#that’s a fun little fact that tore my heart out

[myvoiddreams]

Fragments of Starlight (4)

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: With the bond she had held tightly to her chest known now by Cassian, she fights for her own life alongside Azriel. 

Word Count: 3,069

Warnings: ANGST, violence, dark themes, self-mutilation?, some fluff

A/N: I’m backkkkkkk anddd I am so grateful for everything you have all said about this little series of mine. It’s something I wanted to start up just for fun and so many of you have left me such kind words about it. I’m planning on this being the last part. I might follow up with a little epilogue of sorts if there is any interest in that! I do have some plans for different one shots I’ll be getting into soon!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

---

Now

“He’s what?” Cassian went wide eyed. He was covered in dirt and blood. His hair, which was once tucked neatly into a bun, had pieces falling that framed his distressed face.

“You heard me Cass,” I quickly sucked in shakily, not believing I had finally admitted it. Admitted it to fucking Cassian of all people. 

Cassian’s face softened and his eyebrows knit. He slowly started to lean down to check his brother’s injuries when the ground started to shake around us, and a booming noise followed suite. The battlefield was only getting messier. A sense of urgency pricked his face.

“Fuck,” he stood, “It’s Nesta.” He looked between Azriel’s form and my own as I still held the injury, I had delt myself. There was conflict covering his face. He was not able to hide his emotions.

“Go Cass,” I said even though my heart spiked at my own words. A fear, the same fear of being abandoned flooded my chest, overwhelming the aching mating bond that usually held itself there. “She needs help more than we do, now that we’re healing. Go.” I spoke these words even though I was unsure if I was healing fast enough.

“Be safe, keep each other alive. I’ll be back.” Cassian said simply, his face hardening as he stood. He leaped from the ground, his great wings taking him into the sky. Red flashed across the sky as he followed the booming. The ground shook again as he took off.

A groan sounded behind me stopping my heart dead in its tracks.

I turned as quickly as my body could manage without throwing myself back down. My hand found the side of Azriel’s face as he began to stir. I kneeled in front of him and I stroked my thumb down his cheek as the bond in my chest thrummed with anticipation and anxiety.

“Az,” I shakily said his name, “Azriel, please open your eyes.”

He did, slowly, but he opened them. I let out a breath I didn’t know I had been holding. A sad smile also crept up my face, as I found his hazel eyes with my own.

“W-what happened?” he swallowed as he tried to sit up further against the tree. Hearing his voice was like a light in this fucked up bloody dark. It was cut short with a wince.

“Stay still, please. You’re a bit worse for wear.” I held back the tears that somehow found their way springing to my eyes. I couldn’t find it in myself to let go of his face as I continued to speak to him, leaving more blood from my ravaged hands upon him. “You were struck down, I saw you falling. I came to help.” I finally tore my hands from his dirt covered face and looked to his abdomen.

It was still bleeding. Why was it still bleeding? The wound had knitted the muscles slowly back together, but his flesh, the skin, was still open, still oozing.

Panic crept back into my being.

“Y/N,” Azriel began as he moved to hold my arm, but I cut him off.

“Your wings are still intact, Az, they are just fine. Your limbs too. It’s only this wound on your abdomen that remains open, and it will shut. You will be just fine.” I was spitting out my words at a rapid pace as I moved my hands from his face to the wound on his abdomen. I was shaking, becoming dizzy once again at the prospect. At the reality that we might not all make it out of this. At the fact his blood was bubbling around my hands. 

“You’re shaking,” he rasped, “and paler than a ghost.” He cried between whines. He moved his head back to the tree, once again leaning on it for support.

“Cassian was just here,” I breathed out, “he was just here, and he’s okay too.” Panic was biting at my tone as I tried to calm myself down.

Azriel had used so much of his strength already in battle. His body couldn’t keep up.

More blood. My mind spat at me.

Azriel had started to teeter again with his consciousness. I could feel it deep within that bond stringing us together. It was loosening, his end was losing.

“Y/N,” his voice came out as a croak, his eyes were closed now. “Promise me something.”

“No, Azriel,” I nearly barked, “Shut up and open your fucking eyes again.” Panic laced my every word, my every breath as I ordered him around.

“Promise me, you’ll keep going. Don’t let this be the end for you. You’re stronger than you know, and this world needs you,” His voice was trailing off now. His lovely, deep voice has become nothing more than a whisper.

“Well, I fucking need you!” I grabbed onto his leathers, not caring about the state of my ruined hands, the tears now pouring down my face. My head made its way to his chest, as his hand rubbed my back. It ever so slowly stopped rubbing and fell.

I gripped onto him tighter. I sobbed into his chest. He was no longer conscious, but I could still hear, feel, his heart beating. Slowing down its rhythm, but still beating.

This would not be the fucking end of him. This would not.

Stifling my tears, I grabbed a dagger sheathed at his thigh and plunged the blade into my own arm. Rage and adrenaline fueled me once again. I was not going to let Azriel leave this world while he was fighting for his family, his court. I was not going to let my mate leave this world before me.

I do not care about the fear, the abandonment, how alone, how pitiful I felt. I cared more for this beautiful male to stay here in this world that needed him, whether he or it needed me or not. 

As the blood surged from my wound, I tilted his head back and opened his mouth. He unconsciously drank.

There had to be a chance. I told myself.

The world began to tip on its axis, and I could no longer hold my arm to his mouth. My body had had enough. From the beatings, lashings, slices, burnings, and fighting. I was drained, in every sense of the world.

My body fell next to Azriel’s. With my last fragment of strength, I reached for Azriel’s hand and interlaced his fingers with my own.

My own consciousness dwindled away, but I could still hear his heart beating.

Good.

---

Before

I crashed through the woods. My bow was attached to my hand as I reached for an arrow that was in the quiver on my back. The air was beginning to grow colder, thicker. A piercing cry once again shattered the air around me. I had no choice but to drop my weapon and cover my ears.

That Gods forsaken noise. They were getting too close for comfort.

The Harpy I had the unfortunate luck of running into trailed me. I don’t know why the creature who typically hunted for valuables followed me of all people. All I had in my possession was my bow, quiver with some arrows, a couple of food rations, and the clothes on my back.

Maybe for sport this time. Awesome.

As soon as I could force my body to endure the cry once more, I scattered for my belongings and ran with all my might. I couldn’t get a sight on this infernal creature, and I’m sure it might take more than a couple of arrows to bring it down.

I just had to make it to the border. To the Night Court. The Court of Nightmares.

Also, awesome. Trading running for my life from a Harpy to a Court that would sense my presence in their walls in no time and also come tracking me down.

The Harpy was the bigger threat right now.

I felt a tug at my lose hair, at my lose clothes as I stumbled over root and rock. The creature was literally nipping at my heals.

The burning feathers of the winged beast, and sharp talons were in arm’s length now. I could feel it.

I made the mistake of looking back, but as I did, I raised my bow above my head. The beast has gnarling teeth that gnashed my way.

I brought my bow down, too close now to make any kind of shot with an arrow. Before my strike could hit the creature, a blast of blue energy passed me and knocked the creature away. It cried as it was demolished, almost incinerating in the rich light.

I scrambled back from it, my ass hitting the ground. What the fuck?

My breath hitched as my gaze locked onto the source of the power rippling through the air.   A towering, winged male stood several feet away, shrouded in an aura of quiet dominance that demanded attention. His dark, leathery wings, flared wide and menacing, cast jagged shadows across the ground, their sheer size and sharp edges enough to make even the bravest falter. 

A scent of mist and ceder floated towards me as he spoke, “Are you okay?”

Am I okay?

“Y-yes.” I choked out.

As he made his way closer to me, I scrambled to my feet. I dusted off my pants as properly as I could.

“What’s your name, girl?” His voice was so low and resonant.

“Y/N,” I again, could barely breath out.

He brought a slight smile to his face, “What brings you to the Night Court, Y/N?”

---

Azriel had brought me to a small village in snow covered mountains where he told me there would be a healer. This was not the behavior I was expecting from any in the Court of Nightmares, let alone who I learned afterwards was the Shadowsinger for the High Lord himself.

I spent many months in that village, surrounded by other travelers, but mostly lesser fae called Illyrians.

I poured drinks in a taven, hunted, and helped in the healing structures. Anything that would help keep my head down as I decided where to head too next.

I had run from Dawn. From a close past that did not need me to return to it. That I wanted anything but to return to.

Azriel showed up to the village months later with another Illyrian, Cassian. There was some kind of accident training, and Cassian had been sent away from their war camp to, “heal on his own.” I had a feeling this Cassian had insighted something he shouldn’t have. He had had a broken nose, ribs, and all the bruises to show for it.

There were more visits like this. I slowly grew closer to the pair, learning of Cassian being a bastard, but a budding warrior. I learned that Azriel was a Shadowsinger who worked closely with the High Lord of Night himself. It wasn’t until I was given the opportunity to work in the healing tent at Windhaven that I met Rhysand. The heir to the Court of Night himself.

---

Now

The first thing I noticed when I woke was the sound of his breathing—steady, deliberate, and too close. My eyes fluttered open to find him sitting in a chair pulled close to the bed, his elbows on his knees, his chin resting on his steepled fingers. Shadows curled lazily around him, flickering like restless spirits.

There was no sign of his injury. It must have been healed or bandaged under his fresh set of leathers. Light bruises littered one side of his face. 

My hands and both arms were covered in wrappings. My head pounded as the light fluttered in my eyes. 

"You're awake," Azriel said, his voice low and gravelly, laced with something I couldn’t quite place. Relief? Anger? Both?

I tried to sit up, but his gaze pinned me down. The intensity in those hazel eyes stole the breath from my lungs. His wings, usually so tightly controlled, flared slightly behind him, a testament to his unrest.

“You fed me your blood.” The accusation was quiet but searing. It jarred me awake.

I swallowed hard, my mouth dry. “You were dying. There wasn’t time—”

“You should have let me die.” His words were harsh, but the way his hands trembled betrayed him. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

My heart hammered in my chest. He knew. Of course, he knew. He’d felt the bond. The bond that I’d been trying to ignore, to run from. I had forced this bond onto him now. I had forced him into this while he was chasing someone else.

“I saved you,” I whispered, my voice trembling.

“You bound us,” he said, rising to his feet. He began pacing, his shadows swirling more violently now, but his voice cracked on the next words. “You’re my mate.”

I flinched at the word, and he froze mid-step, his wings half-furled.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, quieter now, his tone heavy with something that sounded like betrayal.

“Because I didn’t want to be your burden,” I admitted, clutching the blanket as if it could shield me from the weight of his gaze. “I didn’t want you to feel trapped. I—I thought I could run from it.”

His expression softened, and he sank back into the chair, dragging a hand down his face. “A burden?” he repeated, incredulous. “You think you’re a burden to me?”

I looked away, but he wasn’t having it. He leaned forward, cupping my chin gently but firmly, forcing me to meet his eyes.

“You showed me I was a burden when you abandoned me in that camp and took your dear Elain instead. You showed me long before that, when I become an afterthought to you while I was drowning.” At my words, I felt regret ride down the bond.

“You are not a burden,” he said, his voice breaking with conviction. “You are my mate, my equal. You are—” He exhaled sharply, as if the next words cost him something. “You are the reason I’m still breathing. How could you ever think I’d see you as anything less than... everything?”

Tears blurred my vision. “I was scared,” I admitted. “Scared of what it would mean. Of what you’d think of me. We’ve been nothing but friends,” the word sour on my tongue, “for centuries.” 

His thumb brushed a tear from my cheek. “What I think of you?” he murmured, a faint, disbelieving smile tugging at his lips. “I think you’re the bravest, most maddening person I’ve ever met. And I think... I think I was a fool not to see it sooner.”

I let out a shaky laugh, but his expression turned serious again as his hand moved to cover mine.

“Don’t ever do something like that again,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion. “Don’t ever risk yourself for me like that. I can’t—” He stopped, swallowing hard. “I can’t lose you.”

The bond shimmered between us, a fragile thread tightening into something unbreakable. I felt it now, as if for the first time.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

His wings drooped slightly, the tension bleeding out of him as he exhaled. And for the first time, I saw it—the unguarded relief in his eyes. The love.

Azriel pressed his forehead to mine, his voice a broken murmur. “Thank the Cauldron.”

I shut my eyes at the contact. Breathing in his scent. Relief flooded me as I pushed my feelings of love, devotion, towards him through the bond that now did not end in a wall. 

Of course, I had not forgotten the time I had spent in that camp. Had not forgotten all the wrong he had done to me as of late. I wanted to be so angry with him. I wanted to yell and scream and hit him, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t when he was tugging at this bond in my chest.

His hand met my chin again, tipping it towards him. My eyes opened and I met his. His beautiful, hazel orbs scanned me. 

“Azriel,” I sniffled, moving to wipe away any remaining tears, “I’d really like for you to kiss me now.” I all but whispered. 

He shifted slightly, his fingers brushing against my jawline, featherlight yet deliberate. His touch sent a shiver down my spine, the bond between us humming with newfound awareness. My heart pounded against my ribs as his thumb traced a gentle path along my cheek, as if memorizing every detail of my face.

“I’ve waited lifetimes for this,” he whispered, his voice rough and raw, barely more than a breath.

Before I could speak, before I could think, his lips captured mine. The kiss was soft at first, tentative, like he was afraid I might disappear. But the moment I leaned into him, he deepened it, his hand sliding to the nape of my neck, pulling me closer.

His shadows curled around us, cocooning us in a world where only we existed. The kiss was fire and starlight, a melding of every unspoken word, every hidden desire. It was a claim, not of possession, but of belonging—of two souls finally finding their home.

I threaded my fingers into his hair, anchoring myself to him as he poured everything he couldn’t say into the kiss—relief, joy, need, and something infinitely more profound. When we finally pulled apart, his forehead rested against mine again, both of us breathing heavily.

“You’re mine,” he said, his voice trembling with certainty.

“And you’re mine,” I whispered back, my lips brushing his in a promise.

The bond that had fluttered and beat in my chest exploded. It had gripped onto my heart and forced it to beat. It had shown me what it was like to float on solid ground. To sink into pure bliss and oblivion.

There was time later, to be upset. To work through all the crap. There would be time for me to do all the yelling and screaming I wanted to. To work through if I was going to leave like I had threatened or if I was so weak from one kiss that I didn’t have the stomach to follow up on my threats.

But right now, I have Azriel. And he was all I needed. 

-----

Taglist: (so sorry if I missed anyone!!)

@saltedcoffeescotch @thirstyroses-world @kingshitonly @spidersfrommars15 @mariahoedt @missromantasy @breadsticks2004 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @vhjlucky13 @helo1281917 @i-am-infinite @emptyporsche @quiet-loser @watermelomsuger @anxious-cactus @rcarbo1 @latinxbipride @chelsiemp @lilah-asteria @yeonalie @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @marina468 @kennedy-brooke @myromanempiree @craftytrashprincess @fairydustblossom @st4r-girl-official @darkbloodsly @kitsunetori @historygeekqueen @ivy-34 @optimisticbabydreamer @fightmedraco @maruiin @thefandomplace @bxtchopolis @annamariereads16 @whosmys @toobsessedsstuff @ineffablywriting @uncontainedsmiles @metaphysicaldoom @darksideofthemoooon @myrtle-thai @avocadorablereader @byyalady @vhjlucky13 @anxious-cactus @evergreenlark @alainabooks143 @be-your-coffee-pot @booksbypisces @chaconnelatte @cazrielfairygf @sometimeseverythingsucks @angstylittleb1tch @littlegirl-bd @watermelomsuger @zanaorian @arssunshine @buttermilktea11

[thenameisgul]

I woke up with a deep ache in my heart thinking about how Cas rebelled and fell from heaven, lost his entire family and purpose, spent 12 years pining for dean from afar,

spent the last few months fighting with Dean and thinking he was a burden, an obstacle, the thing that always goes wrong

and then died believing that his true happiness is always only going to be in accepting the fact that he loves his bestfriend who will never seem him as anything more

Season 15 the devastation that you are

[kelstey]

mattheo riddle ☆ confess

mattheo riddle x reader

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃

he hadnt taken his eyes off of you once.

mattheo's gaze lingered on you the whole time you were on the dance floor, not going unnoticed by you. you continued to grind against some random gryffindor, acting oblivious to mattheo's death stare.

less aimed at you, more at the boy who clearly got too excited. mattheo tried to control the urge to absolutely tear him apart then and there but he couldn't. he didn't fancy getting into trouble.

it was even worse that you were wearing a slightly provocative dress - mattheo didn't mind, he could fight. but he did mjnd the fact that someone else's hands were all over you, not his.

you felt grossed out as the gryffindor's hands trailed down your body, wishing they were mattheos as his touch was the only thing you craved.

mattheo finally tore his eyes away from the scene, going over to the drinks table to join his other slytherin friends.

