#but you will always have something different to offer compared to everyone

[burntheedges]

Pas de Deux Chapter 7

Din Djarin x f!reader | 2.4k | fic masterlist | main masterlist | ao3

chapter summary: How will your next practice go, now that you've talked?

a/n: so what will dancing together be like now? Posting early because I'm traveling later today. See my notes at the end and on the masterlist about reader in this fic and ballet in general. Thank you @katareyoudrilling for being the best beta, as always!!

chapter tags/warnings: gen, ballet terms (see end notes and the masterlist for definitions and videos), fluff!!!, more talking

Chapter 7

By Monday, you were exhausted and most of you hurt, but you walked into morning class with a smile playing around your mouth.

You’d nailed Hermia, and you didn’t think you could feel better about it. Adrian had already tackled you in a hug the day before, after the third performance — thankfully already out of his glittery Puck costume. (Or Elena and Max, the costume heads, would have been pissed.) But he’d been amazing, too, and you told him so. 

As you put on your shoes for barre, you felt someone come up and stand next to your spot along the wall. You looked up and saw black shoes and black tights, and smiled.

“Hi, Din,” you said, looking up to meet his gaze.

His face was as expressionless as always, but you could have sworn the corner of his mouth lifted just slightly when your eyes met. It was small, but it was there.

“Morning,” he greeted you softly. “You were amazing this weekend.”

You grinned as you moved to stand. He offered his hand and you took it. “You saw?” You hadn’t seen him in the wings or the audience, but that didn’t mean anything — it was a packed house for all three performances.

He nodded, squeezing your hand before letting it drop. “Yesterday. I brought Grogu, too, he loved it. But we couldn’t stay after, so I couldn’t look for you to tell you how good you were. You captured her perfectly. I could feel her confusion and turmoil.” He turned to walk towards his spot at the barre and you moved with him. “It felt so… tormented. I could almost see her indecision.”

You smiled and ducked your head as you reached the barre. You grasped it in both hands and leaned into it a little. “Um, thanks.” You looked up at him and found his gaze was soft behind his mask. “It did feel good. I was really happy with it.”

He nodded at you. “You should be. It was beautiful.” He paused for a moment, looking at you, and you couldn’t think of a single thing to say in response.

Din opened his mouth to say something else, but Alexa called out for everyone to start, and you started to move towards your spot at the barre next to his. 

“Hey,” he said, reaching out to catch your arm. “Can we meet tomorrow? After lunch. To rehearse.”

You nodded. “Tomorrow.” 

…

On Tuesday, Din told you he’d reserved one of the tiny practice rooms set aside for just that purpose. You promised you’d meet him there. As he stepped away, Adrian stepped up to fill the space. You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Were you just lurking there, listening in?”

“Obviously,” he rolled his eyes. “What’s the practice room for?”

You laughed. “We’re going to work on the pas de deux, before rehearsal on Thursday.”

He waggled his eyebrows at you and you elbowed him. “Oof. Rude. It sounds like things are going better, then?”

You nodded. “I think so. We haven’t tried it again, yet, but I think it’s going to work better, this time.” You’d already told him all about your conversation with Din, leaving out the personal details Din had shared. You didn’t think he’d want you to spread those around.

“Good.”

Alexa called out to Adrian and you moved off, waving as you turned into the hallway. 

…

As you walked towards the room Din had reserved for you, you couldn’t help but notice how different you felt, compared to your walk to rehearsal, so full of dread the week before. 

You found the small room, tucked away at the end of the rehearsal hall and around the corner. You almost never came back here, you realized. 

Din was already inside, fiddling with the sound system.

“Hey, Din,” you said, smiling when he turned to look at you. You closed the door and moved to join him. “Did you go home for lunch?”

He nodded. “Grogu had a half day today, so I got to eat lunch with him.” He smiled — just a small thing, but the obvious difference from how he was in class warmed you. 

“That’s great,” you said, and sat to put on your shoes. “I’m sure he was excited to see you.”

Din made a small noise, and you looked up. He was smiling a bit bigger, and you realized he had laughed, just a bit. You grinned. “He was. He said he talked about the ballet at school and danced for his teacher.”

You laughed. “That’s so cute, oh my god.”

Din ducked his head and you thought you saw an even wider smile take over his mouth.  You looked down at your shoes to keep yourself from staring. He looked good when he smiled. (He looked good all the time.)

You cut off your own thoughts, moving to stand. “So, did you have something in mind for today?” You asked.

He nodded. “I was thinking, what if we talk through what we have so far? I’d like to hear how you think about it. What you’re feeling and how you want to show that. I think that would help me.”

You blinked. “Sure. I can do that. And I want to hear from you, what you’re thinking is going on in your character’s head. That’s how I usually start — what is she thinking? And how can I show that, in my body? Should it be obvious or subtle? And then the emotion can come out in so many different ways… but I always start from what she’s thinking.”

Din looked thoughtful. “I usually do think about that, too, but I guess I haven’t had as much freedom before. In terms of what I can do with it.”

That made sense, based on what you knew of CBC. But something about what he said caught your attention. “Din… what if we use that. In the dance.”

He tilted his head at you and leaned against the barre. “What do you mean?”

“Well, we know Kuiil wants our characters to learn from each other and then create something new together, right? Or form a new connection that affects each other.” He nodded. “Ok, so what if your character becomes freer or more open over the course of the performance?”

His eyebrows flew upwards. “Oh.” He sounded like he was as struck by the idea as you had been a moment before.

You nodded. “Yes! And so you could start from something more familiar and change, over the course of the dance. And that’s what we could work on. So you’re not starting from something so new, but instead growing towards it. Maybe we could even work that in, that my character is sort of drawing yours out? It would add to the back and forth between us, and the give and take. And I could even mirror you a bit, to invite you in! Your reactions could sort of waiver towards and away from the openness my character is inviting you to have. Right? Between acceptance and rejection. What do you think?” You ran out of breath, and you knew your hope for him to agree must have been showing on your face. Now that you’d had the idea, you were attached to it. It seemed perfect.

He looked down, and you bit your lip. “Din—“

But then he looked up, and he looked relieved. He nodded. “I like it. I think that’s perfect. And it will feel like so much less pressure. I think I was getting too in my head about getting it right from the beginning.”

“Oh, good! Ok, great.” You reached out and squeezed his arm. Almost immediately he covered your hand with his free one and pressed down gently. You couldn’t help but notice how big his hand was, as it covered yours, and you felt your face heat up and ignored it. You needed to get used to touching each other, anyway. “I think this will be good, Din. We can do this.”

You were standing so close, you realized, since you’d reached out to touch him and he’d held you there. You hesitated. “So, do you want to start by talking it through?”

He nodded. For a moment he didn’t move, but then he squeezed your hand again before releasing it and stepping away. “Let’s start from when we first see each other.”

You nodded and moved to join him in the center of the small room. As you began, you could feel it. This would work. 

…

Rehearsal on Thursday was so different, you could tell Kuiil was both surprised and over the moon with excitement.

From the moment the music started, you could feel it. You and Din were still dancing separately, still “meeting” each other in character, but you were working together. Something had shifted, since you talked and practiced and began to work together. And it might not be what it needed to be yet, but it was so much better than what it was before.

You could feel him moving across the space with you, and it was like a tentative connection formed between you that you could pull taut and release. It was almost like you were listening for each other, taking cues from changes in each other’s breath or even small movements. His body would echo one part of the music, and yours would follow another in response. You extended your leg, and something in the way he moved his shoulders responded to it. He turned, and you spun around, meeting him from a different angle. It felt good. It was new, but it was there. 

You ran through it once, and Kuiil looked like he might actually cry, or jump for joy.

“Oh, yes, yes!” He said, coming towards you in the middle of the room. He rested his hands on his hips and looked between you, smiling widely. “Yes, I knew it — I can see it forming within and between you. Well done, both of you. Could you feel it?”

You and Din both nodded, and he gestured widely with his arms. “Of course you could! The energy, you have found it. You are building it.” He nodded again. “I can see that you have talked, and settled more into your characters. Now we can truly get to work.”

And so you did.

…

February began to fly by, much faster than January, and with much more ease. You and Din found a rhythm together that actually worked. You were friendly, in the mornings in class, though he still hid behind his mask around the rest of the company. And then you started to become something more like actual friends when you were alone or rehearsing with Kuiil. 

Din seemed more comfortable with you than he had before, and that comfort allowed him to open up in a way you hadn’t seen him do yet in his dancing. Kuill began to focus on the second movement, when your characters circled each other, and you could see Din relaxing his form and beginning to open his movements beyond the emotionless technique that had been drilled into him at CBC. It was beautiful to watch — you were so impressed with him.

Two weeks later, rehearsals for Swan Lake had picked up, and so had your rehearsals for the pas de deux.

Kuill had just walked you through the crescendo of the second movement, which involved jumps, some partnered turns, and a complicated lift section. It wasn’t the first time Din lifted you in the choreography, but it was the first time you needed to rely on him and his support so completely, with two lifts and transition into a different hold. 

It wasn’t your first time being lifted by a partner, of course, but it was your first time doing something like this with Din. There was always a moment, when partnering with someone new, when you found out just how much you actually trusted each other. You didn’t need to be best friends to dance together well, but you did need to trust in the support of your partner. 

You shook out your arms and legs and rolled your shoulders. You trusted Din. He wasn’t hidden behind that expressionless mask anymore, not with you. I can do this.

Kuill started the music, and you twirled into action, leaping past Din. He caught your hand as you began to move away and spun you around him. You “fell” into a collapsed position over his arm, allowing the spin, and then he guided you upwards with light touches into an arabesque. He tugged you forward through traveling turns that crossed the stage, squeezing your hip just at the right moment to let you know when to stop. Finally you attempted to pull away, and he pulled you back and spun you in a circle into a tour jeté lift. As you landed he turned you again and lifted you upwards into a horizontal spin that finished with your hands resting on his shoulders as you stretched your legs into a fully extended split, perpendicular to the ground. You paused there, for just a moment, before he lifted you by your hips and then brought you back down gently. You sprang away instantly.

The music stopped, and you turned back to look at Din, breathing hard. You were both grinning. You froze, staring at how it transformed his face. He was beautiful. 

Kuill called out that that the lift was perfect, but that he wanted you to work on the build up to it. You almost couldn’t listen to him. You were too caught up in the feelings running through your body.

You’d never experienced anything like that before. The first attempt, and it was perfect — Din had lifted you seemingly effortlessly, and his hands had gone exactly where they needed to go. You’d communicated with each other through touch with ease. You had felt fully supported and able to truly perform to the music, even when in the air. You felt amazing. And you could see on Din’s face that he felt it, too.

“My dear?” Kuiil asked, stepping up beside you. 

You tore your eyes away from Din’s, finally, and realized you’d probably missed what he said. “Sorry! Again?” 

Kuiil nodded, and you ignored his knowing smile. He looked almost smug. “Again,” he agreed, and you stepped back towards Din.

When you looked at him again, you found he hadn’t looked away from you. “Again,” he murmured, echoing Kuiil. The look in his eyes made your breath catch.

It went just as well the second time. 

…

prev | next

a/n: such improvement!

Partnering: so in this chapter we get an extended partnering sequence. I tried to find moments that looked like what I was picturing for each piece, and they’re linked above (and they should take you to the right spot in each video) – the hand grab, the traveling turns, communication while partnering, a tour jete lift, and the lift into the split. I hope it makes sense! This video has a bit more about partnered turns (though they’re doing traveling ones here) and this one has more about what the guy is doing with his hands during those turns. I linked to different spots in this one a couple of times but the video overall is great because Mira Nadon shares some really interesting thoughts about what it’s like to work with a new partner. 

I’m going to talk more about Swan Lake next week because it’s more of a focus in the next chapter. 🦢

[kunikame]

venus, planet of love. - mitsuki i.

warning(s) : hurt/comfort, mitsukis inferiority complex, i7 are the planets dont ask me why just read the fic, i love u izumi mitsuki u are so me w/c : 1619

you know love is real because izumi mitsuki exists, and he is full of it.

mitsuki loves many things – he loves iori, ZERO, re:vale, idolish7, his parents, the bakery, .. the list goes on endlessly, for izumi mitsuki is love itself. he is a lover through and through, he was raised with love enveloping him all around, and he spreads it around to everyone shamelessly and selflessly.

the only thing mitsuki doesn’t really love is himself – he is second. always, always second.

second to his genius younger brother, secondary to all his group members, always the kid picked last unless iori was the leader.

there was nothing particularly wrong with him that made it this way, he was, simply put, mediocre. a jack of all trades but master of none, if you will.

so you can imagine it didn’t quite surprise him to be less popular than his group mates by a huge margin. he didn’t stand out with anything, he had nothing for himself that would make him stand out – he wasn’t too likeable. he was aware of this, he has known this for a while – but it still hit him quite hard.

it was horrible, really, to see a light so bright become dim because it cannot see itself – it only sees the other lights, and becomes lost in their glow, mistakenly led to believe he does not shine at all.

it certainly does a number on the sight to gaze directly at the sun.

perhaps if he was brighter, if he was made of something different, he, too, would shine – would be loved.

you’ve always compared idolish7 to the planets in the sky, and fittingly so, as to you, a friend and fan, they are the center of a greater something. something only they can create, something that is tried and tested and truly theirs, because they shine brighter than all the stars combined, and because they deserve to have their place in the universe.

if nanase riku is the sun, a sense of purpose, then iori izumi is the moon, instinct. nikaido yamato is jupiter, expansion. nagi rokuya is saturn, responsibility. tamaki yotsuba is uranus, freedom. osaka sogo is mercury, adaptability. 

izumi mitsuki is venus, love.

for it is not love if it is not izumi mitsuki. it is not izumi mitsuki if it is not love.

you just wish he knew that.

which is exactly why when he got offers to mc on variety shows, you encouraged him to take them, to try them – maybe he’ll end up liking them. he is really funny, after all, a natural conversationalist. he is exactly the type variety mc’s like to interview the most, you’re almost certain he would be good at the job.

and he was – he was so good, in fact, he earned idolish7 their very own namesake show, with him as the mc.

he finally had something for himself, something that was purely his, something that defined and solidified his place in idolish7. something that made him irreplaceable.

seeing mitsuki try so earnestly and work so hard, you honestly didn’t know what to do. sometimes, you’d want to say “good luck!”, but other times you feel a “you don’t have to work so hard” would be better, as he was literally working himself to the bone to please everyone he possibly could – for what is he, if not love?

he never desired whatever side parts come with fame – he simply wanted to make people happy. that was his one true ambition, his goal. he doesn’t need anyone to love him, as long as they love the things he loves – as long as they love idolish7. it would sting, of course, to be left behind, to be unfavored, but he supposed he could live with that reality. he was finally accepted after all those failed auditions, he was doing what he loved, with the people he loved by his side.

he believed he could somehow get used to being disliked.

being disliked for doing something he loved however, that was a different story. 

he thought by mc-ing he could get closer to the others in popularity – and, from a certain point, it was true – his popularity did rise a bit, and he definitely did receive more fan letters and positive comments now, but the fated encounter and the unfortunate “he’s so annoying, i wish he would shut up” would continue to ring in his head for a long while to come.

he has just built up his confidence and stability like a fine tower of cards, fearing the slightest gust of wind lest it gets knocked off and tumbles onto his wooden desk in a messy pile – but instead, someone kicked the desk and the cards flew off and onto the cold, harsh ground, such a far distance off.

nagi had attempted to salvage the situation to the best of his ability, but lifting the cards off the ground isn’t going to rebuild the tower – mitsuki will have to do that himself.

handing him the cards while he does so was a simple act of kindness on your part.

