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#back with another set no one asked for or needs.
hannieehaee · 2 days
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Hiii i love your writing sm that is always look forward to anything you write . Pls remember to take care of yourself .
Imagine chan having a younger s/o , doting on her , taking care of her protecting her 😭😭😭😭 it would be so cute
them having a younger s/o
content: small age gap between reader and member, established relationship, etc.
wc: 1056
a/n: thank u hehe u take care too!! <3 also i wrote this assuming the age gap is nothing too crazy!! just something like 3-5 year difference for hyung line and 2-3 year difference for maknae line c:
masterlist
seungcheol -
he was MADE to dote on and care for a younger s/o. his credit card would literally be your own. his home would be yours. would treat you akin to kkuma in the sense that he'd coo at you incessantly any time he was away from you for more than a few hours and would love dressing you up in cute outfits to match his own (in a low-key, fashionable way, of course). he'd adore a younger s/o because he'd feel like he could really provide for you with both his wealth and wisdom.
jeonghan -
being the one of the elders of the group and having a younger sister, he's literally been trained for a younger s/o. im completely convinced he'd adoooore a younger s/o that he could dote on and baby in every possible instance. he'd use his preschool teacher voice on you all the time and coo at you so much that you'd literally have to beg him to stop. at some point he'd start doing it just to annoy you lmao.
joshua -
tbh i feel like he would be kinda indifferent about you being younger than him, but would still acknowledge it at times. would coo at you and baby you in exaggerated manners to tease you over being younger than him. but! this would just be a veiled way for him to take care of you.
jun -
how is he supposed to baby you when he's the embodiment of baby himself? however, the creator of the aegyo cat set would still manage to coo at you and attack you with constant aegyo to show his affections towards you. all in all, though, i think he would be a lil indifferent about you being younger than him. maybe it'd inspire a little extra protectiveness from him, making him always keep you close to him in public spaces and use his massive shoulders to shield you from crowds or any danger.
soonyoung -
he'd baby you at times but for the most part would be pretty indifferent about being older than you. however! he would let his childish/immature side come out more often while around you, reasoning that you brought out his more youthful side. would probably match your energy at all times. he'd 100% use the 'im older than you' card to try and win arguments/disputes (it wouldnt work).
wonwoo -
absolutely endeared by you!!! have you seen the way he looks at chan? if you were around chan's age, he'd give you the chan treatment but a thousand times over. would cackle at any joke you made, always keep his adoring gaze on you, bring you snacks even when you didnt ask for them, make space for you on his lap whenever he played games or watched movies. you'd be his baby.
jihoon -
he'd try to hold back for a while, but he'd eventually break and feel an instinctive need to take care of you in a way he would a younger member. even if you were a very independent and self-reliant person, he would still take care of you in his own low-key way. would make sure you always had all your meals, make space for you in his studio and provide you entertainment so you could accompany him in there in the long hours of the night. he'd feel a special type of love for you knowing he could dote on you so freely.
seokmin -
he'd be obsessed with you!!!! would baby you constantly and take care of you in every way imaginable. youd also kinda activate his cuteness aggression without him realizing. he'd wanna be the one and only man to protect you and become a rock for you to rely on. would feel happy and proud to be a person you trusted and someone you could look to whenever you needed.
mingyu -
yet another member who would go insane over being older than you and use it as an excuse to baby you at any given opportunity. would treat you like loyalty and would act as if it was a crime if you ever did mundane stuff on your own instead of allowing him to do it for you. walking to the other side of the room? why when he can just piggy back you there!! packing your own lunch in the morning? nope! he's cooking you a whole meal!
minghao -
ive always felt like he'd go for someone younger just for the traditional aspect of it (idk i have no basis for this belief lmao just a hunch). he'd enjoy playing the role of the dependable boyfriend with a younger s/o to provide for and dote on. it'd just bring him a special type of satisfaction to know that you could look to him as a reliable source of comfort. would be the ideal boyfriend and take care of all your expenses and all your emotional needs.
seungkwan -
he'd be so damn overbearing in the way he took care of you im ngl. would keep tabs on your meals to make sure you had all your meals every day, would push vitamins on you, and just have huge concern for your health overall. he'd also feel insane cuteness aggression for you at the most random times, becoming overly affectionate and expressing how cute he thought you were (even if your age gap was teeny tiny).
vernon -
gives me the vibe that he wouldnt really care if you were older or younger. however, seeing the way he dotes on his little sister and gets along with her, i think he'd be similar with a younger s/o. wouldnt really bring up your age difference much but would still use it as the butt of jokes or use it as an excuse to take care of you at times in which he just felt a little extra affectionate towards you.
chan -
as the youngest, he'd love the idea of him being able to baby someone for once (ik he has a younger brother ok). would use the 'im older than you' line to death and be so fucking annoying about it. however, he would also feel satisfied knowing he was a dependable figure in your life who could take care of you in the same ways his members always took care of him.
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foreingersgod · 3 days
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omg I saw you wrote for pb and I was wondering your take on her comforting a reader who struggles with mental health or anxiety? Tysmia && I love your work !! ❤️🤗
for any of you struggling out there, i’m here with you! if you ever need, my inbox is always open :)
Anxious . PB
pairing: paige bueckers x reader
synopsis: you’ve struggled with anxiety your entire life, but you never told anyone, including paige. during one of your bad anxiety attacks, she finally finds out.
༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶
since you were young, about starting middle school, anxiety controlled the entirety of your life. every decision, every breathe, every moment, anxiety was driving you. it was so suffocating that you fell behind the other kids. you didn’t play sports or join clubs, nor did you hang out with friends because you feared the worst. those voices in your head, that twisted feeling in your gut made life almost unlivable.
when you graduated high school and moved away for college, the anxiety lessened. you think in some ways college helped you find yourself and for a little bit, you were living freely.
in that time, you met your girlfriend paige. you had met her through one of your mutual friends at her birthday party. paige had spotted you from across the room, completely captivated by you. you were beautiful, had the most adorable laugh, and had the most unique style she had seen. she couldn’t help but ask for your number.
the rest was history. you and paige hit it off immediately and became inseparable. when you were with paige, you felt amazing. anxiety was the last thing on your mind. talking to people became easier, leaving your house was no longer scary, life was good. your days of anxiety and panic attacks were well behind you.
but about a year into your relationship, things started to fall apart again. that particular year, you were facing a lot of hardships and it was hard to manage it all. your mother was rushed to the hospital for a minor respiratory problem, she was recovering well, but the financial burden fell to you. school was beginning to pile up as well, it felt like you were drowning in school work. things at your job had been getting worse too, you were understaffed (and underpaid) and practically running the whole place. and on top of that, it was paige’s last year at uconn and she was so stressed about the upcoming season, and you were finding it hard to balance being her support system and the rest of your life.
it was hard.
when things started to go down hill, you felt that familiar feeling creep its way back into your mind. you found that your heart was pounding more and more when you left your cozy apartment, that your thoughts weren’t your own, and that you were always worried about the future. you couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t function properly at all. but you stayed optimistic, thinking that this would run its course. because you were getting better, right?
you kept all of this from paige. you were worried that she would worry and you didn’t want to make things worse. after all, you had never even told paige about your struggles with anxiety and mental health in the past and you wanted to keep it that way.
on one saturday night in june, one of paige’s teammates hosted a small get together at a quaint little restaurant with the team and their partners. everyone was stoked to see one another and catch up. normally, you would have loved this sort of thing. you used to love those types of settings, but now you were struggling to act excited about it. when paige had told you about the invite, you immediately became apprehensive.
“you excited?” she asked, telling you the details of the event “it’ll be fun”
“stoked” you managed to croak out.
when 6:00 pm rolled around, you were dressed and ready to go. paige was downstairs, keys in hand, awaiting your arrival, but you remained in the bathroom. you stared at your reflection in the mirror, trying to talk yourself down from a panic attack.
you can do this, YN, it’s gonna be ok you told yourself.
“YN!” you heard paige holler from the bottom of the stairs “we’re gonna be late, babe! are you ready?”
touching up your hair and fanning the tears out of your eyes, you rushed out of the bathroom. paige greeted you by the front door with a kiss, hands finding the small of your back and leading you out to her car.
the drive was dreadful. all you could think about was going home, thinking that something was going to go wrong and ruin your night. it had you discretely biting your nails as you looked out the car window. paige, oblivious to your agitated state, was telling you about the restaurant the get together was held at and how she was exited for you to try it. you nodded along, trying to keep yourself distracted.
after a painfully long drive to your destination, you were being escorted to the table where your party sat. you were met with toothy smiles and cheerful greetings from paige’s teammates as you arrived. paige pulled out your chair for you and sat down next to you while conversing with a few of the girls.
you were doing fine at first, only sparking up conversation with a few girls to keep your anxiety at bay. you were managing. even when the waiters began taking orders, you got through it no problem. laughter filled your small corner of the restaurant as everyone joked and talked with each other, there was absolutely nothing to be worried about.
20 minutes passed, discussion was still alive and you were getting through the night like a champ.
until the food was brought out.
the second that plate was sat in front of you, you felt the pace of your heart pick up. you didn’t know what was going on, but for some reason, the thought of eating your food in front of all of these people set you off. you hadn’t had a history of this, normally you didn’t mind eating in public. you assumed it must of been the stress of keeping food down. you stared at the steaming meal in front of you like it was some sort of extraneous creature. just the thought of lifting up the fork had you spiraling about every possible thing that could go wrong.
what if you threw up?
what if the food was raw?
what if everyone saw the way that you were eating? they’ll probably think you look funny.
your eyes welled up at the thought of it all, your head hung low to hide your dampened mood. your legs were bouncing uncontrollably to try and balance your nerves, body practically shaking from fear.
as you attempted to reserve yourself, praying no one would notice. you felt paige’s hand rest itself onto your knee, gripping it gently to halt your bouncing. she tapped the inside of your thigh, leaning in and whispering into your ear.
“hey, what’s the matter baby?” she muttered just enough for you to hear “you’re shaking”
you bit your lip harshly. fuck
you shook your head. it was all you could muster, couldn’t find the ability in your throat to produce any words. the urge to cry out for help gnawed at your chest.
before paige could question any further, you abruptly stood out of you chair. the wooden legs scraping against the black and white tile of the floor. as your back turned, rushing to the bathroom for any sort of isolation, you felt eyes burning in the back of your head. you heard paige call out for you faintly, but it was no use, you couldn’t sit at that table a moment longer.
the bathroom felt miles away as scurried past other tables. tears were streaming down your cheeks, most definitely taking your mascara with it. finally reaching the single occupant bathroom, you shut the door and locked it behind you. you were careless of the germs as you sunk to the bathroom floor in despair. knees hugged close to your chest and head buried into your arms. sobs racked your body and trepidation coursed through your veins. you were losing control of yourself.
out of the blue a knock sounded at the bathroom door. assuming it was another diner of the restaurant, you ignored it hoping they would move along. then you heard her.
“YN, are you in there? are you ok, what the hell is going on?” paige’s voice rang through the door.
“i’m fine” you hiccuped “i’ll be out in a second, i just need to pee is all”
“don’t lie to me” she said “you were shaking and sobbing when you left the table, the hell you just have to pee”
you continued to cry, loud enough for paige to hear.
“baby, please, what can i do? what’s going on, i want to help” she pleaded.
past all the pain your mind was putting you through, you yearned for paige. she made you feel so safe, the whole reason you were able to battle your anxiety in the first place. you didn’t want to rope her into this, but it was far past keeping it a secret now.
with hands still trembling, you unlocked the door and let her in. without wasting a second, she was at your side, locking the door behind her. her arms wrapped around you protectively, rubbing your back to comfort you as you fell to the floor again. she sat with you as you crawled into her. your head tucked into her chest as you cried, tears soaking into her shirt, fingers clinging to the fabric. paige tried to move the hair out of your face to get a better look at you.
“you’re scaring me, YN” a worried expression washed across her face “what can i do? who do i have to fight, huh?”
she tried to cheer you up, accepting defeat once you cried harder.
“i-i don’t-” you were struggling to speak still “i don’t even know where to start paige!”
she pulled you closer to her chest “just try baby, take your time. i’m right here with you, we’ve got all the time in the world ok. just get it all out, you’re safe”
and that was all it took for you to completely break down if front of your girlfriend. every detail from the last few days, from your past, everything about your anxiety came spilling out.
“before i met you, i had chronic anxiety. like so bad i could barely leave the house. then i moved away for school and it got better, and when i met you it pretty much went away. but you know with my mom? and school and work and now you’re in your last season with your team? it’s just been getting to me and the anxiety has started to get worse again. i can’t eat or sleep right and i feel like i’ve been losing my fucking mind, paige”
she was such an amazing listener, sitting there on the dirty bathroom floor as her girlfriend bawled into her shoulder. the whole time her eyes were glued to you, gentle fingers carefully wiping your tears away.
“why didn’t you tell me all of this? tell me about the eating and the sleeping? YN, it makes me sick imagining you going through all this alone”
“because i didn’t want you to worry and i was too embarrassed to say anything”
“well i’m worried now” she said “and embarrassed? baby…”
“i know, it’s silly, but i was just scared you’d think of me less if you knew what a mess i am when i get anxiety like this”
“i could never think less of you. ever. please know that”
“but i-”
“no, listen” she interrupted “just because you struggle with your mental health or have a hard time dealing with your anxiety doesn’t mean i’ll think anything less of you. you’re my whole world. this life and in the next, you’re my entire soul. i want nothing more than to be here for you and to help you overcome things like this. if anything, it only proves to me how strong you are and how i’m so lucky to have a girl who’s able to get through all this”
you sniffled, tears stopping as she continued “i love you, more than you know. and i’m sorry you felt like you needed to do this on your own”
you really had the best girlfriend out there. someone who loves you even through your own insecurities.
“i love you so much” you kissed her with your lips salty from the tears “thank you for being here, i don’t know what i’d do without you”
“get through all this just the same because that’s how strong you are. i’m just here to help in anyway you need” paige leaned in for another kiss, this time deeper, strong hands cradling your jaw “how about i go tell the team you’re not feeling well and we’ll go back home, eat some ice cream and watch anything you want?”
you nodded, wiping your cheeks with the back of your palm “even new girl?”
“yea baby, even new girl”
moments later, you were back in the comfort of your home. snuggled in bed next to paige, bowls of ice cream on your lap, the tv buzzing in the background.
you could finally breathe again, you just needed your girl.
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Hello! I was wondering if I could maybe as for Malleus, Azul, Idia, Vil, and maybe Leona with an S/o who tests the Orange peel theory on them?
The orange peel theory being the theory in which someone requests their significant other to peel an orange for them. If they say yes, then it means they are willing to do small tasks for their lover. If they say no, it may suggest they are less willing to offer support.
If you can’t then that’s good I just wanted to ask.
Azul Ashengrotto:
Azul sighed, looking at the orange in your hand and then back to you with raised eyebrows. Were you serious? You couldn’t peel your own orange? He let out another sigh, mumbling that you were truly hopeless without him before taking the orange from your hands. He removed his gloves (as cleaning them was more of a hassle than cleaning his bare hands) and expertly peeled away the skin, giving a beautiful presentation on your plate before sliding it back over to you. He quickly went back to his work but you did note that he completely stopped what he was doing in the middle of it to attend to your silly request.
Idia Shroud:
In the middle of a raid?! These relationship QTE’s continued to get harder the longer you were together, but he feared the consequences of failing one. He quickly typed in the chat to his teammates before setting his character on auto, fumbling with the orange and trying to peel it as quickly as he could while making sure he didn’t go down in flames in the virtual world. He handed it back to you wordlessly when he was done as he was locked back in again, letting out an agonized cry when he realized he forgot to wipe his hands so now his keyboard and mouse were hopelessly sticky.
Leona Kingscholar:
There’s something that Leona picked up in your tone that indicated this was a test of some sort, and while not knowing exactly what you were up to, he wasn’t about to fail. He did complain that you married into royalty and therefore had access to some of the perks, including servants who’d be more than happy to peel an orange for you. He was peeling it for you as he complained at least, and he retracted the orange before you could grab it and asked if he’d get a proper reward for listening so closely.  
Malleus Draconia:
Malleus it not used to being asked to do such domestic tasks. It seemed natural that everyone around him just attended to his needs and, by extension, your needs as well. Seeing as you were asking him directly to do something for you he couldn’t help but be excited about the prospect, feeling a sense of pride that you’d trust in him even if it was a simple task. He peeled the orange with a smile on his face, peeling off a piece of the actual fruit and holding it up as he asked if you’d like him to feed you as well.
Vil Schoenheit:
Vil was curious about what you were doing that was so important you couldn’t peel your own orange, weighing the options of asking and deciding it’s easier to just acquiesce. You didn’t ask him for things often while you often wordlessly retrieved things for him during his intricate skincare routines, so he didn’t see the harm in repaying your kindness. He’s also happy that you’re eating something healthy, although he doesn’t know the exact benefits oranges might have on your skin—he’ll have to look it up once he’s done his careful work, handing over the most beautifully peeled orange you’d ever seen in your life.
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anqelically · 2 days
Text
TILL DEATH DO US PART 𖤐 SAMURAI!YUTA OKKOTSU
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i. VOWS SWORN AND BROKEN
SUMMARY. abeit unwilling, you began to be accompanied by a new samurai your age. you learned that he’s better than you initially thought he was
WORD COUNT. 4.6k
SERIES SUMMARY. Set in Edo Japan, you, daughter of the L/N Clan’s head, are left powerless while your clan is on the brink of a war with the Zenin. In order to protect the clan’s future leader, your father assigned a samurai to remain by your side. Although his duty is only to protect you, Yuta Okkotsu couldn’t help the feelings that developed along the way
SERIES MASTERLIST | NEXT CHAPTER
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You wanted to be free.
Every other morning, except when the weather was bad, you’d sit near the sliding window of your room and watch outside. You’d observe the small birds that perched themselves on the roof of the estate, watching them scurry about before flying away.
You wanted to fly— to be free in the way that the birds were. They could leave, flying anywhere the wind would take them. You wanted that, to leave and live out your years beyond the confines of the L/N estate. However, you knew better than that. For as long as you lived, you’d be stuck inside the same walls.
Even if you fled, you had no place to go. You had no friends to ask for help, and you were sure that no one would want to take you in either. After all, if they were found hiding you after running away, their heads would’ve been cut off in an instant.
You never appreciated the family you were born into, even if there were many who wished to be you because you were born into your family. It suffocated you and held you back from leading a mundane life many hated, but you desired. Freedom was not your friend, but something you could only yearn for.
Your father, head of the esteemed L/N clan, was anything but your friend. He was aggressive and quick to get angry with you, even if you made a simple, reversible mistake. You knew he blamed you for your mother’s death, even if you had no choice in what had happened. The deadly infection your mother got shortly after giving birth was not your fault.
He didn’t let you go outside often, leaving you to spend most of your days at the estate. It also never helped that the L/N’s were fighting with the Zenin clan, another noble, aristocratic clan. The Zenins were aggressive in the same way your father was, so the relationship between the two clans would never work out.
Some samurai from each clan had fallen due to a number of fights, but each one had more deaths than the last. It was getting dangerous, and even someone like you, who never had anything to do with the fighting, could tell. The people of your clan were growing frantic and afraid, and you were sure it was the same for the Zenins.
Eventually, your father sought out more samurai to serve as guards. You thought he wanted to place more of them around the estate in case of a surprise attack, but it was a surprise to you when one of the said samurai knocked on your bedroom door. 
Yuta Okkotsu was his name, and he was assigned to protect you specifically. Although you had argued that you didn’t need anybody’s protection, your father said otherwise. You were stuck with a boy who was no older than you were as your bodyguard. could he even protect you? You were only 16 years old, and sure he was the same. 16 is the age most began their training, not the age they were already put to samurai duties.
Within a day of yuta guarding you, you already hated it. He was silent as he did his job, following you around the estate as you tried to go about your usual business, which wasn’t much. Yuta did the same thing the following days, keeping himself a few steps behind you. The only times you were free of his presence were in your bathroom, and during your bedtime, which was when he opted to stand outside your door instead
But even if you didn’t like having him around, he was the reason your father allowed you out more. You often went into town and roamed around, usually visiting small stalls that were selling food and buying some as Yuta trailed behind you and watched.
You hated the feeling of being watched so one day, months after he began to guard you, you had the idea to lose Yuta while you were both in town. You had a plan, one that you thought would work out well, and executed it on the weekend. The marketplace was busy, so you took your chance and ran into the crowd. Yuta, alarmed, ran after you. He didn’t catch up and lost you in the swarm of bustling people.
‘Finally,’ you thought as you repeatedly checked behind for your guard. ‘I have some alone time for myself’
It was naive of you to believe that was it.
Your feet quickly carried you through the crowd, and you eventually found a path that’d carry you to your destination. Deep into the forest, in a space that resided by the L/N estate, was a scenic lake that you claimed as your spot.
Although most of the trees surrounded the lake, there was a small space for sunlight to shine through clearly. It illuminated the bare Sakura trees during the night unless it was springtime, the time in which those three trees blossomed.
You were nearing the lake when a hand suddenly caught your arm. You yelped in surprise, turning to see a random man dressed in a kimono. His dark eyes bore into yours with ill intent as he pressed his fingers further into your arm. It was then that the hairs on your arms stood straight.
“I knew my eyes weren’t deceiving me. This pin on your yukata,” he harshly pulled your body closer, “is the L/N family’s. Only the head and their direct family wear it. You’re the head’s daughter, aren’t you?”
You mentally cursed your family’s representative pin. Although you could use your noble status to your advantage in certain situations, it was also a curse. The man in front of you was a Zenin, which you could tell by the badge stitched onto his sleeve. You were in deep trouble.
“I’m… Let me go,” you pleaded. You knew it was useless but spoke anyway, “Let me go and you won’t face the wrath of my clan. I have a samurai w-with me and-“
“You mean the scrawny boy you left behind?” the man laughed. “I’ve had my eye on you for a while, and I can tell you that he’s long gone.”
