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iamnotoriginalphil · 9 months ago

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The Assistant (Leonora Lesso x f!Reader)

Synopsis: Lesso is certain her assistant is working to take her down. After all, you're too good to be true.

Words: 4.6k

Warnings: violence, swearing, mentions of smut, choking

You should be scared. That was the only thought going through Lesso’s mind as she loomed over you, staring down into your wide eyes and small smile. One hand had slammed into the wall beside your head and she was leaning in, teeth bared in a snarl. You weren’t cringing away from her, looking up at her expectantly, as if she was amusing you with her antics.

“Yes, Lady Lesso?” you asked, voice light and bright, the way it always was.

She growled, pushing away from the wall. She could feel the weight of your eyes on her, the way she always could. You watched her often, assessing her, trying to read her motives. It itched, the way your gaze seemed to burrow beneath her skin, seeking out her vulnerabilities. That had to be what you were doing, searching for ways to hurt her or bring her down, to manipulate her for your own gain.

Only you remained as you always were, sitting outside her office, following her orders like the obedient little thing you wanted her to believe you were, never influencing or questioning.

“You’ve been missing from your post for too long,” she said, needing an excuse for her anger towards you.

If you knew she was on to you, she’d lose the upper hand. She wouldn’t be able to ferret out your true intentions if you buried them further in the face of her suspicion.

“My apologies, Lady Lesso. Billious was holding me up in the kitchen,” you replied, voice soft, a note of guilt darkening your words.

You were a wonderful actor, she would give you that.

“No excuses,” she snapped.

She swept away from you, leaving you leaning against the wall beside your desk. You followed her into her office, the familiar scent of vanilla following you. It would linger, she knew from experience, far longer than your presence would, and she would be forced to inhale the putrid scent for the rest of the afternoon.

You were careful as you placed the cup of coffee you’d been sent to retrieve on her desk, avoiding the stacks of paperwork she’d been ignoring. Counting the seconds you’d been gone had taken up enough mental energy to keep her occupied.

“Will that be all, Lady Lesso?” you asked.

She lowered herself to her seat, considering you on the other side of her imposing desk. You stood with your hands clasped in front of you, in one of those infuriating dresses she found herself so distracted by. Dipping necklines and flashes of your knee when you walked had her mouth turning dry and her thoughts fleeing her like a scared fairy. A small smile was curling your pink lips and your eyes were looking at her from under long lashes, sparkling in the fire light.

“Remove yourself from my presence,” she ordered.

Your chin dipped in a small nod and she watched your back as you slipped from her office. She would find your secrets, the plans you were building on the back of her work, the betrayal you would be committing. It was a perfect ruse, innocence and sunshine, hiding a deeper insidiousness she would root out. She would expose it to the light and sneer at your snivelling body, grovelling for mercy under the weight of her might.

She settled back in her chair, leaning back as she considered the door. Of course she’d hunted through your desk, picking the singular lock to discover a drawer full of sweets and notes filed away in perfect order. Nothing suspicious which only piqued her interest further.

You were smart. Of course you were. She wouldn’t have tolerated your appointment as her assistant if you weren’t. You held your own and anticipated her needs before she could ever voice them. In all ways, you were the perfect assistant. And it grated on her.

You had grown to be the bane of her existence.

Straining her ears to hear your movements on the other side of the thick wooden door, she found herself leaning forward. A curl of steam rose from the cup of coffee before her, placed there by your sure fingers, not a single drop spilled. Raising it to her lips, she had to admit you made a wonderful cup of coffee. She would miss that once she’d crushed you beneath the heel of her boot.

Your voice was muffled when it finally reached her ears. Bright and airy, your tinkling laugh made her stomach clench. Joyous laughter was wrong in her school, an aberration she aimed to squash from her halls. All attempts had failed with you, indulgence lining your expression whenever she tried.

She rose from the desk, tiptoeing to the door to listen in. Stealth was of the upmost importance, not wanting to alert you to her presence. To stay one step ahead you must be kept in the dark. Pressing her ear to the cool wood, she listened, hoping to overhear something you wouldn’t want her knowing.

“I’m hardly going to show up at the crack of dawn,” you said and she could just imagine the bright smile on your face, “I’m more of a midnight stroll kind of gal.”

“But they only bloom in the early hours of the morning,” the person you were talking to was saying, a hint of a whine in his voice.

One of the new teachers. Young and enthusiastic, built in the style of Hort with his overeagerness to prove his villainy. Villainy was not provable, it simply was. Apparent in every action you took.

Which is how she knew you must be a spy, looking to ingratiate yourself into her trust only to strike her when she least expected it.

In every sense of the word you were the complete opposite of villainous. You were bright and happy, smiling at every turn. You laughed and you hummed, your singing voice sweet. When you walked it was like you were floating with the grace you exhibited.

And worst of all, you were kind. To everyone. Including her.

“And I’m sure they’re beautiful but I’m at my worst in the morning I’m afraid,” you said.

Lesso filed that fact away for later use.

“Well, perhaps we could take that midnight stroll,” he said, turning a touch cajoling.

She could understand his desperation to secure your undivided attention on a romantic stroll. She’d noticed the way people looked at you when walking the halls, in meetings, on arrival day. People were drawn to you, most likely due to your wide smile and the pretty fluttering of your eyelashes. A less cynical person would describe you as beautiful and engaging.

She never would.

“Unfortunately Lady Lesso keeps me working all hours of the night,” you said, presumably trying to let him down nicely. She rolled her eyes. The more prudent course of action would have been to give him a dressing down until he felt so low about himself he would never bother you again.

“Is she awful to work with? I’ve always assumed she is,” he said.

Lesso held her breath, wanting to hear your answer, refusing to miss a single syllable.

“Lady Lesso is a genius. There is no one in this school who could do what she does. It’s a privilege to work so closely with her, and I’m grateful to be able to serve her. Isn’t that what all of us want? To put more villainy out into the world? To triumph over good? If anyone is going to bring about our success it will be her. I really believe that. So if I have to work long hours then it’s all worth it. I love this job. Any sacrifices are worth it.”

Your entire speech held far more passion and emotion than any other answer you’d given him, the witless man that asked you to join him in the moonlight. Too much so? She couldn’t rule it out as a performance, assuming she might be listening in on your conversation.

She wasn’t sure what happened then. A soft mumbling, footsteps, the chatter of students sweeping past. She sighed, returning to her desk to find the stack of paperwork no smaller and her coffee cooled. Her nose wrinkled as she took a sip of the lukewarm liquid. She could demand you make her a new one, but then you would not be there to keep an eye on. You’d be loose in her school and who would be able to say what you were doing then. It was bad enough when she had to teach class, her mind constantly wandering back to what you were doing, what secrets you were uncovering, what devious plots you were concocting.

A soft knock sounded on her door. Your head poked through the door, a soft smile on your face, her heart thudding in her chest just at the sight of you.

“What?” she snapped, hoping to see some flicker of displeasure in you at her rudeness.

“Billious is here to see you,” you said, your voice almost a caress over his name.

“Tell him I’m busy,” she replied, nose wrinkling.

“Of course, Lady Lesso.”

Your head retracted for a moment for it returned, looking at her with an expectation that made her want to wrong your neck.

“Oh, and the books you asked for have finally arrived. Should I bring them through or would you prefer they’re brought to your chambers?”

“You figure it out,” she snapped.

That damned smile appeared again, knowing and intuitive. She felt a flicker of fear, wondering what you had discovered. The anxiety you inspired had to be stopped.

The door was silent as it closed, the creaks she’d spent so many years curating gone under your touch. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she cursed you over and over until you might be struck down by lightning outside that very door.

A loud knock on the door had her jumping in her seat. Manley shouting through the wood. A hushed conversation on the other side. What sounded like a boot kicking the door. An admonishment. Then silence.

In less than thirty seconds you had taken command of a situation that could have so easily spun out of control. She ground her teeth, frustration sparking through her veins. You were the perfect assistant, making yourself indispensable to her, ensuring you were so enshrined in her life she couldn’t fire you. You’d wormed your way in and made it impossible to get rid of you. All by being wonderful at your job.

No one else could see your genius, but it was plain to her. You’d figured out how to function so far under the radar that no one would ever suspect you were more than the vapid woman you made yourself out to be. No one but her. She knew. And it rankled her more than she cared to admit.

You lived under her skin, every day a taunt to expose you, as if you thought she wasn’t smart enough to. It was a dare, your continued presence. You were waiting for her to break and she refused to.

It was all some sick twisted game and the only kinds of those Lesso liked were when she was the game master, not the player.

She watched you at dinner that night, your table manners impeccable, as if you’d been schooled next door. Your smile was friendly, inviting, and all she could focus on was how she wanted to ruin you. To turn you into a mess. To make you…

Well, she thought begging for mercy would sound sweet on your tongue.

If she found herself following you from the shadows as you returned to your post, flitting through moonlight drenched halls, almost dancing from window to window, then it was to watch you in your unguarded moments. You turned your face towards every window, smile soft as you looked up at the night sky. She wondered what you saw up there, if you found pictures in the stars, if the moon made you dream, if you searched for a different life.

You paused at one window, facing towards the forest, staring out. Hands flat on the window sill, you lent towards the glass until your breath misted before you. Your eyes were turned upwards and inexplicably she felt the need to sneak up behind you and trace her fingers over your exposed neck. She wanted to find your pulse, feel it thrum under her thumb, feel it race the way she never could when she tried to menace you.

“You’re not chained to your desk.”

That witless man again.

A soft sigh passed over your parted lips and your mask slipped for a moment before you fixed your smile back on your face. The truth of it had her breath catching, both frustration and pity mingling together into something almost sickly. You turned towards his approaching footsteps, stepping out of the shadows just as Lesso could do. In contrast, she shrunk back, watching and waiting.

“I thought Lesso would have you kept like a pet outside her door,” he said. Something passed over his face, too quick to see, but ugly enough to make her curious.

“She’s not a monster, you know,” you said, your voice quiet, almost soft in your assessment of her, “I think you’ve mischaracterised her into the monster under the bed.”

“Isn’t she?” he asked.

“She’s far more subtle than that. Elegant. Wickedly intelligent. You won’t even know she’s five steps ahead of you until you’re already caught in her trap. It’s beautiful, the way her villainy unfolds,” you replied.

Bare shoulders shrugged and she found herself considering the line of your body. Relaxed and at ease. It must be some kind of facade. It had to be. No one was so relaxed in her school. Not even the teachers.

“You sound smitten with her,” he said, taking another step towards you.

“I’m not some pathetic Ever,” you laughed, “I know it’s what plenty of people here think but I’m not looking for True Love’s Kiss.”

“You can tell me if she’s forcing you to say these things about her. I won’t tell,” he said, giving what he must have thought was a conspiratorial wink.

Lesso felt her nose wrinkle, watching this scene play out in front of her. The insipid man trying to win your trust and you standing with a straightened spine and the smile dying on your lips. She wasn’t sure she’d ever seen it so much as falter before.

“No on forces me to do anything I don’t want. Not even her,” you said, “especially not her.”

“What then? More pirvelleges? A place in her bed? Extra food at meal times?” he demanded.

Your smile was gone.

“Your loyalty may be so easily bought, Derrick, but I can assure you mine is not,” you said, the lightness in your voice vanishing the longer you talked. Steel was taking over. If you were anyone else she might be impressed.

“Loyalty?” he scoffed, “I think you just think you’re better than me because you’re Lesso’s little pet. You think I won’t risk my own ass by harming you. But you’re not better than me. You’re just a stuck up Ever.”

“You want to hurt me?” you asked, “go ahead. She won’t save me. And it certainly won’t make me go on that moonlit walk with you. I’m holding out for someone more impressive to ask.”

There was a glint off metal, a dagger in his hand that hadn’t previously been there, moonlight reflecting off the blade. Lesso found herself leaning forward, waiting to see what would happen. She’s never heard you speak so cruelly to another person and while she could sympathise, she didn’t realise you were capable of sneering at the unworthy. You usually met them with a smile and respect, two ideologies she refused to subscribe to.

The dagger flashed and a soft lavender glow lit the hallway. Dangling from one ankle, upside down and glowering, the witless man hung in front of you. He slashed the dagger towards you, a howl of anger coming from him. You simple stepped back, considering him for a moment, head tilted and lips curling up at the corners in an almost devilish smile. This was a side to you she’d yet to see, just another lie and secret to keep your true motives from her. The heart in her chest thundered with anger, the new knowledge burning through her.

“This is your one warning, Derrick. Try something like this again and I won’t be nearly so kind. See how easily I overpowered you? Just consider what I’ll do when I’m not holding back,” you said, voice turning silky smooth.

“You bitch,” he snarled.

“I’m sure one day you’ll be more imaginative too,” you said.

A wave of your lavender finger glow and the dagger was torn from his grip, floating into yours. You looked down at it, nose wrinkling in an uncomfortably fetching way. Tucking it away into your bodice, you looked down into his face, hovering somewhere around your navel.

“Trust me, Derrick. I am not someone you want to cross. Run along now,” you said.

With a lazy flick of the wrist, he fell to the stone floor in a crumpled heap. You watched him scrabble to his feet, trying to look composed in his rumpled clothes and mussed hair. Resentment. That was the expression that had flashed over his face when he’d begun the conversation. He resented you for everything he was not.

“You’ll regret this,” he said.

“Somehow I doubt that.”

You watched him flee down the hall with cool indifference before turning back to the window, your thoughts already slipping past him. Looking out on the night pressing in, you sighed, relaxing again as if the altercation had never happened. A small smile ticked your lips up, bright and joyful, head tipping back in the moonlight.

“You can stop lurking in the shadows,” you said.

She stepped out, cane clicking on the floor, a sign for those in the immediate area to begin panicking. You didn’t even turn in her direction, the only indication you were aware of her presence the flutter of your eyes opening. She stopped at your shoulder, looking out on the forest, wondering what creatures might be lurking out there.

“Who are you?” she asked, voice harsh when compared to you.

“Your assistant. Nothing more, nothing less,” you replied.

“No one is that loyal to me,” she said, voice barely more than a rasp when it came from her lips.

You had to be a rival. You had to be. She couldn’t handle it if all her instincts were so wrong about you.

She raised her hand, not sure what she was going to do. You turned, finally, looking up into her eyes. That damned smile was still in place, softening when you looked at her. Fingers curled around your neck, her thumb rested against your pulse, just as she’d dreamed of doing. It thrummed under her touch despite your calm exterior.

She pushed you back until your back hit the glass of the window. You shivered, making her smirk grow. Your discomfort was her pleasure.

“No more lies.” She felt out of control, her perfect veneer slipping.

“I’ve never lied to you once, Lady Lesso,” you said, sounding so calm despite her hand wrapped around your neck.

“You want to destroy me,” she snarled, her face drawing closer.

“I want to serve you,” you replied on a sigh.

She pressed you more insistently against the glass, her fingers tightening. She could imagine the bruises blooming over your skin, the pretty canvas holding her art. And what a masterpiece you would make.

“You’re nothing,” she spat, “a pathetic spy who can’t even notice when you’re the one being watched.”

“I always know when you’re watching me,” you replied.

“You can’t,” she snarled.

“I can,” you said, not shying away from the rage on her face or the pressure of her fingers on your windpipe, “when it’s you, I always know.”

“Shut up,” she snapped, voice tight.

You were staring up at her with those wide eyes, sparkling. Teeth sunk into your bottom lip, keeping you from giving her one of your patent smiles and she was so aware of the knife hidden in your bodice. One of your hands reached up, gently curling around her wrist, skin to skin. Lightning flowed from the point of contact and she flinched.

“You must be my enemy,” she said, but her voice was losing its harsh edge, “you must be.”

“Why must I be?” you asked.

Your fingertips brushed the vulnerable skin of her inner wrist and she snatched it back, leaving your throat bare and her skin tingling, cane clattering to the ground from the other. You kept your back pressed to the window, watching her with an openness that made her skin itch.

“You pay close attention to me. What other reason if not to find my weaknesses?” she said, sounding less sure of herself with every passing word.

“Can you really think of no other reason I might be paying such close attention to you?” you asked and she could hear how amused you were.

“That’s the only reason you’d do that,” she said, her hand slamming into the window beside your head, rattling the glass in its frame. You didn’t flinch.

“It’s not why you’ve been paying such close attention to me,” you said, “it’s not why I scare you.”

“You don’t scare me,” she replied, almost on autopilot.

“No?”

Your hand reached up, finger wrapping itself in one of her fiery curls. Her heart thudded and she waited for the pull.

Eye fluttering shut, she felt your other hand came up, fingers ghosting over her lips. She was going to die. You were going to kill her and she wouldn’t be meeting Death with her eyes open. Her breath was dragged from her lungs and she thought she might collapse.

“I think you’re terrified,” you murmured, fingertip tracing the shape of her lips.

She couldn’t argue. Her pulse was racing, heart thumping, and all she could focus on was the path your finger was taking. She knew you’d be her downfall but she’d never expected it to feel so soft, as if she had permission to sink into your devastating touch.

Your finger disappeared and she didn’t have time to readjust before something soft ghosted over her lips. Her eyes shot open, finding you so close, your lips pressing more insistently. She felt herself coming apart at the seams. Her eyes fluttered shut again as your tongue traced the seam of her lips. You tasted of sugar and spice and everything nice. It made her blood boil.

Her hands grasped your hip, and she pushed your body back. She took control of the kiss, teeth sinking into your lip until copper burst on her tongue. You made a small whimpering noise and she felt drunk, under a spell, enchanted. Your fingers tangled in her hair, pulling just enough to make her feel her sanity slip away.

She drew away, your lips painted red with your own blood. They tugged up into a smile and she groaned, kissing you again. You sunk into it, the soft sigh too sweet for her. She pushed her leg between yours, feeling your heat through the layers of cloth. You moaned, fingers tightening in her curls with a sharp tug.

Maybe her feelings towards you were less about taking you down and more about going down on you.

She tore her mouth from yours, panting hard as her eyes darted wildly over your face. You were looking up into her face, lips kiss swollen and eyes glassy. She could see your chest heaving and she took a step back. If she didn’t, she wasn’t sure she could stop and if she didn’t stop she wasn’t sure she would be in control anymore. She could lose herself in you, and you were right, that terrified her.

“What have you done to me?” came out as a breathless whisper.

Your chuckle was too close to knowing and she wanted to stop it. Her fingers itched to curl around your throat again, wanting the sound to cut off. You took a step towards her, the chuckle dying, leaving behind a small smile and sparkling eyes.

“Don’t come near me,” she snapped.

You stilled, freezing in place like she was some kind of frightened animal prone to startling. Her teeth ground together and a frustrated sound came from her lips. You waited, giving her the space to calm down and it made her want to scream. You were too accommodating.

“Don’t do what I tell you,” she snapped but it was less controlled.

“So I should come near you?” you asked, your smile turning into a small smirk.

“No,” she shouted, “yes. Fuck. What have you done to me?”

“Nothing,” you replied, taking another step towards her and she wanted to raise her hands in defence and blast you through the window behind you, “I think you just like me.”

“I don’t like anyone,” she snapped as a reflex.

“Then why do you stare at me all day? Why did you kiss me like that?” you asked, advancing on her until her back hit the stone wall behind her in the shadows she’d emerged from, “why are you still thinking about kissing me?”

“Lust isn’t the same as like,” she replied but even then she knew you had the upper hand.

“Maybe not, but you definitely like me, Lady Lesso,” you said, placing one hand on her hip, keeping her pinned to the wall.

“Your delusions are not my concern,” she tried to snarl but it sounded like a wolf without teeth.

“Then leave,” you said, “if I’m wrong, it should be easy for you to leave me here heartbroken and rejected.”

She wanted to push past you, to shove you out of the way, but she found herself unable to do it. Her hands landed on your shoulders but that’s as far as she got. Your smile turned into something soft and understanding and she hated it.

“Stop that,” she said.

“Stop what?” you asked. You blinked and your eyelashes were so long they brushed your cheekbones like a stupid princess.

“Making me feel these things,” she said.

“No can do, Lady Lesso. That’s one request I can’t accomplish,” you said.

“What kind of assistant are you?” she demanded but there was no heat behind it.

“The kind that does this.”

You lent forward, capturing her lips in another searing kiss. She groaned into your mouth, fingers sliding into your hair, tangling and tugging until she heard you whimper and press your body against hers. You nipped at her lower lip and all she could think of was all the ways she wanted to defile you.

“Fine,” she mumbled against your lips, “but you’re not getting a pay raise.”

“I don’t need one,” you replied, before kissing her again.

Maybe you weren’t trying to destroy her, but you still made her feel weak in all the ways that mattered. But maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing. Not if you were going to continue kissing her like that.

