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cegantheayugipi · 1 year

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"I Aced the Fatui Typewriter Exam" (Childe x Reader)

A Childe Enemies to Lovers Smut Oneshot

Link to the Artist

Summary: Your sparring partner, Childe, ended up breaking your arm in your most recent fight... now, this wouldn't be an issue if you weren't an author who desperately needed to finish a manuscript by tomorrow... However, you come up with a creative but ambitious solution that seems to work a little too well, and not in the way you want...

Word Count: 10.0k

WARNINGS: MINORS DNI!!! BIG SMUT BELOW THE CUT!!

Tags include: hate sex, childe having very many disgusting kinks, violence, injury, waterworks

“I’m sorry.” You choked for a moment as you found your voice, “I have to WHAT?!”

Your exclamation rang through Bubu Pharmacy as you gawked at the poor Pharmacist, your voice so loud that any passerby outside could hear.

“You have to rest your arm for at least a week.” Baizhu shook his head. “Your Ulna is fractured, and it will not heal right if you keep treating your body like you have nine lives. I strongly suggest you stop your sparring sessions with that Harbinger you despise so dearly.”

“That fucking ASSHOLE!” You cursed, seething in place as Baizhu finished wrapping up your arm with bandages.

“Now, be quiet. There are children here, and I don’t like you using curses around them.” Baizhu spoke sternly yet smoothly, flashing you a smile. The two of you had grown close over the years, especially since your knack for danger ended you up at this very pharmacy all too often, so neither of you took each others’ antics to heart.

“But Baizhu,” you groaned, “I have a manuscript to send off tomorrow! Lady Guuji is going to have my head if I’m late again!”

“There is no way you can write or type with your dominant hand broken,” Baizhu responded flatly. “Perhaps, next time you will reevaluate the priority of your sparring sessions, since it seems like every time you have one, you end up in my care.”

“Baizhu, I’m serious! What do I do about this deadline?!” You groaned.

“Well, if it were me, I’d try to find a proxy who can write for you.” Baizhu shrugged as he handed you a small parcel of medicine for you to take.

“Baizhu, you know what kind of literature I write, I can’t just…” You trailed off for a moment as a brilliant idea came to you.

“Actually, you’re a fucking genius. I love you.”

You stood up and immediately stalked towards the door.

“Don’t forget to take your medicine!” Baizhu called after you.

Now that you were finally gone, the Pharmacist let out a worried sigh.

“The broken lady is always too noisy.” Qiqi peeked her head around the corner of the countertop, where she had been hiding from you this entire time.

“Yes, she is.” Baizhu sighed.

“What does fucking asshole mean?”

The curses coming from the small child’s mouth shocked Baizhu.

“QIQI!” he exclaimed, his eyes going wide. “That is not a word you can say!”

“Fucking asshole…”

“NO, QIQI!”

~~~

“Miss L/N, Sir Tartaglia is busy at the moment. I can pass on a message to him if it’s urgent.” Ekaterina spoke as the two of you stood in the lobby of Northland Bank.

“Urgent, my ass! That rat bastard owes me, his work can wait!” You seethed, storming around the poor receptionist as you made your own way to his office. Somehow, you remembered the way to his office from the odd couple of times you had visited him at work.

“W-wait, he’s really behind on paperwork! Please let him catch up!” Ekaterina shouted after you, but you paid no mind as you continued down the hall.

The corridors were winding, dimly lit, and confusing, but you confidently swung open a door, knowing that this was certainly Childe’s office.

“*insert Fatui voice line here*”

You blinked, realizing you had opened the door to a janitor’s closet, and that a Fatui Anemoboxer was pinning an Agent to the wall inside. The two froze, turning their heads towards you, and you quickly slammed the door shut.

“I suggest you lock the door, idiots!” You shouted angrily.

So, that wasn’t Childe’s office. Which one was his, again?

You squinted as you stared down the corridor, realizing that Childe’s office was actually across from the closet from the plaque on the door with the name “Tartaglia” carved into it.

WIth absolutely zero respect for the Harbinger who broke your arm, you kicked the door open to see the ginger sitting at his desk surrounded by stack upon stack of papers. He seemed unsurprised that you had barged in so violently, considering the door slamming and shouting that happened only seconds prior.

“You sure know how to make an entrance.” He spoke flatly. “Are you paying for my door repair?”

“Do your fingers work?”

“Huh?” Childe seemed confused.

“I’m asking you. Can you use all ten fingers?”

“Depends how you want me to use them.” He smirked cheekily, leaning back in his chair.

“Ew, you disgusting bastard. I’m asking if you can type.” You stormed towards his desk, tempted to swipe all his stacks of papers onto the floor. “Unless your fingers are as dumb as that empty head of yours.”

“I got a top score on the Fatui typewriter exam, I’ll have you know.” Childe crossed his arms over his chest defensively. “I bet I can type faster than you.”

“Hah.” You laughed. “I’d like to see you try.”

“Oh yeah?” Childe smirked. “I could do it right now.”

“You could?” You smirked. “I’ll hold you to it.”

“It’s a contest, then.” Childe spoke confidently.

“Actually, that’s exactly what I was thinking.” You smirked.

“Huh?” the ginger became confused again.

“I have a manuscript due tomorrow and SOMEONE has rendered me unable to type or write. So, you’re coming with me.”

“W-wait, I have a lot of paperwork to do-”

“Your paperwork can wait one more day. I have a deadline and a publisher who is demanding I start sending out drafts on time.”

You walked around the desk, grabbing Childe’s arm with your unbroken one and dragging him out of his chair. The ginger stumbled behind you, unsure about what you had in store for him.

“Morax on a stick, your arms are scrawny as hell.” You scoffed, continuing to drag him behind you.

“These arms can still beat you in a fight.” Childe retorted.

“I’d watch my mouth if I was you.” Rolling your eyes, you dragged Childe through the lobby of Northland Bank towards the main entrance.

“Miss L/N, Sir Tartaglia, wait!” Ekaterina exclaimed as she tried to call after you. However, the two of you were already on your way out the door.

~~~

“So… What do I do again?” Childe spoke, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. You had made him sit down at your desk, in front of your typewriter, a page half-filled with the guide already positioned at the next empty line on the page. You stood behind the Harbinger, staring down at his messy head of hair as you pointed to the machine.

“I dictate, you type.” You spoke bluntly. “If you mess up even one letter, I’ll break your nose.”

“Okay…” Childe suddenly felt extremely nervous. He had last done this test when he was eighteen, which was several years ago. However, he knew he couldn’t give up here, since he had to carry through with his bet to prevent him from seeming like a coward.

“Alright? The page is already half done. Just write what I say.”

“Got it…” Childe trailed off, positioning his hands over the keys.

“You never realized how the Knight felt for you until-”

“Wait, why is it in second person?” Childe questioned.

“Shut up and type.” You responded. “I’ll start again.”

“O-okay.”

“You never realized how the Knight felt for you until you felt his soft embrace, period. You thought he was merely a noble man who was courteous to everyone, comma, but this was more than just that, period. This was desire, period.”

Childe’s hands flew across the keys, typing out the sentence with speed and accuracy that actually surprised you. When Childe reached the end of the line his hand flew up and fluidly swiped the carriage return lever to start a new line without any hesitation. Only a couple of seconds after you had finished speaking, the sentence was written out in perfect spelling and punctuation.

“Wow, you can actually type pretty fast.”

“I’m assuming you don’t want that sentence included.”

“Yup.” Mildly impressed, you continued to dictate the story.

“...as your lips daintily interlocked with his, comma, you could feel the tender passion the Knight radiated, period. His arms gently caressed your back and pulled you closer to him, period.”

Childe didn’t know how to feel about typing this sort of story out for you, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to win the competition and prove he was better at typing than you. So, he ignored what you were saying and instead focused on getting the letters typed onto the page.

“His hands moved dexterously as he unlaced your bodice-”

“Uhm.” Childe cut in, his hands pausing over the keys.

“Hm?” You raised an eyebrow, wondering if this kind of story would be too much for Childe to type calmly.

“How do you spell dexterously?”

You rolled your eyes, realizing it was a mere spelling issue.

“You’re a fucking idiot.”

“I think that’s a couple too many letters for one word.” Childe responded cheekily.

“D-E-X-T-E-R-O-U-S-L-Y” You spelled out quickly, and Childe immediately finished the rest of the sentence afterwards.

“Okay, continue.” He responded, still determined to win at whatever this competition was turning into.

A couple minutes later, and the story had progressed even further.

“You stared up at his toned body, comma, admiring the way his muscles flexed as he moved, period. Line break.”

Childe grew uneasy as he finished the sentence and set a new line on the typewriter, the satisfying “clunk” of the metal sliding into place acting as a signal for you to continue.

“Open quote. Are you willing to submit fully to me, to give me everything, question mark, close quote.”

Childe shifted in his seat, realizing exactly where this story was going as his hands continued to fly over the keys and type perfect words. He tried to block out how the language you used seemed to only grow more and more lewd.

“You gasped as you felt him breach you, comma, laying kisses over you as he penetrated you with his manhood, period.”

Childe hoped the blush on his cheeks wasn’t obvious to you.

“How can you publish something like this knowing that people are going to read it?” Childe murmured.

“No talking, typewriter. And I’m no idiot. I use a pen name.”

You switched back to dictating your story as it progressed.

“You couldn’t help the moans that escaped your mouth as his cock pounded into your sopping cunt-”

Childe choked, his hands faltering over the keys in response to what you had just said.

“Do I need to say it again? You couldn’t help the moans tha-”

“Are you getting off to the fact that you’re making me type this?” Childe questioned in disbelief.

“Hah. You wish.” You stepped around the chair, standing next to where the Harbinger sat. “You shouldn’t be the one to talk when you’re hard yourself.”

“Wh-”

Childe froze in place as you lifted up your foot and placed it down on the outline of his dick that strained against his pants. Your slipper dug into the fabric, and Childe had to use every ounce of strength in his body to suppress a groan from the painful pleasure.

“Now, continue.” You instructed, “He grabbed the underside of your thighs, comma, fingers digging into your soft flesh, comma, pinning down your legs so he could pound into you at a better angle, period.”

Childe’s fingers moved a lot slower than before, now that your foot was digging painfully into his erection.

“Your eyes rolled back in your head as you felt him reach deeper and deeper inside of you, comma, pushing you closer and closer to your-”

You stopped as you realized Childe had finally made a mistake.

“You fucking rat bastard!” You exclaimed, pushing the chair backwards. “You made a mistake!”

“I’m sorry, it’s hard to pay attention to what I’m typing when you’re stepping on my-”

It’s hard to resist the temptation to break your damn nose!”

“Oh yeah? I can always break your other arm.”

“Then I’d just use my legs.”

You pushed the chair over, making Childe fall backwards onto the floor. Your foot remained pressed against his crotch, but Childe quickly solved the issue by pulling you down to the ground on top of him. You caught yourself on your hands and knees – which made you end up straddling his body.

“How about you stop writing such disgusting literature, you dirty minded freak.”

“Says the one who’s hard as a rock!”

“I’d bet my position as Eleventh Harbinger that you’re wet right now.” Childe smirked, slipping one hand down your stomach to the front of your waistband.

“Don’t touch me, you disgusting bastard.” You spat, grabbing both of his wrists and pinning them on either side of his head, ignoring the sharp pain that went down your broken arm.

Childe merely responded by rutting his hips upward, forcing you to sharply inhale as his erection pressed against your clothed but sensitive pussy. You tried your hardest to ignore the jolt of pleasure his movement sent through your body as you leaned back up, sitting down aggressively and forcing Childe’s hips back onto the floor – and painfully crushing his erection in the process.

Childe felt like he was going insane; his dick ached so badly, his lower back hurt where you forced it to dig into the back of your chair, and you stared down at him with abject hatred as you pinned his arms down…

This should be considered sexual torture – so why did he enjoy it?

“You’re gonna get up and finish the story.” You spat as you seethed with a deadly mixture of anger and arousal.

“I propose we take a break for now.”

“A break? Hah.” You shook your head at the disobedient Harbinger. “The smut has barely started.”

“Calling it smut, huh?” Childe smirked. “Just as disgusting as the word sounds.”

“You’re the disgusting one here.” You scoffed. “I can feel your dick twitching in your pants.”

“I’m not the only one, that’s for sure.” Childe smirked. “How do you even come up with stories like that?”

“I won’t reveal my methods to anyone. I have a bit of a monopoly on the market for these kinds of novels, which is why Yae is trying to squeeze every last ounce of talent from me.”

“Talent?” Childe scoffed. “I’d call it having a dirty mind.”

“I can show you dirty.” You smirked.

“Not if I show you first.” Childe gave you a devilish grin as he bucked his hips, throwing you off of him and flipping you over to pin you down on the ground. He held your good hand down with one of his, leaving your broken arm alone as his other hand roamed down your torso.

“Ugh, why does everything have to be a competition with you and your stupid-” Your words fell short as his hand slipped into your pants, fingers invading your underwear and raking along your lower lips.

“Ngh- Stop it!” You writhed beneath the ginger, trying to suppress the pleasure you felt from being violated by him.

“As I expected.” Childe smirked. “You’re disgustingly wet.

“Shut up, you ass- hnn-” Your eyes pinched together as Childe slipped two fingers into you without warning, stretching your entrance with the sudden intrusion.

“Wow, look at you taking in my fingers like a needy whore.”

“Stop it! You’re hurting m-” You gasped as he curled his fingers inside of you, the pads of his fingertips pressing into the all-too sensitive spot at your core. You blinked your eyes hard, trying to prevent them from rolling back in your head; you refused to show him that he was driving you insane as he began to pump his fingers in and out of you.

“Look at you, all worked up from only two fingers.” Childe teased.

“Grr, shut up and take them out of me!” You shouted, Finally giving in and using your broken arm again.

You swung your arm up, hand curled into a fist, to lay a weak and off-balance punch to the Harbinger’s nose.

“Gah!” Childe exclaimed, recoiling as he pulled his fingers out of you and leaned backward. He quickly recovered, returning to his teasing tone. “You’re gonna have to hit me harder than that if you wanna break my nose-”

Since Childe was leaning back, you finally had the room to raise one leg and kick hm in the face. He careened backwards, landing on his back across the room.

“Ngh!”

“If I can’t use my arms, I’ll just use my legs.” You smirked as you climbed to your feet.

“Hahhh, good one.” Childe groaned in pain. “Guess I’ll have to break those too.”

“Not if I break yours first.” You retorted, walking over and resting a knee on his dick.

“AAH!” Childe exclaimed, his eyes going wide from the intense pain of your weight on his erection. He tried to throw you off of him, but you quickly used your other leg to reach up and pin down one arm while using your good arm to pin down the other.

“I can’t believe how much you underestimate me.” You scoffed, staring down at the ginger with displeasure.

“The only thing I underestimated was how damn dirty you are.” Childe retorted, but you reached up with your broken arm to squeeze the column of his neck. You had just enough grip strength to cut off his airway, making his face turn red.

At first, Childe seemed to let you choke him, but as the seconds ticked by and it seemed more and more likely that you weren’t planning to let him breathe, his eyes went wide as he began to panic. He started to struggle harder against you, his movements becoming more and more desperate, but you maintained the upper hand since it was too painful for him to fight against the pressure on his erection.

Childe was about to resort to more aggressive methods as you finally relaxed your grip, allowing him to gasp as he finally took in air.

“You bitch.” Childe choked out, staring at you with hatred.

“Actually, I prefer it when you don’t speak.” You replied, quickly tightening your hand around his neck again.

Almost immediately, Childe began to struggle again, terrified that you weren’t planning on stopping anytime soon. His mouth opened as if to speak, but no sound emerged.

He’d have to actually fight to breathe.

Summoning the arcane power he reserved for only the direst of moments in battle, something in his pocket began to glow purple, as sparks of Electro began to arc across his body. He immediately channeled the energy through you in a short burst, the power too finicky to avoid causing serious harm.

You recoiled with a shrill scream as you felt the painful currents run down your limbs. The purple arcs of electricity danced across your skin, setting your nerves on fire. Childe wasted no time in overpowering you as soon as your hand left his neck. He grabbed your waist, bringing you down to the ground as he rolled on top of you and pressed your back into the hard floorboards.

“Unfair!” You gasped, head dizzy from the sudden change in position and skin tingling from the electrocution.

“Oh, please.” The ginger smirked as he reached one hand down, tearing your pants open and then ripping your underwear clean off of you to give him access to your core.

“Ngh, these clothes are expensive, you asshole!” You exclaimed furiously, kicking your legs out in a futile attempt to get him to move – he was hovering too close over your body, giving you no room for you to kick him off of you.

“Maybe you should have thought about that before getting me to write your porn.” Childe sneered, fingers brushing over your soaked folds. He let out a small spark of electro directly onto your clit, the jolt of electricity making your back arch from both pain and pleasure.

“Haahhh, stop!” You writhed, going insane from how much he was teasing you.

“Your soaking pussy says otherwise.” Childe smirked as he began to crawl backwards, his hands moving down to hold onto your thighs.

“That’s not what it-” you were cut off as he forced your legs open, diving his face into your wet heat. “Hey!”

You gasped as you felt his nose press against your overly-sensitive clit, his tongue pushing into your swollen entrance and sending pleasure shooting up your abdomen.

You hated the way he consistently crossed every single one of your boundaries – you hated the way he always managed to find a way to drive you insane… but what you hated the most was the fact you liked it.

You suppress a moan, trying to move your thighs to push him away. However, they were growing shaky, a part of you beginning to fall into the pleasure.

“Ngh, stop…” You reached down with your good hand and grabbed a fistful of his hair, trying to yank him away from you.

Childe merely grunted, his grip on your thighs tightening as he pressed his tongue further into you. You blinked away the pleasure that clouded your vision as he nipped and sucked at your sensitive lips. The wet heat of his mouth threatened to overwhelm you, but you persisted.

“Get off of me, you bastard…” You groaned, but your grip on his hair began to weaken as your arm grew shaky.

Childe raised his head slowly, his gaze filled with lust as he stared up at your face. You noticed the strings of slick that clung to his mouth and chin, a wave of pleasure suddenly flashing in your stomach at the sight – why was it so hot?

