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brenbofen · 7 months

Note

GAASPPP OMGGG VINCE I JUST GOT AN IDEA OH GOD

priest+exorcist reader x demon dottore holy FUCK ive always had a thing for sacrilege... religious corruption and shit like that... fallen to worship you instead, to open his eyes to the one true god, one who owns him, one who would give him salvation, one who graces him with blessing though he has ugly horns and tattered, blackened wings, one who will love him as supposed to the father above, one who would send him into eternal bliss

make him bite onto your rosary while you fuck him full, kiss on his horns, his scars and mumble sweet nothings like a prayer,, or call him things that sends shivers down his spine, make him claw at your skin while u punish him for his blasphemy, for his heresy... make a demon like him, violent and mad, into nothing but a slut for ur cock that will bring him into a realm of pleasure, something he deems as heaven...

basically taming this dangerous blood thirsty demon by fucking him to oblivion while being a the kind hearted priest u are 😇

oh god is this good for the monster theme??? I THINK I GOT CARRIED AWAY MY BAD... anyways take your time and have fun!!!

⤷ Sweet Words ✝︎ AMAB Preist Reader x Demon Dottore > Monster Luvrs Event

Vincent’s ramblings ଳ i couldnt hold myself back and am posting tbis a day early, im sorry guys 😞😞 also got a bit excited while writing this lawll

Featuring; Religious themes, degradation and praise, body worship, reader gets a little mean, spanking mentioned, belly bulge, multiple orgasms, slight p.rn with feelings??, biting and scratching, petnames (love, my love, baby), cumflation, Let me know if I missed anything!!

You always noticed a particular individual in the back of your church. Every sermon he’d watch you, whenever you’d look away you could feel his gaze burning through you. However, he never seemed to care for what you said. When the choir would sing or church goers would gather for a group prayer, he’d stay seated in his little corner, never moving until your sermon was over.

You had also began to receive an influx of reports about demons. More than enough times would you find yourself within the residents of your small village’s homes, searching for a demon that always seemed to evade you. No matter where you went or how early you were informed of the demon it always moved on to another location by the time you arrived. It was frustrating.

Currently you were in your office reading through documents and signing paperwork, tiredness clawing at your mind. You sighed, gently setting down your quill and resting your chin against the palm of your hand. Work was beginning to impede on your sleep. You would spend long nights searching for that demon, then you’d return to your office to count donations and send off documents, tonight you finally got a break, only a small stack of paperwork to go through then you could rest.

You were so out of it you almost missed the knock on your office door. Quickly you stood from your chair, smoothing out any wrinkles on your clothing as you called out for “Just a moment.” Upon opening the door you were stunned, it was the man in the back of the church!

He wore a bird like mask that covered the top half of his face, you noted the only thing not hidden was the bright blue hair framing his face. He gave you a meek smile, bowing his head slightly. “I apologize for disturbing you at this hour.” He spoke softly, barely parting his lips as he did so. You waved him off, telling him it didn’t bother you and stepping aside to let him in.

He nervously walked into your office, looking around before settling on a chair you motioned to. “Please, take a seat.” You sat in the chair across from him, you saw how the man sat awkwardly, almost as if something were preventing him from sitting comfortably. “I can’t thank you enough for letting me in.” He folded his hands neatly in his lap, tugging on the fabric of his gloves. There was this odd giddiness in his voice as he spoke, a sickly sweet smile on his face as if he were trying to contain his excitement.

You nodded, asking him why exactly he came, the hours for confessions and personal prayers were over. He frowned slightly, tilting his head to the side.

“I wished to… see you.”

You laughed nervously, running a hand through your hair as you leaned into your seat. “I’m sorry?” You were confused, why would he not wait for when you weren’t working? The man shifted in his seat, hands gently curling around his hood. You bit your tongue as he pulled the hood down, revealing curving horns that sprouted from his head.

He was a demon. He was the demon you had been searching for.

You immediately shot up from your seat and stumbled over to your desk while keeping your gaze on the demon, your hand slid across your desk as you searched for something, anything, to protect you from the creature before you. He pulled his mask off, bright red eyes almost appearing sad as he moved closer to you. “Please don’t be afraid, I mean you no harm.” You had your back pressed against your desk as the demon’s gloved hand gently, so, so gently, grabbed your wrist. “What do you mean you ‘mean me no harm’? You’ve destroyed homes! You’ve killed people damn it!” The demon sighed, lips parted just enough to show you his sharp teeth.

He was so close to you. You could feel the warmth radiating from his body, his breath hitting against your neck as he leaned even closer. “I know I’ve done those things… but I only wished to grab your attention.” He brought his other hand to your hip, holding you in place. “I just was too afraid to face you when you’d come looking for me.” The demon pulled back to look you in the eyes, both hands now resting on your hips.

“So what do you want… uh—”

“Dottore.”

“—Dottore?”

The demon— Dottore smiled at you, releasing a soft sigh. “I’ve seen you with the church goers. You’re so kind to them, helping them with mundane things, giving them advice and even resources.” Dottore tilted his head to the side in thought, “So much kinder than any god may be… I know it may be foolish but, I hoped you could share a bit of that kindness with me?” You looked at Dottore like he was mad, a demon asking for kindness from a preist? He really was foolish.

But, you didn’t want to turn him away.

If you did, it might mean he would return to terrorizing your village. You brought your hands to the clasp of his cloak, “Very well. You may stay here while I figure out what to do with you.” You removed Dottore’s cloak, watching as his dark wings fanned out, fluttering slightly from his giddiness. He gave you such a big grin, burying his face into your neck as he spoke soft thank yous like a mantra. Such an odd creature he was.

No one could fault you for wanting to have a bit of fun with him, right?

You now had Dottore nude as he leaned against your desk, your hands trailing up his body, his clothing discarded somewhere in uour office. He had been staying with you for a few weeks now, and you couldn’t help yourself from playing with a pretty thing like him. He would’ve never thought the sweet preist of a church in a small village would have such dirty fantasies. He bit back any teasing remarks as you buried your face into his neck, he wouldn’t want to make you upset. Not now, not while you were being so sweet to him.

You pulled your hands from Dottore and smiled at him, squeezing his sides before taking a step back. “Turn around for me, love.” Dottore did just as you asked, shivering when your chest pressed against his back. You were able to slide your fingers into Dottore easily, chuckling when you heard him bite back a whine. “No one’s here but us, you can be as loud as you want my love~” Dottore nodded, groaning as your fingers slid in and out of his hole. You wondered if he was still stretched out from the previous night or if he had a bit of fun without you.

Dottore’s wings fanned out around you as you dug the pads of your fingers into his sweet spot, a loud moan spilling from his lips. You basically had all of Dottore’s body memorized, able to make him feel pure bliss anytime you were alone with him. He adored how you’d kiss his scars, telling him how he was such a lovely thing as you’d slowly finger him. The way you’d laugh in his ear at his moans and whines, teasing him for how easily he’d melt in your hands. But he loved how easily you’d switch from being sweet to mean.

Anytime you’d harshly slap Dottore’s ass, saying such degrading words to him as you rammed your fat cock into his tight hole, it was heavenly. Dottore would always have his head thrown back, desperately clawing at anything he could get his hands on as you’d pump load after load into his greedy hole. The way you’d laugh in his face when he cried after you pulled out to watch your cum spill out of his puffy hold, clicking your tongue at his pleas for you to keep fucking him and fill him back up. Oh, and how once you finished you’d kiss his marred face gently, praising him for being so good to you before cleaning him up.

He loved you, so, so much. Could you blame him for worshiping you and your body like a god? You surely didn’t mind.

Dottore was ripped from his thoughts by you pressing your fingers basically knuckle deep into him, crying out as you made scissoring motions inside of him. Dottore didn’t even notice the drool beginning to spill from his open mouth, desperately squeezing his eyes shut as you drove him to his first orgasm of the night. He heard you gasp slightly, Dottore whimpering as you pulled your fingers out. “You’re so sensitive today, how cute~” You squeezed Dottore’s ass then took a step back, admiring the demon bent over your desk.

Dottore could hear you unbuckling your belt, wings fluttering as excitement bubbled in his chest. You always thought it was adorable how his wings would flap when he was excited. You stepped forward once you pulled our pants and underwear down, rocking your hips and sliding your dick against Dottore’s ass. He whined at the feeling of your length dragging against his skin, pressing his face against your desk.

Dottore mumbled your name softly, so quiet you almost didn’t hear him. “Please turn me around, I-I want to see you.” You laughed at Dottore’s request but did as he asked, turning him around so he was now straddling your hips. You reached up and wiped the drool on his chin, smiling when Dottore leaned into your touch. “You ready?” You repositioned yourself so the tip of your cock was pushing against Dottore’s entrance, chuckling at his flushed face as he nodded, gaze trained on your throbbing dick.

You pushed your hips forward, Dottore biting down on his lip as you shoved your length inside of him. You were so big for a human, your sheer size and how wide you stretched him out making Dottore’s mind feel fuzzy. There was a constant flow of praise from Dottore as you pushed yourself deeper into him, slight tears beading in his eyes from the stretch. No matter how many times he took you he could never get used to your size. He didn’t mind though, a part of him loved the pain.

Once you were fully sheathed inside of Dottore you pressed a hand to his stomach, pressing against the bump in his tummy, laughing at the whine he let out. “It’s me~” You cooed, Dottore rolling his eyes, both of you knew this attitude was just a little ruse he put on at least try and protect his ego before he would go an moan like a bitch in heat on your dick.

Gently, you began to thrust in and out of Dottore, giving him a moment to adjust to your movements. Though, it wasn’t long before Dottore would be begging for you to move faster and you could never hold yourself back for long when you’d see Dottore’s pretty face, expression showing nothing but pure bliss.

You leaned forward and roughly kissed Dottore, something to distract him as you picked up the pace of your thrusts. He groaned against your lips, clawed hands finding home in your hair as you pushed your tongue past his lips. Dottore moaned as you pulled away, feeling you do a particularly hard thrust into him. “You’re clenching so tight around me, mhmm.” You trailed your hands up Dottore’s torso as you spoke. Dottore nodded nodding, only able to focus on the feeling of your cock forcing his body to make room for it.

It was funny, you, the sweet priest having a deadly demon that caused havoc throughout your little village only weeks later becoming your sweet cock-slut.

You pushed Dottore’s hair from his face and kissed the base of his horns, Dottore humming as he leaned against you. He was so clingy, always craving your touch. It would be cute, if not for the snarky remarks he’d say once he was satisfied with your attention. Dottore’s claws raked down your neck and settled onto your back, nails digging into your shirt.

You rested your chin on Dottore’s shoulder, the man shivering when your breath hit his ear. “Careful not to tear my clothes, I have a meeting later.” Dottore nodded, grip loosening just barely. You squeezed Dottore’s hips, grinding against him, pulling little whines from him. You did this for a bit, Dottore about to snap at you, wanting you to move just a bit more, only for you to stop all your movements and make him beg for you to just do something.

You weren’t sure how many times you repeated this routine before you got bored and began pounding into Dottore. He laid back onto your desk, arms covering his face as he leg out the sweetest moans, thighs squeezing and trembling around your hips as you fucked him.

You leaned down and kissed the scars covering Dottore’s body, mumbling praises against his soft skin, relishing in the little protests that escaped him between his moans. No matter how much you told Dottore he was beautiful, how often you gold him you adored every part of him, he would curse and bite back, saying you were insane for loving him so much, but he never made the decision to leave. Never would he reject you when you’d hold him in your lap and shower him with praise and affection.

Dottore gripped your arms tightly, claws digging into the fabric of your shirt and tearing it. What a shame. “You ripped my shirt.” You gazed up at Dottore, seeing the pout that formed on his lips as little tears prickled in his eyes. “Hahh, am I fucking you so good you forgot my directions?” You pulled out fully then snapped your hips against Dottore, the man crying out as his back arched off your desk. “So stupid n’ drunk off my cock you can’t even follow a simple order?” Dottore babbled out apologies, pulling his hands away from your arms as he cried, but you knew he liked it. He adored how quickly you’d go from praising him to degrading him, treating him like he was some cheap whore.

You scoffed at Dottore, squeezing his hips to draw his attention back to you. He looked at you with the prettiest red eyes, seeming as if they sparkles in the dim lighting of your office from his tears. “Clothing can be replaced, ‘m just disappointed you couldn’t hold back for just a little longer.” Dottore frowned, mumbling out a small “sorry.”

You knew he wasn’t sorry.

You sighed, leaning forward and kissing Dottore, feeling his hands rest on your shoulders, no longer caring if his claws tore your clothing. You began to bite and mark Dottore’s neck and shoulders, taking in all the little whines he released right by your ear. You groaned when you felt Dottore clench down around you, biting his neck to try and suppress your own sounds.

He felt so good around you, so tight and warm, you could never get enough of Dottore. You hummed, feeling your orgasm drawing closer and closer, mumbling in Dottore’s ear. “I’m gonna cum, you’ll let me, yeah?” You harshly kissed Dottore, teeth mashing against teeth, your tongue feeling along his sharp teeth, “You’ll let me cum in you, baby?” You smiled when Dottore let out a weak “Yeah.” leaning forward and kissing him once again, your thrusts becoming fast and uneven, only thought in your mind being how badly you wanted to fill Dottore up.

You pulled away from Dottore’s lips and pressed your forehead against his, letting out an airy moan as you released inside of him. Dottore came shortly after, rolling his hips against you as he rode out his high, his head thrown back as he gripped your shoulders tightly. It wasn’t long before you were moving again, now harshly thrusting against Dottore, never letting up as you stuffed your cum deeper and deeper into him, filling him up to the brim. You could see his tummy becoming round and almost appearing bloated with how much cum you stuffed into him, some of it spilling out with each of your thrusts.

Dottore couldn’t complain, not when he felt so good and was so fucked out. He might have wanted to make some snarky remark, tease you for always wanting to fill Dottore up so you could watch your cum spill out of his hole, but at this point he couldn’t. The only thought on his mind was how good he felt, how amazing it was to be filled with your warm cum and how he loved your dick inside of him. Dottore honestly wasn’t quite sure how many times he had cum himself, only focused on you filling him.

You sighed after releasing in Dottore, not sure just now many times you had. Stumbling back, you pulled him into your lap as you sat in your chair, running your hands though his hair. Dottore pressed his face into your neck, gently kissing and nipping your skin. “You’re always so clingy when we finish.” Dottore scoffed, pulling away so he could look at you, wings stretching out behind him as his back popped. “Shut up.” His voice was hoarse, tears and drool dried on Dottore’s face, he didn’t seem to care though.

You shrugged, wrapping your arms around Dottore and pulling him into a hug, playing with his hair and occasionally petting his soft wings, Dottore humming against you. “How long until your next meeting?” You glanced at the clock on your wall, humming to yourself as you thought. “Few hours, why?” Dottore smiled, leaning up and biting your jaw. “That’s good, I want you all to myself for a bit.” You chuckled at Dottore’s words, kissing the base of one of his horns. “I told you you were clingy.” Dottore scoffed once again but didn’t speak, simply burying his face into your neck.

#— events: monster luvrs #— vincent’s stories #genshin smut #dottore smut #dottore x reader #sub dottore #dottore x male reader #genshin impact x male reader #genshin x reader #sub genshin #genshin impact smut #il dottore smut #sub il dottore

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milaisreading · 7 months

Note

Crossdresser!Y/N having a bunch of fangirls flocking them when there out in shibuya post U-20 match, and the other bluelock players getting jealous

🌱🩷: thanks for the request! Here u go, I hope u like it🫶🏻

Warnings: Reader is she/her, just crossdressing as a guy. The boys address her as he/him tho. Requests for this series are open

⚽️Blue Lock belongs to Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura ⚽️

"Can you two stop daydreaming and concentrate?" (Y/n) and Isagi looked at each other, then watched as Ego scolded Bachira and Otoya for not listening to him.

"They can be funny at times." (Y/n) noted with a soft smile as Isagi agreed, laughing a little as they went to warm up. The stadium was already filling up with people, which made the Blue Lock team more nervous, even the ones who were usually more confident or laid back.

'I hope my parents aren't here...' (Y/n) thought as she stretched. Isagi looked over at his training buddy, a little bit concerned for the way she was acting.

"Everything alright?"

"Oh? Yeah, I am fine. Just pre-game jitters." (Y/n) said simply as Isagi raised an eyebrow.

"You sure? I have seen how you act during the 2nd and 3rd selection, even during the game against the World 5. You were a lot calmer than you are now."

'Busted!' (Y/n) flinched.

"Well... I am just hoping my parents won't be here... or my brothers."

Isagi tensed up a little, having heard about the strikers family weeks ago. They left a sour taste in his mouth, the way they forced his friend to be someone she wasn't.

"Don't worry." (Y/n) looked up at Isagi he held his hand in front of her.

"They won't come near you. You have the team and me to protect you." The girl smiled at the ace, not regretting letting him in on her secrets... even the one about her crossdressing.

'Isagi.' She was about to grab the boy's hand, when another's hand grabbed hers and quickly pulled her up.

"Gagamru?! You scared me!" (Y/n) shrieked at the goalkeeper, who nervously smiled at her.

"Sorry, but we need to get in line." The goalkeeper said, ignoring the glares he was getting from Isagi.

'Serves you right for hogging all of (Y/n's attention. He should be focusing on me- I mean, the game!' Gagamaru thought as he let go of her hand.

"Let's go you all. Ego will be on our asses if we don't hurry up." Otoya said lazily as he grabbed one of (Y/n)'s shoulders.

"Oh? Yeah, you guys might be right-"

The striker spoke, and then got interrupted by a bunch of screams from the benches.

"What even?!" Isagi yelled in surprise as the four saw a group of girls waving at them.

"Does anyone know them?" Gagamaru wondered.

"No... maybe those are your fangirls, Otoya-" but Isagi's suspicions proved to be wrong as the girls finally yelled out (Y/n)'s name.

"Ahhh! (Y/N)-SAN LOOKED AT ME!"

"GOOD LUCK, (Y/N)-KUN! I BELIEVE IN YOU!"

"THE BLUE LOCK UNIFORM LOOKS GREAT ON YOU!"

"CAN I PLEASE BE YOUR GIRLFRIEND?!"

The (h/c) haired girl was left in utter shock and embarrassment as he heard the girls, trying to laugh it off nervously. But Otoya and Isagi, who were agitated by the words took each of the striker's arms and started pulling him away from the girls, Gagamaru was left behind to send them a distasteful look.

'What a group of weirdos... (Y/n) deserves better.' The goalkeeper thought.

'No way will I let a bunch of nobodies get to him...' Otoya's glare deepened.

'I will protect you, (Y/n).' Isagi thought, deciding to make some small talk as they approached Niko, Chigiri, and Karasu, who heard the commotion and were all equally annoyed.

"Oi, donkey." Barou approached the group, scowling at the (h/c) haired striker.

"What?"

"Focus on the game. Not the girls." Barou said, sounding a little jealous as he got out of Otoya and Isagi's grips.

"You act like I asked for the attention." The girl rolled her eyes.

"Stop being mean to (Y/n)-kun, Barou. It's really unwarranted." Bachira said with an agitated smile.

"Yeah, tyrant king. Come on, (Y/n)-kun, I should tie your hair before the game starts." Chigiri said excitedly, pulling the girl to the benches.

"Slow down, Chigiri." The girl warned as Niko trailed after them.

"Can I brush your hair?" The youngest asked timidly as Otoya and Bachira ran after the trio. This left both Isagi and Barou staring down at each other.

"What are you trying to do, donkey? (Y/n) has been my partner since day one, why are you so fixated on having her for yourself?" Barou whispered the last part, fully aware that Isagi was the only other player who knew (Y/n)'s secret.

"You might have been her partner during the 1st selection... but don't forget who she picked in the 2nd and 3rd. She picked me, and I would pick her as my partner any day. Besides, king, she trusts me with way more secrets than you." Isagi said smugly as Barou grew more and more agitated.

'Just what does he mean by that?!'

After the game ended with Blue lock's clear win, the team was given a few weeks off and they decided to spend one day together in Shibuya... well, nearly all of them. Hiori, Kurona, Nanase, and Niko sadly couldn't join them. And Rin flat out refused after everything went down. After the attention he should have gotten from his brother went towards Isagi and (Y/n), the captain couldn't stand being around them for a while. But, the duo paid him no mind, too lost in their own world.

The day itself started off calmly, as they all went to a nearby arcade, and everyone was lost in some form of game. (Y/n) was playing a dance game with Yukimiya, Karasu and Otoya as a group of girls approached them... well, they were more there for the (h/c) haired striker.

"E-excuse me." (Y/n) tensed up as someone pulled on her hoodie and she turned to look at one of the girls.

"Yes?"

"Can... can we take a few pictures with you, (L/n)-kun? We are huge fans!" The blonde girl and her friends nodded their heads. Shyly, the striker nodded her head, still a little uncomfortable with all the attention.

'Wonder how this will end once it comes out I am girl.' She thought as each girl took a picture with her.

Meanwhile, Karasu, Otoya and Yukimiya stared at them in jealousy. Nobody should have the striker's attention now, except for them that is. Karasu pouted as one of the girls touched the other's hair, complimenting as to how soft it was.

'Stop touching him!'

Otoya's eye twitched as another girl asked (Y/n) what her ideal type was.

'Definitely not you.'

Yukimiya fixed his glasses as another girl how the two of them would make a beautiful couple.

'Absolutely not.'

The trio looked at each other and nodded their head. They made their way to the group, then Karasu and Otoya stood on either side of the flustered striker as Yukimiya decided to stand protectively in front of him.

"I am so sorry, but we need to go now." The model said as politely as possible as Karasu and Otoya started dragging her away while a satisfied Yukimiya followed after them.

"That... that was quite something..." (Y/n) laughed nervously as the trio softly smiled at his laugh.

"Yeah, it was~" The trio said.

The 2nd incident during the day happened at

a local karaoke bar in Shibuya. It was a pure coincidence that Chigiri opened one of the rooms of the karaoke bar, only to find the U-20 team inside. So now Chigiri, Bachira and Isagi were having either some sort of arguments with them or trying to calm everyone down... well, more like Isagi and Miroku were.

"Aiyah... what a day..." (Y/n) muttered as she watched everything unfold from the outside, when a door from behind her slammed open, revealing to her surprise two enraged women yelling at someone inside.

'What the hell?!' She thought, shaking a little as the women kept on yelling, not noticing her and the others staring at them in disbelief. They didn't look older than 20 by (Y/n)'s observation, then she turned to look around the hallway. And to her horror, everyone was looking at them.

"P-please, calm down." (Y/n) started speaking softly, causing the two women to stop and look at her on confusion.

"I... I am sure whoever is inside did mess up, but they aren't worth your yelling or anger." The girl said nervously, hoping she didn't offend them.

"Huh?" The shorter haired girl stopped for a moment, observing the striker's face. The long haired one widened her eyes for a moment and walked up to (Y/n).

"You are that striker from Blue Lock? (L/n)-kun?"