"when are you going to tell her?" enzo asked as he noticed mattheo's arrival.

"what?" mattheo looked at enzo confused.

"don't act stupid, you're in love with the damn girl. you do realise she's one of the most beautiful

- if not most beautiful girl in hogwarts, and other guys are most definitely plotting," enzo sipped the torturous alcohol mixed punch.

"what if she doesn't feel the same way?" mattheo said before taking a shot of vodka, the burn of the liquor tore down his throat.

"don't be silly. you both look at each other like you're the only other people in the world, everyone can see it. but id hurry cause looks like that boy she's dancing with has some other plans," enzo motioned his head to where you were dancing up against a boy.

mattheo's jaw clenched as the other boys hands made their way around your body, a desperate look in his eyes along with a clear bulge as your ass grinded on him.

without thinking, mattheo walked over to you, ripping you away from the boy. "mattheo what the fuck?!" you slurred.

"what the fuck are you doing?" he asked as he held your arm.

"having fun, what else does it look like?" you replied.

"really? cause i can see the disgust in your face as you dance on this twat," mattheo said angrily.

"what's your deal? it's not like we're dating," you said. what you didn't realise is that those words felt like multiple stabs going through his heart.

he knew you weren't dating, of course. the two of you were just best friends who clearly had feelings for each other but were far too stubborn to ever admit it.

"fine, be like that then," mattheo said and let go of you before storming off.

a week had passed since that party, an awkward tension laid amongst your friend group every time the two of you were there that didn't go unnoticed by the others.

neither of you had spoken a word to each other, once again your stubbornness and pride were both far too high to break the no contact.

"for fucks sake! cant the two of you just make up?" draco threw his hands up in the air. the boys were all having a discussion in the slytherin common room about the whole situation between you and mattheo.

"no way, if she wants to speak to me, she can speak to me. i am not talking to her," mattheo rolled his eyes.

"the two of you are literally two little kids, grow up and get over it," blaise added in.

"i agree, mattheo you have no problem getting with other girls so why is it so hard for you to do that with her?" draco said.

mattheo pondered for a bit. why was it so hard? maybe due to the fact that he was purely and utterly in love with you compared to the other girls in hogwarts who were really only used for his pleasure.

"see! you not speaking says so much, get a grip and tell her," blaise said.

"suck my dick," mattheo said before storming off to go to the black lake. he liked the peace; and even better that it was raining so no other students were likely to be there.

apart from you of course. you were sat feeding a squirrel with some trail mix you had in your bag. you were slumped at the bottom of a tree, reading peacefully before spotting a red squirrel.

it made its way over to you and you remembered the mixed nuts you had. you were in awe of the small creature, how it had no fear being cradled in your hand as you fed it.

a twig snapped which scared the squirrel and it ran off. "are you fucking joking me?" you stood up and turned to the source of the noise.

and of course mattheo was stood there. "what are you doing here?" he asked.

"i wanted some peace and quiet," you mumbled before picking up your book and tote bag, ready to leave.

"what's your problem?" mattheo stepped in your way before you could walk past him.

"you!" you shoved his chest and he stumbled back.

"me? right, and what have i done?" he raised his voice.

you grew frustrated, you didn't actually have much of a problem with mattheo. and it didn't help that he looked amazing as the rain soaked his hair and part of his shirt, just enough for you to see his toned abs.

"you know what you've done!" you raised your voice back, you didn't give a reasoning due to the fact you didn't have one, of course you could not lose this argument.

"yeah? why don't you tell me then?" mattheo walked up to you, his large frame towering over you.

"just get out of my head! fuck! every single day you're just there, and i can't help but think of you all the time. do you know how annoying it is seeing you have a new girl sit on your lap almost every time we eat at the great hall? how you want every girl in hogwarts but me? cant you see i fucking love you mattheo?" you shouted, tears welling in your eyes from the overly raw emotions and the fact you just poured your heart out to him.

"so you think ignoring me is going to solve the problem?" mattheo asked.

"yes - no - i don't know?! i want to stop loving you but i can't! i've loved you since second year and i always will!" you confessed.

"what the fuck? i've loved you since second year!" mattheo confessed back.

"then why the fuck aren't you doing anything about it?" you questioned. your question was quickly answered when mattheo grabbed your face and pulled you in. his lips smashed onto yours and things quickly escalated into a very intense make out session.

the anger and annoyance you had from the past week quickly disappeared, you couldn't help but now feel completed and happy. your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him even closer. mattheo's hands snaked around your waist, somehow getting you even closer.

the two of you broke the kiss, gasping for air.

"why didn't you do that sooner?" you asked.

"i'm doing it now, and i think that's all that matters."

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃

[thebluester2020]

Minors Do Not Interact Plz

I usually write Elliot being an absolute munch on the farmer, but let's reverse the roles a little.

Imagine the reader being wayyy too good at sucking cock, specifically Elliot's. Like to the point where the man believes he should pay you for your skill at this point.

And he would've never expected it either, especially with how you were so sweet-hearted to everyone around you, goodness, he didn't even think you so much as cursed! You were the definition of an angel, both in attitude and looks. The very fact that you went out of your way to greet him every day, bring him gifts when you were able, and just in general brought an extra spark of happiness to his otherwise mundane lifestyle. It was a blessing, something to look forward to each time he rolled out of bed in the morning.

But...when you two finally started dating? And eventually, got to the stage where you two were beginning to become intimate with one another? You'd best believe that he was totally shocked (pleasantly so, of course) at your skill at sucking a man's dick, stealing the breath right from his lungs.

. . .

"O-Ohhhh Yoba...fuck..." Elliot whined, his hand tangling itself itself in his hair whilst his other one tangled in your hair as he was currently laying down on your bed. Lewd slurping noises could be heard from in between his thighs as you drooled all over his dick, a faint pink dusting your cheeks as you focused your tongue on his tip whilst your hands both stroked his cock and played with his balls.

You giggled, your voice sounding like a siren that had successfully captured its prey to the writer. "Y' enjoying this Elliot~?" You giggled before pressing a sloppy kiss to the underside of his cock. His cock twitched at the action, Elliot having to blink away tears of absolute ecstasy to focus his vision on you as he drowsily attempted to lift his head. "Y-Yeah—Yoba...o-oh fuck!" As soon as he confirmed his enjoyment of your treatment, your lips were back on him again. The taste of your lover's salty pre-cum addicting to your senses as you placed both of your hands on his thighs before you began to deep-throat him.

His toes curled as a loud cry left his swollen lips, reddened from his attempts to bite back his noises when you started earlier. "Y-Yoba...my love, y-you're—oh!" Tears of pleasure began to stream down his face in earnest when you began to hum around his length, slowly bobbing your head up and down as your spit began to trickle down to his balls, your earlier playing with them making them more sensitive as he felt them draw up to his body in a visible sign that he was close. Yet, he couldn't tell if he wanted to cum or not, your throat felt too good around his dick. To the point, it easily reduced him to tears and confused begging, a mixture of him wanting you to slow down so he could enjoy your mouth a little bit longer and begging for you to hurry up and make him cum!

"You're so cute Elliot~" You giggled, licking a long trail up the sensitive underside of his cock before you began to tease his tip with the tip of your finger. Pre-cum bubbled at the slit of his cock, dribbling down the side as his thighs twitched around you. He nearly came on the spot when he blinked away his tears to see you looking up at him through hooded eyes, the darkness of your pupils nearly taking over the color of your eye. "Y' wanna cum~?" You asked.

He nodded his head, his Adam's apple bobbing when he gulped.

You had a mind to tease him a little more with how honest he was being buuutttt...as you placed the palm of your hand against his tip and began to massage him, the shakey, drawn-out whine that tore from his throat was far more fun to hear. "M-My love—w-wait—"

"Wait?" You tilted your head incredulously. "But you just said you wanted to cum! Be a good boy and hold still, my feather." Your lips quickly returned to his cock as you began kissing down his shaft all the way until you reached his balls. The feeling of your hot mouth sucking his balls whilst the palm of your hand viciously massaged his leaking tip was almost too much to bear as Elliot threw his head back to let out a scream of pleasure. Untouched, you reached your orgasm as well as the combined sound of Elliot's whine and the sight of his cock twitching madly at his orgasm, your fluids leaking down your thighs.

When your husband began to weakly push at your hand however, whining in overstimulation. You immediately stopped with a smirk.

There was nothing more pleasing to the eye than seeing your usually composed husband flushed and panting like a dog in heat, all because you tended to his cock!

[theemporium]

Could you possibly write something for Nico where he dates shy reader and he is all lovey dovey with her post game win when they celebrate together? Perhaps she wears his jersey? Thank you for considering. 🫶🏻

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to support Nico, it was more so the fact the games were a lot more intense and intimidating when you were in person.

You watched every game without fail, though usually it was from the comfort of your own couch whilst you were buried in one of his hoodies. And despite what people assumed, he didn’t mind. He knew you supported him. He knew that the second the game was over, you would be on the phone to him to tell him exactly what you thought of the game, always complementing the way he played regardless of whether the Devils won or lost.

And he knew games in person weren’t really your thing. You didn’t like the attention of being sat by the glass and, even though you got along with the other players’ families and friends, it still felt a little intense to be in a suite with them for the whole game. You didn’t like the pressure of having to keep up friendly small talk during the game, but Nico knew you would because you would have felt bad otherwise. 

So, in all honesty, he didn’t mind that you didn’t go to his games. 

But there was something that made his heart want to burst out of his chest on the games you did attend in person. 

“Fuck you, Panthers!” 

Nico huffed out a laugh, shaking his head at Jack’s antics. The boy was already one too many drinks deep into their post-game celebration after—by some miraculous turn of events—thrashing the Panthers on Jersey soil with a buzzing 6-1. 

“You’re gonna get us kicked out,” Nico teased, but the boy didn’t care as he grinned widely at his captain. 

“Give it a break, Cap, go back to making heart eyes at your girl!” Jack snickered, wiggling his eyebrows at the two of you. He didn’t think Nico had let go of you since he had stepped out of the locker room. “We fucking broke the streak! We are allowed to celebrate!”

“Let him have his fun,” you said, your arms tightening to gain your boyfriend’s attention as he tore his eyes away from Jack to look down at you. His gaze softened in an instant and it made your stomach erupt with butterflies. “You all deserve to celebrate the win after the rough streak.” 

“Hm, maybe we won because you were here,” Nico teased, though there was a sincerity in his words that made you think he truly believed his own words. “Wanna come to Montreal with us?”

You snorted, shaking your head. “Today was all you, I had nothing to do with it.”

“I don’t know about that,” Nico said with a massive smile on his lips as his fingers playfully tugged on the hem of the jersey you were wearing. “We lost the last five games until my girl walked in with her lucky jersey on. I think that’s all the proof we need.”

Your cheeks burned as you glanced down at the lucky jersey in question. It was an old jersey of his, maybe one from a year or two ago. He had given it to you near the start of your relationship, when he was leaving for his first roadie since you started seeing each other. You joked about buying some Devils merch to support him whilst you watched the games and he had handed you the jersey the night before he left. You wore it for every game you watched—or at least, you tried to. 

This had been the first game in a while you had worn it since you lost it in the process of moving apartments with Nico, into an apartment big enough for the two of you.

“You hockey players and your superstitions,” you murmured, tucking your chin against your chest to hide how flushed ‘my girl’ made you.

But Nico was one step ahead of you as his hands moved to cup your cheeks, lifting your head until he could look down at your flustered face with a soft smile. “I heard kissing the captain after a win gives the team good luck for their next.”

You laughed and his expression brightened. “Yeah?”

“Mhm, an old hockey legend,” Nico nodded. 

“Well, you gotta kiss him now!” Jack exclaimed from the other side of the table. “We need the luck!”

You laughed harder as you wrapped your arms around his waist once again and grinned up at him. “I think I can get behind that superstition.”

And Nico barely gave you a chance to finish your sentence before he leaned down to kiss you, his smile pressed against yours.

.

[lalunanymph]

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ─── you always knew oliver aiku was a bad influence. but just how bad, exactly? let's just say that if your parents ever looked out the window and happened to peep inside oliver's idle sports car, someone is about to get murdered tonight.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ─── you're now reading . . . 𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐔𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊 + 𝐒𝐄𝐌𝐈-𝐏𝐔𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐂 𝐒𝐄𝐗 with oliver aiku

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ─── fem!reader, perv!oliver, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, sex in a car, fwb!oliver, repressed feelings, oliver is a jackass, language

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ─── for the anons who once asked me many moons ago abt oliver corrupting us—this one's for you 🖤

⇤flip back to the pervtober masterlist

“Oli, we can’t do this.”

Your whimpers were lost in the scruff of his neck, a breathy moan released from the tight confines of your lips into the heat of his Porsche’s interior. 

“Mhm.” 

Honestly, if it wasn't for a soft spot you had for Oliver Aiku, you would've stabbed him.

Many men tried to get you in this position, but they could never succeed. 

You were a headstrong woman; tenacious, a hard worker and a corporate climber through and through. You had dated boys who thought the peak of communication was Snapchat streaks and “you up?” texts. But, you had never dated a man like Oliver.

In your defence, ‘dated’ seemed to be a stretch. 

Oliver was a wild ride for sure. 

Tall, handsome, pockets lined full with a pro-athlete salary, he was every girl's wet dream. 

After years in the media industry, you learned to differentiate the bad apples and genuinely lost ones. You have encountered influencers, moguls and celebrities under the scrutiny of your analytical and roaming eye. However, Oliver was an enigma to you. 

Though friendly and approachable to everyone else, you couldn’t help but feel there was a part of him he tried to hide from the world. A part which shredded through football fields and tore men’s hopes and dreams from their white-knuckled clutches. 

Many people had been destroyed by Oliver’s sheer force, both on the field and off of it if his playboy status was anything to go by. And you would be damned if you were going to be one of them. 

“Oli,” you muttered, a little firmer this time. 

The rough strip of his tongue teased your sensitive earlobe and you hissed, flinching from the sudden stimulation. 

“Oliver.” 

“What?” 

He sounded a little pissed off. You may be younger than the girls he was used to, but you were experienced enough from your years networking under intense strain and pressure to figure out when you were on the losing end of a potential relationship. 

With Oliver, it was a constant push and pull. As you moved forward, he pulled back. And for whatever reason, when he decided to reach out, you would hesitate to let him back in.

Anyone would decide that such a relationship—if it could be even called that—was doomed from the beginning.

But, Oliver and you never did have a conventional relationship. 

He saw you as a plaything, and you regarded him as a little bit of fun to unwind after a hectic week. It was a mutual agreement based on a sudden spark of crazy chemistry which neither of you wanted to solidify. 

Those large, rough hands which were used to causing destruction on the field, were parting your thighs softly, reaching for the soft promise of pleasure in between them.

In other circumstances, you would let Oliver have his way with you. But today, you were determined to put up a flimsy boundary—one he was desperate to break. 

“Oliver, my house is just a few feet away.” 

True to your words, the place you rested your head for every night was in the form of your parent’s modest two storey home right in the heart of downtown Tokyo. 

Lace curtains iced its domestic eggshell white walls, keeping you safe in the veil of night and away from prying eyes. But, the thrill laid in the fact that anyone who pulled apart those flimsy curtains could catch a look of you in such a compromising position. The engine of his idle car thrummed underneath your thighs, and you wished you had worn a longer skirt to combat his straying touches. 

If there was one thing Oliver reminded you of, it was a hurricane. His determination and stubbornness pushed him to where he was today—rising high in the world's eye. 

It was one of the traits you admire about him—and one which would change your morals forever. 

“I can’t,” you murmured in a cross between a hitched breath and a soft moan. “Oliver—”

“Don’t worry your pretty little head off. Just let me feel you.”

Those unique dual-tone eyes flashed sincerely under the waning street lamp light. There were times when Oliver’s simple touches and presence could push out the nagging thoughts in your mind, and there were instances when it drew up red flags in your periphery like a race day warning. 

Like speeding down the highway without a seatbelt on, you were sure kissing someone else would never be as enthralling as kissing Oliver Aiku. 

The scruff of his sparse five-o-clock shadow and moustache rubbed on the soft skin of your chin. You tasted the beer he drank for dinner, and a little bit of your own fruity lip gloss in between the curls of his tongue. 

Everything about Oliver was enticing; how he kissed, how he fucked, how he made you feel like you were the only girl in his world when you knew that was the furthest from the reality. He was also attentive when he wasn’t a huge prick. Out of the men you fooled around with, Oliver remembered exactly what you liked and he wasn’t afraid to push those lines. 

