#the heavy sadness in my chest was too much to handle
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I donât know nor wanna know how this fits into the wedding AU but if you are one that loves your heart to be broken, stepped on and literally tear apart⊠this oneâs for you đ
#some writers are just pure bliss#I didnât finish reading it#it broke me#Lilith cried and I wept#everything in me was just sadnessâŠmy tears hurt and I just couldnât continue reading#thatâs how fkn good this piece was#one day Iâll finish it but not today#the heavy sadness in my chest was too much to handle#so fkn real#i canât believe myself#I put the dam phone down and spend the whole day thinking wtf sei#lol#warrior nun#warrior nun season 2#avatrice#sister beatrice#ava silva#this isnât a happy ending but I hope itâs not the ending to that wedding au#that shit would suck and Iâll never read another story like that ever again#gawd I need Jesus in my life#f this shit#fuck đđđđ#warrior nun spoilers#this canât be the end#!!!&@/&)389/!:!
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In need fathers day with baby daddy rafe, pretty pretty please princess đ
á â
á â àŽâ â zᶻ
you always felt nervous going to tannyhill. not that you felt unwelcome, everyone in his life made it clear that rafeâs baby was of utmost importance to them â so with that came the kind and supportive treatment toward you. however, you couldnât help but feel like a burden. if rafe wanted to be around you and his kid 24/7, he would do so â hell, heâd get back with you. due to feeling like this, your palms were all sweaty by the time youâd reached the front door, card tucked under you and baby carrier weighing down your arm.
he looks surprised to see you when he opens the door. still in his shirt and slacks, itâs clear to you that rafe had buried himself in work today. it only then occurs to you that fatherâs day might be difficult for him, giving his circumstances at all. you inwardly wince.
âuh, hey.â he eyes you, itching his cheek and peering into the baby carrier.
you clear your throat, bashfully holding out the card. he takes it in silence and you place the carrier down, picking up your sleepy baby and holding her to your chest. âhappy fatherâs day, daddy.â you smile, voice soft as to not disturb your child too much. he softens a little, blinking.
âthat today?â he breathes and you stiffen a little. surely he knew?
âuh, yeah. we got you a card, wanted to let you spend some time with her today if youâre not too busy.â
âif iâm not tooâ listen iâm never too busy to see my kid okay? or you. iâmâ iâm never too busy to⊠see my family⊠and stuff.â itâs awkward, the sentiment too soft for his liking and he looks down, staring at the sweet, milk-plumped angel in your arms. âlet meâŠâ he reaches out and takes her, her fat little fists immediately stretching for him and curling into the material of his shirt making your heart swell. he was always oddly a natural at this, handling her so well. it always filled you with a strange kind of sadness, one that regressed you slightly to something more scolded and childlike because your own father hadnât offered you that same generosity. yet, you were thrilled your baby would receive that love even if you werenât together with her father.
âcome in, please.â he stands aside, holding the door for you before picking up the carrier in his other handâ effortlessly walking it with the baby to the living room. âyou walked here?â he converses, setting the carrier down and placing the baby back inside, crouching down to stroke her tummy with the side of his finger.
âtook the bus. no way im walking with that heavy thing.â you chuckle quietly and he swivels his head to glance at you.
âshouldâve told me you were coming i would have got you. yâknow i really donât like you getting on the bus with her, itâs not safe alright, thereâs all kinds of lunatics out there.â
âwe survived.â you shrug, and thereâs a short silence before he stands up, reaching for the card and opening it up. you fiddle with the hem of your dress awkwardly. you never quite knew what to do around rafe these days.
you watch as he reads the contents. âto daddy, thanks for being the best and always looking after me. canât wait to be able to tell you myself how much i love you.â you sign it off as your daughter, but his eyes linger over it, your sweet handwriting scrawled around the brightly coloured paper â almost for a moment like you were saying it yourself.
âand before you ask, yes she said all of that herself.â you joke to ease the tension and he snaps out of it, looking up at you with a chuckle.
âour little wordsmith, huh?â he smirks, wandering over to the mantelpiece and displaying the card. it filled you with some kind of pride, though it wasnât about you. âlook uhâŠâ he strokes his jaw, glancing over at the baby. âlet me take you both out for dinner, yeah? my treat.â
âyour treat? rafe its fatherâs day, weâre supposed to be treating youââ
âi know, alright but⊠iâm supposed to be looking after you, right? looking⊠looking after you both.â he corrects himself, walking closer to you until he was basically looming over you, eyes wide. âandâ and i know this is a hard day for you too, alrightâ shit, itâs a hard day for me. gotta bond as a family at some point, you know that right?â
you nod, feeling a weight off your shoulders a little at the way the tension fizzles out.
âyou sure? i donât wanna take up your timeââ
your incessant apologising makes his eyes flutter in irritation and he takes your cheeks in his hands, forcing you to look at him as he ducks his neck down to be more at your level.
âyouâre not⊠yeah? youâre not. so quit.â
you blink all dumb, not realising how badly you missed his hands on you even if it was just as an innocent gesture and you nod, not trusting your voice. you try not to overthink the way he leaves his hands there for a moment as he glances over at your baby, thumb absentmindedly stroking your cheekbone for a second before pulling away and patting his pockets. âhas she slept?â
your brain malfunctions so it takes you a second, but soon you choke out a âyâyeah. had her afternoon nap sheâs just still waking up.â
âgood. i know somewhere quiet, got a host there who owes me a favour.â he strides to the carrier and lifts it before turning back towards you, blinking at you obviously. âwell are you coming orâ or what?â
âyeah. yes. iâm coming.â
á â
á â àŽâ â zᶻ
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before you go
san x reader (afab) / genre: smut, pwp, established relationship / warnings: unprotected sex, cursing, hair pulling, oral (m receiving), spanking, slightly possessive san but its for the fun of it, jealous san, creampie, pet names (baby), wc: 1.1k / r: 21+
unedited but delicious, also done for the jealousteez collab club project @pirateeznet â have fun hornies!
âWhy do you have to go so early?âÂ
Sanâs pouty voice resonated from the living room all the way to the bathroom, where you were finishing with your makeup, ready for tonightÂŽs concert.Â
âWe talked about this Sanie, you canât convince me to stay, you know how much I spent on the tickets?!â
He was about to reply with another plea, but he shut completely when he saw you got out of your bedroom, doing a spin and showing your finished concert assemble. San stood up, looking at you with wide eyes in admiration. âWhat do you think?â you said, spinning again, making your pleated skirt dance against your thighs, making the chains around your waist dingle.Â
âFuck! You look so hot, no! you canât go like this, babyâ he got closer, grabbing your waist and admiring your form. His eyes turned sparkly and his pout became almost cartoonish. âYou've been talking too much about that Jake guy, and now heâs going to look at you like this, bounce like this, for himâŠâ he added, sounding rather sad.
âDonât be silly San, he wonât even notice me!â
âHe would be an idiot if he doesnâtâ He said, pulling you back against his chest.
You giggled, finding him amusing but knowing he is actually being serious. Truth was San couldn't handle you going to concerts, even less, guy concerts where a dude you wonât shut up about would be performing.Â
âThatâs sweet Sanie, but I doubt it,â you said, kissing him and throwing your arms around his neck. âLetâs make a deal, go home and after the concert, Iâll crash a your apartment and make it up for you, I promiseâ
San looked at the ceiling, considering your offer, but after a moment of deliberation, he thought of something. âI would be less mad about those guys seeing you dance in this outfit, If I get to fill you up good before you go, thatâs my condition.âÂ
âHuh?!â you knew he was joking, he wouldnÂŽt put conditions on you for going out or not, but this was cruel from him. He knew how fucking hot he was when he talked tried dirty talk on you, and what it provoked.
âChoi San, you wouldnâtâ you glared at him.
âI wonât ruin your pretty outfit, I promise.â
Moments later, you were on your knees, soft pillow under them not to hurt you or ruin your fishnet tights. You look up to San, your eyes search for him and he looks down with drowsy eyes. âYou look so pretty, baby,â he groans, and curses when you increase your pace, dick hot and heavy in your mouth. You gag and his teeth press onto his bottom lip, if you didnât knew him better, you would say, in agony,Â
He grabs his base and urges you to go one more time with all you got. The sounds you make as you suck him up are driving him insane and you can feel it on how his dick throbs against your throat. He is so loud you swear all your neighbors know what you are doing, but you donât care.Â
âFuuuuuuck,â he groans, hearing you gag on him, âShhh, baby, look at meâ San lifts your head gently and your lashes flutter, âFuck, are you crying?â He gasps but you donât stop, taking him all in until he hits the back of your throat again.Â
âYou want me to load onto you in all places huh?â You nod and he curses again, âCrying because you want my cum on you so bad? thought you were in a hurry to leave, babyâ You shake your head slightly and he giggles unable to resist how your lips and tongue work on him.Â
Just as you are about to need to grasp some air, San thrust three times into you rather harshly. San sees that you need air and pulls out, âI love fucking your mouth, but I donât want to ruin the makeup you spend so much working onâ He then takes your arm and pull you up, immediately turning you over and bending you over the arm of the sofa, lifting your skirt, realizing is not tights what you are wearing, but stockings.Â
âAre you fucking kidding me?,â He grunts and presses against you, dragging his cock against your folds, hearing you whine and whimper, until heâs satisfied. âWhere are your shorts?â
âSanie, I haven't finished dressing up!â you cry.Â
âSure thing,â He chuckles darkly, pushing himself into you with ease, âSuch. A. Slutâ he said, pushing into you harshly with every word. You moan, feeling how San turns your face towards him and kisses you sloppily. Itâs so messy and the angle is awkward but the both of you need to be connected in every way.Â
when San breaks the kiss, and grabs you by the hair, itâs harsh but at the same time he doesnât want to mess up your recently done hair, and despite spit dripping out your mouth thanks to the kiss and San slamming into you like a fucking starved man, you feel so enamoured by him that you start to tear up again.Â
One hand on your hair and the other on your stomach, keeping you close to him as he slams in and out, while sucking on your neck, making sure to leave some kind of mark for you to display later tonight. âBaby, you like that you're gonna be jumping and dancing with my cum inside you all night, right?,â you nod frantically, and San feels like exploding at any second. âWant to be sure you donât forget about me baby, gonna fill you up so goodâÂ
You moan and he takes the chance to leave your hair and stick two fingers into your mouth. Wasting no time you start sucking them, at the same pace of Sanâs thrusts inside you. San hits your sweet spot and you sob into his fingers, accidentally taking them out.
âSan please, please!âÂ
âWhat baby, you wanna come already?âÂ
âPlease baby, I want to comeâ
San increases his pace and it's becoming rather sloppy, so you know heâs close too. âFuck then come with me, letâs come together babâ yyy!â San lets out a whiny moan that you sure resonated in the entire building. He pressed himself against you and you rode your release at the same time that you felt Sanâs hot cum filling you up. âJust like that,â he breathes out, moving a little to see if his cum is leaking out of you as he wished. âMine, mine only.â He says, spanking you loudly.
You moan and San chuckles, helping you stand up. He smiles, kissing your temple before he goes to pick up some tissues to help you clean up before you need to change stockings.Â
âNow go for those shorts, or else Iâll fuck you again until the concert is over.âÂ
âSanie!âÂ
He huffs, dimples showing as he smiles again, and then he squints. âI mean it.âÂ
@mingsolo please do not re-upload/translate to other sites
#san smut#kvanity#pirateeznet#san x reader#ateez x reader#ateez smut#san fanfic#atz smut#oneshot#atz san#smut#fic tag#pwp
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â ËïœĄ âàš The Ghost of You à§â ËïœĄ â
"This thou perceiv'st, which makes thy love more strong // To love that well which thou must leave ere long." -William Shakespeare (Sonnet 73)
PART V: âCAUSE I CANâT TAKE THIS PAIN FOREVER
zombie apocalypse sevika x reader au!: sevika was the super soldier; a killing machine driven solely by survival. you were nomadic, constantly searching for something in whatever was left of the worldâtill you met her.
series masterpost: part I // part II // part III // part IV
wc: 8.3k cw: smut (MINORS DNI!!!) author's note: thank you to everyone who read/comments + i see your tags on the reposts you guys make me gay and sappy with all your support tysm đ (also im so sorry if the smut is so mid Iâm not a smut writer and itâs my second time writing smut ever smhhh)
Fifteen died. Including Grayson.Â
Daylight is spent in a daze of cleaning up, tending to the wounded, and trying to process the magnitude of what's happened. People are trying to piece together what little they can salvage, but the damage is more than just physical.
As night falls, the community gathers for a final farewell. The loss is too great, too much to be exposed under the harsh light of day. The night offers a semblance of protection, a cloak under which everyone can mourn and where grief can be private.
Candles flicker in the hands of those gathered and the atmosphere is thick with sorrow. Families huddle together, some on their knees beside makeshift crosses, others standing in silent clusters. The candles illuminate their tears, turning them into tiny rivers of gold that glisten in the darkness.
You stand by Graysonâs cross, surrounded by those who knew and loved her. Vander, his broad shoulders tense and Ekko clutches his candle so tightly that the wax has begun to drip onto his fingers. Powder leans into Vi, who wraps a protective arm around her sister. Caitlyn stands close, her face a mask of composed grief, but her eyes are red-rimmed and distant. Ren holds onto your hand tightly, her small fingers interlaced with yours.
Your gaze keeps drifting to the shadows, searching for one face in particular. Â
Then, as if conjured by your thoughts, you spot her. Sheâs standing under a tree, half-hidden in the shadows. The candlelight doesnât reach her, leaving her face partially obscured, but you can tell itâs her. She's motionless, almost statuesque, her expression unreadable.
Thereâs something in the way sheâs watching the scene before her that sends a shiver down your spine. Itâs almost as if sheâs already a ghost herself, a spirit haunting the edge of the gathering. Thereâs an emptiness to her, as if the life has been drained out of her and what remains is only a shell, a figure standing over a world she no longer belongs to.
A heaviness resides in your chest, a deep, aching sadness that mirrors the grief of those around you. Graysonâs loss is a wound that cuts deep. She was the heart of this community, the one who held everyone together. And now sheâs gone, leaving behind a legacy that feels too big, too important to carry on without her.
The vigil continues, but you feel a shift in the air, a quiet, unspoken understanding that itâs time to go, that thereâs nothing more to be done here tonight. Slowly, people begin to leave, one by one, their footsteps soft on the grass. You hesitate, your gaze lingering on Sevika one last time. She hasnât moved, hasnât acknowledged your presence or anyone elseâs. Â
As your family and Ren head to a neighborâs house, seeking comfort in numbers, you seek solace in solitude instead.Â
The silence is almost deafening in your room. You close the door behind you, leaning against it for a moment as you let out a shaky breath.Â
Thereâs a soft knock at the door, and for a moment, you think you might be imagining it. But then it comes again, and you push yourself away from the door, your heart pounding in your chest as you reach for the handle.
When you open the door, Sevika is standing there, but sheâs not the woman you remember. Thereâs a hollow look in her eyes, a deep exhaustion etched into every line of her face. Sheâs hunched over slightly as if the weight of everything has finally broken through her defenses.
For a moment, you just stare at each other, neither of you knowing what to say.Â
"What's going on?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.
Without a word, she steps into the room, her movements slow and almost hesitant.
"Sevika..." you start, but the words die in your throat as she looks at you. Her eyes, usually so guarded, are now pools of raw emotion.
"I could have lost you yesterday," she says, her voice cracking. "I almost did."
You step back and fall onto the edge of your bed, overwhelmed by the intensity of her gaze, the weight of her words. Â
Sevika falls to her knees before you, burying her face in your lap. Her body shakes, hands clutching desperately at your clothes. The sight of her kneeling before you sends a shockwave through your system. This is Sevika, the woman whoâs always stood tall, whoâs never shown weakness.Â
âPleaseâŠâ The word escapes her lips in a raw, broken whisper, her voice laced with a desperation youâve never heard from her before. âPlease⊠I canât take this pain forever.â
Your hands hover uncertainly over her. Sheâs seeking you, but you find yourself instinctively pushing back, your fingers gripping her shoulders to keep some distance between you. The urge to comfort her wars with the part of you thatâs terrifiedâterrified that if you let her in again, sheâll leave, and youâll be left with nothing but this overwhelming pain. Â
Why now? your eyes ask, the ache in your chest tightening. Why now, when I donât even know if I can trust you not to leave again?
Sevika looks up, her eyes red-rimmed and filled with vulnerability. She reaches for you, but you flinch away, your body betraying your inner turmoil. I wonât, her eyes seem to respond. her hands clinging to you as if youâre the only thing keeping her from falling apart completely.
The push and pull become physical - Sevika's hands grasping at your clothes, trying to draw you in, while you resist, your grip on her arms keeping her at bay. You see the realization dawn in Sevika's eyes as she understands your hesitation. She doesn't speak, doesn't try to persuade you with words. Instead, she simply holds your gaze, her hands loosening their grip but not letting go entirely.
The tension between you is palpable, a living thing that fills the space between your bodies. You can feel it gnawing at you - the fear that sheâll pull away, that this moment will shatter like glass.Â
Slowly, almost imperceptibly, Sevika's resistance fades. She doesn't try to pull you closer anymore, but she doesn't move away either. She simply kneels there, her head bowed, waiting.
It's this surrender that finally breaks through your defenses. Your hands, which were pushing her away, now tremble as they cup her face. You tilt her chin up, meeting her gaze fully for the first time.
What you see there takes your breath away - itâs a steadfast devotion that silences your doubts. At that moment, you understand that she's not going anywhere.
Your hands finally move, your fingers threading through her hair and letting it fall from its ponytail. The moment you touch her, she lets out a shuddering breath, her body sagging against you as if the weight sheâs been carrying has finally become too much.
Sevika sees the hesitation in your gaze, the lingering fear, and something shifts inside her. She surges up, pulling you into a desperate kissâa plea for you to trust her. The kiss is messy, frantic, filled with the need to feel, to connect, to hold onto something real amidst all this.
You respond immediately, your hands drawing her nearâeven though parts of you want to stop and shield yourself from the possibility of losing her again, you canât bring yourself to let go.
Her lips are pressing against yours with a need that makes your heart ache, and you both finally give in to the emotions youâve been holding back for so long. Itâs not like the kiss youâve shared beforeâthis is different. Itâs a commitment to each other that youâve both been too scared to acknowledge until now.
You both fall back onto the bed, your bodies tangling together as you lose yourselves in each other.Â
Your hands are never leaving her, your lips never straying too far from hers. Her bionic hand presses into your back gently, pulling you closer until thereâs no space left between you and you can feel the steady beat of her heart against your chest.
She suddenly pulls you onto her lap. One hand slides under your shirt, causing a shiver to run down your spine, while the other lingers on the small of your back. With a swift movement, she removes your shirt, leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable under the moonlight cascading through the window.
A blush creeps up your cheeks at the sudden exposure.Â
"You're beautiful." The moonlight dances in her eyes and her voice is filled with sincerity and adoration.Â
Your breath hitches as she leans in and presses a kiss onto your chest, her lips travel lower and lower until she forces a nipple out of your bra. Your gasp quickly turns into a moan as her lips wrap around it and her tongue is swirling, her teeth teasing and biting at the sensitive bud. Â
Your hands find their way into her hair and shoulders, grasping at something to stabilize a desire that feels like it could push you over the edge. As her lips dance across your neck, her tongue tracing the curve of your jaw, you feel your hips surge forward, seeking the friction that will bring you relief. Your hands, still fisted in her clothes, tug her closer, the fabric straining against the pressure. Sevika's fingers, still tangled in your hair, pull your head back further, exposing your throat to her hungry mouth. Her breath is hot against your skin, sending shivers coursing through your veins. You grind into her fingers, a low, desperate moan builds in your throat, and you hear yourself repeating her name like a mantra.
"Sevika, Sevika, Sevika please."
Your legs tremble as you press into her, the thin fabric of your panties rubbing against her fingers, which are still wrapped around you. The pressure builds, a crescendo of need threatening to consume you whole.Â
She teases you, her fingers occasionally dipping inside you before pulling back out to rub against your sensitive nub. Each time youâre on the brink of release, she stops and kisses you deeply, driving you crazy with need.
But finally, when you canât take it any longer, she plunges two fingers inside you. Your fingers dig deep into her shoulder as she sets a steady pace with her fingers, hitting just the right spot inside you that has you writhing in ecstasy.
Youâre panting at her touch, your hips bucking into her hand as she moves her fingers in and out of you, her thumb rubbing circles over your clit. Each touch sends jolts of pleasure through your body, making you crave more and more. She whispers sweet words in your ear along with wicked promises that make you wetter than you could imagine.
You grasp the edge of Sevika's shawl, the delicate fabric slipping through your fingers as you slowly pull it away, exposing her bionic arm to you. The shimmering metal catches the dim light of the room, contrasting beautifully with your warm hands. You canât help but admire the way it seems to glow, each curve and joint blending seamlessly into her skin.Â
Sevikaâs breath hitches at the sight of her exposed arm, and a flicker of vulnerability passes over her face. The vulnerability in her eyes makes you want to show her how incredible she is, and how every part of her makes you feel alive. Â
You lean closer, your lips brushing softly against her bionic arm, feeling the coolness against your mouth as you press gentle kisses along the sleek surface. Itâs smooth, almost soothing, and you feel her relax into your touch. Your breath quickens, merging anticipation and a hunger to worship every part of her.Â
She changes your positions, laying you down gently on your bed till your head sinks into a plush pillow. You can feel the heat radiating off of her body as she begins to kiss down your body. Her lips leave a trail of fire as they make their way down your stomach until they reach the waistband of your panties. She easily removes them and throws them aside. She starts by lightly kissing and licking your inner thighs, slowly making her way towards your center. You can already feel the heat pooling between your legs as she gets closer and closer to where you want her most. Her gaze locks onto yours as her head hovers over your soaked folds.
âJust focus on me,â her voice comes out hoarse and commanding.
Sevika buries her face between your legs and you gasp at the sudden sensation, gripping the sheets tightly. She flicks and sucks on your clit while slipping a finger inside of you, matching the rhythm of her tongue. Thereâs a sense of urgency in the way she looks at you â a primal need that mirrors yours perfectly.Â
Her fingers dig into your thighs, holding you down firmly. You feel yourself getting close, but before you can reach your peak, she stops abruptly.
