#like he’s been alive for so long lol everything is the same to him | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ikigaisvt · 1 month

Text

quiet love

in which your boyfriend vernon likes showing his love for you in a quiet way.

pairing: vernon x f!reader words count: 2k content: childhood bestfriends to lovers, fluff, domestic warnings: so soft but very corny, contains pretty common prompts imo, vernon's love language is not words of affirmation lol, implied that kids are mean to vernon, mention of driving, drinking, loss and exes, reader is sick at one point (the flu), a lot of food/eating talk, they are so healthy youre gonna throw up, soooo much physical affection they make me SICK (holding hands, kissing, playing with each other's hairs, hugging etc), babe/baby petnames note: omg im alive?!?!? hiii!! it's been so long since i posted a fic! this one is a birthday gift for the loml @vcrnons <3 happy birthday, u know it all already but don't forget i love u sm!!! i hope you enjoy this childhoodbff!vernon (it's ur thing) who's very very in love but very very shy to say it. hope anyone else who sees this fic enjoy too! don't forget to interact with this if u liked it, rbs are very very very appreciated! thank u<3 (also this was proofread by tired me so if there is any mistakes, ignore it pls thanks <3)

Vernon has always been a man of a few words; when you first met him in elementary school, he was the quiet boy and nothing could get him to speak apart from spinning tops and his favorite cartoons. Still, you decided to befriend that calm boy – at the time, people used to think you were only being nice but deep down you knew: you were making a friend for life.

Going through all of the different steps of childhood and teenage hood with Vernon by your side was an experience – you raised hell together, driving your parents crazy. But it was also having a best friend to experience each other’s every first times: first partners, first time driving, first time getting drunk but also first breakup, first bad haircut and first loss. You have seen each other through everything. No, you have watched over each other through everything; wherever you were, Vernon was standing two steps back, making sure you were always safe. And wherever he was, you were always standing two steps back, making sure he was always loved.

And that’s how you both fell in love. It was slow and secure; falling in love with Vernon was never complicated or painful. It was how things dropped into place and none of you ever denied it; at the time you knew you were meant to be – maybe you always did. And so, you let yourself fall into each other’s arms, a safe place, full of quiet love.

You were 24 years old when Vernon first wanted to tell you he loved you; yet, he didn’t have the courage to fess up. Having spent his whole life showing his love through actions, he had a hard time saying it out loud. After a nice date to the cinema and the restaurant, he drove you back home, small talk and look exchanged during the trip. As soon as he puts the car in park, he reaches out to hold your hand, his thumb drawing circles.

“Had a nice time tonight?” he asks.

“Of course I did,” you answer, a blush creeping on your cheeks, “You know I always do with you,” you add, reaching out to cup his cheek.

“You need to go, you have an early day tomorrow,” he tells you, kissing your palm.

“Yeah, I’m going,” you say as you reach down for your bag and open the door, “Let me know when you’re home, okay?”

“Of course,” he says as he holds your face between his hand, “You do the same,” he adds against your lips before kissing you softly.

“It’s literally two steps away, I’m already home,” you chuckle as you exit the car.

“Won’t leave until I get the text, babe,” he smiles as he leans over the center console to look at you.

You roll your eyes sarcastically at him but still, your lips go up into a smile as your cheeks reddens from the way he so apologetically loves and cares for you. This boy would do anything to make sure you see how much he adores you. So, you wave him goodbye and it’s only when you close your front door and his phone buzzes with an i’m home :) drive safe, text me xx that you hear him drive off.

The second time he almost confessed to loving you was when you were 25. You had just gotten over an awful flu that got you bed ridden for days, unable to go on with your schedule as you normally would. You were sleeping the sickness off for hours on end, only waking up when Vernon knocked on your door to check up on you. Honestly, he knew it was only the flu, but he was so scared for you; in his eyes, you always appeared as the strongest women on earth so seeing you so weak and tired pulled at his heartstrings. He thought about confessing his undying love as you were blowing your nose – maybe it will magically heal her, he thought one night. But deep down he knew you needed someone to help you out physically and so, he did. He had taken such good care of you; he kept your home clean, did the laundry and helped you out to the shower if needed. He had thought about doing the cooking but he knew his poor skills wouldn’t get you to eat at all. So, even if you couldn’t finish your plates, he had ordered your favorite meals all week, even if he didn’t really like some of those.

It's been a few days since you last had a fever, so even if you were still blowing your nose and coughing a little bit, you could still get out of bed and hang out with Vernon. You two decided to have an at-home date, ordering your favorite meals and watching the show you recently started together. Since you were less sick you could finally finish your plate and eat more than usual; even after finishing your food, your stomach was still grumbling.

“I’m still hungry,” you whisper to yourself, not thinking Vernon would hear you.

“Yeah?” he asks, still looking at the TV as he holds a spoon full of food in the air, “Want a bite?” he says as he looks at you.

“Is that okay?” you ask, not wanting to take away his favorite food. Even when you were sick, you saw how Vernon only ordered your favorite foods – he deserved to have every bite of his favorite dish.

“Of course it is!” he smiles at you, extending his spoon in front of you, “You like it?” he asks, waiting for your nods of approval.

You nod enthusiastically, giving him a thumbs up with a smile, “That’s so good!” you exclaim before Vernon reaches for your plate. You look at him, wondering what he is up to before you see him fill your empty plate with more than half of his meal, “No, no, no,” you say, trying to reach for it as Vernon puts it out of reach from you.

“You need to eat, babe,” he says as he puts the dish on your lap, “Go on,” he smiles, patting your head before turning his attention back to his almost finished meal and the tv.

You smile down, cheeks red from your boyfriend’s attention. You notice how he gave you the tastier part of his dish – meat, veggies and a lot of gravy with a good amount of rice – and he kept most of the rice and only a piece of meat for himself. You start to eat happily, re-adjusting your position on the sofa to be closer to him. It might have been a year and a half since you started dating with no I love you’s said, but you know this is how he shows he loves you. And that is enough for you – it will always be.

It's now been two years since you started dating Vernon; you’re 26 years old, living with your boyfriend, your two cats and waking up every day with the love of your life next to you. Life is beautiful and you could not ask for more. To celebrate your anniversary with Vernon, you planned a trip to your hometown - only a 1 hour-drive from home – so you can have your date where you first kissed: at the cinema. If someone told Vernon he would one day ignore a movie to give his attention to a human being, he would have laughed at their face. But here he is. Countless of movies and shows watched with you right there, next to him, and yet you always steal his gaze away from the screen. You are just so beautiful, he thinks to himself. And when he sees you, laughing at a stupid joke from a character, he smiles with you. Not because the joke is funny, no, but because he cannot watch you without his heart filling up and his feelings pouring out onto his lips. He knew since he woke up that day, on your 2 years anniversary, that he would say it. It had been on the tip of his tongue since the first time he saw you in elementary school, smiling at everyone and saving bugs, but he always held it back. He thought it would be too soon, too fast, too much – but how can love ever be those things? he realized recently. He had said I love you a thousand times already through his actions, he had said he loved you out loud to his friends, his family, his cats. He thought now was the time you should hear it. So, all day, his head was in the clouds, thinking how to bring this up, how to say I’m in love with you to his soulmate. It happens when you pull him into your apartment at 1 am, your anniversary already over. You both get rid of your shoes, the tiredness of the day finally falling on your shoulders, before you pull him into you for a hug. Your arms stay at his waist, his heart going thump, thump, thump against yours as his cheek rest on the crown of your head.

“Gonna let you go to sleep,” you mumble against his shirt before letting him go, “I’m gonna shower.”

“Hey- babe,” he says softly to get your attention, his hand wrapping around your wrist, “need to tell you something,” he tells you as you’re pulled back against his chest, hands on his front as one of his rest on your waist, the other one covering your cheek.

“Everything’s okay?” you ask, rubbing circle on the fabric of his shirt.

“Yeah, everything’s good,” he whispers, his eyes going down to look at your lips and up again, “You’re pretty,” he speaks under his breath, a blush making its way on your cheeks – and his.

“Thank you,” you smile as you reach for his neck, pulling him down for a kiss, “You’re not so bad yourself,” you whisper against his lips.

He holds onto your cheeks, your foreheads resting against each other, “I love you,” he murmurs so low you think you made it up but as you open your eyes and see tears in his own, you know this is nothing but real life.

“Oh,” you gasp softly, taken aback, “I love you too,” you say, smiling up at the love of your life.

“I know this was long overdue and I’m sorry it took me so long-“ he starts to babble, uneasiness bubbling in his chest before you cut him off with a kiss.

“It’s okay,” you whisper, playing with the hair at his nape, “To me, you’ve said it a thousand times,” you reassure him as he blushes, chuckling softly at how you always find the right words for him, “But a thousand more wouldn’t hurt,” you tease slightly, making him snort.

“I love you,” he repeats, his arms wrapping around your shoulders as yours find a resting place at his waist, rubbing his back over his shirt.

“Again,” you say with a smile in your voice before kissing his chest in an I love you too.

“I love you,” he says against your hair, his hands making its way under the straps of your dress.

“Again,” you ask him, never getting enough of these words flowing out of his lips.

“I love you,” he whispers against the shell of your ear, leaving a kiss behind, “so much.”

“I’ll never get tired of hearing this,” you whisper, your hands meeting the end of his shirt, “I love you,” you say as you touch his bare back.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” he says like a mantra, “I’d unlearn any other words so all you could hear is my love for you,” he whispers, his eyes meeting yours, before your lips collide – just like your worlds did so many years ago.

You’ve always found reassurance in this quiet love you and Vernon were giving each other – but maybe you liked your love being a little louder sometimes.

thank u for reading! hope you enjoyed hehe <3

#sammy's works #j<3 #seventeen 💌#seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen reactions #seventeen fluff #svt scenarios #svt x reader #svt imagines #svt reactions #svt fluff #vernon scenarios #vernon x reader #vernon imagines #vernon fluff

725 notes · View notes

ladyinwriting18 · 4 months

Text

A Loyal Death Eater (Severus Snape x Reader)

Summary: Severus comes home to find he's been left a gift from The Dark Lord--you.

Words: 4901 Warnings: PIV, Human Given As A Gift, Master/Servant, Pet Names, Fingering, Oral Male Receiving, Dirty Talk. Author's Note: Hiiii if you know me then welcome back--WILL I EVER STICK TO ONE FANDOM TO WRITE FOR? The answer is no lol If this is your first time reading my writing then welcome! I hope you enjoy my first ever Snape one-shot!

Severus Snape is tired. So very tired. Tired of living this double life. Death Eater. The Order. Following Dumblerdor’s orders. Secretly protecting Harry. Funneling particular information to Voldemort for the sake of keeping up appearances. All while teaching potions. The vein in his temple throbs at the mere thought of his students. He doesn’t want to think about them now. He doesn't want to think about anything. All Severus Snape wants is to bury his face into a pillow. And that’s exactly his plan as he walks into his home and heads up the stairs towards his room... That is until he notices the piece of parchment stuck to the bedroom door. He’s immediately on high alert. Tension has his spine straight and his shoulders up by his ears. With his wand drawn, he creeps closer, ready to hex whatever intruder has managed to sneak into his home. But the signature at the bottom gives him pause. Why the hell was The Dark Lord leaving him handwritten notes? Dark eyes scan the entire letter. “To my most loyal Death Eater. I’ve left you a gift. A reward for all of your hard work. Use it however you wish and dispose of it when you’re done with it.” Severus raises a brow. It? What exactly was waiting for him on the other side of the door?

There was only one way to find out. With a heavy sigh, he pushes open the door, but what he finds stops him dead in his tracks. A woman sits kneeling on the floor beside his bed. Your head is bowed with your hands placed palms up atop your thighs. But the most shocking thing is that you’re completely naked except for a black and green garter belt on your right thigh. “What is the meaning of this?” he commands, still in a mild state of shock at the scene before him. You, however, do not stir, keeping your body still. “Hello, Master. It is a pleasure to meet you. How may I serve you tonight?” Your voice is warm…feminine…inviting. It draws Severus in and has him stepping into the room. But the closer he gets to you, the more your words sink in. “Forgive me…serve me?” You nod. “Yes, Master. I belong to you now. For as long as you want me.” The realization hits him like a bludger to the face. “You’re…my gift.” You nod again. “From the Dark Lord.” “And why would the Dark Lord send me a human as a gift?” The disgust in his voice isn’t directed at you, but you respond nonetheless. “To use as you see fit. I am yours and any desire my Master has is mine to fulfill.” He doesn’t know a single soul alive or dead who wouldn’t be tempted by such an offer. And though his heart had been lowered into the ground on the same day that Lily’s body was, he is still a man. A man with needs that he hasn’t even dreamt of allowing himself to feel. He’s standing directly in front of you now. “Look at me,” he commands You eagerly obey, and look up at him with large doe eyes. You stare at him with your gaze filled with willingness. He searches your eyes, attempting to find even an ounce of fear or disgust but finds nothing but devotion. As if you truly want nothing more than to serve.

His mouth goes dry and all of his body’s blood supply seems to be traveling south to his cock. This is wrong. Who knows what the Dark Lord had threatened you with…or where he had stolen you from. But everything about you screams submission. It awakens a darker side of himself. One that he hasn’t felt stirring since he was a young, newly appointed Death Eater. Back then Lucius Malfoy would hire girls and throw secret parties down in the dungeons below his estate. It was at these “parties” that Severus found his proclivity for knots…and magically binding girls to the ceiling so he could fuck them until they were begging to cum. It’s a time that he wishes he could scrub clean. Not only from his mind but from the history books of his life. Shame had accompanied him at those parties because he knew this was a part of him that he couldn’t share with Lilly. Even if James Potter had never been in the picture and Lilly had somehow been his. She was too lovely and sweet for that sort of depravity. She would have never enjoyed such things. And he would never— “Master?” Your voice pulls him from his thoughts, his eyes focusing back on you just as you reach out to take his hand. Your grip is so light, almost as if you’re worried your touch will offend him. “I want to please you. Want to give you whatever it is you need. Please? All I want is to be a good girl for you.” A good girl. His cock throbs. How you knew exactly what to say, baffles him. Perhaps you were a skilled Legilimens—allowing you a peek into his thoughts. Either way, you said the phrase that never failed to stop him in his tracks. He grips your hand more firmly and lets his other move to your cheek—to see if you’ll flinch at his touch. But, bloody hell, you lean into his palm and press your lips to the pad of his thumb. Never once averting your gaze. He lets out a breath that he wasn’t aware he was holding. You’re all his. “You said you’ll fulfill any request?” His thumb grazes over your bottom lip, opening it to reveal the tiniest bit of the inside of your mouth. “Anything,” you concur. His mind races with endless possibilities. He hasn’t tapped into this part of himself in years. It makes him antsy to claim you. But Severus Snape is not a rash man. He does not allow his emotions to make him sloppy. He is cunning and calculating. And more importantly, he knows exactly how he’ll have you prove yourself. He slides his foot forward, placing his black leather dress shoe in front of you. “Kiss it.” Immediately, you obey, positioning yourself on all fours before leaning down to press your lips to the tip. But you don’t stop there. In fact, you cover the entire top of his shoe with kisses. With each kiss, you let out a soft, sweet noise–as if this act of obedience is actually bringing you pleasure.

Severus lets out a rough command, “Don’t stop.” You don’t, lowering your upper body further onto the floor, but purposely keeping your hips in the air to showcase the curve of your ass. Your kisses turn to licks, making the top of his boot glisten with your spit. The sight of both almost makes him lose control. “Keep going,” he says through clenched teeth, feeling his cock pulsing within the constraints of his pants. You pull your torso off the floor, moving closer to him so you can start kissing and nuzzling your way up the length of his leg. Not once do you break eye contact. You look at him without fear, without disgust, without judgment.

It's an unusual occurrence for him. He’s used to his students being intimidated by the mere mention of his name. Even in his school days, he had never been known as a looker. But this is different. You are different. You look at him with reverence and lust while you continue your path up his leg. However, once you reach his groin, you stop and sit back on your heels. You return to your earlier position, with your feet tucked under you and your hands resting palms up atop your knees. You’re so submissive. It’s perfection. “You’re waiting for my command, aren’t you?” he asks, moving his hand to hover over the bulge in his pants.

Your eyes dart at the movement of his hand that’s now slowly rubbing his erection through his pants. You seem transfixed but still manage to reply.

“Yes, Master. I’m your property. My sole purpose is to please you.”

“My property?” he breathes, freeing his aching cock from his trousers.

He watches with satisfaction when your eyes widen at the sight of it.

You only nod, too busy watching as he starts to slowly stroke the shaft of his cock. He does this more to tease you than for his own pleasure. It clearly works because you fidget ever so slightly. “You’re my property,” he repeats, louder to refocus you. “My beautiful…little good girl.” Severus pants between words, stroking himself with a firmer grip.

“Yes, Master,” you moan with a lick of your lips. “I’m your good girl.”

“Then prove it by sucking your Master’s cock.”

You almost take him by surprise with how fast you rise onto your knees. Gently, you nudge his hand away before wrapping your own around the base of his cock. You hold eye contact with him while tracing your tongue over the veins in his shaft. “You taste so good,” you moan out and drag your tongue along the underside until you reach the tip. You clearly know what you’re doing. Severus swears his heart beats in time with the flicking of your tongue. Your hand and mouth work simultaneously—tugging firmly while playfully licking. That is until your hand falls away so you can swallow his cock whole. “Bloody hell,” he swears, involuntarily bucking his hips forward.

Pleased by his reaction, you hum and tighten your lips around him as you pick up your pace, bobbing your head up and down while sucking him off. He watches you intently. His dark brown eyes burn almost black as you suck him off like your life depended on it. “The good girl is enjoying this, isn’t she?” he hotly whispers, cock stiffening in your mouth. You nod with a mischievous twinkle in your eye. The sounds of you slurping and sucking with such passion sends Severus into a frenzy. His fingers twitch with the need to touch you. Your mouth is warm and so fucking inviting, like his cock was always meant to be there. He wants…no—needs more. No longer able to keep his hands to himself, Severus’ hand grips the back of your head. Long, nimble fingers tangle within the locks of your hair and start to move you up and down at just the right pace. Obeying his physical commands, you allow him to fuck your mouth while you drool all over him. So much so that he can feel saliva dripping onto his balls. Fuck you were messy. He loves it. Almost too much. But you’re looking at him with an affectionate gaze and it only makes him want more. Both of his hands grip onto your head, thrusting his hips forward so he could slam his cock into your throat. Your hands grab his thighs to try to hold yourself steady and not gag. “That’s it,” he grunts, “choke on your Master’s cock.” You groan with brows knitting together while saliva drips from the corner of your mouth. Severus would have thought he was being too rough if it wasn’t for your crumpled, pleasure-stricken face. He allows himself a moment to take you all in, wanting to commit you to his memory. So that when you’re gone, he’ll still have this image of you prettily sucking his cock. That’s when he notices you pressing your thighs together. Fire pools within his rib cage. You’re actually getting off on this. On pleasing him. On gagging on him. On obeying him. Suddenly, having you down on your knees isn’t enough. “Stand up,” he commands and forcefully pulls away, slipping his cock from your mouth. You take a moment to catch your breath and wipe the spit from your chin. Wanting to give you time to compose yourself, he keeps himself busy by stripping fully out of his clothing and casting a quick protection and contraceptive spell with a few flicks of his wand. By the time you’re on your feet, he’s standing before you naked. Your eyes run over his form and take a step forward with hands outstretched as if you want to touch. He doesn’t give you the chance. Instead, he places his hands on your shoulders and pushes you backward until your knees hit the side of his bed and you fall back onto the mattress with a surprised yelp. Your gaze shifts, looking at him towering over you with large eyes. He steps forward, nudging your knees apart with his leg. “Be a good girl and open wider for me.” Your knees fall apart, giving him a full view of your cunt.

