#disaster will solace
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mediumgayitalian · 9 months ago
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Will would like to say, at risk of perjuring himself, that he did not intend to fall asleep.
Like, he wanted to.
And he did.
But it was not his original intent.
His original intent was to stabilize his patients (success), climb out the back window of the infirmary (success), stick the landing (failure is good for growth), meet Nico behind the Big House (success), and shadow travel to his cabin without throwing up (fifty percent is a pass). The secondary intent was to sprawl on his boyfriend’s lap, taking up as much space as possible in his massive, against-camp-regulations bed (how it is possible to be Dionysus’ nepo baby without actually being a child of Dionysus, Will shall never know), turn off his brain, and watch him play video games for a while.
The issue is that Nico is so comfortable.
Yeah, he’s bony. And yeah, sometimes he gets really into the game and forgets that Will is there, elbowing him in the face as he cusses at the screen in what sounds like ancient Latin. And yeah, the sound of a CoD lobby is the opposite of a sleep-conductive environment. However.
However.
While he may spend hours of his week standing on tables, lecturing on healthy eating habits and regular circadian rhythms via sonnet, and enforcing said habits via taser (rip Leo Valdez, you would’ve loved watching Will taser people for stress relief, come back alive soon), Will is what his friends and family call a ‘big fat hypocrite’.
He wouldn’t know healthy habits if they painted themselves bright neon blue (the easiest colour for him to see), stood ten feet tall, dressed in Malvolio’s outfit from Twelfth Night, and roundhouse kicked him in the teeth his mother spent thousands of dollars on (braces suck). He has not slept through the night even once his whole life. Yesterday, his two meals were 1) twizzlers and 2) audacity. He once measured how much liquid he had in his system on any given time and then drank approximately two point seven litres of RedBull to become, by volume, one half percent caffeine. (His heart did indeed stop. But it started back up again when Jason shocked him, so it was fine. Plus, he wrote it all down, so in reality it was science.)
Also, his dumbfuck peers keep getting themselves maimed, and he was informed unfortunately by Chiron that he cannot strike and leave them to suffer. (Accusing him of violating his First Amendment Right To Petition got him nothing but stable duty.) As of ten minutes before Nico picked him up, he was on his thirty-ninth consecutive hour of being awake. Probably. (He’s reasonably certain that climbing a tree on Friday morning and belting himself to the trunk, Katniss Everdeen style, for a quick catnap was not a fever dream, but one can never be too certain.)
Regardless. Point is, Will had cute boys to cuddle and Thoughts to Think. He had no intention of falling asleep.
And, yet.
He wakes up warm — the perfect kind of warm, wherein you feel akin to a soupified caterpillar in a chrysalis — or like a croissant lovingly shaped by the hands of an elderly chef in Paris and baked with care in a regulated oven — or like a wonderfully blubbery elephant seal baking on a slick rock — or like a space rock hurtling through the —
“Morning, Sunshine,” murmurs a very familiar voice. Following the very gentle murmur is a very gentle smooch on the forehead. Will, still mostly asleep, thinks he would sign off his soul without a second thought to ensure it happens again. “Or evening, rather.”
“Has anyone ever offered you their soul?” Will asks, fuzzy and disoriented. He tries and fails to blink the grogginess away, but the world around him stays dark, and the hand in his hair remains where it is, and he is so, so sleepy.
“Not yet,” Nico says. Will can hear the amused smile in his voice. “Why?”
Will yawns. “No reason. Timizzit?”
“Late, tesoro. Past curfew.”
Will groans, knocking his head gently back into Nico’s hold.
Of course his dumb ass slept through the evening. Of course he now has to drag himself awake and walk, in the blistering, nose-numbing frost (it’s sixty degrees, Solace) across camp, dodging feral harpy attacks (Apollo kids have harpy immunity, William), and trudging into his sad, small, lonely bed (gods above you are your father’s son) where he will of course be fully awake by the time he gets there. God really does give his hardest battles to his strongest soldiers. (You’re an atheist, William Andrew.)
“Why me,” he laments, refusing to move from his boyfriend’s lap. Perhaps he will simply wither here, warm, satisfied, and more importantly away from little siblings who will not stop squabbling even when their long-suffering older brother looks longingly and pointedly at a bottle of cyanide.
Nico snorts. “Because the gods are punishing you for your crimes.”
“I have committed no crimes! This is unjust! Partisan! I am Hester Prynne and she is me —”
“Your mother is going to hell for teaching you literacy.”
“Defamation and libel!”
“Shut up, Will, gods —”
But he softens the blow of his words by leaning down, hands on either side of Will’s face, and kissing him like he’s trying to breathe him back to life. Or keep him quiet, honestly, but he smells like woodsmoke and citrus and old leather so Will doesn’t really mind. Even if he did, the chapped skin of Nico’s lips serves as a very good distraction, as does the brush of his thumb over Will’s cheekbone and the cool press of his ring against Will’s heated skin.
“Stay over,” he whispers, shifting his lips to Will’s chin, his jaw, his neck. He scratches his teeth lightly against Will’s adam’s apple and his hemoglobin briefly forget how important their job is. “You don’t have a shift tomorrow and everyone at camp owes you, like, twelve favours each.”
“That’s very convincing,” Will mumbles, unsure if he’s referring to Nico’s sound logic or the breath he blows on the shell of Will’s ear, which makes his arrector pili muscles go crazy. (He could make a more convincing case for the logic if all the blood had not abandoned his brain. Alas.)
“I’m a very convincing person.”
He slides a hand under Will’s shirt and his already very weak resolve pulls out a suitcase, packs its things, and abandons its family to pursue a career in competitive shoemaking. Or something. Nico’s hands are very very cold and it feels really really good for some reason and Will is just one man, okay. He may have been named after willpower but that does not mean he possesses any. And Nico is a convincing person. He out-stubborned Death.
“Okay,” he gasps out, arching into the nail Nico scratches over the intensely sensitive skin of his hip, “I’m staying, I’m staying, please take all your wiles and ship them out into the sea in a wine crate ala Danaë and her newborn.”
“…You are such a deeply strange person.”
“And yet you love me so.”
Nico presses his smile to Will’s forehead. “Indeed, I do.”
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iamrizaka · 5 months ago
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Lee: There are three chairs and five kids. What do you do?
Will: Get two more chairs.
Ethan: Cut each chair in half to make six.
Alabaster: Make them FIGHT for their seats!
Luke: Make them sit on the floor.
Nico: Get rid of two kids.
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sodamnbored · 2 days ago
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Nico: Will, you’ve gotta do something!
Will, shining a light into Jason’s eyes: What happened?
Nico: There was an accident. He’s really messed up.
Jason: Honestly, I feel fine -
Nico: Do you think the damage is permanent?
Will, confused: He seems okay to me?
Nico, shaking his head: No, he’s all confused. Watch.
Nico: Jason, what day is it?
Jason: Tuesday.
Nico, distressed to Will: See?
Will: But…Today is Tuesday.
Nico: But he thinks it’s last Tuesday.
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mvndrvke · 11 months ago
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@campxhalfblood ( continued )
Nico huffs softly, gaze dropping to try and give an air of not caring as much as he does. It doesn't work in the slightest; his gaze moves back up to Will's face, hopeful and stupid and wanting.
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"I...." Nico looks down at their hands, faltering slightly before he shakes his head. "I, uhm. Y'know. Care about.... if...." Nico grimaces. "I don't want you to die, obviously, I just--" He winces again, mumbling hastily, "y'know like maybe if-- y'know, if--" before he just rests his temple against Will's shoulder. "You get what I mean."
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zeetbl33p · 10 months ago
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...damnit. Why did I end up getting attached to Citrus? Lhclhfo
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clavicuss-vile · 2 years ago
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(Anders ranting about how stupid it is to do blood magic and put your life at risk in the middle of battle and that amell needs to STOP)
Lucas amell: you're hot when you look like you want to kill me
Solace hawke: oh so it's a genetic thing
Carver: what
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nxuvillette · 18 days ago
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FORBIDDEN LUST — CAPITANO
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synopsis : you were assigned to guard the fatui’s best. you knew the bounds of your relationship was strictly professional, but when your conversation one night becomes personal, those lines begin to blur.
❥- pairings : the captain (capitano) x fem!reader
❥- a/n : this post is for my criminal event ! i decided to do the captain, because well, he fits the bill in some aspect. i hope you guys enjoy and feedback + reblogs are appreciated :).
content warnings : nsfw [18+], fem!reader, minors + ageless + blank blogs dni, fatui!reader, spoilers to the 5.0 archon quest, power dynamic, mentions of crime, porn w plot, age gap, finger sucking, use of pet names (baby , darling , my love), some fluff, possessive!capitano, fingering, dirty talk, creampie, biting, outside sex, rough sex, choking, nipple sucking, corruption kink, dacryphilia.
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The moon’s bright rays cast themselves over the meadows and mountains over the nation of Natlan. The beautiful plethora of colors that were painted on the various rock walls were shown brightly due to this light. It was a very calm evening in the nation of war. The air was warm with a bit of humidity clinging along with it, but despite the weather, you still had to keep your main focus alive and that was the duty of protecting the fatui’s number one. 
Your introduction to the powerful organization wasn’t exactly out of the ordinary. You found yourself seeking out solace within because of your disdain for the heavenly principles that cursed Teyvat. Like many of the fellow members, you believed that the cryo archon had the right approach when it came to dealing with them, so you joined her in the fight to gain every gnosis that belonged to the six other archons. Along with your passion, your abilities were another piece of the puzzle that led you into obtaining the position you had today, and that was becoming somewhat of a guard to one of the harbingers. 
The Captain.
Not many members were lucky enough to interact with the harbingers themselves. A lot of them were never seen outside of Snezchnaya or in the public eye at all. However, when the Captain was made aware of the crisis that was occurring in a nation he protected all those years ago, he wasted no time making his way there to understand the pyro archon’s approach to the impending disaster that threatened Natlan. Since you were tasked with being by him, you were immediately told to tag along with him. You hadn’t ever gone to Natlan before, but you wished you had a lot sooner. The land of pyro was full of so much color and life. There was a happiness that bubbled in your stomach when your eyes scanned over the beautiful horizons that were buzzing with different animals or people who were happily playing with their saurian pals. You knew being a part of the fatui meant being a cold hearted individual who, on the outside, had to assert their dominance over others, but there was still a side of you that enjoyed the good things about Teyvat. 
While you did bask in the beauty of Natlan, you knew you still had a job to do. 
Being around the Captain for as long as you had, you had to learn to become accustomed to his reserved nature. He often didn’t speak to you for long periods of time, and he always kept any personal details to himself. You knew that was understandable, especially given his ranking in the fatui. He was one of the most feared men in all of Teyvat. Some of the other fatui members would shake in their shorts at the mere thought of his name being uttered. You were intimidated by him at times. He was strong. There was a reason he was number one, but you still had many questions about him as a person. 
The fire before you crackled every few seconds. There were a few embers that snapped into the atmosphere and disappeared as quickly as they developed. You were stationed out in a campsite that wasn’t too far from the stadium that you were planning to invade the next morning with the Captain. The man sat across from you. He was as quiet as he typically was. If you had to be honest, you disliked awkward silence more than anything. You were a talkative person with the right people, but with him? You were afraid to make too much noise with your feet. He had kicked some serious ass in front of you before, and you did not want to become a human popsicle because of him. You simply followed his orders, no questions asked. He could be mysterious at times. He was a man who was always somehow several steps ahead of everybody else and you learned over the months you’ve worked alongside him that he was very clever. You often yearned to know more about him. All you had was baseless rumors made up by random people.
Tiredness began to creep onto your body a lot quicker than you had anticipated. You forgot that you had spent several days travelling through different areas to get to Natlan. This was one of the first times you had gotten the chance to sleep in a few days. You’re trained to not get lazy or tired, but this was the one time you were about to give in to those ideals. 
“Getting exhausted already, hm?”
Your hazy thoughts were interrupted when the Captain’s voice rang in your ears. It always managed to catch you off guard because of how deep it was. There was also so much silence around you both, so it was unexpected to hear him speak so suddenly. “Heh..” you laughed, softly. “You caught me, Captain, my apologies.”
The man before you shook his head, dismissing your apology. “No need, we’ve been travelling for days. I can’t expect you to be wide awake while we’re in front of a fire..” he said. “If you need to rest, don’t worry. I can keep an eye on our camp, and I doubt anyone passing by will attempt to start a fight this late.”
There was a sudden spike in your heart rate at his words. You found it quite surprising that the Captain himself was showing leniency towards you. You were used to him being quite strict at times with the other fatui members who traveled alongside him with you, so this sudden shift made you wonder why he was being so.. Nice? It seemed out of character, and curiosity began to reign in your mind. Could this be a test? The harbingers were a group of individuals who were unpredictable in all forms. He could easily be testing you, so if you did fall asleep, he could scold you for letting your guard down and making him have to protect you. It was your job to save his life in any scenario, after all.
Your eyes flickered from the man to the fire that was still burning. Although you had been around him several times, his presence alone did make you nervous. “No, it’s alright. I have to make sure you don’t get hurt.. Especially with the abyss lurking around here. I can stay up!” you smiled, nervously.
For a moment, the Captain didn’t speak, making that anxious feeling return all over again. Was he going to get angry? Were you supposed to go to sleep? It could’ve been an order hidden in his words. Silence was the most deafening thing to exist. 
“I know what you’re thinking, (Y/N), you don’t have to push yourself for my odds.” he broke that silence that was killing you. “As much as I appreciate it, your wellbeing is important. You can’t fight properly if your body is at its limit.”
You swallowed thickly at his words. It was almost like he was somewhat worried about you? It sounded unrealistic. The fatui are known for their selfish motives, so why would the number one member show any ounce of care in his guard? “N-No! It’s quite alright, sir, really! I can handle it.” you tried to sound reassuring, but he could see through your facade like glass.
He shifted in his seat, making you freeze up again. You really disliked how you could never properly understand what he was thinking or what he was planning to do next. You also couldn’t read his emotions because of the mask that hid his features. He never took it off once, and even during combat it remained on his head. “Alright.. If you insist, but if you’re planning on staying awake, then I am too. I would rather not waste the night sitting in silence, so let’s talk.” he said, bluntly. 