#lady lesso x reader #lady lesso imagine #lady lesso #leonora lesso x reader #leonora lesso imagine

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deartrent · 11 months ago

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untold feelings — taa (pt. 1)

summary: you find yourself in a web of secrecy, long-suppressed desires and untold feelings within the buildings of liverpool fc, and it's bound to become a sticky situation

warnings: contains smut (18+, mdni)

pairing: trent alexander-arnold x fem!reader

notes: this is my first time writing smut and posting it, so i'm sorry if it's ass 😭 i'm thinking of adding more parts to this bc ive got some ideas cooking, but let me know what you guys think of this part first!

when you started your new job at liverpool fc as a player care officer, you had no idea what awaited you. all you knew was that you'd be in touch with the players most of the time; your main task literally being their first-line support for every- and anything they wanted and needed.

what you didn't expect though, was getting attached to one particular footballer. he was a man of little words, an introverted, closed off, at first seemingly "asshole"—though that presumption disappeared as you spoke to the guy more often. he was mysterious, a characteristic that ignited your interest in him in the first place. he wasn't your usual outgoing, witless and self-centered footballer, no, instead he kept to himself and only gave well-thought out answers. you tried your best to keep each interaction professional, especially when the news broke out of his new vice captain role, you vowed to not get involved with him, not wanting to be the reason that would put his new role in jeopardy.

you struggled though. the tension was there. you could feel it, he could feel it. if anyone else was in the room, they could feel it too. his eyes would bore into you as you typed away on your computer, logging the information he would give you, his eyes clearly attempting to get a message across. he had no shame in checking you out, scanning every part of your body, before his eyes would meet yours again, a mischievous smirk on his face as he sank further into his chair comfortably, his arms lazily draped along the armrests, his legs spread out.

after a few more appointments and conversations, you noticed him coming out of his shell more. there was no denying that the dynamic between you guys shifted, from a strictly professional one, to a more easygoing and flirty one. when you'd pass each other in the hallways, trent would flash you a cheeky smile, accompanied by a quick wink he made sure only you could see. if the coast was clear, he'd quickly poke your side as he passed, causing you to burst out in giggles. he'd always make sure to pass by your office as well, before heading to training, making sure to wish you a good morning or even bringing you a coffee if time allowed him to.

you enjoyed the secretive thing you had going on with trent, adding a tinge of excitement to your days.

the annual club dinner was the first time you and trent would see each other outside of a professional setting. his eyes never left you that night, observing your every move while simultaneously networking with the people around him, waiting for a moment to catch you alone.

"took you long enough," you joked as you watched him approach you, while you stood at the bar, waiting for your next drink. "were you waiting for me then?" his crossed arms rested on the bar, as he faced forward, allowing you to admire his side profile, "maybe," you shrugged, thanking the barman, before turning to trent once again. though he wasn't very tall, he still towered a little over you, that same cheeky smirk never leaving his face. the tension was unbearable and you knew he felt it too, the presence of his teammates and your colleagues being the only thing stopping you from sharing little touches.

"enjoying yourself?" you asked, looking away from his face as you started feeling nervous under his gaze, "yeah, very much," he let out a chuckle, knowing you were referring to him checking you out, "i'd enjoy it more if i could touch though," trent mumbled, his eyes scanning over the place, the same way yours did.

you were caught by surprise. he'd never verbally expressed what his eyes were insinuating. you never expected him to be so blunt, showing a different side to him than you were used to, "i'm afraid you're just gonna have to stick to looking for now," you tried to play off the feeling that was forming in the pit of your stomach. you wanted to feel his touch just as much as he wanted to touch you, your mind wandering off to the mental images of his body that you'd collected over the past few weeks while observing him in training from the window in your office. "watch out, you might start drooling in a minute," trent joked, amused with his own joke, while you hit his arm with the back of your hand.

you spent the rest of the night flirting back and forth with trent, either through eye contact or subtle touches as you'd pass each other. the night slowly came to an end and trent made sure to check up on you one more time.

"do you want me to drive you home?" trent asked, a hint of hope in his eyes that you'd say yes. you looked around for a second, "i already had a ride, but i don't mind going with you," although your facial expression would never give it away, you felt more nervous with each second passing, the realisation settling in that soon you'd be completely alone with trent.

while trent drove you home, the tension that had built up over the past few weeks only rose. one thing led to another and before you knew it, trent was reclined in the driver's seat, while you had both legs on each side of him. you'd been waiting for this exact moment, to feel his voluptuous and soft lips on yours, savouring every second you spent tasting his mouth. your lips wrapped around his bottom lip, tugging a little as trent's eyes shot closed, his large hands carefully placed on your hips, squeezing them ever so softly. beneath you, you could feel trent grow. seeing him melt under your touch drove you insane, the combination of his shut eyes, parted lips and hushed moans making you feel something you had never felt before.

trent's hands found their way around your back, unzipping the dress you picked with him in mind, as he slowly shed you of your clothing. his fingers eagerly unclasped your bra and as your eyes locked for a split second, you noticed just how hungry he was for you. your dress sat bunched up around your waist, your panties exposed, while your bra was lost somewhere in the car. trent's fingers played with your nipples, an unfamiliar sensation shooting through your body, only trent's touch having that effect on you, "trent," you tried to mumble, his lips never leaving yours, as though he was making up for the past few weeks of depriving him of your touch.

trent's hands roamed around your body, grabbing a handful of your ass, as you leaked more fluid all over your panties. you needed to feel him and you needed to make it clear to him, so as you finally let go of his lips, you cupped his face with your hands, holding him close as you whispered against his swollen lips, "i need you to fuck me like you've never fucked anyone before," those words leaving your mouth made trent go feral, unbuckling and pulling his pants down with one swift motion, the only barrier between your skin and his being your panties and his boxers. your hands wrapped around the elastic band, pulling the boxers down as his cock sprung free, resting against his stomach.

"fuck," you whispered against his lips, your pussy throbbing, yearning to be filled up. trent wasted no time, holding your panties to the side with one hand, while the other slid against your folds, spreading the moisture across his fingers before pumping his cock in his hands a few times. trent lined himself up with your entrance, the moment you both had silently been waiting for finally here. your hands rested on his broad shoulders as you slowly lowered yourself onto him. picking up your pace, trent was losing his mind and you could tell. his head fell back against the headrest, his hands firmly on your hips, guiding you through your movements. "fucking hell," he cursed, burying his cock deep inside, hitting a spot you didn't even know was possible, your moans getting louder.

you knew he was close from how sloppy each thrust had become, his breathing getting deeper and quicker. you lifted yourself off of him without a warning, his eyes lazily following your every move, high off of the ride you just gave him. you moved back to the passenger's seat, sitting on your knees as you wrapped both hands around his cock, leaving a trail of spit on his tip as you moved up and down as fast as you could, driving him to his climax. cum leaked all over your fingers, while trent cursed under his breath. your mind clouded by feelings of lust and desire, you brought your fingers up to your lips, licking them off as though you'd just finished a meal. trent chuckled as he crashed down from his high, his thumb caressing your cheek, "won't lie, i didn't expect all that from you, ms. wanna keep things professional," he joked, your cheeks heating up at his remark.

the night continued for a while, you'd moved to the backseat, lying on your back as trent supported himself on top of you. with your legs up, resting on trent's shoulders, he slammed into you, your cries being heard from outside the car. "fuc-" you choked on your moans, trent's name leaving your lips, warning him that you were close. trent watched your eyes roll back, his thumb circling between your folds, stimulating your clit, while his thrusts became deeper and slower, "fuck, fuck, fuck," your legs trembled, your body shuddering against trent as you held onto his muscular arms, as he unloaded another load inside of you.

the car felt hot by the end, your sweaty body on top of trent's as you laid your head on his shoulder, one of your hands resting on his exposed chest. the silence cleared your mind enough to think about what had just happened. you had no idea how you went from fighting to get a word out of trent to lying on top of him naked, vulnerable and fucked out in his car, parked in front of your place. if you had any energy left in you, you'd be stressing about how you were supposed to go back to work and pretend like nothing had happened—at least that's what you were planning on doing.

you knew you crossed a line you shouldn't have, you felt regret as you looked up at trent whose eyes were shut, his breathing steady and calm. you wondered what was going through his mind, if he was thinking the same as you, and if the weight of concealing the intimacy between you both laid as heavily on his heart as it did on yours.

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penelopepine · 6 months ago

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New Prosthetic Eye

141 reacts to you showing them your new prosthetic eye.

Note: Anyone else in the COD fandom have a prosthetic eye or just me?

CW: Slight angst

Price:

This was the first time Price was coming with you to the ocularist. You two had planned an entire weekend trip based around this appointment, but he had to admit that he was most excited about seeing the process of you getting your new eyes; the fun eye and the normal eye.

You had warned him though that this was going to be two days of going to the doctor’s office, putting the eye in, taking it out, and then leaving every few hours for the regular prosthetic. The visit only being a few minutes long every few hours, and that you would have understood if he didn’t want to come. He does want to come though; this is a major part of you. Nothing was going to stop him from being here with you no matter how mundane it is.

“Honey, are you ready to tell me what design you're doing? I don’t think you can keep it a secret for much longer now that we’re here.” Price says to you while you both are sitting in the waiting room.

You give him a devilish smile, “No, you’ll see it in just a few minutes! I’m not ruining the surprise while we’re this close to the finish line!”

Price chuckled and squeezed your hand. You had told him a while ago that the fun eye was going to be a surprise for him. He had no idea how this was going to shock, but he was excited to see what you had done nonetheless.

It was only a few minutes after that when your name was called by the doctor. You and her first talked about the regular eye, and her taking all the photos she first needed to get started. Next it was the fun eye. You had been talking with the ocularist for the past few weeks before your appointment talking about it. The fun eye didn’t need the whole back and forth like the regular eye did so when the doctor brought out a little box Price knew that the eye was in there.

Excitedly so you remove the eye you already had in, and place it on the table beside you. Price stood right next to you as the doctor opened the box for you both to see. What he saw only reminded him of how much he loved you.

The eye was covered in a honeycomb pattern and bee right in the corner. It was an obvious connection to the nickname “Honey” that he always called you.

“That’s not even the best part,” you take the eye in your hand, and turn it around to show the back of it. Right where you would normally have a star symbol, a marker to let you know where the top was, instead was his and your initials. A heart drawn in between them.

Price doesn’t think that he could have stopped the smile that graced his face even if he tried. Grabbing one of your hands he gives your knuckles a kiss. “Put it in, Honey. Let’s see it in action.”

Gaz:

Gaz doesn't think he'll ever be able to forget the moment you first showed him your new eye. Your smile was bright, but uncertain as you looked at him. This was your first fun eye as you had called it.

You had come to him months ago talking about how you had made an appointment for a new eye, and that you were getting a fun eye as well despite being so nervous about it. When he had asked what you had to be nervous about you talked about it would then be obvious that you were different. That was why you had always only ever gotten the normal eyes because you didn't want to stand out any more than you already do.

It was a long conversation about your feelings surrounding your missing eye, but in the end he felt that he understood you so much more. Gaz honestly found the fact that you had a prosthetic eye pretty cool. He's so happy that you're now embracing it fully.

"You look amazing, love." Gaz leaned forward giving you a quick kiss, "That eye truly looks like it was meant to be worn by you." It really did too. The design on the eye resembled a disco ball. Your eye flashed with every move you made.

“Well it was made specifically for me.” You say with a small chuckle.

Gaz chuckles along with you before remembering a conversation the two of you had a while ago, “Does this mean I can have one of your old eyes?”

“You seriously want one?”

“Of course! You said that people often made jewelry out of them, and I want to make a keychain with one of yours. That way I’ll always have a piece of you with me.”

“We'll go down to the craft store tomorrow then, and get that made!”

He gives you another kiss, “Perfect!”

Gaz loved watching you the following days as you lit up every time you looked in the mirror. Moving your head around, and watching as the light bounced off your eye. He promised himself right there that if anyone said anything cruel about your new eye he would make sure that poor soul never looked in your direction again.

Soap:

Soap couldn't believe that he was finally getting married to you today. It had been so stressful yet so fun planning for this day. He couldn't wait to see you walk down the aisle to him.

You didn’t let him see the wedding dress or your wedding eye, and he knew you were excited for him to see as well. Soap hadn't thought about a wedding eye when you two were talking about making appointments for everything, but when you had hesitantly brought up the idea of getting a new eye specially for the wedding he was all for it.

He had begged you to let him see it, but you had said that, just like the dress, him seeing it would cause bad luck. It was hard though not knowing what it looked like. Soap had been at every appointment since you two had gotten together; even helped you with a few designs as well.

It wasn’t until the doors opened and the music started did Soap snap out of his thoughts. You, his soon to be wife, stood at the entrance looking ethereal. It truly took his breath away looking at you. He didn’t think this day could get any better.

With you now standing right in front him he was finally able to clearly see your eyes. Your beautiful seeing eye and your wedding eye. Which somehow made his smile even wider looking at it. The design on it was his family’s tartan; it perfectly matched his kilt.

“You have no idea what you do to me, lass.” Soap whispered to you as he took your hands in his.

“I have an idea on exactly what I can do.”

And that is exactly why he loves you so much. He doesn’t think anyone else could ever know him like you do. The only left to do know was to say “I do” and walk out of here as Mr. and Mrs. MacTavish.

Ghost:

Walking into the front door of your shared apartment after being deployed was always something he looked forward to. As soon as the door shut behind you were already jumping into his arms, and he welcomed it every time.

He held you tight for several seconds before pulling away. Looking into your eyes he sees something that he’s never seen before; you got a new eye while he was away. Ghost couldn’t get enough of your eyes; both of them.

Your new eye’s design was a glittery skull. A skull that held a lot of resemblance to his own mask. Very gently he grabs your face, making you hold your gaze with his. “What’s this love?” Ghost makes sure to tap your cheek on the same side as your prosthetic just to make sure you know what he’s talking about.

"Do you like it?" You grin up at him, "We match!”

“Hmm looks great, love,” Ghost loved all your eyes. He especially loved when you had given him a random gift one day that was one of your older normal eyes made into a bracelet. He wore it all the time. The reaction he got from Soap seeing it for the first time was something he would always remember.

Getting a closer look at the eye, Ghost noticed that the accuracy of his mask was almost scary. Your ocularist was truly an artist and it showed with every single eye you had made. The new eye wasn’t his favorite, but it was a close second. His absolute favorite was when you got an eye designed after his own eyes. You had gotten it some time after you gave him the bracelet.

Ghost didn’t understand why, when you first started dating, hid the fact that you wore a prosthetic eye. Only ever wearing a normal eye around him for the longest time. It wasn’t until you wore a fun eye with him, and you ended up getting harassed by an old woman about how terrible it was that you didn’t try and hide it. “You’re going to scare the children, “ she had said.

It was a step back in your confidence of wearing them, but with time and reassurance it seems like you don’t ever wear your normal eye nowadays. He wouldn’t have it any other way; all he wanted was for you to feel comfortable expressing yourself.

#task force 141 #x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #call of duty #john soap mactavish #fem reader #john price #kyle gaz garrick #john price x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #kyle gaz x reader #gaz x reader #141 x reader #tf 141 x reader #prosthetic eye #This fic is so self indulgent #Any other one eyed girlies

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misswynters · 5 months ago

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Gym Confession

tom taylor x gn! reader

word count: 1.3k

a/n: the fic i’m writing for aeron/benji/reader is taking forever so here’s another one!@benjicotblckwood

The early morning sun peeked through the windows of the gym, casting a warm glow on the equipment. You and Tom Taylor had made it a habit to work out together whenever your schedules allowed. Today was one of those rare days where neither of you had any pressing commitments, and you were determined to make the most of it.

Tom was already at the gym when you arrived, warming up with some stretches. He flashed you a bright smile as you approached. "Hey! Ready to get started?"

"Absolutely," you replied, returning his smile. "What's the plan for today?"

He glanced at his phone, where he'd made a rough outline of the workout. "I was thinking we could start with some cardio, then move on to strength training. How does that sound?"

"Perfect," you said, feeling a rush of excitement. Working out with Tom was always fun; his enthusiasm and positive energy were contagious.

You both hopped on adjacent treadmills and began your warm-up. As the treadmills hummed beneath you, Tom started to talk about his latest project. "So, we've just wrapped up filming, and I think this one's going to be really special. The script was incredible, and the cast was amazing."

"That's great to hear," you said, slightly breathless as you picked up the pace. "I can't wait to see it. You're always so passionate about your work."

Tom grinned, clearly pleased. "Thanks. It means a lot to hear that from you."

After the cardio session, you moved on to the weight machines. Tom adjusted the settings on one of the machines and gestured for you to take the first turn. "How about we start with some leg presses?"

You nodded, positioning yourself on the machine. As you began your set, Tom stood by, offering encouragement. "You've got this. Keep your back straight and push through your heels."

His supportive words and watchful eye helped you maintain proper form, and before you knew it, you'd finished your set. Tom took his turn next, and you returned the favor, cheering him on.

"Come on, Tom! You make this look easy," you teased, watching as he effortlessly completed his reps.

He laughed, the sound bright and genuine. "Don't be fooled. I'm working hard here."

The two of you moved through the rest of your workout, alternating between different exercises and machines. Between sets, you chatted about everything from favorite movies to weekend plans, the conversation flowing naturally and easily.

As the session drew to a close, you both found yourselves at the stretching area, cooling down with some light stretches. Tom reached over and handed you a bottle of water. "Here, you need to stay hydrated."

"Thanks," you said, taking a grateful sip. "I think that was one of our best workouts yet."

"I agree," Tom said, his eyes meeting yours with a warm, genuine expression. "I always look forward to these sessions. It's nice to have a workout partner who pushes me and keeps things fun."

"Right back at you," you replied, feeling a sense of camaraderie and appreciation. "You make it so much easier to stay motivated."

As you both finished your stretches, Tom glanced at his watch. "Hey, I've got a bit of time before my next appointment. How about we grab a smoothie or something?"

"That sounds great," you said, smiling. "I know just the place."

You both headed out of the gym, the sun now higher in the sky, promising a beautiful day ahead. The nearby smoothie bar was a favorite of yours, known for its delicious and healthy options. As you walked, Tom fell into step beside you, the easy conversation continuing.

When you reached the smoothie bar, you both ordered your favorites and found a table by the window. As you sipped your drinks, Tom leaned back in his chair, a contented look on his face.

"Days like this are the best," he said, his eyes reflecting a sense of peace. "Good workout, good company, and a great smoothie to top it off."

You nodded in agreement, feeling a similar sense of satisfaction. "Couldn't agree more. It's nice to take a break and enjoy the little things."

Tom's gaze softened as he looked at you, his smile gentle. "You know, I'm really glad we do this. It means a lot to have you as a friend and workout partner."

"Same here," you replied, your heart warming at his words. "Here's to many more workouts and smoothies together."

Tom raised his smoothie cup in a mock toast, and you clinked yours against it, both of you laughing. It was moments like these that made you appreciate the special bond you shared, built on mutual respect, support, and genuine friendship.

As you finished your drinks and prepared to head your separate ways, you couldn't help but notice the way Tom's eyes lingered on you a little longer than usual. There was something in his gaze, a hint of unspoken tension that hadn't been there before.

Later that week, you and Tom found yourselves at the gym again, ready for another workout. This time, there was a slight awkwardness in the air, a tension that neither of you had addressed yet.

Tom adjusted the settings on the bench press, his movements more deliberate than usual. "Let's start with this today."

You nodded, sensing the change in his demeanor. As you took your turn on the bench press, you could feel his eyes on you, watching your every move. When it was his turn, you stood by, offering the same encouragement he always gave you.

"Come on, lord of the north. You got this," you said, trying to keep the tone light.

He managed a small smile but didn't respond with his usual banter. Instead, he focused on his reps, the silence between you growing heavier with each passing moment.

After finishing the set, Tom sat up, wiping sweat from his forehead. He glanced at you, his expression conflicted. "There's something I need to talk to you about."

You felt a knot form in your stomach. "Okay. What's going on?"

Tom took a deep breath, his eyes searching yours. "I... I've been feeling something more than just friendship between us. And I didn't want to say anything because I didn't want to ruin what we have. But it's getting harder to ignore."

Your heart raced, a mixture of emotions swirling inside you. You had always valued your friendship with Tom, but now you were forced to confront feelings you hadn't fully acknowledged.

"I don't want to ruin what we have either," you said softly. "But I can't deny that there's something there."

Tom's eyes softened, relief washing over his features. "So, what do we do?"

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing thoughts. "I think we need to be honest with each other. We can take things slow and see where it goes. But whatever happens, I don't want to lose our friendship."

