#but yes this has been a thought that's been eating at me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

chaoticwriting · 24 hours ago

Text

Gotham New Rogue 2

It's been a few weeks since Danny started to become the Trickster. To be honest, it is working very well. His core is expanding fast as ectoplasm is regenerating faster than ever before. He is also slowly developing new abilities and gaining more control and powers to his already established abilities.

For instance, Danny used to struggle making clones, but now he can easily create dozens of them with just a thought. He can also change his clothes to whatever he imagines using ectoplasm now. His ice power is also stronger and easier to control. His superhuman body is developing and slowly getting stronger and faster.

Overall, Danny will say that make a smart decision to become a rogue especially since no one has caught him yet. Danny is currently laying on top of a building watching the sun slowly set in the horizon. His stomach suddenly grumbles and he decides to hit the shack before he gets to "work" tonight.

Jumping off the roof, Danny lands and walks to the nearest Batburger while still wearing his rogue suit. He has a totally funny idea today and it involves him being seen in public. Entering the Batburger is like entering a library for some reason. As soon as he enters, everyone goes deathly quiet.

Danny slowly walks towards the cashier and orders his food.

Danny: 5 sets of set C please.

Cashier: Ermm, that will be 60 bucks.

Danny: Here.

After paying for the food, Danny gets his food and sits at one of the tables alone. It's only after he is through his 3rd set that reality is set in for the people. They begin to move and contrary to Danny's expectations, approach him to ask for pictures. Danny allows them some pictures and unknowingly raises his status as Gotham's friendliest rogue.

Suddenly, a white man that screams rich guy, a woman with blonde hair and a black guy wearing Signal's merch approach him. Danny has learned a lot of things from his 14 years of life and 2 years of half life and Danny knows when a rich guy approaches you, it's never good (Sam doesn't have the rich vibe).

Rich guy: Hello Trickster! May we have a meal with you?

Danny: Sure.

Rich guy: Ah, how rude of me. My name is Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne. These two are my friends, Stephanie Brown and Duke Thomas. You can call me Tim by the way.

Danny: Sure, Tim.

They sit opposite him with their meals and try to make small talks with him while eating. The trio realize that Danny seems to respond a lot better when Steph or Duke is the one to ask the question.

Steph: So, Trickster. Why don't you like my friend here?

Duke: Way to go in being subtle, Steph. Why not ask who is he really next?

Steph: Hey, I can't help it you know. He seems so snarky whenever Tim asks questions. I wanna know if Tim pissed him off or something.

Danny: He is rich, right?

Duke: Err, yes?

Steph: Let's say he is. Why does that matter?

Danny: I hate rich people. And government. But who doesn't hate the government?

Duke: So, eat the rich?

Danny: Yes.

Steph: Cool cool. We are also here just so we could leech him off anyway. We're not really friends.

Tim: Ow, you hurt me by saying that. What happened to our vow of eternal friendships?

Steph: I cross my fingers.

Duke: I lie.

Danny: Hahahaha. You're like my friends.

Tim: You have friends?

Danny: Of course I have friends. And unlike you I don't need money to have friends.

Tim: Sorry sorry. Are your friends also rouges?

Danny: Wouldn't you like to know? Last I need is Batman investigating my friends. I'm sure Batman is part of you rich people group chat or something.

Steph and Duke: *Snickers*

Tim: *Glares at the two* Why would you think Batman is in contact with the rich people?

Danny: Isn't it obvious? Batman has all these high tech gadgets and is always there fast whenever a Wayne is kidnapped. I would even say Batman is being sponsored by the Wayne.

Danny: I also don't like most heroes in general. They are just the government lapdog doing whatever the government wants.

Tim, Steph and Duke frowned at that statement. From the way Danny speaks, it is clear that he has some history against the government. Him being here also means he is at least confident enough to run away if any of the bats are here. Is it just blind confidence or a truly competent ability will remain to be seen.

Tim is just about to refute him when Danny suddenly stands up. All of them tensed up and ready for battle when Danny turns towards one side of the window, waves and disappears right in front of them. They are very confused and when they turn towards the direction Danny was just looking at, they see Batman and Black Bat right on the rooftop across the building.

Batman and Tim nod to each other and they all return to the caves.

-Batcave-

Tim: So you all hear the conversation right?

Dick: Except at the end where the sound becomes blurred for a moment, we hear everything.

Tim: Good. So what are your thoughts on this?

Damian: It is pretty self explanatory Drake. He has a personal hatred towards the government and that extends to all bodies of government or people he thought is connected to the government.

Tim: But why though? Is the hatred towards the government something as simple because he is a criminal? Or is there something else towards it?

Bruce: There is nothing to find about him currently with our limited resources about him. Return to the manor for today and take some rest. We will investigate it later.

All of them return to the manor and rest for the night.

-2 weeks later-

The Trickster is standing in front of an unconscious and tied up Batman. He is giggling loudly that evolves into full blown laughter.

He takes off Batman's belt and starts to pull out stuff one after another. Soon, he found the item that he needed.

Trickster: Hahahahahahaha. I have finally got it. The strongest weapon in the world!

The batfam that is watching the live broadcast shiver as they watch Trickster holds out the black object high in the sky.

#danny phantom #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc #batfam #batfamily

218 notes · View notes

knavesflames · 2 days ago

Text

Arlecchino’s Christmas Gift

Hello omg sorry for not posting I’ve been crashing out in terms of physical health (yes yes, I’m sick again, yay me!!)

Anyway, a little Christmas present for you all. Apologies if the standard is not Normal, but it will be soon.

Word count: 1497

Contents: soft Arlecchino, bottom!Arlecchino, fingering

Nsft utc<3

Christmas is a busy time for the House of the Hearth. With God knows how many children, Arlecchino works hard to make sure they all have a lovely day. Barbecues are out of the question, the snowflakes sticking to the ground a definite rejection of yet another barbecue. Instead, she opts for cooking a huge feast (or rather, you cook, she tells you to stop adding seasoning).

Watching the children eat and open the gifts she’s spent too much mora on, you can see that her eyes have softened significantly, even if her smile is small and barely there. “I don’t want gifts,” she’ll mutter when you ask her what she wants, she does it every year. “Gifts are unnecessary and superficial. The children receive them because they are children.”

You think she says this because she doesn’t know how to receive gifts. The House of the Hearth before was.. unkind, to say the least. The poor woman has been so busy, she’s barely had time to think about herself (you wonder if that’s the point), you know very well that the children are her priority, always. You, too. She’s made it abundantly clear multiple times to multiple times that it’s you and the children who come first.

When you see her sigh and wipe her forehead in slight frustration, you start to get an idea of what you can give her. Something she wouldn’t deem superficial, something she looks like she needs. And of course, when you excuse yourself early with the claim that you’re ’so tired’ and ‘the day has been exhausting’, she lets you leave with a soft kiss on your forehead and a murmur of affection. You don’t go to sleep, though, no. You wait until you hear the children leave the main dining hall and shuffle to their rooms to sleep before you start putting your plan in motion. You know she won’t go to bed for a little bit, she never does.

You waste no time in making yourself her gift. Putting on the lingerie you know she adores, dimming the lights and putting the small box of.. objects, by the bed, you position yourself comfortably. With clumsy movements, you manage to tie the ribbon around your wrists the way she’s done to you so many times. You admit it’s difficult, doing it with one working hand, but you get it done well enough. Then, what else is there to do but wait? The whole idea is for her to feel better and have whatever relief she desires, but you can’t help but feel excitement bubbling inside of you with every second that passes. She doesn’t feel good unless you feel good. That became obvious when she couldn’t cum until you were just as desperate as she was.

You let out a small breath when you finally hear her soft footsteps, and you’re trying to picture her reaction in your head. For some reason, you suddenly become nervous— what if she just wants to go to bed, or what if she just hates the idea? The ideas run through your head until—

“My dear?”

Your thoughts are cut short when your eyes snap to her. She looks a little shocked, her lips parted slightly, and her eyes scanning you, but she doesn’t seem repulsed or uninterested.

“Merry Christmas. You dislike gifts because they’re superficial, but I’m not, am I?”

Arlecchino swallows, her throat suddenly dry. You’ve always been the thing that gets her to react the most, both of you know that. Her words falter for a second before she manages to murmur.

“No, no you are not,” taking a step forward, then another, her hand reaching out to graze your skin gently. “Archons, look at you. You’re beautiful. All wrapped up, too.”

You smile sweetly at her, all worries dissipating at the look on her face. For someone as ruthless as her, she certainly softens up when you’re around, her touch gentle and her words quiet.

“How long did that take you? Wrapping oneself with one hand is a difficult task, no?”

“It took a while. Worth it to see your face. You can undo it if you want, or you can keep them like this.”

“Stay like that.”

“Okay.” Your own words are a whisper, and you continue to smile softly up at her. Her hands are delicate when they move over your skin, nails gently scratching in the places she knows makes you shiver.

“You wore my favourite.”

“For you.”

“You’re too good to me.” A breath, barely a whisper, but it’s heard nonetheless. It was only for you to hear anyway. She leans down, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead, then your cheek, then your lips until you return the kiss, letting her tongue meet yours with a soft sigh. You go to wrap your arms around her, before remembering that you have, in fact, tied yourself up. You think you feel her smile slightly into the kiss before her hand wraps firmly around your binded wrists.

Her kisses move downwards, sucking gently at the pulse point of your neck to feel you shiver. She seems to enjoy doing that, working you up only to make you wait. But, as promised, it’s her turn tonight, so you don’t complain. When she’s satisfied that your hands will stay in place and won’t struggle to get out of the ribbon restraints, her hand moves, fingers ghosting the hem of your underwear before slowly pulling it down. You help her, lifting your hips and stretching your legs so they’ll come off as quickly as possible. When they do come off, landing on the floor with a quiet noise, she leans on the bed, knee parting your legs.

Arlecchino grumbles when she realises she’s still fully clothed, and you think you see her hands trembling as she quickly fumbles to unbutton every single button she has and shed the fabric. She returns to her place soon after, her bare skin warmer than flames against yours. Her knee resumes its actions, pushing your legs apart until it meets your core, already aching. You gasp, and she relishes in the sound. She does the movement again before stopping. Digits move swiftly in finally unwrapping the ribbon around your wrists, tossing it to the side.

“I need you,” Arlecchino mutters, almost like she’s embarrassed. “I need you. Please.”

“How?” Although you enjoy occasionally being dominant, you can’t bring yourself to tonight. The poor woman has been so stressed, and this is her gift, after all.

“You know how.”

“Fingers or tongue, Peruere?”

She gasps at the usage of her actual name, her movements of her hands caressing each part of your body she can reach before she manages to speak.

“Fingers. Please.”

So, you waste no time in letting your own hand slip between her legs, moving until you find her clit. You give it a few experimental rubs, finding a rhythm she seems to enjoy before letting your lips land on her neck. You’d tease her for the quiet gasps she lets out, or for the way your fingers slide so easily into her, but you don’t think you have it in you, especially not when her hips start rocking into your hand with a rhythm so messy it’s almost pathetic, in an affectionate way. But she’s getting impatient and frustrated, and she can’t chase what she wants so badly with the rhythm she has.

You let her try for a bit longer, but the small whine that escapes her usually quiet mouth almost makes you feel bad. So, your free hand moves to her hip, gently stopping her before guiding her into a rhythm that causes all sounds to cease— only out of pure pleasure, her mouth hanging open and her eyes, usually so piercing, squeezed shut.

“It’s good?” You hum, struggling to contain the small giggle at the sight of her as needy as she is now.

“Quite.” Comes the only strained reply before her head buries back into your neck. She’s close, you can tell that much by the way she clenches around your curling fingers again and again.

“Are you going to cum for me, Peruere?”

“Yes, for you, yes.” She rasps out. It’s a struggle for her to get out any words at all by this point, and anything she does get out is less than coherent. Then her body tenses, she lets out a sound you know all too well— a mix of a grunt, groan and a whimper all in one, before she collapses onto you, her legs shaking.

You mumble sweet praises into her ear, stroking her now tousled hair until she regains her breath and stops trembling.

“Merry Christmas.” You chuckle, kissing her shoulder.

“That.. may have been the best gift I have ever had. My birthday is in August, if you’re curious.”

She’s being silly, you know that much, but you have one too many ideas to let them fizzle out now.

168 notes · View notes

cheshiresense · 2 days ago

Text

Ok so I've actually gotten several asks about what Starrk's relationship with Unohana/the Fourth is/was like, but I don't have time atm to get into it, but I also want to toss out some of my headcanons about it because I've thought about it a lot, so I'll just list out a few headcanons in no particular order and get back to those asks later.

- First of all, Unohana is actually super protective of Starrk, but in a way that just confuses and/or scares people. Like she’s the sort to say dead serious no joke “my lieutenant is a gentle soul, you will answer to me if you upset him” while Starrk’s murdering his way across a battlefield and his reiatsu is eating a bunch of people for lunch 😂😂

- Unohana never thought she even had any protective instincts but Starrk just brings it out in her. At her age, with her experience, she can better sense just how old he actually is, just as she can sense-smell the amount of blood on him, so she knows he's lived a long time and killed a lot of people. But she can also tell he's not like her, he doesn't enjoy that sort of thing—when he kills, it's probably either because he has no choice or because he does it out of a sense of duty to whatever it is he believes in enough to fight for. Case in point, literally no one as powerful as she knows Starrk to be would choose to enter the Fourth with an honest interest in learning even more about healing than he already does. He's patient with even the weakest unseated Shinigami, and Unohana no longer has to personally come running every time the Eleventh decides to stop by to harass her officers because Starrk is there to stonewall them at the gates. But at the same time, the grief and loneliness she can sense in his reiatsu makes her want to shed blood because it never goes away. He can coax the shyest officers out of their shells with that no-pressure-calm he's constantly radiating, and for all that he'd prefer a nap over conversation any day of the week, he's also indulgent with members of his own squad when they ask him questions about a lecture or for a spar when he has time. He's reliable and steady and everything the Fourth needs him to be, with a reserved personality and a long-suffering air about him but careful hands and an even more careful mind in everything he does. And yet, hidden beneath all that, Unohana has never met anyone so constantly, miserably tired all the time. So yes, in her opinion, Starrk is a gentle, even fragile soul. She doesn't know - yet - what broke him so badly, but he's also hers now—she chose him, and he chose her, and she doesn't think she's imagining the way the Fourth feels stronger and stabler with his presence, with the easy way he shoulders the weight of a division right alongside her, with how their subordinates walk around with more confidence too in response to having two monsters watching over them now. For his competence as her second-in-command alone, she would've shielded him from anyone who upset him. But for the way he follows her around, genuinely eager to learn; for the way he sits with the younger officers and answers their questions and shows them new Kidou spells and treats them to snacks and protects them on missions; for the way he can stare down her Bankai without flinching and only grumble afterwards about how he deserves a week of sleep for such a hard spar but never even bat an eye when she reaches out to heal him with the very hands that had done their level best to rip him apart for several hours only minutes earlier; for the way he can give back just as good as he gets and allows her the chance to let herself off her own self-made leash every few weeks without having to hold back—for all of that and more, she would challenge anyone who dares try and force him to draw his blade against his will or break him any further than he already has been.

- I headcanon that for students who want to enter the Fourth, they have to take a separate written exam before they graduate. Results aren't great because there isn't actually much of a medical track at the Academy, plus it's generally considered uncool to end up at the Fourth, so there aren't many who would even take the exam, and of those who do, most can't even finish the entire thing, and minimum pass percentage is probably something like 50% lmao. At this point, it's less an exam and more an assessment of where the student is at so the Fourth's seated officers can sort the newcomers more easily when they have to start them on the basics. Then along comes Starrk who not only finishes the entire exam but also gets everything right, and it catches Unohana's attention enough to get her to make the trip to the Academy to speak to Starrk herself just to find out more, and the more she finds out, the more she thinks she'll finally be able to name a lieutenant with the kind of standards she's always wanted to be able to measure them by. At the end of the impromptu interview, she asks one more question—she asks him if he'd be willing to take one more test and become her official student. The lieutenant seat is his either way, but she's never had a personal student before. She won't be teaching him from scratch, which is a shame—someone with potential and a learning curve like Starrk's should've been scooped up long ago. But there's also more than just medical Kidou and surgical procedures she can pass on to him, and he may be a gentle soul, but he's a gentle soul with something he fiercely wants to protect, and that means there are other things she can teach him. He says yes, and that day, on the day they meet for the first time in any timeline, in a training room deep beneath the Academy, all seals activated for both privacy and containment, and even then they'd barely held—Unohana unseals her Bankai for the first time in centuries, and Starrk weathers every blow with the unyielding bedrock found beneath mountains and deserts and canyons and oceans, timeworn but timeless and enduring all the same. In the aftermath, both of them bleeding from multiple wounds with a good chunk of their reiatsu depleted, she thinks, yes, this one will be mine. He is strong enough to stand with me, tempered enough to be unafraid of me, old enough to have experienced the worst the world can offer, and wise enough to accept and bear it. And yet he remains... soft, at heart. Kind, in a way I do not fully understand, but it is precious nonetheless. It is something that should be protected. He is someone I can protect, so he will be mine.

- She'd prob also be like "let's get this signed and sealed before the old coot catches wind of another dual-wielding Shinigami and thinks he has first dibs just because he got the other two" 😂

- She would 1000% give Shunsui a shovel talk. It's probably the most terrifying shovel talk anyone has ever received in living memory ganbaa shunsui be brave you can do it.

