#DON’T YOU SEE I HAVE ONE FOOT OFF THE LEDGE ALREADY
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i’m gonna need weverse to stop testing me
#I DON’T CARE ABOUT YOUR PRIVACY POLICY UPDATES#DON’T YOU SEE I HAVE ONE FOOT OFF THE LEDGE ALREADY#crystal rambles
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Neteyam Saving You As You Fall Off Lo’ak’s Ikran (SFW)
Reader is Fem! Omaticaya
CW: Near Death Experience, angst if you squint, Neteyam is incredibly angry, happy ending, passionate kiss ( this is a little ways into the future so the boys are a little older, but the events of TWOW never happened )
“Lo’ak, we need to head home. It’s past eclipse, and your father will wring both our necks if we do not come back on time,” you tried to reason, your hand shaking as you reached for the next rock on your climb up Ayram Alusìng.
“You worry too much, (y/n),” he smiled, waving you off as he hooked his foot on a nearby stone. “We’re almost there, so we might as well see this through. And once we get up there, we’ll be quick.”
“We will be quick about nothing,” you corrected, tone scolding, “I have already told you this, I have no wish to fly on an ikran. I am only here to ensure your safety.”
You and the youngest Sully son had spent half the day climbing the Hallelujah mountains so you could have a super tall jumping off point with Lo’ak’s ikran.
You tried telling him that you had plans with Neteyam tonight ( you two were going to go stargazing ), but Lo’ak said that he’d just go on his own. But you knew how reckless the boy could be, and didn’t want him to get hurt and be on his own.
“Don’t worry, we’ll be done before you know it,” his promise echoed through your head, now feeling foolish that you even remotely believed him.
And although you have told him many times that just because you are there, does not mean you are going to jump off anything, it seems to go in one ear and out the other.
Like most things for Lo’ak do.
“Oh, my safety?” he scoffed, an amused smirk playing on his lips.
You rolled your eyes, pinching his ankle, hard.
“Ow!” “Just keep climbing.”
He hooked his arm on the ledge, hoisting himself up onto it before rolling over on his stomach, resting his cheek in his palm as he watched you climb up the rocks.
“Ay! Lo’ak! What’re you doing?! Help me up!” you shouted, nervous.
You had been climbing all day, making the muscles in your arms sore and weak. You could feel yourself slightly slipping with every passing second.
“I think I’d rather watch you struggle,” he chuckled, smiling down at you.
He hadn’t noticed this.
Feeling your hand loosing it’s grip, you frantically looked around, trying to find something else to grab hold to.
“Lo’a-!” With a gasp, your hand slipped significantly, causing you to lose your footing and break off the rock that was keeping your feet in place.
“Shit!” Lo’ak exclaimed, quickly grabbing your forearm and pulling you up before you could fall off.
You flopped onto the piece of rock, panting as you stared up at the night sky, almost certain that you saw Eywa for a moment.
“(y/n), are you okay?” he asked, laying down next to you.
You huffed aggressively out your nose, holding up your finger in a gesture you saw Jake do once.
You didn’t know exactly what it meant, but it showed anger towards another, and that’s all you needed.
Lo’ak laughed loudly, standing himself up and looking down at your tired figure with a smile. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
He walked over to his ikran, making tsaheylu, before hopping on, turning around to face you.
“Are you coming?”
“Lo’ak. I am going to say this one final time,” you sighed as you stood up, trying to keep your composure.
“I will never,” you took a step closer.
“Ever,” another.
“Fly on an ikran,” you took a large one, poking a finger in his chest.
A smirk quirked on his lips as he hooked his arm around your waist and plopped you on the seat behind him, taking off before you could protest.
The ikran shot into the air quickly, making you scream of fright.
“WHOOOOO!” Lo’ak cheered as it flew straight up, going higher and higher and higher.
You paused your screams, turning around to look down, only to see the forest canopy far, far, far, below.
And with that, you fainted, falling off banshee.
“(Y/N)!” Lo’ak shouted, quickly turning around and diving for you.
The true reason why you wouldn’t fly was now revealed: you were deathly afraid of heights.
The Ayram Alusìng was the highest you’ve ever gone, and even that took an extreme amount of courage to conquer.
Your eyes fluttering open, you realized that you were free-falling, letting out another scream.
Lo’ak was too far above you to catch up, though he was frantically trying, and since you never took part in the Iknimaya, you didn’t have your own ikran to call out to.
This couldn’t be Eywa’s plan for you, to die so violently. You still had much in your life to complete, like your Tsahik training with Mo’at, or your hunting lessons with Neytiri.
Or Neteyam.
Oh, Eywa. You were going to die and never see him again. Never hold him again, never treat his wounds again, never see his smile again.
Tears welled in your eyes as you looked down again, the canopy getting closer and closer with every second.
You curled yourself into a ball, preparing yourself for the impact.
All other noise faded away, the rushing wind, the flap of an ikran, Lo’ak’s shouts, all fell on deaf ears.
“Great Mother, please give Neteyam a life of happiness when I am gone.”
And just as a tree was nearly a hair away, a familiar ikran swooped below you, two, strong arms catching you and holding you in a death grip.
Immediately recognizing the scent of your mate, you started to silently cry, resting your head on his chest.
“Neteyam,” you sniffled, curling into him.
“Mawhey, (y/n). I am here,” he assured, stroking your hair as he pulled the reigns, landing back on the mountain.
Lo’ak landed soon after and Neteyam jumped off the ikran, grabbing his brother off his and punching him in the face.
“Neteyam!” you exclaimed, shocked as you got off the banshee as well.
“Skxawng! What were you thinking?! (y/n) would have been killed had I not come in time!” he shouted, grabbing Lo’ak’s shoulders roughly.
Lo’ak looked ashamed, but inside he was relieved that you were alright.
You were his best friend. And if you died because of him, he could never forgive himself.
“Thank Eywa I felt something horribly wrong when you did not show up at our meeting place,” Neteyam looked at your saddend figure, a flicker of anger in his eyes still reserved for you.
“But you!” he turned back to Lo’ak. “How could you put my mate in danger?!”
“I did not mean to! We were flying as she fainted, but I didn’t notice she fell off until she was already far ahead of me!” Lo’ak feverishly explained.
He hadn’t seen his brother this angry in a long time.
Neteyam sucked his teeth, scoffing as he aggressively let go of Lo’ak.
“Go home. Now,” he order darkly, giving his brother one final glare.
Lo’ak hung his head, turning around and hopping back on his ikran.
He looked to you sadly, in silent apology, and you nodded, giving him the faintest of smiles.
You knew he never meant any harm, this just happened to be an incredibly close call.
As he flew away, Neteyam walked over to you, taking your hands in his.
“As for you,” he started, looking deeply into your eyes. “I heard you in the sky. Your prayer to Eywa.”
You turned way from him, ashamed.
“How can you think that I will ever be happy if you are dead?” his tone offended as he rested his forehead against yours.
“You are my Tsahik, my mate. I could never be truly happy without you by my side.”
“I see you, Neteyam,” you sadly smiled, softly placing your hand on his cheek. “And I am sorry.”
“I see you, (y/n),” he said back, his voice becoming deep as he lifted your chin. “And it is okay.”
And in a flood of emotion, you pulled him in by the nape of his neck, kissing him passionately.
He returned it, tilting his head and pulling you closer by your waist.
You both stayed like this, exchanging your relief before pulling apart, the safety of each other now returned.
And as you looked up at him lovingly, his beautiful smile now rested on his lips.
“Don’t think that kiss has saved you,” he smirked.
You playfully rolled your eyes, your smile growing as well as he scooped you up bridal style, carrying you towards his ikran.
#avatar#avatar 2#avatar the way of water#na'vi x reader#na'vi x y/n#neteyam x reader#neteyam x y/n#atwow x reader#atwow#omitacaya
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WARZONE.
Megumi couldn’t help it— Help his slight and ever-so-growing obsession over you, that is.
Ever since you, a new student, transferred to the Tokyo Metropolitan location of Jujutsu High he couldn’t help but be curious. Sure, it’s always the talk of the school if a new face shows up out of the blue… But you? It felt weird to him. He plastered on his signature stoic expression as he waltzed down the halls from his dorm, letting a faint yawn escape him as he neared Yuji’s door.
“Coming in, you better be wearing clothes or else,” he forewarned the boy, opening the door lazily and slowly removing his shoes. As he placed it neatly to the side of the door, an unfamiliar voice caught his attention.
“You don’t wear clothes? So you just walk around butt-naked and everything?”
The sound of Yuji’s whining instantly pierced his ears right after. “No! Megumi only enters my room after my shower, so technically… Not my fault!”
The boy in question rolled his eyes and walked around the corner of the entrance, seeing you and Yuji situated at his PC.
Megumi let out a soft sigh of relief and muttered out, “Just so you know, normal people wear clothes after they take a shower.”
“W-Why are you still acting like I’m completely naked?” Yuji groaned out, slumping in his gamer chair with a loud huff. “I had socks on.”
Megumi could see your expression in the corner of his eyes, a look of disbelief and pure confusion.
“… Socks?” You reiterated, blinking blankly at the boy in front of you.
“Yeah. Socks,” Yuji replied, perhaps a little too proud of his statement. A soft slap sound from Megumi’s palm met his forehead as he shook his head.
“But you didn’t think underwear would be the priority?” he deadpanned.
“My feet get cold,” Yuji replied and casually grabbed a nearby chip packet from his drawer of endless snacks. “Anyway, whatcha doin’ here Megumi?”
This time, Megumi looked around in thought, pondering about why the heck he was even there in the first place.
“I need some paper,” he boredly responded, making a beeline to the opposite side of the room in a hurry. Hell, he had no idea if his only chance to not look like a fool in front of you was actually going to be there, but with little hope, he continued to stride over to Yuji’s messy bookshelf.
He scanned from top to bottom, bottom to top, side to side, his eyes were getting overstimulated with how much Yuji had stuffed all kinds of trinkets on the ledge of the shelves.
“Lined? Blank? Ooh, or these fancy eco-friendly ones I made?” Yuji called out to Megumi, shuffling out three small stacks of different types of paper. Megumi let out a shaky breath, of course they would be at his desk. The very area he wanted to avoid. He turned around and reluctantly hobbled back.
“Lined.”
Taking one sheet from the stack, he swivelled his stature away again to the entrance, obviously leaving you and Yuji bewildered.
“Just one sheet of paper?” You asked Megumi, who was struggling to step into his boots.
“Yeah,” he muttered, grunting as he finally slipped his foot in after struggling for what felt like a century. He could already feel a thin layer of cold sweat form along his nape as you spoke.
Yuji turned to you and shrugged his shoulders, before patting you roughly on the arm. “Can you force him to stay? I need another person on my team for Warzone.”
“Why don’t you ask him? He’s still here—“
The sound of the door shutting at the front was enough for you to shut up instantly.
“— Nevermind.”
At your words, the pink-haired boy stretched his arms up and stood on his feet, rolling his shoulders as if he was preparing to lunge into battle. The mischievous glint in his eyes gave you the impression that he was, in fact, going to fight off his dear friend for him to play a game… Or prepare himself to be beat up, and then plead his surrender. As much as you wanted to watch the gruesome battle between two teenaged boys have a bickering show-down, you interrupted Yuji and pushed him back into his chair.
“Fine, let me talk to him,” you sighed, before heading your way to the entrance. Yuji on the other hand squealed in delight, following right behind you before grabbing hold of your wrist to high-five his hand with yours.
“Great because I was really not looking forward to another argument— I mean, I would win of course… But I would feel bad for Megumi if he lost! Soooooo… I’ll let you talk to him,” Yuji exclaimed, boastfully leaning against the doorframe with his chin held high. You stood outside his dorm room and shut the door in his face, before walking to Megumi’s room right beside his.
You knocked once. Twice. Possibly three times, you’ve lost count, until it finally opened. Megumi opened the door with a grumble, not bothering to look up as he barked, “I don’t need anymore paper—“
“Not about paper,” you added, peeking your head around the slight crack he managed to pry open. “Come play Warzone.”
Megumi eyed you blankly and you couldn’t help but feel a bit weirded out. Was there a strand of hair sticking up? Something wrong with your face? No, it was him trying to calm his nerves and train his brain to go back into his zen state of mind for a moment— Just for a second! So he can actually talk to you properly without worrying about stammering his words. Thankfully, it’s something he’s good at.
“Warzone?” he questioned before sighing, “Did Yuji ask you to do this?”
“Yes and no,” you glanced back at Yuji’s closed door, before turning your attention to Megumi again. “I guess he was pre-planning to ask you and it seemed like he was really getting into it, so I just offered.”
Megumi stiffened. If there was one other thing Yuji was good at, it was be subconsciously picking up on emotions at the right times (only the right times, he’s not giving him that much credit), and perhaps he had caught on to Megumi’s white lie he suddenly used. It was a stupid cover-up, he had tons of paper in his room already.
“Ahh, I see,” he mumbled before quietly stepping out of his room and closing the door behind him. You smiled at his acceptance to your invitation and walked back to Yuji’s room with Megumi trailing behind.
“… You’re new, right?” he asked, stuffing one hand in his pocket and using the free one to reach out to open the door for you.
You quickly thanked him, entering Yuji’s bedroom and hearing his screams. He must be in a practice game by now waiting for the both of you. The muffled sounds of gunshots and comms gave you enough context.
“Didn’t think you’d notice,” you said playfully with a laugh, making your way inside and opting to sit on Yuji’s bed. Megumi trailed in and flopped onto the free chair next to Yuji, and continued to talk to you. “You seemed the type to be in his own world”
“Well, I am… But, I did,” he responded to you quietly with his eyes locked onto the screen. A faint ‘nice kill’ emerged from his lips as he watched Yuji’s fingers fly across the desk with his mouse, headshotting an opponent. His eyes flicked back to you in intervals and tapped the tips of his fingers on top of the desk. He cleared a lump in his throat before breaking the awkward silence between you two.
“So, why did you transfer here?— To this school I mean. Not in a rude way,” he stammered, briefly looking at your face and turned back to look at Yuji’s screen. He wanted so badly to crush his forehead into the wall.
“Came here from the Kyoto region, I think Gojo wanted me to be here,” you mumbled, watching Yuji completely get demolished in the game.
“If Gojo sees potential in you, you must seem like a well-adaptable individual,” he added, eyes still glued to the screen. “That being said— he also has the urge to take someone under his wing if you’re substantially adorable to him and are in need of his ‘educational expertise’… As so he would call it.”
You let out chuckle, letting your gaze wander to the two bodies haunched over the screen; Yuji, childishly hogging the keyboard even though he wanted Megumi to play with him, and Megumi, not caring in the slightest. As you looked at him, the subtle glance of your eye caught you off guard— He was already looking at you.
“What?” you mouthed at him, narrowing your gaze until he shakes his head. A hand comes up to gently rub his cheeks, covering the slight smile you didn’t see. The faintest hue of pink dusted his cheeks, reaching down to the column of his neck.
“Nothing.”
____________
AN; SYEREN here! been a while, how’ve you been? :3
#jjk#jjk megumi#jjk x reader#jjk x y/n#jjk x gender neutral reader#jjk fluff#megumi fushiguro#megumi x reader#jujutsu kaisen megumi#megumi fluff#megumi fushiguro fluff#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader
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Dirty Work 39
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.
Characters: Loki
Note: I slept a lot better so you get a touch longer chapter today.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
You sit in the mud, mortified. You want desperately to leave but you don’t have the strength to do so. Your flight might be seen for exactly what it is; cowardice. You don’t have much but you have a sliver of dignity to you.
So you pretend. Just like those years you went to school and pretended everything was okay. That your father wasn’t awful and your house wasn’t dingy and smoky. All this time you’ve put your head down and obeyed Mr. Laufeyson as if you had no other purpose. You can do it.
You mimic Sif and stay reclined. You close your eyes and try to enjoy the soft harp music plucking from speakers. You should’ve gone with Frigga. A bit of sweat is better than stewing in dirt and shame.
Your mind races. How long is normal? When can you leave without giving away that doubt gnawing in your stomach? Why would you want to leave? So you can go back and face Mr. Laufeyson? What will you tell him? Do you tell him?
“Thank you, babe, marvelous,” Hela’s silky voice interrupts the din. You open your eyes and look over as her lithe figure slinks in like a cat, “where is she? Ah there you–”
Hela stops short as her eyes flick from you to Sif. The other woman remains silent, eyes closed as she is unbothered by the disturbance.
Hela sets down the glass on the ledge of the tub next to hers and swipes off her robe, handing it over to the attendant behind her. Her skin is rosy and damp already.
“Sif Sigmund,” Hela declares as she lowers herself into the mud bath, “what a coincidence.”
“Is it?” Sif opens a single eye, “what with Walpurgisnacht coming so quickly, you must be hard at work.”
“I didn’t know you were back in town.”
“Nor I you,” Sif rebuffs, “I always thought you loathed it here.”
“Passing through,” Hela dismissed, “family.”
“And the help?” Sif suggests as she opens her other eye and looks at you.
Hela snickers, “the help?” She echoes, “some of us can be friends with other women, honey.”
“Friends?” Sif squints, “I never knew that to be a line with you.”
“Don’t be jealous, it looks awful on you,” Hela retorts.
“Jealous? You Odinsons always thought so highly of yourselves.”
“So highly you wanted to be one of us,” Hela snipes and lifts her glass, “babe, this is a spa, I’ve come here to relax, not argue with homewreckers.”
Sif’s lips press tightly. You gulp and peer between the women, confused. There’s animosity there which both reassures you and worries you. Despite Frigga’s praises, it doesn’t seem the gorgeous black-haired beauty left on the best foot. Or rather, this a show of how the Odinsons can be vengeful to those who do not fit into their pretty little picture.
Your eyes meet Sif and her thick brows slant. She scoffs and shakes her head.
“Not much of a home to wreck,” she mutters before she takes a sip.
You look away and resist the urge to drown yourself in the mud. Will she be attending Walpurgisnacht? Should you warn Laufeyson? Your chest racks at the thought. You don’t think he would take it as caution, he might even be upset at the mention of her.
Better to just keep your mouth shut and do as you’re told.
✨
You return to the Odinson abode less than refreshed. As Frigga and Hela glow, you feel a dark cloud around you. You keep thinking about that woman; Sif. Just the thought of her name makes you shrivel up. So tall and sleek and elegant. You don’t know why you care so much, you and Laufeyson have an arrangement, not a relationship.
As you pass through the front door, Frigga proclaims that she’ll have some iced tea and snacks put out on the veranda for the evening. You nod and wave your bag wordlessly, you’ll hang your dress upstairs and return.