“mitsuki?”

he startles mid stretch, an earbud falling out as he turns his head.

“[name]? what are you still doing here?”

“i was looking for you, then i ran into iori– he said i’d find you here,” you made your way over to sit next to him on the floor, sharing a look through the mirror facing you, “what are you doing here so late?”

“y’know, just practicing. gotta catch up and stuff, haha.”

“you’re already good enough as you are, mitsuki. you don’t need to chase after anything or anyone.”

he heaves an exhausted sigh, fiddling with the wires from his earbuds, “i do, though. i’m smaller than the others so i’m often off beat during the choreographies. i need to do more work to make sure i stay on.”

“you shouldn’t work so hard all the time. you’re tearing yourself apart trying to do this and that all at the same time – i understand your intentions, but i feel the way you’re going about them is going to bring you ruin in the end. as a friend first and fan second, i care for your health, and i don’t want to see you destroy yourself.”

“i’m not as good as them th–”

“yes, you are. you’re too absorbed in seeing them as the brightest lights to see yourself shining just as much as them. popularity polls don’t define who you are as a person, or how much you work, or how hard you try. the others know that, though, and so do i. we all see how much effort and care you put into your work, mitsuki – we know you pour out your heart and soul into everything you do, desperately trying to make it the best, trying to make people happy with you, and you do. the disapproving voices simply sound louder to you at this point in time, because those are the ones you’re most exposed to. it is however not hatred and dislike that kills entertainers, it’s love.”

the ginger listened attentively, taking your monologue in, dissecting it bit by bit. though he seems to disagree, he does understand your view and he respects it – he just doesn’t quite understand. he looks up at the mirror, staring in your eyes through it, and his seem to shimmer a tad more than they normally would under the studio lights.

“why love?”

the smile on your face feels a little melancholy, and again, he finds himself not understanding why.

“love can be overbearing and suffocating. sometimes we love things too much – so much we would kill just to keep them to ourselves. we destroy ourselves in an effort to make our loved ones happy or proud, completely blind to our surroundings becoming hazy and hard to navigate, and when you come to, you find you’re all alone in a room once filled with people. love changes, sometimes not in a good way. much like the stars burn up and disappear, the planets, too, will be destroyed by the sun,” you turn to him then, and there is a singular tear streaming down his face. you reach out to wipe it with your finger, and he blinks, “i don’t want to see that happen to you, because to me, you are love.”

“the destructive kind?”

“no, the beautiful kind. i see pieces of you in everything i hold dear, because i hold you dear.”

you see him smile for the first time that night, and it is beautiful, blindingly so – brighter than the white leds above his head. 

“i hold you dear, too.”

there’s a comfortable silence as you gaze at each other, the instrumental to their new song faintly heard from his long discarded earbuds on the floor.

“hey, did you know venus is the brightest planet naturally visible in the night sky?”

perhaps the planet of love itself was destroyed by being loved too much, but not izumi mitsuki – never izumi mitsuki.

izumi mitsuki loved many things. he loved iori, ZERO, re:vale, idolish7 – the list goes on. he was a lover, raised to love the things and people around himself.

“oh, really?”

but izumi mitsuki was also loved. loved by his fans, group mates, parents – by you.

the izumi mitsuki you knew had his love returned to him tenfold by his surroundings – be it the flowers his eyes linger on, the deep orange hues of the setting sun as they caress his face, the stray pets he feeds when he sees them – everything.

the izumi mitsuki you know is loved.

“yeah.”

maybe one day he will learn to love himself, too. 

ੈ✩₊˚TAGLIST : @gabirii //ask/comment or fill form to be added/removed! (if you’re in bold i can’t tag you)

[meownotgood]

writing would be so joyous without the plague of the Compare Self to Others debuff

[qqueenofhades]

Obviously the main contrasting narrative of the Harris campaign is (rightfully, the ads almost write themselves!) prosecutor vs convict. But I keep thinking about how, in one of her first campaign speeches, she had Biden on the phone and he said something like "I'm here, I love you Kid" and she said "I love you too" and just... That compared to the Jan 6th Mike Pence situation. Like this election is about democracy over fascism but it's also about love and kindness and sincerity on the level of person-to-person relationships.

Well... yeah. As Minnesota governor Tim Walz put it when he was doing the TV rounds for Kamala the other day, the Republicans are just weird people. They are mean, petty, reactionary, focused on revenge and retribution and making people suffer, their rhetoric is about shame and violence and punishment, they are all about Who Your Enemy Is, and their drift into ever more extreme fascist positions is a reflection of that. And strongman/fascist authoritarianism is often popular during moments of chaos and upheaval in the rest of the world, because the unknown feels so scary and people keep falling for the lie that a helpful dictator strongman will turn up and make it all better. It never happens, but it is a powerful lie and it can work for several years at a time, as we have (unfortunately) seen. (And Tim Walz is definitely climbing the list of Old White Guys I Like; supposedly he is on Harris' initial VP shortlist, and while I certainly have favorites of my own, she could very much do worse.)

However, and this is why fascist movements always plant the seeds of their own destruction, this constant garbage spew of hate and vitriol never ever works forever, and usually not even all that long. Because once you spend your time destroying everyone else on your mean stupid crusade of mindless bigotry, you lose friends, you alienate the ordinary people who are more interested in having something to be FOR rather than just constantly against, and eventually you eat your own. And while it will shore up your ever-dwindling cult base, it will not be able to expand beyond the people who are already fully indoctrinated, and it will lose more people than it attracts. As I have said before, one of the key tenets of fascist movements is presenting themselves as powerful, inevitable, and almighty: just surrender to them now before We Crush You (tm) later! But they are not! They are goofy, stupid, mean, and just plain (thanks Gov. Walz) WEIRD! Nobody wants to be those guys!

So yes. With the whole fact of a party where one guy tried to get his first VP killed and now has picked another reactionary loser who is the least popular VP pick in 50 years, and the other is joyfully supporting his VP, a woman of color (after serving loyally to the first Black president, Biden has set the way for the -- knock on wood -- second, and that is also amazing), it's really easy to see the difference, and very clearly, people do. Kamala offers something to rally FOR, and that is always, always more powerful than mindless hate. Sucks to be the GOP. (As usual.)

[215-luv]

HQ AS YOUR TYPICAL HIGHSCHOOL BOYS WHO HAS A CRUSH ON YOU

KAGEYAMA: a shy guy who needs the mental support of the whole volleyball team just so he could initiate a conversation with you. whenever you’re in the same room as him he just suddenly finds himself all stiff and unable to function properly. the amount of times where he catches glimpses of you is hilarious because he couldn’t speak a damn word to you no matter how much he wants to.

OIKAWA: to him, there’s something romantic about surprising you by leaving gifts on your desk and locker and there isn’t one day where he forgets to do that, no matter what the occasion is. during huge events such as Christmas, valentines day, you name it — he has everything planned out just for you. he’s actually good at being romantic and he knows that to himself. he’s spoiled you so much and he’s just at the peak of having a crush on you, what more if he’s in a relationship with you.

USHIJIMA: he’s the definition of actions over words. ushijima doesn’t talk much, but his intentions reflect clearly through his actions. one day, he offers to carry your things for you. another day, he offers you his sweater because he hears you complaining how cold the weather is — and that nearly scared the shit out of you because you’re literally at the other end of the classroom?? whenever you’re walking through the stairs, he’ll offer you his hand for support. if he notices your discomfort in a big crowd, he’ll use his body to support you incase someone might bump onto you while using his arm to support your lower back.

HINATA: he’ll always greet you with a ‘good morning y/n! :D’ or a ‘hi y/n! what a lovely morning, is it? how are you doing!’ with a smile on his face every morning before class starts and it goes the same when it’s time to go home ‘cause he always makes sure to see you at the beginning and at the end of his day. he’s so sweet because although he couldn’t bring you home due to volleyball practice, he’ll tell you, ‘have a safe trip home y/n!’ or ‘i’ll see you tomorrow y/n! make sure to send me a text when you’re home, kay!’

TSUKISHIMA: he still sends snappy remarks to you, but the difference between the way he is to others compared to you is detectable. very. so much so that everytime tsukki interacts with you, kageyama looks at him as if he’s possessed. his feelings for you comes out in a different way, but the soft glint from the way he gazes at you reflects his true intentions — because at one point he hears you complaining how you’re having a hard time at a certain subject, and suddenly he drops a whole ass notebook infront of you, all containing his notes of the lesson. he raises an eyebrow at the confused look you’re giving him, “why are you looking at me like that? we don’t want you failing with your empty head, don’t we?” he says with a snicker,,, and a slight blush on his cheeks.

KUROO: he doesn’t hide the fact that he has a crush on you. it doesn’t surprise you with the fact that he’s already leaning against the door frame of your classroom after classes has ended. he also isn’t shy with the fact that he’s sending you winks from across the cafeteria or hallways (he knows you like it). passing by him through the school hallway, at that short moment, he sends you a glance, a cheshire smile on his face as he greets you with a ‘hey pretty’ before passing by you as if he didn’t do shit at all.

AKAASHI: he’s so attentive when it comes to you. he’ll open doors for you and let you enter or leave the room first before he does. everyone is actually close to having no clue whether he has a crush on you or not ‘cause he’s naturally polite in general —but the thing is, his gaze on you is so loving??? it’s not the kind of look he’s ever given to anyone at all & i’m pretty sure the volleyball team has caught up with his intentions towards you. it doesn’t take long until they’re being ridiculously loud at teasing akaashi about it especially when they keep catching him looking at you with that gaze again.

[suguann]

✎. you aren’t happy about your roommate’s party until you meet the attractive guy down the hall.

tags. fem!reader, future installments will contain smut, age difference, original characters, college student reader, one-night stands, angst, dirty talk, hurt/comfort, size kink, unplanned pregnancy

featuring. simon

It’s your first semester living off-campus, and Finn is boundlessly enthusiastic about all things that involve cheap liquor and crowded spaces, even more so now that she roped you into being her roommate after promising to split the cost of furnishing an apartment that’s probably too expensive for two undergrads working part-time, low-pay jobs.

You don’t like parties, really. 

Movies and the social connotations surrounding parties have always made them seem like some monumental proverbial chip in your college experience; the real thing, once the bright-eyed shine of trying something new wears off, is more or less a bunch of random people packed into a room like sardines who abate their social awkwardness with alcohol and loud music.

So, no, you can’t exactly say that you enjoy the thought of Finn’s friends (and everyone she hardly smiles at) cramping up your already tiny apartment—especially when one of them is Miller from one of your business classes, who gives you the creeps. 

And leave it to Finn to invite him, anyway.

"Now he knows where I live," you grumble into your bowl of cereal—something probably too sweet and (definitely) full of sugar for breakfast.

Finn shrugs, not at all worried for you, as she pours more sticky orange batter into the hot pan on the stove. "The guy has a crush on you. I think it's cute. And he seems harmless."

“Harmless until I end up in a ditch somewhere.”

You don’t have to see her face to know she’s doing that thing with her mouth whenever you say something she thinks is ridiculous. “If you’d agree to split the Netflix bill, you wouldn’t be stuck watching horror movies. Why do you only own horror movies, again?”

"That's easy for you to say.” You roll your eyes, ignoring her question. “You don’t have to sit by him every week.”

(As if that would ever convince her to change her mind.)

"Ow! Shit!"

You look up right before Finn drops a steaming pancake onto her hand and rushes to the sink to run it under cold water. The mutilated pancake lay forgotten with the others that didn't survive her last several attempts.

"Finn, I think this is unnecessary," you tell her after swallowing a mouthful of cereal. "Can't you do something more practical? Like sticking a note to their door?"

Finn looks up from the sink, her wild, red curls bouncing from the movement. "Oh, come on! Don't chicken out now. I've already made fifteen of these things." She points her pink spatula at the tower of not-quite pumpkin-shaped pancakes on the counter. "Plus, who's going to turn down free food? Now, go put on your costume and hand these out."

You shovel another spoonful of cereal into your mouth, scowling. "I'm not wearing the costume you picked out. It's so...inappropriate."

You’re pretty sure Finn picked out your costume from the dicey sex shop down the street rather than an actual Halloween store—the amount of mesh compared to solid fabric only solidifies the theory.

Finn finally turns the water off and gives you a stern look, amused eyes set under a furrowed brow. "I can find the one you own in the children's section at Costco."

You roll your eyes. "I really don’t feel like flashing my tits to the neighbors while offering them breakfast.”

She grins, wide and teasing. "You have nice tits, though.”

"Yeah, I'm sure the old woman down the hall would love to see her neighbor in the equivalent of a thong and nipple coverings at the start of her day." You don’t think you’d ever be able to look her in the eye again.

"Miss Yado is cool,” Finn says, returning to the stove to continue cooking. “She'll probably just tell you to wear a jacket or something."

You pick up your empty bowl and lean over the counter to put it in the sink. "I didn't know you talked to our neighbors."

Finn shrugs, flipping the pancake in the skillet. "She normally walks her dog while I'm heading to class. I stop to talk to her sometimes when I'm not running late." 

“Oh?”

She shoots you a wry grin over her shoulder. "You'd know the neighbors too if you didn't scowl all the time."

In response, the corners of your mouth tip down. "I don’t scowl."

"Now, would you go change? These are getting cold." 

Several minutes later, you come out of your room wearing the same costume you'd worn the past two years. Finn pouts when she sees you forwent the one she had picked out. However, she doesn’t do more than shake her head and shove a handful of food containers full of pancakes into your hands.

“You’ll be fine. Just remember to smile,” she tells you before the front door closes behind you.