- As for Starrk, he adores the fuck out of Unohana. But he’s also constantly baffled by how she kind of mothers him sometimes, in really off-putting ways (to others) but he doesn't realize that. Like the first time he goes out on a not-a-date with Shunsui, Unohana will be like "I wrote a dissertation called 101 Ways to Sterilize a Man, please read it over, I require urgent feedback" all while staring gloomy-eyed straight at a sweating Shunsui from behind Starrk's back because she'd watched this brat grow up, so she knows his skirt-chasing tendencies better than most, knows the way he likes beautiful people, likes flirting with them and charming them, likes the novelty of a new relationship and the thrill of the chase, and so she also knows the way it always ends with broken hearts but hardly ever his own. At most, he'll pout for a few days or a few weeks and mope and whine to Ukitake, and then he'll move on. He's always earnest and genuine in the moment, treats his lovers with all the respect and affection in the world when they're together, but he bores easily, and for all that he plays a good game of being open and friendly and approachable, Unohana has rarely met anyone more guarded when it comes to matters of the heart than Kyouraku Shunsui. He'd grown out of genuinely pursuing people in more recent decades, goes through the motions but no longer seems very interested in romance or even short dalliances, mostly only flirts these days with his long-time female acquaintances who all know better, but it would be easy for him to fall back into old habits. If he dares to be as careless with Starrk's heart as he'd been with previous lovers, Unohana won't stop until the Eighth Division will require a new captain.

- Starrk totally calls Unohana Shishou-san eventually. He has a thing for nicknames. Shunsui is of course Taichou-san. Shiina is Sensei-san. Unohana is Shishou-san. One person per category. It's an odd quirk of his.

#bleach #coyote starrk #unohana retsu #shunstarrk #ichigo & starrk time travel verse

77 notes · View notes

sleepynoons · 2 days ago

Text

ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS IS YOU BY MARIAH CAREY– neuvillette (genshin) x afab!f!reader, nsfw / 18+

genre – fluff, smut word count – ~3,100 warnings – age gap, lingerie, oral (receiving), fingering synopsis – it's your first winter with neuvillette, and where you grew up, it's customary to celebrate by exchanging presents, eating delicious food, and spending quality time with loved ones. even though neuvillette is overwhelmed with work at the moment, you're excited to surprise him.

Neuvillette is known for his lack of personal greed, with the exception of his indisputable particular taste for certain flavors of water. Because of his asceticism, intentional or not, it had been difficult for the two of you to enter the relationship you now are in, but with the incredible aid and full support of the Melusines, the Chief Justice finally distinguished your feelings of likeness separate from others of friendliness and sociability.

To his end, though, you are known for your intensity, speech sharp with judgment, gaze watchful and vigilant, pen always in hand, scribbling away at a new manuscript or op-ed for The Steambird. Originating from Sumeru, you had been well aware of the turmoil brewing within the Akademiya, and managed to flee, even with such knowledge, to Fontaine. Here, you have been able to continue your studies from where you left off, as well as pursue your own endeavors in writing, which had long been restricted when you were a student. In fact, it was precisely due to one of your well-received yet controversial pieces in the newspaper that had landed you an opportunity to interview Neuvillette and ask him questions on questions regarding his thoughts on governance, the limitations of rule and government, and checks and balances.

You intended it to be a one-off instance, fully knowing that the Chief Justice is incredibly busy. However, you had a bad habit of losing track of time, and he is more than happy to speak in length, and your first conversation did not end on a fulfilling thought. As a result, for several months on end, you would spend two hours every three weeks with Neuvillette, which, by then, it was more than obvious you had developed intimate feelings for him.

Of course, even though you two are now a couple, the dynamics of your schedule have not differed by much. Neuvillette still has a limited amount of time to see you, though it is permissible for you to make more spontaneous visits to his office, if you are so inclined. But being the studious writer that you are, you still have not acted upon this privilege yet.

“You really should take up more of his time!”

You squint your eyes over the rim of the teacup that you are sipping from, taking several moments to think of a proper response. A part of you is still ruminating over the last draft of your manuscript, something you have been losing sleep over to make it in time for the deadline for The Streambird’s short story contest at the end of the month, but you know you should be more focused on the conversation at hand. After all, while Miss Furina is beloved by the people and is commonly seen out and about, it is still rare for her to request a private audience with someone as little of importance socially, politically, economically as you are.

“Miss Furina, I’m not sure I follow?” is the best you can manage. You take another sip as the celebrity huffs in disappointment.

“How trite! It has been so long since my last visit to the Palais Mermonia, yet even I’ve been made aware of Neuvillette’s situation! Please tell me you at least know of that!”

You open your mouth to release a hum of agreement. “Yes,” you say, “though I am not sure what his condition has to do with his schedule? Wouldn’t it be more advisable for him to go rest, instead of having me bother him?”

“You are incredibly dull, my friend.”

You nod slowly, noting in your head that she is sassier than she lets on, easily overpowered by her stage presence and bright smile. Regardless, you are still not sure if you ae thinking on the same lines as she is.

Miss Furina gives you a few more seconds to think on your own, but seeing the lack of any recognition or realization on your face, she sighs before flinging three sugar cubes into her tea with exasperated movements. She then grumbles, “Neuvillette does not rest until the Melusines kowtow and beg. Could you not at least help save them some face and demand of him to rest a day or two?”

You watch as the sugar begins to dissolve into the tea. When instructed as such, there really is no harm in doing so. You nod again, and Furina yelps with delight, clapping her hands in a circle.

“I try my best to not get involved in his affairs anymore, but perhaps this is just my way of slowly repaying his efforts. Anyway, I need to carry on with the rest of my day. Good luck, friend, and cheers to your union!”

You realize you did not ask the more glaring questions of this conversation. You are not sure how Miss Furina knows of your relationship with the Chief Justice in the first place, or why you are the one settling the bill for lunch. You shrug as you wipe at your mouth with a tissue, thinking of ways to convince your partner on stepping away from his impending cases for at least a few hours.

The solution comes quite easily, frankly speaking. In part of your intense and serious attitude, you are also associated as being very independent, so when you send a note to Neuvillette requesting his assistance later in the evening, he replies immediately in complete compliance. That way, you did not have to risk interrupting him in the midst of his work, while still satisfying Miss Furina’s plea.

In reality, though, you only got lucky because you had happened to remember today’s date. You do not quite recall how you thought of it – it could have been a street sign or a poster that you spotted from your periphery –, but the whole point is that this day used to be very important to you as you grew up. Though you are not upset or even the slightest bit nostalgic, you think it is the perfect excuse to save your partner from undue stress and cacophony.

Thus, you make your way to several shops before returning home with two small boxes and a bag in your hands. There are a few more hours before Neuvillette is to arrive, so you shuffle all of the scattered loose leaf paper into haphazard stacks and stuff your ballpoint pens into your drawers to make room on your desk to wrap the presents you bought.

–

When your partner comes, it is already dark, overcast with dense clouds that pour incessantly. He knocks at your door just as you are stoking the flames in your fireplace, and you pace over to let him in.

You open the door to a very concerned Chief Justice.

“Are you alright?” are his first words.

You cannot help but feel guilty at deceiving your partner.

You place a hand on his arm, which he returns with the same gesture, and you rub soothing circles into the fabric of his coat. “Yes, I managed to figure it out.”

“Are you sure you don’t need me to revise your draft? I am more than willing to, might you think my input may be necessary.”

With gentle tugs, you lead him to your rounded dining table for two, where there are already steaming mugs of tea settling on their matching saucers, and the two of you take your usual seats across from each other.

You feel no need to keep up your lie. “My sincere apologies, Neuvillette, but there’s actually no manuscript you need to help with. The Melusines had specifically asked of me to find a way to extract you from your work, lest you become glued to your chair.” You leave out any mentions of Miss Furina out of respect for her privacy.

“Ah, I see.”

You observe his face, careful for even the faintest of shifts or twitches to anticipate his reactions. But Neuvillette’s impartiality should never be underestimated, and his expression does not change at all.

“Are you upset?” you ask.

He glances at you, having previously been staring into his cup. “Uh, no, I… I suppose I have been dealing with a torrent of work. I apologize for having concerned all of you.”

You set your hands out, and Neuvillette holds them in his palms. You admire the feel of his gloves against your bare skin and watch as he thumbs over your calloused fingers.

You finally manage to hum, “No worries. Though, I have a few things I want to give you, so your visit’s not entirely a waste.”

His grip tightens. “It is never a waste. Forgive me, for neglecting us.”

You chuckle before slipping your hands out of his hold, and patter over to the wrapped presents that sit on the floor to the side of the fireplace.

“Here,” you say, as you set the gifts in front of him.

“What occasion are these for?” he asks, eyes glimmering with fascination. You have always loved Neuvillette’s eyes. While his face may be as set as stone, at times, you can tell fragments of his thoughts by the color and brightness in his eyes.

You have not told him much about your upbringing, and you do not feel inclined to dwell on it tonight either. So, in the briefest way possible, you explain, “When I was growing up, every year on this day, the community I was a part of would exchange gifts. There was also a large feast, with plenty to eat and drink.” You give a light shrug before finishing, “I just thought it would be nice to share a bit of my past with you.”

“I understand,” he replies, eyes and tone soft and gentle. “I’m afraid your presents will have to wait for next year.”

You know time means nothing to him, but his words still melt the rough, unromantic edges within you. You smile to yourself as you watch him unwrap the pen and bejeweled brooch you had bought him. Finally, when he moves onto the bag, you laugh as you see him tear away his gaze before shakily handing you the box from inside.

“This, um, seems to be yours.”

You release an intrigued noise before nudging the box back toward him. “It is still a present for you.”

“How so?” Neuvillette’s cheeks and ears are tinged with a warm red, and you are sure it is not solely because of the fire.

You get up from your chair, round over to his side, and stand beside him. “I forgot to mention,” you tease, “but this day’s particularly special for couples. They celebrate together, spend time together, and… need I say more?”

You and Neuvillette have slept together before, though the number does not exceed single digits despite the two of you having been together for a little less than a year. Such occurrences are usually a result of your or his feverish desires exceeding a certain boiling point, and you suppose this time, you are the insatiable one.

“Look inside,” you instruct with a flick of your chin. “Do you like it?”

Folded neatly inside the box is a red satin tank top and sleep shorts. The color shines brilliantly under the flickering of the flames, and you appreciate the contrast of it against the purple and indigo of Neuvillette’s eyes.

“Yes, o-of course. I’m sure it suits you well,” he mumbles, blush flushing deeper and deeper with every passing second.

You pat his shoulder. “Perfect. I’ll change in the bathroom, so wait for me on the bed.”

If it was really up to you, you would not even change in a separate room. But, for the sake of your easily flustered partner, you show him some mercy and grant him no more than two minutes of reprieve. As Neuvillette said, the set does fit you, in ways other than just size, and you are glad you decided to go the extra length to splurge on lingerie, as it is also a treat for yourself.

When you enter your bedroom, barely concealing the skip in your step, you see Neuvillette seated on the corner of your bed, unmoving. You doubt he has barely even breathed since you left him alone.

“Neuvillette?”

His head shoots up at your call of his name, but he fails to respond. His eyes, which were staring holes into the ground a mere second ago, are now drinking in the sight of you in your new clothes. They linger at the exposure of your neck and collarbones, the outline of your breasts, the flare of the top around your waist, and the contrast of the shorts’ red sheen against the suppleness of your thighs. You find yourself almost feeling shy at his undivided attention, and you rock on your feet, waiting for him to make a move.

Neuvillette only breaks out of his reverie once he has looked over your entirety. “You look mesmerizing,” he praises. He makes it sound like a truth, a new law he has amended into Fontaine’s books, something everyone should know and accept by now. It is your turn to shudder and lose your composure at his words, so you do not even try to respond, and instead, walk over to stand in front of him.

However, he quickly switches your positions, gliding you over to sit and him kneeling between your knees. He presses fleeting kisses on the inners of your knees, before slowly traversing up the length of your right thigh, nuzzling and pressing and licking. You squirm as he sucks on your skin, and gasp at every mark he leaves.

It is unbelievable, you think. Back in Sumeru, you were constantly teased, others mocking and prophesying that you will forever spend this special day alone. Yet, you are grown now, and being lavished and indulged by another, by your lover.

You try your best not to muss Neuvillette’s hair, so you clutch onto his shoulders. Digging your fingernails into the white silk of his shirt, you barely contain your whimpers as your partner begins to approach the heat emanating between your legs. You jump once you feel him press the pad of a finger against your hole, and cannot help but moan as he kisses your clit, the satin of the shorts doing nothing to dull the sensations.

Though Neuvillette’s actions are restrained, limited to only kitten licks and playful flicks with his fingertip, your pleasure compounds at an exceptional rate. By the time he lifts you up to slide your shorts off, you have already stained much of the fabric and are continuing to leak, wetness dripping down your inner thighs and the bottom of your ass.

“Absolutely decadent,” he mumbles, gazing with much adoration and intensity at the way your legs shake and your clit trembles.

Before you can say anything, he takes your breath away as his lips close around your sensitive bud. He taps and laves his tongue against the hood, pressure just enough to choke you from pleasurable stimulation. His hands are wrapped tightly around your thighs, to hold them in place, as well as bite his nails into your skin, although you have no idea when he took his gloves off.

“Neuvillette,” you breathe out. He hums around your clit with a more forceful suck, and you reel over, hunching over his head, hands sliding down his back and crumping his shirt within your grasp. Your partner understands your reaction as a subconscious plea to move on, and so, he licks his way down to your hole. He can feel it open and close around nothing, and it is only then that he is made aware of how painfully hard he is.

You grit out, “More – please.”

He knows he cannot further deny you. He laps at your entrance, entranced by your taste, before finally pushing his tongue in.

You are warm, sweet, incredibly tight. He pulls back, draws a large breath, and dives back in, pushing himself as far in as he can. Since the very beginning, you have been very sensitive, always reacting to even the lightest and briefest of touches, so Neuvillette knows your body must be overwhelmed by everything he is doing to you. He knows this is the case when he leans back on his heels for a quick rest, and sees your face, sweat tracing your hairline and eyes glazed over. For some reason, Neuvillette finds himself growing even larger, even harder, at the sight, and he distracts himself by returning to his place between your legs.

This time, he goes faster, accompanying his tonguing with circles of his finger around your clit. He can also hear you muffling your noises with the back of your hand.

“Please, let me hear you,” he says, between movements of his mouth and hand. “I need to know that you are feeling good.”

You are so used to practicing restraint and discipline, so you hesitate at first. But when Neuvillette presses your clit in that exact way you like and tongues you so deeply, you moan out loud, giving in regardless of your own wishes. And because he is incredible, precise, with analyzing your needs, he keeps doing it, giving you what you crave and desire over and over and over again, until you are brought over the edge.

Neuvillette groans as your hole flutters around his tongue, more of your taste filling his mouth, and he drinks in whatever he can. At this point, you are holding his head against your body, almost bucking your hips to close whatever distance is left, so that you can extend your high.

By the time the two of you peel apart from each other, you are about to unzip his pants before you notice a stain. You look at Neuvillette’s face, only to find him with a flushed, euphoric expression, and you feel surprise and delight wash over you.

“We will continue tomorrow morning, if that is alright with you,” he says, a little out of breath. You, too, are still heaving, so you nod in agreement.

Back at home, this day was spent with several people under a clear night. You would all be gossiping, dancing, discussing, and by the end of it, you would exchange gifts, though for most of it, you were left to your own devices, reading storybooks in whatever dimly lit corner you could find. This time around, though it is raining outside and there is no one else besides you and Neuvillette, you think this is the best celebration you could ever have. You would not wish for anything else, as long as you have him.

winter event masterlist

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #genshin smut #neuvillette #genshin impact neuvillette #genshin neuvillette #neuvillette genshin #neuvillette genshin impact #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette fluff #neuvillette smut #carrot cake!#house of solis occasum #nereids' realm

82 notes · View notes

silencesscreams · 2 days ago

Note

hiii, idk if ur still active but I love ur writing and I was wondering if u could maybe do a james smut with a Christmas theme! tyyy💓

Merry Christmas, I miss you

james potter x f!reader

summary: you and James have been broken up since Halloween. Until he calls you on Christmas Day after finding out that you both were spending the evening alone. (muggle+modern day au)

warnings: use of y/n, reader is shorter than James, swearing, smut (MDNI!), afab reader, nipple sucking, oral/fingering (f receiving), praise!!!, penetration, multiple orgasms(2), slight dom!james, reader has hair long enough to be stroked, kind of make-up sex tbh, unprotected + use of the pill, creampie, not proofread at all 😭

a/n: thank you so so much for requesting! I immediately thought of this song, hope you like it <3

You hated spending Christmas alone.

When your family was getting plane tickets two months ago, you said you’d spend Christmas with James, who also cancelled his plans with his family, just for him to break up with you two weeks later.

There was no one you could spend the end of year holidays with, all of your friends were with their families or together.

James absolutely hated the silence in his apartment.

Sirius and Remus were spending the holiday together at cabin they found online and Peter had gone home to his family.

James hated having brought this upon himself.

Were you with somebody else out there? Were you meeting their family? Were they in your apartment?

It was killing him.

