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darthannie · 1 year

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thursday night out

2.1k / neil lewis x f!reader

Pairing: Neil Lewis x f!reader Summary: Neil can't sleep and neither can you. A late night conversation leads to revelations. Warnings: 18+, minors dni. fluff, no use of y/n, friends to lovers, hurt/comfort if you squint really hard, Neil cries because of course a/n: I'm a lil rusty y'all but I had to take matters into my own hands.

You were absolutely restless in bed. You had come home from the bar your friend Jonathan worked at, Balanza, after needing some liquid comfort and a close friend. He was one of four. Your little group was all you needed, but more recently it was feeling like three. You, Neil, Lucien, and Jonathan were basically inseparable as you all emerged into adulthood together.

Now, you all found a little bit of community at Gumshoe Video, your and Neil’s video store. It wasn’t much but it was what you and Neil cared about the most. It was your baby, so to speak. Yet another thing that kept you and Neil stuck to each other’s sides.

Neil was special. He had gone through it all with you. When you were in high school together you both skipped school dances and watched movies all night long while getting drunk on whatever was close by. You had comforted each other through numerous breakups, spent many long nights taking care of each other when the other was sick, and now ran a video store together. Growing up, your parents would make jokes about how you would end up together. Neil thought that was the funniest thing ever. “What a cliche.”, Neil would say. You would always laugh and agree but deep down, there was a piece of you that resented his indifference. It was only natural that you both felt something for each other, right? Neil was your rock and you were his.

But nevertheless, Neil was seeing someone. At least you thought he was. It wasn’t totally clear what was going on, but you knew when he wasn’t at the video store he was running around with her. That left you, Lucien, and Jonathan to hold down the fort. This always happened when Neil got involved with a girl and it always left you feeling… odd. You never wanted to admit it but you had been in love with him for years. Brushing off that feeling was the only way you could disconnect.

This constant yearning was exhausting but you just wanted to see Neil happy. Only now, you couldn’t tell if he was happy. He had been a bit secretive about the girl he was seeing. If you knew Neil, he was in over his head. Whenever you saw him at the shop he seemed drained and a bit stressed, but he never stayed long. He’d say, “I’m gonna go in about an hour. We’re getting dinner tonight, I think?” I think, was the key phrase. His remarks were rooted in confusion. Maybe his status with this mystery girl wasn’t so solid. You had hoped, for his sake, something good would come out of this. You couldn’t bear to see him hurt again.

After some overthinking, you were finally getting a bit drowsy. Right as you were about to drift off your ringtone shocked you awake. You answered it before you could check the name and heard a familiar voice on the other line. “Hey”, Neil said. “Can I come over? I can’t sleep” The clock on your nightstand read 1:34 AM. “Yeah sure what’s u-“

He hung top on you and within a couple of seconds, there was a knock at the door.

You scurried out of bed and headed towards the door. You weren’t prepared for what met you on the other side of the door. It was Neil, of course, but he looked sad. His eyes were puffy and red. He looked like he had been crying for hours. He looked exhausted. It took you a second before you realized you had been staring. You moved to the side and silently gestured for him to come in.

He went right past you and towards the couch, face-planting into the cushions. He groaned and you stood over him for a moment before squatting down to his level. “Neil?” You heard a sniffle come from him and he turned to face you. Even now, he was just as gorgeous as every other time you saw him. Handsome in a classic sense. You fought every urge not to brush the hair away from his eyes but eventually, you gave in. You reached out and he closed his eyes after feeling your touch. “Neil, what’s going on?”

“Jonathan and I got into a fight. Well, not like a fight fight. We just argued a bit and I got pissed and left.”

You removed your hand from his face. That was the last thing you expected to hear. There was never any conflict in your friend group that went beyond friendly film debates, but you were waiting for the shoe to drop. You had spent your time at Balanza tonight blabbing to Jonathan about how annoying It was that Neil was never around whenever he started seeing someone. He pushed you about it you admitted it was because you had liked him for years. Jonathan laughed “Well no duh! I could smell that shit from a mile away. You guys already treat each other like you’re married.” And he was right. There were things you and Neil did that felt like you were married. Apart from movie nights, you had spent time cooking dinner for each other, taken a couple of trips together, and confided in each other about everything. Your bond was unbreakable.

You were thinking about what to say when Neil interrupted your fractured thought process.

“I was at Balanza tonight, thought I’d go in for a quick drink, you know? And I got to talkin’ with Jonathan and he mentioned how you had been there a bit before me and how I’d just missed you. I thought was weird because you always told me if you were going so we could go together. Plus you’d told me you were going straight home after closing up the store. But anyway, he started joking about you and me. I mean, what the fuck right?”

You briefly paused before responding, “What did he say about us exactly?”

Neil sat up before he began his story, gesturing as he began, “He made a quip asking where my ball and chain was and I said “What ball and chain?” and he said you. It kinda took me aback. And really annoyed me because you would never be a ball and chain, you know. And somehow he started going on about how I should maybe be a better friend.” Your heart sank. He continued, “He said I should be more “mindful” about our relationship and I thought what the fuck, you know. I know he doesn’t really have a way with words but, god, how cryptic. Who says that? Especially about us. We’re close, right? Super close! No one really gets it!” Subconsciously or not he now had your hand in his.

“Our friendship is special you know. It means the world to me and to have that questioned made me a bit upset. Then it really got me thinking. Have I not been paying attention to you lately? Then, I started thinking about all the things I’ve been doing recently. Spending time with you know who, which by the way isn’t happening anymore.”

In all honestly, you didn’t really know who. You’d only seen her a couple of times. You interrupted him, asking what he meant.

“I broke things off with her. She was, frankly, insane, and as fun as it was it was just that. Fun. Unsustainable. Unstable. Plus, I was barely meeting up with the group. Fewer movie nights. Less time at the store. Less time together. And I thought, fuck maybe I have been a shit friend. And now that I don’t have her in my life I feel like I can actually see clearly.”

He finally took a pause and looked you in the eyes. You were stunned. Neil was always a talker but it was rare he got this candid about his relationships. When you were younger, he’d tell you almost everything, but now he rarely ever spoke about his escapades and you were grateful for it. Just when you thought it was over, he continued.

“So, I was so fed up with Jonathan I didn’t even finish my beer. I just left. I got home and tried everything to shake the guilty feeling off of me but nothing worked. I did a- a cold shower and even made some tea. I tried to watch City Lights, but I couldn’t.”

That was your and Neil’s favorite film. You had watched it the first time when you stayed home from junior prom. You both started off by doing voices for the characters and by the end you were both touched by the film. Ever since then, that was the film you both watched when you couldn’t think of anything better for movie night. It became a ritual that wordlessly brought you closer.

“I got really restless and upset. So, I thought I would just call you.” He broke eye contact for a moment, and you could’ve sworn he looked at your lips before making eye contact again.

Your voice was light, “But you got here before you called.”

He shrugged, “I just got in the car and started driving.”

You chuckled at his response. “Well you know you’re always welcome.” He smiled at you before he let it falter. He seemed to hesitate before he continued talking. The shoe was about to drop.

“ I, ah. There was something I left out of the story.”

You swallowed before asking, “What?”

“Jonathan told me about… you and… Probably not everything but he told me.” It dropped.

There was a moment of silence as the tension between the two of you grew. Your world was crashing down. You’d have a word with Jonathan soon, call him a jackass for betraying your trust. You wanted to speak and deny everything, but nothing came out.

He spoke first. “How long?”

Without hesitation, you replied “Years.”

He sat back and ran his fingers through his hair. He muttered what you thought was fuck under his breath, but you preferred not to listen. All you could feel was the pain in your chest as you prepared to have your heart broken. Tears started to fall before you could stop them and a small whimper left you. He wiped your tears away and leaned forward again. You were now sitting on the ground as he sat over you on the couch. Neil felt a couple tears of his own begin to fall. You both sat for a moment. His silence made it hurt even more. You were ready for his rejection to slap you in the face. The sting would last long after, you thought. You heard him speak up softly, “So you… you feel it too?”

You hesitated, “Feel what exactly?”

He laughed at himself and clarified, “You know this, um, tugging feeling in your heart when it feels like it’s trying to tell you something.”

You avoided his gaze, “Yeah.”

You looked down at your hands. Your fingers were now interlaced with his. Space had closed between the two of you and it was getting hard to breathe. Your heart raced and you swore his did too. He brought his free hand to your face, resting it on your cheek. You looked down at it, foreign on your skin. You looked back at him and searched his face for any sign that this was some sick joke. All you found was sincerity. He was willing and ready to risk years of friendship on the off chance that you felt the same as he did. He unraveled his hand from yours and placed it softly on your neck as he pulled you in, careful not to make any sudden movements.

The kiss was soft, at first. As it deepened you placed your hand on his chest, not to push him away, but to feel if his heart was beating as fast as yours. It soon became breathless, both of you refusing to break for air. Your fingers ended up in his hair. You felt his tongue on your bottom lip. He was testing you and you gave in. It was feverish. You both moved in sync until, finally, you both pulled away to get some air. The room was spinning. You were kneeling after he had pulled you up. He pulled you up further and sat you down on the couch. He pulled you close to him and just held you, hoping to feel as close as possible to you. You both felt like you’d just won the lottery. He traced your arm with his fingers. You looked up at him and he was already looking at you. You slowly broke out into a smile and he did too. Soon enough you were both giggling and chuckling. It was pure bliss. He leaned in to give you another kiss. There was no testing the waters this time. He pulled away and looked into your eyes.

“What took us so long?”, he sighed.

You whispered back, ”I don’t know.”

#neil lewis x reader #neil lewis smut #neil lewis fluff #watching the detectives fanfic #neil lewis x you #i proofread this but no one is perfect #first fic in so long ahhhhh #cillian murphy x reader #neil lewis x f!reader #annie writes

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robotic-maid · 1 year

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Long post stupid ramblings about my own grief sorry idk how to add a read more.

Tw: brief mentions of suicide, self harm, mental illness, sexual trauma and substance abuse (woah holy shit that’s a lot)

…..

Mornings are really rough for me, the passage of time itself scares me in a way I can’t always put into words. Every morning I wake up and it feels like the morning after something sad and painful just happened. Because of my ptsd I have reoccurring nightmares, and in these dreams I relive some of the most painful things I’ve gone through. Sometimes it’s the night I was attacked and chased into a closet, sometimes it’s my 18th birthday when I no longer could stomach anyone else seeing my body, sometimes it’s the morning after I was discharged from the hospital after failing to take my life again, and sometimes it’s the morning after I’ve lost someone I loved, either because they died; or because they hated the person I was becoming.I don’t know how long ago these events in my life really happened.

Even events with solid dates, feel like they were yesterday. When I was younger I would wake up in the middle of the night screaming. So alone in my grief all I could do is curl up in a little ball. As I got older I found it was easier to sleep if I took whatever I could get my hands on. And I got my hands on harder stuff after I became disabled. This period in my life feels like static. I was happy I think, but my brain didn’t process anything at all. Like I was stuck in time where days didn’t have a beginning or end. Getting therapy was so difficult, I had to do everything myself, and with family who denied what happened to me, or blamed me for it.. it was hard.

I moved out, I got therapy, I got in an accident on my bike after a fight with some friends on my way home, I got swerved and I wasn’t wearing a helmet. I suffered head trauma for the 3rd time in my life and I got amnesia for the past two years. I didn’t know where I was, who my friends were, how to do my job. And I felt better. I felt relieved and happy to be able to start over. I would get flashes of fear, and pain, and sadness, but they felt like scenes in a movie I couldn’t remember the title to. I worked through these things with my therapist and I was finally able to get medication for my multitude of issues. I was so happy I cried.

Regular therapy and antidepressants and exercise and living away from people that hurt me helped me even out. Outwardly I “healed” from everything. I thank the car accident for lessening my burdains, even though it makes me feel like a stranger in my own home, in my own body. I finished up my 2 years of therapy and now I only go in for an evaluation of how I’m coming along. I can look normally for the most part, my hands have healed up that I can draw semi-regularly, and my addictions have subsided I don’t hurt myself anymore. I still get nightmares, but they will never really stop, I don’t wake up crying or anything.I’ve made peace with the things I’ve destroyed, and I’ve forgiven the people that broke me. But recovery is not a straight road. It’s going to get worse again, and I’ll have to be alone when it happens. Maybe that’s why I’m still scared of waking up every day… because I’m always bracing for something to happen to reset my progress and push me back 10 steps. I guess that’s the price I pay.

#hex.txt #the fact I’m putting this out here you just know I haven’t taken my meds /he #also sorry if this feels like trauma dumping #no one actually has to read this #but I wanted to type it all out without feeling like I was forcing anyone to comfort me

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teconkaals · 11 months

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Walking With A Ghost 12

"I think I need a new tattoo." "Oh, really?" Johnny raised his head to look at him. "I've been thinking about it for a while and I think it's the right time." "Sounds good," he shifted his position so he could see him better. "Where were you thinking of doing it?" Simon moved his right arm and showed Johnny the inside of the wrist. "Would you design something for me?"

Another chapter in which Ghost and Soap get soft.

AO3 Chapter link: Chapter 12 - Routine

Fanfic Masterlist: Here

Next Chapter: Chapter 13 - Roadtrip

Previous Chapter: Chapter 11 - Rest

Wordcount: 5533

Rating: Mature

Tags of the fanfic (some of them): hurt/comfort, taking care of each other, blood and violence, happy ending, non explicit sex

A/N: Hope you're well! Thanks for reading, it means a lot 💚

I don’t give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform (I’m publishing on my Ao3 account both English and Spanish).

SIMON “GHOST” RILEY - 141 ROUTINE SOAP’S HOUSE, HEREFORD, UK DECEMBER 4, 2022, 14:45

Simon woke up with a start and fumbled for the knife he always had under his pillow. He felt naked not finding it, however, he relaxed when he remembered he was at Soap's house. Ghost took a deep breath and shifted a little on the bed, realizing that the space next to him was empty.

"Johnny?" he asked warily.

"Sorry, didn't mean to wake you," he replied.

Simon frowned and sat up, groping in the dark until he found him. Soap was sitting on the bed, with his knees slightly bent, and Simon put a hand on his shoulder, sliding it down his back in a comforting gesture.

"All good?"

"Yeah. I was just going to drink some water, that's all."

He stood up and Ghost heard him walk to the bathroom; squinting as Johnny turned on the light and waited for him to return. When time seemed to drag on too long, Simon stood up and moved toward the closed door, gently knocking it a few times, waiting for a response.

"Johnny, you solid?" he asked when he didn’t answer.

"Yeah, don't worry. Physiological needs, you know," he chuckled. "Go back to bed."

However, Simon knew him too well to know that the laugh was fake. He opened the door and found Soap sitting on the floor, between the shower and the toilet, with his head leaning on the wall and his legs stretched out. Johnny looked at him for a moment before looking away and Simon hurried over to him. He crouched down, ignoring the tug of the stitches, and cupped his face in his hands, frowning when he saw that he was crying.

"Come here," Simon whispered and pulled him into a hug.

Johnny let himself go and rested his head on Ghost’s chest, wrapping his arms around his back. Simon kissed him on the hair and hugged him tightly when he noticed he was crying again. He felt his chest break at seeing Soap like that and felt helpless as he couldn't do anything but whisper to him to let it all out, that he wasn't alone. In that moment, he wondered how Johnny did it, how he knew what to say and what to do at all times, and Simon wished he could be a little more like him in that way so he could help him with the nightmares in the same way Johnny did with him.

"Thanks," Soap whispered suddenly, voice strangled and broken.

Simon kissed him on the temple and rubbed his back.

"Whenever you need me, you know," he paused. "Come on, I'll make you something hot."

Simon helped Soap up and guided him to the kitchen. He sat him in a chair and disappeared for a moment to grab a pair of sweatshirts. Johnny stared blankly as he dressed him and Simon frowned a little, worried. Finally sighed and faced the kitchen, opening the cabinets until he located what he was looking for. When the milk was hot, he poured in the chocolate and filled two mugs with it. He put one in front of Johnny and sat next to him.

"Want to talk about it?" he whispered kindly.

"Actually, I don't need to," Soap replied, looking at the table. "I mean… these are stressful situations, it's normal in our work."

Simon then understood what Johnny had dreamed about. He’d always thought that Soap had had some near-death experience, that his discomfort during the events of Chicago, and Las Almas, was due to feeling useless and overwhelmed by the situation. Apparently, he had made a mistake and scolded himself for not taking it into account.

"It's the first time that's happened to you, right?"

Johnny looked up and stared blankly at him.

"Being aware of how close you've come to dying," Soap nodded and Simon continued talking. "It's… a strange feeling. As if you've spent a wild card. Something that life will come to recover," he smiled. "Luckily, it doesn't work that way. You survived through a mix of skill and luck. Two things that are part of life and that we cannot separate from it."

Johnny looked at him and smiled kindly.

"I already knew that," he fixed his gaze on the table again. "I haven't dreamed about that."

Simon frowned. Now he was the one who didn't understand what was happening. If Soap hadn't had a nightmare about what happened during the search for Hassan, what had disturbed his sleep?

"So... with what?"

Soap was silent for a few moments.

"The gulag," he whispered. "I thought I would lose you, that you would die in my arms before the medevac came," Johnny said with a tired half smile. "Actually, I just needed to let go of the anxiety, and fear, that I've been building up since then. I haven't been able to until now," he looked at him and his smile widened. "I'm sorry I worried you."

Simon didn't answer. He still felt guilty for having caused that upset to Johnny, but he didn’t verbalize it because he remembered Amelia's words: he hadn’t been reckless, he hadn’t done anything wrong. On the other hand, knowing that it was so important to Soap to the point of having nightmares excited and terrified him in equal measure.

He didn't have the energy to deal with it, so he pushed it aside.

"How do you do it?" Simon asked her instead.

"With what?" Johnny frowned before raising his eyebrows in understanding. "Take out the anxiety? Well, I start crying. I guess?"

"No, not to let things get stuck."

Johnny shrugged and focused on the cup, wrapping his hands around it for warmth.

"I really don't know. There are... things that are beyond our control, things that we can't change no matter how hard we try, so I don't see the point in feeling bad because I can't do anything about it. If it has a solution, it’ll be fixed. Otherwise, why am I going to think about it? I’m not going to wallow in misery if I have made a mistake; I will learn from it and move on. Even when people die. I try to be better, think through decisions," he sighed. "It's... difficult, but not impossible. It also helps to get it out, talking about it with the people you know will listen to you."

Simon listened in silence and didn’t respond immediately. He valued Soap’s words and knew that, deep down, he was right. It was something as simple as that: learn from your mistakes so as not to repeat them again and talk about what makes you feel bad.

Talk to people who will listen to you.

"You do it? Verbalize what's troubling you, I mean."

"Sure," Johnny responded with a soft laugh. "I talk a lot with my sister Alex."

Simon nodded and focused his attention on the cup of chocolate in front of him. He looked up when he felt Soap's hand on his, stroking it gently before tangling his fingers with his.

"You know you can tell me whatever you want and whatever you need," he added in a whisper. "I'll listen to you when you're ready to talk."

Ghost took Soap's hand in his and brought it to his lips to kiss Soap's knuckles.

"I know. It's just..." he sighed.

"You need time, I'm aware," Johnny rested his hand on Simon’s cheek and stroked his cheekbone with his thumb. "Don't be in a rush, although it may not seem like it, I am a patient person" he added with a soft laugh.

Simon blushed a little and Johnny sat up to kiss him on the lips. Then he glanced at the two cups still on the table, untouched.

"Did you make me hot chocolate?" he asked in a mocking tone.

"I thought it would help you feel better."

Johnny smiled and drank some. He frowned, surprised.

"Oi, it's really good! What did you add to it?"

"Vanilla," Simon replied, drinking from his cup.

Soap laughed.

"You don't have to drink it for me, I know you don't like sweet things."

Simon rolled his eyes.

"I like sweet things, but too much of them saturates me. I like ice cream, chocolate, cakes... you..." he added with a half smile.

Johnny choked and Simon sat up straight, worried, although he relaxed when he heard him laugh.

"Do you consider me a sweet person?" he asked with a raspy voice. "I think this is the first time someone has told me that. Well, my mother does, but she doesn't count."

Ghost drank again from his cup and took his time responding.

"You're a sweet person when you want to be. Besides," he smiled slyly, "with the amount of sugar you ingest throughout the day, I'm sure there's more glucose than oxygen running through your veins."

Soap laughed and moved his chair to sit next to him; leaning on Simon’s thigh and resting his head on his chest. Simon put his free arm around his shoulders, enjoying his presence. Johnny moved his head to gently kiss him on the chin and Simon returned the gesture with a kiss on the cheek. They drank the chocolate quietly, enjoying each other's silent company, until Simon spoke.

"I think I need a new tattoo."

"Oh, really?" Johnny raised his head to look at him.

"I've been thinking about it for a while and I think it's the right time."

"Sounds good," he shifted his position so he could see him better. "Where were you thinking of doing it?"

Simon moved his right arm and showed Johnny the inside of the wrist.

"Would you design something for me?"

Johnny opened his mouth and eyes, surprised.

"You... want me to..." he sighed. "You're sure?"

"Of course, why not?" He shrugged. "I like your style and I wouldn't mind wearing something of yours drawn on my skin."

Simon noticed Johnny blush and couldn't help but crack a half smile.

"Well... do you have something on your mind?" Soap whispered, looking down.

"Actually, no. I leave it to your choice."

"What? Simon, you can't let people choose something you'll wear on your skin for a lifetime," he laughed.

Ghost finished the chocolate in one gulp, unfazed.

"I tattoo the things I like," he replied. "I don't need them to make sense together and I know I'll like what you design."

"The things you like?" he repeated and raised Simon's left arm a little. "In that case, I’ve some questions about this."

Ghost looked at it and noticed that several memories were rushing to come out of the drawer where they were kept. He shoved them away and sighed.

"Let's just say that my adolescence wasn't the best."

He knew Johnny understood when he saw his expression.

"Okay, I'll think of something."

"Thank you," Ghost paused before continuing speaking. "How do you feel?"

"Much better," Johnny smiled. "Nothing that a shot of sugar won't fix."

Soap laughed and Simon smiled. He stood up, removed the cups, and scrubbed them in a moment. He then approached Johnny and kissed him on the forehead.

"Good, because it's time to go back to bed."

Soap's smile widened and he cocked his head.

"Say it again."

"Mmh?" He frowned, confused. "It’s time to go back to bed?"

“Yes, I like the way that sounded," he whispered.