Tom nodded, a small smile forming on his lips. "I can agree to that. Slow and honest."

The tension between you eased slightly, replaced by a sense of anticipation and curiosity about what the future might hold. As you continued your workout, the unspoken understanding between you added a new layer to your interactions.

Later, as you cooled down with some light stretches, Tom reached over and gently squeezed your hand. "Thanks for being honest with me. It means a lot."

You squeezed his hand back, feeling a sense of connection that was deeper than ever. "Thank you for bringing it up. I'm glad we talked about it."

As you both left the gym and headed to the smoothie bar once again, the conversation flowed more easily. There was still a lot to figure out, but you knew that with honesty and openness, you could navigate this new phase of your relationship together. Sitting at the same table by the window, sipping your smoothies, you felt a renewed sense of optimism.

#house of the dragon #hotd fanfic #house targaryen #hotd x reader #hotd cregan #cregan x reader #tom taylor x reader #tom taylor #cregan fanfiction #cregan x you #cregan x y/n #cregan smut #cregan stark

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shawnxstyles · 1 year ago

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the only one

DATE: JANUARY 2, 2024

summary: you go on your first date with peter, and it ends even better than you could have ever expected. ;)

request: yes!

words: 6.3k

warnings: SMUT (f-receiving [oral, fingering, multiple orgasms], protected sex, dirty talk), language, and the most gentlemanly man.

note: i cannot believe i’m finally writing another gyno!peter after all this time… anyway, this is NOT an actual series, simply just more situations/scenes of these two together!

gynecologist!peter x patient!y/n

–

Every date that you’ve been on in the past never made you this nervous. You didn’t spend two hours just deciding on what to wear and taking an extra hour to prepare yourself. You worked for a fashion magazine, editing and reviewing comments and critiques. You were surrounded by clothes and creativity all day, but struggled to pick a “first-date look” from your closet. You swore you read something about that before…

You never thought first dates were anything more than a simple introduction, a first impression of another human being. It was one of the foundations of the question, “Could I get along well enough with this person to go on a second date?”.

You had only been on two first dates: one with your ex, who you were with for four months, and recently with that guy from your work. The second one was mainly just a hook-up, and the first one obviously led to some type of relationship that didn’t work out in the end. Maybe you didn’t have enough experience in the dating world to be wondering if the amount of nerves you had right now was healthy.

Your hands were clammy as you strapped on your black heels. You noticed you were swallowing more frequently than normal, and you didn’t understand why. When you looked in the mirror, your hands flattened out your black dress more times than you could count, ridding wrinkles that aren’t even there.

After your appointment a few weeks ago, you had texted Peter. More specifically, you texted him the next day. Immediately after simply saying hello and your name, you thought of how many other people he may have given his phone number to. Or worse, how many people he had fingered in his office… You started worrying if you shouldn’t have texted him at all because he was a doctor. He was probably too busy for anything. It was just a nice gesture, maybe?

But an hour later, in the evening, he had texted you back with a short apology. He was working a little past the clock in order to get more doctor stuff done. Even his texts were sweet with a dab of charm. How do women control themselves around him?

Or maybe it was just you, and you were a fucking weirdo.

Yeah it could be that.

Peter and you went on to texting every now and then to texting daily. Texting him was something to look forward to after a long day at work. It also became pretty clear that he wasn’t texting anyone else because well, he was working throughout the day doing doctor stuff while you were doing editor stuff. He would even text you during his lunch break and that always made your heart skip to see his message in the middle of the day.

One night in particular, you were complaining to Peter (yes, you had gotten to the point where you could complain about little inconveniences) about your sink malfunctioning. Instead of asking you to send pictures of the pipes under the sink, he had you FaceTime him. It was the first time you guys have ever called and the second time you’ve ever seen his face, so your heart was a little race-y. But when that charming, wide grin flashed on your screen, he easily slipped into conversation. Peter helped you fix your sink with a little wrench movement along with replacing a broken screw through the phone.

It wasn’t awkward. It was relieving.

You didn’t have to force a certain personality in order to engage in a conversation with him. You felt more yourself than you ever have when talking to him, flowing easily like two streams into one. You hadn’t even realized how late it was by the time you guys ended the call until he was gone. The serenity of your place felt a little more emptier than usual without the sound of his beautiful accent from your speaker. It was nearly midnight by the time you went to bed, wondering how things would be if you and Peter took your friendship a bit further.

Would talking always be this simple? Would he always be this charming?

After that night, you would make excuses to call him. He never denied you, even after he told you he had a long day at the hospital. You guys were not only texting now, but calling daily. You would get excited for his texts and calls, looking forward to talking to him. That’s when you realized you wanted more with him. It felt like you knew each other forever, but it had merely been a few weeks. You wanted to go on a date with him, wanted to be with him in person again. And of course, your mind wandered to the thought of how he is in bed.

If he was that good with just his quick fingers, then how good was he with more space and time? You began to dream about it.

Then he finally asked you. It was so sudden, you honestly didn’t expect it.

You were debriefing your plans for the week and what you had to do at work.

“Sometimes, I feel like my life is on repeat,” You chuckle, but it sounds tired.

“You’re always doing the same thing every week?” Peter questions. He found that he loves just listening to you talk for hours about whatever. He prompts you with questions, and you always answer thoroughly. It’s like an unspoken routine for you two.

“I mean, it feels like that. I never have time to go out and do anything. And when I do, I don’t go out,” You half-smile to yourself as you look down at your lap. You sounded kind of lame, so you were trying not to cringe at yourself.

“You told me your agenda for this week, but what about Saturday and Sunday?”

“Oh, well, you know I don’t work on the weekends. Sometimes, I get extra stuff done at home, but only because I’m bored. I watch TV…” You squint your eyes, trying to think of things you do on the weekend when you’re not busy. “You know, I’m listening to what I’m saying, and I am so lame. God, I need a life outside of work.”

“You’re not lame. Just busy. Give yourself some credit,” he waves off your dig at yourself, and you don’t stop yourself from smiling. He’s just too nice. You can’t take your eyes off him through the small screen as he watches you back.

“Yeah, yeah. Enough about me. What are your weekend plans?” You definitely talk too much, so you always attempt to ask him questions back.

“Well, I was thinking of taking you out,” he very casually says, nonchalantly staring at you through the camera. “Unless you’re busy watching TV.”

“W-What?” Heat crawled up your neck and ears, skin flaming off of his quick words. He’s always charming and always confident with you, so why are you surprised he’s this smooth? You wonder if he’s been thinking about it for a while or if he just got the idea randomly. “Are you serious?”

“Yes. Unless you don’t want to. In that case, I am joking…”

“I want to, Peter,” You smile with the words. It feels impossible to lower your cheek muscles because of the giddiness coursing through you. “If I’m honest, I’ve kind of been waiting for you to ask me.”

“I was a little slow, yeah?”

“Yeah, both the turtle and the hare beat you to the finish line,” His wonderful laugh echoes through the speaker of your phone, and it fills you with warmth.

While other people have belittled you and forced you to be one way, Peter naturally allows you to be yourself. Your wit flourishes, and your insecurities fade into unique parts of you. Whether you two are friends or more, you need more people like Peter in your life.

After you two had confirmed the plans for Saturday, you two both went to bed when the call ended. When your head hits the pillow, it’s instantly filled with scenarios of you and Peter. Mostly how your first date might go. Is he the type to pull out a chair for you? Definitely. Would he pay without a second glance? Probably, knowing he has that doctor paycheck. Would he kiss you after walking you back to your door? Maybe, maybe not.

But he did finger-fuck you in his office, so nothing is really that impossible.

So, you let your mind wander for the rest of the night while you sleep peacefully. Yes, you had some great dreams.

–

Instead of texting you that he’s here, Peter knocks on your door. The sound itself made your heart accelerate instantly as you stride quickly to answer it. You’ve been overthinking all the ways that this day could go bad, seriously hoping that it doesn’t.

“Hey,” Peter says, clearly eyeing you up and down. He sounds slightly breathless, but not as if he just ran to your door. No, more like he’s speechless. But you could just be overanalyzing every little detail.

“Hey,” As you repeat the word back, you’re both silent for a second. It’s not awkward as it is tense. You’re both just observing and taking in the appearance of the other, appreciating the time and effort in the looks. Peter’s wearing a navy button-up with black slacks. The first two buttons are undone, giving you a peek at his seemingly smooth chest. He’s not wearing a jacket, so you get a view of his arms. From the way the rich fabric stretches around his muscles, it’s obvious that he works out. He just keeps getting better. He continues to check more of your boxes. “Let me just go grab my purse really quick.”

You snatch your bag off of the coffee table after checking you have everything. What if his one flaw is that he won’t pay for at least half the dinner? You must prepare for all the possible outcomes.

“You look brilliant,” You can see him swallow before his compliment, and you wonder if he’s as nervous as you are. He never makes it a point to look even the slightest bit unsure, which you admire. He’s very charming, which takes a lot of confidence, and he’s very good at it. When he asked you out in his office, you saw that persona slip just a tad, enough for you to see that he is human and that he gets nervous too. You found him adorable. You still do.

“You as well,” You blush as you shut the door behind you. The two of you walk to his car, and of course, he opens the door for you. You can’t stop blushing. “Seriously, how do you make such a simple outfit look so good?”

“Unbutton it,” he answers before gently shutting your door closed. Your mind instantly went to places that it shouldn’t have, making your skin burn. You thought about unbuttoning his shirt slowly and sensually until it fell down his bulky arms. You thought about unbuttoning his slacks and palming his cock. He would be so hard for you, and you didn’t hesitate to get on your knees. God, you wished it was real because you truly would not hesitate for this man.

You shake your head, attempting to rid yourself of those dirty thoughts, so you can have a peaceful date. A first date with Peter.

–

When you guys get to the restaurant, that small voice in the back of your head expects it to be awkward the second you sit down. But once again, you were proven incorrect.

Peter instantly engages in a smooth conversation, asking how your week was overall. You told him all about work and the papers you’re reviewing, and he told you about some of his patients. Every time he mentions anything doctor related, it just makes you swoon. It’s impressive how intelligent he is, and even more so how hard he works. It’s obvious he loves what he does, and you never realized that loving one’s passion was a must-have in your partner checklist.

You also just love the way he talks. His accent makes your skin hot and your spine tingle. Your mind wanders to places it shouldn’t more often than not. And his gaze never leaves yours, only when talking to the waiter when ordering.

There is never a dull moment. Even as you were patiently waiting for your food, you still found things to talk about.

“What do you think they’re celebrating?” he asks, observing two people in the back corner with smiles on their faces.

“They’re dressed nicely, and they’re holding hands too much to be together for that long. I’m going to guess the three or four month anniversary.”

“What about them?” he nudges his head in the direction of the people not too far from you two, sitting with straight faces.

“Oh, they’re not celebrating. Probably breaking up.”

“Who goes to such a nice restaurant for a break-up?”

“I don’t know. Sounds like rich people problems to me,” You joke, and you both share a chuckle. It feels nice to casually chat and people watch with somebody else. When your food arrives, you both eat with more adding silence, slipping in words slowly.

“Did I tell you you look really good tonight?” Peter changes the topic, eyes fixating back onto you.

“Yes… Thank you,” You feel yourself blushing all over your body. You use your napkin to wipe your lips, but you’re really using it to protect your face. It was so obvious what his words did to you, that’s probably why he said them. Suddenly, the room feels a little too hot, even just in your dress. “Took me a while to find out what to wear.”

“You could have worn a garbage bag and still looked great,” Peter says, causing you to roll your eyes.

“Oh, stop it. You’re such a charmer. What’s your game? What do you want?” Your words are playful, but the look in Peter’s eye seems more serious. More powerful and heated. Eyes you haven’t seen for a long time in another person, and it freezes you still. The only thing that’s countering the lust circling his irises is the uprising smirk on his lips.

“To take you home.”

Boy, was he a charmer.

“Don’t ask if I’m kidding because I’m not,” he adds, setting down his napkin on the table. He leans over, a curl falling onto his forehead. A hand reaches halfway across the white cloth and rests delicately on your hand. Even his touch was warm and soft, not forceful in any way. “If you want, I’d like to.”

“I…” You were speechless. You knew what your answer would be, but you were just starstruck. How can one person be so gentlemanly yet hot? Cocky yet so sweet? God really didn’t give anyone a chance when making Peter. “Yes, I would like that a lot.”

Your thumb rubs reassuring circles on his thumb while you smile like a fool. Peter’s smirk only got bigger as the night went on.

–

You talked. You laughed. You smiled.

But as he drove you to his house, you got nervous again. Maybe you guys would do something as normal as watch a movie. Maybe even cuddle a bit. But you really, really hoped it was more. Especially after your first meeting, you knew Peter wasn’t too shy about sexual matters. However, maybe he didn’t want to do that with you yet and just wanted to take things slow.

But his office…

When his hand was on yours on the table, your memory was brought back right to the moment of his fingers inside of you in the chair. You remembered the feeling of him pushing his digit in and out repeatedly and how good it felt when he removed his latex gloves. Your core rumbled with lust, getting off on the mere fantasy of it all.

When you arrive at his house, you both silently get out of the car. Besides the sound of nature, you could only hear your racing heart and how it was racking against your ribcage in intense beats. He unlocks his door, keying jingling while the breeze flows past. You’re hyper-aware of every noise as if Peter could hear your choppy breath. When he finally opens the door, he lets you in first and you smile, trying to not let your obvious nerves surface.

But you clearly fail when he points it out.

“What are you thinkin’ about?” Your eyes lock on his hands as he rests his key on his door side table and feet as he casually slips off his dress shoes. Everything about him was mesmerizing. You swear you could just watch a documentary of a regular day in his life and you could be starry-eyed.

“Bunch of things.” But it was really just one thing.

“Care to share?” Peter shifts to the kitchen and you follow him like a helpless dog, clutching your bag for dear life.

“I keep thinking about…the last time we were together,” the words fall from your mouth as you round the counter. You felt like you needed to create some distance between you two if you were going to admit something like that.

“What about it?” Peter’s knack to ask questions right now is making your face burn from embarrassment under his bright kitchen lights. He grabs two glasses and fills them up with fridge water without even asking if you wanted some.

“You know, the fun part,” You round the counter to reach the water, slowly taking a sip. When you set the glass down, your eyes don’t leave his chest. You’re too afraid to look into his eyes.

“I thought it was all pretty fun,” he says, placing down his own glass and taking one large step towards you “Especially the part where you came all over my hand.”

Your skin flames, eyes peering at him for a moment before dashing away. His finger slides beneath your chin to turn your face back to him. He could feel your radiating heat and could see the widening of your pupils under the luminous lights.

“Were you thinking of that?” His finger directs your chin upwards, forcing you to look at him. His voice was low and husky, only for you to hear. “Because I haven’t stopped since the day I walked out of that room.”

“Peter…”

“Just say the word, honey, and I’ll kiss you right now.”

You could just melt into a puddle on the floor of his kitchen. His words are so sensual, there is no way you could ever say no to this man. He’s irresistible without trying too hard.

“Please,” You mustered out seemingly breathless while your eyes were locked into his surely.

He doesn’t miss the beat. His head turns as his lips crash against yours. Your lower back hits the island of the counter of marble, but you don’t flinch. His lips electrocute yours, sending jolts of energy coursing through your body like a shock. Your hands naturally find his neat yet messy styled hair on his nape, fingers rummaging through the curly ends. One of his hands holds your waist down from moving as if he already knows you’re antsy to grind on him. His other caresses your jaw in a stable position, the type of dominance you’ve been craving since that day in his office.

His hand goes underneath your thigh, leading you to wrapping your legs around his waist. You thought he was going to sit you on the counter, but he walked all the way to a bedroom without breaking the kiss.

Peter gently lays you on the bed, causing you to depart from the kiss. He wordlessly goes to unbutton his shirt, but you quickly sit up to do it. You’ve been thinking about doing it since he picked you up, so it only seems right that your fantasy comes true, right?

Just like you imagined, you slowly flicked off the buttons and delicately removed the fabric until it was a bundle of cloth on the floor. On the edge of the bed on your knees, you stare up at Peter with a lustful glint in your eye. That glowy look caused Peter to kiss you again, hungrier than before. His force makes you fall onto the mattress again, making you gasp. He trails down your neck in sloppy kisses, touching every inch of your neck and chest with his lips.

“Where did you get this dress?” You didn’t expect him to ask you that while he was groping your breasts through the material. You moan at the feeling of his rough thumbs on your nipples. It’s very distracting while you try to remember where you got the dress that is currently in the way.

“Um Zara? I-I don’t remember,” You moan loudly, not having time to conceal it as he suckles a mark on your neck.

“Do you like it?”

“What?”

“The dress.”

“S-Sure, yeah. It’s-It’s not my favorite, though,” His tousled hair tickles your face as he gets closer to your boobs.

“Maybe you should have worn a garbage bag.”

“Why?” You pull back a little, moving his head up so you can see his face. You thought maybe you would see some expression of disgust, but he only has pure enjoyment. His soft smile turns into a smirk that you’re growing really fond of. It means he’s about to do something hot.

“Because then I wouldn’t feel so bad about ripping it off of you.”

Just like that, the thin straps are easily snapped from his large hands while he yanks the long dress down your body and onto the floor. His mouth instantly went onto your nipple, sucking until he was satisfied with the raw peak of it. He repeated the same movement the opposite one until you were a panting mess, huffing and puffing from just his mouth on your chest.

You can tell he knows how to do this. Yes, he works in gynecology so it’s a benefit that he knows the female body inside and out. But he’s actually skilled in his technique. Although he is hungry and nearly primal, he takes his time with certain areas, making your body want him more and more each time. It’s incredibly smart, and you’re wondering why every man doesn’t know how to properly treat a woman.

You don’t even know your body the way he seems to know it.

His mouth is at your panties before you could even process it. Right when you think he’s about to widen your legs like you so desperately want him to, he stops when his hands rest on your knees gently. He had been going at a fast pace, but now, he’s slow and controlled. Taunting in a way. Torturing.

“I’m going to remove these now, yeah?” He knows you want it now because he has you in his bed right where you want to be. His tone is not as shy as it had been in the office. It’s more controlling yet still soft. “Words, Y/N.”

That demand was all too similar to his words back in the chair with his hands on your waist. He was about to pull off your underwear then for professional reasons, and now, he’s going to yank them off for selfish ones.

“Please take them off,” Just like you had then, you clenched around nothing. Just his sensual words that make you spiral into horny oblivion. Your wavering tone makes him smile as he tugs down the thin material from your legs, tossing them somewhere in the room.

Then he finally widens your legs, facing your aching pussy that hasn’t forgotten about him since all those weeks ago. You were throbbing and leaking to the damn bed sheets, but you couldn’t give a fuck less. You wanted his fingers, his mouth, his cock–anything that he was willing to give you.

“That day,” he starts, “I really wanted to taste you. You were dripping all over my fingers. It was so hard to stay professional.”

He leans down and gets really close to your cunt, inches away from doing what he really wants to do.

“You’ll let me taste you, right?” he asks in an innocent kind of way, but there’s hints of taunt in there. It makes your core burn, and you almost moan at the way his breath hits your center.

“Yes, please. Do whatever you want,” You say that because it’s true–he can do whatever he wants to you, and you would be grateful.

“So polite. So eager,” he kisses your thigh, dangerously close to you now, “And so, so wet.”

“Peter, please,” You were begging now, but you didn’t care. You would beg all night for Peter to touch you the way he did in his office. You’ve tried to replicate it, but it’s no use. You’ve been craving that feeling for weeks now, and he seems to be the only one who can get you there.

“So polite. Good girl.”

To your luck, he doesn’t say another word. He finally puts his mouth on your pussy by slurping up all of your juices. You immediately moan, just by the mere knowledge that his mouth is on you. His tongue slips through your folds all the way up to your clit. Peter suckles on it, feeling it throb in his mouth.

“Taste even better than I imagined,” You don’t know if his whispered words were meant to be heard by you, but you heard them. They caused you to clench right as his tongue slotted inside of you, desperate to taste more of you.

His large hands are pressed against the insides of your thighs, forcing you to stay spread for him. You can feel them ache, but nothing feels as prominent as his tongue inside of you. And then, just when it starts to feel good, he makes it feel even better. One of his digits finds your clit, circling pressure until you’re a moaning mess.

“Fuck, Peter. That’s… so good.”

His mouth pops off of you for a second to catch a breath. But he could honestly drown in the taste of you. He smoothly slides a finger to replace where his mouth was, filling you up just like in his office. Now, his mouth is sucking on your clit, needing to make it throb. You feel that feeling you’ve been chasing for the past few weeks building up in your stomach, and you know it’s not going to be long at all until you achieve it.