You stared at him like he said something psychotic. He wanted to talk? What was there to discuss? You honestly didn’t know much about one another besides the basics when it came to your ranking among the fatui, and his obvious spot in the harbingers. You also never took the Captain to be somebody who liked small talk. He kept his words often short and straight to the point, so that’s why it made it all the more difficult when it came to conversing with him in an unprofessional manner. “Sure.. um, forgive me, but I’m not exactly sure what we should talk about..” you could feel your palms becoming clammy from how nervous you were.
He suddenly chuckled, leaving you speechless because you didn’t think he was capable of sharing a laugh with you, let alone a smile. “You’re quite chatty, I’m a little surprised, but that’s just fine..” he paused, shifting his gaze onto you. “Tell me.. Why did someone like you decide to become a part of the fatui?”
You didn’t think he would ask such a personal question right off the bat. He usually could care less about those who were beneath him, but nonetheless, he was a bold man. He had no problem asking uncomfortable questions whenever he wanted. You weren’t sure how to respond. There were so many reasons. “Hm, well, I want the best for Teyvat! I think it’s an unfair world and there should be something done to those who harmed others in a negative manner.” you explained, crossing your legs together. “I dunno.. I just want to see change. Even if it’s something small, it’s the thought and effort that matters most.”
The Captain seemed somewhat unfazed by what you told him, but beneath his mask he was actually impressed by your words. He had heard many people discuss their reasonings and motives for joining such an organization. Some were ridiculous, like suggesting they enjoyed the power they had over others, or that they were able to use delusions to obtain what they wanted. Others had selfish desires for money or the thrills, but you seemed to be somebody who had passion. You didn’t care for the power or the other bullshit that came with being in the fatui. All you wanted was for others to be okay. He admired that, truthfully. He also struggled to process it at the same time. He found it somewhat hard to believe. He had been surrounded by self centered values and desires for so long that he almost forgot that there were people like you still out there. There was still good existing in this cruel universe.
“Hm, I see. You seem to be quite the driven person, and I respect you for that.” he replied. “I think you’ll end up somewhere great in life, and maybe you’ll have the opportunity to experience true peace in this life.”
His words brought comfort to you like a warm blanket being wrapped around you on a cold morning. You were glad to hear he felt optimistic about the future, but his praises made you feel even better, Earning the respect of the Captain wasn’t exactly a walk in the park. You’d have to destroy him in battle to get him to bat an eye at you, so it came as a big shock to hear he respected you. Despite that, you appreciated it. “Thank you, sir. It means a lot to me.. And I hope someday that there will be peace too.” you smiled. 
The Captain then stood up, shaking off the large jacket that rested on his broad shoulders. You watched him place it onto the grass that was just a couple inches away from him. He then sat down once again, facing you. 
You never saw much of his body. It was always hidden by his clothes and he hardly ever removed it unless he was by himself. Snezchnaya was also frequently cold, so it was understandable that he wore it all of the time since he spent a majority of his time in the land of cryo. However, through the fabric of his shirt, you could see his muscles that outlined through it. There was a side of your brain that was screaming for you to look away, but your eyes couldn’t move away from how nice he looked. You knew he had been through many fights and training throughout the years, but seeing it this close was making your body heat up. You had seen plenty of muscular men in your life, but this was different. He was also your boss, technically. It was wrong to think of him in such a manner. You could possibly face many punishments if your wild thoughts were able to surface to reality. 
He seemed to catch on to your staring, because he turned his head in your direction. You couldn’t physically see it, but you could feel his eyes watching you. “Something the matter? I only took off my coat because the fire was making me feel warm.” he explained, raising a brow underneath his mask. 
Immediately, you felt embarrassed that he had caught you. You weren’t doing it to be rude or anything, but now you just seemed like a fool in the eyes of your superior. You hoped he didn’t think of you negatively now. It was honestly quite easy to get on the Captain’s bad side these days. “N-No! I’ve never seen you without your jacket, that’s all. My apologies, sir, I shouldn’t-”
“You were just curious, nothing wrong with that.” he interrupted. “And, please, drop the formalities. Call me Capitano, you’ve earned that.” 
Your eyes practically bulged out of their sockets from how wide they had become. You were probably the most professional person to ever walk the earth. You didn’t think you would ever have the chance to use the Captain’s other name. It was a rare occasion. You didn’t think any of the other harbingers muttered it either, so what made you so special? All you did was work beside him and protect his life. It was as simple as it sounded, but nonetheless, you weren’t going to protest. 
You cleared your throat, trying to ignore the burning sensation that had appeared on your cheeks from his words. “R-Right! I’m sorry, sir- I mean, Capitano! I will use your name instead!” you stumbled over your words like a kid. “I’m not used to this kind of formality..”
The Captain nodded his head. He could understand from your perspective that a sudden change of professionalism could make you feel somewhat uneasy. He never gave out his real name on purpose. He’d much rather be known as the Captain, because, really, who deserved to know anything else about him? It wasn’t like he was an everyday citizen. “I understand, but you will get used to it. There’s no need to feel rushed or embarrassed, (Y/N).” he said. “I actually want to know more about you, because I hardly have any knowledge of your personal life. Don’t feel obligated to tell me anything, but I figured that’s how we could pass the time.”
You weren’t sure how you were supposed to react to his request. This man had to be sick or something because this was the first time he had ever asked to know things about you. Neither of you were friends and your relationship was simple enough. Then again, he was trying to pass the time, so he probably could care less about the little stories you had from childhood. You figured it’d be fine. “Sure! I can tell you anything.” you smiled.
The next hour was full of you talking and the Captain mostly listening. 
You shared many stories from your childhood. You talked about your parents and how you missed the meals they would cook for you, or the memories you had of watching the snowfall for the first time in your hometown. To an outsider, you seemed like one of those older people who were telling stories to the children, but to the Captain, you were so much more than that. There were so many interesting things he learned about you within those sixty minutes. You disliked a lot of tart foods, your favorite drink was the fonta that came from Fontaine, and you had a habit of drooling in your sleep from time to time. They were so basic, but he genuinely enjoyed hearing you talk. Your voice was soft and not overwhelming. It’s one of the reasons why he liked having you around him. Unlike some, you were tolerable to be around. Some people talked too much or annoyed him to no end, but you? He could never get tired of you, and that scared him. 
He struggled internally at the thought of you. He thought it was fine for a while. He only saw you as one of his subordinates who had to maintain his safety, but slowly that started to change. The Captain didn’t know how to approach these dizzying feelings that were developing for you. He felt comfortable. Like, he didn’t have to put on a brave facade and hide who he truly was when he was in your presence. He wished he could protect you from this world that had become so cruel. 
“(Y/N), do you mind if I were to show you something?” he asked, abruptly.
You blinked for a moment, pausing in your words. You had no idea what he was going to do, but you did trust him. “No, what is it?” you inquired, nodding your head to the side like a dog that was curious.
The Captain seemed to hesitate for a moment. He wondered if doing this was going to be a good idea, but he believed that doing so would establish some sort of trust between the two of you. He took a deep breath, then moved to take the mask that had been covering his face for several years. 
At that moment, your heart ceased in its movements. You had never seen the Captain’s identity before in the few months that you had been working under him. The mask he wore was a constant symbol of who he was and the unknown often scared many people, but you weren’t afraid of him in the slightest. His face was far from anything like the rumors people had made up about him. His eyes were the color of ice, piercing and bold. His skin was somewhat tan with several scars that were etched onto multiple places on his face. He had somewhat of a mature face, showing his age was evident to what you had originally assumed. He was so handsome and cunning. It made your body feel weak from the mere sight of his features. 
Your silence made him somewhat uneasy. He wondered if revealing his face was a good idea. Were you disgusted? Scared? He couldn’t read your emotions on your face, and it was eating him alive. 
“My apologies I-”
“No, don’t apologize! Really!” you cut him off, taking him off guard. “I.. I think you look.. Lovely.”
His face completely dropped the moment your words slipped past your tongue. Nobody had ever said such a thing to him before. All of the people he had interacted with had described him as a terrifying person. He was somebody that was a part of an organization that committed crimes on a daily basis. How could someone as beautiful as you say he was lovely? There was so much beauty in the horrible world you both existed in, and he was one of the dark corners that you wouldn’t look at. “You think I’m.. lovely?” he questioned, sounding serious and taken back at the same time. 
Oddly enough, you didn’t feel weird about saying it at all. It was almost like there was a sense of comfort that had built itself around the two of you as you talked with each other. “Yes! I admire you, a lot. That will never change.” you replied in a joyous tone. 
A burst of warmth suddenly enveloped his stomach. He wasn’t sure what this feeling was or why it was happening. The Captain was becoming even more confused over his emotions. He hadn’t felt something like this before, especially towards you. He didn’t want to admit it, but he actually liked what he was feeling. He wanted to experiment and see if you could stir even more out of the ordinary emotions inside him. You had complete control over him. The Captain couldn’t believe that, for the first time in decades, another woman had captivated him. 
He was stunned when you randomly stood up without warning and joined the empty space beside him. The Captain looked at you with somewhat wide eyes. It was an expression you had never seen written on his face before. It made you giggle. “There’s no need to be stiff.. I just wanted you to know that you shouldn’t hide your beauty all of the time. At the very least, you don’t ever have to fear doing it around me.” you made eye contact with him, making his tummy do flips once again. 
He remained unmoved for a brief moment, then he made his move. 
The Captain suddenly smashed his lips onto yours. His hands tossed away the mask that he had been holding to place them on your waist that he had been dying to touch for several months now. He was shocked to feel that you were kissing him back. After a few seconds, reality hit him like a wave, and he quickly realized what he was actually doing. He pulled away and was quick to feel flustered from his actions. “I am deeply sorry.. I shouldn’t have done such a thing without your-” he was instantly cut off the second you kissed him again, pushing your body on top of his. 
“I want this..” you whispered, settling yourself onto his lap. 
He wasted no time and pulled you against him. He had often fantasized about what it would be like to have you just like this. Your bodies touching one another, his lips on yours, your hands touching his long tresses of hair. You were a fucking dream. The Captain himself often wondered why someone as beautiful as you were alone in this world. There was so much to like about you. You were too good for a life in the fatui. You should’ve been in your hometown, fighting for your people. It sounded selfish of him, but he thought about taking you away from all of this. Keeping you safe from danger and living a quiet life. 
It would be perfect.
The Captain’s hands moved to squeeze the plush of your hips. He swallowed the soft moan that had escaped your lips as a result of his contact on your skin. You sounded just as erotic as he imagined. There wasn’t a single flaw about you. 
Your exchanges then started to grow more intense. His tongue dove itself into your mouth, exploring every inch of it. You could feel his painfully hard boner as you ground yourself against him. Each time your clothed cunt brushed on it, the Captain grunted or made some type of noise that was turning you on. There was so much built up chemistry between you both and you couldn’t see yourself pulling away. He was addictive and dangerous. This could get you terminated or into trouble with other members of the fatui. However, you found it hard to show any care at the moment. 
There was a brief pause. The Captain pulled away to press his forehead against yours, panting heavily from the lengthy makeout you just had. His pupils were blown with lust and there was a look in his eye that you had never seen before. It made this sudden thrill shoot up your spine at the thought of what was going to happen next. “Before we continue.. I want to warn you that I’m no longer going to hold back. If you wish to withdraw consent at any time, that’s alright, but I’m not going to be easy on you..” he stated, seduction dripping in his voice. 
Excitement coursed through your veins at the images being created in your head from his words. You truly wanted to know what the Captain was capable of in terms of intimacy, so you weren’t about to let the moment waste. “That’s fine..” you replied. “I like it rough.. Especially if you’re going to be the one to wreck me in the end..”
That was all it took for him. 
The man before you then pushed you onto the ground, hovering over you in the process. His eyes studied the different areas of your body. He couldn’t stop himself anymore. The Captain then pulled your top down, revealing your breasts that were so fucking cute. Your nipples perked as the air blew against them, making you shiver from the exposed contact. He tore your top in half so your upper half was now completely on display for him. His cock practically throbbed at the thought of what your cunt must have looked like, but this was already enough for him to lose it. 
He immediately attacked your neck, kissing and nibbling at the most sensitive areas of your skin. He could care less if someone were to see the marks he left on you. He thought it would be cute to watch you try and cover them up. 
Once your neck had multiple bites, he quickly moved to your chest. You whined the second his tongue made contact with your nipple. He swirled his tongue around it, making that familiar butterfly feeling appear in your belly once again. His other hand went to play with your other breast, squeezing and using his fingers to massage your other nipple. He could feel how warm your body had become from his gestures. You were so turned on. He had done so little to you. 
Your eyes connected with his icy ones. You were a complete mess like this. All you wanted was for him to do more to you. “C-Captain, please, more! Ah!” you moaned out when his teeth scraped around your sensitive nipple. 
He removed his mouth from your boob with a ‘pop’ sound. He couldn’t help but smirk at your desire for more pleasure. He didn’t think someone like you could be so erotic. There were so many things he wanted to do to you. The Captain wanted to push you to your limits and break you so all you could think about was him fucking your brains out. “Patience, darling. Let me show you how someone is supposed to make you feel..” he whispered, dragging the pads of his fingers towards your pants. 
It didn’t take long for him to yank your pants off, exposing your panties. His cock twitched when he noticed the large damp spot on your underwear. You had practically soaked through them. He took his thumb and pressed your clit, making you jolt at the electricity he sent along your body. You were practically screaming inside your head for him to do something to you. You hadn’t experienced a feeling like this before with anyone else. Sure, you’ve slept with random men you met while traveling, but they were nothing like him. 
Maybe it was the taboo of it all. You were his subordinate. You weren’t supposed to be doing something like this with a man who was in a much higher position than you. Who knows what kind of punishment or reaction might come from this getting out. He’s too powerful, so you doubted that he would lose his position in the harbingers, but that turned you on even more. The idea that you weren’t supposed to be doing this. Yet, you showed no signs of caring. It was like he had casted a spell on you and there was no way you’d be able to escape it. Not when he had that hungry look in his eye. 
The Captain pulled your panties down your thighs and eventually tossed them away somewhere else. He almost came on the spot from your sticky pussy that was dripping with arousal. He craved nothing more than to have you around him. He took one of his fingers and dragged it along your cunt, making you cry out briefly from the pleasure. He gathered some of your slick and stuck his finger into his mouth, savoring the taste of your sweetness on his tongue. You were just as delicious as you appeared. He then pushed one of his digits into your hole, earning a moan from your lips. You felt so tight around his finger. He knew he had to prep you beforehand, but he wasn’t so sure if you’d be able to take him. 