What he hated most of all was breaking up with you during a stupid fight which he didn’t even remember the reason why it happened. He just remembers being drunk and stupid.

So he called Sirius, because that was what he usually did when things went to shit, and also because Sirius was close to you and he would probably know what James had been asking himself for the past hour.

The phone rang about six times until he finally picked up.

“What do you want?”

“What do you think y/n is doing right now?” He heard Sirius groan.

“Why do you care about what she’s doing?” James didn’t answer. “She’s alone at her place, don’t call her.”

“You think I should call her?” He decided to ignore any advice that went against whatever he wanted.

“God, he’s so fucking confusing.” he heard Remus say.

“Moony, do you think I should call her?”

“James, you’re going to do whatever you want, aren’t you?”

“Always, but that’s not the point.”

“Do what your heart says and leave us alone pleeeeaseee!” Sirius said and hung up.

James dialed your number on his phone, he memorized it so there was no real meaning to why he deleted it a while ago.

When you read the name on your phone’s screen once it started vibrating you thought you’d faint.

You wished that he had butt dialed you, or that maybe he called the wrong person. You knew you were wrong.

“James?” You said as you picked up and paused the TV in front of you.

“y/n. Hi, merry Christmas.” He sat up straight on the couch. “What are you doing?”

You couldn’t believe him.

“What?” You asked, even though you heard him clearly the first time.

“What are you doing tonight?”

So he was booty calling you on Christmas, was that it?

“I’m currently watching every single sitcom Christmas episode I can think of. You?”

“I’ve been staring at the ceiling for the past three hours. Are you by yourself?”

“Yes.” You replied, almost whispering. You couldn’t understand him.

“Me too. Can I come pick you up? We could maybe watch every single sitcom Christmas episode together. I have some food here.” He was already getting up and putting on his shoes outside of the apartment.

“Sure.”

You sighed after hanging up, what could go wrong? You’d go, you’d eat his food, you wouldn’t hook up with him and you’d be home by midnight. It was fine. Everything was under control.

Until you got into his car.

Until you felt his smell, the three in one shampoo that had the sweetest smell a three in one shampoo could ever have.

“Hey, you look great.” He said, looking at you as you put on the seatbelt.

“Thanks, you too.”

“Did you change your hair?” James asked, starting to drive.

“Kind of, yes.” You looked out the window and then back at him. “You look the same.”

He let out a small laugh. “I do.”

It was usually a 10 minute drive from your apartment to his, in which you awkwardly played with the hem of your skirt and made small talk.

“I have some frozen pizza at home, we could make popcorn too if you like, I bought one of those air popping machine things a few weeks ago. Actually, Sirius got that.” He said as he parked the car on the empty street in front of the apartment complex.

“I’d like that.”

Maybe you believed everything was still in control until you entered his apartment, the floor was cold and you left your shoes at the door. He locked it behind you.

“You remember the place don’t you?” You nodded. “There’s a few blankets and a sweater on the couch and you can turn on the TV if you want to. I’ll take the pizza out of the freezer and get the popcorn machine ready.”

You decided on starting with The Office’s season two Christmas episode, then you watch the other eight. Or you’d move to New Girl, then maybe Brooklyn 99, possibly Seinfeld.

“Bad news!” You heard James say from the kitchen. “Theres no corn to pop” he said, coming out and looking at you sitting on the couch.

“It’s alright, how about we watch this one and then I can help you out with the pizza?” You moved to the right side of the couch, inviting him to sit on your left.

You did realize you had no control over anything once he sat and instinctively wrapped his left arm around your shoulder. That might’ve also been when he realized he had no control.

“What are we watching?” He asked as you covered your legs with the blanket on the couch, he pulled some of it to himself and shared with you, your knees touching under it.

“I thought we could start by the office, we obviously won’t watch all of them, so we can move to New Girl afterwards, then maybe we could do Brooklyn 99 or Seinfeld because I know you like those two.” You looked at him and he hummed.

“That’s a good plan.” You smiled at him and started the episode.

When Micheal started talking about the Yankee Swap, James took his left arm from off your shoulder and put it under the covers to scratch his calf. You missed the feeling of him over your shoulders, until he rested his hand on your upper knee.

You felt your entire body go hot until the end of the episode, when he took the blanket from off you both and supported himself on your thigh to get up from the couch, ‘accidentally’ giving it a light squeeze. You thought you were about to go insane and paused the TV, maybe it really was a Christmas booty call.

“I only have pepperoni, if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t.”

“Can you put it in the oven? I’ll get us something to drink.”

“Sure.” He brushed his hand against your waist as he moved behind you to open the fridge.

“There’s Diet Coke, wine and orange juice.” He looked back at you.

“Wine.” You answered, watching him take the bottle out along with a can of Coke.

“Aren’t you going to drink with me?” You grabbed two glasses from the cupboard and moved next to him.

“I have to drive you home.” He smiled at you.

“Maybe you shouldn’t.” You smiled back at him.

“I can’t let you walk or uber home.” He put your hair behind your ear.

“I could crash here, if there’s space for me.” You almost whispered, looking at him doe eyed.

“There’s always space for you in my bed.” He stated, his voice low as he poured wine into both of the glasses.

He watched you take a sip and realized you were holding back a laugh.

“What is it?” He smiled.

“This sucks.” You giggled softly. He took a sip from his glass and made a face.

“Oh my god,” he laughed “you have to blame Remus though, I don’t think I bought wine more than once in my entire life.” You smiled, remembering the bottle he brought to your house on your third date. He moved closer to you, resting his hands on your waist.

“I’m sorry about the wine.” He whispered and you felt his breathing against your face, you hummed and looked up at him, moving your hands to the back of his neck, gently stroking his hair.

“Fuck.” He whispered, looking into your eyes. He slowly leaned in, you could feel your heartbeat as he got closer to you. You felt his lips brush against yours and then his phone’s alarm went off, scaring the both of you.

“The damn pizza” he muttered, turning off the oven but not taking the food out. You leaned against the counter and looked at James, who put his hands on your waist again, asking you “Where were we?”, making you laugh for the first time in a while.

You threw your hands over his neck as he hugged you so tightly that you thought maybe you both could merge into one.

“I missed you.” You whispered into his ear.

“Yeah?” He teased you and you hummed. “I missed you so much, love.” He started kissing your neck, holding you tightly by your lower waist.

“I’m so sorry. For everything.” He pulled away, looking into your eyes. “Let me make it up to you, please.” You nodded.

He brought his lips to yours and kissed you quickly.

“Use your words.” He muttered against your mouth and your breath hitched.

“Yes, please.” You replied and he brought his lips back against yours, this time you parted your mouth and he let his tongue slip into it. His lips moved hungrily against yours, the hands on your waist quickly moving to cup your ass firmly. Before you knew it, you were moving against him, glad you’d chosen to wear a skirt as breathy moans slipped from your lips against his.

All of a sudden James pulled his lips away from yours,

“Go to my room, I’ll be there in a second.” He said, pointing to the corridor.

You left the door open and sat on his bed, waiting for him. Everything was the same, except for the photograph of the both of you he had framed and left on his desk, which was now nowhere to be seen. He came into the room with something behind his back.

“I got this for you in November, in case we saw each other today. I know it’s not much but it reminded me of you.” He handed you a black corduroy box, which had a gold necklace with a small heart pendant.

“Oh James, this is so pretty.” You looked at him smiling and closing the box and putting it on his nightstand “I’ll put it on later, thank you so much.”

“Let me make everything up to you, I truly am sorry.” He said, taking off his glasses and sitting in front of you on the bed. You put your hands behind his neck and pulled him in, kissing him gently as he moved closer to you, his knee between your legs.

You laid down and his mouth started to make its way to your neck, giving it soft kisses then gently biting and sucking, making sure to leave a few marks. Meanwhile, his hands trailed their way to your breasts, going under your already loose bra and playing with your nipples. He quickly helped you take off your shirt, also removing his own.

James quickly kissed your mouth and started to trail small kisses from it to your right nipple, which he brought to his mouth and sucked on, nipping at it with his front teeth every once in a while, meanwhile his left hand stimulated your other nipple.

Your hands moved to his hair, stroking it and tugging on it every once in a while, leading to groans that would send vibrations to your breasts.

Suddenly, he pressed his knee against your damp underwear as you desperately tried to get more friction from it, until he held down your hips.

“Let me help you, baby.” he hummed against your chest. “I’m going to take care of you, don’t worry.”

He helped you take off your skirt as you raised your hips, tossing it next to the bed and kissing your tummy, making his way down to your underwear, lowering it and kissing the skin right above your slit, almost where you needed him the most. He started to kiss your inner thighs, going up to your clothed core, pressing another kiss right on top of your covered clit, making you moan as he took off your panties, carefully placing them on top of your skirt on the floor.

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispered, his breath fanning against your pussy.

He started slowly at first, licking from your entrance to your clit, sucking it in the most careful way he could. Until you couldn’t hold back your moaning and you remembered how James Potter gave head like a starved man.

He held your thighs open as he sucked on your sensitive bud and fucked two fingers into you, making your back arch and causing you release the most incoherent sentences from your mouth, a mix of swearing, the word god and his name, but really, in that moment, the later two were probably the same to you.

Your hands tugged onto his hair as you reached your high, he looked up at you and kept stimulating your clit with his thumb, inserting a third finger into your hole.

“Cum for me, honey.” He said, sensing you were close to your high and going back to sucking your bud.

Your eyes rolled back in pleasure as you moaned out his name, squeezing his head in between your thighs as he carried you through your orgasm.

Once you were finished, James moved up to kiss you. His mouth moving hungrily against yours.

“I want you.” you said as you pulled away, looking into his eyes.

“You already have me, sweetheart.” He smiled, getting up to get something to clean you up with. You pulled him back by the wrist.

“No, I want you in me. Please. ‘Need more.” You said lowly, giving him a quick peck.

“You sure?” You knew he wanted it too, he just wanted to make you feel good and forget about himself for the rest of the night.

“Yes, please James.” You replied, pulling him by the wrist again once he went to reach for a condom in the nightstand drawer. “I want to feel you. I’m on the pill, please.”

He smiled, taking off his sweatpants and going on top of you, his knees pressed against the mattress next to your thighs as he kissed you, tilting your head to deepen it.

He started kissing your neck, giving soft pecks on the marks he had left behind earlier, while taking his length out of his underwear and lining himself up against your entrance, teasing you with his tip as you practically begged him to get inside of you.

“Patience, baby.” He muttered, slowly starting to thrust into your needy hole whilst pulling your right leg up and bending it, almost making your leg shin touch your thigh as he tried to go as deep as possible.

You couldn’t help but moan out his name once he started thrusting and kept hitting the most perfect spot he could whilst stimulating your bean with his thumb. You clenched around his cock as he started to thrust rapidly into you.

“That’s it baby, you’re doing so good.” He’d whisper in between grunts in your ear while you scratched his back in pleasure. “So- mhm so good for me, baby.” He said, his mouth clashing against yours, his tongue entering your mouth as you opened it. You clenched your pussy around him and you both can’t help but moan into each other’s mouths, his thrusts getting faster and his grunts and moans only louder, showing you how close he also is.

You felt your second orgasm building up as he pinched your clit and you squealed onto his tongue, your teeth clashing, causing him to pull away and smile against your mouth, his teeth against your lips.

“Are you close, princess?” He whispered and you replied with a nod, your nose against his cheek. He thrusted quickly and made circular motions on your clit at the same pace. “Hm, cum for me baby, cum on my cock.” He commanded as you reached your second high, pulling him in by the back of his neck to kiss you again. The kiss was sloppy as he shot his load into you and you clenched around him, his thrusts faltering.

He collapsed right next to you, grabbing his glasses on the bedside table to look at you properly.

“You’re so beautiful.” He praised you, smiling as he stroked your hair. “Thank you for picking up. Thank you for being here. For everything.” He whispered.

“Thank you for calling.” You smiled.

“The pizza’s probably cold.” He muttered, looking at his bedroom door.

“I don’t care.” You gave him a peck. “Merry Christmas, James.”

“Merry Christmas, love.”

#lila writes #silencesscreams #james potter x reader #james potter #james potter fic #james potter x y/n #james potter smut #james potter oneshot #james potter fanfiction #james potter x you #james potter imagine #james fleamont potter #James potter x reader smut

112 notes · View notes

castillon02 · 1 day ago

Text

“You ‘have amnesia,’” Dr. Sharma repeated, her eyebrows arched.

“Oh yes,” Q said. He cheerfully waved his hand at his bandaged head. “Mugged this morning. Terribly traumatic. Physically, not mentally, since I don’t remember any of it, of course.”

Dr. Sharma’s eye twitched. “I see.” Over the past year of therapy, she had grown inured to Q’s shite, but this was perhaps a new level of it for her. “Amnesia,” she repeated.

Q beamed. “Judging by the dark circles under my eyes, this seems like a bit of an opportunity for a fresh start anyway,” he said. “Past me looks overworked.”

Dr. Sharma had been trying to get him a holiday for the past four months. Her “I see,” every time M had denied his request for leave had become steadily sharper. Now her eyes gleamed. “Amnesia,” she said, smiling wider than Q had ever seen.

(Also on AO3)

—

“Amnesia,” M said, squinting at him from behind his desk. “Really, Q?”

“M,” Q replied, tasting the name as if he’d just learned it. “Seems a bit funny to work for a letter, but I suppose my past self had his reasons.” He leaned back in his chair and cast his eyes around the room as if those reasons might be visible if he looked for them.

M’s hand twitched toward the security button on his desk lamp. “You answer to the letter Q,” he pointed out. “You clearly remember some things.”

“The name Q has silent vowels,” Q said, straight-faced. “Q-U-E-U-E. A long line in A&E is the first thing I remember experiencing, so it seemed fitting. You know, waiting for something that never seems to come gives you a lot of time to think.”

M glared. “If this is about your leave—”

“I am leaving, yes,” Q interrupted. “I even have the paperwork filed for Queue Smith, since apparently you lot do that here.” He quirked his eyebrows. “You still haven’t told me what I do, exactly, but I assume it’s some form of tech support, not anything crucial. Something other people have been trained in.” Like Q had been training R and X for the past six months, for instance. Specifically to deal with M’s bizarre separation anxiety.

“You are actually one of our most valuable assets,” M gritted out, clearly aware that said valuable asset was a lying liar who was lying to him at that very moment.

Q smiled. “What a shame I can’t remember anything, then,” he said. “No value whatsoever now. In fact, Dr. Sharma distinctly said I was as useless as a pin-pricked prophylactic, and the rest of the medical department agreed with her.”

M’s eyes narrowed and he sat a little straighter. “Dr. Simmons would never go along with this.”

“Dr. Simmons thought the whole thing was very novel,” Q disagreed. “In fact, he said amnesia might be under-diagnosed, particularly in injured field agents being recalled for missions.”

M frowned. “How patient-centric of him.”

“Oh, terribly.” Straightlaced Simmons, head of Medical, didn’t always see eye to eye with Q, but they both prioritized the health of the people under their care. M wouldn’t find anyone in-house who would challenge Sharma’s diagnosis. Now for the killing blow: “Everyone says that if I’m lucky and have a nice long rest, then I might remember some things. But who knows? Amnesia is unpredictable. I could be out of the game for good.” Q gave an innocent shrug.

“It can be dangerous, walking around ignorant in the world,” M said.

“Maybe,” Q said. “But I got mugged while I was working here with all my memories intact, so really, nowhere is safe, is it? Might as well be unsafe in the Maldives.” Q gave M his most beatific expression. It was rather cute of M to threaten him with being killed, as though Q didn’t have a dead man’s switch for exactly that contingency.

M gave him a long look but eventually sighed. “I’ll put you on an indefinite medical leave. Don’t do something stupid with your free time.”

Q stood. “I’ll do whatever I please. Since that is, in fact, the point of the term ‘free time.’”

—

Q spent five days eating take-away and playing Elden Ring in his pajamas. On the sixth day, he had enough energy to move, so he took the train and then a bus to a little town in Andalusia, dreaming of egg-and-potato fry-ups and sunny olive tree-laden views.

Warmth. Sunshine. Red roofs and white stone buildings. An outdoor cafe where he could drink his tea and people watch.

Down the street, a wrinkled old woman stooped down to scratch a brindled dog whose whiptail flew back and forth at the attention. Q watched them until they rounded a corner out of sight. When he brought his gaze back to his own table, Bond was sitting across from him. Shite.

“Amnesia,” Bond said. His eyes crinkled at the corners.

Q stared him down. “I’m sorry, do I know you?” If Bond asked about a mission, Q was going to send him back to R and X for replacement corneas.

But Bond shook his head. “You can call me James. We don’t know each other outside of work,” he said. “I thought we could change that.” Bond gave him a half-smile, somehow sheepish—different from his Target Acquired smile. His bright yellow I Heart España t-shirt was more camouflage than Q had ever seen him in.

“Caminito del Rey has beautiful vistas,” Bond added, his blue eyes locked on Q’s. “Or I know a place with good tapas if you’d rather eat than hike.”

This might be a work-shaped trap. But there wasn’t any tech in the Gaitanes Ravine, and yellow wasn’t the color Bond wore when he went anglerfishing. Additionally, traversing a treacherous one-meter-wide walkway carved into a rock face a hundred meters above a river sounded like it was genuinely Bond’s idea of a good time. “If we went hiking,” Q said, “it wouldn’t be efficient. I take pictures of cool bugs. I lollygag to look at spiderwebs. I get distracted by rock formations.”

