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norrizzandpia · 8 months

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Spa (LN4)

Summary: When a reality check causes Y/n to worry about him coming home to her every day for the rest of their lives.

Warnings: puking, mentions of panic attacks, mentions of death

The day had begun like any other. The couple woke up together in the hotel room paid for by McLaren, lugging themselves downstairs into the conference room that held a buffet just for the crew and drivers, before trudging back upstairs to change and get ready for the qualifying session. Neither one of them were awake enough to carry out a lengthy conversation with the other like they usually would, opting for comforting silence instead. They had gotten to the track easily, as well. Traffic being light and fans not crowding them with how early they had arrived.

Everything had been perfect.

Even when he began his laps, it looked like he was going to get pole position. There had been excitement and hollering as he rounded each corner and completed another lap. Completely contradictory to the silence that overtook the room when his car slammed into the wall and spun out.

She had been watching intently before it happened. The headphones placed on her as she gripped Cisca’s hand, both women being ecstatic at the possibility of their boy getting to start first at tomorrow’s race. Huge smiles on their faces and eyes plastered to the screen, they yelped out when engineers turned around to shoot them hopeful smiles at his performance.

“He’s doing so well!” Y/n exclaimed as Adam sidled up to his wife’s side.

Nodding and smiling, he looked at his son’s girlfriend, “Yeah! They’re saying he’s set to gain pole!”

At that, she had made a hop in the air and returned her eyes to his fast moving car. All three of them stood together at the next corner. The split second veering turned into their worst nightmares. One minute she was watching the love of her life succeed in completing another corner while the next his helmet was boggling side to side from the force of the accident. Her smile disappeared slowly, the beeping and yells around her not fully translating in her head for a few moments.

When she turned to his parents, however, it fully hit her. Cisca’s teary eyes and Adam’s shaking hand did her in.

“Was that him?” It was a stupid question to ask. For one, they had been watching him for ages, the camera never changing, and for two, the bright papaya colored car gleamed a “4” right on the front, staring her back almost as if to taunt her.

Nonetheless, she held onto hope someone would tell her it wasn’t her beloved partner in crime. Although, as somber as it was, that moment never came. Instead, she heard Andrea’s persistent voice off to the side, distant but still there.

“Lando, are you okay?” Silence.

“Lando, can you hear me?” Again, silence.

With the sound of Andrea’s pleading and the image of Lando’s smoking car, she ripped the headset off and stormed out of the room. The tears were running hot down her face and her whole body shook as she flung herself down different hallways in search of the bathroom. Images of their times together flashed in her mind, threatening the end of them. Pictures of him laughing at her jokes, the time they went out at 2 AM to get ice cream, his panic attacks, their fights, meeting his parents, her moving in with him. Everything mocked her now, as if dangling him right in front of her face like he wasn’t being lost to her at that very moment.

Her hand held her mouth closed as she spotted the bathroom’s sign. Once she got through, her body fell to the floor in a hunch, aggressively letting go of everything she had consumed with him that morning.

Her body cringed and cried as she suffered mentally and physically. Somewhere along the way, gentle hands appeared behind her to gather her hair and rub her back.

“It’s okay. He’s going to be okay, honey.” Cisca’s voice soothed as she coaxed the girl out of her turmoil.

Y/n would’ve asked questions about his condition and the updates she had missed, but her body wouldn’t allow her a moment to breathe. It continued to lurch her forward with the force of her dry-heaving and vomiting even after everything she had ever put into her body was forced up. If she was in her right mind, Y/n would’ve realized that the violent nature of her body’s reaction was in combination with the panic attack which had started the moment he crashed. Though, she wasn’t in her right mind, so she was left to take all the emotions at once and for all they were.

It had to have been an hour that Cisca and her sat like that, Y/n dry heaving before leaning over to puke again. The tears never ceased and she began to doubt her mental strength when it came to her boyfriend’s job and the risks he took every day.

“I’m scared.” She finally got out as the two women leaned against the stall’s walls.

“Me too, but he’s okay. After you left, he responded on the radio, "Only has a few bruises and scrapes.” Cisca tried to reassure.

However, Y/n shook her head, “Well, that’s good to hear, but my thing is,” She paused as she tried to find the right words, “How do you do this every weekend? Allow him to go out there and risk his life while you just have to stay put and be helpless.”

Cisca’s mouth dropped open in realization as she nodded, “It’s a fear we all have, so, I guess, that’s where I’ll start with it. You’re not alone. But, you do have to realize that he’s a trained professional who knows what he’s doing. You need to trust that Lando is capable of preventing these things on his own.”

“But, he didn’t today? How do we know there won’t be a next time and that next time won’t end up with just a few bruises and scrapes?” Y/n persisted.

His mother’s hand came to rest on her knee, “We don’t. I’m sorry, Y/n. I really wish I could tell you something better, something that will guarantee his safety, but I can’t. I know exactly how you’re feeling and I know that when I was going through it, I just wanted people to tell me he would be okay, but that’s just not the truth and to tell you that would be unfair.”

Y/n’s silence as she took in her words allowed for the door’s interruption. It squeaked and whined as it opened, revealing a bandaged Lando on the other side.

“I came looking for Y/n after Dad told me she rushed off. I got worried.” He said as he made his way further into the room, coming to stand in front of the open stall and smile down at some of his favorite women.

Cisca snorted as she got up to hug her son, “Worried? We’re the ones that should be worried.” As she pulled back from their embrace, she squished his cheeks and whispered, “Glad you’re okay.”

He smiled down at his Mom, the woman who had done so much for him, and said, “Can’t get rid of me that easily!”

Her short cackle was the last thing the couple heard as she shut the door, leaving them completely alone. Lando’s eyes trailed back down to his girl, on the floor and weak after her prior activities.

“You okay?” He whispered as he got down to sit beside her, his hand coming to rest on her thigh.

She nodded, “Yeah, just got sick a little. How are you though?”

He shook his head, “I’m fine. No need to worry about me. Seriously, though, Y/n, I heard the vomiting was bad and-”

“Lando, of course, we need to worry about you. You almost died.” She snapped, silencing his growing ramble.

He stared at her for a moment, “No, I didn’t. Yeah, I was in jeopardy of breaking a few bones and getting a concussion, but not death.” The tears in her eyes returning made him wrap her in his arms, “Baby, I’m okay. I’m always going to be okay. I’ll always come back to you.”

She nodded, wiping at her tears as she hid herself in his chest, “I know, but what if you don’t? What if you can’t avoid it and I lose you?”

Her hushed pleas for his comfort broke his heart as he cradled her head, “That’s not going to happen. Y/n, look at me,” He guided her face to look up, “you are too important to me to risk not being able to spend the rest of my life with. My job puts me at a higher risk of danger, yes, but it is completely in my control if I end up dead and that won’t ever happen. I love you too much to miss out on marrying you and growing old with you.”

Her small hands gripped at his waist as they leaned further into each other’s warm touch on the dirty bathroom floor. Y/n was quick to nod, not wanting to think about it anymore, as Lando laid his head down on top of hers.

His comforting embrace told her one thing, however.

Whatever happened, she would always be grateful for the times she got to love him.

Note: bro tell me why i dont know if i like this or not… but im posting it anyway bc sitting with Lando on the floor of a bathroom seemed too good to withhold

#f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #mclaren #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fluff #lando norris imagines #lando norris edit #lando norris fanfiction #lando norris smut #lando norris #lando norris x you

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justporo · 4 months

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Ohhhh prompt 35 looks so sweet🥺

Did I make this one a lil angsty? Maybe. But it will be okay, promise! Prompt description: gentle stroking of cheeks while kissing Pairing: Astarion/GN!Tav (You) | Wordcount: 600 | Warnings: angst, light descriptions of violence/death

MASTERLIST | AO3 | KISS PROMPTS “Hush, my love, I’m here! I’m good!”

You heard the words, but they barely registered with you. Your eyes were wide open and yet unseeing. Even the tears that flowed freely from their corners that made the world around you completely blurry didn’t even bother you in the moment. Heavy breaths lifted your chest again and again in an agonizing rhythm that only seemed to amplify still.

The scene was replaying once more in front of your mental eye, blocking out everything else: Astarion being dealt the final blow, his pained, strained scream and the huge splatter of blood. And then: his body toppling over, lifeless now. In that scene you screamed until it felt like your lungs are burning up.

And then the scene started anew.

“Darling, it was just a nightmare, just a dream, my sweet – look at me! Please!”, Astarion pleaded with you. He was kneeling in front of you, in his tent – where you had both drifted off to your dreams. His hands were holding onto your shoulders, now shaking you softly in another attempt to grab your attention.

But it was of no use, the hook that the repeating nightmares had sunk into your chest sat way to deep now to be easily taken out.

You started shaking as the gruesome images wouldn’t let you go.

Astarion pressed his forehead against yours while his hands wandered up gently, trying to hold up your face so you would hopefully look into his worried but very much lively crimson eyes.

“Love, you’re not getting rid of me that easily. Weeds do not die quickly,” he whispered to you ever so softly. And somehow his stupid words and the way his hands were now fully cupping your face rattled you enough to start pull you out of your shock state.

But you were still shaken deeply to your core, trembling like a leave, easily ripped away by the wind again.

So the vampire let his thumbs gently stroke over your face while he slowly leaned in to press his lips to your shivering ones. He felt the soft rise of your cheekbones under the pads of his thumbs and the wetness of salty tears that coated them. Meanwhile, his other fingertips softly floated over the heated skin of your neck, immediately catching the rhythm of your thundering heartbeat. His lips touched yours softly, first lightly squeezing your top and then your bottom lip with his before he gently parted your lips with his own to deepen the kiss.

That’s when you felt yourself rise slowly out of your traumatic stupor. You answered him by sighing into his open lips while his thumbs wandered over your cheeks again picking up a calming rhythm. Your hands wandered to his chest and softly curled in his shirt: trying to confirm that he was indeed there with you and wanting to deepen the kiss just a little more.

You stayed like this for a few moments longer until Astarion withdrew a little, causing you to immediately sigh with yearning. But you saw him now and were assured that he was fine. The teasing sparkle in his eyes and his signature smirk did the rest to convince you of his well-being. His hands remained soothingly on your face.

“There you are again. I’m glad my masterful seduction skills saved you from your pit of despair, my love”, he whispered and leaned his forehead against yours again with a smile.

You softly frowned at him and one of your hands at his chest boxed him lightly. The vampire just laughed. And then he kissed you again – just double-checking of course.

Tag list: @spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess @darlingxdragon @hereliesblackdragon @ayselluna

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #fanfiction #astarion x tav #bg3 spoilers #baldur's gate iii #baldurs gate #astarion x mc #astarion x oc #astarion x you #astarion x reader #bg3

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ratatouillewastakendammit · 1 year

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Trending Topics

Pairing: Keigo Takami x reader

Summary: when you started writing online erotica about your boss, you had been under the strict impression that he would never, ever find out about it.

Warning: Smut, vaginal fingering, degradation, praise, slight public-sex, Language, Hawks deserves his own warning

Word Count: 2.3k

Part 2

The phone rang.

For a secretary, one may have thought this to be a completely normal occurrence, just as you did now. It never would have occurred to you that this particular phone call would be anything but.

So when you picked it up, you answered in your usual, well-mannered tone, completely devoid of any sort of concern. "If this is about the Hero Billboard Chart event then your seat has been reserved and I've requested that it be close to Endeavor."

The laugh of your boss echoed down the line. "Thanks, lovebird, but that's actually not what I'm calling about." He paused, leaving the crackle of empty static in your ear. "Would you mind coming up to my office for a sec?"

"Oh, uh, yes I'll be there right away."

Usually, you were quite good at your job.

You were responsible and efficient, taking on tasks diligently without fault. There was only one unplanned vacation day on your record, taken only as a result of some unforeseen food sickness that left you slumped on your bathroom floor for most of the afternoon.

Still, after you had been able to pry your body away from the safety of your toilet, you had gone back to bed, opened your computer, and reorganized some meetings so your boss had the maximum amount of free time.

He was probably why you enjoyed your job so much, or at least was a big part of it.

Hawks, true to his image, was very laid back and lenient. He met your hard work and determination with praise, a huge comparison to some of the other famous names you had worked under.

This worked as continual motivation to please him, hoping to make his life easier in return for his kindness. Thankfully, he was forgiving, brushing past the meaningless mistakes that many egotistic administrators would've relished in punishing.

So when he had called you into his office without telling you why, the only thing running through your buzzing mind was that you had something very, very wrong.

Mentally replaying through all your actions from the past week, you searched for anything that might've warranted a reprimand and came up completely blank.

You stepped into the elevator, grazing your ID through the scanner device and selecting your preferred floor.

Nervous energy was beginning to simmer in your stomach, growing more intense with every level you passed on the way to the top.

With a ding, you were released into the corridor leading to the same room you visited every morning. Those sessions were usually on your own accord, nothing but a quick catch-up on whatever important party or conference Hawks was supposed to attend.

Of course, he would ask you up here if there was something specific that he needed accomplished at that very moment, but you couldn't ignore the small twitch of intuition that this was different somehow.

Walking down the hall, you acknowledged the fact that you were probably just being nervous over nothing, simply anxious from the negative outcomes that were buzzing around your mind.

After taking a deep breath, you gently knocked on the faded glass of your boss' office. A distracted mumble of confirmation could be heard through the walls and you took it as a pass to enter.

You walked in, eyes immediately flashing to the man in front of you for any signs of external indignation.

He was staring fixedly on his phone, attentively scrolling through an unseen article with his legs propped on the surface of his desk.

All in all, he seemed relatively normal, giving you the minuscule confidence to make yourself known. "You needed something?"

At the sound of your voice, Hawks looked up, allowing a recognizably easygoing smile to spread across his features as he slid his boots off the table. "Yeah, thanks for coming. Would you mind taking a seat?"

You nodded, but the ball of anxiety in your stomach exploded at his words. Nothing good had ever come after that statement.

The next inquiry did nothing to help either. "So, do you know why you're here?"

Beginning to pick at the skin in between your fingernails, you shook your head. "No, not really. Did I do something wrong? An error in one of my reports or something like that?"

"Not at all! Your work here is great." He complimented, waving off your concerns. "However, I do have to bring up a tiny problem regarding your social media."

"My social media?" Hawks nodded at the question. "I'm not really on it. I mean, I have some of the popular apps and stuff, but I don't post anything."

