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forever-rogue · 1 year

Note

Hi darling 🥰 I love, absolutely love the way you write Eddie and I have an idea for a fic! Maybe reader is Eddie's best friend forever (she has the same style, taste in music, also plays D&D, has tattoos, colorful hair) she is also in love with Eddie, but for some reason she thinks Eddie is attracted to cheerleaders and would never pay attention to her sooo she gets quiet and closed off, she's hurt and sad, she feels not enough but our dear boy finally gets the truth out of her and shows her his love, that she's the only one who really matters to him 🥹 If you are ok with it they have romantic sex but no pressure! Love ya!

AN | Friends to lovers! Fools in love! Requited pining 🥺🥰

Warnings | Language

Pairing | Eddie x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 3k

Masterlist | Main, Eddie

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

He had a pretty smile. A really fuckin’ pretty smile.

It had been one of the first things you’d noticed about him when you met him as an awkward pre-teen. Now it was one of your favorite things about him. Among everything else, but you know, that wasn’t important. Sure, you were in love with Eddie Munson, also known as your best friend, but that was beside the point. Well…maybe it was the whole point.

But none of that mattered. Because while you were in love with your dorky, funny, and hot best friend, nothing was ever going to change. While you were like him in so many ways, and people always presumed the two of you were dating (to which Eddie liked to remind people that you were platonic with a capital p), you were absolutely not his type. God, it's brutal out here.

No, his type was soft, ultra feminine, pastel pretty girls, bonus points if they were cheerleaders. If you had to sum it down to a singular person, Chrissy Cunningham fit the bill. And, honestly, you couldn’t even blame him. Not only was she pretty, smart, and funny, she was also kind. She’d never had so much as a singular rude thing to say and that made you want to hate her even more. Eddie was infatuated with her and all you were was his best friend. And it fucking sucked.

No matter how hard you tried to get over him, by hooking up with other people, trying to expand your interests to include other people, and even - for just a horrible moment - you’d tried to change yourself to be more his type, it never worked. Your thoughts, feelings - your heart - always went back to him.

Eventually you’d had enough and decided that it was time to make a change. Even though you knew it would break your heart, you decided that this was the only way you’d ever get over him.

You had to create a divide, to set a distance and boundaries between the two of you. It was going to hurt at first, but that would pass, hopefully, one day and perhaps you’d both be better.

That was the plan in your head anyway…too bad life decided not to play by your little plan.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Hey sweetheart,” ugh. Your heart cracked at the sound of the sweet pet name he’d always called you. Normally you liked it…normally when you weren’t trying to avoid him. He slid into the seat next to you, elbow on the table as he rested his chin in his hand. You could feel him staring at you before he reached over and delicately twisted a lock of your hair around his pinky, “new color. I like purple, it looks pretty.”

“T-thanks,” you swallowed thickly before staring down at your tray, your appetite slowly disappearing, “did you need something?”

“Umm duh,” he teased, “it’s Friday night, aka movie night, and I am making sure you remember since you’ve been avoiding me like the plague. Which I won’t take personally, unless it continues on.”

“Oh,” you hadn’t forgotten movie night. It had been a tradition for the last five years, but you couldn’t bring yourself to face a night alone with him. You drummed your fingers along the table, “I-I can’t tonight. Sorry, Eddie, I…forgot.”

“You forgot movie night?” his entire face fell and as you shrugged your shoulders and nodded slightly, “but we always…have movie night. How-”

“Look, I’m sorry,” you allowed yourself one little look at the boy before feeling your heart drop. You’d never seen such a sad look on his face before. You grabbed your bag before standing up, “I just forgot, I’m sorry. I…I’ll see you around.”

You were off and out of the cafeteria before he could say anything. You left him sitting there, staring after you with a heartbroken expression. You’d never forgotten, you’d never turned him down before. Not until today anyway.

Eddie decided that he wouldn’t think too much of it. It was only the first time and maybe you really did have something else pressing to do. He wasn’t going to freak out yet; he was sure things would be back to normal order shortly.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Except Eddie was wrong. Very wrong.

Not only you had feigned that you’d forgotten movie night, you soon seemed to forget every plan and usual things done with Eddie. Whenever you saw him, you ducked around a corner or walked the other, or hid in the girls’ bathroom. You never answered the phone when he called your house, and never appeared to be home when he stopped by - which he knew was a lie.

You’d gone from being thick as thieves to slowly drifting apart, and Eddie was scared that he was going to lose you forever. Maybe it was dramatic, but he couldn’t imagine a life without you in it….he’d even wager to say it wasn’t worth living. Call him dramatic, which you only did, but he wasn’t just going to accept you walking out of his life without some sort of answer.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was another afternoon of suffering through the mundane classes at Hawkins High. At least lunch afforded you some to go outside, to breathe and get some fresh air. You were sitting at a small table by yourself, sketchbook open and pencil in hand, but yourself found yourself lacking inspiration. It wasn’t until you looked up and stared off into the distance that you noticed Eddie. A small sigh escaped your lips as you watched him stalk off into his secluded little spot behind the school…with Chrissy in tow.

The two of them were laughing about something, and that just served to make your blood boil. Why would Eddie even need you when he had pretty, perfect little Chrissy at his beck and call? He wouldn’t….he wouldn’t need you anymore.

You slammed the sketchbook shut, but not before looking down at what you had mindlessly created. Of course. It was a quick sketch of Eddie, something you’d done a million times before, but today it just served to make the bile rise in your throat.

This was harder than you ever dreamed it would be. You missed him…you really fucking missed him.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You almost jumped when the chair across from you was pulled out. It was a quiet afternoon in the library, and you’d been the only one working in there…until now. You looked up and frowned when you realized it was Eddie. He gave you a small smile before slipping into the seat, “hey.”

“I’m studying,” you pointed to your books as if it wasn’t obvious enough, “do you mind?”

“Are you coming to Hellfire tonight?” you’d skipped out on the last couple of meetings, feeding one of the younger boys some excuse as to why you weren’t able to make it. It seemed to placate them well enough, but Eddie wasn’t buying it. You sighed lightly before shaking your head.

“I can’t,” you lied, “I’ve got this big test I’m studying for, I just don’t have the time.”

“Funny,” he mused thoughtfully, “that’s exactly what you told Dustin last time.”

“I have multiple classes and different tests,” you hissed, “besides, they’re AP classes, which require more work than the same basic pre-calc class you’re taking for the third time.”

And oh. That was a shitty low blow and you both knew it. You hated how it sounded as soon the words left your mouth. You didn’t mean any of it - you were just angry and wanted him to leave you alone and figured that might work. But Eddie, steadfast and sweet Eddie, wasn’t moved.

“This will be the third meeting in a row you’ve missed,” he whispered, “you know the rules - three missed meetings and you’re out. And rules are rules, even when it’s you.”

“Fine,” you grabbed your books and shoved them into your book bag, “kick me out then, that’s fine. I’ll live.”

Okay, there was absolutely something going on that you weren’t letting on about. Eddie knew you better than that; you’d never just miss Hellfire for no reason and just not care about being kicked out. That was absolutely not you.

“Wait -”

“No,” you hissed through gritted teeth and stalked out of the library. But Eddie wasn’t made. If anything, he was more determined to figure out what was going on.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was late but you weren’t sleeping just yet. You couldn’t - your mind was way too loud and incessant for that. Truthfully you hadn't slept well in weeks, but you’d adapted to living under a cloud of tiredness.

It was the loud tapping at your window that snapped you wide away as you looked up from where your head bent down and stared at a textbook. You had no clue what the noise was, and wondered if you should ignore the sound. But then it came again and you knew that it wouldn’t stop until you examined what was going on.

“You open the window, or I’ll do it myself,” the voice from outside reached your ears and you quickly pulled the curtains back. There was Eddie Munson, perched on the roof outside your window, ready to open the window himself.

“Eddie,” you decided to take mercy on him and opened it so he could come inside. He landed without any grace on your floor, almost tripped over his own feet, “it’s past midnight! What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to see you,” he insisted and you sighed as you sat down on your bed, shaking your head at him. He dropped to his knees in front of you and reached for your hand, which you just pulled away, “what is going on, sweetheart? And don’t lie to me and say it’s nothing. You’ve been avoiding me for weeks, and we both know it. I just want to know what I did, so I can fix it, I want to make things better. Please, let me fix it.”

“Eddie,” tears had already pearled up and run down your cheeks. Of course he wanted to make things better, he was still willing to try despite how terrible you’d been to him, “I-I don’t think you can fix it.”

“You don’t know that,” he insisted meekly, “you just have to tell me what it is.”

“It’s you,” you breathed and watched as his face turned into a look of confusion, “you’re the problem. And there’s no way to fix this, not anymore.”

“I’m the problem?” he looked so taken aback, so hurt. He had no clue what he could have done to hurt you or upset you, at least not knowingly. He’d never hurt you; he’d take the pain and brunt a million times over before letting you get hurt, “what do you mean? W-what did I do?”

You wiped at your cheeks with the back of your hand and shook your head before exhaling shakily. You’d already made a fool out of yourself, might as well get it all out there in the open, “I’m in love with you.”

A heavy, thick silence fell over the two of you as he watched you closely and you just sniffled and looked anywhere but at him. He spoke up when he couldn't stand it anymore, “what’s so bad about that?”

“Eddie,” you turned back to him and noticed he had the softest and most gentle of smiles on his face. That just confused you more, “I can’t be your best friend and be so in love with you and watch you fawn over girls and date them and eventually…forget about me.”

“Wait, I’m confused…what do you mean other girls?”

“Pretty girls, the ones that you like, like Chrissy,” you shrugged and tried to act like your heart wasn’t completely broken, “I saw you with her.”

“I don’t…I don’t like Chrissy,” he confessed as your brows knitted in confusion, “she’s nice and I was with her, to sell her some stuff for a party, and another time for some advice.”

“Everyone likes her…” you shrugged lightly, “you can tell me the truth, that you’re into her and all those other pretty cheerleaders. Besides, what advice could you possibly get from her? It’s fine if you’re into her, Eddie, it just…I don’t think I can be your friend and have to see you with her all the time. Maybe that’s really selfish, but it’s true.”

“Stop, please - just listen to me for a moment. I was asking her about you,” he professed and you looked to find his eyes searching you. Your mouth opened and closed a few times and Eddie took advantage to brush a few rogue locks of hair out of your face, “because you’d been avoiding me and acting like you hate me. I was asking her what I could do to get you to talk to me again.”

“Oh…a-and what did she say?”

“She told me to be honest with you,” it was his turn to breathe shakily, his eyes soft but nervous, “to get it all out there and tell you that I’m in love with you.”

Your eyes snapped to his, positive you hadn’t heard him correctly. There was no way that he said what you had been so desperately wanting to hear for years. This had to be you trying to manifest your dream into reality. He laughed nervously when you didn’t say anything, scratching at the back of his neck awkwardly.

“What did you say?” your voice was so soft and small as you looked at him nervously, “Eddie?”

“I said I was in love with you,” he plopped onto the floor, sitting in front of you as he waited for you to say something - anything.

“Do you mean it?”

“Yes,” he promised, “of course I do. I’d never lie to you. I…I thought you knew, I thought it was so obvious. And then when you started pushing me away, I got scared. I thought I was going to lose you forever.”

You slid off the bed and flopped onto the floor so you were sitting across from him, your leg resting against yours. You swallowed the lump in your throat before leaning in to him, “I thought I was going to lose you forever too.”

He exhaled through his nose sharply, making a small sound of amusement before looking at you intensely, “so…where does that leave us? If you still don’t want anything to do with me, I can leave. Whatever you’d want, I respect.”

Your silence almost killed him as you seemed to be mulling over something. Every moment seemed to take an eternity as he waited for you to speak. He was braced and ready to leave, figuring you really were done with him.

But then, suddenly and surprising the both of you, you leaned in and kissed him. It wasn’t even a proper kiss, more of a brush of lips, saccharine and shy. You sat back down, your entire face and body flushing with warmth as you looked at him nervously. You found the biggest and most lovesick smile on his face as his bambi eyes softened.

He reached for you, his hands settling on your waist before he pulled you into his lap. You gasped in surprise at the suddenness of his action, finding yourself face to face with him. He settled a hand on your face, tenderly brushing his thumb over the apple of your cheek. You couldn’t stop yourself from leaning into his touch, sighing softly as the feel of his soft palm and calloused fingertips.

He leaned in and you couldn't help but wonder what was coming next. Was he going to kiss you and then call it a day? Was he just going to leave? Was he-

Eddie quickly answered your question by kissing you, his hand going from your cheek to tenderly cup your neck. You leaned into his touch and let him take the lead. He didn't stop kissing you until you were dizzied and drunk off his touch. You imagined this so many times, and so many ways, but nothing compared to the real thing.

"I love you," he gently cradled your face in his hands and it felt like he was looking into the depths of your being, into your soul. You wrapped your hands around his wrists and blinked back your tears, “I mean it, sweetheart. It’s always been you. And I’m sorry that I ever did anything to make you like it wasn’t you.”

“It’s been you too,” you whispered softly, causing his cheeks to flush a pretty shade of pink, “always you, Eddie.”

“Fuck,” he sighed softly before kissing you again, “I’ve been waiting so long to hear you say that, sweetheart. You’ve been my dream girl since we met, you know.”

“That’s a strong way of putting it…” you wanted to hide your warm face, but he wouldn’t let you. He shook his head softly, clearly disagreeing with you.

“But it’s true,” he insisted softly, “can I kiss you again?”

“I don’t ever want you to stop,” you confessed sweetly, causing his heart to practically melt, “I want everything with you, Eddie.”

“Everything?”

“Everything,” you promised, taking advantage of his momentary shock to kiss him again. You could feel him smiling against your lips before he kissed along your jaw and down your neck, biting at the delicate skin to leave behind a haze of pretty lavender bruises. You already felt like you’d died and gone to heaven, “Eddie.”

“Can I make love to you?”

“Yes,” you pulled back to your lips and kissed him gently, “please.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie muson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson one shot #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn x reader #st

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 1 year

Text

Right Person,

Pairing: Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x F!Reader

Synopsis: There are few things more heartbreaking than realizing the bitter truth. He was going to be absolutely extraordinary.

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: Heavy angst, blood & gore, descriptions of injuries, canon typical, hurt/(no) comfort, major character death

A/N: This was a request, but I just realized the account was deactivated - sooo, I can only apologize to everyone for this lmfao.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You met him when the blood had already stained right through your uniform, flesh going crusty with dried crimson and adhered gore. The skin visible had become a mosaic of horror, and the long fog over your eyes only spoke fractions of what you had seen in the long hours you were administering what little help you could. Soldiers of all colors and backgrounds who, no matter what you happen to do, were never making it in the first place.

Spilled guts—missing legs and arms. And you were stupid. Hopelessly, foolishly, stupid for wishing they would be able to pull through.

How many times have you seen the exact same thing? Scores. How many times had the patient come back? Barely ever.

You had been the only one still awake when he had come into the medical tent, and even then you had been giving doses of dwindling morphine and checking bandages.

“Broken shoulder,” your lips had murmured numbly, jotting down notes onto the clipboard in your hand. The motionless man in the cot below you was barely even breathing, a shiver-inducing jump in his chest was the only indication of life. “Shattered clavicle and internal bleeding of the abdomen from a knife wound.”

You registered the shifting of feet near the entrance, but the lives bleeding away in front of you were far more important. There was only so much you could do with limited supplies and fellow medics that were more tired than dogs after a race. It had been days of recurring assault on camp and you weren't sure how many more people you could lose before reinforcements decided to show up.

A throat awkwardly clears and snaps you from your scribbles of desperately needed medical materials on the top of the patient report page. You blink down at the list with a stiff swallow of saliva and quivering fingers.

That…that wasn’t supposed to be written there.

Shaking your head, you put your pen into one of your vests’ many pockets before moving back towards the entrance, walking the aisle between rows of cots all occupied by the men and women in the worst condition.

“I don’t have painkillers or extra bandages to spare.” Your voice is scratchy and laced with slightly discernible unease. “If it’s not life-threatening, I can’t help beyond stitches and washing out the wound.”

Passing a large shadow that looms in the entrance, you shuffle to your desk and toss the clipboard down to your desk of metal and strewn papers. An empty coffee cup filled with syringe needles that you have yet to discard safely. Unclipping the past patient's file, you send it into the right stack only to take another from the left and set it in place.

Taking only a moment to stare down at it, you place your hands on the desk and lick your lips, breathing shallowly.

“I don’t mean to interrupt, Ma’am.” Scottish—you’d heard one barking orders on the radio over the course of the attacks; leading Marines and planting detonations on vehicles as you had run from one body to another in the background.

Even covered you once.

You remember a hand on your arm and a flash of blue eyes—a mere glance of a look before you had spotted a woman with her entire left shoulder missing from a sniper round. You’d darted off without a second thought as to the brilliant shade of blue and the concern that had lived blatantly in the dilated pupils.

The cross patch on your shoulder felt heavier that day, and every day after, but at least when you wore it you didn’t have to look at it.

You blink back to the present and turn your head slightly to the side.

He was standing a few feet into the tent, holding something in his large hands that you glance at before your gaze slides to his face. Strong jaw, an arching scar over the chin, and a brunette mohawk to go along with the stubble of his lower face. Deep-set brows that inlay with blue.

The same Scot, then.

He seems to shuffle on his feet when you stare at him in tired confusion, not spotting any injuries that would need your attention along the built form of his body. An awkward laugh pierces your heart.

“Ya missed supper,” the man starts, holding up his hand to show you the twin bags of rations he holds nonchalantly. “Had a hunch you might need it, don’t wanna be up and about without a filled stomach, aye? Far past dark, now, y’know.” A pause. “No one’s seen you for hours, Ma’am. Thought I’d check up.”

You slowly bring a hand to your nose bridge and sigh deeply, feeling the digging eyes stuck on you as they crease. Standing straight, the words exit sullenly as your gut twists.

Dark already? No, I could have sworn it was only one o'clock…Has that much time really passed?

“No time, you can have them.” Grabbing your clipboard, you rub at your neck before trying to force back your increasingly heavy limbs.

“I really think you should eat.” Someone whimpers from down the right row, and your head immediately perks in that direction—feet just beginning to carry you over when fingers hook around your upper arm. As still as stone, yet in no way digging into you.

Your head snaps up in shock.

There’s a moment of complete stillness when you're brought back to the familiar instance from days prior, staring up into bright cerulean like sapphires. You don’t know why, but as you focus on this Scot, your shoulders lose some of their tension; lungs find the refreshment of air a bit easier.

It wasn’t a hard face to look into—not covered with blood like yours or your patients’ visages, either. That at least was a blessing. A kind face.

“You dinnae look healthy, Ma’am. Please.” He levels a stare, large head tilted in sincerity with a bare-bones smile forced to his lips causing his scar to shift. You watch it mutely. His hand was warm, so much like a weighted blanket it nearly left your lashes fluttering. “Just a few wee bites is all I’m askin’.”

“I…” you trail, voice gradually seeping out its sure-fire tone and confidence to leave behind a meek resemblance. Glancing at the men and women in your care, your expression tightens. “I can’t be gone long.”

“Ten minutes.” Sighing, you allow the Scot to lightly drag you outside, holding open the fabric that serves as an entrance door before the fingers over your bicep go to rest on the small of your back.

You had yet to notice, but you hadn’t even asked the man his name.

“Here,” handing you one of the two ration packs, you carefully grab the brown object, peeking inside to spy some concoction of mush. Potatoes and veggies, maybe? A small laugh echoes from the man beside you and you turn to look.

It had been a while since you’d heard someone laugh. Your feet almost give out under you from the sound—a deep rumble of thunder. You’re met with a quirk of a lip, though your own face stays in a state stuck between shell shock and panic.

“I’d say it tastes better, Bonnie, but I’d jus’ be lyin’ to ya.”

“It's alright,” you mutter in retaliation, shaking your head before grabbing the plastic utensil sticking out of the goop. But at the moment you can’t seem to force your appetite to you, though your stomach groans to fill it with sustenance.

The both of you don’t walk far—only a few feet to a small rocky area where you sit a respectful distance away and rest your backs on the stone.

You listen to the brunette eat, ravenous, as though a wild boar was only a hand’s reach to your right. Everyone in camp was hungry. So why can’t you just eat? With your legs crossed, you look down at the portion in your lap with roving eyes.

It was all so far removed. The only thing you knew for certain was that there was blood on your hands; staining your clothes and in your hair. Even the chill of the moon didn’t stop the heat at the back of your neck, though if anyone asked you would say you were as cold as snow.

“You know,” the stocky man speaks, and your ears twitch at the sound, “I don’t think I remember what it is they all call you. Price mentioned your file, but I only had time to give it a glance over.”

You tell him and send a small smile over. It doesn’t meet your eyes.

“Ah, that’s it. Bonnie name for a Bonnie girl.” A hand meets your field of view. “Sergeant MacTavish. Soap or Johnny’s just fine as well—m’not picky, least when I know ya.”

Shaking Soap’s hand was a sullen affair. You were sure he could feel your pulse racing; how your fingers shook but for whatever reason the Scot chose not to mention it. On the other hand, simply having the option to feel living skin was a blessing.