You start on your end of the hall, going door to door and handing out the small containers. The whole time, you’re wondering why Finn couldn’t do this herself, considering you’re hardly a people person as is. Thankfully, nobody seemed too annoyed about being bothered on a Saturday morning—only one neighbor shut the door in your face before you could say anything.

But it’s fine. You’re not going to let it ruin your day. Plus, you only have one person left.

There’s a small pit of nerves in your stomach when you knock this time—half expecting another door to the face. What you don’t expect, however, is the tall and imposing guy who answers.

Who also doesn’t appear to be any less annoyed.

Your mouth opens and closes helplessly, all words stuck to the back of your tongue, watching as stray water droplets drip down from his wet hair and travel down the side of his face before dispersing into the dark stubble lining his jaw.

You stare. And stare. Eyes, most likely, bugging unattractively out of your head.

How did Finn never mention the super hot neighbor who lived six doors down the hall?

He gives you a once-over, and part of you suddenly wishes you’d gone with Finn's costume instead. Only because here, at that moment, you’re willing to admit that maybe the one you have on looks like a six-year-old picked it out—especially when this guy, who is way out of your league, scrutinizes it for a second longer, mostly your frilly crew socks. 

"Can I help you?" he asks, his voice low as if he hasn’t been awake for long.

You blink, mild embarrassment rushing through you from the sudden realization that you’ve been standing there and saying absolutely nothing.

"Hi, um, I'm your neighbor from down the hall. My roommate and I are throwing a Halloween party, and we're inviting people in the building." Annoyance slowly melts off his face.

"Thank you,” heavily tattooed arms cross over his broad chest, and he leans against the door frame (and you definitely don’t stare at how his biceps seem to strain against his black t-shirt). “But I think I'm getting a little old for parties."

The corners of your mouth tip up in what’s the beginning of a smile.

"Okay, sure. You're, what, twenty-five?"

It’s a stupid joke, and for a moment, you panic, afraid he’d been unimpressed, but then his lips quirked slightly. "Not quite. Nice costume. Let me guess, fairy?"

"Witch, actually. I’ve always gone with something more original," you babble and bite your lip before you can say something else.

"It’s cute." 

Cute?

You’re unsure if you should feel elated that he thinks so or self-conscious—that he might be making fun of you—so you settle with a mumbled “thanks.”

"So, what's with the container?" he asks, nodding toward your hands.

"Oh, um, my roommate thought she could bribe people with food to come to the party." Truthfully, it’s to prevent potential complaints from the neighbors, but you decide not to mention that part, although you think he knows by the way the corner of his mouth subtly lifts.

You give him the plastic container and watch as he stares into it with a furrowed brow. "It's a... pancake?"

"Er, yeah. My roommate likes to go above and beyond for everything."

"What's it supposed to be?" he asks, glancing up at you.

"Um, a pumpkin..."

You look between him and the container and find Finn had accidentally mixed up her presentable pancakes with the throwaways. And the pumpkin shape is...well, it isn't.

"Ah, I see," he nods, his slowly drying hair falling onto his forehead. "That makes more sense."

You can’t stop the giggle that bubbles to the surface. "You think you can do better?"

"Yes, actually," he grins back, all cocksure, with a flash of white teeth. "Maybe I’ll bring some over some time."

"I won't tell her you said that." However, you can't wait to rib Finn later.

"Right, it probably wouldn't make a very good first impression." Then he sticks out his free hand, "Simon."

You shyly shake it—ignoring the little skip in your chest at how big his hand is compared to yours—and tell him your name, too.

His eyes flicker down to his watch, and he curses under his breath. "Well, it was nice meeting you. But I have to finish getting ready for work."

Only then do you take note of the tactical pants and heavy boots he’s wearing.

When you meet his gaze again, you find amusement there, and you consider, with a new rush of mortification, that it probably seemed like you’d been openly eyeing his crotch. 

You clear your throat, the back of your neck feeling hot, and you pointedly pretend your voice doesn’t hitch when you breathe a soft, tremulous, "Okay, sure.”

"Tell your roommate I said thanks for breakfast."

"Yeah, I'll tell her. Um, I guess I'll see you around." No longer able to make eye contact with him, you turn away and begin walking (though it’s probably closer to running) toward your door.

And you definitely don’t look over your shoulder to see if he’s still standing there.

You spend most of the party hanging out near the front door, quietly hoping Simon might show up—even though it seems unlikely. After all, he did mention that he’s too old for parties, and a small, insecure part of you wonders if it was his polite way of turning you down.

"The guy was running late,” Finn had tried to reassure you. “I'm sure he was thinking about how to beat expressway traffic before the lunch hour rush hit. Not about the crazy lady in a witch costume running away from his door."

That was the initial deciding factor between your witch costume and the one Finn’s been trying to force you into—only so you don’t have to hear another person call you cute just to seem nice.

And leave it to Finn to jump at the opportunity to help you get ready, though she nearly freaked out when you popped into your joint bathroom with an old tube of mascara that you rummaged out of your nightstand.

"Do you know how many germs are probably on that thing?" Finn’s nose scrunched up as she threw it away in the waste bin near the toilet. "Please tell me you haven't used it since you bought it?"

You had rolled your eyes. "Probably not."

Finn sighed, then smiled. "Luckily for you, I own more than a crusty mascara tube." 

You were about to argue, but when Finn told you to sit on the toilet lid with a dangerously sharp liner pen, you’d clenched your jaw instead, unsure what you were more scared of when Finn brought the pen close to your face: that your friend might potentially stab you in the eye or that you’d come out of the bathroom with raccoon eyes.

Thankfully, when Finn finally finished, neither was the case, except the number of looks you’ve been receiving anytime someone stops in the kitchen to get more drinks is something you hadn’t anticipated—especially when one of them happens to be Miller.

You’ve been avoiding him and his overly bare chest from the moment he walked through your front door. It grew more challenging after Finn left your side (the traitor) to talk to a guy you’ve seen her hanging around with on campus a few times. 

And with the apartment feeling smaller than it already is, you’re only option is to blend in with the group hanging around your kitchen island.

You’ll be fine, Finn said.

Right, you think as you adjust the scanty tube top under your mesh shirt, trying to cover more of yourself with what little fabric you have at your disposal, and you wonder if it’s too late to change—

A knock at the door makes you perk up, regardless of how noisy the room is, with eardrum-shattering music and loud college students. You pull it open, expecting to see Simon on the other side, only to be disappointed when it’s one of Finn’s friends and her girlfriend instead.

"Hey, Roma." You realize you probably sound rude and attempt to give them your best smile—which is more or less a grimace.

Roma smooths out her extremely short referee-style dress. "Sorry, we're late! I couldn't remember where you lived. There are way too many blue apartment buildings around here..."

Everything she’s saying goes in one ear and out the other when you spot Simon stepping out of the door to the stairway across the hall. You hold your breath, waiting for him to look up from his phone.

But he keeps walking.

"Uh, yeah," you say distractedly before speeding up the conversation. "Hey, Finn is in the living room, but I'll see you guys inside, okay? I need to do something."

You step around them to catch up to Simon, which you learn isn’t easy in heels. So you call his name, hoping he hears you and smiling when he turns toward you. And you don’t miss how his gaze trails down your body slowly.

It makes something inside you quiver as you nervously play with the short hem of your skirt.

“Hey,” he says, sounding every bit as tired as he looks—his shirt from that morning now wrinkled with bluish hollows under his eyes—though he tries to hide it with what you think is an attempt at a smile.

And your cheeks burn because you feel guilty. 

"Hey," you repeat dumbly. 

Your eyes lower as his smile melts into one of faint amusement at your lack of tact. You fidget, shifting from one foot to the other. Maybe, you think, you should have let him walk into his apartment before you could embarrass yourself further today.  

After a moment, you meet his gaze again. 

"Uh, I just wanted to see if you still wanted to come over…But I imagine you're probably not up for it, so I’ll leave—"

Simon surprises you when he shrugs his shoulders and says, "Sure."

Your mouth gapes, unsure if you heard him correctly. "Wh-what?"

"I just need to shower and change, and then I'll be over. Okay?"

"I... yeah, okay," your nod is shy, trying not to betray eagerness.

A lazy grin stretches across his mouth. "Nice costume, by the way," he disappears into his apartment before he can witness how his words make you flush.

And you walk back to your apartment feeling a little more floaty than when you left.

masterlist

[fear-is-truth]

⋆౨ৎ˚ 𝐈𝐓 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 — nicholas a. chavez

𝓣ags ; actress!reader . not proofread . wc 1.4k

requested by — @chaimilkshake

꒰ after your breakout role, teen vogue invites you and your future co-star for an interview ꒱ؘ.

The set of Teen Vogue’s interview was bathed in blinding, fluorescent light, illuminating the sleek, modern chairs arranged under the cameras. Your fingers tapped anxiously against your thigh as you sat in one of them, trying to keep your nerves in check. This wasn’t just any interview—it was your first big one, and you could feel the weight of the attention on your shoulders.

You glanced across the room at Nicholas Alexander Chavez, who was seated in the chair next to you. He’s the rising star everyone’s been talking about since Ryan Murphy’s new docuseries blew up, where he played Lyle Menendez. The two of you were often compared, given your similar roles. In the film, you played Sandra Anderson, one of the infamous “bathtub sisters”—two teenage girls who orchestrated their mother’s murder, a case that horrified the nation. It was your first big role, and while the story itself was dark and intense, the critics had been praising your performance alongside your co-star’s. You’d both been dubbed the “female counterparts” to Nicholas and Cooper Koch, and while that comparison was flattering, it always felt a little surreal to you.

You had only ever done tv commercials before Bathtub Sisters. At 19, you were new to all of this, while Nicholas, at 25, was experienced, confident, and already beloved. And now you were about to share the spotlight with him, after the two of you had been cast as romantic leads in a new rom-com—a pairing that had already broken the internet—people were dying to see more of you together.

Yeah, no pressure.

“Alright, you two ready?” the interviewer — Maggie’s voice calls out from off-camera. You take a deep breath and nod, forcing a small smile. Nicholas glances at you, catching your eye, and offers an easy smile of his own. It helps ease your nerves a little.

“Welcome back, everyone! Today, we’re sitting down with two of Hollywood’s newest stars—Nicholas Chavez and Y/N, who recently broke the internet after being cast together in an upcoming rom-com. You might recognize them from their past roles as Lyle Menendez and Sandra Anderson. Welcome, you two!”

“Thanks for having us, I’m Nicholas Chavez,” Nicholas says smoothly, flashing a smile in your direction. You nod and wave shyly at the camera. “And I’m Y/N L/N.”

“So, this new rom-com,” Maggie begins, “How did it feel to hear that you were cast together? People have been calling you two the ‘next big thing’ after how viral the announcement went.”

Nicholas chuckled, glancing at you for a split second too long. “Honestly, I didn’t expect that kind of reaction. But I can’t complain—it’s been cool seeing people get excited. And, y’know, it’s pretty exciting to be going to work with Y/N. I’m really looking forward to it.”

You try to ignore the warmth creeping up your neck at his compliment. Stay cool, you tell yourself. “Yeah, it’s been…pretty surreal. I mean, this is only my second project, so to be thrown into something so big, it’s wild. But my friends and family have been really supportive.”

“Aw, that’s so sweet!” she gushes. “You two seem to have good chemistry, even off-screen. I can tell.” You shift in your seat, hoping your nervousness wasn’t too obvious.

“So, you both came from playing in darker, heavier roles—the Menendez brothers, Bathtub Sisters—and now you’re starring in a romantic comedy together. That’s quite the shift! How’s it been adjusting to such a different genre?”

“It’s been fun,” Nicholas replies. “I mean, the last project I worked on was pretty intense, and the same goes for Y/N. Jumping into something lighthearted was a nice change of pace. Plus, rom-coms? You can’t beat that.”

You nod in agreement, trying not to blink too much under the lights. “Yeah, definitely. My first film was so dark, and this…it feels like a breath of fresh air.”

“And how about the fan reaction? It’s not every day a casting announcement gets that much attention. People are already shipping you two.”

You feel your face flush at the mention. “I’ve seen some of it,” mentally reminding yourself never to google your own name again. “It’s kind of crazy how fast things blow up.”

“Yeah, it’s wild. People really get invested in this stuff. But hey, it’s cool seeing how excited they are about the movie.” Nicholas agrees.

“So, you guys have been compared quite a bit—being cast in true crime roles, playing siblings in intense, high-profile cases. How do you feel about that?”

Nicholas turns his head to look at you; silently waiting for you to answer first. When you smile back awkwardly, he speaks up. “I think it’s pretty cool. I mean, both cases are so infamous, and it’s wild how much people gravitate toward these kinds of stories.” He pauses, turning his head toward you again.

“But you guys really knocked it out of the park with Bathtub Sisters—I was blown away.”

Surprised by the sudden compliment, you blink, trying not to let it show how flustered you felt. “Thanks, that really means a lot. I watched Monsters too, and your portrayal of Lyle Menendez was just…” you pause, searching for the right words “…insane.”

“How do you handle that kind of pressure, especially you—” the interviewer nods toward you, “since you’re still pretty new to the industry?”

You shift a little in your seat, brushing a hand through your hair. “Uh, it’s pretty overwhelming at times, but it feels like a dream — getting compared to phenomenal actors like Nicholas and Cooper is a huge honour.”

Nicholas chuckles, leaning back slightly. “Hey, don’t give me too much credit. You’re killing it girl — I wasn’t anywhere near where you are when I started.”

His easy confidence makes you relax, and the interview continues smoothly, covering your upcoming rom-com and what fans can expect. Every so often, Nicholas gives you a reassuring smile, helping to settle your nerves

As the interview wraps up and the crew begins packing, the both of you are waiting for your cars outside the studio. The air is cooler now, with evening settling in, and you fidget with the sleeve of your jacket, still feeling a bit starstruck.

“You did great in there,” Nicholas says suddenly, breaking the silence. You turn toward him, genuinely surprised.

“You think so? I felt like I was rambling half the time.”

He laughs, shaking his head. “No way. You were cute and genuine—people love that.”

A smile creeps onto your face, and you feel a little more relaxed around him.

“T-thanks.”

Nicholas’s phone buzzes in his hand, and he glances at it quickly before slipping it back into his pocket.

“Hey, I know we’ve only just started working together, but… do you wanna grab coffee sometime? No cameras, no interviews, just hang out.”

You blink, caught off guard. He’s Nicholas Alexander Chavez. He could be hanging out with anyone, and yet, here he is asking you. Your heart does a little flip.

“Yeah, I’d like that,”

“Sweet,” he says, pulling out his phone and handing it to you. His fingers brush yours briefly, and the small touch sends a rush of warmth through you. You quickly type in your number, trying to ignore the way your cheeks heat up.

