#I think it makes more sense in my head but my point still stands
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How You Get the Girl - part 2
Supergirl. Lena Luthor x Reader!
Word Count: 2995.
Part 1
Notes: should I do another part? Would anyone be interested in a part 3?
You make your way to a new Earth, with a quick search you find out that the DEO is still active. Lena works for them and Supergirl doesn’t, which makes way more sense than the other way around.
“Hey, there you are!” One of the agents greets you with a lab coat with your name on it. “Ms. Luthor is waiting for you in lab 3.”
“Oh, I’m not —“ you breathe deep. “Heh, you know what? Whatever. Which way?”
“Lab 3?” He repeats as if you’re supposed to know. Then points in a direction when he draws no reaction from you. “That way.”
“Thanks!” You put on the lab coat that clearly doesn’t belong to you, and follow the direction he pointed to. “Hey Lena!”
“Oh.” Lena says, not looking up from the experiment before her. “Look who is finally on time!”
“No one’s ever complained about my tardiness before.” You complain half to yourself, half to Lena.
“Not to your face.” Her response comes quickly and you roll your eyes to it. "Take your place, please." She looks at the chair and you make your way there.
"So, why do I have a lab coat with my name on it? I'm not a scientist."
"God, no. Thank God, no." Lena says and you roll your eyes at her one more time, unamused. "You're my guinea pig."
"Cute." You already don't think this will be your favorite Lena.
Lena throws one look back at you, then clicks something on her computer. She looks at the cameras and you follow her gaze to see they no longer have a red light on, so that probably means she shut them down. "Did either J'onn or Kara see you coming in?"
"No."
"Does Alex know where you are?"
"I don't think so, no."
"Great." Lena turns around, straddling your lap, and she holds you face with both hands before kissing you so hard, you're almost left with no air inside you.
"Wait, wait." You try while she kisses down your neck, and her hands make way under your shirt. "I'm not your Y/N! I'm not –" Your brain refuses to work while her cold fingers slide on your bare skin. "I'm from a different universe!"
Lena takes her face from the crook of your neck and looks at you in disbelief. "Is this another excuse for us not to make out anymore?" She sounds uninterested. "Are you feeling bad for Alex again?"
"Why would I feel bad for Alex?"
"Because she is your wife?" Comes in the form of a question. Like a duh.
"WHAT!" You push Lena from your lap and stand up in a hurry. "I'm married in this universe and you and I –"
You look disgusted, but Lena just stares at you like she is waiting for your tantrum to be over. "We're horrible people!"
"Ok. Ok. I see what's happening. Alex did something sweet and now you want to break things off and then in a couple of days you're gonna call me again." She sounds nonchalant about it, and you're almost throwing up while hearing it.
"Oh no." You hold back the vomit on your mouth. "Hell no. I can't be stuck in this. I'm gonna get far away from you. You and Y/N from this Earth are both disgusting and messed up. I hope you know this." You take off the lab coat that doesn't belong to you and run so fast, you miss your counterpart walking in the DEO at the exact same time.
You land on a different Earth. It takes you a lot more investigation to find out where Lena is, and it's almost as if she is hiding. But you're a good reporter, you know Lena pretty well, so you manage to find her in a secret lab.
"Hey Lena." You have a smile on your face that soon fades when a gun is pointed to your head.
"You have ten seconds to tell me how you found me here, before I kill you." Lena's expression at you tells you she is not joking. She really means it.
"Shit. Wrong Earth. Wrong Earth." You fumble with your ring and thank God you get out of that place in less than ten seconds.
By the tenth trip it has gotten easier. Find Lena. Check if she doesn't hate you; if one of you is not married; if you two are actually gay; if the thought of you together doesn't make her gag. Explain who you are. Ask for advice. Get out of it empty handed.
Everything becomes a blur, and your memories start to merge the different worlds together. The many Lenas you've met seem so different that none of them resemble your Lena anymore. In fact, the confusion in your mind grows so intense that you begin to forget what your Earth and your Lena truly look like. But you won't quit.
You arrive in yet another world. You've seen it all. Earths where Lena doesn't love you, ones that she is straight, others she is with Kara, and in some you and her are together. Though those weren't exactly helpful. If anything, they added to your confusion and desperation. Are you ever gonna get the girl?
In this reality, Lena is the head of CatCo, making her your boss—a less than ideal situation, to say the least. You drag your sorry ass one more time, to face yet another disappointment, you're sure.
"Y/N!" Lena smiles when you wander into her office. It's late, most employees have left already, but there's a handful of people still preparing to leave. "I thought you had called a day." She looks at her watch. "A couple of hours ago."
You wait, is there a kiss coming your way? Are you going to stop it before it happens this time or are you going to pretend you don't want it to happen after it does? The kiss doesn't come. This Lena is waiting on your response from the exact same place, which probably means you two aren't together in this universe.
You collapse onto her beige couch, letting out a huge sigh. You're so tired of this hopeless crusade. Perhaps you and Lena were never meant to end up together. Maybe the versions of you that actually got the girl are a fluke. Glitches in the system.
"Darling," She comes closer. "are you ok?"
"No. God, no. I'm not ok." You raise your head to see Lena's worried features, while she hovers over you. "Before I say anything, I need to warn you I'm not your Y/N. I'm from another Earth, and this is probably the 15th one that I visited so far. So I'm exhausted and far from ok, and I just want to cry."
Lena blinks. Green eyes framed with dark eyeliner, pink lips slightly open, so confused. Her straight, dark hair falls around her face, and you can't help but to steal a look at her incredibly inappropriate cleavage for show.
"Just call your Y/N if you don't believe me."
"No, I –" She sits next to you, calmly. "I believe you." Lena purses her lips, staring at your watery eyes. "So, how come you want to cry?"
You blink your tears away. "I love you." You breathe out. "Well, not you exactly. But you, from my Earth. But you don't love me back, and I've been everywhere trying to find one universe where it all worked out. Where you didn't love me, but I could – I somehow won you over." The tears are now streaming down your face without your control, and you don't even bother cleaning them. She stares at you with wide eyes. "But what if you and I are never supposed to work? What if Lena is never supposed to love me back?" Your breath shudders and you can't barely get your words out. "What if this is it?"
Lena licks her lips, unable to respond. You're unsure of the endgame here; you're merely using this Lena to finally unload your emotions.
"How do I just bury this feeling so deep down, when it wants nothing but to exist?"
The question falls heavy from your mouth. Loaded with more than heartbreak and it can be felt from the way your words sound. Lena feels it too. Surely, the whole world would be able to feel it.
"You don't." She whispers back and you startle with the sound of her voice. You didn't think she would answer. "Y/N, I –" Lena breathes deep, gathering all of her courage. "I love you too. Well, you know what I mean. But on this Earth, you and Kara are dating."
"Yikes." Not yikes as in gross, but also, yes somewhat. Because you and Kara? That's weird and absurd and like dating a sister. But also yikes, cause you've landed on a universe where Lena loves you but she also didn't get the girl. "I'm sorry. I guess the last thing you needed was me crying on your couch about how much I love you."
She chuckles, looking up to hold back the tears. "God, this is so surreal." She turns to you like she's telling a secret. "I bought this company for you."
"Oh! You did that for Kara in my universe." You give her a watery laugh. "That's so very Lena of you." After a moment's thought, you lean in with a whispered revelation yourself. "I almost killed your brother to defend you. And trust me, I don't kill."
"Yeah, you – you did that for Kara here."
You and Lena fall into a weird silence. You notice from the corner of your eye that a few tears started falling on her face and you make a move to clean it up. She holds her breath to it, and her eyes flutter closed when your thumb brush softly against her skin.
She is not your Lena, but God, do they look the same, sound the same, and even smell the same. She is everything your Lena is, plus one huge difference: she is in love with a Y/N.
"I have an idea." You whisper, not to startle her, then move your finger away.
She doesn't open her eyes to whisper back, "Please, don't say Parent Trap."
"Hey!" You defend yourself earning a heartly laugh from her end. "Parent Trap is always a solid idea."
Lena looks at you fondly, while trying to sound annoyed. "God, Y/N."
"No, that wasn't it." You actually defend yourself this time, and she sits up straighter, looking at you curiously. "I love you and you love me. Sounds like an easy fix."
"No." Her voice comes as if she is talking to a toddler. "I love you from this universe, and you love me from your universe. We're all different individuals."
"Not that different. You knew I could say the Parent Trap idea, you bought a company for someone you love and I almost killed for someone I love." She only blinks at you in utter disbelief. "Oh, come on. You're still Lena! You're absurdly smart, and beautiful. You call me darling, and laugh when I say something silly. And I am still me, I'm –" You can't find the words to describe yourself.
"You're a bright light everywhere you step in. You're the only one that makes me laugh so hard. You're the most charming person I've ever met, and you have terrible ideas and try to pass them off as good." You laugh when she says that.
"What? I don't –"
"You've been to 15 different Earths just to find a way to make your Lena love you, instead of just talking to her about it."
"Yeah, whatever. Like you're so perfect being filthy rich and buying companies as a form of love." She chuckles again and you stare at her with renewed intent. "Come on, it's not that crazy. We can find out the differences between our counterparts, but I doubt there's anything you've done that would make me stop loving you."
"My scientist mind says this is the craziest thing someone has ever told me."
"But the stupid part that made you fall in love with me, says…"
Lena inhales deep, then lets it all out in one breath. "That I'd die for your kiss."
You've kissed many Lenas from different universes. Short and sweet kisses, big and passionate ones, and completely wrong ones as well. You can help that your heart beats almost out of your chest in anticipation for this one. This Lena, she's so much like the one you fell for, but there's an ineffable quality about her, something more. Without even a kiss, you sense that if she isn't the one for you as well, then no other Lena will ever be.
The office is bathed in a soft, dim light. The last employee left a few minutes ago, leaving you both in an oddly calm, private CatCo. You draw Lena's face close to you, feeling her hold her breath in sync with yours.
"What if this is it?" Lena asks and you realize she has different worries than yours. But you know, regardless of the uncertainty – whether this is going to be it, or not – the only way to have the answer is by kissing her.
The moment seems to stand still, as the question reveals to be the answer itself. Time stretched out so thin through the space between your lips. And you smile to yourself as the gap between you two doesn't feel insurmountable anymore.
Lena closes the distance. It feels impossible to believe that you two haven't known each other all your lives, when the dance of your lips and tongues moves in perfect harmony. The kiss is explosive and urgent, as if it has been in the making for years. Breathless, desperate, and exploratory. It's everything, and it's only the start.
You part your lips, staring at her from so close the only thing you can look at is her glossy eyes. "I'll die." She whispers so close to your mouth you're sharing the same breath. "I'll die a little death if I can't have you again."
The floor seems to open under you, as your heart flies to your mouth beating so fast it's ringing loudly in your ears. And you cease to exist in many universes to just exist right here, in this moment.
This is it. This is love. The love you've been jumping around from one universe to another to find. The love you've been dying to have and you know it. You shared one kiss and you are sure of it.
Lena swallows a tear, a question, a whirlwind of thoughts going through her mind as she kisses you again. Then again. And each kiss becomes more passionate, more certain. It's so right it binds you two deeper and stronger at every lip and tongue and breath shared. It can't be undone.
Lena has a million questions and you know that, can see it in her eyes, and God you have them too. How can you erase your histories? Is it as easy as this? As easy as sharing a kiss so right that defying the boundaries of many universes cease to matter?
But you know, God, you know it's just the start. It's the start of a chain reaction that makes your heart feel alive and complete. It doesn't matter anymore if she is your Lena, because she is the Lena.
"How will this even work?" she whispers against your lips, but deep down, you both know—it will work, it must work. Nothing can stop it now.
"I don't know. God, I don't care." You answer between kisses, your breathless words expressing a certainty that defies logic. "I just know it will."
It's many, many kisses later that you both fall into a less desperate silence, tangled up in each other's arms as if this is the 100th time you've found yourselves in this position. You don't have to talk to know you're both thinking the same thing. How will this work?
"I have an idea." Your eyes widen and you untangle yourself from your place on her chest, so you can look into her eyes.
"Here we go again." She jokes lightly, but you know she trusts this idea will be just as good as the last one.
"I've been to one universe where I didn't exist. I don't know what happened to me there. If I was never born or if I'd died. But you existed and Kara was your best friend, and all of you would work in a Tower, and there was this guy Brainy, instead of Winn… Anyways." You stop your ranting when you realize you're getting a little side tracked. "I'm sure there's one Earth out there where both you and I don't exist. We could just –"
"Go to another world and start fresh. No two of you, no two of me. Just you and I making a name for ourselves." Lena completes and you smile at her, happy she understood exactly where you were going with this.
"I mean, you're stupidly smart and I have powers. Surely we can make a life for ourselves anywhere." You stop yourself when an idea crosses your mind. No, not anywhere. You smile. "And I know just where."
"You would do that?" Lena blinks, her question isn't coming from a place of confusion. She knows you would do exactly that and some more. The question is coming from a place of complete adoration.
"I'm dying to believe that you won't be the death of me." She kisses you one more time to be sure. And it's obvious. Every single time it's even more fated.
"What about everyone else on our Earths? Wouldn't we miss them?"
You show her your ring. "Have a portal –"
"Will travel." She completes it.
Yeah. This one. This one is your Lena.
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Emerald Star ( a s6 off screen Sterek ficlet)
Set after this scene.
As Stiles was finally given some medical attention and they had bandaged up his toe, he had calmed down and was breathing into a paper bag while a medic gave him some pills to help with the pain.
Derek had been asked to complete some formalities with the FBI and was taken away by some agents just moments before.
Stiles limped sitting carefully on the sidewalk by the road icing his toe waiting for Derek.
After a few minutes , Derek handed some papers to the agents before heading over to where Stiles was sitting .
" You're free to go ?" Stiles asked as Derek sat next to him
" Pretty much" Derek said " I see you're no longer screaming in pain, How's your toe?"
" Patched up for now,I'll be fine in a few days " He replied
" That guy said you're free to take a few days to recover before heading back " Derek said pointing at the agent in charge of the field operation.
" Of course he did" Stiles stated " They're worried that if this gets worse, I'd be able to sue them. Although I'm the one who convinced them to take me on the operation, I'm still an intern."
Derek nodded before standing up. " You could benefit from a few days off. Come on" He said reaching his hand out to Stiles who took it before carefully standing up
" You think you can walk? " Derek asked as Stiles handed the ice pack back to the medics
" I think so " Stiles replied trying to walk and wincing in pain
" Alright come on" Derek said putting his arm around his shoulder and one on his hip to help him walk to his jeep.
Derek helped him sit in the passenger seat before heading to the driver side.
" Where are we going?" Stiles enquired as Derek started the jeep
" My motel, it's a little further down from here" Derek stated
" You can drop me off at my motel and keep the jeep for the night " Stiles stated
" You'd better stay with me." Derek stated " For..uhm..your safety, so you don't end up injuring yourself more. "
" Oh, uhm Are you sure ?" Stiles questioned as Derek nodded
" Alright Can you stop by mine first? I gotta grab some of my stuff ." Stiles stated
Derek agreed as they drove in silence, a lingering sense of uncertainty and tension palpable between the two since the last time they had seen each other was when Kate had taken Scott.
Derek had left and decided not to look back at Beacon Hills which had bothered Stiles more than he'd like to admit because no one else seemed as perturbed.
Derek pulled over to Stiles motel and helped him to his room waiting outside as Stiles packed his stuff before checking out.
Derek helped him with his bags before they settled into an uneasy silence while Derek drove towards his motel.
Once they reached his motel, Derek grabbed Stiles's bag and helped him walk up to the room before unlocking it and letting him in.
Stiles walked in and crashed on the tiny couch looking around the room to find only one queen sized bed .
He pursed his lips wondering why Derek had told him to stay here when he had only one bed.
" Do you want to take a shower?" Derek asked
" Huh?" Stiles asked, his thoughts being interrupted.
" Are you going to take a shower or shall I go?" Derek asked grabbing a towel and sweatpants .
" You can go, I'll go after you" Stiles stated as Derek headed into the bathroom
Stiles dug through his bag to find a book to keep him occupied and was interrupted a few minutes later by a shirtless Derek walking through the bathroom door wearing only grey sweatpants with the towel around his neck as he dried his hair
Stiles lowered the book a little raising his eyebrows at the sight in front of him as Derek went to grab a shirt.
" Do you want to go now?" Derek asked wearing a black shirt that, of course clung to his body making Stiles roll his eyes
Does he always buy a size small? Stiles wondered before standing up and slowly grabbing a towel along with a change of clothes before heading to the shower .
" Are you sure it's safe to get your wound wet ?" Derek asked
" I'll just wrap a plastic bag around it, just to be safe " Stiles stated grabbing an empty take out cover he had stuffed in his bag as Derek looked at him questioningly.
" What?" Stiles asked
" Why do you have a plastic bag with you?" Derek asked
" It helps with panic attacks and stuff " Stiles shrugged
" it's not a hygiene thing, I'm very tidy , thank you very much " He snarked slowly limping to the shower
Once he had cleaned himself up, he headed out slowly walking with the plastic cover around his foot.
" You're gonna hurt yourself " Derek stated as Stiles sat on the chair by the side of the bed
" I'll be fine " Stiles stated slowly taking off the cover and placing his foot on the bed
Derek moved over so he was sitting by Stiles's leg before reaching over and holding Stiles's ankle gently putting it on his lap
" What are you-" Stiles asked trying to pull his leg away when Derek tightened his grp on his ankle not letting him move it.
" Calm down" Derek said looking at him " I'm only trying to help"
Stiles watched feeling a little uneasy as Derek's veins turned black and he felt a sense of relief on his injured foot before Derek gently placed it back onto the bed.
" Thank you" Stiles said rubbing the back of his neck nervously
Derek nodded before grabbing a book from his nightstand and moving further away on the bed to read .
Stiles narrowed his eyes looking at him wondering if he should let it go or say something about what was bothering him.
" Uhm, hello? " Stiles said as Derek turned to look at him " What the hell Derek? Where were you all this time and why did you just disappear after you left with Braeden ? "
Derek sighed placing the book down " That's why you've been giving me the silent treatment?"
" What, you knew I was pissed and didn't say anything ?" Stiles asked
" I was trying to give you some time " Derek said " and space "
" Time and space? " Stiles asked " What am I an astronaut?'
Derek rolled his eyes before saying " No , because I could tell something was bothering you, now I know it's cause of me."
" Of course it cause of you!" Stiles called out " Me and everyone else don't hear anything from you for months and the first day of my FBI internship you showed up on my screen as a mass murderer!"
" Why does it matter to you?" Derek asked
" Because it does, it just does." Stiles said " First you leave and don't look back , now you're getting caught up in this ?"
" I'm sorry, if I I recall correctly, you told me to have a safe journey and to enjoy when I told you I was leaving " Derek said shifting so he was sitting on the edge of the bed opposite to Stiles.
" Of course I did, you were leaving, did you want me to throw you a going away party?" Stiles quipped
" No, but when I told you I was leaving, that's all you said, then why is it bothering you so much now ?" Derek asked
" Because it does !" Stiles called out "Why is it so hard to believe that someone could actually care for you?"
"Because it didn't seem like it" Derek replied " If you cared, then maybe you should've said something more than have a safe journey. " Derek said furrowing his brows
" Like what ? What could I have possibly said to make you change your mind ?" Stiles asked throwing his hands up in defeat .
" You could've asked me to stay. " Derek sighed as he looked away
Stiles scoffed " Yeah like that would've made a difference "
" It would. " Derek said " I would've stayed if you had asked me to...but you didn't "
Stiles blinked in surprise at what he heard before leaning forward and resting his hand on his knee
" Derek I wanted nothing more than to have you stay" Stiles stated as Derek finally turned to look at him " But not because I asked you to...but because you want to."
" Beacon Hills was just a reminder for you of everything you lost, I know it got hard for you to stay and pretend like everything was fine.." Stiles shrugged " I'm not going to be selfish and ask you to stick around for my sake....not when you're unhappy. "
Derek took a deep breath shaking his head " I'm sorry I didn't call, I thought of it a lot but... decided not to because I thought it didn't matter to you."
" After everything we've been through, you still don't think I care ?" Stiles asked raising his eyebrows
Derek sighed, his gaze dropping to the floor, unable to meet Stiles' eyes. "I guess I was wrong."
They remained quiet , the weight of unspoken words hung heavy in the air, before Derek decided to break the silence by getting up to grab a pillow and heading to the sofa.
"I'll take the couch" Derek said and just when Stiles was about to protest,
"Stiles, You're clearly tired and need a good nights sleep more than me" Derek stated "Let's not argue about this."
Stiles agreed quietly before settling into the bed as Derek turned off the light.
Despite the words left unsaid, their shared history and the bond they shared spoke volumes, echoing through the silence that stretched between them.
(Part.1) / (Part.2) / (Part.3) /(Part.4) /(Part.5)
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✨Bionicle crab !✨
It was, originally, meant to be just another arthropod. However, someone reblogged my previous rahi, along with this comment :
Well, guess what ? Yes, absolutely. I’m glad I saw it because it gave me the inspiration for this monstrosity (and it made me laugh more than I would admit, too). Thanks.
I must recognise that if I compare my rahis, there is a clear pipeline. I don’t think it can go much further in this direction.
Anyways, details/closeups/weird illegal technic I just found out, below the cut !
Front (smol Visorak for scale) :
Because it’s really big. It’s also a good excuse to show off my really fancy and glittery Kanohi. No clue where it comes from but it’s beautiful !
I’m really happy with how mean this things looks, overall. It’s most definitely the bad guy for Toas to fight. It has a really good scale to work with my larger customer Toas [here], but it could also act as a really large rahi for my smaller space-based Toas [here]. Why a large crab stealing Kanohis in space, you may ask ? No idea. I’d have to actually think out a lore for that.
I started the conception with the frame (which does make sense, in theory), then the legs, and finally the shell. This was only partially smart, because that meant I did not account for the shell's mass when building the legs. Essentially, this poor thing can't stand on it's own, so I'm using two technic bars underneath to keep it up right (which are hidden in editing, of course).
Top/Hind (shell) :
I think the shell was pretty decent. I tried to use as little pieces as possible to keep it light, but it's still a lot. Among these pieces can be found one Visorak claw and three Mantax feet, which have a nice texture for organic feet. There is also another foot at the front which comes from an Inika set which I can't seem to find. I'm also using some of these large technic panels, which cover a lot of surface without being too much of a pain to set up (still quite a lot, since they're connected to the feet at at an angle, feet which which are also connected to the frame at an odd angle...) Speaking of Mantax, I alsu used the black-pearl shells, because these, too, have a really organic vibe, and it gave a small touch of pearl which was missing on the body.
I tried to keep the back relatively slick, to avoid something similar to an abdomen since it's not a spider. Still I had to extend it a little bit using the rounded cubical cover, to hide some socket joints, but it's okay-ish.
Neath :
Truly a mess, I must admit. As I started with each side separately, I tried to somehow connect them with the large grey technic frame (in the middle). On either sides, I have a whole bunch of axle connectors, both standard and angled, which allow for the thing to appear rounder than it could have been. The two leg sockets peices at the front are used for the eyes, and the pieces abov (barley visible) is a classic Bionicle shoulders piece clipped backward as a base for the pincers arms.
Pincer :
Or mandatory unusual feet usage. These really works well as any kind of claw or armor, in my opinion. The black arm pieces used here (Hordika leg piece) were particularly good for the job as they technic pin holes in there allowed me to add ad additional socket practically at the same level at the original one (even if I would rather have used black technic bars instead of the light grey ones, but i couldn't find any in my supplies... It's likely the Space station's fault.
Legs :
Or equally mandatory foot out of not foot pieces. Here is a cursed homebrew way to make legs : one Bohrok head part (bricklink call these shoulders ?) to display the piston-like element and serve as structure, linked with Toa Metru legs (which slots above nicely.
And then comes the magic trick, for the Rahkshi shells (silveragain, because I have many of these) have a small attachment point toward the end, that is meant to hold the back blades in place; but it also perfectly fits right on the small ledge in the middle of the leg piece ! Granted, it's not a very secure connection, but these two pieces don't need anything else but that to hold. I actually loved this one so much, you can notice two additional Rahkshi shells held similarly on the tope of the crab's shell.
In order to connect the legs individually to the frame, I am using Vahki legs for the exterior limbs, and Pihraka arms for the central ones (these arms have the particular property of having the restrictive sockets on either sides, which makes it good to keep the leg's shape.
The middle sections are made using two simple axle-socket pieces connected by old plates, usually found in technic sets predating the Bionicle them.
…And obviously, I had to make another makeshift studio (I actually really like this one). Have a look at all these terribly assembled elements !
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I’d been thinking of starting watching Doctor Who to continue my David Tennant media run after watching Takin’ Over the Asylum (and Good Omens of course) but needed the mental push to start something new.
I had a particularly horrible evening with my disability thanks to people being Absolute Freaks and Weirdos towards me, which kinda sent me spiraling about living with a very visible disability and man sometimes it really just fucking sucks and I can’t do anything about it. Etc.
So even though David doesn’t come on as the Doctor until season two, i decided to start there since I needed a comfort character, and then I’d go back to season 1 later.
Well halfway into s2ep1 David goes on his spiel about all the people who were born sick and who deserve better than to be used as “flesh” for finding cures for humans. I mean, they eventually get healed, but as someone who has spent their entire life wrapped into the medical model of disability, the poster child for finding a cure for my condition, my fucking god did that scene make me cry.