‘How stupid,’ you thought. You were acting like an idiot, too focused on trying to find some free time when there were people out for your blood. Although they didn’t want you dead specifically, killing the head of the L/N clan’s only child was more than enough to temporarily satisfy the zenins. Killing you meant there was no one left to inherit the title of clan leader when your father would die.
You didn’t want to die.
Without any warning, you kicked the man where it hurt. His grip on you loosened as he went to cover his privates in pain, and you took that opportunity to run. You didn’t get too far when you felt a rock hit your ankle. The sharp pain instantly made you fall.
You attempted to crawl away, but your efforts were futile. The man grabbed you by the ankle he hit, causing you to gasp in pain. He then pulled you closer, striking your face to silence you. You still fought back, however, hands and legs attempting to push him off.
“Get—! Get off!”
The two of you continued, and the man eventually resorted to choking you out. His arm pressed against your neck tightly, and you were left with almost no air to breathe. Your arms weakly pushed at his face as if it would do anything.
You were close to passing out when his head was suddenly sent flying. The blood from his neck splattered across your face and eventually dripped down onto your clothes as you coughed for air. His body would’ve dropped onto you if it weren’t for someone kicking it to the side.
You sat up straight, wide-eyed, about to get a good look at The body until someone placed their hand under your chin. Your head turned to face Yuta, who knelt in front of you. A bead of sweat ran down his temple as he examined you carefully. Your dirt-stained hand wiped the blood off your left eyelid before you realized he was talking to you.
Despite Yuta’s lips moving, no noise had reached your ears. You turned to the Zenin’s body at the side. his decapitated head lay open-eyed a few feet away from the rest of the body. Yuta boy noticed your glance and stopped talking, recognizing the look of shock on your face.
You were Y/N L/N, of course you had never witnessed such a scene. You were the “closeted princess”, a name that he heard a few fellow samurai call you. Although you knew such things were not a rare occurrence, experiencing it was different than hearing about it.
“Let’s get you back,” you finally heard him speak. Yuta’s voice sounded softer than you expected. “Can you walk for me?”
You met his eyes before you looked down at your leg, “My ankle…”
Yuta followed your eyes and lifted your foot. Your ankle, which throbbed relentlessly, was bleeding. You must’ve gotten the gash from the Zenin samurai earlier.
He sighed, “I see. I’ll carry you back to the estate, then.”
And that’s what he did. Yuta sheathed his katana before he lifted you into his arms and carried you towards the L/N estate. You didn’t want to be seen by a doctor, so he decided to bandage your wounds for you. It wasn’t like you knew how to properly do it, anyway.
After you took a bath, you sat on your bed as he wrapped white bandages around your palms. They had gotten scratched up when you fell onto the ground, as well as your knees. You stayed silent as Yuta rubbed on some ointment before dressing your minor wounds.
Now that you were close, you could get a good look at the boy. You never bothered to pay attention to the details of his face before. His cheeks were rounded and his nose was softly shaped. Although you thought his eyes were close to a shade of grey, they were more of a darker blue up close.
“We’re the same age, are we not?”
Yuta looked up at you, “We are. Why are you asking?”
“You didn’t even flinch at the sight,” you spoke quietly. “When you cut that man’s head off, you made it seem like nothing.”
“I am a warrior. I cannot let something like that break me so easily, especially when I have duties to fulfill,” he explained.
“Such as?”
“Protecting you.”
Silence ensued between the two of you, allowing your thoughts to consume you as you sat. Despite all the trouble you caused, he had come and saved you from meeting an early demise. It was all thanks to Yuta that you were still alive. 
Once he finished bandaging you up, you stood. The pain in your ankle had subsided, though you still tried to lean your weight onto your other foot. Yuta stood straight while you bowed at him, your hands at your side. He was left shocked at the action.
“Thank you,” you said gratefully. “That man… who knows what he or the Zenins would’ve done to me if you weren’t there. I owe you my life, Yuta Okkotsu.”
“There is no need for any thanks. It’s my duty to protect you, whether you like it or not. Please, do not bow for me.”
“Even so,” you stood straight, “I meant what I said. Even if it’s your duty, I am thankful for you saving me. I just hope it doesn’t become a common occurrence for me to run into them on my own.”
“There is no need for you to fret,” Yuta took out his sheathed sword and held it in front of you. You stared at it, and then at him, wondering why he held it. “I swear on this sword of mine that I’ll always be there to protect you.”
The samurai was true to his word. As a year passed and tensions between the L/N’s and the Zenin worsened, Yuta stuck by your side. Although you still hated the feeling of being trapped with someone else, you learned to see his presence as a friend’s, and not just a mere guard’s. 
He still respected your privacy and also learned to give you more space when inside the estate. But now, when you went out, he kept a closer watch on you and the surrounding area. After the incident with one of the Zenin’s, you grew appreciative of his watchful gaze outside.
However, a trigger away from war, you began to barely leave the estate. You were trapped once again, suffocating in boredom. Although the estate was quite large and there were various things to do inside, none of them interested you. Even though the weather was nice and you wanted to roam around town, your father wouldn’t allow you to leave. 
Our only source of outside entertainment was Yuta’s small gifts. Almost every other day he had something new for you. Dango from a new stand, unique jewelry, kites to fly in the estate’s garden, handmade pins. Anything you named and anything he thought you’d enjoy would be brought home to you. He was making an effort to keep you entertained, and you appreciated it.
Nonetheless, you sought more than that. One day, you asked Yuta if the two of you could leave at night. You wanted to spend some time at your spot, even if it became known to tuta. You were sure he wouldn’t be able to memorize the path at night anyway.
“It’s not safe to be roaming around, especially at nighttime,” he reminded you. Even though he wanted you to have as much fun as you could, your safety was his top priority.
“There will always be risks.” You recalled, “Though, I do remember you swearing that you’ll always protect me. Where I want to go is a place no one else ever goes to, I promise.”
You stood close to him, a pleading look in your eyes. Yuta stared back at you with a contemplative expression. He wanted to reject your idea flatly, but he couldn’t bring himself to.
He sighed, “Alright, I’ll come out with you tonight. Your father is leaving for the Gojo clan’s estate after supper. When the sun sets, we’ll leave.”
“Oh how wonderful you are,” you cheered, wrapping your arms around the samurai. He stiffened in his spot as you jumped against him. “Thank you thank you thank you!”
Later in the day, you eventually saw your father out of the estate. With his body of samurai, they left towards the Gojo estate, which resided quite a distance away. Although you didn’t know why they were meeting, you were sure it was to prepare even more measures against the Zenin. After all, the enemy of your enemy is your ally.
Yuta followed right behind you as you navigated through the forest. You walked as if you knew the path by heart, which you did. Although Yuta suggested you two bring an oil lamp for light, you told him it wasn’t necessary. You moved in the dark without hitting anything while even yuta was struggling to see. He now understood why nobody else wandered around there.
Eventually, the two of you arrived at your beloved spot. Since it was early spring, the Sakura trees had blossomed pink around the lake. No matter how many times you had seen the sight, you remained in awe of it.
Yuta also admired the view in front of him. Blossoms from the trees fell and slowly drifted into the lake as each breeze passed. The scenery was one he wouldn’t mind having painted in his mind.
You noticed the look in his eyes and smiled, “I found this area during the fall years ago. It was the middle of the day, so it was definitely easier getting here, even if I didn’t know the way back then. When I came back in the spring, it was a scene I could never forget.”
“I can see why you would never forget it. It’s beautiful.”
“Happy we came out here?”
He glanced at you, “I’ll be happy if you also get back safely.”
You corrected him, “When we get back safely. Don’t leave yourself out of it just because you’re supposed to protect me. I won’t let you die for me.”
“I don’t have any issue with-“
“That doesn’t matter,” you cut him off. “It’s not right for you to give your life up for mine. Plus, there isn’t anyone else I’d rather have around.”
His heart tightened slightly, “Is that so?”
“It very much is,” you began to walk towards the lake. “You seemed cold when I met you for the first time. But now that I’ve gotten to know you, you’re just awkward and a tad shy.”
“Ah, don’t remind me,” Yuta turned his head as he walked beside you. “I’m glad your perspective of me has changed.”
When you two stood directly in front of the lake, you were quick to take off your shoes and lift the end of your kimono. You dipped your foot into the water, testing out the temperature. After all the walking it took to get there, the coolness of the water made a satisfied breath leave your lips.
Without a care for the decorative fabric you were dressed in, you sat down on the grass and submerged your legs into the water. Yuta watched as your body immediately relaxed, and he then joined you at your request. Just like you did, he let out a small sigh of relief.
“Why did you become a samurai?” you asked. “I mean, all you do is spend your time watching over me. Doesn’t it bore you?”
Yuta’s voice softened, “Not at all. I like to think of it as spending time with you, even if it is my duty. You would never bore me.”
Your lips parted in an effort to respond, but you found nothing to say. All of Yuta’s sweet words always managed to take yours away. He began to speak again before you could even move.
“I lost my best friend when I was young. Our village was under attack, and there was no one protecting us. There used to be samurai assigned to us, but they got bored of sitting around and never came back. After all, why would a small, poor village like ours need protection?”
As Yuta spoke, he had a face of longing and despondence. In all the time you spent together, you had never seen him sound or look such a way. Behind the small smile he always gave you was a face of despair that would come out easily at the mention of his late friend.
You let him continue, “The men that attacked us killed and burned most of the village down, and I was part of the few lucky survivors. When I saw my friend’s body burning up in flames, something ignited in me. I wanted to become a samurai who would protect others, unlike the ones who ran away from their duties. After a long time of dreaming and training, I became a samurai assigned to you. Protecting you wasn’t the samurai life I envisioned, but I’m glad I got the opportunity. I wouldn’t want it any other way, Y/N.”
His head turned to look at you, and he was met with your face being only a breath’s distance away from his. Yuta stared at you fondly, and you reciprocated his look without realizing.
Even the smallest of moments together with you he cherished. Yuta was hesitant to be assigned you at first. Yes, you were his age and someone he should be able to get along with, but it was that exact reason that made him nervous. You were his age, and a girl from the L/N clan, one mistake and he thought his newly-begun career would be over at your word.
He found himself lucky that you were different than what he envisioned. You weren’t demanding in any bit, but that was only because you didn’t want him there at all. However, once he saved you that one day from the Zenin man, you opened up and slowly accepted his presence, and that acceptance slowly turned into a want of having him around.
Yuta wanted to stay with you too.
He had paused when the thought crossed his mind, ‘Why? Why am I thinking this way?’
He was assigned one duty, and that was to protect you. For as long as Yuta was assigned your guard, he had to protect you. There was supposed to be no room foro his personal feelings or desires, but his thoughts said otherwise.
Why did he think that way? There was only one reason why, and it obviously had to do with my.  you. You, who he strived to stay close by. All of his feelings, actions, and wants led to one conclusion— Yuta Okkotsu had fallen for you.
Your face had leaned towards his the slightest bit when he violently jerked back. You were startled at his sudden action, watching as he abruptly stood up with a disturbed face. You wondered what was making him feel such.
“We should head back right now,” he suggested before you could even question him.
You scrambled to get up, “W-wait, I-“
“The longer we’re out here, the more dangerous it becomes. Someone may have followed us out here. We shouldn’t delay.”
Yuta spoke in a way that caused you to stiffen, his words cold. You felt as if you owed him an apology, though you didn’t know what for. You silently accepted the fact that you had to leave when he couldn’t face you, though you couldn’t help but wonder what you did wrong. In a defeated frame of mind, you pinched the end of his sleeve and led him back to the estate.
You were angry. No, angry was too strong of a word to describe how you felt. Frustrated was the perfect word to describe it. You weren’t meant to hear the maids’ gossip, but catching a snippet of their conversation was more than enough for you to listen in.
“…the boy seemed to be doing his job well enough.”
“That girl, I wonder what trouble she caused this time.”
“We’ve served L/N-sama and Y/N for years, but that girl is always full of surprises. Maybe she made a move on the samurai.”
“Well whatever she did, that Okkotsu requested to switch places with one of L/N-sama’s guards-”
And you drowned out the rest of their talk.
When word first reached your ears you were shocked. You leaned against the wall as you listened, your hands gripping at your sides. Shock turned into confusion, and that confusion eventually resulted in frustration. 
Yuta didn’t want to be by your side any longer, and the thought of that alone made you upset. Over a month passed since the incident at the lake. Was he upset over that? Was he suddenly sick of you? You felt the distance slowly grow after what happened, but you never thought it’d result in this.
Not afraid of confronting him, you searched for him around the estate. You found him walking, his aura the slightest disheartened. If anyone should’ve felt that way, you thought that it should’ve been you.
You walked up to him and placed a finger on his chest, “You’re a liar.”
He glanced at you, confused, “Y/N?”
“You’ve been distancing yourself from me these days, and I have to hear from another that you want to switch duties with somebody else?”
“Y/N, please-“ Yuta glanced around.
“Don’t Y/N me,” you furrowed your brows. “Why couldn’t you tell me straight to my face? What do you not want to- Hey!”
The boy suddenly caught you by your arm and dragged you towards your room. You could care less about the looks the two of you were sent by witnesses, something Yuta could not do. He steeled his face as they passed their judgments, rushing to bring you to your room.
When you arrived, you tore your arm away from his grip. You wanted to tell him off and say he had no right to drag you all the way to your bedroom, but you already lost the argument by letting him do so in the first place. 
Yuta massaged his temples as he stared into your eyes, “Please don’t make this harder than it already is to do.”
You huffed, “I don’t want to argue or be difficult, but this is unfair! You promised me that you’d always be by my side to protect me. You're breaking your promise to me, Yuta, without reason. That’s not fair.”
“Breaking my promise is the last thing I want to do, but it’s more complicated than that. I’m a samurai, Y/N, and my feelings mustn’t get in the way of my duties.”
When his eyes had met yours, a wave of guilt coursed through your body and any bitter feelings disappeared. The first thought that came to mind was how he had violently pulled away from you when you leaned your lips closer to his. Did he grow uncomfortable with you?
“I’m sorry for that day by the lake,” you apologized. Yuta’s lips parted. “I-I don’t know what I was thinking. I know it sounds ridiculous, but I swear it’s true.”
“Then why did you lean in? Was it just because you could?”
Your heart skipped a beat, “Not at all! It was like my body had moved out of its own will. I think… I think I was lost in the moment, that’s all. That must’ve been it.”
So even you were confused as to why— any sliver of hope within his heart had disappeared. Were Yuta’s feelings reciprocated? Did you lean in for the sake of craving a kiss? Was there another reason behind it?
“Maybe it is better for someone else to guard you after all. we’ll only get hurt if we remain around each other, Y/N.”
“How so? we’ve been just fine this past year! I know I messed up, but-“
“But it wasn’t you who messed up, you see. It was me. I made the mistake of getting too attached. As I told you, my feelings and work can’t mix. I attract misfortune to those I love—“
Yuta’s hand tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear. His fingers then traveled down to caress your cheek ever so gently, holding you as if this time would be the last. You could only stand with your heart hammering against your chest as he brushed his thumb across your cheek. He told himself that this would be his first, and last, time doing so.
“—and I’m afraid that doesn’t exclude you.”
“That’s… What are you saying, Yuta?”
He gave you a thoughtful stare. Before Yuta could reply, a knock sounded at your door. You both immediately pulled away before a servant opened the door and announced that your father was calling you down.
Yuta answered for you, saying that he’d escort you down immediately. So, left without an answer, you two walked in silence to your father. And every question you had left you confused for the following year, since all that Yuta parted with was a “Sorry”.
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NOTE. and this is chapter 1 thank you for your patience!! i should probably say that this series is fast-paced + has lots of time jumps, since everything will be taking place over the course of a few years. at the start of this chapter they were 16, for example, but they’re 18 at the end
TAGLIST. @seneon @moomv @mochuchi @soleelia @nanaminis @little-miss-chaoss @krushedstars
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vbecker10 · 2 days
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Coffee Coffee Coffee
Pairing: Loki x female reader (Y/N)
Summary: Your over protective boyfriend, Loki, finds out you haven't eaten anything today and he's not happy about it but in your defense, you did have coffee.
A/N: I didn't even have coffee today so it's weird that this is in my brain lol... enjoy 💚
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A series of knocks pulls your attention from the email you are typing and you check the clock in the corner of the screen. There's only one person who could be looking for you this late, the rest of your team went home a little over an hour ago.
You rub your eyes and get up from your desk, "Come in, Loki."
The door opens and the God of Mischief enters, "Hello darling." He meets you in the middle of your office and pulls you into a tight hug.
You reach up and kiss his lips lightly, pulling away much too soon for Loki's liking. He smirks, "Well now that won't do."
"No?" you ask with a smile.
He shakes his head no. You reach up again and as he leans to me you, you change direction slightly so you kiss his cheek. A giggle escapes you as Loki's hands move down to your hips and he pulls you flush against his body. His left hand raises to your cheek and he tilts your head up gently, then he presses his lips firmly to yours. His hand grips your hip tighter and you give into his kiss.
"I'm still working," you tell him breathlessly when your lips finally leave his.
"You work too hard," he tells you as he lets go of you.
He walks towards one of the empty chairs facing you desk and takes a seat. You move past him to sit behind you desk but he gently catches your wrist. Pulling lightly, he brings you towards him and lifts you onto his lap so you are facing him.
"I missed you today," he tells you in a low voice, his hands settle on your lower back.
"I missed you too, I'm sorry I had to cancel our lunch. Today has been awful," you wave towards your desk which is stacked high with files.
"Will you be much longer?" he asks, tucking a piece of hair behind you ear.
You shrug, "Hopefully only another hour. I just need to finish-". Your stomach rumbles, cutting into your sentence and you cringe when you can see in his eyes that he heard it.
"Did you eat anything today?" he asks in response to the sound.
"I had coffee," you answer quickly and immediately know that was the wrong answer.
His fingers drum rhythmically on your hip and he asks, "Did you at least drink any water?"
"Yea a little," you nod but he raises his eyebrow skeptically. "I mean, there's water in coffee."
He groans, his hand raising to cover his eyes. You hold back a giggle, knowing it won't help your situation. "Why are you like this?" he asks in a half joking tone.
You smile wide and shrug, "I like coffee."
"I can see that darling," he says, shaking his head lightly to hide a smile. "Dare I ask how many cups you've had today?"
You pretend to think for a moment then begin to count on your fingers, "One, two, three, four, five-"
"Y/N," he stops you.
"Only two," you answer.
"Are you sure?" he asks in a tone that means he clearly does not believe you.
You look away from his gaze but he touches your chin and guides your eyes back to his. "Four... but they were hours apart," you tell him honestly.
He shakes his head, "Love, you can't survive on coffee alone."
"That's literally how I made it through college," you inform him and cross your arms against your chest.
Without another word, he lifts you off his lap and sets you down so he can get up. "What-" you start to ask but he takes your hand and begins to move towards the door. "Where are we going? I still have work to do," you tell him.
"We're going to get dinner," he says as he opens the door.
You suddenly realize how hungry you are and follow him out into the hallway. "Ooh, can we get dessert too?" you ask with a smile.
He nods, "Of course, darling."
"And coffee?" you ask half joking.
"I think you've had enough coffee for the week," he answers as he pushes the button for the elevator.
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I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did 💚💚
@soubi001 @michelleleewise @harlequin-hangout @ace-of-gay @xorpsbane @mochie85 @sheris532 @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @kkdvkyya @animnerd @peaches1958 @peachyjinx @lokiandbuckysdoll @winterfrostlovetriangle @high-functioning-lokipath @winniewings @pics-and-fanfics @cabingrlandrandomcrap @icytrickster17 @lokisgoodgirl @mischief2sarawr @stupidthoughtsinwriting @mjsthrillernp @holdmytesseract @lulubelle814 @crimson25 @goblingirlsarah @janineb86 @chantsdemarins @simone818283 @tonystank8 @im-briana-stan @foxherder @chantsdemarins @catsladen @alexakeyloveloki @siconetribal @lokidokieokie @dragonmurray @honeydew3064 @malfoycassimalfoy @kneelingformyloki @newtomofgods
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rebeliz7 · 1 day
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Dangerous
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Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader / Natasha Romanoff x Reader / Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff
Request: 32 & 64 prompts for Wanda or Natasha or maybe both😏
32. “If you interrupt me one more time, so help me god.”
64. “You’re not taking me to bed. ever.” “Who said it had to be on the bed?”
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“If you interrupt me one more time, so help me God.” Natasha threatens you, annoyed and left eye twitching. 
She’s not being serious, at least not entirely, but you still raise your hands in surrender and lean back in your seat. 
However, her eyes stay firmly locked with yours, and you have to smile at how worked up she seems. She rolls her eyes when you smile, just like you were expecting her to, and the meeting moves along. 
You weren’t interrupting her exactly, but it’s become intensely apparent that your presence annoys the hell out of Natasha. Whatever the reason.  
Not that you go out of your way to annoy her, that’s not the case at all. The thing is, and you’ve been aware of this for a while now, you make her nervous. So nervous that she doesn’t know how to deal with you. 
No one else seems to be aware of that little fact, although the entire Avengers Team lives together for the time being. But Natasha knows that you know, which makes her angry. 
Irrationally so, you must say. 
“She’s gonna get you one of these days.” Clint warns you in a low voice. 
“Yeah, but not today.” You joke, and Clint laughs softly to himself. 
“You don’t wanna push Nat. Trust me.” 
“Oh I'm not worried, trust me.”
The meeting ends on a neutral note, since Sam and Bucky lost track of their target on their latest mission. A team needs to fly out to Mexico to lend a hand and things will get a move on again. 
Steve and Clint are going, and so is Shuri. This is not Shuri’s first mission, but you take it upon yourself to get her as ready as she can be before they fly out. 
She’s grown on you, in a 'younger sister' sort of way. You guess it's because she’s younger than you, and so amazingly smart, that her awe for everything you guys do endears her to you greatly. 
