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imagines--galore · 2 months

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||The Thread of Fate|| Part Eleven

Summary: Soulmate AU. They say the Thread of Fate connects you to your one true love. It may tangle. It may stretch. But it will never break. Wrapped around your little finger it tightens when it feels your soulmate is close and loosens when they are far. And becomes visible with the colors of your soulmate’s Nation when you finally fall in love with them.

Pairing: Zuko x OroraOC (ATLA)

Rating || Genres || Warnings: T+ Romance. Adventure.

Previous Chapters - Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten,

A/N: Omg I had such a HUGE influx of readers for this story, and I am grateful to each and every one of you for reading my story! I hope you guys enjoy this chapter and all the others I will be writing in the future.

Working at the tea shop was Orora's first time at a job. She was just as green to it as Zuko was. However, she did not voice her disgust at the notion every few seconds. She was eager to learn, and ready to earn her living. As much as she appreciated the money Iroh had given her, she wanted to contribute to their financial situation as well.

The first day had been busy. There had been the different types of teas she had to learn to brew, other then the ones she already knew thanks to her Master. Then there were dishes to wash almost constantly. Not a lot of customers had come in that day, Pao having closed the shop early to allow his new employees to get to know their work place, so it hadn't been as tiring as she had thought it would be.

What Orora found she liked to do, was wash the dishes. She got to play with water and bubbles, and it helped calm her. Strange, she knew, but after so many days of being on the run, doing something as simple as washing dishes was oddly calming. Not to mention the job allowed her mind to roam and ponder over things she had not allowed herself to for quite some time now.

As she set aside one of the more expensive looking cups, the young waterbender sighed softly through her nose.

So far the truce she had offered Zuko seemed to be working. Though it had only been a few hours since it had been put into effect. And they'd only managed to snap at each other twice. True after the second time Iroh had seen the wisdom in separating them by giving them jobs to do at different ends of the shop. Zuko worked the front, taking orders and such, while Orora washed the dishes in the back.

Picking up a plate and dunking it in the soapy water, Orora continued to let her thoughts wander and ask the questions she wished she could say out loud.

Such as why were Zuko and Iroh fugitives of the Fire Nation? They were royalty, surely the Fire Lord would want his brother and son back. And did Zuko's sister truly want to kill her own Uncle? That thought sent a shiver down her spine. But what about their mother? Didn't she have a say in all of this? Was she treated just like Orora's mother was treated?

She had so many questions, and more, and all she wanted to do was march right up to Zuko and demand that he answer them.

But something held her back.

Maybe because she was a polite person who didn't go about poking her nose in other people's business.

Or perhaps, more likely, she had no desire to cause Zuko any pain by talking about his past. It was surely a sore subject, from the bits and pieces of information she had collected over the months. Besides, he already had his hands full trying to adjust to living in Ba Sing Se. Orora just wished he would figure himself out faster so she could ask all her questions.

Oh, she could ask Iroh if she wanted to, and her would probably answer, but for some insane reason, she wanted the answers to come from Zuko himself.

Spirit help her but she felt it was the right thing since it was his story.

Memories of every encounter she had ever had with the young prince rose unbidden, yet not unwelcome in her mind, as she started to play with the water not having any more dishes to wash.

It was strange, how someone she had not even known a few months ago was now at the very center of her life. He wasn't all that she thought about, really this was the first time she was allowing herself to think of him to such an extent. Usually she had other things to think about. Such as surviving, learning from her Master, perfecting her water bending techniques, inventing new ways to incorporate ice into her fighting, improving on her combat skills, restocking her medicinal herbs, making sure she didn't loose touch with her healing side, because as much as she liked to put her waterbending skills to use by fighting, she knew healing was a major part of who she was.

All those thoughts were pushed to the back of her mind, as she focused on a pair of golden eyes that seemed to watch her wherever she went, watching her every step. At first she had thought, it was perhaps because he didn't trust her. But slowly, that mistrust in his eyes had faded. Now, when she would catch him looking at her, he would look away.

Then again, who was she to complain. She looked at him and had been caught looking at him by him on multiple occasion.

Her fingers continued to twirl, her gaze listless as she created pretty patterns in the water.

She thought of the night when they had first met, officially at least. When he had tried to rob her. She could still recall every detail with a clarity that surprised even her.

She contemplated on their little sparring session and the conversation after it, how she had encouraged him to find something to live for, to fight for.

She recalled how shocked she had been when she realized his true identity. A prince. An honest to goodness prince. One who couldn't stand her, and who she couldn't stand either.

At least, she thought that was the case.

Her mind conjured the moment where she had first touched his scar. How vulnerable he had looked, and yet he had trusted her enough to not push her away. The way he had protected her when they were at the Oasis. The conversation they had shared while bathing. That one brought a fierce blush to her cheeks. And despite her best effort to move on to the next one, she found the blush only intensifying as she remembered the moment they had shared on the mountain.

Where they had acknowledged that they were soulmates. Where he had gripped her wrist, so desperately and yet so soft. Where she had wandered how his lips would feel against her own. And she was sure he had been thinking the same.

After all, hadn't he leaned forward slightly before the elements of nature had tread on their moment?

So lost in her thoughts, that she didn't even sense as someone else entered her work area and stood next to her. Watching her.

"Uncle says its time to go now."

The voice jolted her out of her thoughts, scaring her so much that she jumped where she stood. Her bending reacted out of instinct, mirroring her startled emotion as her hand shot a splash of water on the figure standing next to her.