You scurry up the staircase and slip through the double doors of the bedroom. You linger at the threshold, looking around. Something seems amiss. Something’s… different but you can’t place it.
You go to the wardrobe and hang the dress within, but itself. Your hand flutters over the sewn on silk flowers. It’s so pretty, you don’t know if you should even wear it. You’ll look like a child playing dressup. Maybe you should ask Laufeyson if you should even attend; you could stay in the kitchen and help like you did with Corissa.
You close the wardrobe and flit back out. Before you can reach the stairs, you hear a familiar thunderous timbre. You stop at the rolling voice.
“Father, I have been on my best behaviour. I don’t see why I shouldn’t have my reward…”
Your eyes round and you quickly press on. You shouldn’t be listening. That’s none of your business. Besides, the last thing you need is to run into Thor again. Especially alone.
Downstairs, you find the house desolate. You go into the kitchen and see the elder maid at the counter, stirring ice into a deep blue mixture. Gertrude, you remember. You give a measly hello and rush through to the veranda doors.
Hela is already sat, her head tilted up to the sun as her eyes are hidden beneath her big blocky sunglasses. She doesn’t flinch as you claim a seat of your own, nearly curling up in a ball atop it. He fans herself with her long fingers.
She sighs as Gertrude emerges to serve the iced tea, declaring it wild blueberry before retreating. You fidget but don’t move to pour a glass. You’re thirsty but too distracted to worry about your chalky tongue.
“Did you have a productive conversation with Sif?” Hela frightens you as she sits straight.
“Um, I didn’t say much,” you shrug.
“I wouldn’t think, but did she?”
You shake your head. She didn’t say much of anything. You suspect you aren’t worth her breath.
“Hm, nothing about my brother… brothers?”
“Well… she introduced herself and told me to send her regards to Mr. Laufeyson–”
“Oh, babe, don’t do that. Surely don’t,” she warns. “Ugh, what a pot stirrer she is.”
You frown. Of course you wouldn’t have carried that message. You couldn’t bring yourself to even say her name to Mr. Laufeyson. You’ve seen how his eyes darken when he hears it.
“Look, babe,” Hela plants an elbow on the armrest of her chair, “we should clear the air.”
You tweak your head to the side. What does she mean?
“I know I got carried away when we first met. We both did. I sense there is some tension left between us but we must move past it, yes? It was a bit of fun, nothing more. I can’t have you getting confused,” she flutters her fingers, “I see a pretty thing and I want to play with it but I’ll spare you the pain, you’ve enough bother with my brother. I have a rather short attention span.”
You blink, “oh…kay.”
“So we’re agreed, as fun as this would be, it’s simple to messy,” she smirks, “not that I mind a mess.”
You nod and reach for the pitcher to distract yourself. That day flashes in your mind; the clothes, the mimosas, her lips… you almost forgot it all in the whirlwind of the last few days. You think she may have too until that very moment.
“Darlings,” Frigga emerges in deep pink cotton, “oh, look at this, delicious.”
She sits and uses the tiny golden tongs to serve herself a plate of artisanal crackers then uses the knife to scrape on some of the soft cheese. You watch her, your stomach growling even as it turns. You’re too anxious to eat.
This whole thing is ripe to be a disaster. No, you will be the disaster.
✨
You excuse yourself from the table. You need to lay down. You’ll retreat and hide until Mr. Laufeyson comes to find you. That’s all you can do.
You’re cautious as you climb the stairs, almost wishing you’d ask for an escort. You listen for the same boisterous echo as before. It’s quiet. You let out a breath; no Thor.
You let yourself through the double doors and close them firmly. You turn the lock and it schlocks into place. The house is so still and silent, it’s ominous. You blame your addled wits and the long day. You’re on edge after the chaos of it all and that to come.
You go to bed and sit. You hang your head and sigh. You rub your cheeks and slowly raise yourself up, looking around as you once more feel something is off. Your luggage… you left it against the wall, still unpacked, and now, it’s not there.
You stand and peer around, spinning. Where would it have gone? Did Gertrude or Frida, the maids take it? You go back to the wardrobe, it’s still empty. As you turn and near the dresser, a click makes you wince. You look at the doors, they remain locked and sealed.
The clearing of a throat draws you around to face the bathroom door. You hadn’t noticed before that it was closed. Now it’s open but still filled. Mr. Laufeyson surprises you as he wears only a robe and smirks at you. Has he been waiting?
“Mr. Laufeyson,” you titter as you mash your palms together. “I didn’t know you…”
He puts a finger to his lips to hush you, a coy smirk twisting his lips. He turns his hand and curls his fingertip, beckoning you across the room. Shakily, you pull your hands apart and march over to him. He backs up, opening the wide door with him to reveal the sparkling bathroom. You enter hesitantly, unsure, eyes scanning frantically.
You stand in the doorway as he backs up. Your eyes bounce around the space desperately and finally stop as you find your laptop, the laptop he provided you, open on the counter. You shift uncomfortably, a tide of confusion welling over.
“Mr. Laufeyson, what’s…”
He hushes you again, this time with a hiss. You snap your mouth shut and swallow your voice. You look at him, not in the face, but at his throat and how it constricts.
“Pet, you are such a diligent worker. I admire that about you,” he begins, his voice like the distant threat of a storm, “truly, you’d not be here if I didn’t. You’ve ever been so thorough.”
There’s a mocking lilt in his words. Your shoulders slump and you wilt, waiting for the truth. Waiting for the insults you know must dance on his tongue to escape.
“But I didn’t expect you to be so…exhaustive in your research,” he goes to the laptop and taps the space bar to wake up the screen. You frown as he waves you closer.
As you step up, your heart clenches at the first noise. A man’s growl. You don’t understand until you see the screen clearly. You’d watched the video on mute but you know it by sight. That shower one he’d nearly caught you with before. You didn’t even think to erase your history.
“Pet,” he angles to you and touches your cheek. You flinch and hug yourself, “you are a naughty little minx, aren’t you?”
“Mr. Laufeyson,” your voice is hollow and quiet, “I didn’t… I was curious…”
“If you are so curious,” he lets his hand trail down our neck and along your shoulder, “well, you could always ask me.”
He grips your upper arm and pulls it from across your chest. He makes you face him as your heart batters your ribc age. You’re lightheaded as the colours of the screen move in your peripheral and the low volume tickles in your eardrums. You sway as Mr. Laufeyson holds onto your arms.
“Pet,” he drags his hands up and down your arms, “you needn’t be so shy. Didn’t we have a wonderful night?”
You bat your lashes and nod. It was nice but… you’re still not her. You’ll never be her. You’re just a thing to him. Like Hela said, ‘a pretty thing’ or ‘creature’, as Thor taunted, a ‘maid’.
“Well, pet, I’ve reviewed your research,” his hands move to the front of your blouse and he tugs on the fabric, “and come to my own conclusions.”
He yanks as you stand paralysed. You only raise your arms as you sense his frustration. You stare straight ahead, barely processing what’s happening as he undresses you. Your skirt falls down your legs as he traces its path with his touch. He rolls down your stocking and circles around you to unhook your bra.
He pauses as he dips his thumbs under the fabric of your panties and bow to growl along your crown. He rips them down and lets them drop to your feet. He wraps you up in his arms, groping your chest as he rocks you. You feel his arousal, his need. You wouldn’t think of it as desire; he doesn’t truly want you, he wants what he can do to you.
“Pet, why don’t you run us a shower,” he slithers against your ear.
“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson,” you eagerly escape his embrace as he lets you go.
You focus on the easy task. You go to the shower and slide back the glass door. You crank on the faucet, testing the water with your fingers until you have the right temperature. You are deliberate in each step, ignoring his movement behind you.
You squeak as he’s right against you again, his robe gone. He urges you into the show and slides the door shut in his stead. He holds you flush to him, an arm hooked around your middle as his other finds your chin. He turns your head as he leans his own around to meet your lips. His hard dick presses into your back as he groans into you.
His tongue delves deep into your mouth, his kiss sloppy and greedy. You let him do whatever he pleases, doing your best to play along. Your skin speckles with more than the heat of the shower as it reminds you of that video.
What did he think when he discovered that? Why had he been nosing through your things anyhow? Well, they aren’t truly yours, they belong to him, just like you do. Just another possession among his collection.
His hands rove up and down your body, exploring it as the showerhead slakes you in hot water, furling your bodies in steaming. He feels along your stomach and down your pelvis. His fingers crawl down to your cunt and urges your feet apart with one of his. He rubs you until you gasp.
He pulls his mouth from yours as tiny wisps puff from your mouth. You shake at the buzzing thrum of his touch. You don’t want to feel but you feel everything. He’s stealing that from you. Using you any way he likes.
And you let him. That’s your job. That’s what you agreed to.
He shifts back, coolness filling the space between your bodies as his hand slips from your cunt. He grasps your thigh and lowers himself to his knees behind you. You let out a strangled noise as he grips your hips and leads you backwards.
“Put your hands on the wall, pet,” he demands.
Obedience. That’s your only skill. You take orders. You do what you’re told. You do what’s expected.
He trails his hand around the back of your leg as he bends you at an angle. He keeps his other hand firmly around your hip as he plays with you, swiping up and down your folds, poking and prodding and swirling. He stops along your entrance and you clench as he delves into you.
One finger he presses his thumb to your clit. He rocks his hand, quickly stirring your pleasure. Then another finger, the strain making you whimper. Your fingers curl against the tile and your thighs quake. He pushes into you, over and over, until you’re panting wildly.
As if he senses you teetering on the precipice, he pulls his fingers from you. You quiver as the emptiness tamps the rising swell. He edges you back further so you bend deeper, keeping your palms to the wall. His hand swerves back around the front of your leg and he glides between your folds once more.
Something tickles against your cunt from behind and suddenly a warmth mingles with your own heat. You squeal as you realises what he’s doing. He buries his face into you from behind, tilting your hips as he sloppily laps at you, replacing his fingers with his tongue. The coil in you twists back into place.
Oh god. It’s even better. You’ve never felt like this before. Hot and cold at the same time, shaky and willowy, unable to think as you’re swept away completely. You close your eyes, throwing your head back as you arch your spine, welcoming him.
He groans and growls as he drinks you up, pushing you closer and closer, fluttering his fingers against you between the flick of his tongue. Then, all once, he stops. You’re there, ready to take the plunge, ready to dive into the sheer pleasure coursing through you like a river, and he just stops?
“Say my name,” he nips your bottom, “say it when you cum.”
You gulp, “Loki..” you utter uncertainly.
His only assurance is him diving back into you. His tongue furiously flicks and swirls and laps and begs for more. You feel your slickness smearing across his lips, flowing onto his tongue, and that adds to the vibrant effect of his eager tending. You choke and gasp and let the rise overcome you.
“Lo… Lo…” you quake as your insides knot, “Lo…ki.” You puff and whine as it all erupts, “Loki!”
Your thighs tremble as he purrs through your orgasm. He delights in you pouring yourself into him, surrendering to him as you stand on your toes, leaning into the wall to keep yourself from collapsing. But he doesn’t stop. Not this time. Even as you're ready to scream and slap him away.
He keeps going. He keeps going even though you can’t bear it. He’ll keep going and you’ll let him. That’s the deal. Your body is his but your mind is your own. You’ll just do your best not to think too much.
#loki#dark loki#dark!loki#loki x reader#fic#dark fic#dark!fic#series#au#maid au#dirty work#avengers#mcu#marvel#thor
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Here Kitty, Kitty ― Chapter Five
CW: the sliiiightest suicidal idealization if you squint
WC: 901
It was becoming increasingly hard to ignore Jeonghan’s blatant flirting as you tried to pay attention to the chemistry lecture, pretending you weren’t at all affected by his smooth words. He was quickly proving to be quite the charmer and you could feel your resolve slipping. Your hands continued to type out the notes but nothing was registering in your head, just the sweet words he continued to whisper towards you.
“Jeonghaaaaaaaaan” You let out an uncharacteristic whine, trying to get the older to stop. The professor had begun to go on about an upcoming project, something you were definitely not looking forward to. “I’m trying to listen to the instructions about the project. You know, the one that’s worth like half our grade,”
“Sorry, it’s just so hard to pay attention to boring lectures when there’s something else I’d rather have my eyes on,” you can practically hear the smirk on his face as you roll your eyes, however the blush creeping on your cheeks betrays you and tells him a different story. Still, you do your best to focus on the lecture that seems to drone on and on while Jeonghan on your other side smiles rather smugly. He can tell that despite the way you act indifferent, his words are most definitely affecting you as he watches the apple of your cheeks turn a pretty red. He’s rather satisfied, so he relents, letting you be for the rest of class.
When class is finally dismissed and you’re putting away your laptop, you turn to face the male next to you. Jeonghan tilts his head in response, looking oddly catlike for a wolf.
“So do you wanna work on the lab at your house?” You question, to which he simply raises his eyebrows at you before a chuckle leaves his lips.
“That’s fine with me. That is, if you’re alright with the other 12 people who will probably be all over you the moment you step foot in our house,” You cringed almost immediately, forgetting about the multiple other wolves trying to get your attention in any way possible. Even if it meant pissing off their alpha. You’re biting at your lower lip before letting out a sigh.
“Fine, we can do it at my house. This weekend, Saturday at one? Is that ok?”
“Works for me,” The two of you exchange numbers before parting, though you don’t notice his lingering gaze on your retreating form.
Needing some air and time away from his rambunctious brothers, Chan finds himself heading towards the roof of the history building. A quiet place no one else really went, a perfect hideout for the werewolf when he just didn’t want to think - sitting under the sun and letting his worries wash over him. When he opened the doors however, he was surprised to find that he wasn’t alone, a single lone figure sitting precariously on the ledge. Curious, he comes closer to inspect who it could possibly be and is once again surprised to find you, the mysterious new girl that his brothers had set their eyes on.
“You’re - not gonna jump are you?” He questions rather insensitively, not thinking he could possibly offend you with his words; or worse, startling you and throwing you off balance, sending you tumbling to the ground. The history building was at least three stories and any normal person might not survive a fall from that high. Maybe if they were lucky they’d just break their legs.
You didn’t even flinch though, having already smelled him coming closer. A small giggle escapes your lips and the sound vibrates in his ears, wanting to hear more.
“Jump?” You scoff, rolling your eyes despite the fact that your back was facing him and he couldn’t see your reaction. “Believe me, I would if I could,” Your voice has a bitter edge to it and it makes him more curious about you, the mystery surrounding you had intrigued the rest of his brothers and he’d be lying if he wasn’t interested.
There’s an awkward silence that occurs between the two of you afterwards, and Chan gets the feeling he has said something he shouldn’t. Before he can even utter an apology, it’s you who asks him a question instead.
“Do you know the saying? You know, that a cat will always land on its feet?” You turn your neck to look over at him, blinking slowly as you wait for his answer but he only furrows his eyebrows in confusion.
“Uh, yeah. But why?” He blinks at you in return but your lips curl into a smirk. You look away, this time leaning further over the edge of the building. Your legs bend slightly and you prepare yourself to jump. Chan notices what you’re trying to do a little too late, watching in horror as you leap off the roof and fall to the ground.
He rushes to the ledge in pure shock only to find you perfectly fine on the ground, hands clapping together as if getting rid of invisible dust. You glance up at him with an innocent smile on your face before waving him goodbye. Chan can do nothing but watch you walk away. There are a million questions running through his mind, none of them making any sense and he knows that you’re going to plague his thoughts for at least the rest of the day.
#seventeen#seventeen x reader#seventeen scenarios#seventeen reactions#seventeen imagine#seventeen fic#seventeen series#seventeen au#seventeen imagines#seventeen fluff#seventeen angst#svt x reader#seventeen werewolf au
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Language Barrier
As an avid Genshin fan, you've read the fics. You know when you somehow magically arrive in Teyvat and everyone immediately recognizes you that your life is about to become a SAGAU knock-off. You expect angry archons, friendly slimes, and to be constantly running for your life.
What you didn't expect was this.
Chapter 1
(~1.3k words, see chapter list here)
You should have expected this.
You should have expected it when you woke up at Windrise mid-afternoon, disoriented and unsure how you got there. Had your favorite game somehow sucked you into it? Sure, you'd read a few fanfics, but kind of stuff didn't happen. Not really.
You should have expected it when you stubbed your toe hard on a tree root, assuring you that you were not, in fact, dreaming, and you really were in the wonderful world of Teyvat. Somehow.
And you definitely should have expected it when you set foot on the bridge to Mondstadt, sending all the pigeons up in the air and sending Timmie screeching incoherently toward the front gate. Oops. (You didn't notice that the birds landed again almost immediately, because you were too busy worrying about whether or not you'd be reprimanded. Surely not, right?)
All the signs were there, you think to yourself, as the townspeople start to whisper - very obviously - around you. The knights that usually guarded the gate were already gone by the time you got there, and now you realized they were probably off to alert the Acting Grandmaster of your arrival.
The arrival of an imposter.
You had somehow made it all the way to the plaza in front of the cathedral before being surrounded, because that was where you'd stopped to stare up in awe (and dawning fear) of the giant statue: one that looked not like Venti, as it had in the game, but instead disturbingly similar to you. That was when you'd finally noticed a growing crowd on the outskirts of the plaza; the whispers, the blatant stares, the way nobody seemed to want to meet your eye. That was when it all clicked.
Why me.
...I'm going to have to run for my life, aren't I?
Frantically, you glance around the plaza. There are a few gaps by the ledge overlooking the city - the one you've jumped off of numerous times in the game - but you're instantly reminded of the fact that, unlike the traveler, you don't have a glider. You do a 180°, look to the left, and stiffen when you see a number of knights rushing up the stairs, lead by the Dandelion Knight herself. Oh crap. You immediately whip to the right, only to see a flash of red hair pushing through the crowd. Oh shit.
Fuck it. You're jumping. It wasn't that high of a fall, right? Maybe you'd only sprain your ankle a little bit and still manage to escape. You're certainly not strong enough to fight them off.
Not wasting any time, you make a mad dash for the ledge. A few wide-eyed citizens cry out as you dodge in between them, and shouts ring out behind you, but the voices overlap enough so that you don't catch what they're saying (though you have a pretty good idea). You slam into the low wall, boost yourself over the edge, and-
Oh.
That's...
...a lot higher than you remember it being.
...And strangely, it's only getting higher... why is the ground getting further away instead of closer!?!?
