#but every time i try to figure it out like a puzzle like i did with my sexuality the first time i realise i dont really have an answer

[mercars-musings]

Market Memories

Fandom: Dragon Age - The Veilguard

Pairing- Emmrich Volkarin x TransMan!Rook {OC in particular}

TW- depicted: anxiety, anxiety attack, arguement with manipulative ex, self doubt; referenced: to childhood trauma, childhood abuse, shitty ex, manipulative ex; genre: hurt/comfort, angst, angst with happy ending, fluff.

Description- Emmrich convinces Az {OC Rook} to show him around Minrathous a little more, so he decides to take Emmrich to a small market not too far from where he grew up.

Rook's revisited these markets a few times since he moved to Dock Town and he hadn't ran into... nothing bad had happened.

So, by all means, it should have been a fun little trip! Emmrich gets to learn a little more about Rook, Rook gets to spend some quality time alone with his adoring paramour and maybe even impress him with an adorable piece of jewellery he found while he's at it!

Unfortunately, during their excursion Rook's reminded that every visit home is another visit tempting fate.

Word count- 5.4k

Read on AO3: Here!

~ ♡ ~

“I still don’t really get why you want another tour,” Rook laughs, as he guides the elder man through yet another winding back alley of Dock Town. “Neve’s already dragged us all over this place thousands of times-” Before he can continue, Rook is cut off by the feeling of a gloved hand gently being placed on his arm.

“As I’ve said before Dearest,” Emmrich starts, smiling earnestly at the Shadow Dragon. “Neve may have already shown us all there is to see of Dock Town but, I want to see what you love about this place.”

Still getting used to being the clear subject of someone’s affections, Az begins to feel a warm glow forming on his cheeks. Clearing his throat, he glances away momentarily as he tries to not feel too embarrassed.

“I… really appreciate that Em. I really do, but… well apart from missions I don’t really go out much.” The Qunari waves vaguely towards himself, particularly his horns as he lets out an awkward laugh. “I wasn’t exactly raised to be much of an outside person.”

Emmrich nods solemnly.

“My apologies, Rook.” Emmrich began, shifting his attention down to his hands in an almost embarrassed fashion. “I was hoping to learn more about you during this rare lull in our escapades, though… I’m beginning to suspect that I didn’t quite think it all the way through.” 

Rook lets out a slight, awkward laugh in response though, this is quickly replaced by a frown once he notices the genuine disappointment & guilt starting to creep their way onto the necromancer’s features.

“Well…” He pauses to think for a moment, trying to figure out the best course of action to remedy the awkward turn their conversation seemed to be taking. “I suppose there may be one place that may have fallen off of Neve’s radar.”

At this, Emmrich raises his gaze and meets Az’s eyes once again, quirking an eyebrow suspiciously.

~ ♡ ~

The pair made their way into a part of Minrathous that Emmrich indeed hadn’t seen before. It was just a little outside of their usual stomping grounds, perhaps a 10-20 minute walk if Emmrich had to estimate.

As the small distance between the two towns would suggest, there was almost no observably clear difference apart from different stalls and establishments lining the streets. Though, something about it does seem to make Rook perk up a little, he seems a little more in his element here. Albeit a bit more reserved than he is in Dock Town.

“Okay so… I know it doesn’t exactly look like much…” Rook says, turning to the professor. “But… well…” pausing, he glances down briefly as he pats an imaginary crease out of his shirt trying to plan his next words carefully. “Did I ever tell you why Neve and I hadn’t met before Varric?”

Emmrich tilts his head very slightly, trying to puzzle out where this conversation was going, but instead of saying anything he simply opts to shake his head.

“I only moved to Dock Town recently,” turning slowly Rook begins to walk towards a stall that seems to be selling some assortment of baked goods. “About… oh Gods, at this point I guess it would be about… five-ish years ago?”

Stopping at the stall Rook looks over at Emmrich. Noticing that he seems to have the man's undivided attention, he smiles & continues, “I was actually raised in a nearby town not far from it… not far from here actually.” 

“Oh?” 

“Yeah, my dad…” Rook pauses momentarily, as if thinking something to himself before seemingly shaking it out of his head. “My dad commanded legions in Ventus, and uh, found me on one of his jobs.”

“He… found you?” Emmrich asks, the surprise of the statement helping to drag his gaze away from a very delicious looking Nevarran Torte and back to Az. 

Rook lets out a chuckle as he nods, “I know, it sounds weird. I still have no idea what a little Qunari runt was doing in the middle of a battlefield! I always asked but he never…" The sentence wanders off unexpectedly, replaced with a heavy silence that fills the space between the two men. 

It was happening again, Emmrich realized: one of Rook’s quiet spells. 

Most days Rook was so cheery, always putting on a happy face for the crew & cracking jokes faster than Emmrich could even register the lull in a conversation. Though, at what seemed to be utterly random moments, Rook would suddenly become lost in thought. He’d stop himself before he finished sentences as if he were trying to stop himself from saying the wrong things or saying too much perhaps. Emmrich always wondered what quiet disagreement was taking place in his lover’s mind to leave him looking so conflicted… so forlorn. 

Alas, there would be time for that, once their fight against the Gods was over & they could both retire from the daily life or death scenarios. 

Eventually, Rook seems to shake himself out of the thought and looks back up at Emmrich sheepishly. “I… never did quite get that story out of my parents.”

“If you don’t mind me asking my Dear,” Emmrich starts, gently taking one of Rook's hands into his own, rubbing circles into the back of it. “What were your parents like?”

Rook snorts, “Stubborn, overbearing, controlling…” the young Qunari pauses briefly, as if reassessing something. “But… I suppose they were all I had really. The only ones who truly cared. Even if they showed it in one of the worst ways possible… even if it made me hate them.”

Emmrich nods somberly, taking Rook’s other hand in his as they stay standing at the dessert stall together. Instead of pushing further, Emmrich decides to leave space for Rook to think, and to potentially lead the conversation into whichever route feels most comfortable. So, for a while, neither man says anything & simply stand in a comfortable silence together. 

Rook, as usual, is the first to break the silence between the two men.

“Anyway, I didn’t bring you here to listen to my sad shit,” Looking up at Emmrich with a large {albeit half fake} grin, Az turns around to continue guiding his paramour into the rest of the market. “There’s this stall I think you’ll really like! Y’know, if it’s still here…”

“Oh?” Emmich asks, curious as to what the man could have planned to show him. It’s not as if they hadn’t already perused many Tevene establishments for magical tomes & items dozens of times prior.

Rook doesn’t answer, instead he continues to scan the stalls that surround them both with such dedication you’d think he was hunting an enemy in the middle of battle. 

“Aha!” Rook exclaims abruptly, rushing over to what seemed to be a small jewellery stall towards the back of the row. Hanging from the top of the stall are long rows of necklaces, all adorned with various jewels that were no doubt enchanted with some form of warding magic or glamour spell. Though, instead of setting his sights on those, Rook’s eyes instead scan through the display cases of rings and brooches on the table below.

After a few more seconds, Az picks up something small and presents it to Emmrich excitedly. Attracting the attention of the stall owner as he does, suspicion clear in her gaze as she watches the exchange cautiously. Probably to make sure the pair don’t run off with the item.

“I… I know it's not as fancy as your Nevarran stuff,” Rook mumbles, “but during our dinner the other night, something you said reminded me of this.”

Presenting the piece to Emmrich, Rook's hands seemed to shake lightly. It wasn’t so bad that it obstructed the item but  it was enough for Emmrich to notice. The sight of Rook’s nerves simultaneously warmed & pierced Emmrich’s heart. It was endearing to see that his Dearest cared so much about Emmrich’s opinion of him. Though, the frequency of the nerves did always leave him wondering: What in Thedas had this poor boy been subjected to previously? For him to be so nervous at any attempt at a genuine display of true affection?

The questions stung Emmrich every time they surfaced in his mind, so as usual he pushed them away for now. Instead of ruining the current moment, they would be something else that would keep him awake on particularly reflective nights. Until he could coax the answer from Az once their relationship wasn’t so… new and nerve wracking that is.

Once the thoughts subsided, Emmrich took a closer look at the piece of jewellery. It seemed to be a small collar pin, not so dissimilar to the skull one that Emmrich already frequently wore but there was something different about it.

Upon realization, Emmrich could have sworn that his heart skipped a beat: the collar pin was a tiny metallic lilac.

“Now - I know favourite colour isn’t exactly the same thing as favourite flower, but Lilac still is a type of flower! And to be fair to me - you still haven’t exactly told me what your favourite flower is! So I tried for the next best thing - Of course, If you don’t like it then that's fine! I can just find something in the style of your favourite flower instead! If you tell me what that is, I mean! - l um…” Rook pauses for a second, realising he’s starting to ramble. He takes a moment to take a deep breath & tries to refocus the conversation. “Anyway, sorry this is probably pretty silly isn’t it?” 

Rook lets out a small, nervous laugh as he glances away, embarrassed. Though this is abruptly stopped by Emmrich’s free hand which has seemingly made its way to his chin at lightning speed. 

“My Darling Boy…” the necromancer begins, guiding Rook’s eyeline back to his, a large & genuine smile on his face. “This is absolutely wonderful, and it truly warms me to know you brought me all this way to see it.”

With that smile, Rook feels the warm fuzzy feeling that always seems to sneak up on him whenever Emmrich’s around. His shoulders relax, his head begins to feel oh so free of the ever crushing stress, his eyes soften and he feels his body begin to feel lighter. Every time this happened, Az felt like he could lose himself in his beloved’s eyes for centuries. Seeing the warm, genuine care and affection within them could, for just a second, make him forget who he was, where they were… the fact that he was always one misstep away from utter heartbreak. 

He felt this way during every conversation, every flirtation, every amazing night they spent together. He adored it, he reveled in the way it made him feel like maybe, just this once things could finally be different, be lasting. 

Though, the joy always swiftly dispersed once he walked away from these encounters. Without Emmrich in view, he couldn’t stave off the doubts any longer… nor the memories. These moments were when the truth of the world came flooding back & he was reminded of the inevitability of betrayal which always plummeted him back down to earth harder each & every time.

So naturally, to avoid this inevitability, there’s lines, limits that Az wouldn’t… couldn’t ever cross. There always had been and there always would have to be. For if he strayed away from the usual dance, his usual script…

“Az?” Emmrich’s warm, familiar voice pierces directly through Rook’s thoughts, the large smile still evident on his face if not now featuring a small bit of concern. “Are you alright, my love?” 

“Yes, yes. Sorry! Not sure what’s got into me today.” Rook laughs half heartedly as he pulls the collar pin back from Emmrich, “So you like it?”

“Why of course-”

“Great!” Rook turns to hold the pin back out to the stall owner, “I’d like to buy this please.”

Before Emmrich can even fully process what's happening, Rook places a small black box into Emmrich’s hands & smiles brightly at him. 

“A gift… if you’ll have it.” Rook offers, smiling sheepishly.

It takes a few moments for him to catch up, but once he does the older gentleman’s cheeks begin to burn a light shade of pink. He was flattered enough that Rook had brought him all this way just to show him something that reminded him of Emmrich! For his beloved to buy it for him as well…

“You needn’t have my Dear truly, but thank you all the same… I shall cherish it deeply.”

With that, Emmrich swiftly places the small box into his waistcoat pocket for safe keepings. 

As he stands back up, he takes Rook’s hand into his own and stares lovingly at the man, wondering how he could soon return the gesture in kind. Though, before he could say anything else, the moment was abruptly cut short by an unknown voice from beside the pair.

“Az?”

Rook turns towards the source of the noise, his blood running cold the second he notices a familiar pair of eyes.

It’s amazing how a day can turn from wonderful to awful, at the drop of a hat.

“Maker, it really is you!” A young, extremely well groomed man yells as he stands before Rook and Emmrich. 

From what Emmrich can make out he seems to be Tevene, upper class if his outfit is of any indication and about Rook’s age. Unfortunately, his examination of the interloper was cut short when the man excitedly threw his arms around a clearly very uncomfortable Rook.

“Get the fuck off me.” Az hissed, shoving the man off of him. 

The stranger stumbles backwards slightly, shock painting his features as he stares at Rook incredulously. Though, only a few seconds pass before he seems to compose himself enough to begin nonchalantly brushing a crease out of his sleeve. 

“Sorry, I forgot you’re not much of a hugger.” He laughed, a tinge of bitterness coming through.

With his feet firmly planted in place, Rook glared at the man. His jaw clenched momentarily before he seemed to muster the words that would stun Emmrich more than anything they had experienced together thus far had.

“I’m. Not. Az.”

Now, It wasn’t the aggression that had caught Emmrich so off guard. Was it was unlike Az to be so immediately hostile? Why, of course it was! But as the stranger had just pointed out: Az was quite touch averse {except for when it came to Emmrich it seemed} so this part was somewhat explainable. What had truly thrown Emmrich was that Rook had just lied about who he was. 

During his time in the Veilguard Emmrich had grown to see that Az was a man who, despite all of his self doubt and anxiety, always seemed so proud of his identity. To see him suddenly reject his name & pretend to be someone he wasn’t.. Now that was the most perplexing and unexpected thing.

“W-what?” the stranger sputtered, leaning back for a second as he re-examined Rook’s face. After a few more moments of this he finally lets out another small, albeit uncertain laugh, as he shakes his head.“C’mon stop messing around. It’s me, Ren, remember?”

Rook stays as irritated and on guard as prior, crossing his arms as he glares back at the man. “Don’t know a Ren. Like I said: you got the wrong person.”

“Kaffas, don’t be ridiculous.I just heard him call you Az!” Ren gestures in Emmrich’s broad direction, irking the professor, as if the way he had been treating Rook hadn’t already vexed him enough. He hated being spoken about as if he wasn’t even there.

“Look… Az, please.” Ren’s tone softens as he lets out a slightly exasperated sigh, “I know we didn’t leave off on the best terms but, surely it’s been long enough now? We were kids-”

“It’ll never be long enough.” Az snaps back with more venom in his voice than Emmrich would’ve ever thought possible of the man. Then, seemingly dropping the wrong person act entirely, Rook steps away from the mystery man & a little closer to Emmrich. 

After a moment of silence from all three of the gentlemen, Az speaks up again, with the righteous conviction Emmrich’s only ever heard him use on the likes of the Venitori sneaking its way into his tone. 

“I don’t talk to traitors, or blood mages.” 

“Venhedis! Will you lower your voice?” Ren hisses back, stepping closer to Rook. 

However, before he can get too close, Emmrich instinctually moves forward. Not enough to stop their conversation, but just enough to force the gap between Ren & Az to stay as it is. He may not be much of a confrontational man but Emmrich would rather die than allow Rook’s boundaries to be trampled over. Even if he is lacking an alarming amount of context for this conversation at present moment.  

Ren looks up at Emmrich properly for the first time, irritated, with a hint of confusion painting his features. After a few moments of seemingly trying to assess the situation, it looks as if he returns to his original plan.

“I am not a blood mage.” He insists, focusing his attention back on Rook, “Nor am I a traitor Az-”

“And I’m not Az!” Rook retorts, glaring daggers at the man, though seeming to be a little less unnerved with Emmrich now acting as a physical buffer between the two of them. “Now kindly fuck off before this has to turn into a scene. I know your kind don’t like that.”

Ren seems to bristle at this comment, his jaw clenching as he glances away from Rook to make sure nobody really had noticed. Luckily for him, there were only a few eyes glancing, though that was still a few eyes too many for his comfort.

Without another word Ren turned and started to walk away. Only briefly pausing to glance back at the pair, almost as if trying to figure out an angle to continue the conversation. Thankfully, he eventually gives up and simply continues to walk away. 

~ ♡ ~

The two men travel home in silence together, Emmrich had tried to broach the subject but Rook just insisted that they continue their conversation back at the lighthouse. So, after what felt like the longest, most uncomfortable journey of their lives, the pair finally arrived back home.

“Rook,” Emmrich tentatively begins as he slowly closes Rook's bedroom door. “I hope it’s not too soon but I was really hoping we could talk-” before he could finish his sentence he heard a quiet broken sob from behind him.

Shocked, Emmrich’s whirls around, his eyes shooting up as he begins searching for the source of the noise. Only to find Az, standing in the middle of the room frozen, as quiet yet intense sobs continue to rack through his body. What parts of his face Emmrich can see are completely flushed red {well as red as a Qunari’s face can get}, tears streaking down his cheeks as he covers his face in a mixture of distress & shame.

“Rook, Darling? Are you alright?” The older gentleman asked as he rushed up to Az, making sure to not crowd his lover. He did, however, stand just close enough so that, spirits willing, Az could reach out to him with ease if he desired physical comfort.

Unfortunately Rook remains completely unresponsive to anything and after a few brief moments of this, it all seems to become too unbearable for the poor boy as his knees practically give way. Dropping to his knees, Az continues to keep his eyes shut tight. The only real noise that can be heard coming from the man is a mixture of the sobs and short, quick breaths.

Seeing his Love like this shook Emmrich, more than he’d expected seeing the man upset would. It wasn’t loud, it wasn’t explosive, it wasn’t anything Emmrich was used to helping comfort in students, friends or previous lovers alike. If Emmrich was to be honest, it wasn’t clear at all what was going on. It was simply as if the charismatic, funny, intelligent, strong man that he knew had completely shut down. 

In response, the necromancer moves a little closer and kneels in front of Rook, still not touching the man but merely ensuring that his presence stays known to his Beloved. 

“Do you remember the breathing exercises I shared with you and Ballara a few weeks ago Dearest?” Emmrich asks in a quiet, gentle voice as to not distress Rook any further. Once he notices a glimmer of recognition in what parts he could see of Az’s face he continues, “Could I bother you to try to re-enact them with me now?”

Over the next few minutes, Emmrich slowly takes Rook through the simplest of the routines that the trio had discussed previously when trying to encourage some self care habits in Bellara: Breathing in 3s.

Breathe in for 3 seconds, hold said breath for 3 more and then let it out slowly over the course of a final 3 seconds. As the exercise progresses, Emmrich counts out each second that passes. Once Rook seemingly masters the current allotted time for breathing, he then encourages him to increase the length of each action by increments of 1.  

This continues until, together, they are able to stabilise Az’s breathing. This development gives Emmrich the push needed to speak up once again.

“My Dear, I am so sorry today has distressed you so…” after a brief pause, “if there’s anything more I can do… I’m right here and will continue to be so until you dismiss me.”

The room remains quiet for a few minutes as the men sit in silence, though eventually one of Az’s hands begins to lower from his face. Slowly & shyly he looks back up at Emmrich, eyes bloodshot from crying and face still a little red,

“Darling,” Emmrich starts, heart and voice swelling with pure concern & affection before he’s abruptly cut off by Rook.

“I- I’m so sorry…” Az whispers, “I thought it would be okay… I didn’t think… Venhedis I’m so sorry.” 

Taken aback by the man’s words, Emmrich wonders why in Thedas Rook could possibly be apologising. Of course, an explanation would be appreciated but an apology? He would never expect it from a situation like this, especially when his beloved is so clearly and intensely distressed.

“Rook… Dearest… you have nothing to apologise for.” The professor coos as he raises his hand to cup Az’s cheek, tilting his head to look him in the eyes. “I am merely worried for you, My Love.” 

Rook sniffles slightly as he looks up at Emmrich, welcomed back into the eyes he was so happily, so ridiculously, losing himself in just hours before. He could almost lose himself in their endless comfort once again if he wasn’t interrupted by his lover a few moments later. 

“Please… if you could. I would greatly like to understand what happened today.”

Rook’s breathing stills a little at the request, it’s as if his whole body freezes yet again at just the idea of answering what on the surface seemed like such a benign question. But… it wasn’t truly benign was it? 

Prior to this, Rook had always been able to brush off the questions he’d received from the handful of lovers who had just happened to stumble in on him like this before; they all had quickly accepted that Az wasn’t one to talk much about these types of things. Anything too intense, too real, that was a no go. And frankly none of them cared enough to try again after asking once. But Emmrich… Vashedan. 

That man cared too much and saw too much , Rook knew he couldn’t lie to him.

He didn’t want to lie to him.

“I…” Rook starts, before he’s even figured out where his sentence is going. “You don’t understand… you don’t realise what you’re asking.”

Emmrich pauses momentarily, taking his time to really think through his next steps. After a few seconds, he gestures to the empty spot next to Rook. Once he receives a tentative nod in return, he sits himself down next to his lover. 

“Then tell me; help me understand, Az.” With that Emmrich places one hand in Az’s, holding it tight as he places his other hand on top. 