His hand was between your thighs again, this time pushing your skirt up inch by agonising inch. You didn’t fight him, too dizzy and weak with lust. He used two thick fingers to pry apart the seat of your panties, already sticky with arousal and ready for the taking. 

“So perfect,” he whispered into your neck. “How're you so perfect for me?” 

Over time, you had to tell yourself it was just words from a man who wanted to lure you into bed and they didn’t mean a thing.

But sometimes, you forgot. You forgot that this wasn’t real, that Oliver doesn’t actually love you. 

It didn’t help that his kisses felt like coming home at the end of a hard day; though already complicated as it was, whatever emotion you both harboured for each other could never be said out loud. 

He tipped your head towards him again, to catch your lips in a languid, teasing kiss that was more tongue than lips. The taste of him sent a thrill down your spine, settling right into your core. 

“Can I feel you, baby? Can I touch you here?” He stroked the soft flesh of your inner thigh with his thumb, locking eyes with you in the half-light. 

They brought you down a spiral; into a light purple and a hazel green tide which tried to rip apart your resolve. 

You were half out of your mind when you nodded, giving your consent with a shaky little sigh. 

He immediately pounced onto that opportunity like a panther to your jugular. 

Using his strength, Oliver dragged you onto his lap, where you fit against his edges snuggly. Those plush lips descended upon yours again, and he kissed away your troubles and worries, only determined to bring towards the brink of giving everything up for him.

Like a riptide, it was no use holding him back. 

Oliver had fucked you in shady motels and even in his practice locker room, but this was new territory. The both of you were within reach of your parents who had no idea of your budding situationship with the famous footballer. 

At the reminder of them, you broke the kiss off with a gasp, pinning your wide eyes onto his half-mast ones.

“Oli, how tinted are these windows?” 

“Really tinted,” he murmured without a shred of hesitation. Despite yourself, you believed him. 

You let him kiss down your neck, bite on your collarbones and pull you back in for more sloppy kisses. Unlike other men, Oliver wasn’t jumping into the main event. 

He took his time to prep you, slipping two fingers through your folds and gathering the slick there to rub along your entire entrance and back hole. Though his movements were jerky, he was still gentle with you—peppering smooches down the bridge of your nose and jaw.

If you were a weaker girl, you were sure your heart would melt into your ruined panties just for Oliver Aiku. 

He hummed, feeling you slowly ease yourself up and down his two fingers, fucking yourself on those static digits.

The first time he met you, Oliver was sure you were an upstuck, prudish type of girl. You weren’t exactly his flavour of woman, but where would the fun be without a challenge? 

He spent weeks pursuing you, doing the cheesy lame boyfriend shit people like Isagi would do for some girl he met two weeks ago. 

But, Oli’s goal was simple: Make someone else who wasn’t his type be into him.

Though you were right here with him, the task felt impossible. It was hard to get a woman who already had everything to take a chance on him. Your life was perfect—great job, great friends, supportive parents.

What could a man like him offer besides sending you to additional therapy sessions on your insurance’s dime? 

Under all the layers of his cocky playboy persona, Oliver knew he was a wreck waiting to implode. He never felt good enough to warrant a spot on Japan’s football team. He was insecure and lacked control in every part of his life except his dating one. 

It was why he went after more soft-willed girls than you.

And why the sight of you undulating your hips over his fingers nearly sent him into overdrive. 

“Fuck,” he breathed out. “You’re really something, huh, Y/N. Look at you—getting yourself off on your own. Good girl.”

Something about his tone and that endearment made both your heart and pussy throb.

“Oli,” you sniffled, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. Oliver had barely touched you—he had fondled, kissed and fingered you—yet, you were already dripping for him. 

Such eagerness made your cheeks burn, and you hiccuped more of your moans back, afraid to let him hear.

But, Oliver—as attentive and controlling as he was—could sniff your shame from a mile away. He nudged your face up to look into his, those soft, dual-toned eyes edged with a ring of steel in them that cut through your flimsy bleats. 

“Let go for me,” he urged, brushing the pads of his fingers down your soft cheek, and you lost yourself in his unique eyes and handsome face again. “Don’t be afraid to show your real self to me, angel.”

Again, something in you broke. 

The last flimsy excuse, your remaining shred of dignity… all for you to finally hiccup: “Oliver, please fuck me.” 

That was all the begging he needed. 

Oliver slid his pants and boxers down, far enough for his cock to spring free and leave a smear of pre on your exposed soft belly. Your skirt was around your hips, panties pushed to the side, and that was how he took you. 

The stretch burned, but it was a satisfactory one. Your thighs ached and tears were smarting in your eyes. 

Oliver was bigger than most guys and you weren’t used to taking him without a soft bed and a little more prep work. 

But, you held onto his shoulders, every bit of your skin feeling like it was on fire from trying to hold back your moans. You didn’t want anyone to hear, or for random people to suspect; even when the car frame started to shake or the windows began to fog up. 

This was your tryst with Oliver Aiku; your dirty little secret. 

He pulled you close to kiss you again, and this time, those large hands moved to the front of your shirt, kneading your breasts with an eager vigour. You let him lift the hem up, untuck your bra cups and bathe your slowly stiffening nipples with soft kitten licks. 

Oliver guided your hips to grind down on his cock, while he suckled and tongued your buds to stiffness. The filthy squelch of your pussy coating his length with her excitement and the smack of his lips and tongue turning your nipples into fleshy diamonds echoed through the car. You were lightheaded and felt like someone had spiked your system with alcohol.

The sleek lines of his Porsche’s interior were swimming in your eyes, and you felt like you could faint from the excitement. 

Your internal pressure ticked up a notch when one large palm of his wrapped around your neck, stopping your breath in your throat. If there was one thing you were sure Oliver was made for, it was to drive you insane.

He squeezed down on you, while intermittently fucking into you with clean, sharp thrusts. He kept a consistent pattern—squeeze, fuck, let you breathe, squeeze, fuck…

“Oli!” you wheezed in between those breaths he gifted you, your swimming eyes breaking and tears running down your cheeks. “Oliver…”

“Cum for me,” he coaxed, slipping his thumb in between your lips where you sucked on the tip with what he thought was almost love. He retracted his thumb, glossy with your spit and notched it right on your windpipe, putting pressure.

Oliver watched the ecstasy, fear and lust flash across your expressions, one melange of an erotic sight he would remember forever. 

“Let yourself go, baby,” he urged, squeezing down on your throat, while you felt his abs undulate against the soft planes of your belly—a tell-tale sign he was going to cum. A pinch appeared in his brow, and sweat bulleted down his forehead. 

“G’na—fuck—you’re so tight,” he nearly gasped that last part out. “Pussy so perfect for me. Go on then, give ‘em a show… show everyone how you’re creaming just for me, sweetheart.” 

Just as you were approaching your high where white light was flooding behind your closed lids, Oliver pressed his damp lips to your ear, his whisper cutting through the fog and bringing your climax crashing down like an implosion.

“The windows aren’t actually tinted, baby… everyone just saw you fucking my cock so good.”

Your eyes rolled back into your head, manicured nails stabbing into his shoulders. Despite every fibre of your being yelling at you to stop and hop out from his lap, something darker and sultrier begged you to stay—to give into this ruin. 

Those voices warred and clashed with each other for a few seconds, which felt like an eternity as you were stretched out on another plane of pleasure no one could touch. Your ribs expanded, your spine arched and your toes curled and—

“Oliver!” 

With everything you had, you came for him. 

All the voices in your head stopped; replaced by the chanting of his name over and over again. 

Like he was a prayer and you were the repentant sinner, you sobbed out his name, holding onto his neck like a lifeline and slowly bucking your hips up and down, prolonging the almost cruel pleasure.

Oliver came around the same time you did, with a grunt and his fingers clawing into the doughy flesh of your hips. 

You sagged against him, and through a lapse of judgement, his lips found your temple, leaving a small peck on the sweaty skin.

Oliver held you like you were meant to be cradled. You couldn’t think about anything that occurred within these past few minutes; your mind was on a fever high and your body was melted to his like hot wax pooling into a holder. 

“You okay?” His deep voice rumbled under your cheek.

You nodded, too exhausted to speak.

“Can you walk?” 

Flexing your thighs, you offered another pathetic nod.

“Do you want to stay here for a bit or go?”

You should probably go. After all, it was encroaching a tender territory you dared not ventured through. He felt too good, too comfortable to leave, but you ignored the screaming in your bones when you forced yourself off his lap and back into the passenger seat.

Adjusting your panties, skirt and shirt, you flashed him a tight smile, one which he echoed with an uncertain grin.

For a few seconds, neither of you spoke, and it felt like you were leaving a movie just before the good part came on. 

But, you had already seen multiple films like these before, starring numerous women this great actor before you had duped and jilted. 

You weren’t interested in entering his rotating roster of desperate girls waiting to be picked, so you strengthen your resolve and put your dignity back in the driving seat.

“Bye, Oliver.”

He hummed. “Bye, Y/N. Goodnight.” 

Oliver didn’t offer to see you again, and you didn’t bother mentioning it.

Sometime next week, the both of you would fall back into this toxic cycle—either you would call him up drunk out of your mind or he would get pissed off during his training and call you after to let off some steam. Rinse and repeat. 

Life was predictable like that with Oliver. You didn’t want to disturb the peace.

You got out of his car, adjusting your skirt one more time. Usually, you would never turn back to give him a second glance—out of sight, out of mind.

But, this time, something compelled you to turn around, and when you did, you gasped out loud; nearly running towards his retreating car to smack the roof, the hood or even the lying man behind the wheel. 

Through those crystal clear windows which were obviously not heavily tinted like he promised, Oliver shot you a smirk and a wave, leaving you stewing in both horror and an inexplicable desire to fuck that smug look off his stupidly handsome face as the reality sank in. 

You had fucked Oliver Aiku right in front of your parents, and judging from the silent house behind you and the lack of a usual warm vibe, you were positive they were going to rip through you a new one.

intellectual property of ©️lalunanymph. do not copy, repost or play around with my sentence structures, plots and characterization.

[captainsophiestark]

We're Good

Kol Mikaelson x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: TVD/TO

Summary: Kol meets Davina and finally seems serious about someone, so his best friend convinces herself to finally let go of her secret crush. But when Kol gets jealous of her paying attention to another guy, what once seemed settled might not actually be finished.

Word Count: 3,092

Category: Angst, Fluff

A/N: Title is lightly inspired by the Dua Lipa song, although the fic doesn't totally fit it.

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I tried not to scowl as I watched Kol from the second level of the Mikaelson compound. He was down on the dancefloor, in the middle of the latest party he and his family had decided to throw. I knew Nik or Elijah had some ulterior motive for hosting, but I hadn't cared because this time, I'd had my own ulterior motive. I'd put on my absolute best outfit and made sure I looked like a knockout, all so I could finally tell Kol Mikaelson, my longtime friend and crush, how I really felt about him.

And now, before I could, he was standing at the edge of the dancefloor trying to make a move on Davina Claire.

I should've known. Kol and I had been friends for a long time, and despite pretty regular flirty moments between us, he'd never taken any steps to make us something more serious. Instead, he flirted with, hooked up with, and even dated whatever mortal he'd most recently fallen for while I stood by pretending not to get my heart broken.

This time, I was done with it. For good.

I set my jaw and squinted, refusing to let the tears fall as I turned from the balcony. I almost made it into a hallway off the Mikaelson compound where I could disappear from everything, but of course, I couldn't quite get that lucky.

"He's a bloody idiot, you know."

Rebekah Mikaelson, my best friend in the world, stood before me with her hands on her hips, blocking my exit.

"Rebekah-"

"I'd love to have you for a sister-in-law, but you deserve better than one of my idiot brothers. As a boyfriend and as a friend."

"Bex, I don't want to hear it right now."

The sympathy on her face almost killed me, but she stepped aside. I thought that would be it, but then she called out to me just before I could turn the corner and escape this whole mess.

"Mourn all you like tonight, but tomorrow we're going out! There are plenty of men in this city to help you forget all about Kol!"

****************

Rebekah gave me exactly one day before she started hounding me about going out on the town to forget her "idiot brother". And honestly, I might've ignored her, except for the fact that Kol spent the entire day after the ball with Davina.

I'd always known he was a flirt, but this time, he actually seemed to mean it. So I gave him more space than usual, for my sake as much as his, and spent more time wih Rebekah. We baked and went on walks, and after a while, I stopped shooting her down when she tried to drag me to bars. Kol kept hanging out with Davina, but slowly, seeing them together was starting to hurt a little less. I always thought if he found a girl to get serious about, it would be me. And a tiny little part of my heart still tore to shreds when I saw how wrong I'd been. But unlike those first few days, the heartbreak wasn't eating me alive anymore.

Which is how I ended up out at a bar with the entire Mikaelson family, dancing my heart out on the dancefloor without a second thought for whether Kol would join me.

We'd first started a montly tradition of the firve of us going out and just having fun a few years ago, and despite various dramas and the siblings scattering to the winds, we'd more or less managed to keep it up. We always picked a place a few hours from where any of us were living and planned to stay the night, so we could well and truly forget everything but having a good time together. Normally, I spent the night orbiting Kol, to the point that Nik usually had a field day giving me shit about it. Tonight had been a little different.

I'd joined Nik in dragging Elijah out of the house, gone with Rebekah to order all of us some truly strange, fun cocktails, and danced the night away on the dancefloor with all of them, without my mind or gaze constantly circling back to Kol. He didn't seem to even notice the shift, and I was surprised to find that it didn't really bother me. Kol was a good friend, after all, and with a little more time to process, maybe we'd even be better off.

"Hey!" Rebekah shouted into my ear, still barley making herself heard over the music around us. We'd been here for hours, but none of us showed any signs of slowing down just yet. "That guy at the bar has been staring at you all night!"

I turned to follow her gaze and found a handsome guy looking back. He smiled, a little sheepish, and I returned the gesture before whipping around to Rebekah.

"Why are you so fixated on setting me up with somebody?"

"Because it's fun! And I haven't got to do it once in all the time I've known you because you've been so hung up on Kol. So come on, let me have my fun!"

I made a face. I wasn't sure I wanted to take a chance on the random person Rebekah had found, regardless of me finally being over Kol. She huffed, then leaned in to speak in my ear again.

"Just trust me! I compelled him and asked him some questions, and he seems like someone you'd get along quite well with!"

I closed my eyes. "You compelled him, Rebekah? Seriously?"

"Well how else was I supposed to make sure he wasn't some sleezy werewolf or something? Go on, just talk to him!"

"Fine! Fine, but it's still our Mikaelson Family Fun Day, so I'm just going to talk."

"That's fine with me! Although I promise not to judge you if you don't come back to the room tonight-"

I picked up the nearest thing I could find (a stack of napkins) and hucked it at her, which she easily dodged. I did my best to ignore her laughing behind me as I headed for the bar.

The guy smiled as I approached him, and I smiled back. I headed for an open spot standing next to him at the bar, and he started speaking as soon as I came within hearing range.

"Hey! I've been hoping you'd come over and say hi all night."

I smiled. "Why didn't you come over and say hi yourself?"

"Didn't want to interrupt you and your friends if you didn't want to be bothered," he said with a shrug. "Although, that girl Rebekah tried awfully hard to get me to come over once or twice."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, Rebekah loves nothing more than meddling, especially in my life." I paused. "I'm glad she convinced me to come over and talk to you though."

"So am I! I-"

He broke off at the same time as I felt someone slide up to the bar behind me, chest almost pressed into my back. I started to turn around to tell whoever it was to back off, but a familiar voice spoke up before I could.

"Why don't you go find someone else to bother, mate?" said Kol, his tone laced with the slightest undercurrent of a threat. Apparently, he'd decided to make sure he got what he wanted, because a moment later the guy whose name I hadn't even been able to get yet turned on his heel and walked away.

I rounded on Kol with a furious scowl, but he just grinned back at me, still very close and in my personal space. Normally, the proximity would've left me with butterflies, but right now all I felt was anger growing in the pit of my stomach.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I asked, an edge to my voice that I'd really never directed at Kol before. His eyebrows shot up, but otherwise, he didn't seem bothered.

"I was getting rid of that creep who was bothering you. Come on, darling, I thought you'd be thanking me-"

"Thanking you? Kol, he clearly wasn't bothering me! I came up to him, for God's sake!"

"Well I'm sorry, it just looked like you might want me to step in-"

"How? How did it look like that, Kol?"

My voice was getting louder now, enough that a few people were starting to take notice, but I didn't care. I was furious at my so-called friend and he was going to hear about it.