The wind steals your shriek as you're lifted into the air by a gust of wind that is by no means natural. You fling your arms out, hoping to find purchase on something to steady yourself, but of course, there's nothing. The impromptu current whisks you back upwards towards the plaza, and for a moment you're worried it will dump you right back in the sea of people, but once it reaches a certain altitude, it zips away in the opposite direction. You can barely manage a glance over your shoulder at the shocked crowd before you're skating over the rooftops and past the city walls.
At first, panic gnaws at your chest as the wind carries you east, away from civilization. Sure, you needed a quick escape, but you have no idea where it's taking you now. Did the winds of Teyvat sense your imminent demise and decide to rescue you? Sometimes that sort of thing happens in stories, doesn't it? In that case, wherever we're headed should be safe, right? Just as the thought crosses your mind, the wind begins to lessen - not in strength, but in speed; enough for you to catch your breath, at least. With the city out of sight, it relaxes into a slight dip, before weaving to the right, and then bouncing up again over a nonexistent hill, almost like a roller coaster ride. Not quite sure how to react, you nonetheless let out a breathless chuckle as it swoops downward into a curve.
The makings of a grin slip onto your face. Okay, so you woke up in a real-life SAGAU fic. Everyone in Mondstadt wants to kill you, and the other nations will soon, if they don't already. You'll be on the run for who-knows-how-long. Probably the rest of your life, since you have no idea how you'd go about proving your innocence, since you obviously didn't really mean to impersonate the Divine Creator or whoever. Or maybe it was one of those where you actually were the real god, but it didn't really matter, because you didn't know how you would go about proving that, either.
You should be thinking about any and all of those things, but...
Riding the wind like this is so fun.
Is this what it feels like to fly? The wind tousles your hair, and a cool breeze brushes your cheeks, a sign of the land's descent into nighttime. Ahead, you can see the moon rising above Starsnatch Cliff, which for once does not appear to be populated by a young couple and an irritated bodyguard. Instead, a sole silhouette stands at the edge of the cliff, bathed in starlight. You squint, trying to make out who it could be, but there's no need. The wind was already carrying you straight in their direction, but now it starts to slow, as if this is your stop.
And when you get a little closer, you realize why.
It was not Teyvat who had come to your rescue after all.
You're no longer sure it was a rescue.
The Anemo Archon plucks the strings of his lyre calmly as you descend. The wordless tune echoes in the cool night air as your feet touch the ground with nary a sound, and you stand stiffly. Running is futile, that much is easy enough to understand. All those fanfics where the imposter manages to evade a cast of overpowered vision wielders and archons are bullshit. Man, I'm so fucking dead. Dead, dead, dead. Can I still talk my way out of this? What do I even say?
The last few notes of the melody linger in the air for a few moments before either of you speak. And then-
"Look, I know what this looks like, but I'm not your god. Or at least, I'm not pretending to be. I could be, I guess, but if I am I don't know it, and if I'm not, it's just a coincidence that we happen to look alike - barely even similar at all, really - I could cut my hair or something if it bothers you that much, so I really don't think you need to wipe me off the face of the earth, that seems like overkill, especially for one teensy tiny mistake that's not even my fault, that's just crazy... what are you giving me that look for?"
Venti, who is in fact quite hard to ruffle, is indeed giving you an odd look; you imagine it's one akin to if Diluc caught him sneaking into the cellar of the Dawn Winery (something you're sure has happened at least once), but a bit more... serious. You swallowed. "What?"
The bard thinks for a minute, gives a surprisingly in-character giggle, and says with his trademark grin, "Xaue kigxm, so jogxlg o ztgi jtgzyxkjta g jxuc kxaue mtoegy."
What.
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i'll be the dangerous ledge (you be the parachute)
━ chapter four: even if it hurts | read chapter three
━ pairing: tim drake x f!reader
━ word count: 4.3k
━ warnings: none
━ masterlist
The next morning, you wake up in your own bed. You have no recollection of getting yourself here on your own, only the faint fuzzy memory of being carried and the sharp, fragrant scent of eucalyptus.
With that, perhaps you should not be surprised at the knock on your door at seven-thirty on dot, where you find Tim waiting.
Your body hurts worse today than it did yesterday and the extra strength Tylenol you took has not yet kicked in. Mostly, you’re still tired and achy, eyelids feeling heavier than usual, your clothes oddly restrictive with your slacks stretched a little uncomfortably over the gauze on your knee and thigh, then your forearm as well, as you knew wearing anything other than a long-sleeve would raise questions you are not mentally prepared to answer.
Suffice to say, you are not in a particularly good mood.
Which is why —
“What are you doing here.”
Tim looks up from his phone. He’s… in a suit? Charcoal grey, with a burgundy red button-up underneath. His dark hair has been tamed for the most part, parts of it gelled back, with some hanging over his forehead as usual.
It’s a version of him you aren’t that acquainted with but he still looks… heartbreakingly gorgeous.
“I’m giving you a ride to school,” he says, then offers you a thermos and lunch bag. “And breakfast.”
“I don’t need a ride,” you say, instead of acknowledging that. “I told you yesterday, Tim. What are you even doing up this early?”
“Board meeting,” he responds. “So, I’m already passing by the school on my way to the tower.”
“I can get to school just fine on my own.”
“Can I come in?”
Wordlessly, you step aside.
He steps in and sets the thermos and lunch bag aside, but doesn’t take off the shiny dress shoes. Seriously, you think you can see your reflection in the shine. God, he looks really good. This sucks.
“I was thinking about it for a while,” he says, gazing steadily at you.
Since you quite literally already have your shoes on and you keep the area in which shoes are allowed on relatively small, he’s only a foot away from you, allowing you to glimpse a faint scar under his jaw that one could not see unless they were this close, long, dark lashes that frame blue eyes, irises flecked with silver, an emotion you don’t think you’ve seen on him until now, one that makes your heart stutter in your chest and warmth flood your face. And… wait….
“I wanted to leave it alone,” he continues, distracting you.
Your eyebrows furrow at his words. Leave what alone?
“Because I wasn’t sure,” he goes on. “And if I wasn’t sure, then I wasn’t going to say anything but… I think it’s worth it to try.”
“You’re being vague, Tim,” you say, a little annoyed at the fact. “What are you talking about?”
“You,” he responds. “And what you think of me.”
Something about that makes your insides freeze. The sudden bout of nerves confuses you but it’s not a moment to think about why that may be.
“Meaning?”
“You think you’re burdening me, with everything that happened last night.”
One part of you relaxes, while the other just stiffens further.
“I thought,” he pauses, something in your chest crumpling at the uncertainty on his face, an emotion you’ve never seen, at least not directed at you. It hurts more than you thought it would. “I thought we were friends.”
“We are friends,” you say immediately. “We are.”
“Okay,” he says, looking steadier now. “So, then, why won’t you let me take care of you?”
“I can take care of myself,” you respond reflexively.
“I know that. But just because you can doesn’t mean that you have to do it alone. I… Look, I’m not trying to coddle you. It’s just that you seemed averse to anything that had me worrying about you, about me taking care of you when you had just been through something traumatic. You say we’re friends and friends take care of each other, don’t they? So, why won’t you let me?”
Oh. Oh.
“I know what things are like with your family,” he adds, voice gentler. “And I know you must’ve had to prove to them that you could handle living here, that you could take care of yourself. That you’re independent. But that doesn’t mean… it doesn’t mean that you have to do it on your own all the time, not if I’m here, too.”
You feel overexposed, like a bad sunburn, like all your layers have just been peeled away and now the real you, still hurt, still tired, still bleeding from last night, from the years of fielding your parents’ repeated urges to move back home, you are exposed. So terribly seen.
And you can’t quite acknowledge it, that he is right and you know it, too, you know that’s why things were so weird for you, because up until now, you were chronically lonely, on your own so you had to pick up the slack because you knew no one else was there to do it.
(But he’s here. But Tim is here and he wants to do it. Why?
You say we’re friends and friends take care of each other, don’t they? So, why won’t you let me?
Maybe it is that easy. Maybe it is that simple. But it’s still so hard to swallow.)
Tim gazes at you intently, like you are the only thing he is seeing in this moment and he is, in a way, and you struggle with it, pulling your eyes from his.
Only to catch the familiar sight of makeup, concealer caked at his forehead, partially hidden under his hair, but easy to pick out for you, just because, well, it’s not that great of a makeup job, and you’re close enough to see it.
You know exactly what he must have to hide.
You move of their own accord, raising your hands to his face and his eyes widen as you cup his cheeks, tugging him down a little.
He utters your name, an unknown emotion in his voice that makes your heart leapfrog to your throat and your skin prickle with heat but that’s not your purpose right now.
His hands fall to your wrists, grasping them loosely, fingers warm, the heat of them palpable even through the material of your button-up. He doesn’t make a move to pull your hands away. Just holds steady there.
“You’re right,” you whisper, the words choking in your throat. “But what about you?”
Your left hand slips from his cheek, his own falling away from your wrist; soft strands of hair brush the back of your fingers as you push it away, then press to the bruise hidden by makeup.
Flinching, he grabs your hand, pulling it away and saying your name. “It’s not about me right now.”
“I know,” you say quietly. “But it doesn’t make it any less true. I worry about you, too, Tim. But you never… there’s always an excuse.”
“It’s not an excuse,” he murmurs. “It’s the truth.”
“Don’t lie to me. Please.”
“I’m fine. I’m okay. Don’t —” he stops.
“Don’t worry about it?” Your hands fall away from him.
He shakes his head minutely and steps closer to you, until you can smell his cologne, dizzying to your senses.
“I’m a hypocrite, too,” he admits, his hands reaching up to cup your cheeks, thumb stroking gently over the sensitive skin underneath your eye. “But you have to trust me on this.”
The worst part is… you think you do.
You close your eyes, exhausted, a familiar wet sting surging up your nose.
“Tim…”
“It’s a two-way street, though. That’s how this works. Even I know that and I’m willing to accept it. I just… We can scale back, if you want, if you don’t want to do that. That’s fine. Just tell me.”
You could still be friends. Just not as close. Not close enough to worry about him, not close enough for him to worry about you. Just friends who hang out occasionally to watch movies and TV shows.
Of course. Of course. You couldn’t have one thing without the other. You knew that. You just didn’t think you would be forced to make a decision so soon. You thought… You don’t know. Stupidly, that you could avoid it.
It’s selfish, you know. But… it’s hard to give up control. It’s hard to admit you do want someone to help you sometimes. Even harder to admit that it’s Tim you want to do that.
(That it’s just him you want.
Just him.
But that is something for another time.)
You lean forward. He lets you go and your forehead meets his chest, his arms sliding around you. He’s warm, cologne heady to your senses.
“I’m sorry, Timmy.”
“You don’t have anything to apologize for.”
“Yes, I do. You’re right. I know that. I’m just…”
“It’s hard,” he murmurs. “I know.”
You don’t say anything, just shift closer to him, shameless now, but you don’t care. He holds you tighter in response, setting his chin gently on your head, and you have to pretend that everything in you isn’t turning into a puddle of goo at being held like this. Mostly because, you can’t remember the last time someone held you like this.
His hand is a warm brand between your shoulder blades. “If you want to bike to school, I won’t stop you. But the offer is still on the table. And the food is still for you.”
“I’ll go with you,” you mumble, voice muffled by the material of his suit.
He hears you nonetheless, relaxing at your words.
“Probably suck to do it, anyway,” you sigh. “With my knee and stuff. I was just being dumb.”
Tim shrugs slightly. “I’ve done stupider in the name of independence. Don’t sweat it.”
You would love to stay here for a little while longer. Forever, actually, but real life doesn’t allow for those kinds of indulgences, so you pull away reluctantly.
“We should go,” he says, raising his wrist; the expensive watch there winks at you, glinting under the light.
You nod and he picks up the thermos and lunch bag while you gather your own belongings. Soon enough, you are in the plush leather of his passenger seat, sipping at the thermos, the coffee there exactly as you like it. Your breakfast is a decent helping of sliced fruit. It’s a real privilege, especially because you know he shops his produce organically. Your breakfast, on most days, is usually a Pop-Tart. Sometimes a small yogurt shake if you’re feeling indulgent.
Everything is still a little… loaded between you, so the car ride is quiet save for the radio, the news host talking about recent activity from the Titans. You run into some traffic halfway there, and warmed from the coffee and hunger thoroughly satiated, you rest your eyes for the most of it, until he’s pulling around the back, where the employee parking is and where there won’t be too many prying eyes.
“Thanks for the ride.”
“I’ll see you after school? At four?”
“Mmhm. Have, uh, fun with your fellow capitalists.”
At the tease, at a little bit of familiarity creeping in once more, he grins at you and you grin back.
“Have fun with your middle schoolers.”
“Thank you. I will.” A two-fingered salute and you slip out, taking your things with you.
You’re still achy and tired and your knee is bothering you but… it’s not all bad.
No, not all bad.
Your day is long but the universe looks out for you. The kids cooperate with you and Ms. C for the most part, probably because they have their field trip coming up next week to the Metropolis Zoo (Gotham’s is closed down — something about Poison Ivy).
But soon enough, school is letting out for the weekend and Ms. C, as usual, disappears as quickly as she can. Weekends are sacred time, she’d once sagely told you. Weekends keep you sane.
You believe it.
You have to wait, however, since…
“I mean… I could take the subway.”
On the other end of the line, Tim huffs softly, the noise faintly echo-y, signaling he’s in his car connected to the Bluetooth, rather than speaking directly into his phone. “Wouldn’t recommend.”
“Why is that?” you ask, seated at the stairs leading up to the school. Save for the other staff still hanging around in the office, the school is empty of students.
Above you, heavy grey clouds hide away the sun. The sun doesn't set until eight in the evening these days — and will continue to set later and later as you grow closer to summer — but with these clouds, everything is darker, as if the sun has set, despite it only being a quarter until five.
Lightning forks through the sky ahead of you. A second later, a fearsome rumble of thunder. Rain follows quickly with furious intensity. Not a sprinkle or a drizzle, but a downpour.
“Oh, shit.”
You stand, going up a few steps to shield yourself completely.
“Severe weather warning,” Tim tells you, a shade too smug. “But not for just rain and thunder —”
“Hail?”
It comes down quickly, plinking on the metal railings for the stairs, pounding against concrete. You are protected for the most part, but it is loud.
On the other end, he laughs. “Still want to walk to the station?”
Considering the aforementioned station is two blocks away, no, but he doesn’t need to be so smug about it.
You tell him as much. It was just a joke, okay! If you were presented with an option to take the subway or enjoy the comfort of Tim’s expensive car, you would obviously go with the latter.
A minute later, the very same car pulls up to the curb.
But there is a considerable amount of distance between you and the curb. Nothing crazy but enough that you think you would be very damp by the time you got to the car. Not to mention the hail, which shouldn’t grievously injure you but would surely be unpleasant.
“Aw, shit,” you mutter, gathering your things.
“I got it,” Tim says, then hangs up. Ahead of you, the driver’s door opens and he steps out, a big black umbrella opening above him. To your surprise, he’s still in his suit. You didn’t think he would be at Wayne Tower for so long.
He walks briskly to you and you notice the car’s LED headlights still on, catching the falling rain and the hail intermixed with it. It makes sense not to turn it off but…
You creep to the edge of your shade, feeling a few droplets of rain hit your face as he comes up, pausing two stairs down from you.
It’s silly, you think, for your heart to skip a beat at the sight of Tim holding a hand out for you, smiling faintly, his eyes warm. But you can’t help it or the butterflies that form in your belly.
“Very chivalrous,” you say. “To come up and fetch me yourself. But this is Gotham. Bit of a risk to leave the car running, don’t you think? What if someone stole it?”
Tim smirks and shrugs. “Guess we’d have to take the subway.”
You laugh. You laugh as you take his hand and he pulls you under the cover of the umbrella, throwing an arm around your shoulders to ensure you are covered, and you’re still giggling as you arrive at the passenger door, sliding in quickly.
Tim follows in the next moment, unable to avoid the rain and hail as he closes the umbrella and slides in, tossing it to the back. Droplets of rain dampen his hair and face and he wipes it away, smiling faintly as you quell your mirth.
“So,” you say breathlessly as he buckles up and pulls away from the curb. “I didn’t realize you were going to be at the office for so long. That’s not normal, is it?”
You can immediately tell it’s not the right thing to say. Or, rather, it reminds him of something he would rather forget, face pinching slightly before he relaxes.
The radio is drowned out by the thrum of rain, windshield wipers working overtime to clear your field of vision. With the clouds blotting out the sun and the abrupt darkness, most cars have their headlights and taillights on, red lights smudged by the rainwater gliding down the glass. New Jersey drivers aren’t that great, but Gotham ones are even worse. You count Tim as part of that group, though he… tries to tone it down for you (if only to not give you a heart attack with the shit he does sometimes).
His fingers drum against the steering wheel and he gazes intently at the red taillights of the car in front of you. “Hungry?”
You accept the deflection. Mostly out of guilt.
“Of course.”
“O’Shaughnessy’s?”
“I could go for a Paddy O’Melt and a Soder.”
“Soder?”
This is an old debate but you give into it easily, to inject some familiar bantering into the atmosphere.
“What’s wrong with Soder?”
“What’s right with Soder?” he shoots back. “Zesti is where it’s at.”
“Zesti sounds like some kind of a seasoning, not a soda.”
“Seasonings are good. Soder just sounds gross.”
“So-der, So-da. It’s very simple, Timothy.”
“Saying it in your teacher voice isn’t going to change my mind.”
You laugh and he does, too. Once you get closer to Rose Oaks, he pulls into the nearest O’Shaughnessy’s. A few minutes later, you have a hot bag of food on your lap and your sodas in the cup holders between you. He parks in the lot, away from the other cars, and shuts off the windshield wipers for the moment, letting rain streak the glass. The hail has stopped by now.
You split up the food. Two double Paddy O’Melts with fries, and a Zesti Cola for him and Soder Cola for you.
It’s quiet for a little while as you two eat, burning your tongues on hot fries and equally hot burgers, then soothing it away with cold Cola.
You’re still working on your fries when he speaks.
“I don’t go into the office very often,” he says, agreeing with your earlier observation. He crumples up the wrapper for his burger, throwing it back into the bag, then cleans his hands with a napkin.
You sip your soda and don’t say anything yet. You can tell he isn’t done.
A pensive look forms on his face as he sits back, looking out the rain-blurred windshield. Thunder rumbles loudly, sending vibrations through the ground that you can feel.
He sighs, rubbing his forehead. “Lucius asked me in for some stuff. And since I was there already, he tried to keep me in as long as he could. He knows I prefer telework but being in-office helps with morale.”