“Don’t get killed while I’m gone.” She tells you as you walk her into the hanger, and you’re tempted to laugh. 
“You’re going on a mission with Barton, you’re the one that should be worried. I’ll be fine right here.”
“True, but Natasha is about to kick your ass into a coma if you keep pushing her.” She reminds you, and you huff indignantly. 
“Why does everyone think she can kick my ass that easily?” You ask loudly, just as Clint comes out of the jet with a pointed look. 
“Because she can.” He deadpans. “And she will if you don’t give her some space.”
“I didn’t hear any of that.” You pointendly tell him while Shuri gives you a goodbye hug. “Still trying to process this lack of faith from both of you in my fighting skills.”
“Keep it up.” Clint tells you with another look.
“That’s what she said.” You joke, and you hear Shuri laugh too. Clint chuckles and shakes his head at you, probably thinking that you’re gonna get your ass kicked for real.  
“There’s a kid here!” Steve shouts from the jet, and you run back inside before that lecture reaches your ears.  
When you walk inside the kitchen you find Wanda by the stove, stirring a red sauce and your spirits instantly pique up. 
“Can I have some?” You ask, coming up behind her. She yelps in surprise, and you press a kiss on her cheek. 
“You scared me.” She smiles, her cheeks tainting red at your proximity, and you lean against the counter as she turns off the stove before checking on the pasta. “Can you set the table? This is ready.”
She’s a pro at this, and you can't resist her cooking. 
“It smells really good. My mouth is watering already.” You tell her as you set out two plates, and her cheeks grow redder. 
You smile to yourself, and can’t deny that you’re almost inclined to kiss those cheeks again, but you resist the urge. You and Wanda didn’t exactly date, but you did sleep together a few times, and you thought of asking her out properly, but the timing was never right so nothing real ever came up from it. 
Then she moved on -with Vision of all people- and you moved on too. Not that anyone was supportive when you started dating Emma Frost, and maybe you see their point now. Emma was a wild ride, to say the least. 
Shaking your head to get rid of the memories, you pass Wanda the plates. 
“Can you get another one?” Wanda asks you. 
“This isn’t dinner for two?” You ask as you go to take down another plate, and she shakes her head. 
“Natasha is here too. She went to take a quick shower, so she'll be here any minute.”
You smile to yourself. 
...
Natasha is tempted to bolt the moment she sees you’re going to join them for dinner, and you grin when you meet her eyes. It must be infuriating that you can so easily tell what goes through her mind, when she’s spent her entire life training to be unreadable. 
You know she hates it, and often wonders how you’re capable of doing it. To be quite honest, you have no idea either. You just have this sixth sense when it comes to her, that lets you read her like an open book. 
But, you keep your mouth shut all through dinner. You behave, while Wanda and Natasha chat away. You even get seconds, and fill their glasses with more wine when they get low. 
All in all, you don’t annoy Natasha at all while you eat, and you even offer to clean up while they move to the living room with a second bottle of red to continue their conversation. 
You put the dishes in the dishwasher, wipe down all the surfaces, and when you’re done you take a beer from the fridge with the intention to leave them to it. 
“You can join us.” Natasha calls out, just as you take your first sip. 
“You sure?” You ask her, and she rolls her eyes, her go-to reaction whenever you open your mouth.
“As long as you keep the innuendos to yourself, we’re okay.” She sips her wine delicately then, and you -a mere mortal- become entranced with the shape of her lips, and the sensual way in which she drinks. 
“Sure.” You clear your throat, and drink almost half of your beer in one go. 
You’d be lying if you said that you’ve never thought of Natasha in other, much more naked circumstances, but you’re aware that that is never gonna happen, and you’re okay with it. 
“You’re uncharacteristically quiet.” Wanda notices after a while when she comes back with yet another bottle of red, and another beer for you. 
“I don’t want to annoy the pretty lady over there.” Natasha groans at your response, which only makes you smile. You almost can’t believe how easy it is for her to become agitated in your presence. 
“You gotta try harder than that.” She deadpans, and Wanda takes the seat next to yours instead of sitting in front of you, like she was before she went to the kitchen. 
“I’m not annoying, am I?” You ask Wanda, and she gives you this smile that you immediately feel drawn to. 
You breathe in deeply as she gives you this look that makes hot electricity run through you, and runs her fingers through your hair. You do miss her, especially when she’s looking at you like this and her fingers are in your hair.
“You’re quite charming.” She says, and you think she might reciprocate if you were to kiss her right now. 
“You see?” You look at Natasha, and she rolls her eyes, but not with malice. 
“Maybe I just don’t like you.” She says before sipping her newly refilled glass of wine, and you clutch your chest in mock offense. 
“You wound me.” You scoff while smiling, but deep down you do feel hurt by her words. Not a lot, but still. 
“Natasha likes you.” Wanda tells you then, and you’d think she’s joking if the look on Natasha’s face wasn’t so telling. 
“She does, huh?” You ask, mostly to yourself. 
“I thought there were things we agreed on not sharing with anyone.” Natasha reminds her, and Wanda shrugs lightly, the glass of wine close to her lips as she smiles. 
“What happens in the bedroom stays in the bedroom?” She asks, and with a start you realize that she’s slightly drunk, and oversharing is -unfortunately- her one obvious tell. 
That’s how everyone found out that you two were sleeping together a while ago, and right now she’s just revealed that she and Natasha are a little more than just friends.
“I swear to God, if you even think of saying anything right now.” Natasha threatens you, and you laugh, your comeback at the tip of your tongue. 
“She likes you too.” Wanda tells Natasha, her finger pointing at you, and you choke on your beer. 
“You’re not seriously trying to play matchmaker here.” Natasha’s grin is otherwise telling of how amused she’s finding this entire exchange. 
“What? It's not like I even had to look inside her head to know that.” Wanda says, and you finally put your beer down after getting your coughing fit under control. “I’m not wrong, am I?” 
She has the audacity to shoot you a smug look, as if she wasn’t throwing you under the bus here.
“Well, no.”
“Great.” Natasha sneers. 
“Okay, now hold on.” You speak up as Wanda laughs, and you take the glass of wine from her hands. She’s had enough to drink. “There are different levels of liking someone.”
“Educate us, please.” Wanda is trying to hold back laughter now, and you really - she’s just - she’s such a little shit.
“Well, I wouldn’t exactly kick Nat out of my bed. But, I’m not interested in anything more than that. No offense.” You add quickly.
“None taken, and you’re not taking me to bed. Ever. So don’t worry about it.” Natasha tells you, and how can you not take that one? Sometimes she just makes it easy for you. 
“Who said it had to be a bed?” You retort and her face turns red, and you’re not sure if she’s about to kick your ass or just shoot you on the spot.
However, you’re not expecting her to walk over, and kiss you dead on the lips. Which is exactly what she does. 
When she pulls back Wanda is laughing, and you’re pretty sure you’re dreaming. 
“Cat got your tongue?” Natasha asks when you finally open your eyes, and you swallow with difficulty. 
Without waiting a beat you pull her back in, kissing her again, a bit more forcefully than she did first, and she kisses you back in earnest. A part of you isn’t sure of what’s happening, but the other part of you is enjoying this turn of events quite a bit. 
“Well, well, well.” You comment when she pulls back, as if she’s finally realized what she was doing. If you’re smiling like a lunatic it’s only because you truly can't help it. 
“Is anyone going to kiss me?” Wanda asks, and you break eye contact with Natasha to look at her. 
“Come here, you needy monster.” You pull her onto your lap, and she straddles you with ease and familiarity. A pretty smile on her pink lips as she cups your face, and you wrap your arms around her waist. 
Kissing Wanda is still heaven. You’re once again submerged in her world, and you still find it incredibly addictive. She bites your bottom lip softly as she rocks her hips forward to meet yours, and you can’t help but let your hands wander. 
Grabbing a handful of her ass you pull her closer to you as she deepens your kiss, and you can taste the red wine on her tongue. Her breath is hot as she breathes heavily into your mouth, and your mind becomes fuzzy with want.
“Such a good kisser.” Wanda says against your lips, and you smile sweetly. She’s so adorable, especially from this angle, and the way she scrunches up her nose makes you want to kiss all over her face. 
“Better than me?” Natasha asks, and to your surprise you turn your head to find her sitting right next to you. 
“I’m not sure.” Wanda says with a false thoughtful look, and hidden smile. 
Natasha doesn’t give her a verbal answer, instead you watch the redhead grab Wanda by the neck, and pull her down for an intense kiss that has Wanda moaning in a matter of seconds. 
You watch them kiss while holding Wanda’s hand, and your throat dries up. You watch, and realize that this is actually happening. You watch until you can’t anymore. 
Grabbing a hold of Wanda’s arm you pull her back to you, and kiss her hungrily. She’s still moaning, her hands now desperately pulling off your shirt, as you do the same with her sweater. 
You hear Natasha softly chuckling next to you, but you’re already too wrapped up in everything that Wanda is to care about the world, let alone Natasha’s smug laughter. 
“I’ve missed your lips,” Wanda says as she pulls back slightly, a tipsy smile on her extremely kissable lips. 
You smile while your hands squeeze her bare waist, and you don't hold back from kissing her again. You’ve missed her lips too, and you hope she can read between the lines. 
Her hands in your hair pull back lightly, exposing your neck as she moves to place heady kisses all over it. You’re breathing rapidly now, your hands massaging her breasts, as she licks a path up your throat, still pulling on your hair. 
“Kinda feeling left out here.” Natasha’s voice breaks through the fog in your mind, and Wanda sits back on your lap, as she tries to get her breathing under control. 
“I’m not sure of what's happening exactly.” Wanda says as you inch closer to her. Your hands are still on her, touching every inch of her exposed skin as you can, while she combs back your hair. You kiss her upper breast, careful not to leave any hickies, despite desperately wanting to. 
She gasps, and you look up to kiss her lips, focusing on pinching her nipples now as she rocks her hips forward. 
“You want to stop?” You ask after pulling back only the necessary amount to be able to ask her that. 
“No.” She shakes her head, her hand gently caressing your cheek as she looks into your eyes. “I think I want you both.”
Instinctively you look towards Natasha, who is still holding her glass of wine, and sipping the red liquid delicately as she observes the two of you. 
“Do you - ” Wanda grabs your chin, making you look at her. “Do you want me?” She asks, and you move to pull her ever closer to you. As if that’s possible.  
“Always.” You nod quickly, and as you kiss the corner of her lips she turns to look at Natasha with the same question. 
“You don’t ever have to worry about that.” You hear Natasha say, but you refuse to stop kissing every single inch of her skin to look. 
“I don’t?” Wanda asks breathlessly, your mouth doing wonders on her neck, while your hands reacquainted themselves with the rest of her body. 
“You don’t.” Natasha says, and she sounds much closer now. Her voice is more sultry than you've ever heard it before, and you pull back, if only to see the look on her face. 
You watch her take Wanda’s outstretched hand as she stands, and pulls Wanda on her feet as well. You swallow with difficulty as you watch her kiss Wanda softly, lips merely ghosting over each other. 
However fleeting the kiss though, you see Wanda’s legs quiver and Natasha’s arm wrapping around her waist to keep her upright. 
“Bedroom?” She asks her with the confidence of someone who already knows the answer, and Wanda nods, as if in a daze. 
You watch them walk away, and you try to calm your racing heart, but it’s difficult when Wanda turns to you from the hallway. 
“You coming?” She asks you, and you’re pretty sure that your brain short circuits. 
You stand up, picking up your unfinished beer, and down it in one go before you nod, and walk towards her. 
“That's what she said.” You stupidly joke, and Natasha rolls her eyes expectedly, but now you see that the edge in her eyes isn’t entirely hate. 
“Incorrigible.” Wanda smiles as she grabs your hand, and pulls enough for you to fall into step next to her. 
“You’re dangerous.” You murmur close to her ear as you wrap your arms around her from behind, and she throws you a side glance, feigning innocence. 
“I have no idea what you mean.” She says, and Natasha chuckles lightly as she unlocks the door to her bedroom. 
“Sure you don’t.” She says as she pulls Wanda in for a demanding kiss, and you close the door behind you. 
Well, you think to yourself, Natasha might actually end up killing you after all, but at least it’ll be pleasurable for the both of you. 
...
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spideyhexx · 2 days
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1 am thoughts with kit;
mdni (here is other academic rival!coryo)
on the topic of being academic rivals with coryo, little petty fights would happen all the time.
even during school hours, where you’re speaking in harsh, hushed tones to one another in the library because he took the book you needed on purpose of course.
Yes, he did need to book for an assignment. But, he already read it and is pretending he still needs it just to piss you off. And you know it. Even though it’s a dumb fight and you know you’ll get the book in time in some way, you’ve had it. You’re tired of the fighting with him, with how annoyed he makes you feel.
Coriolanus doesn’t expect you to straight up ignore him when he asks you what you’re gonna do about him having the book. You turn on your heel and go back to where you set up at a study table, aggressively putting your notebook and pens away, not daring to look at him even when you hear his footsteps approach.
“Are you gonna answer me? I have the book you need, what’re you gonna do about it?”
You don’t respond still. Ignoring him as though he’s not there. He’s searching for a fight. Coriolanus wants to hear you snap at him, but he’s getting angrier the more you ignore him.
“Can you stop with the silence? I’ll give you the book,” he tries, seeing if that will make you talk to him but you don’t. You finish packing your back, zipping it up and before you have the chance to sling it over your shoulder, you feel his hand grab your jaw to turn your face to him.
“Don’t ignore me,” he spits out, in a stern tone even he didn’t expect to have. His grip isn’t hurting, but it makes you freeze in your place, feeling vulnerable but also turned on. Which is another thing in of itself. His hands were so nice. And he held your face like he needed to. Made you look at him. It was always difficult to suppress your attraction to Coriolanus, and he’s making it harder.
“Sorry,” he mutters, letting go of your jaw, as though he snapped out of it and realized how aggressive he had gotten, that your breath hitched in a way he wondered if you liked it or if he was overthinking.
“Thought you’d want me to ignore you, Snow. I annoy you so much, maybe it’s better if we just leave each other alone,” you tell him, trying to keep your voice steady.
His mouth parts to say something, but he stops himself. He looks at the book in his hands and just holds it out to you, waiting for you to take it. You do, turning to put it into your back.
Coriolanus clears his throat and steps closer, leaning his head down so he can whisper to your ear, “I don’t want you to ignore me.”
He watches for your reaction but the moment you lock your eyes back to his, he’s looking away, standing up straight and fixing the strap of his bag on him, starting to walk off, but not without saying, “see you in class, dork.”
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nathaslosthershit · 2 days
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Teenage Angst (Dad!CL16)
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Summary: Charles Leclerc’s 16 year old daughter, Lila, has had quite the rebellious phase and the Monegasque just can’t figure out what to do. Luckily, his wife has some of the answers.
Charles loved his life. He loved his job. He loved his home. Most of all, he loved his family. But recently, his job seemed to interfere with his homelife and in turn impacted his relationship with his family. 
His family was well versed in the ways of having a husband and father as an Formula 1 driver. They were used to race weekends in exciting new countries, or race weekends spent on the couch as they cheered Charles on. Recently though, as his eldest daughter began to experience the highs and lows of teenage life, she began to resent her father for all the time he spent out of the house. 
Her dad was her most favorite person in the world but she hadn’t ever really cared for Formula 1. She liked watching her dad race and seeing all of the ‘honorary uncles’ she had gained over the years but without them she knew she would never have been a fan of the sport. So, when she began to associate it with taking her father away, she couldn’t stand to watch it anymore.
It had become a source of tension between her and her mom. Charles’ wife had tried her entire life to not force the kids into the world of Formula 1. If they didn’t want to kart, they did not have to. They didn’t need to try and follow in the impressive but expectant legacy their father was bound to leave behind. But they were expected to support their Dad. When Lila refused to watch the race with the family, fights would often break out. Her mom always kept her composure, not one to scream, but when she had a 16 year old trying to yell every hateful thing she could think of at her, it made it hard. 
After a particularly nasty fight, one where Lila was sent to her room and grounded, the tension in the Leclerc house was palpable. Even though his wife hadn’t told him about it, Charles could sense the shift the moment he walked in the door. He hadn’t been given a chance to inquire about it though because the moment he stepped foot in the entryway, he had been tackled by his youngest daughter, only 6 years old. His wife then too joined the mix, happy to have her husband back (and ecstatic to have another parent in the household to deal with her 16 year old). 
“Where is Lila?” Charles asked.
“Ah, she is a bit grumpy at the moment. I am letting her cool down before dinner, which is just about ready. Please quickly shower and get all the plane germs off before you sit to eat with us.” His wife demanded.
As Charles walked up to his room, he passed his eldest daughter’s bedroom and was about to walk in till he noticed she had locked the door, something that she seemed to be doing a lot more recently. Deciding maybe it is best she cools down a little, he walked right by.
Everyone, except Lila, was sat and waiting for the 16 year old to join at the table when after 5 minutes they decided to just start eating. When she finally walked down, she said a quick “hi” to her father, not even looking in his direction, before she started eating.
“Lila, why don’t you thank your mother for her cooking before you eat all the food she made?” Charles asked. Immediately, his wife tensed up, knowing that this would set her oldest daughter off.
“Why? She made pasta. It isn't exactly revolutionary or even hard.”
“She works hard to keep you both alive and happy each day. And the fact she put a lot of love into making sure you are fed well is something to be grateful for.” He was starting to raise his voice, which only caused Lila to turn her attitude up even more.
“She is just a stupid housewife living off the money you make, if it is so hard she can just hire help.” 
There was silence after this. Lila watched as her mother silently got up, tears streaming down her face, and walked into the kitchen, not wanting to cause a scene or have another fight with her daughter. Lila immediately regretted the things she said, once again just looking for the most hurtful things to say.
“Are you kidding me? I cannot believe that those disgusting things just came out of my very own daughter’s mouth! Why would you ever say such a thing about such a wonderful and loving mother? When the hell did this attitude develop?”
“Maybe you would know if you weren’t gone all the time racing stupid fucking cars. God, Dad, you have no right to try and parent me when you aren’t even here. Go back to Ferrari, they are the only family that wants you!” She was screaming now. Nothing she said was true, of course, she knew it, but she couldn’t stop till she made everyone feel as miserable as she did. 
“Enough! I am so disappointed and appalled by the things you are saying. Go to your room because I sure do not want to see you tonight!” At this, Lila stormed off, stomping up the stairs till she slammed the door. Charles could almost laugh at how cliche the whole situation was. Hormonal teenager upsetting her parents then storming off. But he couldn’t think about that now that he had his beautiful and sweet wife crying to herself in the kitchen, and his 6 year old daughter tearing up at all the fighting. “I am sorry, sweetie. Why don’t you go and put a television show on and I can get the special candy I got for you while I was away?” This seemed to do the trick as his youngest daughter immediately perked up and ran to the living room.  
Walking into the kitchen, Charles was met with his wife silently washing the dishes, but he could see how her body shook as she cried. She immediately melted into his embrace as he wrapped his arms around her from behind.
“Charles, she has been like this for weeks now. It always is always worse when you are gone. I- I don’t know what to do. I feel like the world’s worst mother, always fighting and grounding her.”
“My love, it is in no way your fault. How she acted was out of line and I am so disgusted by it. None of what she said was true and I hope you know that.” He said, kissing his wife’s forehead.
“I know, I know. She is just trying to get us upset. I just don’t know how much more I can handle.”
“I am the worst husband for not being here. I am sorry, my love. If I knew it was this bad then I would have-”
“You would have what, Charles? You have a job that takes a lot of time. You will sometimes be out of the loop. And that is okay. You work hard to provide for us, so we can live such a nice and comfortable life. I heard what she said to you too. It wasn’t fair of her to get mad at your career. I think she is just upset that you are gone so often.”
“What do I do about that though? Retire? Because if it comes down to it-”
“No, no, no. You will retire when you are ready to, and that is surely not now. She is just hormonal and extremely emotional. Let me talk to her, I am sure she just misses her dad. You are her most favorite person, you know that right?” he nodded in response, “I would almost be jealous if we didn’t have a 6 year old who told me earlier today that I am the coolest person in the world, and that I was pretty enough to be a princess.” She joked.
“She takes after me, idolizes you in every way.”
“Yeah, yeah, Mr. Smooth Talker. Let me go talk to Lila.” With a chaste kiss to the lips, she walked away in hope of reconciling this whole fight.  
Luckily, Lila’s door was unlocked. But she was blasting music so hard that she didn’t hear her mother come in until she screamed when she felt someone touch her back.
“Relaxe, honey, it's just me.” Her mother said, turning down the music.
It was silent as she awaited her daughter’s response. Both women at a standoff, seeing who would crack first. Luckily for them it didn’t last too long as it was Lila who lost. She burst into tears, quickly muttering apology after apology at her mother. 
“Sweetheart, it is okay. I was hurt by what you said but I was a teenager once too. I said some pretty mean things to my mom. I understand that it sometimes comes with the territory.”
“Did you say mean things to your dad too?” Lila asked, hiccuping from the sobs.
“No, but I didn’t have as nice of a father as you do. I was more scared of him. You on the other hand have the most wonderful father, and you said some nasty things to him tonight.”
“He already is disappointed I didn’t take after him and start racing. He probably regrets having a girl.” Lila sobbed, breaking her mother’s heart. Those things couldn’t be farther from the truth. 
“Honey, you know how excited your father was when I told him I was pregnant with you? It was far too early to know if you were a boy or a girl, but Charles was convinced he would have a daughter first. There was never a single moment that he wasn’t absolutely thrilled to be a girl dad. It didn’t matter if you were ever a boy or a girl though, he never for a single moment cared if his kids would follow in his footsteps. He has lost too many loved ones to this sport, he was honestly a little relieved when you said you didn’t want to go karting. But he always hoped you would support him. He just wants you guys to be proud of him.”