They stay like this for a few minutes, both men leaning into one another in that comforting silence that Az loved so damn much. 

Rook spends the time trying to figure out what to say and how to say it. Wondering whether he should even say it at all or if he should just grin & bear it as usual. Lying through his teeth to his partner in the process. Would it allow them to continue exploring what they were to each other? Or would it destroy the small amount of trust that they had been able to foster while Rook had still been desperately trying to keep the other man at an arm's length?

The fear of the latter seemed to be the thing that finally broke through to Rook. He couldn’t go on like this if he ever wanted something real… and no matter how many times up until this point that he had told himself otherwise… Gods did he want something real. 

So, Az finally decided to be brave. 

 “Okay,” he started through a shaky breath, “I told you, I didn’t live in Dock Town till recently. And that I grew up not far from it or that market...”

“Yes,” Emmrich responded hastily, hoping to encourage his companion to continue his train of thought.

“Well… turns out everyone likes to revisit the places they used to frequent from time to time. Whether they’re a common asshole… or a Magister's son.”

At this Emmrich’s eyes widened slightly: sure the young man that had so rudely interrupted their lovely day out was immaculately dressed but surely he wasn’t… Rook loathed most Magisters almost as much as he loathed all Venatori.

Rook let out a slight, self deprecating chuckle as he noticed the look on Emmrich’s face. 

“I know… a Magister's son and a random Qunari Laetan… How could those two be friends, right? Well, contrary to popular belief: some Magister’s kids aren’t born with hate and greed in their hearts.”

“Rook… why did you…” Emmrich starts, uncertain of exactly what he wanted to ask first. 

Luckily, or unluckily depending on how you view the situation, before he could give it much more thought Emmrich was abruptly cut off by Az again.

“If I admitted who I was… if I said ‘Yes Ren, it’s me, I remember you!’ I wouldn’t have been able to… We wouldn't have gotten out of that market without me killing a Magister's son… and us needing to avoid Minrathous again… that’s not an option.” Rook pauses, breath growing a tad shaky, “I couldn’t do that again. Not when there’s so much at stake. Not just for Minrathous, not just for my home… but for the world…”

The elder gentleman let out a slight hum of understanding, starting to rub circles into the top of Rook’s hand again as he continued to leave space for Az. Not daring to interrupt the flow of vulnerability that he had honestly never thought he’d ever witness from the man.

After a few more moments of this, Rook speaks up again. 

“If it’s alright with you Emmrich,  I don’t quite have the energy to go too deep into it tonight… I can give you the short of it though… for now?”

Emmrich simply nods, pushing his questions aside for tonight as he instead continues to focus all of his attention on Az, leaving the Qunari trying not to burn up again from a mixture of embarrassment & shyness. Though after withstanding a few seconds of the intense concentration that was being directed at him, Rook seems to be able to refocus on his own words. 

“Okay, so… Ren and I were friends when we were younger… and well… I suppose at one point we were something more to each other than that. Though it turns out, the apple really never does fall that far from the tree.” Az lets out a small, bitter laugh before continuing. “Anyway, thousands of lies, 1 dead close family friend of mine & of course 1 blood magic ritual later and… well let’s just say it took me a long time to even think about going near that market again. Nevermind…”

Another heavy, still silence fills the air, though this time it’s one of shock. 

Emmrich knew Rook didn’t talk about his past much, as someone who also didn’t talk about his own a great deal, Emmrich had assumed it was for similar reasons. There were probably some painful things Az didn’t want to talk about in fear of resurfacing past upsets but… this was just a snippet and it was already so much more than the necromancer had expected the poor boy to have been subjected to.

“In any case,” Az starts again, wiping a stray tear from his cheek as he moves away from Emmrich slightly, “I suppose… as a result - I don’t really do relationships anymore… not really anyway. It’s a lot harder to have something real with someone when they realise you’ve got way more baggage than you’ve been letting on.” Rook fails to stifle a self deprecating, harsh laugh. “Even harder when you have to keep all your shit weird bottled up, pretend you’re not constantly on the edge of a panic attack and now I suppose lead the fight against a pair of Elvhen gods while a third is in your head.”

A few moments of silence fill the room as Emmrich stares incredulously at the man before him. 

Rook, Az, the unfaltering leader of the Veilguard as Emmrich had come to know him… the man who faced every single horrific, dire situation head on since the men had met. His Darling Boy wasn’t infallible after all. In fact… he was almost just as bad as Emmrich at avoiding all of his problems till they came crashing down on him in one fell swoop.

 “So… I guess what I’m saying,” Az begins again, this time in a much quieter voice. “Is, I understand if this is a bit… much. I’ll try not to hold it against you if you wanna call this off now.”

It’s as if those final words immediately snatch Emmrich out of his thoughts, his eyes snapping back up to Rooks somehow even more full of shock and concern than before.

 Surely Az couldn’t be suggesting…?

“Joking,” he quickly continues, “Sorry, I wouldn’t hold it against you at all… I couldn’t if I tried really... Y’know, If you wanted to call it quits here I mean… I- I’d get it.” He finished with as big of a smile as he could muster, turns out it wasn’t much of one and by the Gods did it look like it would break at any moment.

Without saying anything else, Emmrich simply steps closer to Az, grabbing his beloved’s chin to tilt it back towards his gaze. 

“Dearest,” he begins, staring deeply into Az’s eyes, “nothing could keep me from your side.” The professor takes one of Rook’s hands in his free one and grips it tightly. “Especially not something as natural as history, as ‘baggage’. Spirits willing Az… I will stay by your side into the afterlife, or at least for as long as you’ll have me.”

A few seconds of silence pass as Rook tries to process the words that had just left his lover's mouth. Never in a million years had he expected to find such genuine care and affection… someone that would not only see him collapse in a heap of distress but someone who would also stay with him the entire time and then accept him… with all of his ever growing pile of weird Vashedan.

Overcome with relief and an overwhelming sense of acceptance, Rook steps closer to Emmrich, crashing his lips into the necromancers. His free hand worms its way around Emmrich’s back to pull them closer to one another as the kiss is returned just as eagerly. Emmrich leans into it, releasing rook’s hand only to wrap his own arm around the Qunari’s waist, tightening the embrace further.

And they stayed like that. For as long as they could, they stayed like that.

[nerdie-faerie]

Currently thinking about the last time I met up with my college friends, and we went around the table reintroducing ourselves with names and pronouns, cus it gets like that. And every time it would come around to me, I would deflect and distract instead of answering because I hadn't actually figured it out yet. It's coming up on a year since then, I still have no idea what the answer would be

[dravidious]

You're more amazing than dead bodies

Spent the morning playing an indie game called Supraland that I got somehow ages ago, maybe from a bundle or something, and it's a pretty decent puzzle-platformer game, but for some reason it also has combat in it? And the combat is really bad, you just spam attack as fast as possible and the enemies take like 10 hits to kill, it's a pain. And then they gave me a combo attack that does 100 damage in a big AoE and it kills every basic enemy in one blast, and it's basically free to use, so now the combat is just. nothing. Lesson of the day: Don't put combat in a game if you don't want to make good combat.

[shxuga]

Not said | Sylus

I'm in love with this man, and I wanted to introduce myself by writing something about him in the best way… fluffy and self-indulgent! I hope you enjoy the read, English is not my first language ;; Likes and respoted are aprecciates!

It was crazy...

Yes, crazy. Because... How did you go from repudiating and fearing the infamous leader of Onychinus... to... to this?

His soft hair shook as he rocked his face to the left, settling his sleeping form better into your bed. And, clearly, as the mature woman you are and not at all affected by his celestial beauty, you did not annihilate the voracious impulse to shake your legs and slide your fingers through his pretty grayish strands.

You sighed, feeling out of place in your own home. In your own bed! With the curtains closed, somehow trying to wipe most of brightness of Linkon's sun, that your... Ally? Buddy? Lover...?

Gosh, you weren't even sure about that...

Yes, definitely, crazy.

You couldn't even try to figure out Sylus. No matter how hard you tried to collect each piece of his complex puzzle... Most of the time you felt at a dead end.

You blame his pretty voice, his sharp but gentle features, the damn way he pronounced your name, and how he acted when it came to you. God, his damn treatment of you...! That started being so cold, almost spiteful, as if with his words and behavior he will "subtly" (because the bastard wasn't subtle at all!) demand that you remember something he didn't even bother to explain.

The memories in your mind were confusing, blurry and melancholic.

It was strange...

You did not remember exactly that mysterious past, and your "first" meeting was undoubtedly bitter... And now, much to your regret, is the moment where you most feel that your relationship with him wanders on a different astral plane! Completely unrelated!

Because... What the hell were you two?!

There was something implicit there, something mutual that, for better or worse, neither of you had dared to utter. Plus, he completely contradicted himself at times like these. Where the words become extinct, the walls collapse and only that soft perfume of vulnerability remains that surrounds both.

When the cold, calculating and demanding leader became a mirage, leaving only a man... just Sylus.

When he laughed at your antics, and his pretty eyes crinkled in tenderness. Or when he poured honey from his lips, calling you affectionate nicknames that made the butterflies in your stomach flutter. The stolen pettings, where his fingers lingered longer than they should along your hair, those times when his knuckles subtly traced your shoulders and the sides of your arms, or those moments where he let his fingers protectively around your waist.

Moments like these... Where without warning he arrived at your apartment, and took over your bed. If you had a nickel for every time his actions nearly gave you a heart attack, chances are your wealth would begin to rival his.

"Can't you sleep?" His hoarse, sleepy voice startles you, tearing you out of the limbo of your thoughts.

"How could I? It's past twelve." You complain, to which he hums, slowly opening his eyelids.

And there it is again.

Those damn eyes... Those eyes that looked at you as if you were the most important thing to him, with absolute adoration. Full of that affection that made your skin tingle and your knees weak. God, how come this man who initially acted like a demon... Did it end like this?

Overwhelmed, you decided to look away.

His large hand cupped your chin with a firm softness, encouraging you to return your gaze to him.

"Yeah? Is that why you haven't taken your eyes off me?"

Damn.

At this point, it should no longer surprise you that he'll notice those things... But damn! That didn't make it any less embarrassing.

He must have noticed your embarrassment, because his sly smile widened.

"You were looking at me with such intensity that I thought you were going to pierce my face, kitten."

"I-I don't...!" Excuses die out in your tongue, there is no use arguing. You push his hand away and sigh. "Just... I was just thinking."

That gets his attention. He rests his face on his bent arms, and you try hard to pretend that it is something as banal to other mortals as settling into bed, they make it look so perfect, so ethereal, like a muse out of a painting.

It was driving you crazy.

"Yeah? And what were you thinking, pretty?"

Once again, you have to do your best to put on your best poker face to disguise the effect that their disgustingly (wonderful, perfect, amazing) cloying nicknames have on you.

"Nothing in particular..." Your lie is evident, especially by how you avoid his gaze and nervously play with the bedsheets.

He hums, of course he doesn't believe you, in fact, you're sure he already gets the idea... But, as always, he gives you your space, followed with silent reverence the path you chose, and sticks to you with each of your decisions.

Instead, he pulls your arm and wraps it around you lazily, settling your face into his chest, barely hidden under a thin tank top. You can feel his nose on your hair, gently inhaling. Shame pulses through your bloodstream. 

"Sy-Sylus...?!"

"Just pretend I'm one of your plushies and try to get some sleep." Sylus pronounces, and you perceive how drowsiness quickly takes over him. There's nothing you can do, not when those strong arms have you happily captive in their embrace. You can only huff and resign. You listen carefully to the pulse of his heart, as erratic as ever, even when he is in this calm state.

The haze of your memories returns to you for an instant. The smell of sulfur and blood, your fingers on a sword and his voice encouraging you not to stop pressing the dagger... Or else, there would be no turning back.

Absently, your fingers outline where the scar should be, unaware of the effect your touch has on it. He shivers, one of his eyes opens and you feel how his gaze shines with intensity, while he holds your wrist firmly with his fingers.

"Kitten..." He warns, and you lower your hands quickly. He laughs, that rich tone, snuggling back into you.

Once again, a sigh leaves your lips. You imitate him, burying your face in his chest, delighting in the persistent rumble of his heart and the manly scent of his cologne.

Yes, there was a lot he hadn't said... But his actions were very clear. And that was enough, at least for now.

[thekitsunesiren]

Dc x DP #50: Accidentally Kidnapping a (ex) Crime Lord

(I've seen that reverse trope list, so I just had to do it. I might do more in the future. But for now, here's accidentally kidnapping a mafia boss in dc x dp format) Jason awoke with a low groan, slowly lifting his head as his eyes blinked to take in his location.

It had happened so quick. So quick that he couldn't even blink.

There was word going around Crime Alley of a new stray making their way around. Which wasn't new given that it's Crime Alley and Gotham altogether, but there was definitely something wrong with the kid.

Apparently everyone who met him got some odd vibe. Like there was something wrong with him. Many said that he was a meta on the run, but there were others that didn't believe that.

And when Jason found out he was in Crime Alley, it was like something cold walked through him. Like someone was walking over his grave. Figuratively and literally. Something bigger than him was in his territory. Something dangerous. And every bit of him said that it was the new kid.

So Jason set out to look for him. He wasn't going to let the others find out about this, not when it was on his turg. And perhaps if he could figure out what he was, perhaps ask why he calmed the pits in such a way.

He looked into the kid, a Daniel "Danny" Nightingale from the looks of it, and that he was only sixteen. No talk about any parents, but there was word of an older sister, Jasmine Nightingale, that was going to Gotham University to study psychology. But other than that? Nothing. Zilch. As if the two appeared out of nowhere. LIke ghosts.

So, Jason took to tracking him physically. Trying to figure out where he went and if he met with anyone in particular that might raise suspicion. Whether it be some other thugs or a some gang of some sort. But he had no such luck. Not because he wasn't meeting anyone, it was he always lost him. Every corner he turned, he was always gone when Jason walked around to follow him. It was like the kid was a ghost. Did he know that he was being followed?

It was late one night when Jason caught sight of Danny on his own, walking down the street with his hands stuffed in his pockets. Thinking that he was either going to meet someone or head home, he decided to trail him and see if he could finally fill another piece of this puzzle that was Nightingale.

Jason was right on his heels as he turned the corner leading to another street, ready to confront him. But once again, Nightingale was gone.

And before he could even curse or question as to where he could've gone so quickly, a heavy thunk was heard as something heavy hit the back of Jason's head. The last thing he saw before losing unconsciousness was a pair of worn sneakers as as the attacker approached him.

Which lead him to here: tied up in a worn down apartment. Nightingale standing across from him in what he supposed was a threatening manner. A baseball bat with a faded glowing green sticker on its base. Jason could make out the word 'Fenton' on it and made sure to look up that name later once he was out of this mess. But for now, he had to deal with NIghtingale.

Jason turned his attention to him, but with his helmet on he doubted Nightingale could tell whether his gaze shifted to his chosen weapon or not. But the slightest movement was enough to tell Nightingale that Jason was indeed awake from his unconscious state.

But before Jason could speak or make any comment about the situation, Nightingale beat him to it.

"What do you want with me?" He asked bluntly. It was one question that Jason wasn't expecting, so he stared at Nightingale confused.

"What?" Came the robotic reply of his voice filter. Apparently that wasn't the right answer as Nightingale let out a frustrated huff and waved his bat towards him.

"What do you want with me? You've been following me for some time and it's getting annoying? What are you? A thug? A goon? Or are you another rogue trying to make it big. Gotta say; not a good start just by stalking someone if you were."

His words had shocked Jason to his core for various reasons. One: he didn't know who Jason was. Two: apparently he was skilled in knowing when he was followed and Jason couldn't tell. And three: HE DIDN'T KNOW WHO JASON WAS!

Jason let out a dry laugh as he realized that he was serious about his questions. Nightingale has been here for months at least. So how did he not know about the notorious Red Hood? His reputation usually brought fear to those. It was strange for someone in Gotham not to know about him.

"Do you seriously not know who I am?" Jason asked, his eyebrow raised in a question even though his hood covered it, he was sure that Nightingale understood his confusion. His blue eyes shining in confusion as he tilted his head.

"No? Are you a rogue already? Ancients, they keep popping up every week." He groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose. And while Jason could agree to the sentiment, he needed to get to the bottom of Nightingale and what he was doing here. And whether or not he was a threat to Gotham, or at least Crime Alley.

"I wouldn't call myself a rogue. Not anymore at least. The name's Red Hood, kid." Jason answered gruffly, eyes still focused on Nightingale as he waited for his reaction.

Nightingale titled his head at the name. Recognition flashing his eyes as he heard it.

"Red Hood? But isn't that guy that runs crime alley? Why would that-"

His eyes widened in dawning horror, his already pale skin seeming to get paler as he came to a realization as he stared at Jason. More specifically, his hood.

Jason expected some panic. That perhaps Nightingale might even try to knock him out again or hightail it out of his apartment. But instead he just continued to stare at Jason in ever growing horror as he whispered,

"Oh Ancients, I just kidnapped a crime lord." Now, there was a lot that Jason wanted to unpack from this interaction, but for some reason the first thing that came out his mouth was-

"It's ex crime lord."

[urdreamydoodles]

Could we get some headcannons on how X-Men characters would deal with an s/o who struggles with verbal communication? (I was thinking someone who just struggles with words but they could be deaf or mute as well)

Like instead of talking they use notes, or gestures, or even actual sign language to communicate. I was thinking it’s usually done when the reader is struggling to ask for something directly, or just convey what they’re thinking.

(I wasn’t sure if you’d want specific characters to think of or if you’d want free rein, but I’ll list a few of my favourites; Wolverine, Nightcrawler, Gambit, Storm, Morph, Magneto, Beast)

X-Men x Reader

You struggles with verbal communication

Characters: Logan Howlett, Remy LeBeau, Kurt Wagner, Scott Summers, Ororo Munroe, Morph, Erik Lehnsherr, Hank McCoy, Jean Grey, Rogue, Cable & Wade Wilson

Logan Howlett aka. Wolverine

- You’d been living at the mansion for a while, and while most people understood your struggle with verbal communication, Logan didn’t seem to get it at first. He wasn’t rude about it, but his gruff nature often led him to misinterpret your gestures. “What, you can’t just spit it out?” he’d ask, crossing his arms. You’d roll your eyes and scribble something on a notepad, sliding it over to him with a sharp look. He’d grumble but take it, slowly realizing how much effort you were putting into every interaction.

- Logan started paying closer attention over time. He noticed how your hands moved when you gestured, how your eyes flicked to certain objects when you wanted something. He wasn’t the type to ask outright, but he started observing quietly, learning your nonverbal cues like he was piecing together a puzzle. One day, you found him practicing basic ASL signs in the corner of the library. “Figured it might make things easier,” he said when you caught him, scratching the back of his neck.

- He surprised you by using those signs during casual conversations, albeit a bit clumsily at first. When you were struggling to ask for help one day, he simply signed, What do you need? It wasn’t perfect, but it was enough to bring tears to your eyes. “Don’t get all weepy on me, kid,” he grumbled, handing you a tissue. Still, the small smile tugging at his lips showed he was proud of himself.

- Logan’s protectiveness shone through in unexpected ways. If someone gave you a hard time about not speaking, he’d step in with a sharp glare that could silence a room. “Got a problem with how they communicate?” he’d growl, leaving no room for argument. You never asked him to defend you, but his unwavering support made you feel seen in ways you hadn’t before.

- Over time, the two of you grew closer. Logan’s patience, hidden beneath his rough exterior, was a balm to your insecurities. One evening, after a particularly long day, you handed him a note that read, Thank you for understanding me. He read it silently, then looked up at you with an intensity that made your heart race. “Ain’t nothin’ to thank me for,” he said softly. “You’re worth the effort.”

- The shift from friendship to romance was seamless. Logan wasn’t one for grand declarations, but his actions spoke volumes. He started carrying a small notepad for you, just in case you ran out of paper. And when he kissed you for the first time, it was tender, unhurried, as if he was trying to convey all the words he knew you struggled to say. “You don’t need words with me, darlin’,” he whispered against your lips. “I get you just fine.”

Remy LeBeau aka. Gambit

- Remy was instantly intrigued by your quiet nature, his curiosity piqued when he saw you using gestures and notes to communicate. “Mon cher, you always this mysterious?” he teased with a charming smirk. At first, you thought he was just flirting like he did with everyone, but his genuine interest shone through when he started trying to decode your gestures without making you uncomfortable.