You jolt slightly at the casual mention of Wayne Enterprises’ CEO, Lucius Fox. You should be used to it, but you’re really not. A lot of the times, it is hard to compartmentalize the fact that Tim Drake is one of Gotham’s most eligible bachelors, someone that a lot of people are dying to be with and talk to; he is the son of Bruce Wayne, the most notorious man in this city.
But to you, he’s just Tim.
Tim who argues with you about the merits between a Zesti and a Soder, who admits to liking sci-fi movies but has a weak spot for 2000s dramatic comedies like The Devil Wears Prada and pretty much anything with Anne Hathaway in it, who once accidentally overcooked a hot dog (the prepackaged ones you can only cook by boiling; this one still mystifies you) but can bang out a solid breakfast of french toast with homemade whipped cream, berries, and maple syrup, paired with eggs and bacon all cooked to perfection.
Tim, who likes tennis and is currently trying to sway you to join him for a few friendly matches, who used to be into photography but dropped it as obligations to the real world tugged him elsewhere. Tim, who, when you ask him about college or dream careers, seems, frankly, lost regarding all of that.
The word regarding his position at WE is that it’s simply a natural course of action. Some thought he might attempt to revive Drake Industries but most predicted he would go with WE. Maybe go to an Ivy League, get a business degree or a economics degree. This course of action was judged, naturally, because of course the son of a billionaire would get a free ride to Harvard or something, and major in something entirely predictable like business or economics.
Or he would bypass it completely and that’s what ended up happening. In a way. He doesn’t work there full-time. Only when they ask him on for things. And this route is inevitably judged, too, because of course the son of a billionaire gets a high-status position in his adoptive father’s company without the credentials or degrees for it.
You understand.
You do.
But what it looks like to you is that he doesn’t even want to be there.
“Maybe you should quit.”
Tim blinks, looking surprised at your suggestion.
You shrug. “I mean, it’s not, like, a full-time job or anything, right? You’re volunteering your time. You don’t have to.”
“I have to do something,” he says. Reflexively, you think. “I have an obligation… I mean, if I can help them, I should. It’s not too much to ask, if I have the capabilities, the time to do it.”
It feels like you’re talking about something else now but you don’t ask. There is a lot to him you don’t know or understand. Abrupt absences, reoccurring tardiness, odd aches and pains. And now this… his work at WE but also… also something else.
“Tim, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. You’re in a position where you can afford that.”
“It’s not that easy,” he sighs. “It’s… an obligation. Especially with how much time I spent with the company since I was seventeen.”
“So, haven’t you done enough?”
He looks at you, surprised and something else you can’t identify.
“I mean… I don’t know. I feel like you’ve done enough. But also, it doesn’t necessarily have to be about that. You can step back if you want. You can afford it. We talked about this, right? Take advantage of it. Maybe you can take up photography again or something. Maybe you can be my house-friend. Like a house husband but. You know.” You cough as he raises an eyebrow. “Friend.”
“So, basically, I clean and cook for you?”
You grin. “I wouldn’t say no to it.”
“I didn’t know you wanted me to move in so badly. You should’ve said something —”
“Oh, shut up. You know what I’m saying. But… seriously. Do what you want to do, Tim.”
“What I wanna do, huh?” he murmurs, looking out the windshield again. The rain is starting to slow.
“Whatever you want,” you agree softly. “I’ll support you. I’m sure your siblings will. The press will talk but that’s all it is — talk.”
Tim looks back at you, the set of his mouth as soft as his gaze as he looks at you, and your heart squeezes.
“Thank you.”
You shake your head. “Don’t have to thank me. We’re friends, right?”
He smiles. “Right.”
You look away, your heart feeling like it wants to climb out of you and go to him. If only.
You finish your food and work on sipping at your soda.
“So, I was wondering something,” you start, changing the subject.
“Yeah?”
“The sixth graders have a field trip next week Friday. We’re going to the zoo.”
He frowns. “Isn’t it closed still?”
You wave a hand. “In Metropolis.” Gotham City’s neighbor across the harbor. You aren’t looking forward to getting a class of sixth graders onto the ferry and into another city but at least you’ll have Ms. C with you.
“Ah.”
“Yeah. I’m probably gonna be gone for most of the day, though. I was wondering if you could feed the boys breakfast and dinner? I have a spare key somewhere at home. I’ll give it to you. If you can, I mean. If you have something else to do —”
“I don’t,” he says easily. “I can do it.”
“Just don’t do anything weird.”
“And weird entails —?”
“Don’t sneak cameras into my bedroom or steal my underwear.”
“Sounds easy enough to avoid.”
You grin. “Thanks, Timmy. ‘Preciate it.”
“‘Course.” He sends you a smile. “This is part of the whole friend thing, too, you know.”
You roll your eyes fondly. “I know. That’s why I asked.”
He seems privately pleased about that, nodding approvingly, then turning the windshield wipers back on and pulling into reverse.
You will try to do better. You’ll try to let yourself be taken care of. And in return, you know he’ll try to do that, too.
Maybe he’ll find something he can do. Maybe not. What’s important, you think, is that he’s happy.
As for your budding feelings, the way your heart skips a beat, the way you get flustered under his attention, the way it gets harder to suppress the yearning for his touch, for his arms around you — the memory of this morning, of being held, is burned into your mind, sure to haunt you and your dreams for weeks to come — you will set it aside.
You can acknowledge it, that your feelings have started to blur from platonic to something else, but that’s all.
More than anything, you want to keep Tim as a friend. Bringing in less-than-platonic feelings is sure to complicate that and you don’t want to lose him.
You aren’t sure you could handle that.
Not just because he helps soothe the loneliness, but because it’s him.
And that, you think, says more than anything else.
━ end notes
1. totally forgot to mention it, but i do subscribe to the belief that tim has to know how to cook some stuff. either learned from alfred or dana. i focused specifically on breakfast foods, because i feel like those are easiest compared to how dinner might get a little complicated (save for pasta; pasta is always easy)
2. one part of me also likes the thought that he's not that great at makeup/covering bruises with concealer but i also know it would be necessary, as in, something bruce (or more likely alfred) would teach it. we can just say for now, he slacked a little bit LOL
3. so we already know zesti but i was trying to look for another, to kind of echo the pepsi/coca-cola debate, and soder was listed on the dc wiki, so, that's what i used here. whether zesti is pepsi and soder is coca-cola or the other way around, i do not know, i'll leave that up to you guys (although i do think it would be funny for tim to be a zesti/pepsi fan and reader a soder/coca-cola fan; me, personally, pepsi is WAY too carbonated/strong, coke is where its at but i digress)
4. oh! also! o’shaughnessy’s! it's a call back to... i don't know the exact issue of robin (1993) but definitely the early ones. i also got tim's order from it as well and you can see the panel of it here. and also! the tennis thing i mentioned last chapter and here again, it is from robin (1993) too as well, i think (or maybe robin I, II, or III, not sure). it was super brief, like, i'm not entirely sure they ever mentioned him playing tennis again but you can pry tennis player!tim out of my cold dead hands
(i played tennis briefly in middle school and i wasn't good but boy was it so much fun and him playing tennis is just Perfect)
(also not having the issue numbers will be an issue if i reference direct panels again; i just save this stuff and never think about it again until i'm making in-universe references, so, sorry about that. it should be from his very early robin run, though)
5. i'm also an, admittedly, strong proponent of tim easing back out of the vigilante life as he gets older, just because it becomes the only thing he's doing, as well as stuff for WE. but whether that's what he wants is another question entirely, as in, does he even want to work at WE? it's easy, sure, but like... there is a difference between knowing how to do something and wanting to do it/be passionate about it. it's always kind of difficult to ascertain what to have him do, just because we know he isn't inclined for academia, at least not if he's also doing red robin stuff, but then, i don't think he's entirely happy living his life just doing corporate stuff. i admittedly didn't have enough space/room to explore this to my fullest extent so it may feel a little abrupt, as well as what happens in the following chapters because of this conversation, but that's what it is.
6. also! metropolis across the harbor! that is... that is admittedly something i lifted from the dceu movies, specifically, what was it? batman vs. superman? yeah. and LOOK i don't particularly like those movies or any... live-action stuff (i reallyyy prefer comics LOL or at least accuracy to the comics and portrayals of bruce are always so finicky to me because people like the version of him without kids but that's not really him!! anyway) however i do like the thought of gotham and metropolis being twin cities, so to speak. and YEAH not best for canon, especially if you think about no man's land but just. Let me have it. it's also for plot stuff. here. so. yeah.
reblogs are appreciated!
#tim drake x reader#red robin x reader#dc comics x reader#tim drake x y/n#tim drake x you#red robin x y/n#red robin x you#tim drake imagine#red robin imagine#dc comics imagine#batfam x you#batfam x reader#batfamily x reader
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I'll be summer sun for you forever
For Bio Dad! Bruce Wayne Month, Prompt: Meeting for the first time
ao3
@maribat-bdbwm
Ladybug is sitting on the roof of the WE building, swinging her legs over the ledge. Somewhere off in the distance she hears the sound of guns and she briefly wonders whether it’s one of the several criminals of Gotham or just Jason. There’s noise behind her and Marinette turns around to find her father.
“Ladybug.”
Marinette grins, “Batman.”
She can see the sigh he’s trying to hold back. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Ladybug. I wasn’t expecting to see you in Gotham.” His voice is so weird and gravelly she almost laughs. No wonder her siblings endlessly tease him about the Batman voice. She’d always thought the comms made it worse than it actually was.
She only hums, still grinning. “Really, I was sure I’d told you.”
Ladybug definitely did not tell him. Marinette on the other hand told him months ago that she’d come to Gotham during summer break.
He really does sigh this time. How surprising, she never thought he’d do that around heroes he barely knew. “No, you did not. There’s a rule about no metas.”
She snorts. What a hypocrite. “Have you not noticed that Signal’s a meta or are you just ignoring that?”
Marinette can’t actually tell but she’s pretty certain his eye is twitching. This is so much fun, she should have made the trip to Gotham earlier. But regardless that’s not why she decided to come out on a little night run. Before he can reply she says, “Besides, Batman and Robin were in Paris last month even after the Justice League promised not to set foot in Paris. I’m only returning the favour.”
She’d already chewed out her dad during their visit. He’d ignored her, insisting that it was necessary for him to check and once again trying to talk Marinette into moving back home. Not that he was any good at it, her father isn’t really capable of carrying such conversations. Plus, it wasn’t like Gotham was much safer.
Batman remains expressionless. “We weren’t spotted. Neither by civilians or the Parisian heroes.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” she replies coolly, “You weren’t spotted by any civilians who felt the need to announce it to the rest of the city.” Adrien had seen them and mentioned it the next day in school. Marinette had been ready to storm back to the bakery and start yelling at them again. Instead, she had taken a deep breath, thanked Tikki that Alya was absent, put on her best confused expression and faked interest.
Marinette gets why her siblings hate the cowl. It’s hard enough to figure out what her father is thinking without half his face hidden. “You and Chat Noir are teenagers. You can’t take care of the whole city on your own-”
Marinette snaps. She’d only wanted to mess with her dad for what he’d done not listen to him question her capability.
“Last I checked you’re the only adult in this city.”
“Nightwing-”
“Started out as a child vigilante in a crime ridden city. All Chat Noir and I do is take care of akumas and spend our free time trying to figure out Hawkmoth’s identity. You really do not need to worry.”
She doesn’t wait for his reply. She swings away to the next building, pulling out the horse miraculous to portal back to her room in the manor. She detransforms and falls face down onto her bed trying extremely hard to cry.
It’s quite a while later that there’s a knock on her door. “Come in,” she calls not bothering to get up. The door opens and closes and Dick says, “Hey Nettie.” She feels the bed dip as he sits next to her.
“Apparently B had a very interesting first meeting with Ladybug today.” He sounds nonchalant but Marinette knows better.
She lifts her head up and glares at him, “So?”
He shrugs, “Just thought you should know.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Dick sighs, “I went through the footage to see where exactly B messed up.”
She looks at him incredulously, “You needed footage for that? He almost definitely messed up the second he opened his mouth.”
Her brother chuckles, looking away from her, “That’s true. But I figured it’s better to know, if only to ensure Ladybug doesn’t yell at me the next time I see her.”
She frowns, confused with where he’s heading with this.
“Nettie, did you know that Nightwing and the first Robin being the same person is a conspiracy theory? One of Bernard’s in fact. It’s considered just that insane.” She inhales sharply, but Dick continues as if he doesn’t notice, “So, imagine my surprise when Ladybug threw that fact in B’s face, after all we both know she isn’t the kind to believe in baseless theories.”
Marinette squeezes her eyes shut. “Shit. Does B know?”
Dick is still speaking casually, “About the conspiracy theory or about you being Ladybug?”
The confirmation that her brother now knows her identity doesn’t help at all. “Both.”
“He’s too paranoid to not know about the conspiracy theory but he doesn’t know you’re Ladybug-” she sighs in relief “- he thinks you heard it from one of the other JL members.”
She gets up to sit beside him, looking at him in confusion. He finally meets her eyes when Marinette asks, “How?”
“I told him so. I was the only one who was there every single time you were at the Watch Tower.”
Her mouth opens in shock. He smiles softly at her, “The audio on the security tapes isn’t perfect even if he gets Babs or Uncle Clark to check, both of them would lie for you. Even if he checks himself, Babs can alter it.”
She throws her arms around him, hugging him tightly. Continuously whispering thank you. He laughs and ruffles her hair, “Don’t worry about it. I get it.”
Marinette laughs a bit at that. She doesn’t really miss when B and Dick argued all the time because of how overprotective their father could be. Before he slips out her room, he ruffles her hair more and grins as he says, “Be early to breakfast tomorrow. Alfred’s making chocolate chip pancakes.”
She smirks, “Don’t worry. I’ll be there first.”
There’s a laughing call of, “You’re on,” from the hallway and Marinette grins. Sometimes, she’s really thankful that she has siblings.
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heelllo, would you mind writing rosita x reader? where rosita is a total bitch towards the reader, one day it went to far and the reader was really hurt by rosita, reader starts to distance themselves to rosita. ( i don’t know what the ending will be but can you please make it very angst?) thank youuu
helllooo anon :D tysm for requesting !! hope you enjoy . this is definitely some angst and i am sorry in advance :) i wanna explain the death warning so bad but it’ll spoil so,,, this story went a whole other direction 😭
warnings: angst. death. no comfort whatsoever. just straight up angst.
a/n: clarifying that i absolutely love Rosita, she’s one of my absolute favorites. this is just a request i’m writing, it doesn’t reflect my feelings on her.
you knew you weren’t like the others. strong, stealthy, intelligent, you weren’t any of those things. you tried to make yourself believe you were, but you knew the truth. and so did Rosita.
she made sure to remind you every chance she got. spitting insults daily.
it got tiring, and you were nearing an edge that didn’t look far enough for you stop right before you fell. it took a toll on you, but you didn’t know what to do. you didn’t know what you did to make her hate you this bad, especially when you knew she was a good person. just not to you.
you wanted to be good at this; the whole apocalypse thing. but not everybody was made for it, and you were one of them.
you knew your struggles held your group back, it wasn’t a secret. and you didn’t have any doubts that other people thought it too, but never said it out loud just to not hurt your feelings.
“god, can’t you do anything fucking right?! all we had to do was get more food from this place, but you of course managed to find a way to fuck it up because your own fucking stupidity.” Rosita shouted at you, throwing the box of food in the back of the truck.
“we could’ve been out of this place ten minutes ago if you weren’t so fucking stupid and allowed yourself to get attacked by a walker! do you even know how to defend yourself without me having to save your life every damn time?!”
you stayed silent, knowing if you spoke, you would break and start crying. and that is not something you wanted to do in front of her, it would only make the situation worse than it already was. you felt the pressure building up in your throat, and the waterworks behind your eyes.
she scoffed when you didn’t answer, “whatever. just get in the fucking car so we can leave already, if you can even do that right.” she mumbled the last part under her breath, but it felt as if she said it out loud. you got in the car and looked out the window, preventing Rosita from seeing the tears welling in your eyes.
the drive back home was silent, like it always was when you and Rosita went on runs together. you weren’t sure why Rick always assigned you to go with her, knowing the way Rosita acted towards you. maybe he thought one day your “feud” would be resolved and everything would be normal. he couldn’t be anymore wrong.
Rosita pushed the stick to ‘P’ and got out of the car, lifting up the trunk. you followed her, grabbing one of the boxes of food. you both started to make your way to the pantry room where Olivia was so you could put away everything you got.
when you made it to the doorway, your foot got stuck on the small ledge, causing you to fall with the box in your hands. one of the glass bottles fell out, breaking and spilling everywhere. your heart dropped, and you didn’t dare to look up to face Rosita.
“Olivia- i’m so sorry.” you spoke, voice shaking like crazy. “i tripped on the ledge and-“
“Y/N, sweetie it’s okay.” Olivia spoke softly, and it comforted you almost immediately. “a lot of people trip on that ledge, including me.” she chuckled. you wanted to laugh along, but you looked up and saw the hard expression on Rosita’s face.
when you stood up and brushed off your jeans, Rosita gripped your arm and pulled you outside. “what the fuck is wrong with you, Y/N?!” she yelled. Olivia ran outside with you two, but realized she couldn’t do anything now to defend you.