“Price spoke of me?” Murmuring, you let your hand go back to your lap, watching the best you can as Soap sends you soft looks as if he knew talking made your throat swell up. “Haven’t seen the man in years.”

“Hm,” the Scot nodded his head, taking the last bite out of his food before folding up the package. “Said there’s not a better medic I’d want along. Figured I should take the Old Man’s word for it.” A sly look is sent your way.

Body pausing, you say nothing as your lips thin, letting a small silence settle before shifting.

Don’t feel like a good medic.

Soap stares at you, watching with increasingly tightening shoulders. He speaks lowly, “Not gonna eat, then, are you?”

A head is shaking before you can stop it, “Not hungry.” You thought you could do this, but all you can think about is the soldiers you had to mark down as KIA; the staggering number that grows and will continue to grow.

It was utter helplessness. A sense of failure in not only your job but in your humanity. Was this not your purpose? To save lives? Why…why couldn’t you?

“It’s not your fault, Hen, you know that…right?” Your breath stills as Soap’s brows pull in, though he already knew the answer to his question. A blind man could see it; his hands twitch in his lap at your numbed expression. “You’re doin’ more than anyone would have expected of ya. Most of the others here owe you their lives, Bonnie.”

Perhaps it was the way your scowl grew at that, or how Soap’s own comradery was taking a hit, but his chest ached at your swift denial of your own skill. He’d seen you work—he knew that if you weren’t here scores more would be in body bags right now. The Scot swallowed and bit at his lip as you spoke.

“Tell that to the stack of deaths that I have to record.” Blue eyes look to the ground for a moment with a clenched jaw. “Doesn’t seem like I’m doing much of anything.”

The night chill wraps around them both like a storm, neither knowing what to say and not wanting to perpetuate the electricity in the air. You take down air through your nostrils as Soap grunts, messing with his hands in his lap mutely. But the utter aloneness is clawing at your throat, and even with this brief interaction, you know the Scot would never force you to speak to him about all of it.

You glare at the ration pack strangled in your grip.

“Three more are going to die by tomorrow. We don’t have the resources.” Johnny brings a hand to his head, running it over the locks before nodding stiffly. But no one can see his heart drop.

“Who?” The words are almost lost in the breeze.

“Silas, Kara, and Edward.” Soap sucks down a long breath as you stare off into the tree line, feeling the hard rock up your spine as you slightly hunch over. “I…I don’t have enough materials to treat them all if we’re stuck here any longer…”

Your trail, but the insinuation is enough. Johnny’s jaw clenches.

“What do you think we should do?” The question isn’t malicious, but rather a genuine inquiry and a plea for an opinion. “If we leave, they’ll pick us off one by one—sure as all Hell.”

“You want the truth,” you speak slowly, seeing a bird dance in the sky to catch bugs in its tiny beak; twirling like a dancer of silver light and sharp wings. Soap grunts an affirmation. “Run.”

Eyes widened.

“...Run? Steamin’ Jesus, run where? It’s all mountains and open fields.” You shrug, shifting your hand to stare at the dried blood in the lines of your palms. It comes out in a low murmur.

“Anywhere—everywhere. Getting taken out one by one for a purpose is better than dying here for nothing.” Soap sees the look with increasing concern, hand itching at the back of his neck in a soothing motion.

“What about the wounded, Hen?” He asks you, and just as numbly, you respond after a burning starts in the back of your eyes. “We can’t leave ‘em ‘ere.”

“They’re all going to die.” Air goes still. “All of them have already gone too long without proper care. Infections are rampant.” You shake now, staring down at your hand with horror; you had always known the truth. Tried to run from it like a fool. “Internal pooling of blood. Failing organs. Necrosis. I’m not good enough too…”

Life was cruel.

“I’m just not good enough.” Your lips waivered, nose burning with smoke as your cheeks go hot with self-hatred. It wasn’t fair.

Johnny was moving before he truly knew what he could do to help, shuffling closer and grabbing at your hand. His grip totally encompassed yours, covering the blood and the sullied flesh from view.

“Hey, now,” he begins, mouth opening and closing as if not sure what to say. He can’t attest to watching over patients and seeing them all die one by one—sure he’d seen fellow soldiers fall, die slow deaths, but never had he had a wealth of skill to know exactly how to help and then see it fail. Johnny’s face pulled tight at the thought; it was horrible the things you’d had to do these last few days. “None ‘O that, ya hear?”

You feel tears dribble down your chin, pitter-pattering into the ration pack as your nose sniffles; turning to stare pathetically into Soap’s brilliant blues. At the feeling of his firm and grounding grip, the world seems to slowly come back into focus—you listen to the pulse that sings under his epidermis like it’s a lifeline.

“I can’t help them—”

“I think what you need is a bit of a rest, yeah?” Johnny smiles lightly, thumb running back and forth over your knuckles, fingers massaging your pulse point. Your eyes go buggy, arm twitching. The Sergeant lets his tone fall, covering his words with sickly care. “Let me get all that off your little face first, though. Can’t have all that covering up your skin—you’ll get sick from somethin’ no doubt.”

As your mouth quivers when it opens itself, whatever sentence you were going to say was halted when Johnny reached for the water bottle held in its pack from the strap on his belt. An already stained rag follows after, and before you can process what’s happening, a damp cloth is swiping at the swell of your cheeks.

Your skin heats, lips close, as your pulse spikes.

Soap looks incredibly focused, taking delicate swipes like a feather along the bridge of your nose as tears continue to slip past your ducts in gross betrayal. But the rag is just as quick to catch them and soft-set eyes to send you a glance. His free hand rubs circles into your shoulder, and you shiver in retaliation.

That…that feels good.

“How we doin’ then?” The Scot’s gentle care was a surprise to you; for such a man as gruff looking as him, you’d expect a comment to suck it up more than this. Johnny pauses his cleaning, face so close you can feel his breath drying the dampness of your skin. His dark brows crease. “You alright, Little Lady?”

“...I’m okay.” It’s a reflex to say it, but the Sergeant knows better.

“No, you’re not.” A tiny smile leaves you shaking again. “Talk to me. It’s just us.” Soap glances to the treeline, trying a hand at a teasing inflection. “Well, and the damned wild beasts.”

A small flex of your mouth’s corner was all he got, but any expression at all beyond agony was a step in the right direction. The Scots blinks quickly, clearing his throat and going back to wipe away the speckles on your forehead. His other hand gravitates to your chin, carefully tilting it as if you were made of glass.

Your eyes flutter shut with a sigh making its way through your nose; gathering what little semblance of yourself you can between repeating memories and the scent of charcoal from the man ahead of you. Fire and dust.

“Are we going to die here?” You ask under your breath, and the sensation of Soap’s swipes stop in an instant. In your inky blackness, the question haunts you.

The Scot gapes at you, wide eyes showing bitter whites around the rim—for once in his life, there was the sensation of a knife sinking into his heart.

“I…” He stutters, only able to respond when he’d swallowed down saliva and stared off into the trees for a moment; desperate to calm down his brain as defiance seeps in. You shouldn’t have to ask questions like that. “No, Bonnie,” Soap states so firmly that he sees your lids peel back upwards, a flash of your color showing only for him. It steels his resolve. “If it’s the last thing I do, I’m making sure every single man left is makin’ it home. ‘Specially you, yeah?”

You stare, and Johnny lowers the rag, hooking his finger on your opposite cheek and turning you fully to him. The heat under your skin makes him want to bring you even closer, but he refrains. A look is leveled, accompanied by a hard stare. Entranced by your gaze as one would be the moon. “We’re getting out of this—alright?”

“You can’t promise that, Johnny.” It’s a whisper.

“You can bet your arse I can!” He doesn’t mean to raise his voice, but the stress is throat constricting as he says your name, “...I’m getting you home, understand? That’s about as close to a fuckin’ promise as anyone can get. Don’t be talking like that!”

But you only watch with dull hope, a comforting smile pulling at your lips for him. Desperation grows.

In your mind, you knew the bitter truth, but there was something you wanted to confide in him—a sensation of utter surety at the extraordinary man touching you; comforting you.

“You’ll be a great Captain one day, y’know that?” You say the sentence like you won’t be there to witness it, and you know you won't. He knows it too. That bitter, bitter, truth.

“And you can bet your bastard self will be at the after-party, aye?” He doesn’t leave room for doubt verbally, though his jaw is tense and his heart hurting. “Won’t have it any other way.”

A hum echoes.

“Do me a favor?” Johnny is nodding immediately.

“Anything.” The look makes him want to cry—so quickly forming a bond with you and your sad eyes.

“Don’t forget me?”

You’re being corralled into a tight hug before you have an answer, hand going to sit at the back of your head with fierce force. But no more words were exchanged that night; no denials or hopeful sentiments.

But worse than that was the fact that you could have been extraordinary together, had only the Gods come down and linked your fates. If only the sky had fallen and the time stalled in that clearing of old rocks and rations. Blood-stained rags and whispered promises that hold no iron. A brief brushing of souls that had instantaneously yielded to one another only to fall back apart. Wrong time.

You were shot dead the next day.

TAGS:

@blueoorchid, @jxvipike, @revrse, @shuttlelauncher81, @bruhhvv, @kittiowolf210, @aerangi, @spikespiegell, @ghost-with-a-teacup, @1234ilikecowsthanyoumore, @uberraschungg, @neelehksttr, @shoe1412,@jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet, @pukbadger, @omeganixtra, @nanialis, @gills-lounge, @voidinfernal, @sukunas-left-nut-sack, @untoldshortsofthefandoms, @batmanunicorns523, @icepancakes, @copiasratscheese, @besas-stuff, @marytvirgin, @misfne, @halfmoth-halfman, @lothiriel9, @anna-banana27, @jade-jax, @cl0wncxre, @emerald-valkyrie, @michirulol, @330bpm-whiplash, @lora21, @bespectacledhuman, @wolfyland07, @dilfsaremyfavourite, @astronaunt2009, @shmaptin, @levietc, @kk19pls, @semieitabby, @thriving-n-jiving, @cringe-kats, @n1choles, @gaychaosgremlin, @johnpricesprincess, @haleypearce,

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cicada-circuitry · 1 month

Note

Hello I am curious about “we’re not friends.” (because: who is not friends? [I have some guesses]) and “there are only victims of virtue here” because that is a banger title

oh man okay a VERY COOL KID in my inbox LETS GO

11. we're not friends i blame entirely on @moocowmoocow writing this molly/karen femslash february fic that i happened to read right as I was getting to the karen/danny arc in s2 like honestly it might have been literally the first FAM fic i ever read just blindly opening the tag and it gave me some kind of brainworm i could not get rid of. {there really are so many people this title could apply to sooo curious about the guesses}

Tiny snippet:

"Oh! I can come back another time. It's nothing urgent." "Nonsense. He'll be home..." Molly waved a vague hand. "Sometime. Eventually. You can come in. Have a drink. Smoke. Both." Nervously, Karen stepped into the Wayne-free Cobb residence after Molly. "Well, if you're sure he'll be by soon." "Didn't say that." Molly lit a cigarette. Offered the pack. Karen used two fingers to press it away. "No thank you." Seconds ticket by as Molly smoked, leaning idly against the frame of the kitchen doorway, watching her. Karen swallowed and wrung her hands. "If it's going to be a while I can really—" "It really bothers you, being here with just me." Karen's mouth fell open. "No, I— Well, there's no reason for you and I to— You're Ed's friend," she said a little sharply. "Wayne and I are friends. It's... a little odd, but it makes sense, given your— Given his—" "Given Wayne's the astronaut wife." Something about that made Karen flush.

4. there are only victims of virtue here is... margo x irina. i am pretty sure i am never going to post this fic so the fact that there are more than 20,000 words of it is completely inexplicable the margo in russia arc really just hit me like a truck.

its a mix of expanding on a bunch of season 4 itself and an exploration of what might happen if irina gets to decide star city isn't through with Margo after the season ends after all.

here's one early bit of it tacked onto the night after the coup

Her flat is unwelcoming when she stumbles in at quarter to ten. It should be relief, taking off her coat, unwrapping her scarf, fumbling her way into the shower to finish washing the blood out of her hair. She should feel safe now.

She doesn’t. She sees the dark spots in the corners of her shower she’s never been able to scrub away. The flecks on the vinyl curtain she should have replaced months ago. The crack in the cheap mirror whose dingy glass manages to make her look paler than she is. Levering herself down into her bed, it’s not her old life she’s comparing it to. She’s lived in worse. This place has multiple rooms, a functional television, even an out-of-tune piano. It’s not like she’s regressed to her bare bones fresh-out-of-college apartment she never even furnished for preference of furnishing her closet-sized office.

Her broken glasses make a concerning clicking noise when she sets them down on the bedside table. She turns out the light without looking and groans her way into a position that only aggravates every single muscle that’s been tugged the wrong way in the last twenty-four hours, but doesn’t seem like it’ll prevent her from falling asleep. It’s not even that she can’t feel safe in this part of the city anymore, after being forcibly dragged away.

It’s the itching, straining feeling that she shouldn’t be here.

That she was exactly where she was supposed to be three hours ago. Before two of Director Morozova’s silent, scowling men drove her home.

In an empty Roscosmos building scattered with the remnants of its last guard—half-finished cups of coffee, papers strewn across desks and floors, a single broken briefcase leaning up against the knee of the cosmonaut in the mural in the main lobby. Where Irina had said, “I expect you back here tomorrow, Ms. Madison.”

Margo—rattled and bruised and bloody and exhausted as she was—had said, “Are you sure you wouldn’t like me to… stay?”

#congratulations you somehow managed to pick TWO of the rare not margo x molly fics on this list #pretending i am not even SLIGHTLY embarrassed about my choices lmao #for all mankind #margo x irina #irina morozova #karen x molly #c-c answered asks

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sparks-olivarpente · 7 months

Text

Byler Fics Rec: the ones where Mike and Nancy talk

so that's the theme here. Or, the sub-theme, those are still byler fics first ^^

if you fall, I will catch you, I'll be waiting (time after time) by Marigold_Flowers Nancy had started to figure out that these music choices could say a lot about a person and their thoughts and feelings, so, when the first synth sounds of Mike’s song started playing, she made sure to pay special attention, in case it could give her an insight into Mike’s thoughts. -- Mike Wheeler works through his thoughts and feelings thanks to the power of deep conversations, love, and music.

the only thing i've ever had any faith in by eclipseadventure (@storybook-tiles) “God,” Mike starts breathlessly, “we kind of suck don’t we?” Nancy snorts loudly, which almost sends Mike into hysterics again, “Oh definitely, but you know what?” Mike looks over to see Nancy smiling at him, something like… pride written on her face, “I have faith in us.” -- It's the end of the world and Mike and Nancy finally have a talk with each other

Two fics by astrobi (@astrobei) :

no end to this want After two weeks of pleading, sixteen hours of cajoling, forty-seven minutes of wheedling, and ten dollars of chore money forked over, Mike Wheeler finally convinces Nancy to teach him how to drive. Kind of. -- Mike contemplates his feelings for Will Byers, partakes in a concerning amount of swooning, and learns to drive. Sort of.

a body in motion Hawkins, 1986. The world is ending, there are too many people in Mike's house, and, to top it all off, he and Will have some things to talk through. ok there's a LOT more in this one than just a talk between Mike and Nancy sooo this might just be a pretext to share about it again because this fic is so good!

but you come back with gravity by ravenscrest Once his parents are out of sight, Mike turns to Nancy. “You okay?” “No, I’m not,” Nancy admits, hopping on to the kitchen counter. -- The world is ending, one of his closest friends is in a hospital in a coma, his girlfriend isn’t talking to him, and all Mike can worry about is how Will’s smile isn’t reaching his eyes and it’s all his fault.

home is where the heart is by @smoosnoom “It’s a good thing,” Will reassures, and his thumb swipes over Mike’s cheek. Mike thinks he might explode. “It means you’re nice to look at. Artists would love you.” Mike’s heart feels like it’s about to burst out of his chest. Will is still looking at him, and he swallows, throat dry. “Yeah?” Will’s own face reddens, like he’d just thought about what he said. “Yeah,” he answers, and Mike grins. -- Living in a shared apartment with Will is all Mike could ask for, except for the part where he keeps thinking about kissing Will in the middle of their kitchen. also the one where Nancy gives super good advices :)

"or at least until the afternoon" by TheWrongKindOfPC Will asks, "What if you were talking to a friend who was a girl?" but he doesn't mean Max, Mike’s actual friend who is a girl. No, Will’s asking what would you tell me if I were a girl? and the answer to that is something entirely different. -- “Let me know, if you want to talk more about that part. I’m going to let you in on a secret,” she says, leaning up, leaning close, voice going soft. “I’m actually a lot better at giving advice about goals than about boys." -- In which Mike has kind of a rough time in college, and talks on the phone about it a lot.

#byler fic #byler fic recs #nancy wheeler #mike wheeler

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perelka-l · 1 year

Note

Idk what other fandoms you have outside the Naruto fandom sooo how 'bout Madara

uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh i know those links on my profile don't work in mobile and idk how to fix that???? but ye i have a handy dandy list lol

Anyway, meme time:

favorite thing about them

He's a big emotional dumbass with dumbassery maybe rivalring his hair he is absolutely horrible and look how far that got him. Also, six paths form. And everything. Man, it's hard to choose. He's a well constructed villain and also it's kinda cool how whole series starts with mentioning that name in hushed voices of disbelief and fear. for a reason huh.

least favorite thing about them

"i only ever use a jutsu once" bitch and yet you used susanoo over 2137 times in this series shut the fuck up and stop stroking your dick in front of everyone's faces

favorite line

ya think i will say it's about the second meteorite. it is indeed, the second meteorite line. I mean. It's that line, it's excellent for a reason.

brOTP

That man has no bros. Honestly. He doesn't. I cannot answer this question, I have nothing in my mind, he canonically literally scared everyone away and nobody wanted to associate with him, he isn't bitchless, he is broless.

OTP

Oh man, where do I start. I will just go for those that I have most thots about, okie?

For starters, MadaIzu. Like, ofc we didn't have much of them shown but a) Uchiha is incest anyway and I will stand by it and b) Izuna was shown to be the only one that stood next to Madara. Nobody, literally almost nobody in this series could ever achieve that, no matter how willing one was - and Izuna was, I assume, entirely here for Madara. Maybe even was one of few people that thought about him, maybe even had him wrapped around his little finger and Madara would do a lot for his little bro. Man.

MadaObi. WHERE DO I EVEN START like I feel like I am going crazy when I start thinking about it. They are connected on so many fields, Obito being his descendant, Madara getting his body, stitching it together (man, there was that one fantastic art with old madara and obito.... doing precisely that), literally putting his hands on this boy's heart and sealing it (POETRY), brainwashing into becoming himself and later using Obito for all his worth, giving him life and choosing when to take it away, and Obito starting to resists like jfc my brainworms. I like them both as also shit jiji and bratty mago. THEY ARE JUST SO GOOD FUCKKKKKKKK I AM GNAWING AT MY HOODIE LIKE A RABID ANIMAL AAAAAA

HashiMada. That's all. Although... I like it a bit darker, not in means of whump and such but I can't help but thing that Hashirama unknowingly stumbled on something that swallowed both of them. Hashirama may have best interests in heart, but he isn't a good person, and Madara... Madara has his own issues. More below.

MadaTobi is nice. I always found it hilarious how similar they are and yet so different, and I like to think that's why they are so appealing together. Those two are not alright but maybe that's why they could have a relationship that would be akin to watching a slow hurricane in a distance. Gorgeous but pity everyone in its path. Those lads have mental issues but both are crazy scientists, and both are prickly cats, yanno?

I FORGOT MADAGAI HOW COULD I SFJKHD YALL KNOW WHY PPL SHIP THIS SHIT AND ME TOO OK

nOTP

nothing comes to my mind atm

random headcanon

A dumbass ace. And he is a dumbass. Well, more like mentally ill, not like those two things cancel out, but he really genuinely didn't question a moment when he heard a voice in his head say "do x thing" and he just fucking goes and does it. If you ask me, that guy even without zetsu around has some real fucking issues that are either exploited (hashi i see you you fucking whore) or misunderstood... And his power makes it dangerous because he can achieve all that he wants.

unpopular opinion

fem madara superiority ganggggggggggggggggg aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

song i associate with them

Some are: Not Worth Remembering (Turk Dietrich Remix) by SONOIO, Tomorrow by Lorn, Sweet Shadows by Daughter Darling, NO FEAR by §E▲ ▓F D▓G§, Mavericks by Johnossi, Arzusun by Niyaz*, Candy Shop by Andrew Bird's Bowl of Fire, Szamar Madar by Venetian Snares, The Elm Guest House by Gefradah, Velvet Divorce by Sneaker Pimps*, Begin Again by Purity Ring, SINKING by Diskette Park, Subterranean and Empires Lost by melodysheep, Voices in the Static by Hybrid*.