“You even taste like a slut,” Childe spoke lowly, crawling forwards to mash his lips into yours.

Your eyes widened as his lips meshed with yours. You whined into the kiss, hating the way his lips felt so good. You fought against him for a moment, tearing at his lips with your teeth, but a hand went up to your jaw in an attempt to force it open. Your jaw was strong, and you resisted for a moment, but as his grip became more and more painful you finally relented and let his tongue in. The salty sweet musk and slippery texture of your own arousal filled your mouth, filling you with a lethal mixture of pleasure and indignation at Childe’s blatant invasion of your boundaries. He pulled back for a moment, breaking away from your messy lips to spit directly into your mouth. You were caught off guard by the salacious mixture of your wetness and his saliva that suddenly splattered onto your lips.

“Hey- mmmph!” Your complaint was muffled by his lips on yours.

You groaned against the kiss, furious at the damned Harbinger for spitting in your mouth and driving you crazy, but also craving more. You tried to bite down on his lips, to draw blood in any way, but he was faster than you – he broke away from the kiss before you could hurt him.

“Asshole.”

Childe smirked.

“Please. You like it.”

The Harbinger rolled his hips forward, pressing against your wet heat, teasing your oh-so sensitive lips with his clothed erection. The friction against your bare skin made you groan, but you weren’t about to let him get away with humiliating you.

Reaching your good arm up, you gave a harsh tug to his coat, snapping off the clasps in the front and revealing his red shirt underneath.

“Excuse me!” Childe complained, watching the metal clasps clatter to the ground, pushing himself up onto his knees as he looked down at his broken coat.

“You ruined my clothes, it’s only fair I ruin yours.” You snarled, sitting up and grabbing onto his chest harness. With an aggressive twist, you brought him down to the floor again, quickly shuffling to pin his torso down with one knee while you slid your hand down his chest.

“Now that’s fair enou- aah!”

The ginger was interrupted by your hand harshly tugging at his belt, undoing the buckle and yanking the waistband down harshly. With the sound of his Hydro vision clattering to the floor and seams ripping, you had freed his painfully hard cock at the cost of his pants.

Childe let out something halfway between a grunt and a whine as his member slapped against his stomach. The tip gleamed with precum, evidence of just how turned on he had been.

“You’ve been making a mess in your pants, I see.” You smirked, fingers ghosting over the length of his dick as your thumb wiped across the wet droplet that had collected on his tip.

“You didn’t have to tear my clothes to feel my dick.” Childe spoke teasingly, somehow still smug despite being humiliated and groped like this.

You didn’t respond; you merely drew your hand back, giving a harsh slap to his stiff member. Childe gasped as his erection slapped against his stomach, his lungs quivering as his increasingly sensitive cock bounced back upright, throbbing with pleasure despite the pain you were causing him.

Childe moved his arms in an attempt to push himself up, but you quickly repositioned your leg to kick him back down to the ground.

“No.” You spoke sternly, staring down at the Harbinger with distaste. You began to crawl over him, keeping your body weight on his chest, silently ordering him to remain still. “You break my arm before an important deadline, then when you agree to help me with it, you get oh so flustered like a little schoolgirl and can’t keep your dick under control.”

Crawling further upwards, you slide your knees off his shoulders, settling them on either side of his head. Childe was so turned on as he stared up at your bare pussy above him, even if he realized there was a chance for him to throw you off-balance and pin you back down he wouldn’t have wanted to.

“Then, you have the audacity to call me disgusting. In my own home, for my own profession.” You sneered down at the Harbinger who simply laid there. Childe wasn’t sure if you’d sit on his face – although, a carnal part inside of him truly hoped you would.

“If you’d like me to be more respectful-” Childe’s quip was cut off by your stern order.

“Open your mouth.”

“What?”

Childe’s question went unanswered as a hot stream of liquid poured directly into his mouth. He sputtered for a second at the sudden bombardment, the golden fluid steaming as it quickly flooded his mouth. He thought it was water for a moment, until he registered the slightly bitter taste…

You were pissing on him.

Childe’s eyes squeezed shut as his lips sputtered, mouth quickly filled with urine, streaming down the sides of his mouth and slipping down the back of his throat. He choked at the musky taste, unable to help himself from swallowing the warm liquid.

The Harbinger didn’t know why he was suddenly so much more turned on than before. Childe’s dick throbbed almost uncontrollably at the way you used his mouth like a toilet; was he truly turned on by such an act of degradation?

He shuddered as he felt your urine trickle down the sides of his neck and into his hair. As the hot stream from above turned into more of a trickle, you lowered yourself onto Childe’s mouth, threatening to suffocate him with your pussy.

“Mmmh-” Childe groaned, his head trapped beneath your body. You were essentially sealing his mouth shut, forcing him to swallow everything that was in his mouth at the moment.

“I bet you like being put in your place like this, you filthy slut.” You spat, rolling your hips as you ground your pussy further into Childe’s mouth.

Childe was in heaven and hell at the same time. He didn’t understand how you could torture him and pleasure him at the same time, and he simply couldn’t cope with the way he hated you but at the same time desired you so intensely.

The Harbinger let out a choked whine at the way you ground into him, his shaky exhale from his nose tickling your clit. His eyes were wide and unfocused, and you smirked down at his expressions as you drove him crazy. Childe’s eyebrows pinched together as you slightly squeezed his head with your knees. Another roll of your hips and his eyes rolled back in his head, a guttural groan escaping his mouth.

Despite the ferocious desire that roared in his gut, Childe felt bare without his vision; almost instinctively, he reached towards it, knowing he couldn’t feel secure with it safely beside him.

You saw a hand slide across the floor from the corner of your eye, moving towards the Hydro vision that had slid away from Childe’s body… You quickly reached over and snatched it up before he could.

“Tsk tsk…” You hummed, holding the glowing vision in the air above him. “You can’t just use your powers to get out of this.”

Childe couldn’t help his hands from flying up to your hips, fingers digging into the soft skin of your ass as he pulled you down on his mouth harder. You let out a breathy gasp as he began to suck on your sensitive clit, lips nipping at your tender bud – it was as if he were saying he didn’t want to get out of the situation… It seemed like he was actually enjoying it.

You couldn’t withhold the shudder that traveled through your body as Childe’s tongue teased your entrance. What started out as simple degradation began to feel more and more like you were pleasing him as a loud slurp escaped Childe’s lips, his teeth grazing over your clit and making you squirm.

“What are you- ahn…” Your sentence fell short as Childe’s hands gripped your hips tighter, holding you down on his face. The teasing of his tongue against your swollen lips sent pleasure shooting through your stomach, something you would never admit to the cocky Harbinger.

A muffled groan emerged from Childe’s throat as he felt your entrance tighten around his tongue. He pulled your hips down harder, ignoring the very real possibility of crushing his face with your pussy.

“Hahh…” You murmured breathily, staring down at his face. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you, you filthy bastard- hnn…”

Your sentences were interrupted by the humiliating moans that you couldn’t hold back – you didn’t understand how Childe, someone you hated, could make you feel this aroused. No longer able to resist the temptation, you dropped his vision to reach down and dig your fingers into his wet and messy hair. You paid no attention to the broken arm that throbbed painfully with each movement you made. You began to rock your hips against his face harder, chasing the pleasure he was giving you… A familiar sensation began to build in your stomach as you realized he might actually make you cum like this.

One of Childe’s hands left your ass to slip under the hem of your shirt, traveling up to one of your breasts. HIs fingers groped your soft skin hungrily, wrapping around one nipple, pinching and rolling it with his thumb and forefinger.

You didn’t care how much you hated him anymore; you didn’t care that your attempt to humiliate and degrade him backfired in such a way. The noises his mouth made against your lower lips, the fingers teasing your breasts, the iron grip on your ass was driving you insane with pleasure.

“Aah, fuck!” You exclaimed, Childe’s voracious ministrations pushing you closer and closer to climax. Your cursing only drove him to pump in and out of your entrance harder as he sucked, making your thighs squeeze his head even tighter as the coil grew tighter and tighter in your stomach.

Childe could tell you were nearing climax; as he felt his head get crushed by your thighs, your entrance began to squeeze around his tongue and your breathing became far more erratic and labored. So, he decided to get payback; right as you seemed you were on the precipice of orgasm, he withdrew his tongue from you and instead bit down on your clit.

You let out a shrill scream at the deadly combination of pain and pleasure, Childe holding your clit hostage as you rode his face through your orgasm. Your body shook with the waves of pleasure that washed over you, undercut by the overstimulation the Harbinger was causing.

Childe quickly let go of you as you collapsed face-down onto the floor above his head; you were completely overwhelmed.

As you rested on the floor, Childe let out a small chuckle.

“I think you enjoyed it too.”

You let out a groan, responding “I hate you.”

In the throes of your orgasm, you forgot you had dropped Childe’s vision, allowing the Harbinger ample time to shuffle out from under you and pick it up.

“You know,” Childe climbed up onto his knees, gripping his Hydro vision tightly. “I had no clue I’d enjoy something like that. But coming from you, I wouldn’t expect anything less filthy.”

He leaned over your bare pussy, letting a string of spit fall from his mouth, directly landing onto your tender folds.

“S-sick bastard.” You muttered, pussy quivering as the disgusting mixture of saliva, cum, and urine fell from Childe’s mouth and onto you.

Childe didn’t respond; he merely stood up, summoning Hydro to spray his face and hair with, in a somewhat half-hearted attempt to clean himself up after being pissed on by you. He shook his head, flinging the water from his hair and onto the floor.

“You’re getting the floor all wet, you dirty pig.” You complained, slowly picking yourself off of the ground.

“You literally just pissed all over it.” Childe retorted.

“Yeah. It’s MY floor.” You rolled your eyes.

“You seriously can’t be calling me the dirty one here.” Childe responded, frustrated.

You had barely climbed to your feet when Childe was suddenly on top of you again. There was a sharp pain in both shoulders as he knocked you down to your knees, pressing your chest and face into the floor. He held your wrists behind your back so you couldn’t try to push yourself back up. In this position, your ass was in the air, your shoulders digging into the hard ground.

“What the fuck?” You complained, dizzy from being shoved down so fast. “Get your hands off of me, asshole!”

You gasped as you felt Childe’s erection brush against the underside of your thigh. One of his hands ghosted across your ass, fingers spreading the sensitive lips of your pussy.

“Look at you, so wet over a little face riding.” Childe sneered.

“You spat on me down there, you little shit! Of course it’s wet!” You groaned, trying to ignore the heat that flared between your legs as Childe’s fingers tugged at your swollen lips.

“Oh, I should have guessed you like being spit on.”

“That’s not what I meant, you disgusting-” Your words fell short at the feeling of Childe’s cock prodding into your soaked entrance. “Hey, what do you think you’re doing with that pathetic little dick?”

“Pathetic?” You could hear the smirk from Childe’s voice alone. “We’ll see if you call it pathetic after I’m done with you.”

Almost immediately, he thrust his hips – hard. They collided with your ass as he speared into you, forcing his cock all the way into you with no warning. You let out a wail at the initial burst of pain that was immediately followed by the intense pleasure of being filled to the brim. The tip of his cock reached dangerously deep into you, stretching out the very depths of your pussy, creating a bulge in your stomach that neither of you could see from your current positions.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” Childe chirped, reveling in his invasion of your hot and wet pussy as he held his hips flush against your ass.

“Fuck- y-you!” Your voice came out far more broken and pathetic than you had intended.

“That’s bold of you to say, when I’m the one balls deep inside you.” Childe responded slyly, rolling his hips, forcing a whimper out of you as his tip dragged across your sensitive walls. “Are you reconsidering your statement earlier?”

“N-no, you sick fuck.” You whined, unable to keep your voice calm in this situation.

Childe pulled out of you slowly, and you realized just how empty you felt without him all the way inside of you. Biting back the whimper that threatened to escape your lips, you held still and waited for what you knew would come next.

The Harbinger wasted no time in setting a brutal pace of thrusts that wracked your body.

“Haahh, ngh-” Only garbled moans and gasps escaped your mouth as Childe pounded into you relentlessly. His cock was somehow able to hit that oh-so sensitive spot deep inside of you over and over almost painfully hard, as if his goal were to knock you out from pleasure. Each of his thrusts forced more and more of your slick to ooze out of your pussy, turning each slap of Childe’s hips against your ass wetter and wetter.

Your shoulders ached from the force of each thrust that pushed you into the ground, back arching further as Childe reached deeper and deeper into you. Each time his dick reached deep inside of you, driving you crazy with pleasure.

Childe slowed his movements, giving you reprieve only to tease you even more.

“I see you’re not complaining much anymore, girlie.” He laughed as his hips rolled into you at a much slower pace, still intensely pleasuring you while no longer driving you insane like before.

“F-fuck you.” You managed to rasp out, your lungs still quivering.

“Is that all you can manage to say now?” Childe teased, continuing his languid rolling, sliding his cock slowly in and out of your oozing pussy.

“No- nghh~” Your response was cut off by a sudden sharp thrust into you, Childe’s hands going to your hips in order to pull you closer to him so he could reach deeper inside of you.

“Such a filthy, filthy girl.” Childe’s breathing barely seemed labored at all despite the intense snapping of his hips against your ass. “Writing porn, tearing off my clothes, pissing in my mouth…”

Squelching noises mixed in with Childe’s filthy murmurs of degradation as slick spilled out of you with each thrust. He knew you were only getting more turned on by his dirty talk as he felt your wetness begin to drip down his legs and onto the floor in thick, slippery strings.

Childe rutted into the most sensitive spot inside of you with such force that tears began to stream down your face. Your clothes were ragged and torn, hair messy from being fucked into the ground, body quivering from the intense pleasure that almost bordered on pain. Your cheek was pressed into the floor, so you could barely see Childe above you out of the corner of one eye. You couldn’t see the expression on his face, or the way his abs flexed with each smack of his hips, or the veins that bulged from his arms due to the iron grip he had on your body.

It was too soon since your last orgasm for another one to be building up in your stomach; but you couldn’t help it. You had never been filled up so much before, fucked so vigorously before, treated like such a filthy slut before and you loved it. As you shook from the power of Childe’s every thrust, stars began to dance across your vision, your eyes rolling back in your head as you fell fully into the incredible sensation.

“So soon, and you’re already crying?” Childe commented as he stared down at your pathetically trembling body and your tear-stained cheeks.

“P-please,” you blubbered, squeezing your eyes shut. “Please, it’s too much, ‘s too much, too much….”

Your cries only drove Childe to fuck you harder, threatening to bruise your ass each time his hips collided with it. Your wails turned into screams, your body unable to handle such intense stimulation as you careened over the edge of your second orgasm.

As the dam broke and the unstoppable tidal wave of pleasure crashed across your body, you lost all control – not like you had much in the first place, with Childe’s grip on your hips and the inflexible position he had put you in. You let out a shrill cry as you convulsed around Childe, each tremor of your walls against his ever-hard cock threatening overstimulation.

Childe inhaled sharply; it felt like you were trying to milk the cum out of him. He brought his thrusts down to a slow and steady pump, not to give you some rest after a brutal orgasm, but because he wanted to keep going for longer.

As soon as the pleasure began to ebb away and your pussy no longer twitched in such an intense manner, Childe picked his brutal pace back up without a second thought.

“No!” You wailed, still coming down from your climax as Childe pummeled into you. His girth stretched out your gummy cavern with each thrust, making your entire body quake, driving you insane with overstimulation.

“Come on, I thought you called my cock pathetic.” Childe sneered. “Where did all that spunk go? Don’t tell me you lost it all after you finally had a taste of it.”

He slowed down his thrusts just enough for you to regain some of your wits.

“Hnng… sick bastard…” Your words slurred together, your incoherence only turning Childe on even more.

Picking his thrusts back up, Childe decided that he wouldn’t be finishing anytime soon. He reveled in your whimpers and whines as he bullied his way into you over and over.

You felt like you were being ruined from the inside out. Minutes seemed to go by without Childe relenting at all, his rhythm still just as fast and harsh as before. Tears continued to stream down your face and blur your vision.

When you first began your regular sparring sessions with the Eleventh Fatui Harbinger, you thought he was simply an immature battle-hungry grunt for the Cryo Archon. Each interaction with him always ended up as a competition, frustrating you further and further until the only thing that made you feel better was beating him in a fight. If someone had told you that you’d end up pinned to the ground, having your brains fucked out by him, you would have called them absolutely insane.

But right here, right now, new realizations emerged. Childe wasn’t only fucking you like there was no tomorrow… He was fucking you better than you ever thought anyone could. Was it his endurance and strength as a formidable fighter? Was it the intense hatred the two of you felt for each other? You assumed it must be a combination of both, as your mind drifted off into heaven from the pure ecstasy of your sex.

You were snapped out of your daze by Childe’s sudden withdrawal from you. His cock pulled out of your entrance with a wet ‘pop’, the sudden emptiness and lack of stimulation making you whimper. His hands quickly moved to push you over onto your back, his body now hovering above yours. You stared up at his lust-filled eyes, watching Childe as he drank in your tear-stained cheeks and fucked-out expression.

Childe didn’t want this to end just yet; he grabbed the underside of your legs, fingers digging into the fat of your thighs as he pressed your knees against your chest.

“Ngh… hey…” You whimpered, squirming beneath his firm grip as he lined back up with your entrance.

Childe entered you slowly this time, reveling in the way your eyes rolled back in your head as he stretched you out once more. You let out a whine as he bottomed out, filling you up once again with his stiff and swollen cock.

“Ahh, much better.” Childe grinned, “Now I can see how much I’m ruining you.”

“No…” You murmured, staring up at his smug freckled face. Childe wasted no time in setting his pace once again, forcing a startled cry from your lips.

From this angle, it felt like he was even bigger… Your cunt squelched around him as he pounded over and over into you, each thrust making you bounce from the impact.

“I can’t wait to stuff you full of cum… ngh…” Childe groaned, his words intermixed with the lewd slaps that echoed through your study.

“No-wait, Childe, no!” You exclaimed, suddenly extremely terrified. The last thing you wanted was for that filthy Harbinger to impregnate you.