“If I wanted efficient,” Bond said, “I’d wait until you ‘got your memory back.’” He offered Q a wry tilt of his mouth. “I have it on good information that you’re currently useless, and I don’t expect we’ll need any of your skills from the office.”

Bless the medical staff’s ability to gossip. Q exhaled and slouched a little. “You’re really here just because?” he asked.

Bond shrugged. “We’re good at being useful together. I thought we might be good at being useless together too. If you like.” He tilted his head.

Q stood without answering.

Bond stood with him. His designer blue jeans stretched flatteringly around his thighs. No concealed carry. His watch wasn’t one of Q’s. He had a knife in his boot, but that was sensible enough. His t-shirt showed off tan arms criss-crossed with pale scars and a smattering of graying hair. He had a red España bucket hat tucked into his belt.

007 on holiday.

Q smiled. “Lead the way.” He extended his hand.

Bond took it. In the center of a rural village steeped in machismo culture, Bond held his hand. “I have a car,” he said, and they walked, still linked at the fingers, to where Bond had parked his entirely normal Mitsubishi Mirage rental. Good god; a hatchback. Not even four-wheel drive. Bond was really giving this ‘useless’ thing a genuine effort.

If this went well, Q would have to send 006 a basket of explosives. Rather than leaving his mugging-based amnesia up to fate, he’d rather desperately arranged for a surreptitious blow to the head from one of Six’s experts in cranial violence. He hadn’t expected that his memory loss would lead to something so lovely.

#00Q #mi6cafechallenge #festive fanwork fiesta #castillon writes

67 notes · View notes

thezombieprostitute · 3 hours ago

Text

Taking Care of You

A/N: Written for @the-slumberparty's December Daze Challenge.

Prompt: hot chocolate/apple cider/tea and a nice book

Warnings: Implied smut, Language, Pregnancy. Please let me know if I'm missing any!

Series Masterlist

You were sitting on the couch, wrapped up in a blanket, alternating between watching the snow fall and reading your book while drinking cider made from the apples you and Steve had picked earlier in the year. Back before you knew you were pregnant.

Your smile widens at the memory of Steve trying to tell you about it. That it was the reason he'd been in such a territorial, protective mood. You weren't upset with him but you did ask about a pregnancy test or two to confirm. He understood and not only got you the pregnancy tests but also got you a doctor appointment to confirm. Sure enough, you were about a month along then.

Since then Steve has been going into overdrive to make sure you and the baby are safe and comfortable. Emphasis on the comfortable. You never thought you'd go for the kind of man that takes care of almost literally everything for you, but Steve might be changing your mind on that. He somehow manages to be around all the time without feeling suffocating. Even when you go into town together and he's in full on guard mode. If anything, his caring, protective side just makes your hormones go even more out of control.

As if on cue, Steve comes into the living room from his workshop. He's been working on a handmade crib for the little one, insisting he wants the pup to be surrounded by familial scents. He must have worked up a sweat because his shirt is off and you lick your lips at his exposed torso. You gently squeeze your thighs together and he gives you a knowing look.

"Does my girl need some attention?" he almost growls.

"Please, Steve," you whine.

"Tell me what you need, Doll."

"I need you to fuck me, Steve," you whimper. "I need you to fill my pussy with your cock, please!"

Steve's pupils are blown as he starts unwrapping you from your blankets. "It'll cost you, you know."

"What's the price?" you moan. The blankets are off and his hands are pushing down your sweatpants.

"First I get to eat your pussy like it's my last meal."

A shiver runs down your spine as you whimper, "yes, please."

You're woken up by the sound of Steve's voice. You feel a slight pressure on your stomach and, after blinking a few times, you realize Steve is talking to the small bump created by the baby.

"I have no idea what I'm doing," he confesses to the baby bump. "But I promise I'll do whatever it takes to make sure you and your mama are safe and happy." He pauses for a few moments. "That being said, we gotta have a talk about your eating habits. I get that you want a lot of protein but you need to let Mama eat some vegetables. You both need the nutrients. It can't be steak, pork chops, and ham all the time. Though you do seem to accept soups and stir fry. Maybe Mama can teach me how to make those so she can rest some more. Don't think I haven't noticed how tired she's gotten. Seriously, you gotta let her eat some veggies."

His one-sided conversation is interrupted by your giggles.

"Excuse you," he playfully chides, "I'm having a conversation here."

"You're talking to my belly," you counter.

"I'm talking to our baby, thank you."

You both smile softly when he says that. You gesture for him to move in close for a kiss and he acquiesces.

"And I know you're going to be a great dad," you assure him, making his cheeks turn pink.

"We won't know for certain until the baby is here."

"Trust me," you hug him. "You're already working hard to make sure this baby has a great start in life. You've even been reaching out to other werewolves, something you've never done before, just to ask about things for me and the baby. You swallowed your pride for us. That's no small endeavor."

Steve nuzzles his beard against your neck. "Thank you for giving me a much better, richer life than I ever thought I'd get."

"My pleasure, Steve."

Series Masterlist

Tagging: @alicedopey; @darsynia; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @irishhappiness; @lokislady82; @ronearoundblindly; @thiquefunlover63

#navy and roo's sleepover #werewolf!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #werewolf au #steve rogers x female!reader #werewolf!steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x pregnant!reader

39 notes · View notes

fae-renjun · 1 day ago

Text

...AND EVERY CHRISTMAS AFTER — o.so

PAIRING oh sion x fem!reader ── .✦ GENRE childhood friends to lovers, fluff, very mild angst ── .✦ WARNINGS just kissing, the most fluff i've ever written ── .✦ SYNOPSIS in which you’ve spent every christmas growing up with sion, and if you’re lucky, you’ll spend every christmas after with him too. ── .✦ A/N this is my entry for the @k-films 2024 advent calendar! ── .✦ WC 1.4k+

⋆⁺₊❅.─ 25th december 2024, 11:27am

It’s Christmas day, and the whole house is alive and in a hurry. Shouts of “mom, where’s my sweater?” and “get out! I need to use the bathroom!” fill the air, drowning out George Michael’s voice in Last Christmas as it plays from the living room speakers. Frantic relatives rush through the hallways past fairy lights and fake wreaths to get ready for the guests to arrive. It’s the first year in your life that the guests haven’t stayed over on Christmas eve.

“Y/N, can you make me hot chocolate?” shouts Sakuya from the floor above. “Why would I?” you reply to the brother in question. “I’ll do your dishes tonight.” “Deal.”

While you stir away at the two cups of hot chocolate in front of you, it becomes difficult to get your mind off the foreboding you’d felt in the pit of your stomach since waking up that day. You love your family, you really do. Winter break has been beyond fun with your cousins in town. But just this once you wish you could spend Christmas at your friend’s party instead. Just so you could avoid him. You still don’t have it in you to face him. Not after last December.

Almost as if your thoughts hold summoning powers, the doorbell rings, “Kids, come to the living room, they’re here!”

You walk out of the kitchen to face the family of your mother’s best friend, including her son: Oh Sion. The boy you hadn’t seen since new years, when you took a chance and kissed him and he didn't kiss back. The boy who stared back in disbelief after you pulled away which was more than enough to add to your mortification. The boy you’d made every effort to avoid all year.

⋆⁺₊❅.─ 24th december 2016, 7:54pm

“They’re so stupid, why would they use that door?”

“The point of the movie is that they’re stupid Sion.”

“Okay, but-”

Before the argument you’re having over Home Alone can go on any longer, your mother shushes both of you, “be quieter, everyone else is trying to watch the movie too.”

You lock eyes with Sion and then both of you turn back to your mother, “Now you’re just lying mom.”

“Yeah Mrs.L/N, it’s a kids movie, none of the adults here care. Not even you.”

“And Saku isn’t even old enough to know what’s going on.”

Your mother reopens her mouth as if to say something, but then seems to change her mind, smiling at the two of you and shaking her head. The two of you turn back to the movie as she turns to Sion’s mom, saying something about how no matter how much the pair of you bickered, you had a habit of standing up for yourselves together. If nine-year-old you cared to listen, you would have heard them say they hoped you two stayed this way forever.

It’s Christmas eve, you’re sitting next to a boy you would realise you loved 5 years later, and your mothers already think you are meant to be.

⋆⁺₊❅.─ 25th december 2024, 12:02pm

Since he got here, you had avoided eye contact, excused yourself to finish making hot chocolate, excused yourself to go to the bathroom, excused yourself to set up the lunch table. Alas, there were only so many excuses you could make before being forced to sit in the living room with everyone else. By some Christmas miracle, when you got there the only open seat was the one right next to Sion.

Sion shifted to the side, making more space for you to sit, but instead you maneuvered yourself to sit on the carpeted floor right next to the Christmas tree. You manage to get through a lot of the wait time before lunch by eating candy, drinking your hot chocolate, only speaking when asked a question (usually “yes my studies are going great” or “yes, I've started looking at a few colleges”), and most importantly by looking everywhere except at him. Yet, your mother just had to shatter your nearly flawless streak of avoidance.

“Y/N, why don’t you get some hot chocolate for Sion too?”

⋆⁺₊❅.─ 25th december 2021, 1:27am

“Shhh, they’ll hear!” you whisper-yelled at him.

“I didn’t even say anything!”

You just shook your head in response and reached over to redirect the light from the phone in his hand to the stairs in front of you, tiptoeing down, hoping the wood underfoot won’t creak. The boy next to you grabs your hand with his free one, pulling the two of you closer together than you were before. You stare at the hands and then at his face.

Sion leans to reach your ear to whisper, “I thought I heard something from upstairs.”

All you do is nod in response and continue carefully making your way down. Sion’s face stays close to yours, his hand continues to envelope your own.

You reach the entrance to the kitchen at the bottom of the stairs, turning on its lights. Sion takes his hand off yours, coughing awkwardly as he moves away and turns off his phone's flashlight. You head to the shelf in the furthest corner, getting on your toes in an attempt to reach the cookies right at the top. Sion approaches from behind leaning over you to reach the cookies easily. The gesture and the proximity make your fourteen-year-old heart flutter.

He takes a seat on the floor, placing the cookies down, just as you do the same with the cola you pulled out of the fridge.

“I can’t imagine a Christmas without you. Or uh- you know. Without all of this,” he says quietly.

“Me neither,” you respond, just as quietly.

It’s Christmas day, you’re sitting on your kitchen floor with a boy, and you’re beginning to realise you may not just have a silly crush on him. You might just be in love.

⋆⁺₊❅.─ 25th december 2024, 12:27pm

The kitchen has always been just out of earshot of the main living room area. The voices of both of your families fade into the background as the two of you walk in, the rapid beating of your heart becoming louder by the second and filling your ears. You start making the hot chocolate as he leans on the counter next to you, trying (and failing) to meet your eyes.

“You’ve been avoiding me. Not just today, all year. Since new year’s.”

“I don’t really want to talk about new year’s.”

“Hm?” he hums with a questioning tone.

You stop stirring, finally meeting his eyes, “It was just- you know. A mistake. Drank a little too much. Won’t happen again.”

“We only had one beer each that night. I know your tolerance is higher than that. And I’d like it to happen again.”

There’s a pause. You process what he’s just said to you. Sion can tell by the look on your face that the cogs are turning in your head and a smirk begins to form on his face.

“Oh.”

He nods, then after another pause you continue, “But you didn’t kiss back.”

“Because I was surprised! You’ve got to give a guy a second to figure out what’s going on before you assume the worst,” he shakes his head in mock disappointment while he smiles at your stunned expression, “I was surprised you liked me back.”

“You liked me?” “I might actually be in love with you.”

“Oh,” your voice now reduced to a whisper out of shock, “I might be in love with you too.”

Now your body turns to face him fully, just as his hand moves to your cheek. He leans down, his lips meeting yours as your hands go to his sides, grabbing his sweater. You’ve kissed people before but with Sion it’s different (especially when he kisses back). You pull apart for breath, “Ok now this is our first kiss, the new year's one doesn't count.” You laugh in response, “Deal.”

Sion engulfs you in a hug, the warm kind he’s always given you. His arms wrap around your waist as yours encircle his neck. As you hug the two of you confess how much you missed each other all year. When the hug breaks he kisses you again and you can feel the smile on his lips.

All of a sudden your attention is brought back to your previous task, realising the hot chocolate must be getting cold. Sion watches you with adoration in his eyes as you turn back to the counter to finish stirring. The adoration has always been there, you’re just beginning to notice it.

It’s christmas day, you’re standing in your kitchen with the boy you love, and you finally know he loves you just the same. You’re excited for new years day, and every christmas after, because each one will be spent with him.

34 notes · View notes

phoebe-delia · 3 days ago

Text

I'm Beginning to See the Light: An Eight Drarry Nights Story

Hello hello hello! It's that time of year again!

Yes, I know most of us are in the Christmas spirit, but tomorrow is the first night of Hanukkah! For those who don't know, I'm Jewish, and I've got a little tradition of writing fics for each night of Hanukkah. I usually accept prompts and gift drabbles to the requester, but this year I thought I'd mix things up.

I've got my very first multi-chap story! The snippet below is a pretty good summary of what to expect, but this fic features: Teddy being adorable, fluff, Hanukkah celebrations (duh), good flirting, bad flirting, 80s music, idiots in love, some light angst, a truly oblivious Harry, and so, so much pining. I think it'll be around 10k total, spread out over 8 chapters.

Special shout out to my beloved darling @basicallyahedgehog, without whom I'd be completely lost. I'm not sure I'd have posted this fic, or any other fic in the last year or two without them; I'm not even joking. "Thank you" doesn't begin to cover it, but it's what I've got. So, thank you. And I love you MORE! And MOST! TIMES INFINITY!!

Posting starts tomorrow! Here's a small snippet from Chapter 1.

It was Andromeda’s doing, this arrangement. Draco and Harry—independently, and then together once they became friends—spent years offering to babysit Teddy for longer than an afternoon. But Andy declined each time, waving a hand and saying, “Don’t you worry about it.”

Turns out, all it took was Alain—sweet, caring and dashing Alain with his silver hair and gentle hands—to sweep her off her feet.

“He’s lovely,” and even Andy’s tone was blushing. “With Teddy, of course, and— and with me.”

So when Alain gifted her with a week’s vacation for the holidays, Harry and Draco joined forces once more. This time, she didn’t even pretend to put up a fight.

“Why don’t you both stay here?” Andromeda offered. “There’s plenty of space, too, if you want to have guests. It’s been ages since this house has seen any real fun.” Then, quieter, and looking directly at Harry, she said, “Just in time for Hanukkah, too. I believe Remus’ menorah is in the back closet.”

A few days later, they're eating pizza on paper plates in the dining room in Grimmauld Place. Harry’s mind strays to Sirius, and then Remus, and he thinks they’d approve.

#Eight Drarry Nights 2024 #drarry #harry potter #draco malfoy

31 notes · View notes

pixie-felix · 2 hours ago

Text

a/n: this fic has nothing to do with food.

why yes I did make these GIFs especially for this fic thank you for noticing

Something to read while we're waiting for the results of the no thoughts/hard thoughts poll. If you want a soundtrack, Hey Daddy (Daddy's Home) by Usher fits pretty well (no daddy kink in the fic though).

Smut under the cut, minors dni.

comfort eating.

You’d been staring at this damn code for so long you might’ve burned it into your eyeballs. Somewhere, in the distance, you’re vaguely aware of the apartment door opening and closing, and someone calling out that they're home.

But by now you’re so obsessed with trying to find whatever formatting fuck up you made, that even the metallic jingle of keys falling into the “let’s-not-lose-this-shit” bowl doesn’t bring you back into the real world.

It’s not until your laptop physically moves out of your hands that you realise. Chan is home.

Sitting on his heels in front of you, he gently picks the computer up off your lap, his expression a mixture of concern and understanding. One workaholic recognises another.

“Is everything backed up?” He too knows the pain of a well meaning friend trying to help by tidying up, and accidentally erasing hours of hard work.

“Cloud and hard drive. And external hard drive. Possibly tattooed on my retinas also." He nods and carefully sets it on the side table, snorting quietly when you get to the part about your eyeballs. The little crease between his brows remains though.

“You told me you were going to take today off…”

You'd only meant to do a few lines of code, just to check for errors and maybe add a function or two. And yet here you are, sitting in the exact same spot from this morning, neck and shoulders aching from being hunched over your laptop for…

7 hours.

Chan rests his chin on your knees, head tilted to the side as he looks up at you like a lost puppy.

“Baby…”

No. Wait. Puppies don't sound like that. Or look at you like that. Or rub soothing, promising circles with their thumbs on the bare skin of your calves.

You're suddenly very aware still in your pajamas. If you can call it that. Really it's just one of Chan's old t-shirts, the fabric worn soft, always smelling like him even though you slept in it- and not much else.

Yeah, Chan's definitely not giving you puppy eyes.

The wolf is here tonight.

And he wants to play. You can tell from the subtle smirk that quirks the corner of his mouth when you audibly swallow.

“How… how was work?”

“Long. Busy. Tiring.” He punctuates his sentences with slow kisses on your knees, the closed mouth kind that still manage to feel anything but chaste. “Jisung dyed his hair blue. Felix's is no longer blond. Hyunjin cut all his hair off. Someone said something about a kiwi fruit and now the stylists are all freaking out.”

