#when i first watched this scene i audibly gasped just at their expressions like
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remembering the first time house and wilson see each other after a year and how they spend the entire time looking at each other like this as if they’re not supposed to be having a serious discussion rn
“you’ll appreciate that i left the ‘idiots’ subtextual”
#like istg this scene was written with fanfic in mind#when i first watched this scene i audibly gasped just at their expressions like#i just imagine park being like oh do they know each other?#foreman: yeah…#house md#hilson#gregory house#james wilson
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Playing Outlast with the LADS boys
Sylus, Xavier and Zayne
Note: I have been obsessed with Outlast for years and after playing a bit again recently I want to write how I think they'd all react to it! Plus with it being spooky season and all, it feels needed.
Tw: Outlast spoilers, hanging mentioned, asylums mentioned
Xavier
- He's so cocky at first, "I won't get scared!" He insists.
- and at first you actually believe he may not get scared, this man has faced so many battles, seen so many things, all in all he does seem fearless in some aspe- nevermind he's already sweating on the loading screen.
-He's shitting himself from the moment you step out of the car in the game.
- REFUSES to touch the controller, you have to play the entire time
- He audibly gawks in horror at the part with the hanging dude. Poor Xavier...
- He screams at the jumpscare where you're walking down the hallway and the patient grabs you
- He ends up falling asleep not even halfway through. He totally forced himself to fall asleep because he was too scared..
- by the time he wakes back up, you're at the first encounter with the priest and he shrieks
- Pretty much every jumpscare he's hiding behind his hands and asking "do we really need to finish the game..?"
- He ends up hugging you as you play, hiding his head in the crook of your neck, occasionally peeking
- he comforts you if you jump even slightly, even if you insist it's not needed.
- most of the times he peeks is during a chase scene of some kind
- However, I think at the end in the lab with Billy and the wanderer he would be able to watch a bit more without freaking out. Maybe it was just the creepy atmosphere of the asylum that made him extra jumpy.. of course he's still jumping occasionally
Zayne
- "A horror game? Those aren't good for your heartrate." Of course, this nerd starts sneaking health facts into the game.
- He kinda just.. stares in awe..?
- honestly it shocks you how this man isn't feeling creeped out, he just has a stern expression as he watches closely
- and then the first jumpscare comes
- He doesn't have MUCH of a reaction, but you notice he gasps softly, his eyebrows raised slightly.
- He will play parts of the game if you ask him.. but really really badly. You'd have to go through 10 excruciating minutes of this man walking into walls. "How do I jump again?" Before he hands back the controller and admits defeat.
- He is totally the kind of person to point out the obvious during games, like "oh, you have to flip that switch." He says, as you're standing RIGHT IN FRONT OF IT "I KNOW, ZAYNE.. but thank you..."
- Throughout the game just pointing out "that isn't possible.." "they wouldn't be alive in that state.." god this man needs a mute button for his medical information
- every few minutes he says "record this".. it gets a bit annoying when you have to remind him you can't use all of your battery.
- All in all, he wouldn't be that creeped out, the jump scares do effect him slightly but, he finds it kind of fascinating.
- As the game ends, he starts talking about what it would be like if there was really asylums like that in the world, what a nerd.
Sylus
- Oh boy when you ask him to play a horror game with him he is NOT on board
- "Why should we waste our time on such an old game?"
- And when he eventually agrees, you're absolutely delighted!
- You start playing, exploring the asylum, occasionally batting an eye to see if Sylus is scared
- But he just has a smug face, not taking his eyes off the screen with his arms crossed.
- The first jumpscare comes and he just.. sits there. "You weren't scared?!" You ask him, "no, was I supposed to be?"
- He starts jokingly repeating "little pig.." in the same tone whenever he hears it
- He finds your reactions more amusing than the game itself, letting out a chuckle when you jump slightly
- If you asked him to play he would decline. Mainly to avoid hurting his pride, because this man CANNOT game for his life, but he would never let you catch on to that fact. (You've seen him lose countless times after attempting to cheat at a claw machine..)
- I think the part with the priest at and the chapel would actually intrigue him a bit, it's an interesting and unexpected twist to him!
- and honestly he would be quite intrigued as the whole story goes on, even if he doesn't admit it
- Like Zayne, he also points out the obvious, but this time it's quite helpful. If you're stuck he quickly figures out what to do, like that god forsaken water level..
- But of course, this man doesn't find it scary at all, but he admits it was entertaining. (Mostly because he got to watch you jump at every little thing...)
#love and deepspace#sylus love and deepspace#love and deepspace sylus#lads sylus#lnds#lnds headcanons#lnds sylus#l&ds sylus#lads imagine#xavier love and deepspace#lnds zayne#zayne love and deepspace#lads zayne#l&ds zayne#zayne x reader#lnds xavier#lads xavier#xavier x reader#outlast
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Bat Baby: Part 3
Reader(pregnant wife) X Bruce Wayne(husband)
Note: this is a longer one, but thank god we have 'read more'. ;)
Summery: You're water broke. But the first you think is to NOT tell your other sons, because the time you told them you were pregnant, they panicked! So now you and Bruce sneak out and rush to the hospital.
(I do not own any DC charaters)
Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 Part 5
"Bruce."
The voice was faint, a mere murmur that pierced the quiet of the moonlit garden. Her hand trembled as it reached out to gently shake the man lying beside her.
"Bruce," she whispered urgently, her heart racing.
He stirred, his eyes slowly opening to meet hers. "Mmm? What is it?" he mumbled, the sleep still clinging to his voice.
"My water just broke," she said, her voice shaking more than she would have liked.
Bruce bolted upright, instantly alert. "Now?" he exclaimed, his sleepiness vanishing like mist in the morning sun.
“Shh!” Her pointer finger lands on her lips, “Not so loud. I don’t want to alarm the boys.”
Bruce frowned, concern etching lines on his face. "Why? It's their brother or sister on the way."
She took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing thoughts. "You remember when we told them I was pregnant?" she began, her voice low.
"Of course," Bruce replied, his hand moving to cover hers. "They were overjoyed. Overwhelmed, but so happy."
"They panicked!" Her voice grew a tad louder, and she quickly covered her mouth with her hand. "I can't deal with that right now," she continued, her eyes wide with fear. "You know how overprotective they are. They'll go into superhero mode, and the chaos will be unbearable. Please," she begged, "let's tell them after the baby is born."
Bruce nodded, understanding dawning in his eyes. "Alright," he said, his voice calm. "We'll handle this ourselves." He gently helped her feet.
"Okay, go get dressed," he instructed, his voice a soothing balm. "I’ll get our stuff.”
She nodded, her mind racing. She didn't want the baby's arrival to turn into a circus, not with the three of them - Dick, Jason, and Tim - turning the manor upside down.
"Where's the hospital bag?" Bruce asked, his voice tight.
She paused, her hand hovering over her round belly. "It's by the front door," she said, her voice a barely audible whisper. "But if we go out the front door, they'll see us!" she exclaimed in a hushed tone.
"Okay, that's fine," he said, his voice firm. He thinks for a moment, "We'll send Alfred to bring them when we arrive at the hospital."
Shenodded, gritting her teeth as another contraction began to build. She took a deep breath and held it in, trying to keep the pain from spilling out into the quiet night.
Bruce looked around the room, his gaze finally landing on the intercom system. "Alfred," he called into it, "could you come to the master bedroom, please?"
There was a moment of silence, and then the sound of footsteps echoed through the house. The door opened, and instead of Alfred's calm, collected face, it was Dick who walked in, "Is everything okay?" he asked, taking in the scene.
"Dick!" she gasped, her eyes wide. "We're fine," she managed to say, her breath hitching as another contraction started.
Dick looked from her to Bruce, his expression a mix of confusion and concern. "What's going on?"
"She just had a… a craving," Bruce said smoothly, improvising. "It's nothing to worry about. Could you go get her some ice cream?"
Dick's brow furrowed, but he nodded. "Sure," he said, turning to leave. "What kind?"
She blurted out, "Chocolate, the mint kind," hoping to buy them some time.
"Chocolate mint it is," Dick said, the tension in his voice palpable. "I believe we are out, so I'll have to go to the store real quick." he added, his eyes flickering between her and Bruce.
She nodded, her smile forced but earnest. "Thank you," she said, trying to keep her voice steady as another wave of pain washed over her. She watched him disappear into the hallway before turning to Bruce with a look of panic.
"They're everywhere," she hissed. "How are we going to sneak out?"
Bruce's gaze darted around the room, his mind racing. "We'll have to make it up as we go along," he murmured. He helped her into the bathroom and closed the door behind them. "Get dressed," he said, his voice low.
With swift, silent movements, Bruce grabbed a small bag from the closet and began to fill it with essentials: a change of clothes, her phone, and some toiletries.
The boys would be suspicious if they saw them disappear into the night without notice, so he had to be quick and precise. He tossed in a pair of comfortable shoes, her favorite blanket, and a few snacks she had been craving lately.
In the bathroom, she changed into a loose dress, the soft fabric caressing her skin as she tried to ignore the growing tightness in her belly. She looked at herself in the mirror, her eyes lingering on her reflection. Her hair was a mess of tangles from the night's rest, and her eyes were lined with shadows of fear and pain. But she knew that soon, she would be holding their child in her arms, and that thought gave her strength.
Leaning heavily on the counter, she took deep, slow breaths as the contractions grew stronger. She watched as her belly tightened, the baby moving restlessly inside her. The marble counter was cool against her palms, a stark contrast to the warmth radiating from her body. She focused on Bruce's instructions, counting each contraction under her breath.
Bruce emerged from the closet, the bag in his hand. He approached her, his eyes full of reassurance. "Ready?" he asked, his voice a gentle rumble.
She nodded, biting her lower lip to keep the whimper from escaping.
Bruce took her hand firmly in his, his thumb brushing over her knuckles in a comforting gesture. "We're going to do this," he murmured, his eyes holding hers. "We're going to get to the hospital and have our baby without the boys turning the whole thing into a superhero operation."
With a nod, she allowed him to guide her out of the bathroom and back into the bedroom. The contractions were getting closer together now, and she had to lean on Bruce to stay upright. "I'll drive," he said, his voice low and calm. "You just focus on breathing."
They made their way downstairs, each step an eternity for her. She gripped Bruce's arm, the pain in her abdomen growing more intense with every passing moment. The house was eerily silent, the only sounds the echoes of their footsteps and her soft gasps for air. The darkness of the manor seemed to close in around them, a stark contrast to the brightness of the night outside.
As they approached the living room, Bruce's grip tightened. She knew the layout of the house like the back of her hand, but the fear of being caught was a new and disconcerting sensation. They paused at the edge of the doorway, the soft glow of the television flickering across the room.
Tim and Jason sat on the couch, their eyes glued to the screen, with their backs turned. They were both dressed in their pajamas, a rare sight for the two young men who often patrolled the city as Robin and Red Hood.
"You get to the back door, I'll distract them," Bruce whispered, his voice a comforting rumble in her ear.
Her eyes searched his, finding the determination and love she needed. Bruce stepped into the living room, his eyes locking onto Tim and Jason as he steps before them, grabbing their attention. "Jason, Tim," he said casually, his tone a masterful blend of calm and authority.
With one final nod, she took a deep breath and made a break for it. The floorboards creaked beneath her feet as she hurried down the hallway, each step a silent prayer that she wouldn't be heard.
She quickly goes, her heart hammering against her ribs like a caged bird desperate for freedom. Her feet whisper against the cold marble floor, each step a silent dance of pain and urgency. The contractions are getting closer, a relentless rhythm that demands her full attention. The air in the hallway feels thick and heavy, as if it's trying to hold her back, to keep her from her destination.
Leaning heavily against the wall, she gasps for breath, her hand splayed out over the smooth surface. It's cool against her flushed skin, a tiny bastion of relief in the storm of sensations. The wallpaper's delicate pattern blurs as she squeezes her eyes shut, focusing on the simple mantra that Bruce had taught her during their prenatal classes: inhale through your nose, exhale through your mouth.
As the contraction subsides, She opens her eyes to find herself staring into the piercing gaze of Damian Wayne. He's standing a few feet away, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Where are you going?" he asks, his voice a sharp demand.
Her heart skips a beat. "Just… to get some air," she lies, her voice strained. "I'll be right back."
Damian's eyes narrow, the shadows playing across his face as he assesses her. He's too smart to be fooled so easily, and she can see the cogs turning in his mind. "You're in pain," he states, his voice softer than she's ever heard it.
"It's nothing," she insists, trying to smile, but her face feels tight, the muscles refusing to cooperate. "Just… a cramp."
Damian doesn't budge. "You're lying," he says, his tone unyielding. "Your water broke, didn't it?"
She eyes widen, and she opens her mouth to protest, but no words come out. She's caught.
"Damian, please," she whispers, her hand moving to her belly. "You can't tell them. If they know, they'll panic, and then I'll panic, and that's the last thing I need right now. Please."
Damian's expression softens, and for a moment, the hardened exterior of the young boy who had seen too much of Gotham's darkness cracks to reveal the concerned child beneath. "I won't say anything," he promises, his voice low. "Let’s get you to the car."
Her eyes fill with tears of gratitude as she nods, leaning heavily on the youngest Wayne as he leads her to the back door. The night air is cool and damp, a stark contrast to the warmth of the manor, but it feels like a breath of fresh air after being trapped in the oppressive silence of her impending labor.
The car, Bruce's sleek black, sits waiting in the shadow of the garage. Damian opens the door with a quiet click, and she slides into the passenger seat, her movements slow and deliberate as the contractions continue to build. He carefully fastens her seatbelt, his movements gentle and surprisingly tender.
"Thank you," she whispers, her eyes closing as she leans back into the leather seat. The pain is more intense now, each contraction a crescendo that seems to shake her very soul.
"Damian, what are you doing out here?"
Dick's voice sliced through the night, and her eyes shot open. She hadn't even heard his approach, so focused was she on the growing discomfort in her belly. The mint chocolate chip ice cream he held was a stark reminder of the ruse they had concocted to keep their secret.
Damian ever so calmly closed the car door and strode over to Dick, his movements fluid and silent as a cat. "I wanted to check the car," he called out, his voice steady despite the turmoil he had just witnessed. "Make sure it had enough gas for when mother suddenly goes into labor."
He couldn't see the panic in her eyes through the tinted windows, the contractions grew more intense, each one stealing her breath and tightening her grip on the seat. She watched as Dick, his eyes searching the night as if he could sense the urgency in the very air. "Sudden labor? What makes you think she'll just sudden be ready to drop?"
Damian's eyes flicked over to the passager side, for a brief moment, a silent promise of solidarity. "Just a feeling," he replied, his voice a practiced lie. "You know how unpredictable it can be."
Dick frowned, his gaze lingering on his younger brother before turning back to the house. "I'll be right back," he called out, his footsteps retreating into the manor. She watched him go, her chest heaving with each labored breath.
Damian wasted no time. He quickly opened the garage door, the sound of the electric motor a jarring intrusion in the quiet night. The moon cast a silver glow across the gleaming bonnet of the car, the light reflecting off the chrome in a ghostly dance. She felt a fresh wave of contractions, gripping the armrest with white knuckles as she fought the urge to scream.
Damaian rushed back to the passenger side and opened her door, his eyes searching hers with a rare concern. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice tight with worry.
"I'm fine," she managed to gasp, panting heavily. "Where's Bruce? We need to go. Now."
Damian nodded, his gaze never leaving hers. "I'll go get him," he said, his voice firm. "You stay here."
Before he could move, however, Bruce's footsteps echoed through the garage, his shadow stretching across the floor. "I'm here," he said, his voice calm and steady. "I had to give Dick an excuse. Damian, what are you doing here?"
Her hand tightened on the armrest as another contraction hit, stealing her breath. "Bruce!" she managed to choke out. "We have to go!"
"Shit, coming," he murmured under his breath, a hint of panic in his voice. He quickly jogs to the driver seat. "Damian, tell Alfred to meet us at the hospital with our hospital bag," he instructed, his voice low but firm. "And don't let the boys come until we give the okay, alright?"
Damian nodded, his expression unreadable in the dim light. "Understood," he said, his voice calm and composed.
Bruce quickly started the engine, the low purr of the powerful machine a comforting sound in the tense silence. Her gripped the door handle, her knuckles white as another contraction hit her like a freight train. "Bruce!" she moaned painfully, her eyes squeezed shut.
He glanced over at her, his jaw set in determination. "Hold on," he murmured, shifting the car into gear. The tires squealed softly as they pulled out of the garage, the night swallowing them up as they sped towards the hospital.
The car's headlights cut through the darkness, illuminating the twisting road ahead. Her eyes remained shut, her breathing ragged and shallow as she tried to manage the pain. Each contraction was more intense than the last, her body a symphony of agony and anticipation. Bruce's hand found hers, his grip firm and reassuring as he navigated the familiar path to the hospital.
"You're doing great," he murmured, his eyes never leaving the road. "Just keep breathing."
She nodded, her eyes squeezed shut. The pain was unbearable now, a relentless wave that crashed over her again and again. Bruce's hand was the only anchor in the storm, a warm, steady presence that kept her from being swept away.
"Fucking hell!" she groaned, the words ripping from her chest as the contraction peaked. Sweat beaded on her forehead, her body taut as a bowstring. She felt as though she was being torn apart from the inside out, the baby's impending arrival a furious symphony of agony.
Bruce's knuckles were white on the steering wheel, his eyes never leaving the road ahead. "Almost there," he whispered, his voice tight with concern. "Just hold on."
"What the fucking hell do you want me to hold onto?" She spat out through gritted teeth, her anger a stark contrast to the serene night outside the car windows. She was already tired of the pain, tired of the secrets, and tired of the fear that her labor would turn into a full-blown Gotham crisis.
He didn't respond to her outburst. He knew better than to argue with a woman in labor. "The hospital's up ahead," he said instead, his eyes darting to the GPS for confirmation. "We're almost there."
The car's tires skidded slightly as they took a sharp turn, and she felt the baby kick hard, as if in protest to the chaotic journey. She let out a low moan, "Oh, when this baby is born, you better pray I don't fucking kill you, Bruce. Because right now, I'm seriously considering it."
Bruce's jaw clenched, but he kept his eyes on the road, his knuckles white. "I'm sorry, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice tight with tension. "We're almost there. Just keep breathing."
The hospital emerged from the darkness like a beacon of hope, its lights piercing the night like a thousand tiny stars. Bruce's heart hammered in his chest as he pulled the car into the emergency bay, the tires screeching to a halt. He threw the car into park and jumped out, rushing around to her side to help her out.
"I can do it," she grunted, her face contorted in pain as she pushed herself upright. Another contraction washed over her, and she leaned heavily against the car, panting. "Just get a fucking wheelchair."
Bruce didn't argue. He dashed into the hospital, the doors swinging open with a whoosh that seemed to echo the urgency of the situation. The cool air inside was a stark contrast to the stifling tension of the car.
In moments, a nurse in blue scrubs emerged, her face a mask of calm professionalism. She took in the scene with a quick glance, then moved with purpose towards her. "Ma'am," she said, her voice soothing, "let's get you inside."
The contraction passing, and she straightened up with a wince. "Well, no shit, I'm not having a baby out here," she quipped through gritted teeth, trying to keep the panic at bay. The nurse's eyes widened slightly at the profanity, but she remained unflappable, pushing the wheelchair closer.
Bruce helped her into the chair, his touch gentle despite his urgency. "Honey, I know you're in a lot of pain," he began, his voice tight with concern. "But just keep the profanity pointing at me, okay?" He shot a quick, apologetic look at the nurse. "The nice nurse is just doing her job to help you."
"Fine," She bit out, the pain in her voice a stark contrast to the coldness of her words. "Fuck you,"
"Yes, my love," Bruce said, his voice a soothing balm to her frazzled nerves.
The nurse wheeled her through the automatic doors, the cool air of the hospital's emergency room wrapping around them like a sterile embrace. The bright lights and the smell of antiseptic were jolting after the dark, quiet journey from the manor. Her eyes snapped open, and she took in the scene with a sense of urgency that seemed to fuel her every movement.
"Right this way, Mr. and Mrs. Wayne," she said, pushing the wheelchair with an efficiency born of experience. She gripped the armrests, her knuckles white as Bruce jogged alongside her, his hand hovering protectively over her shoulder.
The hallways were a blur of white and blue as they sped towards the labor ward. The clack of the nurse's shoes echoed through the corridor, punctuated by her labored breaths. Each contraction was a battle, her body fighting against the relentless tide of pain that threatened to drown her.
Finally, the nurse stopped in front of a closed door, her expression calm and reassuring. "Here we are," she said, her voice a gentle whisper. "Let's get you prepped for delivery."
She nodded, her eyes never leaving Bruce's as the nurse wheeled her into the room. It was a stark, medical space, but the sight of the hospital bed and the monitoring equipment brought a sense of relief.
The nurse began to ask questions, but her attention was on Bruce. His eyes were filled with a mix of fear and determination, his jaw set as he nodded to each of the nurse's instructions. She could see the wheels turning in his head, planning for every possible scenario. It was a look she had seen countless times when he was Batman, but now it was for her, for their baby.
"Mrs., can you tell me how far apart your contractions are?" the nurse asked, her voice calm and soothing.
"Fuck if I know," she snapped, the pain making her irritable. "They're close. Too close."
Bruce stepped forward, his hand reaching for hers. "They're about two minutes apart," he said, his voice firm. "They've been getting stronger and closer since we left."
The nurse nodded, her gaze flicking to the monitors that had begun to beep in response to her contractions. She checked her watch and made a note before turning back to them with a gentle smile. "We'll get you into a room and start monitoring you properly," the nurse assured. "We're going to take good care of you."
"I fucking hope so," she gasped as another contraction hit, the intensity of the pain making her dizzy. The nurse's expression remained calm, but Bruce could see the concern in her eyes. She knew this wasn't the first time she'd seen a mother in such distress, but the urgency was palpable.
With a gentle touch, the nurse began to check she vitals, her movements swift and efficient. She spoke calmly, explaining each step as she went along. He eyes remained on Bruce, seeking comfort in his presence, as the nurse checked the baby's heart rate and the progression of her labor.
"You're already five centimeters dilated," the nurse announced, her voice a balm to their frazzled nerves. "Looks like baby Wayne is eager to make an entrance."
Bruce couldn't help but chuckle, his hand tightening around her. "The Wayne family trait," he murmured, his eyes shining with a hint of pride. "Always dramatic."
She glared at him, the pain momentarily forgotten. "You better not be calling me fucking dramatic," she hissed through gritted teeth, her eyes flashing. "Remember what I said back in the car Bruce."
Bruce's smile grew wider, but it was tinged with a hint of nervousness. "Of course, my love," he said, his voice a gentle tease. "I know how much you'd love to kill me, but right now let's focus on the baby."
The nurse gave them both a knowing look before focusing back on her. "Everything looks good," she said, her voice calm and soothing. "But we need to get you into a delivery room right away."
The words had barely left her mouth when a sharp pain lanced through her, "What was that?" she panted, her eyes wide with fear.
The nurse's expression grew serious. "That, Mrs. Wayne, was your baby deciding it's time to join us," she said, her voice calm. "You're in transition."
Her eyes widened with a mix of fear and excitement as the nurse called for a doctor over the intercom. The room was suddenly a flurry of activity, with medical staff rushing in and out, whispering urgently to one another. The chaos was a stark contrast to the quiet calm she had been trying to maintain throughout her labor, and she couldn't help but feel a sense of panic rising in her chest.
"Bruce," she choked out, her voice trembling. "Please don't leave me."
Her husband squeezed her hand reassuringly, his eyes never leaving hers. "I'm not going anywhere," he said, his voice a steady promise. "I'll be right here with you."
She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself as the contractions grew more intense. The pain was like nothing she had ever experienced, a burning, crushing force that seemed to consume her whole being. But she knew she couldn't let it control her, not now. Not when their baby was so close.
"Bruce," she panted, her eyes squeezed shut. "I'm sorry for snapping. This just hurts like hell, and I'm so tired of hiding it."
He squeezed her hand back, his thumb brushing over her knuckles in a soothing rhythm. "You don't have to apologize," he said, his voice a warm reassurance in the cold hospital room. "You're doing amazing."
The doctor rushed in, a stern look on her face that spoke of urgency. "We need to get you to the delivery room," she said, her voice firm but kind. "Your baby's ready to come out."
She nodded, gripping Bruce's hand so tightly he could feel her bones, but he didn't flinch. He was her rock, her protector, her love. The nurse wheeled her down the hallway, the lights flashing by like a strobe in a nightclub. Each bump in the floor sent a fresh wave of pain through her body, but she bit her lip, focusing on the end goal: holding her child.
The delivery room was a blur of activity, with nurses and doctors moving quickly and confidently. The cold, sterile smell washed over her, but it didn't matter. All she cared about was the warmth of Bruce's hand and the promise of their baby's arrival.
"Bruce," She whispered, her voice a raw, desperate plea as the contractions grew closer together.
He leaned in, his eyes full of love and determination. "You can do this," he murmured, his thumb brushing away a stray tear that had escaped her tightly closed eyes. "Our baby is almost here."