He hummed, tilting his head in feigned confusion. "Not even online erotica about me?"

The blood drained from your face.

You watched in utter horror as he swiveled his phone around, revealing the welcome screen of your very own Tumblr profile.

Words were failing you. You doubted that your voice would work at all if you even tried, but Hawks seemed more than willing to break the silence.

"This one's my favorite. I mean, seventeen thousand likes?" He scrolled to your most recent post and let out a low whistle. "Pun intended, I'm more of a Twitter guy myself, but I'm pretty sure that's impressive, yeah?"

The muscle in your chest was beginning to thump harder and harder. With his acute sense of hearing, you were almost sure he could hear its beat amidst the quiet. "I... I don't-"

"And the tags are even better!" Hawks turned the screen around in his direction once more. "I quote, now tell me if I get anything wrong, hashtag 'I want this man to rail me until I can't walk.'"

In your defense, you hadn't written about Hawks since he had hired you.

The first post had been a sleep-deprived, most likely horny result of your crush on the winged hero. You hadn't even thought it was all that good.

But the internet disagreed.

They came flocking to your sweet words like bees, pollinating your page with likes, reposts, and motivating comments. Their approval worked as motivation, pressure to keep feeding the masses in unneeded media.

When you had been offered the secretarial position here, you had obviously stopped, but you just couldn't find it in yourself to delete the account.

Hours of hard work spent writing and scouting Google for synonyms was just too hard to let go of. Not to mention the readers who genuinely enjoyed your content would have it deleted without a proper explanation.

You had kept it up, leaving your account to slowly become untouched, even if your attraction to the pro increased steadily during the span of these past few months.

Besides, there was no way anyone could connect it to you, right?

Wrong, apperently.

So fucking wrong.

"I've gotta say, you're quite the little writer. I would've said your talents lay in haggling me out of meetings, but this is some good stuff."

Your eyes shot up at his words in shocked dismay. "You read them?"

Golden irises darkened, fixed in your direction in a way that made you squirm. "All of them."

Hot tears began to brim at the corner of your eyes. You willfully pushed them back, hoping to retain what minuscule specs of self respect you had left.

Pushing back the chair, you stood up, offering him a polite bow in refusal to meet his gaze. "I guess I'll go collect my things. Thank you for the opportunity."

"What?"

The confusion in his tone made you look up in surprise. "Aren't I being fired?"

He furrowed his brows, offering you an unreadable expression. "Fire you?"

You nodded at his question, trying to ignore the glimmer of hope creeping into your train of thought. "Well, um, I just thought that-"

"Sit down."

The authority behind his voice had you immediately in compliance. You watched him slowly stand up and make his way over to you, the already established power dynamic reinstated physically.

He placed his hands on the arms of your chair, effectively caging your body between them. "Writing porn online about your boss? A termination would probably be letting you off easy."

Your heart dropped.

Did I commit a felony?

There's no way, right?

There can't be.

I mean, yeah sure, the commission's super uptight about his image, but people write shit online about the heroes all the time, so it can't be that bad.

I hope...

"Did you mean it?"

You glanced up in confusion. "Mean what?"

Cocking an eyebrow, he offered you a smirk that reeked of self-satisfaction. "Did you really spend all that time daydreaming about how good my cock would feel inside you?"

Your mind went blank at his words. There was nothing you could focus on besides the warmth his voice was sparking in your core.

This couldn't be happening. You had to be drunk or asleep or something.

He raised a hand to softly cup your jaw, eyes boring into yours in anticipation. "Listen, sweetheart, you have to let me know this is okay first or I'm gonna stop."

Gaze trailing downward, you line of sight shot

"Please don't." You breathed. He quickly backed away, but you made a grab for his hands in realization. "Fuck, I-I mean don't stop, please don't stop. You can... I want you to keep going, please."

Hawks scanned your expression for any sort of hesitation, finding nothing but desire hidden behind a thick veil of shame and embarrassment.

An impish grin materialized across his face and Hawks resumed his previous position, confining you into the chair with muscled biceps. You gasped when he lifted his right leg, pushing it in between your thighs.

Dexterous fingers began to slowly undo the buttons of your blouse. "I'll admit, you're pretty good at writing about me, but I can promise that the real thing is a lot better."

Intimidating could be a word to describe him, sure, but never like this.

After pulling open your shirt, Hawks tugged down the strap of your bra. The cold air hit your chest and you stiffened in shyness under the heat of his stare.

He nudged your averted gaze upward with the tip of his finger, allowing you to see the affection and lust swimming in his expression. Golden eyes met your own before his mouth crashed against yours.

The kiss trailed downward as he began to pepper your neck and exposed collarbone with his lips, sucking on the skin as his hands moved up to rub your breasts.

You began to unconsciously roll your hips against his thigh, squirming in desperation. He immediately took notice, giving your nipple a soft pinch.

A low whine fell from your throat when he removed his leg from in between yours.

"So needy." Hawks clicked his tongue, voice laced with imitated disapproval.

You watched his hand move to slip underneath your skirt, hooking a finger into the fabric of your underwear and pulling it to the side. A sharp exhale fell past your lips as his breath hit your core.

He ran a finger through your slit, eyes wide in satisfaction at the wetness that followed.

"Always getting here on time, always so polite. What a good girl." He cackled, slowly inserting a finger into you and pumping it experimentally. "Who knew you were such a slut?"

His thumb found your clit, rubbing the bud and drawing a soft moan from your lips. "It doesn't matter very much to me though, as long as you're mine."

The movement of hands came to a slow as he reached behind himself to grab something. "In fact, why don't you show me? Since you seemed so keen on it before."

"What?" You breathed, aching for the pleasure he had just taken away.

"I wanna hear how much of a slut you are for me." He held out his phone, allowing you to see the faintly lit screen of your writing profile. "I want to hear every sentence your perverted little mind has conjured up about me. You stop talking and I stop fucking you with my fingers, understood?"

Allowing him to press the device into your hands, you nodding, silently begging for him to continue.

You started to speak, voice wobbling with every syllable. His movement hung off every one of them, motions led by the fantasy you narrated.

"His touch was like fireworks against her skin, still cold from the evening air."

Every word added to your personal humiliation, but it was an evil you would gladly endure if that meant feeling like this.

"He added another finger." He did as you said, causing you to gasp at the added pressure. "Fuck, Hawks!"

"Keigo, sweetheart."

"Kei-"

With a curl of his fingers, the last syllable of his name fizzled away into low groan. "Almost there, princess, you've got it."

He was right.

This was so much better than anything you could've ever come up with.

The words that fell from your mouth soon turned to a puddle of moans. They blurred together on the screen as bliss flooded your mind, replacing any coherent thought with pure need.

Pleasure coursed through your limbs with every thrust of his fingers, edging you closer and closer to the brim of ecstasy. A few more moments and you pushed past it.

The phone fell from your shaking hands as you unraveled in his.

Hawks tenderly soothed you down from your high, softly continuing to caress your overstimulated clit before removing his hand from under your skirt.

"Request the day off tomorrow, yeah?" He pressed a gentle kiss against your lips, sending you a devilish grin. "I'm taking you up on that hashtag once we get off and you're definitely gonna need it."

#I want this man to rail me until I can't walk #hawks x reader #hawks x you #mha hawks #bnha hawks #keigo takami #keigo x reader #keigo x you #bhna smut #mha smut #hawks bnha #bhna imagine #mha

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star-going-supernova · 6 months

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SB prompt for ya since it’s almost Halloween!

Gregory for Halloween goes as Freddy and Freddy absolutely goes loses it. I’m just imagining Gregory in the full outfit with shoulder pads, a cute little headband with ears, and face makeup quoting Freddy saying “way to go superstar!” with a huge grin and Freddy just melts.

The mental image of Freddy walking beside a small mini him around the plex is so cute. You can’t tell me Freddy wouldn’t scoop him up and get as many pictures of the two of them as possible.

Also the others would be good natured and jokingly talk about how it’s favoritism and Gregory would just go “well he is my favorite” and cause Freddy’s system to crash.

Here’s tumblr generated prompt number 13! I’m so glad this one got picked, so I can at least say I wrote a belated Halloween ficlet! This is pure fluff!

Double Trouble

“Hold still!” Cassie complained, not for the first time. Gregory, prone to wiggling, gripped the chair tightly to keep from fidgeting too much. He didn’t actually want to cause problems, for once.

He desperately wanted to ask if she was done yet, or at least close, but talking would mean moving, and he really was trying to be on his best behavior. He’d asked for this, after all.

After another few agonizingly long minutes, Cassie leaned back with a pleased smile. “Done! And looking fabulous, if I do say so myself.”

Gregory leapt from his chair and skidded to look in the mirror. “Cassie!” he cried, beaming. “It looks amazing!” He turned his face this way and that, admiring her work. “I’d ask if you want any help with yours, but…”

She snickered, tucking herself close to a smaller mirror on her desk to start on her own makeup for her Halloween costume. “You’d mean well,” she allowed, “but I’ll pass, thanks.”

As she preformed some witchcraft to keep her lines straight and even and symmetrical, Gregory finished getting dressed. He was overly careful not to smudge the Freddy makeup—the blue was a perfect match, honestly, he didn’t know how Cassie did it—thankful that he at least had already put on his shirt. He snapped on the bracelets and slid on the headband with the fuzzy ears and little black top hat hot-glued at a subtle angle. The bowtie was carefully safety-pinned to his shirt, nice and straight.

The shoulder pads—and Cassie had agreed with him on this—were actually the hardest part of their costumes. They were a little too big and heavy to be clipped, pinned, or glued to their shirt shoulders without them slipping or tugging on the fabric in a way that just didn’t look good.

Cassie’s dad had solved their problem: backpacks. The shoulder straps were much sturdier and could easily support the foam shoulder pads’ weight. Plus, it made it super easy to take them off without damaging the rest of their costumes.

Their backpacks were waiting by the front door with their boots. Gregory’s were snow boots covered with foam to mimic Freddy’s feet and the red part of his legs. Cassie’s were just the same, only with Roxy’s purple and black animal print.

Another bit of practicality, curtesy of Cassie’s dad, who was pretty good at arts and crafts. Gregory’s costume wouldn’t look half as awesome without his help.

Cassie finished her own makeup (much faster than she’d done Gregory’s, and that wasn’t only because he needed more) and hopped up to finish putting on her own costume. Arm bands, wolf ears—complete with earrings, just like Gregory’s—and fuzzy wolf tail. She blew her green lock of hair out of her eyes.

“That’s gonna annoy you all night,” Gregory half teased, half warned her.

She conceded with a disgruntled huff and went to stuff a few spare bobby-pins in her pocket. Pushing him over to the tall mirror hanging on the back of her bedroom door, Cassie squished them together so both their reflections fit. “How do we look?”

“Awesome. Duh.”

“Are we missing anything?”

They each critically examined each other’s costume. Luckily, they weren’t too complicated.

“Yours looks good to me,” he said.

“Yours too.” She grinned widely. “They’re gonna freak.”

Gregory snickered. “This’ll knock ’em both out, for sure.”

“Perfect,” Cassie said, eyes glinting mischievously. And people thought Gregory was the only troublemaker between them.

Cassie’s dad took a few pictures once they finished getting dressed up before driving them over to the pizzaplex. The Halloween party was in full swing by the time they got there, and thanks to their special VIP wristbands, they got to skip past all the lines. And bless Mr. King for never asking any questions about how or where they got the wristbands. He just followed along behind them with his own average VIP pass until he split off from them with a reminder to be good, stay together, and text him if they needed anything.

Unleashed, Gregory and Cassie meandered through the festivities for a while, accepting donuts and cider from one of the many treat tables set up in the building. There were some games scattered around, a few face-painting booths, and reminders for the evening’s activities plastered on every other corner. Almost everyone was in costume, even the employees and some of the STAFF bots roaming around.

“Oooh,” Cassie said, tugging at Gregory’s arm. “They turned the Fazer Blast arena into a haunted house!” She gave him a pleading look, cheering when he obligingly set off in that direction.

• • •

The annual Halloween party was, at the very least, a pleasant change of pace. It was one of the busiest nights of the year, but Freddy could not bring himself to mind how exhausting it was, not when all the children were in such high spirits.

The costumes were perhaps his favorite part, though the pizzaplex’s decorations were a close second. They were all so creative and fun to look at. There were costume contests scattered throughout the event, separated by age groups or themes or group costumes. The animatronics were not judges of the contests—they did not have opinions as robots, obviously—but they were expected to attend each one and give out the prizes once the judges had deliberated.

There was even a contest specifically for all the children who came dressed up as members of the band (with a few of Sun or Moon, or even more rarely, the DJ). One particularly memorable past winner had been accompanied by a service dog wearing a simple homemade wet floor sign bot costume.

Freddy became increasingly distracted as the night carried on. Gregory had promised to visit during the party, but there had been no sign of the boy yet. It was a large building, and there were many activities to participate in, and so it was most likely that Gregory was having fun elsewhere—he was logically aware of that, of course.

But that wasn’t helping his patience.

Gregory had mused about what he wanted to do for a costume since before October had even begun. Freddy had tried to veto all the gory suggestions, though he was still not sure if Gregory had meant them sincerely or was simply messing with him. Last he had heard, Gregory was mostly settled on a character from his favorite video game.

This was necessary information to better explain the way he short-circuited from surprise when he saw Gregory cross the stage during a costume contest. Specifically the one for kids dressed as them.

A warning flashed on his HUD that he was in danger of overheating, though he hardly noticed. His friends were all snickering around him, less subtle than normal, as they were safely at the back of the room.

Gregory did a jaunty spin to show off his Freddy costume—more than one system in Freddy’s body had to reboot, stalling out from pleased shock.

Roxy elbowed him in the side, grinning, some pointed remark surely on the tip of her tongue, when her jaw dropped open as if the hinge had suddenly broken.

On stage, Cassie, in a similarly styled Roxy costume, joined Gregory. The announcer was saying something about them being a pair, and both of them were smiling widely as Gregory twirled Cassie under his arm.

Roxy’s body visibly locked up, and her the lights of her eyes flickered wildly. Beneath his frantically whirring fans, Freddy felt a bit appreciative of karma’s quick turnabout.

You were saying? he asked pointedly over a private channel.

Shut—shut up, she sent back.

