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scarletttries · 1 year

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Roman Roy (Succession) Fluff Alphabet

Pairing: Roman Roy (Succession) x Reader

Rating: Pure Fluff

Word Count: 4.9k

Author's Note: thank you so much to the lovely person in my inbox that requested the Fluff alphabet for Roman, you are an absolute genius 😍 this boy is crying out for 26 affectionate letters and here they are! Thank you to everyone else who has sent in Roman and Kendall requests during the new season, I am working through them ☺️♥️

a - affection (how affectionate are they? how do they show affection?)

Affection is hard for Roman Roy. He needs it, he craves it, he looks at you with sad, longing eyes until he gets it. And then when you wrap him in your arms, and pull him into your lap, letting your lips rest against his forehead ever so softly...he withdraws. He makes a quip and he's halfway across the room, panicking about the possible display of weakness, and steeling himself never to do that again. Until an hour later his head is slowly lowering onto your shoulder again and the cycle continues.

It will take months in your relationship before he finally lets himself just be held, and starts to initiate it himself; bringing his hand gently to the side of your face, brushing his thumb over your cheek while he leans in for a kiss, ignoring the warning bells going off in his head and just enjoying that he gets to do his with you. And how nice it is when you smile and kiss him right back.

b - beauty (what do they admire about their s/o? what do you think is beautiful about them?)

Roman thinks you are the most beautiful person he's ever seen, not because of the way you look, although he loves every inch of you, but because of who you are. The patience you have when he doesn't know how to do something simple because he was never taught. The warmth in your smile when he makes a dumb joke that makes him desperate to think of another. The way you move around him is calm and gentle, and every touch is soft, and no matter what, he never feels scared around you. Not even for a second. In fact when he looks into your kind eyes and you offer him a soft, warm hand, he feels truly safe. And for that you are a true vision of beauty, like a real life angel come to save his wretched soul and lead him to salvation.

c- cuddles (do they like to cuddle? how would they cuddle?)

d - dates (what are dates with them like? do they plan them out or are they spontaneous?)

Once the initial back and forth of trying to accept your affections is over, Roman will be big on cuddling you. Only ever in private, but he will practically collapse into your arms at every possible chance, losing the use of his spine the second you both settle down on his huge designer sofa, laying over the top of you so he can hear your heart beat with his ear to your chest, a constant grounding reminder that you're real and you're here with him. Run your fingers through his slicked back hair and rub gentle circles on his back and you've got a personal heated blanket for life. In public Roman is much less obvious with his affections, having to settle for leaning his shoulder subtly against yours for reassuring contact, hand trembling with anticipation the whole time.

e - ending (if they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Not one for planning, dates with Roman would definitely be on the spontaneous side, and honestly probably a little weird to start with. He's never really 'dated' before, usually relying on Roy family events and galas to act as occasions to bring his 'plus ones' to. But with you he wants to do this for real, so he reluctantly asks Tom where he took Shiv on dates before 'their marriage imploded killing thousands.' He'll try the usual spots like museums, galleries, restaurants, constantly asking you what he's supposed to do next like he's missing something while you walk around together. Eventually you'll show him how it's done, setting up a blanket fort with movies and take-out in your humble apartment and teaching him that the only thing that matters about a date is that you get to spend some time comfortably together.

f - fiancée (how do they feel about commitment? how quick would they want to get married?)

Roman's the type of guy to overact to the smallest fight, make a cutting comment and then saying it's over, charging out the door before the other person can fathom a reply. He'd no doubt grow to regret his hasty decision after a while, but feel like going back would be showing weakness, resigned to moving on with his life. Luckily he knows you are far too important to risk losing, so even when he's desperate to slam the door and run away, he makes himself stay, knowing he never wants you to be someone he has regrets about.

g - gentle (how gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

It would start with a comment from Connor after he's seen you with Roman at a few family functions, about how happy he seems with you, and how 'he didn't think his little bro would ever settle down, but to let him know when he needs the number of a good wedding planner.' Roman would panic at first, brushing him off with a sick joke about how he likes to 'live in more sin than Connor could imagine', and spiralling with the thought that everyone's expecting him to get married any day now, including you. He'd turn the thought over in his head while hiding in one of a hundred mansion bathrooms, feeling suffocated and left adrift at the same time. Like he has no choice but to ask soon because it's what's expected even if he doesn't want to, while also desperate to give you a ring that very second in case you think he never will and that'll make you leave him. After 15 minutes of hyperventilating on the toilet, Roman emerges from the bathroom to find you loitering down the hall. The second you give him that kind, reassuring smile and ask if everything's okay, he knows he's going to ask you, not because he should but because he wants more than anything for you to always look at him that way. It'll take him a while to build up to it, but he'll know pretty soon that it's only a matter of time.

h - hugs (do they like hugs? how often do they do it? what are their hugs like?)

Roman is simply the softest boi. A lifetime of being his family's punching bag mean he never wants anyone else to feel that way, so every feather-light touch will be delivered with a shaking hand, whether he's carefully steering you through a crowded room so you can both get safely to a quiet moment together, or he's caressing your arm before leaning in for a surprisingly sweet kiss. Aside from the obligatory snarky comments, he's gentle with his words too, going out of his way to thank you for the slightest favour, the tell you how nice it feels when you praise him, when you touch him, to always let you know that he's thinking about you, even when his head is full of Roy family toxic waste. Be sweet to Roman, the first true act of kindness he's ever really received, and you will get a kind, soft, sweet boy in return, whose been waiting his entire life for the chance to freely show this softer side of him.

i - injury (how would they act if they got hurt?)

You can tell Roman grew up touch starved and alone because every time you hug him he stands there, rigid as a board for a spilt second and then melts into your arms like he's been waiting for that feeling his whole life. Like with his need to cuddle, he's all over you at the end of a long day, collapsing into your arms, or pulling you on top of him to feel like he's offering that loving comfort back to you. His hugs are always long and slow, bodies entwining as much as possible, limbs wrapping around you until you can't escape his grip if you try, the comforting teddy for a wounded inner child.

When Roman gets hurt, no matter how accidental it may be, it's truly heartbreaking. The second you start to fuss and check he's okay, and apologise if it was you who slightly knocked him, he shuts down, withdrawing in on himself and turning all his pain inwards. He'll tell you it's fine, it's all his fault, he was in the way, you were right to hit him, he was being annoying, he's the one who should be apologising. It'll take a long time to slowly teach him that he never deserves to get hurt, and that he can accept your help safely, you're not going to tease him or make it worse, that it's all going to be okay. One day Roman will come crawling to you for help when he's not feeling well and it will take everything in your power not to cheer and cry with pride as you wrap him in a blanket and steer him back to bed.

j - jealousy (how jealous do they get? what do they do when they’re jealous?)

When you're hurt or injured I'm afraid Roman's useless. He's upset, he's overwhelmed, and you have to calm him down and give him very simple instructions if you need his help, praising him for each favour and telling him he's doing a good job at looking after you when he takes 45 minutes to successfully make a cup of tea.

k - kisses (what are their kisses like? where do they like to be kissed?)

Jealous Roman isn't loud or angry or the kind to make a scene. No, the first time he feels the green-eyed monster weighing down on his shoulders at some Waystar Christmas party, you the centre of attention for the half the fellas in the office, he just feels hollow. Despondent even. Like he was stupid for ever thinking he'd be able to keep you interested, that you wouldn't get a hundred better offers and realise you deserve better than the runt of the pack. By the time you see him skulking off down a corridor out the corner of your eye, he's all but resigned to you leaving here without him, feeling like he's nothing until you chase him down the hall, shouting his name with a cheerful tone that stings his heart even worse. He'd throw out some snarky line about' how he didn't think you'd notice him slip out through the fuckboy posse holding you hostage.' You'd laugh, but see the hurt underneath it, taking his hand in yours and asking if he's ready to get out there, or if he wants to go back in the main room and get inappropriately handsy with each other where everyone can see. He'll always choose to slip away quietly, but he wouldn't mind if a few of the guys from the office notice you two leave together.

l - love language (what is their love language?)

It took a long time for Roman to really ever want to kiss someone, so it still takes him a little by surprise when he has the overwhelming urge to feel your lips against his. At first his movements are awkward, his arms straight by his side as he presses his mouth a little too firmly against yours. Over time, you help him relax into it, letting your fingers rest at the nape of his neck and slowly moving your lips against his, letting him savour the taste of you and gradually chase each movement at his own leisurely pace. Once he gets the hang of it expect to constantly find him pulling your hips against his and cupping your face to gently bring your lips together, his tongue dancing over yours until you have no choice but to break for air, his eyes soft and loving as you pull your head away, knowing it won't be long until he needs to feel you close again.

I think the big two for Roman would be Acts of Service and Physical Touch. I think he's not gonna care that much about gifts given he's never really wanted or needed anything he couldn't get immediately, and he's constantly being lied to and manipulated, so just saying nice things doesn't affect him as much as truly showing him. He loves your quality time together, but the right five minutes with you can completely turn his day around.

For Physical touch it's already been covered, but give his hand a squeeze, his hair a gentle touch, his cheek a kiss? You'll have this boy melted into a puddle immediately. He's been so used to touches being rough or causing pain, that your soft, loving embrace is one of the ways he knows you truly love him, and he truly loves you.

m - mornings (how are mornings spent with them?)

Brought him a bottle of water because you notice he doesn't drink much? Brought his favourite shirt from his apartment because you knew he'd be sleeping over and you wanted him to feel his best the next day? Something as small as putting toothpaste on his brush and handing it to him before doing the same with your own would have him staring at you like you rearranged the stars for him alone. He can't believe you would go out of your way to do something for him, when you have to take care of so much more in your day to day life, so every tiny favour and gesture would make him desperate to try and make you feel that same joy. Even if he would most likely go overboard ranging from buying you a robot vacuum because you don't like cleaning to buying your apartment so you never have to pay rent again.

n - nights (how are nights spent with them?)

Roman is absolutely not a morning person. When he sleeps over be prepared to wake up to a very grumpy face, groaning in protest about the blaring alarms coming from both your phones. He'll insist on pulling the plush layers of duvet quickly back over the both of you, blocking out the daylight and the rest of the world in favour of just the two of you staring into each others eyes as slowly his demeanour starts to thaw and he accepts that you both need to get up. He'll steal a quick kiss for motivation before racing into the kitchen, putting on the coffee machine he has now very proudly learnt to use so he can feel useful in the mornings while you pull some breakfast together.

o - open (when would they start revealing things about themselves? do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Before you came into his life, most of his nights ended with him crawling into bed alone, slightly tipsy, mentally replaying all his perceived failures that day. Now his bedtime is preceded by 45 minutes of hassling you; lying on top of you on the couch so you can't get up for bed, hiding your pyjama top as you start to get changed and claiming he has no idea where it is, but you look great so he wouldn't worry. Once you finally get into bed prepare for an endless monologue of little thoughts and insights, the light flicking back on every time you try to turn it off until eventually he lulls himself to sleep, curling up right next to your back, no matter how much space is free on the kind sized mattress.

p - patience (how patient are they usually? what tends to wear their patience thin?)

Roman's openness is very similar to that of a specific kind of mysterious local corner store/bodega: Never open when you think it should be, but sometimes you'll happen to be walking past at an ungodly hour and it will be open AND have the exact niche thing you need, following seemingly no pattern for its operating hours or inventory. In the same way, sometimes you will ask Roman a simple, first-date level, personal question and get nothing in response but a snarky line and cold shoulder. Then at 2am you'll find him at your door with a story from childhood that leaves you in tears and his favourite candy because he wanted you to know that about him after all. It's a bit of trial and error getting to know Roman, but as he slowly learns that his thoughts and secrets are safe with you, then he stops locking the gates to himself and starts giving you a key to let yourself in.

q - quality time (how do they like to spend with you?)

Being a Roy means you rarely have to wait for anything that you want, and growing up surrounded by short fuses. This makes Roman a little bit quick to throw out a cutting remark and start to get snippy when things aren't going his way. He hates that part of himself though, and wants to be more patient and understanding like you, so he's quick to apologise, sometimes going a little overboard with the apology to show just how much he means it (like when he got a telling off from Logan for sending a hundred bouquets of tulips to your desk, disrupting Waystar for the afternoon and throwing the Dutch economy into turmoil.)

r - remember (what is their favourite moment in your relationship?)

Like how it was unnatural for Roman to start going on dates with you, given how little of his free time he's ever really been in control of, spending time together also starts off a little uncomfortable for him. Sure when you're at work at Waystar he's happy to just sit on the floor by your desk, chatting shit and ignoring the strange looks for passersby as they try to have normal work conversations with you. And if you go to a cafe or a bar after work and just spend your time talking about nothing and laughing at each others dumb one-liners then it's as easy company as Roman's ever known. It's when he tries to plan every second, desperate to make sure you don't get bored that you have to slow him down and take him by the hand and ask him what he actually feels like doing with your rare Sunday off, the response to which is pretty much always "Can we just do, like, fucking nothing?" Which you are more than happy to join him in, lounging across his living room while the TV blares in the background and you just enjoy being in each others comfortable company.

s - security (how protective are they? how would they protect you? how would they like to be protected?)

The first birthday he celebrated with you, before you were really an item, and you made him actually feel like this birthday was actually something worth celebrating. I have a whole section on this in these headcanons.

t - try (how much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Growing up Roman always wished there had been someone around to protect him from his father and his family and the expectations of the Roy family name and now you do that for him effortlessly with your support and patience and kindness. So when Roman gets the chance, he's so determined to play the role of protector, making sure no one can ever make you feel like they have him. Be prepared to be the one reason Roman will stand up to his family and not let them lead him along, stopping any sly comments before they start. And when the inevitable workplace rumours start about the two of you, he'll find whoever dared start them and give them a stirring speech about how it would take him less than three phone calls to completely ruin their life, meaning suddenly no one at work has any opinion on your personal life. In return Roman wouldn't ever want you to stand up for him in an obvious way, he doesn't want to be accused of not fighting his own battles. Instead just protect his heart afterwards, piece him back together when he's broken down, remind him you still think the world of him, and you'll easily be his hero.

u - upset (how do they act when you’re upset? how do they act when they’re upset?)

Poor Roman really feels the pressure when it comes to special occasions. He's got all the resources in the world, but frankly a supreme lack of practical skills. He'll try to follow a recipe from a Michelin starred chef, only to realise nothing looks like it does in the video and now something smells like burning, and you'll be home any minute and the surprise will be ruined. You'll find him crouched under the dining table in tears while the smoke alarm blares, devastated because 'he can't do anything right, and you're going to realise that and run.' A few well timed kisses and a reminder that you know he's extraordinary even if he's not much of a cook, and that you're not going anywhere and he'll be back on his feet again in no time. While he might struggle with the big events, on a day to day level he always puts in the effort, coming to find you at every event and work day, learning how to do simple things to make your life easier, and genuinely being a surprisingly good person to live with when he sleeps over, something that doesn't go unnoticed by either of you.

When Roman's upset it takes a long time to try and coax it out of him, his instincts to just stuff it down and make a joke bubbling up to the surface initially. But slowly he'll learn that a problem shared is a problem halved and he'll start offering up his troubling thoughts before they overwhelm him and lead to a full breakdown.

v - vanity (how concerned are they with their looks?)

When you're upset, Roman is surprisingly empathetic. He likes that he gets to be the person to tell you it's going to be okay, and to listen to whatevers troubling you, rather than another source of vicious mockery when he's spent his whole life surrounded by that. He'll rage about how much bullshit things are when they're not going your way, wrapping his arms around you and grumbling adorable 'oh nos' into the top of your head until you can't help but crack a smile.

w - wildcard (a random headcanon for them)

Roman's never been hugely fussed by fashion or trying to look a certain way, he's had the same haircut since he was 19 and while he sometimes wishes he was as tall as his brothers, mostly he's more concerned with what's on the inside when it comes to his self-love, or self-loathing. That being said, if you were to call him handsome he'd spend the rest of the day with a cocky grin on his face and checking himself out proudly in every single reflective surface he walked past.

The first time you held Roman Roy's hand was a complete accident; he'd been walking backwards up a flight of stairs in front you, so he could continue the conversation he was enjoying so much with you that he didn't dare look away for a second, and almost tripped straight onto his butt. Luckily you managed to catch him by the hand at the last second, and as you pulled him back to his feet it was like his entire world stopped spinning for a second. The soft, warm feeling of your skin meeting his, the gentle squeeze of reassurance as you laughed at his lack of coordination, the couple of seconds too long he kept hold of you for, feeling like his blood was finally reaching his heart, hammering in chest for the first time he could remember. He was obsessed. He thought of nothing else for the next two days, staring down at his own palm to make sure the surge of electricity in his body hadn't left a mark when you'd touched him.

So he made a plan to feel that same way again, using the characteristic he was most confident about possessing; being annoying. He slunk over to your desk as usual, trying to hide the little smile he seemed incapable of wiping off his face whenever he saw you. You were focusing on your work, but gave him a little smile as he sunk on to the carpet next you, feeling his gaze fixed to your hand where it sat moving your mouse to and fro. He started the conversation as usual, complaining about the charity event he went to last night, describing every awful interaction he endured, whining about how much work he had to do today, despite being sat by your side. However every so often he'd slide his hand across your desk and nudge your mouse just as you were about to click. The first time you assumed it was an accident. Then every few seconds he did the same thing, pretending not to notice it was happening. Finally you noticed that every time he did it, he smiled a little at the contact with your hand, fondly remembering your stairwell embrace.

x-ray (how easily are they able to read you?)

So, hoping to succeed in his bizarre little game, the next time his hand moved to nudge yours, you moved a second earlier, capturing his hand in yours and threading your fingers through his. His giddy little giggle at your action confirmed your assumption about his motivation, so you spend the rest of the afternoon awkwardly trying to use your mouse with the wrong hand, while Roman happily clung to your other one, sighing happily every time you ran your thumb softly over his, content to spend the rest of his days right there.

y -yuck (what things do you do that they hate?)

This is not easy for Roman since he's used to being in a room full of people hiding their true motivations and playing verbal chess to try and get a few moves ahead. If you're having an off day, Roman might pick up on those vibes, but honestly he'll just assume he's done something wrong, and start trying to make it up to you somehow. You'll have to be a bit direct with Roman, but he'll always do his best to do what he can to help once he knows what you're thinking.

z - zzz (what is a sleep habit of theirs?)

While Roman loves being on the receiving end of your kindness and love, it makes his skin crawl when he sees you genuinely getting along with Connor and Willa. You can't help but find Willa genuine and interesting, and while Connor might be delusional and certainly not fit for the presidency, he doesn't lie and manipulate like the other Roys and enjoys having someone who really wants to hear about his camping trips with Roman and the parts of his youth that he rarely gets to remember fondly. Roman feels like there's something hideously wrong with the picture when he finds the three of you sat at the back table of a gala, avoiding business talk and just being human beings, but that's only because he doesn't understand that you and Connor have something very important in common; loving Roman.