Because David, the way he is, even as an actor, apparently serendipitously always has the right thing to say.
#David Tennant#doctor who#tenth doctor#disability#disabled#actually disabled#I’m still pissed off and raging and mad at my body but this was a brief respite#I think it makes more sense in my head but my point still stands#it’s late and I’m tired#but to hear that I am more than just a body made to help find a cure?#goddamn.#you’re so right#leave disabled people alone you absolute freaks#also for cassandra to take over his body right after that so he’s immediately playing another genderfucked character#yes PLEASE and thank you
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I LOVE HOW YOU TAG PARAGRAPHS THEYRE FUN TO READ!! /gen
Thank you!!! I love to ramble!!!
#i'm so wordy. i am SO wordy. i never ever fail at a minimum word requirement#but oh god the second my uni says no MORE than 2000 words i freak out. what do you mean no more than 2000 words. does less than 2000 words#and tumblr not yelling at me about tag length even exist?#is it possible to not type out an entire paragraph when i have even a single thought? do people really go around with one word sentences in#side their heads all day? do you see a cool thing and go oh cool thing! and move on#instead of oh cool thing! this reminds me of my very specific brainrot!#which is to say chronic inability to shut the fuck up#so i'm glad. you are entertained lmao#that's all i intend! i'm literally blogging tumblr is a blogging platform. the point is to put my thoughts out there! throw them out! into#the void! the dark abyss (i use the goth rave dashboard theme so this is literal) and hope#just hope i get like a call back. a little nod. and i got one <3 thank you <3#also (genuinely) i'm assuming /gen means /genuine but like it could also mean /general or some kind of acronym like pos (piece of shit) so.#am i right? im not. up to date. the last time#i paid attention to txt spk and it's ilk was like 2015#i make assumptions but i am Often Wrong (i still don't know what tfw stands for my brain just goes 'time for when' and it's like 'yeah that#sounds legit' and i'm like 'what the fuck are you talking about? time for when? that doesn't even make sense.#why do you think that sounds legit?'#but i'm asking myself that question so i dont' get an aswer. ah well#you can tell i should be sleeping rn. i get even more verbose and use words like ilk when i'm tired. hence: sleep time now yes.#but again; for real all jokes and minor japes aside: thanks! i'm glad i'm really not just shouting into the void for nobody to hear here.
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‘satoru hates arguments. even more so when your conflicts cause your baby daughter to be upset as well.’
☀︎｜tags. (girl) dad!gojo satoru x female reader. fluff, angst, comfort. mention of arguments between parents. comfort & happy ending, though!
satoru hates having arguments with you. he hates it whenever an argument turns into the silent treatment. he apologises and apologises — yet nothing helps to change your mood sometimes.
ever since you got married and had your daughter, you were a bit more sensitive to the smallest of things than usual. it wasn’t like satoru despised you for it; in fact, he understands that motherhood was and is stressful. that man was nothing but supportive to you.
though, your little arguments were indirectly having an impact on the mental state of your baby. you didn’t even know an one year old could sense the tension between her parents.
“mama, mama!” your daughter appears out of nowhere, waddling over to you standing in the kitchen. she had barely just learnt how to walk. her tiny hand reaches for yours and she points at the doorway with her other, “go, mama, go.”
you curiously let your little girl lead you towards where she was pointing at, only to arrive at the living room. satoru was sitting on the couch, idly staring at the ceiling, other hand fiddling with one of your daughter’s toys. he seemed deep in thought. even exhausted and clearly not his playful self.
“mama, go! mama go papa.”
satoru’s head turns to the side at the cute sound of his favourite little girl. he smiles brightly at her return to the living room, only for his smile to fade just for a second at the sight of you next to her. he isn’t mad at you—more like sad that you still seemed upset with him.
your daughter tugs at your index finger. she apparently wants you to go to her dad—wants you to interact or talk with him. her big eyes were staring up at you with a pleading look in them.
you were in a dilemma. of course, you wanted to put your daughter’s mind at ease. you could just fake interact with satoru—or actually just make it up—but there was still a small part of you that needed time alone. you weren’t yet mentally ready for another confrontation. you needed time to think it out.
however, part of you also knows that your earlier argument was kind of silly. you don’t even fully remember what it was about, that’s how irrelevant it was to your brain.
“c’mon, pumpkin. ‘tis not nice for you to bother mama while she’s cooking.” satoru’s soft voice startles you back to reality. he had already gotten up and crouched down to pick your daughter up in his arms, kissing her chubby cheeks to distract her; “mama’s busy, ‘kay? let’s go play with papa.”
even satoru knew that your argument had caused your little girl to feel some kind of stress. she didn’t fully comprehend the situation, though she was clearly uncomfortable by the fact that her parents were not acting nice and lovey dovey like they usually would.
“no, papa. mama!” the baby whines and points at you and then at satoru, her little legs kicking. it absolutely broke satoru’s heart — shattered it into pieces. oh, how he wishes to never fight with you again. the sight of his little bundle of joy trying to mend things between you two with all she could was simply too much.
satoru looks down at you and notices the way you look at your one year old as well. the same way he did; with guilt and sadness. he sighs softly and without further thought, wraps his free arm around your shoulders and brings you close to his body.
“c’mere,” satoru murmurs as he holds both your daughter and you to his chest, “let me hold my two girls, yeah? may i, sweetheart? please.”
your husband asks for your consent. if you were okay with this—even when he needs it desperately, to hold you again in his arms and to make it right to you—your comfort comes first. if you weren’t ready yet to make up, he’d let you go. even if it’d hurt him immensely.
you don’t answer with your words and instead let your actions do the talking. you wrap one arm around satoru’s torso, the other cradling your daughter closer to both you and him.
it was like nothing mattered anymore in that moment, except for your little family. your worries, stress and anxiety about everything and anything had vanished into thin air as you felt the embrace of the two people you held dear.
your daughter finally giggles—a sound satoru and you had greatly missed. you close your eyes and just rest against your husband’s body.
“mama papa, wuv!” the little girl squeals in happiness as she excitedly babbles on, causing both satoru and you to laugh as well. the white-haired sorcerer leaves a big peck on the baby’s forehead before doing the same to you.
“mhm, papa loves mama veeery much.” satoru hums and kisses your forehead again, solely because he missed being affectionate to you, “papa loves his sweet little angel too.”
you can’t help but chuckle along with your one year old—who seemed to be extremely content in her parents’ loving embrace again. this is how it always should be.
“mama also loves papa very much.” you reply, causing your husband to regain his usual big grin. he finally got what he longed for; to have you look and talk to him with love. your silence may have lasted only a few hours, but it felt like it had been a couple cruel months to the sorcerer.
your eyes meet his again and all was well. you smile at him and he smiles back before leaning in to kiss you gently on the lips. satoru’s arm that was draped over your shoulder moves down to curl around your lower back, pulling you as close to him as your bodies would allow.
he pulls back after a few seconds and just lovingly stares at your face again—eyes holding an affection only you had ever been able to witness. your eyes told the same story; nothing could separate you two. ever.
“waaaaah! mama papa, me, me!”
the romantic air between you two suddenly gets interrupted by your daughter’s excited demands. she was demanding kisses as well, puffing her cheeks up as she got ready for it.
“ohh? seems like our angel wants some kisses too.” satoru laughs and nods his head at the baby in his other arm whilst looking at you, “shall we?”
you giggle and nod back—not able to refuse your little girl any longer.
it was not long before the living room fills with the sounds of your child’s laughter, which was caused by the continuous kisses and tickles she was receiving from both satoru and you.
#sttoru writes.#jjk x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#jjk fluff#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#gojo x you#gojo satoru x you#gojo x y/n#jjk x female reader#jjk fanfic
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gyro wants me dead argopro wants me dead everyone wants me dead. can't take this shit anymore
#skittles.txt#I DON'T WANNA TAG ALL OF THEM . do I give them a joint tag. What on earth do I make it tho#it’s hard bc my dynamic with gyro is nayuta is my brother and I kiss all 4 of his bandmates. like how do u make a joint tag for that#wtvr that’s BESIDES the point.#the point is the symbolism killed me. idk if I’m strong enough to explain rn#THERES ALSO. A CLIP IN THE MV SHOWING NAYUTAS CHILDHOOD LIKE A TINY BIT. GIRL#it was umm. well. that is a topic for a different post#I’m not even kidding when I say I was gonna write an essay about nayuta for college but then I dropped out#I might write smth about him anyway tho. I’d love to say I get him on a deep level however I don’t rly. I’m learning tho#I don’t know everything about him to the point I can joke about no one getting him like I can however#he means so so much to me and I think about him extremely often and that alone slowly makes me understand him better#bc I’m constantly doing a deep dive of his character in my head and learning new things just from thinking about him#does that make sense. look me in the eyes does that make sense .#I love all my familial f/os so much but I don’t think I’ve had this much of a connection to one since like. samatoki a few years back#samatoki might still be more tho idk just dormant bc I don’t pay attention to hypm*c anymore. off topic#point is I love nayuta :3 he wouldn’t be able to stand my ass. I’m his special little guy tho /p so it’s ok#f:nayuta#<- I’m at least tagging him since I’m explicitly talking abt him#in the tags anyway
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Sometimes the name doesn't matter
synopsis: sometimes it matters that you are his wife. PART 2
pairings: Capitano, Kaveh, Tighnari, Zhongli x fem!reader (separately)
tw: fluff, established relationship, hurt/comfort; hybrids, unwelcomed courting, kind of female objectification (all in Tighnari's part)
word count: 6.9k+ words
a/n: part 1 can be read here!
Capitano
Fast elegant fingers of a pianist run across the keys of black and white and the violins in the hands of other musicians are there to serve together with the chorus of beautiful voices, selected by Lady Columbina personally. The music infiltrates the souls of the nobles present, filling them with the sense of grandeur and glory, touching even their harsh unfeeling hearts.
The atmosphere of the gathering is gratifying, would’ve even been endearing if not for the stately figures of the Harbingers standing on both sides of the throne, where the Tsaritsa would've been seated had she not decided to refrain from attending it altogether. She has more important matters to take care of, and nine of her most loyal servants can definitely fill in her place on that yearly event.
Sure, this year it is more important since the two Harbingers are missing and the seats stay vacant - it's been the talk of the nation. Who is going to be nominated? Can it be influenced? Will they claim the names today?
Is the mysterious Commander, whose arrival became the topic of multiple speculations, be the one? A fierce warrior many heard of, but almost none saw face to face. The man was believed to be as powerful as the 11th Harbinger or maybe even the 10th! Having an army and an establishment of his own on the farthest line of the Snezhnayan border, he still is under the command of Lord Capitano, which makes it even harder to fish any more information than what is already known to the public.
"I only heard about him. He and his troops are protecting our borders from the monster's invasion in the North."
"Ew, who would've wanted to live in the North! It's much harsher than all the Snezhnaya."
"Shush, the Commander is wealthy and respectful, you can bear some cold."
"What do you imply?"
"The Commander is unmarried, there is no way he isn't, not with a life like this. But it can always be changed, and the woman he takes as wife would be one of the luckiest ones!"
"You are right… Maybe he is actually handsome. Maybe he'd be even willing to buy a whole mansion for his promised one and not take her with him to that awful place. Maybe…"
Maybe, maybe, maybe. It travels through the crowds like a storm in its wake, eventually reaching the Harbingers, who, for the first time after appearing and greeting the already arrived, stop resembling the statues. Eyes shift among the people and each other; some gazes hold interest, some - annoyance. Only Pantalone has an ever present smile on his face, fingers clasped in front of him and sapphire rings sparkle in the ballroom light.
"Looks like Capitano's estimated soldier caught everyone's attention. My, my, how curious and nosy the people can be…"
"I understand the curiosity though," admits Childe, arms crossed to prevent laying even a finger on his blade, that is resting on his hip. "This person sounds like an interesting specimen… I've heard of his talents in both strategy and tactics, and it seems like his strength is a legend. I'd love to spar with him."
"Oh you, thinking only about fights, young man," Pulcinella disapprovingly shakes his head and raises his cane to point in the gingerhead's direction. "I highly doubt our guest will have time to spare, considering the period of time concerning the stay that was mentioned in the letter we received."
"And I believe the majority of that time would be spent with Il Capitano, isn't it right?" Columbina's soft voice must be drowning in the music, but everyone hears her loud and clear.
"..." The Harbinger stays silent and nothing can be read from his body language since he is the only one remaining still in his place, his huge looming figure resembling one of the full-set armor nobles like putting in their halls as a part of interior. Except this one isn't empty.
"So much potential to become my test subject, to be perfected... Yet lost to the lands of Northern regions," Dottore huffs in disappointment, his sharp teeth peaking when he clicks his tongue. "Say, Pierro, can't things be rearranged? I'd happily have our dear border protector as my underling."
The silence between the nine suddenly becomes thick. There is something indescribably tense in the air and only Childe can't understand why some of his colleagues seem to be more interested in how the Captain would react and not the 1st of the Harbingers..
"You know why this can't be rearranged, Dottore," the stare of an icy blue eye would pin everyone to the ground, destroying their will and order to obey, though doing little to scare the Doctor. "And it was favored by the Tsaritsa herself."
The finality of the short statement makes the scientist back down from the proposition he's been bringing up every time the topic touches the Commander, yet ending up the same way as always - with an ultimate rejection.
Three heavy thuds make everyone in the room fall silent. Many heads turn to look at the ceremonial staff hitting the floor the last time and staying still in the hand of a tall, thoroughly dressed man.
"The protector of the Northern border, the glorified and esteemed warrior of Her Majesty Tsaritsa, The Commander has arrived," the master's of ceremonies voice carries like a thunderclap, cutting off the quite leisurely music the orchestra was playing for the dances and entertainment.
The rustle of note sheets is fleeting and not a moment later the musicians straighten in their seats, taking a deep breath. Trumpets boom in a spacious room and make nobles shiver in surprise, some especially susceptible women even lean on their partners for support. The choir and the violins join the triumphant song the brass instruments sing, signaling that the time has come.
Everyone holds their breath as the tall heavy doors leading to the ballroom are being pulled open. Everyone has their gaze glued to a slowly growing gap. Everyone keeps their eyes wide open, afraid that even one blink can cost them missing the legendary sight.
Everyone gasps.
The tall figure enters, posture straight and shoulders squared, confidence evident in every step. Black satin clothes are adorned with golden chains and intricate patterns. The white military coat stayed resting on the shoulders - showing off the position, the closeness to the Harbingers. And then there is the face - a scar crossing the left brow, calm bored eyes, not sparing anyone a glance, which do not fit the other female features of your face.
Yes, the Commander happens to be a woman.
Stopping by the steps leading to the throne, you bow - not kneel, bow, - holding your open palm by the heart and respectfully closing your eyes. Music stops.
“Greetings, my lords. Let Tsaritsa bless you and your mission.”
“Let Tsaritsa bless you and your service to her,” Pierro says, raising his hand. “Lift your head,” which you do, looking him right in the eyes, yet still holding your hand by the chest. “There is time for duties and there is time for entertainment. And tonight, given your rare visits to the capital, I suggest you enjoy the latter.”
“Much obliged, Lord Pierro.”
And with a wave of the older man’s hand, the orchestra starts a new composition, waking up the ones who were in a daze, reminding others they are here for drama.
And the first one to take action is the 11th Harbinger.
“Commander, Sir- I mean, Lady?” The gingerhead is the closest to you out of all his colleagues, having only to descend a few steps to be on your level. “I’ve heard a lot about you, many admirable things. How do you look at sparring?”
“Right in the middle of a ballroom? Quite positively, young man,” your lips twist in a half-smirk, baring a sharp pearly canine. “But I believe the nobles have already had enough shock to take and rumors to create. Maybe another time. Haven’t seen you before though. Are you new?”
“Tartaglia, the Eleventh Harbinger, Lady Commander.”
“Ma’am would be enough,” you click your tongue, glancing behind and noticing how slowly, but surely some of the aristocrats are inching towards you, clearly interested in conversation, Well, you are not. “On second thought, starting a duel right now and here doesn’t sound like a bad idea…”
“I’ve always known you are quite insane,” Arlechino butts her way in the conversation, giving you only a small nod as a greeting. You simply glance at her.
“For years I’ve been hearing of my insanity, think of something new,”
“How about, ‘the one who knows no limits’?” Pantalone’s smile is as dazzling as it’s fake and sometimes your hands are itching to strangle the man. Maybe even go all the way out and bite his head off. Literally.
“The only ones who know no limits are the wind and the stupidity. I’m neither. Who I am though,” your gaze travels higher, to the steps closest to the Tsaritsa’s throne, to there Pierro and the first three Harbingers are standing, “is a wife. And I’d like to have a dance with my husband.”
Not many heard your words, but the ones who did, gasp loudly, staring at you with wide eyes. Which get even wider when Il Capitano, a seemingly motionless statue before, turns in his place and, without a pause, steadily descends to you. Now, as you are standing so closely it becomes evident how obviously your outfits match. The chains, the patterns, even the precious stones - everything. Perhaps it is terrifyingly cute. Perhaps it's cutely terrifying.
“Husband,” your smile again, offering him your hand, which he immediately envelopes in his big clawed one.
“Wife,” is the first word the big figure rumbles for the evening, the void of its helmet staring at you. And that’s all you speak to each other, hearing the beginning of another melody and turning to join the dancing pairs.
“...What was that?” Childe voices what’s been plaguing the minds of the attendees. “First the Commander appears to be a woman, and now she is married to the Lord Il Capitano?” He glances at Pulcinella, who joins his side and decides to watch the pair that caused a commotion have their fun. “Do they not use their names?”
“They find no sense in them,” the Rooster answers just the last question. “And,” he lowers his voice and the ginger has to bend down to hear the next words, “I didn’t tell you that, but the Captain really loves calling her his wife. So be quite cautious while seeking a fight with her. You might end up impaled. By either of them.”
Kaveh
With a soft smile you watch a group of children merrily leaving their classroom, interrupting each other in attempts to tell everyone how exciting the lesson was. They do not forget to grin and wave at you, passing by, and you return the sentiment, contently observing their happy faces and sparkly eyes.
Every time this happens, a strange sense of fulfillment overtakes you - supporting and sponsoring Kaveh was one of the best decisions you’ve ever made. The greatest architect of nowadays is offering his guidance to the young generation, teaching them everything about beauty and practicality, helping them to develop their own creative vision, and at the same time boosting the confidence of kids of all ages. And you couldn’t be prouder of him.
Him, who meticulously prepares for every single lesson. Him, who is oh-so-gentle with his words and precise in his speech. Him, who teaches both Sumeru citizens and people coming from abroad. Him, who is as passionate about it, as he is about his designing job, telling you every single detail of how the lessons went on your way home or over the dinner. Him, who is happy and who makes you happy too with that fact alone.
When the last kid leaves, marking the ending of the final class for today, you glance at the clock. Now Mister Meticulousness will need half an hour to tidy up the classroom and put all the tools away. Tomorrow is free from classes at his (he always corrects your as in the both of you) school, so you can collect your stuff as well - after all, being the manager of this establishment and Kaveh specifically requires your presence. You can be strict and unyielding whenever he can’t and this partnership proves to be successful every day.
Just as you are writing down some financial staff, there is a soft knock on the doorframe. Immediately lifting your eyes you hum, observing a very good-looking woman and a boy, shyly holding onto her hand.
“Hello, how can I help you?” With a quill laid on top of your accounting book, you stand and round the table, offering the two to step closer.
“Ah, hello, miss…” eyes with long, pretty lashes flit to the name tag attached to your clothes, “...Y/n. This is master Kaveh’s artistic school, am I correct?”
“Yes, you are. Are you here to sign your boy up for a class?” You offer her son a sweet smile and he answers you with a small lift of his lips.
“Mhm. You see, he is a big fan of master Kaveh and his works - can study the pictures of his designs taken by Kamera day and night.”
At that, the boy lowers his gaze and blushes a little, digging a hole in the ground with the tip of his shoe.
“Oh, really?” A gasp that escapes your chest is one of excitement. “That’s marvelous! I am sure your hopefully soon-to-be-teacher will be very interested in hearing your opinion of his works, young connoisseur,” he giggles, lifting his eyes at you again, and there you see undisguised delight. “Oh, but my bad, I didn’t ask your names…”
The woman’s lips bare two rows of perfectly white teeth as she smiles at you, introducing herself and her son.
“We are from Fontaine actually. But my parents wanted to spend some indefinite period of time in Sumeru for their health and we decided to join them. So while we are here, I thought I’d make my son’s dream come true.”
“That’s so nice of you,” you can’t help but admire her a little for that. “I can tell you first a little about our school, you’ll ask all the questions you need to, and then I’ll show you around. Kaveh should be done with cleaning by then, so there’s a big chance you’ll even talk to him personally.”
“Really!?” That’s the first time throughout your entire interaction when the boy opens his mouth and actually makes a sound. “Master Kaveh is here right now?”
“He is. But can’t promise a long conversation - there are still blueprints waiting for him back at home.
“Ah, right… He is the great architect after all,” the woman hums, staring to the side as if in thought. “Between the commissions he takes and this school he must be making good money. Not to mention so handsome…”
Oh… What a familiar tone, what a familiar look in those eyes. Suddenly that ounce of respect you felt for her disappears.
“Money is irrelevant to him as long as he reaches his goal,” is your restrained response.
“Ah, of course! Handsome, sweet, kind, good with kids and is not a snob. Sweety, you ought to charm him for me!” She pinches her son’s cheek. “Imagine Master Kaveh as your daddy!”
Oh Archons, again?
There is absolutely no doubt that the light of Kshahrewar is not only well-known and popular among kids, but is thirsted after by women. In a half of a year your school has been existing, there were numerous times when moms of little students made comments alike or some single females trying to schedule private sessions with the architect. What a sagacious decision it was to make group studying only, it saves you some drama, once the legal document is shown. Though there are exceptionally persistent examples…
But this time you pity the kid a little, because he genuinely seems to admire Kaveh. And his next words make you internally cheer for the little guy.
“Master Kaveh as my dad? But mom, I have a dad already,” the boy pouts, rubbing at the pinched cheek. You notice a red mark and two little crescent moons that her nails left on a tender skin. “I love him and don’t need another one.”
“Sweety, you just don’t understand how great it would be to have such a dad! Just trust my word-”
“Ahem, Madame, I kindly ask you to deal with your family affairs once you are out of here. As for the school - I am open for discussion.”
The displeased way she glances at you doesn’t go unnoticed, but you do not show it anyhow, calmly staring back at her, while your hand reaches up to your chest. As if finally remembering her initial reason for coming here with her son, the woman sighs and puts a palm on the boy’s shoulder.
“Of course, miss- I’m sorry I forgot your name…” And her eyes flit to the name tag again.
Momentarily the woman squints from the light reflecting on the metal, and when she blinks the bright spots away, there is a beautiful golden ring on your hand. The hand that is holding the flipped tiny plate with just two words engraved in it.
"Kaveh's wife"
With widened eyes she stares back at your sweetly polite smile. Not saying a word as if letting the notion sink in, you walk to the wall. Grabbing the backs of two chairs you drag them to your table so they could sit, and take your rightful place in front of them.
“If you are here for something aside from or instead of signing your son up for classes, I believe my name should be irrelevant to you. My status though,” you knock a nail twice on the badge, “must. So… what are you here for, Madame?”
The boy climbs onto his chair right away, while his mother tarries a little, still shocked by the revealed fact and your suddenly changed demeanor. She needs a couple more seconds to compose herself, but eventually she too sits down.
Despite what happened earlier, your conversation proves to be fruitful and fifteen minutes later you are showing around the school, sharing some additional information and answering every single of the kid’s questions.
When in the last room you find your husband, closing Mehrak and looking ready to leave, the boy lets out a gasp. The sound attracts the man’s attention, and he turns to the three of you with a soft smile.
“Oh, hello there, little guy!” The blond waves at him, breaking the blissful stupor of a child that immediately turns red and hides behind his mother. Surprised, Kaveh looks at you for explanation but, instead, takes notice of your name’s replacement. Oh wow, this again. What was the last time you did that? Two weeks ago?
“Ah, Master Kaveh!” The woman charmingly smiles, batting her lashes at him, which would’ve made you cringe had it never happened before. “You see, my son-”
“Pardon me, Madame, give me a moment,” the male softly interrupts her and reaches for a similar metal plate on his chest with his own name to flip it. It’s almost comical how sour the temptress’s face got in a second.
And there is what for. Now two words are proudly matching yours, engraved in an equally beautiful cursive to remind the world who the two of you become once stripped of your names.
Just his ”Y/n’s husband” to your “Kaveh’s wife”.
And like that one more kid takes part in your lovely school and one suitor less is after one of its founders.
Tighnari
With each passing day of your team’s research in the desert you found it harder and harder to control yourself. Some days you were even on the verge of clawing and biting, tail and ears twitching in annoyance and pupils turning into wild slits, making your hybrid nature more obvious.
Was it because of the research? No, it couldn’t be farther - your colleagues have been making so much progress, heeding your advice and following your lead. Was it the location perhaps? A little, but you learnt how to deal with heat and dryness. Was the process taking too much time? On the contrary, you are on your way home already, having finished the job 4 days earlier than you estimated in the beginning.
Then what on earth could possibly trigger you like this?