Kol cleared his throat. "Love, maybe we should take this somewhere else-"

"Knock it off with the pet names! Kol seriously, what the fu-"

In a split second, the bar disappeared around me. Instead, I found myself thrown over Kol's shoulder as he vampire-sped out of the bar. When we finally stopped, it was just inside the front door of the house we'd all rented, with Kol's back to me as he closed the front door.

I took my opening and hurled the nearest pillow at his head. It hit its target dead on, and I got halfway through picking up another one when Kol used his vamp speed to close the distance between us and grab my wrist.

"Hey! Knock it off, alright? What's the matter?"

"What's the matter? Are you kidding me Kol?" I wasn't sure whether I wanted to laugh, cry, scream, or all three, but I focused on the screaming part as I faced a bewildered Kol. "You absolute hypocrite, how dare you pull me out of that bar, and how dare youstep into my conversation like that!"

"What? Is this seriously all about me scaring off that one guy? You hardley knew him!"

"Obviously it's not completely about him, although that move still sucked, Kol! It's about you thinking you have some right to barge into my life and scare off a guy who might be interested in me! Because that's what it was, right? There's no way you thought I wanted him gone, so you did all this because you wanted him gone, right?"

"...I- I guess I didn't really like seeing him with you, but-"

"But nothing! Kol, we've had just a kind of flirty friendship forever. And whenever it seemed like we might be heading into something else, you were always the one to bail out. And last month, when you found Davina and got serious about someone else, it ripped my heart out. But I forced myself to take some time and get over it! Because that's your choice, and I care about you regardless of if you want to date me. But Kol, you have been clearly, specifically going after Davina lately. Which means you have absolutely no right to come tell some guy at the bar to back off when he's flirting with me."

"Darling, come on-"

I held up a hand to cut Kol off. The storm of emotions had finally started calming, hardening into something more manageable. I'd let myself struggle in this relationship without ever having an up front conversation for far too long. We were going to set some boundaries and have it all out, whether or not Kol wanted to. I was done with the rollercoaster ride.

"Kol, I know you call a lot of people 'darling', but if you want to stay friends with me then I'm going to need you to stop calling me that."

Kol just stared at me for a few moments, blinking and apparently processing everything I'd just said. His eyebrows knit together and he looked seriously distressed, but I refused to back down. After a moment, he took a half step towards me, his hand reaching out slightly towards my own.

"...And what if I don't think I want to be friends anymore, darling?"

I scoffed, another overwhelming wave of anger rising up and over me. I shook my head and turned around, walking a few steps away and hoping the space would help me cool down.

"You better not be flirting with me right now, Mikaelson, after everything I just said and everything you've been up to with Davina lately."

"Davina and I aren't together, love. We went on a few dates after Nik's little party, but we've hardly seen each other since then, and I don't intend to keep anything going. You might have noticed, but you started avoiding me after the ball and I had no idea why."

I turned to face Kol at last, scanning his face for any hint of something that might help me make up my mind on how to feel about all this. The corner of his mouth quirked up in a smile, and I scowled.

"I wish you'd said something earlier about this little crush of yours, honestly. I didn't think I had a shot in hell with you. It would've saved us both some time."

I shook my head, slowly at first and then much much faster. Before I completely realized what I was doing, I crossed the room and smacked Kol in the chest. He was one of the oldest vamipres to ever live, so it didn't have much of an impact on him, but it definitely made me feel better.

"Kol Mikaelson, you jackass! You do not get to use this as an excuse to confess feelings for me!"

He laughed, holding up his hands and clearly fighting a beaming smile. I slowly tapered off my assault, instead opting for crossing my arms and absolutely fuming at him.

"Seriously, Kol, this isn't funny. I show interest in someone else for the first time in our friendship, and all of a sudden you're dropping everything to come and confess feelings for me? You get why I don't feel like that's completely sincere, right?"

Kol sighed, the smile finally falling off his face. He moved to close the distance between us again, and this time, I let him.

"I'm sorry. I'm not joking because it's a joke to me, I promise. I've had feelings for you as long as I've known you, darling, but I didn't think I had a chance with you. And you've been important to everyone in our family for just about as long as we've known you. If I made things complicated, or made you want to stop spending time with all of us, my siblings would've literally killed me."

I snorted, looking down so Kol wouldn't see me fighting a smile off my face. No matter what, Kol always seemed able to make me smile when I least wanted to. Normally, it was one of my favorite things about him.

"What can I do, hm? What can I do to prove I mean what I'm saying?"

I sighed, crossing my arms and at last looking up at Kol. With wide eyes and no hint of the sardonic smile I knew so well, he looked more serious than I'd ever seen him before.

"...If you're really sure about this, Kol, that you really mean this...?"

"I do. Darling, I swear I do. I promise you, I won't waste the chance if you give me one."

"Okay, then prove it. I've never seen you go more than a week without flirting with some human, witch, vampire, werewolf, or whatever other sentient beings we come across. Make it a month, and maybe I'll believe what you said about being serious about this."

"...And will we be dating for that month?"

Slowly, I shook my head. "No. I want to, Kol, and I want that to be where this goes, but... I need to see that this is real first. I want to believe it is, so badly, but after centuries of meaningless flirting and dancing around each other without a conversation, of seeing you have flings every chance you get and watching each one of those burn out... I can't just take it on faith."

Kol sighed, glancing down at the ground before meeting my eyes again. He didn't say anything, just closed the little remaining distance between us as he brought his arms up to circle my waist. He pulled me to him, leaning down with a glance at my lips, and I didn't stop him as he pulled me into a kiss.

Fireworks exploded in my chest. My knees went a little week as I leaned further into Kol, resting my hands on his shoulders. After a few long moments, just as my common sense started returning to tell me what a mistake this was, Kol pulled back with a grin.

"Sorry, darling. But I couldn't wait a month to do that."

I snorted and shook my head, stepping carefully out of Kol's grip. He watched my every move with a smile, and my heart did a backflip when he licked his lips. I told my heart to calm the hell down.

"I... certainly didn't mind the potential preview," I admitted.

Kol laughed, running a hand through his hair as he looked at me.

"This is going be the longest month of my life... but if that's what it'll take, I'll make it through. I know it'll be worth it, especially now."

I rolled my eyes, but this time, I couldn't quite keep a smile off my face. Finally, my heart started returning to a normal pace, and I managed to meet Kol's eyes again without having a cardiac event.

"Alrlight, so... what do we do now? I don't know about you, but I don't particularly want to go back to the bar."

"Is that a joke, darling?" He raised an eyebrow at me, but I just shook my head. His mouth dropped open like he couldn't believe I was serious. "I may not get to do the activity I most want to do right now for another month, but I did just get my best friend back after extensive radio silence. We have so many episodes of our favorite shows to catch up on!"

"...You didn't watch them without me?"

"Of course not! Did you watch them without me?"

"Of course not!"

"Well then, there you have it! That's our evening. You make the popcorn, I'll turn on the tv."

I laughed as Kol turned on his heel, getting immediately to work. I still wanted to wait the month I'd made him promise; I still wasn't confident his romantic affections wouldn't wander. But despite all that, a massive weight lifted off my chest as I headed into the kitchen for snacks. I had my best friend back, and finally, after a ridiculous amount of waiting and dancing around each other and poor communication, we were actually getting a shot at our happy ending.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen

TVD/TO Taglist: @elenavampire21

[cursedcola]

Ok ok so you know the thing where it's like 'hey trust exercise' where person A runs up to person B and jumps in their arms? The one that became a meme with the hot coffee....

that. just that. Could you please write something for it using characters from twisted wonderland? Thank you!

A/N: I do know the thing lol. I think this is a super cute idea and will have some fun with it hehe...Sorry if it's not too long. I am writing this in between classes just to have a little mental break :) I also think this will work better with baby headcannons so I can do more characters. Since you did not specify any characters, I will be self indulgent. Prompt: Trust exercise! Do they catch you? Format: Baby headcannons huhuhu Characters: Everyone. Literally Everyone. I feel inspired for some reason. Warnings: None :) Tooth-ache fluff. Also not proofread. Likely grammar/spelling errors

Heartslabyul Dorm

Riddle Rosehearts

Catches you by a millisecond.

The moment he sees you running he instinctively drops the books in his hands

Yells for you to stop and puts his hands out in defense

Instinctively opens them when you jump and boom. Catch

My man has noodle arms. They instantly start to shake and you get dropped on your bum

Half-angry that you put him on the spot, and half-humiliated for dropping you. He is left shell-shocked for a moment before the fuse is lit

"What on EARTH were you thinking? Must you behave so childishly all the time?! Sometimes I wonder if you WANT me to have a heart attack....*sigh* come on. Get up. Are you injured at all?"

He thinks it's silly for you to test his 'trust,' like that. Don't do it again. Next time just talk to him.

….secretly relieved that he caught you.

Trey Clover

Arms are open before you even jump

The moment you started to speed up, he knew what would come next. It flusters him, and his ears burn but he lets you have your fun

Wraps one arm around your back and the other holds one of your legs around his waist. Nice and secure :)

Laughs a little bit before setting you down carefully

"Well, that was an excitable greeting. Maybe warn me next time, okay? What if I was holding something?"

Shakes his head in disbelief that you'd test him like this. Oh well. Its over now Best for him not to think on it.

Learns that Cater showed you the prank on Magicam, and makes his tea extra sweet. Revenge > cavities.

Cater Diamond

Does not catch you. In fact, he side-steps you.

You're quite literally sprawled on the floor and he's just standing there all smug. What? Don't even look at him like that. There's no way he could have caught you without toppling over

Cater prefers to not have a face full of dirt, thank you very much

He knows what you were trying to do, and also purposefully chose to 'fail'

"Hmm~ Now why would you use such a silly method to test me? Don't we take enough exams in class (Y/N)? You're no fair..."

Despite the taunts, he holds out a hand to help you up. He'll clean your face a bit with a handkerchief and leave a cheeky peck on your cheek before going about the rest of his day

Ace Trappola

Tries to catch you. Does not succeed.

In his defense, Ace is never on full alert. Especially during the school day.

You started running at him and he full on panicked. A genuine scream to stop tore through his throat, and he held his arms out

You, in fact, did not stop. Therefore you both fell on the ground with him on the bottom

Ace is not happy

"What is wrong with you?! If my back's broke then the medical bill is on your shoulders, not mine!"

When you explain to him, he still is pissed but does feel bad for yelling at you

"...well, whatever. You don't need some stupid test to know I'm trustworthy anyways. I prove it every day, right?"

....right? Please say yes or else he will overthink this hardcore later.

Deuce Spade

Catches you on instinct.

The moment you start running he assumes something is wrong, and opens his arms to give you a hug. When you jump? Well, that's just an extra step

His feet slide back against the ground and he wobbles for a millisecond. However, he's steady. He wraps both arms around your waist firmly, and leans back to get a look at your face.

"What's wrong?! Why are you in such a hurry?!"

His eyes flicker anxiously between the direction you came from and your face

He's relieved when you tell him that everything is okay, and that you just wanted to see if he would catch you

"Don't scare me like that! I was seriously worried!"

He's still holding you, and becomes bashful once the adrenaline dials down. He mutters a quick apology while gently setting you down. Avoiding eye-contact, he excuses himself and promises to hang out later. For now, be still his beating heart

Savanaclaw Dorm

Leona Kingscholar

Yes. You don't give him enough time to think through the situation, and so he acts. Albeit a bit roughly.

The moment you jump he's reaching with one arm, startled. It wraps around your waist and hoists you over his shoulder. The other hand reaches for his wand, and he's on high alert.

Says nothing. Just grunts upon impact and scans the area.

You'll have to pat his back a few times to be let down, and it is needless to say that he is not pleased with your joke

His eyebrows draw downward with his classic scowl, and he's lowkey disappointed in you. He thought you more straight-headed than to do something like this

"You- ugh. Whatever. I caught you, so I win, right? Happy?"

Deems scolding you more trouble than it's worth. Last thing he needs is for you to get mad at him. That'll just give him an even bigger headache.

Ruggie Bucchi

Does...not. He knows that you're coming. He heard the footsteps a mile away. He simply is a snot-nosed little arse

You're running at him from behind, and the moment you get near he steps to the side. He does his little shishishishi laugh when you face plant on the floor.

When you don't get up, he crouches down and pokes your head.

"Hey, you alright? That was a pretty harsh fall. I can't imagine what caused it,"

Laughs again, but feels a bit bad if you don't reciprocate. Okay. You got him. He's sooooooo untrustworthy. An utter fool, if you will.

With a tsk, he grabs you by the elbow and eases you up.

"Yup, yup. I'm cruel, I know. Let's go get a snack, alright? It's on me - and by me, I mean that it's on Leona shishishisi"

Jack Howl

This boulder doesn't even flinch. Like clockwork, he's startled but instinctively readies his stance. You quickly land safely in his arms, and are back on the ground in a jiffy. Almost as if you never tried to tackle him in the first place.

He holds you at arms length with an eyebrow raised.

"Uhm....are you good? What was that about?"

He doesn't understand how catching you proves that he is trustworthy, but if it makes you happy then he'll do it as often as you'd like. Just give him a heads up next time, ok?

Won't admit it, but he liked holding you. Even if it was for a fleeting moment, it felt right. If you ever asked for a piggy-back ride or to be carried, he wouldn't be opposed at all. The realization embarrasses him greatly.

Octovinelle Dorm

Azul Ashengrotto

Does not, and is extremely ashamed. He does not fail tests, academic or otherwise!

He’s not weak. This man has a very healthy diet and regularly exercises. He is confident that he would have succeeded with no issue, had you not startled him. Our little cephalopod here gets flustered very easily. Only by you though.

Normally he can hide it but you 100% startled him. Can you even judge? One moment all was peaceful and the next thing he knows you’re barreling towards him. All giddy and like “catch me, catch me!” …ugh. His heart couldn’t take it.

What’s worse is that Jade caught you in his stead. He’s appreciative that you were not harmed by his lack of reflex….but the humiliation. Dear gods.

He demands that you do it again. Leave him and then try again another time when he isn’t expecting it…which is impossible since he will be on high alert 24/7. Azul fails to understand that the purpose of the test is now null, and that it tests for impulse

“A-again! Go on. Get a running start and do it again! Into my awaiting arms!…do not argue. I will not fail this time so give me another chance,”

His ego requires it, so just do it. He can’t stand the idea of failing and that image of Jade carrying you is lingering in his mind

Floyd Leech

Catches you easily. Nothing startles this guy. Well, okay, some things do. Nothing that’s physical though.

He hears you yelling for him? Well that’s just a normal day in his life. You’re running his way”? Awwwwwwweeee his little Shrimpy is so excited to see him! That’s so rare!

He’s running to meet you half way. It nearly makes you halt but the test needs answers!

He hooks his hands under your arms mid-air, and spins you around at arms length before bringing you in for a hug. All the while he has a giant grin on his face

“Did you miss me that much??? I guess I haven’t been giving you enough attention…not that I’d mind it if you do this every day hehe~”

He doesn’t care about the test, so long as you do it again. You won’t be leaving his arms any time soon si get comfortable

Jade Leech

Another to catch you easily. He does it flawlessly, like catching a balloon or a feather

He hears your approach and chooses to ignore it until the last moment. Then he turns effortlessly to capture you bridal style, set you down, and return to what he was originally doing. If anyone’s in shock, it’s you.

Then he’ll finish up and turn to you as if nothing even happened. While his gentle smile and hand on his heart are unknowing - the smug crinkle of his eyes says otherwise. He is highly amused, not in your little stunt but in the reaction he managed to create

Caresses your face with one of his gloved hands and asks how your day has gone. Once answered, he leans down to plant a light kiss on your cheek before leaving

“Oh, I almost forgot. Please be more careful in the future. Had it not been you, I would have reacted much differently to someone ‘attacking’ fufu. I love your enthusiasm dearly, and am always happy to hold you. You need only ask,”

Scarabia Dorm

Kalim Al' Asim

Sunshine meets you half way. He sees you running at him with a mega grin and instantly knows what’s going on. Social cues be damned, he wants to be loved

More like it’s you catching him. He just can’t help himself. He jumps at you before you even get a chance to do the same.

His arms go around your shoulders in the biggest hug imaginable. He knows better than to throw his whole body weight on you, so he settles for merely hugging and swaying your body from side to side

It’s sickeningly sweet how giddy he is. He pulls you at arms length before peppering light kisses along your cheeks

“I missed you so much! Can I have another one? Please?”

Oh! A test? How fun! He’ll take this one many times if it means you’ll hug him more often. He passed? Yippieeeeeee

Jamil Viper

Catches you, begrudgingly. He’s known about the trend and was frankly expecting you to try it. He just didn’t know when.

Jamil is no fool. He could let you fall. It would be funny. Maybe even make his day.