Songs marked with * are 6P specific... Yeah.

favorite picture of them

bitch

#answers #anon #anonymous #man that was long #i have a lot of thoughts about that guy #i could go on and on but it's late asjkdhfsdjf i will continue repolying tmr #thank you aaaaaaall #i like to think in obscure aus its butsuma that is madaras bro dont ask me why #character meme

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darklordofthesimp · 2 years

Text

Undeserving II (Din Djarin x Reader)

After your fight with Din, you eventually found yourself in a quiet cantina to drown your sorrows. However, the Mandalorian was not done with you.

Previous Chapter: Part 1

A/N: I got carried away and wrote an entire bar scene sksksk many apologies. Don't mind me I have no idea wtf I'm doing hee hee this is rough and unedited and I am sooo sorry.

Category: Angst, Mutual Pining, Eventual Fluff

Warnings: Alcohol consumption

Length:

"Another round," you said, tipping your glass up to your mouth. You knew you would need a few more at least. Draining the last of the sweet wine, you set the cup down with a wince. The green substance soothed the ache in your chest but the last few droplets left more to be desired.

The bartender raised a brow. He made no move to prepare another drink, instead leaning his elbows onto the counter. You grimaced. While the handsome creature said nothing, his eyes spoke volumes.

"You might be right," you muttered, pinching the bridge of your nose. The Twi's mouth twisted upward.

"I usually am," he said gently, reaching to recover the glass you held hostage. You sighed as you handed it over, wishing you could ignore him.

You weren't drunk by any means, although you most definitely weren't sober.

"The wine won't fix your problems," he shrugged. Replacing your drink with a glass of water, the bartender smiled. "You're much too clever to resort to drinking."

A red heat blossomed across your already warm face. You swallowed before you spoke, "I'm dumb. That's why I need a drink to begin with."

"I somehow doubt that," he winked.

You narrowed your eyes, "I'm not even drunk, you're losing out on credits by not serving me."

The Twi' laughed and it was a melodic sound. You decided you liked it, furthermore, you found that you actually quite liked him.

"Your sobriety has earnt me more than any amount of drinks," he reassured.

"That's a bad way to do business."

"Don't you worry about me, beautiful," he grinned, flashing straight, white teeth. The amber in his gaze pinned you for a long moment, as though he knew something you didn't.

"Beautiful?" You raised a teasing brow, "that's risky. I could have a partner."

"I know you do," the cerulean hue of his skin deepened. "I just want to make sure he knows not to fumble the ball."

"I don't have a boyfriend," you said slowly. Your heart tugged from within your chest. The simple sentence ripped open the wound the Twi' had briefly distracted you from. You may never have had a boyfriend but you had someone.

Now there is no one.

"You have a partner," he corrected and your body was suddenly on full alert.

"Right," you frowned. Who was he referring to? Did he recognize you from somewhere or had he mistaken you for somebody else this entire time? The alcohol was starting to churn in your stomach and you were suddenly uneasy.

The Twi' was speaking in riddles, something that you were never good at deciphering. Society would work a lot smoother if people were straight forward.

The bartender shook his head, the mischievous curve of his lips widening. Was he laughing at you?

It was time to leave.

As if hearing your thoughts, he jerked his chin towards the exit. "Get out of here, gorgeous."

You paused and your fight or flight instinct waged war from within. The alcohol had numbed the strangeness of the situation but not enough for you to be ignorant. Fumbling through your pockets, you were suddenly unreasonably anxious.

"I- I need to pay," you wheezed, sweaty fingers slipping over the credits. To your surprise, the man simply waved a hand in dismissal.

"It's been covered," he said lightly. "Your partner paid for it before you had even walked in."

Your mouth dried and you felt as though the world was slipping from beneath your feet. Maybe you had drunk more than you thought...

You could feel the bile rising in your throat, there was nowhere for you to stay tonight. You couldn't go back to the ship and face him at this hour. Maker, you could really use his help, though.

"I don't have a partner," you whined dizzily. A hot flush doused your body when the Twi' raised a brow. He pointed toward the back of the quiet cantina, a direction over your shoulder.

"You may want to inform him yourself, then."

You spun on your heel and gripped the bar stool. Was this a trafficking ploy? Would you be snatched by some low life the second you walked out the door?

Dragging your eyes to the direction the bartender had indicated, your breath stalled in your throat.

From a dark booth by the exit, the Mandalorian stared right back.

His armor glinted in the dim lighting, every curve, and every edge defined by the shadows. The hunter was still. There was no drink before him and no child gurgling in his capsule.

He was here for you.

And for the first time, you truly understood how it felt to be the bounty.

"No, no, no," you prayed beneath your breath. You couldn't talk to him in this state, you didn't want to talk to him at all. Lies. With a distressed gasp, you threw your hood over your head. It was too late for that, you knew. He'd locked on to you hours ago and you knew there was no escaping. The sentiment was what mattered, you felt safer beneath the shadow of the cloth.

Adjusting the satchel strap on your shoulder, you lowered your head and made your way for the exit. The closer you got the heavier your breathing became. His visor followed every step you made, but he remained still.

The door slid open, sensing your approach. A frigid wind and uneasy darkness waited on the other side, and as you stepped out, you knew you'd take that chance over the Mandalorian.

Your chest still ached and the green wine did nothing to relieve you. Wasted time was an unforgivable sin but you had no one to blame but yourself. Din had never made himself out to be anybody other than what he truly was, a bounty hunter with a love for his son.

There was no room for anybody else in that picture.

No room for you.

A gloved hand slid across your stomach, as fast as a serpent strike. You opened your mouth to scream and it was immediately stifled by a leather palm. You couldn't breathe. The pressure pushed your head back into their chest as you writhed in a steel grip.

"Relax," Din growled low by your ear. "I just wanna talk."

His grip loosened completely, and your feet gently made contact with the ground. The hunter had pulled you both into an alley and your heart stalled.

"Are you going to kill me?" You rasped, glaring at him through your lashes. You should have known he wouldn't let you walk away, not with his secrets. Information on the child, their known contacts, frequented areas... his name.

"What?" Din said increduously. "Of course not!"

Regardless of his reassurance, you took a large step back. There wasn't much room in the alley to gain space, you were still only an arm's length away. Too close for comfort.

"If I wanted you dead," he began softly, "you'd already be dead."

It was a fair point.

"What do you want, then?" You snapped, the harsh bite in your voice setting him into action. The hunter raised his hands, palms facing you as if to try to placate your anger.

"I want you to come back," he said.

You stared at him for a long moment, eyes straining under the dim light. He was majestic in any situation, a reaper of death on the battlefield and a solemn steel angel in the alleyway. It made you sick.

"No," you rasped. "I won't."

You wouldn't subject yourself to the same pain, over and over. It was torturous and disrespectful to your sense of honor. He of all people should understand that.

"I know you think that I was never happy with your work," he pleaded, hands moving as he spoke. "That's not true."

You gritted your teeth, heart pounding in your rib cage. "I left because I wasn't enough for the mighty Mandalorian," your grin was malicious and mocking. "Not me and not my work, nothing was enough."

"You are!" Din's voice was loud, now. "You're more than enough."

There was a stunned silence, so thick you could have sliced it open. Your mouth felt as though it was stuffed with cotton and the hunter took it as an opportunity to step into your space, barely a few inches from your body.

You could smell the smoke and spice from his flight suit, a mixture that made you sway.

"Listen," his voice wavered even when supported by the modulator. "You were enough. You are enough, ner rusaan."

You scoffed, pressing your back further into the brick behind you. You felt cornered, trapped in the dark with your hunter. Despite your anger and apprehension, you knew he would let you leave if you asked.

"I can't do it without you," he said. It was a lie, but a pretty one at that. Tears collected in the corners of your eyes, and they stung with the feeling of rejection. He'd never made you feel like you were enough, but the more you thought about it the more you wondered.

"Why did I make you so angry?" You whispered, wispy steam clouding the air between you. You hadn't noticed how cold it had become.

"You didn't," the hunter said hesitantly. "I was... worried."

And at that moment, in a grimy alleyway outside a cantina, it had begun to make sense.

Mando had only been upset when you'd injured yourself or put yourself in danger. The electrical burn, the shootout at the cantina, working yourself without sleep for days, falling from the ventilation units- these were normal things that came with the job.

To him, they were avoidable threats to your safety.

"A mechanic always gets bumps and bruises," you said.

"A mechanic doesn't usually get shot for mouthing off."

"Why do you care?"

"Because then I'd have no mechanic."

You stared at him from beneath your lashes, searching for a hint of the man behind the visor. He tilted his head lightly, almost playfully, as if encouraging you to speak- as if he were telling you that he was watching your every move too.

"Hire Peli," you jabbed, although it lacked venom and you both knew it.

"I don't want Peli," he said gently. Your heart shuddered in your chest and you bit your lip to stop the quiver.

"What do you want, Din?" You said his name quietly, something only the two of you would hear. A secret shared between adversaries and lovers alike. It was a reminder that you knew the man beneath the helmet and the breath he let out said that he hoped you did.

"What do you want, Din Djarin," you said the words again.

"I want you."

You said nothing.

You said nothing as his fingers slowly fell against your cheek and nothing as they traced your lips. Nothing when he grasped your chin lightly and tilted your head upward.

Nothing when he slowly lowered his head to yours.

A Keldabe Kiss.

The Mandalorian Kiss.

The beskar was cold against your forehead and your eyes fluttered shut when you realized what he had done.

"Come back with me," his voice was soft, pleading for your permission. "Come with me, Meshl'a."

"I don't..." You trailed off, unable to form a tangible sentence. His presence was overwhelming; his scent of smoke and spice, the rasp in his words, his hands running along the length of your arms... the kiss.

"Come with me and I will praise every job you complete," he'd begun rambling somewhere within his imploring sentences.

"You'll be protected," he said running a finger towards your shoulder.

"You'll be rewarded," gloves glided across the length of your neck.

"Appreciated," he whispered as he parted your lips. You could taste leather and smoke as he spoke sweet nothings. This was a new kind of torture, you decided as his other hand softly pressed into your waist.

"Do we have a deal?" Din asked and he removed his hand from your mouth, resting it against the nape of your neck.

You don't know why you thought you would be satisfied without him. Or why you'd even glanced sideways at the bartender in the cantina, there was nothing that could compare to the man before you.

He was captivating and you'd always been enamored by his presence. A sheer indomitable will that was softened by his love for his clan. A clan that included you.

"Don't leave me hanging," he teased, pulling you from the black hole you'd fallen through.

He knew your answer.

He knew you were his just as he knew that he was undoubtedly yours.

Din just wanted to hear you say it.

"Of course," you whispered. "It's a deal."

Fic Taglist: @seafrost-fangirl @spacecatbowtie @kurlyfrasier @eclipsedplanet @misswoodhouse @wurldisavampire

#din djarin x reader #mandalorian x reader #din djarin #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x y/n #star wars #the mandalorian #din djarin x you #baby yoda #grogu

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ca-8 · 3 years

Text

Yakko x Reader Scenario: When You First Meet

'This is it. The beginning of the end.'

Gripping on the straps of her backpack, (Y/n) exited the bus and stared up at the water tower that displayed the famous Warner Bros. logo. As expected, it emitted a smug aura onto the entire area; however, surprisingly, there was a slight twinge of mystery to it as well. But she didn't have time to ponder about it, so she only gave it an uneasy look and headed straight for the entrance.

Her heart stopped. She knew the place was going to be busy, but it was like an entire New York City packed in one section! So many writers, producers, actors, large men carrying heavy sets, every type of person working in film was scattered all over the place. It was like an ocean, with the people as marine life doing what they're designed to do, and (Y/n) being the puppy that was abandoned at sea.

The moment it all settled in, an involuntary realization invaded her thoughts. 'I don't belong here.'

The young girl reminded herself to breathe and rushed over to a vacant wall, then pulled out her phone. She had already sent her mother about a thousand messages telling her she was here, but since she hasn't responded, a few more shouldn't hurt. Fingers rapidly typing away, she bit her lower lip, already wishing she had stayed on that bus.

"Oh, you're just gonna love it!" Her mother's squealing voice had already filled her skull. "You're so talented, I know you're gonna fit right in."

'Yeah, standing around all day with a bunch of people I don't know while doing something I suck at is exactly how I wanna spend my summer.' She let out a soft sigh. 'It's fine. Just shut up and make her happy, (Y/n).'

Several attempts of calling and texting later, no response. (Y/n) sighed again, and her eyes wandered over to the bustling crowd. 'No way. Absolutely no way.' But if she wanted to get the day over with, absolutely yes way.

First, she walked up to a lady looking down at the clipboard in her hands. "Um, excuse me," (Y/n) said.

The lady's head snatched up. "KYLE!" she yelled, her eyes now ablaze with fury, "YOU IDIOT! THAT GOES IN THE WAREHOUSE ACROSS THE STUDIO!" And like there was nothing but a breeze behind her, the lady stomped off to the poor soul that had to face her wrath.

The breeze took a step back and ran around the corner. 'Maybe I'll find someone else instead…!' (Y/n) stopped and spotted a man sitting on the steps that lead to the entrance of a small building. She swallowed whatever was left in her mouth and reluctantly approached him.

"E-Excuse me, sir?" she stuttered, hoping her voice was louder than the last time. As she got closer, (Y/n) noticed he was chuckling, and his gaze was glued onto a small piece of paper.

"I...I did it…!" he said. She yelped and shrinked back when he suddenly jumped to his feet. "I FINALLY DID IT! WE'LL SEE WHO'S REGRETTING THE DIVORCE NOW, MARGARET!" And with a manic laugh, the man dashed into the building.

'...Or maybe I'll just find it myself.'

It wasn't too long before (Y/n) got herself lost. Despite the help of maps that were stuck to some of the buildings, all of them seemed exactly the same. It was like a maze, and with each passing minute, she was more and more convinced that there was no finish line. Even worse, her mother was too busy to respond to anything she sent her.

'Oh, what should I do?' (Y/n) thought for the thousandth time. No matter how hard she pinched or held them, her arms refused to stop trembling. Not too long ago, the outside of the studio became deserted and she'd hate to walk in a warehouse and possibly interrupt something important, so asking for help again was out of the question.

...Or, perhaps it wasn't.

A tiny, hopeful smile crossed (Y/n)'s face when she heard the sounds of frustrated grunts around the corner. It was the first time she was so relieved to see a stranger.

And thank god that stranger was a security guard. Though she wondered why he had a giant net in his hand, she shoved the curiosity as far in the back of her mind as she could and reached up to gently tap his shoulder.

"Um, excuse me sir?" she asked as loud as she could.

His head whipped around, revealing angry eyes and a scowl that said he was ready to kill. But right as his gaze landed on her, it changed within an instant.

"Oh, hello!" he said with a bright smile.

(Y/n) blinked, cocking her head. ‘What was this guy up to?’

"I'm sorry to bother you, but do you know where (M/n) (L/n) is filming? I'm her daughter, (Y/n), and I'm trying to look for her. She's not answering her phone either."

His joyful expression slowly melted into a confused one. "Uuhhh…(M/n) (L/n)?”

“Yes. She’s a part of Animal Kingdom? Do you know where that’s being filmed?”

“Oh! I know there’s a zoo around here called Animal Kingdom! I don’t think you’ll find it in a film studio, though.”

(Y/n) frowned. “...No, I mean the show. Aren’t they filming in a warehouse today? Do you know where that is?”

“Who’s ‘they’?”

Her eye twitched, and she was just about ready to drown the entire studio in the nearest ocean. “N-Nevermind, I’ll just-”

As if the universe wasn’t satisfied with tormenting her enough, the security guard suddenly launched up into the air and flew into the sky. Right before her eyes, the heavens were coated with explosives of every color that ever existed.

“Oh my god!” (Y/n) yelled. ‘Who strapped fireworks on that guy?!’

“Oh, I knew you’d love it!”

Her eyes were ripped from the loud fireworks show as she was immediately smothered in a hug. “It’s so nice that another girl’s here! All the other ones here are either too busy or just keep shouting about a restraining order for some reason. I dunno, but anyway, I just know you're gonna love it here! Anyway, my name’s Princess Angelina Louisa Cantessa Francesca Banana Fanna Bo Besca the third! But since we're friends now, you can just call me Dot.”

This confirmed it. This was a trap set up by her mother to deliberately drive her insane, because how else can someone explain the nut jobs and talking dogs in pink dresses?

A combination of those two things happened to be clutching her head and digging her face into hers. “...Huh?” (Y/n) mumbled.

‘Dot’ jumped off of her and smiled widely. “Sorry about Ralph by the way. I figured out you were coming at the last second and I really needed someone for your welcoming gift.” she said.

(Y/n) glanced up at the sky where the fireworks were slowly dying down. “Um...Is he gonna be okay?” she asked.

“Of course he will!” her backpack said.

The teen screamed and threw her bag on the ground. A hand popped out and unzipped it with impossible ease, then a taller boy version of Dot jumped out, pulling up his long brown pants and flashing a grin.

“H-...H-H-How did you…?!” (Y/n) stuttered, pointing at him.

“What? Never heard of cartoon logic?” he said, approaching her. “And Ralph’ll be fine. His skull’s so thick, concrete’s the last thing that can kill him.”

“What-?”

“Anyhow,” he walked over to Dot and put an arm over her shoulder, “The name’s Yakko, this here’s my beloved baby sister Dot, and this is-” He stopped, staring at the empty space to his left. He leaned into Dot, whispering, “Say, uh, you don't mind looking for Wakko, do ya sis?”

Dot glanced at (Y/n) for an uncomfortable moment and suddenly shot her brother a glare. "I've got eyes all over this studio, Yakko," she warned, slowly stepping away.

Now (Y/n) certainly knew she didn't see pairs of eyes appear around every inch of her sight. 'Oh god, I didn't breath in drugs on the way here, did I? Actually, that would explain whatever the heck's going on.'

Yakko smiled as he watched his sister leave and turned to (Y/n). He walked closer to her, and she realized that his half-lidded eyes had a strange glint in them. “Sooo, your name’s (Y/n), right? A pretty name for a pretty girl.”

(Y/n)’s face heated up. ‘First I get lost, then see a guy get blown up, and now some other guy’s flirting with me? ...To be honest, this is still better than what Mom had planned for today.’

“So what brings ya’ here?” he asked.

“O-Oh, well, my Mom was supposed to give me a tour of the studio, but I’ve been giving that to myself all day. I tried finding her, but I’m pretty sure I’m nowhere near it by now.” Her eyes wandered over to the ground, but a realization made them perk back up and over to Yakko. “Hey, do you happen to know this place by any chance?”

“Know it? Please, my sibs and I live here, we know this place by heart and soul!” He mumbled something else, along the lines of “Basically made our hearts and souls”.

Her heart jumped; finally, a piece of good news. “Really?” she said, a smile spreading across her face.

He nodded. “So where do ya’ need to go?” Before she could answer, he pulled out a piece of folded paper and moved in so close, their shoulders were smooshed together. Yakko unfolded it, and it turned out to be the biggest map (Y/n) has ever seen. “Well, from here, you’re gonna need to take a right and continue straight until you get to the Harry Potter and Fantastic Beasts exhibit. But be careful, I heard some of them escaped, and if anyone asks if you’ve seen any of them, don’t tell them I gave one to Dot as a late birthday gift. Anyway, you take a left from there, then a right where you’ll see the lot where they used to shoot Game of Thrones. Now this is only a rumour I’ve heard, but I think some of the producers are still on that set. If you happen to see them, do not, I repeat, DO NOT mention season eight, or maybe just don’t mention the show at all. Actually, don’t even look at them. As a matter of fact, you probably shouldn’t even go there at all, just keep heading straight until you get to the D.C. Universe lot. Then you just take left there, then a sharp right over over, then you keep going straight until you get to here, turn up over there, turn right there, and then you’re there. Did ya’ follow all that?”

(Y/n) stared at his face, which was practically radiating with enthusiasm, and she felt her eye twitch again. “...No,” she said, shaking her head.

His smile dimmed, but it became just as bright as the sun again a split-second later. “Ah well, maps are gettin' old anyways,” he said, throwing the map over his shoulder. “WAKKO!!”

And, low and behold, another anthropomorphic dog popped out of nowhere, and (Y/n) was starting to question if there was an army of them hidden somewhere. But she had to admit, it was pretty cute how this one was dressed in an oversized blue sweater and red hat.

“Tablet, please,” Yakko said politely, holding out his hand.

‘You're not gonna walk me there-?'

Wakko suddenly held his head back with his cheeks puffed out, then leaned into Yakko’s hand as he forced out a small object from his mouth. After an incredibly uneasy moment, a tablet glazed in spit was in Yakko's grasp. While he praised the little guy, (Y/n) forced back the urge to vomit.

“E-Ehhhh…?” She couldn’t say anything else while her gaze frantically went back and forth from Wakko and the regurgitated tablet.

“Oh! Where are my manners?” Yakko said. “(Y/n), this is my dear little brother, Wakko. Wakko, this here’s our new special friend, (Y/n).”

“Hello!” Wakko greeted, who was suddenly in her arms. “You’re really pretty!”

“Ehh? Thank you? I guess??” she said apprehensively, and finally managed to make eye contact. Despite his...quirks, he's actually a little adorable... She let herself grin a little.