Simon smiled slyly and leaned down to speak in Soap’s ear.

"Let's go back to bed," he whispered.

Johnny chuckled, shivering, and moved to bite his earlobe. Simon sighed.

"That voice of yours is going to kill me," he whispered while kissing him on the neck.

"Just my voice?" he asked, mockingly.

Soap rose to kiss him and rested his hands on Simon’s hips. Ghost put his arms around his waist, kissing Johnny back.

"You know you drive me crazy," he whispered against his lips.

"Good, because I think it's my turn to make you feel better."

Simon moved his hand towards Soap's pants and Johnny clung to him, grunting as soon as he reached into his underwear. Soap laughed and followed him into the bedroom and Simon undressed him, laying on top of him. He kissed Johnny and descended while leaving a trail of kisses all over his body. Soap arched, whispering a moan, and Simon smiled.

Johnny sighed and touched his shoulder gently.

"Don't push yourself too hard, okay?"

Simon looked up and frowned a little.

"I wouldn't want to have to explain to Emma that your wound opened by giving me a blowjob."

Ghost had a fit of laughter and had to sit up in bed. He held his belly and leaned back a little, groaning in pain as he felt the tug of the stitches. As it passed, Simon turned to Johnny and saw that he had sat down next to him, with his legs crossed and his arms over them. He was smiling with that smile of affection he only dedicated to him.

"Sorry, I…"

"What did you say? Did you say ‘sorry’?" Soap interrupted. "Don't even think about apologizing."

"I've ruined the moment."

"You haven't. On the contrary," Soap approached him and caressed his cheek. "Seeing you laugh like that is the best gift I could have."

Simon blushed and Johnny smiled a little more. He moved to retrieve his clothes and began to get dressed. Ghost frowned a little.

"You don’t want me to…?"

"Nah, I'm fine," Soap replied, putting on his shirt and moving a little closer to sitting astride him.. "I told you, hearing your laugh was so much better."

"I don't think it's that big of a deal," Simon muttered self-consciously.

Johnny kissed him on the lips and put one of his arms around his neck while, with his other hand, caressed the corner of Simon’s mouth, right on the side where he had the scar.

"It may not be for you," he whispered, "but I will treasure that memory."

Simon looked down and nodded. He placed his hands on Soap’s waist and rested his head on his neck. Ghost took a deep breath as Johnny began to stroke his hair.

"You know?" Johnny whispered in his ear.

Even though he couldn't see it, Simon could perceive that loving smile curling her lips.

"What?"

"You are also a very sweet person."

Simon pulled away abruptly and looked Johnny in the eyes. He returned a surprised look that quickly changed to a friendly one.

"I'm not sweet and you know it."

"Well, I just stated it," he laughed. "You don't perceive yourself that way, I know. You think you're a killing machine without feelings, but it's not true. Remember what I told you: you're like a crab, hard on the outside and soft on the inside," he stroked his cheek again. "And yeah, you could kill a person in a thousand ways but... when you are with me you are sweet and kind. None of my previous partners have treated me as lovingly as you."

Simon forced himself to swallow through the lump in his throat and looked at Johnny carefully, taking advantage of the fact that his attention was focused on one of the scars that he had on his chest. Simon saw melancholy in Soap’s eyes. How could it be that someone with as good a heart, as kind as Johnny, hadn’t been treated with affection? No matter how much he tried to understand it, the reason escaped him. Anyone should be grateful to be able to be with Johnny in the same way he was; in fact, Simon felt very lucky about it and was convinced that he had spent all the luck he had left in life.

"I'm sorry," Simon whispered as he hugged Soap.

Johnny took half a second to react and hugged him back.

"It's not your fault," he murmured, kissing his shoulder. "Look on the bright side, if it hadn't been like that, we wouldn't be hugging at five-thirty in the morning," he added with a soft chuckle.

Simon couldn't help it and snorted in amusement. Of course he’d seen the positive side of that whole situation. He sighed and tapped Soap on the hip a couple of times.

"You better get up, my legs are falling asleep."

Johnny pulled away and lay down on the bed; Simon followed suit and covered them both with the duvet. He looked at Soap as he moved to snuggle into his arms and, without a second's hesitation, took him close to him. Minutes later, Johnny was breathing deeply, peacefully asleep. Simon kissed his shoulder softly and took a deep breath. He would never have thought that he would enjoy the presence of another person so close to him so much, that he would feel so safe.

He rested his head on Johnny's hair and took a deep breath. Having him in his arms had become one of her favorite sleeping positions, as if hugging Soap would push away bad memories and thoughts, keeping nightmares away. As if it were an invisible cure for his insomnia and Simon felt lucky to have someone like Johnny in his life.

---

Living with Johnny was easier than Simon had expected. Although they had more physical contact than when they lived apart, it didn’t burden him. On the contrary, Johnny left him alone while he drew in the studio and Simon, who didn’t want to disturb him, sat reading in the living room armchair. Ghost loved paper books and Johnny had a lot of them, so it was easy to find him with his nose in the book, smelling the paper.

To his own surprise, he quickly got used to living together and to the routine, Simon had no problems adapting to Johnny's quirks and customs and Soap also quickly adapted to Simon's.

Johnny continued to go to work in Credenhill while Ghost stayed home, resting. Although he was recovering quickly from his injuries, there were still weeks before he could return. In any case, Simon was doing pretty well this time. On previous occasions he had forced himself to return to work as soon as possible, however, right now he was in no hurry. And it was something that felt strange to him.

"That's because you haven't done it in years," Amelia commented, sitting down next to him. "But it's okay to disconnect from time to time."

Simon kept his gaze on the soda in front of him. He had gone to see her like almost every day since he started living with Johnny temporarily; Simon had thought of visiting her to ask if she could lend him a guitar and Amelia had enthusiastically agreed. In fact, she had offered him one of the pub's soundproof rooms and Simon had taken the opportunity to practice again.

"I admit I missed it," he whispered, sipping some of his soda, resigned. Amelia had refused to give him anything with alcohol and he was dying for a whiskey.

"Oh really?" she asked, surprised. "Wow, I'm glad to hear that. I've really missed hearing you play and sing. If one day you'd like to play together, let me know."

Simon looked at her and smiled.

"Sure, I want to see how much you've improved since you started playing again."

Amelia made a vague gesture with her hand.

"Don't get excited, I've lost a lot of practice and there are still some movements that are difficult for me. Although I'm improving little by little."

"You sure are underestimating yourself," Simon made a sly expression and Amelia laughed.

"You're going to have to check it," she challenged before sighing. Amelia looked at her glass with disinterest and a kind expression. Her smile was one of appreciation, one that Simon had seen on a few occasions and always when she talked about Gary, Price or himself. "I'm happy."

Ghost looked at her for half a second and nodded.

"It makes sense. You're going to get married. And to a SAS captain no less."

She pushed him.

"You're an idiot. It's not just about that, it's about you too," Simon raised his eyebrows in surprise and she continued speaking. "You’ll never admit it, because before you would shoot yourself, but you are happy. For the first time in many years, you look happy."

Simon was silent and looked back at his soda. He watched the bubbles and ran his fingertip over the condensation covering the glass thoughtfully. He drank some and sighed.

"You're right," he whispered. "I'm happy. And that scares me."

Amelia placed a hand on his arm and gently traced circles on it. Simon moved his and placed it on top of hers.

"I understand, but this time everything will be fine," Amelia assured him.

"What if something happens to him?" Simon murmured, watching as she intertwined her fingers with his. "What if... what if he gets hurt and I'm not able to save him? What if because of me he…"

"Thinking about it won't help," Amelia interrupted gently. "Honey, the 'what ifs' are the devil's burden. He can break his neck while taking a shower. Or fall down the stairs because he's looking at his cell phone. Or he can get cancer and die. Life takes many turns and many things can happen, but they don't have to be bad," she sat up a little and kissed him on the cheek. "You deserve to be happy, Simon. And I think Soap is the right person."

Ghost looked her in the eyes. He knew she was right; that it was his insecurity that was really speaking, his fear of losing someone important to him again. To see how they suffered because of him. That Johnny ended up hurt by being with someone like him. Simon couldn't bear to see that light that emanated from Soap, one so strong that it was capable of illuminating the darkest corner of his soul, be extinguished; that smile full of joy cooled on his inert lips. Not only because of him, but on the battlefield.

Simon couldn't bear Johnny's death.

And being aware of that made him see how much he loved him, in every way. Simon had been repressing his feelings for Soap so much that he hadn't realized it before. Of how blind he had been, of how wrong he was to believe that it had been Johnny who had started the flirtation when it hadn't been.

"Sweetheart?"

He focused on Amelia. She had a worried expression on her face and, although she kept her hand on his arm, she had stopped tracing circles with her thumb.

"Sorry, I got distracted."

"I've seen it," she replied softly. "What was it this time?"

Ghost didn't respond immediately. He took his time to think and Amelia caressed him again.

"I've realized how much I love Johnny."

He said it so quietly that he wasn't sure Amelia had heard him. He knew she did when Simon saw the change in her expression, now friendly and inviting him to continue talking.

"I thought he was the one who approached first but... it wasn't like that."

She frowned a little.

"You told me that, a few months after you started working together, he had insisted on being your friend."

"That's not what I mean," he shook his head and leaned back in the chair. "I’m talking about the other approach. I started flirting after seeing his performance at the Sin Nombre's house."

Amelia blinked and opened her mouth a few times, trying to speak without success, until she burst out laughing.

"Honey, you don't know how to flirt. You just approach people and whisper in their ear if they want to sleep with you. And it's that sexy voice you have that does the rest."

"Do you also think I have a… sexy voice?"

She leaned over him a little.

"Look, if it hadn't been for John getting there before you and you being much younger than me, you would have had me in your bed on the first day. Your voice sounds almost like a purr when you want and it's incredibly effective."

Simon blushed and she laughed again.

"And I think Soap thinks the same," she added.

"I'm still surprised that he knew how to interpret my stupid comments as a way to flirt," he shook his head, surprised, and drank some more of his soda. "I didn't even realize, I wasn't aware that I had done it on purpose."

"Maybe you had other things to think about," Amelia shrugged. "It's something I noticed when we worked together. You set a specific goal on your list of priorities and the rest of the things take a backseat; it's not that you stop paying attention to them, you just go on automatic. And you do, and say, things without realizing it."

"Seriously?" Simon looked at her surprised. It was the first time someone had said something like that to him about himself.

"Sure. In the same way that your brain blocks pain when it releases adrenaline, it also takes care of things that aren't a priority but that you can't ignore. That's why you're so good at undercover missions and you're such a good lieutenant."

He snorted, dissatisfied, but didn't argue. Amelia seemed to understand because she changed the subject.

"Well, what are you going to get him for Christmas?"

"Excuse me?"

"Christmas is next week, honey," she laughed. "You'll have to give him something."

"We're not spending Christmas together, so I don't have to think about a gift."

Amelia raised her eyebrows, surprised.

"Why not? You have something better to do?"

"No, but Johnny is going to Scotland, like every year."

"Well, you can always go with him. Or maybe he'd prefer to stay with you this year, you're at his house and you're convalescing, so I doubt he'll want to leave you alone."

"I don't need help, Amelia."

She burst out laughing.

"I don't think you really know how relationships work, honey."

Simon was silent, evaluating his friend's words. That word again that he didn't know what to do with. A word that carried too much weight and that seemed more and more appropriate.

He looked down.

"So you think?" He asked. "That we have a relationship?"

"That's what it seems," she answered doubtfully. "Though I may have read too much between the lines, I'm sorry."

"No, don't apologize. It's just… well. I'm not sure."

Amelia seemed to understand.

"Of course, you've never had a partner," she took a deep breath and raised the glass to his lips to drink. "Given my history, I'm not the best person to talk about it; what I can tell you is that a relationship is based on trust and communication. Telling the other person how you feel or if there’s something that bothers you or makes you uncomfortable, among other things," she shrugged. "Honestly, I think what you have between both of you is a good definition, even if you haven't given it a name. Which isn't necessary either, you know," Amelia hastened to add. "And it all depends on what each of you is looking for. If you haven't talked about it, you should."

Simon nodded and remained silent. He remembered what he had felt when Makarov stabbed him in the gulag, all those regrets about how he felt about Johnny, the words he hadn’t dared to say but had dared to write in a letter he carried in his vest pocket. Since he woke up in the military hospital, Simon had thought about it more times than he would admit; he had rethought whether they were really feelings that were born from the fear of dying or if they were real and, in the end, he had come to the conclusion that they were real. That he really loved Johnny, that he wanted to stay by his side for the rest of his days. And, from how he carried himself, he knew that he wanted to have him around too.

Simon ran his hand over his face and realized he had to gather his courage and sit down with him to talk about it. Clarify things.

And, for the first time in a long time, his stomach turned with anxiety.

"I should go," Simon commented as he finished the soda and stood up. "Johnny's about to leave and I haven't made dinner."

"Do you cook now?" Amelia scoffed.

Simon snorted.

"I feel guilty for living with him without contributing anything, so I started making dinner," he replied, putting on his balaclava. "I'm not as good at it as him, but he hasn't complained yet, so I assume it doesn't taste bad."

"You look like a married couple," Amelia laughed.

He blushed, though his mask hid it, and leaned down to kiss her forehead.

"I'll see you tomorrow," she told him.

"I'll be here."

He left Amelia's house, pulled up his hood as soon as he stepped outside, and shoved his hands into his jacket pockets. Simon had three-quarters of an hour of walking ahead and too much to think about. Things that he had to deal with that he didn't know how to approach. Ghost thought of a thousand ways to approach the subject and rejected them all. In the end, while he finished cooking, Simon decided to do what he always did: say things upfront, bluntly.

"That smells really good."

Simon turned sharply when he heard Johnny's voice. The Scot raised his eyebrows a little, surprised, but he didn't stop smiling.

"Did I startle you?" he asked, mockingly.

Ghost snorted and turned to move the pot off the stove. Soap walked over to him and placed a hand on his forehead.

"You don't have a fever, are you okay?"

Simon looked at him and Johnny's mocking expression slowly faded. He removed his hand and cocked his head.

"I'm sorry. It's the first time I've seen you startled."

"Don't apologize, I'm… a little distracted," he replied, moving to set the table.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Johnny probed gently, helping him.

Ghost was silent and placed the food on the table, put in the water and looked at the pitcher as he filled the glasses.

"I should, but I don't know how to approach it," he admitted at last.

Soap put a hand on his back and kissed Simon’s shoulder before taking one of the chairs.

"Don't pressure yourself. Do you want us to start dinner? Maybe it's easier for you this way. Besides, I have to tell you something."

Simon sat up and looked at him curiously.

"What is it?"

"The old man has given us a few days off, so I was thinking about spending Christmas with my family."

"That sounds good," Simon replied, picking at the peas on his plate.

"I believe so. I can't wait to see them," Johnny smiled. "It's been a year since I was home," he paused and looked at Simon. "Hey…" Ghost looked up, expectant. "Would you like to come with me? Don't feel obligated, okay? I mean, I'd like you to come with me but I also don't want you to say yes for me and be uncomfortable. My family is relatively large and noisy and maybe..."

"I'll go."

Soap stopped and looked at him carefully.

"Are… are you sure? You don't have to come, I can stay with you."

"You want me to come with you and I want to do it," Simon replied simply.

Johnny's huge smile lit up the kitchen.

"Oh, really?"

Ghost couldn't help but smile a little.

"Of course. It’ll be… weird," he looked down at his plate and moved the food around with his fork, "and it might be a little difficult, but I want to do it."

"Maybe not that weird," Johnny commented. "My family knows your existence, you know?" Simon looked at him instantly. "Nothing personal, don't worry. They know that you are someone important to me, that you don't like people very much and that you don't want to show your face."

"Won't they... have a problem with me wearing the mask?"

"Nah, my family is pretty tolerant," he waved his hand. "We can always have dinner alone in the kitchen."

Simon was silent and shook his head.

"I'm not going to separate you from your family at Christmas, Johnny."

"But... your face..."

"As long as there are no photos, everything will be fine," he interrupted.

Soap was silent and looked at him for several minutes until Simon looked up. Johnny smiled fondly and Ghost noticed him blushing a little.

"Thank you, Simon," he said softly. "It means a lot to me."

Ghost's heart twisted with pain from the love he felt for that idiot and he did the only thing he was able to do: smile. That lit up Soap's face, who chuckled and continued eating his dinner.

Despite having insisted that he wanted to do it, Simon was not entirely sure about that trip. There were many things that could awaken feelings and memories that he had kept locked away, but on the other hand, maybe a six-hour car trip was the perfect opportunity to talk to Johnny about a few things.

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75-percent-ginger · 2 years

Text

Pattison Endgame

Summary: These events take place between S2 Ep 7 and the series finale, after Allison “disappears.”

Warnings: Depressive episode, angst, some swearing, sexual content (18+).

w/c: 4200+

a/n: I wrote this the weekend before the series finale and it’s my first fanfic ever. I’ll post it on AO3 once I get off the waiting list. I’m obsessed with these two and their love story. The story goes exposition, exposition, angst, so much angst, declarations, whoa sex, end. If anyone actually reads this, I hope you enjoy!

It wasn’t until Patty crossed the state line into Maine that she started to really contemplate what she was doing and have second thoughts. Leaving Massachusetts made it real, but entering the state where Allison was living made her panicky. Her heart started beating wildly and the palms of her hands were sweaty on the wheel. “Christ, Patty, get it together,” she muttered.

Those first few days after “Allison’s incident” were a heady blur for Patty. She had the benefit of knowing that nothing bad had happened to Allison, but the whiplash feeling of hearing Allison say she wanted to stay—the feeling of hope, happiness, and relief blooming in Patty’s chest—made it so much more painful and raw two days later when Allison actually left without saying goodbye. She spent all of her time holed up in her house, barely clocking the parade of police and investigators that would file in and out next door. She was sure Tammy was among them, but she didn't want to deal with anyone right now, especially her recent ex.

Despite her efforts to disappear within her house, Tammy appeared unannounced at her front door, knocking and calling out, “Patty, I know you’re home. I just saw Neil two blocks away and he said you haven’t left the house today.” Patty knew she had to answer, but underestimated the puffiness of her eyes and overall appearance. At that point it had only been three days since Allison had disappeared, and Patty was scaring herself with how empty and despondent she felt. She would cry and fall into an exhausted and restless sleep, obsessing over the note Allison left her. How could Allison say that Patty was better off? What did that even mean? Patty was angry and frustrated, and, during moments when she was honest with herself, completely heartbroken.

She hadn’t looked in a mirror yet when she opened the door for Tammy, but the wide eyes and visible start that Tammy gave was a clue for Patty that she looked like shit. “Oh, ah… I’m sorry to bother you. I, um…” Tammy paused for a few seconds with her hands in her trench coat. “Look, Patty. I’ll be honest here. I came to talk to you about Allison because I wanted to see if you knew anything more—we haven’t found any rem—uh, any sign of Allison at the bottom of that cliff, but our crew is working through some really thick vegetation. Our resources to dedicate to this run out after today. I was wondering if you may have any more information about how Allison was feeling, or if she said anything that indicated she maybe wanted to run away?” Tammy paused there, probably to see what Patty would say, but Patty couldn’t summon the energy to say anything. “Ok, well. I do know how much this is affecting you. I know what close friends you are”—Patty was together enough to hear the sharpness in how Tammy said ‘friends’—“and I’m not here to interrogate you or anything. I thought that maybe you knew something about this, but now that I’m looking at you I don’t think that any more. I’m sorry. Please take care of yourself, Patty.” And with that she was gone.

After the initial few days, Patty tried to resume a normal life, returning to the salon and reading books on her couch, but none of it felt normal. Patty waited patiently to wake up one day and feel like there wasn’t a suffocating weight on her chest, but after two solid months of dragging that heaviness around with her, she found herself outside of Sam’s café. She tucked herself into a corner booth and ordered a ham and cheese sandwich and a water from a disinterested waitress. “Allison’s replacement?” she idly wondered. Patty scanned the front area for Sam, and as he buzzed around the register looking busy, she waited until he started for the back to approach. “Hey, Sam?” she asked tentatively. “Oh, hi Patty. How are you?” he replied, pleasantly. Patty didn’t want to make small talk and also couldn’t honestly answer that question without making the conversation uncomfortable. “I am terrible and it’s a chore to leave my house every day” isn’t the kind of honest conversation you start when you’re about to ask somebody for something. Instead she decided to tell him a half-truth. “Well, I’m having a tough time with the uncertainty of knowing if Allison is okay.” There. That was definitely true. Sam didn’t need to know how consumed she was by the question of why Allison left, and why she thought it would be best for Patty if she did. “I know you said that night that you didn’t really know where she went, but did she give you any idea at all?” Sam looked at her, contemplating his answer. “I don’t know, Patty…” he said, with a half shake of his head. Patty could tell she was losing him so she spoke her other truth. “A couple days before she left, she told me she wanted to stay, and I told her that I wanted her to. I don’t know what changed in those two days, but I’m worried that she’s either in trouble, or maybe I did something and didn’t realize…”

Patty stopped talking abruptly as all of the emotions of the past two months came flying up to the surface with her words. It took all of her strength not to break down in front of Sam, and he could see the struggle and the toll written on her face. “Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay,” he said, grabbing a pitcher of water and filling a glass from the bartop, and thrusting it at her. “Here you go.” He sighed and ran his hand through his hair, before making a silent decision with a slight nod. “She told me she was probably going to stay in New England, at least for a while. But that’s really all I know.” Patty exhaled. “Ok, Sam. Thank you.” As she walked out of the bar she felt lighter for the first time since Allison disappeared. She had a name, and she had a direction. She could work with that.

The lightness lasted for about two hours. As soon as she got home from the café with Sam, she put her plan into place—she was going to call every law office in New England and ask to speak to “Gertrude Fronch.” It wasn’t foolproof. Obviously Allison could be doing anything, but Patty had a hunch that she was trying her hand at being a paralegal again, as one final “fuck you” to Kevin. She started with Vermont, since Allison probably didn’t stay in Massachusetts, and Rhode Island was too close, and Connecticut was basically a suburb of New York. Patty had a hunch that Allison ended up in one of the northern New England states, and she started her phone calls with that same confidence. It began to wane about twenty calls in. If someone called the salon asking for a name she didn’t recognize, she would yell out “Wrong number!” and hang up immediately. It would be five seconds, tops. But these law firms, wow. They couldn’t just say hello, it was always “Thank you for calling the law offices of Larry, Moe, and Curley, how may I direct your call?” And when she asked for Gertrude Fronch, the person on the other end would be way too helpful. “Oh, there’s no one here by that name that I’m aware of but let me take down your name and number in case we just hired her.” Or “I don’t believe she works here but we would love to be of assistance if you can explain why you are calling.” It was an entire song and dance conversation with these people, and it was exhausting. Also, there were way more law firms in New England than she thought! “Yeah, a lot of low level drug dealers that need lawyers,” a little voice in her head teased, sounding just like Allison. “Excuse me, but I am in pain management,” she thought with a smile. God, now she was talking to herself.