You whimper in frustration, but itâs quickly replaced with adoration as she climbs up to kiss you, tasting yourself on her lips. Â
âYou got such a pretty body,â She bites teasingly at your ear. âPrettier when itâs a mess for me.âÂ
A course of desire jolts through you at hearing her low and raspy voice whisper those words. Your fingers trace the curve of her shoulder, moving down her arm until you reach her hand. You intertwine your fingers with hers, feeling the coolness of her bionic hand. Sevika blows a hot breath over your glistening mound and you instinctively close your legs around her head.Â
The room immediately fills with the sound of heavy breathing and the soft, wet noises of skin against skin. Her finger curls inside you, causing your back to arch off the bed in pleasure.Â
With each thrust and lap of her tongue, she pushes you closer to the edge. You can feel the tension coiling within youâshe intensifies her rhythm, sucking and teasing in perfect harmony with your body's responses. The sensations build higher and higher until they finally explode within you.
You release with a loud cry, shuddering in ecstasy as the waves of pleasure wash over you, leaving you breathless and utterly consumed in bliss.
When you finally break apart, itâs only to catch your breath. Your bodies are still tangled together, a sticky, wet mess, but neither of you cares. Sevika holds you tightly, her face buried in the crook of your neck.
The room is bathed in soft, silvery moonlight filtering in through the window. The sounds of your soft breathing fill the space, mingling with the faint rustle of the sheets. Everything feels tender, and fragile, like youâre both holding on to something delicate and precious, something that could shatter with the slightest misstep.
Your fingers trace the scar on Sevikaâs cheek, the roughened skin contrasting the softness of her lips. She looks at you, her eyes searching yours as if sheâs trying to read the thoughts that youâre too scared to say aloud.
âI donât want to lose you,â you murmur, your voice trembling with emotion.
âYou wonât,â she whispers back, her lips brushing against yours in the softest of kisses.Â
âPromise me..â Your voice falters, struggling to grasp the idea of not being able to feel her, see her, or touch her like this again. âI donât know how to exist without you.â
âIâd spend the rest of my days searching,â Sevika replies quietly, her gaze unwavering. âEven just for the chance of seeing you again.âÂ
She cups your face with one hand, her thumb brushing gently over your cheek. âIâll always find my way back to you.â
You rest your head on her chest, listening to the steady rhythm of her heart, the sound soothing in a way you hadnât realized you needed. Your fingers trace gentle patterns on her skin and a quiet peace settles over you, a sense of calm that you havenât felt in what seems like forever.
As you lie there, holding each other in the darkness, the world outside seems to fade into insignificance. You close your eyes, letting yourself finally rest, knowing that sheâs here with you, that youâre both in this together. Itâs a fragile peace, but itâs yours, and in this moment, itâs more than enough.
âșËâïœĄÂ°â©
One Year LaterâŠ
The kitchen glows in the warm light, sunlight streaming through the window and illuminating the marble countertops. The sweet aroma of cinnamon and vanilla fills the air as you stir a pot of rice pudding on the stove.
Ren bursts into the kitchen, twirling in her new outfit - a pretty blue dress with matching ribbons in her hair. "Look!" she exclaims, eyes shining with excitement.
You smile warmly. "You look beautiful, honey. Are you ready for dinner at Vander's?"
Ren nods enthusiastically. "Can I go over early? Please?"
"Of course," you reply, giving her a quick hug. "I'll see you there in a bit."
You watch her go, a fond smile lingering on your lips. Ren has become such a central part of your life, switching between living with you and Sevika, and some nights, staying over at Vanderâs with the rest of your family. Dinners at Vanderâs have also become a tradition, starting as a semblance of normality for the kids until you realize that sometimes everyone just needed a family meal too.
You turn back to your work, carefully measuring out the sugar to add to the pudding. Youâre so focused on getting everything just right that you donât notice when Sevika slips into the kitchen. She moves quietly, her steps almost soundless as she approaches the stove. Itâs only when you glance up and see her broad back that you realize sheâs there, her figure blocking the light from the window.
"Hey, you're home," you start to say, but then you spot the spoon in her mouth. "Sev!" you exclaim. "I'm not done with that!"
Sevika turns, the spoon still between her lips. "Tastes good," she mumbles around it, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
âItâs supposed to taste good when itâs finished,â you retort, gently pushing her away from the stove.Â
Suddenly, you feel Sevika's arms encircle your waist, her body warm against your back. She nuzzles into your neck, placing a soft kiss just below your ear. "Mmm," she hums, "doesnât taste as good as you, though."
âDonât think you can sweet-talk me into letting you try more,â you say, trying to stay focused despite the distraction sheâs providing.
She chuckles again, her deep voice rumbling against your back. âCanât blame a girl for trying.â
You smile, the familiar banter easing you into a comfortable lull. The gentle pressure of her arms around you, the way sheâs so casually affectionate now, fills you with warmth.Â
"Hey, did you bring home any fruit for the pudding?" you ask, turning in Sevika's arms.
You feel her tense slightly, her smile faltering. "Weâre having a bit of a dry season," she says, her tone careful.
The words hang heavy in the air. You know the reality - supplies have been tight lately, with produce struggling to grow and the scavenging teams venturing further each time.
Before you can dwell on it further, Sevika leans in to kiss you, clearly trying to change the subject. But as she does, you catch a whiff of something less than pleasant, and you instinctively pull back, wrinkling your nose.
"Babe, you fucking stink," you blurt out.
Sevika's eyes goes wide in shock, then narrows playfully. "Oh, really?" she growls, trying to pull you closer.
You dance out of her grasp.âGo start a bath,â you say between giggles. âIâll join you in a bit, okay?â
She lets out a noise of disapproval but obeys regardless. âI wasnât that bad,â she mutters as she turns toward the bathroom.
âYes, you were,â you call after her, still grinning as you watch her go. âGo on, Iâll be there soon.â
With Sevika finally convinced, you head to your bedroom to grab some towels.
The bedroom has changed over the past year, becoming more of a shared space than it ever was before. Sevika's red shawl drapes over the back of a chair, while your jewelry glitters on the dresser. The wall above the bed is adorned with colorful drawings - Ren's artwork, depicting your entire makeshift family, the sight of it never failing to warm your heart.
It had started casually enough - a few items of clothing left behind after hurried encounters, a toothbrush appearing in the bathroom. You and Sevika were sneaking around, stealing moments together whenever you could.
When you finally told your family about your relationship, they celebrated, of course.  It wasnât a surprise to themâthey had seen the way you and Sevika gravitated toward each other, the looks you reserved solely for one another. You found yourself practically living at Sevika's, though neither of you had officially acknowledged the change.
Then came the day you noticed the difference in her dresser. The already sparse drawers had been reorganized, creating a dedicated space just for you. Your scattered belongings were neatly arranged, claiming their place in Sevika's life.
You remember standing there, staring at that drawer, your heart swelling with emotion. It was such a small gesture, but it spoke volumes. Sevika, always more comfortable with actions than words, had found her way of saying "stay".
A small smile forms on your lips at the memory as you close the closet. Gathering the towels, you head towards the sound of running water.
You settle onto the stool beside the bathtub, watching Sevika relax in the warm, soapy water. Her broad shoulders peek out from the bubbles, her head tilted back slightly as she rests, eyes half-closed in contentment. The sight of herâthis tough, unbreakable womanâ soaking in the bath like she has nowhere else to be, makes you giggle.
"You look adorable."
Sevika cracks one eye open, giving you a playful glare thatâs nowhere near as intimidating as she probably hopes itâll be. "Iâm not adorable," she grumbles.
You reach for a washcloth, gently running it over her back. Your fingers work out the knots in her muscles, and you feel her relax under your touch. The bathroom is quiet except for the soft lapping of water and Sevika's contented sighs.
"Don't get me wet, Sev," you warn as she shifts in the tub.
âI thought I always did,â she shoots back with a sly grin, and before you can react, she splashes a handful of water at you.
The warm water hits you square in the chest, soaking your shirt. You let out a small gasp, and Sevika just laughs, clearly pleased with herself. Â
âNow Iâve got no choice but to join you, huh?â you say, feigning annoyance as you peel off your damp clothes.
Sevika's arms wrap around you as you settle between her legs, your back pressed against her chest. "No funny business," you remind her. "We've got dinner later."
She groans, burying her face in your neck. "Do we have to do that?"
You intertwine your fingers with hers, squeezing gently. "Yes, we all need it. Even you, Miss Grumpy."
Sevika huffs, but doesn't argue further. It's rare to see her act so petulant, and you can't help but find it endearing. You lean back further into her embrace, savoring the warmth of her skin against yours.
A chuckle escapes you as a memory surfaces.
"What's so funny?" Sevika murmurs against your ear.
"I'm thinking about us," you reply, still grinning. "Remember the first time you came to family dinner?"
Sevika groans again, this time in embarrassment. That first dinner had been spectacularly awkward. Sevika, sitting at Vanderâs table, towering over everyone, her presence so imposing that no one knew how to break the ice. You could feel the discomfort radiating from the others as they tried and failed to strike up conversation. Sevika, never much of a talker herself, hadnât made it any easier.Â
"I thought Caitlyn was going to have an aneurysm trying to make conversation," you laugh.
"She kept asking about the weather," Sevika recalls. "As if we don't all live in the same damn place."
âBut my family loves you now.â
Sevika raises an eyebrow. âTheyâre still nervous around me though.â
âTrue,â you admit, chuckling. âBut now they know youâre not going to kill them if they say the wrong thing. Well, most of them know that, anyway.â
âI like to keep them on their toes.â Sevika smirks, her lips brushing against your neck. âCanât let them forget who I am.â
You turn in her arms, facing her now. "I donât think they would be as afraid if they saw you in a bubble bath right now."
She narrows her eyes at you. "Iâm still scary."
"Is that so?" you challenge, your faces inches apart.Â
Instead of answering, Sevika closes the distance between you, capturing your lips in a kiss. You sigh into it, brushing a damp strand of hair behind her ear.
You're nestled against Sevika, the warm water lulling you into a peaceful state when a sharp knock shatters the moment.Â
"Who the hell..." She's about to call out, likely with some choice words, when a familiar voice filters through the door.
"Sevika? You in there?"
It's Ran. Sevika's expression immediately hardens.Â
She gives you an apologetic look as she carefully extracts herself from the tub, wrapping a towel around her body. You remain in the bath, straining to hear the muffled conversation. Snippets reach your earsâ"Silco... needs to see you... scouts..."Â
By the time you've dried off and dressed, Sevika is already changed, her face grim. She's heading for the door, and you follow.
Out on the streets, the usual bustle of Zaun seems subdued. Sevika turns to you, her eyes softening slightly.
"It's just a quick meeting," she assures you, though her tone lacks conviction. "I'll be back, okay?"
You look at her, worry evident in your gaze. She must see it because she adds, "Family dinner is still on. I promise."
You watch Sevika disappear down the street, her words echoing in your mind. Despite her assurances, you can't shake the feeling of unease that settles in your chest. Instead of heading home, your feet carry you to a familiar path.
The old target practice area comes into view, untouched since Grayson's passing. The targets are weathered now, the paint faded and peeling. You moved the practice area after... after everything, but this place still holds a piece of history you canât forget.
You settle onto the worn bench, you could almost hear Grayson's patient voice, the sound of gunfire. Now it's quiet, a ghost of what it used to be.
Lost in thought, you barely notice the approaching footsteps until a shadow falls across you.
"Quite the view from up here, isn't it?"
A manâs voice cuts through your reverie. You look up to see him, his usual sly smile in place.Â
"Mind if I join you?"Â He doesn't wait for an answer before settling onto the bench beside you.
âWhat do you want, Finn?â you ask, your guard instantly up.
âJust wanted a place to admire Zaun,â he replies. "Itâs getting a bit crowded down there.â
You remain silent, wary of engaging. Instead, youâre both gazing out over ZaunâThe community sprawls below, a patchwork of light and shadow.
"You know," Finn begins, his voice casual, "I used to come up here sometimes, watch Grayson train the new recruits. She had a way about her, didn't she? A real vision for what Zaun could be."
You nod, unsure where he's going with this.
Finn continues, his tone thoughtful. "Things have changed a lot since then. More people, less space. Resources getting tighter." He glances at you sideways. "Makes you wonder what Grayson would think of it all."
There's something in his voice that puts you on edge, a subtle challenge. You choose your words carefully. "Grayson always believed in Zaun's potential."
"Ah, but potential for what?" Finn leans in conspiratorially. "It looks like things are starting to fray at the edges. People are getting restless, hungry. And when that happens⊠well, who knows what might come next?"Â
You feel a surge of anger, but you keep it in check, refusing to let him get under your skin. âZaunâs strong,â you say firmly. âSo if youâre trying to stir up trouble, you can take it somewhere else.â
Finn holds up his hands in a placating gesture. "Of course, of course. I'm just thinking about the future, you know? But hey, I'm sure Silco's got it all figured out."
Finn stands, brushing off his pants. "Give my regards to Sevika," he says lightly.Â
"Tell her... we're all counting on her to keep us safe."
âșËâïœĄÂ°â©
You and Sevika walk side by side through the bustling streets of Zaun, the rice pudding cradled carefully in Sevikaâs arms. As you approach the door, you can already hear the sounds of laughter and chatter from inside. Before you can even step over the threshold, a blur of blue barrels into view.Â
Just as Powder rounds the corner, she nearly collides with you, her eyes wide as she skids to a halt. âOops, sorry!â she exclaims, a sheepish grin spreading across her face as she steadies herself. âSorry, double for last time,â she adds with a knowing look.
It had been a few weeks ago, when Sevika was trying to grow out her hair, a fact she was oddly self-conscious about. You guys were standing in the courtyard, watching as Powder excitedly showed off her new contraption, a slime trap shooter she cobbled together from spare parts.Â
The demonstration started off well enough, but suddenly a glob of viscous slime shot out wildly, landing with a wet splat right in Sevika's hair.
Powder's enthusiasm instantly turned into fear as she realized what she's done.The look on Sevikaâs face had been pricelessâa mix of surprise and horror as she reached up to touch the mess clinging to her hair.
âIâm gonna kill that kid,â Sevika grumbled, her voice low and menacing. âMy hair looks like shit.â
Youâd barely managed to suppress your laughter when it first happened, but now in Vanderâs bathroom you couldnât hide your amusement.Â
âSo, thatâs a no on having kids, then?â you joked as you reached for a pair of scissors to help trim the slime-covered strands.
Sevika had turned to look at you, her expression one of shock and something elseâsomething deeper that neither of you had wanted to confront. It was just a small joke, but it carried the weight of a conversation you hadnât yet had, and might never have. Sometimes, you couldnât avoid the fact that this was it for you two.
But you quickly brushed it aside, focusing on the task at hand. As you carefully trimmed the damaged hair, you leaned in close, whispering in Sevikaâs ear, âYouâre sexy already. No amount of slime will change that.â Â
That had earned you a reluctant smile from her in that moment.
"No harm done.â You tell Powder, inconspicuously kicking Sevikaâs feet to agree.
âYeah.â She grunts, and you hold in a snicker at the obvious grudge she held.Â
As you enter the kitchen, you're greeted by the sight of Vander attempting to wrangle a massive pot of stew. Â
âThere you two are,â Vander says, looking up from his cooking. âThought you mightâve gotten lost on the way here.â
âNot a chance,â Sevika replies, setting the rice pudding down on the counter with a grin. âThis one would never forgive me if I missed dinner.â
âDamn right,â you reply. âYou need any help, Vander?â
âNah, weâre about done here,â Vander says, wiping his hands on a towel. âJust need to get everything into the living room. You know how these animals are when theyâre hungry.â
You laugh, grabbing a tray of bread rolls while Sevika grabs a platter of roasted vegetables. She follows you out into the living room, where the rest of the group is already making themselves comfortable. Ekko is lounging on the floor, watching Powder and Ren as they buzz around him. Caitlyn and Vi are chatting quietly in one corner, Viâs arm casually draped over the back of Caitlynâs chair.
âHey you two,â you greet, setting the tray down on a table near the center of the room. âFoodâs here.â
Vi reaches for a roll, and Caitlyn swats her hand. "Wait for everyone, you brute," she says affectionately.
"Come on, cupcake, I'm starving!" Vi whines dramatically.
Soon, everyone settles in various spots around the room, grabbing plates and piling on food. Vander passes around mugs of ale, the rich, amber liquid sloshing slightly as he hands it to the adults.Â
Sevika sits down beside you on the floor, her back against the couch, and you hand her a plate, watching as she loads it up with a bit of everything. Powder's regaling everyone with a tale of her latest explosive experiment, complete with dramatic reenactments.
"You guys won't believe what I made today!" She exclaims, barely touching her food as she launches into her story. "So I took some wires from that old TV we found, and I connected them to a car battery. Then I rigged up this pressure plate..."
"And then - BOOM!" she exclaims, throwing her arms wide and nearly knocking over Ekko's plate.
"Watch it, Pow," Ekko grumbles, but there's no real annoyance in his voice.
The two of you eat in comfortable silence for a while, the sounds of laughter and conversation filling the room around you. As the meal winds down, Powder's eyes light up with a new idea. She bounds over to you and Sevika.
"Hey, hey! You guys wanna play Nerf guns with us?" she asks, her eyes wide and pleading.
Sevika raises an eyebrow.Â
"I modified them. They shoot further now, and I added a cool light-up feature, and-"
"Modified?" Sevika interrupts, looking slightly alarmed, she was already thinking about the last mishap with Powderâs âmodificationsâ.
You laugh at the expression on Sevika's face, she couldnât hide the suspicion and concern written all over it. "Come on, Sev," you nudge. "Could be fun."
Powder's practically bouncing now. "Please? Pretty please? I promise thereâs no slime this time!"
Sevika sighs. "Fine." she concedes.
"Yes!" Powder cheers. "You won't regret it!"
Powder herds you, Sevika, Ekko, and Ren onto the couch, squishing you all together as she stands before you, eyes gleaming with excitement.
âAlright, listen up!â Powder announces, pulling out a set of nerf guns. The colorful plastic weapons are covered in stickers and doodles, clearly customized to her liking. She hands one to each of you.
Sevika takes hers with a skeptical look, turning it over in her hands. âYou canât shoot shit with this,â she mutters, the derision clear in her voice.
âOh, yeah?â Powder smirks, clearly prepared for this. She whirls around, aims at a water bottle perched on the windowsill, and fires. The nerf dart flies across the room and smacks the bottle dead center, sending it tumbling to the floor with a satisfying thud.
Sevika raises an eyebrow, impressed despite herself.Â
âNow that weâve established these arenât toys for babies,â Powder continues, pacing in front of the couch. âhereâs the game: upstairs, thereâs a crown stashed somewhere by Vi. The goal is to retrieve the crown and bring it to Vander downstairs. Upstairs is a no-shoot zone, but downstairs, if youâre hit with a dart, youâre out.â
She claps her hands together, clearly relishing her role as the game master. "Now, we need to split into teams," Powder continues. "Sevika and Ekko, you're one team. And-"
You all glance at Ren, the youngest of the group at just eight years old. There's a moment of awkward silence as everyone tries to figure out how to handle this diplomatically.
"You should take her," you say sweetly.Â
Sevikaâs eyes narrow playfully, already sensing where this is going. âThe kid likes you more."Â Despite being dubious of the game at first, you could tell Sevikaâs competitiveness was taking over.
âI thought this was just a kidsâ game?â you tease, leaning in slightly with a raised eyebrow.
Sevika gives you a sheepish look, clearly caught between her competitive streak and her soft spot for Ren.Â
Feeling a bit guilty, you suggest, "Why don't we let Ren pick?"
Ren beams up at both of you, clearly delighted to have the choice. "I wanna be on your team!" she exclaims, pointing at you and Powder.
âYouâre gonna be our secret weapon,â you whisper, wrapping an arm around Renâs shoulders.
âAlright then,â Ekko chimes in, finally managing to free himself from the couch. âLetâs do this.â
Everyone grabs their nerf guns and heads outside. You can't help but chuckle at the sight of Sevika, usually so intimidating, clutching a bright orange plastic gun with a determined look on her face.
"Alright, teams start at opposite ends of the house," Powder instructs. "When I give the signal, the hunt begins!"
You crouch behind a bush with Powder and Ren, all of you trying (and failing) to look serious with your toy weapons.
"Ready?" Powder calls out. "Set... GO!"
And with that, you all come barreling into the house. Powder darts ahead, her movements quick and erratic. You follow, trying to keep an eye on Ren while scanning for potential ambush spots.
As you round a corner, you come face to face with Sevika. For a moment, you both freeze, nerf guns pointed at each other.Â
"Sorry, babe," you say, not sorry at all as you pull the trigger.
But Sevika's reflexes are faster. She ducks, the foam dart whizzing over her head, and returns fire. You barely dodge, and you take the moment to sneak onto the stairs.
Upstairs, you quickly begin your search, darting in and out of rooms, peeking under beds and behind curtains for any sign of the hidden crown. Renâs small size gives her an advantage as she slips into tight spots that you and Powder canât quite reach.
But despite your efforts, it was nowhere to be found. "How?" you mutter, bewildered.
Powder's eyes narrow, scanning the area. "Ekko," she hisses, pointing to an open window. "He must've climbed up from outside!"
Quickly, you formulate a plan. Ren is dispatched to keep watch with Vander, ensuring Ekko can't make a sneaky victory while you and Powder hunt down Sevika and Ekko.
With that, you guys head back downstairs, moving quietly as you scan the house for any signs of the other team. As you move through the house, you and Powder eventually decide to split up, hoping to cover more ground.Â
It doesnât take long before you spot Sevika, her broad frame moving stealthily through the hallway. She hasnât seen you yet, and you quickly close the distance, pressing yourself against the wall to remain hidden. When she finally turns the corner, youâre right there, catching her off guard.
âDrop the gun,â you command, your voice low and teasing as you pin her against the wall, your body pressing into hers. Sevikaâs eyes widen in surprise, her hands instinctively going up in mock surrender, though thereâs a glint of amusement in her gaze.
âAnd what if I donât?â she murmurs, her lips quirking into a playful smile.
âThen Iâll have to make you,â you reply, your tone equally flirtatious as you lean in closer, the game momentarily forgotten.
"Ewww, get a room!" Ekko's voice breaks the spell. You spin around to find Ekko aiming at you, the crown tucked under his arm.Â
But before you can react, Powder emerges from a doorway behind Ekko, her nerf gun raised and ready. Without missing a beat, she fires a dart that hits Ekko square in the back. âGotcha!â she shouts triumphantly.