The moment of semi-peace was ruined when she took notice of Yakko’s narrowed eyes. “ALrighty, (Y/n)!” he said loudly, grabbing his little brother by the collar and gently setting him on the ground. “Animal Kingdom, right? Let’s get ya’ right over there.” He moved right beside her and taped the screen a couple times.

“Um, what’re you doing exactly?” she asked.

“Doing what every person does to get somewhere nowadays.” He grabbed her waist and pulled her against him, and (Y/n) flinched from his touch. “Please keep your arms, legs, and personal items inside the tablet at all times.”

Just when she was about to question him for the hundredth time, he pressed the screen again, and her vision became nothing but white. Her body felt like it was launched into a tornado; a strong force of wind thrusted her back, and somehow, the boy’s arm kept her from flying off from his side. A second later, her feet were back on the ground, the sky was where it needed to be, and reality was back in place.

Except for (Y/n)’s mentality.

She stumbled around, trying to find her balance as the world unbearably whirled around her. Finally, she shook her head, and quickly turned back towards Yakko, whose face tried to tell her whatever happened was perfectly fine and normal.

“What was THAT?” she yelled, staggering towards him and gripping his shoulders.

And he still had the audacity to have that 'why-are-you-freaking-out-so-much-we-do-this-every-Friday' smile. “Thank you for attending Warner’s Travel Tours! I would say my Agent Ralph’ll take your bags, but I left him alone with my sibs, so he’s probably in the middle of the Pacific Ocean by now.”

(Y/n) could only stare at him. Her mind was twisting and turning, trying so hard to make any sense of what happened but only making her headache grow larger and larger. And then, her thoughts just went blank.

She smirked. Then giggled. And a few seconds later, she had burst out laughing whilst holding her stomach. (Y/n) looked back up at Yakko, wiping a tear from her eye. “Th-Thank you…” she said, catching her breath.

His smile had grown and she thought his white cheeks were red for a moment. Yakko had opened his mouth, but whatever he was about to say was cut off by a net suddenly covering his entire body. Ralph was behind him, his skin and clothes burnt and ears practically smoking. “You’re coming with me, Warner!” he said.

And yet, Yakko only grinned. Like physics was his enemy, he disappeared from inside the net and appeared sprouting from the security guard’s back, cheerfully waving at (Y/n). “I’ll see ya’ around, yeah?” he said, then ran around the corner with Ralph sprinting right after him.

(Y/n) giggled and reached for the straps around her back. But when she only felt the (f/c) fabric of her shirt, her smile dropped, and a deep sigh escaped her lips. “Great…” she whispered.

“(Y/N)!”

She gasped as a pair of arms squeezed the life out of her. Her mother spun her around to face her gleaming smile, which was immediately replaced by an apologetic frown. “I’m so sorry I didn’t get your texts! That scene took forever, but I’m glad you found your way here! You’re so smart! Anyway, I know we don’t get as much time now, but there’s still so much we’ll be able to see!...”

She rambled on and on and on and on. Her daughter’s shoulders slumped and she followed her to where she wanted her to go, but the frown on her face didn’t last long when she remembered the fun she had just a few seconds ago. ‘Maybe this summer won’t be that bad.’

#is this how you write him lmao #i love this boi so much #animaniacs #cartoons #x reader #fanfiction #the reader in this is like 15 dont worry lol #im bored #yakko warner

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shushiyuii · 3 years

Note

G! Tommy t!sbi (irl if it’s ok with you)

hurt/comfort vore

I hope this is close to what you wanted! I hope you enjoy it too!

Warnings: Slight fearplay, (kind of mentions to fatal?), Soft vore.

Words: 1.3K+

“FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! I HOPE YOU DIE! FUCK YOU!” He screamed irritably into his mic. They were just playing Skywars and Wilbur had to be an absolute dickhead! He thought they were a team… Brothers… But he was betrayed!

Philza and Techno laughed at his reaction, with Wilbur continuing to argue back, barely holding back his own laughs as he playfully argued with Tommy. “If I were right next to you Dickhead! I’d swallow you whole, Asshole!”.

Wilbur went silent after that, not inheritably in a bad way. It was a sort of monotone silence as to why Tommy said it so nonchalantly. The three of them knew of the teen being a giant and paid no mind to it, but they found it odd since Tommy wasn’t usually one to speak about a giant’s qualities.

It seems Tommy was on the same boat as he went silent after that, after a couple of moments of silence, Techno asked, “Tommy, why’d you say that exactly?”.

Tommy began to mumble incoherently, trying to find a solid answer, only to come to the conclusion that he didn’t know. “Dunno? Maybe heat of the moment?”.

It was known that Giant’s could swallow borrowers, although not common it was known to be entirely safe if they were sent to a giant’s storage stomach.

But due to the ancient times of a traditional of Giant’s eating borrowers, it kind of became obscured to a point many found it weird to this point of the day.

Soon after Techno and Wilbur left the call, not because they were uncomfortable, it was just they had personal affairs to attend to, not only that, but they had to get ready for Tomorrow’s trip.

“Hey mate, you, okay?” Phil asked after none made an attempt to speak, “What do you mean?”, he asked wondering why Phil’s tone sounded concerned. “Well, after saying about the whole ‘eating’ thing, you’ve been mainly silent”.

He made an ‘oh’ sound in reply, “Uhm, not really sure? Just thought it was a sore topic for you guys. Sorry about that”, “No, no, no mate. It’s fine honestly, no need to worry about it”. “But-“, “No buts! Shit, sorry toms- I gotta go. I’ll see you tomorrow alright?”.

He hummed in reply, soon he heard the sound of the discord call ending, he then turned off his computer and went to bed.

The next morning his alarm went off and with it, Tommy was wide awake since soon he’d be seeing his online family in real life! Which was exciting beyond excitement!

He shot up from his bed, got ready as quickly as possible, nearly slipping on the bathroom floor as he brushed his teeth then shot down the stairs and demanded that he and his dad left immediately. They made sure the car was ready for everyone and made their way.

The car ride may have taken forever with his impatience but when he was finally there he practically sprinted into the parking lot of the main centre of London, there were many people but he looked for areas borrowers were more likely to be at, like the small patches of grass, benches and walkways but couldn’t see them.

That was until he was crouched down next to a couple of borrowers, who were looking at him weirdly when he heard laughing, “What are you doing toms?”. His head whipped around to see three tinies on a nearby platform, He stood up to the platform, “Guys!”.

He caught the tinies by surprise when he scooped them into his hands and nuzzled them with his nose. They were barely able to keep their balance and try to hug the boy back. “Alright mate! Calm down a little bit!”. Phil laughed as Techno kept trying to keep Tommy away.

Tommy took his head away, “Sorry! I’m just excited!”. “I can tell!” Wilbur laughed and made sure he wouldn’t fall down. Tommy looked over the three of them to make sure they were okay and then made his way to his car where his father would be.

The three talked about what they were going to do and such and how much fun it was going to be! But the first plan was to settle down for the night in Tommy’s home since they were tired from travelling and have all the excitement Tomorrow since well, they had about 2 weeks here.

Soon when they arrived at the house, Tommy helped them settle down in a space they had prepared for the tinies, with a button that alerted them in case they needed anything along with beds, food, utilities etc.

“This is a nice room you got Toms!” Wilbur said amused as he looked around the room, “Is that a Lovejoy poster?”, asked Techno pointing to one of the walls. “Awwh! Toms-“ He was cut off as Tommy went to cover the poster, “No! No! No! Dickhead!”

Soon, they settled down and decided to play games, the borrowers sitting either on or nearby Tommy, with their tiny controllers Tommy had gotten, they played competitive games like Rocket League and such.

Then, it came time to settle down for the night, It seemed they were okay with joining Tommy in bed as they were all too exhausted to move to their guest beds.

It seemed Wilbur still had some energy though as Tommy was talking to the others, Wilbur moved towards his face. Tommy looked over to Wilbur in confusion, usually, borrowers found fear being so close to a giant’s face.

Wilbur seemed to have an amused expression, “What was that about swallowing me whole, again?”. Tommy almost jolted but had to stop himself from shooting up from the bed, not wanting to accidentally hurt the others.

Wilbur leaned on his cheek, “Sooo?”. He said teasingly, he turned his head in the other direction, Wilbur not letting go, “Come on Toms! I know you wanna do it!”. “Wil- I- What are you trying to do?”.

Wilbur smirked, “What’s wrong?”. “I don’t wanna swallow you whole Dickhead! I shouldn’t-“. “Toms”. Techno caught the attention of the two.

“Don’t think we haven’t noticed you not eating all day”, “Wha-“. “Tommy, it’s fine mate, I didn’t have time to tell you yesterday, but we aren’t against that sort of thing if you really wanted to. That answered his concerns.

He hated to admit it but they were right, he may not have been trying to hide whatever instinct he had and he hated it. He hated that he wanted to just scoop up his friends and keep them safe. It felt wrong.

His face turned one of shock to one of contemplation, two sides of himself conflicting, saying that this was wrong but also at the same time wanted so badly to do it.

There was a moment’s silence during this, Wilbur seemed to notice and decided it would be better to just help the boy out.

He caught Tommy’s attention when he came directly in front of his face, “Wilbur what are-“, Wilbur in a quick movement, shoved himself into Tommy’s mouth, Phil and Techno looked over in amusement at the situation.

He wanted to spit Wilbur out but, then he felt what seemed to be a rub on his tongue, allowing him to get a taste of Wilbur, “Go ahead Toms, It’s fine”.

And with that he swallowed, Wilbur, being sent down to his storage as the taste of cinnamon still on his tongue. He smiled as he felt Wilbur safely land in his storage.

He looked over to Techno and Phil, “Who’s next?” and smirked. Phil volunteered too, he carefully picked him up and shoved him in, being mindful of the teeth. He sucked on Phil’s flavor for a moment before sending him down with Wilbur.

Then there was Techno, who gave Tommy a bit of a playful fight, despite it being with half effort due to his exhaustion, but Tommy didn’t mind and soon, he joined the others.

Once they were all tucked in for the night, he placed a hand over his stomach and hummed, satisfied. And soon wished goodnight to everybody.

#mcyt g/t #mcytg/t #dsmp g/t #tiny!techno #tiny!wilbur #tiny!phil #giant!tommy #shushi's writings #tw vore

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eclipsedpascal · 3 years

Text

Making Daddy Proud

Stepdad!Duncan x Female Reader

After moving in with your estranged mother and her new husband, Duncan Shepherd, you started to grow very close to your new stepdad. The two of you had a great relationship and he was doing his best to be a good father figure for you, knowing you missed your dad so much. But there was a problem, you found yourself insanely attracted to him and were starting to notice little things indicating he might feel the same way.

Warnings: very inappropriate relationships, Stepfather/stepdaughter relationship, Cheating is ofc implied, 20+ year age gap, daddy kink, unprotected sex (but I kinda imagined the reader to be on birth control so is okie😌) fingering (female receiving), choking, vaginal sex, oral (male receiving) and face fucking😃

Notes: Okie sooo I know some people will hate this fic and ofc I understand that, but if you do hate it then please don't send me any hate!! just don't read it🖤 anywayss I got dis ask saying "Concept: Stepdad Duncan x naive reader😉" nd omg i LOVE the whole concept of Stepdad!Duncan sm, like if you've been in the fandom for a while you'll probably know the fic "The Hand That Robs the Cradle" by Langdonsrapture nd that fic was my holy grail when it came out!! so you know I just had to go all out here nd get carried away writing it hehe:')

word count: 5.4k

●●●●●●●●

The opportunity to study political science at American University in Washington DC had been one you simply couldn’t pass up on, but unfortunately it meant moving away from your father to stay closer to campus grounds. You knew it was worth it in the long run, I mean you had been waiting on this chance for years and wanted to make your father proud, but you would miss him.

He was never home too much, always busy working, but he meant the world to you. It had been just the two of you for a long time now. Your mother had moved away once their divorce finalised 7 years ago, impulsively leaving you in his custody as she ran off and gallivanted around the world, meeting all sorts of interesting men she would tell you about.

Luckily for you, she had settled down with one of those interesting men in DC recently, and upon discovering your acceptance into the prestigious university she had offered you a place to stay whilst you studied.

It was a frightening move to make, but staying with your mother in DC had actually been pretty interesting. You hadn’t spent time with her in so long and it had been nice to catch up with her, I mean sure she had been a little distant, but that was expected with having not spent any real time with her in so long.

You were just grateful she had let you stay with her in the first place, thinking she would have probably preferred to be left alone with her new husband, Duncan Shepherd.

They had been married about four months when you moved in and from what you could see, things were going well; especially considering she had sprung the engagement on everyone pretty fast. You were just happy knowing she was happy.

Though you had only met the man in question once before moving in, he really seemed like a perfect partner. He didn’t have a single obvious flaw to him, but see that was the problem. He was completely flawless to you.

You had tried to find things you didn’t like about him, even just tiny things, thinking hating him would be far better than thinking of him the way had been, but no matter what you did, you just couldn’t seem to fault him. And the longer you stayed with them, the worse your little problem became.

You weren’t 100% sure of how old he was. You only knew he was in his early to mid forties. But being at least 20 years your senior, you knew he was definitely old enough to be fulfilling the role he was as your stepfather. It felt strange to have a new stepdad at the age of 20, (almost 21) but it was even stranger with you being so blindly attracted to him.

And it wasn’t even just his looks. Though, yes, they were quite the spectacle, it was more than that. He was confident and cocky, always knowing exactly what to do and say to make the people around him do whatever he wanted them to. He could make you laugh until your stomach was in cramps, and not just through telling dad jokes. Charisma rolled off of him in waves.

He was intuitive and crafty; smart to put in plainly. And his interests appeared to be more intellectually based than anything else, which was quite the opposite of your mother, so it baffled you as to how your mother had managed to snatch him up so easily in the first place.

Now it’s not that you were jealous, really. It was more that you didn’t understand how these two polar opposite personality’s had ended up colliding together in the manner that they had.

Whenever the three of you would sit and have an evening meal together, Duncan always made you feel welcomed in the conversation, which was a great comfort to both you and your mother, being the relationship you had was so strained. Because of this and the fact you both had quite a lot in common when it came to your interests, Duncan and you had become almost good friends in the small time that you had been living there.

It was obvious he was doing his best to be some kind of fatherly figure to you. knowing that you were missing your actual dad, he did his best to help you with the things he knew your dad usually would. Whether it was school work or just having someone to joke with from time to time. He was there.

Sometimes when he was there, though, you felt like maybe, just maybe, he felt something more too. Such as the moments where his stares would linger on your form for just a little too long, or the way he would sometimes fix your hair for you if it had strayed across your face the wrong way. Just small things he did that fatherly figures didn’t typically tend to do with their daughters; especially when his wife, your mother, was right there. Sure, she seemed oblivious to it, but you certainly weren’t.

●●●●●●●●

Taking your now lukewarm cup of coffee from the breakfast bar counter, you brought it to your lips and gulped the bitter liquid down, fighting viciously to stay alert. It was nearing 3am and you had been writing for hours. Concentrating was no longer your most favourable asset and your half lidded eyes were growing wearer by the minute, but you just had to finish this paper.

It was 17 percent of your grade and due in two weeks. A persuasive essay on propaganda within the current American political climate and you had been slowly working at it for weeks, but you knew if you left it hanging over your head any longer it would drive you insane.

Sitting back in the stool you resided on, you took quick solace in the many noises coming from the ajar kitchen window, listening to a low rumble of thunder, accompanied by the constant pitter patter of rain falling from the gloomy DC sky above. It had been hot and humid all week, eventually cultivating into large clouds that had now given in, spilling out showers for almost the entire day past.

You recalled all the time you’d spent by the pool with your mother and Duncan in the past week, enjoying the current heatwave by sunbathing next to it on one of the many loungers. The house was kind of set up like a hotel that way. With Duncan always needing to be prepared for any events he may have to hold for his company’s business associates or press, he had furnished the home with what was to the three of you, unnecessary seating and tableware; amongst other things.

You stirred, returning your eyes back to the last few lines you had written and attempted to go over them in your head, but quickly realised you couldn't even manage that without stumbling over them or jumbling the words up beyond comprehension.

Abruptly interrupting your confused stream of thought, was the kitchen door groaning open. So with a frown plastered to your face, you shot your head up to recognise the intruder. But your frown was quickly blown away at discovering that it was Duncan who had entered the balmy room, and he was in more glory than you had ever seen him.

You had seen his silhouette whilst he showered before. Having gone into his and your mother’s shared bedroom whilst searching for earrings, you had seen him through the whited out, frosted glass of the on-suit bathroom door. But this was something entirely different. This was him, stood in kitchen doorway with nothing on but his grey Calvin Klein boxers.

“Y/N? I didn’t know you were still up.” He quirked a brow at you, wondering why you were still sat in the kitchen so late at night. You swallowed deeply at the sight of him. Your eyes magnetised to his body, dilating with such a sultry image before them. Pulling your eyes back up to his face, you hoped he hadn’t seen their little detour down to his crotch.

“Uhm.. i’m, uh.. w-working on an essay.” Fuck! He’ll definitely know how nervous you are now. You looked away from him, too embarrassed to face him and cringing at your own attempt to speak. “It’s due in next week and I wanted to get it finished.” Okay that’s better, you thought. Maybe he’ll just think you’re just too tired to have a proper conversation or something.

“Oh, right,” he trailed off, looking you up and down a bit as he walked further into the room. You watched the back of his head as he opened the fringe, holding it open and scanning the contents of it. Deciding on a small bottle of water, he retrieved it from the middle shelf before closing the door and walking over to lean on the opposite side of the counter from you.

He didn’t seem too bothered by the fact he was practically undressed in front of you. Of course, you weren't complaining, but it was interesting. You tried to think of something else you could add to your open word document, wanting to distract yourself from his displayed body. But thinking as hard as you possibly could, your mind still brought you nothing.

You awkwardly pulled at the sleeve of your oversized ‘American University” sweater and hoisted it back up onto your shoulder. It had ridden down your arm whilst you were aggressively fiddling with your fingers - a nervous habit you had developed in your early teens. People would often point it out to you, but it was just one of those things you couldn’t stop doing.

There was a deafening silence stuffed between the two of you. So looking around the room, you tried to focus on anything in your line of vision that wasn’t him. It was just too hard seeing him like; his plump lips wrapped around the bottle’s mouth as he drank, his sleepy un-styled curls falling just above his perfectly manicured brows and wearing nothing but those fucking grey boxers. He was making it unbearably hard not to stare.

Deciding to speak, you cleared your throat. “So did you just wake up? Or could you not sleep?”

“Just couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking about the most random shit.. and you know how your mom is, she snores a lot.” He chuckled. His eyes never leaving you, beginning to feel as if they were boring holes into your soul as you kept full eye contact with him.

“Yeah, that must get pretty annoying.” You nodded slowly, thinking about how many nights you had spent wide awake when you were younger, all due to her roaring, loud snores passing through the paper thin walls of your childhood home.

“It does.” A smile played on his lips, taking another swig of water before speaking again. “so what’s the essay about?”

“It’s that one I was telling you about a few weeks ago, if you remember. it’s a persuasive on propaganda within the current American political climate.” You reminded him of the conversation you had about it when he dropped you off to class one morning not too long ago. The two of you often carpooled together, with the University campus being so close to his office, it made for an easy drive on the days he was needed in.

You guys would listen to playlists together on the drive and make fun of each others music taste, that was when you weren’t too busy being amazed by how similar they could be.

“Are you struggling with it? I mean, it is getting pretty late now.” He turned to check the clock which hung on the wall behind him, then looked back at you questioningly.

Duncan was good at helping you with this kind of thing. He was extremely well versed in politics, with his family’s background and all. Your mom had told you he used to be very involved with the white house, saying when he was younger he even went to prison for a short time before president underwood had pardoned him.

“I just can’t concentrate, but I really need to get it done or it’ll stress me out.” You lifted your bare feet up onto the stool seat, your knees coming up to your chest so you could rest your chin on them. You were only wearing panties with the sweater, it being too hot to wear anything more.

“Can I come over and check it?” He closed his bottle of water, tightening the lid with his muscular arms as he spoke. You had almost forgot he wasn’t wearing much before he said this, but watching him screw the bottle cap on as he asked to could come round to your side of the counter? It had you weak for him all over again.

“Uh.. yeah, course.” He padded his bare feet over the white, tiled flooring towards you, placing the bottle down on the counter and moving behind you to read the most recent paragraphs you had written. His hand was stretched over to the other side of you, resting on the edge of the breakfast bar as the skin of his arm grazed across your back.

Even with you being sat on such a tall stool, he still managed to tower over you. His hight was usually intimidating as it was, but with the added factor of him being almost completely undressed it was even worse. A small waft of air blew his expensive cologne towards you, creeping past your nostrils and possessing your senses completely before you started to feel his breathe on your upper neck. It wasn’t heavy, but it was enough to make your cunt start pulsating.

You were disgusted by yourself. He’s your mother’s husband! And your Stepdad! What the fuck was wrong with you? You could only imagine what people’s reactions would be if they knew of the truly sinful thoughts you had about him, and you hated yourself for it.

He was your type, yes. A rich, older man who wasn’t actually an asshole, and they were hard to come by, but that wasn’t relevant. You needed to control yourself. No matter how hard that may be.