You gripped your breasts as he fingered you at a slow pace. It felt so good. He was taking his time and he was making sure you were enjoying yourself. He had so much knowledge on those spots inside you that made your stomach twist with excitement. “Right there, yes, right there..” you whimpered, looking at him with desperation in your hues. 
He grinned at the little responses he was getting from you. You were so damn cute. He wondered what else he could do, but it seemed like what he was doing was enough for you. “Yeah? Talk to me, baby, I wanna hear you.” he started circling your clit, sending double the pleasure along your body. 
You were practically humping his hand, coating it with your juices in the process. You couldn’t control the various moans and whines that kept coming from your mouth. You were slowly becoming lost in the bliss, and he fucking loved it. “Please, sir, more! I want you inside me!” you cried. 
His eyes grew wide. Who knew you could be such a dirty girl? This surprised him, but nonetheless, who was he to deny you of your pleasure? You had been so obedient to him over the months. It was the right thing to do. “As you wish, darling.” he replied, removing his fingers from your aching cunt.
You shuddered when you heard his belt being unbuckled. You sat up slightly to gain a view of his cock that was fully erect. It was roughly around seven inches with a lot of girth that made you wonder how you were supposed to take it all. The tip was already leaking lots of precum. You could feel this euphoria going throughout your body. He probably had so much pent up stress that he had been waiting to take out on somebody, and that was you. 
The man then took your thighs in his hands, pushing them apart so he had full access to your pretty pussy. His breath hitched when his tip made contact with your clit. It had been far too long for him. “I’m not going to hold back..” he whispered. “I want to make you an absolute slut for my cock, got it?”
You nodded, taking your fingers and spreading your lips apart. He took that as his sign to continue. He then pushed his cock into your cunt, making you gasp with pleasure as well as some pain from the stretch. 
As soon as he entered you, the Captain let out the sexiest groan you had ever heard. Your walls were hugging his cock so nicely. He continued to push forward, so he was now completely bottomed out inside of you. He looked below at the sight before him. Your pussy was wrapped around his cock like a vice. The sensation of your warm cunt inviting him in was like ecstasy to him. He mentally complained to himself for not taking you much sooner. Now, he wasn’t going to let that moment slip through his fingers. There was so much he wanted to do, and the night was still young. 
The air was practically knocked out of your lungs the second he started moving. You felt so full. You were surprised that he was able to make himself fit, but you had assumed that was what the foreplay was for.
It didn’t take him long to increase his thrusts. Once he noticed your desperate eyes silently begging him for more, he took that as his sign to let go. The Captain couldn’t stop drinking in the sight of your gorgeous body. Your pussy squelched and cried whenever he moved, your pretty tits bounced, and that sweet voice of yours continued calling his name like it was a prayer. That self restraint he had was quickly dwindling, but you seemed to not care. If anything, you wanted him to destroy you. 
He used his hands to take hold of your thighs, gripping them firmly. You pinched your nipples to feel some extra stimulation while he fucked you. Due to the humidity of Natlan, the both of you were already becoming quite overheated. You could see the sweat glistening on the Captain’s body. It outlined his well defined muscles and the scars that were scattered over his skin. “Captain! Please, don’t stop..” you whined. “Feels so good..”
His right hand went to cup your cheek. He used his thumb to press onto your puffy lips, placing it into your mouth. You obediently sucked on his thumb, swirling your tongue around it. Fuck, you were so fucking dirty. He didn’t need to ask for a single thing. “You’re such a good girl. You drive me crazy..” he then removed his thumb, moving it to your swollen clit. “Don’t you worry about a single thing, okay? The Captain will take care of you, darling.”
You let out a cry when he began playing with your clit. The pleasure he had been giving you was now becoming overwhelming. His dick was practically breaking you apart. The tip abused that button inside you that made stars appear in your vision. He knew exactly what to do to make you fall apart in his hands. 
There was this sudden protectiveness that creeped up on the Captain. Looking down at you, he could feel that urge to want to save you from a place like this. This world and the organization you were both involved in was terrifying and cruel. The idea of possibly losing you to somebody else made anger course through his body. He knew it sounded selfish. It was likely that your ideals differentiated from each other, but he didn’t care. He wanted to keep you safe. That idea of living a quiet life with one another sounded wonderful. For the first time in so long, he could actually imagine such a life with somebody else that didn’t seem temporary. 
His thrusts suddenly slowed to a more tender pace. You looked at him with curious eyes, wondering where the sudden shift came from. “I’m gonna keep you safe..” he grunted. “Do you understand me..? I’m gonna make sure your beautiful heart is never broken again.. You won’t have to live in fear with me beside you.”
Your cheeks felt hot at his words. It almost sounded like the Captain was confessing to you at that very second. You weren’t sure what to say or how to react. It honestly made you feel some sort of comfort. Someone like him being able to take care of you without having to worry about the enemies that could potentially harm you. His words sounded sincere. It made your heart leap out of your chest. “R-Really..? You want that?” you blinked, placing your hands onto his broad shoulders. “Please don’t lie to me, Capitano..”
He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against yours. The lengthy strands of his hair drooped over the sides of his head. The expression on his features was serious. You could feel his eyes studying you. “I could never lie to you. Not when you’ve done so much for me.. I crave nothing more than to be with you, and only you. I will devote my entire life to keeping you alive..” he replied. “The choice is yours, my dear.”
You said nothing. Instead of using your words, you kissed him. This time, your kisses felt passionate and loving, unlike the ones you shared prior. These were real. You couldn’t find any deception in his tongue and the way he spoke. 
He read your mind and resumed with those harsh ruts. He swallowed down any noises that you made and smirked to himself at the way you struggled to kiss him back whenever his tip kissed your g-spot. He decided to go deeper and angle his hips a different way. He was practically fucking up into you, and you were loving it. The kiss you were sharing was now broken apart because you couldn’t control what was coming from your throat. He thought it was cute to see you in such a state. It was almost like you had forgotten the two of you were both outside. 
“Capitano! Fuck, yes! P-Please, ruin me..” you begged. “I’m so close.. Ah! Please, please! I need you”
He gritted his teeth at your words. He noticed that your walls were becoming much tighter than they were before, implying that your orgasm was just ahead of you. Your desperation turned him on. He wasn’t about to make you wait. 
The Captain grabbed your hips. He had you practically bouncing on his cock from the force at which he was pulling you towards him. Your belly was tightening up with the erratic thrusts he was unleashing on your body. You could feel that climax inching closer. It was making you lose control, and all you could think about was his cock completely ripping you apart. You wanted him to be the only one who made you cum. He was the only man alive who was capable of making you feel such euphoria. 
Those were the exact thoughts the Captain wanted you to have.
With one final thrust, your orgasm completely crashed over you. Your pussy clamped around his cock, leaving a sticky creamy white ring to circle around the base. Your thighs were trembling and you could feel tears developing on your lash line from how amazing your climax felt on your body. “Ahhh.. oh my god.” you cried, panting heavily from how intense it was. 
The Captain pushed your thighs towards you so your knees were now nearing your chest from the way he had you bent. Your hazy eyes grew wide when you realized that his thrusts weren’t ceasing, and he was continuing that rough pace against your cunt. “I’m not done yet..” he said. “This pussy is gonna be dripping when I’m done..”
It didn’t take long for him to drag another orgasm out of you. The overstimulation was sending waves of pleasure all along your tired body, but you didn’t want it to stop. Your pussy was aching and spasming around his dick, drawing the Captain closer to his own high. Those disgusting thoughts of him filling you to the brim with his cum were clouding his mind heavily. It was all he could think about. 
He grabbed onto your throat, firmly gripping it so he could properly fuck you. He could feel his cock twitching and that familiar feeling of an orgasm hurtling towards him with every rut of his hips. He practically growled the moment his balls tightened, finally releasing his cum into your cunt. Warm thick spurts of his seed leaked into your womb, making you shiver from the warmth spreading across your lower abdomen. 
He removed his hand from around your throat, remaining inside of you so none of his cum would slip out of your hole. His fingers brushed along your cheek. Your face was so gorgeous to him. Your eyes were glassy and there was a lazy smile resting on your lips. “Like what you see..?” you questioned, giggling slightly from his stare. 
The Captain came to your level and pecked your lips. He couldn’t hide his smile when being so close to you. “Absolutely..” he replied.
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© NXUVILLETTE ┆ all rights reserved, do not repost, translate, or claim as your own.
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thewitchandtheassassin · 2 months ago
Text
Life, Death, and the Space in Between Part Two (Agatha Harkness x Reader x Rio Vidal)
Summary: Centuries later, you find yourselves reunited once more.
Words: 2430
Warnings: Canon violence, language, arguing, etc.
A/N: I hate how obsessed I am with this couple but here we fuckin' are.
-X-
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Three Centuries Later
Sipping your morning coffee, you idly flipped through the newspaper as you savored the stillness of the early hours. You had sorted through your expected duties, leaving you with a bit of time to yourself before the cosmic powers of Life dragged you back into its grasp. You may never be human, but you could at least enjoy a few mortal pleasures.
As the door to your temporary abode slammed opened, you sighed and tossed aside the paper.
“Hello, my love,” you greeted with an easy smile, tilting your head back to accept the deep, probing - almost furious - kiss from Rio’s painted lips. The aggression took you by surprise but you melted into the embrace, offering her whatever solace and reprieve she needed.
Dragging your chair back from the table, she dropped down into your lap, tossing an arm around your shoulders while downing the remnants of your drink. Protest died on your lips, knowing it would be useless to argue with the lady of death. It wasn’t abnormal for her and, honestly, you didn’t mind the quirk. You found it amusing.
“I found her.”
Head tilting curiously, you cupped Rio’s cheek, wiping a speck of blood from her cheek and knocking a piece of shattered glass from her dark tresses. “Who?”
“Agatha,” she practically growled, glaring at the dark wood table before turning her eyes to you. They softened, though you could see the fire raging within. “I wasn’t looking for her per se, but I did find her.”
Pressing your lips together thoughtfully, fighting your initial reaction, you slowly nodded. “And how did that go?”
“We fought. I made her front door explode.” She said it so casually that all you could do was blink up at her. “Turns out, little miss Scarlet Witch kept her trapped in Westview. She has no power now. Won’t be long until she has some poor idiots singing that song so she can rectify that.”
It was stated emotionlessly but knowing your former lover was mortal had clearly shaken Rio. Before, you could rely on Agatha being formidable. Powerful. To be lacking her purple, well…
“I see you didn’t reap her.”
Rio rolled her eyes, fingers playing with the baby hairs on the nape of your neck. “No. I…”
“She’s our weak spot,” you acknowledged, running a finger over the slope of her nose. “You and I are inevitable. A perfect balance. She was always our anomaly and we love that about her. Even if she still hates us three hundred years later.”
Pressing her forehead against yours, Rio poured. “Why doesn’t she want us?”
“She does,” you cooed, nipping at the pushed out lip teasingly. “She’s always been our stubborn girl. She just refuses to deal with her grief and instead-“
“Sinks a fucking unsinkable ship? Causes massive disasters so she can throw another tantrum or make a point?” she snarled, though there was little heat behind it. She’d always appreciated the dramatics of Agatha’s gestures, even if it often upset the natural order and balance you carefully crafted together.
“She was always incredibly skilled at getting our attention,” you chuckled, letting your mind wander back to the woman you remembered centuries ago. “There was never a dull moment when Agatha was around.”
“I miss her,” she admitted, shoving her head into your neck as her inhumanly sharp teeth scraped the flesh. “I cut her hand… and then I licked it clean. Tasting how mortal she is now is upsetting. I always liked how the purple sparked against my tongue.”
“If you were anyone else, I would mention how unsanitary that is,” you murmured, head tipping as a cool mouth explored the familiar expanse.
“Shut up.”
Tangling your fingers in her hair, you yanked hard and felt the lust rebound through your connection as the low moan met your ears.
-X-
As the dirt and grass shifted, the Road making way for a new witch to sink its proverbial teeth into, a passing thought flickered through Agatha’s mind but she brushed it away with a simple mental wave of her hand.
There’s no possible way. The universe can’t hate me that much.
Watching with bated breath, the newly formed coven gasped as two sets of limbs and bodies began to crawl from the wet soil.
“Oh, you have got to be kidding!” Agatha shouted, years of resentment burning in ocean eyes as you righted yourself from the fresh grave. Her stomach rolled with anguish - guilt, pain - at the brief expression of hurt that crossed your features before you leaned down, offering a hand to your other half and tugging her up from the hole she’d clawed her way out of. “Never mind, the universe does hate me.”
Teen glanced between Agatha and you, his eyes wide with fear and excitement.
“Heard you guys were having a party,” Rio greeted, her usual nonchalance in full bloom as she wandered closer to Agatha, forever drawn like a moth to its doom. “We were in the neighborhood.”
A flower blossomed from her fingers, beautiful in such drab surrounds.
“Surprise,” she gasped, eyes wide and bordering on deranged. “My lady.”
Always in step with your antagonistic lover, you were quick to wrap an arm around Agatha’s waist as she lunged at Rio, glaring at the smug woman pointedly.
“Come now, Agatha, it’s not worth the effort,” you murmured, trying to ignore how your heart fluttered at the close proximity.
She screamed in frustration, wrenching herself from your arms before storming away in a huff. The teenager chased after her, leaving you to stand awkwardly before Agatha’s makeshift coven while Rio petted the massive fucking spider on her jacket.
You might’ve been Lady Life but holy fuck, that thing was huge and kind of freaked you out. All life was important and sacred but it needed to stay far, far away from you.
“What’s up? I’m Rio.” You gagged as she guided the damned thing into her clothes, inching away as her eyes went wide and she crept towards you. “Aw, what’s wrong, baby? He’s sweet.”
“I’m sure,” you responded, stepping backwards warily. “He can be sweet… over there. Away from me.”
She growled playfully, stomping at you and cackling when you scurried back a few steps.
“So, you’re a green witch, huh? B-both of you?” the woman you recognized as Alice Wu-Gulliver. You remembered her poor mother, begging for protection for the young Alice. Watched Rio take Lorna’s soul when the curse overcame her.
