#I know how long-winded I get so I really did keep this as short as possible
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Just a Scratch
Leah Williamson x Reader
word count:
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It was supposed to be a peaceful day. The kind of day that Y/N and Leah loved, filled with quiet drives and lighthearted conversations. After a week of intense training, both were looking forward to a bit of downtime. Leah had suggested a short road trip to the countryside, and Y/N couldn’t argue—spending the afternoon together, winding through the rolling hills and quiet roads, sounded perfect.
Leah had parked her car in the apartment’s underground garage, as she usually did, a spot meticulously chosen to ensure her car was out of harm’s way. Y/N, however, wasn’t used to this kind of care with a vehicle. In the past, she had always treated cars like just another mode of transportation, never really focusing on keeping them pristine. Leah, on the other hand, was a different story—her car was her baby.
Y/N didn’t want to mess up the vibe. She wanted to impress Leah, to show her that she could be just as careful. But as she backed the car into the tight garage space, something went horribly wrong. Her attention had been elsewhere, distracted by the morning's conversation with her teammates. She hadn’t noticed the trash can that had been left in the corner.
The moment she heard the screeching sound—metal against metal—her heart plummeted. Y/N winced, quickly putting the car in park and getting out. Her eyes immediately went to the side of the car, where a long, deep scratch ran across the door.
Her stomach churned. She knew Leah loved this car. She had heard Leah talk about it with so much pride, how she’d worked hard for it, how she maintained it like a precious gem. And now… Y/N had ruined it. In that moment, a thousand thoughts raced through her mind—what if Leah was furious? What if she couldn’t forgive this? What if this was the thing that broke them?
Her palms were sweaty as she ran her hands through her hair in distress. She’s going to hate me. She’s going to break up with me. She’ll never look at me the same way again.
When Leah came back from running errands, she was in a cheerful mood, humming softly as she entered the garage. Seeing Y/N standing near the car, she smiled, but the expression quickly faded as she noticed the tense posture of her girlfriend.
“Hey, babe,” Leah said with a warm smile, walking over to Y/N. “Everything okay?”
Y/N swallowed hard, feeling like her throat was closing up. She could already see the disappointment in Leah’s eyes, even though Leah hadn’t said anything yet. She could hear it in her own head, the sharp edge of anger Leah would surely direct her way.
Y/N took a shaky breath and spoke, her voice small. “Leah… I think I messed up.”
Leah’s smile faded into a look of concern. “What happened?” she asked gently, her eyes scanning Y/N’s face.
“I… I scratched your car,” Y/N muttered, voice barely above a whisper. “It’s… it’s pretty bad.”
Leah’s eyes flicked to the side of the car, inspecting the mark. Y/N immediately tensed up, bracing herself for the worst.
Leah didn’t say anything at first. Her brow furrowed slightly, but then, instead of the anger Y/N had feared, Leah took a deep breath and turned toward her, walking slowly.
Y/N couldn’t hold back anymore, and her words rushed out like a dam bursting. “I’m so sorry. I know you love this car. I didn’t mean to. I know it’s your baby, and I just… I didn’t think, and now it’s ruined, and—”
“Y/N,” Leah interrupted softly, taking Y/N’s hands in hers. “Stop.”
Y/N blinked, looking into Leah’s eyes, surprised by the calmness in her voice. Leah stepped closer, brushing a few strands of hair behind Y/N’s ear as she searched her eyes with a tenderness that took Y/N by surprise.
“Look at me, babe,” Leah said, her voice still soothing, yet firm. “I’m not mad. I’m not upset.”
“But it’s your car!” Y/N cried, still feeling the weight of guilt. “You love it, and now it’s… I scratched it, Leah. I’m such an idiot.”
Leah shook her head, a small, reassuring smile pulling at the corners of her lips. “It’s just a scratch, Y/N,” she said, her voice calm, almost amused by how worked up Y/N was. “It’s not the end of the world. I’m more worried about you.”
Y/N’s frown deepened, confused. “Worried about me?”
Leah nodded, taking a step closer, wrapping her arms around Y/N’s waist. “I can tell you’ve been stressed lately. You’ve had a lot on your mind, and I can see it. But you’re letting something small like this eat at you, and it’s breaking my heart to see you like this.”
Y/N’s shoulders slumped. “I just… I didn’t want you to be disappointed in me,” she admitted, her voice cracking. “I thought… I thought maybe you’d break up with me over something so stupid.”
Leah’s expression softened even more. She gently pulled Y/N into her arms, holding her tightly against her chest. “Don’t be silly,” Leah whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of Y/N’s head. “I could never break up with you over something like this. It’s just a car. We can fix it. But if you’re worried about anything, I want you to talk to me about it. Don’t bottle it up.”
Y/N melted into Leah’s embrace, feeling the comfort of her warmth, her steady presence. “I’m sorry, Leah. I didn’t mean to… I just freaked out.”
“Babe,” Leah murmured, brushing her fingers through Y/N’s hair, “I’m not mad at you. I’m just glad you’re okay. And I’m more concerned about your stress than I am about any scratch. We’ll fix it, together.”
Y/N looked up at her, her eyes slightly watery. “You’re really not mad?”
Leah smiled, leaning down to kiss Y/N softly on the lips, a gentle, lingering kiss. “Not at all. I love you, okay? And I love you more than anything, even if your parking skills need a little work,” she teased, trying to lighten the mood.
Y/N laughed quietly, wiping her eyes. “I love you, too. Thank you for being so… understanding. I don’t know why I thought you’d be so upset.”
“Because you’re a bit of a worrywart sometimes,” Leah grinned, her voice playful. “But that’s why you have me. To remind you that not everything is as big a deal as you make it out to be.”
Y/N smiled, finally feeling the weight lift off her shoulders. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Leah squeezed her tight, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “You’ll never have to find out. Now, how about we go inside, relax, and forget about the scratch for a bit? We have a whole afternoon ahead of us.”
Y/N nodded, the tension finally gone from her body. As they walked back into their apartment, Y/N felt a rush of love for Leah, for how she always knew just what to say, just how to make everything feel okay.
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The End.
#offside story#woso fanfics#woso imagine#woso x reader#woso#woso soccer#leah williamson#leah williamson imagine#leah williamson x reader
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biker!haechan as your boyfriend who you’re mad at (but are you, really?)
★: fluff fluff fluff fluff & a very sexy biker!lee haechan
m.list
( 𝟔 : 𝟓𝟎 𝐩𝐦 )
“i know you’re mad at me angel, but please. hold onto me, or you’re gonna fall off.” your boyfriend pleads as he glances at you for a quick second through the rear-view mirror of his bike.
“no.”
your answer is simple and sweet bitter. a classic sign for him to know how upset you actually are at him, no matter how silly or random the reason may be.
and see, the thing is, in a room full of stubborn people, you would be superior. that is one thing both you and haechan have known for a long time.
so it didn’t matter how sweetly he talked to you right now, if you’re upset, you are upset.
“babe.”
you can hear the frustration in his voice, and that pisses you even more because, how can he be frustrated?
you are.
you were furious.
he was the one who had been all careless about driving on your way to the café by speeding and doing those careless stunts with his damned bike to apparently “show off his amazing skills”, and on top of that, he was also the one who then proceeded to smile a little too unnecessarily sweetly and be a little too unnecessarily friendly to the new pretty friend of chenle, whom you guys had met on your group hangout today.
of course, those were reasons to be mad.
right?
because he was quite shameless about it too. complimenting her right in front of your face and thinking you didn’t catch him side-eyeing you every 2 seconds to see your reaction everytime he interacted with her?
you found him utterly annoying.
most of the time, it was affectionately, but today, your patience had been running short and he had pushed your buttons too far.
your boyfriend was aware of that, and he thought it quite cute, actually.
however, riding the bike as his pillion rider while being on that current speed of the bike could be quite dangerous, and he only wanted to assure your safety in that moment.
“just focus on driving, haechan. i won’t fall off”
“baby, you will.”
“oh my god,” you groan out in annoyance. he really wouldn’t stop.
“i said i won’t. you know what? look—”
his consistent “hold on to me”s eventually get on your nerves in your already sour mood, and you decide it would be best to just prove it to him;
show him that nothing will happen at all—for once—so that he can shut his pretty mouth up and get you both home quietly and hopefully, try to then make it up to you there.
and to do just that, you start trying to completely detach your body from his.
you just saw absolutely no need to hold onto him like he was pushing you to do.
you let your hands fly in the air as you shift back on your seat, away from him, to show him that he’s overreacting and you’re really not going to—
it takes about half and a quarter second for the furious wind to hit you harshly, rolling in along with the fast velocity of the bike, and you’re almost sent flying back off the vehicle.
almost.
in that panicked state of mind, you latch onto haechan’s back instantly, grabbing onto him like your life depended on it.
and it did, actually, for a second there.
your mind becomes so frenzied for a moment; you almost missed how, the moment you shifted away from him, he slowed down and one of his hands immediately flew back to reach you, in an attempt to hold you and pull you back to keep you safe and steady.
then, there’s a moment of silence.
there’s a painfully long moment of silence; only the rumbles of the engine of the bike to be heard.
you try to process what had just happened and how you just quite literally just embarrassed yourself with all the confidence you had about around 10 seconds ago, while he takes his time to calm himself down and steady himself and the bike after knowing you’re still there behind him.
the loud quietness is humiliating until he finally breaks it.
“...are you okay?” his voice comes out a little shaky as if, after the initial panic, he’s now trying to bite back a laugh, and you know he’s looking at you through the bike’s mirror again, with that stupid smirk etched onto his face.
“yes.”
this time, too, somehow, your reply is short and bitter sweet, and biker!haechan finds you absolutely adorable as you very slowly sneak your hands up his chest from the back in a tight hold, sticking closer to him, while you try your absolute best to not face him.
only for your own safety purposes, of course.
because— fine, alright. maybe he was not all that wrong when he’d instructed you. you’d tried to prove him wrong, and nature had just done you the other way around.
and frustratingly, yet once again, he thinks you don’t hear him when he stifles a laugh right in front of you.
“shut up. don’t.”
you mumble out, in poor attempt to keep up with the anger instead of the embarrassment that was swallowing you up right now.
but you’re really just pouting in the backseat and your boyfriend knows that.
you don’t know whether you want to jump off this damned bike willingly yourself now, or if you want to hide your face in his back and never show yourself again.
“mm. didn’t, angel.”
and you hate how you can hear that cocky smile on his face without having to look at him as he speaks.
dumb, dumb, and stupidly hot lee donghyuck.
you loathe him, and both of you know how true that stands.
“are you hungry? we can grab some takeout from that place you liked last time.” his voice is sweet as it always is, as he suggests.
but your mind is still a fuzzy swirl of embarrassment and irritation at him from earlier, and it ends up speaking something completely against your actual wants.
“no i’m fine.”
“baby,” he smiles softly as he glances at you once more, “is that your anger talking or you?”
“…”
“you don’t want that beef soup ramen from that place?”
“no, i don’t.”
and he just knows from your tone that you’re sulking behind him as you say this, your mind screaming something else completely.
( ★ )
“you want something to drink too?”
haechan asks exactly 17 minutes later as you both stand to order your ramen and chicken wings.
what had you been mad at him about, again?
#haechan fluff#haechan imagines#haechan#haechan ff#haechan fanfic#haechan timestamps#nct dream reaction#nct reaction#nct 127 reactions#nct fanfic#lee donghyuck#haechan fic#haechan soft hours#haechan scenarios#lee haechan#nct scenarios#nct reactions#nct dream reactions#haechan reaction#nct dream imagines#nct dream ff#nct 127 fluff#nct dream fluff#nct imagines#📂 — nct . . !
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friction | reader (f) x crush!nanami pt. 2
pairing: reader (f) x crush!nanami
synopsis: [AU] you have always had a crush on nanami. since the day you were hired as his personal assistant, you've been right at his side combating numbers and making money within the finance department for the company you two worked for. but, things take a turn when nanami catches wind of your feelings, and rejects you. little did he know the weight of his mistake.
warnings: angst, heartbreak, sexual tension, jealousy (future smut)
a/n: ahhhh! sorry that i took so long for the next part! ive been so busy, how embarrassing. but here it is!! thank you all not only for your patience but also for your kindness and for enjoying my writing :) i really appreciate it.
all parts: pt.1,
December | Tokyo, Japan
Days have passed, and the rescheduled meeting went smoothly. Nanami was all smiles, his feedback limited, followed by a lot of praise for the department. The breakfast was to everyone's liking, and Nanami seemed to have been beyond satisfied. It definitely felt like a win for you.
Nanami’s meeting with Mr. Takada went well, and he did receive approval to create another position for the corporate cafe (thanks to Mr. Takada). You’ve decided to take it upon yourself to offer him the job, a sort of nice surprise for Nanami. You rush to the bathroom, pulling down your short pencil skirt and fixing the wrinkles of your egg-white cardigan. You check yourself in the mirror, assuring your makeup didn’t smudge and your hair wasn’t the equivalent of a bird's nest.
As you did, two of the ladies from the front desk entered, makeup bags in hand. They were a sea of chatter until they noticed you, but their smiles only widened. They place their bags down at their appropriate sink, and eye you. “You’re Nanami Kacho’s assistant, right?” The brunette asked eagerly
You turn over and nod, “correct. Is there anything you need?”
The two exchange a look before turning back with gleeful smiles, “are you two… close?”
“As close as two coworkers can be,” you said, hoping the dread didn’t imbue into your words. “Why?”
“A-ah, well,” the blonde one quickly chimes in. “You wouldn’t know if he was single, would you?”
It was always selfish of you to always live in your own world. In your perfect world, Nanami was single, simply waiting for you to make your move. In your world, nobody knows about Nanami but you. Particularly, you knew what his favorite coffee was, what colors he enjoys wearing. It was unheard of in your world for others to enjoy his presence at the capacity that you do. But you also acknowledged that you were delusional, and that that was simply not the case.
You look over and shrug, “as far as I know, he’s single. But I try not to endeavor in his personal affairs.” You were blessed to have such a professional voice, because each word burnt your tongue. “I’m guessing the both of you…” you lower your head, softening your gaze towards the two women. Their crimson faces and shy smiles said it all. You force out a smile and prepare your leave, “I wish you both luck.”
You could feel your heart sink, somehow feeling jealous over a man that wasn’t yours. As you exited the bathroom, you let out a long, shaky sigh. It was moments like this that would bring you back to reality.
As disappointing as it is, Nanami is your boss. Not your friend, or lover. He is the person that keeps you on payroll, instructs you on your work, and expects you to get your shit done. And he sees you as exactly what you are: his assistant. You have his back, but prior to your role, he had no assistant. Nanami is praised time and time again for his abilities as well as completing his tasks independently. Really, you need him more than he needs you.
But you calm yourself down, remembering that you yourself are a single woman, and can’t hang onto this man forever. Nearing your desk and seeing Nanami’s perfectly side swooped hair, your ‘independent woman’ facade quakes. His eyes quickly leave the computer screen, and his lips curve into a gentle smile. “Y/N, you calculated your numbers beautifully,” he compliments in a warm tone. “You truly outdo my expectations.”
Your cheeks heat up from the flattery, “thank you, Nanami…” You give him a curt bow before sifting through your drawer. Your fingers wedge between the documents, looking through the alphabetically-organized folders. Finding exactly what you were looking for, you quickly press it against your chest.
Nanami’s eyes stare at the folder skeptically, “what are you up to now?”
It wasn’t at all accusatory, but somehow his tone made you nervous, “ah, I have a few of last month's numbers to make copies of. I also have to go to our bigger database to reach last year's numbers so I can create a comparison chart.”
Nanami accepts your excuse, though you’re confident he’s a bit aware of your white lie. He nods, “don’t feel rushed– those numbers will be due after New Years.”
You nod, “I’d rather get a headstart before then.”
“We truly are too similar, Y/N,” Nanami hums, his warm smile uplifting your previously low spirits. He returns his focus to his computer, reading one of the many emails he receives on a daily basis. “That reminds me– tomorrow is Thursday, Y/N.”
Your eyes flicker to your shared calendar, “that’s right. We’ll be working remotely for the rest of the week.” A silence sits between you two after your words. Catching yourself, you toy anxiously at your fob, “did you want to ask me something in person before then?”
Nanami nods, finishing the draft of his email before a swoop! sound sends it off. “I wanted to ask you something– and you can absolutely say no if you’d like. It is a personal ask, but it is completely work related, so nothing to fear. I wanted to ask if I could come to your apartment during our remote day to work alongside you.”
He looks over at you, his eyes dipped with kindness. Although his ask was big, and you were driving yourself insane at the idea of him coming over, it was difficult to refuse. Refusing would probably seem offensive to him, no? He was your boss too, so it was platonic and strictly work-related as he pointed out. “Is… there some sort of task that requires us together at this time?”
It was Nanami’s turn to blush, his hands leaving the keyboard to allow his thumbs to fiddle. “It isn’t required by any means… I just find that working physically with you is much more relaxing and productive for me.” Your eyes narrow onto his now rosy cheeks, and the way he shyly tugged at his bottom lip. His eyes still meet yours however, still exuding that same professional aura he always does.
You give yourself a moment before giving him a reluctant nod, “then it is not a problem. I will text you my address and apartment number. Feel free to call me early in the morning in case of anything– I’m usually up and ready around 5:45-ish.”
Nanami nods at your promptness, “perfect. I’ll plan to arrive 5 minutes prior to our shift. And since you’re kindly allowing me into your home, I’ll bring you breakfast. My treat.”
It felt like a dream. You were going to host Nanami in your home, for 8 hours straight, working next to one another on your couch. You quickly collect yourself, and begin to take your leave, “I’ll be back soon.” He smiles and nods, returning back to his work as you secretly leave to go and get his favorite barista hired.
Some time passes, and Nanami makes quite a dent in his work load. But everyone could tell he was feeling the weight of the job and his position. But he does his best to take it easy, unbutton the few top buttons of his blue dress shirt. His collarbones were prominent, his light skin exposed to the cold of the ventilated office. He finally decides to leave his chair and go get his cup of water refilled.
As he strolls to the kitchen area, he hears hush-tone voices already inside. He, for some reason, halts before the doorway, curious as to what his employees could be talking about. Although he was expecting complaints about work, or a conversation about confidential topics, he was not expecting them to talk about you… and him.
“...it has to be true!” One of them exclaimed in a whisper. “It’s obvious that she likes him.”
“Every woman in our office likes Nanami kacho,” another one responds simply, “it wouldn’t be surprising for Y/N to have a crush on him as well. Actually, it would make more sense that she does, considering she’s his assistant.”
“I’m sure I’ve heard her talk about her crush with Haibara kacho,” the previous voice chimes. “I admit to being a little envious when it comes to Y/N… she’s such a lovely woman. I’d be over the moon if she had a crush on me.”
“Ah, he has no idea how lucky he is to have her under his management. I might take my chances and ask Y/N out– I’ve been considering it for a while now...”
Before they could continue, Nanami makes his presence known and walks into the doorway. He looks up at the two gentlemen, instantly being able to associate names to their faces. The two freeze, their faces going pale as Nanami casually walks over to the water machine. Silence pierces the air as the two wait for their boss’s words.
With a deep sigh, Nanami turns around and hovers over his two employees. They went cold from the warmth-deprived tone in Nanami’s eyes. With straight lips, he begins, “some advice… I highly recommend not getting into the hobby of rumor mongering. Or at least, do it outside of work."
"Y-yes, sir!" The two say in unison. "Sorry sir!"
Nanami waves his hand at them, "it's no big deal, really. Just get back to work." They immediately bank on the opportunity and rush out of the kitchen leaving Nanami alone to his thoughts.
It isn't like Nanami was deaf to those rumors. He lives them constantly, being the topic of many whispers by the young women that worked in the office. Even women from other departments would make their way to the Finance team just to take a peek at him. He didn't make much of it however, as he didn't care to be consumed by the crushes and false ideas about him as a partner.
But to think that you could have a crush on him... was conflicting. You were his assistant, the byproduct of his commitment to his job and his work ethic. It would be easy to think nothing of this like he did with every other women. But you were different. You were hardworking, honest, kind, considerate. You were his diligent assistant, whose work proves that she was practically destined to become his assistant.
He walked back to his seat, his mind completely clouded. It was unsettling, this feeling in is chest. Was it regret from his foreseen plans to reject you? Was it surprise that you would have a crush on a stoic man like him? Was it guilt for her to fall for someone like him? Nanami couldn't quite pin point it, but the feeling in his chest had no plans to leave.
As he tries to get comfortable again, you quickly make your way to him. Nanami's hazel eyes immediately fix onto you, but making eye contact felt dazing. He looks at your eyes briefly before his gaze falls onto the cup of coffee offered in your hands. Your face was beaming with excitement.