After that first day, Patty limited herself to no more than an hour a day making calls. A week later, she was questioning her entire strategy as Vermont and New Hampshire garnered absolutely nothing for her efforts. She was almost through Maine, and that weighty feeling was back each day, when she called an office in what seemed to be a small town in the upper reaches of the state. “Good afternoon, Law Office of Haggarty and Sons, this is Cheryl, how can I help you?” “Hi,” Patty responded, already mentally deciding that this would be her last call of the day, “can I speak to Gertrude Fronch?” “Oh, Trudy?” the woman responded. “Sure, one sec, she just walked through here.” Patty dropped the phone like it was burning and then in a panic picked it up and started slamming the button to end the call. She disconnected and collapsed on the couch with her hand over her mouth. She hadn’t expected at this point to actually locate Allison, and certainly wasn’t prepared to talk to her over the phone. “Oh my God,” she whispered, even though she was alone in the house. “I found her.”

It was easier than she thought to ask Diane to borrow her car. Diane had been spending some time with Neil since Allison disappeared and Patty had to admit it was good for her brother. He was spending way less time with Kevin after the initial first few days after the cops came to Kevin’s door with Allison’s backpack and grim looks, when Kevin demanded attention and catering at a level even beyond his typical self-involved narcissism. Patty begrudgingly understood up to a point that Kevin believed Allison was missing or dead, but when Kevin started going to the bars and using the “my wife went missing and could be DEAD! Or MURDERED! Or EATEN BY A BEAR!” to get free drinks from sympathetic regulars and attention from women, all within a week of her disappearance, Patty lost all sympathy. Kevin was who he was and she couldn’t spend any more mental energy on him. Luckily Neil seemed to reach the same conclusion. He was going off with Diane every couple of days and was vague about what he was doing, but she followed them once to the local Unitarian church where she was pretty sure they had AA meetings. Patty didn’t want to pry but just hoped against hope that he continued on the path he was on and didn’t give in to the black hole that was Kevin ever again. When Patty approached Diane, her cover story was that she needed the car for a couple days for an hairstylist conference in Hartford. Diane regarded her for a moment and pursed her lips. “I imagine this conference is pretty important to you?” “It is,” Patty answered. “Kind of a future defining conference kinda thing.” “Hmm,” Diane responded, thoughtfully. “And you’ll fill the gas back up when you bring it back?”

And now Patty was getting sweat all over Diane’s steering wheel as she tried to stave off an impending panic attack on I-95. She pulled off the highway into a podunk gas station and splashed cold water on her face in the grimy bathroom. She had been so focused on her plan to find Allison that she never really thought about what would happen if she did. How would Allison react to Patty just showing up out of the blue? What would Patty say to her? What if Allison’s new life made her happy? The pit in Patty’s stomach twirled around in a pirouette at that thought. Patty was miserable, but Allison had done what she wanted to do and escaped Kevin. She had to be happy, at least mostly. Maybe completely. Patty still didn’t understand how Allison could sit on the couch next to her and tell her she wanted to stay and then leave without saying a word, just a note with “You’re better off.” Patty dug her nails into her palms and closed her eyes. She didn’t come all this way to turn around now. She was scared and she hated the feeling, but she was going to get answers, no matter how painful they may be to hear.

Some hours later, Patty was sitting outside Haggarty and Sons law firm in Orono, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible slouched in the front seat with her eyes widening with every person that walked out the front door. It was approaching five o’clock but no sign of Allison yet. Patty sat up slightly as the door opened again. “No, that’s a brunette,” Patty thought with disappointment until her breath caught as she noticed the tell-tale hands shoved in the pockets of a winter coat and unmistakable gait of Allison McRoberts. “Of course she looks great with brown hair too,” Patty thought as she hurriedly started the car. As Allison pulled out of the parking lot in a nondescript gray sedan, Patty followed at a safe distance several miles to a cute neighborhood backing up to the woods with similar looking townhouses in varying colors. She watched Allison get out of her car and enter one of the middle units, and could see a light go on through the drawn curtains. Her heart was slamming in her chest. “Now or never, O’Connor,” she said aloud. She turned the car off decisively and got out of the car in a hurry. She closed the distance to Allison’s house feeling her heart pound with every step. She found herself in front of Allison’s door, and felt herself knocking with a slow “Thwock…thwock…thwock.” She heard footsteps and focused on the door handle turning.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Anyone on the outside would say that Trudy Fronch was settling well into Orono. It was a college town so the locals were used to transplants more than one would expect in northern Maine. She found a job pretty quickly in a family-run law firm with Bob Haggarty and two of his boys (the third boy had a little problem and dropped out of law school, the locals would say as they tapped the side of their noses and made sniffing sounds). On Sundays you could usually find her at a cafe near the university at a table eating a scone and reading a book, early enough so the hungover college students weren’t up yet and dragging themselves in for brunch. She lived in the Stillwater Village townhomes and as far as anyone knew seemed to be single. The only thing people really knew was that she had been from Massachusetts at some point in her life—no hiding that accent. She kind of winced when you asked her, though, and Mainers don’t pry into anyone’s business who doesn’t want to be pried into, so by all accounts Trudy Fronch was fitting in well and only slightly mysterious.

Allison McRoberts worked hard to appear as nondescript as possible in Orono and knew that even with some mild interest from her neighbors, coworkers, and locals, for the most part it was working. It was all an act, of course. She went to her job at the law firm and found some comfort in her paralegal work. It was interesting and it felt good to be employed. But there was no joy in it. She smiled and made small talk and ate cake at Bob’s birthday celebration and there was emptiness behind all of it for her. On Sundays she would go to the cafe and pick at a scone and stare at the same three lines in her book as her mind wandered.

There was a relief in her freedom from Kevin, of course, but it was outweighed by the loss of Patty. It was a different loneliness than the years she spent facing every day in her miserable marriage, but the ache of it was constant. So many times she would think of something she couldn’t wait to tell Patty and immediately realize that she couldn’t share anything with Patty ever again. She constantly felt like she was on the verge of tears. She would close her eyes and think about the comfort of sitting on Patty’s porch with her, even in silence. She thought about what Patty would say when the only decorative touch she made in her townhouse so far was a Barbie doll still in its case, propped on the counter in her kitchen. She could picture Patty smirking, “Nice touch, Allison, but maybe a little too on the nose?” She smiled at what she would say to Patty in response, as innocently as possible- “Oh, Trudy made that choice. I would have put up a sign that says ‘Live, Laugh, Love.’” She thought about Patty all the time. Not having her next door was torture. She hadn’t wanted to leave, but it was the only way to ensure Patty wouldn’t get caught up in the plan she had put into motion and dragged Patty into. Also, she had to admit, both Neil and Tammy were in her head about her negative effect on Patty. She felt a little thrill when she first heard Patty tell her with a tipsy laugh that Tammy thought she was a bad influence on her. But then Neil said that Patty was so different since they started hanging out—that she was worse. Allison felt defensive when he said it, but it stayed in the back of her mind. She was the one who got Patty involved in all of the illegal shit she did as she planned to kill Kevin. She had put Patty at risk, and as Tammy closed in on the truth, Allison couldn’t keep doing it. She didn’t care much if she was caught, but she would never get over it or forgive herself if Patty was. She had to leave. She had to.

The actual act of disappearing had been easy once she realized that she had to do it. She told Pete and Kevin she was going on a hike, and then dropped her backpack just off the trail before a huge drop off that ended in thick trees, brambles, and rocks. She doubled back, put her hair up in a hat, and called a cab to take her to the the train station in Providence. From there she bounced around like a pinball machine—train to New York City, bus to Albany, different bus line to Burlington, and then finally a rental car to Maine. She found her townhouse online and her paralegal job within a week. It was all easy, except for the part where she had to exist in this new life, without the person she cared most about in this world. Without the person she loved.

It had been a typical Tuesday at the law firm and Allison was home deciding between chicken cacciatore or spaghetti and meatballs when there was a slow, steady knock at the door. She was immediately nervous. It had only been a little over two months and as easy as the disappearance had been she knew she wasn’t ever going to be truly in the clear. She half expected to see a police officer, or Tammy, or hell, even Kevin, show up on her doorstep at any point. “It’s probably just a neighbor,” she thought as she approached the door and took a deep breath as she turned the door handle and pulled the door open.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Patty took in Allison’s new hair first, even though she had already seen it. The brown locks framed her face perfectly—a face that had gone wide-eyed and open-mouthed upon seeing Patty standing there. “Hi, Trudy,” Patty managed. Allison broke into a smile that flooded Patty with relief as she was able to let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding in. “Oh my God, Patty!” Allison exclaimed. “Come in!” Patty stepped into the entryway with the kitchen directly to her left. She noticed a plastic case with a Barbie leaning against the wall on the counter. She raised her eyebrow at Allison. “Oh, yeah, that’s just an idea that I had and um, it’s like kind of a memory and a joke and um…” Allison stammered and trailed off with a quick shake of her head and a gesture with her hand. Patty had to bite her lip at Allison’s awkwardness. It was comforting and grounding to know that Allison hadn’t lost any of it with her new persona.

“Wait,” said Allison, suddenly. “How did you find me?” Patty watched as the fear dawned on Allison’s face she and spoke quickly to reassure her. “Don’t worry, I’m the only one who knows where you are. The police officially labeled you a missing person but they aren’t looking for you anymore. I think Tammy’s suspicious, but she doesn’t think I know where you are. The last time I spoke to her, I didn’t. She has no reason to come looking for you.” Allison breathed a sigh of relief. “And Kevin?” Patty hesitated. “Well, at this point he’s mainly pissed he has to wait five years to declare you legally dead and collect insurance. I’ve also seen the same girl around your house lately so I think he had a pretty quick grieving period.” Allison nodded. “To be expected, honestly,” she said with a shrug.

There was silence for a moment. Then Allison asked, “So how did you know where I was?” Now Patty felt awkward. “Well, I had your name of course. And then Sam was able to tell me you were probably somewhere in New England.” She hesitated and then said in a rush, “So I knew you liked the paralegal thing before Kevin messed it up for you so I had a hunch and I started calling all the law firms in a few states asking for you and then I found you at the place you were today.” She paused without looking at Allison and then added, “It wasn’t a big deal,” with what she hoped was nonchalance. Patty snuck a look at Allison, who was staring at her. “Wow,” she said softly. “You really know me, don’t you?”

Something seized in Patty with that question. “I mean, I thought I knew you, Allison. But you told me you wanted to stay, you made me believe that you wanted to stay, and then you just…. And the note you left for me said I was better off? How could you think that? How could you possibly…” Patty pressed her lips together hard to cut her question off as the emotions of the last two months and being here in front of Allison now threatened to break her wide open. She didn’t know if she wanted to break down in sobs or yell, but she felt like she was teetering on the edge of losing it completely. She hated this vulnerability. She hated it. Allison was the only person in this world that could make her feel this exposed. Allison, who was—Patty looked at the other woman’s trembling lower lip and realized with incredulity that Allison was also on the verge of losing it. “I’m sorry, Patty,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry but it was the only way to keep you safe and I was ruining you anyway and I couldn’t keep doing that to you, so I had to leave, and—“ Allison put her hands up to her face and started to cry.

Patty’s instinct was to go to Allison and comfort her, but then part of what Allison had said hit her and she stopped with her hand on Allison’s arm. “What do you mean you were ruining me?” Allison sniffed and wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater. “It’s just some of the stuff Tammy said when she had the video of you in Vermont, when she knew that I was the one who got you into the situation. And Neil! Neil said how different you were once we started hanging out and I just started thinking about all of the risky situations I put you in and that if he saw it and Tammy saw it, it must be true.” “Oh Allison,” Patty sighed. “You listened to my jealous girlfriend and my idiot brother? I was beside you in Vermont because I chose that. You didn’t force me into doing anything. I’ve been alongside you every step of the way because I wanted to be. And of course I was different after we became friends—Neil was used to me being miserable!” Allison looked at her hopefully. “Are you sure? You mean that?” Patty was suddenly aware of their physical proximity. She cleared her throat and took a half step back. “I am. But there’s one more thing I was wondering.” Allison gave her a quick nod. “The night you told me you wanted to stay, you never answered why. You had gone through so much to disappear and be done with Kevin, so why did you change your mind?“ Patty didn’t realize until she asked the question how much she needed to hear the answer. There was a little beacon of hope rising within her that bloomed as she waited for Allison to respond, scarcely daring to breathe.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Allison had run the gamut of emotions since opening the door and seeing Patty standing there. Joy and excitement at first, then fear when she thought she may have been discovered. The worst was seeing the obvious hurt on Patty’s face when she asked why Allison had left. It was overwhelming to Allison that she had done anything to hurt Patty that badly. And for what? She had wanted to stay, but thought she was doing the right thing by leaving. But here now, in front of Patty, feeling the intensity of her gaze as she asked why Allison had wanted to stay, Allison knew what a mistake it had been to go. And now she had a second chance. A chance to be honest and to repair the damage.

With her heart thrumming in her chest, Allison spoke her truth: “I wanted to stay because of you.” Allison watched Patty’s eyes widen and it was just enough for her to summon the courage to keep speaking. “My feelings for you made me want to stay. This isn’t just a friendship for me, not anymore. And you are my best friend, Patty, you’re the best person I’ve ever known, but I’ve recently discovered that I am absolutely in love with you, and it’s so much more than friendship, for me.” She paused with her head down, hardly daring to look up at Patty, until Patty spoke.

“Allison….I….I’ve been in love with you this entire time.” Patty raised her shoulders with her palms up, tilting her head. “I’m so sorry I spent fifteen years ignoring you. When you left I felt like I deserved it for refusing to see you or know you for so long, and—“ Patty’s words caught in her throat. Allison closed the small distance between them and brushed Patty’s hair back off her shoulders. She used both hands to cup the sides of Patty’s face and traced her thumbs back and forth against her cheekbones. When she met Patty’s lips with an intensity that even she wasn’t expecting, Patty responded with an equal hunger. She tasted of the mint gum she had no doubt chewed in the car after her last menthol. Allison noticed how expertly Patty wielded her tongue and the implications of that sent a shiver of desire up Allison’s spine. Allison had never felt the kind of certainty that she felt in this moment with Patty with anyone else—that she was exactly where she should be, doing exactly what she should be doing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Patty hoped she would remember to keep breathing through the kiss. From the moment Allison had said she wanted to stay for her, that she was in love with her it felt like she was going to float away like a balloon in the wind. Was she breathing? Maybe she had died. Maybe she had been in a car accident on the way up to Maine and this was a coma dream. But her lips were responding to Allison (Allison! Kissing her!) and the rush of blood throughout her body let her know that she was very much present and alive. Then Allison made a noise against Patty’s lips that was between a sigh and a hum, and it was like every fantasy that Patty barely allowed herself to have for months burst free in her mind and almost made her gasp with the desire to take Allison right there in the kitchen.

Allison clearly felt the charge pulsing through Patty since she broke the kiss off for a second and looked at her in a way that gave Patty no hesitation about what to do next. She gripped Allison’s hips and moved her back against the kitchen counter, pinning her with her body. She traced light kisses down Allison’s jawline to her neck as Allison tilted her head and made a “Mmmmm” sound. Then with a sudden movement Patty put her hands on Allison’s round bottom and lifted her up onto the countertop. Allison had worn a skirt to work that day and it was riding up as Patty positioned herself between her legs. “Allison, I need to you tell me—“ “Yes,” Allison interrupted, breathing hard. “I want you to do anything and everything you want to me.” Patty didn’t need to hear it twice. She moved her hand up the smooth skin of Allison’s inner thigh until her fingers found panties. She used her thumb to circle the telltale wetness as Allison gave a sharp intake of breath. Patty slowly moved the panties to the side and purposely refrained from allowing her fingertips to make anything more than the barest contact with the part of Allison that was now moving insistently toward her touch. She shook her head at Allison with a smirk on her face. “You said I could do anything and everything I wanted. And I want to make sure you never forget this experience.”

“Don’t worry,” Allison responded shakily, “already one for the books!” Patty smirked again and got back to work, pulling Allison’s panties down and off her legs in one motion and then using her right hand to sneak under Allison’s sweater and push her bra up and off her breasts. Allison hurriedly took the sweater off and threw it to the side as Patty unhooked the rest of her bra and cupped her breasts while alternating kisses on her neck and nipples. “That feels so good,” Allison murmured. “Wait until you see what’s next,” Patty responded. “Lean back.” Patty dipped her head down and flicked her tongue at the place on Allison she knew would get a response. She wasn’t disappointed. Allison jerked like she had been zapped by a charge of electricity and let out an “Oh!” Patty pressed forward, her tongue alternating pressure and speed based on Allison’s increasingly loud and demonstrative reactions. At one point Patty thought she heard Allison saying “I knew it, I knew it.” She lifted her head with a “Hmm?” but Allison could no longer hold a conversation. Patty let Allison twist a hand in her hair and shove her head back down. Seconds later Allison arched the small of her back and drove her heels into Patty’s shoulder blades and as she shuddered from the waves of pleasure coursing through her body she came calling Patty’s name over and over.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Allison could trust her legs to support her, she slid off the counter and took Patty’s hand with one word: “Bedroom.” Patty gave her a look that was a mixture of interest and arousal that set Allison’s heart into arrhythmia. They crossed the threshold as Allison shed her skirt, the only remaining article of clothing she was wearing, and she focused on pulling layers off of Patty while kissing her greedily. When Patty was as naked as she was, Allison pushed her back on the bed and straddled her, feeling the heat emanating from between Patty’s legs and feeling a thrill looking down at Patty’s porcelain skin and soft, heavy breasts. She leaned down and kissed Patty more slowly, letting her hair drape around her face. “Want me to tell you what I like?” Patty asked.

But it had been 15 years of Allison being responsible for her own orgasms in moments when Kevin wasn’t home or definitely asleep, and she had learned a few things about her body in that time. She figured the things that she liked may be the things that worked for Patty too, so instead she said “Tell me if I do anything you don’t like, but right now I’m in charge.” Patty couldn’t hide a smile, but as Allison slipped her fingers down and found Patty slick and ready, the smile turned into a little gasp as Allison entered her with two fingers and began slowly penetrating her, curling her fingers each time on the way out and going faster and with more urgency in response to Patty’s increasing moans. Allison only slowed down to adjust her position and introduce her tongue, tentatively at first as she tried to remember everything that Patty had done to her just minutes before, but with increasing confidence as Patty’s legs pulled taut around Allison’s head and her breath came loud and quick. Allison slipped a third finger into Patty and was immediately rewarded with a full body spasm as Patty panted “Jesus….Christ….Allison!” and then came with an intensity that left her quivering and unable to form any more words.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next few hours passed in bliss as they dozed in each other’s arms. At some point in the middle of the night Allison noticed Patty was awake too and quietly asked, “When do you need to go back to Worcester?” “Well,” Patty responded, “considering I borrowed Diane’s car to get here and told her I’d be gone for two days, it has to be tomorrow.” Allison made a noncommittal “Hmm,” and propped herself up on her elbow, looking at Patty. “What do you think about coming back up here this weekend? I have enough money for you to rent a car.” Patty smiled. “I think I can work that into my schedule.” Allison smiled too. It was funny how quickly life could change. She had been facing a future without Patty when she had woken up the day before. Now Patty was in her bed, they had told each other how they felt, and the possibilities before them seemed endless.

“Patty?” Allison asked. “Mm?” was the sleepy response. “When you come back this weekend, maybe we can go see a movie?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

#pattison #allison x patty #allison mcroberts #patty o'connor #kcfh #fanfic

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mrsalwayswrite · 3 years

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Sinners and Saints (Sihtric x reader)

Summary: One day you stumble upon your childhood friend, Osferth, whom you have not seen in years. Yet the more time you spend with him, the more you find yourself drawn to his companion, Sihtric….and the butterflies his dark eyes give you.

This is my contribution to @emilyhufflepufftlk 100 followers challenge! Congratulations again! I’m so happy for you!

My prompt was - "Love doesn't discriminate, between the sinners and the saints." - Lin-Manuel Miranda, Hamilton (in bold within the story)

Words: 5500

Warnings: A couple of swear words, fluff, my poor attempts at humor, Osferth being a good bro.

Tag List: @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @flowers-in-your-hayr

This gorgeous moodboard was made by @flowers-in-your-hayr. All credit goes to her!

"...so there she was, aye, and next thing I know, she flips 'er dress up and I see the most perfect set of…."

"I'm going to be sick." Osferth mumbled to himself, trying to block out Finan's retelling of his prior night. To the laughter of his companions, he started to push away from the outdoor table at the alehouse. He was no virgin anymore, Finan and Uhtred had seen to that, but he still felt squeamish when listening to their stories of recent conquests. His mother's voice whispered in the back of his mind, things she had told him before her passing, about respect and love. Plus, he could not help but think that this idea of conquests, of women's worth derived from what pleasure a man could take from their bodies, was what brought bastards into this world….like him.

"Alright, Finan, we get it. You saw the arse of a goat and couldn't help yourself." Uhtred teased, slinging an arm around Osferth so he could not escape them- most likely to find a church and pray for their souls.

"Oi, lord! Ya know that was one time!" Finan feigned mock-outrage, making Uhtred and Sihtric laugh.

Osferth put a hand over his eyes as if that would somehow block the image from his mind. Something he desperately did not want there.

"How much longer are we here, lord?" Sihtric asked, changing the subject, while twirling a dagger between his hands fluidly.

Although Osferth would never admit it aloud, and God forgive him, it was hard not to be jealous of how easily his companions handled their weapons like they had been born with weapons in hand. They continued to tell him it was practice. Recently though, he decided it was a gift that he clearly did not have.

"Until I feel satisfied with the training of Lord Godwin's fyrd and his defenses." Uhtred stated indifferently, as if it was something he had to repeat to himself often.

"Ya think King Alfred knew how much of a horse's arse Lord Godwin is?"

Uhtred glanced up, a tiny smirk on his lips. "Probably."