They had seen dozens, hundreds, of children dressed as them over the years. They had gotten used to it, and though it was sweet, they did not really feel anything from it anymore. It was nearly comical, then, how these two particular children made him and Roxy feel so much.

Distracted with trying to regain his composure and stop being on the verge of involuntary shut down, he failed to notice Gregory and Cassie’s approach until the two of them were standing right in front of him and Roxy.

Given Roxy’s choked little sound of surprise, she had similarly been caught off guard. Curse Monty and Chica for sidling away and not warning them.

Gregory and Cassie grinned up at them knowingly. “Like our costumes?” Gregory asked, his eyes nearly glowing with mischief.

“I know you probably see tons just like them,” Cassie said, faux shyly, tugging at the crop top layered over her gray shirt. “Or even better ones. But we did our best!”

Roxy twitched. Freddy’s attempts at internal damage control were not going well.

“Yeah,” Gregory said, not nearly as good at playing bashfully innocent when the slant of his smile warned of the one-hit knock-out verbal punch he was about to deliver. “You’re our favorites, after all, and we wanted to be just like you.”

The punch landed. Freddy’s systems flashed a brief warning before he went into a soft reset. The last thing he registered was Roxy crashing simultaneously with him, which made him feel only marginally better.

#i answered a thing #anonymous #fnaf fic #fnaf security breach #fnaf ruin #star's stories #life and times of star

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juvenillia · 7 months

Text

~ Death of Peace of Mind ~ 05: defeat

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x fem!reader

photo credits go to very talented @ave661

a/n: I already have eleven chapters ready of this story and I can't believe that I started it as little collections and now we're deep in a full on fic, always glad to hear your thoughts and thanks for reading

CW/TW: mentions of trauma, loss, ptsd, smoking, guilt, rebuke, death, mental sickness

wordcount: 2.7k

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Simon was already in the shared office working on his reports from yesterday's mission. He had an unpleasant night, and especially weird dreams and for this reason he decided to head to the office rather early. His mind went through the whole mission process from yesterday while working through the report. His thoughts always stopped back at you. The way this mission could've ended in a complete disaster if even one of you messed up, but you were able to hand it down so smoothly together. The way you instantly understood him and the way both of you worked perfectly in tandem. He was impressed, he wouldn’t tell you, but he was indeed impressed. He shook his head and kept writing until he heard a dull clonk in front of him. Johnny placed a mug in front of him, Simon raised his brows at him. "Dinnea gimme that look. Kyle made it.", he chuckled and hold tight onto his own cup filled with coffee and Simon smiled only the slightest and took a sip out of the mug.

Johnny eyed over the already written parts and smiled content. "Lass's fitting in quite good, eh.", he finally said before moving over to his desk. Simon didn't answer. He knew what Johnny wanted to express, but Simon was still so guarded about you. Sure, the stories Price and you shared yesterday helped a lot. It showed him that you could be able to be trusted, but you still had to earn it, and if he was honest, he didn’t seem to understand your behavior around the base. Johnny stirred clearly absent in his mug, rubbing his still tired eyes.

You, however, were already in the gym running kilometre after kilometre on the treadmill. For a few hours, you could finally find some rest, sleeping without any presence of any images before your eyes. The alcohol provided you some peace, but as soon as you woke up, everything was over. You unlocked your phone and were instantly greeted by a name and realization hit right into your head. You wanted to text her last night. You wanted to apologize for everything. You wanted to be there for her today, but you couldn't. A huge discomforting rage boiled up inside your stomach, and that's why you decided to hit the gym as early as possible to get the frustration out of your system. But nothing seemed to work. After you felt a huge exhaustion creep over your body, you stopped the running and decided to get your reports ready.

After the first smoke, before even hitting the gym, you already mapped everything for the report out. You only needed to write everything neatly down and planned on handing them over to the Lieutenants desk as soon as possible to spend the rest of the day with yourself alone. You couldn't bear anything today. You even thought about asking Price for permission to leave the base for today. Taking your motorbike and just driving around the landside until you forget about this god damn anniversary. An anniversary you never wanted to even have to think of. But as soon as you would've asked Price, he would be questioning it, and you didn't want to talk about it. You didn't want to risk anything. So, you made your way up to the office to hand the files over to just hide yourself away for the rest of the day.

You entered the office, and both Soap and Ghost were already on their desk, greeting you silently. Soap with his signature smirk and Ghost – as always – just nodding along. "Morning."You bluntly made your way up to Ghost's desk and put the files on top of it. He just eyed you and nodded, pleased that you were already finished. He was used to it to run after every bloody report since Kyle and Johnny never had a big interest in getting the paperwork done. "Slept well, bonnie?", Soap's voice caught your attention, and the smile he wore kept it. Soap looked in your face and could suddenly feel a huge urge to wrap his arms around you. You looked miserable. Every glimpse of energy your body had left after that night, was gone after the excessive workout in the morning. The Scot immediately regretted his question. "Yer alright?", he added in a way more concerned voice, standing up and getting a bit closer to you. He would never want to disturb you, to invade your personal space, but right here, right now, he just wanted to reach out and help you.

You immediately stepped back, looking tired at him. You waved it off. Also, Ghost saw that you weren't alright. His attention laid onto you, even putting down his pen to watch carefully. "Just tell me if I can help with something. Eh.", he said while keep standing in place. The urge to just hold you grew with every second. Soap remembered how comforting a simple and honest hug can be. It can help healing and Soap couldn't stand seeing you so devastated.

"I'm fine. Just need some rest.", you lied half-assed with a forced smile. Soap stepped a bit forward. "Just let me know, will ya. We’re team, y’know.", he placed a hand on your shoulder. Just gently brushing over it and you immediately shoved his arm away. "Mind your own fucking business, okay.", you snapped and hissed even sharper than intended. Your eyes looking in completely disgust at his shocked eyes. He only nodded so slightly but with pure sadness written all over his face. Before Ghost could even intervene, you left the office. Your steps carrying you away as fast as possible.

You felt so pathetic. Curled up in yourself on top of your bed clinging onto the little plate between your fingers. It originally shiny metal was used, scratched and there was a huge piece missing at one of the corners. Tears streamed down your cheeks. You weren't allowed to show any weakness, but here within the safety of your own walls you could be vulnerable. You could scream and cry as much as you needed. As much as you tried to block out your emotions, you were only human, and the immense guilt ate you up. You lifted it up, pressed the cold metal against your forehead, just like he always did. You imagined him here with you, his hands caressing your cheeks, teasingly telling you how ugly you looked when crying. A desperate laugh escaped your lungs and you wished for silence. Some peace for your God damn mind. You wished to trade places with him.

All the years of being part of the military taught you many things. How to help others, how to turn even the shittiest situation around, how to read people, how to trust people, but it also taught you how to close off for the rest of the world. It taught you how to isolate yourself, just in case. Because what it showed you, is that even if you tried you best, you could never save all of them. You were just a pawn in a chess match. Completely interchangeable, and nobody cared about the tragic things you had to experience. Nobody cared about the loss you had to process. All the years had built a cold wall around you, forcing yourself to shut down. Shut down your emotions after the first time you lost someone. The first time you had to suffer from this immense guilt.

Afterwards you were not more than a vessel. Send out to kill, living to obey. Your life was nothing more than an order. You saw your days unfold without a meaning. Without a reason to go on. There was just that duty to fulfill. Then, without a warning he came into your life. He took your hand and pulled you up from the ground of the ocean. He literally saved you from drowning. He showed you, how beautiful this life can be even with the job you had to do. He showed you reasons to fight for, to live for. He brought the version of yourself back that was long forgotten and with him you learned a way of living that you never wanted to give up. You learned so much, you felt so much. You were so blind, and he taught you to see again and now, your only wish was to see him again. See his dumb smile again, hear his voice again, but he was gone.

You didn't know how much time went by, but when you stood up once more your glance wandered to the window, showing you an already stained red sky. You were surprised that literally nobody came along. Scolding you for being nothing than a futile, but you didn’t care. You went into the bathroom, splashed your face with some cold water, not even daring to look into the mirror and went outside. Trying to calm your nerves with a smoke before hopefully being able to get some sleep tonight. Exhausting your body as far as possible that it would give in. You put the little plate into the box with your lighter and the cigarettes while sitting on the patio at the very back at the base. Praying that nobody, especially not Soap, would cross your way now. You didn’t care about seats. You just went to the very back, cross-legged leaning against the cold wall. Box placed next to your still trembling body. Lighting one of the cigarettes and let your thoughts roam over everything you gave up and left behind because of your own stupidity. The smoke bringing back a familiar raspy feeling into your throat.

You noticed a few cracks of the wooden floor, means someone walked over it, but you didn’t give it a second thought. Until you heard someone clearing his throat. Your head tilted into the direction, and you were met with a 6'2 huge statue. Your head immediately fell back against the wall while you took a long drag from your fag. He came closer, you could feel the wood beneath you vibrate. “We need to talk.”, his voice was even deeper, rougher than you remembered. “Not interested.”, you breathed it out with a thick cloud of smoke. He was standing right next to you, “That wasn’t a request, Sergeant.”

A sigh escaped your throat with some more smoke. You pushed yourself up, not facing him, leaning against the wall with your back, dragging at the fag again. Ghost could see your exhausted face, he could see your swollen eyes. He knew you were anything but alright, but he wasn’t able to keep himself together, not after this morning. “You stepped a line.”, he exhaled cold, keeping his gaze onto your figure. You put the fag out on the heel of your boot, “Don’t think so.” Your eyes were pinned onto the fence in front of you. “Look at me when we’re talking.”, he demanded cold while stepping even further to you. You bit the inside of your cheek, before pushing yourself off the wall and facing him. Your eyes still burning, you investigated his. “And now?”, your tone was broken bur stern. He bended himself a bit over, to lower himself on eye level with you. “Now you tell me what the bloody hell you think you’re doing.” – “I’m doing my job, Lieutenant.”

He was close, and you could once more feel his hot breath through his mask brushing over your skin. This time was different because his eyes told you something you haven’t seen till now. They hold a death glare, and they wouldn’t let you go. “So, your job is to mess with my Sergeant.”, his voice was cutting right through your mind. Your brows narrowed, and your tongue clicked, “You really have to play babysitter here?” His hands balled to fist, his knuckles turning white. During the training, he was pissed, but this mood was very different. He really could tear you apart, and maybe something inside you just wanted it. That he would punish you the way you deserved it. You deserved to be yelled at. You deserved to be punched. For all that you did, for all that you said. The incident with Soap was just to the top of the iceberg.

“Listen closely.”, he leaned back and straightened up, looking condescending down at you. “I don’t care who you think you are. I don’t care where you came from.”, you could definitely see his jaw clench, even hidden behind the mask. His arms crossed before his chest, “I don’t care how decent the job is you make. I don’t care about your sloppy skills.”; that was an understatement, “and I don’t care what Price sees in you.”, that was straightforward a lie. “If you treat the members of this team like rubbish, it will be my pleasure to show you your place.” His harsh tone sent shivers down your spine. He didn’t yell, but this low, cold voice was worse. “If they decided to trust ya and even help yer pathetic self, then at least be polite with them. Otherwise, I can’t guarantee for anything.” His accent was thick, and you swallowed hard. Still staring into those eyes that could kill you alone with their glance. “I’m not gonna let ya destroy what we built up.”, he added with a hiss through gritted teeth.

Suddenly, it hit you like a ton of bricks. This situation, this conversation, all of it felt too familiar. Another wave of guilt washed over your mind. He is still staring at you, boring daggers into your head, waiting for a response. Tears pricked in the corner of your eyes. That was the moment you broke eye contact. Turning your head back to the ceiling in front of you. Your finger started fidgeting with the hem of your pocket. “Yes, sir.”, you bit your lip, not able to produce more words while the lump in your throat grew bigger and bigger. Ghost only blinked at your response. From all what he learnt about you, he was prepared. Prepared to have a full-on argument, screaming at each other, fighting, but that you would just stand here. Completely defeated, that was something he wasn’t prepared of. Without a word, you left for your barrack and left an utterly confused Lieutenant back at the patio. Just as you walked around the corner, the tears started to run over your cheeks again. Where was the persona that took over to protect you in such a situation? Your ptsd always hitting in the wrong moments, but never when you could really need this different personality.

Ghost was left behind, his eyes followed as you left and went back to the place, he found you. His head started to hurt. “Bloody hell… women...”, he exhaled calm while staring at the now empty place. What he found instead of your figure was a little blue box made from wood. A shark engraved on it. He shouldn’t open it, but it also could’ve been something he needed to know. Something that could help to put you in your place for the next time. He just looked back to the path you just trailed off, just in case for you to grab it, but there was no sign of you coming back, so he decided to open it. In the box, he only found some cigarettes, a brand he was unfamiliar with, a lighter, and something that caught his interest the most. He pulled out a damaged dog tag and observed it. His eyes softened slightly, and he once looked more in the direction you went off. He shoved everything back in the box and wanted to bring it back to you. That was something important to you, and the guilt that washed over him because you left it behind because of him hunted him. He had no right into digging into your private belongings.

“Lt. Ya commin?”, Johnny’s voice brought him back. He stood some feet away from the terrace. Ghost only shoved the box into the pocket of his jacket before he walked over to catch some dinner with his teammates. He would give it back, but without the curious eyes from others. It was wrong enough that he invaded your privacy like that.

taglist: open just lmk

@yyiikes @saffronimagines @originaldeerhottub @illuminwtesz

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lily-janus · 1 year

Text

Why Would You Be Interested In Someone Like Me?

Summary: Logan and Roman want to ask each other out, but neither thinks the other would be interested...

Pairing: pre-romantic Logince

Warnings: kissing, insecurities, low self esteem.

Word count: 4,215

For @loginceweek2023 day 1 - Insecurity

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

The minute Logan walked inside the school building he noticed something was different. The place seemed emptier than it usually is before classes start… or so he thought until he heard excited murmurs and saw up ahead a big group of students huddling in front of the announcement board.

Logan sighed, knowing what this was about now. It's the end of December, meaning New Years is coming up this weekend… and, of course, the school hosted a party to celebrate. Not only that, but as if to make matters more stressful, there's a dancing competition too that everyone suddenly became so obsessed with winning at, that they stopped talking about anything else!