No son of Logan Roys was ever to be permitted sleeping with a stuffed animal, so despite a childhood of nightmares and fear, Roman never had a teddy growing up. As an adult he's rarely spent the night alongside someone he truly cares about and trusts, so the first time he sleeps over you wake up to find his little fists clinging to you, like you might somehow drift out to sea in the night. When he realises he immediately apologises and makes a joke about 'not wanting you to swipe his wallet while he slept', but night after night you two always wake up to him holding onto you for dear life, to the point that you'll hold his hand as soon as you get into bed and watch him drift off to sleep so much easier. Bonus tip: when he gets sent halfway across the world on business and can't bring you with him, get him one of those special teddy bears you can record a message in and, once he's made a hundred ultra-masculine jokes about how ridiculous and creepy it is, it will become his prized possession.

#writing #fanfiction #one shot #requests #roman roy angst #roman roy fluff #roman roy imagine #roman roy x reader #roman roy #succession imagine #succession hbo #succession #succession headcanons #roman roy succession

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slasherhaven · 3 years

Note

I'd absolutely love love LOVE head cannons for patching up the slashers wounds (pleaase)

Patching up the Slasher’s Wounds:

Thomas Hewitt

Thomas obtains his fair share of injuries, whether from nicking his hand on a tool or from an altercation with a victim. Either way, you’re there to help him.

He doesn’t nick himself on tools often, having grown used to using them so often, but accidents happen from time to time. When you saw him do so, you had frowned, taking his hand in yours and fussing over the tiny cut.

He knew it wasn’t anything to worry about but he felt a familiar sense of adoration for you as you tended to him.

And when he received larger wounds, you fuss and fret even more. You insist on him resting, carefully and lovingly patching him up.

He never fights you, knowing it’s better to just let you help rather than attempt to do it himself.

Thomas usually tends to his own wounds and if he ever needed assistance, it was Luda May who would provide it. But now you’re there, insistent on helping him every time no matter how minor it is. It makes his heart warm and Luda May isn’t upset about being replaced, happy to see you caring so much for her son.

Michael Myers

If you want to help Michael with any injuries he had received, you’re going to have to fight to do so.

Michael will just take care of himself, handle it himself, and he doesn’t need your help. You know that he doesn’t need your help, you’re sure he has patched himself up many times in the past, but you care about him and want to help.

You have to tell him that you know he can do it himself but to just let you assist him.

He’s not used to handing over control like this and he really isn’t used to somebody genuinely caring so much.

So the two of you end up in your bathroom in the middle of the night as you scold the man for getting in your way while simultaneously fretting over him.

He isn’t the most tidy person, so you’re probably going to have to clean everything up as well. But let’s be honest, you would have insisted on it anyway while making him get some rest.

Jason Voorhees

Jason avoids injuries for the most part, he knows the forest well enough to avoid any accidents. So most injuries come from messy run ins with victims.

Every time, no matter how little the injury, you worry and rush to him, checking him over.

This has happened plenty of times before when he didn’t even have anyone to tend to him, he knows how to take care of it.

But now you are here, and you always insist of taking care of him no matter what the problem is.

You’re always so careful and tender, love and concentration in your eyes as you patch him up.

You are such a wonderful addition to his life, a miracle, and he adores you.

Brahms Heelshire

Brahms is always scurrying around in the walls, and while he might be an expert at it by this point, he’s bound to scratch himself up every now and again.

So, when he catches himself on a nail or something, he comes to you, playing on it a little.

He’s scratched himself up before, sustained little cuts, and never worried about it. But if it means he gets extra attention from you? Of course he is going to pretend it is worse than it truly is.

You just play along, fussing over him a little, giving him some attention and affection.

Oh, and of course, he needs a kiss to make everything better.

Bo Sinclair

Bo had received his fair share of injuries in the past, most of which he treated by himself. If he couldn’t see or reach the wound, Vincent would tend to it.

He does not need your help and makes sure to tell you such when you offer to help him.

You will have to fight him on the matter, prying the bloodied cloth out of his hand and demanding that he just let you look at the wound.

He eventually gives in and huffs, letting you have a look.

Pretty much pouts about it the whole time, reluctantly accepting that it is easier to just let you assist him.

You apologise whenever you accidently touch the wound or apply too much pressure, but Bo just grits his teeth and acts like he barely even felt it.

Rolls his eyes when you tell him that you’re finished but tell him to just take it easy.

Vincent Sinclair

Vincent actually secretly likes when you patch him up. He doesn’t like to feel like a burden but he likes the feeling of being cared for, and you’re just so kind and loving.

He’s used to looking after himself when he gets hurt, he’s used to it and really doesn’t mind it for the most part. But now you’re here and you care so much about him.

He’d never ask for your help, not wanting to drag you into caring for him like this, but you always want to help.

If he’s cut his hand on something, you’ll sit with him in the candle lit workroom, tenderly caring for his small injury. He can’t help but admire the concentration on your face and the care you have for him.

And when he gets injured in a struggle with a victim, he is a little surprised when you rush to him so eagerly, concerned about his wellbeing. You insist on patching him up and making sure he is alright.

You’re so careful and delicate, making sure not to hurt him further, you always make sure he rests afterwards so he can properly heal.

Lester Sinclair

Lester rarely gets an injury he can’t take care of himself. He tends to stay away from the victims once they reach Ambrose, so any injuries he gets are usually due to cutting himself on a jagged piece of metal he didn’t see or just on his own knife. All things he takes care of himself.

So, when he gets home, holding a bloody cloth in his bleeding palm, he’s a little surprised when you rush over to him and clap his injured hand gently in your own.

He’s used to dealing with these things, and this is the first time you’ve been around when it’s happened.

But you guide him through to the kitchen and tender patch up his hand, with much more care than he ever did.

He just reassures you that he’s fine and smiles as you work, flinching every now and again when you touch the wound, quickly reassuring you again when you apologise.

He likes having somebody who cares so much about him, to fuss over him even when it’s not that big of a deal. He just thinks you’re so sweet.

Bubba Sawyer

The house is one big hazard, so Bubba is bound to receive an unserious injury here and there that have nothing to do with any victims they’re dealing with.

Bubba pouts at the injurie but he’s used to it, if he needs to wrap it, he will but then continue on with his day.

When you notice that Bubba has a piece of material wrapped around his hand, you know he’s hurt himself somehow and are quick to sit him down and take a look at it. He lets you without argument.

Bubba just lets you take his hand and examine it, cleaning it for him before wrapping it up again with some clean bandages. He can’t help but smile at how you’re helping him with so much care.

Once you’re done, you tell him to come to you if he hurts himself again, not wanting anything to get infected because he didn’t clean it properly.

And of course you give him a quick kiss to get him smiling again.

Billy Lenz

Billy has a habit of accidently hurting himself, cutting his hands when dealing with sharp objects, scratching himself on random things in the attic, ending up with bruises that neither of you know how he got them.

Nearly every time he comes to you, holding out his scratched or cut hands.

He really loves having you dote on him, so he loves you tending to his small injuries.

You sit together on the couch as you clean his hands, placing little bandages over his small cuts. He sits still, letting you turn his hands in your lap to inspect them.

After tending to his injuries, he requires a kiss from you to stop pouting and put a smile back on his face.

Asa Emory (The Collector)

Surprisingly, considering the dangerous contraptions he puts together, Asa doesn’t really get injured often. Nothing serious or too permanent anyway. He might have a few faint scars but nothing that would cause too much concern for anyone who sees them.

But accidents happen to the best of us. A victim very very rarely gets to him, he’s more likely to injure himself slightly when testing or building new traps.

He always takes care of these things himself. If it’s just a cut, he will clean it, wrap it, and keep an eye on it until it’s healed. If it’s more serious, he goes to a hospital with a story in mind in case they ask too many questions.

It’s almost surprising to him when you walk in on him tending to a small wound and hurry to his side, offering your assistance.

At first he shakes his head, telling you he is fine and handling it himself, and at first you nod and take a step back.

But you can’t just stand to the side, he’s hurt and you want to help even if he is perfectly capable of doing it himself. So, you step in again, and he lets you, looking at you with a sense of curiosity.

You take your time, clean and examining the wound. Asa lets you, but he will step in if he deems that you are doing something wrong.

Jesse Cromeans (Chromeskull)

If you’re around when he’s sustaining injuries in his trips, you’re likely in some sort of assistant position.

In that case, you will have been trained in how to tend to wounds if a doctor was unavailable. You’re not a professional by any means but you know enough to patch him up.

Jesse doesn’t let any pride get in the way of letting you help him. He got hurt and you’re here to help him, he’ll let you work without complaint.

You’ve become very good at patching up his wounds and Jesse enjoys not having to do it himself.

Though, he always seems much more calm than you. You worry about him when he gets hurt because you care about him so much but he knows what he can handle, he’s literally been shot before and he barely seemed concerned while you couldn’t stop fussing over him.

Otis Driftwood

It wasn’t a serious injury, it required attention but it wasn’t fatal. As long as it didn’t get infected, he would be fine and you both knew it.

Otis didn’t really need any assistance with it and he had experienced worse, and dealt with worse by himself.

But you had heard his grumbling and complaining as he tended to his own injury and just had to step in. Both because you were a little concerned about him but also because his complaining was irritating.

You marched over to him, slapping his hands away and taking the cloth from his hand before focusing your attention on his wound.

He complained a little about not needing any help but allowed you to tend to the wound, watching you curiously as you fussed over him so much, you seemed so concerned for him when he had done so much more to other people.

Thinks it’s a little ironic that you’re so insistent on helping him when he’s probably the least deserving of it.

He can admit you get the job done quicker and with less cursing, but will never admit to needing help.

Baby Firefly

It’s a miracle that the Firefly family doesn’t have more scars between them all, they live a dangerous life and are always getting hurt in some way. Maybe Baby has always just gotten lucky enough to get non-serious wounds and few lasting scars.

As soon as Baby gets hurt, you’re there to check on her.

It’s a small wound, nothing serious, something she has dealt with a hundred times, but you’re still there to help.

She likes when you fuss over her a little, so she is happy to let you tend to the wound and patch her up.

When you ask if there is anything else you can do to help her, she just asks for a kiss with a playful smirk.

Mama Firefly is glad to see that somebody is looking after her little girl even if she’s perfectly capable of looking after herself.

Yautja (Predator)

Of course your mate has experienced his fair share of injuries, wearing his scars with pride.

The only time he really gets hurt at all is on hunts and it’s rarely anything serious. It’s things that he’d usually patch up himself, making a trip to the med bay once he returned.

But when you see that your mate is wounded in anyway, of course you worry and want to help him.

At first, when you start fretting and fussing over him, he is a little offended. Do you not think he can handle himself? Do you think he is weak in someway?

Then he starts to realise that this is just something that humans do, they worry about their partners when they are hurt no matter how serious it is, and then he’s just proud to mean so much to you.

He reassures you that he is fine but allows you to help patch him up if he can’t see a medic at the time, both amused but warmed by your concern and love for him.

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versadies · 3 years

Text

general + lantern rite with scaramouche hc (gn!reader, 400 follows special)

penpal: it’s finally here!!! thank you guys sm for the follows and the support. i enjoy writing hcs and i’m happy that a lot of you like it! a few of you also requested me for a scaramouche general hc so hope this lives up to your expectations. happy readings! - ver.

warning/s: ooc!scaramouche

sypnosis: what it’s like to date scaramouche + hang out with him in lantern rite festival

note: i was actually supposed to make this toxic given that scaramouche is... scaramouche but my heart can’t take it so i decided to just go wild on this one.

-> i salute to you for dating this man.

-> scaramouche is scary and is probably not even the type to be interested in having romantic relationships. the fact that he fell in love with you though is shocking to the fatui if they even find out about it. hell, even the man himself is surprised.

-> he’s going to be not so affectionate at first (just subtle affection here and there but no kisses or long cuddling) since he’s not an affectionate type of guy but as time goes by, he’ll eventually start to give you lots of affection.

-> pda is a no for scaramouche. the two of you have to agree in keeping this relationship a secret due to not only the danger you could be in but also the fact that he doesn’t want anyone to know about your relationship with him.

-> don’t get him wrong— it’s not that he’s ashamed of dating you. he knows that almost everyone in teyvat hates the fatui, so the fact that the potential harassment given to you from others is a possibility, he doesn’t want you to be in that situation.

-> the way he acts around you is unpredictable. i think he’d be both cold yet affectionate if that’s even possible. don’t worry, his mean demeanor is different to you than how he acts around everyone else— it’s less harsh and harmless, to which you understand that he’s not serious. feel free to bicker back at him, he won’t kill you.

-> your family would’ve thought he forced you into this if they found out of your relationship with the man. it will take you a lot of reassurance to them that you weren’t forced and the fact that you love him as much as he to you.

-> dates with him are to be private. i’d think he’d pull on a reservation on a restaurant and make sure that everyone around you knows that this date is “private affairs on your debt” (even though you never had a debt in the first place). even if these “private affairs” happens a bit too often than normal, people would be too scared to even confront scaramouche.

-> i honestly see this guy as a classy man. he’ll pull classy dinners, walking around the city hand-in-hand at 3am when everyone is asleep, go somewhere private outside + get a picnic date + star-gazing, etc.

-> i can already imagine this man telling you all of his theories on the skies and on teyvat during your picnic-stargazing dates while you listen and eat an inazuma dish. (his line about the sky being fake really do be sus to me to this day 👀👀👀)

-> during dates where you two aren’t living together yet and when scaramouche always has to escort you to your dates, he’ll definitely not hesitate to throw a pebble against your bedroom window if you’re not going to answer the door after countless of pounding against it. he’ll throw every pebble he can get from the ground until it either breaks or you finally answered lol

-> like childe, scaramouche is hella busy. unless you’re in either snezhnaya or inazuma— then you two can be able to spend time. however if you live in other nations that isn’t one of the two, you’d have to get used to a long distance relationship. however if you’re not the kind to like a long distance relationship, then sorry to break it to you, that relationship might not work unless you and scaramouche are able to find a way.

-> breaks for him are rare, he’s a hardworking man and wants to live up to the tsaritsa’s expectations (even if he dislikes the archon). when he does go home to you, he makes sure that he’ll spend time with you every single moment and that they’re all precious memories.

-> he is lowkey caring but he will deny it will all of his life if you even mention it. oh you fell asleep on the couch while waiting for him to go home? wow would you look at that, the wind is so kind for putting a blanket over you and he somehow wasn’t there! oh my gosh you’re getting a cold and is coughing a lot? la signora is so nice for making some people from the fatui to offer medicine and it’s def not him, who has the upper hand in ordering them to do it!

-> don’t get me started on him spoiling you. he always writes letters to you and every letter he sent always has a small gift or a package sent with a scared-looking fatui member who just wants to go home. the gifts are either souvenirs from his travels or something that reminds him of you. either way, it’s always what you like.

-> you can’t convince me that not all of his letters are 60% him complaining about how his subordinates have some audacity to give him headaches and how he just wants to lowkey go home to you because of it (in reality, the both of you know he just misses you).

-> ik a lot of scaramouche simps really wanna try his hat out and i can already imagine you finding ways to get your hands on his hat without him noticing or not wearing it. if you somehow managed to get the prize, he’ll def try to get it from you and won’t hesitate to throw (harmless) threats until you finally give in and give it to him.

-> fighting with scaramouche is kind of rare given that he’s mostly away but when it does happen, it’s related to him being too harsh or his sudden announcement that he has to leave. your arguments never includes long distance relationship since it’s something you and scaramouche expected and are ready for. of course, scaramouche will treat it as if you’re the one making a big deal out of it— which is something that angers you and a disadvantage of dating him.

-> during those arguments, the way he acts depends on how serious it is. by the time you leave the room to get some space, he’ll give you all the space you need— though he couldn’t help but not ignore the harsh pangs he’s feeling from his chest.

-> scaramouche will def be the first to apologize because he feels guilty (the feeling of not being satisfied is strong whenever you leave and he hates it) and doesn’t want you to be mad anymore. unless the fight is truly your fault, he’ll wait till you apologize.

-> his favorite moments are always when he’s allowed to take you with him to his travels for a mission. he won’t admit, he’s very looking forward to show you around places privately and his ego will rise if you praise him for his intelligence on the land. though, those who try to interrupt his private moments with you just to tell scaramouche about something related to the fatui— they’ll face an even harsher treatment than normal.

-> nights with scaramouche are quiet. the moment scaramouche lays down on the bed and closes his eyes for a moment, he’s asleep. can’t blame him, he’s always exhausted from the fatui so he needs it. however, he does make sure you yourself get some sleep as well. he’ll make sure that you’re always beside him before he sleeps.

-> mornings with him are short. he’ll wake up first and immediately get ready for work while you’re on your bed still sleeping. scaramouche won’t be able to eat breakfast in your home and always buy food on his way there since he doesn’t have time to wait (and partially doesn’t wanna make you wake up just to cook for him). he makes sure to kiss your forehead and leave.

-> don’t ever bring up about his goodbye kisses, he will straight up take that secret to his grave. the moment you mention it, he’ll act like you killed someone. “me? kissing you on the forehead? are you sure you’re not dreaming at that time?” he would say while hiding his light reddened cheeks with his hat.

-> if you’re the type to wake up very early though, he’d definitely try to wake up at the same time as you and run with you in the morning if you do. though if you’re not the type to do morning runs, you’ll either cook for his lunch or get ready for work as well. he won’t admit it... but he likes your cooking. expect yourself to be the one to ask for a goodbye kiss cuz man’s going to act like he doesn’t want to do it.

-> as for fatui when you date scaramouche... they’ll probably find out fast. if you don’t work for the fatui, scaramouche will make sure you will never be involved with them. he knows how the fatui can be and will be mad if he finds out you came across to one of the harbingers.

-> overall, dating him is just wild.

-> scaramouche has to admit, liyue has outdone themselves on this one.

-> the two of you decided to attend the festival as your one year anniversary date and you did not regret trying to convince your man to come with you to liyue for the festival 24/7 ever since you heard childe talking about it to you.

-> while you were taking your sweet time by admiring the decorations around the harbor, scaramouche makes sure no one is following or planning to bother you two at the moment. thank goodness he didn’t have to worry about the millelith, given that they act like they don’t know him at all.

-> he makes sure that you’re having a great time. he’ll let you go buy whatever you want if you wish, it’s his gift i suppose. i’d think he’ll get way too competitive on theater mechanicus and will expect you to praise him whenever he wins.

-> scaramouche will take you to the most fanciest restaurant of the harbor, but if you want to go for another option— he’ll reluctantly accept that and let you buy food for the both of you. given that he mostly resides in inazuma, he’s definitely a skilled chopsticks user (unlike childe).

-> when it comes to making lanterns, it will take scaramouche to try and make a few lanterns before he finally does it right. he’ll gladly help you out if you still couldn’t get a hang of it (he’ll teach you in an “annoyed” way, but he means well).

-> i feel like he’ll take you somewhere not so crowded. man’s probably gonna make sure the whole pearl galley is just the two of you (and the staff) with the help of his mora and let you watch the lanterns from there. however should you not want to ruin someone’s night and force scaramouche somewhere that does not require any mora and is not crowded, then he’s fine with that too.

-> i think he’ll lowkey be interested in the stories presented by the storytellers around the harbor. he’s not invested but just earned enough of his attention to actually listen.