The doctor's voice was firm but gentle as she instructed her to begin pushing. "When you feel the next contraction," she said, "push down with everything you have. Don't hold back."
She took a deep breath, the room around her a cacophony of beeping machines and worried whispers. The only thing that grounded her was Bruce's hand in hers, his eyes never leaving hers. She nodded, steeling herself for the next onslaught of pain.
The contraction hit like a sledgehammer, and she gritted her teeth, pushing with every ounce of strength she had. Bruce's hand squeezed hers in encouragement, his eyes never leaving her face. "Good," he murmured, his voice steady. "Keep going."
Her body felt like it was being torn in two, but she pushed with everything she had, the sound of her own grunts filling her ears. The doctor's voice grew more insistent, counting down the seconds with a calm urgency.
"You're doing it," Bruce said, his voice thick with emotion. "You're almost there."
The room grew quieter, the only sounds the rhythmic beeping of the machines and the doctor's encouraging murmurs. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her entire world focused on the effort of bringing their child into the world.
"One more big push," the doctor coached, her voice filled with excitement. "You're doing it."
She took one final, deep breath, and pushed with a roar that seemed to come from the very depths of her soul. The pain was unbearable, but it was dwarfed by the overwhelming love and determination that fueled her.
Suddenly, there was a change in the room. The air grew thick with anticipation, and then, amidst a symphony of relief and joy, the doctor announced, "It's a girl!"
The cry of their daughter pierced the silence, a sound so beautiful it brought tears to their eyes. She collapsed back against the pillows, exhaustion and euphoria warring on her face. Bruce leaned over her, kissing her forehead as the doctor placed their tiny, squalling newborn into her arms. The baby's tiny fists waved in the air, her face red and wrinkled from her battle to be born.
"Hello, little one," she whispered, her voice hoarse from screaming. She looked up at Bruce, her eyes shining with love and disbelief. "We have a daughter."
"Yes, we do," Bruce said, his voice thick with emotion as he stared down at their baby. "She's beautiful,"
The room was suddenly filled with the soft cries of their newborn daughter, her tiny voice a stark contrast to the sterile silence that had reigned moments before. Her heart swelled with love and relief, the pain of labor already fading into the background. She looked into Bruce's eyes, seeing the same love and wonder reflected there.
"What's her name?" the nurse asked, a gentle smile playing on her lips.
She and Bruce exchanged glances, the weight of their decision settling heavily on their hearts. They had discussed names endlessly, but in this moment, it felt like the most important choice they would ever make.
Next
Writers note: I have no idea what to name her. What should her name be?
Tell me what you think it should be.
And I'll make a Part 4. But only if you people give me ideas for baby girl name.
#batman#bat family#dick grayson#jason todd#tim drake#damian wayne#bat boys#dc fandom#dc universe#bruce wayne#bruce's wife#bruce wayne x pregnant reader#bruce wayne x reader#bat baby
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hi t!!! i hope you're well. saw that your requests are open and i'm actually nervous bec this is my first time ever sending a request (๑•﹏•)
may i request gojo being jealous or pouty over reader simping over a celebrity (nct maybe or mark lee especially) (i read that you used to write for nct hehehe) (i'm on nct rabbit hole for the past few days) or or or bassist!suguru teaching reader how to play the guitar maybe?
(am i doing this right? (*・~・*) )
anyway, have a good rest of your day/night!!!
a/n: omg my love im sorry this took so long! i hope you enjoy, i wrote both but ill post it separately :)
five hours. that’s how long your boyfriend’s been sulking and ignoring you and throwing mini tantrums every now and then. all because you liked to tune into youtube a little too much to look at a bunch of boys (“26, mind you! why do they need so many members anyway?” gojo would say) dance and sing at the same time.
“NCT U this, NCT Dream that, what about NCT Tokyo?” gojo paces the room the very first time you explain the whole concept to him — a group of unlimited members while some are sorted into specific sub-groups that represent specific concepts. gojo gets part of it, but doesn’t understand why they needed to be so attractive.
“they do have an NCT Tokyo, actually! newly formed!” you grin, knowing this information would only set him off, and since then, every comeback, every variety show, every photoshoot behind-the-scenes video that you blast on the living room television is enough to get your boyfriend in the most terrible mood.
but one thing that really sets the sorcerer off is your obsession with the canadian singer slash rapper, mark lee. you admired the work he put in — training since he was young and miles away from his family. he debuted at only sixteen and made a name for himself ever since then, always putting in his 200% for everything that he does. mark’s face shows up way more often than the group videos, gojo notices; a lot of the specific fancams that focus on his performance, or those fan-made compilation videos.
it’s not like you’ve been playing videos non-stop, either. you offered gojo to wave his white flag whenever you went to do chores, made lunch, did some reports, but none came.
so you might as well enjoy a few more videos until you break the ice. you reach hour four when you feel a little bad about the glares he’s giving the tv, seated on the far other end of the sofa while you enjoy the fancam videos of fact check.
curiously, out of the corner of your eye, there’s just a bit of change in your boyfriend’s expression, a scowl still deep on his face but his eyebrows are not as furrowed, eyes not as narrowed and squinted as he liked it to be. having dated since high school, you already know what’s going in that head of his — you know he finds mark at least a little attractive, but his pride wouldn’t let him tell you that.
“see anything you like?” you hear the audible gasp of gojo when you call out to him, letting the video go on not because you watched it a couple times already (while not entirely wrong) but you think gojo still outshines any k-pop idol on the big screen.
“no . .” he mumbles, sinking into himself more and more to prevent you from looking at his expression; but the foot-tapping, the secretive eyes, the head bobs all give him away. you know you’ve got him figured out when you scoot over and he doesn’t move, letting you untangle his fortress of shame shown in his body language.
“you can tell me he’s pretty, you know that right?” you giggle, lifting his arm to slot yourself under it. you fit just right upon his bent knees, looking up at the familiar frown on his face. gently, you peel away the blindfold on his face, greeted with the stark blue eyes that you find yourself falling deeper into each day.
“no comment.”
you laugh at his stubbornness, a hand caressing his cheek as you try to contain your smile. even now, he’s not doing a very good job of catching glances at the television and sulking.
“okay, then, i guess i’ll just continue to watch my videos, then, since tomorrow is an off-day.”
“no! i-i mean . . uh,” gojo is torn between admiring your favourite idol and staying jealous, but he can’t formulate words when you stare at him like that; a crinkle in your eyes and just a sliver of your teeth while your eyes sparkle under the apartment lighting.
“ugghhhh . . i don’t know,” gojo buries his face in his hands, “why do you like him so much anyway? do you like him more than me?”
you hum, striking a faux pose of pondering and your boyfriend only whines again at that, accidentally putting down his knees and your support from behind you is made void immediately. if it wasn’t for your arms that hung around his shoulder, you would’ve landed on his lap pretty harshly.
gojo only huffs after also doing his part: an arm replacing his thighs to keep you from falling. there you hang awkwardly, still faced with gojo’s adorable pout, “mark lee definitely couldn’t have done that. i’ll tell you that much.”
you roll your eyes with a big grin, “oh, you big jealous oaf, c’mere.”
without warning you latch yourself onto him, slightly tackling him into a violent embrace with your lips on his and gojo sighs indefinitely like he’s been waiting all day for it. he just lets you have your way with him, letting you kiss him like you’ve never done before. he hums into your mouth, submitting to you as you climb into his lap.
“so i’m assuming you like me more than him?”
your boyfriend teases as you pull away, hands caressing your sides and sending chills right down to your centre.
“do you really have to ask?” you giggle, fully taking off his blindfold, now, brushing your fingers through his hair. through the corner of your eye, you see him play with the left and right buttons possibly to find a spicy playlist you two could get down to (his words, not yours), but before it can even start:
the playlist’s interrupted by an advert for nature republic with mark’s voice that plays through the speakers, panning out to eight other boys on a beach and smiling as if they’re aware of the torment they harboured.
your sorcerer boyfriend merely throws his hands up in frustration (“oh, come on!”), melting into the couch with a permanent scowl while the living room only fills up with your loud laughter.
#euuughhhh idk how to feel abt this but i should be kinder to myself considering i havent written for a whole month#and is currently burning up#it's only up from here ig#gojo x reader#gojo fluff#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru#gojou satoru x reader#gojou x reader#gojo x you#satoru gojo#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jujutsu kaisen gojo#jjk fluff#jjk x reader#jjk drabbles#jjk scenarios
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Curt Biddick x Reader x John Egan
After the death of your partner you fall into the arms of John Egan and must navigate the difficult turmoil of grief and falling in love all over again.
Minor doi, contains explicit scenes, 18+ content between Bucky and reader. Talks of death, grief, heavy topics covered, it’s gonna be a long one, buckle in - some of the dates and information is factually incorrect, some is based off the show and some is from real life accounts - all characters are based off the fictional ones portrayed in MOTA. This isn’t proof read soooo take it easy on me.
August 18th 1944:
“Curt-” you’d stammered out before the pilot could aboard the back of the jeep. The man turned over his shoulder, stepping back to face you once more. With a hand to your hip he closed the distance between you, earning more than a couple stares and jeers from the men aboard the vehicle.
“If anything happens-” you’d hushed, but Curt had cut you off, tracing a finger over your cheek.
“Nothin’s gonna happen, baby.”
“If anything happens.” You inhaled once more, wanting to get your point across. “You promise me you’ll bail. Don’t try to do some heroic move that’ll get you killed.” Your eyes met and Curt instantly felt moved by your words. Your hand had come to rest on his chest, over his uniform, one last touch.
After a few seconds of taking in your worried expression, a nervous Curt began to nod, holding the eye contact that neither of you dared to break. “Promise, baby.” He then spoke, allowing you to breathe once more. Curt stepped a little closer, wrapping an arm over the back of your shoulders to bring you closer. The pilot didn’t care who onboard was watching, the two of you were newly together, blissfully enjoying the honeymoon stage everybody said was oh so nice, but Curt never realized it could be this good.
“C’mon, gimme a good-luck kiss, my darlin’.” Despite the nerves twisting and gripping at your stomach, you’d managed to break a smile, moving up to press a kiss firmly over the plush of his lips, savouring the moment and allowing him to kiss you one, two, three times until you’d broken into a tight embrace, a goodbye.
“I love you.” Curt then uttered those three words, an audible gasp leaving your mouth as you sunk deeper into his front, savouring every last moment you could get. “I love you, Curt.” Leaving things unspoken out here was to play a dangerous game. Not knowing when or if you’d re somebody again, you’d learnt the hard way to be upfront about everything for the sake of these men.
Curt sighed out, feeling the ticking of pressure in the back of his head to get back into the vehicle. Maybe this time was no different, but it felt it. There was a gnawing deep inside of his chest, the air around him was like god-damn pea soup, and his girl had just told him she loved him. It was a time for celebrating, not doubt.
“One more kiss for good luck, darlin’.” He tugged back first, and you’d allowed your lips to press firmly against his, lingering for a few moments as you savoured every second of the kiss, the taste of him, the feel of him, the scent of him. He would be back soon, you reminded yourself. Just one sleep away, like he’d said the night before.
“I’ll see ya’ soon, baby, better be waitin’ for me.” Curt attempted to joke but it fell flat with a slight breath of laughter. You picked him up with that gorgeous smile he couldn’t get enough of, squeezing his hands as he brought you a few steps closer to the vehicle, not prepared to leave just yet.
“I’ll be seein’ you, as soon as I see those planes.”
“Alrigh’.”
With one last hesitant squeeze, you broke off in different directions, pressing your hand close to your chest to keep the feeling of him near your heart, where he would remain for the rest of your life. Maybe if you knew that was the last time you’d see Curt you’d have made a bigger deal, begged him not to go, thrown a fit or faked an injury- but the feeling was never any different from any other time he went up. Each time before he’d returned, right? So why would your gut suddenly be right this time?
War was a twisted and cruel game. When it came to it, it all came down to fate, you knew all too well. And at 11am the same morning, you’d felt a tightness in your chest, radiating through your heart as you’d attempted to rub the area, soothing the feeling.
“Alice.” You’d turned up your fellow nurse that day. “Somethin’ doesn’t feel right…”
With the comforts of your friends in mind and Curt’s fresh admission of ‘I love you’, you’d awaited nearby the tarmac that following day, eyes glued to the sky despite the small yellow patch the sun was burning into your vision. It must’ve been a good hour of pacing on the grass waiting until you noticed the familiar spec of planes in the distance.
“There!” You’d pointed, heart in your chest. Again, you’d gripped at the chest of your uniform, clapping and cheering amongst the children and engineers around you, counting the planes and seeing them come down one by one. The hand squeezing your uniform had become clammy and ached from the tension, there was no ‘Wild Cargo’ plane like you had hoped, in fact there was several missing, and the dusty looking men who hopped out had you frozen to the tarmac below, offering each and every one of them a deadpan stare in an attempt to workout it Curt had just boarded another plane.
Then, the men spilling out began to become less and less, they boarded their jeeps for interrogation, the doctor only fifteen-feet away from you hauled orders to head back to the aid station before the check ups on the men started, but how could you move? Curt wasn’t here.
Only a few meters away, John Egan and Gale Cleven walked around the outside of their planes, patting on the metal, a physical way of thanking the Flying Fortress for keeping them safe through the mission. As they moved around the aircraft, Bucky was first to notice you. You’d teeth bit down against your thumb, other hand gripping at your uniform as anxiety rippled through your body. Johns breath was lost somewhere between his throat and lungs as he picked up the pace to grow closer to you.
“Bucky, we don’t know-” Gale attempted to stop him, knowing Bucky was weak to you, he’d do anything to make you feel better, even if that meant feeding you the same delusions he fed himself in order to stay sane out here.
“No, I know.” Bucky firmly told his friend, nodding in a fake confidence as he sniffled, staring back to Gale. Gale knew there was no arguing, by the time the exchange had happened between the pair, you’d already caught sight of the pair.
“Gale, Bucky!” Your thumb fell from between your teeth as you’d walked over towards the taller men. If anybody knew anything about Curt, it would be them. Bucky felt his heart soften at the sight of you and wince at your apparent distress that you so desperately tried to hide.
“Have you seen Curt?” Gale blinked away, but your eyes were on Bucky, he looked more sure, and maybe you were searching for false hope, but knowing Bucky unconsciously you’d picked the right person to direct the question to. The two men shared a gaze as your stomach sunk, letting out a choke of an exhale.
“They got shot down somewhere north of Regensburg-” Gale began as your mouth dropped open, brows furrowing and a sadness pooled in your eyes like neither of them had ever seen. Bucky couldn’t handle it, seeing your display of emotion. Before he could speak, you’d stumbled out your words again.
“-Well did you see shoots?” Your fist was tightening over your uniform, turning white as you began to tremble, feeling a deep, dark cloud begin to rinse through you. This wasn’t real. None of this could be real. Curt was hit before and ended up in Scotland, he would be okay now, he had to be.
“I saw four.” Gale nodded as a gasp escaped your trembling lips. “Four?” You repeated. Bucky’s mouth was agape, he tried to speak but no words would form as he glanced between you and Buck. Despair and desperation was starting to flood your bloodstream. You didn’t know whether you wanted to scream or throw up, or both. A fear settled in alongside the shock that ravished your body, making you visibly pale in the face.
“Like I said to, Buck.” Bucky now intervened, slapping Buck on the shoulder who stood still, knowing deep down it was not Biddick who escaped that plane. It was too upright, in control, a pilot had to be present or they would have stalled and nosedived. Looking at your face was too difficult to handle, too many times had he felt grief, experienced pain like no other, but seeing it on somebody else’s face caused the feeling to resurface once more inside himself.
“Curt’s probably drinkin’ a bottle of Schnapp’s waiting this all out.” Bucky approached, resting a hand on your tense shoulder. You blinked away, daring to feel hopeful at his words. Bucky squeezed at your shoulder once more, offering you a gesture of support, finding himself itching to rid your anxiety in anyway possible.
“Look, y/n, you know Curt, he always comes back.” Bucky didn’t think so much about his words as he stepped closer to you. Buck, however, was watching you with such a grief stricken look, it made your feelings conflicted. It was easier to believe Bucky’s words over Buck’s face purely out of the sheer terror that your Curt might not return.
“Yeah.” You’d found yourself agreeing, maybe foolishly. “I saw those chutes.” Bucky repeated, but was cut off with a warning from Gale. “Bucky.”
“What? I saw them for Christ sake!” John, not willing to believe the likely, shook his head back to the more rationale minded Gale. Gale offered you one more glance before moving on, leaving you watching him with an anxious pit in your stomach.
“He really didn’t come back…” your whisper trembled, watching after the blonde haired pilot. All these men, and none of them was Curt. “Hey.” Bucky intervened, placing his hand over the fist that had balled so tight over your uniform, it began to hurt. For the first time, you relaxed, finding it in yourself to glance back up at Bucky, tears beginning to flow down your cheek.
“He’s coming back.” Bucky firmed, wiping at your cheeks, although he wasn’t sure if the statement was to reassure you or lie to himself. Truthfully, yes, he did see chutes, Curt could land that god damn plane with one engine- the idea of his friend not making it was incomprehensible.
Your face dropped as you let out a soft hiccup, heart yearning for the man you’d loved so dearly. “Hey.” Bucky repeated, softening his tone but lifting your chin to meet his gaze. Your devastation was apparent. Bucky hated seeing girls cry, let alone somebody like you, his friend. Pulling you in for an embrace, you found yourself clutching at his uniform, reminiscing of the way you’d held onto Curt’s same uniform only twenty-four hours prior.
“I got you, okay? We’ll wait for him.” Bucky hushed, as you desperately repeated in your head that there was chutes. You’d told Curt, bail out no matter what, if all hope failed, you at least shared the promise that he’d bail no matter what. At best, Curt could be in a Stalag, captured and under the command of the Germans for the rest of the war but at least he’d be safe.
Two weeks later:
Bucky stood grimly listening to the news Colonel Harding was sharing as the men stood before him. Curt and Dickie were dead. It had been reported back first from the men at the Stalag who did make it, that Biddick remained in the plane in an heroic attempt to save his gravely ill friend and co-pilot Dickie. Then, the news came that the charred B-17 was found 40 miles north of Regensburg. It was believed Curt didn’t even attempt to bail and went down with their Flying Fortress.
Bucky’s stomach churned at the news, he’d lost focus after hearing the news about his friends. Then, his thoughts turned to you and the words he’d regretfully said to you right after returning from the fateful mission. ‘He’s coming back, we’ll wait for him’ god, Bucky wanted to beat himself up for being such an idiot. Nobody survived this war, nobody.
“I’m going to inform Nurse Y/l/n about the news.” Colonel Harding stiffened. Bucky’s attention snapped back towards his superior at the sound of your name.
“No, that’s ok sir, I’ll do it if that’s possible.” The American spoke up, clearing his throat and rubbing the back of his neck. All eyes were on him, including Gale Cleven who dreaded the thought of Bucky having to share such bleak news, going back drastically on his words from before. After the meeting, Gale offered Bucky a slap on the back.
“You know I can talk to her, right?” The blonde man checked as Bucky solemnly gazed around the land, looking for you.
“It’s ok.” He responded, not making eye contact once. “Im the one that told her he’d be okay. It’s on me, Buck.”
Meanwhile, you were returning from a trip home, watching the world pass you as the car drove through the familiar roads of East Anglia. You’d not taken Curt’s absence lightly, and as more time passed, you’d somewhat accepted that his fate was grim, and he was most likely dead. Dark circles rimmed your eyes from the lack of sleep and you’d grown somewhat skinnier from the lack of nutrition. All you could do was stare at the roof, engulfed by darkness as you pictured a million ways how it could have happened.
If Curt was alive, you would have surely heard something by now? Of course who knew out there, he could be on the run, or in a hospital somewhere- you didn’t dare to even dream anymore, any glimmer of hope would just make it even more unbearable when the news did reach Thorpe Abbots.
Carrying your bag, you thanked the driver quietly, walking through the base as the last of summertime sun beamed down on your face. It was a beautiful day, or it should’ve been. Nothing felt the same anymore, and a constant hollow feeling gnawed away at your stomach. Whether it was hunger or anxiety, or both, you weren’t sure. You felt out of tune with your body and completely disassociated, yearning to lay in bed and cry the day and nights away as they passed.
Exhaustion was the norm. As you walked blissfully aware towards your hut, something clenched at Bucky’s chest as he spotted your figure. “I’ll see you, Buck.” Eyes fixated to the back of you, he slapped Gale on the back before hurrying off to speed up beside you.
What would he say? How would he say it? As you opened the door to the nurses hut, he debated just letting you stay in there and let somebody else tell you- the easy way out. No, Bucky thought, jogging towards where the now closing door with a call of your name.
Pulling the wooden frame open once more, you were surprised to see Bucky hurrying over, still clad in his sheepskin coat that he never took off. “Can I-” he choked on his words. “Can I talk to you?” Immediate dread filled your body, and it became apparent from the way he was watching you, this wasn’t going to be good news.
The suitcase in your hand dropped, every limb felt numb as the pilot coerced you gently out of hut with a slight gesture. Your legs turned to jelly and it felt like you couldn’t breathe.
“Don’t tell me, Bucky.” You pleaded, his arm supporting you as he lead you to the field behind the huts, somewhere quieter. He quickened your pace, knowing a breakdown was inevitable, at least if he told you this it had to be in the privacy without others snooping in. He owed that to you.
“I don’t want to know.” You’d already felt the familiar flow of hot tears, washing away any makeup you’d attempted to put on in a desperate act of a bid for normalcy. The crack in your voice, the soft weeps that escaped your mouth has Bucky fighting against his own emotions. Standing at the edge of the field, he gripped both your arms, looking back to you with a frantic desire to take away the pain you felt.
“I’m so sorry.” Was all he could muster as you began to crumble before him, hands flying up to your face as devastated sobs racked your body. Bucky caught you once more, keeping you upright as he attempted to comfort you in anyway possible. Words fell short, he tried many times to apologise, beg for your forgiveness, but he was rattled by your cries, tears pricking at his own eyes.
“Curt.” You whimpered in a desperate plea of the man’s name. “I knew this would happen, I knew it.” You choked out to Bucky as his grip tightened on the back of your head, cradling you so tightly as your chest physically hurt, a mixture of emotions making your head spin.
Neither of you knew how long you sat there. The tears didn’t stop, your head was pounding and all you could do was stare miserably across the grassy field.
“How did it happen?” You dared to ask, Bucky watched you, reaching out to cover your trembling hand with his. “You need to eat-”
“No, how did it happen?” You repeated, sharper this time as Bucky winced, turning back to his knees, chewing on the inside of his cheek, eyes red rimmed as a guilt surged through you.
“They were hit, running on one engine, Dickie-Dickie was hit.” Bucky cleared his throat, avoiding any weakness in his tone as he told you exactly what he’d heard Colonel Harding say. “The rest of the men bailed but-” you’d began to cry again, Bucky debated telling you the rest, stumbling over his words as he struggled to watch your upset.
“Curt tried to land to save Dickie.”
“I told him to fucking bail no matter what.” Your stomach churned in a sickening manner, tried to land, he tried to. Your head dropped into your hands as you hiccuped, body shaking and feeling unable to support you anymore. Bucky’s hand fell from your own as he reached for you, bringing you closer as your body weakly fell into his. He exhaled shakily against your hair, inhaling the fresh scent of apple shampoo as he pressed a kiss there, engulfing your body in his arms.
“I wanted him to come back.” You spoke once more, voice hoarse. “I know. So did I.” Bucky hushed as you reached out, aching for comfort as you grasped onto Bucky’s arms. “I’m sorry for telling you he’d come back.” But you held no anger or distaste to the things Bucky had spoke to you before. It was your own fault for trying to believe them.
“Don’t say sorry.” You hushed as Bucky’s eyes closed, looking down to the way you held onto him so tightly. His stomach churned, but this time it wasn’t in such a sickening manner- butterflies. Fuck, he thought, pushing the selfish feelings aside as he swallowed thickly. A second wave of guilt filled him, this time, it was one he couldn’t speak about.
“I knew deep down…” you whispered, head against his chest as you felt the speeding of his heart, closing your swollen eyes, your words a small comfort to Bucky that he hadn’t led you to believe the same things he foolishly thought.
Another six weeks later, you sat in the same spot, drinking from a bottle of red wine, drinking away the sorrows of your dead lover. With a Sunday off, you took advantage of the Saturday (that was still up for debate) and bought yourself a bottle, opting to sit by yourself. It wasn’t very ‘lady like’, but the place was deserted, nobody would come down here, apart from John Egan that was.
“Mind if I join?” Your head turned to see the tall man stood behind you, eyes glassy from the alcohol he’d consumed. Your heart jumped, looking him up and down before nodding. Bucky settled with a groan, taking the bottle from your grasp and taking a swig himself.
“I’ve been lookin’ for you.” He admitted, plump lips moving against the rim of the bottle as he took another gulp of the bitter liquid. You watched as he winced, gaze lingering over his face more than was appropriate. Over the few weeks, Bucky had been there for you like no other. The more time you spent together, the more complicated things felt…
“Were you at the pub?” You hushed, bringing your knees up, hands resting on them whilst he sprawled his out, making the wine bottle seem small between his grasp.