“You’re so wet,” he breathes, in awe that you’re already dripping when he hasn’t so much as touched you. Calloused fingertips run up your inner thighs. The skin there is tender so you shiver until they make contact with your cunt and a chorus of sweet melodies leave your parted lips. You greedily grind into his touch, already wanting more. With a grin, he enjoys himself as he plays with you. He prods your opening and watches your eyelids flutter close. “What a needy cunt you have.” He means it as a compliment, but it’s laced with a snark that’s meant to embarrass you. It works, color flushing over your cheeks. “It’s your cunt now, Master. All of me is yours.” It’s clear that being owned is a massive turn-on for you. And if he’s honest, he’s more than happy to play this game. “That’s right,” he breathes, fingers tracing up towards your clit. “Every inch of you is mine. Including your clit.” He applies pressure to the sensitive bud, causing you to whine and twitch. You nearly come undone from how skillfully he draws circles on your clit. But every time you buck your hips forward, his fingers move away. “More Master. Please, give me more.” You whine and twitch, pleading sweetly. So sweetly that it’s impossible for him to continue teasing you. His fingers move to your entrance, and he plunges them inside your tightness. You cry out in surprise, both hands grabbing ahold of the arm pressed between your thighs. His fingers are long and thick, moving in and out in slick quick thrusts. He finger fucks you mercilessly and you love it.

You toss your head back, mouth falling open wide as you moan towards the ceiling.

Severus leans in, caging you beneath his body, and nuzzles his nose along the side of your face. His body is pressed against yours now and you gasp at the feeling of his hard cock leaking precum on your thigh. “Master…” you whimper, and he chuckles before whispering hotly into your ear. “This belongs to me as well. This tight dripping cunt is mine. Is that understood?” he asks while picking up the pace of his fingers. You struggle to respond, tripping over your words but he doesn’t relent—wanting you to work through the pleasure. “Y-Yes. Yes, Master! I-I understand.” He hums his praise, calling you a good girl before falling silent. For the next few minutes, the only sounds heard are the sounds of your desperate cries and the wet squelching sounds of your cunt. Your orgasm is drawing closer, threatening to take you over. “I…I’m going to–” But your words aren’t needed because Severus knows what a woman looks like before she’s about to cum. “I know, sweet thing,” he cuts you off, looking at you and holding eye contact. “But cumming for me is a privilege. One you must ask for.” You nod your head, gripping his arm tighter, “May I cum? Please let me cum for my Master?” With a proud grin, he says the three most glorious words. “Cum for me.” The permission is all you need, the cord inside you snapping.

Your body goes rigid and your ability to speak is replaced with breathy, unrestrained moans. Your orgasm hits you hard, but it’s only when you limply slump back onto the mattress that he carefully removes his fingers from you. They’re soaked in your juices. Severus suddenly finds himself very parched. You’re looking up at him with a flushed face and glossed-over eyes but are clearly too focused on catching your breath. So, he lets you watch as he brings his fingers to his mouth to suck them clean. You make a noise of surprise, mesmerized by his mouth. Satisfied with this small taste of you, he releases his fingers with a soft ‘pop’. “Mmmh, delicious.” “I’m glad Master thinks so. Thank you for letting me cum,” you murmur politely.

And just when he thought you couldn’t be any more perfect. Sitting beside you on the bed, he grabs your upper arms and hauls you towards him. He crashes his lips onto yours, forcing his tongue inside of your mouth. You return the kiss in a flurry of passion as your hands begin to roam freely over his body. Starting from his shoulder, you trail your hands down his bare chest to his hip bones. He moans into your mouth, enjoying the feeling of your soft hands and the way you gently suck at his tongue. Your hands continue downward until your fingertips brush against his still very hard cock. He breaks the kiss with a smirk. “Is there something you want, Little One?” You brush your lips against his with a nod. “I want to help my Master to cum.” He can already guess what you’re about to say, but still, Severus tucks a lock of hair behind your ear and whispers, “And how do you plan to do that?” “However you’d like me to.” Your answer is immediate but something tells him it isn’t the entire truth. His fingers grip your jaw, tilting it so you’re forced to maintain eye contact with him. “Tell me how you want to make your Master cum.” With wide eyes, the truth pours from your mouth like uncorked wine. “My cunt. Please use my cunt.” Your plea is so desperate that he doesn’t waste any more time leaning in closer until you have to shift your position to lay back on the bed. With a nudge to your thighs, your legs part to accommodate him as he places a hand beside your head, trapping you beneath him. He’s settled between your thighs now with his cock pressed against your core. You moan in unison at the contact. As if it’s painful for both of you to not have him buried inside.

Your hands run from his forearms, over his shoulders, and down his chest. “Take me, please. Let me feel my Master’s cock inside.”

He straightens his back and guides your legs to wrap around his waist fully. You continue to plead, but instead of giving you a verbal reply, he plunges balls deep inside of you. You both instantly tense. He, because of the tightness of your walls clinging around him, and you, because of the sudden intrusion of his cock demanding to be taken. “That’s it. Taking me so well,” he breathlessly praises, slowly moving out, then back in so you’d have time to adjust. Severus had always refused to inflict pain on his partners that they hadn’t consented to and begged for. And he isn’t about to start now. So he waits until he feels you relax.

Your head lulls to the side with a moan, feeling beyond stuffed full, but also whole.

You coo, arching into him. Severus knew he couldn’t keep his movements slow for much longer.

“Is this what you want? To be fucked until I own this cunt?” “Yes!” you whine, starting to grind your hips in an attempt to get his cock deeper. “I want my Master to ruin me for anyone else.” It’s the word ruin that does him in. Unable to wait any longer he slams into you. You yelp, grabbing ahold of his forearms and sinking your nails into his flesh. The slight bite of pain only spurs him on, his pace anything but slow. The rough and steady rhythm of his thrusts has you already clenching around him.

He isn’t sure where to look. At your beautiful face scrunched up in pleasure, or at your cunt that’s currently swallowing him whole. You toss your head back, slightly obscuring you from his view. So he settles his gaze downward–watching how his cock glistens from your juices every time he pulls out. It’s an intoxicating sight.

One that threatens to force him to spill himself inside of you. But he won’t. Not yet. Not until he’s done enjoying you for a bit longer. Not until he can make you cum again. He grabs some of your hair and tugs so you’re forced to look back at him. “You love this, don’t you? Using your cunt to please me?” Your legs wrap even tighter around his waist, drawing closer…deeper. “Yes, Master! Feels so good pleasing you!” Pressure builds in your lower belly from the orgasm that’s steadily approaching. It feels like he’s everywhere. In you. On you. All over you. “M-Master I—so close. P-Please.”

You’re struggling to form words but he already knows what you’re trying to say. He reaches between your bodies to your clit and rubs it, strokes it, and draws circles on it until he finds the touch that has you babbling in broken, indecipherable sentences.

“I want you to cum,” he speaks in labored breaths, teasing your clit while still spearing you on his length. “I want you to cum for me now.”

For a moment, you fall completely silent, but then it hits. The unfiltered, beautiful howls that accompany your climax. All the while, your inner walls close around him in the most delicious way. He curses, lurching forward as you gush and spasm around him. It’s too much, and he’s quickly following you over the edge, filling you with his cum. You both tremble through your aftershocks, unable to detangle from one another while coming down from your highs. He feels like a new man after cumming for the first time in God knows how long. But one look at you and your sleep-heavy eyes has him focusing on steadying his breathing faster. Memories from his past return to him, and words like aftercare play through his mind. It displeases him that he doesn’t know what you require right now—space or intimacy? Deciding it’s best to take the middle ground, he slowly slips out of you but sits on the edge of the bed beside you. He takes the utmost care not to jostle you but you don’t seem to notice because you’ve already turned onto your side facing him. You make yourself comfortable, curling up with your eyes closed and a relaxed smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. Relieved, he lets out a breath and runs his hand through his dark locks to move it off his face. “That felt amazing. Thank you, Master,” you mumble happily into his pillow. “Call me Severus.” “As you wish, Master Severus.” A spark of warmth emanates from his chest. He likes the way you say his name. It makes him feel things. He reaches for you, tugging you into his arms to help you sit up. At first, you whine, but relax when he pulls you to sit between his thighs and leans you against his chest. He holds you close and whispers, “Will you tell me your name?” You peek up at him with a smile and say it. He repeats it, liking the way your name rolls off his tongue. You nod, your smile widening across your face. He can’t stop himself from stroking your cheek. “I’ll be right back.” He stands, making his way over to his wardrobe. “Get yourself ready for bed, Little One.” He calls from over his shoulder as he uses his wand for a simple cleansing spell. Since you’ve managed to coat even his balls in your slick.

Afterward, he slips on a pair of black silk pajama pants. He’s about to put a shirt on when he turns back to you, expecting to find you dressed, but instead, he finds you sitting on his bed and watching him. “Where are your night robes?” You fidget uncomfortably, looking away. Severus should have known this wouldn’t last. He tries to disguise his disappointment but fails. “If you don’t wish to stay, then just say so.” The ice in his voice is evident and you snap your head up in his direction. “I-It’s not that!” you protest. “I want to stay. I just…don’t have any clothes.” His frown deepens, “The Dark Lord didn’t leave your clothes here for you?” You shake your head ‘no’. This only confuses him further. To have you waiting for him nude was clearly meant to entice him, but to leave you with nothing to wear after doesn’t make sense. “No personal belongings at all? I don’t understand how he expected you to get home after this.” You flinch, once again looking away. “He said…” you trail off. “Never mind, Master.” He didn’t need spells or potions to see the discomfort radiating off of you. With the long-sleeved shirt he had intended for himself in hand, he makes his way over to you. Of course, he could have simply conjured you some clothing, but if he’s being honest with himself— He wants you wrapped up in him for a while longer. “Arms up.”

You lift your head and see the shirt in his hands. You obey, and he slips the shirt over your head to help you dress. “It’s a tad big on you, but it will do until morning.” You pull your knees to your chest while muttering a ‘thank you’. There’s still something bothering you and Severus is determined to figure out what it is. “Look at me,” he commands, knowing you’ll obey. When you do, he continues, “Tell your Master what’s bothering you.” Perhaps it isn’t right for him to pull the ‘dom’ card when you aren’t technically his submissive, but he needs the truth. You stall for a little longer, gnawing on your bottom lip until you finally respond, “The Dark Lord told me that I didn’t need to pack any of my things because he didn’t believe you’d want me after you were through with me.” “I see…What else did the Dark Lord tell you?”

“That I belong to whoever comes into the room, and that I was to serve them until they no longer had use for me. Which he predicted would be just for tonight…Then he–” You falter, bravery abandoning you. He lets out a breath, resisting the urge to scrub at his eyes. Of course, he had threatened you. Placing a finger underneath your chin, he gently raises it. Your eyes flutter, struggling to meet his gaze. “You’re afraid of him, aren’t you?” You only nod. “You have my word that you’re under my protection now. Do you understand?” You nod again and summon your bravery so you can continue. “Then he said that maybe he would pass me around to the other Death Eaters or maybe he’d use me himself.” Severus can’t explain the jealousy that boils within him. But it’s there. Hot and nauseating. Suddenly, he can’t bear the thought of another having you. Not Voldemort. Not anyone. “No one is allowed to touch what’s mine.” The threat of his words hangs in the air, but you look relieved. “You…You mean you’ll keep me here with you?” He hadn’t realized he had said that aloud. Honestly, he hadn’t thought that far ahead. All he knew was that the only hands he wanted on you were his. “Is that…something you’d want?” You smile bright, brighter than the summer’s sun. “Nothing would make me happier, Master.” As beautiful as you are, and as lovely as it sounds to have a warm cunt to bury himself in each night, the cold blade of reality cuts through. “Listen to me, there are still many things we’ll need to discuss—”But you aren’t listening because you’re too busy crawling into his lap. You straddle him and nuzzle your face into the side of his neck.

“Thank you, Severus,” you whisper against his skin, melting against his body as you make yourself comfortable.

No one has ever thanked him in his entire life. He isn’t sure how to handle it.

The longer you lay against him, the more a warmth blooms inside his breastbone.

He can’t deny how good it feels to have you close.

Things can’t be this simple can they?

Nothing in his life had ever been simple.

You let out a small sigh, seemingly starting to fall asleep while sitting up. It tears him from his thoughts and instead has him worried about your comfort. He shifts and lays down on the bed with you still tucked into his chest.

He had no way of knowing if this would work, but bloody hell did you fit perfectly against him.

Years of tension seemingly start to melt away as sleep threatens to take him over.

Voldemort had given you to him for being his most loyal Death Eater.

And while nothing could be further from the truth, Severus Snape can’t help but think.

This was the best damn present he’d ever received.

#lady in writing #Severus Snape #severus x reader #severus snape smut #snape fandom #professor snape #alan rickman

382 notes · View notes

at1nys-blog · 8 months

Text

Some stories gets told: The start

Pairing: OPLA!Roronoa Zoro x reader

Summary: After the duel with Mihawk, reader can't seem to leave Zoro's side while he is fighting between staying alive and reaching for an old friend

A/N: the way I am putting so much efforts in this is crazy, literally watching scenes in loop to understand how to add things and if they actually work in the original setting of the live action. I mentioned de@th a couple of times but briefly considering how long this is getting. Created a new village on Gecko Island for the sake of this ff Miro Village does not exists in the world of one piece, if it does I'm a lucky mf lol.

Pt.1\Masterlist\\Pt.2

If three days ago people would have told her she was going to fight Kalahadore and his minions, she would have laughed at her faces; if three days ago people would have told her she was going to enjoy a trio of wanna be pirates she would have laughed it off saying that the only crew she was going to join was the same as Yasopp's; if three days ago people would have told her that she was going to face one of her greatest fears, she would have joked about it, but there she was after a fight with Kaya's butler in the company of three wanna be pirates.

The bar was filled with pirates and some Marines, or so she thought. Her blurry vision was not of help, everyone dressed in blue or white, or white and blue, was a possible enemy that was waiting for the right time to strick an attack and bring them back to headquarters.

-...sea slug.-she heard the swordsman say, confused to why he was talking about sea slug, which, by the way, she thought were very cute, she asked for some explanations. Nami only pointed at Usopp, dancing with his usual grace and talent, if that could even be called grace or talent.

-Look at him. Like he doesn't have a care in the world.- the orange haired girl stated, she wanted to replay, to say that in reality Usopp was just putting on a facade, but who was she to spill secrets that were not of her owns? No one, so she just kept quite and went back to her drink. A not well made one on her humble opinion, but at least she was able to drink and have fun.

The girl, once again that night, went back into her own thoughts forgetting she was in company but even if she wanted to have a conversation with the two in her heart she knew it wasn't a good idea. Not when drunk and knowing such state meant spilling everything that was on her mind.

-..you drink.- that was the key word that got her attention, if drinking was in the equation she wanted to be part of whatever they were doing. -You guess something about me, I drink.- he said pouring some of the rum in three little glasses.

-uuhhh I want to play.-

-Not now.-they both said in unison.

-First round is between me and the thief.- Zoro said not taking his eyes off of Nami which smirked at the boy.

If her attention was on Usopp and having her drink, now it was on her two new friends having a drinking game.

-I bet yu grew up in a big city, running schemes, hanging out in swanky bars like this one.-Zoro was the first one to try and guess under Nami advice, she gave him a second smirk. Y/N imagines the swordsman got it wrong from how the girl next to her reacted. And she was right.

-You might be thirsty.-Nami said. -I grew up in a small village. Barely a village. Just an handful of houses in the center of a tangerine grove.- Y/N started to picture how beautiful that might have been, that once again her mind alienated her from the conversation.

Y/N didn't know how long she was gone in her little world, but when she was back to reality second round was on, and this time she wanted to partecipate, but aparently the universe didn't want her to play that Usopp came back at the table with "his new best friend" or whatever.

-What did you say your name was again?-he asked sitting next to Nami.

-Which one of you is Monkey D. Luffy?-Y/N noticed Nami trying to get some informations out of the new nameless guy, asking who wanted to know such a question.

-You are Dracule Mihawk.- the name didn't ring any bell to Y/N, she had never heard that name, or at least while she was intoxicated from all the alcohol she had, the name was completely new to her ears.

-I have business with your captain. If you know what's good for you, you'll hand him over.- she noticed the man didn't like to beat around the bush, he just wanted to get to Luffy.

-We don't know anyone named Luffy. Right, guys?- Y/N looked at Nami confused.

-What do you mean we don't know him? He came here with us.- she turned to the elegant dressed man and told him that Monkey D. Luffy was somewhere around the Baratie but she didn't know exactly where.

-You are unbeliavable.-

-What? Is true he was with us and now he is not.- she defended herself, the two of them started to bicker: Nami trying to explain to her friend why she was supposed to lie, but their attention was back at Zoro when they hard him saying Mihawk, was it Mihawk?, she didn't care much, what she cared about was why for the East Blue did he say that the man was going to die the very next day.

In that moment Y/N was sober in an instant, her brain was back to function normally and so her body. She moved forward, motion followed by the girl next to her, she wanted to understand fully what was happening, maybe she heard wrong. Maybe Zoro was just playing around but even if she had known the man for less than a week she could tell he never joked, at least not about somo random guy dying.

-I, Roronoa Zoro, challenge you to a duel to the death.-

-To the what now?- she said as a reflex, it was not like she meant to say out loud but it happens and the fact that Mihawk was staring at her was not helping her nervouness to settle down. The man turned back almost immediatly letting the green haired swordsman know he never heard of him, implying how small of a fly he was in his eyes.

-They call me the Demon Pirate Hunter. But my lifelong dream it to best you in single combat and become the greatest swordsman in the world.- now that is a great dream compared to hers, that just wanted to live numerous adventures and write about them.

Y/N started to second guess if starting such a journey was even worth it, she was surrended by people with amazing dreams, even Usopp had a better dream than hers. She shook the thoughts away, now she had to more important matter to care about.

Once the challenge was accepted and the time was set Mihawk left and she was on her feet in an instant, she tried to say something but the words seemed to be stuck in her throat. She was speechless, Zoro did not just challenged someone that, for what she got from their conversation, is the most powerful and skilled swrodsman out there.

-You just have signed up your death sentence, you idiot.- she said and left to head back to the Going Merry.

Zoro was polishing his swords when Usopp came back with Luffy behind him, Y/N was silently listening to the conversation happening in the room, not really knowing how to handle the situation. Sure wasn't her friend, how could he be after a day they have known each other? But she didn't want him dead already.

Words of the conversation came and didn't so her brain didn't process half of what they had been talking about, she just knew Nami was trying her best to change Zoro's mind.