“Less a green witch,” Rio replied, tilting her head in such an adorable way that you had to bite your lip to suppress a giggle, “and more the green witch.”
That frightening tone of Death startled the huddled women but you simply rolled your eyes, hooking an arm through Rio’s.
“She’s a green witch. I just came along for the ride, it seems,” you mused, studying the scenery around you curiously. To be standing on The Road, a place forged by Agatha’s lies and quick wit, was not quite what you’d expected when you’d been yanked from your home. It was born from a maelstrom of bullshit and naïve witches believing that power could simply be procured instead of earned.
How is this…
Dark eyes cut in your direction, a similar interest gleaming back.
Strolling down the dirt path, Rio whistled, knocking you into a patterned step-skip combination that was so innocent and bizarre that it made you cackle. You could hear Agatha ahead, speaking with Teen in a semi-quiet manner but your ears were keen to whispers. Despite the unsettling nature of The Road and the lack of understanding how, Rio seemed completely at home in this strange place.
It’s all real, but none of this is natural, she mused, chewing her lip thoughtfully as she peered around. I don’t think any of these witches are capable of changing reality itself but I guess I’ve seen weirder.
“I can’t tell if I hate her or if I want her number,” Jen whispered to the group behind you, nearly swallowing her tongue when Rio abruptly paused to turn and face them. An eerie grin crossed her flawless features and she waved before twisting back in your grasp and continuing onward.
“What a scary bitch,” Lilia breathed.
Should I be worried? you teased, snorting at Rio’s brow rising high.
Before you could blink, she had you shoved against a tree, tongue shoved into your mouth incessantly as she both made her point to the gawking witches and used the opportunity as an excuse to grope you. It was demanding and needy, completely indecent, and by the time she was willing to release you from her clutches, your knees were shaking.
“I-I was kidding,” you said breathlessly, panting as a familiar smirk curled the edges of her lips.
“Oh, I’m aware,” she purred, tugging you away from the still-gaping group and following after your former lover. “But we both know you loved that. You like staking your claim.”
Sliding your hand into her back pocket, you shrugged nonchalantly.
-X-
Standing at the doorway of the music booth, your eyes glided along the lithe form of Agatha Harkness. She looked good, especially in a 70’s outfit that probably would’ve looked weird on just about anyone else. It had been so long since you’d really gotten a moment to just appreciate her. Remember every dip and curve…
“Hey,” you grunted, nodding at Agatha’s drifting hand. “Must everything be a ploy with you?”
Dark eyes flittered to the witch’s wiggling fingers and she snorted, shaking her head. “You never change, do you, Aggie? Nice try, though. I almost bought it.”
“Of course you protect her. Again,” Agatha sneered, venom on her tongue and fury in her eyes at the perceived slight. “All you ever do is protect her. You can’t -”
“Bullshit,” you cut in sharply, glaring at the offended woman you still loved. It was a nightmare ignoring the burning ache in your chest, but you refused to let her grief insult your relationship with them. “I protected you just as fiercely. I went against my nature - my very being for you. So if you want to hate me, fine, but don’t you ever say I didn’t love you just as much I love her. That I wouldn’t have done anything for you. That I didn’t do everything I possibly could for you. And for him.”
Staggering away from your sudden outburst, Agatha stared at you with misty eyes. What you said was true. You both had always treated her as an equal, despite the odd, unending connection you would always share. Once upon a time, it had bothered her, that she would never have that same bond, but you did everything you could to never make her feel like an outsider.
When they’d been driven from town, you willingly killed for her and for Nicky. And for a brief moment, she considered apologizing for downplaying what you had done, for unintentionally spitting in your face, but righteous anger kept her tongue heavy as lead in her mouth.
Unwilling to suffer through your anguish any longer, you stalked out of the room.
“Hate me if you want. Believe whatever bullshit you tell yourself at night, but we fought against every power we could for him,” Rio said softly, watching Agatha’s features shift then harden. “She had to fight even harder than I did. Remember that. The universe and cosmos… they don’t forget. And they rarely forgive.”
-X-
Of fucking course it had to be that song. The bastardized, albeit sweet song-turned-protection-spell that was once Nicky’s creation. Luckily for you - and Rio - the curse haunting Alice didn’t seem to have any interest in the the ladies of Life and Death, so you flopped onto the couch to watch the impromptu jam session with unimpressed disdain. Truthfully, you hated what Agatha had done to the song, marring what innocence your son had left for the world.
I look so hot in this. So do you. Do you think the Road would be mad if you fucked me against that piano?
Shooting Rio a glance, you couldn’t stop the involuntary smile that befell you as she winked from behind the drums.
I think I might need these outfits. We can relive the 70s.
Pay attention to what you’re doing, you scolded. And maybe Agatha won’t die in this sham of a Road. And you hated the 70s.
Maybe that’s what I want, she replied flippantly, finding the beat effortlessly. I’ve been trying to collect her soul for centuries. She should’ve died quite a few times, if someone hadn’t interfered.
I…
I know.
Watching the performance, you couldn’t take your eyes off Agatha. She could hold the world’s attention if she demanded.
It brought you back to raising Nicky. How she would sing him lullabies as he fed, the songs far too mature though they seemed to soothe his moods. The nostalgia was overwhelming and for a moment, you thought you might get sick, before the tangy, metallic scent overtook your nose.
Blinking, you peered over at Teen, watching how he hunched and bowed in pain. You started to stand from your seat, but Rio’s shrewd look sent you crashing back down onto the cushions.
You can’t.
Watching the demon burst into flames, atop Alice’s shoulders, you were the first to meet Teen as his body went limp and he slammed into the floor.
“Oh shit! Teen!”
There was chaos and unfettered panic as everyone began worrying over the unconscious boy. Hands and words and thoughts came together in a crescendo of concern and nothing was truly getting done, other than Agatha snapping at her fellow witches as tears flooded her eyes. Swallowing your discomfort, knowing you probably shouldn’t intervene - that Rio would be less than thrilled by your choice - you stepped into the fray and lifted him with ease. Despite his age, he was a fairly light boy. Very unassuming. Meek.
Agatha shrieked, demanding you release him to one of the other witches, but you ignored her. You looked to Rio, whose eyes darted between you and Teen, before slipping down the stairs tucked within the piano and back onto the Road. His life was fading quickly, crimson dripping from his wound onto the ground beneath your feet and smearing across the fallen leaves.
Settling him on the nearest flat surface, you took two steps back as the coven gathered around him.
Rio took one step forward.
And all you could see was history repeating itself again.
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halfmoonaria · 5 months ago
Text
superstar
pairing: jenna ortega & reader
summary: you're a singer, and jenna thinks you're a superstar
word count: 1.6k
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Jenna had always been adamant in interviews and podcasts that she wasn't looking for a partner.
The notion of opening herself up to someone, of sharing her most intimate and vulnerable sides, was terrifying to her.
She'd often say that the industry was already a whirlwind, and adding a relationship into the mix seemed like a recipe for disaster.
Her words resonated with a certain conviction, leaving fans and followers convinced that Jenna was dedicated solely to her career and personal growth.
Hence, when news broke that Jenna had met someone, the world was taken aback.
And her family, who had long accepted her stance on relationships, were particularly stunned.
What made it even more astonishing was that her partner was not just anyone but a singer. The very idea seemed to clash with everything Jenna had previously expressed.
If anyone had expected Jenna to find love, it would have been with someone far removed from the spotlight, someone who could offer a grounding presence amidst the chaos of fame.
Yet, there she was, completely enchanted by you, whose life was as much in the public eye as hers.
Your talent and passion had pierced through Jenna's carefully constructed walls, revealing a side of her that no one had ever seen.
It was an unexpected connection, but it was real, and it transformed Jenna in ways she had never imagined possible.
You were her age, having started singing at a tender age, your voice a gift that quickly became your solace.
From the early days of strumming a guitar in your bedroom to performing on small stages, your journey was one of both talent and resilience.
Your songs were deeply personal, often touching on themes of mental health, a reflection of your own struggles since your teenage years. The raw honesty in your lyrics resonated with many, turning your pain into a source of comfort for others.
Jenna admired you not just for your musical prowess but for your courage.
In a world where vulnerability was often masked, you stood as a beacon of authenticity. You spoke openly about your battles with anxiety and depression, both in your music and in interviews.
Your willingness to share your story in hopes of helping others, struck a chord with Jenna.
She saw in you a kindred spirit, someone who navigated the complexities of fame with a heart wide open, unafraid to show the scars that came with it.
The openness, the fearless confrontation of your inner demons, was what drew Jenna to you.
It was no surprise that the two of you had found each other, you were both well looking and had surprisingly more similarities than anybody would thought.
Your fame had skyrocketed over the years, just like hers had.
Sold-out arenas, chart-topping albums, and countless awards had become part of your daily reality.
You were recognized wherever you went, your face gracing the covers of magazines and your name trending on social media.
Just like Jenna; two of the biggest stars in the entertainment industry to end up together was something nobody had expected.
Despite your immense popularity, you remained grounded, always remembering the humble beginnings that shaped you.
The magnitude of your success was undeniable.
Fans across the globe found solace in your music, drawn to the sincerity of your lyrics and the powerful way you connected with your audience.
Your concerts were not just performances but communal experiences where people came together, united by the themes of your songs.
Interviews and talk shows frequently featured you, not only to discuss your latest projects but to delve into the deeper conversations about mental health that you championed.
Jenna couldn't help but be captivated by how you balanced the pressures of fame with an unwavering commitment.
It was this genuine openness, this ability to remain true to yourself amidst the chaos of fame, that drew Jenna to you like a magnet.
Despite your hectic schedules and the constant media attention, your relationship flourished in the quiet moments away from the spotlight.
There were times you often found yourself on set with her, quietly supporting her through long days of filming.
Whether it was bringing her coffee during early morning shoots or simply being there to listen during breaks, you made sure she knew you were always by her.
Likewise, Jenna joined you on tour, even if just few times. Those moments were rare but cherished, her presence bringing a sense of calm amidst the chaos of your busy life on the road.
She would watch from the wings as you performed, a proud smile on her face, supporting you in the way only she could.
At home, the connection between you two deepened in ways Jenna never had anticipated.
There were nights when she'd sit on the edge of the bed or curl up on the couch, watching you play your guitar and sing just for her.
The closeness of those moments, your voice soft and full of emotion, always sent a thrill through her.
More than once, she'd found herself unable to resist you, her desire building until she was straddling your lap, the vibrations of your music moving through her.
Which had ended up in her getting off on your thigh multiple times as you played, your voice serenading her into bliss.
Jenna loved you in a way she'd never loved anyone before. You were everything she didn't know she needed, the only person who truly understood her.
She often marveled at the thought that you were all hers, unable to fully grasp how someone as incredible as you had chosen her.
Whether you were strumming a guitar at home or belting out lyrics on stage, you captivated her completely.
You were the only one she wanted, the only one who made her feel this intensely.
When you performed was when all of those thoughts overflowed.
On stage, you were magnetic, your voice powerful and sultry, sending shivers down her spine. And when you danced, it was as if the music lived in your body, every movement fluid and mesmerizing.
Jenna couldn't take her eyes off you.
She adored the outfits you wore—revealing pieces that clung to your body, accentuating every curve.
She understood why you chose them; the heat from the lights and the crowd demanded something breathable, but there was no denying the allure they added to your presence.
She found your voice captivating, sexy almost, whether it was the soft croon she heard at home or the commanding, electrifying sound that filled arenas.
Each note you sang and every step you took drew her in deeper, reminding her that despite all the eyes on you, you were hers alone.
Jenna admired you fiercely. Every time she watched you perform, she fell a little more in love, unable to understand how she was lucky enough to have you.
The way you owned the stage, the way your voice and dancing wrapped around her heart, left her breathless.
She loved watching you perform. For reasons that went beyond the obvious.
It wasn't just for the music or the energy of the crowd. There was something deeper, more personal, in the way she observed you on stage.
How deeply you connected with your audience, but even more so by how much of yourself you gave in each performance.
She knew every movement, every note came from a place that only understood. And that knowledge made it all more thrilling.
But what really drove her wild was what came after.
The sex afterwards was incredible.
You'd come of stage, still pulsing with the energy of the performance, and she could feel the heat radiating off you.
The way you'd pull her close, your hands exploring as if you couldn't wait another second. Your touch demanding and urgent, made her knees weak.
Those nights, when you were still on fire from the adrenaline, were her favorite.
If something hadn't gone the way you wanted; a missed note, a technical glitch, or someone who'd pissed you off backstage — Jenna knew she was in for it.
You'd take that frustration and channel it directly into her, the way you'd push her against the wall, not wasting a second, your intensity making her shiver with anticipation.
She craved those moments, the way your hands would be rougher, your kisses hungrier. The way you'd take control, leaving her breathless and utterly consumed by you.
Jenna loved every second of it, the raw unapologetic need that you unleashed after a show.
It was the side of you that only she got to experience, and it was addictive.
After every show, after the adrenaline had faded and the passion between you two had cooled to a gentle warmth, it was the quiet moments that Jenna cherished the most.
Lying in bed together, your bodies tangled in the sheets, she would trace the lines of your face, marveling at how someone so fierce on stage could be so tender with her.
It was in those moments that she realized just how much she loved you—not just for the superstar the world saw, but for the person you were when it was just the two of you.
No matter how hectic your lives became, no matter the miles between sets and stages, the connection you shared remained unshakeable.
You both had your own worlds, your own battles to fight, but in each other, you found a refuge, a place where you could be completely yourselves.
And as she drifted off to sleep beside you, Jenna knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, nothing could change the way she felt.
You were a star, but more importantly, you were her star, and she wouldn't trade that for anything in the world.
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satocidal · 1 year ago
Text
𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ Da Vinci in making — Gojo Satoru
Warnings: establish relationship; you have a kid together idk
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Satoru who sits there with his shoulders shaking and lips bitten hard, as he tries to hold back his laughter.
“It’s a very pretty drawing honey,” you add weakly, your help not worth a dime as your son sighed in his dismay.
The both of you, Mr. and Mrs. (Or another Mr. If that’s what you prefer) Gojo lay in your bed, ready to call it a night when your son hopped into the room all so merrily—in his hands, hoisted his proud little drawing.