“What you have so far is really good. Your argument is strong and as always with your work, it’s written well. You’re smart, Y/N. It’s impressive.” He humoured himself with a scoff, his voice interrupting your lewd thoughts.

You blushed at his compliment, hiding your face behind your knees slightly and looking up at him. “Thanks, Duncan.” You knew he was just trying to be a good dad figure to you, but you couldn’t help being attracted to the way he was so caring for you. Maybe it’s fucked up, but it’s not your fault all you need is an older man’s approval to become turned on.

“I mean it.” He looks so sincere as he talks to you. His face would be intimately close to yours if you hadn’t hidden it from him earlier. You notice his eyes flicker down to your lips for a split second, and then back up to your eyes again. His stare no longer felt friendly, but more.. lustful. Were you crazy or was he really doing this?

Suddenly he looks away from you, moving his eyes back to the laptop’s screen. “Maybe you should just get some sleep. I know you said it’ll stress you out, but if you get some rest you’ll be able to get back into it tomorrow with better concentration.” He does his best to steer the conversation back to where is once was, reminding himself that you’re his fucking step daughter and that he has a beautiful wife sleeping just upstairs.

“I know that, its just..” You sighed, blinking up at him. You brought your legs back down you hang over the edge of the seat, but you couldn’t stop thinking about how close he was to you, wanting to do nothing more than to drape your arms behind his neck an-.

“Nope I won’t listen to it. From what I can see it’s an incredibly strong piece of work already, so just go get some sleep and come back to it in the morning, okay sweetheart?” He laughed a little, looking down at you again.

That nickname. Sweetheart. He called you it all the time and yet it always managed to take your breath away. But the thing is, he usually wasn’t this close to you when he did. So when you squeezed your legs together and bite down on your bottom lip, doing your best to ease the overwhelming desire you felt for him in that moment, there was no way he hadn’t seen it.

You were frozen staring at him, his face static and unreadable. You hoped he didn't choose to shout at you for how repulsive your behaviour was, or maybe he would kick you out? Your mind began spiralling, wrapping itself in intricate knots as you held your breath, awaiting a reply from him.

“Do you like that? When I call you sweetheart.” His voice was deep, sultry and dripping with desire. Shock coursed through you. That was definitely not what you had expected him to say. He seemed even larger now, his confidence making you feel small in comparison as your mind scrabbled to find the words you were supposed to use in your current predicament, but it never found any.

"You like it when daddy gives you nicknames?” He moved his hand up and delicately grasped the skin where your neck met your jaw, his eyes half lidded with lust. Your heart was beating so fast now and your breathing had grown shallow. You were so lost for words, only able to whimper out a weak “yes” before looking down to his boxers, trying to avoid his eyes but still wanting him just as much as he now appeared to want you.

He lifted your chin and kissed you roughly, drinking in your lips as if you were the water he had ventured down stairs for all along; and you began to wonder if you perhaps were. Maybe you were what he had been craving, just as you had been craving him.

He pulled the stool closer to him with his spare hand, leading you to wrap your legs around his torso as you tangled your tiny fingers through his sleep rustled hair. It was passionate. His kiss was sloppy, yet perfectly executed as his tongue slipped past your lips to glide over your own. His greying stubble dug into your skin, burning it with pure contact.

You parted to breath; and for just a moment, though it felt like hours, you stared into each others eyes with a ferociously neither of you could nor wanted to tame.

He tuts. “You really shouldn’t drink so much coffee little one, it’s not good for you. And it’s all I can taste.” He couldn’t help but reprimand you for the little habit, he had just gotten so used to doing it over the past three months, and using it to tease you sounded even more appealing.

You opened your mouth to speak, but were cut off when he lunged at you again, kissing you viciously. He began to move his hands all across your body, his fingertips grazing over every inch of you they possibly could as he started to undress you, pulling your oversized sweater above your head and taking handfuls of your breasts. He was kneading them, leaning down to kiss and suck on them whilst he watched you throw your head back, completely enthralled by him.

You were taken aback by how quick things had escalated, your sense of control had deteriorated far too rapidly and was ebbing away even further with each little kiss he left on your skin.

His large hand slid down to your panties, playing with the lacy bow that was centred on the waist band. He hovered his hand over your heat, cupping it and feeling just how sticky you had become for him. You let out a moan, all sense of wrong and right leaving you completely as you uttered a soft “Daddy” and ground your cunt into the palm of his hand.

“That’s right. So desperate for daddy.” He mused, ripping your thin underwear off and dropping it down onto the floor beneath you. Bringing his face to yours again, your noses bumped and leant on each other for some kind of purchase, the both of you watching his hand as he rubbed his fingers through your folds, gathering a fair amount of slick on them before pressing two inside you.

“Ahh!!” You let out a moan, it was louder than you expected and reminded you of what was really going on here. Having been too caught up in the moment, you hadn’t even thought about how being complete fucking naked with your step father between your legs would look if your mother had decided to come downstairs.

“Ah, ah, shh baby. We don’t wanna get now caught do we?” His breathe was hot on your lips, whispering as to not alert anyone. “So tight.”

You whispered back. “I’m sorry daddy, it was an accident- mmph!” You muffled your moan.

“That’s it. Who’s my good girl?” He lay a gentle peck on you lips, only stopping as to allow you to answer his question.

“I am daddy!! I’m your good girl!” You spoke with urgency, but did your best to keep the volume low, which was quite the struggle in between moans. Duncan could see this, so he pressed your lips together. Kissing you into a muffled silence.

You felt his spare hand on your neck, squeezing it just enough for you to still breathe okay when he pulled away from your mouth, moving his lips to the shell of your ear and biting the lobe. He murmured in your ear. “Do you know how hard it was, this week? Having to sit there next to your mom at the poolside and see you just lying there like that?! That fucking bikini. It took everything in me not to cum right there.”

His fingers were moving slowly, going in deep and curling up against your g spot, making you cry out and lean on his shoulder, biting it to keep yourself quiet. he started to rub your clit in hard circles. He was so experienced. It was mind-blowing.

“Would it have served you more pleasure to know, I only wore it for you?” It was true, you had only worn it for him and it had obviously worked. You certainly had his attention now. He growled at this, pulling his fingers out and slapping your cunt.

He yanked your neck closer to him, speaking down to you. “Just for that? Get on your fucking knees.” As soon as he let go of your throat you were climbing off the stool and onto the floor. The heat of the room, and of your acts too, made the marble tiling feel like ice pressed onto your flushed skin. But you didn't care.

You watched him pull his boxers down, cock springing free, adjacent to his stomach. Never having been with anyone of this size before, you had never seen a cock this big. You reached out and touched it, feeling just how hard he was. He hissed at the contact, looking down at you as you watched his facial expressions with wide eyes.

You played with it in your hand, stroking it with one and palming his balls with the other. He stroked his fingers through your hair, giving you a reassuring look as you licked the tip. The salty taste hit your tongue, making you crave his cock even more. So without another second going to waste, you took him into your mouth as far as you could.

“Ahh fuck!” You began bobbing your head, your eyes fixed on him as a groan left his lips. He was watching you intently, threading his fingers through your hair and onto your scalp to get a good grip on your head. You let your jaw go loose, knowing what he was about to do and preparing yourself for it.

He started thrusting his hips into your face, his cock hitting the back of your throat with almost every shove. You had honestly impressed yourself, I mean you knew you gave good head, but taking a cock this big as it fucked into your throat was something to be proud of.

“Mmm that’s it sweetheart.” Your stomach fluttered at his approval. The gagging noises you were making giving him even more pleasure. “You just wanna make daddy proud, don’t you princess?” You mumbled a wet “yes daddy” around his cock, sending sweet vibrations through it as he pushed himself as far as he could into your throat.

You couldn't even fathom how this was happening. You had pictured this moment late at night with a vibe pressed to your clit far too many times to count, so it finally happening was something hard to comprehend. Somehow he looked even more handsome from down on your knees than you had ever imagined he would. His stubble contouring his face perfectly with the ‘o’ his lips were forming.

Suddenly pulling you off of him, you gasped out for oxygen and tried to wipe away some of the saliva dribbling down your chin. It was like a snapshot from one of Duncan’s wet dreams. You looked so incredibly fucked out. He thought it was beautiful.

“Come on little one, stand up. Daddy wants to fuck that tight little pussy of yours.” You moaned as he talked down to you, stroking his calloused thumb over your bottom lip and pulling it down just to watch it bounce back up again.

You stood up, finally wrapping your arms around his shoulders like you had wanted to all this time. He pulled you in for a kiss, one much slower than the rest, communicating something more to you than just pure sexual carnality. His embrace was comforting, making you feel protected and small in his arms.

His hands grabbed at your ass as he picked you up, sitting you back down onto the bar stool and adjusting the hight while his lips stayed connected to yours. Once the seat was low enough for his liking, he picked up your thighs, shelving them onto his hips and laying you back just enough so that you could lean on the backrest.

The room was sweltering, your body hot against his and anticipating having him buried inside you was getting too much to handle. He dragged his cock through your lips, teasing your clit and moving back down to almost enter you, but he never would. Just wanting to get you all worked up and loving the way you would squirm when he did.

“Daddy.. please.” You steadied yourself by holding on to the sides of the seat, hoping he would end his tournament and fuck you already.

He slid the head barely into you. “Hmm… Since you were so polite, suppose daddy should reward you.” He spoke calmly before snarling and stuffing himself into you, pushing as deeply as he physically could. He felt your walls clamp around him as he set his pace. It was a lot. Having never taken a cock this big and the fact he didn’t even let you adjust, you couldn’t help but wail out.

He shot his hand up to cover your mouth, needing to keep you quiet and seeing you clearly couldn’t do it yourself. “Wouldn’t want to wake up mommy now, would you baby?” you attempted to utter a “No daddy”, but his hand kept your lips glued shut.

He fucked you. Like really really fucked you. He was making the stool shuffle underneath you, the powerfulness of his thrusts causing you to slide down in the seat. The only reason you didn’t slip off completely being the barbarian hold he had on your hips.

It actually surprised you how rough he was. A pleasant surprise, of course, but he had been so delicately caring towards you since becoming your step father and now here you were, receiving the best of both worlds.

The closer you grew to your high, the more incoherent your thoughts became. His eyebrows were scrunched together, lips trembling as he picked you up off the seat and held you closer to him. Supporting your ass, his hips ricocheted up and off yours as he tried desperately not to yell out.

His thumb was brought back down to your clit as he pressed you up against him, swiping at it hellishly, trying to hurry up your release upon feeling your legs begin to quiver; and knowing his own was approaching rapidly.

“That’s it sweetheart, come around daddy’s cock… Gonna cum so fucking deep inside your cunt. Would you like that?” You could see a thin line of perspiration cascading down his cheekbone, he was almost breathless and his thrusts were messier now.

“Yes da-AHH!“ you whipped a hand up to your face, holding your mouth shut as you came. You dug the hand you had placed on his shoulder deep into his skin and was quickly reminded of his marriage to your mother. You hoped you hadn't left any nail indents she might see.

You felt his hot seed spurt onto your walls as he rested his head on yours, mouth open wide and letting out a silent groan. His release was long and powerful. The both of you were left panting, the only noise in the room being your own breaths and a small creak from the stool when he softly set you down onto it.

He pulled out, your mixed juices gushing out of you along with the sexual haze you had been overcome with. The severity of what you had just done began to settle in. His head still resting on yours as you started freaking out, contemplating what would happen if your mother was to ever find out what had just occurred.

You wrapped your arms around his back, needing his comfort and squeezing him in an urgent hug, which he returned. his fingers stroked the sweaty skin of your back, trying to ease the thoughts he too had running through his mind. He lifted your chin up, the look he had in his eyes telling you everything would be okay.

Kissing you cautiously, he savoured the feeling of your lips on his and prayed he would get a chance to feel them again. “Are you okay?” He whispered

You didn’t really know if you were. On one hand, that was something you had wanted for a long time and it had been far better than you ever imagined, but on the other you had just helped your stepfather cheat on your mother. “I don’t know. I think so.”

He stood up, grabbing your sweater and panties, handing them to you before putting his boxers back on. “Well, at least that paper won’t seem like such big problem now.” He chuckled, doing his best to find humour in a humourless situation.

You giggled a little, hurrying to throw on your sweater and being reminded of how he had ruined your panties. “True. Now this can hang over my head instead.” You wiped any left over salvia you had on your face onto your sleeve and thought about how you would probably need to shower after this. “At least the sex was worth it, right?”

He sent you a dark smirk, picking up his bottle of water and walking towards the kitchen door. “It was. hopefully it'll be just as good next time too.” You opened your mouth, faking shock at his confidence as you watched him open the door.

“Goodnight Y/N” He gave you one last look as he sauntered through the door, getting ready to close it behind him and leave you alone in the kitchen with no one but your thoughts. The thoughts of your acts. Remembering all the little moments you had just shared together.

In that last moment before he left, you struck eye contact with him, chewing your inner lip and speaking.

“Goodnight, daddy.”

●●●●●●●●

Thank you sm for reading!🥺🖤

Tags: @dark-mei-rose @sojournmichael @ntxoza @blakescoven @ghostangels @jimmason @fernfiction @brattylovee @7-wonders @angelicmichael @melodylangdon @instincts-baby i'm so so sorry if you don't like this kinda fic or it has triggered you in anyway, but just let me know if it has and I won't tag you in this kind of thing ever again! You can also let me know if you wanna be added to the tag list too:)

#Duncan Shepherd #Duncan Shepherd x reader #Duncan Shepherd fic #Duncan Shepherd smut #Stepdad!Duncan #Stepdad!Duncan Shepherd #Stepdad!Duncan Shepherd x reader #Cody fern #Cody fern fic #Daddy Duncan #my writing

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imagine-otome-games · 3 years

Text

Survivors Guilt [GI Childe]

Pairing: Childe x Fem!Reader [[3RD POV]] [[Heavy use of she/her]]

Warnings: Angst, dark-ish imagery, dark thoughts etc also kinda long since theres barely any dialouge.

!!SPOILERS FOR LIYUE ARCHON QUEST!! [[Vague but if you know you know]]

A/N: working on that diluc but uh this hit me sooo.. I wondered what would have happened if that fight didn’t go so smoothly..

;; a day in which all his debts were paid off with interest;;

“ Pᴀɪɴᴛ ʙʟᴇᴇᴅs, ɪɴᴋ ʀᴜɴs, ɪᴍᴀɢᴇ ᴏғ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʟᴏᴠᴇ..”

It was truly a sight to behold- something like a breathtaking scene in a famous novel. Poets and authors alike would try to replicate it, but it would never be quite the same- not as impactful.

No words could ever truly replicate the way he had screamed upon hearing the news. No painter could even come close to recreating the look in his anguished eyes- the rigid state of his entire body- the immediate stream of tears. However, who would truly want to? Words hit hard enough so an actual image would be pure torture and yet.. some found inspiration at the way this hardened Harbinger absolutely broke down for his love..

Even the strongest of people have their weaknesses and his lied with her..

“I promise I’ll be back soon.”, he had said, with pure confidence too despite it all.

She had been so far from the harbor- she didn’t give him any hint that she would be on the waters that day. Even she had, what had ultimately happened was a last resort. He never intended to do it but.. perhaps if she had mentioned something that day.. he would have stopped himself.

If he was stronger- if he hadn’t allowed himself to be used..

The rage mixed in all that anguish was suffocating- each and every breath he took as he moved forward felt like it was searing his lungs. His legs felt like the bones within were made of lead, threatening to cave in on themselves. He almost wished they would- he wished they’d shatter- he begged to his current wounds to just end what was only the beginnings of his endless suffering.

Instead of hoping his death would happen in glorious battle he wished for it to be swift- for it to carry him home immediately, no matter how selfish it seemed.

He had a family, he had to think of how they would feel but now... now the blood on his hands was blood he was never meant to spill..

He always knew the true costs of his line of work would catch up to him.. Childe simply thought that cost wouldn’t be so high- so immediate. Or.. something of his own doing-

Once he made it to where the crowds had gathered- to the aftermath seen by all, he was gifted with burning daggers in his back by their eyes- a hint of pity accented within the obvious poison. They would forever be embedded in his flesh. None would be unaware of his horrific deed in Liyue harbor- the absolute disregard for innocents and his own dearest heart.

He wished the people would be more violent, but he knew they wouldn’t be. That was too easy- too merciful.

Within that crowd he found what he had destroyed. There, in the calm waters, surrounded by mourning citizens that knew her well... she floated calmly. Her calm face struck him hard- it was now dull, there was no life within her features- this was not like when she slept or when she turned her face to soak in the beautiful sun.

The reality of everything hit him so hard it knocked the breath and rationality out of him.

He had begged and pleaded and sobbed in vain- she had been gone all along. When he was told you were missing- lost at sea, deep in his very core he knew the waves had stolen her. Osial must have stolen her was what he allowed himself to believe for a time, but Childe was not that much of a fool. His own idiocy and failure to think rationally stole her from him. He did this to himself and now, in front of all of those which he wronged, he breaks.

He will never be able to see her smile- how is it that one person can have so many different smiles? So many expressions to miss and touches to crave and be robbed of. Childe would never hold her in his arms. He could no longer relish in the taste of her lips or her warm embrace on late nights.

Her voice would no longer bring him back to life on the days he lost himself- he would be left to drown out at sea, just as he deserved. There was no future to look forward to- a time when he would get to call you his wife or perhaps the mother of his children- not even a time in which he got to live freely. To be just Ajax and not Childe, the Eleventh Harbinger of the Fatui. Nothing. There was nothing and perhaps it is selfish thinking- his family still lives but will they still adore him when they learn of his horrific deed- of what his job genuinely costs.

“ I ᴄᴀɴ’ᴛ ʙʀᴇᴀᴛʜᴇ, ɴᴇᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍᴇ..”

The screams were so painful that no one could bare to look for long, the cries so devastating others felt its harsh pangs in their chests. He cried like he was being tortured- cradled her head and damned the very skies for taking something so precious- something that was not for it to take- someone that deserved better.

The people of Liyue granted him the mercy of time with her. His only true gift from those he hurt. They felt the sincerity in his regret and pain.

Hours felt like mere seconds to him and in the setting sun the cold finally dug its claws into him. He could feel the blood in his throat and the raw sting in his eyes. His freezing fingers had to be pried from her lifeless body and still he begged. He pleaded for everything to be a lie- a cruel prank to get him to see how horrible that was of him.

How could she be the only fatality in all this- surely there were others on the water? Her little boat was not the only one out there. Not to say he wished the same fate of other innocents but... did it have to be only her? In the very boat he gifted her when he learned how she adored to just... exist in the middle of the ocean for a short time. To take in the salty air from its source and take in the scenery the archons gifted its people to see.

In the same boat that was now in pieces along various shores and in the unrelenting depths of the ocean. Lost to him forever, just like her.

Her sweet laughter from that day still haunts him, “I’ll believe you if you promise to go out to sea with me when you get back.”, she had said, bargaining with him as if she actually ever needed to. She could tell him to jump and he would have asked her how high.

‘I love you, Ajax. Be safe.’

So, he promised- crossed his heart and hoped to die. Then when would that debt be paid? How long must he wait to be in her presence again?

“ Aɴɢᴇʟs ғᴀʟʟ, ɪᴛ’s ɴᴏᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ғᴀᴜʟᴛ..”

The picture painted of her for that day pierced through what was left of his now dead heart. He meant no offense to the artist, but it did no true justice for her. It did not encapsulate her like his cruel mind did. Her eyes felt lacking- the expression was so.. unreal. Yet, silent tears felt all the same.

This was it. He must let her go for good. This is all real- too real. His breathing becomes labored and soon he is doing his best to silently sob. Her painting becomes blurred and, in the midst,... it looks as though she is crying with him. Somehow.

‘You know I’ll always love you, right?’

“ Gᴏᴏᴅʙʏᴇ ᴏʟᴅ ғʀɪᴇɴᴅ. ᴡᴇ’ʟʟ ᴍᴇᴇᴛ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ...”

“Traveler...”, he begins, “Do we have to do this every time? You know what I want... stop denying me for the sake of your own morals... please..”

The outlander looks at him, pity in the swirls of gold staring into his dull blue hues, “You know I can’t, Childe..”

He laughs bitterly, ignoring the way it hurts to do so, “You can- c’mon, it’s not that hard. Your sword is sharp enough. One good blow-”

“You need to move on somehow- take a break and grieve properly stop asking me-”

“Move on? Move on? I am a murderer- I killed her- I deserve to-”, he starts, voice growing angry and so very sad.

“You didn’t do it on purpose. You didn’t want her to...go.”, the outlander says, pools of gold growing brighter in concern, staring upon his form in the ground.

Childe was a mess of sweat and blood, on his back staring up at another whom he deceived, begging to be put out of his misery. Shamelessly so.

He laughs again, this time with a ragged breath, “It should never have been her- it should have been me. It was always supposed to be me first.”, he’s crying now, he’s sure of it. It always turned out this way, usually the tears are left out, “I was never- I never... she was never supposed to even be hurt because of me. Traveler I... I loved her so much- I still love her. I can’t let go- please. I’m begging you- please. End it- end me..”