"Uhm? Ye-yes, ma'am." She said nervously and bowed. The two women squealed at that and were now on each side of her.

"The goal was amazing! The way you knew your way around the U-20 team was very interrupted to watch."

"Why didn't you give an interview? We would have loved listening to you!"

"A-ah... there was nothing much for me to say... besides, Isagi was the one who brought us victory." (Y/n)'s face flushed from how close the two women were and she backed away a little.

"So humble~" The sighed dreamily.

"How are you still single?"

"Well-" (Y/n)'s words got interrupted as Bachira wrapped an arm around her shoulder, pulling the girl closer to him as Chigiri and Isagi tried to play it nicely while shielding her from the two girls.

"Please don't make (Y/n) nervous... he is very shy around girls." Chigiri smiled as kindly as possible, but inside he was fuming.

'Back off.'

Bachira kept quiet, but intensely stared at the two older girls as his grip around (Y/n) tightened.

'My monster won't allow any of you to take him from me.'

Isagi was the only one somewhat calm, as he knew that (Y/n) wasn't looking for anyone yet. But the starstruck gazes she was receiving from the two were quite annoying.

'She is my training partner...'

The 3rd incident that day happened at a nearby bowling alley, where the Blue Lock team and U-20 team agreed to have a final friendly match for the day. Although (Y/n) wasn't much found of the sport, she agreed anyways as the boy's were excited for another friendly match. During the preparations, Aryu, Tokimitsu and her walked into Barou, who was bowling by himself as a group of girls was watching him.

"Barou? What are you doing here? I didn't know you were a bowling freak." (Y/n) asked in amusement as Tokimitsu panicked a little from the irritated stare Barou was sending the trio.

"Shut your mouth! I just like playing it from time to time."

"Now now, Barou. Yelling at someone as glam as (Y/n)-kun isn't really nice." Aryu sent him a warning glare.

"Yeah... it's really unwarranted." Tokimitsu added in, and to (Y/n)'s surprise he didn't stutter.

"It's ok, you two. I don't mind."

"How I speak with my training partner is none of your concern, Aryu." Barou said calmly as Aryu glared at him more.

"P-please calm down. We shouldn't fight in front of him." Tokimitsu warned them and the two looked at him for a moment.

"You are right..." Aryu sighed and flipped his hair.

"I can't lose my cool in front of (Y/n)-kun. He looks up to me-"

"He does not." Barou rolled his eyes. Tokimitsu sighed and looked back at (Y/n), only for his face to fall as he saw the girl's surrounding her. They were either asking him quite personal questions or just asking for a picture. Aryu and Barou's looks also fell a little as they saw the scene. Neither of the 3 liked this. After all, (Y/n) was their teammate. The trio looked at each other and nodded their heads, deciding to save the obviously uncomfortable striker from that mess.

"That was an eventful day." (Y/n) yawned as her, Nagi and Reo were on the train back home. The two looked at each other and nodded their heads.

"It was quite fun, but I think you should sleep for a bit. We still have a long way till we get home." Reo suggested as (Y/n) slowly nodded her head. Nagi used the opportunity and pulled his friend closer to himself. The duo watched as the striker slowly fell asleep.

"Reo... do you think we are losing him to Isagi?" Nagi mused as Reo frowned at that. Although he didn't like what Nagi said, he couldn't deny the close bond (Y/n) now shared with Isagi.

"I think so... but, we need to bring an end to this." Reo concluded as Nagi slowly nodded his head.

"We didn't spend all this time stealing those love letter aimed at him, and shooing fangirls away, just for us to lose him." Reo said, looking down at the sleeping striker.

"We need to make him remember who his actual partners are." Nagi grumbled, his hold on (Y/n) tightening.

"We need to see how close he is with Isagi... I need to know why it looks like Isagi knows more about (Y/n) than we do. Then, we can start destroying whatever bond they share." Reo concluded as Nagi slowly nodded his head.

#bllk #blue lock anime #blue lock manga #isagi yoichi #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock requests #reo mikage #chigiri hyoma #nagi seishiro #bachira meguru #gin gagamaru #otoya eita #karasu tabito #yukimiya kenyu #aryu jyubei #tokimitsu aoshi #barou shouei #crossdressing

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professional-yapper · 3 months

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This is for the anon who's ask I unfortunately lost when I accidentally posted this fic prematurely 😭😭 I'm so sorry nonnie please forgive me 🙏

Anon asked for an Aonung X reader where the reader is a Na'vi from a colder region!

The Deal

Aonung x Snow/Mountain Na'vi! Reader

Warnings: none really, mild head injury ig, aonung is so painfully ooc im sorry guys

Sempu: Dad/Daddy [informal version of father] - tsyeym: treasure, something precious

The call that land had been sighted went up shortly after dawn.

You were shaken from dreams of seals and shimmering landscapes by your father rising from the mat beside yours, rubbing a hand over his face blearily as he went to see for himself.

He was bare-chested and barefoot, wearing only pants, rolled up to his knees, as many of your fellow traders were, though the women kept their chest wrappings on for obvious reasons, having abandoned their warm furs and skins upon leaving the homeland.

You yourself were dressed simply for sleep, one of your father's old shirts, so worn thin from years of work it was perfect for the tropical climate you all had stumbled upon.

Some of the other traders had hopes of seeking out the reef, home of the aptly named reef people. You knew them by no other name. If they even had one.

Your own people were named in such a way that it couldn't be replicated here. A thin whistling noise made through the teeth, a mimicry of the icy wind that swirled across the snow covering the homeland.

But you also knew your father had no such hopes. The reef was too far, the surrounding seas too dangerous, filled with fantastical creatures that none of you could name. The not knowing was the worst part.

There was no way you could've found your way to the reef. And yet, soon, the boat was alive with traders running to redirect the vessel towards the land, calling and yipping to one another excitedly.

You sat, yawning and stretching, ears tilting downwards with the effort, the furs sliding off you as you did.

Your father smiled at you as he passed, reaching out to ruffle your hair, so like your mother's, though it had been months since you last saw her. "Come, tsyeym. Take a look. It's beautiful."

Unlike anything he had ever seen before, his eyes said as he glanced back towards the land, which came into view more strongly now, the last wisps of the fog snatched up and away by the brisk breeze.

You shifted onto your knees, leaning forward on your hands, still too sleepy to be bothered standing up, drinking in the sight laid before you greedily. A sky streaked with purple and crimson, and a sea stretching before you that reflected that.

So many sunrises, and each one as entrancing as the one before.

The reef was well within your sights now, and you could even see little figures, aqua blue in colour, high up on the layers of rock, probably coming to investigate.

Your father and a few other traders waved to them, but earned no response.

Instead, the reef people climbed down the rock levels and dove neatly into the sea, disappearing from you. You frowned. Where were they going? Were they coming towards the boat to see what you all wanted, or were they going to summon one of those mythical creatures to frighten you off?

Not sharing your father's natural optimistic personality, you stood and went over to him, tugging on his arm. "Sempu, maybe we should-"

"Look how fast they can swim, tsyeym," your father responded in a dreamy voice, watching the water, eyes fixed on them, and their forms cutting through the water became clearer to you the longer you stared. "They're made for this."

"We are not," you replied briskly, once again your mother's daughter with your practical personality. "Sempu, if they tip the boat-"

"Ah, my child. You worry too much," your father chuckled, wrapping a beefy arm around you and hugging you to his chest briefly, before striding off to help the other traders.

You huffed, but dared to move a few steps closer to the edge of the boat, following the reef people as they swam ever nearer, eyes narrowed with suspicion, hands fumbling for the fish knife that sat at your hip that you'd forgotten to take off after yesterday's evening meal.

Which also explained how uncomfortable sleeping on your side had been. Though obviously not uncomfortable enough to investigate. But nevertheless, you drew it and dropped to a crouch on the lip of the wood, gripping tightly with your fingers to keep yourself from tipping into the water, head over heels.

The reef people were close now, so close you could make out individual traits of each one. A few men, by the looks of it. Warriors, maybe. You frowned. You didn't care for warriors. The ones back home had biceps bigger than their brains, and mouths bigger than their biceps. The title of warrior was gifted as a show of strength and bravery, not intelligence or anything like that.

But you supposed it might be different here.

One of the men was actually a boy, judging by his smaller body and lack of tattoos. You leaned forward, trying to see better as they drew nearer, then swam entirely under the boat. Your frown grew. What were they doing?

Leaning further, further...

Then one of the reef people burst right out of the water before you, nose bumping against yours. You yelped, reeling back, dropping your knife in your shock.

There was a heavy moment of silence as you and the reef boy stared at each other.

He wasn't unpleasant. Just weird-looking. Hairless, like a fish. Pale and green and pink, with eyes like glaciers and dark curls that kept escaping the bun on the crown of his head.

You supposed by reef people standards he was quite attractive. By your standards too, but you couldn't even admit that to yourself.

"What are you?" he said finally, treading water and staring at you.

His attractiveness evaporated.

"What kind of a question is that?" you demanded, glaring back at him.

"I am the chief's son, you answer me first!"

You felt a headache coming on already. "That- how old are you? You sound like a little kid. And we don't recognise any kind of leadership, anyway, so take your title and stick it up your ass, princeling."

If looks could kill, you'd have just dropped dead.

He didn't say anything for a moment, taking a deep breath, ears flat against his head and nostrils flaring. Then, "Fine. I may have been too abrupt."

"A bit," you scoffed, earning another scowl from him.

"Let me finish. What I meant was; you're not like any Na'vi I've ever seen or heard of."

"So?" you replied, feeling too offended to even bother faking civility.

"So I want to know what kind of Na'vi you are. What's your tribe?" he said, ears flattening further, eyes dark and wet as he looked up at you, water lapping against his broad shoulders and chest.

"We're traders from up north. Our name is-" You made the sound for him, but the look on his face told you he wasn't going to even attempt to mimic it.

"We're Metkayina," he offered. "My name is Aonung."

"Oh," you hummed, making a note to tell your father the reef people had a name. You deliberated for a moment on whether or not to tell this rude fish boy Aonung your name, then decided not to.

And of course Aonung took offense to that too. "Aren't you going to tell me yours?" At least, you thought he would take offense. But he sounded almost amused, his expression shifting to something almost playful as he swam a little closer.

"Why should I?" you replied haughtily, curling your thick tail around your toes, hugging your knees to your chest. "You're kind of a skxwang."

Aonung laughed a little. "I get that a lot. I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean to offend you. Seriously. I didn't know you'd take it to heart."

You raised your eyes skyward, asking Eywa if this boy was serious. "You've got to be kidding. You hit me in the face then looked at me and asked what I was, like I was a dead animal you found floating in on the dawn tide."

"I did not look at you like that."

"You did! I saw you."

"I wasn't looking at you like that!"

Your sudden laughter surprised even you. "Okay, fine, you weren't looking at me like that," you relented, leaning forward. "What were you looking at me like then?"

He smiled at you, fangs pressing into his bottom lip a little. "Like I said. I wasn't looking at you any way."

You rolled your eyes. "You're infuriating. Are all reef boys this annoying?"

"Maybe. You should come find out," he said slyly.

"Sure, if your chief wants to make a trading agreement with us."

"My dad's the chief. I can talk to him if you want," he offered, and you noticed he was swimming closer to you ever so slightly, like if he moved slowly enough you wouldn't notice.

"Why would you do that?" you prompted teasingly, tilting your head to one side. "Want me to stick around?"

He shrugged, feigning innocence. "I could care less."

You couldn't help another laugh bubbling up and out of you, warmth filling your chest at being able to talk and banter with another teen your age. Even if said teen was kind of a douche. "Sure. Just admit it. You wanna know more about me."

"Well, I still don't know your name, so you could start with that," he pointed out.

"Sure," you repeated. "Get your dad to make a trading agreement with us and I'll tell you whatever you wanna know."

"Deal," he said, shifting forward, hoisting himself up on the edge of the boat, partially leaning over you, blocking out the light of the rising sun, eyes glittering with amusement as he looked down at you.

Great Mother. His attractiveness had returned with full force.

Broad chest, strong shoulders, a perfect body by the standards of your people. The dark curls, the colour and texture still so foreign to you despite all the different Na'vi you've met. The eyes, like precious gems held up to the sunlight. The water running down said broad chest in little rivulets, glistening and catching your eyes even as you tried to stop yourself.

You stared up at him for a second, wondering what in Eywa's name he was doing, before you realised he was holding out his hand to you.

You shook it.

Christ ALMIGHTY it's gonna be another multi chapter lads. Let me know if you want to be tagged in any future chapters x

#atwow #avatar #avatar 2 #avatar x reader #avatar fanfiction #aonung #aonung x reader #aonung fanfiction

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carlossainzwho · 8 months

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traitor

hi guys :)

i'm writing this fic because i'm still trying to figure out what went wrong between isa and carlos and i thought traitor by olivia rodrigo fit well. feel free to let me know in the comments if you would like a part two, perhaps with another olivia song (yeah i love her, probably enough for you) but anyway, i hope you enjoy!

pairing - carlos sainz x fem!reader (well, she's an ex)

warnings - just grammar, i can't be bothered to proofread. perhaps a bit of swearing too. sexual references.

brown guilty eyes and little white lies yeah, i played dumb but i always knew that you talked to her, maybe did even worse i kept quiet so i could keep you

what used to be 'good morning baby' turned into nothing and what used to be a cheeky smile tuned into a frown. he told her that he would love her, no matter what, but those innocent brown eyes couldn't fool her.

y/n knew he was lying. rebecca wasn't just a friend of his. but y/n loved carlos too much to let him go.

and ain't it funny how you ran to her the second that we called it quits?

instagram posts. fans. the media. they went crazy after y/n and carlos' split. who is rebecca? who had she dated before? why did carlos move on? the real question was, how did he move on so easily?

and ain't it funny how you said you were friends now it sure as hell don't look like it

rebecca and carlos weren't just friends. slightly more, you could say. and y/n knew that.

You betrayed me And I know that you'll never feel sorry for the way I hurt, yeah You talked to her when we were together Loved you at your worst, but that didn't matter It took you two weeks to go off and date her Guess you didn't cheat, but you're still a traitor

she told herself that she wouldn't cry, that the 6 1/2 years that you two spent together weren't in vain, and he'll see what he did wrong. she loved him but he never loved her back. he left her with a broken and confused heart.

and all y/n wanted to know was what she had done wrong.

Now you bring her around Just to shut me down Show her off like she's a new trophy

y/n took to instagram to see what they were up to. there's not mistaking it - the lush brown hair, the dazzling blue eyes - no wonder carlos got bored of y/n. post after post, she saw rebecca in sparkly dresses and small bikinis with her beautiful hair going down her beautiful back, waving in the wind beautifully. everything she was insecure about. and with every swipe of her phone, y/n's heart broke to see her ex lover's hand around rebecca's waist and not hers.

Ain't it funny All the twisted games All the questions you used to avoid? Ain't it funny? Remember I brought her up And you told me I was paranoid

who's rebecca?

where's she from?

y/n laughed. she remembers carlos used to tell her that he liked british accents.

what? who? how?

rebecca's a friend, right? right?

ah, ah, ah God, I wish that you had thought this through Before I went and fell in love with you

sunset was near. summer of 2016 was lovely.

'y/n, i'm in love with you.' his lips fell on hers. from supporting him in races, to having sex, to being by his side through the worst.

all of which could only be dreamt of.

When she's sleeping in the bed we made Don't you dare forget about the way you betrayed me

walking past the graffiti in the local park that read

true love only happens once

rebecca and carlos this, rebecca and carlos that.

and as carlos lay in bed

with rebecca by his side, snoozing

he remembers looking at y/n's face

with her golden hair

and grey-green eyes

and beautiful smile

her lips on his

all of which could only be dreamt of.

a small note:

in the fic, i mentioned graffiti that said true love only happens once. this is actually from my local park and as i was cycling past it, the first person i thought of was isa hernaez. she's strong, but i know that somewhere inside of her, she misses carlos and i'm sure carlos feels the same. thank you so much for reading, you mean everything to me.

please reblog so that i can get more support! i love you!

and remember

true love only happens once.

PLEASE VOTE FOR PART 2 NOW ON MY ACCOUNT!!!!!!

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neutron-stars-collision · 10 months

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Waiting for the Night

Bruce Wayne x F!Reader

Chapter 20 - In the glow of the moon

Chapter 19; Masterlist Summary: Some conversations cannot be avoided. Especially when it is Bruce, who becomes impatient... Warnings: Swearing; angst. Too much talking. Author's Notes: Alas, we've made it. This is where the story ends *sniffles*. While I've got a short epilogue in mind, it's going to be more of a post scriptum, so I'm treating this as the conclusion to the journey. And what a journey it had been! 🥺 It only took me a year and a half to finish the series, but I'm so glad I did. Those idiots did not make it easy, but I'll sure miss them. This chapter is a long overdue punchline some of you had been waiting for. I hope it meets your expectations. Thank you for reading, waiting and supporting me in the very rocky process. You all made it much easier to convince my brain it was worth continuing 💕 And thank you, Shet, for dealing with my whining, doubts and endless drama - always grateful for you! Hope you all enjoy and let me know what you think? Tag list: @thecraziestcrayon, @kookiewastolen, @imimsy, @tuskens-mando, @sugarcoated-lame, @blue-aconite, @hypnoash, @rabbitdictionary, @nicklet94, @mcrmarvelloki, @shimmeringgrim, @ttae-yong, @freyadruid, @siriuslydestiny, @ms-dont-care, @raphaelaisabella, @itsmytimetoodream, @brightjimini, @castellandiangelo, @grunge-n-roses5 (let me know if you wanted to be removed/added).

(gif credit: @1038276637)

In the morning, you dared believe the universe must have a soft spot for you within its core. As soon as your eyes opened, your gaze noted two things. One, Bruce was gone. Two, there was a note with his handwriting on your bedside table.

Without letting your mind run away with the first fact, undoubtedly working itself into a spiral like no other you rolled over to pick up the page. The contents were simple: “Sorry I’m gone. The hospital called to say Alfred had been signed out, so I went to pick him up. See you soon.”

The spark of relief drowned out everything else as you dropped the paper onto the covers and smiled at the ceiling. Everything was still fucked. But this was something. Something that could take your mind off the reality. It was easy to admit that one thought. You missed Alfred. Missed his clever blue-grey eyes that saw through your bullshit. Maybe it was what you needed… Maybe.

The thought was a motivator to drag you out of bed and into the closet, absentmindedly searching for anything you could wear. The first proper wake-up of the morning came when you entered the ensuite and found yourself facing the mirror. Finding mussed hair and a red bruise on your neck. A few more below, scattered like flares across your body. Drawing attention to what happened. Making it impossible for you to deny it, even before yourself. A wave of shame rolled in your stomach, erasing the budding hunger. You turned your head the other way and never looked back until you were ready to leave the bathroom.

It was cold enough for a turtleneck, anyway.

The distraction kicked in as soon as you made your way downstairs. A chorus of voices could be heard coming from the kitchen. A sound you had not heard in the tower since the explosion. A quiet sigh of relief was all the noise you made as you headed into the room. Eager to see what was going on. Having reached the doorway, you peered inside. Bruce was the first one you saw, leaning against the kitchen counter with a timid yet bright smile. He seemed happy. Lighter than when you had first met him.

Another dangerous thought you did not want to entertain. Your gaze slipped over Bruce to settle on Alfred. He was leaning heavily on his cane, but no bandages were in sight anymore. Only a fading yellowish bruise and darker circles underneath his eyes. Dory was talking with him animatedly, her hands gesticulating broadly. A grin broke out on your face as you stepped through the threshold, immediately drawing attention to your arrival. All three pairs of eyes landed on you. Without meaning to, you met Bruce’s gaze first. The look in his eyes shifted, but his face was still open. As if he was happy to see you. Even after the previous night. You never had the time to pull that revelation apart.

“Glad to see you join us, darling” Alfred crossed the remaining space towards you with a bright smile.

Affection filled the caverns of your heart, making it impossible to get rid of that one feeling. The one that reminded you that you had not felt this welcomed anywhere in a very long time. That this, the three of them, almost felt like the home you had lost twenty years ago. You swallowed past the lump in your throat to reply, a cheeky smile masking the emotions tearing through your chest:

“Pardon me, I didn’t know we’ll be having a kitchen party” an answering scoff from Bruce was enough of a validation for the weak joke, “It’s good to see you back, Alfred” you met the butler’s gaze with a fond look of your own, not hiding just how much you had meant it.

You knew he understood, instantly adjusting his stance to open his arms and invite you in for a hug with a quiet croon:

“Oh, c’mere,” you did not need to be asked twice, returning the embrace with care, mindful of his lingering frailty.

But Alfred’s hug was everything but frail, instantly making you sink into the comforting touch you did not know you had missed. After a beat, aware of the company and the prolonged silence, you pulled back, squeezing his arms one last time. Over Pennyworth’s shoulder, you caught Bruce’s gaze again. The softness in his eyes was replaced with something more tender. Almost as if seeing you close to Alfred meant much more to him than he could say. You sent him a small smile as the butler spoke again:

“I see my boy at least had the decency to invite you to stay for longer” the older man threw a pointed look over his shoulder at Bruce before setting his piercing gaze back on you.

You did wonder whether the blush on your cheeks was as telling as you worried it might be. Because there was no escape from it.

“Of course, I-” Bruce’s offended rebuttal was never meant to be heard.

Only because you feared what he might say and whether you could mitigate the effects without the scene dissolving into chaos. You threw Bruce an apologetic smile and interrupted him with faux chirpiness:

“He did. At least until everything settles down in the city,” the apologetic note was not easily eradicated from your voice.

Because no matter what, you still felt like perhaps you were a nuisance to them. Like maybe you should have disappeared a long time ago and never bothered them again. But then Bruce was the one to ask… And the previous night, he seemed happy with you staying… You barely resisted shaking your head against the barrage of thoughts as Alfred remarked:

“Well, we’re certainly not short on space” he glanced at Dory as if awaiting her approval.

You followed his gaze only to see the older woman smile at you warmly. Giving her blessing with your favourite question of the morning:

“Coffee?” she raised the mug to accentuate the gesture.

“From you? Always” there was no need to think as you flashed her your brightest grin and joined the woman by the counter.

Perhaps it was alright for you to stay. Just a little longer.

***

The illusion of peace lasted approximately 32 hours and 27 minutes. It shattered in the afternoon of the second day of Alfred’s return as Dory left the dining room table, leaving you alone with the older man. As if he had been waiting for the occasion to arise, Pennyworth instantly settled his heavy gaze on your face. You got as far as awkwardly clearing your throat before he launched the first question:

“How are you doing?” you knew the nonchalance in his tone was only a means of keeping you calm.

And making you stay at the table, despite the alarm bells in your head urging you to run away. Because hell knew Alfred was damn good at seeing through your bullshit. Unfortunately.

“I’m good,” you pasted what you hoped was a convincing smile.

Hoping it would be enough to deter him. Foolishly.

