrete floor. Each step echoed in the silent room, amplifying the tension. Despite the blood staining your face and clothes, he found himself captivated. This darker side of you stirred something within him - a mixture of admiration and nostalgia for the days when you both walked in the shadows of the Port Mafia.

"Can I have the note?" you asked, extending your hand towards him.

Osamu raised his eyebrows, feigning forgetfulness about the paper. A part of him wanted to keep it, to examine it away from your watchful eyes and unravel the mystery of why he was sending you letters. The weight of the paper felt significant in his pocket, a secret he was reluctant to relinquish.

"'Samu, give me the paper." Your words carried an unexpected edge that caught him off guard.

Reluctantly, he retrieved the folded sheet from within his suit. He hovered it above your outstretched hand for a moment, then pulled back as you reached for it. A small act of defiance, born from his growing curiosity and concern.

"Before I do," he said, his voice low and probing, "what did he say to you?"

He watched as your eyes flashed with annoyance, the blood on your face accentuating the intensity of your gaze. "Nothing of major importance," you replied, but Osamu knew better.

As you attempted to grasp the paper once more, he deftly moved it out of your reach. A playful smirk tugged at his lips, masking his growing unease. "You had quite the reaction for it to be nothing."

He observed you huff, poking your tongue into your cheek - a telltale sign he recognized as you formulating a lie. Deciding against listening to whatever half-baked story you might concoct, Osamu sighed and handed you the slip.

"I trust you will tell me when you're ready," he said, resignation coloring his voice at the unexpected turn of events. "I know who it's from, though. So please, don't allow him to manipulate you." The words felt heavy on his tongue, laden with concern and a hint of jealousy.

Your expression softened slightly as you took the paper, and Osamu felt a glimmer of hope. "Amore mio, that man could never do such a thing. I promise, when I have a full understanding of what's going on, I will tell you."

As you turned away to unfold the slip of paper, Osamu stepped closer, unable to resist. He peered over your shoulder, his breath hitching as he took in the contents: a simple drawing of a whale and a cryptic note that read, "So it begins, moy tsvetok."

“He brings word to you. He will build the perfect world for you.”

previous part ~ next part | DBH masterlist | BSD Masterverse

We are getting into things now, and I have more to come I promise. I have like reader's whole thing semi-thought out up to the most recent events anime/manga wise. Like, if y'all enjoyed this, just wait until I get Beast out. ugh I love writing way too much. Anyone relate?

Song Inspo: Villian— K/DA

Anyways! Hope you enjoyed this part, if you did and feel compelled, give her a little like and repost?

Thank you to everyone who gives this a little read, and until the next installment <3 ~DamzelZelda

#bsd #bsd dazai #bsd x reader #bsd x you #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #dazai osamu x reader #dazai x reader #dazai x y/n #bungo stray dogs x reader

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spaceorphan18 · 26 days

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The Lady Whistledown Papers: 1x06 Swish (Part 4)

Welcome back, Gentle Readers, to The Lady Whistledown Papers, where I’m taking an in-depth look at Penelope Featherington and Colin Bridgerton’s character arcs and romance within the show Bridgerton!

For previous issues, follow tag : The Lady Whistledown Papers

No pity remarks for this one, let's dig into it...

After Dinner

Prudence's singing. I'm crying. It's so hilariously bad. And I appreciate that it's actually bad. I'm tired of people singing in things trying to be 'bad' but they just sound weirdly off but still on pitch or something. No, this is truly awful singing and I love it. Everyone's reaction shots are truly amazing. I love that Colin is like - yup, not sure what I expected but this seems about right.

The cinematography of this shot! This is a masterful little moment, omg. The way Penelope is framed by the silhouettes of Colin and Marina -- and that Colin is leaning into Marina in what feels like an intimate push in. And the sadness on Penelope's face... the way she's ignoring the comedy of Prudence's singing because she's so fixated on Colin and Marina and wrestling with herself on what to do... This is an amazing shot. Visual storytelling at its finest.

Colin is telling Marina he'll be right back, but I want to know where he's going. They're in the Featherington Home, not the Bridgerton place. Does he need to use a chamber pot? Do the next two scene really happen while he needs to pee?? He clearly needs to just get out of the room for the next scene to happen and I don't think anyone ever really notices until you're doing analysis like this, because then it's like, huh, wait... why?

Doesn't really matter... We're focused on Pen and she's watching and she is nervous. She's visibly gearing herself up, making the decision on whether or not she's going to approach him and she sees her moment and takes it.

[Seriously, where was he going? He was about to head up the stairs. Also, can we discuss Portia's obsession with yellow? The Featherington's house is all yellows. Btw, in the book she likes yellow because it's a 'happy' color.]

Pen heads out after Colin, and asks if he's got a moment. His first reaction is completely -- yes, of course, (I don't need to pee that bad, I just wanted to get out of that room and away from your sister's singing, lol). No, but seriously, he calls her Pen again, and has such a note of concern in his voice. And I can't reiterate this enough -- for the time period, for the society that they're in, the ease in which this conversation starts is kind of remarkable. There are no formalities here. Just an established relationship and familiarity.