"But he knew you were the man for the job." Osferth commented. Not necessarily to defend his father but to hopefully bolster Uhtred's confidence. "The men respect you, even if their lord fails to acknowledge his own respect."

"The baby monk is right." Finan said. "What else needs to be done for the town?"

Uhtred and Finan began discussing ideas and strategies, Sihtric adding an occasional comment but mostly just listening.

Osferth found his attention wandering, since this was an area outside of his expertise. His gaze drifted to the town and its residents who moved about to complete their duties under the midday sun. Their group had only been in this large town for two days and already Osferth was keen to return to Coccham.

From amidst the crowd, a familiar face caught his attention. The world tilted off its axis as his entire body went rigid, all his focus zeroed in on her. His heart hammered in his chest and the air whooshed from his lungs painfully.

"Y/n?" He muttered to himself, disbelief and shock clearly painted in his tone and on his face.

"Baby monk, ya alright?"

Finan's words did even register, so consumed by the ghost before him. Rapidly, he slid off the bench, almost losing his footing when he went to stand, but pressed on, hurrying towards her.

"Y/n!" He called, an almost desperate tone in his yell.

When she did not turn around, he shouted louder. "Y/N!"

That time she paused, then slowly turned to find him standing still amongst those walking around him, a solid rock in a stream of people. He held his breath as he intently watched her expression, suddenly worried seeing him would not be as meaningful as he hoped. He could see her utter his name silently, eyes wide. Then in the next moment, she dropped the basket on her hip and ran towards him. He opened his arms just in time for her to collide with him, and with her embrace, a painful wave of nostalgia and guilt crashed over him with the strength of a tempest.

"It's really you." She finally whispered, peering at him in awe.

"Hi." He smiled, his own shock clouding his mind from forming coherent sentences.

Then to his surprise, she reared back and punched him in the arm.

"Ouch! What was that for?" He whined, rubbing the offended limb.

Throwing her hands in the air, they landed on her hips as her voice rose in anger. "For disappearing in the middle of the night without telling me!"

"I did tell you."

"That you were THINKING about leaving, not that you WERE leaving!" She reared back and punched him in the arm again, ignoring his pained cry as she continued to berate him. "I spent an entire day running around the monastery trying to find you only for Father Harold to finally pull me aside and tell me you left for Wincheaster."

And there was the heaping of guilt he knew he deserved. "I'm sorry….I just….I just knew if I didn't leave that night, then I never would."

Her face softened at his quiet admission, understanding passing in her eyes. "I know. I wasn't truly surprised…. Just wish you'd have told me before."

"I'm sorry."

She sighed, all anger and frustration disappearing, much to his relief. She was a force to be reckoned with when truly in her fury. "So, what are you doing here?"

"Ah, traveled here with the Lord Uhtred to assist Lord Godwin in his defenses….or something."

"Uhtred? That Uhtred?"

He smiled at her, catching the reverence in her tone. "That very one."

"How did you find him? How did you join him? Wait! Are you a warrior now? We have a lot to talk about and you better get started." There went the hands on her hips again, making his smile widen at the image. Even as a young girl, when her hands were on her hips, you knew she meant business.

"Would you like to meet him first?"

A shy look passed over her face that he was unused to seeing. "I'm…. I'm not presentable to meet a lord."

He scanned her, noting the dried mud on the hem of her dress and shoes, the small smear of what looked like flour on her left temple. What he noticed most was how the years had made her even more beautiful. She had always been a pretty girl but now, she truly looked like a beautiful woman. A fact he was unsure of how to feel about.

He chuckled lightly after a moment. "Well, you certainly smell better than Lord Uhtred so I think it's fine."

That caused her to tip her head back and laugh loudly, the desired effect of his comment. She gathered up her basket and walked next to Osferth, back to the table where his companions were. It was impossible to ignore their curious stares as they approached.

"Lord Uhtred, may I introduce y/n. Y/n, this is Lord Uhtred of Bebbanburg." Osferth said, standing next to her at the end of the table.

Uhtred nodded graciously, clearly wondering why this woman mattered and why Osferth was introducing her.

"Oh, it's an honor to meet you!" Y/n gushed, a bright smile on her face. "Uncle Leofric told us so much about you, but I never thought I'd ever meet you in person."

"Leofric?" That caught his lord's attention, his gaze narrowing and eyeing her with renewed interest. "How did you know that turd?"

"When he came to visit Osferth, he'd tell us stories."

"Ah….all exaggerated, of course." Uhtred said with a cocky smirk.

"Wait. I think we're missin' the most important thing here." Finan leaned forward, dark eyes bouncing between Osferth and her, as he pointed a finger at them, hand still wrapped around his cup. "Ya said 'Uncle Leofric'....are ya related to Osferth?"

Osferth answered quickly. "No, her family owned the farm next to the monastery, so we grew up together." Then he furrowed his brows as a thought hit him. He had been so amazed to see his childhood best friend (only friend really) that he had not realized that she should be back at the farm and not in this town. "Wait, y/n, why are you here and not at the farm?"

Her face crumpled for a brief second before she was able to mask it into a neutral expression. She shrugged casually, but he could read the subtle tension in the action. "We lost the farm, so mother and I came here to look for work."

"Ah." There were so many things he wanted to ask but could tell now was not the right time. If she lived here, he would have plenty of time to hear the full story later. Instead he decided to change the subject. "So, you know Lord Uhtred, the others are Finan and Sihtric…. And Sihtric is also a bastard." He added as an afterthought.

That made her face light up as she turned to look at the Dane. "Hey, another bastard! We really need to start a club. We can all rant about how awful our fathers are."

"You're a bastard?" Uhtred asked, shock evident in his voice.

"Yes, my lord. My mother was a servant for a lord. Got pregnant. The lord's wife did not like that so sent my pregnant mother back to her family. Certainly, it was our Lord's Will because how else would I have been able to grow up with Osferth?" She asked, patting him on the cheek affectionately. He blushed and swatted her hand away, much to the other's amusement.

"I reckon you have quite a few amusin' stories of growin' up with Osferth, eh?" Finan smirked.

"I might….but I don't share secrets for free." She matched his smirk with her own crooked smile.

He slapped his hand on the table. "I'll owe ya a drink! I need to 'ear this."

"No….oh no, no, no." Osferth said but knew it was a lost cause before he even tried to deter them. The rest were already deciding when and where to meet that night. "Lord help me."

"It's not that bad." She teased, bumping his arm with hers. "The worst one is when we went streaking naked through the monastery."

Osferth felt his face heat up like the flames of hell itself as everyone laughed. "It was your idea."

"Yeah, yeah, so you like to remind me." She smiled fondly. "Now, if I don't get back home, my mother is going to think I've run off with some man or I've been kidnapped. Either way, she will raise the fyrd herself to find me. I will see you all tonight."

The others said their goodbyes but before she could step too far away, Osferth gently touched her arm, halting her movement.

"Y/n….I'm….I'm glad our paths have crossed once again."

She pulled him into a tight embrace. "I am too, Osferth. I've missed you." With that, she turned and walked away with her basket still on her hip; but not without glancing over her shoulder at the group before disappearing around some buildings.

Once out of sight, Osferth sighed and turned back to his companions, only to see them all still staring intently in the direction she disappeared.

"No….y/n is off-limits to you fornicators." He stated firmly, well as firmly as he could be.

"She's very pretty…." Uhtred declared, a playful grin on his face.

"Lord, no. All of you, keep your hands off of her."

"Or what?" Finan chuckled, eyes alight with mischief. "You'll fight us, baby monk?"

"I will if I must."

"Alright. Her dignity won't be tarnished." Uhtred lifted his cup in Osferth's direction. "Your reputation might be tonight depending on what stories she shares."

Osferth groaned, sitting back down next to his lord. "I'm going to need a lot of ale."

"That can certainly be arranged!" Finan laughed, jovial once more.

As discussion started back up again, they all missed the silent, longing glance Sihtric snuck one last time in the direction she walked away….

*****

Over the next several weeks Lord Uhtred helped increase the defenses of the town and instructed the guards and fyrd how to better defend against the Danes.

During those weeks, you found yourself frequently spending time with Osferth and his companions. First it started off with meeting them in the evenings for ale, laughter and good company. Within days, it became almost expected for one of them to purposefully seek you out. Most of the time it was Osferth and Sihtric coming to join you in whatever your tasks for the day because they were bored or unwanted in meetings. It was not difficult to tell that although they were certainly welcomed members of Uhtred's group, not everyone else saw them in such a positive light.

So the three of you often passed the hours away together, waiting until evening to rejoin Uhtred and Finan at the alehouse. Their presence became such a regular occurrence that your mother practically adopted them, they even had their assigned seats at your small kitchen table for meals. Somehow, they seamlessly slipped into your daily life in a way that seemed like they were meant to be there this whole time.

Even at the alehouse in the evenings, you usually found yourself nestled between Osferth and Sihtric on the bench. A place you certainly found yourself enjoying more and more….especially next to the Dane.

Over the weeks, there was something growing between you and the Dane. It gradually revealed itself with each passing day, growing like the roots of an oak tree. It was through the borderline flirtatious comments that you teased each other with. It was in the subtle touches that caused butterflies in your stomach to dance, from your fingers barely gracing each other when passing something, to the way you leaned your head on his shoulder when your eyelids threatened to close, to the way your thighs would touch under the table and away from view of the others. It was in the lingering looks when your gazes locked and you swore you never wanted to look away. It was in the consistency of being next to one another whenever you could, either sitting at a table or just walking down the street, almost like your bodies were magnetized to one another's.

Plus the more you talked to Sihtric, the more you desired to know about him. For he was like no other man you had ever met.

Almost a fortnight after you reunited with Osferth, there was one particular evening after staying out far too late with the four men and drinking a bit too much, Sihtric graciously offered to walk you back home. You knew propriety demanded Osferth should be the one to escort you but he was already passed out, head on the table and snores emitting from his mouth. Giggling at your childhood friend, you accepted Sihtric's offer and the two of you easily fell into step.

On the walk you learned more about his past, about going up in Dunholm and his cruel father. You had heard bits and pieces while with Osferth and the others. Maybe it was under the cover of darkness, maybe it was the extra ale flowing through both of your blood, but he confessed secrets to you he had never told another besides his mother. When you reached your home, before he could slip away, you clutched his arm and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. After, you bid him goodnight and slipped inside your humble home.

After that night, he always walked you home, sometimes alone and sometimes one of the others would join. But when it was just you two, when you were alone, you would bid him a goodnight with a kiss on the cheek or he would kiss your hand, locking eyes with you in a way that made a fire stir in your belly and your core clench.

There was definitely something between the two of you, but neither seemed able to verbalize it or take the next step.

*****

"So, what is going on between you and Cedric?"

You turned your head to look at Osferth, who laid on the grass next to you, soaking in the heat of the early afternoon sun. "What?"

"You know….that blacksmith. The one you were talking to the other day."

"Oh." The memory hit you. You had stopped by to drop off your mother's damaged cooking pot for Cedric to attempt in fixing, although you personally thought it was a helpless cause. The dent in it was significant, but he offered to see what he could do. As you dropped it off at his workshop, the two of you began discussing an approaching saint's day and the celebration that would occur with it.

Several minutes later, you heard your name called and looked over to see Osferth and Sihtric walking towards you. You bid Cedric a farewell, promising to stop by the next day to come pick up the pot. After receiving his promise to try his best at fixing it, you headed off towards the stables with your fellow bastards. At the time, you had not thought the encounter significant but with it happening two days ago and Osferth now bringing it up, you wondered how long he had been ruminating on it.

Finally, you simply said, "he's a good man, and has been kind to my mother and I since we arrived here."

"Is he….pursuing you?" Osferth turned his head to scrutinize you, his lips pursed slightly as if concerned about your answer.

You openly laughed at the notion. "No, that's silly. He is just a kind man."

If anything, you had to fend off flirtatious advancements from some of the young men that worked under Cedric. Those same young men quickly learned to keep their eyes on their work and mouths shut. When one openly called out to you, and before you could offer a sharp retort, Cedric threw a hammer at him from across the shop. He bellowed that he did not allow heathens to work for him and if they chose to act godless then they needed to find a new place of work. Their blatant interest diminished after that and Cedric made a point to be the only one that conversed with you if you came to the shop. Although he was easily ten years your senior, you found him a likeable man with a quick wit and sarcastic comments that occasionally left you in stitches.

The idea of him pursuing you was an amusing idea. He was still a bachelor, never having married, claiming that his work and apprentices kept him far too busy for much else.

Your answer appeared to satisfy Osferth. A thoughtful look crossed his face and he opened his mouth as if to speak, but immediately slowly closed it and turned his head back to stare at the blue sky.

A stillness settled after your answer, only interrupted by the frequent bird song and the wind through the tall grass. You closed your eyes, enjoying the sun's warmth and just lying around relaxing on the hill outside of the town, away from the hustle and bustle and chores that demanded your attention.

"He was watching you like a man who wants a woman." Sihtric stated after a couple minutes of peaceful silence.

Startled by his sour tone, you shifted up to look over at the Dane. He sat on the other side of Osferth, one leg propped up and an arm casually slung over it, but his gaze was focused straight ahead, staring off into the distance. Now that you thought about it, over the past two days Sihtric had become more reserved and sullen than you had ever seen. Even his companions commented on it a few times to which he would shrug his shoulders or make an excuse and walk away. You had thought he just missed Coccham, the group having been away for so long, or something happened that made him introspective. It had also not escaped your notice how the prior closeness between you two had halted. Now you wondered if there was something more to his demeanor.

"Well, that is most unfortunate for him since I am not interested in him."

"Does your mother not want you to marry?" Osferth asked, his voice deceptively neutral.

Sighing, you leaned back on your hands. Eventually you knew Osferth would bring up the topic, he was your friend after all and you were certainly of marriageable age. Actually far too old to not be married by some people's standards, but you ignored them. "She does but she has told me that she will not force it upon me. She said I should make my own choice….that if I am able, I should choose love."

You knew your mother offered you that choice in hopes your life would turn out differently than her own.

"But if Cedric is a good, kind man….could you not love him….or someone like him?" Osferth pressed.

"Perhaps. There are plenty of men I have seen who the church would call a 'good' man but are cruel in their own home, and there are many men who are calloused but it's obvious they love their wife and children. My love doesn't discriminate, between the sinners and the saints. I would rather choose a man whom I know loves and cares for me than a man I know is 'good' but carries no love in his heart." You paused, the candid confession rolling off your tongue before you realized it. Sighing, you ran a hand over your hair before quietly saying. "I just….I just want someone that loves me….sinner or saint."

Not a word was spoken as all three contemplated your statement, the silence hanging heavy like a brewing storm. Tilting your face to the sky, unable to meet the gazes of your companions, you chastised yourself for the candor with which you spoke. Osferth had asked a simple question initially and you chose to make it complicated. They did not need to know how you longed for love, how the hope for it in your potential future was what kept you going. It was foolish and you supposed after this, they would only see you as a silly girl with outlandish dreams of a storybook romance.

Finally, Osferth broke the silence. "Well, I shall be praying fervently for this man….hopefully he knows what he is getting into before he marries you."

You laughed, appreciating his lighthearted comment. Reaching a hand out to smack Osferth's arm, you teased. "Keep that up and you won't be invited to my wedding."

"Your mother will let me in."

"Yeah, you're probably right." You glanced over in the direction of the town, regretting that your time away had to end. "I need to head back, those chores won't finish themselves."

The three of you headed back to the town, quiet contemplation cloaking your group. Yet you feared that whatever spark lay between you and the Dane had been extinguished forever by your unexpected honesty. For still he refused to look your way, keeping his gaze focused forward. If your heart fissured within your chest, you swallowed down the pain. It was better for the spark to die out now then burn brightly only to be smothered later.

Or at least that was what you told yourself.

*****

"What you said….about the sinners and the saints…."

You whirled around, heart leaping into your throat with a silent scream on your tongue. In the small herb garden behind your house, you had thought you were alone. After the awkward conversation on the hill earlier that day, you sought solace in your chores. Thankfully Osferth and Sihtric headed back to meet with their companions on their own accord, leaving you to trudge through your muddled thoughts with all the grace of a newborn foal.

Now you found the very person who your thoughts centered on, standing just a few paces from you….and your heart began to race for a very different reason.

When his voice trailed off, those dark eyes that set fire licking through your veins dropped to the ground, you quietly stood up from where you had knelt, wiping the dirt from your hands, although you moved no closer.

"Sihtric?" You tried to prompt him.

"Is it true?" His piercing gaze lifted to meet yours, stealing the very breath from your lungs. "Your love doesn't discriminate?"

"Yes." You breathed out.

He nodded silently before taking a step closer to you. "And what about….what about Danes?"

Your chest pulled tight at his words, yet a coy smile grew on your lips. The flutter in your belly made your gaze drop for a moment as you tried to stifle the excitement making butterflies dance. Although this was no declaration, it was the closest the two of you had talked about what lay between you. Taking a steadying breath, you prayed this moment would not pass by without confessing the truth that you had harbored in your heart for weeks now.

"Not even towards Danes." You shook your head, the smile still on your lips. "And…. There is one I'm becoming quite fond of lately."

"Yeah?" He took two steps closer, somehow moving cautiously but eating the ground with each determined step.

"But….do you think this Dane could be….fond of me?" You softly murmured, feeling as if your heart lay in the palms of your hands for all to see.

That last step separating you two disappeared almost before you finished asking your question. His hands ever so gently reached over to take yours, entwining your fingers together. The two of you stood so close, your chests almost touched with each breath you took. Your breathing seemed to cease under the intensity of his gaze and a shiver raced up your spine. Yet you had no desire to withdraw from him.

"He would be a fool not to." He whispered, the barest hint of a tremble in his voice. "I'd bet you are constantly on this Dane's mind. That he cannot go a day without seeing your face and hearing your laugh. You are the first thought that he wakes to and the reason he falls asleep with a smile. That you have become the north star that it seems the gods have been guiding him towards for his whole life."

As he spoke, everything faded to oblivion around you. The past and future vanished. Dane versus Saxon disappeared. The world narrowed down to this….this moment….this moment that you had dreamt of but never thought would come true.

The two of you continued to stand there, lost in one another's eyes with fingers intertwined. Your heart raced within your chest but a cooling breeze swept away the fears that plagued your mind. For staring at him, you knew he spoke no falsehoods. That he owned your heart just as much as you owned his. That very heart you could feel hammering away in his own chest. His eyes fervently held yours, a silent conversation, a confession, spoken only in looks but you both understood the language. His gaze dipped down to your lips, tracing them before slowly rising once again to your eyes. A curl of pleasure blossomed in your core as you witnessed the fire now in his eyes.

"If this Dane wanted to kiss me…. I wouldn't mind."

A deliciously, sinful smirk teased his mouth. "As my lady commands."

His head tilted, leaning towards yours. Unconsciously your eyelids fluttered closed. Then the briefest of touches made your knees weak and your mouth part open in a sigh. After a moment's hesitation, he continued to shower your jawline with kisses. Needing to touch him, your hands landed on his chest, feeling the tunic that covered his firm chest. Your hands moved upward to grasp the back of his neck, his pulse jumping for a second as your nails scraped his skin. His hands landed on the curve of your waist, bringing you even closer to him, erasing the unwanted space between your bodies.

As his lips began their ascent upward along the otherwise of your jaw, you moved. For the burning sparks in your body screamed if he did not kiss you, you would spontaneously combust. Shifting your face, you stole a kiss on his lips before he could place it on your skin. It was more of a gentle pressing of your mouths, but even then, you heard a sharp inhale from him. Before you could question him, his mouth returned to yours with soft, probing kisses that urged you to respond. Not that you would ever deny him. What started off as a gentle flame quickly became a roaring fire. Breathing became unnecessary, for how could air bring you life when your body craved Sihtric, when your lungs demanded to breathe him in instead. He led you in a drugging kiss that had you melting against him. Your lips drank from one another as if that alone could sustain you forevermore.

"THANK YA, GOD!!"

The passionate kiss abruptly ended as Sihtric and your gazes darted towards the side of your house. Only to be met with the sight of his three companions standing at the entrance in various states of smugness.

"Oh, for the love of Odin…." Sihtric mumbled.

You buried your face in Sihtric's chest, face heated in embarrassment but unable to stop the giggles that poured forth. So caught up in finally confessing your feelings and kissing the man who haunted your dreams, you forgot that anyone could walk by and see you. His arms tightened around you, keeping you within his protective, loving embrace….and you knew there was nowhere else you would rather be.

"Took the two of ya long enough." Finan continued, leaning against the side of your humble home with a shit-eating grin.

"Amen." Osferth had a small, teasing smile on his face. "Thought I would have to lock them in a room together before one of them finally confessed."

Apparently, you and Sihtric were not as subtle as you previously thought. Now it made sense why Osferth was questioning you about Cedric and your thoughts on love and marriage earlier. Your heart flooded with gratitude towards your childhood friend, for without him you doubted neither Sihtric or you would have spoken up. Peering over, you caught Osferth's eye and mouthed a quick 'thank you'. He nodded, a simple joy radiating from his face.

"Lord?" Sihtric called over with a blank expression. "Permission to continue?"

Uhtred chuckled. "I guess you've waited long enough. Go ahead."

Without waiting a moment longer, Sihtric tipped your face back up towards his and claimed your lips once more. You vaguely thought you heard laughter coming from the others but it all blurred away, like a faint sound while underwater. All you could see, all you could feel, all you could hear was Sihtric.

Just how you wanted it.

Suddenly you yanked your head back, your breathing labored and lips swollen. "My mother is helping at a nearby farm today. She won't be back until it's dark."

He hummed against your skin trailing small kisses along your jawline and down your neck as if unable to keep his hands and mouth off you now that the dam had been released.

"I'm not as pure as Osferth thinks me to be."

That statement made his actions stop. Carefully he raised his head to meet your gaze. "After dark?" He confirmed, voice rough in a way that sent a bolt of heat through you.

"Yes, she planned on having supper with them….so my home is currently empty….and I did just clean my blankets the other day…."

He swooped in to give you a feverish, greedy kiss that left no doubt where his mind had gone. When he finally pulled back, you were surprised your legs could still hold you upright. Your whole body felt like puddy in his arms and he had only kissed you, albeit you doubted you would ever forget the way his mouth worshiped yours.

"You are certain? You want this?" He softly asked, staring into your eyes once more. "You want me?"