Alfred leaned forward, putting more weight onto his forearms as he levelled you with another long look:

“Are you?” your heart stumbled in your chest as if begging to say: No, I’m not; he paused, seemingly to find the right words before driving another striking blow, “Because it took me a little over a day to see that things are not exactly easy between you” you could see the tactful turn.

The exact moment when Alfred noticed he needed to be gentle with you. When he saw your fragility and discovered the cause without you needing to say it aloud. That need to run and hide only grew stronger.

“Well… we get on just fine” you shrugged, aware that it was a futile attempt on your side.

It wasn’t a lie. Even after that night, things were fine. As in, Bruce talked to you, still shared his work updates, and checked in on you throughout the day. But he kept his distance. And you tried your best not to dwell on the fact fearing the heartbreak that would follow if you did.

“I know that you do,” compassion in Alfred’s eyes told you he noticed it too, “But I also know Bruce. And I can see that he’s desperately trying to fix something, but he doesn’t know where to start” the hint of hurt in his face was enough to crack your heart.

It was one thing to know you had been hurting Bruce. Another to hear it from someone else. Someone who knew him more than you. A wave of shame threatened to drown you as you gasped quietly and trained your gaze on the table. A lone tear slipped from the corner of your eye and dropped onto the cloth. There would be no more pretending.

“What do you want me to say?” the hysterical note crept into your voice as you heard yourself spill confessions you never dared put into words, “I’m scared, Alfred. Always had been. Because there are feelings that I can’t get rid of no matter what I do” more tears rolled down your cheeks as the desperation you had tried stifling reared its head “I don’t want to hurt him, but…” you trailed off, your voice breaking under the weight of emotions.

But that was it. The truth was spoken for the first time and somehow more terrifying. You knew how it sounded. How utterly pathetic it was to be afraid of the thing many were willing to die for. But you could not help it.

“You’re also hurting yourself, though” Alfred’s gentle statement was enough to make you look up.

You fixed your red-rimmed eyes on his face, resisting the sudden urge to scoff. He was right, but that did not change anything. After twenty years of hurting, what was some more? An eternity? Easy. Much easier than whatever was going on right now.

“That’s inevitable” you could only shrug, staring at him blankly.

Because that’s just the thing. It’s inevitable. There is no outcome where you could have this and walk away unscathed. No such variant of the reality.

From the disbelief on Alfred’s face, you knew he disagreed.

“What if it doesn’t have to be like that?” you opened your mouth to protest, but he did not let you speak just yet, “What if you could have everything you wanted and be happy?” the conviction in his eyes was something you wished you could share.

But you couldn’t. It sounded like a fable, a tale too good to be true. It sounded like your childhood before.

“I don’t think that’s possible” you levelled him with a resigned look and brushed the drying tears from your cheeks.

Suddenly you wanted nothing more than to burrow underneath the covers and disappear from the world until the morning. Only Alfred had one more thing to say…

“I beg to differ” with his tone urging you to listen, you fell quiet as he continued, “I can’t tell you what to do or think, but… You make him happy” his gaze softened as your heart panged, barely able to sit idly for much longer, “And I know that’s mutual” though there was no need, you nodded weakly, confirming the correct assumption “Love is terrifying, but it’s also worth the pain” unable to withstand the vulnerable moment, you closed your eyes, hiding the pain he could find there; he hit the metaphorical bullseye “Don’t let the fear take it away from you” as Alfred finished the speech you let out a long exhale.

As if sensing you were barely holding on, he stood up from the table and left the dining room. But not without reaching out to squeeze your shoulder first. Only once you were alone did you let the tears flow freely.

You desperately wanted him to be right.

***

Only two days later, things came to a head with the most unexpected beginning. Although it was late, you were still busy with work, reading up on different witness accounts of the aftermath of the flooding. While you were still officially off work for another week, you wanted to make sure you had something to write about as soon as you could. And as much as you wanted to, Riddler’s case was off-limits. The decision was difficult to accept, but it was a no-brainer. You could not write about events that hit so close to home and expect it to be unbiased. And any good at all.

So, with a heavy heart, you began a quest to find something new. To your utmost surprise – Bruce offered to help. And help he did, sharing various stories he has heard during his patrols, dropping hints towards the whispers passed around in the dark. You were more grateful than you knew how to express.

Glancing at the clock in the upper corner of the laptop screen, you groaned at the late hour. Perhaps it was time to finish for the night… Perhaps you could- You never got to end the thought as sudden feedback sound rang out in the study. Its whine made you startle, head snapping up in rapt attention at whatever would follow. That was familiar. A memory from what felt like ages ago. It took you another moment to catch up and recognise the song. The subtle strumming was almost indistinguishable. And then…

You got up before you knew what you were doing. Like a siren call leading sailors to their demise, the increasing volume of the music dragged you down the stairs. Once you got closer, you could hear him sing. Quietly, as if he never wanted anyone to have heard him, but still. His low, gravelly voice was enough to increase the cadence of your heartbeat and make you pick up the pace.

‘You're just like an angel

Your skin makes me cry

You float like a feather

In a beautiful world’

You knew the lyrics well enough to feel the familiar tension fill your chest when you reached the study and held your breath upon the sight.

‘I wish I was special

You're so fuckin' special’

Bruce had his back to you, the broad plane of his shoulders covered with a washed-out black t-shirt. Body hunched over the guitar. Without seeing his face, you knew that his eyes were closed. As the volume grew, his strumming got angrier. Dexterous fingers hit each note as they were supposed to. The pain in his voice perfected the picture and made you tighten your grip on the railing. It was terrifying to think about the song choice and what it meant. Whether it meant anything at all.

The longer you stayed, frozen by the sight, the more you knew you should have never given in to the pull. Because now you could not walk away. Not without talking to Bruce. Even if only just about the music. The longing got almost unbearable.

The guitar’s tone slowed; the riff returned to its gentle opening. Bringing the number to a close. Bruce’s voice turned smooth, rolling over your torn heart like a soothing balm. But only just so. Before you realised it, a solitary tear had rolled down your cheek. You whispered the closing lyrics alongside him:

‘What the hell am I doin' here?

I don't belong here

I don't belong here’

Bruce finished the song with a long exhale. For a moment, you contemplated running back up the stairs like you had never been there. But you could not move. Your mouth opened on its own accord:

“You’ve got a beautiful voice” you winced as Bruce flinched, his body tensing as he turned to face you with a shock evident on his face; still, you trudged on and added, “But that was a rather gloomy choice, don’t you think?” an unconvincing smile graced your face.

Because you knew Bruce would see beneath the mask. He would notice the drying tear on your cheek and the pain in your eyes. That one look would be enough for him to tear you apart.

“It felt accurate” Bruce shrugged, his façade drawn up and ready to hide all hints of emotion.

But you could see him look at you, gaze searching and assessing. Noticing everything there was to see. Like he always did. Unable to withstand eye contact much longer, you let your gaze roam as well. Slipping over his forearms and hands, still carefully holding the instrument. As if he expected you to leave so he could continue. But it was not that easy.

“If you’re a creep, then I’m a weirdo” you gathered enough courage to look back up at him, finding Bruce still gazing back; it was enough of an encouragement to make you drop the nonchalance, a veiled confession ready on your tongue “Kindred freaks and all,”

For the first time since he looked at you, you saw Bruce’s mask slip. A flash of surprise passed through his blue eyes and, then, something more tender. The aching chasm in your chest grew wider as you stepped down from the landing and took a step closer to him. The movement woke him up. Bruce took off the guitar strap from around his neck and placed the instrument back on the stand. Silence echoed in the vast room.

“I didn’t think you’d hear me play” when he raised his head again, part of that wall hiding him from you was gone.

In its place, you could see wary curiosity. As if Bruce did not expect to see you tonight or have this conversation. As if you caught him by surprise. For some reason, the idea settled with heavy guilt in your stomach. Because maybe you were trespassing, bothering him with your presence when he would rather be alone. You swallowed past the sudden lump in your throat and whispered:

“I’m sorry” your body had half made up its mind to turn around on your hell and march up the stairs.

Like you should have done when he finished the song. A goodbye was ready on your lips before Bruce spoke, making you freeze:

“Did you mean it?” the cautious tone arrested your attention.

As did the fleeting hope in his eyes. Gone so fast you assumed you had imagined it. Your heart skipped a beat as you understood what Bruce was asking. There was only one thing it could be. As if eager to spite you, your mind readily offered the memory. A sentence blurted out in a moment of passion. Your undoing, as it seemed. Heat filled your cheeks as you felt yourself shake. Panic took over; its job was simple – you couldn’t admit it. Not yet. Ideally never. So, you did what you do best.

“Mean what?” a confused smile was ready on your lips, masking the descending terror with a weak attempt at deflection, “The line just now? I-”

You should have known better. Bruce interrupted your pathetic one-woman play with a simple injection:

“You know what I mean” frustration rolled off him in waves, making him clench his hands into tight fists as Bruce stared at you with growing desperation.

Urging you to drop the act. But it was too late. The cold panic had settled, freezing you on the hardwood floors. Freezing your mind on that one thought – you couldn’t tell him. He can’t know.

“Bruce, I’ve no-” you tried again, without the foreign smile and bullshit nonchalance.

In your head, a pleading chorus was rising in volume. Drop it. Please drop it. But Bruce did not want to listen. He took a step closer, briefly reaching out his hand before letting fall back down. As if he wanted to touch you but soon realised that would not do.

“Please, just- Don’t lie to me” his voice broke on the last word, pain squeezing your heart like a vice; it only got worse when Bruce added, “I don’t think I can do this anymore” he glanced at you almost passively.

Almost as if he had not just crushed your heart in the palm of his hand with that one sentence. Cold fear rose in your throat as you took a step forward, voice wavering as you asked the only question you could:

“Do what?” even though you knew.

You could feel it in your bones. Bruce was done with this. With you. You could even guess why. And if that was it, the end, then you could not blame him, only yourself. A new wave of tears rose in your eyes as you waited for Bruce to cut the cord and end your suffering.

“This,” he vaguely waved his hand at the space between you before turning to pace the room, restless energy permeating every cell of his body, “It hurts too much to pretend. And- I mean, it’s pretty obvious. You must know by now” what? The question painted itself in the crease between your eyebrows as Bruce glanced at you with passion in his gaze, begging you to understand, “It’s not like I’m good at hiding it anyway” the following scoff was self-directed, as if Bruce was angry with his actions, or lack of them, as well.

But none of that explained what he meant. The bewilderment was evident on your face. You could tell Bruce saw it because he let out a long frustrated sigh. He stopped pacing, eyes trained on the floor as if taking part in a heated debate you were no part of. You reminded yourself to breathe, still frozen in your spot with no pointers towards where it was going. What was going to happen next. You opened and closed your mouth in a question that never quite came and went back to staring helplessly at Bruce. Fully aware of the pained look in your eyes and the shaking in your hands.

Later, you could pinpoint the moment he snapped. When the silence became too much to bear, and Bruce rushed in to fill it with words. More words than you had ever heard him say, unprompted. He walked back towards you, eyes wide and awake despite the late hour. But nothing you could see in his face warned you of what was coming:

“I know I’m new to this whole thing, but… I think I’m in love with you” oh. Oh. The breath hitched in your chest. The sincerity of his confession was the reason why you swayed on your feet, only just managing to grasp the railing before you fell at his feet – literary and figuratively; before you could process what Bruce had said and what it meant, he trudged on, seemingly unable to stop now that he began talking “Hell, I know I am, because nothing has ever torn me apart and put me back together all at once. No one else, but you” remembering to breathe, Bruce took a greedy inhale as his eyes met yours; the blue of his irises was set ablaze with that emotion you could never quite decipher. Until now, “I’m tired of pretending this is fine when it’s anything but. Nights like that last one are the worst because, for a moment, I get to feel what we could have, but then you- You leave, and it hurts twice as much because I know what I’m missing. What I’ll probably never have unless it’s with you” tears rolled down your cheeks as you stared, feeling the fear and love wage war in your heart. It was almost impossible to understand what was going on. And why the pain in his eyes only seemed to grow with each confession, the words dropping heavily onto the space between you, staining the floorboards with blood and despair. Yet still, Bruce’s next words slashed your heart anew, “And sometimes, I think… I think that maybe you’re the same” he looked at you again, the unasked question evident on his face.

A question you could not answer. The fear had won, claiming reign over your head and heart as you stared back. Still too frozen to move. Still unable to understand what had just happened. Bruce loved you. He was in love with you. He reciprocated, even though he did not know it. Fuck. All at once, you wanted to howl - be it from joy or pain, you could not decide. What now?

Your thoughts rushed a hundred miles per hour, spiralling and panicking. Worrying about every single what-if you could think of. All your mouth could form was a plea:

“Bruce, please- Don’t-” you did not even know what you were begging for.

Mercy, mostly. But with every second passing, you began to understand there was no way out of this. For better or for worse.

As if reading your feverish thoughts, Bruce closed the gap between you and reached out a careful hand, letting his fingers skim down the length of your forearm. Immediately, he had drawn attention to the chill you could feel settling in your bones as goosebumps followed his tentative touch. The sole-minded focus was still in his eyes:

“I swear I’ll leave you alone, detach myself from whatever is going on between us, if you’ll tell me I’m wrong” softening his voice a notch, Bruce searched your face, looking for the answers himself, “Tell me you don’t think of me like that and I’ll let it go. I promise” his hand clasped around yours, squeezing your palm as a reassurance that he meant it “Just tell me- Tell me you don’t love me” there, simple.

Or not so simple at all. A shudder went through your body as Bruce repeated the cursed word. Now it was entirely in your hands. The weight was resting on your shoulders, waiting for you to choose. For a second, you considered taking the way out that was still there. Faint and going against every promise you had made to yourself, but it still existed. You could deny everything, tell him he had it all wrong, lie and flee the scene with only the price of Bruce’s wounded heart on your conscience. But you couldn’t. Could not make yourself consider it beyond the basic set of assumptions and potentials.

Instead, you could only offer him an incomprehensible stutter, a collection of sounds paired with the colour draining from your face:

“I can’t- I-” the desire to run was still there, growing stronger with each second Bruce had spent staring at you.

He must have read it in your eyes for the moment you turned on your heel, body poised to run up the stairs, his arms were around you in a second. Caging you with your back pressed to his chest. Your shocked gasp was the only sound you could make.

“Don’t run away from me now,” Bruce’s plea was whispered right into your ear, making you shiver, “Please” only once you had the time to breathe, you noticed how lose his hold was; it would not take much to free yourself, should you want to “I’ve got you” the reassurance got through the white noise in your ears, making you relax.

Even if just by a fraction. You could feel the rise and fall of his breath at your back, the wisps of air across the back of your neck and cheek. One of his hands traced small circles on your arm, slowing your heart rate to a manageable pace. That was it. You couldn’t run from it anymore. You took a deep breath before you spoke:

“I’m so scared,” the admission was easy enough to utter.

A fragment of truth you owed Bruce. The reason for everything, as he would come to understand very soon. His embrace tightened slightly as he pressed a fleeting kiss to the crown of your head. It was almost enough to quieten the panic.

“I know, my love. Trust me. I know” the gratitude at his understanding was quickly overshadowed by the nickname he used.

The heart stuttered in your chest, unable to process it. My love. Two words that had never been aimed at you; have never related to you. A term of endearment you had come to envy in the quiet of your heart, yearning for something you never expected to have. But here it was, within your reach. If only you were brave enough to take it.

You closed your eyes, willing the courage to fill your veins as you pressed your back to Bruce’s chest. He wouldn’t hurt you. The statement filled your head like a mantra as you slowly forced more words out:

“You see me. The real me and it’s scary because what if you come to hate me? I don’t think I could survive that” it all came out in a rush of breath, leaving you gasping.

But it was out there. The truth for Bruce to hear and take in. The bravery was draining the energy from your body as you waited for a reply, a comment – anything at all. Anything to show you he understood.

He did not disappoint, offering you another gentle squeeze before speaking:

“I could never hate you” the certainty in Bruce’s voice was what you later considered as the thing that tipped the scales.

Because, for once, you pushed against the denial and believed him. After all, Bruce was the one with more to lose. The first to reach out. To come clean before you. Goddamn it, if he was brave enough, maybe you could be too… Maybe.

Cold shivers ran through your body as you tried to give voice to the words that had been choking you for days. If not weeks. You never thought to keep track and were too busy keeping them in. Despite everything. Perhaps there was no better time than now.

You squeezed Bruce’s hand to assure him you were not running away and turned in the embrace. It was better that way. Proper. You met his boundless gaze, now filled only with hope and the feeling you had recognised as the love he spoke of. It was enough. With a shaking voice, you released the confession from the prison you had made for it:

“Christ, I- I- I love you” the words came out wavered, and your breath stuttered with each syllable, but the light in his eyes was a reason to go on, “So fucking much it kills me” now that you started, the admissions did not seem to stop, slipping through your lips in a steady stream, slowly gaining speed “I’ve no idea when it happened, only that now you’re all I can think about. Every day, I go crazy because of you. Because I want you so much, I don’t know what to do with all those feelings. Sometimes it feels as though they’re going to tear my heart apart” running out of steam, you swallowed hard against the sudden dryness in your throat; it felt like a fraction of the weight had been lifted, now drowning in the blue gaze that did not stray away from your face. There was one last thing to add, a conclusion stating the obvious “But I’m still afraid,” the cursed punchline you did not seem able to shake off.

Only now, once the words were out, you allowed yourself to look back at Bruce. His shy smile acted like a magnet, drawing out your helpless twist of mouth. Your eyes followed the line of his nose (slightly crooked to the right) up to his eyes. Instantly drowning within the depths of blue irises filled with affection. Almost as if what you revealed did not change anything for him. As if, somehow, it would be alright. He would try rather than run away from you and your complex feelings no one seemed to fully comprehend. Not even you yourself. Too lost in his eyes, you only noticed he had reached up to touch you when you felt the gentle thumb brushing over the apple of your cheek. Caressing your skin and quelling the worries.

“Of what?” Bruce’s simple question acted like the needed push in the right direction.

A reason to put into words and label what you never dwelled on. But now, you had no choice but to piece it apart. Even if only because Bruce deserved it from you. He earned an attempt at trying from you. Because, when faced with the reality that he felt the same, you knew you could not deny it anymore. It was terrifying. And oh, so hopeful. You let the feelings in his eyes anchor you in the moment as you spoke:

“That you’re going to leave. Or something takes you away from me” you could see the recognition pass through his face, making the addition nearly redundant “I don’t have a great track record with love” still, the sad scoff could not be kept in.

There was something freeing in seeing the knowing look on Bruce’s face. In knowing that he understood the feeling, perhaps better than anyone else ever could. That, no matter what happened next, you were placing your heart in the palm of someone who gets it. That you had fallen for that same boy you felt a kinship with days after your childhood ended. It was almost poetic.

“I don’t plan on leaving” when Bruce gave voice to the affirmation, you wanted to believe him.

Because he said it before. Every time you let your insecurities win. You clenched your teeth against the denial bubbling beneath the surface and asked a question:

“Why?” hoping he would know what you meant.

It was the only way you knew of asking him why you were the one to make him care. Why you? Bruce only smiled in response, leaning in to kiss your forehead before effortlessly meeting your gaze and baring his heart. Again.

“Because you’re incredible, beautiful, smart, and you see me. You see Bruce Wayne where everybody else sees a symbol, an idea of who I am” the sincerity of his words made your heart seem too big for your chest, each beat threatening to be the one that would make it implode, “Only you see me as I am” as did the gratitude and love in his gaze.

Showing you that the feeling was mutual. You saw Bruce just as he saw you. Like no one else did. The discovery was enough to make you sure – it was worth it.

Aware of the likely sparks in your eyes and the foolishly lovesick look on your face, you cleared your throat and whispered a question:

“Can I kiss you?” you did not know why it felt necessary to ask when you never did before.

When it was probably a given, considering everything he just said. The only thing you were sure of was that you had to let him know. Had to show how much it meant to hear him say it.

Bruce’s fond smile was an answer enough, but he still brushed away your concerns.

“You don’t have to ask” leaning in, he nudged your nose with his and waited for your decisive move.

After all, it was you who had asked. Getting onto your tiptoes, you returned the playful nudge and placed your hands on his shoulders. From then on, everything was a reflex and acting on well-practised instincts. Your eyes closed as you leaned in, slotting your lips over his in a tender kiss. Bruce responded immediately, tightening his hold over your waist and opening his mouth underneath your tentative tongue. The kiss quickly turned heated, drawing out a muffled gasp from your throat and a half-stifled whine from his. Your fingers tangled in the hair on the nape of his neck as you gently sank your teeth into his bottom lip. Enough so to make Bruce groan and pull you closer.

That long-buried, sentimental part of your brain could tell this kiss tasted different. More carefree, unrestrained. Nothing stopped you from tracing the confessions on his skin as your tongue whispered words only Bruce could hear. You did not think anyone ever kissed you quite like that. Like it was the only thing he wanted to do until the end of time. Like the time spent caressing your lips and body was his holy ritual and never a waste of time. Like it mattered enough to be something Bruce devoted his attention to. Until you broke the contact to catch a breath, you were only his, and he was yours. Then, as your eyes met again, wearing matching infatuated looks, the kiss became a promise of more to come. You noted his blushing cheeks and offered a remark:

“I like what you called me, by the way” from the way Bruce’s eyes lit up instantly, you knew it was no slip of the tongue.

Even more so, it was a reason for your heart to beat faster. He meant it.

“My love?” his gaze traced the movement of your tongue, licking your drying lips.

And collecting the remains of the taste of his kiss. A pleasant shiver ran through your body as Bruce repeated the endearment. You could get used to it.

“Yeah, that’s new” you nodded, not even trying to school your features and erase the hope blooming there.

Bruce smiled, drawing out a gasp from your lips as his fingers crept beneath your shirt, lightly touching the skin on your waist. It almost distracted you from his next words.

“It can stay if you want,” without needing Bruce to elaborate, you knew what it meant; the feeling only grew stronger as he added, “If you’ll stay,” a meaningful pause signing off the conditional.

If. You still had a choice. At least, Bruce seemed to think so. What he did not know was that you had already decided. Or that your heart has chosen for you. There was no alternative there. But the slightest bit of uncertainty in his eyes told you he needed an answer:

“I’ll try to” the honest reply was a perfect opening for another question, one that you had been holding back for a while, “Are you mine?”

It was the final assurance you needed from Bruce if only to convince your head it was safe to give him your heart, body, and soul. For as long as he was willing to have them. For as long as he would have you.

Bruce used his unoccupied hand to squeeze your palm as he lowered his head to catch your eye. You had no doubt he caught the nerves lurking there; impossible to be exiled entirely. Unknowingly, you held your breath, waiting for his answer as if the world depended on it.

“If you’re mine,” Bruce’s reply was simple, bringing out your chuckle at the banter you had fallen into.

The joy was reciprocated, too, if the creases at the corners of his eyes were anything to go by. Not for the first time since you had met, you had been struck by a thought, a recognition that he was beautiful. The sharp features and striking eyes always pulled you in and made it impossible to look away. To stray your eyes from his. To find anyone else worth looking at. At this moment, in the dark gothic study, lit up only by the fireplace and the lamp, you knew it was always a lost cause. You had lost a long time ago.