But then you’d be upset with him. He really could do without that. Not if it could be prevented

So the moment he sees you rushing towards him, Jamil knows what to do. He quickly sets down whatever he’s doing and takes position

With an oof and a momentary scowl from discomfort, he’s got ya. One arm around you’re bum and the other your waist. You wrap both of your arms around his shoulders, and with a sigh he just lets you koala hang for a moment

“Are we done now? Not to be rude, but my arms are tired and I would prefer that we not make a spectacle of ourselves”

He asks if you had fun. You did? Well, he supposes that it can be done again. In private only though. No more pranks.

Pomefiore Dorm

Vil Schoenheit

Does not catch you on purpose, and then insists that you do it again.

You see, he did not want to encourage your childish antics, so he purposefully pretended that he was not strong enough to catch you

A lie, obviously. He is very strong despite his pretty boy exterior. Instead of calling him out for it, you play along. A mocking sigh of resignation flies out as you not so subtly comment on his lack of strength.

Oh, you're absolutely right, Vil! I'm sorry for over estimating you...hmm, perhaps I can try again with Neige-

"You will do no such thing. Now, I am going to walk away and once I turn the corner you are going to run at me. Is that clear?"

Epel Felmeir

Catches you! Listen. My boy here spent his entire childhood lugging around crates of apples, cutting down trees, and running through fields. There is no way that he lacks the stamina to catch you. Maybe he can't hold you for an extended period, but those cinnamon stick arms are built for catching

He jolts when you scream his name, and he loses his composure. The moment you jump he lets out a string of curses and drops everything to catch you

The impact sends Epel teetering, and he fall son his butt with you on top of him

"O-o-oi! What'd ya think you're doing?! I nearly split my tailbone!"

Is slightly saddened that he couldn't keep steady. If only he was stronger like the Savanaclaw students...

Rook Hunt

Catches you with grace. There isn't much to say here.

Our princely hunter need not predict your movements, or pay attention to your plotting. Where's the fun in that?

Non non, what a sight for sore eyes. Rook swoons the moment you call his name, and his pupils basically turn to hearts when he sees you running towards him

With a laugh, he opens his arms wide and catches you in an instant. He shifts you into a bridal carry, and dips you down to plant a loving hiss on your nose.

Bonus points if you kiss him back along where his freckles would be without makeup. Oh this man is dying

"Mon coheur....what a wonderful surprise! If you were to greet me like this every day for the rest of my life, I would die a happy man indeed,"

Ignihyde Dorm

Idia Shroud

Catches you

On accident :)

More like you just fall in his lap, but it still counts? Kind of

He was in his room, multitasking both controlling his floating tablet around school while also playing the latest MMO

Just when he started to wonder where you might be (normally you find his tablet during study break) he hears his door burst open

Startled, he whips around in his chair to see you running at him. He lets go of the computer mouse and keyboard on impulse. Right when you jump and basically straddle him in his chair

Idia.exe has stopped working. From the sudden entrance, to the physical contact, to your giddy rambling about...something? He can't hear past the buzzing in his ears and just nods along

Hyper aware that you are sitting in his lap still. Attempting to control himself...and failing.

"U-uhhh, can y-you please move? Like, off of me? I c-can get you a chair,"

You comply, and he calms down for a second. He's not complaining but why would you -

an internet trend? Ortho told you to?

....Idia doesn't know if he should thank his brother or scold him.

Ortho Shroud (PLATONIC!)

Little Ortho meets you half way! You do not get to jump because he sees your arms open for a hug and does not waste a moment

With you basically being one of his best friends (and hopefully second sibling. Ortho is rooting for his big bro to win your heart!) he loves your hugs

When you ruffle his hair after letting go, his eyes crinkle into the cutest little upturned crescents and he laughs

"You know...I bet brother would love one of your hugs! You should go surprise him!"

Diasomnia Dorm

Malleus Draconia

Child of man, what a wonderful surprise?

You are fulfilling this man's fantasy. You know the phrase 'looking through rose-colored class'?

You're running towards him and he's watching like it's an early 2000s AMV on Youtube

Or like a Tik Tok edit. You know the ones

Drops everything. AND I MEAN EVERYTHING

It is like this man loses all sense of his surroundings. Lovesick fool.

Opens his arms wide with a soft smile, and when you jump he barely flinches. Your arms wrap around his shoulders and legs around his waist. One of his arms holds the small of your back, and the other your rear. He...well, yes he is aware and is doing it on purpose. Our prince isn't uhm...well, he is a man. A gentlemen, but still a man nonetheless.

"What a welcome greeting. Are you comfortable? I would like to remain this way for longer, if you do not mind"

He holds you tight with his head comfortably buried in between your neck and shoulder. Malleus lightly kisses the fabric of your uniform blazer, before returning to his prior activities like nothing is amiss

Lilia Vanrouge

...I guess? It's complicated.

You come at this bat from behind in an attempt to surprise him

He's not that old, y'know. Lilia senses you trailing him the moment you begin. Then again, he always knows when you're within a five mile radius.

What? Is it really so bad for him to seek out the object of his affections? Anyone else would do the same. It's not like he's being a creep about it...you just have a unique presence.

He is also well versed in internet trends. Lilia can't help but humor you. He walks around unknowing and occasionally snickering. Some question what he finds so humorous, and he waves them off with a cheeky grin

He senses your intent to attack, and doesn't turn around when you call his name. You jump at him from behind and koala hug his back

If it weren't for the hands holding your calves, you'd think him ignorant.

'Lilia? Lilia~ Hello? Are you already deaf so soon-'

Faster than you can comprehend, he spins you around to face him and pecks your lips

"Why hello there, my dear. Care to finish that sentence?"

'....no'

Sebeck Zigvolt

Does not catch you. He initially thought you were aiming for Malleus, and stood in front of his superior to protect him

Oh he should have known! Betrayal! You have betrayed him!

...why are you calling his name? WHY ARE YOU LAUGHING?

Oh seven it's one of your pranks again, isn't it? Whya re you always doing such-

When you yell for him to catch you, Sebeck does so without a second thought

but he fails. His offensive stance wasn't fit for taking the imbalance of weight, and he couldn't get a stable grip on you

Gravity pulls him forwards on a path where his weight would crush you

So Sebeck quickly wraps one of his hands around the back of your head, and flips so he takes the impact instead

"Have you gone mad?! I genuinely cannot fathom what is going on in your brain anymore. Who put you up to this? What if you had been injured? What if you injured Lord Malleus?....stop laughing and listen to me!"

Silver

Do not startle a man with a sword.

Once again, do NOT startle a man with a SWORD.

Silver catches you. Easily. He also thinks it is absolutely adorable that you trust him enough to do so.

It's just that you could have warned him. Y'know, considering that he is armed and trained to draw his weapon at the slightest sign of a threat :)

Lucky for you, Silver is high-key vigilant since he has a tendency to doze off to dreamland. He sensed your presence but couldn't pinpoint where...

Imagine his surprise when you jump down from above :) The hell do you think you are, his father?

On instinct he reaches out and catches you in a bridal carry. Your rear knocks against the sword hanging at his side, and with a grunt he places you down on the floor to check for injury

"While I love spending time with you, can you please use the door next time? For my sanity?"

[the-offside-rule]

Liam Lawson (VCARB) - Secret Santa

Day 9 of Christmas

Prompt: F1 secret santa exchange

25 Days Of Christmas

The rain drizzled down the Brazilian paddock, but the cool air inside the garages and motorhomes buzzed with excitement. It was media day, and it was that time of year again: picking the names for the Santa exchange, organized for the drivers to loosen up before the final race of the season. Rookie F1 driver Y/n Y/l/n stood by, a little nervous but mostly excited. This was her first year in Formula 1, and being asked to participate in the fun, she felt like part of the big family she’d always dreamed of joining.

After a quick drawing session, Y/n had pulled out a familiar name: Liam Lawson. A small smile crept onto her face. She had known Liam since they were kids, racing karts together. She remembered how obsessed he used to be (and still secretly was) with Cars, especially Lightning McQueen. It was the perfect opportunity for a gift, a playful nod to the good old days.

The paddock buzzed with energy as drivers bustled about, swapping jokes, preparing for the annual Secret Santa event. It was a light-hearted break from the intensity of the track, a chance for the drivers to relax and have a little fun. Fans eagerly awaited the video, and speculation had been rampant online about who would get who for Secret Santa this year. Y/N stood outside the Haas motorhome, tapping her foot nervously. She loved Christmas, but this event had her more on edge than usual. There was something about the thought of exchanging gifts with her fellow drivers (especially Liam) that made her heart race a little faster. She’d had a crush on Liam for as long as she could remember, ever since their karting days. It wasn’t exactly a secret to anyone but him, apparently. And according to the endless Twitter threads and Instagram posts, fans desperately wanted them to get together too.

The crew had already set up the cameras in the VCARB motorhome when Liam walked in, a bit curious but eager to see what he’d gotten. His eyes immediately lit up as he spotted the Lightning McQueen logo on the wrapping paper. "You ready for your gift?" The media coordinator grinned, appearing beside him. Liam forced a smile. "I guess so. Who got me again?" The coordinator's grin widened, clearly hiding the fact they knew exactly what was about to unfold. "You'll see." They teased, watching as he tore into the gifts, pulling out each item with increasing excitement.

"No way!"He exclaimed, pulling out the Crocs first, then the cap, then the socks. "This is amazing!" The camera zoomed in on his wide grin as he held up the Lightning McQueen backpack, laughing in disbelief. But it was the matching Lightning and Mater keyrings that truly caught his attention. His fingers brushed over the necklace, and for a moment, his smile softened into something more thoughtful.

"Whoever got this-" He started, looking up. "definitely knows me well." He looks across the paddock seeing Y/n grinning from ear to ear. "You?!" His eyes twinkled with excitement as he lifted up the keyrings. "I know youre obsessed with Cars so its the only logical thing to get you, mate." Y/n stammered, feeling heat rush to her cheeks. "And I know you still are, so I thought..." She trailed off as Liam scanned the matching keyrings. He chuckled softly, the sound making her stomach flip. "This is amazing, Y/n! I dont think you understand how much I actually love this." He thumbed the keyrings for a moment, then looked back up at her, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his lips. "Do you realize what this means?"

Her brows furrowed. "What?" Liam dangled the keyrings in front of her. "It means our keys will always match." Y/n's heart did somersaults. "Yeah, I guess they will." She laughed, trying to play it cool, though internally, she was screaming. Oh my God, stop being cute! Liam glanced at the media team with a small smile. "I think this is the best Secret Santa gift I've ever gotten. Thank you, Y/n. Seriously." He smiled as he got up and pulled her in for a hug. "You’re welcome." She murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, still trying to process how her heart could be pounding so loud. With Liam grinning down at his gift, the media team signaled it was time to switch gears. Y/n waved at him one last time as she was led to the Haas garage for her turn to open her gift.

As she arrived, she found herself nervously glancing around. Her palms were sweaty, and her heart was still doing its usual Liam-induced gymnastics. The crew handed her a large, neatly wrapped gift, and she immediately noticed the familiar handwriting on the tag.

For Y/n. Hope you love this as much as I did picking it out. - Liam.

Her breath hitched. "Liam? He got me?" She carefully peeled back the pink wrapping paper, revealing a collection of Barbie-themed goodies. "Why, Barbie?" The crew asked. "I used to have a Barbie helmet, and my first kart was pink because I just loved Barbie." She smiled. There was a Barbiecolouringg book, a vintage Barbie and Ken doll, and at the bottom, a custom-made shirt. It was bright pink, of course, with a photo of her edited over a Barbie doll under the words, She’s Everything and below that, Liam’s face had been superimposed on a Ken doll with the words, He’s just Ken. Y/n burst out laughing, her heart swelling with warmth. She held up the shirt for the camera, turning to face the crew. "This is incredible. Oh my God, he did not!"

Her laughter died down, replaced by a fond smile. "He's the sweetest." She smiled. She stared at the note, her heart beating a little faster than usual. He remembered. She looked into the camera, her cheeks flushing pink. "Thank you, Liam. This is perfect." She said, a soft sincerity in her voice before turning away, overwhelmed by the emotions that had hit her all at once.

Y/n: Liam! I love the gift, thank you so much. I can’t believe you remembered the Barbie suit! You’re the best.

Back in the VCARB garage, Liam felt his phone buzz in his pocket. Seeing Y/N's name pop up, he couldn't help the grin that spread across his face.

Liam: Of course, I remembered, I’m glad you liked it. You totally made my day with the Lightning McQueen stuff.

Y/n: You’re welcome :) And I’m still laughing at the shirt. Did you really make that yourself?

Liam: What can I say? I’m a man of many talents ;)

Y/n: Well, you did a great job. Might have to wear it to the paddock tomorrow

Liam: You wouldn't dare.

Y/n: Watch me, Lawson.

Liam chuckled softly as he pocketed his phone. The media team might not have captured it on camera, but he had a sneaking suspicion that today’s gift exchange was going to be a memorable one, not just for the fans, but for them, too. Meanwhile, Y/n leaned back against the wall of the Haas garage, a wide smile on her face as she looked at the keyring in her hand. Maybe the fans were onto something after all.

As the video aired a few days later, fans went wild with excitement. Twitter exploded with hashtags like #LiamAndY/n and #SecretSantaGoals. Everyone had seen the chemistry, and for once, Y/n and Liam couldn’t deny that maybe—just maybe—they weren’t so delusional after all.

[ravencincaide]

Not my soulmate

Summary:  No, absolutely not. You refused to even consider the fact that your universe's chosen soulmate was one of the most brutal, deadliest and wanted men of Yokohama. And none other than an ability user! No, absolutely and utterly no, even if he was a little cute..

Pairing: Fem reader x Chuuya Nakahara 

Raven’s Special prompt: Soulmate AU : “Chuuya soulmate au ooh it could be the one where soulmates have their names written down somewhere on them”

Warnings: Cursing, annoyed Chuuya and bratty reader

Enjoy~

You looked at the news segment; the picture of a manic looking man with ginger hair partially hidden beneath the shade of his tophat. Piercing eyes that stole your breath and the boyish grin that mocked the viewer of the security footage from which the picture was taken. The photo was surrounded by huge letters which warned viewers about the dangerous man. “ Do not engage. Comply with his demands and when safe alert the authorities. Executive of Port Mafia:  Nakahara Chuuya is– ” 

You tore your gaze away and down to your bare forearm where cursive red letters glowed out the name of your soulmate. Then you flickered your eyes back up towards the news segment which described the executives' latest atrocities. Then back down at your arm- back up to the news. Down to your arm. Up to the news. 

Then you screamed. 

“ Jesus Y/N are you alright?!” You heard your mothers voice echo from the hallway accompanied by her rushed steps. The time it took her to reach you was just enough for you to pull the sleeves of your shirt down, in the process knocking over a cup of hot tea onto the table. As she entered, you flashed her a guilty smile for needlessly worrying her.  “ Did you burn yourself?” You shook your head in answer “ Good, what got you screaming? Did you find your soulmate or something?” 

You faked a laugh then cracked at your mothers pointed look. “ Yeah on the news” you said with a roll of your eyes. Thankfully the wanted poster was replaced with the weather forecast narrated by an elderly gentleman.

Your mother laughed loudly at the sight of the pensioner“ Ohh that’s just a coincidence- common name you know?” she brushed a few stray strands of hair out of your face reassuringly “ I’m going to head out for some errands then visit a few friends–” 

“ - have fun and I’ll keep my phone close in case you miss the last train” you promised. Your cheeky remark earned you a glare and a mouthed ‘one time’ before the woman strolled out of the apartment in an almost guilty fashion- as if to say the second time could be tonight. You smiled a little but your smile dropped the second your eyes landed back onto the news segment. 

The warning poster was back with the ginger haired murderer; cocky grin, black mafia coat and all. 

“ No, no way” you muttered as your fingers trailed over the material above the matemark. “ Just the same kanji- not even the same pronunciation. Not even the same name!” you told yourself. Forced yourself to believe that until the name on the screen stopped making your heart beat faster. Now then to the mess with the tea–

You froze as you heard the doorbell. Then rolled your eyes at your mothers forgetful nature. The doorbell rang again and again, an impatient sound that made you groan out loud as though you were a teenager again “ I hear it. I’m coming, I’m coming. Sheesh, if you're in such a hurry you should have just taken the keys with you in the first place.” 

You opened the door and your blood ran cold. Your mouth was dry as you came face to face with piercing blue orbs of the man in the news segment. Before you could react, a gloved hand reached up and he tipped his top hat towards you in politely gentlemanly greeting. 

“ You’re Y/N yeah?” his voice was rough, language of a typical delinquent which did not match his appearance, it made your lips tug downwards into a frown. 