Written on his coffee cup: thank you for having me. excited to join you guys soon! :) - Tae Ito
"He accepted our offer," you begin with quiet excitement, "he will be joining us starting Monday!" You put down the folder, in which its contents held a signed offer letter. Your whole body was freezing, your face and fingers red from the cold as you left your coat in the office. But the warmth of surprising Nanami was enough to waive the potential frostbite.
Silent gratitude emanates as Nanami kindly takes the cup of coffee from your hands. "So this is what you were scheming," Nanami says in a hush, calm tone. He looks up at you with a sheepish smile, and tries to find peace in the heat of the coffee cup, "thank you, as always Y/N."
You couldn't prove it, but when you realized that Nanami let his coffee go cold, you could tell something was off. And you didn't like that one bit.
Taglist:
@blossomedfloweroflove @numblytemporary @everyoneandtheirmothers @animechick555 @inthedarkshadows000
pls let me know if anyone else wants to be added to the taglist!
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jjk smut#nanami x you#jujutsu kaisen nanami#kento nanami#jjk nanami#nanami kento#nanami x reader#jujutsu nanami#nanami smut
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NOT A GAME — JESS MARIANO
based on a request
masterlist
pairing: jess mariano x reader
description: the playful banter was fun at first, but the line had blurred so long ago that you were starting to get sick of wondering how jess really felt. luckily for you, he’s been thinking the same thing.
warnings: angst into fluff, jess being annoying in a way that makes me love him more lol, swearing ofc,
author’s note: thank you so much for this request, i hope it does jess justice for you— i love writing him so much. i hope you enjoy — sorry it’s quite short i just wanted to keep it short n sweet
———
“Well that’s two hours of my life I’m never getting back, huh,” Jess took a final sip of the drink he’d been cradling for the whole film and threw it dramatically in the trash, his arm slung around your shoulder, “Think I aged like fifteen years in the time they took to wrap up that fuckin’ terrible plot.”
You rolled your eyes, pulling away from him and discarding your own empty cup as he stuffed his hands in his pockets and eyed you curiously, “What, don’t tell me you actually enjoyed that?”
“It wasn’t that bad,” you shrugged, “You’re just being pretentious.”
His brows furrowed at that — he hated when you of all people called him pretentious, and he knew you only ever did it to wind him up.
“Okay, what have I done?” Jess huffed, “You so didn’t enjoy that film, you’re just trying to piss me off. What did I do?”
You looked down at your feet with a grunt, “Nothing.”
“Despite my sweet baby face, I wasn’t born yesterday Y/N. It’s not nothing.”
The truth was that he had done something.
In fact, he was always doing the exact thing that had just tipped you over the edge.
“Fine, Jess,” you drew in a sharp breath, “I just— I don’t want to play this game anymore.”
“Have I missed something or was that movie just so dull that it corroded your brain?” Jess kicked a stone as he watched the frown on your face, “‘Cause I don’t remember playing any games. Not even footsie. What are you talking about?”
You scoffed, “That, Jess. Exactly that!”
“Woah, woah, c’mon Y/N. You’re going to have to give me more than just snapping at me. What the hell have I done?” Jess was growing increasingly frustrated now, but so were you.
You pressed a palm to your forehead, “I’m— What was that in there?”
“I was asking the same question,” Jess’ perplexed expression made your own angered one soften a little.
“What is this? Me and you?” you looked down at the floor as you posed this question, not wanting to argue any longer and too afraid wanting to see his reaction, “Because I’m sick of playing games and not knowing. You put your arm around me at the cinema, you share your popcorn with me when you’d like—literally snarl at anyone else if they asked, we kind of flirt like all of the time but we’re just friends.”
“Just friends, huh?”
You almost felt silly when you looked up at him and saw a smug smile on his face — almost.
But you were trying to open up to him and he was being just as irritating about your relationship as he always was.
“Jess…”
He didn’t say anything for a moment, taking your hand and pulling you around the corner to a park bench where he tugged you to sit down beside him.
“Do you seriously think we’re just friends, Y/N?” he was so close to you that you were sure he could hear your heart palpitations and see the goosebumps springing up on your skin.
“Well we’re not enemies, we spent a fuck ton of time together, and we’re not dating. So yeah, I’d like to think we’re friends,” you huffed, still avoiding his gaze.
He shook his head, “Why the hell do you think I invited you to see a fuckin’ romcom I’d never want to watch? Why do you think I asked to share popcorn? I know I’m the intellectually superior one here,” he paused to nudge your side as if to ensure you understood he was teasing, “But I didn’t think you were dumb enough to miss that I was obviously trying to make this a date.”
You bit your lip, finally returning his eye contact as his soft eyes stared intently into yours.
You drew in another deep breath, “Sure. Jess Mariano, Mr. Always Speaks His Mind, failed to tell me it was apparently a date so I’m dumb for not reading his mind?”
Neither of you had noticed that he was still holding your hand until that moment, and so he pulled it to the corner of his mouth and gave the back of your hand a gentle kiss.
Despite the unfamiliarity of this small but romantic gesture, your heart swelled in your chest and it almost felt natural.
“Y/N, I’ve liked you for fuckin’ ages. Everyone knows that. We flirt and we act like there’s nothing going on when people ask, but I thought at the very least you knew how I really felt,” Jess shrugged, not releasing your hand and instead now rubbing his thumb over the back of it.
You didn’t retreat from his touch, but used your interlocked hands to shove his chest gently, “You’re an asshole, you know that right?”
The small smile tugging at your lips eased the anxiety that had begun to set in. He’d almost started to fear that you didn’t actually feel the same, but your unsteady breathing and the glint in your eye confirmed the opposite.
“I know, I know,” he rolled his eyes, “But that’s all just part of the elusive charm that made you fall madly in love with me, isn’t it?”
You shook your head, “Cocky, aren’t you?”
“Well in my defence, the prettiest girl in Stars Hollow has, like, totally got the hots for me,” your heart fluttered at the smirk still gracing his features, “Hard not to have an ego.”
You just chuckled softly in reply, your heartbeat still racing as he watched you carefully. His own gaze softened now, and he reached his free hand up to cup your cheek.
“Look, in all seriousness I’m sorry this has been so— well, just that I haven’t been more direct about this stuff. But you know me, you know I’m bad at—,”
You squeezed the hand that was still in yours, “I know, Jess. It’s alright. I really like you, and to be honest I’ve been happy enough with any excuse to be close to you.”
“Hmm,” he hummed, leaning forward a little, “Can I kiss you, then? Make up for a shitty first date?”
You blushed crimson at the fact he’d asked, your cheek growing hot beneath his touch, “Of course.”
His lips met yours gently, as though testing the waters. You met his kiss with the same softness at first, but quickly the kiss grew more urgent — as though making up for lost time.
When you finally pulled away, your face was still bright red, and you felt almost embarrassed by how overcome with emotions you were.
“So, uh, about the film?”
He laughed, the loud affectionate laugh he reserved only for you, warming your heart as he sent you a teasing grin and licked his lips.
“And here I was thinking I’d be the one to ruin the moment, huh?”
———
thanks sooo much for reading — i hope this was okay! sorry for the radio silence for a while, i’ve had a lot going on and a LOT of unfinished drafts.
if you wanna read more of my stuff — here’s my masterlist!
#jess mariano#jess mariano imagines#jess mariano x reader#jess mariano imagine#jess mariano x you#jess mariano x y/n#gilmore girls#gilmore girls imagine#gilmore girls imagines
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You're My Best Friend (Homelander x Reader)
Summary: Homelander was a test tube baby, raised in isolation in a cold, clinical lab. But that doesn’t inspire America, does it? Vought tasks you with creating the idyllic backstory for its hero, and what starts as a limited comic run spirals out of control when Homelander himself demands your help in making the story a reality.
Note: Gender neutral reader, but no other descriptors are used. Based on a request by @crash-and-cure as well as a bastardization of one of the sweetest love songs ever written (sorry, John Deacon!) This got kinda meta? Do not interact if you’re under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.
Word count: 2k
Warnings: Emotional manipulation, I guess some gaslighting on Homelander’s part? Do not interact if you’re under 18.
When Vought hired you to create their long-awaited Homelander origin comic series, you were thrilled—until they gave you so little information about his childhood to work with, you weren’t even sure you could come up with one comic, let alone the ten they requested. The details about his childhood were minimal, not even a full printed page—a loving mom and dad, played baseball, did well in school, strong sense of justice from a young age, his friends called him “Johnny.” Your requests to meet with Homelander so you could get some stories from the man himself were constantly denied.
You almost considered dropping the project, until you decided to throw caution to the wind and pull from your own childhood and set it in good ol’ generic suburbia. Some of the storylines were based on your own experiences or things that had happened to people you’d grown up with, though you changed enough names and details to not link it to anyone in particular. Except yourself, of course. Using a pseudonym professionally meant you felt no need to change your own name in the comics. Sure, making your cooler fictionalized self Homelander’s childhood best friend was a bit self-indulgent, but no one would know, really.
To your relief, the editors at Vought loved your ideas, making minor changes before bringing the storylines to their comic artists to bring it to life. The result was Finding Homelander: A Boy’s Journey To Be a Hero. The issues flew off shelves when they were first released, ironically praised for their relatability and authenticity. Vought extended your contract, asking you to produce the cartoon adaptation and another ten issues.
Still, in all of that, you’d never met Homelander. A representative from Vought emailed you to let you know to tune in to his interview on a talk show one day, saying that he’d be talking more about the cartoon project on it. You recognized the host, Tracey, always chipper and having some extravagant giveaway for her audience members. Daytime TV was never your thing, though.
“I think what resonates with so many people is how relatable your childhood is,” Tracey said, holding up a copy of Finding Homelander issue #3, where he saved ‘you’ from getting hit in the face with a baseball at one of his games, catching it with ease. It’d been the happy ending to a short storyline of him struggling to find his place on the team and you encouraging him to not give up. “You and Y/N were pretty close, do you still keep in touch?”
“You know, Tracey, not as much as I’d like, unfortunately. Adulthood can be so busy, you need to cherish those childhood memories,” Homelander said. “I did give them a call when the comics first came out, and wow, the laughs we had over those old antics of ours. Talk about a walk down memory lane!”
You guessed the bullshitting was all part of the promotional circuit for Homelander. Knowing this childhood of his was your own fabrication, you couldn’t help but wonder what else about him was fake. Maybe he wanted to maintain his privacy, you could certainly understand that. You couldn’t shake the voice in the back of your mind that said it wasn’t so simple, that the narrative Vought pushed was a cover to hide something in Homelander’s past.
“Now, I’ve heard rumors of a cartoon show based on the comics in the making, is this true?”
“It is! I’m excited for this project, getting back to my ‘roots’ so to speak. I’ll be voicing myself, of course, but it’s funny you’d bring up Y/N, because they’ve agreed to voice themself, too.”
“How fun!” Tracey exclaimed over the roar of the talk show crowd’s applause and cheers. “I guess this is the hopeless romantic in me, but I hope this reconnection leads to something a little more. I’m just a sucker for childhood sweethearts!”
Homelander laughed along with the host’s giggles, “Well, you never know.”
You balked at the television, mouth agape. Surely he couldn’t be talking about you. ‘Y/N’ could be anyone with your same features. Vought had probably hired a professional voice actor for the role and were pushing the authenticity angle. The whole situation felt odd.
When you checked your work email again on your phone, you nearly dropped it on the floor.
SUBJECT: Meeting with Homelander This Week
The email contained a list of days and times throughout the week wherein Homelander would be free, apparently wanting to meet you to thank you for the success of the comic series and discuss upcoming work. Yeah. That last part you sure as hell wanted to discuss too. You responded with the soonest time available, in a meeting room in Vought Tower the following evening. As soon as you hit ‘send’, you wondered what exactly you were getting yourself into.
Anticipation filled your gut as you went about your day leading up to meeting the supe himself. What would he be like, really be like? Was there even a version of Homelander that wasn’t hopelessly manufactured for the masses? You knew then that his upbringing was a lie, and thus stood the probability that so much else was, too.
When you stepped into that meeting room, you hadn’t been expecting his face to light up at the sight of you.
“Homelander, hi, it’s great to—“
“No need to be so formal, Y/N! You can call me Johnny, just like old times,” he said cheerfully, in on a joke you clearly hadn’t been aware of.
“Sorry, Johnny,” you said, playing along. “It’s great to see you again.”
He pulled you in for an unexpected hug that you returned. “Figured we should catch up before things really start getting crazy, don’t you think?”
You nodded, your nose brushing against him as you did so. Just as your lips parted to offer an apology, he smiled, shooing away the assistant who’d accompanied him out of the room.
He sat down, motioning for you to do the same.
“Gotta say, I’m a fan of your work,” he said.
“Thank you,” you said. “I’m not sure I understand exactly what’s going on, though.”
“What’s there to understand? I’m not allowed to know more about my best friend, our lives together growing up?”
“How did you know it was me?”
“Wasn’t hard for me to put two and two together, but considering everyone else around here has their head up their asses, they have no idea,” he said, before lowering his voice conspiratorially and giving you a charming smile. “I haven’t told anyone. What’s a secret between friends?”
You nodded, overwhelmed by the intensity of his attention on you. “What do you want to know?”
He sighed, resting his head on his hand. “Everything.”
So you told him. Not quite everything, of course, but enough to abate his curiosity. At least for the time being. His interviews were sharper, more specific with details rather than rattling off whatever had been in the comics. You watched in shock as convincing photos of his Little League days were posted to his social media accounts, anecdotes provided by his increasingly frequent conversations–or more like interrogation sessions–with you, but in his style, of course. It was almost scary what the graphic design team at Vought could accomplish, not that you’d ever know how, exactly, as they were all under the same strict NDA that you were.
He started spending more time with you, too, and after a while, it did seem like you were old friends. Part of you flinched whenever you called him Johnny, because Johnny wasn’t even real, but with your complacency, this fabrication was slowly morphing into a strikingly tangible memory. With each conversation, he drew you deeper into the world you’d been paid to create for him until you found yourself slipping up.
You’d been showing him a goofy stuffed monkey on your desk, a cute little thing with big sparkling eyes. A prize for getting two out of three at the ring toss. Probably spent more money winning it than it was actually worth, but it was about the effort, the memories made.
“You remember, don’t you? You won it for me at the county fair,” you said without thinking.
He laughed in agreement, as if he actually had. Except he hadn’t. Your high school boyfriend won it for you a week before graduation. Sensing the mood shift, he set down your prize and looked at you with the same intensity he had when you first met.
“It’s been a while since we were there, huh?” he said. “Why don’t we go back?”
You furrowed your eyebrows. “Go where?”
“Home.”
With a strong arm around your waist, he took off for your hometown. You could hardly tell which way was up or down, he was flying so high, but he didn’t seem to mind the way you clung to him at all. When he finally landed, you recognized the community baseball field where all of his fictional games were set.
“Geez, it’s like nothing’s changed,” he said cheerfully.
You looked at him in disbelief. How long was he going to expect you to go along with it? Or maybe the question you should have been asking was, how long were you going to enable him? The end wasn’t anywhere in sight as he took your hand, and you walked him through your childhood, further enmeshing him in it until you arrived at the house you grew up in.
The middle of the day, no one was home, and so you let yourselves in like you owned the place. Suddenly, the house seemed too small for a man like Homelander to occupy, but he was engrossed in the details of it. He scanned the kitchen, no doubt inspecting the contents of the fridge and cabinets with his x-ray vision. Moving onto the living room, he stared at photos on the wall, the magazines and DVDs that were strewn on the coffee table, giving away your parents’ taste in entertainment.
“Which one was your room again?” he asked.
You swore you could feel his breath on the back of your neck as you wordlessly led him to your room. Each step down the hall felt dangerous, as if you were about to walk into a trap. Face-to-face with the closed door, you opened it, standing aside while Homelander looked around, from what you had hanging on the walls to the knick-knacks you’d left behind.
An uncomfortable tension settled over the room when Homelander closed the door of your childhood bedroom. An odd blend of hurt and amusement spread across his face as he observed the way you were eyeing him, body ready to fruitlessly run from him the way a rabbit would a hawk.
“C’mon, after how long we’ve been friends, I would never hurt you,” he said, as if reading your mind. “We’ve been through so much together. I mean, we were each other’s first kiss.”
You froze. Issue #9. That was something Vought’s editors had added, claiming a romance angle would make the series appeal to the younger female demographic. You hadn’t thought much of it at the time.
He slyly backed you into the wall, leaning over you as you slinked down the slightest bit.
“Show me how we did it,” he whispered, his hand caressing your cheek. “So clumsy and nervous, I can even feel you…quivering.”
“Homelander, I don’t know what you’re—“
He tsked. “Y/N.”
You let out a shaky breath, “Johnny—“
He hummed in satisfaction. “It’s alright. I know it’s been a while.”
You let him kiss you, sweetly in a way that put your actual first kiss to shame. His lips were soft against yours, his tender movements intentional as he cradled your face, pulling you the slightest bit closer to him when you kissed him back.
A sense of familiarity settled over you, warm and comforting like pulling a blanket out of the dryer on a chilly evening. Every time it seemed like you were beginning to overthink the situation with Homelander, he drew you back in with the kiss, a more than effective distraction until you pulled away with a dazed smile on your face.
#homelander x reader#homelander x you#the boys x reader#the boys x you#the boys tv#the boys amazon#homelander#homelander the boys#the boys
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The Obsidian Pearl (II)
— pairing: mermaid seokjin x (f) reader — word count: 8.1k — warnings: yandere, descriptions of death/blood/violence, explicit sexual content! dub-con touching/oral sex (f. receiving) - the smut is marked with * if you want to skip it — summary: Sailing through The Dead Man’s Passage is a death sentence and the whole crew knows it. But with the ship’s stocks dwindling fast, your captain is left with no other choice. When a haunting melody makes the crew jump ship one by one, you find yourself alone with the demon lurking in the murky red water. As the creature beckons you to jump into the icy ocean – “come to me, pet” – you find that you can’t do anything but obey.
Part 01 - 02
It's almost night when the siren, Seokjin, visits you again.
Enough time has passed for the air to turn chilly, carrying small gusts of wind that pass right through your clothes. The sunshine that warmed you only hours ago feels like it might never return, not when your surroundings are so terribly dark. You can feel the chill deep in your bones, fear nipping at your skin, clinging to you like frost on a dark winter night.
You're huddled as deep in the cave as you can go, hugging your knees to your chest. You're exhausted, eyes as dry as sand, but you know you can't rest. Call it instinct after being on the sea for so many years – of constantly being trapped on a vessel with people who might turn on you at any second – you tend to develop a hunch of when bad things are going to happen.
You can feel it in your body now, the low buzz that keeps you alert, reminding you that you are not safe no matter how tired you may be.
The reason for it comes only a few minutes later, a terrible scraping sound reverberating through the silence as something heavy is pushed up on the ledge of the stone dock. You free your stiff limbs, wincing as you whip around to face the source of it. It looks to be some sort of chest, the short distance and the faint moonlight not doing much for your vision.
As the item is pushed forward with another forceful shove, your heart jumps to your throat. You've seen this chest before – the iron insignia on the top is all too familiar to you. It belongs, no, belonged, to your captain. You don't dare to move closer though, not when there's only one creature who could've brought it to you.
Seokjin emerges from the water just seconds later, heaving himself up on the rock. He looks like something out of your worst nightmare, long hair covering his face as he claws his way forward. The shadows make him look all the more terrifying, the dark night blending together with his tail and hair like the perfect camouflage. If it wasn't for his strikingly pale skin, you never would've been able to make him out at all.
He settles back against the same rock as he did before, parting his hair to expose his face. Shivers run down your spine as Seokjin's black eyes find yours through the darkness. They strike just as much fear into you as they did last night, this morning, the emptiness just another reminder of how unearthly he really is.
It was foolish perhaps, but you had found yourself hoping that Seokjin had forgotten about you. That he had come across another ship to terrorize and another human to keep for his little experiments. You wouldn't have minded rotting away in the cave alone if it meant you never had to look upon him again.
The siren clicks his tongue. "I bring you a gift and you dare to look disappointed? This won't do. Come closer, little human."
You don't move, self-preservation rooting you to the ground.
"You humans freeze to death if you get too cold, do you not? Your skin is quite thin, fragile." Seokjin delivers his point by parting his mouth more than necessary, those horrible teeth coming to view behind his plush lips. "Your brain might be too small to remember but the water I dragged you out of was ice cold, pet. The air will only grow colder the longer you wait."
Seokjin doesn't have to use his thrall to make you understand that you have no choice in the matter. If you don't come forward willingly, he'll will either drag you there himself or let the elements do you in. The part of your brain that fears the unknown more than the creature in front of you, urges you to move.