Instead of replying, you kissed him quickly, relishing in the sharp gasp you got in return. When you parted, an answer was easy to conjure:

“I’m pretty sure you’re the only one willing to put up with this” upon Bruce’s questioning look, you motioned at the meagre space between you, highlighting the truth he might have missed.

That there was no competition there. Only Bruce was willing to endure you for this long and in this way. He was the only one wanting your love and loving you back. You were not quite ready to piece apart why (or how) that could be.

“I’ve always been told I’m relentless” the cheeky uptick of Bruce’s mouth was a hypnotizing sight.

You did not miss the telling glimmer in his eye or the smooth move which resulted in your body being pulled closer to his. Almost flush against his chest. It was impossible to deny your brain’s desire to offer you a recap of every moment you had shared which had begun in that way. And to stifle the shiver and the knowledge that, if the universe were gracious, you would have many more coming. The reminder was enough to make you smile and return the playful smirk:

“Good for me” struck with sudden weariness and feeling the rapidly dropping adrenaline, you tugged Bruce’s hand and wordlessly led him towards the sofa; only once you had fallen onto the cushions with a sigh and curled up next to him, you asked the question “What happens now?”

You knew Bruce would get what you meant. He always did.

You felt him shift, one arm coming up to rest around your shoulders, drawing you closer. The other hand was placed on your knee, providing gentle warmth and helping you stay present with him. It was almost too easy to let go and fall back on his constant support to keep you grounded. The doubts were still there, rising and falling like the natural ebb and flow of the tide, lapping at the edges of your conscience. You suspected they would probably always be there, somewhere. Ready to take over at the tiniest chance of something going wrong. The best you could do was hope that would never happen.

As if sensing your mental chatter getting louder, Bruce leaned in to leave a trail of kisses on the shell of your ear and nuzzled your temple. The resulting sigh was effortless on your part. As always.

“We try not to fuck it up” he had his answer ready, eyes trained on you and waiting for whatever might come up.

You had to admit it sounded simple. Almost doable. But…

“And if we do?” you turned to catch his eyes with what you knew to be a wild gaze.

You needed Bruce to say it. To promise he would fight for whatever you were to become. It had to work. Please. You already knew you would be willing to sacrifice a lot for this fragile thing between you. It was already a fact.

A fact Bruce could undoubtedly see in your gaze, for the confidence bled into his voice as he replied:

“Then we’ll try harder” he grabbed your hand, which restlessly picked at the loose thread on the hem of your shirt and squeezed it.

On a reflex, you threaded your fingers through his and pressed your palms together. You had no choice but to trust him. To do the unimaginable and place your heart in his hands, surrendering control in the process. You swallowed past the fear in your throat and pressed your mouth to the corner of his lips. It felt like an apt conclusion to the conversation long overdue.

A little later, once another kiss had ended, and a new one had not yet begun, you raised your head from its comfortable placement on Bruce’s shoulder and fixed your gaze on the black and white guitar resting on its stand. An in-direct reason you had the conversation in the first place. You briefly contemplated sending a thank-you letter to the manufacturer but were struck with a better idea.

“Bruce?” taking pleasure in how his name rolled off your tongue, you marvelled at the rare peacefulness of the moment.

There was nowhere else to be, nothing else to do. Nothing, but feeling the low rumble of his voice as Bruce hummed.

“Mm?” he kept tracing letters onto the skin of your arm, leaving you to guess their meaning on your own.

Sometimes you were willing to bet he was repeating the confessions he just spoke of. The thought drew an involuntary smile onto your face.

“Play me something” you met his gaze with that same affectionate look in your eyes.

There was no need to specify the request - you knew Bruce would choose well. He only grinned at you in response and disentangled from your embrace to stand up and pick up the instrument. You watched his forearms flex, tendons dancing beneath the pale skin as Bruce placed the strap around his neck and bowed over the guitar. His eyes closed in concentration, but he was not tense. It was a far cry from how you found him over an hour before.

With a breath trapped in your chest, you awaited the first notes. When he began the rhythmic strumming, a fond chuckle escaped your lips. You had to admit Bruce was nothing, if not predictable. Humming the chorus alongside him, you met his questioning gaze. You smiled, mouthing the words that were no longer forbidden. Love you. Sweetheart.

“Something in the way, huh?” the laugh spilling through the gaps between the vowels.

“What? You did not specify” teasing edge you would have never even imagined becoming so accustomed to.

“I knew I didn’t have to,” and then, just to see him roll his eyes with that enamoured exasperation “Babe,”

98 notes · View notes

ariesqueencobra · 2 months

Text

what we used to be | XV

Pairing: Eli Moskowitz x Fem!Reader

Summary: You didn't think joining Miyagi-Do would end your friendships. But thankfully, you're making new ones.

Warnings: dojo rivalry, karate training, swearing, mentions of heartbreak

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: A short chapter but its a good one! Have ch 16 done but I'm gonna give it some time to post cause then it'll give me time to edit ch 17. But we're closing out season 2 with ch 17 and season 3 is next! I already have up to season 4 planned out and a little written, still brainstorming for season 5 and even s6 lol!

Thank you to those who already reblog and comment, I see you and I love you all for it!

I don't consent to this work being copied, translated or reposted.

You frowned as another message to Aisha and Tory went unread. A few days ago, they were blowing up your phone, asking if you were okay. You were guilty that you didn’t respond, but you were going through so much heartbreak. You didn’t want to bother.

Now that you were part of Miyagi-Do and you felt happier, you decided it was time to reach out, the only thing—your friends weren’t responding.

Defeated, you walked through the dojo, phone pressed against your ear as it rang. Relief filled you when Aisha answered.

“I’ve been worried sick, you guys haven’t been answering,” you began.

Two voices scoffed.

“So now you’re worried?” Tory asked in disbelief.

“Of course, I am,” you furrowed your brows. “You guys are my friends.”

“Funny, I didn’t know traitors are classified as friends,” Aisha accused.

Confusion filled you. “What are you talking about?”

Tory muttered under her breath and she was annoyed, allowing Aisha to answer.

“We saw you hanging out with Miyagi-Do the other day and we confirmed with Moon that you joined,” Aisha said.

“We thought you just left Cobra Kai, but joining the enemy?” Tory questioned, disappointment filled in her tone.

“I didn’t think I was going to join Miyagi-Do,” you defended.

“So what? You accidentally joined?” Aisha scoffed. “Sorry about you and Hawk breaking up but joining Miyagi-Do is a low blow. Enjoy your new friends,” she said before hanging up.

You stared at your phone in disbelief.

“Everything alright?” Sam asked, holding onto the punching bag to stop it. She glanced at you with wonder, her brow raised and blue eyes sparkling in the sunlight.

“Aisha and Tory completely blew me off, some friends,” you shook your head. “Sorry, I know you don’t like Tory.”

You frowned, knowing their history. But after what had happened, you didn’t like her so much either.

“Don’t apologize, if they can’t see you’re trying to be better, then that’s on them,” she shrugged before going back to her warm-ups, her punches becoming stronger.

You shrugged off your backpack, warming up alongside her until the rest of the guys showed up.

Mr. LaRusso was nowhere to be seen and with the summer heat, you all made it under a tree in the dojo. Still, the shade wasn’t enough to keep you from burning.

“Oh God, it’s so hot out,” Demitri gasped. “I’m sweating in places I didn’t even know had pores,” he wiped his forehead against your shoulder.

You grimaced at the sweat, shrugging him off.

“Alright guys, get out from under that tree. It’s time to work,” Sensei said.

You all groaned as you got up, the small movement troubling in the excessive heat.

“Mr. LaRusso, it’s like 100 degrees out,” Robby complained. “Can’t we take it easy today?” He was saying what you were all thinking.

“Are you kidding? This heat wave is a gift. Today you are going to experience Shochu-Geiko,” he smiled.

You arched a brow.

“Like the car insurance?” Chris asked.

“Shochu-Geiko is a Japanese exercise where you train during the hottest days of the year,” he explained. “It’s about pushing yourself to the limit. The fight isn’t always gonna come when it’s 75 degrees and breezy.”

“Aren’t we supposed to avoid the fight?” Sam questioned.

You nodded. The whole reason you joined Miyagi-Do in the first place was to stop fighting.

“Sometimes you can’t,” he sighed. “Someday, the fight might come to you. And I want to make sure you’re ready,” he gazed hopefully. “So today, we’re gonna see what Miyag-Do is made of.”

That’s how you found yourselves formed in a circle out front. The sun beating down as Robby stood in the center, waiting for Mr. LaRusso to call out a number.

“Two!”

One of your classmates ran towards Robby but he punched him right in the chest, sweeping his leg and sending him to the ground.

Everyone reassembled.

“Five!”

Sam blocked Robby’s kick before spinning around and landing one straight on his abdomen. “Got you,” she smiled, their gaze lingering.

You sent Demitri an amused glance, one he didn’t match as he let out a groan.

“Alright, Demitri’s turn. Come on, Demitri get in there,” Sensei encouraged.

He reluctantly sighed before going in the middle. He raised his fists before Mr. LaRusso called a number out.

“Three!”

It didn’t take much for Chris to punch him in the stomach.

Figuring it was just a rough beginning, you waited for the next number, which happened to be yours.

“Seven!”

You lunged towards him. You wanted to give Demitri a chance to fight you off but it was so easy sweeping your leg and watching him fly to the ground.

“I hate this!” Demitri groaned.

“Alright, get up!” Sensei encouraged.

You offered your hand, helping him up. “Sorry, Demitri.”

He reluctantly forgave you, putting his weight on you as you made it back to your spots.

“Can we please take a break? This heat is brutal,” Sam sighed.

You all agreed.

“You guys want to cool off?”

“Alright, I think I can accommodate that,” he grinned.

You were hoping for a trip to the pool, not a freaking freezer storage.

“So, you couldn’t take the heat of Shochu-Geiko, perhaps you’ll find Kangeiko more to your liking,” he smiled with that same grin from earlier.

You shivered as you stood in the middle of the room, regretting you wore a tank top today.

“There are no “geikos” that take place in a spa?” Sam asked, the cold evident in her breath.

“It’s not about the heat or the cold. It’s about adapting to the environment around you and using that to your advantage” he said. “Look around, what do you see?”

“Frozen London Broil?” Chris asked.

You snickered.

“No, not the meat, look past that. I see the exhalation of breath,” he pointed to Sam. “The twitch of a muscle,” he glanced at Robby. “The shift of a stance,” he pointed to Demitri. “If you lean into the cold, it will heighten your senses,” he said. “And then you’ll anticipate the moment before your opponent strikes and you’ll always be ready,” he concluded.

You understood what he meant, noticing signs too.

His phone began ringing, hesitating to answer before he told you all to circle up, taking the call.

Now ready, you stood in your place. You watched Sam move about in the circle, looking out for obvious clues. She blocked Chris’s strike before Robby’s turn. They both battled, neither hitting the other and they stopped as they got lost in each other’s eyes.

You used to look at Eli that way. Your heart ached, memories flooding through but they were interrupted when Mr. LaRusso interrupted.

“All right, let’s get Demitri in there,” Mr. LaRusso said.

“Alright, here goes nothing,” he sighed. “Literally.”

He got kicked right in the stomach.

You sighed out in slight disappointment, knowing he had it in him.

“I can’t do it, Mr. LaRusso. Between the cold and the shouting and the hole in my sock. I’m not sure when that happened but it’s really uncomfortable,” he began complaining.

You rolled your eyes. Knowing your friend, he always had something to complain about.

“Demitri, you are the most neurotic person I know. You always expect the worst,” Sensei approached him.

Demitri sighed in agreement, a bit reluctant about it though.

“But you can use that to your advantage. It means you anticipate. Think of it like a spidey sense,” he stated.

“Actually in the comics, they call it Spider-Sense,” your friend corrected.

“Look, Demitri, this isn’t about who’s fastest and who’s strongest. It’s about instincts, using what’s in here,” he pointed to his head, your friend getting it now.

With some confidence, he took his stance, raising his fists.

“Two!” Mr. LaRusso called out.

Demitri noticed Chris, blocking his first strike and his second before he punched him in the gut.

You cheered for your friend, and the rest of the class too.

Unfortunately, he didn’t get the next person.

“Baby steps! It’s alright!” Mr. LaRusso reassured.

You patted Demitri on the back, the rest of the class crowding around you.

“Sam and I are more like acquaintances than friends,” you said.

It was unexpected to have Moon reach out. Knowing your situation with Aisha and Tory and now barely knowing Sam, it was good to have a friend.

“I’m sorry about telling Aisha that you joined Miyagi-Do, I didn’t think this rivalry was that bad,” she said, frowning as she sat on her bed.

“Don’t worry about it, I guess I would’ve had to tell them sooner or later,” you shrugged, sitting across from her.

“Listen, I’m glad we’re doing this, I really meant what I said about being friends. I did want to give you space though,” she offered, tipping her head to the side.

“Thanks, Moon,” you smiled.

It’d been a few months since she apologized before the All Valley. You never considered reaching out, still hurt that she wasn’t true to her word about showing you she was serious. But now she is and better late than never, right?

“So how are doing? With the breakup and everything?” She searched your eyes.

“Heartbreaking,” you hummed self-deprecatingly. “Eli was the first boy I ever loved, love,” you corrected. “I have karate as a distraction, but honestly, sometimes I just want to reach out,” you sucked in a breath. “Am I crazy?” You glanced at her.

“Not at all,” she shook her head. “It’s normal to experience that after breaking up. And considering how long you’ve known Hawk, your souls are connected. Best friends, boyfriend-girlfriend, first loves,” she listed, growing giddy. “I can’t imagine having a close bond with someone and it would suck to be apart even if it’s for the best,” she explained.

“That makes sense then,” you raised a brow. “The longest I spent without Eli was when he’d go to sleepaway camp with Demitri. That was only for a few weeks, this has been almost two months,” you hummed, shocked at the realization. “Thanks for being a friend,” you smiled genuinely.

“It’s nothing,” she giggled. “But as a friend, I have something I want to give to you,” she said, reaching under her bed and pulling out a wrapped gift. “I had this saved for the right moment. You’re right when you said talk is cheap,” she handed it to you.

You hesitated, eyeing her weirdly before you took it and unwrapped the gift, finding a lime green sketchbook.

“Moon, you didn’t have to,” you gasped slightly.

“I did,” she stopped you. “I hurt you, Y/N. I destroyed your property and I can’t undo what I did, but I want us to start new,” she sincerely said.

You grinned, leaning in to hug her and you felt happy as she returned it.

“Thank you,” you beamed. “It does mean a lot.”

#eli moskowitz x reader #eli moskowitz #eli moskowitz imagine #hawk x reader #cobra kai

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jeonbunnie · 1 year

Text

nervous

pairing: reader x jeongguk

anonymous requested: “I have another idea for a fic I hope that's okay... it's a post break up angst durabble based on the song nervous by gavin james with jungkook they share a friend group and they see each other again I'll leave the pov up to you..”

summary: Jeongguk runs into his ex-girlfriend over the holidays.

genre: slight angst; fluff;

soundtrack: nervous—gavin james

content/warnings: exes to lovers; established relationship; nonidol!au; college!au; whipped!jk; shy!reader/ warning may make you die of cuteness

a/n: I know this request was supposed to be angsty but it ended up being fluffy I’m sorry! I needed a cute ending. hope I made it up to you by putting it in jk’s pov! also shout out to @mynovia for the winter fic encouragement kith kith ily ♡

word count: 1.9k

♪ I promise that I'll hold you when it's cold out. ♪

“You’re leaving already?”

Jeongguk caught you outside the front door. You’re shrugged on your coat, breathing out little puffs of it to the cold winter air.

You look over your shoulder at him, and even though it’s below 20 degrees, Jeongguk feels himself melting on the spot.

“Yeah,” you said, “I feel a bit tired. Think I should go home.”

Jeongguk doesn’t want to see you leave the party early. Because even though it’s been a year since you broke up and went your separate ways—Jeongguk was still in love with you.

The realization came like a shot to the heart when you walked into the holiday party and locked eyes with him, just as you did the year before.

Love wasn’t even on his radar when he met you. It was the summer before senior year, and all he could think about were the two years he had left with his friends before college changed everything.

Then you showed up out of the blue one night. Jeongguk couldn’t remember who threw the house party, but he remembered you, coming in with your girlfriends in your baby blue sweater, locking eyes with him across the room.

Jeongguk knew he’d love you the minute he saw you, like hearing the first few notes of a new song and knowing the melody would end up as your favorite.

The way your face lit up when Jennie introduced you two. . .your smile made his heart sing the minute he saw it, and it hasn’t stopped singing for you since.

He planned on spending the summer solely with the guys: trips to the ocean, wild hangouts, and late-night drives. Instead, he spent the whole summer falling in love with you.

Until he fucked it all up.

“Is someone driving you?” asked Jeongguk, desperately hoping the answer was no. Because deep down, he couldn’t stand the idea of you leaving with another man.

You shake your head, inching out more towards the front porch. “I was going to walk. You know I don’t live far.”

“Walk? In this weather?” It was still snowing out, and even though you looked beautiful in the midst of it, hair glittering wet with snow, Jeongguk was too worried about you to even be relieved by the fact that you were unaccompanied.

“You’ll catch a cold.”

You fixed him with a bored look. “Ok. Then I’ll call an Uber.”

“That’s a waste of money.”

You laughed, the sound soft like tinkling bells. “Well, if I can’t walk and I can’t take an Uber, how do you expect me to get home?”

“Let me drive you.”

Instantly your expression blinked from amusement to surprise. And Jeongguk couldn’t tell if that was good or bad (good, he hoped, because that meant he still had a chance).

“Oh, no. You don’t have to do that,” you said, waving him off. “I’ll be fine—”

“I don’t mind.”

“You don’t want to stay with the guys?” You said, pointing back at the cheers and laughter still humming inside.

He shook his head. He could care less. He went to the same university as Jimin and Taehyung, so he could see them whenever he wanted to. It was harder to catch the Ivy Leagues, but his hyungs always made time to meet up. You, however, were hard to find, and he wouldn’t make the same mistake as before and let you go so quickly this time.

“Please?” He asked.

You sigh as you nod, but Jeongguk’s too elated to care. He grabbed his jacket from the coat rack and the red scarf you left behind as you hastily tried to escape the party.

“You forgot this,” he said, rushing to catch up to you.

You thank him as you take the scarf from his hands, trying to keep your hair off your neck and wrap the scarf around you properly. It’s a bit of a struggle, and Jeongguk can’t help but reach for you, one hand sinking in your hair so he can wrap your scarf around you.

You looked up at him then, and it hit like a punch to the gut because your eyes were sparkling, your lips matched the ruby red of your sweater, and all Jeongguk wanted was to kiss you underneath the mistletoe. But he’s not sure you’d like that. So instead, he pulled his hands back, fingertips brushing against your neck.

You sucked in a breath and pulled away at the contact, tucking your chin into your chest. “Thank you. . .” you muttered.

Jeongguk has to hide his smile at your reaction, happy to have some effect on you. Maybe there was still a chance.

He led you to his car, carefully opening your door first before getting in. In his head, this was the part of the plan where he fixed things. He’d make small talk, and after a while, something would feel like before, when the two of you were inseparable, just like high school, when everything was easy. When you were his best friend and his dream girl and kissing you was more than just a memory.

But the car ride to your house is chilly, and it’s not because of the weather. It’s because Jeongguk was too nervous to talk to you.

He’s too nervous to tell you that he missed you, your good conversation, and how you make him laugh till his stomach aches.

Too nervous to tell you that he wished you’d never broken up before college, that he should have fought for you and made it work long distance.

Too nervous to tell you that you’re the only girl he’s ever really loved.

At the time, it made sense to end the relationship so early. School was starting back up, and he’d only have had the year to spend with you before you’d both have completely different lives going to other universities.

How could he know that the butterflies he felt when you were around weren’t just because you were riding a carnival ride? That the fireworks he saw when you first kissed went far beyond the sight at the top of the Ferris wheel?

He should have never put an expiration date on your love. Now things between you were sour. And the fact that he couldn’t talk to you left a bitter taste in his mouth.

In a last-ditch effort to make conversation, Jeongguk brings up your entrance, the only time you were in the same room with him tonight.

“I was surprised you showed up.”

“I could see that. Anyone could have read the shock on your face when I walked into the room.”

Jeongguks gripped the steering wheel, tensing up at the discontent in your tone. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant I didn’t think you’d want to come.”

You bristled. “Why wouldn’t I want to come? They’re my friends too.”

Shit. “That’s not—I just meant,” Jeongguk stopped, voice drying up as he tried to find the words. “I was happy to see you.”

“Oh.”

Oh. Jeongguk bit his lip, toying with the piercing on the side. This conversation was going terribly. Maybe he read you wrong earlier. It could be that you felt nothing for him, and any chance he had with you had already passed him by.

It’s quiet for a beat. Jeongguk looked over to see you fidgeting with your hands in your lap, and he wished he could hold your hand in his.

Reluctantly, Jeongguk pulled up in front of your house. “I’ll walk you to your door,” he said, coming around to release you from the passage’s side.

You started to make a big fuss, but Jeongguk opened your door before you could further protest. And even though the car ride was tense, he couldn’t help but laugh at your cute flustered face.

“You don’t have to be so nice to me,” you said, full pout on your lips.

Jeongguk wanted to kiss it off your face. But he didn’t. “I know,” he said. “I want to.”

The walk-up to your door is freezing. Jeongguk wanted to take your hand and bring you close or say something—anything—to keep you from walking away, but it was too damn cold; he couldn’t even think straight.

You fished for your keys in your purse and shivered as you unlocked the door. The warmth from inside floods in, blanketing you both for a second. You turned to face him awkwardly. “Well, goodnight.”

“Goodnight, (Y/n),” sighed Jeongguk. He turned around, mentally kicking himself for not making a moment, not kissing you under the mistletoe, and losing you again.

He was halfway off your lawn when he heard your voice call out to him.

When he whipped around, you were still standing outside, freezing your ass off in your holiday dress, with the door wide open, when you should be inside.

“Why?” You said.

“What?”

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

Jeongguk froze, but not from the temperature. It’s your question that gives him pause. And just like that, it all clicked into place. Forgetting your scarf at the door, startling at his touch, wringing your hands—you were nervous. Maybe you were just as nervous, if not more nervous, than he was.

Jeongguk was too in his head to realize it before, but he could see the hope on your face, and for once, he knew exactly what to say.

“Because I care about you. Because even though it’s been over a year, I’m not over you, and I wish we never broke up,” said Jeongguk, closing the distance between you.

“Because I’ve been waiting for a chance to see you again; I’m so scared I’m going to mess things up and live another year without you. And I don’t want to do that. I want to be the one to drive you home and hold your hand and kiss you goodnight instead of saying goodbye.”

Standing in front of you, he’s close enough to see the snowflakes land on your lashes. And because he knows you won’t say it if he doesn’t say it first: “Because still, I love you.”