-> by the time the mingxiao lantern is about to be released, you two immediately head to your designated area and started writing your wishes.

-> his wish will probably be something related to successfulness.

-> when the lanterns are released with the mingxiao lantern, the two of you’d just watch in silence. you’d be pretty speechless from the beautiful scenery while scaramouche just watches in slight amusement.

-> the moment scaramouche glances at you, he’ll be surprised by you immediately hugging him and thanking him for taking you to the festival when you have the chance. man’s probably going to try and deny your hug for a moment until giving in and hug you back.

-> he might consider thanking childe when he comes back to snezhnaya.

#im sorry if this is so ooc for scaramouche #genshin impact #genshin headcanons #genshin impact fanfiction #genshin impact x reader #scaramouche genshin #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #childe #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche headcanons #scaramouche hc #genshin hc #lantern rite #lantern rite festival #1.3 update

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alwaysmarveling · 3 years

Text

Milestones

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!Reader

Warnings: None that I can think of, but please let me know if you think I’m forgetting any!

Word Count: 3.9k

Summary: You and Nat are starting a family. It’s challenging, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

A/N: Welcome to the first series I’ve ever finished! I was a bit hesitant to publish this because, it being my first series, I’m not too sure how good it is and it does hold a special place in my heart, but if just one of you ends up liking it too, it’ll be worth it. This part is all fluff, but there will be angst in future parts. If you’re not a fan of that, this can just be read as a fluffy one-shot :) And big thanks to @vancityfire13 for talking this through with me, I really appreciate it <3

“He’s beautiful,” you sniffed, tears swelling in your eyes and spilling over the edge as they built up. Your wife squeezed your shoulder, and a drop landing just shy of your collarbone told you that she was crying too.

“He’s ours.” You cradled the baby boy—your baby boy—in your arms as he drank from your breast. “I still can’t believe they did it.” You let out a watery chuckle in response.

When Fury approached the two of you after he “accidentally” overheard your and Natasha’s conversation about having kids, you weren’t sure how to react. It was no secret among SHIELD that the two of you were together. In fact, you two had become somewhat of the organization’s power couple immediately after the many rumors claiming you were together were proven to be true. Still, the thought of all their best scientists working together just to give you two a biological child seemed a bit extreme, especially since the two of you did want to adopt someday. Nat, being the overprotective partner she was, was ready to launch herself at Fury, but you managed to pull her back before any real harm was done (Nat later got her revenge, and she made sure Fury didn’t tell you about it; she ended up confessing when you caught her looking just a bit too happy the next day though). The two of you had many long nights of talking over his offer, and before you knew it, you were pregnant with your first child, a child that would be biologically related to you and Natasha.

You guys had spent many nights talking about what your baby might look like, whether they’d have your laugh or her athleticism, your humor or her determination. Nat hoped they would be all you, while you could easily say the opposite.

When it came time to find out the baby’s sex, it took some serious convincing on Natasha’s part to get you to agree. In her mind, having a baby was surprise enough; she had to remind herself everyday that you really were pregnant with your child, her child. She did not need another surprise when the baby came. She wanted to be prepared, and who could blame her? You, on the other hand, wanted to wait. It was just the sex, after all. That didn’t change the preparations much. Nevertheless, after some bribery and more talking, you reluctantly agreed to learn the sex before the baby was born.

Hearing the words “it’s a boy” sent both of you into a tizzy. Nat wasn’t expecting it, and neither were you. Sure, there was a 50% chance of having a boy, but both of you were just so sure that it was a girl. After getting the doctor to check for the third time, you finally accepted that you were wrong.

Then came the discussion of names. What to name him, should he have a nickname, what would he call your friends and family?

One night, you took Natasha out for a walk around the park (this was before you got so big you couldn’t see your own feet) and a nice dinner on the waterfront. With the lights forming a halo around her already glowing face, you told her what you wanted the baby to be named: Igor. The minute you found the name, you knew it was perfect, and when you found out it was Russian and meant “warrior,” well, that was just icing on the cake.

“I’ve already got one Russian warrior who I love and adore more than words can express, and I can’t wait to have another. You’re everything I love and everything I want him to be. I think that’s what his name should be. And I know that, with a mom as perfect as you, he’ll live up to it.” You barely had time to get those last few words out before Natasha leaped over the table, silverware clinking and glasses wobbling as she lunged to pull your face into her hands, the two of you melting at the lips and forgetting about all the other patrons eating around you.

“I love you more than you know,” Natasha let out between breaths, finally letting you go.

“I have a feeling I do,” you giggled, “because I love you more.”

“Impossible.”

“Nuh uh.”

“Yeah huh.” You two “argued” about that for the rest of the night.

Then came the nursery. Nat insisted that you only be allowed to help in designing. You were already seven months along, she said, and that was seven too many. Plus, she pointed out with a not-so-subtle wink, she didn’t need help when she had “guns as big as these.” With some not-so-gentle persuasion from Clint, you settled on a farm-themed nursery. Less than a week later, Clint had gone out to god-knows-how-many stores and came back with more than enough decorations and furniture to fill the baby’s room, the many leftovers spilling out into the hallways and even your bedroom (much to his dismay, you made him return more than half of what he bought). The nursery was completed within weeks, and then all the two of you had to do was wait for your little bundle of joy to arrive.

Insistent ringing from Natasha’s phone pulled the two of you out of your peaceful moment.

“It’s Fury,” Natasha huffed playfully. “He’s asking if ‘the gross part is over yet.’ You ready to show him off to the world?”

“My world is all right here,” you murmured, fully sincere in what you were saying.

“As is mine.” The redhead’s finger lifted your chin up, your gaze shifting from your little boy to the prettiest woman in the universe. “I’m the luckiest woman in the world.”

“I tell myself that every day,” you smiled, meeting her lips in a sweet kiss.

---

“Nat! Come quick! Hurry! I think he’s going to do it!”

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” your wife responded with equal urgency. “You going to do it, Igoryok? You going to walk for Mamas?” The baby boy giggled, nothing but pure glee on his face as he pushed himself to stand. You held out your arms to your son, cooing words of encouragement as he stumbled his way towards you. He started maybe only four feet away, but when he finally made it to you, you swung him into the air and you and Nat cheered like he had just finished first in the 400 metres at the Olympics. You could’ve sworn your life couldn’t get any better than it was at that point, safe, happy, and healthy with the two people you loved most in the world right by your side.

“Did you get it on video, Natty?”

“Of course, malyshka. Such a big milestone needs to be kept forever, isn’t that right, Igoryok?” Igor laughed when the redhead reached over and tickled him just under his chin. The two of you soon joined in, his joyous giggles impossible to resist.

“You’re an amazing mother,” Nat murmured to you that night as the two of you laid in bed. “And you’re raising an amazing son. I love you.” She tilted her head down to meet your lips.

“I love you too, Nat, but you’re also raising an amazing son. I couldn’t have done any of this without you.” She nodded slowly, reluctantly. “What is it?”

“I just… Being here today with you and Igor, it was perfect. Everything was perfect. And I hate how I have to throw us out of that every time I leave.” You frowned as you turned onto your stomach, pushing yourself up on one arm and using the other hand to cup Nat’s face.

“You’re not the only one working, you know. I feel that way too, every time I have to go on a mission or even just leave for the office.”

“I know,” she sighed. “But I’m gone so much more often than you are. Especially now that you’ve switched to mostly training others.”

“Just because you’re not here all the time doesn’t make you a bad mom, Tash. You’re the best mom because you love him with all of your heart and you’ll do anything for him. And-“

“I want to retire.”

“What?” Out of all the things that could’ve come out of Nat’s mouth, that was not the one you were expecting or prepared for.

“I wanna be there when he says his first words and when he loses his first tooth and when he goes to school for the first time. I want to be here.”

“But… you love your job.”

“I know,” she whispered, her eyes shining. “But I love Igor more.”

“And Igor will know that. Igor already knows that. Sweetheart, part of doing anything for Igor includes protecting him from bad guys. You do that every day you go to work. You show him you love him by fighting to give him the best life possible. If you want to retire,” your hand finally slid down from her cheek to hold her hand, “then I will support you every step of the way. But if you’re doing this because you think you’re a bad mother if you don’t, then you need to know that that is not true at all.” Natasha bit her lip as she thought over what you said. You gave her the time she needed, rubbing small circles into the back of her hand.

You would be lying if you said you never had those same thoughts. Both of you felt awful every time you had to hand Igor over to one of the nanny or even one of the Avengers or their families. The two of you loved them and Igor loved them, and they always took amazing care of him, but it was hard to not feel bad knowing your child wanted nothing more than to be in your arms. The first time Igor wailed as you handed him over to Laura, you filled out all the retirement paperwork the next day, keeping it on your desk for weeks before you eventually talked yourself out of it.

Just as Natasha was opening her mouth to respond, she was interrupted by Igor’s cries from the baby monitor.

“I’ll get him,” your wife reassured you. You nodded reluctantly, not wanting to stop the conversation but knowing you’d have to regardless of who left.

---

“Guess who’s coming home today, buddy?” Igor babbled random syllables back at you, grabbing onto your hair as you lifted him out of his crib. “Gentle, Igor, gentle,” you winced, slowly pulling his hands away from your locks. Sounds from downstairs had you looking away from Igor and towards the hallway.

“That must be Mama!” You weren’t too sure if he understood you, but he definitely fed off of your excitement, letting out another string of syllables and clapping his hands together.

“Hellooo! Anybody home?” Natasha’s red hair was the first thing you saw as you rounded the corner to see the front door. “Hi, rybka! How are you doing?” Your boy held his hands out to Natasha, obviously excited to see her. She grinned back at the two of you, but both of your eyes grew wide when he opened his mouth.

“Mama!” With that one word, you could’ve sworn your heart stopped beating. Nat’s eyes met yours, the love she felt for you and your son overflowing in the form of crystal droplets that filled her green orbs.

“That’s right, Igor, Mama. Can you give Mama a kiss?” You smiled as you handed Igor to Nat, your little boy puckering his lips dramatically to plant a wet kiss on her cheek.

“Thank you, Igoryok,” the redhead laughed. “He said ‘Mama,’ Y/N. His first word! He called me ‘mama.’” She was smiling so hard her cheeks were practically trembling.

“Because you are his mama. The best mama in the whole wide world,” you murmured, kissing her other cheek.

“No one could ever be as good as you. I love you so much, malyshka.”

“I love you too.”

“Mama!” The two of you laughed once again, your intimate moment interrupted but neither of you could complain.

“How was the mission?” you asked, both of you somewhat preoccupied with the bouncing babe in Nat’s arms.

“Good. Clean.”

“No injuries?”

“Not even a bruise.” You scanned her face and body to see if she was lying, and eventually nodded once you were satisfied.

“Good. Now, I believe it is someone’s dinner time.”

---

“Hi, Igoryok, how was school?”

“Hi, Mama. It was good. We learned about the letter ‘m’ today. Mama, did you know ‘m’ goes ‘mm’?”

“It does? I thought it sounded different.”

“No, Mama, you’re silly. Your name starts with an ‘m.’”

“Huh, I think you’re right. Did you know that, babe? Mama starts with an ‘m,’” Natasha winked at you.

“No, I didn’t know that, but thank you for sharing that with me,” you smiled back. “You're not going to say hi to me, Iggy?”

“Hi, Mom. Your name starts with ‘m’ too.” Igor bent over the center console in between the two of you. “Can we get ice cream? Please?” Your wife laughed before turning to you.

“I’m not too sure what that has to do with letters, but what do you say, Mom?” Nat asked, a smirk on her face as she emphasized the first letter.

“Um, it does because…” The two of you watched, amused, as Igor’s face scrunched up in concentration. Suddenly, he lit up, a grin overtaking his expression. “It does because ice cream starts with an “i”! And my name starts with an “i” too, Mamas. Which means I should get some ice cream.” He paused for a moment upon seeing the two of you glance at him expectantly. “Please?”

“You’re very right, Ig,” you smiled. “And for that, we can go get ice cream. But I thought you would’ve wanted to go to the park. We brought your bike.”

“You did?” His baby-tooth grin only grew when he turned to see the lime green metal and black handlebars peeking out of the trunk. “Yes! Mama, c’mon, let’s go!”

“You need to buckle up, Igoryok, or we’re not going anywhere.” The four-year-old rushed to his car seat. The minute he was settled, he began squirming again.

“Can we still get ice cream after?”

“Sure, Iggy,” you laughed. Nat removed her right hand from the steering wheel and rested it on your thigh.

“Alright, let’s go.”

“Mama, you took the training wheels off, right?”

“Yep,” your wife grunted, lifting the bike out of the car and placing it on the pavement.

“Mom, watch me! I’m going to ride it all by myself! Today’s the day, I can feel it!” You managed to grab him by the shoulders just before he could hop on the bike.

“Not so fast, what are you forgetting, buddy?”

“Uh, a positive attitude?”

“That’s important, but I think you have plenty of that right now,” you smiled. “Try again.” Igor bit his lip as he thought about what he could possibly be missing.

“I love you?”

“I love you too, but still not it. You remember this?” He groaned when he saw the helmet in your hands.

“I don’t need it, Mom. I won’t fall, I promise!”

“I like that promise, but I still need you to promise to wear this. Okay?”

“But I don’t want to,” he pouted, crossing his arms over his chest. Your wife bent down to reach Igor’s eye level.

“Igoryok, can I tell you a secret?” Igor’s tresses bounced as he turned his gaze to Nat, his eyes filled with skepticism. “Well, you know how Mama wears her helmet whenever she goes out on her bike? You wanna know why I do it?”

“Why?” he asked, his skepticism fading into intrigue.

“It helps me balance and makes me go faster. I can’t ride as well as I do without it. In fact, I think I might even fall off.”

“Really? But you’re so good, Mama!” Eyes closed, Nat shook her head.

“Only with my helmet. And only when I wear it correctly. Otherwise I’d fall right off and get hurt. So can you promise to wear your helmet correctly so that you go faster and don’t fall off?”

“Okay, Mama. Can you put it on for me though? I think you’ll do it better.”

“I’d love to, Igoryok.” You flashed Nat a grateful smile as she took the helmet from you to secure it on his head. “Alright, all set. You go get warmed up, yeah?”

“Okay, Mama, but hurry up!”

“I’ll be there in a second, rybka.” Natasha stood up and wrapped an arm around your waist. “Don’t let him see me riding the motorcycle when I’m on a mission.” You stifled a laugh, letting your head rest on her shoulder as you watched Igor waddle around on his bike, his sneakers lighting up every time they hit the pavement.

“I’ll try my best. Have I told you how good of a mother you are?”

“Yes, you have. Multiple times.” You didn’t have to look at Nat to know her cheeks were quickly becoming the same shade as her hair. “I just hope he’ll be this easy to convince when he’s not four.”

“We’ll, uh, cross that bridge when we get to it. Besides, it’s a little easier to convince him when he sees you as his hero.”

“Stop with the flattery,” the spy groaned, now extremely flustered.

“But you make it so easy. And so fun.” You squealed immediately after the last word and pulled yourself away from your wife. “Why’d you poke me?”

“Don’t act all innocent, you know exactly what you did.”

“I’m not acting innocent, I am innocent.”

“Are you now?” Natasha stalked towards you, a smirk on her lips and a mischievous glint in her eye. Before she could reach you, though, Igor pushed his way in between the two of you with his bike.

“C’mon, Mama! I warmed up!” With one last glance at you, Natasha sighed.

“Alright, let’s go, Igoryok. You just watch your back, babe. I’ll get you.”

“Ooo, Mom’s in troubleee,” Igor chanted, and with that, they were off.

“Mom! Look at me! I’m going to get it on this one, I can feel it!”

“I’m watching!” you promised despite having never taken your eyes off of Igor and Natasha the whole time. Igor flashed you a grin in response before putting his feet on the pedals. Natasha murmured something in his ear as he started pedaling. She had one hand on the handlebars and one on his back to keep him steady. The pair moved together for a few seconds until Igor began to speed up. Half-running, half-jogging, your wife finally let go of the bike with a firm push to your son’s back, and much to everyone’s delight, he kept going.

“Mom! I’m doing it! I’m really doing it!”

“Pay attention to what’s in front of you, Igoryok!” Natasha called when he began to swerve. Eyes wide, Igor managed to correct himself before he crashed into a tree. You got up from the bench and ran to meet the former assassin, but you kept your eyes on Igor the whole time.

“I guess this family has two biker babes now.”

“I guess we do. Look at him go, malyshka.” Her chest was puffed out, obviously proud of her son, his tongue poking out of his mouth slightly as he concentrated on turning around. Your eyes shot open when it seemed like he was going to fall, but he regained his balance and increased his speed twofold on his return to you. “Maybe we should try for another.”

“What?”

“Another, uh, what’d you call it? A biker babe?” Natasha barked out a laugh as you moved to slap her shoulder. “I mean, Igor’s been asking for a sibling for a while now. Maybe it’s time.” Natasha maintained her glance on your son, too nervous to meet your eyes.

“Another biker babe, huh? Or maybe another little fish?”

“Another rybka, yes,” Nat chuckled.

“Maybe it is time.” The former assassin’s shoulders relaxed as you slipped your hand into hers. “A girl this time?”

“We’ll see. It is what Igor’s been asking for, but...” A smirk played on your wife’s face as she remembered when you two first learned you’d be having a son.

“Natasha Jr.?”

“Oh god, no!” your wife laughed.

“Natalia? Natalie?” Natasha buried her face in your neck so that her lips were pressed to your shoulder. She still peeked out slightly to keep an eye on your son.

“Babe, we are not naming the baby after me.”

“What about for her middle name?” Your wife groaned as she hit your arm, but you could feel her lips curving upward.

“No.” Natasha paused, her lower lip stuck between her teeth. “What do you think about Karolina? It means ‘free man.’”

“Karolina,” you repeated. You would’ve teased her about already having a name picked out, but the constant shifting of her right foot told you this maybe wasn’t the right time. “I like it.”

With Igor quickly approaching, you ended the conversation with a peck to Nat’s cheek and bent down to greet your son. When he made it to the two of you, he immediately hopped off of the bike and ran into your open arms.

“I did it, Mom! Did you see me? I turned around too!”

“I did, Iggy! You did so, so good!” You pulled the boy onto your hip. “Don’t tell Mama, but I think you might’ve gone even faster than her.” Igor giggled, wrapping his arms around your neck.

“You think so?” he whispered.

“I know so.”

“Ahem, what are you two saying?” Nat had her hands on her hips as her foot tapped the ground, this time out of fake anger rather than nerves.

“Nothing, Mama. Did you see me? I did good, right? And my helmet helped me stay on!”

“I’m very proud of you, Igoryok. Both Mom and I are,” she murmured, tilting her head to avoid the helmet and kiss his cheek. “So now that you know your helmet is good, you have to promise us to wear it whenever you go on your bike, you got it?”

“Got it.” His locks bounced as he nodded his head. “I’m going to go again, okay, Mamas? And then later we can get ice cream?”

“You got it, bud.” You let him down, his legs wiggling before he reached the ground. The second he hit the surface, he was off.

