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thexsilentxwordsmith · 7 months

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Dad!Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon "Ghost" Riley, Reader

Summary: The birth of his first child changes everything for the rough around the edges military man. A small glimpse into his life now as a father.

Word Count: 3 k

Warnings: Fluff, mentions of being pregnant, just sweetness.

Heavy eyes blinking, trying to adjust to the darkness flooding the room, Simon drifted back into consciousness. Intaking a full, deep breath, he filled lungs with the calm air around the bedroom as he came back into his body from out of sleep. Turning his head towards the nightstand besides the bed, sight searching he finally found his target. Bright red numbers glared back at him from the cheap alarm clock sitting on the top as they cut through the night to tell him the time: it was still the middle of the night.

He was no stranger to insomnia and had made peace with it long ago. It was just a part of his routine now, though these days it seemed to benefit him more than hinder as his life was changing. Another deep breath he inhaled as he rubbed his bare chest with his hand, itching a place between his pectorals; he was completely awake now.

Turning back over, a muted smile spread across his lips as he caught your form laying next to him in the bed under the covers. Your body was faced towards him, head buried in your pillow with the covers pulled up to your chest, your hair laying haphazardly around your face like a veil. Gentle eyes watched your shoulders move ever so slightly up and down with the slow, steady pattern of your breathing. He always looked on you as if you were the only reason he knew what love was.

Because you were.

A rushing swell of emotion filled his heart as he looked upon the best fucking thing that ever had happened to him resting so peacefully. It made the hardened military man happy to know that he could create an environment where you felt safe enough to sleep so deeply, not a worry on your mind because you knew he would be there if anything happened. With careful fingers, Simon reached across the minuscule distance to tenderly tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and out of your eyes.

You did not even stir as he grazed those rough fingertips across your delicate cheek; the past couple of weeks had been a whirlwind of excitement and chaos and even though he knew you wouldn’t change a second of it, it still left you exhausted. Even more careful, he leaned his face in and gave your temple a quick peck, letting his lips linger against your silky skin a moment to breath in your scent before rolling back over to get out of bed.

Each step was strategic to be certain that you didn’t wake; you needed to rest and he wasn’t about to disrupt that. He had just made it out of the room, quietly shutting the door behind him when he heard a rustling and the beginnings of a small cry coming from the other room. Quickly and silently he moved through the hall of your mid-sized flat, over to the other bedroom where the door stood slightly ajar.

“Shhh… hey now,” Simon whispered quiet words of comfort as he moved into the room and towards the crib that was situated against the far wall where a tiny bundle that lay inside was just stirring from sleep. Again his heartstrings were plucked as he peered over the railing to what lay inside, his gaze falling upon a little girl- his little girl.

Scooping the infant up into his protective arms, his skin still nice and warm from sleep, he brought her up and cradled her snugly against his bare chest. “Let’s let your mum sleep, yeah?” he smiled down at his daughter. “You’ve taken a lot out of her the past several days, luv, but don’t worry, dad’s gotcha.”

Soon it’d be time to feed the little one and Simon would have to bring her to you, but right now all he wanted was to sit with the only other being in his life that had a permanent place in his heart. Grabbing her a blanket, they both moved over towards the rocking chair where he gingerly took a seat while making sure he had her secure in his embrace. There he sat, the tiny babe curled up on his bare chest under her blanket as he rocked them both back and forth.

One large hand on her back while the other cradled under her bottom for support, Simon delicately stroked his sweet girl’s back to sooth her sad whimpers. Slow, even caresses helped her to relax in his arms and a low hum that vibrated through his chest from some tune soothed her the rest of the way down. It wasn’t long before the motion of the chair and his tender touch lulled her back into a calm and he leaned down to place a kiss to the top of that small head as she let out a quiet coo like a dove.

“See? I told ya; dad has ya, princess,” he murmured against the few strands of hair that covered her head.

His touch was so gentle with her, so painstakingly careful as if he were afraid that one wrong move and he would break her. Those hands had touched so much death, dealt so much too, and he worried that he could never hold something so precious within their grasp without destroying it or tainting it in some way. And each touch of his hand had to be with a heart full of love for the little girl; that was the only way.

Anxious thoughts secretly kept him up at night for months before she was born, worries that somehow he would turn out to be just like his father, that he would somehow look at this tiny thing and transform into a monster. But the minute he heard that cry as she took her first breath in this world, all those fears seemed to evaporate into thin air; he was completely smitten with her and knew he would do anything to protect her. She would want for nothing, not as long as he was around.

Moving the baby off his chest and into his hands, he cradled her so that he could look into her face. So much of himself he saw in her tiny features it nearly brought him to tears: she had his nose, a halo of wispy blonde hair, his amber eyes. As he looked down at his little girl, so small and fragile, his could feel his heart nearly burst at the seams with all the love her had for her; his heart was so full of her that he could hardly call it his own anymore. It was like someone had taken the best parts of him and the best parts of you and made a perfect doll that he would get to cherish for her whole life.

How could something as pure as this come from a part of him? It was like magic, that somehow out of all the chaos and loss and struggle he had endured over his entire life she came, like a being made out of starlight that would always help him find his way out of the darkness. She was his miracle that came without warning, that he never knew he needed until he had her.

“I can’t believe you’re mine, princess,” he whispered lovingly to her calm, sleeping face as she snuggled into his hands. “Even when your mum told me she was pregnant with ya, I couldn’ believe I played a part in making something so damn wonderful. I mean, me with a kid? It seemed such a crazy thing. No one would have believed it, especially me, but now that you’re here I wouldn’t change a damn thing. Ya deserve everythin’ in this world, luv, and I promise I will work my whole life to give it to ya.”

Wherever life took him, whatever he had to do, there would be nothing that would stop him from giving everything he had to this little slice of heaven he created here with you. This was the only thing he could ever want now and it all started when a girl with a smile that could rival the sun took a chance on a man that felt like he had died long ago. You brought him back from the brink and now he had an abundance of reasons to keep on living.

In the middle of his chaos were you and his child and that was enough.

Picking up his daughter, her little legs scrunching up against her tummy, he brought her face to his lips and kissed her chubby cheeks before he rested her back over his heart. “I love ya, my little princess,” he said, “and I always will.”

***Over a year later***

A little chubby-cheeked girl sat on the floor of the living room playing with her toys, her wispy blonde hair tied up into mini pigtails on top of her head. It was getting late, but she couldn’t go to bed just yet…there was one more thing that waited for her to end the day. Joyfully she babbled away to herself in her own little world as she went about stacking and destroying a set of blocks until the sound of the front door opening caught her attention.

Immediately those autumn-colored eyes shot straight up as her sparcely-toothed smile lit up her entire face and spread from ear to ear for the person who had just walked in came into her view.

“Dada, dada,” she babbled excitedly as she struggled to her roly-poly short legs to toddle towards the sound. Her tiny arms reached up towards the figure, hands clasping together open and close repeatedly as a nonverbal request for the tall, hulking man currently setting down his things before crossing the floor to come and pick her up.

“ ‘ello sweetpea,” Simon’s gruff voice greeted her while a smile to match her own hit his lips the moment he caught sight of her. Quickly he bent down and scooped the child up into his arms, holding her in his full embrace. Instantly she wrapped her own short limbs around his neck and held him with all her tiny might as if transferring all her love into him.

“Tiss, dada, tiss,” she bounced up and down in his embrace and he was more than ready to oblige, kissing those rosy, flushed cheeks over and over to make her squeal excitedly with laughter. That didn’t take much since her favorite person in the entire world was home and that made her so giddy she couldn’t stand still.

“How’s my princess today, hmmm? Did ya run mum ragged?”

Oh boy did she have a lot to tell her father about the goings on of her day, rambling on in her limited vocabulary as Simon listened attentively, nodding along as she spoke animatedly about how she saw a dah-ug (dog) today when she went with you in the tawr (car) to the staur (store); from the moment she said her first word, which could have been nothing else than ‘dada’, she had to share her entire day with him and he was more than thrilled to hear it all every single time.

God, the way that little girl looked at him like he set the stars made all the stressors of even the most miserable day instantly melt away. He was her whole world in more ways than one. Who knew something so small and fragile could have the most significant impact on his life? Who could have ever know that when she came that he would get such a wonderful gift to cherish?

As she finished up her tirade, his eyeline was drawn over to you as you slowly and carefully moved up off your place on the floor and onto your feet to come stand beside him and your daughter. One of those big, strong arms meant for you latched around your waist and pulled you towards him where his lips were waiting to place a kiss to your own; both of his girls safe in his protective grasp.

This, this was home.

“Was she good today?” he asked as your mouths parted.

There was mischief in your eyes, your mouth tightening to not give you away by spreading into a smile. “Oh she was an absolutely…terror,” you picked, laughing as you watched that pronounced scowl furrow his brow and instantly cloud his features as his eyes narrowed. No one was to talk bad about his little girl and how dare you even try to suggest that she was anything other than perfect.

Turning back to his daughter, he situated her better upon his hip. “Mums lyin’ on ya, ain’t she?” he asked, ignoring your smirk and eye roll as he gave her another slew of kisses across her face that sent her squealing again. “I know my sweet Anna would neva be anythin’ other than a perfect princess.”

“Pincess,” Anna repeated through her giggles as she patted her chest. “Dada pincess.”

A phrase she heard so often from him throughout her short year and some change on this earth that she already recited it perfectly and Simon’s heart nearly burst at the seams every time she uttered it because she was and would always be his sweet princess, the one who came to save him, the one he would move heaven and hell for without a single qualm.

“That’s right, ya are dad’s princess,” he smiled as he had to swallow back the lump of emotion in his throat.

The way she could always immediately and consistently break down those walls that he had kept up for so many years was a thing of magic. There was no possible way for her to know the amount of struggling it took for him to become this gentle after all he had endured, how he had to burn himself nearly whole and rise anew from the ashes, but by God he would do it all again just for her and for you.

Silently you watched the two of them interact, the love pouring out of Simon like a fountain, and your breath hitched as you realized how lucky you all were. He held on to that little girl the same as he always had: as if she were the most sacred thing in the whole entire world and to him in his world she was just that. Breaking you out of your thoughts, he pulled you back in for another quick kiss; there were things to get done as it was already getting late.

“You ready for a bath?” he asked Anna and she happily nodded back.

“Baff, baff,” she repeated.

She was probably the only kid in the world that looked forward to bath time and bed because that was the time she got to spend with the person she was always missing the most. There was only a few more days till the weekend when Simon could spend more time with her, but for now these little moments were just enough to get them both through.

The sounds of splashing and laughter wafted from the bathroom as you took a tired seat on the sofa: Simon’s low gravely, subdued chuckling being accentuated with Anna’s light, higher pitched squeals of glee. There was no better sound in the whole world than the two of them together and you prayed that no matter how old you got or how your memories faded, that the music of them would remain something locked up tight that you would always be able to recall.

“ ‘ere she comes,” Simon called out to you as a naked baby wrapped in just a towel toddled her way over to you and jumped into your arms to tell you ‘noo nie mum’ (goodnight mum) before that burly man came after her, scooping her up and whisking her away to get dressed so that she could start to get sleepy.

Picking out a pair of pink footie pajamas with little flowers on them, he grabbed her blanket and a picture book off the shelf, making sure the lights were low before making his way with Anna in his arms to the rocking chair in the corner of her room.

Back and forth, back and forth, he slowly moved them as he read aloud about a very very hungry caterpillar, letting her chubby fingers glide over the pages as he laid out the story just as he had done countless nights before until her little head began to bob and her eyes flutter.

Setting the book down he held her against his chest, letting the rhythmic beating of his heart along with the rocking of their bodies in the chair to lull her into deep sleep. It seemed like only yesterday she was able to hold her in just his hands and now she was big enough to lay across almost the entirety of his chest.

"You're growin' up so fast princess," he whispered so softly it was barely audible. "I wish I could just stop time for a bit."

It stung his heart how sad it was that time seemed to be slipping through his fingers like sand through a sieve, but in the same breath he had to remark on how wonderful and breathtaking it was to see all the best of him and you reflected in the amazing little girl she was growing in to.

As he laid her down into her bed, he gently moved the fine strands of hair off her warm forehead to place a delicate kiss to her temple. “Sweet dreams, my sweet princess,” he whispered against her skin as her chest rose and fell at a slow pace while she drifted off into dreamland. “Remember, dad’s always here to keep ya safe.”

With quiet, easy steps he walked out of her bedroom and closed the door, another day that made it all worth waking up for. Sauntering back into the living room after having changed his clothes, he took his place beside you on the couch, pulling you into his arms and against his chest; he could always shower later, time spent with you both was far more important than all that.

“I think I’m gettin’ the hang of this,” Simon smiled against your lips, letting them linger over the soft flesh a moment more. “We did pretty fuckin’ good with our little girl, didn’t we luv?”

You turned your head and held his soft gaze. "We sure did," you agreed.

Taking his hand and placing it to the back of your head, he brought your face to his to rest your forehead against one another. "It was all because of ya that I have all this fuckin' happiness," he said with eyes closed as he breathed you in. "Ya both gave me a life I never thought I deserved."

"You deserve it all, Simon. Every once of it."

Leaning in the miniscule distance between your mouths, you met his lips with your own and he embraced them back as if to say 'thank you'.

“Think we can do it again?” you asked, breaking the kiss gently.

Simon lowered his gaze and moved his hand to your abdomen, cupping over the small swell of your belly and giving it a loving rub. You had just barely started to show as this second little surprise still had some time in the making, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t excited to see what this next chapter would bring. Was it a little sooner than expected? Sure, but Simon knew now that there was nothing the two of you couldn’t face together or that he would do for the ones he loved.

“Aye, I think we’ll manage just fine, luv.”

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #call of duty #ghost cod #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost mw2 #cod mw2 #simin ghost riley #ghost simon riley #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost x you #cod ghost

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thinlinez · 11 months

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MID YEAR FIC REC

Disclaimer: Since it is Pride Month, the 28th and also the middle of 2023, I would love to share some fics with everyone! I am not organized at all and I don't rec on the regular, but I hope that these fics will give you a great time reading them! I have followed each rec with my own feedback so feel free to read!

On such breathless nights as these by Marchessa @marchessa

As a newly presented omega, Harry has a hard time adjusting to his new life. Luckily he has the best alpha anyone could ask for on his side. The Moon had guided him to the most perfect mate in the world, and soon they will bond in the pale moonlight. He just has to survive the long road leading to the mating ritual.

Humans turned into wolves (ABO) is something that is quite rare in this fandom and I think T captured it greatly! Soft Alpha Lou in this one has my heart and I'm glad they got their happy ending compared to the angsty first installment!

2. Sweetest Devotion by brightgolden @brightgolden

After his divorce, all Harry wants in life is to provide a stable, loving environment for his three-year-old daughter, Evie.

Never in his wildest dreams has he ever considered that life might come with the presence of his teenage crush — Gemma’s friend from secondary school, Louis Tomlinson.

Luckily, Harry isn’t still pining over him.

Or so he thought.

Evie and her sippy cup plus Lou being so attentive (although he was a bit hot and cold during the process) was so fun and fluffy to read! Can't wait for more baby fever ;) from Mia!

3. Somebody's Got Your Trainers On (It's You) by bluegreenish @greenblueish

or, the one where, after two years, paediatrician Harry returns to Silver Street Hospital and with it to paediatric nurse Louis' life.

I'm always getting educated by Jill's fics and this one really showed how much research she must have put inside. I like the dialogue and am glad they finally talked it out in the end! Bit of angst but not too much, such a great balance!

4. READ LIKE A HEADLINE by The_Halcyonic_Lachesist @chai-hat-tea

Louis Tomlinson, a singer-turned-actor is the source of tabloid gossip and his latest project is jeopardised when the media interferes again. Tired of life handing him the short end of the stick at every turn, he finds himself at a bar drowning in his sorrows. A kind stranger tries to cheer him up, but Louis soon realises that the stranger does so much more than that.

Inspired by 'Headlines' from the album 'Faith in the Future' by 'Louis Tomlinson'.

When I was reading this, I felt kind of upset since it really reflects the boys' lives in reality. How everything is twisted by the media and they can't show their true selves. I love how H and Lou interacted and built some trust between them!

5. Bitter Ends Turn Sweet by allwaswell16 @allwaswell16

It had been four years since Harry first heard the song his ex wrote about him and far longer since they broke up. He forgave Louis long ago, and now his life was focused on his career, his family, and especially his son, Max. But Louis was back in Chicago, after all this time, and he’s not an easy man to ignore.

Or a songfic inspired by the song Chicago

I have waited so long for a new fic from Anitra and I think this one also ended up educating me about the thinkings and lives of children that are like Max. I love how sweet Lou is towards him and the scene in which Max led Lou around was so funny and fluffy! They are a match made in heaven (don't get jealous H hahaha)

6. waving to the hard times by beardyboyzx @beardyboyzx

Twenty-five years ago, a group of alpha soldiers led a revolution to dispose of the beta oppressive monarchy. Louis Tomlinson, the General’s alpha nephew, is set to follow in his footsteps and eventually lead the Country. When the arrest of a beta brings a silent resistance group to show themselves and threaten The General, Louis finds himself questioning the government's true nature and the equality of the law, in a quest that will change him for good.

SPOILER ALERT: Also one that I have been waiting for and had to take a few weeks to properly finish and DIGEST it! Lou's character change in this was so well written and of course the whole rebellion was happening right under his nose! I'm glad that he decided to open his eyes and not stick to what his uncle says... Really proud of Raf for gifting us such a wonderful and full of plot twist fic! Can't wait for the next part!

7. Puppy: There's A Long Way To Go by littleohs @littleohs

Harry has a newborn baby boy, adopts a puppy to grow up with his son, the new addition to the family, the important pediatric Louis Tomlinson making a important part of it.

When I first started Kam's fics, they always overwhelm me with their softness and tenderness and this one is no expection. I really like how it played out and of course Lou x H with pups is something I always need! (ps. I can't wait for you to finish Saet so I can rec it in my end of year rec wink wink love you)

8. Of Hangovers and Hell by unreadablehandle @unreadablehandle

Harry is not exactly a loves-social-gatherings guy. So when Niall talks him into going to a party, one during which Harry somehow ends up in a room of no other than the pretentious athlete Louis Tomlinson... shit goes down.

Shit really went down hard in this one, once you get to a twist there is another one just waiting to punch you and I think this is something that only Tess can manage! This fic definitely needs to be read if you seek twists and turns and thrills!

9. Chasing Feelings by Neondiamond @neondiamond

When homicide detective Louis Tomlinson first gets assigned to work with detective Harry Styles, the newest addition to the Doncaster police station, on the biggest case of his career, he’s less than enthused about it. There’s a serial killer on the loose, and Louis has no time to waste working with a newbie, despite how attracted his inner Alpha may be to Harry’s sweet scent. Along the way, he finds he may have been too quick to judge the Omega.

Really loved the process of it and I felt like I was reading a crime chasing thriller (which is making me have the urge to revisit Hannibal TV series) I like how Lou accepted H in the end and get their happy ending!

10. desperate, as the night moves on by callmelover @whenyoucallmelover

Or, the one where Louis visits Harry in Germany, and Harry just really wants Louis to fuck his face.

This one is such a feel-good smut fic, meaning if you read it all you get is soft happy and hot vibes and perfect for relaxation! I like how Lou always compliments H in this one! Lovely ;))

11. I love you in every kind of way by likelarry @likelarryfics

Harry leans back against Louis, holding Louis' hands that are over his waist. "I don't know, just don't feel very... feminine or pretty... or delicate."

"Darling, you don't need to fit a certain criteria to feel that way. You don't have to have shaved legs to feel feminine or be petite to feel delicate. You look beautiful right now."

Or, Harry just wants to be comfortable in his own skin.

This fic made me cry a bit since I know that it might have happened in reality (something close to it) and I love how Lou is so understanding and encouraging!

12. Briar Rose by stretchmybones @harryslonecurl

Louis is a royal who is coerced to find a mate due to his position in high society. Wanting absolutely nothing to do with high society, Louis chooses a peasant from a neighboring village.

Harry is quite far removed from high society. Has Louis gotten more than he bargained for, or will this be the connection he never knew he needed?

The FLUFF is everything and I love how they indulge each other! I think this fic made me giggle a bunch coz it's just got loads and loads of FLUFF.

13. sweaty palms and racing hearts by fearsparks @onlythebravest

(A short story of two shy, nervous and blushing boys on a date at the cinema.)

This was the first time someone gifted me a fic and I love it so much, thank you Julia, I reread it again and I feel like it deserves so much more attention since it's such a cute read! I love the nervousness in this one, reminds me of nervous dates as well!

14. make me your future history by treaclenectar @guccistrawberries

Louis and Harry agree to participate in a Valentine’s Day baking contest.

They've also got a bit of history.

Whats the worst that could happen?

Or an exes to lovers Valentine’s Day AU

This fic made me laugh so much and the dynamic in it is superb! So fresh to read and of course Tej did such a great job at it! I laughed again when just reading the tags (crack but not ass crack)

Please make sure to leave kudos and comments for these hardworking writers! Enjoy xxx

#happy pride month fic rec #middle of year fic rec #larry fic rec #fic rec

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zoeykallus · 2 years

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tbb x reader hcs - accidental “i love you” and what results from those three words…

you’re the best, thank you😊

Hmm, might be fun. Let me see....

The Bad Batch x Reader HC's - Accidental "I Love You"

Hunter

You say it

The first time you say it, it's an accident, you are not really a couple yet. You are flirting and hinting, the both of you, but so far you are not an item.

Hunter helps you out solving a problem with your blaster. You are tense and nervous, things have been going sideways for you for a while, and your stupid blaster just is the tip of the iceberg this week.

"Damn it!"

"What's the matter?", he asks calmly, approaching you.

You fumble with your blaster.

"It's not working again, I can't switch between stun and lethal"

You know today Crosshair will test you, he's training you on weapons, and he's a damn strict teacher. You really are not looking forward to his mocking when you fail again.

"Let me see"

Hunter takes the blaster, adjusts a few things and hands it back to you.

"There you go, should be working just fine"

You are so relieved, the words just come out of your mouth without thinking.

"Man, I love you!"

Hunter pauses, you do too.

"I mean... thank you, Hunter"

He smirks with a slight blush.

"Any time"

He says it

It was a hard mission, a hard day. Hunter is exhausted, feels beaten and not up for anything more today. But he knows, when he comes back, he has quite some things left to do before he can rest.

But as he comes back to the Marauder, sweaty, dirty and pretty much out of energy, you approach him.

"Hey, I took care of the problem we had with the refresher, and you got fresh blacks lying on your bunk. You can jump right in the refresher and get changed"

Hunter blinks, looking at you surprised as you hand him a thick sandwich and a water bottle.

"Here, I guess you need that now"

"I love you"

He needs a little to realize what he said, and you look into each other's eyes for a long moment.

Hunter is not taking it back or trying to explain himself, he's just looking at you, anxiously.

You smile shyly and say, "I feel the same about you"

Warmth spreads in his chest, and he smiles right back, before he steals you a kiss.

Echo

You say it

He is so sweet, helping you all day with everything. Echo is so considerate and helpful and caring. You can't help it, it just slips out at some point.

"I love you, Echo"

He turns around, looking at you.

"What was that?", he asks, confused.

Panic is rising in you. Should you try to lie or stand to what you just said? You kind of mean it, but then again it just slipped, feels too blunt.

"I...I..well, I said-"

"Hey Echo, need your help for a sec' ", Wrecker safes you unknowingly.

The moment Echo is distracted, you slip out of the room, down the ramp of the Marauder and run for it.

"In a moment", Echo says and turns back to you, only to see that you are gone.

"Where did they go that fast?"

You avoid talking to him about it and the sweetheart that he is, he won't push you either.

He says it

It's a bad day for Echo, another scan, a routine check-up, but he hates the med bay. The machines, the medical tools, the sterile environment, the narrow scan tube, it flares up bad memories and his severe anxiety.

You are there because Tech asked you too, quietly when Echo wasn't listening he whispered to you, "Do me a favor and be there for Echo's check-up. He's fond of you and I think you can calm him better than I can"

Of course, you help out. Seeing Echo so shaken and almost trembling makes you sad. But you smile and come closer to the stretcher he is lying on.