His tone is light, almost absent minded, but his touch has progressed from soothing circles to something a little firmer, a little more… demanding. And as his hands slowly creep up your legs, you're fairly certain you know what he wants.

“Chan…”

“Yes, baby?” His lips stretch into something that could almost pass for an innocent smile, if it wasn't for the fact his fingers have worked their way up to the hem of his t-shirt, slowly teasing the fabric further up your legs.

“Wh-what are you doing?”

“Well…” his fingers sweep under the fabric, inching closer and closer to where arousal is bubbling in your belly, still carefully punctuating his words with kisses on your skin, “I figured, since we're both so... stressed…” his fingers finally brush against your panties and you shiver. “I could help you relax a little.”

“Wh-what a-about you?”

He’s tracing, teasing along the edges of your underwear, watching you bite your lip to keep your cool. He likes it when you try to stay quiet. It makes it so much more satisfying when you start crying his name like it's the only word you know.

And then the bastard licks up your thigh, tugging your panties down and saying the magic words:

“I thought I'd indulge in a little comfort eating.”

You didn't make it to the bedroom. You barely made it off the sofa. Instead, Chan just yanked you forward, laid back on the rug, and now you're riding his face in the middle of the living room. Making the kinds of noises you thought only existed in hardcore porn.

His arms are locked around your legs, holding you in place as he grinds you up and down on his tongue. Your hands are twisted into his hair, partly for balance, partly as an anchor… but mostly because when you tug on it Chan moans into your cunt and that feels so good.

He's already tongued you through one orgasm, licking you out like you are his favourite candy. He's so drunk on your pussy that he's murmuring the kind of filth that would usually make him blush -m’ baby tastes so GOOD, w’nna drown in thi’s pussy- though his words are almost completely obscured by the wet, sloppy sounds of him giving you the messiest head you've had in months.

It is amazing, and it's incredible, and Chan is clearly having the time of his life as another orgasm coils in your belly, ready to spring. But he's playing games with you now, teasing you with the gentlest flicks of his tongue, keeping that high juuuust out of reach.

Really, it's his fault that you can't help but yank his hair a little harder, grind down on his face harder, and then you're out of control, jerking your hips back and forth on his face until it hits.

And oh boy how it hits, gushing all over Chan's face, ripping all your dignity away as you buck your hips into his tongue, chasing the high rushing through you from your head to your toes.

You don't always squirt, but Chan loves it when you do.

His moans almost drown out yours, so loud he's practically shouting, definitely disturbing the neighbours with the string of enthusiastic cuss words and filth pouring off his tongue (that's right baby, cum on my face, fucking drown me in your cunt, jesus fucking christ-)

It takes you a minute to come back to yourself, Chan still desperately eating you out, working his tongue all over you like he's trying to lick you clean.

But the more he uses his tongue the wetter you get, the more your hips shake, and the closer you are to another orgasm.

One you're not sure you can handle.

You try to lift up a little, give him space to breathe, and your man straight up growls at you, yanking you back down on his face and sucking on you harsh enough to make you yelp. Reminding you who is in charge, he grazes your clit with just the gentlest scrape of his teeth...

And that orgasm you weren't ready for? Hits you like a railway train. You're aching and overstimulated and absolutely powerless to do anything other than thrash around and cry as Chan keeps sucking on your goddamned clit like the devil himself couldn't stop him.

You might've blacked out for a second. Or three.

It's only when you finally come to a gasping, shuddering stop that Chan finally gives you the two gentle taps on your ass that mean you can get off his face now (safewords aren't really an option when your mouth is full).

Except you're so worn out from relentless overstimulation that it's less of a dismount and more just you collapsing in a graceless heap, legs shaking and thighs aching from being held apart for so long.

Boneless and pliant, it's no effort at all for Chan to scoop you up into his arms and carry you princess style to your shared bedroom. You're barely awake as he tucks you into bed and crawls in beside you, nuzzling your hair as you curl up into his chest.

You've almost asleep when a Very Important Thought occurs

“Channie…”

“Yeah baby?”

“You didn't get to cum. Don't you need to cum? Y’wanna blowjob or sumthin’?”

Chan huffs a quiet laugh into your hair. You're so cute when your words are all sleep slurred.

“I already got what I wanted.”

You’re mumbling something about not playin' fair and don't w’nna be selfish, but you're practically unconscious anyway so he just kisses the top of your head and pulls you closer into his chest.

“You can make it up to me in the morning, if it bothers you so much.”

*It turns out that you will in fact, not be making it up to Chan in the morning. Because when he finds all the carpet burn on your knees, he has a minor breakdown and refuses to let you do anything all day.

Urgh, I feel like this is way, way too short, too rushed, and just generally had the potential to be so much better 😂😭 But I wanted to get it it out of my drafts before it gets lost in the poll fics. I wrote this on my phone, so it's probably riddled with spelling and formatting errors 😂 please forgive me. It's hard to write when the house is full and privacy is limited. Just 3 more days until the No Thoughts/Hard Thoughts closes 👀 thank you to everyone that's voted or shown interest, I hope my writing doesn't let you down.

p.s. I was gonna start this fic with the following GIF but not everyone wants a giggle with their word🍤 so that wouldn't have been very cash money of me.

m.list

hard thoughts poll

tagslist is open

#bang chan smut #bangchan smut #bang chan x you #bangchan x you #bang chan x fem!reader #bangchan x fem!reader #skz smut #stray kids smut #skz x you #skz x reader #stray kids x you #stray kids x reader

34 notes · View notes

pleasestayawayidonotlikeyou · 3 days ago

Note

ooooooo Christmas requests

Bad Sanses + Dream x reader who's super crazy about Christmas. like, watches Hallmark movies everyday in December, bakes Christmas cookies and treats, etc.

Featuring: Nightmare, Killer, Ted, Dust, Cross, Error, Dream.

Masterlist

Nightmare

"My darling.. as long as you promise me you'll let me work after this.."

Not his favorite thing to do honestly, way too much positivity radiates from christmas movies, though he'd definitely agree with Grinch about stealing people's Christmas.

If you want to knittle sweaters he'll be more than pleased to help, since it's something he enjoys... just don't question him knitting a star sweater.. it's for uuhh... Someone..

Nightmare is pretty surprised when you show up with snowman cookies in his office saying that he should take a break. He's questioning what's sweeter- you or the cookies.

Killer

"Hehehe.. pass these goodies to me babe!"

Free food? He accepts it.

Killer won't move a finger to help you bake those cookies though, he's literally just there to eat the sweets you're making.

Will very happily join you below the soft blankets when you're watching movies, not like he'll actually pay attention to them since he just wants to spend time with you but it's the thought that counts!

Ted

"Can you... Pass me the.. sugar please..?"

He's gladly baking with you, it's those types of situations where you win double, baking and spending time with his loved one.. best thing in the world.

Ted does question why you're knitting a giant blanket of an old man, but when you respond it's Santa Claus he gets confused, why would you want a blanket of a guy on your bed?? Human traditions don't make sense..

Well, guess he's happy to hear you talk about what Christmas is about.. even if he's not paying attention to what you're saying, only your voice.

Dust

"Mmm... Cool babe.."

He doesn't really care about Christmas, never cared and never will, what is he supposed to celebrate again? The birth of someone of a religion he doesn't give a shit about?

Dust will be by your side, he just won't engage in the activities directly.

Yes he's more than happy to taste your cookies and even happier to cuddle while watching movies, but for him it's something you two can do in any day, it doesn't need a specific date.

Cross

"Finally someone normal in this castle.."

Cross has seen things he can't unsee because of Killer at this time of the year, so to say he's relieved to see you doing normal things people do for Christmas is an understatement.

Will engage in activities with you, building snowmans, baking Christmas themed cookies, watching movies, decorating the house, whatever you want he'll do.

Error

"Ɇ₩₩ ₲Ɇ₮ ₮Ⱨ₳₮ ₮Ⱨł₦₲ ₳₩₳Ɏ ₣ⱤØ₥ ₥Ɇ!"

That's his reaction seeing you offering gingerbread cookies to him. He despises gingerbread.

He's not going to help nor engage in anything that takes too much energy, he has better things to do, plus, you're not leaving the antivoid anyways, why should he even keep an eye on you?

Maybe he'll steal some Christmas decorations from unfortunate AUs and give them for you to do your shits, anything for you to not bother him.

Dream

"Dear, where do you think this places in better?"

Dream is already excited to spend Christmas with his friends and partner, yet you inviting him to help you out with decorations made him even more excited.

It's been... A long time he got to enjoy Christmas, so bring those blankets because you two aren't leaving this couch for a while!

His favorite thing is to bake cookies with you, he definitely makes two gingerman dresses like you and him, then makes them kiss! And then Ink eats both of them when you're distracted...

#undertale au #undertale #sans au #sans x reader #x reader #dream sans x reader #nightmare sans x reader #cross sans x reader #dust sans x reader #killer sans x reader #horror sans x reader #error sans x reader #ted sans x reader

42 notes · View notes

morphids · 15 hours ago

Note

first off- happy holidays!! idk if this is something you’d be interested in but how about a pining assistant troupe with hange? i think it would be fun for reader to have a reiner-ymir relationship with moblit, constantly fighting for hange’s attention and stuff <3

give me all your attention, hange zoë

hi lovely, happy holidays!! this was so much fun to write thank you for requesting!! <3 hope you enjoyyy

summary: pining assistant!r x nb!hange

warnings: kinda sfw—suggestive themes, heavy makeout and a lil dirty talk, tension, lowk dominant hange, nothing explicit. unreliable narration sometimes (r is projecting on moblit a lot) moblit slander—sorry guys i love him really, r def has a hidden praise kink lmao, gendered nicknames towards reader, hange teases a lot, downbad behaviour.

wc: 3.2k

—

Life as Hange's assistant was stressful, to say the least. You think one of these days you'll have a cardiac arrest, the way they're so unbothered about jumping right into danger. Sure, there were worse jobs to be hired into, but it definitely wasn't easy. Hange made sure of that.

But more than that, you couldn't stand Moblit. He was a nice guy, and all, but you two clash a lot. Especially when Hange was in the picture. You'd think Hange had needed him all their life, the way he jumps on the chance to do anything for them. Always doting, chasing them around like a good little labrador. It was sickening, to be honest.

You glanced up from your clipboard, eyeing the way that Moblit brought Hange some dinner, as they hadn't eaten theirs yet. Would've been a nice, caring gesture— except that you had already made extra dinner earlier and boxed some away especially for Hange to eat. Out of all the meals you cooked, that one had been Hange's ultimate favourite. He would've known if he'd bothered to ask, instead of taking it upon himself. You hated how eager to impress Hange he was. Hated Hange's reaction even more, like he was God's gift to their stomach. Ugh.

Both of you were Hange's assistants, having been hired around the same time. So a few years had passed of this little rivalry with each other. You wondered what his motivations were. Why he was as desperate to please as he was.

I mean, your relationship with Hange was so different to theirs. Could he not see that? It's not like all the responsibilities fell on him. If it was up to you, he'd be stuck doing all the paperwork whilst you had the more... hands on jobs that needed doing.

"Dear? Could you come here for a sec?" Hange's voice broke you from your entranced thoughts. You made your way over to the two, tucking your clipboard underneath your arm. Hange seemed to always call you names like that, during the first few weeks of working you worried that they actually just forgot your real name and wanted to cover it up with an easy-to-remember pet name. Then months later, you realised they just seemed to have a proclivity for referring to you in that way.

It flustered you sometimes, made you wonder if that was the reason Moblit didn't seem to take you seriously and seemed to have it out for stealing jobs away from you. Always puffing his chest like he can do everything under the sun. It just seemed to be a quirk of Hange's, though, they never seemed to mean anything by it, always remaining professional. They must just really like nicknames?

"Yes, Hange?" You'd been conditioned to not use their title over the years, Hange seemed to hate that—weeks of correction every time 'Commander,' came out of your mouth.

"I need you to re-check these test results for me—something isn't right, I need fresh eyes."

"Oh, I can do that for you Hange," Moblit spoke, eyes eager as he awaited a new task, even his spine straightened out a little more.

"That won't be needed, Moblit, I'm perfectly capable." You narrowed your eyes at him, voice terse, there he goes again, always trying to take jobs away from you, what an asshole. Does he think women aren't able or something?

Clearly, your glare hadn't been as internal as you intended, as Hange side-eyed the two of you before shoving their slacking glasses tighter up the nose bridge, then clapping their hands together.

"Anyway, I'd need it by tonight, so bring your findings down to my office when you're done, dear." They smiled down at you, warm and gentle.

"Sure, Hange." You nodded as they walked away, leaving you and Moblit stood awkwardly side by side. Moblit looked you up and down, with a vague face.

"Need something?" You bit out, increasingly getting more annoyed. It had been like this since you both started, but it was becoming worse. Your patience was wearing thinner and thinner as he was getting more absurd with his actions. You often wondered if Hange noticed the growing animosity between their two assistants, and actively chose to not get involved, or if they hadn't even noticed at all.

Moblit cleared his throat, looking down at his shoes now.

"Nope,"

"Great, I'll get started on the analyses."

Moblit nodded curtly, moving aside so you could make your way to the desk to do your work.

—

A few hours had passed, your neck was crooked and sore from having been craned towards paper for the afternoon. It took ages to realise what the problem in the test results had been, and then you finally spotted it.

Oh, you were so gonna kill him.

Etched in Moblit's handwriting, was the incorrect recording of two variables. Making sure your tired eyes weren't being deceitful, you flicked between the two sheets again, the one Hange had drafted for the hypothesis plan with the correct variables, and Moblit's, which was supposed to have it all recorded, properly.

He must've misread the numbers, transcribing the data wrong and fucking up the whole experiment.

Idiot, you thought, sighing. You leaned back into your chair, relieved to have found the error in the results, at least it could be fixed now. Sitting up from your seat, you compiled the work together into a pile and took yourself to relay it back to Hange.

Knocking on the door, Hange's voice rang from the other side of the wall, before cracking the door open. Once seeing it was you, moving to the side to let you in, eyes glimmering as you entered.

"Come in, dear, we were just chatting."

Moblit was in there, too. How great. Well, looks like you'd have to do this with him there.

"I found the error," You muttered, placing the sheets down on Hange's desk.

"Ooh! I knew I could count on you - what was it?" Hange excitedly beamed, sipping on some coffee that you just knew Moblit had brought. He's never brought you any, always just the two cups.

"Well, ask Moblit," you chuckled, maybe it was a good thing he was here, so you could see the look on his face, "He marked the variables wrong, it confused the outcome of the experiment."

Meanwhile, Moblit was mortified.

"Wha—", his mouth slightly hung open as he frantically grabbed the sheets to check for himself. Sighing as he saw that you were, in fact, correct. There it was, his mistake written right in front of his face, mocking him.

"I'm sure it happens all the time," You muttered, just not by you, or Hange.

"I'm sorry, Hange! It won't happen, again!" He bent his neck down with shame, Hange only laughed, shaking their head.

"Don't worry, Moby! It can happen to anyone— at least we know, now!"

As much as you hated to admit it, you couldn't have expected Hange to berate him, not for an honest mistake. Yet, a callous part of you wished they had. Chastised him for his error ruining the experiment, wasting hours on a test that was never going to be executed correctly. Scold him for always acting like he was above you, only to fuck up now. But you knew they were too nice for that, it's what you respected about Hange.

"We'll run it properly tomorrow, right, dear?" Hange beamed, brown eyes shining at you through their specs as you found your anger simmering.

"Of course, Hange," They nodded, pleased.

It wasn't long until Moblit excused himself, leaving Hange's office whilst the remnants of shame fuelled his steps. You were about to follow suit, facing towards the door until Hange spoke, stopping your steps.

"Dear? I wanna speak to you,"

Your stomach sank, fuck. What if you were going to get scolded? As far as you were aware, you hadn't done anything wrong. Sure, they didn't scold Moblit, but that had been an easy mistake. What if something you did was so reprehensible that they would? Maybe Hange had grown tired of the way you were towards Moblit— but just because you were vocal about your irritation, doesn't make Moblit anymore innocent. He's the one that started this, always trying to one-up your achievements and helpful nature.

Turning yourself towards them, you failed to meet eyes. Feeling your nerves increase as you feared the worst, plucking at the skin around your nail beds.

"Don't look so scared! I just wanted to say thank you,"

Looking up at them, you faltered, Hange stood right in-front of you.

"What for?"

"Finding the error! It was driving me insane, honestly, I can't believe I missed it," Hange joked, rubbing their forehead, "Must need a nap,"

"Oh...of course, y-you asked me to,"

"I did," Hange came closer, "That doesn't mean you'd find it, though— I must've looked at that report a hundred times and didn't catch it."

"So well done!" They beamed, "You always do what I ask of you, dear—so well, too."

Hange's arm raised to bring a hand down to your arm, squeezing it affectionately.

Your breath caught in your throat, Hange's praise and the contact seemed to have made your brain go a little silly. A lot, silly, in fact. You could just feel your cheeks warm, the implications of their words used in a different context short-circuited your head.

"T-Thank you, Hange, I'm glad I could help," An attempt at retaining strong, retaining dignity and professionalism. You hoped it worked.

"You always help, dear, just try not to give Moblit such a hard time about it, okay?"

Well, that ruined that. Any sense of pride you had just gotten immediately crushed. Hange must've caught the way your face hardened, the way you began nibbling the inner skin of your lip with your teeth, holding back resentful words at your lips puckered out.