---

You cherished every time you got to see Igor hit a milestone. You and Nat had each missed some—like you being away the day he scored his first soccer goal or Nat going on a mission during his first Halloween—but when you did, the other made sure to talk about it in so much detail you felt like you were there.

And when you were all there together… Your heart filled with pride whenever Igor did something new, but that feeling was nothing in comparison to seeing your son’s pride in himself and having Nat there next to you to experience it. Each milestone of Igor’s was so much better than you could’ve ever imagined because, with each one, you got to see your little boy growing, thriving. For each new accomplishment, you could feel the love between the three of you, practically pull it out of the air, make a cocoon out of it, and wrap yourself in it for weeks on end. Your little boy’s milestones weren’t just for himself, but it was for your family as a whole, the three of you growing closer and stronger with each step. You couldn’t wait to see what he would do next.

-----

Read Chapter 2 here

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff #avengers x reader #marvel #mcu #I wrote something #alwaysmarveling #stones

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jaehyunfirstlove · 3 years

Note

CONGRATS ON YOUR 1K MILESTONE <3 can i please request a dad!jaehyun smut? 🥺💗

Pairing: single dad!jaehyun x teacher's aide!f. reader

Genre: fluff, smut (18+ only)

Warnings: cheesy flirting, unprotected sex, oral sex (f. receiving)

Word count: 2k

A/N: aaaanndd another one i got carried away with lol! hope you like it, anon, and thanks for sending it in!

It was the first day of school and also your first day on the job as a teacher’s aide, and you were ushering the kids into the building when you noticed a boy standing off to the side, clinging to his dad’s leg. You noticed his dad had bent down, attempting to encourage the boy to enter the school with the rest of his classmates, but the boy just shook his head, holding even tighter to his dad’s leg. You walked over to see if you could help.

“Hi there!” you said in your sweetest voice, addressing the boy, “you must be Jeffrey. I’m Ms. L/N, your teacher’s helper.” You held out your hand for him to shake, but he just buried his face further into his dad’s leg.

“I’m sorry,” Jeffrey’s dad shrugged, looking at you with anxious eyes, “he’s just really shy since he doesn’t know anyone.”

“It’s fine,” you smiled, suddenly struck with how attractive Jeffrey’s dad was. Indeed, most of the parents and teachers milling about in the school yard were staring at him. “I’ve been trained for this sort of thing,” you reassured him. You bent down to be eye level with Jeffrey.

“I’m new too, just like you,” you told him, and this got his attention, as he peeked at you from behind his dad’s leg. “And I see you like Pokemon,” you continued, pointing at the keychain on his backpack. Now you really got his attention, and he finally emerged from behind his dad’s back. “I have some Pokemon stickers in the classroom, do you want to see them?”

Jeffrey nodded, smiling widely as he took your hand and followed you into the building. You glanced back at his father, who smiled gratefully at you, and you felt a stutter in your chest at the sight of the dimples that emerged in his cheeks.

---

Over the next few weeks Jeffrey became really attached to you, bonding with you over your shared love of Pokemon. He would sometimes play with the other kids, but mostly he would shadow you as you did your rounds during recess. He’d even opened up to you, telling you how his parents had separated and he’d moved into the area with his dad. You were intrigued by the story, by this sweet little boy who obviously missed his home, and a doting dad who had upended his life to take care of his son.

One day, Jeffrey’s dad was late to pick him up so you offered to stay with him while he waited. When Mr. Jeong finally pulled into the parking lot, he was frazzled, apologizing to you profusely for being late to pick up Jeffrey.

“I’m so sorry,” he’d put his hands together in a placating gesture, his eyes pleading, and you couldn’t help but smile at how endearing it all was. “I had a meeting that went late at work, I promise it won’t happen again.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, and he looked at you in surprise. “Mr. Jeong, those aren’t the kinds of promises you should be making,” you said jokingly. You’d only meant to lighten the tone of the situation, but he looked at you then, gears whirring in his head.

“Well Ms. L/N, what kinds of promises do you suggest I make, then?” he tilted his head at you, and your brain was busily trying to decipher if he was being flirtatious or not. You noticed that Jeffrey had wandered off to kick at the wood chips in the playground, and therefore couldn’t hear your conversation, so you decided to be bold.

“Maybe… the kind where I can benefit too, Mr. Jeong?” you raised your eyebrows at him, and he broke into a wide grin.

“You can call me Jaehyun,” he said, his eyes twinkling as he regarded you.

“Then you can call me Y/N,” you answered, then leaned in, whispering, “but not in front of Jeffrey.”

He laughed, a beautiful, velvety sound that was like music to your ears. “How’s this for a promise then,” he put a finger to his lips, pretending like he was thinking hard, “I promise that I’ll be on time to pick you up for our date this Friday night.”

“Is that your way of asking me out?” you asked cheekily.

“Yes? Do you accept?” he asked, now a little unsure but still encouraged by your lighthearted tone.

“I accept,” you nodded, “but let’s see if you can keep that promise.”

---

Friday night came and Jaehyun was indeed late, but just by a few minutes. You couldn’t help but tease him about it the entire time you were out together, and he took your teasing with a very good nature that impressed you. When it finally came time to take you home, he was silent as he walked you to your door, his face pensive.

“Everything okay?” you asked, noticing the change in his demeanor and wondering if you’d done or said something wrong.

“Yeah, I just… I just haven’t done this in a while… the whole dating thing,” he said hesitantly, running a hand through his hair. You noticed he would do that when he was shy or embarrassed, and to you it was the most endearing thing.

“I get it,” you nodded, “so there’s one new rule you need to know about.”

He looked at you questioningly. “What is it?”

“Well, breaking a promise on the first date means you have to come inside and have a coffee with me.”

He suppressed a smile, nodding his head and furrowing his brow. “Ah I see. Well, I would hate to break the rules, so let’s do it.”

When the coffee was done and a lot of heavy looks had been exchanged, but no actual move had been made, Jaehyun got up from the sofa with a sigh.

“Well I guess I’d better go, it’s getting late and the babysitter needs to get home.” Rubbing a hand on the back of his neck, he clearly seemed hesitant to leave, but he knew his responsibilities, something about him you really respected.

“Of course,” you responded, but you didn’t want him to leave either. When he turned his back to you, you had the sudden urge to touch him, just to be close, so you placed your hand gently on his back. At your touch he stopped and turned to you, and before you knew it he was gathering you in his arms, kissing you gently, tentatively, his lips soft and warm against yours. You sighed into his mouth, and that made him grip you tighter, and soon enough the kiss became heated and you had the sudden urge to rip his clothes off. But he eventually pulled away, ever so reluctantly, resting his forehead against yours as he tried to breathe properly again.

“I really have to go,” he said, and before you could pull him back and tempt him some more he walked towards the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow at school,” he winked at you, before pulling your door closed behind him.

---

The next time he asked you out he surprised you by inviting you over to his place, saying he wanted to flex his cooking skills. You asked where Jeffrey would be and he said he’d be staying over at a cousin’s for the weekend, and that gave you an inkling that you’d have more than just dinner in store for you.

You showed up at his door wearing your most killer outfit, and it definitely had that effect, because when he opened his door and took one look at you he looked like he was going to have a heart attack.

“Ms. L/N? Is that you?” his mouth had dropped open, eyes roaming all over your figure hungrily.

“Yes it is, Mr. Jeong. Do you not approve of what I’m wearing?” you asked innocently.

“I believe it violates every article of the dress code,” he said, shaking his head.

“Does that mean I have to take it off?” you asked with a smirk, and that was enough for him. He pulled you inside, slamming the door closed behind you, his hands rough and needy on your body as he pulled you to him.

“A violation like that requires a hands-on punishment,” he growled, in between sucking on your lips and then your neck, “which means I get to take it off you.”

He pulled you towards his bedroom, both of you stumbling over Jeffrey’s toys while he apologized between kisses and you alternated between giggling and moaning as his hands squeezed your ass, and then your breasts.

“Oh, Jaehyun,” you moaned, when he finally got you onto his bed, his body engulfing you as he hiked your skirt up to your hips. He groaned deep in his throat when he found you bare, his hand going straight to your pussy.

“Ms. L/N you are naughtier than I thought,” he said, shaking his head in awe, and you only had a moment to smile devilishly at him before he bent down and sucked your clit into his mouth.

You cried out, your body reacting instantly to the way he was pleasuring you, his eyes dark and hooded as he watched you fall apart. You threaded your fingers into his hair as you felt your orgasm coming on, biting your lip to keep from screaming as he continued to suck harshly, like you were the sweetest lollipop he’d ever tasted. Your orgasm came hot and fast, and instantly he released your abused clit, hastily pulling off his clothes before hovering over you.

You looked up at him, eyes half-lidded, lips flushed and shiny with your juices, his beautifully styled hair now falling messily into his eyes. “Are you going to give me my punishment now, Mr. Jeong?”

He smirked, before he reached down, peeled your dress off of you, slowly. Once it was off he ran his hands all over your body, admiring, watching your reaction as he flicked a nipple, or dipped a finger into your folds. When he had you panting and whining for more, he slid his cock into you, so deep that your back arched off the bed and your fingers dug into his skin.

“Y/N,” he groaned huskily into your ear, losing himself in the feel of you as he drilled you into the mattress, “fuck, you feel so good.”

You couldn’t even respond, every sound stuck in your throat as his cock hit you in just the right spot. You clung to his shoulders, his hips snapping into you so hard you’d be surprised if you didn’t have bruises by morning. The knot in your stomach started to form ridiculously fast, spurred on by the sounds he was making as he fucked you, low, deep, from the base of his throat, the reverberations in his chest going straight to your core.

“Jaehyun, fuck, that feels good, just like that,” you moaned, and your encouragement fueled him, his pace quickening.

“Like that, baby?” he asked, watching as you started to fall apart. He tweaked a nipple, and as your mouth opened to cry out, your orgasm finally hitting you, he crashed his lips against yours, swallowing your cries as you came, your body shuddering, pussy pulsing around his cock.

He released your lips to let you breathe, but he continued pumping into you, pulling you flush against him and pressing sloppy kisses to your neck. His thrusts started to stutter, and with one last deep thrust that took your breath away, he came with a low groan, face buried in your neck.

You were both breathing hard, bathed in sweat, but he still stayed inside you, nuzzling into your neck. You ran your fingers through his hair, and soon enough he pulled back to look at you, his eyes soft.

“I haven’t done that in a long time, so I hope it was okay,” he said sheepishly, a blush creeping up to the tips of his ears.

“Mr. Jeong,” you smiled, continuing to card your fingers through his hair, “I give you an A plus for that.”

#jaehyun imagines #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun smut #nct imagines #nct smut

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queenshelby · 3 years

Text

Time for Change – Part One

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: None

Words: 1,193

Notes: Not based on Cillian’s life. This is fiction guys!

The spring weather had finally kicked in and you celebrated the warmth of the day with a floral dress. Though modest, the dress was more revealing than he'd see your wear before. Sitting mid-thigh, it had thin adjustable straps and a low cut and ruffled neckline. Your body was curvy, but strong; soft in the right places, and filled out that dress like no-one else could. The gentle breeze played at the dress' hem as you walked, showing glimpses of your smooth tanned upper leg. Your hair was long and fell is soft waves down your back and framed your face.

Cillian admired your body and the way the dress moved with you as you approached him even though he knew that he shouldn’t have. He was married to your step-sister and he shouldn’t be looking at you like this. It wasn’t right.

‘Cillian, how are you?’ you asked as he welcomed you in with a hug and kiss on the cheek as usual. But he let his hand linger on your lower back just a fraction longer than he probably should have and, as he pulled away he wondered if you noticed.

‘Hey, uhm, come in and thank you again for teaching the kids’ Cillian said and your face gave nothing away and he moved towards the kitchen to make a coffee.

‘Is Danielle not home?’ you asked surprised, not seeing any sign of her. You weren’t particularly close and didn’t talk much but, usually, she was at home when you came around for the boys’ piano lessons. Being a music teacher had its advantages and you were always willing and eager to teach your friends’ and family’s children for free. Cillian and Danielle’s children were no different and, in your opinion, they were immensely talented and you adored spending time with them.

‘She is staying with her mother for a while’ Cillian huffed out before offering you a cup of coffee which you gladly accepted. You never met Danielle’s mother, although you shared the same father.

You dropped your bag by the front door and followed him. He could feel your eyes on his back and he wondered what you were thinking when he told you that his wife had walked out on him for second time within the past four months.

‘She just left you, again, without the boys? Why would she?’ you asked surprised, wanting to know how to handle their lessons. They were only 10 and 12 years old and you were somewhat concerned about the current circumstances.

‘Well, as usual, she left without any sort of explanation’ Cillian said rather frustrated.

‘Fuck Cillian, I am sorry’ you said, looking around for a second to make sure that his boys didn’t hear you.

Sitting in your usual seat at the counter you talked while he made your coffee, checking in and updating each other on your somewhat troubled lives.

As you sat on the stool chatting about your marriage troubles with your husband James, you leaned slightly forward offering him a perfect view of your ample cleavage, causing Cillian to blush.

‘I suppose life has it’s challenges, huh?’ you eventually chuckled and your soft laugh brought him back but the look in your slightly narrowed eyes was, for once, unreadable. He realised then that you had asked him a question, but he'd been so caught up in his musings that he hadn't noticed. But you'd definitely noticed him staring at your breasts.

“Uhm yes, it does” Cillian eventually responded and you sat up straight and you both ignored his lapse. He gave your your cup, and without warning or invitation you took your coffee to the lounge room. He followed you. You sat on the large couch next to the piano, tucking your legs underneath yourself as you sat. Your dress falling a little to one side, he again caught just a glimpse of your upper thigh.

"So, this is my plan for the boys, what do you think?” you asked.

“Pretty impressive. You should teach my how to play this” Cillian chuckled and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Your piano skills are much better than you lead on Cillian. I’ve heard you play at Danielle’s birthday last year” you said, which was shortly after you moved to Dublin after having spent the past ten years in America with your husband.

The reasons you sought to return to Ireland were your husband’s numerous indiscretions when working at a large corporation in New York. He had one affair after another until you had enough and requested a transfer back to Dublin, forcing him to break it off with his secretary.

You knew you shouldn’t have forgiven him, but you did it for your daughter who you had adopted six years ago, giving her the best life possible. An intact home, close to family.

But, what you hadn’t told anyone was that, two days ago, the last straw had been drawn when your husband informed you that he had to return to New York for two weeks to attend a business conference, a conference which you found out didn’t even exist.

Cillian’s situation wasn’t much better than yours. Danielle and him had broken up on numerous occasions throughout the past two years and he thought that, by staying with her, he was doing the right thing. But this was no longer sustainable and he found himself conflicted about what he wants in life.

As your conversation about music and playing the piano flowed, you occasionally touched his arm. It was your innocent way of connecting with him, of showing him you were there. You meant nothing by it, but today your touch sent electricity through him, into his core and he had to use everything he had to resist reaching out for you.

Luckily for him, within less than five minutes, his sons arrived in the living room, ready for their lessons and Cillian got up and left you to it.

***

After about an hour, when you were ready to leave, Cillian thanked you for coming over and, again, you gently touched his arm.

‘You are welcome’ you said with a warm smile, causing him to take in a deep breath.

‘I hope Danielle is back soon’ you then said before continuing. ‘But, in case that she isn’t, do you want me to come over and cook you and the boys dinner tomorrow? James is in New York and I get a bit lonely at home’ you asked politely.

‘The boys are going to camp for three nights with the local football club’ Cillian then said and you nodded before, after a small pause, asking him whether he would like to come over to your house for dinner by himself then.

‘Uhm, I am not sure if that would be appropriate’ Cillian then said, already struggling being around you. The small touches and gestures were almost too much for him especially since, the last time him and Danielle were intimate, was six months ago and they’ve been doing nothing but fighting ever since.

‘It’s just dinner Cilly’ you reassured him and he reluctantly agreed.

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#cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy #Cillian Murphy x Reader #cillian murphy imagine

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rotshop · 3 years

Note

I loved the interpretation, but ye. I think I might’ve been too vague as well. I meant as though it’s like the first manifestation of 111a, and Jeb ends up finding Reader in the aftermath of it, very much wounded. But I still appreciate your writing and ideas! You don’t have to fix if it’s too much to ask!! Hope you have a great day!!!

hell yea hell yea hell yea ,, as much as i love straight angst hurt / comfort is good shit,,, sorry these took so long and if they aren't rlly up to par !!

also hope a mix of drabble / hcs is all good ,,

tw ; talk of injury [not highly detailed], some brief talk of hallucinations [not highly detailed, past experiences]

w when the s/o is injured! [I'll come up with a better title later, maybe]

You'd gone out on your own little scouting trip. Nothing too grand, just wanting to investigate a nearby complex to look for any loose supplies. Neither you nor your partner had ever seen anyone go in or out of it, meaning the chance of anyone squatting there was pretty low. Initially, he'd been hesitant to let you go on your own despite that low risk. He would be busy with his own tasks, meaning he wouldn't be able to join you, leaving him to just hope you'd end up alright. Sure, he would be able to heal or -god forbid- revive you if needed, but it didn't mean it hurt any less. Though, you'd brushed his concerns off, reassuring him you'd be fine and back before sundown.

It'd started off well enough, spare ammo and medical supplies littered throughout the floors. Admittedly, you'd been a little nervous yourself, something about the sight of the greyed cemented building looming over caused you to lose your wits briefly. Though, with newfound confidence gained in your earnings, you slowly got more and more comfortable. It was quiet, the only other noise being your own footsteps and occasional murmuring. It was..calming, actually. It was hard to find many places in Nevada where there weren't gunshots or zeds groaning to drown out your own thoughts.

Eventually though, you'd felt it. Some shift in the corner of your eye that'd caused you to stand and straighten from your crouch as you'd inspected a package. Despite you glancing around the area and standing still for several moments, you weren't able to see anything that would've been the source of your vision. So, with a bit of hesitance, you'd brushed it off and returned to your scouring. It wasn't uncommon to simply think you saw something when you didn't, an unfortunate reality you'd had to face several times before.

Then you saw it again. Then another time. Then another. Again. Once more. And again.

It'd started to get on your nerves. Well, no, it'd started to get on your nerves after the second time. Now, it was tearing them apart, flakes and shreds falling like snow. You couldn't stand still, couldn't turn your back to any open space without feeling sickening dread. So, here you were with your back against the wall (literally) and weighing your options as your eyes never found any still, darting across the space endlessly.

On one hand, you didn't want to be there a second longer. You simply wanted to take what you'd shoved in your bag and run. You wanted to run home and forget this whole thing ever happened and brush it off as your mind playing tricks on you. On the other, you didn't want to leave. You didn't think you could leave. The thought of making a run for it only to be grabbed by the back of the neck and pulled back into the thick of it..that was your last nerve.

You'd finally stilled your gaze on a mass in another room, the last panel of glass blurring it as it shifted and moved. You couldn't make out any real coherent shape of it, just lines that overlapped and intersected to further confuse you. You knew you wouldn't be able to leave not knowing what exactly you were dealing with. It had to have noticed you already anyway, given the noise you'd made tripping over yourself and knocking things over when the nerves had first started to fray.