You softly grab his hand, and he looks at you.

"Tech and I are here. You know none of us would ever harm you"

He nods and shows you a brave little smile, but he's still tense, fear and restlessness bubbling under the surface.

As the stretcher, with Echo on it, started sliding into the scan tube, you had to let go of his hand, but Echo tried to hold on to it for a moment.

"It's okay, I'm still here, Echo. Just listen to my voice and breath Echo. Don't hold your breath, breath in and out"

He's stressed and breathing way too fast, the narrow tube making him panic.

"Echo, slow steady breaths, in and out. You are hyperventilating, just try to imagine you are in a warm bed, when you fall asleep. How is your breathing? Slow and steady, right?"

It takes a moment, but finally his pulse and breathing calm down.

"Very good, Echo. Just keep breathing. Remember that place on Naboo we saw last time we visited? That little restaurant near the river? Let's go there next time we get the chance. Remember how pretty it was? The soft whispering of the river's water, the sunlight reflecting from the water's surface. The flowers around the restaurant's porch. Must be a really nice view from that porch"

"Done", Tech says, and the stretcher slides back out of the tube.

Echo sits up, a little shaky. He grabs your hand as you are about to leave, because technically, your work here is done.

"Don't go!", he urges you hastily.

You turn back to him, coming closer. You softly lean your forehead against his, holding his hand, trying to show him you are there, grounding him.

"Okay, I'll stay with you, Echo"

"I love you"

You don't retreat, you know he needs you right now. With a fast beating heart, warmth spreading in your chest, you say, "I guess you meant to say 'thank you'"

Echo chuckles nervously, "I did. But what I said is still true. I'm sorry, I'm vulnerable right now, it slipped, couldn't hold it back"

Your heart beats even faster as you softly say, "I love you too"

Tech in the background silently retreats, feeling like an intruder to the scene. There was nothing to see on the scan anyway.

Wrecker

You say it

He's so amusing, making you laugh. Wrecker makes you feel so good today, so happy and playful and relaxed. That man just attracts you like a magnet, he's so easy and fun to be around.

"I love you"

Wrecker cocks an eyebrow at you.

"You do?"

"Well uhm..." panic rising in you, you try to wriggle your way out of this "Yeah, like a wonderful friend, you know"

Wrecker nods slowly, you are not sure if he's disappointed or not.

"Yeah sure, I feel the same way, like a really good friend, right?"

You laugh nervously and nod again.

"Exactly"

He clears his throat and says, "Friends can love each other, right?"

"Yes, absolutely"

"I love you too... friend", he says with a nervous little smirk.

He says it

You are having fun, all day Wrecker and you are joking around and in the evening, you decide to cook something for him. He is in awe about your cooking and the fact that you do it for him.

This time the famous three words, slip out of him instead of you.

"I love you!"

You blink and look at him.

"Like a friend, right?"

Wrecker scratches the back of his head, shrugging.

"Well, yeah. But also not"

"Meaning?"

He's fumbling with his fork, looking at his own fingers.

"There is more, it feels like more than friendship. I think. I didn't mean to burst it out like this but... it is true"

You smile at him shyly as he finally looks up again.

"I think I like that", you say softly.

Wrecker smiles back at you.

"You do?"

With a nod, you say, "I think I love you too. Not just like a friend"

"Oh, Mesh'la, you make me really happy", he says with a wide grin.

Tech

You say it

You do have a thing for Tech, you know it, everyone knows it. Tech is the only one who doesn't know it. So far, you didn't dare to tell him yet, or try anything to get really closer to him. But every time he looks at you, your heart skips a beat, and you get all warm and fuzzy.

"Stop!"

You freeze in your movement.

Tech comes to your side and softly takes the tool out of your hands you just picked up.

"You'll hurt yourself holding it like this", he says calmly.

"Oh, I didn't know"

He smiles softly and you melt inside.

"Look, I'll show you"

Inside you're all giddy, he touches you, he guides your hands to the tool, showing you how to hold it while he explains a few things. You just feel his touch, hear his voice, and he is so damn close. You can hear him talk, but your mind is far away from what he is saying, lost in your vivid daydreams about Tech.

As you stare up into his face with wide eyes, his gaze meets yours, and it just slips out of your mouth, "I love you"

"Excuse me?", he asks, confused.

You panic. The words were just in your head, but suddenly on your lips. Hastily, you drop the tool, turn on your heel and run to the ramp.

"What are you doing? You can't go out, we're in space, dear", Tech says dryly.

"Oh, right...kriff"

For a split second, you think about still opening the ramp and let yourself get sucked out into space to avoid facing him right now.

You just stare at the closed ramp, not daring to turn around and look at him. Pity, if you did, you'd see the slight blush on his face and the little soft smile.

He says it

Tech talks a lot in his sleep. His mind never really comes to rest, always active and working. By now, you are used to walking past his bunk and hear him mumble all kinds of things in his sleep. But when you hear him mumble your name, repeatedly, you stop and listen closely.

He's got his arms and legs wrapped around his blanket mumbling, "Love you, come and cuddle"

You look at him, surprised and in awe. Tech looks and sounds so cute.

He's hugging his blanket tight and keeps mumbling, sometimes you can hear your name, but most of it is gibberish. But suddenly, he blinks, slowly opening his eyes and looks at you.

"Why are you staring at me?", he asks, a little panicked.

"You said my name, Tech"

"No I didn't"

"Yes you did, in your sleep"

Tech's eyes are suddenly wide open and his cheeks blush.

"No, I didn't", he repeats.

"Yes, you... never mind. Sweet dreams, spider monkey"

You walk past him, and he looks after you with a racing heart.

Crosshair

You say it

He is on his self-made shooting range. You watch him like you do most times. Crosshair looks so stunning, with his rifle, hitting every target, handling the weapon like a master of his art.

You can't stop admiring him. He's got his back turned to you right now, but he knows you are there, giving you a show. Crosshair likes to show off a little, you know that, and you don't mind, he never fails to impress you.

You are aware you have a crush on him. He's attractive, he's smart, he's cool, and he's one hell of a soldier. But he is also pretty intimidating. That sinister stare, his snark and often aloof behavior makes you nervous.

You sigh softly and say, "God, I love that man"

He's freezing in his movement, then suddenly he slowly turns around.

Your first thought is, Oh shit, he heard me!

Crosshair is looking at you, there is absolutely no way to tell what he thinks right now. For a pretty long moment, he just looks at you, unmoved. When he suddenly cocks an eyebrow at you, you jump up from the rock you were sitting on and flee the scene.

He watches you leave in amusement, muttering to himself, "Hmm, interesting"

He says it

Nope. That's probably not going to happen. Not on accident. He is way too reserved and collected for something like this to happen. No matter how smitten he might be with you. If he says it, he does it fully aware, meaning what he says very seriously.

A not very likely, but at least possible scenario could be in a lovemaking session, when you've completely blown him away (Pun intended). He'll try to mask it somehow, or change the subject and distract you.

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

@rintheemolion

@andyoufollowyourheart @clone-whore-99

@brynhildrmimi @kaliel2310

@misogirl828 @tech-deck

@meshla-madalene

@chxpsi

@thebahdbitch

@nahoney22 @ladykatakuri

@darkangel4121

@ttzamara

@arctrooper69

@padawancat97

@agenteliix

@puppetswithteeth

@palliateclaws

@either-madness-or-brilliance

@ortizshinkaroff

@andy-solo1

@hunterssecretrecipe

@heyitsaloy

@greaser-wolf

@starwarsnerd111

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kittyt-hexxed · 2 years

Text

Grayson’s True Prodigy (Sevika x POC!Reader) - Ch. 2

Grayson’s True Prodigy Masterlist

Next Upload Date: September 13th

Act 1: Chapter Two - Metamorphosis

Warnings: Drowning child, inattentive parents, tension between the cities

Summary: Returning to Piltover is more bitter than sweet. Your mother seems to get even stricter with you, but Grayson is there to keep you company. A trip to get ice cream results in you saving a child and you learn about the struggles between your two cities.

Coming back to the isthmus filled you with apprehension knowing that you’d be back at the manor. You had gotten so used to all of the love and affection from the monks and Grayson that it made you feel like you belong. You were given a taste of freedom and that made a difference in your mind. You were unsure about how the change in environments would affect you, but as long as Grayson was around, you knew that you’d get through it.

You step out onto the deck, your dress blowing in the wind and you grumpily adjust the collar. ‘This feels so itchy and restricting! How did I wear this before?’ You can see the dock getting closer to the boat as you lean over the railing. Within the next ten minutes, you’ll be back at the manor and going back to your misery. ‘I wish we could have stayed longer.’ You can hear Grayson approach and that’s confirmed as you see her shoes when she stands next to you.

“We’re home now, sweet one. Are you ready to go back to normal?” Grayson nudges you. You turn your head to her and raise an eyebrow.

“You mean itchy, fancy dresses and frilly socks?” You joke, “I’m sooo thrilled.” You pump your fist into the air with fake enthusiasm.

“You got used to the robes and wraps, huh?” Grayson chuckles. The clothing worn at the monastery was designed to be comfortable, warm, and suitable to fight in. They were made with either pure cotton, wool, or silk from Ionian silkworms. Going from that to other types of clothing would take an adjustment period.

“Uh, yeah!” You laugh, “They were so comfortable and I looked cute in them!” Your response makes Grayson laugh and you spend the next few minutes joking about what you’re looking forward to. Your favorite response was Grayson saying she couldn’t wait to pick the seeds out of her oranges. You had laughed so hard that you struggled to breathe. The boat gets ready to dock so you head to your cabin and grab your bags. As you pass her, Grayson takes your bag from you with a grin and tosses it over her shoulder. You give her an exasperated glance but let her carry your bag anyway. Unfortunately, this would be the life you’re going back to. You head off of the boat, looking for the escort that would be greeting you two, and scowl when you see Marcus. ‘Why is he the one here for us?! I hate him!’

“Welcome home, chief!” Marcus grins along with the other Enforcers.

“Marcus, it’s nice to see you.” Grayson nods respectfully, “Hello everyone. Are you our welcoming party?”

“Yes, we’re here to escort the youngest Kiramman home. Councilor Kiramman thought you wouldn’t have wanted to work as soon as you arrived.” Marcus says and motions for you to follow him. You let out a quiet groan and Grayson nudges you with a slight smirk. The walk back to the manor is filled with annoying chatter that has you dying to run to the next boat to Ionia. Marcus talked about nothing but Enforcer business that had you silently miming at Grayson to stop it. At one point, Grayson convinces him to talk about his wife so that was mildly better. The closer you got to the manor, the more anxious you became about seeing your family. ‘A lot can change in a year. Maybe papa won’t be as sweet to me. Maybe Caitie won’t want me as her sister anymore? What if Mother disowned me?’ You suck in a sharp breath, but the hand on your shoulder reminds you to breathe. You glance at Grayson who gives you a reassuring smile as the gates are opened and Marcus steps aside. You let out a shaky breath as you see your family standing on the steps.

You’re nudged forward and start walking towards them. Papa races down the steps the moment he sees you and you let out a squeal as you’re picked up and whirled around.

“PAPA!” You shriek and laugh as he does.

“My sweet flower, I’m so happy you’re home!” Papa hugs you and you happily hug back. ‘He’s happy to see me! Papa hasn’t forgotten about me!’

“I sent letters, papa! You know that!” You giggle as he puts you down.

“I know, I know, but to have you home safe is better than any letter.” Papa gives you a teary smile. In all of the excitement, Caitlyn had made her way over to you. You turn to your sister, noting that she’s taller than when you left, and give her a small smile. Caitlyn jumps into your arms and hugs you tightly.

“Don’t you ever EVER leave me again!” Caitlyn shouts, hugging you tighter, “The manor is too lonely without you! I had no one to sneak into the library with!” She sniffles and wipes her tears away. You give her another brief hug, surprised but happy to see that your sister missed you so much.

“Don’t worry, I won’t be leaving like that again.” You pat her shoulder, “Besides, I have so much to share with you guys! Grayson and I went EVERYWHERE!” You bounce on your toes with newfound excitement. There was so much for you to share from your adventures. You would be keeping most of your trip a secret, but you had more than enough to talk about.

“There will be time for that later.” You freeze at your mother’s voice, “You should shower and get changed before lunchtime. Then you can share what you saw on your trip.” You look up at her to see her stern stare and nod. Just like that, your voice had been swept away.

“You’re welcome to do the same here, Grayson.” Mother says in a softer voice, “All of your things are still in your room.”

“Thank you, Cassandra. I’ll take you up on that offer. Besides,” Grayson ruffles your hair, “I’ve got to make sure this little one gets all of her keepsakes.” You light up at the sound of that. You had gotten something from every region, but the monks were the ones who collected your keepsake from Ionia. You had no clue as to what it was.

“What are we waiting for!” You grab Grayson’s hand and start tugging her to the door, “Let’s go, Gray!”

After returning home from Ionia, you quickly learned that nothing changed between you and your Mother. If anything, she was stricter on you now than when you left. You had overheard her telling your papa that she had expected the trip to clear your system of your disobedience. You frowned and ran back to your room to do some calming meditation, going as far as pulling on your robes. Anything to feel like you weren’t stuck in your room.

Your mother had put you into the same lessons that Caitlyn was taking. You were learning how to be a proper clan leader and it bored you out of your mind. Etiquette, speech, dancing, table manners, and even learning what to wear for specific events. You couldn’t understand what Caitlyn found fun about it when it put you to sleep. The real fun times were Caitlyn’s shooting practices when Grayson came over. Your mother had decided that Caitlyn was ready for proper gun training, and asked Grayson to teach her. Once a week, Grayson came by and took the two of you out to the range. You would sit in the back and watch with mild interest, zoning out to the days in the jungle where you practiced your magic.

You felt a bit possessive seeing Caitlyn getting so close to Grayson. Part of you was scared that you’d lose her since Caitlyn was seen as the golden child, but you knew better. You had to remind yourself that you and Grayson have a bond that goes to the spirit realm. Not only that but Caitlyn couldn’t steal her from you because Grayson is a woman who is capable of loving both of you. That didn’t stop you from tentatively mentioning your concerns to her and Grayson sat you down and addressed your feelings with you. She reassured you that she wasn’t going to forget you or choose your sister over you.

Papa had started to be more active in your life. He was approaching you about doing things together or even asking to help you study. He made a point to find out about your interests and hopeful hobbies. You had giggled at his shocked face when you said you have an interest in botany. The determined expression that followed shortly after made you feel seen. Your papa took it into his own hands to make sure that you were able to do the things you wanted to. That’s how you ended up with botany lessons, a sewing course, and a flute instructor.

Meanwhile, you and Caitlyn got a bit closer. You would think that at the ages of ten and eleven - respectively - you would have more in common. Unfortunately, you didn’t. The only thing you shared in common was your love for Grayson. Occasionally, Grayson would take you both out to get ice cream or go shopping. You would listen to your sister ramble about her training while trying to eat your ice cream before it melted. One day in particular, about a year after coming back to Piltover, the three of you were walking by one of the canals. As usual, Caitlyn was rambling about her training. You were happy she was doing something she enjoyed, but you wanted to talk about other things with your sister.

“Grayson.” You whine quietly, “Make her stooop.” Grayson shakes her head and you groan. You were getting closer to the ice cream parlor and you spot a group of kids playing by the waterside. You narrow your eyes at the inattentive parents and frown. ‘Grayson said it’s important to always keep an eye on kids in areas like this.’ You shake your head, but keep watching them. Even while you waited in line to get your ice cream, you kept your eyes trained on them. It was much more entertaining than hearing Caitlyn ramble about her gun for the thousandth time. Your eyes widen when one of the little boys gets pushed and falls into the canal. You can’t hear his reaction over the screaming from the other kids, but you see the terrified look on his face. A second passes, and none of the parents acknowledge what happened while the kids continue playing. Your heart drops as you remember the swimming lessons taught to you in Ionia. ‘It doesn’t take long to drown.’

Your feet are moving before you can process it, and you hear Caitlyn shout your name from behind you. You run past the parents, scrambling through the crowd of children, and leap off of the edge. Your eyes anxiously dart around but you don’t see the little boy before you’re submerged. The water was dark and cloudy but you continued to swim down. There was only one way he could go if he couldn’t swim and it was down. ‘I need help! Please, water spirits, show me the little boy! Please!’ You plead to the spirits in the water. You didn’t know if it would work but you had to try. You couldn’t use your magic away from Ionia, you had tried the moment you got home and felt nothing. A glowing turtle appears, followed by a few more, and they circle around something in the water. ‘Yes! Yes! Thank you!’ You mentally cheer and grab the little boy, but there was no response from him as you did. Immediately, you start swimming back up with him, and thanks to the water his weight wasn’t keeping you down. You were moving with more urgency now because your lungs were burning, and you needed to get up as soon as possible. You feel vibrations through the water and glance down to see the water whirling up to you. You see flashes of the water spirits in the whirlpool and it makes your heart feel lighter.

The water carries you to the surface and you break through right as you’re forced to inhale some water. You cough painfully and try to pull the boy to the steps, but now that you’re at the surface, it’s much harder. Shouts and screams come from above you, and you can see a crowd of people at the edge of the canal. ‘It would be great if one of them jumped in to help.’ You think sourly. Suddenly, you’re moving toward the steps a lot faster as if you’re caught in a current. You lock eyes with Grayson who leans over to grab you two out of the water. You sigh in relief and with her help, you get the kid out of the water first. The moment you do, Grayson is already starting CPR knowing that you can manage yourself. You pull yourself out and glance back to see a watery figure of a turtle vanish into the canal. Someone grabs your hand and yanks you out of the way as a woman nearly crashes into you. You whirl around to see Caitlyn looking at you with wide eyes.

“Y/n, are you crazy! I didn’t know you could swim!” Caitlyn shouts, panicked, “I–I thought you- When did you learn that?!” She hits your shoulder as her words fail her.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you!” You rub your shoulder, “I learned how to swim when I was in Ionia. One of the monks found out I couldn’t swim and freaked out.” You blush, remembering how Elder Abe had dragged you down to the river, cursing out your parents along the way. You spent the whole day flailing around in freezing water before Grayson came marching down to strangle her old mentor. The next day, Elder Abe calmed down and properly taught you how to swim. It was terrifying to see how skilled a 112-year-old fish vastaya was in his element.

“My baby! That’s my baby! Please tell me he’s okay!” The woman who nearly knocked you over wails as she drops to the ground next to Grayson. You anxiously watch as she gives him CPR, hoping that you got there in time. It didn’t feel like it took you long, but that might not have been the reality. You and your sister clutch onto each other’s arms as you watch Grayson. ‘Come on. Come on! Please tell me I got there in time!’ You lean forward anxiously. Grayson pulls away and the little boy starts coughing up water. The medics that were waiting behind you run down the steps and start their check-up on the boy.

“YES!” You and Caitlyn scream together as Grayson helps him sit up. Relieved sighs and cheers sound as a grin comes to your face. You practically hop in place in a mixture of excitement and relief, unable to stand in place. You see a brief flicker of anger across Grayson’s features as she gets up. ‘She’s really really angry.’ You frown. ‘The only thing that can make her this angry is when children are involved.’ You move close to hear what she’s going to say, and Caitlyn gives you a questioning glance. You raise a finger to your lips.

“I could charge you with neglect.” You hear Grayson scold the woman, “If it wasn’t for my charge, your son would have died from your lack of attention. You get ONE warning and only one.” She glares at the woman. Grayson glances up at the other parents and raises her voice, “That goes for every parent here! A child was the one who dived into the canal when there was more than enough of you to have someone pay attention! I hope you go home today knowing how close you all were to being charged with neglect!” You nod in agreement with what she said. Grayson says a few more things to the woman before coming back to you and your sister. You glance at Caitlyn, who has a shocked look on her face and give her hand a squeeze.

“You did an amazing job, sweet one.” Grayson puts her hand on your shoulder, “But, next time, please alert me before you run away. You gave your sister a fright.” She sighs.

“I’m sorry, Gray. I’ll do that if it happens again.” You sheepishly play with your fingers. With that, Grayson took you back to the ice cream parlor and you sat outside to air dry. As you did, your back started to itch so you briefly scratched it. Throughout the day, the itchiness kept on coming back. By the end of the night, as you got out of the shower, you were furiously scratching at your skin. The itching is unbearable at this point. Suddenly, you feel dizzy and have to lean up against the wall for support. You look down at your hand and see it glowing. You gasp as a rush of warmth goes through you, the itchiness disappearing, and something bursts open inside of you.

You watch in awe as the world fades around you and your feet leave what was the floor. The green glow covers your body and your eyes flutter shut against your will. Your hair whips around as heat flows over you and you open your eyes to see vines wrap around your body. When they vanish, a beautiful dress falls around you and you feel a weird breeze on your back.

Your room fades back into focus and you find your feet on the floor again. You blink realizing that you’re wearing a pair of green flats that match your dress. You turn to your mirror and shriek when you see yourself. ‘Wings! I have wings!’ You squeal excitedly and look at them in the mirror. They’re small and transparent-ish white but they remind you of a dragonfly’s wings. You try to move them and they flutter ever so slightly. You giggle happily and twirl around, looking at yourself in the mirror. Your dress glitters in the lights and something feels right about this. ‘I can’t believe I got my wings! I-I’ve got to show Mama! She’s going to be so proud of me!’ You run to your balcony and throw the doors open. ‘I know she’s working late tonight, so she’ll be in her office. And, no one will come to my area of the house tonight!’ You grin to yourself and close the doors behind you.

Too thrilled to think about what you’re doing, you glance at your wings and try to move them. They flutter before slowly picking up speed and you let out a small gasp as your feet leave the ground. Soon, you’re rising into the air with a giggle. You take a deep breath before something clicks in your mind and you take off towards the Enforcer compound. You can’t contain your laughter as the air blows against your face and your heart soars. ‘I can’t believe I’m flying! This is so cool! I’M FLYING!’ You cheer as you fly above a row of buildings. You nearly crashed into a few on the way with your abilities being so new, but you got there in one piece.

You hover above the balcony to Grayson’s office before shakily landing. You hold your breath as you lose your balance and have to catch yourself. With a cheeky grin on your face, you knock on the door and take a step back. Not even a moment later, Grayson pulls the curtain aside and her eyes widen in surprise. She opens the door in a hurry and you skip into the room.

“Ta-da!” You giggle and show off your outfit, “I got my wings, Mama!” Grayson stares at you in shocked silence. You pause, realizing that this is the first time you’ve called her Mama out loud and not in your head. ‘Oh no… Does she not like that I called her mama? Is she mad at me? Did I upset her?’ The smile slips from your face due to your thoughts. Grayson walks over to you and pulls you into a tight hug that has you tearing up.

“Don’t you dare think those thoughts. I knew you could do it, sweet one!” Grayson says proudly, smoothing your hair back, “You were so brave today. Of course, you’d get your wings after that! I’m so proud of you!” Those words coming from Grayson broke you. You start sobbing in her arms and she holds you tighter. Those words were what you craved to hear from someone and it was unbelievable to hear them from her. The woman you see as your real mother.

“Y-You don’t- don’t mind me c-calling you, m-mama?” You struggle to speak through your tears, hiccupping as you try to hold it back.

“My sweet one.” Grayson gazes at you with kind eyes, “I don’t mind at all. I love you as if you were my own child.” She whispers sincerely and wipes away your tears.

“To me… you are my child.” Grayson whispers delicately.

“I love you, Mama!” You wail. ‘She sees me as her daughter! She sees me as her daughter! This is the best night ever!’

After that, you became Grayson’s shadow when you weren’t taking lessons. Finally accessing the magic inside of you resulted in a deeper connection with her. You started to refer to Grayson as your mama in private and she referred to you as her daughter. As a result, you became more distant from your mother and kept things simple with her. You went to your lessons and did what she told you to do, but that was the extent of your interactions with her. Your mother tried to get you to stop going around Grayson, but what place would you keep out of trouble best than with the sheriff?