Well…
“Hey, forest foxy, want me to catch the Consecrated Flying Serpent for you?”
Ah yes, him.
Never again will you trust the higher ups at the Akademiya to sponsor your team with the bodyguards. Out of every possible candidate, your Herbad-titled colleague concluded that hiring five descendants of Valuka Shuna would be a marvelous idea.
“They are the desert kind - they’ll be good guides.” “Look how much stronger they are, they’ll definitely protect all of you.” “They are of the same kind as you, Y/n. Don’t you think it’ll be easier for you, as the leader, to have someone akin with you?”
No, it absolutely would not!
Desert fennec hybrids are different from the forest ones - and it’s not even the case of your green and their sandy brown fur or their more brutal physique against your more delicate one. It’s their character and world perception. You’ll never call them barbarians, but they really developed more of the animal nature than your kind did.
And from day one it was a pain in the butt.
One of your five new bodyguards was clearly the leader - he was bigger and broodier, with more scars littering his body, and his whole stance was screaming of a higher position. When you were introduced for the first time, something lit up in his grayish eyes, which were looking you over appreciatively. You ignored that, more focused on the discussion of the upcoming expedition and making sure the five were aware of what was required of them.
Luckily they were, and, admittedly, they did fulfill their task meticulously, proving to be great help. If only one of them wasn’t so diligent.
You lost count of how many times the leader tried to get into your personal space and you had to move away. Of the numerous invitations to hunt together. Of the endless displays of his strength and abilities. Of the many conversations you didn’t even try to eavesdrop on (they talked pretty loudly) around the topic of when will your shell be cracked and you’d accept the male’s courting attempts.
The answer was obvious, but he just never got it. Even when you called him for a serious conversation on the turning-into-an-issue matter.
“With all respect I must ask you to stop with whatever you’ve been doing to woo me. I have a husband.”
You still remember how he blinked at you dumbly, clear lack of understanding written on the sun-kissed face.
“...and?”
“The heck do you mean ‘and’?”
“Well, you don’t have a mate?”
It was your turn to stare at him speechless, ear twitching and tail curling closer to your legs. It was getting worse than just ridiculous.
“If we are speaking in such terms, then my husband is my mate. So, please-”
You nearly gasped when the male immediately leant closely, violating your personal space and practically stuffing his nose against your neck. Shocked by such lack of shame, you lost the ability to talk or move for a moment, gaping at him sniffing around and humming upon the discovery.
“You don’t wear anyone’s smell on you.”
You were not proud of yourself at that moment, but you absolutely lost it. Sharpened claws dug into his chest and with an angry snarl you pushed him back.
“Get away from me!”
You must’ve been a sight - canines bared and fingers twitching, ready to attack; fur standing on both your ears and tail, signaling your distress and eyes slitted in pure rage while directed at the man in front of you. The worst part? The idiot seemed to like it even more.
“What me and my partner do must be of no concern to you. I told you ‘no’ and I mean it.”
But bold of you was to assume he’d stop. Oh no, it’s gotten worse. Now he was actively calling you a ‘forest foxy’, absolutely abandoning your name and even trying to scent you. It was suffocating - the desert aridity was lighter in comparison to the male hybrid’s pheromones.
Never in all your academic practice have you wanted to return home so badly.
Fortunately, your colleagues quickly caught on to what was going on and always helped you to escape the unwanted interactions. Plus they were equally as mad as you were, because his individual scent irritated their human noses - and that was the main reason why you and Tighnari, both spending a lot of time around other people, did not practice it. Partly, you are sure, this whole situation was the reason for your earlier return - and you were grateful for their understanding.
However, your stubborn suitor did not dream of giving up. Killed desert animals were still offered to you, stories of his legendary battles with monsters were told for the hundredth time (even though no one was interested in listening at that point) and attempts to lure you with the musky smell once again made. Archons, and the green-furred fennec girls from your teens used to dream of that.
Maybe Lesser Lord Kusanali would be merciful and you’ll meet your husband somewhere on your way?
“Herbad Y/n!”
…wow, that was quick. Not Tighnari, but incredibly welcome too.
“Collei!” For the first time in days there is a reason for your soft smile. Which the young girl mirrors, waving at you from not so far away. You notice a couple more of the Forest Rangers at her side, and that sight alone makes you finally exhale in relief. You are so close to being home.
“Master is here too! Want me to get him?”
Oh, Dendro Archon, thank you.
“I’d really appreciate it, dear!” With a quick nod the green-haired apprentice disappears in the bushes, and you turn back to the scholars of your group. It’s time to abuse your power a little. “We are almost at the Devadaha Pool. Since all of you live in Sumeru City I hope you’ll excuse me for staying behind. As for you five,” your gaze moves to the bodyguards and it’s so hard not to rejoice - soon they’ll be just a memory, “I ask you to accompany the rest of my team to the Akademiya. Then you can consider your job done and be free. Keep the payment for the last three days that didn’t happen - think of it as a bonus for a good job.”
All but one eagerly nod and bid you farewell with wishes of getting home safely. And frankly speaking? You couldn’t care less for that one when you spot familiar and oh so dear big pointy ears with an intricate golden earring adorning one of them.
“Tighnari!” You didn’t want to sound so desperate, you really didn’t. But when those forest-like lovely eyes look in your direction, it becomes clear to you - the yearning has gotten unbearable.
“Y/n…” His smile is dazzling and the way his body immediately pushes to walk to you almost makes the memories of the last weeks’ events go away.
The key word - almost.
Someone grabs your elbow when you want to meet him halfway. Oh right, you already forgot about him.
“Let me go, you, imbecile!” And again you have to snarl and be rude, ripping your arm out of the strong hold and quickly darting into your husband’s embrace. The natural smell of the leaves, the flowers, the sweet and bitter concoctions he makes in his home laboratory, comfort you and your whole body goes nearly limp in his hold. It’s been weeks and you are tired of fighting with the brick wall - this time you want your lover to handle it for you.
“Y/n, my lotus, are you alright?” Gentle fingers comb through your hair and scratch at the base of your ears - a whole ass adult, that you are, wants to tear up. But you can only shake your head a no. “Has this man been bothering you?” This time it’s a yes. “I got you, dear.”
“So,” the browny green eyes sharpen upon staring at the cause of your current state, when it starts speaking, “you are that ‘husband’ the foxy has been talking about? I thought you’d be stronger. Or at least taller. Now I see that I was right and you really can’t be her mate.”
“Oh but I am. Not that we have to prove anything to a stranger. Y/n,” he carefully pries your face from his shoulder, caressing your cheek with a beanie pad, “let’s go home. You must be so-so tired.”
“I am, ‘nari. I am exhaus-”
“There’s no smell of you on her and vice versa,” the desert descendent of the Valuka Shuna seems to not be planning to stop. “Her neck is not marked. You let her wander by herself for weeks? And you keep calling her by the name. Her name should've stopped mattering once she became your mate!”
The hand around your waist tenses and you can feel the claws threatening to tear through the gloves he always wears. You don’t need to look at the face of your lover to know how pissed he is. And if Tighnari decides to attack him and tear his tongue out? You will not stop him.
“I am going to say it once and only once. She is not just a mate, she is my wife, by the Sumeru law and by the blessing of the Dendro Archon. And this fact must matter to you more than the case of her name. So fuck off and leave my wife alone. And if you don’t get it in a civil way - this woman is taken. And this territory is mine.”
With that, the Forest Watcher effortlessly lifts you in his arms and, holding you as if a precious bride, turns around to leave. You haven’t looked back once.
“You can’t imagine how much I missed being called your wife,” you quietly confess, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Especially after he didn’t listen when I said that I am.”
Tighnari hums sympathetically, leaning close to rub his nose against yours.
“Will it be okay then if today I address you as my wife only? When we join the other rangers, I mean.”
”...if you think I will be embarrassed - make it a whole week.”
With a soft chuckle your husband plants a kiss on your lips, sealing the deal and promising you tranquil days at last.
“As you wish, wife.”
Zhongli
"...and so Rex Lapis takes the form of a dragon, a majestic creature he was born as - the one of whom the fair maiden would never be scared of. Lady Guizhong's robes flutter in the tender wind traveling among the mountain peaks and caressing the earthly scales of the God's enormous body. His eyes, shiny as gold, gaze at her with an unfamiliar softness as she holds a gentle flower - a delicate gift from her lover, the one that proves that under all that armor is a stone heart capable of love. Heart that is beating for her."
To loud applause the Iron Tongue Tian bows his head, drawing the legend of the gods in love to its end. You cannot bring yourself to clap even politely, both hands on your lap, hidden under the table, twitching when a man beside you lets his gloved palms meet each other a couple of times.
It’s the second time you had to sit and endure the baloney from the very beginning to the very end, not to count all those times you overheard it in passing. From the moment you settled in the Liyue Harbor together with your husband, to live the rest of your incredibly long lives together among the humans, you've been painfully aware of their interpretation of Rex Lapis and his relationship with other immortal beings. Before that you rarely accompanied him during the walks, busy with helping Yakshas and other adepti protect the said humans to grant them a peaceful life - as immortal guardians grew fewer, every single one counted.
Never have you ever imagined that knowing so little of the citizens’ folklore would backfire so hard. It seems that people got somewhat bored listening to the stories of Liyue and Rex Lapis, no matter how many interpretations existed. Literature became more diverse in genres and romantic novels were on top of the list, so street narrators started losing their audience little by little. Before it could grow into something more drastic the new side of history was presented to the public - stories about love among immortals appeared and its freshness and uniqueness caught people’s attention immediately.
In their searches for new material, speakers dug through hundreds of volumes. The main interest was the Lord of Geo, of course. If you have a story of a presumably stone-hearted creature ever having fallen in love with someone - that’s pure gold! But who could you present as a love interest of the Archon? It must be someone very close to him and, obviously, no one is more well-known for that than the deceased Archon of Dust.
You sigh, reaching for your cup and declining Madam Ping’s offer to pour you some more tea - for an unclear reason the fellow adeptus joined you two tonight. You have thousands of years of life behind your existence, a soul hardened by constant battles, and mannerism as polished as a jade statue, yet for a moment you feel concerned that the woman would notice a pang of hurt in the smallest of your features.
Zhongli definitely noticed the first time. It was meant to be a date night - simple, but sweet, with the evening lights, delightful aroma of the finest tea and the tales pouring from skilled tongues reflecting the atmosphere of what your nation really is. However, the luck of the land of trades wasn’t on your side, as someone requested the “Guili legend” as they called it. At first you were confused. Then in disbelief, almost turning to look at your mate, with whom you were bonded long before he became allies with the ash-haired woman. In the end you felt something you thought was beyond you - bitterness.
When you left the restaurant, slowly walking back to your house, Zhongli’s fingers gently touched your elbow, asking for your attention.
“Does it bother you that much, my love?”
Bother you? Well… It does feel insulting when someone speaks of your husband having been in love with someone else, but mortals can’t possibly know the truth for many reasons.
“I can’t say it doesn’t,” you admitted calmly, stopping and turning fully to him. He did the same, gazing at you with a hint of worry in those golden eyes you loved so much. The ones, you knew, always looked only at you. “But it can’t be helped, right? There was a reason and mutual agreement why you, as Rex Lapis, made our union unknown to your people, and now, since you are “dead”? There is no one to tell our story. Don’t worry though,” you put a hand on top of his and smiled, when his other one was laid on top of yours in a gesture of comfort. “I can deal with it. I know you love going to the storyteller’s performances. I’ll just try to ignore what they say about you and Lady Guizhong.”
Sometimes Zhongli thinks he does not deserve you. Ever so patient and understanding, you always had your husband's best interest at heart. Marriage, however, in its basis is a form of a contract, and a good contract is all about both sides being equal in everything. And if you must know one thing about Rex Lapis - he never makes bad contracts.
When the audience calms down, the man decides to make his presence and intentions clear by raising a hand. From the corner of his eye he notices you slightly turning your head to glance at him, and he catches a glimpse of puzzlement in your gaze. He can't help but think how adorable you are, even if you deny it again and again, claiming that nothing can be adorable about a several millennia-old warrior. Maybe not, but his wife definitely is, and he thinks with a primordial pride igniting in his chest, that mating with you was the best decision his past self had ever made.
Reaching under the table he rests his free hand on top of yours, gently squeezing it in reassurance, offering you the warmth of himself, seeping through his glove. Just as your shoulders relax to his delight, the raised hand adorned with rings is finally noticed.
"Ah, Mr Zhongli! Such an honor to see a regular, especially someone as wise as yourself!" Iron Tongue Tian beams with a wide smile, closing his fan and focusing his full attention on the history connoisseur. "I doubt you have questions, given your vast knowledge, and I can't wait to hear what else you can add to this already heart-felt story."
You force your lips not to twitch, hiding behind the tea cup again. Suddenly it tastes bitter. But another squeeze your husband gives your hand doesn't let you dwell on it too much.
"You are correct, I do have some knowledge to offer. However, it might disappoint you, as it will completely destroy the story of the Geo Archon and the Archon of Dust."
The whispers ran through the crowd like a powerful wave, and you can see confusion written over every single face. But also, there is intrigue.
"I took it upon myself,” Zhongli however continues, “to invite Madame Ping to back up my story, as she was the witness to it," the elder woman - a well-known Adeptus that doesn't hide her existence among mortals - nods with a soft smile.
"I read this in legends a long time ago, but remembered only when the 'Guili legend' became popular. Rex Lapis indeed had a lover, however it was not Lady Guizhong," the gasps are almost deafening. Just as your quickened heartbeat.
And for the next hour the man by your side and the elderly-looking woman that joined you tonight proceed to tell the story of the adeptus, who was the first and only to ever bring the Geo Archon to his knees, to be worshiped like a goddess by his eyes, by his words, by his very heart. Of a warrior, whose fierce eyes and valiant nature made a dragon in Rex Lapis roar in delight. Of the woman, who entranced him with her beauty, caring soul and motherly attention directed to other adepti - Madame Ping adds with a laugh of how the two created a parent-like dynamic even before they became official (at that you find it so hard not to turn bashful).
They tell the legend of the silk flowers - the ones you might see everywhere in the vast lands of Liyue. How the Geo Archon personally asked the Dendro Archon for guidance to cultivate the tenderest of flowers, how he taught his people to make the delicate fabric out of it, but even then it couldn’t compare to the skin of his immortal mate.
They tell stories of how annoyed she was when the god turned into a dragon to fall asleep somewhere in the depths of the earth for years without telling her prior, and how he returned with the purest stones and metals and with his own hands forged the pair of matrimonial rings (yes, the ones wrapped around your fingers to this day).
Madame Ping fondly speaks of all those thousands of years of protection the said adeptus spent to make sure that her godly spouse’s people were safe and maybe just a tiny sliver of pride rushes through your heart at the public acknowledgement.
“But she wished not to be known,” the woman sighs and you know she glances at you reproachfully. Well-deserved, given the circumstances you are in right now. “Thus it’s not much of a surprise people made a mistake like that. Besides, you won’t find much information in written sources about her either way.”
“But she must have a name at least!” Someone from the fairly grown crowd exclaims.
“That she does,” Zhongli nods, lacing his fingers with yours under the table, lips tugging in a calm smile, when you squeeze his hand in return. “Though I am afraid it would be pointless to try and find out now - we wouldn’t want to disturb her mourning the departure of her husband, would we? After all, they must’ve loved each other so much.”
“But how can you be so sure?”
“Because,” golden eyes are on you, catching yours, pulling you in, whispering for your soul and heart to get lost in them, “I can understand how this love was born and got to bloom. My wife showed me that.”
#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#il capitano x reader#capitano x reader#capitano x fem!reader#kaveh x reader#kaveh x fem!reader#tighnari x reader#tighnari x fem!reader#zhongli x reader#zhongli x fem!reader#il capitano#capitano#kaveh#tighnari#zhongli#genshin impact fluff
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hallmarks of sisterhood
putellas!reader. r mediates a fight between her sisters. they don't realize they're tearing her apart in the process. at least, not until they ruin an important night for her. can they make it up to her? fluff & angst.
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Being significantly younger than your sisters, you were the true baby of the family, and were treated as such. You were already a pretty sensitive person, and the overprotective tendencies of the entire family only increased this. You were quite different from both your sisters. Alba was an extrovert, always talking, always laughing, never thinking too hard about anything. Alexia was quieter in public, but always loud at home in an attempt to match Alba’s energy. The competitive gene only seemed to skip you, and you hated conflict. Any type of it. You didn’t like yelling, you didn’t like arguments, and you couldn’t stand when people were mad at you.
It made sense then, that you’d always been the mitigator between your sisters. They were always fighting growing up, and it took a very small you to break up the fights that the teenage versions of them would get into, often shoving your small body in between theirs and singing a song so loudly they had no choice but to stop arguing. If the singing didn’t work, then you’d cry, and that always worked.
As you got older, your role changed slightly. You were still the mitigator, but more because you were logical and smart and both of them could normally trust you to be objective. You didn’t really enjoy it, but you hated it more when they weren’t speaking to each other, so you did what you could to resolve their fights easily.
All of this considered, you were not surprised to catch yourself in an argument between them yet again. This one wasn’t super similar to the others, though, in that it was much more emotionally charged. Both Alexia and Alba seemed angrier at each other than normal, and you didn’t know why. Still, you tried to fix it, as best you could.
-------
“I cannot believe you, Alba.” Alexia sighed, shaking her head at her other sister.
“Don’t try to guilt trip me, Ale, this isn’t my fault. I told you before there was a chance I’d have to go to this conference.” Alba shot back.
“You don’t have to go, you are choosing to go. So you can hook up with that coworker you're seeing.”
Alba flushed red with anger.
“Let’s calm down, guys,” you began, shifting uncomfortably in your seat in the corner of the sectional. Neither girl paid you any mind.
“I am going for work, Alexia, I wouldn’t sleep with anyone at a work conference.”
“Oh, yes of course, you’re so above that. You are notorious for not hooking up with people in inappropriate situations Alba, how could I forget. It was only 4 of my teammates you slept with? And how many of my other friends?”
“You are such a-”
“Stop.” You cut in. “Alexia, that was mean. Alba, she’s just disappointed because she was looking forward to spending time with everyone.” You cut in, trying to cool the rising temperature of the room.
“No, I am disappointed because we made a commitment to do this for Mami and now she’s backing out. Like always.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Alba scoffed.
“The last trip to Ibiza. Mother’s day last year. My 25th birthday,” Alexia began to list, counting the events off on her fingers rather condescending.
“Guys, please calm down.” You attempted.
“Will you ever get over me missing your 25th birthday? Or are you going to have it engraved on your tombstone? ‘My sister missed my birthday once and I never shut up about it.’” Alba yelled, getting to her feet and walking closer to where Alexia was sitting at the kitchen counter.
When Alexia rose to meet her, you stood nervously, too, moving a bit closer. “Why don’t we all stay seated?” You tried.
Both of them continued to ignore you, as if you weren’t even there. “That is not the point, Alba.”
“No, Ale, the point is that only your career is important. Everyone has to drop everything for football, but what I do doesn’t matter, and I have to bend over backwards to make things work with your insane schedule. The world doesn’t revolve around you, Alexia.”
“Oh my god, Alba. You are such a bitch.” Alexia sighed, rolling her eyes in a way she knew would make the younger girl furious.
“You are the bitch, Alexia. A selfish, bossy, mean bitch,” Alba yelled, crossing her arms and taking a step closer to the older girl.
“Alba, I swear to god,” Alexia threw back, the volume of her voice making you flinch. You stepped in between them, forcing them to both back up a bit.
“Please stop shouting.” You pleaded, looking between them. Both of them turned to you, annoyed.
“Go somewhere else if it’s bothering you, pequeña! Adults argue. Grow up.” Alexia yelled, sending a glare your way. You stopped back, blinking away tears, looking incredibly hurt. Alexia sighed. “Sorry, nena, I didn’t mean-”
It was too late, though, you were pushing past her towards the door of her house. “No, whatever. I’ll go. Solve your argument by yourselves for once.” You snapped.
“Nice job, Ale, you made the el bebe cry.” Alba said mockingly.
“Shut your mouth, Alba. Pequeña, come back,” Alexia called, but the door was already slamming shut behind you.
You wiped at your eyes furiously, getting into your car. You’d always hated how sensitive you were, how anyone raising their voice at you made you cry. You couldn’t argue, couldn’t disagree without dissolving into tears. Normally, angry tears. You’d always been like this, and your sisters often made fun of it, but were aware of the fact that you hated yelling, and tried to avoid doing so. Even when they were fighting with each other. Today got too out of control, though, both of them taking this specific issue very seriously.
They’d have to figure it out themselves, this time. You were done with this. They knew how you felt about conflict, and yet they always put you in the middle. It was exhausting and hurtful being caught in between them. They were adults, they could solve this argument.
You and Eli didn’t live far from Alexia, and you reached home before you were really ready to. You needed to erase all evidence of your tears from your face before heading inside, because Eli could not know about this. You and your sisters did not tell on each other, for one thing. For another, there was a possibility the trip in question could be rescheduled and you didn’t want to ruin the surprise.
You checked your face in the mirror, took a deep breath, denied Alexia’s phone call, and headed inside, prepared to pretend that nothing was wrong.
------
You got past your mother with very few questions asked, as she was distracted reading over Alexia’s new Nike contracts. Your sister still had Eli read all her contracts, a habit you and Alba teased her about often.
Eli did come knocking, though, only a few hours later, while you were in your room getting some homework done. “Nena?” She called from the hallway, not hearing a response to her knock.
Still, you didn’t say anything, so she pushed the door open, only to find you asleep at your desk, your head resting on a pile of photographs, your computer opened up to photoshop. A black and white photo of your sister at training was pulled up, and Eli quickly averted her eyes, knowing very well she wasn’t supposed to see this particular assignment until you were done.
“Mija,” Eli said, covering her eyes as she heard you stir. “Go to bed, it’s late, and you are exhausted.”
“Do not look, Mami!” You cried, sitting up completely and quickly flipping everything over and shutting your computer.
“I’m not!” Eli replied, laughing at how secretive you were about these photos.
“Okay, everything is away.” You said, standing to give your mother a hug before getting into bed. She squeezed you tight, as she always did, kissing your cheek before letting go.
“Goodnight,” she said, giving you a kind smile.
“Goodnight mami,” you replied, knowing she was smiling because she knew you were about to get back on your computer as soon as she left the room.
“Oh, do you know why your sister’s are fighting? I texted the groupchat with them, and they both replied to me separately.” Eli asked with an eye roll, quite used to your sisters’ antics.
“Something dumb, probably.” You said with an unconvincing laugh. Your mother gave you a weird look, like she didn't believe you, but didn’t push it.
As soon as she was out of the room, you were, in fact, back on your computer, finishing up the final touches on a photo of Alexia. You were really too excited to be preoccupied with your sisters at the moment. You were in school studying photography, and after a recent exhibition at your school, a gallery in Barcelona had reached out and asked you to shoot a series for them to display. They’d given you full creative control, which was an insane amount of trust to put into a 20 year old, and you were determined not to mess it up.
If that meant staying up late making sure every photo was perfect in the next couple days, so be it. You were proud of this work, and that wasn’t really a common feeling for you. You’d grown up in the shadow of your two sisters. Alexia was the best female footballer in the world, and Alba was… Alba. Everyone loved her. Nothing you ever did seemed to really make anyone pay attention, except for your Mami. Eli had always been careful to celebrate your and Alba’s accomplishments, like she celebrated Alexia’s, even if they weren’t of the same magnitude. Your sisters were a bit better than the rest of your family and friends, paying attention to what you did, but it always felt a bit like your mother was making them do so.
This was your chance to do something impressive of your own. Something that everyone could understand, everyone could be impressed by. It was an opportunity you were not about to waste. You didn’t realize the potential that other people had, though, to ruin it for you.
------
The next few days were busy. When you weren’t working on your photos, making sure they were perfectly edited and printed properly, you were worrying about what people would think about them. Or you were trying to pick the perfect outfit for Saturday evening, the opening of the gallery. There wasn’t a ton of time for you to respond to Alexia’s repetitive apologies, or to Alba’s pleading for you to be on her side. It was annoying, really, that during such an important and stressful week, they couldn’t leave you out of their argument.
You finally had enough on Friday, pulling up the groupchat with both of them in it, and sending a rather harsh message. It wasn’t like you to be harsh and snap at them, and you were hoping they would get the message that they’d upset you, and you wanted to be left out of this.
If one of you texts me one more time about this idiotic fight, I am going to tell Mami that it was you two who dented her car, not the neighbor backing into it. I am so tired of being pulled into the middle of this. Both of you apologize to each other for being mean, and get over it.
You hoped that would be the end of it. When your phone buzzed a few minutes later, though, you knew that had been a naive hope.
Alexia had responded first.
It should not be hard to pick a side when I am right, nena.
Alba responded after that.
You always let Alexia get away with things you’d yell at me about. You can both apologize to me when you are ready.
You weren’t really sure how Alba had decided that you’d sided with Alexia, but you certainly were not going to be apologizing to her anytime soon. You left them both on read, figuring they’d make up before the gallery opening tomorrow night.
-------
You were up pretty much the entire night before the gallery. This time, not because anything needed to get done, but because you were nervous. You were thinking about everything that could possibly go wrong. By the time morning rolled around, you slept for maybe a couple hours, and created a decisive list of every bad thing that could happen today.