It was the last question, the vulnerable undertone, the hint of insecurity in it that sealed your decision. Letting your actions be your answer, you grabbed his hand and started pulling him in the direction of the door to your home. It did not take more than a second for him to come beside you, wrapping his arm around your waist.

With his taste on your lips, the future did not matter right now. It did not matter that he was Dane and you were not. All you knew was Sihtric was neither a saint nor a sinner, but simply a man deserving of love. The river of your love was pointing you directly towards him, and you silently vowed to never let it run dry.

#ems100 #mzwrites #The Last Kingdom #the last kingdom fanfic #the last kingdom fandom #the last kingdom imagine #sihtric x reader #sihtric kjartansson #Sihtric #sihtric imagine #Uhtred #Uhtred of Bebbanburg #osferth #finan #finan the agile

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rayofsunas · 4 years

Text

s/o goes on a mission with them.

A/n: so, as you may or may not have seen by my recent “updates” I’m obsessed with genshin, and I’m pretty sure for one day I played for a solid 5 hours- my eyes hurt pls. but I did miss writing, I’ve just been unmotivated and busy with college stuff (mainly stressing, I haven’t even started my essay yet shh). n e ways, here’s an update, I hope this quenches your thirst 🙊

Summary: s/o goes on a mission with them.

Parings: Kaeya/Reader, Diluc/Reader, Xiao/Reader, Scaramouche/Reader (all with a fem reader)

Warnings: crack, swearing, worrying Teyvat bois

Word count: 1.7k

Kaeya

when you’re assigned to be on a mission just the two of you, you assume he’s happy, and don’t get me wrong, he totally is!

usually you’re never on missions together, deciding it was better that way because you both get distracted (you realized after marrying, space was always nice too, space was healthy)

though the decision mainly came about because you two good around a lot... and other things 😏

no but deep down he’s worried when you go on this mission together, it’s been a while since the two of you have, a little too long, and the nerves came back

he’s always worried whenever you go on missions, and sure he’ll always be there to protect you when he’s with you (not that you need it) but anything can happen

sure taking out a bunch of Hilichurls was deemed easy, especially together, but he still worried

he never said a word about it though, he’d always keep a watchful eye on you (he does have a reputation to keep after all)

“Ya know, you did well today.” You said plopping down beside your husband, using your pyro ability to light the twigs and leaves in front of you.

“Of course I did,” he boasted, eye lighting up in the dark of the night. “What kind of Knight would I be if I hadn’t, babe.”

You groaned in annoyance, this was the ever so haughty husband you knew.

“Please, I could’ve easily wiped your ass if it weren’t for the fact that we haven’t been paired together in a while; I forgot about your skill.” You teased. The cryo user glared at you.

“Skill? Surely, I have more than one.” He snipped teasingly. Your head shook, feigning innocence. “Are you sure?” A hum sounded in your throat. “I couldn’t tell... Maybe if you hadn’t been staring holes into me every time I used my sword, I could see your progression.”

Kaeya visibly tensed, but he tried to make it go unnoticed, you saw his shoulders raise slightly.

“Hmm?” You laughed wholeheartedly.

“Don’t ‘hmm’ me, mister.”

Despite having been caught, a grin spread across his face, he was enjoying your teasing tonight it seemed.

“There’s a reason we don’t go on missions together, but, I did have fun with you today, despite the worrying part.”

Diluc

um, the ever so stoic and emotionless fire boy is WORRIED AF

and he accidentally lets it show

he’s totally fine if you’re only going against a few low-rank Hilichurls and Slime, but against any of the Hypostasis’s, he’s worried for your wellbeing (after a few days of trying to beat one of the Hypostasis’s I finally did, APPLAUD ME PLS, I was crying)

the very first mission you went on together, the job was done quickly and without much trouble, but before and after, he would not stop asking you if you would like to be escorted back to the Knights headquarters

he said it was his duty to protect any and every Mondstadt Citizen

you knew he was also just particularly worried about you

despite being worried, he is happy you’re here, though wishes it were under different circumstances other than battle

he rarely sees you, so it’s a nice change to be placed on a mission together instead of alone, you missed each others company

BUT HE’S STILL WORRIED

“I’m a Knight of Favonius, I don’t particularly need to be escorted back, I appreciate your concern though.” Poor Diluc, the face he made looked like pure defeat, you used the Knight of Favonius card on him. And yes, you were capable, but he did know a certain Knights of Favonius Captain who he loathed a little too much,

“That’s why I’m worried.”

You scoffed at his jab, though it didn’t necessarily hurt too much.

“Please, I can handle myself. We’re not all like Captain Kaeya, but even then give him some credit!”

“I know you’re more than capable but-”

”No buts! Let me do what I know how, please. Or else I could slip up, and then actually put myself in danger.”

“Okay...” You nodded, sending a soft thanks to your lover's way, but he just stared at you before muttering, “But let me escort you back to Mondstadt.”

👁 👄 👁

“I’m sorry, did you hear a word I just said?”

“I see your skills darling, but-” He paused, noticing how your arms folded across your chest. You were annoyed. “I’d much prefer if you took care of the greatest battle of all; Kaeya.”

“Kaeya does not need my assistance.”

“He’s probably in a ditch somewhere, and it would be much appreciated by Jean if we did not leave him to rot there,” Diluc explained.

You had seen Kaeya earlier, and yes although he usually frequented the bars and whatnot, he was surprisingly sober. He hadn’t promised he would stay that way, but it would take hours for said man to get completely drunk to the point where he was immobile. You had only left Mondstadt four hours ago.

“Amber can find him. She did last time,” He watched in disbelief as you sauntered off towards the hill in front of you, dead set on continuing your mission. “Come on I see an Electro Hypostasis ahead.”

“Also, you could’ve just said you were worried about me, instead of trying to send me back home! Kaeya is fine, worrywart.”

Xiao

it’s not that he’s worried about you and it’s not that he shouldn’t be worried either

he can be both given the right moment

the only reason he doesn’t want you going with him is because he claims he focuses better on missions alone

you could understand where he was coming from, but you would’ve liked to have gone with him when he first left

you mentioned going on a mission with him in Liyue the night before he locked you in your Liyue Harbor Guesthouse room

you were still asleep when he’d snuck out and had found a note in the sheets where he’d previously been sleeping hours ago

it read, went on a quick mission, be back soon. - Xiao

...one of the cleaning ladies had come to your rescue after seeing various lounge chairs from the hallway stacked and pushed against the door (she was supposed to clean the room that morning after having seen Xiao leaving, figuring it was empty to begin cleaning)

she was shocked to see you hurriedly throwing your shoes on and grabbing your spear, confused obviously

she’d asked if you were being held against your will or if you were in danger, but you’d dashed off before you could give her an answer

eventually after asking a few Liyue Harbor Merchants, you were able to get a rough estimate as to where your boyfriend went

when you finally caught up to him, out of breath, he was somewhat shocked to see you

“Hey!” You called after the ancient man, watching with glee as he turned around with wide eyes. “Locking me in the room seriously?”

“I didn’t think you’d catch up. I left hours ago.”

“I thought so too. But one of the Merchants gave me a shortcut to your destination.”

“Interesting.” He said, hand going to his chin in thought.

“That’s it? That’s all you have to say?!”

“Interesting.” You mocked

He stared blankly, without a doubt the gears working in his brain, spinning and ticking at an unbelievable rate.

“No, one more thing... How did you get out of the room? I barricaded it.”

👁 👄 👁

Scaramouche

you better be someone who can handle yourself, and you probably are, or else he would not be able to stand being with you romantically AT ALL

he’s had you practice with him, just to show him what you’re capable of, before he ever allowed you to travel with him

after deeming you a worthy opponent, he decided you would fair well with him

he would’ve never allowed you to come if he knew you’d be a burden, slow him, or get hurt

after you proved yourself, he does not doubt you so he’s not going to be worried at all

he’s only worried if you start slowing him down, then he’ll think you’re incompetent to be traveling together

if you slow him down, you’re being sent home, no questions asked

though because he does love you, you receive a bit of a less severe punishment for doing something wrong on a mission

he may ask you once or twice to keep up with him, or take your enemies out without less hesitation, but that’s if he feels particularly generous, most of the times he’s harsh and will not tolerate your mistakes, no chances given

fortunately for you, he felt extremely generous today

It was truly evident that you were slowly pissing off the sixth Harbinger and he was losing his patience with you. Yet you continued flirting with him to get a rise out of said man (yeah, same); he often reacted, and you enjoyed it when he did. You liked seeing him react and appear differently than always being so uptight and mean.

It was a common belief that he often traveled with a young woman, who had Pyro for a vision, and she was strong but often loved to distract and tease her fellow Harbinger. You were not so surprisingly, that young woman.

“Keep up, I won’t ask you again.”

Today, you were on a mission together which wasn’t rare, but your other mission was to piss him off as much as you could. So, you purposely walked behind him, very slow. Pretending to take in the chilly scenery of Snezhnaya, although you had seen it thousands of times, acting as if it was something new.

“You said that the last two times.” You said, cheerfully laughing to yourself when you heard him growl lowly. He didn’t pay any mind to your retort but began showing more signs that he was aggravated.

He hissed, “There’s not much to admire, you can barely see.” Yes, he was right, he’d caught onto your antics very fast, but that didn’t matter.

“As I said, if you keep slowing me down, I’ll continue without you.” Your eyes rolled. Would he?

“Leaving a member of the Harbinger behind wouldn’t be very honorary, but if I must, I will.”

A pout took shape on your lips. “Please, you wouldn’t leave your lovely girlfriend out here to freeze would you?”

“You have pyro abilities, you would fair just fine.”

“Hmm... I suppose so, but I’d get lonely.”

“Then be quiet and walk faster.”

1.13.21, rayofsunas

#rayofsunas #genshin #genshin impact #kaeya #kaeya x reader #diluc #diluc x reader #xiao #xiao x reader #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #genshin imagines #genshin impact x reader

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britishassistant · 3 years

Note

What happens if a new villain comes to town and starts tearing shit up? Like a new rival shows up, falls in love with yuu, and kidnaps them before enacting a huge take over the city scheme, will the NRC and RSA finally come together for the same goal? Or would it lead to chaotic in-fighting in their individual attempts to rescue the reporter and save the city/stop this jerk face from showing them up only for yuu to break out just so they can knock them all upside the head?

Thank you for the ask, dear anon!

“It’s so simple, love.” The villain coos, one hand cupping Yuu’s chin gently to tilt their face up, “Just accept my proposal, and we won’t need to have any nasty accidents where you and the tarmac down there have a...terminal disagreement.”

Yuu glances down at the drop from where they’ve been “tied” to the top of the skyscraper by the metal beams that the supervillain bent around their body like they were rubber. They think they can see a flock of pigeons flapping by below them. “That’s your idea of a threat? Really? Because I’ve heard worse over breakfast. Sorry, but I really don’t think we have the right chemistry to accept marriage to the likes of you.”

The villain pouts, leaning against the tip of the building as if they were a pair of people chatting on the streets far below, and not one hapless captive tied to an antenna and their captor floating with nary a second thought in midair. “Oh c’mon now love. Don’t make this more difficult than it has to be—you know that I could do far better with your Daddy’s little league than any of those second-rate bozos crowding around you.”

The reporter’s gaze sharpens, the corner of their mouth curling up in a snarl. “Don’t. Refer to them. Like that. They’re each seven times the supervillain you are, at least. Besides, I’d rather be turned into pancake mix on the pavement than do anything that could advance that man’s little projects.”

The villain tuts, coiffed hair ruffled by the breeze as he leans in far closer than Yuu is comfortable with. “Don’t play hard to get, love. So you’ve got Daddy issues, who doesn’t? It’s no reason to get in the way of progress. Maybe you’ll change your mind if I show you exactly what I can offer...”

Yuu recoils as the villain’s tongue forces its way into their mouth when their lips collide with all the force of a car crash, an invasive writhing thing that makes them gag at how far it pushes in as the villain hums greedily at their taste.

And one that the reporter swiftly brings their teeth down on.

Hard.

“FUCK! Ugh—you foul little bitch!!”

The backhand jars the reporter’s skull even as they brace for it, cutting the inside of their mouth and leaving them worried that if they try spitting out the blood gathering there, they’ll lose a tooth along with it.

The villain huffs, one hand carding through his ruffled hair. His tongue is already whole and unblemished, the last indents of their teeth healing as the reporter watches. “I didn’t want to do this, you know. I would’ve gladly taken you to the altar, and had you screaming in our wedding bed. I could’ve made you happy, if you’d just do what you’re told.”

Yuu sneers. “Frankly, I can’t imagine anything more boring.”

They take cold comfort in the fury that burns in the supervillain’s eyes at that.

“Fine. Fine.” The villain floats away, his eyes glowing that same bright red that melted through the wall to Yuu’s bedroom when they were first taken. “I was prepared to do this the nice way. I wanted to do this the nice way. But if you’re going to be such a little bitch about it, then I can always rely on the old fashioned method of succession.”

The laser beams swipe through the block of abandoned offices four stories below where the reporter is tied up.

The top of the building wavers, then begins to crumble forwards.

The villain says something else, probably something mocking and challenging them to get out of this mess because that’s the kind of cliche line that’s always used here, but Yuu can’t hear him over the whistle of the wind in their ears and the scream torn from their throat as they plummet.

They try frantically tug their arms free as their legs are pulled upwards by gravity, try their damndest to squirm free, but it’s no use, they’re not The Prefect right now, don’t even have the fedora on them, they’re Yuu, just Yuu, just helpless reporter Yuu, who can’t break steel beams with their pathetic powerless normal person strength, they’re going to die, they’re going to die, they’re going to die, they’re going to die, they’re going to die, they’re going to die, they’re going to die, they’re going to die, they’re going to die, oh Great Seven, they’re going to die—!

“KING'S ROAR!!!”

There’s a discombobulating moment of freefall as the metal and concrete around them disintegrates into sand.

Then a strong, wiry arm loops around their waist and they’re pinned to a carpet as their rapid descent gradually slows to a stop in midair.

“Need a lift?” They can’t see Snake Charmer’s eyebrows through the mask, but they get the feeling one of them is raised in a wry fashion as he smirks at them.

The reporter lets out a hysterical, shaky laugh that only narrowly escapes becoming a sob, trembling hands seizing onto the two supervillains like they’re lifelines. “Wh-what took y-you so long? Did you ge-get held up in traffic?”

King grumbles, flicking their temple gently as Water Boy laughs gleefully from where he’s steering the carpet. “You could show a little more gratitude, herbivore. Do you know how hard it was to evade all the goody-two-shoes on the way here to save your ass?”

Yuu’s about to reply, when they catch a movement above them out of the corner of their eye.

“INCOMING!!”

Water Boy jerks the flying carpet to the side just in time for the villain to plunge past them fist-first, close enough to see his teeth bared in a furious snarl.

“DRIVE!!” Snake Charmer screams at his lieutenant above the rushing wind as the villain rises back up to try his luck again. Water Boy presses the corners of the carpet forwards and they go into a rollercoaster dive that makes the reporter’s stomach roil in protest.

King unleashes his powers on the two buildings behind them, disintegrating the foundations in hopes that the tonnes of concrete and rebar would be enough to slow the flying brick chasing them. The villain just bursts through the obstacles with nary a broken sweat, and speeds up to the point where Water Boy has to turn the carpet upside down so they don’t get knocked out of the sky.

“Where the fuck is that computer junkie?!?” King yells at Snake Charmer as they draw dangerously close to the road below. “He was supposed to be here hours ago!!”

“How am I supposed to know?!” They can hear Snake Charmer’s heartbeat hammer in his chest from where he’s pinning them to the vehicle in the absence of a seatbelt. “It was the conman who was meant to give him the si—”

Yuu can barely scream a warning in time as the villain looms behind Leona’s head, eyes glowing red and ready.

A rush of flying metal harpies collide with the bastard’s face, effectively pinning him in midair as he struggles to destroy the thousands-strong swarm that obstructs his path to them.

“OPEN FIRE!!” Comes Hermes’ high-pitched cry as a blue beam shoots past them at the center of the robotic maelstrom.

A pair of red lasers rocket out to meet it, almost seeming as though it could push Ortho’s assault back—!

A white-hot streak of lightening descends from the formerly clear sky to where the villain was pinned, disrupting the red eye lasers and allowing Hermes’ beam to make contact.

There’s a hideous scream and the stench of burnt meat.

“We’re coming in too fast!!” Water Boy yells, tugging on the carpet’s tassels until they’re almost vertical. “Ja—I, I don’t know if we’ll slow down in time!!”

Yuu barely hears the curses the other two occupants spit, lunging to try and cover as much of them as they can with their body. Even if they crash, if Yuu can just absorb most of the shock of the landing—!

Small pinpricks of pain latch onto their scalp, their pajamas, the carpet and supervillains beneath them, hundreds of small beating appendages smacking them all in the face as the carpet’s rapid descent slows incrementally.

“Oh boys~?”

Four sets of strong hands seize the front of the carpet, their owners grunting as they attempt to force the carpet’s stop through sheer force. Of course, the continued existence of Newton’s Third Law combined with the reporter’s precarious shielding position means that though the carpet experiences sudden stop, Yuu keeps going at the same high speed that will ensure serious injury once they hit the tarmac.

Or it would do, if they didn’t collide with a solid chest and waiting pair of arms first.

The reporter finds themselves cradled in a nearly crushing grip, their catcher muttering “child of man, child of man,” into the top of their head and a warm thumb swipes over the rapidly darkening bruise on their cheek. The wind picks up around them alarmingly, whipping into a gale.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, I’m okay.” Yuu reaches up to pat Tsunotaro’s head soothingly. “See? Just a few scrapes and a little scare. Give me an ice pack and a shower and I’ll be right as rain.”

Tsunotaro doesn’t look very convinced, but at least the wind drops to more of a strong breeze.

“Oi, let ‘em down, you dumb lizard.” King growls behind the reporter, the rings on his tail clattering as it swishes irritably. “We did all the work of saving them, you don’t get to take the rewards.”

Tsunotaro clutches them closer, getting that stubborn look in his eyes that makes Yuu want to groan in exasperation. “No.”

“Why you—!”

“Now, now children, the world works in mysterious ways.” Batman beams. “I’ve always found destiny draws those it finds most suitable together.”

The reporter rolls their eyes as King snarls in response to that remark and Snake Charmer mutters, “I didn’t know ‘destiny’ was what you called interfering old fools.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” Snake Charmer climbs off the carpet and straightens his headscarf. “What’s next?”

There’s a crash as the mass of robots pinning the singed villain about three blocks down the street begins to shift, however unwillingly.

“‘Kay, the ‘save the princess’ team barely cleared the parameters for their part of the mission.” Charon’s floating tablet drifts forward, the sounds of frantic tapping on a keyboard almost drowning out his voice. “Now it’s time for the ‘aggro’ and ‘debuff’ teams to move in, Tsuntaro-sshi, Royal-sshi.”

“Understood. I’ll leave the coordinating of the others to you, Charon.” Royal Flush looks up and raises an unimpressed eyebrow at the tall fae. “Well? Are you coming?”

Yuu could almost swear they hear a small grumble as Tsunotaro finally lets them down out of his grasp. He runs his thumb over their injured cheek one last time. “Sebek, Silver. Defend the reporter as you would me.”

“Yes, Tsunotaro-sama!” The two of them chorus.

Royal Flush shakes his head, then reaches out and squeezes Yuu’s hand once. “If anything happens, Three of Clovers and Howl-san will get you somewhere safe. But this shouldn’t take long.”

“Oi, don’t presume to give orders to my minion, Flush.” King growls, inserting himself bodily between the two of them. His mouth curls up in a smirk as he places a proprietary hand on top of their head. “Besides, I’ll be here, won’t I?”

Royal Flush and Tsunotaro narrow their eyes at him, but their attention is claimed by the sound of metal crashing down the street as the villain shrugs off the rubble, the burns on his arms and face healing rapidly as they watch. His eyes flicker over their motley group, before settling on Yuu with laser-precision.

It’s only the arrow that flies into his shoulder, combined with a second lightening bolt striking him from the blue that keeps that metaphor from becoming literal.

Yuu chokes a little at the pressure on their pajama shirt collar as they’re dragged out of the line of fire. From where they’re crouched behind a car, they can see Tsunotaro and Hermes throwing almost everything he’s got as the bastard, while Royal tries to close the distance without ending up attacked himself. They also catch a glimpse of who they think is Leviathan silently gliding closer through the alleys on the far side of the street.

But the villain just won’t stop getting back up. Despite the fact that anyone sane would’ve given up the moment the green flames were broken out, he keeps coming, no matter how many times he gets thrown back.

And he’s clearly getting closer to the reporter he so desperately wants to kill.

“Now what?” Yuu asks, barely able to hear themselves think over the worried growl rumbling from Jack’s chest.

Charon’s muttering to himself as more of his robots fly by overhead. “Need to pin down the rate of regen, if we can get that and surpass it so the ‘debuff’ team can do their thing before the second wave gets here, but what is it?”

The reporter blinks. Well, taking into account the insult, and the backhand...

“He was able to heal his tongue about...four, maybe five seconds after I’d bitten through it? That’s only a rough estimate though, it may’ve been shorter.” They murmur.

The area around them goes very quiet.

“B-bitten through...?” Water Boy asks, hand coming up to his own mouth with a wince.

Yuu scowls. “That creep put it in my mouth when I did not ask him to. Ugh, I would’ve gone for his balls too, but the metal didn’t let me lift my legs that far.”

They huff for a moment at the unfairness of it. Then, “King, stop grinning at me like that.”

“Like what herbivore?” His tone is the picture of innocence, even if the way he’s eying them is most decidedly not.

Snake Charmer ‘accidentally’ kicks him in the shin as the sound of frantic typing erupts from the tablet again. “Setting the Erinyes to follow up on Ortho’s and Tsunotaro-sshi’s attacks within a three point five second time frame...fwe he he he, let’s see how that mob likes this!”

With the clack of what sounds like an enter key, the robots above them begin divebombing the villain in sequence, deliberately targeting the parts of him injured by Tsunotaro and Hermes’ blows.

One of them sacrifices itself in a kamikaze dive that leaves a bleeding scratch on his arm.

The villain roars, the force of his fury almost knocking them over even with how far away their little group is crouched, turning the lasers on every robot within his line of sight.

Of course, this means he stops paying attention to the three supervillains who have been steadily making their way towards him.

“FAIREST ONE OF ALL!”

“IT’S A DEAL!”

“OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!”