You don't even have it in you to feel humiliated as you crawl forward, terror and cold stiff limbs making it impossible to walk. Seokjin's stare hangs over you like a heavy cloud, slowing you down even further.
He's close, way too close, as you kneel in front of the chest. You would be able to touch his stomach, feel where his skin transforms into scales if you just stretch your arm out.
Seokjin huffs as you linger, the sound making you jump as he impatiently says, "Go on."
You reach for the iron key that's miraculously still in the lock, your busted shoulder aching with pain as you have to twist it with more force than usual. A small stream of water is forced out, running down the side of the chest as you slowly open the lid with shaking hands. You've never held much gratitude for your captain, but for once, you can't be more thankful for his arrogance. He always left the key in the lock and never worried about a greedy crew, because, as he would always say; who in their right mind would dare to steal from a Captain?
You release a shuddering breath as you push it open, the iron hinges voicing their displeasure with a long squeak as the contents are revealed to you. The fur-lined coat your captain bought in the East lays on top of an array of shirts and pants, the fabric hardly even damp as you pick it up. You had assumed everything to be drenched, but it seems the carpenter your captain had been boasting about was the real deal after all.
You pull the coat into your lap, warmth immediately swaddling your legs.
A gift, Seokjin had called it, but you doubt the siren is simply that generous.
"How did you get this?" You quietly ask, voice trembling.
You know the stories of how the ships make it out unscathed, of how it's only the crews that go missing. But unless Seokjin can sprout legs, there's no way he was able to grab it on his own. The siren has a tail and a heavy one at that. As unearthly as he is, you doubt he's strong enough to drag himself all the way up the ship and into your captain's quarters. Never mind that he would do all of that for a chest he didn't even know existed.
"I sank the ship," Seokjin sounds like he's rolling his eyes, although you're not too sure he's even capable of doing so. "It took you too long to wake from your slumber and I was bored. I have not explored a wooden vessel in many moons and this chest looked interesting. I was foolishly hoping for treasure, not silly human clothes."
The siren smacks his tail against the water, irritated.
Even though the chances of getting out of here were slim, you were holding out hope that if you only got to the other side of the mountain, you might be able to use the ship to get away. It would be near impossible to do with only one person and not the whole crew it actually needs, but when something as ludicrous as a siren exists, manning one ship by yourself doesn't sound all that far-fetched in comparison.
You release a shuddering breath, blinking away the tears that gather. With that escape route gone, the ship now resting on the bottom of the sea with the remains of your crewmates, you are truly helpless.
Trapped.
You hope the darkness hides the way your face crumples. Lip wobbling, you try to focus on the chest in front of you, not wanting to give into panic with Seokjin so close. You have to save the freakout and the despair for when you're alone. It wouldn't surprise you if the siren can smell your fear.
Leaning forward, you notice what looks like a thick scarf, the material soft enough that it might serve as a decent pillow. You're not sure if Seokjin is planning on leaving the chest or taking it with him, so this might be your only chance at grabbing items you'll need to survive.
Just as your fingers close around the scarf, picking it up, you feel something sharp poke into your cheek.
Your whole body goes rigid at the touch, your muscles locking up as you realize that one of Seokjin's claws is currently digging into your skin. You hold your breath as he slowly trails it down your throat, the sharp nail leaving a sting in its wake. You don't have to touch it to know that it's a deep scratch, blood rushing to the surface to clot the damage.
"Look at me."
You don't. You can't. You don't want to know what will happen when you do.
"Look at me," Seokjin repeats, more force in his voice.
It makes something in the back of your mind tickle.
You clutch the coat in your lap tighter, focusing on the soft fur between your fingers as the siren's voice grows in annoyance.
You're not sure how many times he repeats his command but between one blink and the next, you suddenly find yourself staring right at him. Your mind feels hazy like it's been stuffed with cotton and shaken around, turning everything upside down.
The hard set of Seokjin's mouth disappears as you finally meet his gaze. The siren hums under his breath as he moves his hand to your face, cupping your jaw. It's like being a spectator in your own body, your eyes refusing to waver no matter how much you want them to. You can feel the ghost of his claws on your skin, not quite digging in but present enough that you know it's a threat. That he can mess you up beyond repair if he feels like it.
Seokjin leans in, watching you curiously as your throat bobs, lips struggling to part.
Your tongue feels like lead, awkward and too heavy, but you use all of your willpower to open your mouth, slurring as you ask, "What did you do?"
Seokjin breaks into a grin, a forked tongue peeking out to lick his terrible teeth. You can feel his breath wash over your face as he speaks, the stench of decay and death making your stomach roll. "You're quite the strong one, pet, I'm glad I brought you here. I think you'll prove to be very entertaining."
The siren gives you one last look, his cold fingers leaving your face as he leans back. You feel some of the thrall leave you as Seokjin turns and slowly sinks back down into the dark water, the small distance making it a little easier to think. You still can't look away from him, eyes tracking his movements even as he submerges himself completely under the surface. He's only gone for a moment before he returns, one of his pale hands coming into view above the water just before something wet splatters at your feet.
"Eat."
Seokjin doesn't wait for an answer. The thrall snaps the moment he's gone, his strong fin carrying him away in seconds.
You gasp, hand shooting up to feel your throat. The scratch he left behind aches and your head is beginning to throb from whatever he did to it. You tear your eyes away from the lake, glancing down at the thing that Seokjin left you with.
The moment you manage to make out what it is, you flinch back, jerking your body away from the mangled fish at your feet. The blood pooling beneath it has already soaked the hem of your trousers, staining it dark.
The sight disgusts you but you can't ignore the hunger gnawing at your stomach. The water in the lake felt fresh enough to drink, but it's been almost two days without any food and you're starving.
There's not a bone in your body that trusts Seokjin but you can't turn away a free meal. You have no guarantee that he'll bring you something again and you'll have no chance of escaping if you're too weak to move.
You poke at the fish, shuddering as its half-torn body twitches.
If only you still had your knife. At least then one of you could be shown some mercy.
You wake with a gasp, chest heaving with panicked breaths as the fog lifts. It's like someone snaps their finger right next to your ear, violently jerking you out of a slumber you weren't even aware you had fallen into. Your awareness always comes back to your first, keeping your mind awake and trapped while the rest of your body slowly shakes off the thrall you've been under.
You're near the edge of the dock again, kneeling in front of Seokjin. The siren has his head tucked against your neck, his long tongue dragging over your skin, licking off the sweat that rolls down your throat. Every part of you feels sticky and damp, the top of your head burning from the blazing sun. You have no way of knowing how long you've been sitting here but judging by the way your brain is practically mush from the prolonged exposure, it must've been a while.
You shudder at the next flick of his tongue, nausea swirling in your stomach. The days have been passing much in the same manner, every new turn of the moon leading you closer and closer to Seokjin. This isn't the first time you've felt his cold skin against yours, you've woken up to your hands and face being touched many times, but it's never been this intimate before. Never this dangerous, with his sharp teeth so close to your delicate skin.
Seokjin pauses, his tongue pulling away from your skin as he muses, "That lasted shorter than expected, little human."
There's no emotion in the siren's voice, nothing that gives you an indication of whether he's happy or angry. He's simply just... observing. Treating you like the experiment he's decided you are. The siren seems fascinated with your ability to somewhat resist his thrall and he has made it his mission to test out how well your resilience works. That seems to be the only reason he's keeping you here.
You can't quite tell how long he's been at it, though. Time feels wonky when you don't know how much of it has passed. The only thing you can be certain of is that it's already been well over a week, maybe even two since Seokjin trapped you here.
"Please stop," You whimper, voice shaking as you feel his hot breath against your throat, teeth skimming lightly over your skin.
To your surprise, Seokjin listens. The siren pulls back, the corner of his lip curled into a displeased snarl. He looks nothing short of irked that his fun was cut short, a series of clicking noises gurgling in his throat as he gives your shoulder a shove, breaking the last of his thrall.
You scramble backward the second your limbs feel like they're once again attached to your body, dragging yourself into the safety and shade of the cave. Nothing is stopping Seokjin from following after you, he's strong enough to pull himself into your makeshift shelter, but he seems content to stay on the edge of the stone dock - always resting against the same flat rock.
You sprawl out on the ground, panting from the heat. The cool stone seeps slowly through your clothes, bringing your temperature down to something that feels less like you're boiling alive in your own skin. But even as the heat begins to recede, you still feel terrible. The thrall always leaves you nauseous and the shock of snapping out of it in such close proximity to a dangerous predator doesn't exactly help. You're constantly on edge, heart locked in such a rapid beat that you're worried it's shaving years off your life.
Biting back a groan, you sit up, using your captain's chest for support. It wasn't easy moving it into the cave, not with a shoulder that ached with every push. The fear that Seokjin might take it back if you left it was the only thing that kept you going, the clothes inside were far too precious for you to take that risk.
The siren hasn't mentioned the chest since the night he left it but it's impossible to tell if your actions bothered him. He's too good at masking his emotions, his face a blank canvas. Some nights, you do admit that you wonder if he even has them – if he can feel the same things that you do.
You're not quite sure which answer scares you the most.
One thing you do know though, is that you need to learn more about him. You're not one to be a sitting duck and this is driving you insane. Seokjin must have some weakness, something you can use against him or that might aid you in your escape. Perhaps he hibernates in the colder months or he needs to swim for a set amount of hours for his body to function. You refuse to believe he's invincible.
"So," You swallow thickly as Seokjin turns his lifeless eyes to you, "You mentioned that you have brothers?"
Your voice is barely audible enough to carry over to Seokjin but it sounds much too loud within the walls of the cave. You ball your hands in your lap, hoping your expression doesn't show just how terrified you are of willingly calling upon his attention.
"Indeed, pet."
"How many do you have?"
The siren raises one hand to the sky, inspecting his sharp claws. "Enough."
He obviously doesn't want to answer that topic – move on.
"Y-you said something about a sea witch. How did you find them?"
"Now why would you want to find a sea witch, little human? Unless you want to get turned into a fish, they are of no use to you."
"Right, o-of course," You exhale, biting back the urge to throw some colourful language his way.
You try a few more, but there are only so many meaningless questions you can ask before you give up, tired of the aloof answers you get in return. It's like he knows exactly what you're trying to do. Considering Seokjin isn't willing to disclose any type of information, even knowledge that is worthless to you, it's pretty clear that you can't bait him into revealing anything useful.
He's too smart.
Seokjin stretches his arms above his head, showing off his lean muscles as his back pops. The crunches sound terribly loud, like he's trying to crack open every vertebra in his spine.
He lets out a satisfied sound, head tipped back to soak up the sun as he says, "Now that I have answered all of your questions, little human, you should give me something in return. Tell me something interesting about yourself, pet, something that you deem worthy of a meal. It is horribly tiresome to fetch your food at the time."
You suppose it was absurd to think that the siren would continue to feed you without demanding something in return. Perhaps he's already starting to tire of his little experiments.
You pick at your nails, the splintered edges uncomfortable and raw.
There's only one story a creature like him will find interesting – one you swore you would never tell anyone that wasn't there to witness it when it happened. But, as twisted as it is, the siren might be the only one who won't judge you.
The faded scar on your throat burns as you swallow, the phantom pain of a knife digging into your skin flaring up as you say, "I killed someone."
Glancing up, you find Seokjin staring straight at you, his dark eyes glittering under the sun. His tail does a small wiggle, fin smacking the water in what you can only assume to be intrigue.
"Tell me more, pet."
"He was sick," Your hand flies to cover your mouth as your lips move without your permission. You didn't even feel the thrall this time, no push or tug to indicate that Seokjin was in your head. There's only a small tickle at the back of your brain, like you need to scratch your scalp.
Seokjin has never used the thrall on you twice in one day before now. It must be that you're already tired from earlier that he can affect you so easily, that he can slither his way back in without you even noticing he's trying.
Seokjin grins, lips stretched into a terrible smile as he says, "Go on."
"W-we had been out on the sea for many months, five full moons, and we still had a few to go before we would reach the nearest port," You say, taking a measured breath.
"One of our cooks starting acting strangely – he was suddenly anxious and angry, exploding at any minor inconvenience. He started picking fights with the crew, causing too much tension. It was cabin fever, we all had it, but for him, it was worse. It made him sick."
You let your hands fall to your side, fingers uselessly grasping for the knife that isn't there anymore.
"He attacked one of the cabin boys in the kitchen, sliced two of his fingers clean off as he delivered him a freshly caught fish. He followed the poor lad up on deck when he ran, waving his knife around and screaming at anyone that tried to calm him down. The sea... she can be brutal, too big. Staring at the same unchanging horizon every day had chipped away at his sanity, left him with nothing but fear and anger at being trapped by the same water day in and day out."
Seokjin says nothing, his black eyes staring you down as he waits for you to continue.
"He tackled me to the ground before I even knew what was going on. When I looked him in the eyes, I knew he wasn't there anymore. There was no recognition, no emotion. Just survival. He managed to give me this while I was trying to fight him off," You lightly touch the scar on your neck, tracing it from the bottom of your jaw down to your collarbone.
"The others couldn't pull him away either, he was like a beast. I am, was, vice-captain of the ship. It was my duty to protect my crew. I couldn't let him hurt anyone else," Your voice falters as you stare at the monster in front of you, at the creature you couldn't protect your crew from. The cook was a weak mouse in comparison.
"So, I... I killed him. He wouldn't have made it even if we had locked him up, he was simply too far gone. It was more merciful to let him die."
The siren is silent for a beat, his eyes roaming over your face before he tips his head forward and laughs. At least, that's what you think he does, the series of weird clicking noises that gurgle in his throat sounding oddly joyful despite how grating the sound is.
"You truly are fascinating, pet. I made a good choice letting you live."
The hand by your hip clenches, your heart beating painfully in your chest. You wish you still had your knife, that you had something you could drive into Seokjin's throat to hear him choke on his last breaths. You weren't expecting sympathy, but you also didn't think he would find your story entertaining – funny, even. He truly is terrible.
You say nothing in return, your anger making it hard to think; to feel anything but the hatred stirring in your heart.
Seokjin, seemingly pleased with what he heard and not at all bothered by your silence, does what he always does and leaves the moment he gets what he wants.
You stare at the empty spot he left, the wet imprint of his long body the only thing left behind.
You're not sure how long you sit there, caught up in old memories and emotions you've tried to ignore for so long, but the sun has started its descent by the time the siren makes his presence known again.
This time, you watch as Seokjin leaves you not one, but five fish, all half mangled and twitching as the life drains out of them. He flings a few pieces of driftwood up on the dock, staring at your curled-up form for a minute before he swims away.
It's only when your stomach starts to rumble that you force yourself to rise to your feet, walking slowly over to the haul the siren brought you. The wood is wet and soggy, but a few days out in the sun should hopefully dry it enough that it might be used to start a fire.
You let out a humorless chuckle as you drag your hands across your face. You truly are little more than a mutt, waiting for your master to reward you when you do something he finds amusing. How embarrassing. How weak.
No matter how rabid you feel, you know that biting the hand that feeds you will do you no good here. If you want to survive, to live, perhaps it's time to roll over and accept your fate.
You're not sure if you're getting better at resisting the thrall or if Seokjin just isn't bothering to use it at full force anymore, but you no longer blackout when he comes to visit you. It feels like you're in a dream, vision spotty as you watch yourself move forward on unsteady feet, falling right into Seokjin's waiting arms. The siren holds you close to his chest, arms squeezing you so hard the pain registers even through the haze.
Weeks have passed since the day you told Seokjin your story, since you slowly began to surrender to your situation. The siren still follows the same routine but he seems to have sensed your compliance – your defeat. Your mind is still blocked off, barred from taking control of your body, but now you're able to feel everything that was only a dull memory before. Perhaps the darkness, the blissful ignorance, was a small mercy compared to this.
Seokjin lets out a guttural sound as he pushes his face into your neck, his sharp claws slicing through your shirt. His tongue drags over your skin with a desperation you haven't felt before, teeth nicking your skin.
As terrible as it is, you've grown used to Seokjin's touches, his presence. On lonely nights, you find that you almost wish to see him, just so that you don't have to face the darkness all alone.
You have come to know what to expect from Seokjin but this is new, dangerous, a far cry from the stoic and in-control creature you've been around for the past months.
The siren's hold on you is crushing, your bones aching under the strong pressure. He skims his nose along your skin, huffing as he breathes in your scent. There's a pause, a stretch of heavy silence, and then blinding pain as sharp teeth sink into your already injured shoulder.
Your vision whites out, ears ringing as the thrall suddenly snaps and everything comes rushing in at once. Your shoulder is spasming, muscles jerking with agony as Seokjin digs his teeth in deeper, an animalistic sound tearing from his throat as he draws blood.
It hurts. Gods, it hurts.
A wounded scream rips from your throat as you attempt to claw at his face, desperate to get his teeth out of your shoulder. Seokjin growls as you deliver a deep scratch on his cheek, pulling back just a smidge to create the sound. Seeing an opening, you tangle your hand in his long hair, jerking it back with all your might. You're lucky Seokjin doesn't tear a chunk of your shoulder out as his head snaps back, surprise making his tight grip around you lessen. It's just enough for you to fight your way out of his embrace, body shaking with fear and adrenaline as you roll onto the stone.
Grabbing your shoulder, you try to scoot backward on the slick ground, your own blood making it hard to get enough friction.
Your legs falter as Seokjin turns in your direction, the siren looking like he crawled right out of hell. His expression is crazed, hungry, blood dripping from his unhinged jaw. You can see straight down his throat from how open his mouth is, his stained teeth and black eyes creating the perfect picture of a demon.
Seokjin hisses as you attempt to move, a horrible sound that makes every strand of hair on your body stand straight. He digs his claws into the rock in front of him, using his strong arms to drag himself forward.
"Come here, pet," Seokjin gurgles, his voice hardly even human.
"No no, please don't," You whimper, a newfound urgency propelling you back.
Something in the siren's expression flickers at your broken pleading, like he can't decide if his hunger or entertainment is more important. The confusion, the small sliver of hope it gives you, only lasts for a few seconds before he shakes himself out of it, Seokjin's clawed hand reaching out for your ankle.
Just as he's about to wrap his hand around your foot, your feeble kicks doing little to deter him, you both hear the distant sound of people.
It must be another crew daring to brave the mountains, their rambunctious singing and laughter so terribly out of place. They're either obvious to the stories haunting the pass or trying to compensate for the oppressive silence they no doubt felt the moment the ship entered it. Your heart flutters with longing at the sound of humans singing and laughing, your chest constricting with a yearning you thought died weeks ago. They sound happy and lively – everything the siren is not.
You watch as the same realization hits Seokjin, as he registers the sound of food entering his territory. The siren's jaw pops back to normal as he licks his lips, his empty eyes flickering up to the darkening sun as he says, "The ocean appears to be smiling kindly on you tonight, little human."
Frozen to the spot, you feel your heart drop to your stomach as the siren twists around and dives back into the water with an urgency you haven't seen from him before.
The moment he's out of sight you let out an ugly sob, hope draining out of you alongside the blood that runs down your arm. You tear at the sliced fabric that's barely holding on to your body, wrapping it around your wound with shaking fingers. It's a poor excuse for a bandage, the material soaked through in seconds, but you still tighten it as much as you can, hoping it'll be enough to stop the bleeding. Only left with your undershirt, you can feel the shivers begin to set in, your adrenaline crashing.
You had given up hope on being rescued a long time ago but to have it this close, just on the other side of the mountain, is torture. You can't even alert the unsuspecting crew of what's coming, of the deadly creature that's lurking below their ship.
Scream, scare them off.
Just as the futile thought strikes you, you hear it – him. The gentle hums that cause a hush to fall over the ship.
You cover your ears, not wanting to hear what comes next. You don't know if Seokjin's thrall can still affect you here but you'd rather not take the chance and risk waking up at the bottom of the lake. Closing your eyes, you try to pretend that none of this is real, that all of this is just a terrible, terrible dream.
You let out a weak sob as the first scream pierces the air. Their terrified yells echo between the mountains as they're forced to jump one by one, their final moments brutal and panicked. There's no gentleness in Seokjin's song this time, only urgency as he compels them to their deaths.
He was starving.
For some unfathomable reason, the siren must have been starving himself to the point of breaking, trying to withhold from killing you. It all adds up to why he was acting so out of character over the past few days, his behavior more erratic than normal. He had been trying to fight off the urge to eat you.
If the ship hadn't arrived when it did, if it had only been one second too late, you would've been dead by now.
You curl up into a small ball, body cold and numb to the pain as your shield your ears, wrapping your arms securely around your head. "Thank you," You whisper to the faint moon, guilt twisting your stomach into knots.