Everything about that dinner had been formal and by the book. Everyone was playing a part, downplaying their own thoughts and feelings because they are in an era where there are proper ways of doing things. But these two don't play by any of those rules. They don't need to - because the bond has been there since childhood.

Anyway... can I take a second and say how much I love how this shot is set up? I love the candles lit in the room that's between them. It almost feels like a romantic moment.

Penelope states she has a delicate matter she doesn't really want to bring up, but feels like she must.

Colin can very much sense the seriousness in Pen, and tries to ease the situation with a bit of (self-deprecating, fwiw) humor. It's no doubt that there probably have been little jokes like this before -- where Pen (and probably Eloise) have teased him about such a thing like food on his face. But he knows that's not what this really is -- he's trying to ease the situation, and make her feel okay for telling him, whatever it is. I don't think he has a clue as to what it is and it's genuinely confusing, but it's Pen, and she's clearly upset about something.

Penelope is very nervous about this confrontation. Her voice is a little shaky and she rushes through an explanation about how she hasn't had a chance to talk to him since the engagement was announced. And for a moment -- you may think Pen might spill the beans on the pregnancy. But she doesn't. She doesn't land that blow, because that'll be the most devastating thing she can do, so she's trying another approach. Something that might be a tad more palatable to swallow (and be less scandal than a pregnancy and entrapment).

Penelope tells him that Marina is in love with someone else. And at first there's a look of utter shock on his face - as his eyes flicker to the drawing room, where Marina is. Penelope continues her explanation, stating that she knows because she's seen the letters between them, and spills all the info on George Crane. And she's still so nervous as she says all of this -- talking fast, rambling a bit, she just needs to get it out. She's also apologetic, because she doesn't want him to be hurt by this info.

And while, yes, she's doing this out of her own feelings for him, she does truly care about him and his well being. She doesn't want to see him unhappy -- which will be what ultimately happens if he does marry Marina.

And here's the thing THE THING about this moment. He's so gone in his own delusions and fantasies her words aren't really landing BUT the first thing he does is sense how frantic she's being and makes it a point to calm her down. Before he talks about how he's feeling -- he makes it about her. He gives her an easy smile, TAKES HER HAND and tells her how good she is to him.

I can't get over that -- he's recognizing (even if in his mind it's friendship) that she has his best interest at heart. And appreciates that she's had the courage to tell him all of that. He doesn't outright dismiss her warning and ignore how she feels about it -- he recognizes it and makes her more comfortable, even if what she just told him could be life altering.

And, again, I have to state they went for the wide shot here, even though we don't see them holding hands, you can tell that he reaches for hand (which, again, big deal for this time period). But also we have that beautiful framing with the lights in between them. It's subtly a romantic(-esque) moment between the two of them.

And... then we get into Colin being so caught up with his own fantasy land that her words just don't matter. At first he claims it's trivial -- he's flirted countless times with other girls, and it's never been serious. There's no reason Marina couldn't have flirted with other guys. To Colin, flirting is just that -- flirting, and should never be taken that seriously.

But Pen doubles down (look, I love Colin to pieces, but she is by far the smarter one out of the two of them) and says that they're in LOVE. It's not a harmless flirtation. It's also not in the past. What she's trying to say -- but won't do it outright because she wants him to come to this conclusion on his own -- is that Marina doesn't love him.

And I mean, there's the crux of it, too. She knows what it's like to be deeply in love with Colin. She's standing right there and expressing it by trying to protect him. Marina isn't doing that at all. But for so many reasons she just can't be straight with her words. She's being as cautious as she can be, trying to help him without giving up the whole big plan or her own feelings.

And then Colin doubles down, because he really doesn't want to be wrong about this. He reiterates that Marina has agreed to marry him, not some other guy. That means something to him in a way that it might not for other people. He stated with Anthony, earlier, something that is true in his heart -- you marry for love. So in his love addled brain, the only reason Marina agreed to his proposal is because she loves him back. He almost can't comprehend anything else.

He also tells Penelope to not worry about it, he's sure of himself and of Marina. Which really is his downfall. It's not a lack of trust with Penelope at all -- he does trust that she has his best interests at heart with the information. But he is too trusting of Marina. He's now ignored his brother, his mother, and his good friend's advice, because he can't be wrong about this.

It's at this point that Marina shows up, and 'catches' Pen and Colin. They both kind of break apart -- because if anyone else caught them, it'd be almost scandalous. (Should we start taking shots for how many times they're alone together without a chaperone?) But it's Marina because she saw Colin leave, and then saw Penelope leave, and Marina is smart. She's very smart. And she's purposely interrupting because she knows Penelope is upset with her about the situation, and while Penelope claimed earlier that she wouldn't do anything to hurt anyone, the two of them have been out in the hallway a long time, and she isn't going to let anyone stand in her way of what she's trying to accomplish...

Colin, of course, brings it back to wit and charm, claiming the party is now better without Prudence's terrible singing (which now can be heard again, as a bit of levity in this heavier moment). Marina says that Portia is asking for Penelope. Is she? Possibly. But idk, she may have wondered out loud where did Penelope go, but I don't think Portia gives all that much thought to Penelope and her sneaking out of social situations.