He takes the phone back, flashing a smile. “I’ll text you. Promise it won’t be one of those crazy-ass 3 a.m. texts.”

You laugh, feeling your nerves start to fade completely. “Good to know. I’d hate to have to block you.”

He raises an eyebrow, “Block me? Ouch. That’s cold.”

“Boundaries, right?”

“Fair enough.”

As Nicholas heads toward his waiting car, he turns back just before getting in. “Oh, and just so you know,” he calls out with a teasing grin, “I might text you at 2:59 a.m. Just to see if you’ll actually block me.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “You’re pushing your luck.”

“Hey, I live dangerously,” he replies with a wink before sliding into the car.

As he walks away toward his waiting car, you stand there for a second, feeling a little dazed. The whole day had been a whirlwind, and now it seemed like something even crazier was about to begin. Nicholas turns back just before getting into the car, offering one last wave before he disappears into the backseat.

Maybe Nicholas and you were going to be the next big thing—but off-screen.

MLIST

 fear-is-truth 2024 — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.

[7seas-of-ryy]

I Need You | Part 2

Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

Author’s Note: I wanted to give more background before I get to the main storyline so that's what this part is all about! Thank you to everyone who took time to read Part 1, it means more than you know <3

Summary: You spend a lovely day in the city and reflect on your life so far.

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Warnings: Blood, mentions of kidnapping and torture, death, let me know if I need to add any others :)

You started off your day at a coffee shop and bakery. You took your time eating a small pastry just enjoying yourself. You already felt better compared to the terror you felt this morning. As you sat at the little table outside of the cafe, you couldn't help but people watch. You had been with the IC since before under the mountain, you witnessed so many vile acts that you liked to embrace moments like these.

So, you watched the table next to you which had a woman who appeared to be writing a book. A smile filling her face as it seemed she found the perfect word to use. Next, you spot a couple walking past the cafe with their child. All three giggling at something, hope of a bright future in their eyes. Then you see a couple at another table, gazing into each other's eyes so full of love.

You wanted that so badly, that love. But if giving up that longing part of yourself meant keeping everyone around you happy, you'd do it. Everyone always assumed you and the spymaster would end up together. You spent every available moment each of you had together. But you knew he was in love with Mor. Then Elain showed up and you witnessed them grow closer.

Azriel was never cold towards you as his affections for her grew, he just didn't see you as often. And after everything they had been through, they deserved that love. You'd accept any bit of his friendship he'd give you, like meeting at the new bakery later.

For now, you needed to stop thinking about that and just enjoy your day. It had been a while since you had a break and you knew you needed it. You were an important asset to the group which meant you were always busy with work.

Growing up, your dad loved to travel, to see different cultures. Since the day you were born, you went with him and your mom. He would travel from court to court no matter how dangerous. He even took you to the human lands, where you found a love for the mortals. Traveling all over and seeing all the different ways of life taught you so much, you became an expert on every court.

In your free time you would study the history of each court, you were highly intelligent and wanted to learn. You loved every minute of it, until a visit to the autumn court. You tried to stay hidden at the more dangerous courts, blend in to learn about them. You would set up camp far away in the woods if you had to.

One morning, you woke covered in blood. At first you believed it was yours and something had attacked you. Only for you to realize your father was laying dead in his bed and your mother was missing. There wasn't even a scratch on you. You immediately ran to see if you could find your mother but there was no trace of her.

You took off running, you didn't even have shoes on. You weren't sure how long you were running for, you didn't know where you were running to. As you were running, you saw shadows appear in front of you, then their owner. Azriel had saved you that day and brought you back to the Night Court.

Rhysand immediately offered you sanctuary and a job. You helped them with research, translations, and your knowledge of the other courts. You were never trained in the physical sense growing up, but Cassian, Azriel, Mor, and Rhysand all took you to train in your spare time.

Azriel always seemed to keep you company as you worked. That was how your friendship truly started. He was always so kind to you and his shadows loved you, wrapping themselves around you any chance they could. He started calling you sunshine one night, stating that no matter how dark he felt he knew he could always come to you for some light. That nickname stuck and everyone in the IC started calling you Sunshine. After everything that had happened to you, you were so happy to have another family.

Eventually under the mountain happened, then the war, and then you witnessed Az give Elain a beautiful necklace. Once it all settled, you knew you should just be grateful to have survived. Be grateful you have a whole day to do things you loved.

After the cafe you went to a few shops. You bought a few toys for Nyx, some jewelry for Amren, and a beautiful sketch book for Feyre. After all that shopping, you were tired and hungry. You grabbed a snack and your book you packed and head over to a big tree. You sat at the bottom of it, enjoying the shade and your book. You didn't know how long you were reading for but it seemed like the day was going by fast.

You decided to head over to the art shops just to view the beautiful pieces that were created. There were so many talented people, the paintings always left you in awe. You ended up buying a painting for your room. You were too excited to get home and put it up. After paying and talking with the artist for a while, you noticed it was almost time to meet Az.

You gathered up all of your stuff and made your way to the bakery. Az wasn't there yet so you chose to wait outside for him. Hopefully he would help you carry some of the bags. You laughed softy thinking you may have gone overboard on the shopping.

You waited and waited and still there was no sign of Azriel. You thought that it was odd seeing as he was always on time. You were starting to get a little concerned when you heard some shuffling coming from the alley on the side of the bakery.

Relief washed over you and you realized he didn't stand you up.

"Oh good, Az, I was beginning to think you forgot about me. Here, can you help me with these bags?" you spoke looking down at your shopping haul and holding them out to him.

There was no response but maybe he didn't hear you.

"Az? Are you there?" You spoke a little louder.

Suddenly a giant man with bright red hair and a sly grin walked out from the alley, no not one. Ten. Ten men walked out and as I looked around to leave I realized there was no one else out here to help me.

Then the leader of them spoke. "You know, I like kidnapping and torturing my targets, but... I love it when they're pretty little things like you."

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist :)

@darkbloodsly @xtreme-shipper @rcarbo1

[wanda-widow]

Dirty Little Secret

Bucky x Pole Dancer!Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Summary: Bucky's a sweetheart, but like everyone else, he's also got something to hide. And no one would expect the famed White Wolf to spend his evening as a strip club with a pretty thing he calls his. 

18+ MDNI

Warnings: smut, jealous Bucky, oral (f receiving), light threat, choking kink, swearing, pussy slapping (once), light/no aftercare, light fluff near the end, no use of (Y/N)

Like and reblog if you want, thank you sm for the love on my last post <3

Everyone's taken Bucky as a gentleman, especially after the takedown of the Flag Smashers. His reputation's free of red, amends made, the biggest sweetheart. The biggest sweetheart with the dirtiest secret. 

Over 70 years with no sex has got him pent up, needing release. Sure, his fist can get him off but it doesn't compare to the feeling of a warm body under his. It doesn't matter if he's giving or receiving the pleasure, he just needs sex in any form. 

There's a small but well known strip club located in the heart of Brooklyn, Bucky's favorite place on Monday, Tuesday, and Friday nights, along with weekends. His pocket is always well loaded with cash, especially with the money the government is funding him as an apology for what HYDRA put him through. 

But that's in the past and you, you are the present and future. You, who works Monday, Tuesday, and Friday nights, along with weekends. His favorite dancer and his favorite hookup. 

This Friday night is no different as he steps foot in the pounding club, eyes scanning the sweaty crowd until they land on you, just finishing your routine on stage. You're dressed in a skimpy red piece that barely leaves anything to the imagination, knee high heels adding to the appeal. His eyes rake over your body, darkening at the various bills stuffed wherever the hands could reach. Bills that should be his. Hands that should be his. 

You can practically feel his glare, eyes flitting up to meet his, calculating his expression. With a barely perceptible jerk of his head, you already know to follow him to one of the private rooms. Quickly blowing your kisses, you hurry off stage just in time to see Bucky slap a couple bills into someone's hand before they let him into the dim room, leaving the door open for you. 

The moment you step foot in the room, the door slams shut behind you and you can feel him behind you, radiating anger and something else. Jealousy. 

"I thought I told you to wait for me" he growled into your ear, vibranium fist clenching against the wall. His other hand comes to rest on your waist, a mockery of affection before whatever comes next. 

"I did but you didn't come on time" you shrugged, the excuse sounding lame to even you. "I needed the money, you know that" 

"I said I would pay you extra for your time" he retorted, plucking the bills out from your bra one by one before tossing them somewhere in the room. You barely get the chance to open your mouth to respond when you feel a cold metal hand spin you around and wrap around your throat, just barely applying pressure. 

"Since you didn't wait, I don't see a point in paying you extra" he breathed out, thumb sliding up to tilt your chin up, his lips ghosting over yours. His arousal is evident against your thigh, your body shifting instinctively so he's nestled right against your core. 

"I'll give you better service for more money" you offered, already sinking to your knees for him. Truth is, if you didn't need the money so desperately, you'd do anything for free for this man. 

Bucky almost caved but shook his head, tugging you back up. "I don't have time" he muttered, frustrated as he checked his watch before spotting the loveseat in the corner of the room. Leading you there, he tugged you into his lap, lips meeting your eagerly as you melted into his hold. His tongue swiped along your bottom lip before you parted your lips, tongues sliding deliciously. 

You were already grinding against him on instinct when he gripped your hips to stop you. 

"Get on your back" he muttered, already doing the act for you as he flipped your positions and then settled on the floor to be face to face with your soaked panties. 

"Already so wet for me... or is this from all those other men giving you money, hm? You don't need anything from me anymore, might as well make this our last session" he taunted,  his metal hand sliding up your thigh teasingly, goosebumps following in his trail.  

"No, no... no, no just you. Only you get me soaked" you whined, missing the way he smirked at your desperate words. 

He let out a hum before carefully sliding your panties down your legs, tucking them in his back pocket as he spread your thighs wider. You clenched around nothing in anticipation, letting out a quiet gasp when he ran a finger up your slit, gathering your slick. 

"So pretty..." he murmured, glancing at you as he kissed up your inner thighs. "So perfect" 

You squirmed, almost about to beg for him to touch you when he ran his tongue through your folds, a moan tumbling past your lips as your hips canted up. 

"Such a pretty pussy for a pretty girl" he smirked, tongue doing circles on your clit before he took it between his lips and sucked lightly. 

"B-Bucky- ah... need more..." you moaned, fingers fisting in his hair, lips set into a pout. 

"I don't think you deserve it" he chided, his flesh hand sliding under your back to pull you closer to him. "You're lucky I'm fond of you"

He slipped two metal fingers into you, curling them so they hit your sweet spot that he knew so well. His tongue worked quickly over your clit, flicking back and forth, his fingers pumping with the obscene shlick shlick shlick, already building you towards your orgasm. 

"Are you gonna wait for me tomorrow instead of throwing yourself on stage for the world to see?" he asked, purposely slowing his fingers as you whined from the fading pleasure. His thumb pressed down on your clit, your hips bucking up into the pressure.

"Yes, yes I'll wait for you" you cried out when his flesh hand came down on your clit. 

"Good girl" he growled before his mouth attached back onto your sensitive bundle of nerves. His fingers slipped back into your pussy, curling and pumping eagerly, your walls starting to flutter around him from the building pleasure. 

One last swipe of his tongue on your clit had you unraveling, his eyes watching as your back arched off the couch, legs shaking and clamping around his head as his fingers worked you through your high. The cries of his name falling from your lips mixed in with curses and moans were heavenly. He tucked the sounds away to memory, his cock throbbing against his jeans but he could take care of that problem later. 

He drew gentle circles on your clit, huffing softly when your body jerked in response to the overstimulation. You felt a couple bills flutter down onto your flushed skin, not bothering to count them when you felt him lean down next to your ear. 

"If you're really worried about money, just tell me. I can cover it, doll" he said softly, brushing some hair out of your face before leaving a quick kiss on your lips. 

You nodded, shifting so that you were sitting up on the couch, noticing that the bills littering your skin were hundreds. 

"If you forget our agreement tomorrow, consider your orgasms also forgotten" he said casually before the door slammed shut behind him, leaving you dazed and always, always wanting more. 

Part 2

[yan-lorkai]

Hi!! I loved your hcs of the Octotrio with a yuu that seems to only have a talent in art. I related to it a lot because sometimes I feel like I’m not good at anything else other than drawing.

I was wondering if you could do the same prompt with Riddle, Ace, Deuce, Cater, Leona, Malleus & the Scarabia boys please? If that’s too many you can just do Leona, Malleus, & Scarabia. Thank you 😊

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: I guess everyone has one of those episodes, huh? I've been writing for more than 8 years now and sometimes I get hit by the "aa but I'm only good at writing, I should totally try something" and then I try something new and hate it bcs I really love to write and nothing can compare lmao. Anyway, I hope you like this darling, I did all the characters requested too btw ~

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Ace would be playful and encouraging, but his competitive nature would lead him to manipulate situations to keep you close. He’d play little tricks to make sure you stay dependent on him, offering "helpful" critiques that subtly undermine your confidence in anything but your art. His lighthearted facade would hide a deeper need to be the center of your attention, he is your muse, the one you use to practice, the who inspires you, making sure that you see him as the only one who truly understands and supports you, all while ensuring you don't realize how he’s subtly sabotaging any other talents you might want to try to explore, for he fears you will not want to spend more time with him anymore if that was the case.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Cater would use his social media prowess to make you art the talk of the school, ensuring your work — and by extension, his support — is always in the spotlight. However, his validation would come with a price, as he subtly isolates you from others, creating an environment where you feel your art is only appreciated by him and his curated audience. Cater’s charming persona would hide his darker intentions, as he manipulates your into believing that your worth is tied to the art you create under his influence, all while keeping you emotionally dependent on his constant praise. You're already good at other things, so surely you don't need to have another hobby, right?