It was truly exhausting each year… for Logan, at least, everyone else always seemed perfectly happy and excited. Everyone, including-

"Specs! There you are!" Before Logan even had time to replay, Roman tugged his arm until they were both in the middle of all the huddled students. He tugged him along until they,, at last reached the front and he saw the poster featuring this year's theme. "Look! This year's theme is royalty!" Roman gestured excitedly to the poster.

Logan scoffed. "Yes, I can see that Roman." He pushed up his glasses, reading it over.

Logan failed to see why Roman was showing him this, since he knows full well Logan almost never showed up to these kinds of things and his deep dislike of such events. But Roman needed an audience for his excitement, he supposes.

"Oh, this is going to be so fun! I already have the perfect outfit in mind and I'm totally going to win this year! I can just feel it!" Roman grinned, hoping in place as the crowd of students slowly disbanded, leaving only Logan and Roman.

"Yes, well, you're not going to win anything if you're late to class… again, so I suggest we'll start making our way there." Logan pointed out, turning around and starting to walk to their classroom, expecting Roman to follow.

"C'mon, Teach, I know it's not your favorite thing but you have to be at least a little excited about this dance," Roman said as he fell into step next to him.

Logan gave him a pointed look, making Roman roll his eyes. "Right, mister top-student has more important things to occupy his mind than a silly dance," Roman said mockingly.

"I know you're mocking me, but yes, I do." Logan agreed.

Roman groaned in the exaggerated way of his. "How can you make even mocking you boring?"

Logan gave him a tiny, teasing smile at that. "Years of practice."

The day passed on in an unusual slowness, everyone once again starting to obsess over what they were going to wear and who they were going to invite, he was honestly starting to get a serious headache. It didn't help that he was best friends with the number one fan of these kinds of things.

"So this is the first outfit that I thought of…" Roman said, showing him a picture on his phone of a fancy king costume, complete with a ridiculously huge crown. "But after a while, I started thinking if this might be better…" he swiped to a picture of a prince costume, much tamer than the previous one but no less fancy for it, a white and gold dress shirt with a red sash going from the right shoulder to the left side of the waist and a black pair of pants. And, of course, a tiara.

Logan could already see Roman in that outfit, it suited his usual mannerisms perfectly… for some reason that mental image made him feel a tad bit warmer-

"So what do you think? Which should I choose?" Roman was looking at him expectantly.

Logan looked away, feeling a little flushed. "I think the second suits you more um… excuse me for a moment.." he got up from where he was sitting opposite Roman in the cafeteria and walked quickly towards the bathroom.

It seemed to happen more and more often recently, Roman and him would hang out like they did countless times before… and then, suddenly, Logan would start feeling… strange. It was highly confusing and Logan always found some kind of an excuse to run off and compose himself, but he has to admit it had gotten harder to avoid these strange emotions as time went on… but he didn't know what else to do!

Finally, the school day came to a close and he and Roman departed, each going to their house. Logan had decided at last on what to do regarding his… feelings, he shall ask for advice from his older brother, he has always been more capable of navigating these kinds of social interactions.

"Well, if it isn't my dear brother." His brother smirked at him when he entered.

"Janus, enjoying winter break I see," Logan said, hanging his coat and stepping out of his muddy shoes before stepping from the doorway and into the house, shuddering slightly as the warmth enveloped him.

"Quite indeed, how was school? I know you simply adore this time of year." Janus teased as he looked at him from where he was sitting on the couch, watching Netflix.

Logan sighed tiredly. "It was… tiresome, as always…" even more so than usual…

Janus frowned slightly, pausing whatever he was watching to give him his full attention. "What's on your mind, Lo?"

It was incredibly frustrating how easily Janus could read people, Logan especially. Most people consistently told Logan how stoic and unexpressive he was and so it always baffled him how Janus sees through him with ease.

Logan hesitated, true, it was his original plan to ask Janus for advice… but now… he didn't know what to say, a rare occurrence for him.

Janus' smirk widened at his hesitation. "Wait a second… Are you embarrassed? Oh, now I gotta hear it!"

Logan took a deep breath. "It's… about Roman…" he started hesitantly. "I've… just been feeling… strange, around him lately." He flushed slightly.

Janus' eyes widened in sudden realization. "Oh my-"

"You know what? Forget I said anything, this was a bad idea and I should just shove these feelings down and hope they'll go away." Logan suddenly felt uncomfortably exposed and wanted to hide in his room, but Janus stopped him, clearly trying to hide his smile.

"Wait, wait, sorry, I'll be serious now. It just… took me by surprise." Janus gently guided him to sit next to him.

"You and me both…" Logan muttered under his breath.

"So, you have a crush on Roman," Janus said after a beat of silence.

Logan sputtered. "I… what? That's… that's not what I said! The mere suggestion is ridiculous!" He protested.

Janus rolled his eyes. "You're right, of course, how silly of me."

"Incredibly silly." Logan agreed, still flustered by Janus' statement.

"So, what, pre-tell, are these mysterious feelings you've been having around your best friend?" Janus asked with a sarcastic tinge.

"Well… I would suddenly start to feel… warmer than I was, mainly in my cheeks, and my heartbeat would increase like it does when I'm nervous but… we've been friends for years, why would I be nervous around him?" Logan wondered aloud.

Janus let out a deep sigh. "I sometimes forget how oblivious you are, are you even hearing yourself?"

Logan frowned, was he missing something? "What are you-"

Rising body temperature, increased heart rate… oh no…

"I have a crush on my best friend." Logan suddenly realized. "Janus, I have a crush on my best friend," he said again with a panic. He shook his head. "No, no, no. This is bad, this is worse than I thought! What am I supposed to do?!"

Janus chuckled, grabbing him by his shoulders. "I suggest you'll calm down first."

Logan nodded taking deep breaths. "Yeah, you're right, no reason to freak out, I know what to do now."

Janus nodded.

"Ask him to the dance."

"Avoid him until it goes away."

They stared at each other. "Wait, what?" They said together again.

"Ask him to the dance? Have you figuratively lost your mind?!" Logan sputtered at the mere thought… He and Roman, dressed like royalty… dancing. His cheeks warmed again.

"Yes, because avoiding him forever is very realistic. But if you want to take the cowardly way, be my guest." Janus rolled his eyes, waving his arm in a dismissive gesture.

Logan sighed, rubbing his eyes underneath his glasses. "Maybe you're right but… asking him to the dance? You know I don't fare well in these kinds of social events…"

Janus gave him a small smile. "But you do want to go with Roman, don't you? It's worth a shot."

Logan nodded, considering. "Okay, yeah, maybe I do but…"

Janus raised an eyebrow. "But?"

"But what if he says no? Or worse, says yes? He's… well he's not just my best friend, he's my only friend… I don't even know why he hangs out with me half the time. He could go with anyone he wants… why would that be me of all people?" Logan rubbed the back of his hand furiously as he voiced his concerns.

Janus took his hands, squeezing them reassuringly. "He hangs out with you because he likes you, Logan, you'll never know if you don't try. If he says yes, great, you'll have a fun evening of dancing together. And if he says no, it may take a while but you'll go back to being friends in the end."

Logan thought this over, this is all very new to him, and he's scared of messing things up with Roman and ending up alone… but, Janus was right, he'll never know if he won't ask.

After a few more minutes of consideration, Logan nodded. "Can't believe I'm saying this but… I'm going to ask Roman to the dance… not scary at all…"

Janus chuckled again, patting his back encouragingly. "That's the spirit! And if he breaks your heart, I already have an incredibly tall staircase to nudge him off of." He winked and got up from the couch. "Go get him, tiger." And with that, he walked to his room.

"My name's Logan…" he said, but Janus was already gone.

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

"Remus, stop it, I'm not going to ask him," Roman said for what felt like the millionth time as he was making adjustments to his outfit. He reached his hand beside him, "gold thread."

Remus handed it to him as he groaned. "But why? You've been mooning over him for years!"

"Because, Remus, he made it very clear he hates this dance and I don't want to pressure him to go, red thread." Remus put it in his waiting palm. "I can ask him out when this blows over."

"Really? Then why didn't you do it yet huh? You're just a big coward is what you are." Remus huffed.

Roman dropped his needle and turned around to face his twin. "I'm not a coward, I'm a romantic, I'm waiting for the right moment-"

"Which is now!" Remus argued, throwing his arms in the air in exasperation. "Maybe he hates this dance so much because no one ever asked him! Did you think about that?"

Roman huffed. "Yeah, like Logan, of all people will care if he gets asked or not, just stay out of my love life okay? I can handle myself."

Remus rolled his eyes. "Trust me, I'm dying to, but it's kind of hard when you fucking don't stop talking about him! Just ask the damn guy out! It's not that complicated!"

"Trust me, now is not the time to ask Logan out, he's always in a bad mood this time of year with Christmas and New Years and the school dance, I just don't wanna add to his plate-"

"Blah, blah, blah. Excuses, excuses. You always find a reason why 'it's not the time' just man up and ask him already! I don't understand why you keep avoiding this!" Remus cut him off. "You know what? I don't care! Ask him, don't ask him, throw him off a cliff for all I know! Just stop whining about him like a little bitch!"

And with that, Remus left his room, slamming the door behind him.

Roman looked over at his outfit. He imagined what Logan would have chosen to wear if they went together. Probably something tame and serious, maybe a suit that'll hug his frame tightly-

He shook his head, it's not going to happen since they're not going together. Even if he'll ask and Logan will agree, he won't have fun there… it's just not Logan's style.

Remus was right though, he was kinda… maybe, avoiding this. But can you blame him? It's Logan for heaven's sake! Sure they've been friends since practically day one but why would serious, confident, smart Logan ever go out with someone as insecure and um… expressive as him?

Roman is pretty sure he'll say no, and then what? The chances of them staying friends after that are pretty low…

But what if he says yes?

He fantasized about this scenario plenty, of course, but he just doesn't see it happening in reality. So…. He's just been avoiding the topic.

Besides, Logan has been acting… strange, lately. Running off at random times with a rushed excuse… not meeting Roman's eyes… he fears maybe he doesn't want them to be friends anymore, maybe he finally had enough of Roman's theatrics and just doesn't know how to tell him that…

Roman sighs, folding his outfit carefully and putting it in his closet. He can't wait to go to this dance and forget about all this for a while, maybe he'll even win the contest!

But, as his mother called him and Remus down for dinner, he couldn't help but wonder what it'll be like with Logan… rather than without…

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

The following morning, Logan was walking to school.

That alone was far than unusual since he did that each weekday morning since first grade, the things that raced through his mind as he walked though… now those were highly unusual if not down right delusional.

Was he really going to do it? Ask Roman Prince out for the school dance everyone knows he hates? What was he thinking? He must be going insane, it's the only logical explanation as to why he's considering this…

And yet… and yet he can't help but get nervously excited at the prospect. The idea of him agreeing and them going together made Logan feel… warm, was the only way he can describe it, inside.

If he doesn't however…

He shook his head, just as he stepped into the hallway, there's no use dwelling on that… he'll just um 'shoot his shot' as they say and see what happens, afterwards he'll figure out how to deal with the outcome.

Logan nodded to himself, mind decided-

Until he saw Roman.

At the sight of his best friend, and apparently his major crush at the moment, all thought fled from his mind and he just stared for a long, embarrassing moment.

Luckily, Roman's back was to him so he hadn't noticed Logan yet.

He can't do this.

Logan suddenly realized as Roman finally turned to him and smiled, waving at him.

Logan forced himself to smile back, walking over to him to greet him.

"Good morning, Teach!" Roman grinned at him with his dashing smile.

Logan nodded at him. "Morning, Roman, how are you today?" He asked as they started walking.

"I'm super! Getting ready to rock this dance! How about you, Lo?" Roman answered excitedly.

At the mention of the school dance, Logan's stomach churned.

Ask him.

Said a voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like his older brother. Logan took a deep breath, looking around at the bustling hallway.

Here? In the middle of this huge crowd?

Logan shook the thought away. No, not now, he'll wait until they're both alone.

"...Specs?"

Logan snapped back from his pondering to find a concerned Roman looking at him expectantly. He blinked. "Yes, Roman?"

Roman frowned at him. "Are you okay? You're acting… strange. Are you sick or something? How many times do I have to tell you, the world won't end if you miss a few days of school to get better!" He stopped walking, looking Logan up and down.

"I'm not sick, Roman." Was all he said in response.

"Then what is it? You're starting to worry me…"

Just say the words, it's not that hard!

Logan swallowed. "I um… I was just wondering if you… I mean, if you wanted to um…" he fumbled with his words, getting increasingly more flustered.

"Logan, it's okay, whatever it is you can tell me!" Roman reassured him. Of course he did, he was always sweet like that.

Logan still hesitated, playing with the sleeves of his shirt as he was trying to find the courage to ask him.

Suddenly, Roman turned and walked to a nearby classroom, checking to see if it was empty, then motioning Logan to step inside. Closing the door behind him.

"Okay, just us now, what's wrong?" Roman asked again.

This is it…

Logan took a deep breath, stealing his nerves. "Roman, I wanted to ask you if…" he closed his eyes, irrationally unable to look Roman in the eyes. "Would you want to go to the dance… with me?" He finally managed to say, opening his eyes slowly.

There was a long moment of silence as Roman processed the question. He blinked in surprise. "Wait… what?"

Logan sighed. "Stupid idea, I know, forget I said anything-"

Roman takes his hand, grinning. "Yes! Yes, of course I want to go with you! I just thought you didn't like this dance." He explained.

A wave of relief washed over Logan and he smiled, lacing his fingers with Roman, his palm was so warm. "Well I'm certainly not a fan but… I feel like I won't mind it as much with you…"

Suddenly Roman pulled at their joined hands until their foreheads touched, his warm breath fanning over Logan's face. "I wanted to ask you out for so long I just… didn't know how." He said softly.

Logan flushed at their proximity and Roman's words, eyes drawn to his lips. "Really? I didn't think you'd be interested in someone like me…"

Roman chuckled at that. "Funny… I thought the same thing…" He looked down, taking a step back but keeping their hands together.

Logan took a moment to process that. "Wait… you thought I won't be interested in you? I'm pretty sure everyone in school is, how can they not?" Logan said, blant as always.

Roman looked up, blushing deeply. "I… I don't know… you're so smart and confident and perfect and I'm… not…" he shrugged.

Logan couldn't believe what he's hearing, of course he knew Roman was more insecure than he lets on but this? This is absurd!