Ekkoâs eyes widen in shock as he instinctively drops the crown, clutching his back where the dart hit. âHey, what the fuck, Powder?!â he exclaims, his tone incredulous.
âLanguage, Ekko!â Vanderâs voice booms from the kitchen, echoing through the house.
Taking advantage of the distraction, Sevika quickly knocks the nerf gun out of your hand. But before she can fully capitalize on her victory, you kick the crown down the hallway, sending it skittering toward the kitchen.
âMove kid!â Sevika barks as she grabs Ekko by the arm, dragging him behind a couch. Ekko, still nursing his mock wound, yells out dramatically, âMan down! Man down!â
There's a moment of tense silence, then Ekko's voice pipes up again. "I'm getting healed by a health kit!"
âWhat the hell?â Powder says with a look of utter disbelief. âThereâs no health kit in this game!â
"Yeah, 'cause I took it!" Ekko retorts, popping up from behind the couch and unleashing a barrage of foam darts.
The living room erupts into chaos. You dive behind an armchair, Powder taking cover behind another couch. Foam darts fly in every direction, peppering the air with colorful streaks.
You peek out, catching Sevika's eye across the room. She winks at you before ducking to avoid a well-aimed shot from Powder.Â
"Cover me!" you shout to Powder, making a dash for the hallway where the crown disappeared.
Ekko leaps over the couch, trying to intercept you. "Oh no, you don't!" he yells, unleashing a volley of darts in your direction.
You slide across the hardwood floor, narrowly avoiding his attack. Sevika provides covering fire for Ekko, keeping Powder pinned down.
As you scramble to your feet at the kitchen entrance, ready to grab the crown and make a triumphant dash to Vander, you freeze. The crown is gone.
A throat clears behind you. You turn to see Vander, sitting calmly at the kitchen table. Beside him stands Ren, a victorious grin on her face and the crown placed neatly on Vander's head.
The chaos in the living room dies down as everyone realizes what's happened. Ren's giggles fill the sudden silence.
"I believe," Vander says, his eyes twinkling with amusement, "that we have a winner."
For a moment, you're all too stunned to speak. Then Powder bursts out laughing, followed quickly by Ekko. Soon, you're all in stitches, the absurdity of the situation hitting you all at once.
As you catch your breath, you feel Sevika's arm wrap around your waist. "Canât believe we were outsmarted by an eight-year-old," she murmurs in your ear.
You lean into her, watching as Vander lifts Ren onto his shoulders, parading her around the kitchen as the victor. Ekko and Powder are already arguing about a rematch and new teammates for next time.
As the excitement of the game winds down, Vander glances at the clock. "It's getting late."Â
You nod in agreement, glancing over at Ren. âDo you want to stay at Powderâs or with us tonight?âÂ
Ren's eyes light up. "Stay with Powder!" she exclaims without hesitation.
Before you can even respond, Powder and Ekko are already shepherding Ren up the stairs, their voices a jumble of excited plans for a sleepover.
Caitlyn and Vi exchange a knowing look. "Ooh, you two are finally getting some alone time," Vi teases with a wink.
You feel your cheeks flush with embarrassment, but Sevika seems unfazed.Â
"So, how are those new recruits doing on the walls? Getting the hang of things?"Â You ask, trying to get the attention off you.
Caitlyn's face does a complicated dance between diplomacy and honesty. "Well, they're... enthusiastic."Â
Vi snorts, unable to contain herself. "Come on, cupcake. Tell 'em the truth."
Caitlyn's facade cracks. "Alright, fine. Their aim is absolutely atrocious. I've never seen so many missed targets in my life. We had one recruit who managed to shoot his own hat off."
You all burst out laughing, the mental image too ridiculous to resist.
Vander shakes his head. "Everyday Iâm thankful thatâs not me, I'm getting too old for that kind of headache."
Sevika raises an eyebrow at him. "Not too old to keep experimenting with your homebrews though, are you?"
You all laugh at that. It's true - besides overseeing the community's agriculture, Vander's taken to crafting various meads and ales in his spare time.
"I'll have you know that my brewing skills only improve with age, unlike my patience," Vander puffs up his chest in mock indignation. âAnd I'm taking back the ale from tonight, can't have you lot disparaging my other talents.â
Vi grins. "C'mon, Vander. You know the community needs that alcohol. How else are we supposed to cope with Powder's 'experiments'?"
This sets off another round of laughter, but your conversation is suddenly interrupted when Ren comes downstairs, looking shy and hesitant.Â
"What's wrong, sweetie?"Â
Sevika seems to understand before you do, her voice softening as she reaches out to Ren. âCome on, kid. Letâs get you tucked in.â
The three of you make your way upstairs, the house now quiet as the night settles in. Ren leads you to the bedroom sheâs sharing with Powder and Ekko.Â
Sevika moves to the bed, pulling back the covers and helping Ren climb in. Ren looks up at you both, her eyes wide and a little sad, as Sevika tucks the blankets around her snugly. âCan you get it?â Ren asks quietly.
You follow her gaze to the small play tent in the corner of the room, where she likes to spend her time during the day. You walk over, crouching down to peer inside, and thatâs when you see itâpeeking out from under a pile of toys. Your breath hitches as you recognize it instantly: Graysonâs yellow armband.
You carefully pull it out, the fabric worn but still vibrant, and bring it over to Ren. She takes it from you, her small hands wrapping around the band as if itâs the most precious thing in the world. âI miss her,â she whispers.
Your heart breaks at the sight of her holding onto that small piece of Grayson. You kneel beside the bed, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. âI know, honey,â you say softly. âWe all miss her. But sheâs always with us, in here.â You gently place a hand over Renâs heart, offering her a comforting smile.
Ren nods and she clutches the armband tightly, her grip strong for someone so small. Sevikaâs expression is unreadable, a mix of emotions flashing across her face as she watches the scene unfold.Â
After a few moments, Renâs eyelids start to droop, exhaustion finally taking over. You lean down, pressing a gentle kiss to Renâs forehead. âGoodnight sweetie,â you whisper.
You and Sevika quietly bid Ekko and Powder goodnight as well, sharing a few last words before heading back downstairs. The house is much quieter now, the energy from earlier having dissipated into a peaceful calm. You say your goodbyes to Vander, Caitlyn, and Vi, thanking them for the evening.
As you step out into the cool night air, the streets of Zaun are mostly quiet. Sevikaâs hand finds yours, her grip warm and comforting. âYou okay?â she asks.
You nod, though your mind is still on Ren and the armband. âYeah,â you say softly, squeezing her hand. âItâs just⊠itâs hard sometimes, you know? Seeing how much she misses Grayson.â
Sevika doesnât respond right away, but you feel her thumb brushing gently over your knuckles, a silent gesture of understanding. âSheâs a tough kid,â she finally says. âSheâs more resilient than we think.â
You wordlessly agree, falling into a comfortable silence as you guys listen to the hum of the surrounding houses and your footsteps on the pavement. For a while, neither of you speak, simply enjoying the quiet together.
You find yourself stealing glances at Sevika, admiring her profile in the dim light. She catches you looking and raises an eyebrow, a small smirk playing at the corner of her lips. You playfully bump your shoulder against hers, and she returns the gesture, a bit harder.
You smile, a soft chuckle escaping your lips as you bump her again, just to see what sheâll do.
Sevika doesnât say anything, but you can see the corner of her mouth twitching upward, that almost-smile that she gets when sheâs trying to keep her cool but failing just a bit. She bumps you back, a little more firmly this time, and you laugh, the sound light and carefree in the stillness of the night.
You nudge her again, and this time, she stops walking altogether. Before you can react, she grabs your hand, pulling you toward her with a gentle but firm tug. The sudden movement catches you off guard, and you stumble slightly, your hands instinctively reaching out to steady yourself.
But Sevikaâs already there, her strong arms wrapping around you, holding you close. Thereâs a brief moment where you just look at each other, the playful teasing of earlier fading into something softer, more intimate. The distance between you disappears, and you feel the warmth of her body against yours, the steady rise and fall of her chest as she breathes.
She doesnât say anythingâdoesnât need to. The look in her eyes, the way sheâs holding you, it says it all.Â
Without a word, she leans down, her lips brushing against yours in a kiss. Itâs sweet and gentle, and it fills you with a warmth that spreads through your chest, making you feel like you could stay here forever, wrapped up in this simple, perfect moment.
You melt into the kiss, your hand sliding from her shoulder to the nape of her neck.Â
When she finally pulls back, itâs only by a fraction, her forehead resting against yours as she breathes out a soft sigh. You can't resist leaning in to place another quick kiss on her lips, delighting in the way it makes her smile. Â
"What was that for?" you ask softly, not that you're complaining.
"Do I need a reason?" she asks, her voice husky but tender.
You shake your head, smiling. "Definitely not. Feel free to do that anytime."
She chuckles softly, pulling you close as you resume your walk home. Her arm wraps securely around your waist, and you lean into her, feeling safe and cherished.
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make it taste like love
Loki x Reader
Summary:Â You felt him before you even met him. And despite the pain he carried around, his soul was one of the most beautiful you'd ever seen.
A/N:Â A spur-of-the-moment idea that I simply couldn't ignore. I really hope you guys enjoy it, and yes I'm working on part two of my series with Loki as well. <3
Word count:Â 6k
Masterlist
The battle had left its mark on everyone, both physically and mentally. All the lives that were lost wouldn't be brought back. But everyone took solace in the fact that Thanos and his army were no longer a threat. And now, it was a time for rebuilding.
Wakanda's grassland was a battlefield. Bodies of both friend and foe lay scattered on the ground. The mourning loomed heavy in the air, you could feel it weighing down on your chest, your throat, and lungs. It was suffocating, prickling into your skin like needles. Yet you still walked, your boots crushing the grass underneath while you avoided stepping on stretched arms and legs, you needed to make sure no one else remained left behind.
A few feet away, the mad titan who once threatened the entire universe lay lifeless on the ground, his head disconnected from his body. For him, you felt no pity.
King T'Challa was both happy and sad to see you and the others leave. Happy, because it meant the end of a war; sad, because of having to say farewell to dear friends. But you, Steve, Natasha, and Banner were needed back in town, back at the Avengers compound; to welcome Tony back on earth, and because Thanos' attack had reverberated in many other places. It seemed like the Avengers were back in the game.
âââ ·â· âââ
This morning was a gloomy one. Grey skies peeked behind your curtains in the early hours of the day, maybe it would rain soon. It's been two weeks since the battle, and you were glad to see that most people were recovering; each in their own way, but recovering nonetheless.
You were already up when the clock hit 7:30 AM, holding a warm cup of coffee between your hands, and staring out into the compound's driveway and past the treeline through the big windows of the kitchen. Today would be the day that Thor came back, he'd been helping with the settling of his people in New Asgard until now, but you've heard about him not wanting to be king anymore. You were happy for him, you never did think that a ruler's life suited him anywayâand you missed your friend.
"He gets one chance, Rogers. One chance and that's it." Tony's voice suddenly caught your attention as he stepped into the kitchen, you turned your back to the window so you could watch as your resident Iron Man poured himself a cup of coffee without looking at his mug. Steve was right beside him, his hands on his hips as he sighed quietly, already all too used to Tony's moods.
"Yes, one chance, he proved himself enough by helping us fight against Thanos, I suppose we owe him the benefit of the doubt," Steve agreed, still holding his voice calm.
With a smirk on your lips, you approached your teammates. "What's going on, guys?" You leaned on the kitchen island, taking a sip of your coffee.
Tony ran his tongue over his bottom lip, his expression less than pleased as he took a sip of his own coffee before saying; "point break is bringing his beloved brother to our home." He shrugged, and said in a quieter tone, "Says he changed or something."
"Loki will be staying with us?" You raised an eyebrow. The attack on New York happened before you joined the team, but you were familiar enough with it to be wary of Thor's brother, even if Thor did speak more nicely of him recently. Still, you had never actually met Loki to form your own opinion.
"That's⊠to be decided," Tony grumbled, shooting a glance toward Steve. "But yes, pretty much. And, by the way, Strange wasn't happy about having reindeer games back in the city either."
"Wow, you guys finally agree on something," you snickered.
Tony mouthed a 'don't' to you, before Steve said; "Strange knows we'll handle it if anything happens, but Thor vouches for him, soâŠ"
You gave Steve a soft smile, and as much as you understood Tony's wariness, you agreed with the Captain. Loki didn't have the best of pasts with the City, but his help in the recent battle was one of many game-changers. He deserved a second chance.
Strangely enough, you found yourself excited to meet the God of Mischief. It was in your nature to analyze people, watch them from afar, and learn about the things they'd rather not say out loud. And someone like Loki, who had both once tried to take over your planet and now helped in saving it, was bound to raise some curiosity.
No more than an hour passed before you heard Thor's strong voice all the way from the living room. A small smile instantly came to your lips as you discarded your book, got up from the couch, and put on your slippers, rushing to the main doors to greet him.
Before you could turn the last corner, however, you came to an abrupt halt. Your breath got caught up in your throat and you had to lean back on the wall for support. Clutching the fabric of your shirt right above your heart, you were glad that this particular hallway was currently empty.
You could hear Thor's voice just around the corner, Tony was there too, but their words were faint and far away. Your vision was suddenly a little blurry, and underneath your palm you could feel your heart beating frantically.
See, this was nothing that hadn't happened before, after all, you are an empath. But a feeling this heavy rarely comes unannounced, unwanted. It briefly reminded you of when you first discovered your power, when you had no control and could pick up on pain, anger, joy, and pleasure that were not your own even if you didn't want to. Yet now, after years of living with it, you had learned to dose your perception of the feelings around you; now, when you weren't willingly focusing, other people's emotions felt more like a gentle whisper, a gush of chilly wind on your skinâsomething you were able to ignore if you wanted to.
But this overwhelming sadness; this emptiness, and loss, and pain; it came to you with such force that you were not able to block out. Seconds felt like hours, until the surprise of the new feeling passed and you took back control. Whispers of it remained, lurking in your stomach and in the back of your throat, but with a bit of extra focus, you were able to handle it.
And once your mind was finally clear again, it hit you. Who did you catch these feelings from?
You took a step around the corner cautiously, hands buried in your pockets as your eyes roamed your surroundings. There was no one around besides Tony, Thor, and Loki.
You knew it right away. You were familiar with the emotions radiating from Tony and Thor; but him, the raven-haired trickster, he was new, and if you didn't feel empathy for him before, you did now.
Loki held himself immaculately, a straight posture and a serene expression on his face. You had no idea how he did it, how he was able to hold all of those feelings in and still look so well put together; because one glance into his soul and you already felt like crying.
There was a light drizzle falling outside, maybe that's why Loki's black blazer seemed to be shining under the bright lights of the entrance hall. His eyesâbright and ocean-greenâwere settled on you; the realization got you feeling hyperaware of each movement you made. Even his gaze was heavy.
Thor's booming voice calling your name captured your attention then, he had a big smile on his face and before you knew it he already had your feet off the floor as he held you in a hug.
You laughed against his shoulder, hugging him back just as tight and telling him all about how much you missed him. Still, when you let go, your eyes found Loki's again, he hadn't stopped looking at you once.
âââ ·â· âââ
The opinions about Loki's presence in the compound were mixed, but most of your teammates seemed fine with it; truth be told, no one paid much attention to him. As you'd expected, Loki's room was on your floor, because that's where Thor stayed too; as well as Tony, Natasha, and Yelena.
It's been a few days since his arrival, yet you haven't had the opportunity to properly speak with him, alone. But you've been feeling him a lot. Whether it was you subconsciously focusing on him more, or something else, it seemed like your body was more in tune and connected with his than you've ever been with anyone else. You picked up on a few of his emotions even if you weren't actively trying to; you felt his bouts of uneasiness when someone would stare at him for too long, you felt his gentle serenity whenever he'd sit near the windows to read a book, you felt his sparks of joy when people greeted him with a good morning or asked if he'd want coffee; but most of all, you still felt that lingering sadness that followed him everywhere he went, a weight he seemed to be all too used to having around.
In some ways, you felt as if you were invading his privacy, and that bothered you. During the day you tried to keep your mind as busy as you could to keep yourself from feeling him; in the late hours of the night though, when you were trying to sleep, there wasn't much you could do.
You have been tossing and turning in bed for probably about two hours now, drifting in and out of sleep. The crescent moon just outside your window seemed to be taunting you, amused with your misfortune. You scoffed as you glared at the natural satelliteâgreat, now you were arguing with the cosmos.
Loki was having a nightmare. You could tell by the rapid beating of his heart and the cold sweat running down his foreheadâyour abilities went way beyond simply feeling other people's emotions, but sometimes you wished they wouldn't. It's not the first time that you've felt Loki's restless sleep in the short time he's been here. Your heart ached for him; it got you wanting to alleviate his pain.
But you couldn't do that, so you got up from your bed, put on your fluffy slippers, and made a beeline for the kitchen. The air outside was chilly, biting at your warm skin and making you shiver. At this hour of the night, the compound was completely dark and quiet, a big contrast to how it was when the sun was up. You asked Friday to turn on one of the lights in the kitchen, giving the space a dim-lit look as the single light bled into the adjacent living room.
You rubbed the sleep from your eyes, humming the lyrics of the song stuck in your head as you reached for the upper cabinet to grab a mug so you could make yourself some tea. When you turned around again though, a gasp escaped your mouth and you nearly dropped the mug you were holding. You cursed quietly under your breath, placing a hand over your heart; if you weren't fully awake before, you sure were now. "You scared me," you muttered, trying a small smile.
The reason for your lack of sleep stood before you, with dark green slippers that matched his button-up pajama shirt, and his hair the messier you've ever seen it be. "Sorry, it was not my intention," Loki smirked back at you.
It hit you that this was finally the first time you were alone with him, and you'd been caught off guard. You tapped your mug, opening your lips but no words came out. Loki's eyes remained on you, unwavering, yet his gaze was so⊠soft, gentle even; his eyebrows weren't creased and he patiently waited for you with his hands in the pockets of his checkered pajama pants. He didn't look like the god you usually saw roaming the halls during the day.
"It's alright. I was just making tea," you said finally, gesturing to your mug, "would you like me to make one for you too?"
Loki's surprise at your offer was so great that you felt it in your bones. What was he expecting you to do?
His lips parted only slightly and he straightened his posture before saying; "I would- yes, I would like that."
You couldn't help the full smile that came to your lips and crinkled the side of your eyes, "great, sit down, it'll be ready in just a moment."
The warm mug between your hands warmed up your skin. It felt nice, sitting like this with Loki; in a quiet kitchen with only you and him, and just the lonely light to your left softly highlighting his features in front of you. It was a peaceful silence, and you couldn't help but check if he felt it too.
The rhythm of his heart was calm, his soul felt light and at ease; not completely, but the most you've ever felt from him.
"Why are you here?" His sultry voice snapped you back to reality.
"Uh- I'm sorry?" You frowned.
"Why are you here, if I may ask?" Loki tilted his head amusedly, his fingers tracing the brim of his mug. "Thor mentioned you had⊠abilities, but he never specified what they are."
Now it was your turn to be surprised by his curiosity for you. "Well, to put it simply, I'm an empath," you told him.
Loki blinked, once, twice, at your response. He looked at you for a moment before inquiring further; "and to put it completely?"
You smirked then, folding your arms over the table. "I can feel people's emotions, if I want to; their anger, happiness, hesitation, fear. But I can also feel their heartbeats, the blood cursing through their bodies. I can tell when they're lying or telling the truth, if they're tired or hurt. And sometimes, I can influence those emotions," you paused, hesitating for a beat, "bring fear, or⊠take away pain."
Loki grew tense after learning of what you could do. To be fair, most people did at first, you were used to it. Be he felt different, his heartbeat sped up and stayed that way. He'd put his guard up, and it brought a pang of hurt to your chest.
"Are you always feeling everything then?" He narrowed his eyes.
"Gods, no," you breathed, "at first I did, and it was awful. But with time, I learned to control it." You tried smiling at him, but his eyes were downcast, focused on his mug.
You bit your lower lip in nervousness. Looking past Loki and out the window, you could see the first signs of the sunrise peeking over the horizon, dark skies turning a soft lilac and blue; you'd been here longer than you realized.
When Loki glanced up at you again, his bright eyes still held sparks of that same softness from earlier. He pursed his lips in a smile; "thank you for the tea." And with that, he got up and left, leaving you in the company of the first birds who always sang in the mornings.
âââ ·â· âââ
You made Loki nervous. It wasn't a bad kind of nervous, it was the kind that sped up his heart and made his cold hands feel clammy.
Out of everyone in the compound, you were the kindest. You'd always shoot him a smile whenever you'd pass by each other in the hallways; you'd always save a seat for him at the table; you always respected his silence whenever you came into the library and caught him reading his book, saying a quiet hello and nothing more, just sitting on one of the armchairs with your own book and allowing him to enjoy his moment, and more recently, your presence too.
When he'd finally learned of your abilities, he got apprehensive, worried even; that you'd pick up on whatever it was that he felt when he was near you, and it would drive you away.
So far, it hasn't happened yet.
The sun was out today, and with it, so was everyone else. In the spacious backyard of the compound, Steve was in charge of the barbecue, and Tony was in charge of the drinks. Natasha had sunglasses covering her eyes while she and Clint bickered over a game of cards; Yelena was sitting beside her sister at the lunch table, however, she seemed to be on Clint's side of the argument. Thor and Banner were laughing together as they made fun of Steve's cooking skills, who tried to defend himself by saying he wasn't actually done yet. Tony looked like he was trying to convince Bucky to drink a dubious-looking beverage, the latter didn't seem too keen on it.
And Loki watched them from afar, from the living room window of his floor. Thor had asked that he join them downstairs, saying something about how he should start trying to fit in and mingle, instead of just existing in the others' presence. Making friends wasn't Loki's forte; as much as he'd fight not to admit it, he was still working up the courage.
With a long sigh, Loki turned around and made his way to the place where he'd been spending most of his free time.
The compound's library was quite huge. One of the few rooms in the whole facility that had warm colors painting the walls and lacked the modern look; tall wooden shelves held thousands of books, a soft beige carpet covered the floor, and there were armchairs and sofas scattered in corners and in-between shelves creating comfortable, isolated nooks for reading. Loki's favorite spot was a worn armchair that stood near one of the big windows, it was surrounded by books that most people didn't read anymore, and the window itself overlooked the treeline in which the sun hid behind at the end of every day; sometimes as he sat there to read, it reminded him of his room back in Asgard.