It was after Luffy and Usopp left the room that Zoro spoke directly to her that night, asking why she was still there.

-The promise.- she had heard that part, his dream was a promise made to someone; he was going to die just for a promise he made in the past. -did you made it to your friend?- he didn't answer but his body language told her everything she wanted to know. -in that case, I hope you are not going to die. Good luck.- she said walking outside ready to go and try to have some good sleep.

Waking up the next morning felt like a task, her head was pouding so much that if she had too many thoughts her head was going to explode in milion pieces for the lack of space. Trying to stand up from her hammock without falling was another task she didn't know how she managed to carry out, her legs feeling like jelly pudding but she managed to stay on her feet and following the boys outside, after wearing a pair of sunglasses.

The duel started and Y/N wanted to go back on the ship. She didn't want to see Zoro lose, she believed Zoro was a strong fighter and very much the most talented swordsman she ever knew but if his opponent had decided to use a tiny sword that looked like more like a knife, there was a high chance his friend was going to die in the worst case scenario.

The first time the weapon inflicted a scar on Zoro, Y/N gasped and hold onto Usopp to not fall butt flat on the ground for the scare it gave her.

-Why don't you retreat?- Mihawk's voice was cold, dry of any type of emotion when he spoke to him.

-I can't.-

-He can't.- a whisper, taken away from the wind in an istant, not Usopp nor Luffy behind her heard what she said and she was glad. She didn't want to explain herself, not right now.

-Or my dream will be lost forever.- and this is when things got for the worse. The swordsman took out Yoru, the sword he carries on his back and there was a fraction of seconds after the collision between the weapons where it felt like time stopped for good. Then the glenging of Zoro's swords hitting the ground broken into pieces. Y/N gasped, holding tighter on her best friend's arm.

The green haired boy sheated his good sword in place, opened his arms to form a T with his whole body. Tension grew in the air, everyone knew what was going to happen.

While the rest of the crew gave a glance towards each other she couldn't. Her eyes, even if weakened by the bright sun rays, couldn't leave the form of the boy that was about to die in a second now.

-ZORO- Luffy was the first to react, in a second the boy with the straw hat was next to his first mate, hoping to not see him dying in his hands. The conversation him and Mihawk had came in and out Y/N ears, she was focused on praying for the boy to not die.

Usopp was next, he run to his friends' side, pulling her with him in the process, she tripped loosing the grip on his best friend and falling on the ground. Nami tried to help her up, asking if she was okay but she was just able to keep silent.

It was just like when she was a kid and her father had died; it was like when she was a little girl and saw his first friend die, it was as if death was following her wherever she was going collecting people she loved one after the other. Her nails became such an important thing to stare at, she couldn't stand the sight of the pirates around Zoro, trying to speak comforting words that he was going to be okay.

He is not going to be okay, she thought, how could he? He had lost already too much blood and the more they were staying there doing nothing the more he was going to be more on the other side.

It was Nami that brought everyone back to reality and started to shout orders left and right. She asked the boys to take Zoro from the arms while she and Y/N would hold him from the legs.

Everything became a race with time, the more they wasted the more likely was for Zoro to die of blood loss. The four of them put him on the table of the kitchen; Usopp started to run around trying to find some towels or everything that could come in handy; Nami checked on the wounds; Luffy started to space out, every type of noise started to fade out and Y/N didn't know what to do, once again in her life she didn't know how to save another life.

-Someone...- the (your hair color) haired girl knew what she had to do, if no one was of any help she had to find someone that could be. She sprinted outside heading back to the resturant, they had to have a doctor or some sort of thing, didn't they? If that was not the case she was just unlucky.

Entering the resturant she clumsly tried to remember where was the kitchen, the place wasn't that big but in her mental state it was going to be hard remembering her own name.

When she found the door she rushed in, getting the chef and waiter's attention. The blond guy smirked, ready to flirt with her but noticing the worried expression on her face he just asked her if everything was fine.

-Nothing is fine.-she catched her breath for a moment. -Zoro got... He has a very pretty bad sword wound we need a doctor.- please tell me there is one on board, please please please. Her eyes were staring at the owner of the establishment and her face dropped when he said that the closest one was two days from there. Just my luck.

-I can't help you. Hope your friend makes it.-

-No, please you have to help us, please. Maybe there is a doctor on...-

-Ehy, where do you think you're going?- she wanted to punch the chef, he was totally ignoring her call of help and cared more where his waiter was going than on the live or death situation she presented him.

-To help her friend.- said Sanji

-Brunch is not gonna prep itself.- he reminded him. She was totally going to punch him if he ignored once again what was happening.

-You always told me to feed anyone who's hungry.- she heard him saying while looking around the room. -I don't see how this is any different.- he added.

The owner of the resturant sighed, realizing that he had no other choice but try and do somethig to help the dying kid.

-Fine. Bring me my kitchen knives and a bottle of our best whiskey. And a fresh yellowtail from the cooler. Bigger the better.-he ordered and started walking outside. Sanji was confused, why would Zeff need a yellowtail? -Just do it already.-

Y/N walked them to the Merry and once she pointed the direction of the kitchen, she let them go in first. She wanted to stay away from there, she didn't want her bad luck to linger over Zeff while he worked on Zoro's wounds.

It had been some time since the two chefs came to stich the swordsman up so when she saw the chef leaving the kitchen she jumped on her feet asking how her friend was doing. Zeff assured her the guy was resting but only time could have told if he was going to live or not.

She walked inside meeting eyes with Usopp, Luffy stop tending on Wado and looked at her, giving the girl a forced smile, and she did the same. She was in no shape for smiling sincerely.

-How is he doing?-her tone was almost inaudible if it wasn't for the lack of noises.

-He is resting now, we are hoping for the best.-Usopp answered, she looked in the direction of Nami's room but then changed her mind. She didn't want for her bad luck to make things worse.

Usopp noticed. He always did. He had know her for a long time now and could read her like an open book. He knew what she had to go through, she had told him, trusting in his vow to not say a thing.

-You can go and talk to him. Maybe he would like to hear from a more gentle voice.- he joked.

-I heard that.- that made her laugh a little and she made a note to herself to thank her best friend for the joke.

-But...-he started again, Y/N stopped him, it was fine. She was going to stay in her room for the time being hoping that everything was going to get better.

-What's up with her?-Asked a worried Sanji looking the girl dissapearing from his view. After she had left the cook tried to get some info out the sniper but the man brushed it off lying that he wished to know as well.

Entering her room she locked herself in, not wanting people in for now, she wished for some alone time.

She went to the little desk and turned on the snail radio searching for a station worth listening to hear. Every station she picked were talking about some piracy activity around the East Blue or the New World, some had music but nothing that was of her taste. Her patience was running short, nothing was good enough, growing impatience she took the snail and throw it away.

The object made a loud noise that had been heard downstairs for sure, but she didn't care. She really didn't. She got herself under the blanket, cold running throught her body even tho the weather was pretty warm.

It took her nothing to fall asleep, and to be surrended by her nightmares coming back to make her sleep difficult. Between the faces that she was used to see screaming at her, putting the blame on her a new was added to the crowd: Zoro's. He wasn't talking like the others, he was silently looking at her dissapointment all over his features. Y/N tried to apologize, but words couldn't come out, they were stuck making her choke on air.

-Z...-nothing, her throat felt dry, like the ground back in Syrup Village during the drought. She felt powerless as usual. I'm sorry, I'm really sorry, she wanted to apologize but it was hard when the only thing you can do is breath.

Breating, the only thing she was able to do was to breath but with time she found herself having an hard time doing that as well, dropping on the ground. Tears creeped out her eyes, watering her eye line but she tried her best to fight the urge to cry her eyes out.

She woke up covered in sweat and sighed asking herself when was she going to stop having nightmares or was she going to live like that forever? If that was the case she hoped the sea was going to take her as soon as possible, before she was going to lose her mind.

After a quick shower and a change of outfit she tippy toed outside her room making sure no one was around she headed to check on Zoro. She was happy to see they were alone in that moment.

She closed the door behind her and for a moment she pondered if it was a better idea go back to her room and stay there untill her friends were back, no she decided to keep Zoro company for a while. Maybe she didn't really know what to say, but the words were going to come at some point, wouldn't they?

She moved the chair closer to the bed he was resting on, glanced for a while his hand. Was oaky for her to hold it? Was he going to even feel it? She didn't know what to do, she had found herself in that position countless of times and yet it was just like the first time.

-Zeff told me it is a good idea to talk to you but honestly I don't even know what to say.- she thought she was sounding stupid, who on the seven seas starts a conversation like that? Her for sure. -Usopp hasn't always been my best friend, I had one before I met him. She was older than me, not much older, just two years of diference.- she smiled. -I was new to Miro Village. The first two months she was really mean to me so I would avoid her most of the times, even thought she would find ways to bully me so I gave up. She did everything in her power to make me upset, she blamed everything on me to get me in trouble like that one time she stole an entire cart of fruits and told the major it was my fault. He had to call in my parents, they wanted to talk to my dad about my behaviour but little they know he was dead. He had died some weeks prior I moved there, the journey wasn't that long since I used to live nearby but no one knew, how could they? Is not like I talked about it nor anyone cared to ask why a lonely little girl walked miles to get there, they were just happy there was someone doing the jobs no one wanted. She apologized for how she treated me but to be honest with you it wasn't that important, she was the only one that paid attention to me, yes you might argue it was not the best way but when you are a kid that goes unnoticed you kinda of like it when someone talks to you, even if is just to make fun of you.- she took a deep breath, now it came the hard part. -We started to get closer and closer until one day pirates raided the village, they took her because she was trying to protect little ol' me. They killed her on the spot and I was going to follow her if it wasn't for a random citizen pumbing into the pirate. It gave me the window to run away and I found shelter in Syrup Village where I met Usopp. Sometimes I see her in my dreams, she is always mad at me because I ran away and I didn't help her, sometimes I think back at...-

Someone was on board, she could tell, checking who was she felt safe seeing her captain. Luffy walked past her ignoring her presence, not because he didn't like her, for all the seas if that was the case she couldn't even have thought on putting a single foot on his ship, the captain had to fix the problem first thing first.

-Hey, Zoro. You sure missed a big fight. Those fishman guys were though. You would have loved it.- she smiled, knowing that was 100% so true. -...great dinner. All of us sitting around together, listening to Usopp's stories. Only I kinda messed it up. And now I lost Nami.- schock was painted all over Y/N, what was he talking about? Losing Nami? How? When? Why?

-...but I know what to say now, and is so simple. I need you, Zoro. I need you to wake up.- the girl felt ashemed, she wasn't able to say those simple words, indeed went on about her childhood friend that died to protect her. She was glad that her captain got the courage to say those words.

-You gonna keep talking, or let me get some sleep? Geez, you people really like to talk uhm?- Luffy jumped on top of Zoro, Y/N was only able to stare at the two boys in front of her. He was alive, how? She was pretty sure he was done for. She thanked whoever decided to let him live.

Luffy hugged his first mate, making him groan out of pain.

-Luffy, Luffy get off you are hurting him.- the girl said and before she could help the straw hat pirate down he was already on his feet.

She was now standing next to Luffy, looking at Zoro with a small smile on her face.

-I had the strangest dream that Nami left.-

-She did.-

-What do you mean she did? Why?-

-It's my fault. She left...- he started but Zoro cut him off.

-No, you didn't do anything wrong. You acted like a captain.- Luffy couldn't understand, if he did actually act like a captain, why was the crew falling apart more and more? -No, it's not. I, Roronoa Zoro, vow to stand by your side from now until the end. Until we find the One Piece or die trying.- he kept on with his vow and Y/N could only admire the boy for that. She started thinking if she was in any position to vow eternal loyalty or if her presence on the Going Merry was just temporary, she hoped not for the latter.

-so what do you say?-

-What?-

-Do you want to be part of my crew as a loyal member?-she was taken aback, no one had ever asked for her opinion on important metters, she grew up following orders. If she was told to do something her only concern was to carry on the task, no question asked, but now? Now she was given the chance to choose: eaither stay on board and become a part of the Straw Hat pirates, or leave and starting fresh a new life somewhere else.

-If you accept me, I'll be honored to follow you and protect this crew and the one in needs.-

-Of course I accept you, why would have I asked to join in the first place? Now...- the three of them got interrupted by Usopp screaming and happy to see his friend awake.

-I wasn't worried for a second.-

-Yeah, not worried at all, in fact I was the one...-

-HE IS ALIVE.-he said raising with such force his hand and Zoro's in the process, making the wounded guy groan out of pain.

-LUFFY STOP. - she separeted the two, taking Zoro's hand in hers. -For all the seas, you are going to give him an embaracing death one of those days I am telling you.- she was still holding his hand when the green haired swordsman cleared his throat to get her attention. -Sorry.-

-So, now what we do? Plot a curse to the Grand Line?-

-No, not yet.- was his answer.

-But I thought we were going after the One Piece?-

-We are, but we can't do it without our whole crew.- she smiled, knowing exactly where he was going with that. First mission before heading to the Grand Line: getting Nami back.

-Great, now you two start getting everything ready. I am going to change his bandage.-

-I can do...-the captain started.

-I am not leaving the first mate under your care. You keep treating him like a doll. Now please let get ready to leave.

-I can do it myself.- he groaned trying his best to stand up, but failed.

-dude, you can't even seat without help. Now shut up and let me help you.- he let a small "fine" not sure about the whole situation but it was either that or groaning every two seconds. And as much as his ego screamed at him that it wasn't to be that bad, he gave up and thought that maybe he really needed a little bit of help.

487 notes · View notes

toracainz · 2 months

Text

Shrike

Masterlist

Summary: Things with Marc have been…touchy to say the least. Can things get better?

Pairings: Marc x fem!reader

Warnings: Swearing. Established relationships. Verbal conflict. Break up. Physical conflict with some asshole. Knife but no harm to reader. Everything is wet but not how you think. hurt/comfort. angst/comfort. i mean I hope the comfort is there lol.

Word count: 4.3k

A/N: this is for my first-ever fic request. never thought someone would ever want to ask me of all people for a fic. I hope everyone likes it. it kind of got away from when writing it sooooo lol

Things were fairly quiet in the flat as Marc enters looking exhausted. It doesn’t take him long to notice the sound of the shower running. You were home. Just great. With an exasperated huff, Marc makes his way to the chest of drawers to quickly pack for yet another mission. Grabbing the things he was looking for he begins to shove them in a bag, trying to hurry out of the flat before you can notice, but he was never that lucky.

The shower turned off as he was putting the last couple things in and in a rush Marc runs into a chair with a loud thud and a “Fuck!”

“Marc?” You called from the bathroom, hoping it was him and not some burglar, as you stepped out, wrapped in your towel. He had been gone for quite some time with no word on if he was okay or when he’d be coming back. You and Marc had been together a while now, so long that he actually trusted you enough to tell you about Khonshu and what being his avatar meant. It was a bit hard to believe at first, until Marc summoned his suit in front of you…there’s no denying it then. So you came to understand that what Marc was doing was for the greater good, that he was out there helping good people and punishing bad ones. The first few times he left on a mission, you were worried sick and oh so relieved when he got back no matter how long that would be for…but after a while, after many discussions about just a simple text being enough, some kind of indication he was alive and maybe even when you would see him again him being away also brought frustration and maybe a little anger. While fights had become frequent when his missions were brought up, you both managed to make up and move on…until it happened again.

“Shit…” Marc muttered under his breath, “Yeah!…yeah, it’s me. Just stopped by to grab some things…got a uh…long trip ahead.” He knew what was about to come, another fight, another round of the same old thing.

“That’s it?! You’re just grabbing things and going? Were you even going to say ‘hello’? Or ‘I missed you’? Or ‘I love you’? Just grabbing things and avoiding me now?” Your tone became more and more agitated with each question. You had been waiting for him to come back, like you always did, and had been looking forward to spending time with him. Did he seriously need to go on another mission right as he was coming back from one??

“I didn’t think you’d be home.”

“Do you even know what day it is? Of course I’m home, Marc.”

“Yeah, I can see that.”

“Don’t get smart with me, Spector. How many more times do I have to ask you, to beg you to just send me a message or call me? If I didn’t know any better I’d say you really just didn’t give a shit.” By now you’ve shed the towel that was wrapped around you and began to dress yourself. You were fuming and you truly wondered if he did care, if he could change.

“Is that what you think?” Marc let out an exasperated laugh, shaking his head, his grin at your accusatory statement beginning to turn sour. “You’d like that wouldn’t you. To be right about me, huh? Someone who doesn’t give a shit about us, about you? Fine…you know what you’re right. I’ll save you the trouble and just get the fuck out of here.”

You could feel your heartbeat in your ears. Is he fucking serious right now? That’s it. “Good. And don’t expect me to be here when you get back.” The words felt cold even to you, but what else could be done? Sleepless nights, the secrecy, the blatant disregard for your relationship…you were basically like another goldfish for him and the flat your tank, just waiting for Marc to come back and feed you the little flakey sorry excuses for quality time or physical touch. It’s time to find open waters.

Marc couldn’t believe you, he didn’t believe you, that you would seriously leave. If he’s being honest with himself (which let’s be honest he can rarely be honest with the people he cares about let alone himself) he’s surprised you haven’t left him before now. Maybe he really is a piece of shit that doesn’t care…no, he can’t think like that. You’ve fought before and you make up and…everything’s okay. That’s right. You’re the one constant in his life and he really does look forward to seeing you after his missions…everything’s going to be okay.

He looks at you, intense brown eyes assessing you for your bluff…of course you’re bluffing…he shakes his head letting out a puff of breath through his nose before turning and walking out the door, shutting it a little harder than intended but not quite a slam.

Unfortunately for Marc…you weren’t bluffing.

As he makes his way out of the flat and on to his next mission you had begun to pack your things, anger simmering into frustration and heartbreak as tears roll down your cheeks. You try to steady yourself but you can’t stop the tears. Grabbing your things, or as much of it as you care to take with you, you walked out and locked the door. With the key in hand you looked it for a moment and sighed.

“Goodbye, Marc Spector.”

You knelt down and slid the key under the door, turning away and headed home.

~*~*~*~

Marc tries to quietly enter the flat like he had weeks earlier…once again he hadn’t called or texted you to update you on his mission, how he was, when he was coming back. This time however he was going to be able to just relax a while. Knowing things were left not on great terms, he had been ruminating on how to make it up to you. “I won’t be here when you get back.” The whole time he had been away those words stayed with him, he would tell himself you didn’t mean it, that you would still be here. After all, you were so patient and understanding of him, his past, and trying to help him make a better future.

Marc wasn't the best at keeping people close, especially the people he cared about. He told himself the reason he never called or texted you while on a mission was for your safety, he didn’t want anyone catching wind of him having something or someone to lose. He told himself it was the same reason that when he returned from a mission he would never come directly home. He would always stay at his storage locker a night or so or even stay somewhere else entirely before making his way back to the flat to see you. Of course he never expressed this. That would have made too much sense, made things too easy. And Marc was never good at making things easy, especially for himself.

He walked around the flat, looking for a sign you might be here. He didn’t see your bags or your laptop anywhere and he didn’t hear the shower or sink so you weren’t in the bathroom.