So, reluctantly, you'd pulled a dagger from your belt and started stalking closer.

You could hear the blood rushing in your ears, feel the shakiness of each breath as they felt like they were barely even there, feel the adrenaline that made your hands tremble. It was awful, a silent agony with no real cure. Finally, the door loomed in front of you, rusted knob mocking you in whispers and hisses. The uneven metal felt like nothing in your hand.

There was a pause. A beat. Then, you'd shoved the door open, weapon white-knuckled in your grip as you were fully prepared for an unknown enemy.

But that didn't happen.

It kicked in after a moment when you felt no shove. No yell, shout or even a growl fell on your ears. It was like every other room had been, quiet and still. You'd blinked, turning to the 'mass' you'd seen through the window pane. It was a cat.

A cat.

You were scared out of your mind, by a cat.

The laugh felt surreal as it tumbled awkwardly past your lips and onto the cold floor. It was humiliating but oh-so-relieving, a fate you accepted with sealed lips and a forgetful front. You'd placed your blade away carefully, struggling a bit even as adrenaline subsided to leave your hands growing still. A smile found it's way on your lips as you stepped closer carefully.

"Well, aren't you just the cutest little thing.." You'd hummed quietly.

The cat gave a little 'mew' in response, seeming to agree with you. Or not. Who knows. I sure don't and neither do you.

You'd reached out to gently stroke it's matted fur, hoping it wouldn't mind. Though, as you were just inches away from it, it'd looked up a bit just past you before reacting. Stretching its back defensively as its fur stood up on end, claws drawing out as an angry yowl came to life in its throat. Your hand retracted immediately, taking a moment to process before you'd gingerly made to look behind you.

You didn't get to see what it was. It all went black.

-when you came to you could hear the familiar muttering of your partner. it was a sound you'd grown long accustomed to from just how often you heard it. Sometimes it was just Jeb talking to himself aloud, him always jumping a bit before snapping his attention to you when you'd interrupt (typically by accident). This time though, it was a little more frantic. Utters of curses and something else (apologies? it was hard to tell, your head was still pretty foggy) falling from his lips

-It'd taken a few moments before you had the energy to give a weak little 'hey,' but even that was enough to make him dart up to meet your gaze before throwing his arms around you. admittedly, it DID hurt a little but nothing too bad, just sore and sensitive.

-"You um..alright?"

-"Am I alright? [name], you nearly DIED out there! I should be asking you that," came his retort.

-yeah hes. worried to say the least. he's always been a little guarded with his more vulnerable side, preferring to keep his insecurities and fears for a specific time and place rather than baring them immediately and openly. So, seeing him so obviously panicked and nervous over you was. an experience.

-he makes you get a lot of rest lmao. you'll try and get up to go get something and he'll just kinda. put a hand on your chest or shoulder and push you back down hrecjwe (gently, of course). he just!! prefers getting things for you, he wants to make sure you're taking it slow as you heal (yeah, he can heal you with the halo but the soreness is still a bitch and-a-half to deal with).

-he takes a little more time off his work to keep an eye on you, though he's still writing a lot of notes n shit down while he sits with you. BUT. it is very easy to convince him to set it aside and cuddle with u lol. he cannot say no to you when you look up at him like that and hold ur arms out to him. he's only human leave him alone !! (/j)

#jebediah christoff x reader #jebus x reader #madness combat imagines #madcom x reader #madcom imagines #madness combat x reader #rot writes

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cas-kingdom · 3 years

Text

Bad Blood

A/N: Set towards the end of season 3.

Title: Bad Blood

Summary: After Peter discovers Neal stole the ship’s treasure, you’re worried he’ll be mad at you for keeping the secret.

Words: 2310

The problem with loving your brother so much you couldn’t possibly do something to put him in jail, despite your personal opinions, is that it puts you in an awkward position.

You had never had that problem. From the age of three, you’d gone everywhere with Neal. You’d grown up among thieves and criminals, and that’d been all you’d known. Until Neal was caught, and you’d lived a more subdued life for four years, learning things and picking up what it meant to have a normal life. You’d grown your own opinions, stemming from the simplest of things, and slowly come to realise that there was a life outside your brother’s antics.

Maybe that was why Neal hadn’t told you about the treasure. Perhaps he’d thought you might tell Peter. He should have known, though, that you’d never do that. So, more plausibly, maybe he’d simply wanted to keep you safe. Maybe he hadn’t wanted to put you in that kind of position – stuck between him and Peter. He’d been doing that a lot in the year and a bit he’d been out of jail; keeping secrets, only letting you in on what he thought you needed to know. It was a swerve in your relationship, and it was constantly hitting obstacles.

Peter had taken you aside a while after the fire and asked you if Neal had stolen the treasure. You could still remember the flurry of emotions that had hit you then.

“I need to know,” Peter said. His voice was gentle. He was leaning on his forearms, staring at you from his place behind his desk. His eyebrows were raised, and you would have squirmed uncomfortably if you knew what he was talking about.

You sputtered for a moment, glancing down at the floor, before shaking your head and looking back up at him. “Neal?” you asked. “You- you think Neal stole the treasure?” Peter lifted his chin and leaned back against his seat. “I thought it was all lost in the fire.”

Peter sighed. “We did, too,” he said. “But… we found something that leads us to think otherwise.”

Your frown deepened. You turned your head, just about seeing Neal immersed in conversation with Jones. He glanced up for a moment, your eyes meeting, and he gave you a questioning look. You bit the inside of your cheek and turned back around to look at Peter, who was watching you intently.

“I don’t know, Peter,” you said honestly.

Peter nodded. “If you did…” He tilted his head a little. “Would you tell me?”

It wasn’t an interrogative look that he was giving you. He loved you. Every moment he was with you was spent treating you as his own. But that love included protecting you, even from your brother, and he wanted – needed – to be sure that you weren’t withholding anything from him that could put you behind bars, because he knew he’d rather be behind them himself than let you go.

You bit your lip, absently fidgeting with your fingers. You glanced up and shrugged.

Peter nodded slowly. “Alright,” he said. He couldn’t say he hadn’t expected that response. He drew in a deep breath and stood up, rounding the desk. He leant down and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “As long as you’re safe, kid. That’s all I ask. Don’t get yourself caught in something I can’t get you out of. And… try get that in your brother’s head, too. You know where I am if you need me.”

Really, it should’ve been obvious to you that Neal had stolen it. You hadn’t wanted it to be – it was for that reason you’d never told Neal that Peter had even asked you about it – but you knew the man better than you knew anyone and anything. If the opportunity was presented, he would grab it up.

You’d cried after overhearing Neal and Mozzie discussing the treasure. They’d been quiet, whispering among themselves, and Neal should have known really that you wouldn’t have been asleep. He’d heard you sob, your pillow over your head, and got up from his chair so fast he’d knocked it over. Eyes wide, heart pumping, mind whirring, he’d slid into the bed beside you. You’d pushed him away, but he’d stayed, he always stayed, and he’d slept with you until morning, your back to him, his hand on your shoulder. You hadn’t talked about it the next day, and you’d been blunt with him since. You figured he’d worried you would tell.

“You have the treasure!”

You could hear Peter’s words. You’d been sat at the table when he’d come in, telling them Elizabeth had been taken, and you’d decided then and there that if Neal didn’t tell him, you would. Thankfully, you hadn’t had to, but the look Peter had given you after that had seared into your brain, and you hadn’t been yourself since. So, the moment Neal had been cleared – officially, anyway – you’d ached to speak to the agent.

“Peter, can we talk?”

It was a Sunday, and you, Mozzie and Neal were at Peter and Elizabeth’s for lunch. There was a sense of normality around Sunday lunch at the Burkes’. A familiarity that you had been terrified you’d lost for a moment back then.

Elizabeth and Neal were sitting outside, the both of them laughing about something or other, and Mozzie was sleeping on the deck chair he’d brought from June’s – nobody was sure why and nobody had bothered to ask. He was Mozzie, after all. You had been putting the plates away, Satchmo your shadow, and Peter had followed close behind, that smile on his face which told you he was happy. You didn’t really want that smile to disappear, and you knew he probably didn’t have anything to talk to you about, you were just being paranoid, but it would make you feel better, and you were too selfish to let that pass.

Peter glanced over his shoulder as you leaned against the kitchen counter. He nodded. “Sure,” he said, shutting the dishwasher. He turned around and crossed his arms, a look of slight intrigue crossing his face. “What is it?”

You swallowed, rolling your shoulders a little. You saw Satchmo nudge your hand with his wet nose and felt all the better for it. “I don’t…” you started, before feeling the lump in your throat stop your words. Peter, ever the concerned stand-in parent, moved forward immediately, his eyebrows furrowing together, those frown lines creasing his forehead. He stopped beside you, not wanting to invade your privacy yet needing to be there for you all the same, despite his not knowing what it was you wished to say.

He was a patient man, and so he merely stood beside you for a moment, waiting for you to speak up again. The open door was letting in the fresh breeze, the sound of Elizabeth and Neal’s laughter wafting in through it. It was the perfect day.

“I don’t want there to be any bad blood between us,” you said eventually, in a voice softer than Peter ever believed he’d heard.

He took a little while to mull your words over, staring fixedly at a spot on the floor. He shook his head as though preparing his words. “There isn’t any,” he said after a small moment, tilting his head to look down at you. When you didn’t reply, your hand on top of Satchmo’s head, he darkened his frown. “Hey,” he said, almost as softly as you. He pushed himself from the counter to move partly in front of you, taking your hands into his and waiting for you to meet his gaze. “What makes you think that?”

You swallowed again, foolishly feeling tears in the corner of your eyes. “I knew about the treasure.”

Peter made a face of realisation immediately. He squeezed your hands. “You knew about it after I asked about it,” he reassured you, shaking you a little, “you’re fine. I’m fine. We’re fine.”

“Well, I should’ve told you anyway,” you said, sniffling. “I should’ve told you the moment I found out. That’s withholding evidence… or something.”

Peter huffed a short laugh, releasing your hands only to pull you against his chest in a strong hug. “Your mind’s been working on this one for a while, huh?” he said gently, rubbing his hand up and down your back. You rested against him, eyes staring blankly ahead, lips trembling as you tried to hold the tears back. You felt Peter rest his chin on the top of your head. “I’m telling you, kid,” he said, “there’s nothing bad between us. You didn’t know about the treasure when I asked, and you said you didn’t know whether or not you’d tell me if the odd chance you found out later came up. I accepted that. That’s all that matters.” He turned his head a little, looking into the garden. As he’d expected really, Neal was craning his neck, eyes concerned even from this far away. He rose a dark brow, a silent question passing between them, and Peter nodded his head once, causing the younger man to reluctantly turn back to his conversation with Elizabeth.

Peter imagined it was difficult for both you and Neal to have someone like him in your lives. It’d always been you for a long, long while, and allowing someone in, opening up to that person like you had, was something he felt almost honoured for. Holding you in his arms like this, feeling your hands grip his shirt and your head all but bury in his chest, simply because you were worried he was upset with you, made him feel something indescribable. It was a good feeling, though. The feeling he felt when Neal did as he was told without argument, and called him his friend, and just came into work that morning because he’d decided it wasn’t the day to cut his anklet and run.

Things had changed for the Caffreys. He hadn’t known you at all before a year and a bit ago, but even he could tell that. You were letting people in. Trusting people besides yourselves and each other.

He pat you on the back and pulled away from you a little, gently putting a finger under your chin. “I don’t blame you for wanting to keep Neal safe,” he assured you. “I know it was difficult enough to keep it a secret after you found out.”

You nodded, sniffling a little. Of course it’d been difficult. It’d been the reason you’d cried yourself to sleep that night. You hadn’t wanted the task of having to make a decision, and you were only grateful – and relieved, more than anything – that you hadn’t had to.

“I think...” You glanced down for a second, glassy eyes meeting the soft brown ones of Satchmo. “I think I would’ve told you eventually.”

Peter wasn’t sure if he was surprised at that revelation. He lifted his chin a little, dropping his finger from yours. "Really?"

"Somebody would have found out in the end,” you told him. “Better it be you. You’re the only person who cares about Neal enough to fight for him.”

Peter regarded you carefully, watching as you shuffled your feet and chewed anxiously at the inside of your cheek. He hadn’t really thought about it in that way before, but now you’d mentioned it, he could see it.

It was true, what you’d said. Mozzie and Neal’s treasure-hiding hadn’t been the smartest. There’d been enough leads to have found it eventually, and definitely enough to drive whoever was following those leads to them. Those people would not have been so lenient. They wouldn’t have understood Neal’s (partly) turned over leaf. They wouldn’t have understood his kindness, and his compassion, and his general humanity. And they definitely wouldn’t have understood his need to stay in front of the bars if only to keep Y/N happy.

Peter understood it all and more. If you had told him about the treasure before he – and Keller – had found out about it himself, he doubtlessly, with a small amount of consideration and hesitation, would have decided on some way or another to give Neal the lowest possible amount of punishment he could receive for a crime such as this. He wouldn’t have thrown the guy in jail and left you without your brother for another few years of your life, and New York without Neal.

He loved you both too much to do that to either of you, or to him.

“Yeah,” he said eventually, a little distant in his tone. He looked back out at the garden, Neal’s grin threatening to split his face as he laughed along with Elizabeth. Though Peter could still see his aching need to get up and ask what he and you were talking about. That was Neal Caffrey. The first responder to all his little sister’s life choices. All except some, Peter decided, and he didn’t half mind that.

He turned back to you and gave you a smile, letting it widen as you responded with your own, half genuine one. “You’re a good girl, sweetheart,” he said quietly, “and you help me keep that man within his limitations better than anyone. Make sure you talk to him. I’m getting a little tired seeing those puppy dog eyes every day.” Your chest heaved with a breath of amusement at that, and he counted it as a victory as he pulled you towards him once more. “The only way there could be any bad blood between us is if you killed Satchmo. Or Elizabeth. Or me. Now, go out and ask the beauty, the criminal, and the winter sunbather if they want cheesecake or profiteroles for dessert.”

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flameohotwife · 3 years

Note

Okay, #41 for the fluff prompt!! (I feel so powerful, hahaha!)

41. "Darling, I love you and all but please step out of the kitchen."

This turned... long! And sad-ish in parts, so I'm sorry! Maybe more hurt/comfort? But there is still fluff. I hope you enjoy!

Rated T. 2.2k words.

“Aang? Have you seen the dumpling pan?” Katara was crouched down, head and shoulders deep in the cupboard, looking for the right pan to crisp the dumplings she was planning on making for dinner. Her husband was flitting about, albeit slower than he once could, on the other side of the kitchen with what she assumed were fruit pie ingredients for dessert. The original Team Avatar were travelling to Air Temple Island from all over the world in a few hours to celebrate the 50th anniversary of the war ending, and their 50th anniversary together. They always tried to get together the week they’d met in Ba Sing Se at the Jasmine Dragon to remember what they’d lost, and to see how far they’d come. Though Aang and Katara hadn’t gotten married until several years after the war, they always counted that day on the balcony as their anniversary, as the only thing that had truly changed with their marriage was the world’s recognition of their relationship and its permanence. They were devoted and dedicated from the very beginning. Perhaps even before that.

“Oh, I’ve got it over here, Sweetie,” Aang called back to her. She jumped up, almost bashing her head on the top of the cupboard before wriggling properly out to stand and face him. Even in his old age he still maintained a certain twinkle in his eye when he was up to something, and Katara’s hands flew to her hips when she saw it.

“What are you doing with my dumpling pan?” she asked, warily.

“I thought I’d cook tonight,” Aang replied, though his hand rubbed the tattoo on the back of his neck tellingly. “I wanted to add some Air Nomad dishes to the menu. Sokka will be bringing some Water Tribe food already, Toph and Suki will have Earth Kingdom, and Zuko and Mai will bring Fire Nation… I just thought I’d add something of my own in.”

Katara’s throat caught for a moment, as it always did when she remembered. His loss always felt bigger on anniversaries, though his grief was an ever-present emotion. It rose and fell like the tides, but was always there, under the surface. Most people saw his smiling face and kind, loving spirit and forgot that there were only two airbenders in the world and why. That Aang had actually known and loved so many of the ones Sozin had murdered. He masked his pain well, but took that mask off around Katara from time to time, when he needed to.

“Sweetie,” she began, stepping forward to grasp his wrinkled hands. “Oh Aang, I was going to make Air Nomad food, too. I would never leave you out like that.” Her tone wasn’t defensive, only calm and reassuring, as she rubbed gentle circles on the blue arrows that adorned the backs of his hands with her thumbs. She wanted to remind him with her touch that his grief didn’t have to be his alone to bear. That she would remember his people with him. Just as she had taught their children old Air Nomad fairytales when they were small, and celebrated their holidays with him, and learned to cook their food. Katara was Water Tribe through and through, but her soul was bound to an Air Nomad. Moreover, she was bound to Aang, and she always felt his loss. Even when he hid it well.

Aang melted into her, then. A hug that was so deeply meaningful it was reminiscent of the one they’d shared on Iroh’s balcony, but with all the weight of his pain crushing down on them along with that promise of love and acceptance. It was as though through this hug she was able to share that weight with him, so she held him tighter. Half a century after learning about the deaths of his people, sometimes the wound still felt fresh, and Katara was always the healing balm to whatever ailed him, even when she knew she could never heal it completely.

Katara stroked his back lovingly with one arm as he clung to her. She waited for his breathing to even out, for his muscles to relax. Waited for a sign that she had taken enough of his grief that he could function again. Finally, he moved his head to kiss her sweetly. It was wet, and salty, but his movements were lighter again. She moved her hands to his face, wiping his tears as she pulled him closer, and he deepened the kiss, wrapping his arms fully around her waist and pressing against her.

“Thank you,” he whispered. He knew his grief was never hers to bear, and yet she did so willingly and with so much love. He could never thank her enough for the way she cared for him when he hit his lowest points. He wasn’t sure he could have made it without her. Sometimes the weight on his shoulders was so heavy he felt like he would sink without her unending love and support buoying him up, keeping him afloat.

“You’re not alone, Sweetie. Never.” Katara continued to caress his face as she looked into his sparkling, sad eyes.”Do you want me to help? I can make the dumplings and the butter tea. I never quite mastered the tofu but I could try if you want…”

Aang silenced her with another kiss. “You’re wonderful,” he said, pressing his lips to hers again. “The best wife, partner, and friend in existence.” Yet another kiss. “I think I’ve got it from here. Why don’t you take a break before everyone gets here?”

Katara laughed, not quite knowing what to do with herself. She reluctantly removed her hands from her husband and settled on making herself some tea and sitting at the kitchen table to observe him. Even though he was aging, Katara still enjoyed watching him when she had a moment, whether it was bending practice, or working hard on something, or even something as simple as cooking. She still appreciated the lithe way his body moved, the smooth, airy motions he made, the way his tongue stuck out when he was concentrating…

She sat back in her chair, grinning over her teacup as she watched him chop vegetables and boil water and roll dough. Sometimes observing him do the most trivial things—like cooking dinner for friends, or braiding their daughter’s hair when she was small, or working in the garden—reminded her how lucky she was to have him in her life. He was the Avatar after all. He could have maids and cooks and servants and never lift a domestic finger in his life, but that was never in Aang’s nature. And he could have chosen anyone as his companion, but he had always and only ever chosen her. Over and over. It was somehow both humbling and assuring all at once.