You spent a lot of time at the Enforcers’ compound and learned how it was run as a result. Learning about it helped you understand why Grayson was always so busy. She was the final say for everything and she had to keep the others in line. Not everyone who became an Enforcer did it with good intentions. Some people did it so they didn’t really have to work as most time was spent on patrol. None of the Enforcers thought their co-workers would rat them out because if one came forward then the rest were caught. But, they didn’t take into account that you overheard a lot of their conversations. You did your best to stay out of sight when you caught wind of conversations you shouldn’t be hearing. One time, you were even sitting at the table they were gossiping at and eating your lunch before they approached. They underestimated you and you used it to your advantage. Most of the things you heard upset you and you had to approach Grayson one afternoon with your concerns.

“Mama, are you okay?” You frown as Grayson closes her office door. You can see how tired she is by the look in her eyes. You had rehearsed what you were going to say over and over but that went out the window when you saw her. ‘She looks stressed.’

“A bit stressed, sweet one. There’s a matter going on that only seems to get worse.” She hands you one of the mugs in her hand and lets out a sigh. You take a sip from your drink as she sits down before nervously fidgeting with your cup.

“Does that have to do with what I’ve overheard the Enforcers talking about?” You place your mug down and look at her, “They’ve been speaking horribly about people in the Undercity. Mike even said a word I’m not allowed to repeat.”

“Yes.” Grayson admits, “There is nothing wrong with the Undercity… not in the way the people around you would have you believe. I taught you about the way people in other countries live, but I haven’t told you about your own home yet. There’s a reason I became sheriff, sweet one and this is it.”

“So… Piltover and Zaun have an issue, too.” You sigh dejectedly. You had hoped there were no issues between your two cities. Your mother nor your father had mentioned anything about it. Neither had your tutors or any of the workers around the manor. You thought you’d hear something about it even if it was in passing. With your tendency to be invisible to your mother, you thought she’d slip at some point. Yet, no one did. Not until the Enforcers, at least.

“We have more than an issue.” Grayson beckons you over and you sit on her leg, “Zaun is a heavily polluted place with poor living conditions. Its people are sick and hungry and earning just enough money to see another day.” You gasp and Grayson nods grimly.

“Are we doing anything to help?” You worriedly clasp your hands together.

“…No. I’ve tried to get programs set up to offer aid, but I’ve been denied.” Grayson sighs heavily, “I took this job because it gives me direct contact with their people. I’ve been trying to help secretly for now, but if my deal goes right, then we’ll be able to do it in the open.”

“You’ve been denied… which means that it was the council that denied you.” You point out, “Mother hasn’t said anything about it, which means it's something she doesn’t want my sister or me to know about.”

“Your mother wouldn’t want you to know about issues like this. She doesn’t want either of you to know about issues in the world. If she had her way, you would have never left the manor.” Grayson shakes her head.

“Unlike Caitlyn.” You frown, “She goes to Upper Prep Middle School and gets to visit friends when she’s not taking lessons. When you took me on sabbatical with you… that was the first time I’ve left the manor.”

“Which is one of the reasons why I took you. It’s not right to have you stuck inside with no one.” Grayson comforts you, “Now, this issue is that I went on break and everything went to shit. I thought things would be okay, but I underestimated the growing egos in Piltover. Since I came back, I’ve been working harder to find a way to get through this.” She curses and that upsets you more. ‘Mama doesn’t like cursing around me. She’s really hurting.’ You wrap your arms around her, hoping to bring her some comfort.

“You’ll figure it out. I know you will.” You encourage her, “You have time, and when you do, we can go back to the monastery and show them my progress.”

“I hope so, sweet one. I really hope so.” Grayson holds you close to her, “If they’re not… this could change a lot between our cities. And then I’ll really have to protect you from your mother.”

#sevika x reader #sevika x y/n #sevika arcane #grayson & reader #grayson arcane #grayson's true prodigy #fairy reader

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bylertruther · 2 years

Text

random will-centric headcanons: he knows how to make sugar cookies from scratch!

jonathan got the recipe from joyce. she worked a lot so he was the one that would always make them. will insisted on helping, but that always made such a big mess and produced such uneven cookies that jonathan eventually learned to let him help only by sprinkling the dyed sugar on top afterward, which was good enough for will lol.

it's a super simple recipe, so will learns it really quickly.

he and mike have made them a handful of times in the dead of night during sleepovers. they're trying their hardest to be quiet, shushing each other and giggling like the little rascals that they are. will insists that he take care of the flour despite mike telling him he can do it, which of course leads to will dropping or knocking over the sack and generally making a mess. mike tries to wipe some off of will's cheek and just makes it worse so will retaliates by booping some onto mike's nose and so on n so forth. they wrap themselves in blankets, huddled together on the couch afterward, and eat one-too-many before trudging off to bed. it gives them a tummy ache, but the giggles n sugar were worth it. mike takes some home after in a brown paper bag that will decorated for him.

will teaches el how to make them in lenora! it's in the beginning, when they're both grieving and trying to get to know each other, all while adjusting to a new environment. it's late, they have nothing to do, and el says she's craving something sweet. they have no waffles, will's pancakes are atrocious, and they already ate all the ice cream. thus, it's sugar cookie time. he writes down the ingredients and when they get to it, el takes to baking rather naturally. she's more precise than will is, more uniform and careful. they don't have anything to decorate or top them with, but he vows to mention something to mom for when she goes grocery shopping. they eat some together, thank each other for their company, and go to bed later that night feeling like something between them just changed for the better.

when he's older and living with mike, he finds himself making them sometimes when he feels especially homesick. he knows he could always call any of them and they'd pick up and talk his ear off, but sometimes... that just feels like too much. he knows that if his mom asks him how he is a second time, he'll just burst open and it'll all come pouring out. so.. he turns to the pantry and starts getting out the ingredients. he's better at this now. he likes making them into cool shapes. he could probably whip up some kind of icing to really decorate if he wanted to, but he just wants something sweet, warm, and soft to make him feel better. it doesn't have to be pretty—nothing in his life or about his home ever was—it just has to be made with love. mike comes home to their apartment smelling of sugar and vanilla and immediately knows why. he has one, then two, and eventually will has to put them away or else mike won't have any room left for dinner lmao. mike calls joyce later that evening for a quick chat and fills will in on the "hot goss" that is never actually hot (thank god).

will also learns to decorate and shape the cookies into whatever he feels like, mostly star wars characters / objects or whatever fits the season.

he becomes a more graceful baker as he gets older lol, but mike still watches him and the flour out of the corner of his eye 👀. (which will HATES because THAT WAS LITERALLY ONE TIMEEEEEE WE WERE TWELVE AND IT WAS DARK AND I WOULDN'T HAVE KNOCKED IT OVER IF YOU'D JUST GIVEN ME SPACEEEEEE) (to which mike goes hey. 🤨 bc he doesn't quite like the implication that he has always been this clingy thank u) (and ofc will just gives him the most unimpressed look Ever bc please be serious, michael. please be fucking serious rn)

#AND.... not everyone likes kid / family headcanons but i know that he n mike would make them with their tater tot too if they have one :^)#mine #will hc #hc #will #also i picked sugar cookies bc they have the most basic simple ingredients ever and realistically considering how broke they are it #feels like a treat that to ppl like mike or lucas for example it's like Ok Cool A Cookie but for /them/ it's like whoa ... a Treat ! Woo!!!#smth to cheer them up when lonnie is being mean and their parents r fighting a lot and it gives them smth else to focus on while jamming ou #in jonathan's room etc etc.

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dimepdf · 2 years

Text

❝ LOVERS WHO HESITATE ❞ | two — andrew!peter parker

summary | Peter was shocked to see you, or at least someone who looked like you, after being thrown into a different splitting multiverse that wasn't his. Having to push aside his emotional attachment and deal with the trauma he hasn't dealt with since the traumatic day you were taken from him.

pairing: peter parker x black!malereader

genre: angst, strangers to lovers, tooth rotting fluff

length: 1.7k words

cw: NWH SPOILERS!! strong language, graphic depictions of violence, bisexual peter parker, reader is TALL, andrew!peter getting the closure he deserves

song(s) to listen to: for lovers who hesitate by JANNABI

a/n | Thank all the poc marvel fans really coming through and showing support.

m.list / nav. / kofi. / discord.

part one | part two | final — coming soon

It took some time to realize that you wouldn't be able to rely on Ned's new power to seize your realities, Peter Parker, having stood two suited men who claimed to be named Peter Parker rightfully in their realities.

The group had managed to track down your rightful Peter Parker, overcoming his emotions. As Ned, MJ, and you huddled him in a group hug, he burst into tears.

You'd heard what had happened at Happy's apartment earlier, and knowing that attempting to steal the box containing the spell wasn't the best option, you fought Peter to at least tag along with him in the group of supervillains from various multiverses.

Of course, Peter had managed to sweet talk you into staying with MJ and Ned convincing that you would be their “extra protection” putting the thought inside your mind that something might go wrong while the spell was in their hold.

Hearing the heartbreaking news about May brought you to tears; the woman raised you and Peter together, and you remember the many times you spent together as a child when your parents were going through a difficult divorce and you couldn't spend much time at home without hearing them argue.

May welcomed you into her household with open arms after noticing that your sleepover bags were becoming less full and the clothes on your back were becoming more worn down.

Before she worked out the deal that changed your life for the better, your mother handed full custody of you over to May, your charismatic and comedic personality seemed to dim.

Naturally, adjusting to a new environment and realizing that your parents had given up took some time. Living with May and Peter, on the other hand, was the best decision your parents could have made for your mental wellbeing.

Since then, you've looked up to the woman you consider your mother because she has worked tirelessly for you and Peter every day.

"I’m so sorry Peter." You sniffed, unable to fight back tears as your arms wrapped around everyone, bringing them closer together as they all took a moment to mourn Aunt May's death.

It was a heartbreaking conversation, having to force the twisted idea that May's death wasn't accidental or Peter's fault. However, you heaved as you noticed your friend's eyes were filled with pure rage.

Even if you had lived with the man in front of you for the majority of your life, you would never have suspected the level of rage Peter harbored toward the man who had murdered May.

You could tell he was filled with vengeance and frustration, directed not only at the man who had murdered May, but also at himself for putting her in such a dangerous situation.

“I lost my MJ, I wasn’t fast enough to save him.” As the taller Peter's glistening eyes caught yours, you couldn't help but turn away from his gaze. It didn't take long to realize why that man was so interested in you when he first walked into the portal that connected your realities.

Realizing that you were his MJ in his timeline, you didn't have the energy to even joke about the fact that the guy you'd shared a bed with since kindergarten was considered your soulmate in another multiverse. “I became bitter and stopped pulling my punches. I became full of rage.”

The revelation that you were Peter's tall MJ in his timeline came as a bit of a shock, given that you and other Peter had been stealing glimpses since the moment on the rooftop.

He appeared to be too afraid to get close to you, managing to keep the greatest distance between you and the others as they worked on cures to fix the villains from their timeline in their own little area.

You weren't much of a scientist, having paid your Peter with bribes and clean laundry for most of your high school days just so he could copy your handwriting and finish your math homework.

You certainly felt out of place as you watched everyone pitch in to help in any way they could. The best you could hope for was to stay out of everyone's way and look pretty.

“Dude, just go talk to him already.” Ned sighed as he watched you attempting to balance a pencil on your top lip, catching it as it bounced off your chest, giving Ned a puzzled look before returning to the activity, hovering the pencil over your lip once more.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Ned, and even if I did, it would be a bad idea. I'm better off just staying out of everyone's way.”

Ned's frantic typing came to a halt as he turned to you, his face etched with pondering as you refused to give in to his attention. “I think it’s a good idea or at least something that you can literally only do once. I mean how many times do you meet your best friend from another multiverse that just so happens to also be your soulmate, well yours from another timeline. I believe you should make an effort to provide him some type of closure.”

You tried to pretend to be indifferent throughout Ned's speech by frowning and tilting your head down to glare at him, sighing as you pushed the wheeled office chair loudly towards the other Peter, giving that annoyed look that said "I hate that you're right."

As you rolled past the older looking Peter, his head tilting slightly up to look at you as you passed by his occupied lab table, giving him a nod, you continued towards the Peter you were sent to talk to.

The sound of the chair scraping against the floor seeming like a time bomb as you got closer to him, counting the second in his head before you pulled up against him..

"So..." you sighed as you felt your eyes follow whatever he was occupying his fingers with.

"Is there a universe where Peter Parker isn't some super-smart hot white guy or does that have to be a must thing?" Your joke seemed to relieve some of the tension in the room, as you watched the other Peter work on Connor's cure while holding back a grin.

You couldn't help but look up at the man, almost as if you were a toddler watching their parents for the first time do something.

Maybe it was the chiseled jawline or the fact that he bit his lower lip when he was thinking, but the slender brunette had you completely smitten. When he cleared his throat and returned the same dumb smitten look you were giving him, you caught yourself.

“I’m pretty okay when it comes to all of this. Not the best but also not the worst either.” You snorted in disbelief at his nervous self-conscious response, which stood in stark contrast to his seemingly cocky and open personality.

You found it almost endearing how he came across as the "tall and dreamy" type when in reality he was constantly nervous but was good at masking it with his wit. Peter could tell you could see right through him, that you could read him like a book even in his timeline.

"Most of the time, I have no idea what's going on; I'm pretty sure they just keep me around as extra muscle against bad guys." The remark reflected how you felt when you were with your group of friends; yes, Peter was a superhuman with supernatural abilities, but Ned and MJ were the smartest and most talented kids you'd ever met.

They'd always bring offers to the table and help when it came to assisting Peter's missions, while you'd always seemed to be the backup. Like the person they would always call as a last resort for hard labor or when they needed someone that had connections.

"Well, I'll have you know that you saved my ass a lot of times; I don't think I'd be alive if you didn't constantly remind me how wrong I was and how you were never wrong about anything."

You were both laughing now, content in the knowledge that the other of you were somewhere, nagging the other Peter the same way you were nagging your current one.

“What was I to you in your timeline by the way” As he swallowed the nervous lump in his throat and finally met eyes with you from the moment on the roof, there it was, the question the other Peter was dreading you to ask.

After exchanging a sad smile, Peter finally gave in to your request for information, turning his head to watch MJ and the original Peter share a moment together.

“You were my best friend and the only person who seemed to care about how I was feeling. I despised it when you would drop everything you were doing to come clean up my fuckups.”

As you placed a hand on his arm, he felt the sensation of shooting sparks up from the touch.

Deciding at that moment he didn't care if he was being selfish at the time, he just wanted to be as close to you as possible to soak up as much of the moment of seeing you as possible.

"We were more than friends, but you worked hard to please others, always afraid of what others would say about me, but you didn't care about your safety, you were just stubborn like that"

Recalling the fight you and him had when your parents found out about the type of relationship you two were having.

"I felt like shit knowing that you gave up so much just to be with me, and your parents weren't as supportive as you thought they would be." While the smile on his lips faded, you reached out with a soothing touch, sending shivers up Peter's spine as he felt the warm touch of your large hand resting on his shoulder.

His mind was flitting around, trying to settle on something, but it was difficult for him to suddenly sit and stare you in the eyes.

As he reached out for your hand, he didn't bother to hide the trembling in his palms. He intertwined his fingers in yours and held your hand as if it were made of glass. “I’m sorry if this is being selfish, but I want to kiss you really bad right now.”

notes: Dude, the black Marvel fans are coming out of the woodworks. Thank you so much for the recent support on the last upload. Being able to write for a fandom that I’m really passionate about really just feels comfortable. Being able to write for black male readers knowing that there are people like me scraping the bottom of the bowl just to find fanfic that is inclusive for people that look like me brings a smile to my face.

— taglist: @tsukishimawhore @meowkinq @denkisdurag @lolalora

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americasass91 · 3 years

Text

The Shield and the Sweater

Hello lovelies! This little fic came to me when the lovely, beautiful, talented @stargazingfangirl18 asked a very important question on her blog. Would you rather be enemies to lovers with Steve Rogers or friends with benefits with Ransom Drysdale. Well my greedy ass wanted both. Thus the birth of this story. I also turned it around a little to make it fit into Siri’s 5k Soft Dark Challenge! I’ve never written anything dark before. Also not sure if this classifies as soft!dark or if it’s more dark. But it’s one of those! If that makes you uncomfortable, then please don’t read it. This is also my first time writing a threesome, so let me know if it sucks! I hope you enjoy it! 😘

General prompts:

8)The town golden boy isn’t as sweet as everyone thinks.

Dialogue prompts:

3)”Oh, honey, you weren’t supposed to see that.”

11)”I’ve waited a long time for this, sweetheart.”

Rating: Explicit(if you’re under 18, please leave)

Words: 6.2k(this one got away from me, sorry)

Warnings: soft!dark/dark themes, unprotected sex, anal sex, vaginal sex, threesome(M/M/F), manipulation, language, model!Ransom being an asshole, Steve not being who you think he is

“And I really think if everyone pitches in to make these changes, it’ll really make a difference in the long run.”

Wow, so this is how you were going to die. In your whole 20 something years of existence, you never thought boredom would be your cause of death.

Sure, you were the lead Accountant at Stark Tower and these monthly meetings were mandatory. But did you really have to be here to listen to Rogers go on and on about how we can ‘improve our working environment’? Why did he even care anyway? He was barely ever here as it is.

You must have been zoning out worse than you thought because next thing you know your coworker, Janet, is poking you in the side and pointing towards Steve.

With a quick glare sent her way, you move your gaze to the Captain. He is giving you the same look he always does. Like he’s disgusted with you. “I’m sorry Miss Y/L/N. Am I boring you?”

A scoff escapes your mouth. “No, not at all Captain Rogers. I just love when people who are never here seem to always have an opinion on how things are run and how they could be better.”

He narrows his eyes at you. “Do you have a problem with me, Y/N? Cause if you do, I’m sure there’s a way to solve that.”

You stand up and match his expression. You lean forward with your hands resting on the table. You can’t help but notice the Captain drops his gaze to your cleavage that’s now on more display than before. But just as quick as it was there, his gaze rises back up to meet your face. “Is that a threat, Captain Rogers?”

“Oh, it’s more than a-“

Tony quickly stands up and claps his hands together. “Okay! Meeting adjourned! You two, come here!”

You quickly straighten yourself up and make your way over to Tony. You always try to make sure you show him as much respect as you can. He’s your boss after all.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Stark. My emotions got the better of me. It won’t happen again.”

He nods to you. “Thank you, Y/N. I accept your apology. But what I’m not understanding is why Steve here wanted to fire you?”

You both turn to look at Steve who has a sheepish expression on his face. “Yeah, sorry about that, Tony. She just seems to bring out this ugly side of me. I’ll try to keep it more contained next time.” He then moves his gaze to you. “Sorry, Y/N. I promise to be more professional moving forward.”

He makes a quick exit, leaving you shocked that he apologized at all. Ever since you started here almost a year ago now, you’ve been at each other’s throats. It was your fault really.

It was your first week and you were in the break room grabbing some coffee when you overheard a few of your coworkers making fun of Steve for being a virgin. Now, you weren’t sure if it was true but you wanted to fit in so you made your way over to the group and asked if anyone calls him Captain Virgin. That earned you some big laughs. But the laughter died down quickly as Steve entered the room to grab some coffee. Judging by the glare he gave you, he heard what you had called him.

You went straight to Tony after that to apologize. You really didn’t want to get fired. But you wanted to make sure Tony heard the story from you before Steve got the chance to talk to him. To your utter surprise, Tony found the name hilarious and gave you a high five, saying you were going to fit right in.

Well long story short, it’s almost a year later and Steve is still getting called Captain Virgin. Oh but don’t worry, he has names of his own for you. His favorite is Tony’s Pet. For some reason, it really eats at you when he calls you that.

But the one thing you hate the most about Steve?

Is how utterly, hopelessly, and desperately attracted you are to the son of a bitch.

That happened in your second week when you went to use the complimentary gym and saw him beating the shit out of some poor punching bag. Your panties and your workout were definitely ruined after that.

The more you fought with Steve, the more you just wanted him to bend you over any surface and have his way with you.

It was despicable how horny you were for him. You were pretty sure all he’d have to do is snap his fingers and point to the floor in front of him and you’d happily drop to your knees and take him down your throat.

So that left you leaving work every day in a horny state. You started by taking care of it yourself when you got home. But after a while even that wasn’t cutting it. Then you started bringing home one night stands. But after the 4th disappointing non-orgasm, you gave up and just learned to live with it.

Sure, you could attempt to start being nice to Steve and maybe ask him out. But you were pretty sure he hated you. Plus you have way too much pride to actually do that.

So that leads to now. It’s Friday night and your workday is almost over. You’re inputting the last few numbers from the last expense report in your pile.

You get the last number put in when Janet approaches you. She sits on the corner of your desk. “So, you coming tonight?”

You take your glasses off and lean back in your chair, stretching your arms over your head. “Coming where?”

She rolls her eyes at you. “Oh, come on Y/N! You know we go out almost every Friday night. You never come and you always say you will!”

You start to clear off your desk and put things back in their place. “Yeah well I could. Or I could go home and sit on my ass and do nothing.”

“Well, that explains why it’s looking a bit bigger lately.”

Janet’s jaw drops as she directs her gaze at Steve, who is now standing in front of your desk.

You smirk and lean on your elbows towards him. “You like looking at my ass, Rogers?”

He scoffs. “Well when it takes up that much space, it’s hard not to notice. But here, I came to give you this.”

He hands you what looks to be a 10 page expense report. “Sorry it’s late, I’ve been busy, you know. Saving the world.”

You ungraciously take it from him and throw it in your to-do pile. “That can wait until Monday. I’ve got plans. We’re going to-” you look towards Janet for clarification. “Lavo.” You turn your gaze back to Steve. “Yeah, we’re going to Lavo. So this will wait til Monday if that’s okay with you, sir.”

Steve does his best to move his bag and jacket subtly towards the front of his pants so you won’t notice his growing hard-on. He hates how turned on he gets when you guys get into it. And then you call him sir? Jesus. He clears his throat. “Of course, I'm the one who turned it in at the last minute.”

Janet speaks up quickly. “You could always come with us! It’ll be fun!”

You grin widely at him. “Yeah! You could finally get your cherry popped, Captain Virgin.”

Steve can’t help the blush that covers his cheeks. “Uh, I can assure you my cherry has been popped since the 40’s. But thank you for your concern. And thank you for the invite, Janet. But i think I’ll stay in tonight.” He takes out his phone and sends a quick text before turning around and walking towards the elevators.

Wow. He didn’t even try to retaliate. You shrug your shoulders and grab your purse before standing up. “Alright, I’ll go! But on one condition!”

Janet claps her hands in excitement and starts walking with you towards the elevators. “Sure, anything!”

You press the button for the lobby. “You are going to be my wingwoman. Cause this girl definitely needs to get laid.”

😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈

Lavo is super packed by the time you guys arrive. Of course you all had to go home and change.

You decided to go with a simple, yet effective, little black dress that showed off just enough to get men’s attention.

Thankfully you are able to score the last table. The waiter comes over and gets everyone’s drink order. You decide to stick with your favorite. You don’t want to get too drunk on the off chance you find someone to take home.

About a half hour into hot office gossip, Lucy, who is sitting across from you, taps your arm. You raise your eyebrows in question towards her.

She subtly nods her head towards the bar. “Okay I’m pretty sure the hottest guy I have ever seen is checking you out.”

You can’t help the smirk that crosses your face. “Yeah? Which one?”

“You can’t miss him. He’s fucking hot. Like no comparison to any of the other dudes sitting up there.”

You glance down at your drink and quickly finish the remainder. You stand up and adjust your dress, pushing up your breasts in the process. “Well, then I guess it’s time for a refill.” You wink and turn to make your way towards the bar.

It doesn’t take long for you to spot him. And boy was Lucy not kidding. He was fucking hot. Brown hair, blue eyes, and a smug smirk that would normally turn you off. But on him it worked. And who even looks that good in a fucking cream colored cable knit?

You go up to the bar, not too close to Mr. Hottie of course, and patiently wait for the bartender.

Hottie McHothot not so subtly moves his gaze up and down your body. He must like what he sees. “Hey honey, have you ever raised chickens?”

Uh. That’s definitely not the first thing you expected to come out of his mouth. You look over at him with confusion on your face. “Uh, no. Why do you ask?”

He just shrugs his shoulders. “Just kinda figured you might. Cause you sure can raise a cock.”