"Look, you don't have to be best friends— I know he isn't innocent, either, okay? But I'd rather have my two favourite assistants get along!"

You stared at them, with an 'are you kidding' expression coated on your features. Heck, you had tried getting along with him. He was the one who made it into a competition of who could please Hange the hardest. Constantly prying their attention away from your impressive feats.

Yeah, okay, fine, time to cut the bullshit— you had realised that you had perhaps, a little, teeny crush on Hange a while back. Heart fluttering too much at their praise, their soft way of speaking to you, the way they were so affectionate or had no qualms about rubbing your arm if you'd done a good job, making sure you knew just how much you had been of help.

You craved it. You craved more of their attention like an addict and craved to impress them, to hear those sweet praises as they smiled at you with those warm eyes and enticing smile. Like you were so good, so smart, useful. Had been the best damned assistant that could preemptively predict what Hange would need.

Especially, in the scientific sense; working hard late at night to write the best damn reports they had ever read. Making sure to help think of clever alternatives for an experiment gone wrong. You were damn good at your job. That's why it pissed you off when Moblit decided to keep shitting on your parade, purposefully outshining you so that he looked like the knight in shining armour.

It wasn't like Hange picked favourites, in fact, they seemed a little oblivious to his ways. Thanking him just as they thanked you, with just perhaps a little less skin-ship. And a little less petnames, the things that made your heart race and stomach flip.

At least you knew your reasonings for this—what were his?

But, Moblit had definitely noticed, the way Hange's professionalism seems to falter a little bit when you were around. Definitely noticed when you both stayed in each other's presence more than was deemed necessary, the way Hange's eyes brightened as they spoke to you.

He thought he could never compete with that, not in the professional sense anyway. He'd made it his mission to try and outshine you however he could so that he wouldn't get left behind in tasks, all due to his Commander's potential sweetened feelings towards you. He'd never have any work if Hange just gave all the good work to you! Truthfully, though, by the time he noticed Hange's...affections for you hadn't impacted the way any of you worked, hadn't picked favourites - it was too late to stop the competitiveness. Too late for the animosity between the two assistants to halt.

"Hange, we would get along if he wasn't hellbent on ruining my career!"

Hange cackled, covering their mouth at the dramatics,

"How does he ruin your career, my dear?"

Ignoring the new addition to the nickname, you continued, having held it in for so long it all just came pouring out.

"He steals all the good jobs, acts better than me even though he messes up experiments, feeds you food even though I made you the dinner you like,"

Yup, you were definitely going off-track, but it was too late to stop the rambling, the box had been opened.

"He follows you around like a puppy, brings both of you coffee—always failing to bring me one! Doting on you like—" You cut yourself off, once you caught the look on Hange's face.

Amused and mirthful, front teeth pulling back a bit on the side of their lip as they listened to your rant. Arms crossed as they looked down at you, eager brown eyes bright and glimmering, wanting you to keep going.

"Why does that bother you so much, huh?"

"It's just annoying—he acts like your boyfriend." You huffed, crossing your arms across your chest, as you looked to the side.

"Well, he's not, we all know that, dear."

"Does he know that?"

Hange gaped at you, a playful expression glazing over their eyes, a gentle smirk tugging on their lips.

"Don't worry, pretty, you have all of my attention."

Meeting their eyes, your stomach flipped, a tension in your abdomen at their words. Pretty? That's a new one. You hated the way it sat in your stomach, making your mind sink to dark, dark places. The words in your throat were caught, trapped as you couldn't find in yourself to respond eloquently.

"Yeah right." You knew you were being unreasonably bratty, especially to your superior, but you couldn't care at this point. Deciding to just spew it out.

"Why don't I show you, then, hm?"

Hange unfolded their arms, grabbing your elbows and pulling you close to them.

"What—"

"ssh—told you, 'm gonna show you,"

Hange moved your arms to rest around their shoulders, their own coming down to wrap around your waist.

"What does that mea—"

"It means," Hange was losing patience, "Let me show you how no one else is stealing my attention away, pretty girl."

Hange was inches away, eyes down to your lips, as one hand reached up to thumb the skin on your jaw. Your plump lips split, shallow breaths escaping as your pretty, doe eyes stared up at them, dilating to reveal a darker pool of black in your pupils at Hange's closeness. Mind reeling at how close Hange's fingers were to your throat.

"They never did, dear, my attention was always yours."

Their lips almost touching yours, your brows tilting up slightly as their words. Almost hesitant, what if this was a trap? An insanely well-thought, long planned trap from Moblit, get you to admit your feelings and then humiliate you.

"You were always just so good, doing everything I asked you," The paused, the hand at your waist tightening its grip on your sides, "'N you do it all so well, pretty girl."

"Y'can't possibly think I was never impressed with you, hm?"

Hange's mouth reached your ear, lip grazing your earlobe as shivers went down your back, "All you needed to do was walk into the room n'Im impressed, dear."

"So I’m asking you, will you let me show you?"

You nodded, biting back a low whimper as Hange's lips moved away from your ear to the front of you, hand at your waist still strong, and the other tugging at your jaw, grabbing you a little bit harder, dragging your skin as they pulled your face closer, your eyes fluttering as they moved you.

"Yeah?" They smiled, a gentle, soft smile. Voice teasing, almost mocking, like they knew exactly what they were doing to you—it's not like you were hiding it well, "You'll let me, pretty girl? Need t'hear you say it,"

All doubts left your mind, that craving returning with full force as your mind turned to mush, incoherent thoughts, all you could make out was that craving. That desire that had been eating up at you over the years, Hange’s sweet praise leaving you feeling floaty.

"Y-yes, Hange,"

With the confirmation, Hange pressed their lips to yours, skin finally touching skin. The warmth of their mouth encompassing your own, as you allowed yourself to melt into their kiss. Surrounded with Hange, your chests pressing together as you hands grabbed at the back of their neck. Impossibly close, yet you still craved to be closer.

The sound of lips smashing against each other filled the room, the mutual desire would be heard clearly to anyone who walked in. Heavy breathing through noses as you sighed into each other.

Hange separated your lips to murmur against you, in between shorter pecks, “Been waiting to be able to kiss you,” They breathed out, voice rasped and low, “Waiting this whole time,”

“Hang—“ Your whimpers were cut short, swallowed as Hange connected your lips again, the kiss starved and ardent. Hange’s grip on your jaw was unbelievably tight, helpful considering it was getting harder to hold your head up, truly weakened.

Hange moved your bodies around, the back of your thighs meeting the line of wooden desk, as they leaned you up against it. The hand from your waist reaching down to lift your thigh up on the wooden slab, letting you lean your weight back on it as they placed themselves comfortably in between your open legs. Your thighs tightened around them to keep them close, shivering at the contact of them pressing up against you. Hange’s hands grabbed at your thighs, feeling as much skin as the clothes on your legs would allow, fingers kneading against the fabric, wishing they could feel you without the layers.

“Taste so sweet, dear,” Hange groaned against your lips, “Makin’ me wanna do bad things,” Hange’s lips were plump and flushed, solid evidence of the feverish kissing as you imagined your own weren’t any better off.

“Makin’ me wanna take you right here,” Hange’s words incited you, propelled you deeper into impropriety as you responded, words breathy and full of want.

“What’s stopping you then?”

—

…welp 🫣

#help i actually love this #might even do a smutty part 2 but no promises #i just love them #wanna keep hange in my pocket #they’d entertain me #lesbian #hange zoe x reader #hanji zoe x reader #wlw #attack on titan fic #hange zoe #hanji zoe #requested

26 notes · View notes

imthepunchlord · 3 days ago

Text

Courtship

Read more here.

Ever since their little late night dinner date, there’s been a slight shift in how Okarun treats Miss Ayase. It was nothing too drastic a change, if anything, it was just a minor shift in their normal dynamic stemming entirely from him. An extra habit he’s now developing.

He’s been offering her food.

Very often.

Typically, he shares his own meal with her. Even when she has her own, he makes the offer. She initially always refuses and it saddens him until she relents and has at least a bite of his food.

It does make him happy, but he finds he always wants to give more. Give her all of it.

When he has the money to spare, he’ll buy her favorite candies and food.

When they have a big meal at the Ayase residence, he’ll grab some extra of what’s her favorite to share with her.

He really would give her all of it if he could, but she’s adamant in making sure he eats too.

And the sweet insistence just adds fuel to this fire.

And Okarun just doesn’t entirely get it.

But he also does on some instinctive level?

He really doesn’t know how to even explain it.

At least, until Turbo Granny grumbled at him in annoyance. “Can you save your fumbling courtship when you’re by yourselves?”

Okarun nearly dropped his plate. “C-courtship?!” Okarun stiffly turned to her, gawking. “I, I'm not courtin— well, we, we are dating so—”

“Don't lump our superior culture with your mundane rubble!” Turbo Granny snapped. “You're pursuing her as a yokai and it's embarrassing watching your blunders!”

Okarun blushed. “I, I didn't even realize…”

“Of course you didn't,” Turbo Granny sneered. “But now you know.”

“...Could you tell me about yokai courtship?” Okarun requested.

Turbo Granny gave him a big side eye. “Why should I?”

“Because I'm fumbling around,” Okarun answered, a little more confident now, though his cheeks were still rather pink. “And how am I to know if I'm courting in front of you? This is all new to me.”

Humming aloud, Turbo Granny agreed, “Listen well then, Four Eyes. Yokai courtship is perilous. It comes about only to those who are ready to give it their all, or to perish in their failure. And I do mean perished in the murdered sense.”

“I'm going to die if I fail?!” Okarun proclaimed.

Well, he could believe it. If Miss Ayase said she never wanted anything to do with him, he would be devastated. The mere thought alone almost had him transform.

Turbo Granny rolled her eyes. “Yes, a few weaklings will die of heartbreak, but most are murdered for wasting time!”

“Oh,” he uttered. Well, he doesn't have to worry about that at least.

“Yokai courtship is also incredibly trying, a true test of resilience, want, and one's ego.”

“Really?” Gosh, that sounds intimidating. What was Okarun in for?

“Yes, for courtship is the hardest thing for yokai to do.”

Okarun gulped as Turbo Granny paused for dramatic effect.

“Yokai courtship comes down to devotion.”

Okarun stared. Then blinked as Turbo Granny's words clicked in his mind.

“Eh?” he uttered, “That's it?”

Turbo Granny smacked his thigh, snapping, “Don't say ‘that's it’ like it's nothing! Where's your pride as a yokai?!”

“Sorry! Sorry!” he soothed.

“The vessel of my power,” Turbo Granny grumbled.

“What do you mean devotion?” Okarun asked. He blushed red. “D-do you mean, like, kis-kissing—”

“It's a broad definition,” Turbo Granny said. “At the core, it comes down to you being devoted to another. Sometimes it comes down to physical and sexual pleasure.”

Okarun's blush went redder.

“Sometimes it comes down to service, provision, protection; it's putting another over yourself. Giving away something that should be yours, be it food, energy, time; anything.”

“Oh.”

Turbo Granny gave him a side eye. “We yokai are proud entities. It takes a lot for us to swallow our pride and lower ourselves to another.”

“So, when I’m giving Miss Ayase food…”

“It's one of your courting methods, yes. You’re also quick to protect and obey her orders. Carrying her around like some horse. You act like she's your entire world.” Turbo Granny rolled her eyes and scoffed.

Well, he supposed she wasn't wrong. Miss Ayase was his world, she was very precious to him, and much of what she wanted he would give and more. The thought had him smile, it just felt right.

And, he knew he was important to her too. That he was treasured and valued. Such attention and affection was so rare in his life, he couldn't help but cling to her, have all she wanted to give, and return it a hundred fold.

“You should take a page from me,” Turbo Granny voiced, “be courted instead. She likes you enough that she'd do it, I bet.”

Okarun had a start. He exclaimed in surprise, “ You're being courted?!”

Turbo Granny gave his leg a smack for his insolence. “Of course I am! Do you realize how much of a catch I am?!”

“Yes, you are,” Okarun appeased, “um, who's courting you then?”

Was some strange yokai visiting the Ayase residence? He didn't like that thought…

“Who do you think?” Turbo Granny scoffed, then pointed at Ayase-san.

“Ayase-san?!” he gasped in surprise. “She's courting you?!”

“She cooks and feeds me,” Turbo Granny revealed. “Pretty unprompted, but sometimes I bring her food.”

“...But, Turbo Granny, I think she's just feeding you.”

“Hah! One does not simply feed a yokai! It's her means of worshipping me. That she desires me! And as a show of pleasing me, I join her on her outings. And sometimes I'll supervise you brats because she likes you.”

“That's nice of you,” he offered. “Um, what about when you get your power back?”

“Clearly, this will be my new territory. Usually the one who does the devotion lives in that yokai's territory, if their devotion is accepted, but I'll make an exception for Seiko given her power and situation.” Turbo Granny gave Okarun a sneer. “You better offer me a lot of respect boy, for what will be hers will be mine, and this territory belongs to Seiko instead of Momo. Even if you move in, this won't be your turf.”

That sparked off something competitive in Okarun, something heated. This was where Momo lived. And instinctively, he felt a sense of protectiveness, a sense to claim this place as his, just as much as it was hers. And as these feelings ran so strongly, Okarun couldn't stop the words that were uttered aloud.

“But Miss Ayase has already accepted my affections, so I have more claim to this territory now. You aren't official with Ayase-san yet.”

Turbo Granny's eyes went huge. “Hah?!” she spat, hissing a little.

Okarun turned to her, eyes gleaming red. “This is my territory, not yours.”

Turbo Granny was on her feet, her own teeth bared. “You wanna go at it, Four Eyes? I'll murder you—”

Turbo Granny toppled over a speeding mochi that was thrown her way.

And a second smacked the shifting Okarun, knocking him over as well.

The two speed yokai laid on the ground, stunned in surprise. They heard Ayase-san call out sternly, “I'll have no territorial disputes over dinner!”

“Yes, ma'am,” they both uttered.

They sat up, eating the mochi and settling to glaring at each other quietly. This was not over.

#dandadan #dandadan fic #okarun #ken takakura #turbo granny #yokai okaurn

25 notes · View notes

aishangotome · 1 day ago

Text

Azel Radwan: Chapter 1

Chapter 0

♡———♡

I still don't know what love is.

But someday I want to fall in love and know love.

A passionate love like a blazing rose, a fierce love that remains forever like a story someone spun.

???: I see, I see...

???: How amusing.

(...Who?)

The change came to the recurring dream I always had, on the night it was decided I would travel to a foreign country.

In an immature space, a rose garden where many flowers are tightly closed as buds, an unknown person is reading an unfinished story placed on an oak table.

They had a mystical appearance that didn't seem human.

Hair that shimmered with the light of the giant moon rising in the sky, and strange eyes that seemed to hold the starry sky in their depths.

The sacred and beautiful being, blending into the dream space, scoffs at me as I approach.

Emma: What...is it?

???: I have some unfortunate news for you, who yearns for love and thirsts for knowledge of it.

???: Love is not such a good thing.

???: There are times when it is happier to end your life as an innocent you who knows nothing.

I don't know what words they read from the unfinished book.

But the "something" that is not human directly denies what lies at the root of my heart.

Emma: How can you say that so definitively?

???: Because I am a God.

(...God?)

???: I have seen the "love" of many people. Not stories, but the many raw loves that exist in reality...

???: Many of them are people who think they can do anything with "love" as an excuse.

???: It's a miserable thing, a human being driven mad by love.

???: No matter how rational a person is, once they are mad with love, they can no longer live without it.

???: Like a curse.

Emma: ..............

???: You, the fact that the dream world is wrapped in thorns means you are the daughter of Rhodolite, right?

???: Rhodolite also had it. The story of His Majesty the King who lost his love and fell into becoming a beast.

Emma: ...The love story of the previous Belle and His Majesty the King may indeed have been a tragedy.

Emma: But that doesn't mean that all love ends in tragedy.

???: You are quite right. But it also doesn't mean that all love ends in comedy.

???: Why do you crave love?

At the God's question, words catch in my throat.

There was no particular reason.

There is no particular motive.

It doesn't go beyond pure yearning, and I don't have any deep thoughts on love.

Only when I am told do I realize that my longing has no substance.

???: At the very least, I would like to be excused from such a thing as love.

???: --Because I am a god who does not love people.

(...Nn...)

Drawn by the gentle sunlight peeking through the window, I opened my eyes to find the familiar ceiling of my room in the city filling my vision.

The immature roses, the God who denied love, all vanished like an illusion.

As soon as I woke up, the memories of the dream crumbled, gradually being repainted with reality.

But there was one fragment of the dream that fell into my heart without disappearing.

("Love is a curse"... huh?)

???: Emma, are you awake?

The door knocker announcing a visitor pushed aside my sleepiness.

(This voice... Rio?)

Emma: Sorry, wait a moment!

???: Ah, it's fine. I'm a gentleman, so I'll wait for you as long as it takes.

(...Wait, I think I heard a voice other than Rio's...)

With a touch of anxiety, I quickly changed clothes, washed my face, and got ready before opening the door.

Standing at the entrance was the dazzling smile of my friend, who had quit being a butler and returned to the city with me.

Rio: Good morning! You look absolutely adorable today too!

Emma: Yes, yes, thank you as always.

Emma: ...What brings you here so early?