The words are soft and quiet as they settle in the air between you.

“Oh.”

This time when you say it, Jeongguk chuckles. “Oh? I pour my heart out to you, and the only thing you can say is, ‘oh?’”

“Sorry,” you said with a bashful smile on your lips. “I don’t know what to say. I just. . .I want to kiss you. Can I kiss you now?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

At last, Jeongguk got his wish. He pressed his lips to yours, sighing when you leaned into his touch as he cupped your cheek. He gave you the sweetest kiss he could, offering it like a promise to keep you close and a prayer to keep you forever.

You beamed up at him when he pulled away, smiling brighter than any holiday light. “I love you, too,” you said.

Your words made Jeongguk’s heart race like a kid’s on Christmas morning.

Without a second thought, he lifted you by your thighs, peppering you with kisses as he carried you inside the house. You giggled, holding onto him for dear life, and your laughter warmed him up from the cold.

There’s no rush because Jeongguk knows he has the new year to love you.

#btshoneyhive #bangtanbathhouse #btswritingcafe #jungkook fic #jeongguk fic #jungkook #bts #bts fic #bts drabble #my fics.🍪#poc reader #songfic

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flowerbetweenfangs · 26 days

Text

Lips of an Angel

No content warning, just good old fashioned m/m love.

Originally posted on A03

Will sighed and stretched his arms above his head as he watched his computer screen switch off. Pulling out his cellphone, he clocked out for the day. Rubbing his temples, he leaned back in his chair.

Another week of work done. The sweet release of the weekend dangled in front of him. And by release, it would be another friday and saturday at the bar, nursing cocktails and inhaling greasy food that was probably doing worse things to his body than the alcohol.

But it was routine at this point. He found himself putting on his sneakers and pulling on his jacket. Keys and wallet already in his pocket, he sighed. Pulling out a ponytail holder, he pulled back his hair. He’d have to get it cut soon. The work from home life had him starting to be sloppy with his looks.

The bar was up the street from his apartment. It was a small hole in the wall that served its purpose: getting people drunk and their inhibitions lowered. Everyone was there to have a good time, maybe take it back to their place.

It was a dimly lit room, smoke from the kitchen wafting over to anyone who decided to sit across from the bartender. Jo gave him a nod of acknowledgment, hands moving dexterously as she mixed something for the man in front of her. Once she filled the glass, he took it with thanks, sliding his payment to her, then leaving a folded up bill in the tip jar. The amount of green made Will almost envious.

“Your usual, Will?” She asked, grabbing bottles to start the mix.

“You know it.” He smiled, then sat close to the wall. Turning toward the bar, he saw a few people playing pool. A couple of newcomers, an older man and someone young enough to be his son. The older man was white haired, with rosary beads hanging out of his pocket. But despite the religious item, he wore a simple black t-shirt and blue jeans, leather wristbands fastened up his arms.

The younger’s hair was ash blonde, pulled back into a tail, wire framed glasses covering his eyes, the dim light making quite a glare. His clothes clung to his body, showing off a muscular physique. Tan athletic tee, with dark jeans. When he bent over to line up his shot, quite a few heads turned or necks craned. As the cue slid back and forth between his thumb and forefinger, Will noticed an eye tattooed on the back of his hand.

Will felt the glass hit his fingers, and it jostled him out of his staring. Picking up the drink, he tilted it to Jo and then started to sip at it.

“You got any change?” A voice drawled next to him.

A woman stood next to the jukebox, her hair curtained around her face. Her cheeks were flushed. She was in a blue sundress, with leaves patterned up and down the skirt.

“Sorry.” He shook his head. “But there’s a card reader.” Taking another sip, he tapped the bar. Jo whirled around and called out an order to the cook. The hiss of the deep fryer was loud, drowning out all the chatter in the bar.

They could use some tunes. Will left his drink and went to the jukebox and flipped through the songs.

“Can I make a request, Mr. DJ?” The woman asked. Her eyes were icy blue, sending a chill up his spine. The all too familiar hunger that set him on edge.

“One song,” He said, holding up a finger. No need to cause a scene if she was being polite.

She pouted, but nodded. The chill went from his spine to his stomach, and formed a weight that made him feel uneasy. He’d be sticking to the bar and Miss Jo, it seemed.

After making a playlist, Will stepped back and caught another look at the pair playing pool. They were chatting, with the older guy waving. After a moment, he went and put the cue back, before heading out the door.

Going back to the bar, Will sat and sighed. There was now a heaping plate of nachos next to the half empty drink. He took a few bites and washed them down with the rest of his cocktail.

“So, what does a guy gotta do for fun around here?” The stranger’s voice made Will straighten and turn around on the barstool.

“You’re probably in the most lively spot.” Will admitted. The woman had gone to the other side of the bar, talking to a pair of men. The hair on the back of Will’s neck stood up.

“Hmm.” The stranger picked up a pale ale, sipping it. He leaned on the bar. His eyes were hazel, but looked almost golden in the dim room. “Well, that’s good then. I like the quiet.” Setting down the bottle, he held out his hand to Will.

“Thomas.” The eye on the back of his hand seemed to glower at the other occupants of the bar.

“Will.” He returned the handshake, the cold from the bottle clinging to the stranger’s hand. “Just moved here?”

“Passing through for work,” Thomas sat down on the barstool, swiveling it back and forth and sipping from the ale. “But I wanted to see if there was fun to be had while I was here.”

“Am I giving off that much of a vibe?” Will chuckled, taking his freshly filled drink.

“Huh?” Thomas asked, arching a brow.

“... Nevermind.” Will shook the plate of nachos. “But the way, these are to die for.”

Thomas picked up a chip with a heaping amount of cheese and meat on it. Most of the liquid dribbled onto his fingers. He ate it, before noisily sucking on his fingers.

Now that was just unfair. Will turned toward the bar, trying to subtly hunch over.

“A little salty for my taste, but the meat’s good enough,” Thomas said, sticking out his perfectly pink tongue and winking. He finished off his ale and then called for Jo.

“Let me get another drink, and one for him.”

Will fumbled with Thomas’ shirt, pulling it over the man’s head. A silver cross swung back and forth, a braided cord holding it around his neck. It seemed to be engraved, but Will’s eyes were elsewhere, hungrily looking over the body behind it. This wouldn’t be the first time he’d done things one would consider sacrilegious while people wore their holy symbols.

He’d personally left the faith a long time ago.

Their lips crashed together again, Thomas’ fingers twisting in his hair. That perfectly pink tongue pushed its way into Will’s mouth.

The taste of the pale ale was faint, which put Will a little more at ease. At least Thomas wasn’t blind drunk. They hadn’t been knocking back drinks, but it was always a gamble he hated taking when he took someone home.

Glasses askew, Thomas slipped his hands under Will’s shirt and slid it up. Lips trailed across his chest and stomach. Skin prickling and nipples pebbling, Will let out a groan. Back to his front door, Will eyed his bedroom.

Thomas had another eye tattoo on his left pec, right below his nipple, and another above his navel. It was odd, but at least it wasn’t anything hateful.

Readjusting his glasses, Thomas gave a soft chuckle. “I’ll admit, when I saw the woman eyeing you up at the bar… I knew I had to make my move.”

“Well, I’m glad you did.” Will pressed their bodies together. Scorching hot flesh, stomach, chest, hips…

Thomas dropped to his knees, starting to unbuckle Will’s belt. His hands were moving so fast, Will barely had time to react.

“Hold it!” Will put the heel of his palm to Thomas’ forehead. The motion seemed to stun him. Slowly, he looked up.

“What?” The tip of Thomas’ tongue poked out of his lips. It waggled back and forth, taunting him with what it would be doing shortly.

“Sorry, I’m a bit anal about this… No pun intended.” Will rolled his eyes at the wording and staggered out of Thomas’ grip to the bedroom. He was so hard it was hurting to walk. Every bit of friction from his clothing was agony on his cock.

When he pulled open the drawer on the nightstand, he retrieved a condom and a bottle of lube. He’d have to go out and buy more of both soon.

Thomas hung in the doorway, studying Will with crossed arms. His amber eyes flashed with lust. The piercing gaze made Will’s cock twitch, a wet spot forming on the fabric of his pants. God, he needed to fuck this man soon.

“You put that on…” Thomas said, walking over and slipping a hand into Will’s waistband. “I’ll take these off.” He unbuckled the belt, his eyes never leaving Will’s.

Once the pants hit the floor, Thomas eased down Will’s briefs. His quickly dampening head was already poking out of the waistband. Precum dribbled from the tip as the fabric slid down his thighs.

Slipping on the condom, Will sat on the bed. Thomas moved between his knees, parting them. His mouth wrapped around Will’s length, taking it in easily. As he bobbed his head back and forth, he caressed Will’s balls and stroked his thigh.

It was heavenly. Will tilted his head back and let the sensation roll over him. The hot and wet mouth did its job, making him feel the pleasure as though the condom wasn’t even there.

“If you’re this good all the time,” Will panted, pressing his hand on Thomas’ head to make him take it to the back of his throat. “I hope your job relocates you here.” Rocking his hips, he thrust upward.

Opening his mouth wide, Thomas gagged, the sensation nearly making Will explode. Drawing his head back, he looked up at Will, as if asking for approval. His lips came off the cock, before he began to trail his tongue up and down the shaft.

“Too much at once?” Will asked, feeling his cheeks burn. He cupped Thomas’ cheek, putting a thumb to his lips.

Thomas gave a quick nod, giving Will’s length a few strokes. His shoulders and chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath. The lust seemed to be gone, but his actions weren’t slowing. Metal glinted as the cross swung back and forth.

“Be a little more gentle with me, please?” Lips went back to the tip, tongue swirling.

Burying his fingers in the nearly white hair, Will made a fist and pumped back and forth, making sure to be slower. Thomas’ mouth was tight and warm. The sucking sent a pleasant buzz through Will’s body.

“Your mouth feels really good,” Will moaned, tilting his head back. “You suck as well as you smooth talk.”

The chuckle that came from Thomas nearly brought Will to a climax. He managed to control himself. All this edging was going to do a number on him. Sweat formed on his upper lip and brow as his shoulders began to itch.

“What time is it?”

The question made Will shake his head. Fogs of lust muddled his brain, making it hard to register what was being asked.

“Ermm…” He fumbled for his phone, managing to grab it. Thomas’ mouth never left his cock, the sucking seeming to grow harder and faster. Clenching, Will managed to keep himself from cumming, despite Thomas’ best efforts.

It was nearly 3 am. They’d left right after last call. He hoped that he wasn’t keeping Thomas up too late. Then again, what even was Thomas’ job? Would lack of sleep affect it?

Thomas pulled himself off Will, panting hard. Rubbing his jaw, he looked at the erection, as if pondering what to do.

“Do you want to stop and leave?” Will peeled off the condom, more pre cum drooling out the tip of his cock. He hoped the answer was no.

“Just wanted to know…” Thomas panted, his fingers resting on his fly. “Do you… Want me to leave?”

Will shook his head. “Just got caught off guard by the question, is all.” He got a fresh condom as Thomas slipped off his pants.

He was wearing black briefs, which he quickly tugged off. The black eye gave way to golden hair on his groin. His cock was dripping, twitching with his heartbeat. Like the rest of his body, it was glistening with sweat.

The erection rubbed against him as Thomas’ lips crashed into Will’s again. Hand stroking Will’s length, Thomas let out soft moans.

Reaching out, Will stroked Thomas’ tip and shaft, getting a few whimpers and more precum dribbling down his fingers. Parting their kiss, Thomas bit his lips, squeezing his eyes shut as he thrust into Will’s grip.

“I almost don’t want you to let me go.” Chuckling nervously, he smiled and licked his lips. Panting hard, he let himself rub against Will’s grip a little longer. Warm breath tickled Will’s mouth as Thomas stared at his covered cock.

Straddling Will’s thighs, he kissed his lips, his neck, and the v of his collarbone. His thumb brushed against the curve of Will’s jaw, before he pulled back.

Thomas laid on his stomach, spreading his legs. His ass was perfectly round and muscled, his thighs thick and firm. Between this and his face, it was hard to pick which to look at.

Will lubed himself up, easing a finger into Thomas. Hissing with pain, Thomas clenched, making a fist into the sheets. Despite wanting to yank himself back, Will pulled out slowly. He prayed he wasn’t taking some poor stranger’s first time.

“Easy…” Will urged. “You’re gonna pull something.” Or break his finger. A trip to the hospital would have been a bad way to end the night.

“Sorry,” Thomas let go, taking in deep breaths. “Believe it or not, I don’t do this often.” He chuckled softly, the sound sending that pleasant buzz through Will again. His cheeks were bright red, although there was plenty of blood to keep him rock hard.

Will nodded, leaning over Thomas’ body. Through his fingertips, he could feel Thomas’ heart racing. Trailing his nails over Thomas’ back, Will felt the gooseflesh forming.

Easing his digit back into Thomas, he slipped it back and forth. Thomas let out whimpers, grabbing one of the pillows and burying his face into it. Even muffled, the noises drove Will crazy. His cock felt like it was about to rip through the condom.

Adding another helping of lube, Will lined himself up.

“Just let me know if you want to stop,” His lips brushed against Thomas’ ear as he spoke. Thomas let out a shuddering breath in response, wriggling his ass as Will.

As he slipped inside, Thomas gasped. Grabbing the sheets again, he kept a white knuckled grip as Will pushed in deeper. He was tight as the fist he was making.

“Fuck…” Will brushed hair from his eyes, giving his hips a few test rocks. Thomas gasped at the motion.

“Keep going,” Thomas grunted. “I can take it…”

Placing his arms on either side of Thomas, Will began to thrust. Thomas yelped, burying his face into the pillows again. Closing his eyes, he continued to rock back and forth, letting sensation take over.

Thomas’ gasps turned from pained to excited, then slipped into moans. Will increased his speed, thrusting harder and deeper, pressing himself completely onto Thomas. Their skin was slick with sweat, their bodies slipping over one another. Seizing Thomas’ hair, Will turned his head back, their lips meeting.

Moaning into his mouth, Thomas nibbled on Will’s lip, before tossing back his head Will seemed to hit the right spot. His whole body clenched, jizz spurting from his cock.

The motion made Will grunt, and he finally let himself go over the edge. Even with the condom, he could see some white fluid on Thomas’ ass. Slowly, he eased himself out. Thomas’ body completely collapsed onto the bed, his hair falling around his head in a halo. A few strands clung to his temple, which Will found himself kissing.

“Let's get you cleaned up…” He muttered into Thomas’ brow.

In the darkness, a pair of eyes fell onto Thomas. He could feel them. Will’s sleeping form was in the crook of his elbow, dark hair falling over his chest. Tracing his thumb over Will’s shoulder, Thomas looked back and forth.

Then, he saw the icy blue eyes in the window. Wisps of brown hair twisted in the wind. The eye on the back of Thomas’ hand opened, a beacon of white piercing through the darkness. The cross around his throat changed into a dagger, the leather cord forming the hilt. At the sight of the gleaming metal, the demon’s features twisted and it let out a soundless scream.

It spiraled and turned into the shadows, vanishing as the first rays of dawn began to peek through the window.

He’d brought the people of this quiet town another night of peace. And he was fine with that.

#monster love #monsterlove #monster lover #monsterlover #monster fucker #monsterfucker #monster boyfriend #monster x human #angel #angel x human #fallen angel #m/m romance #m/m #m/m fiction

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shes-homeward-bound · 2 years

Text

Crash and Burn | Chapter 7

Summary: You’re the first female driver to compete in the Formula 1 World Championship in decades and it’s your second year of navigating through a male-dominated sport. Your talent and drive to prove yourself made you vicious on the grid. Your seemingly unshakeable confidence was never questioned- until a certain Ferrari driver made you crash and burn.

Pairing: Carlos Sainz Jr. x Reader

Chapters: 7/?

Warnings: swearing, drinking, angst

Word Count: 4.4k

posted: 08/23/2022

masterlist

A/N: angst, angst, angst. It’s here y’all. I hope you enjoy the chapter and feel free to comment! Remember that this is fiction.

Chapter 7:

Hot water cascades down your body as you scrub all remnants of champagne down the drain. You were finally calming down from the high of getting a podium when you remembered how strange Carlos was acting. You had just finished the driver’s interviews and you kept missing Carlos. You would see him from afar but every time you’d try to go him, you’d get whisked away to another reporter. You and Anna had just stepped into Aston Martin hospitality when you saw Carlos Senior and Reyes waiting for you.

“Y/n!” said Reyes as she gave you a big hug. “Congratulations, my dear!”

Carlos Senior pats you in the back. “That was some of the best driving I have ever seen, Driver of the Day was well deserved.”

You thank and hug them tight. Carlos’s parents were ecstatic that the two of you were together. Even if you had just started your relationship, Reyes and Carlos Sr. were more than happy to accept you into the family. You were just about to ask them if they knew where their son was when you see your boyfriend in the corner of your eye.

Letting go of his parents, you see Carlos with a sheepish grin on his face. “I’ve been looking for you!” you said as you hugged him tightly. You leaned in for a kiss but remembered that you were still in public.

“I’m so sorry, I was trying to get to you but it was chaos and I kept getting pushed back. But enough about me, I’m so proud of you for getting that podium today,” said Carlos.

You were about to tell him he could’ve approached you during the interviews when your eyes went wide. You were so excited about your podium that you forgot all about you, Daniel, and Carlos spinning off the track and his DNF. “Oh my goodness, Carlos! Your DNF, I’m so sorry.”

Carlos shrugged, trying to act like his DNF didn’t bother him. “It sucks but what matters is that we are both okay.”

Not even bothering to check that no one was looking, you entwined your fingers as you pulled his hand towards your chest. You had gotten into a habit of doing this whenever you felt like you both needed comfort. You remember him smiling down at you but it felt like he wasn’t telling you something.

You get out of the shower and do your routine as you got ready for the party Max was hosting. Smoothing down the fabric of your blue cocktail dress, you tried to hype yourself up for this party. Sure, Carlos was acting a little strange but you weren’t going to let that consume your whole evening. You went from P20 to P3, you deserved to let loose and enjoy yourself.

By the time you, Anna, and her fiance arrived, the rooftop bar was filled with drivers, F1 employees, and celebrities. The music thumped as you made a beeline towards the bar and ordered drinks. With cocktails in hand, you weaved your way through the crowd to where Carlos and the boys were. To your surprise, you were greeted with a slightly wet kiss on the cheek by a tipsy Carlos.

“Carlos! They might see us!” you whispered.

Before he said anything, Daniel who was also tipsy, hugged you and gave you a big smooch on the cheek. “Awwww it’s okay. We’ll all just give you a kiss because our little podium winner deserves it.”

You roll your eyes at Daniel before shooting his girlfriend an apologetic look. She just laughed and waved it off. Feeling the music, you drag your friends to the middle of the dance floor where you all went crazy. As you danced the night away, you had your fair share of drinks. You wanted to be buzzed, not blacked out drunk but you could see that Carlos had other plans. He kept knocking back drinks like it was nothing. You’ve seen Carlos party before and he knew how to have a good time but this was excessive. Even when drunk, Carlos would somehow still be poised but what you saw was Carlos truly unhinged. He danced with everyone and got in a particularly funny slow dance with one of the Red Bull mechanics. There was one part where he had you sit on his shoulders as he paraded you around the rooftop. You were so embarrassed but Carlos insisted it was your “victory parade”. The moment Carlos tried to take over the DJ’s booth was when you and the other drivers intervened. Lando and Charles knew that he was going to reach his limit so they lead Carlos to the bar to drink water.

The rest of the boys also opted to go on water breaks or go find other friends. This left you and Pierre alone in the corner of the dance floor. Ever since you were a rookie, Pierre made sure you would always have a dance partner. It was nice spending time with Pierre, ever since you started dating Carlos you barely had time to hang out with him. You laughed as Pierre spun you around, it didn’t match with the music but it was always a fun thing that you did. As you steadied yourself, you felt a familiar grip on your waist. You look up to see that it was Carlos looking down at you with this weird mix of emotions. Was it jealousy? Anger?

“You’re back! Did you drink water?”

Carlos’s mood had somehow changed from fun and joyful to pouty and dramatic. So dramatic that Carlos was giving his longtime friend Pierre, the most murderous glare. In his extremely drunken state, he saw how happy you were dancing with Pierre and he did not like the sight of it. First of all, his Sunday was ruined by his DNF and now he was watching his friend try to steal his girlfriend. Carlos isn’t violent but that didn’t mean he wasn’t having strong feelings.

Carlos placed his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Mate, I see what you’re doing here,” he said as his words slurred together.

Lando and Charles inched closer to intervene. They had no idea what to expect because they’d never seen Carlos this drunk.

“I was just dancing with y/n. She’s just a friend, nothing more,” said Pierre as calmly as he could.

You nod as you wedged yourself between them. “Babe, you know Pierre and I are just friends.”

Carlos looks back and forth between you and just like nothing, he drops his hand from Pierre and hugs you. “Okay, I believe you.”

As he let you go, Carlos started swaying and staggering. You grabbed his arm to steady him as Lando does the same on the other side. You glance at your watch and see that it was already 3 in the morning.

“I think it’s time to call it a night. Are you guys still crashing in Carlos’s place?”

Lando and Charles nod. Since Carlos’s apartment was closer than Charles’, they planned to sleep at Carlos’s place just in case they were too drunk. You apologize to Pierre about Carlos but he just waved his hand letting you know he was okay. Anna didn’t drink so she ended up driving you and the boys off at Carlos’s place. All of Carlos’s energy had burned off at the party and he was now sprawled out in the backseat with his head on your lap. You played with his hair as you replayed the events of the night. Carlos was so inebriated and acted so strange after the race that you knew it had everything to do with his back-to-back DNFs. But there was something else he wasn’t telling you and you couldn’t figure it out. You peered down to see Carlos also lost in his muddled thoughts.

While you were contemplating what Carlos was thinking, Carlos was in mental agony. The phrase “drunk thoughts are sober words” were true, except in this case it was “drunk thoughts are sober words even his drunk self was too scared to admit”. He knew he was beyond lucky to have you in his life but the outlandish idea of you affecting his racing might be true. Carlos thought back to the last couple of weeks and realized every time he had messed up, it was somehow always connected to you. In Australia, he had a bad qualifying and he was sure it was because he was so worried about your crash with Latifi. Then this weekend he was so concerned for you after he saw your car on fire that it may have been the reason for his bad qualifying. His body gave an involuntary shiver when memories flashed of his car making a beeline to your sidepod before he swerved away last second. Maybe my bosses were right thought Carlos, maybe you were affecting him.

*******

You and the other drivers arrived at the apartment and stumbled straight for the kitchen. After a hard day of racing and a night full of partying, you were all starved and craved something greasy. You and Charles took it upon yourselves to scrounge up whatever was in Carlos’s fridge and cook it. Not long after, you and the boys were stuffing yourselves with eggs, bread covered in butter, gazpacho, and jamon. You and the guys were quick to sober up but not Carlos. Lando couldn’t believe the amount he drank and you could see that Carlos was fading fast. You bid the guys goodnight and gently lead the staggering Carlos to his bedroom.