Loki walked brushing his fingers over the spine of the old books, watching as dust particles danced in the sunlight. But as he rounded the shelf that led to his spot, he abruptly stopped in his tracks, feet glued to the carpet.
You sat cross-legged on the worn armchair, with a thick book lying in your lap that held all of your attention; the sun was shining right behind you, creating a halo above your head and bathing the strands of your hair in golden. You looked like something out of his favorite tale, more enchanting than all of the Midgard poetry books he's ever read.
It seemed like you two were making a habit of bumping into each other unexpectedly.
Loki gulped, squaring his shoulders. A beat passed, and then two, until you finally noticed him from the corner of your eyes. You looked up at him with your eyebrows softly raised in surprise, a gentle smile lifted the sides of your mouth; "Loki, hi."
"Hello," Loki greeted you slowly, his eyes shifting from the book in your lap to your eyes, "shouldn't you be out with the others, enjoying the sun?"
"Should I?" You narrowed your eyes, lazily closing your book and getting up from the armchair. "Shouldn't you?" You asked then, smirking as you raised an eyebrow and took a step towards him.
Loki's heart stumbled inside his chest, he breathed out a laugh. "I'm not big on hangouts."
You hummed, burying your hands in the pockets of your jeans. "Why is that?"
For a moment, Loki dwelled on whether to be honest or come up with an easy lie. But you were looking up at him with such delicacy, such attention, not a trace of hatred or judgment in your warm eyes. It almost looked as if you cared... about him.
Loki breathed in sharply through his nose, the words rolled off his tongue on their own; "I doubt many of your friends would enjoy my presence there."
You blinked up at him, lips parting before you told him quietly; "I would."
There was a distant burning behind Loki's eyes, his mouth felt dry. No one had ever rendered him completely speechless before, yet now, you had done just that. With his silence, you avoided his eyes and ran your tongue over your bottom lip in a motion that he couldn't help but follow.
"And..." You continued, voice sweet as honey, traveling between the bookshelves in the secluded library, "We'll never know if we don't try, right?"
The way you referred to you and him as 'we' got a foreign feeling blossoming inside Loki's chest, all warm and tingly. When you offered him your hand, so you could guide him downstairs to meet the others, he took it.
âââ ·â· âââ
After a full week of taking care of the whole city, Saturday nights were a time for having fun and relaxing; aka movie nights with the team. Everyone sat together in the main living room of the compound, Tony had labeled it 'mandatory bonding day'. The room itself was pretty spacious, dimly lit, with two big comfortable couches and a TV that almost covered the whole wall, and a small kitchen right beside it for easy snacks and drinks.
"Right, I'm thinking... Terminator." Tony suggested as he came from the kitchen with an extra large bowl of popcorn in his arms.
"We saw that one already," Steve complained as he fumbled with the remote.
"There are multiple ones," Tony said, smugly, as he plopped himself on the couch and threw popcorn in his mouth.
Thor, who sat beside you, suddenly perked up with a giddy smile on his face; "oh I've always enjoyed that one who has the girl with the long, magic hair." The god gestured to his own hair.
Tony gaped at him, his fingers holding the popcorn were frozen midair. "Tangled?" He exclaimed then, eyebrows raised, "You wanna watch Tangled? in my house?"
You fought to hide a smile. "Technically it's our house," you quipped, after all, you were to blame for Thor's love for the Disney movie.
"Why don't we just watch both? The night is still young," Yelena finally suggested from her spot by the corner of the couch.
As they continued bickering, your eyes finally caught sight of the one you'd been waiting for.
Loki walked into the living room quietly, his socked feet barely making any noise on the expensive flooring. His gaze found yours before he saw anything else in the room, and a gentle, shy smile appeared on his lips.
You'd grown very close, very fast. Loki had started seeking your presence more and more each passing day; during the mornings he'd wait for you with an extra cup of coffee in hand, during the missions it was already routine that you two were a pair, and during the night you never parted ways without him planting a kiss on your forehead first.
Never in your life had you met someone quite like him, who carried such a bruised heart and still managed to be so loving. It made you wonder if anyone had ever bothered to see how beautiful his soul was, for you had fallen in love with it before you even touched his skin.
You gently patted the vacant seat on your left side, lifting the thin blanket covering your legs so Loki could sit down, and once he did you draped part of it over his legs as well.
"What's today's punishment?" Loki smirked, making himself comfortable beside you. His shoulder flush with yours.
"Stop it, movie nights are nice. I know you secretly enjoy them too," you chuckled, bumping his knee with yours. His proximity raised goosebumps all over your skin, and if you weren't so focused on your own feelings, you would've felt how much Loki's heart was racing as well.
"I only come to these because you do too," Loki mumbled, his eyes focused on the TV and a frown appearing on his eyebrows as the first scenes from Tangled played on the screen.
Your breath caught on your throat. He had said it so casually, so easily. You wondered if he had even realized the weight of his own words. "Right," you whispered, a little breathless.
It didn't take long for the only light in the room to be the one coming from the TV. When Tangled hit the 45-minute mark, Tony was already snoring and Thor had finished two bowls of popcorn. You, however, were wide awake and fully aware of Loki's arm resting on the back of the couch. What a cliche move, you thought to yourself, your cheeks burning hot and biting back a smile.
Loki's face as he watched the movie was nothing short of comical, one would think he was watching a period drama; his lips hovering ever so slightly before he'd scoff at a musical scene, his eyes softening as the romance between Rapunzel and Flynn blossomed, the way he mindlessly played with the ends of your hair. You watched him more than you watched the movie, and you didn't miss the way he froze and gulped when you finally rested your head on his shoulder.
âââ ·â· âââ
The day had started out fine; a cold yet sunny morning, your fingers brushing Loki's when he handed you your cup of coffee, no eminent trouble in the city, everything was normal and fine; until it took a turn for the worse.
You didn't hear the fight, you didn't know exactly what caused it, but you felt it immediately. Anger, hurt, and pain were suddenly heavy in the air even through the closed door of your bedroom. As soon as a shiver ran up and down your spine you got up and all but ran outside to chase the somber feeling.
The elevator doors of your floor weren't even fully open yet when Loki busted his way through them, Thor hot on his heels.
"I knew it was a mistake coming here," Loki snapped, his steps fast as he put as much distance between himself and Thor as he could, nearly running straight into you in the process.
"You know what, brother," Thor began, he had stopped walking, standing in the middle of the living room, "Maybe it really was a mistake to bring you here, you don't care about anyone but yourself, it's almost as if you enjoy hurting people, you can't help it. It'll always be like this, that's why you're better off on your own." Thor wasn't shouting, but his words rang loudly in the room; his chest heaving when he stopped speaking.
You had held your breath the entire time, gripping the back of a kitchen stool until your knuckles turned white. Thor was angry, you could feel it even without being near him, but he didn't mean what he had said, not entirely. Thor's emotions were a passing wind on your skin though, for who you really felt, stood just a few feet behind you.
Loki had his back turned to his brother when he spoke, and he didn't turn around after. Even without looking at him, you could feel the way he trembled, unsteady hands closed into tight fists to mask his hurt; he gulped back a sob, and kept on walking to his bedroom without a word.
You could choke with the amount of pain radiating off of Loki; heavy, sickening, all-encompassing pain that you felt so vividly in your skin and bones. You only shot Thor an angry glance and muttered; "Damnit Thor," before turning around hastily. You thought you heard Thor calling after you, but you decided to ignore him, your priorities already set.
You ran after Loki, catching up just before his door slammed shut. Taking a deep breath, you walked into his bedroom and softly closed the door behind you with a click.
You'd never actually been in Loki's room before, so you took a single moment to glance around. The room itself was a little bare, with only the necessities such as a double bed, a dresser, a desk, a small bookshelf, and the door that led to his bathroom. You made a mental note to gift him something to liven up his space; maybe a plant.
Loki had his back turned to you still, both his hands resting on his waist as his head hung low. But you knew he knew it was you there with him, by the simple fact that he was allowing you to stay.
The silence was a heavy one, packed with the electricity of two souls tightly holding onto each other. Loki was trying so hard to keep all his pain in control, his shoulders shaking with each breath he took; but you could feel it as if it was your own.
"Loki," you said his name in nothing but breath, testing the waters. You took half a step toward him as you fidgeted with your hands.
He didn't answer. You weren't expecting him to.
You pursed your lips before saying; "he didn't mean it," your voice was choked and took effort to come out, the back of your eyes already burning, "what Thor said. He- he didn't mean it."
A few beats passed, and then; "doesn't matter if he did." Loki's words cracked in the middle, it was the most broken you'd ever heard him sound. "He's right."
"He's not," you told him in the same heartbeat, not a tint of hesitation in your tone.
Loki turned around, his gaze finally finding yours and there were tears pooling at the bottom lid of his bright eyes. "Yes, he is," he took a single big step toward you, nearly closing the distance between you and him. Loki's lips trembled as he struggled to keep talking; "and why is it that you care? What's in it for you?"
He was hurt, and he was frustrated, and he was angry; you knew that. Still, you couldn't help but be taken aback by his question. What could he even mean by that? Did he really believe that all this time that you'd been dancing around each other's feelings, it wasn't real?
"Loki, I-" you stuttered, not knowing how to say it without baring your heart in the process. Your hesitation got Loki avoiding his eyes from yours, and you forced yourself to go on. "There's nothing 'in it for me' I just... care about you."
Still waiting for the other shoe to drop, Loki softly shook his head, scoffing. His tears were a blink away from spilling, he felt as if barbed wire was wrapped around his throat, and his heart threatened to jump from his chest and straight into your hands.
It scared him. How easily you could make his walls crumble like paper in the rain. He flinched slightly when he felt the ghost of your touch on his cheek, blinking multiple times when your thumb brushed away a single tear rolling down his cheek. You touched him as if he were porcelain, and yet it still broke him.
"Is it that hard to believe that you're important to me?" You asked then, voice nothing but a whisper in the short space separating your bodies. With your hand still holding his cheek, you forced his eyes back on yours. "You have a good heart, Loki. I just wish you could see it the way I do. I wish everyone could see it."
The crooked smile he gave you nearly made your own tears fall. "You don't know what you're talking about, you don't know what I've done," he told you quietly, more than anything, he sounded utterly defeated.
"But I do know," your free hand found one of his then, and you tangled your fingers together loosely, "I might not have been with the Avengers when you attacked New York, but I was still in New York. And I still mean it, you could tell me every single bad thing you've ever done and I'd still tell you how good you are, because I see it. Every single day, Loki. I feel you every single day, and I can feel all this-" Your words caught in your throat and you tasted your tears on your lips. "-All this pain that you carry around and you still choose to be good."
Too many emotions swam behind his eyes for you to put a finger in any of them. But tears were running freely down Loki's cheeks now, pooling against your hand resting on his cheek.
"What did you-" he tried, gasping for air as if he was underwater. This was foreign territory. You had a place in his heart no one else could ever have, he realized, and his heart was beating faster than his mind knew what to do with. "You've been prying into my emotions without me knowing?" He sounded more desperate than annoyed.
"I didn't want to," You explained quickly, "I- I never meant to, but for some reason, I can't block you out." Shrugging weakly, you slowly dropped the hand resting on his cheek, missing the way he glanced down in search of your warmth. "I tried. I really tried."
There was a vulnerability in Loki's eyes you'd never seen before. He looked at you as if he'd just realized what love is. You wondered if you mimicked the same gazeâyou sure felt it.
Loki shuffled in his stance. His hand, still holding onto yours, tightened its grip. "I'm-" He avoided your eyes, looking somewhere past your shoulder, "I'm sorry you had to feel all that."
You softened at his words, shaking your head and taking another step forward until your sneakers bumped his shoes. "Wasn't your fault," you whispered.
Loki gulped back a sob after you spoke, and that was the last straw for you to let go of his hand and pull his body to yours in an embrace.
He melted into you.
Loki's fingers dug into the fabric of your shirt and he buried his head against your shoulderâyou soon felt it becoming damp, yet you only hugged him tighter. With the desperation he was holding you with, you wondered when was the last time someone had held him.
The soft sobs escaping him were muffled against you. And you couldn't help but stroke his back, the tips of your fingers burying into his very soul. "I'm sorry you had to go through all of this alone." You spoke near his ear, feeling the goosebumps that raised on his skin. "You never deserved it," you promised.
You weren't sure how much time passed, you stayed there for as long as Loki needed you to. When he eventually pulled away, he didn't go far, his hands kept holding your body close to him as if he was afraid you'd leave if he let go.
His bright eyes didn't hold a storm anymore, they were more like a calm sea. A soft frown etched itself into his eyebrows, "did you⊠take away my pain?"
You chuckled quietly, "No, I can't take away people's emotions." You lifted a hand until your fingertips could brush the skin on his forehead, "But I can make them lighter." You traced an invisible line over his eyebrow and until you reached his cheekbone, "Make the weight just a little bit easier to carry."
Loki leaned into your touch, almost closing his eyes. His hands that rested on your back traced your spine and pulled you closer. "Darling, you've been making it easier ever since the first day I met you."
â* ⟠â*ïŸ:â*ïŸ
Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so Iâd appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3
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#loki x reader#loki laufeyson#loki imagine#loki#marvel#loki series#loki x you#marvel x reader#loki x female reader#imagine#fanfic#angst#fluff#loki fanfic#my story#loki laufeyson x reader
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Hourglass
Pairing: AK!Jason x Reader
A/N: ooo boi, letâs try a new Jason! Arkham Knight Jason my beloved my tragic king. I hope my interpretation lives up to expectations. This is dedicated to @heavysighing-dreamyeyes because iâve seen the writing on their AK Jason and it made me want to give it a try :) tons of flowers for them đ ENJOY :D comment any thoughts, i love to read them
Summary: Who is Jason? You donât seem to know anymore.
Tags: angst, hurt/no comfort, toxic Jason, angst follows AK jason he canât escape it, possessive Jason, warnings: mentions of blood
Word Count: 1.1k
âYou lied to me!â You screamed, making your throat sting at the guttural sound leaving your body.
Every inch of your body shook, your eyes blurring at the burn of your angerâŠor sadness? Whatever it was, it was taking over you fully.
Your thoughts completely plagued by old memories, old decisions that you had repeatedly told yourself that were nothing but you overthinking, that it was going to be okay.
Now you were paying for it. Mentally and physically.
âI know.â Jason stood calmly. Voice so normal you felt like you were going crazy.
Tick.
Like this was all some twisted joke and he was ready to tell you it was all fake. That he had not done the one thing you pushed to the back of your mind every night, holding onto Jasonâs body and shirt before you closed your eyes to sleep.
âI canât believe I listened to you!â You started to scratch at your arm. Feeling the prick of your skin as the pain was the only thing keeping you in the present. âI trusted everything you told meââ
Tick.
âI had to do itââ Jasonâs voice steadily explained.
You couldnât look at him. You couldnât bear looking into the same eyes you have laid out everything to.
âYou donât love meâyou never have!â You felt your legs starting to wobble, your body twitching as the emotions of betrayal were all too overwhelming.
Tick.
You were running into furniture, unable to see anything past the blurs of hot tears. The edge of the dining table cutting into your waist causing you to cry out at the sting.
You imagined if someone were to look between the two of you, they would assume you were having two completely different conversations.
Tick.
Two people in two different scenes, two different scenarios.
âI do love you.â Jason stepped forward, letting a tinge of tenderness slip, something he used on the days you two spent together, when he wasnât covered head to toe in blood.
When there wasnât red footsteps littering your home.
But all it did now was make you hazy, no longer capable of deciding what was real or in your emotional madness.
Tick.
He felt too calm. Like he predicted your hysterical reaction and was cleaning up the pieces as you let your deranged mind say and do what you wanted.
Tick.
Your scratched arms hurt, your sides hurt, your chest hurt from the grating breaths leaving your lungs.
Tick.
Every single second felt like agony.
âI love you so much.â Jason took another step.
âNo.â
Tick. Tick.
âWe can get passed thisââ
âStop.â
Make it stop. Make him stop.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
Please.
TickTickTickTick
You couldnât do this.
Each step from his heavy boots echoed in your ears. Your head hung down to your chest and you couldnât bare to move, only caving in to your body.
Your pupils shook, radiating and pulsing as you kept them down.
Jason reached toward you, the blood covering his hands smearing onto your face, under your chin.
Red hot alarms were going off in your head.
Stop. Stop. Stop.
âNo, no! Do not touch me!â You started to pace back, not making it far because your legs were shaking so badly.
The blood stunk.
The metallic stench was making your stomach crawl.
âI did it for us, for you.â Jason kept stepping closer. Bringing the rotten smell closer to you.
âNothing has ever been for us. Look at yourself!â
âPlease. I just need you. Only you.â
âI donât want this. You killed all those people. You donât do that!â You yelled, falling to the floor, breathless as your legs finally couldnât handle your racing heart. âYou donât do that.â You quietly repeated to yourself, all energy draining from your body.
Your high from the anger minimizing as your energy was rapidly being used up.
You continued to mumble to yourself. Incoherent thoughts and debate leaving your mouth in jumbled mumbles as your mind couldnât process anything he was doing.
Jason fell down to his knees next to you.
âYou canât abandon me, not like Bruce did. I can live in the anger that I have for him, but I wonât survive a moment without you in my life. You canât leave me.â Jason shakily grabbed onto your shoulders.
His grip hurting, digging into your skin even through your clothes. Your wince blending into your gasps for air in your need to flail away from him.
The madness in his eyes scared you.
Who was this?
Like a switch, he started to rub your arms, so gentle in the ways you always knew. In the same way you liked, but right now you hated every single disgusting second of it.
âJason, I canât do this! I canâtââ
âNo, no, we can get out of this. I promise.â
âI canât listen to another one of your stupid lies.â
âIâm not lying, Iâm telling you the truth. Please believe me.â He leaned in. Gently nudging his forehead to yours.
âI gave up everything to be here with you.â You choked out. Your body and mind confused at what to consider sincere and the want to reciprocate his physical touch.
âI know, I know. But you have me. We have each other.â He gently whispered.
âBut all of this.â You harshly spoke, looking at his bloodied armor. âThis doesnât involve me as much as you want to believe it does.â
You gasped, tears running down your face, removing parts of the red that stained your face.
âYou didnât wake up from the dead to come back to me. As much as I lie to myself everyday that you did.â You clawed at Jason, but his armor didnât even scratch, no inch of skin visible beside his face.
You were out of breath. It was a miracle you were getting any words out.
âMy Jason is goneââ You cried, voice completely gone.
âIâm right hereââ Jason cooed. His eyebrows scrunching at you completely falling apart in front of him.
âMy Jason is goneâŠheâs gone.â You weeped.
All anger and feeling in your muscles vanished, overcome with grief. Something you had pushed down, that you never fully processed until Jason had come back.
Broken, but in one piece.
It was a miracle, but he always felt off. Like something in your ears was whispering that he wasnât real.
And it was right.
He wasnât the real Jason.
Not the way you knew him.
But he was here.
He was holding you.
Tick.
In shaky hesitancy, you reached up.
Slowly embracing the man who had betrayed you. Who was planning something so atrocious you couldnât fathom the scale of it.
Your legs shook from the cold floor, but you held onto Jason, equally as cold.
With numb fingers, you tightly held on.
You felt him cusp the back of your head.
The blood that wasnât his smeared onto you. A physical seal that you were joining in on the sins of this man, this awful, awful man.
You squeezed him, closing your eyes.
Tick.
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Reunited
Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader
Requested by @geekyandgay98
Request: Could I please have an imagine where the reader was an Avenger who got dusted during Infinity War and her and Natasha were just about to admit their feelings for each other before Thanos came and ruined everything. When everyone comes back after 5 years the reader is sad when she finds out Natasha sacrificed herself to bring everyone back. So when the rest of the Avengers go to return the stones she goes to Vormir instead. When Red Skull sees her bring the stone back he offers to bring Natasha back (she had to die to get the stone, so in my head, bringing the stone back should be a way to bring Nat back) and just the aftermath of this. They reunite and finally get together. And then they come back and Natasha is reunited with everyone.
Disclaimer: I donât own any of the characters, they belong to Marvel.
Tag list: @geekyandgay98
A/N: I'm so sorry it's been over a year since I've written anything. But I'm trying to get back into it! I used google Translate, so Iâm sorry if itâs incorrect.
moya lyubovâ = my love
The darkness fades as you open your eyes. Looking around at your surroundings, you frown in confusion. The last thing you remembered was fighting Thanos.
You had been trying to get to where Natasha was, but that was when you had gotten a weird feeling in your chest, then everything went black. It felt like it was seconds ago. But there's no one around.
You start to panic and begin to frantically look around. "Natasha?! Wanda?! Anyone?!" Your breathing starts to become erratic.
"(Y/N)?!" Someone calls out to you. They finally come into view. Your eyes widen when you see Wanda.
Running over to her, you tackle your best friend in a tight hug. "Wanda, you're alright!"
"What happened?" Wanda asked, pulling away from the hug.
"I don't-"
Before you could finish your sentence that was when a portal opened and Doctor Strange walked out, telling you and Wanda to follow him.
xxxxx
After the long battle, you finally defeated Thanos. Once things had calmed down that's when Clint told you what happened to Natasha, how she sacrificed herself to bring everyone back.
Hearing that was like someone punched you in the chest then ripped your heart out and stomped on it. Right before the first battle with Thanos, you were about to tell Natasha how you felt. But now... now it was too late. She was gone.
At first your were just staring at the ground, breathing heavily. Then your knees gave out, you fell to the ground, crying. Both Wanda and Clint hugged you, trying their best to comfort you. But the only person you wanted was Natasha.
xxxxx
When Steve said he was going to return the stones, you offered to take the soul stone back to Vormir. At first Steve protested, but when he realized he wasn't going to win he stopped. You could be very stubborn when you wanted to.
But returning the soul stone was something you felt like you had to do. So traveling to Vormir is what you did.
As you made your way to Red Skull you could feel a heaviness in your chest the closer you got, you clenched the stone in your hand.
"Ah, someone has returned the soul stone." Red Skull said once you stood in front of him. He took the stone from you. "Now that the stone is back in my possession, I can bring back the one who sacrificed herself."