Rio: I just came to see you because I wanted to see your face.

Rio: I brought some bread. Would you like to eat together?

Emma: Thank you, I'd love to. Mmm, it smells good...

Rio: It's from your favorite bakery. They have the new divination bread too.

Emma: Divination bread? Sounds interesting!

Clavis: Wait, wait, Emma. There's something more important than bread, isn't there?

A figure forcibly wedging himself between Rio and me snatched the bag of bread.

(So it wasn't a hallucination after all.)

Giving up my self-defense escapism, I faced the prince, this country's number one problem child, with a dubious smile plastered on his face.

Emma: It's been a while, Prince Clavis.

Clavis: I'm glad you jumped into my arms honestly from the start.

Emma: Thank you for your concern. Why are you here?

Clavis: Now, why do you think?

???: Don't be so coy, just say it already.

(Huh...?)

I couldn't help but widen my eyes at the large figure sitting on a wooden box some distance away.

Emma: Prince Luke was here too!?

Luke: Oh. Sorry for barging in so early in the morning.

Rio: I just happened to run into Prince Clavis and Prince Luke a while ago.

Rio: I haven't heard what they're here for either, but...

(I thought it was unusual for Rio to come this early in the morning... Maybe he was worried about me.)

Luke stood up from the wooden box and lightly lifted the paper bag he was holding.

Luke: Let us join your breakfast party too.

A commoner's house, occupied by two princes and a former butler friend... In this space, oppressive both physically and mentally, it was Clavis who broke the silence first.

Clavis: Emma, you're going to Tanzanite soon, aren't you?

Rio: Ugh...

The freshly baked bread lined up on the small table and the sweets Luke brought as a souvenir lightly bounced as Rio bumped his head against the corner.

Clavis: What's wrong?

Rio: ...I have a seizure every time I hear that.

Rio: To think that I won't be able to see my angel, goddess, and fairy, Emma, for a while...

Luke: You're so dramatic.

(The first time I told Rio, he looked like he was about to combust, so this is much better.)

*flashback*

Rio: --Emma is going... to Tanzanite...?

Emma: Rio, are you okay!? You just slammed your head into the bookshelf...

Rio: I'm okay... But, why...?

Emma: The owner told me a lot about foreign countries, and I was especially interested in the God in Tanzanite who can perform divination with 100% accuracy.

Emma: If Gods really exist in reality, I thought I'd like to meet one.

Emma: Besides, you know, Tanzanite is famous for tourism, right?

Emma: It's a desert, but I thought it would be a good place for my first trip.

*back to present*

(I felt bad for almost making Rio faint...)

(But I've been excited every day since it was decided I was going to Tanzanite.)

Luke: It's surprising you're not going with her.

Rio: The owner asked me to look after the shop while he's away.

Rio: Of course, I want to go with her!? What if something happens to Emma while I'm not there...?

Rio: But if me staying here will allow Emma to travel with peace of mind, then I... I...

Clavis: Haha, if that's the case, don't worry.

Clavis tore off a piece of bread he was holding, brought it to his mouth, savored it deliciously, and swallowed.

Clavis: We'll be Emma's bodyguards in your place.

Rio: Eh, really? That's great, then I can relax--

Rio: --That's not how it works, is it!? Wait, what do you mean?

(What does he mean!?)

I almost dropped my divination bread and hurriedly caught it.

Clavis: Exactly what I said.

Luke: We're going to Tanzanite too.

Luke, who had stuffed a whole honey-covered pastry into his large mouth, sighed as he licked his fingers.

Luke: I don't want to go because it's a pain, but Chevalier ordered me to go on a diplomatic mission.

(To Tanzanite at this time...)

*flashback*

Akatsuki: Things have been dangerous everywhere lately.

Emma: Could it be... because of the Triple Alliance?

Akatsuki: Yeah. For now, there are no overt moves from any country. But it feels like the calm before the storm.

*back to present*

(...I'm an outsider now, so it's probably best not to pry too deeply.)

Clavis: It's close to your departure date. So, wouldn't you want to go with us?

Clavis: We're planning to use the sea route via Benitoite, and if you board the country's passenger ship, it's practically free.

Clavis: I can see you crying with joy. Ah, I know even without you saying it.

Clavis: Such good fortune to be able to go to a foreign land with your beloved Clavis--

Rio: Objection!

Rio, springing to his feet in the small room, pointed a finger at Clavis.

Rio: They say there's nothing scarier than something free, so what's your objective?

(As expected of Rio, that's what I wanted to know too.)

Clavis took a sip of the tea I had prepared as if to pause for a breath...

And what appeared on his slightly moistened lips was a meaningful and fearless smile.

Clavis: What do you think?

Luke: Don't be so suggestive. There's no deep reason.

Clavis: Luke, read the room.

Luke: You should.

Luke: This guy issued a notice to all officials to report any interesting information regarding Emma to him immediately.

Emma: So you knew about my trip to Tanzanite because...

Luke: The official who issued your departure permit ratted you out.

Emma: Isn't that an abuse of power!?

Clavis: What are you talking about? It's his job.

Luke: This guy was jumping for joy when he learned about your first trip, saying "Delightful."

Luke: He volunteered to go to Tanzanite himself, and I was stuck with babysitting Nokto.

Luke: He said, "I have to give Emma at least one sane person because she's pitiful."

(Thank you, Nokto!)

Luke: But, if you really can't stand it, I'll take responsibility and bury Clavis in the woods.

Clavis: There's no need to worry about that. Emma must be trembling with joy, right?

Luke: ...You should get your eyes checked by a doctor before you leave the country.

Rio: ...I'm worried. I'm very worried.

(I should probably consult with the owner since I'm not traveling alone... )

(But it's reassuring to have someone I know in an unfamiliar place, not just Clavis but Luke too.)

Lost in thought and worry, I furrowed my brow and tore the divination bread I was holding in half.

Emma: Ah.

(Something came out from inside.)

It was a small figurine made of pottery.

It was modeled after a horned horse, standing gallantly on the palm of my hand.

Rio: As expected of Emma! That's a jackpot.

Clavis: Oh ho... Indeed, the unicorn is currently considered the "symbol of good luck" across the continent.

Emma: Is that so?

Clavis: Yes. It's a good sign, you should keep it as a charm.

Clavis: After all, the unicorn has a special meaning in the desert country...?

(I don't really associate unicorns with deserts...)

Emma: If that's the case, it seems like it will bring good luck.

Luke: You've been a good girl. Lots of good things will happen to you even without a unicorn.

I gently wrapped the unicorn in my hand with my fingers.

The unexpected good fortune seemed to be pushing me forward, confirming that my current honest feelings were "right."

Clavis: So, Emma, will you go with us...?

The gateway to Tanzanite, the land of divination and illusions enveloped in desert, was a bustling port town like Benitoite, thriving with merchants.

Emma: This is Tanzanite...!

(I had heard it was a desert, so I thought there would be more sandstorms raging...)

There was no hint of desert in the lively town.

However, the attire of the animals and people passing through the town was clearly different from that of Rhodolite and Benitoite, and coupled with the scent of spices wafting through the air, it made me feel like I was standing in a foreign land.

(I've really come a long way.)

Akatsuki: Our destination is far. It's too early to be frolicking around.

The owner, carrying luggage for his business trip, lined up next to me.

I was also carrying a bag full of books, but it was nothing compared to the owner's.

Emma: Should I carry some more of your luggage?

Akatsuki: No need. I usually carry it all by myself.

(It looks like there are easily 100 books, and he carries them all by himself...)

Clavis: Even though we offered to help, Akatsuki is quite serious, isn't he?

Luke: Emma, I can also carry some for you.

Clavis and Luke, who were on the same ship, were lightly dressed in contrast to us.

Emma: Thank you. But this is my first purchasing trip, so I want to carry my luggage myself.

Emma: Selling books in a foreign land, buying new ones...

Emma: I'm really looking forward to seeing how much the contents of my bag will change between the outbound and return trips.

Luke: You're really lively.

Clavis: Akatsuki has a good assistant.

Clavis: By the way, where are you two going now?

Akatsuki: Someone is coming to pick us up.

Emma: ...Pick us up?

Where the owner unnaturally shifted his gaze, an eye-catching beauty was standing.

(Wow...)

She was a tall, bewitching woman dressed in extravagant ornaments, no less impressive than the owner in his vibrantly colored ruby red attire.

Next to her was a gentle-looking man with glasses, who, upon noticing us, broke into a smile and approached.

Man with glasses: We've been waiting for you, Akatsuki. And...

Emma: I'm Emma. I've come as the owner's assistant.

Basil: Ah, I heard about you in the letter. Nice to meet you, please call me Basil.

Basil: And this flamboyant woman here is Kamal.

Kamal: ............

Kamal smiled seductively and showed me the words "Nice to meet you" from a bundle of papers she took out of her pocket.

Basil: As you can see, Kamal can't speak, so please communicate with her through writing.

(I see...)

Emma: Understood. It's a pleasure to meet you both.

Clavis: ...Hmm.

Beside us, as we exchanged greetings amicably, Clavis rested his chin on his hand.

Clavis: You are servants of the Living God, are you not?

(...Eh?)

Basil: Impressive! How did you know?

Clavis: Well, you have the proof of faith, don't you?

Clavis pointed to his own chest with his finger.

Both Basil and Kamal had their cloak clasps in that spot.

(...Looking closely, there's a unicorn on the clasp.)

(Is this the "proof of faith"?)

Clavis: I once heard that those close to God wear unicorn ornaments.

Clavis: Also, a few years ago, I heard a story about the book merchant that Prince Azel employs.

Clavis: I had a hunch, but it seems Akatsuki's client is a big shot.

Emma: Client... You mean God?

Akatsuki: Whether it's God or royalty, a customer is a customer. Nothing more, nothing less.

(He didn't tell me that!?)

The owner, who didn't change his expression at all, might be a more amazing person than I thought.

Basil: We will always serve as guides for Akatsuki.

Basil: Prince Clavis and Prince Luke, please go that way. The court envoy is waiting for you.

Clavis: Haha, as expected of your discerning eye, to know not only about me but also about the newcomer Luke.

Clavis: Rhodolite shouldn't have sent a prior notice about who was coming, so it must be a prophecy from the Living God, right?

(...!)

Basil: That's right! Prince Azel is truly an amazing person! Can I talk about this? Is the atmosphere okay? It's okay, right?

(He suddenly started talking fast...?)

Kamal mercilessly smacked Basil on the head as he pushed up his glasses and made them shine, a complete change from his calm demeanor.

Then she took out another stack of papers and showed the word "Let's go."

(...That sounded like his skull cracked, is he okay?)

Luke: Well, we'll say goodbye here for now.

Clavis: I'll come to see you myself before Emma starts crying from loneliness, okay?

Emma: I don't think I'll cry from loneliness, but let's meet again.

(With this flow... we're going straight to God's place, right?)

(Oh no, I'm getting nervous.)

(I wonder what the real God is like.)

Azel: Thank you for making the trip to such a remote place.

Emma: Ah!

Chapter 2

If you’d like to support my translations, feel free to buy me a coffee here! :)

#ikepri translations #ikemen prince translations #azel #azel radwan #azel radwan main route #ikemen prince azel radwan

30 notes · View notes

narnian-neverlander · 4 hours ago

Text

Your Villain [Viktor x GN!Reader]

Preview: It’s a few hours and a doctor’s visit later that you’re settled into your bathtub, back pressed against Viktor’s chest and hands stretched out in front of you to examine them in all their bandaged glory. Nothing vital had been injured, thankfully, a bit of rest and some medicine and you’d be good as new. “This is ridiculous.” you complain in a huff, pushing some wet strands of hair out of your face. “I was supposed to be taking care of you.” His arms tighten around your middle in response, chin coming to rest on your shoulder. “I am overworked. You had a panic attack and accidentally sliced your hands open. Which one of those sounds like it should be higher up on our list of priorities, hm?”

Genre: hurt/comfort, light angst, fluff

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: blood, injuries, panic attack (reader accidentally hurts themselves during an attack), talk about neglectful/abusive parents & human trafficking, mildly suggestive (Viktor is a menace)

This takes place within the same continuity/features the same reader as For You, Always and One of the Fools

A/N: Just in case I haven’t made that clear enough in all my fics, I love Jayce. Jayce haters have no space on my blog, bye 👋

“So what did you think?”

Jayce beams at you from up on the stage in the otherwise empty auditorium, you his only audience. You’d literally run into him on your way to deliver the boys’ food and without waiting for your approval, he’d immediately dragged you off to have someone to practice his presentation for some potential investors with. Most of the technical terms are lost on you of course, but the golden boy manages to make it all engaging and thrilling nonetheless, as you knew he would. There’s just one tiny little thing.

“It’s great. Except you look like you’re about to fall off the stage and start snoring any second.” His smile falters and it only serves to accentuate the dark circles under his eyes, his disheveled clothes and messy hair. If that’s the state he’s in, the one out of the two Hextech geniuses just a tiny smidge better at taking care of himself, you don’t even want to think about the other one. Unfortunately, it is kind of your job to think about the other one. “When did Mel say she was bringing over those potential new investors?”

“Soon.” he answers as he hops of the stage to join you. “Soon as in a few weeks, or a few days, or…?” The way he flinches makes you dread the worst. “Soon as in I think they might already be in her office.” Shaking your head in fond exasperation, you quickly gather your things and head back towards the lab with him. “Cutting it a bit close this time, aren’t we?” He groans as he walks alongside you down the hall. “There’s just been a lot happening at once recently, alright? Besides, they’re only coming by to talk to Mel today, the actual presentation from our side isn’t for a few days.”

He holds the door to the lab open for you and you quickly thank him as you duck inside, immediately zeroing in on the man sat at one of the desks, furiously scribbling into one of his notebooks. Greeting him happily, he replies with, “Ah, you’re back. Hand me those notes you took with you.” Jayce digs through his pile of papers for said notes and leaves them on the desk before coming to stand beside you. “Does he— Has it resgistered with him that I’m here…?” You’re trying your damn hardest not laugh as you pass a sandwich from your bag to the tall brunette; he shrugs while unpacking it. “Eh, maybe. 50/50 chance.” He takes a quick bite and then calls out to his partner again. “Hey V, your lover’s here.”

“That’s great, Jayce.” Deadpan, monotone. So Jayce ups the ante. “Yeah, we thought we’d maybe go on a date later? Or better yet, we skip that and just do it on a desk right here, you don’t mind, right?” A dismissive wave of a slender hand. “Yes, yes, whatever you want.” And you’re laughing while Jayce fondly shakes his head and continues to eat. Grabbing a thermos, you also snatch one of the stools scattered across the room and drag it over to where Viktor’s sitting. You sit down beside him, unscrew the bottle and pour some of the steaming contents into the empty mug still in front of him, then settle down sideways on the desk, arm tucked under your head for comfort as you watch him.

5 seconds. 4. 3. 2. 1. And there he is; blinking as the smell hits him and draws him out of his own little world. Works every time. You snort as he reaches for the mug. “At least now I know where I stand - and it’s below the sweetmilk. Disappointing, not surprising.” He startles, not really expecting anyone else in the lab, much less so close to him, eyes locking onto you and his gaze immediately grows soft. Mumbling apologies, his hand finds the back of your neck, practiced fingers drawing familiar patterns into the skin as he presses a quick kiss to your temple. Placated for now, you get back up on your feet and hug him from behind, arms around his shoulders and lips next to his ear. “How is the most handsome man in Piltover today?”

“Bone tired. But you knew that already, I guess. Pretty good, considering the stress, but it’s all gonna be worth it when—“ he cuts himself off when he finds two sets of judgemental eyes with raised brows on him, matching expressions conveying clear amusement. “And you were talking to Viktor.” Snickering, you answer, “Yes, Jayce, I was talking to the man I’ve been dating for months. I can see how you got confused though, considering our earlier bit. And I’m glad to hear you’re doing well, all things considered, but maybe some rest isn’t the worst idea? Get your mind working properly again?” And because the poor man doesn’t feel bad enough yet, Viktor brings a hand to his heart, clutching at his chest in mock offense and chimes in with, “Oh don’t be too hard on him, we can’t blame him; it’s only natural he’d assume you’re talking to him. Who would ever look at me when Piltover’s very own golden boy is in the room?”

Jayce opens and closes his mouth, failing miserably at trying to come up with a retort; both of you grinning at him like cats playing with their favorite toy, so he simply throws up his hands in surrender and settles on: “Oh, you both suck. You deserve each other.” Still laughing, you plant a quick kiss on your boyfriend’s cheek and then walk back over to the table where you left your bag, intending to grab his lunch. Not that you get very far, as the very familiar handle of a cane loops around your waist and drags you backwards in stumbling steps and before you know it you land in Viktor’s lap with an ‘Ooff!’