After some time, she rose from her seat, walking behind him to wrap her arms around him, reveling in his warmth. She couldn’t see the smile on Aang’s face, but she knew it was there when he pressed one arm over her interlocking ones, squeezing lightly with his hand.

She leaned up to press a light kiss to the back of his neck.

“You’re awfully distracting, you know,” Aang chided. He turned in her arms to peck her on the nose. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. It’s been a while since I’ve gotten to watch you cook. I forgot how much I enjoy it.” She gave him a very pointed look and he laughed heartily.

“Well, by all means, enjoy the show,” he said, wiggling his hips for her benefit as he extricated himself from her grip to keep working. Katara giggled. She was about to return to her seat when she noticed the clutter Aang was leaving in the kitchen as he worked, and decided to help him by tackling some of that so he could focus on the food.

When Katara cooked, she was very methodical. Every ingredient, pot, pan, and chopstick had its place, and was immediately returned to that place when she had finished with it. She knew if she didn’t keep up with the mess as she worked, it would pile up to the point that she would feel overwhelmed at the end, so she tidied continually. Aang, on the other hand, was much more impulsive in his cooking. He would think of an ingredient to add mid-stir, and leave the remnants on the counter, never quite sure if he might want to add more later. He would wait to clean up all the messes at once.

There was a time in their marriage where this had driven Katara crazy. The kids were still very young at the time, and the extra mess on top of the cacophony of kid-sounds and clutter and Momo swooping around the house would become too much, so she would constantly buzz around him, taking things and washing and putting them away before he was even finished with them. He would turn around for more of an ingredient and find it wrapped up in the icebox. More than once, he had had to take Katara by the shoulders, kiss her gently, and exclaim, “Darling, I love you and all, but please step out of the kitchen.”

Now, much like in other parts of their relationship, she had learned which parts of the mess to let be, and which ones she could handle that would actually help him. She sat up with him at night while he transcribed ancient Air Nomad texts and histories; her presence a comfort as he worked through it all and felt the loss more keenly. Tenzin joined him now, of course, when he was home, but Aang still felt more able to work through his grief when she stayed too. When they were younger, she had sewn Air Nomad clothes for Aang and for the acolytes, and eventually taught the acolytes to make them herself not because Aang couldn’t sew or teach them, but because it was one of the things that they both could do. Something that she could take off of his already over-heaped plate.

They balanced each other. He was her rock on full-moon nights or when she missed her parents or when her emotional storm was raging. He was her center of calm when she was worried about the kids or about the world. But today, Aang needed her. So she washed the used dishes for him to use again if needed, and cleared the wrappings for him, being sure to leave the ingredients on the counter. She made sure to give him gentle touches as they worked; a hand to the small of his back as she passed him, a bump of the hip as they worked side by side. Loving smiles and stolen kisses as the afternoon sun fell lower in the sky.

Eventually their friends would arrive and they would be able to laugh and joke and remember together. There would be group hugs and arm-punches and happy sounds and smells would fill their home as they reminisced. Through all of it, Aang would sneak looks across the table at Katara, with a special smile reserved for her. Fifty years! They’d made it fifty years together, in no small part because of everything they had learned through their struggles as they grew together. Because of the weights and grief they shared with one another instead of bearing them alone.

“I may be old, Twinkletoes, but I can still feel your heartbeat when you look at Sugarqueen like that,” Toph jabbed as Aang snuck another glance at his wife. “How can you two be together for fifty years and still act as disgusting as when we were teenagers? I’m not going to have to pull you out of a linen closet at the official event tomorrow, am I? Because we are all too old for that.”

Knowing that she still sent his heart a-flutter the way he did to her warmed Katara’s old bones from head to toe, and she sent a look of her own towards her husband. Aang’s face reddened.

“Oh, no,” groaned Sokka. “Oogies! I’m out.” He rose from the table, pulling Suki along with him. “Dinner was great guys, and I’d like to keep it in my stomach, thanks. So, we’ll see you all in the morning when the kids get here?”

“Sounds good,” replied Zuko as he and Mai rose to join them. “We should probably turn in anyway. It’s getting late.” Aang and Katara stood as well to accompany their guests to the door before everyone went their separate ways.

“Thanks for a wonderful evening as always, guys,” Suki added as she hugged them both goodbye. “Try not to wear yourselves out too much tonight, hmm? It’s not as easy to recover as it used to be and we have a busy day tomorrow.”

Katara feigned shock at her sister-in-law’s tease but Aang only blushed further as Sokka faked retching and promptly exited with their friends. Aang was always so open about his emotions and intentions when it came to Katara, whether or not he intended to be. She simply smirked back up at him and took him by the hand, waving to everyone one last time before pulling him back to their bedroom. And, maybe they were a little extra tired the next day, but it was worth it. Loving each other through the many ups and downs of a lifetime together would always be worth it. Even when Toph berated them for it outside a linen closet door.

#kataang #kataang fanfiction #kataangtag #fluff prompts #katara #aang #atla #sweeties #slightly hurt/comfort #sorry!#adcurtis #asks

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amajikilvr · 4 years

Note

ugh i love your fluffy alphabet on tamaki 🥺 so if it's okay, can you do one for bakugou, too?

headcanon corner - katsuki bakugou sfw alphabet

word count 1.8k

reader type gender-neutral

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

In the beginning, Katsuki’s affection will come out quite stubbornly and will be harder to see at times. Later on, it’s obvious how much he cares for you. His heart is full of love despite his aggressive attitude. He’s not afraid to show PDA, no matter who’s watching, and you’re often the recipient of his rare compliments. Katsuki is always ready to say “I love you”.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

That’s a tricky one. Befriending people isn’t exactly on Katuski’s radar, but he’d prefer someone who could “keep up with him” if so to speak. Reliable helps too. This friendship might start with him genuinely, although reluctantly, praising your quirk or skills.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

“This is fuckin’ stupid,” He’ll mumble as he wraps his strong arms around you, but he’s loving every minute of it. Katsuki’s down to snuggle in front of everyone, but if you’re the one initiating, he’ll be a tad bit embarrassed and no one dares point it out. When you two are completely alone you’ll get to see his softer side and you might even be the big spoon for once.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

He’ll want to settle down in a sense that he needs to be sure that they’re his and he’s theirs. The method of doing so will depend on what’s best for both of you, but moving in together is probably in the cards. Katsuki makes a fantastic roommate because, among his many talents, cooking is one of them. He’s also a bit of a clean fanatic and you might wake up to him vacuuming or doing the dishes at 7 AM or something.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Firstly, he would fight tooth-and-nail against whatever was threatening the relationship because he’s not letting you go easily. If it absolutely came down to ending things, Katsuki would make it straight to the point and as quick as possible. He wouldn’t be able to remain ‘just friends’ with you and would never truly move on in his heart.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quickly would they want to get married?)

Katsuki is beyond committed and he firmly believes there are several ways to show it besides putting a ring on it. If you two were to eventually get married it would be later on so your careers could be focused on. He just wants you both to succeed and achieve your dreams more than anything, but if the marriage was something you really wanted, he might consider tying the knot earlier than previously planned.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Although I think Katsuki is actually a sensitive person, he can definitely be on the rough side of things. He can read and interpret others’ emotions, but relating to them can be a challenge. I don’t believe he’d ever act maliciously towards you or anyone else he cares for. He’s got a soft touch and even the occasional kind words during the most surprising times.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Katsuki’s a bigger fan of kisses, but he does love hugs! He’s always, well, touching you. Huge bear hugs. Squeezy. Warm. The type to literally lift you off of your feet. He’ll leave little tickling kisses on your neck and shoulders while whispering words against your skin.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

He’ll say the words in every possible way… besides actually saying the words. It’s like a mental block of Katsuki’s because he’s admittedly scared of proclaiming his love in such a straight-forward way. Once he gets over that first hump, it’s no problem for him. He won’t be throwing the words around like candy, but he’ll always say what’s on his mind.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Katsuki is emotional and jealousy is a familiar feeling for him. Being a bit of a hothead definitely doesn’t help either. This jealousy stems from his insecurities and can be overbearing. At the beginning of the relationship, it will probably be the cause of some arguments between you two. Later on, jealous Katsuki will just include him being extra pissy and extra cuddly.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Passionate. Always. If he’s kissing you, he’s going all the way. Even during your first kiss, he gave it his all. Sure, it was an awkward mess of spit and teeth, but he was eager and didn’t hesitate! Katsuki’s skills have improved by now and he never fails to showcase them. It doesn’t matter where, if he’s kissing you, then he’s happy. It depends on your preferences. And as for him… his neck is especially sensitive and he’ll never admit it.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Well, after the remedial lessons episode, we know he’s not very good. At all. Despite that, I can imagine him still wanting kids eventually. An “I can’t stand any kid except my own” type.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Katsuki is your typical morning person. He’s up at the same time every day and it amazes you. Well, unless you’re a morning person yourself, that is. If you’re a heavy sleeper then waking you up on time will be his new personal mission. He’ll probably make you a nice breakfast and get as many kisses as he can in before work.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Haha! This guy goes to bed at like 9-pm. He’s got a strict schedule and if you somehow manage to get him to stay up later to watch a movie with you or something, he’s gonna fall asleep on your lap and it’s adorable. It’s the perfect opportunity to play with his soft hair without having to hear him grumble about it the entire time.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

It’s going to take a while to break through his outer shell, but he’s not exactly secretive about his feelings and his past. Katsuki trusts you enough to be open with his mistakes and he won’t hide anything if you just ask.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

I think this one is a bit self-explanatory, but it’s not very often that he gets angry at you.He’s getting better at controlling his anger and you tend to bring out his gentler side too.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing or do they kind of forget everything?)

In the moment, it may seem like simply he brushes it off or doesn’t really acknowledge it, but that’s actually not the case. Katsuki always remembers and takes everything into consideration. The number of little things he keeps notes of might surprise.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

One Saturday afternoon, Katsuki decided he was going to try out a new chocolate cake recipe and you decided you’d try your hand at baking for once! He was absolutely willing to teach you and it was going well… until you somehow managed to drop an egg yolk right on Katsuki’s sock covered foot. His favorite pair of socks at that. The kitchen was quiet until he swifty flicked flour at your forehead and it was game-on from there. The next thirty minutes were filled with lots of flour and kisses.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Katsuki couldn’t be more protective of you and he’s more than willing to use his quirk if needed. He’s prepared to fight for you in the blink of an eye, no question about it. His job as a pro-hero means so much when you’re someone he has to protect, but he also knows it’s a mutual feeling. He completely believes in your own physical abilities to keep him safe and your reassuring words make him truly feel like the greatest.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

He’s certainly not lazy when it comes to your relationship, but at the same time, Katsuki finds things like fancy dates and lavish gifts kinda pointless. He couldn’t care less about eating at an expensive restaurant, all that matters is that he’s with you. That’s not to say that he won’t give you nice things because he will be spoiling you, especially on anniversaries and holidays.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

His inferiority complex has always been his biggest enemy. There are times when he just can’t shut off his competitive side and it can turn things ugly when he lets his insecurities get the best of him. His temper is also something he’s struggled with and is still learning how to manage.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Katsuki really doesn’t care about that kind of thing. Of course, it does fuel his ego and boost his confidence when you compliment his looks. He considers himself to be an attractive person, but nothing too special. (You think differently)

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

He likes to believe otherwise, but yeah, he really would. He couldn’t imagine a day without you. It’s just a scary thing for Katsuki to accept that he relies on someone other than himself for once.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

He’ll never admit it, but spiders really freak him out. Let’s just say he won’t argue if you offer to take one outside.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Someone who gives up easily would just kinda irritate him. Katsuki knows people struggle, hell, he’s definitely one of them, but seeing someone simply not try and throw in the towel when things don’t go their way is something that would get on his nerves.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

He’s somehow got a cute snore. Yup. It’s not even really a snore, more like some kind of soft breathing noise, but it’s noticeable and something you’ve grown to love. It’s also difficult for Katsuki to fall asleep in places other than his own bed.

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theclockworkmonk · 3 years

Text

Out of the Mouths of Babes — Ch 6

AO3 | FFN

Previous chapter on Tumblr

Written for Hinny Ficfest 2021

Prompt: “Uncle Ron said something about Harry knocking Ginny up, but I don’t know what he means,” Teddy said.

Special thanks to @deadwoodpecker for beta reading this chapter

********

It was Molly’s turn to catch Arthur as he swayed on his feet and nearly fainted into her lap.

Hermione’s trembling hands were clapped firmly over her mouth, her eyes bulging to the size of saucers and darting around the room, unsure of who to start questioning, lecturing, or comforting first.

Ron was standing comfortably looking very pleased with himself, taking his turn to give Hermione his best “I told you so” look.

Fleur was silently beaming.

George’s face was turning red and his lips were pressed together so tightly they were turning white, he was trying so hard to keep his flippant comments to himself.

Percy had an intense, focused look on his face like he was trying to solve a maths problem or get a joke.

Bill and Charlie were glaring at Harry with a renewed quiet venom that was more intimidating than the unrestrained threats of a few minutes earlier.

But Harry wasn’t even close to caring, because his brain was too busy with listing to him all of the reasons why he was a terrible person and how he had ruined Ginny’s life and how he had no business being responsible for a tiny helpless human. With the deathly silence of the kitchen, he could perfectly hear his pulse pounding in his ears.

Ginny was still just staring at the blue potion with a completely blank expression. Finally, she was the one who broke the silence.

“...Huh.”

That sound was like a dam breaking, and the entire family erupted into a new flood of noise, all shouting over each other.

“Okay, okay, nobody panic!” Hermione shrieked, flapping her hands and clearly panicking, “We can handle this, I’ll help Ginny make a plan! I’ll start a baby binder!”

Molly darted across the kitchen and tackled her still-stunned daughter into a crushing hug.

“Remember Ginny dear, this is a good thing and we’re all happy for you, even though I’m so sorry I failed you as a mother,” she cried.

“By that she means you both are always accepted by this family and we’ll help any way we can,” said Arthur seriously.

“Yes, feel free to floo over if you ever start feeling sick, dear,” wept Molly, clasping onto Ginny’s hands for dear life, “and I know you starve yourself for your team, but you need to eat whatever you have a craving for as soon as you crave it, even if those trainers don’t like it. I’ll be happy to cook it for you. In fact, I’ll just start coming over every day to make sure you have everything.”

Behind her, Fleur was silently fist-pumping in victory at the new target for Molly Weasley’s doting.

“Not that anybody cares,” said Ron pointedly, staring up at the ceiling with his arms crossed, “But I’m still waiting for my apology.”

That was enough to shake Ginny out of her trance and she actually chuckled. “Ronald, it’s going to take a lot more than the immediate vindication of the wanker things you say for that to happen.”

Bill and Charlie’s faces had turned a shade of purple that reminded Harry entirely too much of Uncle Vernon.

“The rising star junior Auror can’t handle rudimentary contraception magic?” Charlie growled through clenched teeth.

Harry gulped loudly enough to be heard over the cacophony. “No! This potion batch is just a dud, we’re always safe!”

Ginny gasped and grabbed Harry by the sleeve. She pulled him close and whispered, as if there were a chance everyone wouldn’t hear. “Wait, Harry, you did remember to do the Charm...erm….that time, right?” She glanced sideways at Ron and Hermione. “That time...you know...at that thing? That thing three weeks ago?”

Harry’s insides felt like they had been frozen. Apparently the look on his face betrayed him, because Ginny looked to be going through the same revelation as him.

“I….I thought you had,” he mumbled weakly.

Ginny winced and closed her eyes. “Noooooooo,” she moaned, “Harry, we established this, the one who initiates it needs to do the Charm!”

“Exactly!” said Harry, “You were the one who grabbed me and dragged me to the bathroom!”

“Only because you hadn’t taken your hand off my thigh the entire bloody dinner!” said Ginny frantically, “What was I supposed to do, just keep eating cake?”

“Wait!” said Ron loudly, and Harry and Ginny froze like trapped rabbits.

Ron glared back and forth between the two of them, the gears in his head working. “Dinner? Cake? Three weeks?”

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me!” Hermione seethed dangerously. “Seriously? At our engagement party!?”

Harry shrank away from her like a child caught in the sweets jar. “Er….would you believe that we got caught up in the romance of the moment? You know, because you two are so in love, it’s inspiring?”

“Exactly!” said Ginny, “Really, you should take this as a compliment.”

Ron had his hands over his ears and his eyes clenched shut. “Welp. I can never use that bathroom again. We have to move flats. Better yet, let’s just burn down the building.”

“So what is the Harpies’ maternity plan?” Percy asked studiously, as if this were simply a bureaucratic issue, “how soon do you plan on going on leave? Assuming, of course, you...you know….intend to go through with it”

Tense silence fell, as the misunderstanding that caused all this chaos was suddenly relevant again. Every face was looking toward Harry and Ginny with baited breath.

Ginny swallowed and cleared her throat.

“That,” she said forcefully, crossing her arms, “is none of your business. None of this is any of your business. So if you’ll excuse us, the only people whose opinions matter right now will discuss this alone.”

Without waiting for a retort, Ginny grabbed Harry by the hand and led him up the stairs. After they entered Ginny’s old bedroom and Harry closed the door behind him, she paced back and forth several times before turning to face him.

“Did you put a ward on the door?” she asked.

“And several more on our way up the stairs,” answered Harry. “We should have a while before an Extendable Ear sneaks in here.”

“Good. Very good. Cool. Coolcoolcoolcoolcool.”

An uncomfortable silence fell over them, both hesitant to look the other in the eye. Harry wanted to hug her and start reassuring her, but he also didn’t want this conversation to start, because he wasn’t sure if he was strong enough to hear what he suspected Ginny would say.

Even though he was completely panicking and sure he would find a way to spectacularly mess up raising a child, there was no doubt in his mind about at least trying his best at it. But he knew how dedicated Ginny was to her career, and how difficult this could be for her. He was sure what she was going to say, but he wasn’t sure he could withstand hearing it.

Ginny was chewing her lip, but finally broke the silence. “Look, Harry….this is a lot to take in. Neither of us planned on this happening so soon, obviously. I understand if you want to focus on your job—”

“What?” Harry couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re a professional athlete who has another human growing inside you, and it’s my job we need to worry about?”

Ginny shrugged. “Well, I could keep playing for the next few months. The team healers put a ward around your abdomen for bludgers. I would have to take a break eventually, but I’m on contract now, so I’m secured in my roster spot while on maternity leave, and they always give players a chance to earn their starting spot back.”

“Oh,” said Harry, surprised. “Well that’s….that’s good. I thought it would be more cutthroat.”

“Well, the Harpies’ whole brand is having the very best female players in Britain,” said Ginny proudly, “and having a reputation for the best maternity plan in the league makes them pretty attractive to all their prospects. It’s hard to build a core team if you permanently lose a player every time someone gets pregnant.