“Babe???” He called out. Maybe you were hiding? Yeah right, not really any place to hide in this open floor plan flat. “Baby???” Still he called out hoping just maybe you were hiding. He started back to the front of the flat, thinking you might have been in the kitchen (maybe with your headphones in listening to music) and he just didn’t notice. Marc was beginning to feel like a kid that had gotten separated from their parents at the grocery store. But when he got to the kitchen it was empty. Now he was beginning to panic. Maybe someone had found out about you and took you. He was already jumping to the worst possible scenario.

Clenching his fists, he hung his head trying to think of what to do, how to find you. His hands found their way into his curls as he gave them a tug getting more and more desperate with each passing second. That’s when the glint of something metallic flashed at him from a spot on the floor in front of the door. Confused and intrigued, he slowly approached it as if it might suddenly attack, but once he got closer he felt like he would have preferred a key monster attacking him.

Your copy of the key.

He knelt down, picking it up, examining it. This was definitely your key. Realization came crashing down on him. You really meant what you said. He really fucked up.

“Shit…SHIT!!”

He had to find you. He never wanted it to end like this, hell he never wanted it to end in general. It was one of those moments where you don’t truly appreciate what you have until it’s gone. Marc grabbed his jacket and keys and started back out into the chilly London night, thunder rolling in the distance. He had to find you and apologize. You deserved at least that. He told himself that even if you didn’t take him back, even if you didn’t forgive him, he wouldn’t blame you or be upset, you had every right to be upset. He fucked up royally after you begged him to be better. Maybe next time he would learn from his mistake, if he allowed himself to find someone else…but he didn’t want anyone else.

He managed to find a flower shop that was just about to close. Briefly summarizing his situation the shoppist took pity on him, letting him buy a small bouquet. Marc felt that if it was too big his apology might seem insincere or that he was just trying to bribe you to come back. No, the size he got was modest, but not puny. He hoped you would like it, even if you no longer liked him.

With an aching heart, he begins the trek to your place. You both hadn’t talked about moving in together just yet, but maybe if Marc hadn’t been such an ass maybe you could have.

~*~*~*~

The past weeks had been…hard, to say the least. You had gone home and cried and got angry and cried some more. By now the pain, though still fresh, had simmered down a little. You didn’t want things to end that way, but Marc just wouldn’t listen, wouldn’t change. It was hard having him gone so often, worrying if he was alright even knowing the suit would heal him. You just wanted to have him near you, hold you, and you wanted to do the same to him. He’s a good man deep down, but he just can’t seem to get out of his own way.

Your friends had been taking you out on the town since you broke things off with Marc, trying to get your mind off of it all. It worked, sometimes. Other times you would call it an “early” night and head back to your flat. This was one of those nights.

You had dressed cute, a very flattering outfit in both fit and color. You had a drink or two but nothing crazy, not like one of your friends. They all decided to stay out into the early morning, you however thought about your bed and sleeping in. The sound of your shoes against the sidewalk was really the only sound around in this sleepy part of town, aside from the thunder that seemed to get closer. Heaving a sigh, you cursed at yourself for not having brought a proper jacket or umbrella, but you were close to your neighborhood so maybe you could get there before it truly started raining. Now the bed was sounding even better than before, rain outside, cozy blanket, your comfort movie on, the feeling of being watched…your steps were no longer the only ones heard echoing in the night air. Your thoughts were yanked from the blissful thoughts of home to the very present moment and the gravity of just how alone you are this late at night.

You don’t dare look back, so you start to walk a little faster…the other steps picking up their pace too. Again and again, until you’re practically running, but try as you might those other steps are quicker. A strong arm suddenly grabs you from behind as a hand quickly covers your mouth as the body begins to carry you into an alley as rain begins to sprinkle down. The man harshly presses you against the hard exterior of the building…a glint in the dim light…a knife coming to hover in front of your face. As the rain begins to come down truly, it hides the tears that had begun to roll down your cheek.

“Hey, pretty lady. Where’s your friends, hmm? Seen you walking this way couple times…watching that ass move down the road. But that isn’t all I want. Give me your purse, your phone, anything of value…now.” His voice was harsh and his smell somehow still carried through in the rain. You hate how close he was, close enough to know things about him you never wanted to know. As he shifts against you, adjusting his hold on you, you can’t help but whimper in fear.

“Come on now! Don’t have all night pretty thing…out with it.” He barked in your face as your trembling hands began to comply, handing him your things.

“P…please just…please don’t…” Trying to catch your breath at this moment proved nearly impossible. Your heart pounding against your ribs, your lungs doing the same as your hastened breath matched your heart. This couldn’t be happening, why was this happening.

The man tucked your things away, to where you didn't know and didn’t care. You let out a whimper of fear of what might come next. The cold rain beating down on the both of you made you feel even more helpless, especially when a figure was suddenly standing at the entrance to the alley you had been dragged in. It was difficult to make out his features with the way the street light was lighting him from the back. Anxiety spiked as you began to wonder if this was another creep wanting to get in on the action, if they were a weird team or something, but more than anything you hoped it was some kind soul who would help you…though you were quickly running out of hope.

“Oi, what are you looking at huh?” The creep challenged the figure, so they obviously didn't know each other. You glanced around hoping the man would be distracted enough that maybe you could make a break for it, but before you could hatch a plan the figure was headed towards the both of you. “Are you deaf?! You better walk the other way and mind your business, yeah?!”

By now you had closed your eyes, you didn’t know what to do, words were failing you. All you wanted was to be home in bed and for all this to be some sick nightmare brought on by the night's tiring events. The sound of plastic hitting the ground was nearly drowned out by the pattering of rain. In an instant you were colder than before. Was this it? You stood there trembling as time seemed to drag on one agonizing second after another. You realized the creep was no longer caging himself around you, there was a thud and splash of a body hitting the puddling rain on the ground…then a repetitive thunk, thunk, thunk.

Your eyelids felt like they weighed a ton as you slowly opened your eyes, raindrops collecting on them before inevitably falling to your cheeks. And there you see the second man, pummeling the creep until he’s just a groaning barely writhing mess on the ground. When the man stood he gave the creep a swift kick to the gut causing him to cough and wheeze as the man wiped his knuckles clean before retrieving your things…and pocketing them himself. Oh shit, no this can’t be…not another asshole. Your legs could finally hear your brain’s commands as you started to hurry to the alley opening, the crunch of plastic as you stepped on what the man had dropped.

A strong, forceful, calloused hand grabbed your arm as you let out a scream. “NOOOOO! LET GO!!!” Somehow your fight had returned as you pulled against the man’s grip, his other hand coming to grab your arm. He was…saying something, but you didn’t want to hear it, you just wanted to run.

“BABY!!”

You froze, your eyes snapping to look at the man holding you still, eyes wide from adrenaline, fear, and shock. The street light no longer casting a shadow over his features, now the light shone on his damped tan skin and making his wet curly hair glisten.

“M…Marc? Marc…” You couldn’t help it, seeing him there feeling his grip holding you steady, everything came crashing in. A heartbreaking sob clattered from deep inside. Marc reached up, cupping your face in his hands.

“Shhhh…shhh it’s okay baby, it’s okay. You’re safe, baby. You’re safe.” His thumbs gently stroked your cheeks before slipping behind to pull you in close. The rain beat down on you both as Marc held you until you had managed to calm down enough so your thoughts could catch up with what was happening.

“Marc, you…how did you…why are you…?” You stuttered as his hand reached up, gently wiping your hair out of your face where it had clung to your skin.

“I uh…I was coming to see you…to apologize. Wanted to get my thoughts together on what I wanted to say…felt like walking was the best way to do that. Well, walking where I could. That’s when I heard a bit of…what was happening. I was already ready to step in and do something…but when I saw it was you I just saw red. Baby, I’m so sorry you had to go through that.” The way he looked at you, his chocolatey brown eyes seeming so dark in the late night, you still didn’t understand.

Marc carefully and slowly let go of you to pick up the plastic wrapped bouquet of flowers, now slightly trampled and looking a little rough.

“These were…these were for you. Though, I don’t blame you if you don’t want them now.” He turned the bouquet this way and that to examine the little bit of damage they sustained. Looking back at you, clearly still in shock, he hands you the bouquet and begins to take off his jacket, putting it around your shoulders. The jacket shielding you, it was warm and helped take the chill from your skin. Putting his arm around you, he began to lead you out of the alley and down the sidewalk to your flat. Once at the door, he helped you to unlock it.

“Well, um…you get inside and get warm.” He stood there a moment, not sure what to do really. Should he come in? Would you even want him to come in? Maybe you should call one of your friends to come over…Marc doesn’t believe you’d want him to stick around too long. So, he begins to take a few steps away from you and the door.

“Why did you come to find me, Marc? The flowers? What is…what is happening here? I mean—thank you, for saving me. For—for being there, I just…I don’t understand.” Shaking your head you still tried to make sense of what felt like a very strange sequence of events. You looked at him, like really looked at him. The man you thought you’d never see again except for an awkward exchange at a pub or a tesco. He resembled a sad puppy that had been left in the rain.

“That’s probably the shock. You’ll want to lay down for a while…like I said, I wanted to—to apologize. For being an ass, for not listening to you, for all the times you begged me to do something and I never did. Look,” Marc took a deep breath, his shirt now beginning to cling to his body. “I am in no way expecting you to forgive me or take me back or give me a second chance cause quite frankly I don’t deserve it. You asked me so many times to do something so simple and I had convinced myself that by me not doing that—not texting you or calling you—I was protecting you. That I was making it so people wouldn’t find out about you…and I should have just told you that. I am so sorry. If I had—if I had maybe you wouldn’t have been out tonight. Maybe you would have been back home waiting for me to come home, you wouldn’t have…” his chest began to rise and fall as his breath hastened.

He did this. He caused this domino effect where you could have gotten seriously hurt. It seems no matter what he does, he can’t help but hurt the people he cares about. Maybe it is better that he just not get close to anyone…as much as it breaks his heart.

While Marc had begun to spiral you made your way down the front steps over to him, taking his hand in yours.

“Marc, stop that. None of what happened tonight is because of you…sure I might have been somewhere else, but some creep could have found me any other night. He could have found me while you were gone on your mission, but,” you quickly added, giving Marc a stern look, stopping him from saying that that would have been his fault too for not being here, “you can’t blame yourself for that. Marc, do you know how long I’ve just wanted an apology? An acknowledgment of how you were hurting me.” When those words left your mouth, Marc brows knit together, causing that crease between them to appear, he looked positively gutted. Of course he was hurting you, there didn’t need to be some weirdo in the middle of the night or some enemy of his to cause you pain—he was already doing that.

“I know…and I should have said it a long time ago. I should have because you deserved that much…that’s why I came out to find you…why I got the flowers. I—You deserved better. I understand why you left and I’m sorry it had to end like that.” He did everything he could not to look at you, he thought if he did his heart would hurt more than it already did. “You deserve far better than someone that doesn’t realize what he has until it’s gone.”

Your hand reached up, gently cupping his rain slick cheek, the both of you thoroughly soaked by now, but not wanting to leave the other despite the rain. When Marc felt the warmth of your hand on his cheek he couldn’t help but lean into it, damn he missed this.

“Oh, Marc…damn it. I never wanted to leave. I wanted you to work with me. It broke my heart to leave, but I didn’t see any other way. You didn’t seem like you wanted this to work…wanted us to work.” Your other hand came up to move his hair from where it stuck to his skin like he had yours. This really hit Marc hard. He wanted to be with you, couldn’t imagine life without you. Well he got a glimpse of it tonight and the horrid taste it left in his mouth was something he wished to never taste again, but that wasn’t up to him.

He took a deep breath, a calloused hand coming to hold yours against his cheek.

“Come inside, Marc.”

“I—I shouldn’t.”

“I wasn’t asking. You say you don’t want a second chance, that you don’t deserve one, but if anyone deserves a second chance it’s Marc Spector.”

His eyes snapped up to find yours, slightly widened at this news. “Baby…”

“Marc, I love you. And I want you in my life, but if this is going to work, if we’re going to be together…some things have got to get better. All I’ve done since I left was think about you. So…promise me, if we do this, that things will get better.” You stepped closer to him, your body pressing against his as his other hand comes to rest on your waist.

“I swear. Baby, I swear. I’ll text you, call you, send postcards, anything you want. I’ll make it up to you, all the times I fucked up.” He pulled you closer, arm wrapping around you.

“Marc, let’s take this a step at a time. Okay? A new start. How does that sound?”

“Like heaven on Earth. Like I’ve been reborn.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at his flowery statements. Marc could be goofy when he wanted to, you felt like he was only able to relax when you were around and you didn’t mind that. It meant that you made him comfortable, that he felt like he could let down some of his walls and let you in.

Hearing your laugh made his heart lighter, a smile spreading across his lips. Marc was in awe of you, of your features, your laugh and voice, and your saint-like patience. He found himself leaning in, eyes drifting down to your lips, yours doing the same. You couldn’t help it, not with how close he was and how his hand held you against him.

“Marc,” you breathed out before his kiss took your breath away. He pressed his lips to yours like it had been a lifetime since he’d kissed you. The rain didn’t seem so cold anymore as you both embraced.

taglist: @saberlight1 @roseqzpd @rosecentaur1916 @ahookedheroespureheart @sleepyamaya @parkeepingparker @lockleysgrl @marc-spectorr @vermillionsails @harrys-tittie @n0ripeaches @missdictatorme @bitchyglitterfox @spacecowboyhotch @randomchick546 @teacupcollector @local-mr-frog @stevenknightmarc @ahookedheroespureheart @mccn-bcys @juneknight

#marc spector x reader #marc spector x you #marc spector #moon knight #moon knight fanfic #moon knight fanfiction

179 notes · View notes

k0libra · 8 months

Text

Welcome Captain Anderson and First Officer Connor!

About a week and a half ago I came up with dbh civil aviation au, as I absolutely love jetliners. So I decided to combine both of my interests! :D

More details about the setting are under the cut!

In the 2020s, a new aerospace corporation emerged - “Cyberair”. Originally starting from light jet construction, but later in the 30s they introduced narrow-body aircraft to the production line, as the result of rapid growth and market expansion. However, throughout the years their idea remained the same: “Reliable and comprehensive automation”. Cyberair jets are everything, beyond what a modern aircraft can offer, and is capable of. Truly a creation of the 21st century.

The latest Cyberair venture – state of the art autopilot. Identical to humans in its appearance, yet so different in behaviour. It’s efficient, reliable and doesn’t make mistakes (almost. At least human ones). But to tell the truth, this development is expected – ever since the late 20s Cyberair started to slowly announce machine cabin crew, even gifting a unique RK200 air traffic controller model to the Detroit Metropolitan Airport.

Delta Air Lines received their own one-of-a-kind autopilot, a RK800 (FAA approved!) model. How? Well, something about the Cyberair CEO liking their service. After a few papers signed and a few hands shaken, Connor embarks on his first real flight as a First Officer.

No plane flies without a captain though, so Connor has company. And a superior. Even if machines are better than people in piloting the plane in almost every way, human ego and fear, maybe, can’t let them be in absolute control. “Uncanny valley” or something.

Captain Anderson is a highly experienced senior pilot at Delta. Most of his career he has been flying Airbus aircraft, piloting A350-900 in the later years. Although because of Connor working with him now he has to pilot Cyberair regional or light jets from time to time. Oh, those signed papers be damned… He misses his dear A350.

Their relationship had a rough start, with the captain calling Connor “an attempt of capitalism at stealing my job”. But Hank couldn’t help but warm up to the FO the more flight hours passed. There was something so… alive about him? No, in aviation you only trust your instrument panel, and here all of the facts loudly state that Connor is simply a RK800. This is definitely some Eliza effect shit.

Why is he so interested in the A380 then? Doesn’t he have all of the aeroplane data neatly stored in his head? What surprises Hank more is something akin to confusion on Connor’s face every time he gets overly excited about the giant of the skies. Maybe he’s surprised by his new-found interest, too. At least there’s something Hank can tell him about from the old days (ah, proud A380 pilot) during long transatlantic flights.

Fucking Eliza effect bullshit.

P.S. if you want to leave an ask about this au, please do! I get asks so rarely so I’m excited hahah. But you can ask literally anything else, too lol

#art #fan art #my art #dbh #detroit become human #connor rk800 #dbh connor #dbh rk800 #rk800 #dbh hank #hank dbh #hank anderson #dbh au #dbh aviation au

430 notes · View notes

curryduck · 1 year

Text

dating neteyam

content: neteyam x human! reader, friends to lovers, gender neutral reader

a/n: this is really long b/c i'm currently going through neteyam brainrot

you two grew up together on pandora b/c you're the daughter of one of the scientists left on the planet

at first he's pretty hesitant to be around you bc you're a human lol, but he warms up to you

gets to know you when kiri goes to the lab to visit grace

what starts as a tense, but amicable relationship turns into a real friendship as you get older

you're waiting for him when he comes back from his first strumbeest hunt

and he's by your side as you catalogue the different plants of pandora (you're something like a botanist without the degree)

neytiri def does not like that neteyam is so close with a human, but jake doesn't rlly see an issue with it outside of any practical concerns

"neteyam you can't take y/n to climb trees she is literally the same height as tuk."

being besties w/ neteyam means being around tuk all the time (she's neteyam's favorite)

tuk steals you away from neteyam when he's gotten sidetracked by lecturing lo'ak to make jewelry

"lo'ak, dad will skin you alive if you---oh shit, where'd y/n go? Tuk!"

over time you develop feelings for him, but you keep it to yourself

ofc jake notices, but he doesn't say anything ab it except giving you sly smiles whenever you and neteyam are hanging out

neteyam is dense af. doesn't realize he loves you until he sees you with a human boy in the lab

he thinks you and that human boy are a little too close. when you touch the boy's arm, neteyam can feel himself getting annoyed

at first he doesn't know why, but when he hears lo'ak snicker to himself about neteyam being "whipped," he gets it

isn't fully sure that you feel the same, so he doesn't say a word about it

lo'ak is definitely the one to tell you

"yk neteyam thinks you're in love w that mf at the lab? he keeps obsessing ab it and it's getting on my nerves. just tell him already"

as a significant other, neteyam is incredibly protective

he's grown up as the protector in his family who puts everyone else's needs before him

very cautious of taking you places bc he knows pandora isn't rlly made for humans

takes you on ikran rides, but not before he gives you instructions on how to ride one (with him, of course) safely

takes you to different parts of the forest to see the wildlife and plants. loves it when you write everything about them down in your journal (you keep records of the life on pandora)

gives you leaves and rocks he finds pretty bc they remind him of you

watches human movies with you sometimes

likes to try out the different things that they do in those movies to make you feel "more at home"

has definitely ATTEMPTED to do the big ass sign scene from "love, actually"

asks jake to help him with the english spelling

likes to make you jewelry

learns from tuk because she allegedly knows your style

his biggest red flag is that he will drop anything to do something for his family

doesn't matter if it's your birthday. if jake needs him, he will leave you right there lol

it definitely bothers you and has been the root of many arguments but he tries his best to manage both you and his family

#neteyam sully #neteyam #neteyam x reader #neteyam x you #neteyam x human reader #neteyam scenarios #neteyam imagines #avatar 2 #avatar way of water #awow #atwow x reader #atwow #atwow neteyam #neteyam fluff #neteyam fanfic

1K notes · View notes

multifandomlover01 · 5 months

Text

Who Needs Statistics When I’ve Been Promised Kisses?