But that was the scene 5 minutes before the silly little disaster because as of now, Satoru sat their clutching a pillow to his face as he tried to hide his laughter in vain—“It’s ugly,” your child whined again, deflection plastered over his face.
“Oh baby it’s not- It’s, it’s really p-pretty baby,”
“Why’s dad laughing then?” The innocence in the words of the little boy panged nails of guilt at your heart for you too, struggled to manage your own laughter.
“That’s because,” you paused, it was a hideous drawing, “Because…because,” you stared at your husband, glaring at him—you knew he was aware of your annoyed gaze, “Because my son’s Da Vinci in making,” Satoru mumbled against the plush of the pillow.
And you wondered just how he managed Tsumiki and Megumi when he did—but then Megumi wasn’t exactly happy to be with Satoru anyways.
“Daddy’s an idiot and doesn’t understand the beauty of art,”
And just at that, Satoru cackled into the pillow louder— the annoying idiot, you groaned internally, “It’s alright sweetheart, just gotta practice more right? We- we can put it on the fridge if you want,” your suggestion did lighten his mood a slight.
“But daddy’s…” your son’s dismay confused your heart- torn apart you sat, “Daddy will get it framed if that’s what it takes baby,” you grumbled under your breath—pinching Satoru’s side as you did so, a squeal he let out at that.
Your son smiled softly at his father’s squeal—loving the sound, “You like it mommy?”
“Course’ I do honey,” and that was solace to your little son, who wobbled away—shooting his father the ultimate side eye when Satoru asked for a hug from him.
“You’re such an idiot,” you mumbled as the door closed behind him, huffing at your husband.
“You gotta admit babe,” Satoru grinned, “it was ugly,”
And you had to admit for what it was, a pretty ugly stick man for Satoru that he’d drawn—but surely, it was the thought and effort that counted.
“But alright, I’ll frame it for right above our bed so you can see sexy lil me when I fuck-”
“-Satoru!”
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All of this work is entirely original and my own, please refrain from copying or reposting.
Likes and Reblogs highly appreciated!
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luvly-writer · 15 days ago
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His Solace
Dick Grayson x reader
Author's note: I wrote this for the sole purpose of wanting to read it later. Literally for my own guilty pleasure. LMAO
Warning: It's cute?
---
Dick had a headache. He had just gotten to his apartment. He had spent a few days at Jump City helping Kory with a few things for the Titans. Normally, he wouldn't have minded but seeing as she took the opportunity to call him out on whether he was ever choosing Barbara or her; he was exhausted. Then, he was called to Gotham to aid Bruce in the development of a case with Scarecrow. It would have been fine, again, if it weren't for Jason and Tim trying to rip each other to shreds because of a petty argument; Damian antagonizing Stephanie; and to put a cherry on the top, Barbara wouldn't stop leaving very pointed comments on the same thing Kory had asked him. He had tried to contact Wally, see if they could go out and have some fun, ease his mind a little, but nop, on a mission with Barry. Finally, he had gotten home, when Bruce called that Damian, Steph, and Jason had decided to team up in their latest recon and it had been a disaster because no one followed orders. He could feel the agitation bubbling and rising with his stress levels. The cases had begun piling up, the villains would just not stay in Arkham, the alarm of the remainder of his Young Justice meeting kept beeping, could feel the panic attack rising.
"Fuck it. I'm taking a vacation."
---
You took a deep breath with your eyes closed and exhaled. Yeah, this is what you deserved. You had been dying to go to Bali and after many months of hard work, you had piled enough days to get a one-month vacation. The life of a Public Relationist was a hassle. You were damn good at your job but it was starting to strain your mental health. Burnout was approaching faster and faster. As you walked towards the pool, you looked for a few seats available and noticed one in the perfect spot. As you approached it, you noticed that the most gorgeous man had been sitting in the one next to it. Beautiful tanned skin, soft dark hair, and dazzling blue eyes.
"Is this seat taken?" You asked with a bright and warm smile. Dick felt his heart drop at the sight of you. You were honestly one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen, and he had been around aliens and demigods. Your hair was tied in a loose ponytail, your bathing suit hugged you in all the right places, and you were standing there giving a smile that left him breathless.
"Not at all, go ahead" he responded with his own smile. You placed your things down and pulled out a book and some sunglasses.
"Any good?" You heard him ask pointing toward your book
"So far so good, I just began reading it last night" she answered with a sheepish smile, "If I see you again, I'll keep you updated"
He chuckled and extended his hand, " Di-Richard" He hesitated in giving his name. He was in Bali for a whole month, next to a beautiful woman who had no idea who he was. No expectation to be the charming eldest of the Wayne household and no need to put on a mask as Nightwing. Yeah, he was gonna enjoy this small freedom.
"Y/n," she said as she shook his hand, "You don't look like a Richard" She continued making him scoff out a laugh.
"No? Why's that?"
"Richard sounds like an old serious guy in his 40's"
"You don't think I could be serious" he leaned forward with a slight smirk on his face
"Maybe, but, unless you keep a very good skincare routine, you don't look past thirty"
He laughed out loud and shook his head, " So, what's your hypothesis?"
"You have a nickname that suits you better"
"Dick"
"Excuse me" She looked at him with a hint of teasing in her eyes and a small smile.
"My nickname is Dick"
"I don't know which one is worst" she giggled and he looked at her incredulously. He laughed at that, it had been some time since he was able to feel light with some mindless teasing.
"Oh come on, as if you could come up with something better"
"Hmmm" She took a moment to think and he took it as an opportunity to really look at her. She had such a unique beauty, like those faces that stay in your mind for months, unforgettable. "What about Ric?" He scrunched his nose in distaste, "Richie" He shook his head with a laugh, "Ricky" He stopped to think for a moment and inevitably said no again. "Well, Dickie, I have absolutely no clue" She laughed.
"Dickie's nice," he said softly, and she hummed in victory.
They had spent the rest of that day talking when huger started to strike, he invited her for dinner and she accepted surprisingly. They had spent the rest of their vacation together. Hanging out, taking tours, swimming together, dining together, and even sleeping together. Dick hadn't felt so light in a long time. They clicked so well. They weren't taking this seriously because it was just a vacation. Soon they would have to go back to their lives, hers in New York and his in Gotham. Finally, the vacation was coming to an end. The morning before her trip back, they had decided to stay in her room and have a lazy morning, just enjoying the last moments together. They were lying in the bed, him on his back and her with her torso on top of him. She was softly caressing his hair as he caressed her back.
"I think I'm gonna miss you," she said softly.
"You think?" he teased and she looked at him exasperated. He chuckled and pulled her closer. "Oh honey, I know I'm gonna miss you" he pulled her closer and he felt her relax in his arms.
They had exchanged phone numbers a while back. Even though Gotham, Bludhaven and New York weren't that far away, they still had their own lives to attend to. They had agreed to remain friendly, without a title and a definition. Just each other's Bali vacation sweetheart.
A few months later…
Dick refused to cut contact with you. Given your demanding lives, you couldn't talk every single day, but he made the effort to. Daily messages and flowers sent to your apartment were a constant. When you did talk, it could go on for hours. Dick hadn't told anyone about you. It was his sweet secret, his solace. After one rough week, in particular, he had called you desperately, wanting to hear your voice and laughter. There was a small voice in the back of his mind that called him pathetic, but it was gone the second you answered the phone. He had been hurt, bad. His family and all of his leadership roles were getting to him and your sweet soothing voice cracked him. He started crying and blabbering, asking if he could see you. You agreed almost instantly and that weekend he took a train to New York.
When he got to your door, you saw the state he was in, deep eye bags, and an arm brace. You pulled him into a big hug and he just crumbled in your arms. That night, he confessed he was Nightwing. He just let everything out as he laid in your bed, in your arms once again, and you let him. He found peace in you, your touch, your voice, your friendship. You never asked him for more and it soothed him. For once, someone was on his side and didn't expect something from him aside from himself. He had told everyone he was following the lead of a case in New York, a few had offered to go with him and he refused. The only lead that he was following was the case of how much he missed you.
You were his solace. He came to you for counsel, for comfort, for laughter, for fun, for love. In return, he made sure you never felt anything other than loved, appreciated, and satisfied. Even with the distance, he still went the extra mile. Dick Grayson wasn't a bad lover, but for you, he gave himself fully. You guys still hadn't placed a label. You were just friends. You understood that you had responsibilities that needed your full attention so a relationship would complicate everything. You loved New York, he loved Bludhaven and Gotham. It was final. Until it wasn't.
Dick had barely gotten any sleep last night. Patrol ran even longer last night and he only got one hour of sleep before his alarm rang. He had gotten a headache halfway through his shift and decided to go to Brandy's and get some coffee. You hadn't answered his text yet, which was odd. Sure, you both didn't talk on the phone every day but you always texted. Maybe you were caught up with a few clients. He knew there was one that was making your job three times more difficult than it should be. As he was waiting for his order, he heard the beautiful and unmistakable sound of your voice.
"Dick?"
He turned around and there you were, standing with a suitcase and a shy smile. He swore his headache left the moment he laid eyes on you.
"Sweetheart? What? How?" he asked laughing and pulling you into a big hug. They called his order and he picked up, telling you to order something and he'd pay. Once you got your order, he pulled you into one of the booths.
"I wanted to surprise you" You answered with the sweetest smile, he swore his heart melted.
"You should have given me a heads up, gorgeous, I would have made time for you and cleaned my apartment. I could have given you a proper welcome to Bludhaven" He laughed and took one of her hands in his. He sensed she had something else to tell him.
"It's alright. I have some exciting news though," she bit her lip nervously, "I was offered an amazing position here in Bludhaven. It pays double what I earn now and I would have a higher position. I'm here to have a meeting with the executives, check out the offices, and go through my contract. Isn't that great?" she told him and he swore he heard angels sing. Y/n. His Y/n! She was going to be in Bludhaven! He wanted to cry, scream, anything to liberate the joy he felt. If she was here, then they could be together.
"That is amazing news, gorgeous! This..this..this is wow..I think whoever is up there finally started to listen to me" he joked making her laugh. He squeezed her hand adoringly. Y/n was going to be in Bludhaven and he felt utterly giddy.
Three months later…
BANG BANG BANG To be honest, Kory was tired and at this point, it was getting humiliating. Last night, she had been passing through the living room in the tower and overheard some of the members talking about a supposed bet. When she asked them what it was about they all quieted down and looked at each other nervously. Putting a stern face, she asked the team about the bet once again fearing that they had gotten into trouble. Finally, Gar spoke up and explained. Together with the Young Justice and the Outlaws, the youngest members had decided to start a bet on who would Dick choose for this year's Christmas Annual Wayne Ball. Would he go with Barbara or Kory? Hearing this was a breaking point for Kory. She meta-tubed straight to Batcave in search of Dick. Having not found him, she looked for Barbara and questioned if he was with her. Kory informed the present members of the family of the bet and heard a sheepish confirmation from Tim and Damian. Agitated, Barbara decided to accompany Kory to Bludhaven and obligate Dick to answer finally.
That led us to our current predicament, where both women stood knocking on his apartment door harshly. As they went to knock again, someone finally answered…and it was not Dick.
"Um, hi? May I help you?" a young beautiful woman in an elegant short black dress greeted them. Barbara and Kory looked stunned, not knowing what to say.
"Oh! Sorry, I think we got the wrong apart-"
"Babe, who was it at the door?" Lo and behold, Dick Grayson appeared exiting one of the rooms all dressed in black. Once, Y/n stepped back, he stopped walking and froze.
"Barbara? Kory? What are you both doing here?" He asked slowly. Something clicked in Y/n's face and the two girls realized that she finally knew who they were. Sensing the awkwardness, Y/n excused herself.
"I'm gonna go finish getting ready, okay? You're good here?" She asked touching his arm and squeezing it reassuringly. He kissed her temple and soon she disappeared through one of the doors.
"You can come in…" he said letting Kory and Barbara step through the door. His apartment looked different, they noted. It was renovated and more stylish. It didn't take a genius to know who was responsible for the sudden refinement in his "bachelor" pad.
"Who is she?" asked Kory, straight to the point. Dick sighed. Sooner or later, he would have had to reveal and introduce Y/n to his family and friends. He just wished it would have been later and by his terms.
"She is my girlfriend"
"For how long?" Barbara asked this time
"Three months"
"So it is still fresh and new?" Barbara observed. Dick had had girlfriends between the moments he had been with Kory or her, but they were never serious. They usually lasted up to five months or so and would usually grow incredibly jealous of one of the two.
"Not really" He answered tightly.
"What's that supposed to mean?" She narrowed her eyes at him.
"We have been kind of something for almost a year now. We just made it official three months ago." He answered resigned. They were not going to let this go.
"A year? How- Whe- What?" Kory and Barbara exchanged puzzled looks. "And you were able to just hide it from the entirety of your social circle? How?" Kory asked
"Does Bruce know?" Asked Barbara
"No…I...was hoping to introduce her to everyone sometime before the Ball" He said, scratching his head. "She is going to be my date after all."
Barbara took a deep breath, analyzing the situation. Kory just looked at him perplexed, expecting more to come out of his mouth. Barbara narrowed her eyes at him. "Explain."
And so he did. He was as brief as he could be. Not wanting to get into too much detail. By the time he was done, Y/n excited the room. Makeup, hair, and heels done. Kory stared at you as Barbara interrogated Dick. You gave her a bright smile and extended your hand.
"Y/n L/n. A pleasure to meet you" Kory shook your hand and gave you her full name. Then you turned towards Barbara. You extend your hand and greet her as well.
"As lovely as this is, Dick we have to get going. If we get there late, I am never hearing the end of it from Charlotte." She laughed. Dick stood up quickly and went to look for his keys and wallet. She turned towards them, "Maybe you could come by tomorrow? We have to get to the engagement dinner of a friend of mine and I would love it if we weren't late." She said with a soft smile.
Neither Kory nor Barbara could sense any sort of malice behind her words. Barbara assessed her. She seemed relaxed, posture straight, and at ease. Unlike many of his ex-girlfriends, she didn't look intimidated by them at all. Dick excited their room as Barbara and Kory were about to exit. Y/n turned to look at him and he came closer. He wrapped his hands around her waist and she wrapped hers around his neck.
"You have a lot of explaining to do with your family tomorrow" she warned him with a laugh.