“every fucking day you ruin something. either it’s a run, when you’re on guard or just doing the simplest fucking task like putting away food! you’re useless, you’re so fucking useless! why did Rick ever take you in his group? you bring nothing to offer, you’re not smart enough for this, you’re not strong enough, and you certainly are not made to live. everything would be so much fucking easier if everyone finally decides to stop saving your life all the time and just let the walkers eat you.”
there was no words you could think of that could describe what you felt right now. it wasn’t anything like you felt before. you felt numb, but still in pain. nothing could possibly hurt more than Rosita’s words.
you looked up with tear filled eyes, and noticed that others had heard what she said, including Rick, and practically your entire group. humiliation took over your body.
you couldn’t take it anymore, and turned away from everyone, running back to your own house. the one you lived alone in. “Y/N!” Rick shouted, but you didn’t even turn your head back. you slammed the door behind you, locking both locks and shutting your blinds.
a sob left your lips, and you fell into the corner of the room. you hugged your knees, unable to stop the crying now that you were alone. each sob burned your throat.
nothing could fix the words Rosita said to you, she had officially gone further than you thought she ever would, and that was your breaking point finally. her words sunk into you, every other word repeating inside your head.
useless. you were useless.
someone started to knock on your door, but you ignored it, continuing to cry out every last emotion you had left. they continued to knock for almost ten minutes before finally giving up. you watched their shadow walk away, and noticed it was Rosita.
for the rest of the day, you stayed inside, barely moving. it felt dramatic, but you knew it wasn’t. you couldn’t think of another way to go on about your day after being humiliated like that.
as the sun got lower and Alexandria fell quiet, you knew everyone was finally heading to bed. you got up from your spot and went upstairs into your bedroom.
you opened your bag up, throwing in everything you owned, which wasn’t much at all. you straightened up the entire house, even going as far as perfectly making the bed so it looked like no one even lived there.
when you were done, you zipped up your bag and left your house, heading towards the gate. you were leaving Alexandria because Rosita was right, you were useless, even you didn’t know why Rick decided to take you in.
you grabbed onto the gate and pulled yourself up until you managed to jump over it. you landed on your feet, and started to make your way down the abandoned road. it was so dark out, but you continued your way.
you headed into the forest, going in no particular direction. you weren’t sure how far you would go, or how far you would even make it. it wasn’t your priority though, you just wanted to escape and get away from everything.
after a while, you stopped walking and leaned against a tree. with how late it was, you were already feeling yourself grow tired. you sighed, hitting your head back against the wood.
you looked up at the sky, watching the small stars twinkle individually. they were so pretty, you pouted at the fact that you never admired their beauty like this until now.
tears unexpectedly filled your eyes again and you looked down to wipe them; even though there was no one there to hide them from. everything had started to flood back, and Rosita’s voice rang in your ears. so much for five minutes of peace.
you dropped your head into your knees, sobbing quietly. you wished this could’ve just been a nightmare that’s been going on for too long, and soon you’ll wake up in your own bed, walkers nonexistent, and you would’ve never met Rosita.
a particularly loud sob left your lips, and they didn’t stop coming out after that. you were letting everything out, there was nothing else to do. you couldn’t hear anything but your sobs.
as your cries continued, teeth plunged into your shoulder. your eyes widened as a pained scream escaped your lips, echoing throughout the forest. you pushed the walker off of you to the best of your ability and stood up, pulling your knife out. you drove it into its head, pushing it to the ground once it was dead.
you touched your shoulder, whimpering at the pain and terrified by the amount of blood on your hands. you couldn’t process it; you just got bit.
you fell to the ground, breathing heavily. suddenly, footsteps starting to run towards you, and you assumed it was another walker coming to finish the job.
“Y/N?!” a voice yelled. it was Rosita.
you sighed, closing your eyes tightly, begging now for this nightmare to be over. “oh my god.” Rosita mumbled.
“what the fuck are you doing here?” you asked. “i was following you to talk, but i lost you. until i heard you scream.”
you scoffed, “there’s nothing to talk about. go home.” Rosita lifted you up, helping you sit against the tree, and you hissed at the way your back hit the wood.
you already felt yourself become weaker by the second, staring at her with hooded eyes. Rosita didn’t look mad or frustrated, she looked worried. this was the first time she’s ever given you a look like that.
“go home, Rosita.” you said again. “you’re- you’re bit. i can’t leave you here like this.” she said.
“this is what you wanted.” you retorted. “you would’ve had no problem leaving me here if the situation was different.”
“Y/N, i came to apologize.” she said to you. “i don’t need an apology, Rosita. because you’re not going to mean a single word you say, and don’t try to make it seem like you will. and either way, it’s too late. just go home.”
“i’m not letting you die alone.” she argued.
your body went limp against the tree, the effect from the bite happening sooner than you thought. “i’m so sorry, Y/N.” she whispered, and you noticed tears lining around her eyes.
“i want you to listen to me, Rosita.” you spoke, voice becoming weaker as well. “just this one time.”
“not everyone was made to live a life like this.” you told her. “it’s something you don’t have to think much about to realize.”
she nodded, sucking in a deep breath to hold in her tears. “i know. and i’m so sorry for the way i treated you because of it. i’m so sorry.”
“sorry will never be enough for the words you’ve said to me.” you said quietly. “you can’t take those back.”
your eyes shut, but you never opened them again. “Y/N?” she asked, shaking your shoulder. “no- no, Y/N. wake up!” she yelled.
Rosita put her hand on your heart, there was no beat anymore. a shaky hand went over her mouth, but she only had a few more minutes to react. with her other hand, she reached for her knife.
she hesitated, but pushed the knife into your head with a cry from her lips. she took it out, immediately wiping your blood off.
with one more deep breath, she lifted your lifeless body and started to make her way back to Alexandria. she couldn’t leave you there.
“open the gate!” she yelled from outside, and a few moments later it opened. Rick and the others had known she ran out looking for you.
when it fully opened, Rick and Michonne were already standing there, waiting to see you again.
Michonne’s mouth dropped open as sobs now ripped through her body. Rick stared with wide, glossy eyes, not knowing how to process the sight in front of him.
Alexandria was quiet, the only sounds left being the cries that left Michonne’s lips. “she- she was bit.” Rosita said, words shaky.
it only made Michonne cry harder, and Rick took two stiff steps closer, taking you out of Rosita’s arms. he spotted the bite mark, shakily exhaling. he didn’t say anything to anyone, silently taking you to the empty field of grass next to the houses.
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A/N pt 2: i’m so sorry
#divider creds : cafekitsune#rosita twd#rosita espinosa#twd rosita#rosita espinosa x fem!reader#rosita espinosa x reader#the walking dead#the walking dead x reader#twd#twd x reader
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Not Tonight
Whumptober day 19! I twisted the words of the prompt a bit, but I chose the lyrics this time: “I’ll take one final step, all you have to do is make me.”
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When Villain arrived on the roof of the building, they didn’t expect to see Hero standing with their back to them. Their rival’s head was craned back so they could look at the stars. “Please, Villain. Don’t do this. Not tonight.”
Villain laughed heartily, “Not tonight? So you’ll let me blow up the building of innocent civilians without interruption if I wait until tomorrow? How heroic. What would Sidekick say?”
“Sidekick is gone.” Hero’s voice sounded broken. Their shoulders slumped forward, and their legs almost buckled under an unseen weight. “Go back downstairs. Please, just not tonight.”
“Are you injured?” Villain took slow steps closer to Hero. Their concern only grew as Hero continued to refuse to look at their rival. “Hero, look at me. Show me your injuries.”
This time, Hero laughed, “I’m fine, Villain. No injuries.” Hero’s eyes flicked down to glance at Villain, widening slightly as they realized how close Villain had come. They took a few deliberate steps away, winding up closer to the edge of the building. “It’s a nice night. A long night, but beautiful.”
A shiver ran down Villain’s spine. This was not normal. Hero usually bursts onto the scene, ready for a fight. Normally, their battle would have been over by now, the building below them either destroyed or saved. Villain jumped slightly as their phone buzzed in their pocket. The moment they broke eye contact, Hero went back to looking up at the stars. As they looked at the link Henchman sent, everything started to make sense.
Villain sighed, “I think I understand now. Fights with Supervillain never end well. They used their power on Sidekick, didn’t they? They killed them.”
“Did you know the nearest star is called Proxima Centauri? Besides the Sun, of course. Even then, it’s still more than 4 light-years away.” Hero stepped closer to the edge. They leaned casually against the hip-height wall, providing some tiny protection from the 12-story drop.
“It’s alright, Hero. You must be hurting. Tell the truth.”
“Supervillain didn’t kill Sidekick, I did. They gave me their blade since Supervillain had taken mine. They held me in their arms as I used that blade to stab them in the back.”
Taking a startled step closer, Villain scanned over Hero’s shaking form. Now, they could see the small splattering of blood on their sleeve. Hero’s body shook as their head slowly tilted down, looking away from the stars and daring Villain to say what they both knew. “So they used their power on you then. That’s why you didn’t want to fight me. A stray comment could cause destruction that would make even my stomach churn, and you would be helpless to stop it. The fight with Villain was around two hours ago, right? For the next two days, you have to do as you’re told.”
“Indeed.” Hero jumped up onto the narrow ledge. “It’s pointless to deny it, isn’t it? You told me to tell the truth. Two hours and around 15 minutes ago, I murdered Sidekick and let one of the most dangerous criminals in the world go free. I stood back and watched them go. Isn’t that funny? I can’t even beg anyone for help. Look at me. I couldn’t even hide my condition from you. What happens when someone decides to use my power? How will you force me to destroy this city?
“You know I would do it, right? If you told me to, I would burn the city I love to the ground in less than 5 minutes. It would be easy. As easy as walking off this building.” Hero lifted their foot so it hovered over the drop. “You could do that too, you know. All you have to do is say the words, and I’ll take one final step. Wouldn’t that be nice? Sidekick is already dead. Just a few words and there’s no one left to stop you.”
“Step back onto the roof.” Villain’s voice was cold as they gave the strict order. They couldn’t help but notice how despite following the command, Hero’s body still leaned toward the ledge. Their hand reached toward the horizon as tears rolled down their face. “Today is not the day you die, Hero. I can promise you that.”
“Why not?” Hero’s head flopped on their shoulders as if it were too heavy for them to keep holding up. “Kill me now. Save time and effort. It’s what villains like us do, right? We kill people.”
“Follow me. We’re going back downstairs.”
“No.” Hero yelled as their body turned and took a few shaky steps closer to Villain. “No. Just kill me. Don’t do this, Please. I can’t take any more. Don’t make me live with this nightmare. I don’t want to do it. Don’t make me kill them. I’m not a murderer. They’re not dead. They can’t be dead!”
Villain pulled Hero into their arms. “It’s alright, Hero. I know what that’s like. I can’t tell you what Supervillain has made me do under the influence of their power. You are safe. I’m not really here to bomb the building. I live here. This is what I’m going to do. I’m going to take you downstairs to my apartment. You can stay in my guest room as long as you need. Once I get you set up for a shower, I’m going to cook some dinner, and we can rest. Alright?”
“Why not just command me?” Hero pushed Villain off of them. “All you have to do is tell me to jump, and I’ll do it. Why not get me out of the way? Why ask permission to protect me?”
“We can talk about it later. For now, do you like red beans and rice?”
#whumptober 2023#no.19#lyric#“I’ll take one final step#all you have to do is make me.”#oc#whump fic#suicidal ideation tw#mind control#hero#villain#supervillain#villain x hero#protective villain#sidekick
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KISS ME [e. williams]
pairing ellie x fem!reader
summary after finally growing the courage to make a move on ellie after years of crushing on her, things go south when someone makes a comment
warnings seth. that's it. that's the warning.
wc 2.3k
note AHHH this was so fun to write omg (also this is self indulgent bc i REALLY wanted to see el pound seth’s face in when he called dina a dyke)
the night was still young, and yet you were exhausted. hours of standing had finally begun to catch up with you, your feet sore and slightly blistered from the soles of your leather boots.
“oh come on! live a little! you’ve been moping here all night. come dance with me,” dina nagged, nudging your side with an elbow. she motioned toward the crowd of people in the middle of the room with a trying smile.
biting the inside of your cheek, you frowned, not wanting to leave the little nook by the counter. “i already danced.”
the black-haired woman scoffed. “you danced for like one song and then came over here with a sour expression.” she paused before adding, “don’t tell me it’s something to do with ellie.”
“it’s not,” you muttered, eyes glued to the hardwood floor in an attempt to make her drop the topic. “i’m just tired.”
“uh-huh,” dina mused with a teasing smirk, not buying your words one bit. she nestled into your side, leaning over to whisper, “tell me about it.”
your gaze slid to hers. “what?”
“tell me about it,” she repeated, straightening against the bar’s ledge. “tell me what’s on your mind. and don’t give me any bullshit.”
sighing, you turned around, bracing your forearms on the sleek wood. “she’s just…i don’t know. i feel like she’s avoiding me.”
dina didn’t have to ask who you were referring to. she copied your position, her left arm pressed against yours, as she said, “what makes you think that?”
“well, i went over to her house yesterday to invite her to tonight’s party and she wouldn’t answer my knocks. her muddied boots were by the door, though, so i know she was in there,” you said, rubbing your temple with a hand. “i don’t even know if she’s going to show. some part of me hopes that she does, even though there’s a really slim chance of that happening.”
looking over her shoulder, dina scanned the room. she pushed you a little when she spotted what she was looking for. “i wouldn’t be so confident on the idea of her not showing.”
“why?” you asked, brows furrowed as you tried to spot what she was looking at. your throat ran dry when your eyes landed on a familiar-looking auburn-haired woman. “oh.”
a plethora of emotions flashed across your mind, from confusion to anger to excitement. the way ellie was just chatting up jesse and another girl you couldn't identify was baffling. she never came to these things, and yet there she was, nursing a drink and putting on a smile.
“i don’t know whether i’m supposed to feel relieved or angry right now,” you admitted to dina, eyes still glued to ellie. “to be honest, i’m more angry, i think.”
“okay, well, don’t go and blow up on her, that’ll just make the whole ‘avoiding thing’ worse,” dina said as she stepped in front of you, cutting off your gaze.
you shifted your weight from one foot to the other. “then what do you propose i do? act like i didn’t show up at her place less than 24 hours ago?” your question came with a raised brow.
huffing a strained laugh, dina shook her head. “how about i go over there? see if i can send her your way or get her alone?”
“do whatever you want, i don’t care.” you waved her off, turning back around in hopes of getting some alone time again. it seemed to work because dina walked off, her black ponytail swishing behind her.
ellie hadn’t taken her eyes off of you all night. whether she was obvious about it or not, she didn’t care. she only worried about finding the right time to approach you and apologize for her silence the other day. and, yet, no openings seemed to present themselves. she was stuck with a glass in her hand and the overwhelming urge to rip her ears off.
jesse she didn’t mind. she could talk to him all day if she wanted to, but the girl on her right…she just wouldn’t. shut. up. it didn’t help that jesse kept entertaining the girl’s conversations either.
“…and then i shot the damn thing straight through the forehead,” the girl said, finishing off her story about how many infected she had taken out at one time. ellie barely heard her, too busy staring at the girl who had just waved off dina.
“dang,” jesse mused, nodding his head as well. he didn’t notice his ex until she was standing right in front of them.
dina wore a charming smile as a more upbeat song started playing over the speakers. “hey,” she started, “i didn’t think you guys would show.”
jesse just offered a low hum.
“well, we’re here aren't we?” ellie said, forcing a smile at the black-haired woman in front of her.
huffing out a laugh, dina took the drink from her hands, downing the liquid in one gulp. she shoved the glass at jesse. “come with me to get another drink.”
jesse shot ellie a look that screamed either a ‘help’ or a ‘what the fuck do i do?’ the woman only dipped her chin at him with a more genuine smile. it faltered, though, when she realized who she was left with.
the girl cleared her throat before asking, “do you wanna go dance?” and setting her hand on a tattooed arm.
“actually-”
too busy trying to decide on how to let the girl down easy, ellie didn’t notice your approaching figure.
“can i talk to you?”
it was a fight to get the question out, and your hands had fisted themselves by your side as you watched ellie tense up, her eyes sliding to meet yours.
she cleared her throat, turned back to the girl you assumed she was talking to previously, and peeled the fingers clinging to her shirt. “actually, i already have a dance partner. sorry.”
with that, she reached for you, grabbing your wrist and pulling you toward the crowd of couples.
your heart thundered in your ribs, chest rising and falling as your crush led you on, only stopping after she had dragged you to an open spot. she turned, grabbing your hands to force them around her neck, her own fingers finding purchase on your hips.
as you stepped closer, trying not to look so awkward or out of place, you pulled her body flush against yours. “what are you doing?” you breathed.
“dancing,” she answered as if it was obvious. and you suppose it was, except that this wasn’t just dancing. it felt like there was more intent behind her simple gesture. “what are you doing?”
your eyes flickered over her freckled face. “i’m trying to figure out why you’re even here. you hate parties. and dancing.”
ellie’s nostrils flared as she said, “you said you wanted to talk to me. so, talk to me.”
“i’m trying to,” you mumbled, sliding your gaze from her to the rest of the room. it was then that you noticed the unusual amount of eyes on you both. choosing to ignore it, and instead focus on something else, you said, “why are you avoiding me?”
the girl in your arms stiffened. “i’m not…avoiding you.”
“bullshit,” you snapped, looking at her with a scowl. “why didn’t you answer me yesterday? i came to your house. i know you know that i was there.”
“because…” ellie sighed before continuing. “i just needed time…to myself.” the look on your face sent her searching for more words, for a better explanation. “i wanted to sort out something.”
you scoffed. “you were at the shooting range with dina and jesse not even two hours before. don’t fucking lie to me, ellie. stop treating me like i’m stupid.”
“i’m not-”
“yes. you are,” you stated, suddenly becoming hyper-aware of the fact that this conversation was happening in the middle of a dance hall. you hoped your voice wasn’t raised as you said, “just tell me what i did. if i made you upset then i can apologize and try to fix it!”
ellie’s fingers squeezed the flesh of your hips. “you didn’t…you didn’t do anything. i’m just getting in my own head about something-”
“then, for crying out loud, just tell me what it is,” you tried, gaze involuntarily jumping to her mouth. shoving away the sudden idea of kissing her, you blinked yourself back to stable thoughts.
“i’d rather show you,” ellie said, her green eyes mimicking your own; pupils dilated and transfixed gaze flicking to every corner of your face.
you swallowed thickly. “show me?”
she nodded, her stare lingering on the swell of your mouth. you figured that whatever she was about to do would be way out of her comfort zone.
kiss me, you found yourself thinking. kiss me kiss me kiss me.
her breath mingled with yours before she leaned in, her eyes closing as her lips locked with yours. lids fluttering shut, you sighed into her mouth, arms tightening around her neck as you kissed her back feverishly, mind focused on only one thing. ellie ellie ellie.
the music had begun to fade when you pulled away just enough to catch your breath. inhaling deeply, you couldn’t help the smile that formed, suddenly overjoyed at the realization of what had just happened.
ellie was grinning too, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she searched your reactions.
licking your lips, you slid your hands from behind her nape to the sides of her face, thumbs brushing over her cheeks as you pulled her back in for another kiss, this time a little rougher.
too caught up in the taste of liquor on ellie’s tongue, you didn’t notice when the room quieted, making the male voice that shouted “hey!” all the much louder.
the interruption startled you into tenseness, immediately compelling you and ellie to pull apart from one another, though one of her hands moved to the curve of your back. both of your smiles had dropped when you noticed who had spoken up.
the older man, who you recognized as seth, one of the workers at the diner in town, took a few steps in your direction, the creases on his forehead deepening with his scowl. “this is a family event!”
“sorry,” you muttered with a frown, sliding your palm from ellie’s shoulder down to the hand on your back, interlocking your fingers as you started toward the bar, tugging her with you. “jesus fucking christ,” you added with annoyance, not looking at the girl you walked with.