"Spirits! You startled me!" She panted, resting a hand above her heart. Zuko glowered at her in return, water dripping from his hair and onto his shoulders. The girl winced, pursing her lips to hide a smile, though it still escaped. She couldn't help it, he just looked utterly ridiculous.

At his warning growl, she couldn't help but giggle. A strange sound since it hardly ever came from her. "Sorry, here." Quickly bending the water, she threw it back into the sink and gave him an apologetic smile. His glare did not let up.

"We're done here for the day. Lets go." He grumbled, before making for the door. She rolled her eyes. Clearly he wasn't too pleased with her little reaction. As he stomped off, she called after him, removing her apron as she went. "I said I was sorry!"

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Their new home was a small apartment, just big enough for the three of them. As soon as they returned, Orora quickly settled in the middle of the room, wanting to get in an hour of meditation before bed. She crossed her legs, closed her eyes, folded her hands in her lap and evened out her breathing.

Which left Iroh to brew some more tea for them, and for Zuko to lay on the sofa, hands tucked behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling, his mind going over the day's event.

A job. For once in his life, he was actually working for a living. The notion had seemed strange at first, not to mention he had felt that it was beneath him, but what Orora had said was true. They did need jobs if they were to survive in this city.

Reluctantly, his gaze flickered to the water tribe girl as she sat meditating peacefully, oblivious to the effect she had had on him.

Him. Prince of the Fire Nation. Being effected by the words of a commoner.

Or rather, he was being effected by the words of a girl who was his soulmate.

Letting out a silent groan, his hand came up to press the back of his hand against his eyes, as if to physically stop him from staring too long at her. It was starting to get pathetic, just how much he would want her opinion on things.

He wouldn't go so far as to say he wanted her to approve of him, but it was pleasant to have someone else beside his Uncle give him a little wisdom. He spoke of life in riddles and words that were heavy with emotion.

Orora?

She would give it straight to his face. No regard of his feelings, his stand on whatever topic it was. She would just come out and say it.

And he appreciated her for that.

True he never always liked what she said, but sometimes they were the exact words he needed to hear.

Like the talk they had had after their impromptu battle near that lake. He still hadn't found something to live for, or to fight for, but at least he knew that he was looking for something.

Not to mention the fact that he would be ever grateful to her for saving Uncle's life. He would never say it outright, but in that moment he had been so so scared and she had stepped up and healed Iroh. Even after getting to know who they were and the lies she had been led to believe for so long.

And how she had probably saved him that stormy night on the mountain. A moment of weakness on his part, letting his emotions get the best of him, but she'd been there. She'd been where he needed her to be, and had not held back when telling him off for being so reckless.

He had to stop his thoughts there, not wanting to dwell too much on what would've happened if that moment in the rain had gone on any longer.

And then there was the truce. To live together somewhat harmoniously.

Lifting his hand, he looked at her again, watching her face. She looked so calm in that moment, as opposed to the plethora of emotions that always played about her features. Zuko found he was beginning to think of it as a game. A game where he would try to guess what she would feel next, and whether it would effect him in some way.

So far, almost every emotion she felt was directed at him, and though he would never ever admit it out loud, he kind of liked having her attention be on him rather then anything else.

Huffing to himself, as if disgusted with his own thoughts, he rose to his feet, moving to the pantry to see what he could have for dinner.

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"Orora, my dear." Glancing up from where she had been counting the money of the customer who had just paid, the young waterbender gave Iroh a nod. "Yes Master?"

"We seem to have run out of Jasmine. I have asked Pao and he says to take some money from the till and buy some Jasmine tea from the shop just down the street."

Taking the money, Orora quickly nodded, before rushing to the back of the shop where Zuko was on dish washing duty. Seeing her taking off her apron, he frowned. "Where're you going?"

Straightening her clothes, the girl replied. "Ran out of Jasmine, just going to buy some." She had barely made it to the door when Zuko called out. "Wait, I'm supposed to go with you when you go out into the city."

Orora glanced over her shoulder, rolling her eyes slightly. "Relax Your Highness. Its only a five minute walk, nothing is going to happen to me." She opened the door, moving to step outside, but then she paused.

"Although, it is sweet of you to worry about me." She glanced over at him, a smile on her lips as she caught sight of the obvious flush on his cheeks as he looked at anything but her. "I'll be back soon." She said as a way of promise, before she was out of the tea shop.

It was a five minute walk, and once the goods were secured, the girl began to make her way back to the shop, her heart still warm at the prospect of Zuko actually worrying about her.

Her happy thoughts, however, were interrupted rather rudely when a hard hand grabbed her shoulder, yanking her into a dark alley, covering her mouth with a rough hand.

The instant she felt the unfamiliar hands, she began to struggle and push with all her strength, trying to get away.

"Stop moving!" A voice hissed, a very familiar voice.

Her eyes focused in the dark, and she was able to make out the face of the boy they had met on the way to Ba Sing Se.

The Freedom Fighter, Jet.

Her pale blue eyes narrowed, and a look akin to a cold anger burned in the gaze she fixed him with. "Look I just want to talk, that's all." He said, still not letting up from where he had his hand on her mouth.

She continued to glare at him, even after he had removed his hand, though his other kept an almost painful grip on her wrist. "I'm trying to help you. You're a waterbender, there's no way you would be with those firebenders of your own free will, so they must be keeping you prisoner somehow."