Spencer Reid x Reader (Gender Neutral I believe)

WC: ~1k

Slight warning?: Spencer is a lil’ subby in this…oops?

Summary: Spencer is going into a dangerous, life threatening situation and he’s concerned about the fact that none of his teammates are acting like he’s gonna come back alive. You change that.

Ep: 1x09

Just…pretend Elle is you? Idk lol

Gif credit: fightingdragonswithwho

“Could you guys do me a favor?”

“Anything,” you say sincerely.

“Could at least one of you look like you’re gonna see me again?”

You smirk. You step closer to him. You cup his face gently with one hand. You lean up (lol vague height mention, sorry) to press your lips to his. He’s watching you with wide eyes the whole time but the second your lips touch his, they flutter closed. He presses into the kiss slightly. It feels too good for him to be embarrassed about the fact that your coworkers are right there witnessing it. The kiss is not too long but it’s also not too short. It is very nice and sweet. You pull away after a few seconds.

“Come back alive and I’ll do that again.” You promise, smiling up at him, your hand was still on his face, and your thumb was caressing his cheek.

“Yeah. Ok. I will.” He nods with a dopey grin on his face, which is tinted pink. It was obvious that he had enjoyed the kiss despite him having had very little experience with intimacy with other people and also not liking people touching him.

“Good.” You smile, patting his cheek lightly before removing your hand from his face. You enjoyed the power you seemed to have over him. There was no counter about how the promise of a kiss didn’t technically, according to statistics, make it any more likely that he’d make it out of this alive. There was only the reassurance from him that he would. For the first time in his life, Dr. Spencer Reid threw statistics out the window and put all of his faith and trust in his (fairly strong) desire to kiss you again.

(Time Skip to after everything is over and done with)

“You gonna hold me to that promise because I’ll keep it if you want me to.” You say as you sat next to him on the trunk of the car after Elle left.

“I want you to keep your promise.” He says softly, looking down at his hands.

“Good. Me too.” You smile as you scoot closer to him, putting a hand on his chin to lightly lift his head up so he meets your gaze. He looks at you with those adorable puppy dog eyes of his as you look at him so sweetly. He’s frozen as you move closer to him, your hand still on his chin. His mind is racing. Your skin is so soft. Your eyes are so pretty. Your face is so close. He wants to feel your soft lips on his again.

And then, your lips are indeed pressed softly to his again. His eyes flutter closed again and he presses into the kiss again. His hands slowly rise up from his lap to your face. He’s desperate to touch you in some way. He cups your face gently with his hands.

You go to pull away but you don’t get very far away from him before he’s whimpering slightly at the loss of your lips on his even if your hand is still on his chin and his hands are still cupping your face. There is still skin to skin contact, you two are still touching each other's faces, and yet he needs more.

“Please. Don’t go. I did just what you asked. I came back…t-to you. That was really nice. I want more.” He mumbled.

“Technically I just asked you to come back alive, like, in general.” You say, pointing out that you never specifically asked him to back to you.

“Same thing.” He murmured, hands still cupping your face, desperate to feel your lips against his again but too polite and scared to just pull your lips to his again without your permission.

“It’s not and you know it.” You chuckled, your hand sliding from his chin to his cheek.

“Y/N, please…I need you. I…I need…your lips, your warmth, your…comfort. Please. I-I could’ve died on that train. I could’ve gotten Elle killed. I could’ve gotten everyone on that train killed. I could’ve died and never-" he suddenly cuts himself off.

“Never…what?” You ask softly, curiously as you look into his eyes. But he refused to meet your gaze, his own gaze drifting to the ground.

“Spencer, look at me, please.” You requested softly and he hesitated for a moment before his eyes flickered back up to meet yours.

“Is there something you want to tell me?”

“M-maybe.” He mumbled.

“You wanna tell me what it is?”

“It’s embarrassing.” He whispered.

“I’m sure it isn’t and even if it is, I promise not to laugh.” You say sincerely.

“It is. And you’re gonna laugh.”

“I promise not to. Please. Tell me.” You insist.

“Why did you uh um…kiss me? Wh-when I asked if you guys could stop being so gloomy about me going off to my potential death…wh-what made you do that…specifically?”

“You needed to know that someone cared about you.” You shrug as if it was a completely normal thing that you’d done.

“And that’s how you thought you’d show me?” He chuckled. “Is there something you wanna tell me?”

“Like what? That I just wanted an excuse to kiss you?” You chuckled now.

“Well...did you?” He asks softly, curious.

“Well you liked it, didn't you?"

“But why did you do it? A-and I know it was more than you just...comforting me by showing me that someone cared about me. You didn't have to kiss me to do that, Y/N, and you know it." He nudged your shoulder with his lightly.

"I know...but maybe I really wanted to." You murmured, chuckling and smiling slightly.

“Really? You kissed me because you really wanted to?”

You nodded. “Mhm.”

“So…it wasn’t just to comfort me?” He smirks slightly.

“Seemed to comfort you pretty well, actually.” You tease lightly, nudging his shoulder like he’d just done to you.

“I didn’t say it didn’t. It most certainly was very comforting. But…that wasn’t your primary motivation for kissing me…was it?”

“N-no…not really. It was an excuse to kiss you.”

“Why haven’t you before?” He asked softly, curious.

“I dunno…I guess I was just…scared?”

“Scared? You were scared? I was scared!”

“Of what?” You ask, chuckling slightly.

“Of you! O-of you rejecting me, of you laughing at me.”

“Oh…Spencer…” I sigh softly. “You had no reason to be scared. I would never laugh at you. I…I never would reject you.”

“Y-you wouldn’t?” He looked at you hopefully

You shook my head. “No.”

"Oh. God, I'm an idiot, then." He shakes his head and chuckles. "You're telling me...that the whole time I've known you and liked you...you've liked me too?"

"Pretty much...yes." You smile, chuckling softly.

"So we're both idiots, then?"

"Pretty much, yeah." You chuckle.

"So...this whole time...we could've been dating but...we were both too scared to say anything to other?"

"Seems like it."

"Man, we're dumb."

"Hey, better late than never, yeah?"

"So...you're saying...if I asked you out on a date...you'd say yes?"

"Why don't you find out?"

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fic

215 notes · View notes

critter-of-habit · 4 months

Note

When I watched the new What If episode with Peggy & Nat I immediately thought of you, your art, and what your reaction would be. Especially since it was kind of a retelling of Captain America & The Winter Soldier.

What are your thoughts on the episode?

Seeing as you asked, I WILL TELL YOU MY MANY THOUGHTS. WITH PICTURES.

under the cut for length lol

First of all, as usual the animation, particularly the lighting, was incredible. Also the effects! The explosions, smoke, everything. Always blows me away how much effort and love these animators put in to What If.

I love that it's Winter Soldier based because by god do I love that movie - but I also love that it's so very different to my AU cos that means I can keep going with it lol.

Okay here we go with the highlights - Blatant flirting and showing off:

This???:

Just how in sync they were with every fight scene - even in the Battle of New York when they had only known each other for a few hours.

HEY LOVELY. LOVELY:

Angst. And how soft Nat is here:

"Hey, Peg. I got you."

Natasha's inability to sit in a chair properly:

Peggy making a star wars reference and Nat calling her out on it like .. Nat you RECOGNIZED the reference you're a nerd too

"You know I always wondered how you got all those GI Boys to follow a woman into war: question answered." ie. "I'm so into you right now":

This Natasha stabbed Dreykov to death with a corkscrew and I love her for it.

Natasha instinctively putting herself in between Peggy and Steve even though they're both twice her size

I've already mentioned but, the choice to focus on Natasha's face in this scene:

Nat's face here:

Natasha only getting taken down by the robots because her gay-Peggy-focused-ass gets distracted when Peggy runs off to protect Steve: (I'll come back to this point later as a negative)

MELINA.

Was anyone else looking to see if Yelena was there

"Let's unpack that later, shall we?"

"I don't know whether to kiss you, kill you, or dissect you." "Let me guess, all three?"

I bet the Captain Carter film was baby Nat's gay awakening lol:

Melina's glorious slo-mo "grandma, it's me, anastasia" coat drop:

Peggy running to save Nat T_T

These shots:

Nat wearing the same outfit from Winter Soldier:

Natasha "too-loyal-and-infatuated-for-her-own-good" Romanoff going along with Peggy again to look for Steve without even being asked. (in stark contrast to the end of Winter Soldier when Natasha did not go with Steve to look for Bucky, I might add)

New reaction image:

Peggy and Nat calling and reaching out to each other when the portal opens and ALMOST making it - then Natasha punching the ground in desperation T_T

These two look SO COOL and I can't wait for the 1602 episode.

Negative points:

Rehashing Ste/ggy all over again - we already HAD that and it was endgame, why do it again?

As much as I adore Natasha's intense loyalty, it's very one sided in this episode and I'm wondering if that's intentional. Peggy is hyperfocused on Steve and leaves Nat behind to run after him multiple times, even though he is in an entire suit of armor and is FINE and Natasha is the one actually getting injured. Then she's leaving at the end without saying goodbye to go find Steve again (despite there being no reason to think he's alive? he EXPLODED??) even though Natasha just went through a trauma too and shouldn't be abandoned. Kinda feels like Peggy is taking Natasha's always being there for granted and I really hope it's addressed in following episodes (though I doubt it will be - it'll just be Steve focused again -_- )

Okay I think I'm done. This was a LOT I'm not sorry I've been waiting for more content for SO LONG I can't wait for the rest of the episodes to rip my heart out and stomp on it :3

#Disclaimer because this is tumblr: I'm under no illusion that Peggynat will actually happen #but all their interactions FEED ME #peggynat #reply #critter rambles #long post #VERY long post I'm not sorry #what if...?#what if...? spoilers #what if #what if spoilers

197 notes · View notes

teyamsatan · 11 months

Text

𝕄𝕠𝕟𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕚𝕟 𝕄𝕖 | ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕀𝕀: ℍ𝕚𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕆𝕦𝕣 𝕊𝕚𝕟𝕤 𝔽𝕣𝕠𝕞 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝔻𝕒𝕪𝕝𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥

Pairing: Neteyam x (f)Omaticaya!Reader

synopsis: you decide to make Neteyam pay for all the hurt he's caused you, but what will happen when your own plan comes back to bite you in the ass?

warnings: 18+ minors DNI, aged-up! Neteyam/Reader, enemies-to-lovers, strong language, mentions of violence, blood, neteyam and reader being horrible to each other lol

wc: 5k words

a/n: i'm so flabbergasted by the incredible response to my first enemies-to-lovers fic, you don't even know! thank you so much, it means so much to see you besties enjoying it and being excited about it. I will reiterate once more than this is a trope suuper outside of my comfort zone, so i hope you enjoy me wracking my brain to figure out the plot as i go along hahahah. enjoy, and as always, thank you for every like, reblog, reply, it means the world x (thank you very much also to @cinetrix for her amazing Neteyam art ily bestie x)

na'vi compendium: syä - bitter, yawne - beloved, tanhì - bioluminescent freckle, 'itan - son, 'ite - daughter, Tsakarem - Tsa'hik in training, tsamsiyu - warrior, muntxate - mate, 'eylan - friend

: ̗̀➛ previous chapter (x) : ̗̀➛ series masterlist (x) : ̗̀➛ series playlist (x)

Tryna wash away all the blood I've spilt, this lust is a burden that we both share

Two sinners can't atone from a lone prayer, souls tied, intertwined by our pride and guilt

Oh, I love it and I hate it at the same time, you and I drink the poison from the same vine

Oh, I love it and I hate it at the same time, hidin' all of our sins from the daylight

Just like most Na’vi, you’ve always felt comfortable at night. It always felt to you like the best time to be alive, is when the plants came to life alongside you, in iridescent hues and kaleidoscopes of vibrant colours. You’ve always liked how the village quieted, much like your mind, and how you were able to almost disappear in the dead of the forest, your body perfectly camouflaged in the trees and shrubbery surrounding you, glowing lights reflecting on your lustrous skin. It was heaven on Pandora, and it was yours to take, yours to enjoy, yours to experience.

It didn’t feel like that right now, as you were stalking towards the village with a hand around your neck, tears falling down your face, a forlorn disposition plaguing your mind, fear protruding uninvited through the stalks of your thoughts. You kept glancing behind you, trying to see if Neteyam was following you, and felt mildly soothed when the village came abruptly into focus. You let out a breath of relief that you felt has been lodged in your throat for too long and started running towards your tent, exalted when you reached it and pushed the flap closed, almost considering glueing it shut with the sap from the tree Na’vi use in building furnishings for the village and their homes. You couldn’t stop the scream that escaped you as a voice you didn’t expect to hear in a home you thought was deserted spoke up, filling the much needed silence.

“Is everything alright, Tanhí? Why are you so jumpy?” O'ì'en’s calming tone did very little to soothe you, but you knew you needed to settle your mind, so as to not raise suspicion. Any hint of what transpired between you and Neteyam would lead to complications you didn’t want to have to deal with, not when you had it all under control. There was no need to bring anyone into a war that only concerned two people, that would lead to destruction and ache you didn’t want anybody you cared about to have to experience. You had it all under control.

The reason for your unsightly fight with Neteyam brought back the conversation between yourself and Mo’at, that you tried your best to push away from your mind, that now came back in full swing as you finally took him in, as you knew you would have to tell him, and deal with the consequences of Eywa's vision and your decision to not talk the Tsa'hik out of it as a way to get revenge on the man who hurt you deeper and deeper with each day that passed. You and O'ì'en never made your relationship official, and never really even talked about it seriously, but there was no need - it was obvious enough. It was quite clear to most people that although undefined right now, your future was shaping up before your eyes, and its shape looked a lot like mating before Eywa, it looked a lot like kids and laughter and happiness and all the good things you thought you wanted, that you wanted to want every day of your life. You didn’t know whether you were convinced, deep down, but either way, you were always willing to try. Now, it seemed you wouldn't even get the chance.

“Everything’s fine, yawne. Just didn’t expect to see you here.” You thanked Eywa silently for the darkness in your home that hid your new-found bruises and closed the distance between you two, smiling as genuinely as you could bring yourself to, and reaching out to stroke his cheeks, the smile didn’t feel as forced when he leaned into your touch, closing his eyes and almost purring in comfortable contentment.

“I just came to check on you after the mission. You were… impressive. As you always are. It means so much, watching you out there, seeing what you’re capable of, how incredible you are, knowing the future moth-“ his eyes widened as his words registered in his mind and he stopped, and your expression couldn’t have been far removed from his in this moment, that felt all of a sudden thick with anticipation and nerves, with tension and fear. You didn’t know which emotions came from you.

“Ma O'ì'en…I…”

Both your heads snapped in the direction of the entrance, that was pushed open aggressively by a tall, muscular figure that you would recognise in every dream and every nightmare, in every waking moment, that you wished you didn’t. Neteyam stilled in his tracks as he noticed the scene in front of him, intimate and personal and clearly not for his eyes to see, and you felt a growl blossom in your throat that you had to swallow, if not for anything, for your still unflinching desire to keep this whole ordeal a secret for as long as you could.

“I’m interrupting.”

“Yes, yo-“

“No, Neteyam, future Olo’eyktan. Is there anything wrong?”

“I need to talk to her. About the… mission.”

“I shall leave you to it, then. Please give your family my regards.”

“Thank you, O'ì'en. I appreciate it.”

“No, yawne, you don’t have to leave. I can talk to Neteyam tomorrow. It’s late, anyhow.”

“Tanhi, we’ll… resume our conversation tomorrow, alright?” He gets close to you and his lips find your forehead for just a second, before he takes his leave, and you sigh, dread filling you at the thought of being in such proximity with the man that took so much space in your mind, the man that hurt you beyond words, that you would never be able to forgive.

“How touching.” his voice is filled with contempt and malice, and it hurts, still to this day, this tone you knew so familiarly, that you never managed to get used to, like a shadow following you in the night you would never be able to escape.

“Get the fuck out of my tent, Neteyam.”

“He seems to have taken the news of our impending doom of a mateship very well. I’m impressed.”

“Leave, Neteyam.”

“You would think he would leave out of here kicking and screaming, that he would punch me and challenge me to First Blood for the chance to keep you… maybe you’re not as big a catch as I thought.”

His steps were quiet, but determined, as he traversed the length of the tent and got close to you, until he took up your entire field of view and you hissed aggressively, your tail twirling so much it was almost hurting, as did your ears, pushed back until they were flat, and you removed your knife, resting in a sheath on your chest and held it a couple of millimetres from his neck.

“I said… leave.”

“Oh.. yawne, I doubt you’re going to kill me, but you’re more than welcome to try.”

He had no time to say anything else as the knife made contact with his smooth skin, and in one fell swoop, a thin stripe of blood emerged from his chest, and started dripping down his body. You looked at it, at the clean, bright red liquid spilling, then raised your gaze to his face, that wasn’t shocked or scared, or even angry, but alive with a glimmer of something you couldn’t quite place in his eyes and a lazy smirk on his face. He shrugged.

“Guess I deserved that.”

“So… why wasn’t your little boyfriend upset about our arrangement? Cause the way I see it, this means either you just conveniently left it out of the conversation, or it’s because you are actually planning on talking yourself out of it to my parents.”

Your heart was booming in your chest as his eyes bore into yours and the intensity in them scared you, but not because of any elicited fear, but of how your body reacted to it and how you didn’t know what those feelings plaguing you were, or how to make them stop.

“Leave.”

“Now why would you not tell him about it? Are you scared? Scared he’ll find out you’ll finally get to be with a real man for once?”

You chuckled.

“Is that supposed to be you? That is funny, Neteyam, congratulations! I will let Lo’ak know that you managed to actually make a good joke for once in your life. He’ll be floored.” His expression darkened momentarily, but he regained his composure as quickly as he lost it.

“If that’s not it, then, that means you will talk to my parents. I knew you couldn’t be dumb enough to accept this stupid little forced deal.” You wanted nothing more than to wipe that stupid little smirk off his face, and fortunately for you, you knew just the way to do it.

“Well, why, Neteyam, as much as the thought of being mated to you horrifies me beyond my wildest nightmares, it’s nothing compared to the joy I get thinking of how miserable you’re going to be if I don’t talk to your parents and have to watch the choice slip past your grasp, not that it was there to begin with, or the joy of - ah, there it is - the joy fading from your eyes as you realise you will have to tell your stupid little girlfriend that you and her, will never, ever happen, and she will never be Tsa’hik, and watch as you realise that everything I foretold is, in fact, true.”

It was your turn to smirk, widely and cruelly, as his smile faded a little more with every word you spoke, until it was completely removed and replaced with a snarl, deep scowl and menacing canines on full display for you, but you were no longer scared. No, pure adrenaline was rushing through your veins, heightened by the desire to hurt him, to see him crumble in front of you, to see him suffer a sliver of all the hurt he’s caused you over the years.