“and remember next time that there’s kids around!” seth said to your backs, irritating you even further.
looking over your shoulder, you shot him a glare. “yeah, like you’re setting such a great example.”
you heard him scoff before saying, “oh great. just what this town needs, another loud-mouthed dyke.”
the term hung in the air as you came to a sudden stop, widened eyes jumping to ellie’s as your stomach dropped and your throat closed up. you felt her squeeze your hand before her fingers slipped from yours. she whirled on seth before you had the chance to gather your words and stick up for yourself.
“what the fuck did you just say?!” her voice projecting as she pointed at the older man, her face twisted into something scary. she continued to zero in on a glaring seth, who looked anything but remorseful.
“you heard what i said,” he sneered with disgust, eyes still glued to your distraught and stilled figure behind a quickly approaching ellie. “we don’t need another-”
the whole room sucked in a breath as seth was punched across the face, the people closest to them rushing to pull the two apart from each other in a wave of shouts. luckily, maria and tommy were on the scene in a matter of seconds, the latter shouting and shoving a reaching seth toward the front entrance.
jesse—practically appearing out of thin air—was already grabbing ellie’s shoulders and trying to get her to drop the whole damn thing. his attempts were pitiful.
“hey, are you alright?” dina asked over the roaring of yells, nearing your awkwardly standing person.
mouth pressed into a tight line, you nodded, barely even acknowledging her presence. your focus was entirely on ellie. some part of you felt good about her having punched that homophobic piece of shit square in the nose, but another worried about repercussions.
dina didn’t bother to press an answer out of you, instead opting to watch her ex force ellie back a few steps. both of them wore frowns as they turned to walk away, ellie’s brows knitted together in anger. her expression changed, though, when she spotted you next to dina, her rage swapped for worry.
she opened her mouth as she got closer, and you didn’t give her a chance to ask about your well-being. “i’m fine, el. just a little uncomfortable and relieved that seth didn’t get the chance to hit back.”
ellie’s shoulders visibly sagged a little before she took a few more steps and closed the distance between you both, pulling you into a tight hug that caught you off guard. from in her arms you watched dina shoot you a wink before walking away with jesse.
“i’m, uh, i’m sorry you had to see that-” she started.
you held her a little closer, hoping to get some sort of chance to properly talk to her about everything elsewhere. “don’t apologize for anything. i…let’s just go. i think that dick just ruined the whole night.”
leaning back slightly, ellie narrowed her eyes at you. “he didn’t debunk our kiss from like a ten to a two, right?”
“a ten?” you couldn’t help but laugh, pulling back from her as she grabbed your hand. “you think our kiss was the equivalent of a ten? ellie…”
“and what would you rate it?” she scoffed, starting toward the front entrance with you by her side. “because, if i remember correctly, you were the one who pulled me in for a second kiss.”
you shoved her with a shoulder as you walked. “don’t make me regret it.”
#ellie williams#ellie williams x reader#ellie x reader#tlou x reader#tlou#tlou2#tlou ellie#tlou imagines#ellie williams tlou#ellie tlou#ellie williams x female reader#the last of us x reader#the last of us#the last of us part two#the last of us part 2#the last of us part ii#wlw#sapphic#the last of us ellie#the last of us oneshot
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You’re on
Temari x f!reader
Summary: friendly competition turns in to fluff.
She glared at me, eyes unblinking as her chopsticks scrape the bottom of her bowl of rice. I refuse to drop her gaze, quickly shoveling one last piece of meat and some rice in to my mouth as my eyebrows knit together. Temari only breaks our connection to lift the bowl unceremoniously to her face, allowing me to do the same.
“Done!” We shout in perfect unison as the bowls slam down against the table. Shikamaru groans, face against the table in boredom as Choji laughs,” it’s another tie. You guys are going to be at this all night.”
“My bowl hit the table first, you seen it… right Shikamaru?” Temari stammers out, slapping her hands against the table as she stands.
“Why are you asking me? I’m not even watching… such a drag.” Shikamaru huffs out, sliding his chair in place with his foot and quickly making his way to the exit of the barbecue restaurant.
“Choji is right, it was another perfect tie. Can we settle this with something other than food? This bill is starting to look like a house payment, and I can think of several places I’d rather be.” Ino mumbles out, scanning the receipt the waitress slipped at the end of the table. Mouth still full, I grab it to see the damage. I choke at the final price,” yeah. You’re right, I’ll grab the bill.”
“Please. It was my challenge so I’m paying.” Temari quips back, snatching it from my hands before her eyes bulge upon seeing the price.
“Temari, it’s fine. Just let me pay it since it was my stupid idea.” I answer, quickly pulling out cash from my side pouch. She rolls her eyes in reply, sliding the receipt back over before standing,” fine. But I choose the next challenge.”
“You’re only here for another night, why don’t you just relax and enjoy the hot springs or something?” Ino offers, flicking her ponytail over her shoulder while opening the door.
“Why don’t you join us Ino?” I pipe up, catching up to them on the street with Choji in tow.
“Honestly? No thanks. I don’t want to think of how you two will make it in to a challenge.” Ino chuckles out, already breaking from the group in front of the flower store before continuing,” besides, we have a wedding order we have to prepare for and looks like the shipment just came in.”
I look at the remaining two behind me after Ino quickly runs off in to the shop and locks the door,” Choji?”
“I wouldn’t be much company unless you care to talk across a wall the whole time we’re there. I’ll go see where Shikamaru is hiding.” Choji dryly excuses himself as he’s already walking away. As my eyes meet Temari’s, she quickly looks to the ground and takes a second to regain her cocky composure,” well don’t just stand there. Are you waiting for me to ask if we should race there or something?”
“No, maybe we should just enjoy it. I have a mission tomorrow anyway, and you have a long trek back to the sand.” I shyly huff out, scratching at the back of my head and awkwardly adjusting my headband. She nods stiffly, robotically shuffling towards the springs. The short walk was silent, casually stealing glances and looking for a sign of competition. After checking in and getting in to towels, I let the evening air welcome me as the door slides open to the outside. Heavy steam floats lazily over the springs as the lights illuminate from underneath. The sun tinges orange as the night time hum of crickets settles in to replace bird song. I breathe deep, closing my eyes and tilting my head to take in the serenity that’s quickly interrupted.
“It’s peaceful.” Temari whispers sidling your beside me, motioning with her head to reveal the springs were empty except us. I nod back, sitting against the rock ledge to dip my legs in the hot water,” yeah. I guess that’s rare when the two of us are together. She giggles back and joins me on the ledge,” I guess so. But I enjoy us together- the competition part… friendly rivalry and all.”
Temari clears her throat as her face turns red before biting her lip. I could’ve mistook her blush for the rising heat of the springs, but we weren’t even fully in.
“Yeah, I enjoy us together too… I enjoy having a reasonable competitor I mean.” I stammer out, adjusting my hand and accidentally bumping hers. We awkwardly laugh together as our hands fly away at the touch,”s-sorry! I’m just- tired?”
She smiles, dropping her hand back between us and leaning towards me,” I’m not even close to tired. Guess that means I might be more of a challenge than you think.”
I instinctively lean closer towards her, replacing my own hand on top of hers,” it’s easier when I let you win all the time. I just enjoy the look of happiness when you win.”
She sucks in her breath, gasping slightly,” y-yeah right. You’re just trying to catch me off guard is all. But it won’t work on me.”
Temaris hand quickly slides from beneath mine, inching closer towards my waist line as her eyes narrow. It was my turn to blush as her finger darts up to trace the hem of my towel as she continues,” or maybe you do have an infatuation with me like you claim…”
I quickly grip her hand with both of mine to stop her motion, setting both our hands in my lap as my heads drops,” listen. I like you… a lot. But if you’re just going to use that as an advantage I can’t lie when I say it would honestly break my heart, Temari. That’s why I hide it, I like how we are.”
Tamari’s voice catches in her throat as her body stills,” I’m not one to play on someone’s emotions unless it was for the good of my village or my allies. I seen what it does first hand with Gaara.”
“So then, what are we even doing right now, Temari?” I utter out, squeezing her hand slightly.
She takes several moments of silence before replying,” enjoying a peaceful moment… together.”
Temari drops her head softly on my shoulder, sighing deeply before a soft chuckle vibrates against me,” I have to admit, you hide your emotions very well, Y/N. I thought you truly hated me and you were out to prove you were better than me.”
I slowly rest my head on top of hers, catching soft notes of lavender and a sweet scent from fresh cactus,” I could never begin to hate you.”
A yawn quickly escapes me as my eyes droop and Temari is quick to follow,” Y/N, I like you. Maybe more than I should with how far apart we are.”
“Listen, distance is nothing. I can apply for more aid missions in the sand village or whatever. If that’s truly all you’re worried about… it’s nothing.” I sigh, snaking a hand around her back and up to stroke the top of her head, admiring how her hair looked down. She hums in content,” or you could just transfer to the sand village completely… or I could come here.”
“Gaara needs you, he is Kazekage and he needs your support. Let’s take our time, okay? We don’t have to rush things.” I reply, wondering if distance would truly be our demise. Temari’s hand curls around my waist as she nuzzles closer and giggles,” so you are smart sometimes.”
“Hey! That’s a low blow. Plus it’s not easy for me, you can’t exactly just leave the ANBU.” I remind her, half of me hoping she isn’t upset, and the other half excited I only had three missions left.
“You don’t have many missions left, what will you do afterwards?” She asks, yawning again.
“Probably what most do, become a sensei to the Genin so I still have income and pester you when I can.” I giggle back as her head tilts.
I watch her face contort from argumentative, to a heavenly sight. Her eye’s drooped peacefully, blonde hair clinging to her misted face and pink tinged cheeks. Lips plump, almost begging to be kissed. They beckoned harshly, and I couldn’t resist. Quickly leaning down to break the distance and feeling as her body stills before leaning fully in to mine, coincidentally sending us both in to the springs. A yelp sounds from Temari as we both sink below the surface. I break through, gasping for air and wiping the steaming water from my eyes and laughing. Temari is quick to follow, slowly fishing our completely soaked towels from below.
“Well… there goes our modesty on the way in.” She laughs, tossing them against the edge with a loud smacking noise. I huff a laugh and splash a handful of water against her,” please, you of all people worried about your modesty? You dragged me under on purpose!”
“How else am I supposed to watch you walk out in front of me naked without asking bluntly?” She quips back. I shrug my shoulders as she splashed me back,” all you have to do is ask.”
As I wipe the fresh water once again from my eyes, my lips are quickly met with hers once again. She lingers for several seconds, taking in all my senses as her hands trace random patterns against my back,” well next time I’ll make sure to just steal your clothes from your locker so I can see you in my clothes.”
“Is that a promise?” I fire back, pushing her down in to the water. We splash each other a few times, quickly interrupted by a dramatic groan,” I knew you two would make this in to a competition.”
“Ino!” We both scream in unison, quickly covering ourselves.
“Please, it’s a hot spring. No need for modesty you weirdos.” Ino scoffs, dropping her towel above our soaked ones without noticing. Temari groans, quickly followed by myself,” and now all three of us will have to walk back naked.”
Ino looks to her now drenched towel, quickly grimacing,” what did you two idiots even do?”
I circle my arm around Temari and pull her close, receiving an eyebrow raise from Ino,” it’s a long story.”
“I’ve got time.” She feigns a yawn of boredom, examining her nails and pointing her sight to a now beet red Temari. Her eyes widen in realization,” I knew it! Oh no! Did I interrupt a love confession?”
“No, no. That parts already over. You missed it.” I laugh while quickly being pulled in to Temari’s body, one hand behind me and the other clamping over my mouth,” alright you two! Enough gossip for tonight. Don’t go running your mouth to anyone just yet, Ino.”
Temari throws a threatening glance as Ino just shrugs,” who do you expect me to tell anyways, Sakura? No thanks. Shikamaru and Choji are deaf ears regardless unless it’s about Shogi or food. It’s our little secret… for now.”
“So a more pressing matter… who wants to walk naked inside to grab more towels?” I giggle out, breaking the tense air Temari is giving off. Ino rises, letting the shifting water lap against her before she turns to us,” you two worry about covering your bodies but don’t bat an eye while making absolute fools of yourselves in the middle of the village… I just don’t get it.”
As she saunters inside, stark naked and hiding nothing, I turn to Temari and smile mischievously,” one last kiss before we part ways?”
She pecks my lips quickly, smiling back,” one for now, one for when I wake up in the morning next to you.”
Fighting for love was one thing, but a love for fighting is what drove us crazy for each other, and I loved the thought of fighting with her for years to come… playfully of course.
#temari#temari x reader#naruto imagines#naruto fanfiction#Temari x female reader#sand siblings#temari of the sand#Temari x f!reader
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Things I've Written
idk how vital this is, but in case anyone's curious about the stories I've posted and don't feel like browsing my galleries, here's a quick rundown.
1. Everyone's Feeding You: By far my most popular piece. My first foray into second-person smut. You (assumed femme) have recently noticed people treating you a bit differently lately. Like, weirdly hospitable and giving with their food. And the endless gluttony maaay be having an effect on you. No explicit sex, just feedee vibes. Excerpt: "There were donuts in the breakroom the other day, and of course you took one. But then, back at your desk, your coworker offered you theirs—gave some excuse about having a big breakfast. And you took it, as though your girlfriend hadn’t made you a monstrous omelet that morning. And then, seeing that, your other coworker put half of their donut on your desk and said they were trying to watch their weight. And as you stuffed more jelly pastry into your already-full stomach, you couldn’t shake the thought: they were treating you like the fat girl of the group. Everyone was."
2. Calories and Kink: A long one, posted chapter by chapter. 17 are up so far (as of 5/31), but it will have an ending. Anthro furry stuff. Alexa, local goth lesbian fox, wastes away in her barren hometown. Her friends have moved on to better places. Her last relationship went out like an industrial fire (toxic, avoidable, burned longer than anyone expected). Another lonely night at the bar takes a turn when she bumps into Reggie, a big bad jock of a maned wolf, once the high school bully and Alexa's guilty crush. Both soon realize they've grown past the childish antagonism, but not their secret hots for each other. And Alexa has another hidden desire driving her: she wants to get fat. Is Reggie the dominant feeder she's been longing for? Is that worth looking past Reggie's history? Explicit. Excerpt: "Reggie rolled her eyes. 'Ya know, you gave me shit for acting like I was still in high school. Yet here you are still looking and talking like the same don’t-care won’t-care stoner goth you always were.'
'Like you knew who I was. You barely noticed me.'
'Whatever. Give me your phone number.'
Now that she’d calmed down a bit, Alexa stopped to honestly consider her feelings. The night had been a rollercoaster. Would she want to do it again? Did she really want to see how serious Reggie had been back at the pizza shop? What if she did gain weight? Her mom wouldn’t like it, but it wasn’t like she was here. Alexa’s coworkers and friends wouldn’t give her any shit. But still, it was one of those things she’d always regarded as a fantasy. Something to read about online, something to stroke off to. She’d never actually talked to anyone IRL about it. Well, not since Syd. This could either be amazing or another catastrophe."
3. The Food Hoarder: The 3.5 Draconomicon is my favorite D&D sourcebook to date for many reasons. There's a dragon-exclusive prestige class called dragon ascendant. One of the prerequisites to taking the class is to eat one's own hoard. So uhhh yeah the premise writes itself: an ancient dragon who hoards food learns what step one is to becoming a goddess. Nothing explicit, technically feral I guess but I've always considered dragons an interesting case. Excerpt: "She lifted her lithe body and stretched, not unlike a hundred-foot cat. On light feet, she padded about her lair, examining the displays of food. Where to start? She wasn’t particularly hungry, having eaten several cattle just yesterday and lazed about since then. Well, she thought, running through the catalogue in her head. If we’ve already had dinner, why not begin with dessert? Her forked tongue licked her cavernous chops as she leapt up to a broad ledge on the north side of the chamber. Cakes. Pies. Pastries. Iced cream. Tarts. Puddings. Casks of sweet wines. All flavors, from all cultures in the world."
4. The Hunger of Dragons: More dragons! When Astal, local anthro dragon adventurer lady, is invited over for dinner by her old friend Silith, she discovers an appetite she didn't know she had. Silith is already well aware of her special relationship with food, as is her human girlfriend, Elryn. Sapphism ensues, and Astal learns a lot about herself. This one also has me dipping my toe into some light macro. Explicit. Excerpt: "Astal smiled, the nerves and awkwardness disappearing in her old friend’s soft embrace. And Silith was soft. When she stepped back, Astal saw that she had chubbed up quite a bit. Silith had never been as thin as her friend, but now she sported a hefty belly and chest, with thick padding everywhere else. Even her scaly red tail seemed fatter. Her wavy hair framed a round, tenderly smiling face with a blunted snout.
'It’s good to see you too,' Astal replied. 'You seem...healthy.' She caught herself staring at her friend’s middle as she spoke and quickly looked up. 'Doing well for yourself, I mean.'"
5. Kobolds Need Food, Badly: A quick, fun romp wherein 3 runaway kobolds settle an argument through gluttony. One thinks the city is the best place to live, the second heard about a cave of desires, and the third advocates stealing from a witch. They part ways, agreeing that whoever gains the most weight in a year will have found their new home. Nothing explicit. Excerpt: "Riska was taken aback as they strolled the streets of the human city. Until now, they were under the impression the tall ones slept when the sky was dark. But many still bustled to and fro under the light of lamps, some apparently on business, other obviously seeking pleasure. Keeping their purpose in mind—and feeling like their stomach was imploding—Riska followed the latter types and soon found a bustling row of taverns. Their sharp, draconic nose soon picked up a dizzying array of scents. Never had they sensed so much or so many kinds of food in one place before, but this was how they imagined the caravans from their grandfather’s stories."
6. Doubling Up: Tessa the centaur and Lina the werewolf have a new housemate who likes to cook. A lot. And even though she stopped to eat her fill on the way home already, Tessa can't bring herself to turn down a centaur-sized portion of home-cooked food. And oopsie, it awakens something in her...and in Lina. (Feedism, it awakens feedism.) Explicit. Excerpt: "She couldn’t possibly eat more tonight, right? But also…what if she could? She felt she had to try. The first bite solidified her decision. Like the rest of the meal, the cobbler showed RJ to be a brilliant cook. Bite after bite disappeared between Tessa’s lips. She was in a haze, but she kept eating. When the pie was gone, she paused and let a new wave of fullness wash over her. She’d pushed her limits tonight, for sure. But as long as she didn’t make this a habit, she figured there was no harm in the extra indulgence."