“Yeah, why didn’t you come?” Bucky’s voice rasped from the whiskey he’d consumed earlier that evening, handing the bottle back to you, fingers grazing over yours as you both blinked down to the contact before meeting one another’s gaze again. The two of you questioned if the other had felt it too, the heat that spread from the touch, a forbidden touch that should never feel that good.
“I didn’t feel like it.” You spoke quietly as he let out an internal sigh, leaning back on both his hands. Lifting the bottle up to your lips, you didn’t get to take a swig until he’d spoke up again.
“So you came here with a bottle of wine instead?” His brows twitched, and for some reason you found the comment amusing. A smile broke, followed by a soft breath of laughter. You screwed the lid of the wine back on, dropping it to the grass in the small space between the two of you.
Bucky felt his brows lift at your mirth, something he hadn’t seen in a long time. “I’m not an alcoholic, if that’s what you’re thinking.” You nodded, forcing yourself to look across the field ahead of you, instead of at him. If Bucky caught on that you’d been feeling somewhat… close to him would he shame you and run away? He had every right to, it was a shameful way to feel after your lover, and his friend had passed. It felt wrong, but there was something pulling you in, inch by inch. You felt normal around Bucky, dare you go as far and say happy. You first started craving the emotions that came when he was around, but as the weeks turned into months, you understood that the yearning was for him.
“I’m joking.” He softly smiled, causing your eyes to look back to him once more. “I know.” You nodded, nudging the bottle as it rolled to your feet. A moment of silence took over you, Bucky found himself scanning your face, trailing over each curve and freckle on your face. The slight parting between your lips, the lift of your eyelashes. His chest softened once more and he could no longer pretend that he didn’t harbour feelings for you.
“Why’d you come find me?” You whispered, the words taking a few movements to register in his mind. “Because I wanted to see you.” He winced as you met his eyes now, smiling back to him. Fuck, Bucky thought. There it was again.
“Are you okay?” You then asked him, noticing the slight confusion lingering over his face. “I’m ok.” He quickly responded. Why would you ask? Shouldn’t it be the other way around?
“Are you thinking about Curt?” Bucky then asked, to which you nodded. Bucky felt his heart strain.
“I always think about Curt. I can’t- I don’t like going to that pub, I just think I’m gonna see him.” You swallowed, dropping your head as your eyes averted his. Shit, he thought. He’d upset you.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you-”
“No, no, no, no.” You were fast to disagree. “I like talking about him, just… I still- I can’t-” you struggled over your words as he shifted closer, dropping an arm around you.
“‘S just difficult.” Bucky understood, watching you turn to face him. Only inches apart, you felt your breath hitch, words stuck with it as a feeble nod was all you could manage. Silence took over you both once more, but now something else filled the quiet.
Bucky’s lips were parted, eyes glued to yours, chest rising and falling at an increased pace as his hand flattened over your arm, your opposite shoulder pressed into his chest as you blinked back up to him. If only looks could speak, you thought, feeling the tension build within you. Your body yearned for him, even if your mind knew it wasn’t right.
Then, when he watched the fall of your gaze onto his lips, Bucky didn’t know what overcame him. He moved forward and caught your lips in one swift movement. To his surprise, you didn’t pull back. You remained in a state of shock, mind going blank as your lips reacted quicker to the kiss than your brain could. Bucky was kissing you- you were kissing him back.
A sudden panic filled the pilot and he retrieved back in surprise, an immense level of guilt filling him as he pushed himself up, lips mumbling as many apologies as he could, but he could still taste you on him.
“I’m sorry, fuck, I’m so sorry.” Bucky scrambled to his feet, but in a state of disbelief, you followed. “No-” you shook your head frantically, reaching for his wrist as your heart beat wildly for the man before you.
“Bucky, stop.” You’d hurried around the other side, standing in front of the taller man. “I can’t, I shouldn’t have-”
“It’s okay.” You soothed, your hand smoothing down his wrist and into his hand to which he unconsciously wrapped his fingers around yours in an automatic reaction he couldn’t even control.
“If I don’t go I won’t stop, y/n.” He muttered, head hanging low as his body screamed to grab you close once more. Conflicted, you found your emotions running deeper than common sense, and in a bid for the same sense of warmth and security as before, you reached for his face, pulling yourself flush against him and catching his lips once more.
There was no debate in Bucky’s mind. Fuck, nothing else in the world moved when he was kissing you, he’d yearned for you for so long, all those touches, the late night conversations. It didn’t take long for his hands to grip at your lower bag, lips moving against each others with ease as his tongue glided across yours.
“Please Bucky.” You borderline wept as he let out a low moan, kissing you once more. Who was he to deny such a request? In a heated exchange, he eased you down to the grass, settling once again as you climbed on his lap, dragging your body over his as a warmth filled not only your core, but your whole body in a frantic display of need.
The hair that littered his top lip brushed against your face, your cheeks, your nose, your neck. Once Bucky had started, he couldn’t stop. Nothing but a pure carnal desire rushed through his veins as he pulled a hand up to your shoulder, pulling you firmer against his clothed crotch to which you both let out a sigh of relief at the friction between the two of you.
The sound of your moans as Bucky dragged his lips and teeth over your neck was nothing short of angelic. He was painfully hard in his trousers, aching as you rubbed yourself against him. Matching your rhythm, Bucky began to gyrate his hips up into yours, groaning at the sensation as he dragged his fingers through your hair, against your scalp in a soothing manner.
With the tension thick, you reached for his belt, as his hands fumbled under the layers of your dress, pushing your panties aside as a finger slid in with ease to your warmth. You rode on his lap, clutching tighter at him, hands fumbling with apprehension as you worked on freeing his cock from his trousers.
Bucky brought you to your first orgasm as you finished over his hand, mouth agape and eyes screwed shut. He watched, swallowing thickly as he was captured by your pleasure, heart racing as your body slumped against his, panting with the aftershocks of your climax.
Bucky didn’t move you, the weight of you on his front was the most comforting thing he’d ever felt, and if it wasn’t for your fingers gliding the tip of his erection against your slickness, he would’ve stayed like that all night.
Then, he was inside you. As he sunk into your warmth the angle of your position and length of his member exerted the most beautiful sounds to pass your lips, ones he would’ve enjoyed to hear louder if it wasn’t for the smooshing of his plump lips against your own. Caught up in the moment, Bucky rolled your entwined bodies onto the floor, disregarding the grass stains he’d find later as he thrusted inside your tightness with a strained groan.
“Are you sure?” Forever a gentleman, he’d almost forgot to ask, but considering the way you were gripping him like your life depended on it, you thought he would’ve known the answer to that already.
“Yes.” Your consent came out as a whine, head thrashing to the side with a gasp as he worked against your g-spot, choking out manly sounds from above you as his pelvis gyrated against yours.
“Bucky.” As you cooed out his name, the pilot gripped you closer, digging his knees into the floor, slipping slightly as he fought for balance, fingers digging into your scalp as he gyrated faster, harder, bringing you closer to release as you both begged for the sweet satisfaction of climax once more.
And when you started pleading for it, how could he deny such a thing? With a muffled cry against his mouth, ecstasy took over your body once more and Bucky followed, digging his hips harder into yours, as deep as he could go before he finished with a groan, lips opening against yours, spilling his sticky seed over your exposed vagina, dropping it down the inside of your thigh.
No more words were spoken. The two of you gasped and panted, chest heaving and falling, your body squashed between the floor and his front as you slowly regained senses once more. It was a mutual feeling of ‘what have we just done’, and after the aftershocks of your orgasms slowly wore off, it was time to face the reality of your actions.
#john bucky egan smut#john ‘bucky’ egan#john bucky egan x reader smut#John Bucky Egan x reader#Bucky Egan x reader#bucky egan smut#Bucky Egan x reader smut#mota fanfic#mota x reader#mota smut#curt biddick#Curt Biddick x reader
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A (somewhat organized) collection of thoughts/things I noticed from the new TF #7 Comic (Spoilers!) - Part 1
Hello yes, I have things I would like to say, please!!
Let's start with Soldier.
I think we all knew damn well this was coming, but I don't think anyone expected him to propose A MINUTE after where the last comic ended. They're so cute and perfect for each other in their own twisted way, UGH!!!
Also I love how Heavy says no and he blatantly ignores it because of course he does. Heavy clearly disapproves of this relationship, but I like to think he also said "no" because he understands that Zhanna is fully capable of making that decision on her own and in the end it's not his choice, it's hers.
Soldier has a LOT of scenes and dialogue in this comic and I don't think that's a coincidence. I think it was a very conscious choice to honor Rick May, whom this comic is dedicated to. All of Soldier's scenes were so good and funny and I like to think Rick May would have enjoyed them if he were still here.
2. Miss Pauling and the Australium
There is so much to talk about here but I'm going to try and keep it brief.
Now, this was always kind of my headcanon, but I genuinely think this comic proves that Australium has almost a corrupting ability for those around it (similar to the One Ring in LOTR). Almost like it brings out the worst in people, or at least the greed. Miss Pauling never seemed like a greedy person until she finally got her hands on the Australium. It really didn't seem like her and it was very off-putting (in a good way if that makes sense).
When I first read this I had this horrible, sinking feeling that Miss Pauling was going to betray the mercs and end up being the over-arching villain or something. Needless to say, I'm VERY glad I was wrong. But surely I wasn't the only one who feared this? I mean look at the way she's staring at it the entire comic! (except for the end).
Also I thought Miss Pauling was already second in command?? That's wild. She's done so much for the Administrator and she's not even near the top of the corporate ladder.
3. Spy saving Miss Pauling.
When I tell you I audibly GASPED when this happened. I was on the edge of my seat like I was watching a movie!
Between this scene and the part where Spy tries to comfort Miss Pauling when they're captured, it's obvious that he really, REALLY cares about her. It's so heart-warming that one of the (seemingly) coldest mercs is also the one that was literally willing to jump in front of a plane to save her.
Love it. Love it a lot.
4. Sniper and the Plane
Sniper, my beloved...I can't tell you how happy I was to finally see you in the new comic.
Out of all the things I would expect to be in Sniper's repertoire, being a pilot was definitely not one of them. And yet it just makes sense?? (he might not actually be a licensed pilot per say but the way Spy phrases the question makes me think this isn't the first time).
I also love how his only line of dialogue (I think) in the entire comic is when he suggests to steal a broken down plane lol truly a professional with standards.
I just love this shot SO much. Seeing all of them crammed into that tiny plane is such a hilarious idea on its own. I love how Pyro is reaching for the fire at the front of the plane (I think?) and Medic's hilarious expression as he looks out the window along with the baby baboon (His pet? His child??)
This reaffirms my theory that Sniper is just the designated driver no matter what is going on or what kind of vehicle it is. He looks like he's about to lose it on them like a frustrated dad at any second lol
5. Scout and Miss Pauling
I don't know how anyone else feels about this moment, but I personally LOVED it.
Because let's be honest, the trope of Scout being madly in love with Miss Pauling (and not receiving any ounce of affection back) was starting to become a little old and tiresome at this point. There needed to be some kind of resolution to it, but it's painfully obvious that things were never going to go the way Scout wanted them to.
And I love how he comes to this realization COMPLETELY on his own. Scout is smarter than people give him credit for and it's so refreshing for him to finally show some maturity and realize when enough is enough. It's time for him to move on and he knows that, and we eventually see him following through with it.
I also adore the scene that comes immediately afterwards. There's absolutely no hard feelings on either side and I just love their relationship for exactly what it is.
6. The Administrator Reveal and the Mercs Reactions
I'm not gonna lie, this was.....really fucking creepy. Like, it almost ventured into the horror genre which was not what I expected from a TF Comic (not that I'm complaining at all, I loved it!).
I cannot believe that this whole time Zepheniah Mann has actually been alive, and the Administrator has been keeping him that way and FORCING him to watch his sons pointless war for the rest of his life. Like...DAMN.
I know we still don't fully understand her motivations or why exactly she's doing this but in my opinion that actually makes it scarier. I like that we didn't just get all the answers on a silver platter and the writers still left some mystery, right until the end.
Most of the mercs do a good job at representing how I actually looked while I was reading this scene. Almost everyone looks either horrified or confused. Medic's the only one that looks more fascinated than anything but what else did you expect? lol
Part 2 to come!
#tf2 comic spoilers#tf2 comic 7#my thoughts#my opinion#please don't hate me if I said something wrong or said something you disagree with#there is just SO much to talk about!
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🌊 Tunnel Vision | Pt. 2
Lo'ak x Fem!Metkayina!Y/n
TAGLIST:
Word Count: 5k
Trope List:
Slow burn
Angst!
Realizing feelings moment
Hurt comfort (kinda)
Na'vi Dictionary:
WARNINGS/NOTICES/INFO:
Ilu death, quite a few bloody scenes, fight scenes, akula got killed so the nalutsa moved in, hurt Y/n scenes. Not proofread!
Fic Playlist:
After an hour or so, Y/n and Lo'ak made their way down the beach, Y/n intent of showing him one of the tide pools. She walked with a bounce in her step, the two of them chattering on about meaningless things, before she paused. She heard the jeering sound of Aonung and his group of friends, which was never a good sign. "Hold on.. Aonung is up to something." She sighed, heading down towards the water, narrowing her eyes when she saw his friend group picking on Kiri.
Lo'ak was quick to act, automatically speeding up, prepared to protect his sister. "Is he always like this?" He asked, causing Y/n to chuckle. "More or less." she nods, her ears tilting back when she saw one of the boys grabbing at Kiri's tail. The two ran over, Lo'ak shoving Aonung away, while Y/n took Kiri's arm to pull her off to the side.
"Back off, fishlips." Lo'ak ordered, his tail flicking around in an aggravated manner. One of the boys squared up against him, Neteyam soon running over, having overheard the commotion. He shoved himself in between Lo'ak and the boy, glaring at Aonung. "He said back off." He reiterates, poking his finger at Aonung's chest. One of the boys hissed, Neteyam not even bothering to return it. "From now on. I need you to respect my sister." Neteyam states, before turning to Kiri. "Come on." He nods, moving to walk away. Y/n moved to follow, gently tugging on Lo'ak's arm. "Lets go." She nods, and Lo'ak reluctantly moved to follow.
"Buh-bye~" One of the boys taunted, Aonung shaking his head as they regrouped. "Look at them. Theyre all freaks, the whole family." He scoffed, though his voice was quiet, it was still audible to the rest of them. Y/n continued to walk, but stopped when Lo'ak pulled his arm away, the boy starting to head towards back towards the group. "Lo'ak.. Lets just go." Y/n sighed, already having the feeling that a fight would occur. "Lo'ak." Neteyam called, his voice stern and sharp. "Don't worry bro. I've got this." Lo'ak nods, heading towards the group of teal skinned teens.
Aonung was quick to turn to face Lo'ak, looking him over with a jeering sort of expression. "Look..." Lo'ak says, holding his hand up, wiggling all five fingers. "I know this hand is funny, but I can do something really cool with it." He nods, Y/n, Neteyam, and Kiri all standing by and watching intensely just in case something would inevitably occur. "First... I ball it up real tight, like this," He sighed, Aonung completely focused on his hand. "And then,"
With that, he drew his fist back, and delivered a heavy punch straight to Aonung's nose, knocking the older boy down onto his butt, blood from his nose dripping down his upper lip, looking up at Lo'ak with a shocked sort of expression. "It's called a punch, bitch." Lo'ak seethed, Aonung remaining deadly still. The sudden attack caused sharp gasps to leave Y/n and Kiri, the two girls held onto each other's arms, while Neteyam gave an exasperated laugh, and started heading towards the group.
Aonung was quick to throw himself at Lo'ak, knocking him down and throwing a heavy punch to his face, Neteyam dragging Aonung off of him. Almost immediately, the rest of the friend group had joined in, causing cries of "Ow! My tail!", " Let go of my ears!", and "Ach- Let go of my hair!" to sound out relatively frequently. One of the boys delivered a slap with the flat of their tails, with made Y/n and Kiri laugh simultaneously. "This is so stupid!" Kiri groans, shaking her head as she giggled.
The fight proceeded for maybe five minutes, before both Jake and Tonowari had arrived, prying their sons off of each other. All of the boys were heavily bruised, some more than others. Ronal quickly hustled over, taking Y/n by the arm. "My sweet girl, are you okay?" She fussed, cupping her daughters face in her hands. "Yes mother, I'm fine. Aonung and his friends were harassing Kiri." She sighed, nodding to Kiri. Ronal looked towards the older girl, her ears tilted back with a slight look of guilt. "I apologize on behalf of my son, he should no better and I will be sure to have him apologize." She huffs, before standing and walking towards her mate, who was speaking sternly to his son. Jake had already drug off his sons, and Y/n couldn't help but hope that they wouldn't be in too much trouble.
She gave a soft sigh, before looking up to Kiri, cocking her head slightly to the left. "Want to come to our hut and make jewelry, while the boys get in trouble?" Y/n suggested, and a smile broke across Kiri's face. "Sure," she nods. Kiri had always been fond of making jewelry, she had learned the craft from her grandmother, and had taught Tuk. "Can we bring Tuk?" Kiri asked, and Y/n gave a happy nod. "Of course"
After the two girls had gathered Tuk, (who had been feeding the Ilu with Tsireya) they headed off through the village and to Y/n's family's hut. It was set in the center of the village, larger than most, but still reasonably sized. There were dividers that were fashioned as rooms, but they had an open wall rather than doors. There were four rooms in total, surrounding the center living area, the canopy currently empty.
Y/n lead the two girls into her room, which was situated in between Tsireya and Aonung's rooms. Her room was neat, the leather-like walls painted with blue, purple, pink, and green paints, much like Tsireya's room that was on the other end. She walked into the room, parting the beaded curtain that covered the open wall to let the girls walk in.
Her bed was a mat, much like the rest of the village, small boxes and trunks lining one wall, her clothes hanging over a makeshift bar above them. The walls held small windows, that had flaps that could be closed for privacy, though they were currently open. She sat on the floor, next to her bed, and took out the boxes of jewelry and the tools to make them.
Kiri and Tuk settled around her, Tuk practically vibrating as she was so excited to try her hand st jewelry making. Y/n set the boxes in a neat circle in the middle of them, taking out plates, needles, threads, beads, jewels, and wire, neatly organizing them, before waving at the girls to start.
Kiri picked up some earth toned beads, while Tuk attempted to grab the most vibrant ones that she could find. "What's your Ilu's name?" Tuk inquired, with her usual cheery tone as she looked up from her plate of beads. "My ilu? Her name is Onzä." Y/n smiles, beginning to work on some waist beads. "I fed her earlier, with Tsierya." Tuk chimed, before leaning a little closer to Y/n "I like you better than her." She whispered, earning a jokingly shocked gasp from Kiri, and a laugh from Y/n. "Tuk. We don't pick favorites." Kiri scolded, though she was clearly joking, which made Tuk roll her eyes with a laugh. "Like you like Spider more than Lo'ak and Neteyam." Tuk teased.
"Spider?" Y/n asked, wondering why a Na'vi would be called that. "He's a human. We grew up with him...well he grew up with us. He's like our brother, only mom doesn't like him because he's one of the sky people." Kiri shrugged, causing Y/n to grow curious. "Why's his name spider?" She asked, and Kiri couldn't help but laugh. "Well... It really started out by my dad and the scientists calling him 'Spider Monkey' when he was really little, but Spider stuck." Kiri explained, seemingly fashioning a necklace, while Tuk worked on... Whatever she was working on.
The girls chatted and made their jewelry, eventually parting ways when the afternoon light began to dim. The day slowly came to an end, Tsireya and Y/n settling in the living area of the canopy to do their hair, eventually roping in Aonung. "Hey Y/n?" Aonung piped up, Y/n having been redoing his braids. "Hm?" She hummed, Tsireya curiously poking her head over Y/n's shoulder to eavesdrop as she worked on finger coiling Y/n's hair. "What do you think of Lo'ak?" He asked, Ronal even popping up from her west st the fireplace, trying to listen for her response. "I think he's nice. And I think that you should apologize to him for beating him up. That wasn't a fair fight." She sighed, continuing to busy herself with his braids.
"Why should I apologize? He threw the first punch." Aonung huffs, causing Y/n to roll her eyes, tightening one of the braids enough for him to audibly wince. "Because it wasn't a fair fight, he only had his brother with him. You had Rotxo and your other two friends. Two versus four is in no way fair." She sighed, loosening the braid before getting back to work. Aonung simply rolled his eyes, grumbling under his breath. "You're too good for that freak." The comment took Y/n aback slightly, staring at the back of his head, before shaking her head. "You don't know what you're talking about, 'nung. We just met. Now hush before I put shells in your hair." She grumbled in response.
Ronal on the other hand, watched the exchange from her seat next to the fire, having been nibbling on a rwap, narrowing her eyes softly. None of them were aware of Lo'ak, who had been standing next to the main opening of the canopy, listening in to the conversation, having only been there to apologize, due to his fathers orders.
The next morning, Y/n headed out to do her chores. Her task for the day was to harvest the Yovo fruit, and the fruit of the melon tree. It was a relatively easy task, Tsireya helping her so the girls could hoist each other up to reach the melon. They gathered the fruits, carrying them in woven satchels and baskets. When they finished, they set out on delivering the fruit, a certain amount to each family, and any extras would be given to those that requested it. Y/n walked up the pathway, walking up to the Sully's hut. She poked her head into the main opening, smiling when she saw Neytiri and Jake. "Fruit delivery!" She chimed, walking into the hut to hand the fruit to Neytiri, who took it with a smile. "Oh, thank you. What for?" Jake inquired, looking up from the wooden figure that he had been whittling. "Every day we go pick fruit from the grove and hand them out to the village. Aonung and the boys will be out fishing this afternoon, so they'll return with fish tonight. My father invited you and your children to learn to ride the ilu and the tsurak."
She smiled, Neytiri setting the melon and fruit down next to their dishes. "Go without me, Ma'Jake. I'm going to finish unpacking." she smiled, and Jake rose to his feet, walking over to Y/n. She then began to head out of the canopy, Jake following suit. "I want to apologize for my son's behavior." Jake nodded, and Y/n simply rolled her eyes. "It's fine, my brother had it coming." She sighed, walking down the pathways and towards the beach.
She walked down the sand, laughing softly at how Jake walked, the hot sand burning his feet. "You'll grow used to it with time." She nods. The soles of her feet had grown immune to the burning sand, that was just part of being Metkayina. She smiled as Jake skurried off towards the water, panting softly when the warm water cooled his feet. She didn't expect the hot sand to break his warrior-esque physique, but she understood it. She doubted the ground was very hot in the forest. She walked towards Aonung, who had already gathered Lo'ak, Kiri, and Tuk. "You may choose to ride the ilu, or the tsurak." She hums, looking to Jake, who was already staring at the tsurak that settled next to her father, just a few feet away. "That one." He nods.
His answer didn't surprise her, she fully expected him to be drawn towards the large beast. He managed to tame Toruk after all. She gestured towards her father, who Jake proceeded to walk over to. Y/n then walked towards Aonung, giving a soft nod. "We're free to proceed." She nods, Aonung looking over Lo'ak, as Tsireya came and retrieved Kiri and Tuk to go teach in the deeper water. Lo'ak seemed slightly nervous, deep bruises and splits scattering his face, but the deep bruise that sat on Aonung's cheekbone was much more prominent, left from Lo'ak's left hook.
Aonung took a step back, clicking his tongue and whistling, two ilu swimming up to swim around him, Y/n reaching her hand out to stop one. "These are ilu." Aonung spoke, running his hand over the back of his ilu. "If you want to stay here, you must learn to ride." He nods. Y/n cocking her head. "They're similar to Ikran.. But since you're in water, the water will try to push you off of him." She nods, guiding the ilu over to Lo'ak, who was quick to mount him (with a little struggle since he wasn't used to mounting in water). She gently picked up one of the ilu's queues, Lo'ak pulling his own braid around. "Make the bond gently." Y/n breathed, Lo'ak connecting their queues as gently as he could, though the ilu still reacted uneasily, unfamiliar with the new rider. "Hold on here. Tightly." She nods, pointing to the handle that was situated between the ilu's queues. "Feel his heartbeat, his strength. Feel his breath" She instructs, Lo'ak closing his eyes and took a breath, feeling the ilu's breath beneath him.
Lo'ak internally told the ilu to swim forward, the ilu heeding the command and lurching forward. He immediately went under, knocking Lo'ak off of the beast in record time. When he bobbed back up to the surface, the ilu didn't hesitate in splashing the boy with his fin,before swimming back to Aonung, who was laughing so hard that his ribs hurt, Y/n even trying not to giggle softly.
The rest of the morning was spent in the water, everyone doing their best to get the Sully's acquainted with their water mounts. When the afternoon sun began to rise, Y/n parted ways while Aonung left to go fishing, leaving her unaware that he had decided to coax Lo'ak into going with him. Y/n had gone to go help teach the children of the village some of their traditional dances. The group of children who were no older than six, were very eager to learn. This was her favorite thing to do, teaching the little ones their tradition while Ronal watched from the side with a soft smile, she couldn't be any more proud of her daughter.