"Yeah, yeah, can't wait" He responded sarcastically and rolled his eyes. Kissing her on her shoulder he turned towards Barbara and Kory who were still observing him.
"Babs, we'll talk about this tomorrow. I'll go to the manor and we can meet at the cave. Kory, I'll call you later, okay?" He promised. Both women nodded and left.
"I guess my sweet secret won't be such a secret anymore" he groaned and the girl pecked his cheek gently.
"It was gonna happen sooner or later, gorgeous. Plus, I'm kinda excited. I want to meet your family." She said softly. He looked at her and smiled. As long as she was here, He would be fine. He just hoped they wouldn't scare her away.
"Come on baby, we don't want Charlotte to tease you about how ever since you got a boyfriend, you never get early to things" Hearing her groan made him laugh.
---
Author's Note: This took longer that I though but idgaf, this is literally so self indulgent that I love it. I kinda wanna write a part two of the family meeting reader but idk. If its requested then I probably might. What do you guys think?
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lizardboiii · 7 months ago
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Tongue Tied┃One Piece
[Protective!Dracule Mihawk x Poneglyph Speaking!Reader]
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│Summary: Washed up on a gloomy shore, your only solace is a dark an empty castle. Yet, when the castle's only resident finally returns, you are met with an undeniable problem. The language you speak is completely dead to his world.
"Flailing your hands around isn't going to make me understand you any more."
"𝙵𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎, 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚗𝚘 𝚌𝚕𝚞𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐!"
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・❥・
│cw: 18+, SFW, violent undertones, f!reader, mihawk's eyes, terrible nicknames
│wc: 1.8k
│chapters: I II III
│notes: poneglyph writing/speaking in different font. normal font is any other language as written. enjoy <3
・❥・
│Chapter I: Bird of Prey
Squawking.
Soft and high pitch, the incessant cries of seagulls flooded your ears like a symphony. You groaned audibly at the noise. An action you almost instantly regretted as a sudden rush of frigid sea water seeped into your cracked mouth. 
Hacking up a storm, you were quick to come to your, mostly delirious, senses. You laid sprawled out on a strange gloomy shore. The water, almost too calm for your liking, combined with an eerie fog rolling in from the seemingly endless coastline, felt as if you entered purgatory. 
Stumbling to your soaked feet, you tested your balance. Though your legs wavered slightly, you managed to pull yourself from the water’s surprisingly strong tide. You felt like you might be sucked back out to sea. 
Swallowing nervously, you grimaced at the bitter taste of salt still lathered on your tongue. It was a sickly reminder of your current predicament. You were completely stranded, alone. Clenching your eyes shut, you replayed the moments before the disaster. 
Your rickety fishing boat swayed innocently on the open water, unaware of the massive storm brewing overhead. You had no time to prepare, no time to act, no time to ensure any self-preservation. In the blink of an eye, the sky blackened.
The small white capping waves surrounding you abruptly grew in size and violence. Your small boat stood no chance. The futile struggle to stay right side up only lasted moments. With one final wave, your boat capsized from the continuous abuse.  
Shrieking, your body was thrown into the raging sea like a rag doll. You struggled hard against the current, only managing to break the water’s surface every couple of seconds. 
Eventually, your arms grew too tired, too weak, too heavy. It became more of a struggle to convince yourself to stay afloat than to fight the waves dragging you beneath their depths. Then, the world went dark.
Taking a deep breath, you willed away any more dreadful thoughts. The sooner you could find another spare ship the quicker you could go back home.
Scanning your surroundings, you searched for any ships, abandoned or not. Immediately your eyes caught a shocking scene. Nestled far beyond the shore, a massive crumbling castle towered over the island. You couldn't help but remark how fitting it was.
The discovery did little to encourage you. An abandoned castle meant no life, and no life meant no ships. You threaded your fingers through your hair. How could this get any worse?
The sound of thunder mocked your internal monologue. Groaning loudly, you began your venture towards the lonesome castle in an attempt to escape the rapidly forming storm. 
You managed to reach the half point mark before your skin began to crawl. You couldn't help but feel like something, or someone, was watching you through the underbrush. Though you tried to chalk it up to paranoia, you swore you saw something red glowing within the trees. It was just your luck to be marooned on a haunted island.
Whether it was divine intervention or simply uninterest, you managed to reach the chipped steps of the castle unscathed. Although that didn't stop you from hightailing it inside. 
A closer look inside the fortress told you just how regal it once appeared to be: large stained glass windows, tall decorative pillars, and corridors that seemed to stretch for miles. You were in awe from the moment you entered.
In due time, you found your way to an equally extravagant dining room. The wood of the table was scratched and weathered, but ultimately well taken care of. However, the real centerpiece of the room was a massive chair befitting the end.
The plush seat was adorned with gold trim and a deep red leather. You wondered if someone had lugged it in there from the throne room. Swiping a finger across the armrest, you rubbed your fingers together. A thick layer of dust slowly floated to the ground.
You hummed more so to yourself, “𝙼𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚒𝚜 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚍.”
Spinning on your heel, you shamelessly plopped yourself down on the gaudy throne. It wouldn't hurt to live in a palace. For a short while at least. You could stay there until you were able to either build another boat or be lucky enough to be rescued.
You smiled, “𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚑𝚞𝚛𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚊 𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚎𝚗.”
・❥・
After a month of trial and error, it seemed like you greatly overestimated your raft crafting capabilities. The trees on the island were far too thick for you to cut down with no ax, and any driftwood washed up on the beach seemed to crumble from even the gentlest touch.
You were starting to wonder if you’d be trapped there forever. 
That was until you ventured out on your daily search for partly salvageable driftwood. Aloft the gentle waves was an all too strange… ship? Raft? Casket? To be honest, you weren’t exactly sure what it was.
There was only thing you knew for sure, the small vessel was currently barreling towards your remote island. You could barely contain your excitement. 
You were going home.
Dropping the withered planks in your hands, you allowed them to shatter against the plush sand before bolting to get closer with the ship. Your eyes remained locked in on the crossed shaped mast that grew ever closer. Its black sails signaling “Freedom”.
Your tunnel vision made you stumble and trip over your own feet as you ran. And when you weren't running - you were crawling. Your hands desperately clawed at the damp sand in order to lift yourself back to your feet. You could not bear to lose your fleeting chance of leaving your island prison.
Eventually, the gothic ship docked. Its black sails were slowly being pulled into bundles when you finally managed to reach it. And reach it you did. 
You met the ship with little discretion. Squabbling and frantic, you made no effort to contain your emotions in front of the ship’s presumed Captain. Manners could wait until your safety was secured.
Thrusting your hands in the air, you made your presence widely known, “𝙴𝚡𝚌𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚖𝚎!”
The man before you hesitated slightly before releasing his hold on the black stained linen. Turning his obscured face, you noted the lackluster expression he wore. He seemed neither surprised nor unsurprised, merely…inconvenienced.  
“𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚗𝚘 𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚊 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚢 𝙸 𝚊𝚖 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞,” you laughed awkwardly, “𝙸 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗, 𝙼𝚢 𝙶𝚘𝚍, 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝙸 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎? 𝙰 𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚑 𝚋𝚢 𝚗𝚘𝚠!”
The man greeted your pitiful tangent with a stagnant silence. If you hadn't noticed his previous disinterest, you definitely noticed it now. Taking a deep breath, you internally assessed your newly appointed “savior”.
He stood tall, extremely so. He was taller than any man you knew on your home island. You assumed you'd only reach his chest if you stood side by side. However, he certainly did not lack in the muscle department either. He was broad, thick even. You wondered if his shoulders were as firm as they looked.
Gradually, your eyes wandered to an elegantly crafted coat. The dark red of his sleeves were a stark contrast against his unnaturally pale skin which, unsurprisingly, he left on full display. Not that you minded of course.
However, the most striking attribute he bore was his eyes. They shone brighter than any golden jewel found on the Grand Line, rivaling the sun itself. You certain even Helios swooned over his canary colored irises.
Entranced, you allowed yourself to be captivated. The thick black rims surrounding his pupils produced an almost stained glass appearance. All you wanted to do was consume more, read into them like a devout worshiper. It was as if they bore scripture.
You unconsciously shifted forward, trying to get a closer look. That was your first mistake. Abruptly, those very eyes sharpened with hostility, sizing you up like a hawk. It seemed your sudden movement labeled you a threat.
“Who are…”
The temperature felt as if it plummeted. Icy and thick, you didn't need hands around your neck to feel like you were being strangled. You couldn't understand why this was happening, mainly because…
“You?”
You had no idea what he was saying. 
Hands trembling, you stared at the man above you in confusion. You were sure if you did not respond he could, and would, take action. Maybe if you weren't quick enough in answering he’d kidnap you and sell you off for some pocket change. Or worse, he would kill you for just causing him trouble.
You racked your brain for any semblance of a response. What could you have even done to warrant such an intense reaction?
“…𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝,” You swallowed hard, “𝚄𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍?”
The tense atmosphere gave way slightly, releasing its invisible hold on your throat. 
Sighing quietly, the ravenette grumbled to himself, “It seems we don’t speak the same language. How inconvenient.”
Annoyed, the taller man searched your person with his honey laced eyes. Satisfied with his findings, he returned his attention back to his vessel. You pondered if your lack of weapons made you into a problem that could be “dealt with later”.
However, you didn't want to be tossed aside until later. You wanted to return home. And if that meant attempting communication with a hostile vampiric asshole, you'd have to try!
“𝚄𝚖,” You scrambled to the other side of the man's ship in an attempt to regain his attention.
“𝚂𝚒𝚛, 𝚠𝚊𝚒𝚝!”
Goldy, newly nicknamed, paid you no mind, favoring to strap down his ship without haste. You chewed on the inside of your cheek in frustration.
Shuffling beside him, you implemented drastic measures. However, your hand only managed to move a centimeter towards Goldy’s arm before your wrist was swiftly snatched in a painful grip.
Not wasting a moment of Goldy’s notice, you began frantically pointing at yourself with your free hand, “𝙸!”
You motioned at the ship, “𝙽𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚘𝚊𝚝!”
Goldy released his iron grip and stood to his full height, “Stop being troublesome.”
“𝙻𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚗𝚘 𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚊 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝙸 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚘𝚊𝚝. 𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗’𝚝 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎!”
The ravenette merely continued to stare at you disinterested. Perhaps he was debating if cutting you down now would be easier than listening to nonsensical ramblings.
Nevertheless, you waved your hands down your body, “𝙼𝚎!” 
You gestured at his ship, “𝙱𝚘𝚊𝚝!”
You clasped your hands together, “𝙿𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎!”
"Flailing your hands around isn't going to make me understand you any more."
"𝙵𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎, 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚗𝚘 𝚌𝚕𝚞𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐!"
Goldy easily ignored your pestering and walked around you, “I don’t have time for this.”
“𝚆𝚊𝚒𝚝!” You ran after his form, “𝙱𝚘𝚊𝚝! 𝙱𝚘𝚊𝚝! 𝙱𝚘𝚊𝚝!”
You followed Goldy with continued pleas. Yet, his long legs persisted across the desolate beach to the hidden pathway located in the tree line.
Your brows furrowed at the observation. It took you a week to find the secret trail that led from the beach straight to the castle. How could he have found it so easily?
You finally fell silent as Goldy traversed the path like the back of his hand. He walked confidently. It was as if he had been on the island before.
A sudden thought crossed your mind. 
Goldy lived here.
・❥・
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its-avalon-08 · 8 months ago
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so seb and y/n broke up after 2011, super messy break up, alot of tears, and they have never spoken after that. she switched jobs into mercedes. he has a panic attack and is gasping for breath and keeps asking for y/n. y/n comes running and seb breaks down sobbing. note the date is the same as the day they broke up. he confesses that he messed up and is so sorry. Thanks! love ur blog <333333333333333333
🍂🍂🍂🍂 one of my fav 🍂🍂🍂🍂
breathe baby breathe (sv5)
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The air in the Red Bull garage hung heavy. The tension wasn't new - ever since 2010, ever since the spectacularly messy break-up that left a trail of shattered trophies and tear-stained pit walls, Seb and Y/N existed in an uneasy parallel universe within the F1 circus. He, a stoic German with haunted blue eyes, remained with Red Bull. She, a steely Brit with a heart encased in ice, had taken a high-profile switch to Mercedes.
Qualifying had been a disaster for Seb. A gearbox issue had left him stranded on track, his championship dreams spiraling down like a flaming meteor. Now, back in the garage, a cold sweat slicked his palms. His vision swam, the faces of mechanics blurring into an incomprehensible mess. His chest tightened, a cold vice squeezing the air from his lungs. He tried to take a breath, but it came out in a ragged gasp.
Panic clawed its way up his throat. This wasn't right. This wasn't just disappointment. His heart hammered a frantic tattoo against his ribs, each beat a deafening boom in his head. The air, thick with the smell of burnt rubber and ozone, offered no solace. He fumbled for his water bottle, the plastic slick with sweat in his trembling hand.
The world seemed to tilt on its axis. He stumbled back, his vision going dark at the edges. A primal fear, a terror he hadn't felt since he was a child lost in the supermarket, seized him. A strangled cry escaped his lips – not a word, just a raw sound of terror.
Mark Webber, ever the teammate, noticed Seb's distress first. "Seb! You alright?" The concern in Mark's voice barely penetrated the fog of panic muddling Seb's thoughts. He needed Y/N. It was a nonsensical thought, a desperate plea from a drowning man clutching at a straw. But it was the only lifeline he could grasp.
"Y/N," he rasped, his voice a pathetic croak. Mark's eyebrows shot up in surprise. The name had never passed Seb's lips in all these years. But right now, reason had abandoned him.
Mark didn't hesitate. He knew the history, the bitter fallout, but in this moment, all he saw was a teammate in distress. "Y/N!" he bellowed, his voice cracking through the tense silence of the garage.
Y/N was huddled in the Mercedes garage, dissecting the telemetry data from Lewis's qualifying run. The news of Seb's car trouble had filtered through, a bittersweet pang twisting in her gut. She'd long buried the ghost of their relationship, or so she thought.
Mark's urgent yell shattered her focus. "Y/N!" It echoed through the corridor, laced with a raw panic that sent a jolt through her. Memories, both bitter and sweet, flooded her mind. Ignoring the bewildered stares of her colleagues, she surged towards Red Bull's garage, a primal fear urging her forward.