He squeezed their joined hands. "Roman, you're my best and only friend. Sure we're very different but that doesn't mean I don't enjoy being with you. You're smart in your own way, you're sweet and caring and charming and of course I would be interested in you, I don't understand why you think I wouldn't but-"

And, before Logan knew it, they were kissing, sweet and gentle. Logan felt himself melting at the intimate touch, for once losing touch with reality as the sensations overwrote his senses.

They broke apart to catch their breaths, looking at each other, both of them flushed.

"So ah… dance?" Roman asked hopefully with a shy smile.

Logan shook his head, chuckling. "Yes Roman, dance." He clarified.

Roman gave him a sly smile that turned Logan's blush a deeper red. "Do you have an outfit in mind?"

Logan's eyes widened. "Oh no, please not-"

"Makeover time!" Roman declared with a flourish. "Come to my place after school and I'll fix you up in no time! Now come on, classes are about to start!" With a spring in his step, he led them out of the empty room and towards their first class of the day.

"Maybe the dance wasn't the best idea…" Logan said, but Roman just laughed.

"Too late! Get ready, nerd, you're about to become a 'fancy nerd' !" He accompanied the last phrase with jazz hands.

Logan rolled his eyes, but couldn't help but smile at Roman's… Roman-ness.

Him and Roman… going to the dance… together… this is really happening huh?

Yes. Yes, it was happening.

The rest of the days following their first kiss should probably have been a clue that this was indeed very much real and not some elaborate dream, but it was still hard to believe even with all the hard evidence.

After Logan finally worked the courage to ask Roman out, things moved rather quickly. That day after school he went with Roman to his house and they spent hours trying on different outfits and styles on Logan, trying to find something that'll fit Logan and the dance theme.

They finally settled on a royal blue coat with golden buttons with a white dress shirt underneath and matching blue dress pants. Complete with a gentle tiara with blue fake gems and-

"No." Logan said when he saw what Roman held up for him.

Roman pouted. "What's a king without his cape?" He said. "C'mon, the outfit's not the same without the finishing touch!" He wiggled the cape enticingly at him.

Logan rolled his eyes. "I feel ridiculous enough already, thank you."

Roman bit his lip, looking Logan up and down once again, he did that so many times even Logan stopped counting. "Ridiculous is not how I'll describe it."

Logan flushed but still shook his head. "No capes."

Roman whistled. "Gee Teach, pulling out the Pixar references. Have it your way then." He finally relented, putting the dark blue cape aside. "I think we found your look regardless."

Logan nodded, going to the bathroom to change to his normal clothes and go back to his house.

As he was heading out, Roman suddenly planted a brief kiss to his cheek. He pulled away and grinned. "See you tomorrow!"

A little stunned, Logan just nodded and walked outside.

Before Logan knew it, the day of the dance came.

"C'mon, let me see you, your highness"

Logan heard Janus' teasing tone from the other side of the door. Why was he doing this again? He wondered as he looked at himself in the mirror once more.

He felt utterly ridiculous and uncomfortable in the stiff outfit and his cheeks burned as he imagined Janus' reaction to seeing him in this.

"I… think I might be getting sick, it's flu season after all… maybe I should-"

"Nice try, Logan, you're not getting out of this that easy." Janus cut him off.

Logan sighed. "Fine, just promise you won't laugh?"

He heard his older brother chuckle. "I make no promises, but it's either that or be late to your precious date…" Janus pointed out.

Logan pinched the bridge of his nose, he was right, damn him but he was right.

He took a deep breath, then twisted the door handle and walked outside. He barely blinked before he heard the click of a camera and saw Janus with his phone at the ready.

"Perfect." Janus smirked at him, taking a few more shots of him.

Logan rolled his eyes. "Great, you got your blackmail material, can I go now?"

Janus chuckled again, doing a mock bow. "Be on your way, your royal highness."

Logan huffed. "You're impossible." He muttered as he walked past him and out the door.

"Love you too, Lo!" He heard him call after him.

A short walk later, and he's at the school dance, looking around for Roman nervously. He could feel everyone's eyes on him and knows what they're most likely thinking:

Logan Sanders, top student and hater for all non-serious things, attending the dance with the most ridiculous outfit in existence…

A hand on his shoulder makes him jump and turn around sharply, only to freeze on the spot at the sight that greeted him, feeling his cheeks heat up.

Roman chuckles at Logan' jump, eyeing him up and down appreciatively… and looking like a prince straight out of a fairytale book. With his dashing smile, the white dress shirt laces delicately with gold and red threads, a red sash going across it from the left shoulder to the right side of his waist and a pair of black dress pants that hug his frame snugly.

Logan swallows as Roman smirks at his staring, biting his lip. "What? This ol' thing?" He indicated his outfit. "I just threw it on me at the last minute."

"I… um… You look… Adequate." He finally managed to say.

Roman raised an eyebrow playfully. "Just 'adequate'? That blush says otherwise."

Logan flushes darker at that, looking away from Roman's gorgeous green eyes.

Roman chuckles, hooking his hand in Logan's. "You're too cute for your own good, care for a dance?" And with that, he was pulled to the dance floor.

To Logan's surprise, the night went… really well, and he actually managed to have fun even with his awkwardness and everything.

Being here, with Roman, just felt… right.

#sanders sides #logan sanders #roman sanders #janus sanders #remus sanders #janus and remus are done with roman and logan's pinning lol #pre romantic logince #logince #loginceweek2023 #day 1 - insecurity #Lily writes #this came out way longer than intended heh #hope you all will like it #cw kissing #tw low self esteem

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thedevilsbckbone · 7 months

Text

continued from here

As he got himself comfortable on the couch, Dorian waved off her comment about her socks. "Don't worry about it, make yourself as comfortable as you need while you wait. I really don't mind." He continued to assure Raina, not wanting her to feel uncomfortable - both physically and mentally. In fact, he hoped to make a good impression since this was their first actual conversation and he didn't want to mess anything up and cause her to think she was living next to some weirdo. "Yeah, no problem. I hope you like it." He nodded his head with a smile when she thanked him for the drink.

Settling back against the couch, turned slightly towards her to be able to continue to comfortably converse with her, Dorian was already forgetting about the chapters of his novel that he needed to get completed for his quickly approaching due date. As she began to talk about her own work, the author found himself quickly becoming even more fascinated by the woman. "Aerial arts instructor? Like swinging around on hopes and ribbons? Oh wow, that's really cool. I imagine that has to take so much strength and coordination." His smile was bright, as he recalled images of vintage circus performers dancing around in the air and imagined her in them. It made him even more curious as to what other interesting and unique activities she got up to. "And you said you should have come back to study, are you in school right now?" He wanted to learn as much as he could about his beautiful neighbor.

He was chuckling about her weather app comment, having related to the sentiment but as her laugh suddenly faded and he glanced back at her to see the shift in her expression, Dorian found himself worried for a split second, wondering if something was wrong. Had he said or done something he hadn't meant to? He didn't get to ponder that question for long though as something seemed to click in Raina's eyes that Dorian thought could have been perceived as - was it recognition? Before he had a chance to say something, Raina was speaking again, asking if he was the author of the very series that he was working on - the latest half written chapter sitting open on his laptop in front of him. Unable to help it, Dorian found himself blushing bashfully at the realization that she read his work. What were the odds of that? And not only did she read them, she was a huge fan."

"Oh uh... yeah actually -- that would be me." He confirmed with a sheepish chuckle, glancing down for a moment to try and get himself together. He still wasn't quite used to people recognizing and looking up to him but the fact that Raina just so happened to be not only his neighbor that he had developed a small crush on, but she was also a fan of his work. Somehow that seemed to only put the pressure on the male even more to try and impress her. "No, don't apologize! It's cool, I'm just.... I'm not very good at the whole being recognized thing." He gave an awkward chuckle as he tried to recover. "But thank you. I'm honestly really glad to know that you enjoy my work. Actually - funny enough - I was working on the next book in the series before you knocked. Well, I say working but really I've just been staring at a half written chapter for the past two hours." He offered said, offering her a lighthearted smile.

Closed starter for @autumnwritcs

#tr; dorian kapoor #in; raina lee #raina lee; 001 #autumnwritcs #hey sorry had to repost this in beta bc I lost legacy #matenme porqueue me muero

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georgiapeach30513 · 2 years

Note

the mental image of James and Beau walking around the construction sites followed by a fleet of little boys in hard hats and tool belts just makes me absolutely giggle

Oh my goodness!! They always seem to have a pod of boys with them. They've got Zephyr, Thorne, Arlo, Oakley, and Briar. And these kids are ALL boy. They do not care to get dirty, in fact they find it hilarious to roll around in the dirt once they've got good and sweaty. Beau and James always have to hose them down, or let them play in any body of water, if possible. They can be quite a big help, and Zephyr being the oldest keeps them in line.

But just because Zephyr was the first babe to visit a jobsite...let's take a look into when he started going to work with Uncle James.

🖤🖤🖤🖤

Baby No More

Summary: Zephyr comes to work with James

Pairings: Beau X Zephyr

Rating: 🥺😂

Warnings: none, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 900

Desperate Lives AU Masterlist

Zephyr Masterlist

A two-year-old Zephyr looks up at his uncle James with the biggest smile on his face. He sticks up a chubby hand, and grabs James’ in his own as they walk up the stairs of the build, and Beau stops in his tracks at the sight. “What is this?”

“I Z,” he giggles at the oddly tall man. Beau knows exactly who it is, and it makes Zephyr laugh even harder.

“James, what is this?” Beau adds again.

“He told you,” leaning down he picks up the little boy, and blows a few raspberries on his neck, “This is Zephyr, but we call him Z, remember?”

“Yep. I Z Baiz,” his blue eyes go wide as he looks at the big ceiling in this build. “Wowie. Wook it,” those chubby fingers point up at the chandelier.

“Uh uh, get rid of it.”

“Hey hey, this is my nephew. My buddy. My godson, and his mama’s baby.”

“I not. Archie is.”

“Right,” James agrees with him, looking and Beau he walks past him. “Z is a big boy now. Even pees…well he pees not in his diaper. He’s got to figure the toilet out and does better outside.”

“You can’t just bring babies here.”

“I not baby. I Z.”

“He’s not a baby. And Story had to take Archie to the doctor, Otto went with Carter to work, and her mom had things she needed to do. Iris had a case this morning. Aster had a meeting with Ransom…Lucy is somewhere. Blade is…where’s Blade?”

“I not know.”

“He um sure was busy. So that left me. Z and I have been working on names of tools. He’ll be fine. Story packed us a huge lunch. Which I’m going to get right now. Z, don’t move,” Zephyr freezes in place for a few seconds before he starts walking around.

“No no. Don’t move. Stay. Sit. Don’t.”

“I not dog,” Zephyr responds to him, giving him a odd look that makes Beau think of Story.

“You look like your mom.”

“I know. Daddy says,” Beau nods his head as James carries in the cooler food. “I need snacks,” the youngest boy on the crew digging around for a quick snack. “It’s chocite but it’s hums. What first?”

“What?” Beau asks, and the little boy holds up his snack. “Chocolate hummus. Got it.”

“Watch this,” James raises his eyebrows at Beau and looks back at Zephyr. “I need a hammer,” he looks around and holds his arms up in question when James points to where his tool box is. Beau is pleasantly surprised when. He fetches a hammer and puts it in James hand.

With a shrug of his shoulders, Beau realizes that Z is in fact here to stay. Giving a quick eye roll he goes back to finishing under the sink. Not even realizing Zephyr had walked up to him. Squatting down his curious self is looking into the cabinet. His round eyes look at everything, and he scoots even closer until he gets a good view of what Beau is doing.

“What doin?”

“Uh…something.”

“What thin?”

“Basic plumbing,” he grunts. Sitting up Beau looks at his tools too far away and then at the little boy who gives him a big grin. “How do I do this?”

“What?”

“Wrench?” Zephyr raises an eyebrow up at him. “Fetch wrench.”

“I not dog,” Zephyr giggles. Falling back to sit completely on his butt and he slaps at Beau’s leg. “I Z.”

“Would you get me a wrench?”

“Otay,” Beau can’t help but smile when he gets up by first and walks over to pick up a wrench. “Dis?”

“That’s the one, buddy,” Beau wasn’t expecting that to come out. Hadn’t planned to call him that. But when Zephyr trots back with the biggest smile, Beau lays back, tapping on his belly, “Here lay down, and you can see what I’m doing.”

Zephyr giggles again and lays down with him. Looking up to see what Beau sees.

“Dat?” he points up.

“That is a pipe. The uh water drains down this. And…”

“Goes bye bye.”

“Yeah. Just like that.”

When Arleigh came to bring some snacks to the boys she wasn’t expecting to see her boyfriend with a little toddler laying on him. Beau talking energetically and explaining whatever he was doing made Arleigh’s heart swell. “Well, who is this cutie?”

It isn’t until he sits up that she knows it’s Story’s little boy, “I Z. Know me,” she gives him as scrunchy nose smile, and Z just wiggles around. “Help, B.”

“Yeah,” Beau sits up, letting Zephyr slide down his front. “He’s been a pretty big help.”

“Told ya,” James looks at Beau smiling. “He knows his tools. Bun what cha got?”

“I uh, well it appears a queen took care of it, but I did bring some cookies.”

“Oh!” Zephyrs sits up and jumps up at Arleigh’s feet. “I like,” she scoops the little boy and Beau stands there shocked.

“I know that look,” James whispers watching Beau see Arleigh being so sweet with a toddler. The straps to his overalls falling off his shoulders, and he wanted to be like James and Beau and had no shirt on underneath.

“I pee. Go pee, right now!”

“Ahh, Bunny put the baby down. Z let’s go, hurry, hurry.”

“I not baby no more!”

Masterlist

#desperate lives #desperate lives au #desperate verse #da au #da au chat #dau #zephyr baizen #james rogers #beau adler #beau x zephyr

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soulmate-game · 3 years

Text

Not related to the other two Bio!mom Harley AUs that I did. Just... similar. I wrote this instead of sleeping, as per the usual.

—*—*—*—*—*

“I need your help.”

No accent, no threats of violence, no beating around the bush (figurative or otherwise). No fighting or unconscious bodies.