You actually hadn’t thought of everything, but you wouldn’t know that until later.
You’d passed out just as the sun had started to rise, and Eli came in to wake you up only a few hours later.
“Nena, despierta,” she said softly, setting down a mug of coffee on your nightstand and shaking your shoulder.
You bolted upright in bed, and looked around frantically, startling your mother. “Am I late?!” You gasped, moving to get out of your bed as fast as possible.
“No, no, you aren’t late. It is only 11. Relax, mija, everything is okay.” Eli soothed, gently pushing you back down onto the bed.
You let out a relieved sigh, rubbing at your face with your hands. “Sorry.”
“Did you sleep at all?” Eli asked with a disapproving look.
“Not much. I tried, I swear, I just couldn’t turn my brain off.”
Your mother patted your cheek reassuringly. “You’re almost done, nena. It’s all going to go perfectly.”
You nodded, trying to believe her words. You just had this weird, nagging feeling that something was going to go wrong. There wasn’t time to focus on this feeling, though, no matter how much you wanted to. There was simply too much to be done. Accepting the hug your mother offered, you got up, ready to prepare yourself for the long day ahead.
-------
You didn’t really think anything of it when you didn’t see either of your sisters right away. You were busy greeting other people, family and friends. Some of Alexia’s teammates had made it, and you spent some time taking in the awestruck expression on Mapi’s face when she saw the singular photo of her included.
That was the best part of the whole thing, you decided. Getting to see everyone’s reactions to seeing themselves up on the wall.
The theme was people you loved, in their happy place. The project was joyful and fun, radiating happiness. Looking at the photos made you smile, and you were glad to see that everyone seemed to have the same reaction as they took their time looking at each image.
You had Mapi giggling at something Ingrid had said, a candid taken after a Barça game. Ingrid was smiling back at her, like making her girlfriend laugh was the only thing she wanted to do for the rest of her life.
You had your Mami, sitting in the stands of one of Alexia’s games, looking on with pride all over her face. You had her pinching Alba’s cheek, a fond smile on her face as your sister said something that was, no doubt, ridiculous.
You had your aunts and your uncles around the dinner table, all laughing hysterically.
You had your friends at the beach, all lounging and staring out into the ocean, looking peaceful.
You had your best friend sitting in the driver's seat of her car, singing along passionately to her favorite song.
More than anyone else, though, you had your sisters.
Alexia preparing to take a penalty, determined. Celebrating with her teammates after a goal. Cheekily blowing a kiss to Olga in the stands. Smiling proudly at Vicki after an impressive goal. Proudly wearing the captain’s armband in front of a completely sold out stadium. Leaned against Olga on the couch after a movie night, out cold. She was completely peaceful, with Olga looking down at her adoringly.
You had Alba at the school where she taught. Candids of her face, when one of her students got the answer right, or made her laugh. With her dog, holding him up at the aquarium, eye level with one of the dolphins. You had her watching Alexia play, too, a grin on her face that you were sure she was unaware of. Your favorite of Alba was a photo you’d taken in your Mami’s kitchen, while she’d been baking. Alba was sneaking a taste of the cake batter, and you’d captured her mid-wink, giving the camera a smile while Eli’s back was turned to her.
They hadn’t seen any of these photos; you’d almost gone crazy not showing them, and not giving in to them when they begged to see.
You’d finally managed to break away from a crowd of your friends, having a moment to yourself, when you realized that you still hadn’t seen your sisters yet. Ale’s teammates were here. Some of Alba’s friends were here. The whole family was here. You checked your watch, a frown on your face, seeing that they were both already over a half hour late, which was unlike both of them. It was only when you saw Olga looking up at one of the photos she was pictured in, all by herself, that you really got a sinking feeling in your stomach. She was talking to Irene when you walked over and interrupted, gently pulling Olga away from the conversation.
“Where is Ale? Is she coming late?” You asked, confused by the sad look on Olga’s face.
“No, nena, I’m sorry. She didn’t want to see Alba, so she decided not to come. I tried to convince her to, but she didn’t listen.” Olga said delicately. You looked like you’d been hit across the face, honestly, and Olga wanted nothing more than to march home and drag Alexia over here, but she knew better to try to convince the blonde to do something she had decided she wouldn’t. “She said she texted you?”
You pulled your phone out, taking a deep breath when you saw almost identical texts from both of your sisters.
Can’t make it tonight. I’ll come see it another time. Good luck!
Sorry, hermanita, I can’t come tonight. Love you.
You had been so excited for them to see their pictures. There was a little note up on the wall, too, a statement thanking everyone for coming. In it, you mentioned being excited to allow your sisters to finally see the photos, as they’d been begging to for a while now. And they hadn’t come.
A wave of embarrassment washed over you, your cheeks flushing red. You were angry, too, but you blinked your tears back, looking up at Olga and trying to look more put together than you felt.
“No Alba either.” You said, your voice cracking slightly.
“Oh, nena, I am so sorry.” Olga whispered, pulling you into a tight hug. It was too soft, and too comforting. You pulled away rapidly, shaking your head.
“It’s fine. I don’t care.” You said, cutting the brunette off before she could say anything else. “I have to go talk to someone, thank you for coming, Olga.”
You rushed away from your sister’s girlfriend, focusing on taking deep breaths. You couldn’t be sad, not right now. So many people had come here to celebrate you and your work, and you weren’t going to ruin it. You could be upset later. It was almost excruciating, pretending that you weren’t upset that your sisters hadn't come, but you managed it. You kept up a pretty good façade for the rest of the evening, even when you saw Olga speaking in hushed voices to Irene and Mapi, even when everyone kept asking where Ale and Alba were. You held it together. Because you, unlike them, could pretend that nothing was wrong for the sake of others.
-------
Your mother knew you better than anyone. You should have been thrilled, ecstatic. Everything had gone so well. Your photos had been a hit, the owners of the gallery had been thrilled. She realized neither of her other daughters had shown up, but she assumed they had talked that through with you. She wasn’t sure what was wrong with you, but when you declined going out with some of your friends as the night came to an end, Eli knew something wasn’t right.
She had every intention of letting you come to her, but you weren’t talking. As everyone began to file out of the gallery, saying their final goodbyes, Eli overheard you tell your friends you were going to go home because you were tired. You didn't say a single word to her aside from telling her that you’d see her at home, before you practically fled the building, heading for your car. She didn’t couldn’t imagine what was wrong, never expecting her daughters to have done what they did. Eli didn’t even think of them being a possible reason as to why you were upset. Mapi pulled her aside, though, before she could go after you, an infuriated look on her face.
“Do you know what your daughters have done?” She asked quietly.
Eli frowned. “No. What have they done?”
Mapi shook her head. “They both bailed on tonight over text to pequeña. They are in some stupid fight that they’ve put her in the middle of, and they didn’t want to see each other, so they didn’t come.”
Suddenly, Eli was quite furious at her eldest daughters. There would be hell to pay, she’d make sure of it. How could they be so selfish, and ruin your night like this? You’d been almost beside yourself for weeks about this night, and she knew the people you wanted to impress most were your sisters. And they hadn’t come. Before she yelled at them, though, she needed to go home to you, because she was very sure that you weren’t okay. Your odd behavior made sense, now, and Eli’s heart ached at the thought of you driving all by yourself while you were so upset.
“I will deal with them.” Eli said quietly. “Thank you for telling me, María, and for coming. It meant a lot to her.”
Mapi smiled sympathetically. “Of course. Let me know if you need help kicking some Putellas ass.”
Eli chuckled. “I will.”
She set off to her car after that, ignoring Alexia’s numerous phone calls. Likely, Olga had arrived home and laid into her for not coming, and Alexia was looking to be let off the hook from her Mami that she hadn’t messed up that badly. Eli wouldn’t be doing that.
-------
You didn’t make it far into the house. In your new dress, one that was reminiscent of the dress Alexia had worn to win her first balon d’or, you’d collapsed onto the couch, harsh sobs ripping their way out of your chest. You cried until your makeup ran and your chest hurt. Until your Mami arrived home, rushing through the door, her heart breaking when she saw the state you were in. Eli was by your side instantly, pulling you into her arms. It was rare that a hug from your mother didn’t make you feel better, but this was the case today. You weren’t really sure that anything would help, but you still buried yourself into your Mami’s arms, wishing more than anything that she could fix this for you.
“They didn’t come, Mami,” you sobbed.
“I know, mija, I am so sorry.”
“Am I not more important than their stupid fight?” You asked, looking up at your mother with a devastated expression on your face. “I was so excited for them to see, I just wanted them to be proud of me.”
Eli felt anger fill her at a level she’d never quite felt before. “I am proud of you, cariño, so proud of you. It’s all going to be okay, I promise. Everything is going to be fine.” She soothed, running her hand through your hair, shushing you softly. Her fury would have to wait, until you stopped crying. Eli would always put you first when you needed it, even if your sisters didn’t.
-------
It was late by the time you’d stopped crying and headed up to bed. With a soft goodnight to your Mami, you’d slumped upstairs, barely changing into your pajamas before you collapsed into your bed, absolutely exhausted. Being disappointed was tiring, apparently. And you were more disappointed than you’d ever been in your life.
Downstairs, Eli waited until she heard your door shut before she pulled her phone out, returning one of the 15 missed calls from her eldest daughter. Alexia picked up quickly, her voice dripping with guilt.
“Mami, I-”
“No. Do not try to explain yourself. You and Alba have done a terrible thing, Alexia. I am not sure how you will make it up to your sister, but you will. You will figure out how to fix it, you will apologize, you will mean it.”
“Sí, Mami.” Alexia said, her voice small like when she used to get scolded for kicking the football in the house or holding the tv remote high out of her sisters’ reach.
“I am so disappointed, Alexia. In you and Alba both.”
“I know, Mami.” Alexia replied, blinking hard to fight off her tears. “I’ll fix it, Al and I will fix it.”
“You will. Goodnight, Alexia. I love you.” Eli was furious, but she’d always say it, always make sure her daughters knew how loved they were.
“I love you too Mami,” the blonde choked out, feeling worse about this than she’d ever felt about anything in her entire life.
Eli called Alba next, who was significantly more clueless about the situation. Neither had known the other wasn’t going, but it was beyond your mother how either of her daughters could have underestimated how important to you this night was. Alba was in tears, like Alexia, by the end of the call, also promising her mother she’d fix it.
Eli knew the level of guilt Alexia and Alba must have been feeling at the moment, considering how protective they were of you. They never wanted you to be hurt, but you were. And they were the reason why. As she checked on you, ensuring you were asleep, she knew that her older daughters would go to the ends of the earth to make this up to you.
--------
Alba was sitting on her couch, willing herself to be the bigger person and pick up the phone to call Alexia, when she heard a knock at the door. The brunette knew who was there before she pulled it open, not flinching when her older sister was standing on her front porch.
Alexia had a drink carrier in one hand, and two bags in the other, giving Alba an unreadable look. “Can I come in?”
Alba nodded, stepping aside to let her sister in. The blonde headed for the living room, setting the coffees down, and grabbing hers out of the holder. Alba grabbed the other, noting that it was her favorite coffee, and her favorite breakfast pastry, from her favorite bakery. A bakery Alexia didn’t particularly like, but had clearly stopped at just for Alba.
It was a peace offering. One that Alba took, grabbing the coffee and the pastry, sitting on the couch next to her sister in a much less tense silence. They made up in the way only sister’s could, with no words necessary for either of them to know that the other was sorry for what had been said.
“We fucked up.” Alexia said after a minute, glancing at her sister.
“We really did.” Alba replied.
“We have to fix it.” Alexia declared.
“We really do.” Alba agreed.
“Are you going to keep agreeing with me, or are you going to come up with a solution here?”
“As the one who started the fight that led to us letting our sister down, I think it should be you who solves the problem, Alexia.” Alba retorted, a smirk on her face.
Her sister shook her head, shoving the brunette’s shoulder lightly. “You are supposed to be the smart one, hermana. Get thinking.”
“New car?”
“New house?”
“Can we buy her a country?”
They broke into laughter, the tension completely gone from the room, before they really got brainstorming. They were a good team when they weren’t fighting, and it wasn’t long before they’d come up with something that they hoped would make up for their horrible behavior.
-------
The minute you saw Alexia’s car pull into the driveway from your spot on the couch, you were standing up, prepared to flee the room. You’d known this would happen at some point today, but you weren’t ready to see them. You felt so humiliated and so neglected, you were sure that seeing them would have you in tears, and you didn’t really want to show that emotion in front of them. Not now, not when they were the reason you were so upset.
You knew how important family was to your mother, though, and you knew that if she told you to stay and talk to them, you would. Looking at her cautiously, you took in the wary expression on her face.
“Do you want to hear them out, mija?” Eli asked gently.
“No. I don’t want to see them right now. Please don’t make me.” You begged.
“I won’t make you do anything. Go upstairs, I’ll tell you when they’re gone.” Eli sighed, and with her permission, you practically sprinted up the stairs to your room, closing and locking the door behind you.
Your older sisters walked through the doors to the house like they were afraid of what awaited them inside, and it seems that they should have been. Eli stood from her chair, walking over to them, looking unimpressed at the large present in Alexia’s hands.
“Hola Mami,” Alba greeted softly. They both wanted to make this up to you, of course, but they also hated when their mother was mad at them.
“I do not think that buying her a present is going to fix this.” Eli said pointedly. Alexia and Alba exchanged nervous glances, relaxing slightly when Eli allowed them further into the house. “What is it?”
“It’s the new camera. The brand new canon model that she wanted, with all the extra lenses and storage and stuff.” Alexia said, feeling less and less confident about how she and Alba had chosen to go about this.
“And you think that is enough?” Eli asked bluntly.
“It’s a start.” Alba said, a bit defensively. “We know we messed up, Mami, and we missed the opening night but we can go see it today. Are you not being a little dramatic about this?”
Alexia shot her younger sister a look, knowing exactly how hurt you were, because Olga had returned home from the gallery and told her.
“You did not see her last night. When she realized you weren’t coming? She completely shut down. She talked to everyone she needed to, but I did not see her smile the rest of the night. She rushed out of the building just as the evening ended, and by the time I got home, she was sitting on the couch, sobbing. It was supposed to be her night, and you ruined it.” Eli snapped.
Alexia and Alba both looked appropriately ashamed, their heads dropping, gazes pointed at the floor in an almost identical fashion. They felt guilty, obviously, but Eli wasn’t quite sure they understood that it wasn’t just about them missing your event. It was so much more than that.
“She asked me why she is not more important to both of you than an argument. I do not want to spoil the gallery, but I do not think you understand how embarrassing it was for her to have countless photos of you two up on the wall, when you did not even come.”
Both her daughters’ heads snapped up at this. “Of us?” Alba asked. “The project was of us?”
“It was about her loved ones. You two were featured more than anyone else. She was so excited to see your reactions to the photos.” Eli continued, only making them feel worse.
“Please, Mami, I cannot hear anymore.” Alexia said softly, her heart aching at the thought of how upset you must be at the moment. Every detail that her mother added made it worse. She wasn’t sure she’d ever done anything like this to you before, and the thought that you might not forgive her was filling her with anxiety.
“No, you will hear all of it.” Eli said, shaking her head. “She said to me, ‘I was so excited for them to see, I just wanted them to be proud of me.’”
“We are proud of her, she has to know that.” Alba cut in desperately. Her mother just shook her head.
“She does not. Nothing she ever does feels very important to either of you, because it is always something you have done before. This was something that was her own, and she just wanted to share it with you. Everything your sister does is so that you two will be proud of her, and pay attention to her.”
At this, Alexia stood up from the couch, walking over to the window and putting her face in her hands. Her shoulders shook with silent cries, and neither her mother or her sister were very surprised at the emotional outburst. Alexia was always emotional when it came to you; she remembered the day you’d been born, every milestone in your life. You were your very tough sister’s soft spot.
“Do you think we can fix it?” Alba asked quietly, terrified of her mother’s answer.
With a deep sigh, Eli nodded her head. Alexia turned around hopefully, hanging on to Eli’s every word. “Your baby sister has always been more forgiving than both of you. She is hurt, but she will forgive you. She loves you both too much not to.”
Every word Eli said felt like a bullet to the chest to both of your sisters, something your mother was well aware of. She wasn’t going to sugar coat this. It was silent in the room for several minutes, every member of the family lost in thought. Alexia looked furious with herself, Alba looked like she was close to tears, and Eli just looked disappointed. She’d always trusted your sisters to take care of you when she couldn’t, but she wasn’t so sure she had that confidence in them anymore.
“I have an idea.” Alexia said finally, looking between her mother and her sister hesitantly. They both agreed to what she proposed, though, and it wasn’t long before Eli had pulled out some paper and pens for her daughters. They both sat on the floor around the coffee table and got writing. It was reminiscent of when they’d do their homework in the same spot years ago, sitting on the floor so they could play with you while they finished their assignments.
Now, though, you were painfully absent from the scene in front of your mother, and Eli could only hope that this would work.
-------
Alexia and Alba agreed that only one of them would go upstairs, give you the two pieces of paper, and let you be for the evening. Alexia was desperate to see you, while Alba wasn’t sure she could do so without crying, and she didn’t particularly want to put that on you at the moment. You hated seeing your sisters upset, and she didn’t want to inadvertently guilt you into forgiving her before you were ready. So, Alexia made her way upstairs, agreeing to Eli’s warnings to leave you alone if you wouldn’t let her in.
Her knock on your door was uncharacteristically gentle, and her voice was almost shaky as she announced herself.
“Nena? Can I come in for a minute?”
Taking a deep breath, you opened the door, feeling rather satisfied to see the guilt all over her face.
Alexia stepped into the room, looking so nervous and so unlike herself. She was fidgeting with two pieces of paper in her hands, barely able to bring herself to look you in the eye. “I am so sorry, hermanita. More sorry than I can put into words.” She didn't seem to know what else to say, and you rolled your eyes.
“Do you think that is enough?” You asked.
Alexia shook her head rapidly. “No, I know it isn’t. Alba and I are going to fix this, nena, I promise. Whatever we have to do, whatever it takes. We will make this up to you. There is nothing more important to us than you.”
Your eldest sister could tell you didn’t believe her, the way you looked away from her was a dead giveaway.
“I know you are upset, and that is okay. I just… can I give you a hug, nena? You can still be mad at me and everything. I’d just really like an hermanita hug.” Alexia said vulnerably, tears clouding her vision. She had underestimated how painful it would be to see you so upset with her, but her chest truly ached as she took in the betrayal and disappointment on your face. A few tears fell from her eyes, and it was this bit of emotion that had you nodding your head, stepping forward as Alexia wrapped her arms around you almost painfully tight.
It made you feel better, even though it probably shouldn’t have. Your sister’s hugs always felt warm and safe, and today was no exception. Even though she’d hurt you. It was still Alexia, and she was a hard person to stay mad at. Still, you pulled away before you wanted to, and the blonde cleared her throat, holding out the pieces of paper for you.
“From me and Alba. We will be downstairs, if you want to talk.” Your sister opened and closed her mouth a few times, before shaking her head, mustering a weak smile, and leaving the room. She shut the door behind her, something she never did, always insisting on leaving it open just to bother you.
You opened your sisters’ letters, not quite sure what you would be reading. You weren’t quite angry anymore, just sad. You were never one to hold a grudge, but you weren’t sure how they were going to be able to make this stop hurting.
You underestimate, however, how well your sisters knew you, and combined with the information they had from Eli, they knew just what to say. You read both the letters a few times, tears streaming down your face for what felt like the 12th time that day. This time, though, they were good tears.
Both letters were similar, but very… specific to each of your sisters.
Alexia’s was practically a bullet pointed list, in her messy, big handwriting. There was a mark on the page that looked suspiciously like a teardrop, and Alexia talked about her emotions in the letter the way she always did in real life; saying as little as possible, while still somehow saying a whole lot.
Alba’s was a real letter, paragraph after paragraph of neat writing, beautifully articulating what she wanted to say to you. It was always a bit surprising to remember how perceptive Alba was. She was a forgetful person, but not when it came to the things that mattered. This was clear in the letter, as she listed small details out that you hadn’t thought she’d noticed.
Both of the letters were an apology. An apology, and a deep dive into how proud of you Alexia and Alba were. They apologized for not making it clear, before going back to when you were a baby, and they watched you walk for the first time. Through the years, they had overlapping and different memories of things you’d done that made them swell with pride. There were things you remembered, and things you didn’t, but they made you feel special all the same. Alexia and Alba did pay attention, that much was clear. Even if they weren’t always the best at showing it, they paid attention to you.
It did more than a verbal apology could have ever done. It was something tangible, kind, warm and loving. It made you feel loved, and seen. It made you feel like you mattered. You weren’t Alexia, and you weren’t Alba, but you were you, and they felt that to be something much more special.
You tried to hold out a bit longer, you really did, but you were putting the letters down and rushing downstairs before you could really stop yourself.
You passed the kitchen on the way to the living room, where your Mami was preparing dinner, a small, relieved smile on her face. Wishing you had something funny and unbothered to say, you walked into the room, seeing your sisters sitting on the couch, looking pathetically distraught.
“Hola.” You said softly, feeling indescribably happy when both of their faces lit up at the sight of you, and you quickly crossed the room, wedging yourself in between them. They made room for you, as they always did, allowing you to fit easily into your spot squished with Alexia on one side, and Alba on the other.
They each wrapped an arm around you, and both tried to pull you in opposite directions. It was ironic, the way they used you to play a silly game of tug of war. This time, however, they stopped pulling when they realized neither of them would win. Instead, they both wrapped you into a very awkward and suffocating hug, arms wrapped around you from seemingly every direction.
“I love you, nena.” Alexia whispered, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.
Alba did the same to your cheek. “I am so sorry, hermanita, and I love you so much,” she whispered.
“I know.” You said softly. “I forgive you.”
And if it had been either of them in your position, it would have taken a lot more. You were the forgiving sister, though, and you’d really just needed proof that your sisters thought that you were as important as you felt them to be.
When Eli came in the room a few minutes later, it was to see the three of you in a rather familiar position; you in the middle, each of your sisters holding on to as much of you as they could, completely content. They’d always like to hold you like that, starting when you were a baby. Alexia would carefully put you on the couch in between them, and put a movie on. They would take turns telling you all the important details your brain was far too small to comprehend, but you didn’t squirm, and you didn’t fuss. You would stay plopped right in between them, one of each of their fingers gripped tight in your hands.
It was a lot different now, because you were all bigger. It looked like an uncomfortable pile of limbs on the couch, but Eli knew you were all as comfortable as you’d ever get.
-------
Neither of your sisters seemed very willing to let you out of their sight anytime soon, which you were sure would grow annoying very fast. For now, though, you enjoyed the attention, especially when Alexia pushed the wrapped box that had been sitting on the table into your hands.
And, you’d already forgiven them before you’d seen the camera they’d bought you, one that you’d been desperately wanting for a while. If you hadn’t forgiven them, though, you would have now. You could be bought, and your sisters were well aware of it. As was your Mami. She rolled her eyes as you stared in awe at the camera, as Alexia and Alba looked on proudly, sharing a discreet fist bump. Personally, Eli thought you’d let them off kind of easy, but she shouldn’t have underestimated you. You were a youngest child, and you knew how to get what you wanted.
“Can we go see your photos after dinner?” Alba asked, not even getting a glance from you, your attention completely zeroed in on the camera in your hands.
“Nope.” You replied. Alexia and Alba looked uneasily at each other, and then at their Mami for guidance, before you spoke again. “Alexia, you are going to clean my room. And Alba, you are going to make me those cookies I like. We can go see the gallery tomorrow.”
Your face was smug, and your mother stifled a laugh as your sisters looked disgruntled at each other. Begrudgingly, though, they both nodded.
“Anything for the princess.” Alexia mumbled, and Alba snickered quietly.
“What was that?” You asked, turning your attention to your sisters. They looked at you in defiance, smirks on both of their faces, not willing to let you completely walk all over them, even if they deserved it.
“You heard me.” Alexia teased. “The baby princess always gets her way.”
“Really, Ale?” You asked calmly, before turning to Eli, your new camera briefly forgotten on the table in front of you. “Mami, do you have any plans in two weekends? I was thinking we could take a trip just the two of-”
Alexia cut you off by rather aggressively throwing herself at you, covering your mouth with her hand. “NO HERMANITA!” The blonde shouted. “Oh, gross, nena, really?” She groaned, pulling her hand away when you licked it. You smiled triumphantly, managing to push away from her a bit.
“You are not a princess, nena. Just a little baby.” Alba chimed in, reaching over from her chair to pinch your cheek in one hand. “Now keep quiet before you ruin the surprise and give Ale a stroke.”
Your mother shook her head, taking pity on her eldest daughter, who looked prepared to explode at the thought of the surprise being ruined. “Do you think I do not know you were planning a trip for the four of us, Alexia? Honey, you asked me several times if I was free that weekend, and reminded me not to make any plans then either. You also asked me for hotel recommendations, and pretended it was for you and Olga. You are a bad liar, mija. I have known for weeks.” Eli laughed.
Alexia frowned, shoving you and Alba both away from her as you both collapsed into giggles, despite the fact that this was entirely her fault, and you and Alba were blameless. She knew there was teasing coming her way, but the smile on your face was well worth it. Order had been restored, and both of your sisters had made promises to themselves, and to each other, to not let their arguments hurt you anymore. You were just happy to have them both there, at home. All four of you together, how it was supposed to be.