He knows, a voice hissed in her mind, prompting her heart to beat faster in her chest, and an ugly feeling of fear to coil in her stomach. But she didn't let it show.

Instead, she remained the epitome of disgust and anger. "What in the world are you talking about?"

There seemed to be an almost manic look in his eyes, accompanied by impatience, as he dropped her hand, and grabbed her shoulders. "You don't have to lie for them. I'm trying to help you. I just need evidence and then we can end those two firebenders."

End?! Spirits! He wanted to kill Iroh and Zuko.

Shrugging out of his grasp, Orora stepped away, fingers pulling the cork of her water satchel in case she needed to defend herself. "You're out of your mind." She growled at him. Despite the terror she felt at hearing his statement, her instinct to protect her two companions was far potent, which was the reason she was even able to face the boy with murder in his eyes.

"Just admit the truth! They're firebenders! And they deserve to die." He was starting to get frustrated with her. "I don't care what you say, I will find some way to expose them, and when I do, I'll have the pleasure of executing them."

Hearing those words, hearing the tone in his voice, the sheer hatred and anger in his eyes. Something in her snapped.

With a fierce cry she threw her arm out, the movement elegant yet deadly, given that Jet found himself staring at the very sharp ends of multiple icicles that she pointed in his direction.

"This is your first and last warning." She hissed, her voice full of warning. "If you come near them, if you so much as harm a single hair on their head, I will personally see to it that you pay for it." She fixed him with a cold stare. "In blood."

So saying, she turned her back to him, leaving him trapped behind her icicles. They would melt soon enough, though the words Jet called after her as she walked away, echoed in her ears all the way back to the tea shop.

"You would threaten someone who's on your side. You're willing to protect the enemy?! You're a traitor to your own people. A disgrace! You're just like them! A killer!"

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As soon as she reached the back door of the tea shop, Orora leaned up against the wooden door. Her heart was beating so fast, she was afraid it would somehow burst out of her chest. A stinging sensation behind her eyes told her she was close to tears. Lifting a trembling hand, she pressed it to face, willing herself to calm down.

She had to warn Zuko and Iroh, make sure they were on guard. She couldn't let anything happen to them. They were her friends. She cared about them. Both of them.

Somehow, she managed to calm herself down, slightly, and entered the shop. It had taken her a good fifteen minute to calm down. Grabbing her apron, she tied it behind her in a haphazard manner before rushing out to the front of the shop.

There was Iroh, pouring tea for a customer, with Zuko picking up cups left behind by a previous customer. She all but stumbled forward, catching Zuko's hand, prompting him to look at her, confused and slightly alarmed at her obvious panicked state.

"Orora? Wha-"

But she didn't let him finish. "He knows." She whispered, aware of the other customers around her. "Jet knows." The words were spoken so softly that no one else could ever hear them, and yet Zuko did. Loud and clear.

However, before either of them could talk further on what she had revealed, the door of the shop slammed open and Jet himself walked in. A strangled gasp left her lips, as she caught sight of that murderous look in his eyes once more.

"I'm tired of waiting!" He pointed an accusing finger at both Iroh and Zuko. "These two men are firebenders! And that girl is helping them. She's a traitor!"

Immediately, Zuko pushed Orora behind him, gripping one of her hands to make sure she stayed there. Uncle and nephew exchanged a look which seemed to mirror what the other was thinking.

Play dumb.

"I know they're firebenders, I saw the old man heating his tea!" Jet continued, advancing towards the trio with his hooked swords out of their sheaths. "He works in a tea shop." A nearby customer stated in a rather confused voice, but Jet wasn't having it. "He's a firebender! I'm telling you!"

The same customer stood. "Drop your swords, boy. Nice and easy." Jet ignored him, his gaze never leaving Zuko's as he began to advance towards him and Orora. "You'll have to defend yourself. Then everyone will know. Go ahead, show them what you can do." His gaze flickered to Orora who, previous fear forgotten to be replaced by a burning anger, glared back at him. "Or would you rather have your girlfriend get hurt defending you."

She felt his grip on her hand tighten to an almost painful level. "Zuko, no! He's goading you!" She whispered, even as the previous customer moved to step forward, ready to unsheathe his sword. Zuko simply glanced at her. Her heart dropped to her stomach. She knew exactly what he was about to do.

And sure enough he stepped forward and grabbed the swords the customer had been about to withdraw. "You want a show?" He growled. "I'll give you a show!'

He pulled a table in front of him with his foot and kicked it at Jet, who was quick to slice the table with his swords and jumped over it. As he landed, he swung both hook swords at the Fire Nation prince, who deflected the attack and jumped backward onto another table. Which was again sliced in half by Jet, with a mighty swing of one sword through the middle of the table.

Somehow Zuko managed to balance on one half of the table, on one foot! Jet was unrelenting as he continued his frenzied attack by cutting the legs off the table. Zuko was quick on his feet as he jumped up. As he landed, he swung both broadswords at Jet's feet, but he somersaulted away and landed in a crouching position before charging forward. Zuko swung both of his swords at Jet.

Both weapons clashed as both fighters tried to best the other, glaring at each other as they did.

"Enough!"

Orora's scream cut through the air as she used her waterbending to push the two fighters apart. She moved to stand in front of Zuko, multiple ice knives nestled between her fingers as she stared down Jet. "We are not your enemies! Stop acting like a complete lunatic!" Zuko growled behind her. "Orora, stay out of this!" Jet's grip on his swords only tightened. "I will not listen to anyone who betrays their own people to help firebenders."