Just Harley Quinn with her hair down, no makeup, and completely serious, in the center of the Bat Cave. Even though her usual exaggerated Brooklynn accent (circa 1950s) had become a pretty inseparable part of her personality over the years, every now and then she forcibly stuffed it down and used her mostly unaccented voice. The one reminiscent of days with less colors on her face, a high bun, and a pristine white lab coat.

Every single one of the Bats and Birds present, fresh from an interrupted patrol thanks to her, could count the number of times they had seen Harley like this on one hand. Bruce would have the most recollections, but everyone else would have plenty of fingers left on said hand. So they all knew, especially when Bruce willingly pulled down his cowl so he could look Harley in the eye, that this was the start of something they were not likely to forget. And maybe their chances of survival were slim too.

“Harley,” Bruce’s voice was still gruff, seeing as he was still mostly Batman at the moment, but his eyes were soft. “Maybe you should tell us what you need help with first. And sit down. You look exhausted.”

Sure enough, there were dark circles under Harley’s eyes. She let Bruce-man lead her over to one of their debriefing tables and sit her down. She let out a huge sigh, her fingers tangling in her loose blond locks.

“I have a confession, and it isn’t gonna leave this cave, capiche?” The slight return of her accent relieved a little of the tension, but not much. Taking this as their cue, the rest of the bats spread out into their usual seats at the table. Bruce stayed near Harley, keeping a hand on her shoulder in silent support. Harley didn’t continue talking until he gave her a solemn nod in agreement. She gulped— an action that immediately returned the tension.

“... fifteen years ago, back when I was still with Joker, I disappeared off the Gotham scene for a few months. I’m sure a few of you remember,” she looked up, and a couple of the older vigilantes nodded. Really, Jason has still been Robin back then. But the memory stuck out in his head now that he was thinking about it.

“Yeah, you were breaking away from him a little bit, which was weird at the time,” Red Hood mused aloud, arms crossed. “I think you helped us out a couple times and did some of your first team ups with Ivy before you vanished. Then a few months go by and you were back in action with Joker, so we mostly ignored it as you just being you.”

Harley nodded. “Ah, my Ivy’s a lifesaver, even back then. She helped cover up the timeline by keeping me in action for longer than I should’a been without putting me at too much risk.”

“Timeline…” Red Robin spoke up, eyes huge even behind his mask. “You don’t mean—“

“Harley,” Bruce breathed, having also caught on. “You were pregnant?”

The air went still. Harley sniffed, eyes watering even as she smiled.

“Oh yeah. Shouldn’t have been possible, ya know? Me ‘n Joker being dumped in that damn acid should have made us both more sterile than an operatin’ room. But I knew I couldn’t raise a kid, so after she was born—“

“You kept her?” Damian interrupted, earning a gentle cuff over the head from Dick. Harley just snorted.

“Yeah. Not gonna lie, I thought about abortion. But the baby didn’t do nothin’ wrong, and I was still in love with Joker back then so I was ecstatic that I was able to make something new with part ‘a him in it. Still, I knew a baby didn’t deserve to be raised in Gotham. Especially not my baby, not with my enemies and history. Not with who her father was. I knew he’d never want her, never let me keep her. So I spent the last five months of my pregnancy lookin’ around for the best possible family to take her in. And I found them in Paris, France. A sweet couple, both of them bakers. Sabine, she’s both adorably sweet and super kickass. Comes from a Chinese family that is crazy about teachin’ their women martial arts. But nothing shady about it, I triple checked. Just bonding through kicking people in the face. Which is perfect, I wanted my baby to know how to defend herself. I knew she’d need those skills eventually. And Tom, that’s Sabine’s wife, he’s a gentle giant. Same size as Bane, but as harmless as a puppy and makes the best croissants ever. Seriously, the best.”

“Harley,” Bruce gently prodded, but there was a tiny grin on his face. Seeing her behaving so… so normally, so proud and reminiscent, was a rare treat. Bruce would be lying if he said he wasn’t proud of how far the woman had come. How she had freed herself and become a better person, mostly on her own.

“Right, right. The point,” Harley took a breath, rubbing her forehead. “I came clean to Tom and Sabine, but apparently they knew who I was the whole time. They just didn’t care— did I mention they are perfect? Anyway, once I explained everything, they agreed immediately to adopting my baby. They’d been wanting kids, but it would’a been too risky for Sabine’s health. That’s how I found them anyway, they were in the market to adopt. We named her Marinette. She took Tom and Sabine’s last names, hyphenated. We decided Quinn would be her middle name. And after that, I came back to Gotham and told myself that she was in good hands and I needed to forget about her. Cuz I was no good for her. I knew that. I went back to my old tricks. And then…” Harley chuckled, but it was self-depreciating.

“Then a few years passed, and I started breaking away from Joker for real. Then we broke up, I blew up Ace Chemicals while you guys were outta town doing Justice League and Young Justice shit. I started dating Ivy. And—“ she smiled softly at the table, clearly seeing something the rest of them couldn’t. “Then Ivy convinced me to go see her. Visit my baby, see how she’s been. And I did. Marinette was seven years old, but damn it to hell she was gorgeous. And say whatever you want about me and Joker— most of it will even be true— but neither of us are stupid. And she inherited all of our intelligence. All of it. She got my blue eyes. But she got his hair, which meant Sabine teased me relentlessly about ‘are you sure she isn’t that Wayne’s kid?’ And don’t make that face Bruce, you’d be lucky to have a kid half as beautiful as my Mari-pie. No offense, Damian. Anyway. Anyway, this is the important part. Or part of it.

“She sat there and listened to everything I had to say. Everything. A little seven year old, who could barely understand English at the time, and she listened without interrupting once. She never threw a fit, she wasn’t angry or confused. I told her about the things I’d done in the past— well, G rated versions— and she didn’t care. She called me Momma Harley right away, said she wanted to meet Aunt Ivy sometime soon, and started telling me everything about her that I’d missed. From that day on, she became my sunshine. The light of my life, and I still call her at least once a week every week. When I disappear for a few days out of the city? I’m visiting her—“

“You’re banned from international travel, Harley,” Dick scolded, but he sounded way too amused for it to work. He knew she had her ways, anyway. Nobody could actually stop Harley damn Quinn from doing whatever she wanted.

“—Ugh, she tells me the same thing every time! Disappointed glare and everything. I don’t know how I gave birth to such a goodie goodie, but somehow I did. Not important though! The important thing is, I’m always the first to hear when something new happens in her life. And we had decided that she wouldn’t visit me in Gotham until she was at least eighteen, but apparently she disobeyed me— which I should have expected honestly— and entered you guys’ WE international scholastic competition.”

“Oh no,” Bruce pinched the bridge of her nose. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng? The contest winner?” He finally pulled out a chair and sat down. “The winner gets an all-expense paid trip to Gotham for them and their whole class.”

“Exactly!” Harley threw up her hands. “Mari told me last week, and I’ve been trying to talk her out of coming ever since. But she’s inherited both of our stubbornness too, and she isn’t budgin’ a bit. ‘Momma Harley, I wanna see you and Auntie Ivy though!’ And ‘Momma, Gotham’s nothing I can’t handle,’ or my favorite, ‘Maybe you’ll finally get to see me dropkick someone three times my size then, and I’ll prove it.’”

“So that’s what you meant by you need our help,” Tim said as he leaned forward over the table. “Joker just broke out of Arkham yesterday. You want us to protect her.”

“I’d prefer if one of you was with her outside of the mask too, as often as possible,” Harley confirmed. “I can’t stop her from coming here anymore, but I also don’t trust Joker for a second. As soon as he sees her, I’m afraid he’ll make the connection.”

“She looks like him?” Damian asked, scrunching up his nose at the ugly mental image of Joker as a teenage girl. Harley shook her head, solemn.

“She looks like a dark-haired mini-me,” she corrected. “She even keeps her hair in pigtails as her way of showing support for me. And I know Marinette can kick ass, Sabine’s trained her well. But Marinette inherited more than I’d like from me,” Harley ran a hand through her hair. “I didn’t notice it until she was thirteen. She got a crush on a classmate, and it was almost like watching videos of me back during the early days of— well, of Harley Quinn. Just without the crime and insanity. She didn’t even realize that she was almost stalking the poor kid until I pointed it out, and luckily I was able to put my doctorate to good use and we nipped that right in the bud ASAP. She never meant it that way, anyway. As soon as I explained things to her, she was horrified and immediately asked me to help her learn how to have a healthy relationship. That was a fun discussion,” Harley grimaced. “But she still gets attached to people really, really easily. Once she grew out of her crush on that boy, she adopted him as her unofficial brother. She already calls Selina “Auntie,” even though I’ve barely mentioned her to Marinette. She gets attached fast, and deeply. And I’m afraid that even after all the warning I’ve done, all the stories I’ve told her—“

“You’re afraid she’ll get attached to Joker just like you did,” Bruce finished for her, closing his eyes. “Because she knows he’s her father.”

“Yes,” Tears were slowly dripping down her face already, her hands curled into fists so tightly that her knuckles were paper white. “You know how he is. If he finds out she’s his biological daughter, he’ll immediately try to take advantage of that. And he’s far too good with his words for people like me and Mari. I’m worried outta my mind. Please. Help keep my baby safe from him.”

“We will,” Jason no longer had his helmet on, or the domino mask that he usually wore underneath it. All of them knew masks were merely formality with Harley nowadays. And he needed to look her directly in the eye so she could see how serious he was. “I can sign up as a bodyguard for the class. It won’t be weird, seeing as they’re tourists and this is Gotham. They also have several rich kids in their group if I remember right.”

Bruce nodded, agreeing with Jason. “That’s a good idea. I can lead the class on their tours of WE personally. That’ll serve the purpose of keeping an eye on her and shutting up the investors that keep begging me to make more public appearances for the sake of the company. Marinette’s name is already released to the news as the winner of the contest, so we can’t keep her out of the spotlight long. Tim, you’ll have to keep an eye on any and all pictures of the class. Try to erase or doctor the images with her in it well enough that connections between her and Harley can’t be easily made. Dick, you and Damian will be in charge of keeping an eye out for any activity from Joker. The slightest hint, and you notify all of us. We’ll decide on a case-by-case basis who is necessary to stick with the class and who goes after the clown.”

“She’s gonna sneak out of her hotel to stay with me and Ivy,” Harley admitted, bringing the (now slightly judgemental) attention back to her. She raised her hands up in surrender. “She didn’t tell me that, and I didn’t approve or suggest it! I just know my baby too well to not realize that that’s her plan. Could ya provide an escort?”

Bruce sighed. “This is gonna be an eventful month.”

#maribat #ml x dc #mlb x dc #soulmate-game #bio!dad au #bio!mom harley quinn #bio!dad joker #maribat fanfic #maribat fic #platonic Harley x Marinette #platonic Ivy x Marinette #platonic brucinette

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luna-redamancy · 3 years

Text

Fix It (Thorin x F!Reader) 18+ NSFW Commission

Thank you @anjhope1 for the Ko-fi! Here is your ko-fi commission!

Note: The Thorin image as well as the divider is not mine. The Thorin image was originally posted by @thearkenstone-ck (I found it on pinterest, luckily the url is at the bottom right) and the dividers used are by @firefly-graphics which can be found Here

Warnings: Smut, angst, Thorin being an ass for a bit.

⚠️18+ Content ahead, Please read at your own risk ⚠️

It wasn’t unknown to you that braids have significance, in fact that was the first conversation you ever had with Thorin upon him asking for your approval to court you- how important and vital the braid was. How each placement of the strands of hair was significant, how by tilting the braiding outward you can declare a budding love, but inward you can declare a passing of something, such as a birthright.

‘Yet how did this happen?’ You mentally scolded yourself as you watched each passing dwarf look at you like you were a conundrum. You knew it had to have been your hair. It was Muhudtuzakhmerag, or Spring Fest, in Erebor and Thorin requested you wear a traditional ‘Queen’s Braid’ to the event to walk alongside him.

The request itself was simple, and sweet of him, to want you to participate like the queens before you, however, there was not a single portrait of what the said braids looked like. So you simply went by your best educated guess coupled with the old instructions written on ancient parchment that looked like it was going to fall apart any moment now.

The festival would begin with the giving of the straw. First, Thorin would place a strand of the straw into your hair, and you into his tunic pocket. This was to symbolize the true connection and reliance the dwarves had with nature. The next event was the ‘Carrying of the Straw’ where you and Thorin would lead a line of dwarves through the kingdom, assisting each other in carrying a barrow of straw to the feast room. All to honor Yavana, Mahal’s wife who originally gave the first dwarves their first straw of barley.

To say this event was huge for the dwarves would be an understatement. And, with this knowledge, you had hoped to look your best for Thorin.

As soon as you entered the throne room to meet with Thorin, Balin, and Dwalin before the event, you knew you messed up royally.

“(Y/n)...” Balin began gently, before Thorin’s angry voice startled you.

“What in Mahal have you done?” Thorin wasn’t shouting, but his fists were clenched like he was desperately trying not to.

“I tried my best to follow the instructions, is it that awful?” You looked at Balin and Dwalin, your eyebrows furrowed and your expression hurt at Thorin’s tone of voice. “What did I do wrong?” You asked the elderly dwarf, in hopes he would be able to give you advice before Thorin began speaking again.

“Everything.” He spat, shaking his head with a humorless chuckle as he began to pace the throne room floor.

“Lass,” Balin began before Thorin held his hand up, “Don’t speak to her.”

“The one time I request for you to do something specific and you can’t even get that right!” Thorin shouted, making you flinch as you stood back, your eyes beginning to fill with tears.

“I knew it was a mistake to ever court you, I never loved you to begin with.”

A gasp left your throat, “T-Thorin…” You felt your heart sink to your stomach. He regretted loving you, courting you, marrying you, all because of one braid?

“I can fix it,” You offered, your tone showing how close to the verge you were to breaking into tears, wanting to appease him so he wasn’t so angry with you.

“You can’t fix being human,” He huffed, “I knew a low human would never be able to meet the standards of being the queen of Erebor. If I could turn back time and never let you join this journey, I would---”

“Thorin, enough.” Dwalin all but growled at him. “It is just a braid, you can re-do it for her.” Dwalin tried to reason but Thorin let out a humorless chuckle. “You can re-do a braid, but you cannot redo or undo the damage that has been done. She has shown she does not care about our culture or our practices.”