“Come. Show me what only I can make you do,” Peter grumbles, his words cascading over your body. The deep rumble of his voice tips you over the edge, causing you to come all over his fingers again. After cleaning up some of your orgasm, he lifts his mouth, but doesn’t remove his fingers. He continues to pump them in and out, even though you’re sensitive.

“So fuckin’ tight, and I haven’t even given you a second finger,” one of his fingers taps of your clit, causing you to gasp at how sensitive you are. “Can you give me another?”

“A-Another one?” You’re panting and sweating from just one, but he wants to give you another? Who is this man, and where has he been all your life? “I can’t.”

“Oh, but you can. The body is an amazing thing,” he inserts another finger into your cunt and increases his intensity on your nerves. You gasp again, moaning without caring how loud you are. “See, your clit makes you do that. And I love that.”

“Oh, Peter,” You helplessly whimpered. As he thrusts his fingers inside of you with that charming smile and a hint of a smirk, you already feel your high approaching you again. The sight and the feel of him was just too overwhelming. With each thrust of his fingers, his arms bulged, forearm veins popping deliciously. He was a sight for sore eyes.

“C’mon, baby. Give me another. Want to feel you clench around my fingers. Imagine it’s my cock. Imagine how big my cock is going to feel in your little, tight cunt.”

His words oozed sex. So it only made sense that you came not long after. Your release coated his skilled hand once again, and this time, he seemed satisfied with your two orgasms.

When you could finally catch your breath, you didn’t see him reaching for his belt like most men do. But you really, really wanted him to reach for his belt.

“Are you tired? How do you feel?” The tone in his voice was soft. He was easily able to change from sex Peter to caring Peter. Your heart melted at his concern.

“Tired, but good tired. I’ve only ever had three orgasms, and you just gave me two of them,” You laughed breathlessly while he chuckled. “Would I be selfish to ask for more?”

That made him laugh. It was wholehearted and deep, echoing throughout the room. “Not at all.”

And then he reaches for his belt. You feel your organs twist in that lustful, horny way that they do when he does anything. When all his clothes are discarded and you’re faced with his raging cock, you’re practically drooling. He was right when he said he was big; thick and veiny all along the sides. It seemed unfair, really.

He reaches over to the nightstand and grabs a condom, ripping it and rolling it on easily. You continue to watch him in awe as he strokes himself a few times over the condom. Truth be told, he’s already incredibly hard. The second he slips inside of you he fears he will come on the spot because of how tight you are.

But he leans over your body, elbows holding himself up. You can smell his fresh scent, full of pine and wood.

“Did I tell you you look beautiful tonight?” he whispers next to your ear, his warm breath hitting your skin, which gives you the shivers. Your hands trail up over his body until they’re resting on his broad shoulders. You can feel his tensed muscles working to hold him up right, even though it looks like an effortless task to him.

“Oh shush. But thank you,” His comment makes your face warm, like a candle right next to your cheek.

“You look especially pretty under me,” his cock brushes your cunt, sliding delicately through the folds. You’re not shy of gasping, trying to mentally prepare yourself for his impeccable size.

When he finally pushes the head in, you take a deep breath and release it in a small whimper. You know you’re tight because you haven’t been with anyone in a few weeks. The most you’ve taken are Peter’s fingers, which are nothing compared to his cock.

He waits a few moments before moving again, giving you time to adjust. But you don’t think you’ll ever be able to fully settle with his size. It seems like he’ll always be stretching you out, no matter how many times you take him.

“Breathe, baby,” his words are breathy and wavering, but so sweet. The small nickname gives you the butterflies you haven’t felt for a while. Not the nervous butterflies, but that tingling, excited feeling of fondness. It’s one of your favorite feelings, and you’re so glad Peter gives you them.

You listen to him, taking deep breaths. He takes the opportunity to push himself a bit further until he’s fully inside of you. He stays still, looking at your face as you grow more comfortable. He watches as your expression contorts into desperation, which is what he’s been waiting for.

“You’re so tight, honey. But you’re taking all of me. Knew you could,” Peter reassures you, even as you clench snuggly around him. It’s embarrassingly hard for him to stay still, given how warm you feel wrapping him.

“Please move. Fuck, I need to feel you.”

Slowly, Peter removes himself and then slots in again. You remember to breathe as his movements become less languid and more fluidly quick. Soon, his thrusts have a bit of speed, causing you to scratch his shoulders at the intensity.

“You’re so big… so deep,” Your moan bounces off the walls of the room, making Peter smirk as he continues to move. His cock pins your hips, shutting down your squirming.

“No one’s ever fucked you like this? Never been this good, baby?” A small huff of his breath hit your skin and you were awed. His words alone could get you off, and then he’s pumping himself perfecting inside of you too, just making you go insane. He knows where all the right spots are, lifting up one of your legs with ease to get a better angle. You love that you can just let him take over you without having to work for your orgasm like you’re used to. You’re used to being on top, but it’s evident that Peter just wants to take care of you. He wants you to be satisfied for once, and you’ve never felt so seen. You’ve never felt so… good.

“Y-You’re the only one,” You sigh as you bite your lip, loving the way he's speaking to you. He’s all sultry in tone and even sexier with his words. You believe he has no flaws that are worth noticing.

“S’right. I’m the only one who can make you feel this good. You can only take my cock like this, deep in your cunt,” All you can do is moan and shake as you feel your next orgasm approaching.

Just when you go to reach down to your clit to push yourself even further, he reads your mind and does it for you. His thick finger circles the throbbing bud until you’re arching your back. Your fingers play with the pebbled nipples on your chest as your insides grow more tight. You haven’t had an orgasm feel this intense yet, so it’s hard to anticipate the feeling.

“Gonna come, baby? Come all over my cock, I need to see it. Need to know I’m the only one who can make you feel this way.”

With one entire pump inside of you, you’re coming over Peter’s cock and showing him that he’s the only one. All you can see is his charming, fatigued smile surrounded by stars. His brown hair is tousled and a dash of sweat is above his eyebrows, but God, he’s never looked so fucking hot.

It’s not long after that he’s coming after you, his release filling the condom completely. Peter was trying his best to hold himself for as long as possible. But with you, he discovered it was very difficult. Like he thought, the second he was inside of you, he could’ve come. You’re so slick and warm, just so alluring.

He gets up from the bed to discard the condom in done trash while you lay there in naked awe. You already know that you’re going to be sore tomorrow like the day after the gym.

As Peter comes back, he has a wipe that he uses to clean you up.

“What are you doing?” You ask before he starts to wipe you.

“Cleaning you up. You know, like aftercare. You can go to the bathroom and even take a bath if you’d like,” Peter answers while you sit straight up dumbfounded. “May I?”

“Yeah, yeah go ahead,” You allow him to soothingly clean you while you just accept it. Your mind is still whirling with confusion. Are all guys supposed to do this? Or is he really just that great? “Thank you. I… No one’s ever done that before.”

“Really? God, you were really with some twats, Y/N,” he shakes his head and walks back to the bathroom while you chuckle. It’s funny that you had to go through those two guys in order to get to Peter. Third time’s the charm. “Want to take a bath?”

You ponder for a second. You were tired, but not like you would drown in the tub. Maybe if you had better stamina you would ask Peter to join you, but for now, maybe you just need to sit and think about what’s happening alone. Peter is too good to be true. He’s such a gentleman, he never misses a beat. You hope you’re not overstepping by accepting.

“Can I? Or is it too much—”

“Nonsense, I want you to be comfortable. Now, do you like the right or left side of the bed?” You stare at him in confusion. One, because that was a random question. And two, because when did he put on boxers?

“What?”

“Which side do you sleep on?” You felt your cheeks burn for some reason, and then you realize you’re still naked while he’s semi-dressed.

“Um right, I think. Why?”

“So you can sleep there. You are staying, aren’t you?” Peter’s cheeks tint rosy red, that peek of nervousness shining through. It made you smile because even if he seems too good to be true, there is a little human in there who’s just like you.

“Yes, of course,” You can visibly see his tenseness fade as a small smile grows on his lips.

“I’ll start the bath then get you some clothes then, or else you’ll keep me hard all night.”

Your skin burns, but you feel like that’s not the last time that will happen to you. Not with Peter. No, you know.

—

thank you all for being patient!! i also think this is the longest taglist i’ve ever had, so thank you again!! 💞

taglist:

-> @motheroffae @noa217 @nelly-belly97 @spidermanffh3000 @httpscomexe @mysticdaisy21 @emilyparkerholland @deathst9r @ellenita98 @ellabellabus07 @mrstealuregirl @bisexual-desi @sherlockstrangewolf @madsttx @graywrites20 @bradtomlovesya @princesspannnn @sageisswaggg @purplerose291 @girlbossnancy @lockwood-lover @marzipaanz @eatshitanddiee @invisibletrolleyson-jeremy @lnmp89 @crybabyddl @pretty-npeach @marine-mayday @aerangi @justanotherpasserby-blog @tinafuentes @moniffazictress11 @eywaheardyou @alwaysclassyeagle @raajali3 @likeapplejuicenpeach @winuvs

crossed out= not able to tag

#shawnstyles #tom holland #peter parker #tom holland smut #peter parker smut #tom holland x you #peter parker x you #tom holland x reader #peter parker x reader #tom holland fan fics #peter parker fan fics #tom holland fan fiction #peter parker fan fiction

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genderbendqueen · 4 months ago

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Ftm Danny being held by the giw for months/years and raped multiple times by the for science.

JLA saves him and he ends up in batman/bruces care. Slowly danny starts to heal

Flash forward to a few months later and hes not feeling well constantly sick and exhausted. Bruce gets him checked out and low and behold dannys pregnant.

Learning this danny locks himself in his room and shuts down. Dick who heard danny locked himself in his room but not why ends up climbing up the balcony letting himself in and just sits with the ghost boy.

Dick learns the truth and decides to share his SA that hes never told anyone else about.

After a few hours the two leave the room and talk to Bruce. Together they discuss all options and confirm that no matter what they would support him and after thinking on things Danny decides he cant go through with it.

An appointment is made and followed through, just like promised bruce and dick and there to support him.

#dp x dc crossover #dp x dc #danny phantom #danny fenton #dick grayson #batman #bruce wayne #nightwing #ftm danny fenton #tw vague reference to SA

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logysworld · 24 days ago

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Ouch! | Vi x Reader

You're a tattoo artist and Vi wants a tattoo.

Fluff?, suggestive, kissing, flirty, casual! F!reader.

Music played on the radio beside your table, balancing on the plethora of papers and pens that you had scattered around your table. A sketch was finally coming together, just a little something that popped into your mind after months of an artist's block that kept your sketchbooks dry. It was a small yet profound design, depicting two hands just shy of touch. One hand robotic and slender, ripples of metal flowing around each curve that were shaded perfectly in depth. The other appeared normal at first, but upon closer inspection revealed a tension, fingers taut and desperate, scared, as if the other hand was impossible to reach. You sketched a galaxy around the hands, streaks of the sky and swirling stars surrounding them, like the universe itself was gently forcing the hands apart.

The familiar twinkle of your door chimes echoed as someone entered the shop and you peered over your shoulder briefly, not long enough to see who came in.

"Hey, you got an appointment?" You called out, twisting the dial of the radio to lower the volume of the music with one hand while the other continued sketching.

"Do I need one? You don't look very busy in here." She said mockingly, the thump of her boots echoing around the empty room. She was right, the shop had been really really slow lately, it was just a habit to ask each time someone came in.

"Yeah you're right, have a seat on that leather chair. Could you give me a minute- sorry- what's your name?" You looked over at her as she settled into the seat, a pale and bruised (also muscular) hand running through her dark pink hair.

"Vi. And you? What's your name gorgeous?" she asked, turning sideways on the chair to manspread.

"Y/n." you replied, a blush creeping onto your cheeks. Her ice blue eyes scanned your figure when you stood up, following the sway of your hips as you walked towards her.

"Cute name. You're real cute." She tilted her head at you, a curiosity flashing in her expression.

You laughed. "How can I help you, Vi?"

"I want a tattoo. a small one, right here on my finger." She spoke low, lifting the red sleeve of her jacket and tracing the side of her left pointer finger. You noticed a tattoo on her forearm, which seemed to lead all the way up. You leaned in closer, nodding as you took in her request.

"and," her voice went quieter, almost a whisper.

"and I want it to say 'POW!', with the mark thingy on the end?" You nodded and scribbled in your sketchbook for a minute or two. Her hand dropped while you sketched and her shoulders hung slightly. You looked up at her, feeling somewhat sad at the sudden change in demeanor, leaning in even closer instinctively.

"Okay, I can do that. What's the occasion? Or... would you rather not talk about it?" You had already drawn three versions of the design in your book, facing the page towards her for approval.

"That," she said pointing at the second design, "..and its not much. Just for somethin' important to me. I'd actually rather talk about you, gorgeous." she sat forward in her seat, resting her elbows on her knees while she watched you turn away from her. You playfully scoffed at the quick switch in attitude, brushing off her previous show of vulnerability as to not make her uncomfortable. You started tracing the design on paper using the tray behind you.

"Is that so? What exactly do you want to talk about?" You span back around in your seat, now scooting closer to her and grabbing her hand. She bit on the inside of her cheek at your touch, letting her hand rest in yours as you pressed the stencil into her finger.

"With that pretty voice? And that face? I could talk about anything with you, babe."

"You use that corny line on every girl?" you cringed, smiling, eyes glued to her hand as you applied the design.

You heard a laugh, and her chest dropped further towards you.

"Mmm.. no? I only see one girl infront of me right now, and she's just. So. Fucking. Gorgeous. What else am I supposed to say?" she came closer with each word, warmth emitting from her mouth as she spoke.

"Are you gonna keep calling me that?" you rasped, not realising you were holding onto your breath. You tried to appear unfazed, but the red flush on the tips of your ears already gave Vi the sense of satisfaction she was craving.

"Yeah I might. Why? You like it?" she tucked a stray hair behind your ear, her hand lingering on the skin of your neck just below your jawline. You felt chills. she was so close, whispering as if it was sinful for anyone to hear.

You coughed and shrugged it off, pressing the design hard into her finger, causing her to sit up slightly. Her hand was calloused and rough, scarred, knuckles red and blue from fighting you presumed. A dirty bandage wrapped around her palm and ended at the wrist, frayed at the edges.

"What? Pretty girl doesn't wanna talk now? Did I get you all nervous?" her stenciled hand turned to stroke yours and she looked at you with a pout.

You pulled your hand away. She's a troublemaker for sure.

"Vi, please. I work better when im not under pressure, okay?" you sighed, turning to grab the needle and dipping it into the black ink.

"Alright, so you are nervous. Got it." So cocky, you thought. She winked at you, putting her hand in yours before you could grab it from her.

You couldn't help but laugh. "God."

"Damn, gorgeous. I know I'm all great and that, but you don't have to call me God."

"Please shut up, Vi."

"Whatever you say, pretty."

You brought the needle to her skin and started drawing over the stencil. You licked your lips and she sucked in a breath, despite her having such detailed, and definitely more painful, tattoos already painted across her arms.

Her gaze was like a heat wave, so hot and so harsh you felt like you were about to start sweating. She watched you carefully, not your hands but everything and anything else. She watched how you tilted your head back and forth to see how the tattoo looked from afar, and how your legs squeezed together everytime you did so. You bit and squeezed your lips as you pressed the needle into her. God your lips. She let her gaze lower further down, admiring the perfect tone of your skin. You really were gorgeous. She didn't even realize how long she was staring at you until she felt the sting of antiseptic being wiped across her finger.

"All done!" you beamed, standing up and walking away to clean off your needle.

She inspected the fresh tattoo.

You heard her swallow harshly, and turned to see her sad smile.

Her smile morphed quickly into mischief and she looked up at you. "Someone has fast hands."

"It comes from practice, Vi." you smiled feeling proud, turning back around to put away your equipment into their designated sections.

"Oh yeah?"

She stood up from the chair, taking a few steps forward until the space behind you felt nearly gone.

"I'm sure you practice a lot, huh?" she teased.

She raised her arm, allowing her fingers to dance on your shoulder, falling lower and lower, drawing lines on your bare skin. your breath hitched and you looked at her hand. She dropped it to rest on your hip, gripping at the skin free from your cropped tee.

"You're so pretty. Let me look at you." Her voice tickled your ear, sending a shiver through your entire body.

"Vi." Your heart rate picked up.

"Turn around, gorgeous. Please."

It sounded like a command, desperate, but soft, all at the same time. You turned to face her and she smiled, now placing both hands on your hips and squeezing gently at the start of the bone.

"Look at that pretty face."

She forced you backwards as she stepped closer, letting your lower back hit the table with a pang. Your hands came up through hers and you shyly let them lay on her chest, not daring to look into her eyes. Then, her hands left your hips and came around the backs of your thighs, wrapping and bringing you upwards onto the metal table without struggle, spreading your legs around her as she did so.

"Hmm. So pretty." she cooed. The cool of the metal felt like ice on your skin and you shivered, leaning into her. She caged her arms around you on the table and leaned forward, brushing her nose against yours.

"Can I kiss you, gorgeous?" She asked, barely audible. You looked into her eyes and she stared back at you, so so sweetly. You let yourself lean in closer, your lips touching but not together just yet. She sighed into your mouth, the tension so strong you could feel it on your tongue. When you licked your lips she pushed herself onto you and kissed you, hands now holding your jaw. The kiss was soft at first, her lips caressing yours so gently it sent a wave flutters to your chest and stomach. But, when you wrapped your hands around her neck and moaned into the kiss, she couldn't hold back a grunt. She licked into your mouth, hands on your ass as she pulled you impossibly close. You stayed just like that for a while, but a growing frustration played out in her kisses, eventually taking over her hands which were squeezing so hard you swore they could leave marks. Your back arched in response, letting Vi push you further onto the table until you had to support yourself with one hand, the other tangled in her hair.

The twinkle of your door chimes interrupted the kiss and you hesitantly pulled back, but Vi was determined, lowering her kisses to suck on your jaw and neck. You peered over her shoulder, fighting the hands which pushed you back down.

"Vi, just- one sec-"

A nice looking man stepped inside, looking at the designs on the walls before landing his eyes on you, or Vi covering you more so.

"Vi-, shit," you swore under your breath, her teeth nipping on your collarbone.

"Hey! I have an appointm- oh, SHIT, hey, it's fine! It's fine it's fine I'll come back later, tomorrow! Im so so sorry! Shit!

The door chimes clinked against eachother as he ran out and you cursed to yourself. Vi finally paused on the marking of your skin when you threw your head back in guilt.

"Hey, don't worry gorgeous. Atleast you have me."

"Shut up Vi." You rolled your eyes, bringing your hand up to flick your nail on her ear.

"Ouch!"

Any requests send in the inbox 😛 this is my first ever fic so I hope my fellow arcane family approves ♡ rizz #vi forever

#arcane #arcane x reader #vi x reader #vi #vi arcane #arcane fic #rizz #idk what tags to use #arcane fluff #arcane vi

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jpitha · 6 months ago

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Mercenaries

In the end, it wasn't about what the humans could do that the other sapient groups could not, it was about what the humans were willing to do.

The Gren war was a war of conquest. They had decided that they needed more room.

All of the races of the Coalition had similar environmental needs - the fact that they could live and work together was why there was a Coalition at all. The humans lived at one end of the habitable scale - higher gravity, more varied and intense weather, seasons - while the Sefigans lived at the other. The Gren occupied a space somewhat in the middle. Their word was less dense than the worlds the Humans preferred, and while they did have seasons, they were much less intense. Dex, their homeworld was older, and lighter than Earth.

The Sefigans on the other hand, evolved to thrive practically on a paradise. They had no seasons, their biomes were laughably similar, their days and nights were always exactly the same length. Outside of a few bands near the equator they didn't even have rain. Most humans that visited their world were put off by the sameness of every day. Human ambassadorial rotation was the shortest of the Coalition sapient groups - it was that maddening for them.

Seeing a ripe opportunity, the Gren launched a lightning attack two (earth) years after the humans joined the Coalition. Their large Warfinders would flash to Sefigan colony worlds, enter low orbit and demand surrender. If no surrender was forthcoming, they would bombard one or two cities and then land and take the rest with an invasion until they local authorities surrendered or were eliminated.

The human governments had decided to remain neutral. They were still the new sapient in the Coalition and didn't want to jeopardize their membership by taking the 'wrong' side. But that didn't mean that no humans fought...

****

Olivia, the leader of the group, sat down in the small Sefigan built chair - it was half again too small for her frame. It reminded her of sitting in the chairs in her niece's school. It was tough to have bravado and swagger when trying to contort into a tiny chair, but Olivia did her best.