She walked the children through the steps, how to move their hips properly and where to place their feet, all the while singing the soft song that accompanied the dance, her voice flowing out across the beach, catching the attention of Neytiri. It was clear that Neytiri didn't feel at home, she missed the forest and her people, but the sudden show of tradition made her smile. She quietly walked up to stand next to Ronal, giving a soft smile.
Before Y/n knew it, a small crowd had gathered, too focused on the kids to pay attention. Neytiri, Neteyam, and a group of Metkayina parents stood nearby to watch, some of the older kids joining in on the dance lesson. Soon Neytiri even pushed Neyetam into the lesson, Y/n smiling when she saw him. The lesson lasted until eclipse had begun, the group soon scattering. Neytiri headed on back to her hut, while Neyetam walked down the beach.
All was right with the world, at least that's what Y/n thought as she began to walk back to her families hut, pausing when she saw Aonung, settled in front of the fire pit that sat in the middle of the living area. She could already tell that he had done something. "How did fishing go, Aonung?" She asked, walking behind him, moving to stand next to him, her ears twitching slightly at the crackling fire.
"Fine..." He murmurs, staring at the slow burning fire. She knew his expression well, he had done something drastic with the intent of it being a joke, and finally realized that it was a bad idea. "What did you do? Did you get in another fight?" She sighed, kneeling down next to him in an attempt to read his expression. He was her older brother, he had a soft spot for her and Tsireya, so she was sure he'd tell her. "No.. We decided to take Lo'ak fishing with us... Beyond the reef."
Her heart dropped into her stomach as soon as he spoke Lo'ak's name, her eyes widening slightly. "You know your not supposed to take them beyond the reef Aonung. What happened. Do his parents know?" She inquired, her voice low and terrifyingly steady. "I know.. He went to catch a fish, and we left him. No.. I don't think so... It was supposed to be a joke" He sighed, his ears pinned back against his head, causing her eyes to widen.
"Aonung." She seethed, her voice harsh as she pushed him over onto his side. "You left him?! Where?" She ordered, immediately rising to her feet. They had left at least six hours prior, that's six hours in the middle of the ocean with no food or clean water, surrounded by beasts that could eat anyone in one bite. "Three brothers..." He mumbles, slowly attempting to stand back up, but it only resulted in her pushing him back down. "Aonung. What are the rocks notable for? " She asked, with a horrified expression. That was clearly not something he had thought about, Aonung's eyes widening as realization hit, and equally terrified expression crossing his face. "Akula." He mutters, quickly scrambling to his feet, fully prepared to run in case his sister decided to throw a blow, which she did.
She delivered a heavy smack to the back of his head, causing him to hiss in pain. "Go tell his family. Now. Get a search party together. Skxawng." She seethed, walking around him and out onto the pathway, calling for her ilu, who was quick to swim up. "What are you doing?" He asked, pausing to watch her. "I'm going to go look for him, someone has to." She huffs, causing his fear stricken expression to grow more severe. "Just wait until we get a search party, or take Rotxo." He spoke, moving in an attempt to grab her arm and stop her from diving into the water, but he was too late. "Go tell his family." She hissed, diving into the water and mounting her ilu, before the two swam off.
It was a long swim, her ilu clicking in protest when they finally reached the rocks, calling out for Lo'ak, her heart pounding against her ribcage. She called for him for about ten minutes, her sense of dread growing more and more with each passing second, unable to stop the small tears that dribbled over her eyelashes, totally unaware of the sudden grow in bioluminescence underneath her. Suddenly, both her and her ilu had been thrown into the air, the unmistakable groan of the nalutsa beneath her, causing her to panic.
She came crashing back down into the water as her ilu attempted to swim away, but ended up getting caught in the jaws of the giant beast, her blood soaking into the water, turning it a deep blooming shade of crimson. She swallowed a good bit of water as she screamed, bobbing back up to the surface as she coughed, her scream drawing attention to her.
She dipped back underneath the water, her eyes widening as the creature charged at her, swimming as fast as she could towards the rocks, hoping to get to some sort of high ground. She could tell that the nalutsa was only moments behind her, she could feel the water change as he snapped his jaws.
She finally managed to get to the rock, climbing it as fast as she could, the sharp stones slicing up her legs and torso, her fingertips becoming bloody as she pulled herself up, choking on the sobs that wracked their way through her body, crying even harder as the monster began repeatedly ramming it's head into the rock, only becoming more and more agitated as he blood spilled down the rock and into the water. She couldn't stop the terrified cries that left her mouth, clinging to the base of the stone.
After what felt like hours, the beast grew tired of his attempts, slowly swimming off in an aggravated manner, leaving her alone on the stone, scared, cold, and bleeding.
Lo'ak had heard her distant screams, having been sitting on Payakan's back waiting for rescue. His ears perked up, and his head snapped up, immediately sliding down to stand on one of Payakan's fins. "Bro, go to the rocks, someone needs help." He spoke, making an attempt to sign it as Payakan gave a reassuring call, waiting for Lo'ak to get a good enough hold on him before swimming towards the rocks.
There she was, clinging to the rock as the nalutsa repeatedly slammed it's head into the stone, trying to knock her loose so she would fall into the water. Rocks and debris fell around her, her chest heaving as she tried to breathe, coughing up the water that had fallen into her lungs. That was when Lo'ak realized just how much she was bleeding, the rock beneath her staining crimson. Right as he was about to tell Payakan to attack the beast, it grew agitated and swam off, watching as Y/n slumped against the stone. He immediately shooed Payakan off, with the promise of returning at some later point, swimming off towards the rocks as Payakan swam down, but lingered close just in case.
"Hey, hey hey." Lo'ak called, pulling himself up onto the rocks, doing so a little more successfully, only resulting in a few light scratches. She was audibly sobbing, her eyelashes all clumped together with saltwater and tears, her body smeared with blood, and her jewelry ruined. She opened her eyes and looked towards him, Lo'ak moving over to her so he could lift her up off of the rock. "That's a lot of blood..." He murmurs, looking over her pale face, Y/n only seeming to cry harder. "No, no! Don't cry it's okay. You're okay." He nods, worried tears beginning to prick at his own eyes, pulling her across his body, doing everything he could to both keep her off of the rock and out of the water, the sharp stone stabbing into his feet.
Lo'ak tried to keep himself calm, but he was the exact opposite, his breath trembled and his hands shook. He didn't know what to do, neither of them did. They were just scared kids.
Lo'ak held her for what felt like hours, screaming for help until his voice was broken. Y/n had long since passed out, the dead weight growing more and more difficult for him to hold onto. She was still breathing, but not at a normal rate, her breaths were shallow and quiet. Soon the weight became too much to handle, already exhausted from overexerting himself previously, so he slowly had to allow her to slip into the water, wrapping her arms around his neck as he held her head up, his body bobbing as he tried to keep his own head above water. They sat like that for a few long moments, their movements disturbing the water, causing bioluminescence to bloom, Y/n's blood staining the water.
Finally, he heard the sounds of a search party calling for them. The sound was so shocking that they both ended up going under, Lo'ak frantically pulling them up. "Hey! Hey over here! We need help!" He shouts, bobbing under once more, spitting out the water that had flooded his mouth.
Soon enough, the group made their way towards them, pulling Y/n up onto one of the rider's tsurak first, since she was in a far worse state, before pulling Lo'ak up onto another. The tsurak skimmed over the water as fast as they could, by the order of their riders. Y/n's eyes slipped open once every so often, just long enough to see the stars and the sky above them, before slipping back into unconsciousness.
When they group finally arrived to the village, the villagers were quick to alert everyone to their return. Jake and Neytiri ran down to the dock, Neytiri immediately fussing over her son, and Jake checking for any severe damage. He stopped however, when his eyes fell on Y/n. Ronal was quick to arrive, Tonowari close behind, and Aonung being drug along by his arm.
Ronal gave a wail when the villager hauled Y/n's limp unconscious body up onto the dock, Tonowari immediately taking his daughter from the man. Tsireya stood next to Aonung, all dewey eyed at the sight of her sister. Jake immediately bowed his head. "I apologize for my son, he knows better." Jake nods, his expression slightly frantic at the sight of their daughter.
"No. Aonung is to blame, he knows not to take them beyond the reef." Tonowari hissed, pushing his son down to bow on his knees. Lo'ak shook his head, taking a step forward. "It was my fault, I wanted to go." He nods. Tonowari didn't say anything after that, too busy ensuring that his daughter would make it back to their hut, Lo'ak grimacing at the trail of blood droplets that followed them.
Lo'ak moved to follow after them, though Jake tried to grab his arm to stop him, Lo'ak only pulling his arm away. "I'm going. I have to tell them what happened." He murmurs, before walking after them.
Tonowari laid Y/n down on the mat that Ronal had put in the living area, Aonung hovering next to the canopy opening while Tsireya moved to hold onto her sister's hand. Lo'ak quickly walked in, but paused by the opening. "Excuse me?" He murmurs, Tonowari looking towards him with a less than gentle look. His main priority right now was his daughter, who was still steadily bleeding. Not the scrawny little forest boy that was the whole reason she was even hurt.
"Dad..." Tsireya murmurs, placing a hand on her father's arm. "He saved her. Listen to him." She sighs, before moving to help her mother, who was setting to work on patching up and cleaning the cuts and gashes that covered her color drained frame. Lo'ak's ears tilted back at the expression Tonowari wore, his usually gentle demeanor having dissolved as soon as he caught sight of her limp frame.
"I'm sorry sir, I just wanted to tell you what happened." Lo'ak murmurs, and Tonowari waved him over, allowing the teenager to kneel next to him. "I think she came out to look for me, out at the Three Brothers. The nalutsa attacked her sir. Ate her ilu and chased her, I got there and it was ramming it's head into the rock she climbed on, trying to knock her down. The rock cut her up sir." He nods, Ronal and Tsireya listening quietly, each of them making a face of pain when they heard that her ilu hadn't survived the encounter.
Ronal continued cleaning and patching up the wounds, but dropped everything when she saw her hand move, the slight movement being a writhe of pain. Tsireya winced, Y/n constricting her hand to the point that she felt that she might snap her fingers. She wasn't awake yet, but she was clearly coming out of it. Tsireya let go of her hand, rubbing at her fingers to alleviate the ache, so Lo'ak slowly moved to hold her hand, not failing to notice how Ronal tensed up.
A few long and painful moments passed, before Y/n's eyes slowly fluttered open. She was dazed and confused for a few seconds, before the pain and fear set in, causing tears to well up in her eyes and a choked up sob to fall from her mouth. Ronal immediately softened when she saw that her daughter was awake, immediately moving to soothingly rub her shoulder. "Shhhh, my baby. Almost done, stay strong." Ronal murmurs, finishing up with her patching, before moving to grab a cup of some hot fluid. A tea, made of a heavy concoction of ar'lek seeds, and the fluid of a panopyra. She brought the tea to her crying daughters mouth, allowing her to take a few drinks of it.
With that, Ronal stood, looking to her husband and nodding towards the canopy opening, a movement that meant 'we need to talk.' Tonowari was quick to walk out, Ronal following her, Aonung soon being called out to talk with them, likely getting scolded.
Y/n clung to Lo'ak's hand, Tsireya soon walking out to leave the two alone, after whispering something into his ear, which caused his ears to tilt back and his cheeks to flush a shade of purple. He looked down to Y/n, who seemingly relaxed as the medicine kicked in, looking up to Lo'ak, who turned to look back down to her. "Feeling better?" He murmurs, and she gave a soft nod. Lo'ak nods in response, brushing her hair out of her face, tilting his body downwards so he could rest his forehead onto hers. "I thought I lost you." He murmurs, his voice cracking slightly. Nothing like a near death experience to make you realize how much you actually care for someone.
"I thought you were dead..." She murmurs, her voice hoarse and barely a whisper, tilting her forehead to meet his. Her eyes were still wet with tears, her eyelashes clumped together as the tears formed little droplets on her lower eyelids. "I know, but we're okay." He murmurs, giving a soft nod.
"We're okay."
#Spotify#lo'ak x reader#avatar way of water#avatar#lo'ak x you#lo'ak fanfiction#lo'ak x y/n#lo'ak#lo'ak fic#loak x y/n#loak x reader#loak fic#loak sully#loak angst
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WIP Wednesday - Moth to Flame (The Wives of Shor Series)
Fandom: The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim This snippet rating: T Entire fic rating: E Category: M/M Pairing: Kaidan/Lucien Flavius Genres: romance, adventure, bildungsroman Other Characters: Inigo the Brave, the Last Dragonborn Status: in progress/outlining, will not start posting until at least the first drafts of all chapters are completed
Summary: In honor of Heart's Day, my WIP Wednesday is a scene from my Kaidan/Lucien Flavius romance trilogy, where Kaidan first realizes he feels something more than camaraderie for Lucien.
Contains some punctured lung gore.
First Heart’s Day, 4E 202
Heat built in Kaidan’s chest as the healing spell poured into him. He still gasped for breath, but each draught of air came easier than the last. The golden light of the healing spell lit Lucien’s face above him as his mind cleared. Kaidan could see blood dripping out of a small aperture in the wall next to Lucien’s head.
Is that mine?
Kaidan’s head swam, he knew he was in…in…somewhere dark, somewhere built out of stone, but he could not remember how he got there or why it was important. He wished the ground would stop tilting, he felt like the whole room might slide off into Oblivion.
Over Lucien’s shoulder Kaidan could see Inigo and Pascale’s faces watching him, barely visible in the gloom.
When he opened his mouth to say he was fine, coughing wracked his frame and a few flecks of pink foam splattered across Lucien’s face.
Pascale disappeared from view.
I just need a rest, and I’ll be fine…
Lucien’s expression remained fixed, a small line between his brows that Kaidan had learned over the course of their travels meant “I am concentrating very hard.”
Pascale appeared over Lucien’s shoulder again and said something– at least, Kaidan presumed she said something, he could see her lips move and Lucien responded with a curt nod but the words weren’t audible over the damned ringing that filled Kaidan’s head.
The warmth faded as Lucien removed his hands from Kaidan’s body and took the proffered blue potion bottle from Pascale’s hand.
A wave of coldness swept in where the warmth had been; Kaidan could feel it settling around his heart as black clouds closed over his vision. He felt as if he was trapped in a deep well, the image of Lucien taking a long pull from the vessel above him small and faint. Kaidan knew he should breathe but the effort of inhaling was too much.
Come back, don’t leave me!
Golden light exploded around him, driving back the darkness and cold. In contrast to the previous gentle heat, this was a wildfire, burning its way through his body. Lucien’s face was suddenly close to his, filling his vision, as big as the sky. Kaidan thought his heart would erupt out of his chest as his pulse thundered in his ears.
It’s too much!
The energy flowing through him was like a bolting horse, and the look in Lucien’s eyes told Kaidan the flow of magicka was out of his control. Kaidan was like the vessel at the lower leg of a siphon, inexorably drawing the magicka from Lucien’s reserves. He could hear Pascale now, she was yelling at Lucien to stop.
There was a dizzying feeling of vertigo, and for a moment Kaidan could see himself. He was lying on the dirty floor of an ancient Nordic crypt in a pool of his own blood, lips pale and eyes sunken, and his hands– no, those were Lucien’s hands– gripped the front of his armor. Inigo was trying to pry them off and was yelling in Lucien’s –Kaidan’s– other ear.
Deep inside Kaidan’s mind he felt a sudden snap as tension he had never been cognizant of was released, and in an instant he was again looking up at Lucien from the proper perspective as he drew a deep, shuddering breath.
And then another.
And another.
The heat of the spell receded, but the bitter cold did not invade this time, and it was only as his breathing returned to normal that Kaidan realized he had previously only been gasping like a landed trout. His pulse was slowing to normal.
“I think…I think that’s done it,” Lucien said, giving Kaidan a wan smile before his eyes rolled up and he pitched forward in a limp heap over Kaidan’s body, completely drained of magicka.
There was no discussion needed to decide to turn back and make camp at the entrance to the tomb. Kaidan made as if to carry Lucien’s insensate form but one look from Inigo (and the realization that his legs barely had the strength to carry his own weight back out to the free air of Skyrim) and he allowed Pascale to take his pack in addition to her own as Inigo scooped up Lucien and they began to pick their way carefully back to the surface.
Lucien had roused enough to accept another magicka potion and drag himself into his bedroll (though Inigo had to help him with his boots) by the time they returned to the antechamber of the tomb. Pascale rigged a makeshift alarm by carefully placing several empty wine bottles (courtesy of the former occupants, bandits judging by the pile of discarded coin purses in the corner) inside of a fire rune on the other side of the door. Kaidan wanted to help, but he could only sink slowly to the ground and try to not topple over as dramatically as Lucien had.
That night as he tried to find sleep, Kaidan turned the experience over in his mind, worrying at it like a dog with a bone. Lucien was aggravating in the way that only relentlessly optimistic people who had never experienced a day’s hardship in their lives could be…but he had also set about learning the skills necessary to survive on the road in a harsh land like Skyrim with nary a complaint. Lucien blurted out his thoughts, often inadvertently insulting others with his observations…but he was also just as effusive with admiration and compliments.
Kaidan rolled over and cracked one eye open. In the glow from the rocks Pascale had heated in place of a smoky fire he could just make out a mess of golden hair peeking out from the opening of Lucien’s bedroll.
You were close to death and half-mad with pain; how can you be certain of what you felt?
The images in Kaidan’s mind of the moment Lucien poured too much of himself into the healing spell were confusing and indistinct.
The emotions were vivid and raw.
Kaidan had never thought of himself as particularly likable. He had decided to be content with being respected. Keeping companions (especially paying patrons) at arm’s length had been working fine for him, and he was satisfied with it.
He was.
But in that instant Kaidan saw himself through another’s eyes, and felt another’s affection, longing and grief directed at him, something had shifted.
He did not know what to do with the warm spot that remained in the center of his chest where Lucien’s hands had been pressed just a few hours ago. Kaidan told himself it was just residual magicka burn.
It would go away by the morning.
He was sure of it.
#wip wednesday#fic wip#tesblr#the elder scrolls#skyrim#Lucien Flavius#Kaidan 2#romance#Kaidan/Lucien Flavius#skyrim fanfiction#kb writes#fic: the wives of shor
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Half of You (Chapter 3) [Santiago Garcia x fem!Reader]
CH. 1 CH. 2
Summary: What's a romcom without a little tragic backstory, huh? Tragic backstory and muffins.
Word Count: 3.7k
Warnings: Mentions of death, mourning, talk of pregnancy.
A/N: I want to thank you guys so much for all the lovely comments and tags on the previous chapters of this story, it means the world to me 💚 This is going to be kind of a slow burn, mmmkay? I want Vin and Santi to simmer good and long before we add the spice because we want that payoff to be delicious. Enjoy!
You don’t knock when entering Santiago’s home anymore, not in the mornings, at least. You know you’d never catch him in a compromising position in his kitchen or living room, especially not at 9am. He is military clockwork. The ISS could set its time to Santiago’s morning routine. He’s up at 6 every day for a weighted vest run. Sometimes, when you’re up at that hour and just laying in bed, you see him jog past your window at 6:04 and always back at his front porch again by 7:00.
For the past two years, with almost no exceptions, you’ve been getting up every morning, making some kind of breakfast, and bringing it over at 9, or around nine. You’re not as punctual as Santi and sometimes the muffins or breakfast bars or whatever you make aren’t ready on the dot like his routine, but he never complains.
It wasn’t really like you were doing this for Santi, this was a structure for you. This routine of taking care of someone, being expected at someone’s home at a certain time to feed them. Not that Santi needed to be fed, the man could subsist on protein powder and supplements if needed. It was the promise you made to him….
How worried he’d been for you in the early weeks following Jay's death. When he wouldn’t see the lights of your home turn on all evening despite knowing you were inside. How he’d knock and sometimes you couldn’t find it within yourself to even tell him to go away; instead silently crying into the pillow that your head couldn’t leave.
Santi had been at a loss. He was grieving too and could only turn his pain into work. Toughing out the emotions through tasks.
It had been an odd morning about two weeks after the funeral that you saw a pair of legs sticking out from under Jay’s car in the front driveway. You were so pissed that someone was fucking with Jay’s things that you went outside for the first time in over a week, in your pajamas (a pair of Jay’s sweats and one of his giant cotton t-shirts) no shoes, and kicked the intruder in the thigh, hard enough to hurt your own toes.
“Get the fuck away from that car! I’m calling the cops!” You screamed, not caring that Mrs. Rosenthall was walking her little dog across the street, slowing her pace to watch the domestic scene play out.
“Fuck!” The hidden man shouted grabbing his thigh and in the process of reacting to the leg kick, he audibly hit his head on the underside of the car, giving another prolonged “Fuuuck.” Before scrambling out from under Jay’s vintage Mustang.
“Santi? What—What are you doing?” You cross your arms over your chest and wait for him to get to his knees, wiping off the oil from his hands onto what are clearly work pants.
“I’m changing the oil and then, if you’d be so kind as to not club me in the head with a wrench, I was going to replace the spark plugs.”
“Replace the spark plugs?”
“Yes. After the oil. Jesus, you kick like a horse.” He groans, rubbing his definitely bruised thigh over his dark blue pants.
“Sorry.” You mutter, meaning it but not really projecting culpability. How were you supposed to know it was him? Santi dives back under the car and you gasp affronted. “You can’t have his car you know. Just because he’s— you can’t, it’s not yours.” You sound like a child, unable to even express basic sentiments and the ones that you can express are stubborn and selfish. It’s the way you’ve come used to talking in the past few weeks.
Santi makes a frustrated sound under the vehicle and you don’t know if it’s because of your words, or if its a particularly stubborn nut he’s prying.
He emerges from under the car again after a few silent moments of you shifting your weight from foot to foot. Santi brings out a pan of dirty oil with him and wipes his brow with the back of his dirty forearm.
“I’m not angling for the car, Vin. It’s not my style. The fucking color alone, dios. But if you just let these things sit here, unused and unserviced, they have a tendency rot, ok?”
The metaphor feels like a personal attack, an attack on your inability to honor Jay’s memory by letting his car go to shit, an attack on your own inability to take care of yourself down to the routine maintenance of tooth brushing.
The tears come again and you let them fall pathetically. “Jesus, will I ever stop crying? I didn’t know this many tears could exist in a person.” You laugh in woe at the hard understanding on Santiago’s face.
Santiago brings you into his arms. He holds you and lets you ugly cry into the dirty fabric of his shirt. The oil and armorall smell reminds you of Jay and all his Saturday mornings spent under that fucking car.
Jay would come in after an hour or two, depending on what needed to be done, or how distracted he’d get on the maintenance if Santiago showed up to help. Tack on an extra hour if they decided it needed a ‘test drive’.
You always had breakfast waiting for him when Jay came in; oily and sweaty. Sometimes he’d come in and grab you from behind with dirty hands to which you’d shriek and demand that he needed to take a shower before he ate. You regret that now. You miss his big strong arms and you you’d give anything for the stains of his embrace. So you shift tighter into Santiago’s hug.
“I’m filthy.” He says apologetically. Probably realizing you’re in One of Jay’s nicer cotton shirts, definitely not something he’d wear to work on the ‘Stang, and he doesn’t want to ruin it.
“I don’t care.” You insist through tears, clutching his torso like a port in a storm. Santiago rubs your back, up and down like soothing an infant. You even hiccup like one.
“Do you wan’t to come in for breakfast?” You sniff. “Please.”
“You don’t need to make me breakfast, Vin. You should probably rest.”
“No. No, I don’t need to sleep. Please?”
Santiago hesitates. You can feel his head turn to look at the car.
“Spark plugs first, then I’ll go home to shower, then I’ll come back for breakfast. You need me to bring anything?”
“You don’t need to shower.” God, it comes out so starved. Your emotional regulation has gone to absolute shit and you realize for the first time that the feeling that has been eating you up is a little thing called loneliness.
“Vin, it’s okay, I’ll come back.” He pats your back and you pull out of the hug, wiping your tears and snot on the back of your forearm, looking down at your barefeet on the gravel.
“Eggs.” You nearly whisper.
“Eggs?”
“Eggs. Bring eggs. I don’t think ours are— mine are any good.”
Santiago showered and came back with eggs and you made food in your kitchen for the first time in weeks, fresh food, a meal that wasn’t a condolence casserole.
It lifted your sprits up so much that you begged Santiago to come over the next morning and then it quietly evolved to you bringing the baked goods over to his house. The responsibility did so much to haul you out of bed on days that threatened to swallow you into the folds of your comforter, on days where all you’d want to do was watch the day grow bright and fall dim without performing a solitary meaningful action.
Two years had passed. There were hardly any mornings nowadays where you felt the pull to sink into sleep and waste the day in unconsciousness. You were excited to get up every morning to see your friend. And on days when he would be gone due to the nature of his work, you’d braved up and made other friends in the neighborhood, bringing them freshly baked scones or a pitaya bowl if it it was too hot to bake. Just something. A reason to get up, to greet someone.
Santi’s home is immaculate, like always. He’s the type of single man who takes pride in a cleanly appearance, wether that’s a learned behavior from the military or if he’s always been tidy from childhood, you don’t know. The granite countertops are spotless and he’s perched at the barstool with the morning paper. His hair is still slightly damp from his morning shower and he scowls over the sports page, shaking his head at some news or other from the top fold.