Looking to Balin, you suppressed a sob as tears went down your cheeks. “I’m so sorry,” You told him, eyes full of regret and pain as you quickly took the pins holding the braid in place out, the metal clanging as it hit the stone floor.

“Lassie, it’s alright,” He began to soothe you but you shook your head.

“I’m so sorry,” You repeated shaking your head, exiting the room, with your hand up to your mouth to attempt to muffle the gasps leaving your throat as you continued to suppress the sobs threatening to escape.

“Thorin what have you done?!” Balin shouted at him as soon as you fled the room, glaring at the boy he watched grow up in these stone walls.

“Something I should have done a long time ago.”

“You will come to regret it. Don’t you realize you just told your wife that you despised her?”

“I don’t have time to deal with this, we have a festival to lead.” Thorin brushed past both of them to go grab his crown for the festivities.

As you put on a plain slip and slid into bed, you felt hot tears bubble down your face. He didn’t love you. All because you were human. Your heart ached as you heard the cheering, the Broken Bone Race being completed and the victor being given a medal, Thorin’s laugh trickling into your ears despite the many voices you have heard. That made you begin to sob as you clutched the pillow.

“He doesn’t love me…” You murmured to yourself, wiping your tears. “He wants a dwarrowdam.” You felt your heart clench as those words passed your lips.

Sitting up, you sniffled, wiping your eyes almost aggressively as you put on a robe. Maybe something in the library could help you with your love issues.

Thorin couldn’t deny the worry in his heart as he searched the halls of Erebor for you a few days later. Upon returning from the festivities, Thorin wasn’t too concerned with your absence, figuring you needed time alone from the blow-up that occurred in the throne room, but when it was the third day that he hadn’t seen you at any meals, your very presence and being missing from his day to day activities such as your walks together, he knew something was wrong.

His gut twisted as he walked down another corridor, before halting in his steps. “(Y/n)?” He breathed out, confused at the sight of you. You were dressed in the average dwarrowdam fashion, your hair up in braids like every other dwarrowdam he had come across.

It wasn’t you.

“Yes?” You cut straight to the point as you turned from your discussion with an advisor, and seeing Thorin’s dumbfounded expression, you excused the gentleman as you turned fully toward him. “What is it that you need, Thorin?” Your voice was cold, posture stiff as you stared him down with calculating eyes.

It was like you were a different person altogether.

“What happened to you?” Was all he could think to say.

Tilting your head, you raised a brow at him. “What you wanted.” Was all you answered as you turned on your heel, leaving him in the stone hallway all alone as you went to speak with the advisor once more.

Bursting through the doorway, Thorin’s voice caught the ears of the Company members fairly quickly.

“There’s something wrong with (Y/n)!” He yelled out, completely unsettled by your appearance. He knew you preferred your hair loose, not confined by things, and how you liked to wear flowy dresses made by soft fabrics, not thick dresses weighed down with crystals and braided fabric tassels.

“You finally noticed.” Dwalin scoffed, continuing to sharpen his blades, his disapproval of Thorin very clear.

“Aye, it wasn’t like she was missing from your chambers for three whole days and four whole nights.” Balin’s tone was clearly passive aggressive as he handed out documents to each member.

At Thorin’s lost expression, Balin chuckled bitterly.

“You told her you didn’t love her, that you despised her because she was human and what did you expect her to do!” Balin finally lost it, throwing his papers across the room, tears welling up in his eyes.

“She didn’t deserve that, Thorin!” Balin yelled, a tear going down his cheek. “All she wanted to do was make you happy and instead of applauding her effort and guiding her to the correct way, you belittled her! You ruined her self-esteem and told her she meant less than the dirt on your boots.”

“She didn’t deserve any of that… And now… Now you have the audacity to come in here like you did nothing wrong?”

“I didn’t realize…”

“You don’t seem to realize a lot of things, Thorin.” Balin huffed moving to pick up his papers as Fili, Kili, and Ori helped collect them from off the ground.

“I have to do something.”

Bofur shook his head, “If she’d let you.”

Thorin looked at him like he just grew two heads.

Rolling his eyes, Bofur shook his head again. “You were an utter arse, Thorin. You expect some weepy apology is going to make her forget everything you said? How little your actions have done to prove you do indeed care for her?”

“She’s lost weight, Thorin. She doesn’t come to meals, she hardly sleeps. And what do you notice? Oh, that she’s wearing a traditional dress.” Bofur’s sarcasm seeped through his tone.

“Y’know, Thorin, I hope she doesn’t forgive you. I hope she doesn’t let her sorry excuse of a One back into her life.” Bofur’s words cut into Thorin, hitting him where it hurts most. And for a moment, Thorin wasn’t Thorin son of Thrain, son of Thror, king of Erebor. In this moment he was a young dwarrow being scolded.

“But if you do somehow manage to weasel your way into her good graces, you better work your arse off to prove to her that you care for her.”

“I will.”

Bofur huffed through his nostrils as he went back to carving a wooden duck as if Thoin wasn’t even there.

“You better go find her, then.” Dwalin nodded to Thorin, a small smile on his face was all Thorin needed to feel encouraged as he set off to go find you.

Seeing Thorin for the first time in the past couple of days affected you more than you’d like to think, his harsh words being pulled from the back of your mind to the forefront, replaying in your head over and over. Instead of meeting with your advisor, you waited until Thorin was gone so you could go back to your room, the room you originally had before you and Thorin were wed.

Looking into the mirror, you couldn’t help but criticize everything about yourself. Your braids weren’t as taught as how they were this morning. The gown made you look radiant this morning but now it felt like a bulky mess that you shouldn’t have attempted to wear.

“Is it all for nothing?” You wondered as you stepped away from the vanity mirror and sat on the edge of the bed.

“He didn’t even notice.” You scoffed, flopping backwards.

The next morning, Thorin was adamant on approaching you.

“Good morning, Dushin-Mizim (dark jewel).”

“Morning, King Thorin.” Your reply was short as you walked past him, your hair half braided today, and in a less formal traditional dwarvish gown.

Thorin frowned, usually you’d kiss his cheek and say “Good morning, my love,” to him before he’d hold your hand and the two of you would walk together. Not that he blamed you for not doing so.

Instead of eating with him, you sat at the other end of the table, alone as you carefully ate your breakfast.

Sighing, Thorin brought the water glass up to his lips. ‘I deserve this,’ he thought as he watched the way the sunlight filtered through the sky-lights, making a rim of light circle the top of your hair, making you look angelic. An ache began to settle in his chest, he missed you.

He’s got to come up with a plan.

“How was your day, Ghivashel (Treasure of all treasures)?” Thorin attempted to make conversation as you approached after exiting a meeting.

“Perfectly fine, King Thorin.” You responded icily as you walked past him, your face stoic until you moved where he couldn’t see your face. Your eyebrows were furrowed and you bit your lip. ‘Does he love me still?’ you pondered, but that thought was quickly squashed when you realized he began to act lovingly again once you were in dwarvish attire. ‘He loves the facade.’ you decided as you walked to your room.

Looking in the mirror, you shook your head. “This isn’t me.” You murmured to yourself, while you had nothing against dwarrowdams, you knew this style of dress, this hairdo, it wasn’t yours. It didn’t suit you. You felt like a wolf in sheep's clothing, an imitator waiting to be revealed.

Unravelling your hair, you sighed as your scalp was relieved of the taught pressure. Reaching behind you to unravel the laces of your bodice, you let out a relieved groan as you pulled the thick fabric off of you in favor of pulling on a light night gown.

Returning to the mirror you brushed your hair, refreshed to see it how it usually is. Free and relaxed.

“I’m done pretending... “ You told yourself, nodding to your reflection. “I am (Y/n), a human.. Not a Dwarrowdam.” You felt tears build in your eyes, “and if Thorin wants one so bad, then so be it, but I will not erase myself for his pleasure.”

The next morning you felt alive again, as if someone had cleaned out the cobwebs of your chimney and lit the fire once more. Putting on a loose gown, you only brushed your hair, carefully placing oils where they were needed before looking in the mirror. You finally looked like yourself again.

“Good morning, amrâlimê (My love).” Thorin called out to you as you exited your bedding chambers, making you pause in your stride.

“Good morning, King Thorin.” You responded blandly, watching as he analyzed you, your expression cool but your heart hammering inside of your chest. Would he say anything? Would he stop calling you the names you cherish close to your heart?

“You look radiant,” He smiled at you, before letting it drop, his expression turning serious. “I would like to have a talk with you, today, whenever you have time, of course.” He looked nervous as he spoke, something you hadn’t seen since the day he asked to put in your courting braid.

“I’ll be free this evening,” You told him, curious as to what he needed to tell you.

You could practically see the cogs turning in his head as he nodded, like he was having an inner conversation before looking into your eyes.

“Would you… Do me the honor of meeting me in the gardens this evening?” Thorin held his hands behind his back, nervously rubbing his thumb over the other one, just waiting for you to say no. After all, he had to earn your trust again, to earn your love again.

You paused, a ‘no’ quick to push itself to the tip of your tongue, but as you watched his eyes dart around your face, his eyebrow scrunched like how it always does when he’s worried, you felt your face soften.

“I shall.” You chose to say instead, a smile threatening to lift your cheeks as he perked up like a puppy, a spark returning to his eye.

“You won’t regret it, I promise.” He vowed, hesitating, like he was ready to give you a kiss before physically holding himself back.

Coughing nervously, he nodded, “I will see you then.”

You couldn’t deny the disappointment that bubbled in your chest as he walked away, you had hoped he would offer to walk you to breakfast.

“Well with how you’re acting, don’t be surprised if he thinks you hate him now.” Your inner voice taunted but you shook your head, you had every right to be upset with him.

The day seemed to drag on and on, and as you dragged your feet to the dining hall after your final meeting, you remembered Thorin had wanted to see you.

“The gardens,” You hummed to yourself as you headed that way, seeing petals of (favorite flower) being littered on the ground. Raising a brow, you followed them, a small smile growing on your face as you approached the entrance to the gardens.

Thorin stood staring at the stars, his back turned and between you and him sat a table. Two plates, two chairs, two water glasses.

“So your discussion was a date?” Your voice pulled Thorin from his thoughts, his head quickly swinging to face you.

“Not exactly, no.” Thorin spoke quickly, as if your words scalded him like a hot pan.

“If you do not wish to stay for the meal then I will not ask you to.” He began, gesturing to the seat. “But I will ask if you’d like to take a seat so you can be comfortable while we talk?”

Biting your lip, you let out a breath before chucking off your heels, your feet sinking into the cool grass as you approached the table.

Thorin sighed in relief, believing you were going to turn your back and leave the minute he opened his mouth.

“What is it you wished to talk about?” You questioned, your voice professional as you took a look around the gardens. Lanterns were placed all around the garden, giving the space an ethereal glow and if you listened hard enough you’d hear the gentle noises of the creek.

“I would like to apologise.” Thorin stated, and the statement alone nearly made you choke on your saliva. Thorin? Apologizing?

“I… I have no reason, excuse or otherwise to explain to you why I spoke the way I did.” He furrowed his brows. “I am a horrible excuse for a husband, a failure of a One, and a failure as your friend.” Thorin spoke, his voice close to cracking before he cleared his throat.

You frowned, not expecting this at all, especially the glassy look in his eyes.

“I wanted to let you know I did not mean a thing I said.”

“I knew it was a mistake to ever court you, I never loved you to begin with.” His words replayed in your head, your lip beginning to tremble.

“Meeting you was the biggest blessing Mahal has ever given me, being able to love you and to cherish you was a gift I threw away,” Thorin’s voice finally cracked, as he let out a shaky sigh.

“Menu tessu (You mean everything to me) and I was a fool to tell you otherwise.” He shook his head, angry at himself.

“I love you, (Y/n), I love the way you take the blankets from me when we’re sleeping, I love the way your eyes sparkle when you’re happy, I love the way you care so much for people you love…” Thorin halted himself, looking up to the sky briefly before looking back to you.

“But despite all of that, I have wronged you, I have wronged you and belittled you,” He frowned at the sight of your tears building in your eyes.

“And I understand if you would like to leave.”

“Leave?” You couldn’t help but echo, causing him to nod.

“After all I have done, I cannot expect you to want to stay with me, Men Kurdel (My heart of hearts). I made you feel inadequate, when I should be the one making you feel like a goddess. I failed you.” Tears slipped down Thorin’s cheeks.

“That is what I wanted to discuss with you, a way to make your life easier, a way to just---” He sighed, “If there is one thing I want, (Y/n), it is to make you happy.”

“And you think that’s away from you?” You cut him off, furrowing your brows as a tear slipped out, rolling down your face and dripping off your chin.

“I have spent days trying to make myself more like a dwarrowdam because you hate how human I am, because I want---” Your own sob cut you off, your breath hitching as you began to cry harder.

“Because I wanted you to love me again.” Your voice cracked as you barely got out the words, and at the same time, Thorin’s heart felt like it cracked in half as he watched you emotionally collapse in front of him.

Thorin nearly leapt from his chair, moving to cradle you in his arms, yet unsure as he hovered his form close to yours.

“Please, love me again,” You whimpered as Thorin pulled you into his arms, tucking your head into his neck as you sobbed.

“I never stopped loving you, (Y/n),” He murmured into your ear, his arms tightening their hold on you as if this was all a dream. “I am so sorry,” Thorin wept as you clutched onto him just as tight.

You missed him so much.

“I will spend the rest of my life making this up to you,” He vowed, pulling away so he could look at you, tears springing to his eyes again at the look of anguish on your face.

“Just please, come back to me, come back to our chambers, let me hold you, at least for just this night?” Thorin’s tone was on the edge of begging as he cradled your face in his palm, his forehead against yours.

Not being able to find the words, you nodded. And at that moment, he pulled you off the chair entirely, your form clinging to his as he brought you back to your shared chambers.

Setting you down on the bed, Thorin pulled away to go to your wardrobe.

“What’re you doing?” You tearfully asked, a whimper wanting to pull itself from your mouth at the lack of contact.

“Your nightgown--”

“Thorin, please hold me.” His priority was your comfortableness while yours was to be as close as possible to him. Quickly shutting the wardrobe doors, Thorin returned to the bed, barely able to kneel on it before you latched yourself onto him again.

Hugging him close, you could feel his heartbeat through his tunic. A sigh of relief left you before you looked up to him, seeing him already watching you with admiration and fear. Fear of you changing your mind and walking out of his life for good.