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Deuce, unlike Ace, would be fiercely protective of your artistic talent. He’d encourage your art with an almost desperate intensity, pushing you to try different brushes and pens, different scenarios and things, but he'd also pressure you to stay focused on what your good at, ensuring you don’t waste time on things you never tried before. His possessiveness would manifest in his need to be your protector, to the point where he'd become intimidating towards anyone who tries to steer you away from your art, that does not apply to yourself, while he think your drawings / paintings are very beautiful, he would not force you to make it more if you're having an episode where you doubt your skills and think you are good only on the art field. If you want to explore new things, Deuce will be by your side the entire time.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Riddle would be intensely supportive yet controlling, pushing you to perfect your craft while ensuring you don't stray too far from his strict rules, even more if you are already his lover. His obsession with your success would become borderline suffocating, as he constantly monitors your progress and enforces discipline to keep you on the right path, nurturing your already beautiful talent. To Riddle, your art is flawless, it's personal and have a touch of you in every drawing, be it digital or traditional. When you come to tell him about your doubts, about how you're only good at art, Riddle promptly sooth you with gentle words, albeit he is a little awkward while talking. He offer to teach you about whatever you want to learn but be prepared because he is somewhat a strict teacher.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Leona would admire your dedication to your art, and he would ask questions about it too, learning as much as your interest as possible. However, his possessiveness would be almost primal, keeping you close under the guise of protection, ensuring you don’t waste time on anything — or anyone — else. Leona would be dismissive of your attempts to explore other talents, reinforcing that your art is the only thing that matters. His control would be subtle yet overpowering, as he ensures your world revolves around him and your art, leaving you with little room for anything else.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Malleus would shower you with endless admiration, captivated by your artistic talent, even more if you were influenced by an artistic movement. He'll notice all the little details, the subtle way the traces converge, how the color scheme is perfect, the way the shadows and the light reflect. He is your number 1 fan, so supportive of you. However, his intense fascination would drag you into his lonely world, where your art becomes your only outlet and he is your audience - though he has your drawings framed and hung on the walls of the castles, so everyone can look at it and admire. Malleus may not understand your struggles and why would you want to pursue another hobby, but he can arrange anything you may want to try at least once, from singing and dancing to sewing and knitting, even the art of potion making, archery or fencing. He just know you're going to find something you like as much as your art, and if you are happy so is he.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Jamil would secretly nurture your talent, subtly guiding your creativity while undermining any attempts you make to excel elsewhere, he sees your art as something free and with many meanings - it makes him relaxed in some sort of way and Jamil wants to be a little greedy here, he wants you to continue creating more pieces, always keeping you under his watchful eye as you started drawing / painting. There's just something so intimate, so calming about it he can't wrap his head around. He loves watching you creating your art, feeling is guard lowering just a little. If you ever approach him with your doubts, Jamil take you to the kitchen so he can teach you a few things about cooking. It's a different kind of art but when all is said and done, it's just as good as when you're creating and make you feeling accomplished.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Kalim would be so overwhelmingly supportive and enthusiastic about it, showering you with gifts and opportunities to nurture your artistic talent, buying everything you may need to create your art, a new software? Sure, no problem, he brought the most expensive one too. A few new pencils and pens? Right away. You need more frames and paints? It will be here in a couple of hours. However, his naivety mixed with possessiveness would lead to unintentional control over your life, as he tries to keep you happy and close by his side. Kalim’s well-meaning gestures would create a gilded cage, where your art flourishes but your freedom is slowly stripped away. He would be oblivious to the suffocating effect of his love, believing that as long as you're happy creating art with him, nothing else matters, leaving you feeling trapped and not knowing how to communicate with him. He have done so much for you already!

[kentopedia]

seeds of doubt

ft. dazai, chuuya, fyodor

summary — you don't feel like you’re good enough for them

contents — they comfort you when you’re feeling insecure about your relationship, sfw !!

notes — my other dazai wip is taking a while, so i decided to finish this one! i started it a few wks ago but since i’ve been feeling a lil down lately, i decided it was time for a comfort piece!

₊˚⊹♡ DAZAI

when you'd come home from work that evening, dazai had already known something was wrong. your usually bright smile didn't quite reach your eyes, your shoulders slumping the moment you crossed the threshold of your home.

dazai hadn't pushed you, but he had drawn you up tight in his arms, held you close when you breathed heavily into his shoulder, releasing all the tension in your body. his fingertips were soothing along your neck, massaging small, relaxing circles.

for the past hour, though it was nearing dinnertime, you'd found yourself buried in blankets, so warmly entangled with him, even when all of your hypercritical thoughts threatened to chill you to the core.

dazai spoke to you softly, asking you questions about your day for a while, ones that you refused to answer. you kept your eyes glued to the screen, watching mindlessly as a movie played, one that neither of you were paying any attention to.

that continued on for as long as he could stand it.

finally, with a sigh, dazai paused the film. he shifted, turning so that you were both face to face, his long limbs twisting around your own. limbs that were always so solid and warm, despite the iciness of his hands.

"kunikida told me what you said."

hesitantly, you stared back with wide eyes, jaw clenching. already, you knew what dazai was talking about. it was something that you'd told kunikida in confidence, because of all the members of the agency, you'd been certain that he was the least likely to spill your true feelings.

you stared back at him blankly, your shoulders stiffening. "hm? we talked a lot today. i'm not sure i know—"

though you pretended not to remember, dazai didn't let you run away from the question.

his lips fell into a frown, unamused. he drew your name out on an exhale, before running his palm over your cheek, across your chin, dipping his fingers into your hair. "don't bother. he's already mad enough at himself for telling me, but he hated how upset you were about it."

"osamu," you began. "i don't—"

"why did you tell him that you think you're not good enough for me?"

the seriousness in his deep brown eyes was so different than his usual playfulness, and you almost withdrew from them, curving deeper into yourself.

though, alongside the stoicism of his expression was something so melancholy, you found yourself offering your unfiltered emotions instead.

a long pause ensued. you breathed.

"because it's true," you finally whispered, your words wispy. "i'm not good enough for you, osamu." you swallowed when his face fell even further. "you're so smart, so handsome. you make me laugh all the time." your eyes grew hot as you felt tears at the edges of them. "i'm so plain compared to you."

"plain?" he repeated back, so wildly upset that you found yourself at a loss for words. "how can you say that, any of that, when i'm the one that's not good enough for you?"

despite yourself, you cracked a smile at his overzealous need to change the narrative. "don't say that just to make me feel better.”

"i'm not.” he frowned, his lips puckering as he held your cheeks, elongating each of the letters. "you're beautiful. inside and out. in a way that i can never be." he kissed the tip of your nose, smiling as you swatting him away. "i'm certainly not funny to everyone, either. i make you laugh only because i love you, and i want to see you smile." he kissed you between the eyebrows, then, this time laughing when the skin wrinkled there. "and i'm smart because i have to be, because i don't want to see the people i care about get hurt if i can do something to stop it." his expression softened at your glossy eyes, the way you slowly melted under his touch.

you let the words sink in, each one slowly chipping away at the doubt that had clouded you. dazai had never looked at you with anything but adoration in his eyes, something he spared for you and you alone, even when you felt unworthy of it.

"you could have anyone you wanted, osamu,” you said, the honest truth twisting something deep within you. “anyone at all.”

"funny," he said, tilting his head as he studied you carefully. "i've always thought the same thing about you."

₊˚⊹♡ CHUUYA

“i’m home,” you heard chuuya shout down the hall. he was always careful to alert you of his presence every time he returned, never wanting you to fear that his enemies had found his home, leaving you vulnerable.

you sniffed, some form of acknowledgement as you swirled the alcohol in the glass, pouring it down your throat. it burned on the way down, a buzz already at the edge of your mind, your thoughts slowing as you it sank into your bloodstream.

chuuya didn’t say anything more as he came into the room, kicking off his shoes and hanging up his hat and coat. there was a healed cut running down his left arm, a cluster of bruises on his left.

even though he’d gone on a dangerous mission earlier, he’d come home relatively unscathed.

despite your endless relief, it only did more to fuel your insecurities, the knowledge that compared to all his infinite glory, you were a lackluster, powerless no one.

you poured another glass, unbeknownst to the fact that chuuya was speaking to you at all.

“what?” you turned, the word slurring; you weren’t even sure what set of syllables had left your lips at all.

chuuya made a face as your head plopped down on the table, your eyes red from the tears you'd expelled. “is something wrong? it’s a little early for this, isn’t it?”

you stared at him, and though he was amused, you turned away, feeling the sour emotion of doubt lodge deep in your chest. “no,” you said in a small voice, turning away from chuuya.

he paused for a moment, his expression sobering before he took the seat next to you. chuuya held out a gloved hand, one that you could only see from your peripheral vision. “you expect me to believe that?”

“nothing’s wrong, chuuya,” you muttered, as sharply as you could in your current state. your arm grew numb under the weight of your head, throat sore from your earlier sobs. “i’m fine.”

chuuya sighed and took the bottle from you. even as you protested, every inch of his expression was so caring and delicate.

“that’s how i know you’re not fine.” he ran a hand over your hair, flattening it as you looked up at him from under wet eyelashes. “please tell me what’s wrong. i don’t like to see you sad, baby.”

though you wanted desperately to keep your mouth shut, you were too drunk to hold in the words. you leaned into his touch, letting the tears roll down your cheeks once more as panic grew in chuuya's eyes.

“i just think you deserve someone better than me, chuuya."

his brow wrinkled, and he blinked twice before shaking his head, puzzled. “what?”

you buried your head further into your forearms, unable to look at him any longer. despite your embarrassment, your lips didn't stop moving, releasing every little secret you'd bottled up since you'd met him

“you deserve someone you don’t have to worry about every time you’re away." you swallowed. "i’m not strong like you, chuuya, i don’t have any special ability that can save me from enemies." you thought of all the people he worked with, all of the ability users in the city that could compliment him so perfectly. "someone out there is a perfect match for you… i just don't think it's me.” you looked back at him, with teary, red eyes, right into his own sullen ones.

he scoffed, but his expression was gentle, open, fingers curling delicately around your wrist. "well, you're certainly wrong about that."

you curled yourself into a ball, resisting him, looking down at his knees instead of his eyes.

“none of that matters to me. i love you just the way you are. even if you were the strongest in the whole world, i'd still do everything in my power to keep you safe.”

you rubbed your cheeks, frowning as chuuya began reeling you in, grabbing you by the wrist to tug you onto his lap. “chuuya..." you said, hesitating as he planted you on his thighs, lips pulled tight in complete sincerity as he spoke his next words.

“i don’t care about anyone else. they could have all the power in the world, and it wouldn’t matter because they wouldn’t be you." he held you steady, one hand on your hip as he let the other caress your cheek gently. "i'll never want anyone else, okay?"

you nodded, though the sadness didn't dispel so easily from your face.

chuuya sighed, offering you as much of a smile as he could, even though he knew it wouldn't be a magic solution to cheer you up. "i'll remind you every day if i have to."

₊˚⊹♡ FYODOR

your hands curled in the water, tracing patterns throughout the soap and bubbles as your thoughts consumed you. it was just after midnight, but you'd woken up alone in your bed, full of thoughts that seemed determined to convince you that you'd never be enough.

though you'd gotten better at dispelling those dismal emotions, they dug their claws in deep this time. you'd crawled out of the cold sheets and drawn yourself a bath, hopeful that it would clear your mind.

fyodor had disappeared, and you weren't sure if he was in another room or if he had left your home completely.

it was quiet, but that told you little; he was always so silent, sneaking up on you with footsteps that never made a sound.

the door creaked open not a moment later, as if he had heard your thoughts. you didn't look over at him, but he sat beside the tub, his slender fingers curling over the porcelain.

"is everything alright?" he asked, his voice soft in the dim bathroom, illuminated only by candles and moonlight. "it's late."

you hummed, and contemplated voicing your thoughts at all. but you were half asleep, drowsy, and it didn't seem to matter what you said. the feelings would still be there, whether you voiced them or not.

still, you hesitated. "am i enough for you?"

you spared him a glance, and his eyes were wide, surprised by your simple question. a brief pause, before he answered, almost gently. "have i made you feel that you are not?"

you leaned your head against the edge of the tub, staring at the ceiling, the cracks in the paint, the uneven texture.

"i sometimes wonder if i'm just a hindrance to your plans." you breathed, thoughtful as he waited for you to finish. "i feel that maybe you'd be better off without me."

fyodor said nothing as you laid in the water, the temperature dropping with each passing minute. quietly, he discarded his clothes, keeping his eyes on you as he climbed into the tub to sit across from you.

he whispered your name once, but you remained silent, breathing in and out, trying to calm your mind.

"would you look at me?” fyodor asked, and the softness in his words was enough.

you sat up, pulling your legs closer to make space for him, even though he held your calf, drew himself towards you instead.

"you know that i do not make decisions lightly, and yet, i decided to share my heart and soul with you." he caressed your knee before letting his hand fall into the water, tracing patterns around your shin. you shivered. "do you really think i would have devoted my time to you if i ever intended on letting you go? if i didn't need you?"

"i know." you frowned, fully aware that it was true, to the deepest part of your soul. still, there was an ache in your mind, one that wouldn’t just go away with his pretty words. "but i can't help the way i sometimes feel."

fyodor smiled, his eyes crinkling ever so slightly at the corners. "i know," he said, and when he had you close, he dipped his head to kiss your bare shoulder. "but you do not need to hide that from me. i am here for you, always." he squeezed your hand. "i apologize if i am not always the best at showing that."

his touch was cold in the exposed bathroom air. "and when you achieve your goals, what will become of me? will you dispose of me, along with everyone else who stops being of used to you?"