“I’d love to fuck you full of children… hahhh…” Childe seemed to be losing his composure as he pinned you down and continued to slam into you.

You tried to fight against his grip, against the force of his relentless pounding, but you were pinned down in too compromising of a position. The pleasure wracked your body and stole any control away with each thrust.

“Nghh… but not yet.” Childe muttered, his movements slowing. You whined at the lack of stimulation, some part of you hoping he would pick his pace back up, even if it risked the chance of pregnancy. You’d never admit it to anyone, not even yourself, that Childe’s desire to cum deep inside of you was incredibly hot.

“Bastard…” You grumbled, realizing this was your chance to take back control while he was too focused on preserving his stamina.

You dug both hands into the floor beside you, ignoring the sharp pain in your broken arm, deciding to kick both legs against Childe’s chest as hard as you could.

The Harbinger was too engrossed in his own pleasure to react in time. He was thrown off balance, toppling backwards onto the floor as you scrambled to climb on top of him.

“I didn’t get to choose when I came,” You grunted, positioning your hips above Childe’s erection that was messy with slick, “so you don’t get to choose when you do.”

You settled down onto his dick a little too quickly thanks to the copious volume of your own cum that coated you both. Childe let out a groan from the sudden penetration, his hands flying up to your waist. However, you immediately grabbed his wrists, gathering them into your good hand to pin them against his chest.

“You’ve been groping me all afternoon, and I don’t like that at all.” You sneered, beginning to bounce on your heels, sliding yourself up and down his length yourself. “No touching.”

Childe let out something you could only describe as a whimper. Your movements stopped for a moment, completely surprised by the noise that escaped his lips.

“What was that?” You questioned.

“Please, I wanna move.” Childe began to roll his hips beneath you, too eager for friction against his aching member. You could feel the way it throbbed inside of you, and knew he was close.

“No. Stop talking.” You grunted, your broken arm going up to his neck, once again squeezing his throat enough to cut off his supply of air. You ignored the sharp pain in your arms as you reveled in his euphoric expression of both pain and pleasure.

Childe’s dick twitched rapidly inside you, and you realized this was simply driving him further to the precipice of climax. You began to bounce again, harder this time, watching the way his mouth fell open and his eyes rolled back in his head. He was too caught up in the moment to fight against your grip on his wrists, to try to break your hand away from his neck. He was so close, he didn’t want to stop you at all.

“You look so pathetic, I love it.” You sneered. Childe’s hips moved up to meet yours with each bounce, the Harbinger chasing his orgasm despite the burn in his lungs from lack of air.

The wet slapping of skin-on-skin grew louder and louder as you both moved more and more fervently. You relied on every ounce of remaining strength to maintain your rhythm as you bounced up and down. All you needed to do was to keep going like this until you knew he was about to cum.

The Harbinger began to grow dizzy from oxygen deprivation, his vision blurring. As his rhythm suddenly faltered, hips stuttering, you knew this meant he was close.

Childe let out a startled cry as you pulled yourself off of him, your hand finally letting go of his neck to instead wrap around his cock. He coughed and gasped for air, his chest shaking as he was finally able to breathe again.

Once again, you ignored the intense pain in your broken arm as you pumped your hand up and down his cock vigorously, wanting nothing more than to drive him completely insane.

“Stop, Y/N- haah!” Childe trembled beneath your grip, his member swelling as he was finally pushed to climax against his will.

Thick ropes of white burst from him with force, splattering onto your chest before you could move to cover his tip with your hand. As time went on, more and more of his ejaculation gathered in your palm, surprising you with the sheer volume he was unloading.

“You’re cumming so much it’s disgusting.”

“Haaah…” Childe let out a breathy, half-pained sigh, “That could have been inside you.”

Despite being overwhelmed with pleasure, Childe still somehow managed to utter a comeback. You gritted your teeth angrily, fingers slipping across the tip of his oh-so-sensitive dick to gather the last drops of cum.

“I think I’d prefer it inside you.”

Climbing up, you shoved your messy fingers into his mouth, marveling at how easily he let them past his lips. You slipped them down further, pushing deeper until you could feel his throat convulse around them as he choked.

“Swallow it.” You commanded as he gagged, his tongue sliding across your fingers.

After a few moments, you pulled them out of his mouth, and he let out a groan.

“Good boy.” You sneered, wiping the mixture of ejaculation and saliva across his lips and chin.

“You’re filthy.” Childe murmured, his voice small compared to his previously confident tone.

Your body grew heavier and heavier as you came down from the high, and you could only mumble a half-coherent response.

“Says you.”

And with that, your legs finally gave out, causing you to collapse on top of Childe.

At first, the Harbinger was surprised with the way you suddenly let go of his wrists and fell face-down onto his chest. However, he began to realize just how intense and unhinged your sex had been, and understood why you’d be so exhausted.

He slowly pulled his arms out from under your body, eliciting a groan of pain from you.

“Ngh… everything hurts…” You mumbled, squeezing your eyes shut.

Childe carefully sat up, realizing his entire body hurt too. He carefully untangled his limbs from yours, resting you on the floor as he reached for his Hydro vision that had been discarded a couple of feet away.

He shuffled over to you, realizing that you weren’t only bruised and scraped from the intense hate sex, but you also had several scars that littered what skin he could see beneath your tattered clothing. They were all at various stages of healing, some more faded than others. There was a particularly gruesome one that cut across your stomach, the deep pink mark starkly contrasting the rest of your soft skin. He couldn’t help but reach down and trace the curve of the scar, his fingers ghosting over the toughened tissue.

“Who…” Childe muttered, “Who did all of this to you?”

Sighing, you turned to glare at the Harbinger.

“Most of them are actually from you.”

Childe ignored the pang of guilt in his chest at the realization that he was the one responsible for hurting you.

“Hah.” He chuckled, “I guess this is proof that I’m a better fighter than you.”

“No, it just proves you’re a fucking asshole.” You groaned.

Childe didn’t respond; instead, the deep blue glow of Hydro began to fill the room.

You were startled by the way he suddenly activated his vision, and tried to jump into action as you thought he was about to attack you.

“Hey, hold still.” Childe rested a hand on your shoulder. “This is harder when you move.”

“What are you…” You began, but the sudden lack of pain answered for you. Your mouth dropped open as you began to regain energy, completely taken aback as you learned that Childe had a completely new skill.

As the blue glow dissipated, you immediately sat straight up and glared at the Harbinger.

“You can HEAL?!” You exclaimed, staring daggers at the ginger.

“Look, I’m really not that good at it, so-”

“Why didn’t you tell me this one of the other hundred times you’ve injured me?!” You shouted, wobbling as you climbed to your feet. “I bet you enjoyed watching me limp home after each sparring match!”

“I told you, I’m not all that confident at it, and healing without proper training can do more harm than good.” Childe responded. “However, watching you limp around after kicking my ass actually made me feel a little better.”

“You ass!” You exclaimed, winding back a fist to lay a punch on the Harbinger. However, you were quickly swept off of your feet, and found yourself in his arms instead. “Hey!”

“Alright, we’re going to see a doctor.”

“What? You just healed me, I’m fine!” You complained, squirming.

“Your arm looks like it’s even more broken than it was this morning.” Childe shook his head. “You’re going to the doctor.”

“Not like this!”

“Of course, of course, I’m getting us some clothes first.” Childe sighed. “Now which way is your closet?”

“It’s in my bedroom at the top of the stairs.” You mumbled, defeated.

~~~

“So, how is she?”

“You know, you don’t have to be in the same room while I examine Miss Y/N.” Baizhu couldn’t help his venomous tone as he glared at the Harbinger sitting beside you.

“Uhm, yeah, I agree.” You responded.

“You’ve somehow managed to make the fracture even worse.” Baizhu paused to let out an exasperated sigh. “I’ve re-dressed the arm, because somehow you’ve managed to destroy the bandages in a single day, and I recommend a strict ban on whatever activities are going on between the two of you.”

“Excuse me?” You questioned. “I don’t even have the manuscript done yet!”

“Well, I suggest you politely request an extension to your deadline.” Baizhu spoke smoothly yet sternly, moving to his desk and scribbling down some illegible symbols in his prescription pad. “And I have a couple more medications for you to take, so I’ll help you out at the front counter.”

Baizhu sauntered out of the room, shutting the door behind him. He was far too fed up with the reckless endangerment of your own body.

You let out a sigh of defeat, hanging your head as you stood up from the examination table. You felt Childe’s hand ghost along the small of your back as you walked, as if he were trying to help you along or prevent you from falling. You rolled your eyes and swatted his arm away angrily.

“I can walk on my own, idiot.” You grumbled.

“Sorry,” Childe laughed awkwardly. “You’re kinda really injured, you know.”

“No thanks to you, asshole.” You rolled your eyes as you responded sarcastically. The two of you walked out of the examination room and towards the front counter of the pharmacy, where the very short Qiqi was waiting.

“Do you have a prescription?” She asked monotonically, her voice lethargic.

“It’s right here, Qiqi.” Baizhu smiled sweetly as he handed her several papers.

“Okay.” Qiqi responded, turning around and rummaging through the drawers behind her. She pulled the correct medicines out, glancing up at Baizhu who gave her a nod of approval before standing up on her tip-toes to slide them across the counter.

“Thanks, Qiqi.” You responded, picking up the medicines.

“Payment please.” Qiqi looked down, as if she were thinking about something for a moment before looking back up, peering over the countertop at you. “16,750 Mora.”

“Oh.” You murmured, reaching into your pocket for your wallet.

“No, don’t worry about it.” Childe placed his hand over yours, instead tossing his own coin purse onto the counter.

“Excuse me.” Baizhu spoke. “Is there a reason you feel obligated to pay for miss Y/N’s medicine?”

“No, not at all.” Chide smiled. “I’m just being generous.”

“Paying for someone else’s medical treatment implies guilt. Are you doing this as a way of apologizing for hurting her?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Childe tried to smile sweetly at the pharmacist, but his eye began to twitch.

“If you are, I suggest you use your words instead and save any generosity for a dinner date. Or a designer dress. Or a luxurious mansion, after everything you’ve put my dear Y/N through.” The hatred practically dripped from Baizhu’s words.

“Uhm, Baizhu, I think I’m alright.” You clutched the medicines. “I can pay for the medicine.”

“No, Childe is paying.” Baizhu smiled sweetly, a thin facade for the hatred he exuded.

“It’s my pleasure.” Childe smiled in response, just hoping to get the hell out of the pharmacy as soon as possible.

“Oh, I’m sure it is.” Baizhu snapped.

“I’ll take the payment, now.” Qiqi droned, opening up the coin purse, taking out the exact change. “Thank you for your patronage.”

“Actually, Baizhu.” You turned to face the green-haired Pharmacist, “Are you able to run Bubu without Qiqi here?”

“Uhm, technically yes, why do you ask?” He tilted his head to the side.

You immediately turned to face the small zombie behind the counter.

“Qiqi, would you like some coconut milk?”

~~~

“Sir Tartaglia, how is your paperwork going-”

Ekaterina opened the door to Childe’s office, but instead of the messy head of ginger hair she normally saw hunched over the desk, she saw a young purple-haired girl who could barely see over the desk.

“Sum total debt, six hundred thousand and fifty seven mora… Interest accrued, thirty seven thousand, two hundred and eighty mora… confirm the right amount…”

“Uhm, who are you?”

Qiqi paused her vigorous scribbling across the pages of paperwork, turning to face the shocked receptionist.

“Qiqi will finish all the papers, in exchange for Cocogoat milk.”

Ekaterina stood there, mouth hanging open, completely shocked.

“I see Master Tartaglia has found yet another way to weasel out of paperwork.” She huffed, turning around and closing the door behind her to give the small child some peace and quiet. “Now…” She hummed, “Just what is the young Master up to…?”

~~~

At the same time, you were standing back in your water-logged and somewhat destroyed study, standing behind Childe who sat at your desk, typing away.

“You ruined my clothes, comma, so it’s only fair that I ruin yours, period. You reached down and hooked your fingers around the knight’s undergarments, comma, tearing them away from his waist, period.”

Childe’s fingers paused, despite your lengthy dictation. He turned his head to stare up at you with a smirk.

“Are you by any chance, perhaps, gaining inspiration from what we did yesterday?”

His teasing tone was mildly infuriating. You dug your fingers into his messy hair, forcing his head to face the typewriter once again.

“Your job is to write what I dictate.” You spat. “If I have to repeat myself again, I’m going to choke you out.”

“You know, that actually sounds kinda hot.” Childe jested.

“I don’t know if it will be once you pass out.” You threatened, hand sliding down the back of his head to grip the sides of his neck.

“Alright, alright.” Childe shook his head, shivering. “I remember every word. Don’t worry.”

“Good.” You smiled, nodding. “I’ll continue, now.”

~~~

#childe genshin x reader #childe x y/n #genshin childe #childe x you #childe x reader #childe #genshin #tartaglia #genshin impact #tartaglia x y/n #tartaglia x reader #baizhu #qiqi #baizhu x reader #genshin tartagalia #tartagalia x you #tartagalia smut #childe tartagalia

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natashasnoodle · 1 year

Note

Natasha's reaction to reader who wants to learn everything about guns as they want to enter shooting competitions or increase their chances of survival?

Fluffy Pyjamas | Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

Masterlist | N.R Masterlist

Words: 1.4k

Warnings: Firearm mentions

Thank you for the request! I'm so sorry that it took so long, I got so busy with university and other things that I took a brief hiatus from doing my requests and was very limited with writing in general, but I'm now getting back around to getting through my requests so this is the perfect time if anyone wants to send any more in <3

✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

Natasha’s fingers drummed against the keyboard of her laptop as she typed report after report, stressed from being swarmed with work. It seemed as though recently it was all that she had been doing. From the moment she woke up until the moment she went to sleep she was either training, strategising, or writing reports. It was exhausting.

She was most certainly burnt out, coffees no longer helping to keep her energised. She needed to see you - you were one of the main things on her mind, other than the copious amounts of deadlines. You lived in a small apartment about half an hour from the compound, and she had not been able to visit you for weeks. Her jaw clenched as her typing paused when thinking about you. She was sick of having half an hour of phone calls each night. It wasn’t enough for her.

With her lifestyle, Natasha was always worried about joining the dating scene. Many enemies had accumulated over the years, and she never wanted to put anyone who she would grow to love at risk. But then you popped up.

Literally.

At the time she met you, you worked in a pet store as a cashier and consultant. She was waiting by the counter, cat treats in hand for her cat, Liho. For a moment no one was behind the counter, she assumed that whoever was working it had perhaps gone out back to get some more supplies. Turns out it was you working, and you were crouched behind the counter to try and find something that you needed, and when hearing Nat put the treats on the counter, you stood up swiftly with an enthusiastic “Hi there!”, causing Nat to absolutely crap herself.

Things developed from there, and a year later you were going strong. Natasha absolutely doted on you. You were her person, you were the first person that she had ever gotten to call hers. And so, not being able to see you was killing her. A few times during some sleepy late-night calls you suggested visiting the compound, but she always refused. The compound was a mysterious place to you. Nat had never let you visit, claiming it wasn’t safe for you. With her logic, if you were seen entering the Avengers compound then any enemies that might be monitoring the team would see that you were a trusted person to them—trusted enough to be allowed entry into the compound.

She didn’t want them to use you against her. She wanted to keep you safe.

The idea of you being introduced to her world sent chills up her spine. So the answer always remained - ‘no’ - and she planned to keep it that way. Her fingers continued tapping the keys at a high speed, wanting to be done with the reports in as little time as possible. It was Friday night… so if she finished the reports by at least 8pm, she could go to yours and spend the night she planned in her head, shooting you a quick message to make sure you’d be in tonight before continuing with work.

When you replied stating that you’d be in and that because of her message, you were expecting Nat to come and visit her tonight, she chuckled and tried to work even faster than she had ever done before.

Hours later, she was in the car to your complex and pulling into the guest spot for your apartment. With a pep in her step, she practically sprinted up the stairs and tries to just walk through your front door, twisting the handle and then walking into the door, bouncing back slightly. She winced and nursed her head, before knocking on the door, cursing herself for letting the excitement make her forget the simple fact that your door is always locked.

When she hears shuffling noises through the door she becomes ecstatic. Within moments the door creaks open, thanks to the old building that you live in, and she’s seeing your face in person for the first time in weeks. Without thinking she rushed forward and engulfed you in a hug, pressing her face into the crook of your neck. Her lips twitched upward at hearing your giggles, feeling your arms wrap around her torso.

She was home.

“Come on, come on. It’s fluffy pyjama time”, you grinned, and ushered her in, snorting when she rolled her eyes. Natasha had a “reputation to uphold”, and so pretended not to be interested in soft things like cuddling in fluffy pyjamas. She secretly loved it though, but pretended to just participate for your benefit.

So, with a groan that did not match her internal dialogue, she complied and changed into a pair of fluffy pyjamas you kept for her, and immediately jumped into bed, grabbing you by the hips and pulling your back into her front.

A contented sigh escaped her lips as she was reminded just how well you slotted against her front, and she pressed her forehead against the nape of your neck, pressing a soft kiss there occasionally as the two of you soaked up all of the time together you had missed recently.

A while passed when she just held you and had honestly thought that you’d gone to sleep as you had been so still, so she was ever so slightly startled when you gently spoke her name. “Hmm?”, she pretended that her heart rate wasn’t slightly elevated from the little spook you gave her.

She thought that you were just going to give her some weird late-night thought as you normally did. Natasha loved those late-night thoughts, they always made her chuckle. However, when you turned around to face her in her arms, a small frown was etched onto her forehead, “You okay?”.

“Um… I’ve been thinking and it’s just with your job getting more dangerous recently, I’ve been getting more paranoid about people in public. I might be going crazy but I always feel like there’s someone watching me or something…”.

You didn’t even get to finish your statement before you saw Nat’s jaw clench as she looked at you with indifferent eyes. Before speaking again you gulped, knowing that she wasn’t annoyed at you, but she had always been insecure about how the job affected you. “I don’t think I’m in danger or anything, it’s just that, you know trying to go about as normal is hard when feeling so… exposed, I guess?”.

Her eyes softened slightly. Anyone else wouldn’t have noticed.