At hearing that your eyes widen in shock. "But how? I thought once someone sacrificed themselves for the soul stone it can't be undone."
Red Skull shook his head. "Whoever sacrificed themselves for the stone may be brought back should the stone be returned to me."
You had to stop yourself from getting too hopeful, you didn't want to get your hopes up to then suddenly be let down. That would just cause you so much more heartache than you're already dealing with. In the end if it didn't work, you're not sure if you could handle it.
You watched Red Skull carefully, waiting with bated breath. But once it was done and Natasha was standing right in front of you, you couldn't help but let out a sob.
You ran right into her, wrapping your arms around her tightly. Natasha was frozen in shock for a moment, once she realized what was happening she wrapped her arms around you, holding you close.
You pulled away slightly, looking at her. Your mouth opened and shut, unable to get the words you wanted to say to her out.
"Nat... I've been meaning to-" You were cut off when Natasha suddenly kissed you. Your eyes slowly fluttered shut as you kissed her back. Natasha didn't even hesitate to kiss you.
She had been waiting to do that for so long, then the blip happened and you were gone. Those 5 years of you being gone were hell for her, she kept thinking about the things she could've done to save you, all the things she wished she told you sooner.
Now that she was back, she wasn't going to waste any more time.
xxxxx
When you came back to the others with Natasha, to say everyone was in a state of shock was an understatement. There was a lot of hugging and a lot of tears.
Clint had hugged her so fast that he almost knocked her back from the force. Other than you he was dealing with what happened to Natasha extremely hard.
"It's so good to have you back, Natasha." Bruce said.
Natasha gave him a smile and a nod, she wrapped her arm around your waist, holding you close.
"We should all do something together. To celebrate Natasha being back." Bucky said.
Wanda shook her head, she crossed her arms over her chest. "I think that could wait, don't you?" She tilt her head to the side. "Let (Y/N) and Natasha spend some alone time together?" There was no way Wanda was going to let them interrupt your time with Natasha.
Seeing that caused you and Natasha to look at each other, chuckling.
xxxxx
You snuggle into Natasha's arms, resting your head on her chest. You let out a sigh in content as you listen to Natasha's heartbeat.
Natasha smiles, she runs her fingers through your hair. "I love you, moya lyubovâ."
"I love you too, Nat." You blush and smiling, looking up at her.
"I've been thinking about something." Natasha says after a couple minutes of comfortable silence.
"What's that?" You smile up at her.
"I've been thinking about retiring as an Avenger." She smiles.
You sit up. "Nat... are you serious?" You're in complete shock.
Natasha nods, leaning in to kiss you gently. "I think it's time I start doing things that make me happy, and not focusing on the red in my ledger. Plus I want to spend time with you. We lost 5 years... I don't want to waste any more time."
You start to tear up and you move forward, straddling her hips. You lean down, kissing her lovingly. Natasha smiles into the kiss, she cupped your cheek with one hand, pulling you even closer, deepening the kiss.
Let's just say, you and Natasha didn't get that much sleep that night.
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The Aftermath of Intimacy
Ivar The Boneless x gn!reader
Comfortember Day 9: Aftermath
Summary: The shared moments after your intimate hours always were your favorite. His aftercare and love embraced you in Ivar's vulnerability. You loved it so much.
Note: Aftermath, but not violent. I thought of throwing in a different vibe after the rather sad 8th day. This one is sadly very short due to my very stressful week. Life was too much to handle this day, but I managed to create a very comforting prompt. Enjoy! đ€
Warnings: aftercare, mentions of smut, slight nsfw
word count: 595
Ivar descended, lowering himself onto your body, his head coming to rest upon your chest. His breaths were deep and ragged and he was exhausted from the intimate moments you both shared before. Your hand traced soothing patterns up and down his spine, you enjoyed his weight on your body. The two of you were a sweaty mess, relieved yet exhausted. The air hung heavy with a heady mixture of shared desire and the intoxicating scent of your entwined bodies.
Both of you lay in the aftermath, a sweaty and tangled tableau of passion. Ivarâs heart pounded so strongly you felt his heartbeat on your lower stomach. It was a moment of vulnerability and closeness - a bridge between the raw intensity of your lovemaking and the quiet tenderness that followed.
Ivar, panting and visibly tired, slowly began to lift himself from your body, his blue eyes glancing at your smile. He reassured himself that you were okay, not hurting and alright. Soon his expression softened to a tender smile, as he dragged himself off of you. The room was filled with a gentle hush as Ivar, still catching his breath, shifted to rest beside you.
His fringes gently brushed against your face, an act of adoration. In times like these his anger vanished from the earth. No one else but you knew of his loving side, where not a single madness tormented him.
âAre you alright?â He murmured, his voice a low, comforting rumble. His questions was simple, but in that moment, they carried a weight of sincerity. Your eyes avoided his blue focus, looking down on his body. You rolled over, getting closer to his body.
Your voice hummed, âYeah, Ivar.â
In this private sanctuary, away from the chaos of the outside world, he allowed himself to be not a warrior but a companion in the aftermath of shared intimacy. Leaning in, Ivar pressed a soft kiss to your lips.
His kisses after your shared intimacy were your favorite. His care and love flowed through your whole body, telling you how much he admired you. As Ivar deepened the kiss, the warmth of his embrace enveloped you. His arms dragged you closer you, pulling you on his warm body. Breaking the kiss, Ivar rested his forehead against yours, his eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort or unspoken need. He didnât want you to hurt, feel used or being scared.
âTrust me, I feel good,â you reassured him, whispering these words in his ears.
The man you shared your bed with hugged you, petting your head. His voice once again filled the room. âI worry that I am too rough with you, my love,â he admitted, looking down at you and meeting your sparkling eyes. Once again you reminded him of your angelic presence, of your strength and love.
You chuckled, kissing his collarbone as a response. Your touch comforted him and his body relaxed further, not needing to worry about your potential discomfort. Suddenly you shifted, sliding off of his body and slowly standing up. You covered yourselves in a long garment.
âIâll get us something to drink and eat. Do you want something special, my great warrior?â
Ivarâs eyes lightened up, he nodded and smiled. Your pure, naked body in that see through garment charmed him, so much he almost wanted to drag you back into the bed.
Though, your sweetness was too kind and the young Ragnarsson wanted to feel loved and admired.
âAle, and you as a dessert,â he replied to meet your chuckling laughter.
#ivar x reader#ivar lothbrok#vikings ivar#ivar ragnarsson#ivar the boneless#ivar the boneless x you#ivar the boneless x reader#vikings x you#vikings x reader#vikings
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The Jock Formula 2.1 - Living with JongHo
Sorry for the long wait, guys. Finally, the chapter I promised with the Jock you chose in the poll is here.
_________________________________________
Dohyun's POV
Being a nerd in this campus in a complete hell. We get constantly harassed by Josh and his gang, and everything got even worse when my friend George invented the "Jock Formula".
It was supposed to save us, but Andrew got everything for him and now is joining this hell of a frat. It can be sad for the rest of our friend group, but for me it's worse, as it has always been.
I'm JongHo's twin brother. Yes, that big and burly guy actually has a nerdy relative that he is quite ashamed of. We were supposed to be the same, but I was never inclined to sports, and those gross eating competitions, so while he kept growing, I stayed the same.
My place isn't in this frat at all, but our strict parents didn't want us living apart on college so Jongho only moved to the frat with the condition that I went together. And I've been unhappy since.
They treat me like a maid. I have to wake up earlier to cook breakfast for them, clean ALL of their mess. And it's a hell of a mess. Apart from the dirty and cruel pranks that they pull on me constantly. On top of all that, I have to endure my big and brainless brother everyday, since we share the same room.
They are having a hazing ceremony today, I won't even go downstairs to say anything to that traitor, but I can hear the loudest burps and farts ever, and all kinds of noise those meatheads produce. Happily, those ceremonies take a lot, so I'm having crumbs of peace this night.
I put my headphones on and put some ASMR to muffle the outside noise. I feel I can sleep like an angel without him here, so when I close my eyes, I loose no time in getting asleep.
Unconsciously, the peaceful time is feeling oddly long, when It's interrupted by a loud thud in the door, followed by it's opening:
"Think I missed the handle again haha damn, tonight was fun."
It was Jongho. Peace ended. He can't even come in the room quietly in the middle of the night. I heard him opening the fridge and grab a bottle of something.
"Ugh, so thirsty..." loud gulps followed by heavy steps. "You there?" I can FEEL his massive frame over me, maybe if I keep pretending that I'm asleep, he leaves me alone.
"Wake up, princess." He says, poking my face with his heavy finger, but I won't budge. I hear his stomach rumbling as he states "Gosh, I'm so full... I know what will wake you up."
With that, I fell his heavy weight smothering my head. I know this feeling too well, his huge and sweaty cheeks mold all around my face, while he adjusts himself to get his crack right above my nose. Im cooked.
"Shouldn't have eaten that many hot-dogs... HNNNGG" I feel him straining and forcing out a a fart.
FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT
It slapped like a punch on my face, as it stink intoxicated my senses, while the explosive noise overpowered my ears. It was long, loud and deep, not losing power once, while it rumbled all over my face.
*COUGH* MMPHMMPPBMM *COUGH*
I tried to scream and got muffled by his massive ass. And the taste of his fart invading my mouth after was demonic. He started to rub his butt on my face as I felt him laughing above me.
"Hahaha that can waken the dead, right?" He dumbly stated, almost killing me. I managed to push him over my face, making him land on my chest. Suffocating me all the same.
"What do you want, you JERK?" I ask with the remaining force I have, while he grins and sniffs his own fart.
"Damn, that was a monster, happy that wasn't on my face haha" he thumped on his full belly. "Ate so much this night, only your friend Drew could beat me, you know? He is part of the group now, loser."
"Don't mention that TRAITOR near me. I don't want to hear about Andrew, may he gags on his own gas." I curse him. It boils my blood to know that a guy I called friend is now joining my biggest enemies.
"I don't know about Drew, but you're gagging on this..." Jongho scooted a little to the side, bending his ass towards me, and forced out another fart:
FRFRFRFRFRFRFRFRFRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRFTFTFRFTFTTTTTTTT
I gagged.
"Hahahaha, I can't wait for the new pranks we are going to pull on you, loser. Now, I gotta sleep" Jongho got up and I finally felt the relief of his weight leaving my chest. But I didn't see him going to the bathroom to change or shower. He is stinking of beer and hot sauce.
"Aren't you missing something? Are you gonna sleep reeking like this?" I ask, trying to save work for me tomorrow, if he changes, I don't have to wash the sheets.
He looks at me with an uncomfortable face, aa he brings his head to his stomach, I hear it rumbling when he answers: "Yeah... I think I'm missing something..." he gives his belly a strong push and bend his face over mine, opening his mouth wide, letting it all rip:
gOOOOoooOOOOOOOOOOOOooooOOODDDDDD-NNIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEUUUUUUUUUUURRRPPPPPPPPPPP
As he answers me with an ungodly belch, that covers my face with saliva, bits of food and a sickly smell of soda and sausage. He grins as he jumps on his bed and I turn light headed, passing out.
_________________________________________
I wake up feeling sick in the day after. Gosh, I hate them so much. Our room is still stinking, and I'm tired just to think of how much cleaning work I have to do as they messed everything up on that hazing.
I turn to my side and Jongho's bed is empty. Bad sign. He NEVER wakes up early, that can only mean that I'm... late.
I fear for my life.
I get ready fast and go downstairs, maybe I can make up for the time lost, and the first thing I see when I arrive at the kitchen the scene I see is terrifying.
Empty plates all over, with Jongho, Josh, Sal and Andrew sat at the table, looking at me.
"Forgot about breakfast today?" Josh asks, not giving me a good morning even.
"I-I..." I was about to say, when Sal added: "So we had to do it for ourselves..."
Gosh I'm so screwed...
"But no worries, you didn't cook us breakfast, but we will give yours. Sit" Jongho said. I wanted to run but there was no escape. The only place left was between my brother and Andrew, they already wanted to tease me.
As I sat, Andrew said: "Morning, loser." Putting his arm around me, his pits were already stinking.
"I have a name and you know that, Andrew. How could you?" My blood boiled.
"I have a name and it is Drew now. I can address you by how I want though, whimp." The boys laughed at his response and I gritted my teeth.
I was hungry cause I didnt have dinner yesterday. The hazing kept everything busy so I only had some snacks, my stomach rumbled, making them laugh.
"Hahaha, he is hungry guys, why don't we give him his meal already?" Josh commands.
"I will begin with the appetizer" "Drew" says. Gosh I hate to even think calling him that.
"Open your mouth." He says.
"No way! I'm not doing that!" As I thought of getting up, Josh held me, and Drew pinched my cheeks, forcing my mouth open.
"Now we get it haha eat that!" He starts to swallow air and get close, very close. As my open mouth is in line with his, he rips a nasty belch in it, making me taste what he had for breakfast
BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRPPPPP!! *phwooooshhh*
He even blows afterwards, making me teary eyed.
They all high five and laugh, as I see Sal getting in front of me next.
"Now for the entreé, baked beans with a pinch of..." Sal turned around and bent over, displaying his huge bubbly ass on my face. I felt his hand grabbing the back of my head, making me land with my open mouth right in front of his crack. "...my stink... HNNGG"
PBPBPBPBPPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTFTFTFTTFTTTTFTFTFTFTTTTTT
And it stunk to high heavens. All of their gas is potent, but Sal's has twisted smell, making the worse. And I had to swallow.
As I gagged, the guys laughed about him making me eat his fart. I felt some movement, and now Jongho is holding me while Josh got in front of me.
"Let me see if I got your order right, you wanted a double... UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRPPP" He added with a nauseating belch on my face. As I didn't have time to process this, I saw him turning around and lifting his leg:
"With a side of... FRFRFRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRTRTRRRRRRRTRTRTTTTT!!"
They couldn't contain themselves with so much laughing at his stupid joke. At least, it's finished... they got "my order".
"What a restaurant will he think this is?" I hear Jongho say behind me. "If we don't give his dessert?" That got the guys expecting something. In a swift move, he let go of the hold on me and pressed his ass on my face, pinning me against the chair.
"A full cake, as you ordered, sir" Jongho said, rubbing his colossal ass on my face. I could hear some flashes now, bet they are recording it.
I heard him grunt, and it happened:
PBPBPBPBPPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBPBPBPBPBPPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBFFFFTTTT!!
A powerful and huge fart rumbled my face, and went straight down my throat. I could taste the twisted flavour of his breakfast as he filled me with his gas.
"Aaaaahhh, bon appetit!" Jongho sighs in relief, high-fiving his friends. They leave the room as I'm too weak to stand up.
Uuurrpp- I burp as some of their gas come back.
I hate my life.
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INTERVIEW 005
with. rafe cameron
includes. mean!rafe, degradation, dom!rafe, slight watersports mention (but no actual watersports), kinda free use
â kinktober masterlist
With the way heâs bouncing you on his cock, you start to consider that he has absolutely no sympathy at all.Â
The night started close to how it usually does: Rafe pulling you into his bedroom, kissing you like he would open you up and devour you if possible, his hands peeling your clothes off even without you having to initiate the action.Â
Heâd coaxed you into positioning yourself over him, taunting you as you sunk down onto his cock, your hisses and wincing drowned out with his own teasing.Â
âYou begged for this and now youâre gonna sound like you donât want it? Is that it? You donât want my cock?âÂ
You could feel him start to pull out, his rough hands lifting you up by your waist just a few centimeters. Your head was already shaking, sadness already sitting heavy on your chest with a burden you knew you couldnât handle if Rafe left you alone.Â
You shouldâve known by his almost-sadistic smile that he wasnât going to have any mercy for the rest of the night. Youâd always been like puddy in Rafeâs hands, a situation youâd gotten yourself in just at the beginning of the summer but it feels like youâve been indebted to him for bloodlines with the way you bend to his will.Â
âThatâs what I thought, sweetheart,â he told you, grin only spreading as you started to ride him.Â
Youâd ended up here, tears steadily sliding down your cheeks from the mixture of pleasure and pain. Youâd never had pain inflicted onto you like this before, not a direct hit from Rafeâs words or his hands, but a build up of intensity of orgasms, almost too many as you could barely handle it at this point.Â
You were the definition of spent, limbs jelly, feeling both floaty and heavy, keeping you stuck straight to the bed. Which is where Rafe wanted you. Youâre exactly how he wanted.Â
Pliable, nothing but a mess of limbs and holes that he could abuse for the rest of the night. As he obviously intended to do, no slack in his hips as they slap against yours, the wet sounds of his dick plunging deep into the sticky, wet mess that heâs made of your cunt.Â
Cum, spit, your own arousal, and probably some piss mixed in there, all leaking out of you no matter how much Rafe attempts to slide it back in.Â
You know that if you opened your mouth and said what he would need to hear to stop, he would. He would hear it over his grunts, over your moans, over the slip and slide of your mix of fluids, and he would pull out and do whatever you needed him to do.Â
But thatâs not what you want.Â
You like to be treated like nothing but a body for Rafe to use. Nothing but a pair of tits for him to fuck and spill his cum over.Â
Nothing but a pretty mouth for him to kiss, or spit in, or even fucking piss in if he wanted to.Â
Nothing but a tight cunt and an even tighter ass to force his thick cock into, fucking until the sting from the abuse was the only thing you could feel.Â
Itâs sick, but it feels so fucking good to be desired like this, even if itâs the most carnal desire youâve ever known to exist.
#đžïž đđđđđđđđđ#rafetobr!#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron smut#mean!rafe#kinktober 2023#kinktober
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hello I hope youâre doing well đ„°
A very specific scenario I have is coming home to a sleeping Carlos after being away for a few days and he wakes up to the sound of the bedroom door and itâs just very soft warm fluff both are so affectionate and cuddly Carlos is still sleepy and giving each other long hugs and neck kisses as they missed each other, thank you very much just thinking about this helps me sleep at night it would be incredible to read it
the love i feel for you - cs55
pairing: carlos sainz x fem!reader
summary: carlos came home from austria before you, you find him sleeping slightly and enjoy his sleepiness
word count: 1.6k
warnings: tooth rotting fluff
note: thank you so much for your request, one of my absolute favs to this day!! hope you enjoy reading it and you can sleep better at night :)
masterlist / taglist
You were a nurse, working late was your standard. You knew Carlos came home today. You had watched the race on Sunday before you went to work. Happy and sad at the same time. The time penalty didnât help the case. But you had to focus on work.
You knew he would be home before you. Asking yourself if heâd stay awake or was already in bed. You car was loud when you parked it. Cursing it, you killed the engine and stepped out onto the parking lot. Feet heavy, they dragged against the concrete. You were tired and just wanted to feel Carlosâ arms against your body.
He was gone since the last Monday, you havenât seen him in a week. Your heart clenched for the man. You knew what you were getting yourself into when you started dating Carlos. But you didnât think it would be this hard.
You tried to be as silent as possible, but the door didnât play your game. The loud creak made you still your movements.
You knew Carlos was asleep by the dark apartment. Everything seemed lifeless and still. Your heart was beating like crazy in your chest. You just hoped that Carlos didnât hear the bloody door.
Carlos heard the door squeak. His body stirred and the pillows didnât seem right anymore. He sat up, rubbing at his eyes and wondered if heâd only imagined the sound, as he didnât hear anything else.
His feet hit the floor, the cold wooden tiles sent shocks up his legs. He needed a moment to collect himself, before he could trust his body to stand up without falling down again. He was exhausted. The race robbed his last nerve and his body ached.
It took him five steps to grip the door handle and push the door open. Your eyes scanned the room and saw your bedroom door opening. You cursed yourself out - you did wake him. You rushed to take your shoes off and hang your jacket on the wall.
A slouchy Carlos entered the room and his eyes were searching for you. Head heavy and and eyes tired, he saw you standing in the entrance. He sighed, a sigh that signaled you, that he was glad you were finally home. He dragged his body through the corridor, where he finally met you.
Your arms snaked around your body, scratching his naked torso on the way. Your head hit his shoulders and he felt your breath on his collarbone, tickling it. His chin found its way to your shoulder and laid there. His scruff grazing your cheek.
You felt him tightening his grip on you and pulling you closer to him. You held him close, until your heartbeats raced in sync. Both hearts on P1.
You wanted to say something, even opened your mouth, but closed it again; you didnât want to ruin the moment. You guided him towards the bedroom, you were so tired. He followed you, hand in hand.
You felt him lift your arm, warm and dry lips mer your hand. One, two, three, ten kisses were placed on your soft skin. His eyes closed, he felt the goosebumps on your skin. You shuddered.
You turned around and embraced the love of your life. His warm body pressed against yours. His hand stroking up and down your back. You sighed. Suddenly your clothes felt too much and you had to take them off. He helped you out of your pants and your shirt.
Underwear long gone you grabbed under your pillow to find your night gown - an old shirt of Carlos. It felt cool against your skin and Carlosâ look made you shudder even more. You sat down on your side of the bed and Carlos scooted over towards you. His hands laid on your shoulders, massaging them lightly. No words were spoken, but you didnât have to, you understood each other perfectly without them.
You took a deep breath, the tension leaving your body with every touch of your man. He came closer, his torso now against your backside. Hardness reached softness. He slowly guided you to lay down. Your back now against his chest. His hands on your hair, grabbing and twisting at loose strands. Your hands roamed his thighs up and down. Nails scratching the surface, you felt his hair standing.
Both of your eyes were closed, content with the contact. You missed him dearly. You had to look at him. You turned around to take a good glance at the Spaniard. His face relaxed, no trace of worry in sight. His long eyelashes covering his closed eyes. His nose only barley moving with his every breath - you wouldnât notice it if you werenât staring. His big and kissable lips just looking at you. You pressed your lips together. Putting your hands down onto the mattress, you lifted yourself up, just so much you could reach his face with your face.
He didnât open his eyes, but his mouth ever so lightly twitched. He knew what you were going to do. You blew onto his face, something he didnât expect - his face scrunched up and opened one eye. Your amused face greeted his sight. He loved your smile, even though you only smiled at him, because you were teasing him. He didnât care.
You leaned your face closer to his, until your lips met. Slow and soft. The kiss was dry and warm. It felt almost too dry. Slowly you let your tongue swipe over his lower lip. He smiled and let you pass. The kiss turned into a slow burn make out session. Passionate and loving. Tongues touching and lips parting.