Tears drip down your face as the screams continue to reverberate into the night, choked apologies passing through your lips until you feel them going slack. You don't fight the darkness that pulls you under, your soul begging for rest, for a place the screams of Seokjin's massacre can't reach you.
You jolt as a cold hand wraps around your shin.
Eyes flying open, you manage to push yourself up on your elbows before your shoulder gives out, the movement sending a sharp pain all the way down to your fingers. You grit your teeth, breathing through your nose to steady yourself as you glance up at Seokjin.
The siren wraps his hand tighter around your leg, using it for leverage as he drags himself up on the rock. You were close to the mouth of the cave when you passed out but now you're almost at the edge of the dock, feet only a few steps away from the still water below. Seokjin's thrall must've been too strong, urging you to come closer even when you were unconscious.
Perhaps you have truly lost your mind or maybe the night is playing tricks on you, but for once, there's actual emotion on Seokjin's face. The siren grins, his black eyes ablaze with something as he pushes forward. He tugs your legs apart, fitting his body between them. His hands rest on either side of your ribcage, his face so close that you can practically taste the stench of death that washes over your lips with every breath. The water cascading from his skin makes you shiver as it hits your own, the droplets soaking through your undershirt in seconds.
"Pet," Seokjin purrs, inching his face closer.
You hold your breath, limbs frozen with fear, as the small distance between you disappears.
You can only watch and you're horrified to find that the first thought that strikes you is how mesmerizing the siren looks. The moon shines brightly behind him, giving the scales climbing up his stomach and the small patches on his arms an iridescent shine. It's no wonder sirens have been described as beautiful creatures, not with how Seokjin's pale skin is illuminated, practically glowing, under the night sky.
You see his head tilt down, his dark eyes roaming over your bandaged shoulder. The wound only seems to ache more under the pressure of his gaze.
"Good work, little human," Seokjin comments, pleased, "You patched yourself up just to stay with me longer. I am not cruel, I will reward you for this."
What a good dog you are, licking your wounds for your master just so that he can tear them open again.
Your legs twitch on each side of Seokjin's body, resisting the urge to kick at his tail. Angering him will do you no good and you're ashamed to admit that the spark of excitement in his features leaves you curious – makes you want to know just what a siren considers a reward.
Seokjin ducks his head lower, pressing his nose right against your throat. The sharp bite you're expecting never comes – instead, there's only the soft press of his lips roaming over your skin, hurried kisses scattered across your neck. He lowers himself to get more access, nudging your head back as he settles more of his weight on your body. It leaves your hips completely immobile, your arms trembling with the effort it takes to keep yourself raised off the ground.
You hold your breath, scared to move as much as a muscle.
The siren's tongue flicks out to taste your skin with every kiss, leaving a trail of saliva covering your neck. The cold air only heightens the contrast between his warm lips and the slick skin he leaves behind. You're caught off guard when he suddenly attaches his lips to the underside of your jaw and sucks, pulling the sensitive skin there between his lips.
You let out a startled gasp at the sensation, small shudders traveling down your spine as your reaction only seems to spur Seokjin on, the siren quickly finding more spots to mark up.
Your whimper, surprised, as he uses a claw to slice through the bottom of your undershirt, exposing your waist and stomach. His cold hand finds the exposed area immediately, rubbing and squeezing at your skin as he drags his hand up and down your waist. He somehow manages to keep his claws off your skin, only digging them in faintly whenever you grow too quiet. He seems to enjoy the involuntary sounds you make, his actions only growing more and more frenzied as he tries to pull more of them from you.
"Touch me," Seokjin growls against your throat, his voice half strangled as he pushes you down to lie flat on the ground.
Mindful of your aching shoulder, you raise a tentative, shaking hand up towards his arm, grasping his toned bicep. You can feel the power thrumming under his skin, how strong he is from that simple touch alone.
Seokjin is quiet as you slowly glide your fingers up his arm and over his shoulder, feeling how the texture keeps switching between soft skin and hard scales whenever you encounter a small gathering of them. It's a curious feeling, one your brain struggles to fully comprehend.
You continue your touch down his back, careful to steer clear of the fin that protrudes along his spine. He lets out a harsh breath, low clicks gurgling in his throat as you let your hand fall away, not daring to go further than his waist.
You glance up as he pulls back, breath stuttering in your chest as you take in how wild he looks. Seokjin's expression is hungry, but it's nothing like the empty, ravenous stare you saw before he tried to take a chunk out of your shoulder. No, this one is pure desire – lust.
Your stomach flips with disgust as you realize that the hunt, that killing that innocent crew, actually turned him on.
Seokjin pushes himself back, emerging his lower body in the lake before he wraps his arms around your knees and pulls. You slide across the rock, thighs meeting Seokjin's torso as your legs fall over the edge of the dock, the water hitting just above your ankles.
You cry out from the harsh yank, pain flaring up in your shoulder as the still-open wounds are dragged across the uneven surface. The bandage does little to lessen the burn of it, your vision growing spotty as you struggle to breathe.
"You humans are so weak," Seokjin scoffs, his voice swimming in your ears. *
The siren tugs at your trousers, annoyed at how the fabric doesn't budge. He uses his claws, meeting no resistance as he slices right through them the moment it takes a little too long to get them off.
You jerk as Seokjin settles his hands on your exposed thighs, mapping out your skin.
Your vision begins to clear as you get your breathing under control, heat creeping up the back of your neck as you register just what the siren is looking at. Seokjin's torso is blocking you from closing your legs, exposing everything to him.
His dark eyes never waver from your cunt, in fact, you're not so sure he even blinks as he watches you squirm.
"Be still, pet," Seokjin says, the points of his claws pricking into your delicate flesh to get his warning across. He squeezes your thighs, his forked tongue swiping across his lips, "I was right. Your thighs do look delectable."
Horrified, you feel your hole pulse with arousal at Seokjin's words, wetness slicking up your folds.
The siren makes a curious sound at the sight, one hand drifting closer to your cunt as he lowers his head. You tense up, muscles locked tight, as Seokjin runs his finger over your clit. A choked moan makes it past your lips as he begins to rub at it, eyes bright as he lightly pinches your nub.
Receiving pleasure from the creature that has trapped and hurt you is the last thing that you want, but it's been so long since you've been intimate with someone like this. Your body gives in easier than your mind, eager to feel any touch as long as it'll make you feel good.
It's a reward, just take it. Who knows if you'll ever get to feel like this again.
"You're so wet, little human," Seokjin comments as he drags a finger up and down your folds, spreading your arousal around.
"You can't– no, no claws," You hurriedly say as you feel his knuckle graze your hole, stopping Seokjin in his tracks. "We-we're fragile, remember?"
The siren purses his lips, contemplating the information as he moves his hand back to your thigh. Arms curl under your knees before you can even breathe a sigh of relief, the air being punched right out of you as Seokjin dips his head down to lick a stripe between your folds.
"Oh Gods," You gasp, fingers clawing at the stone below you as the siren's forked tongue flicks over your clit with every pass, making your clenching hole gush with slickness.
You let out a broken moan as Seokjin prods his tongue at your entrance, black eyes flickering up to meet yours just as he pushes it inside.
Seokjin has lowered his body even more into the water, leaving him at the perfect height to feast on your cunt. His tongue worms his way into your hole, the wet muscle reaching deeper than what should be possible. Your veins feel like they're on fire, your body burning up with arousal as Seokjin licks and sucks at your folds, nose bumping against your clit. You can't stop yourself from grinding against his face, hips twitching with the little leeway he gives you.
"Seok-seokjin," Your hand flies down to his head at a particularly harsh suck, his teeth skimming over your delicate heat. The mixture of fear and pleasure leaves you lightheaded, your heart beating erratically in your chest.
The siren growls as your fingers curl into his long hair, the sound vibrating against your skin as you tug at his locks. You can't tell if you're trying to pull him away or press him closer, but either way, Seokjin doesn't listen.
You keen as his movements only seem to grow more frenzied, the siren drunk on your taste as he continues to lap up your slick. His grip around your legs is bruising, locking you in place to let him use you as he pleases. You continue to whimper out his name, your little cries only spurring him on further.
The white-hot pleasure in your stomach only continues to build the longer Seokjin eats you out, the pleasure mounting so quickly you don't know what to do with yourself.
You don't want this but you also do – and those conflicting emotions only intensify every suck and lick from Seokjin.
"Good pet," The siren groans, his warm breath fanning across your folds.
You finally erupt as he attaches his lips to your clit and sucks, your orgasm ripping through you so violently you almost feel like you're going to pass out. Your back bows off the ground as you let out a loud moan, your knuckles white from the tight grip you have on Seokjin's hair. You ride out the waves of pleasure that seem to hit you over and over, the siren lapping up your essence like a starving man – like he's never tasted anything as good before.
Your legs are trembling with oversensitivity once you come back to yourself, your cunt clenching helplessly around Seokjin's tongue as he keeps trying to lick up more of your slick. You hastily remove your fingers from his hair, weakly pushing at his head to make him back away.
"Stop, it's too much," You whimper.
Seokjin makes a displeased sound in the back of his throat, tongue dragging through your folds one last time before he pulls back. There's something in the siren's gaze that looks even more predatory than it's ever done before, his plush lips slick with your wetness. *
"You did well, little human. It was about time you gave yourself to me," Seokjin says as he brings his hands to your hips, the corner of his mouth quirked.
"What do you mean?" You say, voice faltering, "You told me to touch you, you made me touch you – made me enjoy this."
The siren tsks, shaking his head as he pushes you down on the stone dock, fingers gliding over your stomach. "Did you feel me using my thrall, little human? You touched me because you wanted to, you gave in because you wanted to feel good. This was all you, pet."
"No, that's not..." You trail off, biting the inside of your cheek. You didn't feel the ticklish sensation that usually comes with Seokjin's thrall when he asked you to touch him. You don't feel sick now, not like you always do whenever you snap out of it.
You... You did all of this on your own volition.
Seokjin sees as the realization dawns on your face, the blooming devastation making his fin hit the surface with excitement.
"That's right," He murmurs silkily, "Accept the fate that the sea has bestowed on you, pet. You were made to be my little plaything."
You feel Seokjin move away as you stare mindlessly up at the twinkling stars. You pull your aching legs together the moment he's gone, bringing them up to your chest. Without the siren's body shielding you from the frigid night air, you just feel cold. So awfully cold.
Just accept your fate.
You hear the water move as the siren ducks under the surface. The lake ripples as he swims, only a few flaps of his tail bringing him up on the side of the dock, where your head has turned. His dark eyes burn holes into your face as he drops something on the stone in front of you, the metal clinking as it bounces off the surface.
Heart stuttering in your chest, you reach out and snatch up your old knife, your shoulder burning as you put pressure on it. Your eyes grow wet as you turn it around in your hand, the familiar weight and polished grain of the wooden handle the closest thing you have to anything that feels like home.
You thought you had lost your knife forever when you jumped off the ship, that it was sacrificed to the sea together with your crew and vessel.
The siren's face is unreadable as you glance up at him, expression flat as always. One thing is for sure though – there's no part of Seokjin that views you as a threat, that's concerned you'll use your knife against him.
It breaks your heart to know that he's right. Even if you kill him, you have no way to get out of here.
Seokjin's pale hand emerges from the water to place something delicately on the edge of the dock. You let out a small gasp as he removes his fingers, the round sphere beautiful as it reflects the stars shining above. It looks to be a massive pearl made out of obsidian, the surface glossy and smooth.
You lay your knife down, meeting Seokjin's burning stare as you bring your trembling fingers forward to pick it up. The pearl is heavy in your palm, your hand barely even managing to close around the size of it.
The moment you pick it up, Seokjin lets out a pleased chitter, his mouth showing off that terrible smile again as he says, "You've proven to be a fascinating pet, I don't think I'll tire of you just yet."
"You're mine now, little human."
a/n: i really hope you enjoyed the final chapter of TOP! writing mer!seokjin was a nice break from my usual stories and it was fun to revisit the tcs-universe. i would love to hear what you think about the chapter – comments and reblogs make my day!! 🥺💖
if you enjoyed the story and would like to support me, you can do so here! 💖
#yandere au#yandere bts#yandere seokjin#mermaid bts#mermaid seokjin#seokjin smut#seokjin x reader#bts x reader#yandere x reader#bts smut
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Fluff | Genshin x GN!Reader What Made Them Fall For You?
Xiao, Wanderer/Scaramouche, Diluc
SUMMARY Headcanons on what makes the genshin pookies fall for you <3
CONTENT Fluff, gender neutral reader, men falling for reader, reader is not traveler but is friends with them, mentions of character's trauma, CHARACTERS ARE 18+
AUTHOUR NOTES I hope to eventually write about all the men >:) it will probably take a while to get to it but I’ll try to keep each one short to encourage myself to finish them all hehe.
XIAO
I think Xiao would start to fall for you because you see through his tough, mean guy act. You can tell that even though his words are harsh and he’s telling you to leave him alone, he’s just protecting you. You might not see it at first, but as you understand his condition, his karmic debt, you understand him. Your realization makes you feel warm knowing that Xiao is really just an innocent soul who wanted to keep you safe. He wants so badly to never hurt anyone ever again and “repent” in solitude even though he has nothing to really repent for; he was forced to kill by his previous master and his karmic debt only comes from killing the remnants of old gods and absorbing their debt.
You start to hang around him more as a result and, much to Xiao’s dismay, he doesn’t hate it. In fact, he actually enjoys how you reignite the warmth in him, the warmth he hasn’t felt in so long since his fellow Yaksha have passed. But did he want to let you in? Shouldn’t he push you away? He’s been alone for so long, why change that now? He felt like he didn’t deserve to enjoy company again, that he didn’t deserve you and your kindness. But maybe just this time… just once, would he allow it.
WANDERER
I think Wanderer would start to fall for you because you make him feel human emotions like he’s never felt before. He’s always searched for a “heart” in the form of a gnosis, thinking it would make him human and make him feel loved and wanted. But even when he had it, it didn’t feel right. Even now, with his anemo vision, he feels more, but still not what he wants. But with you, it feels perfect. Others would probably describe what he feels as something like “butterflies in my stomach” but since he probably doesn’t really experience physical things like that, being a magical puppet and all, he thinks about how you make his vision glow. When he feels a surge of emotions, it feels like he’s using his vision. It feels powerful, happy, strong, and warm, like how a light breeze feels on a sunny afternoon.
You know about his past, what he did, and how the world wronged him. He’s been so traumatized and can barely comprehend his emotions. So when you reach out to him after he regains his memory and a new anemo vision, you try to help him through his emotions in the gentle way that you do. You’re so soft with him and it makes his vision heart ache. He believes he doesn’t deserve you but you try your best to show him otherwise. As you two get closer, you never really notice, but the wind always picks up just a little bit when he sees you.
DILUC
I think Diluc would start to fall for you because you don’t just see him as “the young and rich son of the Ragnvindr family estate.” You see him for him: Diluc. You see a beautiful soul with a broken heart that has put up walls that he intends to never break down again. Others might think that Diluc is just cold, but you and the others close to him know that no matter how cold he may seem, the pure fire that burns inside him always spreads its warmth to those around him. He’s believed for a while now that barely anyone can see what he’s hiding underneath, that people want him for his money, his property, his material things. But you prove him wrong time and time again. You sweetly say hi to him every time you see him not because you want to put on a facade to get on his good side. You don’t help him break up a fight at the tavern and clean up after because you want a monetary reward. You don’t bake him an adorable strawberry cake for his birthday because you want something back. No, you do it because you care, because you have so much love to give, and Diluc feels so lucky to be a part of your life.
He feels his feelings grow for you as time goes on. He feels you getting closer and he barely hesitates to let you in. You didn’t break down his walls, you politely made a door for yourself to enter and it makes you both laugh to think about it that way. He stays reserved around most others but always holds the door open for you, physically and metaphorically.
|| MASTERLIST ♡ || Thank you for reading! ||
#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#genshin fluff#genshin impact fluff#j's silly ramblings#xiao x reader#reader x xiao#wanderer x reader#reader x wanderer#scaramouche x reader#reader x scaramouche#diluc x reader#reader x diluc#xiao fluff#wanderer fluff#scaramouche fluff#diluc fluff#xiao#wanderer#scaramouche#diluc#diluc ragnvindr
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Ding - Round 1
I had this little idea. The meeting came to me in a dream, no word of lie. Classic little trope, I know. I'm hoping to work in some smuttier things down the line. Hope I do it justice and you like it 💕 Erring on the side of caution; probably not suitable for Ramadan
You'll be able to read the rest here eventually: Ding
~3.8k words
As she did the wind took her door not much, nor hard but enough to bump into the car beside her.
The man rolled the window down, his deep green eyes, still blank. “You’ll have t’pay for that,” his voice was low and gravelly.
It was cold and rainy all day long. It made her want to curl up in a ball with a good book on her sofa and not get up for hours and hours. The kind of day where she wished she wasn’t an adult, and she was back home. Back when her dad would make her hot chocolate, they would watch old movies, and he would give insider information into all the hubbub that happened behind the scenes. How the actors interacted and when the props failed or something of that nature.
Her father was a great film critic. But he always said “even ‘bad’ movies have good.” She had seen tons of movies. Summers during school were filled with at least one movie a night. Sick days were made for marathoning series. When they weren’t watching movies, he was taking her to baseball games, teaching her how to cook—“the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, honey”—and making sure that she knew how to be spoiled by any man that deigned to enter her life. She was handy around the house and fiercely independent.
As much as she enjoyed cooking with her dad, baking was her real passion. She loved the science of baking: how butter affected cookies, temperature changed the consistency of cakes, and nothing made her happier than playing with baking powder and baking soda to change the rise of her pastries.
It led her to this spot. This little bakery. School for business and plenty of classes on cooking and baking. At the age of twenty-seven she was extremely lucky; for the last three years her business had been so successful. It was in local and state magazines about a hot spot for tourists and one of those shops that everyone just loved.
She wished her dad could see it but knew he would be proud of her regardless.
A strong gust of wind pulled her from her thoughts. There was a late-night closing report she needed to go over—a favor to her regular closer who needed to get home to her little baby. But really, A Pinch of Sprinkles was her baby and she loved to be in the little shop that smelled like the cupcakes she loved making.
She zipped her coat up, pulling her hood over her hair. It was hardly any further than a 40-yard dash to her little bakery door but in a steady rain like this, she thought not even her rubber boots would be enough to keep her dry for the short little sprint she would have in just a moment. She thought of her dad again, who would have run around to her door and held an umbrella over her head before getting out in the rain. With a deep, sad sigh, she braced herself, opened her door and reached for her umbrella and purse on the passenger seat.
As she did the wind took her door. It wasn't much, nor hard to create real havoc, but enough to bump into the car beside her. “Fuck,” she hissed getting out quickly, her belongings be damned her hair getting wet and stringy almost immediately. She slammed her door shut, turned to the car beside her, and made eye contact with the person in the driver’s seat. Her lips parted slightly, heart hammering in her chest. There was hardly anything more than a bit of a ding on the the stranger's car but the unmoving gaze that returned from the front seat intimidated her immensely.
The man rolled the window down, his deep green eyes still blank. “You’ll have t’pay for that,” his voice was low and gravelly.
It felt like thunder was inside her chest, the way her heart was thudding against her ribs. An intimidating man, his hair not quite buzzed off but not quite much more than an inch or two long, deep, soulful eyes. His gaze didn’t drop from hers. It was like he was having a staring contest.
“I... am... so sorry,” she whispered. She wasn’t afraid to admit she was terrified. It wasn’t that she was terrified of men. But in a dark parking lot and someone who looked so intimidating... well it was a modern-day-female nightmare.
The man smiled and suddenly he was no longer intimidating. Dare she say, he was even cute. The left half of his mouth quirked up and he glanced down at his hands on the steering wheel, tapped a quick rhythm on it, and turned back to her. “S’okay,” he shrugged, rolling the window back up. He stepped out into the rain in the same motion, rain not bothering him as it began to soak his hair and slid down his face. The man was gorgeous. A walking ad for raincoats and umbrellas. He meandered over to where she stood. Her heart still pounded now for an entirely new reason. He shoved one hand in his pocket, the other reached for the blemish on his car. “See, jus’ a ding,” he rubbed his fingers over the little indent a few times before turning back to meet her gaze again.
His grin was adorable.
The air came out of her in a whoosh loud enough to rival the one that took her door right into his car. “I’ll pay for it to be fixed,” she promised.
He chuckled. “S’fine, love,” he assured her. “S’jus’ a ding,” he repeated with a shrug.