Okay, you’ve definitely never heard that line before. You crack up. You’re pretty sure you even snorted on accident. Once you collect yourself you ask, “Has that line ever worked for you?”

The bartender makes his way over to take your order. After reordering what you had before, you turn towards Hottie and wait for his answer.

“Not sure, my buddy told it to me yesterday so this is the first time I’m using it. Did it work?”

You shrug your shoulders. “I don’t know. It was pretty cheesy.”

“Yeah, maybe. But it got you to laugh. So I’d say mission accomplished. Name’s Ransom. What’s yours, pretty girl?” He holds out his hand for you to shake.

Ransom. Now where have you heard that name before? You accept his hand shake. You can’t help but notice how much bigger his hands are than yours. Jesus. You could already feel your panties getting wet.

“My name’s Y/N. Ransom, that sounds familiar. Do I know you?”

He releases your hand and goes to take a sip of his bourbon. “Well, I guess that depends. Do you read magazines or have you seen the side of the city bus lately?”

You quickly wrack your brain. You don’t read many magazines. But the bus drives by you everyday on your walk to work. Holy shit! That’s it! He’s in his underwear on the side of the bus. You’ve drooled over that picture plenty of times.

“Oh, yeah! I remember now! I’ve seen you on the bus! What’s it an ad for? I can never really get past the almost naked man. A bit distracting on my way to work.”

He smirks as he briefly glances down at your breasts. “I’m glad you know my work. It’s an ad for Calvin Klein. For their new line of men’s briefs. Sorry I’ve been a distraction.” He sends you a wink.

Fuck. He was a model. And a popular one at that if he’s in an ad for Calvin Klein.

“I didn’t say I minded. You can make it up to me you know.” You wink back. Holy shit. Were you really flirting with a model?

“Yeah? Well, how about we get out of here and I’ll show you a fully naked man.”

Okay. Cheesy line number 2. Was that really going to work on you?

Yes.

Yes it was.

“Let me just go grab my purse.”

Drink forgotten, you go back to your table as quickly as you can without looking desperate. “Sorry, girls. But this is where I leave you.”

Janet glances down at her phone. “We haven’t even been here an hour yet! Where are you going?”

You send her a wink. “I’m leaving with that guy! You guys know him! Remember that ad on the side of the bus?”

They all turn their gaze to him. And they all make it very obvious. He just waves and sends them a smirk.

“Holy fucking shit! That’s the new Calvin Klein guy! Oh my god you lucky bitch!”

“Wait! Listen. We’ll let you go on one condition.”

You furrow your brows in confusion. “Okay?”

Janet gives you a naughty smirk. “On Monday I’ll need a report on if they had to stuff his briefs to get that delicious looking bulge or not.”

You give her a naughty smirk of your own. “I can totally do that.”

😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈

Monday morning you were all smiles as you stepped off the elevator and headed towards your desk. You give Janet a wink as you pass by her. She quickly makes her way over just as you sit down. “Um, excuse me hoe. But is that the same dress you were wearing Friday night?”

You quickly grab the cardigan you always keep in your desk out and put it on and button it up, attempting to look a little more professional. “Maybe.”

Janet opens her mouth in shock. “You stayed the whole weekend with him? You little slut! How was it?”

You turn on your computer and grab for the expense report of Steve’s you left in your to-do pile. Then you turn towards your nosy coworker. “Well, if you must know, yes. I did stay the whole weekend with him. And I’m pretty sure I was in an orgasm-induced coma the whole time. It’s all kind of a rough, sticky, mind-blowing blur.”

“Are you going to see him again?”

You shrug your shoulders as you put in your login information on the computer. “I haven’t decided yet. While the sex was the best I’ve ever had, he’s kind of an ass. Talked about himself and all the famous people he’s hooked up with since becoming a model. I honestly kept initiating sex just to make him shut up.”

She gives you a look like you’re stupid. “I’m not seeing the issue here. So what if he talks about himself a lot? The sex was amazing. You need to lock that down girl.”

You roll your eyes at her. “That’s the thing, Janet. He doesn’t do relationships. He told me so multiple times. Plus I’m pretty sure he was texting another chick in between our ‘sessions’. I suppose if I’m desperate, I’ll get a hold of him.”

“You know you could always just have him on backup for sex. Like a friends with benefits situation.”

“Janet, I’m in my late 20s. I’m too old for that kind of relationship.”

“Exactly, you’re in your late 20s! This is the perfect time for that kind of relationship before you settle down and get married! Have one last final hoorah!”

“I can’t have this conversation before caffeine. I’m going to get coffee. You act like I’m dying soon or something.” You turn to walk away but then remember you were supposed to tell her something. “Oh yeah and by the way. The bulge is definitely not stuffed.”

You give her a wink and then head to the break room for some much needed coffee. When you see who’s in there, you almost contemplate going downstairs to a different break room.

Steve is standing at the counter, preparing his coffee. He turns when he hears you come in and gives you a once over. “Well, look what the cat dragged in.”

You grab a mug out of the cabinet beside him. “Sorry my appearance isn’t up to your standards today, Rogers. I was a little...busy this weekend.”

He takes a sip of his coffee to make sure it’s right. Then he moves out of your way so you can get to the coffee, but still staying close. “Busy getting run over by a truck? Cause that’s kind of what you look like.”

You pour yourself a generous amount of coffee and take a long sip, letting the bitter liquid slowly make you human. “Yeah, well. I was busy getting fucked all weekend, Rogers. But I know your little innocent mind wouldn’t know what that’s like.”

That wipes the stupid little smirk right off his face. He almost looks pissed. He moves even closer to you. Almost pressing himself right up against you. So close that you can smell his coffee-scented breath. If you were wearing panties, they’d be ruined.

“Not all of us feel the need to sleep around. Some of us are looking for a real connection. Not just a one night stand of meaningless, mediocre sex.”

You press yourself just a little closer to him, his chest now touching yours. “Oh, it was anything but mediocre. Maybe if you actually got some, you’d know what that feels like.”

He leans his head down until his mouth is next to your ear, his left hand now resting on your hip. “You really need to stop insinuating that I’m a virgin sweetheart. If you were nicer to me, I’d show you that I know how to fuck.” With that he backs up and heads out of the break room.

You let out the breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. Jesus Christ. You swear you almost came.

And if you were nicer to him? Fuck him. He’s not nice to you either. That’s okay. You have someone who can scratch this itch.

You pull out your phone and send a quick text.

To: Fuckboi

You busy tonight? I could really use a release.

The reply came almost immediately.

From: Fuckboi

Didn’t get enough of my cock this weekend huh? I suppose I could make myself available.

You roll your eyes and quickly reply with your address and what time to be over.

The rest of the day passes by slowly. It takes you half the day to enter Steve’s expense report. God he’s descriptive. At least it’s completed. You can’t really say that much for the other Avengers. They usually half assed them and made them barely acceptable.

You are shutting down for the day when Steve approaches your desk. You remove your glasses and look at him expectantly. “Is there something I can help you with, Steve?”

A blush creeps it’s way across his cheeks. “Um, I was actually just wondering if you had time to go over the new expense report forms? They should be a lot easier to fill out.”

You glance down at the clock on your computer. Ransom is going to be at your place in about 20 minutes.“Can we do it tomorrow? I have company that’ll be showing up at my apartment in like 20 minutes.”

His hopeful smile falls. His face is now unreadable. “Would your company happen to be whoever you spent the weekend with?”

Confused, you grab for your purse after getting your computer shut down. “Actually, yes. Should I have asked your permission first?” You attempt a joke to ease the sudden tension.

He pulls out his phone and starts typing furiously. Wow. You weren’t aware he knew how to text. You hear it ping with a reply before he angrily puts it back in his pocket. “Sure, we can do this tomorrow. Wouldn’t want to get in the way of your whoreing around.”

Your jaw drops in surprise. Sure you guys were always throwing jabs at each other. But he’d never said anything like this before. And in such a mean tone.

You round your desk and stand right in front of him. “Fuck you, Steve.”

You hurry towards the elevators before he can see the tears that have welled up. You couldn’t let him know he had that power over you. Asshole. Thank god Ransom was coming over. Hopefully he could fuck what Steve just said right out of your head.

😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈

You’ve lost count of how many orgasms Ransom has pulled from you with his mouth when there’s a knock on your door.

Ransom looks up at you from his kneeling position on your living room floor. “Did you invite someone else to join us, pretty girl?”

You scoff and push him away so you can stand up. You pull your dress down as you make your way towards the door. “Yeah. I can barely handle just you. I’m pretty sure if we added someone else, I’d actually die.”

You open the door and gasp in surprise. “Steve? What are you doing here?”

He rubs the back of his neck nervously. “Look, I know you probably already have company but I felt really bad about what I said to you earlier today and wanted to apologize.”

You have so many questions. “How did you know where I lived?”

That sheepish smile makes its appearance again. “I may or may not have looked in your employee file.”

You shake your head. “And you felt the need to come all the way here and apologize? Why not just text me?”

“It would only have felt right to me to do it in person. I really am sor-”

You feel a pair of arms wrap around you from behind. “Well, who do we have here? Why is Captain America at your door?”

You turn your head to address Ransom. “He just came by to apologize to me. I think he was just leaving.”

Steve has a disappointed look on his face. “Yeah, I suppose I was.”

“Awe, what a shame. I thought you were gonna ask him to join us, pretty girl.”

Steve’s eyes grow wide at the thought. You quickly speak up. “No, I don’t think he’d be comfortable with that. He’s a little old fashioned.” You give him a sincere smile. You didn't think that was a bad thing.

Steve looks back towards the elevators and then back to you. He clears his throat. “What if I wanted to join you?” Seeing your wide eyed look, he quickly adds, “Only if Y/N would be comfortable with that of course.”

You contemplate what the consequences could be in your head. But then you get distracted when Ransom starts grinding his hard on against your ass. “Come on, pretty girl. Make a decision.”

The next word comes out of your mouth faster than what your brain can process. “Okay.”

😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈

Now you were standing awkwardly in your bedroom with Steve and Ransom looking at you expectantly.

You’ve never done this before so you’re not sure how this is supposed to go. “So, um. How do we start exactly?”

Ransom smirks and comes up behind you. “I think you should call the shots, pretty girl. If you’re okay with that, Steve?”

With the mention of his name, he walks towards you and places his hands on your hips. “I think that’s a great idea. Can I kiss you now?” He places his hand under your chin and raises your face up to meet his. “I’ve waited a long time for this, sweetheart.” With that, his lips meet yours. It’s explosive. You quickly wrap your hands around his neck and press yourself up against him.

You get so lost in the kiss, you forget that Ransom is there. That is until he presses his lips against your neck and presses himself against your ass. It presses you even further against Steve, making you feel his excitement against your lower belly.

You’re so overwhelmed already and you’d barely started. You may not survive this evening.

As you move your hands down to remove Steve’s shirt, Ransom is unzipping your dress, pressing kisses to every inch of exposed skin.

Without breaking the kiss, Steve moves his hands around to unhook your bra so he can get his hands on your breasts. He pinches your nipples, causing you to moan into his mouth. He moves his lips to your neck, sucking on your pulse point.

After successfully removing your dress, Ransom stands back up and turns your head to connect your lips. He starts rutting his clothed hard on against your naked ass. His left hand reaches around to bat one of Steve’s away so he can squeeze your breast.

Steve takes the hand that had been swatted away and moves it down to your soaking wet core. He starts lightly circling your clit. Just enough pressure to make you mewl.

You reach behind you with your left hand and tug at the waistband of Ransom’s briefs. “Off.” You moan out as you take your right hand and start attempting to take off Steve’s jeans. He smirks into your neck and helps you out. He barely gets them unbuttoned and unzipped before you’re reaching your hand into them and his boxers to grab his cock. It feels big.

Ransom grabs your left hand and places it on his now free cock. You wrap your hand around it and give it a squeeze before you start pumping your hand up and down. You do the same to Steve’s, making the both of them let out grunts against both sides of your neck. Steve increases the pressure on your clit a little. Still not enough.

“Nee-need, you. Please.” You weakly moan out. Ransom moves his mouth up to your ear. “How do you want us, pretty girl?”

You reluctantly pull away from both of them so you can think. You decide to be greedy. You point to Steve. “I want you to lay on the bed, please.”

He does as you ask. Putting his hands behind his head as he awaits further instructions.

You get on the bed and straddle him. You turn around and reach your arm out for Ransom. “Want you behind me.” You lean over and open your bedside drawer to grab the lube and toss it at Ransom. He smirks as he straddles Steve’s legs and gets behind you. He uncaps the lube and starts coating his cock with a generous amount. “Need my cock in that ass, pretty girl?”

You hold up your hand. “Wait.” You lean down towards Steve and give him a quick kiss. “Are you okay with this?”

He nods his head. “As long as you are.” You raise back up and smile at him. You turn your head and look at Ransom. “I’m assuming you're okay with this?”

He just smirks and squeezes some lube out so that it slides down the crack of your ass. “More than okay, pretty girl. Need me to stretch you out first?”

You smirk and pull him in for a quick, filthy kiss. “I think it got plenty stretched out this weekend.”

He matches your smirk. “You little slut. Wanting both of our cocks stuffing you full.”

You whimper as he lands a smack on your ass. Leaning up on your knees, you grab a hold of Steve’s cock and start running his tip up and down your folds. He places his left hand on your right hip and his right hand on your left thigh. “Condom?”

You quickly shake your head and pause your actions. “On the pill. Unless of course you’d be more comfortable with one.”

He shakes his head. “No, just making sure.”

You turn back to Ransom. “I’ll let you know when I’m ready for you.”

He nods and places his hands on your shoulders, waiting somewhat patiently.

You slowly sink down on Steve’s cock. He’s stretching you out so deliciously. It burns in just the right way. Ransom may be longer, but Steve is definitely thicker.

After you get fully seated on him, you take a minute to adjust. It only takes a few seconds. You turn your head towards Ransom. “Okay, I’m ready.”

He removes his right hand from your shoulder and grabs the base of his cock and starts pressing against the tight ring of muscle. He’d been in there a lot over the weekend. But it was still a tight fit regardless. He doesn’t go as slow and sheaths himself to the hilt, causing you to moan out in slight pain and pleasure.

Holy fuck. You feel so full. You think you might die. That is until Ransom removes his cock until just the tip remains and then forcefully thrust back in, causing you to grind on Steve’s dick.

Steve grunts out from the movement and starts thrusting up into you the best he can from his position. Ransom wraps his left arm around you and continues his thrusts, not letting up his pace. You don’t even really have to move, the both of them doing it for you. They somehow find the perfect rhythm. Each of them pulling out and pushing in at the same time. One of your hands is behind you, resting on the back of Ransom’s head while the other is resting on Steve’s chest.

Steve sits up suddenly and pulls you in for a kiss. “Like being stuffed with both of our cocks, pretty girl?” You hear from behind you. “Yes. So good. So full. Gonna cum.”

Ransom removes his arm from around you and reaches down and starts circling your clit. “Do it. Cum all over us. Make a mess.”

Steve can feel you squeezing him. “Please, sweetheart. Need to feel you cum on my cock. You’re gripping me so good.”

You explode. You clamp your eyes shut, seeing stars behind your eyelids. You let the both of them fuck you through it.

Ransom’s hips stutter. The fluttering around his cock is too good. He cums with a shout of your name, filling up your ass to the brim. He gives you a few more thrusts before he pulls out and collapses beside you two.

Steve’s been patient while you come down from your high. He lays back down, pulling you with him so that your chest to chest. He bends his knees and grabs onto your hips. “You ready, sweetheart?” You raise up, both of your hands on each side of his head. You give him a nod.

That’s all he needs. He starts fucking you, hard and fast, chasing his release. He can feel it building. He just needs to feel you come undone around him again. He moves one of his hands and starts circling your clit with his thumb. “Need you to cum for me again, Y/N.”

You shake your head. “Can’t. Too much.”

Ransom sits up beside you. “I know what she needs.” He reaches over with his left hand and wraps it around your throat, squeezing gently.

It makes you clench down on Steve’s cock. “Yeah? That all you needed, sweetheart? A hand wrapped around your pretty throat? I know you like it. Can feel you squeezing me.” He picks up his pace. The only sounds that can be heard are his grunts, your breathy monas, and skin slapping against skin.

It doesn’t take long for your orgasm to hit you. This one is somehow even more intense than the last.

You must’ve blacked out for a few seconds because the next thing you know, you’re waking up in between Steve and Ransom.

Steve smiles down at you. “There she is. We lost you for a second, sweetheart.”

You feel drunk. You smile goofily up at him. “Did you cum?”

Just as you ask that, you can feel his release seeping out of your overused cunt. Then you feel cum leaking out of your ass. You hide your face behind your hands in embarrassment. “I can’t believe we just did that.”

Ransom removes one hand while Steve removes the other. “Nuh uh uh. No hiding allowed, pretty girl. I have no regrets.” He looks at Steve. “Do you?”

Steve smiles down at you and leans down to press a soft kiss against your lips. “None from me. You tired, sweetheart?”

You let out a big yawn and nod your head, slowly closing your eyes. “Get some rest, pretty girl.” That’s the last thing you hear before sleep takes you.

😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈

You wake up sometime in the early morning, stretching out your sore limbs. You know you have a dumb smile on your face. But you can’t help but notice your empty bed.

You sit up and hiss at the deliciously sore feeling between your legs. You grab your robe and slip it on. You can smell coffee coming from the kitchen. You giddily make your way out of the room and down the hallway. They both barely just come into view, still unaware you’re there, when you hear Steve speak.

“I thought you were going to be an asshole to her? Make her see I’m not that bad.”

You hear Ransom next. “I was an asshole to her. I’m sorry I dicked her down so good that she wanted more.”

Steve scoffs. “I never gave you the okay to fuck her!”

“You also didn’t tell me it was off limits. Look you got what you wanted right?”

“No, actually I didn’t. I didn’t pay you so we could have a threesome together.”

What the fuck? Steve paid Ransom to help him get in your pants?

“Ok, how about this? I’ll give you all of your money back if I can fuck her one more time before I go? Then we’ll be squared away.”

Steve seems to be conflicted. “Fine! But this is the last time Ransom. I have to get to work anyway. After this, she’s mine. And make sure she’s not late for work herself.”

Before you have time to react, Steve rounds the corner and sees you standing there. He has a deer caught in headlights look. Ransom comes up beside him and sees you. “Oh, honey, you weren’t supposed to see that.”

You slowly start backing up towards your bedroom. Steve moves towards you, stopping once you put your hands up. “Stay away from me! Both of you! I want nothing to do with either of you!”

Ransom moves past Steve and grabs onto your arms. “Oh, please. You’d fuck us again if we wanted. Wouldn’t you?”

You spit in his face. “Fuck you, Hugh.”

He gets a sinister look on his face. “Wrong move, pretty girl.” He looks toward Steve. “Don’t worry, I’ll fuck the brat out of her. You better tell her boss she won’t be in today.”

Your eyes go wide at his words. You start thrashing against him, trying your best to get away. Steve has had enough. He comes over and yanks you away from him and presses you against the wall. “You better calm down, sweetheart. I’ll treat you like a princess if you can be my good girl. Can you do that?”

You shake your head. “Why would you think I’d want anything to do with you after finding out you paid someone to help get into my pants?”

He gives you an evil smirk. “Because if you don’t, I’ll just have to release the tape of last night on the internet. Let everyone see how much of a slut you actually are.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “You’re bluffing.”

He smirks and turns his head towards Ransom. “Show her.”

Ransom gets his phone out of his pocket and swipes at the screen for a second before turning it in your direction.

Holy shit. They weren’t bluffing. There you were, getting fucked by the both of them. That would ruin you if it got out. Not only would you get fired, but your parents would probably disown you. You’d never have a normal relationship again. You’re fucked. Even more than you were last night. How had you not noticed they were recording it?

Ransom must have read your mind. “I set my phone up while you were busy with Steve’s fingers on your cunt and his tongue down your throat. I think you need to ask her again Steve.”

Steve grabs your chin and moves your gaze onto his face. “I’ll ask you again. Are you going to be my good girl? Let Ransom fuck you one more time and then it’ll just be me and you?”

You drop your gaze to the floor. You feel a tear run down your cheek as you whisper out, “I’ll be your good girl.”

Taglist: @stargazingfangirl18 @drabblewithfrannybarnes @harrysthiccthighss @lllols @patzammit @quxxnxfhxll

Steve Taglist: @donutloverxo

#captain america #dark!steve rogers/reader #dark!steve rogers smut #model!ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale smut #siris5ksoftdarkchallenge #this sweater wearing menace #shield throwing daddy #steve rogers smut #steve rogers #chris evans #chris evans smut #steve rogers x reader

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shurisneakers · 3 years

Text

perceive

Summary: In which he reclaims his five senses of perception

Word count: 1k

Warnings: angst, anxiety, ptsd, mentions of death and torture, sensory overloads but also fluff

A/N: behold, i actually wrote it. try prying filter coffee from my cold dead hands but since chai is more popular, i included pakorey to compensate even though it’s tasteless and i hate it

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

He’s not usually one for soft blankets.

Hell, for the longest time he’d find comfort on the cool tiles against his skin. Fevers stealing away nights of peaceful sleep, body aching from the stress of carrying all the sins of the world on his back.

Blankets were too soft, too gentle. It worked hard at his years of pain, felt almost completely strange against his skin. Too kind. He did not deserve the kindness. The harsh cold punished him in ways his mind couldn’t and he thought that maybe, this was his redemption.

Coffee was dark, bitter, many a times lukewarm. It was hard to explain his inclination to this variation of it when there were so many more available in the free world. But things were constantly changing, there was never a rug that stayed long enough under his feet to initiate shock when it was pulled away again. And when for seventy years one of the only constants he has was this garbage, he stuck to it, hoping that it tethered him in a world that seemed like it was spinning out of control around him.

There was never any effort put into the drink. Usually grabbed off the desk from a lower ranking agent, or stale from day or two prior. Years later, coffee any other way was just too sickly sweet. Anything more than the cheap beans and water felt foreign on his tongue. Too luxurious. He doesn’t want to afford luxury, not when he took away the chance to experience it from countless others.

The only exposure he had to coffee was a quick adrenaline shot before he’s sent out to wreck havoc quietly and maybe, that’s all he should be allowed to have.

Silence was his best friend. If there was silence it meant that for a second, perhaps he could drown out the cries. Silence meant that he wouldn’t add a name to his list of redemption, it meant that his ears wouldn’t strain to hear what new serum they discussed injecting into him to improve efficiency. In the silence, it was just him.

Did he love the silence or did he love the absence of noise?

But he learned to pay attention to sounds, even when he’s out of confinement. He never felt like there was a moment where a sound is just what it claims to be. He paid attention for footsteps while leafing through books in the library, angry shouts in a crowd of squeals at a carnival, gunshots near the loud chatter of a construction site. He was always searching for more.

If he focused on one sound, he risked ignoring the rest. He would never know peace.

With the number of times his nose had been broken, you’d think that he altogether lost his sense of smell. A several thousand times he wished he had. Old gunpowder, the cement dust from falling buildings, and fuck, he thought the stench of blood was the worst but one time he unwittingly catches the fresh scent of perfume before he kills the wife of a Hydra victim waiting for her husband to return home. It sears into his brain. He can pull it from memory even years down the line and the terror from that night drags him back into a spiral.

It was an unlikely enemy. He didn’t even know how to explain it.

Days with sensory overloads were common. His home for majority of his life was in the darkness; sometimes his body existed while his mind forced itself to think of something other than the cold. He always took time to adjust when he was pulled out of the ice, blinking and adjusting an environment different from the last time he opened his eyes. Years’ worth of distinction.

His sensory attacks happened a lot more in Bucharest. At least now it’s down to about two or three a month. He remembers the newspaper clad windows and cowering under a blanket, hoping that the familiarity of darkness would stop it.

There is so much around him all the time- seasons keep changing in front of him, wild hair colours and hundreds of billboards and he thought, God, sight has to be the worst of them all.

He wore black. Constantly, everywhere. It gave him less to look at.

He just wished that everything would stop.

Years later, he’s glad it didn’t.

Things were different now.