- He quickly turned your communication struggles into a game, guessing what you were trying to say with an exaggerated flair. “You tryin’ to tell me you hungry? Or you just wanna see ol’ Remy look like a fool?” he’d say, making you laugh silently. His lighthearted approach made it easier for you to relax, even when you struggled to get your point across.

- One evening, when you left a sketchpad on the table with a note reading, I’m not sure how to ask for help, Remy’s teasing demeanor softened. “Cher,” he said quietly, taking a seat beside you, “you don’t gotta be afraid to ask me for nothin’, yeah? I’ll figure it out.” His reassurance, paired with his playful charm, made you feel safe in ways you hadn’t expected.

- Remy’s natural adaptability shone as he started learning little tricks to help you communicate. He began carrying a deck of blank cards, writing quick responses or questions for you to use. “See? Now we both got somethin’ to write on,” he’d say with a wink, making the process feel less daunting. He even started teaching you French phrases, encouraging you to write them down when words failed.

- The moment things shifted between you two was subtle but impactful. One night, you handed him a note that simply read, I like you. His red eyes glimmered with mischief as he read it, but his smile was surprisingly tender. “Well, cher,” he said, leaning in closer, “guess it’s only fair I tell you somethin’, too.” Before you could respond, he pressed a soft kiss to your hand, his actions speaking louder than words ever could.

- Dating Remy was like navigating a whirlwind of charm and affection. He made it clear that he adored you, using every opportunity to show you how much he cared. From spontaneous gestures to quiet moments where he’d sit beside you, letting your notes and signs speak volumes, Remy proved that your unique way of communicating only made him fall for you harder.

Kurt Wagner aka. Nightcrawler

- Kurt noticed your struggle with verbal communication almost immediately, his empathetic nature drawing him toward you. “You do not speak much, ja?” he asked one day, his tone gentle and curious. When you nodded, he didn’t press further, instead offering you a warm smile. “I understand. We all have our ways.”

- He quickly adapted to your communication style, finding joy in the way you used gestures and notes. “It is like learning a new language,” he said with excitement, his tail flicking behind him. “And I am always eager to learn.” His enthusiasm made it easier for you to open up, his patience and kindness making every interaction feel effortless.

- One day, you hesitated, struggling to express something important. Kurt noticed your frustration and gently placed a hand on yours. “Take your time,” he said softly, his golden eyes filled with understanding. When you finally handed him a note that read, I don’t know how to ask for help sometimes, he nodded solemnly. “You never have to worry about that with me,” he assured you. “I am here for you, always.”

- Kurt began incorporating small acts of reassurance into your daily life, like leaving you notes of encouragement or learning more ASL to communicate with you better. His joy when you taught him new signs was infectious. “Did I do it right?” he’d ask, his tail curling nervously as he signed a simple phrase. Your smile was all the confirmation he needed.

- The turning point came one evening when you handed him a note that read, I think I’m falling for you. Kurt’s eyes widened, and a faint blush colored his blue cheeks. “Mein Schatz,” he whispered, his voice full of emotion. “You have no idea how happy that makes me.” He pulled you into a gentle hug, his tail wrapping around you in a protective embrace.

- Being with Kurt was like stepping into a world of unwavering kindness and affection. He made it his mission to understand you, to support you in every way possible. “You do not need words to tell me how you feel,” he said one day, his fingers tracing your hand. “I can see it in your eyes. And I will always speak for the both of us, if you need.”

Scott Summers aka. Cyclops

- Scott was initially unsure of how to approach you. He respected your quiet nature but didn’t want to overstep. When he saw you using notes and gestures to communicate, he made a conscious effort to pay attention, his leadership instincts kicking in. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do to make things easier,” he said one day, his tone sincere.

- He started picking up on your cues quickly, his analytical mind piecing together patterns in your gestures. “You don’t have to rush,” he’d say whenever you hesitated, giving you the space to communicate at your own pace. His patience surprised you, his usually stoic demeanor softening in your presence.

- One day, after a training session, you handed Scott a note that read, I feel like I’m slowing everyone down. He frowned, shaking his head firmly. “That’s not true,” he said, his voice steady. “You’re part of this team, and we support each other. Don’t ever feel like you’re a burden.” His words were firm but full of warmth, his unwavering belief in you shining through.

- Scott began making small adjustments to accommodate your communication style, like keeping a whiteboard in the common areas or encouraging others to be more patient. “It’s not about how you communicate,” he told you one evening. “It’s about making sure you’re heard.” His support made you feel seen in ways you hadn’t before.

- The moment your relationship shifted was quiet but profound. You handed Scott a note that read, I care about you more than I can say. He read it silently, then looked up at you with a rare, soft smile. “I care about you too,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. The kiss that followed was tender, his hands cradling your face like you were something precious.

- Being with Scott meant being with someone who valued every part of you. He made sure you always felt included, never letting your struggles define you. “You don’t need to say a word,” he told you one day, his hand resting over yours. “I’ll always understand.” His quiet devotion was a constant reminder that love didn’t need words to thrive.

Ororo Munroe aka. Storm

- Ororo was naturally drawn to your quiet strength. She noticed your use of notes and gestures early on, her sharp intuition picking up on how you often hesitated to ask for help. She approached you with her characteristic grace, offering you a kind smile. “You speak in your own way,” she said softly. “And I’d like to listen, if you’ll let me.” Her calm understanding put you at ease immediately.

- Ororo quickly adapted to your style of communication. She never rushed you, instead waiting patiently for you to finish writing or signing. “Take your time,” she’d say whenever she noticed you struggling. Her respect for your pace made you feel valued, and you found yourself opening up more around her.

- One day, you handed her a note that read, I don’t know how to ask for what I need sometimes. Ororo’s serene expression softened, and she placed a gentle hand over yours. “You’ve already asked by sharing this with me,” she said. “Let me help you carry that weight.” Her words felt like a soothing balm, her unwavering support reassuring you in ways you hadn’t expected.

- Over time, Ororo began incorporating subtle gestures to show her understanding. She’d leave small notes of encouragement in places she knew you’d find them, or create gentle winds to carry your written messages to her during training sessions. Her actions spoke louder than words, and they reminded you daily of her care for you.

- The turning point came during a quiet evening in the garden. You handed Ororo a note that read, I think I’m falling for you. Her silver hair shimmered in the moonlight as she read your message, a radiant smile spreading across her face. “The feeling is mutual,” she said, her voice filled with warmth. She leaned in to kiss your forehead, her touch as gentle as a summer breeze.

- Being with Ororo was like standing in the eye of a storm—peaceful yet powerful. She made you feel seen and cherished, her understanding and empathy creating a safe space for your love to flourish. “Your voice is beautiful,” she told you one day, tracing your hand with hers. “Even if it’s not always spoken aloud, it still reaches me.”

Kevin Sydney aka. Morph

- Morph immediately took an interest in you, his playful nature making him curious about your quiet demeanor. “So, what’s the deal?” he asked one day, his tone lighthearted. When you handed him a note explaining that you struggled with verbal communication, his face lit up with excitement. “A challenge, huh? I love a good puzzle!”

- He made it his mission to understand your gestures and notes, often turning your interactions into a game. “Okay, charades it is!” he’d say, mimicking your motions in exaggerated ways that made you laugh. His humor took the pressure off, and you found yourself enjoying his company more than you expected.

- One day, you scribbled a note that read, I’m not good at asking for help. Morph read it aloud, then gave you a dramatic bow. “Lucky for you, I’m great at helping!” he said with a grin. Despite his joking tone, his sincerity was evident in the way he stuck around, always ready to lend a hand.

- Morph’s shape-shifting abilities came in handy when it came to communicating. He’d transform into a giant hand to mimic your gestures or into a cartoonish version of himself to make you laugh when you were feeling down. His creativity knew no bounds, and his efforts to connect with you were as entertaining as they were heartfelt.

- The moment things shifted between you was as spontaneous as Morph himself. You handed him a note that read, I think I like you. He gasped dramatically, clutching his chest like he’d been shot. “I knew it!” he said, pulling you into a spin. When he set you down, his usual joking demeanor softened, and he leaned in to kiss you gently. “I like you too,” he said with uncharacteristic tenderness.

- Being with Morph was an adventure in every sense of the word. He made sure you never felt isolated, using his humor and shape-shifting to keep things light and fun. “You don’t have to say a word,” he told you one day, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “I can read you loud and clear, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Erik Lehnsherr aka. Magneto

- Erik was initially perplexed by your communication style, his analytical mind trying to make sense of your hesitations. When he realized you relied on notes and gestures, he was intrigued rather than dismissive. “An unconventional approach,” he mused. “But effective, nonetheless.” His curiosity made you nervous at first, but his lack of judgment slowly put you at ease.

- He began studying your gestures with the same intensity he applied to everything else, determined to understand you fully. “Communication is an art,” he said one day, watching as you wrote something down. “And you are a master of it, even without words.” His respect for your efforts made you feel seen in a way you hadn’t experienced before.

- One evening, you handed Erik a note that read, I feel like I’m a burden. He read it silently, his expression darkening. “You are not a burden,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You are resourceful, intelligent, and resilient. Never diminish yourself in my presence again.” His words, though blunt, were filled with an undeniable care that warmed your heart.

- Erik’s efforts to support you were both subtle and grand. He’d manipulate small metal objects to write words in the air for you or create intricate metal sculptures to convey messages when you struggled. His actions showed a thoughtfulness that contrasted sharply with his usual stern demeanor.

- The turning point came during a quiet moment in his study. You slid him a note that read, I care about you more than I can say. Erik’s sharp eyes softened as he read your words. He set the note down carefully, then reached for your hand. “And I care for you,” he said, his voice low and steady. His kiss was deliberate, filled with the kind of intensity that only Erik could bring.

- Being with Erik was like standing beside a force of nature—powerful, unyielding, and deeply protective. He made sure you always felt valued, his actions speaking louder than any words ever could. “You don’t need to speak,” he told you one evening, his hand resting gently on yours. “Your presence is enough.”

Hank McCoy aka. Beast

- Hank was fascinated by your unique way of communicating, his scientific mind eager to understand the nuances of your gestures and notes. “A fascinating approach,” he said the first time he saw you write something down. “May I inquire further?” His genuine interest made you feel less self-conscious, and you found yourself opening up to him quickly.

- He started keeping a notebook nearby, jotting down your cues and gestures like he was studying a new language. “It’s remarkable how much you can convey without words,” he said one day, his admiration evident. His encouragement made you feel proud of your communication style, rather than ashamed of it.

- One afternoon, you left a note in his lab that read, I feel like I’m too much work for people. When Hank found it, his brow furrowed, and he immediately sought you out. “You are never too much work,” he said, his voice filled with conviction. “If anything, you’ve taught me to see the world in a new way, and I’m grateful for that.”

- Hank’s support manifested in practical ways. He developed small devices to make it easier for you to communicate, like a digital notepad that converted your writing into speech. “A little invention of mine,” he said with a sheepish smile. “I hope it’s helpful.” His thoughtfulness left you speechless, your gratitude clear in the way you hugged him tightly.

- The moment your relationship shifted was as gentle as Hank himself. You handed him a note that read, I think I’m falling for you. Hank read it carefully, his blue fur bristling slightly as he looked up at you with wide eyes. “The feeling is mutual,” he said, his voice soft. His kiss was tentative but warm, filled with the quiet intensity that defined him.

- Being with Hank was like being wrapped in a cocoon of warmth and understanding. He made sure you always felt supported, his kindness and intellect creating a safe space for your love to grow. “Your voice is unique,” he told you one day, his hand resting over yours. “And I consider it an honor to understand it.”

Jean Grey aka. Marvel Girl / Phoenix

- Jean noticed your quiet demeanor and alternative way of communicating long before you realized. She often caught glimpses of your emotions through her telepathy, though she never intruded. When you passed her notes or gestured instead of speaking, she responded with patience and understanding, letting you take the lead. “Take your time,” she’d say softly, her gentle smile a constant reassurance.

- Jean quickly adapted to your style, finding ways to bridge the gaps in communication. She subtly enhanced your gestures with her telepathy, sensing what you meant before you could even fully convey it. “It’s like we have our own secret language,” she teased one day, her green eyes sparkling. Her ability to meet you halfway made you feel less alone.

- One day, during a quiet moment in the mansion’s library, you hesitated before passing her a note. It read, Sometimes, I feel like I don’t belong here. Jean’s expression softened as she read it, and she reached out to take your hand. “You belong wherever you choose to be,” she said, her voice filled with conviction. “And right now, I’m glad you’re here with me.”

- Jean began leaving small notes for you as well, little affirmations that brightened your day. “You’re stronger than you think,” one read, tucked under your door. “You don’t have to say a word for me to know how amazing you are,” said another, left with your breakfast. These gestures reminded you that she was always thinking of you, even in the smallest ways.

- The shift in your relationship came during a walk through the garden. You handed her a note that read, I care about you, more than I probably should. Jean’s face lit up with a radiant smile, and she reached up to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Good,” she said softly. “Because I feel the same way.” Her kiss was gentle and warm, like sunlight breaking through the clouds.

- Being with Jean felt like basking in a calm, nurturing presence. She understood you deeply, both through her powers and her heart. “You don’t need words to express yourself,” she told you one day, her hand resting lightly on your cheek. “You’ve already said everything I need to hear.”

Anna Marie aka. Rogue

- Rogue was drawn to your quiet, introspective nature. She was no stranger to feeling out of place, and when she noticed your reliance on notes and gestures, she connected with you immediately. “Ah reckon we’re both a little unconventional,” she said one day, her Southern drawl soft. “But that’s what makes us unique.”

- She made it her mission to understand your style of communication, often using humor to lighten the mood. “What’s this one mean?” she’d joke, mimicking your gestures dramatically. Her teasing was never mean-spirited, and her playful attitude made it easier for you to relax around her.

- One afternoon, you left her a note that read, I’m afraid people will get tired of me. Rogue’s gloved hand tightened around the paper, her expression shifting to one of fierce determination. “Sugar, if anyone ever makes ya feel that way, they’re not worth your time,” she said firmly. “Ah’ll never get tired of ya, that’s for sure.”

- Rogue’s physical limitations due to her powers didn’t stop her from showing her care. She’d use small gestures like slipping notes into your jacket pocket or brushing her covered hand against yours to reassure you. Her creativity in expressing her feelings mirrored your own, making you feel understood on a deeper level.

- The turning point came during a late-night conversation in the mansion’s common room. You passed her a note that read, I think I’m falling for you. Rogue’s green eyes widened, and she bit her lip nervously. “Ah’ve been feelin’ the same way,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. She leaned in, her gloved hand cupping your cheek as she kissed you carefully, mindful of her powers.

- Being with Rogue was like finding a kindred spirit. She understood the challenges of feeling different and made sure you never felt isolated. “You don’t need to say a thing, darlin’,” she told you one day, her smile soft and warm. “Ah know exactly how ya feel.”

Nathan Summers aka. Cable

- Cable’s gruff exterior initially made you hesitant to approach him, but he surprised you with his patience and attentiveness. He noticed your preference for notes and gestures right away, his keen tactical mind quickly adapting to your style. “Communication’s about understanding,” he said once. “Doesn’t matter how you do it, as long as it works.”

- Despite his hardened demeanor, Cable showed surprising softness when it came to you. He’d take your notes seriously, his cybernetic hand carefully holding the paper as he read. “Got it,” he’d say with a small nod, making you feel heard and respected.

- One day, you scribbled a note that read, I don’t know how to ask for help. Cable’s steel-blue eyes softened as he read it, and he placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “You don’t have to ask,” he said simply. “I’ll always have your back.” His words, though straightforward, carried a depth of sincerity that stayed with you.

- Cable’s actions spoke louder than words. He’d leave you supplies he thought you might need or subtly adjust his schedule to be around when he thought you might struggle. His protective nature made you feel safe, even without verbal reassurances.

- The moment your relationship shifted was quiet but profound. You handed him a note that read, I think I’m falling for you. Cable read it, his expression unreadable at first. Then, a rare smile crossed his face. “Guess I’ve been waiting for you to say that,” he said, pulling you into his arms. His kiss was firm yet gentle, a reflection of the man himself.

- Being with Cable was like having a steadfast anchor in a chaotic world. He didn’t need flowery words to show his care; his actions spoke volumes. “You’ve got your way of communicating,” he told you one day, his voice steady. “And I’ve got mine. Together, we make it work.”

Wade Wilson aka. Deadpool

- Wade was immediately fascinated by your unique communication style. “You’re like a mysterious, silent protagonist,” he quipped one day, leaning dramatically against a doorframe. “Do I get to be the comic relief in your story?” His lighthearted approach put you at ease, though his constant chatter sometimes overwhelmed you.

- He took your notes and gestures as a challenge, often exaggerating his responses to make you laugh. “Oh, I see what you mean!” he’d say, even when he clearly didn’t. His antics were equal parts endearing and infuriating, but his genuine effort to connect with you never wavered.

- One day, you passed Wade a note that read, Sometimes I feel like I’m too much. He stared at it for a moment, unusually quiet. Then he grinned and said, “Too much? Sweetheart, have you met me? You’re like the perfect yin to my yang!” His humor was disarming, but the sincerity in his eyes reassured you.

- Wade found creative ways to communicate with you, often using props, drawings, or even sock puppets to convey his thoughts. “See? Communication is an art form,” he said, holding up a poorly drawn cartoon of the two of you. His efforts were chaotic but heartfelt, showing you how much he cared.

- The shift in your relationship came during a quiet moment in his usually loud life. You handed him a note that read, I think I love you. Wade froze, uncharacteristically speechless. Then, with a dramatic flourish, he scooped you into his arms. “I knew it!” he shouted, spinning you around. His kiss was surprisingly tender, a rare glimpse of the man beneath the mask.

- Being with Wade was unpredictable but filled with joy. He made you feel understood in his own chaotic way, proving that love didn’t need to follow traditional rules. “You don’t need words,” he told you one day, his voice unusually soft. “I get you. And trust me, that’s saying something.”

[sunni-stuff]

Adira and Mama have always celebrated valentines together. And now we have Simon, who in addition to wanting to create a connection with Adira, he also wants to recreate that "love" with Mom. So, this Valentine's Day, Simon and Adira team up to give Mom a wonderful gift!

Valentine’s Day.  

The holiday where people got all sappy, handed out cards, and smothered their significant others with roses and kisses. The streets would be painted in shades of red and pink, filled with the bustling energy of couples trying to outdo each other with grand romantic gestures. 

But for you, Valentine’s Day had always been about something else. Since Adira was born, it became a tradition to celebrate the love of your life in your own way. You didn’t need a partner to make the day meaningful; you had her. Every year, you’d gift her a small box of her favorite chocolates—indulgent, sweet pieces she’d greedily munch on, leaving her cheeks smeared with chocolate and her gummy grin brighter than the sun.  

You couldn’t help but remember the memory of how Adira’s love affair with that brand of chocolate started. Godiva Gold Collection—an unnecessarily expensive, fancy brand that had somehow become her favorite. You still had the box that started it all, tucked away in the closet of keepsakes, its shiny gold lid a time capsule of an unexpected moment from your early days at the daycare.

It was your first Valentine’s Day as an assistant, back before you had your own class. You’d been trying to keep a low profile, just another cog in the machine, but one of the dads had made that impossible. For weeks, he’d been flirting with you, persistent in a way that made you roll your eyes more than blush. Day in and day out, he’d linger a little too long during drop-offs or pick-ups, throwing out compliments like confetti. It was harmless enough, but you never entertained it beyond polite smiles.  

That Valentine’s Day, though, he decided to up the ante. Strolling in with his daughter on one arm and an elaborate, glittering box of chocolates in the other, he sauntered over to you with the confidence of a man who thought he’d already won.  

“I thought you might like these,” he said, handing you the Godiva box with a grin that was probably meant to be charming but mostly came off smug. “Figured you deserved a little something for always being so amazing.”  

You took the box graciously, murmuring a polite thank-you. And that’s when the moment turned unexpectedly sweet.  

Before you could even process the interaction, a tiny figure toddled into the room—Adira, barely one year old, her chubby legs carrying her as fast as they could toward you. Her little hand stretched up, fingers opening and closing in that unmistakable signal: I want.  

You smiled at her, heart melting as it always did. “Of course, little fox,” you murmured, placing the box carefully in her hands. She hugged it to her chest with the kind of pure joy that only a child could muster, her little fingers already fumbling with the lid.