“ N-no sorry wrong apartment” You attempted to shut the door but he stuck his dress shoes in the way. A gloved hand grabbed the wood and forced it wide opened again. 

“ Ehh you sure? Coulda sworn this was your picture? Nevermind, sure you ain't lacking a soulmate?” although flirty there was an undeniable warning in his words as he crumpled up your official picture and stuffed it in his pocket. 

It was a warning you ignored. 

“ N-no sorry, I’ve already met my soulmate!” you lied and hoped it was believable. 

“ Oi– okay if that’s the case dollface, then you wouldn’t mind stripping just enough for me to see the mark, yeah?” Chuuya grabbed your arm and kept you in-place as he drew closer, hot breath fanned your face. Eyes glared daggers as though he saw right through your lie. Your mind replayed the warnings from the news which so bluntly told all civilians to stay the hell away from him and if encountered then;  

Comply with his demands and when safe alert the authorities.

But since you already lied to him and refused his orders- how fucked were you? And would it at least be a merciful death?

Chuuyas impatient growl filled you with more and more dread. It only increased as he yanked you closer to himself.  “ Where the hell is it?” His free hand began tugging on your shirt. Lifted it up just high enough to see your stomach, then cursed when the mark wasn’t there. “ I said where the fuck is it?!” 

The way Chuuya yelled; desperate attempts to find your mark and then the realization that he would kill you once he saw it filled you with a sense of hopelessness. But with it came anger; Why you? Why now? And why did this bastard have to be your soulmate? And more important why did he seek you out? 

‘Well if you were going to die then you would be damned sure it wouldn't be without a fight’ That was your last thought before you raised your knee and hit him in the groin. You heard him huff, saw him double over in pain and used those precious seconds to pry his hands off yourself. 

And then you ran. 

Author Note: Well it's not my best work but it was fun to write. And i managed to get it right below the 1000 word word limit- Yay me! Hope this special made you laugh- or at least crack a smile and until next Sunday.

Update: Find part two here, disobedient soulmate

Can't wait so long? Check out Raven's masterlist for more stuff to read!

©ravencincaide 2024. Do not copy/repost/translate or spread my work(s) without my explicit permission. If you see any of my work(s) reposted/copied anywhere else without my consent, please inform me!

[brian-in-finance]

Inside A Hundredweight of Stones • Part 2

🧵 Outlander Starz: The incredible performances this episode absolutely tore my guts out.

Can we just take a moment to appreciate David Berry, who shows us a raw, heartbreaking, and visceral side of Lord John we've never seen before? Episode 711 is a massive emotional journey for John as much as it is for Claire.

Navigating that relationship with Claire is hugely complicated and hugely difficult. I think what we learn about John through that is not only his generosity but also his skill.

We understand how he's survived. That world is so political. You see him being able to bring those skills into a personal setting.

It's been such a privilege to work with David... David as an actor is really brave and absolutely up for pushing himself and his character as far as possible. — LISA CLARKE, DIRECTOR

I think this is probably one of the most challenging episodes I’ve ever filmed…

David was amazing. We talked about it quite a lot. In many ways, it sort of mirrored Lord John Grey. He was much more brave about stepping into the unknown and finding a way through it. — CAITRÍONA BALFE, CLAIRE FRASER

🧵 Outlander Starz: And of course, we have to give it up for Caitríona Balfe, whose performance took my heart and smashed it into a million pieces.

I've always admired Caitríona's work. To know that these storylines were coming up and to get that chance to work with her again on some material that, I think, really challenged both us and everyone, was something that I was really looking forward to. I never felt that there was anyone else that I would rather do that with because I knew that Caitríona was going to be committed, courageous, and bold with the material.

To be led by her in those scenes, to be supporting her in those scenes... her generosity was amazing. — DAVID BERRY, LORD JOHN GREY

🧵 Outlander Starz: Fun fact: SOMEONE was smiling during that wedding... just not who (or what) you think. The scene called for vows said to-camera.

Said David Berry, "I found that quite difficult. I just didn't feel it. I asked for another take, got a piece of tape, drew a little smiley face on it, stuck it next to the camera, and that's what l was giving my vows to. So Lord John is actually wed to a little piece of tape on the side of a camera and not Claire."

🧵Outlander Starz: The mood at Lord John's party may have been somber but Claire's dress was absolutely dazzling. Costume Designer Trisha Biggar called it one of the most complicated, time consuming pieces created in her time on Outlander.

The dress was crafted almost entirely by hand out of teal lace, built in a couture fashion with lace applied on lace (no seams), then covered with over a thousand tiny crystal stones. The stomacher was partly vintage, embellished with pearls, gold thread, and beads.

🧵 Outlander_Starz: And what about Claire's party hair? According to Hair and Makeup Designer Ann McEwan, ladies of the time would use cages in their hair or wigs to add height, which we see on Claire here.

The women of 1700s Philadelphia actually would have had *bigger* more audacious hair than depicted on Outlander but a slightly lower profile helps ensure vision lines on-screen.

Inside A Hundredweight of Stones • Part 2 of 3

Threads 🧵

Remember… this episode is a massive emotional journey for John as much as it is for Claire.

[oddballwriter]

💳💥💳💥💳 THE SYSTEM WITH A METALHEAD I BEG OF YOU!! ( if comfy ofc )

Like short 5'2-5'3 reader who looks SCARY as shit and wears all black+tatted but is super cutesy until someone says the wrong shit and they get absolutely insane?

feel like steven would be like raging heart eyes

( maybe smutty maybe not either wayyy..)

- 🌑

Steven Grant

Steven was scared of you at first, that's for sure. The all black and scary look definitely worked on him

It wouldn't be until you approached him that he realized you weren't going to bite him

He finds the difference between the two of you funny, positively.

To me, he seems more like a listener of ABBA and The B-52, those kind of older songs that are more up beat. Something that some suburban dad definitely has on vinyl

I firmly believe that Steven fucking loves the B-52s for some reason, he just has those vibes

Softer type of music, you know? Definitely not metal

But he does enjoy that you're kind and really nice rather than acting the part of how you look

But the one time when you two were out and someone insulted you both and you proceeded to yell at them and cuss them out was a day that he thinks about a lot. You weren't even yelling at them for insulting you, you just tore them a new one because they insulted him

He felt something that day, and he's not saying that he wants you to yell at him, but if you bossed him around a little then he's going to do it with a tent in his pants

He's too embarrassed to admit that but it's defiantly something that's there and you'll catch on someday

Back to the actual topic though, Steven doesn't like metal but he supports you liking it since it makes you happy

Would attend a concert with you but he'd have ear plugs in so that the music doesn't hurt his ears or stress him out

Also, you will have to leave him in the back because he's not going in the mosh pit, he would not survive. I'm sorry but he's not built for that

Marc Spector

Okay, Marc doesn't really listen to metal, he's not an avid metal listener. But I'm sure he's listened to a few songs and knows the more mainstream bands

He thinks you're cool though. Similar to my HCs for them with a goth partner, he finds it fascinating how you don't care how people perceive you and just be yourself. You're happy and he uses that as inspiration to be himself too

Marc would listen to metal music with you if it comes up, maybe you expand his knowledge of the genre

Do I think he'd handle a mosh pit? No, I think it would stress him out too much. Too much is happening and it freaks him out. Loves seeing you having fun though so go mosh for him

Marc also respects the fact that you're still polite and not true to how people think you would be, but 100% if you tell someone off then he's all for it. You tell 'em!

Since I went on a whole side tangent on Steven's music tastes, it's only right I do it for Marc

Marc sort of shares the same taste as Steven where he listens to songs that were around when they were younger. He's a classics kind of guy. He likes it when he hears people from back then on the radio

This man refuses to leave the 80's and 90's music scene. You will have to pry it from him in the field of reeds

Jake Lockley

Jake is such a "I love all genres" guy, he listens to everything and finds something to like in it. Even country, yeah sure modern country sucks but older ones are the ones he talks about when e talks about country music

So yeah, Jake definitely likes metal and can get into it. So feel free to play it around him

He also thinks you're cool and loves your whole look. Buys a shirt to match

100% would love to see you tear someone a new one so long as they deserve it. This man is an enabler, he's in the back cheering you on

Also, if you ask him to go to a concert with you, he will say yes so fast

Jake would survive the mosh pit, he would thrive

It lets him let out some stuff that he's been holding back and energy that he can't really put anywhere else

Honestly Jake would be so clearly into your whole metalhead life. He thinks it's hot. He finds it sexy. There's something about the loud music and look that does something for him and he's not going to hide that

Honestly, yell at him in bed, it'll be good foreplay if you're down

[carriedawatermelon]

Ronancetober, day five. Back to pure fluff. Auntsy-verse. Another short one, feat. Robin Harrington, teen Nancy’s poor choices in decor, and Milk Duds as consolation.

Prompt: Action Movie

They’re in the theatre for Inception, a large popcorn in Robin’s lap where she sits between her aunts. Robin has Milk Duds and Nancy has M&Ms and they all have sodas the size of their heads, as is their summer tradition.

All of Steve’s kids come to Aunt Camp for a weekend, usually more, cascading so that there are various combinations of little Harringtons in the house but always also at least a little one-on-one time. When the oldest Harrington called in the middle of her first year college exams to ask if she could still come to Aunt Camp, halfway to tears and underslept, they’d made it very clear that they wanted her to come forever, that there was no age limit.

Now she’s finished with her sophomore year and talking with Robin about her fall internship, Robin very engaged and also occasionally throwing Milk Duds at her niece’s mouth. Little Robin catches them, pausing easily and smiling as she chews, because they are alike in that way.

They’re early, because Nancy’s niece is like her in this way, and Nancy sips her Coke while she listens and asks questions, and quietly applauds a particularly impressive catch. She also plucks two Milk Duds from Robin’s hair.

It’s just the three of them in the theatre, matinee on a movie that’s been out for a month, so when the preview for Mission Impossible 4 comes on, little Robin doesn’t bother hiding her groan, booing at the screen.

“God, when are they gonna stop making these? That guy’s the worst.”

Nancy knows it’s coming before Robin says a word, sighs loudly as, right on cue, her partner says, “You know Nance had a poster of him on her wall.”

“Oh my god!” Little Robin’s staring at her, delighted horror in the light of the movie screen, and her namesake grins at Nancy from over her shoulder. “Auntsy.” She gestures at the screen, where Tom Cruise is looking very serious. Something blows up. “Him?”

“Yes, him, thank you very much. It was the 80s. Risky Business was very popular.”

“Was it a Risky Business poster, Nance?”

Nancy cuts her eyes at Robin, arches a brow, but she’s smiling, happy to play, happy to be far, far away from the life where she tore Tom Cruise from Teen Beat and taped him to her wall.

Little Robin laughs, still delighted. “Oh my god, this is amazing. Leah’s gonna lose it.”

“It was twenty-five years ago. There were some things I didn’t understand about myself at the time,” she points out, reaching across and stealing the Milk Duds unrepentantly, ignoring Robin’s squawk. “And I thought you went to Carleton. Don’t you know about compulsory heterosexuality? Where do you have to send a kid to get liberal brainwashing done right these days?”

Little Robin waves her hand dismissively and Nancy sees her at six and sixteen and twenty all at once. “Oh, please. You’re, like, disgustingly happy with R1 and your gay little garden. You’ve got a signed panel of Dykes to Watch Out For framed on your wall. You’re driving to Ann Arbor to see Brandi Carlile in two weeks.”

“Dial it back there, Franklin Graham,” Robin says with a laugh.

Little Robin rolls her eyes. “Still not over the fact that you’re going without me, by the way. Anyway, nice try with the comphet Auntsy, but I get to make fun of you for having a Tom Cruise poster. And so does Leah. And also probably everyone else. Does my mom know?”

Nancy sits forward to make eye contact with her partner, does not offer to return the Milk Duds. “You know it’s going to be your fault when all we get for Christmas this year is Tom Cruise paraphernalia.”

Robin shrugs, grinning, and she’s very handsome, and Nancy shakes a Milk Dud into her palm and eats it with malice. Lips twitching in amusement, Robin brings her hand to her heart in false mourning, and Nancy shakes her head and sits back.

Little Robin is squinting in Robin’s direction, tilting her head.

“Hello?” Robin says. “Big Bird, do you copy?”

“You know…” Little Robin’s voice is thoughtful but there’s an undertone to it that Nancy knows well. “Young Tom Cruise. R1 with her 1998 hair. I can see the resemblance.”

Nancy barks a laugh, Robin making a sound of indignation.

“Excuse me?!”

Little Robin shrugs, sits back and focuses on the popcorn, grinning to herself. She knows what she’s done. Nancy loves her, the little shit.

Nancy offers the Milk Duds back to Robin, who takes them with a pout. They are a consolation and she knows it, chews one sadly.

“I don’t look like Tom Cruise,” she half-asks, and Nancy loves her, too.

“Of course not, baby.” She uses her best patronizing voice, smiles into her straw at little Robin’s snort.

“Nance! Nancy Wheeler. I do not look like Tom Cruise.”

“Shhh,” Nancy says. “It’s starting.”

“You’re both very mean to me.”

Two nights later, little Robin gone back to her parents, Robin appears in the door of Nancy’s home office in a button-down and crew socks, candlestick in hand.

“Oh my god,” Nancy laughs, out of her chair and in Robin’s space immediately. “Where the hell did you get that candlestick?”

“Thrift store,” she says proudly, Nancy’s hands already working at the buttons of her shirt. “The very nice woman at the checkout confirmed that I do not look like Tom Cruise.”

“Don’t talk to me about Tom Cruise while I’m trying to fuck you,” Nancy says, smiling into the skin of Robin’s neck.

“Copy that. Should I get a flight suit, though?”

Nancy finishes with the last button, lets her teeth graze Robin’s skin, and does not answer the question.

[wexhappyxfew]

what about feral bucky for the prompt: “If you even THINK about touching him/her/them, I’ll kill you.”? there's no way he isn't crazy protective like that

HI FRIEND!!!!!! thank you SO MUCH for sending this prompt in because i in fact couldn't help myself with protective/feral bucky who is heavily prevalent throughout the entire piece. protective bucky gives me OXYGEN and it seems to do a little something to kennedy, too. i definitely took an angstier route with this, but i had fun crafting this and molding some of the deeper discussions, so PLEASE ENJOY!!!!!! kennedy x bucky enjoyers -- please enjoy this treat!!! :D

you worrying about me?

(a/n): hi friends!! we have a kennedy-focused prompt with hints of kennedy x bucky and our good navigator friend, bessie carlisle :) we get into some darker themes here but nothing is talked about in detail. mostly just for in terms of writing the actual prompt. AND -- we have the symbolism of upside down roses here and i found out they can mean 'rebellion' and no doubt, they are referenced here. so please enjoy!! :D

"'Morning."

Kennedy looked up, her eyes flashing to the pair that was sitting down across from her, sleepy and half-awake.

Bucky Egan had never seemed like much of a morning person to her but it was her second morning here (to which she was waking at 0500 at this point from fear and nightmares) and he was yet again sitting across from her as the sun rose outside, the pinks, blues and oranges beginning to careen across the cold horizon and black silhouetted trees.

"Hey." Kennedy whispered, curling the blanket further around her body on the bench, "Sleep well?" Bucky settled and leaned up against the table, ruffling a hand up in his hair that was in 10 different directions from sleep, and he let out a sigh.

"Okay." he said with a nod, looking to her gaze and clenching his jaw, "Yourself?"

"Okay." she told him with a shrug and he quirked his head sideways at her and lifted the corner of his lip, "What's that look for?"

"Okay?"

"I mean, half of you snore and being alone in the middle of Germany for a week isn't exactly the most comforting thing to put you to sleep. So." Kennedy said quietly, "Okay. Not the best." Bucky watched her in the stillness of the dark morning and slowly nodded.

"What happened out there?" he asked her, voice low.

"Where?" She was almost defensive in her question, building up her walls, locking the doors, hiding away. She always did this. Her brain couldn't do. Get her thoughts out. In front of him.

"Germany. Few days ago." Bucky asked her, voice low, nodding at her, "Something happened."

"Nothing happened." Kennedy shot back, suddenly feeling guilty at the defensive stance she'd taken.

This was Bucky.

Bucky Egan.

He was just looking out for her safety.

All the guys were.

As the only one of the Silver Bullets girls to have shown out of the four that had bailed-out, they took on the protective forefront stance almost immediately.

"Sorry."

Bucky waved her off, clearly not perturbed by her small moment of bitterness.

"Can't blame you," he said, leaning forward again against the table and looking over at her with a small smile, "had a German breathing down my neck, pulling me outta some river. Walked through a town, attacked by civilians. Thrown on the back of a truck like dead meat." Bucky stared at her. "It's fucking sick." Kennedy watched him and clenched her jaw, a sudden yearn to hold him overtaking her.