By now she was drenched. It wasn’t a downpouring, but the steadiness of the raindrops won out. Without any regard to how she was stood still between the two cars—soaking the inside of her seat as well—he leaned in, grabbed her purse, umbrella and closed the door behind him. Honestly, it didn’t even cross her mind that he was going to rob her. That alone should have raised about ten alarm bells in her head. Instead, for whatever reason, she felt safe.
He handed her own bag to her. It felt so strange. Like she didn’t know what to do with it. He paid no mind to her uneasiness. Without any acknowledgment of their weird meeting and their even weirder interaction thus far, he opened the umbrella and held it over the pair of them to keep a little dryer—even though they were both already soaked.
“Let’s go,” he put a hand on her lower back to usher her out from between the cars.
Reality and her brain finally restarted in her head. “Excuse me? Go where?”
He shrugged. “Well... y’did ding m’car. Assumed y’could at least come with me.”
“Come with you where?” She repeated incredulously.
“Oh right, sorry. D’you have plans? A date?”
“Well...no...”
“Great,” he tiled his head in gesture toward their current path, the opposite direction of her bakery.
“Can you tell me where it is you want me to go?” But she was already following the gentle touch on her back to keep her moving in his current direction. She should have felt unsafe. This was unnatural. How could she not be scared?
He pointed at the municipal building—it was old and pretty. Pretty typical for a little tourist area. Lights caught the raindrops that fell to the ground that hung from ancient looking black iron sconces. Steps up to the main doors were cobblestone and probably brand new as they were replaced over the years. Back in the day it was probably home to many rousing mini-city debates. It was hard to imagine back then it would ever become the bustling little tourist center it was at present. “Y’ever been in?” He asked.
She shook her head. It was like he was a truth serum wrapped in a hot body. There was nothing to explain her reasoning to answering him. “Not since I was little. My dad took me to a magic show here.”
“Well, s’not quite as magical, but s’a fight tonight.”
“A fight?”
“Boxing.”
“Boxing?” She repeated.
“M’not trying t’be rude, are y’hard of hearing?”
“What? No,” she shook her head, confusion coloring her features. “Why?”
“Y’keep repeating everything I say,” his ever-present half-smile was mocking her.
She scowled at him, shook her head again, and halted them in the middle of the rainy sidewalk. “Please stop walking. I’m so confused,” she put her hands on her temples. Why was she even following him? She didn’t need to be with him right now. She could have walked the other direction just as easily and told him to take a hike.
“Mmm... I’d rather not, I’ve got t’get ready,” he explained inching further along the path with the umbrella in his hand still. “M’on the first card.”
“Let’s try this again,” she stood her ground. Deciding now that if he were a serial killer, it would be too late but at least she could have the satisfaction of trying. “I don’t know your name and contrary to my current actions I'm actually very wary of strangers. But I own the bakery right over there in the main square. I was going to run the closing report. I’ll wait there until your fight is over,” she suggested--where she at least had security cameras set up and would have proof of a stranger murdering her with a baking sheet. “You can come get my insurance info then,” she spun quickly away from him, and started back toward the direction of the bakery; he could keep the umbrella.
“Your bakery?” He asked, following her a few paces back.
“Yes. A Pinch of Sprinkles. It’s right over there,” she gestured to the main bustling little square.
“You own the bakery: A Pinch of Sprinkles?”
“Are you hard of hearing?”
He snorted at her and smirked once more. “Alright,” he sighed holding his hands up in surrender. “M’Harry. M’in a boxing match tonight. M’normally in there by now getting ready. But this really pretty girl dinged m’car,” his smile was so boyish for someone who scared the lights out of her only minutes before. “And y’did kind of promise t’come with me as payment,” he looked at her knowingly.
“I did not promise that,” her tone was defensive. “I said I would pay for the dent to be fixed.”
“I know y’did. S’very nice of you. S’not what I want. This is how I want you t’pay me.”
“By coming to watch your fight?”
He nodded eagerly. But she saw his eyes scanning her. He was still holding her umbrella while she continued to get soaked. Her dad would have a conniption at the sight of a stranger holding her umbrella and not keeping her dry. But it didn’t bother her. If anything, she kind of liked it if only because it gave her a chance to look at how adorable he was holding her flowery umbrella when she knew the embodiment of intimidation was going to punch someone at three-minute intervals.
Harry stepped closer, bringing her back under the umbrella. “Look... If y’really need t’go to your bakery, then no, of course m’not going t’stop you. But if it can wait, then s’how y’can repay me,” he shrugged. They were huddled close together under the umbrella. Her hair was a wet stringy mess. She knew very little about boxing. Muhammad Ali, Mike Tyson, Rocky and The Eye of the Tiger. That was about the extent of her knowledge. Boxing wasn’t one of the major sports her dad imparted his wisdom about to her.
“You want me to go to your fight as payment for your car dent?”
“Are y’going t’jus’ keep saying the same thing as me but as a question all night?” She knew she was repeating herself again. She pursed her lips to refrain from asking another question. “C’mon, Cupcake... m’really starting t’run late here,” he pointed to his wrist with an imaginary watch.
Cupcake.
What was she getting herself into?
She took a deep breath trying to calm the bit of nerves. “I’m not really a go with the flow kind of girl. I have a lot of questions.”
He smiled sweetly. Nodded like he expected such an answer, like he knew her already. “M’sure you do,” he agreed. “But... I really need t’go in. Like right now. Louis is going t’kill me if I don’t appear in front of him four minutes ago. When the fight’s over, I’ll walk y’to A Pinch of Sprinkles. We’ll run y’closing report and I’ll answer every question y’have.”
It took every bit of her self-restraint to keep her mouth from repeating him again. We. “There’s also the whole... I don’t know you at all, thing,” she reminded him stepping out from the umbrella again. “Seems like a bad idea on my part.”
It was almost moot though. Even she heard the way her voice sounded like she was caving as she said it. He stepped closer again. “You’re right. S’good instincts that I admire y’have,” he held his phone out to her, the screen catching a few drops of rain. “S’my niece,” he told her of the baby on the lit screen. She was only a few months old based on the picture. “She’s got me wrapped around m’finger and she’s barely old enough t’even see me and know m’holding her. Least that’s what m’sister Gemma says,” he shrugged. The adoration, the love in his voice made her stomach flip. It was unbelievably adorable this scary man was in love with a little baby. His voice was so sweet, it made her feel at ease. “I grew up with Mum and Gemma,” he looked her squarely in the eye. “I know m’about t’go in there and punch another grown man, but m’not dangerous. Especially not towards a girl who parked in a dark parking lot who owns a bakery with a sprinkles pun," her heart softened. “I know y’have questions, Cupcake. But I really need t’go in there,” he was growing the slightest bit impatient. “Louis is gonna send Niall out looking for me and then m’screwed. I need y’decision either way.”
It was perhaps her dumbest idea ever. Even stupider than when she tried to make peanut butter cookies without peanut butter to make them allergy friendly. “Are you going to win?” She asked.
He chuckled. “Think so. Especially if you’re there as m’good luck charm," he winked.
When she thought about this in the future or when she ended up on a true crime TV episode, it would be this moment that thousands and millions of people would say "how could she be so stupid?"
But she started for the building ahead of him, anyway. He fell into step beside her holding the umbrella over her again. “Probably not a good idea to put stock into me when I just dented your car.”
“S’jus’ a ding, Cupcake,” he smiled. “Something t’remember y’by.”
She couldn’t believe how quick and flirtatious he was. He knew all the right things to say and wasn’t even the least bit nervous it seemed. When he went into the ring or something she would have to Google his name and see if she accidentally made a fool of herself talking to a professional boxer. “You’re something else.”
They entered the building from a back door guarded by a man who gave Harry a nod as he ushered the sweet girl inside. “You’re trying to kill him, aren’t you?” A blonde man with an Irish accent asked, running his hand through his hair right as the guard at the door pulled the door shut from the outside. “I was just about to go see what happened this time,” he started back down the hall, deeper into the building. “He’s losing his mind,” he warned.
Harry shrugged. “Met a girl,” he smiled back at her. “She owns the bakery. She’s gonna be my good luck charm”
“Oh, you’re the reason for my freshman fifteen,” the blond man wiggled his eyebrows at her as he turned to her as well.
“Cupcake, this is Niall, he’ll keep an eye on you,” he assured her.
“Cupcake, hmm?” Niall chuckled. “Louis’ gonna kill you,” he skipped ahead of Harry. “Found him!”
“Harold you better have been held at gunpoint!” The shout was nearly hysterical as they approached the open room.
“He was just talking to Cupcake,” Niall was nearly giggling. Louis, she presumed, wasn’t the least bit amused. His face was hard. His blue eyes cold, his jaw as sharp as his words.
“You’re a fucking idiot,” he snapped. “Get your fucking clothes on,” he ordered.
Harry rolled his eyes and winked in her direction. “Hold this for me?” He asked, handing her his phone. The picture of the little babe illuminated the screen and a message from Mum was previewed on the screen so she couldn’t help but read, “Good luck honey bunny!” With about ten four-leaf clover emojis and just as many hearts. It warmed her heart so much to see the message on this scary man’s phone. She had doubts now that he was going to murder her later. A murderer wouldn’t have a supportive mom like that, right? Or a picture of their niece as their phone background? “See y’in a bit, Cupcake,” he gave her arm a squeeze and leaned her umbrella beside the door leading into the next room.
Niall was sipping a beer from a clear cup. “Y’ready, Cupcake?”
She snorted, sticking his phone into her purse alongside hers and nodded. “Sure. M’gonna have a lot of questions.”
He laughed. “Well, I have a lot of questions for you,” he promised pushing a set of double doors and into a thrumming, crowded arena.
It was definitely not a magic show.
Blinking, Niall put a gentle hand on her back and leaned toward her ear so she could hear better. “How do you know Harry?”
“I don’t,” she shouted back to be heard over the crowd. There were people getting things set up, announcements being made, and the like. There were people cheering and she couldn’t believe how big the boxing ring looked. The only boxing ring she had ever seen was the one in Rocky. Moreover, the only thing she knew about that ring was that the audience in the movie was given a free chicken dinner for showing up to the arena and they dimmed the lights, so it looked like more people were there. “My car door hit his car.”
“You hit Clay?”
“Who’s Clay?”
“His car!”
“He named his car, Clay?”
“Like Cassius Clay?”
Again, she didn’t know much about boxing, but she realized immediately that Harry named his car after the greatest heavyweight boxer ever. Oh, Lord. What did you get yourself into? She thought to herself. “Er… yeah… I guess so.”
“And he didn’t...” Niall drifted off curiously. “Hmm,” it seemed he surmised something in his head but didn’t let her in on the secret. He gestured to a chair that was front and center of the corner of the ring for her to sit. He took the seat beside her and leaned close as she spoke to him again. “How do you know Harry?”
“We’ve been best friends since Uni,” he shrugged. “Been icing his bruises for years.”
She nodded. “I see. Are you recently graduated? You said freshmen fifteen?”
Niall laughed. It was contagious. Made her feel safe still. The whole last ten minutes were surreal. She really followed a stranger to a boxing match. She was sitting with his best friend asking questions about someone she hardly knew. “Just a joke, Cupcake. You are single handedly responsible for my recent weight gain since you moved into town. Well, you and that Irish soda bread you made last March. It tasted like home.”
“Really?” She asked excitedly. “I was so nervous about it!”
Talking about sweet treats and breads and cupcakes was more her speed. “Oh, it was perfect, Cupcake. Rivaled my nan’s.”
Well, maybe Harry wasn’t so scary.
At least his friends were nice. Although... “Louis hates me, doesn’t he?” The thought of someone hating her, even though she didn't even know him made her sad.
Niall rolled his eyes. “No, he’s just so sick of Harry being late. Thinks because he’s undefeated on this circuit he can do whatever he wants.”
“Undefeated?” She was grateful Harry wasn’t there to hear her question repeating the same thing Niall said again.
“Not much of a boxer are you, Cupcake?”
“No,” she shook her head. “Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee.”
He chuckled. “Harry’s very good. You’ll see.” Clearly. What did he need a good luck charm if he was already undefeated. She really needed to research him.
As if he heard his own name, he dropped into the seat across from her. It would be inside the ring between rounds but for now it allowed him to gaze at the pretty girl he met moments before. “Hi Cupcake,” his smile was sugary—and she knew sugar.
“Hi,” she murmured, willing her eyes to stay focused on his face and not his bare torso. A litany of tattoos painted his skin and a pair of vines dipped into the band of the shorts he wore. Everything was black. His shorts, his tattoos, his shoes, and his gloves. She could see tape going up half the length of his forearm keeping the bottom of his gloves in place.
“That’s a record for you getting ready. Must be your good luck charm,” Niall nudged her with his elbow. “Didn’t I tell you those soda breads were delicious?”
Harry kept his eyes on her and nodded. “Y’did.”
“Told you,” Niall assured her.
“Wouldn’t shut up ‘bout them,” Harry was unmoving, his body, his gaze. His phone was in her purse. He was looking at her like she was pretty, and she knew her makeup and hair was ruined by the rain. “M’a bigger fan of those raspberry filled cupcakes of yours,” he told her. “S’like heaven in a cupcake.”
“Harry, I swear to God!” Louis shouted.
Harry smiled ruefully, winked at her again and finally moved, heading back toward the sound of Louis’ voice. “Niall, don’t let her leave, yeah?”
Niall saluted him and she watched him leave again. She cleared her throat, turning in her seat toward the door, she exited to get to her ring-side seat. “Good luck, Harry,” she called, unsure if he would hear her over the building crowd.
Harry turned back right as he got to the door and winked again. “Thanks Cupcake,” he called back loud enough for everyone to hear that he was talking to her. Niall chuckled, shook his head, and put a friendly arm across the back of her chair.
He was kind enough to lean to her ear so that others wouldn’t hear the next thing he said because it made her blush and nearly melt to the floor right in front of Harry’s best friend and the very ring, he would be punching another grown man in just a few minutes. “Hope you like your boyfriends like your frosting, Cupcake. Because that man is already whipped for you.”
--
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Farewell, Captain. (Levi Ackerman x injured!reader)
Cw: mentions of blood.
Summary: Levi Ackerman finds you in the verge of death.
-
It was going to rain
You bit down on your lip in worry. This was bad.
The expedition was supposed to be a small, short one. Just to catch a new titan or two for Hange's experiments. Go out, catch them, come back.
It was a small squad, about 15 people only. Section Commander Hange had picked out only a few to accompany. Being Levi's second, and one of the most treasured soldier in the military, usually they wouldn't call you for such simple tasks. The only reason you were asked to tag along was because you were also section commander Hange's assistant, you helped them in conducting the titan experiments. You didn't really mind as you had nothing better to do anyways. And by now, these small expeditions doesn't scare you as much as they used to.
You were ranked at the rear of the formation, along with two more. On one side, Sasha rode besides you, deeply focused. Captain Levi had, for some reason ordered her to come as well, to your joy (Though you suspected it was more of a punishment to stop her from stealing food, since banning her from meals only made the problem worse). You were glad hearing your best friend's coming too as the journey would be far less boring, although Sasha wasn't too enthusiastic. She kept groaning about how hungry she was and how she'd have to wait a couple more hours before she gets some food. (Irritated also because captain Levi had stripped her out of all hidden snacks before setting out.)
On the other side of you were a new recruit. She was in Section Commander Hange's squad, recruited because of her apparent brains in therotical knowledge. But Hange wanted her to have a bit of experience on the outside world too, so there she was. First ever expedition. Poor thing was shaking like a leaf.
Two nights ago, the special operations squad was sent out to clear the area out of any titans, baiting them towards where the trap was set along the South-East abandoned Tsuchou town. So the route was expected to be safe. And though precautions were taken, you and your teammates were much more relaxed, as you rode along, joking and laughing.
Except the new girl. She'd been rigid as stone since you've set out.
Suddenly, the girl closed the distance between you, pulling her horse so near, your legs almost touched. You looked at her, surprised. She'd been keeping noticable distance from you and Sasha until now.
"It's... it's going to rain, won't it?" She muttered quietly, glancing at you from the corner of her eyes.
You looked up and nodded, eyes shifting to the sky. "It appears so, yes."
"How long are we going to go on for?"
"Just a little further. We should be by the traps in about an hour."
The girl's shoulders visibly sunk, her face falling. "Another hour?"
"Hey," you called out softly, noticing the fear in her body language. She looked pitiful. "It's going to be fine. I know exactly what you must feel like but I promise you nothing's going to go wrong today. It's just a short trip, so hang on okay?"
Sasha shot an encouraging smile to her following your words.
She pursed her lips, giving a tight nod. Her hands gripped the reins tighter.
"I know..it's just..it feels so wrong." She whispered. "The sky was fine when we came out, then it turned dark within moments."
You understood. It really had been a good day. Or so it had seemed when the expedition began. Bright blue sky without a single cloud. Then half an hour in, it turned dark, thick black clouds appearing out of nowhere. And wind was blowing so heavy you could barely keep your eyes open, the dust that was getting kicked up by the horses kept flying into them.
It did feel wrong.
You thought about it for a second as you watched the girl gradually shifting further, regaining the distance. Her eyes unfocused, a worried expression settled.
"Sash, think I'm gonna go ahead." You told Sasha.
Sasha immediately started shaking her head but she barely had time to got any words out before you squeezed the horse's sides, telling her to speed up. She did, hooves clashing against the ground, leaving small clouds of dust. You passed through your comrades, ignoring their side eyes.
Breaking ranks was absolutely unpermitted unless in life threatening situations. But when you're favoured by the higher ups and second to none but Levi Ackerman, you get a lot of free passes and unspoken privileges—which, needless to point out, you abused whenever you could.
You speedened up until the familiar figure caught your eye. Nudging your horse, you manurvered it towards him, catching up to him in moments
Levi glanced at you sideways with narrowed eyes, annoyance flashing through his features at your appearance.
"Tch." He clicked his tongue. "Why the hell did you leave your post? Just because it's not an actual expedition doesn't mean-"
"Yeah, yeah" You cut him off, not in the mood for a lecture. Levi's eye twitched, but he didn't say anything. He never did.
If it was anyone else but you, Levi would have taught you a lesson right there. And if it was anyone but Levi, you would for sure at the very least be demoted for speaking in such tone. But though none of you would admit it, the relationship between you and Levi were much casual than it should be between a commanding officer and a soldier.
"It's going to rain, captain." You pointed towards the sky. "I don't like this. Can't we camp out or something? We've cleared out the area two nights ago anyways, there shouldn't be titans around. It'll be safe and we can continue later."
Levi sighed. "Tell that to four-eyes. I tried. They won't listen to me. Keeps saying, 'its not much further'."
You grimaced. When it came to titans, section commander Hange lost all rationality. "It won't be a light rain either. Looks like a fucking storm is coming."
Levi nodded in agreement. "I'll see what I can do." He huffed "You don't have to worry about it. "
"I'll be hella pissed if I get drenched, I swear."
"No one asked. And go back to your damn post, you little pest." He finished sharply, giving you a warning glance.
You obligated, even you knew when to step back. Pulling down on the reins, you slowed your horse down, turning it around to go back to your original spot. Sasha and the new recruit were staring wide eyed.
"You really need to stop doing that. One of these days, captain Levi will just go batshit on you." Sasha shook her head, a grin on her face.
"We'll see." You snorted.
"Seriously, I don't even know why he lets you screw around like this, if it was any of us-"
"Did you ask him about the rain?" The rookies high pitched voice cut Sasha off. She was staring at you, face contorted in anticipation.
"Yeah, kid." You responded gloomily. "Don't think they'll stop unless it actually starts raining."
She didn't say anything, just looked away, distancing herself with her horse again, knuckles taut on the reins.
"She's just scared." Sasha muttered, glancing at her.
"Weren't we all?"
"Don't remind me." She shuddered at the reminder of our first expedition—the one where more than half of us were massacred by the female titan.
You watched the sky with squinted eyes, as the clouds had covered the last rays of the sun, creating an eerie dark ambience, even making you shift warily in your position.
The kid was right, it felt wrong.
Somewhere far away, thunder rolled. Once. Twice. The rumbling sound was almost deafening.
That's when the first drop of rain hit your face. It rolled down your cheek and fell on the ground.
And then the sky crashed down upon the earth.
A curse escaped your lips, completely unprepared for the sudden phenomenon. Surprised yelps from others joined yours. Hastily, you wrapped your cloak around yourself tightly to regain some warmth that you lost.
Oh dear. This was definitely bad .
Within seconds, the world was white. You couldn't see anything. Only faint outlines and blurred green. Somewhere far front, you heard Hange groan and Moblit screaming out to move out to far right to the forest to take shelter underneath the trees.
Despite being half blind, you followed the orders, pulling the reins. You felt the thuds of Sasha's and the new recruits horses match yours.