“So…” she said assertively, looking him in the eye. “I feel like...we can do this. I want to keep this baby. But ultimately I feel like it’s both of our decisions. I’ll understand no matter how you feel. So….what are you thinking?”

Harry felt like he was in a tug of war, between exploding from happiness or imploding from terrifying nerves. Dementors, dragons, Death Eaters, nothing was as scary as this, but he also didn’t have to think about his answer, even for a second.

His hand drifted into his pocket and he toyed with what was inside. This wasn’t how he imagined doing this, but she asked him what he was thinking, and this night had already flipped all their plans upside-down, what was a bit more?

Harry focused on Ginny’s brown eyes, still earnestly waiting for his answer, and he found the courage he always found there.

“Here’s what I’m thinking,” he said bracingly.

He dropped down to one knee.

Ginny made a high-pitched squeak and her eyes widened in shock. Harry smiled at himself, pleased that he could still catch her completely off-guard.

“I wasn’t planning on doing this soon. I was afraid you would think I was being pushy. Was going to wait a few years. Or maybe a few months. Okay, I was probably close to cracking already. And in the meantime, it still felt good to have this on me, as a good luck charm I suppose.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the small black box he had bought weeks earlier.

“Harry….” Ginny whispered, her eyes welling with tears.

“Ginny,” Harry answered. He opened the box to reveal the ring. “Will you mar—guh!”

He was cut off by a crazed redhead tackling him to the ground, grabbing his face and kissing him hard enough to knock the wind out of him. Harry’s head was spinning, but he reluctantly pushed her back.

“Gin — Gin!” he grunted between kisses. Finally, Ginny pulled back, frowning at him.

“There’s kind of a part you forgot?” Harry said pointedly, raising his eyebrows.

Ginny looked lost for a moment, then rolled her eyes. “Oh, yeah. Yes. Obviously yes, you idiot.”

She kissed him again, and he lost track of time. Eventually, his back started to get sore on the wood floor, and he pushed himself up and pulled them both to their feet.

“We can finish our own celebration later,” said Harry, smiling so wide his face was sore, “but we should probably put your family’s worries to rest. And I can’t wait to show the world your hand with this on it.” He slid the ring onto her finger, and Ginny bounced on her feet like she was eleven years old again, practicing signing the name “Ginny Potter” in a diary.

Then, her smile slipped and she groaned loudly. “Ugh, this will make my mum even more of a nightmare now. I thought she was bad in the lead-up to Bill’s wedding, she’ll be even worse since she has to be the mother to both of us.”

“Well, Bill’s wedding was nice, wasn’t it?” said Harry diplomatically.

“I mean, I guess,” Ginny shrugged, “but not nearly nice enough to be worth all the hassle. The months of my mother stressing over everything and making sure I know my part. And I was just a bridesmaid! Being the center of attention of a hundred people while wearing a cumbersome dress might be Fleur’s dream, but it sounds like the worst day of my life.”

She wrapped her arms around Harry’s waist and pulled him close. “I just care if I’m the center of your attention.”

Harry smiled even wider. “Well don’t worry, you could be wearing a burlap sack and I still won’t be able to take my eyes off you.”

“So you don’t mind backing me up when Mum breaks out the bridal magazines?” Ginny asked pleadingly. “I was never one of those girls that fantasize about an extravagant wedding; in fact, the smaller the better. We’ve never really talked about it, but I know you, so I assume you would be okay with that?”

Harry laughed loudly. “Are you kidding? Yes, absolutely. You know I’m not exactly a social butterfly. As far as I’m concerned, we could jusy floo over to the Ministry and take care of it right now.”

They both erupted into a fresh round of laughter, holding each other and clutching their sides at how funny and ridiculous the idea was.

Then, their eyes met, and their laughter faltered, growing more and more quiet until tense silence descended on the room. Their smiles dropped, and their suddenly serious eyes held a wordless conversation.

Finally, both their mouths crept back up into wide smiles, this time being full of mischief.

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neakco · 3 years

Text

The Lost Temple

Ao3 ch.2 Masterlist

Marinette and Adrien just wanted to find the temple and go back to pretending they were normal young adults.

Tim just wanted to find out what was going on for Batman and go back home.

Konner and Bart were just along for the adventure.

Neither group expected the other, nor did they expect the complications that followed.

Ch.1: Meetings

Marinette stepped carefully along the jungle floor as Adrien bounced through the trees. Every once and a while she would stop to examine a plant just as he would stop to listen.

Eventually he dropped down beside her without a sound.

“Are you sure this is the right area M'lady?”

“The monks said there were signs of people stopping around.”

“And them being worried about people snooping means this should be where we find the temple.” He nodded sagely before hopping back into the trees. “Did they ever decide to tell you at least what this temple is guarding?”

She shook her head as she stepped over a drowsing snake, “I only know that we need to find it first.”

Adrien hummed quietly before opening his mouth to taste the air.

“Anything?”

“Nothing new. We still have moss, damp, plant, running water and the normal animal smells.”

She sighed to herself, “keep up the good work Kitty, I know we'll find something eventually.”

She glanced around briefly for a flash of red that would indicate Tikki and Plagg returning. She wasn’t worried about being without their power source., not since the final battle. They had been something more than human for years now, but there was still something reassuring about the tiny gods' presence.

She looked up to see Adrien staring down a tiger and shook her head with silent laughter. So maybe he was a lot more cat than human. She thought back on everything as the tiger bowed to let her partner by.

All his physical abilities had been enhanced to the point she was jealous. Her strength had increased a little but for her it was the non-physical that had increased. Everything constantly in balance.

She brushed her hand along a small plant but still received nothing new, the temple either didn’t give off enough residual magic or it was still too far off.

As they continued their search the surrounding animals watched peacefully. They all knew better than to interfere with destruction and creation. It is almost a shame this protection didn’t extend to the trio following them stealthily.

“Rob, they are kids like us. Are you sure they're the ones B sent us after?”

Red Robin sighed, “Batman said he had picked up unusual activity and these two are the only ones we have seen.”

Kon grabbed a snake that was about to drop on Tim and gently tossed it back into the trees.

A small wind picked up as Bart came to a stop and offered them some burgers. “What did I miss?”

Tim pinched the bridge of his nose, “This is supposed to be a reconnaissance mission. Stealth.”

Bart laughed and moved to avoid a brightly coloured plant, “But that is so boring.”

“This was also a solo mission, you two weren’t invited. So please either leave or be quiet.”

Bart held out a mug of coffee that Tim accepted instantly.

“Fine, just cause chaos quietly.” He pulled out his binoculars again before putting them down to rub at his eyes. He would have sworn he saw the teens talking to some large bugs.

“I still don’t think they're dangerous.” Kon whispered almost to himself.

Tim really wondered some days why these were his best friends.

Tikki and Plagg hid quietly as Adrien grinned chaotically, “Plan mouse trap?”

Marinette returned the grin, “You know me so well Chaton.”

Tim was so close, just a little farther and he would be able to hear the teens.

Kon suddenly stuck out an arm to stop him.

“What?”

“I can’t see the guy anymore.”

Bart glanced around, “Isn’t he just in the treetops again?”

Tim reached for a weapon when a collapsible baton lightly smacked his wrist.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

The blonde had somehow gotten behind them.

All three heroes turned but before any of them could react a rope dropped around Bart and pulled him to the ground.

“You heard my partner.”

The girl was fast. Tim couldn’t figure out how she had gotten to them so quickly, until he looked down. There were at least three more loops of rope. They had walked into a trap.

Kon looked to Tim for the signal to attack but Tim wanted more information.

The blonde dropped gracefully from the trees but skillfully kept the baton pointed at Tim. “Why are you following us?”

“Why have you been disturbing the jungle?” He countered.

The girl walked up to stand beside the blonde, “We haven’t disturbed anything.”

The blonde glared, “We’re only here because you have been digging around.”

“But we only just got here.” Bart spoke suddenly out of confusion.

Tim kind of wanted to hit him.

The girl and boy exchanged a look before speaking in a language Tim had never heard before finally the boy collapsed his staff and put it away.

He offered a hand to Kon while the girl untied Bart and gathered up the remaining rope traps.

“I think we have both suffered a misunderstanding.” The girl held out a hand to Tim, “Marinette.”

“Impulse.” Bart had moved to take her hand in a blink, “It is always a pleasure to meet a lovely lady.”

The blonde laughed as Kon finally accepted the handshake, “Adrien.”

“Superboy.”

Tim could see his friend putting more strength then necessary into his grip but the blonde, Adrien, didn’t even flinch. Interesting.

Since Bart hadn’t stopped shaking the girl’s hand yet he decided to cross his arms and smile as politely as he could. “Red Robin. May I ask what misunderstanding you think we've had?”

The girl, Marinette, pried her hand away from Bart before glancing back to spot the starring contest between Adrien and Konner.

“Kitty!” She scolded before turning back to him.

He watched Adrien smile innocently at Kon before sitting down at Marinette’s side.

“We were sent to investigate the activity in this area and put a halt to it if necessary. If you just arrived then you are likely not our target.”

“They're here for the same reason we are Red.” Bart grinned widely as he bounced up and down.

Tim wanted to growl in frustration but knew that was something only Batman could get away with, so he settled on pinching the bridge of his nose. “Impulse, we are only here to gather information. We are not supposed to interfere with anything without orders to do so.”

Marinette and Adrien exchanged another secretive glance before conversing in Mandarin.

“Do you think we could recruit them M'lady?”

“That’s up to them. It would be nice to have help searching though, this is a large jungle.”

“Do you think they can even help find the temple? Superboy is supposed to have x-ray vision but, well, magic.”

Impulse was pouting, “It’s not fair that I can’t understand you. In fact it’s rude. Isn’t it rude Red?”

“I'm sorry. We aren’t used to others around us being.. “ She paused for a moment.

“Friendly?” Adrien supplied.

“That's one word to describe them.” She grimaced.

“Helpful? Polite? Non-hostile? “ Adrien's grin kept getting wider but also slightly more malicious with each suggestion. “Smart? How about, not complete and utter assholes bent on dictating every breathe? I can keep going.”

She started laughing but she could feel the concern coming from the American heroes. “I think that's good Kitty, don’t want to scare them away.”

“Sorry Mari.”

She looked back to Red Robin and Impulse in front of her. “I am sorry, we were discussing working with you three if you wanted to. We would be able to cover more ground and hopefully locate our target in under a week.”

Superboy spoke upfront behind them, “Why mention my name and not the others?”

Adrien contorted to look at the floating boy, “I was wondering if you actually had x-ray vision and if it could be useful in the search.”

Marinette was proud of Adrien, neither of them were the best at lying, so it was nice to see Superboy accept his sincerity and not ask for more in depth details. Red Robin was a different matter entirely, she could see him analyzing them. So she held out her hand.

“What do you say Red, alliance?”

Tim stared a moment before reluctantly shaking, “Agreed. We can discuss the terms as we find a place to camp for the night.”

The two teens looked confused.

“Were you seriously planning to keep going? The sun is setting.”

“Don’t you have night vision goggle or something?” Adrien asked.

Tim was flabbergasted, did these two think that the dark was the only danger they faced. “I do, but this is a jungle. Most of the predators are nocturnal “ The two still looked confused so he elaborated, “I don’t want to be eaten.”

He watched their eyes slowly widened in understanding. Marinette hit a fist into her hand, “I had totally forgotten “

“Predators are a normal threat.” Adrien finished for her with a grin.

Tim eyed them suspiciously, he had been following them all day, and all day he had been avoid snakes and large sleeping felines. Were these two really that lucky to have not encountered anything or was there more going on?

Kon also eyed them suspiciously as moved to no longer be behind them. “How do you forget about predators? I am immune to their attacks and I still remember that they’re dangerous.”

Tim watched the duo have a silent conversation before Marinette sighed, “We forgot because there is nothing in nature that would attack us.”

He and his friends waited for one of them to say more but the duo just blinked at them.

He mentally pinched his nose, this was going to be a long mission. “You aren’t going to elaborate.”

“Nope.” The duo replied in perfect tandem.

Adrien grinned mischievous, “You need to earn the favour of our gods for that.”

Marinette planted her face into her hands, “Kitty, no.”

“Kitty yes.”

“How do we earn their favour? Do they take prayers, food offerings?” Bart asked excitedly.

Kon looked sharply towards Adrien as the boy laughed, “Depends on the food.”

“Camembert.” Kon supplied.

Tim blinked. What god would want that? Then he noticed that the duo had paled considerably. So Kon had either heard or saw something that led to that answer. Interesting.

Bart, of course, noticed nothing. “Ew, that cheese stinks. Cheese whiz is far superior.”

Tim and his friends all jumped as Marinette slapped Adrien hard enough in the chest to cause the boy a coughing fit. What the hell had he missed? It looked painful yet Adrien was smiling and thanking her. He filed this away to think about later.

“So are we making camp?” Marinette smiled sweetly at him.

It was official, Tim hated this mission.

I have the story finished it is just a matter of typing it all up and convincing myself not to scrap the epilogue. There should be 7 chapters in total.

Let me know your thoughts, I am happy to answer any questions that don't give away the plot.

#maribat #the lost temple #rin writes #adventure

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straight-into-the-animus · 3 years

Text

Meet Me Halfway (Alexios x F!Reader)

For @alexandra-alle who requested for the Valentine’s Day Playlist Challenge something inspired by the song Meet Me Halfway by the Black Eyed Peas for an Alexios x Female Reader. I’m sorry it took so long but I hope it’s worth the wait!

Warnings: Mentions of blood, spoilers for halfway through the game (starts after the second italic section)

The first time you met the Eagle-Bearer, he had saved you from a wild boar.

People always saw the past clearer than they saw the present, you were aware. Looking in the past, it was very easy to see the flaws in the idea of going looking for ingredients when most people with sense were asleep. But something in your mind gave the idea that to get there earlier than everyone else, a whole night earlier, you would be able to get some of the better roots and plants and have a better store to start later in the day with preparing. It made sense at the time… until you were being charged and tried to climb up a tree in sandals that had nothing to them, closing your eyes and holding on as if it were the leg of Hermes himself.

A sickly squelch, a squeal of pain, and then silence, aside from the sounds of your heart thudding wildly in your chest. Grass swayed and crunched under boots, and a voice eventually broke through the night, deep and concerned.

“Are you hurt?”

“...No.” You got out, cracking an eye open and looking down at the side to see a man looking up at you with deep brown eyes that even you could make out in the darkness. A broken spear was in his right hand, covered up to the elbow in blood, but the other seemed to hesitantly reach out and up to help catch you. You hoped the flush was hidden and realized how little your chiton actually hid as it rode up where you hugged the tree, but accepted the help gratefully.

“Thank you… Misthios, I can assume?”

“You may call me Alexios. Or the Eagle-Bearer. Many call me either.” He smiled a bit, and you couldn’t help but somewhat return it, glancing from his face to the spear to the boar and back within a few seconds.

“Whatever I call you, you’ve saved my life, and I must thank you properly for that. Let me take you to my house so I may look at your wounds and pay you.”

A look of surprise almost seemed to flash on the misthios’ face for a second before he nodded slowly; though this time, you were able to catch the smallest smile on the corner of his mouth which stayed for longer. “If you must insist.”

---------------

It had begun that night, and it had never stopped. There was no need to, no want or desire to. You realized a long time ago, since that night, that waiting was the worst part. You were getting frighteningly used to the feeling after a few years, but every now and then it would hit you in the chest as if it were a deadly arrow straight from a soldier. But even if you somehow found yourself getting used to it, you also found your feet sometimes straying a bit far out of the safety of the walls of the city in the morning to go stand by the docks and examine the ships, to watch for sails arising on the east horizon with Apollo’s sun.

At the same time, there had been many nights like tonight where you had spent overlooking from hills and mountains thinking it would afford you a better view, taking a bit too long to gather herbs for your practices and healings as you watched the ships come and go. It was becoming too dark to see, the night gently starting to overtake your vision, and with sadness you were starting to overtake, you left back for the city.

He had warned you when he had first met you, warned you many times he was dangerous -- how could he be dangerous when he spoke so sweetly --, and liable to hurt you -- but he touched you softly so you didn’t understand that --, but he had warned you how long he would be gone for, how his visits could be so short in comparison, always on his journey that Odysseus would envy, but you had listened… reluctantly.

“I almost think you simply don’t want me coming along because I’m a woman.”

“Hmm?” Alexios cracked an eye open, finger still tracing patterns you couldn’t discern in between your shoulder blades. They left prickles in their wake, and shivers down your body in pleasure, but you willed yourself to ignore them and propped yourself on your elbow to look at him. The fact that you were both bare hardly mattered.

“I might not know how to fight, but my father taught me everything possible from the gentle Asklepios I would need. I could come along, I would be useful to you. Could likely keep you out of trouble. And stop any more of these from happening…” It was your turn to touch as you reached down to his right side, running your fingers on a still healing scar, pink and white against the olive color of his skin. He let you have your fill of it before grasping your hand gently, so gentle between rough fingers, and bringing it to his mouth to kiss it.

“And if something were to happen to you that I could not stop…” He shook his head, and you knew with a sinking heart that there would be no more discussion. All you could do was make sure he knew how much he was loved, and take every bit of love that you could from him to warm yourself before it would eventually be gone in a few days. What else could you do when you loved the Eagle-Bearer? Nothing else at all.

---------------

In hindsight, the door being open a bit more than you remember leaving it was cause for alarm, but your mind was still cloudy from the thoughts of earlier in the day and it didn’t sink in until the door properly closed behind you and you turned to make sure it was secure.

“Y/N?”

You jumped a bit, a small gasp and shout mixing in your throat as you spun around and took in Alexios in the center of the house, who looked just as startled and reflexively jumped.

“Dear Gods, Alexios, I-”

“I meant to surprise- Are you alright?”

“I think so.” You leaned against your door, closing your eyes and placing a hand over your heart to will it to stop beating. You took a breath before opening your eyes and making sure it really was it, that it wasn’t imagination working itself into a frenzy over him.

But then he moved a bit closer, and you could take in all the little parts about him; the scars on his bicep, the warm glow of his skin illuminated in the fire he must have started while you were gone, how you could make out every thread in his clothes and crack in his leather armor. And though part of you knew it was difficult, that you shouldn’t, you couldn’t help but to reach out to him at the same time he did you and hold onto him, hugging him close and burying your face into him.

“I missed you, my love.” His hand stroked through your hair, and you took in a deep breath, inhaling him and allowing yourself to be surrounded by it.

“I missed you as well.” You said quietly, and you meant it. “What brings you back? A Cultist? News about your family?”

He stiffened just a bit out of habit, apparently still holding onto that as a wound too raw to be picked on, but you held on tighter for reassurance before pulling away to look him in the eyes.

“It goes well on that front. I have… I might have found word on where my mother is. I will sail there soon. There was simply a great deal of loss in Athens recently, I…” He shook his head and your heart sank and all the words you felt he couldn’t say, or that he wouldn’t say. Something had brought him here, and though it pained you, you knew you were still here. You liked healing the body and the spirits as well. Before you could even offer anything, he spoke again. “I came back because I thought of what you said. Of our last…”

And you knew what he meant.