Lila once again burst into tears at this revelation, thinking herself a terrible daughter for not being supportive. “He must hate me now. I- I have been so terrible to him.”
“You could never do anything to make him hate you. I think he is just upset about the things you said but he knows you don’t mean them. Go talk to him, honey. It will clear everything up I promise.” Lila’s mom said as she rubbed her daughter’s back.
After a long hug, the 16 year old Leclerc went to the living room where she saw her father watching a kids tv show with her younger sister who was happily demolishing a bag of candy. Once Charles noticed his daughter’s arrival, and that Lila clearly wanted to say something to him but was hesitant, he sent the 6 year old off to go find her Maman. As he looked back at Lila, her tear stained face and puffy eyes broke his heart, even if he was still upset at her. 
Before he could say anything, she rushed into his arms, sobbing out an “I’m sorry Papa! I didn’t mean what I said, I promise. I love you and love watching you race, I just miss you so much!”
Giving her a few seconds to collect herself, he kissed her forehead, tears threatening to fall as he replied. “Lila, I know you didn’t mean those things. It breaks my heart to be gone as much as I am. I love you so much, honey. I am sorry for yelling.”
Pulling away, she smiled at the revelation that she wasn’t in trouble with her dad. “I apologized to Maman too. She told me to talk to you. I am sorry I have been so mean to her while you have been gone.”
“I know. She is always good at getting us back in line, huh? You are still grounded for what you said though.” She laughed at that. Maybe it was a little too naive to think she would be in the clear now and punishment free. “Maybe though, you can come to the next race? Just me and you? I can try to convince your Mama to let you miss a few days of school.”
“Yes! I would love that. But only if I can visit Uncle Pierre at Alpine.” She demanded, giggling with excitement.
“If you step foot in any garage that isn’t Ferrari, you will be grounded for two more weeks” Charles joked… kind of. Maybe he would only ground her one week for that. 
This was far from the last fight they had, but they eventually got out of this hormonal funk Lila had all been in. They had to look ahead though because they still had another daughter to deal with once she became a teenager. 
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moonstruckme · 12 hours
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haiii can we get more doctor!remus x whimsical!reader? maybe reader uses crystals and healing music to help remus when he's feeling sad/mentally blocked? no worries if you don't want to, love the way you write them teehee :3
Thanks for requesting babe!
doctor!Remus x whimsical!reader ♡ 870 words
Remus supposes it’s the thought that counts. 
He’d come home from work today complaining of a long day and a dismal mood and expecting, perhaps, a kiss and cuddle from you to make him feel better. Instead you’d laid him down on the couch and started placing eclectically-shaped and oddly colorful rocks on his forehead, throat, and torso, and now you’re playing music that sounds like some shit even James wouldn’t be caught listening to. 
There’s a muffled noise in the kitchen. Remus cracks an eyelid. Another, and he’s sitting up, catching the stones as they fall from him. You’re kneeling on the counter, reaching for something in the back of the cabinet. 
“Oi,” Remus starts to stand, but you turn to face him and hop down without even the decency to look a little abashed. 
“Remus.” Your voice is about as stern as a kitten’s purr, but he can tell you’re meant to be remonstrating him as you walk over, pushing him back down by the shoulder. You take the rocks from his hand and start arranging them as they were. “You’re meant to be relaxing.” 
“You’re meant to ask me when you need something you can’t reach,” he counters. The stone you set on his throat wobbles as he speaks. 
Your eyebrows twitch slightly, as close to a frown as you ever get. “If you get up, you’ll disrupt the healing process.” You place the last rock on his forehead with deliberate care. Remus’ heart thaws some. 
“Oh, well. I didn’t mean to disrupt the healing process.” 
You smile, seraphim. “You’re being terribly corporeal again.”
“Can you blame me?” He cracks one eyelid to look at you, flirting a bit. “My entire career is based on the corporeal. I’d be out of a job if I started focusing on things unrelated to science.” 
You shrug. “There’s no science that says they don’t help, and in my experience they do.” 
“The rocks?” 
“The crystals, yes.” 
Remus hums and turns his palm up. You set your hand in his, smile softening as he starts running his thumb over the delicate skin of your inner wrist. “Tell me what they do, pretty girl.” 
Your eyes are busy watching the movement of his thumb, but they flit back up to his at the request. “You really want to know?” you ask. 
“I really want to know.” 
You situate yourself more comfortably next to his legs on the couch, reaching over to touch the stone on his heart. “This one’s for confidence and calm, and this one—” you touch the one on his throat, careful not to displace it “—is meant to balance your spirit and cleanse your subconscious.” 
“Mm. And what does cleansing my subconscious entail?” 
“It helps you let go of any preconceived beliefs that may be limiting you.”  
“What if I happen to like my preconceived beliefs?” 
“Too bad.” 
That startles a laugh out of him, and you smile as your fingers brush his neck, ensuring the stone doesn’t fall. 
“Alright, what’s the last one do?” 
“It gives you inner strength and motivation,” you say, quiet and certain. “I imagine you’ll need it for the rest of the week, seeing as it’s only Monday.” 
Remus has no argument for that. He probably will need it.
“Is the music helping?” you ask. 
He hesitates. “It sort of feels like I’m meant to be dancing with faeries in some secluded forest. Is that what it’s supposed to do?” 
You turn so he can’t see your face, but your smile is in your voice. “That’s not inaccurate, but I can change it if you like.” 
“That might be best. Thanks, dove.” 
“Course,” you whisper, and then the music cuts out, replaced by the trinkling sounds of water. Rain sounds. Some tightly wound muscle in Remus’ head relaxes. 
“Thanks,” he says again, quieter now. The room feels suddenly like a sanctuary he doesn’t wish to disrupt. Either those rocks of yours are actually doing something, or you’re just emanating enough love to heal him all on its own. 
When you speak, it’s in an equally soft voice. “I’m going to get on the counter again,” you warn, “and I don’t want you to come after me, please.” 
Remus sighs his acquiescence. “Be careful.” 
“I will,” you promise. 
He hears the quiet thudding of your knees hitting the counter and opens his eyes, watching as much as he can in his periphery as you root around in the cabinet. Something crinkles just before you hop down. 
“What did you need in there so badly?” he asks curiously. 
You smile, proud of yourself, and hold up a chocolate bar. “This. It makes your brain release the nice hormones, right? I can’t remember the science-y names.” 
“Serotonin, dopamine, and endorphins,” he confirms as you come over. You start peeling open the wrapper. “I thought you didn’t believe in the corporeal, though.” 
You roll your eyes like he’s silly. “Of course I do. The spiritual and corporeal can go together, you know. We can use both.” 
You break off a piece of chocolate and hold it out for him, but Remus bypasses it to take your hand, bringing it to his lips. “Dove, you make some excellent points.”
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Winter's King 9
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)
Characters: Geralt of Rivia
Note: I can't explain why but damn I'm so tiredddd.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
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As you approach the capital, you can’t help but poke your head up to admire the domes of the great castle and the high towers. The gates stand open as the party advances, in wait of their new liege and lord. You shield your eyes against the sun as you gaze at the silhouette of the mighty architecture. 
“May as well get a good gander,” Bryce says, “doubt the kitchens are any more glorious than the ones you know.” 
“Mm,” you retract your gaze and sigh, “suppose. But they will still be new to me.” 
“Not all that is new is wondrous,” he girds. “For as much as I’ve seen in this world, it is the familiar that keeps me sane.” 
You nod and let the cart rock you. Ahead of you, the horses tread over rocks and dirt, wagons bounce and creak, and some servants walk afoot to ease the cramps in their legs. You lean lazily on a chest and fold your hands in your lap. It will at least be nice to stay beneath a proper roof again. 
The streets of the city are crowded with faces. They do not holler for you but you can hear the raucous uproar ahead as the king and queen ride between the citizens. There are even more black and grey soldiers stationed along the roads, awaiting your arrival. 
As you wind up to the royal castle, the noise grows tantamount. At the walls of the grand structure, clusters of people threaten to crush the party between their writhing bodies. It takes some time after the king’s entrance for the luggage to make way into the courtyard. 
The carts depart around the back of the castle as the horses make way for the stables. You climb out as Bryce lurks around, dismounting Daisy with a grunt as he rubs his lower back. You glance over at him as the other servants quickly fall into work. 
“Maid,” he calls to you before you can follow suit, “no doubt the queen will need to wash away the road before she faces the hordes.” 
He beckons you forth with his gauntlet and you diligently near him. He hands off Daisy to a castle servant and carries on inside. You scurry beside him as he stops and gauges his surroundings. He is not versed with the corridors but he presses on unimpeded. 
You turn back a few times before you reach the great hall. It is crowded and chaotic. The soldier strides through without pause. You nearly grab onto him just to keep from being lost in the stirring of soldiers and servants, and the tittering lords and ladies in their colourful garb. 
Up the stairs and a few questions grunted to his comrades, Bryce takes you down to a set of chambers with yet another soldier before it. You’re let inside without question. You find Queen Jazlene before a steaming basin as another servant cleans her face. 
The queen scrunches up her nose and swats the lady servant, the maid still in the former king’s colours; burnt autumn orange and goldenrod yellow. 
“Watch my eyes, you moron,” Jazlene chides and jabs her nail into the maid’s ribs. 
“My lady, I didn’t mean--” 
“I am a queen, not a lady,” Jazlene hisses, “be gone before I have your teeth knocked out of that stupid mouth of yours.” 
The other maid wrings the cloth and steps back on her heel, chewing on an apology before she spins to flee. As she nears the door, she notices you and gives a panicked look. You reach to take the cloth from her before you go to the queen. 
“Your highness,” you greet her and dip the cloth back in the steaming water. “Would you like me to put ribbons in your hair?” 
“Mm, I suppose,” she tilts her face up and closes her eyes, “once the dirt is gone. By gods, I hate traveling.” 
You gently wipe along her hairline and trace the outline of her face. You delicately but intently clean away the errant dust and streaks. You drape the cloth over the brim of the basin and turn to the table. 
“And would you like your lips painted?” You intone. “Your highness, I do think your natural tones are beautiful.” 
As you peek back at her, her eyes open and she stares at you. Her nostrils compress as she inhales. She puts her head straight and looks at her reflection. 
“Do you think so?” She touches her cheeks. 
“Yes, I do, if you line your eyes, they might appear bigger but they are so lovely and dark already,” you compliment. 
She hums and tilts her head, turning her attention back on you, “it’s you.” 
You lower your head, “your highness?” 
“You’re always flitting around like some bird,” she sniffs, “suppose you are not so... agitating as the other. Yes, ribbons and some kohl. Then I will have one of the former queen’s gowns. They have delivered her wardrobe to me.” 
“Yes, your highness,” you say and go to work. 
You settle into your usual lull. The queen sips from her goblet as you twine ribbons with her curls, a halo around the crown of her head as coiling strands hang down to her back. She looks even more immaculate than you’ve seen her before. 
She calls for a dress and you bring her several options from those strewn across the large bed. She chooses the lavender and you help her into the light silk. You relace it to account for her lither figure, the former queen having some extra years in her hips. 
When she is dressed, she twirls before the mirror. She stops and sets her chin straight and glares at herself. She arches a brow coyly. 
“I cannot wait to see Lady Florence,” she scoffs, “she will choke when she realises I am her queen.” 
You linger by the wall, blending into the tapestry as she sighs and eyes the glass affectionately. She primps herself and spins again. 
“Well then, I must be overdue,” she goes to the door, “I must go to the king and show him I can be his queen.” 
You open the door for her and follow her out. The soldiers outside glance at her but do not move or speak. Bryce comes up beside you as you trail after Jazlene. She struts to the end of the corridor and is stopped by another guard at another door. 
“Do not think to stop me,” she spits, “I am the queen,” she flicks her fingers in his direction, “don’t be absurd.” 
The man lets her through as she tugs on the latch and his dull eyes stare past her. She hardly has the effect she thinks. People do not admire her so much as they tolerate her. 
She sweeps into the chamber as you wait outside. Bryce lets out a gritty breath and taps his fingers on his sword pommel. He chews more of the sweet leaves he loves so much. Jazlene emerges with a doe-like look. 
“Where is the king?” She exclaims. 
“He has gone to address the people,” the guard picks at his teeth. “He tired of waiting--” 
“Do not tell me about the king,” Jazlene snaps on the soldier, “ugh, let us find my husband. How can he think to face my people without me at his side?” 
She storms onward and you can only follow. She will no doubt need wine sooner than later, though you wish she might take more water or milk instead. Bryce keeps your pace slowed as he makes little haste. 
As she descends the steps, you can hear the king’s voice. The crowd is hushed, almost hypnotised as he speaks from atop a chair. Somehow, he is both overwhelming and unassuming. Jazlene shows as she sees him. The crowd does not move out of her way as they are rapt in his words. 
“...do not come as conquerer, but as liberator,” he declares, “I am not here to suppress but to unite. Our kingdoms, forged together as one, can attain glory. Peace. Joy. Our people needn’t suffer the droughts or frost rot without relief. By coming together, we will join summer and winter in harmony,” the king holds his sword, the tip on the armrest of the wooden chair, “to you lords who stayed loyal to Waleran, I do not seek retribution. You only did your duty and served the king you put an oath to. You had no part in his violations upon myself. I am aware you could not rein in your greedy master. You will keep what is yours, as by rights, but you will swear fealty to the new crown.” 
King Geralt looks around the hall, “I have spoken to the farmers and the peasants, I have seen the beauty of your lands. I wish not to ravage it but to build it. You will not have only from me writs and declarations, you will have fields sown, you will have harvests reaped, you will have coin in flow, and you will have full bellies.” 
He raises his great sword over his head. The large weapon could be held only by two-hands in anothers grasp but he lifts it effortlessly. 
“I saw how your king tucked tail when he saw me on the field. After you good lords followed him to battle and sacrificed your men and your blood. He could not stand and fight, but many of you did, many of you not here today. I will not let their souls be spent in vain,” he pauses and his golden eyes rove around the room. He points his sword suddenly towards you but not quite, at Jazlene, “I have taken a summer wife.” He curls his fingers to gesture her to him. People swivel to see her and clear the path to the king, “a winter’s king must have a summer’s queen, if our kingdoms our to rise anew.” 
Jazlene sways before she gets her footing. She moves forward, chin high as she lets a grin break out over her face. She looks this way and that, gloating as she goes to her husband. He steps down as she approaches and he takes her hand. He helps her up on the chair herself and she seems almost confused by the act. 
“Queen Jazlene of Debray,” King Geralt proclaims, “she will return with me to the Hinterlands to see that order is kept across our realm and perhaps, the next time I look upon you all, I will have an heir to present to you. A young prince to lead us into the sun ahead.” 
He raises Jazlene’s hand as she fawns. The crowd breaks out in racket, voices swelling to the rooves as you’re jostled against Bryce. The lords and ladies, servants and soldiers, throw up fists and hoot and holler. 
The king brings his sword up again, silence falling at the gleam of its silver blade, “but first, a feast!” 
The fervour is even louder as the hall explodes in glee. You hear it ripple out the doors into the crowd without and like an ocean, the tides carry through the courtyard and front gates, streaming into the city. Peace has come and old grudges cannot take the shine from the gift of a king’s mercy. 
⚔️
“Your highness, we heard of what happened on Stag’s River,” an earl, you think he said his name was Kelvan, “it was a brave stand. Admirable, even standing upon the other ridge.” 
“You were there?” King Geralt muses, “mm, how fortunate our paths did not cross.” 
“Indeed, your highness,” the earl agrees, “I must admit, I dreaded it.” 
“But here we are, alive, together, as allies. It is all I ever wanted.” 
“And we knew it. We knew it, my liege, for when you let our men march back at all, we saw your grace,” Kelvan smiles. 
“Yes, but I have only ever admired your lands, never had I wanted to ruin them,” the king assures as he looks over at his wife. 
“He is a brave and good king,” Queen Jazlene praises as she puts her hand over the king’s. 
Lord Kelvan’s lips ripple, “mm, yes, I have not seen your father yet. If I shan’t happen upon the Duke, you will send my regards.” 
There’s an edge that makes you uneasy. You see how Jazlene bobs her head, “so I shall.” 
She doesn’t seem to notice the tick of resent in the earl’s cheek. How odd it is that they are so fond of the invader and yet their own kith and kin, they cannot help but revile. You’ve heard the whispers swirling already. It was not King Geralt who betrayed these people but this snakish woman and her blood. 
“Wine, girl, now,” Jazlene snaps as the early departs back to his seat. 
You stand against the wall, just behind the bench she shares with the king. You come forward with the jug reserved only for her, nearing between the shoulders of the royal couple. Before you can put the spout to brim, King Geralt’s hand catches the swollen belly of the ewer. 
“Perhaps you might have some more lamb before you indulge further, wife,” he girds. 
“It is a feast,” she slurs, “I am only celebrating. With you,” she touches his sleeve, “my king.” 
“I see that,” his voice is low but firm, “yet you are a queen and your subjects are watching.” 
“I can stomach my wine,” she sneers. 
He huffs and wraps his hand around the bottom of the handle, just below your grip. He wiggles it away from you and sets it on the other side of his plate. Jazlene lets out a childish gasp. 
“It is just wine,” she snivels. 
King Geralt runs his fingers along his collar, “we are having a good night,” he says as he peers out on the crowd, “please, let us not make a scene.” 
“I am not making a scene. I am the queen and I want more wine,” she insists. 
He faces forward completely. You stay as you are, trapped in their indecision. He blocks the jug with his elbow and she claps her hands on her lap and kicks her feet.  
“Perhaps you should have some of that wine,” she mutters, “it might make you kinder.” 
The king doesn’t reply and instead greets another lord; one who introduces himself as the Count of Bress. As they speak, Jazlene leans back on the bench and tugs your skirt. You look down at her. 
“Find more wine,” she growls, “and don’t be obvious about it.” 
“Your highness, but the king--” 
“I am your master, not him,” she snarls and nudges you harshly, “be away before I lose my patience.” 
You dip your head and notice how the king’s head turns towards his wife. You don’t look back as you critter off quickly into the shadows. You might be better to take your time and tell her you could not abscond any more wine. If you wait long enough, it might even slip her mind, as so often her desires fade into the next. 
149 notes · View notes
nahoney22 · 2 days
Note
Hey bestie! I love your work and as I've gotten to know you better, you've been an amazing friend ❤️
I was wondering if you could do some hurt/comfort/whump with f!reader x Tech! Maybe they have crash landed or been captured together or something. Perhaps they don't necessarily get along with each other but this situation forces them to work together and they discover that maybe the other isn't so bad. ❤️ Thanks!
Crash Landed 🌊
🫧 Pairing: Tech X Female Reader
word count: 5.9k
Prompts: none
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Summary: After you and Tech crash land in a remote Jungle, the two of you need to put your heads together and work as a team. Which is sometimes easier said than done.
warnings: Hurt, Angst and Comfort Whump Trope, Mentions of Injury to Reader and Tech, reader has a fear of blood, Kinda Enemies to Lovers, Reconciliation, Talks about Feelings, Huddling for Warmth, Heated First Kiss, Female Reader. Not proofread.
authors note: I love this idea! I hope I did it justice. And by the word count, clearly I enjoyed writing it. Thanks for being and amazing friend @arctrooper69 🩶
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You awaken, dazed and confused, your head heavy as your eyes adjust to the dim, smoke-filled surroundings. What's that smell? Is that... smoke? What happened?
Your body aches with every movement as you manage to sit up with a hefty groan, feeling the weight of gravity pull at your limbs. Rubbing your eyes with your hands to focus, you realise that everything is on its side, the walls of the shuttle caved in, sparks flying from broken control panels. What a mess. But, you're sure you were not alone before this happened.
“Tech?” you call out, your voice croaky before you start coughing, as if your lungs had filled up with smoke.
No reply. “Please don’t be dead, please don’t be dead,” you mutter to yourself as panic sets in, the memories flooding back. The mission, the Imperial's, crashing. Yes, that’s it. You crash-landed. But where? And where was Tech?
Luckily, your thoughts are answered as a torch shines in the distance, followed by loud clattering as if objects were being moved. You squint through the smoke, trying to ignore the acrid scent of burning metal. “Ah, there you are,” Tech says as he comes into view, his armor scratched, and his goggles a little skewed on his head.
“What happened?” you ask as he approaches you, another spluttering cough escaping your lips.
“If you take a look around, it will become apparent that we have crashed,” he replies. Ah yes, still a pain in the neck even after both of you nearly died.
You and Tech had rarely seen eye to eye. Since you joined the squad months ago, he always seemed to be on top of you, trying to prove you wrong or point out mistakes. It was tiresome. And now, unfortunately, you were stuck with him.
Rolling your eyes, you were in no mood for his tone and began to stand. However, as soon as you did, your leg gave way, your knees slamming to the floor. A cry of pain escaped you, making Tech look up from his cracked datapad, his eyes widening with slight concern. “Are you injured?”
“Obviously,” you grumbled in reply, stretching out your legs to assess the damage, but you didn’t see anything at first. It wasn’t until Tech crouched down in front of you that he spotted it.
“You have a laceration on your calf,” he said, his voice calm but concerned, inspecting the wound closely, and you did a double-take at his words.
“W-What? Is it bad?” You tried to hide the panic in your voice, but if there’s one thing you hated, it was blood.
Tech didn’t reply straight away, his eyes inspecting the wound closely, but your nerves began to eat away at you. “Tech, is it bleeding?” You asked quickly, your chest heaving as the fear started to creep in.
“Yes,” he confirmed, not making eye contact with you before he stood again, “I shall look for a medkit among this rubble. Stay here.” Well, it’s not like you had anywhere to go anytime soon anyway.
You wanted to call out to him, you wanted him to stay with you, but that would be inviting him to babysit you. Just because you were scared didn’t mean you wanted Tech to take care of you, which he probably would not do anyway.