The powers hit the villain one after another, his lasers sputtering out with a pained scream. The scratch on his arm doesn’t start healing. Neither does the gash he gets across his face when Poison Queen roundhouse kicks him away with those stilettos of his.

“Was that it?” Leviathan says, his careless facade somewhat ruined by the fact that he wobbles as he begins to levitate. “I must confess I don’t understand what all the tr-trouble was.”

A low whistle by their ear makes Yuu jump. “The bosses can be scary when they wanna be. Remind me never to piss off those three at once.”

The reporter look up to see Ace and Floyd standing behind them. “Ace, wha—where have you been?!”

Floyd giggles and Ace shoots them an evil grin as they chorus, “Sending out party invites~”

Yuu blinks and tries to puzzle out this cryptic phrase, but their attention is swiftly drawn back to the scene of the battle at the sound of manic, unhinged laughter.

“You think you’ve won? You think something like this will stop me?!” The villain cackles, eyes wild and beginning to grow red again despite the way his body tenses and the collar around his neck starts to buckle. “You think that second-rate half-hearted hacks like you can stop someone like me?!? I am your superior!! You all will bend the knee once I snap that ungrateful little bitch’s neck and take my rightful place as head of the League!!! I’ll decimate every last one of those pathetic, moronic heroes who pollute this city like a fungus!! And then, oh , and then I’ll make every last one of you who thought they could get away with this pitiable attempt to stop me—”

“Us? Here to stop you?” Poison Queen tilts his head. “Don’t be ridiculous. We’re supervillains.”

“Stopping the likes of you.” Leviathan proclaims triumphantly, “Is their job.”

The villain stops.

The villain turns.

Over half the top heroes of the Royal Sword Association lead here by the minions meet his gaze.

“Hello.” Niko Niko Neko says with a wide grin.

Yuu isn’t close enough to hear if the villain whimpers, but they almost wish they were.

Almost.

417 notes · View notes

hallelujahmeatgod · 3 years

Text

HAIKYUU CHARACTERS WHEN YOU PRANK THEM TELLING THEM YOU DON’T WANT TO SHARE A STRAW

+warning/s: There’s really none, just cursing is all.

+word count: 2227

+note: The characters are very random because they’re the first ones I had an idea for. I want to write for the other ones too, so please do tell me what you guys think about this one.

KUROO

"What did you just say?" He asked, eyes wide from shock.

"I said, grab another straw if you want to take a sip of my drink. I don't want to share a straw." I said, as calmly as I can, immediately looking away from him. Because Lord knows I just want to laugh at his dumbfounded face right now.

He gave me a sarcastic laugh. A laugh that says "are you serious right now?"

I raised a brow at him acting like I don't have a clue as to why he's acting the way he is.

And that was the last straw for him.

"So you literally shove your tongue down my throat and you wouldn't share a straw with me? What's that about?" He said angrily, looking at me with daggers in his eyes.

I laughed and instantly covered his mouth, looking around at the café. "Bitch, shut your mouth. I was just playing with you." I whisper-yelled, while trying to control my laughter.

He rolled his eyes and snatched away my drink. Muttering a "not funny" under his breath, as I continue laughing at him.

KIYOOMI

"Can I try yours?" Omi asked calmly.

I nodded, but before he could grab my drink I pulled it back a bit. "Oh-- can you not use my straw though?" I said as innocently as I can.

He rolled his eyes at me then scoffed. I thought he's actually gonna get riled up, but that's until he said "Brave of you to assume that I'll share a straw with you."

I gave him a dumb look. What?

He raised his brows at me, a sly smirk making its way to his lips. "I'm literally afraid of all kinds of germs, and you are no exception."

Did I really just forget that I'm in a relationship with a germaphobe?

"Whatever" I said, pouting.

I handed him a new straw but then he gave me a look of disgust.

Can I be any more disgusting to this guy?

"Now you're trying to give me a plastic straw? You turtle murderer! Get that animosity away from me." He said, as he dramatically whipped a metal one from his bag.

Just how many does he have in his bag?

"Now, repent from your sins and start using this babe."

BOKUTO

"WHAT?!" His dramatic ass yelled.

"Sit your ass down, right now!" I ordered like a mom.

I pulled him back beside me on the couch as he looked at me sadly.

"What do you mean we can't share a straw? We kiss all the time though and we share more saliva doing that than just sharing a straw." He pouted.

Which is so cute that I had to stop myself from just pinching his cheeks and hugging him.

"I just don't want to share a straw today, okay? Just get another one. I have some in one of the drawers in the kitchen." I said, scrolling through my phone so that it'll seem like it's not a big deal.

I kept on scrolling, but then I realized after a while that he's still beside me.

When I looked at him, I KID YOU NOT, there's tears welling on his eyes threatening to fall. His lips even quivering as he tried holding back the tears.

I instantly held his face and pulled him close. "Oh my, Bo, what's wrong?"

When asked he became more emotional and the tears finally fell. "You wouldn't share a straw with me." He said, sobbing. So I pulled him into a hug.

"Bo, stop crying. I was literally just joking, no need to cry you big baby." I said, chuckling lightly as I ruffled his hair.

He instantly pulled away, looking at me expectantly. "Huh? You're not for real? I can use your straw? You're not disgusted?" He asked and I nodded, giving him a warm smile.

He jumped at me and gave me a bear hug. "I don't like that joke though" He said, pulling away enough so he could look at me.

"I'm sorry, Bo. I won't do it again."

"YAYYYYYY!" He exclaimed, as snot trickled down from his nose. This kid.

"Let's wipe that snot away first though before you come close to my straw, yeah?"

OIKAWA

(Now this is about to turn into a soap opera. Everyone knows this dude is the queen of all drama queens)

"Tooru, baby, use another straw." I said, not even sparing him a glance. Eyes focused on the anime we’re watching.

No reply. No reaction. No movements for a solid moment.

Eventually, he sighed then stood up. I heard him shuffling around so I thought he's actually gonna grab a straw for himself. Y'know, be compliant for once?

But since we're talking about a professional drama queen here, that obviously isn't happening. Duh.

"28th of August, in the year of the Lord. It's a warm afternoon, an afternoon filled with sunlight. Everything's bright, sunny, and happy. But just as everything is fitting into place, everything turned dark '' He monologues, standing at my balcony.

Oh Lord, save me.

"It is on that one afternoon, that Oikawa Tooru's heart has been shattered into million little pieces. It's shattered so good that no glue, not even E6000 glue, can put it back together." He continued, fake crying. Looking back at me once in a while to see if I'm looking at his drama. Then just exaggerating even more, putting his all into it.

I rolled my eyes at him, completely done with him.

"I thought there was love. I thought we felt the same way, that we're on the same page. But I was greatly mistaken! Nothing's fine. I'm torn. I'm all out of faith and this is how I feel. I'm cold and I'm ashamed, not lying naked on the floor-- but I'll think about it. Illusions never change into something real--"

"DUMBASS JUST TAKE A FUCKING SIP. JUST SHUT UP"

And that's all that needs to be said. He darted towards me and easily drank half of my drink, cuddling next to me.

"Now is that hard? It isn't right?" He teased, which earned him a solid smack on the head.

ASAHI

"Grab another straw for you to use, Asahi" I called out to him as he stood up to get some more snacks after he announced that he wanted to try my drink.

"What did I do this time?" He asked quietly when he got back, dropping the snacks on the table.

"What do you mean? Did you do anything?" I asked him back.

He crouched down in front of me so we're at eye level. "You just told me to use another straw. So what did I do, woman?"

At this I immediately broke into a fit of laughter, which made him confused yet concerned.

"You're scaring me right now babe."

"Ohhh~ Asahi, you really are too precious."

"Are you being sarcastic right now? Is that you getting more angry at me for whatever reason? Wait! Are you actually angry at me? What did I do--"

"YO! Breathe." I clamped a hand on his mouth. "Who said I was angry?"

"Well you don't wanna share a straw so I'm assuming you hate me right now" He shrugged.

I ruffled his hair and lightly pinched his cheek.

"I was just messing with you, so no need to be a panic mess." I reassured, caressing his face ever so softly.

His face instantly calmed as he leaned onto my hand. "Don't do that. You know I panic easily over the smallest things. I was about to have a heart attack." he pouted.

I kissed his cheek and offered him my drink, and he happily took a sip.

"Wait till Daichi hears this" I chuckled, earning a groan from him as he hid his face from me.

KAGEYAMA

I'm getting so impatient.

Impatient for Kageyama to ask for a sip of my drink so I can mess with him.

Why wouldn't he just ask? He kept on eyeing it yet still wouldn't ask for a sip.

"You know, eyeing my drink like that wouldn't make you taste it. If you want a sip, get another straw." I said as if I don't care, when in reality I'm watching his every move and expression.

His eyes then diverted from the drink to me, raising a brow. What's he raising his brow for?

"Bold of you to assume I'd like any of that." He said lazily.

Me=Jaw dislocated.

I looked at him not knowing what to say. What does he mean?

"Huh?" Was all my dumbass could muster.

"As if I'd drink that '' He said, sticking out his tongue in disgust. He took a sip from his milk and smiled, completely satisfied. "I'm all good with my milk, it makes my bones stronger. You can close your mouth now."

"B-but you kept on eyeing it"

"Yeah I did. Cause I was asking myself how someone can even consider that a drink."

USHIJIMA

"Can I please have a small sip of your drink? That seems like a new flavor I have yet to try. So if you don't mind." Ushijima asked beside me, looking straight into my eyes as he did so.

Does he really have to be this serious and proper asking for a sip?

I'll never understand how his robotic self works, but I still love it though. I actually find it cute, so it took a lot from me to not break character.

"Sure thing. Just get yourself a new straw." I said, pushing my drink towards him.

I can see he's quite surprised by that since he didn't just do it right away. He gave me a look but then again didn't really say anything. He stood up from our booth and went to get a new straw.

I almost facepalmed when he did so, but then again what was I expecting? That he'd go crazy over it? That he'd have a big reaction? This is Ushijima we're talking about. The only time you'll see a big reaction from him is when that kid Hinata goes head to head with him or when he sees Oikawa CAUSE WHY THE HECK DIDN'T YOU ATTEND SHIRATORIZAWA, DUMMY!

Ushijima is very simple and calm, so he doesn't make a fuss about things easily.

When he got back he just silently put his straw in and took a sip. "That's quite good but not as good as the one you always get." He said honestly. Typical Ushijima.

We were silent for a little bit. Usually I'd be talking his ears off by now with all the gossip I've found out. But I'm still a tiny bit down because of his lack of reaction.

"You're weird today" He said out of the blue.

"What?" I asked, choking a bit from my drink.

Lost. That's what I am. He doesn't really blurt out things like that. I mean, yeah, if he finds something weird, mostly if you're asking him about it he'll say it's weird. But he doesn't really just blurt it out the way he just did.

"You never had problems sharing with me. You don't mind me biting into your food, drinking from your bottle, making me eat the ice cream when you only want the cone, yet you made me get a new straw. It's just new, I guess. That's why it's kind of weird."

He said calmly and I can tell that he's genuinely calm. Like he isn't trying to be calm or he's mad deep down. He's simply sharing his thoughts.

"So you did notice." I pouted. He looked at me and nodded for me to continue talking. "I was actually just doing this thing I saw on YouTube, telling your boyfriend you don't wanna share a straw."

"Oh" He nodded in understanding. "No wonder you're weird today. You'd never do that." He actually said in a very humorous tone, with a small smile on his face.

I beamed and sat closer to him, resting my head on his arm. "Sorry for that."

He shook his head and gave me head pats. "It's fine. And of course I'd notice, I prefer it when you share with me, it makes me feel closer to you. And you've always been sweet to me even though I can't do it well, so I instantly caught on to it."

"You're sweet in your own unique way, more than you realize, Ushi" I said, smiling at him. He returned the smile with an even bigger one. My heart is about to burst, it's not everyday I see this guy grin like this. This smile might be a small one to others but for me this is a whole ass beam!

"Can we share properly now?" He asked, very VERY cutely. It almost brought tears to my eyes. And when I say cutely I mean him just looking at me seriously. In conclusion whatever this giant does I find cute, okay? I'm whipped and I'll even write it on my forehead if I have to.

"By all means"

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supercorpkid · 3 years

Note

hai!! im LOVING that i found this gem of an account of yours 🤩 could i request a scenario where supercorp's reaction to their daughter cutting their hair really short,, (girl crush vibes)?? I'm loving your works the more i read!!

YAY!!! That makes me so happy to hear it!

Here’s how I think they would react like. Thanks for the prompt!

Haircut

Word Count: 1510.

“I wanna cut my hair.” You announce, walking in the kitchen and both Lena and Kara raise their eyes at you.

“Ok. I’ll get the red sun lamps and the scissors.” Kara agrees, motioning to leave.

“No, no.” You stop her before she leaves. “It’s nothing you can do.”

“Kid, I’ve been cutting your hair since you were born. I can do anything.” Kara says and you raise an eyebrow at her.

“Really?” She agrees with her head. “Then why do I have the same haircut ever since I was two?”

“That’s not-” Kara starts, but Lena cuts her off.

“It’s true. You basically only trim her bangs and sometimes the tips.”

“See.” You point at Lena. “I want a different haircut. I want it to be very very short.”

“But you have such pretty hair. Why would you do that?” Kara asks, looking confused. “Next thing you’ll say is that you grew out of bangs.”

“I did grow out of bangs, but there’s not much I can do except wait for it to grow now.” You shrug. “But the hair, yeah, I want to change it.”

“But-but-but” Kara says with tears in her eyes. You look at Lena.

“You know, maybe it’s not a good idea to cut your hair, baby. Wouldn’t it be weird if both Superkid and you got a haircut at the same time?” Lena asks, you first roll your eyes as a response, then you add.

“Superkid doesn’t exist anymore. Besides, didn’t Kara Danvers and Supergirl get bangs at the same time and no one noticed, including you?”

“I’ve noticed.” Lena mumbles. “I just didn’t want to comment on it because I thought it would be impolite.”

“Telling momma she got the same haircut as Supergirl would be impolite?”

“Yeah, and that she was too old for bangs.” Lena shrugs, making Kara snap her head up and look at her.

“What?” Kara furrows her brows at Lena. “I looked great in bangs! Here’s proof!” She points at your hair, and you sigh.

“Ok, whatever. Nevermind.”

But it’s not really whatever. And you might have said nevermind to them, but you mind. You really do mind.

Vou: Hey! Can you do me a solid?

Aunt Alex: What do you need?

You: Can I meet you at the DEO?

Aunt Alex: I’m here!

It takes you a while to get there. You must say, sometimes you miss being Superkid, just because it was so much easier to move around town. Oh, and much faster than a bus.

“Hey!” Alex greets you when you walk in the DEO. “It took you a while.”

“Yeah, I flew here on a bus.”

She laughs, rolling her eyes at your very Kara-like joke. “What do you need?

“Can you cut my hair?” She looks lost at the question, so you decide to give her more information. “You know, red sun emulator and scissors?”

“Right.” Alex agrees, making her way to where the red sun lamp is kept. “Doesn’t Kara usually cut your hair?”

“Usually, yeah. But I want to change styles a little. I was thinking more like 2015 Alex and less like 2020 Kara .”

“That’s a big change. Are they ok with it?”

“Aunt Alex-” You put a hand on her shoulder. “I’m 16. I’ve saved National City a few times. I think I can choose my own hairstyle.”

“Ok, kiddo.” Alex points at the chair. “Let’s do it! I’m up for you looking more like me! And my hair in 2015 was a look.”

You sit on the chair and Alex turns the red sun lamp on, so it dampens your powers. You give her a thumbs up and an excited smile.

Forget about the fact that you’re cutting half of your hair, because you think it would make it harder for people to recognize you. Forget about the fact that you believe it could take the weight off your shoulders. If glasses had been your disguise for years now, maybe a new haircut can buy you some time before people remember about your existence.

You shouldn’t focus on that. You should focus on the excitement that change brings into a person’s life. And maybe this outside change can help you with your inside change too.

“Ok. Oh my God, I swear you look like a total badass.” Alex puts the scissor down and you look to the floor and see big chunks of your hair lost in there. Ok. You hope she’s right. “Here, look.”

Alex raises the mirror in front of your face, and you smile at yourself. Perfect. You not only look like a total badass, but somehow you also don’t look like yourself.

“It’s perfect.” You stand up from the chair, throwing your arms around her. “Thanks aunt Alex. You’re the best. I’m gonna go show Jamie.”

“Yeah, sure. I’m here for you, kiddo.”

So far the reactions to your new haircut have been:

Alex: You look like a total badass.

Kelly: Oh, wow. You look so fancy with this new hairstyle!

Jamie: Oh my God. OH MY GOD! You don’t even look like a dipshit anymore! I love it!

Maya: Uh. You-You-Uh-How-Oh God, it’s hot in here, isn’t it? Babe, you look so good it’s hard to get my words out.

And now, onto your moms reaction:

“Hey babygirl, where were y-'' Lena looks at you with incredulity in her eyes. “You cut your hair.”

“Mhm.” You walk past her, pretending it’s not a big deal. Lena holds your arm before you move away.

“Let me look at you.” She asks, and you stop, staring at her with an expectant smile. Her hands go to your hair, as she feels them on her hands, twisting a lock on her fingers, then putting it behind your ear. “You look beautiful, baby.”

“You think so?” You ask, with a bigger smile now.

“You always look beautiful.” She holds your head and kisses your forehead.

“Do you think momma will like it too?”

Lena furrows her brows. “What? Where did you get a haircut if not with Kara?” Eyes wide. “Don’t tell me you went to a hair salon.”

“No! Mom, come on. It was aunt Alex.” You give her a reassuring smile.

“Alex did this? Huh. Can’t believe I’ve been flying to Paris to have my hair cut when she can do stuff like that to one’s hair.”

“Hey love! Oh, and who’s that?” Kara asks, coming inside the house from the backyard door. You turn around to look at her with a smile. “Oh.”

Kara’s brain seems to be malfunctioning as she only stares at you saying nothing and with no other reaction. Your smile slowly fades as you wait.

“Kara? Say something!” Lena says and she finally blinks.

“Oh, you got a haircut!” Kara furrows her brows. “Who-who cut your hair?”

“Aunt Alex.”

“Huh. Ok. Well, I’ll be right back.” Kara says and she flies away. You look back at Lena.

“She hated it.” You sigh woefully. Pout, and soon, you’re bawling your eyes out in Lena’s shirt. She tries to calm you down, but you can’t be stopped. You didn’t know you needed Kara’s approval that badly.

So you make your way to your bedroom, ready to not get out of bed for a while, wrap yourself in a blanket, and keep crying into your pillow.

“Hey.” Kara shows up a few minutes later. “Why are you crying?”

“I’m not.” But you are. With your face squished against the pillow so she can’t see it.

“Can you look at me?”

“No. Go away.”

“Little one, please. I wanna show you something. Look at me, come on.” Kara asks and you turn your face slowly to look at her. You blink your eyes when you realize what it is that she wants to show you.

“You cut your hair like mine?” You sit up right away, and Kara smiles at you.

“Yes! I mean, I always wanted to cut my hair like that, but I was scared of how it would look, and then you did it. And Rao, you look so perfect! Like, kid, you legit look like a freaking rockstar. So, it would obviously look good on me too, right?” She looks so excited it��s hard to wrap your mind around it. “Right?”

“Yes! Of course! You look incredibly handsome, momma.” You say, and she lets out a relieved breath. “But what about the whole Supergirl and Kara Danvers getting the same haircut at the same time?”

“Oh.” She thinks about it for a second. “I mean, I got away with bangs. No way I won’t get away with this now.”

“I guess.” You shrug and Kara cleans your tears, with a smile.

“Go wash your face so we can take a selfie with the same haircut.”

“God, momma. No. You’re way too old for that.” You joke, and Kara shows you her tongue. But you still take a picture with her, because she does, indeed, look handsome and you want to show off your new haircut too.

#supergirl #kara danvers #supercorp #supercorpfamily #lena luthor #supercorp daughter #kara x lena #kara x reader #supercorp fanfic #lena x reader #reader insert

152 notes · View notes

turtle-go-brrrr · 3 years

Text

Scratch my shell, I scratch yours

A/N: Heya! So remember two posts ago where I said I wouldn't write fics because I'm not confident enough in my writing to post it? Yeah, me neither. I started writing this at 6 am because I couldn't sleep and kept working on it during the day, so enjoy ^^(I got a little tired at the end, and i think you can feel it ;w; hope it’s good enough anyway!)

Also, I’m a sucker for platonic intimacy, and there is a severe lack of platonic x reader in this fandom

Fun fact: the Shell is both the Dorsal (part on the back) AND the Plastron (part on the front).

Requested: No

Pairing: None, platonic

Word count: 2500 +

Triggers: None

Summary: You make an embarrassing suggestion that they surprisingly accept.

_____________________________________________________________

The idea came to you in a random conversation you had as you sat on their couch.

"But wait, you can really reach everywhere? Like if I touch here-", you point to a crevice in the middle of his shell. "You're telling me you can bend your arm enough to get here?"

Leonardo gently takes your wrist and pull your hand away. "I mean, we have some of those telescopic scrubs to help, you know? Or we can just ask each other to get to the hard places if it's really complicated."

Oh.

"Oh. Yeah, that makes sense."

You have been asking a few questions about their shells after Raphael started showing off some of his scars, fascinated by the intricate patterns you could see on your friends. The topic of cleaning has be brought up, and as your curiosity took charge, your brain decided to embarrass you as much as it could.

"Do you think I could help?"

Only the faint background music Mikey had set up earlier could be heard as your mutant friends looked at you, eyes wide open.

Oh, that came out wrong.

"Wait, that's not what I-", you start to explain your line of thoughts when you get interrupted by the smug look Mikey sent you, as he harbored a teasing smile.

"Oh? I didn't realize that's what you meant when you said you wanted to hang out more," he wiggles his eyebrows as your nervous laughter fills the room.

"Hold on, I can explain."

Silence again.

"Oh, you're actually listening?"

"I mean, I think we're all dying to know why on earth you'd want to take a shower with us. You're not usually this upfront with your affection," Donatello chimes in. He's not even looking at you in the eyes, but doesn't really try to hide that stupid smirk.

Bastard.

You take a deep breath, trying to focus on not letting the embarassement take over, but your voice shakes imperceptibly, and you can feel youself start to sweat. Great.