There had been too much anger in your last meeting, too much pain once you parted, and you never wanted that to tinge any of these little things you had. The last time you saw him had been months back. When he had entered late one night and saw the things left for you. Heard the aftermath of what was said.

“I have waited, Alexios, but it is difficult still. Two years, and people speak. Men look. Do you even have anything to say?”

“I’ve said I’m sorry, there’s not much else-”

“You can say you’ll stop this and stay, or you can take me with you.”

He had been unable to make that decision back then, and though your heart had ached for him since then, still ached for him… It was hard to be in his arms now, without anything that seemed real otherwise.

“I meant what I said, Alexios.” You started off, quiet but sure as you stayed at arm’s length. Your hands gripped his tightly, drawing strength as much as you tried to give it to him. “I love you, you know that. But I can’t sit and wait.”

“I know. I can’t make you.” Fear almost passed through your heart at the way he sounded, the quiet tone of his voice, and you felt your breath catch before you quickly cut in.

“I want to go with you, Alexios. Please. Let’s… Let’s sit. We can speak on Athens. Come.” You led him near the fire and had him sit down, sitting across from him as well, back straight. He would not leave tonight like this, broken and saddened, and you knew that. “Tell me everything.”

The plague in Athens had reached every corner of Greece, you all knew about it. But to hear the truth, about the Cult -- and you only knew the barest details from what you pried out of Alexios when he was willing to share -- and about their puppet, his sister being in the center of everything to murder Perikles, to take out Athens itself… You couldn’t help but be shaken a little bit as he told you the story. It was completely dark out as he told you the story, everything silent both outside the house and in, before he spoke again.

“Now do you see why I was always scared for you to come with me, Y/N? My heart, I cannot bear- If I lost you…”

“I won’t lie and say I’m not frightened, Alexios. But only for you, not because of them.” I’m frightened of what might happen to you. This is why I wanted to come with you. Did you ever think I might be safer with you, where you could protect me, than alone and away from you?” You crept closer to him, the floor hard under your knees, but you were spared as you came closer and on top of his lap, into warmth. “You don’t have to do it by yourself, my love. I want to be there. Let me be there.”

He studied you, brown eyes creased with new lines, but also full of a new understanding that wasn’t there in these past discussions.

“Allow me to be here tonight for now. We can talk more in the morning. But…”

“I understand.” You nodded.

And you would both talk, you knew. You would talk until you couldn’t any more. And you would hold each other until it felt as if you were in the same body, never to be parted again even when you would eventually be forced to let go. But now, to be here, and to know that soon your life could very well be full of these moments very soon… How wonderful it sounded. And how worth it it would all be, how you swore you would make it.

I hope you enjoyed! This was part of the Valentine’s Day Playlist Challenge, details/info for how to request your own can be found on the bolded link above. I have a Masterpost here and more unrelated ideas for writings and prompts here, so feel free to request! If you’d like to support me, I have a ko-fi here but absolutely no pressure on that front. Have a wonderful day!

#assassin's creed #alexios #alexios x reader #my writings #valentine's day playlist

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procrastinatorimagines · 4 years

Text

Labours of Love

Fandom: One Chicago / Chicago Med

Character/s: Connor Rhodes x Reader, Nat, Maggie

Warning/s: pregnancy, labour, childbirth

Word Count: 2,199

Request: Hi! Can I request a Connor Rhodes x Reader where he spends the night before labor with her in the hospital room? Like comforting her and telling everything will be fine? Thank you 💕

“They’re still so far apart,” you noted, taking a deep breath as your contraction finally passed. Your husband, Connor Rhodes, had taken you straight to Med as soon as they’d started a few hours ago, and after being admitted and checked out by Natalie, it was now a matter of waiting.

“I know, but your doings great,” Connor stroked your hair as you tried to relax back into the hospital bed. You hated waiting, you’d been waiting for 9 months, Connor thought that meant you should be more patient now that you were in the final stretch, but it was actually doing the opposite.

Connor squeezed your hand to reassure you, you’d discussed all the possible eventualities of pregnancy and childbirth, he was a doctor afterall, and you’d read about people being in labour for up to 18 hours, which was not something you wanted to experience.

It was already getting to around 7 pm now, you’d been there since about... 4 ish? If your contractions continued the way they were going, it was going to be a very long night.

The sound of Connor’s stomach rumbling pulled you from your thoughts. “Hey, you should grab some food,” you told him but he shook his head, determined not to leave your side.

“I’ll manage,” he gave you a little smile, remaining exactly where he was, where he’d been through your entire pregnancy, your rock in all of this. You hadn’t been married long, but you’d wanted to start a family, and despite Connor’s fears about being a good father, his eyes had lit up the second he’d seen that first scan, determined to learn from his father’s mistakes and be the best dad, and husband he could be.

You had to admit, at times his constant worry and concern drove you a little crazy, but it only made you love him more, even when he was being this stubborn. “Connor, you know we’re probably going to be here a while, now’s the best to go get some food,” you tried but in typical Connor Rhodes fashion, his main focus was you and the baby.

“I don’t want to leave you on your own,” he said, kissing your hand. His concern wasn’t entirely unjustified, you knew that, your pregnancy hadn’t been without complications and you’d been put in a slightly higher than normal risk category, but he seemed to forget that concern for your partner in marriage went both ways.

“Well I’m kind of hungry too,” you replied, not entirely lying, “so you could grab us both something?” He sighed, reluctantly nodding, and you knew you’d got him. If you had to trick him into taking care of himself, then so be it.

Connor left, promising to be back as soon as he could, looking back at you one last time as you shooed him away out the door, Nat coming back in to check on you as he did.

“I didn’t think he was capable of leaving that chair,” she laughed as she checked your pressure.

“I think he’s probably going to move into the nursery after the baby’s born-” your laughter turned to a wince as your next contraction came on, Nat counting and helping you to breath.

When it passed you noted an expression on her face. “What is it?” You asked.

“They’re still pretty far apart Y/N, it looks like you’re going to be here a while,” she said sympathetically, probably remembering her own labour.

“It’s going to be a long night isn’t it?” You sighed, stroking your belly. You’d figured it probably would be, but at least you’d have Connor by your side to keep you company. Trying to send him home to get any rest would be no use, you knew that, he probably wouldn’t even go into the doctors lounge.

“It’ll be worth it,” Nat smiled glancing at the chair where Connor had been sitting, “do you want me to grab some pillows for this one?”

“Definitely, thanks,” you replied and she headed out, leaving you with a minute to yourself before Connor returned from the cafeteria. Well, not to yourself, you hadn’t been alone for 9 months, and although you wanted the labour to be over and done with so you could meet your child, it’d be strange to not feel its constant presence anymore. You didn’t know how you felt about that, but you knew the reward of holding your baby would be worth it.

Connor came back in then, he’d grabbed himself some sandwiches and you some crackers and fruit, which you accepted gratefully, glad he was also eating. “What’d I miss?” He asked.

“Another contraction,” you told him, putting a hand on his arm to stop him replying, definitely wishing he’d been with you. “Nat was here, it was fine, we’re fine, and don’t worry, there’ll be plenty more before the night is up,” you explained just as a nurse came in with some pillows, putting them at the foot of your bed before she left.

“Are those for you, are you not comfortable enough?” Connor went to stand to grab them but you shook your head.

“Would you stop fussing for five seconds?” You smiled, “those are for you, since I know you’re going to insist on spending every second you can in that chair.” Connor laughed a little but didn’t dispute, taking one and putting it behind his back, but he left the other one where it was. You figured he’d done that in case you wanted it, but you didn’t say anything, just glad he’d at least taken one.

“You think I’m being a bit too much?” He wondered, shuffling in his chair a little and putting his chin on his hands

“I think you’re being you,” you answered softly, “and I love you for it.” He relaxed at your answer, conscious that he was being overly attentive, but you had no complaints. Connor had a lot of issues with his dad and you knew he was perhaps overcompensating to try and improve from his father’s mistakes, his heart was in the right place, where it always was. He loved you, and the baby, and there was nothing about that that you’d want to change.

“I just want to make sure everything’s okay, that you’re okay,” he clarified, but you already knew that.

“I know you do, and I know you will,” you reminded him, knowing how much of a confident face he’d put on throughout this pregnancy so that you could be the one to worry and stress if you needed to. He’d wanted to be your rock, the person that you could rely on, but that had meant he’d rarely voiced any actual concerns or fears he may have had, even though you could tell he had them.

Connor took your hand again wordlessly, as he always did to remind you he was there for you, always, as he had done when you’d found out you were pregnant, when you’d gotten married and even when you’d first met. You’d been a patient at the hospital, brought in with a mass casualty pile up, and Connor had taken your hand on that guerney when they’d wheeled you, glass from your car window embedded in your shoulder, and promised he was going to take good care of you.

And he always had.

You’d met him again when you were recovered, in line in a coffee shop, and a conversation about how you were doing had turned into grabbing a drink together. Time had gotten away from both of you and by the time you’d had to leave, he’d asked you out again to lunch, and it had been him ever since.

It was strange to think that you were back at Med, Connor by your side yet again, nearly four years between then and now. You’d had ups and downs, been by each others side through thick and thin since then, and there was no one else you’d want to be on this journey with, no one else that you’d want by your side.

He was a great husband, and he was going to make a truly amazing father.

Nat was right, you were there for a while. Connor had dozed off a couple of times, telling you repeatedly to wake him up if he started to nod off, but you never did, he needed rest and only one of you had to push through contractions keeping you awake.

You’d closed your eyes for a bit too when you could, but Connor had come off a long shift to be with you in labour, so you tried to let him sleep as much as possible, no matter how much he didn’t want you to.

It was next to 15 hours before your contractions got close enough that Nat was in nearly constantly, Connor’s fingers entwined in yours as you squeezed his hand through your contractions, not many more now before you’d have to push. You were exhausted already, but Connor was encouraging you through it, whispering words of comfort and reassurance as Nat prepared for delivery.

“You got this baby, you got this,” he whispered as Maggie came in too, signalling to you that the moment was really here at last. They were about to tell you to push.

Your nerves were rising now, and you didn’t think you could manage to hold it together without Connor by your side, but he was right there, telling you that everything was going to be okay. And you believed him, giving you the strength you needed when Nat got you to position your legs, noting that you were in fact, now fully dilated.

“It’s time to push Y/N,” Nat told you, hands on your knees slightly as you took a shaky breath.

“Already?” You managed to get out with a pained laugh, “that was pretty quick.” Connor shook his head in disbelief, amazed that you could be laughing right now as you loudly gasped in pain.

“You can do this,” he repeated, not caring that you were squeezing his hand like a vice as Nat readied herself for you to push.

“Yeah, yeah I can,” you breathed, starting to push, feeling weaker than you’d expected from your long labour as you cried out, collapsing back when you felt like you couldn’t push anymore.

“Come on Y/N, you’ve got to give me more than that, you need to keep pushing,” Nat instructed as you breathed heavily, feeling sweat drip down the sides of your forehead.

“Push, come on you’re almost there,” Connor whispered, willing you to keep going. This was about to hurt, you knew that, but it would be worth it.

Nat gestured with her head for Connor to come over, and he looked to you questioningly. You nodded, unable to talk now as Maggie took his place by your side and Connor stood next to Nat, awe on his face as he looked at your baby’s head.

With one last breath and look to Connor, who was staring at you with so much love and support, you forced yourself to push again, as hard as you could, the thought of your baby, your family, driving you to keep going even though your whole body was screaming at you.

“That’s it, that’s it,” Connor muttered to you, watching as Nat smiled, feeling something change as you pushed. With a sigh of utter relief you collapsed backwards, your baby’s cries the best thing you thought you’d ever heard.

“You did it,” Maggie told you and you let out a shaky breath, lifting your heavy head up to look at Connor, eyes wet as he beheld the child in his hands.

“It’s a boy,” he muttered and you grinned, Nat offering him the scissors to cut the cord. He did so professionally, and rather reluctantly allowed Nat to clean him, still staring at his hands where the baby had just been.

“We have a son,” you said with joy, getting your breath back just enough to talk. Connor let out a little amazed laugh, watching as Nat brought him back in a towel, bringing him over to you as Maggie stepped away, patting you on the shoulder and congratulating you as Connor took his place by your side again.

“Congratulations, you have a healthy baby boy,” Nat passed him to you carefully as Connor beamed, looking at his wife and son like you were the only people in the world that mattered.

“Hi,” you said softly, making sure to watch his head as you took him in your arms, “I’m your mom.” Connor ran his little finger lightly over his small cheek, kissing you on the head after he did.

“He’s incredible, you’re incredible,” he told you, stroking your arm as you stared at your son. “I love you.” He said and you pulled your eyes away from your son to look at him.

“I love you too,” you replied, unable to believe how lucky you were. You had a beautiful baby boy and an incredible husband, and whatever came next, Connor would be right there beside you, and somehow you knew that everything was going to be okay.

#connor rhodes #chicago med #one chicago #connor rhodes imagine #chicago med imagine #connor rhodes x reader #connor rhodes imagines #chicago med imagines #connor rhodes one shot #chicago med one shot #one chicago imagine #one chicago imagines #one chicago one shot #one shot

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sideblogformindtrash · 3 years

Note

I want Blue and BB crossover. Maybe Farmans father came to visit and Farlan wanted to hide BB and Pastel somewhere and he asked Oferu for help? Just saying, you don't have to take my suggestion

CW: low self-esteem; discussing past abuse; orfeu being a disaster; biting; pet whump; dehumanization; scars;

…He is just chilling when he gets a message from Farlan. He doesn’t think much of it, lazily reaching out of his blankets to read it.

‘I’ll be dropping BB and Pastel off on your house in 30 minutes. Dad visiting me. Explain better later’

…His heart skip a beat.

‘WHAT? I never said you could. Specially not like this out of nowhere’

‘You own me a favor for helping with Blue that time’

…Favors for favors, right? He jumps out of the bed, looking to the sides as if anything there could help him deal with the situation. Hell. He needs to get dressed, warn Blue and Haru and brace himself for the oncoming chaos.

He picks the phone again.

‘Drop them off in the road, I’ll meet you there. Don’t come near the house. I don’t want you near Haru’

‘Ik’

----------------------------------------

It takes a lot of reassurance, but BB and Pastel finally accept that they are not ‘being abandoned’, especially after Farlan left them in such a hurry. But they eventually accept it, and reluctantly follow him to his home, BB holding Pastel by the hand as he tries to stay the further away from Orfeu he can manage.

Of course, neither Blue nor Haru are exactly happy when he lets them both inside his home. Specially not Blue, his eyes immediately locking with BB’s.

“BLUE!” They scream, nearly jumping on Blue “It’s you! It’s you! It’s you!”

“P-p-please d-d-don’t!” He cowers a little, back against the wall. BB ignored the warning… And Blue bites them.

“Blue! Don’t!” Orfeu says, trying to stay calm but already losing control over the situation. Pastel takes the opportunity to hide under the table, while Haru quietly watched from the corner.

BB doesn’t react how he would expect, either. They don’t cry or scream or even seem bothered. They smile.

“Nice! BB’s turn now!” and they try to bite Blue back. He pulls away, and tried to escape to a different room, as BB follows him. He goes after them both, trying to prevent the biting spree.

----

Haru quietly slides to his knees, near the one that should be Pastel, under the kitchen table. He is curled against the legs of a chair, trembling slightly. Haru wishes he could offer some comfort, speak to him but… It’s difficult. He tries to wave hello.

“Hmm, Hi” The other pet curls up more, defensively “You must be Haru, right?”

Haru nods, wondering if Master told them about him. He tries to ask.

“I… I don’t understand…”

…He points to the notebook then, but Pastel shakes his head again.

“No… Can’t read. BB can. Sorry” They just sit next to each other for a while, hearing noises and footsteps from upstairs, where chaos ensues. “Hm, is… Is your Master… Nice? He scares me so much”

Haru nods, yes. Then points at Pastel, hoping he understands.

“Yeah. He is” Pastel stares at him for a moment “Hm… Is… he was… Was your Master before, wasn’t he? Farlan?”

….He nods, biting the inside of his cheeks. Farlan. Young Master. Young Master who now had other pets who he loved more than he ever loved Haru. Pets that were cared for and loved and cherished because they were good, but Haru wasn’t. Haru was worthless and dumb and stupid. Not worthy of his love.

He tried. He had really tried so hard but he wasn’t enough. Orfeu said it wasn’t his fault, but it had to be, if he was ‘nice’ to these to these other pets…

“Was he… He hurt you, didn’t he?”

And Haru isn’t sure how to express this. So he pulls his sleeve up, letting Pastel see his arms. His eyes widen, and he gasps.

“Are those from him?”

Haru nods again, and Pastel seems to shiver, covering his mouth for a second, as Haru hides his scars again. Ugly.

“BB says… Says he has a diary. He writes about you sometimes. That he hurt you a lot and he doesn’t want to do that again” Pastel looks at him for a moment “…He says he regrets it”

…Haru shrugs. Why should he regret it? Pastel seems to be thinking. Possibly if they will end up like Haru, too. He wished he could tell Pastel that no, probably not. Farlan is a good Master. He was just a bad, bad pet, one that wasn’t worthy of his love.

And that he, somehow ‘regretted’ it now.

What a fucking joke.

---

…Orfeu sighs upstairs, arms open to keep the two far apart, Blue biting one of his arms, BB biting the other.

…BB lets go first.

“See? P-please Blue! Let, let BB learn! BB j-just wants to, to be like you…” their eyes gleam, on the edge of tears, but they speak with more respect than they do to Farlan, even.

“It, it likes t-t-that you are determined b-but you, you c-can’t be Blue! Being B-blue sucks!” Blue pouts and steps back “C-c-can’t copy Blue. B-b-but you can be B-blue’s evil disciple. It will guide you on the way o-of mis-mischief”

“Or you two could try and be friends…” Orfeu tries.

“Evil disciple! Evil disciple! Evil disciple!” BB claps. He sighs.

“…Why don’t you show BB some of your games, Blue?”

Blue squints.

“Ssssuuuuureeeeee I’l show BB… How to ‘plaaay ‘games’’, like a goooooood law abiding cittizzzeeen”

“You know what, whatever works for the two of you” He sighs, crossing his arm and stepping aside so they can approach. BB immediately hugs Blue. He makes an effort not to pull away. As much as he is happy they are at least trying to get along, he feels like he will regret this soon enough.

---

They go back downstairs with them so they can play. Then he goes to check on Haru and Pastel, as they’ve been awfully quiet.

He nearly has a heart attack when he can’t find them, until he spots them both outside, near the fence, seeming to struggle to communicate, but still, trying, it seems.

He decides to stay in there, so he can both keep an eye on the two outside and be close to the two on the living room, in case they go back to fighting. He puts up a kettle so he can make them all some tea, quietly watching the water boil.

Soon, he hears some muffled sounds from the living room, which he hopes is laughter. Pastel and Haru seems to be doing fine too, as Haru shows him their “Super secret bug collection that Master is totally not aware of”.

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