“What do you suggest we do?”, she hugged you tighter before and tucked some stray hairs behind your ear.

“I was thinking that maybe you could teach me some self-defence… and perhaps how to use a firearm? I don’t want to be one of those people who carry them around because you know, contributing to societal dangers and shit, but I’d feel a bit better if I just knew how to use one, I don’t know, can’t explain it”.

Natasha’s entire body tensed.

Her eyes closed as she released a breath through her nose and looked at you again, her eyes searching you, absorbing you. This conversation was a harsh reminder that she couldn’t always protect you. That you weren’t 100% safe.

It reminded her that someone loving her came at a price.

“Sure”, she croaked out, failing at acting nonchalant. There was no way she wanted you to be handling firearms even if it was only in a training room. There was also no way that she wanted you to be seen stepping foot into the compound.

But… there was also no way that she wanted you to feel unsafe when leaving your home, and so even with all these doubts, she wholeheartedly agreed to it, wanting you to feel safe.

A grin appeared on your face as you pressed a short yet deep kiss to her lips, pulling away to rest your head against her chest, “Thank you”. Natasha couldn’t help the blush that appeared on her cheeks as she rested her head against yours.

Sleep didn’t come easy that night, she was thinking about the conversation. You were the only thing that didn’t remind her of her upbringing, of her career. You were the breath of fresh air she had always craved, but she knew that this didn’t change anything, not really.

Yes, the little bubble that she thought she had placed you in was broken, but to her surprise, she didn’t want to run away. She didn’t want to self-sabotage the whole thing to “keep you safe”. You had reassured her again and again that you were safest when with her, and for the first time, she allowed herself to believe that.

She wasn’t a burden to love, she could be someone’s safe space.

And with that… she let herself drift off to sleep, a small smile on her face as she realised how comfy she was. All thanks to you… and the fluffy pyjamas.

✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

Comment if you want to be added to the taglist <3

Taglist:@fxckmiup @itsdoni @rob1nbuckl3ys

Natasha Romanoff Taglist:@diaryoflife @unlady-like-12-25-36 @doveromanoff

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x female!reader #hurt/comfort

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ficfanatictrf · 2 years

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GIVE ME MORE VIKTOR X READER ANGST!!!! 😭 YOU WRITE IT SO WELL!! can I get something where he's being cold and distant to his s/o and not spending time with them at all even tho they are trying to do things with him, and then BOOM one day he notices another person trying to warm up his s/o and get to them ?? Perhaps a happy ending happens after a few misunderstandings and viktor finally being soft and spending time with them PLLEASEE AND THANK YOU

The Green Eyed Demon

Summary: After so long in your relationship trying to bite your tongue, it takes a green eyed demon to finally get the two of you to talk about the things you needed to.

Word Count : 4.5 K

From the start, your relationship with the inventor was anything but normal. Dating wasn’t really something that the two of you did, mostly spending time with each other when it had something to do with your shared interests.

Seminars on recent scientific discoveries, workshops on how to use new equipment, and the almost daily coffee breaks were the closest things to ‘dates’ you would imagine.

And it had been perfect, well perfectly acceptable. Yes, you were a romantic at heart and you had hoped that maybe Viktor would have spent a little bit of time when it came to holidays. However, after not doing anything with you on the first couple of them that came around during your time together, you were just going to have to swallow the fact that Viktor did not view them the same way you did.

So you dealt with it, watched as couples would exchange gifts and chocolate, how some would surprise their lovers with flowers or little treats. All the while Viktor never really seemed to want any of those things. Even when you yourself had tried to be the one to give him gifts, you found that it had only been a bother.

You had spent far longer at the flower shop than you had wanted to, but after allowing the store owner to explain that the flowers had certain meanings you had wanted to create a bouquet that would tell the man of your feelings correctly.

The flowers were to try and brighten his workspace, knowing that he had been working like crazy to finish before a deadline. Since you knew that your time together wouldn’t be possible, you had hoped that maybe seeing something that both reminded him of you and your belief in him would help.

So you had gotten hydrangeas for good luck, chamomile for patience in adversity, clematis for mental beauty, goldenrod for encouragement and finally a single red rose for love.

You knew that he probably wouldn’t know a single thing about flowers, but it was a secret message for you to know about. So as you slipped into the lab, finding him hunched over his desk, you softly placed the vase on a free part in the corner.

“Why are you putting that nonsense on my workstation?”

Well, that wasn’t what you were expecting to be his greeting. The tiredness was clear from his voice but that didn’t help you keep the hurt from creeping in. He was just blunt when he was tired, he wasn’t really meaning that your actions were nonsense.

“Ah, well, I wanted to brighten up your lab. I know we can’t spend much time together-”

“So you interrupt to have this conversation on flowers?” He interrupted, still not having looked up from the paper that he was quickly scribbling on. “I do believe I told you about the deadline and that I wouldn’t have time for your distractions.”

“...you said we wouldn’t have time for dates…not distractions..” You mumbled softly, Viktor’s eyes snapping up to yours with irritation at the sass that you had responded with. Instantly, you wanted to crawl under the desk and hide, it not being often that you earned his ire.

“So you’ve come not only to disrupt my work, to waste space on my desk with useless plants, but now you also want to start an argument over the specifics of wording?” There was a heavy sigh, his hand coming up to rub at his temple. “Just get out, before you make things worse, just go”

And so you had. With your metaphorical tail between your legs, you headed for the door. Glancing back, you wondered if Viktor could glance your way, but your heart broke instead. He was up, carrying the flowers to the trash bin only a few feet away from him before returning to his desk. His eyes not even flicking your way for a moment as you stood in the doorway watching.

So from then on, you hadn’t wasted your time on trying to be romantic. And as much as it killed you every time to see couples across campus doing the things that you wished you could do yourself, you continued to tell yourself that you were happy.

Once the deadline for the project had passed, Viktor had been so sweet and kind. He had apologized for his harshness and had made an effort to make it up to you for the weeks after. However, he also quickly would fall back into his old patterns.

Every time there was a project deadline, founders day, an important presentation, everytime he would become distant and harsh. At first it was only a few times a year, around the time that everyone was a little hostile as they dealt with finals. However, as soon as he got into working with Hextech and Jayce, he almost always had a project that he was working on.

Instead of having weeks of the Viktor you had fallen in love with, you would get days…if that.

Slowly, it had started to feel like you were dating in name alone. It just felt weird to say that you were Viktor’s partner at the galas he would bring you too, having not even remembered the last time the two of you had spent time alone together.

Everyone had found it adorable that the two of you had come to the party with your colors matching, you being the only one to know that it was because Viktor had sent you to the store with his money and instructions to have the two of you match. It wasn’t romantic like they seemed to believe, and even though you had wished to have these moments…it didn’t feel the same knowing that he was simply doing it so Jayce would get off his back.

As the gala went on, you found yourself silently watching the dancers as you stood alone. Just like every gala before.

It was always the same, the four of you would arrive. Jayce with Mel, and you with Viktor. The two men would go off and talk to investors and patrons, before Jayce would go enjoy the party with Mel and Viktor snuck off to head back to the lab.

As you sipped from your champagne, you watched as Jayce and Mel danced, smiling at each other with clear affection that you couldn’t remember the last time feeling. Quickly downing the glass, you had been about to just call it a night and head home alone as you always did. However, as you went to turn, you found yourself nearly running into someone who had been moments away from speaking to you.

“Oh, I’m so sorry”

The man hastily maneuvered the two drinks he had been holding out of the way, making sure that the little drops of liquid that escaped wouldn’t end up on your dress. And as he looked over you to make sure that he hadn’t spilled any, you couldn’t help but look him over as well.

Soft brunette hair, freckles painted across his cheeks, and bright green eyes. There were aspects of him that reminded you of the man who had abandoned you that evening, but of the version that you had met at the beginning of your relationship. The nervous energy he had as he held out the drink to you, not seeming to really know what to say at first. It was so similar to how Viktor used to approach you all those years ago.

“I..I uh, I saw that you were almost done with your glass.” He mumbled, gesturing towards the empty one you were holding. It was then that he seemed to remember that he had never introduced himself, giving a hasty bow before clearing his throat.

“Apologies, I am Philip Ferros, it is a pleasure to finally speak with you” As he bowed, you couldn’t help feeling a little nervous as well from the last name. Anyone in Piltover knew about the higher families, so to have one of them speaking with you was a little nerve wracking.

“The pleasure is all mine” Introducing yourself, you couldn’t help the heat that rose to your cheeks as he repeated it with a smile. When was the last time that you’d blushed?

As the two of you stood to the side, you quickly found your nervousness melt away to a friendly conversation. Finding that when you went home that night, that the small bit of kindness that was shared with you was enough to hold back the pain of finding your bed empty once more.

Every few months when there was another gala, the two of you would meet. The conversations were light, mostly to allow the two of you to be doing something other than just silently standing and watching. But over time even he had noticed how you always came together with Viktor to only end up leaving alone.

“So, who is the fellow you come here with, the one with the cane?” He had asked suddenly, nearly causing you to choke on the drink that you had been sipping from.

“W-What? Oh, that would be Viktor. He…well, I am sure you know of Hextech” You asked, seeing him nod. “Well, he is the other half of the partnership and isn't the best with large crowds.” You had started before smiling a little as Philip simply allowed you the space to speak what you wished.

“But you wouldn’t believe how smart he is. I’ve never seen anyone able to work as hard as he does, to be so dedicated to his work, to helping people. I’ve known him for years and even back then it was clear he would do big things.”

There was a soft hum from the man beside you, seeing how you lit up the moment the conversation was about the man.

“And yet, you always leave alone?”

Even if his words had been said in a soft way, they didn’t hurt any less, something that he must have realized as he continued.

“Not that it is any of my business, you don’t need to answer that if you don’t want to. I apologize”

“No…no” You started, not wanting him to feel bad about speaking a simple fact. “You have nothing to apologize for”

Silently, the two of you watched the dancing, it not being till three songs later that you finally spoke.

“Viktor has always been rather single minded. When he is dedicated to something, that thing is the only thing on his mind till he completes it.” You knew that Philip was looking at you now, but you couldn’t get yourself to meet his gaze, knowing that if you did you might just start to cry.

“In the beginning of our relationship, there were days I felt what it was like to be the thing in his mind. He would make little gadgets to brighten my day or bring me lunch from my favorite cafe. Which, since he has the cane, made it all the more special as walking is not really something he likes to do.”

You chuckled at the memory, thinking back to how he had been so nervous about the food being cold since he had needed to take breaks on his way back. How Viktor had needed to sit down for a while after he had gotten there as his leg was throbbing in pain. It had been one of the sweetest things he had ever done for you.

“But he doesn’t do those things anymore, does he?”

Once again, his question cut through your like a knife through butter. This time, the tears you had been keeping inside for months now finally breaking free. Not even explaining yourself or wishing the man a good evening, you were out the door to return home.

After that, you had made sure to avoid going to the galas. You would feign sick whenever they would come. Viktor had noticed, but hadn’t voiced any concern about it, always just wishing that you felt better before heading out for the evening.

You didn’t want to hear anymore from Philip about your relationship. You had been trying your hardest to not allow Viktor’s complete disregard for you to heart. However, you knew that if Philip brought it up, it would just shatter what was left of your heart.

Though as the next founders day was coming up, Viktor had asked specifically if you could do your best to attend. Because of this, you couldn’t bring yourself to fake being sick again, heading to the event with nervousness.

Everything seemed to be going the same, the inventions being presented, Viktor and Jayce heading off to talk to the people they needed too. However, when you suddenly found a hand slip around your waist, you nearly screamed as you turned to find Viktor.

“Ah, apologies. I didn’t mean to frighten you” The man softly spoke, giving a lopsided smile before placing a kiss on your temple.

It was a little jarring to have him there, but in a good way. And as you leaned into his touch, you finally felt at home. This was what you had been missing for so long and as you soaked in his affection, he only pulled you closer.

“I’ve missed you…so much, Solnyshko.”

“Oh, so this must be the ever absent Viktor?”

Philip’s voice sent dread through your spine, normally at this point of the party, the two of you would meet to idly chat, but for once Viktor hadn’t slipped away like he normally did. Like always, two glasses were in Philip’s hands, having been about to hand you one of them before Viktor reached out to snatch it first.

“And you must not be relevant enough to mention as they have never spoken about you” As he spoke, he placed the glass on one of the trays a server was carrying, effectively getting rid of the offending offering.

“It’s no doubt you haven’t heard about me.” Philip muttered, taking a sip from his drink as his eyes narrowed. “That would have required talking with them, a thing they’ve said hasn’t really happened all that often.”

You could feel Viktor’s hand on your waist tense up, his eyes flickering to you as Philip downed the rest of his own glass.

“But no matter, Philip Ferros, I would say it is a pleasure to meet you but I’ve found it rather rude to lie” You watched as Viktor’s jaw tightened with anger, no doubt debating on just how much he would be willing to ruin Hextech’s future by insulting someone from a prominent family.

“Philip…that’s enough..” Your words fell on deaf ears, the man only smiling as he gestured towards you.

“It has been a great honor to have spent the previous events with your partner. When they stopped coming I couldn’t help but grow worried for my friend, which I am sure you are aware of”

There seemed to be so much information that the two of them were aware of that you hadn’t the clue about. But from what Philip was saying, something clicked in Viktor’s mind.

“So, that was why Jayce had been so insistent..” He mumbled softly to himself, his grip on your waist tightening as he pulled you closer to himself.

“I asked my father to put in a request to Mr.Talis for them to be present and it seems like that request was honored. After all, he does donate a great deal to your work.”

Philip’s words chilled you to the bone, reminding you of just who you had been talking to when you had divulged your worries and concerns. You wished to end this conversation, not liking the tone that the man was directing towards your lover.

“However, now that you are present as well, I can finally ask if it would be agreeable for your partner and I to have a dance”

It seemed that was the final bit of pushing that Viktor just wasn’t going to take. To hell with the money that they were receiving, he wouldn’t take a single coin if that meant having to stand aside.

“It is not agreeable and you will not be dancing with them” He hissed, his hand moving from your waist down to your hand, already moving to lead you away from the man.

“Then I guess they will never be able to dance at one of these events, seeing as you never will. Chem-stunted gutter rat”

You had been about to turn and snap at the man, whatever friendship the two of you had shared was ruined by the disrespect being shown. However, instead of responding like you had expected, Viktor only smiled over at you, letting go of your hand to hold out his arm for you to take instead.

“Would you do the honor of dancing with me?”

You were a blushing mess as you allowed yourself to be led out onto the dance floor. Even seeing Jayce look over at the two of you with a look of excitement.

As the music started, you were surprised to find how well Viktor was at the steps, leaving you feeling like you were floating around the room as he carefully led you. It had felt like a dream until you caught sight of Philip, your anger returning.

“Don’t pay any mind to him.”

“And why shouldn’t I? After what he said to you”

“Because he is inconsequential. Many won’t like me, that doesn’t change anything for me…unless it does for you?” He asked softly, throwing you for a loop as to why he was asking that.

“Why would that change anything for me?”

“Come now, I know of your….involvement with him. You didn’t really try to hide it, though before you think I am upset, I trusted you to know where the line was between friendship and something inappropriate. I never once was worried about your actions, it was his that were, well, unpredictable.” As the song ended, you had expected him to lead the two of you off the dance floor, only for him to give you a small smile as he led you into the next dance.

“When he put in the request for you to partake, using his influence in the hopes of you being here, I felt I needed to step in”

Sighing, you finally answered his question from before, resting your head on his shoulder as the two of you danced slowly to the song being played.

“Then, yes, it did bother me. I thought we could have been friends, I enjoyed having someone to talk with when here…I know you hate these events so I didn’t want to make you feel bad for leaving early”

There was a soft hum from the man, it only being once the song was about over that he asked the question he had been slowly stewing on.

“How often do you push down your feelings and desires in the hopes of not bothering me?”

Pulling away to look up at him. You only saw kindness and love on his face when you had expected to see him upset. And even though you had been about to deny it, as you felt a kiss being placed to your forehead you couldn’t find it in you to lie to him.

“...everyday…”

Even though the song was still going, dancers all around you both, Viktor came to a sudden halt as he took in exactly what that meant.

“E-Everyday?”

His tone was panicked, even if he also had a look like when he had a breakthrough when dealing with his own inventions.

“I’m sorry to cut tonight short, darling” He whispered, already starting to lead you out and away from any prying eyes and ears that might want to snoop into the conversation you would about to have.

It was only once you two had returned home, once the door was locked behind you both that the man broke.

“Why didn’t you say anything?! For weeks, no, months I have been thinking that you were slowly growing out of love for me! You hardly come to the lab anymore and if you do you never seem to truly be happy to be there!”

You watched as he was soon pacing back and forth, his voice raising not because he was yelling at you but because of the onslaught of emotions that he was going through. However, it was almost funny to hear how he thought you were falling out of love with him when he had been the one pulling away for so long.

“And why would I have been happy to be at your lab, hearing how often I was in the way or that the gifts I brought to you were annoyances.” At your words he paused, able to name all the times you had come in excited with something for him only for him to disregard it…or even complain about it.

“I invited you multiple times on dates and every time you shot them down. So I stopped asking, I tried to do things for the holidays and you always had a reason as to why my idea was silly, a waste of time. So I stopped.” You could feel the tears building, trying as hard as you could to keep them down.

“I have wanted so much from you, yet every time I hinted at it, you would push me away. So I stopped asking, I stopped hoping…”

The tears ended up slipping free anyway, unable to see just how distraught Viktor looked as he watched you break in front of him.

“I know you love me. I do. When you have the time and energy to spend with me, you are nothing but perfect and sweet. You are the most giving in bed and I feel safest when I am in your arms…but those moments are so rare. I knew getting with you that you would be busy, you have always been busy. I just…” You sniffed, hand coming up to try and soak up the tears spilling from your eyes.

“I just wish I didn’t want so much. If I could just be fine with what you were offering me, we would be perfectly happy…”

“Stop that, don’t you dare blame yourself for this” Viktor cut in. You felt the gentle touch of warm cloth against your cheeks. Peering through your tears, you saw that Viktor had pulled out the handkerchief from his breast pocket and was trying to help with your tears.