“Penny for your thoughts?” He doesn’t need to turn around to know it’s you. He’d recognise your voice anywhere.

Bucky drags his eyes away from the lawn in front of him. There are flower pots you’ve arranged, filled with any kind of plant you find pretty. He finds himself spending hours looking at the bright pink carnations and the sunflowers he picked out. It brings a certain liveliness that he adores.

“How many pennies do you have?” Lifting up the blanket, he offers you a place under the warmth beside him.

You settle down next to him, taking him up on his offer, nudging yourself under his arm. “I’d say I have enough.”

His body is a warm security against the cool wind that the storm brings.

The smell of rain on fresh grass is intoxicating. He’s long added it to his list of favourite scents, only next to the fresh waffles from the diner downtown.

Your hand extends a cup of filter coffee towards him. A content smile grows on his face. What initially was too sweet, too sharp, now is a lingering sense of comfort. He was damn near addicted to it.

He takes it a little too eagerly.

“New sweater?” you ask, and he hums in affirmation. “Blue looks good on you.”

“Thank you.” It’s something he’s working on- accepting compliments. It won’t hurt anyone if he just accepted that some people like certain things about him, he was reminded over and over again by his therapist.

A stray droplet lands on his cheek. He closes his eyes.

He feels your fingertips wipe it away softly. He leans into you.

Your hum of an old Kishore Kumar song reverberates through you, a soft melody to accompany the rain. He simply listens, willingly zeroes in on it.

The world has been rough for years but maybe this cup of coffee, fleece sweatshirt and the plate of pakorey beside you will be soft enough to help for the next few.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #mcu fic #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #winter soldier x reader #Winter Soldier #bucky barnes #bucky

581 notes · View notes

malereader-inserts · 3 years

Text

You’re My Dad (Boogie Woogie)

Fandom: Avengers Pairing: Peter Parker & Male!Reader Summary: You are my dad! You’re my dad (boogie woogie woogie) Word Count: 1,507 Request: hello! how are you? can i request a platonic peter parker x male reader where reader likes to take care of peter, like cook him meals, give him snacks when he's studying or just give him snacks when he sees peter lounging. and maybe reader and tony are dating A/n: You sent a hefty request, hopefully I got everything in - I really hope that your cousin will enjoy this though!

Peter Parker was no stranger to death.

His parents were killed when he was a young boy and his uncle was shot when he was only a teenager. He only had his Aunt May until he didn’t. She was driving back from work and got in an unfortunate accident.

Peter Parker was no stranger to death, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t have a family.

Tony and you took him when you heard about the accident. Peter was still a kid, he’s still a teenager and you wouldn’t stand for him to go to foster care. You have known Peter since Tony asked him to join him in Germany. How Tony asked if Peter if he wanted to intern under him.

After all, you were Tony’s boyfriend for quite a while so when Peter slept over at Tony’s house, you were there. You would cook meals for your two science boys and remind them to take a break from their long science experience. Peter saw you and Tony as father figures, the men he really looked up after his Uncle Ben had passed away.

Tony didn’t have the greatest childhood, he vowed to himself and you if you happen to adopt that he will be the best father any child could as for and you’ve seen him pick up calls from a lovely boy called Harley, which you have met a few times, and will always drop anything to have a conversation. You saw how Tony acted with Peter, to see pride and joy, you couldn’t help but smile at your boyfriend.

You had a great childhood, you grew up with loving parents and loving yet bratty siblings. Your childhood wasn’t quiet and always fun - your parents valued making memories with their children, so your parents took you and your siblings to sporting events, festivals (age-appropriate), holidays. They were strict, but you could recall how they let you sleepover with friends and bring friends over, you can remember how they let you go to concerts with your friends and/or siblings.

You kept that family love in your heart and Peter really felt it.

Peter wasn’t much of a sports person, but when he was in the presence of you and Tony, he doesn’t mind much.

“Listen, kid,” You say, ruffling his hair, “You’re part of the Avenger family and you’re a superhero with wicked abilities - you know for the fact that Rogers and Romanov will not go easy on you in training.”

“He’s right,” Tony calls from behind, not looking up from his work as Peter groans.

“But, you could totally avoid intense training if you told them that you do sports with me, nothing too heavy,” You smiled, as Peter thinks it over.

“Like what?”

You shrugged your shoulders, “I don’t know, we could play baseball? The good all hit and run style. Or maybe volleyball, you pick the sport that week and we’ll do it.”

“Do you even have the equipment?”

You raised an eyebrow, “Peter, honey, you’re currently in the home of a Stark - you think Tony doesn’t have these things on standby.”

“I don’t know, he doesn’t seem to be an athletic type.”

“I heard that!” Tony exclaimed as the two of you laugh.

When Peter moved in for the final time, Peter felt like he was somewhat out of place. He had a room at the Stark-(L/n) residence and he would spend nights, if not weekends, at theirs but he felt like he was intruding. It was a sudden change in Peter’s environment.

And yet, he felt warm in the house, whilst it really messed with his head for the past few days - you and Tony were slow with the process. You never pushed him out of his comfort zone. You helped him put up the stuff of his family around the house to allow him to heal.

You weren’t in The Avengers, so you had a lot of free time. Instead of working in an office, you created things to sell on the internet, it was a hobby because Tony insist you live a lavish life. But, that doesn’t stop you from working around the house. Peter was often met with delicious smelling food, whilst you had a rule that he would cook his own lunch if he didn’t have school and you would cook dinner for everyone.

You, Tony and Peter, would sit down together with each other, talking about Peter’s day at school and how Tony is dealing with things with Avengers and Stark Enterprise despite Pepper being in charge of that. Even after eating, sometimes you’ll dig into some dessert and talk about shared interest such as music and shows.

If you guys are watching a series together, you’ll update them on lore or when the next episode is being dropped out. If it’s about a shared interest in music, you would happily indulge in what music has been released recently.

Peter and Tony will happily clean after dinner, one will washing up and the other doing drying.

“You know we have a dishwasher right?” Tony called through as he hands Peter a soaked plate.

“And?” You called back, “It’s called responsibilities, I will not have lazy boys in my house!”

Peter chuckled as he put the plate down and takes the wet glass, he doesn’t mind the chores you ask him to do. You teach him lessons in life because sometimes just hanging around with you felt like home to him.

“You know how to work the washing machine, right Pete?” You asked, standing in the doorway of his room looking at the floor of dirty clothes.

“I’ll pick it up - I promise, but, um not really? Aunt May usually go to the laundrette.”

“Alright, when your laundry basket gets full, I’ll show you how to work the washing machine and dryer. I don’t mind doing your washing but every now and then, you can do it.”

“Yeah, that’ll be fine!”

When Peter fully settles into the house, he found himself loving his life. He loves watching you bicker with Tony about the stupidest things - mostly over characters in a show or film. In which, most of the time, he backs you up because the two of you are major geeks over shows and movies.

Peter noticed how much you care for him, knocking on his door and reminding him to drink water and always coming to his room to deliver snacks ranging from a healthy plate of the juiciest fruits to unhealthy sweets.

Whilst both of you were in Peter’s life, he saw you more as comfort - it was taking a while for Peter to adjust with Tony, he still see it as a mentor and student sort relationship. But, with you, he sees someone who he could come to for any troubles with school and relationships.

Peter walked into the living room, hearing how you and Tony were bickering over which character was better in Game of Thrones in each house. Peter couldn’t help but laugh about it.

“Hey, kid! Tony greeted with a wave, placing the hand back on your shoulder.

You smiled at Peter, “Heya Pete!”

“Hi Mr Stark, hi dad!”

Silence.

The only thing that was playing was the show in the background as Peter stood in his spot in utter fear. Tony sat there in silence as he looks over at you, you slowly got up from your seat without saying a word and made your way to Peter.

Peter looked at you with wide eyes, “I- I mean...!”

You engulfed him into the biggest hug you could muster. One hand on his back and the other in his hair, Peter found himself relaxing as he immediately wrapped his arms around you and grip you tight. You brushed his hair as he buried his face into your shoulder.

You release him, in fear that you might suffocate him, “I’m really honoured.”

“I-” Peter turns red, looking down for a moment before looking at you, “You are my dad, to me.”

You smiled widely at him, “Okay, celebration time, let’s bake cookies!”

You lead the way as Peter offers to help, the two of you pull your sleeves up as you bring the ingredients onto the counter. Tony followed, silently watching with a fond smile upon his face. He ruffles Peter’s hair with a smile as Peter beams at him.

“Alright, what can I help with?” Tony asked as you asked him to bring out the kitchen utensils, “Oh and Pete?”

“Yeah?”

“What about me?” Tony pouts as Peter widen his eyes as you laugh loudly.

“Tough luck baby, it looks like Pete favours me,” You teased as Tony scoffed.

“No, unacceptable, I’m taking Peter for a week out, I’ll be the favourite parent.”

You roll your eyes as you look over to Peter whilst Tony rant, shaking your head and nodding your head towards your boyfriend, as you mouthed to Peter “Get a load of this guy.”

Peter smiles.

Peter knows death, but he’s well acquainted with family.

#peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker x male!reader #x male reader #platonic #Avengers #avengers imagine

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halstudandruz · 3 years

Text

Research Purposes ~ Part 2

*Not my gif*

Pairing: Jay x Reader

Requested: Yes

Prompt: What happens when the only person in the world you didn’t want finding out does?

Warnings: Swearing

A/N: Part one found here (NSFW, 18+)

A/N 2: Also thank you to @enchantedblackrose for the idea 😊

If you are not 18+ and are unable to read part 1 and want to back story just hit me up (:

“We’re so freaking late. There’s no way we’ll have time to stop for my car.” You rushed around Jay’s apartment, pouring coffee for both of you.

“And whose fault is that.” Jay looked at you accusingly.

“I was just trying to help the environment.” You shrugged, handing him his cup after checking the lid.

“You and I both know we wasted more water in there together than we would’ve showering on our own.” He retorted grabbing his badge and gun off the coffee table to secure them to his belt.

“Yeah okay so I wanted shower sex sue me.” You rolled your eyes shrugging your jacket on.

“I wasn’t the one complaining.” He smiled, taking a drink.

“We would’ve had more than enough time if you didn’t insist on cuddling this morning.” You pointed out, remembering how he pulled you back into his chest every time you tried to move out of bed a couple hours prior.

“You like shower sex. I like cuddling.” He teased handing you your purse.

“Maybe we can draft up an alternate schedule.” You joked.

“I do hear compromise is the key to a healthy relationship.” He replied.

“We gotta go if you don’t want to get pulled over for speeding.” You changed the subject reaching for the door knob, before being tugged back by your arm, turning in time for Jay’s lips to meet yours in a sweet, passionate kiss.

“To get us both through the day.” Jay winked reaching around you to open the door and usher you out.

This was the second time that week you and Jay would be showing up to work together. Nobody noticed it the first time, but your anxiety climbed at the thought of someone recognizing and approaching you about it. What would you say? You and Jay were only in it purely for the sex. Right? Regardless of that fact that you had stayed at his house almost every night the past couple weeks even without the promise of sex, or how your stuff was starting to accumulate at his house from the past few months. A few t-shirts mixed in with his, hair straightener resting on his bathroom organizer, makeup scattered about on the dresser. Friends with benefits, that’s all it was. Nothing more and you certainly were not gaining feelings for him. Absolutely not that was against the rules and you were not about to be some stereotypical fuck buddy turned feelings trope, but you were getting sloppy apparently. You agreed to enter through the front while Jay entered through the back. Skipping up the steps you threw a smile at Trudy offering her a good morning, but in return she stared you down, eyebrow raised as she rested against the desk.

“What?” You stopped in your tracks in front of her. But she stayed silent giving you a look, and you just knew she knew. She was Trudy Platt. She knew everything.

“You should tell him.” She whispered to you, and it’s not the first time she had said something of the sort recently.

“Tell who, what?” You continued to fake innocence as you had the times before.

“It’s going to end badly.” She pushed again.

“It already did end badly.” You reminded her before trudging upstairs feeling the heat of her stare still on your back. Everyone except Kim was already there, including Jay who had his feet kicked up on his desk looking through a file. You greeted everyone draping your coat over the back of your chair and falling into it.

The first hour ticked by slowly, and you found your eyes moving across the room to focus on Jay. Opened documents lay across your desk. He looked so relaxed, shoulders loose, breaths slow and even, head resting against his palm as he fought not to fall asleep. You knew he would rather be out chasing suspects, but deep down you were starting to register you were okay with paperwork days. It meant he was safe, and that thought scared you a little. The last time you had those same thoughts you were staring at a different man in the room. A man who sat not too far behind Jay, clicking his pen absentmindedly as he often did when he was bored.

“Ruz, I’ll break the damn pen.” Kevin grumbled, as he had many times before in response to the habit.

“Sorry.” Adam mumbled, setting the utensil onto his desk away from his fidgety hands.

You chuckled at the small exchange, experiencing the exact same one many times in the years you had been detailed in intelligence with the best people you could’ve ever asked to work with. That certainly didn’t mean it wasn’t complicated though, and you were the very obvious example of that. You watched Jay’s head bob catching himself before adjusting in order to keep himself awake. His eyes accidentally met yours, heart rate immediately increasing. He sent you a small smile as his eyes started to roam over your body. Looking for a distraction from the tedious work. You couldn’t scold him. It wasn’t like you hadn’t been doing the same thing the past 10 minutes. Looking at his arms that were tight against his sleeves you wondered if the scratch marks you left on his biceps this morning would still be prevalent, or if the fading hickey from nights prior was still noticeable on his hip bone.

“I need coffee. Anyone else?” You asked trying to divert the obvious eye fucking your were giving each other. Everyone in the room raising their hands. You laughed taking notice of all the tired eyes who so obviously wanted to bash their heads off the desk already bored out of their minds, just waiting for a case to jump off.

“I’ll help.” Jay offered, voice gruff from barely speaking all morning. Together you poured and distributed everyone cups. Sitting back down into your chair when Jay was handing Kev his.

“You gonna shave that thing anytime soon? You usually can’t stand it past a week.” Kevin asked Jay, referring to his beard. They had always teased him whenever he claimed it grew in patchy compared to Adam and Kevin’s and it usually resulted in him having a clean shaven face the next shift. But it had grown in quite nicely this time, and he made sure to keep it presentable by trimming it as needed.

“No, it’s starting to grow on me. I’m keeping it for research anyway. Seems it can enhance far more than just my facial features.” Jay shrugged casually sitting back down atin his chair, and at his words you choked on your coffee spitting it all over your desk. Uncontrollable coughs tickling your throat.

“You good [Y/L/N]?” Hailey asked standing up to help you.

“Yeah..sorry. Just.. went down the wrong pipe. Didn’t expect it to be so.. hot.” You explained between coughs looking across the room to glare at Jay who wore a cocky smirk on his face, flipping through papers not daring to look up at you.

“You forget your ice?” Adam asked, knowing you had put a couple cubes of ice in your coffee every morning cooling it down so you could drink it faster.

“I must’ve. Kinda out of it today.” You shook your head taking napkins out of your drawer to try to clean up the mess you had made on your desk as well as your white shirt.

“I’ll get you some.” He started to walk towards the break room.

“It’s really okay I spit most of it out anyway.” You laughed.

“I’ll just get you a new cup.” He reasoned and you just thanked him not feeling like bickering with him about it. He had been going out of his way to do nice things for you recently. You assumed either so you wouldn’t spill the beans about him and Upton or because he felt bad.

“There’s no way this is coming out..” You grumbled dabbing at the tan stain forming on your shirt, “Do you happen to have a spare?” You asked, turning towards Hailey.

“I’m sorry I don’t. I used my spare the other day after that shooting and haven’t brought another extra.” Hailey apologized. You waved her off thanking her anyway.

“There’s one in my locker.” Jay offered, “You’ll probably just have to tuck it in.” You thought for a moment, it probably wouldn’t look like a big deal. Just a friend helping out a friend.

“Okay. Thanks.” You nodded getting up to head to the locker room where Jay followed. “I know where your locker is.” You rolled your eyes.

“Yes, but you don’t know my combination nor are you very good at opening dial locks. Hence why you have a keypad one on yours.” Jay pointed out, spinning his combination. He was right. You could never open dial locks.

“Do you analyze everything I do?” You crossed your arms annoyed at how well he always seemed to know you.

“You’re an interesting person babe.” He smiled handing you the shirt as he kissed your forehead.

“Watch yourself. You don’t know who’s hiding in here.” You lectured, “this is your fault by the way.”

“I know. Total win-win situation.” Jay laughed, smiling brightly.

“You’re gonna be the death of me Jay Halstead.” You groaned, a small smile on your lips.

“What a way to go though, huh?” He quipped, giving you a quick kiss.

“Get out.” You pushed his chest.

“What? No free peep show? I offered you my shirt and everything.” He acted offended.

“They’re gonna start getting suspicious if we are in here any longer go.” He huffed at your reply giving in and leaving as you turned around to switch shirts. Jay’s scent immediately overwhelmed you as you slipped his shirt on. Causing your body to relax in turn at the familiar fragrance. Jay was right, you had to tuck the shirt into your jeans, otherwise it could’ve been a dress thanks to your large height difference. Turning to walk out of the locker room, you were met with Adam holding a new cup of coffee out to you making you jump at the unexpected body in your path. “Thank you.” You giggled taking it from his hand to take a drink.

“Did you change?” He asked, eyeing the shirt you now wore.

“Oh yeah. I had white on and it was gonna stain so Jay offered me his shirt.” You explained, shifting on your feet at the uncomfortable conversation.

“Well I have one. It might fit you better.” He offered moving to walk towards his locker, but you put a hand to his chest stopping him.

“I’m good this one is perfectly fine.” You reassured him, Adam stared at you, breaking the tense silence with a long sigh, leaning against the side of the lockers.

“Listen we never got to talk about that night you came to my apartment. I just wanted to say I’m really sorry you-“ He began to apologize when Kevin peeked his head in the door.

“Hey, I’m sorry to interrupt..” he looked between the two of you awkwardly, “but we just got a case.” Adam cleared his throat as you nodded,

“We can..finish this later.” You chewed on your lip pushing past him to grab your coat out of Kevin’s hand.

It was nearing 8 o’clock by the time Voight had given you guys permission to go home and get some sleep. Knowing you’d be returning bright and early in the morning to continue to case.

“What do you think about pizza tonight? I’ve been craving some Bartolis.” Jay asked walking down the stairs behind you.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” You stopped turning to face him when you rounded the corner out of sight.

“Well I can just get pizza and I’ll stop for whatever else you want too.” He offered.

“I’m not talking about food, Jay.” You laughed, looking at the ground. Your mind had been racing since showing up with Jay this morning.

“Then..what are you talking about?” He asked, stepping closer towards you.

“I mean I don’t know I’ve been at your place almost every night the last couple weeks.” You whispered, hoping your voice wouldn’t carry to anyone nearby.

“Well we can go to your place. That’s fine.” He reasoned.

“No that’s not..” You sighed not able to find the words.

“Hey, just talk to me. What’s up.” He encouraged hands falling to your hips holding you gently.

“I’m just worried we’re starting to get careless. Showing up to work twice in one week together. One of these days we’re bound to get caught either coming in together or showing up on scene together. We don’t even know what this is. I don’t want to have to talk to Voight about it in the meantime.” You explained.

“We can be more careful. I promise. I just don’t want you to freak out about this.” He assured you tucking your hair behind your ear. “Can we just address how good you look in my shirt. I’m so glad you’re such a klutz..” Jay’s eyes roamed up and down your body.

“I am not a klutz! How did you expect me to react?” You crossed your arms, glaring at him as you did a few hours prior.

“Well is it not the truth? This thing is still on my face purely for your satisfaction.” He reminded you by trailing his lips down your neck, immediately summoning goosebumps from the raggedness tickling in the wake of his lips. He winked knowing his point was proven, moving up to place a soft kiss on your lips. “Sooo pizza?” He asked, pulling back, hopeful look on his face.

“Fine, but I’m not going in to get it.” You rolled your eyes, a bright smile on your face when he wrapped an arm around your shoulders pulling you towards his truck but when you rounded the corner your eyes connected with Adam’s who stood near the door, eyes wide between you two as Jay let his arm fall to his side, your feet rooted to the floor.

“I forgot my wallet in my locker.” Adam explained stammering over his words.

“Well don’t let us keep you. See you tomorrow brother.” Jay remained calm grabbing your arm to pull you out. Patting Adam on the shoulder when you passed.

“Shit!” You cursed when you reached Jay’s truck.

“What?” He questioned and you looked at him dumbfounded.

“You’re fucking kidding me right?” You scoffed.

“He’s not gonna tell Voight. For starters it’s Adam. Plus we know about him and Hailey. He can’t.” He shrugged.

“That’s not what I’m worried about!” You yelled.

“You just said that’s what you were worried about.” Jay reminded you, trying to catch up. “Babe.” He urged when you didn’t answer him.

“You don’t get it Jay!” You shook your head, lump forming in your throat at the anxiety the situation presented.

“No, you’re right I don’t. I’m sorry. Help me understand.” He grabbed a hold of your hand trying to get you to face him.

“Not right now.” You chewed your lip feeling a few tears fall down your cheeks, quickly swiping them away before they were seen, but you knew Jay would know regardless. You were tired, hungry, and now slightly panicking at the thought of having to address the entire situation. His hand squeezed yours tighter before starting his truck putting it in drive.

All Tag List:

@corebore123 @scarletsoldierrr @hehurst23 @beautiful-bunny89 @ingie @halsteadsway @malrunaway @grettiwrites @inlovewith3

Jay Taglist:

@jayxhalsteadx @life-treatments @weepingfestivalmentality @toomuchtv95 @queen-of-arda

#jay halstead x reader #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead #chicago pd imagine #chicago pd x reader #Chicago pd #one chicago imagine #one chicago

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avengersassemble-fics · 3 years

Text

Stark Legacy

part 01/?? "the only person"

master list

word count 4.3k

an: :3 welcome to a new fic bc idk how to control myself

WARNING: this part does depict alcohol usage, and mentions of other substances a character uses to cope (though nothing is explicitly mentioned).

“An unemployment and housing crisis skyrockets to higher levels as people still struggle to adjust and accommodate the population we had years ago. Streets are littered with people seeking hope-”

“According to world economists, the surge in loan denials is leading to an unprecedented end, leaving the experts scrambling for a way to get the economy back on track, also claiming that the Global Repatriation Council may be asking for too much-”

“Protests break out across Switzerland as support for the group known as the Flag Smashers rises, with the Global Repatriation Council denying any comment on the matter, as well as refusing to comment on the rumours that the newly titled Captain America is investigating the matter-”

“What can we expect from Stark Industries now that Tony Stark is no longer with us? Pepper Potts, while having led the company in a positive direction prior to the Blip, has had no new developments over the last six months. With these newfound challenges the world is facing we’re left to wonder.. Who is going to step up as the ingenious mind behind new innovation? Will the youngest Stark continue on in the steps of father and brother, or are we seeing the end of the Stark Legacy?”

Click.

Silence filled the blue colored cottage that was tucked away at the end of the street in Ransdorp. Though dim and lifeless inside the cottage, outside the sun shined while birds chirped away happily and the sound of children playing echoed through the air. But inside the cottage, all alone, someone stood and tossed a television remote back onto the couch that was once occupied. They shed the blanket that had been wrapped around their shoulders all night while listening to all the different news reports, and entering a small bedroom and dressed in the dark. It was a Wednesday afternoon, and after shuffling through the cottage to grab a few things, the back doors were pushed and locked open, and a breeze blew through the house.

You squinted as you put a sun hat on and oversized sunglasses, overlooking the green oasis you had worked on every day for the last six months. Pushing away the thoughts of what the news had been saying, you stepped down onto the wooden patio that lined the back door and carried a hefty packed bag with you to the garden you had planted. You set the bag down and kneeled into the soft grass, and got to work on picking on fresh vegetables to use for your dinner later. Lucky for you, the soil was perfect here.

So… How have the last six months been for you?

Well the garden was a distraction your neighbor had suggested after finally catching you one day while throwing out a bag full of alcohol bottles you had consumed. You could see her take a second glance over your disheveled appearance, but she ignored it for the most part (which thankfully she did, you were a little sick of people telling you how to feel at the time). Naturally, instead of working through your problems, you distracted yourself from them.