Luckily, he wasn’t gone long and returned with a battered medkit. Some vials were smashed inside, and some tools were of no use, but you were glad that the bandages were untarnished. You had to look away as he started to dress your leg, cutting away the loose fabric to your pants before he skillfully wrapped it up. “That should do for now. Can you stand? We need to get out of here as it wouldn't surprise me if this shuttle imploded at any minute.”
Comfort was not his strong suit, clearly.
“I’ll try,” you began to haul yourself up your feet, but again, you were too weak. “No, no, no, I can’t.” As you were about to fall once again, Tech tucked himself under your arm, a hand steady on your waist as he kept you up.
“I will have to carry you.”
“No!” You squeaked. No way in hell were you going to let him carry you around. No way you wanted to appear more of a burden than you already are.
He raised an eyebrow, unmoved by your objection. “This is not open to debate. You can not put weight on your leg.”
With a frustrated sigh, you relented. “Alright, fine.”
With a wince of pain shooting up your leg, Tech manages to slip his arm around your neck, hoisting you over his shoulder with little effort. Each step he makes sends a jolt of unbearable pain through your leg, but you grit your teeth, holding back any sign of distress, more focused on figuring out how the two of you will get out of this mess.
You escape the shuttle, and the scorching sun immediately washes over you, its heat oppressive and suffocating. The air is humid and sticky. Great.
"So, where are we?" you ask awkwardly, still draped over his shoulder as he trudges onward.
"Uncertain," he replies, which does nothing to ease your nerves.
After a few minutes of walking, he finally sets you down on some dry grass. The sun beats down, forcing you to shield your eyes with your hand as you survey your surroundings. From the looks of it, you’re stranded in a jungle, with a vast expanse of open water stretching out before you. You could be literally anywhere.
“I suggest we find shelter, food, and a water source promptly. Since you are in no state to do anything, this task falls upon me,” he says, not once meeting your gaze as he speaks.
"Are you trying to blame me for hurting my leg? If I'm not mistaken, Tech, you were the one who pushed us into that shuttle," you retort, anger bubbling over.
"I am not blaming you, although if it was not for your mistake on the mission I would not have had to intervene." He trails off, not seeming to care at the dirty looks being sent his way. "I am merely stating facts." He says simply, tucking his datapad into his pouch before glancing down at you.
Deciding to keep your mouth shut for now, you refrain from arguing, knowing it won’t solve anything. Instead, you let Tech take the lead because, as much as you hate to admit it, he's right. You are in no state to do anything at the moment.
Tech leaves you alone for a while, giving you one of his blasters as a precaution before returning around half an hour later, announcing he found a suitable place to set up camp. You simply nod before glancing over at the crashed shuttle. “Is there anything we can salvage from that at least?” you ask aloud, drawing Tech’s attention back to you before casting a glance over at the debris.
“Perhaps. But we will have to be quick-." Before he can finish his thoughts, a sudden explosion rips through the air as the shuttle suddenly erupts into a burst of flames, sending debris flying in all directions. You both watch in shock as the flames engulf the wreckage, leaving nothing salvageable. Never mind.
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Once Tech had led you to a secluded spot under the protective canopy of towering trees. With careful movements, you managed to shift your weight onto your knees, the pain radiating from your leg causing you to bite back a wings of pain.
“You are doing it wrong.” As you went ahead and started to make a fire, Tech’s unsolicited advice on fire-building techniques went in one ear and out the other. Survival instincts was one of your specialties after all and so you ignored him as as you gathered dry twigs and leaves, arranging them meticulously into a makeshift pyre.
As Tech continued his lecture on the ‘correct way’ to build a fire, you struck the flint, the spark igniting a blaze that danced and crackled life. A triumphant smirk tugged at the corners of your lips as Tech fell silent, the warmth of the flames casting flickering shadows on the thick backdrop of the jungle.
“As you have accomplished the fire, all we need now is some edible food and water," Tech remarked and you hummed in slight agreement.
Carefully, you leaned back and against a sturdy boulder for support as you turned your attention to Tech, whose fingers deftly navigated his datapad. "Do you think you’ll be able to contact the others?" you inquired softly, wanting to hear good news right now.
Tech's brow furrowed in concentration as he tinkered with the device, the soft glow of the cracked screen illuminating his features in the darkness. "If I can get my device to work properly and salvage the shuttle… then possibly. But…" His voice trailed off, uncertainty lingering in the air.
"You have doubts?" you pressed, concerned lacing your words as you watched him shift uneasily in his spot.
“Yes,” he says as he stands, tucking his datapad away again, “I have my doubts.”
You both fall into silence, something quite rare from Tech as he was always chattering away about something. But for now, he was quiet. Deep in thought. A part of you wished you knew what he was thinking, wondering what was happening in that marvelous mind of his and if he had thought about what would happen if you two were never found which was a reoccurring thought in yours.
“I will be back soon,” he speaks up, breaking the silence after a few minutes.
“Where are you going?” You ask, a little too quickly. But truthfully, you didn’t want to be on your own right now. Yet you didn’t want him to know that.
He watches you almost tentatively before saying, “I need to gather provisions. I will not be long.”
You didn’t protest as you watched him walk away, disappearing through the trees as nightfall approached. Sighing softly to yourself, you sat lost in thought, the flickering flames casting shifting shadows across your face as you think back to all the things you should have done on that mission. Perhaps if you didn’t let your pride get the better of you, you wouldn’t have to sit wondering when Tech will return and if either of you will make it out of here.
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You don’t even remember falling asleep last night but you do remember waking up to the chill that had kept you shivering throughout the night despite sleeping by the crackling fire.
As you awaken to the gentle warmth of the morning sun filtering through the dense foliage above, a stark contrast to last night, with a heavy sigh, you sit up. You groan as your body feels more fatigued and worn out than before. Nausea washes over you as you groggily inspect your leg, the sight of the dried and bloodied bandage from the previous day making your stomach churn. Obviously, you'll need to tend to it again.
“Will you need my assistance or are you capable of tending to your own wound today?” Tech's voice cuts through the quiet morning air, his tone as matter-of-fact as ever. It's always hard to discern whether he's being genuinely helpful or simply blunt.
Deciding to handle this task yourself this time, you nod, expressing your intention to manage it alone. And even though you wanted to do it alone, Tech approaches nonetheless, the battered med kit in hand.
With Tech standing by, you cautiously remove the old bandage, your stomach turning at the sight of the open wound. Despite the lack of fresh blood, the dried remnants are enough to make you feel queasy. "You do not like blood," Tech observes, his statement pulling your attention away from the gruesome sight.
"Hm, how could you tell?" you mutter sarcastically, attempting to deflect from the discomfort.
“I have always known,” Tech responds cryptically, his expression giving nothing away as he crouches down beside you.
Curiosity piqued, you inquired further, wondering how he could have possibly known your hatred for blood. After all, you couldn't recall ever mentioning it to him before. “I… have observed your behaviour before and just so happened to pick up on it. I also recall you mentioning it to Hunter when you first joined.”
Hm, that’s… surprising.
You say nothing of it and instead allow him to take care of you. As Tech takes over, gently raising your leg and propping it over his knee, you can't help but notice the care he takes.
Despite his typically relaxed demeanor, there's a hint of concern in his actions as he tells you that you ‘may want to avert your gaze’ as he begins to peel the old bandage away.
Happily, you turn your attention to the leaves above, trying to ignore the stinging sensation spreading through your leg and the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. Though, the warm breeze brushes against your exposed skin, offering a slight comfort amidst the discomfort.
“H-How does it look?” you ask, your voice strained, the anxiety evident in your tone as you feel Tech's careful movements.
“It appears that you have an infection. And I do not have the right resources to treat it.” Your heart sinks at his words, a sense of dread settling in the pit of your stomach as you try to suppress the rising panic.
“Great.”
“I will assume that is sarcasm,” he hums before passing you his canteen, “I found a water source last night. This has been purified and suitable to drink. I suggest you do that.”
Taking the canteen from his grasp, your mouth suddenly feels dry at the thought of water. You take a sip and can’t help but grimace at the taste, the bitterness lingering on your tongue. “Are you sure it’s been purified?”
“Yes, I did not say it will taste nice.”
You roll your eyes and take another remorseful sip before passing it back to him, your mind inadvertently drifting to the state of your leg. It looked worse than you anticipated.
“Shit.” You curse under your breath as you blink away the tears, the frustration and fear bubbling to the surface. Of course, your leg would get infected. Why would a crash-landing be a stroll in the park?
“I agree with your sentiments.” Tech's voice is steady as he carefully applies a new bandage, his movements precise and calculated. “I suggest you rest.”
“No,” you shake your head adamantly, meeting his gaze with determination, “I’m not going to sit here and do nothing. I have to do something.”
He blinks at you, frowning behind his goggles. “You are in no state to do anything. You are injured and so-.”
“So I’m a hindrance?” You challenge, the frustration evident in your tone as you refuse to back down.
“In a way, yes.” He says directly, the weight of his words hanging in the air as he stands up straight after carefully placing your leg down. “Any further injury could lead to loss of limb. Or worse. We cannot risk getting that leg infected even more. Do you not think you have caused enough grievance?”
Anger bubbles at his words, yet, a part of you knew he was right. You were both in this mess because of you but sitting on the forest floor doing nothing felt like a last resort. “Can you at least just help me stand up?” you grumble, your voice tinged with frustration. “Please?”
He hesitates, seemingly torn between his concern for your well-being and his reluctance to encourage any further strain on your injured leg. However, the dejected look on your face softens his resolve, knowing that he wouldn’t hear the end of it until he complies. Reluctantly, he extends his hand, offering you the support you need to rise to your feet.
Carefully, you put slight pressure on your leg, testing its strength. Surprisingly, it isn’t as painful as it was yesterday, giving you a glimmer of hope that you might be able to move around by limping or hopping for now—especially when Tech isn’t looking.
“Thanks,” you say stiffly, folding your arms over your chest, a mix of gratitude and stubbornness in your demeanor as you watch him pick something out of his pouch and hand it over to you. “What’s this?”
He presents you with a strange-looking leaf, its unfamiliar shape and texture raising your curiosity. “It is food. Edible. It is all I could find last night but will fill us with enough nutrients for now.”
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The rest of the day didn’t unfold as smoothly as you both had hoped. While Tech ventured back to the shuttle in a bid to secure a signal to reach the others, you took it upon yourself to be productive. Somehow.
With the terrain familiar to you from extensive research in your past, thoughts of herbal remedies for injuries like the one on your leg flooded your mind. So, after crafting a makeshift walking stick from a discarded branch sturdy enough to support your weight, you set off from camp, determined to gather the necessary ingredients.
Luck seemed to be on your side as you found the correct herbs and plants without much difficulty. However, your return to camp was met with an annoyed-looking Tech, his frustration evident as he started an argument for your sudden departure and for not telling him where you were since comms were dead too; coupled with his ongoing concerns about your leg.
Insisting that you were fine, you proceeded to apply the herbal remedy to your wound, wrapping it back up and allowing nature to take its course. Though Tech couldn’t help but offer snide remarks whenever you winced at the slightest movement, your remedy proved effective in easing the discomfort for a while.
Meanwhile, Tech’s attempts to establish a signal to the others had proved fruitless, only adding to his growing frustration. He was normally very composed under pressure, but his visible agitation was somewhat unsettling, leaving you feeling both concerned and also quite upset to see him this way.
As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the camp, the atmosphere between you two remained tense. While you rested against the boulder again, Tech sat with his head in his hands, visibly weighed down by the day's events.
An uncharacteristic urge to ease his burden prompted you to speak up. “Why don’t you sleep? Try again tomorrow,” you suggest, breaking the silence and drawing his gaze across the flickering flames of the fire pit.
“One of us needs to stay awake and take watch,” he insists, decided on his decision straight away.
You frown, realising that you slept through most of the previous night, which meant… “Tech, did you not sleep last night?” you ask, your concern evident in your tone.
“No.” He mutters, “Like I said, one of us needs to stay awake.”
Squinting at him, a hint of annoyance creeps into your voice. “That’s not healthy, especially when we’re stuck like this. You need to sleep or something.”
“I am used to not getting sleep on the Marauder so I do not see why this is any different,” he counters, his stance firm.
Though grateful for his commitment to keeping watch, you can’t help but feel exasperated by his stubbornness. Rolling your eyes, you wrap your arms around yourself as a chill sets in. “To be fair,” you begin, “I kept waking up last night. It was way too cold.”
“Yes, I noticed,” he responds, his tone softened slightly by the acknowledgement.
“Oh,” you say softly before closing your eyes, allowing the weariness of the day to wash over you. However, you’re abruptly jolted from the verge of sleep by the sound of movement nearby. With a start, you almost jump out of your skin as Tech stands in front of you.
“Stars Tech!” You gasp, his sudden proximity shocking you. “What?”
“I want you to go to sleep.”
You blink at him.
“Okay…?”
“So,” you watch him shift, his movements awkward, “I will let you sleep beside me.”
It takes you a moment to comprehend his meaning before you pull a strange face, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion and slight amusement. “Are you asking me to cuddle you?” The thought surprises you, but oddly enough, it doesn’t sound too bad right about now.
“I would not put it so conveniently,” he says, his tone betraying a hint of discomfort, “I am merely stating that I could use my body warmth to help you sleep.”
You’re taken aback by his offer, but exhaustion soon overwhelms any reservations you may have had. “Oh… well, if you’re okay with that?”
“I would not have offered otherwise.” Tech’s smile is small but genuine, and you can’t help but softly smile back as you both sit beside one another, gazing into the flames of the fire pit. Soon, you find your eyes trailing down to his bare hands, frowning as you notice they look quite sweaty; an odd sight considering the cool evening air.
Curiosity gets the better of you, and you gaze up at his face, finding him engrossed in fixing his datapad. But something seems off—his complexion appears clammy, and there’s a flush to his cheeks.
Instinctively, you reach out and place the back of your hand to his forehead, gasping at the unexpected heat radiating from his skin. “Tech!” You squeak, startling him. “You have a fever? Why didn’t you tell me?”
He doesn’t even look at you, giving off a look like a character who had been bitten by something in those horrible horror holomovies and pretends to hide the bite. “Tech,” you say his name again, more sternly. “Are you hurt?”
He sighs, dropping his device into his lap before he lifts his arm to you, showing a bandage of his own that is stained in dry blood. “As I was maneuvering through the shuttle, I just so happened to trip and catch my arm on some jagged metal. It is nothing to fret about.”
“Oh, come off it, you’re burning up.” Tech notices the slight worry in your tone, watching you lean to your other side as you produce the herbal paste you used on yourself earlier. “Let me put this on.”
“Rest and water will do me fine-.”
“That’s funny, seeing as you just told me you’d rather me sleep than yourself.” You say with a roll of your eyes, taking a firm yet gentle hold of his arm before you start to peel the bandage away, holding down your nausea just for him.
Tech watches you with a concerned gaze. “I must insist…” he trails off as his eyes move to the sticky paste, clearly uncertain about your own remedy.
“Don’t you trust me?” You ask, and time seems to freeze as you both lock eyes, speaking silently to one another. His gaze is strong and, albeit, quite hypnotising behind his yellow-tinted goggles. But, you seem to snap out of your gaze as he replies:
“I do.”
“Well,” you say, clearing your throat as you drop your gaze to his arm, “let me help you.”
You’re gentle with your movements, applying the remedy over his arm with precision. You could feel his stare on your face, and so you slowly looked back up at him, his face so near you could almost feel the warmth of his breath dancing on your skin. “See? That should help with the pain,” you find yourself whispering.
For once, the two of you didn’t seem to be at each other's necks, both of you seeming to try and read each other’s thoughts. Tech was not the best at reading feelings, and as you gaze into his eyes, you find yourself not being able to read his too.
Eventually, you look away. An unusual heat started to crawl up your neck, and you didn’t think it was from the flame from the fire or his ‘body warmth’ as he put it. Lack of sleep and lack of food and water. That had to be it.
“Are you sure you don’t want to sleep, Tech?” You ask again as the drowsiness from before seeps back, and Tech turns his head away from you, inspecting his arm quietly before picking up his datapad once more.
“I am sure.”
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The next day unfolded much like the one before it.
Tech grumbled about your mobility, his attempts to fix up the shuttle yielding no results, and the air between you both grew heavy with unspoken tension.
Yet, as nightfall descended once again, you found yourself nestled beside Tech, his warmth offering a rare respite, allowing you to drift into a peaceful sleep. And miraculously, your homemade remedy seemed to work wonders on both of you. You could now move with a bit more ease, and the infections on your injuries had cleared up.
But as you stared into the dancing flames that night, a wave of sorrow washed over you.
“You were right, you know?” you whispered into the night, the warmth of the fire casting flickering shadows on your face.
“About what?” Tech responded, his eyes fixed on his datapad, the soft glow illuminating his features.
Tears welled up at the corners of your eyes, and you struggled to keep them at bay, feeling utterly helpless. “That it was my fault… with the mission. If I had just let you do the data transfer instead of insisting I could do it then…” Your voice faltered, choked by a sob that escaped your lips, startling Tech. “Then we would’ve made it out in time! A-and the others… Tech, we don’t even know if they’re alive!”
Tech stared at you wide-eyed, your sudden outburst of emotion catching him off guard. Yet, amidst your tears streaming down your face and your hands clasped over your head, he uttered your name softly, “Mistakes happen.”
“But they don’t with you, Tech!” you cried, turning to face him. “You’re always so good, so perfect at everything you do, and I… I just wanted to prove myself to you! I always feel like I am not good enough for you, and that’s why you don’t like me.”
For a moment, the crackling of the fire was the only sound between you, the flames casting a warm glow on both of your faces. Tech's expression softened as he regarded you with understanding.
“Not liking you, is not something that ever crossed my mind,” he finally said, his voice low. “You were determined, and that is a trait that is to be commended. It is true, I often find it easier to rely on myself but I am programmed that way. But you, you gave it your all, and that is commendable. Do not be so hard on yourself.”
You sniffle, feeling the weight of your emotions pressing down on you like a heavy blanket. The tears keep escaping your eyes, trailing down your cheeks as you struggle to contain your emotions. "But… because of me, you’re stuck here?"
Tech’s gaze softens, his eyes reflecting understanding. His voice carries a comforting warmth as he responds, “I am aware. But think how you would be if I were not here.”
Your mind whirls with the possibilities of what could have been, but you still feel terrible. "But we may not see the others again… we may not ever leave here." Your voice trembles with the weight of uncertainty, your heart heavy with guilt.
Tech’s gaze shifts away, his brows furrowing in contemplation as he adjusts his goggles. "We have to adapt to survive, we always have. And regarding the others, the probability of their survival is 89%. It is likely they are out there looking for us. And if I get the shuttle repaired enough to get a connection, I can send a signal and hope they pick up our coordinates.” His voice carries a note of determination.
You cling to his words like a lifeline, a glimmer of hope flickering in the depths of your despair. How could you have been so stupid? But, his words held promise but you can’t help but ask: "Promise me you’re not lying to me?"
“I have not once ever lied to you and I would not start now.” His response is steady, his words a soothing balm to your battered soul.
As your tears slowly subside, a tentative smile graces your lips. "Thanks Tech,” you murmur, your voice thick with emotion. “I bet I look a mess right now. I’m a pretty ugly cryer.”
Tech’s gaze softens, a hint of warmth in his eyes as he searches for the right words. "No, you look…” He trails off, his gaze lingering on your tear-streaked face. He reaches out, his touch feather-light as he gently brushes away a stray tear that glistens on your lashes.
“What?” you prompt, your breath catching in your throat at his unfamiliar touch as you meet his gaze.
“Like you,” he finishes, a little awkward but his words were imbued with sincerity as he offers you a small smile.
Emotion wells up inside you, a tidal wave of gratitude and affection crashing over you. Without a second thought, you lean forward, wrapping your arms around him in a tight embrace. He freezes for a moment, taken aback by the sudden intimacy, before tentatively returning the hug, his arms encircling you in a protective cocoon.
As you’re wrapped in each other's embrace, you find solace; a fleeting moment of peace.
As sleep beckons, you can’t help but nestle closer to him, finding comfort in his presence as you drift off into the realm of dreams, his steady heartbeat a lullaby.
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In the days that followed, a significant improvement became evident. Tech’s progress on the shuttle repair was slow, hampered by the absence of his proper tools. Despite the challenges, both of your injuries had begun to heal, and the atmosphere in camp had lightened considerably.
Although the water still tasted like dirt, you were no longer dehydrated. Discovering some rare fruits that proved not to be poisonous added to the uplifting spirit.
At night, neither of you seemed to mind huddling for warmth. You would lay against him, listening to the plans and stories he had, especially if you begged him to tell you. Although they were very matter-of-fact and not overly entertaining, you found the tales of the squad before you joined enjoyable. You both no longer bickered, clearing the air of past arguments, and genuinely enjoyed each other's company. Although it was not like either of you had any other options.
But that’s not the only thing that had changed. You found yourself getting nervous around Tech. A good kind of nervous. When he was working on the shuttle, you couldn’t help but sit back and admire him at work. He was attractive, sure, but you found him more than that. He listened intently to you, offering advice and tips without seeming to mansplain to you.
So that night by the fire again, sitting by his side, you weren’t so surprised about the next set of events.
“What are you going to do when we leave this place?” You ask, your body twisting to face him as you rest your elbow against the boulder, hand on the side of your head as you lean yourself up to look at him.
He smiles, noticing how you said ‘when’ and not ‘if’, highlighting your trust in him. “I will most likely do what I usually do, get ready for the next mission set for us.”
You roll your eyes. “You don’t want to celebrate?”
“Celebrate what, exactly?”
“Well,” you start with a soft laugh, “us finally putting our differences aside and not killing each other for one.” You suggest, earning a fond chuckle from the clone before continuing. “And surviving.”
He thinks for a moment, looking into the flames and then at you. “I suppose those are adequate reasons to celebrate, yes. Will the others be joining?”
“Sure,” you say with a smile but there’s a small swirl in your stomach as you say, “unless… you don’t want them to join us?”