Your hands were placed on the side of his face, your whole body weight put on his - he didnât mind. His hands were on your back, stroking up and down. You had to part some time, gasping for air he only smiled at you. He could still make you breathless - after all these years.
You werenât laying in bed right, heads on the side, rather than on top. Your pillows were to your left. Carlos rearranged you two until you laid in bed like normal people. Your hand searched for his, when you found it he immediately took it into his big and calloused hand. It felt right, like your hands were made for each other.
You turned your body towards him, pecking his lips softly. But for him, it wasnât enough. It began to get hot, his body heat and yours mixing together and creating a hotness you never experienced before. It felt like your body was on fire - but it felt good. His lips met your again for the fourth time that evening. Not dry anymore, but wet with your own salvia. It was more a smooch than a kiss. The plopping sound loud in the quiet and dark room. Your right hand on his bare waist, the left still in his.
You knew he was ticklish, thatâs why you tried to be as soft and light as possible. You embraced him, your nails leaving half lion imprints on his skin at one point. You kissed his shoulder, moving up to his neck. You felt his stubble against your lips. It felt like some sort of massage. His breath hitched as you reached his most sensitive part. Sucking on it he almost moaned. You felt his hot breath on your neck. Soon it was replaced with his hot kisses. He did the same to you - he found your sensitive spot and started sucking.
You were sure you needed quite some make up to cover it up tomorrow. But at that moment, life was good and you didnât think about anything after right this second. His tongue met your hot skin, it almost made a sizzling sound, so hot was your neck. He licked a stripe up to your ear, took your earlobe between his teeth and pulled on it.
You smiled. It was your favourite thing - laying in bed with Carlos and feeling him everywhere. Suddenly he turned on his back, took you with him. This position was familiar, the same you had earlier. Your head on his hairy chest, you felt him kiss your head multiple times. You closed your eyes again, ready to sleep.
It didnât take long for you to fall asleep and Carlos enjoyed just holding you and looking at you - all relaxed and safe and sound.
Bonus scene:
The next morning Carlos was up early. When you woke up you tried to feel for his body but only met an empty and cool bed side. But you did smell coffee. Your feet hit the ground and carried you to the kitchen. Two mugs with steaming coffee stood on the table. Next to it a little note.
Will be back soon, love you xx
As soon as you read it, the front door opened and the smell of fresh croissants filled your nose. You heard his shoes hit the floor and the keys dangle from the keyhole. When he entered the kitchen he smiled at you. His head leaned down and reached your lips. They tasted like mint, that means he already brushed his teeth. You kissed him back with poor mouth breath. He didnât care.
You two sat down and had breakfast. It was lovely and as you got up to bring the dishes into the kitchen and clean the table, he grabbed your arm and pulled you into his lap. His face buried deep into your hole between your neck and shoulders. His nose nuzzled against the bare skins showing. You closed your eyes and tried to savour this moment, tried to save it and put it into your brain, so youâd never forget it.
°°°
taglist: @ironmaiden1313 , @topguncultleader , @biglittlesecret , @gulabjamooon , @lovelyy-moonlight , @peachyplumsss , @mistrose23 , @copper-boom , @love4lando , @champomiel , @serenityleah , @iloveyou3000morgan , @angelwithoutmywings , @elleeeee21 , @youkissedareaderinthedark , @mikauraur , @thybulleric , @lpab , @fdl305 , @mellowarcadefun
#f1 x reader#formula 1#f1#carlos sainz x reader#carlos sainz fanfic#carlos sainz f1#carlos sainz fluff#f1 fluff#ferrari#formula one fluff#carlos sainz x y/n#carlos sainz x female reader#carlos sainz x you
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hot dream ; billy butcher
fandom: the boys
pairing: billy x reader
summary: you fall asleep in butcherâs sweater and have a rather steamy dream, not realising that everyone heard you moaning butcherâs name in your sleep
notes: this is so bad, and it makes me so sad because i was so excited to write it, but work has been so blegh that i just feel like i failed??? i donât know, itâs definitely not my best writing, but itâs something! hope yâall can still enjoy!
warnings: swearing, google-translated french, some very incorrect chemistry, and a tiny bit of smut (iâm working myself up to actually writing it, i promise!)
^ the sweater
word count: 4691
âItâs fucking cold in here,â you say, rubbing your arms as you step into the living room.
Frenchie and Kimiko are curled up under a blanket on the couch, and Butcher is lounging on the single seat sofa with his feet propped on top of the coffee table. You know MM is on his way back from Moniqueâs house with spare clothes and comforters, but you also know how caught up he can get when he spends time with Janine.
âYou do not have a jumper?â Frenchie asks.
You shake your head, âThe last sweatshirt I had was burnt to a crisp two weeks ago.â
New York City is quickly falling into winter, the air turning crisp and heavy clouds rolling overhead as news channels warn about impending snow within the week.
Kimiko looks up at you and wriggles her arms out of the blanket to sign an apology, gesturing to the jumper she wears as the only one she has.
Butcher sighs and pushes himself off the sofa, âIâve got somethinâ.â
The tiny butterflies in your stomach flitter to life, bouncing around excitedly at the thought of wearing Butcherâs clothing. You move a hand from your arm to your stomach and curse the stupid giddiness that this man aroused within you. Itâs ridiculous, really, and just a stupid crush, but he never fails to elicit some sort of irritating physical reaction within your body every time he speaks.
He disappears into the main bedroom for a moment before remerging with a black garment in hand. âHere,â he says, handing it to you, âdonât get it burnt though, itâs my favourite.â
You give him a cheeky smile, âI make no promises.â
Your fingers brush his as you take the sweater from his hand, and his eyes capture yours in a stare you cannot break. His lip quirks into that gorgeous smirk youâve come to enjoy so much, sending those stupid butterflies into a frenzy before he turns back toward the sofa.
You release a breath you hadnât realised you were holding and with numb fingers, find the bottom of the sweatshirt before pulling it over your head. His scent hits you like a truck, rushing through your nose and burning all the way to your lungs. Your chest squeezes around your erratic heart, your ribs aching as they struggle to contain the throbbing muscle. It feels like youâve been punched in the sternum, and your limbs feel like jelly wrapped in the soft material saturated by his scent.
You know this sweater almost too well, having admired him in it countless times. Itâs a little too big on you, but on him, itâs perfect. The thick material hugs his shoulders and fits his torso in the most delicious way. Itâs ridiculous that he can make something as plain as this sweater look downright sinful.
âBetter?â Butcher asks, his eyes sparkling with a mischief that makes you wonder what he knows.
You nod, âMuch.â
Kimiko shuffles over on the couch so that you can squeeze between her and the arm, the side closest to Butcher. You try to focus on the lame action film playing on the television, but the smell of the jumper clouds your mind, and you can feel Butcherâs gaze wandering over to you every few seconds. You want to say something, but every string of words that come to mind are laced with innuendo and teasing, and although youâre very fond of flirting with this man, youâre not sure you can handle it in your current state.
The sun is well below the horizon by the time MM arrives back, his arms full of blankets and second-hand clothing. Kimiko takes two jumpers and a blanket before seeing herself off to bed, and MM does the same shortly after. Frenchie throws another blanket over himself and invites you to share his warmth while Butcher remains on the single sofa with nothing but his trench coat. After almost three movies, your eyelids begin to droop, and you let your head fall onto Frenchieâs shoulder as sleep slowly consumes you.
You startle awake, your mind swirling with images of Butcher. You can still see him hovering over you, trailing open-mouthed kisses down your stomach, and his wicked grin as he settles between your thighs. Heat pulses between your legs at the fading memory, and your skin feels like itâs on fire, phantom touches lingering in the shape of Butcherâs hands on your hips, your breasts, your throat.
You have to blink a few times before the living room comes into focus, bright light flooding the space through the drawn curtains as dust mites float through the air. The blankets covering you suddenly feel like they weigh a tonne, and you have to throw them off your sweaty body before you pass out.
âGood morning, mon petit rayon de soleil,â Frenchie greets you, sitting in the sofa where you last consciously saw Butcher.
âHey,â you mumble as you sit up.
His grin is wide and cheeky, âDid you have a good sleep?â
âIt was okay,â you reply, rubbing your neck, âas good as it gets on this old couch.â
âI did not have the heart to wake you,â he says, âyou looked so peaceful and were⊠humming so contently.â
You frown sceptically, âOkayâŠâ
MM is in the kitchen, standing at the stove with a goofy smile as he watches the eggs in the pan cook.
âWhat time is it?â
âAlmost ten,â Frenchie responds.
âWhat?â you demand, âYou let me sleep for that long? Donât we have things to do today?â
MM chuckles, âWe didnât want to wake you, as Frenchie said, you were so content.â
Spikes of panic begin prickling your skin and your eyes dart from Frenchie to MM, searching their impish faces for any sign of what could be making them so smug.
âWhereâs Butcher?â
âMonsieur Charcutier had to excuse himself,â Frenchie says, âbut he is awake.â
MM serves the eggs onto two plates and carries them over to the table where Kimiko is sat. She grins at him before digging in to her breakfast, and your own stomach begins to rumble.
âI suppose I will get my own,â Frenchie sighs, pushing himself off the sofa and walking toward the kitchen.
âIâll have some too,â you call after him, âthanks, Frenchie.â
He smirks at you with the carton of eggs in hand, âAnything for you, mon amour. How do you like your eggs?â
âHard boiled,â MM replies before you can, snickering as he takes a bite of toast.
Frenchie giggles too, and he quickly turns toward the stove to avoid your dubious stare.
âWhat the fuck are you two on this morning?â
They donât respond as their laughter continues to bubble. Frenchie waves a hand dismissively, still refusing to look at you, before placing a pot and a pan on top of the stove.
âI prefer fried,â you mutter, still frowning.
He nods and moves the pot back into the cupboard just as the doors to the main bedroom creak open. Butcher steps out in faded jeans and yet another hideous Hawaiian shirt with only three of the lower buttons fastened. His hair is a complete mess and his cheeks flushed red; he looks as if heâd just sprinted several blocks.
âYouâre awake,â he states.
You nod, âSo are you.â
He chuckles, âBeen awake for a coupleâa hours, love.â
MM is struggling with his breakfast, his laughter refusing to subside though he does his best to quell it, his whole face turning red. Frenchie has turned his back to you completely now, but you can still see his shoulders shaking as he giggles into his hand.
âDid I miss something?â you ask Butcher as he falls into the single sofa.
His smirk just as devilish as Frenchieâs, âNothinâ at all, in fact, I think itâs me who missed somethinâ.â
âOkay,â you sigh, âyouâre all being weird, and Iâm incredibly sweaty, so Iâm going to shower.â
âBreakfast will be ready for you when you return, mon amour,â Frenchie says, âtake your time cleaning your- uh, humiditĂ©.â
Butcher chuckles as another wave of mirth hits MM, and he begins to choke on his mouthful of food. You roll your eyes before turning on your heel and stomping toward the bathroom, leaving them to their stupidity.
The cold air nips at your bare skin as you strip in the bathroom, carefully laying Butcherâs sweater on the vanity before stepping under the warm shower spray. You take your time washing your hair and scrubbing your body, hazy flashes of hot touches and wet kisses invading your mind as you close your eyes and let the water soak your skin. By the time you shut the shower off, youâre thoroughly clean and a little dizzy with desire. You dry off before wrapping the towel around your body and gathering your clothes to dash across the hall toward your bedroom.
You canât help glancing in the direction of the living room when you step out, your eyes locking with Butcherâs dark gaze for the split second it takes you to reach your room. Your pulse is thrumming at a ridiculous pace as you unwrap the towel and turn toward your dresser. You slip on a fresh pair of panties and jeans, and turn to the sweater youâd tossed on your bed. Your stomach grumbles impatiently while you procrastinate, and you curse quietly to yourself before slipping the sweater over your head without anything underneath.
The living room wreaks of burnt toast when you remerge from your bedroom, and Frenchie is swearing at the toaster in such fast French, you canât possibly try to understand it.
âDid you ruin my breakfast?â you ask, walking past Butcher and leaning your hip on the kitchen bench.
âI did not ruin anything,â Frenchie says with a frown, âthis good for nothing piece of shit machine did.â
You can feel a pair of eyes burning into the back of your head and you know itâs Butcher, but you refuse to turn around, instead joining Frenchie in the kitchen to take over the toaster. After a few minutes of patience, the toast pops perfectly grilled and you place two pieces on each of your plates before Frenchie tops it with eggs.
âSo,â MM says when you and Frenchie join him at the table, âwhatâs todayâs plan?â
âWe need to go back to the old safe house,â Frenchie replies.
âThe basement,â you note between bites of toast.
He nods, âWe need to gather anything we left behind that might be useful. I am running out of materials and I know we left a stash of ammunition there.â
âWhoâs to say it isnât already gone?â MM queries.
Frenchie shrugs, âWe do not know, but it is worth a try.â
You want to point out that it isnât really necessary for all of you to go, but you know that will only end in an argument, so you focus on finishing your breakfast. Once youâre all done, MM collects the empty plates and begins washing up while the rest of you go to gather your things.
You pack a small crossbody bag with your phone and keys before tucking a sheathed dagger into the back of your jeans, just in case. When you step back into the living room, Frenchie and MM are waiting by the door, whispering and giggling about something until they see you approach. You want to demand they let you in on whatever stupid joke youâd missed out on this morning, but Butcherâs heavy footsteps capture your attention before you can speak.
âRighâ then, lads,â he says, tucking his hands into the pockets of his coat, âletâs get on with it.â
Your gaze lingers on his lips as he speaks before trailing down his neck and bare chest, finding a mere two more buttons fastened than before. Heat rises to your cheeks, creeping all the way up to the tips of your ears as your mouth begins to water and another blurry image of Butcher fills your mind. You see him on his knees before you, looking up with hungry eyes and parted lips, murmuring something filthy that doesnât quite reach your ears.
You gasp, blinking rapidly to return to reality and finding three curious faces staring back at you.
âAre you okay?â Frenchie asks.
You nod, âIâm good, letâs go.â
You step between him and MM and walk out the door first, turning down the hall without bothering to wait. Theyâre giggling again by the time they catch up to you in the lobby, and even Butcher is wearing an amused smirk. He winks as he walks past you, pulling his car keys from his pocket before holding the front door open for the rest of you. Unlike every other time youâve all been walking toward the car, no one calls shot gun. Frenchie simply opens the back door for Kimiko to slide in before he does, and MM follows without a single complaint.
You look at Butcher, âWhat the fuck?â
He shrugs, but his smirk is still saturated with amusement and the glint in his eyes tells you that this has something to do with whatever they were all being so smug about.
âYouâre all pissing me off today,â you sigh, before walking around the car to the passengerâs side.
Youâre not upset about getting the front seat, nor are you annoyed that you get to sit beside Butcher and practically drool over him while he has to pay attention to the road. You are, however, beginning to panic about what it is that theyâre not telling you.
The drive isnât long, and you spend most of it watching Butcherâs hands on the wheel, fantasising about how they would feel caressing every inch of your skin. It almost feels like a memory as you picture his fingers digging into your hips or wrapped gently around your throat, and you can feel your body growing hot within the thick material of his sweater. You practically fall out of the car when it finally stops, gasping for cool air and willing your mind to focus on the task at hand.
Frenchie leads the way down a narrow alley and pushes open the familiar metal door before the rest of you follow him into the dark, damp corridor of what used to be your hide out. You all stay silent for a few minutes, creeping around and checking for any unusual activity or signs that the place might be bugged or trapped. Itâs definitely been ransacked, but there are thin films of dust blanketing almost every surface which indicates that whoever was looking in here had given up a long time ago.
âOkay,â Frenchie speaks up once deciding that youâre safe, âletâs see what weâve got left.â
You split up and wander around the huge, open basement. There are two curtain dividers sectioning the space into what you used as âbedroomsâ, and a single chipped, wooden door leading to the tiny bathroom at the very back. MM goes in there first, rummaging around for half a minute before declaring it empty.
âIs there anything in particular that weâre looking for?â you ask, turning to Frenchie, âBecause thereâs a lot of crap in here, and as much as Iâd love for you all to rummage through my old underwear drawer, maybe we should-â
Before you can finish your sentence, Frenchie and Butcher take off, abandoning the shelves they were searching and knocking one of the curtain dividers over as they scramble toward the old dresser you used to use.
âHey!â you shout, your eyes growing wide as you hurry after them.
Theyâre giggling like maniacs as they wrench the drawers open one by one, tossing out the few items of clothing that still remained in there before realising that there was, in fact, no underwear left behind.
âI was joking,â you say, âfucking pervs.â
Frenchie chuckles, âCan you blame us, mon amour?â
âYes!â
MM is snickering in the small kitchenette as he picks through the lower cupboards one by one. As much as you want to enjoy the rare light-heartedness within the group right now, you canât stop wondering why the hell they were all in such a giddy mood. Are they all high?
âAlrighâ you lot,â Butcher says, running a hand through his dishevelled hair as his laughter subsides, âstop messinâ about, weâve got a job to do.â
You roll your eyes and trudge toward where MM is, starting on the top cupboards of the small kitchen while they begin opening old crates and suitcases. Frenchie starts a pile by the stairs, stacking up anything he finds that might be useful or too valuable to abandon. There isnât much, but there are still a couple of cases of ammunition and packets of powders that you know are combustible in some way.
âWait!â Frenchie shouts suddenly, crouching beside an electrical socket. âBe careful. Somebody has shorted the wiring, intentionally or not, I do not know, but do not touch the outlets or anything still plugged in.â
You slowly retract your hand from beside the rusty old microwave. âWhat will happen?â
âYou will probably be electrocuted.â
âGood to know,â Butcher sighs.
You all return to your ransacking with cautious hands and watchful eyes, skirting around anything electrical or made of metal. When you approach the refrigerator, you can hear a soft, crackling hum, and MM looks at you with wide eyes. It was never a reliable machine, but now it is most definitely a death trap.
You continue your search through the cupboards, knocking half-full packets of rice and flour off the shelves as you stretch up onto your toes to see inside. This job is probably better suited to someone with more of a height advantage, but youâve always been stubborn, so you donât bother asking for help.
The cupboard above the sink, adjacent to the stove â you always thought it was stupid to put the sink right beside the stove â reveals a cluster of cleaning products. You reach as far as you can, straining your arms to reach the bottles on the top shelf and groaning at the tension in your body.
Behind you, MM mimics the noise, only louder, âUngh.â
You hear Frenchie snicker, âNo, no, it was more like, mmmh.â
Your fingertips scrape the bottle closest to the front of the cupboard and you huff in frustration.
âNngh,â MM groans again.
âAhhh,â Frenchie moans loudly, before dissolving into another fit of giggles.
Determined to ignore them, you try to stretch up even further. Your back aches but your fingers find the bottle once again, scratching at it in an attempt to get it to move.
MM sighs seductively, âOhh, yeah.â
âMmm, Butcher,â Frenchie gasps.
Your stomach drops and you lose your balance, stumbling as you whirl around to face them. âWhat the fuck?â
Frenchie giggles as he meets your stare, âOops.â
The bottle from the top shelf of the cupboard falls forward and knocks your shoulder, popping the cap off. The liquid inside spills all over your chest just as realisation hits you.
âThatâs what all this has been about?!â you exclaim, âyou heard me having a fucking sex dream and instead of waking me up, you listened?â
MM canât stop laughing, with one hand holding his stomach while the other supports his body against the old dining room table. Youâve never seen this man so flustered, and if you werenât so embarrassed, you might have enjoyed seeing him so overwhelmed with laughter.
Frenchie, however, has gone completely pale, stepping forward with a petrified expression. âY/N, listen-â
âNo,â you snap, âI wonât listen! You are such a-â
âY/N!â he shouts, âdo not move.â
The room falls silent and panic ripples through your body.
âPlease, mon amour, stay still,â he pleads as he hurries toward you.
He steps carefully around the puddles on the floor before reaching down to pick up the now empty bottle. He studies the label for less than a second before looking back at you with panicked eyes.
âYou need to take off your jumper, now.â
You frown, âWhat? Why?â
âThis is isopropyl alcohol,â he says, âit is highly flammable. If anything in this place so much as sparks, it will catch fire and if the vapours ignite, this whole building could explode.â
âFuck,â you mutter, looking down at the soaked front of Butcherâs sweater.
Frenchie turns to MM, âGet something, get a bag, and get ready to go.â
You remain still as your pulse quickens, âFrenchie.â
âButcher,â he says, âyou and Kimiko start taking things up the stairs, do not come over here.â
Butcher frowns, âLike hell Iâm leavinâ her.â
âFrenchie,â you repeat.
âI will get her out, okay? Just take what weâve got and letâs get out.â
âI donât give a fuck about this crap,â Butcher argues, âI care about her, and Iâm not leavinâ âtil I know sheâs safe.â
âFrenchie!â you exclaim, âIâm not wearing anything underneath.â
The room falls quiet once again, and you can feel blood rushing to your cheeks as each of them turn to you with curious eyes.
âNothinâ?â Butcher asks, fighting the smirk tugging at his lips.
âNothing,â you reply.
Despite the situation, Frenchie is the first to snicker.
âCome âere,â Butcher says, âslowly.â
You step carefully out of the kitchen, avoiding every surface as your boots squelch against the wet floor. Once youâre in front of him, he shrugs off his coat and gestures for you to remove the sweater. Your heart pounds as you turn your back to him, and he holds his jacket up to shield you, though not quite high enough to block his own view. You hold your breath and pull the sweater up, squeezing your eyes shut as it slips over your head. You can feel his breath on your back as soon as itâs bare, and a whole different kind of heat rushes through you.
He drops his coat around your shoulders and you quickly hug it against your chest. His scent envelops you, even more so than it had with the sweater, and your nerves begin to ease almost immediately.
âGive it to me,â Frenchie says, holding a plastic bag open toward you.
You drop the sweater in and he ties it off.
âLetâs go.â
MM, Kimiko, and Butcher grab what they can before you all ascend the stairs. You hurry through the corridor and out into the alley, not stopping until youâre all safe inside the car.
âDid you get any on your pants, mon amour?â Frenchie asks.
You push the bottom of Butcherâs jacket off your legs to inspect. âOnly a little.â
âIt will not damage the clothing, but we should wash everything right away.â
You nod before glancing toward Butcher. His face is a mixture of concern and mischief, his eyes struggling to watch the road instead of you, sitting beside him and wrapped in his favourite coat.
âShould we tell someone about that situation back there?â MM pipes up.