"Okay, so I was thinking : you guys always do so much for the city and never get anything in return. I remember Mikey told me that you guys love shell scratches, and now I can see that you have some trouble cleaning it, so maybe I can help with that ? Kinda like a massage sort of thing, it doesn’t have to be weird if no one makes it. Now obviously we’ll be wearing swimsuits, we’re not close enough for… you know… actually taking a shower together, " you try clearing your throat discretly. You hear a muffled laugh from Raph.

"Anyway, I think Casey knows where to buy the best animal care product. I think human stuff might not be suitable for your shells, and I read somewhere that water was the best way to clean a turtle shell anyways, but if you have suggestions just let me know what you usually use. Do you even have swimsuits ? Doesn’t matter, I’m sure we can find you some-"

As you rambled on, the slight shame started to wear off and you were able to explain your line of thoughts more clearly. The awkwardness of the situation seemed to settle down, even if your friends were absolutely going to tease you about it later. Leonardo seemed hesitant, though.

"I don’t know, man. Are you sure about this ? I don’t want you to feel like you have to. We can take care of ourselves, you know."

"I’m not gonna force you if you don’t want to, I’m just offering because I want to do something nice for you guys. You can’t really take a break, but you could at least relax a bit."

"I’m up for it." You didn’t expect Raph to agree so quickly, but maybe you should have anticipatd that as you look at the bags under his eyes. "I mean, the worst thing that could happen is falling asleep while getting a massage from a friend. Kinda sounds like a dream if you ask me. "

‘Well that was easy,’ you think as your face lightens up.

"Besides, we can laugh at them for wanting to shower with us. Didn’t think you’d want to be so intimate, " he purrs as he gives you a side glance.

Oh. Bastard number two.

"Alright. Sure. You know what, fair game, " you laugh it off. Mikey puts a reassuring arm around your shoulders as Donnie places his legs on your laps.

"We do have swimwear, so you don’t need to worry about that. And you were right about using only water to clean it, as human products tends to make us itchy afterwards. There are some types of oil we use sometimes to nourish our shells, however. I think the only thing we might need to look into is new brushes. The ones we have are, hum, barely hanging on."

You send a quick text to Casey and April to let them know about the plan after making a short list of supplies with Leo, who ended up agreeing.

It didn’t take that much convincing.

____________________________

Saturday came fast. After getting all the necessary supplies with Casey, you both made your wait to the lair to join April. They had both agreed to help you in your task, because 'damn, they really need some appreciation'.

"When do you think they'll be back?" You ask Splinter as he offers you a cup of spiced tea.

"Usually around one in the morning, unless they were delayed."

Unless something went wrong.

But those dark thought quickly faded away as you heard the faint echo of Mikey's laughter as he recalled their night. Light chatter filled the room as they took off their gear and put away their weapons, and April hushed them to get changed and take a quick shower so they could get started and finally have some sort of a break.

You could see they were excited as they each went their own way, waiting for their turn to the shower.

When you live in the sewers and try to turn it into a living space, you have to do what you can with what you have. And sometimes, what you have is a large space that you can turn into a huge bathroom, with multiple showers and a large bathtub; but what you don't have is privacy. So big communal bathroom it is.

In this specific case, it's a good thing, because it means you can all chill together as you get to work on their shells. Once everyone was settled in, April motioned them to sit on some of the chairs you put up. She opens the bag Casey and you brought and starts getting the multiple brushes and bottle out.

"You have to understand that you guys are, uh, gigantic. So try to stay at our level, okay? And stay put, please. Anyway, here is what we've got for you: there are multiple brushes - one of each type for each of you - and some are harder than the others. Don't worry, we'll try not to scrub your shell off of you," she winks at that, and holds back a laugh at Raph's worried expression.

She continues. "We also found the oil Donnie told us about, and we bought multiple bottles. You'll have a stack for next time." She then gets one last bottle out that she puts aside.

"That one is for Splinter. To make his fur all soft and shiny," you butt in with an innocent smile. The old man deserves a treat too.

Casey laughs at that and says, "So, there's tree of us and four of you. Who is okay waiting for his turn?"

Silence.

After a solid minute, Leonardo sighs and volunteers to let his brothers enjoy a well deserved spoiling session. Mikey, instead of sitting on a chair like a normal person, choose instead to lay down on the bathroom floor.

"You said it was basically a massage, right? Now it really feels like it!"

"Oh, good idea. I'm this close to getting a pillow and having the nap of my life," Donnie says, putting his fingers together.

"Your fingers are touching."

"I know," he gives you a side smile as he starts to get up, but you quickly bring him back to reality. "But there's gonna be water everywhere?" You sit down next to where he just was and watch as he goes back to where he sat, sending you a disapproving side glance.

"Let a turtle dream, will you?" He lays down on his stomach, puts his head on his arms, and scouts closer to you.

You watch Raph get settled on a chair next to Casey, putting his arms on the backrest as April hands you one of the harder brushes. Leo makes a quick trip to the kitchen and brings back some water, a few snacks, and a copy of Journey to the Center of the Earth by Jules Verne.

"Again," you start. "There's gonna be water everywhere. Are you sure bringing a book here is a good idea?"

He gives you a sly smile. "Gotta live up to my name."

What?

"What?"

"You know," Mikey interrupts. "Fearless."

"Oh. Right. Well, don't come crying when you drop it into a puddle then." But you offer him a plastic bag anyway, to hold his book with it in case he wets his hands.

"You sure you're okay waiting?" Casey asks him as he starts pouring water over Raph's back.

"Yeah, don't worry. I have things to keep me busy anyway."

______________________________

It took one swipe of the brush from April for Mikey to start... what was the word? Churring.

A low rumble coming from his throat that had kind of the same function as a cat's purr, Donnie explained. It was an expression of contentment or happiness, that sometimes even happended when they needed reassurance.

Adorable.

"I can't believe you guys can purr and never told me." Raph doesn't even bother opening his eyes when he answers you, "We knew you'd take advantage of that. Didn't want to be babied by the tiniest human we ever met."

Asshole.

You went back and forth with the gruff turtle, always in good spirit though. Conversations flowed, laughter were exchanged, and everyone managed to lighten up. Master Splinter joined the group at some point, and was just glad to spend some time with his family - all of it. He also started to take cared of Leo’s dorsal, to his delight.

You don't exactly know when, but some time after Donnie started to let go some soft churrs as you scrubbed the dirt off of his shell, you stopped listening to the current topic and started to really focus on your task.

Scrapping the dirt hidden in between every crevice, rubbing the largest scales, you were surprised by the look of the bare shell of your nerdy friend. You never really stopped to observe this particular feature the four brothers harbored, not only out of decency, but also because it was always covered. Gear and clothes, backpack and tech, dirt and blood, there was always something hiding the intricate patterns of their shells.

You unconsciously slowed down to really take in what you were seeing, your fascination and curiosity taking over your wish to help.

"I don't know why, but I never expected your shell to be so colorful," you say after wiping away the dirty water from the left side of his back. You didn’t mean to say it at loud, but he doesn't answer you. However, you do get something from Mikey.

"Man, you should see mine! Don helped me create an organic paint so I can paint my shell without hurting myself with a bunch of chemicals, and it looks sooo damn good-"

"Shh!"

"... Did they- Did you just shush me?"

"Shhh!" You whisper yell this time. You then give a side glance toward the sleeping turtle under you.

"Annw. Good luck waking him up."

"Yeah, I'm... not doing that. He needs his sleep," you laugh quietly.

______________________________

It took the three of you around an hour to deep clean their shells. Even Raph was finally letting go and softly churring at the end. Mikey was loud enough to have trouble speaking, and Donnie was still asleep. Splinter was still working meticulously on his son, who, he could tell, had a hard time holding back the content churrs that threatened to spill out.

You get up and strech, feeling your joints crack and already anticipating how sore you’ll be tomorrow. The muscles in your arms were burning, and you couldn’t feel your butt anymore, but it was worth it. You’ve never seen the four mutants so relaxed before.

Remembering the oils, you went toward the towels to dry your friend’s back and give the final touch to, what you’d grow to refer to, your work of art. You gave a few head scratches to Raph, who was dozing off with a lazy smile, and went back to Donatello. You slowly dried his dorsal when you felt him shift under your hands.

"Hey buddy," you speak softly. He whispers a ‘hey’ you can barrely hear.

"I’m almost done. I just have to put the oil, then you can let it dry and go to sleep, okay ? " You open the bottle and get a paintbrush, with which you start coating his shell with a thin layer of oil. You can hear his soft churrs start again.

Casey accidentally dropped the bottle of oil on Raph’s back and was desperatly trying to gather as much as he could. "Shi- Fuck, wait-"

"Here, give me some. Thanks to you, I don’t have to open mine, " April said with a smirk. She helped him clean up before going back to Mikey, who raised himself on his forearms and watched the scene unfold with a tired smile.

It took only around twenty minute to put the oil on their shells and get it almost dried up. Once it was done, you helped Splinter and Casey clean up as April let her dizzy friends hold onto her, guiding them on their way to their room. Once it was all done, you waved Leo good night as Raph ruffled your hair and went to sleep. Mikey gave you a big hug and thanked you for the ‘bonker idea’ and made you promise to do it again soon, which you agreed on.

April was already sleeping in the big armchair next to the couch, Casey in a sort of little nest of blankets and pillows at her feet. As you made your way to the couch – your makeshift bed for the night – Donnie was passed out cold on it already. And, boy, does he takes up a lot of space.

You felt a hand on your shoulder and turned to see Splinter standing next to you. "I’m sure he wouldn’t mind you borrowing his bed for the night. "

"I– are you sure ? "

"He stole yours. He’ll live. " A gentle smile tugged at his lips as he guided you to your friend’s room, offering you a spare blanket and pillow. "Have a good night, Y/N. You know where to find me if you need anything."

”Thank you, Master Splinter.” You can feel your eyelid close on their own, and decide to finally call it a night. You got settled as best you could in the bed, and fell asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow.

A warm breakfast would await you in the morning.

#tmnt x reader #tmnt #tmnt bayverse #tmnt leonardo #tmnt raphael #tmnt donatello #tmnt michelangelo #i was supposed to make headcanons about them getting their shell scratched #but my brain did this #took me at least 8h #idk if im 100% satisfied but hey #im really excited about posting it ^^#hope you liked it!

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sophie-i-guess13 · 2 years

Text

Something Sweet

yes this is the first chapter of a lil thing I’m working on bc I’m physically incapable of just relaxing on my summer vacation. The idea of Sylvia and Sodapop being a ship hit me like a truck and hasn’t relented <3 ps I’m doing this all on mobile so idk why the spacing is so weird I hate it! :)

words : 822

characters : Sodapop + Ponyboy Curtis, Sylvia

tw: canonical character death

tag! @mjmacchio1991 @pepsi-and-cigarettes @apricot-colored-feathers @the-kneesbees @ralphmaccchiato @patrickslayze @outsiderslamb @frypansgirl @jackettslut @victorious-2 @unoriginalchocolatemilk

You lay flat on your back, tired eyes tracing the popcorn-ceiling and the lines of time etched on its surface. Your brother jolts beside you every so often, moaning and crying out as the sweat winds down his forehead and he wraps the sheets tighter around himself until it looks more like a straight jacket than the same blankets your mother used to tuck you into. You can’t help but think it’s for the best when he tenses again, Pony’s foot finding the side of your shin.

For a fleeting moment, you’re almost grateful for the overwhelming exhaustion that made you forget to switch out of your clothes.

Your jeans are filthy, stained with mud and coppery blood of the Socs who wanted your brother and Johnny in the chair for what had happened to Bob Sheldon. Your shirt is in no better condition. Even in the darkness, the splatter in the center of your chest is obvious. You can taste the blood now, too, you’d bitten down on your bloody lip for umpteenth time since Darrry carried Ponyboy to your bed.

It hurts. It hurts, but you know your busted lip doesn’t hurt nearly as much as burnt timber collapsing on your back would, or getting torn apart by bullets while your friends watched.

As you stare up at the ceiling, it’s almost as if their faces stare back at you. Dallas if first, probably because you can still hear his body hit the cement if your mind goes quiet enough. His lips form one solid line, wisps of white-blonde hair press flat against his forehead and the nape of his neck. When you move your hand to wipe your bloodied lip, then to brush the hair from Ponyboy’s eyes, the face in the ceiling changes.

The last you saw of Johnny Cade was a picture in the newspaper. Even if it was only a sketch, you imagine it’s better than the mental image of him, nearly burnt to a crisp, spending his last few hours in agony in the same hospital where you found out your parents died. In the picture in your mind, Johnny doesn’t look happy. It took a lot to make that kid smile. But he doesn’t look like he’s in pain, either, so you decide you’ll have to be thankful for that.

Time seems to have lost all meaning. You don’t know if it will ever return. Ponyboy’s fallen into a deep sleep, finally. The repetitive rise and fall of his chest is almost enough to lull you to sleep, as well. You don’t have work tomorrow, but you can’t stand the fact of Darry having to care for your baby brother on his own.

Your legs cross at the ankles, fingers interlocked when you rest your scarred hands on your chest. The final face you see in your mind’s eye comes to you in the form of a memory.

Dally’s no-good, two-timing ex-girlfriend sits in front of you at the rodeo grounds. Only, they weren’t together yet. They were barely fourteen, actually. She wears her cousin’s hat, though you can still see her hair as it covers her shoulders, she teeters back and forth on the edge of her seat. Dallas is on the track somewhere, racing with the Slash-J’s after one of their jockeys took a nasty fall and tore something or other in his leg. After hearing he’d be out for the rest of the season and that a pretty paycheck was up for grabs, Buck Merrill jumped at the chance to see how quickly the newcomer from New York could settle into a saddle.

People around you explode into cheers and disappointed curses as the horses and their riders cross the finish line. You recognize him now, racing in boots too big for him and a wicked horse just below. Dallas would’ve finished first if that damned horse didn’t make sure Dal crossed the line before he did.

Sylvia was on her feet, taking the stairs three at a time before any of the rodeo hands seemed to notice one of the riders trying to survive the stampede of hooves pummeling the ground around him.

They’d already broken up. Dallas had caught her, or heard, that she’d been seeing someone else while he’d been in jail. You shake your head like an Etch-A-Sketch, trying to free the image from your mind without waking your brother. Try as you might, it seems impossible to imagine anything else but what Sylvia would’ve done if she were there to see.

You can’t imagine how she'll finally find out, either. The paper? Maybe the radio or television? Maybe she’ll be walking with her girlfriends and see his blood stained on the concrete.

Maybe she’ll just know.

#soapie’s stuff #the outsiders #the outsiders fanfiction #sodapop x sylvia #sodapop curtis #sylvia the outsiders

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gohyuck · 3 years

Text

the purge: society

pairing: firefighter!san x reader

genre: purge au, angst, some fluff

warnings: mentions of violence (especially violence against cops), murder, blood, injury, weapons (guns, knives, metal baseball bats)

word count: 2.4k

note: this was originally meant to be a drabble and it’s still pretty short so i didn’t get to elaborate on the characters but honestly maybe i’ll explore a purge universe with ateez someday because this was fun (i’ve never watched any of the movies though so i’ll have to get on that)

“What the fuck?”

He hadn’t expected to see anyone left alive on this street.

“Shut up and get down,” You hiss, reaching your good arm up to grab onto the man’s jacket collar before unceremoniously pulling him towards you. He stumbles, falling gracelessly onto you. A scream bubbles up in your throat as he accidentally puts pressure onto your already free-bleeding bicep, but you get ahold of yourself just in time, only letting the quietest of wounded moans escape you.

“You’re the first person that hasn’t tried to kill me before talking to me all night - oh, shit,” The stranger trails off, swearing when you effectively stop him from speaking further by placing your switchblade right under his skin. It’s only then that he even pauses to take you in: your back is up by the police car door, sure, and your left arm has a massive gash in it, but you’re armed. There’s a pistol laying idly in your lap, kept company by a metal baseball bat.

Not to mention, the knife at his neck.

“What the hell are you doing, walking around unarmed and with a first aid kit? Also, how the hell are you unarmed and with just a first aid kit? What the fuck?” You let the questions out in a rapidfire fashion, and he can’t help but clock the slight rasp in your voice. It’s easier to recognize than the pained wheeze you’re trying very, very hard to suppress, but neither escape him. He’s trained to notice the little things, anyways.

“You need to bandage that shit up,” The man ignores your questions, moving his head just enough to miss your blade but also enough to be able to look you in the eyes. “How long has it been bleeding?”

“That’s none of your business,” You grit out. “Answer my questions or I’ll kill you right here and now.”

“If I answer yours, will you answer mine?” For some reason, he doesn’t seem to be panicking just yet. His gaze is sincere, but it’s too solid to be that of a bona fide idiot. You suck in a breath of air. Threatening him would be so much easier if he didn’t seem like a nice guy. It’s hard enough to live through the night, you don’t need guilt on your hands, and you know you’re going to feel guilty when you kill him. And you will kill him.

You need that first aid kit. You’ll do anything for it.

Anything, starting off with lying.

“Sure,” You reply, steeling yourself for any sudden movements he might make now that you’re faking amicability. Maybe he’ll believe you to be vulnerable and try for your pistol or your bat, or maybe he’ll be properly cruel and finish off your arm. You don’t want to think about it. He lets out a sigh of relief, and you can’t help but wonder if you’ve actually affected him after all. “Now speak.”

“Not unarmed, there’s a police-issue pistol in my jacket and a tactical knife in my jeans. I’m not totally nuts. First aid kit’s for my buddy, though, I’ll be real, you need it way more than him.” There’s something resembling concern in his expression as his eyes flit between your torn arm and your face, but that barely interests you. You haven’t truly registered anything after ‘police-issue’.

You lean in, pressing the edge of your knife against the skin directly above his adam’s apple. For the first time since you’d cornered him, your mystery purger’s breath hitches. His eyebrows draw together in confusion. It’s no matter. You no longer regret the fact that you’ll have to tear his jugular out yourself.

“You’re a hog, huh,” You stare him down, any sympathy you might’ve had gone. For a moment, it seems as if he has no concept of what you’re saying. A second passes, though, and his gaze clears.

“Firefighter,” He responds, though the word is garbled due to him attempting to keep his movements to a minimum. You pull back slightly, very slightly, to let him explain. “I… found a dead cop, jacked his pistol. I’ll show you my ID, if you want.”

“Let me see it.” You nod your head at him as if giving him permission to live a little longer, though you both know full well that identity theft and identity fabrication are legal, too. Might as well see how much effort he puts into a fake. The man waits until you pull back just a bit more, enough to let him slowly reach his hand into his back pocket before producing a lanyard.

You grab it out of his grip with your hurt arm, not willing to move your knife too far away from his throat. You simply don’t have a good enough read on - you glance down - San Choi, ACT Firefighter, Employee ID: 018-102-4 to allow yourself any leeway with him.

His gently smiling face stares up at you from the plastic card, protected only by a clear sleeve connected to a red lanyard. San’s photo has black hair and an undercut, styled so his forehead is on display. A pair of dimples makes a guest appearance, and, overall, he seems like a genuinely sweet guy. The ID looks real, too, so maybe you aren’t totally fucked.

The San under your knife has bleach blond hair that almost falls over his eyes, though you suppose you can’t blame him for skipping out on the hair product tonight. He seems slightly tanner than his photo, his skin beautiful even now as dust from the aftermath of the explosion starts to settle against it.

Right. The explosion.

Recalling the events leading up to you meeting San forces you to remember that you have a gaping, bloody gash in your left arm. You’re honestly lucky to be alive, having ducked and used the car you’re against for cover from flying debris after a building down the block had exploded. You’d just finished driving your knife into a cop’s side - third cop of the night, eighth of your career as a purge cop killer - to make sure that he was dead when you’d heard the bomb go off, and you’d dropped before even thinking about it. Something had hit your arm on the way down, and when the adrenaline had finally left your system, you’d taken note of your blood-soaked sleeve.

You’d closed the car door after that, sealing your third murder of the night in the vehicle just so you could lean up against the door. It had been 6:31 in the morning then, and you had figured that someone would come by and kill you in the last moments before legality ensued again. You’d assumed that you’d fight, of course you would, but your arm being totally fucked definitely put a damper on your belief in your ability to overcome anyone or anything else.

Instead of the disgruntled, trigger-happy purger you’d expected to eventually find, though, you’d been found by San Choi. San Choi, who’s currently staring at your wounded arm like it’s grown eyes and can stare back.

“Come on, let me fix it up,” He pleads, lifting the kit up with the hand that’s farther from you. “You might not trust me, or whatever, but the purge is about to end as it is. I have a paramedic friend, Seonghwa, who’s taught me the basics of -”

“Shut the fuck up.” You tell him, though you’re quickly losing your bite. He obeys regardless. God, your arm really, really fucking hurts. Before pulling your knife back, you check the watch on your wrist. 6:47. Stay alive for 13 more minutes, 780 more seconds. You’ll be fine. You take the shakiest breath you’ve ever taken.

You pull your knife away from him.

Nothing happens.

“I’m going to use an alcohol free wipe and then wrap gauze around your arm, okay? You’ll just have to hold out until we can get you to a working hospital after that,” San speaks as if he’s talking to a child, or a scared animal, and you can’t blame him. He doesn’t seem like a purger, but you technically are one. You wouldn’t put it past yourself to attack on a whim if you were him. He, very slowly and with his hands in your full view at all times, opens the kit and pulls out the requisite materials.

“Gonna need you to rip your sleeve off above the cut.” He continues, leaning back as you bring your knife up to your clothes and slit the cloth right above your wound. You tear the remainder of the sleeve off your arm before throwing it behind you somewhere. San gently grabs ahold of your elbow - his palm is calloused in a way that tells you he lifts regularly, and you’re sure of this as he discards his jacket and you watch the muscles ripple in his arms under his thin black shirt - and places the wipe against your cut.

Your reaction is instantaneous: now that you’re completely past the adrenaline stage, the feeling of something, anything against the gash has you reeling to cry out. Before you can even process that you’ve made a sound, a hand presses hard against the back of your head, shoving your mouth against San’s.

He doesn’t know how else to shut you up.

His lips are chapped, but the sensation of being kissed so suddenly jars you out of your pain. San attempts to pull back, and you can already feel the apologetic wince he’s about to give you, but he brushes over your wound with the wipe again and your pain doubles back. It’s you that pulls him in this time, pressing your lips to his sloppily but forcefully as if it’ll alleviate the burn in your arm.

Kissing him only slightly muffles you at best, but you no longer care. The purge isn’t over yet. You could both die at any second. Hell, San could kill you at any second. His hand moves from the back of your head to cup your face as he leans in towards you to deepen the kiss. His lips are chapped, yes, but they’re soft. He tastes like mint and copper: there’s a cut in his lower lip. You don’t mind.