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Yandere Birdbox (1/5)
Word count ; 4.0k
*Edited.
*Dedicated to @horrorfan-666-anoynmous. This is gn!reader. The plot will be on the abstract side and it’ll be only me that’ll actually know what’s going through my head explanation-wise. Enjoy :)
The citizens of small town Lacombe, Alberta were already starting to bundle up. It was late October and already the middle-of-nowhere area was starting to feel chills. Many had stocked up on new winter jackets; the shop keepers were already starting to run the heater in the early morning; and those that wandered late at night could see their breath.
It was safe to say the local clothes store was having a run on the winter jackets. And, alike to the other customers, Y/n was quick to hop on the trend. Their cane was outstretched in front of them while a plastic bag dangled from their other hand, tearing at the seams from how large the wooly coat was.
Y/n always appreciated that Lacombe was easy to traverse. There was rarely traffic or people to run into to begin with, and the town was so small they could probably manage to walk from one end to the other in under an hour. It was a quaint place. And, for someone labeled as disabled, that was certainly appreciated.
They ran their cane over the sidewalk, avoiding another street lamp. They came to a grinding halt as they found the ledge, and they pulled their phone from their pocket. Y/n started,” Hey, Siri, is the traffic light green?”
The quiet voice was easily overpowered as cars flew past the curb. That was answer enough, and Y/n expected that the tiny app would tell them when the lights changed, as per usual. They clutched the bag closer to their side, and despite the thick sweater and jeans and boots, Y/n was still feeling the chills of the quickly cooling weather as the days passed.
“Hey, do you need some help getting home?” A young man around Y/n’s age, tatted and pierced up the wazoo, approached. He eyed them in worry, continuing,” If you need directions —“
“Do I look like I need help?” Y/n snapped irritably.
The man was taken aback, and despite recognizing that they were blind as a bat, held his hands up defensively. “Geez, asshole. I was just trying to be nice. You clearly woke up on the wrong side of the fucking bed.”
Y/n didn’t reply. They were ever so slightly irked - even though they consciously knew they shouldn’t be - but chose to ignore the random man. Their foot tapped against the concrete impatiently and their fingers were itching to get back to work.
“…Huh?”
The man furrowed his brows, eyeing the sky. He wasn’t the only one to stop in pure confusion. The entire town of Lacombe came to a screeching halt and perhaps even the earth stopped spinning. Because, descending from the sky, was a large, grey blob. It was far too circular to be a plane, but far too small to be a ship of some sort.
And it was rocketing right toward the center square.
From Y/n’s phone, Siri’s robotic voice chirped,” The light is red.”
Y/n used their cane, stepping off into the street. However, their movements shook the young man free of his paralysis. In horror, he saw that the late, egg-shaped monolith was barreling to the center block, right to where Y/n was intending to walk through.
“Hey, asshole, stop. Don’t walk out into the middle of the street —!”
They paid him no mind. Some women screamed, others gasped, but generally, the consensus was to gain distance from the large, metallic thing. And Y/n, in their blissfully unaware state, had no idea that they were heading into an immediate danger zone.
“Jesus fucking christ!”
The man reached out, grabbing their upper arm. Y/n yelped, the cane being torn from their hold. The young man jerked them back, and Y/n tripped on the ledge. Both went barreling to the ground, the concrete tearing into their clothes, but that was immediately the least of their worries.
It hit. No more than a couple yards away, the unidentified flying object collided into the ground. Smoke and steam poured from it, and very quickly, the streets were rolled over with a thick fog. Y/n and the man began coughing viciously. They covered their mouth, propping themselves up on their elbows.
“The light is green.”
The man peered up, trying his best to stumble to his feet. He was anxious, and his eyes flitted with concern to and from the blind individual, even more confused than anyone else. When he was on his feet, he waved some of the mist away, but he could no longer see the metal sheath as the fog seemingly dispersed into nothing.
And that was what was left. Nothing. The only indication it was there in the first place was a large dent and rapture in the pavement, large cracks crossing all the way to the sidewalk itself. Everyone was slowly gathering, and even the cars had gone into park to see what the commotion was.
“Hey, dude, let me help you up,” the man mumbled, grabbing out to Y/n’s arm.
Y/n, not arguing and far too shaken up by how the earth had rumbled, grasped onto the man and made their way onto their feet. They continued to grip the man tightly, and questions threatened tho escape their lips. The man was still staring warily at where the object once was.
And then, one of those questions escaped.
“What… happened?”
“I - I don’t fucking know. There was some thing in the sky coming right toward the street. It hit not too far from us and, uh… now it’s, like, gone.”
Y/n was too shaken up. Their brows furrowed and they aimed to prod further, but they knew damn well he was as unknowing as the next person. They decided they would just shake it off. They were going to try their best to get to the safety of their home, because whatever happened could’ve been a bomb for all they knew.
They detached from the man. They crouched down, reaching around for their walking cane.
“The light is red.”
A piercing shriek broke out from across the street. Y/n was on their hands and knees in search of the cane, still abandoned a few feet in the street ahead of them. However, both them and the man froze in here confusion. And I ust like that, all panic broke loose.
“Holy fuck!” he exclaimed, stumbling back to a store window and pressing himself against him. “What the hell…”
The woman from across the street suddenly stepped up to a lamppost. All at once, she began bashing her head against it. Others screamed, but what was more terrifying was how certain citizens were completely silent. A hoard began to circle the lamppost, doing the same exact thing.
Suddenly, the cars started up. From each intersection, cars went flying toward one another. Screams echoed the plaza, and all at once, explosions from those imploding in the center ensued. The man was screaming at the top of his lungs.
But Y/n was far too shocked and baffled to know what was going on. For all they knew, a war started. A smoke grenade was set off and everyone was going insane. But what they did know was that screaming wouldn’t do a damn thing, especially with how the wind had picked up and was now howling just as loudly as the shrieks themselves.
Y/n curled up into a ball in on the ground. The cane, finally found, was clutched in their grasp. It didn’t do much, but they shut their eyes tightly and rolled ever so slightly back and forth. Siri’s voice was greatly silenced by the pure mania surrounding them.
“Wh - what…- Hey, asshole, we need to —“
Just like that, an engine roared. The man was cut short as a large truck came barreling across the sidewalk, totaling the man into the store front. The window shattered. Y/n let out a mangled sob, hearing the engine burst. The scene was hardly the most gruesome of their surroundings, but it was bad.
The man’s body was but a splatter of blood and torn flesh. It was a large lump inside the hardware store, and the truck itself had the entire engine shoved through the window. The airbag poured out the open windows, masking the imploded head on a once living human being’s body. The glass had shattered and scattered around the ground, but the tiny shards that dug into Y/n’s pant legs were hardly the greatest of their worries.
“Jace!” a mother bellowed, grasping at her child’s shoulders, not even a hundred yards away. “Jace, what’s wrong? What are you looking at? You’re alright, baby, you’re alright —“
And just like that, a fog passed over her vision. She was not afraid, no; but, alike to her son, she looked so very depressed. Nobody would ever know why, too preoccupied with their own hallucinations. It was frightening how, once the cars went silent, Y/n became dutifully aware of how silent the screams had become.
Because, not too far away, that single mother and her young boy were clawing out their own eyeballs. They did not care how deep their fingers dug into their sockets and how badly it stung to rip their eyes free entirely. They did not care that blood spewed and darkness clouded their vision.
And that was soon because both dropped dead to the ground, too enchanted by the visions they’d witnessed.
Y/n was only half aware of the fact that people are seeing things. They were being possessed, and whatever that fog was made everyone around them kill themselves. The wind was howling so viciously, whipping Y/n’s body around. They clutched the plastic bag and one to their chest, trying to ignore how wet their jeans were.
‘Look.’
Clear as a bell, a feminine voice whispered to them. Y/n clawed into the ground the best they could, covering their ears. They rocked back and forth, terrified tears continuing to spill from their eyes.
‘Look, Y/n.’
All at once, it was a chorus. So many different voices, ranging from a small toddler to an old man, were crowding their head. It was awful, because they couldn’t. They couldn’t look and they weren’t sire they wanted to even if they could. Whatever people were witnessing was horrifying and grotesque.
‘You saw once and you can see again. Look.’
‘To see is beautiful, Y/n. To look is heaven.’
“Stop,” Y/n muttered gruffly, shaking their head. “Shut up. You’re not real.”
‘Look, look, look. To witness is divine.’
Something suddenly smacked across their cheek. It smeared, and Y/n yelped, but it kept returning. Smack. Smack. Smack. Over and over again, the wind brought it back. And then, it was only duplicated. Two wet items were hitting Y/n, and they swatted it away.
At a final swat, they ended up enclosing their hand around the object.
‘Look.’
Y/n squished it. It felt slimy, like jello. And, as they felt around the circular object, they noticed a long thread escape a part of it. The object was so wet, and it didn’t take more than a moment for them to connect the dots. A howl escaped their lips and they dropped the crushed eyeball to the ground.
And then, the wind stopped. The voices stopped. Everything stopped. No more screams, no more crashing cars. Nothing. And that terrified Y/n to their very core.
They released a shaky breath, propping themselves up on their elbows. Y/n eagerly wiped their hand on their jeans, reeling in pure disgust. Their jeans were soaked to the core, and they were more than happy to use their cane to stumble to their feet.
The wind was still howling, and yet, it was as though the entity itself was the wind. Some dead leaves slapped against Y/n’s body, and they used the cane to stabilize themselves. They were hyperventilating crazily.
“The light is green.”
Y/n took their phone out from their pocket. Immediately, they ordered,” Hey Siri, call nine-one-one.”
They wanted to begin shuffling away. But they were still paralyzed in fright, so baffled by the sudden - and seemingly supernatural - turn of events. The phone kept ringing.
And ringing.
And ringing.
Y/n gulped, connecting the dots. The local police station was as fucked as everyone else. They had no idea what was going on, but what they did know was that it was cold and scary and dangerous. And that they needed to go home. Now.
Gulping, they outstretched the cane. They made sure to be precise, waving it in every approaching inch. Halfway across the street, the cane collided right with a hunk of metal, and they scaled the piece, recognizing that a car crash happened right in front of them. They maintained a mental map - if they could even call it that - and made it around the vehicles.
They didn’t hear a single sound, except for their footsteps and the wind. It was deadly silent and it shouldn’t have been. It was odd how, in the span of no more than three seconds, Lacombe had gone from a friendly and quaint village town to a hell-scape.
They were often bitter about their blindness, but they were now glad they were left unable to witness the events. And, potentially, it had saved their life.
They made it down the sidewalk. There were so many corpses and detached limbs that they tripped frequently. And it made no sense, but it was like the bustling wind was following their every step. It was frightening to know but not see what was going on. But Y/n couldn’t have been more grateful for it.
As they made their way to the small apartment complex, hardly three stories tall and with roughly ten apartments for rent, they passed by the worst gore of all; there was a pyramid of crushed cars and bodies, towering almost as high as the building itself. The pile creaked and swayed with every burst of wind.
Y/n opened the front entrance. They shut and locked the door behind them, already feeling far more safe and secure. They used the cane to traverse the steep steps to the second story, and the moment they felt the familiar apartment door, a sigh of relief escaped.
Shakily, they removed their keys from their pocket. They felt around for the lock before it entered with ease and the door swung open with an eerie creak. Oftentimes, they hated that the neighbors threw constant parties since they belonged to some far more immature young adults. And the apartment directly above their’s was occupied by some abusive couple.
And nothing made them happier than the silence. Or, at least, that would’ve been the case if it wasn’t because an entire population had been slaughtered by unknown attackers.
They shut and locked the door, momentarily pressing their back against it to catch their thoughts. They panted profusely, waiting a brief moment to simply… catch their breath. Think. Because as far as they knew, it was either the end of Canada or the end of the entire world.
Y/n’s apartment was quaint and, right upon walking in, it was clear it belonged to an artist. There were various paint splurges on the wall. Several of their works - or, at least, the most successful - were framed. They weren’t the originals, as some very rich people were instantly captivated by them, but they were the best of the best. Y/n was an artist. And, thanks to her special background, a fairly well-known one.
To the right was a small kitchen with the usual appliances and an island with barstools. Beyond that, a small living room with a couch, coffee table, and their kindle. Right in front, without an especially acquired office, was the place where they painted. An easel, a small desk with a notebook. Drawers with supplies, and many, many blank canvases. Beyond the public living space was a small bed and bathroom, messy and cluttered because the maid hadn’t been around in a few weeks.
They sighed and pushed themself from the wall. They felt disgusting. The first thing they wanted to do was strip off their filthy clothes - even if it was rather chilly inside the apartment - and shower. So, they did just that. And a half hour later, they emerged, towel wrapped around their neck and snuggly adorning fluffy pajamas.
They sat at the island. Their thoughts were still racing, but at least they were more coherently organized. And, as much as they thought to their father, wanting to check up on him, they spoke,” Hey Siri, turn on CBC live.”
Siri did so. The wifi was abnormally slow, and much to their unawareness, didn’t even work thanks to the amount of cars that crashed into telephone lines and electricity servers. The world around them was dying, and the moment the news started, they started realizing it.
“—International tragedy has struck,” the news reporter spoke urgently. “Mass hysteria that leads leading to suicide is occurring worldwide. Scientists and politicians are scrambling to discover the contaminants of the air, if any, and suspect a far deadlier and rapid mutation of dancing mania.
“Religious communities are calling it ‘the end of times.’ Others are insisting it is a long-since-coming alien invasion. There are several videos circulating of egg-shaped pods shooting from the sky. The videos are as can be seen here.”
Y/n grumbled in irritation, hearing the screams and crash from the video. It was displayed in the corner of the phone screen while the news reporter was standing still, clearly sweating bullets. Even the camera man was trembling. The studio was oddly dark, except for the bleeding light from the windows beyond the camera. The video finally stopped.
“…This supposed virus was seemingly first appeared in Los Angelos, California, but many separate clusters have been spotted in Shanghai, London, New York, Brazil, Moscow, and Lagos. We advise that you stay inside your house at all costs. I repeat, stay inside and stay safe —“
The news reporter went silent. Y/n blinked in bafflement, concern growing in their chest. And then the camera man tittered,” John? John, are alright —“
A scream escaped the cameraman. It was live footage of the news reporter himself, John, pushing past the cameraman aggressively. The entire screen became blurry and some cracks covered it. The camera man was pushed and became far too quiet.
Although the view was tilted, it was plain as day that John crashed right through the skyscraper window. The glass shattered. The camera man was crawling toward it just as quickly, blubbering in awe. He was muttering something to himself.
But Y/n had heard enough. “Hey Siri, go to the home screen.”
The phone went silent once the report was completely minimized. Y/n’s ears rang because the silence was utterly deafening. They gulped thickly and their mouth was completely dry. They were thirsty, but for all they knew, whatever was killing the entire world population was in the water, too.
They rose to their feet and went to the fridge. They felt around, knowing it like the back of their hand. In the door shelves were rows of beer. Their immediate action was to pick one up. Y/n one drank a few times a month and saved it for special occasions - after completing a painting, for instance - and the end of the world seemed as good of an excuse as any other.
Their phone was left abandoned on the counter for the time being. They trotted over to the living room and plopped onto the couch. Y/n popped open the beer and took a quick swig. The flinched, not the fondness of the strength of the beverage, but if they was going to die, it was better to die drunk and unaware that one was dying.
Y/n was faced toward the small windows. The walls of the apartment was made of bricks and the floor of wood. It did its job, namely, housing someone, but a complaint of the building was that it wasn’t ‘modern.’ They couldn’t care less since it’s not like they could see the lack of modernity.
And, as proven in this day and age where aliens were apparently invading, it mattered even less. Y/n didn’t care too much about saving their hide. A part of them always wanted to die the day they went blind. That day… Y/n dreaded to remember it. Because they couldn’t. There was nothing to see. Only things to hear.
They laid back on the couch, kicking their feet up. The beer was abandoned on the coffee table. They crossed their arms after readjusting the pillow. Y/n was consumed by their thoughts, and it struck them as odd that, even in the apocalypse days, they were still consumed with bitterness and selfishness. They knew damn well their life wasn’t supposed to revolve around them being angry at a god that might exist for taking their sight.
Because they knew damn well that not only did other blind people have it far worse, but that other people had it worse. And sometimes, Y/n felt bad that they were so goddamn bitter and mean. But now, it was the end of humanity as everyone knew it. So they didn’t feel nearly as bad because it clearly didn’t matter if aliens were planning to take over.
Y/n forced their mind to become silent. And, somehow, amidst the world ending, they fell right to sleep. The apartment complex was a safe haven, because even upon exiting the front door, there were bodies upon bodies. It was frightening. And it was deadly silent except for the bellowing winds.
It was home. And, as cranky and miserable of a human Y/n was known for being, they were undoubtedly talented. They’d been on many late-night interviews. And even to this day, Y/n was still baffled as to why. Because somehow - despite everything they painted being replications of their dreams - they were ‘profoundly lifelike.’
For instance, one of their most recent paintings was recognized as an exact replication of the Kunlun Mountains, as if drawn from memory. And, seeing as they’ve never even left the memory and became blind before they could even think about taking geography, it was truly a miracle.
Next to that was a fairly abstract one; ironically, it was named ‘The End of Days.’ It portrayed a rather ghastly figure, its face scrawled and yet defined. Y/n often had help picking out the paints, but they custom ordered a palette with the brail inscriptions of the colors. And, despite how Y/n often had landscapes drawn that were colorful and captivating, this particular one was dark and dismal, yet used earthy colors such as maroon and brown.
And finally, the ‘portrait,’ as Y/n considered it, that was the breakthrough. It was the painting everyone knew and was the most popular work. It stung them to the core just thinking of it, but even decades later, it was burned into their brains.
‘Last Look.’ The title itself was fairly straightforward. Y/n remembered it like yesterday.
#yandere#x reader#x y/n#self insert#yandere x reader#bird box#bird box x reader#yandere oneshot#yandere horror#yandere bird box#yandere birdbox#birdbox#horror movies#horror movie
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VIRALITY // 04
04 - Rained In
summary/masterlist: here
word count: 2.4k
crossposted: ao3
pairing: nicholas ruffilo x fem!oc
a/n: don’t be mean for no reason & let others enjoy things thnx :)
VALLIE
A slight chill of autumn seeped through the cracked windows of Nicholas' beat-up Ford Focus. The air in the car was awkward and quiet and I spent the first half of the car ride watching the trees as we passed them. Finally, I spoke up with a question that had been bugging me.
"So, is he always like that?" I asked obviously talking about Noah.
He hesitated and kept his eyes focused on the road, "No."