The sight that greeted her ripped the carefully constructed wall around her heart clean open. Seb, usually the epitome of stoicism, was a crumpled mess on the floor. His face, drained of color, was contorted in fear, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. His normally steely blue eyes were wide and frantic, searching for something, someone.
The past dissolved. This wasn't about their break-up, not anymore. This was about a human being in distress. Ignoring the initial shock, she dropped to her knees beside him, her professional training kicking in. "Seb, hey, focus on me," she said, her voice firm but gentle. He didn't respond, his gaze flitting around the room like a trapped animal.
Panic threatened to engulf her again, but she forced it down. Taking a deep breath, she mirrored it, holding his hand and speaking slowly, deliberately. "breathe baby breathe for me Seb. In with me, slow and steady." He flinched at the touch of her hand, a flicker of recognition crossing his face, then quickly masked by raw fear.
He tried, or rather, his body tried. His breaths came in shallow gasps, each one a struggle. Seeing his plight, she knelt closer, gently pushing a stray strand of hair off his damp forehead. It was a simple gesture, born of instinct, and it seemed to anchor him.
"That's it," she murmured, her voice a soothing balm. "Slow breaths. You're alright, Seb. You're with me." As the words left her lips, a strangled sob ripped through him, shaking his entire frame. Tears welled in his eyes, threatening to spill, but he squeezed his eyes shut, a desperate attempt to hold them back.
Y/N's heart ached. The sight of his vulnerability shattered the years of built-up resentment. Without a thought, she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace. His trembling body crumpled against hers, the final dam breaking. Sob after wracking sob escaped his lips, raw and unfiltered.
He didn't care if she saw. In that moment, all he needed was a human anchor, a safe harbor in the storm of his panic. And for the first time in years, Y/N felt the familiar pull of protectiveness surge through her. The past was still there, a shadow lurking at the edges, but right now, all that mattered was calming the storm raging within him.
The tremors in Seb's body gradually subsided, his sobs muffled against her shoulder. His grip on her arms tightened, a silent plea for comfort. Y/N held him close, stroking his hair with a gentleness that surprised even her. The scent of his familiar racing cologne, a mix of leather and adrenaline, flooded her senses, a potent reminder of a past she couldn't fully outrun.
"Y/N," he finally rasped, his voice hoarse. Shame laced each word, a stark contrast to the bravado he usually wore. "I miss you. So damn much." The words hung heavy in the air, a confession ripped bare by his vulnerability.
A lump formed in Y/N's throat. Part of her wanted to pull away, to retreat back into the icy fortress she'd built around her heart. But the raw pain in his voice, the vulnerability etched on his face, held her captive.
"You messed up, Seb," she said, her voice barely a whisper. It wasn't a question, but a simple statement, a truth they both acknowledged.
He flinched, a choked sob escaping his lips. "I know. I know, and I regret it every damn day. Even my parents yell about it. They keep saying I threw away the best thing that ever happened to me." His voice cracked, raw with self-loathing.
Y/N's breath hitched. She knew his parents adored her, a stark contrast to the strained relationship he had with his father at the time. The revelation stung, a reminder of what they'd lost.
A hesitant breath escaped her lips. "Seb," she started, unsure how to proceed.
He cut her off, a tremor running through his voice. "And the worst part? Even after all this time... I still love you, Y/N. Madly." He confessed the words in a rush, as if afraid to hold them back any longer.
Silence descended upon them, thick and heavy with unspoken emotions. Then, a soft, surprised sound escaped Y/N's lips.
"You still...?" She couldn't finish the question, the weight of his confession settling on her chest.
He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching hers, a desperate plea for a flicker of reciprocation. "Every damn day," he whispered. "Even now, on our monthaversaries, I still go get your favorite pad thai."
The admission, a small, vulnerable detail from a past they both cherished, cracked the ice around Y/N's heart.
A wry smile tugged at the corner of Y/N's lips, a flicker of disbelief coloring her voice. "Pad thai, huh? You never did learn to like that."
Seb chuckled, a wet, shaky sound. "No, I never did. But seeing you devour it with that look of pure joy... it was worth every forced bite." His gaze softened, lingering on her face for a beat too long.
The weight of his words, laced with a longing that mirrored her own, threatened to unravel the careful control she'd maintained. Taking a deep breath, she confessed, "You know, I used to stalk your social media, Seb. Every model the tabloids linked you with, I'd dissect their pictures online, a jealous wreck." Shame burned in her cheeks as she admitted the truth.
His eyes widened in surprise. "You... you did?"
"Don't judge," she countered, a hint of defiance lacing her voice. "We both have things we regret."
He shook his head, his expression softening. "Never. You were the best thing that ever happened to me, even if I was a colossal idiot back then."
Y/N couldn't help but let out a small laugh, the sound surprisingly warm. "Maybe a little," she conceded. "But even after switching teams, a part of me still wants you to win every race, Seb. It's a terrible conflict of interest, I know."
He squeezed her hand, a flicker of hope lighting up his eyes. "Really?"
"Don't get cocky," she teased, a playful glint returning to her eyes. "But seeing you on that podium, the pure joy on your face... it's hard to explain."
A comfortable silence settled between them, a stark contrast to the storm that had raged just moments before. Then, a mischievous thought struck Y/N.
"Speaking of confessions," she began, a sly smile playing on her lips. "Remember those chocolate chip cookies Mark always seems to have a stash of during race weekends?"
Seb's eyebrows shot up, a flicker of recognition dawning on his face. "Wait, you...?"
"Guilty as charged," she admitted with a sheepish grin. "I figured you still loved them, even after all these years."
Seb's lips curved into a genuine smile, the first one she'd seen in far too long. "You have no idea," he confessed, his voice thick with emotion. "They were... a ray of sunshine on some pretty dark days."
Their eyes met, a spark of something new igniting in the space between them. The past, with all its baggage, still loomed, but for the first time, they weren't facing it alone.
two days later
Two days had passed since their tearful encounter in the Red Bull garage. The air crackled with unspoken emotions, a constant undercurrent in the sterile environment of the Formula One paddock. Y/N sat hunched over her laptop in the Mercedes motorhome, the glow of the screen illuminating the dark circles under her eyes. Sleep had been a distant dream, replaced by the whirring of her mind replaying every stolen glance, every hesitant touch with Seb.
A soft knock startled her from her thoughts. Wiping the fatigue from her eyes, she called out, "Come in."
The door creaked open, revealing a sheepish Seb holding a familiar white paper bag. His hair was slightly disheveled, and there was a nervous twitch at the corner of his mouth.
"Hey," he mumbled, stepping inside hesitantly.
"Seb? What are you doing here?" Y/N asked, her voice laced with surprise.
He held up the bag, a small, hopeful smile playing on his lips. "Pad thai. Your favorite. I, uh, thought maybe you could use a break from all that data?"
A wave of warmth washed over Y/N. "You remembered," she whispered, her gaze dropping to the bag.
"How could I forget?" he replied, his voice softer than she'd heard in years. "It's become more than just a dish, Y/N. It's a reminder of everything we were, everything I messed up."
He took a tentative step closer, his eyes searching hers. The vulnerability in his gaze tugged at her heartstrings.
"Look," he continued, his voice thick with emotion, "I know this is crazy, showing up here unannounced after everything. But I can't stay silent anymore. These past few days have been torture. The thought of you... of losing you again..." He trailed off, his voice choked with emotion.
"Seb," Y/N started, her own voice trembling.
He held up a hand, silencing her. "No, let me finish. These past years have been a living hell without you. Every race win felt hollow, every victory parade a painful reminder of what I'd thrown away. My parents were right, you know. You were the best thing that ever happened to me."
He took another step closer, the air crackling with unspoken emotions between them. "Y/N," he said, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, "I love you. I never stopped. And if there's even a sliver of a chance, I want you back. I want to rebuild what we had, stronger this time."
Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes, blurring his image. She couldn't take his beautiful monologue any longer. With a strangled cry, she launched herself at him, her arms wrapping around his neck. The pad thai forgotten, they fell into a desperate embrace.
"Seb," she sobbed, burying her face in his chest. "I love you, I love you, I love you," the words tumbling out in a breathless rush.
He held her tighter, the sound of her choked sobs a balm to his tortured soul. "Never letting you go again," he murmured against her hair, his voice thick with a promise they both desperately wanted to keep.
In the heart of the bustling Formula One paddock, amidst the roar of engines and the relentless pursuit of victory, they found solace in each other's arms. The road ahead wouldn't be easy, but for the first time in years, they weren't facing it alone. They had each other, a second chance at a love that had weathered the storm and emerged stronger, more resilient than ever before.
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dewdropdinosaur · 9 months ago
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Fixer Upper
ALASTOR x (F)READER Summary: Someone dared to break Alastor's precious radio and his wrath is inconsolable. But turns out you may have some small tricks up your sleeve. Warnings: NONE For the dearest @anon-of-the-void. My darling, it is a pleasure as always to write these for you.
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In the bustling chaos of the Hazbin Hotel, where demons sought redemption amidst the fiery chaos of Hell, an unlikely friendship blossomed. Alastor, the infamous Radio Demon, found solace in the presence of Y/N, an inventive soul from the Victorian Era who had found herself amidst the peculiar denizens of the underworld.
Y/N was a tinkerer, always tinkering away in her workshop, concocting gadgets and gizmos that would make even the most adept engineers marvel. Alastor, with his vintage charm and macabre wit, found her creations fascinating, and the two formed an unusual bond over their shared love for innovation.
One fateful day, disaster struck when Alastor's beloved old-time radio, his prized possession from his living days, broke down. The demon was devastated, his usual jovial demeanor clouded by a rare display of anger. The residents of the hotel trembled in fear, knowing the havoc that could be unleashed if the Radio Demon's rage remained unchecked.
Alastor's crimson eyes blazed with fury as he prowled the halls of the Hazbin Hotel, his usual jovial smile replaced by a menacing snarl. The residents cowered in fear, whispering among themselves as they caught glimpses of the Radio Demon's wrathful form.
"You there!" Alastor's voice boomed, sending shivers down the spines of those unfortunate enough to cross his path. "Do you have any idea of the inconvenience of my beloved radio breaking? The nerve, the audacity!"
Niffty, the hyperactive cleaner demon, spoke with a frantic passion as she viewed the mangled radio."Alastor! I'll do it! Let me clean it please!"
Alastor's laughter rang out like a chilling melody, sending a chill through the air. "Oh, my dear Nifty, no thank you. This requires some…interrogation but feel free to clean up the aftermath."
Angel Dust, lounging lazily on a nearby couch, scoffed, "Oh, lighten up, Al, it's just a stupid radio. Besides, it's not like anyone listens to your old-timey tunes anyway."
The room fell silent as Alastor's gaze bore into Angel Dust, his smile twisting into a sinister grin. "Is that so, my dear Angel? Perhaps I should demonstrate the consequences of underestimating the power of music."
With a snap of his fingers, Alastor summoned a spectral microphone, its ethereal glow casting eerie shadows across the room. "Now, let's see who's laughing when I unleash the full force of my wrath upon this wretched offender!"
The residents of the Hazbin Hotel trembled as Alastor's menacing laughter echoed through the halls, knowing all too well that when the Radio Demon was in a foul mood, no one was safe from his terrifying fury.
As fear spread throughout the hotel, Y/N knew she had to act swiftly to quell the storm brewing within Alastor's heart. Ignoring the warnings of her peers, she clandestinely snatched the broken radio and retreated to her workshop, determined to restore it to its former glory.Under the cover of night, she stealthily crept into Alastor's room, her pockets filled with tools and determination. With deft hands, she dismantled the broken radio, each cog and wire familiar to her skilled touch.
Hour after hour, Y/N toiled away, her nimble fingers dancing across the delicate machinery. With each adjustment and tweak, the radio gradually came back to life, its familiar crackle filling the air once more. But as the night wore on,  fatigue gnawed at Y/N's bones, her eyelids growing heavy with exhaustion. But she pressed on, fueled by determination and a desire to see her friend smile once more.
Finally, with a soft click, the radio sprang to life, emitting a crackling sound before filling the room with the familiar strains of vintage jazz. Y/N let out a sigh of relief, a triumphant smile gracing her lips as she admired her handiwork.
But as she stood there basking in her success, fatigue finally caught up with her. With a yawn, she sank into a nearby chair, her eyes fluttering closed as sleep claimed her.
Unbeknownst to her, Alastor had been silently watching from the shadows, his expression unreadable as he observed Y/N's tireless efforts to fix his broken radio. When he saw her succumb to exhaustion, a pang of concern tugged at his heart, softening the edges of his usually stoic demeanor.
Quietly, he approached her slumbering form, his footsteps barely audible against the creaking floorboards. Gently, he brushed a stray lock of hair from her face, his touch light as a feather.
"My dear Y/N," he whispered, his voice barely above a murmur. "Such devotion, such selflessness. You truly are a marvel."
A warmth blossomed in Alastor's chest as he watched her sleep, a feeling he couldn't quite put into words. For the first time in centuries, he felt something akin to tenderness stirring within him—a feeling he realized with a start was nothing short of admiration.
With a soft sigh, Alastor leaned in closer, pressing a gentle kiss to Y/N's forehead before picking up her form and striding over to his bed; tucking her in with the utmost care. As he stood there in the dimly lit room, surrounded by the quiet hum of the fixed radio and the soft breathing of his friend, he knew at that moment that he was irrevocably touched by her kindness.
And as the first light of dawn painted the sky, Alastor silently vowed to cherish and protect Y/N, for she had not only fixed his broken radio but had also managed to mend something far more precious—his wounded heart.
The next morning dawned upon the Hazbin Hotel, the air tinged with a sense of relief as the residents basked in the knowledge that Alastor's beloved radio had been fixed. Alastor strode into the lobby with a confident swagger, his usual grin plastered on his face. With a flick of his wrist, he turned on the radio, the familiar crackle of static filling the air before giving way to the melodic strains of love songs from a bygone era.
The residents exchanged puzzled glances, their confusion evident as they listened to the unexpected playlist. Angel Dust raised an eyebrow, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips. "Well, well, looks like someone's feeling a bit sentimental today."
Alastor's grin widened, though there was a hint of something softer lurking beneath the surface. "Ah, my dear Angel, music has a way of stirring the soul, don't you think?"