The dad’s confident grin faltered as he watched the scene unfold. His brow furrowed in confusion. “Wait… You give chocolate to all the kids here? Isn’t that, uh, bad for them?” He gestured awkwardly toward Adira, who had now plopped herself onto the floor, fully engrossed in her mission to open the box.

You laughed softly, shaking your head as you stood back up. “No, I don’t give chocolate to all the kids,” you said, your tone gentle but firm. “Adira’s mine.”

The words hung in the air for a moment, and you watched as the realization dawned on him. His eyes widened, darting between you and Adira as if trying to piece together a puzzle he hadn’t even realized was in front of him.

“She’s… yours?” he asked, incredulous.

You nodded, glancing down at Adira, who had successfully pried the box open and was now holding a truffle in her tiny hands like it was a treasure. “Yep. My daughter,” you said, pride evident in your voice. “She’s the reason I started working here, actually. Thought it’d be a good way to balance work and being there for her.”

The man’s face turned an odd shade of red, and you couldn’t help but feel a small sense of satisfaction. He had assumed, just like so many others, that you were childless and ready to play along with his flirtations. But you weren’t. And that, in some small way, felt like a victory.

“Oh. Wow. I didn’t realize,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “I, uh, thought you were single. And… you know, childless.”

“Nope,” you said with a small laugh. “Very much a mom.”

He began backing toward the door with an apologetic smile. “Right, well… I should get going. My daughter’s probably waiting for me. Happy Valentine’s Day!” And just like that, he was gone.

Wasn't he holding his daughter?

His swift retreat had you chuckling even as you turned your attention back to Adira, who was now blissfully munching on her stolen treasure. She looked up at you, her grin wide and sticky, chocolate clinging to her growing pearly whites.

“Yum!” she declared, holding up another piece as if offering it to you.

Now, every Valentine’s Day, when you handed her a new box, she’d squeal with glee, just like she did when she was a baby. And every time, it reminded you why you didn’t need flowers, cards, or romantic gestures to make the day special.

Adira was your Valentine. She always had been, and she always would be.

Valentine’s Day had arrived once again, painting the streets with an abundance of roses, teddy bears, and couples hand in hand. The air was charged with the energy of love—or at least, that’s how the advertisements made it seem.

For you, it was a different story. As a single parent, Valentine's Day didn’t come with the same excitement. Instead, it was a quiet reminder of the love you shared with Adira—the kind of love that didn't need gifts or fancy dinners. You had your own little celebration planned with her at home, but first, there was work.

The daycare was closing early that day, giving most of the staff the chance to spend time with their partners. But for the rest of you—those without a special someone—it was business as usual. The meeting, something about the upcoming budgets for the year, was mandatory.

As you wrapped up your workday, you felt a twinge of guilt. Adira wouldn’t have the patience to wait while you sat through the meeting. She never did, and today wasn’t going to be any different. So, in a bit of a spur-of-the-moment decision, you called Simon. He was more than happy to help, even though the idea of being with Adira all afternoon seemed like a challenge. Still, he was eager to do what he could, giving you time to get through the meeting without worrying.

Unbeknownst to you, your apartment was currently in a state of complete disarray.

It all started when Simon, while rummaging through the pantry for snacks, stumbled upon a familiar gold box tucked in the corner. He didn’t know why the sight of the Godiva box stirred something in him, but it did. For a split second, his mind conjured up the idea that you had someone special—someone who’d given you the overpriced chocolate. His stomach twisted at the thought.

Why did that bother him? It wasn’t like he had any claim over you. You were just co-parenting. But still, the idea of some other guy swooping in and winning you over with fancy chocolates rubbed him the wrong way.

The thought simmered in the back of his mind until he turned to Adira, who was running around, triumphantly waving around her Barbie head like a trophy . An idea formed, one that made the edges of his frown soften into something more determined.

“How about we make your mom something special?” he proposed, crouching down to her level.

Adira’s eyes lit up, her face brightening with an enthusiastic grin. “Yeah! Special for Mommy!” She bounced to her feet, already brimming with elation.

“Alright, lass,” he said, ruffling her hair. “We’ll need a plan. Let’s get to work.”

By the time thirty minutes had passed, your apartment was barely recognizable. Flour dusted nearly every surface, glitter and scraps of colorful paper were strewn across the living room, and the faint smell of something slightly burnt wafted from the kitchen. Simon was in over his head.

He had underestimated two things: the sheer mess a three-year-old could create when left unchecked and the complexity of trying to bake cookies with said three-year-old as his assistant.

His phone laid on the counter, a lifeline to Gaz, who had graciously agreed to walk him through baking cookies. "Alright, I’ve got the dough… I think. What’s next?” he asked, glancing at the slightly lumpy mixture in the bowl.

On the other end of the line, Gaz chuckled. “Mate, it shouldn’t look like that. Did you actually measure the ingredients, or did you just eyeball it?”

Simon huffed, frustration bubbling as he wiped a streak of flour off his cheek. “I followed the recipe! Mostly. Adira added her own… interpretations.”

As if on cue, Adira, perched on a stool beside him, giggled mischievously, her tiny hands gripping the now-empty container of sprinkles. She enthusiastically dumped half of it into the bowl, sending a white puff into the air. She giggled uncontrollably as flour settled into her hair, making her look like a tiny ghost.

“Looks funny!” she declared, wiping her flour-dusted hands on his sleeve.

Simon groaned, but he couldn’t suppress the chuckle that followed. “Yeah, you look like you’ve been rolling around in snow.” Glancing at the concoction they were making, pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering to himself, “This is a disaster.”

“Oi, it’s not a disaster,” Gaz chimed in, his voice crackling slightly through the speaker. “You’ve just got… a creative helper. Roll with it. Kids love messy projects.”

As they moved on to rolling out the dough, Adira decided to take charge of the cookie cutters. She pressed them into the dough with all the strength her tiny hands could muster, creating wobbly fox shapes that were more abstract than symmetrical. “For Mommy!” she declared with each press, her little voice full of pride.

Simon’s heart softened at her excitement. Despite the chaos, she was having the time of her life, and he couldn’t deny that it was… fun, in a strange, messy sort of way.

“Alright, Gaz,” Simon said, propping the phone closer to his ear as he picked up a cookie sheet. “What temperature do I need to set the oven at?”

“Preheat it to 350. And keep an eye on those cookies—you don’t want them to burn.”

“Got it,” Simon replied, sliding the tray into the oven.

While the cookies were “baking” (a generous term for the mess he’d shoved into the oven), Simon pulled out some paper, markers, and glitter he’d found in your supply cabinet. Adira jumped in eagerly, grabbing a red marker to scribble a heart on a piece of paper.

“Mommy likes red,” she informed him with absolute certainty, her tongue poking out in concentration as she drew wobbly shapes.

“Aye, red it is,” Simon agreed, his own hands now dusted with glitter as he helped her glue a few sparkly hearts onto the card. “We’ll make it the prettiest card she’s ever seen.”

By the time the cookies were done, the kitchen was a disaster zone, glitter was everywhere, and Simon had flour smeared across his cheek. Adira was thrilled, though, holding up her homemade card with pride.

Simon pulled the cookies out of the oven, sighing in relief when they actually looked halfway decent. Adira gasped in delight, clapping her flour-dusted hands together.

“They’re perfect,” she declared, though one cookie was clearly missing a chunk where she’d snuck a bite of the dough earlier.

Simon chuckled, ruffling her hair. “You’re right, they’re perfect.”

By the time you got home, the chaos was still evident—scraps of paper littered the floor, flour smudged on the counters, and a sticky trail of frosting led to the living room. But in the middle of it all were Simon and Adira, sitting at the table with the slightly wonky cookies and a handmade card, waiting for you with proud grins on their faces.

"Happy Valentine’s Day, Mommy!” Adira exclaimed, jumping up to present you with her card.

Your heart melted at the sight, the mess fading into the background as you took in the scene before you. This wasn’t what you’d expected, but it was perfect.

Your voice caught in your throat as you held up the card Adira had made. The inside was adorned with little foxes, and the words scribbled across the page were a mix of Simon’s careful handwriting and Adira’s wobbly, childlike scrawl. The sentence read: “Call me Swiper because I’ve stolen your heart.”

You couldn’t help but smile, your chest tightening at the sight of it. The card was so simple, yet so heartfelt. It was a moment of pure, unfiltered love from the two people who had, in their own way, quietly wormed their way into your heart.

"You guys did all this…?" Your voice a little shaky, as you looked from the card to Simon and Adira, who were both sitting proudly at the table. Simon had flour on his cheek, and Adira’s face was a picture of joy, her hands covered in frosting and sprinkles. It was clear they’d both put their all into this little surprise.

Simon rubbed the back of his neck, a sheepish grin on his face as he shrugged. “Well, Adira here had the idea. I just... tried not to burn the cookies.”

Adira giggled, holding up one of the cookies as if it were a trophy. It was slightly misshapen, with sprinkles all over it, but it didn’t matter. It was perfect in its imperfection. “Mommy, for you!” she exclaimed, her voice full of pride.

Your eyes softened, your heart swelling with love and something else you couldn’t quite place—appreciation, gratitude, maybe even a little awe. The moment was small, yet so significant.

“Thank you, Adira,” you whispered softly, your heart swelling as you knelt down to scoop her up into a hug. She squirmed in your arms, giggling as she wrapped her tiny arms around your neck, her little fingers gripping your hair with an uncoordinated but tender affection.

Simon stood back, watching the two of you with a quiet smile. He didn’t say anything, but the look on his face was enough. He was content, knowing he’d been part of this moment.

“This is the best Valentine’s Day gift ever,” you murmured, pressing a kiss to her temple as she squished her cheek against yours, still grinning ear to ear.

Simon hesitated for a moment, a twinge of uncertainty crossing his face as he stood there watching the tender scene. He knew he wasn’t quite there yet, not in the way you and Adira had been all this time. He was a part of this moment, but he still wasn’t sure exactly where he fit in. His eyes flickered between you, your outstretched arms, and the small bundle of joy that was his daughter, so full of love and happiness—it made his chest tighten in a way he couldn’t ignore.

But then, your words cut through the haze of his hesitation. "Why are you just standing there?"

You were smiling, the playful hint of a challenge in your eyes, but there was something more in your voice too—an invitation. You didn’t have to say anything else; it was in the way you held out your arms, in the way you pulled him in with your gaze.

Simon took a slow, steadying breath, his heart beating a little faster. He moved forward, tentative at first, before lowering himself to kneel beside you both. Adira giggled as he wrapped his arms around the two of you, her laughter echoing in the warm air of the apartment. He wasn’t just trying to fit into a place anymore. He carved one out for himself—right there, with you and Adira. And that, more than anything, felt like home.

It wasn’t the romantic, picture-perfect Valentine’s Day you’d imagined in the past, but it was better. It was real. It was messy, sweet, and full of love. The kind of love that came in small, beautiful moments like these.

And for the first time in a long while, you realized that maybe this was exactly how it was supposed to be.

A/N: I just wanna say rq, I appreciate the love AND to the anon who sent this, your brain needs to be kissed. I said I wasn't gonna do long fics as often but this was too juicy to pass up. Thank you!

ALSO, pls yall don't have to send me asks to be on the taglist! If you comment I'll add u!

TAGLIST: @pipedream411 @ficcharsimp009 @frogofrg @loonagabs @lunamoonbby @vixenshiftsvrs @devoetee @shorty-tolentino @aethelwyneleigh27 @ayesha-eroticax3 @julesjuminos @tacticalgirlboss @teenagellamaangel @gifted-aurora @awildewit @emilia527 @danielle143 @maniacalbooper @t3a-bag @sockertop @arrozyfrijoles23 @azaleapeachberry @terry2227 @rip-cod-brainrot @montenegroisr @sweetheartturtle2007 @hepprine @kodokunarisu-blog

[proseandpretrichor]

Entwined | Jinx x Reader

Word Count: 598

Warnings: none -> just a short little thought blurb I had to write so my mind would shut up so I can sleep

You were her opposite in every way. It was hardly fathomable– the crazed criminal somehow wooing such a quiet and kind person such as yourself. You did share her notorious ambitions, just existing as a simple botanist living in one of the few docile suburbs of the undercity. You were the type of person to leave bowls of milk and water for the stray animals roaming the streets, unlike your cloud filled mind of your partner often found too dazed by the whirlwinds of her own mind to focus on anything else. While she built mechanisms of chaos, you created simple melodies of plants into teas, tonics, and remedies. Often selling these little miracles for such a small cost it seemed as though you were giving them away for free, something that was nearly unheard of in a place like the undercity. And these products not only were affordable, they worked! They worked exceptionally well, whereas the working class of the Undercity were doomed to rely on shimmer to continue with the grueling pace of the labor demands to provide, to eat, and sleep in a sheltered abode, you offered a chance of true health, of hope, of rest, of peace. Naturally, those who knew you, cherished you, none more so than Jinx. While at first the coupling seemed confusing and odd it soon clicked and couldn’t seem to make more sense. Jinx protected you and cherished you away from the extortionists of the Undercity, seeking to take your gifts and extort them for profit. In exchange for no cost, you gave Jinx a real understanding of the concept of true love, healthy love, happy love – no strings or obligations attached. You accepted her as she was waiting patiently to understand her past, unraveling the strings that wove together the misunderstood woman who held your heart in her jittery hands. And when the pieces of the puzzle finally clicked and you stood back and made sense of the whole picture that made Jinx well Jinx, you didn’t cower away in annoyance or fear, but embraced all the parts of her, even the messy jagged broken fragments. Even though it seemed as though your intertwined existences seemed to cancel the other out, you didn’t try to change her or soften her. You allowed her the freedom to exist as she was meant to, and figure out her place in the world, even when at most times she seemed to want nothing more to destroy it and certainly did her best to. And she knew… she knew for every explosion made by her hands, you were somewhere else mending the cracks and sewing the holes into faded little scares. So it really didn’t matter, then did it? — is the conclusion most people end on. It didn’t matter that you two were so biologically different, not when somehow it made you fit together all the while better. Besides, it's not like anyone could successfully tear you two apart, not if Jinx had anything to say about it– and she certainly did, as long as she was breathing you would be by her side. It didn’t matter what the pair of you concluded the tasks of the day, you would find your way back to each other. Wrapped into an embrace, one that slowly recharged the energy the day demanded of the two of you, and in that little pocket of the Undercity, a place of the forsaken, there was perfection given to the most damned of all women. So perhaps that makes her all the more deserving of it, you decide. 

[cloudywriting05]

one of your girls. — coriolanus snow.

we dont gotta be in love, no. i don’t gotta be the one, no. i just wanna be one of your girls tonight.

part two published, read here.

cw: dom!coryo, p in v, Bondage, vulgar language, pain during sex, daddy kink, slight sadism(?), 18+, slight non-con, etc

words: 3048 [good, GOD], MAY be grammar errors.

tags: @euphemiaamillais my lovely lady.

“Hey, Snow.” 

The blonde boy snapped his head at you, a stern look plastered to his face. You watched his eyes travel up and down your figure, his expression softened as a small smile crept on his face. He turned his body to face you and sighed.

You and Coriolanus’s relationship was unique, to say the least. You’ve known each other your entire life but dedicated your every day to one-upping each other. Your decade-long academic rivalry with him was something you found deeply annoying, and you knew if he wasn’t as attractive as he was, you would’ve killed him by now. Coriolanus found the rivalry thrilling. Watching you stress and work out to get the best grade was entertaining for him. On the days he was lucky, you would be in the library at the same time as him, searching for textbooks to grab before the other could. The number of times he caught himself peering down at your small figure, bent over, frantically digging through piles of chemistry books was criminal. 

The new school year had just begun, and you were instantly bombarded with strange rumours. Rumours about Coriolanus, more specifically, his dick. He’d allegedly slept with half of the grade’s female population, including your own friends. You rebuffed them initially, that was until you overheard the said ‘girls’ discussing it, confirming it all. You were annoyed, absolutely livid at the thought of Coriolanus sleeping with them. Why did he leave you out? Was this something else he was showing you that you could never get? Whatever he was doing was working. Fucking your entire friend group but purposely dodging you was a smart move on his behalf. But you were never a loser, never second place.

So here it brought you. Standing in front of your arch nemesis with your arms crossed. 

“Could I help you, gorgeous?” he purred, raising an eyebrow. 

“You’re a slut, Snow. Fucking all my friends is pretty corny, don’t you think?” you remarked, running a finger down the locker beside him. 

He looked at you, guilt written across his face. “I’m not a slut, little girl. And who told you that?” 

“Everyone. Everyone is talking about you and your dick, Coriolanus.”

“I got busy over the holidays. Who knew Academy girls could be so desperate for my dick?” he sneered, smiling to himself. 

“So why did you do it?” 

“Do what?” he asked, puzzled.

“Fuck everyone but me? Were you trying to tick me off? If so, it worked, Snow.”

He let out a laugh, completely bewildered. “Are you high? What are you trying to get at?”

“Did I stutter? You fucked every girl in my friend group but me, even though I should’ve been the first. Now, because you decided to fucking skip me, I have to hear about how freaky you are, or how big your dick is all day!” you blurted, your frustration getting by the absolute best of you as his nonchalant demeanor sent you over the edge. 

“So, let me get this straight; you’re angry at me because I didn’t fuck you?” he questioned, eyes wide, trying to comprehend what was coming out of your mouth.

You stuttered for a second. “Yes, yes I am.”

“We played sandbox together and here you are now, in this empty hallway, begging me to fuck you,” he said as he fixed his uniform.

“Oh, so you don’t wanna fuck me?” you purred, your arms crossed, looking up at him. 

“Just to piss you off, no I don’t. Doesn’t matter how hot I think you are, or how long I’ve wanted to for this to happen. I like seeing you mad.” he smiled, knowing he had ticked you off. “I’ll see you in bio, little girl.”

He spoke as he walked away. Your eyes twitched in anger; Snow could not win. Not today. 

“Fine, I’ll just ask Plinth!” your words stopped him right in his tracks.

He turned and stalked towards you, stopping only a few inches in front of you. He glared down into your eyes. “If you fuck Sejanus, I’ll kill you both and make it look like an accident.” 

You scoffed. “Would you, actually? I don’t know. All I know is that I want you at my house by eleven thirty. If you’re as good as one of the girls was vouching you were, then prove it. Or I’ll get one of your friends to, just to make it even.”

“You win, I’ll see you there, doll.”

It was eleven-twenty on the dot and there was still no sign of Coriolanus. You’d pondered about the interaction from today for hours, worried you came off too demanding. You thought to yourself for a while that he was going you stand you up and purposely not come, that would’ve sent you over the edge. You sat on your bed, every negative thought running through your head. Your thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the sound of frantic knocking. 

You rushed downstairs and stood in front of the door. “Who is it?”

“Is that a joke?” Coriolanus spoke from the other side of the door. “Let me in, sweetheart. I’m freezing.” 

You flung the door open, Coriolanus stood there, a smile plastered to his face. He sported a worn-out shirt that was fitted, hugging his chest. He paired it with pajama pants with a red pattern and slides that looked like they should’ve never left his house. He walked right past you into your home. “You look like you’re about to go to sleep, couldn’t dress sexier?” 

“I mean it’s gonna come right off, isn’t it?”

“Whatever, my room is upstairs and the first to your right.” 

“Perfect.” 

You watched the boy jog up the stairs and disappear behind the wall, following him shortly after. 

You entered the room to him sitting on the bed, using his arms to sit up behind him. You closed the door behind you without breaking eye contact. You could physically feel the tension in the room, his entire demeanor shifting from minutes ago. You felt almost chilled. 

He lifted himself from the edge of your bed and walked towards you, stopping himself only when his face was inches from yours. “Did one of the girls ever tell you what I did to them?”

You shook your head. “No, I don’t think.”

“I’ll have to show you, won't I?” he purred, his hand traveling up from your side to your chin.

“Yeah, I guess.” 

His hand landed on your cheek, taking you by surprise. You gasped as his hand returned to your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes. “Stupid girl. You wanted me to treat you like your friends, right? They didn’t talk, so why should you?”

You should’ve walked away; you should’ve told him to get out. The boy who defined your entire academy life just slapped you in the face and degraded you, yet your entire body yearned for his touch. You stared into his eyes, they were glistening, wild with power and lust. His blonde hair dimly lit by the streetlight peering through your window into your dark, cold room. You needed to get even; you needed him to fuck you to get even. You needed him inside of you and in that moment, you didn’t care if it was the last thing you did that night. 

“Tell me what you want me to do to you, now,” he demanded, his grip on your chin tightening as he forced you to look up at him, helpless.