He took a running start, prompting Orora to drop in her stance to defend herself, however her plan of action went out the window when Zuko pushed her to the side. So forcefully that she fell to the ground with a loud thud.

Jet threw his leg out, catching Zuko in the chest and watching as he went flying through the air, smashing through the doors of the tea shop and out into the street. As the rest of the patrons rushed out to see what would happen next, Iroh quickly helped Orora to stand up.

"Are you alright my dear?" He asked, checking her over for injuries. She gave a quick nod, before stumbling to the door of the shop, Iroh following behind.

Outside the battle continued to rage between the two teenagers.

"Please, son, you're confused! You don't know what you're doing!" Even he was getting worried that Zuko would snap and use his firebending. Orora began to pray silently to the Moon Spirit, hoping her pleas would be heard and that Zuko wouldn't get hurt or reveal his true identity. The people would surely kill Zuko and Iroh, if they knew who they really were.

"Bet you wish he'd help you out with a little fire blast right now." As Jet swung at Zuko's feet, Zuko stabbed one of his broadswords through the hilt of his sword, pinning it to the ground. Jet looked annoyed at loosing his weapon, before focusing back on Zuko. "You're the one who needs help." Zuko responded. Leaving the sword embedded in the floor, they shifted to combating with a single sword each. Jet turned in a circle, trying to swipe at Zuko once again, but Zuko quickly advanced and swung his sword at Jet.

The Freedom Fighter quickly bent backward to avoid the blade, though it did manage to cut the straw sticking out of his mouth in half. Regaining his balance, Jet jumped backward onto the edge of a well. "You see that‌?!" He called out to the gathered crowd. "The Fire Nation is trying to silence me. It'll never happen." He attacked once more, hooking his sword to the top of the well and sending a flying kick towards Zuko.

Zuko growled as he dodged the kick and swung his sword at Jet once again. He moved to the side, and suddenly they were back-to-back, trying to land a hit, but neither could get past the other's defense.

Just then two newcomers entered the crowd. And from their uniforms, they looked to be of an official status. "Drop your weapons." One of them commanded. The two fighters stepped away and faced each other. Though Zuko lowered his sword, Jet pointed his weapon at Zuko, Iroh and Orora.

"Arrest them! They're firebenders!" Iroh stepped forward, throwing his arms out. "This poor boy is confused. We're just simple refugees." Pao, wanting to defend his employees joined in as he pointed to Jet. "This young man wrecked my tea shop, and assaulted my employees!" The customer from whom Zuko had borrowed the swords stepped forward. "It's true, sir. We saw the whole thing. This crazy kid attacked the finest tea maker in the city." Iroh blushed at the compliment. "Oh, ho, ho. That's very sweet."

Knowing it would be like adding wood to the fire, Orora stepped forward. "And he attacked me and threatened to hurt my Master and his nephew." She walked towards the two men, hand exposed to the wrist where he had grabbed her earlier. Sure enough the bruise from his grip was already beginning to change the color of her skin. The sight of it had Zuko nearly swinging his sword once again, but Iroh placed a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

It would seem the two had heard enough. As Jet continued his tirade of firebenders and Fire Nation, he was escorted to a cart where he was put in the metal cell and taken away.

Orora watched him go, unaware of the crowd as it dispersed around them.

"Orora?" At Iroh's voice, she turned around, still a little spooked with what had just happened. Or rather what could've happened. "Why don't you and Li go home. I'll help Pao clean up and meet you there."

As if she had no control over her actions, Orora took off her apron and handed it to Iroh, who gave her a sympathetic smile. "Do see that my nephew wasn't too hurt from the kick, my dear." The concern was evident in his gaze, as was the guilt in her own as she glanced at Zuko who was returning the sword to it's rightful owner.

Giving him a small nod, she waited for Zuko to walk past her, before following after him towards their shared home.

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Tag List - @wavesofchaos @violet-potter @rennysketch @emma-andrea1 @lovesammikinzz @fuzzyfestcat @msrawog @notsaelty @lust-for-pan @aces-tattooartist

#prince zuko x oc #prince zuko x reader #zuko imagine #zuko x reader #prince zuko #zuko x y/n #zuko x oc #avatar the last airbender imagine #avatar the last airbender fanfiction #avatar: the last airbender #avatar the last airbender #avatar #the thread of fate

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zhongrin · 4 months

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𒆙 ღ

part 8/8 of ⎡∞ / 𝟔 𝟎 𝟎 𝟎 ⁺⎦, a zhongli 2023 birthday event

𖧷 tags ┈ selfship (zhongrin, small hint of zhongwrinth), 3rd person pov from zhongli's side, fluff, bittersweet (like almost all the other chapters are lol), slight soft yandere-ish, slight genshin's canon lore references

𖧷 a/n ┈ happy new year my dear patrons! starting off this year strong with some super indulgent selfship piece :> technically, it can be read as x fem!reader, but you'll find that it was not meant to be one. you'll find a lot of hidden selfship lores in this, and it's very very very self-indulgent and personal (which is why i don't have the usual x reader tags), so keep that in mind and be respectful, please 🙏🏻 you have been warned!

𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒻𝓊𝓁𝓁 𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓊 ❬ masterlist ❭ 𐫱 𝓂𝑒𝓂𝒷𝑒𝓇𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓅 ❬ taglist ❭

𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 was an intricacy he had been continuously studying over the course of more than six thousand years and counting now.

and still, with every year that passed, he realized there were many sides of love he had not discovered nor experienced himself. things like—

how the peals of someone’s laughter could be comparable to the most melodious bird’s singing, and in its contraposition, how the saddened frown from a beloved person when he forgot an important date due to the many anniversaries which had accumulated over the past few millennia, could cut deeper than the sharpest blades forged by the most proficient masters of the blacksmiths.

how, despite the many losses and reunions he had experienced, he would still have the same nightmare that had been regularly plaguing him from a few millennia back: the vision of her bloodied shell, the rage bubbling from the deepest of his heart. how the mountains tore and the seabed shifted, the anguish as cold as the lifeless body within his hold and as silent as her unmoving crimson-stained lips, the pain hundredfold as he buried her with his own hands in some desolate place ridden by war and placed a single yellow hibiscus as a meagre offering.

how the scent of the sea used to be relatively bearable despite the reflexive scrunch of his nose, and even so, he found himself increasingly becoming averse to them - especially when the scent paired with the minty frost of snezhnaya or the chalky, wintery air of dragonspine.

how, those old times ago, his closest friends had betted on the day he would use his proficiency and skills in the advanced adepti arts to do menial tasks out of love, and though at that time, morax had scoffed and laughed right in front of their face... look at him now, gladly using the ability to maintain adeptal realms to expand his beloved’s teashop or facilitate her travels between the nations of teyvat.

𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒… such an infinitely complex and neverending, yet beautiful affair.

“happy birthday, rex lapis.”

“happy birthday, morax.”

“happy birthday, zhongli.”

“happy birthday, xiànɡ ɡonɡ!”

love tasted like a sweet kiss with a touch of fragrant osmanthus and the bitterness of coffee. love took the form of a bashful and imperfect smile in full bloom against rosy cheeks. love was the way her silken hair felt against his calloused fingers as he tied his treasured golden hair clip around the midnight-colored strands, following her 'coincidental' oversight to bring her own. love was heard in fond wishes and silent gratitudes whispered into the seas of stars, amongst the soft rolls of waves caressing the shores of the harbor of their retirement home.

perhaps his darling won’t be by his side next year. perhaps she would, in a different form than what she was now. perhaps…. he would not survive this year.

but what did it matter?

for even as calamity befell aria, sonnet, and canon, the corpse of a moon still continued its sovereignty in a fixed orbit to encircle teyvat, unchanging — and so he believed the two lovers’ fates would intertwine once again; for she was destined to be his, for he oathed to be bound to her beyond a mortal expiry;

until their souls reunited in a place not even the heavenly principles could reach,

until no more engraved rings could fit in her fingers,

until teyvat's bedrock crumbled into dust.

“the day the rite of parting is recompensed, wife of mine… i promise our 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 will be sealed eternal.”

a contract sealed in souls, befitting of his goetic namesake. this might as well be the most selfish contract he has ever sealed with his blood — yet could one still call him a devil when his victim was most willing?

#genshin impact #zhongli #yandere #rin selfships #zhongrin #zhongwrinth #rin writes #∞ / 𝟔 𝟎 𝟎 𝟎 ⁺

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infinite---hyperdeath · 1 year

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national bubble tea day or somthing

#i got boba today and they gave me regular milk instead of the lactaid version that i asked for #it was okay though #my ipad was dying on me so these only get to be sketches #mirage was more rushed im sorry mirage ;;#my art tag #ultrakill #ultrakill gabriel #ultrakill mirage

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anqelically · 1 year

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I haven't been very well these days so, could i req tecchou comforting s/o after a bad day

🪷

for you | tecchou suehiro x gn!reader

content: no manga spoilers, comfort

word count: 0.6k

navi | bsd masterlist

“y/n, are you okay?”

the moment you walked through the front door, tecchou suehiro could sense that something was off. your shoulders were slumped and you had a frown, not to mention how you dryly greeted him.

so as you made yourself a cup of tea, the brown-haired man approached you. he had disappeared for a couple of minutes after he welcomed you home. you, still stirring, turned your head to him.

“it’s just been rough at work lately, that’s all. today was especially annoying, however. my boss dumped more work on me because someone else was slacking off! ugh, it was all due today too. i got most of it done, but i got to finish the rest on my laptop before bed. it’s irritating! like seriously…”

you let out a harsh breath, realizing that saying that had helped you calm down a tad. you also realized that you ended up raising your voice at tecchou. you were going to apologize when you felt his arms snake around your waist.

“i set up the bath for you. go in, i’ll finish making your tea and bring it to you,” tecchou told you before he kissed your cheek.

you let go of the spoon, “you didn’t have to…”

“i wanted to,” he then stood next to you. “now go, this shouldn’t take long.”

like he said, tecchou had set up the bath for you. a layer of bubbles floated atop the warm water. after you undressed and sat down, you felt your body relax. the scent of the candle he lit up by the sink was also your favorite, you noticed.

you were submerged in the water with your eyes shut when tecchou walked in. you heard him place down something before you opened your eyes. he had placed your tea on the table next to the bathtub before he sat down on the floor. he had his back against the tub, meaning he couldn’t see you softly smile.

“so,” he began as you took a sip, “you said work has been rough lately. why didn’t you tell me before…?”

you answered, “i just didn’t want to bother you, love. you work to protect the nation, the world, even. i don’t even get to complain compared to you.”