There was no answer, just silence. There was no saving him and as painful as it was, the wandering traveler left him there on the ground. He never saw this traveler again. In the back of his mind he always wonders if the sibling was found. Was the journey fulfilled- was there a happy ending?

He hopes so. No one deserves to suffer loss in any way.

“I miss you..”, he whispers into the sky, knowing she resides somewhere far past the clouds.

The calm waves of the sea gently rock him in this small boat. There is only one destination for him. He is no longer welcome anywhere else. No one has said so, but he feels it within his soul. A piece is missing, and he will find it once more, one way or another.

“I’m coming home.. I hope you didn’t wait long..”, he says as the blackened clouds start to surround him. The sea below him darkens and he can feel the static of danger in the tense air. The waves start to come alive and he hopes they finally swallow him entirely.

This time, he hopes he will not be found by a pitying soul.

“ Tɪᴍᴇ ɢᴏᴇs ᴏɴ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ..”

#genshin impact x reader #childe x reader #genshin Impact childe #genshin impact tartaglia #genshin impact #genshin impact fic #genshin x reader #childe #fatui #ari writes #hi hello #its meee #im sorryyy in advance...

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cacoetheswriting · 3 years

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champagne problems, ch.13

Chapter Thirteen: Happiness is a butterfly: An impromptu “bachelorette” leads to more than you expected. A/N: chapter is titled after this song if you want to listen while reading. Word Count: 1.7k Warnings: swearing, brief talk of heartbreak & breakup/s, alcohol consumption, intoxication, angst, and finally a bit of fluff !!

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A/N: i can’t believe after this chapter, there is only two left!! from the bottom of my heart, thank you to everyone that’s been reading / liking / commenting / reblogging - it genuinely means the world to me!

Loud chatter mixed with drunken laughter carried through the bar, creating the perfect Saturday night atmosphere. The various raucous discussions were accompanied by old jukebox melodies, fighting a battle of who can make more noise - man or machine.

The space carried a stench of sweat, cigarette smoke and spilled drink. While listening to Penelope’s incoherent ramblings, you took a mental note of needing to throw the clothes you were currently wearing into the wash the second you got home. If you were sober enough to do so, that is.

“Okay, okay-” Emily began, still laughing at whatever it was Penelope had just said. “Personally, I think a more important question is who wants another drink?” She glanced between the group of girls who all lifted their empty glasses into the air, cheering loudly.

It was a pretty unanimous decision to still throw you a bachelorette party. The BAU ladies wanted a night out and you were happy to provide them with an excuse - primarily because the months have quickly passed into May and you figured it was finally time to stop wallowing in self-pity.

Penelope invested in a fake engagement ring; “No-one will know the difference and this way we can get free drinks.”. She also arrived with a bag of typical bachelorette knickknacks from the dollar store, plastic tiaras, and bright pink sashays - a ‘BRIDE’ one for you, ‘MAID OF HONOUR’ for herself, and ‘BRIDESMAID’ for the remaining ladies.

When the night started you honestly felt quite silly celebrating something that was no longer happening. You felt like a fraud. Fooling all of these people into thinking you were happy and about to embark on the best journey of your life, when the reality couldn't have been more different.

You were utterly alone and pathetically in love with someone who, you were convinced, didn't love you back.

Penelope volunteered to help Emily with getting the drinks while Tara took the time to go and freshen up in the bathroom.

“Sooo... are you still thinking about leaving the bureau?” JJ asked, sliding into the now empty spot beside you. She placed an elbow on the table to prop her head up as she waited for you to answer.

Her question caught you off guard. Taking the last sip of your current margarita, you furrowed your brows together. “What? I don’t even... what?”

JJ didn't answer. Instead, she let out a relieved laugh. “I knew Spence was playing with me. And I told him, I told him there was no way, absolutely no wayyy you would ever leave, or even consider leaving.”

“Spencer?” You probed, hopping to make some sense of what she ways saying.

JJ nodded her head, her hand clearly struggling to hold it up. “He came by, gosh... this was shortly after your breakup with Ethan? And he let lit slip that the surgeon had come by his place and told him you were leaving the BAU...” Her voice faded out when she noticed the perplexed look on your face. Even in her inebriated state she could tell you had no idea Ethan and Spencer ever spoke alone.

“Shit, did I say something wrong?”

“No, I-I... I don't think so? I’m just... confused.” And as the words escaped your lips, a sudden urge overcame you. If it wasn't for the alcohol cursing through your veins right now, perhaps you would have left it alone. Perhaps the feeling would have passed. Instead, however, you sprung up on your feet and hastily grabbed your handbag.

“I have to go.”

JJ immediately sat up. “Go? Go where?”

But you didn’t want to get into it now. No, you had much more pressing matters at hand - at least your drunken mind thought so. You decided to leave the explaining to Penelope and Tara, who reappeared at the table with Emily and a new set of cocktails. You shot them both a knowing look, and before either of them got a chance to protest, you hurried in the direction of the exit.

The ride to your destination was a blur - partially due to your heavy intoxication, and partially due to the adrenaline you were now experiencing. You weren't even sure how you managed to hail a taxi or how the driver understood the address through your muddled breaths. You were simply glad they did.

Your whole body was shaking. You still weren't entirely sure whether what you were doing was a good idea, but it seemed like there was no other option as JJ’s words rang in your ears - “... the surgeon had come by his place and told him you were leaving the BAU...”. What did she mean by that? When did this conversation even happen? You had so many questions circling your brain, you could only hope they'd get answered once you arrived where you were heading.

Once the car stopped and you paid your fair, you managed to exit the vehicle in one piece and stumble, fairly elegantly, to the front door of the apartment block. The stairs proved to be the real enemy of the night as your legs failed to coordinate with the wooden steps. But once you reached your goal, the struggle of getting here didn't seem as important anymore.

With your hand formed into a lousy fist, you knocked and knocked and knocked until the door swung open.

“When was Ethan here?” You asked, not willing to waste any more time.

Spencer stared at you completely dumbfounded. He blinked, unsure at first whether you were really here or if his mind was playing tricks. Truthfully, he’s imagined this happening many times in the last few months - you finding out the truth behind that night. Especially with the context of your voicemail still lingering in the air every time he saw you.

“Fuck.” You breathed, one hand rockily landing on Spencer’s chest. He instantly reached to grab you and hold safely you up in position. Completely unfazed by your sudden closeness, with your free hand, you brought your knee to your back and you loosened the strap of your heel.

Spencer watched you silently, the overpowering whiff of your perfume mixed with alcohol hitting him like a brick. He quickly took note of the plastic tiara in your hair and the sash wrapped around your rather loose outfit. All that went through his head in that moment was how happy he was you got here safe and sound.

“Do you need me to drive you home? Or, ehm, or call you a cab?” Spencer raised a brow as you regained your wobbly stance, your hand still clinging to his sweatshirt as if it was your only lifeline. Which judging by your... condition, it surely was.

You scoffed, unintentionally blowing your loose strands of your hair away from your face. “Don’t be a jerk, don’t call me a taxi.”

The handsome doctor smirked. “A jerk?”

You nodded. “And do not think for a ss-second, you’re getting away with answering my question.”

“I had a feeling you would say that.”

Spencer carefully led you inside the confide of his apartment. With one arm wrapped tightly around your waist, he closed the door behind and guided you toward the couch. You plopped down with a gentle bounce and he couldn't help but chuckle.

“Let me get you some water.” He offered, but you grabbed his arm and using all of the strength you could muster, you pulled him down next to you.

“Answer my question first.” You mumbled while placing your hands on his cheeks and gaping into his hazel eyes. Gosh, he had such pretty eyes.

Spencer swallowed before licking his lips. Your proximity should be making him nervous, but he felt nothing of the sort. Instead, he found himself shuffling in closer.

“Please, Spencer... I need to know.” The plea was gratuitous because deep down you already knew the answer. You just needed him to confirm your suspicions.

As the tears started to form in your eyes, the brunette doctor sighed deeply. Now was his only chance to set the record straight. He might not get another one, in fact he knew if he let you leave tonight without telling you what really happened he'd lose you permanently. Even as a friend.

Now or never, he thought, then proceed to explain.

And you listened. You listened patiently and attentively, letting the waterfall of tears escape and trail mascara down your face. His words were slowly sobering you up. Everything was starting to become clear once again.

Spencer always loved you. He never stopped loving you. He never wanted to end things, he simply did what he thought was the right thing to do. The right thing for you because your happiness was more important to him than his own. He still loved you. He loved you.

By the time Spencer was finished, the alcohol had completely faded from your system. Your arms instantly draped around his neck, and you fell into his comforting embrace. Attaching yourself like a magnet. His hand landed at the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair. Basking in your warmth. He whispered apologies into your ear, repeating over and over again that he will never let you go again.

You believed him.

When you finally pulled away, the tears had stopped falling. Using his thumb, Spencer gently wiped the lone droplets that remained on your face. There were so many things he wanted to tell you, so many things he wanted to do with you, but at least now he knew he didn't have to rush. The chase was over.

His fingertips traced along your jawline before settling on your chin. The two of you gazed into each other’s eyes, because in this moment you were the only people to exist. The only people to matter.

“Can I kiss you?”

A smile circled your features. “As if you have to ask.”

His mouth brushed against yours with tenderness and care. You melted into him completely, glad he was taking his time because the first touch of his lips on your sent a jolt down your spine. One hand slid from your chin up your cheek, cupping your face, while his other hand graciously moved up and down your arm.

Your lips parted from shocking overwhelming sensation in your body. You hadn't realised just how much you missed his touch, not until his hand traveled from your arm to your neck. His fingertips brushing across, not quite landing in any particular place, as his tongue eagerly slid into your mouth.

Conveyed in his kiss were over a million loving thoughts and conversations previously left unspoken. The pent up tension, built up over the occurrences of these last few months, suddenly exploded. In the moment, in this kiss, you were both your pure selves.

He was yours, and you were his.

Forever.

Do you want me or do you not? I heard one thing, now I'm hearing another

A/N: as always i’d love to hear your feedback! if you would like to be added to a taglist, please let me know. thank you for your continuous support. with love, mal. x

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story taglist: @girloncorneliastreet, @haylaansmi, @rexorangecouny, @l0ve-0f-my-life, @obsssedwithjustaboutanything, @aperrywilliams, @sassy-hades, @rainsong01, @reverdevivre, @dracomikaelson, @softieekayy, @lunaofcrows, @andrewhoezierbyrne, @blameitonthenight21, @lyl-26, @do-yr-research, @nazifa94, @stepsofthefbi, @chatterbug2-0, @calm-and-doctor, @halseysunset, @ellesgreenaway, @chipot-lol

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#champagne problems series #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid story #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction

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chaoticevilbean · 3 years

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Voltron Humans are Weird 2/?

Lance tapped his fingers against the ground again and again, eyes boring into the laser wall that kept them trapped in the cell. Two sentries stood outside, stiff and cold. He had been silent from the moment the Galra had captured him and Pidge on their intelligence-gathering mission. The others were sure to come for them, but the Cuban worried about what might happen before then. Pidge was his little sister in all but blood. He didn't know how he'd survive anything happening to her.

Loud, heavy footsteps pounded their way towards the cell, causing Pidge to scoot closer to Lance, her hands clenched and shoulders tight. The older Paladin moved a bit in front of his comrade, just as tense but ready to fight anyone who tried to hurt the younger. A large Galran commander, broad and furred, stopped at their cell, motioning at the sentries to lower the laser wall. They obeyed, and the commander walked towards his prisoners, teeth bared in what was either a smile or a snarl.

"So we've finally caught some of the famous Voltron Paladins," he growled out. "And you were foolish enough to bring the Green Lion along. Three little presents for the Emperor. Only," the Galra paused, and his mouth closed as he smirked, "he doesn't care about the condition the Paladins of Voltron are in. Which means I can do whatever is necessary to obtain the possible information you have."

"I knew the Galra were stupid, but I didn't know you were dumb enough to think that we'd give you intel."

"Silence, Voltron scum. With the right methods, you'll give me anything I want." Lance grimaced, but quickly turned it into a smirk. The Paladins had learned rather quickly that it is much harder for aliens to lie or hide their emotions, so even amateur acting among humans would be considered highly skilled for other races. It worked to Voltron's advantage that Terrans were underestimated by aliens, leaving them to believe that such skills like lying were beyond the humans' level. Even the Alteans had yet to figure out that the Paladins could lie with ease.

"We're trained in the art of torture, both in inflicting pain upon our enemies in ways that leave them begging for mercy, and in withstanding that which is inflicted upon us. We have watched each other suffer and learned to defy our natural protective instincts. Unless you have something new to give us, which I highly doubt, there is no way you will succeed in getting information." Pidge side-eyed her companion, but was quick to catch on and smirk as well, as though completely confident in her abilities to resist torture.

"Then I guess we'll give you something new, Blue Paladin," the commander sneered, signaling the sentries to grab Lance. As he was dragged out, the Cuban's only thoughts were of how it was him and not his little sister. The Green Paladin looked on with a stoic face, set in the act that had only just begun, but horror was in her eyes.

Lance was taken to a new room and stuck in a chair. He was flanked by two sentries and four Galran soldiers lined the walls. The door closed with a slam, and the Blue Paladin knew he had no chance of fighting his way out. Though he followed Pidge's lead in retaining an expression of indifference, his heart clenched at the thought that whatever torture they had in mind didn't require restraints. It was a scarier notion than if he had been completely subdued.

The commander moved into Lance's view, his sneer still present. He beckoned a soldier forward, a large box in their hands. It was placed on the table, a dull thunk echoing in the room. The soldier scurried backwards as the contents of the container were unloaded. Several beakers, a few sealed cartons, and a plate of what seemed to be mint leaves. Lance attempted to maintain his straight face, keeping himself as still as possible as he studied the probable poisons. It made sense now. He had no chance of fighting his way out, and poison didn't require restraints. All it required was getting it into the desired person's system.

"Well, Paladin, I do hope that you've prepared for your inevitable demise. Maybe you'll manage to squeeze out a surrender as you burn from the inside." As he spoke, the hulking Galra opened one of the cartons, carefully using a scoop to measure out some bright red powder. He seemed extremely cautious of the substance, and Lance tensed in anticipation. The scoop was brought towards his face, and the sentries on either side of him held their guns aimed at his head. His only chance of living was ingesting whatever was given to him.

The commander grasped Lance's jaw, forcing the human's mouth open and dumping the powder in. The boy's eyes widened as he tasted the poison. It... was... spicy. All of the Galra in the room were staring at their prisoner, the underlings peering nervously at him as though he were about to collapse.

But Lance's mind was elsewhere. The poison was spicy, not a whole lot, but maybe like a jalepeno, and only for a moment before it started to fade. He had swallowed immediately, and the burn felt no worse than his mother's mild chili, made for the young ones and their low tolerances. Many of the foods in space were bland, practically tasteless. Even if this poison was deadly, Lance wanted more. He missed spicy foods, missed the burn and the numbness that came with them. He was the kind of person that had tried ghost peppers and Carolina Reapers for fun.

"Is the pain so much that you can't speak, oh great Paladin," his captor asked with venom and victory in his voice. "Do you think you were prepared enough for this?"

"What is this," Lance suddenly questioned, turning to face the Galra head-on with curiosity dominating his expression. The being was surprised, but nonetheless answered.

"A deadly poison that burns through all it touches, C18H27NO3. We learned the human word from the Champion when he was given a small portion of it, to test his strength. Your species calls it capsaicin."

"Capsaicin?" The commander nodded, his smirk back in place, though it disappeared with the next words. "I love this stuff! When my team comes to save us, can we have your supply?"

"For what?" one of the soldiers spoke up fearfully, their eyes trained on the Terran.

"For food! We use capsaicin to season our food! It's delicious!"

"It burns!"

"I know! It's sooo good!" The commander slammed his fist onto the table, growling. He closed the carton and moved it aside, pulling one of the beakers over instead.

"Perhaps this will be better suited for our motives!" His voice raised as he shoved the glass container over to Lance. The boy was less nervous about this, instead grasping the beaker and promptly downing the entire dark liquid. If the powder was capsaicin, then chances are the other 'poisons' were actually not toxic to him. Hunk had once mentioned that many foods humans consumed were considered highly poisonous. The liquid was black tea, served cold.

"So why is black tea considered poisonous? Lemme guess, the caffeine?" The Paladin leaned back in his chair, arms rising to go behind his head. He was greatly amused by the faces of the Galra in the room, and decided that he would take this to the next level. Their own plan reversed and used against them.

The Cuban leaned back forward, bent over the table as he grabbed another beaker. It was fizzing, so he assumed carbonated soda. It was indeed Diet Coke, or something similar.

"Man, these poisons are failing at their jobs. The first is in many dishes back home, the second is used to keep people awake, and this one is soda. We drink it as a common beverage or a treat." He snatched a carton next, pulling out a piece of pineapple. "Mmm, bromelain. The snack that eats you back." He popped the fruit into his mouth, then a few more, chewing with vigor at the delicious taste. Oh how he had missed Earth foods.

He proceeded to wash down the snack with some of the next beaker, though he stopped halfway through chugging it when he realized what it was.

"Shiro will kill me if I get drunk, and I'm not risking it to prove a point. Ethanol may be a fun recreational drink, but not for kids." The Galra seemed more alarmed at that (though Lance would only later learn it was a combination of him referring to himself as a kid and calling ethanol a fun recreational drink), but Lance was already grabbing the container of clear liquid.

"Seriously? You guys think water is poisonous?"

"THAT IS DIHYDROGEN MONOXIDE AND YOU SHOULD BE DEAD TEN TIMES OVER!" the commander screamed in the Terran's face. Said Terran sighed.

"Bud, humans need dihydrogen monoxide, or water as we call it, in order to survive. Our planet is literally 70% of this stuff. It rains this stuff. We sweat this stuff. I told you that there weren't any methods that could get me to talk. Now pass over those mint leaves and whatever else you think should kill me. I want to save it for Hunk so we can have some food that actually has flavor for once."

The alarms blared before any of the soldiers or higher-up could respond. All personnel rushed from the room, desperate to leave the human behind. Lance was perfectly happy to wait. Chances are they would forget about Pidge due to his terror tactics, and that meant that the sentries would-

Yep, there they were, powering down. The others must've been spotted on the cameras while getting the female Paladin out. Lance got to his feet, whistling a merry tune. He put all the containers and the plate back into the box, closing the lid. With a small heave, he began his way out, carrying his cargo towards where the Lions were most likely to be held.

About five minutes into his rather casual escape, Keith and Pidge came barreling around a corner. The smaller one let out a sigh of relief, pleased to see her brother-in-arms unharmed. Both showed confusion at the box, but neither questioned it, reserving that for later when they weren't on an enemy ship. Instead, they each grabbed a side of the Blue Paladin and his cargo, and took off once more for the exit route.

It took them an hour to get back to the Castle, between lugging the box back to the Green Lion, taking care of any soldiers between them and their escape, and getting rid of the cruisers. Lance immediately disembarked the robotic feline and headed for the kitchen, box in his arms. The other Paladins followed after, curious as to what was so important their comrade risked his freedom to obtain it. Pidge and Keith also wanted to get the story of how Lance wasn't locked up or injured in any way when they found him.

In the kitchen, the Blue Paladin of Voltron began unloading the contents of his prize, and Pidge immediately whipped out a scanner. Her face lit up at the sight of her screen, recognizing what the information was saying about the 'poisons'.

"No. Way," she whispered, looking up at Lance with the biggest smile ever. "No. Quiznacking. WAY! OH MY GLOB, YOU FOUND EARTH FOOD!"

"That's Earth food?" Hunk picked up.

"Quiznack yeah! No more tasteless goop!"

"You risked not escaping to get food?"

"Shiro," Lance called, silencing the chaos that was rising. "I told them that we Paladins are trained in the art of torture and can withstand both our own pain and watching each other in pain. Told them that there wasn't anything they had that could hurt us enough to break our wills." Shiro blanched for a moment before he realized what that meant. The Galra would always take whatever the Paladins said as truth. "That commander that tried to torture me thought he had some great way to break me... Poison."

"They thought these were poisons?" Keith asked incredulously. Lance nodded.

"Not only did it let me know that they don't know anything about humans who train against torture, but also nothing about human biology. I mean, even if all of this was actually toxic to us, a lot of people that learn to resist torture build up immunities to poison as well. They know nothing about us. And guess what, Hunk?"

"Hmm?" Hunk's eyes caught the mischievous glint in his bro's eyes. This was gonna be good.

"The first thing they gave me... a scoop of capsaicin."

"No way." Matching grins spread on the duo's faces. At the Garrison, in their first three months there, Lance would eat jalepenos with every meal thanks to the large variety of food the cafeteria provided. A benefit of going to a prestigious school that felt a little bad about how hard it pushed its students. He kept eating the peppers at every meal and as snacks for his entire school experience, but in those first three months, the other students couldn't seem to believe it. Some thought he was exaggerating his tolerance of spiciness, and some wanted to see how much he could handle. Soon enough, there were kids buying the spiciest foods and peppers they could, then going up to Lance at meals or between classes to bet against him eating it. Every single time, Lance would accept the bet, devour the food, and pull the money from his stunned peers' fingers. Several occasions, he was late to Iverson's class and was seen towing whatever frozen kid had bet that time behind him. Iverson hated it when that happened, mostly because every other student vouched that it wasn't Lance's fault and that he was probably suffering an awful burning sensation at that very moment. He wasn't.