“Your needs are not something to be apologizing for. Yes, I wish you had told me sooner…but I am at fault for not being able to take care of your emotional needs.” As he helped clean your face, he gave you such a sad smile. This was why you hadn’t wanted to tell him what he was doing wasn’t enough, Viktor always felt like he wasn’t enough and now you were just making his assumption correct. And damn it, did it break your heart.

“A fine lover I turned out to be, my partner not ever feeling able to tell me that they're unhappy…”

“I didn’t tell you because I knew you would blame yourself”

“So instead of us talking about it, figuring out a system that would make us both happy, you decided to be miserable all by yourself?!”

The tears that had been slowly stopping on hit once more, this time actually having Viktor yelling at you.

“...I-I’m sorry…I just didn’t know what else to do. I didn’t tell you at first because it was the beginning of our relationship and I didn’t want you to break up with me for being needy…and then as time went on…I couldn’t tell you, since that was how things had always been”

Gently shushing you, the inventor pulled you in, wrapping his arms tightly around you. He wasn’t going to say a word, not until you were a bit calming so that he wasn’t triggering you again.

“Alright, so dates? Holidays…and what else was it?” He asked softly, leaning over slightly so that he could look you in the eyes.

“....I’m not asking you to change, you don’t need t-…”

“I wasn’t asking if I needed too, I am asking what else you need from me. And you aren’t asking, I’m offering.”

Slowly, with constant reassurances, Viktor was able to pull out all the things that you had been wanting from him. Some of which, you came to discover he had wanted to do but had been too nervous that you wouldn’t like it.

Dates between the two of you became a weekly scheduled thing, Jayce still finding it entertaining to hear Viktor saying that he had to leave early for ‘date night’. He made an effort to be as friendly and welcoming when you visited, even when he was exhausted, and above all, he never left any of the events early anymore.

However, on the morning of your birthday you found that he wasn’t in bed like you had expected. As you glanced around the room, you couldn’t help the disappointment that ate away at you as it was clear that Viktor hadn’t done anything.

Slowly you got ready, opting to skip breakfast as you just didn’t think you could keep it down with the sick feeling you were experiencing.

The walk to your job was slow, truly not wanting to go through another birthday where your co-workers would ask what Viktor had done…only for you to have to make up some lie so that they didn’t worry about your relationship.

As you entered, you found the whole place dark, confused as to why you were there before anyone else. And as you turned on the lights, you were met with the one person you were not expecting to see.

In the middle of the room, holding a cake that clearly looked like it had been made by the man who was holding it…seeing as his clothes had cake batter and icing in places and…was that icing in his hair?

“H-Happy Birthday” He stuttered, looking second away from dropping the cake in his hands from sheer nerves as he stood there. “I wasn’t sure if this was…well…good enough. I have gifts, mostly ones that I made…but I didn’t think that would sufficient”

In a few quick strides you nearly sprinted the space between the two of you, taking the cake and setting it down on the nearest table so that you could kiss the living daylights out of this adorable man.

As you pulled away, finding him looking completely dazed, a soft chuckle bubbled forth as it had indeed been frosting in his hair.

“Viktor, this was perfect. You are perfect"

#my first request #i hope i did it right #ficfanatictrf #ficfanatic #viktor #viktor league of legends #arcane viktor x reader #viktor arcane x reader #viktor x reader #viktor x reader arcane #viktor x y/n #viktor x you #viktor my beloved

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neonghostcat · 2 years

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I have come to the following conclusion:

I am not allowed to estimate the length of any of my LiuShen fanfics. I seem to be literally incapable of it.

Even my four seasons story (Hundred Winters Grove) almost became more than four chapters, because I could not help myself. It did become something like double the estimated word count. And this was after I had originally thought I might be able to contain it in a single longish oneshot.

I'm normally fairly good at estimating how long a story will be, did you know? Sure, there's a margin of error either way, but I usually have a fairly good guess a chapter or two in, and that margin of error shrinks with each chapter.

LiuShen? It does the opposite.

(Behind the cut I try to rant entertainingly about my current project.)

This is what it's been like for The Guardian Ghost and the Bookish Fairy so far.

Original thought: How about a 4+1 oneshot of a ghost Liu Qingge protecting Shen Qingqiu? Here is a list of the four times he can protect SQQ. Okay, no, 5. Because that'd be funny. Okay, a 5+1 longish oneshot for my fake birthday! Perfect! I'll just skate quickly across the scenes and focus on the funny, cute, or romantic moments and done. Gosh, having this list is going to make it so much easier!

Next: No, it's taken over 1.5k words to just for Liu Qingge's qi deviation scene. We're looking at a multi-chapter for sure. Three chapters, then? Friendly thoughts (since he knows it's not the original SQQ), then attraction, and then resolution? Okay, I'll just map out the chapters for that and... outline complete. Now I may resume writing.

Then: This chapter is running a little long. I'll break this one into two parts. So it'll be four chapters. That'll cover the entirety of August, which is great, TBH. I should have a good idea of where I am in Cultivate by the time the last chapter posts.

Yesterday: ...how is my outline now at six chapters? How. I am running out of ways to title the chapters since my previous systems have broken. FFS, whatever, as long as it's vaguely the right idea go for it. At this rate, I'm going to have to add the tag "slow burn" to my tags draft. I refuse to tag this 5+1 because that idea is dead by now. Everything is out of control. Characters who were basically meant to be walk-on roles have entire scenes now. Everything is on fire. Dogs and cats living together - MASS HYSTERIA.

...on the plus side, I'm enjoying the story.

It's not nearly as funny as intended (scenes originally intended to be less than 500 words to reach a punchline are now treated more seriously or altered to be more than a goof), but it has its moments.

And, as I said, characters meant to be walk-on roles the equivalent of Guard 3 now have scenes.

Luo Binghe now merits his own tag mentions (Gray Lotus Luò Bīnghé & No Vinegar - just to confirm that he's not a bitter love rival in this fic... though maybe 'No Vinegar' isn't entirely accurate, just it's not Binghe who suffers from it). Shang Qinghua has the biggest role in this fic than he has in any of my fics so far. Perhaps put together. He'll go in the characters list. Liu Mingyan may also merit being tagged in the characters list...

TBH, it's a much better fic for it, but I despair of myself. This is exactly why Cultivate will be a monster. (But probably a monster that will get me chapters to post all through November while I do NaNoWriMo for a different story.)

I'm not in as much pain so I've been able to spend more time at the keyboard, which is useful because the wordcount keeps growing and the deadline moves ever-closer. And I do hate posting fics where I haven't finished them first. I'm currently on-track to finish the story by the end of the month, but possibly only if I continue to write ~3.5k+ a day this weekend. (At least I still have a week between the end of the month and posting day, just in case.)

PS: The scene that justified the Grey Lotus Binghe tag? I'm rather sad readers have to wait for that one.

#fanfic planning #Story: The Guardian Ghost

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walkintrafficjam · 8 months

Text

The Productivity Hellscape

I have a really bad habit. Before each semester start, I'll say, "I'm going to take it easy this time" but I never do. In fact, in one of my semesters, I took 18 units w/ extracurricular activities. Same thing in senior year of high school. I took 3 AP classes while working at Starbucks.

Do you ever feel like you're not advancing fast enough? I overwork because I feel inadequate. "Everyone is so much more talented and better than me," I think, "Gotta shove 4 extra jobs down my throat so I can feel like I'm good enough." Honestly if my body didn't literally crumble, I would do it.

I'm almost impressed by it. I have literally work on my homework in the Emergency Room. Even near death, I probably would still work on my homework. Even in my after life, I would send an email to my teacher to apologize for being dead... because I didn't complete my homework.

You get the point.

truth be told, I wasn't always like this. In fact, I was raised and trained like this. When I was a kid, my teacher would praised the kids who did well. Our school work differently than in America. Our final year test grading scale is based on mistakes. You have 10 points. Every mistakes is -1 point. Once you make 4 mistakes, you're out of the game. As in, good luck repeating the whole school year again. I was slap and hit too. Even simple "mistake" like not coloring my picture in kindergarten granted a punishment.

As I grow up, I grown a distain for myself. Even when I wasn't actively punish anymore, the idea of not being perfect in school still give me great amount of stress. I am like a battered dog who was still chained to an abandoned post. I couldn't unravel myself from my conditioning.

Helpful Tips that help me slow down

Life in itself is joy: I always thought to myself if I slave away right now then I'll be happier in the future. Once I score straight As in my high school years, I'll be happier when I am in college. If I work hard and get a good paying job THEN I'll be happy. I realize each stage of my life, I was pushing that carrot on the stick further and further down. The truth is I should prioritize my happiness NOW and for the future. I am worthy just by existing. I don't need to prove my worth to become happy.

If it doesn't work a couple of few times, then I should try something else: One of my mentor said this. It sounds so simple yet I am caught in the trap of thinking if I have my willpower this time then It would work. Think of your new year resolution that you never complete. The one that you tell yourself each year it would be different but it didn't. Perhaps switch up your framework or tactic. The current method might not be working for you.

Scheduling in Hobby and De-stress activities. Again, sounds quite simple. Yet, my calendar is always fill with things that I have to do rather than I want to do. Recently, I kept a to-do list of tasks I want to do for fun. For example, Reading a book about audio mixing at a library, making a workout regime specifically to become a super cool buff boom operator/Grip, or study at this one cafe that have really good smoked salmon toast (all of this sounds really nerdy I know). For me, these all the thing I do to treat myself.

What do I want right now? I checked in with my body a lot because when we're on our phone or being busy we neglect our body. I'll tune in to see what my body wants. Maybe, it wants to stretch or cook some food to destress.

I am gonna work a little bit of homework now to help my future self. To curb my procrastination, I would take small step towards my homework. I have this habit of either not doing it or doing it super last minute. I hate working because it feels like I have to complete the whole thing. Lately, I have been framing it as me helping to lighten the homework load when I do procrastinate last minute. It won't stop me from finishing my work near deadline but it definitely makes it feel more manageable and less destructive.

The Aftermath:

I am better at balancing work now. Also, I am actually pursuing something that I am interested in! It makes hard work feel rewarding rather than out of obligation. Still a perfectionist but this whole blog is supposed to help with that! I am doing well so no need to worry about me! I hope the tips can be beneficial to you.

Any WIP?

I have a script idea! I haven't write them down yet but I basically have an outline of it. I am super proud of the it as well! I just have to start actually doing it T_T

Getting the script into film will be hard. I hope to one day make it though.

A lot of words today. And there's still a lot of points that I didn't get to. Anyhow, see you next time! Have a great week.

#health & fitness #Anxiety #School #Productivity #Imposter Syndrome #perfectionist #College

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sugawara-sweetheart · 3 years

Text

parasite | part ii (m)

❥oikawa x fem!reader x kunimi x kindaichi | seijoh x fem!reader

❥warnings: mentions/descriptions of somnophilia, public sex, rough sex, biting | minor implication of cheating | Stockholm syndrome, manipulation | noncon, heavy degradation, humiliation, spitting, voyeurism, nipple play, dacryphilia, handjob, choking, slapping, cock-slapping, facial + creampie

❥word count: 5.4k

hell has always been depicted one way. crimson fire and blood sweeping across, anguished face melting into skulls, darkness plaguing. but that’s wrong.

this is hell.

being oikawa tōru’s dirty little cumslut is hell.

you thought it would’ve gotten better after almost three years of finishing high school had passed but it’s the same. you wake with a heavy heart, stinging tears building in your eyes and oikawa’s cock forced its way into your aching cunt, his lips pressed to your throat, staining fresh bruises over the old ones. it was foolish to think the day you folded up your aoba johsai uniform for the last time ever that you were free of your dirty time at the school, but you were so wrong.

and it isn’t just oikawa. it isn’t unusual for iwaizumi to turn up at the door of oikawa’s doorstep, not just to see his best friend because the two are still inseparably close, but to demand you.

“come on, you’ve been hogging her for too long, making her into your slut. stop being greedy and learn to share, shittykawa.” is all he spits, tugging you away roughly by the arm whilst oikawa merely laughs.

“play nice, iwa-chan!” is all he calls, waving you away.

sometimes iwaizumi just can’t wait. more often than not he’s fucked you in his car, the cold windows steaming up as he grunts in your ear, hips snapping into yours till his hot white cum spills all over your clothes, clinging to the fabric. and then when you finally return back to his apartment it happens all over again. you can’t find it in yourself to cry anymore but maybe iwaizumi’s more careful than oikawa; there’s always a tenderness in his eyes when he brushes your hair out of your sweating face, asking you if you’re okay. but what are you supposed to say? tell him no, you’re fucking done with this shit, as if they’d ever let you go?

even makki and mattsun hadn’t fully let go. the two may have moved away to tokyo for university but they still return often, sometimes together, sometimes alone. too many assignments. close deadline. girlfriend is pissing him off. and all oikawa does is laugh cheerily, swinging his arm around his shoulder, a suggestive gleam in his crinkled eyes.

“need some stress relief?” and you’re whoever’s for the night to use as they wish.

maybe if you had applied to another high school or another club or you weren’t so outgoing, things would’ve been different.

but instead you’re oikawa’s little toy to be passed around as he wishes, and he’d always been a good senpai to his underclassmen, a good captain to his former teammates even to this day.

yahaba gets you first after he graduates. you don’t know what happened to the sweet, charming boy who always went out of his way to treat you like a delicate angel because the way his hand strikes your cheek burns with a sting as he drives his cock into your cunt relentlessly, spitting about what a dirty slut you are, how you’re only good to get fucked, the only thing you can do is take cock. but he isn’t as bad as kyōtani. you were sure you were lucky to be alive, after his hands locked around your throat too hard, squeezing your airways tight till black spots began to appear in your teary vision.

even iwaizumi and oikawa had been stunned when you’d returned. deep bruises stained your arms and bite marks etched into your legs, handprints on your throat and welts on your cheeks, pink cum clinging to your panties. neither of them had been able to say anything but there was a deep crease between iwaizumi’s brows as he rubbed the ointment carefully onto you.

“gonna kill him.” he hissed to himself when you winced with the pain and flinch at his movements. but they still didn’t refuse the next time kyōtani came around asking for a go.

but even after everything- even after he lets you be used, be spat on and slapped, have your hair pulled till strands are ripped from your burning scalp and there’s bite marks bruising your skin- the only time you feel cathartic calmness wash over you is when you’re in oikawa’s arms, his fingers brushing through your hair, his clean scent filling your nose.

“oh, you’re such a cute, little slut. a good girl.” he hums, nuzzling his face against your cheek with a smile on his face. if it had been different, you’d have looked like an adorable couple perhaps. but this was anything but.

one night when you’d been lying next to oikawa, staring up at the dark ceiling, fantasies began to paint in your mind. what if your innocent teenage crush on oikawa had been reciprocated differently? maybe you’d be lying beside him optionally, that you would choose to kiss him and let him touch you and he wouldn’t laugh at you and mock you for sobbing even though your wetness is drooling from your tight, slutty hole- and even if he did, it’d be okay because it’d just be a fantasy and you know he’d love you. or what if you had refused that night what feels like so many years ago? what if you had pushed him away, asked him to leave, if you hadn’t given in to the heavy sense of not wanting to disappoint weighing down on you?

“what you thinking about?” you start slightly at oikawa’s saccharine voice purring in your ear as he shifts, pressing his body against yours and resting his hand over your waist. you try not to tense too much- he always hates it when you do. “don’t you trust me, y/n-chan? you know i’d never hurt you- why would you think i would?” he’d pout, scandalised and hurt by the idea of you being scared of him, even though you know he doesn’t really care. in fact, you’re sure he likes the fear.

“i’m just thinking.” you breathe. you can feel his eyes piercing into you, even in the darkness as your eyes flutter shut. that fantasy of being free is so beautiful. “tōru, would you ever let me go?”

“let you go?” he laughs but you feel his arm tighten around your waist. “where would you go?” you don’t reply but his legs tangle with yours and he pulls you into his hold, resting his lips against your ear. “i care for you here. i give you a home, food, clothes- anything you want i give you. you wouldn’t have anyone else like that in the world.” he sounds hurt, voice mocking and it makes your chest twinge. he wasn’t wrong; he was busy practising and playing volleyball, heading towards his dream of being a pro-athlete and competing at the very top nationwide- worldwide even perhaps- but he still always came home to you. he still always had time for you. “why would you want to go?” there’s a heavy pregnant pause and your throat feels tight before you can mumble out an apology, shaking your head to dispel the fantasies you crave. the tension washes away and you can feel his lips stretch into a smile as you curl into him. “that’s right, sweetie. you’d never want to leave me.”

spring used to be your favourite time of year. cherry blossom always looked so beautiful and there was nothing as exhilarating as finishing the long, strenuous academic year and getting to admire the beautiful pink blossom decorating the trees, drifting in the light airy breeze. before you would celebrate- it used to be sweet, happy memories to be sipping peach tea under the cherry blossom trees as the warm, spring air carried your laughter with your friends: oikawa, iwaizumi, hanamaki and matsukawa. oikawa still takes you to see it, but now pink blossom bleeds into scarlet with his fingers gripped around your wrist, a bitter taste weighs heavy on your tongue.

one spring night oikawa invites kunimi and kindaichi round. their cheeks are flushed pink with tipsy joy in the warm living room as they sip cold beers, laughing over old memories with the sounds of a volleyball game on television playing in the background. it’s supposed to be a nice thing- a senpai, a captain, treating his underclassmen for finally graduating, but your stomach still churns with anxiety, cold sweat dampening your skin even when you shuffle closer to oikawa. the soft scent of his cologne doesn’t calm you now and your glass of juice weighs heavy in your hand. you’re sure if you even try to open your mouth you’ll be sick.

but you don’t mind.

it’s better to feel ignored as you sink into the couch, staring at the blue and yellow striped ball flashing on the television than to acknowledge kunimi and kindaichi’s eyes boring into you. something about them makes your skin crawl- it’s been a few years since you’d left high school but it feels different now. back then they had adored you- you were their manager, their senpai who always gave them the coldest water bottles first, who defended them from the other senpais, who always cheered them on and offered to buy them ramen and meat buns after practise. and now you can’t say exactly what it is but they look at you differently.