But in all honesty… It’s been hard. Maybe it was selfish of you to think so, but you felt like you had been dealt one of the shittiest hands from the universe. The pressure from the world after… After Tony’s death was suffocating. As more paparazzi followed you around, the worse that anxiety had gotten. With that newfound attention, you had also been summoned by the United States government to attest for your time as a HYDRA agent. Lucky for you, in some way, they dropped any serious charges due to your restraint under the program, but sentenced you to weekly therapy sessions (since SHIELD had denied to disclose your mental capabilities). To your knowledge, Bucky Barnes had been offered a similar deal. The therapy lasted all of a month before you… Negotiated your way out of it, and returned to this safe place.

You drowned yourself in drinks and other activities after leaving New York, which in turn made your black-out episodes reappear, which had become evident as the photographed wall in your second bedroom started to be crossed out fast. You couldn’t help but twitch at the thought, and steered clear of that subject. But as of five months ago, you were all but cut off from all things Avengers.

Everyone had gone their own separate ways for the most part. Wanda was off the radar, Sam had gone and gotten a contract with the Air Force, Clint got his family back, Rhodey was some top notch Air Force guy (you didn’t really know what he was up to nowadays), Thor was gone offworld, Scott was making up for lost time with his family, and Bucky… Well, you didn’t know much about that situation either. Sam had tried to reach out after everything, but in one of your drunken states you threw your phone in the Weersloot river. You didn’t need a reminder of that day, or those few weeks even.

You never played the message Happy had given you from Tony. You never had the courage to do so, and you had it tucked away in your room safe and sound. Honestly? You were starting to think you never would be ready to hear what Tony had to say to you before he died. You just couldn’t bear to hear it, never would… Because if he even mentioned someone’s name you didn’t know how you would react.

When you started to think about Steve, you picked up a drink to take your mind off it. You had yet to come to terms with him leaving, because it still hurt like the day it happened.

Losing Tony was the worst thing that could’ve happened in your eyes. He was your family, though Pepper and Morgan had become your family too, Tony was the last piece of your family you could hold onto. The last shred to the past you fought so hard to remember and cherish, and now him and that part of you was gone. He was your everything. He always would be.

But Steve? Losing Steve wasn’t something you had ever even considered. While Tony was your soul, Steve was your heart. Despite everything you two had been through, the feelings hurt and the years it took to make it back together, Steve always had your heart. He was the man you wanted to fall asleep with and wake up to. He was the man you talked about growing old with, what life would be like if he gave up the Captain America mantle, he was supposed to be your future...

And then he stayed in the past, and left you here confused. Hurt. Alone.

You lost the two people you had left in the world. Your heart and your soul. And it was the most devastating blow you had ever felt… Everyday you wondered how someone comes back from something like that, if it was even possible.

Your thoughts were interrupted when a hefty softball landed in a thud in your garden and smushed one of your little tomatoes. You blinked at the sight before grabbing the ball and looking up to see the familiar short boy next door pulling himself up on the fence that separated your yard from his, and you grabbed a rag from your bag and wiped the softball off.

“Je vernielt in zijn eentje mijn tuin, weet je,” (You’re single-handedly ruining my garden, you know) you said to the boy and looked up at him through your sunglasses.

“Vergeef mij,” (Forgive me) he said and rested his head on his hands to watch you finish wiping his ball off. “Mijn vader wilde niet met mij spelen” (My dad wouldn’t play with me).

You stopped wiping for a moment and could see the sad look in the kids face. You smiled softly and stood, making your way over to the fence and handing him his ball back, though his expression didn’t change.

“Vraag het me de volgende keer dat je wilt spelen, oké?” (Next time you want to play, come ask me, okay?) You told him, and the smile reappeared on his face and he gave you a nod. You ruffled his hair as he jumped back off the fence and played once again. You went back to your bag, now full with vegetables, and picked it up to head back inside. You had a sweet pasta recipe to try tonight, and you think what you selected should work great-

You stopped in your tracks right before the back door. You lowered your sunglasses and lowered your gaze to the ground as you tried to focus on the sound in the air, the shift in the environment. You may have been slightly hungover but the presence was not hard to miss. You straightened your stance and gripped your sunglasses in your fist.

“Sam?” You called out. At first there wasn’t any rustling, but after a few moments you heard your back gate unlock and creak open, and that’s when you could hear the extra set of footsteps. You slowly turned around to face who had finally tracked you down, and were met with Sam Wilson… And Bucky Barnes in tow.

“What are you doing here?” You more so asked Sam. The pair glanced at one another and Bucky nodded his head at his partner in crime (God, you could just tell they were up to something) and Sam shoved his hands into the jacket he had been wearing.

“We came to see you, check in on how you’re doing,” Sam said. You chuckled a bit, and shook your head.

“That’s bullshit and you know it,” you called him out. “What are you really doing here?”

“We need your help,” Bucky said. You bit your tongue and looked them over, maybe just a little curious as to what was going on. Just a little. “We stumbled onto something that I think you may have some information on.”

You hummed to yourself for a moment, thinking it over. Truthfully, the last thing you needed was whatever this was. So you shook your head and shrugged your shoulders. “I’m afraid I can’t help, but thanks for thinking of me.”

You turned your back on them and stepped up a couple steps into your house, and was all but ready to close the door to the world and close yourself off from Sam and Bucky, but Bucky took a step forward.

“There’s more super soldiers out there,” Bucky said in a serious tone. You stopped in your tracks, gripping onto your door for a few moments before looking back out to the pair. Bucky was watching you intently, in a stare you had only seen on him once before (which you didn’t want to recount at the moment). There was movement near the fence, and your eyes darted there to see the neighbor boy peeping his head over to see what was going on. When his gaze met yours, and you gave him “the look” he disappeared just as quickly as he appeared, and you looked back at the pair standing in your yard and against all better judgement, motioned your head behind you. Understanding your cue, Sam led the way inside, and you shut the door quickly behind Bucky.

You moved around the burly super soldier and brushed past Sam to set your bag of veggies in your kitchen. You had to take a moment to compose yourself before facing the duo who had been watching you intently. “Okay.. Go on. What do you mean there’s more super soldiers?”

Sam grabbed something from his pocket, a phone it looked like, and pulled something up before handing you the device. You hesitantly took it and looked down at the phone, where a video began playing of the recent Gasel Bank heist. You watched as someone got beaten to the ground, but what was astonishing was the sheer strength the masked person showed. Captivated, you carried the device into the living room and plopped down into the cushions of your sofa and watched more footage, this time up close from what you could guess were Dumb and Dumber who moved to hover over you.

“We were hoping you might know something,” Sam said. You handed his phone back to him which he graciously accepted, and you tapped your fingers together in thought before looking over at Bucky.

“What makes you think I know anything?” You asked. Bucky seemed to huff in annoyance at your questioning him, in all honesty you just wanted to hear him say it.

“You and I both know what went into the replication of that serum, your program especially,” Bucky said. You felt a lump form at the back of your throat and you casted your eyes downward. “You were still there after me… Did they perfect Stark’s serum?”

You looked back up at his question, and you held his gaze for a moment. You couldn’t believe this was how your day was turning, and you were pissed that he of all people were bringing up your past, like you volunteered for any of that shit. You lightly bounced your leg as you fought to remember what you had known.

“HYDRA had been unsuccessful in using my father’s formula of the serum again, even after you managed to escape their hold,” you started. You swallowed the lump in the back of your throat and leaned back into the couch, averting your gaze from Bucky to the floor as you searched your memory. “They brought in a scientist, but it wasn’t my op, and it was on a need to know basis. The only reason we knew they started the research again was they started taking people from the Phantom program to test the serum on.”

“Phantom program?” Sam asked.

“That’s what they called us,” you mumbled. “All of us were deemed dead so… It was only fitting.”

“Did the scientist perfect the serum?” Bucky asked. You shrugged your shoulders and met his look again.

“Didn’t think so,” you answered honestly. “So if there’s serum still out there, he has to be your guy. Though I can say I didn’t see any kind of sign of that activity when working with SHIELD.”

“But it’s a start,” Sam nodded and Bucky looked his way. The two started sharing odd glances, and you watched in confusion. Sam suddenly looked your way and motioned around. “Think you could spare some time and do this mission with us?”

“Sam-” Bucky began to say as a warning, but you chuckled a bit which made him stop.

“I don’t do this anymore,” you told them as you motioned between them.

“Come on (Y/N),” Sam tried to reason as you stood up and walked your way back into the kitchen and opened up a cabinet in search of tonight’s bottle of wine to go with dinner. “I get that you’re going through it, I really do, but-”

Just as you managed to select the perfect medium-bodied red wine, Sam had come up beside you and took the bottle out of your hand. “This isn’t going to help you.”

“Yeah Sam and what is?” You asked while crossing your arms. “Because right now the only thing that would help me out is to see my brother again but guess what! It’s not going to fucking happen! It’s just me, here, and all by myself. All by myself…”

Your words trailed off as a heaviness grew in your chest. The atmosphere in the room was a lot more stuffy, and you would rather curl up and disappear then let Sam (and Bucky) see you cry. But here you fucking were, with Sam seeing the tears build up in your eyes and the look he gave you, you wanted to be mad but the only thing that you could seem to feel was just sad. You blinked back the feeling and took a glance back at Bucky, who stood in your living room and averted his gaze. You looked back at Sam, and put on the best front you could.

“You’re welcome to stay for the night, someone can take the bed in my room and someone can take the couch, but tomorrow? We go our separate ways again,” you said in a low tone. Sam’s look at you was… Disappointment. Before the sentiment could settle on your already guilty conscience you turned around and grabbed your keys and a peacoat and stopped at the front door. “Help yourselves to whatever you need.”

With that, you pulled the door open and just as swiftly shut behind you. The cottage walls shook for a moment before settling to a silence inside. Sam looked down at the bottle in his hand and set it back onto the counter before looking Bucky’s way, who still looked annoyed.

“What?” Bucky defensively asked when he noticed Sam’s stare. Sam shook his head at him and pushed the wine bottle to the back of the counter.

“You pushed that too hard,” Sam said, to which Bucky scoffed.

“Me? You’re the one who asked her to join us which, by the way, where did that come from?” Bucky questioned as Sam came back to the living room and sat down on the couch. Sam leaned forward with his arms on his legs and rubbed his hands together.

“Take a look around Robo-cop,” Sam emphasized and Bucky let out an annoyed sigh. “You’re seeing what I’m seeing, right?”

Bucky looked around at your surroundings. He wouldn’t peg it as chaotic, but he also couldn’t pin it as put together. There were personal touches here and there, but it didn’t feel like you belonged here. Bucky wasn’t blind to what was going on here, but he also didn’t see how that pertained to what Sam was suggesting.

“Sam, we came for some information, we got it, so why don’t you tell me what you’re trying to say,” Bucky replied. Sam rolled his eyes and leaned back into the cushions.

“We let her come here, by herself, even knowing how devastated she was after Tony died,” Sam explained. Bucky’s eyes darted to the floor at the memory of him following you out to that shed the day of Tony’s funeral, and the empty expression your eyes held. “Hell, we don’t even know how she felt about Steve. We should’ve been here for this. And that makes us shitty friends.”

“Ah, I wouldn’t say we’re friends-”

“Oh I’m sorry, who's the one that said she owed you a favor?” Sam asked and Bucky shrugged his shoulders.

“I did, but that doesn’t mean-”

“Nah ah,” Sam cut him off and Bucky rolled his eyes. “If you two owe one another favors, then your friends.”

“That’s sound logic, Sam,” Bucky sarcastically said.

You tossed your glass bottle of whatever the hell it was you drank earlier into a trash can on your way back home. You pulled your keys out of your jacket pocket and jingled them around until you found your house key and hipped quietly. Your cottage was just in view and all the lights were out. You grumbled to yourself as you neared, forced to remember what had happened earlier in the day (and boy did you work hard to forget that Sam and bucky were at your lace haha). You stumbled up the two steps to your door and used the wall to steady yourself, before quietly shoving your key into the door and pushed the door open.

It took a second to adjust to the environment, but the whole cottage was pitch black, besides whatever light from the moon managed to filter in. You carefully walked around the couch and glanced down at who occupied it, and when you saw Sam peacefully asleep you then looked at the door to your room and shuddered at the fact Bucky must’ve taken residence in there. You huffed a bit, and pulled a spare blanket out of a basket and moved to the back door. When you finally got outside and shut the door to not disturb your guest you tossed your blanket onto the patio sofa you had and kicked your shoes off.

After shedding yourself of your peacoat and plopping down on the hard cushions, you inwardly cursed the two men inside. You were doing just fine before their arrival, you had a schedule of self loathing and drinking then sleeping that they were interrupting. You just weren’t looking forward to the repercussions of tonight’s sleep. You laid back across the sofa and looked up at the sky, though nothing was there anymore. Or at least there wasn’t anything you could see.

Let’s be honest here. The reason you had turned to drinking was because of the fuzzy feeling you got after awhile. Your mind got to drift to something else besides the memories of your past, like… what to drink next, or in this case, is that a star or an airplane? It made the moment more simple, it made you forget who you were until you woke up again. That didn’t mean you didn’t resent yourself for your actions, but you just added that to the list of reasons why your endgame was the best resolution. You just weren’t ready to tell anyone what that endgame was.

Your gate creaked and you tilted your head to look in that direction. You could barely make out the figure as they neared, Bucky’s face became more clear. You looked back up to the sky and shook your head a bit to yourself. Bucky came to a stop close to you, and sighed a bit.

“You should go inside,” He said quietly.

“You should just leave me alone,” you quipped back to him. Though you couldn’t see it, Bucky rolled his eyes at your drunken response. You suddenly felt a lot more sober, and you turned your head to face him. “You had no right, you know.”

“What are you talking about?” Bucky asked and you huffed.

“You had no right to bring up the Phantom program. I didn’t tell anyone about that, not even Tony,” you admitted to him. Bucky bit his tongue and looked up at the sky for a moment to collect himself. “I didn’t want anyone to go digging into the extent of that.”

“I didn’t know,” Bucky admitted. You blinked at him as he caught your gaze again. “Look… I’m sorry.”

You fell silent before letting out a small sigh and adjusting yourself to be a little more comfortable, your head finally starting to feel dizzy again. But Bucky wasn’t ready to settle this, he shifted his weight and turned to face you.

“Why are you doing this to yourself?” Bucky asked. Your eyes fluttered back open and you looked over at him. He had taken a step closer, and hovered over you, and you raised a brow.

“What are you talking about?” You asked him this time.

“The drinking,” Bucky pointed out. You huffed and turned your head in the opposite direction into the cushions, and Bucky rolled his eyes. “It’s not going to help you know.”

“Yeah and how would you know?” You asked and looked back at him. Bucky leaned down to get in your face, and you tried to move back from him.

“Because I’m probably the only person who really knows what’s going on in your head.”

You bit your tongue, and Bucky backed off. In a bit of a daze, you plopped back down onto the cushions and pulled the blanket you brought out up to your chin. Bucky rolled his eyes at you shutting him down, and he moved to the door to go inside. The sooner the morning came and Sam and he could leave, the better for him.

“I never blamed you, you know,” you said in a light voice. Bucky stopped in his tracks and looked over at you. Your eyes were closed, and you were breathing evenly. Bucky retracted his hand from the door knob and took a couple steps closer. He needed to hear that again.

“What did you say?” He asked. You stirred a bit, but didn’t answer him. Carefully, Bucky used his gloved hand to touch your shoulder, and give you a small shake. When you still didn’t say anything, Bucky sighed and looked between the door and you and cursed in his head.

Bucky carefully slid an arm under your shoulders, and then hooked his other under your legs. He hoisted you up into his arms and into his chest, and your head rolled into his arm. Bucky shook his head at it and carefully brought you back inside, and past the couch, and pushed your room door open with his foot. Bucky sat himself on the edge of your bed and balanced you in his lap with one arm, and pulled your blankets open with a free hand. When he finally got you into your own bed, he took the blanket you had outside from you and tossed it onto his shoulder, and pulled the blankets on the bed onto you. Bucky stood from your bed, and before leaving the room he took a final glance at you as you stirred just slightly.

Bucky closed your door, and walked back towards the couch and settled himself onto the floor. As his back met the floor, he couldn’t help but wonder if you meant what you said, about not blaming him for what happened. One thing he did know was he meant what he said. Bucky stared at the door to the second room in the house, and he shook his head.

If there was one person he truly wanted to make amends with, it was you. After all, you were on his list of names.

- - - - - - - - - -

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bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher · 3 years

Note

"I'm truly sorry, but I don't think we've ever met." memory loss angst? 👉👈🥺

anon... fam, this turned into an emotional rollercoaster and totally stole my braincell.

3.8k words. angst with a happy ending.

tw: memory loss, minor anxiety, repressed memories, idiots to lovers, whump, angst with a happy ending, angst with a fluffy ending

---

It’s been three hours, five minutes, and forty-two seconds since the frigid breeze whipped Geralt’s angry words at him, shattering his fragile, stupid heart to pieces. Every syllable rings through Jaskier’s head over and over, slamming into him from all directions and crippling him with a bone-deep pain far worse than anything he’s ever felt before. The ache ebbs and flows, lancing through him with every step. Not even Geralt’s first frustrated blow to his abdomen had been this terrible.

Geralt… That’s the problem, isn’t it? He hadn’t been smart enough to get out of the gorgeous Witcher’s long, silvery hair soon enough. He’d overstayed his welcome, fallen in love in the meantime, and is now very out of sorts (and also alone in unfamiliar territory). The bard laughs but it’s a hollow sound. Jaskier has reached the edge of hysteria, his intelligent blue eyes now vacant and unseeing. Even as he stumbles through the underbrush, all he can picture is the snarl on Geralt’s face as the Witcher yells at Destiny to take Jaskier off his hands.

Jaskier’s own hands are covered in sap and splinters from pushing tree branches away from his face as he traverses the darkening forest. His hair is full of debris and his clothes are torn and dirty; Geralt has all of his emergency supplies, still. Jaskier is pretty sure that his lute is still strapped over his shoulder but he realizes, with no small amount of surprise, that he doesn’t actually care.

He doesn’t have the capacity anymore.

He can’t care… caring hurts too much.

If only Destiny had taken him off Geralt’s hands. Maybe then it would be okay. Maybe then, if Geralt was well and truly free of him and his irritating presence, the Witcher could be happy. He and Yennefer will surely come back around, they always seem to, and Ciri will be joining them soon enough it seems.

There’s no need - no room - for a humble bard anymore.

Only five hours, thirty minutes, and twelve seconds after Geralt’s outburst at the top of the mountain, Jaskier’s delicate human body succumbs to the stress of the day.

He drops to the forest floor without a sound, grateful for the darkness.

---

Yennefer finds the bard in a heap a few miles away from the previous night’s elevated campsite. When she presses the back of her hand to his forehead she yanks it away almost immediately; he’s burning up, and his skin is clammy and sticky with sweat. The feathery bangs he flicks about and preens so much are stuck to his forehead and temples. He’s on the verge of shaking apart and Yennefer tosses her head imperiously, swearing.

“Damnit, Geralt. You and your incredibly foolish need to be alone all the time so you can brood and self-flagellate. Me, an ageless sorceress from one of the greatest magic schools on the Continent? I can handle a thorough tongue lashing. Fuck, I’m older than you and I’ve seen far worse but this… oh, you great lummox. You absolute bastard…” Yennefer mutters to herself as she assesses the bard’s deteriorating state of health, ranting to an invisible Geralt all the while. “You’re absolutely going to be hearing from me about this, Wolf.”

--- Three days, one hour, and fifteen minutes after Geralt dismissed him forever, Jaskier wakes up with a loud gasp and a violent shudder. He blinks slowly, allowing his eyes to adjust to the bright light streaming in through a window. Whatever he’s lying on is comfortable and the sheets smell fresh and bright, like lilac and freesia. A hint of gooseberry lies beneath it all, delicate and sweet. He glances around the space and finds it to be relatively bare; a guest room, perhaps. Maybe he’s a servant at some noble house?

Jaskier only really knows that his name is Jaskier and that he plays music. He’s also rather talented with floral arrangements.

Shortly after he’s finished purveying his (borrowed?) chamber, the very image of grace, beauty, and terror enters the room. The woman, whose coppery skin and enchanting violet eyes practically glow in the midafternoon sun, smiles down at him in a way that toes the line between Motherly and Shark-like.

“How are you feeling, Jaskier?”

“I’m alright. And you?”

“Just fine. Geralt really did a number on us, huh?” she asks, a playful grin tugging at the corner of her mouth. He has the feeling that something isn’t right; she shouldn’t be looking at him so kindly.

Her expression changes from friendly to horrified to confused in an instant, as soon as Jaskier manages to ask: “Who’s Geralt? And, pardon me, but I feel as if something is rather amiss. Who are you, my Lady?”

Whoever the gorgeous and terrifying woman is, she grimaces briefly. Then, as if by magic, the comforting smile returns. “I’m Yennefer, of course. I saved your life a few years ago, remember?”

Jaskier wracks his brain but cannot call the occasion to mind. “Unfortunately no, I don’t remember your no doubt heroic deed. Although I suppose that means I’m in your debt, doesn’t it? Do I work for you? Is that why I’m here?”

The woman blinks a few times, slowly, and then nods. “You’re my gardener and personal musician.”

Jaskier brightens, happy to have found himself in a safe environment.

“But you’ve had a nasty illness and your mind is clearly fatigued. Rest another day or two and then we can see about getting you back into the fresh air.”

“Thank you, my Lady,” Jaskier nods.

“Yen is fine.”

“Thank you, Yen. I don’t know where I’d be without you,” he grins.

---

Yennefer turns away to hide her pained expression. You’d probably still be with your beloved Witcher.

She makes her way to the kitchen to fix Jaskier something to eat. He must be hungry after spending three days in a deep, healing sleep. She hadn’t been expecting the amnesia, though; it was an unexpected but not unsurprising turn of events. Heartbreak had done stranger things than a little bit of fever-induced memory loss. When she’d delved briefly into his mind she hadn’t seen any sign of Geralt. His face was absent from the bard’s consciousness; she would have needed to dig to unearth those memories. Whatever the Witcher had done was grievous, especially if Jaskier’s mind compensated with something as dramatic as burying Geralt completely to save itself from further harm.

No matter, she decides, the bard can stay here as long as he likes. It’s the least I can do for all the upset Geralt and I have caused him. Where is that idiot Witcher, anyway?

The sorceress quickly clears her agenda and her mind before returning to her guest room with a large tray of food, a bottle of Toussainti red under her arm. “Jaskier, darling, let’s get your convalescence started in style!”

---

2 months later

---

Jaskier watches a strange man ride up the long path to Yennefer’s manor, the hilts of his twin swords glinting in the sun where they’re slung over his shoulder. He has long white hair and the most devastating jawline the bard/gardener (or ‘bardener’ as he says to irritate his darling employer) has ever laid eyes on. He’s clad all in black, from his plain linen shirt to his tight leather trousers; Jaskier thinks he’d also look rather lovely in dark blue or perhaps forest green.

In front of him, wrapped securely against his chest by one strong arm, sits a little girl with ashen hair and frightened eyes. Haunted eyes. Jaskier’s mind fills with ballads, some familiar and some oddly dreamlike, their lyrics half-obscured and hazy. Ciri, he thinks for no reason. Her name is Ciri. And she is a Princess.

The brunette scurries from the garden alongside the house to the kitchen, searching for the familiar cloud of Yennefer’s strong perfume. “My Lady?”

“Darling?” the sorceress replies, coming around the corner. She raises her perfectly maintained eyebrows and her lips quirk up into a smirk. “Did you sprint all the way from the west lawn?”

“There’s a- strange man- on the- drive!” he huffs. “White hair- horse!”

“Oh,” her eyes go wide with surprise. Then, in a split second, they narrow to slits. “Oh.”

“Do you, uhm, know him?” Jaskier asks, twiddling his fingers. “He’s rather handsome, Yen. Is he a former lover?”

“Unfortunately,” she growls. “I can’t believe it’s taken him two fucking months to get here. He’d better have a damned good excuse.”