"Commander Olivia, I still do not understand your offer." The Sefigan administrator said. The Sefigans were a small, furry species. They reminded the humans of something they called a 'teddy bear', though teddy bears did not tend to have 4 centimeter retractable claws.

"It's simple really, Administrator Wollruf. For a reasonable fee, my mercenaries and I will fight on your side. We will bring our equipment, experience and skill and fight the Gren in your name." Olivia tried to lean back, but the front legs of the chair tipped up and she swung her arms wildly to keep her balance. With a thud, the legs slammed back down and she smiled sheepishly.

Administrator Wollruf leaned forward. His office was well appointed, but small. and the humans that Commander Olivia had brought with her tended to loom. He was fascinated by the offer though. "You'll fight, for pay? Like a job?"

Olivia shrugged. "It is a job. Like any other. Some people build ships, others grow food. Me and my Obliterators?" She gestured to the two men behind her who grinned, showing their teeth "We fight."

"Why?"

"Why not? We're good at it, we like it, and it's an opportunity."

Administrator Wollruf's ears twitched and his fur rippled. "Opportunity? For what?"

Olivia smiled and spread her arms welcomingly. "For money. We - me and my team - would very much like to be rich, Administrator Wollruf. Hire us, and you will be safe, and we will be paid; half up front, half after the Gren leave."

"I will consult with the rest of Colonial Administration. We will give you our answer in one solar cycle." He stood. "Thank you for your offer, it is... interesting."

"We will wait one solar cycle for your answer, but-" she held up a finger. "Only one. We have other colonies to visit. If you do not wish to avail yourself of our services, there are other Sefigan colonies that might." Olivia and her two guards turned and left.

One half solar cycle later, the Obliterators were pinged. Administrator Wollruf's colonial government was willing to hire them to protect their colony. The next half cycle was spent negotiating the pay, and the deposit was given.

Not one twocycle later, a Gren Warfinder flashed into the system. As before, they took up station in low orbit, and demanded the surrender of the colony.

However, this time, before the Sefigan colony was forced to reply, Olivia's Obliterators flashed in. Their main ship was a former Imperial Dreadnought - older but well maintained - and was more than a match for the Warfinder. They engaged in pitched battle, and the Obliterators were able to drive off the Warfinder.

Two more Warfinders came within the next three cycles, and each time, the Obliterators drove them off. The Gren hadn't really anticipated any opposition from the Sefigans, let alone the humans, so they barely came prepared to fight. The Obliterators received their payment from the grateful colonial authorities, left a beacon stating that this system was under their protection, and flashed away to the next Sefigan colony for another payday.

The Gren had submitted a formal complaint to the Coalition stating that the humans were illegally 'interfering' in their war. The humans replied back that the Obliterators and any other mercenary groups were not affiliated with the government, and were purely independent operators. When the Gren asked where they got their equipment, the humans shrugged and pointed out that it was not illegal to sell mothballed and surplus equipment.

To their credit, it only took the Gren half a solar year to reach out and see if any human mercenary groups were willing to work for them.

Multiple groups replied back that they were happy to engage in negotiations... for the right price.

#writing #humans are deathworlders #sci fi writing #jpitha #humans are space oddities #humans are space orcs #humans and aliens #humans are space australians #humans are space capybaras #humans are mercenaries

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klausysworld · 1 year ago

Note

Hello hello! Hope you’re doing well :)

Loveeee your style of writing. I have a request )if your are up to it as it’s a hard topic) but would you do one of Klaus x human reader and she miscarries her and Klaus’ baby. I need to feel pain. But could we do a flash forward with a happy ending?

Totally understand if you do not want to write this.

Anyways, hope you have a wonderful day! 🤗

(Story is about miscarrying!!! Please do not read if this will upset/harm you and also know that I am always here to chat 🤍)

The love of a child

Klaus hadn’t wanted the baby to begin with. He thought it would only be a nuisance, a weakness. As usual it was Elijah who convinced him otherwise and forced his brother to house the poor innocent girl he had impregnated.

She had sobbed through the entire night when they brought her ‘home’. Klaus sat and listened to her sobs through the wall while he sighed and thought over his possible decisions.

Once she finally went quiet he went into her room, finding her curled up under the blankets. He gently pulled her head up onto a pillow and tucked her in, kissing her head gently before leaving the room.

Klaus was no stranger to one-night stands but he remembered when he had taken her back to a hotel room that she had been nervous, she had told him it wasn’t something she had done before. He felt a small amount of guilt that she now had a negative attitude towards both him and sex but he shoved that aside and behaved as though it slipped his mind.

He would ignore her when she came down for breakfast, her eyes still red and puffy.

For the first couple weeks he pretended she wasn’t there. Walked past him, almost through her and never spoke directly to her. It was only when Rebekah came and noticed the distant look in y/n’s sad eyes. She had yelled at Klaus that he needed to be looking after this girl, that she was family now.

Rebekah tried to warm Y/n to the idea of having a baby but when nobody was home she had gone to the doctors, she wanted to book an appointment for an abortion but somehow Klaus had figured it out. He dragged her home with little resistance.

She sat in silence as he screamed at her, called her every name in the book. She didn’t move when his hands harshly grabbed her shoulders and he shook her, Rebekah had to shove him off when she walked through the door. Y/n stayed on the floor until Klaus stormed out and went to his art room. Rebekah looked after her and made her feel better, made sure she ate and drank before she went to bed.

It was after Klaus had a few too many drinks that he came into her room. She was sat up and reading a book when he stumbled inside, his angry expression washed away within seconds and he was sighing heavily.

She put her book aside and pulled the covers closer to him when he sat opposite her on the bed. It was quiet for a moment before he began to speak

“I didn’t want to hurt you” he started, glancing between her eyes and his hands. “I’m…I’m sorry” he whispered but she gave little to no reaction. Klaus bit down on his tongue and clenched his hands “I want this baby, with you. I know I said I didn’t and I thought if I left you alone that would be better but- well I was wrong and…and..” he breathed heavier as he struggled to think of the words

“It’s fine” she mumbled and he sighed again

“It’s not” he breathed and she shrugged “I don’t want you to have an abortion” he whispered, his heart feeling tight “but if you truly want to-“

“I don’t” she uttered with a crack in her voice and shook her head, confusion came over him until she whispered her next words: “I thought it would be easier”

He nodded and they fell back into silence. He could sense her discomfort but he didn’t want to leave. He just stayed and watched as she began to grow tired and cold. A question itched at his mind until he asked it

“Do you regret meeting me?” He asked quietly and she shrugged “coming back with me?”

Y/n shifted at the mention and he frowned to himself. “It’s not ideal” she murmured “but it’s happening and we might get something amazing out of it” she mused and he smiled.

“Yeah…we will” he whispered and gently, cautiously placed a hand on her shoulder. She didn’t want to tell him that they were bruised from how he grabbed her earlier and so instead just placed her hand on top of his and smiled back.

Eventually he stood back up and gave a soft kiss on the back of her hand and went to his own room.

They both went to sleep with hoping of a better tomorrow.

He tried his best, brought her some toast upstairs for when she woke and a glass of juice. She was still quiet but thankful as he stayed and spoke to her for a few minutes, finally sharing what was going on in New Orleans and why it was so important that she stay indoors.

He left her be for the rest of the day, Rebekah came and chatted with her for a bit and then Klaus came back with something for her dinner.

This system repeated itself for another couple of weeks before things began to get too much. Kidnappings of Y/n, accusations of Klaus wanting the child to be used to create hybrids, wars between Marcel and Klaus and finally they were moved into the compound. Y/n felt like she was being eaten alive nearly every day. Each of the vampires watched her like a hawk, some with fear of what Klaus would do to them if they went near her, some with disgust that she was carrying a monster of a baby.

Once she began showing, Klaus was much more attentive. Even though the bump was small, it was there. That was enough to spark something inside him, paternal instincts if you will.

He wanted to look after Y/n, be the one she looked to when something went wrong. But taht was the problem, too much was going wrong. Her life and everyone else’s lives were put in danger far too often. She was stressed all of the time and upset almost always.

Klaus spent as much time as he could with her, keeping her snuggled against him while he rest his hand on her tummy and kissed her temple.

“It’s all going to be much better once this one’s born, I promise you my darling” he told her and she believed him, she really did. She would sit and listen to all the ideas he had, the nursery designs and the name possibilities. Sometimes they would talk about what the baby would look like, whose eyes they’re hold have, hair colour and whatnot.

Time seemed to float away when they imagine their child, it was just them. For a moment Klaus would feel human, he would feel warm and he felt love. Love for the baby, and love for Y/n.

He knew how she worked now. He knew when she was hungry and he knew exactly what she craved, he knew when she was feeling affectionate. For once in his life he was happy to hug someone, to dance with her and laugh. He knew when she was crying just because of her hormones or if something had happened.

But the cry he heard that evening was one he would not forget.

He remembers Marcel slamming the door shut behind them all. And then the echo of a broken sob reaching each Mikaelson. Elijah and Rebekah looked towards each other while Marcel frowned. Klaus knew in that instant that something was terribly wrong and so did the others.

And just like that, they were all upstairs. Klaus was breaking through the locked door of her room and others hurriedly followed. Silence overtook them all as they saw her sat on the carpet, dark red staining her thighs and sticking her dress to her. Her face was in her hands as another sob left her.

Rebekah’s hand flew to her mouth and Marcel ushered her out to give Y/n some space.

Klaus was already on his knees and lifting her up “no no no no” he whispered, his eyes watering and throat closing “no it’s okay, it’s okay” he repeated, holding her to his chest.

Elijah looked down as he listened to a non-existent heart beat. Without a word he crouched down beside Niklaus, a hand on his shoulder and the other on the back of Y/n’s head.

Klaus buried his nose into her head as tears flowed down his face. He listened to her cries and Elijah’s gentle voice as he tried to calm her down.

After a while Elijah left to inform Rebekah of what she already knew. They both tried to speak to Klaus, to have him stand up or let her go so they could have her cleaned but he just stayed frozen. Y/n had cried herself unconscious and was barely aware of anything around her, not that she could care any longer.

“You can’t let her wake up covered in blood” Elijah whispered. Klaus sniffled as he slowly lifted his head. Both eyes had pink rings around them and his rose had a rosey glow.

“How could this happen?” He uttered and Rebekah had to step outside to stop herself from crying in-front of him. “She’s so far along” he muttered confused and Elijah nodded

“I know…I’m sorry” he whispered and Klaus wiped his eyes. “It’s all going to be okay, you’ll get through this. None of us are going to leave you alone through this” he tells him firmly but the look in Klaus’s eyes were so distant that Elijah knew he hadn’t heard a word

“She’ll have to deliver it” he mumbled emotionlessly and Elijah’s expression went solemn. Klaus tightened his hold on her as he rested himself over and over in his head.

Elijah silently encouraged Niklaus to stand with Y/n, they carried her to the bathroom where they wiped her thighs clean. She woke halfway through but had nothing to say or do. Klaus tried to speak to her but his voice failed him each time and so Rebekah pushed through and spoke to her instead.

They lowered her into the freshly ran bath and gently cleaned her over. Rebekah and Klaus dressed her as though she were a helpless doll before putting her into Klaus’s bed.

Elijah rang the doctors to bring her in the next day and they all sat within the room where she lay.

Y/n had assumed after that day that they wouldn’t have her around any longer after she had to have the remains of their baby removed. Thought that they would kill her maybe. But instead they kept her so close from then on.

Marcel and his vampires were much kinder, softer. Klaus didn’t care to be ‘king’ and battles were dismissed instead of discussed. Enemies ignores rather than demolished.

It was a quiet life.

She slept in Klaus’s bed each night, curling to his chest and clutching her flat stomach. Each morning he would kiss her face to wake her and apologise for the day to come. He tried to keep her fed the best he could and often bathed with her. In the back of his mind he was treating her how he would have treated their baby.

Holding her, loving her, feeding her, washing her, putting her to bed and carrying her wherever he went.

Elijah and Rebekah could clearly see it happening but neither of them would say anything after seeing the heartbreak of each of their faces.

Marcel however, eventually snapped and told Klaus straight that he couldn’t baby y/n every second of the day.

It resulted in arguments and fights, mental and physical until Klaus couldn’t handle it and broke down into tears. That night Y/n held him instead, stroked his hair and whispered soft phrases to him.

They learnt to lean on each other, care for one another. As time passed by everything slowly became easier, they baby was never forgotten but now a much happier memory rather than a sad one.

The Mikaelsons had been living a rather ‘normal’ life since everything. It was odd to begin with but it was lovely in a way. Rebekah had Marcel, Elijah learnt it was okay to let go a little now that Y/n was there to be with Klaus and Kol was happy with Davina. Everyone was doing well.

But then Y/n got pregnant again. Something that was supposed to be good now terrified her.

Rebekah and Davina tried to convince her it was a great miracle, Elijah and Klaus were insisting on not overwhelming her with everything and she was just petrified.

Klaus was happy. He saw this as another chance, a godshot if you will. But he understood why y/n didn’t want this, he had very similar thoughts and fears to her. Klaus could never know the exact feelings she had when she went through that, the pain, anger, confusion, guilt, he would never know that she blamed herself for so long for losing their child. So he didn’t truly understand her but he tried to. And when she begged him to just abort it so that it wouldn’t happen again he booked her the appointment. He drove her there, held her hand in the waiting room but when her name was called she wouldn’t get up.

“Love?” He whispered, glancing to the doctor who was looking around the room repeating her name “sweetheart?” He murmured softly, sliding off his seat to squat in front of her. She stared straight through him to the floor until the doctor gave up and went back to her room and only then y/n stood, grabbing Klaus’s hand and walking back to the car.

He said little to nothing but kissed the side of her head gently and promised her that this time would be different. Nobody spoke at home, but they were all mentally cheering when Klaus gave them a little smile and took Y/n back upstairs to their room.

He followed her into their bed despite it being mid afternoon and pressed his face to her neck. Y/n turned her head and kisses his lips gently making he hum and smile

“I don’t want it to be a big deal” she whispered and he nodded

“I know” he uttered, hovering over her “just know that I’m happy with this decision but I only what this for us if it’s what you want. Don’t put yourself through anything okay?” He cupped her face as he spoke to her, firmly but softly.

“I won’t…I just…I really want this, I do. I’m just scared…”

“I won’t let you hurt again” he promised and she tried her best to believe him.

He could sense her worry all throughout the pregnancy, the fear and the pain hitting at her constantly. He tried his very best to soothe her, and to help her look at the future rather than panic over the past.

And then when she gave birth to a beautiful and healthy baby, none of those worries mattered. She held their bundle of light close to her chest at all times, night and day.

Klaus grew jealous fast which made her laugh and reluctantly share their child. They would lay with their little one in between them, listening to the babbling and clapping.

Neither of them realised the amount of love they would feel, for their child and for each other. This baby sealed them together, promised them both an eternity of happiness and peace.

Family, and somewhere to always call home.

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deliciousangelfestival · 11 months ago

Text

Let Me Love You | 1 - B. Barnes

Character: college!Bucky x Female!Reader

Summary: On a mysterious, rainy night, Bucky witnesses a distressing encounter involving his crush.

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Chapter 1, Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 , Chapter 7 , Chapter 8.

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more.

Fast-food restaurants are always the quick choice for exhausted students after learning a lesson.

Today, WHAM Burger near St. Louis University is bustling with customers, mostly college students from the university. The aroma of sizzling burgers and the familiar hum of conversations fill the air.

Inside the restaurant, everyone stands in line at the cashier or fiddles with the self-order machine. Even the drive-thru is buzzing with activity. Most cars have to wait, but for Bucky, who is behind the wheel, the wait is inconsequential. However, his friends, Steve and Sam, seem less patient.

“Their double cheeseburgers are delicious. But eating them three times a week? I'm going to hate my favorite food, Bucky,” Steve remarks from the back seat.

Bucky rolls his eyes. “There are other choices, like salads.”

Sam laughs, fingers dancing on his phone screen. “You'd have to put a gun to Steve's head if you want him to eat a salad.”

Bucky chuckles, his eyes focused on the road. Sam and Steve sigh, observing their friend who has become a love fool. Almost every week, they find themselves at this fast-food haven. There's a particular reason Bucky insists on coming here.

Finally, their car inches forward to the cashier's window. Bucky rolls down the window and is greeted by a familiar face.

“Welcome to WHAM Burger. Oh, hi, guys!” Your bright voice cuts through the air, and the trio of friends can't help but smile.

“Hi, Y/N,” Sam and Steve chime in, well aware that Bucky becomes speechless when he sees you.

You flash them a genuine smile, recognizing the familiar faces. Your fingers swiftly input their usual order. “You guys just got back from the chess club?”

Bucky nods, attempting to say more but finding his words stuck. He never anticipated becoming a lovefool, but he fell for you the first time he laid eyes on you.

It was on a snowy day when Bucky first saw you. A girl, squatting down to rescue a stray cat. That quiet moment led to him forgetting his chess tournament appointment, instead accompanying you to the nearby shelter.

You, a stranger in the area, had just landed a part-time job at the fast-food joint. Bucky admired your selflessness and love for animals. Even though you couldn't adopt the cat, he assured you someone would. In gratitude, you treated him to hot chocolate, and in that instant, Bucky fell in love.

However, his friends later shattered his newfound joy, revealing that you had a boyfriend, the quarterback, Lloyd Hansen, and that you were childhood sweethearts.

Back in the present, your cheerful voice snaps Bucky out of his reminiscence. “Thank you so much. Please come again.”

“Yes, yes, I will,” Bucky mumbles, grabbing the card from your hand. The slight touch sends a jolt through him, and he can't help feeling like a creep.

As Bucky drives away from the drive-thru, Sam and Steve enjoy their fries, teasing Bucky about moving on.

“Dude, you need to move on. If not, both of us are going to gain weight,” Steve says, munching on his cheeseburger.

Bucky rolls his eyes. "I didn't invite you." Despite not being explicitly invited, the three always go home together since they live in the same apartment building, and WHAM Burger is conveniently on the way.

Bucky huffs, but he can't stay mad at them. After all, they've been his closest friends since high school. Despite their advice, he can't fathom why his feelings for you continue to grow. If there's a love cupid, Bucky can't help but blame it, as the cupid seems to have misfired its arrow onto the wrong target.

In the rearview mirror, Sam and Steve exchange knowing glances, silently hoping their friend will soon find a way to move on from his unrequited love.

Reader P.O.V

“Shit… shit.” You blame yourself for not bringing an umbrella with you, even though since the morning, you noticed the clouds had a dark color.

You protect the food bag to make sure it doesn't get wet. You had just finished your shift when your boyfriend, Lloyd, texted you to bring food to his practice.

Lloyd and you have been together since childhood, crowned as king and queen at prom night. Everyone says that both of you are a sweet couple.

Lloyd got a full scholarship for his athletics and is studying law. Meanwhile, you received half a scholarship. St. Louis is a prestigious university with famous alumni.

It has been your dream to study here, and you also want to stay with Lloyd. However, growing up, you learned to be responsible on your own, managing your own money and working.

Between studies, clubs, and part-time jobs, you and Lloyd used to be close, but now, it's getting difficult to meet. Lloyd has become busy with practices and interviews since he brought a championship to the university.

But you want to make this relationship work.

When the bus stops in front of the university, you have to run to the university gym.

You sprint as fast as you can despite the heavy rain.

Lloyd is lifting weights when he sees you soaking wet. He grabs a towel and dries your hair. “Thanks, babe. You came all the way here.”

You reply, “It's alright.”

“Has the food arrived?” A female voice is heard from behind you.

You turn around and see a girl with perfect hair, wearing a training outfit that accentuates her body curves.

You glance down at yourself still wearing your work uniform and a jacket.

Lloyd says, “Yup. Here you go,” as he hands the food bag to Nicky. She's the daughter of the university football sponsor. Lloyd have mentioned her name a few times. But everytime you hear her name, you don't feel secure.

You clench your fist, watching their interaction. Lloyd gives Nicky the food you brought with effort through this heavy rain, and Nicky shows a shy smile towards him.

Your heart sinks as you catch the subtle exchange of glances between them. The smile that Lloyd reserves for you is now being shared with someone else. It feels like a stab in the chest, a betrayal you didn't see coming.

Lloyd looks at you. “Could you wait for a while? We will go back together.”

You put on a fake smile that you've mastered at work. “No, it's alright. I came here with an Uber car. The driver is waiting for me.” You lied; your phone battery had already died.

Lloyd nods. “Alright, text me when you've arrived.”

“Okay.”

You turn and walk faster to avoid the eyes of the bystanders. You don’t want your effort to be judged.