“my work doesn’t make it so that i have complaining rights over you. if you have something to say, then tell me. i will listen, no matter what.”

tecchou doesn’t say anything when you wrap your wet arms loosely around his shoulders. you press a kiss onto his exposed collarbone, which caused his back to straighten. you let out a chuckle as the tips of his ears turned a blush pink.

“thank you, tecchou. i love you, okay? remember that,” you close your eyes, still embracing him.

he took one of your hands and kissed it, “i love you. i will support you when necessary. please, remember that.” you’ve always been sure to take care of him, so tecchou wanted to be sure you knew he would do the same for you.

“alright, deal.”

once you finish with your bath, you get dressed and lay in bed. you were ready to finish up your work when tecchou took you in his embrace immediately. he asked you for one thing, something you wanted desperately but was against.

although you had deadlines, tecchou’s pleading voice convinced you to lay in bed with him and fall asleep. your bodies were turned to each other, arms and legs tangled when you talked about everything. eventually, your words grew quiet and your eyelids shut.

after you had fallen asleep, tecchou brushed away stray hairs from your face. his lips meet your forehead before he pulls your sleeping body closer and falls asleep himself.

note: i’m sorry to hear that you haven’t been well, my love :(( i hope things get better for you!! i’m always available to talk <3

reblogs are appreciated + join my taglist !

@nagicore @enomane @er0ses @spenzitz @wineaddict2904 @aeshiiteiru @chuuyrr @ashthemadwriter @sanjis-fav-w1fe @bejeweledgirl @ma3mae

#୨୧ [ writing ]#bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #tecchou x reader #tecchou suehiro x reader #suehiro tecchou x reader #tetchou x reader #tetcho x reader #bungo sd #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd comfort

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phillippadgettwrites · 9 months

Text

Dropped Call

Rated X / 2873 words / Tagging @today-in-fic / Posted on AO3

See AO3 for a note about the prompt for this story

It’s past 9:00 pm when Scully finally accepts that she’s sick. Allergies, overtiredness, and the sinus-drying impacts of air conditioning were all hopeful contenders, but when her muscles begin to ache she picks up the phone to tell Mulder that she won’t be in tomorrow.

A sick day doesn’t sound completely terrible; at least she’ll get to catch up on sleep, but she can easily predict that Mulder will insist on coming by to bring her an endearing but inevitably odd care package consisting of chicken soup, hot tea, DayQuil, and a recent issue of National Enquirer, among other curiosities. She’ll feel embarrassed about looking terrible, and he’ll give her a thinly veiled compliment that draws unwanted attention to the undercurrent of sexual tension in their relationship, which she will then dwell on for the next 2-4 weeks. Splendid.

She hits speed dial #1 and flops down on the couch while it rings, already dreaming of the lengthy bubble bath she plans to treat herself to in what would otherwise be the middle of her workday. Maybe she’ll even order in for lunch.

“Hey, I was hoping you’d call back.”

She’s caught off guard, and briefly considers the possibility that she already called him but forgot about it in her congested haze.

“You were?” she asks, surprised by how raspy her voice sounds. This cold seems to be progressing quickly.

“I figured the call dropped,” he says, and it sounds like he’s on the move. She can picture him walking around his apartment with the phone tucked between his ear and shoulder; he never stays still for long.

She’s still rather confused, though, because she’s almost certain that she hasn’t spoken to him since they both left the office a few hours ago.

“What were we talking about?” she asks, then holds the phone at arms-length while she clears her throat. “When the call dropped, I mean.”

“My partner,” he says.

His partner? Is he seeing someone? A little flush of something between embarrassment and jealousy warms her cheeks.

“What about…them?” she asks, touching her forehead with the back of her hand. She doesn’t feel feverish, but this conversation is rather disorienting.

Mulder chuckles a little, and now she feels stupid on top of everything else.

“Come on, Electra, don’t be coy,” he says in an unfamiliar singsong voice. “I think you’ve probably paid off your mortgage with all the money you’ve made listening to me talk about her.”

Electra? Maybe she should get the thermometer.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she admits.

Mulder laughs again, and the pitch of it makes her belly tumble. He’s being downright flirtatious.

“I appreciate your effort to maintain the facade,” he says lightly. “You’re a true professional. That’s why I request you, you know. When you’re not available they always ask if I’d like to talk to another girl, but I never do.”

She realizes at this point that Mulder thinks she is someone else. Someone named Electra. Someone he pays to talk to. She opens her mouth to speak but her jaw just hangs there, stunned into silence. The fact that he thinks she’s his 1-900 girl is embarrassing enough—for both of them—but the fact that he’s in the habit of talking to his 1-900 girl about his partner—her—is both enthralling and horrifying.

She should tell him it’s her. No—she should just hang up so he never has to know. That would be the kindest thing to do, really.

“Electra?” he asks.

“Yeah,” she sputters, sitting up on the couch. “I’m here.”

“You okay? You sound…different.”

She should hang up. She doesn’t.

“I think I’m getting sick,” she says, which is true.

“Ah,” he says knowingly.

“So, um…” she tries, feeling simultaneously overwhelmed by guilt and curiosity. “What were you saying about your partner again?”

Mulder heaves a sigh.

“I was asking whether you think it’s misogynistic that she’s always submissive in my fantasies,” he says casually. “I think that’s when the call dropped, so I didn’t get to hear your answer.”