By now Jaskier can breathe normally again and he straightens up, shaking his long, shaggy hair from his eyes. “He had a child with him. She looked scared, Yen.”

“Cirilla!”

Yennefer dashes for the front door and Jaskier follows instinctually. They’re always together and he can’t bear to let her confront this man alone. He’s spent every waking moment with Yen since he awoke that first day and she has grown to be his dearest friend; he’ll protect her even unto death. “Yenna, what’s wrong? Who is he!?”

“Geralt of Rivia,” she snarls. The name seems familiar; maybe from a ballad or story? Perhaps Yen has mentioned him before?

“What about Geralt of Rivia?” a low, rumbling bass asks from the front hallway. Jaskier and Yennefer arrive in the doorway together and the man, Geralt apparently, takes a shaky step back. He recoils a bit, as if he’s been slapped, and Yennefer’s smile grows cruel. His voice, still incredibly low but now with a slight tremor to it, stutters out; “Wha- Yen, what is he- Jaskier? I only came to ask for help with Ciri, I didn’t know- I didn’t-”

Geralt’s stammered speech tapers off into silence and Yennefer’s brow furrows a second time. When the sorceress sets eyes on the child, who cannot be more than twelve years old, her expression softens again. Jaskier watches the most imposing woman in the world kneel, taking one small, pale hand in both of her own. “My name is Yennever of Vengerberg, former Sorceress of Aretuza. I am honored to meet you, Princess Cirilla. Geralt has come seeking protection, no doubt, and it is easily granted. I will do everything I can to help you.”

“Thank you, Lady Yennefer. And, uhm… Ciri’s fine,” the girl replies. Her voice is high and reedy, shot through with anxiety. She’s so young, Jaskier frowns. And yet she seems to have weathered an incredible storm.

“Ciri,” the bard bows from the doorway, low and dramatic. He sweeps his arm out to the side and bends his knees as awkwardly as possible, “I am Jaskier, private troubadour and gardener extraordinaire, under the employ of the magnanimous and dangerous Lady Yennefer, here. It is my greatest honor to make your very mighty and very royal acquaintance.”

“You’re silly, Master Jaskier,” the child giggles, hiding her mouth behind her hands. Geralt’s eyes grow wide and dart between Jaskier and the girl. Yennefer makes meaningful eye contact before nodding toward the door. Jaskier looks down at Ciri again when she asks: “Do you grow lots of flowers in Lady Yennefer’s garden, or just herbs and things for magic?”

“I grow lots of things all over the property,” the brunette man steps forward and offers Ciri his hand, gesturing towards the front door with the other. “Would you like to come and take a look? I know all the scientific names, you can even quiz me if you like.”

“I know some,” she smiles shyly, accepting the offered hand. “May I go take a look at the gardens, Geralt?”

“Go ahead,” the Witcher nods dumbly. “Jaskier will take good care of you.”

“That I will. Now, let’s take a look at the flowers and let these silly adults have a chat,” Jaskier grins. He winks at Yennefer and disappears out the door, exiled Princess in tow.

The two lively companions have toured through all the medicinal herbs and are halfway through Yennefer’s large collection of rose variations when the two other members of the party approach. Geralt looks sheepish, his eyes downcast. Yennefer looks triumphant; she is radiant in her victory as always.

Geralt steps forward, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. “Jaskier, I’ve come to apologize for what happened when we parted.”

“Excuse me?” the bard chuckles, raising an eyebrow. "I don’t know what you’re apologizing for, exactly.”

“When I yelled at you after the dragon hunt. It was only two months ago, Jaskier, surely you remember?”

Jaskier blushes, glancing anxiously between Geralt and his friend, whose violet eyes are stormy with emotion, “I'm truly sorry, but I don't think we've ever met."

Geralt gasps sharply and takes a step back, as he did in the entryway. Jaskier winces, seemingly on instinct, and shies away from the larger man. “You don’t remember me?”

“No…” Jaskier sighs. “I really don't. Should I?”

“You don’t… You don’t even remember Toss a Coin?”

“Oh, that ditty from town?” Jaskier perks up. “I know that song! It always gets stuck in my head.”

“You… You wrote that song,” Geralt’s face crumples. “About our first adventure together outside of Posada. With the elves and the sylvan...”

“I’ve never been to Posada,” Jaskier laughs, waving his hand dismissively. “They hate bards. They prefer troupes of traveling play-actors. Posada is far too serious for my tastes.”

Geralt seems to be in agony. His chest rises and falls unevenly, as if he’s on the verge of tears but unable to shed them. Can Witchers cry?

How does he know that Geralt is a Witcher? Is it the two swords, the scars, or the strange eyes? How does he know that those are common Witcher traits?

His stomach lurches and he turns away from the group in case he needs to be sick. The ground spins and shivers in little ripples around him, unstable and impermanent beneath his feet. Yennefer is calling his name from somewhere far away and a pair of warm, strong arms are looped around his waist. Still, he can’t seem to breathe. Or focus.

There’s something missing.

He starts to hum, trying to remember the words of that damned song.

The rest of the world fades in and out around him, finally disappearing altogether.

---

He’s gorgeous.

Jaskier shoves another roll into his pocket. His eyes are focused on the man in the corner. He has long, snow-white hair and his shoulders are hunched forward protectively, as if he can hold the world out by sitting by himself. He’s glaring the table into submission, one fist clenched around his tankard.

I want to write him a thousand ballads. I want to know what his hair looks like when he wakes up in the morning, before he brushes it out again. I want to know if he snores. I want… he stops himself.

He makes his way across the room with eyes only for the stranger. “I love the way you just sit in the corner and brood.”

The man looks away and Jaskier notices that his irises are gold. “I’m here to drink alone.”

Gods, his fucking voice… Velvet and gravel all at once. Melitele, does Jaskier want. “Good, yeah. Good. No one else hesitated to comment on the quality of my performance… except for you.”

The man, the Witcher, Jaskier realizes, rolls his eyes.

“Come on,” he wheedles, sitting down across from the gorgeous stranger. “You don’t want to keep a man with bread in his pants waiting. You must have some review for me, three words or less.”

The man’s face stays stoic, expressionless. “They don’t exist.”

He realizes shortly thereafter that this man is not just any Witcher but the infamous Butcher of Blaviken, Geralt of Rivia. He could try to disengage himself from such a daunting character; he could easily make some kind of excuse and disappear back to the troubadour’s path, heading towards civilization, but it’s already too late. He doesn’t want to leave Geralt’s side ever again; he wants to write all those ballads he was thinking about earlier, when he glanced across the room.

Jaskier has fallen head over heels in love. ---

Geralt cradles Jaskier against his chest and presses his nose deep into those chestnut brown waves. “Wake up, Jaskier. Come back to me, bard, it’s been too long.”

“Don’t you usually go all winter without seeing him?” Yennefer asks from the doorway.

“It’s hell,” he replies easily. There’s no point in hiding his feelings from her. “I miss him every minute of every day.”

“Verbose this evening,” she remarks, taking a seat by the fire. “He’s dreaming, you know. He’s remembering you.”

“He’d forgotten?”

“He’d repressed it all,” she shrugs. “When I found him that day, feverish and nearly dead on the side of that godsforsaken mountain, he was barely coherent enough to open his eyes. He just kept asking for you, Geralt. Over and over he called for you, reaching his arms up, weak as they were. Gods, it was pitiful to watch.”

Geralt swallows.

“I thought you were going to come back sooner. I was surprised when his memories didn’t resurface after two or three weeks. Short-term memory loss after a fever isn’t uncommon but repressing twenty years worth of feelings and experiences-” she whistles lowly “-it was impressive and tragic, all at once.”

“He forgot me?”

“Entirely.”

Geralt glances down, shame-faced. He adjusts Jaskier in his arms, holding him close and pillowing the bard’s head against his shoulder. “I deserve it, Yen.”

“He’s remembering now, though. He’ll probably be a little less than pleased to see you when he wakes up, but he knows who you are.”

“When will he wake?”

“Can’t say,” she shrugs again. “After I brought him back from the mountain it took three days for him to wake up. The first day was magically induced but after that it was just him… exhausted and heartbroken to the point of self-induced amnesia.”

“Fuck, Yen,” Geralt groaned, pressing his forehead into the soft warmth of Jaskier’s cheek. “How can I make it up to him?”

“Stay.”

“Hmm?”

“When he wakes up and he’s angry and upset, stay. Don’t stomp off or blow up or freak out,” she instructs. “If he asks you to leave, go, but otherwise… prove yourself, Geralt of Rivia. You wanted to be a knight once, didn’t you? Now’s your chance to play Prince Charming. Get down on your lovely knees and beg and apologize.”

“Hmm. How’s Ciri?”

“Fed, bathed, and put to bed. I’ll take care of her for as long as it takes you two morons to make nice again. Good luck, Geralt, I’m sure he’ll forgive you too easily for my tastes.”

She stands from her seat and leaves just as efficiently as she entered, carefully closing the door behind her. Geralt lays Jaskier back on the bed and takes a seat beside him on the mattress, kneeling just within touching distance, should Jaskier reach out for reassurance in his sleep. Geralt closes his eyes and slips easily into meditation.

The Witcher is pulled from his trance a few hours later when Jaskier makes a startled sound and tries to sit up. Geralt opens his eyes and splays one warm, broad hand against Jaskier’s chest, forcing him back against the goose down pillows. “Stay still, Jaskier. You’re feverish and weak.”

“I’m still dreaming,” the bard grumbles, reaching to rub at his eyes with the heels of his hands. It’s adorable and Geralt grins widely, warmth spilling into his chest from some newly discovered fount of happiness. “You’re being too nice to me, Witcher.”

“I’m so sorry, Jaskier, for everything.”

“What’s everything, Geralt?”

“I’m sorry for pushing you away when I was angry and confused instead of communicating with you. I’m sorry for hurting you with my brash words and foolish actions; you have always deserved so much better and I’m so afraid that I can never give that to you. I take the wrong step at every turn, it seems, and yet you stay by my side. I didn’t want to risk hurting you the way I’ve already hurt Yen and Ciri, by tying us together against your will.”

“Darling Geralt,” the bard sighs. The Witcher scoots slightly closer and Jaskier lays a gentle hand atop his thigh. “It has always been my greatest pleasure to travel the Path with you and write of our adventures. I appreciate your concern for my agency and wellbeing, dear heart, but I am quite happy spending my entire human life in your presence.”

“Hmm,” the Witcher frowns. “You’re going to die someday.”

“And? So are you. So shall Yennefer, maybe.”

“Not likely,” Geralt jokes. Jaskier grins and the sight of it is so heartwarming that the Witcher wishes he could break down into tears. At least then Jaskier could see just how deeply his feelings ran. “I’m sorry, Jaskier, for blaming you for things that I brought upon myself. I love you dearly, and I hope that someday you can choose to travel with me again.”

“Excuse me?”

“I hope that you’ll-”

“No, the other bit.”

“I love you?”

“Yeah, that one.”

“Oh. Yes, I-” Geralt clears his throat and looks Jaskier in the eyes, gold and blue locked together, “I love you very much, Jaskier.”

“Fuck.”

“May I kiss you, Jaskier?”

“Yes,” the bard breathes.

And then Geralt is lifting him up into his lap, one hand cradling Jaskier’s skull so so fucking carefully. Geralt’s other arm supports his waist, holding him steady. Their lips come together softly, carefully, and Jaskier’s soul spirals up to the ceiling with joy, his body abandoned. He is merely a vessel for the happiness that comes with kissing his Witcher. When they pull apart, both men are grinning like fools. “Oh, dear heart.”

“Yes, my love?”

“Never stop calling me that.”

“I swear I won’t, my love.”

From downstairs, Geralt hears Yennefer mutter, “Fucking finally.”

It takes twenty-two years, seven months, and one day, but Geralt and Jaskier manage to figure things out.

#bounceacoinoffyouranons #geraskier #amnesia #amensiac jaskier #memory loss #rare species fix it #the witcher netflix #the witcher ficlet #geraskier fluff #angst with a happy ending #fluff and angst #whump with a happy ending #jaskier whump #yennefer #yen and jaskier are bitchy theatre bffs #and you can't stop me #anon you really got me fucked up

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chatsu · 3 years

Text

˗ˋ there you are

genre — angst, fluff (?) warning — mentions of death, grief words — 2,124

notes — it is 3:07 am, and i don't want to come up with a synopsis so, i shan't <3 this is my first writing post,, so uhh, please give me criticism !

violet chrysanthemum — unbearable pain at the thought of losing a loved one white chrysanthemum — reserved for sympathy and remembrance lyra — a constellation, which you can read more about here !

hugging his knees on the pavement, oikawa tooru couldn't help but overhear the faint chitter of loved ones greeting each other, serving as a reminder to why he was lamenting in the first place. a combination of heavy sobs and pleas of a miracle, he had grown used to, yet he still found the letters engraved on the cold stone in front of him almost foreign.

the anniversary of your death was fast approaching. caught in the fast lane of change, tooru has experienced almost every stage of grief. almost.

he remembers a shade of reddish brown framing your corpse. a metallic odour accompanied by tears burning every inch of his face, creating a sickly feeling in the back of his throat, which only multiplied as he released his frustration in the form of bargains.

' if only's ' and ' what if's ' his brittle voice had echoed — temporary truces, in which he begged and pleaded with every god and goddess known to the universe, in an attempt to negotiate his way out of this harsh reality.

from denial to anger, and from bargaining which soon melted into his current state of stark numbness in your absence. the past seemed more alive than the present.

stationed on the 4th, hazy reminders of a once living past seemed to obstruct his path of progression leading to the 5th and final phase of this grieving process that must inevitably follow. acceptance.

tooru is a competitive man. on the court, he is capable of adapting to new environments, examining their playing style, studying each and every player in a matter of seconds and having the ability to draw out their strengths — thus, blending into the team as if he was apart of the original line up.

yet, surrounded by this atmosphere of sorrow and anguish, he stuck out like a sore thumb. even after scrutinizing how others had dealt with this profound feeling of misery, their so called 'methods' were in vain, and he continued to suffer.

his fear of being second best, he now had no chance of overcoming. because as if in a race, tooru was exasperated, struggling to catch up with everyone else.

even the stars are lonely, but at least there were a multitude to keep company, and he couldn't help but envy them. your family, friends, hanamaki, matsukawa, hajime, even takeru had accepted the fact that you were gone, as they smiled fondly, memory sweet with you.

tooru could not remember the last time he smiled — a genuine one, that is. one that isn't plastered on when prompted with the constant ' how are you holding up? '. one that creeps up to his eyes to resemble a crescent moon. one with familiarity and love. one because of you.

the setting sun bathed everything in shades of lavender, painting the flowers propped beside your grave a colour he had wished they were. telling a tale of many consecutive days spent in this location, they bloomed brightly and never wilted away for they were regularly changed with a newer, hand picked bouquet. today, the flowers hadn't the ability to mock him, for today was different.

earlier, under what he thought were unfortunate circumstances, he was left stricken by the lack of purple petals accessible. left with no other choice, he let his fingers fumble along those coloured as snow instead. however, opting for these flowers proved to be difficult, as he realised he was breaking his routine.

because the shadow of the past still hung over, his fear of being second best soon morphed into a fear of change. a fear of everything changing. again, while he still had not adjusted to his scars wounded by time. it was nearing a year since tragedy struck. a year since that decisive moment of change.

but due to a sudden yet short lived act of bravery, tooru chose to cease sewing the seeds of habit, and as of right now, he found himself laying these flowers in their accustomed seat atop the gleaming stone. stems slightly compressed due to his secure grip, but petals remaining untouched. although both were chrysanthemums, the previous batches had been violet, and the current were white, simple as.

it is only when his nephew appears in his peripheral, he is snapped out of his trance, plastering a soft smile to veil his conflicting thoughts. hardly a word is spoken between them as takeru gently places an article of clothing on his lap, then is soon walking off.

leaving tooru with more questions than answers, his eyes shift downwards and widen at the sight of his old aoba johsai uniform folded ever so neatly. at an agonizingly slow pace, his slender fingers start to inspect every nook and cranny of the oversized — on you, not him — jersey. he holds it gingerly for this specific piece of fabric is a memory preserved.

and like a bridge to the past, tooru finds himself traversing along the nostalgic path, illuminated by memories time seemed to have dimmed.

as if the past is burned into his psyche, he still remembers the day you ignored him, well at least tried to.

though your actions were deemed fruitless, as you soon dropped your facade when he eventually caught up to you while you were walking home. mentally cursing yourself for your futile attempts at avoiding him, you had confessed that you were not in fact jealous, but curious as to why there were so many girls wearing his exact jersey. there was an attempt to stifle a laugh, yet one look at the stubborn pout on your face was all it took for tooru to burst out laughing.

"what is so funny?" you had tilted your head with a slight scowl painting your features.

impatiently tapping your foot, you waited for a response, but from his hunched figure and the smack! when he brought his hand to his knee was confirmation that his fit of laughter wasn't going to die out any time soon.

"oikawa" you had puffed, and the use of his last name was enough to get his attention, as he flicked an invisible tear off his face.

dramatically, with his hand latched onto his hip to form his signature stance, his free arm stretched out and squeezed your shoulders.

"they're not mine" he chuckled with a shrug and a smile — smug, yet genuine.

"listen tooru, i'm not dumb. you're the team captain right? the number 1's on the back practically mocked me!"

"may i ask, how many were there?"

"you mean how many were wearing your uniform? hmm i don't know, maybe every single girl i saw cheering?"

"yeah, and do you really think i'd have that many jerseys to give away? iwa-chan would be kicking my ass if i was constantly getting new jerseys!"

moments of silence passed and you figured that he was right, but your stubborn demeanour wasn't going to admit defeat that easily.

"i suppose that it would cost a lot of money, which you don't have, seeing as i was the one who had to pay for lunch yesterday. plus, you uhh, still seem as small as you were in first year so i assume you wouldn't need a change in size"

feigning a gasp, he clutched his heart and claimed that it was his turn to ignore you. snickering in response, he cupped your face and peppered it with kisses until he spoke up again.

"you know, ordering uniforms are pretty common for fangirls. buuut, you don't have to spend a single dime 'cause there's only one i'd like you to wear"

digging into his bag whilst motioning you to lift your arms up, he pulled out his aoba johsai jersey. he quickly put it on you and stood back, admiring how the cloth adorned you — no, how you adorned the cloth. this went on for a while, him staring at you in pure adoration, until his face lit up and he went back to fumbling in his bag.

"here! to fully establish that this is for you and you only, a limited edition, aoba johsai uniform, signed by the oikawa tooru" he beamed, placing the top of a permanent marker in between his teeth and biting the lid off.

his left hand found purchase on your waist as the other was in the midst of signing the front and back of your shirt with his signature. tooru being, well, tooru, he began to embellish the entire fabric in little hearts with ' tooru + y/n 's in large lettering, until he was interrupted by your arms outstretching and pulling him in for a hug. deciding against sulking about not getting to finish his oh so lovely drawings, he instead chose to reciprocate and nuzzle into your neck, basking in your warmth.

from then on, it was an essential garment to your outfits. yes, you were reluctant as the bright turquoise colour certainly did not match with everything, but ' you can pull off anything ' is what tooru had claimed. some fashion advice coming from the mf who wore plaid shorts <3

unlike the rest of your clothes in the closet collecting dust, it remained hung up on the handle, ready for use. from matches to study dates which later transitioned into sleepovers, he always complimented your attire in different ways as if it was your first time wearing it.

braiding his chocolate coloured locks, he lay on top of you, the back of his head on your stomach as he made an effort to mirror the rhythm of your breathing with every rise and fall of your chest.

after a lack of commentary, you noticed that he was not staring off into space, but rather the glow in the dark stars you had stuck up on your ceiling. deciding to take advantage, you extended your arm to switch off the lamp adjacent your bed, and while the light faded, the stars gathered overhead.

"oh - hurry up tooru, look! it's a shooting star, make a wish" you gushed, having one eye shut while the other awaited his reaction.

"come on now, you know i didn't bring my glasses with me today, hmph"

"no no, how does that saying go — you don't have to be able to see it to believe it! you're the one always saying those cliche quotes all the time"

".. angel, i'm sorry but this is all just a yellow blur to me. i really can't see anything"

huffing at his habitual use of endearment, you wrapped your hand around his wrist and straightened out his index finger to guide it towards the ' shooting star ' that had not moved from the centre of your ceiling.

"better?"

"much"

letting out a satisfied hum, you both closed your eyes, your conversation, but not your minds as they wished upon the faithful glints of gold which magnified the tranquility of it all.

you eased your grip around his wrist but he took this as an opportunity to interlock his fingers with yours. and with the stars winking from a pitch black sky, your wishes combined, and the soft squeeze of your hands, it was a silent promise that you would always be with each other.

perhaps it was the flower's slight change in hue which resulted in this caprice of fate, because for the first time, he finds himself recalling positive memories rather than remnants of your death.

and for the first time, tooru accepts. the unknown feeling envelops him, yet it does so with open arms, a welcoming smile, and no judgement.

the way he allows his tears dye the turquoise clothing a darker shade, he recognizes that he is no longer under the false pretence that all is well.

he need not question why the corners of his lips subliminally upturn, because as as he clutches this jersey, it's almost as if he is clutching you once more.

while the last stars still fleck the sky, he thanks those lucky stars, for it is you there with him, and he finds solace in your presence.

but this time, tooru isn't afraid to let go.

by no means does he intend to let go of you, no — never. but to let go of the affliction, pain, and instead have regard for the past in preparation for the future. in preparation for change.

and with his damp high school uniform, his smile that is heartful, and the lyra hanging heavy in the eastern sky, they all begin to coalesce into his former self.

the tooru who is not a genius. the tooru who underestimates his own strength, the tooru who overcomes adversity. the tooru, whom you are in love with.

and with the knowledge, and most importantly, acceptance, that you are no longer here with him physically,

oikawa tooru knows that wherever he goes, there you are.

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downywrites · 3 years

Text

Hello, bird is getting to everyone’s requests. Please hang on, your items will be delivered asap.

Enjoy this little drabble, beans! Love you all! /p

Ranboo(Lethe) gets a back massage from Nikki(Nemesis).

Nikki was very used to helping people when they needed it, regardless of whether or not they asked for her help or not. The smiles that lit up their face made the toil worth it, no matter how small or fleeting that smile was. She loved the feeling of love. Soft, warm, fluffy like the soft curves of her famous loaves of sweet bread. .But love was fleeting. Change was imminent. Soon, her soft, warm bread went from something akin to a gift to the people to something the people expected of her. The love she so desperately seeked drained from the place. She felt lonely in the crowd, a source of love that seemed to be infinite to the people who so desperately craved it. Soon, her love ran dry. She wasted away, feeling less and less whole every day. She lashed out, hurt people she didn’t want to hurt, made people cry when all she wanted was to make people’s tears run dry. All she ever wanted was love, full, mutual, trusting love. But there was none where she searched. All of her ventures left her beaten and broken, forcing her to return to the land where bombs and bows were the norm, not the exception. Where swords were drawn over the slightest encroaching of anyone’s boundaries. Where blood moistened the ground more than pure, fresh water. She was tired of it.

So she left.

She cast aside her name during the bloodshed she was forced to cause, forced to enable, in order to end the never ending cycle that the people followed. She cast aside the memories, the thoughts of love and warmth and cookies, for the sake of the iron tang of blood and victory, the feeling of accomplishment and rush she felt when she rode into battle. She cast aside her old baker’s apron for one that she washed nightly to rid it of the tears and blood of her enemies.

She rose again from the ashes of the baker’s oven, wings of fire and fury glowing like hot coals rebirthed sprouting from her back. In her ex-friend’s eyes, she was a monster. She was terrifying, something too wild to tame and too strong and smart to fool. But, to her allies, she was a powerful creature, a person so strong, she could fell an entire army with a single sword and a burning, all consuming rage.

That didn’t mean she didn’t remember her past, though.