-------
it will really always be funny to me that my sister and i do not say the words "i'm sorry" to each other. like we'd both rather die than apologize. she could hit me with her car and i wouldn't want her to apologize because... ew. anyway sometimes having a sister is cool and sometimes its not but i love mine.
everyone applaud me for not splitting this into two parts. seriously i am astounded at myself right now.
hope you all like it :) give me all your thoughts.
#woso imagine#woso x reader#woso one shot#woso fanfics#alexia putellas x reader#putellas!reader#platonic reader
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boyfriend - leah williamson
leah williamson x reader
description: in which your girlfriend is just the definition of boyfriend
warnings: swearing, a little suggestive
a/n: i was writing my requests and got the overwhelming urge to write this because leah is just the definition of boyfriend, i don’t make the rules, i also saw the picture of her this morning and died so here you go lmao
⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆
your girlfriend, leah, was the literal definition of boyfriend. and yeah, maybe that didn’t make sense, but it did to you.
leah williamson was incredibly protective, supportive and disciplined to the public eye, but to you, she was just your leah.
your leah found comfort in burying her face in the crook of your neck to avoid the rest of the world.
your leah loved to hold your hand or any part of your body at every given moment so everyone knew you were hers and she was yours.
your leah was incredibly stubborn, especially when it came to you. your leah worshipped the ground you walked on.
—
you and leah grew up together in the arsenal youth teams, quickly gravitating towards each other when you both realised how passionate you were about football, exactly like the other person.
when you both got selected for the england teams, you two grew extremely close, finding comfort in just being around each other. you both brought out the best in each other and everyone could see it, both on and off the pitch.
you and leah didn’t have many issues surrounding your years of pining, the two of you would shamelessly flirt from the time you were both 19 and changing that dynamic of being best friends to something more.
“baby, do not go on this date” leah pleads as you held up a forth outfit up to your body, “what do you think?” you turn to face her, a scowl evident on her 19 year old face as she sat on the edge of your bed.
“you look gorgeous, that’s not the point, (y/n)” she spits out, “i don’t want you to go,” leah crosses her arms over her chest and glares at you chuckling in the mirror.
“i want to go, lee baby” you tease, making the girl huff in frustration when you brought out yet another top against you.
“fine, wear the second outfit, see if i care,” she grumbles, picking at her cuticles while you smile at her through the mirror.
you were just pulling her leg, there wasn’t really a date, you just loved to tease leah but you also wanted your relationship to progress, to finally call her yours.
“babe” you call out, moving to stand in between her spread legs, she looks up at you curiously, her glare still a little evident as you smiled down at her.
“what?” she sighs, your hands make your ways to her shoulders, massaging them gently and feeling her relax under your touch.
“there’s no date, you git” you chuckle, leah tenses again, “sorry?” you really couldn’t help but laugh at her face of relief but also mischief as she looked up at you.
“i’m fucking with you, there’s no date” you laugh, leah grabs the sides of your hips and chucks you onto your bed, moving to straddle your hips as she tickled your sides.
“you’re such a little shit!” she laughs, smiling brightly at the bright laughs coming out of your mouth.
“why would you tell me there was a date?” she breathes out, lacing your fingers together as she pinned them by the sides of your head.
“wanted to see how you’d react” you say breathlessly, your chest heaving while an affectionate smile adorns your features.
“you seemed a little jealous, williamson?” you say teasingly, leah shakes her head, pinning you by your hips to the bed with her own, “fuck off, i was not” she defends, giving your hands a squeeze as you laugh up at her.
your heart was beating out of your chest, so was leah’s, but in a good way. a weirdly familiar way.
“you so were” you smirk, “i don’t want you to go” you mock her accent, she rolls her eyes fondly, lifting your hand up and threatening to bite your fingers.
you yelp when her teeth actually does graze your pointer finger, making her chuckle against your skin.
her eyes flicker between your own before falling to your lips, subconsciously wetting hers with her tongue as she looked back up at your eyes.
“looking a little flushed there, gorgeous, you alright?” she teases, you shake your head at her, “i’m fine, but you look a little flushed there, babe, anything you want to tell me?” you tease right back.
she giggles at your words, kissing the corner of your mouth, your breath hitched at how close she was to your lips, feeling her smirk against your skin as she trailed kisses along your cheeks.
she pulls back, dangerously close to your face as she chuckles, both of your pupils were blown out, cheeky grins evident on both of your faces.
leah puts you out of your misery and gives you that kiss you’d both been dreaming of, it was as perfect as a first kiss could go.
a little inexperienced at first but quickly learning from each other as it continued. you hummed against leah’s lips and she can’t help but grin into the kiss.
the kiss lasted for a couple of seconds before she let go of you, pulling you to sit up cross legged in front of her while she offered you a sheepish smile.
“be my girlfriend?” she breathes out, you nod instantly, making your way into her lap and kissing her until the air was knocked out from your lungs.
when you both pulled away, you tuck a stray piece of hair behind her ear and leah’s heart fluttered. at the gesture but also the fact you were doing it as her girlfriend. “took you long enough” you grin, she pinches your hip and smirks when you squirm in her lap.
“how about i wear outfit number two and we go out on our own date” you smile cheekily, she presses a quick, tender kiss to your lips in response,
“you’ve got yourself a deal” she whispers against your lips, her hands gently squeezing your hips as you ended up in another kiss.
—
in present times, you and leah moved in together, both of you were extremely successful in your football careers.
leah was the captain of the england senior team and you couldn’t be more proud, showing her how much you loved that armband the first time she wore it.
you and leah had so much love for each other it was sickeningly sweet. both of you were head over heels, affection an understatement for the two of you.
it was obvious in the way you acted around her, dropping anything and everything if she needed something. telling her verbally how much you loved her no matter where you were. giving her heart eyes every two seconds that had her stomach swarming with butterflies.
and in leah’s case, she’s been called a simp way more than she’d like to admit but she didn’t mind. it was true after all.
—
“baby, you’ll get sick like that” leah scolds as you walk out of the change room onto the pitch where she was waiting for you for a pre match lap, your puffer unzipped in just your training kit.
“i’m fine, love” you smile, walking up to her and promptly puckering your lips up at her, she shakes her head fondly, pressing a couple of kisses to your lips while you sighed happily.
she pulls away from you, tugging you closer by the sides of your puffer and zipping it up for you. you smile at her appreciatively, she pinches your cheek gently before grabbing your hand and interlacing it with hers as you both walked around, posing for photos together with cheesy grins if needed.
your cheeks were a little red, not only from leah but the cold as well. leah moves you to stand in front of her again, her arms wrapping around you and prompting you to do the same as she pulled you closer.
she kisses your cheeks repeatedly, feeling them warm up under her lips as she spreads her love on both. “still cold?” she says softly, you nod with a cheeky grin, “very” she narrows her eyes at you amusingly but continues spreading kisses over your entire face, relishing in the soft giggles you were rewarding her with.
suddenly, she gasps, reaching into her pockets with an excited smile. “i forgot!” she exclaims, pulling out two heat packs that were warming up in her pockets, she only did it for you.
she places both of them against your cheeks and you smile happily, letting leah press little kisses to your lips again as she held the packs gently on your face, making sure not to burn you. she would whisper in conversation with you in between the kisses, your stomach lurching at her softness.
“ugh, you two make me sick” beth dry wretches, victoria and alessia laugh while watching you both pull away, “fuck off, beth” leah groans, tugging you impossibly closer as you tucked your head under her chin.
“i’ll remind you she’s my girlfriend, bethany” you tease, leah kisses your temple softly, “you think i don’t know that? you’re attached at the hip” she teases, “leave them, bethy, they’re cute” alessia coos, you send her a little wink of appreciation.
“they’re cute until you catch them fucking,” beth exclaims, you and leah both roll your eyes in unison, “you came to our home, unannounced, uninvited, with the spare key” leah grits out, holding onto you protectively. your hands rub up and down her back in an attempt to calm her down but leah was your defender.
“i told you i was coming over!” beth accuses, “you did fucking not!” leah yells, alessia and victoria laugh at the the thought of you and leah being caught. especially knowing how protective leah was of you. let’s just say a lot of yelling happened that day.
the bickering went back and forth for a bit as you and leah kept cuddling up together.
“you could have the same if you just go up to viv” leah shrugs, beth rolls her eyes at that, “i don’t need to be attached to my girlfriend to show our love” beth defends, “the kisses are nice, beth” you smile, looking up at leah with a smile.
beth chuckles and seems to give in, you and leah giggle as you watch beth run over and latch herself to viv, watching her struggle for a bit before giving up and pulling her into an embrace similar to yours and leah’s.
“we should be couple’s therapists,” you rest your chin on her chest, looking up at her with a soft smile. she kisses you softly again, “we can be whatever you want to be” she says cheekily, making you chuckle when her kisses make their way to your neck, jokingly biting you a couple of times to make you laugh.
—
whenever you and leah were in a large crowd, her true boyfriend nature came out that you just ate up. you were both at the pride of britain awards, her hand firmly planted on the small of your back as you walked around, posing for cameras on the red carpet.
when you two got pulled for interviews, leah tucked you into her side as you answered questions, she would focus on you intently, nodding along with your words and smiling proudly as you talked.
when you’d catch her gaze, her bright smile would make you falter slightly and you’d have to recover while her hand rubbed gently up and down your back.
you both answer generic interview until you approach a very special one. “it’s one nil” the interviewer says, leah and your eyes visibly widen, leah pressing her hand into your back as you both approached.
“are you joking?” leah smiles, “no it is!” the interviewer exclaims, “arsenal?” leah questions excitedly, “did you hear that?” leah grins at you, “yeah, baby i did” you chuckle affectionately, your head falling to her shoulder for a minute while she chats excitedly with the interviewer.
“this girl bleeds arsenal” you smile up at her, she nods without a second thought, showing off her earring with a proud smile.
“so, leah, if you had to pick between (y/n) and arsenal, who would you pick?” the interviewer says jokingly, though leah takes it seriously,
“now, hold on, i’m gonna go with my girl in arsenal, without a doubt” she says smugly, seemingly proud of her answer.
you laugh brightly, kissing her cheek fondly as she grins, “she was joking” you laugh, leah looks down at you cheekily, “don’t care” she taunts, her hand moving to rest on your hip to answer the rest of the interview.
you both got invited to an after party, making your rounds together with bright smiles, seeing people you haven’t seen for ages.
everytime you would talk to leah, she would bend her head to your level to make sure you were speaking directly into her ear, not wanting to miss out on anything you say.
and so, when you mentioned to leah you wanted to go home, you both left promptly with leah leading you out.
—
another instance of your girlfriend just radiating boyfriend energy was when you both needed to go on a bus for the lionesses on camp.
leah was talking to keira and georgia who she hadn’t seen in a while so you went on the bus first.
a few of the younger girls send you a wave so you go over with a bright smile. sitting next to maya as you entertained the young ones as they teased you about your love life.
it was until your girlfriend got on the bus with a little scowl at realising you left without her. “who do you think you are?” leah grumbles, grabbing your hand and dragging you out of the seat you were in to another one closer to the back.
you hear the laughs of the girls as leah drags you from your seat.
“leah!” you reprimand with a laugh, “who?” she whips her head towards you, about to shove you into the window seat.
“love,” you sigh, she smiles cheekily, “that’s better” she pushes you towards the window seat, draping your legs over hers as you both chatted.
leah snapped a photo of you and smiled at the result, adding it to her folder dedicated to you. “you’re so cute” leah coos, kissing you quickly and dropping her grumpy attitude. “you’re cuter” you grin, pressing another kiss to her lips before you snuggle up to her.
“i’m running out of storage” leah frowns, going to her camera roll and gasping at how many photos you have.
you lean over and gasp as well, grabbing her hand with the phone in it and looking at the screen, “baby, oh my god, what’ve you got in there” you laugh,
“i don’t know, let’s see” she makes you sit closer while you both went through her camera roll, laughing at some of the funnier pictures and shoving her phone down at the more explicit ones.
“i need to revisit this picture later” she winks at you when one of you and leah during that first day of captaincy. “leah cathrine” you warn, she smirks, “sorry” she coughs.
your heart quickened when you realised how many photos she had of you, making up almost all of her camera roll.
“lovey, you can delete some photos of me, half of them are duplicates” you chuckle, leah looks at you offendedly, “excuse me? they are all different” she scoffs, flicking between two nearly identical photos while pointing out little differences.
“babe, that’s the same picture” you laugh brightly, leah stifles her own laugh, “it is not! god, just break up with me then, you awful woman, can’t even have a picture of my wife in my phone without you on my ass” she grins,
“wife? i don’t remember you proposing?” you tease, “in due time, my girl” she smiles, kissing you breathlessly until you were completely flushed in the face.
“here, i’ll help you delete some photos,” you hold your hand out for her phone and she holds it instead, “you delete a single one and i’ll really break up with you” she mocks, you gasp offendedly
“i’m wounded” you pout, she makes quick work of fixing it with a kiss, “kissed it better” she grins, squeezing your thigh gently as your head fell to her shoulder.
⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆
you know the drill - just pretend it’s you, ily beffy
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leahwilliamsonn: she’s baby girl
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yourname: it was brilliant, it was powerful, it was leah williamson!!!!
↳ leahwilliamsonn: stop it
↳ yourname: never, it’s literally my job
↳ leahwilliamsonn: your job is football
↳ yourname: my job is annoying you for the rest of my life
↳ leahwilliamsonn: can’t wait xx
bethmead_: sick
↳ yourname: stop hating, bethany
↳ leahwilliamsonn: yeah, bethany
↳ viviannemiedema: yeah, bethany
↳ bethmead_: the betrayal
#woso#woso community#woso fanfics#woso x reader#woso one shot#woso imagine#leah williamson#leah williamson x reader
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Ahhhh I've been waiting for your requests to open, I've been following you since your first Price fic and never had an idea to request until like 2 weeks ago 😫 so, I've been thinking, what about being in a relationship with Keegan but getting separated when ODIN hits the earth and not meeting again until about 5 years later? 👀 Love your writing, hope you have a great day 🩵 :)
For The Weak And Weary
PAIRING: Keegan P. Russ x F!Reader
SYNOPSIS: When ODIN struck you had thought he had died, sky alight with fire. It had taken years to accept it, much less live with it. But after Dallas falls, would you get a glimpse of your Lover's phantom again?
WORDCOUNT: 6.2k
WARNINGS: Angst, depressive thoughts, PTSD insinuations, gore, wounds, blood, death, canon-typical violence, (1) suggestive joke, alcohol, hallucinations, fluffy reunion, tears, verbal arguments, etc.
A/N: Just because I'm a sucker for sticking to the game timeline I made it ten years, lol. Enjoy, Anon! Very fun prompt.
*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*
You could never make sense of what Keegan went through in 2005 during Operation Sand Viper. It would be pointless to try and wrap your head around it from what little you knew. All that mattered was that when he came back on leave, something in his eyes was…damaged. Hell, he’d only been sixteen—the both of you had known each other since you were kids, you knew when something was wrong.
And this was entirely new to you.
He smiled less and snapped more; got spooked when you dropped something in his family's kitchen like a grenade had gone off. Maybe, you reasoned, he thought one actually had.
But through it all, you could still see how much he cared about you. When you were old enough you’d both moved into a nice place in the suburbs and started a relationship—a life shared between the two of you.
You knew he loved you from the way he’d grip you close at night and breathe into your scalp. How when you were sick from the take-out dinner he’d brought home, Keegan would hold back your hair and rub circles into your spine as you threw up. He never shied away from telling you how beautiful you were; prided himself on it. Keegan loved to show you off.
But there were times back then when you wondered if the same Keegan that had been so fulfilled to join Ghosts had died, and, in fact, a phantom was instead puppeting his skin. He was so quiet now.
If you’d known that the world was going to end on July 10th, 2017, you’d have never let him walk out that door angry. You would have grabbed his hand and pressed your lips to his, whispered affirmations into his flesh and sobbed at the cruelty of it all.
“I can’t keep pretending that you’re okay!” You yell, tears in your eyes, at the man standing tense in the kitchen doorway. Blank blue eyes stare lifelessly. “Keegan—this is killing you.”
It was early morning by then, and the neighborhood was quiet. The house that the both of you had moved into years ago was littered with the remnants of a happy home. Pictures on the walls, dishes in the sink, and freshly baked bread on the counter. All you’d tried to do was give Keegan a hug, slipping your hands around his waist when you’d entered.
He’d balked back, jerking to the side and nearly elbowed you in the gut before he saw your wide eyes and stopped himself. The way he’d looked at you…how could eyes be so dead?
“You need to talk to someone,” you put your foot down, shaking your head. “I-I don’t know a therapist or…or someone who can get you proper help because I can’t keep acting like I can live like this.”
Every mission, every time he went away, it always got worse.
Keegan’s eyes get sharp, hands at his sides clenching. He speaks in a low growl. “I don’t need to talk to a shrink, alright? I’m fine, you just startled me.”
“Bullshit,” your mouth hisses, glaring. “You thought you were back in ‘05.”
The man points at you, strong jaw clenching, “Don’t.”
“Keegan,” you plead, “please, I love you! I don’t care about this, I just want you to be alright. To be able to live your life—”
“What you want is to try and change me!” The black-haired man barks. Your eyes blink in shock. Keegan rarely yelled. “I already told you I was fine, why don’t you get off my back all the time?” His eyes flash, pupils going to slits as his hands shake at his sides. Why did he look scared? Your breath stills, lips slightly open, with tears dripping to the tile. “Fuck, it’s like I can’t come home without you pesterin’ me ‘bout something!”
A stiff silence falls.
“Kee—” He snaps a hand to his mouth and rubs at his stubble, suddenly unable to look at you.
“...Forget it.” It’s low and shaky how he says it, eyes wide, before he darts into the foyer and slips into his boots. You listen to the sounds of panicked shuffling before the man wrenches open the front door and slams it shut behind him. One of the picture frames falls and hits the ground with a shattering of glass.
You flinch and tense, taking down a terse breath and sniffling tightly. Trying to get your lungs to work properly, your feet take you over to the picture as they feel weak and uneven; a stuttering mess of steps before you bend down. Your fingers bleed as they shift the glass away, taking out the image of you and Keegan on your hike through the mountains.
Smiling faces mock you, and you break at the bright and open affection Keegan wears as he looks down at you—eyebrows curved up and smirk like a knife to the chest.
You loved him so much it hurt to breathe when he was away.
He had needed time, you knew, but what you didn’t know was that time wouldn’t be available. Around noon the world had opened into a ball of fire and death. 27 million dead. Los Angeles, San Diego, Phoenix, Houston, and Miami…all gone…at least, that was what everyone in Dallas was telling you.
When Keegan had been away taking a walk to calm himself, you’d been home alone. The earth caved, the ground shook; houses burst like balloons. By the time you’d crawled from the rubble of your home, all you had was the picture and the clothes on your back. People were screaming—you were screaming. But you knew that you couldn’t stay here if you wanted to survive.
And then you’d made it to Dallas by sheer luck and the few tricks Keegan had taught you; had thought that he had died in that first strike by the Federation. You carried that guilt and self-hatred for not holding your tongue for a few more hours.
So much could have been different in these ten years. Better. You never got over him for even a second.
But the reality was that you couldn’t think about all of that now, because if you didn’t focus on holding your breath you would be dead in the next three seconds.
Your hand is anchored to the body of your sniper rifle, finger hovering over the trigger as you hide behind the outcropping of rubble in the decimated cityscape; the air is hot and humid despite the weight of the night. It sticks to your skin in a sheen of violent sweat. Yet it’s still not as potent as the blood.
Teeth gritted, you hold back whimpers as Federation soldiers stalk the grounds, scores of them—legions. An entire army that had breached the walls and executed everyone insight, soldiers, civilians, if it once moved it didn’t anymore. The burning in your shoulder was agonizing, head smashing itself back to the rubble in an attempt to stifle your own ragged need to scream into the night as layers had peeled back to allow a bullet to pass through.
In the ten years you’d been here, you’d taken up the mantle of quite the sharpshooter; pulling on Keegan’s lessons when he was on leave and wanted to bring you to the firing range. You had even picked a rifle similar to the one back in your destroyed home—held in a plastic case and treated like royalty by your long-deceased lover. It wasn’t the same, but the jet-black Lynx made you steady like the picture in your breast pocket did.
A reminder of what was lost and why you had picked the knock-off up in the first place.
Footsteps get closer as the sweep of a flashlight cards above your skull, if possible you go even more still, lips pulled in and heart rampaging. There were barked orders and yelling, but no more screaming.
How long had you been unconscious after taking that shot to the shoulder? Fear was breeding with horror—was…was everyone dead?
Spanish is loudly called not five feet away, and the flashlight leaves as your breath does. You let off a quiet gasp and suck down air greedily. Eyes flashing from one shadow to another, you look for any opportunity to slip away from the city. In the wind, you could smell fire, and taste it on your tongue as you licked your lips.
All around you can see the limp shadows of bodies and the apartments, large skyscrapers were on fire deep in their frames. The city was entirely lost.
How the federation got into the walls you would never know, though there was concern about the enemy soldiers rounding up civilians outside the walls and executing them. Maybe one cracked before the bullet entered their skull.
You bite hard into your lip to force back your pain. Trying to shoot a rifle would be useless at this point, you might as well have lost the limb. Slinging the gun’s strap over your head, you look back and forth along your visible perimeter, checking for hostiles as you unsheathe your combat knife and cradle your limp arm to your chest.
If only Keegan could see you now.
Rounds of gunfire make the air burn with urgency, and you take the time to peek out behind as sweat makes a trail down your dirty face, dripping off of your chin as you breathe like a wheezing dog. Your wound needed tending, and you had the med pack on your vest with the supplies, but you can’t do it here.
Where’s safe? If Dallas has fallen…is there anywhere that’s still standing? A location hits your brain as your gaze darts from one abandoned street to another. You take a deep breath and whine as you force your legs to stand and move quickly, feet shifting as quietly as you’re able to make them.
“Fort Santa Monica.” Now a stronghold, you’d heard US soldiers here talking about the large presence of military power out in California—numbers so great they rivaled those that had lived in Dallas.
You stumble over a spasming body and slam your uninjured shoulder into the bulk of the building’s wall, groaning loudly like a wounded boar.
“Fuck!” If you made it out of the city, that would be where you would have to go; to warn them of what was coming. The Federation had found a way inside the Dallas wall, and that meant if they had enough tenacity, they could do it to them too.
Everything would be done if another city fell.
Holding your knife tighter, you push off the wall and grit your teeth harder, mind running on that edge of hysteria and forced calm. It’s in these moments where you have to pull on old memories to keep you going—even if they end up hurting more than the open wounds you carry.
Keegan had his bad moments, but you always got through them together. Years and years of knowing each other inside and out; memorizing bodies and thoughts like they were second nature. He would want you to keep fighting, tell you to get your ass in gear and go…and you would never let him down.
You owed him that much even if some days you wanted more than anything to join him.
Blade in hand, you hear muttered speech from up the alleyway and pause, feet splayed but still swaying as you come to a slow stop. Your ears ring at garbled sentences, foreign words spilling into one another.
Panting, you listen closely, limbs vibrating. More gunfire echoes over the air, screams and death that get ingrained into your head like a brand into sizzling flesh. Skyscrapers burned and buildings fell with great earthquake booms. Everything is under a sheen of distance.
Get out of the city. Get to Fort Santa Monica.
“Kill who I have to,” you slur out, itching at your neck as you leave a trail of blood behind you. A single pair of footsteps walk quickly forward near your corner and you hold your breath, bringing up your knife as pain pounds in your arm.
Deep blue eyes sit in the back of your mind, counting you down as they always did.
Keep your arm steady for me, Doll, a phantom tells you. Breathe...
When the first shadow of a Fed soldier graces your eyes, you strike.
—
It’s roughly nineteen days from Dallas to Santa Monica, and that was if you kept up at a steady walking pace. If the crude sling you’d fashioned from bandages found in your med pack was any indicator, it would be double that.
On the first day, you had hiked half-dead over the destroyed landscape of what remained of the USA, licking your wounds and counting your losses. You’d had your pick of abandoned houses, taking a red brick one just because it looked nice and you were about to pass out from blood loss. The only reason you’d made it this far was that the bullet had thankfully passed right through you, making sure that if you moved too suddenly no more damage was being done internally. You packed it with a sterile rag.
Sitting in the home, pictures gathering dust on the fireplace mantle, you tipped back a bottle of whisky you’d found in one of the bedrooms, grimacing at the sting. It was better to be drunk for what you were about to do.
Heating up your combat knife in the fire you had started in the hearth, you watched the metal grow an eye-flinching white as you stared off into nothingness.
“You remember when you showed me that scar, Keegan?” You always talked to him. Others had given you shit for it, but they knew the purpose. If you didn’t talk to someone, even a ghost, you would give up.
The guilt was eating you alive, and it would overtake you eventually. Hadn’t in ten years, but it would…you knew it, everyone did.
Keegan was everything, and nothing looked the same when you lost him.
“The one on your thigh?” Pulling the knife back, you turn to the leaking flesh of your shoulder, gushing blood as black desecrates the sides of your eyes. You’d taken off your vest and shirt. If you tried hard enough you could imagine Keegan standing in the corner, watching. Always watching. “You said you had to dig a bullet out and cauterize the wound—when I asked you said you barely felt it over all the adrenaline.”