Tech blinks, and for a second, it was like he was short-circuiting as he thinks about your proposal. Was it flirtation in your tone or had he imagined it? “I do not mind either way,” he explains, his chest slightly puffing out. “It would be nice to perhaps talk like this in a more formal setting elsewhere. Just us.”
You silently suck in a deep breath, a shy glint in your eyes. “I think I’d like that, yeah.” Your tone lowered, and you can’t help but notice that Tech had turned his body more to face you. Then, his eyes flickered to your lips as you inadvertently licked them, chapped but tinged with the sweetness of the fruit before.
You hold his gaze, slightly tilting your head as you take a gamble and look to his lips, then to his eyes. It was an invitation, and you hoped that Tech got the hint.
And he did.
Slowly, he sets his datapad to one side, finally letting it go as he focuses all of his attention on you. There’s a charge in the air, and you see him lean closer... and closer…
Your breath hitches, eyes slowly falling shut as he closes the distance, his nose brushing against yours before his lips meet your own in a soft, shy kiss. Leaning more into it, your hand finds refuge on his leg whilst one of his hands comes up and cups your cheek.
You sigh into him, heart racing as you feel him grow bolder. His lips, warm and inviting, meld with yours, igniting a spark that you both had been unknowingly kindling. His touch sends shivers down your spine as the kiss deepens, becoming more desperate, more intense. The jungle, the planet, the whole star system around you seems to fade away.
Tech utters your name against your lips, your soft moan of a response allowing his tongue into your mouth, exploring, igniting a fiery passion within you.
Gently, he lays you down by the fire, the crackling flames casting dancing shadows across his face. He pulls away for a moment, pulling his goggles off his face as he peers down at you, his eyes a dance of different emotions. “You are enchanting.”
But with a hunger that can no longer be contained, he crashes his lips back to yours, now allowing you to let your tongue meet his in a fervent dance; fingers tangling in his untamed hair meanwhile his hands roam over your body.
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The next day brought a breakthrough. Tech managed to gain contact.
Overwhelmed by joy, you ran into Tech’s arms, jumping and letting him spin you around with a chuckle as you knew both of you would soon be saved! And better yet, the others were alive and safe too.
“I can’t believe you did it! You really did it.” You grin at him as he pulls back from the hug but does not let you down, instead cradles you in his arms.
“You seem surprised.”
“Oh Tech,” you say adoringly, leaning forward and giving his lips a soft kiss, smiling as he hums against your lips.
“I will never get tired of you kissing me,” he utters, truly in awe of how this sudden turn of events had happened. It was quick, but neither of you seemed to mind.
Last night was magic. All the bad memories had faded from your mind, solely just focusing on Tech and yourself. When all hope had seemed lost, your mistake led you to one of the best choices you ever could make. And maybe, that promised date would become something more.
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Masterlist is pinned😊
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marlynnofmany · 3 days
Text
Not Special
The refueling station was on a small moon in the back end of nowhere, close to nothing but a couple of wormhole junctions. Since it had a little convenience store and everything, it really gave off “7/11 next to a desert highway” vibes. Just, y’know, in space. The moon wasn’t big enough for proper gravity or air on its own, so someone had installed a gravity generator under the dusty red ground. And turned it up just a smidge too high, but I wasn’t going to complain.
I was going to buy pre-packaged alien snacks at the store while my coworkers handed the refueling. Mimi was calling the shots, tentacles waving and gravelly voice audible from here, while the Frillian twins handled the heavy lifting of connector hoses and Captain Sunlight was at the payment kiosk. The others were either staying onboard or already browsing the aisles.
I’d just picked up a pack of something colorful (doing an artful fumble-and-recovery because of the gravity) when a rowdy group of Armorlites trooped in. I didn’t pay them too much attention — just a bunch of macho dinosaurs with holstered blasters and bipedal swagger; totally normal here — but one of them said something that brought me up short.
“Hey look, another human,” said the cheerful voice. “Maybe you can get some tips on how not to be such a disappointment.” Raucous laughter followed.
I frowned in their direction and saw that they did have a human with them: a pale and unassuming guy just a bit shorter and stockier than me. He looked annoyed by the comment, but not surprised.
When he walked over to me, I asked, “What’s that about?” The Armorlites were already ignoring him.
The guy sighed. “They heard a lot of stories about humans before they hired me, and I don’t meet their expectations.”
“What kind of stories?”
“Humans doing daring things, like running for hours to get medicine to dying people, catching a diseased rat before it infected an entire space station, throwing fruit at charging fauna hard enough to make it leave…” He ticked things off on his fingers. “Exorcizing a ghost, and riding a hoversled like a skateboard fast enough to catch a bomb before it blew up. How am I supposed to compete with that?” He threw his hands in the air.
“Um,” I said, putting down the snack I was still holding. “Would it make it better or worse to know those were all the same person?”
“What?”
“The rat wasn’t actually diseased, the ghost was a howling dog, and I didn’t know the thing was explosive when I rushed to catch it,” I said. “And I wasn’t the only person throwing things at the fauna.”
“What?” he repeated, with a spread-arms gesture that smacked into the shelf. Rubbing his hand, he asked, “That was all you?”
“Yeah,” I admitted. “Unless there are other humans doing the same things, which is possible.”
He raked fingers through his hair, setting it at odd angles. “I can’t believe this. I’d tell them, but they’d just want to hire you instead.”
I rushed to assure him, “I’ve got a job already, and I don’t want to take yours.” I glanced over at the Armorlites, who were grabbing food and accessories. One clicked a flashlight on in another’s face, prompting curses from him and laughter from the others. That tracked from what I’d seen of Armorlite culture before. Toughness was important. Kindness, not so much. “What do you do for them?”
He sighed again. “Bookkeeping, officially. They needed somebody to handle the boring stuff like money and permits while they focus on hunting the biggest animals they can sell.”
“Gotcha. That sounds … exciting.”
“It’s not. It’s like going on a trip with my cousins again, except they’re even bigger and make fun of me for not having claws.”
“You’ve got other stuff going for you, though!” I said. “We just need to figure which of your differences they’ll respect most.”
“I’m all ears,” he said with a certain level of sarcasm. “Please tell me what about my fragile human physique will get me respect from the Mighty.”
Oh right, they did call themselves that. I’d almost forgotten. At least they were a straightforward species without a lot of mysterious depths.
“Well,” I said, thinking. “They like fighting. You’re more suited to stealth than they are, small enough to hide and do sneak attacks that they wouldn’t see coming. What if you introduced them to rubber band warfare, and sniped from hidden parts of the ship?”
“Nope,” he said. “That would just end with me cornered somewhere, and them showing off how even thin scales are tougher than my skin.”
“Good point. Oh! What kind of animals do they hunt? You said big ones, but do you know the specific names?” I got out my phone and brought up the database of known fauna that I’d talked Captain Sunlight into buying for me. As her own hired animal expert, it was really the kind of thing that I should have. My vet training on Earth only went so far.
“Uhhh, I think the last one was a treehorn,” he said. “Wait, they talked about going for Argoshan Dagger Birds next.”
“Right. Now what kind of noises do those make…” I typed quickly. Big creatures indeed, by the looks of it: Dagger Birds had prevented more than one colony from getting a foothold in the wilds of a nearby world, and were unlikely to stop being a threat anytime soon. I skimmed the rundown for the vocal files. “Here we go. Mating call.” Keeping the sound low enough for just us to hear, I played the croaking warble.
“Okay?” the guy said, confused.
“Can you imitate that?” I asked. “Give it a shot. Kinda like a frog. Woarrrk.”
Looking skeptical, he did. The expression on his face said he wasn’t impressed with his own efforts, but it sounded accurate enough to me.
“Great!” I said. “Give that a bit of practice, then you can go out with your crew and impress everybody by luring in some targets for them.”
“I could,” he said thoughtfully. “I usually stay on the ship while they’re hunting, but it might be worth a try. Can I have a copy of that sound for practice?”
He got out his own phone and I played it again so he could record it. The Armorlites were dumping things onto the front counter, ready to pay and leave. I caught sight of bright packaging that I recognized, and I had another idea.
“Thanks,” the guy said. “This might actually help. What was your name?”
“Robin Bennett,” I said with a belated handshake.
“Oscar Tennyson,” he replied. “Thanks for your help. Looks like I should grab my stuff and get going.”
“Before you go. See those tall cans with the purple labels?” I pointed at something the Armorlites were buying.
“Yeah?”
“Have you ever tried that?”
“No! They get wasted on it; I’ve steered far clear.”
I grinned with all my teeth. “That’s not alcohol. That’s caffeine.”
“What?”
“Humans can process caffeine better than most species on our own planet, and just about everybody in space. It’s a poison to most. It gets them super drunk, but for you—” I pointed at him with glee. “For you, it’s just a bit of energy. Pick your moment, then walk in casually while they’re getting wasted, and slam one down. See what happens.”
He was smiling now. “You’re sure? It’s really just caffeine? How much?”
“I checked into it before. One of those huge cans is like a watered-down coffee. These guys are absolute lightweights, and they don’t even know.”
He grinned to split his face. “That is the best news.”
One of them called for him to hurry up, and he bid me a quick goodbye before scampering off. I saw him grab food cubes, water, and a six-pack of caffeine, which he bundled onto the counter as the Armorlites headed out the door.
“Be right there! Just getting some stuff!”
They didn’t look, simply telling him not to waste any time. He smiled his way through the purchase.
Peeking over the shelves, I smiled too. Then I went back to my own purchases, with thoughts of getting an energy drink or two in his honor.
~~~
These started as backstory tidbits for the main character from this book, and turned into a sprawling adventure series in their own right. The sequel book will feature a return of some familiar faces. And Patreon is coming soon — even the free tier will be a handy way to keep up with the ongoing shenanigans of this particular human in space.
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shamrockqueen · 1 day
Text
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Omega retreat : chapter 4
Pairing : Alpha Bucky x Omega reader
Warnings : R18, Eventual Smut, General Discomfort, nothing is what it seems, fluff, heart ache
Word count : 2131
Masterlist
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He was very understanding when you asked him to give you time to think about his invitation. It was the turning point you hoped to avoid just a little longer, appreciating instead that you could be just like any other normal girl. Yet, some things couldn't be left on the back burner.
The untouched notification continued to light up your inbox, no doubt just being the website’s way of ensuring their reservation went through and they would be paid.
You turned over to look at your phone and the little banner still sitting at the top that said, “You’ve been invited to reserve a cabin by JAMES BARNES.”
It was fitting that he’d picked the Gold Package, and you had to admit, a sexy getaway was incredibly tantalizing.
Yet, everything felt rushed, and you knew exactly why. You knew you were always going to give in, but ever since that conversation at the hospital, you wanted so badly for every choice to at least be your own. Something you wanted to do, not be coerced by circumstances.
You told yourself every second after you’d logged into your computer, your eyes still heavy with broken sleep, that this was still your decision. Accepting the invite would be your decision, no matter what reason you had to make it.
With one simple click, it was done, a cascade of hearts flooding the screen as their little mascot hopped around with joy. It was cute, yet still a little cheesy.
You set the computer aside before laying back on the bed and letting the small streaks of sun coming in from the window warm your skin. You felt so oddly relieved, yet still so anxious. It was a good start, better than what you had before.
A small ding sang through the peaceful morning, and once again you emerged from your little sheet cocoon to grab your phone from the nightstand. It was a message from Bucky, and he seemed as excited as ever to have gotten your confirmation.
‘Good morning :D’
You smiled at the message, feeling more relief spread through your tired body as you typed back.
‘Morning. I take it you got the notification.’
You watched as those three dots jumped inside the prospective chat bubble before two popped up at once.
‘I did indeed.’
‘You have no idea how happy this makes me.’
Everything he said always seemed to make your heart blossom with a new feeling of warmth. It really put into perspective how tiring all that stress and anxiety really was when it finally started to disappear.
Expressing his eagerness through text must not have been enough for him, as the phone buzzed to life in your hand before you could type another reply.
You didn’t hesitate to answer it, and your belly fluttered at the low rumble of his voice as it sang through the speaker.
“Hey, doll”
“Hi. You miss me already?”
You heard him chuckle softly, probably smiling at the bashful tone in your voice. “I hope I’m not coming on too strong.”
“No! I think it’s really sweet.”
It was nice to have someone care this much about your needs, especially above their own. It was someone who wanted to take care of you at what may well be your weakest.
You hear him clear his throat for a second, shaking the sweet and sugary vibe that the conversation had started on. “Do I have the date right? If not, then I can fix the reservation..”
“No, you remembered very well. I’m actually surprised.”
“I guess I’m just excited.”
“That makes two of us; I’m practically shaking in my boots.”
He laughed back at your goofy little retort, and you giggled nervously along with him.
“I was kind of afraid you’d say no.” His voice seemed to fall again as he spoke, giving you a glimpse of a few insecurities of his own. “Like, maybe I scared you away.”
“As if.” You laughed it off immediately, bemused at the thought that he’d consider himself anything more than the teddy bear he’d shown you.
“I needed some time to take it in for a second. I just felt so much in the moment, ya-know.” You smiled down at the phone as you spoke, hoping you could melt his fears just as he did yours. “Believe me, you're not scary one bit.”
You swear you could feel the laugh he’d let out as you chuckled with him.
He’d talked to you for hours, showering you with compliments as he finalized the details of your trip.
“Are you sure you’ll be able to take that time off? It is pretty soon.” You stepped around your kitchen, looking for a mug to pour some coffee into. Bucky watched your shapely form as it moved across his screen, smiling to himself before you turned back to the phone and caught his eyes wondering.
The conversation had since evolved into a video call, letting you see the actual smile on his face. There would be glimpses of the rough grain in his facial hair and the deepening blue of his eyes, but there were finer details that you couldn’t see.
You wanted to see so much more, and soon you will. That thought alone made you feel so much happier.
He brushed his hair back with his fingers, leaving a thick lock behind his ear and a few strands to fall back across his forehead and cheek.
“I’ll be just fine; help to be your own boss.”
“Oh? Big boss, man, huh?”
He huffed a chuckle before he spoke back, “A story for another time, but I’ll tell you now it’s not all it’s cracked up to be.”
You gave him a little pout.
“What about you?” He asked, in a clear attempt to redirect the conversation back to the original question.
“Oh, I always get my heat off. It’s kinda like that for Omega’s.”
You were more than lucky to work in an environment that was so welcoming to people like you, and you were sure that your supervisor would understand.
“Makes sense..” You watched his eyes wander from the screen as he pulled his phone from the pocket of his sweatpants. It looked so out of date that it was no wonder why he only used the webcam on his computer.
“Nice flip phone, grandpa.”
He laughed back at you with “gee thanks, doll” before tossing down the bad news. “I gotta go.”
“Awe, already.”
“Yeah, nothing like a work emergency on a Saturday.” You watched him toss the phone on his desk offscreen before turning back to you. “I can’t wait to see you, Omega.”
“I can’t wait either, Alpha.” You felt his eyes shift as you spoke, as if finally hearing you say his denomination so diffidently.
You tapped the red button on the phone screen, ending the call before you turned it off and set it aside.
By mid-afternoon, you’d since decided to knock out a few of your household chores. You were already elbow deep in some soapy dishwater when you heard another familiar ringtone. You fumbled for the dish towel nearby to dry your pruney fingers before grappling with your phone.
You accepted the call and called back a sweet greeting to one of your favorite people.
“Hi, mom.”
“Hi sweetie. I haven’t heard from you in a few days..” Her concern was sweet, but you were quick to cut her short, not wanting another reminder of the previous incident.
“I’m fine, mom.”
She sighed back, “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“I know.”
“Any news?” Her voice lightened, truly hoping there would have been an update on your condition and even more so that it was promising.
There was plenty of news, wonderful news that you weren’t ready to break to your worrisome mothers just yet.
Better now than never, it seemed, “I met someone.”
“Oh?”
She didn’t sound happy, and every second afterward that she left you in silence made your once-airy mood deflate.
"He's uh...He’s an alpha.” Your jaw only tightens further as you wait for an answer back. Anything would be better than another ‘oh?’
“Well, that’s nice. W-where did you two..meet?” Her discomfort was never easily hidden, but at least she was trying.
“We met on this dating site, and we’ll be spending some time together soon.”
“I see. So is it a date to a cafe or dinner?”
“We’re going away for...." You struggled to find the words, "...it’s just this vacation rental somewhere quiet and calm.”
“Oh, a getaway. Sounds nice, but... you know your cycle will be coming soon. It’s probably best to be careful.”
“I-I'll be taken care of..."
“Are you sure? I can always be there to take care of you in case of another emergency.”
You felt your stomach tighten a little as she spoke.
“That’s actually why we’ll be out of town.” Your toes shifted along the floor, carting you to the fridge so you could grip the handle to better hold yourself upright.
She didn’t answer back right away, only giving you a weak “you can’t do that.”
It made the blood freeze in your veins, leaving your body tense against the refrigerator. “Mom..”
“Do you have any idea what might happen to you all that way from home?”
“I know what I’m doing.”
“The hell you do. You can’t do this. I can’t lose you.”
She seemed to spiral nearly as badly as you did.
“If I go through another heat without a partner, you fucking will lose me.” You nearly wailed as you yelled back into the phone, only to be met with a few moments of dead air.
It made the frantic beat of your heart seem louder and louder. Proof that no matter how calm the waters felt, you couldn’t escape the truth that swam beneath them.
“Sweetheart, I only want you to be safe.”
You knock your head back against the fridge before letting your body slide along the side of it, letting the newly mounting anxieties drag you down to the floor. “I’m not safe alone, mom.”
“I’m sorry. I know you wanted to wait for all this, and it’s not fair.” Her voice was just as weak as yours was now.
“It’s fine; I need to grow up sometime.” You said back, pulling your knees to your chest. You didn’t want to wallow in this disparity anymore; you were so sick of it all. It takes a single thought—a glimmer of hope shining through the dark clouds that have begun to circle around you.
You thought of Bucky.
“B..James’ is nice; I think you’d like him.” You had to quickly correct yourself, knowing his nickname had been sweet to you but could seem silly to others. You still remember the abashed laugh you gave when he first told you.
“I…good, that’s good.”
You knew that wasn’t what she wanted to say, and now you weren’t afraid to say it instead.
“You think you’d like him more if you’d gotten to meet him.”
“I didn’t say that, but yes.” You hear her voice wavering as she speaks. “I’m glad, though, that he’s nice. I hope you have fun on your trip.”
“Thank you, mom.”
“Please be safe, sweetheart. I love you.”
You sighed for a second before telling her you loved her too, and the call came to an end. You were still hugging your knees, nearly curling in on yourself in your kitchen. The floor was uncomfortable, and you finally unfolded yourself and pushed off of it. You missed the careless feeling you’d had while talking to Bucky, lamenting how easily your mood had dipped like a sinking ship.
It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fucking fair at all. Just when you thought you could escape the anxiety, it rounded its ugly head around each corner. Well, this time you wouldn’t be taking it lying down anymore.
You used this new momentum to spur yourself through the house and towards your bedroom. You bolted for your closet, determined now only to look ahead to your chance to get away from it all. You tore through your hung clothes, wanting to find anything that could impress your perspective, Alpha.
You found yourself leafing through more khaki shorts than you’d realized you’d owned. Faded sundresses and worn-out old sandals littered the pile, along with plain cotton panties in contrast to any lacy lingerie.
You still had a long way to go before you truly felt comfortable in your own skin. But certainly, a little shopping could do some good too.
There was a fire in your belly, burning you forward like an angry locomotive.
It will be a cold day in hell before anyone takes this opportunity away from you.
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Tag list : @bethyruth @scott-loki-barnes @wintrsoldrluvr @buckysdoll85 @lendeluxe @meowmeowyoongles @heletsmelovehim @mcira @buckysbaby-doll @serendipitouslife90 @unicornicopia1 @animegirlgeeky @matchat3a @darkdemeter @onyxwolf @thebuckybarnesvault
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controld3vil · 2 days
Text
chaotic duo
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pairing(s): dune cast x actor!reader (platonic), oscar isaac x actor!reader
synopsis: requested by this ask!
⤷ alt: even your on-screen son can't deny how delightful his on-screen parents were.
notes: absolutely no shade to jessica ferguson i adore her too much. reader is considered to have fem pronouns. ALSO ive been feeling iffy about trying to write for dune characters?? personally, although i love writing these actor!reader stories, writing for the actual characters i feel would be more challenging. dune's still pretty new to me but i kinda wanna give it a shot if i can make a good storyline T-T
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It all started with the Dune Cast Q&A brought together by Nerdist. Timothee Chalamet and Denis Villeneuve had just finished chatting with the host, Stephen Colbert about their perspectives on Paul's character. Much emphasis had gone on the young actor's performance. And Denis's decision to cast such a well-experienced one.
After finishing up their last question together, Stephen decides to introduce two additional members. "Timothee let's bring out the man and the woman who play your parents, Duke Leto Atreides and Lady Jessica." A transition between screens to display your camera view and Oscar's. He introduces both your names.
"Hi!" You grin at the camera, comfortably leaning against one of the arms of your chair. Similar to everyone else's backdrop, yours was pitch gray, covering all but your silhouette and chair.
"Hey Stephen," Oscar greets at ease, as you proceed to wave to each of the people seen onscreen.
It cuts immediately to the host gesturing in continuation for a question. "Tell me and the audience about Duke Leto Atreides. What do we need to know?"
"He's the father and human. I think that's the biggest thing and uh under incredible pressure to save his family. Save his house but to adapt to this new existential threat situation which is moving to this strange planet," Your fellow costar puts into short. Short and concise was what was expected.
Content with his answer, Stephen moves the attention to you. He calls out your name, eagerly. "Rereading the books uh- right now, I am struck by how much of the story- uh the backstory and the action story is driven by the decisions Lady Jessica makes." A smile grows on your face, knowing how much fun was a character to play for you.