The non-verbal things you can actually read in Penelope... it's a masterclass, really. She knows what Marina is doing. She doesn't want to leave the two of them alone together. But she can't deny a request from her mother. And, oh, does she stare Marina down in this moment. She failed in her attempt to get through to Colin, and she's running out of options...

Penelope and Colin share a final look, and she's unsure about leaving, but Colin kind of nods reassurance to her, it'll be fine. He's completely misunderstanding her, but, well, he kind of does want to be alone with Marina, so she shuffles off, frustrated.

Marina, meanwhile, has her own agenda.

As I'll probably end up saying a thousand times, Colin is a pretty empathetic soul, who really wants to help people. He thinks his worth is brought about by how much service he can provide for others. But where he trips up is that he isn't always understanding of authenticity. Because Marina is completely playing to understanding this during this scene.

Colin notes her unhappiness, and the first thing he does is apologize -- for his family not being 100% supportive of her or of them.

And here's my thing about Marina. I think here are some grains of truth buried in some of this. I do think it does hurt her that her family doesn't want her, and that the Featheringtons have been a general pain in the ass, and she seems to have lost her one ally (Penelope) during all of this. But she lays it on thick, because she knows it'll lock Colin in even more. She knows he needs to save her, and what she does need is saving. So, she's going to play it up the best she can.

The big kicker is when she says that she doesn't feel like she's accepted by his family. Because that's going to kickstart something in his brain. Now they're Romeo and Juliet. Now they're stilted lovers that are pushing against the world to make their love survive. Now it's just them in a world that doesn't want them to be.

And this TOTALLY plays on Colin's sense of romanticism. He's ready to be the romantic hero and say fuck the rest of them, you and I are family, you and I can be on our own, and start our own family, and we don't need anyone or anything else in the world.

And this is where Marina goes from half truths to deceiving him. She does say that all she wants is to be married to him, that isn't a lie, not really. But it's to save herself from her situation. Not at all out of love. She's glad that Colin is a kind soul, it'll make the marriage easier, but she has no real feelings for him. And she's manipulating his to get what she wants.

She then goes into complete lies -- claiming that she wants to be married this minute so that they could be alone and hold each other in their arms. Again, she's being calculated to play up his emotions, and that deep seeded romanticism. But it's all so that she can hurry the marriage along, and so that she can get to seducing him. Because that's an added element here. She has to get him into bed rather quickly, and if he won't until marriage, well then, they better get on that, too.

Oh man, is she playing him...

Because what does he do next? Well, what did Romeo and Juliet do? They eloped... So he and Marina could elope and they could be together away from the world and its rules and expectations and families and friends who have their doubts... He suggests running off to Scotland where (I guess?) it's possible to get married without having to do all the things necessary back in Mayfair.

I kind of wonder if she knew about the Scotland option? I wonder if it was an idea she had with George? Whether she knew or not, she was pushing him to get to this point -- to where elopement seems like not only the best but the only option they have.

And he's so excited to have thought of it. And ideas start rushing to him, and he starts spitting out how they could runaway and even though they'll get push back upon return, it'll be fine. They'll be married. What is better than that?

(Btw, I kind of love that you can see his entire thought process on his face, how he's trying to rationalize, for just a moment, as he thinks of what Anthony's reaction could be, and then his fantasies just take over again as he comes to the conclusion that any actions ending with a marriage to Marina would be the best actions.)

I really love the staging of this next beat. The more excited he gets, the closer he pulls in towards her, as if he's coming closer and closer to realizing what (he thinks) he wants. But Marina is kind of processing, and when she isn't visibly as caught up in this whirlwind as he is, he pulls away. Immediately. And apologizes. There is that kernel of doubt that is in the back of his mind -- the one that Anthony, Violet, and Penelope have put there.

Marina sense this immediately, though, and quickly pulls him back into the haze. She was just momentarily caught off guard (that this plan is working so well). She says it's exactly what she wants -- and again, she's not lying. but she's not being truthful about her own feelings, either.

And then Marina gives her biggest lie. She says she loves the idea. But then she also straight up says 'I love you'. Which is the epitome of what he wants to hear. And his mind is made up. Done. He'll put his affairs in order in the next day, and they'll be off.

Close the book on that one, it's over...

The hug at the end is interesting. We don't need to see what Colin is thinking/feeling we really know. But Marina's reaction is not one of love or ecstasy. It's one of relief.

Everything is coming together, just how she wants it, even at the expense of Colin and his feelings. The thing I find the most interesting is that Marina is a very calculated person. Everything she does in this scene is very carefully done so she can get Colin to the place she wants. But there's one variable she can't control and won't ever see coming... Lady Whistledown.

But more on that in the next one ;)

#bridgerton #polin #penelope featherington #penelope bridgerton #colin bridgerton #colin x penelope #polination #the lady whistledown papers

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beanibon · 8 months

Note

Do you do g/t requests? If so, would you be willing to do something with a Giant! Knives and a Tiny!Reader? It could be sfw or nsfw. Much appreciated!

Of course! Fair warning I may not be the best with g/t, but something about a tall Knives coddling his tiny human makes me soft!

CW: nothing! Just pure tooth rotting fluff and wholesomeness, sorry Anon I really wanted to give Knives some loving from his tiny mate.