The ghost tilts its head, eyes sad and lips pulling taunt. Your lungs take in a shaky inhale and your hand quivers; only you feel how your eyes burn with unshed tears.
“I never thought about it before,” right as you growl and shove the knife into your skin, you bark out in fear, “But I think you were fucking lying!”
On day two, you knew you had to avoid the remains of Fort Worth, so you decided to increase your distance and cut that landmark out entirely—too many remnants of Federation. They were everywhere now, and you needed to keep low; get out of Texas. You scavenged properties and took stock.
Four magazines for your Lynx, a pouch with five protein bars, one bottle of water attached to your belt, and your knife. Normally you’d have a pistol at your thigh, but you’d used it up in the firefight back home. When you’d woken back up, it had been gone.
And, of course, you had the picture. You kissed Keegan’s face and placed it back in your breast pocket, caressing the material softly before clearing your throat and addressing the obvious.
With what you had getting to California was a pipe dream.
You’d been on the radio all day, clicking through channels and pleading for anyone alive to reach out. Nothing. Static.
I’m the only one left. The thought was intoxicating, pounding in your skull like your hangover. Everyone is dead.
While you had become somewhat of a loner in the last ten years, especially with the few months you’d been by yourself in the beginning, Dallas had given you a chance to build bonds again. Ten years, and in an instant it was all wiped out.
It rang a devastating bell.
Somehow, you had cheated death where so many others had failed—not only in Texas, but back with ODIN too. You had survived, but somehow Keegan hadn’t.
Keegan, the one who never spoke about ‘05 and jerked awake from nightmares years later because of it. Keegan, who wanted nothing more than to stay at your side when he was home and keep you on his chest when watching movies. Keegan, the love of your life.
The only love of your life.
“I really wish you were here,” you mutter, grimacing as your arm gets jostled as you stumble over a piece of rusted metal in the empty street. “Who gave you the right to go away before me, huh? We were supposed to grow old together, Russ. You promised me that.”
Garbage gets blown over the road when a hot breeze shifts the air, bringing the scent of dirt and the noise of rustling trees. Nature has reclaimed the towns and suburbs—great patches of ivy and long grass that rise to your hips. But the silence was a curse.
The only thing keeping you going is the thought of delivering your warning to Santa Monica, from there…
Your lips thinned. What even was there left? How many times could you go from one place to another, starting over with stories of your past and having to brush the pitying looks off as you fake a smile?
Shaking your head, you recall memories from the better days as the light gets low in the sky.
“You’re doin’ too much, Sweet Thing,” Keegan mutters, and you turn from the stove top with a bright smile to face him.
He had just gotten out of the shower, towel ruffling through his dark hair as he stands in the kitchen entrance and watches you cook for him. The shirt hangs off of his wide shoulders, and gray sweatpants are loose over his formed hips—his strong brow line raises in a casual expression.
“Oh, don’t act like you don’t like it,” you tease, hearing his low chuckles as you turn back to your pan. “You look good, y’know.”
“Oh, yeah?” Keegan grunts, smirking, and his feet pad over to you, tossing the towel to the counter as his presence looms over your back. Large hands grab onto your hips and a nose burrows into your hair; inhaling deeply before gradually melting to the curve of your spine.
You smile and hum, pushing back so you can rest on his chest. A chin sets itself on your head, deep massaging fingers making you pur as they bunch your sleep shorts.
It was late—nearly two in the morning. Keegan had only gotten home a short while ago, but sleep wasn’t going to stop you from spoiling him. A wine bottle was on the island counter, two glasses, and the food was nearly done from what you could scrounge up on short notice.
“...Good to be back,” the man grumbles into you, kissing your head and slowly sweeping his arms around your waist as you sighed softly at the contact.
Your face gains heat.
“Well, I’d sure hope so, or else this would be awkward.” You huff to hide the bright smile in your voice. But like a moth to flame, you hear, as well as feel, Keegan chuckle against your spine. His grip squeezes you for a moment.
“How was it when I was away?” He asks as you move around the contents in the pan, nose brushing your neck as his lips travel to kiss behind your ear. He breathes against the flesh as his low rasp makes you shiver. “Any trouble?”
“Negative, Sergeant,” you raise a brow and smirk over your shoulder at him, seeing his blues spark as he gazes hard into your eyes. A faint twitch to his lips is what you get before his hand captures your cheek; anchoring your face as he descends to connect his mouth to yours.
He sighs into it, arm still around your waist—tight as if you were a pillow.
“Keep talkin’ like that and we won’t have to wait long for dessert, will we?”
Days three through seven were uneventful beyond the constant agony of your arm and tired legs, but on day eight amid a waterless walk in the sweltering heat was when the hallucinations began.
Keegan walks beside you, his footsteps mirroring your own as sweat pools down your forehead and drips off your nose. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t look at you—he just walks, looking exactly like he did the day he died.
At first, you’d flinched back and blinked wildly at the sight, panting, but then he’d disappeared and your heart had shattered. It worried you with what you were seeing, but it was also a strange comfort to be able to ramble to…something, even if it wasn’t real. Hungry and with a dry tongue, you were on the verge of calling it quits.
So on day eleven, without a wild animal in sight to give you a proper food source and all the water having to be purified, you started talking to him while licking the inside wrapper of your last protein bar.
“But I never understood why you hated sleeping in shirts,” you licked your lips to get the remnants of granola off of your flesh, pushing away the greasy sheen from your cheeks. Your arm was burning up—every heartbeat was felt as it moved the skin around red and infected flesh up and down. Puss was leaking out from the crude stitches you had made of embroidery thread from that first house you’d found.
“And you always kept the room freezing.” Continuing, you drop the wrapper to the ground and then take the meat of your fingers and get what little flavor you can off of them, grunting through realization. “That was a ploy to have me use you for heat, wasn’t it? Jesus.”
The man in the corner of your vision smirks, tilting his head and chuckling from where he leans against a tree trunk.
“Yeah, that’s right. Knew it.” Glaring at nothing, you stand from your overturned stump and nearly fall right back over, stomach yelling at you as your vision swirls.
You dig a hand into your hair and grip at the strands, pulling and groaning. “...God.”
Keegan comes over and stands above you, your eyes staring down at his feet as you get light-headed. You focus on his shoelaces, counting the Xs and taking down shaky breaths. When you blink like a cat with dirt on its face, the shoes are gone entirely and you stand back up to your full height.
“...Keegan?” You ask after a moment, the words disappearing into the trees, but no one’s around.
Your sight goes to your wound and your jaw tightens, moments of clarity slipping in as a knife would into your consciousness before the curtain settles once more.
You bend over and vomit what little nutrients you had, spending day twelve sleeping through a fit of nightmares and fever-induced delirium.
Nothing about the remainder of the time you can recall to memory—bits and pieces always flash through on long nights, but they’re only walking montages. Dragging feet, looking at your hand as if it was a foreign object as you turned it back and forth; everything in a sheen of sickness. Days and days and days. Little food. Less water.
More than one-thousand miles.
But somehow, the Wall peels out in front of you as you crash through the foliage, your body giving out and collapsing down a large decline. Bouncing and getting jostled by rocks, you come to a stop without the strength to get back up, staring blankly ahead as your head connects with concrete. Your mouth is open in broken inhales, pain not even registering.
Shouts echo, the pound of rapid feet.
Green eyes meet yours, a youthful face with a beanie and stubble. He’s saying something to you, glancing over your gear and your obvious near-death situation—his hand jostles the side of your face. But your eyes shift behind him gradually, attention falling to someone more important.
Before you finally let yourself rest, you stare at the smiling face of your steadfast phantom.
—
The doctors and nurses at Fort Santa Monica were nice, if a bit secretive about the entire operation. Seeing as you weren’t an official soldier, no dog tags or patches—no name in the database—everyone was a bit hesitant to tell you anything.
Until you said you were from Dallas, of course.
But no one was eager to rush you in your state, even if the information was dire. You had been hooked up to an IV and bedridden for a week straight; talking to nothing on account of the dehydration and electrolyte imbalances. Some days you spend unconscious.
But what really pissed you off when you got back into it, was the fact that they had taken your Lynx and your gear—your picture.
You’d almost grappled onto the first nurse you’d seen when you’d woken without it. It was a beacon, your prized possession of damaged corners and taped tears. Water damage that may or may not have been from sobbing fits in the first five years.
In fact, that was the entire reason you had snuck out so late in the first place.
Stalking down the hallway in the white shirt and camo pants that had been given to you on the fifth morning you had woken up here, you pad along with no shoes, only plain gray socks. You limp with bandaged flesh all along your healing shoulder and your feet.
The doctor had explained that you’d entirely skinned the bottoms and your heels were a mess of blisters and open wounds.
“Take my property,” you grumble under your breath, shuffling along and rubbing at the back of your neck. “What gives them the right?”
You weren’t going to stop until you found it.
Reading the name tags on the walls, you silently wonder where they would have taken your stuff as you slip out of the medical ward, listening to the buzzing of the lights and frowning. As you’re limping along the next hallway, a man suddenly turns the corner on nearly silent feet.
“Woah!” You halt immediately, heart jumping in your chest. A hand catches your shoulder before you run headlong into him.
Green eyes lock with your own, wide and blinking quickly. Brows furrow and you’re quickly looked over before a slow, teasing remark enters the air, you listen with a growing heat on your neck.
“Y’know, I could have sworn you were supposed to be in bed, Ma’am. I miss something here?” The man who had found you.
“Wouldn’t know,” you say blandly, blinking up at him and taking a careful step back. This brunette had a casual air to him—still in his gear despite the time. He folds his arms and tilts his head at you, smirking. “If you’ll excuse me.”
You begin to walk forward, slipping past him and hoping you won’t get snitched on. Except it seems you’ll be having a shadow, as not a few seconds later a smooth chuckle meets your ears and the man walks beside you.
“I think I’ll be taggin’ along if you don’t mind. Security and all.” He turns to face you, sticking out his opposite hand. “Hesh.”
“That supposed to be some kind of nickname, Kid?” You raise a stiff brow but participate in the handshake nonetheless. His grip is firm but not hard.
Hesh blinks at you, eyes swimming with amusement before he shrugs in a boyish way and shakes his head with a laugh. “Hell, you remind me of someone, Ma’am.” A moment passes in silence as you study the area. The man huffs, “Where exactly are we off to?”
“Wonderland,” your lips grumble, tired and wanting to sleep but not until you find your picture. Hesh sighs but you can still hear the hilarity inside of it.
“Alright then…don’t know if you’re going to be finding a shrinking potion anytime soon, though. We’re in low stock.”
“Very funny,” your eyes send a dry look, but you relent when he prods you with his eyes, taking a corner. “I’m looking for my vest.” Hesh blinks at you in curiosity, letting you elaborate as you motion to your upper shoulder. “My pouch has some of my personal belongings. I don’t like being away from it.”
“Oh,” the brunette nods a few times, his beanie jerking along. “Yeah, that’s no problem.” A hand is waved and you stare in confusion as he pivots. “C’mon, I’ll get you there.”
Your eyes burn into his back before you immediately speed after.
“Why so eager to help?” Hesh smirks at your question.
“As I see it, if you went over nineteen days of hard hiking just to get to us, you should at least be able to keep your stuff on you, Ma’am.” Your lips flicker in a smile.
“You’d be the first.” You tell him your name and miss the slight emotion it provokes in his eyes, head lightly pulling to the side but ultimately saying nothing. Hesh shrugs with a grunt, leading you to a meeting room on the opposite side of the building.
Yelling is on the other side.
“Elias, how long has this been kept from me?!” The voice makes your head perk, evoking something inside of your chest. Hesh seems taken aback too, holding up a hand to you for momentary silence—not that you had to be told.
“Keegan, I can’t have that happen. She needs to recover and you being there could jeopardize that. We need what she knows about Dallas.” Your body stills to a near-frozen state, and it’s comedic how your entire face falls to a blank slate. Wait a second.
…Keegan?
“She belongs with me—I thought she fucking died and she’s been here for who knows how long?! Why wasn’t I informed?” Rampaging feet suddenly sound off, going to the door at break-neck speed.
“Son, that’s not a good idea. This is what I was worried would happen if you found out.”
“I didn’t exactly ask, did I? As far as I’m concerned, nothing else matters besides getting back to my Girl,” the bark is ferocious and violent, more of an animal’s than a man’s. “Now where the hell did you put her before I tear this damn fort apart and—” You shove at the door before Hesh can grab you, throwing it open and letting it hit the opposite wall with a great boom of wood.
Your wild eyes instantaneously lock into sharp blues, pulse pounding in your ears. It’s like all the air is taken from your lungs in a great punch.
Oh, he’s so similar to how you remembered him to be ten years ago.
Keegan stands only a few feet away, turned in your direction with his eyes so wide and small you might faint. There’s black face paint in his sockets, making the cerulean all the more bright and shocking to the senses. He’s still tall, still built, if only a bit more rugged than when ODIN struck—there are lines on his forehead and his scars are more faded. Small differences in the way he holds himself like the difference between a rabbit and a hare. Keegan’s black locks are shorter now, but still…his.
Lips part in silent shock, an entire halt of your nervous system.
The entire universe holds its tongue as you two stare at each other; walls and rooms blur into a mess of matter and reality—this couldn’t be real.
Keegan’s feet shift for a moment as if to steady himself as his fingers twitch. In his hand, he holds your picture, his body covered in gear and weapons. He blinks as you tell yourself he’s a phantom, simply that same ghost come back to haunt you as tears sting the backs of your eyes. But then he speaks, and it’s the same voice you had slowly lost the ability to remember in year three.
“...Sweetheart?”
His ghost never spoke. His ghost could not imitate the phonics of his speech or the rhythm of his throat. His ghost could not make you recall the memories you’d long since boxed up.
You jerk forward just as he does, bodies colliding into a feral grip of flesh and fabric, hands latching and faces burying. Sobs rip from you as Keegan’s shaky breath echoes right next to your ear—his chest hitching and arms snatching your waist and lifting you up as easily as he always had. He holds you up without any thought of putting you down, legging your legs dangle as Elias slowly exits the room and corrals a highly confused Hesh with him.
The door shuts, but neither of you notices.
“Keegan—” Your voice is high with emotion, hardly believing what you're seeing—what you’re touching. “Oh, my God.”
He had been alive all this time? Ten whole years and you’d thought he was dead. But by the way he was barely letting you breathe from in his iron clutch, you imagined Keegan had thought the same about you. It was…incomprehensible.
“Shh,” he whispers, his shushes cracking and flinching between broken gasps of your name. “Shh.” He sets you down on the floor only to have his firm hands travel to your cheeks, turning your head to each side in a desperate need to understand if you were really there.
Keegan’s eyes are wet, but no tears let themselves fall quite yet.
“I’m so sorry!” You hiccup and the man kisses your cheeks—your browline and nose. Every piece of you he can as you both stay so intimate you might melt into one another. “I thought you were gone, I-I should have stayed and looked for you, I didn’t—”
“You’re alive?” Keegan’s hands rub across your body, gripping and tugging you closer and closer. “My Girl’s alive?”
His tears drip to your face as he hovers above you, and you both shake with the weight of years.
“Me?” Your chuckle through sobs—you want to scream and wail at the same time. Blue eyes flutter and ragged breaths puff on your forehead. “What about you, you asshole?”
Keegan shakes his head, and you stare deeply into him, hands coming up to cup his cheeks as he sags forward. He had stubble now, spreading out to grate your flesh.
The man forces a weak huff.
“Christ,” is all he mutters before he presses his lips to yours in a kiss so unyielding you expect to have your air stolen. Ten years to feel him kissing you again—to feel his warm flesh under your hands and his heart rampage into you.
You’d do it all over if it still amounted to this.
Your body shivers and you reciprocate with just as much fervor; this emotion of relief is so overwhelming and all-consuming that it makes your head light. You suck down quick breaths between the sensation of your lips meeting, Keegan doing the same.
Unconsciousness was better than letting him leave again, your lover sharing that sentiment as chests slid against one another. Soft hair slips through your fingers as you grip Keegan’s hair, cascading through locks as he groans into your lips and tries to hide his tears from you.
He pulls away and immensely shoves his head into your neck.
“You’re here,” he whispers quickly. A hand quivers at the back of your head as your tears wet his gear. “You’re right here. You came back to me, didn’t you, Doll?”
You cry, “I’m here, Keegan.” The man sobs when he hears you say his name, his knees giving out as you both fall to the floor and not letting the other move beyond the caress of skin and lips.
“I missed you,” Keegan gasps, “so much. Don’t you understand? I was nothing without you. You took it all from me, everything. Every damn thing.”
You press kisses to his neck and racing pulse, healing him inside and out without even realizing it; it was only fair, he was doing the same back to you.
The picture lays long forgotten on the floor.
“Never let me go,” your voice forces out, as he rocks you back and forth like a child. “Never again, Keegan. Please, I love you too much to go through that again.”
“Never,” he immediately promises, pulling back and kissing your lips again—neither can stop themselves from this. Blues eyes blink quickly, cataloging your face and every little blemish he’d have to relearn and study; to find the story behind. Keegan had never been happier. He felt like he might break from it. “Over my dead body, I’m never lettin’ you out of my sight. You’re stuck with me.”
You laugh genuinely for the first time in ten years and say you’d like nothing better as he pulls you back in and plants his mouth to yours in reverent worship. His arms trapping you to him as yours do just the same.
Not to leave again anytime soon.
TAGS:
@luuvbuzz, @emerald-valkyrie, @anna-banana27, @blueoorchid, @cryingnotcrying, @writeforfandoms, @homicidal-slvt, @jade-jax, @frazie99, @elmoees, @littlemisstrouble, @alpineswinter, @phoenixhalliwell, @idocarealot, @lavalleon, @facelessmemories, @h-leigh, @20forty9, @glitter-anon-asks, @emily-who-killed-a-man, @neelehksttr, @aeneanc, @escapefromrealitysm, @i-d-1-0-t, @pparcxysm, @hawkscanendme, @caramlizedtomatos, @konigsleftkidney, @sanfransolomitatm, @maelstrom007, @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet, @pheobees, @glitterypirateduck, @uselsshuman, @fan-of-encouragement, @halfmoth-halfman, @ghostlythunderbird, @I-inkage, @pukbadger, @kopatych11, @0nceinabluem00n, @cocrorapop, @knightofsexyness, @abnormalgeil, @smallseastone, @jacegons, @330bpm-whiplash, @simon-rileys-housewife, @4-atsu, @tiredmetalenthusiast
#cod#cod x reader#cod x you#call of duty#x female reader#call of duty keegan#call of duty x reader#call of duty x you#cod keegan#keegan p russ#keegan x reader#keegan russ#keegan x you#keegan russ x reader#keegan p russ x reader#call of duty ghosts#cod ghosts x reader#cod ghosts#cod keegan russ#cod fic#cod fanfic#cod x female reader#x fem!reader
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the longer i look at this panel the more deranged i feel about it. this is environmental storytelling at its finest.
the eodio stand-in doll in particular makes me crazy. where did it come from? did thistle just pop into the village like "hey ungrateful wretches, one of you needs to make me a life-sized mannequin, For Reasons". did he make it himself? seems quite unlikely, yet the possibility haunts me. i mean, i guess there could've been one just lying around the dungeon somewhere. it's the act of replacement itself that really gets to me. (edit: it's been pointed out to me that the eodio doll also could have been left behind as part of delgal's escape plan. slightly different kind of madness but tbh, just as funny-sad to me if that happened and thistle went Ok, Guess That's Eodio Now.)
both the wives are there too. we know very little about them, which makes me tend to assume thistle wasn't all that close to them, but they're still included. when did they end up here? did he kick their souls out of their bodies at some point, or were they among those who left their bodies voluntarily to try and escape? when did yaad become an effective orphan, delgal an effective widower? women in the margins of the narrative, tell me your stories!
and the fact that they're surrounded with the living paintings, which thistle habitually wanders through to relive the past. this truly is his inner sanctum, his place of utmost comfort... and it may as well be a tomb.
that panel is so creepy when you first see it. just a sense of "ohh jeez, there's a lot to unpack there".
and actually, yeah, it remains creepy from pretty much any angle, but the more you think about it the more it's also tragic.
this is where many of thistle's happiest moments took place. everything he had in that picture is now gone. first he lost their warm regard, then one-by-one their bodies became hollow shells. before the end, none of the people here needed or enjoyed food anymore. the dinner table, as a center of both family life and nutrition, became obsolete.
a line from someone else's excellent post about thistle has stuck in my head ever since i read it: "to eat is to live, but to eat together is to be loved". to me, this is the sentiment and symbolism at the core of everything that happens in dungeon meshi.
it makes this bit all the sadder and more disturbing.
there's several things to note here:
thistle has gone from seated and eating with them as part of the family, to a lonely and ominous figure hovering over delgal's shoulder
eodio is conspicuously absent from view, and his body would have been a husk by now, but yaad says parents, which forces me to assume that they are sitting at the table with eodio's soulless body, hidden under yaad's speech bubble
they're not actually eating anything.
those plates are empty. you could assume that they've already finished eating, maybe, but yaad refers to it as sitting around the dinner table. in fact, he compares it to what he's currently doing; sitting at the dinner table watching the touden party eat, not eating anything himself.
it paints a pretty grim picture. for some time even after the fantasy had fallen apart, even after there was no need or desire to eat, they kept gathering around the dinner table. at that point, i'd guess only so as not to provoke thistle's wrath.
but even that last happened a long, long time ago.
this is a callback to what senshi said in the golden kingdom: the reason the people keep maintaining their fields and silverware and so forth is that they need to do so in order to stay sane.
paradoxically, the dinner table is the most striking evidence of thistle's insanity, and at the same time, it's the only anchor to sanity he has left.
he kept enforcing the ritual of dinner together long after it lost significance. when even that was impossible- because almost everyone's souls were gone- he kept their bodies at the table anyway. it's fine. it's fine! he's protected them, physically, just like he set out to. they're all still breathing. at a glance it looks like they could wake up and resume dinner at any moment. like this, it's easy to pretend.
isn't that what being a dungeon lord is, at the core of it? rejecting reality, staying in the prison of one's impossible desires. it's just one long game of pretend.
thistle did all this to protect his loved ones. no matter how obsessive and twisted he became in pursuit of that over the years, his core motivation never changed. this is all he has left of that dream: his loved ones' bodies gathered around the locus of their happiest memories together. like this, he can tell himself he's succeeded.
when eodio's body vanished with delgal's soul in it- when he couldn't even have that anymore... well.
i want to reach through the screen and shake him. no, they're not, thistle. THISTLE, NO, THEY'RE NOT! the doll of eodio is the closest thing to him in this panel, underlining the point. when that final illusion was shattered, he became completely unable to cope with reality.
therefore replacing eodio with a creepy doll and casually forgetting it isn't real.
thistle isn't stupid. eodio's body vanished at the same time as delgal's soul. shortly after, more adventurers came pouring in than ever before. deep down, he knows what happened. if he didn't, being confronted with the truth by mithrun wouldn't have made him panic so hard he summoned chimera falin to the first floor.
yet still...
he absolutely can't admit that to himself. he is clinging to the last scraps of the illusion with everything he has.
this is a dungeon lord at the end of desire. this is a lotus-eater machine left running long after its conclusion. this is mithrun lying listlessly in his bed, his replica lover having given up any pretense of being human. the illusion is all that's left. (an illusion is all it ever was.) thistle and the citizens of the golden kingdom- they're ghosts just as much as the ones who wander the dungeon floors. and if it weren't for thistle sealing the lion away, he would've been eaten by it long ago.
all of this encapsulated by that single panel of the dinner table.
#dungeon meshi#dungeon meshi spoilers#thistle#delgal#yaad#eodio#winged lion#meta#long post#aphelion.txt#dunmeshi#sorry. i am so incredibly not normal about any of it
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bro make a fanfic about the reader and the ghost/konig WHEN THE READER WAS SHOT IN THE BUN ON THE MISSION AHAHAHHHAH LMAO (in the military helicopter when they were supposed to return, the reader was holding her butt, moaning, writhing in pain and trying to hide the pain)
That is a funny thought…
Shots
Cw: gun violence, bb shots, tell me if I missed any.
You yelped when you were hit is the ass, flinching forward and raising your arm just as you turned to glare at whoever landed the shot. Your right cheek exploded in soreness, tingling from the sharp pain of a BB shot.
“Hit!” You called it, letting your rifle hang from your shoulder as you rubbed your right cheek, grumbling about the bastard, “On my fucking ass of all places.”
You walk towards the respawn with your arm up, still cussing out whoever shot you in the ass. You had a hunch about the shooter: Soap, who else had enough courage to shoot you in the ass. You doubted Gaz did it, he might’ve been tempted, but he preferred other type of pranks, more mischievous ones like tampering with the washer or drinks, harmless but hilarious. Soap, however, rarely knew the limit, going as far as stealing and hiding your stuff, tapping you in the ass or messing up your head while he cackled away, speeding off to Ghost or Price to escape your wrath.