“I hope you like crasins… and walnuts.”
“Jesus, Vin!” Santi startles from his stool and tosses the paper down.
“That’d be a no on the crasins then?” You laugh and ruffle the back of his curls as he settles back down into his seat. You grab a couple plates and napkins, setting a crasin muffin down on each one before pouring yourself a cup of coffee from the pot into your designated yellow mug (a trinket Santiago had made at a Color Me Mine double date from 3 or so years ago).
“You ever think about knocking when you come over?” He takes a bite from the muffin and hums pleased.
“Knocking? I’m hurt. So all that mi casa su casa talk was just for show, Garcia?”
Santi closes his eyes and slaps the counter. “Mmmm, this.” He points at the muffin and gives you a thumbs up.
“You like it more than the cinnamon rasin bread from yesterday?”
He wipes his mouth off on a napkin and gulps from his coffee mug. “That was good too.”
You take a bite of your own muffin and hum in agreement. “Oh yeah, that shit’s delicious. Adding this one to the roster for sure.”
“Uh, roster, don’t remind me.”
“Why?” You gesture to the paper “was there a tragic drafting in the world of fantasy football? Should I fly the flag at half mast?”
“Pretty dismal. Do you want to hear about it?”
“I mean, you can tell me anything, Santiago, but I’m not going to understand a word you’re saying.”
“Uh huh, I figured. I’ll spare you the tragic details and sum it up with ‘I think I’m going to lose a big chunk of change to the boys this week’ but, hey, at least I’ve got these muffins.”
“You can’t have them all, I was going to bring the rest over to Mrs. Rosenthal.”
Santi makes a quiet noise of indignation and pulls the plate of muffins closer to himself.
“Not to Gertie! You know her little fur ball was barking till past midnight? Right outside my window. Again. She doesn’t deserve muffins.” There’s a twinkle of teasing in his eyes and you sigh and relent, squeezing between your fingers the bit of tum that sits above his belt.
“You’re starting to turn into a muffin. I spoil you too much.”
With a full mouth, Santi shoves the plate back in your direction and frictions his fingers clean of crumbs.
“Take em!” He shouts dramatically with a mouth full of muffin, pushing his stool back and taking his plate to the sink to wash it by hand.
“I like the tum by the way, it’s very becoming… and the dad bod is fitting, you know, considering…”
You trail off and Santi turns around wide eyed, drying his hands on a dark grey tea towel. “Do you mean…?”
“I don’t know! I don’t know, not yet, not for a couple weeks… I mean I could be right now, and I— I wouldn’t know.” You’re beaming, eyes alight with excitement. “I’m nervous!” You clap your hands quietly together. “That’s why I made so many muffins this morning, I’m just ugh, bouncing with the anticipation— HEY what are you doing with my coffee, Garcia?!” Santi dumps your full cup of coffee down the sink and starts on hand washing your yellow mug. The barstool scrapes as you get up to retrieve your mug from his soapy hands.
“You can’t be having caffeine! It’s bad for the baby!” His upper arms are strong as he blocks you from getting your hands on the mug with his back turned to you.
“Bad for the baby? How do you know that?” Santi dries your mug with a clean towel and sets it by the electric tea kettle, flipping the blue switch on. When he abandons the mug to grab some tea from the cupboard, you snatch it and hide it behind your back, making your way sneakily over to the coffee pot as he rummages for something on the shelf.
“I’ve been reading up about it.”
“Reading up about it?” You’re not really listening to him, simply parroting his words as you quietly pour yourself a new cup of delicious dark roast coffee.
“Aha! Got it!” He holds up a box of celestial seasonings tea, eyes getting wide as he sees you taking a sip from the piping hot mug.
“Vin!” He cocks his head and holds out a hand, and the way his eyes narrow on yours, glinting with resoluteness makes you sigh with defeat and hand him the steaming hot mug.
He rinses it out once again without complaint and you examine the box of “ugh, herbal tea?”
“Yep.” He pops the ‘p’ of the word. There’s no arguing with Santi.
“I might not even be pregnant, you know.” But the proffered information is pointless. You know what he’s about to say before he even says it.
“Yeah, but you might be.” It’s exactly what you knew he was going to say.
“I never read anything like that.” But it’s a lie. You have read things like that, but of all the things? Coffee? How are you supposed to live without coffee?
“Well maybe you should read harder. I have a book you can borrow.”
“You have a book?”
“I’m not done with it yet, I’ll let you read it when I’ve finished.” Santi pours the boiling water over the teabag and you almost cry when he places the mug into your hands. In a last ditch effort to get your way, you pout your lips out and fix him with a defeated stare.
“After all the muffins I’ve made for you. Now this.”
“Nuh uh, Vin. Just try it.” He ruffles your hair in a very ‘you’ move and chuckles when you stomp your foot in a petulant show.
You sit back at the stool and blow on your tea before taking an exploratory sip. It’s not bad, but you scrunch your face in disgust anyway.
Santi shakes his head at you and takes a big gulp of his own coffee. “Mmmm, that arabica roast. Delicious.”
“You shit.” You mutter taking another gulp from the chickory tea. It’s really not too bad. You’ll have to take a picture of the box so you can get some more from the store later.
“I don’t mind playing the villain, as long as our baby won’t have a third arm from the bio hazard levels of caffeine you consume on a daily basis.”
Our baby. Our baby. Our baby. Your eyes go wide and Santiago backtracks. “I didn’t mean ‘our’ baby like that, I meant your baby… of course.”
A few beats of silence fall between the two of you.
“I’m sorry, I shouln’t—“
“I’ve been meaning to—“
You both speak at the same time and laugh awkwardly. Santiago gestures to you gently. “Please, go ahead.”
“I… I was just… well you signed all the papers Renatta gave you, and I’m sure that you, being Mr. ‘I’ve been doing my own research’, you read the whole release contract?”
“I did.”
“So… how involved did you… how involved are you intending to be with the baby?” The baby. Neutral. Not “my”, not “our”, “the”. Safe.
Santi scratches his smooth jaw and licks his lips deliberately.
“I guess I’ll be.. I wan’t to be…”
Your heart stops for a second with the intensity of his pause, your head swims and flicks through future images at a thousand miles a minute. Santiago holding a little baby’s hands as it takes its first wobbly steps, shushing a wailing baby to sleep in a nursery that doesn’t exist, singing lullabies, scrunching his nose at a dirty diaper, hiking trips with a toddler on his shoulders, tee ball practice. You shake your head to clear the whole little lifetime that unfolds rapidly in fantasy form.
“I want to be as involved as you let me.” His eyes meet yours then. And you nod unthinking at the brilliant umber depths. “If you want me to be their uncle, their neighbor, their… whatever. I’m,” he takes in a breath that fills his whole chest, “I’m okay to be whatever you need me to be.”
“Okay.”
“Well how involved do you want me to be?”
“I don’t know.”
“At all?”
“No.” Your voice sounds small and all of a sudden you feel like you’re being interrogated.
“Haven’t thought about it one bit?” He presses.
“No.” But the no feels like a lie. Because of course you’ve thought about it. You’re thinking about it right now, seated next to him in his immaculate kitchen.
“That tracks.” He scoffs and goes back to his paper, flicking the pages open with agitation.
“Hey!” You push his fist down and hold his clenching fingers lightly with your own. His face looks hurt. “I don’t really know right now. It’s— this is all new to me, Santiago.”
Santi nods in understanding but still looks as though there’s something on the tip of his tongue that he’s trying to reign in. “I’m sorry Vin. You…” he unclenches his fist and takes your fingers into his warm palm, holding them with reassurance. You stare down at your joined hands, unable to meet his understanding eyes. You don’t deserve how kind and patient he is with you. How giving he’s always been with you. His nature makes you feel fucking guilty at times. “You take all the time you need, Vin. I’m not going anywhere.”
“No?”
“No. I live right next door.”
You smile at him. “Thanks, Santi.”
He lets go of your hand and pats it. “Plus the real estate market is a nightmare right now,” he takes another sip of his coffee which sloshes slightly when you shove his shoulder. “I’d be insane to sell in this economy.”
“You shit!”
Santi smiles and goes back to his paper with a smile and genuine interest.
“What are your plans for today, officer.”
Santi scratches his eyebrow, “I need to hit up Home Depot to get some fresh wire for the weed whacker. How about you?’
“Oh my god, thats perfect!”
“Glad you think so, seeing as how I’ll be treating your lawn too.”
“Are you taking your truck?”
“Uhhh, yeah?”
“Becasuse… if you could, if you’d be so kind…”
Santi rolls his eyes, “What do you need?”
“There’s this little outdoor plant shelf from their weekly ad that I want to get. Plus this osmosis water filtration thingy, but what I really need your truck for is the plant shelf.” You temple your fingers at your lips in hopefulness.
“Thought you said it was ‘little’?”
“Uhhh…. Comparatively.”
“Compared to what?”
“Compared to my car.”
“Vin…”
“And I know what you’re thinking. You think that I’m going to force you to build the plant shelf for me.”
“Bingo.”
“But its pretty simple, I think I can do it myself!”
“Uh huh.”
“I will need to borrow your zzzz zzzzzz gun, though.”
“My what??”
“Don’t play dumb. Your bzzzz bzzzz gun! The think that can drill stuff?”
“My drill, you mean?”
“Yeah. Probably.”
Santi scrunches up his face and pinches the bridge of his nose.
“And the osmosis filter?”
“What about it?”
“Is it an internal or external component?”
“Uhhh? Elaborate?”
“Is the system under the sink or to the side of the sink?”
“Oh! Under.”
Santi blinks at you. “And where will the filtered water come out of?”
“A little spigot with a lever on the side of the main faucet.”
“You know you’ll need a drill for that one too? Plus you’ll need to shut off the water main? I…. Vin, did you know this?”
“No… but I did taste the reverse osmosis water and Renatta’s the other day and ugghhh I need it! She said it wasn’t hard to install.”
“Really? Did she install it herself?”
“No. She hired someone.”
“You’re insane.”
“I can figure it out, Santi! I don’t need your help! I just need your truck to fit the planter desk thingy.”
“Fine.”
You clap your hands and Santi sighs, grabbing his keys and sunglasses. You push past him out the door with the plate of remaining muffins
“I just gotta drop these off at Gertie’s and grab my purse, I’ll meet you at your truck!”
“Careful!” Santiago barks at you as you jump over the low hedge toward Mrs.Rosenthal’s house. You nearly stumble and spill the plate of muffins on her driveway. You turn to see Santiago standing on his porch with his sunglasses on his head, both hands on his hips and shaking his head at you with a slight smile. He really would make a great dad.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Taglist (if you'd like to be added or removed lmk!)
@miraclesabound : @reallystressedhoneybee : @blackberries45 : @plz-and-spank-you : @bit-dodgy-innit : @rnlaing : @stevenngrant : @sharin4readers : @hebelongstothestars : @stardustbells : @alwritey-aphrodite : @libraryreservations : @eroticandawkward : @tripleheartx : @johnny-simpfinger : @fangirlfreakingout : @jake-g-lockley : @lunawants : @andromeda-dear : @writefightandflightclub : @oscarsbabe : @marshmallow--3 : @luminescentlily : @laters-gators : @astroboots : @clementineremembers : @lovely-cryptid : @nerdygirl0414
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BLOODY KISSES ➯ NICOLAS BROWN
血まみれのキス
Chimamire no kisu
Anger.
A feeling that could never be sate by the simple words 'I'm sorry.'
When angry, it's said that you are ticking, like a bomb; waiting involuntarily for the next set of actions that will be just enough to push you over the edge and make you explode.
The tag's grip tightened.
He trudged slowly up the stairs of the building. The repeated sound of a thud following his every step as he edged closer and closer towards the front door. A heavy silence kissed greedily by the thing in his clutches, striking horror upon everyone he'd managed to encounter on the backroads he'd snaked his way through on his return.
Whether it was the stench of it or the sight, he didn't care – he'd gotten what he'd wanted now and that was all that mattered despite the red liquid that followed in it's trail.
The man came to a stop, face to face with the brown wooden door. His grip on the stranger's blonde bloodied locks growing impossibly tighter as he listened carefully. Subtle but noticeable vibrations audible to his feet, setting a wide, heinous, grin upon his face.
Unaware of the presence of the man on the other side of the door, you continued to stare through the thin glass pane shielding you from the outer world; feet swaying lightly and colliding softly with the couch every now and then, letting off small vibrations.
The door busted open, slamming itself into the wall.
You jolted, spinning around to face the brunette who's face was bare of any emotion. A foul smell creeped it's way into the apartment as Nicolas slammed the door behind him, dragging the rotting corpse into the room before throwing it onto the floor ahead of him.
Your hands rushed to shield your nose from the stench as you pushed yourself up from the couch to face whatever delight he'd brought along with himself.
A look of horror settled upon your face as you stared down at the sight before you.
Distress painted the face of the blonde corpse. It's neck was slit wide open, and a deep red liquid continued to roll from the gash seeping into the wooden floor boards of the apartment.
You would have been calm, if anything desensitised to the scene – but when your eyes met with the lifeless blue eyes of the victim you were hit with a strong wave of realisation.
'This. The one you wanted right?' His hands signed slowly as if he'd wanted you to take in every word he made out. 'I got him for you. I saw you staring at work. Remember?'
The tag's expression continued to remain unfazed as his dark eyes stared at you coldly, analysing your every move carefully.
Your hands began to tremble as your gaze fell to the floor; chest rising and falling heavily as you stared down at the victim before you. Serving him once and finding him attractive with unknowing eyes watching you, ended with his fate being sealed sooner. His name you didn't even know, you couldn't even remember what he'd sounded like, but of course Nicolas, had assumed otherwise.
The tag sighed in frustration. "You seem mad." He spoke with a slight slur in his tone. "I got you a new fuckin' toy. Now fuckin' play with his lifeless body-."
"What the fuck is wrong with you Nico?" You screamed in his face. He stared back at you with a blank expression, eyes locked on your lips as he tried to control the anger that had been building up inside of him.
"Jesus fucking Christ." You sighed pacing alongside the body before you. "You did this because you were jealous?" Silence. "I'm not even fucking dating you first of all-." The bomb went off.
A firm grip was met with your throat. You whimpered, soon gasping for air as the tag dragged you closer towards him with a snarl on his face, watching mercilessly as your hands reached up to claw at his own.
Your words rang through his head like an unwanted melody, reminding him of what he'd meant to you. He'd felt devalued, like his feelings meant nothing to you after meaning nothing to anyone. It enraged him.
"L-let go." You croaked. His expression softened back to it's usual blank state and the grip was gone.
Falling to your knees, you began gasping for air, hand clutching and rubbing your poor throat that would surely be bruised in the morning.
Without a further word or sign, the brunette left the room, leaving you alone with the corpse before you.
☠︎
"He doesn't mean it, you know." Alex's hand rubbed at your side soothingly as you continued to cry onto her chest. Her and Worick had come home from a trip to Connie's to find you crying on the floor beside the bloody corpse. It hadn't been the first time they'd come home to you crying because of Nicolas. Worick growing used to the whole ordeal would often make sure to come home with chocolates just for you if he'd had the money. He'd felt he wasn't the greatest at empathising with you and so he'd leave that to Alex. But he'd hoped the chocolates would let you know he'd tried in his own way.
"He just doesn't know how to express things to people in a... let's say normal way. But he does love you Y/N."
"That explains the bruise on my throat." Alex stiffened. That was the seventh one this month and it was only the twelfth day in. She'd never know how to justify him putting his hands on you like that. He'd mainly slap and leave bruises but even so that wasn't something you could really move on from.
You'd understood he'd liked you; you were the only survivor he'd known from west gate, to add to that you were near fluent in sign language, and that was something to bond over. After a while one thing led to another and you'd slept with him once or twice but nobody had felt any way about it. You'd kept it between the two of you and moved forward, only for him to start growing possessive and irritable over you about a month later.
You'd still felt no way towards him. But given his past life you'd understood why that was so hard for him to come to terms with.
He'd stopped talking to you altogether eventually, started ignoring you like he did everyone else. The only times you would talk was when he did stupid things like follow you or drag a dead body into the apartment. Shortly after he'd started hitting you, and when Worick tried to speak to him about it he wouldn't read a single word that left his lips.
It wasn't as bad as it could be, so you'd dealt with it. Giving him the silent treatment as he did you and eating up whatever he threw at you as best you could, even if that was shown as you crying on Alex's breasts.
"Y/N..."
"Let's just not talk."
The silence between you both spoke in volumes that no one knew how to replicate, but it was comforting to you and in that moment that was all that mattered.
𝐀𝐧 𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐦𝐲 𝐍𝐢𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐬 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐧 𝐖𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐩𝐚𝐝 (𝐒𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧? 𝐘𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐝) 𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐲 @ 𝐢𝐬 𝐃𝐎𝐎𝐌𝐒𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇
#nicolas brown x reader#nicolas brown#gangsta#gangsta worick#gangsta nicolas#worick arcangelo#gangsta alex#alex#alex benedetto#gangsta x reader#tags#twilight#gore mention#homicide#headcanon#headcanons#tw triggers#tw abuse#toxic love#anime icons#anime x reader#anime figure#anime headcanons#anime collection#wattpad#oneshot#chapter 1#doomsdeath#SoundCloud
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Family reunion
Pairing: Dabi/ Fem!Reader
Warnings: Kidnapping, Dub-con, Degradation, Brother/Sister Incest, Manipulation, Guilt-tripping, OOC, Smut
Contains manga spoilers. Minors DNI.
Words: 4130
Synopsis: You was kidnapped while on your way home from work. Turned out your kidnapper was someone you knew.
A/N: I don't own any of the characters. Please read the warnings before continuing and we're gonna jump straight to the scene after (y/n) had been kidnapped (because i was too lazy to write the former part OTL)
==============
Unable to escape from the kidnapper’s tight rope around your wrists, you helplessly let him carry you to somewhere that looked like an abandoned building. Not like you could exactly tell where it was, given the fact that your eyes had been covered ever since he captured you until you two “arrived” at the destination. Either had you been able to scream or to call for help, “If you decide to be a naughty little girl and make a fuss, or to even let a single person know about this and hinder my work, I can and I will burn your whole workplace while letting your watch every single second of it.” – the kidnapper had threatened, making panic surged within your body; the only thing you could blurt out to answer his “Is that clear?” was a simple “Yes.” Not wanting to involve any of your aquaintances, you decided to keep your mouth shut the entire time. You thought that it was a better idea to wait until you could learn about what he wanted, his motives behind this before trying to escape.
He placed you down on the floor after carrying you into a small room with the action being a little too gentle for a kidnapper, you thought and opened your eyes only to be met with a pair of turquoise gazes, slightly hidden behind his spiky black hair. Those reminded you of Shouto’s left eye color but they had a rather.. captivating effect, making you unable to tear your eyes off them. More like Touya’s eyes – the recollection passing your mind was quickly brushed off, given the harsh reality that Touya has been dead for more than 10 years. You cautiously opened your mouth to ask, still keeping eye contact.
"What do you want?"
“…What do I want?” He repeated the question before slowly taking off his black face mask. The way he did it was deliberate, elegant even, as if he was putting on a show to reveal what’s hidden behind the mask. In front of you was an abnormal façade: Purple skin lied under his eye bags, his lower cheeks and lower lip, all the way down to his collarbone; connected together with the normal parts of the skin by surgical staples. An audible gasp escaped your throat the moment you realized that the man who abducted you was the wanted criminal you saw on TV.
“League of Villains.. You’re.. You’re Dabi…”
“Dabi? Ah yes, people call me that now. But I thought you would recognize me now, you’re my family after all..” He trailed off at the end, as though he was rather hurt by your comment.
“Family? Stop joking now, we don’t even know each other!”
“You sure? Even when you used to call me Touya-nii with that sweet voice of yours?”
“I said stop!! Listen, I have no idea why you know about Touya but he’s not alive anymore, don’t bring him into this!” Your shaking voice resounded with rage. In the past few years you’d partly moved on from your brother’s death, even learned how to stop tearing up whenever someone mentions him. To say you was mad was an understatement, since the kidnapper crossed the line, pulled out those emotions that you’d tried so hard to hide them away. You couldn’t stay calm anymore. This villain and the audacity to even mention Touya, let alone making such an unbearable joke about him.
“(y/n)-chan,” The way he called your name was too familiar “you still have the habit of defending me after all this time.”
“Wh..What.. do you mean?”
“Don’t you remember? You were always there to patch me up every time I went out training on my own. Those nights that distress and hatred consumed me, you were the only one who was willing to give me a shoulder to cry on, to hear me rant about that stupid family. You were the only one who didn’t refuse to look at a “failure” like me while our father focused all his attention on that “masterpiece”. You made me feel like I’m not useless, (y/n)-chan. Sure you haven’t forgotten, right?”
“You’re.. lying.. Touya-nii is..”
“Yes, yes. Everybody thought so.” He interrupted. “But I escaped from the fire and as you can see,” He raised his hand to touch the staples. “I’m still here. If I’d died in that fire, I would have become a ghost, an evil spirit to haunt the hell out of Todoroki Enji.” The explanation ended with a snort.
But not for you, you couldn’t possibly laugh about it the way he did. You were nothing but speechless. The big brother you once thought wasn’t here, could never be here with you anymore was still alive and kicking. Thoughts of how Touya had managed to live since that day started to emerge your mind and probably because of the invisible connection, the blood connection between you two, you could feel his pain, his suffering, the dull ache that never go away in every single staple on his body… It must’ve been hard for a thirteen-year-old child to manage by himself after crawling out of a literal hell, you thought, mouth still agaped with astonishment. Tears neither stopped welling up, nor did they escape your shiny orbs when you looked at him through your blurry vision. You had so many questions to ask, but none of them could be voiced.
“But that’s the story for another day. Now, we have to celebrate the happy reunion of brother and sister, right?” He interrupted your thoughts before slowly approaching you. His tall body hovered over yours, enhancing the feeling of being small and helpless as your hands still being tied behind your back. He gripped your jaw with one hand, the other started to work on the buttons of your shirt while Touya’s slightly chapped lips met your own in a kiss that was soft at first but quickly turned passionate, sloppy with his tongue chasing every corner of your mouth.
“Touya..nii..” You panted between his kisses, trying your best to stop him from doing what you think he was trying to do. “We shouldn’t.. You shouldn’t do this.. We’re siblings..”
“Ah yes, you’re my favorite sibling after all, one more reason why we should do this, right?” His stapled mouth stretched into a huge grin, then he leaned back to take in the view of your body.
“My little sister has grown up.. To be honest, I didn’t have any of these dirty thoughts when we were children but now, I just want to fucking ravish you until all you can think of is me and my cock.”
His dirty talk sent a shiver thorough your body and you started to feel heat coiling up in your core. As if amused, turned on by your reaction, Touya grabbed one of your breasts and gave it a squeeze, causing a soft moan to escape your pump lips.
“What was that? Don’t tell me (y/n)-chan is aroused by her very own brother, hm? I’ve been stalking you for a while, my little sister. ‘Twas hard to find you since you don’t live at that house anymore. Can’t believe behind all those innocent act is a little whore who gets aroused easily by her Touya-nii.” He spat out, specifically emphasized the phrase you used to call him. Blue eyes looking down at you as if you were indeed what he said – a slut waiting to be bred.
“Touya-nii.. Please stop it.. I don’t want this..” Looking up at him through your wet lashes, you said with a whimper, begging him to stop.
Little did you know it had no such effect for Touya. Seeing your vulnerable face in a helpless state only boosted his ego; he felt as if he was the only one you could rely on, the only one who was able to decide your fate and damn, he could never get bored of this.
“What a pity, (y/n)-chan, because I, in fact, DO want this.” Touya murmured between kisses, leaving red spots blossoming all over your breasts, your shoulders, your collarbone. “Don’t you want to make your Touya-nii happy (y/n)-chan? You see, there hadn’t been a single day in which these staples stopped hurting me whenever I move. My tear glands were burned ever since the fire. I couldn’t cry because when I do, it hurts and blood flows out of my eye bags.” His fingers indicated the purple skin underneath his eyes as he continued. “I've lived with emotional numbness ever since. Your big brother doesn't feel anything anymore, (y/n)-chan..” Touya trailed off.
“But you, the only one who didn’t refuse to look at me... Having you here with me really makes me happy, and the kind little sister I know wouldn’t want to take that happiness away from me right?..” Turquoise orbs looked up at you through black strands of hair. As if wavering, as if pleading, as if he was asking you for your consent.
All to hide the fact that he guilt-tripped you into this.
And with him being a quick-witted, perceptive man, Touya’s tactics were never fruitless. He could tell your conscience would be troubled if you’d turned him down, especially when he phrased the words like that. He took advantage of the shocking state you were in, making you feel pity for him and overlook his immoral behaviours.
Touya waited with bated breath, eye contact still maintained.
“I..I want Touya-nii to be happy..” – your reply after a moment of thinking only caused a chuckle to escape his mouth and it’s almost like this was all he had been waiting for, all in his anticipation. This was the exact reaction that Touya wanted and as your best big brother ever, he couldn’t possibly put off anymore without his hands as your bra, nor could he wait any longer to secure this “happiness”.