If anyone were to ask where you'd see yourself in the future, the first thing that came mind would be the opposite of this. Enjoying the sunset on the tallest building in Julai city, with an oversized, 10 foot tall, independent plant wrapped around you like a cat.

Still, nothing could change this, not even if world was offered in its stead. How could you ever possibly replace the rare affection of your odd relationship with the planets most deadly creature. You simply couldn't.

As your hand brushed through those soft tresses of platinum blonde hair, humming as the wind began to turn chilly, you couldn't contain the smile from appearing on your face.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" You asked softly, afraid to stir the partially snoozing Knives.

A huff sounded, ice cold eyes staring up into your own as they solely focused on the sky. "I suppose, though I find gazing at you much more preferable."

"Is that so?" You giggled.

"Is it wrong to compliment my mate?" He queried, often getting confused at your teases. Knives had never quite grasped the concept of human behaviours, characteristics and personality. Why would he when his soul intention was to free his sisters from humans? Yet he tried around you, finding it difficult at times when you playfully teased him.

Gently you grasped his face, a loving kiss placed between his brows. It was enough reassurance that you only teased, leaving the plant to untense and bury his face against you.

These times spent together were rare, as Knives spent more and more time travelling to reclaim what was his. Never did he take you with him, for fear of you getting hurt or worse. So you remained in the care of the Eye of Michael in his absence, that way you were always protected.

He stirred, shuffling into a sitting position where he gently scooped you into his lap, arms wrapped around your small frame. The warmth you provided was comforting, easing Knives into a light slumber.

"Are you tired, my angel?" You asked, gazing up as his eyes opened reluctantly.

Those cold eyes were only ever filled with warmth when gazing upon you, the moment you weren't in view that stare turned stone cold immediately.

"Yes, but if you wish to stay beneath the stars longer than I'll stay."

"Ever the gentleman," Your laughter was addictive, if only he was more skilled in bringing it out. Humor wasn't his strong suit. "But I can enjoy it inside just as much as out here, so please take me inside. That way you can rest, you've had a long journey and I'm sure others will allow their god to relax for a night."

Knives elected to ignore your mockery for tonight, ever since you happened to hear him refer to himself as a god he's been the butt of your jokes for months. Not that he truly minded, if it meant to hear your laughter.

"Hush, unless you wish for me to gain a headache." Knives attempted at a joke, which seemingly worked as he hoisted your tiny body with ease into his arms.

"You only get headaches when you leave me unsupervised in your piano room, I can't play those notes properly with how big everything needs to be for you."

"Well, maybe you should stick with the one I had specifically crafted for you. After all, that did take a bit of funding to put together." Knives shot back, a gentle smile present as you playfully slapped his chest.

"It's not as fun!"

A deep laugh rumbled from your beloved, face nuzzled into the curvature of your small body. How he enjoyed such light-hearted banter, if only Vash were here to join, then maybe he'd feel even more complete.

"If you behave and let me rest, perhaps I'll allow for your 'artistic key smashing'." A kiss was placed against your stomach, earning him several along his forehead in return.

"You have a deal."

#trigun stampede #trigun #beanibon asks #trigun x reader #millions knives #millions knives x reader #knives millions #knives x reader #million knives x reader #millions knives x you

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lady-phasma · 4 months

Text

This specific use of the 180 Degree Rule has been nagging me since the last trailer came out. The 180 Degree Rule refers to how the camera frames the subjects in a scene so that they are "switched" when the camera moves. This is less disorienting to viewers than if the subjects stayed on the same side of the frame every time (see example below). It's a small trick, but it is noticeable when it isn't used. Logic tells us they should stay on the same side of the frame but it really doesn't work. If you are interested in understanding this further there is a great sequence in Satoshi Kon's Paprika (2006) that explains it better than I have ever seen anywhere else.

Daemon's War

The exchange between Rhaenyra and Jace in episode 10 conveys so much meaning in so few words. I'm not going to discuss Rhaenyra's desires in this post or if they conflict with Daemon's. That would need its own post all to itself.

Jacaerys: Where is Daemon? Rhaenyra: I don't know. Gone to madness. Gone to plot his war.

Daemon and his motivations are revealed so concisely. There is certainly foreshadowing here, but I appreciate that Rhaenyra knows him so well and has no expectations of him (at this point) beyond what she has seen in the past.

Daemon makes bold assumptions and is arrogant enough to think his way is the best way. When he lists Meleys in their assets there is no doubt in his mind that Rhaenys will side with them in the war. But why does he assume this? What isn't being said is intriguing.

We have Syrax, Caraxes, and Meleys. Your sons have Vermax, Arrax, and Tyraxes. Baela has Moondancer. There are also unclaimed dragons. Seasmoke still resides on Driftmark. Vermithor and Silverwing dwell on the Dragonmont, still riderless. Then there are the three wild dragons, all of whom nest here.

Then, at some point in season two, we see Daemon presumably stop Rhaenys by grabbing her arm.

This man is manipulative and good at it. Rhaenys is not pleased with him touching her. With no context at all, we only have a few words and body language to interpret. I can't wait to see if I'm correct about this when this episode airs. There is a threat or ultimatum here. Daemon's posture is so self-assured, hand resting on Dark Sister as if whatever he is saying has only one response: agreement.