“And where do you think you’re going?” he complains, trapping you with him, arms tightly wound around your middle. “To get your food so you actually have the energy to go home with me?” You can feel the protest coming before he even opens his mouth and you’re absolutely not having it right now, not with the way he currently looks. “Darling, your eyebags have eyebags, you’re already about halfway out of your clothes and quite frankly, you reek. So you’re coming home with me, you’re gonna take a bath and then a nap and you’re not gonna argue about it. I just saw the presentation on your current project; it’s perfectly fine, your work is done and you have no reason to stay cooped up in here any longer today.” Tired, amber eyes blink at you owlishly several times before he cocks his head to the side and a sultry smile tugs at his lips and you curse yourself for not just slapping your hand over his mouth when you’d had the chance. “And when do we get to the part where I get to have you for dessert?” An eye roll at his boldness. “Maybe we can talk about it after your nap. Maybe.” His nose wrinkles in disapproval and he buries his face in the crook of your neck before you can stop him, warm breath fanning across your neck, leaving goosebumps in it’s wake when he speaks again. “Eh, I do not like that order.” You just barely manage to tangle your fingers into his hair and forcefully tug his head back before he manages to sink his teeth into the column of your throat. “Viktor…” you warn, only halfheartedly. He’s even worse of a menace than usual when he’s sleep deprived and you know that. You should know that. And yet you still make the mistake of looking at him.

With the first few buttons of his shirt undone, vest and tie discarded long before you even came into the picture, strands of his chestnut hair sticking up in every direction, partly courtesy of your fingers still keeping his head in place, and pupils blown so wide there’s only a thin ring of gold left, he damn well looks like you’ve already done something indecent. The ‘What…?’ he whispers is perfectly innocent, while the smile on his pretty lips is perfectly sinful. Your lover turns your brain to mush more often than you’d like and he likes to do it at the most inopportune of times. Unintentional, of course, he’d assured you. Right.

“Oh for the love of— I’m still here!” It’s your saving grace, the reboot your brain had sorely needed. “There are times when I liked it better when you two weren’t dating, do you know that?” You get your feet back on the floor and yourself off Viktor’s lap as you teasingly shoot back with, “And do you know that you get mean when you’re sleep deprived? You had a good hand in getting us together, you know, you’re only reaping what you sowed.”

Jayce flips you off with an equally teasing, gap-toothed grin, and of course that’s the exact moment the heavy doors open and Mel walks in. The three of you scramble to look at least somewhat professional in the young councilor’s presence, which includes Jayce immediately shoving his hands behind his back and you putting a good distance between you and Viktor by meandering back over to the table with your things, luckily positioned in a back corner of the lab mostly hidden by machinery, so you simply try to make yourself as invisible as possible; her visit always means business and that really has nothing to do with you, so you try to stay out of it to the best of your abilities.

“Councilor! I didn’t expect you today, what can we do for you?” She trails an elegant hand along one of the desks as she answers Jayce. “Oh nothing much. Your next potential investors were wondering if they could maybe sneak a peak at what they might be investing in.” The two scientists exchange quick glances. “With all due respect, our presentation wasn’t supposed to be until later this week. And to be honest we’re in no shape—“ She interrupts him with a call of his name, soft and amused and the air in the room becomes lighter, less professional. “Their little one asked to see the lab, that’s all. She was quite excited about the entire prospect of you two making actual magic happen here.” Viktor’s shoulders slump in relief as Jayce laughs lightly. “O-oh that’s… yeah, sure, why not.” Mel nods in thanks and then returns to the door, inviting the people waiting inside.

What happens next is mostly political pleasantries and introductions being exchanged, so you don’t really pay much attention, except… you know these voices. At least, you’re fairly certain you do, even if your mind can’t place them in this very moment. Trying to inconspicuously steal a glance at the visitors, you peek around a corner of machinery. You can’t see much, with their backs turned to you; two human adults with graying hair, in fine clothes, adorned with gold and jewels, and a little bouncing ball of energy hopping around them, trying to take in everything in the lab all at once.

“Mama, Papa, look! What’s that? And what do you use this for? Oh, why do you have that thing?”

A soft chuckle.

“My, your mind is as insatiable as always isn’t it, dear?”

And the glass bottle in your hands slips from your fingers and shatters into a thousand little pieces on the floor.

Mama, Papa, look! I’ve never seen any food like that! What do you think it tastes like? Can we get this back home, too?

My, your mind is as insatiable as always isn’t it, dear?

The blood’s roaring in your ears, ‘Oh that’s just a friend who brought over some food, nothing to worry about’ the last thing you hear from Jayce before the rest of the world gets drowned out. You’re on your knees, gathering glass shards in mechanical movements as your heart rate picks up enough for it to be considered worrisome. No matter how hard and deep you gulp down air, it can’t seem to fill your lungs and your breaths turn sharp, shallow, gasping.

Meanwhile Viktor is drumming his fingers against the wood of the desk in irritation and anxiety and the very instant these people are out the door, he’s up and walking across the room. Something’s wrong with you; he can’t explain it, but he’s absolutely certain nonetheless. As he rounds the corner of the lab equipment you’re hiding behind, his stomach drops and the breath almost gets knocked out of him.

Blood. All over the floor, smeared over your thighs and dripping from your trembling hands, glass shards clutched between your fingers. He shouts for Jayce to get the first aid kit immediately and then he’s down on the ground with you, desperately pleading with you to open your hands and let go. But it’s like you can’t even see him, much less hear him; breaths barely a shivering wheeze and glassy, unfocused eyes staring off into nothing. If he forces your palms open he’s only going to hurt you and himself, so he brings his hand to the back of your neck instead, gently coaxing you to him and leaning his forehead against yours; whispering quiet reassurances to you, hoping to pull you back from whatever dark place you slipped into.

“It’s okay, miláčku, you’re okay.”

“I’m with you, you’re not alone.”

“Breathe, please just breathe for me, my love.”

It takes several long, agonizing minutes, but your breathing slowly returns to normal and you finally unclench your hands, glass still sticking to your tender, bloody skin. Blinking, your eyes swim back into focus and you can’t remember how exactly you ended up on the floor, or why you feel so exhausted and light headed. Or why Viktor’s kneeling on the ground in front of you, looking like he just witnessed his very own personal hell play out in front of him; Jayce standing a few feet behind him with the first aid kit in his hands, equally concerned and horrified.

“V-Vik…?” you whimper and that’s when the pain finally hits and your gaze falls to the bloody, disgusting mess that is your hands and the sobs and tears start before the situation fully registers.

The both of them get you up and sitting on the nearest desk, Viktor next to you with an arm around your shoulders and your head nestled in the crook of his neck, tears staining his shirt as he shushes you gently. Jayce gets to work on your hands in the meantime, picking out glass shards from your skin with a pair of tweezers as carefully as possible. By the time he’s applying disinfectant to your wounds and starts slowly wrapping them in gauze, the lab’s silent except for your quiet hiccups. Gingerly, apologetically, Viktor makes you sit up so he can get a look at your face and while he doesn’t necessarily like what he finds, eyes red and puffy and glassy, still with the same empty faraway look from earlier, he deems it safe enough to question you. “Darling, can you tell me what happened…?” You open your mouth, you want to answer, but try as you might, nothing comes out. So he helps you along. “Did you know the people who were here?” A nod.

Jayce knows about the… unique circumstances you’d had to endure when you first came to Piltover. Not in as much detail as Viktor, he assumes anyways, but he’s your friend and you’d confided in him about it long ago. And with his partner’s usually sharp mind clouded with worry, he’s the one that connects the dots first. Not that it makes getting the question out any easier, so when he speaks it’s slow and hesitant. “Were they… were they some of the people that… bought you when you were a kid…?” To his surprise, or maybe relief, he’s not sure, you shake your head no. Short lived relief as your answer makes his blood turn to ice. “They’re the people that sold me in the first place…”

“Those were… those were your parents…?” Jayce asks carefully as he finishes wrapping up your hands and you don’t actually answer his question, only mumble to yourself under your breath, and what he manages to hear breaks the inventor’s heart. “They have a kid… they have a kid…”

In direct opposition to his partner, Viktor’s blood is boiling. If you weren’t entirely reliant on him to keep you upright at the moment, he would be out of the lab and after your birth parents already. And it’s not hard to tell what he’s thinking, with the sharp, deadly glare directed at the door, so Jayce calls his name. No reaction. Again. Same result. Third time’s the charm, this time a bit louder, with more force behind it, and the Zaunite’s narrowed golden eyes flit from the doors to his fellow scientist. He’s gotten up from the stool he’d been on to treat your wounds, now packing up the medical supplies and subtly inclines his head towards you. “Someone should get them to a doctor. And then home. And stay with them.”

The raging fire in Viktor dies down to flickering embers as he takes in your trembling, hunched over form, little whimpers still leaving your lips every once and again. “Of course…” he replies and he could kick himself. Of course. You’re in pain, you’re suffering and you need him right now. Whatever he might think of your birth parents, however much he’d like to throw some choice words on your behalf at them, your wellbeing comes first. So he ushers you to your feet, arms linked and starts steering you towards the exit. Jayce’s ‘Keep me in the loop, okay?’ receives a decisive nod right before the doors close behind you both.

It’s a few hours and a doctor’s visit later that you’re settled into your bathtub, back pressed against Viktor’s chest and hands stretched out in front of you to examine them in all their bandaged glory. Nothing vital had been injured, thankfully, a bit of rest and some medicine and you’d be good as new. “This is ridiculous.” you complain in a huff, pushing some wet strands of hair out of your face. “I was supposed to be taking care of you.” His arms tighten around your middle in response, chin coming to rest on your shoulder. “I am overworked. You had a panic attack and accidentally sliced your hands open. Which one of those sounds like it should be higher up on our list of priorities, hm?” Unconvinced, you grumble further objections under your breath and poke at one of the dwindling bubbles in the steaming water, careful not to get your hands wet, lest you need to re-wrap them again this evening. “I’m sorry you had to see me like that… I’m not usually—“

“Stop.” He silences you with a kiss to your jawline. “You have nothing to apologize for. I’m just sorry you had to go through that in the first place.” With a defeated sigh, you scoot down further into the tub, nestling into his embrace and nosing at the slope of his neck. Silence falls between you for a while, except for the soft music from your phonograph over in the other room. You haven’t talked about anything that has happened and he hasn’t pried, hasn’t pushed and you know he won’t. Just like you know that you probably should talk about what’s weighing down on you so heavily. “Their kid. She seemed… happy. Well taken care of.” Ah, right, that’s why you’d refused to talk. You’re already crying again, swallowing around the growing lump in your throat. “Which means they can be good parents. Nurturing. Kind. They just couldn’t be that for me.” A sobbing hiccup is a precursor of what’s to come. “Why— Why couldn’t they just be that for me?!” You curl in on yourself, tucked against his chest, dissolving into a whimpering, crying mess. He stays mostly silent through it, only comforting little nothings between soft kisses against your skin. He waits for you to calm down, quiet sniffles the only thing left of your outburst, before he speaks. “It is not your fault, my light. They’re the fools who never gave you the love and care you deserved and in turn gave up the chance to see the wonderful person you would become.”

The grief and pain in your chest slowly turns into something else entirely; bitter and ugly and hateful.

“I want them to see. I want them to see what I accomplished, the person I turned into, without their help. In spite of what they did to me. I want them to look at me and recognize that they messed up; groveling and begging for forgiveness that I won’t grant.” And a part of you does want that, more than anything. Wants to see them humiliated and crying and broken, just like they left you once, long ago. But that’s just one part of you. Another one thinks of the little, bubbly, starry eyed girl you’d seen sprinting about the lab; happy and joyful to be experiencing, sharing, something new and exciting with her beloved parents. A heavy sigh leaves you as realization which part of you will win out in the end hits. “But it wouldn’t change anything. The only thing it would accomplish is ruin the image an innocent girl has of her parents. It would change things for her, not for me or for them. I’d be destroying the foundation parents are supposed to be for their children and it would make me just like them.”

“You’re a stronger person than I ever could be. If not for you and Jayce, I would’ve gone after them today. Given them a piece of my mind.” A kiss to his pulse point. “It’s the thought that counts. Besides, there was a time when I would’ve needed them in my life. Not anymore. I had a parent; a dad who raised me and supported me and gave me all the love and care I ever needed. And while he might not be around anymore, I still have people who love me. That’s more than enough.”

What you’re about to say next doesn’t come as easily to you; it’s inappropriate and you hate the fact that you even consider asking, but not mentioning it at all doesn’t sit right with you either. “Viktor, I… I don’t wanna ask this of you, I shouldn’t be. It’s presumptuous and selfish and my personal life shouldn’t be interfering with your work, but… please, just…” You can’t bring yourself to actually finish that sentence, not that you really have to, you both know what you’re implying. He doesn’t immediately reply, you don’t expect him to and you definitely don’t expect him to agree. What you’re asking is audacious at best, downright offensive at worst and you wouldn’t blame him if he got upset with you over it. What happens instead leaves you utterly baffled, because he carefully takes hold of one of your hands and presses a light kiss to the bandaged knuckles and says, “I still remember the last time I saw you when we were kids, you know.”

“You came bounding down to the riverbed, almost tripping over your own feet, yelling my name and waving your hands. Telling me all about how your parents were gonna take you to Piltover for the first time the next day. How you were gonna try every food you’d be able to get your hands on. How you were gonna bring me back a new toolbox. Gods, you were so excited, you were glowing.” A fond, soft chuckle. “I want a future where every child in Zaun can look and feel like that all the time. That’s the kind of future I want to create with Hextech. People like your parents, who will sell their own flesh and blood, who will sell Zaun’s future, for their own gain? They will not be a part of that. Not as long as I have a say in anything Hextech. So please don’t worry.”

Water splashes over the edges of the tub as you shift, straddling him and cupping his face. With glassy eyes and shaky breaths, you bring your forehead to his and whisper your thanks. He gently takes a hold of your forearms as he speaks. “Not for this. Not for anything that has transpired today.” Shaking your head slightly in disagreement, you grab one of his wrists and leave a kiss on his palm. “Yes, for this. For everything you did today. I’d never take that for granted, I’d never take you for granted, but I feel like I don’t actually tell you enough. How glad I am that I have you. How happy it makes me that you decided I’m the person you’d like to share your life with. How fortunate I consider myself to be with someone I can always rely on, no matter what.” His eyes seem to glow in the candlelight, warm honey taking you in with pride and affection as he moves his arms to wrap around you in a loose hug. “I hope you know that feeling’s mutual.” Humming in acknowledgment, you manage to ignore the part of you that disagrees with him. That little, nasty voice in the back of your head is always there, but it’s been getting quieter in recent months, easier to handle. So instead of questioning yourself and wether you truly are a support for him as much as he is for you, you kiss the mole under his eye, run your nose along his sharp cheekbone, press another kiss to the mole right above his mouth and then your lips finally find his, sweet and chaste. “Yeah, I know…” you mumble and kissing becomes virtually impossible with how much he’s smiling so you pull back with an overly dramatic huff to pout.

“So, considering the day did not at all go as planned and your precious order of things got… eh, kicked right out the window: Have you changed your mind on dessert yet?” Truly, it takes you a few very long seconds. It’s the suggestive raise of a thick brow that finally makes all the pieces click into place and the flush of your skin can’t be attributed to the hot water alone anymore as you try to dunk him for that. When that doesn’t work, you settle for splashing him instead, wet bandages and bathroom floor be damned, and try as you might to seem offended, you’re smiling and laughing right along with him. “Oh so that was your intention all along? You’re a fiend; a vile, treacherous fiend, Viktor.” He manages to get a careful hold of your flailing hands, before you hurt yourself further, with one of his own, using the other to push wet hair back and out of his face, some droplets still clinging to his long lashes as he grins up at you. “You wound me, my love, I would never. My only intention with this was to make you laugh. Is that truly such a vile and treacherous deed?”

You’re left gawking at him in awe, because even after all this time, you still can’t fully comprehend how well he knows you. “Well…?” A slender finger pokes your cheek. “Am I still the villain?” Of course he’s not. He never could be. Not in your story, anyways. But you and your wounded pride aren’t quite willing to admit that yet. So you turn your gaze away, cause you can’t possibly stay even fake mad at him if you have to look at his stupid face with that crooked grin you adore so much, before you answer. “Yes, yes you are. A devious, troublesome, terribly handsome—“ Your face scrunches up in annoyance; at yourself and your brain’s inability to function properly around this man and the bastard actually has the audacity to laugh at you while he hugs you closer and tucks his head under your chin so you can’t get another opportunity to soak him yet again. You loop your arms around his shoulders and bury your hands in his hair and fiddle with the wet strands instead.

“Eh, well, at least I’m your villain. For as long as you’ll have me.”

Your hold on him tightens, the grip on his hair almost painful, your answer immediate and certain. “Always. I… I’ll always want you. Villain or not.” A tad much maybe, a little silly, you’re only joking around after all, but you can’t help it. You have the love of your life right here in your arms, of this you’re certain, and as long as he still wants you in return, you don’t plan on letting him go. And you’d take any chance to tell him as much.

He doesn’t seem to see it as too much or silly, though. Not with the way he presses a lingering kiss to your chest, right where he can feel your fluttering heartbeat under your wet skin and hums in contemplation and gratitude. “The rest of the world can have me as their villain, as long I get to have you in return.” Carding your fingers through his hair softly, he receives a small chuckle as his answer. “Silly. You already have me.” You use the fingers already tangled in his chestnut locks to tip his head back and get his eyes on you, beautiful amber like a warm, familiar fire. “I’m yours, now and always. And nothing is ever going to change that.”

“Nothing…” he echoes, gaze already on your lips. The kiss is passionate, loving and oh so tender. A newfound promise between lovers, sealed to last an eternity.

#arcane viktor x reader #hurt/comfort #gender neutral reader #viktor x reader #fluff #angst #childhood friends #arcane x reader #arcane imagine #viktor arcane #league of legends

33 notes · View notes