“Knew my favorite sister would say that.” Touya couldn’t hide his triumphant expression when he quickly made his way down to your skirt, lifting it up so he could see what’s underneath. Gently, he palmed your groin before dragging his middle finger between your clothed slit only to find that your panties was already soaked.
“Oh? I already knew you were a whore behind your innocent façade but didn’t think you would be this shameless.. Tch.” He clicked his tongue. “Getting all nice and wet for your own brother. You said you wanted to make me happy but in truth, you just need to feel nii-san’s cock inside your hole right? Shameless slut.”
You groaned in exasperation and opened your mouth to protest but before you could even say anything, he ripped your white panties apart, making you squirm in awe. The rough pad of his thumb dragged over your clit while his knees spread your legs wide and held them in places. Touya’s finger slowly rubbed your clit in a circular motion and you couldn’t help but wanting more of those frictions, your hips involuntarily bucked forward.
“I was going to eat my favorite little sister out, but it seems like you can’t wait any longer huh? Look at this little pussy..” He said while using his index and middle finger to swipe at your entrance, gathering your juices on them, his eyes didn’t miss the way it clenched around nothing. “You must be so, so desperate to feel anything inside your pathetic hole, right? Will my fingers be enough to satisfy it?”
“Touya-nii..”
“Don’t be vague, (y/n)-chan. Sure you don’t want to hump a pillow like a dumb slut with her hands still tied while watching me masturbate to the sight of you right? Because if you don’t use your words now, I might let us do that for real.”
“Please, Touya-nii, I don’t want to! I want.. to be filled up by you instead..”
Upon hearing your words, Touya started palming the large bulge of his pants before unzipping the fermeture, gently pulled his boxer down to show you what’s underneath. Your eyes widened at the sight of Touya’s veiny cock. It was not as big as what you usually see on movies (not that you don’t know the porn industry isn’t anywhere near realistic), but rather thin and long as it was hard, practically throbbing in his palm whenever he stroked the shaft. However, what made you surprise was the shiny Prince Albert piercing located on the glans, signaling a hard time in the near future for your cervix.
Seeing your face expression only made Touya’s smirk grew wider and he looked like the cat that got the cream when he continued making you use more of your words, making you beg for his cock.
“And you want to be filled by what?”
As hesitant as you were after seeing his cock piercing, the way his fingers ignited sparkles of fire inside your core had your pride, your uncertainty wavering. You’d rather be fucked until your mouth can’t even form a coherent sentence than be left naked and needy while watching him masturbates until he cums anywhere that’s not inside your pussy. So you used your words, like a good girl should.
“By your cock, Touya-nii! I want you to fuck me hard!”
“Sure thing, my cute little slut.” He cooed. “Who am I to refuse to give my sister what she needs? I’m a good brother after all.”
And as a “good” brother he was, Touya even slide his fingers inside your wet pussy to prepare you for his cock. Despite having a fire quirk like your father, his fingers were cold and were only warmed up by the heat inside your core. They smoothly pumped into you, scissored you open, sometimes even curled up on purpose only to slightly brush against your soft spot, leaving you wanting more. His other hand found its way again on your clit, rubbing and circling along with his continuous fingering until you were nothing but a moaning mess, begging for your release.
He decided that he’d prepared you enough and retreat his fingers just before you could reach your climax. You whimpered loudly when he took the orgasm away from you, legs instantly wrapped around his hips to pull him closer. You had never felt this touch-starved before and all you could think of was only your Touya-nii, his captivating blue gazes, his touch, his voice and his pierced cock that somehow fits perfectly on his slim but toned body. You needed to feel him and you clumsily rubbed your pussy against Touya while trying to break free from the ropes tying your wrists together. But all that you could do wasn’t near enough so you looked up at him with pleading eyes.
“Touya-nii.. Please.. Please give me your cock.. I can’t take it anymore, I need your cock inside me..”
“Fine, since you asked so nicely.” Touya sneered as if he wasn’t the one who purposefully denied your orgasm before holding his cock, rubbing the swollen red tip at your entrance, feeling your juices mixing with beads of his precum then thrusted it all the way in. You both winced the moment you and your brother became one: you from the depth that his cock could go and him from the way your walls clenched around it.
“(y/n)-chan.. Your little pussy feels so tight.. Not that I mind how many people you slept with but damn.. This pussy's a keeper for sure..” Sighing with a shaky voice, he pulled out slowly only to slam back in ruthlessly. His hands used the dagger from before to release your aching wrists then started to rub small circles on them as if to soothe the pain. With your hands now free from bound, you wrapped them around Touya’s neck to pull him even closer, your lips moved under his to meet them in a kiss.
"Touya-nii.. Please move.." After a moment long enough for your pussy to stretch to his size, you broke from the passionate kiss to whisper to him; your tongue softly licked his lower lip, feeling the rough texture while your pussy clenched around his cock. You lifted your hips, inviting your big brother to bury his hot member deeper into you.
"Eager, aren't we?" To your plea, he only chuckled before moving his hand to grab a handful of your tits, squeezing the soft mound, toying with your swollen nipple. "Your wish is my command, my baby sister. Nii-san's going to make you feel really good now." His voice sounded so sensual when he moved his mouth close to your ear, whispered honeyed-words then nibbled at your earlobe, causing you to clench your pussy even more.
Touya's hands traveled down to grab both of your asscheeks, held them tightly in their places before he started thrusting his pulsing cock. "So good.. Touya-nii.." You moaned in rhythm with his hips whenever he bottomed out inside you; his cock piercing rubbed your walls every time he moved. The friction felt heavenly that you could feel your legs started to shake as if you couldn't control them anymore. He was different. His cock was different from anything you'd ever experienced. Touya filled you up so well, both physically and emotionally, making you feel good, feel loved, making tears well up in your eyes.
He let your legs rest on his shoulders as he continued claiming your pussy to himself, each thrust was hard and deep 'til the point that Touya's tip touched your cervix whenever he sheathed his full length in you. It hurt, but it hurt so good that not only did you not want it to stop, you wanted more and more of him, you wanted to indulge longer in this sinful pleasure.
"Fuck.. You're so tight around me.." He groaned as his pace became faster. A hand retreated from under you to hover above your neglected clit before he started stroking it softly, rubbing back and forth, drawing repeated circles onto your bundle of nerves.
Touya didn't leave anywhere on your body untouched: your tits, your belly, your inner thighs, your asscheeks, your clit, your core. His name fell out of your lips between heated moans like prayers and the pleasure kept building up that you felt like you're about to burst into bliss. Everything was so intense and you started to you wonder, is it because he denied your orgasm before or because his cock could actually bring you heaven? Those thoughts crossed your mind but you didn't know the answer. He'd fucked you dumb and now you couldn't think of anything else other than him and the tension deepening in your lower belly.
"Touya-nii.. 'M wanna cum.. Please.. Please let me cum.." You whined when you felt like you couldn't take it anymore, afraid that he would deny it again if you don't beg.
"Cum on my cock baby, let me feel you. And you should be.. Fuck.. grateful that I let you do it.." He didn't stop his assault on your clit as he railed you hard and fast, his thrust grew sloppier when your pussy clamped down on him. Wet noises echoed in the abandoned building along with your whines and the moans that Touya tried to hold back.
"Thank you.. Thank you Touya-nii.. for letting me cum.." was all you managed to choke out before you threw your head back, eyes squeezed shut causing tears of pleasure to fall out and your pussy clenched around him as you released your pent-up pressure.
"Attagirl, nii-san loves you.. Gonna officially mark you now, 'mkay? Gonna breed this little sister's pussy, gonna fill you up with my cum and put a baby in you.." Touya leaned over to whisper into your open mouth, planting chaste kisses all over your face while sloppily humping your body like an animal. You could feel him burry himself deep inside you when his brows furrowed and he muttered "Fuck" before Touya came inside your pussy. His thick ropes were hot as they spilled into your womb, painting your walls with his colour.
A moment passed with nothing but pants as you both tried to regain your breaths. You closed your eyes, basking in the afterglow with his cock still plugged in when you heard the clicking sound of a camera. Your eyes immediately shot open only to find Touya holding his phone in hand.
"Touya-nii.. Did you just.." You warily asked.
"Oh? Did I forget to tell you?" Touya casually looked up from his phone, a smirk tugged at the corner of his stapled mouth and he suddenly looked so strange, as if the person in front of you and the one who just came inside you was two different people.
"You see, there are two possible ways to completely break Todoroki Enji." He began explaining, his voice distant. "One, is to kill his masterpiece Shouto right in front of him by the own hands of his 'failure'."
"And two," His eyes locked with you as his smirk grew wider. "is to let him see his pure little angel being corrupted by the abandoned son." Touya finished his short speech, his hips pulled back so his now limp cock fell out of you with a wet pop. White cum slowly dripped out of your used pussy, all captured by the camera again.
You could see the flame of anger burning in his eyes when he mentioned your father's name and the tone of disgust in his voice when he spoke lowly of himself. There were so many problems that you didn't know where to begin with. All you could do was hang your mouth open, speechlessly watched him typing something on the phone.
"There, all done." Touya cheerfully informed. "Don't worry a thing, my baby sister, no one will get to keep those pictures except for me. I sent them to the old man using Vanish Mode, he'll see them for a few seconds before they disappear forever, just like how his little angel vanish from his life. Oh how I wish I could see his expression when he opens my messages."
You were absolutely stunned. You never thought your dead brother was able to come out alive, let alone to even have a detailed plan to destroy your father's mentality. There were so many things that your mind couldn't process in an instant.
"So you.. So you fucked me just for this?.." Your voice came out shakier than you expected. Your hands unconsciously moved to cover yourself as you hugged your own body, the world starting to crumble in your eyes.
"Partly, yes. But I wasn't lying when I said I love you." Touya planted a soft kiss on your forehead.
"E-Enough with all of this. I'm going home!" You raised your voice and wriggled out of his touch.
"Can't let you do that (y/n)-chan. The world doesn't know me as Touya, you're the first, the honorable one. Can't risk you leaking my secret right? And I plan to torture old man's mind repeatedly with more images of you, just like how he projected everything onto me when I was young." He tilted his head and laughed, and suddenly you couldn't tell whether his laughter was genuine or was an act of mockery. Probably both.
"Besides, I'm a little.. disappointed that my favorite sister actually wants to part so, so soon, especially when we just had a rather.. emotional family reunion, no?" His mood seemed to light up as he continued speaking.
"What.. do you mean by that? Just let me go already! I promise I won't tell anyone!" Tears started to form in your eyes as you slowly realized what the man meant. You were uncomfortable with the room's atmosphere; it's overwhelming you and you didn't want to stay any longer. You looked behind him, trying to figure out an escape path.
"Now, if you wanted to go so badly," - your actions couldn't escape his perceptive eyes - "I'm gonna escort you to a better place, 'mkay? They're gonna track down this place soon enough since I texted him with my phone. But don't you worry, nii-san won't let anyone hurt you, my (y/n)."
Touya had an almost-innocent smile when he approached you with his arms open, as if waiting for you to give him a hug. You backed away, but as stubborn as this Capricorn man was, he still wrapped his arms around you.
Ever since your childhood, Touya's body was warm, Touya's embrace was always comforting. But now, everything he did chilled you to the bone, making you start to shake uncontrollably. Suddenly you felt a sharp prick on your skin; followed by your consciousness slowly slipping away. Your vision started to grow blurry and all you heard before you drifted off was his voice, whispering to your ear.
"Now we won't be alone anymore."
The End.
A/N 2: I hope you enjoyed it! English isn't my first language so please be gentle with me QwQ. Thanks for reading!
#my hero academia#my hero fanfic#boku no hero fic#boku no hero academia#dabi x you#dabi x reader#todoroki touya#todoroki touya x reader#mha#bnha#when i was writing this i was like what is the synonym for d!ck#💀✋🏻#pls breed me touya-nii#i love this man#grr grr arf arf
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maybe some draco angst with prompts 20, 17 & 15 (angst ones)? thank you 🤎
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The Other Potter
summary - after a heated argument, draco finally confesses, or rather shows you, his hidden feelings
pairing - draco x fem reader, mentions of ron x fem reader
house - gryffindor
time period - 7th year
word count - 2.6k
warnings - very angsty, violence and a whole lot of swearing
a/n - ahhh this is my first official post skdjkssjskksjssk !!!! i hope it’s okay i made the reader harry’s sister? i just randomly came up with the storyline and thought it would fit well with your request ... anyways i hope yall like it <3
prompts
“are you going to cry now?”
“you’re scaring me”
“you’re nothing. you hear me? nothing”
"Y/N!" You heard the distant calling of your name amongst the chatter of the mass of students in the Great Hall. Cocking your head slightly forward from your seat at the Gryffindor table, you found the source of the noise as they barrelled into the entrance with a frantic look in their eyes.
"Neville, what's wrong?" You question him, as he flops onto Seamus Finnigan, seated adjacent from you. Seamus furrows his eyebrows at his friend's breathless state, then looking at you with the same confused expression on your face.
Neville audibly heaves for a good minute, catching his breath from the seemingly long run he underwent.
"Harry, he—" His sentence is interrupted by a lengthy inhale of oxygen.
You perk up at your brother's name. A plethora of questions surfacing in your mind. "Harry? What happened? What did he do now?" You stand up, placing both hands on the table as you peer over at the short-winded boy now laying flat on the floor, his chest rising and falling rapidly.
“He ... he—”
"He what?" You persist.
"Courtyard. He's— A-And Malfoy. "
That's all you needed to snatch your bag off the floor and bolt for the courtyard.
You realised you had developed some sort of attraction to the infamous Slytherin Prince around the start of 5th year. Although, you had assumed it was just a phase. In what world could you ever be attracted to the one guy that makes you and your brother's lives a living hell?
So that's what you had concluded it was. Just a phase. One that had seemingly fizzled out once you started dating Ron and now call a silly mishap.
But that wasn't true at all, was it?
A series of scenarios flickered through your head as you begun to wonder just exactly what had happened for poor Neville to nearly faint from shortness of breath to fetch you.
It must've been urgent.
As you reach the Courtyard, a crowd has formed around the oak tree, most likely watching the interaction between the two boys. Your hand finds the wand tucked in the pocket of your robes, gripping it tightly as you push through the cluster of people to get to the front.
He sees you before you see him.
"Ahhh, how nice of you to join us. Now the other Potter's here, we can really have some fun" Malfoy announces. Sniggers erupt from the group of Slytherins behind him as you finally reach the centre of the circle.
Your eyebrows knit together in perplexity. Malfoy is stood in the middle, surrounded by his goons but there's no sight of Harry.
"Where is he?" You snap at Malfoy, hostility lacing your words as you look around the gathered students agitated.
"Y/N, I'm here!" Harry's voice calls from above. At first your skeptic but as you look up, there he was. Floating in mid-air. Along with Hermione and Ron.
"You bloody git. I'll get you back for this Malfoy. I swear—" Ron is cut off by the single wave of Blaise Zabini's wand, effectively silencing him.
"They look rather comfy up there, Potter. Don't you think? Care to join them?" Malfoy pulls his signature smirk, eyeing you up and down.
The hold on your wand tightens as you whip it out and point it at him, stepping forward. "Oh, I wouldn't if I were you. Unless you want a repeat of fourth year? Don't think we all forgot about you running stark naked around the corridors after your little ferret incident."
The crowd bursts into laughter at your witty comeback. Even Theodore Nott couldn't contain his laughter and eventually gave in when he saw the humiliated look gracing Malfoy's face.
Malfoy's gaze on you hardens, his upper lip curling in contempt as he too takes a step forward. If looks could kill, this would be it. He flicks his wand upwards, still maintaining eye contact and you hear the thud of 3 bodies on your left, followed by grunts from the hard contact as he relinquished the golden trio from his spell.
"Yeah? No wonder Weasel left you for the Mudblood. I would too considering what a bitch you are." He hisses with no remorse.
Gasps emit from the crowd at his harsh riposte.
As much as you'd hate to admit it, the comment hit a nerve. You remained civil with Hermione and Ron after having found out he cheated on you with her but the pain was still there. A guilty expression flickered over the couple's faces as they shot you an apologetic look.
"Awww, are you going to cry now?"
Your wand lowers slightly from the impact of Malfoy's insult and he takes this as an opportunity to cast a leg-locking curse.
However, he underestimated you. You managed to block the spell with a simple protection charm before quickly shouting "Expelliarmus!" Malfoy's wand jumped into your open hand in a fleet of a moment and he was left defenceless.
"I may be a bitch but at least I'm not a disappointment. It's obvious that your Father would rather have anyone— hell, he'd even have Harry rather than you as a son" you scoff, narrowing your eyes at him.
You felt a surge of satisfaction when an emotion that resembled hurt flashed across his face. But it went as soon as it came.
Something in Draco snapped. It was one thing to ridicule him in front of his peers but to bring up his Father? Now that was a whole different ball game. Before he could even stop himself, a barrage of insults came pouring out.
"Are you even hearing yourself? At least I have a Father. And I have a Mother. You? You have no one. Your parents are fucking dead, Potter. You don't even have any recollection of them—"
"MALFOY—"
"Shut the fuck up, Potter" He snaps at Harry then instantly directs his attention to you again. "And as for your sorry brother, I don't even see you two together anymore. He'd rather be around the two people that betrayed you—"
"Draco, mate, I think that's enoug—" Theo tugs on Malfoy's sleeve to get him to stop but he's persistent on speaking his mind.
"Piss off, Nott. A-Around the two people that betrayed you than— than a pathetic excuse for a witch. No one likes nor cares about you. You're nothing, Potter. You hear me? Nothing."
Malfoy appeared deranged in the way he lashed out at you, chest heaving from his rant and wild eyes that looked as if he could kill you right at that moment.
But you didn't care.
You were past the point of caring. You knew all the things he said to you were true, you sometimes even thought it. But it felt like a whole new revelation when he stated it aloud. In front of everyone. Soon the whole school would be talking about this.
But you didn't care.
It was then, Draco knew. He knew he messed up. He took in the wide eyes and gaping mouths of his peers around him. Harry's enraged expression. His friends' guilty body language; despite the fact they played no part in the insult.
Then his eyes swept over to you. He had knocked the life right out of you. You looked ... numb. With your faintly quivering lip and glassy eyes, he realised he had overstepped. Usually, you'd retaliate and he would too until you were both separated by your friends or the professors.
Though, this was different. This was overdoing it.
"R-Right." You managed to say flatly but the distress was clear in your words. The tears in your eyes were threatening to spill and you felt sick. Sick to the stomach about the fact everyone had heard and were most likely going to realise that about you too if they hadn't already.
You had to leave. Bolt out of there before you became a weeping mess.
You turned on your heel and made a beeline for the closest abandoned corridor you knew by heart. You couldn't go to your dorm because Harry would find you there and you wanted to be alone for the time being.
You ignored your brother's calls to come back aswell as Hermione's and a few other fellow Gryffindors you had befriended over the years.
Tear after tear came rolling down your flushed cheeks. Each one representing a time you had bottled up those feelings and refused to give into the 'let it all go' mechanism.
The past 2-3 years had been a blur of pain and heartbreak. Ron and Hermione's betrayal had hit you worse than you thought, combined with Harry's absence and the pitiful treatment your friends had been giving you.
"Potter, wait!"
You whirled round so fast at the all so familiar voice. Out of all people, you hadn't expected him to be the one to follow you.
"Leave me alone, Malfoy. Please— Just .... just please leave me alone" Your plead came out in splutters, unable to fully form a sentence with the state your mind was in.
You swivel back round and begin to continue further down the hallway but you don't get far as Malfoy calls after you again.
"Potter, stop."
"WHAT? WHAT IS IT? YOU WANT TO HUMILIATE ME EVEN MORE? IS THAT IT? WHAT DO YOU FUCKING WANT, MALFOY?" You turn, snapping at him.
Through the swelling anger and haze of your tears, you couldn't make out his expression as he stared intently at your face.
"I— I just wanted to—" Malfoy pauses for a second, struggling to find the right words. After a moment, he simply sighs, eyes travelling to your hand. "My wand. You have my wand." He points at your clenched fists that have both his and your wand in it's tight grip.
At that, you feel immensely stupid for lashing out at him. Huffing, you shove it in his hands and collapse against the vacant corridor's wall out of frustration.
You bury your head in your hands and replay the scene that had just occurred. It was humiliating. Utterly humiliating ... but it was the truth.
"Potter."
You started slightly at the sound of Malfoy's voice. You had expected him to go running back to his goons to ridicule your breakdown yet here he was.
"Wh-What are y-you still doing here?" You managed to reply in between hiccups as you kept your eyes wired shut to cease the ever flowing stream of tears. "Would h-have thought you'd ran off and celebrated this v-victory of yours with the other Slytherins."
"Potter, I—"
"No, you know what, I don't even care anymore." You get to your feet and push yourself off the wall. This would only satisfy Malfoy even further; watching every piece of the facade you managed to maintain, crack and fracture. He didn't deserve to see you like this.
As you swivel round, about to make a run to your dorm, you're pulled back by a harsh grip on your wrist. Cold rings digging into your skin as he spins you back round.
"Well, I do." Malfoy says in almost a whisper.
You shoot him a bemused look at his vague and random words.
He takes in your confused expression and further elaborates. "...Care. I mean." He says, flatly whilst looking around you as if he were avoiding your eyes.
You can't help the scoff that passes through your mouth as you yank your wrist free of his grasp. "You? Care? Yeah, right."
You go to turn again but he stops you once more. "Look, Potter—"
"Malfoy—"
"If you would just—"
"No—"
"Listen to me—"
"Why would—"
In a fleet of a moment, Malfoy shoves you against the wall. His large hand wrapped around the back of your head to mitigate the impact. And the other squeezing your hip to hold you in place.
"FOR FUCK'S SAKE, STOP INTERRUPTING ME. IS IT SO HARD TO SHUT YOUR MOUTH AND FUCKING LISTEN TO WHAT I HAVE TO SAY?"
You open your mouth to protest but you're quickly cut off by his hand leaving your head as it drives into the stone wall right next to your face.
"STOP IT. DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND WHAT LISTEN MEANS, POTTER?"
You jump at the abrupt act of violence combined with the volume and harshness of his words.
"LISTEN."
His fist rams into the wall again.
"TO."
And again.
"ME."
And again.
Your eyes screw shut as you let out a small whimper from the proximity of his punches between the wall and your face. Tears escaping and falling rapidly from the fear he had elicited out of you combined with the occurrence that had put you in this mess in the first place.
Malfoy is pulled out of his momentary ballistic rage at the sound of your small and helpless sounding whimper. He had yet again let his temper get the better of him. Culpability overcame him as he took in your cowering state and he instantly regretted spinning out of control.
"Potter." His voice, eyes and grip had softened drastically, completely contrasting his aura just seconds ago.
"Y-You're scaring me." You murmur.
Malfoy instantaneously takes a step back, releasing you from his hold.
Your eyes fly open and immediately register the immense shame etched on his face.
"I'm sorry. I didn't—" He pauses momentarily, sighing to himself before continuing. "I didn't mean to scare you. Or hurt you. I didn't mean the things I said earlier."
It was an understatement to say you were taken aback by Malfoy apologising. You didn't think he even knew how to.
"You're sorry?" You reply, dubiously.
"Yes. I am."
You squint your eyes at him in suspicion, "No, you're not. Why would you be sorry? You don't even care—"
"Fuck's sake, not again." He cuts you off, shaking his head as he pinches the bridge of his nose out of irritation.
You don't understand. What's his angle? Surely, he doesn't really care. Right?
"What? You don't. Or else you wouldn't have—" You attempt to explain your point of view but he interrupts you once more.
"FUCKING HELL, POTTER. I AM SORRY, OKAY? IS IT SO HARD FOR YOU TO BELIEVE THAT I'M APOLOGISING FOR HURTING YOUR FEELINGS?"
A moment of silence passes between the two of you as you stare at each other.
"Yes." You breathe. "I-I just don't understand why you would—"
Before you could even process what was happening, Malfoy has you pinned to the wall anew but this time with his lips pressed against yours.
You undergo a mixture of all sorts of emotions in the time span of a second. Shock, confusion, disbelief and most of all a tiny spark of exuberance.
He gives you little time to melt into the kiss before he's pulling away already and holding your face in his hands.
You've never been this close to Malfoy before, so needless to say you wouldn't have believed anyone if they said Malfoy actually had the most entrancing eyes. Like a storm brewing behind grey clouds, you thought.
"Does that answer your question?" He asks, a smirk creeping up his face.
You can't help the little smile tugging at the corner of your lips as you attempt to mirror his smirk. "Partly, yes."
Without a second thought, you smash your lips against his, hands travelling to his hair as you lightly tug on the ends.
He slightly moans at this and mumbles in between kisses, "You don't know how long I've been wanting to do this."
"WHAT THE FUCK?!"
You both suddenly pull away from each other as you meet Harry's eyes from the end of the hallway.
Shit.