“another beer?” oikawa asks and the two dark-haired boys nod. you try to swallow the thick lump in your throat when he gets up from beside you on the couch, prising his arm away from you even if you try to cling to his sleeve and the living room door snapping shut behind him makes all the little hairs on the back of your neck stand up. you try not to look at them, staring at the television screen but it’s hard to focus when the bright light stings and bleeds out into white lines from the hot tears building in your orbs. there’s a flash of movement. your heart drops as you sink into the couch, horrified to find kindaichi has moved from the other end closer, kunimi standing from the armchair and towering over you.

“you guys okay?” your voice wavers and you grip the hem of your shirt tight, hoping it’ll mask how your hands tremble but you can’t even meet their eyes piercing into you.

“we’re not stupid, you know.” kindaichi spits first. you can see it now, hear it- the disgust laced in his tone, in his narrowed eyes. “we want our turn.”

“w-what?” kunimi scoffs next, shaking his head as a somewhat amused smile tugs at the corners of his lips.

“don’t play dumb, y/n. we know you’ve been their little fucktoy for years now. and now it’s our turn to use you too.”

an iciness strikes through your chest as you stare at the two boys, cowering as you sink into the couch, shaking your head furiously.

“n-no! it’s not like that!”

“really?” there’s a harsh mocking to kindaichi’s tone, his eyes widened in faux disbelief. “are you saying yahaba and kyōtani were both lying? that your cunt was the tightest little hole they’d ever fucked? that you weren’t so good at taking dick right now down that little throat?” you gasp, spluttering on your words as you try to protest. they edge closer as fear rises in you, and a desperate squeal falls from your lips when kindaichi’s heavy hand grips your shoulders, pushing you flat against the couch.

you cry out as his fingers fumble for the buttons of your shirt, your hands clawing at his and legs flailing, and he grunts when your foot strikes into his stomach.

“you fucking bitch.” kunimi hisses, grabbing your hands as kindaichi clambers over your legs, his sheer weight feeling like it’s crushing your bones.

“stay still, dumb whore- do you think anyone’s going to help you?” the buttons come falling off your shirt as kindaichi rips it open and your scream is lost when kunimi sticks his fingers into your mouth, your throat closing up on the drool that spills from your lips.

but then the door opens and oikawa stands in the doorway, mouth hanging open and three beers in his hand.

“what’s going on?” you sob heavily when kunimi pulls his fingers from your mouth and releases your wrists, your hands immediately falling to your chest to cover yourself up and neither kindaichi nor kunimi try to stop you when you scramble away from them, hurrying to oikawa. he lets you fall into his arms as he places the beers down on the coffee table, holding you and swaying you gently with gentle shushes.

“t-tōru, t-they-” you shake as you cling to him, wet tears staining your cheeks as you bury your head in his chest and he coos as he cups the back of your head.

“oh, it’s okay, sweetie. don’t worry, i’m here now.” his voice is so gentle. but then he chuckles. his chest vibrates against your head as you tense in his hold. it doesn’t feel like safety anymore.

“you guys couldn’t wait, huh?” tuts oikawa, lifting a brow as he stares at kindaichi and kunimi, a mocking smirk tugging at his lips.

“everyone else got a go on her.” says kunimi. “so why can’t we fuck the slut too?” you flinch at his words, clinging to oikawa’s t-shirt tighter as he merely laughs.

“you can- i’m not saying you can’t. but do you even know how to fuck a woman?” you shake as he pulls you away from him, cupping your face and tilting it up so his eyes can lock with yours. he always scrutinises you, taking in your watery eyes that waver with fear, your trembling lips that whispered begs fall from.

“what was that, sweetheart? i can’t hear you.” the only sound in the room other than the ignored television is your heavy pants as you can barely gasp for air. blood rings in your ears and your heart pounds, knees feeling weak as you cling to oikawa.

“p-please, tōru- d-don’t let them.”

“aw, baby.” your eyes clench shut as he grips your face, swiping his thumb messily over your cheeks, rubbing your tears into your flushed skin roughly enough that it hurts. “don’t worry, i’ll take care of you.” you groan when his hand suddenly reaches under your skirt, grabbing your clothed cunt as you squirm but he’s too strong, pressing his fingers against your clothed clit and rubbing it through the fabric as kindaichi and kunimi stare hungrily.

“tōru, stop it!”

“oh, don’t act like you don’t want it.” you struggle as he spins you around, forcing you to face the two men with your back pressed to his chest. one of his large hands easily grip both your wrists and the other rubbing your pussy through your panties. it’s humiliating, how they both stare at you like you’re nothing more than a piece of meat, darkened eyes lustful and hard outlines of their cocks pressing against the tight restraints of their jeans. “you were such a good manager to them too- it’s only fair you let them watch. besides,” you shudder as he presses a kiss to your neck, teeth grazing the sensitive skin. “they might pick up one or two things for when i'm not here.”

“please-” you try to turn your head to face him, pleading eyes wide. you’d been used so many times before. you’re exhausted by now. and now, there’s more of them to use you? would there be any end to this? “tōru, i-i’ll do anything else, just-” fresh tears build in your eyes as you try to wrestle his grip around your hands. it starts to feel warm between your legs, your panties growing damper. your toes are almost starting to curl in your socks as oikawa’s fingertips rub swirls on your swelling clit. “j-just not like this.”

“aw, that’s rude to our guests, y/n-chan.” you hate the feeling of his hot breath dancing on your skin between the open-mouthed kisses he presses to your neck and jaw, still damp with the tears that stream down your cheeks. “besides, you’re getting so wet. are you sure you don’t like this?”

“bet she loves it, the slut.” kindaichi scoffs, voice permeated with a groan as he palms himself through his jeans.

“oh, you bet.” oikawa smiles. his hands are forceful when they shove you onto the couch, making you groan as your back hits it harshly, but you have nowhere to run as he cages you in. his large hands grip your thighs, spreading them out with his nails piercing into the bare flesh of your thighs and you’re horribly aware of the little wet patch in the centre of your panties, clinging to your folds, when he tugs down your skirt, letting it pool at your ankles. your half-torn shirt comes off next, your bare nipples pebbling in the cold air.

“tōru-” it’s a pathetic pleading whine as you try to cover yourself up, try to push your legs together but you can’t, not with oikawa between them. “don’t want to.” it’s humiliating, it always has been every time you’ve been stripped bare and shared between a group of men you thought were your friends, but time has desensitised you to that. but now it’s different, it’s new yet nightmarish images flash in your mind. you had been so young then, so young and scared and feeble. and you’re falling back into that. or maybe you never left it.

“oh, don’t whine, baby.” he pouts, grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head.

a gasp falls from your lips when he leans to your chest, his tongue flicking and swirling around your pebbled nipples, making your eyes flutter shut as you squirm below him. you don’t want the whines to fall from your lips but they’re hard to control. “she’s really sensitive here. look.” he rolls his fingers against the little buds, causing you to jerk and your toes to curl in your socks but hurt is etched all over your face, making oikawa simply laugh as he continues to flick his fingertips along your sensitive buds. “cute, right?”

“i bet she’s so wet.” sneers kunimi, his eyes flickering up from your chest to your face. through the hot tears brimming in your eyes you can clearly see the coldness he stares at you with. you’re nothing. there’s no mercy for the girl he’d respected as his senpai, his sweet manager-chan who he’d let ruffle his hair and tease him for being so lazy. you’re nothing but a mere- “slut.”

“look at her still struggling.” you whine at kindaichi’s snarl, but it bleeds out into a breathy gasp as oikawa wraps his lips around one of your nipples, sucking and lapping as he chuckles against your skin, kunimi scoffing with agreement.

“she does this a lot.” oikawa smiles when he releases your nipple with a wet pop. you feel like a little doll on display, there to be used for entertainment. and even though you’re not new to it, it still hurts all the same. more possibly. “but once you keep going,” his grip around your wrists tighten as he sits on your kicking legs, making you groan at the pain of his weight, and his other hand grabs your jaw forcefully, fingertips pressing into your cheek roughly. “she starts to like it.” the manic grin on his face sends shivers running through you that you fall frozen. all you can see is oikawa blaring in your mind like a horrible hallucination. “like the horny bitch in heat she is. she’s an insatiable cockslut.��

he prises your mouth open with his fingertips squeezing your cheeks and you flinch when he spits, a cold globule landing on your tongue. the horrible sensation makes you cringe but you’ve been conditioned, almost like a dog, that your pussy clenches.

“messy bitch.” you barely even get to process kindaichi’s words before oikawa’s shoving his fingers into your mouth, weighing down heavy on your salivating tongue. they edge towards the back of your throat, your throat tightening as you gag and you jerk under his weight, making them laugh sneeringly and stinging tears well in your eyes. how pathetic.

“she really is.” oikawa smiles, his eyes flickering between kindaichi and kunimi. “and she’s good with her mouth too. because she’s a good little slut, aren’t you?” he nods his head slowly, almost like he’s urging a toddler to speak and you can only glower at him through your tears with his fingers forced in your mouth. “go on, say it.” kunimi and kindaichi watch with keen interest, horrible smirks plastered on their faces and you can clearly see the way they’re palming themselves so eagerly. how is it all the men you’d trusted, the same men you considered good enough to be family, were all so depraved?

“y/n-chan…” you try to force the humiliating words out but it’s pathetic with drool bubbling from the corners of your lips, making you slobber all over oikawa’s hand and your own chin. your chest wrenches with the deep grunt kindaichi releases, the buckle of his belt clicking and a fresh wave of hot tears arise in your eyes again. this is embarrassing. worse than embarrassing.

“look at her crying.” says kunimi with a twisted smile on his face. “cry some more, bitch.” and you feel pathetic when you do, your face crumpling as hot tears run down your cheeks, your sobs muffled by oikawa’s fingers in your mouth. he groans as he slowly rocks his hips into you, grinding his erection against your body whilst kindaichi slowly strokes his cock.

“she looks pretty when she cries, right?” oikawa smiles.

you gasp for air, your throat feeling tight, when he finally rips his fingers from your mouth. strings of saliva break and splatter over your messy chin and he coos at the drool glistening off his fingers.

“messy girl. but it works as the best lube for your sloppy pussy, doesn’t it?” he releases your wrists and immediately you bury your sobbing face into your trembling hands, the tears running into the drool as oikawa spreads your legs wider.

“tōru, please- this is enough.”

“we’ve not even started yet, stupid bitch.” kindaichi growl cuts through harshly and you flinch when he grabs your hands, yanking it towards his cock. “just shut up and take it.” you recoil at the sight of his dick, slapped against his clothed stomach. he’s thick, the bulbous head leaking beads of precum and the prominent veins lacing along, but you don’t have a choice when his strength easily overpowers yours, grabbing your hand and spitting into the palm of it. his saliva feels horrible on your skin but it’s surely worse when he forces your fingers around his length.

“you’re a natural, kindaichi.” laughs oikawa. “do you like that, y/n-chan? do you like his cock in your hand?” you hate it. you hate the warm weight you’re forced to squeeze as kindaichi exhales heavily- but you barely get to cry out any protest before oikawa shoves his fingers into you.

it burns- three fingers already stretching you out with sharp scissoring motions that makes you gasp, your hand tightening around kindaichi’s cock and you hate the moan it draws out for him. oikawa isn’t usually like this- he’s rougher with his sharp fingerfucks against your spongy walls, your saliva mixing with the squelching wetness that fills the room.

“oh, she’s so tight just around my fingers.” oikawa hums. “just imagine how tight you’ll be around my cock.”

“and so wet too.” kunimi’s eyes are widened slightly as he watches how your pussy sucks in oikawa’s fingers, drenched in a thick sheen of your glistening slick. “fuck.” he groans under the sound of his zipper being undone and you cringe as you see him pull out his cock from the corner of your eye. it’s too much- warm pleasure begins to swirl in you, your toes curling at the rush as the pressure builds in the pit of your stomach, oikawa’s hips grinding his hard cock into your leg, kindaichi forcing you to stroke his length and kunimi jacking off right by your face. it’s horrible. it’s suffocating and you feel like you’re drowning-

a heavy moan falls from your lips and your hips jerk at the sudden hot flash of pleasure that rushes through you. a bright grin spreads across oikawa’s lips as his fingers stutter, and then he does it again. and again. his fingers rub against that sensitive spot that has the pleasure surging so much faster through you. your moans are harder to hold back, even though you hate them, but wetness drools from your cunt so much more.

“she likes that.” oikawa chuckles. “didn’t you say you didn’t want this? now look at you, soaking my hand and moaning like a whore.” you groan as he puckers his lips, spitting directly onto your glistening folds as slick dribbles down between your spread thighs.

“her cunt is so messy.” kindaichi murmurs.

“yeah.” oikawa exhales. “it’s this spot right here when you curl your fingers. it’ll make her cum so hard, just like a dumb whore she is. won’t it?” his voice sounds distant but his mocking tone is harsh as blood pounds in your ears and pleasure builds higher and higher. your skin feels hot and you’re so wet, walls gripping his fingers tighter. “you’re going to cum, right? cum now.”

your orgasm rushes through you, heavy and forceful as a string of moans fall from your lips. wetness gushes from your cunt, soaking oikawa’s hand in your release as your hips buck up into his hand, your own tightening around kindaichi’s cock. he and kunimi stare hungrily, entranced by the strings of slick that cling to oikawa’s fingers as he smiles proudly.

“wasn’t that nice?” you feel so fucked out. your mind is cloudy, blood pounding and heart racing as you stare at oikawa, dazed and breathless.

“she’s so fucked out.” kindaichi says and you don’t even flinch as he taps your cheek harshly, his fingertips stinging against your hot skin. “already?” oikawa hums in response as he unbuckles his belt, a happy smile painted on his face.

“oh yeah. it makes her a whole lot better to fuck when she’s a dumb, fucked out slut.”

he groans as his wet fingers close around his cock, spreading the slick over the veiny skin as his head falls back. he strokes himself slowly, squeezing the head and chuckling at the precum that oozes from the flushed slit.

“oh, this cunt is going to feel so good.” his cock is heavy as he slaps it against your swollen clit, making you jerk with the sensitivity but his hand pins your hip in place with a bruising grip as he slides his cock into your wet hole. with the amount of wetness pooling below you the sting is minimal but you hate his deep, pleasured groan, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as your walls cling to his length.

“t-tōru-” his name falls softly from your lips and you want to push away at his hips, stop him from filling you up any further with his thick cock as the sensitivity makes you shudder. “t-too big.”

“take it, y/n-chan.” he grunts through gritted teeth. his hips are sharper as he pushes into you, making you gasp as it takes.

“that’s what you’re here for.” kunimi hisses. “you’re just a cockslut.” you flinch at his words, your face crumpling as tears stain your cheeks once more but this time it makes oikawa groan louder, his hands circling your throat as he bottoms out in you.

“oh, you look so pretty when you cry.” you hate the feeling of his wet tongue on your cheeks, lapping at your tears with his fingers around your throat, but it ends quickly when he quickly pulls away, frowning at kunimi. “you can use her hand, you know.”

the younger man doesn’t hesitate to snatch your hand, dragging it towards his cock and you shudder as he licks your clammy hand, his wet saliva coating your skin before he forces it around the base of his cock. he’s thicker than kindaichi, longer too, and a deep breathy moan escapes him as he forces your hand along his length, just like kindaichi.

“now watch.”

a cry escapes you and your head fall back as oikawa starts to pound into you. he’s rough and fast, cockhead almost slamming against your cervix and hipbones snapping into yours.

“h-hurts. please.”

“i said take it.” oikawa’s voice is a deep, primal growl, rumbling deep from his throat as his fingers tighten around your neck, squeezing the air out of you. your walls clench tighter, body tensing but it just seems to make it hurt more as your eyes clench shut, pain pulsating through you as he pounds into your cunt for his own pleasure. “or cry. i don’t care, it just turns me on more. right, guys?” a breathy laugh, half a moan, falls from his lips as kunimi and kindaichi chuckle in agreement.

“she looks like such a slut right now.” the latter breathes. his hips buck up into your hand faster as he watches oikawa’s cock drive into your cunt. “getting railed with two dicks in her hands.”

“well, she’s taken more than this.” oikawa smiles. “you know back when we were in third year, we could pull her into the locker room before a game and she’d jack all four of us off. a real cumdump.” he taps your cheek mockingly as you glower through your tears whilst kunimi and kindaichi both moan at the lewd idea, their hands around yours forcing you to pump their throbbing cocks faster.

“when we get her, i’m gonna ruin her.”

oikawa laughs at the idea, releasing your throat to cup your face as he continues to drive his cock into you. your wetness drools all over his length, squelching lewdly as he smiles sadistically.

“pretty when you’re get fucked, aren’t you?’ his sweet lips press against the corners of your mouth, soft and tender. but the palm that strikes your cheek moments after isn’t- your head swinging limply to the side with your tender skin burning. “she likes it rough, you know? anything goes really”

“oh yeah? this too?” your scalp burns when kindaichi tugs you and you flinch when he grips the base of his cock, slapping the warm weight against your wet lips and cheek. and you hate how it makes oikawa and kunimi groan, the former fucking you faster whilst the latter bucks his hips up into your hole, forcing your fingers into a hole for him to fuck his cock in.

“oh, i think she likes that, kindaichi. she’s squeezing so much tighter.” oikawa laughs as he finds your clit, swirling it slowly as he tugs your face back to him. you can tell he’s taking you in carefully with his sadistically gleaming eyes- he likes seeing your wrecked makeup, your tears and drool, the hurt and pain. “do you want to cum? i’ll make you cum now, baby. you’ve been so good for us tonight after all.”

it used to be a trap. he’s said it plenty of times before- but it didn’t stop until he wants it to. or iwaizumi, or whoever the fuck is using you.

so you have to take it- you take oikawa’s cock pounding into your tight hole, him spitting onto your drooling cunt and swirling your thumb whilst kindaichi and kunimi use your hands, bucking their hips up into your fingers. you don’t know how many times you cum, time blurring but you’re exhausted and your throbbing cunt aches as oikawa’s thrusts become sloppy, his fingers squeezing around your throat again.