When you get out from the building, the rain is still pouring heavily. You grit your teeth. Is this your unluckiest day?

You run faster to the bus stop while crying.

“Y/N.”

You think your ears have mistaken you. With this heavy rain, you hear someone call your name.

It's impossible.

“Y/N!”

The voice becomes clearer. You turn around and see the silhouette getting closer. He comes running while holding an umbrella.

“Bucky?”

Bucky was just walking out from the library. He was in the chess club when he saw you running from the university gym. He wonders what the heck you are doing alone in this heavy rain.

When he sees your eyes red and your nose, it seems like you've just cried. The same happened when he found out you had a boyfriend; his eyes and nose were red too.

And he sees you coming out of the gym; that means the cause is related to Lloyd.

But now he can't let you be like this. He gives you his umbrella and runs back to the library.

You are stunned while holding the umbrella. Bucky suddenly appears, giving you the umbrella, and runs away.

You try to catch up with him, but he runs too fast. You can only shout, “Bucky, thank you!”

Tomorrow, you have to say thank you to Bucky. At least today, someone cared for you. You feel gratitude and confusion at the rain-soaked bus stop. Bucky's unexpected act of kindness adds another layer to your swirling emotions.

The next day, when you went to find Bucky, he wasn't in class. Both of you studied business.

Steve told you, "Bucky got a fever, so he stayed at home." You felt guilty when you heard that because the reason why he got sick is because of last night; he gave you his umbrella.

You asked Steve, "Can I visit him?" Steve couldn't believe what he just heard, but if you came to visit Bucky, perhaps his fever would be gone in a second. "Sure, I'll give you the address," he said, raising an eyebrow in surprise.

You nodded appreciatively, saying, "Thank you," with a sincere smile.

‘Cough, cough.’

Bucky poured water into a glass. He had a fever and a sore throat because of the rain last night. The relentless downpour seemed to echo the storm within him, a storm fueled by the regret of not bringing you home with his car. He couldn't shake the thought that if he had, perhaps he wouldn't be in this sickly state.

‘Knock. Knock.’

He opened the door, never expecting to find you standing there. You held a steaming bowl of hot soup in your hands. “Bucky, I’m sorry. Because of me, you got sick.”

Bucky shyly answered, the lines of worry etched on his face. It wouldn't matter if he had to cross a sea of fire; he would do it for you. “No, it’s not because of you.” He grabbed the food you brought, appreciating the warmth it brought, both physically and emotionally. “Thank you. You didn’t have to do this.”

You shook your head, a genuine smile gracing your face. “You really helped me last night. Thank you.”

Feeling restless and vulnerable in his weakened state, Bucky looked at you nervously and said, “I have something to tell you.”

Author Note:

Hey friends,

If you've been enjoying the content, I've set up a Ko-fi account. Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating. Only if you feel like it!

Here's the link: Ko-fi

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deathworlders-of-e24 · 3 months ago

Text

Danny, Security Chief

Part 2

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Watching his team get shot all morning was starting to get depressing in Danny’s opinion. It’d started out pretty entertaining, but…

The security personnel had been split up into two teams, just as Danny had planned, giving them an even mix of officers in each. He’d appointed the highest ranking member the leader of team 2 and allowed them to train however they pleased in order to compare notes later. And taking a tip from Captain Skitch, Danny decided to test out his crew in the GRID.

Early into the Earth’s time as a GAIL member, the human race had gotten its hands on the Padrino’s environmental code, something they used for data storage if Danny remembered correctly. But when the Humans got a copy of it, they used the code for anything they could think of, and the greatest breakthrough that came of it was what would be known as the GRID, a totally holographic environmental simulation, used for anything from military training to video games. Amazingly, those two things weren’t that different these days. It’s probably what was fueling the Deathworlder rumors. It couldn’t be helping, to say the least.

Danny had booked the GRID environment room for training purposes, and at first the team had been doing alright, playing to their strengths. However, they didn’t seem to get how to work as a team, as a single unit. After the first round it had all be downhill from there if he’d been honest. He understood that it was just day one, but Danny figured if he could just get a running start, so to speak, then the rest of the mission would be smooth sailing.

The team filed out of the GRID and stood at attention. Team 1 was made up 2 Quintin named Ritz and Coola, siblings, a Doun from the same detail Danny had been in at the embassy on Earth named Homet, and someone from the ‘living stone’ species, the Sed, named Grite. The Sed weren’t actually stone, but they did have a rigid exoskeleton and massive calcium and keratin deposits throughout their bodies, giving them the appearance of gray marble.

All four stood in a line, awaiting their evaluation. Danny looked them over as he walked the line, hands behind his back.

“Anyone know what’s going wrong in there?” He asked. Grite stepped forward, looking annoyed.

“The setting are too high, commander. There are only 4 of us and dozens of them. It’s clearly a no win situation.”

Homet snorted, and Grite glared at him. Ritz and Coola took a step back to get out of the way. Danny hated to think this on just day 1, but Grite was being pretty detrimental to morale. Every round in the GRID he just ran out first and became a bullet sponge instead of even attempting to make a plan with the others.

“Ensign Grite, why do you think the simulation isn’t winnable? I’ve been in this exact situation before on Earth, and as you can see, I’m still here.”

Grite looked at him and snorted.

“Prove it.”

Danny was impressed at how fast Homet moved to the controls in his freezer suit, imputing new parameters into the machine.

Guess he kinda needs this, huh, Danny thought. Homet and he went way back, so he figured he knew the guy pretty well. He also figured a stiff like Grite would get on people’s nerves after a while, especially the Doun man.

“Homet, turn it up a bit too man, gimme a challenge.”

“You’ll scare them if you go too hard in there you know.”

“They can take it. Give them a show.”

Danny walked into the GRID simulator. The room was dark, save for a single blinking red light on the wall. A synthesized voice sounded from speakers built into the room.

[Simulation beginning in 30 seconds. Please select equipment.]

“E24, American Army Ranger standard issue.”

In a flash of ‘pixels’, Danny was wearing army fatigues, carrying a rifle in his arms with a pistol on his hip. Strapped to his flak jacket was a knife, a few extra magazines, and two grenades. He felt almost snug in the holographic armor.

A less synthetic voice sounded in the room, though it was a little more gravelly.

“Don’t like energy weapons commander? Got a little too much kick for you?” Grite sounded like he was smirking, Danny was calling it.

“Homet, if Grite talks again you have my full permission to shoot him. Now set the Pirate protocol to max and hit shuffle on my playlist.”

Homet laughed as he hit the button.

“Good luck commander.”

[Simulation: Pirate Boarding Party beginning in 10 seconds]

Danny took a deep breath, turned his hat backwards, and breathed out as the music started.

Dubstep.

Nice.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When asked later, the security team under Chief Ducane would say they didn’t understand what they saw. The simulation itself was simple, the Pirate Boarding Party dropped you in a random part of the Noah, under attack from hostile forces trying to take over the ship.

The part they didn’t get was that Chief Ducane tore through them like they were made of paper. First hostile came through a door 10 meters ahead of the Chief, and they were taken out before the door was all the way open, almost tore in half by the ballistic weapon he was wielding. Then a squad of three came from around a corner, but Ducane barely moved except to keep walking forward, loosing three short bursts from his rifle, felling the enemies the moment they came into his sights.

Another pirate came out of a door, using a simulated crew member like a human shield. That one gave pause to Danny’s advancement. He set his weapon down for a moment and put his hands up. The Pirate shoved the crew member aside and pointed their ray at him, but was immediately blown full of holes from Danny’s sidearm, old west style.

“Get to safety,” was all he said to the holographic crew mate, who nodded and ran off. Danny went back to work.

Wave after wave of hostile forces came out of the woodwork, firing holographic energy weapons and throwing ion or plasma explosives, and Danny Ducane destroyed them all. An entire platoon came at him and he barely slowed down. The security crew even questioned if their commander remembered this was only a training exercise, given that he was roaring and taunting the holographic enemies.

“Sister, do you think he knows they’re not real and they can’t actually kill him?” Ritz asked.

“Yes, I’m sure he knows they can’t kill him, brother,” Coola replied, in awe of the chief. “We are recording this, yes?” Her brother nodded.

“Haven’t seen him in a while,” Homet said. “He…he’s actually better than the last time I served with him.”

Grite said nothing, just a tight grimace on his stony face as he watched the simulation unfold.

Meanwhile, in the GRID, Danny had finally run out of ammunition, and there was one Pirate left. This one was bigger than the others, with better armor and a blaster. Danny threw down his rifle and charged, knife drawn, roaring like a berserker as he went.

The pirate shot high, clearly aiming for his head. Dimly, Danny knew someone, somewhere had said ‘humans only die if they get shot in the head’, and quietly laughed to himself that that little detail had made its way into the coding for the simulation. He’d seen the shot coming a mile off.

Danny dropped to his knees and skid the rest of the way, slashing the pirate’s leg as he slid past. The hologram howled and dropped to one knee while Ducane spun and buried the knife in the creature’s side, striking vitals. The pirate ‘died’ almost immediately. It dropped to the floor and evaporated into a cloud of ‘pixels’. Danny stood up, breathing hard, but grinning.

Hotem and the Quintins ran in, congratulating him, saying things like “Commander that was amazing!” and “I’ve never seen anyone fight like that!”

“That’s the ‘Ducane the Destroyer’ I remember,” Hotem said, clapping him on the back.

Danny noticed immediately that Grite was still in the control room, watching them. His face seemed conflicted. After a moment, Grite left the GRID all together.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was almost the end of the shift when Grite made his way into Danny’s office. Danny had been eying the clock for a while by then, wondering when the Sed was going to come explain the request he’d put in.

Grite walked in through the sliding door and stood at attention.

“Ensign Grite, reporting.”

“Go ahead ensign, say your piece.” Danny figured he knew where this was going.

“You received my request to transfer to the other shift. I was not aware I was required to list a reason.”

“You’re not, but humor me anyway.”

The Sed had that conflicted look on his face again, and Danny now realizing it was more like apprehension. Possibly even…anger?

“It doesn’t seem necessary to have me on this shift, what with your…capabilities.”

“Why do you think so?”

“Sir, I really don’t think-”

Danny held up a hand to stop him. Grite’s body language was stressed, full of tension, even with the exoskeleton Danny could see the telltale shake of blood pressure rising.

“Grite, you don’t have to like me. Hell, you can even hate me if you want. But if you’re asking me to change personnel schedules for you after just the first day, you’d better have a good reason.”

Grits looked at him with clear disgust.

“I am Sed. We are Borin, Highest Peaks, bred to be warriors. We conquered our world, and are trained since birth to be the best. And you humans come here, no birth advantages, nothing, but you do alone what we can not do in entire squads. You…embarrass us.”

Danny just looked at him for a moment. He certainly hadn’t expected all that. He’d offended him by… one-upmanship?

“So what you’re saying is-”

“What I’m saying is put me on the other security team.”

Danny sighed. Clearly this wasn’t going to go anywhere. Not anywhere productive, anyway.

“Fine. Request granted, Ensign Grite.”

Grite stood there rigid, nodded, and left the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day, or cycle as it was called in space, went smoother. The change in personnel seemed to bring the team’s morale up.

“Good shot, Hayte!” Hotem called out to the new Indroprime on the team, Grite’s replacement. The simian like young man was using his excellent agility go jump and dive through holographic enemy fire. Danny thought that despite the reason why, it would end up being a good decision to send Grite to the other team, for everyone.

Danny cocked his pistol and dove into the fray with his team.

“Form up on me guys, we’re advancing!”

“Follow the Destroyer!” shouted the Quintin siblings in unison. Homet howled with laughter and Danny grinned, feeling the rush of adrenaline starting to pour into his veins.

This would be a good team.

Danny would make sure of it.

#deathworlders of e24 #humans are deathworlders #humans are space oddities #humans are space orcs #humans are strange #humans are space australians #humans are weird #earth is space australia #humans are insane #humans are terrifying

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gliphyartfan · 4 months ago

Text

@yanderelinkeduniverse @stars-for-thought @imprisioned-in-the-hole @screaming-until-god-hears-me @crestfallenmermaidan @ice-cream-writes-stuff @linked-heroes @eternadreeblissa

Uuuuh…

…Hi :D

…I’m sorry? 🥲

——

One day, a man realized he felt haunted for some time..

For weeks, the man had been aware of a presence that lingered on the edges of his awareness, like a shadow just beyond his reach.

It was subtle at first, a faint prickling on the back of his neck when he walked through the town, the sensation of being watched when he was alone in his study.

He brushed it off, passing it off as paranoia, the result of long hours and late nights.

But the feeling simply grew.

Growing stronger with each passing day. It was as though a pair of eyes were always on him, observing his every move.

He would catch a flicker of movement in the corner of his eye, a glimpse of a small figure darting into the shadows, but when he turned to look, there was nothing there. Just the empty street, bathed in the dim glow of lanterns.

He told himself it was nothing, just his imagination running wild. But the sensation was relentless.

It was preventing him from getting anything done.

He had an..appointment with the Trader yet he simply couldn’t make the visit with these unseen eyes following him.

In the following days, He began to see the figure more frequently—a young boy, always at a distance, always watching.

The boy never approached, never spoke. He was just there, a silent observer on the edge of the man's life.

The man, of course, tried to ignore it, tried to carry on with his routine as if nothing was wrong.

He continued his day work, and indulged in his hobbies, but the boy was always there, a constant, silent observer.

Sometimes, the man would feel the boy's eyes on him when he was at his most vulnerable, in the dead of night, when he was alone with his thoughts.

He would feel the gaze boring into him, cold and unyielding, as if the boy could see through everything he presented to the world.

As the days turned into weeks, the man's unease deepened. He started avoiding places where he had seen the boy, changing his routine to shake the feeling of being watched.

But it didn’t help. The boy seemed to anticipate his every move, always appearing wherever the man went.

It was almost as if he was toying with him. Yet he didn’t do anything besides observe.

The man’s nerves began to fray. He found himself glancing over his shoulder constantly, his heart racing at the slightest sound.

His sleep became restless, plagued by nightmares where the boy was always there, watching, waiting.

The feeling of being watched never left.

One night, after a particularly long day, the man stumbled out of a tavern, the alcohol dulling his senses.

He wandered out of town, seeking the quiet of the forest to clear his mind.

But even there, among the towering trees and the thick fog, he couldn’t escape the boy’s presence. He saw a flash of green in the distance, heard the faint rustle of leaves

The man shook his head.

But the fog seemed to thicken, wrapping around him like a shroud.

The moon offered no light, plunging the forest into a darkness that made even the shadows just a foot away from him feel solid and endless.

He stumbled forward, trying to push past the fog, trying to escape the oppressive silence.

His thoughts a jumbled mess of confusion and fear. The alcohol in his system dulled his senses, making it difficult to think clearly, but the feeling of being watched had never been more intense. The forest seemed to close in around him, the trees looming like dark sentinels, their branches twisting into unnatural shapes that clawed at the sky.

He tried to focus, tried to convince himself that it was just the drink, that there wasn’t anything really there, but the sensation of those unseen eyes was impossible to ignore. He could feel them, cold and piercing, tracking his every movement.

The man’s heart pounded in his chest, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. Every rustle of leaves, every snap of a twig sent a fresh wave of terror through him.

As he stumbled deeper into the woods, the fog grew thicker, swirling around his feet and obscuring the ground beneath him.

The trees seemed to shift in the darkness, moving closer, as if conspiring to trap him. His footsteps echoed eerily in the silence, the sound of his own heartbeat loud in his ears.

He tried to steady himself, muttering under his breath. “It’s just… just the fog… just the drink… nothing more… nothing…”

But even as he spoke, he could feel those eyes. They were closer now, more intense.

He could almost hear the boy’s silent footsteps behind him, could almost feel the cold breath on the back of his neck. He spun around, but there was nothing—just the oppressive fog and the dark outlines of trees.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw it—a flash of green, a pair of eyes staring at him from the shadows. The man froze, his blood turning to ice in his veins.

The eyes were fixed on him, unblinking and full of something he couldn’t quite decipher. It wasn’t malice, but it wasn’t benign either. It was as if the boy was studying him, dissecting him with those cold, eerie eyes.

Panic seized him. He stumbled backward, tripping over a root and nearly falling. His breath came in short, frantic gasps as he struggled to tear his gaze away from those eyes, but they held him captive, paralyzing him with fear.

The man’s mind raced, trying to make sense of what was happening, but the alcohol and the terror clouded his thoughts.

With a burst of adrenaline, he turned and ran, pushing blindly through the fog, desperate to escape those eyes. His feet pounded against the earth, his breath ragged and harsh in his throat.

The forest seemed to close in around him, the trees becoming a blur as he sprinted through the undergrowth. But no matter how fast he ran, the feeling of being watched never left him.

He could still feel the boy’s eyes on him, could still hear the faint sound of footsteps behind him. He didn’t dare look back, didn’t dare slow down. But the forest was unforgiving, and the fog made it impossible to see where he was going.

His foot caught on something—a root, a rock, he couldn’t tell—and he went down hard, the ground rushing up to meet him.

He hit the earth with a thud, the air knocked out of his lungs. Pain shot through his body, and for a moment, he lay there, stunned and disoriented. His mind screamed at him to get up, to keep running, but his body refused to move, paralyzed by fear and exhaustion.

Why were they after him?

What did they want?

He didn’t have time to dwell on it. He had to keep moving, had to—

A soft hum pierced the silence, echoing through the fog. The man froze, every muscle tensing as his eyes darted around, searching for the source.

Noise came again, closer this time, followed by a voice, light.

“He’s getting tired, isn’t he?” the voice commented.

“Of course he is,” another voice chimed in, this one colder, more detached. “They always do.”

The man’s breath hitched in his throat as he tried to locate the speakers.

But the trees were too thick, the darkness too deep.

He couldn’t see them, but he could…could feel their eyes burn his skin.

Closing in, circling him like vultures.

He scrambled to get up, but pain in his calf erupted when he tried to pull his leg forward, the pain pinning him in place.

“Going somewhere?” the voice spoke out.

The man’s heart nearly stopped as he looked over his shoulder and saw them—four boys.

Other than their clothes from what he could spot in the dark, they were identical in every way, the same tousled hair, the same wide eyes, the same faces.

But their eyes… their eyes were wrong, wrong for any child to wear. The way their faces held such different expressions.

They stared at him, casually, sadly, uncaringly, angrily.

“Wha—what…?” the man stammered, his voice shaking as he looked down and saw thick branch sticking out of his leg, keeping him in place.

Children…

…Children had been chasing him this whole time.

This…

This was utterly ridiculous.

Yet one of the children, the green one, crouched down, resting his chin on his hands as he studied the man with curiosity. “You look surprised,” he said, tilting his head. “What, did you expect someone…older?”

The man’s mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out.

His mind was reeling, unable to process the horror before him. How could this be?

How could four children—siblings from the looks of it-be the ones who had been hunting him?

Was this some kind of joke?

“Trying to figure out what’s happening? It won’t matter in a moment.” the cold voice asked, its owner, the purple one, stepping closer.

His uncaring eyes held an eerie calmness that made the man’s skin crawl.

“But to give you some insight, We’ve been following you all night,” He added, looking down at the man with a wide closed smile. “…as well as the past month…lots of hard work…” He brought a hand up and tapped chin while looking up.

“But I guess it’ll be worth it.” Looking back down at the man. “I suppose this is all unexpected for you, isn't it? Being the one chased? Not the chaser?”

The corner of his mouth twitched upward for a second before returning to its neutral position, “You always were fond of that part of your hunting hobby, weren’t you-the chase I mean.”

The man shook his head violently, confused, his breath coming in panicked gasps. “Please… I don’t… I didn’t do anything to you…”

The air around them became heavy. The man’s breath quickened as he felt the weight of the boy’s gaze, each step the boy took toward him making his heart pound harder.

“You think we don’t know about you?” Blue snarled, his voice low and seething with anger. “You think we haven’t heard what you’ve done? The lives you’ve taken?”

The man’s eyes darted between the four boys, each one staring at him with a level of focus and cold calculation that seemed impossible for children. The realization that they knew something about him—something dark and hidden—sent a shiver down his spine.

“I— I swear,” he stammered, his voice trembling with fear. “I didn’t mean to… It wasn’t supposed to be like this…”

“Well, you’re right about that.” Vio’s expression darkened as he stepped forward, his dagger gleaming ominously in the dim light. “Enough of this. We’re not here to listen to your excuses.”

The man tried to pull away, desperation clawing at his insides, but the pain in his leg kept him pinned to the ground. He could feel the cold earth beneath him, the dampness seeping into his clothes, mixing with the sweat of his fear.

“Please,” he begged, his voice breaking. “Please, I’ll do anything. Just… just let me go.”