You shook under his touch, completely powerless. “I- I want you to fuck me, Coryo.”

He lowered his head, resting his lips against your ear, sending a cold shiver down your spine and straight to your heat. “Say it louder, so everyone in the Capitol knows how much of a dumb, little slut you are for me. Say it.”

“I want you to fuck me because I’m a slut... for you.” you proclaimed, your voice projected as he breathed against your cheek, his grip on your chin still tight.

“Pathetic, but good enough,” he replied, he released your chin and moved himself away from you slightly. “Get on the bed and strip for me, now.”

You nodded dumbly, crawling onto the bed. You lifted your shirt over your head and tossed it on the ground beside you, removing your pants and underwear right after. You sat there idly, completely bare, whilst a clothed Coriolanus stood in front of you, fucking you with his gaze. His eyes traveled up and down your frame, admiring you.

He raised a hand and began to caress your cheek; you instinctively nuzzled your face into his palm causing him to softly laugh. “The smartest and prettiest girl in the academy, sitting naked waiting for me to fuck her like a good girl.”

He looked down on you, you were naked and nuzzling your face into his palm, inaudibly begging him to fuck you. You were desperate and it turned him on so much. The most stubborn girl he fawned over for years now naked and begging him to fuck her. He could feel his dick trying to break free from his pants just from the sight of you.

He walked away and disappeared into your open closet, leaving you clueless. He walked out with a ribbon in his hand.

“That’s my grandma's, Coryo. That’s the ribbon she gifted me. What do you need it for?” you questioned, puzzled.

“Put your back against your bed frame and stop asking me stupid questions. Sluts with dirty mouths like you, my dear, don’t get to talk.” 

You followed his command and shuffled up until your bare back was against the headboard, waiting patiently for his next command. You were the smartest girl at your academy yet there you were, brainlessly waiting for Snow to tell you what to do. 

He climbed onto the bed and motioned for your hand. “Give me your hands, doll.” 

You timidly raised your hand towards him. He grabbed your wrist and began to firmly tie the piece of ribbon around them, causing you to wince slightly. The thin material pressed against your skin as you looked at him, hopeless. There he had you. Your wrists tied, naked. Your knees spread exposing you. 

He took his time once again, admiring your small, fragile frame. “You look so gorgeous, let daddy see what’s between your legs better, okay?”

You nodded and spread your knees apart more, fully exposing your heat to the boy. He hovered over you, staring down at your pussy, glistening with juices. He used his hands to turn you over on your knees, your hands still restrained, using your elbows for support. 

“How many times did you speak to that bitch this week?” he inquired from behind you.

“Who? Sejanus? … Maybe three or four times, I’m not too sure–”

“Too many times. Way too many fucking times.”

You felt a hard hand land against your cheek, your back curled in pain as you threw your head between your hands. It was followed by another, causing you to cry out in pain. He slapped your ass again, and then once more. Painful groans escaped your lips as you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to ignore the pain.

“Four slaps for four conversations. Turn over and spread your legs a bit more for me, okay?” 

You dumbly followed, still wincing in pain. You turned yourself onto your back and spread your legs as far as you could, quivering and vulnerable. Coriolanus watched, entranced by your naked body. You looked at the boy, gawking at you. His hand grabbed your tied wrists and lifted them above your head. The boy then moved his head between your knees, planting a kiss on your knee, then on your inner thigh. He peered up at you, your pussy throbbing and yearning for his touch.

“Please, I can’t take it. Touch me,” you begged, your voice timid, scared of the boy between your thighs.

“Say please.”

“Please, please?”

“Good girl.” he purred, lowering his head further, you felt his nose graze your pubic bone.

His lips planted a kiss, then moved down to your folds. A moan instantly escaped your lips, your body churning at the feeling of his lips on your moist folds. Your back arched. You felt his lips move against your core, lapping at your folds. He used his tongue to press against your clit, making you cry out and heave. His arm traveled up to your breast, massaging it as his tongue lapped at your pussy. His nose pressing against you. You squirmed as he used his mouth to suck your clit, sending your eyes to the back of your head. The sensations overstimulate you, leaving you hopeless. You didn’t dare bring your arms down, knowing he wouldn’t react well.

He lifted his head from your heat for a second and peered up at you. “You taste so good, let me show you.”

He raised himself and lowered his lips onto yours. Forcing your mouth open with his, his tongue invading your mouth, forcing you to taste yourself. You moaned in his mouth, completely dumbfounded by the boy.

“Now, open your mouth,” he said, gripping onto your chin. 

You dumbly followed, letting him spit into your mouth. You swallowed without hesitation. 

“Good, you did one thing right,” he remarked, unbuttoning his pants, holding eye contact with you from above. 

He swiftly removed his pants, followed by his shirt. His body was leaner than you’d expected, his muscular frame surprising you. He hauled himself off the bed and lowered his brief, freeing his throbbing penis. You let out a small gasp. He motioned for you to come towards him, you crawled, wrists still tied, and sat on the edge of the bed in front of him. His penis right across from your face. He stared down at you.

“Look what you did to me, fix it up. Now,” he demanded.

You nodded your head as you leaned to lick his penis. You use your lips to latch onto his tip, sucking on it as you let your tongue massage it. He groaned from above you, eyes closed. Your head moving slowly to and from, his dick still in your mouth. Your tongue glided back and forth as you pleasured the boy. He threw his head back as you did everything you could to his dick with your mouth alone, you spat on it frantically as you took his cock deeper into your throat. Gagging on his dick and pushing yourself past your limit.

“Go fucking deeper, you dumb fucking slut. Treat it like you would treat some other guys. Whore.” he demanded, his hand latching onto a chunk of your hair. 

He pushed himself further down your throat, tears rolling down your eyes in return. He pumped your throat like it was your pussy, you gagged on his cock uncontrollably. Your wrists were tied in front of you, helpless as he fucked your throat. He pulled your head back with the chunk of hair. You gasped for a breath of air frantically, tears rolling down your eyes. His open palm landed against your cheek again, causing you to gasp in pain.

“When I tell you to go deeper, I mean it, slut. Aren’t you meant to be smart?” he scoffed, looking down at your frail frame. “You spent years trying to get under my fucking skin, now I’m on yours, and you don’t know how to act? Say thank you.”

“Thank you, Daddy, thank you.” you whimpered, sniffling as he shot you a smile.

“There you go, pretty girl. Turn over for me now.” 

You nodded dumbly, turning around on the edge of the bed. You used your elbows for support as you perked your backside up. The boy stared at you hungrily. You felt a slap land on your cheek again, causing you to flinch in pain. 

“You wanna feel me?” 

He watched your head bop and down in response. Within no time he prepped himself at your entrance, slowly pushing into you. You groaned into the mattress, feeling his large cock stretch your pussy. 

“Little Miss Capitol is tight, isn’t she?” he sneered.

He slowly pushed himself in, then out. You groaned as his pace picked up excruciatingly slow, every thrust filling you up. His dick stretched your walls, every bit of your pussy was filled with his cock. He gripped your hip and leaned forward, using his free hand to push your wrists further from you.

His pace quickened. His cock slung in and out of you, moaning as he slapped your ass. You didn’t flinch, distracted by the feeling of his cock. Your moans grew louder as he quickened his pace, hitting a spot within you that hadn’t known of until now. Your body quivered as you felt the boy fuck you with all his strength.

You felt his arm wrap around your throat, pulling you up and restraining your breathing. You gasped, his pace not slowing. You felt his chest against your back as he thrusts into you mercilessly. His free hand slithers to your clit, rubbing it in a circular motion. You felt your muscles wear as he continued to push into you, overstimulated beyond comprehension.

Your stomach tightened as you came, and you shrieked. Your entire body loses its balance, flailing forward on your chest. Coriolanus didn’t stop. He continued to thrust into you, your body limp in front of him. You moaned into the mattress as he fucked you whilst his hand circulated your clit. 

“I came, Coriolanus, I came!”

“I know, shut up.”

He ignored your words. Your body tightened again, this time your juices threatened to squirt out. You fought every bone in your body to not let it out. His finger still rubbing your clit as he pushed into you. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum again. I can’t, it hurts!”

“Yes, you can, you can.” He breathed from behind you.

You cried out, shamefully squirting on your bedsheets. The boy pulled his cock out and frantically massaged it until his semen shot on your back. He heaved from behind you.

“Now, you are just like the rest of the girls. I’ll see you on Monday, doll.”

—

pt2 published…. read here.

[shakethediseeas]

A mother-type yn in alien stage who's very gentle with every human even if they're a weird(?) (It's luka) in a scenario where they sacrifice themself for the other (very original in alst i know) would be very !!! If they have some kind of lullaby they used to sings for everyone that they hum a tune of it in their last breath, smiling.

ALST CHARACTERS WITH A PARENT-FRIEND READER

You just always had to put others before yourself, huh?

I mean, knowing you, it shouldn't have been a surprise; they should have seen this coming.

But now seeing it happen, you, lifeless on the floor... It's hard to forget. The caring smile on your face, even though you knew you were going to die, you don't care as long as they're safe.

You were the oldest of them all so naturally without even knowing, you cared for them as if they were your family.

You'd teach Mizi, Till and Sua how to make some arts and crafts while watching over Luka who was running from Hyuna.

"Luka... careful! dont pull her!" you softly scold.

It was easy for you to grow on them because they didn't really have parental figures, you were the best moment of their lives.

It took you a while to grow on Ivan, though. After you did, he would always hold your hand, watching the rest with a blank face while you continued talking to him about anything.

Every night, when one of them struggled to fall asleep, you'd make them all gather around in a circle while you sang to them; this time, it was Till who couldn't sleep, so he got to rest his head on your lap while you caressed his head. It always worked.

You'd do anything for them, that much was obvious. When one of them was in trouble you'd go to hell and back just for their sake. You fought for Till. You almost lost your life helping Ivan with Till so they could escape...

You didn't say a word after they came back.

Hyuna would always try to impress you, give you gifts and try to act cool around you, you'd laugh and go along with it. She admires you a lot, you're so composed in any situation and you rush into danger just for the people you care about. She wants to be like that.

Luka... He was...

There is no real way to describe him. He's very smart, but he's quiet and dissociates a lot. You're always there to comfort him and sing softly to him while he hugs you mindlessly.

You had given him a small puzzle for you and him to solve, you went away for a minute and it was already completed. So , you always made more challenging ones everytime. He really appreciated that.

For till , you got him a guitar made of whatever you could, you'd tune it for him and hed smile with beaming eyes at you and always showed you the songs he'd write.

When you got older, you were forced to participate before them, and in your second tournament, you were forced to go up against...

At first, they almost downright refused to participate in the round. upset but they didn't show it. Hesitation as they sing and angry when they see you don't even bother to try.

their eyes widen when you go to sing the sweet melody you played for them, legs weak and they stutter out the lyrics.

You give them a bright smile before everything goes black.

They promised you that they would survive just for you.

[marypaol]

Fingers Through Your Hair

Draco x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader plays with Draco’s hair while he sleeps.

Warnings: Watching/touching/admiring someone while they sleep? Mention of suspense while reading a book, tenseness during slumber, mention of being trapped, think that’s it. :)

Sorry if it’s too short, I kinda rushed it. Hope you guys enjoy!

Masterlist

Request Requirements

The stack of pages was held in her hands, twinkling eyes scanning the pages as her mind took in the exciting story. Pale fingers was tracing mindless shapes on the skin of her arm, the pace changing every minute or so.

The climax was just on the verge of happening, eyeballs practically skipping over sentences as she died to know what happened next. The face to face encounter of the protagonist and the antagonist was too great, her brain wiring at the information being sprayed at her. Her stomach twisted, eyes danced, and she could feel sweat building on her head. Her eyes widened, the story revealing a secret that she couldn’t bear to face or figure out. Or, that’s what some people would think. She of course hadn’t had any trouble figuring the secrets of the book, digging through the clues that were dropped casually throughout the story and putting them together to make a puzzle picture that was just discovered to most readers. (But not to her of course. She already figured it all out.)

For the reason of her eyes widening was the fact that she got it correct, her assumptions and theories she gathered turned out to be right the whole time.

She found herself lost in the pages that the book had to offer, truly getting sucked in the imaginary world the author created for entertainment.

But wouldn’t it be lovely and truly divine, she thought, setting the book down once she finished it. If the world that was so imaginative and fictional was real?

She sighed at the thought, picturing herself trapped in a tower in a dark abandoned land, looking hopelessly out the window for her lover to arrive and successfully rescue her.

For she knew who would come and serve her right. He would be the only person who would, not that others wouldn’t try only to face him.

But platinum hair was best suited for her, for she wouldn’t have any other interests but he.

Thinking of him now, she just then discovered that his fingers halted their movements not too long before, and her mind couldn’t help but wonder what the purpose was.

She looked over at her love, only to find him in soft gentle slumber, eyelashes tangled together as his pillow lips parted for a quiet breath.

She smiled soft, hand reaching over to cover him more with the blanket he had himself wrapped in, only for it to previously roll down his shoulders.

She then laid down softly next to him, her elbow holding her up as she used the same arm to place it near his head, almost like she was protecting him.

The face of her love was closer to her, so she now noticed the soft crease in his eyebrows, along sided with the visible tenseness on his shoulders. She shook her head softly, for that simply couldn’t do, and so she pointed out her pinky finger and reached for his forehead. Her finger practically brushed his skin, in between his eyebrows, stroking the crease away as she watch a sense of peace come over him, his eyebrows raising in a calming manner.

She smiled then, knowing he was peaceful now because of her doing.

She then lent forward, lips puckering as she pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, fingers uncontrollably going to his hair strands. His hair was very soft, and how he kept it that she didn’t know, but that was his secret to keep because she simply liked wondering how he did it. Once her fingers reached a soft knot in his strands, most likely from his hands digging into his hair anxiously throughout the day, she was worried if she undid it with her fingers it would wake him up, so she carefully grabbed her wand, wood smooth beneath her finger tips.

She pointed the tip to his hair, whispering soft Charms as she watched the strands undo themselves. She smiled soft, putting her wand away as it was now long forgotten, her mind swarming with thoughts of her lover.

She sighed contently, fingers brushing through his hair slowly.

A intake of breath was heard, forcing her attention to his soft face. It scrunched up for a second, eyes fluttering as his silver eyes opened. He blinked a couple times, moonlight reflecting in his pupils making his orbs sparkle. He felt the touch in his hair, the extra blanket covering him, and his eyes met hers.

His lips curved into a soft smile, left hand reaching for her as it soon rested on her thigh, stroking the skin through the fabric.

“Hey, loves.” His voice was groggy and deep, but she liked it. She replied with a smile, fingers moving in his hair once again.

A sigh escaped his lips, head turning to rest near her chest, chasing for warmth. She kissed his forehead once again, mouth leaning towards his ear. The skin was warm on her lips as she whispered the truth. “I love you.”

She felt his lips stretch into a soft smile against her clothes, so she smiled too. His smile always made her smile, despite if she could see it or not.

“Oh but I love you most.” He mumbled into her shirt, voice muffled but she heard him all too well.

A flush came about her cheeks, traveling to her ears.

“Doubt it.” She replied, despite her red face.

Draco answered with a hum. Either he didn’t hear her, or did and chose to ignore it.

“You smell good loves; new shampoo perhaps?”

“Draco, I’ve been using this shampoo since First Year.”

Draco hummed again, snuggling his face into her neck. She heard him sniff as he smelled her hair again. “Mm? First Year? I should smell your hair more often loves.”

The girl rolled her eyes, stroking the hair on the back of his neck. She kissed it, keeping her mouth pressed there as her nose touched his warm skin.

“Ahh. This feels nice.” Draco murmured. She then felt him smirk into her neck. “What do you say we do this more often?”

[mikashisus]

the trickster and the sun

SYNOPSIS: kinich was fast in everything he did, but with you, he felt as if time always moved slow.

PAIRING: child of hermes!kinich x gn!child of apollo!reader

TAGLIST ! @wystiix @pneumosia @pixelcafe-network

warnings: none

word count: 749

notes: another pjo au!! i think im going to make this a mini series. this is a little smth to set up a longer oneshot i have planned for sometime in the future, tho the mc of that one will be a child of ares ;) also, this can be interpreted as platonic, it's up to u guys!

Kinich was fast. 

Sometimes, he was so fast that you couldn’t keep up. Not only was he ahead of the game when it came to tricks and locks, but he was also a supersonic runner. No one in camp could ever keep up with him, not even his siblings. 

He liked to leave you puzzles. Not the kind of puzzles and mind games Athena’s children would give out, but lock puzzles. He’d sneak them into your bag or pockets when you could’ve sworn it wasn’t there moments ago. You’d spend the entire afternoon figuring them out, twisting and turning the handmade puzzles and trying to break them apart. 

Eventually, you’d throw your hands up in frustration and dispose of the device, stalking off to the target range to vent your anger out. 

As a child of Hermes, Kinich was exceptionally playful and mischievous, but it wasn’t as obvious as it was with his siblings. His trickster side truly came to the surface through his actions and the small glint in his eyes every time he talked to you. 

There was one time he had stolen your prized golden bow, gifted to you by your father, right under your nose. You had turned around for a split second, and the weapon was no longer hanging on the wall near your bed, but tucked underneath his in the Hermes cabin. You had looked high and low for it, even checking the target range to make sure you hadn’t accidentally left it there. 

Clueless to his act of theft, you began to panic and wonder if your father would kill you for losing something so precious. As soon as you began to pace around and ramble about the consequences, Kinich’s guilt overcame him and he summoned the bow back from its hiding place. 

The scolding he received after was greater than any other time you yelled at him for his conniving tricks. The look in your eyes moments before convinced him to never steal anything precious of yours again, for fear of seeing that same exact expression on your face. 

Aside from his tricks and theatrics, Kinich was a messenger like his father. He loved to travel and take on odd jobs not only in camp but around the world too. And with his speed, he was back to camp in less than a few minutes of taking on a job. It was almost as if he had teleported there and back. 

He was truly a jack of all trades, but he could never best you at archery; for that was something you were naturally skilled at as a child of Apollo. He could never best you at shining brightly like the sun, either. 

In every aspect, you outshone him. Like now, when you were guiding new campers to their cabin (per your request and Chiron’s surprise). 

Everyone knew you to be quite outgoing and cheerful, with a smile so blindingly bright it resembled your father’s, and an aura about you that felt warm and fuzzy on his skin– as if he was sitting in the sun. 

As you spotted your best friend, you waved enthusiastically and called out to him, making a beeline for where he was standing just outside the Hephaestus cabin. With an eager voice, you introduced him to the campers. 

It seemed as if there had been many newcomers recently, and with newcomers meant there would likely be new occupants to the Hermes cabin. The Hermes cabin was lively and packed all the time. He was lucky if he even got a moment of silence during the day. That, or some space. 

Though, he preferred to just go elsewhere and take a moment to breathe. Like, finding you in the solace of Apollo’s cabin or heading out to the target range to watch you practice. If you were sitting on your bed reading a book, he’d flip the pages to get your attention or steal one of the highlighters in your hand. If you were practicing in the target range, he’d take your arrows and your quiver and misplace them so you’d focus on him. 

Kinich was a trickster. 

And oftentimes, you couldn’t keep up with his tricks, much like you could never beat him in a race. He was annoying in an endearing way, always stealing your things to gain your attention and showing off his speed in races to prove himself to you. 

He was playful and witty, but above all, he was your best friend.

notes: like i said, i have another kinich wip planned but the mc will be a child of ares and im very excited to write it :D it's gonna be much longer than this one too! maybe as long as the tartag pjo au fic i wrote a bit ago, we’ll see!

© 2024 mikashisus. do not plagiarize, copy, repost, feed to ai, or translate my works to any other platforms.

[23starii]

Pleasant Surprise - tendo x reader

Summary: He's used to girls trying to get through him to get to Ushiwaka. He knows no girl actually wants to be with him or get to know him. None of the gifts he receives are ever actually for him. Until you approach him one day after practice.

Warnings/notes: insecurity, speculation, rudeness, but, tbh not that much, short reader (shorter than Tendo). Chat I literally wrote all of day two and left to find a divider AND TURNS OUT EVERYTHING DELETED SO I HAD TO REWRITE THE WHOLE THING 😆😆😆😆😆

Day one

Practice was finally over.

Tendo loved it. It was another good day for him and the team.

What he didn't quite loves was-

"E-excuse me?" A tiny feminine voice to his left.

"Can I help you?" He answered, almost rudely. He knew what was to come, especially with the way you held the small, neatly wrapped gift box in between your hands.