“i’m going to cum.” he groans. “going to cum in this tight little cunt. oh, you’re going to take it, won’t you? you’ll take my cum just like the perfect little cumdump-” he breaks off with a loud string of moans, cock twitching and warm spurts shoot into your cunt, flooding your warm walls. and kindaichi and kunimi aren’t far behind- their cocks hang in your face as they jack off with fast pumps, deep moans and breathy swears falling from their lips as you’re forced to watch them till hot ropes of sticky cum shoot from the flushed slits, splattering all over you. it’s everywhere- clinging to the skin of your chest, your tear-stained face, your hair whilst oikawa’s loads drips from your abused hole.

“what a fucking mess she looks.” kindaichi mutters. he looks disgusted.

“a proper cumslut.” oikawa just simply laughs, brown eyes crinkling with sheer amusement.

“well, at least you guys know how to have a fun time so make sure you show her that next week. i’ll be angry at you kouhais if they don’t.”

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theaudacitytowrite · 3 years

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Hi dear! Congrats on 250 followers!! 😍🖤🥳

Could you write number 43 from the prompt list, please? 🥺🖤

Thank you so much, Kiki!!!! <333 Hope you like it:)

This one is a bit suggestive I guess...? Depends on where your mind is going... so proceed with caution? Mentions of possible smut if you squint

#43: “Why can’t we just lay down and forget the world for a bit?”

With a frustrated sigh, you threw your highlighter onto your notepad and book that laid open in front of you on the desk. You were trying to finish your research paper for several hours now. It didn't help that today was one of the most beautiful days outside as well. The sun was shining and the birds in front of your window sang the most melodious songs.

You cursed yourself for choosing this master of all things. Yes, of course, it was interesting and challenging in a good way, but sometimes you wished, you had picked something for which you didn’t have to go through so much effort.

“What’s the matter, darling?” Loki cooed into your ear when he suddenly appeared behind you. As his thumbs naturally found the exact spots where your muscles had formed agonizing knots and were hurting the most, he massaged them carefully and skillfully, earning an appreciative sigh from your lips.

“I’m trying to finish this stupid research paper. I only have one more topic for which I have to go through statistics and existing methods to compare mine to, but not a single piece of information I’m reading is sticking to my brain. I just can’t concentrate. I read this page eight times now and I still have no clue about what I was even reading.” you let your head fall back and pouted at Loki.

“That does sound frustrating,” he confirmed and softly pecked your lips.

“Why can’t we just lay down and forget the world for a bit?” you huffed exasperated, your arms falling to your sides as you let your body go limp on the chair.

“I know the temptation is strong but that wouldn’t help your predicament at all, my dove.” he purred, intensifying the pressure on a fairly stubborn muscle tenseness a little.

“I hate it when you’re right.” you groaned and chewed on your lips, contemplating if you should just give up on everything and open your own little café with a book nook. Loki quickly caught your attention again as he proclaimed an idea.

“I have a bargain…,” he began cryptically, “...something we both will profit from.” His hands stopped the soothing caress of your muscles and you turned around to be met by a mischievous gaze.

“What are you proposing, Mr. Laufeyson?” you raised your eyebrow in suspicion.

“I know the thought of work is unpleasant but you will get nowhere with procrastinating the whole day. And if I remember correctly, that deadline should be in a day or two?” you nodded slowly in agreement, still not sure where this was going.

"You’ve been working so hard the last couple of weeks, that we barely had time for ourselves… but tonight I wanna change that.” he drawled sultry, tugging you out of your chair. His arms swiftly slung around your waist, so he could hold you close, “Tonight it’s gonna be all about us. I’m thinking about a bottle of wine… a nicely prepared dinner… and after that, I can help you relieve all that pinned-up stress. Perhaps with a massage, a hot bath... however you like. I will pamper my little dove... a nice little treat for my good girl.”

“Where’s the catch?” you whispered full of anticipation. He grinned smugly at your sharp mind.

“You’ve got to earn it.” he smirked, “You gonna have to finish that paper… tonight.” he studied your pondering expression closely.

“It will be worth your effort, love,” he reassured you when it took you just a little bit too long to answer.

“Ok, just to recap… you gonna do anything I want?” you asked with a sly grin yourself.

“Yes, my dear. But only if you fulfill the end of your bargain.” he chuckled.

“And what if I don’t do it and continue procrastinating?” you defied halfheartedly.

“Oh… you will find out soon enough.” he grinned viciously.

“Deal,” you answered without hesitation. You didn’t plan on not fulfilling your end of the deal, but you also knew that any punishment Loki had in mind, would turn into a pleasant experience of some sort in the end anyway… so what did you really have to lose?

Taglist: @lucywrites02 @funsized-mimi @silver-lupines @variant59 @austynparksandpizza @tinctureofmaddness @user13cabs @marvelfanfn2187a113 @1marvelnerd3000 @lunalavenderfairy @onlyforloki @that-one-girl-that-simps @donaweasley @plainlo-inthemorning @with-inked-solace

Let me know if you want to be added:)

#250 follower celebration #loki #loki x reader #loki drabble #loki blurb #loki oneshot #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #loki laufeyson #loki friggason #loki odinson

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sometimesrosy · 2 years

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hi! can i ask advice on ghostwriting/freelancing? where should i start? what do i need on my portfolio? which platforms do you best recommend for promotion?

if you don't wanna answer, it is totally fine!!! have a good day! ☺️

I'm not sure I'm a good person to ask. I'm not very good at it. lol.

The writing part, sure I can do, but the business part is not really my thing. Any business, frankly. I am a terrible capitalist. Also I found a company to provide jobs, got a steady client and stuck with it.

I did however quit recently and went off on my own with a client or two. I am not looking for more clients because it takes a lot of time and energy and I am trying to write and work on selling my own stuff. Ideally, I'll be earning money under my own name.

But how did I start? Well, I looked on the freelance boards for jobs, and found a few. Then I researched those companies-- ALWAYS double check to make sure those companies are reliable, actually pay, have consistent work, treat freelancers well, aren't scams to begin with.

I worked for Hotghostwriters, and there were plusses and minuses.

Plus, they were reliable with payment, they were established, once I got a regular client I didn't have to worry about it. It might be a good place to start ghostwriting because they don't ask for a lot of experience. They didn't even ask for my education or work history, even though I have a BA in writing and was a teacher, so if you don't have any experience, that's good. I was hired based on my writing samples, and that's it.

.Minus, I felt like I was a machine not a writer, the pay is not good, the deadlines are far too tight, there weren't enough novel writing gigs until I got the regular. In fact they came back for ME, not the company. It's on the super low end of the pay scale which makes it a bit of an assembly line factory feel. Quality is only important to keep a client. More important is output.

I have heard that TheUrbanWriters is a similar company, and they seem to have more fiction work (I think) and are easier to work with but the pay is actually a little bit less. People say it's a good way to break in. It might be. To get your feet wet. But neither HGW or TUW seem to make you enough for a living wage. I could do it because I have an extremely low cost of living. But I couldn't pay rent with it.

The portfolio that was required when I was first hired was different varieties of romance genres. I believe I used parts of my science fiction novels as well as various fanfic. Occasionally after I was hired they would ask for new samples in new genres or just the genre that a client was looking for. Or perhaps a type of heat, clean, sensual, spicy, etc.

In order to get started freelancing or Ghostwriting, you could also go to one of the established freelancing sites, like Fiverr or Upwork, ProBlogger or MediaBistro. There are others. Google for more information. Go to the sites, look at reviews of the sites, look at the kinds of jobs available and the costs, search companies, search clients. Make sure they're paying their freelancers a fair wage, because many will try to lowball.

Mostly there's a lot of research to make sure it all works out well-- because not all of it will be legit. And as a freelancer you have to protect yourself. I once got hired to write a post apocalyptic book-- or to FINISH a book that someone else started. They wanted something that the old ghostwriter wasn't providing. I think they wanted a tough masculine kill em all kind of story but didn't know well enough to ask for what they wanted. I didn't figure it out until later when I also was fired. But they DID pay me in stages. So I was paid to review the last book. I was paid for the ten sample pages and then for the next three chapters.... they just didn't want me to finish the book. TBH the outline was terrible and made no sense, and I didn't mind getting cut, especially since shortly after, HGW found me a client who I wrote for for years. At the height I was getting a novel every six weeks. Like I said. A bit of a machine thing going on. I don't actually WANT to be writing ten books a year, especially when they're not mine.

I hope I've helped you know where to start and how to consider breaking into ghostwriting.

When you get experience, you can actually make a LOT more. Like 30k-60k a book, but when I was starting out, I was making 600-1000 a book. Short books (30-60k words) but still.

And none of this is actually talking about non fiction or blog ghostwriting or technical writing or any of that. I think there's a lot more work for that and the projects are smaller.

Good luck. Remember, research, research, research.

#ghostwriting #ghostwriting advice #the business of writing #rosywrites

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starlightrows · 3 years

Text

Something Sweet

Chapter 1 - Spring Festival Funnel Cakes

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Series Masterlist

Pairing: Modern!Paz Vizsla x fem!reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: None!

Summary: Spring has sprung and business is booming and the community is celebrating with a weekend long festival... that you get to spend attending a vendors booth next to the handsome baker from down the street

The depths of winter in a place where it snows is not the ideal time to be moving your whole life and business. But you didn’t have much of a choice, you had already gotten the business license taken care of, the storefront purchased, and suppliers lined up. And with the lease on your apartment being up, it’s now or never. So with a small moving truck full of your belongings all packed up, you set off towards the city to finally chase your dream of opening a flower shop.

Your new apartment is nice, a bit smaller than your previous one but that comes with living alone in the city on a tight budget. But still it’s a one bedroom and it’s enough for just you. The storefront is beautiful. It’s located downtown in what you had assumed was a historic district of the city, but somehow is not classified as such. The buildings are lovely red brick exterior with large open windows for passers by to peek in, with quaint awnings over every door. Your store is located on the corner, with plenty of space to set up floral displays and hang potted plants in the windows. Come spring time this is going to be amazing, and beautiful and everything you dreamed of. You just hoped that others would think so too and come shop there.

By the time mid February rolls around there is still snow in the mountains, and the occasional rain and snow storm that blows through the area but it’s not as bad as when you first moved. Your apartment is coming along nicely, and your store is looking pretty good as well. You’re hoping to open by March 1st, but that’s still two and half weeks away. You’ve got plenty of time to finish painting, assembling shelves, figuring out how to want to arrange your displays, and set up the black board you’re planning to use to decorate the wall behind the checkout counter. You thought it might be fun to use chalk paint to decorate it for the various seasons, write specials, and do holiday countdowns.

You’re a little frustrated with yourself that you weren’t able to get everything in order to be open this weekend. Valentine’s Day is the prime time of the year for a flower and botanical shop. But spring is coming and that means birthdays, weddings, prom season, graduations, date nights, Mother’s Day and spring decorating! But for today it’s just you, a pair of worn overalls and a sweater, and a little can of paint for detailing the floor boards inside the shop. No flowers or valentines dates for you this year. You did see that there was a nice looking bakery a little ways down the street, maybe you could pick up a little treat for after dinner or some nice bread for making fancy toast.

Just the thought of it makes your mouth water, and your tummy rumble. Maybe you could make it an afternoon snack instead. You cap the lid to the paint bucket, and wash off your hands in the sink in the back. It’s not actively snowing but it is freezing outside, so you pull your jacket on over your sweater and lock the shop up behind you. You steal a quick glance at it, admiring how well it’s coming along, before you tuck your hands into your pockets and make your way down the street to the bakery.

It’s getting on in the afternoon, and the bakery isn’t very busy at the moment. But you’ve seen the lines in the morning when the bread is fresh out of the ovens, hopefully there will be something left for you.

You pull the door to the bakery open and step inside, glancing up at the sound of the tinkling bell that alerts the man behind the counter to your presence. He’s probably the tallest, broadest, burliest man you’ve ever seen; and then he smiles at you. It’s a smile that takes up his whole face, and lights up his eyes.

“Hey, welcome in” his voice is deep and sweet. You can literally feel your heart skip a beat and you almost forget why you came in here.

“Hi, I was hoping you might have some pastries or baguettes” you say, approaching the counter. He seems to blank out for a second, because he doesn’t answer you immediately.

“Uh- no sorry no pastries. But I do have a couple of French baguettes left,” he says. You’re a little disappointed about the pastries, perhaps you needed to come in earlier in the day. He pulls a baguette from the bread counter and offers it to you in a long parchment bag.

While he rings up your bread, you take the time to look around at his displays and other breads. “What’s your specialty?” You find yourself asking, thoroughly impressed with the wide variety he has to offer.

“I’m really proud of my ciabatta rolls,” he says earnestly “but I’ve been working on a new roasted tomato and herb crusted bread that excited about,”

You smile at his enthusiasm, it’s great to see people who are passionate about their craft. “I’ll have to come back and try it when you’ve got it figured out,”

You thank the kind man, and step back out into the cold to make your way back to your shop. Instantly you regret not asking for his name, but then again he just works down the street you’ll find out eventually.

———

February passed by in an overcast and sometimes snowy daze. You are able to meet your deadline and open your new store on March 1st. It’s finally a little sunnier on your opening weekend and just that simple fact has people outside and milling about. People are anxious to usher in spring, and there is no better way to brighten up the tail end of winter than by having fresh flowers, lush green house plants and aesthetically pleasing succulents around to decorate your space. Your entire store front is practically picked bare by the end of your first day! Good thing you get fresh deliveries every day, and have a fully stocked back room to replace all your wares for tomorrow.

Business slows down just a touch, but you’ve still got steady foot traffic for most of the day all through the spring. The weather is warming up, and the days are getting longer. Prom season is coming up and you’ve already pre cutting ribbon and bulk ordering corsage boxes. Graduations will be coming up soon too, you make sure to mark on your calendar when the local schools ceremonies are so you can have bouquets and lei ready in time.

One warm afternoon in April it’s a little slow and you’ve already swept the store, washed the windows inside and out, and potted 15 new plants in the back; so you take a well deserved break by standing behind the counter and reading a book. The bell on the door chimes and you look up to see a woman wearing jeans and a polo shirt with the city logo embroidered on the chest.

“Hi my name is Jennifer I’m with the city’s Parks and Recreation department,” she introduces herself and offers her hand to shake. You smile and accept her hand, giving your name as well.

“I’m stopping by all the local businesses to give you this” she hands you a flyer “the city’s annual spring festival is coming up at the end of May. Traditionally we bring in food trucks and invite arts and crafts vendors from the area to come sell their pieces and get some exposure, in the last couple years we’ve been expanding it to other local businesses too. There’s more information on the website to sign up to get you a booth if you’re interested. I think having a plants and flowers booth would be perfect for the spring festival”

She stays to chat about the festival for a couple minutes describing how fun it is to see all the local artists showing their craft, children getting their faces painted, live music, picnicking, and coming together as a community to celebrate the change in seasons.

“This city really comes alive at community events,” she tells you “Free concerts in the park in the summer, cultural learning events, fun runs, around the holidays we have a big Christmas tree lighting ceremony and winter carnival, don’t even get me started on how much this city goes all out for Halloween!”

Jennifir leaves after another couple minutes of excited chatter about the various events put on by the city, and continues on down the street to invite your business neighbors to attend the festival as vendors too. The whole interaction leaves you thrilled at the opportunity to advertise your business, make some more money for the shop, and be part of the community! Your long forgotten book is tucked away in favor of pulling out your laptop to register yourself with the city planning committee to participate in the festival.

The next few weeks you work extra hard to get through prom season, and put in more hours than usual to get everything prepared for graduations as well. The days tick by in May. Mother’s Day is an amazing weekend, you put up a temporary photo shoot wall for mom’s, daughters, grandmothers, or really anyone to come in and take a picture with a flower wall backdrop. Another amazing success full of happy smiling people!

Finally the weekend of the festival arrives, people from the city have been cleaning up the park and working their tails off to get everything perfect for the event. A massive stage is erected in the park, the usual parking lots are lined with enclosed pop up tents for the vendors selling hot foods, extra trash cans are placed everywhere, and early Saturday morning the local businesses are arriving with their SUV’s and vans full of goods to set up their tables.

You are among that crowd. Busily working to get your table set up under a pop up tent for shade, your flowers and potted plants ready for display, making sure you have enough cash for making change in transactions, and cardboard boxes to help people carry their new plant babies home with them.

All around you other local businesses are setting up their booths too. You recognize a few of them that you’ve visited already, but you’re looking forward to seeing more of them. Beside you, you absolutely recognize the tall, broad, and exceptionally handsome man that owns the bakery down the street from you. Spending the whole weekend stuck next to eye candy, and artisan bread… even if you didn’t sell a single flower this weekend at least you’d have a good view.

The morning is warming up, people will be arriving soon, your coffee long since gone. You steal a glance over at the man carefully arranging his bread displays. He glances over at you too, and grins at catching you staring.

“Morning,” he says cheekily

“Good morning,” you reply, going a bit warm in the cheeks.

“Flower booth for a spring festival? I think you’re in the running for making the most profit this weekend,” he jokes looking at your pretty flower displays and cute potted plants. You laughed a little and eyed his selection of breads hungrily

“I dunno, people don’t want to carry around a heavy plant all day. But they do want to snack on some delicious bread,”

He laughs, and extends a hand to introduce himself. “I’m Paz by the way,”

You shake his large hand and tell him your name as well. It’s a firm handshake, worn hands and strong forearms presumably from kneading bread dough. The thought makes your tummy flutter, and your heartbeat quicken.

And so it begins. The two of you pull up chairs at the edges of your pop up tents, and spend the whole day laughing, talking, interacting with customers and making sales. At the end of the first day, he sends you home with a loaf of bread with Asiago cheese baked into the top, and you gift him a pretty green succulent and promise him they are almost impossible to screw up taking care of.

The second day of the festival is much the same, except this time he brings you a breakfast sandwich he prepared ahead of time.

“If you wouldn’t mind, I need a taste tester. I’ve been thinking about expanding my menu to add breakfast sandwiches,” he tells you with a shy smile. You gladly accept the sandwich and have to control yourself not to make embarrassing noises when you taste it.