As the love songs continued to play, the other residents couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth wash over them. Even the gruffest demons found themselves tapping their claws to the beat, caught up in the unexpected romance of it all.
But as Alastor's gaze lingered on Y/N, who stood among the crowd with a shy smile, a wave of realization washed over him. It wasn't just any love songs he was playing—it was a silent declaration of his growing affection for the inventive soul who had captured his heart.
And as the music filled the room with its sweet melody, Alastor couldn't help but feel a surge of hope coursing through him. Perhaps, in the midst of Hell's chaos, there was still room for love to blossom—a love that transcended time and defied all odds.
With a soft chuckle, Alastor stole a glance at Y/N, his heart swelling with newfound courage. For in that moment, amidst the gentle strains of love songs and the soft glow of morning light, he knew that he was falling—falling head over heels for the one who had fixed not only his broken radio but also the shattered pieces of his soul.
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kazucee · 2 days ago
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TO CAUSE A SCENE !
PAIRINGS: gn! Reader x Mr Reca (from the hit game HSR!) Modern AU where Reca is a hotshot director and reader is a rising super star.
SYNOPSIS: Not so secret dating AU (they become public in the end) + tooth rotting fluff + SMAU (if you squint, like heavily squint. No there's only one so you can't even consider it as so but hey it's there TT) + not proofread (apologies for the mistakes) WC: 1.6k
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BREAKING NEWS: Famous play director Mr. Reca caught in arms with his latest acquisition?
JUST IN: Who is this Mystery Person? Hearsays and gossip are bubbling to the surface as the newest photos of award winning Mr. Reca and his newest prize leaked online.
RUMORED TO BE: The Famous rising star—?!
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“This is madness.” Your agent mutters for the nth time in a row clearly panicking. It was quite comical to see him pacing back and forth looking like he's about to have a heart attack right then and there.
What was even more comical was the fact that across from his frantic state was you, hands properly poised on your lap, an easy smile drawn, and chin tilted upwards as the make-up artist busied themselves with your face.
“It is a misunderstanding” You replied, glancing at the multiple tabloids placed on the quaint mahogany coffee table, your voice taking a light tone as your lips curl into a smile that could be plastered on every billboard in this damned city.
“It is reckless. You both were reckless. You told me you both were going somewhere private- oh this is a disaster.” A huffed laugh escaped your lips.
“You. How are you so calm about this entire ordeal?” As the make-up artist finishes up the final touches she grins back at you to which you return. As she tidies up the different shades of rogues and eyeshadow palettes you finally turn to meet your worrywart of an agent.
“Because these are measly tabloids and those are all just rumors” a shrug as you stare at the blurry photos of you and your ‘assumed’ lover.
“The photos-”
“-Don't even look like me. Firstly whoever took it chose such an unflattering angle—” The photos were clearly taken by some amateur, it was all blurred lines and unfocused blotches of colors and the lighting was horrid. “If they were going to expose something, could they not have taken it somewhere with more light? I look—”
“Your entire career is hanging by a loose thread and you're worrying about the tabloid photos and the lighting?!” Your agent thinks back to the times where he wasn't assigned to you, the times where the most stress he's ever had was a wrong coffee order.
Sure he loves you to death but the reason for all his headaches came in a conveniently wrapped you-shaped package and now it apparently comes with a buy one take one deal.
“My career is fine. The photos are terrible. And it's precisely why we can just deny I have anything to do with this entire conundrum” You say pointing to the blurry blob that is supposed to represent ‘you’.
“just keep denying it, say it was photoshopped by some fan, you know scandals come and go quickly” But the truth is. A part of you didn't want to deny it, the small selfish part of you wanted to just confirm all the rumors and gossip by clicking on the simple heart-react to any one of the endless tabloids on social media.
“And knowing Mr. Reca he'll probably get another rumored lover in a span of a couple days—” your words tasted bitter as they left your tongue even if it came off as a joke to ease up your agents anxiety.
“Is that really what you think of me, my darling star?” A new voice joined in the fray and you jumped when you felt two arms circle easily around your waist and the smell of old parchment paper and leather surrounded your senses.
“Mr. Reca.” Your agent lets out an exhausted sigh at his presence, as if the director being here added an additional load on his shoulders. The newest load that was currently taking solace in nuzzling his face against the crook of your neck.
“Dearest?” Your voice came next—pleasantly surprised, shouldn't he be at his filming site right now?—and you can almost physically feel how the other melted against your figure, arms tightening gently and bringing you into a back hug.
“What's this about me getting a new lover in a few days?” He mumbles softly, lower lip jutting out in an exaggerated pout and you can feel it touch the thin skin of your neck making your heartbeat pick up its pace ever so slightly.
“Well…” you drawl out as you try to detach yourself from him but that only results in him squeezing you tighter against him, his face still against your neck (which was now growing hot at the constant contact)
“You aren't Penacony’s most eligible bachelor for no reason” a small jab disguised as a tease. You can't help it, the small pinch of jealousy that seeds itself in your very very patient heart.
He was a celebrity, he was stupidly handsome, stupidly charming, and that meant that he had everybody fawning and bending over backwards for him. Not that he paid attention to any of those frivolities always rudely turning the other cheek. It still didn't help the rumor mill from cooking up another theory about him dating some random celebrity figure and it didn't help that sour feeling you get whenever you read about it online.
Although It did help that you were dating the real thing, Penacony's darling director. Wrapped tightly around your fingertips.
It helped very much to know that most of his films were love letters directed at you. Directed for you. In which his films would always start off with a cursive ‘for my darling muse’—it was his signature tell and something that was known by almost everyone in Penacony.
There were endless theories that surrounded those four sudden words that appeared in his recent best selling films.
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You spent hours sifting through all the comments with a small knowing smile. You were there throughout the entire process (saved for the parts that required you to actually be seen with him) so you knew the genius that was him, how he somehow managed to turn the films into an allegory about the two of you. Delivered with flowery words, plot twists, and breathtaking cinematography.
“I'm the most eligible bachelor?” He mused with a faint smirk before pressing a soft chaste kiss at the junction of your neck and shoulder, pulling away slightly to allow your heart to return back to its normal rhythm. His carmine eyes full of mirth and arrogance at the title. You are sure he's seen those words and his name written in tandem to each other multiple times, to him it's just words written by some amateurs but hearing it from you turned them into ammunition he can use.
“The most annoying one too” a small huff leaves your lips making him let out a chuckle, the rumble of his chest felt against your back. You see your agent suppress an eyeroll, gathering the tabloids before making up some random excuse to allow the two of you some allotted alone time.
“I take it you saw the news?” His tone was lofty as if he was enthralled by the whole prospect of getting found out by the public. With his hands positioned on either side of your waist he turns you around so that he's able to scrutinize your facial expressions, holding you close to him as sways you both to an imaginary beat. The action softens your heart and you follow along with him.
A scoff. “I'd hardly call it news. Just the usual chatter amongst the tabloids” His eyes search your own sincerely as if trying to gouge out every individual thought you have conjured up in that complicated brain of yours.
“I wouldn't call it chatter if it's true.” He says with a small smug grin and your eyes roll back, both of you are smiling fondly at each other, swaying in each other's arms.
‘I wouldn't call it true if we're hiding it.’ the sentence that hung with the few pin pricks of silence.
“I'm sure it'll blow over soon” and he hums in acknowledgement at your statement, the small furrow of his brow an indication of his disapproval. He holds your hand in his bringing it up to press a kiss against your knuckles.
“I don't want it too” he mumbles against your skin, pressing another fleeting kiss. Your brow raised curiously at his words, carefully mulling it over before asking-
“You're implying-”
“We go public about it. About us.” and boy did his eyes light up at the idea, similar to a fuse sparking before escalating and eventually causing a dramatic explosion. You always have admired that look of his, a sort of crazed expression that made every fibre of your being tingle like a thousand firecrackers and soon you found himself sharing his excitement at the prospect.
He smiles, presses one last kiss against your knuckles and moves to twirl you around, a small laugh bubbles out of you as you adhere to the director's movements. You could see him grinning again before finally ending this silent waltz of his with a stolen kiss from you.
“We'll cause quite the scene” his tender lips pull away from yours with that telltale smirk.
“A scene? Why not a whole blockbuster while we're at it?”
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BREAKING NEWS: From Secret Rendezvous to Sharing Clothing? What does this entail?
JUST IN: Our Rising star spotted wearing a shirt a size big for them? A shirt that we've seen the famous director wear multiple times?!
HOT TOPIC: “it's not that we actively wanted people to know about us, we just stopped trying to hide it” — Mr. Reca [his latest interview]
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AN: HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE !! STARTING OFF STRONG WITH A RECA KISSER FIC WOOPIEE + He's been on my mind (koue can confirm) + it's actually shocking how I'm posting left and right, watch this disappear when school comes back ⚰️+ cooking up another Reca fic as we speak + HAVING A CONSISTENT WRITING STYL IS HARD GRGRGRG+ I'm still tryna figure out this writing bit (I hope this wasn't too all over the place ?) but I hope y'all enjoyed it^^ reblogs, comments and likes are much appreciated 𐙚
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moeitsu · 4 months ago
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heyyy, I absolutely love ur fics and hcs...I was wondering if u will be willing to write smth fluffy abt logan...
Like they have been good friends for awhile and both of them have been pinning for each other...but the reader thinks he still loves jean...
And they've an argument Abt smth before a mission and obv reader gets injured...but someone else saves her and he doesn't get to meet her and when she recovers she avoids him .....
Smth like thiss...plss....❤️✨
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The miscommunication trope is a tough one for me, but I hope I did alright! Thanks for being my first request!
"You're the only one for me" Logan Howlett x Reader
wc: 1k warnings: none Lots of fluff and feels at the end :)
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A jealous itch runs up your spine as you see Logan across the room, smiling at her the same way he smiles at you. Jean Grey. Everyone in the mansion knows about their history, about Logan’s long, unrequited love for her.
Despite her loyalty to Scott, Logan couldn’t help but fall for the beautiful, fiery redhead. But that was before you came along.
Logan and you have always had a deep, unspoken understanding. From the very first day you met, there was something electric between you, something unnameable but undeniably there.
A glance across the room was all it took to communicate. And yet, there was always something more, lingering beneath the surface, something neither of you were brave enough to say out loud.
Late nights under the stars became your shared solace. You’d sit side by side, talking about everything and nothing, as the night stretched on. Logan listened to every word you said like it was the most important thing in the world.
Those quiet moments, with the world asleep around you, were what he treasured most. But he never told you that.
He never told you how those talks meant more to him than any battle he’d ever won.
Logan isn’t one for grand gestures, but you noticed the small things. How his hand would linger when he handed you a cup of coffee, the way he instinctively stepped closer when the room got too crowded, or how his arm would sometimes brush against yours when you walked side by side.
These moments made your heart race, but just as you thought there might be something more, you’d catch him with Jean, and the doubts would creep in.
Oh, how he wished he had the courage to tell you how he felt. But the pain of rejection haunted him. The fear of opening his heart, only to have it shattered again, quieted him into submission.
So, he stayed silent, letting the tension build between you, even as he longed to close the gap.
But you were growing tired of the mind games. His feelings for you seemed as real as the ground beneath your feet, as the air in your lungs. He must feel the same way, you told yourself.
But then, there he was, spending time with Jean, and you couldn’t help but wonder if you had it all wrong.
The tension finally boiled over before a big mission. The argument was sharp, words cutting deeper than any blade.
“Just go back to Jean!” you snapped, frustration and hurt lacing your voice.
Logan’s eyes widened, his own frustration simmering beneath the surface. “You think I—” he started, but the words stumbled. He tried to deny it, but his voice failed him, the weight of unspoken truths holding him back.
You both stormed off, leaving the air between you crackling with unresolved tension.
The mission was a blur of chaos, and then—disaster.
You were injured, and it was serious. Logan’s heart stopped when he heard. He fought through enemies with a ferocity that terrified even his allies, desperate to reach you. But before he could get to you, someone else did, pulling you to safety.
The relief was brief, overshadowed by guilt and frustration. He should have been there. He should have protected you. As he watched you being carried away, unconscious and bleeding, he made a vow—he would never let that happen again.
When you recovered, the physical wounds healed faster than the emotional ones. You avoided Logan, convinced that his heart still belonged to someone else, that your feelings were nothing but wishful thinking.
Better to rip the band-aid off now, you thought, than suffer more heartbreak later.
Logan noticed the distance immediately. It gnawed at him, a constant ache in his chest. You had always come to him when there was trouble, when you needed a shoulder to cry on, when you just needed someone to sit with you in silence.
But now, you turned away, leaving him feeling helpless and lost.
He asked others about your condition, made sure you were okay in his own quiet way, even sat outside your room at night, listening to your breathing just to make sure you were sleeping. But the distance between you felt like an unbridgeable valley.
The tension finally became too much to bear. Logan couldn’t stand the silence any longer.
One night, he cornered you—gentle but firm, his voice low and rough. “Jean will always be a part of my past,” he said, his words heavy with truth, “but you… you’re my present, my future. I’ve been afraid of screwing this up, of losing what we have, but I can’t stay quiet anymore. You're the only one for me, and I’m not letting you slip away.”
You were stunned, tears welling up as you realized how wrong you’d been.
“I thought… I was so afraid that…” you whispered, your voice trembling.
Logan stepped closer, his rough hand brushing against your cheek. “You don’t have to be afraid anymore. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured, his voice soft but certain.
The confession hung between you, fragile but true. And then, slowly, Logan leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss that was long overdue.
It was slow, tender, filled with all the emotions you’d both kept bottled up for too long. When you finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his eyes soft and full of affection.
“You’re the only one for me,” he repeated with a whisper, his voice rough but sincere.
After that night, everything changed. The tension that had once thickened the air melted away, replaced by a quiet, comfortable closeness.
Logan became more open with his affection—small touches, lingering looks, and a new ease in your interactions. You both felt the relief of finally being on the same page, of knowing that the unspoken feelings were now shared and mutual.
Logan made sure you never doubted his feelings again. He talked more, shared more of himself, making it clear that you were the most important person in his life.
Jean was a part of his past, but you were his future, and he wasn’t going to let you forget it.
Thanks for requesting this!!
I hope I did it some justice. I love Jean Grey and I tried my best not to paint her in a bad light. But I know everyone's a sucker for a good love triangle hehe
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