Scully’s entire body flushes, and she quickly looks around her apartment as though someone might be overhearing their conversation.

“Um…I guess it depends,” she answers, trying to think beyond the fact that Mulder has sexual fantasies about her so that she can actually engage in this conversation. “What’s the nature of the fantasy? Is it degrading?”

“No,” he says quickly. “Not at all. More like…” She hears the rustle of fabric, and she imagines him lying down on his recently acquired bed. “More like she wants to give up control.”

“Tell me about it,” she says, and as soon as the words leave her mouth her eyes widen. Surely she did not just ask him that. But apparently Electra did. “So I can tell you if it’s degrading,” she adds.

Mulder hums wistfully and she feels a hearty throb between her legs. This is objectively wrong. She should stop.

“There are several variations, but I’ll tell you my favorite one,” he begins. “She’s in a shitty mood, and she’s acting pretty bitchy.”

Scully scoffs reflexively, then cringes at her slip-up.

“I didn’t say she was being a bitch,” he corrects. “And you know it turns me on when she’s like that. I mean it in a complimentary way.”

“Right,” Scully says, feeling flustered between pretending to be Electra and gathering so much surprising information in such a short amount of time. He likes it when she’s a bitch to him?

“Anyway, she’s cranky and irritable, and we’re at the office,” he continues.

She’s picturing it now in her head, the two of them in the basement office, and Scully in a bad mood. It’s easy enough to imagine as it’s a semi-frequent occurrence.

“She says something to me, something derisive, and I snap at her and suggest that she needs an attitude adjustment.”

“Uh-huh,” Scully says, hanging onto his every word in eager anticipation of what comes next.

“I think it’s pertinent that I’m already hard,” he says.

“In the office?” she asks.

“No, I mean right now, while I’m telling you this. I’m already hard and it’s not even to the juicy part yet.”

Scully squirms on her couch, ashamed, and uncomfortable, and decidedly aroused. Mulder’s erect penis is something she’s given more than a passing thought to, and knowing it’s right there on the other end of the line is certainly captivating.

“...Wow,” she says, because she doesn’t know what else to say.

“So I tell her she needs an attitude adjustment, and she says ‘then why don’t you give me one?’ a little bit haughty, like she’s daring me because she doesn’t think I’ll do it.”

“And then what?” Scully asks, perhaps a little too eagerly.

Mulder groans softly, not at all attempting to hide it, and she starts to squeeze her thighs together rhythmically.

“She’s wearing a skirt,” he says, his voice husky. “I walk over to her and I grab her by the waist and pick her up, put her on top of the desk.”

“Your desk?” Scully asks. She wants to be sure she’s picturing it just right.

“Yeah. I put her on top of the desk and she’s looking at me like…like what the fuck are you doing ? But I can tell that she’s curious. She wants to see what I’m going to do.”

Scully is having the same experience as the version of herself in Mulder’s fantasy. She desperately wants to know where he’s going to take this. Where he wishes he could take it.

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m gonna eat her pussy,” he says without hesitation, and Scully sucks in a breath when her clit throbs violently at the idea. “But first I kiss her, ease her into it. She’s a little resistant at first—not like she tells me no or anything—but she’s worried we’ll get caught.”

Scully can no longer resist the urge to touch herself. She slips her free hand under her pajama pants and sighs with relief as her fingers glide over her slick lips.

“Are you touching yourself?”

She snatches her hand back and sits up, then looks around, half expecting to see him standing in her kitchen.

“What?” she stutters, embarrassed and confused.

“I know you aren’t actually doing it,” Mulder says, his voice momentarily returning to its normal cadence. “But I thought you might humor me.”

“Oh,” Scully says, sinking back into the cushions as her racing heart begins to slow. “...Are you?”

“Of course,” he says, and she knows that he is not pretending.

“Then…yes, I am,” she says, sliding her hand back under her pants. “Please continue.”

“So we do this whole ‘we can’t do this here, it’s against policy’ bit, which I’m a huge fan of. Maybe that’s fucked up, but I like to imagine that she tries to resist the urge on principle, but she can’t because she wants me too much.”

Scully is reminded of an occasion on which she slipped one of Mulder’s well-worn tapes out of the bottom drawer of his desk and into her purse, curious to see what kind of porn he gravitates towards. In the privacy of her apartment, she’d been surprised and intrigued to find that the tape was a series of clips from different movies, all depicting covert trysts between people who expressed first that they should not be doing what they were about to do, and then what they were doing, and finally what they’d just done.

“I don’t think that’s fucked up,” she tells him, sinking her middle finger into her cunt to the second knuckle.

“I take off her jacket, and unbutton her blouse, and then I just pull her bra down to get at her tits. I don’t even bother taking it off.”

She never imagined that Mulder would be inclined to use the word “tits,” but she’s surprised to find that it doesn’t bother her one bit. She’s much more interested in what he plans to do with her tits than she is with what he calls them.

“She has incredible tits,” he says, and she realizes that he’s speaking from an informed place because he’s seen her nude. Given, she was half dead, but it seems she still managed to make an impression, which is oddly gratifying. “I suck on her nipples and she’s fucking feral. She just…turns to putty. I know she’ll let me do anything to her. Anything I want.”

His voice has a staccato quality that leads her to believe that he’s stroking himself, and rather quickly at that. Scully swirls her slippery finger around her clit in time with the little hiccups in his words.