You reasoned that this was a staged scenario, a small group activity Laswell came up with that landed your Task Force somewhere in France for game of airsoft, a Free for all in the reserved location. No one had complained, thinking it a good activity mixing fun, training and awareness —everyone agreed to it enthusiastically once Ghost had voiced his grumpy acceptance, seeing this as a moment to be able to training without the prying eyes of others or the presence of strangers. Once you reached the spawn point, your jump back in to land a few shots at Soap to see whether or not he liked getting his ass bruised by a BB. You walked off determined, mind narrowed down to a single goal, your retaliation—
Until you yipped a second time, a pellet bouncing off your second cheek. You whipped around, yelling as your eyes scoured the tree line and the openings in the buildings behind you, the windows, the roof and behind pillars. You couldn’t find Soap anywhere, he wasn’t hiding behind the trees or in the buildings, but you did catch the glint of a scope —a familiar sniper scope.
“Ghost, you son of a bitch!” You screamed in outrage, feeling how both cheeks throbbed with pain. You bared your teeth, hissing at your Lieutenant who seemed smug and comfortable in his high perch on the roof of the building, “Why’d you do that?! I was already out!”
”Big target, luv,” his amused voice cracked in your comm, the low rumble of sadistic pleasure ringing out in your headgear. He cocked his scope, his white mask standing starkly in his dark gear and broad figure, “Impossible to miss. Quit moaning.”
“Big target? Are you-!” Huffing at his continued laughter, you glared his way before you turned to hurry back to the respawn, “Let’s see who’s laughing later, you ass.”
“Fuck- Hit!”
Your shoulders shook with restrained laughter, admiring the way Ghost jumped from your perch, hidden in the darkness given by the cement wall. You listened to him hiss and swear, massaging the place you aimed for: the pronounced curve of his ass, his jeans rarely doing him the pleasure of hiding what he had.
“Quit moaning, Ghost,” you cackled as you parroted his words, telling him the same thing as he told you, but you had more to add, more to taunt and tease him as revenge, “Couldn’t miss it, Lt, it was a big fucking target.”
You watched him stomp off, retreating to the tree line for his spawn point. It filled with a sense of elation and ugly smugness, and all that was left now, was to find Soap.
“Steamin’ Jesus!” Johnny’s yelp felt more exciting than Ghost, something you could devour over and ove without regret.
“Not so fun, is it, Johnny?” You smirked, replying with a gleeful tone.
He looked red-faced, the tip of his ears turning a bright shade of red from the way you spoke to him, utilising his known weakness and playing him to watch him stutter and flush brightly.
“Awa’ a bile yer heid! That hurt, lass!” His voice had taken a whinier tone, face screwed in embarrassment and something that you couldn’t put your finger on at this distance.
“I know, shouldn’t have shot me in the ass then.”
Gaz tapped you on the shoulder, a smile threatening to break into chuckles. He’d known what happened to you and knew what you did in retaliation, finding amusement after siding with you, sitting beside you and peering at two frowning and mumbling men.
“Heard you had a lot of fun.”
“Not enough.”
You thought you heard Price sigh tiredly.
taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @aldis-nuts @randominstake @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx
#x reader#cod mw2#cod mw2 x reader#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost mw2#simon riley x reader#soap mw2#john soap mactavish#soap x reader#gaz mw2#kyle gaz garrick#gaz x reader#task force 141 x reader#task force 141#poly 141#captain john price#captain price#price mw2#captain price x reader
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BUT DADDY, I LOVE HIM
– pairing | wanda maximoff x fem! reader
– synopsis | you and wanda come back from a very successful first mission together and decide to celebrate in the shower.
– warnings | soo if you’re a mutual dnr (jk), this is literal filth, dom/sub dynamic, spanking mention, fingering (both! receiving), face slapping, mommy kink of courseee, pet play, dub con kinda(?) bc she forces you to pee… so piss kink🤠, dacryphilia, oral (w! receiving), some aftercare and cute lil fluff moment at the end as wanda wraps you in her towels bc she’s so mommy! :3 (18+)
– notes | i honestly have nothing to say about this other than i wanted to try something new and out of my comfort zone. it was supposed to be a blurb but ended being over 2.6k so enjoy lmao >.<
It was your first mission as a couple. Unsurprisingly, it went well. To your core, you knew you’d both be fine. Wanda's leadership and responsibility were unwavering, and you knew deep down that you'd both succeed. Yet, your anxiety had waged its own battle, inundating you with "what ifs" and worst-case scenarios throughout the week.
The adrenaline still courses through your veins, mingling with the fatigue that weighs down your muscles. Dust and grime cling to your clothes, evidence of the challenges you faced together. But amidst the exhaustion, there's a sense of accomplishment, knowing you've made your girlfriend proud.
On the flight home, you shared a tired chuckle, the tension of the mission slowly fading away in the comfort of each other's presence. And all those earlier nerves fading to nothing but relief, knowing you’re both going home. Safe and sound.
…
“I need this suit off me,” Wanda exclaims, her voice weary but tinged with a hint of amusement. She kicks off her boots, already having peeled off her corset, dropping it in a heap by the door.
You giggle in agreement, the sight of your usually intimidating girlfriend as she struggles to take off her tactical gear highly amusing. “Yeah, I think I need a shower to feel human again.”
The sweat-slicked fabric of your own corset sticks uncomfortably to your skin. You would’ve thought Tony would at least have the decency to make your suit more breathable if he was going to stick you in a tight corset…. guess not.
Wanda shoots you a pointed look as you fiddle with your top. Your breasts push deliciously against the black fabric and she licks her lips at the sight of you - totally unaware of her growing desire.
“Well, we could save some water and shower together.”
The suggestion doesn’t catch you off guard as you’re used to the witch coming up with lame excuses to see you naked, and the idea of standing under the hot spray with an equally naked Wanda sounds infinitely more appealing than facing the solitude of your own shower.
“You know, if you wanted to see me naked, you could’ve just said so.”
With a smirk and after a quick press of her lips against yours, Wanda heads towards the back of the apartment, tossing a teasing glance over her shoulder as she beckons for you to follow. “Don’t keep me waiting.”
“Hold on, babe,” You quickly follow in her steps, your trousers and socks long gone, as you enter the shared bedroom, heading for the en-suite. “I need to use the bathroom first-”
Soft lips cut you off as hands slip around your back, swift in removing your blasted corset. She doesn’t wait to grope your chest - deciding she’s been teased enough seeing you in that tight material - and thumbs swipe over pebbled nipples, as she bites her way down your neck.
With an attitude that Wanda usually wouldn’t let slide, "This couldn't have waited five minutes?"
She replies with a quick “nope” and a harsh nip as she mouths at your skin, now adorned with pretty little red marks.
“But I need to go-” Her teeth digging softly into your nipple interrupts your train of thought as your hands shoot up to weave into dark curls, scraping at her scalp.
You say her name in a breathy moan and she replies with her own; kissing, licking, and sucking as much of you as she can. Your eyes flutter close but an ever harsher pinch to your nipple jolts you forward, eyes wide in search of the culprit.
“Eyes on me.” And with that, she steps away, starting the shower as she adjusts the temperature until steam billows from the stall in a comforting cloud.
As she moves under the spray, you can't help but admire the way the water glistens on her skin, tracing the curves of her body in rivulets that disappear beneath the cascading stream. Emboldened by the steam and the intimacy of the moment, you strip off your panties and join her in the shower, letting the water wash away the tension that has settled in your muscles.
For a while, there is only the sound of water pounding against tile, as you both take time to clean yourselves on irrespective sides. The shower was big enough for more than two, designed with two large showerheads on either side and one in the middle that you never turn on. But then, Wanda breaks the silence with a soft laugh, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she looks at you.
“Cute butt.”
You turn your head towards her, refusing to turn fully away from the warm stream cascading down your front.
“What? This butt?” You tease, hands gliding down your hips to grab a handful of your cheeks, before rubbing slow circles, making a show of the usually marked flesh.
Wanda may have liked having you as her good girl, but there was only so much you could take before reverting to your bratty self.
Turning away from your girlfriend, not letting her win at her game of teasing, you resume cleaning yourself. But, light fingertips brushing along your left nipple tell you she’s no longer on her side. The water makes everything even more slick, a delicious friction that almost wasn't.
She guides the heel of her other hand down your side, cresting over your ribs until it reaches your ass. Rubbing circles over where your hands were, her eyes glazed over remembering the last time she had you bent over her lap, hues of purple and red stretched over the skin as she spanked you for mouthing off in front of the team.
She husks, “Uh huh. But I like it better with my marks all over.”
Not wasting any more time, she wraps an arm around, fingers sliding down your lower stomach and graciously over your slit, just nearly missing your bundle of nerves. As if she was the one being played with, she groans freely into your ear, her front grinding flush against your back.
“Spread your legs.” And you find yourself obeying, weight shifting to rest on your palms against the tiles. She chuckles softly, teasing you along the lines of being an “eager baby,” before two fingers glide across your peaked clit, and then curl them into your hot passes.
Your head begins to throb, a sign of the tension building within you. "Don't tease," you plead, knowing that the steam only exacerbates your headache. You reach for the faucet, desperately craving relief from the suffocating heat, but a hand stops you.
You find yourself being spun around to face the taller woman, your back arching away from the cold bite of the tiles. She stares down at you with an all familiar head tilt that dares you to challenge her, to defy her from taking what is hers.
But you remain still and she takes that as an initiative to slide inside deeper, a small smile on her face at your obedience. Starting at a hard yet slow pace, she fucks into you with little remorse. A reminder of that she owns you and can have you however she wants.
Just how you like it.
“Such a pretty little slut. Taking my fingers like that, huh? So fucking greedy.” She laughs as you cling onto her towering figure, the pleasure all too consuming as you whine and whimper so openly.
Chasing that high, you fail to notice how different you feel. Waves of pleasure burdened with a slight ache as you flutter around her. The front of your walls stimulated constantly as you rock into her thrusts. Looking down, you watch as she disappears inside of you and suddenly you remember how you needed to pee earlier. The urge to go had left as soon as Wanda started to suck at your nipples.
Your head snaps back, eyes searching to catch Wanda’s attention. But it was already on you as a smirk spreads across her face. “Don’t you have to go, baby?” She asks in a husky whisper.
Your mouth opens but no sound comes out as you resort to nodding relentlessly.
“Aw, you can hold it for me, can’t you?” She coos, fingers never slowing their pace. “I want to play with you a little longer.”
Knowing you won’t be able to hold out, the need to go growing stronger and stronger now that you remember, you whine out, “No, please, Wands- I won’t- I can’t hold it.”
With a fake sigh that conveyed an air of dissatisfaction and yet subtle empathy, “Then go right here.”
You grimace at the thought of peeing on your girlfriend, how gross it would be… the embarrassment would be too much to recover from.
“I don’t want to.” You admit, embarrassment working its way slowly into your mind, not far enough gone to allow Wanda to think for you.
She doesn’t like that, and so, her fingers work faster inside of you. Her other hand moving between pinching your nipples mercilessly and holding your hips down.
“I don’t care.” She hisses out, “If you need to go, you better do it now. Don’t make Mommy wait.”
Making Wanda wait was something you didn't really want to do, having seen the consequence on many occasions when you couldn’t come when she permitted you, but it was difficult. What she was asking of you was difficult.
With her less busy hand, she slaps a palm against your cheek, the sound echoing against the tiled walls, wet skin against wet skin making the assault sting worse than usual. “I won’t tell you again, slut.”
She doesn’t like how easily you can lose focus, your brain clearly overworking when you should be letting go, focusing solely on her.
You mumble out a soft “okay”, not wanting to be slapped again, before closing your eyes and willing yourself to relax around her fingers. Your body no longer fighting against the urge, fighting to hold it in.
But tight circles around your sensitive clit and fingers deep inside don’t stop as they continue pushing you closer to the edge. Your hand grips tight around her wrist, but to no avail. She was too strong and you couldn’t help but surrender to your throes of pleasure.
Hot liquid runs down the inside of your thighs and your eyes snap shut, shielding yourself from what’s happening, as you also begin to come – unable to stop the stream of piss, the flow faster and out of control as fingers still fuck into you.
“Oh, darling... look at you.” She coos, a hint of bewilderment evident in her voice. Not expecting you to actually look, but teasing you for it all the same. She revels in the way the warm liquid slips through her fingers on to the white flooring.
Despite how mean she was, you hold tight onto her as you lose the ability to stand on your own, legs wobbling beneath. You feel her push you further into the wall, using her body as support, not wanting to take her hand away from your weeping pussy.
“That’s it.” She says softly, fingers coaxing more pleasure from your clit. “Such a messy puppy.”
Tears fall from beneath your eyelids and you open your mouth to speak, only to be silenced with her tongue down your throat.
“That was so hot.” She admits before diving back in, teeth clashing as you open your mouth wide enough for her taking. Her tongue draws yours out as she wraps around it, sucking feverishly. Feeling you release all over her fingers - the heat easily detectable under the stream of water above as you managed to splash against her pale skin - turned her on so much, she couldn’t help but fidget, battling the urge to just fuck against your soaked thigh.
The kiss eventually comes to an end, the need to breathe overpowering the need for having Wanda explore your mouth, a few hungry strands of saliva linking you together.
“Good job, baby. You did so good for me.” She says, coaxing you further into that fuzzy feeling. She nuzzles into your neck, lightly nipping over your fluttering pulse, soothing the heated skin with her tongue. The steam making it harder to see anything clearly. You whine in reply, words no longer existing in your mind, as your heavy arms wrap around her waist.
Wanda, unbeknownst to you, wants you in this headspace—all clingy and dependable. She knows how easily things affect you, so she knew that pushing you hard like she did earlier, forcing you to pee all over her, would only cause your brain to overthink and turn against you. She had to keep you like this, for your sake as well as hers.
“I know you’re feeling all floaty but Mommy needs you to do something for her, sweetheart.” She grabs your hand heading towards the slick between her thighs. She was dripping, her clit so swollen it was hard to miss, and you couldn’t help but trace slow circles around the bud. “Mommy needs you here.”
She encourages you further with a moan so arousing, it had you almost slipping inside of her, desperate to make her come around your fingers already.
She whines, needing you to focus. “I want your mouth, baby.”
You sink to your knees, knocking her legs apart to accommodate. You hoist a leg and place it over your shoulder before leaving a line of wet kisses from her knee to the inside of her thigh. Her fingers caress your face, before getting a good hold of your wet curls and drawing you closer to where she needs you most. You waste no time and lick the length of her centre, greedily taking in the arousal that had gathered there. Wanda lets out a low groan and your eye flutter at her sweet taste. She urges you with the hand that was still tangled in your hair. Obedient to the woman’s demand, you push closer, tongue teasing around her entrance as the tip of your nose pushes into her nerves.
The grip in your curls tightens as she begins to guide your head up and down, your tongue running from just inside her, up along that sweet nerve. She curls forward, one hand against the wall, as she fucks against your face. You lick greedily, jaw slack as you let her take control, smearing her wetness all over.
Every pant melds with a breathy moan as she chases her orgasm. Lost in pleasure, she knocks your head against the tiles. It hurts - your headache now forming for certain - but she doesn’t notice until one sharp thrust has you letting out a sharp cry.
“Oh, I’m sorry, baby.” She husks, arousal still clouding her senses, but she’s concerned with your wellbeing as the hand in your hair travels to soothe where you hit your head, making sure there’s no bumps or cuts. Your eyes flutter shut but you don’t revel in the comfort for too long. Her diagnoses done, she guides you back to her pussy.
She doesn’t fuck your face this time, allowing you the space to gingerly tease her entrance, and within a few seconds, your curling your fingers inside while making a hither motion, eliciting long moans from the older woman.
You don’t bother working your way up, knowing how close she was to finishing before she stopped, as you flick at her clit, fingers pressing against her front walls with an expertise only she could teach you.
At this point, Wanda can’t stop moaning. Her hand leaving your hair as she palms her breasts, slipping her nipples between her fingers and pinching the sensitive flesh. Words of encouragement fly from her lips as she lingers on the edge and you work faster, harder, propelling her forward into a blinding orgasm. Her body trembles violently and you smooth your palms over her thighs, feeling the strong muscles rippling beneath.
“Fuck.” She draws out, light flicks of your tongue helping her come down, before she’s ushering you back on to your feet. You slide up and press against her awaiting lips, pushing your body against hers. Sensitive nipples rub against each other and she groans as she tastes herself, hungrily kissing back. She’s always been able to recover much quicker than you.
“Thank you, baby.” She whispers, still a little breathless, before she turns to shut off the water. Her hand grasps yours and you step out the shower, feeling a slight chill as the warmth of the water dissipates. Wanda reaches for a fluffy towel, wrapping it around you first before turning her attention to herself. With practiced ease, she begins to pat your skin dry, her touch sending ripples of warmth through you.
She always takes such good care of you.
“Looks like I need to wrap your hair.” She says, a tender smile gracing her lips. She had managed to avoid getting her hair wet unlike you with your curls clinging to the sides of your face. Her fingers work deftly to wrangle them into a towel but she’s had enough experience and managed to do it first time.
“All done, little mermaid.” She lets go with a peck to your lips, moving towards the door, and you grab onto her stretched out hand.
“Come on,” She tugs gently, “Let’s watch a movie.”
#my fics! ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff x you#wanda maximoff x y/n#wanda maximoff smut#wanda maximoff#cr: @chilumitos
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Revenge of a simp
Pick your guy: Mattheo Riddle or Theodore Nott
You have been in love with him since forever, slowly you make your way into his life. When he breaks your heart you and Cedric Diggory team up to get him jealous.
So happy to have finally finished this. I really hope it’s good. Not too sure about the title though… Definitely let me know if there are any mistakes.
Warning: save to read until the smut warning, or if you want you can just skip ahead to the smut…
I. You fell first
You liked him and it was obvious. Then again that was kind of the point. After a year of crushing on the guy, it was time to slowly wiggle your way in his life and so far so good.
You talked regularly, mostly before or after class, having small discussions about the material or brainstorm on a project. During the weekends you heard and saw less of him, because he was usually with his small circle of friends. However, most recently you had started to win over Pansy which meant that you tagged along sometimes when they visited Hogsmeade, but even then he spent most of his time talking with his friends. But the most important thing was that you were getting closer to him, you were going to conquer your crush. And today was a magical day.
A small paper butterfly landed on your desk and you frowned, opening it very carefully, wary of any possible pranks. You read it and immediately felt your cheeks heat up. You tried to calm and cool yourself down with a deep breath, before turning around to him and nodding.
Meet me after quidditch training?
Maybe? Please?
M.R.
You nervously waited for Mattheo to finish showering and stared around the quidditch stadium, quietly daydreaming. Suddenly you feel a hand on the small of your back and quickly turn around. “Ready to go?” You smile, but look a bit puzzled. “Go where?” He gestures at the books in his hands. “The library, I really need your help with my history assignment.” You stare at the books and nod. This sure wasn’t the romantic date you were hoping for, but you still get to spend some time with him.
Spending time with Mattheo in the library wasn’t disappointing at all. He settled close to you and gave you all his attention. “I’m so happy to have you here with me. It makes so much more sense now that I understand the assignment properly. I must’ve been distracted when Binns explained it.” You laugh as he eagerly writes some stuff down. “Always happy to help. I could give you my notes. I write down a lot, probably too much, but I like some background information on the events, makes it easier to remember.” He stares at you and smiles. You return his smile awkwardly, tilting your head a bit to ask: why are you staring?. He shakes his head and lets out a soft chuckle. “Sure, your notes will definitely be helpful.”
“Hey, Matt, you joining us up?” Pansy asks as she points her finger up, which refers to the astronomy tower. Mattheo nods and offers you a sweet smile. “Thank you so much for your help.” You try to hide your disappointment and force a smile. As he scrabbles his books and papers together Pansy looks at you. “Are you going to tomorrow's party?” You stay quiet for a moment, you hadn’t really thought about it. “You should. If you want, we can meet beforehand.” You look at her like you’ve fallen in love with her. “Yeah, that would be nice.” She nods.
“What was that about?” You hear Mattheo’s harsh whisper as they walk away. “I could ask you the same?” Pansy whispers back and you can’t help but stay put a moment to think it over.
Meet me after training?
Please?
T.
You were eager and got there early, too early. He had only just landed when you arrived at the quidditch pitch. “You’re a bit early.” He chuckles as walks up to you all sweaty and panting. “I know, but I can just sit in the stands as you shower.” You feel yourself get flustered as he carefully watches you. “The weather is nice, so that’s why I’m early.” You try to sound as casual and convincing as possible, but his soft chuckle is proof of how nervous you sound. “I’ll be quick.” He just says and joins his friends in the direction of the baracs. You sigh, hating how much of a fool you can be when you’re around Theodore. Merlin have mercy, I’m so down for this guy.
Theo watches your hands fiddle as you stare at the clouds. “Hey dreamy, you ready to help me with my potions project?” You jump a little as his voice startles you. You nod. It wasn’t the first time you had studied together, but you were confused that he asked you for help since he was a star student despite his lack of effort. Even more absurd was that he apparently needed your help with potions. You get up and walk towards him. “Potions? Why would you need my help with potions?” You ask with your eyebrows knit together. “I mean you’re like a potions genius.” Theodore laughs at your dramatics, obviously not that good with compliments. “I want some extra credit with Sluggy so I’m writing an essay on Mandrake Restorative Draught. And then I remembered that you wrote an essay on Mandrakes so I thought you might be able to help.” Your eyes get all shiny, you’re happily surprised that he remembered.
While you search for the best books on Mandrakes Theo follows you around questioning you about all things Mandrake. When you try but fail to reach one of the books on the top shelf he is eager to help, but you are surprised by how close he comes, locking your figure between his body and the books. “This one?” He asks with his eyes on yours, referring to the book and you nod, hating the feeling of your face heating up. You feel saved when Pansy shows up. “Theo, you joining us up?” Pansy asks as she points her finger up, which refers to the astronomy tower. “Of course, be there in a minute.” Theodore answers, expecting Pansy to leave. However she stays and smirks. “(Y/n) wanna meet up before the party tomorrow? We can get changed together, it’ll be fun.” You frown for a moment. “I wasn’t planning on going, but I would love to.” Pansy smirks. “Good.” You don’t notice Theodore’s annoyed expression at Pansy and just watch him pass you. “See you later.” Is all he says and you hear Pansy snicker as Theodore growls something under his breath.
II. The kiss
Getting ready with Pansy was a blast. She made all your worries disappear and gave you a massive confidence boost. You stare yourself down in the mirror, checking your outfit and make up, when Pansy pops up next to you in the mirror and kisses you on the cheek. “You look fine, babe, stop stressing about. And lets! Get! Some! Guys!” You laugh wondering if she was really this hyped or she took a shot of something.
She holds your hand as she guides you through the dancing drunks to first get drinks, then dance with some of her friends and finally to the corner where the guys are drinking. When you arrive you notice they’re all focused around Theodore and George who are playing some sort of card game. “I know how to play cards Fred!” George complains as Fred keeps on muttering. You frown, but quickly notice a few galleons on the table. Oh now it makes sense. The next moment Fred and George are bickering and the Slytherins are celebrating. You laugh at their drunk enthusiasm, but suddenly all the laughter seems to go quiet as you lock eyes with him.
Mattheo
When your eyes meet a genuine smile spreads on his face, before he suppresses it and forces his lips into a line. The sparkle in his eyes remains and the corners of his mouth still tug at a smile as he takes a few steps towards you. You look up at him. “Hey, there. Lucky night?” You ask pointing to the table with scattered cards on. His arm snakes around you and he pulls you close. “You have no idea.” You can smell the alcohol, but aren’t bothered by it as you’re too busy enjoying being in his arms and pressed up against his chest. "Let's dance.” He doesn’t wait for an answer and moves you a little further from his friend group to somewhere where there’s enough space to spin you around. You laugh at how playful and drunk he is. Neither of you are bothered by the looks you’re getting.
It was like lightning hit you. He spins you around and immediately pulls you back into him, a little rougher than before. You stumble a bit, but he holds you tightly against him, safe, where you should be. You have no idea what goes through his mind as he looks at you with intense eyes, but it was all you in his head. With one arm around you, his free hand reaches for your face and holds you as he kisses you like no one was in the room. You hesitate for a moment before kissing back and you’re pretty sure you hear Theo and Enzo cheer.
When you break the kiss in need of air, Mattheo slings his arm around your neck and pulls you close to give you a kiss on the cheek. You’re convinced you’re blushing like crazy at this moment, but with Mattheo’s arm around you, you feel safe. All too soon Mattheo is pulled away by his friends to join in some ridiculous drinking game.
When it gets late, or rather early, you and Pansy say your goodbyes and you get one last sloppy kiss from Mattheo, but he’s quick to turn back to drinking. You can’t help but wonder if that kiss actually meant anything.
Theodore
Theo walks over to you grinning and you meet his glinstering eyes. “Remind me to never play games with you.” I say, referring to his ice cold victory and he just smugly raises his eyebrows. His arms reach around you pulling you close to him and his lips move to your ear. “Let's join the crowd and dance.” He pulls away a little to see your expression and you can smell a combination of cigarettes and firewhiskey, but the most intoxicating thing about him are his eyes, which seem to drown in yours. You give a small nod in agreement and he walks you to the center of the room. He never lets go of you and now that you’re surrounded by dancing people he pulls you even closer. You can barely wrap your mind around what’s happening, so you decide to let yourself be guided by Theo’s warmth.
You don’t hide your gaze and just adore Theodore as he sings along with the music in a playful way while his intense eyes never leave yours. You should’ve seen it coming, but you didn't, it came out of nowhere. One moment he was resting his head against yours and the next his lips were roughly moving over yours and biting at your soft lips. It was a drunk kiss, but it felt so passionate that all doubt left your body and you kissed back with the same intensity and desire. When the kiss finally breaks Theodore pulls you close, squeezing you a little too hard, but you weren’t going to complain.