“Listen me very carefully, Neteyam. For one reason or another, you have made it your life purpose to make mine miserable, and only mine. I don’t want this to happen, I really don’t. I would rather be with any other man on this planet before I even considered looking in your direction, but I will make you pay for all the hurt you’ve caused me. And I have no problem burning in the pits of what Jake calls Hell, if I get to watch you burn with me.” You smiled a sweet smile, running your finger over the cut that was still leaking blood, trailing it down his abdomen, over his abs, and you ignored once more how the feel of his muscular body made shivers emanate from your fingertip, propagating throughout your whole being. You also ignored how his body shuddered under your touch. “So you and me, we’re stuck together, and there’s nothing you can do about it. And I will enjoy every moment of my life in which I get to see your life fall apart before you and know that I made it happen. So this little charming act you’re pulling, it’s all in vain. It’s all in vain. Now get out.”

You didn’t wait for him to answer you, but turned around and started preparing for bed. You removed the silk top covering your chest, and heard a sharp inhale as his eyes took in the scene, and your breath ceased, wondering if he was going to leave, like you told him to, wondering if you wanted him to. Eventually, the cold sting of the wind blowing hit your back, as he opened the flap to your tent and exited it, and all at once, it all hit you and you felt more alone, more forlorn than you ever have, and less sure than ever about your crazy, all-consuming schemes.

You woke up with doubt filling your mind and the headache to match, and you wondered if you did in fact have to leave the comfort and safety of your tent for the life that you knew would be waiting to tear you slowly at the seams as soon as you left it. Dreams plagued your subconscious last night, floating in the ether, waiting to be grabbed and inspected by an uncertain mind, and in your state, they were, and turned over onto each one of their pretty facets, bringing back memories you struggled to forget, that hurt you in their innocence and beauty, in their absence, in their contrast to your life right now and the relationship you still mourned to this day on odd occasions, on harder days, like yesterday, and like today.

In those dreams, Neteyam’s eyes gleamed with excitement and love, instead of annoyance and hatred. In those dreams, his hands were warm as his fingers intertwined with yours on the practice grounds, instead of bruising and calloused as they snuffed the breath out of your throat. In dreams, his smile brightened your whole world and made the pain of training and the struggle of excellence not only bearable, but barely-felt. You couldn’t even remember the last time Neteyam smiled your way, a true smile, a gummy smile, a playful smile he still flashed most people, he still flashed his family, and friends, and clan, all of which you used to be, none of which you still are to him.

You wondered sometimes, very rarely, if he ever thinks about those times, too. If in his undivided quest to hurt you and one-up you, in his desire to see you fail and the joy he seems to derive from it, you wondered, did he ever think about those times, too? Does he ever remember you, innocent and young, full of spark and happiness, looking up at him like he was a planet and you were just his moon, trapped in his gravitational pull, circling his orbit, offering him solace and safety from the rest of the universe, from all the meteors that always tried to take too much out of him, too quickly. He used to love you, and want to protect you, he was there when your parents died, he was there to help you mourn and heal. Does he remember what you used to mean to him?

As you made your way to the Sullys' tent, you were greeted by shouting and a seemingly unending back-and-forth, but the voices involved in it weren't the ones you expected - not when they weren't Lo'ak and Kiri's, who you found bickering almost on the daily, who you were used to having to mediate peace treaties for, but instead, Neteyam and Jake's, both angry and raising above the peaceful chatter of the village that was just coming to life in light of a new day.

"- and this is just the way it is, Neteyam. This isn't like you! You, more than all the rest of your siblings combined, have always been able to see the bigger picture, to understand that sacrifices sometimes are necessary for the greater good. You have always been the one who was able to have perspective. What the hell happened, son?"

"What happened is you're trying to get me to mate with someone who I hate, who I will never be able to accept. I had a chosen mate! I had a life, and a plan, and now it's all over. Now you're telling me I have to give her every part of me, the most intimate parts of me, my children, my future. Her!"

You cringed at the way he said your name - like a blasphemy, like a curse. Spitting it like it was blood and bile mixing together on his tongue, coating his mouth, like the vile word hurt sitting in his throat. and he desperately needed to get it out before it could do any more damage.

"This isn't my decision, son. And it's not yours, either. It's Eywa's. You know she's never wrong, you know there's a reason for this. She seems to see it, too, why can't you at least try?"

There was silence in the tent and you felt guilty for prying, your body crouched next to the tent and your ear against its woven fabric, but not guilty enough to stop. Jake sighed loudly. You heard Neytiri's calmer, more even tone take over.

"Ma 'itan... you used to love this girl. She used to be your best friend, you used to do everything together. I know things have changed between you, but deep down, you're both the same two people you used to be. You both can find each other again, you just have to try. Why won't you try?"

Neteyam huffed and the sudden commotion made you jolt back, hiding in the corner as he pushed passed the closed flap, muttering mostly to himself as he left the tent, and his family, behind.

"You know damn well why."

You let out a breath you've been holding for the entirety of the conversation, as you came out of hiding and entered the tent, trying your best not to look like you overheard the entirety of that conversation that although about you, clearly was not intended for your ears to hear. Even if you hadn't heard the whole thing, it would still be obvious you were on their minds and on their lips as their eyes scrambled in shame and embarrassment, the room drowned in awkwardness and heaviness none of you could quite shake, none of you could quite swim in gracefully. Neytiri spoke first, her motherly instincts kicking in as she noticed your pained expression, that as hard as you tried, you couldn't hide from the people you loved so much, from the people that knew you so well.

"Ma 'ite, come, sit. We saved you food." she took you gently by the shoulders and pushed you to the middle of the room, and then down until you sat next to Lo'ak, who gave you a pitying look and a half-smile, an underwhelming attempt at telling you he's heard the news, and he feels sorry for you. Lo'ak more than most people knew how it felt to be stuck to Neteyam, how it felt to know that, no matter what happened or where life took him, he'd always live in his big brother's shadow, unable to escape his majestic, adept, irritating grasp. It seems you were now in a similar boat, bound to be known as no more than Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk'itan's mate, and eventually, the Tsa'hik of the Omaticaya. It was a good title, a worthy title, a mighty title - just not one for you, and Lo'ak knew this all too well.

"I didn't get to see you after the mission, kid. I wanted to tell you you did a phenomenal job. Neytiri and I are very proud of you, you are genuinely better and better every day."

You felt annoyance build in you at his comments, but pushed it down. They were being nice, and it wasn't their fault. None of this was their fault. It wasn't anybody's fault. It was Eywa's will. And Eywa knew best. And still, still, you couldn't help feel it, the frustration that gnawed at you at this situation, at the way none of it would matter soon in their eyes, how it would all be forsaken and forgotten, your skill, your prowess, everything you worked for for 19 years.

So, say something. Tell them you don't want to do it. That you're meant to be more, was born to be more than just his mate. Say something.

Nothing came out as you chewed your food apathetically, trying to focus instead of little Tuk who came to sit next to you, and you pulled her closer, sharing your food silently. She smiled up at you, and you couldn't help reach down and peck her on her forehead. It's been a while since you went out, just you girls, and you felt guilty for abandoning Kiri and Tuk for Lo'ak's training sessions and your own, and made a mental note to organise a foraging trip soon.

"Kid, you are one of the best warriors I have ever seen in my 19 years of being Olo'eyktan. In fact, you are one of the best I've ever seen, even back on Earth. You should be very proud of yourself and what you've achieved. I know there's so much still there for the taking, whenever you're ready."

"There's nothing left for me to take, Jake! Not anymore. Don't you see that? You all stand here, talking about how great I am, what a great warrior I am, but how the fuck does it matter anymore, huh? When I'll have to give it all up to become Tsakarem, to exist here, in the village, for the rest of my life instead of out there, where I actually belong, to exist to interpret Eywa's will, which I will never be able to do, because I will never be able to understand why she would ever think I could ever be this, all of this for the people, how she could think it's fair I have to give up all of me to belong to someone else who hates me, who'll get to shine in my stead, and fight in my stead, and fulfil the destiny I was bound by, that belonged to me just as much as him? I trained my whole life, side by side with Neteyam, to be just as good as him, to be just as good a tsamsiyu as he is, and now it's all in vain. So please, spare me the compliments, since they are just as wasted on me as my talent on the battlefield is."

You were no longer hungry, it seemed, and with one last kiss to Tuk, you got out of the tent, hearing a faint "Well, that could have gone better, with both of them." coming from Jake, accompanied by a deep sigh that mirrored yours. You heard footsteps follow you, but couldn't find it in you to stop, to care, not when more and more, it seemed like the ground was turning into quicksand beneath your feet, pulling you under with each moment you considered all you were giving up to get revenge on a man who you meant nothing to, who probably didn't care regardless, who was going to hurt you in this forced relationship more than you could ever hurt him. Maybe it wasn't worth it. Maybe your peace of mind, and your ability to reach your full potential was more important than the desperate, idiotic need to get Neteyam to suffer for the 7 years of indiscretions that clawed at your heart every day of your life.

"Syä, come on, don't make me chase after you."

You ignored Lo'ak, and continued walking until you hit the tree you both liked to go to think and vent, to talk and complain about anything and everything - his subjects always revolved around his father and his sisters, yours revolved around your lack of parents and the pressure that you felt to be great, the responsibility you shouldered, and you both shared one subject in particular, that occupied most of your time spent here. He climbed after you and you both settled on the branch you usually laid on.

"I'm sorry, syä."

"What about?"

"Everything. This whole thing. You don't deserve this."

You scoffed.

"I deserve what I got. That's why I got it. The Great Mother doesn't choose sides, and she's never cruel or unjust. So I must deserve this."

There was silence weighing heavily on the air around you and in both your minds. Lo'ak didn't have the most developed emotional maturity, so you knew better than to expect more. You appreciated the little he did say, because it did matter - it always will. You and Neteyam might be as far apart as two galaxies on opposing sides of the universe, but you and Lo'ak were adjacent stars in the night sky, there to shine together. You might not have a family, not truly, but he would always be your baby brother, and you would always be his big, bitter, best sister.

"I have to tell you, though... I feel bad for you and all, but it's so good to know I won't have to call that little scared, mindless yarik of a girl sister. She truly is the most dull, vapid, odious person I've ever met, and even with Neteyam's bad track record in girls, this one still shocks me to this day. Imagine her being Tsa'hik, ew."

You laughed a little. She really was bad. Not what you would have ever imagined Neteyam's type to be like, but more and more it seemed Neteyam's type was anyone who had absolutely no resemblance... to you. Like consciously or subconsciously, he just needed to make sure the person he was kissing, or touching, or fucking, had nothing of you that could hinder the experience for him. The thought hurt and tilted to balance back in the favour of your original malevolent, callous, rotten plan.

"Have you told O'ì'en yet? Can't imagine he'll be very pleased. That guy's whipped for you, for real. I've never seen someone literally have those heart eyes that you see in those old cartoons my dad used to show us when we were kids."

You sighed another bottomless sigh as you thought about yet another person who had to suffer as a result of this scheme. Your boyfriend for all intents and purposes, the man you once thought you might spend the rest of your life with. A man who was good and pure, who treated you well, who put you first. You realised with a small chuckle that, much like Neteyam, you, too, subconsciously found the opposite of him and held on for dear life, only to now have to let him go.

"Not yet."

"You should, syä. He deserves to know."

"Yeah. He does."

Lo'ak's words rang in your ears as you were walking through the village in search for the one person you needed to see, and you knew where he would be, where he always was when he had spare time, dutiful as always, responsible as he would always be. You smiled a half-smile as you saw him with a gun in hand, peering through the visor, full focus as he was aiming for one of the targets nailed to a tree 500 metres away.

"You're aiming too low." his eyes snapped to you, and the smile he gave you, so genuine and wide and comforting hurt you, it all hurt your heart that was struggling to maintain itself whole in the face of everything that it had to endure in time, and more so recently.

You joined him, motioning for him to resume what he was doing, and you placed a hand on the underside of the sniper he was holding, inching it upwards.

"You have to adjust for the distance and the gravity pulling the bullet down as it flies towards the target. Like with an arrow."

"An arrow I get. This, I don't think I ever will."

"You will, O'ì'en. I know you will." I just won't be the one to teach you anymore.

"I was hoping you'd come." He dropped the weapon on the ground, finding better luck in counting the stars on your face instead, and with a caress of your lips, you shuddered under his touch, leaning into it, exhaling softly as his own lips found yours in a soft, intimate exchange. "I missed you, and I wanted to tell you something, I needed to tell you what's been on my mind from the moment you first appeared in front of me during my first lesson."

Your heart was pounding in your chest and in your temples, the words that you knew were coming scaring you, their weight, their implication dizzying you, turning you into a breathy, untethered mess as you spoke words with barely enough strength to be heard.

"O'ì'en, I -..."

"Please, let me get this out. I love you, tìyawn. I love you, and everything about you. I love your beauty, and your strength. I love how incredible you are, and how skilled. I love how despite your tough exterior, you have a gentle heart. And you are kind, and good, and I just know you'd be the best mother one day. I just hope it's to our kids. I want you to be mine, to mate before Eywa, to finally have the lo-"

His words and the erratic beating of your heart in your ears, the tears glossing over your eyes, dulled your senses to the man who was approaching you, and you suppressed a hiss at the interruption, at the one who instigated it, at the one who always seemed to conveniently find a way to do so. Neteyam walked until he was so close to you his hips were brushing against your waist, that, much to your unadulterated shock and disbelief, he circles with his arm, holding on to you tightly as he spoke.

"I have been looking everywhere for you, ma muntxate. Father called an emergency meeting and he needs you there immediately. He asked me to go find my love, so typical of him, don't you think?" His smile was sweet and innocent, but you knew better, knew that he just ruined the last pure thing in your life, the one thing you tried to hard to protect, the one thing you were just reconsidering this whole ordeal for, once more. O'ì'en...

"What did you say?"

"Oh, ma ‘eylan, haven't you heard? Her and I are to be mated soon. Isn't that just great?"

The sound of both your and O'ì'en's hearts shattering all around you and the swift melody of Neteyam winning yet another battle is the last thing you heard before the man you cared for turned around and left, taking the future and the hopes he held safely within his soul, leaving you with more guilt and shame than you would ever know what to do with.

taglist: @fanboyluvr @theycallmesia @afro-hispwriter @soleilmoon @crazy4books1 @bakugouswaif @randxmthxughts @xreadersstuff @sirezaya @kimberlyshailany-blog @gyuventure @jujudsmyst @kikookii @nxptury @nonniesworld @koing-slvt @bakugouswaif @isnt-itstrange @tpwkforevermore @alahamums @tallulah477 @gknj9495 @aquamarine001 @itssomeonereading @yumimak

899 notes · View notes

yourstory-teller · 1 year

Note

The ramos one could be something like how he is breaking ankles and injuring people on the field but around the girl he likes he is all soft and sweet, his teammates can't believe it is their same aggressive teammate

Hey bb, thank u sm for requesting!! I'd never written for him before, but it was fun, even though I don't know if I really like this lol

But I promise you I did my best. Hope you enjoy it ♡

Tame the beast

Part of the players were moving in a frenzy. It was normal for this kind of thing to happen during a game, it was to be expected. There were just some people who crossed the line, or got really, really close to it. Some would say close enough to start something.

Ramos walked incessantly towards an opposing player, forehead pressed against his, while the other man kept stepping backwards, trying hard not to trip. "The fuck do you think you're talking to? Huh?" His voice changed considerably at times like this, so much so that even his own colleagues feared the things that he could do. After all, whatever happened to him could harm the entire equipe.

What happens is that, during a play, the Spaniard had made a tackle that directly hit the opposing player's ankle. After that, instead of helping him up, or apologizing, he scoffed, as the other laid down on the grass, complaining of pain. Obviously, the guy wasn't very pleased.

Some of both men's teammates moved to intervene and, after much painstaking, managed to pull them back. Sérgio mouthed an "Hijo de puta", before walking away. Well, it could be much worse, honestly.

Perhaps less than an hour later, everyone had already moved to the dressing rooms. The buzz was loud and between laughs, jokes and screams it was almost impossible to actually hear each other.

Neymar was the first to miss his friend. In the midst of what they insisted to call a conversation, he discreetly nudged mbappe and leaned in to speak close to the boy's ear. "Where's Ramos?" he asked, then saw Kylian move his head to look around the room, just like he'd done a few moments earlier. "He's been away for a bit, right?" "Right." And with a kind of unspoken agreement, they both got up and started walking towards the back of the room, close to the lockers.

When they were already farther away from the shouting of their mates, a much more subtle and smooth voice could be heard. And when I say smooth, I mean smooth. It sounded eerily like someone speaking a few good octaves higher than what they would usually sound like, like when you're talking to a baby, or a dog.

It took them a while, but they gradually did recognize that voice. "Is this-" Kylian started, but the older man was quick to bring a hand over his mouth.

"I know, honey, I'm sorry, but he started it!" Sergio sounded like a kid being scolded and the two secret listeners did everything they could not to burst out laughing. What a time to be alive.

"I miss you too, baby. But I'll see you soon, right?" This time, the tone used was much lower, almost pleading. He most definetely sounded nothing like the number four they had just seen and heard out on the pitch. It was almost ridiculous to imagine that it was the same man.

"Okay, anjo, I'll call back later. Love you." Ney's eyes widened and he quickly grabbed his friend by the arm to avoid being caught snooping around.

That's when they noticed. Glorious moment.

To say that they laughed about it again and again and again, was an understatement. Neither of them spoke about that with the others, but they didn't need to, anyway. They would eventually find out themselves.

As said, Sergio got to see you not long after that. You had gotten a few weeks off and, of course, would spend as much of that time as possible in the company of your handsome boyfriend. You had arranged everything, every little detail together, and his anxiety was almost palpable, even over the phone.

So, like the hopeless romantic that you were, you decided to surprise him by arriving a few days early. It was cliché and could be very predictable, but you still hoped he wouldn't suspect a thing. He didn't. When you showed up that day, right after a match his team had emerged victorious from, he was as incredulous as you imagined he would be, perhaps a little bit more.

You calmly walked over to your boyfriend while the others were still busy cheering around. He was standing still, seemingly in disbelief of the fact that you were actually there, within reach, for the first time in a while, too fucking long, if you asked him. But when you were just a few steps away, looked like it finally hit him and Sergio was immediately grabbing you into the tightest, warmest embrace, that you missed so much.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and allowed yourself to get lost in the feeling of being at home.

When you pulled away, just enough to look into his eyes, he stared back with such apparent adoration, that it made you dizzy. Your foreheads now rested together, his lips brushing against your trembling ones. And as he whispered how much he loved you and that he had no idea how he managed to endure all this time away from you, you could feel his tears flowing down your own cheeks.

That's when everyone noticed.

After that, the other players teased him to death. Light hearted jokes, of course, even though sometimes they did carry a hint of envy. Whistles and kissing noises, but it just didn't bother Ramos. The only reaction he'd show was an eye roll and, occasionally, a slight blush that took over half of his face.

"So, Ramos, is she going tonight?" Marquinhos asked, eyebrows dancing suggestively. "We know she's going, he can't even breath without her" "He's whipped, doesn't even deny it"

It would be impossible for you to realize that there really was such a big difference between Sérgio Ramos on the field, and Sérgio Ramos when he was in your company. To other people, however, this discrepancy seemed more than obvious.