Along his last few words, you find yourself nodding in agreement. "I'm impressed with that you, Stephen actually read the books again!" An instant grin comes from the said man. "But it's all applause to Denny- he highlighted this from the book. In the film, her decisions basically create, fractures and disrupts everything."
"Best parents ever," In a low whisper, Timothee murmurs and the five of you burst into short chuckles and snickers.
"The best you could ever have!" You clapped your hands together, shaking them above your head in victory. And when the screen expands to show everyone's reactions, the audience can noticeably pinpoint Oscar's playful eye-rolling.
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Another fun interview you had the pleasure of sharing was with Grazia UK. It was in a more comfortable setting. With you and Oscar in a lounge room, with the Zoom camera on. While the female interviewer complimenting a kind smile.
"Can I ask you something," Not within a second of the conversation, you rose up with a peculiar question. "Do you remember his beard?" Your costar beside you, looks away in disappointment. Even raising his hand to emphasize his discouraged state.
"A bit yes..."
"Yeah,"
"Yes!"
"Why? It was an impressive beard," Sort of clueless really, the interviewer says, of why you wanted to the topic up.
"Yeah, it was impressive!" Oscar looks back and forth between you and the camera, directing towards the woman on the other side. While you shriveled in embarrassment, leaning your head behind his shoulder, with a few snorts of laughter. "She doesn't even remember if I had a beard or not in the movie! She just saw it."
"Quite a prominent beard!"
"Yes yes, well I can remember so much," You chaste, leaning closer, locking eyes with your costar. Threatening really in a playful way.
"We shot together for a few months! How could you not remember?!" He exclaims, raising both his hands in the air in exasperation. You puff, adorning a pouty-like look.
"I work with what's in front of me," you turn to address the interviewer, pointing at Oscar accusingly. Because much contrast to what he looked months ago, he no longer had that impressive beard. He was clean-shaven, much to your display.
Next to you, Oscar scoffs. "Apparently not!" Bumping shoulders with you as you fought back, poking him many times obnoxiously.
You both later discussed a provoking quote referenced multiple times from Dune posters. Fear is the mind killer. Truly a simple yet intriguing phrase that fitted well with the film. And in generally, you and Oscar compared each others quotes from personal experience.
"I guess you could combine them together," Taking a sip out of your glass, you eyed at Oscar. He hums back and smooths his hands comfortably down his hips.
"It will pass and love prevails!" He cheerfully expresses. Even from afar, the interviewer can notice how much fun you two were having with the question.
"Right and, it plays perfectly with the film," You add onto your little spiel, nodding as you go, "Besides the fact that- you know, fear is the mind killer."
The male actor lets out a long sigh. "Makes you forget how violent the movie is."
On the other side of the screen, the blonde interviewer shrugs her shoulders. "Well- it's only included in small parts in the movie."
It was your turn to hum, dragging out the M sound. "I think maybe the film focusses too much on romance."
A caught off cough comes from Oscar as he tries to his best to dismiss his your sarcastic comment. "I feel like there should've been more of it."
"Really?!" The shot pans to your exaggerated shocked gaze. You then turn to look at the interviewer. "He has no idea how to write a movie." Instantaneously the male actor bursts out laughing, shaking his head back and forth in little denial. Even you couldn't hold it together and giggled a little.
"You play Timothee's parents so spent a lot of time with him. What is the most interesting thing we do not about Timothee Chalamet?" The interviewer prompts, having their arms supported on top the their desk with pure keenness.
Pursing your lips together in concentration, your attention turns towards your partner. "Well coming from me- I mean I don't know if people know this about him or not- but he's very open hearted." Oscar continues, "And me, having to play his father- hence the beard!"
"Ah!" Giving more emphasis, you raised your brow in recollection.
He goes on comparing the analogy of having to play Duke Leto as a powerful leader of a House. Without his people and court, he wouldn't resemble much of an prestige leader. However Oscar later mentions that Timothee's performance was the catalyst to their relationship look authentic. He is young yet incredibly sympathetic towards what's to be done for the film. His time with both of you really sold your relationship as a family, you'd think.
"So that's a very generous thing to do for a young actor. And I was impressed and admired that," In the background, you can be heard mumbling in agreement. Your partner shifts his posture, facing and expecting you to go next.
Licking your lips, you took one last glance at him before focusing strictly at the Zoom camera. "I think for me, to have a young actor like him- he's very driven about it all. When he's on and off screen, Timothee's just focused- he's very serious and concentrates heavily on what Denny says- and I can say I respect that." You punctuate your point, tapping lightly on your knee. "And I play his mother you know, and I try to accommodate with that. I play along and we work until we find a good rhythm with each other." The older woman on the screen seemed enamored by your compliments regarding your costar. Yet her eyes quickly makes it's way to Oscar, sitting quietly and listening to you ramble.
His laidback posture showed how greatly he took your words in. You grab your glass and take a quick sip before hearing him say, "We raised him well." Taking your hand in both of his as a sign of pride.
A delightful chuckle comes from both you and the interviewer while your partner gives a satisfied grin. "We really did!"
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The media did not need proof to know of your enjoyed time during the production of Dune. In fact, multiple vlogs and documentaries about the film had fans and viewers alike become fond of your positive and laid back attitude about it all. Despite playing a calculating character such as Lady Jessica, you were nothing of serious when on screen with your costars.
"Welcome to Arrakis!" You popped into frame, wearing an exquisite dress, costumed by one of the designers. It was golden yellow with chains running down from the bottom half of your face to your chest. A faint veil covered your head but for right now, you had it placed on your hair. You spread your arms with anticipation for the cameraman to pan around your surroundings. "It's sunny today so I think we'd be out here for some time." You moved extremely close to the camera, before moving out of the frame to the side.
Abu Dhabi was bliss. The production and crew worked diligently day and night working in the deserts. And on this particular day, most of the cast had been present as well for the introduction of House Atriedes on Arrakis.
A few shots slowly pans from the crew's tents and Denny far into the sandy mountains as he speaks with Timothee. Another shot slyly captures you showing Josh Brolin an unknown video, sideways. Which somehow made him cackle very enthusiastically, holding his stomach to air as you quickly pat his back multiple of times. In all, everyone of the cast members were having a blast in the dry outskirts of the unknown.
"Hello," Brolin pops in another clip where he stands, wearing the Atreides armor. Under a massive shade area, a few people can be spotted in the background, moving equipment and conversing with others. From afar, the people filming the documentary can be heard presenting a few questions for him to touch upon. "Ah what do I think about Lady Jessica being played by," He says your name sincerely.
The video cuts to you having a conversation with your on and screen husband. A hand covering above your face to shield yourself from the sun, while Oscar tries to move where the light is hitting you as the best he could.
"I mean a phenomenal actor like her playing in that kind of role is guaranteed to have an amazing performance. She's- We've known each for a long time since Sicario and with Denny," The male actor softly grins, staring at where you were. "But Oscar on the other hand, eh- not so much." His tone becoming monotonous, as if the shift in topic was distasteful to the touch.
"Whatcha say, Gurney?!" A scream echoes and it's Oscar, cupping both his hands into an O.
The older actor couldn't keep it together before breaking into frivolous giggles. "Nothing, my lord!" He takes one last glance back before seeing you give him two big thumbs up with a silly smirk. "No in all seriousness, those two are just the best! You can never have a bad day with them."
Another prominent section in the video fans adored was with the actors that played Duncan Idaho and Dr. Liet Kynes. This time they are situated in what looked like the structure of Arrakeen. Where all ornithopters were supposedly stationed and the introduction of Dr. Kynes.
"They're so mom and dad," Jason Momoa shaking his head playfully with his hands clamped together. Both him and Sharon Duncan-Brewster wore still suits unlike many other extras who wore Atreides armor. "I mean- they're playing Paul's parents- but in real life it's just so different."
"Definitely more chaotic," Brewster jumps in, earning a hum from her costar. "They act nothing like them."
A cool shot from different location displays you in a dark with Timothee. It was the scene after Paul is put to test to by the Reverent Mother. It was a chilling scene yes, but in post production, many realize how unprofessional you sometimes were even in the most serious times.
The cameras were not live however the film crew were about to pan to you gesturing back and forth with your on-screen son. It was a interactive and intriguing conversation you both were having. You looking in purely engaged with what the French actor was saying. After a few sentences being spoken, it looked as though you chided a teasing joke which gave the reaction of Timothee slightly snickering, backing away slowly.
"I mean do they look like my parents? No," The young actor states shortly. It looked as though the clip was shot right after capturing your cute moment togehter. "But I'd say- yeah Oscar Isaac's a great actor and- to be able to play my dad is pretty cool. Even though we look nothing alike." Nervous laughter spouts as he clears his throat.
"I feel like I get the resemblances from my mom though," Affectionately stating your name, "You can tell where I got my powers, good looks from." Momentarily readjusting his collar as he takes a quick look from behind, knowing your footsteps.
"See? I'm the favorite parent!" In hushed squeal, you wrapped your hands around Timothee's shoulders, earning a lovable grin back.
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catapparently · 2 days
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Five Times Kaz Brekker Denied His Feelings and One Time He Didn't
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AO3 LINK
MASTERLIST
Request by anon!
Pairing: Kaz Brekker x female!Reader
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Kaz Brekker wasn’t known for being particularly emotional. If you asked anyone in the Barrel to describe his emotions, you’d be given the lack thereof as an answer. Though if someone’s ever seen the way the Bastard of the Barrel goes downright ballistic when his second-in-command gets hurt, the word to describe him would be angry. Furious- or more like a wild animal, protecting his own.
Nina had been the first to figure out that ruthless, cold Kaz had a penchant for his dear second-in-command. His heart usually had a steady beat, but when you would enter the room, his heart would skip a beat and set on an erratic pace, practically begging Nina’s Heart render abilities to calm him down.
It annoyed her just how stupid this man could be when it came to his own feelings, and if there was something you could say about Kaz, it would be that he’s probably one of the cleverest and most calculating people you would ever meet.. She was almost tempted to increase his heartbeat even more to the brink of a heart attack just for the sake of maybe making him realize just how in love he was with you.
The first time she’d noticed it was on a rainy evening. For the first time in forever, Kaz was in the Slat common room, sitting in front of the fireplace with the rest of their little team, planning another meeting at the Exchange. Nobody dared sit next to Kaz, even though there was another spot on the couch next to him. Inej was sitting on a windowsill as usual while Jesper and Wylan were squished together in the armchair. And Matthias was… well, Matthias. Ever the prude, debating whether he could publicly wrap his arms around her and hug her close or not.
Then you walked in, and Nina felt Kaz’s heartbeat spike. She’d initially been somewhat worried that he was having a stroke, not that she’d be fully devastated if he died. Then again, maybe even Matthias would miss the demjin.
You plopped down next to Kaz at a respectable distance, but to everyone else, you might as well be draped over him at this point. He didn’t say a thing. If anything, Nina swore she saw him take a bigger breath, as if he was lacking air.
“You’re late,” he stated, looking at you.
You scowled back at him. “Well, sorry, someone had me filing random papers and specifically told me to not leave the room until I was done.”
The Heartrender wanted to scream in frustration and tear Kaz’s terrible haircut off his scalp. Even Matthias hadn’t been this oblivious to his own feelings.
“You horrible, dense podge,” she muttered under her breath, secretly hoping Brekker had heard her.
~~~
Wylan sighed in frustration. This was the seventeenth time Kaz had made him redo a set of designs. He kept saying it wasn’t perfect enough, that the rings of the brass knuckles didn’t seem comfortable, that maybe they needed something softer around where the fingers would go; that maybe a fine plate of diamond over it would be more efficient… the list went on and on. Wylan was tempted to just dump the papers on his desk and tell him to design it himself.
“What do you even need these for?” the redhead asked. “Even if you steal all the materials necessary, commissioning a Fabrikator to make such sophisticated brass knuckles, a weapon you don’t even personally need, will cost you a fortune.”
Kaz scoffed. “You still speak like a spoiled merchant’s kid with a horde of tutors.”
The older man scrutinized the plans again, making sure nothing was missing. “It’s a gift for her. She needs them.”
He didn’t even need to mention her name for Wylan to know who he meant. There was only one person that the thought of could make his tone change like that and soften his gaze- even just a tiny bit.
Wylan cocked his head. “Why? Can’t you just get her a dagger or something? It’s much more efficient and a far bigger range.”
Kaz rolled the papers carefully and tucked them under his arm. “Her arms are strong and so are her hits. She has no technique though, so the deadliness of the brass knuckles should compensate for it. Besides, nobody can suddenly master knives. Knowing her, she’d knick herself instead of the opponent.”
If Wylan didn’t know any better, he’d swear that the smallest smile tugged at a corner of Kaz’s mouth, barely there.
“Does she matter that much to you, oh mighty Dirtyhands?” the younger boy lightly teased, hoping Kaz wouldn’t kill him for it.
“I can’t risk losing a very valuable asset.”
With that, Kaz turned around and walked out of Wylan’s little lab, leaving the sunshine of the Crows sighing at his denial.
Truth to be told, Kaz had freaked when he saw you bloodied, bruised and beaten on a simple mission. All you had to do was distract the guards while he broke into a vault. The guards had gotten suspicious and attacked. You hadn’t been able to keep up, instinct making you try to punch back aimlessly but without doing much damage. Kaz had heard the commotion and quickly stepped out of the vault.
He’d frozen. Kaz Brekker does NOT freeze. At that moment, he was Kaz Rietveld. Kaz Rietveld, watching his brother get beat up by a lowly thug. Every single cell inside of him screamed at him to do something, to risk something.
When the two of you finally made it out alive and got back to Slat, you expected him to scold you for not being good enough. For not being charismatic enough like Nina or Jesper or as stealthy as Inej.
Instead, Kaz locked himself in his office and spent all night finding a way to help her in fighting.
~~~
Jesper wasn’t sure what was going on. Kaz had given him a heavy bag of kruge and sent him down to the auction house.
“With how much you gamble, you’re excellent at randomly yelling out big sums of money,” he’d told him. “You’re walking out of that auction with that DeKappel oil painting of the beach. I don’t care how much it will cost.”
Jesper had felt absolutely insulted. Randomly yelling out big sums of money? Who did Kaz think he was? It wasn’t random. Jesper put utmost thought and precision into his choice of what sum to yell out when he was making a very risky gamble.
He had no choice but to go down to the auction house. He had to sit there for hours. The item he’d been tasked to bid on had yet to appear. So far, he’d seen some ancient lipstick that belonged to a star from many centuries ago and some queen’s rotten panties, which sold for more than Kaz could steal in a lifetime.
Why hadn’t the said man stolen the painting instead? It would surely cost a fortune. Since when does Kaz acquire stuff honestly, anyway?
Finally, after waiting and waiting and resisting to bid on a gorgeous set of diamond encrusted bullets, the infamous painting appeared on the auction stage. Jesper stared at it, dumbfounded. It was… just a painting. He was expecting something enchanted, something special. Not… a painting.
It was pretty, sure, but it was a basic depiction of the beach; turquoise waves crashing on the shore with a sun hanging low on the horizon.
But Jesper was a good boy, so he did exactly what he was told to and bid all of the money in the bag. Then he brought home the canvas, carrying straight up to Kaz’s office.
He looked at Jesper oddly as he entered. “What are you doing with it in my office?”
Jesper huffed in annoyance. “No ‘why, thank you, oh gorgeous and wonderful Jes’? I went through so much mental pain to get this painting for you. I even watched stale old grandma panties up on display for Saints know how long.”
Kaz shot him a cold glare. “It’s not for me.”
“Oh? Then for who is it?
“…”
“Aww, does the mighty, ruthless Dirtyhands have a little crush? A little, itsy-bitsy weakness? Is there something going on between the two of you? Is- OW!” The sharpshooter yelped in pain when Kaz’s lead-lined cane jammed into his side. If looks could kill, Jesper would be long since buried six feet under, underneath a pile of bricks that Kaz dumped on him brick by brick.
“There’s absolutely nothing going on. If you don’t want to die, then you can go up and help her place it on her wall.”
Jesper’s pain- both mental and physical- lifted in an instant. So the painting truly was for you. Adorable. He sauntered out of the office and down to your room, which was conveniently located right under the attic, closest to Kaz’s.
He didn’t even bother knocking, knowing he’d find you there, either lazily curled up in your bed or munching on sweets.
“Darlin’, look what good ol’ Kaz got you!” he exclaimed, waving the canvas in your face.
You stared at it, a soft smile gracing your features.  “Kaz got it?”
“Well, to be fair, he sent me out to get it since he’s a lazy shit, but it’s still from him.”
You smiled and bounced out of your bed, taking it from him and placing it on a nearby hook on the wall where you used to hang a darts target before it broke because of overly angry dart throwing.
“So he really did remember.”
“Remember what?” he asked.
“Sometimes I tell him about my childhood and my travels. I once visited the beach in the Southern Colonies when I was a kid, and I still remember how magical it looked. I kinda miss it.” You stared fondly at the depiction of the beach.
Jesper was once again left standing there, dumfounded. Kaz had gotten her a painting of the ocean just because she missed the beach? Kaz? Kaz?!
And he dared say there was nothing going on between the two of you?
~~~
“Can’t you ask any nicer?”
Kaz scoffed. “Oh darling Inej, treasure of my heart, will you do me the honor of teaching my second-in-command how to fight?” he answered, a sarcastic tone taking over the usual cold one.
“Fine. But why is this so important to you?” the Suli girl asked.
“I can’t afford to lose such a valuable asset to the Dregs. I can’t always be there when she’s in trouble; she has to have a way to defend herself.”
A valuable asset? It was just as bad as back in the day when he’d call Inej a very important investment. He hadn’t changed a single bit.
Inej sat on the edge of the windowsill again, crossing one of her supple legs over the other. “I don’t suppose you gave her a weapon to work with, at least?”
“I commissioned a Fabrikator. Lead-lined brass knuckles with a fine diamond plating on the impacting area.”
A surprised look appeared on Inej’s face, along with a slight twinge of something in her heart. Kaz had gotten her a pair of brass knuckles at some point in time too, though they were plain.
She didn’t exactly have a right to feel jealous. After all, she was the one who’d pretty much rejected him. She wanted someone who she’d be able to touch, someone she could actually kiss and hold. It had hurt her at first, to definitely cross out Kaz in her heart, but she knew it was for the better. She deserved what she wanted, and she wouldn’t settle for anything else. Besides, why should she give up on her dreams of hunting slavers for a man?  
She was genuinely happy for you. You were fine with Kaz’s touch aversion and his rather slow improvement. The both of you fit together well.
In her opinion, Kaz had been more in love with the idea of her than actually her.
“Okay. I’ll teach her.”
Kaz gave a slight nod. That was probably the closest to a thanks that she’d ever get from him.
“I heard that some people down in the Fifth Harbor are planning on selling some good ships,” he started. “Thought you might want to know.”
Her lips curved into a smile.
So long, Kaz Brekker.
~~~
Matthias thought he’d seen it all. He’d seen Grisha on parem, flying through the air and turning into water. He’d seen –and experienced- a gang of teenagers stealing a tank from the most safely guarded prison in the world and crashing it through a wall, then bombarding a bridge. He’d even see a girl, his girl, raise the dead and make them attack people.
Though, quite frankly, this, by far, took the cake to the point where Matthias had to bite down on his palm to make sure he wasn’t drugged and delirious and was back in Hellgate.
What in Djel’s name?!
The moment was so intimate that he felt the need to bleach his eyes and never be able to use them again in order to give the two of you a bit of privacy. Even though Matthias was still new to the language and local slang, he found himself muttering, “what the fuck?!” over and over again.
Kaz had recently come back wounded from Djel knows where. His excuse was that he’d snuck into some clinic to steal something, and instead of making himself fake wounds with makeup, he decided to cut himself up to make it look more real.
Matthias knew the story was fake. That little demjin was lying through his teeth.
Anyhow, with whatever had happened to him, Kaz couldn’t move around well, especially with his teeth. He also looked sore, wincing every time he moved, especially in the arms.
Maybe Matthias should have expected this. Maybe not. He was halfway down the wooden staircase that led down to the Slat common room. Most of the members were out and about, in the Crow Club or doing Djel knows what.
Kaz was seated at a smaller table in the far back corner of the dining room with you across from him. There was a plate of food in between you.
Matthias rubbed his eyes again to make sure he wasn’t seeing things.
You dug a fork into the food and lifted it up to Kaz’s mouth. Kaz, who obediently opened his mouth and took the bite.
What in the name of Djel?
His arms were stiffly bandaged up, and his posture was just as stiff.
Matthias groaned inwardly. He could already hear the “she’s a very important asset…” speech. He didn’t get paid enough for this. He whirled around and walked back up to his room and into Nina’s warm, sleeping embrace.
~~~
Kaz was feeling strange lately. His heart had been feeling lighter, and he could almost say he’d been in a good mood if it wasn’t for the headache he had. All of his thoughts kept circling back to you. You, you you and you.
It would have been annoying if he weren’t so fond of his best asset.  On an evening, he’d stood in the open doorway to your room to make sure Jesper had brought you the painting. He had to force himself to not smile at the thought of you going to bed and staring at the depiction of the beach, thinking about all those memories you had. That’s what he’d wanted. He wanted you to go to sleep thinking of a happy, carefree life. A life he wanted to give you but that he knew was impossible in the Barrel, so he’d settle for this.
You always refused to leave. He didn’t understand. You could go anywhere in the world. There was nothing keeping you here. He’d even give you the money for the travel and expenses if you needed.
Yet every time he brought it up, you always said the same answer. “I’m not leaving home, Kaz.”
His heart had soared with delusion and lightness. Home? Was he your home? He knew that he was overthinking it, but he could only dream.
It brought him to his current dilemma. What was going on in his heart? He knew he’d come to care for you more than he’d want to admit, but he also cared for Wylan, Jesper, Inej, Nina… maybe even Matthias too, even though he still wasn’t a major fan of the infamous blonde tulip. Even the tulip comparison someone had brought up was wrong. The Fjerdan was more like an overgrown weed you kept trying to rip out, but it only grew stronger and more resilient to your desperate tugs.