She sat on the windowsill of the stronghold they had been calling their home, wind whistling by her ear as she stared at the twinkling, shimmering stars. Her teammates had built in above and below ground, making sure that the area was fully protected from any attacks made by the enemy groups of the government. Her gossamer cape flowed behind her, sunset-orange and beautiful against the dark clothes she wore to blend in with the environment, at least a little. She adjusted her glasses to look closer at a certain cluster, before penning down a general shape in a small notebook beside her. The wind played with her hair and the pages of the notebook, making her clutch the pages tightly as particularly strong breezes racked the area. Her bleached hair fluttered slightly into her face, making her shift her face to the side a little. She huffed in slight annoyance at the disruption in her work, but continued to map out a general shape of the stars. Nibbling at the end of the quill, she dipped its tip into a well of blood red ink, careful not to get any on the stones. No need to make Techno lose any sleep. Nikki heard the sound of claws scraping against the hewn stone bricks, tensing up instinctually. The footsteps stopped almost immediately, giving her good reason to think of a few specific people up at such an ungodly time.

“Hmm, is that Ranboo or Techno up at this time? I don’t think any other hybrids would be up so late- er, so early.” She patted the side of the area not covered by her parchment and work. “Take a seat, dear. Star-gazing can help take your mind off of things.” A enderspeak-warbled voice echoed behind her. “I would, but...my muscles hurt a lot, and...I guess it kept me up?” Ah, Ranboo. He didn’t seem like much to most people, but the Syndicate saw his worth the second the man teleported in and out of one of the most respected facilities and grabbed Dream’s mask from the top of the pedestal, all without tripping off a single trap. (Granted, he forgot why he needed it in the first place, and tried to keep it for himself due to his confusion with the object once he came back. They still counted it as a win.) Even then, Ranboo was not a threat, no matter how hard he tried.

Nikki sighed, soft voice hinting a slight smile. “Oh? Muscles are hurting? Now that’s a first.” She turned around, looking into the shadows to look for the slightest bit of off-white. A shift in the left side of her eyes made her focus on the spot, trying to see the enderman through the inky blackness without making him startle. Ranboo immediately backtracked. “D-don’t worry about me, though. It’s not your problem- I’m so sorry for intruding on your peace, I’ll just see myself out.” He backed away, slowly losing his shape in the shadows. “Wait, Lethe.”

Ranboo went stock still in the depths of the darkness. “I can give you a massage. I used to do that for people back in L’manberg! Besides, I needed to stop focusing on those silly clumps for a tiny bit, anyways.” She swung her legs onto the floor, scuffing her shoes on the cold, icy ground. She winced at the change in temperature, already wishing for the semi-warm winds of the nearby desert again, but she ignored the nagging wish in favor of flicking the nearest lever to her person. The lights flickered on, casting the whole hallway in a burst of warm, soft lighting, Even though the lights were relatively dim, both Nikki and Ranboo winced, shielding their eyes from the piercing white flash.

“Ow.”

Once the ivory light dimmed to a soft, gentle color, Nikki gently grabbed the enderman’s arm, careful not to grab at his fragile claws. The bi-colored hybrid yelped, eyes still trying to focus on the shape in front of him. “H-hey!”

Nikki didn’t even glance back at the stumbling man. “I found Phil’s grooming area a while ago. I think we can use that to massage your muscles in some nice positions, okay? I won’t slam you into a wall, trust me.”

From the way Ranboo’s slitted pupils flicked to the side, he wasn’t too sure, but he followed along anyways. Nikki stifled a giggle at the semi-nervous look on the obviously taller person. What does he have to be afraid of? It’s just her. She steered the two of them into a large, softly-styled room.

Dimming the lights as to make it more comfortable for the enderman hybrid, she tugged her ally onto the cushioned platform in the middle. She glanced around, scanning for items she could use to relax his muscles. Dozens of tools lay scattered all over the soft, padded floor. She walked slowly over to one specific pile, feet bouncing slightly off of the bouncy fabric on the floor as she did so. `Kneeling down carefully, as to not aggravate her own sore muscles, she picked up a few tools she deemed were useful to her endeavor.

From across the room, Ranboo’s tail swished nervously from side to side, almost afraid of the shadows of her figure dancing in the light of the redstone-powered lamps. “A-are you sure we’re allowed to be in here?” Small warbles of fear laced his voice. Nikki sighed patiently. “Yes, it’s fine.” She returned to his side, guiding him onto his back. The enderman hybrid vwooped quietly, eyes flitting back and forth on the objects he could still see. “You’re sure we can do this. Like, really, really sure?” She didn’t even reply to that one, rolling her eyes from behind him.

That was one thing she never could understand about the boy. He could literally kill anyone he wanted with his claws, tear muscle and flesh apart like it was nothing. He could claw and bite and scratch until all around him were bloody and broken from his onslaught. He could simply screech, and nobody would be able to stand long enough to get in his way.

Yet he didn’t.

Ironically, and almost eerily like her, he loved to make people happy. He stumbled over himself to keep others safe and satisfied, even injuring himself badly to create a new axe for techno when his went missing. He loved his people, even when they failed to love him back. He kept on giving and giving, just like her. Yet he persevered in it. She almost wanted to ask him how he did it. She could, if she wanted to. He was right there, in front of her. If she could only open her mouth to ask.. No. She turned her head away slightly. “Nikki?” She turned back to see him glancing back at her, heterochromatic eyes slitting with worry. “Is something wrong? I can get up, if you want me to. I’m so sorry for bother-”

“No!..I mean, no, don’t leave. It’s okay, I just had...a flashback, of sorts.” Ranboo nodded, head movements limited by his positioning on the cushion. She moved closer, tools lying on the side of the table beside the cushion. A part of her wanted to ask where they came from. Did she do that? Prime if she knew. She was too tired to think about it, too tired to notice that she didn’t place it there herself. Nikki slowly started rubbing the backs of her hands against the tense muscles on the enderman’s shoulders, moving in small circles as she did so. As she put more and more pressure on the taut muscles, they began to relax under her careful eye. The effort it took to make just the tops of his shoulders relax was monumental for the smaller warrior, but the sighs of relief from Ranboo made it all worthwhile to her. She smiled slightly, empathetic side of her soaking in a similar amount of happiness. Her arms moved downwards of their own accord. She let her muscle memory do the talking, allowing her mind to wander away. In a haze of softened focus and the sweet, sweet scent of chorus fruit wafting in the air, she bathed in the calmness and the warmth of the situation.

It was almost pleasant to feel the boy’s muscles give way underneath her. Almost, being the key word. The slight amounts of pressure she had to keep on Ranboo at all times to keep him from teleporting away was the only thing keeping her grounded. All the same, she enjoyed his company. He never really spoke much outside of small, casual conversations, leading to comfortable stretches of silence between them. Personally, Nikki loved it. If she could, she’d love to have the team lounge about together. She knew it would be the most quality time she would ever get with a group of people who respect her for more than her baked goods. Nevertheless, she knew it was nigh impossible. When one side of the team was awake, the other was asleep. When all of them were around, they would all be in separate rooms. When they were all in the same place, they always had to go out to get new supplies, or fight off another horde of fools. Nikki longed to have more time with them, but… thus was their life. She-they chose it. She wouldn’t trade it for the world, even though there were a great many downsides to- “Ah- Nihikki!”

Nikki snapped back into focus, worry coloring her words. “Oh, I’m so sorry! Did I hurt you?” His tail curled around her arm, wagging slightly. Wait, wagging? She pushed gently at the spot that elicited the reaction, getting a similar squeak and a giggle. Oh. Nikki processed the information for a moment more, before snapping back to attention again. “Ranboo, are you, by any chance, ticklish?” Ranboo’s whole body froze, even his tail. “U-Uhhh….Would you believe me if I said no?” She tutted slightly. “Hmm, no, I don’t think so.” She moved her hands lower, delighting in the fact that the enderman had to bite his lip in order to keep all of the giggles in. His ears and tail flicked slightly, broadcasting how much he actually enjoyed it, even though he tried to protest every time she slowed down her testing for even a moment. “Why are you hiding you little giggles? I just want you to be happy, little enderboo!” At the nickname, the poor boy melted, small little warped giggles escaping. She stopped massaging in favor of lightly scratching all over his back, giggling softly herself when she felt his tail wiggle slightly because of the change. “Coochie coo, cutie pie! Giggle for me, dearie!” Ranboo couldn’t hold it in anymore. His giggles increased in volume and in pitch as she scratched at his lower back, tail unwinding and wagging from side to side in mirth. “Ehihihi! Nihihikkihihi!”

She cooed softly at him, enjoying his flustered whimpering and high-pitched giggles that starkly contrasted the low, deep voice her ally normally had. She found it even more endearing that, even though she couldn’t see the whole of his face, she knew that he was flushed a deep plum all over his cheeks and ears. “What’s the matter, Ranboo? Are you okay? You look a little...plum, if I may!” Ranboo groaned through his laughter. “Nihihikki! Nohoho puhuhuns…” “Oh, no Punz, you say? Of course there’s no Punz! You think that greedy pink piggy would want to come out to see us at this time of night?” At that, Ranboo’s squirming increased, forcing Nikki to pin him down further into the cushion with one of her hands. “You know, if you keep struggling like this, I may have to bring out the heavy-duty tools.” Ranboo shuddered violently, blush deepening at her words. “Unless, of course, you can keep your arms up for me~” She rolled him over, careful not to tense up the relaxed muscles by moving him around violently

. As his deep purple blush was revealed to the cooing baker, Ranboo’s hands twitched, having to fight the urge to simply curl up into a little duochromatic ball and avoid all contact from the other in a bid to keep his last shreds of dignity intact. But Nikki’s command, albeit concealed by soft, loving almond eyes and a sugar-sweet tone, was final, and he knew it. He chose to turn his head to the side instead, ears twitching madly in equal parts embarrassment and joy. Nikki took a step back from the cushion, looking down at her feet to avoid the enderman’s swishing tail. Watching to make sure her little victim didn’t escape while her back was turned, she picked up a small set of preening tools, all intended for other purposes. She would have to make do; after all, most people didn’t have a set of perfect grooming tools for the soft, almost silky fur of an enderman hybrid such as Ranboo.

Especially not him himself. No, that altruistic enderman refused to take care of himself. He refused to take dust baths or lava baths, saying that it was ‘too much to ask’ of them to give him some sand or a fire resistance potion (and some privacy). He refused to use Phil’s preening brushes, insisting that ‘enderman fur don’t get as gunked up as wing feathers’. Yeah, right. Even as she moved back towards the trembling, whimpering hybrid, she knew that brushing his fur would be a real challenge. The only way she was going to get the whole of his back and sides, along with his legs and tail, would be with his full cooperation. And boy, even though he could be a real pushover, he somehow always ended up refusing help at the very last minute, She sighed, resigning herself to a very, very long night.

Haha I just speedran this fic feeling good :3

#dsmp tickle #mcyt tickle #lee!ranboo #ler!nikki #My writing #downywrites #i am trying to get through my inbox :3 #tickle fic #sfw tickling

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closetedotaku01 · 4 years

Note

Umm could you write something for Tsukishima, Kenma, Kuroo, Iwaizumi with fem! reader who is very touch starved? (if you don't write for that many just pick whoever stands out the most) SFW please.

TOUCH STARVED FEM S/O

A/N: First off: excellent character choices for this! Secondly, thank you so much for requesting so sweetly. Such a kind ask. Thank you thank you. Especially since none of my work is public yet, I really appreciate you trusting an unknown author. I hope you have a lovely day. Finally, I’ve struggled a lot with touch starvation so this feels very close to me. Got a bit self-indulgent. I felt bad because there was no dialogue in the base writing for Kenma & Tsukki so they kinda get HC+ while Iwa’s and Kuroo’s are just standard hc’s. Info on touch starvation at the end if you want it.

TSUKISHIMA KEI

-Tsukishima is smart and perceptive.

-So it doesn’t take long for him to realize that you’re touch starved.

-He sees how you simultaneously shy away from any physical affection while clearly wanting some. Sees how anxious you are and how easy it is for you to get overwhelmed. Takes note of how you alway seem to be holding yourself, and often wear clothes that are heavy and cover your whole body.

-He does not like the situation.

-He knows what you need, but he’s not big on physical affection and not very comfortable initiating it.

-But he is soft for you…. so he’ll pull it together just for you. He starts holding onto you more in public. An arm around your waist, your shoulders, his hand in yours, always giving you something.

-The first dozen or so times it happens you show clear panic at the touch, but he doesn’t even flinch. He’s confident with touching you, and wants you to know he’s here and you can do no wrong.

-When you two are alone together, he’ll pull you into him a lot more than he would have otherwise. He WILL pull you closer to him when you sit far away.

-But he can tell you’re just having a day where you cannot handle it and on days like that he always leaves his body open so you have the chance to cuddle him if you want it, but he makes his actions smaller and quicker so as not to overwhelm you.

-Eventually you start hugging him freely, and he reciprocates just enough. Your arms wrapped tight around his waist, and he lets his arms fall onto your shoulder. It’s hardly a hug, but he rubs your back and has a hand in your hair. It sends sweet tingles of happiness throughout your body.

-You hum lightly at the contact and it’ll force him to pull you in closer.

-Tsukki is very knowing. He encourages a safe and loving environment so you stop feeling afraid to ask for affection. He actually really enjoys when you’re needy, because he can get pretty needy too.

-And if you want to talk about your touch starvation, he’ll listen. But he’s fine just giving you what he can offer. He knows you and just wants you to feel more comfortable.

~~~~~

Your whole body is on edge and you don’t quite know why or how, but everything is setting you off. The blanket on your legs is sending fire-like shivers through your body, the heater keeps playing with your hair and it’s making everything feel warm inside you.

You look over to Kei, who’s just enjoying the film. You were the one who sat far away, though now you wish you were laying on him instead of curled up against the arm rest. But his arms and legs are open wide, and despite this he’s sat up pretty straight. You like being able to see his whole body so open. His face looks relaxed, and the blue light from the TV makes all of him… glow. His glasses, the prominent features of his face, his tousled locks, all lit up and beautiful as ever. It honestly just feels like more temptation, his whole body is open and glowing like a checkpoint in a videogame and you desperately feel the urge to just crawl into him.

Kei’s voice startles you, but he doesn’t even look away from the screen, “Are you going to come over here, or are you just going to stare all night?” You see him open his arms out wider and you jump at the chance. You curl yourself into his side, letting the scent of his body and the feel of him in your arms ease the anxiety, ease the ache for contact. He’s a bit cold so you pull your blanket over the both of you as you let your head fall to his chest, your arm thrown over his midsection, one of your legs thrown over one of his. You’re practically clinging onto him.

You feel panic well up in you at the contact. It’s too much contact and you shouldn’t be so desperate and--

Kei’s arm falls around your back, pulling you closer gently. He lets his fingers trace your spine up and down, up and down. Your mind relaxes. He lets his hand drift down as he starts rubbing small circles into your lower back, and your muscles lose their tension. You’re not clinging. You’re not desperate. You’re with Kei. And you’re wanted. You know he wouldn’t have you here, if he didn’t want you here. And everything eases. You return your eyes to the movie, but your attention is solely the steady cadence of his heart in your ear as he holds you.

Kozume Kenma

-Another basically wordless adjustment.

-Kenma is also very aware of you. Sees you as a challenge for him to understand and is always studying you and what makes you happy and how to cheer you up depending on what’s bothering you. He just loves to know you.

-And so it doesn’t take very long at all for him to figure it out.

-He notices your little movements. How you stare so intently at physical affection among others as if you wish you were apart of it. But you never ask for or initiate it.

-How when you do cuddle with him you get remarkably clingy and hold tight, but if he moves even slightly you pull away almost completely.

-His way of going about this is also pretty subtle.

-Kenma will start sitting with his legs open, and tell you to sit between them, and then he’ll put his head on your shoulder, wrap his arms around you, and play a game in front of you. It’s very much full body contact, without you feeling like you’re under scrutiny, and he’s holding you so you know he wants you there.

-He’s also sure to give you his jackets because he knows heavier clothing simulates human touch and helps people with touch starvation.

-When he sees you staring at people in public who’re being affectionate, and sees that want and confusion in your eyes, he’ll pull his hood down over his face (so he doesn’t have to deal with other people staring) and hold your hand. If he can see you need it, he’ll bring his body close to yours so you’re basically against each other, side by side.

-When you two go out to nice places with friends and he can see you getting touch starved he’ll place his hand in your lap and let you play with his fingers. Tracing his palm and up his forearms a bit. It actually relaxes his nerves a bit too and he learns to love this so much.

-If you ever bring it up he’ll listen, but he never really asks.

~~~~~

Kenma’s been on the floor playing Animal Crossing on the television since you arrived. You didn’t mind. You liked having lazy conversations with him about your day or his town, or scrolling through Instagram with the calming soundtrack in the background.

Like always he sat with his controller in hand as the game was projected on the TV, back against the bedpost, while you laid on the bed. But today is getting to you. You really want to feel his skin against yours, or steal the hoodie he’s wearing, or play with his hair. Anything would do. But you don’t want to come off clingy. Or worse to put Kenma off since you know he likes his distance.

He looks back at you and you give him a weak smile and he immediately stands up.

“Come here. I want to play Smash instead,” Kenma says as he pulls his switch out of the charger.

“I don’t really want to play right now Kenma. I’m pretty tired,” you say as you watch him change out the game cartridge and slip the controllers onto the side of the Switch.

“Just…. Come here, y/n,” he says almost exasperated as he returns to his spot on the floor near the bedpost. You sit down next to him and he immediately repositions himself behind you, and wraps his arms around you. He puts his arms around your waist and pulls you closer to him before repositioning them around your arms, and placing his chin on your shoulder.

You’re immediately overwhelmed by the feeling of him. The way his body encases you. You feel safe and filled, overflowing with the contact you felt bereft of only moments ago. You took a deep breath in before leaning farther back into him and letting yourself enjoy all that Kenma was willing to give you.

Kuroo Tetsurō

-Ahh finally a vocal boy. My goodness.

-Kuroo is such an observant guy and he knows a bit about touch starvation.

-He didn’t know at first that it was diagnosable or anything. But he was generally aware of what it was.

-But you’ll be chilling at his place and he’ll be lying on his stomach writing something in a notebook and you’ll be sitting against the headboard, his feet by your thighs scrolling through your phone or reading or something. He put on some music and you’re just enjoying each other’s company.

-And then he’ll say something along the lines of, “We should set up boundaries.”

-“Wait, what?”

-“Well, I know you’re not… super comfortable with me yet. And I don’t want to push you into anything you don’t like. But the “line” doesn’t feel very defined.”

-His words are so casual. He hasn’t even looked up from whatever he’s doing, but it doesn’t make much sense. He’s one of the people you’re most comfortable around.

-“Tetsurō, what are you talking about?” and you’re sounding a bit exasperated even though you’re just confused.

-He finally raises his head. He turns to you and sits up, cross-legged. His words are slow and uncertain, “Well like … earlier when we were walking around I… I held your hand and you flinched. And when we met up you came over and gave me a hug, but once I hugged you back you kinda pulled away. It’s fine, I just… want to know what to do to make sure you’re comfortable.”

-And you’re pretty impressed he even noticed because they were all slight movements. But you get a bit anxious. You know he’s a pretty affectionate guy, and this would definitely be a barrier. And it’s your barrier. It’s not his job to fix it and--

-“Get out of your head,” he whispers calmly as he sees the turmoil and paranoia fighting in your eyes.

-He sees straight through you. He knows all too well how you can get.

-So with a deep breath you slowly tell him about touch starvation and your personal journey with it.

-He is deeply curious, but he’ll judge how you’re feeling.

-If you’re not doing great he’ll just nod and remind you that whatever you’re feeling is valid and it doesn’t change anything between the two of you. He’ll sit next to you, leaving a slight gap, and ask if you want to get close to him and take it from there. Asking quietly if he can advance or whatever it is that you need from him.

-If you’re fine with it he’ll ask you questions about when and how and where your personal boundaries are for now and what would make you feel more comfortable and help you grow out of it. And what he should do if you were not in a great mental place. Should he rush in and completely wrap you up in affection? Or should he give you space? He wants to know how to care for you, because he…. Cares so much for you.

-Regardless, of how the rest of that day plays out, he does loads of research on touch starvation. He learns everything he can about it. Takes note of everything he can do to help and common methods that do more harm than good so he doesn’t accidentally make things worse.

-He makes sure to ask you and check in with you before touching you and for the first WHILE that you’re together will interrupt cuddles to ask how you’re feeling. Reminds you constantly that he loves you and that whenever, if ever, you want (or need) touch you can go to him. And if he’s ever being too much he won’t be hurt if you ask him to back up. Makes sure to know how to handle people who are too touch-y for you without making a whole big scene.

-He really just wants to be there for you and have you trust him.

-As time goes on in the relationship he learns to read your tells without asking so much and you grow to need less time away from him, and being able to fully enjoy more of the time you spend closely snuggled up to him.

Iwaizumi Hajime

-Definitely the least observant out of this group (but we still love him). So he doesn’t really notice.

-And he doesn’t care much one way or another for physical affection. So he won’t really offer it if he doesn’t think you’re into it. And since you don’t really initiate, he doesn’t either. He thinks you don’t really want it so he lets it slide because he doesn’t care much.

-It takes a good long while, but eventually you start feeling completely comfortable around him, and he notices how you’ll be more needy. More physically affectionate in short and infrequent bursts.

-And so he reciprocates. Calling you over more often to hang out alone, with you close by his side, offering the slightest bit more PDA.

-But it’s still very limited.

-You eventually realize you have to have a conversation with him about it. He’s on his laptop, but he’s not doing anything important so you decide to do it now while he’s relaxed and at home so it doesn’t have to turn into some big thing.

-“Hajime?”

-“Yeah?” He asks only half paying attention.

-“Can I tell you about something… it’s kinda important.”

-He immediately swivels around to face you, “Yeah sure. What’s up? Is everything okay?”

-You steady yourself and do your best to clear your thoughts and casually bring up touch starvation and calmly explain the bare minimum about how it is and how it affects you and how you would appreciate it if he initiated the actions. And how it’s totally normal if you flinch or shy away at first, but you want to adjust because you do like being close to him.

-And he’s so chill about it.

-“Okay. Do you want to cuddle right now?”

-“Uhhh-- y-yeah. Sure. Are you okay with this all? I know it can be a lot to take in. You can ask questions or take your time or---”

-He cuts you off by taking your hand in his as he guides you to the bed to cuddle, “I love all of you. Even like this. And until you get better. So just let me hold on to you for a little while.”

-And he lets you curl up into him and is very gentle, but firm and steady with his touch. He doesn’t pull away at your sharp movements when his hands meet your side. He just make sure his touch is gentle and lets you enjoy the closeness.

-As time goes on he might ask a few questions to keep everything comfortable and make sure he’s aware of you and knows how to care for you in most situations. If he doesn’t he’ll ask quietly, and say that he’s willing to go home with you any time you feel overwhelmed.

-Iwaizumi is extremely loyal and careful with you and your needs and only wants the best for you. His loyalty and unwavering commitment to you are what help you eventually feel comfortable enough to either ask for what you need or just get it.

-You feel free to approach and cuddle him without asking or pull away without asking, because he gets you and he loves you and you know that. You taking action to care for yourself won’t change that.

Some Info on Touch Starvation:

I read a lot of touch starvation fics/hc’s when I was really going through it and they all had the touch starved person acting super clingy. Which CAN happen, but that’s usually only at the beginning of the condition only. In my own experience with touch starvation, physical contact actually gave me anxiety and panic attacks, and I became completely touch averse for a very long time before I slowly worked toward a healthier lifestyle.

Touch starvation leads to a lack of oxytocin (which is released when there’s skin on skin contact. It’s a social hormone often referred to as the “love” or “cuddle” hormone) and that can lead a person to feel very stressed and restless, so most touch starved people end up not accepting touches or shying away from touch and don’t really want to ask for it because they think they don’t want it.

A lack of oxytocin also leads to: a higher sensitivity to pain, feelings of isolation, depression, anxiety, and it makes you more prone to develop an eating disorder, clinical depression and/or anxiety, and fibromyalgia .

There are a lot of ways to deal with touch starvation, even if there are not people around you (pets, heavy clothing, warm showers, going to hair/nail salons regularly, etc. can all help get or simulate the contact you need.) Some of this is harder because of Covid, but please take care of yourself if you think you might be touch starved! It’s actually a serious condition and should be treated as such.

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