"You got attacked?" she managed out, the thought of Bucky, a Major in the USAAF, being led by Germans through a town and freely attacked because he was now a prisoner. And they just let it happen; and he no doubt fought back helplessly. The thought tore at her heart a bit.

"With knives and pitchforks." he said with a grimace of a grin, "Real medieval, huh?"

"Were you okay?" she asked him, eyeing that bruise underneath his eye, that scar along his brow, that look in his eye, her cheeks flushing, "I mean, obviously, you're sitting here but…"

"You worrying about me, Farley?" he asked her quietly, but not in a really sarcastic or teasing way.

No. He was looking at her desperately; achingly. No, he was genuinely asking her, staring at her in such a purposeful way that she was sure if she hadn't just woken up she'd be much more aware of the way he was looking at her and what he was saying.

"Uh, yeah." she answered, staring at him, "I was your waist gunner. I'm not a stiff exactly. I have some level of emotional awareness about myself." The corner of Bucky's lip grew upward as he watched her. "What?"

"It's just me, Farley." he said quietly, regarding her with a look that seemed far from what it meant to just look at someone normally, "What happened out there?"

Kennedy watched him that morning in the darkness of the dawn, swallowing uncomfortably as her palms slick with sweat, her forehead dotted with perspiration suddenly. She looked to Bucky.

"Just….stuff I don't really want to think about, to be quite honest." she said quietly with a nod, before stiffening up, "Did they interrogate you, too?" Bucky seemed to grow still at her words, his eyes glazing over in a way that made her brain stutter and her mouth part the slightest bit. Evidently, they had.

"Yeah." Bucky said - quick and short, "They did." She grew quiet.

"What'd they ask you?" Bucky asked her next, seeming to fill in the question in her mind that she wanted to ask him. She pulled the blanket up more around her shoulders and sighed a bit, looking down at the table where her half-empty canteen was sat. She needed to do something with her hands, she couldn't just sit here and let what was going on in her mind takeover. She grabbed the canteen and took a shaky sip and looked towards Bucky again. He was looking at her suddenly more worried than he had been previously, his brow furrowed and narrowed all at once, leaning more across the table, watching her like she had just mentioned something that had upset her.

"Shit I didn't feel like talking about." Kennedy said quietly this time, "About Captain Faulkner. Lieutenant Bradshaw. Silver Bullets." Kennedy clenched her jaw, and felt the grip on the canteen tighten, hand growing numb as she reached up to swipe her ginger hair behind each of her eyes with her free hand. Bucky watched her with that persistent look.

"I didn't say a goddamn word though." Kennedy said, her voice dripping cold, "You should've seen the way they were looking at me. Like I was a fucking pile of clothes on the ground. It was pathetic." Bucky clenched his jaw, unflinchingly watching her gaze still.

"I told them I was a Lieutenant, you know?" Kennedy said quietly, "They never addressed me as such, just my name." Kennedy shivered. She remembered the aching of her body as she was led inside that room, sat in that chair, with two Germans on either side of her, gripping her biceps until her skin was screaming. The interrogator staring her down, watching her like she was nothing, tilting his head and smiling stiffly. 'Tell me about your time with the USAAF.' As if they thought she was letting them kill her here, like this was the end of the road for her. Were they sorely mistaken. 'Might I inquire about a certain Captain B. Faulkner - KIA? And a current Lieutenant A. Bradshaw? MIA?' Kennedy shut her eyes.

"Kennedy Farley. Lieutenant. O-499716." Kennedy said quietly, "Over and over." Kennedy's eyes looked to his.

"They knew where I was born, where I lived. My parents' names." Kennedy said, her voice shallow, as she stared at him, willing that in some way he would just shut her up so she could stop thinking about this.

"Kenny-"

"Boston, Massachusetts. Born to Belinda and Andrew Farley. Only daughter-"

"Kennedy." Kennedy snapped her mouth shut, her eyes meeting his again. Someone was shifting in their bunk, there was more orange infiltrating the sky behind Bucky's head outside of the windowpane and there was a distance ringing somewhere past the building.

"You hear that?" Bucky asked her. Kennedy slowly nodded, feeling catapulted back to when she had first entered the camp - stumbling in, limping, her bum leg somewhere behind her, as she frantically, in silent prayer, willed for someone from the 100th to step in front of her and tell her it was going to be okay. She remembered that ringing - almost like the bell in the B-17 to bail - she remembered the ringing of the entrance alarm that went off when new POWs were brought in. It rung around in her head like a free bird, instead trapped in a cage, with every touch a reminder of the sound of that bell.

"New POWs?" Kennedy said, her voice distant, "At 0530 in the morning?" Bucky stared at her.

"I'm going." she said, standing to her feet, pulling the blanket off, being careful to step past some of the creaky floorboards that littered the place (and no doubt by now, between the two of them, others would no doubt be waking up), but she tried her best to stay quiet.

"I'm coming with you." Bucky said and she heard him stand up from the table and come up behind her, "No way you're going alone." Kennedy looked over her shoulder in the threshold of the room and watched Bucky in the illuminated darkness and caught his gaze.

There was something about this morning that felt different about the Bucky Egan that was standing here now - with the way he was looking at her, the way he was standing so close to her side that she was sure if she tripped he'd be there to reach out and hold her up. If she reached out, she could nearly brush her finger across the palm of his hand. Kennedy blinked.

"Thanks." she said, a little breathless, then managed a small smile, "My knight in shining armor." Bucky grinned almost immediately at that, like a dog who had just been tossed a bone. He chuckled.

"Highest honors from Lieutenant Farley herself." he said, and her heart skipped a beat.

Even if it was just the littlest things - hearing Lieutenant Farley from his lips showed her one thing.

Even in her ramblings, he'd been listening.

And Bucky Egan hardly seemed to be a listener - he talked.

A lot.

But knowing he listened to what she had said?

Kennedy's heart pounded inside her chest as they stepped into the hallway, that ringing alarm still going outside, Bucky shutting the door behind them. They walked side by side, Bucky's presence something she would always feel comforted by. He was so…..large. In more ways than one. In height, his broad shoulders - God, what she'd give to hug him and bury her face away in his being.

Kennedy realized she was in fact standing there, thinking about his bare, broad shoulders was something she would've apologized to God about back home. But in a shit hole like this, small mercies were all they had. And the idea of Bucky was one of those.

Stepping outside, the alarm bell was much louder and so was the cold. It was in her ears on the wind, all over her face and nose, making her shiver just at the contact and for a moment, she considered turning around and going inside.

But then, her heart stepped in. Annie, Margie or Bessie could be coming in at this very moment, terrified out of their minds. And Kennedy had felt that. And she didn't one a single one of them to have to feel what she felt.

Kennedy wanted to be right there to pull them out of the turmoil and the fear and the salty sea. She wanted to tell them that for now, they'd be okay.

Her and Bucky began trekking across the open area of dusty land towards the gates, side by side, their arms brushing each other with intermingled bits of warmth gathering between them as they did so, hands shoved deep in pockets, chins tucked down in A2 jackets, hair waving in the wind, noses red and eyes watery.

It was quite a miserable sight, along with Bucky's slightly bruised eye and the cut on her cheek. In a way, she felt better knowing she was going forward right now with Bucky right there beside her though.

"Hey….Kenny." Bucky said quietly from beside her, causing her to look upwards and catch his eyes in the early dawn, the colors reflecting in his dark brown orbs, the darkness of the night behind him, the morning in his hair and on his chapped lips, "They didn't try anything did they?" She could've guessed that the question was coming - it was war time and she was both a woman and the enemy. Kennedy watched him right back.

"No." she said quickly, "I would've broken their fucking finger if they tried, you know that."

"Good." Bucky said quietly, his voice tight and firm all at once - he seemed evidently pissed off as well. Not at her, but at the current unfolding changes of the time. Which she didn't entirely blame him for.

They both grew quiet as they neared the gates in the early morning, a few bits of sun rays peaking over the edge of the treetops now, reflecting off windowpanes, MP40s in German hands and barbed wire.

Everything was dull and dreary as they watched the new group of POWs enter inside. Aimlessly looking around, staggering on two things they called legs, uniforms scruffy, dirtied and covered in a mix of blood and mud, scars and bruises littering the exposed bits of skin, and their eyes soulless - long gone to what their current state of life was.

"You think they made it?" Bucky asked from beside her as Kennedy watched a few guys struggle by, holding up someone between them, groaning and grunting with exhaustion to keep him leveled and awake.

"They had to." Kennedy said quietly, "And I know that Annie Bradshaw. She wouldn't go down without a fight." She didn't have to look over at Bucky to know he was grinning. She heard him give a chuckle before her eyes caught on something in the midst of the group, her entire body stiffening, all her senses quickly growing alert. She couldn't control it - not even at 0530 in the morning, not even when she felt like death herself, not even with the level of exhaustion, fear and depletion she felt.

"Bessie!" Kennedy was yelling, shoving past Bucky suddenly at the sight of Silver Bullets' navigator, her heart soring in a way she hadn't felt in over a week - the sight of one of her own, of someone she'd been through everything with. Someone who had always been there.

"Bessie Carlisle!" Kennedy came tearing around the edge of the second set of gates, standing at the edge, cupping her hands around her mouth, "Bessie!"

There in the midst of the group, staggering and alone, was Lieutenant Bessie Carlisle - a horrendous split lip, a black and blue eye, scraps on her cheeks, her body wilting away, her form hunched, arms crossed in front of her chest in an attempt to hold herself up and her body barely moving properly as it was, it seemed.

Her pants were covered in dried blood, her boots caked in mud and her top was torn in various areas exposing bloody welts and skin underneath and no doubt her freezing body.

Kennedy didn't care if the Germans would lose it, if she was going against it all - roses upside down were for the thrill of it all. She pushed forward through the mobs of POWs entering the camp, moving around people, avoiding the zombie-like bodies that shuffled by.

And finally when she was in Bessie's line of sight, she stopped and watched as Bessie met her gaze, frozen there in the midst of the group.

"Kenny?" Bessie managed to whisper out, her voice hoarse - it sounded like she'd been crying and screaming, "Kenny is that you?" Kennedy's eyes welled with fresh tears, as she felt her face scrunch uncontrollably like a small child again.

Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry.

Cry. Cry. Cry.

And Kennedy stepped forward, delicately pulling Bessie right into her arms. To be quite honest - they were both sobbing. Something about the fact that in all this world, the waist gunner and the navigator of Silver Bullets had found each other - because no doubt they had thought the others were dead. Long gone to the earth.

Holding Bessie there, who was always so strong, pleasant and happy to seeing her broken in Kennedy's arms made a swirl of anger, guilt and grief fill her insides and she couldn't do anything else but let the tears drip down her face as they held each other and cried.

"Move! Move! On!" a voice hollered from somewhere behind Bessie and suddenly, Kennedy felt herself falling backwards, the wind knocked out of her as she landed, back flat on the ground, Bessie curled on top of her and a German pilot officer standing over them, the muzzle of his MP40 hanging over them, his eyes dark, lifeless, his lips a thin frown, his cheeks entirely gaunt.

Kennedy watched in earnest as the German pilot officer nudged as Bessie's body - to which she flinched and it made Kennedy want to scream.

"Don't you fucking touch her!" Kennedy snapped, immediately regretting it when the German turned his eyes onto her, sneering down at her with a look that made her want to dig 6 feet under. Kennedy had to look away from him - this wasn't happening, this wasn't happening. Get Bessie up. Get her moving. MOVE.

"Okay, Bes, we're gonna slowly stand, okay?" Kennedy said, sitting herself up and helping Bessie get to her feet, keeping the German in her peripheral, "Just try to keep yourself steady."

"Move! On!" the German snapped at her, shoving the muzzle against her back as Kennedy wrapped an arm around Bessie's back. Kennedy glanced back over her shoulder at the German and watched his eyes - he'd pull the trigger whenever he pleased. No matter who it was - his eyes told her plenty.

"GO." the German said, knocking the muzzle roughly against her back again and this time, before she could even open her mouth, another voice beat her to it.

"If you even THINK about touching them, I'll kill you." Kennedy looked over to see Bucky standing there, his hand batting down the MP40, "We're fucking moving." And before the German could get a word out, before Kennedy could focus on what was going on, Bucky had gone and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, fingers brushing Bessie's frail, bony ones, and began leading them away through the crowd.

Anger. Fear. Pain. Grief. Horror.

The only words to describe the numbness that flooded Kennedy as she willingly dragged along Bessie beside the frantic Bucky who looked close to losing his mind any minute. He moved at a pace that she could barely hold, neither could the voiceless Bessie and as they got out of the crowd, Kennedy had to pull at the lose flap of his A2.

"Bucky, you gotta slow down." she said, causing him to stop and look at her, anger simmering at every bit of him, his fists clenched, his eyes staring her down like he was almost still looking at the German, "Bessie can't walk that fast. She can barely walk."

Bucky's eyes flicked to Bessie, who was still achingly quiet beside her and then back to Kennedy. He was inches from her face - she could see the sweat dripping down his lightly stubbled cheek. Up close, you could see the anger rolling off him; she could almost see past it all though, through his eyes and into his very being. Beyond anything, he was tired - tired of war, tired of this, all of this.

"I'll take her other side," Bucky said quietly, his eyes bouncing off her lips and to her eyes again this time before he stepped past her, "c'mere, Bes."

Kennedy watched as Bucky lowered himself a bit to wrap Bessie's arm around his shoulder and they began walking. It was a slow amble to the barracks, Bessie making pained noises like a wounded animal the whole time, enough to skyrocket Kennedy's worry to an all-time high.

And by the time they had shuffled her inside the bunk room, a few people were awake, the lantern lights on and were swarming them like flies. Buck was there, helping Bessie to a cot with a blanket, Benny tumbling out of bed to get some water going, Hambone sitting beside her, rubbing his hands up and down her sides, Brady on her other side, a hand on her back, moving up and down in a slow, comforting motion.

Kennedy stood there beside a wordless Bucky, watching Bessie get the help she needed. Slowly, she turned to look up at Bucky, suddenly wanting nothing more than to find comfort in a place as nice as his eyes. And to see him already watching her in that way he always did, made her suck in a breath that felt choked and tight.

She flinched when she felt his fingers make contact with her own, goosebumps spanning the width of her arm and across her upper body as warmth filled the pit in her stomach. His fingers danced across her exposed wrist, before sliding down into her own fingers, his palm pressing into hers, his large hand encapsulating her own. All while watching her - slow and deliberate and meaningful.

Kennedy released that shaky breath, staring back at Bucky who refused to look away. For all the horror, all he could do was stare at her. And hold her hand. And all she could do was stare right back.

But then Bucky quirked up the corner of his lips and a sense of calm washed over her gently. Like things were okay. Like this was okay.

"You looked like you needed a hand." Bucky whispered, briefly leaning towards her, "Literally." He squeezed her hand, brushing his thumb across her calloused skin. Kennedy watched him and let a small grin pop onto her face.

"You know me better than myself sometimes." she whispered back. Bucky continued watching her, smiling that smile, staring at her with those eyes. She swore she saw a hint of heat on his cheeks, but shook her head with a laugh. She was half-focused on his face and half-focused on the brushing of his thumb, slow and sensual on her skin of the top of her hand.

"Hey Kennedy? You got a minute?" Buck asked, popping his head back from the bunk, "She's got a nasty cut on her leg. Figured it's best if you help her there." Kennedy looked at Buck, immediately stepping forward and dropping Bucky's hand, that ball of warmth faded to ice as she nodded - Bessie needed her.

"Of course." Kennedy said, before glancing back at Bucky, who was watching her with that look again. Bucky nodded to her.

And so when she turned to crouch in front of Bessie, feeling his eyes on her was like the moon watching the sun.

[theemporium]

hi!! i wanted to request an imagine with all the marauders doing stupid shit to try and compete for the new american transfer’s attention, and she’s extremely bold, sarcastic, and unbothered (bc i’m so tired of seeing y/ns who act like they’ve never had a single social interaction before 😭) and they have a like a bet going on to see who can get a yes from her first, oblivious to the fact that she’s dragging it out to watch them embarrass themselves more LMAO thank you so much 🙌🙌

thank you for requesting!🖤

.

“You know they are doing all this to impress you, right?” 

You couldn’t help the way your lips twitched in amusement as you tore your eyes away from the sight in front of and instead turned to look at the redhead settled on the bench next to you. 

“Of course I do,” you answered with a playful scoff. “But who said I can’t have my own fun with it?” 

Lily snorted, a bashful but bold sound. “You’re driving them mad, babe.” 

“But it’s so funny to watch,” you said with a faux pout before you turned back to look at the boys. 