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#draco smut#smutty#harry potter smut#draco angst#angst#angst with a happy ending#harry potter imagine#harry potter#draco imagine#draco x y/n#draco x reader#draco malfoy#hp fanfic#hp fandom#fanfic
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Hiii! I saw that your requests were open and I was wondering if you could do a Genshin highschool au (modern au??? Idk what to call it-) and how Childe, Venti, Albedo and diluc would confess to their crush. Idk I just think it's a cute idea :)
Anyways feel free to ignore! Thanks and have a nice day! Don't forget to eat and drink water! <3
Note: sorry for how late this is but ofc!! thanks for the request and take care as well!
Fandom: Genshin Impact
Characters: Childe, Venti, Albedo, Diluc
Childe
Lost in your own world, you do not notice the red ginger waltzing his way up to the front of the class. Only when you hear audible gasps from the other students do you glance up, surprise coloring your face.
His azure blue eyes are glued to you, mischief lining the corners of his mouth. Today his red locks are slightly gelled nicely, keeping out of his face and accentuating his features all the more. He dons his school uniform well, looking tall and confident up there, despite having everyone’s attention on him. But of course, that is just who he is as a person -- popular with the student population for being the class clown and a great track athlete with those long legs of his.
Which is why you nearly fall out of your chair at his declaration. “[Y/N],” he called out. Pairs of eyes follow to you, making you still as a statue. “I... I really like you. You are funny and strong and brave and better of a person than I ever will be. Will you go out with me?”
The class ‘awwed’, lapping the entire scene in with excitement. You want to facepalm, thinking how stupid he is for confessing in front of everyone. What if you reject him? Goodness. He truly is such an idiot. “No,” you say. You watch his face pale for a moment and the students growing silent. Unable to hold in the laugh spilling from your lips, you prevent the awkwardness from seeping in. “I’m kidding. I like you too, Childe.”
Everyone burst into applause, as Childe hurries to you, wrapping his arms around you. Unlike before, his confidence has faded away, left with a vulnerable boy who is so relieved to not get rejected by the one he loves.
Venti
Sunlight filter through the windows of the music room, casting a sheen past the wispy dust dancing in the air. A young boy with braided ombre locks peacefully sits on the window sill, his legs kicking forth in steady rhythm. Humming under his breath, his teal eyes dart to the door that opened up, instantly brightening up in excitement.
You peek into the room to find the musical genius, Venti. His childlike charisma is found in the corner, his figure soft and beautiful. After having music class with him, you grew quite close to him -- he never fails to make you smile. He is different from others, a free spirit unable to tied down to anything. Never afraid to seek the thing he wants, he has pushed you to do the same.
“You’re here,” he breathed out, soaring down from the high ledge. “Can I play you a song I’ve been working on?”
Beaming, you sit down on a chair and nod. Touched that he chooses you to hear something so vulnerable first, you are more than willing to do anything for him. He is a cherished friend -- one you never hope to let go. “Please do.”
He starts to strum the golden harp he’s holding onto, the melodic sound of it wavering into the room. He starts to sing words of no meaning, clear and pretty to match with the instrument. It mesmerize you from the bat, your eyes gluing the stunning male in front of you. His eyes are closed, but his actions were soulful, as if every note wants to say something to you.
When he finishes, he stops you before you could clap. “Wait,” he whispers, coming closer to you, his eyes rimmed with tears. “I want to tell you a little secret. I like you, [Y/N]. A lot.”
You drop your jaw, blinking in shock at this newfound confession. For a minute, all is silent, the remnant of the song still stuck playing in your head like a broken record. Your cheeks warm and your heart race, and you realize you already know your answer to his confession. “I like you too, Venti.”
Albedo
In the quiet of the library where you can hear a pin drop, you listen to the soft ‘sha’ of the rain pouring outside of the school. It is the perfect day to study with the renown Einstein of the school, Albedo. You lift your gaze up to see him sitting across from you, crystal blue eyes peering down through his lenses.
He has been very helpful lately, always offering to walk you through problems you are stuck on. It makes your insides flutter, taken off guard by his generosity. Stupid you are, you used to assume him to be a prick, just because he is smart. But now you know better... and the more you get to learn about him, the more you want to see him, not just for tutor sessions.
He looks up from his textbook and you flinch back, ashamed for getting caught staring. How embarrassing. Quickly looking back down, you pretend to study, frantically scanning the unreadable letters painting on the page. You stiffen when you hear his voice. “Do you need help on anything?” he asks you. Even making his way around the table, you grow flustered when he bends down, platinum blond hair falling from his sides.
Not only is he smart, but he is beautiful.
He turns to look at you, inquiry coloring his features.
“Oh!” you force out, chuckling a little. “No... I’m okay for now-- thank you though.”
He nods, yet does not leave your side, with brows furrowing in deep thought. “Well, I need help on something. Do you mind?”
Albedo? Needing help? How strange. Did the world just flip upside down. You nod in response anyway, unsure whether or not you can actually help him.
“I can’t figure this out, but why do I feel so nervous around you?”
You pause, heart pounding so loudly against your chest you can hear nothing else. Did this mean...? He couldn’t possibly? But maybe you are too desperate not to voice out the suggestion. “Do you... like me?” you croak out. “Like... like like me?”
He does not respond for a moment, pondering long and hard about it. Eventually, he sits down on the chair next to you, nodding slightly. “I think I do. I like you [Y/N].”
Diluc
He is your bestfriend, your pillar, the one that has kept you true to yourself this entire school experience. No matter what, he is there for you, the one reliable person that hasn’t failed you once. And because he is that, you have grown to love him -- more than just a friend.
Your arm is hooked around the redhead’s broad shoulder, his soft locks tickling you. In that usual ponytail of his, you always admired his looks, for he could pull off long hair unlike most people. Scarlet hues are trained on you, listening intently to the story you are telling him.
Reaching your locker, you release your hold on him and begin to spin the locker combination. It clicks and unlocks and as you try to find a notebook, something else caught your eye. There, laying in the middle, is a delicately wrapped letter, accompanied by a lone rose. When did this get here? Blinking at it in confusion, you hesitantly take it, pulling at the silk that binded the thick paper together.
Dear [Y/N],
you are my best friend, but to tell you the truth, I’ve always longed more from you. Because I have feelings for you, and you only. No matter how many years has gone and come, it has never changed.
-Diluc
You turn to look at your best friend, disbelief coloring your expression. His head is downturn, his ears growing red in embarrassment. Holding tightly to the rose, you stand on your tippy toe to place a kiss on his cheek. “I have feelings for you too,” you breath out.
“You do?” he echoes, his face lighting up like a puppy, yet too awkward to make a move.
“I do.”
#Genshin#gender neutral reader#genshin impact#genshin impact headcanons#genshin impact scenarios#Childe#childe x reader#childe x you#childe x y/n#venti#venti x reader#venti x y/n#Albedo#albedo x reader#albedo x y/n#diluc#diluc x reader#diluc x yn#romance#cute#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#oneshot#scenarios#genshin scenarios#love
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Can I request a scenario with Kuroo, Bokuto, and Kageyama where their s/o is getting harassed by some creep but when their s/o stands up for herself, they're thinking " oh thank god I don't need to kill anyone". BUT when the creep lays a hand on her, all bets are off and they just punch the dude in the face!Cause there's jealousy and then there's pure protective rage!!!
S/O Who is Getting Harassed w/ Kuroo, Bokuto, and Kageyama
Warnings: cursing, mild nsfw themes
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Kuroo
“Kitten, I’m waiting~”
“Keep it in your pants for a second, will you?” You laugh, your shoulder supporting your cellular device as you hold it up to your ear, shuffling around in your bag to find your wallet with your occupied hands. “I still cannot believe you put me in charge of ice cream duty.”
“It was to prove that me calling you up in the middle of the night means cuddles and anime!”
“So not a dick appointment?” You joke as your finished getting rung out, the woman behind the counter giving you a strange look as you flinch at the fact that you had actually said that in front of another person as Kuroo’s laughter is heard audibly at the other end of the call. Bowing deeply in apology, you rush out of the convenience store as you breathe in the air of the late-night soothingly to calm your embarrassment.
“I’m gonna come to meet you halfway, alright kitty?”
“In your car?”
“No, in a fucking spaceship. Yes, in my car.”
You roll your eyes, a smile still on your face as you begin your trek in the desired direction as your sassy boyfriend seemed to be getting impatient.
“I can just skip and not meet you for this appointment you know-”
“It’s nOT A-”
You hum in satisfaction as you end the call, walking along the street in search of Kuroo’s vehicle when an instant feeling of being watched sends a shiver down your back. Your hands straighten your clothes as you glance behind you, unsurprised yet uneasy at the sight of a man seeming to stare you down, eyes raking shamelessly upon your figure.
Kuroo’s brows furrow as soon as he turns the corner, not having parked far as he sees you looking behind you worriedly, seeming to engage in a uneasy conversation with the stranger before you.
The greasy grin on said stranger’s face had Kuroo’s feet moving before he could think, but the captain stills when he sees you scoff, crossing your arms heatedly at whatever he had said. Now within a hearing range, Kuroo smirks as he leans against the wall as you tell the creep off, hands finding home in the pockets of his red jacket.
“Can you maybe go crawl back into whatever dump you and your nasty-ass teeth came from?”
Kuroo’s grin only widens as you roll your eyes and walk past him seeming to be fearless, even shoving your shoulder against his in the process as Kuroo goes to call out to you to enforce the leave of that creep immediately-
“You bitch!”
but red flooded his vision as soon as a hand was lain on your bare shoulder, spinning you around roughly as an audible squeak of fear and surprise slips your lips, reeling his arm back-
And then Kuroo’s feet were really moving.
Kuroo shoved the guy off you with a snarl on his features, eyes spinning dangerously as your boyfriend delivers a sharp knee to his stomach, sending your attacker to the ground in less than a minute. The smile that spread on Kuroo’s lips was anything but kind as he lifted the now fearful man up a few inches by the shirt, mock-kindness in his eyes.
“I’m sorry, care to repeat that for me again?” The polite words held such a menacing edge as Kuroo grit his teeth, feeling you place a hand on his back soothingly.
“Kuroo, let’s go.”
“No. Someone’s gotta teach this prick what happens when people lay their hands on my girl.” Kuroo lets go of his shirt, grinning when he hits his head on the street before lifting him back up again, ignoring his groan of pain. “And that someone’s gonna be me.”
“Tetsurou.”
Kuroo groans at your strict tone as if you had interrupted his playtime, fist unclenching around the stranger’s shirt as he makes a hasty escape, tripping himself over in the process before dashing away.
“Look at me listening to you, princess.”
Kuroo’s eyes held a pissed-off edge to them as he takes a strand of your hair, running his fingers through it before kissing the strand with closed eyes. Your mouth goes dry when his cat-like eyes open again, staring at you as if you were his favorite posession before cupping your face, leaning closer with a grin that wasn’t happy.
“Just how tight do you have me wrapped around your little finger?”
You clear your throat, shifting in place as the moon seems to illuminate Kuroo’s stare, feeling his eyes bore into you as the strand slips from his fingers, his breath beginning to mix with your own.
“Tight enough, apparently.”
“Just... come cuddle and watch anime with me?”
“Yeah, we’ll have our appointment, whatever- but kiss me first.”
And so he did, anger fading away in the movement of his lips against yours, draining away completely when he feels your smile against his.
Even if it wasn’t an appointment.
Bokuto
“Bo, I’ll be fine, I promise!”
“Do you pinky promise?”
“I- there’s like a 7% chance something will happen to me in the five minutes you’re gone.”
“That’s 6.9% too much.”
“Bo, I’m hungry.” You whine, grinning as you win the argument that was hardly an argument, seeing Bokuto’s eyes widen a little in worry before puffing his cheeks out, spinning on his heel in the direction of your desired food stand.
“You win this one!”
“I usually do!” You call back, shaking your head at Bokuto’s protective tendencies. A rare off day the two of your shared had wound the two of you at the mall, a day’s worth of shopping sitting at your feet as your golden-eyed boyfriend bought you lunch from the food court. You hummed, scrolling on your phone as you patiently waited until the sound of someone clearing their throat caused you to lift your head.
Well, looks like you’re going to need to recalculate that percentage.
“Someone as pretty as you should never be sitting alone in a place like this, hm?”
“I’m not alone, though!” You chirp fakely, unknowingly causing the boy to press on, taking the seat that was reserved for your spiker boyfriend as you blanch.
“Nice excuse, sweetheart- but that won’t work on me.”
You clench your jaw, praying Bokuto wouldn’t return just yet and throw a fit you knew he was bound to throw as you offer a strained smile at the smirking boy.
“I’m actually waiting for somebody-”
“I don’t see them, though?”
Bokuto stills, hands tightening around the tray holding your food subconciously at the scene before him, scenarios drifting through his head on what approach would make you the least mad at him. Cursing him out? Perhaps spiking the lunch tray at his head? That is, until-
“Do you not understand what waiting means, or does nothing occupy that space between your ears?”
“Feisty.”
“Grow the hell up.” You plaster a smile as you flick him off, crossing one leg over the other for effect, causing your pursuer to rise to his feet in a now ticked-off manner as Bokuto grins, eyebrows raising in surprise.
The grin fades as the asshole uses his thumb and forefinger to pinch your cheeks together harshly, the uncomfort apparent on your expression as you glare heatedly up at him, a crowd beginning to form.
“Pretty girl with a dirty mouth, huh? That can be arranged-”
A tap on the shoulder.
“Do you know what else can be arranged?”
“Who the hell-”
He never gets to finish his sentence as Bokuto grabs him by the shoulder, ripping him off you and reeling his own arm back before delivering a punch so hard to the guy’s jaw you swear you could hear a few cracks. The crowd was definitely beginning to get bigger as Bokuto pays no mind, cracking his knuckles as the guy who put his hands on you looks up into the golden eyes of a pissed-off ace, the grin on Bokuto’s face borderline deadly as gold begins to darken.
“Who am I?” A humorless chuckle that could have been almost considered kind. Bokuto tilts his head innocently as he ignores the bruising on his knuckles, leaning down to ask an equally innocent question.
“Take a fucking guess.”
You gasp at the headbutt delivered next, causing your pursuer to groan and fall backwards, Bokuto unfazed before realizing you were now holding him back before grabbing your hand, collecting your bags and your food in a hurry as he tugs you along, ignoring the flash of the cameras and gasps of the crowd. You have to hold him back from turning around for more in your effort to leave.
“Just one more punch-”
“Trust me, that was plenty.”
It isn’t until you reach the parking lot when Bokuto finally stops, holding your hand so tightly it almost feels icy numb, not knowing what to say as his golden eyes turn to you, as if he was trying to hold his anger back. You hear him drop all the bags he’s holding as you hug him quickly, burying your face in his chest as the ace immediately relaxes.
“God, stop being so pretty.” He finally mumbles into your hair, and you let out a laugh of relief as he calms down.
“Right. So maybe not 7%-”
“Y/N?”
“Yes, Bo?”
“Never leave my sight, please?” Your heartstrings tug at the crack in his voice, now determined to prevent his emo mode on your day off.
“That’s a lot to promise.” You find yourself whispering back, pulling back a little to cup his face gently as Bokuto’s forehead touches yours. “But I’m so thankful you showed up when you did. You know what I can promise, though?”
You smile at Bokuto’s head tilt, feeling the ace impatiently trace his lips along your neck as you giggle, feeling the atmosphere lighten as Bokuto pouts when you pull back with a question-
“Car sex?”
Bokuto’s pout is replaced with an excited grin, for this boy worships your body 10000%.
“I thought you’d never ask, baby! Get in for the ride of your life!!”
“Just because I feel bad for your bruised knuckles- I’ll let that pun slide.”
Bokuto smirks as he kisses your forehead, winking at you through the window after closing the car door for you as the day’s events already begin to fade-
being replaced with something much more important.
Kageyama
“...you sure you’re okay?”
“Of course I’m okay! Why wouldn’t I be? I’m dandy.” Kageyama snaps, causing Hinata to back off with both arms raised in the air as a sign of meaning no harm. The blue-eyed boy grits his teeth from his spot on the sidelines of the court, pissed that the game was starting and he had no way of defending you from the creep sitting by you in the stands.
Kageyama relaxes a little when he sees you switch seats with an offering Kenma, thankful for his fellow setter for once as his blue eyes meet your bright ones.
The tension in his face and body drains at your smile, mouthing an I’m okay, do your best! as Kageyama returns his focus to the match just as it starts. Knowing he can’t lose concentration, especially when you’re watching, is hard- considering you were wearing his jersey number and the shortest skirt he had ever seen on you- a promise for something special you had mentioned if he won today’s match.
He had a little bit of a clue what that could be.
The match went smoothly with your genius-setter boyfriend playing at his top-game for a reason no one would ever pinpoint as you can’t help but giggle from the secret behind his determination today.
What you were wearing was for him, but a certain someone didn’t seem to understand that.
Kenma cast you a worried glance as he raises from his seat as he looks amongst the filled seats, trying to find one for you to sit in as he has to go start to warm up.
“Y/N-san, what if you go to the other side?”
“I’ll be fine, Kenma!” You assure him, ignoring the smirk of the guy who had previously started to talk you up. “I’ll probably go stand at the railing.”
“Mm. That’s probably best- stay safe.” Kenma nods, sparing a warning glance to the scum next to him as if to enunciate his point before taking his leave as you walk up to the railing that was mostly unoccupied. You cheer for Kageyama as he scores quick after quick, thinking you were now in a safe manner.
But you weren’t.
Kageyama tilts his bottle upside down to drink down the liquid as soon as the match’s victors are declared Karasuno, the raven-haired boy wiping his mouth as he scans the crowds for you and your expected cheering form for his win, but what he saw had the setter moving quickly despite the ache in his legs. His teammates look on in worry before realizing the situation from a distance.
“Please leave me alone, sir, I came for one of the players today-”
“Why have one of these boys when you can have a real man?”
Kageyama jogs into hearing distance- stopping at the rare, cold edge your tone took on before starting again.
“Did you not hear what the hell I said, or are you hard of hearing you old geezer?” You keep your smile on, failing to notice the familiar raven-haired boy beginning to deadass climb the railing. “And real men leave girls alone when they ask.”
“Come on, play nice~”
You barely have time to flinch when his hand goes up your skirt, and it’s suddenly gone as soon as it does.
Kageyama was surprisingly calm as he pins the man to the railing, blue eyes spinning with an emotion you had hardly seen before as he holds both hands behind the guy’s back, using his other hand to bow his head down to the ground.
“Just where the hell do you think you’re touching?” Kageyama seethes as you smile at his sweaty appearance, seeing the man struggle as the rest of the Karasuno team jogs up to the stands as a commotion begins to break out, Suga asking if you’re okay as Daichi and Asahi both take the pervert from Kageyama before the setter can do something rash-
“Oh, before you take him-”
You flinch when Kageyama reels his fist back to clock him right in the nose, gasps filling the stands as Kageyama wipes the blood off his knuckles with the end of his jersey, whistling lowly at the cuts on his fist.
“Alright. You can take him now.”
Kageyama ignores the scold of his captain as he grabs you by the forearm, tugging you away as you wave a hasty goodbye to Suga as you follow him all the way into the empty hall, spinning you around so he can hold your wrists together with one hand.
“I’m really, really pissed.” Kageyama whispers, blue eyes hardened as you swallow when your back touches the wall, your eyes darting everywhere but on him. “Do you mind?”
“D-Do I mind what?” You stutter when the setter’s lips touch your neck, sending chills down your spine when he speaks against it, his own hand sliding up your thigh.
“Use my anger in the little reward you promised me?”
You laugh out loud, taking a handful of his raven hair before tugging it back with a smile on your features, kissing him sweetly with other intentions.
“Get me alone first, dummy. Good job on winning!”
“And-” Kageyama’s voice drops an octave, uncaring of anyone entering the hall as his other hand slides up under his jersey that was adorning your body.
“I want to cover anything that bastard might have left on you.”
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Enigmatic Feelings II
Characters: Beidou, Childe, Eula, gn!reader
Word Count: 5,402
Warnings: Swearing
Premise: In which the reader’s s/o is jealous
Author’s Note: Decided to tack on two characters to the request. This is my first time writing for Eula, and I think this prompt really fit her. She really reminds me of Kaguya Shinomiya in mindset, which is kinda hilarious. I hope I wrote her well!
In case you’re wondering, I kept all the NPCs gender neutral so that the reader might interpret them as they wish.
Beidou
Beidou and her crew tended to get drunk. Like, a lot. Rowdy parties soaked in alcohol, audible from Guyun Stone Forest to Qingce Village were simply part of ship culture. Though they might’ve been loud and somewhat disorganized, there was never any sense of overstepping boundaries, and things never ended up going too far.
Or at least that’s what Beidou would’ve liked to think. Watching you and another shipmate moseying up to one another was a surprisingly unpleasant experience, and Beidou took another swig of her flask to wash out the acidic taste in the back of her mouth.
What did it even matter if someone was flirting with you? It was the end of a long haul, emotions were running high, and everyone knew that you were the captain’s partner. Everyone knew that nothing serious would come of a little flirting, and the occasional compliment or teasing remark towards you here and there had never really bothered Beidou before. She wasn’t about to be jealous of a few flirty shipmates; after all, the ability to sweet talk should probably be a requirement for signing up for piracy anyways.
Maybe it was just how blatant the flirting was, so different than the usual passing, good-natured banter. Beidou knew how well each of her shipmates could hold their liquor. She also knew how quickly norms and rules tended to be thrown out the window the moment one got plastered. Even if the shipmate meant nothing truly malicious or devious in their words, Beidou couldn’t rule out the fact that they were probably genuinely flirting.
Neither could she ignore the fact that you were distinctly flirting back. Beidou wasn’t really surprised by this turn of events, after all you’d always responded with a good natured tease at the remarks flown you way and even engaged in some meaningless flirting yourself towards the other members of the ship. It was part of ship culture after all, to be so open and careless. The sea was never calm or placid, why should her voyagers be so? Still, Beidou couldn’t deny the fact that she was uncomfortable by the current situation, protocol be damned.
A part of her wanted to go up and tell you right out; you were her partner, and she was sure that you’d be able to understand what she was feeling. Yet pride kept her at her seat, downing more liquor to distract herself from her conundrum. After all, it’d be kind of hypocritical of her to cultivate a familiar ship culture and then turn around and revoke it at the drop of a hat, wouldn’t it? Nor would it feel right to enforce rules upon others that she herself didn’t follow. It’s not like Beidou hadn’t ever flirted with or teased someone else without thinking too much about it. How could she blame her crew for following her example?
Still the sight of you and your shipmate danced in front of her eyes, urging her to do something she’d surely regret. Beidou let out a loud sigh, something that wasn’t ignored by the people around her.
“You alright captain?” Juza eyed Beidou worriedly. One of the other hard drinkers on the ship, Beidou knew that she couldn’t rely on alcohol to allay her Chief Mate’s worries.
“I’m fine!” She spoke loudly, plastering a large grin upon her face. “I was just thinking about how proud I am of all of you! How much of a tight-knit crew we are!”
Beidou could tell that she was garnering the attention of the rest of the shipmates and stood up. She had neglected to make a speech so far, so wrapped up was she in the scene playing out before her eyes. Clearing her throat Beidou held up her flask, the eager anticipation of her crewmates combining with the liquid fire in her system, causing a wave of rash confidence to run through her. At least she was an entertaining speechmaker.
“I look out upon the faces of warriors now! We may be somewhat irregular, an anomaly of the seas. However, that doesn’t change our bond, our fierce loyalty, our capabilities. I look out upon a group of people closer than family! Perhaps you’ve had brothers and sisters and aunts and uncles, but tell me this! Could any of those members of your previous lives fight back to back with you? No! They could not! We are a special breed, and there will never be anyone who can understand us as we can understand each other! And we ought to never forget this! Do not forget the brotherhood forged by fire. I know that I never will!”
Cheers erupted from every corner as sailors drank gleefully. A few of the more out of commission crewmates were sobbing uglily, hugging whoever was in their vicinity and making slightly incomprehensible statements of affection and loyalty. Beidou sat down, smiling at the chaos in front of her. Yes, she really was part of a band of brothers, and there was no reason to forget or doubt that. Why was it then that she felt as if she’d been somewhat deceitful? And why was it then that her eyes once more drifted towards you and the sailor who was now enthusiastically slapping you on the back?
The rest of the night passed in a haze of alcohol, as Beidou downed drink after drink. She didn’t walk up to you, didn’t try to acknowledge the source of her unease. Why should she? It was a party after all, and there were other things to do. Passing out just as the sun was beginning its ascent once more into the sky Beidou wondered if she was always going to feel this way when anyone got slightly flirty with you. If so, well, she was in for a rough time.
The next day was greeted by a pounding headache. The sun was much too bright, and Beidou let out an annoyed yelp as she stumbled towards her window, trying to not fall flat on her face as she grasped for the curtains. Yanking on them awkwardly she had just managed to get them somewhat closed before there was a knock on her door. Cursing the captain drew herself up as much as she possibly could in her current state, hoping that her clothes didn’t look too much like she’d simply slept in them.
“Come in.”
“I thought you might want a pitcher of water.”
Your voice was soft and slightly apologetic. Letting out a sigh of relief Beidou nodded, allowing herself to stumble back towards her hammock and flop onto the blanket. Wow she had drank a lot last night. You walked over to her desk, steps too steady to be that of a hungover person. Pouring a glass of water you stared at Beidou as she drank, a question in your eyes.