By the end of those three months, he had gained over $3,000 from the bets, and the faculty couldn't do anything. He split the money with Hunk, especially when his roommate used that money to buy spices for food he would always share with the Cuban. Throughout the rest of the school year, whenever someone new transferred in, the other students convinced them to do a bet as well, if only so they could watch someone else suffer as they had suffered. It continued the next year as a tradition, with former peers tricking both younger and older kids to bet, and some bringing in items they had saved just for that occasion. Pidge was never tricked into betting, due to her insistence on being alone, and neither was Keith, because he was an extreme loner that no one could seem to befriend.

Hunk and Lance therefore both knew that there was no way aliens, who couldn't handle capsaicin, who had practically tasteless food because of their intolerances, could somehow give Lance something spicy enough to hurt him in any way.

"Someone want to clue us in?" Pidge asked, eyeing the rest of the Garrison Trio.

"Did you ever hear about the Spice King?" Hunk shot back, as way of a response.

"I did," Keith interjected. "I never met them, but I heard that it was someone who could eat anything from bell peppers to Carolina Reapers and still make it to class on time."

"Oh, I think I did, too," Pidge exclaimed. "I heard in passing, but I was so obsessed back then that I never found out anything more than they existed."

"Well, the Spice King was a kid in our year," Hunk started. "He was this dude who could indeed eat anything spicy. The only reason he was ever late to class was because he made sure that whoever gave him the food got there as well. They almost always froze up because he would just accept what they gave and eat it on the spot. Kids in our year bet against him every day, multiple times on some. The dude earned a few thousand because they wouldn't stop. Usually, students would convince others to bet against him just because they wanted it to be done by everyone. Happened every year as well."

"Adam told me about that kid. Apparently, the teachers couldn't do anything to stop the betting. It wasn't gambling because the outcome was always the same and it wasn't like anything was being sold. Do you know who he is?" Shiro had his arms crossed as he stared curiously at the Yellow Paladin, who was now beaming in excitement.

"It was Lance."

Silence.

"The Galra tried to feed me, the Spice King, a spoonful of spice to make me give them information. Apparently, it was supposed to burn really badly. It wasn't even that bad. Barely jalepeno level. And then the commander went for some really dark liquid, and at that point, I was like 'if they think capsaicin is poison, what else do they got that is poison to them, but not to me' and so I just took the beaker from them and downed it. It turned out to be black tea, and I just gave up on the whole pretending to be a prisoner because they thought I was gonna die from caffeine. Caffeine. If I remember correctly, I had soda, water, pineapple, and a bit of alcohol, but- but," Lance held up a hand to stop Shiro's lecture, "I only chugged it because I didn't know what it was and I stopped the moment that I realized it was ethanol. Although, to be honest, it was really watered down. Well, not watered down, because water is supposedly toxic, but it was real weak. Like, a preteen could probably drink that entire beaker and it wouldn't do anything. It's right... here." He pushed the glass container towards Shiro, knowing that the man would want the alcohol away from children and near his own mouth. The dude was a tired dad in every sense. "Anyways, they got really terrified, especially when I kept making remarks about Terran uses for each 'poison', so all the Galra rushed out the moment the alarm went off, and then Pidge shut the sentries down so I just packed up the box and brought it along. I thought we'd all enjoy some flavor in our food. I also wanted- no, I needed the spice. Spice is life."

Shiro sighed, and picked up the beaker of ethanol, plainly about to down the entire thing. He was prevented from doing so - and the others were prevented from asking their burning questions - by a high-pitched, very terrified voice.

"PUT THAT DOWN, NUMBER ONE! IT'S HIGHLY TOXIC!"

"WHY IS THERE A BOX OF POISONS ON THE TABLE? GET THEM PUT AWAY, QUICKLY!"

"NUMBER THREE, STEP AWAY FROM THEM, YOU'LL BE DEAD IN TICKS IF THOSE TOUCH YOU!"

"Woah, woah, guys, it's okay," Shiro attempted to calm the Alteans.

"IT IS VERY MUCH NOT OKAY! WHY DID YOU EVEN BRING THOSE ABOARD?"

"PUT THE BEAKER DOWN, NUMBER ONE! WE NEED YOU ALIVE! THINK OF YOUR CHILDREN!"

"QUIET!" the Black Paladin snapped, patience running out like a little kid runs out of Halloween candy. The aliens fell silent, staring in shock at the leader of Voltron. Said man held out the glass, tipped it slightly in a cheers that showed the liquid quite clearly, then swiftly pulled it to his lips and drank the entire thing in one go. Allura and Coran both gasped in terror, eyes comically wide as they could only gape at the human. Shiro finished the drink off with a satisfied exhale, his own eyes closing for a moment as he simply took in the moment.

"Well, you were right about it being weak. I don't think an entire barrel of that stuff could make me so much as dizzy. And princess, Coran, this stuff isn't poisonous. At least, the- uh... Lance, what's the stuff that's in what you had?"

"Bromelain, caffeine, capsaicin, dihydrogen monoxide, ethanol, and carbonation."

"Those aren't poisonous to humans. They're actually considered common foods and drinks on Earth. Once Pidge finishes scanning it all, Hunk'll probably include it in our meals. No offense to either of you, but your food is awful. It's so bland that I once licked a rock I found on a planet just because it was salty and took away from the horrible taste that goo left in my mouth."

"Oh, I remember that," Keith put in. "That's why we got those salt-licks from the Earth store at our last mall trip."

"You- how are you not dead?" Allura finally blurted out, face tinging blue.

"Ethanol, or alcohol as we humans call it, is a large part of human culture. It used to be safer to consume products with ethanol than it was to consume just water, so people gained higher tolerances to it. It still affects us, and we can still die, but if it's taken in moderation and you wait until your body is fully matured, the effects are extremely minimal. Even now that most people have access to clean water, alcohol consumption is a common recreational activity. That said, Lance, you better drink lots of water. However weak that stuff was, I don't want to risk anything." Lance nodded as Coran spoke up.

"You consume ethanol, a known poison, which is still considered toxic to humans, for fun?" A nod answered. "What about the C18H27NO3? And the C39H66N2O29? C8H10N4O2? H2O?"

"Translation?"

"Capsaicin, bromelain, caffeine, and water."

"Oh, well, capsaicin is a poison found in peppers and I think a few other plants. Humans use it as a seasoning, and depending on where each person is from and how they grew up, tolerance levels vary. For example, Lance can eat a pepper that burns your hands severely. His tolerance is really high, probably one of the highest I've heard of. He was famous at the Garrison for it. On the other hand, I can barely handle a jalapeno, which is a pretty mild in comparison. Scratch that, it is very mild when compared to a Carolina Reaper."

"Bromelain is known to be toxic as well. But for us humans, it usually only causes a tingling or itching in the mouth, occasionally mild reactions in our stomachs as well. Our saliva and stomach acids digest the bromelain before it digests us, and so many people enjoy consuming pineapple, which contains bromelain, as a snack. There's even this big, extremely long dispute about whether pineapple should be put on pizza or not. Personally, we all had that discussion, and have agreed to each their own."

"Caffeine is commonly found in coffee and some teas, and in many sodas, which are all beverages. Chocolate is a treat that also can contain caffeine, and it's eaten by basically everyone who isn't allergic. Caffeine has been known to have adverse effects on people, but it's much like ethanol: consume in moderation and it won't do as much harm. It's actually used to help people focus and become more aware of their surroundings. What I wouldn't give for a cup of coffee."

"Black?"

"Common misconception. I actually enjoy mochas."

"Nice, but have you tried a con panna?"

"I was going to but my plan was derailed by a certain Empire of purple aliens."

"We have to get coffee at the Earth store. Or maybe a poison store. I mean, if caffeine is poison, the odds are good it'll be there. Then, Kaltenecker and I are making you the best con panna ever." Allura cleared her throat to gain Shiro's attention once more.

"What about dihydrogen monoxide? How is that considered nontoxic?" All five humans exchanged amused looks, chuckles slipping out at the chaos they were about to unleash.

"Princess, dihydrogen monoxide covers 71% of our planet. Most weather revolves around it and humans are actually made up of 60% water, with our brains being about three-quarters of water. We need to consume dihydrogen monoxide to live. I think the only reason we didn't die from dehydration is because the Castle started producing water for us. Really glad, too. Dehydration is an awful way to go."

"Your water is dihydrogen monoxide?"

"What's your water?"

"We Alteans did not have water. It's only translated because of other races and their need for liquids. Coran and I gain most of our fluids from goo and hydration pouches."

"Okay, so what does dihydrogen monoxide do to most species?"

"Number One... think instant death."

"Can we put this aside for now?" Hunk called out. He was holding the spice in his hands, running his fingers like it was solid gold.

"What're planning on making?" And just like that, the Alteans and their dismay were left behind to discuss something else. Allura and Coran exchanged looks and swiftly left once again to the control room, pulling up their new log.

Humans are extremely resistant to toxins. Many chemicals in Terran foods and drinks are highly poisonous to most other races. A list of known poisons in Terran victuals is included below. Some of these are actually harmful to humans, yet they will still be consumed. Once again, a list is included of these chemicals. Important chemicals to remember for the care of humans are caffeine and ethanol. Caffeine can be used to bring a human into a more alert and focused state. Effectiveness is yet to be discovered, and the chemical should be given in extreme moderation until more data is collected. Ethanol is known to be harmful to Terrans, but is still used as a recreational drink. Sparingly give to humans, and only when they are stressed or somber. It is a rule that only fully matured humans are allowed to consume this beverage, given the harmful effects.

Dihydrogen monoxide covers a little under 3/4 of Earth's surface, and is necessary for the survival of humans. Under no circumstances is it to be kept away from a Terran who requests the substance. Terran weather usually includes dihydrogen monoxide, so caution is advised when visiting Earth. Until further information is gathered, avoiding visiting the planet at all would be prudent. Be warned that humans are 60% dihydrogen monoxide, so touching a human's skin or fluids would be very dangerous and should be prevented at all costs, especially if a being is unprotected and/or particularly susceptible to the substance. Humans will likely not realize they are covered in poison, so it is best if they are reminded each time they meet with a being from another race, until they remember on their own.

Data is still being collected about this species. Approach with caution.

#voltron #vld #oneshots #humans are weird #humans are space orcs #earth is space australia #voltron oneshots #humans are weird oneshots

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jeogiyall · 3 years

Text

Betty; H.HJ

Word Count; 1.9k

Genre; Hyunjin x Reader, Highschool AU, Song Fic

Warnings; Angst, Cheating

Find the rest of my Stray Kids Folklore series here!

A/N: sooo i obviously never think that hyunjin would cheat on his partner, i only used this song and circumstance for him bc he’s mentioned that he likes it and ever since i can only think of him as i listen to it lol. i do not think that he’s a bad person by any means so pleasee don’t take it that way!! i felt the need to clarify that,, i sincerely hope that you enjoy!!

I won’t make assumptions about why you switched your homeroom

There were many things that caused your eagerness to start senior year, but the greatest of those was wanting to see Hyunjin again. It wasn’t exactly ideal to spend a summer apart after a mere three months of dating, but through the hundreds of phone calls and thousands of half finished letters you managed to enjoy yourself. Even still, you missed him like a bad habit that couldn’t be shaken. The last week of your separation you swear you dreamt of him.

When you first reunited keeping you apart was like trying to untie a double knot. That first night he held you so desperately in his sun kissed arms, as if you’d slip away. You had pressed your lips to his temple and whispered ‘I’m with you now. I’m always with you.’

And for the following weeks you were, the two of you attached as though it was necessary. If you were making breakfast sandwiches, Hyunjin was there. If he was taking his dog for a walk, you were there. Even when you walked into homeroom on the first day and slipped into your desk, Hyunjin was there right beside you.

But I think it’s cause of me.

People do say all good things must come to an end, so you suppose that means that all wonderful things must crash and burn. At least that’s what it meant in terms of your story. Suddenly you weren’t in homeroom next to Hyunjin, and you weren’t at his house helping take care of his sweet dog. Instead you were alone in your room with your tail tucked between your legs and looking obsessively at the same picture.

It’s a heartwarming image, two lovers in front of a neon lit diner exchanging a farewell kiss. Except one of the lovers has black hair falling to his chin and skin that's been embraced by the sun. One of the lovers has a face that you’ve kissed a hundred times. One of the lovers is Hyunjin.

And you so badly wanted to blame anyone but him when your desk partner in English showed you the picture. You wanted to blame the other girl, you wanted to blame Hyunjins friends that appeared frequently on the opposite ends of your phone calls, you wanted to blame yourself. But there was no doubt when you asked him. He did this. And he couldn’t give you an explanation past, ‘I don’t know why.’

You wanted to know why. You wanted to know how he could say that he loved you on your fifth date and still do this, you wanted to know what she had that you didn’t. You wanted to know if the tears that he had shed after your confrontation were for yourself or for him.

The worst thing that I ever did, was what I did to you.

Hyunjin didn't have a single answer to offer. He thought about it for months, he thought about it with that other girls skin beneath his hands. He thought about it while he was greedy for your company in the closing weeks of summer, because a small part of him knew that you’d find out. He knew that you’d find out, and then that you’d leave him. He deserved it. He wishes that he didn’t.

As the months without you marched onward Hyunjin found his evenings to be sleepless. He would toss and turn for hours, but it was all useless. It’s impossible to sleep in a room where every piece of furniture and every shirt that’s hanging in the closet reminds him of you. He almost wishes that he’d never dated you, because something was always going to end up hurting you. If not in this way he would’ve found something else. Hyunjin’s still not even sure he’s worthy of hurting you.

It’s not that he often hurts people, either. Most of his friends would say he’s a relatively kind person, he has his moments but it’s mostly just a joke taken too far that's followed quickly by apology. His eldest friend, Chan, was beyond shocked to hear about his summer mishap.

You’re just so good, and you loved him so dearly. He remembers the way that your eyes would hang onto his every word as if they’re worth something, or how you would stick your head out of the car window every time he rolled them down, or the time that you cried over a Pixar movie and then apologized profusely for ruining the date. You’re the girl they talk about in love songs, who smells of candy and whimsy. He’s nothing but a boy who would give you his entire heart.

He wanted to call it quits before this Summer, but you swore that this could work. He was going to object before you said that you loved him and looked into his eyes with sparkly hopeful ones of your own. He could never say no to you. That was always an issue.

It’s been months since he’s had that problem, or talked to you at all. Late Summer became early Fall, followed by Halloween and then Thanksgiving break. He spent every day missing you. He spent every day regretting his mistakes.

The only thing I want to do

You deserve an apology. He was so dumbstruck when you confronted him that no words would come out except for ‘I don’t know.’ He couldn’t even say sorry, despite the fact that he desperately was. He’s been thinking in the past two months that you deserve an apology, he’s been thinking in the past month that he doesn’t want to be with anyone ever again.

He knows that he should’ve considered that before ruining this. He knows that it’s a shot in the dark, but he also knows that he’ll never be able to forgive himself if he doesn’t at least try.

Is make it up to you.

So he’s on the way to your house. It’s eleven thirty at night and the early winter breeze is nipping at his nose, and he’s rounding your street corner with a million apologies bouncing around his head. He thinks that he could tell you that she meant nothing. He thinks he could say that he never once deserved you or your love for him. He thinks that he could say that he loves you more deeply than he ever thought was possible. He thinks he could say a million things, but then you open your front door and suddenly there’s not a single word to say.

You look the same as you did the last time that the two of you talked. Pieces of your hair are falling into your eyes, which glass over as they take in the sight before them. He thinks that he hears your breath hitch, but he also thinks that could be the sound of his own breath doing the same. You look so enchanting.

“Hyunjin?” You ask quietly. He looks so pretty beneath the light of your front porch, his summer tan gone and replaced with the natural honey tone of his skin. He looks similar to the last time that you saw him too, except for the fact that his hair is a bit shorter. It looks nice on him. Everything looks nice on him.

“(Y/n.)” You step out of your doorway to join him on the porch while he clears his throat, “I-I-“

Would you have me, would you love me

It’s probably the way that you’re looking to him with the same loving eyes as always, or maybe the way that he can see your fingers fiddling with one another in an attempt to keep your mind busy, or maybe there’s no cause at all, but his words are finally found. He knows that he has to let them all out now or else they’ll be lost for good.

“I am unbelievably sorry for what happened last summer. It was a mistake on countless parts that are all mine, but you have to know that it meant nothing to me. The only place it holds in my heart is a place of regret. I regret every second of it. She means nothing to me, and you… You mean everything. To this day and for every day to come, you will mean everything to me.” His hand has somehow slipped into your own, and you can’t help but squeeze it. You think that if you don’t you'll probably cry, “A-and I’m not going to beg for you to take me back, because I know that I don’t deserve it, but I will tell you this. If you take another chance on me I will make it my promise to never let you feel hurt again. Not by me or anyone else, because I love you and never, ever, want you feel as though I don’t.”

“Then why did you do it?” Your question comes out small, spoken with a voice that's choking back tears. Silence covers the porch steps for a moment, because Hyunjin honestly doesn’t know how to answer. There’s no way to answer that’s right, or excusable, or any of the things that a satisfying answer should be. There’s only an answer that is honest.

I don’t know anything,

“I don’t know, a-and I know that’s not what you want to hear.” He swallows thickly, thumb smoothing over the top of your hand for what could be the last time. He knows that if you tell him to leave he’ll have to respect your wish, but he also knows that it will hurt him for forever. He knows that he’ll have earned it, “I-I think I knew that one day you’d find out I wasn’t good enough for you, or that I’d end up disappointing you somehow, but I can’t honestly give you a definitive answer. I don’t know. I don’t know anything, but I know I miss you.”

You look into his deep brown eyes that are brimming with tears, and you want to tell him so many things. You want to tell him that you were never disappointed in him. Or that he was beyond good enough for you, or that he didn’t need to be for you to love him. You wanted to tell him that if he had only talked to you about his doubts then this entire situation could’ve been avoided. Instead you take his face into your hands, squeezing his cheeks ever so slightly.

but I know I miss you.

“I miss you too.” There's silence, nothing except for two beating hearts, “Let’s try this again.” He puts his hands on your waist and you think to yourself that you’ve missed the feeling. You think to yourself that you’ve missed Hyunjin.

“Can I kiss you?” His eyes are eager the way that you were to return home to him after Summer. They look innocent, sweet. Like he’s cherishing this as if it were his first kiss.

“Yes.” His body is gentle when it touches yours, as though you’re likely to break. You think that it’s wise, because in a way you are likely to break. You’re patched together with band aids and medical tape like a bird that’s been rescued off the street. Hyunjin knows this, just like he’s known many things before, but he’s promised to protect you. This is a promise that he intends to keep.

Taglist; @straytannies, @charm-art

#hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin angst #writekpop #kpopscape #admin reid #hyunjin fluff #stray kids #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst #folklore series #my love <3

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hello-everyfandom · 4 years

Text

“I never said I was good at picking names, for all I care we could call them Bob.”

Warnings: Baby fever

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader

Words: 1.9k

Summary: Seeing you with a baby in your arms gives George baby fever.

(I want a baby so bad. I’m only 19, but I just want a baby sooo bad!)

If George could capture any moment of his life, he’d snap a photo of you. You. All he could think about was you sometimes. He found himself amazed that someone as beautiful and kind as yourself had decided to love him, a poor boy of seven children who loved jokes and pranks. He watched you across the makeshift dance floor that the Weasley’s had put together in preparation for Bill and Fleur’s wedding. You wore a simple green dress with short puffy sleeves, on your neck adorned a small locket that George had gotten you for your eighth anniversary about a year ago. He could barely even place words on his tongue as you seemed to render him speechless, you were so carelessly beautiful, breathtaking, and stunning. He watched you laugh cutely, your nose wrinkled and eyes sparkling as you picked up Fleur’s cousin’s baby. You seemed entrenched, holding that small child in your arms. You bounced her on your hip, making wide eyes and speaking in a hushed voice, likely telling her how adorable she was with the blue bow on her head. You lifted your finger so she could grasp it with her small fat hands as you cooed and continued to talk to Fleur’s cousin. You were the most beautiful creature he had ever laid his eyes on. George swallowed thickly as your eyes caught his, send him a smile. You raised the small baby’s hand to pretend to wave at George. He could see you mouth to the baby, with a happy delight on your face,

“Whose that? Whose that? That’s George!”

It was no secret that George wanted children, he thought about his future and enjoyed daydreaming about teaching his child how to play quidditch or how to play a silly prank on Uncle Fred. But, seeing you with that tiny baby in your arms nearly made George faint. He had seen his future in front of him and he was more than happy with it. George had been certain he was in love with you the moment he met you, but he was for certain now you were the only woman he wanted. George managed to shake himself out of his trance and sipped on his glass of Firewhiskey whilst Lee Jordan and his twin made conversation, probably laughing about something silly.