Green knelt beside him, his face inches away from the man’s. “Anything?” he repeated, his voice soft and sweet, like a child asking for a treat. “Anything at all?”

The man nodded frantically, tears streaming down his face as he grasped at the faint hope that they might spare him. “Yes! Anything! I’ll give you whatever you want, just please don’t hurt me.”

The boys exchanged glances, a silent communication passing between them. Finally, Red sighed and looked down at the man with a mixture of pity and disdain.

“You misunderstand,” he said quietly. “This isn’t about what you can give us. It’s about what you’ve tried to ruin for us.”

The man’s eyes widened in confusion and terror. “Ruin? I… I don’t understand…”

Blue’s anger flared again, his small hands clenched into fists. “Of course scum like you wouldn’t understand,,” he hissed. “I wish we could take our time with you.”

“There will always be others Blue.” Vio said calmly.

Blue scoffed.

Without another word, Vio moved smoothly, his dagger flashing in the pale light as it cut through the air. The man’s choking filled the silent forest, a raw, desperate sound that faded into the night as quickly as it had begun.

——

Four had never thought of himself as someone who was good at pretending.

What was the point? He wasn’t one for hiding and faking his thoughts.

But the moment he woke up to the sounds of his Grandfather calling him…

Far away from the others..

From Her…well…

He quickly learned the value of simply….playing his part.

If asked, he would reminisce about exactly what had happened on his journey.

The festival, the sealed chest being opened by Vaati, Zelda being turned to stone…

Ezlo…

Yet…what he would not have mentioned was that it was as if he had been guided along by his memories like a doll.

Seeing from someone else’s eyes.

Every single step already having been done once before, his expression perfectly suiting each moment.

The perfect actor.

He would have hated it if he had felt much of anything during that time.

He could not split (why couldn’t he split? He was One but not Whole, Singular when he should have been perfectly fragmented…whycouldn’thesplit-)

Yet, it was as if his colors still whispered in his mind, each one speaking their own thoughts on the matters happening.

But he hated them��(they weren’t right. They didn’t fit. They should have surged forth, demanding for him to split, demanding that he faced what he pushed aw-nothing was right…nothing was utterly right…)

‘This is an illusion.’

‘This shouldn’t be real.’

‘Where are the others?’

‘Where is She?’

(Shut up….shut up shut up shutupshutupshutup-)

Even Ezlo, perched atop his head in the form of a hat, never noticed anything wrong.

Or perhaps he had…perhaps he had seen it all yet merely ignored it.

Link didn’t care to know.

To Ezlo, Four was simply a dedicated boy, focused on his tasks, eager to right the wrongs that had brought Ezlo to where he was.

But Vaati…

Such a keen eye….

Even in his corrupted form, saw through the masks he presented to everyone.

The dark sorcerer couldn’t quite place what was different, but during a moment when Ezlo and him were purposely separated (such a change to what he once remembered…), he had admitted that something about Four unsettled him.

And also intrigued him.

Perhaps it was the way Four’s eyes seemed to glaze over when he wasn’t speaking, or how his actions were too precise, too controlled—as if they were rehearsed. Or simply like a puppet on a string.

To be moved along as intended.

Even when the journey came to an end and Four and Ezlo said their goodbyes, Four’s performance never faltered.

He smiled to those he cared for, nodded, and spoke the right words, playing his role to perfection.

It was the only thing that made sense. (Because it meant he didn’t need to focus on what he-…)

This was all…so confusion. (WhatcausedthisHewantedtogobackWhatcausedthisWhatcausedthisWhatcausedthis-)

And beneath the surface, the whispers of his colors grew louder, more insistent, questioning, doubting.

(But they weren’t there. Not yet. So he ignored those voices made from illusions. Voices who should have been there already but weren’t-)

He felt empty.

A doll who played his part.

Even when he wanted to silence the loud voices that tried to speak to him when he left the house.

Even when he was touched or tugged by others. (Their touch causing his skin to crawl, their voices making him desire to claw off his ears.)

Yet the world seemed to finally deem his performance in his role to be enough for a reward.

His precious sword…

It wasn’t until he regained his Four Sword that he felt anything at all. (Because it was always his. Not even the others could deny such a fact. It was his sword. HIS. It was what made him exactly as he should be. And it’s been so..so..long since he felt right…)

As he drew the blade, the world shifted, and the sob that escaped him as he felt the Magicks invade his being and pull him apart was one of relief.

He could feel it as it happened, as he split into his four selves…

Red, Blue, Green, and Vio.

The relief of feeling something, of being something that wasn’t singular, was enormous.

He would have even gladly accepted agony if it meant his being was put to rights.

Yet once he was no longer One but Four…

He couldn’t deny what he had rejected for so long…

Almost immediately, the fragments began to lash out at one another, voices raised in anger and accusation.

“It’s your fault she’s gone!” Red shouted, his eyes wild with desperation as tears flowed immediately.

“She wouldn’t have wanted to stay away if you hadn’t been so careless!” Blue snapped back, his fists clenched.

“Stop it, you two! We need to focus on the most important issues here” Vio’s voice was cold, but his hands trembled as he gripped his sword.

Each one was desperate to place the blame elsewhere, to find some semblance of control in the chaos that had consumed them.

They wanted something else, someone else, to be the reason things went wrong…

They didn’t want it to be them.

Red sobbed, his eyes wild with desperation, tears streaming down his face. His small hands trembled, clutching his sword as if it were the only thing keeping him grounded.

Blue’s expression twisted with fury as he turned on Red, his fists clenched tight, the knuckles white. “Don’t blame me for your own mistakes” he spat, stepping closer, his eyes narrowing with a mix of anger and hurt. “You were supposed to make her happy, and you failed! You should have been better!”

Red recoiled at the words, but his sorrow quickly turned to defiance. “Me? You were the one who pushed her away when it mattered! You should’ve been better, should’ve done something to ease her heart! But you didn’t!”

“You don’t know that! None of us do!” Green’s voice cut through the argument, sharp and defensive, though there was a wavering uncertainty in his tone.

He stood between them, trying to play the mediator, but his hands shook as he spoke, betraying his own doubts. “We don’t know what really happened! We don’t know if—”

“If she’s even still alive?” Vio finished, his voice cold and cutting. The words hung in the air, heavy and unbearable. Vio’s grip tightened around his sword, his usually composed demeanor cracking under the weight of his own fears. “We need to focus on the most important issues here,” he said, his tone forcibly calm, but the tremor in his hands belied the control he tried so desperately to maintain.

“No!” Red cried, shaking his head violently, his tears falling faster. “S-She’s alive! She has to be! We can’t give up on her!”

“Red, you’re being naive!” Blue snapped, frustration and fear mingling in his voice. “You saw what happened, heard what…what (y/n) said to us… Do you really think she’ll just come back to us? That she’ll stay with us after what we did?”

Green hesitated, caught between the two sides, his heart torn. “But…what if we’re wrong? What if she’s waiting for us? What if we can still fix this?”

Vio’s eyes darkened as he turned away from them, his voice low and dangerous. “This isn’t just about what we want anymore. It’s about dealing with the consequences of what we’ve done…of what we failed to do.” His gaze flickered toward the others, cold and sharp. “We need to be realistic. We can’t keep chasing after dreams when reality is staring us in the face.”

Red’s face contorted with pain, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t care about reality… I just want her back… I want us to be truly whole again.”

“We’ll never be whole again!” Blue snapped, his voice breaking as he finally voiced the fear that had been festering inside him. “We’ve lost her! We don’t even know where the others are! We’re somehow reliving this again! We lost everything when she turned away from us, and it’s our fault she did it!”

Green’s eyes filled with tears as he shook his head, desperately trying to hold on to some shred of hope. “But we have to try! We can’t just give up! We can’t just…leave her behind…”

“Shut up!” Vio snapped, his cold facade finally crumbling. “All of you, just shut up! None of this changes what happened! None of this changes what we did—or didn’t do!”

Their voices overlapped, growing more heated, more desperate, each one throwing accusations, trying to deflect the guilt and pain that threatened to consume them.

“It was your fault!”

“No, it was yours!”

“You should have done something!”

“We all failed!!

The argument went in circles, the same accusations, the same denials, the same pain, over and over again, until their voices were hoarse and their spirits were spent. It was like they were stuck, trapped in an endless loop of blame and regret, unable to move forward, unable to let go.

—-

Throughout their journey in , the colors wrestled with the traces of their arguments and guilt.

The weight of their memories and their failure to protect her loomed over them, a cruel hole in their hearts. Yet, despite the lingering tension, they had no choice but to work together.

Red was the first to break the silence that often settled between them, his voice hesitant but filled with a small glimmer of hope.

"Maybe...maybe we could make something for her? You know, if we...if we ever find her again." He didn't meet their eyes, instead fiddling with a small piece of wood he had picked up along the way.

Blue scoffed, but there was no real bite in his tone. "And what? Hand it to her with an apology?” He snorted, a scowl on his face, “Like that would fix everything."

Green bit his bottom lip, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. "It might not fix anything, but it's…something. Maybe it's a way to show her that...that we still care, that we're trying to be better."

Vio, who had been silent up until that point, finally spoke, his voice calm but carrying an underlying tension. "It's a start. We have nothing to lose by trying."

Red brightened at their responses, the glimmer of hope in his eyes growing a little stronger. "We could each make something, something that comes from the heart. It doesn't have to be much, just...just a token of what we feel."

“We would need proper materials…”

“Does it have to be one gift? Maybe a matching set or something?”

“If it’s a gift to her…it should be perfect…”

They all hesitated, the thought of crafting something meaningful for her stirring a mix of emotions within them.

But one by one, they were in agreement. It was a small step, but it was still a step forward.

As they journeyed on, they found themselves slowly working together, the tension between them gradually easing but still holding on to them.

They would often catch Red murmuring to himself as he gathered materials, his mind clearly on the gifts he was planning.

Blue, though gruff and still quick to snap, was more careful with his words and actions, as if he was trying to make up for his earlier harshness.

Green, ever the mediator, worked tirelessly to keep them focused and united, though the strain was evident in his eyes.

Vio, ever the observer, kept a close eye on their progress as they journeyed through the treacherous lands, but his thoughts were often elsewhere.

The burden they all carried weighed heavily on their mind, especially when they were all still separated, and the pretense he maintained with Shadow was both a strategy and a strain.

One evening, Vio found himself with Shadow in the tower.

The dark counterpart emerged from behind him, his eyes gleaming with that new curiosity that stayed in his eyes since they first interacted, but tonight, there was something more to his demeanor.

“You are a lot more different then I expected,” Shadow remarked, his voice dripping with a mix of intrigue and something more unsettled. “All of you. You guys act one way, but inside… I can tell there’s something else going on. Something you're all hiding.”

Vio didn’t let his expression falter.

Of course Shadow would notice—he was as much a part of them as they were of each other. “We have our roles to play,” Vio replied, his tone measured and calm. “What you see is what we need to be.”

Shadow tilted his head, his eyes narrowing as he studied Vio. “So, it’s all an act? Pretending to be something you’re not? Trying to fool someone?” He bared his teeth in a mocking smile, his voice a dangerous whisper. “Or maybe…trying to fool yourselves?”

Vio’s calm facade didn’t waver, but the weight of Shadow’s words pressed on him. “Perhaps we are trying to fool ourselves,” he admitted quietly. “There are… things we haven’t fully come to terms with. Things that still haunt us.”

Shadow leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a near hiss. “Come to terms with what, exactly? What are you hiding, Vio? Don’t be coy with me. Tell your pal Shadow the truth.”

Vio stared back at Shadow, his expression cool, but his mind carefully choosing his next words. “We lost someone important to us. Someone we failed to protect,” he said, his voice steady but tinged with a hint of the sorrow he kept buried. “We’re still trying to figure out how to make it right.”

Shadow’s gaze bored into Vio, as if trying to pry the truth from him with sheer will. Then, slowly, a knowing smile curled his lips, but it wasn’t a friendly one. “You’re not as good at hiding things as you think you are,” he said, his tone laced with dark amusement. “You can fool the princess, your Sword Brothers, even yourself, but not me.”

Shadow chuckled at the heavy stare Vio aimed at him.

“I see through the cracks, Vio. I can feel the darkness in you. What wonderful darkness you have. You’re all pretending, acting like everything’s fine, but I can feel it, there’s something festering inside you, something rotten. Something…unheroic.”

He grinned, “I kinda like it.”

Vio’s eyes flickered, but he remained composed. “So observant,” he remarked, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

Shadow’s smile widened, but there was no warmth in it. “You can hide a lot of things, Vio. But you can’t hide what haunts you—not from me. The guilt, the fear… the anger. It’s all there, bubbling just beneath the surface, no matter how hard you try to suppress it.”

Vio knew Shadow was right. But he also knew that Shadow didn’t fully understand it, couldn’t grasp the depth of what they were hiding—not completely. Not when he was disconnected from them like this. Cut off from them by the Dark Mirror and Ganon’s powers.

“I suppose we really can’t hide anything important from you ,” Vio replied calmly, watching the dark counterpart preen. “But we don’t need to hide all that from you. Just from everyone else while we keep moving.”

Shadow scoffed, but his eyes remained fixed on Vio, studying him with a mix of suspicion and curiosity. “All this cause you made the wrong choices and refuse to accept it? Hmph, and I thought Vaati was arrogant.”

“Well that’s just cruel.”

Shadow waved him off, “You’re playing a dangerous game, Vio. And one day, the mask you’re wearing will crack.”

He tapped his chin and leaned closer, “I bet She’d reject anything you present to her the moment she saw you.” His voice holding a hint of glee when Vio tensed.

Vio’s gaze hardened, but he didn’t respond. He knew Shadow didn’t realize what it was he said.

He knew Shadow was aware of something, he had been behaving a bit off since their very first interactions…but he couldn’t afford to let him see the whole truth. He wasn’t ready…Not yet.

Shadow lingered for a moment longer, his eyes dark and unreadable, before he turned and melted back into the shadows. But as he disappeared, his parting words hung in the air like a curse.

“I’ll always be watching you guys, Vio. And when the time comes, we’ll see just how well you can keep denying your mistakes.”

“I never denied anything.” he said firmly.

Shadow shrugged with a smirk.”Keep telling yourself that.”

Shadow’s presence faded, leaving him alone, Vio felt the weight of the encounter settle heavily on his shoulders.

Shadow knew more than he realized, but still, being so disconnected from them meant he didn’t understand the full extent of their pain, their guilt.

And Vio…Link… intended to keep it that way, keep it from everyone, at least for as long as he could.

At least until things made sense again.

—-

The boys watched in silence as the man’s body slumped to the ground, his eyes wide with the final realization of his fate. The fog thickened around them, swallowing the scene in its cold embrace.

Red stepped forward, his expression unreadable as he looked down at the lifeless form. “Hard to believe he was a killer,” he said softly. “Didn’t he give himself up last time?”

Blue nodded, his anger subsiding into a cold determination. “And we just sped up the timeline. Not like anyone will ever know he was here.”

Green smiled faintly, his earlier amusement replaced by a calm satisfaction. “Another job well done, I’d say.”

Vio cleaned his dagger on the man’s clothes before sheathing it. “Only way the job will be done is when we head back and get the Trader’s favor”

Red nodded, sheathing his sword with a satisfied look. “So the trader owes us now right, for protecting him?” he said, hopeful. “And that means we can get high-quality materials for cheap right? He has just what we’re looking for.”

Blue began inspecting the man’s pockets, searching for anything of use, grinning at his findings. “He won’t need these anymore,” he muttered, pulling out a pouch of Rupees and tossing it to Green, who caught it with a soft snort. “Lucrative business, killing visiting traders and selling their products as your own.”

“Not so lucrative anymore thanks to us. Nice work, everyone,” Green said, his voice cheerful once more, as if they had just finished a game. “(Y/n) will be so happy when she returns and sees what we made for her.”

“We won’t have anything to show if we don’t get the materials,” Vio said finally, his voice calm and steady. “We’ve done what we needed here, let’s go.”

The boys turned and disappeared into the fog, leaving no trace behind. The forest remained silent, as if it had never witnessed the horrors that had unfolded within it.

——

After Ganon's defeat, after Shadow returned to them. (He hoped to introduce him to (y/n) one day….)

The Colors felt it—the hollow void gnawing at their insides, deeper than the exhaustion that weighed down their limbs. They had won, but victory brought them no joy. It brought them no peace.

No other adventures to distract them.

All that was left was simply to exist until something changed.

In the days that followed, they tried to live, tried to go on as if things were bearable.

Four moved through his life in a daze, performing tasks out of habit rather than purpose.

The cheerful chaos that normally followed when he split now replaced by either a spiral argument or silence, their conversations reduced to the bare minimum needed to share thoughts.

The one thing that kept them grounded enough to continue on, the one thing that gave them a semblance of purpose: (y/n).

At first, it was a fleeting thought, a distant longing for something they couldn't quite grasp. But as the days turned into weeks, that longing grew, twisted. They found their thoughts eaten by the idea of crafting the perfect gifts for her. Latching onto the idea like a lifeline.

They threw themselves into their work, desperate to fill the void within them with something—anything—that would make them feel whole again.

Crafting became their escape. Every waking moment was spent planning, designing, and perfecting gifts for (y/n).

If they had cared to truly notice, they would have been aware of the worried looks aimed at them.

(Four would sometimes hear Zelda speak with worry to his grandpa…funny how he felt nothing at the thought of any of them. They were just like everyone else. White noise.)

Green focused on weaponry, his mind racing with ideas for swords, shields, and bows. He became obsessed with crafting the most exquisite weapons, imagining how (y/n) would wield them in battle.

(He envisioned her face lighting up with joy as she held a sword he had forged with his own hands, the blade gleaming with a power he had poured his very soul into.)

Blue turned his attention to armor, his hands never idle as he worked on intricate designs. He wanted her to be safe, protected from any harm that might befall her. Each piece he crafted would be nothing less than masterpieces, infused with enchantments that would keep her from harm.

(How beautiful she would be when she wore it? Would she finally understand how much they cared, how much they needed her to be safe?)

Vio focused on accessories—rings, amulets, and pendants that would enhance her abilities. He studied ancient texts and experimented with new techniques, his mind a whirlwind of ideas. His thoughts were always centered on her.

He wanted her to know that they were doing this for her, that they wanted her to be happy, to thrive…with them.

Red, the most emotionally driven of the group, poured his heart into crafting gifts that were not just functional, but beautiful. He wanted to create jewelry that sparkled like the stars, flowers that would never wilt, and small trinkets that he hoped would make her smile.

But as that desire grew, so did the desperation in their

They all needed her to see how much they cared, needed her to understand that she was the only thing keeping them tethered to this world.

—

——

———

“It’s been a while since we’ve spent time together like this, hasn’t it, Link?”

Zelda stood on the balcony of the castle, the golden light of the setting sun casting long shadows across the stone floor.

She watched Four out of the corner of her eye as he silently admired the view, his expression serene. But the calmness in his face was off somehow, like a doll carefully painted with a cheerful smile, too perfect to be real.

…It worried her.

Four turned to her with that same perfect smile, his eyes reflecting the warm hues of the sunset. “I’ve been busy with the forge,” he said with an even tone that matched the serene smile on his face. “I’m sorry I haven’t come over to say hi.”

“I’ve heard, you’ve been making quite the name for yourself. I’m very happy for you.” The princess said warmly, genuinely happy for him.

Four felt nothing. No joy, no excitement at the prospect of spending time with his old friend.

His mind was already drifting back to the forge, to the hammer and anvil, the clanging metal, the comforting heat of the flames.

The thought of continuing his work brought him more peace than anything else.

He didn’t have to focus on anything other than the hypnotic rhythm of hammer on metal.

And Zelda tried to smile back, yet she couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was different about him.

She remembered how Link used to be, energetic, full of curiosity, always eager to solve any challenge thrown his way. To entice her away from her royal duties and play with him.

But now, there was something artificial in his behavior, a detachment she couldn’t quite understand.

She gently placed her hand on his shoulder, trying to reach him in a way that words couldn’t. “Link, you know you can talk to me, right? We’ve been through so much together. You’re my friend.”

The word "friend" echoed in Four’s mind, but it felt like a distant memory, something he acknowledged because it was true, but with no real attachment to it.

Not anymore.

He knew he should care, he should feel some sense of loyalty, affection, or at least nostalgia. But all he could muster was a dull sense of acknowledgment. Zelda was important, of course, she was the princess, a blood descendant of Hylia.

By all accounts, he should harbor resentment or reverence, after what Hylia had done.

But instead, he felt nothing for her. No hate, no love, just a strange indifference that he was careful to mask.