Of course, he wasn't really a violent person in everyday life, at all. He was a serious person and somewhat closed off, sometimes even frowning, but not violent. On the field, however, it was a completely different story. When he wore the team's shirt, his presence on the field was nothing short of threatening, in many ways. Sérgio was a great player, fast, skillful, but, above all, an aggressive player. And this was the man the team was used to.

Maybe that's why it was so shocking for them, seeing the two of you together.

Right after a tough workout, or another bitter defeat, which wasn't uncommon playing for PSG he would crawl into your open arms and completely melt, like putty against you.

"It's amazing" You'd hear a whisper, coming from, you just knew, probably Neymar. "She tames the beast." It took a lot of effort and a maturity that you definitely didn't have, for you not to chuckle.

It was funny, yes, but also flattering and, in a way, gratifying, to know that there was a side of him that was kept just for you, and no one else.

"Come on, babe, we're gonna have fun." Your grip around his waist was tight and you moved so that your chin was resting on his chest.

While spending the season with him, you learned that it was common for the players to gather after some more intense training sessions or a few matches, sometimes to celebrate, sometimes to lift their spirits and feel more invigorated to get back to the fight. These weren't really parties, but more like get-togethers, albeit relatively ostentatious and considerably eventful.

"We can have fun here!" You sighed, despite the smile that made its way to your lips. "I know, but we're gonna have plenty of time to stay here. Please, love." You insisted once more, giving him your best attempt of some puppy eyes, but he'd always been better than you in these type of things. He sighed and rested his head back against the pillows, closing his eyes.

You found yourself smirking as he looked back at you, an amused glint in his brown orbs, which now looked almost black. It all happened so fast and you honestly don't know how, but in a second Sergio was hovering over you, strong arms pinning yours against the mattress. It was easy to notice how there was still so much care and delicacy in how he held your wrists.

"Fine" He lowered his head until his lips were ghosting against the corner of your mouth. "But after that, it's gonna be just us. In this room. For a long time." You couldn't control the giggle that rumbled through your ribcage. "Si señor."

792 notes · View notes

athanasius-symposium-of-writings · 3 months

Note

Hi there! I was wondering if I could request a scenario for Identity V? Specifically for Norton? I love the way you write for him!

Okay so, it’s safe to say that since Norton and Fools Gold are basically the same person, they feel the same way about things, including people. What if the reader (female or gender neutral) discovers Norton’s feelings toward them after having a match against Fools Gold and confronts him about it? Like rather than chair the reader, FG acts possessive toward them and teases them? Confrontation with Norton could end in fluff or NSFW, up to you!

Thank you!

Fool's Gold be normal challenge part 2 lol but im mad i lost my idea midway (curse u adhd!)

Rated Mature | Warning: relationship -in psychologist voice-

With how long you have been running your chest is starting to hurt, which does not help the limited places to run are getting smaller and smaller. Luckily, the map is Chinatown and there are plenty of places to hide. Not so lucky, as the hunter is well aware of those places. Not a rare map to be placed in but frequent as the Arms Factory or Sacred Heart Hospital.

With a dash upstairs and your legs give out, your chest burns but your heart does not stop racing as the hunter is still nearby.

You have been tunnel-hunted before by hunters, never for a reason-- Sometimes. However, you have never felt like a mouse in a game of cat and mouse, there is a teasing nature and you hate it. Fool’s Gold can be mean but he is no Ithaqua or Ripper, still for him to get seemingly off on you running away— His laugh loud— Worries you. The costume he has on does not help as he looks like a demon from the seven hells ready to claim your soul!

“Sparky, where are you~!” In a sing-song voice as he comes up the stairs. You go still, your dark costume is to your advantage as you hide behind a mannequin. The heavy footsteps have you holding your breath as you emerge from the stairway. His eyes looked around, his intimidating height towering above everything. He turns in your direction, golden stylized pickaxe but then lowers it as he hears a cipher pop.

“I will be back for you later.”

You have experienced fear but the rush of it never gets easier.

The hunter throws his weapon before using the magnetism to pull himself out of the opening in the store. You dash immediately out the other way refusing to just pray he forgets you.

He does not, he waits for you to be rebirthed by Embalmer's casket. You stumble out still hurt but alive, Fool's Gold leaning against a wall cleaning the caked-on blood on his hand, his pickaxe nowhere in sight.

“Sparky.”

“Only Norton calls me that.” Getting ready to book it.

“I am Norton.” Stepping forward, “Better than that brat.” You step to the side.

“No, you are some fucked ‘what if’.”

Fool's Gold stands at his full height, his one eye glowing almost brighter in this dark area, “Careful, sparky, I can let you escape through the dungeon if you behave.”

“I will hit you.” That makes him laugh, “I have one fuse left, we can go together.” Because you are not above being crazy.

“That I do not doubt,” Closer but you stand firm, “But you used all your tools. Too bad it didn't help that prison rat.” When you actually attempt to hit him, he is careful not to use his solid hand. His deformed hand holds you in place, the magnetism holding it together is used to keep you on the table as you try thrashing about. “You could've left him alone!”

“Yeah? Maybe you should've let me have you.” Standing over you, “Kiting me only pissed me off.” It is true the time he had you in his sights you made your business to be annoying. He scares you! Like right now. Being pinned down on a table with him between your legs. His solid hand traces your face.

“He didn't mark you.” Spoken when he yanks down your top to expose your neck and part of your chest. The marks on your skin are always from Norton, friends with benefits arrangement.

“What, you plan on doing it for him?” Playing fearless but you are fearful, this is the darker part of Norton. The demon everyone tries to hide made manifest, Norton hates it— Hates him.

“Why else do you think I have you here and not bleeding you out.” As if he would waste his time bleeding out anyone, maybe himself but that work he does not feel like bothering with. “Are you going to fight me?”

You weigh your options, “Mess around and find out, sport.”

His grin is wide, His teeth look sharp, and your inner masochist is excited.

He let you go via the dungeon, your legs hurt and you know your chest and neck must look like a mess. Easy to hide until you find Norton in your room waiting. He hates it when you have matches with his counterpart, especially the tunnel-hunting you most of the time.

“(Name).” Standing up the moment you entered, he put down the charm you made him on the bed where he was sitting.

“We should talk.”

Talking usually with Norton means he has to sit and listen and consider things, you only inform him so he has time to process and return to you. However, given the things Fool's Gold— Other Norton—was open about. Details are murky as he is not exactly like Norton, but the raw feelings are there, all laid bare because he refuses to standby and let his other self be an idiot.

The conversation is long, but no tears, and a few awkward silences but it ends with an understanding. Sex does not happen, Norton learning the ability to be grateful does not mean sex. Plus, the prospector is conflicted about how his other self thinks he has the right to touch you.

“I mean he is you?”

“I don't care! You're mine.”

“Oh, can you say that again for me, sport?”

#anon ask #idv #reader insert #identity v x reader #identity v x you #idv prospector #idv fool's gold #fool's gold x reader #fool's gold x you #norton campbell x you #norton campbell x reader #idv norton #idv x you #idv x reader

169 notes · View notes

suzukiblu · 29 days

Text

WIP WEDNESDAY GAME

Slimmed-down post/rules, but originally taken from @kedreeva.

It’s WIP Wednesday! This week's theme is "incredibly intentional and deliberate baby acquisition" (aka, "gIVE ME BABY"). With perhaps a slightly loose definition of "baby", hahaha.

( I had so, so many options that fit this theme to pick between, lol. )

Here’s how it works:

I will post the filenames of five WIPs, and will also post a snippet of new content from one of them to get the ball rolling.

Send me an ask with the name of one of the listed WIPs and I will write you a minimum of three sentences in that WIP in response!

Multiple requests are fine, but I’d prefer if you sent them in separate asks. Just a little easier for me to fill them that way.

If you’re reading this, you’re invited!

WIP names:

Clark wakes up alive

congratulations, it's a metaweapon!

the Last Son of Krypton meets Hypertime Kon

YJ accidental baby acquisition

Clark panic-adopts his teenage clones

snippet from “Clark wakes up alive”:

The pod is empty, Clark can already see through the walls. But he can hear a familiar heartbeat, though it sounds a little . . . different, now.

It’s been so, so long since he’s heard it, but even if he didn’t have the eidetic memory, he never could’ve forgotten it. That's Conner's heartbeat.

His brother's heartbeat.

But it's different, too.

And the empty pod isn't the only thing he can see through the walls.

“What’s the damn alarm about?” Desmond says irritably, not looking up from his work. Dubbilex doesn’t respond; Guardian shakes his head.

“Security systems are reporting a breach, sir,” he says. “Multiple doors are broken, but no one’s been spotted on the cameras. And the readings say they all broke within . . . point five seconds of each other?”

Conner doesn’t say anything either. He just sits very, very still between them, his heartbeat thrumming with a quiet, restless anxiety.

“Then lock the place down already!” Desmond snaps as he picks up a thin metal instrument with a sharp tip. Conner's heartbeat picks up.

“That will not be necessary,” Dubbilex informs them both, bland and neutral. “Superman has already let himself in.”

“What?” Guardian says, sounding startled.

“What?!” Desmond demands.

Conner’s heartbeat stutters, and Clark can’t be anywhere but in that room.

So he is, before Conner’s stuttered heartbeat has even settled, and then he’s looking at Desmond and far too many needles and medical instruments and Guardian who’s half-turning and Dubbilex who’s already facing his way and a few scattered G-nomes and G-trolls in assorted places here and there around the room and . . . Conner.

But not Conner as Clark’s used to seeing him.

Was used to seeing him, anyway.

Desmond curses, and Guardian jerks in shock. Dubbilex looks unaffected.

And the child sitting on the exam table in the center of the room stares up at Clark the exact same way a teenager once did: like he’s seeing the moon and sun and everything he thinks he’s supposed to be for the first time. Like he’s seeing something he’s waited and wanted to be.

Hoped to be, maybe.

And Clark . . .

Clark handles it differently this time, just like he’s always wished he could've.

“Hello,” he says kindly as he steps forward and ignores everyone else in the room to drop down into a crouch in front of the exam table and smile at Conner, who keeps staring at him mutely. “It’s nice to meet you."

#wip wednesday #meme #wip: clark wakes up alive #long post

99 notes · View notes

xxacademy · 1 year

Note

So I have this thing in my head - if maybe you can do headcannon or drabble. If you want/ ( whichever you want - your good at it all!) Where Leon's SO is at the hospital after being pretty much banged up on a mission ( with BOWS / both are working the same department) and I mean - near death experience lol. But a /between Re6 and Vendetta Leon/ and they have been dating for a long time now. I know very specific, but I have this in my noggin. If you're not into it, no matter - keep up all your work. I love it !

thank you for the kind words 🫶 i’m actually writing a full length fic for this because i LOVE this prompt. buuuuuut, for now a little drabble/hc because it’s gonna take me a lil while to finish that fic- i’ve already got like 2k words down for it though hahaha <33 consider this a companion piece for what’s to come.

hurt/comfort & fluff

leon kennedy x gender neutral reader

leon is calm under pressure, extraordinarily so. so when he gets the call that you were in the ICU, being rushed into emergency surgery he didn’t panic.

he thinks first and deals with the emotions later.

he details in his mind how to get to you- what hospital are you in, does he need to bring anything for you?

you’re out of the state- so he has to fly to you. because of his connections working for the united state’s government- he’s able to get an emergency plane ticket right away.

he has a few hours to kill, so he impatiently circles your shared home, thinking what could he bring for you.

he doesn’t allow his mind to think if your gonna make it out alive. only when you make it out.

he can only assume your clothing is tattered and bloodied, probably cut off of you.

he packs you some clothes, and some of your favorite things. like the little stuffed bear he bought you for your birthday.

on the plane he sits restlessly- checking the time over and over. you’re the only thing on his mind, he wishes he could hold your hand and tell you everything is going to be all right. he wonders if you’re scared. he hates that you’re alone.

upon landing he takes a cab to the hospital, he hands the driver a $100 bill and tells him to make it quick.

leon waits in the lobby of the emergency room, the blast of anxiety finally hitting him. the stifled cries of pain from other people waiting to be seen are overwhelming to him.

it’s when leon gets to see you that his emotions catch up to him. his sense of calm finally cracking the moment he sees you hooked up to machines in a hospital bed.

his blue eyes glassy from the tears welling up.

he kneels by your bedside- stroking your arm down to your hand. resting his head on the bed, watching you sleep.

he tucks the stuffed animal under your other arm- hoping to comfort you when you awake.

he talks to you even though you’re asleep, “i love you, you’re so strong- you got this, dear.”

please, please, please make it for me. i won’t let you leave me this way.

he attentively watches everything they do to you, every test that is ran and every medication that is administered.

leon gives you his unwavering support. wishing he can take the pain away. protect you from all harm. make life easier for you.

he knows your a fighter. hell, you wouldn’t be in this situation if it weren’t for your determined nature. but that in no way helps his urge to protect you.

when you wake up, you smile. a smile of warmth, full of surprise.

“leon? you’re here? how?”

“shhshh take it easy honey, im here- you’re here. that’s all that matters.” ♡

…

i wrote a fic inspired by this little blurb- check it out if you enjoyed this one!! -> tender

#academy drabbles 🫧#academy headcannons ☁️#leon kennedy #resident evil #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon x reader #leon kennedy fluff #hurt/comfort #leon kennedy headcanons #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x gn!reader

804 notes · View notes

sunshinesteviee · 1 year

Text

and they were roommates - s.h.

summary: from the prompt "we hosted a party for our friends last night and somehow we ended up making out and now it’s the next morning and we’re cleaning the apartment together and I can’t stop thinking about it" wc: 1.5k warnings: lots of overthinking and a flustered steve, but that's about it lol a/n: originally requested as a blurb that i got carried away with; i hope you like it!! sorry for the stupid title LOL

my masterlist

It’s unusually quiet in your apartment for a weekend morning where both you and Steve are home. The radio is on, playing the current pop hits, but it’s not enough to distract you from the distinct lack of conversation. If you wanted, you could probably chalk it up to the headache you were experiencing from your drinking last night, and assume Steve was feeling the same. And you tried, you really did. But you knew that wasn’t the cause of the silence filling your apartment.

Last night, you and Steve had had all of your friends over to unwind and hang out. There’d been lots of alcohol, and you’d ended up drinking way more than you’d planned to. Your drunk decisions were never your best ones, but you’d really outdone yourself last night. The stupid decision had almost been forgotten until you rolled over in bed to find Steve next to you, his perfect lips parted as he slept soundly. It wasn’t exactly abnormal to wake up next to him, especially after a night of drinking, but nothing had ever happened between the two of you. Until last night.

You hadn’t done anything more than kiss — albeit quite… passionately — but Steve's one of your best friends, as well as your roommate, and a drunken kiss had the potential to ruin everything. Especially since there’d always been an unspoken tension between you, at least from your perspective, but you’d resolved to ignore it in hopes of it disappearing. Clearly, it hadn’t quite worked.

After silently panicking, you’d scrambled out of bed and escaped to the kitchen, busying yourself with making breakfast. Steve had stumbled out of your room into the kitchen not long later, but was still half asleep as he poured himself a bowl of cereal, slumped over the counter as he shoveled spoonfuls into his mouth. Maybe he didn’t remember.

At the time, you’d told yourself it was probably good if he didn’t remember. But now, as you silently clean the apartment together, you’re not so sure. Would it hurt more if he really didn’t remember the kiss, or if he was just pretending he didn’t? Sure, you’d both been drunk, but it would be a lie to say you’d never considered the possibility, so the thought of it meaning nothing to Steve nearly eats you alive.

Empty beer bottles and cans clink loudly as you toss them into the garbage bag you’re holding. It’s louder than it needs to be, but you’re trying to focus on cleaning, on the noise; anything to keep your mind from wandering back to Steve and the kiss you’d shared. Because the images of your kiss flash in your mind, of Steve’s hands on your waist, soft lips pressing to yours, do nothing to stop your racing heart.

You can’t believe he hasn’t said anything, but then again, neither have you. Just the thought of mentioning it makes you flustered, and you’re not sure you can face him without feeling like you’re going to burst into flames, but you have to go back into the kitchen where Steve is washing the dishes that had been left out overnight.

Steve is humming along to the song playing over the radio when you walk into the kitchen, and only glances up from the dishes for a moment to flash you his perfect smile when the sound of the bag of garbage you’re carrying betrays you. You manage to return the smile — though you’re sure it’s awkward and unconvincing — as you make your way across the kitchen to dump the bag into the bin. He’s still not saying anything, and you’re still not sure how to feel about all of it. Realistically, you know you should really talk about everything that had happened, even if it was just a one-time, drunken make out. You just can’t quite get yourself to do it, though, and chicken out of saying anything as you dart out of the kitchen and up to your room.

Sitting on the edge of your bed, you grab your phone and dial a number you know by heart. Robin knows both you and Steve better than anyone else; surely she’ll know what you should do. The phone rings once, twice, three times, and finally she picks up with a grumbled, “Hello?”

“Hey, Robs. Did I wake you?” It’s nearly noon, but Robin’s night had been similar to yours — without all of the kissing, of course.

She huffs, and you can hear rustling from the other side of the phone as she shifts in bed, “Yeah, but it’s fine; need to get up anyway before my mom starts telling me about the dangers of drinking again. Like I drink all the time or something. Anyway, what’s up?”

Suddenly the butterflies are back, fluttering in your chest, as you rub your free hand over your face, “Do you, uh… Do you remember anything that happened last night? I dunno how drunk you were but—“

Robin is quick to cut you off, “If you’re talking about you and Steve sucking face, yeah I remember that.”

You groan in embarrassment, face and chest filling with heat as you whine into the phone, “Jesus, Robin. Do you have to say it like that?”

“Well! That’s what it was! What would you call it?”

“I dunno, anything but that! But that’s not— I called ‘cause… We haven’t talked about it. I don’t know if he even remembers or—“

A scoff cuts you off again and you can practically hear Robin’s eye roll, “Holy shit, can you just talk to each other please? I’m too hungover for this and Steve’s already called me about it.”

“He did?”

“Yeah, at like four in the morning. It was freaking ridiculous. He said he’d talk to you. I think. I don’t really know, I was half asleep.”

Something like hope stirs in you as you thank Robin and apologize again for waking her up before you hang up. A call in the middle of the night could be good or bad, but Robin hadn’t made it sound like it was anything bad. She’s known about your crush on Steve, going so far as to insist that the feeling is almost definitely mutual, but you’ve never had the courage to make a move. You know it’s now or never.

Opening your door, you run straight into Steve’s chest with a muffled ‘oof!’ His hand is raised, as if he had just been about to knock, but his arm quickly curls around your shoulders to steady you, “Whoa! Sorry, I didn’t mean to—“

Your own apologies spill out at the same time, “Shit, sorry! I didn’t know you—“

Nervous laughter erupts from both of you, easing some of the awkward silence as Steve takes a step back. He looks a little nervous, with pink cheeks and wide eyes, which is strange for Steve. Lifting a hand, he scratches the nape of his neck for a moment and then murmurs, “I was just— thought we should talk and…” He trails off, eyes darting to the floor and back up to you before he blurts out, “I remember.”

“You do?” is all you can think to ask, sounding much more eager than you want to.

“Y-yeah. I do.”