Then Sasha gasped.
She hissed out your name, her voice terrified.
"Titans." She whispered.
Your heart fell. No.
"What?" You yelled out, praying to God you heard wrong.
"I can hear titans!" Sasha said louder this time, the panic in her tone clear. "From everywhere!"
Damn Sasha and her extraordinary hearing abilities.
"Shit. Shit shit shit!" You cursed out. Why? How? The area was supposed to be clear. Why were they swarming on you then?!
"We have to let the others know!"
"How!? The rain is too thick and loud for the signal guns to be seen or heard! Hell, we probably won't even hear titans come up until they're breathing down our damn necks!" You were losing your cool, the panic settling in.
Scouts did not go out in expeditions when it rained. It was a rule. Never.
But here the fuck you were.
You heard the rookie whimper right beside your ear. Your head turned to see her almost over your shoulders, eyes wide with terror as she heard the conversation, eyes switching from Sasha to you.
"It'll be fine." You said to her, trying to calm down for her sake. But you knew as well, the chances of it being fine was next to fucking zero because Sasha's ears were too fucking accurate. "It'll be fine, just stick close to me-"
The terrified yelps of several people up front cut you off and your blood froze.
A huge, enormous figure standing before you, staring down with wide, hungry eyes. A creepy smile on its face.
You stilled, right there. Your breathing stopped.
No no no.
Not here.
Your horse reacted before you processed it, throwing itself to the side just as the titans feet slammed against the ground just where you've been, sending tremors down the earth. It's grubby hand swooshed over your head.
The mount flailed wildly as you tried to keep balance. You were about to whip the reins and get the hell out of there when another cry pierced through your bones.
From much, much close.
The rookie.
You whipped your head to see the girl running the exact fucking opposite way, the titan following right behind with big, heavy thuds.
You didn't even care where Sasha might be.
She was experienced, she'd be fine.
The kid won't be fine.
In a split second decision, you turned your mount around, grabbing it's neck as it charged in full speed following the titan, speedily crossing it.
You were going in the forest.
Not the wisest decision you've made because you still couldn't see anything except for the outline of the titan behind you, you could crash into a tree any second.
But fuck.
"Hey, you moron! Come back here!" You yelled out to her in frustration and desperation. She didn't even turn around, only speedened up. "That's the wrong fucking way! Turn around!"
You moved, fast as the wind, raindrops stabbing your face like tiny little frost needles, making you wince.
You entered the forest, deeper, deeper.
This was bad.
And then it got worse.
It was the red that caught your eyes. The type of red you could recognize anywhere.
Blood was splattered all across the ground, the rainwater washing it away.
Oh no no no.
The crunch of human bones jolted you awake as you looked up to see the titan that had been the cause of it. You stared. Stared. Stared as it stared back at you.
You looked down, right there on the foot of it, rolling around was the detached head of the girl.
You gazed back up.
And then you saw two more. Slowly, steadily coming out of the forest, disturbingly enlarged organs swinging with every steps.
3 titans in front. 1 in the back.
What have you done.
You had barely turned your gear switch on when the first titan struck, stomping down your horse. Just in time, with the gap of a second from being smashed, you pressed on the triggers, the wires shooting forward, planting to whatever surface they had found and pulling you with it.
It was reckless. Stupid. Using ODM gear when you couldn't see shit. But you were in a forest so hopefully it'll randomly latch onto trees. Or it could fucking slip because of the rain and you could die. But you took your chance, not that you had a choice.
One of the advantages titans had was that they could see clearly in the rain. Their enormous pupils followed your movements, hands reaching out to grab you. You twisted just in time, releasing the wires and shooting them again, using them to swing yourself further and faster.
And you did that. Every time the wires shot out, your heart caught in your throat thinking it'd miss and find nothing to latch onto but fate must've had your back because it didn't.
Until it did.
Perhaps it was the stupid rush of confidence you gained from moving so perfectly, that you had speedened up. That was the downfall. Though one had latched, the other anchor slipped, missing the branch and instead going over it. The moment you realized it, you knew it was over.
The momentum from before and the pull of the wires, you slammed against the trees, hitting your head so hard, you felt your skull crack, the pain ripping through your brain. The anchor that had latched onto the tree didn't bury itself properly and you clashed right against it. The metal hook went straight through your shoulders. And nothing could ever have prepared you for the agony that panged through.
You dropped, back clashing against the ground. You lied there, sprawled and bleeding out, the rain pooling in your eyes, blurrying your already hazy vision from hitting your head so hard. But you watched the titans surround you, an almost giddy look crossing their stupid expressions.
Those little fuckers.
And so you watched, helplessly, as one of them reached out, pulling you up by your legs, your head dangling upside down.
And all you saw was big wide eyes and gaped jaws.
One of the other reached out, wrapping it's fat fingers around your midsections, pulling you towards itself. The one holding you groaned, pulling you back, as if it didn't really want to share. Your abdominal muscles and organs strech to the point you thought you'd split in half.
What a shit way to die, you thought.
You survived Shiganshina, you survived Trost, you survived that damn 57th expedition.
And you were going to die here.
Alone.
While four fucking ugly as hell titans fought about who got to eat you.
'Second to none but Levi Ackerman', your ass.
But your friends, you thought. Eren had yet so much to go, that you won't be there to see. Before you left, when you've said goodbye to Connie and Jean, you smacked both of them in the head, that wasn't a good farewell, was it? Sasha would go hungry during meals because you won't be there to share half your food.
You wondered if captain would be the slightest bit of sad.
Had he noticed you missing by now? Would he miss the little banters and bickerings you had every day with him? Would he be disappointed that you were going out in such a lame way?
You closed your eyes, dangling upside down was not helping your case. Your head was starting to get empty as you felt the blood pool down in your head.
That's good. At least you won't be conscious while you die.
It won't hurt.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four. Five. Six. Seven....one,five, four? Ticktocktickticktocktick-
Then you fell.
It wasn't a gentle drop You hit the ground again, full force. And this time you felt your leg bend awkwardly, a bone snapped.
But it didn't hurt, not really. You were too numb by now.
You felt the ground shook as something heavy impacted. Four times. Followed by loud, gutteral animalistic growls of a titan.
Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.
One. Two. Three. Four.
But it was the sharp metallic sound of a sword clanging was what woke you up.
Your eyes opened and you saw steam.
Ah. Were the titans dead?
But who killed them?
Your head turned sheepishly and you found the answer.
There was Levi, staring at you with wide, wide eyes, mouth slightly parted. His swords were discarded by his side and he just stood there. Was his hands shaking?
Oh, that's funny. That's the first ever time you've seen captain react that much. He looked funny with such big eyes. Was it because of how filthy you were? You couldn't see yourself, but you knew. You must've been caked in blood and mud. Is that why captain was so shocked?
Your mind was so fuzzy, you wanted to go to sleep. Would the captain mind if you fell asleep here? In this filth?
Levi finally registered the sight. He shifted, still in a daze, and then he dropped, straddling you. Careful enough to not let any of his body weight touch you.
He looked so scared.
"Shit." He muttered. "Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Oi brat—" His hands closed around your arms, shaking you. Your brain felt as if it rattled in your head. "Fuck–can you hear me?"
His hand pressed against your face and he flinched at how cold you were. You only stared at him through half-lidded eyes.
Then, weakly, with all you had, you parted your lips, the words barely audible.
"...welcome to the party, captain. Bit late though I'm afraid." You mumbled. "You do realize shaking me doesn't actually help, don't you? Unless you want me to throw up or something."
Levi felt his heart hitch.
"You little shit–" he took a sharp breath. Then slowly, carefully, he slightly shifted you holding your hair back to inspect how bad the damage was, and it wasn't a pretty sight.
"I'm a goner, aren't I?" you muttered quietly, wincing when one of his fingers accidentally grazed against the injury. Levi immediately pulled his hand back, his hand stained red.
"Shut up." He hissed, trying to keep his growing anxiety from showing. "You're bleeding like shit. Thats way too much blood."
"I'm aware, can't help it." you groaned when your leg moved a bit too much, "Got it on your clothes too."
"I could care fuck less about it right now, you dumbfuck." Levi snapped out. The he shifted off of you, kneeling beside. He unhooked the green cloak around him with fast fingers. The green surface was smeared with dark red in places.
Carefully, he pulled you up by the shoulders, cradling you against his chest. You almost cried at the sudden feeling of warmth, and the sharp wave of pain that shot through your bent leg. Tears stinged your eyes. "Bite me. I knew you cared." You joked, an attempt to lighten the dire situation and to ignore the way your whole body ached and how you already felt the lack of oxygen in the air. Levi let out an irritated breath as he used the cloak to wrap around your head to stop the bleeding. His breathing loud and heavy beside your ear. "Can you shut up, you ungrateful brat? I'm trying to save your damn life."
Levi worked so gently, it was unfamiliar. You wondered as your head rested on his shoulder and his hands worked around you, every movement slow and careful, trying his best not to hurt you more.
Ah, so even the harsh captain can be this gentle. And despite emptiness clouding your head, you felt slightly glad. At least you got to see this side of him. This is a nice way to die.
As if he had somehow heard your thoughts, his jaw tightened. "Don't even think about dying. That's a fucking order."
If only the world worked like that.
Levi knew he wasn't doing a good job. His hands shook too much, and it was causing you unnecessary pain. He froze everytime you winced, taking a few seconds until you stilled, then continuing. He was also aware of how dirty the fabric was, with dirt and mud, but this'd have to. It's either this or watching you bleed out to death.
"Okay," he whispered quietly under his breath, more to reassure himself than you. He turned you so he could see your face. An absolutely panic stricken look passes him when he sees the tears. "Fuck, Did I hurt you too much? Does it still hurt?"
You sniffled, mouth twitching to a grin. You tried to ignore the pounding in your head. "It's not your fault. You didn't do anything."
Levi nodded, his eyes shifting to your shoulder. "How the fuck did this even happen?" He hissed sharply, seeing the metal anchor buried deep in the flesh. "Even when you get injured, it's in the stupidest ways possible." He thought about it for a second, biting the insides of his cheek. Unsure what to do. Then he sighed. "Shit. It's best to let it stay there. If I try to pull it out, might accidentally tear something. And the bleeding would be too much to handle."
"Nice." You groaned, then all of a sudden, broke into a fit of coughs, blood spilling out with each jolt. Levi's eyes widened at the sight, pupils blown out.
"The titans." You coughed, trying to explain. "Must've fucked up my insides. The grip was too tight."
Levi frustratedly ran a hand through his hair, uncaring of the grime and filth. His face screwed up and eyebrows knitted together, the fear in his eyes wide and clear. Internal bleeding was much, much concerning.
"Captain," the word was a groan. Your eyes were so heavy, begging to go to rest. Would that be so bad? "...I don't think I can make this one out. I'm dying, aren't I?"
"No you're not. But if you don't stop talking, I might actually make you a goner." Levi deadpanned while going over your leg. You snorted, the slight action paining you. But it was nice. With him fussing over.
"Come on, we gotta get you back-hey–" he slapped your cheek, seeing your eyes flutter. Gentle but sharp. "Don't pass out, kid. Better keep those damn eyes open. Stay awake. Stay the fuck awake, you hear me?"
His fingers fiddled with your uniform straps, removing the gas tanks and the overall gears. He had to cut down the wire that stuck with hook that was latched to your shoulder since he couldn't take it out. The removal of the extra weight made you feel slightly better.
"Alright," Cautiously, he hooked one arm over your shoulder, the other under your knees. "Brace yourself, this is going to hurt as fuck." Then, though carefully, with one sweep pull, he picked you up. And despite his warning, and the mental preparation, he was right. It hurt like shit. A soft cry escaped your lips. "I'm sorry, just–just hang on." He mumbled, cradling you close to him, adjusting your head so that it rested against his shoulder. He knew it wasn't the most ideal position as it'd be hard for him to move with ODM while holding you like this, not to mention your leg would not probably be in the best state either. But he couldn't think of a better position, your head needed support, he couldn't let any weight on your abdominal muscles either.
Then without moving his arms from beneath you, he reached for the ODM triggers with his hands and pressed his fingers down.
The takeoff was the final push. The jolt as he kicked off the ground and the pain that followed right after was the limit. You knew you were going to die.
"You pretend like you don't give two shits, but you're going to miss me once I'm gone aren't you?" The words escaped you without thinking. You weren't really thinking at all, it's just this urge that took over. But if you're going to die, you wanted to keep talking. You wanted to hear his voice. You wanted him to scowl and snap at you to shut up. So until you can't, you wanted to keep talking. One last bicker. Never in your life had you thought he'd be the one to hear your last words or that his ones would be the last you'd hear. And you didn't mind. At all.
"Fuck off." He responded coldly.
"I'm serious."
"You're serious? Now that's a shocker."
There he went, from one tree to another. You grinned, looking up at his contorted face. He was trying so hard not to panic, his eyes flicking from you to the route.
"Captain."
"Can't you just keep your mouth shut for once in your fucking life?"
"Said life's on the verge of death, so I'd rather not."
"Stop saying shit like that. You're not dying on me."
You sighed. He was wrong. You were indeed dying on him. Despite the warmth of his body pressed against you, you could feel your own temperature lowering dangerously. The cloak he had used as a makeshift bandage to stop the bleeding weren't helping much better either as you felt blood trickle over your eyes. You felt weak, dizzy, disassociated. You could barely remember where you are and where you're going.
"Captain. Thank you for choosing me."
"What?" Levi's eyes shifted towards you, surprised and confused. It was such a strange sight. The bangs he so carefully kept were now all messy and disheveled, some strands sticking to his face with sweat. You returned his silvery gaze.
"Thank you for choosing me. Letting me be a part of your squad. Saving my ass everytime I fucked up. For everything, really. You weren't the nicest, but you have a good heart. And I'm not the best at expressing gratitude but I had to let you know."
"Shut up." Levi hissed through gritted teeth, his voice cracked ever so slightly. The rain had lessened into a drizzle.
"Once I'm gone, there won't be anyone to nag you to go to sleep. Remember to take breaks, won't you?"
Levi wouldn't look at you. He couldn't look at you. But his hold tightened. "Shut the fuck up. Keep talking and I'll drop you." Oh, but you had to keep talking. Your breaths were numbered you could tell. And you wanted to spend them on talking.
"And hydrate. Don't drink too much tea. Stop being mean to Hange and Eren. Let Sasha eat, don't ban her from meals when she fucks up.." the words slurred, your voice becoming quieter with every words and each were punctuated with heavy and heavier gasps. Your eyes closed. The light was too bright for you. And blood was pooling inside your mouth, choking you. "..they care for you. I hope you know that. So be nice every once a while. It won't kill you I swear."
Levi sucked in a breath. "Oi, brat." His voice was so far, so far away. You wanted to reach out and hold on to it, somehow wrap yourself around it. So unlike the usual stoic and dry comments he'd send through your way.. "...I take it back. Don't shut up. Keep talking. Keep blabbering whatever the fuck- Don't die on me, not like this–shit–not like this—" Guess he did care after all. "—stay with me, come on, stay with me.–"
You were fading. Drowning. Floating. But you heard him. His words a broken record, repeating over and over in your brain—staywithmestaywithmestaywithme…
You apologized silently. You would if you could. But the air was choking you and you couldn't stay any longer. You'd stay with his mean ass for life if you had the choice, didn't he know? Didn't he know you dedicated your heart for him?
Oh. Time's out.
Goodbye.
Captain.
(might write a part 2 lol)
#attack on Titan x reader#aot x reader#snk x reader#shingeki no kyoujin x reader#levi angst#aot angst#levi Ackerman x reader#levi x reader#snk angst#levi ackerman angst
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ragatha/agatha and pomni/penny human hcs!
(r)agatha:
is an english teacher!
yes she still loves horses. she used to ride them, & she loves old western movies.
owns cowboy hat and boots.
analytical and loves long & winding conversations.
has a very happy cat named sandwich.
patches her own clothes, doesn't have kids but if she did she would embroider their names into their belongings.
she still plays cello, she loves music in general, probably sings like an angel.
can't do any mathematics.
can drive, but like a lunatic. somehow has never had an accident though, so it's fine.
probably has a cute little baby blue/yellow car now, but definitely had a beat up offroader truck at some point that got put to good use. or maybe she still does, i'm not the boss.
total lesbian, a bit of a heartbreaker but not intentionally (women just keep falling for her)
goes to town/neighbourhood/community meetings. likely is/was in a knitting circle
absurd number of quilts in her home
pomni/penny:
is an accountant as we know, and cannot cook for shit as we know.
no pets she can barely take herself for walks. is more similar to a cat, but had a dog growing up. would love a collie or a dalmatian probably.
would name the dog something stupid like Thermometer Johnson.
she can drive, but nervously.
really quick thinker, like impressively, unless she's under HUGE amounts of stress. is literally always thinking at 100mph.
no sense of interior decor or personal style. all practical, kind of butch. really does kill a suit.
very much lesbian but not fully to terms with it. probably had short-lived relationships with men in which she was 'content' but didn't really care for it. seeing agatha as agatha for the first time was probably a crazy punch to her little gay heart. not to mention the cowboy gear.
autistic
watches 90s anime to wind down
listens to every single genre of music. passes a lot of time with headphones in, slowly making her way thru the entire world's discography
owns no band merch or anything though she just listens
can't sleep without a fan on, thunderstorm 12hr audio, blackout curtains, weighted blanket, water nearby
does not sleep a lot
both of them (going to call them pomni and ragatha for convenience):
didn't immediately recognise one another. i havent got an exact idea of how they reunited after getting out, but there were tears.
bonded in a very rare and unique way - they got to revel in the newfound joys of real life again. they got to eat delicious food, go on long, unobstructed walks in the real sun, be warmed by it, chew on ice cubes and shiver at the pain, listen to each other's heartbeats, listen to real music, read real books, smell soaps and flowers and sauces. they went to the supermarket together and read all the labels, and bought one of each type of fruit to try between them, and smelled all the candles, and touched all the blankets. spent a lot of time holding hands and kissing and i'm sorry to say, probably having sex, because holy shit, i'm real, you're real, we're real
now live together in ragatha's apartment, after pomni moved out of her small and confusingly-furnished flat.
both of them feel inadequate from time to time. this is resolved by a stern-but-loving talking-to.
sandwich likes pomni very much. pomni doesn't really get cats, but loves sandwich a great deal, and enjoys letting her sleep on her lap.
ragatha is very pleased to see her girls getting along.
ragatha cooks, pomni chops the veg. she often doesn't fuck it up
pomni cleans a lot as a 'thank you for letting me live here, i love you'. she's very much acts of service, ragatha is words & physical touch <3
they watch a lot of movies together. depending on how long they've been stuck, they might have culture to catch up on
ragatha wants to have a house with a garden one day. pomni starts germinating seeds from their fruit & veg like a weird science experiment. ragatha is delighted when she is presented with a baby tomato plant.
clothes are shared. ragatha's are bigger, but most of pomni's are ill-fitting anyway so it can go both ways. ragatha likes to dress pomni up in different outfits and have her do a little fashion show. pomni pretends not to savour the confidence boost.
pomni starts sleeping more
#ok im tired so thats it now. BYE#tadc#pomni#ragatha#the amazing digital circus#buttonblossom#tadc pomni#tadc ragatha#jesterdoll#ragapom#tadc headcanon#ragatha x pomni#pomni x ragatha#tadc hc#tadc humanization#human versions
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MOTHER HEN: PART SEVEN
parings: hawks x mother!reader
wordcount: 3.2k
warnings: none
notes: daddy’s…home? genuinely so excited to write the next chapter cause if you notice the timeline, something big is coming😈😈
summary: you, the mother of Fumikage Tokoyami, are just a simple nurse! Who caught the eye of a certain pro.
You haven’t gotten a text from hawks in the past four days, which puts you in a sour mood.
technically it’s a little bit of your fault for kissing his forehead- but if the little shit would have just let you explain…
what’s even worse is that your unable to watch the sports festival- fucking hospital job.
And when you finally get home from that hellhole, Fumikage will be sassy cause you weren’t able to watch him.
He wouldn’t be angry just..slightly disappointed?
Then when you cuddled up in your nest yesterday you see that damned hawks plush you spent 30 dollars on…
So here you are at this amazing place of work! against your will of course.
Currently you’re at the water station- until you were rudely pulled away due to a pro hero getting hurt…as usual.
You open the door to see a younger, dark skinned woman with white hair and the cutest bunny ears on her head.
She looks at you and starts waving happily…your heart would feel warm if it weren’t for the blood on her face.
“Names Mirko!” Oh, you know her! Your sister used to be obsessed with her…well for a short period of time but still obsessed no the less.