“What is it? You seem to want to ask me a question.”
“Are you sure you’re up to answering?”
“Well now I won’t be able to rest until you tell me it.”
“Fair enough,” you smiled. “Was something wrong last night?”
“Whaddya mean?”
“I mean you didn’t even walk over to me once. I was kind of surprised, to be honest.”
“Sorry about that.”
“It’s fine, I just want to know why you were avoiding me.”
“I wasn’t avoiding you.” Beidou wrinkled her nose. Her head throbbed in protest and she quickly dropped the expression, sighing before taking another drink of water. “Well, perhaps I was slightly avoiding; but it’s wasn’t your fault.”
“Whose fault was it then?”
Beidou paused, trying to gather her thoughts as she searched for an answer. “You know that I don’t mind some familiarity on this ship.”
“Yes, as you so eloquently put last night,” you giggled slightly. Ignoring the subtle tease Beidou continued on.
“Well, I mean it; but it seems like I’m not very good at following my own rules. That shipmate you were flirting with last night? I just, I don’t know. Normally I don’t mind, y’know? But this time, well, it couldn’t stop bothering me. Even though you didn’t seem to mind it at all.”
“I didn’t mind it because he was drunk off his ass.” You pointed out, voice still soft and understanding. Taking one of Beidou’s hands in yours you leaned over to press a quick kiss on your partner’s forehead. “I’m sorry to hear it was bothering you though.”
“It’s not just that,” Beidou admitted. It seemed the floodgates of her thoughts had opened, and now she felt the need to tell you everything. “It’s that I couldn’t even follow my own rules, that I couldn’t stop myself from feeling… almost resentful. A captain, a good leader, they follow their own rules. It’s the only way to whip all the idiots into shape. But I couldn’t do that, I failed last night; I failed as a leader, I failed as a partner. I couldn’t follow my own example. Some leader.”
“You’re being too hard on yourself,” you murmured. Squeezing Beidou’s hand you shook your head slightly. “I know that the people on this ship sort of see you as a goddess, which you are, to me at least. Still, even goddesses can sometimes have flaws. Besides, if a shipmate ever came to you with these fears you’d absolutely laugh it off, give them a pat on the back, and send them on their way. So maybe you should follow your own example in that way. Don’t beat yourself up about it.”
Beidou’s gut reaction was to contradict you, to point out once more how she had failed. However she was too tired, and your point was making a suspicious amount of sense. “Very well,” she smiled slightly, “you have a way with words darling. You sure you haven’t missed a career as a siren?”
“I already have a lovely sailor, thank you very much,” you giggled. Pressing soft kisses across Beidou’s cheeks you stood up. “Now drink a lot of water and get some rest. We can’t have our captain out of commission.”
“I trust I’m not the only one sleeping in today?”
“Oh definitely not! It’ll probably take a week before we’re in any shape to treasure hunt again.”
“Pity.”
“So greedy!” You gasped in fake surprise.
“As if you didn’t know that when you signed up.”
“I don’t know I never pegged you as the jealous type,” you said in a sing-song voice. Beidou felt her cheeks redden.
“Shaddup.”
Your laughter filled the cabin, bright and rejuvenating. Beidou couldn’t help but crack a small smile herself. How had she ever gotten so lucky in regards to her partner? Regardless of how, she wasn’t about to take you for granted.
Childe
Childe liked to think of himself as one of the “good ones” when it came to Harbingers to work under. Was he somewhat demanding and only expected the best when it came to combat? Well, yes. Did he regularly debase his coworkers and underlings? No, he wasn’t Scaramouche after all. As long as you were passionate in your drive to serve the Tsaritsa and as long as you never missed out on your training, well Childe was sure that he could never have a problem with you.
That was, in fact, not true.
One of the Fatui messengers had been talking to you for almost twenty minutes now, though about what Childe hadn’t the slightest idea. After all, he’d already gotten the message that he needed, and the messenger surely had no business with you – you didn’t even work for the Fatui. Still there the messenger stood and there you stood next to him, a small smile on your face as you let out a soft laugh in regards to whatever they were saying.
Childe knew that he had no reason to feel as he did, but that didn’t stop irritation from rising inside him, and a sudden urge to flaunt his superiority that he usually reserved for the field of battle rose up inside of him. He didn’t quite understand why he was suddenly struggling against the urge to run up to you and throw his arms around you, but the urge was certainly there. What in Teyvat were you talking to that messenger about? What could possibly take up so much of your time? Considering the small fragments of conversation that made it to his ears Childe ruled that it was nothing truly of importance.
Letting himself lounge even more across his office chair Childe let out a slight sound of annoyance. Weren’t the two of you doing something before the nuisance came along? Sure, it wasn’t necessarily the most important thing, but discovering the best place in Liyue to study the stars was hardly worthless. After all, being somewhere high up and with a good view meant a better survey of the land around you. Who knew when some pesky Millelith or intrepid adventurer might try to attack the Fatui members scattered across the plains and mountains in Liyue? It was imperative to have eyes on everything, certainly more important than whatever this was!
Finally giving into his rising irritation Childe walked over to the two of you. Slinging an arm around your shoulder, Childe tried to give the messenger a smile that didn’t convey ‘scram or I’m kicking you out’. “I’m so sorry to interrupt, but my partner and I have business to do and I’m sure that your other messages won’t deliver themselves. To the Tsaritsa information is everything and all that, so you should probably make sure people actually get said information.”
“Oh, uh, yes my lord. I’m sorry.”
The messenger pulled himself up straighter, giving an awkward bow. Turning to go the messenger didn’t fail to turn back around to give you one last smile. Accentuating his smile once more Childe finally detached himself from you as the messenger walked out of the office, shutting the door softly behind him.
After that the messenger seemed to be showing up everywhere. Childe could’ve sworn he was getting more mail in a week than he had in all his previous months in Liyue. Not to mention how awkward the timing of the deliveries seemed to seemed to be. What was the point of getting “important” mail right before the Bank ostensibly closed? What was Childe supposed to do with the information now? Never mind the fact that the letters and notes he was getting seemed to be getting more and more mundane, even nonsensical. A shipment of weaponry to be picked up, that might be important. But specifications on the renovations Dottore was making on his lair? Why would Childe ever need to know something like that?
Nor did it escape Childe’s notice that these messages always seemed to come with at least twenty minutes of conversation with you. How was the Harbinger supposed to concentrate when someone was yakking away in his office? Besides, what did it matter to you what this person’s favorite flowers were? Childe knew that the Tsaritsa was often quite ingenious in her schemes, but he truly couldn’t see what relaying someone’s favorite flowers could do? Had he mentioned before that you weren’t even a member of the Fatui?
Every day the messenger would endlessly chat with you about the stupidest things, and every day Childe would end up interrupting the two of you. What started with slinging an arm around your shoulder was slowly escalating. First it was an arm, then two, then an arm around your waist, then a head on your shoulder. One time he’d even pulled you right against him, smiling slightly as you let out a squeak of surprise.
Of course Childe knew what he was experiencing, was not necessarily unfamiliar with the concept of jealousy. Still, he wasn’t about to tell you about it. After all jealousy was a shallow, grasping sort of emotion; something that caused generals to fight against one another to approach him or the Harbingers instead of tending to their own troops. Jealousy was a useless sort of emotion, and not one that a warrior such as himself ought to feel. Besides, did he really need to feel jealous about an annoyingly persistent messenger? They were hardly above a weed in the hierarchy of things.
Still, Childe couldn’t exactly deny that he was feeling jealous. Avoidance was one thing, deceit was another. Even if he didn’t want to tell you about what he was feeling, he would never lie to you about it. Which is why at the end of another tedious twenty minute conversation when the messenger had finally left and you turned around to ask him if something was wrong Childe found himself frozen, stuck between quite the rock and a hard place.
“Why would you ask such a question darling? Does something seem wrong to you?”
“Childe, please. You’ve been clingier than barnacle recently. Are you even supposed to be at the office today; weren’t you supposed to inspect an outpost in Dragonspine today?”
“I just wanted to spend some time with my wonderful, amazing partner! Is there something wrong with that?”
“For you? Yes, there absolutely is. Childe, are, are you upset about something?”
Childe stared at you for a moment, crumbling under your persistent gaze. He could tell that you were worried, could tell in the slant of your mouth and the furrow of your brow. He couldn’t very well say no. That would be lying after all. He was upset about something, even if it was something utterly beneath him. He was still upset.
“That messenger has been annoying me.”
“The one that just left?” You turned to look at the closed door behind you, a puzzled expression on your face. “But why?”
“Isn’t it obvious? They’re flirting with you.”
“They’re not!” Your expression was incredulous, but you paused for a moment, obviously thinking about something very seriously. “At least, I don’t think they are. Are they?”
“Yes,” Childe let out a snort. “I can’t believe you didn’t notice. Why else would they be delivering the most worthless information before chatting with you when they should be somewhere else?”
“I guess you’re right,” you admitted. “But Childe, it’s not like I’d ever be interested in them. I mean, I can see how it’d be kind of annoying to have someone invade your personal space, but why the clinginess?”
Childe stared at you for a moment. “You’re kinda dense you know.”
“I’m not!”
“Oh you absolutely are. How else would you not realize that I’m jealous?”
“Well, well because I don’t know. You just don’t seem the jealous type. Besides, it’s not like I’d ever have interest in anyone other than you. I don’t know, I just don’t see the point.”
“You really are dense.” Childe smiled a small, frustrated smile. Letting his head drop into the crook of your neck he let out sigh. “I know that there’s no reason that I should’ve be jealous. I just, am. I don’t know why, but seeing that messenger flirting with you for days on end, I couldn’t help it.”
“Hey, it’s alright.” Your tone shifted slightly as you reached up to card gentle fingers through Childe’s orange locks. “Sometimes we’re just weird like that. Just as long as you know that you never have reason to be jealous, then you can be jealous sometimes. Alright?”
“Alright.” Childe whispered, finally letting himself relax a bit.
Raising his head he pressed a soft kiss to your lips. You let out a small purr of happiness, gladly reciprocating. The weight on the Harbinger’s chest lightened, and he was finally met with the feeling of lazy contentment.
“Now, don’t you have an inspection to attend?” You smiled indulgently. “Go on, I’ve got errands to do anyways. As much as I appreciate the attention, you have to lessen the clinginess, okay?”
“Can’t make any promises darling.”
The sound of your indignant squawk, combined with Childe’s laughter, chased him out of the room and down the staircase.
Eula
As a member of the esteemed Lawrence family Eula was confident in the fact that such base emotions as jealousy were utterly beneath her. What did people take her for? A commoner? What a presumptuous line of thought!
No, it was certainly not jealousy that Eula was feeling right now. What a preposterous notion. She was simply irritated that a Guild member had forgotten all respect due to the Knights of Favonius. After all, you were a part of Mondstadt’s frontline protectors, a far cry from those poor fools who relied only upon commission to prove their worth. Yes, it was simply how presumptuous that lowly Guild member was being, taking up your time on your patrol across the parapet of the wall surrounding Monstadt, to engage in such a frivolous act as flirting.
Surely there was nothing more to it? No, it was not even worth it to pose such a stupid question. After all, what was a lowly adventurer to Eula? A nuisance, perhaps, but nothing more. Certainly nothing to be worried about. There was no reason to pause at the tower door, no reason not to simply walk over to you, her partner and coworker. Your time on patrol was done, it was time to come in. Why then was she hesitating?
“You must love the view up here,” the adventurer smiled widely.
“Yes, it’s very nice!” You were all smiles.
“I’m sure it’s made all the more beautiful by your presence,” the adventurer pressed on.
“Ah, t-thanks,” you replied, smiling again and reaching to grasp the back of your neck. “Really, you’re too kind.”
“Not at all!”
The adventurer appeared to want to say something else, but Eula had long ago decided that things had gone too far. Who did this mere Guild member think they were?
“Your time is up soldier, you are needed in the afternoon meeting.”
Eula tried to keep her posture as correct as possible, looking straight past the interloper to you. You seemed to brighten, rushing over to Eula and nodding enthusiastically.
“Eula! Of course! I’ll be down, right this instant.”
“Good,” Eula replied, giving a curt not. Glancing over towards the adventurer she crossed her arms. “As for you, layawaying a knight of Favonius is a blemish upon the Adventurer’s Guild. Such a discretion surely must be paid with vengeance. Mark my words, I will not let this deed go unpunished.”
The adventurer stiffed. Taking a step towards Eula their face contorted into a snarl. “Listen here you Lawrence –”
“We’ll be going now!” You jumped in, glancing at you Eula nodded. Turning around she kept her features neutral. However she noticed the way you gestured apologetically at the fool before going to follow Eula, expression one of undeniable embarrassment.
Perhaps it was too much to hope that the adventurer might’ve learned their lesson. There they were the next day, standing right in front of you, acting as if yesterday’s squabble had never happened. Talking your ear off just as before Eula couldn’t help but frown at how they were to you, how they always seemed just about to brush their fingers against yours. How crude to do such a thing to a perfect stranger.
“Dear, is everything alright?”
Your voice snapped Eula out of her reverie. The two of you were walking towards Headquarters to grab your extra equipment before heading home. Normally Eula cherished such quiet moments, feeling like they were the few times when she could be utterly confident, utterly herself. This time however she found the events of the week pressing on her. Only managing to nod Eula quickened her pace slightly, as if to outrun the feelings that were growing inside her.
“Hey, is something wrong?”
Eula lifted her gaze away from the papers she’d been halfheartedly scanning, her eyes meeting Amber’s. Eula would be the first person to admit that she wasn’t exactly sure how she had become friends with the eccentric Outrider. Indeed most of the things about Amber on paper grated Eula quite a bit. Still Amber was probably Eula’s closest coworker – other than you – and closest thing to a best friend that Eula had. It was perhaps unsurprising that Amber should notice something was wrong, and Eula was almost pleased by the fact that Amber was concerned about her.
“Nothing of great importance,” the knight replied. “There is only a nuisance which has been taking up a great deal of time and seems to still be interfering, despite all my efforts.”
“What kind of nuisance?” Amber tilted her head. Eula looked away, staring at the shelves that lined her office. She didn’t really want to look her coworker in the eyes.
“A, human nuisance. There has been an adventurer from the Guild who has been taking up a great deal too much of my partner’s time. They are utterly too presumptive in familiarity, and I feel that they are jeopardizing the Knights of Favonius with their irresponsible actions. Yet, despite all my efforts, they refuse to rethink their devious ways. It is no small problem.”
“That does sound very unpleasant.”
“Indeed, and yet I know not what to do. My reprimands have fallen on deaf ears.”
“Have you thought of maybe telling your partner.”
“Why would I ever reveal such feelings to my partner?!” Eula whipped her head around to look at Amber. The smile on her face was somewhat self-congratulatory.
“Eula, can I ask if you’ve considered something?”
“What is that?” Whatever Amber was about to say, it wasn’t going to be good.
“Have you considered the possibility that you might be jealous?”
“What, what nonsense! As if I should ever fall prey to such, to such base sensibilities!” Eula felt her face redden. Finding a particularly dirty spot upon the ground Eula stared intently past her friend. No, surely Amber was wrong.
“If you say so,” Amber shrugged. “But you might want to think about it. I mean, if I were feeling jealous I’d want to tell my partner. Besides, isn’t it the duty of a knight of Favonius to be honest and true?”
“You’re taking this awfully seriously,” Eula mumbled.
“Maybe,” Amber smiled, “but I do care about you. Remember that.”
With that the Outrider grabbed the paper she’d presumably been looking for and walked out the door before Eula could think of any sort of comeback. Turning her gaze back to her work Eula let out an exasperated sigh. Vengeance would be required against her coworker for such a ridiculous suggestion.
It was beginning to get on evening as Eula raced towards your regular guard spot. She’d worked later than usual today, probably spurned on by irritation at Amber’s ridiculous suggestions, and now Eula hoped that you hadn’t given up waiting for her and decided to go home. Climbing up the stairs her mind drifted once more to what Amber had said. Jealous? A member of the Lawrence clan was jealous? No, it was surely ridiculous. I mean, sure, she found the majority of her family members repulsive and vain and lazy to a fault, but surely she had to take something out of all the time she had spent within their midst. Besides, appearances had to be kept up, if only for the song and dance that the other people of Liyue insisted on continuing, long after it had stopped being of any use.
And yet, if she really was jealous, which of course she wasn’t, wouldn’t it be right to tell you? It was these thoughts that chased Eula. As she reached the top of the stairs to the opening of the parapet she decided that, if Amber’s theory were somehow proved right, she would tell you. Luckily, or perhaps unluckily, the familiar silhouette of an adventurer meant it was the perfect time to figure this question out.
“It’s pretty late, isn’t it?”
“Yes, I suppose it is,” you smiled. “Still, Monstadt must be guarded day and night, mustn’t it?”
“Ah yes, the Knights must do all they can to protect our glorious city. Still, would there not be another reason for you staying up here so late?”
“Not particularly,” you shook your head.
“Are you sure about that?” The adventurer leaned towards you. Eula once more felt her heart seize up with that now all too common emotion. Was this jealousy?
“Uhm, I’m pretty sure.” The more that Eula had watched this song and danse the more she had realized how awkward you seemed around this person.
“Oh come on, a lonely figure looking out from on a wall, it’s sounds pretty story-like doesn’t it? Then again, you are straight out of a fairytale.”
“Thanks,” you replied, laughing somewhat awkwardly.
At this point Eula had come to a decision. Regardless of what this emotion was, and she was becoming increasingly worried it was, in fact, jealousy, you still seemed to be somewhat uncomfortable. Walking out onto the parapet she took your hand, glaring at the adventurer which stood across from you.
“I see you are once more distracting one of the Knights.”
“They didn’t mind, did you?” The adventurer’s mouth screwed up into something resembling a sneer. When you said nothing they shook their head. “You just had to come and make everything awkward; typical of a Lawrence member to be such a pain in the ass.”
“And now you insult one of the Knights! Indeed, the punishment will surely be great; and, until I decide what punishment is to be meted out, I suggest you take your leave.”
“You can’t tell me what to do!” The adventurer sputtered, but Eula merely smiled.
“Indeed I can. If I find you harassing one of our Knights one more time, know that I will not be so lenient as to merely give you a warning.”
“I wasn’t harassing anyone!”
“Distracting them then, making them unable to perform their duties, being a public nuisance. Do any of these serve you better?” Eula waved her hand. “Not that the terminology matters at this point. What matters is that you stop your current behavior.”
“Please just listen to what Eula says,” you piped up. Smiling a small smile you walked over to the adventurer. “I know that you were just trying to flirt, but I think that you should shoot your shot elsewhere now. Okay?”
The adventurer looked slightly red in the face, though whether it was embarrassment or anger was anyone’s guess. Slinking away, grumbling something under their breath, the Guild member was soon down the stairs and out of sight.
Sighing loudly you turned to Eula.
“Thanks for that. I mean, really! I don’t think they were trying to be actively malicious, but really sometimes you just have to read a room! I’m just glad I didn’t have to break it to them by myself.”
Staring at the stones under her feet Eula found herself mumbling something.
“What?”
“It, it wasn’t for your sake.”
“Ah yes, I know, it was for the honor and glory of the Knights of Favonius! Still, thank you.”
“No, I didn’t mean that. It was that, well, Amber’s been talking to me.”
“Amber?” You tilted your head, evidently confused by the sudden turn of the conversation. “What was she talking to you about?”
“About a very foolish emotion, one that I would never dream of feeling myself. And yet, I, I do believe that maybe, just maybe mind you, it had a factor in, in my actions.” Unwilling to come right out with it Eula found herself frowning. “The audacity of her really, to imply that a member of the Lawrence family might experience something as base as jealousy!”
Looking up towards you Eula saw recognition pass over your features. For a moment you did nothing, then suddenly a small, soft smile broke out on your face. Walking over to Eula, you gently enclosed your partner’s hands in yours.
“Thank you for telling me Eula, I’m sure it must’ve been difficult.”
“I-I’m not sure about it yet!” Eula stammered. “Only Amber wouldn’t stop talking about it.”
“That does sound like Amber,” you let out a soft laugh. “Still, thank you for telling me. It means a lot to me, okay?”
“A-alright.”
“I’m glad.”
You leaned over to give Eula a quick peck, before turning to walk down the stairs. Eula followed, one of her hands still intertwined firmly with yours. Suddenly her heart felt lighter than it had all week.
#Genshin Impact fanfiction#beidou x reader#childe x reader#eula x reader#genshin impact#genshin beidou#genshin childe#genshin eula#requested#scenarios#my writing
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Baby Boy Chapter 1 | Lando Norris
Summary: Milana Navratilova is the best friend of Victoria Verstappen, and is for lack of a better word, a minx. She can pull anyone into bed with her at any time. So when she attends the Austrian Grand Prix with Victoria, the drivers make for good bedfellows. Until she finds a man who makes her finally feel like herself. Her baby boy.
Warnings: smut, swearing, non-con kiss (will be a chapter warning for that one), OC is a w h o r e and i love her.
Milana Navratilova sauntered into the paddock of the Austrian Grand Prix, an impressed smile curved the ends of her maroon painted lips, the dark, seductive eyes of the woman flicked between each face she passed. Those same eyes lit up in adoration when they fell on the back of her friend whom she constantly referred to as a wife. With an extra skip in her step, she pranced toward the taller girl, approaching a group of three or four men who were facing her friend, and in turn, her as well.
“Hey baby girl.” Milana greeted in a husky voice, the long nails and slim hands slid around her target’s waist, holding her in place while the rest of her body rested comfortably against her back.
“BABE!” Victoria Verstappen squealed, her arms reaching over the grasp Milana had on her waist to pull her best friend into a hug. Victoria leant back, her hands sliding along Milana’s jaw to cup her face within both hands. The two leaned in at the same time, connecting their lips in a slow kiss. The gasps of the men who Victoria was conversing with was audible over the hustle and bustle of the paddock. The women parted, giggling as they did so, hands holding tightly onto one another.
“Vic, who’s this?” The heavily accented voice of Victoria’s brother, Max, was the first to break the tension.
“This is Milana, she’s my best friend. I told you my friend Lana was coming this weekend, remember?” Victoria introduced, smiling back at her friend multiple times during.
“Yeah, I guess I just thought she’d be more like, y’know, Ella or Josie.” Max mumbed, his face a light pink colour and a very readable expression of awkwardness on his face as he watched the beautiful woman wrapped up in his sister’s arms.
“So, less like a slut?” Milana suggested, a cheeky grin on her face as Max’s face instantly went into panic mode. “Calm down, sweet cheeks, I was kidding. Mostly.” Max blushed harder at the pet name the Czech woman had given him. It wasn’t anything awfully special but falling off those lips, it sounded like heaven.
“So, uh, your name is Milana?” A French voice sounded next, cutting the awkward silence that Max had left hanging.
“That’s right, mon cherie, Milana Navratilova, ready and willing.” She added the last word with a wink and a smirk curled the right side of her dark lips at the flustered expression on the man’s face.
“Charles Leclerc, it’s a pleasure to meet you, petit friponne.” The Monegasque answered with an equally suggestive response, and from the flicker of recognition within her dark eyes, he could tell she understood the phrase he spoke.
“And you two?” Milana turned to the remaining men, there were two of them, one rather tall and the other shorter, though still a good six inches taller than herself.
“I’m George, and this is Lando.” The tall Brit could already tell that his younger friend would have trouble saying his own name in front of the woman that had completely enraptured him.
“George, aren’t you a darling. And Lando, I hate to be rather forward, but you are the most gorgeous man I have ever laid eyes on.” Milana’s voice got huskier as her sentence trailed off, her eyes taking in every detail of the young driver’s physique. The way his shoulders were pulled back and taught despite his nervousness, she could tell he was muscular beneath the white polo. As his breath caught in his throat and his body tensed, Milana could see the muscles of his arms bulging against the sleeves of said polo, the material digging into his skin due to being put under so much pressure. The tanned skin that was visible from the short sleeve allowed her to also trace the visible veins that ran down his forearms with her eyes, her mouth going dry as she imagined those veins bulging as he struggled against restraints around his wrists.
All of a sudden, a Cheshire cat-like grin spread across Milana’s lips as she turned back around to Victoria, who had been staring at her friend with amusement. The other three men stared incredulously at the short woman, who had called Lando the most gorgeous man she had seen, even after meeting George and Charles. None of them could believe the scene that was unfolding before them.
“As lovely as this has been boys, I think I need to get this hot piece of ass back to our hotel room before she starts trying to pull you three into our bed.” Victoria explained, her hand briefly coming down to smack the aforementioned ass, and she cackled with laughter as she walked away from the boys, all of whom looked like they just left Disneyworld,
“Gonna point out the obvious here boys, but she is hot.” Max growled, his eyes following the way the tight skirt hygge the curve of her ass with the swaying of the Czech’s hips. The other three nodded, entranced in a very similar fashion to their colleague.
#lando norris#lando norris x reader#team lando#lando norris x oc#lando norris fanfiction#lando norris smut#mclaren f1#formula 1#f1#f1 fanfic#call me eden
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