After helping Carlos do his nighttime routine and get changed, he looks at you with a sleepy smile as you change out of your dress.

“What?” you laughed at his blissed-out expression.

“You are so beautiful. I still can’t believe you chose me after how horrible I was to you last year,” said Carlos as he flopped onto his bed.

“You weren’t that bad. You just chose to ignore me and hurt my feelings,” you teased.

“No,” slurred Carlos. “I’m talking about when I thought you paid your way into Formula One."

You stilled and looked surprised. “You thought what!?”

Carlos laughed not realizing he let out his secret. He gives you a sleepy smile, “Maybe Mattia was right about you. Maybe the world’s prettiest girl is my biggest distraction.”

Before you could ask him any more questions, he was already fast asleep. You stood there staring at Carlos overwhelmed at everything he had just said. You paced his room replaying his words.

He’s drunk, he didn’t mean any of it….right?

You warily get in bed with Carlos, instinctively Carlos reaches over to wrap his arm around your waist. Unsure of what you were feeling about him at the moment, you carefully remove his arm from you. Even if you had an exhausting day, you slept restlessly, anxious about the conversation you were going to have with Carlos.

*******

Carlos woke up to a pounding headache and the sweet smell of pancakes. He looked to the spot next to him and sees that you got up before him. Carlos downs the glass of water and ibuprofen you undoubtedly placed on his bedside table. He walked to the living room to see Lando and Charles eating pancakes while watching some random movie. They greet him but not before teasing Carlos about how drunk he was last night. He sees you sitting on the kitchen island, absent-mindedly stirring your coffee.

“Good morning!” said Carlos as he leaned in to kiss your forehead.

“Morning.”

Your lack of emotion made Carlos quirk his eyebrow. He busied himself as he stacked pancakes on his plate as he settled down on a stool, and dug in.

“Thanks for the water and medicine. Did you make the pancakes too?”

“Lando and I made them,” you murmured barely making eye contact with Carlos.

Carlos furrowed his eyebrows. “Are you okay? Do you have a headache or something?”

You let out a long breath and took a large swig of coffee, you were anxious about what he had to say.

“Last night when we were getting ready for bed, you said some things.”

“What did I say?” asked Carlos. “I was so drunk, I can only remember parts of last night.”

“You said a lot of things. You told me that at first, you thought Aston Martin took me in because I was a pay driver and I would bring sponsors in,” you said slowly, making sure your voice didn’t shake. “Is that true? Did you think I paid for my seat?”

Carlos’s jaw dropped, you were never supposed to know that. “Y/n, I am so so so sorry. I told you I was such an ass before I got to know you. Please believe that I was so ashamed when I learned the truth.”

You could feel your lower lip tremble. “So you were one of those who questioned my place in Formula One?”

“Yes, but that was before I knew how good of a driver you were,” said Carlos desperately as he tried to defend himself without insulting you further. “I was so stupid.”

“Carlos, you didn’t even bother to look at any of my races from F3 and F2? Is that why you ignored me? You didn’t think I deserved my seat?!?”

“No! That is not what happened. I am so sorry. You have to believe that I think you’re one of the best drivers on the grid!”

You were now standing over him with your arms crossed. You were aware that Lando and Charles were listening to your argument but you didn’t care. Carlos was about to say something but you held your hand up to stop him.

“There was something else, something about Mattia being right? What did he say?” you said breathing hard. You didn’t know if you were pissed or was about to cry. Maybe it was both.

“Mattia and some senior staff somehow found out about our relationship. They think that us dating is negatively affecting my racing,” said Carlos.

You stood there astonished, searching his face for any indication of a joke. “You don’t believe them right?!?”

Frustrated, Carlos runs his hands over his face and hair. “I- umm,” stuttered Carlos, his face contorted in confusion.

“You’re hesitating! What the fuck Carlos? You agree with them?”

This time Carlos stood up with his hands up in surrender. “I-I don’t know! The data supports them. Ever since we got together, I’ve had the worst luck on race weekends.”

You laughed in disbelief. “And you blame me?

“Well, no- I don’t know! I guess I get so concerned about you that I tend to mess up and it affects my racing,” said Carlos, his voice getting louder. “In Australia, your crash with Latifi must have distracted me and caused my bad qualifying. Then this past weekend in Imola, I almost hit you! My DNF was because of YOU. I had a chance of getting World Champion and now….it’s gone.”

Charles and Lando looked at each other in disbelief, shocked at Carlos’s confession. Carlos stood there wide-eyed, immediately regretting every word he said. He was never the type to have angry outbursts but here he was paying the price as he watched your face contort in anger. You heard multiple pings from phone notifications but you ignored them as you processed everything he said. Seething, you tried your best to control the tears that threatened to spill out.

“Fuck you, Carlos. Don’t blame me for your own mistakes.”

You moved to leave but the pinging and ringing around the room was nonstop. Confused, you look down at your phone and see multiple messages from Anna, your sister Elsie, and Pierre.

Anna: Hey, you might want to check the news

Anna: Call me when you see this.

Elsie: I’m so sorry. The media knows.

Pierre: Are you with Carlos? Look at the media.

Suddenly panicked, you go on Twitter and your heart dropped as you scroll through the tweets and articles. Old pictures of you and Carlos resurfaced from Mallorca along with new ones from Australia and Italy. There was nothing scandalous, you made sure of that but, there were couple-esque photos that the sneaky paparazzi managed to get. There were pictures of you working out together, in his car, and meeting each other after races. There were also pictures of you and Carlos kissing in places you thought were private. There was no denying that you two were in a relationship.

Carlos answered a phone call from his manager and he somberly looked at you as he rapidly spoke in Spanish. Charles and Lando gave up pretending they weren’t there and entered the kitchen with their phones in hand. Feeling overwhelmed, you slumped down on a chair. At this point, it wasn’t even the pictures that bothered you, it was the headlines that came with them. “Did you guys read what the media is saying?”

“Aston Martin rises and Ferrari falls,” said Lando as he read an article out loud. “Formula One fans are scratching their heads as they watched a mid-field team overtake the legendary Scuderia Ferrari. Is this due to the budding romance between Carlos Sainz Jr. and Y/n?”

“Is Aston Martin Racing Team stealing secrets from Ferrari?” Charles scoffed as he read the ridiculous clickbait title. “Aston Martin driver is spending time with Carlos Sainz Jr. and is seen entering and leaving the Ferrari garage multiple times. Is y/n using the Ferrari driver to benefit Aston Martin?”

Lando rolled his eyes. “That is the dumbest thing I’ve heard in my life. Where did these journalists get their degrees?”

You shook your head as you deleted the death threats that crazy fans had already sent you. Upon further inspection, the messages accused you of stealing from Ferrari or tainting Carlos’s career. “This is what I was scared of, I knew the media was going to be crazy but this…this is more intense than I anticipated. I’m receiving death threats for ruining Carlos’s races.”

You looked at Carlos expecting him to say something but he just stared at you, his head was pounding and his mind swirling as he processed the chaos that had just happened. Carlos cursed his drunk self for revealing his secrets, he knew he marginally fucked up and had no idea what to say without digging himself into a deeper hole.

Disappointed by his lack of words, you stood up and walked to the bedroom to gather your things. Carlos stood there frozen until Charles wildly gestured for his stupid teammate to follow you.

By the time Carlos caught up, you were throwing your things into your bag.

“Y/n! Where are you going?” said Carlos.

“I’m going back to my hotel to do some damage control because apparently, I’m stealing secrets from Ferrari. I suggest you do that too since your shitty season just got worse because of me,” you said crossly.

Hurt by the events that unfolded you couldn’t stand being in his presence any longer. You swiftly made your way out of his room, said bye to the boys, and headed down to the lobby to wait for Anna to pick you up. Like he was in a haze, Carlos slowly made his way to the kitchen where he saw Lando also packing up to leave.

“Hey, I’m going to go catch up to Y/n. I don’t think she should be alone right now, she’ll need to be with a friend.”

Carlos merely nodded before he deflated into his couch and groaned. In a matter of minutes, his entire world turned upside down and he had no idea what to do. He was sorry for his outburst and for hurting you but at that moment, he believed he was right.

*******

The last 48 hours of your life were absolute chaos. From constantly being in contact with your team and obsessively reading every news article, you were mentally and physically exhausted. You and Anna were on your way to a meeting at the Ferrari Headquarters with your Aston Martin bosses and Ferrari’s senior staff. You were so nervous, neither you nor Carlos had tried to contact each other but that didn’t surprise you. Carlos apologized for thinking you were a pay driver but he never said he was sorry blaming you for his mistakes. You were furious and didn’t plan on talking to him for a few more days but you couldn’t avoid him forever.

You arrived at HQ and sighed when you saw a group of reporters camped out and no doubt waiting for you. Needing all the good publicity you could get, you and your Aston Martin crew smiled and waved as you headed inside. You were greeted by Mattia and an official from the FIA, you were then led to a large conference room. You stopped short when you made eye contact with a haggard-looking Carlos before quickly looking away and seeing Charles next to him giving you a small wave. Mattia graciously offers you a seat and you tried not to frown when you realized it was right across from Carlos. The atmosphere was tense as the team principals and the FIA official stood at the front of the room.

“First of all, I would like to state that no one in Ferrari believes the false rhetoric that Y/n is stealing information from Ferrari,” says Mattia jokingly.

The majority of the room chuckled but you managed to politely crack a smile. You were fearful of what the teams and FIA would say about you and Carlos, you were dreading the idea of you or Carlos getting disciplined for being in a relationship. You sink into your chair but as the meeting progressed, you find yourself sitting up and feeling more positive.

You were astounded at how easy-going the FIA was about drivers being in relationships, the official discussed that there is no rule on dating, the drivers just need to ensure that once they are on the track, they have a professional relationship. There was a moment when the official asked you and Carlos to confirm that you were in fact in a relationship, you responded with a clipped “yes” while Carlos silently nodded his head. After seeing that awkward interaction, your team principals raised their eyebrows at each other after detecting the tension.

“While I’m glad Carlos and I are not in trouble, what are we going to do about the media? They are eating me alive and I’m beginning to think every news outlet hates me,” you asked.

Sara the Aston Martin PR director stood up with someone you assumed was from Ferrari’s PR team and walked to the front of the room.

“The plan is to create positive media that combats the negative media. We’ll start slow with a couple of posts on your Instagram story with glimpses of your relationship. You will need to show the media that your relationship is as strong as ever. Then sometime during race week, we will post pictures of both of you on the Aston Martin and Ferrari social media accounts. The public needs to see that there is no bad blood between the two teams,” said Sara.

You and Carlos nodded, understanding what needed to be done.

“On the bright side,” chirped the Ferrari PR director. “While the news outlets have a negative view of your relationship, the majority of fans love that Carlos and Y/n are together! I scanned Twitter, Instagram, and even Tumblr. The fans are quite happy with the pair so we thought that if we garnered enough positive public opinion, it would quickly drown out the bad media.”

You were so occupied by the awful press that you failed to notice that fans who weren’t sending you death threats were elated that you and Carlos were dating. It was nice to know that the fans were supporting you but it just made you feel guilty for the fight you and Carlos were having. The meeting ended and you and Carlos stayed seated as the conference room emptied. You crossed and uncrossed your arms as you tried to come up with what to say and to your relief, Carlos broke the silence.

“I am sorry.”

“About what?”

“Sorry that the media targeted you instead of me.”

You sighed. “Don’t you get it? It was always going to be me. Why do you think I was so nervous to be spotted together?”

Carlos shook his head. “It makes no sense. You are the one that is performing well!”

You looked at Carlos incredulously. “How do you not remember the backlash I received during testing in my rookie year? Of course, they were going to go after me, the newbie female driver, not one of F1’s golden boys! I must have read every article about us in the last two days and absolutely NO ONE has written a bad thing about you. Every article blames me and you are always the victim.”

By then, tears were flowing freely down your face as you released the pent-up emotions you’d been holding in. Carlos wanted to reach out but he knew that was the last thing you wanted.

“But,” you continued, your voice bitter. “I guess you and the media have the same opinions about me.”

Carlos had no idea what to say to you. He felt like the world’s worst boyfriend, he hated that you were crying because of him but he couldn’t get past the idea that you were why he had been performing poorly. He looked at you with hopelessness as an internal battle played out in his head. One part of him wanted to hold and console who was probably the love of his life but the other side of Carlos would do anything to win the world championship. In his silence, you wiped your tears dry as you stood up to leave. Your heart shattered when you realized that Carlos wasn’t even going to apologize or let alone talk about what he said in his apartment.

“I think we both need time and space to think about things,” you said as you fought to steady your voice. “Tomorrow I’ll post some throwback pictures from Madrid, the ones that my sister took. Then the day after, you could post some of the pictures from Australia.”

“Okay,” said Carlos quietly.

He avoided your gaze as you took one last look at him, the internal battle still occupying his thoughts. As you walked out of the room, Carlos let go of a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Carlos warily watched your retreating form through the glass doors, knowing he fucked up again and did nothing about it.

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#carlos sainz jr x reader #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x reader #f1 fanfic #formula one fanfiction #carlos sainz jr x you #f1 x you #f1 fanfiction #carlos sainz fluff

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yelenabelovasbxtch · 2 years

Text

7-Minutes in Heaven

Yelena Belova X f!reader

A/n: hey everyone! Sorry it’s been a hot min since I’ve posted. Been having some issues feeling motivated but I’ve finally been able to relax and catch up on sleep now for a couple of days and watched some tv. So, I’m ready to get back to it and also celebrate 1K followers very soon! Anyways, has anyone seen the movie crush? It’s a LGBTQ+ movie and just came out…anyways…this fic is INSPIRED by a scene in this movie! I hope you enjoy! Lmk if you wanna be added to my Yelena taglist!

Word count: 1721

Warnings: fluff, making out, angst, Yelena being a cutie

Concept: You and Yelena are secretly crushing on one another and neither of you know it. Your feelings are revealed at a party when you play 7 minutes in heaven.

Taglist: @jeyramarie @flosbelova @bridgecitybrad @justthis-stuff @chloe7076 @ailenepuff @3xbyrn320 @thorya22 @ravenclawbitch426 @mellowladyangel @wandanatvoid @amcg0605-blog @kassies-take @yelenaswife1996 @wandanatchick @yelenaslyubov

“Kate Bishop I already said no,” Yelena says in an aggravated tone as she yanks her hand out of Kate’s grasp.

“Yelena! It will be fun. You need to get out more and socialize I can’t be your only friend here.”

“You’re not my only friend.” She replies in a snarky tone.

“Oh yeah? Then who else?”

“Uhhh the spider-boy. Parker.”

“He is my friend that hangs out with us who by the way you scare every time.”

“Well, I still hang out with him so he’s my friend too now. See? That’s more than enough and I have Natasha too, I don’t need anyone else to care about and I use the term care very loosely.”

“Not even y/n?” Kate replies with a bit of tease in her voice.

Suddenly Yelena’s smile drops off her face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yelena, c’mon. It is so obvious you have feelings for her.”

“I don’t even know who this y/n is.”

“Okay Lena, if you say so, how about to prove you don’t have feelings for her, you come to the party tonight and when you see her, try your best not to freeze up and maybe I’ll believe you.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No!”

“Yes!”

“You’re not going to give this up are you.”

“Nope.”

“Fine. But I swear Kate Bishop, there will be no funny business or else.”

“You don’t scare me Belova.”

Yelena’s eyes widen as her jaw clenches in Kate’s direction.

“Okay, maybe you scare me a little. C’mon, get ready and we can head out”

Yelena, went back to her room to get changed.

“Wow, Lena, you look great! I didn’t know you owned clothing that wasn’t gym attire.”

“Yeah, Yeah.”

Yelena was wearing a beige and blue striped shirt with a long black and beige patchwork trench coat finished with black pants and a whole lot of chains and rings. Yelena wore her hair down and you could see how nicely her bangs flowed down the sides of her face. She really looked amazing, it was giving hot chick but one you don’t want to mess with.

Yelena and Kate showed up at Liz’s house for the party only about an hour late but most people were showing up around the same time anyways. As soon as they arrived Yelena practically b-lined it straight for the vodka. As she was pouring herself a drink and one for Kate she saw you walk through the door. You were wearing a beautiful sundress and had arrived with Peter and Ned. As Yelena was practically drooling over how amazing you look, as always, she poured herself another shot to calm the nerves.

“What’s wrong Belova? Somebody got you a little nervous?”

Yelena shoots Kate a look.

“Hey y/n!” Kate yells, waving her hand.

Yelena felt like she wanted to melt into the floor at this point but also knew she had to put on a face to prove to Kate she had no feelings for you.

“Hey, Kate!” you said as you pulled her in for a big hug.

As the two of you pulled apart you immediately looked over at Yelena and held your arms open as you greeted her too. Yelena felt stiff at first but then relaxed into your arms for a little but longer of a hug than you gave Kate. As the two of you looked peaceful hugging each other, Kate and Peter shot one another a confused look.

“So, what’re you drinking Lena?” you ask.

“Vodka.”

Well, that was a short conversation.

“Vodka? That sounds…fun.”

“Yes, it is. Want some?”

You had never done a proper shot before, Peter’s aunt pretty much always just bought you guys coolers and that was plenty considering you were kind of a lightweight. “Sure!” One shot can’t hurt, right?

The two of you took a shot and eventually went your separate ways after minimal conversation. Yelena always acted kind of weird around you but you never understood why. Yes, the thought crossed your mind that maybe you annoyed her, was it obvious you crushed on the blonde assassin? I mean like, who wouldn’t? She was hot, could kill you and her accent? You knew about all your friend’s “secret abilities” even though you’re not part of the team. You and Ned pretty much just helped them out whenever they needed it until Ned discovered he’s got powers too and now it’s just you on your own.

“Everyone! Gather around! We are going to play a game!” Liz yelled with Kate standing next to her.

“So, has anyone heard of the game…7-minutes in heaven?” Kate asks as all the drunk teens scream in excitement. “Well, if you don’t know the rules, they’re simple, put your phone in the bag, if yours is picked, you go 7-minutes with the other person in the bathroom. Now, granted that we aren’t barbaric if you don’t want to kiss…that’s fine. We won’t force you but you’re still going to be locked in there for 7 minutes!”

“Got it? Good. Phones in the bag!” Liz says as she holds out a pillowcase where people drop their phones in.

You were sitting with some friends from school as Yelena was quietly sipping her drink at the back of the room. About 5 rounds of 7-minutes have gone down and everyone was having a great time, laughing and drinking, then, all of a sudden, your phone got pulled out of the bag. Kate was the one pulling them and she was rummaging through them for quite a bit of time before pulling the second one out. As she holds the second phone in the air, you’re scanning the room trying to find the owner when all of a sudden your eyes land on a shocked Yelena Belova.

“Yelena?” Kate asks as she tries to find where she is.

Yelena walks to the bathroom as you follow behind as the door shuts behind the two of you and you hear the lock click from the outside.

“They know we can unlock it from the inside right?” Yelena says in a snarky tone.

“Yeah…not sure why they do that…must be for the “effect”” You say with a laugh.

The bathroom wasn’t too big but it was big enough that you could both sit next to one another with your legs out and still be about a foot away from the wall. The lights were off but the room was dimly lit with a strip of purple LED’s running along where the ceiling meets the wall.

“So…I don’t see you at Liz’s parties often.” You say in a desperate and slightly pathetic attempt to make conversation with her.

“Kate Bishop dragged me to this one she said it would be good for me so I could–” Yelena pauses.

“So…you could…what?”

“Nothing.”

You raise an eyebrow at her as you look into her eyes with purple lights reflecting in them. God, she was beautiful. The way her lips slightly downcurved unless she was smiling, her nose, oh my god her nose is perfect.

“So I could…meet…you?”

“Meet me? Yelena, we’ve met before.”

“No– That’s not what I meant, I meant– ugh. I’m sorry, I am no good at this.”

“What aren’t you good at love? Maybe I can help?” You replied with a head tilt and the biggest puppy dog expression while also being completely clueless about what she was trying to say and how difficult you were making this for her.

“I just– Kate Bishop says that I like you.”

“Kate says…? That you like me…?”

“Yes–”

“So Kate says that but you don’t…?”

“Yes– I mean no. I mean yes I do like you but Kate is the one who made me realize I do have feelings for you. I’m sorry I just– I’ve never had the ability to really have my own feelings like this before so now that I can, I just– I didn’t know what they were but now I am sure. I do in fact like you y/n. I just wanted to–”

Yelena was rambling in the most adorable way but you decided to cut her off by grabbing her face and pulling her in for a kiss that started off a little more aggressive from built-up nerves but settled into something much more soft and passionate.

Yelena was tense and nervous at first but when your lips touched all of those emotions flooded away and suddenly she felt secure and relaxed with you in her arms. As the two of you shared what were both of your first kisses, you were falling in love, even more than you already were. You both pulled away, your lips only parted about an inch from one another as your foreheads touched and your hands rested on the others cheek.

“I like you too Lena.”

Yelena’s lips curled up into a smile when she heard you speak.

“And I have something to admit…I’m actually the reason you’re here. I asked Kate to bring you because I wanted to see you too.”

Yelena’s eyes were slightly glazed over, her heart felt like it was going to explode with emotions. She’s never felt this happy before and whenever you were around it just made her automatically smile. She leaned back in to press her lips into yours and after another minute of uninterrupted making out, there were three loud knocks on the door, signalling you guys to come out.

“Want to get out of here?” You ask Yelena as she pulls you off the floor.

“Well, we have to no? That is the point? 7-Minutes and then we exit the bathroom?”

You look at Yelena and let out a small chuckle and smile as you bring your palm up to her cheek and pull her in for a light peck on the lips. “You’re adorable Lena. I meant to you want to go back to my place?”

Lena’s cheeks were a little flushed after making out but also from the slight embarrassment she was feeling from that. She nods her head with a soft smile and you grab her hand, pulling her out of the washroom, through the house and out the front door. You were taking the hot blonde assassin home tonight and god were you excited for what was to come.

— the end —

#yelena belova #mcu #marvel #florence pugh #florence pugh fanfic #cooking with flo #florence pugh smut #florence pugh x reader #yelena belova fanfiction #black widow #yelena belova fic #Yelena belova X reader #Yelena belova fluff #soft Yelena belova

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whatisthatmae · 1 year

Text

“That’s my best friend”

“That’s my best friend” || Wednesday

Synopsis: You’re Bianca’s best friend ever since you were young. Always sticking by each other,even now when you’re in high school. The best duo of them out there. Just here showing y’all’s friendship!

Warnings: Black coded, Black reader, Fem!reader,cussing, a little bit of bullying, Bianca being kind of an ass, reader is a little cocky

A/n: My debut take on Wednesday!! Hope you all like it! There’s gonna be another part to this, but an Xavier post. Sorry it’s so short!

Bianca Barclay x Fem! Reader

You woke up this morning feeling really good. Report cards come out today,but it’s really nothing to you. Majority of your life you’ve had nothing to worry about. You’re a straight A student, always has your hair done, nails always looking nice, perfect skin and more. On top of that your dark blue siren eyes made you look beautiful. What could go wrong?