"of course not." a laugh escaped him, like your question was unfathomable. "even then, you will be right by my side." he held your jaw tenderly as he forced you to look deep into his eyes. "you are mine forever, don't you understand? just as i am yours.”

dash is a teensy bit dead rn, but i want to let this one go so i can focus on my other wips <3. this was so nice to write though :))

[buckysegan]

We've been waiting for you, John Egan

summary: there's more waiting for john when he gets back from stalag luft iii. john egan x she. word count: 2.1K a/n: something in me felt a little feral tonight and this was needed. a little curvy fmc mention but nothing too much. i just love john egan and would give him all my babies i guess??? again we're rolling with some historical inaccuracies. a continuation from here

it had been five hundred and fifty one days. that was how long it had been since she had seen major john egan. that long since she had slept a whole nights sleep without worrying. that long since she'd known what i was like to be really settled. she tried not to think about it, how much time had passed and how hope seemed to get a little bit worse with each passing day. but it was so hard when she had such obvious proof of just how much john was missing whilst he was away.

she hadn't even realised at first, what the signs were. she had been so consumed in work with more pilots to care for in the hospital than ever before she had barely noticed that she was tired. the nausea was just a sure sign of how much she was missing john. she was confident of it. despite her not eating, the swell of her already generous hips was inconsequential compared to the rest of her worries so she barely paid attention to any of it.

it was douglass, sweet douglass that made the first joke about how if he didn't know better with how often he'd seen her run away to throw up he'd assumed she was pregnant. after that it hadn't taken long for the room to fall silent and for everyone to slowly do some of their own math. the other nurses has scooped her up, rushed her away to the infirmary and sat with her as she did her own calculations on what had happened. three months since she had last bled. dear god.

she should have been sent home. everyone around her knew that was likely when her bump started to show under her uniform and she was ready too, to be sent home and discharged, but the hundredth had always been an unruly bunch and it was almost as if no one could bare to send her away just in case. what would egan do if he got back and they weren't here? no one asked her, who the father might have been, everyone knew without anyone having to utter the words, hardin pulled plenty of strings to keep her around for his boys.

weeks of knowing, turned into months and each of the men around her stepped up in place of their friend. blakely rubbed at her shoulders when she looked a little tired. crosby was around day or night to fetch anything she might have needed. rosie tossed out baby names for girls and boys alike, offering sincere ones and ones that he knew would make her laugh. jack left the traded jacket for her on her bed and no one said a damn thing when she wore it around base. each of them did their best but when she laid on her bunk at night, hands cradling her bump it didn't take away the longing for her major.

those quiet times were when she let herself imagine what it would be like if all of this was happening at different times. how much larger johns rough hands would look splayed across her stretched stomach. just how good he would be at building things ready for the baby and preparing for their impending arrival. the soft spoken words that would have been offered in encouragement through her doubt.

it was two hundred and eighty two days since she had seen john, when the screams of a baby boy filled out a hospital wing and cheers of the hundred went up at the sound. a new soul welcomed into the world and surrounded with so much love despite the fact his dad was stuck somewhere out there.

jokes were passed around at the spirit of baby egan and the hope that he offered for the men. every time the men went up, there he was in the tower reminding them what they were all fighting to come back for. what good in the world still made it all worth while. as cheesy as she had always found it, she knew that the saying it took a village to raise a child had never been truer than it was here in thorpe abbotts.

gale cried when he saw them for the first time. the woman he knew his best friend had been fighting for and the bundle of brown curls in her arms. guilt flooding him that john had allowed him to escape when he had this to return home too. a family. a pair of matching blue and a smile that warmed his heart waiting for him to make it back. he told her as much, that he was sorry and it should have been bucky that made it home and she was quick to remind him that, john egan, wouldn't be the man either of them loved if he had ever left buck behind.

the days seemed to be longer now gale had made it home and she was still waiting on her bucky. each laugh her son offered and mile stone he hit causing a contradiction of emotions in her. joy that she got to witness it all and devastation john was missing it all.

it had been five hundred and fifty one days. that's how long she had been counting when blakely flew into the hospital, douglass and crosby on his tail. "john's home." the two words alone were enough to make her knees buckle as she looked back at the trio, who were all seemingly holding their breaths as they waited for her to respond. she would have cried, with joy, with relief, with the overwhelming sense of emotion that flooded through her. she was going to cry, she was sure of it but right now she needed to see john and she needed to make some introductions. with gale still away on relief mission, everyone knew who john would be asking for first.

bucky could feel something was wrong the second he landed. people had been happy to see him for sure, but there was a buzz around the boys. they were all looking at each other, over him, like they were all sharing a secret he couldn't be privy to right now. it was driving him crazy and that was saying something.

"buck alright?" he found himself asking because if anyone liked to tiptoe around him, it was usually around his best friend but everyone seemed to jovial for that to be the case. even kenny was here with that god damn stupid grin on his face that the rest of them seemed to be wearing. what was he missing?

"yea bucks fine, he's flying today but nothing to worry about, just dropping supplies, we just thought there might be someone else you wanted to see." blakely offered with a nod of his head, and john was sure his face was a continued picture of confusion as he watched the men part like some sort of celebrity was on base but his frown quickly vanished as he saw her. the last time he had seen her this clearly she had kissed him goodbye before they had dragged themselves away from each other.

"we've been waiting for you, john egan." god her voice was even sweeter then he remembered but it was the we in her statement that drew his attention to the small bundle in her arms. a baby. a boy by the looks of it and he felt his stomach drop. she had moved on, of course she had. without him around he wasn't surprised that someone else had scooped her up. he moved to look at each of his men, trying to find which one looked guilty but he was met with more excitement, a little confusion even, what were they surprised he was heart broken she hadn't waited for him.

"you going to stand there all day or are you going to come meet him?" she asked, voice soft as she raised a hand to him and bucky moved towards her without much of a thought because no one seemed ready to stop him and his fingers linked with hers as soon as they were in reach. "you had a baby." john smiled down at her softly, eyes full of wonder as he looked at the small version of herself that she had created.

" i sure did." she nodded with a smile the men hadn't seen in months, the one reserved just for bucky. "i'd like you to meet thomas gale egan." time stood still for a moment then, john was sure of it as he looked between her and the baby she was holding, his blue eyes taking in each feature of the infant before him. their eyes matched he realised after a moment, the dark curls on his head were the wrong shade to be hers, they were his. she was holding his son. "baby...you had my baby?" he asked, as if he needed some sort of further confirmation of what his eyes at told him.

"mhumm, i told you, we've been waiting for you, do you want to hold him?" she offered, her face a mirror of the men around them, all smiles and joy and as john took tommy in his hands with such care she stopped trying to fight the tears that had been ready to spill since she'd heard he was home. with tears rolling down his own cheeks john took in the baby that watched him with what he hoped was quiet wonder, he had a whole baby boy that he had never known about and he was perfect. "thomas gale egan, it sure is good to meet you." reaching a spare arm around her bucky pulled his girl close to his side, unable to move his gaze from his son.

"alright any of you clowns going to tell me what else i missed whilst i was gone?"

he had been sure that he would sleep for hours when he returned to base. that his body would crash and that he would need time to recover but he had never felt more wired than he did as he stretched out in bed. it had taken john far to long to shake the rest of the boys, listening to stories of how each of them had helped his girl at some point. stories of all tommy's firsts since he had been born, the photos they'd managed to get all offered to john so he could piece together the time he had missed.

he'd stepped away from them only to check on gale when he had landed who had offered him the biggest grin and wondered if he had met his name sake yet, john still unable to believe she had named their boy so well.

nothing about his should have surprised him though, she was perfect, she had been before he had gone and now as he watched her tucked into his side sleeping softly like her own body could finally rest. tommy was spread across his chest, warm skin to skin, sound sleep on him with his little mouth wide opened as he showed no sign of being anything other that utterly content as he slept on his dad, one of john's hand spread across his tiny back taking up the whole space but to afraid to let him or his mom go as if either of them might vanish on him.

feeling her stir a little in his arms john pulled his gaze from tommy for a second to meet sleepy eyes, his chest flooding with more love for her than he had ever thought possible when he'd had to leave her a life time ago now. "you struggling to sleep?" she asked, her voice thick with sleep as she checked on tommy for a second before her eyes met john's once more. "i'm scared i'm still in that camp and neither of you are real." his confession was quiet as he offered it and with a soft hum, she pushed gently, pressing her lips to his. "sleep daddy, we will both be here in the morning."

"i just want to watch him a little longer." john offered quietly, tucking her back into his arm so she could sleep once more. if he never slept again it wouldn't be a shock to him. how he was ever meant to stop looking at this? well bucky just didn't know. "thanks for waiting for me, baby." he offered, to her sleeping form, lips pressing a kiss to the top of her own curls. he'd been waiting for them too, he'd just not known how to dare dream of it, till they were here in his arms.

[emphistic]

Alexithymia

Things Reader Should Acknowledge: this is part of my Boy Nextdoor Series, reader and sukuna are in highschool, and they have yet to start dating,

Synopsis: When someone just won't leave you alone, Sukuna decides to take matters into his own hands.

A/N: I'm trying something new: writing from Sukuna's pov, this took me way longer than it should have

Taglist: @starlets-things

Please REFRAIN from REPOSTING MY WORK (REBLOGS ARE EXEMPTED FROM THIS RULE)

Sukuna couldn't stand this new guy — Luke.

Luke has been following you around campus all day, like a lost puppy. Sukuna knew better; Sukuna knew that this was all just an act — that sooner or later, Luke would try to get in your pants.

He's seen this happen to you before. It resulted in his shirt being stained with your tears as you cried in his arms.

Sukuna wondered why this made him so mad, why the ache in his heart increased, why you — the smartest in the class — couldn't even realize what you were doing to him.

Usually, you and Sukuna walk to class together. Actually, scratch that. You and Sukuna always walk to class together. But that almost changed today.

Sukuna told you that he had to use the bathroom, and to just wait outside for him — which is what you did. But when Sukuna finished his business and came outside, expecting to see you — which he he did; he did see you — but he didn't see just you. A blonde boy; Luke, was also there, attempting to look cool by leaning against the locker, and he was talking to you.

The pink-haired teen could've sworn that smoke came out from his ears at the sight before him. That Luke boy was taking up all of your attention that you didn't even notice that Sukuna had finished up in the restroom.

Sukuna approached you from behind, and put a firm hand on your shoulder, making you jolt in surprise before realizing it was just Sukuna.

"Oh, hey, 'Kuna! We were just talking about you," your cheery voice lightened Sukuna's mood just a bit, "this is Luke. He's new — just moved here from [insert city]. That's where you lived before moving here, right?"

Sukuna grunted in reply.

"See, you guys already have something in common."

Bless your sweet heart for trying.

Luke avoided Sukuna's eyes, "Uh, haha, yeah. Anyways, about what I asked you earlier—"

"What did you ask her about?" Sukuna asked, raising a brow.

"He was offering to walk me to class. Um, so about that—"

"Sorry, Kid. I'm already walking her to class. Besides, it's better that way. We have Chemistry together. Wouldn't wanna be late to your first class, Bud."

"Sorry, what? I'm in the same year as you. I am not a kid."

"Oh, my bad. I just assumed your age there. I was going off of your short stature."

You turned around to swat at Sukuna's arm, "Don't be mean. He's not even short, you're just a giant compared to everyone else."

Sukuna rolled his eyes, and took your arm, dragging you off to class and away from this wannabe.

"Hey, what's your problem? He was literally trying to be nice, like, I know we walk together but you could've at least told him that in a nicer way."

"My problem, is that that boy won't leave you alone. Can't he just take the hint that we're busy, and he's wasting our time?" Sukuna tightened his grip on your arm, and picked up his pace, you had to practically sprint to match his speed.

"Are you serious right now, Sukuna? He is not wasting my time. He's just being nice."

Nice? Were you that oblivious? Sukuna would show you what being nice really was.

The pink-haired teen groaned, "Again with that word, huh?"

And with that, the two of you guys enter the lab without another word.

You were fuming, why was Sukuna making this a whole ordeal? What does he have against Luke? (These questions were better left unanswered.)

Lunch wasn't any better. Sukuna sat across from you, as per usual, with your guys' friend groups as well. Only difference was a fly buzzing in your ear. Not literally, of course. But someone very much like it.

"So," Luke began — with his mouth full of food (to which you mentally gagged), "you free, this afternoon? I have this assignment and I'm sorta confused about it. I heard you're quite the smartie pants." You cringed at his words, again.

"I . . . actually—"

"If you're confused, just ask your teacher. It's really not that difficult," Sukuna quipped.

This time, you didn't scold Sukuna. After all, Luke was being an absolute pain in your ass.

Luke frowned, finally closing his mouth.

Thank the heavens, you sighed.

Sukuna noticed your relief, and smirked. He was glad you finally saw past Luke's façade.

Eventually, the bell rang, and most people started to throw away their trash and exit the cafeteria, you and Sukuna included.

You stood on your tippy toes in order to whisper in his ear, "I see why you were annoyed earlier. Hopefully Luke doesn't have the same class as us."

Today the universe was on your side, because guess who came waltzing into your English class? That's right, the annoying fly from earlier.

Sukuna facepalmed in disbelief, while you shrunk in your seat — hoping that Luke wouldn't notice you and the pink-haired boy sitting in the back, nonetheless, the empty desk right beside you.

Spoiler alert, none of your wishes were granted. Nada.

Luke practically skipped to his seat, and sat down on your right. All the while, your teacher droned on with her lesson.

You messily jotted down notes, and daydreamed for the majority of class.

Sukuna seethed with anger as he watched Luke slowly — but surely — edge his chair closer and closer to yours. You, on the other hand, seemed to not even notice the blonde's actions.

"—so, kids, I will be assigning a group project worth 35% of your grade. It will be due—"

Luke immediately put his arm around your shoulder, "Let's work together. It'll be super fun, you can come over to my house, tonight!"

Something in Sukuna snapped, he saw red. If he was a volcano, he would surely be erupting right now, "That's just too bad, Blondie. 'Cause she's working with me." Sukuna put his arm around your shoulder, pulling you to his chest.

Luke's expression twisted into looking utterly appalled by Sukuna. However, the pink-haired teen remained stoic.

Luke turned to you, to see how you would react, but you avoided his gaze. "Sorry, Luke. I'm sure there's someone else you can work with?"

Luke scoffed.

"Whatever." He muttered, under his breath, before storming off to elsewhere.

You turned to Sukuna and gently rubbed his arm in a coaxing manner, "Don't hurt him. Please."

Sukuna sighed — a long, deep sigh.

The rest of the day went by quickly, you and Sukuna forgot about Luke — almost as if he never even happened. You packed up your stuff and began the usual walk home.

Sukuna made small talk with you, his hands were stuffed in his pockets.

Jazz music played from nearby cafes, and bookstores. He noticed your gaze lingering on some windows. You stared especially long at a plushie of a hideous beast (Sukuna's way of saying animal).

Sukuna scoffed, "You seriously into that ugly shit?"

You laughed, "Well, I'm friends with you. So I guess you could say I like ugly things."

Sukuna rolled his eyes, a smile tugging at his lips. You made a mental note of him not denying the word "friends".

A fortnight had passed — since your meeting with Luke, and as you liked to call it; 'twas the season of love.

Unlike you, Sukuna frowned when he saw what day it was — the 14th of February. He groaned, and fell back asleep with an arm over his eyes.

The only reason Sukuna even made it to school was that you wouldn't stop spamming his phone with calls.

You had to practically drag him onto campus.

It was funny though, every class you entered, there was at least someone who gave you chocolates, or flowers, or both! Sukuna stifled many sneezes on that day, poor baby. Actually — not really.

You weren't the only one with many admirers, you see. Sukuna had many girls (guys as well) come up to him during class, during break, even when he was in the bathroom there were people trying to barge in.

Your day was going really well, well . . . until the end of school. Sukuna was about to head out through the school gates, when he noticed you weren't by his side anymore. His head whipped around to see none other than that blondie by your side.

Sukuna sighed, loudly. He thought he was finally free from this annoyance, but guess not.

"—I got you these chocolates, Y/N. Happy Valentine's Day!" Luke smiled.

You took the heart shaped box into your arms, "Thanks, Luke. I . . . appreciate it!" You struggled to find the words.

"Of course. I mean, a girl as beautiful as you deserves only the best, right?" Luke saw Sukuna standing just a few feet away from you, and sped up his speech, "A-anyways, bye, Y/N." The blonde boy sprinted away, almost tripping every few steps.