“But all I want is to taste her. Make her come in my mouth,” he says, and she knows she’s going to come right here on her couch if they keep this up. “So I tell her to lay back and I tear her pantyhose, then push her skirt up. She’s wearing these little white panties I’ve seen in her suitcase. Lace. I pull them to the side so I can see her.”

Later, she will recall his comment about her little white panties and wonder how many times he’s explored the contents of her suitcase or her underwear drawer. At the moment, though, she’s picturing him looking between her legs with a hungry expression on his face while she finger-fucks herself.

“She’s so wet I can see it running out of her. And her lips are all swollen and—fuck. I can’t resist so I get on my knees and bury my face in her pussy. She tastes so good and I’m so turned on that I get my dick out and jerk off while I eat her.”

Scully is beyond the point of forming words. She’s hovering just before the edge, ready to tumble over at the slightest provocation. She can only hope that he keeps talking.

“She grabs my head and digs her fingernails into my scalp, and I can hardly breathe but I don’t care. I can feel her quivering and pulsing on my lips and around my tongue, and then she moans and tells me she’s gonna come, and her whole cunt is just…throbbing against my face. She comes so hard she knocks half the shit off my desk. And then I come, right on the floor, because I can’t hold back. It’s too good.”

Scully is stonily silent as she comes around her own fingers, imagining that they are Mulder’s tongue and that the press of her own palm is his face tucked tightly between her legs. It’s powerful, rivaling anything she’s produced with her vibrator as of late, and she is only marginally aware of his soft grunts as he does the same on the other end of the line.

As she slowly comes down and the haze of lust fades away, she realizes what she’s just done and acute shame washes over her.

“Damn,” Mulder says, sounding satisfied. There is a long pause while they each collect their thoughts. “So, what do you think?”

Scully blinks stupidly, her hand still resting over her soaking wet cunt.

“About what?”

“Is it misogynistic? The fantasy?”

“Oh,” she says, pulling her hand free and sitting up on the couch. “Um, no, I don’t think so. I think bringing a woman to orgasm with no expectation of reciprocation is about the least misogynist thing I can think of, actually.”

Mulder chuckles.

“Well, that clears most of my other fantasies, then, because that is the running theme.”

“Really,” she says, more an expression of surprise than a question.

“With her, yes,” he says. She wants to ask him so many questions, but he cuts her off. “I think I’m just about at my weekly minute cap before I risk being late on rent, so I better let you go. Thanks for calling back.”

“Right, of course,” Scully says awkwardly, remembering that she is currently playing the role of Electra, the phone sex operator. “Have a good night.”

“You, too, Electra. Bye.”

Scully hangs up and then sits there for several minutes, shell shocked. When the phone, which is still in her hand, begins to ring, she startles so violently she drops it on the floor, then scrambles to fish it out from under the couch.

“Hello?” she says urgently, just before the machine picks up.

“Hey, Scully, it’s me,” he says, and the sound of his voice is like an aphrodisiac, even though it’s been less than twenty minutes since her orgasm.

“Hi,” she says, her voice unnaturally loud.

“Are you okay? You sound weird.”

“I was actually just about to call you,” she says, glancing at the clock. “I’m not feeling well and I think I might take the day off tomorrow to rest.”

There is an unnaturally long pause on the other end of the line.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he says. “Can I bring you anything?”

“No, Mulder, you don’t need to do that. It’s just a cold,” she insists.

“I’ll bring you lunch,” he says. “You like that soup from the Thai place, right?”

She smiles despite the absurdity of this entire situation.

“I do. Thank you, Mulder.”

“Happy to do it. Get some rest, G-Woman.”

“I will. Goodnight.” She’s pulling the phone away from her ear when she hears him speaking again. “Did you say something?”

“Yeah…um…Did you call me earlier?”

“...What do you mean?”

“Like half an hour ago, did you call me?” He sounds nervous, and she’s not sure what he’s hoping to hear.

“I don’t think so.”

“You don’t think so?” he repeats.

“No…No, I don’t think that was me,” she says ambiguously.

Another unnaturally long pause.

“Okay, never mind. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Mulder.”

Now it is she who speaks again when she’s not sure if he’s already hung up.

“Mulder?”

“Yeah?”

The speed of his answer tells her that he still had the phone to his ear.

“What if I did call you?”

She can practically hear his thoughts racing through the phone.

“...Then I would wonder if I’m still welcome to come by and bring you lunch tomorrow,” he says, sounding markedly meek.

“Of course you are,” she tells him, relieved that he isn’t angry. In fact, he sounds more concerned that she might be angry with him . “But to be clear, we’re having soup for lunch. Just soup. Because I’m sick.”

The overture, while thinly veiled, is so forward that she feels like she might vomit.

“Just soup,” he repeats. “But only because you’re sick?”

Scully pulls in a deep breath.

“I could see myself enjoying other meals when I’m feeling better,” she says on an exhale, then covers her own eyes with her hand.

“Well, then you should get some rest,” he says, and that gravelly, hungry quality from his phone call with Electra has suddenly found its way back into his voice. “We’ll want you back in action as quickly as possible.”

“Yes, I’ll do that,” she says, blushing and cringing and buzzing all at once. “Goodnight, Mulder.”

“Goodnight, Electra.”

He hangs up before she has a chance to respond.

#x files fanfic #the x files #xf fic #xf fanfic #dana scully #fox mulder #smut #xfiles #the xfiles

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