“Oh,” you breathe out, a ragged sound as your breath catches in your throat. “Is that… is that a good thing?”

Steve laughs, a sound of adoration, as his cheeks flush again, a dark pink underneath his pretty freckles and moles. He lifts a hand, fingers tugging at his messy hair, tongue darting out to lick his lips, “Um. I mean, I think so. If you also think it’s good. Unless you regret it, and in that case, we can totally forget it happened and—“

“Steve,” you say his name quickly to cut him off, the corners of your lips pulling up slightly as he stops mid-sentence.

“Yeah?”

You take a deep breath, and then just go for it, “I don’t regret it at all. I really… I really like you, Steve.”

“Oh. That’s— yeah, that’s good. Can I kiss you again? Since we’re, ya know, less drunk.”

When you nod, a little dumbstruck, Steve wastes no time in cradling your face in his hands as he steps in closer to you. His hands are warm against your skin, thumbs brushing out over your cheekbones as he gently tilts your face up towards his. His eyes flick to yours for a second, and then he’s kissing you.

This kiss is more delicate than the one you’d shared last night, though his lips are just as soft as you remember. He tastes less like alcohol this time, thankfully, and more like the fruity pebbles he’d eaten for breakfast, and maybe a hint of his minty toothpaste. You can’t help but melt into him, fingers curling into the worn fabric of his t-shirt to keep him close.

You accidentally let out a small noise of disappointment when Steve finally pulls back that makes him laugh, the tip of his nose nudging into the softness of your cheek. His lips brush over the corner of yours once more as he murmurs, “Thank god you let me kiss you again. I’d never have survived off of what I remember from last night.”

“You can kiss me any time you want, Steve.”

thanks for reading ilysm <3333

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington blurb #roommate!steve #roommate!steve harrington #robin buckley #best friend!steve #best friend!steve harrington #steve harrington one shot #sunshinesteviee writing #sunshinesteviee

1K notes · View notes

fandomxpreferences · 2 years

Text

Deja Vu

Pairing: Rooster x female!reader

Word Count: 3.8k (this got out of control lol)

TW:angst, description of injuries, fluff,swearing

Based on this request

A/N: I hope y'all enjoy this because its absolutely one of my favorite pieces so far and im so proud of it.Also did I scroll through dozen photos of miles and zoom in to figure out his eye color? yes I did.

Maverick watches everything happen in slow motion. He looks on helplessly as Rooster gets stuck in a jet wash and goes into a tailspin. His voice is stuck in his throat as he's forced to see the son of his former RIO suffer the same fate. The fate he promised Carol he'd protect her only son from. At that moment, all he knows is that Rooster hit the canopy as he ejected, floating to the ground completely limp. He mentally prepares to face you the same way he had to face Carol all those years ago.

You're standing in the kitchen putting groceries away when your phone rings. You close the fridge and look at the caller ID. Your heart rate speeds up when you see the picture of Maverick holding you in a headlock with a wide smile on his face. Rooster has been gone on a classified mission for the last two weeks. You don't know where he is or when he'll be back, but you know it should be at least another week.

You know that this was a no-contact mission, meaning Mav shouldn't be calling you. And if they're able to call, why would Mav call instead of Bradley? You pick up the device and hit the green button, bringing it up to your ear. "Hello? Mav?" You ask cautiously. You're terrified of what's waiting for you on the other end of the line.

"Y/N. I thought I should be the one to call." His voice is nervous, and it causes you to tremble with fear. "There's been an incident. Bradley's on a medevac but he's still a few hours out." On the other side of the phone, Mav is trying his best not to let you know how worried he is. It does no good, you can hear the distress in his voice.

"What happened? Is he okay?" You ask. You're doing your best to stay composed and get information, but the panic is leeching into your voice. Every second that you don't get an answer, you become more frantic.

You're brought back by the sound of Maverick's voice. "I…I don't know, Y/N. He-" there's a pause and you hear him take a shaky breath. "He had to eject and he-" Maverick stops again trying to steady his voice. You about rip your hair out waiting for the man to spit out what he's trying to say.

"He what, Pete?! I need to know what the fuck happened!" You bite out. You know it's harsh. You grew up with Bradley and know Mav is reliving one of the worst days of his life. But you need to know if you're about to suffer the same grief that you watched Carol carry until she took her last breath.

"He hit the canopy. He was limp when he hit the ground. He's alive, but I don't know anything else." He's crying now, but you're barely listening as your ears ring. You feel your blood run cold and your knees buckle, sending you crashing to the ground.

You don't know how long you've been spiraling, but you're launched back into reality at the sound of Maverick calling your name. "Y/N? Are you there?" He's yelling, so you figure he's been trying to get a response for at least a couple of minutes.

"You promised. You promised me you'd keep him safe." Your voice is small as tears begin to roll off your face and onto the hardwood floor. "Where are they taking him?" You ask, already reaching for your keys. You know Bradley's still hours away, but they're out of their fucking minds if they think you won't be there waiting when he arrives.

You vaguely register Mav's answer followed by him asking, "Is there anything I can do? Trust me, I'm doing everything I can to get there. I'm working with Ice now." You shake your head even though he can't see you.

"No," you tell him. "He trusted you, just like his dad. Look what that got them." You hang up, not bothering to wait for a response. You know it was cruel. You know you'll regret it later, but right now emotions are running high and all you can think about is being handed a folded-up flag as people look on with pity.

You get to the hospital in record time, rushing to the front desk. A kind-looking older lady is sitting behind a computer and you momentarily feel bad for startling her with your urgency.

"My husband, Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw, was in an accident on a mission. He's being flown here, but I was wondering if you had any more information." The words run together as they rush out of your mouth.

She gives you a warm smile and types for a few seconds. She glances up at you and you hate the sympathy in her eyes. You wonder for a second if that's a look you should get used to before she speaks. "I don't have any information on his condition, ma'am. All we've been told is to have a medical team and operating room on standby."

You thank her, barely holding yourself up as you stumble over to a chair. You plop down and just stare at the white wall in front of you. The sterile smell burns your nostrils and your eyes hurt from the harsh fluorescent lighting. You prepare yourself for the worst. You don't know a lot about hospitals, but you've seen enough TV to know having anything on standby isn't good. There must be hope if they're bothering to work on him, right? At least it was a medevac and not a search and recovery.

You don't know how long you've been trying to reason with yourself, spiraling around different scenarios. It must have been a while because your thoughts are interrupted by the sound of a helicopter. You know he won't be coming through the front, which you're grateful for. You don't think you could stand to see the doctors swarming him, yelling out orders and diagnoses that you can't make sense of.

You do, however, see the doctors running when their pagers alert them that your husband is here. The receptionist gives you a gentle smile, and assures you she'll let them know you're here waiting for an update. You must have dozed off because you're awoken by Maverick sitting next to you with two coffees.

You sit up and crack your neck, certain that you'll be sore from being slumped over in the stiff chair. He offers you a cup and you take it gingerly, giving him a remorseful smile. You open your mouth to apologize but you're cut off by the older man shaking his head and putting his hand up.

"Don't. You have nothing to be sorry for. You're scared and it's normal to lash out. It's water under the bridge." You nod your head and meet his eyes. He reaches out to hold your hand and that's all it takes. Within seconds you're crumbling into his arms, sobs wracking your body. He doesn't say anything. He just kisses your head and holds you firmly as you release the terror and panic that you've been swirling in all day.

It takes about an hour for you to settle down. You sit next to the man who's always been like blood to you, sipping your now cold coffee. It's silent aside from an occasional hiccup from you and the normal hustle and bustle of a hospital. There's no need to talk. There's nothing to say. All you can do is wait, and it's torture.

After another few minutes, the doors open and a doctor in scrubs walks out. Your eyes lift up to look at the woman. She looks tired. It's been 10 hours since Bradley arrived. You assume she's the surgeon who holds the rest of your life in her palms. Her eyes land on you and she takes a step forward. "Mrs.Bradshaw?" She questions and you shoot out of your chair, meeting her halfway. "Yes, that's me." You confirm, your voice wavering. She nods her head and looks over the chart in her hands.

"Your husband was in a nasty accident." She starts. You wait with bated breath and feel Maverick come up behind you, prepared to catch you if necessary. "He came in with a shattered clavicle and several broken ribs. His body hit the canopy, and it caused a pretty severe internal hemorrhage." You lean your weight on maverick, feeling your knees start to grow weak.

"I was able to stop the bleeding, but he needed three bags of blood. He has some pretty severe wounds and needed a total of 112 stitches. He's in a medically induced coma to help his body heal, but he is stable. We hope to bring him out of it in the next couple of days if all goes well." You stand there silently, trying to process the information.

She gives you the time you need and after a couple of minutes, you look back up. "Can I see him?" You ask. The doctor looks between you and Maverick a few times. Slowly, she nods and you feel like you've taken your first real breath since this started. "I have to warn you though, he's pretty beat up. It may be distressing." You shake your head. "I don't care. I need to see him." You croak.

"They're still getting him settled in, but I'll let a nurse know to come get you as soon as he's ready." She starts to walk away before turning back to face you. "For what it's worth, your husband is extremely lucky given the circumstances. Had his shoulder not taken the brunt of the force, he would have sustained a spinal injury or a traumatic brain injury. He’s fortunate not to be paralyzed. I've seen this exact situation play out very differently. At the end of the day, you still get to take your husband home and he will be his normal self after some physical therapy and rest. Just try to think of it that way when you see him." She tells you gently, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“Will he get to fly again?” You ask. If he loses his wings, Bradley will never be the same. It’s who he is and it would destroy him. She gives you a kind smile and nods. “It’ll be a while, but yes. He will be able to fly again.” You nod and she goes back the way she came.

Twenty minutes later, you and Mav are following a nurse down a bleak hallway. You stop outside a door and look at the number plate. 402. "You can go in whenever you're ready. If you need anything, don't hesitate to hit the call button." She informs you with a gentle tone. It's well past visiting hours and the hospital is empty. It's not customary for them to bend the rules, but you know Maverick must have pulled some strings because nobody gives you a second look.

You stand outside the door for a minute, bracing your head against it and white-knuckling the handle. You listen to the steady beeping coming from Bradley's room and try to remind yourself that it means he's alive. He's here and he needs you. You take a deep breath and push the heavy door open.

Nothing in the world could have prepared you for what was before you. As bad as the scenarios in your head were, this seemed worse. There was your husband laying on a hospital bed, but if you didn't know better you would have walked right past completely unaware. His usual golden skin was pale and clammy. The curls that he carefully styled every morning were messy and untamed, falling onto his forehead. He looked dead. You let out a choked whimper and collapse. Maverick must have been directly behind you because your knees never hit the cold tile.

Instead, you were lowered gently and cradled in strong arms. You felt like your heart had been ripped out of your chest and thrown in a blender. You clasp both hands over your mouth trying to stifle your gut-wrenching cries.

Behind you, Maverick feels his own tears fall. He's heard these deep, primal wails before. It was the same way Carol cried when he held her after Goose's death brought her to her knees.

Your eyes rake over his form, taking in all the wires and IVs poking and prodding his body. He's intubated and covered in bandages. You cry until you throw up, Maverick holding your hair back the same way he did Carol's. Maverick had always jokingly asked when you were giving him an honorary grandchild, but at this moment he's glad no child is waiting for you at home.

Maverick manages to settle you down, and you take your place at Bradley's bedside. The next couple of weeks are filled with updates from the doctors, promising he'd be woken up soon. After a couple days, the rest of the Dagger Squad made it back to solid ground and came first thing.

He wasn't as pale and ghastly by the time they arrived and you were glad. You would be seeing it in your nightmares for the foreseeable future, and you knew they already had their own trauma surrounding the incident.

They all took turns checking in on you. Bringing food and clothes, forcing you to shower and sleep. Maverick, Phoenix, and Hangman were the ones who came most often and stuck around the longest.

Bradley had grown quite close with the blonde aviator since the uranium mission, and in turn, you had too. Hangman promised Bradley that if anything ever happened, he'd take care of you. He was doing everything in his power to keep that promise.

It's been three weeks and the doctors have stopped the medication and removed the breathing tube. He's now in a coma with no end in sight. The doctors tell you he'll wake up when he's ready, that sometimes these things just happen.

You and hangman are having your usual chat and watching re-runs of shitty reality tv. He's brought you takeout, forcing you to take a bite every few minutes. Your clothes are baggy and your eyes are sunken in, the stress clearly taking a toll. You're in the middle of chewing when you see Bradley's hand move out of the corner of your eye.

Hangman notices you freeze and turns to look at you. "What is it? Are you okay?" He asks, giving you a visual assessment. You chew and swallow your food, almost choking. "He moved." You tell him, eyes boring into Bradley's hand.

Jake watches for a few minutes before placing a hand on your back. "Maybe you should get some sleep." He suggests. You shake your head aggressively, messy hair flopping around. "No. I'm telling you. He moved."

Jake is getting concerned you're starting to hallucinate when he hears Bradley's voice. "Did you bring me any or were you just going to eat in front of me?" His voice is scratchy and weak after not drinking any water for almost a month.

You jump out of your chair and grab his hand. "Oh my god. Bradley! I knew you'd come back to me." You're sobbing and he reaches up to wipe your cheek. "Hey, none of that. I'm right here." You lean into him, grasping his large hand in your own and holding it in place.

Jake hits the call button, and a nurse comes rushing in. The staff has become quite fond of you. You have the team bring them snacks and you spent many sleepless nights swapping stories, most of them being military spouses as well. Most importantly, you never hit the call button, not wanting to desensitize them for when this inevitably happened.

The nurse, who was the same one that took you to his room that first night, is smiling so big it looks like her face might split. "Mr.Bradshaw. Glad you decided to join us." She beams. She calls for a doctor and begins taking his vitals. She works around you, allowing you to stay glued to his side. Bless her. You make a mental note to send her a gift basket.

Jake leaves to call the rest of the team, and you sit in the room listening to the doctor. She looks over his charts and gives him a bright smile. "Well Lieutenant, it seems that coma served you well. You're healing up quite nicely. We'll keep you for observation just to be safe, and if all is well you can go home in the morning."

You leave Bradley for a moment and give the doctor a bone-crushing hug. "Thank you. For everything." You tell her. She laughs and returns the hug. "You're welcome. You've been a joy, despite the poor circumstances." She tells you, before turning and pointing at Bradley.

"You. Don't let me see you here again. This poor woman almost withered away. I've never had a loved one not leave the hospital for three weeks. Didn't even take a step outside for a walk or fresh air." She scolds playfully. She bids one last goodbye and leaves to give you two privacy.

"Come here, sweet girl." Bradley calls out and you rush to his side. His voice is almost back to normal since drinking some fluids and he's gotten his color back. He looks like your Bradley. He pulls you down and you sit on his bed careful not to hurt him. He grabs the back of your head and brings your lips to his. It's a bruising kiss filled with fear, relief, and love. You pull back for air and lock eyes with him.

You make a note to never take them for granted again. Five weeks without seeing his hazel eyes. You take in every gold fleck, committing them to memory. You were terrified you'd never see them again. Never look into them and see the love and adoration he holds for you. Bradley is the first to break the silence.

"I was so scared, Y/N." He confides with tears In his eyes. "All I could think about was my dad, and how I was going to leave you the same way he left me and mom. I kept picturing your face when you got the news. Kept seeing Mav hand you a folded flag and dog tags like he gave me at dad's funeral." He cries.

You shake your head, not wanting to think about it. That had been the only thing on your mind while you were waiting to find out if you were a widow. You place his hand over your heart. "No, Roo. None of that talk, okay? You're here. You're alive. You feel my heart? It beats for you. Only for you. I never want to think about that again, okay?" You tell him as a tear falls down your face.

Bradley brushes it away and kisses the wet streak it left in its wake. "No more crying, baby, You're too pretty." You give him a teary smile and pull back. "No more crying." You confirm, leaning forward to give him another kiss.

The room is filled with junk food and laughter as the whole team sits around catching up. You look around and smile, beyond happy that things are back the way they should be. Visiting hours come to an end and everybody says their goodbyes, promising to come to see him once he's home tomorrow.

You shut the door and turn to lean against it, facing Bradley. You give him a small smile and he returns the gesture. He waves you over and you make your way to his side. He lifts the blanket and pats the bed, signaling that he wants you to get in.

You shake your head gently. "You're still hurt, Roo. Besides, I don't think that's allowed." You reason. He scoffs and rolls his eyes. "Neither is you living here, but you're all moved in. I don't give a fuck what the policy is, I haven't slept with my girl for over a month. Get your cute ass in here." He retorts with a teasing tone. You give a defeated sigh, before gently crawling into bed.

You can't deny that you've missed this. You haven't gotten more than two hours of consecutive sleep since the accident. He pulls you tight against his chest and kisses your temple. Your eyes flutter shut as he runs his fingers through your hair, his other hand tracing up and down your spine.

"Get some sleep, sweet girl. You look like shit." You can hear the smirk in his voice and you gasp dramatically. "I thought you said I was pretty." You shoot back with mock offense. He chuckles and you feel him wince. "The prettiest. But that doesn't mean you don't look like you went three rounds with Rocky." He jests.

You're half asleep already when you respond. "You're lucky I love you." He lays his cheek on top of your head, smelling your shampoo. "The luckiest." He whispers, joining you in a peaceful slumber.

The next morning, you wake up to the smell of breakfast and Bradley's body moving. You raise your head to look at him, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. "I'm sorry if I woke you, baby. I have to sign this discharge paperwork." He explains. You look at the clock and see it's eleven. You slept for twelve hours.

One of your favorite nurses comes in and gives you a lazy grin. "Morning sleeping beauty." She quips. You groan, gently climbing out of bed and stretching your aching muscles. "I'm sorry if sleeping in the bed caused any issues." You say with a shy smile. She shrugs her shoulders. "I didn't see anything." She giggles, bringing her finger to her lips in a shushing motion. "This is why you're my favorite." You tell her fondly.

A couple hours later, you and Bradley are on your way home. You pull into the driveway and place your car in park. You help him out of the passenger side and go to grab the bags. Being in the coma for three weeks means the worst of his injuries is over. He still has to do physical therapy and take it easy, but he's doing considerably better and should be back to work within a couple months.

You turn around and see Bradley giving his Bronco an awkward hug. "I missed you so much." He whispers and you shake your head at his antics. "Jake came over every couple of days and drove it so the battery didn't die." You tell him. His head whips towards you. "You let hangman drive my pride and joy?" He asks with clear horror.

You scoff. "You trust him to take care of me, but not your truck?" You question with a raised eyebrow. His arms drop to his sides and he admits defeat. "Touche."

"Let's get inside. Everyone is coming over for a bonfire later and we need to get ready." You remind him.

The night is filled with laughter and loud music. Everyone swaps embarrassing stories and you take it all in, pressed firmly against Bradley's chest. You turn around and give your husband a sweet kiss, and he gives you a heart-stopping smile and wink. The next few months are going to be challenging, but as long as you have each other, you can get through anything.

#rooster top gun #rooster x reader #rooster imagine #rooster fluff #rooster angst #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #Bradley Bradshaw topgun #bradley bradshaw angst #bradley bradshaw fluff #top gun imagine #top gun maverick #top gun angst #top gun fluff

1K notes · View notes