Correct 180 (from trailer):

Might be helpful to cover one while watching the other.

Incorrect 180 (my edit):

What made this 180 rule from the trailer stick in my mind is how tight the frame is on Rhaenys for her reaction shot. A medium shot on Daemon cuts to a medium close up on her in order to show her facial expression. We can't interpret too much from trailer editing as it is specifically designed to manipulate and distract viewers in a different way from the final product. However, we are given Daemon's dialogue for this particular shot: "We are going to King's Landing." But what next? Why show her disdain, frustration, irritation? Is there an "or else" or some other technique to coerce her and House Velaryon?

Rhaenyra's words are relevant here as well as in the foreshadowing of the upcoming war. Daemon is not asking permission. His hostility, animosity, and wounded ego combine to make him rash. Another example of the applicability of the title The Rouge Prince. This isn't an argument that his character is made more complex by this foreshadowing, but that he has rarely, if ever, hidden his motives. His motivations are always clear even if they shift from selfish to selfless (which is only evident a handful of times). He is morally ambiguous to viewers because much of the time he seems to be amoral. He can stomach things that others cannot. He believes the end justifies the means. I think it will be fascinating to see how the showrunners, writers, and Matt can navigate someone becoming a villain without making him completely one dimensional. He is irredeemable and many of his fans love him for precisely that. He doesn't want to be redeemed. He wants to be in control.

I started writing this last night and today this amazing gifset comes across my dash so I had to link it.

#film studies #film studies nerd #house of the dragon #hotd #hotd season 2 #hotd spoilers #hotd s2 #matt smith #eve best #daemon targaryen #rhaenys targaryen #no one asked #forgot my last gif had to come back and add it oops #auntiegifs

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hollowtakami · 6 months

Text

FOR THE GREATER GOOD

CONTENT: heavy angst, hurt w/ no comfort, implied ptsd/anxiety attack, corrupt hpsc, references to child abuse, power imbalance + implied beatings

WORD COUNT: 1130

AUTHOR NOTE: this is a very heavy (vent) fic - please do not read if you know this will trigger you (will be tagging this as nsfw on my masterlist bcs of its content). be safe, remember that you’re loved.

REBLOGS/COMMENTS ARE ALWAYS APPRECIATED :)

Keigo hunched down onto the sofa, his skin finally remembering what its fabric felt like. Sinking into the plushness of the cushions, the avian sighed.

His eyes closed before he could stare at the ceiling. Instead, he’d stare at the abyss inside of him for hours.

He could hear his own breathing. Laboured, short. His chest felt heavy, the blood that circulated his body, nothing more than erroneous liquid.

His wings were made up of a few tattered secondaries and coverts, his primary feathers would need days to recover. His clothes stuck to him like a leech, the glue of his own sweat making his skin crawl.

A vibration in his trouser pocket brought him back to life. Keigo shot up, picking out his phone with a swift hand, his eyes strained by the painful white of the screen’s light.

The smartphone rang in his hand, shaking just like him. Keigo answered and felt himself sweating a little more.

“Hell-“

“Hawks. You’re needed for a last minute patrol.” A gruel voice barked out an order from the other end of the line.

“Madame President,” Keigo swallowed the spite stuck to his tongue, “With all due respect , you did just dismiss me, and I’m sure there are other heroes available to fill in for me!”

He did his best to spoil his voice with sunshine, but was met with nothing but silence.

His fluffy eyebrows furrowed at how loud the emptiness felt, not a single drone of white noise came from the other end.

“Madame-“

“You’re to report to my office immediately, Hawks,”

The call declined and the phone lay dead in his hand. Keigo’s fingers tightened around its frame, threatening to crack - whether the phone or his fingers would crack first, he wasn’t sure.

Tattered feathers sharpened in fear and Keigo’s face fell white. He had exhausted his body all day, fighting back whatever force the world threw at him. From the crack of dawn until the rest of the world fell asleep, he zipped around the city.

All for the greater good, he was always told.

And now, he was being told to report to his superior for - no doubt - a rather harsh scolding.

Peeling his clammy body from the sofa, Keigo made his way to his apartment’s door, leaving behind his jacket that he’d slung over a chair. His boots echoed footsteps and bounced them off the empty walls. Not looking back, not bothering to take in what he could of the only place he wasn’t watched.

They’d have cameras in here by the time he got back, anyway.

Walking down the street, Keigo was met with a black sky. Clouds hid away the beauty of the stars, the moon crying behind their mist. His feet slid across the pavement, too tired to put one in front of the other with the grace of a hero.

Keigo could fly and be there in a moment, but he’d sold his soul for a bit of cheap praise from people he knew couldn’t give a shit about him.

He’d reach the entrance of the HPSC eventually, the skyscraper sticking out of the gum of the ground like an ugly tooth. Greeting the receptionist telling her he’d been called for, he smiled with his teeth and trudged towards the nearest elevator and punched the button that would fly him up to Madame President’s office.

He stood still the whole ride, the eye of a camera burning into the back of his head - probably gawking at the laughable sight of his wings.

So much for the Winged Hero, Keigo thought.

Keigo went on autopilot as he sauntered through the empty floor of office cubicles until he reached the windowless room that was the sanctuary of his superior.