âI will call somebody to clean it up,â Frenchie replies.
It isnât long before youâre all quietly climbing out of the car and carrying your finds up to the apartment. Everyone kicks their shoes off at the door, per Frenchieâs instructions, and begins sorting through the bags and boxes of old materials and equipment.
Frenchie turns to you, âGive me your jeans.â
âRight now?â
He nods and you sigh, deciding not to argue. You turn away from them and open the coat, quickly unbuttoning your jeans and slipping them off before wrapping yourself back up. When you turn back around, heâs adorning that same silly grin that heâd been wearing all morning.
âIs this how it started in your dream?â
You roll your eyes and shove your jeans into his outstretched hand. âJust because you kind of saved my life, doesnât mean Iâm not still annoyed at you.â
He giggles as he takes your clothes and walks down the hall to the laundry.
âIn his defence,â Butcher smirks, âI told âem not to wake you.â
âYou what?â
He steps toward you and shrugs, âI liked hearinâ those pretty little noises you were makinâ.â
The butterflies in your stomach burst to life and your pulse begins to race.
He leans forward as he whispers, âLiked it a little too much.â
You suddenly remember what Frenchie had said this morning when you asked where Butcher was: âMonsieur Charcutier had to excuse himselfâ.
âNow,â Butcher clears his throat, âyou gonâa give me my coat back before you spill somethinâ else on it?â
You raise your brows, âYou want it back right now? Right here?â
He glances over his shoulder toward MM and Kimiko before turning back to you, âMaybe not righâ here.â
You step around him and walk through the kitchen toward the main bedroom, avoiding MMâs eyes as you pass the dining room table. You donât bother closing the doors behind you, because sure enough, a pair of heavy footsteps follow closely behind. The door clicks shut and you turn around to look at Butcher. You let your eyes wander over his body, your mouth watering as you follow the collar of his shirt down his bare chest where the top buttons lay open.
âIâm not gonâa lie,â he says, his hungry gaze pinning you to the floor, âas much as I fuckinâ loved hearinâ you whisper my name⊠I canât wait to make you scream it.â
His words punch you in the chest, knocking all the air from your legs as heat pools between your legs.
âNow, love,â he steps forward, âcan I âave my coat back?â
Your fingers tremble as you grip the lapels of the jacket, moving your shoulders so the material falls off before you open it up and let it drop to the floor. He draws one sharp breath, his eyes growing wide as they move up and down your body, devouring every inch of it as if heâs never seen anything so perfect.
He closes the distance between you and wraps his hands around your waist, fingertips digging into the flesh of your back with bruising pressure.
âDâyou know how hard I came to the thought of you this morning?â he murmurs.
You canât do anything but stare back at him, your lips aching to taste him, all of him.
âSo fuckinâ hard,â he whispers before capturing your mouth with his.
You moan as you melt against him, your arms wrapping around his neck and your fingers tangling through his hair as he claims your mouth. His hands squeeze your waist and pull you closer, pressing your naked body against him. The friction of his shirt against your nipples makes you gasp, and he takes advantage of your open mouth, sliding his tongue past your lips.
âCanât fuckinâ imagine,â he mumbles against your mouth, âhow hard Iâm gonâa come with you on my cock.â
The ball of tension throbbing below your stomach explodes, and you use all of your strength to push him back toward the bed. He chuckles as he falls back, his hand catching your wrist to pull you down on top of him.
âTell me âbout your dream, love,â he says as you hover over him, âwhere was I?â
You plant an open-mouthed kiss on his collarbone before biting down and making him groan.
âYou were everywhere,â you whisper against his skin, âmarking me, claiming me.â
He moans again as you grind your hips down, the friction of his jeans sending jolts of pleasure up your spine.
âI donât fuckinâ need to claim you,â he growls, his hands holding your hips as he thrusts up, âyouâre already mine.â
He lifts you up enough to flip you onto your back, his body moving with yours and settling between your legs as he hovers over you. He dips down, his lips finding your neck and sucking on the sensitive skin before biting down hard. You moan loudly, and quickly smack a hand over your mouth to muffle the noise.
âI donât think so, love,â he murmurs, taking your hand and pinning it to the bed, âI said, I wanâa hear you fuckinâ scream.â
END.
#billy butcher#billy butcher x reader#butcher x reader#karl urban#the boys#homelander#hughie campbell#frenchie#mm#mothers milk#the female#kimiko#karl urban x reader#fanfic#fanfiction#one shot#oneshot
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i'll give you one more time
part 2 to she's begging you to stay stay
Matty Healy + preteen!lost!daughter!OFC!r
warnings: idek yall, language i think, dead mom, slightly shitty dad, this isn't even my usual angst this shit is just SAD, r is twelve
a/n: long awaited part 2! enjoy!
The ride home was a heavy, suffocating silence, the kind that pressed down on your chest and made it hard to breathe. Every ounce of your willpower was spent keeping the tears from spilling over, your eyes stinging as you stared blankly out the window. You couldnât even begin to comprehend why youâd acted the way you did. Yes, times were tough, and you were teetering on the edge mentally, but surely there were other waysâbetter waysâyou couldâve handled things. Yet, none of that mattered now. The only thing consuming your thoughts was how Matty would react when the two of you finally walked through that door.
The day had dragged on, filled with more emotion and exhaustion than either of you could have anticipated. Matty knew that a conversation was inevitable, that you both needed to talkâreally talkâbut as he glanced at you, he realized now wasnât the right time.Â
You were a mess, physically and emotionally. Your hair was tangled, matted with dirt from your adventure on the London streets, and your clothes were no better, stained and disheveled from the dayâs events. It was clear that you were drained, the weight of everything youâd been through etched into your weary features.
Matty sighed, feeling a pang of guilt for what youâd endured, but also a deep sense of protectiveness. He wanted to fix everything, to make it all better, but he knew that right now, the best thing he could do was to give you a chance to breathe, to decompress. The conversation could waitâtonight, what mattered was getting you cleaned up and comfortable.
The silence between you became too much to bear. Matty gently placed a hand on your shoulder, stopping you before you could head inside. âHey,â he said softly, his voice cutting through the quiet. âIâm not mad, okay?â
You stopped in your tracks, turning to face him, your eyes clouded with guilt and confusion. âI ran away, Matty. I scared the shit out of youââ
âYeah, well, youâre safe now. Thatâs all I care about, okay?â he interrupted, his tone firm but laced with concern.
You shook your head, frustration bubbling up inside you. âYou should be angry.â
âIâm notââ
âYou should be yelling at me, kicking me out of your house, something!â The words spilled out before you could stop them, along with the tears in your eyes, the rawness of your emotions catching both of you off guard.
Mattyâs expression softened, a mix of sadness and disbelief crossing his face. âWhat makes you think I would do that?â
âI donât know,â you mumbled, your voice cracking as you tried to hold back tears. âI just⊠I donât know.â
Matty sighed, stepping closer and gently tilting your chin up so youâd meet his gaze. âListen to me, Tilly. Iâm not going to kick you out, and Iâm not going to yell at you. Iâm just glad youâre here, that youâre safe. Weâll talk about everything, but not right now. Right now, I just want you to take care of yourself, okay?â
âGo take a shower,â Matty said softly, his thumb brushing a stray tear from your cheek. âGet some rest. Weâll figure everything out later.â
You hesitated, the weight of the day pressing down on you, but finally, you nodded. The fight had drained out of you, replaced by a deep exhaustion that made it hard to argue anymore.
 You looked up at him, eyes heavy with exhaustion, and nodded without argument. There was no energy left to resist, no fight left in you for tonight. The promise of a hot shower and a bed was all you needed.
Matty watched as you trudged upstairs, each step slower than the last, and he felt a knot of worry tighten in his chest. He wanted to say something, to offer comfort or reassurance, but the words wouldnât come. Instead, he silently vowed to be there for you when you were ready to talk, whenever that might be. As you disappeared down the hallway, Matty lingered for a moment, running a hand through his hair. The house was quiet now, the kind of quiet that felt heavy, like it was waiting for something to happen. But for now, he decided, it was enough to let you find some peace, even if only for a little while. He made his way to the living room, sinking into the couch with a weary sigh. The day had taken its toll on him too, but his thoughts were with you. They always were. The sun was setting outside, casting long shadows through the windows, and Matty closed his eyes for a moment, letting the quiet of the house wash over him. Tomorrow would bring its own challenges, but tonight, all that mattered to him was that you were home and safe.
â-------
Youâre asleep, lost in a dreamless world where the weight of reality has, for a moment, lifted. As your father started the trek back to his room, he noticed the light peaking through the crack beneath your door, to him, indicating you were awake. He let out a soft sigh and took a detourour to your room. He knocked, âMatilda.â You donât stir. Your name, the one your mother gave you, is still new on his tongue even after all this time, as if heâs trying to make sense of it, to make it his own. Thereâs a slight pause, and then he speaks again, his voice lower, softer. âMatilda George. Itâs late, you should go to bed.â
Thereâs no response, only the sound of your steady breathing as you lie curled under the covers, the peaceful rise and fall of your chest the only movement in the room. Matty hesitates at the door, the silence stretching out between you. Finally, with a sigh, he pushes the door open wider. âIâm coming in.â
The door creaks open, and a soft, golden light spills into your room, touching the edges of your bed. His footsteps are careful, almost hesitant, as he crosses the threshold into your room. He stands there for a moment, just watching you sleep, his expression unreadable in the dim light. Youâre completely unaware, lost in the depths of slumber, oblivious to the fact that heâs here, that heâs looking at you with something akin to longing.
And then his gaze shifts, catching on something beside youâyour diary, lying open on the bed. He hadnât meant to look, but the way the pages fall open, revealing your handwriting, draws his eyes. Curiosity tugs at him, and before he can think better of it, he reaches down, picking it up.
His eyes scan the words youâve written, the pages filled with all the things youâve been too scared or unsure to say out loud. The confusion, the loneliness, the raw ache of trying to understand who he is to you and who youâre supposed to be now. He reads on, the lines blurring together, each word a glimpse into the parts of you that youâve kept hidden away.
I used to keep track of how many days it had been since I last saw my mother. In the very beginning, I would count down to the exact hourâsometimes even the minute. Iâm not sure why I did it. Maybe it was a way to cope with my anxiety. I think I was just measuring the time until I thought my world would blow up again.
I never stop thinking about my mom. I could be laughing and having a nice conversation, and then, all of a sudden, a dark gray cloud comes and blocks my happiness. A part of me doesnât want it to stop, though, because Iâm scared Iâll forget her. In my mind, the day I go a whole 24 hours without thinking of my mom is the day I will have moved on. And I donât want to move on. Miss Julia asked me the other day, âIf you could reverse the cancer and see your mom again, would you?â I replied, âObviously.â Then she said, âEven though you wouldnât have Matty?â I didnât answer.
Overall, I think thatâs a harsh question for a twelve-year-old, but whatever. I know sheâs right, though. Maybe I wouldnât reverse it.
My mom was in unspeakable painâpain that I canât even begin to understand, pain that I hope I will never experience. Iâm not sure where she is now, but I like to think itâs somewhere nice, somewhere sheâs at peace. One thing I do know for certain is that she isnât in pain anymore. Sheâs free. If I were to reverse things, I would be taking that freedom away from her. I would be calling her back to her pain.
I have a lot of realizations in that small office with Miss Julia. After that session, I realized that with all my thinking about how things could be or could have been, I have yet to fantasize about how life could have been if Matty had been there from the beginning. If he knew about me. If he had been my father from the start.
I donât understand why my mother didnât tell me about my father, or why she never told him about my existence. Iâm pretty sure it wasnât because she wanted to âprotect meâ. Heâs not that bad. Heâs kind. He makes me laugh from time to time. I enjoy his music, but I would never outright admit that to him. If it wasnât for him being my literal father, Iâd say we could be twins. But still, she never said a word to him.
I know itâs not because she was ashamed and tried to keep me a secret, but that thought always crosses my mind whether I like it or not.
I know very well that I said I didnât want to go home with him, and even after I agreed, I promised I would find somewhere else to stay. And he was fine with it. As long as he knew I was safe. The truth is, I canât imagine growing up anywhere else. I donât think I want to.
I want to be with my father. I want to call him âDadâ. I want him to know that I love and care for him, but Iâm too terrified to. Iâm also scared that if God forbid, something terrible happens, he will never know how much I love him. Because I donât think I said that nearly enough to my mom.
I donât know how to tell him. I donât know how to help him. I have six years left before Iâm an adult. He would have to agree to raise me for six years. That could either go really bad or good. I donât see an in-between.
Iâve played it out in my mind. I will either get exactly what I want or nothing at all. Iâm too scared to ask, to tell him that I care, so Iâll just stay silent for now. Because truthfully, I have not a single clue how to do this.
Matty read every single word of your last entry, his eyes tracing each line as if they were the most precious secrets. What struck him the hardest was the realization that if someone could peek inside his brain, take out his thoughts, and lay them side by side with yours, they would be almost indistinguishably similar. That comment about being like twins? It wasnât far off. And every day, he was noticing it more and more.
He knew it was wrong to be reading your diary, an invasion of privacy he had no excuse for. But he couldnât stop. He was too caught up, too addicted to the patterns of your mindâpatterns that were so familiar because they mirrored his own. The pull was irresistible, like seeing a reflection of himself in your words, understanding you in a way that felt both thrilling and terrifying.
He was so engrossed in his re-reading that he didnât notice you stir or open your eyes. When you finally took in the sight of him with your diary in hand, you froze, then rolled your eyes. âReading my diary, are we?â you mumbled, your drowsy state adding a touch of comedy to the tension.
Matty jumped, startled by your voice, and hurriedly closed the book, pushing it aside. âI thought you were asleep!â he stammered, his guilt obvious.
âAnd I thought the cardinal rule of diaries was that no one else is supposed to read them?â you continued, a sly smile tugging at your lips.
He shook his head, trying to backpedal. âI didnât read itâI swear.â
âYeah, you did,â you shot back, the sly smile now full-blown.
âYes, I did,â he admitted, not missing a beat, the look of defeat settling on his features. âIâm sorry.â
You looked down wearily, adjusting yourself as the weight of the moment settled in. Matty, still feeling the need to say something, continued, âI didnât know you were a writer.â
âIâm not,â you replied simply.
Matty scoffed, shaking his head. âI donât see many twelve-year-olds putting out words like this.â
You rolled your eyes, brushing off the compliment. âIâm not putting them âout.â Iâm putting them in a three-dollar notebook I got at the grocery store.â
He shrugged, not willing to let it go. âTheyâre good nonetheless.â
You offered him a weary, tight-lipped smile, the kind that said you were too tired to argue but appreciated the sentiment. Mattyâs tone softened, almost a whisper. âSit up for a second.â
Your eyes changed, a flicker of panic flashing as you realized he had actually read everything you wroteâall of it. You hesitated, your heart racing. âYou said it was time for bed.â
âThis will only take a second.â His voice was gentle but insistent. After a weary pause, you sat up, looking at him with guarded eyes. He took your hands in his, the gesture tender as he pressed a soft kiss to your temple, then looked at you, his expression serious. âYou donât have to go anywhere, Matilda.â
For a moment, the room was silent. Youâd been waiting for this conversation for months, but you never expected it to happen now, like this. âYes, I do,â you said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.
âWhere?â he asked, his tone laced with concern.
âSomewhere where Iâm not in your way.â You slowly pulled your hands from his grasp, the distance between you growing in that small action.
âYouâre not in my way, my love,â he said softly, trying to reassure you.
âI could be. I will be,â you insisted, your voice trembling slightly.
âNo, you wonât,â he said, a bit more firmly this time.
âYou donât know that,â you whispered, doubt creeping in.
âIf youâre anything like meâand you are, whether you like it or notâweâll have some challenges,â Matty admitted, his voice thick with emotion. âBut Iâve wasted so much timeâŠand missed out on so many things over the last twelve years, Tilly. Iâll be damned if I miss one more.â
The words hung in the air between you, heavy with the weight of everything left unsaid.
You looked at him, searching his eyes for any hint of uncertainty, but all you saw was a sincerity that made your chest tighten. It was overwhelming, the idea that someone could care about you this much, could want you around despite everything.
His expression softened even more, a sadness flickering behind his eyes. âYouâre not a burden, Matilda. You never were, and you never will be. I want you here, with me. I need you here.â It was almost as if he was reading your mind.
You bit your lip, trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill over. âBut what if I mess up? What if I make things harder?â
Matty shook his head, squeezing your hands gently. âThen weâll figure it out together. Iâm not going to let anything get in the way now. Not even your doubts.â You felt a tear slip down your cheek, but for once, it wasnât out of fear or sadness. It was a relief. Matty reached out and wiped the tear away, his touch gentle, like he was afraid you might break. âYouâre stuck with me, babe. I donât know what to tell you.â He said, lips pulling into a smile.
At that moment, something shifted between you, an unspoken understanding that you were no longer just two people navigating this confusing, painful world. You were a teamâa family, bound together by something far stronger than blood or circumstance. It was love, pure and simple, and it was enough.
You leaned into him, letting your head rest on his shoulder as he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close. For the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe things could be okay, that maybe you could find a way to be happy, despite everything.
And as you sat there in the quiet, the weight of the world lifting just a little, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you wouldnât have to face them alone.Â
You had your dad, and he had you.
#woahhhh okay#the 1975#x daughter!reader#matty healy#matty healy x reader#matty healy x daughter!reader#matty the 1975#matty x reader
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Ghosts in the code
Paring - ben drowned x female reader
Synopsis - reader dies on a mission, in ben's grief he makes her in the digtal realm to cope.
Trigger warnings: death, shooting, guns, blood, grief, i think that's all but its super sad so be warned??
Word count - 2.1K
Authorâs note - so I woke up at 7:45am and decided to finally write this damn story, I had made it in the draft but never completed it. I thought, huh theyâve had too much fluff and to much Jeff the killer. Soo I hope you guys like being emotionally traumatized this early in the morning <3
It was supposed to be an easy mission. Jack was off to find his next meal, and (Y/N) just had to make a target disappearâanother loose end tied up. She couldâve handled it alone, but Jack insisted on tagging along. And Ben, always the overprotective one, had been unusually tense, practically forcing her to let him come. That last mission had shaken him. He hadnât been able to let go of how close sheâd come to dying.
"Jesus Christ, Ben, Iâll be fine," (Y/N) snapped, stuffing long sleeves into her bag, her irritation spilling over.
Ben hovered near her, eyes clouded with worry that he couldnât hide, no matter how hard he tried. He wasnât his usual laid-back selfânot this time. "You almost got yourself killed last time, (Y/N). This isn't something to brush off," he muttered, his voice low and laced with concern.
She rolled her eyes, zipping up her bag. "I know. But I can handle this. I donât need you breathing down my neck." She sighed, softening a bit as she saw the tension in his face. "Iâll be back in no time. I love you, okay?"
But Ben didnât respond. He just stared at her for a long moment, his face hard, jaw clenched. Without a word, he turned and walked out of the room. The door shut softly behind him, but it felt like a wall slamming down between them.
(Y/N) exhaled, the weight of his silence settling on her. She hadnât meant to fight with him before leaving, but it always seemed to end like this when it came to her missions. Shrugging it off, she grabbed her bag and headed out with Jack.
The house was old, creaky, the kind that seemed to breathe with the wind. The floorboards groaned beneath her boots as she crept down the dimly lit hallway, gripping her knife tightly. The air was thick with tension, heavy with the kind of silence that made every noise echo louder than it should. She was looking for a blue door. Inside, a scared twenty-year-old kid was hiding, a witness whoâd seen too muchâa fleeting glimpse of the mansionâs dark secrets.
It was routine. Sheâd done this a thousand times before, but something felt off. Her skin prickled with unease as she approached the door, the silence pressing down on her like a weight. Then, a screamâlow, gutturalâpierced the air. The door flew open with a crash, and she froze.
The kid stood there, trembling, his wild eyes locked onto hers. In his hands was a shotgun, shaking as violently as he was. Fear twisted his features, but before she could react, he pulled the trigger.
The blast was deafening. In that moment, time seemed to slow, her world narrowing to the sound of the explosion and the searing pain that followed. It hit her square in the chest, a force so strong it knocked her off her feet, her body crashing into the floor.
Her back slammed against the hardwood with a sickening thud, but it was the burning that consumed her. The heat spread through her chest like wildfire, every nerve screaming in agony. She gasped, choking on the blood that filled her lungs, her breath coming in shallow, ragged bursts. The room spun, her vision blurring as the pain became unbearable.
All she could think about was Ben. His stupid, overprotective warnings. He had been right. He had been fucking right, and she never told him. He didnât even say âI love youâ back.
Tears welled in her eyes as she coughed, blood sputtering from her lips. The taste of iron coated her mouth as her hands clawed at the floor, trying to grasp onto somethingâanything. But she was slipping, fast. Her vision grew darker, the ringing in her ears louder, drowning out everything else. Benâs face flickered in her mind, that crooked smile, the way he laughed when he beat her at video games, the warmth in his touch when he wasnât being so damn stubborn.
A final breath rattled in her chest, and everything went black.
Jack pushed through the wet forest, his steps heavy and labored, (Y/N)'s limp body cradled in his arms. His hands were slick with blood, her blood, the smell thick in the cold air. He moved as quickly as he could, but her weight, combined with the dread gnawing at his gut, slowed him down. He knewâhe could feel itâthat this wasnât just another injury. This was different. Worse. The kind of wound you didnât walk away from.
Her pulse was barely there, faint and fluttering, like it was already halfway to giving up. Her skin had turned ghostly pale, and the blood, it just wouldnât stop. It soaked into his clothes, warm and sticky, every step leaving a trail of red behind them. The mansion wasnât far, but it felt like miles, and with every step, Jackâs fear grew.
He burst through the mansion doors, frantic, his voice hoarse as he shouted for help.
Jeff and Ben were on the couch, immersed in a game of Mario Kart. Ben, still brooding from their earlier fight, didnât even look up. His anger kept him rooted to his seat, eyes fixed on the screen.
But Jeffâs gaze drifted to the hallway, to the trail of blood that smeared the floorboards. The sight made him drop his controller, his face twisting in confusion and horror as he followed the crimson path to where Jack stood, soaked in it.
"BenâŠ" Jeffâs voice was tight, like he already knew what was coming. Ben ignored him at first, too wrapped up in his frustration to care. But when he finally turned, his blood ran cold.