“Mirko, how you feeling today?”
She sends you a thumbs up, “terrible!”
You chuckle softly and walk over towards her, accompanying another one of the doctors.
“What’s her condition?”
The doctor sighs, “nothing too serious, we ought to check her for a concussion though..and she’ll have to at least spend one night here.”
“With those injuries it should be longer no?”
The doctor shakes his head, “can’t keep Mirko tied down for too long.” Then proceeds to just…walk out.
But Mirko doesn’t let it stay too quiet.
“So, your name is?”
You smile softly, “ Y/N Tokoyami.”
Mirko looks like she’s pondering for a moment..looks as if she knows you from somewhere.
“I swear I’ve heard that name before..” she says quietly.
You smile again, “you probably have, so is there anything you need?”
Mirko puts her attention back onto you, “nah, I’ll be alright.”
“Really, Why’d the doctor call me in then?”
“Because I complained my ass hurt, I’ve been laying in bed all day.”
You chuckle, “that all?”
She nods her head quickly.
“Well, let’s hope you don’t get a bed sore kay?” You shoot a thumbs up towards her, same she did to you earlier.
Then you walk out, wondering why she even needed you…
But Mirko knew why, hawks told her you were nurse and she wanted to she what all the fuss was about.
Truthfully, he’d been talking about you every time she saw him while on patrol.
She supposes his ramblings are correct, you’re cute.
Then again Mirko has never really pinned hawks as the mamas boy type, and you echo the motherly type.
But you’re sweet, maybe that’s why he’s so attracted to you?
So, Mirko pulls out her phone to bother hawks about his little high school boy crush.
she took it the the group chat though, little asshole.
BEST PROS.
carrot foot
Found ur gf hawks
caw caw bitch
what
caw caw bitch
where
jorts
who?
carrot foot
Hospital
INCOMING FACETIME CALL
Mirko sighs and answers it.
“Where is she, she look cute?” Hawks says frantically.
Mirko shakes her head, “again hawks, get a grip.”
Mirko can hear the wind howling into the phone, of course hawks is flying while on the phone.
“Answer me.” Hawks says sternly.
Mirko immediately starts rambling about the very small amount of information she has on you, “Damn you got a mommy kink or something, cause that woman is a MILF. I mean M.I.L.F.”
“What- what the hell does…no?” Mirko can pick on hawks confusion through the phone.
“Hawks, man, that woman echos mother. Here she is mothering throughout the halls of a hospital!”
“Mirko, what’s your point here.”
“I mean she’s hot dude, get your head in the game…or in her i don’t-“
Mirko can then her hawks yelling loudly out of shock, “GROSS MIRKO, DONT MAKE JOKES LIKE-“
If he yelled any louder you could probably hear him in the halls.
Mirko laughs loudly, “Don’t get your panties in a twist, I’m joking.”
Then there’s an uncomfortable silence on the phone, a little too long for comfort.
but then of course hawks breaks it- as him usually does.
“I mean, I wouldn’t mind…”
Mirko starts laughing again, “aha! Damn dirty bird- go get your wings ruffled elsewhere man!”
Hawks responds quickly, ignoring Mirko comment.
“I gotta go- I see a best jeanist and I’d like to go pull his ear.”
Mirko huffs, “fine, but he isn’t your wingman-I am.”
Hawks laughs softly and hangs up, leaving Mirko in silence.
Until you walk in.
“Oh, there’s my favorite nurse!” She beams.
“Do you mind if I watch the sports festival in here? My kids in it..”
Mirko nods her head, “I don’t mind- need to look for recruits anyways.”
So, there you and Mirko sit watching the sports festival together.
Many times throughout it you had to put a hand over your mouth to keep yourself from screaming and alerting the others your not technically working at the moment.
but during every break in the sports festival, you rushed and did your actual duties as quickly as you could.
Then when you came back, and the 1V1 battles have already started.
And of course your gorgeous boy conquers and destroys the competition.
One after another, what was most surprising to you was seeing todorokis and midoriyas fight, aggressive and raw.
made you vividly remember that was the boy who tripped on his own ice..
You were a little scared that’d he have to face your Fumikage.
Instead it was Katsuki Bakugo who faced him, and after that fight he’ll be the only kid who doesn’t get your end-of-semester cookies.
I mean cmon! Grabbing your son by the beak?! Unbelievable…angers you to your core because who does he think he is?!
But it’s fine.
Fumikage would’ve won if it were anyone else.
But Fumikage still got third, and you can shove it in all your friend’s faces that your son is awesome and that they could never.
Because Fumikage is one of a kind.
You look over to Mirko after jumping for joy for your son’s new shiny medal.
“He’s a good fighter, y’know I know someone all birdy like that.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yea, hawks.” She says bluntly.
You can feel the color drain from your face, hawks low key, high key broke your heart after your last interaction.
“Oh… well I’m sure Fumikage will consider an invitation from him.- if he wanted to work with him.” You say while tapping your fingers together.
Mirko pulls out her phone, typing something, you don’t know exactly what but…it’s whatever.
carrot foot
yea your cooked bud
caw caw bitch
what
Mirko seats down her phone next to the table, where you can hear it buzzing loudly…
“Uhm are you gonna check that?” You say nervously.
“Nah, he’s fine.” She says as she finally relaxes into the bed she had been complaining about all day apparently.
“Ah…okay?” You then hop out of the seat, making your way back to your work.
You should get him an apple pie to celebrate, or maybe just straight apples cause Fumikage will go crazy either way.
Hawks briefly crossed your mind again, what was his favorite again? Wasn’t apples you know what…it was probably something dumb- just like him…
dumb, dumb, dumb man.
enough of him, you have work to do…
right after you call Fumikage!
It rings, but he doesn’t answer? Which is weird because Fumikage always answers his phone unless it’s dead.
Yes that’s probably why, he’ll call you right back when it charges.
But Fumikages phone was in-fact not dead, he was just…distracted?
Fumikages eyes squint slightly, “What could you possibly want.”
It’s hawks he’s being so standoffish with, but hawks just sends him a soft smile.
“It’s the sports festival, of course I’d be here.”
“You decide to stalk me instead of my mother?”
Hawks goes quiet, his carefree smile faltering.
“Not exactly..we got in a small spat.”
“If you’re trying to get me to talk to her for you, it’s not gonna work.” Fumikage starts to walk away before hawks grabs his shoulder.
Then dark shadow comes out.
Hawks steps off slightly, “that’s kinda freaky…”
“Kinda like your face.”
Dark shadow looks over to Fumikage, “that wasn’t even a good comeback.”
“Shut up dark shadow.”
Dark shadow scoffs and folds his cute little shadow arms with what looks to be a pout on his face.
Hawks face completely loses the carefree smile, “I’m serious when I say I’m not here for you…well not technically.”
“What do you mean by that.”
“Yea, what do you-“
“Dark shadow…”
Hawks lets out a small breath, “I was interested in you being my sidekick due to the skills you showed off on the fie-“
“Not interested” Fumikage says curtly.
Dark shadow whips his head over to look at Fumikage with surprise, whispering something in his ear.
“He’s number three- you can’t just reject an offer from him!”
“I can, and I just did.”
Then it’s silent, Fumikage doesn’t mind though.
Hawks sighs softly, putting back on the smile Fumikage hates so much.
“Well if you ever rethink it, my agency will always be open.”
“I hope retribution comes for you in the darkness of your home.”
Hawks stays quiet but then his face twists into confusion, “what does that even mean..?”
Fumikage huffs and if he had hair he would most likely flip it whilst walking away.
Fumikage leaves hawks standing outside, utterly confused in what Fumikage was even talking about.
Maybe that’s what you meant when you said Fumikage was unique…
speaking of you, you were still at that darn hospital.
Fumikage was aware of that, you always worked a lot but the times that you weren’t working you tried your best to spend them with him.
Until Mr. Pro-Hero decided to come into your life..
The first time Fumikage really noticed your relationship with hawks was when you had the talk on the balcony.
He knew he wasn’t going crazy when he thought someone was under a blanket, a blanket you don’t even use may he add.
Then the next day when he went up to your balcony, the blanket was in-fact no where to found.
Then he caught him in your kicthen, Fumikage debated on even eating the cookies because maybe hawks terrible aura rubbed off on them.
They were delicious but that’s not the point!
Then hawks wanders into Fumikages home, which was locked, uninvited looking for you.
Only time Fumikage could tolerate hawks was when he had to save you from the bar.
But then his tolerance shot down when he walked in on the two of you coddling each other.
Then he heard the “little spat” you and hawks had which is why he rushed into your room so fast.
Honestly, who does that damn fowl think he is?!
Fumikage explains all of this to poor dark shadow, who truly just wanted to watch a movie with him.
“Sounds rough.” Dark shadow says quietly.
Fumikage huffs, “It’s worse than rough dark shadow, it’s appalling.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t be so…extreme with hawks- Momma seems to like him.”
“Correction, liked, my mother will never participate in any romances with that man again.”
Fumikage ends the conversation there, but dark shadow would like to expand on the topic.
“It was nice of hawks to offer you that side kick position.”
“well being nice doesn’t cut it.”
Finally, the conversation about hawks is finished, Fumikage only ranted for 4 hours this time!
And he’d finished 3 movies in that time as well…maybe the hospital will let you off early.
So Fumikage and dark shadow fight the urge to rest, which they both utterly fail and fall asleep on the couch.
You come in around 5:30 so they never stood a chance, not after the day Fumikage had.
You walk into the door, spotting only Fumikage.
You stumble over towards him, sitting on the floor and brushing your hand through his feathers.
Fumikage is knocked out, so he won’t wake up if you pick him up.
You use all your remaining strength to pick Fumikage up, making your way towards your bedroom.
It’s been a minute since Fumikage got cuddles from his mama.
And also you seriously doubt you could carry Fumikage back to his room, then walk back to yours without passing out onto the floor.
You place Fumikage under the warm covers, then yourself.
You then wrap your hands around Fumikage as tightly as you possible could, as if someone would take him away if you didn’t.
Then you rest, same as Fumikage.
Same as hawks.
And hawks truly needs to thank you for whatever you did to make him stop having those nightmares.
barely dreams now, and if he does it’s always weird shit.
usually has you in it too.
nevermind, you probably cursed him and overrode whatever put that nightmare spell on him.
a curse that just makes him dream about you.
Now he really wishes he talked Mirko into getting a picture of you, he misses you bad.
Maybe a text wouldn’t hurt? No, too risky- you’re probably still mad at him.
Maybe he could worm his way back into your life with that weighted blanket, if his plan worked he could probably steal it back anyways.
It still smells like you, which is weird because he’s had it for awhile.
That’s probably his favorite part of the day now, getting home, taking a shower, cuddling into his mostly bare bed and just sniffing that shit like it’s coke.
Kinda like how some people spray lavender onto their beds to get sleepy, he just smells the hell out of that blanket.
He wishes he was able to snatch another item from your house that smelled like you.
Fumikage doesn’t really smell like you, he noticed.
He smells kinda like wood? And also a little fruity too.
You wouldn’t really guess fruits and flowers from looking at him but maybe your scent rubbed off on him too.
Honestly, hawks kinda feels like Edward when Bella first walked into that classroom though- hawks wouldn’t be covering his mouth to avoid the smell, he would be INHALING that smell.
He would never admit that the night that he comforted you out on that balcony he didn’t even go home and change, he kept that uniform on.
The coat didn’t truly smell like you, but the under shirt did.
Maybe he’s going a little crazy, sure he’s real kept together most the time but- the things you do to that poor man.
And Mirko- peacefully sleeping in the hospital, she may be hawks wingman but she needs her rest too!
And when you wake, you’ll have to go right back to the hospital.
doesn’t men’s you can’t talk to your son before you leave though.
“Mama.” Fumikage says sleepily, awoken from you moving all around the room.
You perk up now your son’s awake, “Fumikage?”
Fumikages eyes a still closed, fighting to go back to sleep.
“Did you see me, in the sports festival?”
You run your hands through Fumikages feathers, “Course’ I did.”
Fumikage smiles softly, “guess who talked to me after..?”
“All might? I saw it on-“
“No it was hawks, invited me for an internship.”
You jaw slacks slightly, “did you accept?”
“No, not after what he’s done.” Fumikage says with a little rasp in his own voice.
“You should’ve.”
“What?”
You sigh, “hawks is number three- doesn’t matter what he did to me Fumikage.
Fumikage stays silent, suddenly now regretting telling you.
“But…”
You kiss his temple, “thank you for thinking about how I’d feel though. Don’t let my emotions or relationships get in the way of your future.”
Fumikage nods, understanding your point of view.
“Are you leaving for work?”
“Yep, it’s not a long shift though.”
You open your bedroom door, “I’ll see you later, Fumi.”
Then walking out of your own house, making your way to the hospital.
Once you walk in, your infact greeted with Mirko!
and hawks.
“Ah, my favorite nurse!” Mirko cheers excitedly.
“Mirko! Shouldn’t you still be on bed rest?”
Mirko chuckles, “glad you’re worried about me toots.”
You gasp a small bit at the nickname, “Oh!”
Mirko places her hand onto her hip, “Hey, didn’t I see you hear like 7 hours ago, why you already back?”
“Duty calls?”
Hawks chuckles at that, wasn’t even funny.
Mirko throws an arm around hawks, “this was the birdy boy I was talking about!”
“We’ve met.”
suddenly there was an awkward silence.
Hawks wanted to throw himself out a window, you wouldn’t even look at him.
Mirko taps her foot nervously.
“Hawks…” you say his name softly.
His head perks up form Mirko hold, “yeah?”
“Sorry that Fumikage rejected you…I know how he is.”
Hawks can feel his heart beating in his ears, “it’s all good- doors always open.”
You nod softly, looking away.
The three of you just stand there in silence, Mirko foot tapping repeats.
Then she breaks, “Mrs Tokoyami, sorry for holding you up-You got a job to do!”
You jump in surprise, “ah- your right, it was nice talking to you both!”
You quickly walk away to clock in, Mirko and hawks make there way outside.
She scoffs, “had the perfect opportunity.”
Hawks rolls his eyes, “I wasn’t gonna apologize to her in a hospital.
“I’m going to put you in the hospital/ what the hell even was that back there?!” Mirko exclaims.
Hawks pushes her arm away, “I was nervous.”
“Doors always open!” Mirko mocks him.
“Oh quiet down.”
“I’m your wingwoman- giving you a perfect chance and you fuck it all up.”
“It wasn’t that bad-“
Mirko smacks the back of his head, “Hawks, shut your trap.”
Hawks doesn’t reply, walking next to Mirko throughout the less populated areas of town.
Mirko snaps her fingers, “You know what, I can fix this.”
“You can?”
“Of course I can, I’m Mirko.”
Hawks groans softly, already annoyed by the days events.
Mirko starts her plan, “clearly she cares a good bit about her son-but there feeling are mostly separated for different things.”
Hawks nods along.
“So instead of getting all cushy with her son again, you need to fix it with her- clearly your not gonna getting through with her son based on what you told me earlier.-“
Hawks interrupts, “her son is always home though.”
“Don’t interrupt me, he goes to U.A. I bet they have some trip for passing the exam.”
“How are we supposed to find that out?”
Mirko groans, “let me talk, I’m always going to that hospital for some reason- I’ll find something out…she likes me unlike you.”
Hawks looks away with a pout, “Don’t say that…”
“I’ll say whatever I want, I’m your wingwoman.”
Hawks and Mirko continue their walk up until they get to his agency, since Mirko doesn’t have one.
Though Mirko continues walking, “See ya later, Hawkey.”
“Where are you going?”
“To my house?- don’t fuck up anything else while I’m gone.”
Hawks huffs lightly, walking into his own office.
He has so much paper work to do, then the commission will be badgering him later for “doing it wrong” according to them.
He can’t wait to just be home.
Be home next to you.
or…your blanket at the very least?
…he really needs to fix this.
TAG LIST: comment to be tagged!
@lost-in-horrorland @boopjuice @validveenus @qardasngan @arminsarlerts @star-the-rabid-dog @bunni-teeth81 @lightsgore @portgasdbruh @camejlo-35 @marsbars09 @tharae514 @yoongiwantsme @kimahrii @pink-jello-fish @l1vvvvv @0-seonghwa-0
if I still somehow didn’t include you in the tag list, just go ahead to ask box! :D
(seonghwa, I’m so sorry if it didn’t tag you because I genuinely couldn’t find your blog for the life of me ): )
#anime#fanfics#hawks x reader#takami keigo#bnha hawks#keigo x you#mha#mha takami keigo#spotify#hawks x y/n#takami keigo x reader#keigo x y/n#bnha keigo#keigo takami x reader#keigo takami#keigo x reader#mha hawks#mha fumikage#mha x reader#mha fanfiction#bhna x reader#bnha#mha mirko#mother hen
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mess of you, mess of me
another roommates au. inspired by this instagram vid. ficlet.
Some days, Henry thinks, there’s no worse fate than having fallen hopelessly, madly, one-sidedly in love with his own best friend. To say nothing of also being his flatmate and thus privy to every last detail of his busy dating life, yes Henry is well-aware that none of this is exactly ideal.
But then there are days when he thinks it’s not so bad, really. Today, for example, marks yet another Friday in which Alex has opted not to go out, for reasons that are unclear to Henry but that he will choose not to question for now.
For now, they’ve got a movie on, a pizza box and a beagle snoozing contentedly between them. Henry’s face feels sore from laughing, and Alex has had to rewind several times because he keeps getting distracted talking to Henry.
It is, in short, a perfect night, Henry thinks while Alex gabs and gabs away. He’s talking with his hands, wide, animated movements that nearly knock their drinks onto the rug more than once. There’s a crumb clinging to his lower lip, and Henry notes with uncommon fondness that there’s pizza sauce on his face too, somehow. Henry should probably tell him. His mouth’s still full of cheesy bread, so he gestures at Alex and then points at his own face to let him know there’s something there.
Alex is still talking, but he glances at Henry and doesn’t even hesitate as he leans forward. He lays a soft smack of a kiss right onto Henry’s cheek, just as he must think Henry's instructed. He hardly pauses for so much as a breath before he resumes talking again.
“Whoa,” Alex is saying, “your skin is so soft. What do you put on there, rice water?” He snaps his fingers. “Ooh, is it that thing I’ve been seeing on TikTok? No, wait, that was breast milk. Did you watch that one, do you know what I’m talking about? Henry?”
He seems to finally take in Henry’s expression, which Henry imagines must be frozen in something like utter shock. Did Alex—did he really just—kiss Henry’s cheek? Because Henry had pointed there, and so Alex had followed, with no questions asked?
“Sorry,” says Alex. “Was I supposed to do something else?”
Henry swallows the rest of his bread, admirably so considering he can hardly even breathe. “I—” Stop staring at Alex’s mouth. Stop. Stop it. The crumb is still there. How is the crumb still there? “You’ve a, um—” Henry gestures toward himself again, pointing at his lip this time, before he realizes what he’s just done.
Alex’s gaze tracks Henry’s hand to his mouth. He glances back up to meet Henry’s eyes, and then he leans in again, his movements now slow and deliberate. Making his intentions clear, but also making time for Henry to pull away if he wants it.
Henry wants no such thing.
He tips his chin up. His eyes flutter closed as Alex presses his lips against Henry’s this time.
If Henry couldn’t breathe before, there’s certainly no hope for him now.
The first kiss is gentle and sweet. The second feels a bit like he’s been set on fire.
Alex pulls back after a very long moment, looking as winded as Henry feels.
“Oh,” says Alex. There’s a new rasp to his voice, and he looks inordinately pleased about something as his gaze flits back to Henry’s cheek. “Babe, you have pizza sauce on you.”
“Yes,” says Henry, too dazed to manage a proper eye-roll at him. “Yes, I’ve no idea how that could’ve happened.”
“Hmm,” says Alex. There’s only a faint trace of sauce left on his own cheek now. Then, in a sly, meaningful tone, he says, “Don’t you?”
Henry slow-blinks. “Wait a minute,” he says. “Did you know, all along? That you had sauce on your—?”
Alex just looks at him. “How do you think it got there, sweetheart?”
Oh. Oh.
And at the grin Alex gives him as he leans back in, Henry finds himself marveling that he ever could have wondered at all.
#rwrb#red white and royal blue#rwrbsource#rwrb fic#firstprince#firstprince fic#rwrb fanfic#firstprince fanfic#usernuria#iuserzoe#userveronika#chrissiewatts#usersteen#carrythesky
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Distant Horizons (TWST Monster AU)
Warnings; short angst, sad lonely Shinigami wanting his Humans to come back, but knows they never will. My TWST Monster AU, Humans Are Extinct TWST AU, little bit of hope at the end but mostly angst,
~~~~~~~~
Each time another boat crossed the horizon, he knew in his heart of hearts that they would never come back. Each warm smile gifted to him by his trusting little wards etched into his memory as the last time he ever saw them so happy. Each soul returned to him, wailing and broken from the horrors they found beyond the horizon, unable to be saved in death as he could have saved them in life.