Well, something went wrong. There’s a new student,they say that she came because she almost had a murder charge and that she was “special” like the rest of you. You didn’t really favor new people much. They get a lot of attention fast and it would be terrible for you. Where would you’re reputation go?

You decided not to worry about it and you made your way to the bathroom to take a shower and do your morning routine. You got dress and went out the door. By the time you left you texted Bianca trying to meet up like you always do.

8:03am

‘Hey,where are you at?’

‘I’m by the fountain,like always friend. 😂’

‘Yeah? Well,yesterday you said that and I waited for like 30 minutes!’

‘I’m sorry! I already apologized girl! I’m here now though,seriously.’

‘Mhmm, we’ll I better see you there.’

(seen)

You sighed and turned off your phone and headed out your dorm with your purse and book bag. You walked through Ophelia hall and came across Xavier, the boy that’s Bianca’s ex. He looked at you while you walked past wanting to speak with you, but not doing so knowing it’s for the best.

—————————————————————

After a few minutes of walking you made it to the fountain and you found other sirens and Bianca walking with each other. “Hey y’all!” You had a big smile on your face and waved. The smile turned down very quickly as you saw the supposed to be new girl. Wednesday? She looked like..she just walked out of a cemetery. But you minded your business to keep yourself grounded and ignored looking her way.

You, Bianca, and some of your other friends all have Ms. Thornhill’s class together. What a supprise to you was..Wednesday was here too. You sighed and looked done at your book trying to not notice her. Somehow she noticed you though, it was like she was burning eyeholes into you.

You ignored the feeling as you payed attention in class. When Ms.Thornhill asked a question Bianca immediately raised her hand up, but somehow Wednesday was quicker than her AND answering the question correctly. This shocked the both of you. You looked at each other with the same look and raised your eyebrows. To others it looked like you were just making faces at each other but really you were having your own secret conversation.

You turned your attention back to your work and it was like the whole class period Wednesday and Bianca were at each other’s throats. You sped walked out the class when you noticed Wednesday was looking at you again once the lesson was over.

Bianca and your group caught up to you, they were going to ask why you left so fast but then they saw Wednesday looking at you too and just kept it to themselves. Later on towards the end of the day you saw Bianca and Wednesday in the same fencing class. You could hear what Bianca was saying to her. It was like she was bullying her. No, for a fact she is bullying her.

Being the mature person you are you peaked your head into the class and told her off before leaving. She just rolled her eyes and scoffed. That made you stop in your tracks and turn your ass around. “Umm. Unt unt! Who you scoffing at ma’am? Must not be me.” YIU had a whole attitude now, today was not the day for you to be tested right now. She staying quiet for a few seconds having nothing to say. “Oh okay, don’t test me right now Bianca Denise Barclay.” You hit her with the government name as you left.

I think Bianca’s regretting telling you her middle name now.

—————————————————————

Your school day was over with and you started to walk through the Ophelia hallway and saw Wednesday with a huge cut above her eye. You didn’t look for too long and you decided to text Bianca.

4:30pm

‘Hey B, have you seen Wednesday’s eye? It looks fucked up.’

‘Yeah. I’m the one who did it. She wanted a challenge, so she got it.’

‘Omg B! What’d you do?’

‘She challenged me in fencing class without our masks. Whoever draws blood first wins.’

‘So I won 🤷🏾‍♀️’

‘Makes sense. You might need to tone down your bullying on her B. Principal Weems noticed today.’

‘I’m not worried about her.’

(Seen)

You were about to text her back when you remembered that you had homework. So you quickly got to that. After that you got ready for a party. You and Bianca got invited to this wolf boys house party. Everyone else was going so why not? You got changed,put on your perfume and jewelry and went to go get Bianca. You haven’t gotten your license yet so she’s your ride for tonight.

—————————————————————

You arrive at this big mansion and it looks hella creepy but there were a bunch of people here so you didn’t worry much. You and Bianca walked into the house looking around. You turned your gaze back on Bianca only to find out she’s not there. You let out an annoyed groan and went to get something to drink.

You went into the kitchen and all you saw was liquor, liquor, liquor, & even more liquor. You took this as your sign to try some of the beverages. You look at the name of the drink ‘ahh,Casamigos.’ You poured ONLY A LITTL into a red plastic cup. Typical.

Then you turned around only to find Xavier behind you “You look nice tonight.” “I shouldn’t be talking to you right now.” He raised an eyebrow at you. “Girl code, im not accepting compliments from my best friends ex.” You had a sassy tone when you said that. You couldn’t just hang out with Xavier after your bestie has been crying to you nights on end. Hell no.

A aggravated groan came from you as you looked at him. “Xavier. You have a nice night,kay?” You said as you walked away upstairs ti find something to do. Xavier watched you walk away, he just stared. You feel his eyes on so you turn around and make eye contact before officially leaving.

#wednesday #wednsday addams #wednesday addams x fem!reader #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier x y/n #xavier thrope x reader #bianca barclay #besties #best friend #foryou #wednesday imagine

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sidneypoindexter · 1 year

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Smurfs WIPs I'll never post

#3- An attempted Movie 1 rewrite

In a lush green forest, in a place that would later be known as Belgium, there was a clearing, hidden away from the rest of the world. In that clearing, there were many little houses that seemed to be made of mushrooms. And in those mushrooms, lived the Smurfs. Each and every Smurf played a special part in daily life, even if their part wasn't immediately evident.

Clumsy Smurf was one of these Smurfs who did not seem useful at first glance. Especially with his name, which he had gained due to how, well, how clumsy he was. He was quite tall and skinny for a Smurf, but with the same large feet as the rest of them, leading him to often trip over himself. Even before he had hit a growth spurt, he had still been awkward and clumsy, and some believed there was simply something wrong with his balance. Clumsy was clumsy not only in his actions but in his words, often saying the wrong thing and causing problems. But despite all the hardships he faced, this young Smurf kept an optimistic view of the world. His best friend would blame this on his low intelligence, but Clumsy simply saw the best in everyone and every situation.

What exactly is a Smurf? I suppose that deserves some explanation. Smurfs have always been afraid of humans, hiding away whenever they come near. Smurfs are a little people, averaging three apples tall- or that's what they say, anyways. They have blue skin, are inclined to go shirtless, and wear Phrygian caps which they rarely remove. Smurfs speak in a strange dialect that is hard to understand. They reach adulthood at 150 years old, but remain childlike long beyond that, both in their proportions and in their desire to celebrate any occasion they can.

One of these celebrations was happening soon, the Festival of the Full Moon, and it was the preparations for that that Clumsy Smurf was heading toward. Despite its name, this festival only happened on the rare occasions that the moon was predicted to be blue, which did not happen often without new Smurfs being born. (It would be another few hundred years until more Smurfs were born, which made this quite a rare occasion indeed.)

On his rush to these preparations, Clumsy was almost a force of nature as he stumbled over everything in his way. One of the Smurfs he crashed into was Handy Smurf. Handy was up on a ladder, fixing a roof, when Clumsy ran by and knocked the ladder to the ground. Handy yelled out in surprise, and Clumsy winced.

"Gosh, I'm sorry, Handy!" he said, although it sounded more like "Ah'm sorry," due to his strange voice. A voice with an accent that people nowadays would easily recognize as a southern American accent, but this was medieval Europe, and America didn't exist yet.

"No problem, Clumsy!" Handy called back, "you keep me employed!"

As Clumsy turned back to wave goodbye to Handy, he tripped up onto a barrel lying in his path. The barrel went rolling and so did Clumsy, Smurfs diving out of the way to avoid him. Baker Smurf, however, who was carrying enough pies to block his line of sight, did not see or hear Clumsy in time. The rolling Smurf bumped into him, sending the pies flying. As Clumsy fell off the barrel, he stepped in one of the pies that had fallen.

"Hey, Baker, nice pies, sorry!" Clumsy said, shaking his foot to try and get the pie off of it.

"No worries, Clumsy," Baker said with a sigh that indicated there were indeed many worries.

The next thing Clumsy tripped over was a banner two Smurfs were carrying through the village, which he bounced off of, landing in a wheelbarrow that went rolling. He then crashed into Chef Smurf, who was carrying some flatbread through the village. Chef fell into the wheelbarrow as well.

"Hey, Chef Smurf!" Clumsy greeted.

"Clumsy, what are you doing-a?!" Chef Smurf yelled, trying to climb out without ruining the flatbread he was carrying. He finally managed to climb out- just as they passed Sculptor Smurf, working on an ice sculpture. Chef crashed right into the sculpture, sending ice everywhere.

"Whoa," he said, looking at the ice that had landed on the flatbread. "Freezing food-a! Now that's an idea!"

Clumsy continued on his disastrous ride through the village. "Smurf out of th' way!" He yelled. His wheelbarrow rammed into a table, sending Clumsy flying and crashing right into the door of a house, where he finally came to a halt. He looked up, rubbing his head where he'd crashed into the doorway.

"Wow, Clumsy," Jokey said, opening his door and stepping outside, "that was sure funny!"

Clumsy laughed weakly. "Yeah, it is."

"Here, I got you a surprise!" Jokey said, holding out a yellow gift box to Clumsy. It was tied with a red ribbon.

"Thanks, Jokey, but I'll have t'open it later!" Clumsy said, scrambling to his feet and continuing on his run. "I'm really busy right now!" Unbeknownst to him, he'd somehow loosened the ribbon as he ran on, making the present blow up in Jokey's face. Jokey cackled.

"Still funny!"

The stage in the village, usually used for Smurf Village Theater Productions or for the Music Festival, had been roped off in order for Smurfs to practice the Dance of a Hundred Smurfs they would do to celebrate the blue moon. Two Smurfs stood where the ropes ended, acting almost as bouncers. The left, Hefty Smurf, had a red heart tattoo on both of his upper arms. The right, Gutsy Smurf, had a blue pom-pom on his hat. Both were built sturdily, a sharp contrast to the tall and lanky Clumsy Smurf.

"Hey, Hefty! Hey, Gutsy!" Clumsy said, running up to them. Hefty grabbed him to halt him before he could run over to the stage.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow your roll."

"Gee, but ain't that the rehearsal fer the Full Moon Festival?" Clumsy asked.

"Sorry, Clumsy, but you're not on the list." Hefty said, shrugging.

"Whaddya mean, not on th' list?" Clumsy asked. "Th' Dance of a Hunnered Smurfs needs all the Smurfs it can get, right? And look." He pointed to the clipboard Gutsy was holding. "It says my name right there!"

"Richt," Gutsy said. "Under 'do nae let in Clumsy!'"

Like Clumsy, Gutsy also had a strange accent. His was Scottish, and thick enough that it was hard for many smurfs to understand him. Unlike Clumsy, the place Gutsy's accent came from did actually exist. Despite never having been to Scotland, Gutsy considered himself a proud Scotssmurf. He had gained his name from his courageous behavior, behavior that bordered on reckless at times. But when he was not leaping into danger or serving as the muscle alongside Hefty, Gutsy could be found reading books about far-off lands. One day, he hoped to finally visit Scotland.

"Uh, clearly you two lack the verbal skills required to explain this predicament succinctly."

"Oh, here we go again," Hefty said, rolling his eyes as Brainy Smurf grabbed the clipboard from Gutsy and pushed the scotssmurf out of the way.

"You see, Clumsy, the other smurfs don't want to dance with you, because they don't want to get injured." Brainy said. This was not the way most Smurfs would have put it, but Brainy was not most Smurfs. The bespectacled Smurf had always been a little odd. Other Smurfs would gossip among themselves that something was wrong with Brainy's brain, for while xe was quite intelligent when it came to subjects such as math and grammar, xe lacked any sort of social skills or the ability to understand what others were feeling. This often lead to xem being rude and annoying. But while Hefty and Gutsy rolled their eyes and prepared to force Brainy to shut up, Clumsy listened intently. Brainy and Clumsy were best friends, after all, and Clumsy trusted his best friend's advice more than he should have.

"Gosh, I don't injure people that much!" Clumsy said, gesturing widely with his arms and smacking both Hefty and Gutsy in their faces.

"Ow!" "Ouch!"

"Uh... whoops." Clumsy stepped out of the way as Brainy smirked, seeming almost happy to see those two hurt.

"That's gonna leave a bruise," Brainy chuckled, pushing xyr glasses higher up on xyr crooked nose as xe walked away. But it was a mistake to turn away from Gutsy and Hefty, as the two strong Smurfs shared a glance and then ran forward to kick xem. Hefty's strength behind the kick sent Brainy flying.

Things in Smurf Village are not as happy and peaceful as one might expect from a society of little singing elf-like folk. Instead of working with Clumsy to find something else he can do, they ban him from the ceremony altogether. Physical violence is used on Brainy for even the most minor of infractions. But the greatest threat to the Smurfs comes not from within their own village, but from outside it. And this threat has a name that all Smurfs but one fear-

Gargamel, the evil wizard.

#this was back in my neopronoun brainy days #txt #my art #my writing #smurfs wips #clumsy smurf #handy smurf #baker smurf #chef smurf #sculptor smurf #jokey smurf #hefty smurf #gutsy smurf #brainy smurf #smurfs #the smurfs

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miserable-flamango · 2 years

Text

It's been a while since I've posted some of my written work here, so here's a snippet of something I wrote a couple months ago. This is mainly just me self-projecting my ADHD ass onto my favorite boy idk what to tell ya

Also Plasma cause <3

Kai stood in front of the door to Jay’s workshop, nervously twiddling his thumbs. Zane had asked him to go fetch the blue ninja, and Kai stupidly agreed. A lesson he learned early on was that Kai and fragile objects don’t mix well; he would always be scolded by his father for being so wild and rambunctious in the shop, and has had a history of accidentally destroying valuables items which always ended in angry shouts and hot tears. He’s always been too brash, too feisty, too loud, too much, and he needed to calm down. He felt his heart pound as he took a deep breath and knocked on the door, followed by a muffled “Come in.”

As soon as he entered, a wave of heat was the first thing to greet him. With all of the running tech along with Jay’s own body heat, it can make the small room toasty within a matter of minutes, and Jay likes to have privacy while he works so he never opens the door. They need to install a window or something. Tools, wires, bits, and bobs filled every square inch of the small room, busting out of boxes and laying on top of crudely stacked piles, to the point where it wasn’t organized chaos anymore, it was just chaos. Jay sat at his desk, turned in his chair to face the door, his face brightened when he saw his boyfriend, “Hey Kai, you gonna keep standing in the door or what?”

“Right, sorry.” Kai muttered as he stepped foot into the room, blinking a few times to get used to the much dimmer lighting. How does Jay even see anything in this place? “Uh,” he spoke up, scratching the back of his neck, “Zane said to remind you about the oven.”

Jay’s eyes widened as he whipped around in his chair to look at a clock on the wall, “Shit, I totally forgot about that! Thanks for reminding me! I’m just finishing up the temperature gauge right now, come see.” he beckoned. Kai tensely ventured further into the room, keeping his arms pinned to his sides to avoid bumping into anything as he approached the desk. There underneath the yellow light of the desk lamp sat a small motherboard with thin wires sticking out and some small gray boxes and cylinders stuck on, which he assumed one was probably a battery.

“The sensor was busted, which meant that the oven’s voltage was continuing to rise because there was no cap off. So I took off this thing right here-” Jay pointed to different parts on the board as he explained, but it just went in one ear and out the other for Kai. Don’t get him wrong, he loves listening to whatever project Jay’s working on, but he could never seem to wrap his head around anything electronic or coding related. When he finished, Kai flashed him a smile, “Looks good, babe!”

Jay smiled at the praise, “Thank you, just need to attach a few more things and I’ll be done.” He looked around at his workspace for something before looking back up at Kai. He batted his eyelashes at him, “Oh wait, it seems my soldering iron is on another table. Mind if you help me out?” he asked sweetly. Kai stiffened, any other time he would jokingly chide him for “using his powers irresponsibly” while being more than willing to help, even taking the opportunity to steal quick kisses from the lightning master. Now, he couldn’t get over the chance that he might accidentally ruin the gauge or something worse, and that wasn’t something he wanted to risk. He reached over and grabbed the iron, “I’m kinda busy right now, sorry.” he lied, handing off the tool and turning to leave quickly to avoid looking at Jay’s face.

“Oh, okay. Uh… bye-” Jay’s goodbye was cut off by the closing door.

#Mango Writes #ninjago #kai smith #kai jiang #jay walker #plasma shipping #certified adhd moment #for me at least #ive never really written something like this before so I hope its decent

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p-artsypants · 1 year

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Edge of the Sky (4)

In Which Marinette Delves

Ao3

What was once a beautiful place of worship, or perhaps part of the palace, was now falling to pieces from neglect. The Tomb of Potema, what a hideously dusty place.

Out of the corner of her eye, Marinette saw a figure, and she turned rapidly.

A dried out, mummified corpse stood up in an alcove in the wall. It startled her at first, since it was a corpse, but she relaxed ever so slightly when she remembered such a thing was dead and not about to move.

“Right…a necromancer’s tomb. So, lots of undead servants.” She crept closer, waving her hand in front of it. “Or maybe just dead.”

Just to be on the safe side, she took his sword. Or at least, intended to. As she grabbed it, the corpse’s atrophied fingers still held on tight.

“Don’t make me do this, weird zombie man.” She pried his fingers off and took the ancient nordic sword. “Sorry, but I don’t know what’s ahead. I need to be prepared.”

The corpse, being a corpse, didn’t move, and so she turned to continue.

Except, the corpse was not just a corpse. It was what the Nords called a draugr, a grave dweller.

A walking dead.

Marinette’s steps were halted with the bone chilling sound of a groan. She turned back to the corpse, to see its eye sockets open and glowing with an eerie blue flame. Marinette stumbled backwards, nearly dropping the sword. The draugr let out a roar, making Marinette scream in terror. It jerked from its place on the wall and started to come for her.

“Swing the sword swing the sword swing the sword!” She yelled as she flailed the sword around wildly. Luckily with the speed of the draugr and the length of the sword, wild flailing was enough to make contact and decapitate the almost skeletonized remains.

Once the body collapsed and showed no sign of movement, Marinette dropped the sword to the floor and started crying. “I didn’t need this today! I’m burying my dead! I don’t want to fight more!” She crouched on the ground, covering her face. “I don’t want this…”

Nothing happened. No guards rushed to her rescue. No more draugr rushed to kill her. Just the damned silence of the crypt.

“Okay…” Marinette wiped the tears from her face. “I have to get out of this myself. So I’ll get out of this myself.” She grabbed the sword, and a dusty, old, empty potato sack in case she found anything useful and moved on.

On she traveled, down crumbling hallways and stairways that were caved in on the upper levels. She kept her steps light, and when she spotted another draugr at his post, she decapitated it before it could wake up.

The further in she went, the less like a palace this place felt, and more like a series of torture chambers. Cages hung from the ceilings with skeletons inside.

“To know that this was under Solitude…”

Before long, the architecture of Solitude melted into a cave, and then something she hadn’t seen before. Flared arches leading into a round tunnel. At the end, a single lever and a caved-in doorway.

Not getting too discouraged about the cave in, Marinette pulled the lever to see what would happen. In response, the rock in front of the door rolled away, revealing a door with an opening portcullis. Soon the portcullis closed and the door rolled out of the way, back into stone.

Marinette sighed, but approached the doorway. She’d have to time it right, but she could make it. The portcullis came into view and she ran at the door, ducking under the yawning gate, and coming into the other side in one piece.

Inside this new room was a large brazier burning oil from an ancient reservoir. Who knew how long it had been burning?

Beneath the brazier laid several offerings, like dried snowberries, salts, and two healing potions. Marinette hadn’t suffered any wounds yet from her ordeal, but now she had potions in case it took a turn for the worse. She put the potions in her bag, and then opened the double wooden doors in the back of the hall.

More ancient ruins. She wondered if this is what the ancient Nordic burial mound Hiccup explored looked like. She’d have to write to him when she got back.

The path wound for a while, the floor littered with old urns she had to be careful not to accidentally kick.

Soon, she came to another dead end that looked very similar to the last, though this one had three levers instead of just one. She pulled the first and the doorway shifted, eventually showing a portcullis that opened, then closed and moved away. The space beyond wasn’t another room, however, but another rock.

“Three this time, huh?” She pulled the other two levers, making all three doors rotate. More timing, but not too hard.

She waited for the first door to come back around, then ducked into the tiny space between the first and second doors.

She should have thought this out better, for as soon as the first door rolled away, she was trapped in a tight, pitch black space. The rolling rocks were deafening as they scraped across the other stone. If they stopped while she was in here…

Marinette reached her hand out and felt the rock moving along to the left. Then cool metal touched her hand. She waited to feel the metal move up, and moved to the last space between the second and third door.

When the third door rolled into place, she could see again, the lowly illuminated cavern visible beyond the gate.

The gate opened, and she rushed into the room, grateful to be out of the close quarters.

But perhaps she shouldn’t have been so hasty. As she took a moment to catch her breath, a fireball blasted her in the side from out of nowhere. Pained, and smoking, Marinette darted behind a nearby column for cover. She quickly patted out the burning embers on her dress. Thankfully, the burn wasn’t too bad. A little singed hair and a stinging on her arm, but she was okay.

The tailor wouldn’t be happy to see her dress, however.

Marinette peeked around the column in the direction the fire ball had come from. A little pink stone floated above a pillar.

“Huh. I wonder what—“ just as she spoke, the gem created another fireball and threw it at her.

She retook her cover behind the pillar and heard the fireball explode on the other side of the column.

Okay, so now what was she supposed to do? Where could she go?

Another peek revealed a doorway just beyond the fire breathing gem.

“Talos preserve me,” she lamented.

She peeked around the opposite side of the column, only to see a second fire breathing gem. This one also threw a fireball at her when she looked at it too long.

She looked around the rest of the room, but dismayed at not finding any other door.

“Great.” She rested against the column, leaning on her back as she considered her options. Dare she run for it and maybe get burned more?

Across from her, she spotted a skeleton. Not an undead creature, but a blackened with fire, unmoving skeleton. A shield laid in front of it, just out of its reach. Well, that warrior’s doom would be Marinette’s salvation, as she took up the shield just as another fireball was shot. The heat radiated off of it, but Marinette was unharmed.

She made a break for the door, taking two fireballs head on. But she did make it, another step through the necromancer’s plight.

She prepared for another trap to spring as soon as she set foot in this room, but thankfully, she had a moment of respite. The floor was dirt, and soft under her feet, a change from the harsh stone she had traveled the whole time. It was a small circular room, with only the door she had come through, and a pair of wooden doors cracked open slightly to see into the next room.

The next leg of her journey would include a throne room. It had a much higher ceiling. Two stone thrones sat against the wall, and a huge iron gate laid over a large pit in the floor.

The worst part though, was the corpse sitting at one of the thrones. He wore black armor, and a helmet with long horns protruding off the front. This didn’t seem like the other draugr, who had been hard and scary enough as is. This one looked powerful and deadly.