(Y/N) lay cradled in Jackâs arms, her shirt torn open, exposing the gruesome mess of her chest. Buckshot wounds peppered her torso, blood oozing from every gash. Her chest barely rose, barely fell, and her faceâoh god, her face. She was so pale. Too pale.
Ben stumbled forward, his legs weak beneath him, until he collapsed at her side. "No. No, no, no, no, no!" His voice cracked, raw with panic and disbelief. He reached for her handâher hand that had once been so warm, so full of life. Now, it was cold, stiffening with every passing second. His fingers curled around hers, squeezing, as if he could force life back into her with sheer will.
"Jack, what the fuck happened?! You had one job, one fucking job! You were supposed to keep her safe!" His voice rose, laced with fury and heartbreak. But there was no answer. Jack stood frozen, guilt etched in every line of his face.
Benâs anger melted into desperation as he cupped her face, brushing her blood-matted hair back, pressing frantic kisses to her forehead, her cheeks, her lipsâanywhere he could. "Please, donât do this," he whispered, his voice shaking. "Iâm sorry. Iâm sorry for everything. I love you, justâplease. Donât leave me. Donât leave me, (Y/N)."
But her chest had stopped moving. Her pulse had gone. (Y/N) was gone.
She died wrapped in Benâs arms that night, her body slack against him as the life drained from her. He held her tighter than he ever had, as if he could somehow hold her soul in his embrace, keep her from slipping away. But there was nothing left to hold onto. Jeff and Toby had to pull him off her, restrain him as he screamed her name, his voice raw and broken. He fought against them, desperate to stay with her, but they carried her body out. The Operator spoke of capturing her soul, of preserving her somehow, but the words were meaningless to Ben. Ben had spent countless days and sleepless nights locked away in his dimly lit room, the walls closing in around him as the weight of his grief pressed heavily on his chest. The world outside felt like a distant memory, a place where laughter echoed and sunlight broke through the darknessâa world that no longer existed for him. Instead, he found himself drowning in a sea of despair, surrounded by his computer screens, each one a window to a digital realm that was both a refuge and a prison.
He scoured the internet obsessively, combing through files, piecing together fragments of code like a mad scientist trying to resurrect the dead. Hours turned into days as he meticulously recorded long sessions of every proxyâs voiceâvoices that had once brought him comfort now echoed with haunting reminders of what he had lost. He captured every laugh, every snarky remark, every heartfelt confession, determined to weave them into the fabric of his creation. It had to be perfect. It had to feel real.
The others in the mansion watched him with a mix of concern and resignation. They agreed to his demands, knowing he was lost in his pain, hoping that his obsession might bring him some semblance of peace. But Ben wasnât looking for peace; he was searching for a way to bring (Y/N) back. He wanted to trap her essence in this digital world, to create a sanctuary where she would never leave him again.
The night finally came when he felt ready. With trembling hands, he slipped the cartridge into the console, his heart racing as the screen flickered to life, illuminating the room with a soft glow. The title appeared, its letters swirling in hues of blue and green, memories end. He pressed play, and the familiar loading screen unfolded before him, sending him spiraling into the depths of his creation.
As he traversed the digital halls of the mansion, a sense of anticipation mixed with dread washed over him. Every pixel, every shadow had been crafted with care, echoing the real place they had shared so many moments. It was both exhilarating and gut-wrenching to see her face againâher features rendered flawlessly, as if she were just a breath away.
Then, he entered his bedroom, and there she was, standing in the center of the room, bathed in the soft glow of the digital light. His heart raced, a wild mixture of hope and anguish surging through him as her voice filled the air. âBen, I have to go on my mission today. Donât be mad, please.â
The sound of her voice pierced through the haze of his grief, and he felt a fresh wave of tears stinging his eyes. It was herâhis (Y/N)âand yet, she wasnât really there. This was a simulacrum, a mere imitation of the vibrant person he loved. He plastered on a smile, forcing himself to believe in the illusion, even as his heart ached with the reality of her absence.
âOf course, I could never be angry with you,â he said, his voice catching in his throat as he stepped closer. He reached out, gently brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear, the familiar motion bringing a warmth to his chest that he had thought lost forever. But as his fingers met her cool, pixelated skin, a rush of sorrow flooded him.
This wasnât real. She wasnât real. She was just a ghost, a whisper of what had once been. The weight of his actions crashed over him like a tidal wave; he had trapped her in a prison of his making, and for all his effort, he was still utterly alone.
âBen, are you okay?â she asked, her eyes wide with concernâso genuine, so achingly familiar. But he could only nod, fighting to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over. âIâll be back soon,â she continued, that same playful smile he had loved so much lighting up her face.
And yet, the more she spoke, the more he felt the chasm of loss stretching between them. Each word was a reminder that no matter how perfect this world was, it could never replace the warmth of her laughter, the touch of her hand, the way she had always known how to pull him out of the darkness.
âJust be careful,â he whispered, his voice breaking, a crack in the facade he had built. She smiled at him, and for a fleeting moment, the ache of his heart softened. But as he gazed into her eyes, he realized the painful truth no matter how many times he played this game, no matter how much he crafted her voice and presence, it would never fill the void left by her absence.
#creative writing#creepypasta#horror#slenderverse#writers on tumblr#jeff the killer#eyeless jack#ben drowned#ben drowned headcanons#glitch#legend of zelda#benjamin lawman#angst#sad writing#Spotify#creepypasta x reader#roleplay#creepypasta ben drowned#majoras mask#jeff the killer x reader#jeffrey woods#jack nyras#canabalism#homicidal liu#creepy pasta#creepypasta x y/n#creepypasta x female reader#creepypasta x you#creepypasta characters
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Hola amor!
A fluffy request about the reader (idk what nationality, I'll let you choose) tryna learn spanish for Gavi, but what he didn't know was you're starting to master it. So maybe one day you surprised him by suddenly speaking fluently in Spanish. Hehe I got inspired by this girl I saw on tiktok, the boy's reaction was priceless! Haha and I was also learning Spanish too. Gracias!
Doing this with đ”đč nationalityđ THANKS FOR THE REQUEST, LET ME KNOW IF YOU LIKED IT AND SORRY FOR THE LATENESSđ I've been so busy latelyđ
Also, fic celebration for the 700 followers... I still can't believe it. Thank youđ„čđ«¶đŒ
Una Experta -P.G
Summary: You surprise your boyfriend by showing your skills in Spanish
"Come on, mi amor. It's easy" Your boyfriend of a year and half said softly
"I know it is, I just can't get a hold of it sometimes, Pabs!" You exclaimed a bit frustrated whenever your tongue didn't connected with your mind whenever you had to speak Spanish and yelled when you burned your hand with the heating pan "NĂŁo foda! Essa merda Ă© quente. Vou ficar com uma chaga tremenda e bem na palma da mĂŁo!" (Fuck! That shit is hot. I'm going to have a tremendous sore right on the palm of my hand!)
"Amor, be careful!" Pablo said inmediately grabbing your burned hand and the other on your waist guiding you towards the sink and bringing your hand under the cold water as you hissed from the temperature change "Lo siento"
"It's fine" You hissed when his fingers carressed your burned palm "Amor"
"Sorry, mi vida" He kissed your cheek as you let out a few tears of both, pain and frustration. He let you quickly to grab the ice pack and came back putting it in your hand "Let's go to the bedroom, amorcito" He kissed your cheek again and dried your tears with his hand, guiding the two of you upstairs.
He took off his shirt and got to the bathroom to grab the medical kit, you sat on his side of the bed and watched him come back to you ready to take care of your burn.
After he was done, he left a kiss on it and left a kiss on your lips as well, before getting you inside the covers, he putted away the things he used and turned the TV on, getting under the covers with you in his arms.
"Amor" He said softly after a while "I love the effort you are doing in learning my language but don't stress too much because of it, okay?" He said against your hair "I love you too much and I don't want you sad or mad about it. You will eventually do it at perfection, I know it. Spanish isn't easy and we just gotta keep trying" You smiled softly. "Like, I barely know three words in Portuguese and still I am trying" You laughed
He was so cute and he was-is, so yours.
But the thing on this is... You already knew Spanish and were trying to perfection it, Pablo though doesn't know that, how did you communicated with someone before him? Yes, with broken Spanish and lots of English.
But it doesn't help the fact that you confuse Spanish words with your native words, since some of them sounded and were the same. It was a bit hard processing it and your mind sometimes shortcircuited because of it.
"I know, mi amor" You said kissing his naked chest "I know, I just-" You sigh "Wanna be able to communicate with you in your native languague. I know how hard is English for you sometimes" He smiles softly
"I can handle that" You giggled "However, Portuguese is really hard and I'm still trying, mi linda"
"I know you do and I'm proud of you for it" You smile "AlĂ©m disso, vocĂȘ fala muito fofo em portuguĂȘs, seu sotaque sevilhano soa muito pesado com isso. Eu amo isso" (Besides, your way too cute talking in Portuguese, your Sevillan accent sounds way too heavy with it. I love it)
"ÂżAh? You said Love, right? You said love" He confirmed as you giggle "I hope you said you love me because I love you too" You smile nodding and gave him a kiss on his cheek when his phone dinged and he grabbed it showing you, proudly, his lockscreen.
A picture of the two of you appeared and you smiled hiding your face into his neck "Nos vemos lindos" (We look pretty)
"Of course we do" He buffed as you shook your head rolling your eyes secretly loving his confidence. "It seems like we've got some company in five days"
"Who?"
"Your suegros" He winked and you blushed
"They'll be staying?" You ask smiling as he nods
"Two days" You sigh softly
"Gotta tidy up the guest room tomorrow then"
"I'll help you, amorcito. Don't worry"
...
"¿Y Pablo?" (And Pablo?) Belén asked as you chatted with her meanwhile el señor Pablo, her husband, showered.
"Ha salido a hacer unas compras de Ășltimo minuto. Mañana quisiera hacer su platillo familiar, que me has dado la receta pero no habĂa podido ponerla en prueba" (He went out to do some grocery shopping of last minute. I wanna do your family dish tomorrow, you gave me the recipe but I couldn't put it on test) She laughed "Y bueno... Que mejor situaciĂłn, que ustedes estĂ©n aquĂ" (And well... What better situation than you guys being here) She let out a little aw and you blushed
"Es bastante sencilla, nada de que preocuparse, ÂżEh?" (It's pretty simple, nothing you had to worry about) She smiled "Eres muy buena cocinera, de seguro te queda exquisito, pero si quieres te puedo ayudar" (You're a really good cooker, I'm sure it will be delicious, if you want I can help you out)
"No te molestes, ustedes son los invitados. Tendré que poner a Pablito que me ayude con la ensalada" (Don't worry about it, you are the guests. I will have to make Pablo help me out with the salad) You both laughed
"Que la va a incendiar, estoy segura" (He'll make it fire, I'm sure of it)
"No, que va. Ha mejorado bastante en sus skills de cocina. Esperemos que no me deje en ridĂculo luego de haberle defendido si se llega a cortar en lo mĂĄs mĂnimo" (No, he won't. He has gotten a lot better in his cooking skills. Let's just hope he doesn't leave me ridiculous after defending him, if he gets to cut himself at least a little) BelĂ©n laughed as you smiled when you felt someone gasp.
You turn around and see Pablo with the bag of grocery in his hands
"You're speaking Spanish? Perfectly?"
"How long have you been standing there?"
"Long enough to hear your pretty voice speaking my languague fluently!" He exclaimed and almost let the bag fell to the floor if you hadn't grabbed it before. "ÂĄAMOR!" He yelled with a smile on his face "Say it again!"
"¿El qué?" (The what?)
"¥Joder, hostias! ¥Lo estås haciendo!" (Fucking hell! You're doing it!) Belén and you were full on laughing
"Pablo, para" Belén asked (stop)
"I won't, mamĂĄ! She's speaking Spanish! That sounded so hot, you don't know how turned on that made me" He told you and you blushed rainbow colors. His mom was sat in front of you.
"ÂĄHey! Your mom's here!"
"She knows we do those stuffs, right mom?" BelĂ©n smiled shaking her head in disbelief "Mi amorcito hermoso, I'm truly happy for you!" He picked you up as you laughed hugging him by his shoulders "But... ÂżDesde hace cuĂĄnto sabes Español? ÂżY por quĂ© no me habĂas dicho?" (Since when you speak Spanish? And why you haven't told me that?)
"Surprise?" He smiled shaking his head
"Necesito urgentemente ponerme en clases de Portugués, no me puedo quedar atrås" (I need urgently to take Portuguese classes, I can't be left behind) You and Belén laughed.
"You will not, amor" He smiled and high fived you, intertwining your hands in the end
"Just like I will not let you down tomorrow with the salad, mi experta en español"
°°° °°° °°° °°°
Taglist: @gaviypedrisbride @stuckinaf4nfiction @elijahslover @azzpenswrld
#M. is writing#fc barcelona#fc barca#pablo gavi#gavi#pablo gavi x reader#pablo gavi icons#pablo gavi fanfic#pablo gavi one shot#pablo gavi imagine#pablo gavi x y/n#pablo gavi x you#pablo gavi blurb#pablo gavi angst#pablo gavi fluff#gavi x reader#gavi x you#gavi x yn#gavi imagine#gavi icons#gavi fluff#gavi angst#gavi blurb#gavi smut#pablo gavi smut#this doesn't contain smut but still for the tags :)#pablo martin pĂĄez gavira#football players#gavi x reader smut#pablo gavi x reader smut
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â”*áŽáŽáŽáŽÉŽáŽÉȘáŽđ€
Vocab:
(n.) Metanoia - the journey of changing one's mind, heart, self, or way of life, spiritual conversion.
Rs: Tenko Shimura x Mom!reader
Warnings:
angst, bittersweet ending,
traumatized Tenko, scratching,
foreshadowing of death but it's caused by old age
summary: You, someone who doesn't stand out too well with sort of a decent job come across a damaged boy. You take him in your care, watching him grow as you forget you were growing too.
wc: 1.7k
A/N: there's a lot of fluff here guys dw it's just the thought of it that makes it nostalgic and sad.
Suggested song:
The sky was covered in dark clouds, light rain pouring down on the dampened streets, street lamps dimly illuminating the umbrellas of passerbys. The air seemed so grim and so blue, not a lot of people were outside.
You were in your early thirties and you had a casual job, nothing too special with high-income or low-income; to be frank, you were a nurse. You were walking down the sidewalk from work, light rain drops dribbling and rolling off your umbrella, heavy steps of your boots filling up the thick silence in the air.
You were never too outgoing or very quiet either. Neither did you stand out. In the world full of people with superpowers, you were simply in the background.
Your quirk wasn't very too extravagant either. Your ability to control one's circulatory system didn't seem to be very useful out in the hero world, so you just figured it'd be best to stick to the normal life. It wasn't really like you wanted to be one anyway. You realized being a hero can be a lot on a person when you were nine, thinking long and hard about it.
Your thoughts and feet quickly come to a stop at the same time, faintly hearing a child's cry.
It doesn't take you one single thought to quickly rush over in a empty alley to find a child. Your eyes scan over the dark place before spotting a pale blue-haired boy crying to himself.
"Hey... Are you okay?"
The boy whimpers in response as loud hiccups and sobs escape him. Your heart wilts at the sight, crouching down in front of the boy. "Are you alright?" You repeat, quickly scanning over the alley again. "Do you have parents? Are they around?" The boy looks up at you with lachrymose eyes, shaking his head. Your face droops a little. You notice irritation and scratch marks around the eyes and small wounds on his eye and lip.
You didn't want to take the boy so suddenly because what if he did have guardians? What if there were people looking for him?
Then again, there was no one around and you couldn't handle the heartbreak if you left the poor kid out in the wet and cold. You hesitate for a moment before bringing your hand on top of his head, ruffling the wet matted hair. "Why don't you stay at my place, kid? Get you cleaned up, yeah?" The pale boy hiccuped, nodding as soft sobs and short-repeated inhales erupt from him. Surprisingly, the kid was reluctant. You felt really bad. You suddenly felt this strong urge to protect and take care of him.
You gently place your hand on his chest, using your quirk, doing what you do best. You usually do this at the hospital you work at, when patients have panick attacks or when a patients' family start to break down after their death. You start to hear his breathing slow down and stay steady. He wasn't scratching all that much either. You stand up, bringing your hand out in front of you for him to grab. He also stands up, nearly stumbles over his own feet though, looking at your hand warily. Instead of grabbing it, he moves close to your leg. He was sort of resting his head on your thigh and it made you smile warmly. As you both walked, he stayed glued by your side under the umbrella.
When you got to your home, your first thought was to give him a bath.
You turned on the water, dipping your hands in to check the temperature. You hold out your hand towards the boy again which he.. doesn't take again, sadly. You chuckle silently before beckoning him to take off his clothes.
"You'll get a cold if you keep them on. But don't worry, I won't look. I'm only gonna help wash you, okay?"
You look away, covering both your eyes with your hands. You hear him step into the tub, feeling a tug on your pants. You turned your head, seeing the boy's bare back facing you. You warmly smile before turning off the water, grabbing a bowl that was on the side.
"Shh, it's okay," you reassure the boy, trying your best to gently dump water on his head. He starts to scratch his eyes. His scratching had you worried but there wasn't much you could do. You couldn't just tell him to not do it anymore. You definitely need to do something about that scratching.
You pour a good amount of shampoo in your hands before gently spreading it all over his head, making your way to scrub his scalp and untangle parts of his hair. His hair seemed kind of unnatural. Of course it was pretty common for some people to have vibrant colors for their hair naturally but something about the kid made you feel sad. The boy nearly falls asleep in your hands, receiving a light-hearted laugh from you.
"So what's your name?"
The boy fiddles with his fingers underwater, blinking hazily at his reflection. "Tenko... Tenko Shimura."
"That's a nice name! My name's (Y/N) (L/N). You can just call me whatever you want, okay?" You warmly smile at him, taking a scoop of water in the bowl. "Close your eyes, Tenko."
As he does so, water pours over his head, soap running over his face. You pour water again, making sure all the soap was gone. Tenko watches all the dirty gunk and hair float around him, frowning when he starts to think about the past events that occurred not too long ago.
You pour conditioner in your hands, rubbing it in the ends of his hair. You let it sit there before grabbing some bottle, pouring some of it in the bath, swirling and moving your hand in the water to create bubbles. Tenko grabs at the foam of bubbles but when he does, it doesn't decay? His vision starts to get blurry when he doesn't see the bubbles decay. He almost jumps when he feels a warm wet sponge on his back, also coated in soap and bubbles. You scrub over his arms, under, his body, etc. You then pour water over his head, making sure to wash the conditioner away from his hair.
When he was all dried up, he was changed into the clothes your ex left behind. Sure, the clothes were large on him, but luckily you had safety pins for that. You put a safety pin on the boxer and shorts but the shirt.
You nearly squeal because he looked so cute.
About a week later, you find yourself signing papers. Officially adopting Tenko.
You had to or you couldn't get him treated. He seems to have allergies or eczema, any of that sort. And it seems to be because of his quirk, you think. A few days after meeting, he tells you about his quirk, how it destroys anything he touches. Why he couldn't take ahold of your hand. You didn't judge him though, you ruffled his hair when he explained it to you.
You scheduled an appointment for the next week, going over his symptoms. He currently seems to also have insomnia. It broke your heart because he was just too young.
A month goes by and you're applying lotion on his skin before applying cream around his eyes and throat. It seemed to have spread to his throat too. Tenko's lips also tended to become very chapped so you bought healing jelly for that too.
"There, all done Tenko!
How do you feel?"
He shyly looks up to you, fiddling with his shirt. "'S nice.." You give him a tender smile, ruffling his hair gently.
"Tenko Shimura! You get your butt here, right now!"
Tenko grumbles, stomping his way to his room. He recently had turned fourteen and it seemed he'd been having mood swings lately. But you let it slide, you knew how it was being a teenager. When you heard about what happened before he met you, you broke down in front of him. His past broke you so bad, you couldn't imagine how unbearably hurtful it was to have experienced that. But right now, he had nearly started a fight at school. Now he has detention.
You sigh when you hear metal music blast from his room, continuing to fold the rest of the laundry.
"Tenko... I'm so proud of you, my boy," you gazed at the now taller-than-you boy, holding his diploma. He was quick to pull you in for a hug, careful not to touch you with all five fingers.
"I love you, mom." His voice wavers, clutching onto you tightly.
Your eyes widen at his words. That was his first time telling you he loved you and calling you his mom. A cry rips from your throat, clutching onto him tightly. "I love you too, Tenko!" You hiccup, drowning in tears.
"My son! I love you.. my son, so- hck - so much!"
You open your eyes to the sound of a monitor beeping, the sound of the cold air leaving the AC drowning the room. You feel someone's warm hand against your own, their thumb rubbing across your wrinkly knuckles.
"T-Tenko? Is that you?" You warily look over to the side, seeing your son's sad expression. He smiles though. Just for you. "Tenko.. Tenko.."
"What is it, mom?" A tear falls onto your hand.
"When did you- when did you grow up so quick.. I..."
Your eyes dart around, looking him up and down. "Let- let me take care of you, Tenko.. Give you your first bath..."
He laughs with a lump in his throat before leaning down, gently kissing your knuckles. "Mom... It's okay. Just rest, okay?"
You nod, drawing your gaze to the blank wall, light rain tapping against the window. You think of your son, the first time you met him and all the other special moments. Caring for him for his first time on a bike, first heartbreak, first girlfriend, first job, advice for everything, high school graduation, marriage, divorce, and everything else. You feel your chest slowly rise. You notice your breathing is starting to slow and that your body felt a little numb, mind a little hazy.
"Mom?" You move your head to the sound of your son's quivering voice, his glossy red eyes staring back into yours with hurt and love. You watch his lips twitch upward before laughing heartedly, clutching your cold clammy hand tighter than before.
"I love you, mom."
"I love you too, Tenko."
A/N:
My poor baby Tenko deserves the world. :(
#Spotify#tenko shimura#mha tenko#bnha#mha fluff#mha angst#heavy angst#anime#fanfic#fiction#fantasy#slice of life#nostaligiacore#no beta we die like reader#shigaraki tenko#tenko x reader#tomura shigiraki x reader#shigaraki tomura#tomura shiragaki#bnha tomura#sad thoughts#reader is normal#Tenko lives a normal life#bittersweet#Shigiraki deserves better#Tenko deserves the world
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