Why was it so difficult to let them go? They wanted to see the world and see the things that he could not show them, so why did it hurt so much each time they never came back?
Perhaps it was because he knew most did not last long beyond the shores of his island, far from the protection he blessed them with. Perhaps it was the idea that they met their fates screaming and begging for him to save them. Perhaps it was because he knew the soft Humans he loved would no longer be able to return to him.
Even as he stood on the shores of his home, looking out to the far off horizons, hoping beyond hope to see a familiar ship heading back home, he knew he would never get his wish.
How many years had passed since the last left? Was he to blame for the unfortunate ends so many met? If he had kept them safe on his island, would they have that same smile and trust for him or would they spit curses at him for refusing to let them see the world?
He once believed that to love something, he needed to let it go. To love these witty and fragile Humans, he needed to let them live their own lives and seek what lay beyond the horizon. Now, with nothing more than empty ruins where his soft little Humans once played, he wasn't so sure he was in the right anymore. He wasn't certain he would make the same choice to let them go if he were given the chance to choose again.
If he chose to keep them safe and contained in his own home, would they still look at him with that boundless trust and love?
"Papa Hades?"
The voice was a soft and comforting one, that of his youngest descendant Ortho- or a very good hologram of his, as the child was currently away at school- speaking through the visual and audio link. All of his lineage called him that, even the little Humans he loved called him 'Papa Hades' and he longed to hear it again from the soft voice of a fragile Human. The voices he would never hear beyond the wailing souls he had to lay to rest.
"Yes, child?"
His dark cloak of mourning- weaved from the very shadows and held together by the tears he wept for his lost lambs- billowed slightly in the winds from the sea. It had adorned his form for a long time and had been in place since the last Human in his care drew their last breath. It was as much a part of him now as the grief he carried in his heart.
"There's something I think you should know."
"And what would that be, child?"
"A Human interrupted the sorting ceremony at Night Raven College."
His world screeched to a halt and he could feel his chest begin to swell and constrict with long forgotten hope. Had he heard that right? Could it possibly be?
"... What?"
"A Human, like those ones that used to live here, somehow got to Night Raven College and lives there now! I think the Headmage said something about her staying there and being kept safe there, but Idi-nii said I should tell you first!"
A Human? After all this time, there was still one left alive? Impossible, it just couldn't be. He shouldn't get his hopes up. No doubt it was just a case of mistaken identity-
"She's really nice! I got to talk to her today in potions class and spent my morning talking to her! Idi-nii and I are going to be guards for her in a few days, since Idi-nii is a Housewarden, so we thought you would want to know!"
"Is she truly... a Human?"
"Yeah! She doesn't have any magic and is super soft and looks different from everyone. She doesn't even look like professor Divus or a Selkie without fur! The Headmage said we have to protect her because a bunch of Poachers keep showing up on school grounds looking for her, so I thought maybe you could help us guard her if she says it's okay?"
"... It would be my most esteemed honor."
#kiame-sama#yandere#x reader#yandere x reader#reader insert#tw yandere#Humans Are Extinct TWST AU#Platonic Yandere#Platonic x reader#fem reader
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Welcome Home, Pumpkin [spiced]
Characters/Pairings: Lloyd Hansen x curvy Female!Reader Word Count: 1.9k Summary: Bad ethics. Zero impulse control. This is what everyone says about him. What will it mean for you tonight?
Content/Warnings: dubious consent, soft!dark story, use of pet name "Pumpkin," explicit smut (fingering, unprotected vaginal intercourse), orgasm denial, groping, light choking, bondage
Notes: This is the second of three in a set of short stories with Lloyd served three ways - soft, soft!dark, and dark. The three feature the same setting, overlapping themes, shared thoughts, and bits of dialogue. Spiced is the soft!dark version.
sugar pumpkin | smashed pumpkin
↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest
You shut the door behind you and sigh, happy to be home after a long day - a long week, really.
You slip your shoes off, hang your bag on the hook by the door, and turn on some music before making your way down the hall to your bedroom, ready to change from your professional clothes to something comfy to lounge in the rest of the evening.
You jump when a deep, serious voice you aren’t expecting says, “Welcome home, Pumpkin.”
Your heart rockets into your throat, and you grip the doorframe. “Lloyd Hansen!”
He chuckles, rising from the spot he’d been perched on the edge of the bed.
“You’re not supposed to be here.”
He makes a show of bowing slightly, “And yet, here I am.”
You hesitate in the doorway, studying the face of the man you are now so familiar with. The steel blue eyes, the sharp jawline, the ridiculous mustache you hoped to avoid indefinitely.
He looks you up and down slowly, then sits back on the bed. “Did you think I would really be stuck in a Lithuanian prison?”
You narrow your eyes slightly and chew the inside of your cheek. His eyes study you as much as you’re studying him, and you don’t want to give anything away.
“Aw, you did. That’s cute,” he says, voice dripping in saccharine sweetness. “You should’ve known I’d be able to work myself out of there in two or three days, at most.”
You shrug. “A girl can hope.”
“Only one night, by the way, since I know you won’t ask,” he says, clearly wanting to boast.
“And that was six months ago,” you counter. “I finished the job and got the paycheck.”
“The job might be done, but we have unfinished business, Pumpkin. And it’s more fun surprising you like this when you thought you’d never see me again, isn’t it?” he simpers.
He might have been biding his time to drop in on your life again, and you can sense he’s eager, a bit impatient, but you also sense he will play this out the way he wants now that the two of you are in the same room together again.
And you hate the way you’ve been drawn to this man since the day you two first crossed paths. He is dangerous and untrustworthy. You operate in the daylight and occasionally step into the shadows, but he lives in the dark, revels in it.
“Are you going to tell me what you’re keeping from me? Why you took the contract in Kaunas in the first place?” he asks, lifting his chin just a fraction.
And oh that look does something to you - the delicious swoop in your stomach that made you weak in Eastern Europe and traitorously eager for him now.
“No,” you finally answer. Slowly, you take measured steps toward him.
“Fair enough. But I might get under your skin enough to change your tune, wind you up, have you singing all sorts of secrets for me.”
“How much time did you spend thinking up that line? The imagery, the alliteration? Impressive.”
“Not the only thing that’s impressive about me,” he responds without a second thought.
You scoff, but there is an impertinent flutter in your chest you try to tamp down. He talks - a lot - but from the brief time you were in each others’ orbit in Lithuania, you learned he could back up his bluster with brains and brawn. A dangerous player on the board.
“How much time did spend you think about my fingers deep in your pussy like they were in the closet in that day in Kaunas?”
His words hang in the air, a bold challenge that sends a shiver down your spine. Your mind immediately flashes back to the last day in Lithuania, when you had been alone, hiding in a closet and his fingers had boldly started to explore your body. You can almost feel the heat of his touch, his breath on your neck, and his hard body pressed against your back like they were that day. The memory floods your senses, the smell of wood and dust, the creaking of the floorboards as the hired goons patrolled up and down the hallway just on the other side of the door. And now, here he is, asking how much time she had spent thinking about it.
You couldn't deny to yourself the way your body responds to his words, his presence, craving that same intense pleasure again, but you can deny it to him. You have to.
“I didn’t want you then, and I don’t want you now,” you reply simply and walk over to your dresser, bypassing him on the bed. Methodically, you begin to take off your necklace, and then your watch, as if he’s not there.
“Want, need, crave…”
“Lloyd!” You gasp because those words are murmured directly in your ear, as Lloyd has moved with silent precision right behind you.
“…those are all different things,” he says. He presses his hard body up against your back, pressing his pelvis up against your ass, knocking you roughly into the drawers, pinning you. “You may not want this, but need it? Crave it?”
“No,” you whimper when he grinds against you again.
“Mmm, you made some pretty, soft sounds when we were hidden in the dark before. Wonder what sounds I can get you to make now that we’re not trying to be discreet.”
“We’re not trying to be anything,” you argue, squirming against him.
“Anything with labels, no, definitely not,” he agrees. “But you’re itching for it, aren’t you, Pumpkin?”
One of his large hands gropes your breast, and the other moves to your throat. He squeezes in both places, and you groan, a shiver ripping through you.
He chuckles, “I see we like that.”
“No,” you whimper.
“Boring!” he barks.
In one swift motion, Lloyd hefts you up, flips you around and has you on the bed pinned beneath him, body pressing into yours. He growls into your mouth as he claims you in a filthy kiss. He props himself up slightly on one arm, and his other hand reaches to tear the front of your shirt open, rending the fabric in two.
You look up at him, chest heaving, waiting with bated breath.
He unbuttons the top of your pants and drags down the zipper, all the while looking in your eyes.
“I find you wet, and I’m not stopping,” he insists, tone low, calculated.
You could press your thighs together, try to squirm away from him, but he’s too strong, and you know what he’s going to find. You could even turn your head and look away, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction.
His fingers dip into your panties, and he goes straight for the cut of you, slick and wet for him, and slips a finger inside.
“I knew it,” he whispers. His thumb presses against your clit, rubbing in slow circles.
You moan, arching into his touch, unable to resist the pleasure he’s giving you.
“Such a sensitive little thing,” he murmurs, adding another finger and thrusting them inside you.
You wriggle and writhe beneath him, unable to control your body’s response to his touch. He watches with dark satisfaction as you lose yourself in the moment.
“Lloyd,” you moan his name, and he chuckles softly.
“You sound so sweet when you say my name like that,” he coos, increasing the speed of his fingers inside you.
Your breath hitches as your orgasm approaches.
But then he pulls his thick fingers away, and a whine escapes your lips before you can stop it. Your body surges up, pelvis seeking his.
"You'll give me what I want," Lloyd purrs, his voice low and dangerous. He brings his slick fingers to his mouth and sucks them clean, maintaining eye contact with you the entire time. The sight makes you shiver involuntarily.
"Never," you breathe, but your voice lacks conviction.
Lloyd smirks, clearly not believing you. "We'll see about that."
He leans down, pressing his body against yours once more. His lips brush against your ear as he whispers, "I always get what I want. And right now, I want you."
Before you can respond, he captures your lips in another searing kiss. His hands roam your body, touching, teasing, igniting a fire within you that you've tried so hard to extinguish. You hate how easily he can affect you, how your body responds to his touch without your permission.
Lloyd's voice is a low rumble against your ear as he pins you to the bed. "You'll tell me everything I want to know."
You struggle to catch your breath, still reeling from the sudden loss of his touch. "I told you, I'm not giving you anything."
He smirks, trailing a finger down your cheek. "Oh, but you will. Your body's already betraying you. I think you’ll give me everything."
You think there’s a possibility he could end up being right, because while you didn’t think of him much after Lithuania, the truth is you did think of him. You thought of him on some of the nights alone in your bed when you had your best orgasms.
"What's the real reason you took that contract in Kaunas?" he demands.
You clench your jaw, refusing to answer. Lloyd's hand slides back to your throat, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp.
"Come on, Pumpkin. Make this easy on yourself."
Your breath catches as his fingers tighten ever so slightly around your throat. The pressure sends a thrill through you, desire boiling in your belly despite your best efforts to resist.
"I won't tell you anything," you manage to choke out, your voice strained.
Lloyd's eyes darken with a mix of frustration and arousal. "So stubborn," he murmurs. "But I did hope you’d choose the hard way."
He takes off his belt and binds it around your forearms. He yanks the clothing completely down and off your bottom half, and then he’s between your legs, cock out, and pushing his thick, blunt head against your entrance. He leans down, his breath hot against your ear. "Last chance to tell me what I want to know."
You turn your head, refusing to meet his gaze. "Go to hell," you spit out.
He chuckles darkly. "Oh, we're already there, Pumpkin."
With one powerful thrust, he buries himself inside you. You cry out, overwhelmed by the sudden fullness. Lloyd groans, his fingers digging into your hips.
"Fuck, you feel even better than I thought you would.”
You moan and push your bound forearms at his chest.
Lloyd growls, grabs your wrists, and pins them above your head in one of his giant hands.
Then he proceeds to fuck you.
Slowly.
He gives you what you won’t admit you want.
Over and over again he gives it to you, until you’re boneless, voice hoarse, throat raw, limbs aching, babbling, but somehow still fighting against giving the one piece of information he’s seemingly desperate to have.
When dawn is about to break, dazed and delirious with pleasure, you wonder which of you will break first - or if neither of you will.
↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest
all Welcome Home, Pumpkin stories
Aaaaah! So with the second one, what do you think? Was this anything like what you were expecting? Did you catch the repeated lines?
...and will you be ready for the third and darkest of the three?!
#lloyd hansen#lloyd hansen x reader#lloyd hansen x you#lloyd hansen x yn#lloyd hansen smut#female reader#curvy reader#aspen wrote something#welcome home pumpkin collection#tw: dub con#tw: dubcon#tw: dubious consent
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hello hi sorry i know your inbox is probably super full rn 😭 but can i request a one-shot of arlecchino comforting female reader while they have a panic attack, preferably without specifying the reason for it if that’s okay <3
burning flame.
Pairings: arlecchino x fem!reader
CW: sfw, female reader, panic attacks, big anxiety wow, it’s a rlly short oneshot sorry, this is off my own experience of what ik of a panic attack so I apologize if what you were hoping for is a little different i hope i covered atleast the fundamentals of it, soft arle yay, symbolism woah, wlw, fluff, not proofread.
A/N: More arlefreaky content yayayayaya this actually turned out really good I’m proud 🕯️
“There you go, breathe.”
Arlecchino’s calloused hand pressed flat against your chest as she whispered to you in hushed tone, heart thudding against your chest so quickly and violently that she could feel it against her hand. Still, she didn’t budge, pushing her hand further up as it grazed the cloth of your shirt along your skin. Your mind still spun as a storm continued to brew up within you, vision all blurry and your surroundings unclear. You begin to question where you were, only able to hear the fervent beats of your pulsing heart and shaky breaths emanating from you.
However, Arlecchino’s hand didn’t budge from your chest, keeping firm despite your intemperate heartbeat pounding so viciously, as if it was actively clashing against her palm. Shallow breaths fanned over her blackened hand, your uncontrolled hiccups and wide eyes making you jolt with each rough jerk of your body. You nearly tumbled forward as it grew hard to maintain any semblance of tranquility, both within your messy thoughts and your surroundings.
The harbinger’s broad arms circling your waist and hemming you into her grasp slowly began to subside the intense whirlwind of dread swallowing your subconscious whole, making your breaths become more drawn in and elaborate. Yet that awful unrest and distress resumed to gnaw at you continuously. Arlecchino didn’t take long to notice this, proceeding to trace your tensed up muscles from the collarbone down, outlining your silhouette slowly.
“Deep breaths, (Name).”
Flickers of light above outstretched your own shadow before you, causing you to nearly stray away from Arlecchino’s easing words, yet you did as she instructed, drawing in a deep intake of air through your nostrils and pushing it out of your lips. “There you go. Keep doing that. And focus on my hands.” She asserted, giving a gentle nudge to your shoulders and coaxing you to relax them.
You complied, lowering your hunched shoulders and fixing your mind to feel her nails gliding along your skin from the way she held you, back flush against her chest.
Repeating each deep breath, you gradually found yourself slowly fluttering your eyes open, submerged in a mellow sense of comfort flooding your senses. Your squinted gaze weakly shifted over to the flickering candle rested atop the bedside table, its flame jittering in the blink of an eye repeatedly. You leaned further into Arlecchino’s touch, seeking her warmth as her hand shifted to rest atop your head.
You were strangely similar to this alluring candle, your brightness always flickered with each gust of wind threatening to erase your flame of a soul in a seemingly endless battle. However, Arlecchino stood with you through thick and thin, at your worst and at your best. No matter how you saw it, Arlecchino was your burning flame, who kindled the wick of your candle. She was the lighter to your flame.
“Feeling any better?” Arlecchino mused, glancing down at your slumped body as she continued to hold you. You only gave a quiet and exhausted nod in response, signaling that you wanted to rest with her for a bit.
No matter what, she‘ll always be there for you.
A/N: I LOVE HOW THIS ONE TURNED OUT PERSONALLY WAWAWAW also I hope that you’re doing well anon and that you’ll get through whatever you’re going through <33
#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#genshin writing#wlw#arlecchino x#genshin arlecchino x reader#arlechinno x reader#genshin arlecchino#arlecchino genshin x reader#arlecchino x reader#arlechinno genshin#arlecchino genshin#arlecchino#arleccino genshin#alrecchino#arlecchino genshin impact#genshin impact arlecchino#genshin fluff#genshin x reader fluff#arlecchino fluff
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A Love for the Ages CL16
A collection of short stories of yours and Charles unique love story through the ages (each short flashback in time will begin with the same intro you see below)
pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader // sibling!Pierre a/n: the second installment! tysm for the support <3 i dont really write short stories but i'm enjoying this style for the series - if you want to be added to the taglist lmk
masterlist
All eyes were on you, the white wedding gown that clung perfectly to your body, your impeccably crafted hair paired with flawless glowing makeup. There was no denying you looked ethereal standing at the altar gazing into his familiar eyes: those eyes that had comforted you, cried with you, looked at you with desire, had burned with anger and softened with apologies. The eyes that have witnessed dark days and brighter ones now bore into your own; you saw a flash of anticipation in them waiting for you to mutter the two words joining you together forever. Those eyes transported you back through everything that led you here, to this altar, holding his hands, about to embark on forever.
9 and a half years old
The half was important as you neared double digits. Pierre kept calling you a baby just because he was two years older and knew how to push your buttons to make you go high-pitched enough to get your mother to strictly express, “Pierre stop winding her up. Darling, just ignore him, if you let him wind you up he’ll do it more.”
“Even Charles is ten now, aren’t you Charles? It’s good when you’re not a baby anymore, isn’t it?” Pierre mocked involving Charles in your sibling dispute.
Not only had you been dragged along to one of Pierre’s dumb race weekends but he had done nothing but annoy you the entire time, showing off in front of all of his racing friends who all thought they were cool.
You could just about see Charles’ eyes from under his long sweeping fringe, they were looking at you with a kindness Pierre’s did not hold. You turned away from the pair of them with a muffled scream for dramatic effect, missing your mothers exasperated sigh and rolling of her eyes. Pierre thought he was the coolest at the racetrack but to you he was your idiot big brother who ruined your weekends with his boring driving in circles.
You dramatically yet gracefully plonked yourself on a patch of damp grass pulling it from the earth and tossing it aside carelessly, silently imagining it being Pierre’s hair pulling from his head.
“You know, being ten doesn’t feel any different,” Charles sat down next to you, unearthing the grass with you. You weren’t mad at Charles but you were stubborn and childishly refused to speak to him because he was Pierre’s friend. “It’s a bit rubbish because Pierre keeps saying he’s nearly a teenager - which is really big, isn’t it? So we don't really ever catch up to him.”
You frowned slightly listening to Charles; Pierre had wound you up so much about not being ten you had hoped that he’d stop but now you knew he’d always be annoying just because he’s the oldest. First the worst, second the best, you made a mental note to yell that at Pierre the next time you saw him.
You still hadn't looked at Charles, continuing to focus on ripping the grass beneath you, “you should beat him in the race. Even if he’s bigger, you’re still faster than him.” You tentatively looked up to see Charles' reaction and noticed Charles smile at the compliment. “If you win I can tell him to shut up because he’s slow,” you smiled back enjoying the the idea of being able to humiliate your older brother.
“If I win then I’ll tell him to shut up with you,” you both giggled with a childlike innocence. Charles plucked a daisy from the grass twirling it in his fingers and held it out for you to take. “You should make a daisy chain while we’re racing,” he stood up dusting his hands off from the mud. “Maybe when you turn ten your mum won’t make you come here anymore ‘cause you’ll be bigger then,” he looked down at you with a promise in his eyes which gave you hope that would be true.
“I’ll make you a daisy chain crown for when you win,” you jumped up in front of him, eyes squinting and tongue poking out as you concentrated on analysing his head to determine how many daisy's you would need to make one big enough to sit atop his head of hair.
Charles won that race and proudly wore your daisy chain crown even if it was slightly smaller than you had hoped. You had told Pierre he was stupid and slow and got a warning from your mother for having done so. A few months later you turned ten and it turned out Charles’ prediction was incorrect; you were dragged along to many races for years to come but it turned out you didn’t mind them so much when Charles was there.
taglist: @rana030 @sltwins @janeh22 @likehonestlysametho
#f1 fic#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc fic#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc imagine
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