His heart fluttered when he looked at you. His heart lurched at the thought of you being in danger. His heart felt content when going to bed with you on his mind. His heart felt sad when dreaming about you and then waking up without you at his side.
He found himself standing at the door to her room again. His mouth twitched at the sight of the familiar sign that spelled your name. You changed it regularly, not liking the way you engraved your name, always complaining that a specific letter wasn’t curvy enough or another was too tall in comparison to the others.
You had personality. Kaz loved it.
He froze just as he was about to knock at that thought. Love? Was this love?
He didn’t even bother knocking anymore; he just burst through the door.
You were, as usual, seated in your bed. You’d been so insistent on getting one huge, soft bed instead of a smaller bed and a miniature couch. Kaz couldn’t complain; on rare moments of weakness, he often came and lounged on your cushiony mattress while the two of you made plans about missions and other stuff.
What caught Kaz’s attention was the little black ball of fluff with ears in your lap.
He swallowed thickly. “There’s a very strict rule that says no pets at the Slat. Not even crows.”
You look up at him with a grin on your face as you pet the small kitten. “Too bad. I’m keeping it. Forever and ever.”
Kaz sat down on the edge of the bed, his mind swirling and his heart still racing from his earlier realization. “I guess I can’t argue with you then, hmm?”
He hesitated. Then he removed his leather gloves, ignoring the slight widening of your eyes, and reached out a palm to lay it on the fluffy feline’s head. He moved his hand in a petting motion. He was pleasantly surprised that the contact didn’t affect him. Then again, animals were a different case.
“It’s cute.”
You didn’t say anything about him removing his gloves. Kaz liked that about you. You let him move at his own pace. You didn’t prod him or push him for more.
“What are you going to name it?” he asked.
You moved your hand down to rub the kitten’s belly, very careful to not accidentally touch Kaz’s hand in the process.
“I dunno. Either I’ll name it after you, Kazzle Dazzle or something, or I’ll find some other fitting name.”
Kaz let a slight smile appear on his face. He suddenly didn’t feel like keeping all of his guards up around you anymore.
“Don’t name it after me. Name it a real name, like Orion or Onyx or Jordie or Shadow-.” He held his breath, hoping you wouldn’t notice his intentional slip-up. He wasn’t sure exactly why he’d suggested that specific name to you. Maybe now that Pekka was no more, he’d healed a bit. Maybe he didn’t mind the little healthy reminder, a small piece of his brother prancing around with mice in its jaw.
Or maybe he didn’t mind sharing himself, all of his thoughts and past and trauma, with you.
“Hmm. Jordie. I like that.” You smiled fondly at him.
His hand slipped and brushed against the side of yours.
It wasn’t an accident.  
95 notes · View notes
phyrestartr · 1 day
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Icarus Drabbles (Pt.2) | Sukuna x M!Reader
W/C: 3.7k [#Modern AU, ABO dynamics, Mob Boss!Sukuna, Alpha!Sukuna, Street Doctor!Reader, Omega!Reader, toxic relationships, age gap, sukuna is mid 30s, yuuji gang and reader are mid 20s, sukuna and yuuji are brothers, sukuna has FEELINGS, but he is BAD AT FEELINGS, nsfw, fluff, hurt/comfort, cheating, zenin family mentioned, lightly edited lmfao]
Note: There will prolly be a third drabble thingie lol I just wanted to post SOMETHING
tag: @better-imagination-9
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1. Restless
Sukuna finally bagged you, the omega he pined over and hunted down for over a decade, and knocked you up, made you move in with him to ensure he could keep an eye on you and that growing baby bump. His alpha had rejoiced, running its victory lap around Sukuna’s chest, but then it slowed, yawned, and curled up, satiated. 
Now, his human side was left to its own devices, and it was bored. 
Probably because you were boring. Or, well, you’d become boring–you and your omega seemed more in-tune with one another, both settling down as soon as you both agreed on staying with Sukuna, with your mate. To Sukuna’s human instincts, that meant you were about as exciting and fun as doing his taxes. Yet, at the same time, he couldn’t fathom letting you go. Whenever the hypothetical crossed his mind, that second set of eyes would open and stare, tear bared, anger rippling. And Sukuna would agree with it. He didn’t want to lose you, yet he didn’t always want you either. 
And he was bored. 
“Hey,” you cooed, leaning over his shoulder as he stared into space on the couch. “You okay?”
Sukuna blinked a few times and rubbed his face tiredly, finding himself growing pissed off at the dull delight your presence brought him. “Yeah, ‘m fine. Need something?”
“Well, Christmas’s coming up,” you reminded. “Wanted to make sure we were still–”
“Can’t.” Bitterness rose in the back of Sukuna’s throat. God, he didn’t even want to look at you right now. “Gotta work.” He finally spared you a glance, but only after a long stretch of silence. You didn’t look perturbed or mad, not really sad or disappointed, just…placid. 
You looked at your phone, staring at something just for a moment before returning back to him with a slight nod of acceptance. “Alright.” 
Sukuna's other bristled. “Alright.” 
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“I knew you couldn't really be taken ‘n tied down, Sukuna-sama,” Yorozu cooed as she cozied up into the spot between the man's legs, her hands smoothing up and down his thighs before deftly unlatching his belt and ripping it off. “You're too good for that sort of life.” 
“Don’t you have somethin’ better to do with that mouth?” The nice part of Sukuna asked. The less nice part of him wanted to rip her head off and punt it at the stupid fucking moon. Luckily for her, he was trying not to throw as many things at the horizon these days. 
Yorozu's eyes shone with pure delight. “Oh, of course, of course.” She unzipped his slacks expertly quick and pulled free his half-chub, excitedly stroking it to get him to full-mast. 
Sukuna sighed and sank back in his chair, trying to focus and enjoy the attention and spice he so sorely missed, but it was hard. Well, not hard, which was the problem–his mind wasn't finding this (cheating, getting a blow job at his desk, having a woman with tits on his knees for him) exciting. Thankfully, though, his body reacted in his mind's stead, and decided to not embarrass him. 
He closed his eyes and focused on the small hands grasping his base and holding his thigh–but your bigger, stronger hands held him better, digging in without the lethality of acrylics threatening harm. At least her mouth was warm, her lips soft--but your lips were soft, too, and you knew where he liked to feel your tongue press down. Her hair was silky and thick enough to fist his hand in–but yours was just…better. He couldn't describe it, but–
Knock it off, he growled. He needed a break from you, from how mundane you made everything, that was the whole fucking reason he ditched you in the first place. You were boring. You were making life boring. You–
What were you up to, actually? 
Sukuna sighed, this time in defeat, and snatched up his phone while Yorozu gave him head. He scrolled through whatever socials he knew you had, but saw nothing new, nothing Christmas-y. 
Who the hell is he visiting again? He looked to the side, gazing through the huge windows looming behind his desk as he thought, and then remembered. 
Sukuna tapped open your text thread and grimaced–it was so blatantly one-sided. The sight of his flippant convo-killing responses hit him with a wave of psychic damage that probably couldn't be fully healed for as long as he lived. He wasn't a fan of texting, but he was a fan of you. But-wait, didn't he loathe you?
5:05am went to see my mom for christmas
5:05am getting picked up dw
5:06am hope work doesn't suck too much
Right. You went to see family. Right. Sukuna was supposed to meet your mother. 
Damn.
“Fuck's sake,” Sukuna muttered moments before fisting his hand in Yorozu's hair and pulling him off his softening cock. “We're done.” He stood and tucked himself away, ignoring the indignant scoff the woman sent his way. 
“Sukuna–” 
“Leave.” He sent a text your way instead of tuning in to whatever Yorozu said as she picked herself up off her knees:
10:49pm When should I pick you up?
Of course he was gonna pick you up. He wasn’t about to let someone else take care of you for a second longer. 
“Clearly you're unhappy,” Yorozu finally cut in. 
Sukuna saw a read notification pop up in the chat. 
“Clearly that other one isn't satisfying you fully.” 
He watched the three dots pop up as you replied back. 
“After he has your pup–”
10:52pm you can come now
10:52pm if you're free 
“--you should reconsider your choice in mate–” 
Bang.
10:53pm Send me the address.
He stepped over her and the pooling crimson on his way to the door, texting Uraume to call the cleaners to take care of a mess in his office while he went to pick up his baby mama. 
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Picking you up had been eventful.
Firstly, Maki and Mai had refused to open the gate for Sukuna in favour of mocking him and exclaiming, “are you kidding me? You're the baby daddy?” while incessantly prodding him for information. You'd managed to bat them aside to let him up to the house, though it took some effort on your part. 
Next, Toji Zenin himself was waiting at the front door, arms crossed, totally unbothered, dressed in his hideous Christmas jumper that his woman had apparently made him wear as punishment for something. Sukuna ribbed him, hiding just how confused he was about the entire thing–he didn't fucking get why there were so many Zenin assholes here. The outcasts, sure, but what the fuck was that about? 
“Oh. Toji's my stepdad,” you said when you had finally squeezed your dragon's hoard of gifts into the car and got in the damn thing to go home. Sukuna left it at that for the time being–he didn't want to think about what the fuck that meant now that the two of you were together. He had time to ask a thousand questions another day.
His mind still whirred in the elevator, though, and when he helped carry your only-child gifts into the penthouse like a servant put under a spell. You said something to him that he only realized a solid fifteen minutes later was, “I'm taking a bath. There's room for two,” and a fire suddenly lit under his ass. 
“Huh, so you can bear to look at me,” you hummed from the bath. It was large and oaken, filled with yuzu thanks to Uraume's thoughtfulness, and it overlooked snowy Tokyo and all its bustling, light-filled glory and–wait, what.
Sukuna scoffed as he pulled off his clothes methodically. “The fuck is that supposed to mean?” 
You watched him undress shamelessly. “It means you still have lipstick on your dick.” You poked away one of the yuzu that bumped into you. “It's not really my colour.” 
Sukuna clenched his teeth and kicked aside his clothes before grabbing the showerhead to wash off before joining you because he was going to join you. No matter the case. No matter the objection. 
But you never objected. You leaned back in the tub and watched him while you rolled another yuzu between your palms. “Did you have fun fucking her?” Fuck, you could be so scary sometimes. And you didn't even have to try.
Sukuna found it hard to answer. He found it hard to even speak. Christ, was this shame? “Look–I didn't fuck her. Didn't even get close.” 
“So she just sucked your dick.”
“Tried. Didn't finish. Couldn't.” 
“So sad. Why not?”
“‘Cause she's not you.” Sukuna finished with the shower and slipped into the bath, sitting across from you with a content sigh. “You give better head.” 
“That went from being somewhat meaningful to annoying,” you grumbled. Still, you scooched over to him and pressed up against his side, clearly in the mood to forgive his stupid little attempted fling. “So. Then you're sure about this.” 
“Sure about what?” Sukuna wondered, suddenly feeling more at ease with the rich scent of you pooling through his senses. He leaned into you when you carefully smoothed his hair out of his face with that usual, simple gentility he'd come to desire so desperately every day. “Sure about you?” 
“Yeah. Us. Everything.” You nuzzled at his neck, dutifully scenting him up with kisses, nips and licks. “You started pulling away like a pussy, so I figured you regretted it.” 
Sukuna had to laugh. “You're callin’ me a pussy?” He half-growled before yoinking you into his lap and squeezing you up against him. His grin widened when he saw you hold back a smile. “I think you should apologize.” 
“You cheated on me with your stalker. Why do I need to apologize?” 
“You hurt my fuckin’ feelings.” 
“Oh. Hm. I see.” Your fingers, bigger than a woman's yet still elegant as a piano player's, danced across his firm shoulders in thought. “I think you need to have feelings for me to hurt them.” 
His hands found their rightful place (on your ass) and kneaded your skin thoroughly, squeezing and pinching wherever he felt most enticed. “You know I have feelings, sweetheart. Why do ya think you're here in the first place, huh?” 
Your scent flared with bashful approval. “Guess that's good to know. These days, you've left me wondering.” 
Sukuna grew placid gazing upon your features, listening to your words. If he really tried, behind that diamond mask of nonchalance most Zenin brats wore, there existed soft, vulnerable skin--tired and ragged, worried and creased. He'd done that to you. Why had he done that to you? 
He lifted a hand from your curves to cup your face gently, his touch breaking through the shields you so bravely put up to tell the world to fuck off. And you leaned into that touch so eagerly, so hungrily, with a sigh that sounded like you just remembered how to breathe. 
“‘M sorry,” Sukuna mumbled. The word felt foreign on his tongue. He didn’t know if he even said it right.
Your eyes squeezed shut just a little tighter, holding onto whatever you could of your crumbling shell as your hand rose to rest on his. “You know I love you,” you said while diamond dust turned to quicksilver.
Sukuna wiped the glimmer from your lashes. “Love you too, runt. Mean it.” Those words still felt strange, too, but he loved those words. He loved the way they made you glow from within, how they solidified you and stopped you from collapsing into a melted mess in the face of his betrayal and swift try at redemption. 
You nodded a little, the hard line of your mouth softening. Sukuna relaxed and hugged you close to him, purring deep in his chest in rhythm with you as you wholly accepted him in return and buried your face into his neck. He did the same, scenting you the way you had him, enjoying your company and weight against him. Because he loved you. He really did. 
So, he said once again, “Sorry.”
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2. Family Matters
“Sukuna,” Wasuke warned. The attention of the younger alpha, leaning against the counter, was on you as you yapped on about this and that with his little brother.
Sukuna grunted and looked over his shoulder at the old man, though, silently and curtly asking, what? even though he already knew what was coming.
“Leave that boy alone.” 
Sukuna stared at his grandfather. It'd become more and more common, the way the young man challenged his elder, maintaining hostile eye contact that threatened the beginning of the end if the older broke first–but he never did. The old fuck was too tough. Molded by whatever his own colourful irezumi put him through. 
Once, when he was younger, Sukuna wanted to know how to break his elder. He wanted to crack him open and rip those secrets from him, find out how he could use that knowledge to his advantage to never feel so small in the eyes of another ever again. He hated it. He hated the dominance held over him, the humility that came with it. 
But, like always, Sukuna broke first, looking away with a grumble, reinforcing his place in the food chain.
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Sukuna sighed. The old house was the same–far too traditional, too plain, too normal. It irked him to his core. Here, amidst all the boring normal shit of his past, his status in society no longer mattered; here, he forfeited first place, and took up second.
“Hey,” came your voice, muffled by the car window separating you from your lover. When Sukuna looked over at you, he saw his little nugget tucked safely in your arms, only half-awake as she nuzzled into the warmth of your chest. 
But then there was you. A face full of confusion, annoyance, and exasperation greeted Sukuna. You went for the door handle to wrench your man out of the car, but he locked it, watching you yank on the handle a handful of times before you knocked on the window incessantly. 
“Get out of the goddamn car, you little shit,” you hissed, looking between Sukuna and the front door of the house frantically. You stared at him hard, then, your frustration building every second your alpha refused to budge and end the embarrassment crashing down on you. 
A terrifyingly calm expression took over your face, before you adjusted the little pup in your arms and fished something out of your pocket. Sukuna didn't realize what it was until you leaned over and slammed your fist into the hood of the car, tearing into it easily with the fucking key in your hand. 
“You gotta be shitting me–” Sukuna scrambled to unlock the door and swing it open. He hopped out and slammed the car door closed. “You little–” 
“Oh, good, you found your balls.” 
Sukuna groaned as he looked at the damage you left. “Baby, you know how expensive this is gonna be to fix? Fucking hell, why're you such a crazy bitch?” 
“Well, look who I'm stuck with,” you said lightly. “Obviously you've corrupted me. It's not my fault.”
Sukuna grumbled and turned to you, grabbing you and pulling you close; but instead doling out a punishment as his past self was so accustomed to doing, he aggressively nuzzled the top of your head, viciously scenting you up and squeezing you against his solid frame while he grumbled and growled. 
“I'm splitting you in half when we get home.” 
You sighed, dramatic. “Oh no. I'm so afraid. But I guess I deserve such a brutal punishment. Sigh.” You nuzzled him back before tiptoeing up to kiss his chin, then his lips when he leaned down to meet you the rest of the way. “Ready?” 
Sukuna took a deep breath and looked over your face, running the back of his fingers against the rise of your cheekbone. He loved touching your face these days (more than usual). You still held onto a bit of pregnancy plushness that filled in the hollow angles of your handsomely beautiful face and other once-bony parts of your body. You'd never panicked about it, but you bitched and moaned, loudly lamenting about the way your clothes fit a little differently or how you just had to keep stealing Sukuna's shirts to replace your own. 
Touka, your little one, mewled from her spot smooshed between her parents. Sukuna sighed as he pulled back to look down at her, hoping she'd take most the heat off of him when he faced his grandfather again. 
“Let's just get this over with.” 
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Yuuji was the one who answered the door. He lived with Wasuke, claiming it was just easier and cheaper than getting his own place, but most knew the younger was a worry wart; he couldn't stand by and let his grandfather get put in a home or quietly tough out everyday life on his own in his elderly years. Yuuji stayed for the sake of family, and Wasuke quietly welcomed it. His brother's goodness nearly struck Sukuna with guilt. 
But any chance at guilt died the moment he met the old bastard's stony gaze. 
“Itadori-san,” you cooed pleasantly, a far cry from the demon that'd keyed Sukuna's car. “It's good to see you again.” 
Wasuke quirked a brow and walked up to you, nudging Yuuji aside so he could get a good look at you and the pup nestled to your chest. Sukuna took a breath and looked away. He didn't need to see the critical stare of the old man while he processed the fact that Sukuna had indeed not stayed away from you. Ugh, the idea of being scolded made the alpha itch. 
“We're far beyond honorifics, boy. You know that,” Wasuke lightly scolded, and you beamed. Sukuna could imagine a little shiba inu tail on you, wagging fast enough to take flight. “I'm glad to see you in one piece after taming my grandson. It must've been a damn ordeal.”
Yuuji cackled impishly, pointing at Sukuna. “Oooh, burn.” 
“Sorry, who got the omega in the end?” Sukuna quipped back, making Yuuji sprout a grumpy look and cross his arms with a mumbled you suck. 
“Quit the fighting and come in,” Wasuke ushered. “And you,” he snapped, looking at Sukuna with chronic disapproval, “Take off those sunglasses. You're trying too hard. Look like an idiot.”
You stifled your laughter as Sukuna grumbled and plucked his shades off. His very cool, very neat, very fancy, very expensive shades.
Wasuke ushered you all inside, gesturing to the kotatsu prepared with food and drinks and starting off on a grumbling rant about the shitty cold mornings and warm afternoons that came with Spring. Obviously, he'd complained to break the ice, and it worked. 
Small talk turned into easier conversation. Whenever Sukuna seemed to struggle with being cordial, you would lean into him more, squeezing his hand tightly whilst purring under the radar. That worked, too. As much as Sukuna was an asshole, he didn't want the afternoon to fall apart. Better he stay quieter than say something to regret. 
“They've calmed you down,” Wasuke said, snapping Sukuna's mind to attention. It was then that he finally noticed Yuuji had effectively kidnapped little Touka and was giving her a tour of the house like she actually gave a shit. 
“Hm?” He grunted, so eloquent. 
You rolled your eyes and shook your head, leaning into your partner more with a sigh. “Words, not grunts, Sukuna.”
He huffed. “You grunt at me all the damn time.” 
“Not at our elders.” 
“Tch.” Sukuna rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Whaddaya mean they've calmed me down, huh?” 
Wasuke, for once, looked somewhat amused. “Your pup. Your mate. They've made you human.” 
“Ha? You're actin’ like I was some four-armed, two-faced freak or some shit.” 
“Some days you acted like it,” Wasuke scoffed. “Doesn't matter if you agree or not, I can see the change in you, kid–that wild thing inside of you is finally settling down.”
You hummed and looked up at him. “I've noticed, too. You're less pissy. More tolerant. Still annoying, but that's just a personality flaw.” Sukuna growled and nipped at you, but you faced him so very bravely and suffered no such nip. 
“I'm glad for you, kid,” Wasuke interjected, breaking up the petty fight that was about to go down. The two of you looked back to the eldest. “You were a real pain in the ass, and you fucked up a lot along the way, but you made things work out. You should be proud.” 
Sukuna would never be able to put his feelings, the utter rush he felt getting his grandfather's approval, into words. 
“So where does this end, kid?” Wasuke asked. 
“What?” He asked before he could properly think it through. 
“This life. Your ‘profession.’ How long're you gonna keep that up, huh?” 
Sukuna could feel you lean into him more, letting more body weight ease your shared worries about the life you shared and the professions you'd taken up. Both unpredictable. Both in the crosshairs of dangerous beasts.
“You think we'll end up six feet under like mom ‘n dad, that it?” Sukuna rasped. He looped an arm around your waist and squeezed you against his side in reassurance as Wasuke's expression grew gloomier.
“You're more like your mother than you know, kid. You don't–”
“‘Course I don't know,” Sukuna interrupted, firm but not vicious. “Mom was a fucking moron ‘n knocked up whoever the fuck she could to get an in into one of those big-name clans. No shit they'd get pissed off and kill the bitch.” 
Wasuke scowled, but didn't argue. It was hard to when his daughter in-law was in the wrong, when she dug her own grave with every child sired before slipping and falling in on her own. A sad story. An incredibly stupid one, too. 
“That won't happen,” you offered mildly. Sukuna looked down at you, suddenly feeling the urge to shoot another baby into you as you spoke up on your own. “I trust Sukuna as much as I trust myself; he's worked hard to create an untouchable empire, and I have the connections to supplement it.” You glanced up at him. “If it's not Sukuna, then it'll be someone else running Tokyo. I couldn't think of a better king.”
A beat of silence passed before Wasuke asked, “And you, kid?” You afraid? 
Sukuna willed his mind out of R-rated territory to look at his grandfather. “You know me,” he started with a troublesome grin, “I can't stay away from what I want.” 
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