Hurting her feelings wouldn’t give him what he really wanted anyone.

“Of course, Zelda,” he replied, his voice bright and reassuring. “We’re friends, and I’m always here for you too.”

Zelda’s fingers tightened slightly on his shoulder before she pulled away, nodding as if reassured.

Yet her heart was heavy with unease. Something in his eyes, the way they didn’t quite meet hers, the way they lacked the spark she remembered, told her that something was deeply wrong.

But she couldn’t pinpoint it, couldn’t voice it, and that uncertainty gnawed at her.

“Why don’t we head inside? It’s getting chilly,” she suggested, hoping to draw him into a conversation.

Four nodded agreeably and followed her inside the castle, his mind already wandering back to the forge.

He played his part well, engaging in polite conversation, smiling and laughing at the appropriate moments.

But inwardly, all he wanted was to return to his work, to the rhythm of the hammer, to the heat that drowned out everything else.

As they walked through the castle halls, Zelda glanced at him from time to time, every time she thought she saw something, it was gone in an instant, replaced by that perfect, empty smile.

“Link,” she said quietly as they reached the doors to the grand hall, “I’m really glad you’re here with me.”

He smiled back at her, a smile that reached his eyes just enough to fool anyone who wasn’t looking too closely. “I’m glad to be here too,” he said, but inside, he was already counting the minutes until he could leave, until he could be alone again, where he didn’t have to pretend.

As the afternoon wore on, Zelda led him through the castle, guiding him through various rooms and gardens, trying to rekindle old memories and activities they once enjoyed together.

Before Shadow and Ganon, before Vaati and the Minish.

They worked on a puzzle in the library, played a few rounds of chess in the grand hall, and wandered through the palace gardens where Zelda pointed out the blooming flowers, each one carrying a story from their past.

Throughout it all, Four maintained his facade, engaging politely but with a sense of detachment. He responded to Zelda’s attempts to reconnect with the same artificial cheerfulness that had become his default.

Every now and then, he would catch a glimpse of the something in her eyes, masked by her bright smile, but he chose to ignore it.

As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the castle grounds, Zelda walked Four to the main entrance. She lingered a moment, her gaze following him as he prepared to leave.

“Thank you for spending the day with me, Link,” she said, her voice gentle but tinged with an hidden layer of sadness. “I’ve missed these moments with my dear friend.”

Four nodded, forcing a smile. “It was a pleasure. Don’t let those grumpy councilmen keep you too busy.”

As he turned to leave, he noticed Zelda waving goodbye, her smile now holding a subtle melancholy that she tried to hide.

For a brief moment, Four felt a pang of heaviness.

Yet, he couldn't muster the emotional energy to bridge the gap between their feelings. He knew she had once been a dear friend, but now he was more concerned returning to his forge.

He walked away, the image of Zelda’s sad smile lingering in his mind.

Deep down, he knew if he bluntly told her he wanted nothing to do with her, she would accept it. She was understanding like that. Though she would accept albeit sadly.

Yet the thought was fleeting compared to his overwhelming desire to return to his solitary work.

The heat of the forge, the rhythm of the hammer, it was his refuge from a world that no longer made sense with nothing else left to ground him.

———

——

—

The more they crafted, the more their desperation determination deepened.

They began to imagine what it would be like if (y/n) fought alongside them, wielding the weapons they had created just for her.

The thought of her in battle, strong and powerful, became a fixation. They knew the other heroes wouldn't approve, (perhaps he should hone his own fighting skills for the inevitable clash. He’ll have to find time between crafting…)

They would likely be upset over Four crafting weapons for their darling, but the hero didn't care.

They wanted her to be happy, wanted her to see that they would do anything for her.

If she wanted to learn how to fight, they would teach her. They never should have denied her anything.

If she wanted to wield a sword, they would forge the finest blade. Never any of those shoddy blades that the Cook always used.

They were no longer just crafting gifts; they were crafting a vision of a future with her, a future where she needed them as much as they needed her.

In their dreams, they saw her smile as she accepted their offerings, saw her eyes light up with affection and gratitude.

And when they woke, the emptiness within them was more pronounced, the need for her even more intense.

They wanted to be whole again, back when things weren’t strange yet familiar.

New despite knowledge to the contrary.

To feel the warmth of life flowing through their veins. And in their minds, the only way to achieve that was through her.

She was their light, their hope that a warm future was possible for a Hero, the one person that could fill the void that has existed since all of this happened.

And so, they continued to craft, whatever didn’t reach their standards, was scrapped and remade.

Again and again, never settling for less.

Any that couldn’t be saved but still had a semblance of worth were given to his grandfather to sell at whatever price he saw fit.

More money meant more materials.

More materials meant more options to craft with.

And whatever he couldn’t obtain through hunting. He would take from sales.

Perhaps the whispers of the townspeople, should have made him feel something when he started bringing income.

‘He’s taking to his grandfather’s craft rather well!’

But they meant nothing.

‘A prodigy, that one.’

Their praise wasn’t the one he wanted.

‘Have you seen the quality of his blades?’

‘Blades? Look at his armor! Such craftsmanship! Friend of mine bought one and it handled a moblin club to the chest no problem!’

‘I heard the king was interested in his weaponry and armor and the boy declined!’

‘Quite young to be so dedicated to mastering his craft isn’t he?’

‘…Does he take custom commissions?’

He heard it, and cared for none of it.

Nothing flawed would ever be gifted to (y/n).

They can praise his failures. He only cared for the money needed for supplies and materials.

He would make the perfect gifts.

And if she didn’t like it…

Then he’ll remake them.

Again and again.

He’s gained the favor of many traders and merchants.

He had better materials than before.

He’ll surely make something splendid.

“Hmm…” Four looked at the finished blade, examining it from all angles.

To the eyes of an outsider, it was a fine blade indeed.

The quality of metal was clear. Polished well, the edges so fine one would assume a hair strand would split in two if dropped on it.

Several long minutes passing before his frown deepens.

‘Not good enough…’

And with not a single other glance, he tosses it into the large crate in the corner.

Later his grandfather will take the crate and pick what will be on display tomorrow.

It’ll be sold off by midday.

That’s what he overheard happened these days anyway.

At least he’ll have more space for his creations..

‘Again…’ was all he said to himself as he began to gather new materials to create another blade.

He had to keep crafting.

Again and again.

Had to forge the perfect gift.

Again and again.

It would make things better…

It would fix everything…

…

(Wouldn’t it?)

#this short man did NOT want to be written #he was stubborn and spiteful and just a pure headache!#yandere linked universe #Yandere Lu #linked universe four #linked universe #gliphy writes #lu #linkeduniverse #yandere four #TTAU #timeline two au

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drewharrisonwriter · 4 months ago

Text

On the Mend - Ch 5: Expectations and Limitations

No Outbreak Joel Miller x Female Reader

Read this on AO3 | On the Mend Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Summary: With emotions running high, a pivotal moment forces you and Joel to confront your unresolved feelings just as your baby decides it’s time to arrive.

Word count: 2,477

A/N: We're almost at the end! Here is chapter 5 which is a little bit longer than the rest of the chapters but I hope you like it.

Tagging these wonderful people: @tuquoquebrute @vickie5446 @softiedingo @theoraekenslover for this update. If you want to be tagged for the next ones, just leave a comment ^_^

The cool gel touched her skin, sending a small shiver up her spine as she stared at the ceiling, trying to keep her mind clear.

Clear of the crystal voice on the other end of the line, of the mental image of Joel building his new life with another woman and not fulfilling his promises to her and their unborn child…

She had been holding it together since the drive to the clinic, determined to keep things cool, to keep a distance. But her heart raced as she tried to focus on the sound of the tube that the doctor was squeezing gel from.

Suddenly, the door burst open, and Joel stormed in, his eyes wide with frustration. “What the hell happened? We were doing okay!” His voice echoed in the small room, making her flinch.

The doctor caught off guard, raised her eyebrows but quickly composed herself. “I’ll give you two a moment,” she said, her tone neutral. The doctor wiped the gel off her belly and slipped out of the room, closing the door behind her.

She sighed deeply, not wanting to look at Joel but knowing she had no choice. "And we are okay," she said, her voice steady despite the storm brewing inside her. "I’m just setting… expectations and limitations."

Joel crossed his arms, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Expectations and limitations? Wh-what are you talking about? We were doing great, wh-why are you suddenly–"

She shifted uncomfortably on the examination table, feeling the gel residue cool against her skin. "Because, Joel, we need to remember what this is. We're doing this for our daughter, not for us. We need to be clear on that."

His eyes narrowed, and a mix of hurt and anger flashed across his face. "So, what? You just decide I don’t need to be here? That I don’t have to be involved in this appointment at all?"

She shook her head, feeling her emotions bubbling just beneath the surface. "No, Joel, it's not about that. It's about... about keeping things clear. We need to focus on being good co-parents, not confusing everything by trying to be something we’re not anymore."

He stepped closer, his voice lowering but still charged with emotion. "And who says we’re confusing anything? We’ve been doing just fine! I thought we were getting somewhere, and now, all of a sudden, you’re pushing me away? What changed?"

She looked away, biting her lip. She couldn’t tell him. She couldn’t admit that the thought of him moving on, of him seeing someone else, made her feel like she was losing him all over again. She wasn’t supposed to feel that way. They were broken up, and that was that.

But the pain of it twisted in her chest, making it hard to breathe. "Nothing’s changed, Joel. I’m just trying to do what's right for our baby. I don’t want to make things messy."

Joel ran a hand through his hair, his frustration evident. "Messy? This is already messy, don’t you see that? But we’re in this together, or at least I thought we were. You don’t just get to decide I’m not a part of this… part of her life, out of the blue after what we’ve been through the past week…"

She finally met his gaze, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. "I’m not deciding anything, Joel. I’m just trying to protect myself... and protect you too. We need to move forward, but we can’t do that if we keep pretending like everything is the same as it was before."

His expression softened slightly, though the frustration was still there. "And who says it has to be like it was before? We were already figuring things out… We’ve been through worse, haven’t we?"

She shook her head again, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don’t know, Joel…”

Joel's shoulders slumped, and for a moment, the room was filled with a heavy silence. "I just... I don’t want to lose any more than I already have," he admitted quietly, his voice laced with vulnerability.

Her heart ached at his words, and she wished she could reach out, to tell him that she didn’t want that either. But she knew it wasn’t that simple. They couldn’t just go back to what they had, no matter how much they might want to. Not now that she knows someone else’s life is going to be involved that is not their baby.

Before she could respond, the door opened, and the doctor reentered, her expression careful as she glanced between them. "Ready to continue?" she asked gently.

She nodded, her gaze still locked with Joel’s. "Yes, I’m so sorry," she murmured, trying to push the tumult of emotions back down, at least for now.

But as the doctor resumed the exam, the tension in the room remained thick, the unspoken words and unresolved feelings hanging in the air between them. And though they had come to some sort of uneasy truce, she knew this wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

"Well, everything looks good," the doctor said with a reassuring smile as she wiped away the remaining gel from her belly. "But you're almost due, and I want to make sure you’re prepared for when it's 'go-time.'"

Joel, who had been quiet and brooding, suddenly snapped to attention. His eyes focused on the doctor as though he were a soldier receiving orders on a battlefield. He pushed aside the turmoil in his mind, channeling all his energy into what needed to be done as the doctor continued her instructions. The reader nodded along, absorbing the instructions, but could not help glancing at Joel, who was already in problem-solving mode, mentally mapping out their routine, the fastest route to the hospital, what they needed to pack, and what to do if they were caught in traffic.

The appointment wrapped up, and soon they were back in the car, the engine humming softly as they drove home. The tension that had filled the examination room followed them, hovering like a dark cloud.

Joel cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "So, about the go-time plan... I’ll keep my phone on me at all times--oh, we need to pack your go-bag--"

"It's already packed," she responded flatly. Joel’s eyes flicked to her briefly, then back to the road. "Of course. You just focus on keeping calm and letting me know as soon as you feel anything."

"Right," she murmured, her hand resting on her belly. "I’ll do that."

They both lapsed into silence, the conversation too functional, too polite. It was a stark contrast to the emotional exchange they had shared earlier, and the awkwardness lingered as they pulled up to her house and went inside.

—

The next few days passed in a strange, uneasy rhythm. Joel stayed close, making sure everything was for the impending birth.

She, on the other hand, found herself moving around the house constantly. Her lower back ached incessantly, and she kept busy, tidying up, rearranging baby supplies, and even preparing meals—anything to keep herself occupied and distract from the dull pain in her back and the thoughts swirling in her head.

Joel watched her with growing concern, often gently reminding her to take it easy. But every time he tried to intervene, she brushed him off with a strained smile, insisting that she was fine.

It was clear that she was trying to keep herself occupied, but Joel couldn’t shake the feeling that something was bothering her beyond the physical discomfort.

Then, one afternoon, Joel walked into the kitchen, dressed in a crisp button-down shirt and dark jeans. He hesitated in the doorway, watching her as she moved about the kitchen, preparing a simple dinner.

She looked up and smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. "You look nice. Going somewhere?"

Joel’s expression faltered, and he nodded slowly. "Yeah, I, uh, have that dinner tonight… you know..." She nodded, forcing a smile and doing her best to make it stay on her face, though her heart felt like it was being squeezed.

"Right. Well, have fun. Drive safely." She tells him softly, doing her best to sound a little chirpy. "Thanks," Joel said, still watching her carefully.

"I won’t be out too late. If you need anything, just call me." She nodded, turning back to the stove.

"Sure thing." Joel lingered for a moment longer, then turned and left the house, the door closing softly behind him.

She stood there, staring at the pot of soup she’d been stirring, her mind racing. The tightness in her chest returned, and she tried to focus on the rhythmic motion of stirring, but the thoughts wouldn’t stop.

As she stirred, she couldn’t help but think about Joel and the woman he was seeing. The hurt was sharp, piercing through her like a blade, but she understood why he was moving on. He deserved to be happy. He deserved a life that wasn’t bogged down by the complications of their past or the uncertainties of their future. And maybe this woman could give him that—a fresh start, free from the weight of their history.

But it didn’t stop the jealousy from creeping in, nor did it stop the ache that settled in her heart. She had no right to feel this way, no right to be angry or resentful. They weren’t together anymore, and she knew that. She accepted that. But accepting something didn’t make it hurt any less.

She wanted Joel to be happy, truly. But she also couldn’t shake the fear that their baby would complicate his life in ways he didn’t deserve. She remembered all too well how he had been torn between her and Sarah, how he chose to walk away rather than try to build a life with both of them. It was a choice she had understood and accepted, as much as it had hurt. She had never wanted Joel to feel like he had to choose between them, and she certainly didn’t want him to feel that way now.

She loved Sarah like she was her own, and she knew that Sarah deserved a life filled with stability and love. She didn’t want to disrupt that any further, didn’t want to be the reason Joel had to make another painful choice. If her presence, if this baby, was only going to make things harder for Joel, she would let him go. She’d let him go before her baby arrived before their lives became even more entangled.

It wasn’t fair to Joel, or to Sarah, to hold on to something that might never be. She’d find a way to move forward for good, to build a life for herself and her baby, without dragging Joel into a situation that could complicate his already complex life. She didn’t want to be a burden, didn’t want to put him in a position where he had to choose again.

She would need to move far away from Austin.

She would be fine. She would find a way to make it work. But the thought of Joel being happy with someone else, of him finding peace in a life without her, twisted painfully in her chest. And yet, she knew she had to let him go. It was the right thing to do—for him, for Sarah, and for her baby.

She turned off the stove, letting the soup simmer as she tried to gather herself. She would find the strength to do what needed to be done. She had to, for everyone’s sake.

Hours passed, and as the evening wore on, she began to feel an unfamiliar tightness in her belly, more intense than the usual discomfort.

She brushed it off at first, attributing it to stress, but as the minutes ticked by, the sensation grew stronger, more insistent.

By the time Joel returned home, it was late, and she was in the kitchen, leaning against the island, swaying her hips gently to try and ease the pain.

Joel walked in, his keys jangling as he tossed them onto the counter.

"Hey, how’re you holding up?" he asked, his tone casual, though he froze when he saw her expression. She was gripping the edge of the counter, her knuckles white, her breathing labored.

Joel’s heart dropped into his stomach. "Are you… are you okay? Did your water break?" he asked, his voice edged with panic. She could only shake her head, unable to speak as another contraction gripped her.

When it finally subsided, she straightened up, picked up her mug, and moved toward the living room, one hand on her lower back for support.

Joel watched her, bewildered and alarmed. "Talk to me," he demanded, following her.

"What’s going on? Are you in labor?" She turned to face him, trying to say something harsh to push him away and shut him out but her eyes only filled with unshed tears, and she just nodded in reply, trembling a little.

Joel’s eyes widened as her nod confirmed his worst fears. He was by her side in an instant, his hand hovering near her arm, unsure if she wanted him close or not. "Okay, okay," he muttered, more to himself than to her. "We need to get you to the hospital."

But she shook her head, her body tense, her breaths coming in short, rapid bursts. "No… I-I’m not ready," she whispered, her voice trembling.

"Not ready?" Joel repeated, confused. "You’re in labor, we need to—"

"I’m not ready to do this alone," she finally admitted, her voice breaking. "But I have to… I can’t… I can’t drag you into this. It’s not fair to you… or to Sarah."

Joel’s heart twisted at her words. He could see the fear in her eyes, the overwhelming uncertainty that she was trying to hide behind a wall of forced strength. "Darlin', you’re not alone," he said gently, taking a step closer. "I’m here. I want to be here."

"But you shouldn’t be!" she cried, her voice rising in panic. "Joel, you shouldn’t have to go through this again. I know you’re trying to help, but… this isn’t your responsibility. It’s mine."

"Why are you pushing me away?" Joel asked, his voice low but intense. "I’m not going anywhere. I want to be here for you, for our baby. Please, let me help."

She bit her lip, trying to hold back the tears that were now spilling over. "I’m scared, Joel," she finally admitted, her voice cracking with emotion.

"And, and, I’m–I’m hurt. I know I shouldn’t be, but I am. You’re seeing someone else, and I get it, I do. We’re not together anymore, and you have every right to move on. But I can’t help how I feel. I can’t stand the thought of you being happy with someone else when I’m here, struggling with everything."

Joel’s eyes widened in shock. "Darlin', I—"

"No," she interrupted, shaking her head as she wiped at her eyes. "I’m not done. I just… I don’t know how to deal with this feeling, I just know that they're not right and I shouldn't be feeling this. But I’m scared, Joel. I’m scared of doing this alone, but I’m even more scared of dragging you into something you don’t want… something that could hurt Sarah again. I don’t want to put you in a position where you have to choose again."

Joel’s expression softened, and he took her hands in his, his touch gentle but firm. "Darlin', if you're worried about that dinner... It's not what you think, trust me," he said, his voice steady and assuring. "And you’re not dragging me into anything. I’m here because I want to be. I want to help you, to be with you and our baby. This isn’t about choosing. This is about being there for the people I care about. You and Sarah are both a part of my life and so is this baby."

She looked up at him, her eyes filled with a mix of fear and uncertainty. "But what if it’s too much? What if it makes everything harder?"

Joel shook his head, squeezing her hands gently. "Everything is harder with a newborn." Joel managed to joke, and they both found room to chuckle. "We’ll figure it out. Together. You don’t have to carry all of this on your own. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere."

"It's unfair to your date--"

"That wasn't a date."

"What?"

She looked at him confused now and, quite frankly, feeling a little foolish. Joel sighed deeply and rested his hands on his hips, head between his shoulders, taking a moment to gather his thoughts.

"She's an ex... and we recently reconnected at a convention but it wasn’t a date. I promise you. I uh... She works at my insurance company and I'm updating my life insurance policy... I am adding the baby..."

"Oh!" She yelped and groaned really low, Joel with his cat-like reflexes was already holding her as she sank into a deep squat.

"Just breathe," he murmured, his voice soothing. "You’re doing great."

She tried to focus on his voice, on the steady rhythm of his breathing, but the pain was intense and overwhelming.

"Joel… it’s… it’s getting wooooooorrrrrrseee ohhhh..." She felt it pop inside her and fluids began to slightly stream down her legs.

"We need to get to the hospital," he said urgently, helping her to her feet. "We don’t have much time."

She nodded, finally giving in to the reality of the situation. "Okay," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Okay, let’s go."

Joel grabbed the hospital bag and guided her to the door, his mind racing as he tried to stay calm for her sake. As they headed to the car, she hesitated, turning to him one last time.

"Thank you," she said, her voice breaking. Joel sighed deeply with a slight smile, and just kissed her on the forehead.

"Let's get this baby out, mama." He whispered as he guided her inside the passenger seat.

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