Bracing himself with a silent, short breath, Keigo rapped his knuckle on the door.

“Enter,” a low voice beckoned him forward.

Keigo pulled the door handle and slowly extended his arm inwards, met with the light of the office. The avian closed the door behind him and felt his wings shiver when he heard it auto-lock.

“Sit down, Hawks,” Madame President gestured to a lonely chair in front of her desk, smiling with hidden malice.

Keigo obeyed, lowering himself down and making sure he didn’t slouch.

“You asked for me?” He dared to speak.

“I don’t like attitude, Hawks,” Madame spoke, blunt as ever, “When a handler orders you to do something, you are expected to do it,”

Keigo felt his blood run cold at her words. She didn’t bother to blanket her intentions. He would be lectured, and then sanctioned. For the greater good.

“I understand, Madame,” Keigo squeaked, eyes down like a sheepish puppy.

“Look at me when I’m speaking to you.”

Keigo pinned his eyes to hers and didn’t dare break eye contact for a second. For a moment, he was a child again; a huddle of skin and bones on the floor as his father kicked in his stomach for leaving the house.

“Yes, Madame,” his voice barely scratched its way up his throat.

“For your outlandish behaviour against a handler, I’m sure you’re aware you will need to be sanctioned,” Madame President repeated Keigo’s thoughts.

The avian nodded, the corners of his lips quivering into a meek smile. His feathers ruffled, his heart threatening to burst from his chest.

Keigo felt sick.

For the greater good, his mind barked at him.

The days of his ‘special program’ ran through his mind. That poor boy, he had no idea what kind of machine they were going to turn him into. They were gentle at first, using blanketed words to coax him forward to their goal.

They used to be gentle to that baby bird. When it was time to pick through his pin feathers, they only tore them out.

“Follow me to the rehabilitation hall, Hawks.”

“Yes, Madame President.”

His superior ushered Keigo to the room he remembered all too well, watching him with the eyes in the back of her head.

The walk was quick, Keigo blinked and he was already locked in with the same man he’d known from his boyhood.

“Hawks.” He spat at the avian.

Hawks didn’t say anything. Like a whimpering dog, he inched forward to the man, awaiting his sanction.

The first punch was always the worst.

But, it was for the greater good.

When it was all over, they’d half-ass bandaging him up and covering up his bruises with makeup.

For the greater good, a hero must always look his best.

A hero must always obey his handler, no matter what. That’s what they’d told Keigo Takami when he was a little boy, right before they’d tell him that everything from this point onward;

For the greater good.

#<3 #keigo takami #boku no hero academia #mha hawks #my hero academia hawks #takami keigo #hawks #hawks imagines #hawks angst #hero public safety commission #mha angst #bnha angst #hawks my hero academia #heavy angst #keigo takami imagine #keigo takami headcanons #hawks headcanons #hawks mha #angst

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ihavenoideawhatiamdoingjustgay2 · 7 days

Note

PLEAASE WRITE A TENNANT REVERSE:1999 FICC THERES BARELY ANY

Touching you Between the Thorns

Notes : You were shot lol, not my best work but I had no more time to edit bc im being buried in homework, accidentally posted it when the post was unfinished, ik I said no smut but I would rate this E on AO3, first smut-ish thing I'm posting, Alexa play : More than a friend by girli, thx for the ask :D

Sypnoses : She was the first you could turn to. The closest. Who were you to refuse?

Words : To be added.

You lean against the brick wall, your head hitting it with a loud thud, it shortly distracted from the pain in your side, the blood gushing out in liters and galoons. If you`d look down, it would almost look beautifull, shining in the ligth. But it only hurt as of now. You took a sharp breath, going on to lean against the wall, using everything what was left of the earlier adrenaline. It is actually a suprise that you have made it so far withougth any medical attention. Must have something to do with your Arcanist mother. You cough. You would only need her to take the bullet out, nothing more. You would not stay for anything more. You took a sharp breath, continuesly pressing into the wound while your other hand was leading you towards a small alley, that led into a small square where there was only one house that had its ligth and music on. You went up to her door with your last strength left, lifting your fist against the door, and hammering it down as strong as you were able to. You leaned against the stone frame, trying not to crumble.

The music was turned of and the ligth turned on, shinning into your face. You listened to every footstep she took, they were so casual, she probably wasn`t expecting you to ruin her nigth. Or that you had known where she lived. Her shillouette was painted against the door untill the door clicked open with a broken sound, revealing her. The emotions on her face changed visibly, going from confusion to a teasing smirk in seconds.

„Good evening.“ you greet, as if you were her to ask if she had some damn salt or butter left.

She leaned against the frame, speaking in her low, sultry and sarcastic voice. „I wonder, what does lead an honorable officer like you into this part of the city?“

You grit your teeth, resisting the urge to shout at her how you were bleeding out and how you would appreciate this another time. But your vision blurred and it felt as if you could slip on your own blood. „I wouldn`t know, can I come in?“

She grinned, before looking back to the wound and swallowing whatever teasing words she wanted to say, instead she decided to help you in and you sit down on a long green couch instead. You switch to lying down while she pulls a smaller sofa closer. You really had the sligth feeling that she would be able to help you, she was still wearing that gun at her side. You grit your teeth when she pulls your hand away, exposing the fleshy wound. She looked concerned, her smirk gone and her eyebrows knitting together, thus her open hair. It made her seem older, in a way, or maybe you just haven`t seen her for to long.