"I'm really sorry to bother you, Tendo.." You began, shyly looking up at the taller male.

Tendo almost rolled his eyes. He wanted to just tell you to go away. He couldn't take it anymore. He just wanted to go home, but here you were, a cute girl saying his name with the sweetest voice trying to use him to get to his buddy.

It would be nice not to be looked over for once. Not only was it annoying to have to go through this nearly every day but painful, too. You were so cute and pretty. He recalled seeing you around and watching their practice several times.

"I made this for you. I was wondering if you'd accept it?" The girl brought her arms up higher, showing off the tiny box to the volleyball player.

"Listen-" Tendo almost answered in his usual way, telling girls to just go away because Ushiwaka didn't want their gifts anyway but then he realized what you said.

A gift for him? This was new. You wanted to earn his trust and get close to him just so he could introduce you to Ushiwaka. Didn't you?

Figures.

"U-um, you don't have to.. if you don't want to." You spoke up after Tendo was quiet for some time, thinking.

"Is it for me?" He wondered.

"Yes! It's for you! I made this just for you, Tendo."

Before he could say anything, you decided to keep speaking your mind, making sure he understood the extent of your purpose for being in front of him today.

"I've been coming to watch you practice for some time now.. you're amazing. You're so tall and a great blocker! I can tell you enjoy playing the game very much.. you always have a smile on your face when you play. And I enjoy watching you..very much as well."

Tendo was stunned, to say the least. You spoke without even looking at him. What you said didn't sound rehearsed or bogusly put together.

He wasn't sure what to say or do. He didn't know if he was convinced either.

"I took the time to learn that you really like chocolate too.. so that's why I made it for you. It took me a while to get the recipe right, but I did it just for you.. so I would really appreciate it if you could accept my hard work." You stared at the floor, face flushed and embarrassed, arms stretched out. You couldn't believe you poured nearly your whole heart out to him when he hadn't even said more than one word to you.

"Um.. okay. Thank you very much. I'll make sure to have these later." Tendo took the small box from your pretty hands. He had never been in a situation like this before - he hoped his answer wasn't too blunt or that he made you feel dumb for being here.

"Please! Let me know if you like them! Or if you dont.. I'd be very happy to make more for you!" You bowed quickly before speeding off in the opposite direction, cheeks burning.

You really hopped you hadn't said too much.

Tendo watched you walk away, cocking his head slightly to the his right, puzzled.

Could it be that you really did make it for him because you wanted to give it to him?

Could it be true that you really had been watching him and not Ushiwaka?

"Damn. That girl was really nervous." He hears Semi from his left speak.

"Aw man! You're so lucky, Tendo! She was cute.." Goshiki gushes from his right.

"Yeah, she was.."

Day two

The next day, Tendo walked the halls with the knowledge that somewhere in the same building, there was a girl who made the best chocolates he's ever had.

He hardly thought of anything else since he popped one of the treats into his mouth the night prior. He couldn't believe something so delicious could be made. And just for him nonetheless.

He hoped your words were truthful. He hoped he would see you again that afternoon so he could thank you.

Tendo made his way toward the gym, where he would be partaking in the usual practice routine.

When he arrived and was fully changed into his gym clothes, he made sure to warm up with his teammates.

He stretched and received a few balls, making sure to keep an eye out for you.

The redhead made sure to glance over at the students' section every so often.

Tendo was quite disillusioned to find you nowhere to be seen.

An hour into practice, he figured you just weren't coming. He had been tricked, hadn't he.

Oh well.

There's no way a girl like you would seriously be into him.

He decided to go on as if nothing had happened, as per usual. He continued giving it his all during practice as was expected from him.

.

.

.

Tendo exited the changing room, having his regular school uniform on now. He could hear his younger teammates messing about in the room behind him while he bent down low, grabbing his shows and placing them in front of himself.

"Tendo." He hears the firm, stoic voice of his best buddy call out.

"Hey! Wakaaa!" The lankier boy teased with the nickname, looking off in Ushijima's direction whilst putting his left shoe on.

"There was a girl looking for you." The barely taller male spoke.

"A girl?" Tendo repeated, moving on to his right shoe.

"I thought she was gonna ask me for my autograph. Instead, she asked me about you." Ushiwaka informed, with his usual straight face.

Tendo straightened up his body, finishing up with his shoes he turned his full attention to his friend.

"Where is she?" The redhead asked, picturing your shaky figure holding out the gift he enjoyed so much.

Ushiwaka shrugged.

"She was outside the gym, last time I saw her."

Tendo thanked his friend and quickly made his way back to the gym, hoping he hadn't missed you.

He was relieved to find you curiously standing about right outside the gym.

"Excuse me?" He spoke, stepping to you.

You quickly turn around to meet the boy, your hair whipping the air from the speed.

"Tendo!" You spoke, surprised.

"I'm shocked, I didn't think I'd see you again or have the chance to thank you for those chocolates." Tendo teased, reffering to your absence earlier.

He watched your face twist into guilt.

"I am only able to see you when my club activities end early. I'm so sorry! Did you like the gift then..?" You ramble, apologetically, your cheeks flushing.

Tendo suddenly found it increasingly difficult to hide how flattered he is by your presence.

You took the time to come see him after your own club activities and even asked Ushiwaka about him. And the way you messed with your uniform nervously as you spoke was adorable in his eyes.

"Like it? I loved it!! I've never had anything so good before." His face warmed up.

"Really?? It was a family recipe.. I barely learned it, so I'm glad you enjoyed them!" You gave another sweet smile, almost as sweet as the treats the boy had last night.

"You'll have to teach me that recipe some time, cause seriously, I've never had anything like that before!" He gushed, hoping he didn't sound too enthusiastic.

You blush at his compliments.

"So.. do you enjoy making sweets too, Tendo?" You wonder, hoping the two of you might find something in common, it would be beneficial to keep the conversation going which you hoped would happen.

"Actually, I've never baked or anything like that. But, if it's possible to make something that good, I'd like to learn it."

You were happy that he took such interest in you. You honestly hadn't expected it. You were just some girl after all. It warmed your heart and the tips of your ears.

"By the way, you were looking for me? Ushiwaka told me."

Again, your cheeks flushed and you stiffened up.

"Well, I wanted to see you! I am a fan of yours, you know!" You laughed awkwardly admitting you truly did just want to see him.

Tendo's cheeks warmed further equal to yours now.

You wanted to see him? His fan? A pretty girl?

Could words be ever more flattering? Could you make him any more embarrassed? He seriously couldn't believe it.

You really called yourself his fan.

"Oh, wow. I didn't know I had such a beautiful fan." He sputtered, relieved that he hadn't stuttered. He almost missed your expression after those words.

Your face dropped, and he could see the visible pink hue that coated your pretty cheeks.

"I-Well, you know, I mean.. you're awesome and like also super! And beautiful.. too.." Your eyes widened from your own words. How could one stumble over themselves so damn much?

You internally beat the shit out of yourself. There's no way you didn't totally just blow it.

You almost missed how his eyes widened, too, and he blushed. Tendo looked as if you could eat him right up right then and there.

"Jeez.. you really came here just to flatter me." Tendo couldn't ignore the fact that no one had ever called him beautiful before. You were the first. And damn, it was a really nice feeling.

He couldn't believe it. This had to be a dream.

You couldn't really reply after how badly you stuttered you were surely traumatized from the embarrassment.

"So, how about that recipe?"

The boy eased your nerves by not turning away or insinuating that he disliked you. He wouldn't anyway. No way in a million years would he walk away.

You smiled, taking a deep breath to calm yourself before continuing the conversation.

You gave him a social media account of your choosing so he could contact you.

Tendo asked about your club, and the two of you spoke of your many interests. He even walked with you to your bus stop.

You found that the two of you didn't have much in common, but his interest in your hobby of baking and making sweets just might change that.

It might even create a duo of married chocolatiers.

✧˖*°࿐

[spotsspeciall]

Factory meetings - LN4

vol. 2

Lando Norris x fem!reader

summary: Lando makes a move to Red Bull for 2024 and you work in the Red Bull factory. You meet him, and he’s a dick. But something inside you, needs him. 

Notes: Shoutout to @f1goat and the “His teammate” series, for the inspiration!!  Fair warning, I'm talking alittle shit about McLaren, but I am a McLaren girly and It’s all lies, I mean nothing by it! I also made up some gibberish about the car, since I don’t know how everything really works haha. This was also longer than I expected, but I can honestly say I'm pretty proud of it.

warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI. smut, unprotected (wrap it before you tap it folks!) p in v, pet names, language.

word count: 7.3k

masterlist

You had been working at the Red Bull factory in Milton Keynes for 2 years. After getting your degree in mechanical engineering, you grabbed the first opening in Red Bull. And now you had built your way up to your current position. 

You were sitting on the chair, staring at the little metal pieces in front of you. Trying to figure out the best way to puzzle them together, and make the most out of the car.

Your job was to plan, and build components in the car. And when you gained your current position at the factory, you helped with the success of the RB19. 

Working in the factory, you rarely met the drivers. They were here a lot for the simulator and meetings, but your paths rarely crossed. You didn’t need to have contact with the drivers, so you didn’t. Only seeing them from afar, when the whole factory came together for a meeting.

Monday morning, just over a week since the last race in Abu-dhabi, the RB19 had been a huge success. And you were working hard to finish the last details on the RB20 before the new season, working even harder than you did on the RB19. Trying to make the RB20 even better, as impossible as that sounds. 

You had a goodbye party for Checo on Friday, as he was retiring. And Christian Horner had announced that Lando Norris was taking his seat.

You had never met Lando, only seen him when you watched the races. And from what you had heard about him, he was kind of a dick. 

You and the other women working for Red Bull had formed a strong bond, you and the Red Bull media girl, Sophie, were basically best friends. And since she was on the track every race weekend, she had some encounters with Lando. 

She said he was constantly grumpy. He only cared about racing, and the fact that he hadn’t had a win yet, already being in McLaren for 5 years, it started taking a toll on him. 

He used to be a kind and sweet person. Loving to chat to people, and loving the interaction with his fans. He was just an all around loving guy. But when his fist win never came, and 

The McLaren car never got faster. He turned mean and angry, and stopped caring about anything other than racing. And when Christian gave him a nice offer to fill Checo’s seat, he jumped on it, no hesitation. 

You picked up your tools and started assembling the pieces again, to see if your mind had any ideas. 

You had your normal shitty Monday morning, and you didn’t have time to properly get ready. So you were sitting here in the Red Bull work clothes, your hair was up, but it had fallen out of your bun and was falling in your face, and you kept trying to pull it behind your ears. You didn’t have time for either makeup or to put your contacts in, so it was glasses today. But it wasn’t that bad, everyone saw you like this every Monday (and most other days too)

But what you didn’t know was that Lando was visiting the Factory today. To have a tour of the factory, and meet everyone working there. You didn’t hear the door open as you were staring a whole into the piece you just assembled. But you did hear your name being called. 

You turned around and met the eyes of Christian, but your eyes quickly looked over at the man standing beside him. You hurried to stand up and rip the gloves off your hands. Stretching out your hand to shake his. It seemed like he hesitated for a bit before shaking it, staring into your eyes the whole time. 

“I’m Y/N, nice to meet you”

“Lando”

Yeah, he seemed pretty grumpy. 

As you pulled your hand away, Christian started explaining who you were, and what your job was. You didn’t know if Lando was even listening because he was still just staring at you. 

Christian then turned to you and asked you how the work was going. 

“Oh yeah!” You were blocking their view of the piece, so you turned to walk around the table to show them. 

You started explaining what the piece was and what your goal for it was, as you put on a new pair of gloves to show them the piece. 

Putting it back down, Lando looked back at you. A small smile had made its way to his lips. 

“Is that going in my car?”

“Well yeah, it’s going in both cars”

“But, I’ll only drive the car if you’re the one working on it” He was now smirking at you and turned to Christian. “I’m serious” His smirk was gone.

“Don’t worry Lando, I’ll make sure of it” He said with a smile as he patted his shoulder. “We should move on to look at the paint booths” 

As they headed towards the door, Lando turned around before he left. His face was unreadable, and he had a look in his eyes you had never seen. You had never been more confused, and it took you a while to get back into the right headspace for you to finally crack the code.

There were only a few days left before Christmas break, and you hadn’t seen Lando since that first time. 

Today had been a stressful day as you tried to do as much as you could in the little time you had left. You were standing in front of the computer, looking at the readings from a recent test, and there were a few numbers off. The frustration got to you, and you pulled off your glasses, rubbing the bride of your nose. Before you shoved the keyboard away and buried your face in your arms on the desk as you groaned in frustration. 

Lando had one last visit to the simulator before break. And before he left for the day, he decided to see if you were there. He was mesmerized by you when he first saw you. Your hair was falling in your face, and the glasses framed your face perfectly. He noticed that you had no makeup on, but you were absolutely breathtaking. And when you started talking about your work, he saw the passion in your eyes. He felt a small pull in his chest, and felt like his old happy self for just a moment when he looked at you. 

But it quickly disappeared, and he realized his new mission. He needed to have you. 

When he opened the door, he heard a groan as he saw your face land in your arms on the desk. The desk was quite high, and as you were bent over it, your ass was on display for him. 

He had to fight himself to not go right over and touch you. But he still walked over and leaned on the desk beside you.

“Something wrong baby?”

You quickly looked up, shocked that someone was in the room with you, and why were they calling you “baby”?

When you met Lando’s eyes, you rolled your own. You had already made up your mind about him, and you were not surprised he was acting like this. 

You heard a low chuckle coming from him as he saw you rolling your eyes. 

You leaned closer to him, really close. He could feel your breath.

“Don’t call me baby”

You could see he was a little shocked at the closeness, so you smirked to yourself and stretched your hand out to grab your glasses that had landed beside him. 

Leaning back, you put your glasses on. “And if you must know, I didn’t get the result I wanted” 

You pointed to the numbers on the screen. His mouth was slightly open as he still looked a little shocked, but he turned his head to look at the numbers. 

“I don’t know what any of the numbers mean” He turned to look at you.

You laughed before replying “Yeah, I know” 

After closing your front door and throwing yourself on the couch. You pulled up your phone and sent a text to your best friend Sophie. 

“Lando came by the Factory today and called me baby…”

She answered right away.

"BRO!"

“No way!”

“He’s probably trying to get in your pants”

“WHAT?”

“NO HE IS NOT”

“He’s probably just trying to get a reaction out of me”

“Why would he want to get in my pants when he has models drooling over him?”

“Stop it Y/N”

“You are literally drop dead gorgeous.”

“Lando wishes he could get you! But don’t let him use you like that!”

“hahahaha”

“You’re the best Sophie”

“But yeah, he will not be getting anywhere near these sexy pants!”

“YEAHHHH GIRL”

“go piss girl”

“hahaha”

Closing your phone, you laughed to yourself. And when you laid down in bed, and closed your eyes. You couldn’t help when your sleepy brain started thinking about him. 

You looked down. Seeing your naked body, tits jumping at the movement you were making. You saw your hands spread out on the lower abdomen of the man under you. You saw his hands groping your thighs, hips, tits. And when one of his hands traveled up to grab your jaw, you met his eyes. Lando. 

Waking up, you sat up in bed, hand flying to your jaw.

As your breathing calmed down, you realized the dream. Running the images through your head over and over again. And that's when you noticed just how turned on you were. Your panties totally soaked, and you felt hot.

Landing back in bed you groaned.

“Fuck you brain. That was so fucked up”

You rubbed your hands over your face before getting out of bed. Just a few more days of work before break. 

Your brain had sneaked in thoughts about Lando all through the break, much to your dismay. And he always showed up when you were close to an orgasm by your own hand. And one time, his name slipped out in a whisper. But you would try to deny yourself that it ever happened. 

And when it was time to go back to work, you felt like it had been long enough for you to forget everything, just praying you didn’t have to see him for a while.

And you were lucky for once. The end of January was nearing, and you had yet to see him. But you knew it was not long before you would.

The start of February was when the car was launching. And you had worked your ass off to finish the last bits, and the tests and readings were good, great even. 

There would be a reveal of the finished car in the factory, for all employees, before it was going to be a public launch. And you knew reveal day meant Lando. But you would be fine, all of the employees would be there, no way you would have any contact with him. 

And when the day finally arrived you were excited. The RB20 was going to be revealed, a car you helped make, and that was all you could focus on. 

You and Sophie were standing together up at the front of the crowd, looking at the car covered in a protective sheet. Christian got up beside the car and started his speech, and then he reached the moment where he introduced the two drivers for the team. Max Verstappen, the reigning world champion, and the new Lando Norris.

As he walked up beside the car, he was dressed in the Red Bull racing suit, and you couldn’t help but admire him in it. It wasn’t wrong to think the man looked good, incredibly good. You knew he was still an asshole, but you did have eyes. 

Max had his speech, and then it was Lando’s turn. It was a good speech, talking about how he was ready for something new, a more competitive car. He then started thanking the people working on the car, and he locked eyes with you, and held it until he was finished speaking. 

Lando and Max then lifted the sheet off the car to reveal it. And the crowd started clapping. You marveled at the car for a minute, feeling proud. But you felt his eyes on you. So you looked back at him, and you saw that stupid smirk on his face, he then had the audacity to give you a wink. You rolled your eyes at him, and when you looked back at him, he had a genuine smile on his face, and a glint in his eyes. And for just a moment, butterflies fluttered in your stomach, before you were interrupted with Christian speaking again.

You were standing in front of the car, looking down at it in admiration. The “party” had been moved to a different room, where food and drinks were served. And when you found a quiet moment, you slipped away to go look at the car. 

You were all alone as you squatted down to get a better look at the car, and the details of it. You couldn’t believe you had a hand in building it. This was Max’s car, with the big, red number 1 on it.

Standing back up, you felt a hand slide its way to your lower back. Shocked, you turned to look at the person beside you. Of course. Lando. 

He had that typical smirk on his face as he spoke to you in a low tone. 

“Hope you did a lot of work on my car too” “I was serious when I said I will only drive it if you have”

You rolled your eyes again, it was something he really brought out of you. 

“I have!” You put on some fake excitement in your tone. “I even put a little extra work into your car” You gave him a suggestive wink.

“Oh, so my car might be a little faster?” He said in a hushed tone, like you were sharing a secret. 

“Yeah” You nodded at him, and pointed to the car in front of you. “This is your car right?”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “No, this is Max’s”

“Oh shit, guess I put it in the wrong car then” You shrugged your shoulders as you couldn’t hold your laughter anymore. 

You turned to walk away, leaving the hold he still had on your lower back. The place where his hand had been was burning hot. And when he saw you taking quick steps to get away, he hurried to follow after you. 

“Baby, that was not nice” He said with a small pout as he finally caught up with you. 

You stopped in your tracks. “I told you to stop calling me that” 

“Oh you look cute when you’re angry” His amusement was clear on his face. 

If you weren’t angry before, you sure were now. You groaned as you started walking away from him again. And before you entered the door to the party, he shouted to you.

“Can’t wait to see you again soon baby!” You could hear the grin on his face. But you just opened the door and walked inside, hoping to not see him for the rest of the night.

Just a week after, you were back at work, looking over some data on the computer, when you heard a knock at the door, and then it opened and closed. 

Turning around, you were met with Christian. “Oh hey Christian!” “Wasn't expecting you to be here!”

He smiled at you, “I am here to ask if you’re free to have a meeting in my office?”

“Right now?”

He looked down at the expensive watch around his wrist. “Yes”

“Um, yeah sure!” “I’m just going to-” You trailed off as you pressed a few buttons on the computer, before turning it off and walking towards Christian. “Shall we?”

Sitting down in the chair opposite his desk, it all started to become a little intimidating. You waited for him to speak as he looked at a few papers, before lifting his head and meeting your eyes. 

“Y/N” “First, I want to formally thank you for your work on the RB19. You made the car what it was. Great work” “And I also want to thank you for the work you’ve put into the RB20. I know it will be even better than the 19” He smiled at you, and you smiled back as you nodded, silently thanking him for his words. 

He continued, “I have been talking with Lando Norris, and after he had a test in the car, and felt how it worked. And after he also saw how you worked on it, he has asked for you to be his no.1 mechanic.” He paused, waiting for your response.

“No.1 mechanic? as in, at every race, in the garage, being the head mechanic on his car?” You were shocked, confused.

“Yes.” He gave you a warm smile. “When he suggested it, I totally agreed.” “It would be a perfect job for you, and with all the work you have put in, the least I can do for you is to give you a chance to be with the car at every race.” “So, do you want the job?”