San pulls away for a moment, but only does so to grab the gauze from the kit. Once he’s wrapped it around your arm once, twice, thrice, he leans back in and your mouth accepts his own eagerly, your other hand coming up to drape over his shoulder. Neither of you know why you’re doing this, kissing a stranger with such fervor as one of you bandages the other up, but you both know that there’s really nothing else to do.

It’s only after he finishes taping you up that the two of you pull away fully. His eyes are still just as kind as you’d thought them to be at first, though his lips are far more swollen than they’d been mere minutes prior. You admire your handiwork, eyes tracing his features as he admires his own, thumb very, very gently running over your gauze. Both of you raise your heads to smile sheepishly at each other at the exact same time.

Three things happen in rapid succession.

“Good?” San’s voice is barely above a whisper, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. Just as you’re about to speak -

“San!” A voice, low and hoarse, interrupts you, and you look up to see the barrel of a gun pointed directly at the space between your eyes. You’re frozen in place for a split second before you start reaching for your own pistol. Your fingers brush the grip when -

The clock strikes seven, and sirens go off all around you, signalling the end of the purge.

The gun is out of your face. Your hand moves off of your own.

“San,” The owner of the gun pays you no mind, suddenly, his entire focus on San. The gun-owner reaches a hand out, and the firefighter beside you takes it, allowing himself to get pulled up to his feet. “You okay?”

“Yeah, Yunho, I’m totally good,” San responds, giving the taller man a cat-like grin of reassurance. Yunho’s got a fireman’s helmet on, and you suppose it’s good as protection. He must be a fellow firefighter, then. He’s tall, and though he’d seemed nothing short of severe mere moments ago, he seems softer, kinder now that the purge is over. The transformation is enough to give you whiplash. His right hand is wrapped in bandages, and this catches San’s sight at the same time it catches your own. “What the hell happened to you, though?”

“That policeman you killed had buddies,” Yunho replies with ease, but you don’t miss San’s wince. Seems like he hadn’t just happened upon that police-issue pistol. You can’t help the small grin that fights to make its way across your face. “They tried to get into the station, we had to fortify ourselves. We’re mostly fine, just that Woo’s lost a finger. He’ll live once he stops whining about it. We were mostly worried about you, honestly, taking fucking forever just to find a first aid kit. Who’s this?”

Yunho moves the topic of conversation over to you so naturally that you barely even realize what has happened before San is reaching a hand out to you to pull you up to a standing position. You grab ahold of your pistol, though you shove the bat off your lap before allowing yourself to be brought up. Without thinking, you practically plaster yourself to San’s side. Now that he’s for sure what he told you he was, and now that you’re no longer in danger of dying, you can’t help but feel inexplicably connected to him even though neither of you know each other. San wraps an arm around your waist naturally, and neither of you miss Yunho’s eyebrow raise. Neither of you acknowledge it, either.

“This?” San asks rhetorically, turning his head slightly to look at you. He’s smiling again, and you find that you want to see it more often. Maybe you’re experiencing the onset of delirium. You hope not. “This is…”

“(Name),” You reply, being honest. There’s no need for you to lie. Besides, you owe San answers, right? You stick your uninjured arm out, letting Yunho shake your hand. San’s grip tightens around your waist.

“I’m (Name).”

#first #five #tags #dont #work #san #san fluff #san angst #ateez san #choi san #ateez angst #ateez fluff #san x reader #choi san x reader #san smut

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yandere-sins · 3 years

Note

May I please request number 12. Bite Marks and number 14. Carving for Nagito Komaeda? thank you so much :)

Will do! Thank you for requesting ^-^ I will give you some submissive yandere and trickster darling today. Tomorrow? Who knows. I will say, I’d rate it mature, but nothing really happens.

Bite marks - “You.. love me right.. not them? Oh god please say you love me..!!”

Carving - “Please! You can use me all you like don’t leave me!”

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

“I love you.”

The clanking of the food tray crashing to the ground was your smallest concern at that moment. You kept your eyes pinned to the ceiling, not acknowledging Nagito’s shock in favor of maintaining the surprise as nonchalant as possible. It wasn’t the time to give him satisfaction; it was merely time to make him fret a little.

“But Hajime... I’m not sure. I keep thinking about him. Wondering what he’s been up to since I left. Maybe that’s love too?”

The gulp he did was audible, as you mentioned his former friend. You had never tried before or even thought that it might affect Nagito to talk about your feelings, rather than the feelings you had towards him after he kidnapped and strapped you to a bed. His mouth opened and closed a few times as he wanted to say something, but aside from small croaks, nothing escaped from his vocals.

Ignoring the fallen tray, he walked back to your bed, standing beside you like the creep he was. Nagito staring down at you wasn’t a comfortable ordeal, and you never knew what he thought as he watched you quietly. Sadly, this had become too much of a norm to bother you anymore. Did he figure out you were pulling at his heartstrings with well-placed words and doubts? Would Nagito see through your lies?

Sinking to his knees, he leaned on the mattress, peering at you sharply. But him fidgeting gave away that he tried to play it cool while, really, he was just his usual self - a mess. Intrigued, needy, and most importantly, desperate for any acknowledgment from you.

“[Name], say it again,” he asked timidly, but he couldn’t hide the desire cracking in his voice.

“Do you think it’s possible? Loving two people?” you continued, undeterred by Nagito’s need.

Immediately, a hand snapped forward, moderating itself before it laid down on the cheek furthest away from him, pushing to have you turn your head. Finally, you looked at him. Immediately, you found the disgusting satisfaction he felt from receiving your gaze on him, plastered all over his face. “Say you love me again,” Nagito urged. You were disgusted by his touch, his thumb caressing your cheek so very affectionately, but you would take it if it helped fulfill your plan.

“But I’m not sure, maybe I love Hajime--”

“No, no, no!” he yelled suddenly. Before long, both hands were cupping your face in them while his legs climbed over you. “You said you love me! You love me! Me!” One moment, Nagito seemed pained by you speaking another man’s name, his hands shaking and eyes wildly searching for clues that would confirm him. But now that your mouth kept quiet, you saw a familiar yet strange sense of despair crawling into his expression.

“You.. love me, right... not him? Oh god, please say you love me!”

Nagito took a deep breath, and you knew that he’d begin to talk like a waterfall now, almost unstoppable. If you weren’t talking to him, he’d monologue as long as needed to calm himself and some more, getting himself off the desperation and desire he felt. But not this time, not when you wouldn’t let him.

“I love you,” you stated as a matter of fact. It wasn’t supposed to sound happy, nor outright like sarcasm, you had to declare it as if it was no big deal or Nagito would see through your charade.

“Ah,” he sighed, lips curling into a smile while his face flushed red. “You do love me,” he muttered, his expression gradually becoming more distorted from happiness. “You love me, too! Finally! I loved you all this time. Every second since we met, I loved you. I love you! You love me!”

Nothing you could have done against him leaning down, lifting your head as much as your restraints allowed, kissing you. He did it before, and as always, it was a sloppy, needy kiss, just this time, you moved your lips ever so slightly to reciprocating it. Spurred on by your actions, Nagito deepened it, moans shuddering over his lips while he kept demanding more and more. Disgusted, you gave it to him, let him have it. Waited for him to pull away first to take a breather.

He had closed his eyes for the kiss, but when he opened them again, you immediately caught them with yours. Panting against your lips, when he approached again, you denied him the kiss ever so slightly, causing him to whine softly. He had no reason to stop but perhaps, not wanting to be hated again, did it for him.

“Untie me,” you whispered seductively, pressing your lips to his briefly before pulling away, watching as he leaned in for more. “Let me love you, Nagito.”

There was so much fighting with himself, all of it showing in his expression. However, the part of him that didn’t think it was a good idea to free you slowly but surely lost to the one that wanted so desperately to be loved by you. Wholly and fully, and hopefully with remaining marks as to always remember.

This time when he leaned in for a kiss, you let him, pleased him by returning the affection. It was the test to see if you genuinely were devoted, some part of his mind careful of not being scammed by you. But with you two eagerly exchanging your breaths, his doubts melted away until he finally pulled his hands from your face to reach above you two, fiddling with the ropes around your wrists.

The tugs and pulls hurt, but it was nothing compared to the racing of your heart, the knowledge this was working. He really was freeing you. He really was doing it! You felt your hand collapse onto the bed the moment the rope stopped holding it in place. The wound was throbbing, but you only strained your neck to kiss him more, packed with excitement and urging him on. His hesitation before untying the second rope disappeared, and he began to loosen it even quicker.

“[Name]... [Name]!” he kept calling out to you as if you’d disappear if he didn’t speak up. You soothed his anxiety with your presence, allowing your bodies to warm each other, used all your strength to move your arm at least forward again. Nagito sunk into your palm even though you couldn’t use it properly.

Like a child into the affection of a parent, he was so damn naive.

It was just a matter of time now. You did it carefully, using him and his desire to be touched and caressed by you to train your hands, do what had to be done. Even if it meant you had Nagito rub all over you, impatiently waiting for more of your love and affection, you knew it would at least keep him unaware and well-disposed to the biggest part of your plan.

Finally, you managed to use your arms again. They still hurt and strained upon moving, but you took that in exchange for your freedom. Hugging Nagito, you fogged his mind with another deep kiss, pressing your body against him until he caved away, the position changing quickly. Now on top of him, you giggled and played along, pushing his arms back over his head and driving your hands over them promisingly.

“Let me tie you up, alright? I want to be the one giving you all the love. You don’t need to do even a single thing.”

Nagito froze, having the same kind of fight with himself that he had before untying you, but you simply cozied up to him, kissed from his temples to his chin. “Pretty please? Let me make it up to you and show you my love,” you purred, feeling absolutely disgusted by the pleading implications in your words. But whatever needed to be done, you were willing to do.

“O-Okay,” he finally agreed, shivering lightly while you grinned. “You’re such a good boy,” you praised him as you slowly but surely wrapped the rope around his wrists. “I love you, [Name],” he whimpered, trying to hide the pain he felt as you pulled the ropes skin-tight. “I know,” you pressed out from between your teeth. “I fucking know.”

Leaning back after securing the triple knot, you let your head fall into your neck, looking up at the ceiling one last time. You had seen it so much the last few days, counted all the holes in it and spiders crawling over it. But no longer. And you didn’t care if Nagito would have to rot down here for all eternity either. “What a shit hole,” you complained, inelegantly climbing off him and onto your feet.

Immediately dizziness hit you as you stood straight up again, but this would be the last thing stopping you now. Your legs seemed to have trouble keeping you on top of them, but holding on to chairs standing around and the walls did the trick, leading you towards the door. “[Name]? Where are you going?” Nagito called after you. “Hey! Don’t leave me--”

“Shut up, Nagito. It’s over,” you hissed back over your shoulder. “I am getting out of here! I am not staying even one second longer!”

“No... wait!”

The cold, iron door felt heavenly against your irritated skin. It felt like happiness and freedom, and you were so thankful for reaching it after everything you went through. By now, Nagito couldn’t see you anymore, but you heard him frantically tearing on the ropes. Luckily, they were solid and reliable, even after all the strain you had applied to them.

“Please! You can use me all you like, but don’t leave me!” Nagito screamed after you, and you could hear his voice cracking. He must have been crying, but you were the last one to feel pity for him. Instead, you pushed down the door handle, not wanting to spend one more second in this depressing room. You were so close, only one step away from it.

But the door didn’t open.

Rattling it, you kept pushing and pulling at it, growing more and more frustrated every time it didn’t move. You knew it could open. You had heard it work for Nagito more than once!

Nagito.

Glaring back, it was quiet in the room. He should have been bawling his eyes out by now, screamed, and begged. And yet, nothing echoed around you; only the small sounds of a chuckle reached your ears.

Furious, you stomped back to him, pushing aside everything that was in the way. “Where’s the key!” you screamed, repeating the question with every step. “Where’s the fucking key!”

When you reached him, all that remained on his face was something akin to a pitying smile, eyes that were no less condescending than yours were. “Oh, Darling,” he muttered. “There never was a key. We are in a bunker, underground, buried. The only way to get out of here now...”

Nagito paused, taking a deep breath, his smile only growing while you felt your heart drop and your last nerves popping. “Ah, beautiful,” he whispered, looking at you, knowing one thing for sure.

“How do I get out,” you asked him, trying to remain calm.

“It’s despairing, isn’t it?” Nagito replied undeterred, playing your very own game.

It was.

“You’re feeling absolute despair, now that you realize you are stuck here with me. And if I die, you won’t ever find out how to leave. Isn’t it truly beautiful? I am so lucky to be stuck with you now; even dying from your negligence won’t bother me, you know?”

“How. Do I. Get out,” you repeated your question, your voice shivering from anger.

“Ah, maybe I will remember,” he teased you. “But only if you give me the love you promised me. Pretty please? I know I am insatiable, but if you really want to know...”

Feeling your whole world crumble to ashes around you, you knew he would never tell you. If it even was true that you weren’t just in a storage depot or bunker- and you’d make sure by destroying this whole place in search of a key - you needed him to guide you to get out from the underground he described. Needed to do what he wanted you. Needed to love him.

And you wondered if right from the beginning, he had known what you planned to do and decided to play the puppet caught in your strings.

Little had you expected Nagito to be the puppeteer all along.

[You can find the prompt list here]

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merakiui · 4 years

Note

hello!!<3 can i request an angst scenario (it can have a happy ending it's up to you!!) childe x fem!reader where they are together for some time and she didn't know he's fatui (she hates them bc her parents were in debt and overall they ruined her life and he's too scared to tell her) but she finds out and wants to broke up?? THANK YOU

In which you discover Childe’s ties to the Fatui.

cw: angst, debt, small mention of depression as a result of debt, female reader note - I woke up and chose pain with this one. >:) it also got long;;; oops!

You hate the Fatui. And although that’s such a strong, hurtful word it's your true feelings. You’ve never experienced their wrath firsthand, but you have witnessed what it can do to people. Your sweet, loving parents, who took loans out of the bank in order to pay for repairs to their shop, were reduced to frightful messes at the mere mention of that harrowing F-word.

It’s horrible to see them in such a state, especially since a few agents had come by once and practically demanded the money. As a result of such a distasteful discussion, you refuse to go into any sort of monetary career: trader, merchant, and even a wandering saleswoman. You’ll find a way to make things right by getting a job that will bring in lots of riches for your poor parents. Then the Fatui will have no choice but to leave your family alone.

Your own funds have dried up, having gone into another Fatui agent’s gloved hands. You can’t even argue because you have an inkling as to what will happen when you finally run out of money to give. Ever since this entire debt charade, your parents have become hollow shells of their former selves: paranoid, depressed, and starved of the happiness that comes with being in a regular, debt-free family.

Childe tunes into your rant as if someone had just turned on the switch that designates his listening skills. The two of you are sitting on a lovely hilltop, watching the stars twinkle in and out of focus. Liyue Harbor can be seen from afar, glittering in warm colors of gold and red. If Childe remembers correctly, another festival should be right around the corner. He’ll have to take you when he finds time to slink away from his work.

Speaking of his work, he’s never actually told you about it. When you asked, he simply said it was a job that allowed him to travel. It sounded like a traveling merchant to you—perhaps even a fishmonger specializing in exotic types—considering he was seemingly loaded with Mora. It made you jealous that he was so well-off with his finances, but you couldn’t complain when he so readily emptied his pockets for your sake.

“And then that stupid agent shows up at our door right when I get home! It’s the worst timing ever. My parents were pretending to be out of the house and I showed up and ruined their plan.” A heavy sigh tumbles from your lips as you flop back onto the grass, where Childe fixes you with a lopsided, sympathetic grin. “I hate it. They’re not even themselves anymore. It’s like they lost all sense of life. I’m picking up as many commissions as I can, but it doesn’t even help. The Fatui just take it all faster than I can save it.”

“They’re the worst, aren’t they?”

“And the sky isn’t blue. Of course they’re the worst!” You inhale softly. “No use getting mad about something that already happened, though.”

“You’ll just give yourself more stress and you don’t need that.” He joins you on the plush grass, turning his head to look at you rather than up at the inky night sky. “I can help with your commissions, you know. I’ve been itching to smash some hilichurl camps.”

“I can handle it myself. It’s fine.” Only it’s not and you’ve started realizing that. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Funny. I was going to ask you something, too!”

“Oh. Uh...”

He chuckles, staring at you with blue eyes that don’t sparkle. “There’s this festival coming up and I wanted to take you. It’ll be just the two of us for one night. You can forget all about work and money—”

“What about you? You said your job has you traveling all over the place. That’s why we’ll rarely see each other in the future. Once you’re done here in Liyue, that is.” You move onto your side, holding yourself up on your elbow. “I don’t think it’ll work.”

“Well, my boss doesn’t have to know. It’ll be our tiny secret!”

You roll your eyes, smiling a little. Deep inside you’ve always felt like something was off about his story. For the past few months, he’s remained in Liyue and once you even caught him slipping into Northland Bank when you were running some errands. You hope he isn’t in a similar situation concerning debt and poverty. No, he wouldn’t need to be. He’s shown you just how many lavish things his funds can afford. Why would he be in debt if he has a stable job?

“Are you...doing something bad?”

You could’ve phrased that better, but it’s already out in the open now. Sheepishly, you avoid his befuddled stare, opting to watch the moon as its light becomes obscured behind a dark cloud. An airy chuckle escapes him, but he doesn’t say anything. His silence confirms your fears and it dawns upon you that he hasn’t been truthful this entire time.

“This mask.” It’s in your hands before he can stop you. You’re tapping at it with a finger, equal parts curious and apprehensive. You refuse to beat around the bush; your doubtful gaze catches his and it hardens at once. “You’re Fatui, aren’t you?”

He sits up calmly, holding out his hand. “That’s quite the accusation, my dear. Let’s not jump to conclusions.”

“I’m not jumping to any conclusion. I’m right, aren’t I?” Now you’re sitting up, staggering to your feet to find some sort of leverage over him. He’s taller than you and far more powerful than he once let on. “Childe, why would—“

He sighs, lowering his hand out of defeat. “I suppose there’s no point avoiding it now. You were bound to find out one of these days.”

“One of these days? What? Like, when my family’s on the streets because the Fatui took our house?”

It hurts that he wasn’t honest and it hurts even more knowing that he has the power to help. He could’ve spent his time working out ways to get you out of debt, yet he decided to shower you in affection and useless trinkets! Trinkets that are only good for selling and receiving money to pay off the debt. You could cry; that’s how much it hurts. And when he makes no solid effort to comfort you, the tears begin to form.

“Of course not. I’d never let that happen!”

“Then why would you lie about it? Why not help me? Why can’t you just be honest? You always avoid questions you don’t want to answer and I hate it! I’ve been with you long enough to know that that mask is bad news. I was just waiting for you to confirm it, but you didn’t.”

You think it’s selfish for wanting his help—for wanting help from a Fatui agent, no less—but you’re too upset to care.

“(Name), you know that’s—“

“What else haven’t you told me? What else have you lied about? I don’t care if you’re trying to protect me. I’m already on a list. The Fatui still show up to my house and you just...let them. Why?”

“If I interfered, it would look bad in front of Her Majesty. You know I can’t go against her orders. I want to help you—I do. But...”

You’re fumbling for new words, at a complete loss with yourself. No matter how many questions you spout, he’ll evade them like they’re optional. And even if you want answers and honesty more than anything right now, you know he’ll fail to provide it. You shove the mask into his hands, shaking your head in disbelief. A swell of emotions overcome you: sadness, anger, and regret. You feel utterly betrayed. The sweet Childe, whom you once thought was your perfect match, is working for the Fatui—the people who have turned your life into misery.

And that’s probably not even the half of it.

“Let’s break up,” you say before he can spin another false tale. Another easy excuse to avoid this downfall. Childe stops short to stare at you in surprise and it’s weird to see that emotion scrawled across his face. He’s usually smooth and collected; he always knows what to say and how to act. Not this time, though. “It’s not going to work if we’re together while the Fatui are hounding my parents. And they wouldn’t approve of our relationship either.”

“Now, (Name), wait a moment. You’re not thinking straight. You’re just—” He struggles to find the correct words and in that small moment between foggy clarity and paralyzing uncertainty he plasters another plastic smile on. “Look. I know you’re upset, but I didn’t mean to lie to you. I was going to tell you eventually. Just had to find the right time to do it, you know?"

“I know. And that’s why we should go our separate ways.” Like Childe, you also put on a faux show, building up your walls as high and strong as his are. You don’t think you’ll last another minute in his presence, as you’re far too close to tears. “Thank you again for tonight. I’ll take my leave now.”

Rather than pain, it’s bitter when your lips fall upon his soft cheek. And the gesture stings harder than a slap on the wrist.

The searing pain returns when you pull away and begin the descent from the hill as fast as your trembling legs will allow. You refuse to look back and fall into his arms in hopes that he’ll reassure you. The fact that he doesn’t chase after you—doesn’t even call out—stabs your conflicted heart and it’s more than enough confirmation. Childe isn’t exactly boyfriend material. He’s callous when it comes to a battle and he’s driven by his own ulterior motives. Surely this relationship was just a means of spending his extra time when he found himself bored and lacking a fight. Maybe he thought of his work when the two of you were on secretive dates. Maybe his heart was empty when the two of you were intimate. Maybe you were just the glue holding this crumbling bond together.

Childe remains on that hilltop, watching you disappear into the distance. And it’s then when realizes he’s lost you. The feeling is different from the battlefield and it’s far more real than when he’s snooping around as a Harbinger. You’re just a normal, good-natured citizen and he...ruined that part of you. With his ties to an enemy that has crushed your family. He’s partly, if not fully, responsible for what transpired just now and for the first time in a while real guilt gnaws at him. He’s left wondering why he did all of that—why he couldn’t just face your questions head-on.

It’s his fault, isn’t it?

On that windy hilltop, under the silent, disapproving darkness of the sky, he’s left to pick up the pieces of a fractured relationship. And it’s all because he couldn’t admit the truth to his precious girlfriend.

In a way, the Fatui have taken something from him, too, and he’s not sure if he’ll be able to patch it up with honeyed promises.

Looks like we won’t be going to that festival anytime soon...

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact scenario #genshin impact childe #genshin impact tartaglia #genshin impact ajax #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #ajax x reader #childe #tartagila #ajax #i hope it was good!!#i wanted to capture childe's undesirable #personality traits in this #such as his tendency to lie smoothly #and avoid prying questions #tw: angst

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