„Wait here.“ she says, putting your hand back. She walked into the kitchen, opening cabinets, getting whatever she needed probably. You try to shift, look behind you, but are only meet with pain, so you stop, deciding to lay still like the corpse you migth become if that woman won`t come back soon. You look down, only realizing now how ruined your shirt was. It would probably be better to take it off anyway. She would probably ask you to take it off. You asked yourself which one of those you`d rather have, but she had already decided for you.

„Do take the shirt off.“ Ada said, standing behind you already.

You grab at the ends, roughly tugging untill she came to help you, her skilled hands just had the damn thing slip over your head as if it was made out of butter. She folded it, then put it on the small table, over a radio. You then watched the woman cross her legs as she dissenfects the tools carefully. To think she was doing this for `free`, she, odd wasn`t it? The woman that scammed other ladys, pulling the money out of their pockets. Your brows knit together, maybe she had something going on rigth now? You look back at Ada, the open hair, the half buttoned shirt. „So have you been up to something?“ you ask as casual as you can. „I did hear music, could I have interupted something perchance?“

She scoffed, freeing her hands to take one of yours, bring it to her lips. „You have been the only one on my mind, my rose.“

You pull your hand away. „I feel faint, you better get those hands to work so I won`t bleed out on your couch.“

She grinned, looking up at you, before taking the tweezers. „You have always been smart.“ her hands go to asses the wound with some tweezers, no warning, which makes you hiss and squirm away, but she holds you down as if you are only a leaf. „If you want me to do this, you will have to stay still, do you think you can do that?“

You hiss, staying still. If you wanted to heal yourself, you would need it out. Thank heavens above that Arcanists and half arcanists couldn`t die that easily. You feel her take a grip of it. „Less deep than the blood makes it out to be.“

„Still hurts like a bitch.“ you swear, shaking from the pain. „Why did you not give me alcohol?“

She chuckles and the bullet clatters onto the little plate she brougth. „There we go.“

You sigh, feeling the wound slowly close under your skill, it did not even leave a scar. „Thanks. I will have to go now.“ you go to stand up, but she is quick to be in your way, a fake pout on her face.

„What? Not even a thank you? I am insulted, my rose.“

You roll your eyes. „Thanks.“

„There we go.“ she pushes you back to the couch. „It is late and we have not seen eachother in so long, it would be a shame to not use this opportunity.“

You look outside. It was indeed dark...and they migth have followed you. But you could handle them.

„You have also been shot, I am worried about you, friend.“ something goes weak inside you then, her words, accentuated with her hand, putting some hair behind your ear.

„Alrigth then.“ you sit back down.

„Perfect.“ she goes back into the kitchen. „Do you still like your tea like back then?“

„My taste in it never did change.“ you sit back, relax. Your shirt would do no more, maybe that is why she would not let you go either. You were half naked. You could ask her for something later, it wasn`t as if she hasn`t seen you like this already. You take the fireplace in, in front of you, the shelves. It was all neat, trophies of travels, paintings, not half bad.

„I hope you don`t mind me putting some wine in this.“ she said, holding two cups as she approached you, handing it to you.

You snickered, stiring the dark fluid within. „I did always like to drink with you. Remember when I had my first one?“

She chuckled, her hand brushing your hair away, touching your face. You had the urge to lean in, imerse yourself in her hands, lips, whatever she`d give you. „You were so very cute, still are.“ her eyes seemed a bit distant, untill they sharpened with a grin on her face. „I have always had a weakness for your red cheeks, your babbling, the way you clung to me.“ she lets her fingers stroke it then, gently, she continues as you make no sign of dislike. Ada sighs. „It really has been long.“ she says in a breath.

„I missed you.“ the thougth that had lingered in you slips out like butter. And it changes something behind her eyes, her smile falters and she looks as if she has fallen into deep thougth, but only for a second, then she pulls back, sitting down in the brown chair opposite from yours, with an all to familiar expression. You follow her movements, even after, as she picks up her cup, but now she holds your gaze, looking at you through those slit pupils. Your cue to look away, drink from your own cup, have her chuckle at you. It was still warm, of course, and it was sweet, with only a hint of bitterness suggested by the alcohol. You were very sure that she could have completely covered it up though. You bite your lip, remembering when she did it the last time, where you have only taken a sip of it... „What if something more will happen?“ you look down, the dark brew mirroring your reflection.

„Hasn`t it happend before?“ you could hear her cocky grin, her dimples. How insufferable. How...attractive. You blushed, sinking down into your chair, sipping at your cup. She laughs, gently, you feel her leg brushing yours and realize how close she actually is. You could touch her.

„So...what have you been up to lately?“

She humms. „Haven`t you heard of my newest scam yet?“ she nudges your knee.

„I did. Your biggest one yet.“ you look around. „It is no wonder you hide here.“

„And I plan for bigger ones to come, but what about you?“ she crocks her head. „And while we are at it, you are the only one who knows my location, rigth?“ there was a sligth danger there, inside of her, but you knew it was only the fear of getting caugth. Getting exposed. How long has it been since she has seen her father the last time?