You didn’t even think about the fact that Lando was the one to suggest the job for you. You just focused on the fact that you could be the no.1 mechanic. 

“Yes” “Yes I do.” A big smile grew on your face.

“Perfect!” Christian clapped his hands together, and picked up the papers he previously looked at. “Take the time you need to read through them before signing” 

Taking the papers in your hands, you read through it. And everything looked perfect. So you signed where you needed to. And handed the papers back to Christian. 

“Thank you so much for this opportunity!” “I can’t wait to get started” You couldn’t stop smiling.

“Good!” “Can’t wait to see you on the track”

He then told you the plan heading forwards. You had plenty of meetings coming up. You needed to know what to expect in the garage. And you had a few meetings with the people working in the garage. And after all of that was finished, you were headed to the pre-season testing in Bahrain. 

Arriving in Bahrain, you felt prepared. And you were even more happy to finally join Sophie at work, as you walked into the garage together. 

Testing had been going pretty great so far, you only needed to do a few tweaks on the car to see if the performance was different. 

On the other end, Lando had been tolerable. He had his usual flirty, teasing persona around you. But now that you worked together in a small garage, he had toned it down a bit, much to your pleasure. 

But when you got a moment alone, he always sneaked up on you and rested his hand on your lower back, called you baby, and did everything to annoy you. Much to your frustration.

You had been single for a few years. And you hadn’t slept with too many people after. But now it had been a really long time since last. Too busy at work to even care, but you were growing more and more pent up and frustrated. And this asshole resting his hand on your lower back was not helping. It was also not helping that he looked drool worthy all the time.

What was helping, was the fact that he was just that, an asshole. But you had no excuse for yourself when you were alone at night, and you just stopped caring. It made you cum fast, and you were happy with that. So you kept thinking about him every time, while whispering his name under your breath. 

It was the fourth race of the season, and you were in Japan. The previous races were good to Lando, who had gotten a podium on each one, but no win yet. But he was good in Japan, he knew this could be the one.

It was early on Thursday, and when Lando walked into the garage, he found you working on the car, alone. 

You were so focused as you lay bent over the nose of the car, trying to screw something that was in a tricky position. When Lando saw the sight of you like that, bent over, legs spread, he felt his dick twitch. 

He quickly turned his head to look around for the sign of any people, seeing no one, he walked up to you, close enough so your feet were almost touching. Looking down at you, he noticed you still didn’t know he was there, so he cleared his throat to get your attention. 

When you heard the sound, it spooked you, and you went to stand up from the compromising position you were in. But you didn’t know someone was standing right behind you. So when you lifted yourself off the car, your ass hit something, someone. You felt a pair of strong hands grab onto your hips to stabilize the both of you, as your back was now flush against his chest. When you looked down at his hands, you saw his watch and bracelets and immediately knew who it was. 

You heard a low groan coming from him, right by your ear. And you felt a bulge grow right where your ass was resting against his crotch. You panicked, and shoved yourself back to knock his balance off so he would get off you. When he did, you turned around to look at him with anger in your eyes.

“What the fuck was that Norris!?”

You didn’t even let him answer before you turned to storm out. Two reasons why. First, you were flustered and could feel your face heat up, and you did not want him to see that. Second, feeling his hands hold your waist, and the bulge grow in his pants, you were already soaked and horny beyond belief, and you did not want to be around him in a state like that. 

Lando stood there, a little shocked, and flustered. He pulled his hoodie down to try and cover up the bulge in his pants, as he headed towards his driver room.

It was time for a car check. And you were picking up the steering wheel to put it in the car. When you turned back around to go over to the car, you saw him.

Lando was standing in his seat, and you watched him lower himself into the seat, holding onto the halo with a tight grip.

You almost dropped the steering wheel in your hand, as your eyes focused on his hands. You had to literally shake your head to get back to the right headspace.

You walked over to the car, and looked down at Lando looking around the cockpit, trying to get in a comfortable position. After he found it, he looked up and his eyes met yours.

His eyes were shining from the lighting on the ceiling. And the feeling that arose was butterflies hidden by anger. Why the fuck was he so breathtaking, but also such a dick. Fuck him. 

You clenched your jaw as you kept eye contact with him. 

“You gonna hand me the steering wheel love?” There was that stupid smirk again.

You narrowed your eyes at him in anger, and handed him the wheel. He clicked it in place, and looked back up at you and told you something he wanted changed on the car. 

Luckily for you, when he started talking about the car, you went straight into work mode. Not a single thought about Lando in your brain. (Only far in the back)

He pointed to show you something that was underneath the steering wheel, right over where his legs rested. And you couldn’t see it. So you stepped farther towards the back of the car, to see it more from his angle. You grabbed a stepping stool that was standing close by, and leaned over the halo. You face resting just beside his. 

“What was it again?” You asked him, surprisingly calm, but the working Y/N was in control right now.

He pointed again, and started explaining it. And you stretched a hand out to point to it as well, making sure you understood each other. 

Lando didn’t expect you to get that close. And when you stretched your hand out and got even closer, he turned to look at you.

You felt his hot breath on the side of your face, and you could tell in your peripheral that he was looking at you. So you turned to look at him. Your faces so close that your noses almost touched. 

But somehow, you kept your cool. “I can fix that for you Lando, you just need to get out of the car.” You smiled innocently at him as you leaned back and stepped away. 

When he stepped out, you got your tools ready and lowered yourself into the seat, needing to sit there to get the best access.

As you worked away, Lando stood by the side of the car, arms folded against his chest. There was something going on in his body that he couldn’t recognise. He was still feeling the effects of what happened with the two of you earlier. But there was something different there as well.

On Sunday, you found yourself standing in front of the mirror in the public bathroom. It was not long before race start. And you were staring at yourself in the mirror.

You were angry, frustrated and way too fucking horny. Last night, you caved, again. Imagining your fingers were his. You used it as a way of getting the anger out, and it worked. 

But your brain was on overdrive and everything was threatening to boil over. Looking at yourself, you took a deep breath and nodded to yourself, heading back out, ready for work, trying to ignore everything and hoping it would be fine. 

You were sitting on the pit wall, as you watched them line back up on the grid after the formation lap. And Lando lined his car up on P1. Max lined up in P4, unlucky in Q3.

The race start was good, the top 5 drivers staying as is. Lando keeping the lead until halfway in the race, Lando boxed to get new tires. And when he moved his way back up the grid again, you heard his voice coming on the radio.

“Something is wrong.”

“The gears are not working properly”

You turned to Lando’s race engineer sitting to your right. You nodded at him, and he nodded back, a silent exchange you both understood. 

He contacted Lando to tell him he was looking into it, and would update him as fast as possible. 

You looked at as much of the data as you could, as fast as you could. And there you found it. Between all the numbers and graphs, there was one thing off. 

You contacted the race engineer on the radio, and pointed to the mark on the screen. He saw it, and you both knew the solution. Luckily an easy one, as he only needed to press a few buttons on the steering wheel to change modes. 

The race engineer nodded at you again, but this time, in a way that signaled you to tell Lando. So you did.

“Lando, mode 6, and give it 3.8”

“Understood”

“Thanks Y/N”

You felt like you could hear a smile on his face, but probably not. Right?

When you looked back at the data, you saw everything was fine. And not long after, Lando radioed back to say it was good, and he was ready to get back to the chase.

And he did just that, climbing his way back up. Lucky for him, Max had pitted not long after Lando, making Lando ahead of Max in the race. 

You were anxious for the last few laps. He had gotten back into P1, and had made a reasonable gap back to the driver behind him. 

The screams you heard on the radio as he crossed the line first, almost made you deaf for a minute. And you had a big smile on your face as you celebrated with the crew on the pit wall, proud of the car you helped in making. 

You had gotten the car back to the garage after watching the podium. You, and two other mechanics were pulling the protective sheet over the car. You tried to keep your mind focused on the task at hand, but the image of Lando getting champagne poured on him was seared into your brain. But when you were done with everything, thanking the mechanics before you stepped back. You heard someone entering the garage. 

In walked Lando, soaked in champagne and still dressed in his racing suit that was hanging around his hips. When he saw you, he actually smiled. And seeing him like that, you couldn’t help the heat settling in your core.

He almost ran over to you and wrapped his arms around your hips. He lifted you with him in a tight hug, your feet far above the ground, you had to grab onto his shoulders for support. 

“There’s my no.1 mechanic!” 

His voice was muffled as his face was resting directly against your boobs. 

And when you squeezed his shoulders in reaction, he looked up at you as he still held you tight. You couldn’t get any words out. But as he looked up at you, he smiled. A genuine, lovely smile. But something else was shining in his eyes, and his pupils dilated. 

He felt you started to slip out of his arms, so he readjusted his grip. He got a firm hold on your ass, and when you felt it, everything boiled over.

“Let. Me. The Fuck. Down.” “Now.”

The mechanics stood there in confusion until they heard that. They shared a look, and hurried to leave the garage. Avoiding you screaming at Lando.

Lando heard the threatening tone in your voice, and he immediately lowered you to the ground. 

When he stood back to look at you, he opened his mouth to say something. But you were quicker.

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME NORRIS? YOU CAN’T JUST LIFT ME UP LIKE THAT! AND NOT TO MENTION WHAT HAPPENED THURSDAY MORNING! YOU’RE MAKING ME GO CRAZY!” You basically screamed at him, with your finger pointing at him in anger. But you weren’t finished. 

“You’re the one who wanted me to have this job, and you’re usually rude and mean, but then you’re teasing me and acting all flirty?!” “You’re so fucking confusing!” 

Your brain had exploded at his point. Every feeling that had been pent up for so long, finally boiled over. And since everything hit you, you felt yourself grow wetter and wetter by the second. You let out a heavy breath and lifted your hands to hold onto your head in frustration. 

Lando had just taken it all, with his eyebrows lifted in shock. He was making you go crazy? His mind was running, what did you mean? He didn’t know what to do, what to say. But then he saw the small movement you made, and the look on your face. A smirk making its way to his face as his eyes got even darker. 

While in your frustration, your body just acted for you. And as you were standing there, looking anywhere but at him, your face red and hot, your whole body on fire. Your thighs squeezed together for some desperate neediness for something, anything. 

And when that caught Landos eyes, he took two long steps towards you. His arms wrapping around you, the palms of his hands resting on the top of your ass. 

When he was suddenly in front of you, so close. You dropped your hands in shock, and just stared into his eyes, then his lips. They were slightly parted, and you saw the quick moment his tongue darted out to lick his lips. Before you quickly looked back into his eyes, cursing yourself for the moment of weakness. 

When you locked eyes again, his eyes were dark, looking down at you. Lando had no patience left. He shoved your body hard, into himself. You chests touching, and the grip he had on your ass, where he was holding you tight against him, you felt almost every detail of his already growing bulge through his pants. If you weren’t soaked already, you sure were now. 

You had no control when you let out a small moan at the contact, and that was all Lando wanted, and needed to hear, as he leaned down to capture your lips in an aggressive kiss.

It was like he was hungry, starving for you. And Lando had wanted you since he first saw you, and with the months that had passed, it all came crashing down at the same time.

The kiss was messy, teeth clashing and rough. But you loved it, feeling another moan slip out of your throat.

As you moaned, Lando took the chance and slipped his tongue inside your mouth, your own immediately tangling with his. It was harsh, but so full of passion. His hands were guiding your hips in a way that gave him some much needed friction. And when your hands slid up to grab onto the hair at the back of his neck, he let out a low groan. 

You couldn’t take it anymore, and you pulled on his hair, so you disconnected. Your breathing was heavy as you looked up at him. He was breathing heavy too, and his lips were wet, and slightly red. His pupils blown wide. God, he looked so fucking good, you almost wanted to go back to being angry at him. just because of how hot he was. But you didn’t, he spoke before you could do anything.

“Shit, I need you.” His eyes darted all across your face, looking for any type of reaction. “Please”

He looked so desperate, and he sounded even more desperate. He was begging you. 

Fuck it, you needed this too. “Your driver room” “Now”

He was quick to grab your hand and pull you after him.

When you finally entered his driver room behind him, he turned around and closed the door behind you. And when he turned back around, he took long steps towards you, until your lips met again. 

Neither of you could control the sounds coming from the both of you. His hands were everywhere, grabbing onto what he could. You hands found his hair again, grabbing it, earning a sweet sound from him. 

He walked the both of you backwards until the backs of your legs hit the small couch. He spun the both of you around, he sat down and pulled you to sit on top of him. 

When you sat down, Lando looked down to where your hips met as his grip on your ass moved your hips, grinding yourself onto him. You lifted both of your hands to hold onto the sides of his face, and made him look at you.

When Lando looked at you, you almost took his breath away. Your cheeks were tinted pink, and your lips were open, breathing heavily. Some of your hair had fallen in your face and your eyes were shining as you looked at him, he swore, you were a goddess. His hands slid up to hold on to your waist, and he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth in a way to try and control himself. But he lost it the second you whispered.

“Just fuck me already”

His hands immediately found the hem of your Red Bull shirt and pulled it over your head. You understood the signal and stood up from his lap and went to pull your pants off, as he pulled the fireproof shirt over his head. 

You were standing in front of him in only your underwear as you looked at him hurrying to pull his race suit and the fireproofs of his legs. When he finally did, he looked up at you, and you swore you could see his dick twitch in his gray boxers. 

Your confidence grew in you, so you went to take your bra off. When it hit the floor, you could hear him muttering under his heavy breath “Fuck”. Next, you hooked your thumbs in the waistband of your panties and slowly pulled them down. 

It had been awhile since the last time someone saw you naked, but with the reaction Lando was giving you, his eyes looking at you like you were a goddess. It made you feel beautiful, and so powerful. So you stepped forward until you were right in front of him. His eyes kept shifting from your face to your tits. 

You sat down in his lap again, your knees resting beside his hips, and your core just barely touching the outline of his dick in his boxers. When you leaned down to capture his lips again, you lowered your hips until you felt his covered dick resting between your folds. And because of the much needed friction you got. You moaned into his mouth. 

The kiss was much slower and careful than before, frustration replaced by the need to really taste each other. His hands had found a tight hold on your hips, as he tried to guide them to move. 

“Baby, you’re soaked” He said as he looked down at where you were resting above him.

Lifting your hips, you saw that his boxers were absolutely soaked because of you. And you felt your face heat up even more. 

“Fuck, I can’t wait anymore” “You reckon you’re ready to take me?”

He looked up at you, and you felt stunned. Just nodding wildly at him, his smirk grew. He looked down again, and pulled his boxers down enough to free his dick. Springing free, it hit his abdomen. You stared down, bewildered. How was he supposed to fit?

His hands found your hips again, and he guided them to rest right above him. One of his hands wrapped around his dick, and he moved his hands up and down a few times, as he looked up at you. You were staring down at his hand wrapped around himself, and you felt your pussy clench, waiting to finally have him inside of you. 

He moved his dick so the tip was resting against your hole. Looking up at him, he still had that smirk on his face. 

“Think you can handle it?” 

You didn’t reply before you dropped your hips down until he bottomed out inside of you. His pelvis hitting your clit. You both moaned simultaneously. The stretch was a lot, he was big, and you hadn’t had a dick in you for ages. But God it felt so good. 

Lando swore no one had been able to fit around him so perfectly, and when you took all of him, he felt you clench around him, almost holding him in. He felt another moan slip out of him. His mouth was hanging open in awe as he looked at you. Your head was tipped back, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure.

“Shit, you don’t know how long I’ve wanted you” He almost whispered.

He slid a hand up to hold on to the side of your face, tipping it down to make you look at him. And his other hand gave your hip a squeeze. 

“Please move”

You didn’t have to make him beg for you, he just did on his own. Was he really this weak for you?

A smirk grew on your face as you wanted to know just how weak he was. You just grinded your hips slowly, and you watched his face as his eyebrows furrowed in pleasure. You kept your small movements up, but he tried to lift your hips up and down on him. But you were stubborn, and you didn’t budge. 

Your hands grabbed onto his shoulders, as the movement was so good for you. Your clit getting friction everytime you moved back and forth. Your breath coming out in whimpers. 

You closed your eyes again, but opened them when you felt his hand on your face again. The look on his face was pleading. 

“Please baby.” “I need more” His voice was so soft and sweet, and you couldn’t help the smile on your lips. 

“Say it again.”

“Please please please please baby”

His hands were running up and down your torso as his eyes were locked on yours.

You gave in and moved your hips up to slam them back down. And the groan that made its way out of lando could’ve made you cum already.

You couldn’t hold back anymore, as you kept up the rhythm, riding him with your hands gripping his shoulders. His hands slid around to your ass and grabbed a hold as he helped you move up and down on his dick, and his hips moved up to meet yours. 

You knew the door to the driver room was pretty thin, so you bit your bottom lip to try and hold back some of the sounds threatening to escape. Lando noticed, and snaked a hand around to circle his thumb around your clit. He saw it on your face, the effect it had on you. But he also felt it, as you got even tighter around him. You didn’t moan from it, but he sure did. 

You were so focused as you tried to keep quiet, but with the added pleasure it was so difficult, also because of the sounds he was making.

“Come on baby, let me hear you” He said in a low tone, as he was looking up at you.

That broke you. And he got the sounds from you that he desperately needed to hear. 

As you looked down at him, you saw his eyebrows scrunched together as he was staring at himself disappearing inside you, and his mouth was hanging open. You lifted one of your hands and ran it through the wet curls on the top of his head, still soaked in champagne and sweat. 

You grabbed a hold of them and pulled his head back to make him look at you. All of the feelings you had for him came rising to the surface, just as you felt your climax closing in. The feelings of anger and frustration. So with gritted teeth, you spoke.

“Fuck you.”

He enjoyed that.

“You already are sweetheart.”

You gave in and sped up your rhythm. And his thumb moved faster and his grip on your ass tightened. Your hand slid down to cradle his jaw. You ran your thumb across the facial hair growing on his chin, before you pulled him in for a searing kiss before your climax hit like a brick wall. 

You disconnected from the kiss and tipped your head back, eyes screwed shut, as your vision was going white, and you whispered a quiet “Fuck, Lando” as you came. 

Lando felt you tighten around him as you came, and he looked up at you, mesmerized, as he saw your face contourting as you came around him. And he followed right after, coming inside you. 

You felt him filling you up, and his thumb had slowed down, but was still rubbing soft circles helping you come down from your orgasm. After a few seconds of catching your breath, as he did the same, you opened your eyes to look at him again, and he was already looking at you. The ghost of a gorgeous smile on his face. 

His hands rested on your thighs, and his thumb rubbing soft circles again. Neither of you said anything, you just looked at each other.

“You’re going to be the death of me” 

He was whipped.

Notes: I realized this could be made into a series or something. So let me know if you want more!! Thank you for reading<3

[rizzanon]

Background Info 2 (Tim, Cassandra, Stephanie, Damian, Duke Centered)

I think your relationship with Tim is more complicated than you wanted it to be. When he first came about to the family, he was the reason you found out about your family’s secrets. The ones that they’ve been hiding from you from the start. And for some reason, as a kid, you didn’t know whether you should be thankful, or hate him for that.

Why? Because the truth was a double-edged sword. On one hand, you had always felt like something was off about your family—the late nights, the unexplained bruises and injuries, the way they avoided topics like they were landmines. Tim revealing the truth was like solving a puzzle you didn’t know you were piecing together. But on the other hand, the truth came with a weight you hadn’t been prepared for before.

A part of you wanted to be grateful—Tim had given you the truth when no one else had. But another part of you couldn’t help but resent him. It was as if he had stolen the illusion of normalcy you clung to, replacing it with danger, secrets, and an overwhelming realization how much more you actually needed to do to get the approval of your family.

For the first few months of Tim being Robin, you didn’t see him as anything other than Jason’s replacement.

Jason had been your brother in every sense of the word. A little rough around the edges, sure, but he had a way of making you feel seen, even when the rest of the family was too caught up in their own world to notice you. So when he died, it left a gaping hole—not just in the family but in you. When Tim came along and slid into Jason’s place like it was as simple as filling a role, it was hard not to hate him for it.

You avoided him at first, ignored all of his attempts to be friendly or cordial. You refused to acknowledge him as anything other than “the new Robin.” You knew it was childish, but you were only 12 then. It wasn’t fair, you knew that, but grief doesn’t lend itself to rationality. Eventually, though, you started to let go of that resentment. He wasn’t Jason, but he wasn’t trying to be him either. He was just Tim.