The second you walked through the doors of Hogwarts, the boys were absolutely besotted by you. Maybe it was the pretty smile or the gorgeous face or maybe it was the fact you had all but scoffed at some petty, pureblood wizards who tried introducing themselves to you and snorted when another tried to tell you off for breaking some silly little school rule within the first twenty-four hours since you stepped inside the castle. 

But from that second on, you had held the hearts of the school’s beloved marauders in your hand, for better or for worse. 

“What are they even trying to do this time?” Marlene asked as she approached the two of you, her hands braced on the bench as she tilted her head at the scene in front of her, trying to work out just what she was actually looking at. 

It wasn’t unusual for the boys to go out of their way to gain your attention, you had truly seen it all. From James whooshing past you on his broom after he scored in a quidditch match, calling out your name and honouring the goal to you, to Sirius dancing on the table top in the Great Hall to cheer you up as he serenade you with your favourite song, to Remus all but blurting out random little jokes during class to try and gain your attention. 

It was cute and it warmed your heart. Now, though, you were slightly worried their recent antic would end with the three boys in months’ worth of detention.

“I honestly don’t know,” you murmured honestly, your brows furrowed in confusion as you watched the boys zip about. 

“Are those…muggle fireworks?” Lily murmured with a frown. 

“Muggle fireworks? How different are they to ours?” you asked, briefly glancing at the redhead. 

“Very different,” she snorted, shaking her head. “I didn’t think any of them knew how to set them off. It’s not like ours, it’s not a simple spell.” 

You tilted your head. “Is that why Sirius has his lighter?” 

“Probably, but you still have to—“ 

BOOM!

All eyes turned to look at the massive chunk that was now gone from a row of pillars leading out into the courtyard. And just as quickly as people sought out the chaos, their heads twisted around to find the boys standing there, sheepish and flustered at the lacklustre performance they just put on for you. 

“POTTER! BLACK! LUPIN!” 

You snorted as their eyes widened at McGonagall's voice booming through the whispers and hushed voices, all three of them scrambling to fix their mess. For the infamous marauders, they got quite sloppy when they were around you. 

“Better run, boys!” you called out to them, a massive grin on your face. “Wouldn’t want my favourite boys in detention.” 

“Your favourite boys?” Sirius repeated, a grin growing on his face. 

“You heard what I said, Black,” you retorted, watching as the boy only shook his head in amusement. 

“We won’t get detention, darling,” Remus assured you, a flush to his cheeks that made him look a little younger than usual, a lot more carefree too. 

“Good, we have a date on Saturday,” you called out casually. 

All three boys halted in their steps but it was James who spoke. 

“Which one?” he asked, something like a glimmer of hope in his eyes. 

But your grin only widened. “Who said anything about only one of you?”

.

[arknights-imagines]

Tbh I was thinking of a scenario in my head about doktah (or U) being injured and Rico was taking care of U and U cupped his cheek and called him pretty, he was confused but flustered a bit (insert glitching computer sounds) anyway i luv u and anyone who’s reading this 😍

- 🐲 anon

Hiya there 🐲 anon! Tysm for your request (and I love you too sbsuwh 🥰!!)

I knew I wanted one of the first things I posted after being away for v long to be a request for Executor/'Rico, so your request was perfectly timed and I loved your idea lots aaa! It's v v cute and I feel it fits Executor/'Rico v well 🥺💕!!

I'm a li'l nervous since I feel I'm a bit rusty shiuhge 😭...! But, I had fun with this one and it feels good to be back aaa I hope I did Executor justice here 🙏

Anywho, to you and everyone else, I hope you all enjoy 🥰!!

Taglist for Executor/All Writing!:

@donsofwaste

@tiredstudents

@marahuyos

@vesvic

@cl3v-j

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Error

Imagine format; mostly in the perspective of the reader, written in second person!

Contains: Executor, gender-neutral Operator as the reader, acquaintances to crushes relationship lolojshd, mentions of things and references to lots of from Executor's archive files, minor injuries and violence, the reader is one of Rhodes Island's Elite Operators, the reader is a li'l bit of a flirt lololsjs, nameless and gender-neutral Doctor as a background character, humour, fluff 💕!

Word count: a little over 2.7k!

--------------------

All Rhodes Island Operators were allowed to work alongside and be dispatched on Operations with each other. Such was a simple fact, and an obvious one; of course it would be bizarre for Rhodes Island, with their policy of levelling all who they employ as equal and for not tolerating discrimination irrespective of one’s reasons, to restrict certain Operators from being assigned into Squads together.

The case of Executor, however, was unavoidably more complicated different.

While all Rhodes Island Operators were allowed to be sent into combat with Executor - that didn’t mean all Rhodes Island Operators were willing to be sent into combat with Executor.

When you had approached the Doctor regarding the subject before boarding the transport that was to take you to the site of your next Operation - you had been assigned to an Operation, along with a party of other Elite Operators that included the Sankta in question, that was a hostage-rescue in Columbia -, they looked off to where Executor was stood counting his ammunition nearby then shrugged.

You had tilted your head to the side and so the Doctor elaborated, “He’s more than capable of handling the perimeter of the Operation ite by himself, and besides, no one on the Squad was agreed to being deployed with him. It’s not unusual, considering his… reputation.” A lift of one of your eyebrows was paired with a puzzled mutter, “But, it’d still be better for him to have some sort of back up. And, what ‘reputation’? Do you mean how he has those people from the Engineering Department always flirting with him?”

It was the Doctor’s turn to tilt their head to the side now, before their voice left them slowly, “No, that’s not what I was-…” They paused, studying your facial features then shifting their gaze from you to Executor, “I was referring to other...things…”

Be it his direct completion of any combat task assigned to him, the immense amount of collateral damage left in nearly all of his mission sites, or that account from the deeply-fazed Operator who was deployed as his partner once, of how Executor barehandedly tore out the heart of a beast directly from its chest - that last one had soon become a Rhodes Island horror story, reimagining Executor as some form of a boogieman impersonating as a Sankta -, majority of Operators had an excuse as to why they would prefer not to be near the ever-composed Sankta during Operations.

The Doctor had long observed a pattern in your behaviour when near Executor, that was in stark contrast to everyone else; though his presence caused most to snap their back straight and tighten the line of their shoulders, your posture when with him instead was always eased with not even the slightest indicator of tension.

Perhaps then, there was one Operator willing to be sent into combat with Executor, the Doctor reassessed.

Such reassessment is the reason as to why you and Executor were in the position you both were currently - together on a short rooftop in order to provide ranged support as the rest of the Squad rescued the hostages and subdued the hostiles.

The choice to deploy you with Executor was surprisingly beneficial, as two pairs of eyes are better at one pair in regards to surveying for threats. Despite that the rest of the Squad had initially looked at the Doctor as though they’d grown a pair of Sarkaz ears and gained a Phidian tail all at once, they now concluded yours and Executor’s position together for this Operator as all part of the Doctor’s plan.

However, you would’ve argued that your eyes slowly becoming more occupied with staring at the Sankta in wordless awe - those rumours about how his appearance was candy for one’s eyes were in fact not simple rumours at all, you realized - rather than your eyes being focused on the Operation site below and the surrounding area, was not part of the Doctor’s plan.

You would’ve argued again that your distracted state caused by Executor’s close proximity resulting in you failing to notice the hostile crossbowman a few rooftops away with you as his target, until his bolt was already fired and struck into your shoulder, was not part of the Doctor’s plan.

“Ghk!” You gulped down the pained yelp as the arrowhead suddenly pierced into your body, and instead a strained grunt of effort covered over it as you lifted the weapon-bearing arm upward in a swift movement; snapping your eyes off of their spot previously super-glued onto Executor’s face, you narrow your gaze and fix it onto the now-fleeing crossbowman. Trusting your own aim as an Elite Operator, you raise your weapon without much ceremony and fire.

A relieved huff leaves your lungs after the crossbowman crumbles to the ground after your weapon-fire hits him in a direct headshot. That relief was momentary, however, as the sharpened ache throughout your entire arm quickly reminded you of the crossbow bolt in your shoulder.

Executor’s attention was rapt on your form once gravity yanked your body downward and sent your knees to collide harshly with the concrete below you; immediately, he was across the rooftop and wrapping a secure arm around your waist to assist you in sitting onto the ground with your back leaning against the ledge of the rooftop.

“You have been hit with an enemy projectile. Do not move.” His voice left him in a stable tone as expected, while his eyes scanned over your body in search of any further harm, then lingering your injury, before they settled onto your face. Your mouth opened to speak, only to shut when his gaze fixed to yours; a hue of scarlet rose onto your cheeks and your eyes averted from his own, despite that they’d been firmly locked onto him just moments earlier. The heaviness of your embarrassment - you’d just been hit by an enemy, because you were too busy oogling your Squadmate - began to near-smother the ache from your injury.

With confidence, you expected the Sankta to flatly point out your blunder in a tone lowered slightly in disappointment, as he advised you to not repeat the same mistake in the future or remarked that he should’ve declined the Doctor’s suggestion to have you function as his partner for this operation. None of those came, however.

In contrast - stark contrast - to the scenarios you’d imagined, Executor’s facial expression became one of slightly furrowed brows with faint downturn of his lips, and then his voice left him in careful words, “I apologize for my lack of attention to our surroundings. I failed to notice and warn you of the threat in time.” A thoughtful pause, and his eyes flicked to your injury before returning to yours, “I will ensure I do not repeat this mistake on subsequent occasions.”

You blinked, and for a moment you wanted to ask him to repeat what he said because you were certain you must’ve heard it wrong. Your injury had been your own mistake, not his; despite, you had rarely ever heard the Sankta’s voice laced with the sincerity it was as his words of apology left him.

Finally, your voice escaped the grip of your previous embarrassment and you managed a reply, “I-It’s alright. It’s my fault, Executor, I wasn’t paying attention. You don’t have to be concerned about it-” His head tilted to the side, then shook it in a near imperceptible movement, “Negative. The safety of my partner for this Operation is a logical cause for my concern.”

Everyone who knew him would firmly agree that he was not a man who ever said things simply out of courtesy. Therefore, the genuinity of this concern - his concern over you - was undoubtable. He felt wholly and truly responsible, for your injury and for ensuring your safety.

“E-Executor-” Your words vanished from you and your thoughts scattered once more as Executor returned his attention to your injury, “The projectile is not an Originium product, there is no risk of Oripathy Infection.” He angled his head to inspect the site of the injury further, then he continued, “Resulted injury is a puncture wound, estimated to be a few inches in depth. Non-lifethreatening.”

The blue of his irises lost a fraction of its sharpness when his eyes left the arrow bolt in your shoulder to find your own eyes once more, “On-field medical treatment is advised. Rest assured that I am qualified to administer.” If they weren't before already, your eyes were widened incredulously now, “You want to…patch me up?” Executor nodded, “If you will allow me, yes.” Your own nod came in a slow reply, “Yes, I'm okay with that…” His gaze focused onto your injury, “Very well.”

With that, his hands placed, one cupped your shoulder and the other held your arm steady. You half-expected a firm grip, one not aware or not caring of the force it was exerting.

Instead, Executor’s hands were careful, only applying necessary pressure; the warmth of his palms seeped through the thin fabric of his gloves and offered some soothe to the ache of your injury. Were these really the forceful hands that tore the heart out of a beast? The unexpected gentleness of his touch caused heat to rise to your cheeks and your heartbeat to quicken within your ribcage.

This certainly couldn't be the same Executor whom even your fellow Elite Operators were uncomfortable working with because of his callousness. After all, this Executor’s concern for you was evident; in the way he had instantly been at your side the moment he noticed you’d been attacked, in the way he apologized for what he believed to be his failure in protecting you, and in the way was now tending to your injury. ‘Callous’ was antonymous with ‘concern’, it was impossible for him to encapsulate both. You had yet to witness a display of his supposed lack-of-a-heart, and all but witnessed his evidence of one - a heart misread by many and miscommunicated to many, a heart abstruse.

Yes, anyone with eyes could state with confidence that Executor was handsome; it seemed, however, that you were the only who was now being settled upon with the realization that, ‘and he’s a gentleman’.

Your heart was rapid within your chest, your cheeks flushed a pink hue, - and your eyes could not remove themselves from Executor. Any attempt you made to avert your attention failed, as whenever you flicked your gaze away, it still inevitably fixed onto his careful hands, or his assured movements, or his focus-sharpened face. He unearthed a tourniquet from the black bag he had slung around his shoulder, briefly explained to you that he would apply it in order to halt blood flow and limit excessive bleeding.

He carefully set the arm of your injured shoulder to rest across your stomach, a more comfortable position and one that supports the vulnerable limb enough for the time being, “Please maintain this position, and refrain from moving or attempting to use your arm until we rejoin our Squad. A Medic Operator is required to properly attend to your injury.”, All you managed is a high-pitched sound, a “mhm” in reply.

You silently said thank you to the fact that applying the tourniquet on your arm required majority of his focus, else you were aware he would’ve noticed you staring yet again.

Your eyes studied each of his facial features, each line of his face. His eyes didn’t display enough emotion to discern, as they never did, however your closeness allowed you to notice how concentration sharpened them as he twisted the tourniquet and how the city lights illuminated the light blue hue of his irises; the ivory strands of his hair fell slightly into his gaze as he tilted his head down to properly view your injury, and your hand twitched to tuck the straying pieces away back into their place; his pale skin on his face was without blemishes, and you silently argued with yourself over if his cheeks would be cool or warm to the touch.

You didn’t have to continue mentally debating with yourself over it for very long, as your arm not effected by your injury suddenly lifted to allow your hand to cradle his cheek. Warm; the surface of his skin is warm, and under the contact of your palm, you notice his cheek becomes warmer.

Executor stiffened completely to the point of being statuesque, from his hands ceasing their task of securing your tourniquet to his lungs failing to expand with air for a moment; the only movement was of his hair falling to obscure his eyes. You initially mistook his flinch for discomfort, and you almost pulled your hand away in worry that he would push it away himself.

Again, however, Executor averted your expectations.

He tilts his head in a slow and small movement towards your touch, then he slowly allowed his gaze to drift to yours. No words produced from his throat until after a small while, when your code name was uttered from his lips and he continued in words of question, “...What do you require? Is your injury causing you excessive pain, or do you feel abnormal symptoms?” You didn’t provide an answer to his queries, unless what you blurted out next could be called a sufficient answer.

“Executor, you're pretty.”

He did not reply to you, initially. The Sankta remained unmoving, not even a twitch of his fingers or a blink of his eyes, for a long moment; when he finally did move, it was in a series of slow blinks. Then, his lungs suddenly pulled in a curt inhale of air and his eyes widened, albeit so little you would've missed had you not been leaned in closer to him.

“I…” He cleared his throat, “I am unsure what you mean.”

His reply was near priceless, as you didn't think such a straightforward statement would require elaboration; the only other thing you couldn't possibly put a fitting price on was the near-imperceptibly stunned expression that had quickly fallen onto his face.

Chiming with a light giggle, you pressed your hand closer to his cheek and reiterated in a tone firm with insistence, “As in, you're attractive. No wonder everyone in that Engineering Dormitory insists on asking you out non-stop.” Your addendum to your original statement did little to relieve Executor of his puzzled state, and did everything to exacerbate it. “Pardon. I am afraid I do not understand your wording.” His voice was loyal to that which was typical of him, as it did not falter and remained cool as usual; it was his facial features, that betrayed him.

The size of his pupils shrunk as his eyes widened a fraction more, his jaw tightened visibly as he attempted to catch his lips from falling agape, and his eyebrows lowered to knit slightly in a confused furrow. All are changes you had never witnessed on his facial features before, and each new one you noticed began to cause your lips to upturn into a delighted grin. Most especially - the pink hue that faintly dusted his cheeks.

“Oh!” Your exclamation was raised in astonishment; you'd never once seen Executor’s pale cheeks saturated with any colour at all, not on any occasion, not to any person, not in reaction to anything. And yet, they were now flushed a rosy tint. The injury on your shoulder was forgotten completely; elation lifted your heart towards the sky and mirth played across on your facial features.

With glimmering eyes and an exultant smile, your voice melted out of you in a coo lifted with tease, “Now you look really pretty, blushing like that.”

Executor’s cheeks deepened in colour, however after that, you received no further reactions. You wondered if his brain abruptly quit functioning when it received your words, unfamiliar words that it failed to process; his gaze didn’t leave your face for even a glance, his facial expression froze in wide eyes and flushed cheeks, and he halted all his movement, somehow even including the natural movements of his blackened halo and wings.

Much to your even further amusement, you were reminded of when the Rhodes Island computer terminals displayed the error with the blue screen that instructed to restart the device.