“Kiss me, please?” You asked tilting your head back to make it easier for him to attach his lips to yours. Thorin’s expression softened as he captured your lips with his own. A needy whimper left your lips as you clutched his tunic in your hands, his own cupping your face as he kissed you deeply.

Pulling away, Thorin pecked your lips one last time before pressing his forehead against yours.

“Thorin, I need you.” You murmured, you had been deprived of his touch, of his love, for so long now.

“I’m yours, I’m here,” He responded to you, not quite understanding your meaning, simply thinking you needed reassurance until you repeated yourself.

“I need you, Thorin.”

His expression changed from one of concern to something sensual as he dragged his thumb across your cheek.

“Are you sure?” He couldn’t help but question, not wanting you to regret being with him when you were so emotionally fragile.

“Absolutely.” You reassured, this time capturing his lips with yours, catching him off guard before he quickly fell into the rhythm you were searching for.

Lowering you gently on your back, you felt the familiar pillows beneath you as you arched into him, your hips rolling into his causing a pleased groan to release from his lips, his hands finding your butt as he controlled your movement against his clothed crotch.

“More, Thorin, please,” Your tone was leaning on the side of begging as he severed the kiss to pepper kisses along your jaw and neck.

“I’ll give you all you want, amrâlimê,” He reassured, lifting off of you to help you with your dress, the offending fabric being tossed to the floor before he yanked off his tunic, leaving him bare chested with you in your undergarments.

“Beautiful,” Thorin murmured, admiring the way your body was laid beneath him.

Smiling at him, you couldn’t help but admire him as well, the small scars from battles that have come and gone, the chest hair mostly covering him, the muscles beneath it.

You were brought out of your admiring state as he began to remove your undergarments, leaving you bare with him still in his pants.

“You’re very overdressed,” You hummed as he chuckled, the sound going straight to your core as he leaned back over you to kiss at your shoulders and the valley of your breasts.

“Don’t worry about me, amrâlimê, focus on you.” He spoke softly as he kissed his way down your stomach, his hands coming up to tease your nipples for a moment, drawing a gasp from you. It served as a distraction as he skipped over your pussy to mouth at your thighs.

“Thorin,” You couldn’t help but groan out as he purposefully neglected where you wanted him most.

“Please,” You whined until you felt his breath over your pussy.

“I said to focus on you, (Y/n),” He hummed, now massaging your inner thighs with his calloused hands. Before you could think of a response, his tongue stole the words out of your mouth as it came in contact with you. Licking, flicking, sucking, you couldn’t focus on what he was doing as the pleasure made you reach out and grab at his hair.

Thorin swore he would make it up to you, and he planned to start right now through worshipping your body, making you feel every ounce of pleasure he could provide you.

Looping his arms under your thighs, he held his hands above your hips, locking you in place as he feasted on you.

“Thorin!” You couldn’t help but moan out, your tone high pitched as you felt yourself climbing higher and higher to your peak. Whether you called his name out of lust or trying to give warning, Thorin wasn’t sure, but he knew one thing for certain: you were close.

He flicked his tongue over your clit rapidly, circling it before suckling the bundle of nerves into his mouth, his cheeks hollowing as he aggressively accelerated you to your climax.

Your back arched as your grip on his hair tightened, your mouth opening in a silent moan as your hips wiggled up and down, his own grip loosening as he let you ride out your orgasm. Releasing your clit from his mouth, he kissed your inner thigh as you slowly calmed down.

“Men lananubukhs (I love you),” Thorin whispered as he rested his head on your opposite thigh, rubbing circles on your hips.

“What about you?” You questioned once you got your bearings again.

Thorin shook his head, pressing another kiss to your inner thigh before crawling up to pull you into his embrace. “All I care about is that you are satisfied, my beloved.” He nuzzled the top of your head, feeling a sense of pride as your thighs continued to tremble from the intensity of your orgasm.

“I told you before, all I want is to make you happy.”

It felt like flowers were blooming in your ribcage, something soft and delicate taking place in your heart as you curled into Thorin’s embrace, his arm around the small of your waist bringing a sense of comfort.

While nothing could erase the past, nor the heart that came with it, you’ve decided that for now, you would enjoy the peace that resonated in your heart.

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blzzrdstryr · 3 years

Text

By proxy

Platonic yandere!Kaeya & child!gn!reader

Wordcount: 2195

A.N.: My first time writing platonic yanderes, hope you'll enjoy.

It's an impulsive decision for the most part - taking you, that is.

Kaeya trudges through the Wolfendom forest, a couple of his underlings, Addler and Otto, following behind as they trail a group of treasure hoarders. Criminal gang must have known that knights are on their tail, there's no other explanation for their sudden fleeing, leaving an already broken camp behind and taking only the most valuable possessions.

It's raining and he silently curses, even if this will give him advantage in battle, but archons, it's so cold. Huge droplets fall on the ground with a resounding sound, drenching everything and turning the forest landscape deep into nigh impassable terrain. Mud clings to their feet, slowing the group down, as the Sun starts to set. Sky turns all shades of purple and red, dimming light throwing the last rays over the Mondstadt as the darkness settles, yet Kaeya and his group still carry forward through the palisade of tall trees.

“Sir”, Otto carefully starts: “It seems that criminals are already several miles away from us”.

Kaeya nods for the knight to continue, already knowing that it will be an ask to stop - the weather is hellish and the rain is one of the heaviest Kaeya has ever had to experience.

“With how strong this rainfall is, the gang's traces will be gone in under an hour”

"All the more reasons to push on and catch them then", Alberich replies, paying zero attention to Adler's slight trembling or Otto's teeth chattering. The group continues on their path through descending darkness, their footsteps hasting despite the clinging and growing fatigue.

Suddenly, as the knights make their way around the cliff, a slight whimper is heard. It's human enough to stop the group - maybe some unlucky civilian got in the way of the gang, maybe criminals left their injured one. Kaeya just nods to the pair, as Otto and Adler unsheathe their weapons, wordlessly understanding the gesture.

Cavalry captain takes a step into the forest pit with a raised sword, all sight and ears, light blue vision on his belt shining and flickering both in caution and anticipation. He walks slowly and quietly, like a cat, careful not to step on the leaves and twigs lying around, and then he sees you.

You are a child, all thin and small in the way that the sick are. There are dark circles under your tired eyes, and the scrapes all over your body. You look already dead. He runs up to you, as he sees your figure swaying and knees buckling, saving you from the fall. Your skin burns Kaeya as he carries you back to the knights - it must be fever then. You blink at him several times, saying something, but your voice is too small and weak to make out anything among the droplets falling, and then you stop, eyes rolling back and head lolling to the side. You blacked out.

He thinks about handing your body to either of the knights and then continuing to run after the gang into the knight, but then decides against it - heavy rain must have blurred all the footsteps they left. Adler almost fails. You escape your delirium a couple of times, babbling words about forest and rain and wolves, and Kaeya, despite his focus on the trail ahead, can't help but listen to what you say. It's childish nonsense for the most part, an incomprehensible product of the feverish mind, yet sometimes you say meaningful things - I thought I would die, I got scared of wolf howls, The rain was so cold.

Some small part of him shrinks and aches at these words, a long buried hurt resurfacing once again. Kaeya frowns and huffs as he tries to get rid of the images of the days long gone in his mind - rainy night, hunger, pain, cold, he will die here. His lips quirk and a humorless laugh escapes him - the irony is painful.

He drops you off at the church, concerned Barbara taking you to the hospital and Kaeya, after a brief report to Jean, goes home, his mind still stuck on the memories of days long past. You will be fine, he tells himself, the church has good healers and the orphanage is nearby. Once you get better, you’ll get sent there, where devoted nuns will raise to be another disciple.

You had a look of a deadman - a strange catatonic serenity was radiating off of you, as you looked at the captain with a glazed yet piercing eyes, both seeing him and through him. It’s cold, so cold, yet no one is here. There are hot tears on his face, wet tracks burning his skin. His tummy is empty and aching, cold bites at his limbs, but Kaeya patiently waits for the adult to return. Father said that Kaeya was their last hope, so sure he would never leave him to die, right?

Cavalry captain barely sleeps through the night, memories and inner demons eating him from inside. When he does manage to doze off, a vague picture of darkening forests and howling winds wake him up, a fervent chanting buzzing in his head - Where is his father? Where is his father? Where is his father?.

Kaeya comes to you the next day, as his shift ends, legs heading to the towering church at the top on their own. Barbara leads him to your bed, your unconscious form lying limply. Idol explains your health issues to him - fever, malnutrition, inflammation, common cold and slight poisoning. The scratches you had yesterday were healed, Barbara says, but the rest of the problems can't be easily fixed with a bit of a hydro.

"Then, what medicines do they need?", Kaeya asks, understanding the unspoken words. The Church of Favonius, despite the large funding it receives from the city's treasury, still lacks a lot of resources and materials. People are free to come and get cured, without having a single mora to pay, which means that most of the remedies disappear at an alarming rate - be it some herbal balm for aching joints or a simple linen bandage.

The idol rustles in the hidden pockets of her dress, taking out a pencil and sheet of paper and begins to write, the list grows as Kaeya’s eyebrows get higher and higher. There are dried Liyuen herbs, exotic Sumeru fruits, specially treated Snezhnayan and Fontaine tinctures and medicines.

Kaeya is taken aback for a second by the sheer length of the final list - most of the items will have to be ordered and shipped and despite his salary of the captain allowing such expenses, it’s still strange to spend so much mora - a complete stranger. Captain contemplates just leaving you there - nuns will take care of you, but the hurt resurfaces again and he sees another person lying on the small hospital bed - little him, scared and confused.

He ends up buying all the listed things, and despite his efforts not to, continues to regularly check up on you when he has time. Sometimes, Barbara says, you wake up from your slumber, enough to utter some confused noises and questions, but then you drowse off again, both sickness and medicine pulling you back to sleep.

Kaeya, to his displeasure, never catches you conscious in time, until he comes one evening, expecting to spend the time looking at you sleeping again only to see you half sitting on the bed. Your posture gets straight the second you notice him too, an expression of confusion and fear appearing on your face.

"Hello", Kaeya starts, slowly walking up towards you, keeping his posture small and voice as friendly as possible:"I am that knight who carried you here, remember?", he explains, seeing the further abashment on you face.

You nod at him, prompting him to continue:"So, I just decided to visit you to ask you how you got in the forest and why were you alone"

"Sister Barbara said that you came here almost everyday," you reply, voice absolutely flat and face having no expression. Kaeya looks at you briefly - it’s rare for children to speak in such a cold manner, you must have something on your mind then.

"Yes, I did" , he says in the same friendly tone.

"Just to know why I was in the forest?" , your voice betrays you, a hint of hurt seeping into it. Ah, that’s why you asked.

"Hm, of course no! I also wanted to see you get better" , he smiles at the end, leaning a bit closer to you. You mull over his words, thinking of their sincerity, and then a later second you say, with much less caution and guard up:

"Well I am better now and…" you get silent for a good minute:"I don't remember why I was there. I think it's because of the fever". Your voice becomes strangely controlled again - you lie to Kaeya, you didn’t forget anything. A part of cavalry captain swells and purrs, recognizing himself in you,

"Do you want to live with me?". He asks instead of trying to get the truth out of you. Your eyes shine and a surprised noise comes out of your mouth at his suggestion - something between a squeak and high pitched yelp.

His apartment isn't the best place to bring the child in - there are far too many bottles and not enough food - Kaeya lives off the takeout from the Good hunter and the skewers he grills when missions call him to leave the city walls. Nonetheless, you don’t look too disgusted with his living conditions, so he considers it a win, as he heads for the tiny kitchen to make you a soup.

It turns out a bit burnt in the end - Kaeya added too much wood to the stove, but you still gulp it down, not leaving anything and thank him for the meal. He makes a mental note to buy you a bed - right now you’re sleeping on a small couch, and clothes to change.

You are a quiet child, too fast to apologize for the smallest mistakes and wary of him when he’s in a foul mood - it gives Kaeya an idea why you were in the woods. Your days together flow slowly and steady with Kaeya falling into routine - he wakes up, makes a breakfast for the both of you, you eat it, as you shyly tell him about your newest interest or finding - a drawing, a strange bug, a shiny rock of unusual colour, then he leaves for work, instructing you to go to the neighbours if you have issues, and leaving a premade dinner for you. Then he comes back, now listening to you talking about your day - you were drawing again, or you played with the other kids, or you were running and catching the butterflies, the now dead insects left for him to look at.

It’s a mundane life, something that Kaeya thought will never please him. There is a large pit inside of him - it was growing and festering with years - Khaenri’ah, father, Diluc, Crepus, that fight. It’s ugly and snarling and thoroughly scorched, a part of his soul that keeps him awake and anxious and angry and sad during bad nights. The pit quiets a bit when Kaeya takes care of you - toys, foods, games, the same way he wishes he was treated as a child.

Crepus Ragnvindr was a nice person, he took Kaeya in, clothed and fed and kept him safe for years, yet there was always an invisible line that separated Khaenri'ahn from Diluc - warmer voice, higher expectations, more praise. Kaeya doubts Crepus noticed this truly tiny gap in treatment, Diluc for sure didn’t. Alberich did his best to ignore it, yet he couldn’t, this difference nagged him at the back of his mind, alienating him in the newfound home.

That must be why he does his best to spoil you - it's new toys and furniture and evening walks around the Mondstadt with you on his shoulders. Soon, a new rumour starts to travel around Mondstadt - about a stray being picked up by another stray. Amber seemingly forgives him for the incident with Collei, Jean gives him a raise the same month, for child expenses, she succinctly says, Albedo off handedly mentions Klee and her desire for friendships, even Lisa gives him a couple of fairytale books, warning him what will happen if he will be late to return them beforehand. Diluc doesn't comment on the irony the next time they happen to meet, but he sees some Dawn Winery workers looking after you, when he is busy with Favonius stuff.

Kaeya, for the first time in years, feels truly happy. He has family again - you and him this time and he's willing to smother you with affections. He buys you things he wishes he had, and teaches you the skills he thinks will help you in life - how to fight, how to lie, how to kill someone with words alone.

It's a strange love he has for you - never seeing you as you - but it's genuine and all encompassing. Kaeya doesn't want little him to suffer again.

#yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin #Yandere kaeya #Platonic yandere #Yandere #my writing

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