"Then what's his problem?"
Nick let out a long sigh, "You're like, like a threat or something, and he's just overly protective of the band." His right hand rolled in the air matching his syllables.
"Right." I nodded. My eyes wandering up to the messy bun he'd thrown his black hair into. "And that's because...?"
He breathed out in defeat and readjusted his hands on the steering wheel. "It's all he really has." He paused, maybe contemplating further disclosing to me. "The rest of us have other career paths we could fall back on. We all have back-up plans, but this band is all he has." He chose his words carefully.
"Oh." I replied quietly. This new information began to dissolve the distasteful words my brain had logged for him. I rested my arm on the door ledge and watched the fluffy clouds beginning to tint with charcoal. He had somehow found some back road I didn't know about. The route was quite scenic with tall pointy trees and distant mountains, it was extremely refreshing compared to the usual overcrowded LA skyline.
"What about you?" Asked Nicholas, snapping me out of my daze.
"What about me?" I furrowed my brows and straightened up in my seat defensively.
He glanced over at me briefly then back to the darkening road, "Are you always like that?" Flipping the question back onto me.
"Am I like what?" I replied sharply. Just because he was kind enough to drive me home didn't mean that he had just thrown out all his own feelings about the situation.
He rolled his eyes jokingly, "You know what I mean. Are you always, ya know" He stiffened his arms and facial features to mimic a... robot?
I couldn't help but grin and roll my eyes at his nonsense, "No. I'm not." I leaned back to my spot at the window, the grey sky was now nearly black. "You all are just kinda...mean."
He feigned offense with a gasp and a hand on his chest, "You think I'm mean Vallie?"
Nicholas was the first one out of the lot to actually call me by my name, it was nice.
I chuckled and lightly smacked his arm. I normally didn't let my personality show much with clients, especially so early, but his playful energy was contagious. With the way everything happened, I didn't really expect to get along with any of them, nonetheless have fun. But Nicholas made me feel comfortable already, he made it easy to settle in to the less-than-ideal circumstances.
When we arrived at my temporary home, it was pouring rain and it was only getting worse. "Fuck," I breathed out, trying to analyze the space between the car and my front door. "I can barely see a foot away." I said as I watched the sheets of cold rain come down blocking any visibility. I looked over at Nicholas who was doing the same as me, looking at the rain in extreme apprehension. "You can't drive home in this."
He feigned confidence, "Oh," blowing away the caution. "I'll be fine."
"Nick, you literally can't even see in front of you." I pointed to my hidden driveway. "Just come inside until it calms down?" I offered. "It's the least I can do for letting you take me home."
It didn't take much more convincing before he immediately turned the car off and reached behind for an umbrella, "Let's get the fuck out of here." And jumped out of the car, popping open the umbrella and quickly made his way around the car to get me.
We booked it towards my front door but with his longer legs than mine, he ended up way ahead of me. "Hey!" I call over the loud roar of the storm. He glanced over his shoulder at me then reached behind to grasp my hand. It wasn't until that split second that I noticed his eyes, they nearly blended into the blue-gray translucency of the rainy background.
Once finally in my foyer we were soaked, freezing and dripping rain everywhere. "I don't suppose you have a towel?" He chuckled, hugging his own body for warmth.
I found myself grinning at his endearing laugh, "Yeah I got you."
-
I returned with a towel for him while I used another to squeeze the water out of my hair. "I thought it wasn't supposed to rain in California." I commented peeking out the thin window next to my door.
"You say that like you're new here?" He observed as he mimicked my actions on his similarly long hair. My eyes lingered on him, completely drenched with his black shirt clinging to his abdomen and strands of wet hair framing his tan face.
"Nah." I shook my head to break my stare. "Well, I guess new now, I used to live here a long time ago. I flew in from New York a couple days ago for the meeting with you guys. Seems I'll be staying much longer now."
"Ah, that makes sense." He nodded with a poorly hidden playful smirk.
"What does?" I questioned with a propped brow.
"You would be from New York." He teased.
I lightly smacked his arm with feigned offense, "What does that mean!"
He chuckled, "The designer bags, the business casual vibe, the boots. I don't know, you just have a New York vibe." He shrugged.
"That's a tad pretentious don't you think?" I rolled my eyes and started walking away towards the hallway.
"Me?" He scoffed, "If anyone is pretentious around here it's you."
I glared at him over my shoulder, "You're awfully rude to someone who's providing a dry safety right now."
He put up his hands in defense, "Alright, alright." He laughed, "You don't happen to have some like, spare ‘male’ clothes? I mean I'm pretty skinny so I could probably fit into any-"
"Yes, I got you." I chuckled and motioned him to follow me to the guest bath. "Be right back."
Once in my bedroom, I dug through my suitcase to find an oversized tee and some sweatpants. I spun on my heels with the clothes folded perfectly in my arms and headed back to him. When I stepped into the doorway, I was thrown off to see him already shirtless. My eyes dwelled on his tan tattooed skin longer than they should've, trailing down his abdomen to his jeans unbuckled just enough to show the band of his boxers. I quickly blinked and jutted the pile out to him. "Here."
I was relieved to see he hadn't noticed my wandering eyes. He just gave me a wide smile, it was so bright and happy, you would've thought I handed him a kitten. "Thank you so much." Taking the stack with one hand on the bottom and the other on top and placing them down on the vanity. I caught my gaze lingering again, this time on his large, tattooed hands – with such long fingers. "Are they your boyfriend's?" He asked.
I nearly busted out laughing, "God no – exes."
"You keep your exes' clothes?" He questioned with a propped brow.
"What! They're comfy." I crossed my arms with a playful huff.
Nicholas pulled the black cotton shirt up by the shoulders and let it unravel in front of him, "Well, your ex has good taste." And turned the oversized band tee to me.
"Oh," I brought a hand up to mouth to cover a grin, "That's actually mine. But you can still wear it, I don't mind."
"You like Dayseeker?" He asked, doing very little work to hide his shock.
"Yes? What did you think I listen to?"
"I don't know... I figured something like Harry Styles, since you manage him." He replied completely serious.
I giggled and lightly smacked his arm, "What is it with you guys thinking I work for Mr. Styles?"
"Well don't you?" He inquired earnestly.
I gave it some thought before deciding to play into it, "Hm...well I'm legally not allowed to say." Giving him a suspicious eyebrow wiggle.
"See! I knew it!" He practically jumped with victorious fists.
I rolled my eyes at him, "I'm gonna change too, then I'll be in the kitchen when you're done, I'm starving."
As I was walking away, he called from behind the cracked bathroom door, "You know we toured with Dayseeker!"
"Maybe I'd actually go to that show then!" I teased from down the hall.
A laugh boomed from the bathroom, "You're pretty funny Val."
I felt an unexpected warmth bloom on my cheeks accompanied with a small churn in my stomach. I shook my head of the feeling. I must've just been really hungry – or majorly under-caffeinated.
After throwing our clothes in the drier and practically raiding my entire pantry. We sat crisscross on my Airbnb's stale modern couch facing each other from each end. My outfit was nearly identical to his, oversized shirt and sweatpants with even my dark hair matching his in a messy bun. I pulled a Dorito from the bag then handed it over to Nicholas while he handed me back the cheese doodle bag in exchange.
"Bet you didn't expect to be rained in with your new scary manager," I gave some spooky finger exaggeration to the words, "While sharing Doritos... and cheese puffs."
"No, dude, you're so much more chill than I thought you'd be." He took two sandwiched Doritos into his mouth with a big crunch. "The guys just need to get over it and get to know you better." He continued, covering his full mouth like a true gentleman.
I smiled softly and looked down at the chip bag in front of me. I guess I hadn't realized until just then that maybe them all instantly hating me had impacted me more than I thought. It was a risky career decision that I made for mostly their benefit and I was only met crude behavior. It's hard not to feel something when complete strangers immediately hate you, especially when you have to work with them. While I had made a name for myself in the industry, I still hadn't gotten used to the cutthroat business of it. I was navigating my career on my own, just like them.
"Hey," Nick spoke up gently breaking me out of my haze. "They'll come around, I promise. Especially when Noah does, the other two will follow."
"Yeah." I said softly, smoothing out the edges of the chip bag. It was something I always did when I got lost in my mind, I'd just fold or organize things to distract myself.
"Look, hey," He leaned over and placed his hand on my own, "I'm sorry for the way we acted, especially Noah. It's not cool or... or professional at all." His hand on me felt like a jolt of lightning that spread warmth over my entire body; in some odd way, it comforted me.
My eyes met his over the kind gesture and I was once again amazed by his almost silver eyes. "Thanks." I said quietly giving him a tight-lipped smile. His eyes seemed so genuine, I wanted to believe him.
"Hey, what about," He began excitedly with gears visibly turning in his mind, "What if we host like a party or like a get together or something, for just the five of us? To like get to know each other a little? Ya know, break the ice."
It was like a lightbulb moment in my head, a dim one, but a lightbulb nonetheless. "That... that could work. I guess that wouldn't be so bad."
His wide grin held the same authenticity as his eyes did. "Great! I'll get with the guys, maybe this weekend?"
I nodded, "Sounds good to me." It was only then that I noticed the way my hand was still tingling from where his hand was.
"Cool." He grinned and reached out to swap bags with me again. He leaned backward a little to peek out the window checking the weather. "Well, it doesn't look like the rain is stopping anytime soon. You wanna watch a movie or something?" He suggested, "A scary movie is perfect for this type of weather."
-
I usually liked scary movies, but Nicholas picked out some indie one with such an unnerving tone. It was definitely a choice for a movie night with someone you barely know, nonetheless a colleague. Regardless, something about the unsettling movie, the dark storm outside, and my freezing cold AC, we somehow ended up sat next to each other crisscross in the middle of the couch.
Nicholas' eyes were glued to the flat screen, the movie was evidently affecting him the same way as it was me. He glanced over to me, "Oh, we can stop if you want!" He offered over-enthusiastically.
"No, actually I'm fine." I declined with a hint of competition in my voice, "Why are you scared?"
"No, no, I'm fine." He replied quickly, straightening up beneath his own blanket.
"You look pretty scared Nick." I teased, nudging his blanket-covered shoulder with mine.
"Me? Oh no, I'm not." He said confidently, "You just look scared is all."
I chuckled with a slight chatter in my teeth, "No, I'm just cold."
"Oh, you coulda said something!" He grinned at me and suddenly the fear in his grey eyes vanished. "Here." He scooted closer and overlapped half his blanket over my own. The added warmth of the layered blanket and his body next to me helped to ease my own fear.
"Thanks." I smiled softly, purposely avoiding his eyes. There was a short uncomfortable lull in the air until I readjusted under the blankets and ended up even closer to him. Somehow our knees meeting in the middle relaxed me. As I leaned into the comfort, I was met with something else entirely. My heart rate was rising, and a funny swirling pit plummeted into my stomach.
I felt paralyzed next to him, utterly terrified of the heat that spread through my body and pooled in my core. Whatever the feeling was, I needed to snuff it out.
Next Chapter -> 05 - Trust Building Exercises
thank you so much if you took the time to read this! i didn’t see many bad omens fics, so i wanted to contribute. lmk if you liked it 🖤
#bad omens fanfiction#noah sebastian#nicholas ruffilo fanfic#noah sebastian fanfic#bad omens band#bad omens cult#noah sebastian bad omens#tdopom#concrete jungle#bad omens#the death of peace of mind#bad omens edit#nicholas ruffilo#bad omens fanfic#bad omens fic#noah bad omens#noah sebastian fic#nick ruffilo#joakim karlsson#noah sebastian fanfiction#rpf#nick folio#nicholas ruffilo bad omens
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(please note that I have no beta reader, and have no intention of fixing any issues/mistakes. this was written between moments of quiet at work, so its not the best but i didnt intend it to be. enjoy :) ))
Fandoms: God of War Ragnarok
Rating: General Audience
Warnings: No Warnings Apply
Categories: M/F
Characters: Atreus Kratosson-Laufeyson, Angrboda, Fenrir
Relationships: Atreus/Angrboda
Additional Tags: these two are dorks, young love, both of these idiots are touch-starved and you can’t tell me otherwise, fluff, Fenrir is just there to be a giant pillow :)
When Atreus had popped back into Ironwood unannounced, Angrboda hadn’t been expecting it to be so he could take her on a journey to show her something in Midgard.
The red-haired teen was unpredictable on the best of days, sure, but this took the cake. He checked in sometimes, showing up in Wildwoods, Freya’s house, or Ironwood interchangeably and with very little warning. Only for a few hours, but still. To have him visit to take her to another realm? That was new.
Fenrir had yipped happily, bouncing back and forth on his paws like a pup. It took a decent amount of time full of pets and playing fetch to wear him down enough to make a tear between realms, most of that time was spent with Atreus being lovingly squashed under the hulking form of his own wolf.
While the realm travel was quick, the boat ride was not. Angrboda skimmed her fingertips over the lake’s surface, soaking in the differences between this water’s coloring compared to Ironwood’s. The light of the sun made the untouched portion of water glimmer iridescently like a geode full of quartz.
Unsurprisingly, the hike up the side of the mountainside was just as gorgeous. The trees were covered with leave again, the thick canopy of green letting speckled beams of light through. Angrboda lifted her palms upward to splay the warmth upon them, and Atreus took small glances from the corner of his eyes to watch the gleam of golden metal looped in her hair. Gold was everywhere around them and it was simply beautiful.
“Hold on, I’ll climb up and help you.” Atreus called behind him, already beginning to scale the short way up the rock face they had reached, fingers digging into the crevices in the surface.
With a grunt, the boy heaved himself over the side. He turned back to his friend, who simply crooked an eyebrow at him. Bending over, he reached his hand out to the other teen. Angrboda took it gratefully, a smile blossoming across her face.
It only took a single tug from the godling and a minor jump from the giantess to clear the wall. Laughter rang through the air as the two rebalanced themselves, hands still laced together.
Atreus was the first to notice, eyes flickering between their connected hands and Angrboda, watching as she reached with her free hand to push a stray braid out of her face.
Her motions froze when she glanced at their hands, the other warm against hers. They released each other quickly, faint pink shades painting their faces equally.
Angrboda was the first to break the awkward silence, letting a small laugh out, Atreus following soon after. Like a spell being broken, the tension faded as quickly as it had formed. The two giants jumped from cropped rocks, throwing branches off the cliff for Fen to chase, and debating who would win the leg race this time around ( ‘You don’t have your magic steed this time!’).
Finally, Atreus planted his foot on the very edge of the cliff’s ledge and pointed out toward the lake.
“This is what I thought you should see,” the boy proclaimed proudly, eyes shining with anticipation and joy, “I found this view on one of my last trips back here.”
“It’s beautiful...,” Angrboda easily admitted, voice laced with awe.
It was indeed beautiful. The lake shimmered like the finest glass, the gentle waves lapping at the shores. The trees filled the landscape with thick layers of varying shades of green. The towers stood tall, strong columns of gray and golds against the bright blue of the water. Tyr’s temple was a shining gold beacon in the center, as intricate and pretty as the lake itself.
Jormungandr stood out the most though, his large body laid just right to appear like a mountain range against the clear sky. His scales caught the sun’s rays perfectly, causing them to shine as iridescently as the lake itself. It was breathtaking and Angrboda could already feel herself reaching into her satchel for her brushes.
With a canvas in hand, Angrboda plopped herself down on the ledge, legs dangling off the edge. She patted the spot next to her, eyes roaming the blank sheet as she plotted the course of her paints.
Atreus stared for a moment longer before dropping down onto his rear as roughly as his friend had, careful to not bump her.
Their thighs were touching, heat radiating where they touched. Atreus could feel his face flush, ear burning as he was sure his entire body had sent all its blood to his head. The rush made him dizzy, but he couldn’t help the smile that curled his lips.
Angrboda was leaning against his shoulder now, eyes squinted and nose scrunched up in concentration as she moved her paintbrush across the page, bright yellow spreading widely. Atreus had a feeling yellow was her favorite color.
He wasn’t sure if he should put his hand around her or simply leave her be. What qualified as appropriate in this situation? Would she stop leaning on him if he touched her back? He didn’t want to make her uncomfortable.
A million thoughts buzzed in his head, making the dizziness worse. Without realizing it, he had set his head atop hers, leaned to the side so his cheek rested against her hair, eyes closed against the bright sun.
The young giantess stilled for a moment, a blush of her own coloring her skin before she returned to her work. One strand of her braids fell foward, partly blocking her view but she didn’t move to adjust it back into place, instead letting it gently hang down. It was fine where it was and so was she.
By the time Angrboda finished, the sun had moved far to the west but hadn’t set yet. There was still plenty of light left, shimmering over the Lake of Nine and warming the two teens in its glow.
Leaning a little further into Atreus’s side, Angrboda ran her finger over the faded material of his sash, eyes and finger tracing the yellow trails along the dulled red. Her eyes struggled to stay open, the warmth and comfort of both the sun and another person beside her a bizarre mix of nostalgic and foreign.
The battle was lost before it had even begun, both teens’ breathing evening out as sleep overcame them, perhaps one more swiftly than the other.
---
Atreus startled awake when he felt a large form settle around him, relaxing at the sight of the spotted fur of Fenrir while laid to curl around him and Angrboda. Said giantess only opened one eye to peek at what had spooked her glorified body pillow, tiredness blurring her vision.
With a contented sigh, the young girl closed her eye again and shifted further into Atreus’s tunic. Embarrassment could be dealt with tomorrow, right now she was too comfortable to care.
The young boy couldn’t quite say the same, he was certain his entire face was as bright red as the fruits in his mother’s garden. The heat returned with a vengeance, his head dizzy and stomach clenching but....it wasn’t bad. There was a giddiness there too, youthful awe and wonder at the causal closeness between them.
The godling leaned his head back against Fen’s shoulder, patting it gently with his hand. The wolf whined softly, wiggling his massive muzzle under his owner’s arm. The boy in turn let out a quiet laugh, half hum and half chuckle.
Scratching up and down Fen’s snout, Atreus could feel himself drifting back to sleep. His eyes felt heavy, and his fingers slowed, though Fenrir didn’t seem to mind as he too was wavering in his wakefulness.
Cautiously, as though to not break the peace between them, Atreus lowered his other arm to wrap around Angrboda, pushing their heads together as they both relaxed and allowed slumber to claim them.
#atreus x angrboda#angrboda#atreus#gowr#god of war ragnarok#my writing#fluff#these kids are soft and so am i#the dizziness thing is from how i feel when people touch me or i touch others#as i too am touch starved#might add onto this with another one shot of the consequences of falling asleep in the sun with no sunscreen ripppp
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