“Excuse me, boys. I think I should see my lady over there,”

Fred rolled his eyes, “Don’t need to brag about it, mate, we all know you have a wicked girlfriend.”

“Yeah, bloody hell is it annoying,” Jordan joked but then asked with a straight face, “how did you do it?”

“Charm and wit and, well boys, I’m afraid you’re straight out of luck as you also need to be devilishly handsome and you two seem to lack that.” George heard Fred laugh whilst Jordan calling him a prick as he walked away. George made his way across the reception tent, placing himself at your side as you continued to speak to Fleur’s cousin.

“Don’t you look just absolutely enchanting,”

“Thank you, love.” You turned to face George, the baby babbling away happily in your arms.

“Actually, how awkward, ‘was talking about the little darling in your arms there.”

You let out a bark of a laugh before shoving his arm, “Oh, you little sod,”

“Oi! Should we be using that type of language ‘round the baby?” George placed his large, rough hands on your hip, cooing at the baby as well whose eyes seemed to widen at the sight of George’s red hair.

“I think she likes you, Georgie,”

“What can I say? I’m a ladies man,” George grinned, bending his head down to greet the child, “Hello you! She’s quite adorable don’t you think?” George asked you. You hummed in response, steadying her on your hip before reaching on your tippy-toes to slightly pull George’s bandages into a better position. You frowned softly and patted his cheek.

“What’s that look for?” George’s hands didn’t leave your hips,

“I don’t think I like seeing you hurt, actually, I forbid you to get hurt from here on end.”

“Yes Ma’am,” George looked at you so tenderly, so in love.

“Would you like to hold her?”

“Hell yes, I’d like to hold her!” George said excitedly, you scolded him before handing her off into his arms. He raised her above his head and making a wooshing noise with his lips. “Look at you, you’re a natural in the air. You’ll make for a good chaser, maybe even a beater if you bulk up a bit, but it seems you’ve got quite a bit of muscle there.” He squeezed the baby’s tiny arm. George seemed to be in his own world, with nothing but adoration in his eyes. You watched, reaching out your hand to place comfortably on his abdomen. If anyone were to look upon you two, they’d surely assume you were a young family, happy and loving as ever. You desperately wanted a family, despite the war storming onto your futures, you wished for a child.

“What do you think about having one?” George asked, making you blink.

“Having...?” You trailed off, also reaching to fix the baby’s bow on her head.

“Having a baby, of course.” George bit his lip to hold back his smile as he watched your eyes trail to look at his. You were simply so beautiful, it actually began to hurt.

“I’d love to have children, you know that.”

“I mean, with me.” Your boyfriend clarified. His voice seemed to portray humor however he couldn’t help but become nervous. Maybe you weren’t planning on staying with him? God knows he didn’t deserve you. Maybe you wanted children but wanted a rich boyfriend or husband or just, in general, didn’t want him. George’s worries were squashed as you blushed and looked down at the child in your arms,

“Of course, who else would I have children with? Fred?”

“Please don’t put that image in my head,” George groaned.

“Sorry, sorry.” You laughed lightly, pressing a kiss to his cheek, “I mean it, I would love to have children with you, one day.”

“One day?” George exclaimed, “How about now?”

“Nope.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Mmm, no.”

“Next week?”

“No.

“This year?”

“No.”

“Next year?”

“Maybe.”

“Really?”

“No.”

George chuckled, handing off the sweet child back to her mother. He held his hand out in front of him, motioning to you to join him in a dance. Night settled around the burrow as guests chattered and danced, all joyous in celebrating the love of Bill and Fleur. George held you in his arms, towering over you as he slowly swayed to the enchanted instruments that played. His hand placed softly on the small of your back. He could smell the perfume he so loved on your neck and could see the gloss you had placed on your lips just minutes before the wedding. He daydreamed about your children, wondering if they’d have his eyes or yours. If they’d be smart little arses or be more like their mother.

“Okay, maybe.” He heard you mumble against his chest,

“What’s that, Love?” George asked, lifting your chin with his thumb.

“Maybe we can have a baby... this year.”

George nearly jumped, rocketing into the sky and leaving nothing but his trousers and his shoes, he smiled wildly, “Really?”

“I’m just hesitant, I suppose. A baby is a big responsibility, Georgie.”

“I’m well aware, you seem to forget I have two younger siblings who so happened to have been babies once in their life.”

“That’s different! This would be... would be our child. I’m just a tad bit nervous.”

“Don’t be, we both want children, we both love each other, why not?”

“We’re quite young, George.”

“Mum had Bill young. Not much older than us, actually.”

“Yes but, the war-”

“Mum had Bill during the war as well. Really, Darling, your excuses are slacking quite a bit.”

“But the shop-”

“Is doing quite wonderful, now how else can I diminish your worries? I love you immensely, and I assume you love me, or at least tolerate me enough to be dancing with me now.”

You were silent for a bit, laying your head back on his chest. “What would you name him or her?”

George thought for a bit, “Well, I’d never name him after Fred. He’d surely grow a big head if I ever did that. ‘Sides, that’s something you only do after someone dies.” George thought a little longer. “Maybe something old fashioned like Geraldo or Hubert.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, covering your mouth, “Oh Georgie, our poor child.”

“I never said I was good at picking names, for all I care we could call them Bob.”

“Yes, well, that’s exactly what we won’t be doing.”

“If you’re so smart, why don’t you pick a name all of them, then.”

“Them? As in multiple?”

“Yes?” George asked confused, “Were we not going to have multiple?”

“How many were you thinking, Weasley?”

“How’s seven?”

“Seven!?”

“My mother had seven,” George said defensively,

“Yes, and I’m not nearly as strong as your mother. I’m not even sure how she raised you lot without pulling out her hair.”

George beamed and kissed your forehead lightly, “Alright, six?”

“Let’s try for one, and then go from there.” You laugh, pulling away from his chest to look up into his brown eyes.

“Fine with me,” George held your chin leaning in to press a kiss on your sweet lips. Before he could, a white orb flew into the tent making the guests gasp. Kingsley Shacklebolt’s voice rang out,

“The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming.”

For a beat, everyone was silent as if they weren’t sure what to do. Then, chaos ensued. Tables were flipped and frightened screams rang. People began to disapparate in a hurry as black flashes apparated into the tent. George held your arms as you stared up at him in horror.

“Y/N, go!” He shouted, grabbing his wand from his pocket. You searched for your wand that you had stupidly placed somewhere. You could hear George spit a spell at a Death Eater, yelling in your ears to return to the Burrow or at least apparate to safety. Realization flooded your bloodstream cold as you felt your entire self shiver with fear. You turned to George who had successfully disarmed the Death Eater and ran towards you, attempting to drag you away.

“George!” You yelled over the screaming,

“Y/N. It’s not safe here, Love. Go, please!”

“George!” You yelled louder, panic-stricken, “The baby, George!” Before he could do anything,

George watched you dash across the tent, your green dress leaving his eyesight.

“Wait! Y/N, your wand!” But you couldn’t hear him. George cursed, before throwing another spell at another Death Eater and chased after you, dodging the people and the flipped chairs. He was terrified that once he crossed the tent, he’d find your limp body. However, he found you helping up Fleur’s cousin who had fallen, the baby in your arms. You whispered panicky, pushing the baby in her arms.

“Leave! Run, quickly!” The mother looked at you and then George before nodding quickly and disapparating away with her child.

George sprinted over to you, you searched him for injuries as you held each other’s forearms. The eye contact you made was frantic and worried but glad you had found safety in each other. You nodded at your boyfriend with a knowing look before the two of you apparated away together, hand in hand.

#george weasley #george weasley imagines #george weasley imagine #george weasley oneshot #fred weasley imagine #harry potter imagine #harry potter imagines #harry potter

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descendantofthesparrow · 3 years

Text

Shuffle Playlist - Rewrite - Part of Your World - Harry Hook x Reader - Part 14 - Discoveries

Evie hung one of the last dresses on the transportation rack, when a knock sounded on her door. She pushed the dresses apart for her to step on the other side and called out; “come in!” Doug entered moments later, a smile on his face.

“Hey! How was the camping trip?” Evie turned to him with furrowed brows.

“C-Camping?” Doug's smile diminished and he looked at her slightly confused.

“yeah?” He tilted his head at Evie “Carlos and Jay said you and the others went on a last-minute camping trip to relax?...is-is that not what you did?” Evie sighed, the questions running through her mind stopping as she realized what had happened.

“oh, um, yeah they lied to you” Doug looked a bit offended “you see, Ben was kidnapped on the isle” now he looked alarmed “let me finish, we saved him and saved Auradon” Doug let out a small sigh of relief and took Evie's hands.

“is everyone okay?” Evie looked off to the side for a moment “you hesitated what happened” She grimaced and shook her head a bit.

“um, well…you know how our parents are kinda pieces of shit?” Doug looked surprised at the swear but nodded “well… Harry's dad is…kinda really bad and…that didn’t turn out well on Harry's side…that’s all I’m saying” she gave a small smile and turned, grabbing some of Dizzy’s accessories that she had brought back with her and sliding some on her arm to carry easier.

“Is he okay now?” Doug asked quietly, stepping to her side and leaning into her field of vision.

“yes” Evie assured him “Mal healed him when we left the isle and he’s with (y/n) now, he should be just fine for cotillion tomorrow~” Doug nodded and gave Evie a small smile.

“that’s good, you had me really worried for a moment there, was anyone else hurt?” Evie thought for a moment then shook her head.

“Mal has a cut on her cheek but that was the worst of our end thankfully.” She gave another smile and looked back down at the accessories “you know…while I was there…I realized something” Doug put his hand on her shoulder “I was lucky enough to be given a chance, and now I need to give someone else a chance too” her mind flashed back to five months ago when Harry had asked Ben to bring Uma over, and maybe after cotillion she could ask about Dizzy?

“My uncle bashful used the say that” Doug switched the topic, sensing Evie was not in the mood to talk about what had happened on the isle with him. Evie smiled, happy with the sudden change and turned to him, her brow raised a bit.

“did he?” Doug nodded, then pursed his lips a bit.

“but, really-really quietly” Evie laughed, spinning around to face the transportation rack and gesturing to it.

“come on, we have dresses to deliver~!” Doug happily obliged to her non-verbal request and moved to the rack, pushing it as Evie pulled it out of the room.

Two hours later, after every dress had been delivered, Evie returned to her room and grabbed her last two outfits she had to deliver.

A red rose gown and a red and black suit.

She handed the outfits to Doug and dug into her bag again, finding the red ruby earrings with small crossbones skulls hanging from the top. “perfect” she muttered, carefully holding them in her hand and leading Doug to (y/n)s room.

She knocked on the door, humming as a couple of moments passed by and no response came. She knocked again and sighed when again no response came, she gently opened the door and cooed as she looked inside the room.

On (y/n)s bed was her and Harry, curled up together under her many blankets as soft yellow fairy lights hung above them, the title screen of a movie playing on her tv.

Evie snuck into the room, gesturing Doug to be quiet as she set (y/n)s new earrings on her desk and motioned for Doug to hang hers and Harry's outfits on her closet door.

Evie spotted (y/n)s notepad on her desk and wrote out a small thank you note, pinning it to her corkboard that hung just next to her desk.

She ushered Doug out and turned, smiling at the sleeping couple, and slowly closed the door behind her, shushing it as it shut with a loud click.

“There we go” Evie sighed, turning to Doug and wrapping her arm around his “I’m starving, how about you?”

“Food sounds good” he chuckled, guiding Evie to the cafeteria.

Carlos watched from afar as Mal swung her feet just of the gazebo floor, her toes just grazing the cool lake water. He froze as she turned to look at him, her emerald green eyes softening and she invited him closer, turning back to the water as he did so and sat down beside her.

Mal laid her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes, while she and Carlos hadn’t been friends before Auradon, she was glad that she had him by her side now.

“so…you broke up with Ben?” Carlos started, giving Mal a soft smile as she looked up at him. She slowly looked back down at the water as she thought of what to say.

“I…yeah” she sighed, letting her weight fully lean onto Carlos, who lifted his arm and wrapped it around her shoulder. “I’m just…not ready for the relationship he wants…I know I hide my feelings and shit but…I really don’t know how he expected me to just, be good with all of this Auradon lady stuff within six months…I feel like a failure” Carlos let out a low hum, squeezing Mal's shoulder.

“well, you aren’t, you did your best, and your best was good enough, you just found out that that life…isn’t going to work out for you, it goes against your mental wiring, yes maybe you could adjust to it but would you be happy with it?” Mal pursed her lips, Carlos shook her a bit “well?”

“no” Mal muttered, picking at the loose thread on her pants “no I wouldn’t be happy like that…Ben…he said he wanted me…the real me, the isle me-wait…no he wouldn’t want her, she's rude as fuck” Mal smiled at the snort that erupted from Carlos, before it slipped off as she remembered something. Mal stopped Carlos as he was about to speak again “Hey…I did this for Evie but…I wanted to do the same for you” He looked at her confused “I’m sorry for the way I treated you when we were on the isle” he looked off to the side for a moment before he realized what she meant.

“oh! Yeah, it's no biggie” he attempted to brush it off but Mal adamantly shook her head.

“No! it's not “no biggie!” I treated you, Evie, and sometimes Jay, horribly! Even after we became friends! You were and are deserving of kindness, and I’m sorry that I was so fucked up that I was the rottenest little brat to you” Carlos stared at her with wide eyes. “what?”

His shocked look melted into a comforting grin “Thank you Mal” he wrapped his arms around her, pulling into a tight hug that only lasted a moment “sorry, just remembered; you’re not really affectionate” he laughed, grinning wider as Mal giggled along.

“it’s-its fine when it comes from you three” Mal hummed, turning to look back at the lake.

“sooo back to the Ben break up talk?” Carlos tried, smirking as Mal blew a raspberry “come on, you need to talk it out with someone, or else you’re gonna explode keeping it all bottled up.”

“…I’m happy I broke up with him” Mal spilled, not looking at Carlos as his brows shot up “I thought about our future and I realized if I kept doing what I was doing, and we kept going with how we were…neither of us would have been happy…I need to learn to love myself before I can love him properly, because…if (y/n)s forced quote an’ unquote therapy sessions” Carlos laughed at that “taught me anything. It’s that…I rely on someone else's love to measure my self-worth”

Carlos hummed, squeezing Mal's shoulder again “that’s not a good thing”

“no!” Mal huffed, running her hands through her hair and pulling at the roots “it isn’t! I've been trying to earn my mother's love for 16 years, then I just hop to doing so much bullshit to make sure Ben will love me! I dyed my hair blonde, I dressed in those itchy dresses, I dropped my entire personality for all that! And-and it wasn’t good, I felt like I was slipping away Carlos” Mal sobbed, tears trailing down her cheeks as she finally broke “I don’t even remember what I’m supposed to act like without all that because I spent so long doing it I just-I forgot what being ME felt like” Carlos fully wrapped his arms around Mal and pulled her tight to his side. “I-I know it sounds like I’m being pathetic and having a fucking pity party but I’m just so fucking scared Carlos” Mal whimpered, throwing her arms around Carlos’ torso and pushing her cheek against his shoulder “on the isle my life was commanded by my mother and my identity was pleasing her, and here my life has been being Ben’s girlfriend and pleasing the people of Auradon so they think I’m not some villain whose just after Ben because he’s king…I-I do really like Ben Carlos”

Mal sniffed, pulling back one of her arms and wipe her nose “I do, it's just that…being with him hasn’t helped me move on from my mother bullshit and im-gah!” Mal let out a yell, pulling back from Carlos and burying her face in her hands “I’m having a fucking identity crisis because of my fucking mother! Why can’t she just leave me alone! Why can't all this dumb shit be left behind five months ago! Why do I still have to deal with it?!” Carlos let Mal rant, rubbing her back as she broke down.

“because life is unfair that way” Carlos sighed “Mal I know exactly what you're dealing with right now” Mal peeked out from her fingers, her eyes shining “I still have nightmares from living in my mother’s closet, getting trapped in the bear traps on the ground, or when she would burn me with her cigarette…even ones were she sends dogs at me to kill me…I still hear her voice in my head, telling me I’m worthless, that I’ll never be better than dog chow, my only use was being her servant” Carlos swallowed down the lump in his throat “but I know she's wrong, I’m not anything she says. I’m a tech genius, I've made several computers on the isle just from scraps, I've enhanced my 3D printer to be the best in Auradon, faster than any other and the quality is still top-notch, I've made a tiny little device that was able to make a hole in the barrier, I've gotten offers to work for Tony fucking Stark!” Mal gasped, reaching forward to grab Carlos' shoulders in excitement.

“holy shit what!? When? How? Why?!” Carlos smiled, prying off her grip.

“I knew you all were distracted by something else, especially you, so I didn’t want to make you stressed by my stuff either, it was two months ago. I didn’t take the offer because I want to finish school, but the offer still stands when I graduate in two years” Mal grinned, but it turned to a pout as Carlos gave her a look “Now back to the original topic, I’m not letting you deviate from it, you need to let it all out”

Mal stared at him for a moment before shrugging “I…feel like I already did…Auradon is stressful, my mother is the base of all my mental shit, and I’m not ready to be in a relationship with the dude I love because until I can love myself and learn not to rely on others value of me as my own value I can't be with him in a way that won't hurt him” Carlos slowly grinned “what?” “you said you love Ben~” he teased, laughing as Mal turned red and smacked him.

“I did not!!” she screeched, yelping as Carlos half tackled her and pulled her into an arm lock “Let me go you heathen!”

“you love Ben~ you love Ben~” Carlos sang, laughing as she tried to smack at his face “Come on, pixie! Let's get you back to the dorms, I think you need a nap”

“Don’t call me pixie!”

“How bout gremlin?”

“Carlos!!”

Chad carefully pulled the 3D printed copy of the king's crown from the printer and pressed a kiss to the emblem on the front. “Finally,~” He walked over to the mirror that was installed in Jay's standing dresser and carefully perched the crown on his head, smiling as his full cotillion outfit came to light.

He looked like a king~

He tilted the crown down a bit and laughed, posing in the mirror “oh what's that? Why no Audrey, I haven’t chosen my queen yet~” He purred to the fake Audrey in his mind. He turned and started to walk away before spinning back around to pose again “why no Audrey-”

Suddenly his phone rang, and he turned, raising his brow as he walked over to his phone “who could be calling me?”

Caller ID - Audrey <3

Chad let out a high-pitched scream of excitement, dropping his phone to the floor as he gripped his head “ahhAH! Audrey!!!”

“chad!” Carlos groaned, glaring as the other dived to the floor for his phone, and shushed him “Chad! This is my room chad!”

Chad shushed him again, making Carlos roll his eyes. Chad hit the answer button on his phone “Audrey?”

“Hey Chad um, I’m kind of stuck in Sherwood forest, my tire went flat. Could, could you come help me?”

“yeah of course!” Chad covered the mic and turned back to Carlos “she got a flat tire in Sherwood forest and she wants me to come fix it~” Carlos squinted a bit and looked at Chad with an odd look.

“that’s six hours away”

Chad looked at him as if what he said wasn’t a long road trip. “Really? Only six?” he turned back to his phone and put it back to his ear “I’m gonna be there faster than I thought”

“Thanks Chad, I was going to come to cotilli-“ he pulled the phone away and pressed a kiss to the screen, hanging up on Audrey and starting to walk out the door when Carlos stopped him.

“Ah-My printer my crown” Carlos took the crown off Chad's head, who chuckled and gestured back from the printer to the crown before shrugging it off.

“I’m coming Audrey!” he ran down the halls towards his car, leaving a bewildered Carlos in his dorm.

“wow,” Carlos snorted, shaking his head and walking into the room, tossing the crown on Jay's bed. Carlos flopped down on his bed, Dude hopping up next to him moments later “these last two days have been crazy huh?”

“You can say that again” Dude snorted, halfway crawling on Carlos' chest and laying his head down “Nap time?”

“Nap time” Carlos chuckled, pulling his pillow over his face to block out the afternoon sun and sighed.

-end of part 14-

yep, part 14, we’re almost to Cotillion guys! also yep, Doug does not accuse Evie of cheating on him even though he had no reason to do so in the movie and he shows concern over Evie and her friends safety when she tells him about the isle~ what?? no~ this isn't a dig at Doug's awful D2 writing!! how could you accuse me of such a thing~! (Doug had alot of potential but like Mal it got ruined in the second movie and he was pushed as a full on background character in the third) also MORE CARLOS CONTENT~ yes he is smart boi and deserves that recognition and yes, the avengers exist in this universe. hopefully that Mal talk didnt sound like a pity party.

anyway PERMTAGLLIST

@queer-cosette @sephiralorange

@lunanight2012 @daughter-of-the-stars11

@musicarose @random-thoughts-003

@remembered-license @rintheemolion

@thecaptainsgingersnap @descendantsobsessed

@verboetoperee @imtryingthisout

taglist

@thesailbells @beccad10x

#disney descendants #harry hook #harry hook x reader #Descendents #descendants #harry hook descendants #harry hook imagine #anti mal #just in case #anti doug #just in case 2 #rewrite #part of your world #shuffle playlist

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