You sighed, and walked back towards Sukuna. He recognized the chocolates as a cheap brand from some drug store he visited to buy his grandpa's meds.

He looked at the box and rolled his eyes.

"Haven't we tried these chocolates before already? I thought you hated them," Sukuna scoffed.

You nodded, "It's not his fault. He just didn't know."

"Sure."

That same evening, you came over to Sukuna's house for your guys' weekly movie night. You had brought the chocolates you received at school and you shared them with Sukuna — he also had the chocolates he received.

A rom com played on the TV in Sukuna's room, the both of you were comfortably seated on his bed. You had your knees up to your chest, and a blanket wrapped around your whole body. Sukuna was different; he sat cross-legged, with only a pillow on his lap.

Then, he remembered.

"I'll be right back." The pink-haired teen abruptly stood up, temporarily blocking the screen with his tall figure, and stalked away to his closet. He slid the doors open and took out an Amazon box.

He presented it to you, and you asked, cocking your head to the side, "What's this?"

"Ignore the box, I had nothing else to put it in." He gestured for you to hurry up and open it. And that's what you did. Sukuna remained standing, near the bed.

Your eyes instantly lit up, a wide smile on your face.

"Aww, 'Kuna! You didn't have to." Inside the Amazon box was a pack of chocolates — that you actually liked — and the plushie you were staring at while walking home from school one day.

"I love it! Thanks a bunch!" You got up to your knees to reach Sukuna's face — you were still a little too short, so you pulled him down — and kissed him on the cheek, right as the couple on the screen kissed as well.

Sukuna looked taken aback, shocked, but not displeased — quite the opposite, really. He didn't know having a girl kiss him would feel so, so . . . what? He didn't know the right word for it. He didn't have the right word for it.

He turned around, concealing his reddening face, "It was no big deal, I just wanted to use you to get me something back for White Day."

You giggled, seeing the tips of his ears turning pink. He was lying, and you knew that.

When Sukuna finally calmed his pounding heart, he turned back around and sat on the bed next to you.

You could clearly see a stamp of your lip gloss stained onto his pale cheek, and you giggled again.

God, since when was your laughter like music from Heaven? Sukuna thought.

His heart was racing, again.

The night ended with you showering Sukuna with kisses all over his face, except for his lips. The movie was long forgotten.

Sukuna loved it. He loved the feeling of your lips all over him. He loved the ecstasy, the bliss, after it all. He loved you.

It's safe to say that you could not stop laughing at seeing his stained face. Seeing him covered in your kiss marks made you kiss him even more.

You took a picture of him, pictures actually. Enough pictures to fill up a 365 paged book. And you even got to capture a picture of him smiling, very different from the usual scowl on his face.

You set one of the shots as your wallpaper and another as your profile for Sukuna on your phone.

"Anyways," you started, after ceasing your attacks, "wanna get lunch some time? Heard there's a new place that just opened up."

Sukuna nodded, without a beat of hesitation.

Because if this was how he died, — you as the cause, with your kisses littered all over him — he wouldn't pull away from your grasps for even a second.

[lillaluna]

you like to hold hands, doesn't he?

Pairing: Neuvillette, Itto, Diluc, Childe, Dottore, Zhongli, Wriothesley x f!Reader

DOTTORE

Oh, you just had to see his face when you took his hand in public for the first time, without asking or permission! At that moment, the man immediately pulled his palm out of your light grip, which you were not offended at all, because you knew who you were in a relationship with and it would not be easy with him.

Then you decided to act differently, starting with light touches to Dottore's gloved fingers when you were walking among people. After that, you casually covered his hand with yours when you were sitting in a cafe. And your main triumph was the moment when Dottore himself intertwined your fingers, feeling a pang of jealousy.

It's not like Dottore loved this gesture with all his dark heart right now, but he's willing to do it for you occasionally.

DILUC

Does Diluc need to be persuaded to take your hand? Of course not! It's safe to say that he was the first one to make this gesture in your relationship, and he loves it.

He holds your hand everywhere — at home, just to feel your warmth, on the street, to know that you are close and safe, when you go to bed, you must have tactile contact.

Your interlaced fingers cause Diluс to have a rush of tenderness and a smile on his sometimes sullen face.

WRIOTHESLEY

For the first time, Wriothesley realized that he wanted to touch you as often as possible when you bandaged his knocked-down knuckles for the umpteenth time, after a fight in the ring. You have always acted very gently, soft and delicately, despite the duke's assurances that his hands have long been roughened and you do not need to stand on ceremony with him. To which you always snorted funny and continued to treat his wounds.

For a long time, Wriothesley did not dare to take your hand, precisely because he believed that his hands were too rude, rough and calloused, and he could harm your soft female fingers. Therefore, you had to become the initiator of the fact that your fingers would finally intertwine, that evening when you were sitting next to each other at the table, at one of the receptions in the palace of Mermonia.

ITTO

For all his feigned self-confidence, It was very shy to touch you, and the thought of taking your hand in public drove him to hysteria inside his head. Therefore, Itto came up with, as it seemed to him, an insidious and cunning plan, suggesting that you compare the sizes of your palms.

If the first time it seemed like a nice gesture to you, even the second time you laughed shyly, then after the thirteenth comparison, you began to suspect something was wrong.

On another offer to compare your palms, you refused Itto, and rejoiced for the first few minutes from his confused face, but after a few minutes you felt sorry for the confused guy. That's why you gently said that he doesn't need clever plans for him to take your hand, and you'll be glad of it at any moment.

ZHONGLI

After so many years of loneliness, this man will not miss any opportunity to touch you. He will proudly hold your hand, interlacing your fingers at the moment when you want it. At home, in a restaurant, walking down the street, visiting.

Zhongli has a habit, as soon as your fingers are intertwined, he immediately brings your clasped palms to his lips and kisses your fingers. It surprised you the first time, but now it has become something integral, and Zhongli has never forgotten to make this cute gesture.

CHILDE

What? Just hold hands? Pf, it's too easy for Ajax. Maybe hugs are everywhere possible and the bounds of decency allow it?

Childe does not need to ask for a small gesture there, he himself will take your hand and do it defiantly, literally poking your interlaced fingers in everyone's face, which in his opinion declares that you are only his.

NEUVILLETTE

Judge Fontaine learns everything new and modern, but he considers the gesture when two people hold hands intimate and prefers to do it with you alone. At first, you were offended, although you tried to hide it behind a knowing smile, but when you saw how tremulously and tenderly Neuvillette kissed your fingers when they were intertwined with his, you decided that such intimacy was not a bad thing.

In turn, Neuvillette tries as often as possible to give you fleeting touches in public, and if possible, he is happy to offer that you take his arm.

[bella-goths-wife]

How the yandere Vs treat pet reader like an adult and child

Val, vox and velvette x platonic reader

Just a quick reminder that Vs pet died at the age of 18 and is technically an adult and has had adult experiences before she died but compared to everyone else in age shes much younger and they see her as a kid :)

Warnings: SA mentions, Vs sexualising pet reader, drugging, reader is uncomfortable, forced affection

How they treat you like a child:

You may have been legally an adult when you died, but that does not stop the Vs from infantilising you at any opportunity

You will have extremely strict rules put in place once they become obsessed with you, even if they regularly defy the rules themselves

You have a curfew that you must abide by and be back on the tower for, unless of course one of the Vs sent you to do something

You are rarely allowed to leave the tower alone, if you are given permission it’s most likely because one of the Vs need something doing or you’ve asked them when they are in a good mood

Your diet is also highly controlled by them, they choose how much you eat and what you are banned from eating

You have a strict dating ban, if they see you as much as smile at a demon with slight adoration your eyes then they will be killed or fired

This includes casual hookups too, your barely allowed any contact with other demons so you could imagine their anger if they found out you were having sex with someone

Your clothing is always chosen the night before by velvette and has to be pre approved by vox to make sure it isn’t too revealing

Your very rarely allowed time to yourself and your always somehow monitored by the Vs so friendships are off the table

You are not allowed to drink or do drugs by your own choice, they say your too young for it

They ignore the fact that you were a rave girl when you were alive and that you regularly drank and did many different drugs

Vox is the one who mostly upholds your rules, since he is the one who sees you in more of a surrogate daughter way compared to how velvette sees you as a pet and Valentino sees you as a toy/therapist

But the others can be just as infantilising

Velvette constantly treats you like you know nothing because of your age and Valentino pretends to ‘shield’ you away from any friendships with his workers because your too ‘innocent’ for them

If any of them caught you pursuing something outside of them then there would be very severe consequences

Especially if it were something that allowed you to act like an independent adult

How they treat you like an adult:

Even if you have a strict curfew set by vox, velvette and Valentino will command you to defy that curfew to accompany them to events or nights out

They mostly just bring you for entertainment purposes for themselves but sometimes they just want to not have to fetch their own drinks for the night

This drives vox crazy but the other two don’t really care and will continue to drag you away at a moments notice

You may not be allowed to leave the tower alone at all, but you can go pretty much anywhere as long as one of the Vs are with you

They’ve dragged you to bars, deals, strip clubs, anywhere you can think of

They excuse this by saying that your needed at all times so if they drag you to places that they previously forbade you from entering, it’s okay because they’re with you

Even though they have all placed a ban on you dating or having sex, Valentino has offered to get a lover for the night from one of his workers

You’ve always refused but that doesn’t stop him from offering when he’s in a good mood

He even once offered to let star in one of his films and claimed that you’d be a real hit but you declined and told vox immediately, Valentino got a very harsh scolding and beating for that one

They also make you edit the sounds for Valentino’s movies with your abilities but claimed that your much to young to be allowed to have sexual relationships

They don’t even recognise their own hypocrisy sometimes

Even if your wardrobe is pre approved by vox, sometimes for her own fun velvette will make you wear something revealing just so she can make vox angry

You could be totally uncomfortable but you’d still have to about your day with her in an outfit that showed off your chest and curves

Vox always puts his jacket on you when he sees you and demands that you go change, he also threatens anyone he sees checking you out or making sexual comments towards you

You aren’t allowed to drink or do any drugs, but they are all guilty of drugging you

Valentino always offers you mushrooms, molly or edibles if he’s having one because he finds your reactions funny whenever your desperate enough to accept

You’ve got quite a high tolerance because of how you participated when you were alive, so unfortunately you remember most of what happens to you during these times

When velvette gets bored or just has a very hectic day that she doesn’t think you can handle efficiently, she has drugged you with coke in various ways

She’d receive scoldings from vox but she’d quickly bring up that he’s guilty of similar crimes

Sometimes when vox finds himself being soft and wanting to have some type of father daughter affection with you, he’ll give you an edible without your knowledge to make you more pliable to his affection

All of them have slipped sleeping pills into your drink before to make you stop being rebellious and just go to sleep

You don’t understand how they can treat you like you are an innocent kid at one moment and then acknowledge your age but use it as a weapon against you

The Vs crave the control that these rules bring, they want to know that they have the final say on every aspect of your existence

No matter how they view their obsessions over you, you are theirs to treat or mistreat how they choose

They don’t care about your feelings, they care about what you can give them

Your a possession to them, something to make them laugh or something to hold after a lonely day

You are not in control, and that’s what they like most about this arrangement

Sometimes you wonder which would be better

For them to never acknowledge that your an adult and treat you like a child, or for them to acknowledge your age and have the option to sexualise your or exploit you at any given moment

But all you can do is sit and bark on command, like the mutt they’ve trained you to be

Your body isn’t your own, your soul isn’t your own, your appearance isn’t your own and your mind isn’t your own

And that’s what terrifies you most and what they crave most of all.

Tag list so far :)

@repostingmyfavs @buttercupfangirl

[blitzyn]

shut up

childe x m!reader

request: none

a/n -> im sick and tired of winter WHERE IS SUMMER. help i wrote some of this in public so i had to stop myself from acting out some of the motions just to figure out how to write it lmao. guys i kinda made him a little mean i just got a little carried away oopsies. anyways one more non req and ill work on reqs i hope

wc -> 3.8k

cw -> very dubcon, hate sex, a lil bit of blood, anal sex, spit as lube, not a lot of prep, degradation, manhandling, throat fucking, asphyxiation, reader is a masochist, mean dom childe, spitting (in ur mouth like once), chokehold, prone bone position for like 2 seconds lmao, brief descriptions of fighting, reader offs someone cuz he felt like it kinda, it starts sorta abrupt tbh lol, not beta read

Childe fucking hated you. This was old news—absolutely anyone who had the barest idea who he was knew that. Everyone within a twenty meter radius could hear him arguing about something, and it never seemed to be about the same thing more than once. There always seemed to be something the two of you nitpicked about each other, throwing it out into the open which, more often than not, led to a fight with no clear winner.

There wasn’t anything anyone could do about it since the two of you were Harbingers. You were ranked tenth after Signora’s death and The Balladeer’s desertion, just behind Childe who was in ninth. But that didn’t stop you from riling him up relentlessly, even finding some type of enjoyment from his anger because you knew it wasn’t particularly common to see. Really, there wasn’t much of a power difference between the two of you other than the fact that you were less experienced.

As such, you were often assigned to missions together—if assigned meant that you simply joined him when you didn’t have anything important to do, much to his obvious displeasure.

This time, you followed him towards a hideout hidden between large rocks. It was simple, and you preferred that it wasn’t so easily accessible, but you supposed that hiding it in plain sight was acceptable for now.

“I don’t like how easy it is to find this place,” you commented, taking in your surroundings as if you were impressed by how large the area was compared to the small cave entrance. “It’s so obvious.”

Childe only offered you a grunt in acknowledgement, making his way past a few scattered materials on the floor. This wasn’t a facility that the Fatui used as much as before, but some machines were still operational and functioning.

“Ignoring people when they’re talking to you is rude, Tartaglia,” you chided, but you couldn’t care less that he wasn’t responding. “Besides, it’s not like you disagree with me. You wouldn’t want a poor, helpless child accidentally stumbling across this place while they’re playing a game.”

He glanced at you from the corner of his eye, and you could see him grit his teeth when he noticed the smug expression on your face. “Nobody’s gonna find the entrance. It’s been around for years and there hasn’t been a trespasser.”

“Really?” You hummed, nodding slowly to yourself. “If you say so.”

He eyed you warily, instantly skeptical of how quick you were to accept his statement. But that wasn’t important right now—he needed to retrieve some documents and collect money from a few debtors.

“Just… Just stay here. Don’t touch anything,” he instructed, unnerved by how you obediently sat on a rickety chair and watched him expectantly.

“Yessir,” you replied with a playful tone in your voice, crossing your arms over your chest comfortably.

He silently stared at you for a few moments. “What are you planning?” He blurted out, annoyed with the eyebrow you raised in question. “You don’t like listening to me.”