When he lets go of you, the first thing you notice is how you had forgotten about all the people around you, but they had seen it all. Eyes of jealousy and eyes of shock were all around you. With his arm still around you, he guides you back to Pansy and his friends. With a butsqueeze he says his goodbye to you and joins his friends in another game. You’re left baffled at what just happened and join Pansy on the couch. When you announce you’re leaving all you get is a cheeky wink which has you questioning if the kiss meant anything at all.
III. The heartbreak
The next morning you quickly figured out how this was gonna go. All of Hogwarts was talking about your kiss, except for him. As much as it meant to you, you were forced to downplay it. Luna spent her entire day checking on you, worried you would break at the smallest inconvenience. “Drunk people kiss at parties.” You told Ginny. “It probably meant nothing and that’s cool.” You tried to sound as nonchalant as possible but failed miserably.
However, as bad as it sounded when you were forced to say it, it was worse to hear him say it. You spotted him a little further down the hallway.
“I was drunk and she was just there.” I was… convenient?
”She’s been simping since forever, it was just an easy play.” Simping? Easy play?
You turn around, heartbroken. You had a crush on the biggest ass ever.
However, you miss a vital part of the conversation.
Mattheo
Pansy rolls her eyes. “Sure, Matt. You’re definitely not falling for her at all.” She turns on her heels annoyed with his pathetic tough act. Mattheo frowns and turns to Theodore and Enzo. “I don’t have a thing for (y/n).” Lorenzo can’t hide his smile and Theo is grinning at his pack of cigarettes. When Theodore meets Mattheo’s annoyed eyes his face turns a bit more serious. “If you want us to believe that you’re gonna have to stop the staring.” Enzo nods and adds: “And you’ll have to stop asking her for help with assignments we know you’ve already finished.” Mattheo clenches his jaw and snatches Theo’s cigarettes, before pushing them aside and walking away. “Whatever.” He mutters and Theo and Enzo can’t help but grin at their friend in denial.
Theodore
“Yeah, she’s a simp, but you like it.” Mattheo sings the last bit with humor and Theodore rolls his eyes. “It’s pathetic.” Theo argues with annoyance in his voice, but Mattheo just grins. “Isn’t that how we like our girls?” This makes Theodore’s eyes go a little darker, whether the statement was true or not Theo didn’t like Mattheo’s outspokenness about it and reaches for his cigarettes. “Last night’s kiss clearly meant something.” Blaise’s serious voice makes Theo roll his eyes again. It was conversations like these that made him smoke as much as he did. “No. It didn’t.” Draco’s grinning gets even worse and his tongue pokes the inside of his cheek. “Then explain why you need her to help you with potions? Were you out of legitimate excuses to spend time with her?” Mattheo snickers. “Yeah, and what’s up with the staring?” Theodore pulls away his hand holding his pack of cigarettes so Mattheo fails to snatch it. “I don’t stare.” Theo’s voice warns them to stop teasing. When he walks away Blaise raises his eyebrows and Theodore growls when he hears his friends fall into a fit of laughter.
IV. The masterplan
Clearly upset you make your way to your common room intending on hiding in your dorm for the rest of the day. You try to keep yourself from crying as you speed walk through the hallways. You keep your head down to avoid making eye contact, but suddenly you’re forced to look up as some stumbles into you. Cedric Diggory. Walking backwards out of a classroom fully engaged in a conversation and laughing he had walked into you. “Oh by Helga, I’m so sorry.” He immediately apologizes and reaches for your arms to keep you steady as you take a few steps back. When he realizes it’s you, a happy smile tugs on his lips. Even though he was older, Cedric and you had been good friends since first year. You were constantly lost, but leave it to the handsome and sweet hufflepuff to help out first years. You try to force a smile in return, but it turns into something awful and Cedric cheerfulness ebbs away as worry makes his brows knit together.
“Dudes, I’ll meet up with you later.” He tells his friends and swings his arm around your shoulder. “Talk to me, (little puff/ dearest raven/ sweet slytherin/ brave lion).” You try to push him away. “Uhm nothing, I’m just on my way to my dorm. A headache, you know.” You make up the lie on the spot and point to your head, but Cedric isn’t having any of it and pulls you closer. “Sure, but who’s the cause of your headache? Snape? That annoying prefect we talked about last time?” You don’t know how, but he manages to make you laugh. You remember how you’ve always confided in him and not once had he broken your trust. So when you’re in an empty hallway you decide to fess up about your crush, the kiss and what you had heard him say.
Cedric stares at you and you can’t figure out what exactly he’s thinking until he finally speaks up. “I’m not one to throw punches, but excuse me for a moment.” He says and turns around, but you grab his arm and pull him back. “No. It won’t do any good. Plus you’ll get hurt, I don’t want that.” He huffs. “I could take him.” You try to hide your smile as he flexes his arms. “Okay, maybe not a fight, but he has to pay in some way. I mean does he not realize what an amazing person he’s missing out on.” Your eyes glinster as you watch him. Yeah, why couldn’t that idiot see me?! Suddenly something in you clicks and you look Cedric up and down, before pursing your lips with mischief in your eyes. The hufflepuff in front of you frowns as he sees trouble. “You want to help me make him realize he’s an idiot.” Cedric nods, slightly wary of what you’re planning. “Want to be my fake boyfriend?” A cheeky smile tugs on his lips. “I thought you would never ask.” He jokes, but he quickly turns serious. “He is so going to regret taking you for granted.”
V. He fell harder
The plan was simple: hold hands, snuggle, spend a ridiculous amount of time together and simply act like Cedric was the only guy at Hogwarts. Meanwhile Cedric was being a perfect fake boyfriend, he walked you to your classes and held your books. You spent every meal together, sitting uncomfortably close to each other. When no one was around you would spend your time laughing at your own behavior.
But as much fun as you were having pretending to be over your crush, he was far from having a good time. An intense feeling of jealousy settled in his stomach and made his heart ache in a way that turned his eyes lifeless.
Mattheo
Theodore gave Mattheo a soft elbow so he would stop staring at the Hufflepuff table, but he didn’t budge. Mattheo was too busy hurting himself by watching Cedric’s arm hang over your shoulder. When Theodore again shoves his elbow in Mattheo’s direction he looks at Theo with a troubled look. “That’s toxic behavior right. It’s like he owns her or something.” Pansy immediately snickers at Mattheo’s words, making him turn towards her with a scowl on his face. “If you were truly a good friend you would do something about it.” Pansy raises eyebrows at Mattheo's argument. “I love it when karma’s a bitch.” Pansy says looking away from Mattheo with a content smile, not getting involved with his jealous act.
Mattheo ignores Pansy, not ready to admit that maybe he was in the wrong by assuming you would wait for him forever. He looks back over to you and instantly regrets it as he now has to watch Cedric whisper something in your ear that makes you laugh so beautifully that Mattheo feels his heart being ripped from his chest. “Stop looking.” Blaise says when he sees Mattheo’s face fill with pain. “I don’t get girls. Two days ago she was still simping over me like a lost puppy and now it’s Cedric.” No one really wants to respond to Mattheo’s statement, since how Mattheo had treated you wasn’t fair but at the same time they knew he just needed a little more time to come to terms with his feelings. Enzo turns around to look at you and Cedric. “Honestly, it’s not that surprising, they’ve been hanging out since first year. Guess he just finally made a move.” Theodore stares at Enzo for being this blunt about the situation. Mattheo looks at Lorenzo with an unreadable expression, before looking at his plate. “Good for him.” He eventually mutters. After two more bites he gets up and leaves the great hall, you watch him from your cozy spot next to Cedric and you can’t help but miss Mattheo despite how much he had hurt you.
Theodore
He entered the great hall and immediately his eyes rolled at the sight of you next to Cedric. He joins his friends at the slytherin table without taking his eyes off of you. “That’s just inappropriate. She’s basically on top of him.” Enzo turns like the obvious person he is and looks back at Theo, grinning like an idiot while Theo is far from pleased. “They look cute together.” Mattheo’s wide eyes shoot up at Enzo, before he looks at his heartbroken friend. “Yeah. Sure.” Theodore mumbles and finally looks away. “There’s other girls, mate.” Mattheo says before patting Theo on the back. This for some reason hurts even more, Theodore hates the idea of moving on from you. “I don’t get it. Why is she suddenly into him? It makes no sense. She was into me. I mean it was obvious, right?” Enzo raises his eyebrows at Theo’s agitated voice, but before anyone can say anything he continues. “Like, why would she go for that?” His eyes move back to Cedric whispering something, apparently hilarious, into your ear making you giggle.
Theodore grits his teeth. You were so pretty with that slight blush on your face. He used to get to see that every time he talked to you and he loved it. He loved you and now that he had finally realized that you were in some other guy's arms. Pansy’s snickering pulls Theodore away from you, but he avoids her and looks straight back at his plate. “Did you seriously expect her to wait for you forever? Gods, you men are so simple.” Blaise turns to Pansy. “Can you be any more insensitive?” Pansy shrugs. “Like he was when he let her run after him for almost a year.” Suddenly there’s a loud clattering noise as Theodore throws his fork onto his plate and gets up. All the guys judge Pansy, but she couldn’t care less.
With Cedric’s arm around your shoulder, you watch Theodore speed walk out of the great hall. You can’t help but chew your lip wondering if you’re on his mind at all.
VI. You played the game too well
The week went by and you hadn’t talked to him once. Only one or two stolen glances. However, you expected everything to change at tonight’s party.
“Definitely jealous.” Cedric says as you meet his eyes in the mirror. “Really?” You ask, unable to hide your childlike joy. “Yeah, trust me. The staring is so obvious. It’s almost embarrassing.” You chew your lip at the idea that your crush is actually interested in you. “Which is kinda why I think you should talk to him.” Your eyebrows knit together at the Hufflepuff’s words. “Why? He accused me of simping. He should apologize to me.” You turn around to face your fake boyfriend who sat on your bed smiling. “Yeah and I think he should, but I fear you might be expecting too much of a slytherin with issues.” You look at him a little confused and he sighs. “Look (y/n), you’re clearly still into the guy which I don’t think is your best move, but I won’t judge….” You frown. “That’s judging.” Cedric tilts his head in an apologetic way and continues his argument. “The thing is I don’t know if he’s going to start begging…” Your eyes are focussed on Cedric since you clearly haven’t caught on and Cedric tries to explain it as simply as possible. “I fear he might just act out like a toddler that just has his candy taken away. We’re playing this game really well and as confident as he pretends to be I think he won’t reach out if he thinks you’ve forgotten about him.”
Cedric left to get changed for tonight’s party and you continue to get ready as well. You mind dwelled on Cedric’s words. Part of you wanted to reach out and talk, but you also didn’t want to prove how much of a simp you really were for him. He might not be jealous at all and then I would just make a fool of myself. He should come to me… and he will… tonight. With determination you stared yourself down in the mirror. Tonight he would simp for you.
You jump to the music with Cedric and Luna by your side. You’re having a great time, but still your eyes darted around the room. It was past midnight and you hadn’t seen your idiot of a crush yet.
However, his eyes had been on you all night.
Mattheo
Leaning against a wall with a drink in his hand he watches you be pretty and have fun. It was gut wrenching to see you with someone else. He cursed himself and down his drink. When he moves to place his empty cup on a table a very flirty and drunk girl approaches him. With one dance move she wraps his arm around her own body. For a moment Mattheo’s eyes scan over the girl’s body moving against his, but then his mind goes back to you and he searches for your beautiful figure in the crowd.
To his surprise you’re looking at him. His heart starts pounding now that your eyes are on him. But then he notices you’ve stopped moving. He’s not sure, but it looks as if all joy had been drained from your figure. The girl in Mattheo’s arms whispers something in his ear, but he doesn’t even proces her words as he watches you look away from him.
When he sees Cedric look over to him and say something to you he gently pushes the girl in his arms away. The next moment you push Cedric away and move towards the exit, Mattheo desperately tries to follow you. You were clearly upset about something and he just knew he needed to be with you. His heart started racing even more, he hadn’t talked to you in a week and he was unsure what he would say or do if he caught up to you.
He had pushed everyone aside and was only seconds behind you, but when he finally got to the hallway you were nowhere to be seen. His worried eyes darted around until he heard soft sobs and knew by the aching of his heart it was you.
You were standing just behind a corner, in a dark hallway, trying to keep yourself quiet so as to not draw any attention. Your mind was still in the moment where Mattheo was looking at the girl in his arms. The kiss you two had shared was just out of convenience, he wasn’t jealous, quite to the contrary he was over you… if he was ever interested at all. You want to let your body slide down the wall since your sadness is making your legs tremble, but suddenly Mattheo’s hand reaches for your side keeping you steady. Your eyes scan him up and down, not willing to believe it’s actually him. “What happened? Did Cedric do something?” You immediately shake your head, but it takes a while for you to answer as your throat still feels dry. “No.” Your voice is shaky and Mattheo’s thumb caresses your cheek wiping a few tears away.
It’s this gesture that pisses you off. “Go back to that slutty thing.” You snap and push away his hand. He’s shocked by your reaction, but after a second of confusion his eyebrows knit together. “Is that what this is about?” There’s a hint of frustration in his voice. You grit your teeth annoyed with your own jealousy. Frustration boils up, this was not how it was supposed to play out. He was supposed to be jealous. “You said I was an easy play. You don’t just kiss people for the fun of it, Mattheo. I wasn’t simping over you. You hurt me.” Your rant doesn’t make a lot of sense to Mattheo, but those last words trigger something.
“I hurt you? You left me out of nowhere and just… just forgot about me… suddenly you’re all over Cedric. Watching you in his arms, hurt me, every god damn day, (y/n)!” He is so close to your face, it’s intimidating, but you don’t back down. “Good. Now you know to never take me for granted.” Your words are stern and calm him down in a way, so he can now finally connect the dots. His breath is still unsteady, but his eyes have calmed down. “You and Cedric aren't actually dating?” Your heart is still racing, but your anger has subsided. “No.” You whisper. “I really thought you were.” There’s a sadness in his voice that makes you feel a little guilty, but he doesn’t allow you to think about it because the next moment his lips crash onto yours.
The kiss is harsh, almost punishing, but you still desperately embrace it. Your hands make their way up to his neck and hair while he pushes himself into you, earning a soft whimper from you. You had been longing for this for so long, this was the real thing, this was Mattheo’s raw love. “Don’t ever play games like this with me again.” He warns, voice husky and dark, before kissing you with even more lust than before.
Theodore
Seated with his drunk friends Theodore stared at you, like he had been doing for the entire night, only looking away to reach for his drink on the table in front of him. He had barely even gone out to smoke, it was confusing how he continued to torture himself by watching you be happy dancing with some other guy. Theo reached for his drink, when suddenly a very tipsy girl slipped her hand on his leg and settles next to him on the couch. “Theoooo.” She sang as her other hand snaked to the back of his head playing with a few strands of his hair. Theodore stares her down before rolling his eyes and returning his gaze back to you.
It felt like the air in the room was being sucked away as your eyes looked directly at him. He was happy to know you still knew he existed, but it only lasted for a moment. You look almost disgusted with him and immediately turn away from him, making Theodore frown. The next thing confuses Theo even more as he watches you shake your head at Cedric and head for the door. Something was wrong and he just needed to be with you, he felt drawn to you and quickly made his way through the crowd.
When you’re finally outside you can no longer hold back tears. Theodore wasn’t jealous and he wasn’t going to be begging for you tonight. Your plan failed and now you were even further away from him than ever. Sobbing you speed walk to get as far away as possible, but you don’t get very far. His large warm hand wraps around your wrist and pulls you into his tall body. “What happened?” A worried Theo meets your eyes and his free hand snakes up to your face, cupping your cheek.
”You!” You snap and take a step back. “You said I was a simp, I was easy.” Theodore is baffled at your angered voice and the tears that continue to stream down. “You should’ve never taken advantage of me and kissed me.” Theo frowns. “I-I didn’t mean to-” He can’t think of anything to say. He did say those things and maybe he did take advantage of you, but he never meant to because he truly cared about you. He loved you. His silence makes you sob even louder. “And then you just jump the first girl that approaches you. Do I mean nothing to you?” At your question Theodore grits his teeth. “You mean the world to me, but you were suddenly off with Cedric like I didn’t exist. What was I supposed to do?” His eyes are filled with anger and desperation, making you look down at your feet. It’s your sudden silence that makes Theo suspicious. “Don’t tell me you started dating him to get me jealous?” You wisely decide to keep staring at your feet, avoiding his piercing gaze.
He grabs your chin, demanding an answer. “We’re not actually dating. I just wanted you to see me.” Theodore looks away from you as a mix of emotions surges through him. No words can explain how angry and in love he is with you, so after a nasty curse in Italian he pushes you against the wall and slams his body against yours. His kiss is intense and leaves you without air. He rests his head against yours. “Let tonight be a reminder to never play games with me again.”
VII. Smut! bonus: exactly how I like you
Mattheo
You ignoring Mattheo for a week had gotten him more hot and bothered than you realized, but now that he finally had you alone in his room you were gonna find out. He knew you wanted him, so there was really no need for him to be polite about it. He shuts the door behind him and breaks the sloppy kiss to forcefully turn you around, pushing you against a wall. “I want you naked and underneath me.” He whispers in your ear as he unzips your dress. He kisses your shoulders as he lowers your dress until it slips down your perfect figure. His already hard dick pushes against your ass through the fabric of his pants, while he squeezes your breasts through your bra. A whiny moan escapes you as you feel your panties soak, earning you an animalistic growl from deep down his throat. “This is what you’ve wanted for so long, isn’t it? Me having my way with you?” You nod and a sloppy sound of agreement leaves your lips. You can feel Mattheo’s smirk against your skin, but he immediately goes back to focusing on your body, taking off your bra and turning you around so your perked nipples are faced towards him.
Slowly his hands caress your boobs, his mouth hangs open in admiration of your beauty. “You belong to me.” He squeezes your breast and presses his lips against yours. “I belong-” With one hand playing with your nipple he earns a moan from you and presses his smirking lips against your temple waiting for you to finish your sentence. “to you.” You breathe out so beautifully it makes his dick twitch in his pants. “Damn, you need to be fucked so desperately?” You nod and his hand slips to your drenched panties, making you whimper in embarrassment as a filthy smile appears on his face. “Fuck, princess, I love you so much, you’re so desperate for me.” You hear the hunger in his voice and softly buck your hips as he inserts a finger. You cling to his shoulders as the movement of his fingers makes your knees go weak. You cry his name as circles your clit, wanting more of your needy whiny moans.
“Please, Mattheo, fuck me.” You beg as your moans turn into whimpers. His smug smile stays in place as he watches you. “No. You’re going to cum for me.” He demands and curls his fingers in a way that has you instantly climax. While you’re still feeling all the sensations of your orgasm rush through your body, Mattheo picks you up and walks you to his bed. He slips off your panties and just watches your wet cunt as he uncaps his belt and reaches for his hard thobbing cock. You moan at the beautiful sight of Mattheo jerking between your legs. You’ve wanted this exact thing for so long and happily spread your legs a little wider, making him smirk. “I love a good girl.” He whispers darkly as he crawls onto the bed and lines himself up with your entrance. “You are going to take me so well.”
At a slow pace he works himself into your pussy, making sure to stretch you without hurting you. “You’re deep.” You whine at his size fully inside of you. He leans down and kisses you, before moving his lips to your ear. “Yeah, but I’m also fully inside, which means I’m yours.” His hoarse voice has you throw your head back, giving him the signal to start pounding into your desperate cunt. There isn’t much mercy in Mattheo as he grabs your thighs and slams his dick into you again and again and again… As you feel your second orgasm approach you arch your back and he selfishly chases his own high, knowing that you’ll come any moment. As he fills you up with his seed he can’t help but think about how much of a simp you are for him: exactly how I like you.
Theodore
“Let tonight be a reminder to never play games with me again.” Well, you surely were never going to forget tonight and you already knew that when Theo dragged you to a nearby classroom. In between sloppy kisses he had reached for your hand and guided it to his pants, where you eagerly started to pump his dick. When your hand was soaked with his precum he unzipped his pants. “You want me?” You nod, feeling your pussy get wet at the idea. Pleased with your answer, his mouth is back onto yours. “Then get on your knees.” He demands pulling out his hard member. With your mouth already hanging open you lower to your knees. Theodore smirks at the view of your desperate mouth. “I love how compliant you are.”
You struggle to take him whole, but you want to so badly and Theo grips your hair. “Slowly love, give yourself some time.” You take his advice and let him guide his dick in your mouth, fucking in slowly but steadily. “Merlin, you're beautiful on your knees for me.” He moans as you keep your eyes on him. Your eyes get teary as he gets slightly rougher, but his strokes your hair reassuring you. “If you continue to take me this well, I’ll eat that needy pussy of yours.” You almost roll your eyes at his words making a mess of your panties. Only moments later his seed fills your mouth, you struggle to swallow but do so non the less and that view alone almost gets him hard again.
Still panting himself he pulls you up and works down your panties. Your hands grip the desk behind you and for a moment you worry which classroom you’re actually in, making you yelp in pleasure as his mouth digs in on your soaking cunt. You cry his name over and over again as his tongue fucks your pussy, making your legs give in a little but luckily Theodore takes a firm hold of your thighs and keeps you in place. Feeling supported by his strong arms one hand lets go of the desk behind you and settles in Theo’s hair. “I want you, Theo. Please, it’s okay, just fuck me already.” You beg, but it only makes him force his face deeper in between your legs, making your stomach twist just before coming on his tongue. “Now I’ll fuck you.” You hear his husky voice from between your legs and your eyes roll back.
His cock was hard again and he was harsher than before as he turned you around and bent you over the desk you had just held onto. With one brute tugg he pulls your bra and dress down so your breasts are exposed to the cold air. With one hand playing with a boob his other is free to guide his dick inside of you. You cry out his name as he picks up the pace rather quickly. “Isn’t this what you wanted?” He asks and you can imagine the smug smile on his lips. When you don’t immediately answer he starts pounding into you even harder. “Yes. Yes this is what I wanted.” You whimper as your face gets teary. Finally having what you wanted from him felt better than you had ever imagined. Your desperation and Theo’s powerful thrusts had your clit thobbing in seconds and your walls clenched around his cock as you came for a second time that night. Tightly holding onto your breasts Theodore watched his dick slide in and out of you, overstimulating your pussy, until he came for a second time as well. Gods, this was exactly how he liked you: simping for him and filled up with his seed.
Picture source: https://pin.it/6AnYUtD1c
#slytherin#slytherin boys#theodore nott#theodore nott imagine#theodore nott x reader#mattheo riddle imagine#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheo riddle#papercorgiworldwritings
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(yandere! artist x gn! reader) (this was funnier in my head)
"..."
"..."
"Erm-"
"Just wait a minute... I'm almost done..."
You purse your lips, holding the position reluctantly as you eye the artist. You feel your body shiver lightly, a sign that the cold air in the room was starting to get to you.
However, you could only let out a small sigh, staring at the artist who was painting your nude body with the most focused look you've ever seen. You know things would be worse if you defied him.
What were you even doing right now? You couldn't believe you'd actually allow him to paint your naked body in exchange for money and some freedom!
But... It was just too tempting. Things were starting to get a little boring after all.
Plus, you know he'd make you model for him either way. You'd rather do it willingly and get rewarded than be forced to do it and get punished. And either way, you know that it wouldn't be sexual. You know he'd be too focused on getting everything right to focus on his desires.
"Darling could you come here please?"
He mumbles, eyes focused on the easel as he continues to paint. You feel yourself rejoice slightly as you stand up and make your way over to him. You grab his jacket and wrap it around your body.
You relish in the warmth, snuggling into his jacket. But your comfort didn't last long, for he made you sit in his lap as he pointed out some mistakes that only he could see.
"The lighting over here looks a bit too hard... And the strokes here-"
You didn't bother listening to his complaints. I mean, it's not like you were an artist or anything but even then, you could tell the painting was a piece of art. Everything looked perfect to you, and you couldn't see the mistakes that he pointed out.
But you suppose that it was because he was an artist and that was his art. Therefore it would make sense for him to critique it more sternly.
"Darling you're too beautiful... I can never paint you perfectly."
He mumbles, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. You freeze slightly, still not used to his touches before relaxing as you stare at the painting.
Even if you hated this guy for forcing you to be with him... You couldn't lie that he was an art genius. And you just couldn't understand why he thinks you're like this perfect being. This painting made you look like a heavenly angel!
"Um... I think the painting is amazing... I think it's good enough-"
"Darling, it will never be enough."
He looks up from his position, eyelashes fluttering as he tightens his grip on your waist.
"Why won't you understand that you're the perfect muse? Give yourself more credit..."
He sighs in bliss, nuzzling your neck with his cheek as you grow slightly exasperated with him. Damn, you can't believe that an NPC like you managed to get him to fall for you.
You shiver again, feeling the cold air hit your bare legs as you sit in his lap, enjoying the warmth his body radiated. Now, the painting looks done so...
"So um can I wear clothes now?"
"No."
"Damn."
#yandere#tw yandere#yandere x reader#yandere drabbles#yandere imagines#yandere scenarios#yandere concept#yandere artist#yandere artist x reader#gn reader#suiana rambling#suiana brainrotting
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