„Of course, what are you thinking of me?“ You snicker, enjoying some more of your tea, which was nearly emtpy now. You were left with a warm feeling in your cheeks. You saw her lips move, but had already forgotten what you had just asked. She explained it again, you acted as if you understood, staring at the fireplace flickering behind her. It reminded you of that one time, that other fireplace, you on your knees on some expensive couch, with Ada grinding her hips against yours, her hot breath on you, her hand already coated in your slick, playing with your clit. You downed the last bit of tea, crossing your legs., refusing the fire in your stomach.

„Finished already?“

You look at her outstretched hand ,your fingers linger a bit to long on hers as you give it to her. „It was good.“ your mouth was dry. „Like always.“

She put it to her side. „But as I was saying, how did you find me?“

You took a deep sigh, trying to conceal your desire„It was a coincidence, I was just getting back from some...business and saw you walk by. Funny, really.“

She looked away, then back at you, you couldn`t read her expression and were instead fixated on a loose strand. You interupted her talking, leaning over to adjust it, looking into her hellish eyes that were observing your every move, it made you feel naked, she saw rigth through you from the moment you appeared at her front step. You tried to brush some more hair away, but it only fell back.

Ada pulled you in closer by the waist, making you sit on her lap. „Someone is getting comfortable.“ she grinned, stroking your hot cheek. You lean into it.

„There we go,“ she praised „there is that blush.“ her other hand is tracing your spine meanwhile. Your naked spine, up to your brah clip. She circles around the place, her eyes drowsy, but hungry, yet she waited.

„Tennant.“ you whisper, hands on her shoulders.

„My Rose?“ she crocked her head at you, fauxing innocence.

All of your vocabulary leaves your mind. Your mouth is dry, so you lean down. „Yes.“

She grins, dimples showing. „What yes?“

You think, trying to find your words, but its hard when she is staring rigth at you while her fingers are teasing the space around your brah clip. „You know me...please touch me Ada.“

A genuine smile appears on her lips. She leans in to whisper into your ear. „Who am I to deny such a request from my Rose?“ A shiver runs down your spine. Her voice always did have this hoarseness to it. And you have always had a weakness for it. She kisses you, you return it, though it is more sloopy. How long has it been? She parts from you, leaning back, drinking the rest of her tea, not taking her eyes of off you the whole time. „We should take this upstairs.“ she side eyes the statues. „They creep me out.“

„The walls seem thin.“

„Did you ever really care?“

Well, the neighboors sleep would be ruined. You got off of her, took her hand and jogged up, with only a few inbetween breaks of kisses and some spare hickeys on your neck, around your collarbone. Her name left your mouth in prayers already. It did not take much for her, now did it? When you were struggling to open the door inbetween kisses, her shirt had already been unbottoned, exposing her bare chest. It wasn`t easy to focus with these factors in your mind, or her warm toung in your mouth. So she took this job from your hand, turning the knob and making you stumble back, but she catched you with a grin, of course. „It appears that you have fallen for me.“

You can not stop yourself from laughing, still giggling as she pulls you to bed, pushes you down. But she herself is grinning, even as she kisses you again, finally uncliping your brah. You sigh, taking it off with her help. She swiftly presses her lips on your jawline, leading them down your throath, more down until she closes her mouth around the hardened bud. Your body presses into her and a breathy moan escapes you. „Ada...“

Apperantly she likes your answer, her one hand travels towards your other breast, gently squezzing. You were sure that your underwear was ruined by now, just judging by that feeling in your stomach.

She takes your attention back as her lips continue to go lower, as she takes your pants off. You grin. She bites her lip at your wetness, before kissing your thigh to look back at you Yeah, you`d have a long nigth ahead of you.

***

Ada looked upon your sleeping form, the first rays of sunligth were scatered on you, your soft eyelashes, your naked body, bearing her marks. She crossed her legs, a proud grin on her face. She did usually avoid leaving traces, dissapearing to be never found again. But with you it didn`t work, and she ougth herself stupid for expecting it too. Considering your shared history. You`d always come to find her, and she would always leave traces. She leans down, kissing your forehead, asking herself if she would stay when you asked., as she stood up to leave. The idea scared her.

Untill there was a hand grabing at her wrist. When she turned, your angry eyes were looking between her and a letter on the nigthstand.“You are not leaving me to pay the rent again, are you?“

Ada grinned, holding the look in your eyes with no problem. „Oh. You know, I have always loved you for your brain, my rose.“ Your face changed from anger to shock in a matter of seconds, and with that shock came a loose hand. She took the oppurtunity, walking towards the door with a „I will see you soon, my rose~“

„Ada Tennant, you will come back into this room and face me now-“ she heard you shout as she jumped down the stairs, escaping something you threw at her, which she recognized upon further inspection as her hat. She threw a quick „Thanks“ at you before jumping down the stairs to escape your wrath.

#tennant x you #tennant reverse 1999 #reverse 1999 tennant #tennant x reader #ada tennant #tennant #reverse 1999 x reader #reverse 1999 tennant x reader

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