You rolled your eyes at his accusation. “I don’t really favor getting chewed out by whoever needs those papers, so hurry up and get what you need. I’d rather talk to the debtors, anyways.”

He didn’t move from his spot for a few more moments before hesitantly making his way toward an isolated room, seemingly accepting your response. You chuckled through your nose at his reluctance as you swirled your finger around, creating a small rabbit made out of Cryo. It was quiet and unassuming as it silently hopped around before you sent it out of the room, searching for any valuable items worth keeping as you waited.

You leaned back in boredom, shutting your eyes to focus on keeping the rabbit's form. You could feel a faint hint of interest radiating through you from your creation, cringing slightly at the smell of metal before you relaxed again. The rabbit was mid-search when an arrow whizzed past it, nicking its back. Quickly, it fled, leaving a trail of Cryo. The hunter cursed loudly and chased after it, but it wasn't long before it made it to its destination.

Curious, you released your focus on the rabbit as you stood up to pick up whatever it found. You looked up when the hunter suddenly walked through the cave entrance, slightly surprised to know that they hadn't stopped trying to go after your rabbit. The two of you stared at each other before you spoke up in mild disinterest.

"Can I help you?" You questioned, inspecting your find once again. It was shiny and had intricate designs on it, but ultimately worthless.

"Uh... Uh, yes! Yes, you can," they said after a moment, scoping the area in search of their nonexistent rabbit. "Have you seen a white rabbit run through here? Small, quick, and leaving some sort of trail behind it," they described eagerly, taking a few steps forward.

"I'm afraid you can't come in here," you said, raising a hand to stop them in their tracks. You analyzed them for a moment, taking in their appearance. They couldn't have been older than fifteen, with shaggy brown hair and tanned skin.

"Then why are you in here?" They countered stubbornly, crossing their arms. It seemed they forgot all about their hunt in favor of digging into your business.

"That's none of your concern," you replied, ignoring their questioning gaze above your shoulder. "If you don't leave now, I'll have to resort to force."

You bristled a little when you saw them roll their eyes. Too stubborn for their own good, apparently. "Yeah? Well, I'm the chief's kid. What's a weird-looking guy like you gonna do to me?"

You frowned, visibly offended. You stared at them for a moment before raising your dominant hand again, this time letting an icicle form on the tip of your middle finger before flicking it directly at them. In the blink of an eye, they went down with a loud thud. "Kill you," you replied to the body.

You walked up to them and lifted their head by their hair, examining the wound on their forehead with a hum. Blood leaked in copious amounts down their face, and you couldn't stop the grimace when some landed on your foot.

"Oh, shit," you hissed under your breath when you caught a better look at them. You wondered why they seemed so vaguely familiar to you when the realization suddenly hit you-the chief was one of the debtors. You pursed your lips before standing up with a shrug, placing a hand on your chin to ponder different ways to dispose of the body without tarnishing the Fatui's name even further. "I suppose I could just toss them in a lake? Or lure in a wild animal to eat them? Burning's too obvious..."

"What the fuck did you just do?" You heard Childe curse from behind you. You turned around to face him, eyebrow twitching in interest when you noticed his normally void eyes alight with fury. Honestly, though, you didn't quite understand why he seemed so upset. Maybe it was because of how transactions with the debtor may not go as smoothly as he wanted, or the fact that the person you killed was still technically a child.

"Someone found the entrance," you shrugged, unbothered by his reaction. "We don't want anyone finding important information about the Fatui, right? So I killed them. I told you it was easy to spot." You rolled your eyes like it was the most obvious thing ever, which only served to anger him. You tried to make your way past him deeper into the facility in search of something interesting to take when a sudden blur slammed your body into a wall. You let out a pained grunt, instinctively wrapping your fingers around the wrist where he pinned you down by your throat.

You knew he was ruthless when he needed to be, but you weren't given a chance to see it with your own eyes up until now. He was far from gentle, holding your delicate neck with such ferocity it made your skin tingle. It was exhilarating.

"Like hell they just conveniently found the entrance," he spat, his voice low as he glared deep into your watering eyes. "You deliberately lured them in here, didn't you? And for what? Because you were bored?" He refused to slacken the hold around your throat, internally finding that he preferred how you looked when you couldn't breathe.

"You—cough—You're much the s-same, Tartaglia," you strained out, trying to furiously blink away your tears. "Don't pretend you don't crave vi-violence, too."

You could see him grit his teeth just before he tossed you to the floor, watching you cough and regain your breath with disdain in his eyes. "No. Don't compare me to a fucking psychopath like you. I don't kill kids just because I feel like it!"

"To-may-to, to-mah-to," you groaned, rubbing your sore skin. You could still feel his hand around your throat, his grip burned into your flesh in a way that sent a familiar heat through your groin. He took a second to examine your body before zeroing in on the growing bulge between your legs, disbelief written on his expression.

"There's no damn way," he muttered to himself as if trying to convince himself you weren't aroused by him strangling you. With a growl, he stepped forward and harshly pressed a foot on your crotch, merciless with the amount of pressure he used. He watched in disgust as your hips jerked in response, frowning deeply at the pained moan you let out. "You're seriously turned on?"

"If it wasn't obvious—" You were unceremoniously cut off by a swift kick to your jaw, accidentally biting down on your tongue. You tasted the metallic tang of your own blood that originated from your mouth and your nose, wiping it away quickly. Your cock only throbbed with an increased fervor in your pants that strained for release against the fabric.

"Shut the fuck up," he snarled, staring down at you for a few moments, deciding what to do with you now that he had this newfound information in his hands.

"What's gotten you so upset?" You teased him, obviously not taking your situation seriously. You felt a pleasurable chill run down your spine at the fierce look he gave you, sitting up a bit in anticipation when you saw his hand stray down toward his pants, roughly undoing them.

"You just can't shut your mouth, can you?" He hissed, leaning forward a bit to grab a handful of your hair. He yanked you closer, forcing you onto your knees as he pressed the tip of his flaccid cock against your waiting tongue. "Fine, then. I'll shut it for you."

You hummed at the salty taste of his skin, raising your hands up to hold onto the swell of his muscular thighs. He groaned quietly when you dragged your tongue along a prominent vein on the underside of the shaft, looking up at him through your lashes. You let out a garbled moan when he forced you all the way down to the base, seemingly satisfied with the way you gagged a little.

Your nose was buried within his pubic hair as your throat tightened and spasmed, feeling yourself beginning to drool as the thick strands of saliva seeped out of the corners of your lips. You could hardly breathe, but you loved it. You loved the way he tugged on your scalp, starting to move his hips back and forth. You tried to contribute as much as you could, but the way you could feel his cock hardening sent a pleasant ache through your jaw.

"Fucking hell... You're not fit to be a Harbinger," he spat, holding you still as he reached down to swipe a bit of the blood from your nose to messily wipe it on your cheek. You couldn't see what he was doing, but the patterned swipes made it clear what he was writing.

S, L, U, T.

The word sent a jolt of electricity down your spine. You could feel your cock twitch in your pants, leaking a profuse amount of precum that served to stain the fabric. You let out a moan and slipped a hand underneath your clothes, jerking yourself off shamelessly.

He let out a breathy scoff at the sight, but he couldn't help the way his dick throbbed when your throat squeezed around him. "You're too good at this," he groaned, gradually moving his hips faster until he was fucking your face. "You don't belong in the Fatui. You're better off at a goddamn whorehouse."

He relished in the sound of your chokes and gags, finding that he preferred this much more than your voice. He let out a heavy sigh and shut his eyes, tilting his head back in ecstasy as he lost himself in the sensations. He was unaware of how you shifted your hand lower, using your precum as a subpar replacement for lube to push two of your fingers in your hole. You weren't in any particular rush as you leisurely pumped them in and out of you, adding in the wet sounds to your strained moans and ragged breaths. You were brought back to your senses when you heard him bark out a mocking laugh, squinting up at him through the tears that accumulated along your lashes.

"You're fucking pathetic," he muttered lowly, almost to himself, but you knew it was directed at you. "Is this—shit—all it took? You just needed a dick shoved down your throat, huh? Should've known you were such a whore," he demeaned, and you could only whine in response. Suddenly, he leaned a bit forward to press the sole of his shoe onto your aching cock, watching intently at the way you choked in surprise. "Maybe the rest of us should get a turn with you? Turn you into our little fucktoy? Our good-for-nothing cumdump?"

A grin made its way onto his pale face, turned on with the amount of control he had over you. His left hand slid lower, maintaining a firm grip on the junction between the back of your head and neck as his other one moved up to pinch your nostrils shut. He thrust harder, faster, shuffling closer when you tried to tilt your head away. He ignored your muffled protests and focused solely on getting himself off, letting out satisfied groans that you weren't fully there to appreciate.

It wasn't until you could hear a high-pitched ringing did he finally cum, shooting his load down your throat without a care for whether or not you could properly swallow it. He held himself there for a moment longer before he pulled himself away with a harsh shove to your body. You coughed and panted hard, taking a moment to regain your composure before looking back up at him, eager for more.

"Still not satisfied?" He questioned rhetorically. You both knew you weren't done yet, not when you found out how he could get when you pushed his buttons just the right way. "Stupid question, huh?" He huffed a laugh through his nose before roughly kicking you onto your stomach, dropping to his knees not a moment later. He haphazardly tugged your pants and underwear down in one go, ignoring the pained hiss you made when you felt yourself sandwiching your drooling cock between your abdomen and the floor. He spread your ass apart to spit on your asshole, shoving a finger inside you for good measure before jerking himself off using some of his saliva.

"Tartaglia, please—hurry," you whined, looking over your shoulder to meet his gaze. It was satisfying to see you in such a pitiful state, but the sound of your voice, although hoarse and raw, annoyed him.

"Be quiet or I'll leave you here like this," he snapped, giving your asscheek a quick slap before positioning himself over your hole. He rubbed the tip of it against your skin for a moment before pushing himself inside, groaning loudly at the feeling of you clamping down on him so perfectly.

It fucking hurt; after all, you only used two meager fingers to prepare yourself, and even then, you hadn't done much. It burned like he was tearing you apart but in the best damn way. The pain of being stretched out so mercilessly only mixed in with the insatiable fire in your groin, shooting jolts of electricity up your spine so intense you nearly came on the spot.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck! Tartaglia, please, you're so—!" You cut yourself off with a moan when he suddenly slammed himself down all the way, ramming the head of his cock against your sensitive prostate.

"I said shut up!" He demanded, pressing his hips down to grind against you. He wasn't as deep as he could go in this position, but he still managed to fill you up just right. You groaned when he leaned down, pinning you to the ground with his body weight as an arm snaked around the front of your throat, pressing it against you firm enough to restrict some of your airflow.

Instinctively, you raised a hand to grab at his forearm, digging your nails into the scarred skin in a futile attempt to get him to ease up. You could hear every sound that left his lips, every labored breath that brushed the shell of your ear. It didn't take him long to start moving, pulling out until only the tip remained before slamming back into you mercilessly. You could feel every inch and vein with each drag of his cock, your body jolting alongside his harsh thrusts, grinding your dick up and down on the ground.

"God... you're so damn tight," he muttered, picking up the pace. A low moan escaped his throat when he pressed against your prostate just right, ignoring your fleeting struggle.

It was hard to breathe. You could feel him everywhere around you all at once, and it didn't help that he fucked you hard enough to knock the breath out of your lungs. Your moans and whines were strained and hoarse, clawing at his arm, but you knew you didn't really want him off. Your body ached at his rough handling as wet slaps echoed through the abandoned facility, briefly wondering if anyone outside could hear, but you could hardly maintain your train of thought long enough for it to become a concern. He fucked you fast and rough, hips slamming against your ass hard enough to sting, but he didn't find it in himself to care.

"Tar-Tartaglia! Slow...—!" You tried to plead, beginning to find everything overwhelming when you cut yourself off with a squeal. He quickly shifted himself, leaning back to hold your throat with his hands as he pulled, forcing your back to arch uncomfortably.

"No," he replied, tilting his upper half over you just enough to spit in your gaping mouth. He felt you tighten in response as he relaxed his hold the slightest bit, feeling you swallow his saliva eagerly. "You wanted this. So you're gonna fucking take it."

The heat in your belly intensified to an unbearable degree, and with the way he practically filled up every crevice of your hole, you weren't sure you were going to last much longer. With one hand on your throat, he moved his other one down to spread one of your asscheeks to intently watch his cock move in and out of you. He could feel every twitch and shudder you made, and it satisfied him to know just how easy you were to break down despite your initial resistance.

"Fuck... I can feel you," he groaned, yanking your head back a bit to get you to look at him. "You're about to cum, huh?"

It was hard to find the right words to reply when he fucked every thought out of your head, but the panic in your eyes made it clear that you didn't want him to stop so suddenly. And although he wanted to see you beg like the whore you were, he needed to finish this quickly. He still had a job to do, after all.

"You're lucky I still need to collect some money," he growled, glaring at you with familiar disdain. "Otherwise I would've left you like this for hours."

With renewed vigor, he removed his hand from your throat to roughly push your face down by the back of your head, tugging your hips up to bury himself deeper inside your ass. You cried out in ecstasy as your eyes rolled back, making an attempt to withhold your orgasm when he wrapped his fingers around your throbbing cock, jerking you off in time with his punishing thrusts, but to no avail. Barely a moment later, you came with a loud moan, cumming so hard it left you lightheaded and dizzy.

He chased after his own release, giving you a few more rough thrusts before he stilled, burying himself as deep as he could go inside you. You could feel his thick cock throbbing as he filled you up with his cum, shuddering at the warmth before you slumped back down to the ground. He remained still for a moment longer, catching his breath while he watched you tremble. With a sigh, he pulled out, grimacing a little at the sight of his dick slick with fluids, but he tucked it back in his pants regardless.

"Get up. We have to hide the body and get to the chief before anyone finds out you killed his kid," he said impatiently, walking towards the hunter to inspect it.

"Just... Just bury them, or something," you suggested, taking a moment to calm down before pulling your pants up. Finding a reflective surface, you summoned a bit of your Cryo and melted it with your body heat to wipe away the crusted blood on your face.

"Eugh... I can feel your cum," you found the energy to complain, turning to face Childe with annoyance written on your face. The audacity.

"Shut up and let's go. We're already behind schedule after your bullshit." He scowled, picking up the body, already having decided what to do with it. At least it wasn't your problem anymore.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say," you said, quickly fixing your appearance. If it weren't for the slight limp in your gait, nobody would be able to tell he just fucked you within an inch of your life. Perks of being a Harbinger, you suppose.

cross-posted on ao3