Marinette glanced around the throne room, seeing what would come after.

Another pair of double doors on the right side of the room looked to be her exit. If she could just get there.

Marinette almost held her breath as she stepped into the room. No movement from the draugr yet. She kept her back to the wall and slowly inched her way closer to the door.

Locked.

By the Nine, it was locked!

The door made a loud clunk when she pulled on it, echoing in the huge room.

“Hi volaan…hi oblaan!” A withered, ancient, garbled voice spoke from behind her.

Marinette turned to face her attacker, sword and shield in hand, and watched as it snapped into place and stood. Its hulking form rattled as it walked, the horrible creaking of dry bones rubbing together. Then he turned and faced her. His jaw dropped open.

“Fus Ro Da!” The very air around his voice shifted, like the heat off scalding steel.

Marinette was thrown off her feet, and slammed into the wooden door behind her. She was thankful her grip on her weapons were strong or they would have been lost.

Was this how her grandfather was killed? Was this the ancient shout of the dragons?

The draugr started stalking toward her, his speed greatly diminished by decay. That may be her only saving grace!

She staggered to her feet and hurried from the room. The hideous chattering behind her clued her in that the draugr was on her tail.

She ran back into the fireball room, and ducked close under the gem so that it couldn’t activate. As the draugr shambled into the room, the gem activated and threw fire at the creature.

Her joy was short lived as the draugr seemed less than bothered by the flames and continued advancing toward her. Speed was still on Marinette’s side, so she continued to back away from him while she held her shield up for fireballs.

The room grew intensely hot as the twin gems alternated targets and blasted fireballs over and over in waves. The shield burned against Marinette’s arm, but she just grit her teeth and bared it.

Finally, the flames licked the bones dry, and the charred remains collapsed in a heap. Marinette dodged the last fireball and ran back into the throne room, dislodging the smoldering shield from her arm. It clattered to the floor just as she collapsed into one of the stone thrones. It was the first time she was able to sit down and take a moment to breathe.

As she placed her arm down on the armrest, her hand landed on a key. The key to the double door just to the side, no doubt. She’d get to it in a minute.

Now that she could rest, the adrenaline wore off and her head started to throb where she had hit the door. At least it hadn’t killed her!

She glanced at the potions in her bag. They were in muted red bottles, unlabeled. As far as she had known, that color was usually reserved for healing, or other beneficial properties like antidotes to poison or curing disease. She had two of them, one larger than the other. She uncorked the smaller one and took a sip. It tasted sour, like the medicine her mother gave her when she was sick as a kid. It just made her headache wane, so she finished it in two more gulps. Water was what she really wanted, especially since she had been crying all morning. But that would have to wait until she returned.

Marinette took the key and opened the next room, praying the tomb would just end already.

But alas, a long, winding tunnel awaited her. Her shield was still hot to the touch, so she opted to leave it behind. She walked with purpose, intent on making it to the end. But when she opened the next door, she froze. She felt sick as every fiber of her being yelled run run run! But she was still in shock.

This room, this single, circular chamber, was filled with bodies. Not just a couple, but dozens. Maybe a hundred! Who could tell? The floor wasn’t visible, but seemed to be recessed a step or two. Mummified corpses and skeletons alike were thrown into a pile.

“Gods above…”

To get to the gate on the other side of the room, she’d have to walk over the corpses. Holding her breath, she began.

Crunch.

Crack.

Snap.

Squish.

Groan.

The sound stirred the dread in her soul. She gave a full body shudder as the pile beneath her shifted. Once spurred into movement, she moved quickly, scrambling to get to the gate. A lever jutted out of the wall next to the gate, and Marinette threw it into action.

The grated metal began to rise at an agonizingly slow rate as the moans and groans of the undead grew louder behind her. A torrent of profanity spilled from her lips as she glanced back.

The undead were slowed by the other unmoving bodies laying on top of them. It looked like not all were undead. But they clawed and squirmed as they attempted to get free.

They were reaching for her.

Once Marinette reached the gate, she rolled underneath the small crack underneath, and then slammed the adjacent lever on the other side down. The metal door halted, and then began to close, crushing the torso of a draugr that had gotten close. The draugr continued to reach out for her, stretching their arms through the holes in the door.

“Now I definitely can’t go back,” she lamented.

There was a slow descent to the next door. The walls were solid rock with niches carved into them. Laying in the niches were skeletons covered in dust and cobwebs. Marinette didn’t lower her sword for a moment though.

There was no movement from this dead, and Marinette counted her blessings.

The door at the end of this hall was black and heavy, but she pushed it open with some effort. It thankfully made little noise to disturb whatever was inside.

The grand hall awaited her. An oval chamber, with three levels connected by stairs. Several stone chairs sat at different levels, each occupied by an armored corpse.

Marinette swore under her breath and started to cry, though she attempted to hold her breath to not awaken them.

There was another heavy black door on the opposite side of the room, and if she could make it there, she might just be okay…or walk into an even bigger room with even more draugr.

Stepping lightly, and barely breathing, she tip-toed right down the middle, the farthest away from all the corpses. Her heart pounded and her lungs burned. Her head throbbed from her impact with the door, and her arm stung from the melted shield.

“If there were ever a time to be graceful,” she thought to herself.

If the gods delivered her from this nightmare, she swore to be content with life. She’d be the perfect Princess, and grow up to help her estranged uncle on the throne. Yes, that sounded very nice. Very nice and safe and devoid of these horrible, horrible undead.

She kicked a rock on accident and just about burst into tears. The pebble skittered across the ground, hitting distinctly on the ground.

No movement.

Marinette didn’t revel in this victory though, and proceeded with haste towards that black door. It was so close! So very close!

It was heavy, and scraped across the stone as she opened it, just enough to squeeze inside. That was the trigger to awaken the draugr in the room.

It didn’t matter. She was gone. She squeezed inside and pulled the door shut, hearing it click into place.

She waited a moment, hand on her sword, and waited for them to try to come through the door. But there was nothing. It seemed they had awoken, but not seen where she went.

What was next? What else could there be? What could be worse?

What lay before her was a small chamber, with a set of stairs that ascended to a throne. There was yet another door behind the throne.

“How many chambers are there in this tomb?” She wondered aloud.

Growing tired, Marinette ascended to the throne, and prepared to sit in it before moving on.

But resting on the seat, was a skull. A skull that wore a gold circlet with a blue gem.

“This must be Potema…” she reached for the crown, and then halted. “Hiccup found his cursed crown in a Nordic burial mound like this one. I wonder…”

She was careful not to touch the crown itself, and used the skull to place it in her bag.

When she lifted the skull, she was surprised to see two small, circular rubies resting on the stone seat. As she grabbed them, claiming them as her reward for surviving this far, she noticed they were earrings.

“Wow…still in great condition. A little soap and water and I could wear them to dinner!” That, of course, was if she made it home for dinner.

She placed the skull back on the stone seat. Then, as she moved to the next room, she spotted a chest. She opened it out of curiosity, to find some gold, jewels, and a handsome dagger, made of a gold material and what looked like glass.

Maybe the next time she saw Hiccup, she’d ask him if he knew what it was. He mentioned being a blacksmith. He may know.

Invigorated by her rewards, Marinette opened the door.

Snow! There was snow! Snow and sunlight from way up above! She was in some sort of tower with a staircase that went up and up and up.

As long as there weren’t any more dead people, she could handle stairs. She took her time, exhausted as she was, and climbed for several stories.

When her legs ached, her face itched from the salt of her tears, her arms trembled, and the throbbing in her head was deafening, Marinette reached the final door, and opened it.

The sunset over Solitude was breathtaking. The Blue Palace was just a silhouette against the orange and red sky. She could see everything from up here. The town, the palace, the harbor…

Why was she all the way up here? This was up on the mountain!

And gods above was that a long way down!

Marinette paused for a moment, now struck with a new problem. She couldn’t possibly go back, so she had to go forward.

Tucked against the mountain was another chest. This one looked like it was for offerings from civilians not allowed into the tomb. Digging through the loot, she found more gold and jewels (she was definitely buying more sewing supplies as a treat) and two sturdy daggers. It might be risky, but if she could wedge them in cracks in the rocks, she could make sturdier handholds to climb down.

She cut her singed and torn skirt to above knee length, to make it easier to climb. Then she started her descent.

Twenty feet from the bottom, one knife slipped and she fell, bumping her butt on the rock and then landing awkwardly in a snow pile at the bottom. A flawless execution, if she said so herself.

It really wasn’t that long of a walk back to Solitude. Just some winding paths from the mountains down to the main road. The thing she was worried about the most, was how she was going to explain to everyone where she had been, and why she wasn’t mourning in the temple like she was supposed to. Did she tell the truth? Did she point out what she had seen with the ambassador?

Maybe, just for now, she would only tell her parents the truth. She’d lie to the steward and any other council member that asked.

As she approached the city, a guard halted her. “Hail and well met, Elf. What is your business in Solitude?” He looked her up and down in scrutiny. She was filthy, covered in blood and other horrible fluids. Her clothes were torn and burned. The question was justified.

“I am Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Daughter of High King Tom and Queen Sabine.”

The guard looked at her wide eyed. “The Princess should be in the temple, mourning Helgen.”

She sighed. “Yes, I know. I went for a walk to clear my head, got lost, and took a tumble. Could you or someone else just escort me back to the Blue Palace? I’ve had a very bad day.”

The guard looked a lot more sympathetic at that. “Yes, alright. I will go with you.”

She didn’t attempt to make small talk, as she usually did with the guards. She was just too exhausted. He dropped her off at the palace and bid her a good night.

As soon as she walked in, another guard announced her arrival and her parents came rushing to her.

“My little croissant! My gingerbread muffin! Where have you been!? You’re injured!” Her father wept, as he swept her off her feet.

She almost cried in her father’s arms. For a while, she didn’t think she would come out of the ordeal alive! She might not see her parents ever again! And on the day they were mourning the loss of their community!

“I’m sorry, papa…” she cried.

“What happened? Are you okay? We'll take you to Nadja to get looked over.”

“It’s just bumps and scratches,” she affirmed. “I got overwhelmed during the ceremony, and went on a walk to clear my head…then I got lost and fell down.”

Her story didn’t account for her burnt clothing or singed hair, but it seemed like her parents bought it nonetheless. She was escorted to the court magician immediately and checked over for wounds.

With the healer, Marinette was alone with just Nadja and her parents. The door was closed, and she felt safe enough to divulge the truth.

“Oh dear, this head wound is pretty severe. Where did you say you fell?” Nadja began mixing a healing potion from raw ingredients.

“I…didn’t, actually. I just said that in front of the others. In truth…I went into Potema’s tomb.”

Tom and Sabine gave her a curious look, while Nadja looked completely stricken.

“What did you say?” Nadja asked, in a horrified whisper.

“Potema’s tomb…” Marinette then went on to describe the horrible things she had witnessed. From the gate being unlocked from the ambassador, to the undead and the shout that threw her across the room. Finally, she took out the crown and placed it on the table for Nadja to look at. “I’m not sure why I took it. It bothered me that Ambassador Rossi was going into the tomb, and I have a feeling she was looking for this. Also, I couldn’t help but think of Hiccup’s cursed crown that he found in a nordic burial mound.” She hugged herself. “Am I in trouble?”

Tom kissed her forehead. “No, my cupcake. It was obviously an accident you went into this horrible place.”

“We’re just relieved you’re okay!” Sabine smiled warmly. “What an adventure!”

“You did right,” Nadja confirmed. “I will cast a ritual to detect magic on this crown. If it is cursed, I will send it to the Mages’ College in Winterhold to have it destroyed. If not…well, we could have it on display in the castle.”

Marinette sighed in relief, glad that her efforts weren’t in vain.

“But, because we have no proof that Madam Rossi was after this crown, we ought not accuse her of anything. The Thalmor are sensitive about these things and could use any false allegation against us.” Nadja placed the crown on an enchanting table, a black stone table inscribed with the magic of the gods, and boasting the skull of a troll. “Either way, I’m glad she didn’t take it. This is Skyrim’s history.”

Marinette was treated for her wounds, and then set to the baths to clean up. A servant brought a dinner for her while she bathed, and Marinette wept at the sheer luxury of it all.

Finally, it was time to rest. She retreated to her room and sat on the bed. The old potato sack had been tossed on the bed, a few coins sprawled on the comforter. Marinette brought over a metal lockbox and put the coins and gems inside of it. Then she took the earrings to the wash basin and cleaned them up.

For however many centuries they had been left in the tomb, they were still pristine. They were a rich cherry red, and sparkled brilliantly in the light.

She went over to her bureau and put them on in the mirror. Against her white skin, and black hair, they stood out like little rose buds.

Suddenly, Marinette began to feel very woozy and lightheaded. The earrings seemed to vibrate and grow warm. Tingles ran up her spine, before she blacked out.

She was in a black landscape, with only a faint fog rising over the ground. There were no features, no exits, nothing.

“Is this a dream?” She wondered aloud.

“Are you the lady I felt in the tomb?” A very sweet voice spoke to her.

Marinette looked around, but saw nothing at first. “Uh, yes? In Potema’s tomb?”

“It was very brave of you to go in there. It’s an evil place.”

“Because…she was a necromancer?”

“Yes!” A small glowing dot appeared. Pink, and floating closer until it was just within her reach.

“You’re…” Marinette squinted. “A ladybug?”

“That is correct. And who are you, to have entered the Wolf Queen’s tomb? A treasure hunter? A mage seeking power?”

Marinette chuckled humorlessly. “Honestly, I went in there by accident.”

“By Accident? How does one just stumble into the Tomb of Queen Potema, and not know?”

“It’s a long story.”

“Please tell me. I’ve had no one to talk to for so long.”

Marinette cupped the little ladybug in her hands, and then sat on the ground, which was not warm or cold, nor soft or hard. It just was. “Well, I’m not from Solitude. I was born and raised in Helgen. My father is the son of High King Torygg…though we didn’t know. When the High King was assassinated, my father was chosen as heir, and we moved to the Blue Palace.”

“So you are a Princess?”

“Yes, as of two weeks ago.”

“How very interesting. Please continue!”

Marinette couldn’t help but smile at the sweet voice. “Yesterday, we found out that my home of Helgen…was destroyed. Swallowed by a dragon.” She swallowed thickly, as the event still caused her grief.

“Oh my, a dragon? Was it the World-Eater?”

“I–I don’t know. I don’t think anyone knows. It just happened. I didn’t even know dragons existed anymore!”

“A prophecy at the beginning of time foretold this event. The dragons were gone when Potema ruled. Perhaps my awakening was not merely coincidence? Please, continue your tale.”

Marinette had to remember where she left off, then continued, “I was grieving in the temple, with my family, and got overwhelmed. I went to take a break, and found the tomb…and then got locked in. So, I had to go through it. It was scary and difficult, so I figured…I deserved these earrings I found at the end. Are you angry?”

“I am not angry. I sensed goodness in you, so I allowed you into the tomb.”

“So…you were the reason the bars slid open at the beginning!”

“I am!”

“Forgive me, I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng, and you are?”

The ladybug flew up and did a little spin of sparkles. “Nice to meet you, Marinette! I have to apologize, as I don’t remember my real name. Most of me has been destroyed or withered away over time. My last soulmate called me Tikki.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Tikki. What do you mean you were destroyed?”

“The memories are fuzzy from that time, but a very long time ago, I convinced my brothers and sisters to help me create a place for life to begin. Many sacrificed their power and very beings to do so. As punishment, I was torn to pieces and my heart was ripped out. What remained of me, the Psijic Monks tied to this Miraculous. I have only been able to witness the passage of time through the eyes of my soulmates. Tell me, how long has Potema been dead?”

Marinette blinked at the absolute tidal wave of information that crashed into her. “P-Potema? I don’t…I’m not sure. I’m not solid on Skyrim lore, I’m sorry.”

“That’s alright. What about Hortator Indoril Nerevar of House Redoran?”

“I…have no idea. I’ve never heard that name…”

“It seems much time has passed since then. It is alright.”

“You keep saying the word ‘soulmates’...” Marinette asked carefully.

“Yes. The one that wears my miraculous, my earrings, is tethered to my soul until death.”

“You don’t mean me, do you?”

Tikki laughed. “Of course! You’re wearing my earrings now, aren’t you?”

That lightheaded feeling started to overtake Marinette again. “Oh gods…oh…T-Tikki, was Potema’s crown magical?”

“No, I don’t believe so. It may have had an enchantment on it, as most armor did, but nothing significant.”

Marinette felt sick. She was so certain that the crown was cursed, just like Hiccup’s, and was so careful not to put it on. Then, she had to go and put on the real cursed item. “Ugh! I’m so stupid!”

“Why would you say such a thing?”

“My friend was just telling me this very thing! He went into a Nordic burial mound and put in a cursed crown that he can’t take off!”

“Someone else has a Miraculous?”

“He didn’t call it that. He just said it was cursed.”

“What did it look like?”

“Uh…well, it was more of a circlet. It kind of looked like Potema’s. Made of gold, but had a black gem instead of blue.”

“Ah, that sounds like the Miraculous of the Dragon. Your friend is very lucky to have his soul bound to a wise and powerful deity.”

Marinette blinked, hard. “I’m sorry, did you say god? The dragon god? Does that mean—are you a god?!”

“I was. The god of creation, they called me. But much of my power is gone, and I was never part of the nine divines.”

“Eight,” Marinette corrected.

“Eight?”

“Sorry, you’re right. There’s nine Divines. The Thalmor are trying to erase Talos and really hammering in the phrase ‘Eight divines’. Saying there’s nine can get you jailed…or worse.”

“Talos? Oh! Tiber Septim. You know, Potema was his great great granddaughter. I was rendered before he ascended, so I never met him.”

“We’re getting off track. So, you’re a god, and I…what? Am I connected to you for life?”

“That is correct, Marinette.”

“What does this mean, exactly? Do I have some grand destiny or something?”

“Not particularly. I always want my soulmates to do good in the world, since they can draw from my power.”

“And what’s your power?”

“I can do many things. Most have used me to bolster their own power. What would you like to be in life?”

“Well…before I became a Princess, I wanted to be a tailor.”

“A humble request. I can make you the greatest tailor that ever lived! My magic will be woven into your textiles. Everything you make will bestow wearers with health, luck, strength…whatever you can think of!”

“While that sounds really wonderful…I’d like to be a regular tailor. Just a normal girl with a normal life.”

“Are you sure? Many have killed for these earrings.”

“And that’s what I’m afraid of! I’m only 13, I can’t fight off people that try to take these earrings from me! If anyone finds out I have them…” Marinette immediately thought of Lila Rossi, who no doubt was looking for them.

“You’re only a babe…” Tikki spoke with such sorrow and tenderness.

“What am I going to do?”

“The time for having a normal life ended two weeks ago, when you became a Princess. Now comes the time to decide. Will you use my gifts? Or will you ignore me?”

“I don’t want to ignore you, Tikki. I could certainly use your wisdom…I would really like to talk to my friend about this. If what you say is true and he does have a connection to the Dragon, we are in the same boat.”

“You should know, this friend of yours…what is his name?”

“Hiccup.”

“This friend, Hiccup, if he is truly the soulmate to the Dragon god, he is likely also Dragonborn. The Dragonborn of Prophecy, if the dragon that ate your town is the one I expect it is.”

“What’s a Dragonborn?”

Tikki was silent for a moment, presumably in shock. “My, it has been a long time. The Dragonborn is born with the ability to shout like a dragon.”

“Shout? Like…send someone flying across the room with just his voice?”

“Yes, that’s one of them.”

Marinette considered that with dread in her soul. Drago Bludvist was the one that knew how to kill people with his voice. The evil draugr in the armor knew how to do it too. For Hiccup to know how as well? It felt wrong.

“What is wrong?” Tikki asked.

“My grandfather, the High King, who I never actually met, was killed by a man who knew how to shout. Drago Bludvist, the Jarl of Windhelm. I don’t…” She sighed. “I don’t want Hiccup to be like him.”

“It is rather confusing. Any man can learn how to shout, but only the Dragonborn can master their language. This Drago Bludvist may just be a pretender.”

“That doesn’t make him any less dangerous though…”

“Of course not. If this man killed your grandfather for being the High King, he will likely come for his successor.”

“My father…” Marinette breathed.

“The fight between two dragons is often called a debate, since they are fighting with their voices. If this ‘Drago’ man intends to fight using shouts, the best person to face him is the Dragonborn. If you fear for your father’s safety, you should seek out Hiccup and confirm this with him.”

“But then what will I do? Hiccup isn’t that much older than me, and he’s no warrior. Surely he can’t face Drago alone!”

“And he will not. While you do not have the gift of the Thu’um, you have something no one else has.”

Marinette frowned. Her kin of elves were said to be hardy to the cold and sensitive to the arcane. Hardly special from other elves and men. “I don’t think so?”

“You have me. Anyone with the right proclivities can learn the basics of magic, but I will help you master it in a way no one has since Potema. You will need it, if the Prophecy has come true. I will need some time to observe the world to see if this is truly the case.”

Marinette wanted to protest, wanted to refuse this life. She didn’t want this fate, to have the safety of the country, of the world even, on her shoulders.

But there was no denying she longed for her family’s safety, for things to return to how they once were. Perhaps stepping up today would lead to a peaceful tomorrow.

“Okay, Tikki. You’re right. I love my papa, and if standing up against Drago means protecting him, then I’ll do it.”

“I’m happy to hear that, Marinette. And as a gift, I will bestow upon you the knowledge of fire. Use it wisely, and I will show you the next spell.”

–

Marinette jolted awake, her head throbbing. Whether it was from her weirdly realistic dream, or her throw across the room yesterday, she didn’t know.

Or perhaps it was because she slept on the floor.

She pulled her sore body up and proceeded to get dressed for the day. As she brushed her hair in the mirror, she noticed the ruby earrings in her ears still. Slightly unnerved, she attempted to take them off.

They wouldn’t move. She could move them within her ear, and she could even take the backs off, but when she went to pull them out, it was like they were stuck to the lobe.

“Unbelievable.” She shook her head.

So it wasn’t a dream. Tikki, whatever she was, was real and possessed her earrings. And if that was true, then what Tikki said about fire…

The very thought warmed her from the inside. Marinette knew how to cast a small fire spell. She couldn’t explain how or even teach it to someone else, but she felt the truth inside of her.

She went to the balcony and opened the door. A dead plant stood on the balcony, and had been there since she moved in. She hadn’t had the time or energy to do anything about it. But now, it seemed like a perfectly good target.

She raised her fist, and let instinct take over. Immediately, her hand was coated in flames! It didn’t hurt, but it did cause her to shriek in surprise. She threw the fireball at the plant, igniting it. Her fist only held a whiff of steam after.

Then she was back in her room, searching out a quill and parchment. She had to write Hiccup immediately!

#fanfiction #The Elder Scrolls #skyrim #ML #miraculous ladybug #miraculeakless #httyd #how to train your dragon #hiccup #marinette dupain cheng #tikki #fantasy AU #edge of the sky

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