So, you decided to try. He was close to your age, after all, and you figured, at the very least, you could be friends. But Tim didn’t seem to feel the same way. To him, you were Batman’s daughter, that was it. He kept things polite and distant, never letting you close enough to feel like anything more than an acquaintance.

That dynamic didn’t really shift until the death of his father. When Jack Drake was killed by Captain Boomerang, and Bruce formally adopted Tim, you felt for him in a way you hadn’t before. Losing a parent was a kind of pain you couldn’t imagine, and for the first time, you saw him as more than just “the new Robin”. You pitied him.

You tried to comfort him, offering him a shoulder to lean on and small acts of kindness. But Tim didn’t want your pity. If anything, it seemed to make him pull away even further. He started treating you less like family, and more like a roommate—someone he tolerated living with but didn’t go out of his way to connect with.

You didn’t push him. If that’s what he needed, fine. But you still wanted to be close to him, so you found other ways to try. You’d ask him for help with missions and cases, knowing how smart and capable he was, hoping it might bridge the gap between you. For a while, it worked—or at least, it felt like it did. But over time, Tim’s frustration began to show. He never said it outright, but his body language spoke volumes: the tight set of his jaw, the way he’d sigh when you approached, the way his answers grew shorter and more clipped.

Eventually, you stopped asking.

And that’s how it’s been ever since. The two of you drifted into a rhythm, more like estranged colleagues or roommates than siblings, or in the very least, friends. You didn’t mind—at least, that’s what you told yourself. But deep down, you couldn’t help but wonder if things could’ve been different, if you had acted differently from the very start.

When Cassandra first joined the family, you were slightly excited because, for the first time, you had a sister. An older one, in fact. It felt like a chance to have someone who might understand you in a way the others didn’t.

But then you found out that she didn’t speak. She couldn’t speak, write, or even read. The excitement you felt faltered, replaced by confusion and uncertainty. How were you supposed to bond with someone when you couldn’t even talk to them? At the time, you didn’t fully understand the extent of her struggles or the horrors she had endured. All you saw was the surface—a girl who communicated through body language and a few cryptic gestures.

At first, you weren’t sure how to approach her. Conversations were one-sided, and you found yourself rambling awkwardly, trying to fill the silence. She would watch you intently, her dark eyes seeming to take in every word, every movement, but she never responded. It made you feel exposed, like she could see through every layer you tried to hide behind.

Still, you tried. You offered to help her learn, even though you weren’t exactly the best teacher. You’d leave sticky notes with simple words written on them, hoping she’d start to recognize them. Sometimes she’d glance at them, but other times, she’d brush past them as if they weren’t there.

It was disheartening at first, but then there were moments that gave you hope. A small smile when you handed her something. A nod of acknowledgment when you rambled about your day. Slowly, you began to realize that Cassandra spoke volumes without ever saying a word.

But even as you grew to understand her, there was a part of you that wondered if she ever really saw you the same way. She bonded so quickly with Bruce, with Barbara, even with Tim. They seemed to understand her in ways you couldn’t, and it made you feel like an outsider all over again.

You wanted to be close to her, to have the sisterly relationship you’d always imagined, but it felt like you were chasing something that was always just out of reach. Cassandra was kind, patient even, but there was always a distance—an invisible wall that kept you from getting too close. You weren’t sure if it was something she put up or something you did.

But when she was getting mire familiar with speaking and reading, you noticed that she started to avoid you. Subtly. Cassandra didn’t see you as someone to guide or protect. In her eyes, you were fragile, someone who didn’t belong in the same world of violence and shadows that had shaped her. She didn’t want you to go down this path, in a way, she wanted you to live your life away from this.

But that’s not what you wanted. When you tried to train with her, hoping to gain her approval, she’d effortlessly disarm you, her movements almost lazy. “Not ready,” she’d say bluntly, walking away without further explanation. You were left feeling small, unworthy. And in a way, that sparked the initial tension between you and her.

As the years went by though, you hated that you were feeling jealous over the fact that your father seemed to see Cassandra as more of a daughter than with you. You’ve seen the way they bonded, seen the way Bruce’s usually stoic demeanor softened ever so slightly when Cassandra was around. It wasn’t like he ignored you, but it was different. With Cassandra, there was a shared understanding, an unspoken connection forged in the language of the battlefield—a language you never quite mastered.

You tried to convince yourself it didn’t bother you. After all, Bruce was distant with everyone, wasn’t he? But the more you watched him mentor her, the more you saw the effort he put into helping her grow—not just as a fighter, but as a person—the harder it became to push those feelings of inadequacy aside.

Cassandra, for her part, didn’t seem to notice how much it hurt. Or if she did, she didn’t say anything. She was focused, always pushing herself to be better, stronger, faster. And you… you felt like you were standing still, trying to catch up but never quite reaching her.

The jealousy festered quietly. You hated feeling that way toward her, especially when she hadn’t done anything wrong. She deserved Bruce’s attention. She deserved to be seen. But so did you. And no matter how hard you tried, it felt like you were always coming up short in his eyes.

Over time, you started pulling back. You stopped asking her to train with you. Stopped leaving notes or trying to initiate conversations. Instead, you kept to yourself, throwing yourself into missions and tasks that didn’t involve her or Bruce. Maybe if you worked hard enough, fought hard enough, they’d finally see you as an equal.

But the distance didn’t fix anything. It only made the loneliness worse. You missed the small moments with Cassandra, the fleeting smiles and quiet nods. And even though you’d never admit it out loud, you missed the rare moments of connection with Bruce too.

The truth was, you didn’t know how to bridge the gap between you and Cassandra—or anyone in the family, for that matter. You were stuck in a cycle of trying too hard and pulling away, and no matter what you did, it never felt like enough.

And as for Stephanie, you two have never actually been close. At first, you just saw her as Tim’s girlfriend, and that was it. You didn’t pay her much attention beyond that. But things shifted dramatically when Barbara and Dick allowed her to take up the Batgirl mantle while your father was “dead.”

The first time you saw her in her version of the Batgirl costume, it felt like the world stopped. That symbol, that legacy—it was supposed to mean something, and seeing her wear it felt like a betrayal. Dick brought her along as Batgirl during his time as Batman, with Damian as his Robin, and the sight of them together cut deeper than you wanted to admit.

You felt replaced. Tossed aside. Forgotten. And that feeling lit a fire in you—a desperate, burning need to prove that you deserved to be Batgirl more than Stephanie ever did. This wasn’t just about the costume or the name; it was about everything it represented. Respect. Recognition. Family.

So, yes, it became a one-sided rivalry, fueled by jealousy and betrayal. You trained harder, worked yourself to the brink, but no matter how much you pushed, it never felt like enough. Stephanie had been doing this longer than you had, and her experience showed. But that didn’t make it sting any less when you watched her work alongside Dick and Damian with an ease you couldn’t seem to replicate.

When your father returned, you thought things would change—that maybe this would be your chance to finally step into the role you’d been striving for. But even then, Stephanie remained Batgirl, and Bruce seemed to call on her more often than he did you. For recon missions, patrols, you name it—she was his go-to. It hurt, deeply.

And when Stephanie eventually stepped down from being Batgirl to return to her original mantle as Spoiler, it didn’t bring you the satisfaction you thought it would. You didn’t “win.” There was no triumph, no validation that you were the better Batgirl. Stephanie left on her own terms, and that only made it worse.

You felt like you’d lost. Lost the unspoken competition you’d waged in your own head, lost your chance to prove your worth. And that sense of failure—it ate away at you, leaving behind a bitterness you couldn’t shake. Instead of quelling your insecurities, it only made them worse, fueling a toxic cycle of self-doubt and a relentless need to prove yourself.

Maybe in another life, things would’ve been different. Maybe you and Stephanie could’ve been friends, allies even. But the weight of your own jealousy and toxic mentality made that impossible. You wanted to reach out, to connect, but every time you tried, that voice in your head reminded you of all the ways you’d fallen short. And so, the distance between you and Stephanie only grew, just like it had with everyone else.

As for Damian, your relationship with him has always been a mixed bag. When he first showed up at the manor, you didn’t know what to make of him. He was brash, arrogant, and entirely too confident for someone so young. At first, you thought he was just some spoiled brat with a superiority complex. And honestly? You weren’t far off.

He didn’t waste any time asserting himself, loudly proclaiming that he was the true heir to Batman’s legacy and making it clear he saw you as competition. Not a sibling, not even an ally—just someone to outmatch. He called you soft, mocked your fighting skills, and dismissed your efforts to keep the peace as weakness. It was exhausting, to say the least.

At the same time, though, you couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry for him. He’d been thrust into a completely unfamiliar world, taken from the League of Assassins and dropped into the Wayne family chaos. It was clear he didn’t know how to connect with anyone, and for all his bravado, there was something lonely about him.

You tried to bridge the gap at first, hoping to at least build a sense of camaraderie. But Damian made it difficult. He was quick to push you away, and any attempt to be friendly was met with biting remarks or scornful looks. Over time, you learned to keep your distance, picking your battles carefully.

What made it worse was how Bruce and Dick always seemed to take his side. When he antagonized you or picked fights, their solution was always the same:

“Be patient with him,” or, “He’s still adjusting. Give him time.”

But how could you? He was the one who started the fights, who insulted you at every opportunity. No one seemed to care about that part.

Still, as much as Damian constantly undermined you, there were moments—fleeting and rare—when you noticed something different. He wasn’t as dismissive as he pretended to be. There were times when you’d find your weapons repaired after training or your notes on a case mysteriously corrected. He never said anything about it, and you never brought it up, but you knew it was him.

Even his insults, as cruel as they were, sometimes felt… purposeful. Like he was testing you, pushing you to be better. At first, you thought it was just an excuse you made up to deal with his attitude, but over time, it became clear that his criticism wasn’t entirely baseless. Damian had a way of pointing out your flaws in a way no one else did—harshly, yes, but sometimes accurately.

As the years went on, your dynamic shifted. The outright animosity faded, though it never disappeared entirely. There were still arguments, snide remarks, and moments where you swore he was intentionally trying to get under your skin. But there was also a strange, unspoken understanding.

You’d never call yourselves close. You’d never confide in each other or share heartfelt moments. But there was a bond, however tenuous, forged by shared experiences and blood. There was a mutual, begrudging respect that neither of you would admit out loud.

At the end of the day, Damian was still Damian. He still had his sharp tongue and holier-than-thou attitude, and you still had your resentment. But underneath it all, there was a flicker of something—rivalry mixed with loyalty, disdain mixed with a reluctant sense of family. It wasn’t perfect, and it probably never would be. But it was enough.

For Duke, it’s a bit different. He joined the family relatively later than the others, and Bruce didn’t officially adopt him into the family—he only fostered him. That distinction didn’t seem to matter to anyone else, though. From the moment Duke stepped into the manor, he fit right in.

Whenever you and Duke crossed paths, he was always nice. Friendly, even. But just like with the others, there was this invisible wall between you and him. Why? You weren’t entirely sure. Maybe it was because you noticed how easily he got along with the rest of your siblings, how seamlessly they accepted him. They included him in more things, leaned on him more during missions, and spent more time with him than they did with you.

It wasn’t like you hated him for that. No, never. Duke wasn’t the problem—it was the growing realization that once again, you were on the outside looking in. You couldn’t help but feel like you were being edged out of your own family. And that hurt, both your pride and your heart.

There were moments when you tried to connect with him, telling him about a lead you’d found or an idea you had for a case. Duke always listened, but his responses left a sting. Comments like, “Are you sure you can handle this stuff by yourself?” or, “You don’t want any help?” or even, “Maybe you should get Dick or Cass to help you out with this.”

You knew he probably meant well, but those words dug deep. It felt like he didn’t think you were capable, that he saw you as someone who couldn’t hold their own. You never said anything about it, of course, but it only strengthened your resolve to prove yourself.

And maybe that was the problem. The more you tried to show him—and everyone else—that you were competent, the more strained things became. It wasn’t outright hostility, not by any means, but there was a tension that lingered between you. A mutual awkwardness neither of you ever addressed.

At the end of the day, though, Duke was Duke. You weren’t enemies, and you didn’t resent him. You were friends, at the very least. But there was always that wall, a quiet reminder that, even in your own family, you were never quite enough.

I hope this was able to effectively portrag the fact that the reader is far from a perfect person, because I don’t think I was able to show that in the first background info. I feel that growing up in such an emotionally stunted family would inevitably shape her into someone complex and flawed. She wouldn’t be endlessly hopeful or optimistic. How could she be? She’s not just some perpetually kind, selfless girl with no negative emotions. Instead, her experiences have made her someone who struggles with jealousy, insecurity, and a need to prove herself, even if it leads to toxic behavior… but i hope y’all enjoyed this part!! lmk what you think <3

Part 1 (Alfred, Bruce, Dick, Barbara, Jason Centered)

m.list

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(idk why i can’t tag some of y’all, must be your settings i think 😓)

[fuxuannie]

* pairing(s) : various hsr x gender neutral reader

* prompt : drabbles abt hsr charac's and smth they like abt u?? idk im having brainrot spare me <\3.

* authors note : this was a cute idea, lowkey made me miss having a crush HAHAHA. if this does well i promy on my left toe ill do a part two (REAL).. maybe ooc, i'm just brainrotting huhu

DAN HENG was.. oddly uncomfortable but comfortable with the feeling of liking you. You two hadn't been together long, but the short amount of time had him noticing all the little quirks that you'd do, how you'd tap your pencil whenever you were stuck on a problem, the routine you had every morning and the little notes you'd leave for the trailblazers inside their rooms.

The part that made him feel a little iffy was that.. he wasn't used to being like this. He was never the type to care much about the quirks and habits of people, but considering the amount of time he spends with you (and staring at you), he can't really blame himself. He was absolutely smitten for you, so maybe those changes weren't so bad.

"You're so cute." He chuckles as he leans on his doorframe, catching you red handed as you stick the 'anonymous' sticky note on his desk. (Everyone figured it out it was you since you were the only one who wouldn't recieve one.) "Heyy, how did you catch me?" You say with a giggle, as he walked towards you and pulled you close from your waist. "The little things about you give everything away, my love."

Saying that MARCH 7TH adored you was an understatement. She absolutely LOVED being with you, all the time, everywhere. She'll be clinging onto you like a koala and if you're busy or Welt tells her to stop being so affectionate she'll pout and cross her arms. "Why can't I be with my partner?!" She'll say with an annoyed tone, "Because you have a mission, March." Welt would reply, rolling his eyes as you only chuckle in amusement.

You already knew how clingy she'd be, and infact you loved that about her, it was so sweet with how much she cared. She'll take and shoot thousands of arrows for you, to protect you and make sure you'll always be safe and happy to cuddle her before sleeping.

Speaking of which, shes in your arms, softly snoring as you two snuggle closely on her bed. You can't believe she's yours, the most pretty, bashful and caring girl in the universe. And she loved being with you the most.

BRONYA frowned as she stared at the clock in her office, 9PM. She was still forbidden to go home, and knew how lonely it must be for you. She was your lover, but could barely find time on most days to be with you. "It's okay!" She remembers you saying, but she can't help but feel guilty imagining all the times you slept alone in a shared bed.

The sound of her door creaking open caught her attention, and she watched as you peeked your head through the door and giggle. "(name)?!" She says with a shocked and confused voice, watching you open the little sling bag that you brought with you and pull out a lunchbox. "Eat. I know you haven't eaten." You demand, putting the neatly put together meal that you made for her.

Even if you had done this so many times, it still surprised Bronya every time you had these little surprise visits. "Dear.. I appreciate all of this but it'll be late if you leave now-" But a puzzled expression is plastered all over her face as she watched you make a little comfy sleeping corner with a pillow and a hood you were wearing as a blanket.

She sighs at your stubborn nature, knowing she won't change your mind. You notice her pulling up a chair and putting it next to hers, she sits down and pats her lap. "You can.. try and see if that's more comfortable." Finally, her worried gaze turned into a smile as you're eyes sparkled in delight. Before you sat down, you plant a kiss on her cheek and lay down on her lap.

"I love you, Bronya."

"I love you more, (name)."

Dating JING YUAN might be the hardest quest you've accepted, the DOZING GENERAL was on quite a handful of lists of men that parents want their daughters to marry. And hell, they've even tried throwing their daughters in his way, but he's effortlessly avoided them all. As you were the only person who had truly mattered in his heart.

He knew that his popularity can be.. suffocating. Even when he was simply courting you, he asked Tingyun to stop selling photos of him, so you'd know that he was completely serious on being a better man than he ever could be for you. But that alone can't stop the delusions of obsessed women, and Jing Yuan spent no time reassuring you that you're the only one who gets to hold his heart and say it belongs to you.

In a crowded area, his eyes never stray far from your figure that stands next to him and holds his hand. Despite the whispers, or the fawning women (and men), his eyes were locked on yours and his gaze wasn't going anywhere.

During his meetings (where he'd sometimes be dozing off..), he'd notice how you'd actually be paying attention and smiles at your adorable serious face like the most smitten man he is in the galaxy.

You can generalize it and say that Jing Yuan has made it so painfully clear to everyone that he was inlove with one person, and had no intentions of entertaning anyone else.

HERTA, despite her puppets scattered everywhere, her main body was always nervous when it came to being around you. Maybe you were used to it, always seeing her around, but she had not quite been used to human to human contact in a while. It's natural the way she tries to brush off the way she profusely blushes after your fingertips brush against her, because she's not used to spending so much time with someone as herself. She can't just pretend something isn't there anymore, because around you, she's just an absolute mess.

You watched Herta as she works on yet another puppet for the station, putting a hand on her shoulder as she jolts at the touch. "Hehe, no need to be startled. It's just me." You tell her, but she pouts a little in response. "I am an utterly perfect being. Little things such as that do not invoke fear in me."

Humming as a response, she finds it hard to find any interest in her work now. Why would she? You're right next to her, and you were far more interesting and pretty than any of the other things she's created.

She leans on you and you look down at her, "Hm? Have you lost interest in it already?" You ask, already familiar with her habit of losing motivation in a task when uninterested. She looks up at you and smiles a little. "How could I not when you're here? I might even say, you're the most interesting thing in my entire life."

GEPARD was a man who thought that loyalty was to be earned, not given freely. So when he had met you, his heart knew that no one was as deserving of his loyalty than you. You were apart of the Silvermane guards, and so naturally he was your leader. On the first day, you were very kind to not only Gepard, but your fellow guards as well. Many believed you were the kindness that the Silvermane guards deserved but never recieved, and he couldn't help but agree.

When you two began dating, he never noticed how much softer he had gotten. The way his gaze lingered on you when you left the room, the gentle kisses he'd plant on your cheek, and the way he enjoyed making you flustered. Those things were actions that the Captain didn't know he could enjoy, until you had come into his life, and practically changed the trajectory of it.

You were rambling on about something, and as usual Gepard sat next to you and listened. Smiling a bit at your excitement of whatever you were so passionate about, eventually his gaze went from your eyes, to your lips and at that realization he nervously looked away and stared at his shoes as if the most interesting thing in the world.

"Gepard? Are you alright?" You noticed how he he had looked away, and he was silent for a few moments before swiftly planting a kiss on your lips, something unexpected considering you were both in a public space. When he pulled away, a clear blush decorated his cheeks in such a color that made him look so pretty. "Sorry, I couldn't help myself."

SAMPO adores messing with you, little teases to get you riled up. (but never taking it too far.) How could he not? When you have such a pretty expression when you were getting teased. But other than that, he was surprisingly domestic. He liked cooking for and with you, washing clothes, eating together in the morning and generally just liked doing house work with you.

You'd wake up to breakfast in bed more often than not, and a smiling Sampo waiting for you to wake up in the side opposite to you. "Good morning, sleepy head." or "Good morning, sleeping beauty." on other days, he was such a sweet man to you, to a point you were unsure of what you did to deserve him.

And he knew you thought of that, so every night he'd whisper all the little things he grew to love about you. His own little way to let you sleep without a heavy heart.

You were the child of a swordsmith, YANQING adored swords. Need I say more? You two loved to go on and on about different swords, how they're made, how they're used and the history. Yanqing loved to talk about this with you, as many people thought he was almost crazy for his love for it, but you never judged him. That little thought alone made his heart flutter and eyes sparkle in adoration.

You let him be the little excited nerd he was whenever you invited him to your job, admiring the photos of different swords you helped make on the walls and if he was good, you'd make him a new one to take home.

"I love you! I love you, I love you, I love you!" He'd gush, admiring the newly forged blade in his hands as you chuckle a bit at his excitement. "Your welcome, love."