“You made this from scratch?” You ask, taking another bite

“Well I made the bun,” he says, unwrapping his own homemade breakfast sandwich

“If you start selling this, I promise you’ll put places like Starbucks out of business,” you tell him “honestly, I’m gonna have to start coming down there every morning before I open,”

In his head, Paz thinks that would be an absolute dream to have you come see him everyday. But that’s not the kind of thing you tell someone you met 24 hours ago, so he settles for something else instead

“How far is your shop? Maybe you can have your breakfast delivered,”

“You didn’t know?” You ask “I just opened my shop on the far corner of the street your bakery is on. I actually came in to try your bread a couple months ago,”

Paz is a little embarrassed, he knew a business moved in down there but had no idea it was your flower shop. “No way! I remember you coming in to the bakery, but I had no idea you worked down the street,”

“To be fair the store wasn’t open yet, and I somehow managed to forget to introduce myself,” you tell him.

Just like the day before, the two of you spend the day laughing and chatting in between greeting customers and promoting your respective businesses.

In the early afternoon a man with shaggy dark hair, sun glasses, tattoos and a very cute little boy wearing a green bucket hat came over and started making conversation with Paz. He glanced over at you.

“Have you met Din yet?” Paz asks you “He owns the tattoo parlor across from the bakery,”

You smile and shake his hand, you see his little boy eyeing your selection of plants. “Do you want to pick one out buddy?” You ask the little boy, he nods enthusiastically and chooses a little pot with the beginnings of a strawberry plant in it.

“Shorty and I were just gonna go grab some funnel cake before we head home for nap, I just stopped by to see if you wanted some,” Din says

“Yeah, that would be great!” Paz says.

Din turns to you, and extends the same offer. You politely decline, claiming there’s no way you’d ever finish one on your own.

“You can split one with me,” Paz beams. Din nods and leads his son off into the crowd to acquire the sweet treats.

“I can’t believe you haven’t met everyone yet,” Paz says “We all get together on Tuesday nights after hours for beers,”

“Who is we exactly?” You ask, sitting back down in the folding chair the festival committee had generously provided.

“Most of the shop owners on our street, and a couple of others from around the corner. They actually convinced me to move out here and start my business a couple years ago,”

“I had no idea there was such a community amongst the business owners around here,” you admit.

“You’ve gotta come meet everyone next week,” he insists “You’ll fit right in!”

Your heart warms at the sentiment. One of your big fears moving to the city was not knowing anyone and struggling to find a new group of friends. This could be promising!

Din and his son make their way back and come sit behind the tables with you and Paz. You and Paz do split the funnel cake, and have a grand time chatting with Din and his little boy.

“You’re telling me you’ve been in business for three months and haven’t been dragged into the group? You’ve gotta start coming to Tuesday night drinks,” Din laughs

“So I’ve been told. I think you boys have convinced me, I’ll be there on Tuesday,” you laugh. Paz and Din give a little cheer.

“Everyone will be so excited to meet you! But until then I think the little stinker needs to get home for a nap,” Din says scoops up his sleepy son who’s been dozing in his dad’s lap for the last 15 minutes “I’ll see you Tuesday,”

Din gives a one handed wave and disappears back into the crowd.

The remainder of the afternoon is a bit slower, the last remaining festival

“I’ll come down and pick you up so you don’t have to show up on your own,” Paz offers “Besides I need to check out your shop!”

“Awe! Thank you, that would be great!” You reply, a subtle warmth blooming in your cheeks at the thought of him coming to visit your shop.

Your heart does somersaults in your chest. He’s so sweet and kind. And he’s inviting you to be part of his friend group. That has to be a good sign, right?

Taglist: @maybege @gallowsjoker @simping-for-clones @mxndoscyarika @hayley-the-comet

AN: This whole story, but this chapter specifically is very special to me. The city this story takes place in is based off of the two cities I have lived in, in my life. I grew up going to festival that takes place in late spring, that’s really important to the town I was born and grew up in... and the new city that I moved to as an adult is known for its public markets on Saturday’s where local vendors sell their flowers and their baked goods. I am just days away from moving back to my home city (temporarily) and due to covid I didn’t have the opportunity to attend the public market the last two years in a row. I don’t know if I’ll get to participate in the spring festival in my hometown this year.

#Star Wars #The Mandalorian #Paz Vizsla #Paz Vizsla x reader #Modern AU #Pastry Chef!Paz #Bakery AU #Flower Shop AU #Paz Viszla #Paz Viszla x reader #Something Sweet

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amourology · 2 years

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Hey there love

Please don't treat this situation as a little bump or something like that, I mean is your future we're talking about

Sure, it's a given that college is everything but easy, there are sacrifices, obstacles in the way, and the system itself, plus the people that are supposed to guide you are not exactly helpful or fair all the time. It can be a living hell, and it's something we gotta prepare ourselves for when we think about getting a degree

Still, what's more important here, is the part where you feel like it is worthy, even after all that stress and straight up agony you may feel in the way. If you're motivated enough to think "yeah, I guess the outcome is what will actually count in the end for me" then there's a reason to keep pushing

But if that's not the case, and you just keep thinking that there's something wrong with that path, then you're in all the liberty to take a step back and really think about your next move, whether it is to keep going, or prioritize your health and well being in another way.

Please keep in mind that your happiness should always be the number one priority here, and because of that, you don't even have to apologize for being inactive, please take care of yourself first, think about your future, and remember that no matter what you choose to do, we'll be here for you to talk with <3

hi lovely, i cant put into words how much i appreciate this message. i’ve really been struggling with this decision and haven’t really talked about it with anyone except for my mom. my mom didn’t finish her first degree choice either, and our family heavily judged her for it. its part of the reason why im so scared of making the same choice bc i know they’ll be absolute assholes about it :/

but idk i kind of…i dont know if its worth it? i’ve always been interested in the criminal mind and how it works and why they do the things they do and how i could perhaps help them get rid off such things/urges. turns out, that field is forensic psychology instead of criminology. really wished they’d told me that at the info event but hey, i could’ve dug deeper myself too.

so i started looking; are there any masters at my uni in this field? good news is, there is! im, however, not allowed to apply with a criminology bachelor. so i called a bunch of people, asking them if there’s a way i can apply regardless (perhaps even taking a couple of extra classes) but the answer stayed no, i cant apply.

so it kinda feels like the only option for me (if i really want to do what i’ve always set out to do) is dropping out & applying for the bachelor psychology in 2023. the application deadline for this year passed already, unfortunately, which means id have to take a gap year

who knows maybe it’ll help my mental health lmao — but yea idk im just kind of stuck, like deep-down i feel like i know what to do. im just scared to do it bc of my family and bc it’ll feel like i wasted two years of my life on this degree :/

#so sorry for the rant anon #you gave me the opportunity so i took it my bad lol #but thank you i really needed it #lizzie answers #lovely anon <3

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the-darklings · 3 years

Text

coa one year later & self-reflection

(*drags out a creaky metal chair and plops down on it heavily*)

Hi. It’s me, ya boi skinny--

Wait, wrong one. Do over.

Hi, it’s me, Kat, and I’m not dead. Clearly. Today being one year anniversary of COA has kinda put me in a reflective mood, so I guess I decided to sit down and just...talk about some things, thoughts and feelings I’ve been bottling inside for a hot sec. Especially given how radio silent I have gone on here and people deserve a bit of perspective.

And before anyone starts worrying, it’s all good, and I’m still around and currently in good health for the most part.

So, let’s take it back to the start. Regardless of how dramatic it may sound, we need to go back a year for that.

By technicality alone, COA actually turned one year old on October 12th. That’s when the first part was posted. However, the reason I’m treating today as the aforementioned birthday is simple: I had no intention of this story ever being more than a short two-parter. I told this to the discord gang already but COA was only going to have two parts. V was going to die in Tokyo and the rest of the story follows glimpses of John throughout the movies and it’s her ghost that haunts him. Skipping ahead, it was going to have a bittersweet ending of John eventually dying, having completed his task, only to be greeted by V, Daisy and Helen in the afterlife. A peace of sorts. Then, I realised that, well, no. I have more to say on this world and intrigue about this placeholder character V kept growing.

November 1st happened and I made a very last minute call to continue COA but with the added pressure of doing it during NaNoWriMo 2019. And boy did I. Most of the story was figured out during that very intense month. I posted Part 2 on this day a year ago because I was so eager to share it. Perhaps, in retrospect, a bit too eager.

For those of you who may not know this, I work as a writer full time for my actual every day job. I’m the main writer for an original webcomic called In the Bleak Midwinter on Webtoon.com and have been for almost two years now. Getting what is essentially your dream job is amazing. I’m very lucky on that front but it also taught me stark realities of having your job and only hobby overlap. It’s a dangerous creative mix. Especially because I was not used to being constraint in what I create or the feeling like I have to please anyone else. Writing as a job is a whole other avenue of creative exhaustion. I love my job a lot and am very, very lucky to have it but it doesn’t change the fact that those initial stages made me fall back on COA a lot for creative freedom that I craved so desperately. To an unhealthy degree looking back on it now.

But going back to November last year. NaNo time. I did it. Finished on the 24/25th I believe. A juicy final count of 52k+. All while maintaining a weekly update schedule for a fic that usually hit around 10k per update, if not more, even during those early days. Add writing an original story on top of that. Writing every day for hours on end (we are talking 10-12hr days) without any time for other hobbies or time for myself in general. I kept pushing and pushing and pushing. Losing weight and sleep in the process. I think the thing that convinced me that I should continue doing so is the fact that the outpour of support for COA ended up surpassing anything I ever expected or even dared to hope for. I’m not a huge numbers person but the outpour of love and just sheer investment in the story and characters blew me away. John Wick fandom is on the smaller side and has been going through downtime when I posted COA so my expectations were...well, small tbh. I like keeping expectations low to avoid any disappointments in general. But I’ve also always had an issue of being a massive 0 or 100 kind of person. If I love something, it consumes me. In this case, it brought me as much joy and freedom as much as it was steadily pushing me towards the ultimate crash.

That being said, I can’t thank you all enough for every comment, like, reblog and message and fanart. You’re the reason I got this far. With your support. It brightened some really dark days for me.

But.

To be frank, it’s never been about you guys. I never wrote or pushed because I felt like I had to appease anyone. That creative mindset is pure poison and I long since learned to let go of it. I kept pushing and kept working myself to the bone because I liked it. I liked how reading peoples’ responses made me feel. I liked the addictive nature of reading all the comments and theories after an update. I loved the idea of brightening peoples’ days and giving them something to cheer them up after what might have been a shitty day. Even if that was at expense of my own time/well being. But for a long time, it wasn’t. I love writing a lot but facts remain facts.

It was beyond unhealthy and burnout wasn’t a question of if but when and that when was approaching at neck-breaking speed.

So we come to the end of November. Part 4 has just come out. People were invested and I was invested alongside them. I was just finishing up Part 5 which (back then) was the biggest single chapter I’ve ever written and god I still recall my sheer dread because that was the beginning of Santino being established as a LI. Looking back on that now, it’s downright hilarious how worried I was about the reception of him and V together after John.

So honestly, I hit burnout at around Part 8. Because that’s the first time I recall struggling with writing a chapter. Part 8 came out on December 28th. I had a brief break for holidays. But my mistake was not taking longer back then. Because I continued writing with a barely healed burnout. Followed by almost a year of struggling and continuously creating through that state. It wasn’t like I eased off the pressure, either. Oh, no. The chapters grew in size, the world and the characters with it. AUs amassed quickly and while I adore every single one - again, I didn’t know how to pace myself well enough.

I’m spiteful though. The more the chapters struggled the more I pushed against the burnout. By the time Chicago arrived, however, I knew I was in trouble. I ended up writing 43k+ in a span of 2 months, I believe. And while to some it may not seem like a lot given the time frame, it’s a lot when you’re burnout to a crisp & writing an original story for work + deadlines. Which I was burned out and then some. Chicago was something I was looking forward to writing for months. I have built it up since Part 4. It was a long time coming. So while I’m still proud of it, I would be lying if I said that some scenes were not sacrificed for the sake of keeping to my invisible schedule that no one but me actually cared about. You guys have always been patient. I never felt pushed into anything. It’s always only ever been me doing the harm.

Chicago was the downwards spiral for me mentally. I felt like I was failing to live up to my own expectations. That people were drifting away from it. I was plagued by the thought that the story I poured so much into was falling apart and growing weaker. Which this has always been an issue with me: I am my own harshest critic. Always have been. In fact, I’m a downright mean little fucker when it comes to just tearing at myself. I know writing is for fun - and it is - but I still like the idea of being proud of my work which only made everything worse despite the love each update received.

This takes us to the beginning of June. Specifically, June the 2nd. Or, as I like to call it: Kat Makes Another Impulsive Decision but This One Actually Works Out For the Better. On this day, I created the COA Discord server. And damn, I’m not sure what exactly I was expecting when I did ngl. I did it for fun and as an escape more so than anything. But somehow it ended up being the best decision I made in a long while. I know some of you are reading this. So love you lots, dorks. It’s such a privilege to be able to call so many of you my friends even outside of COA now. That little community has given me some of the best memories from this year and helped me to crawl out of my own metaphorical pit I was stuck in. Mentally, I’m doing much better than I did beginning of this summer. Which could be summed up as a constant self-hatred cycle and a feeling of inadequacy.

That, however, does not mean my burnout magically disappeared. If anything Chapter 17 just put a nail in the coffin so to speak. 2020 has been a shitty year just across the board for obvious reasons I don’t need to go into here but that can only partially be attributed to my mental state. Chapter 17 was...exhaustive. To say the least. But I was determined to stick with my vision and not split it up. I was also starting to be a bit more forgiving towards myself in terms of how long I may take to write it thanks to guys on discord though the feeling of failure and worry never quite faded fully. I’m proud of Part 17. Truly. But that was also when I hit rock bottom creatively on COA. It drained me completely.

I tried writing Part 18 for weeks after, day in and day out, not getting past the first scene and hating every word I wrote. So I took a deep breath and stopped. Figured I let it marinate and wait instead of trying to piece one of the most crucial chapters in this story like some Frankenstein monster two sentences at the time.

So my solution was simple: give myself some distance from it and write other things. Get my spark back. Of course that’s always a good idea. Having multiple creative escapes is the best thing you can do for yourself creatively. There was just one tiny little problem.

I was still burned out. Still am. The problem went deeper than just being burned out over COA. I was burned out over writing itself.

Which is an issue for a person who only has writing as a creative outlet.

I don’t have any other way to express myself. So I was stuck in a runt, trying to write because it’s the only thing that makes me genuinely happy even when I really shouldn’t have. And let me tell you. It’s a shitty fucking feeling. My burnout worsened. I had a thousand ideas but every time I tried to get them down it felt forced, fragmented, and weak. Repetitive and dry. Now, this is also in part because English isn’t my native language, so my vocab is limited as a result, but I hit that sweet rock bottom in that regard, too.

So, I worked on V (but in her OC form Clara), Lucien and The Elites. All those characters have grown so much since you last read about them. I have multiple original projects planned down the line that will feature all of them existing in their own world, with their own stories and no longer constrained by JW canon.

Which, finally, takes us to the end of October and beginning of November 2020.

I was convinced that the best course of action was to do NaNo again but with an original story this time (involving V). Suffice to say, it took a grand total of maybe 5-6 days and hating every second of writing it while also feeling like this project I’m so passionate and excited to write (still am) is just...going down the toilet to be blunt, to realise I may have made the wrong call.

Still, the stubborn ass that I am, I pushed through. Convinced I can get into it if I just keep going. The realizations that I am sharing with you right now won’t have been possible if it hadn’t been for a rather curious turn of events about a week and a half ago.

I recently bought a gaming laptop, all in preparation for Cyberpunk 2077 dropping ofc. But, in the meantime, I kept recommending a game to a friend on the COA server. That game? Far Cry 5. (It’s a blast to play btw, just a side note.) And playing it brought back all the feelings of nostalgia from the days when I used to write for that fandom. So I revisited some old work. Checked the stuff I never published and that has been sitting ducks in my docs for months and hoo boy. Let me tell you it was a vibe check of the worst kind.

The stark difference in the prose and the ease with which it flowed was...startling. It made me remember why I love writing so much and how proud I used to be of what I wrote back in the day. Which is not to say I’m not proud now, but it was just such a sharp dip in quality it was impossible to ignore.

So I didn’t.

I paused NaNo, moving it to another month. I paused writing for everything but work, which with our season coming to an end I will also get a rest from soon, too. I kinda paused in general. For the first time in a while, I finally forced myself to switch off. Rest.

The reason why I haven’t been on here is simple: guilt and not having energy to be on here. I like making my blog a safe space for everyone. Similar to escape it has become for me. I couldn’t pretend I was fine when I wasn’t. I felt obliged to perform and being here became exhausting. I haven’t been checking my inbox. Haven’t done much of anything except occasionally dropping by and reblogging a random post so people know I’m alive.

And that’s that, folks. That’s where I am currently. Resting. Completely exhausted mentally but resting. Getting my energy back.

So where does that leave us, huh? If you read this far, dunno what to tell you. Thanks, I suppose. It’s still odd to think people actually care about my existence sometimes.

I know what you’re likely thinking, too. So does this mean COA is never gonna be finished? What is gonna happen to it? Are you abandoning it?

The answer: no. 17 out of 25 chapters and 250k+ in, I’m too far in not to give it a proper conclusion. Not because I owe it to anyone other than myself. I want this story to be a stepping stone for my future as a writer. I want to prove to myself that I can get this done and finish it. As of right now (as you can no doubt tell with how long it’s been since last update) it’s on a soft hiatus while I rest. This rest? Not sure how long it may last. Right now, my plan is till mid December at which point I will reevaluate. Ideally, I finish the year with an update. But my New Year’s resolution is to finish COA. That timeline has become a little more murky now but, again, ideally it’s within the first quarter of 2021. Will that happen? I don’t know. And I don’t want to make false promises, either.

All I’m saying is that it will be done. I’m just no longer sure how long, exactly, it may take me to reach that Epilogue. I don’t expect many people to stick around for however long it may take me, but if you do, thank you. Truly. I really and deeply mean that.

So what’s on the cards for this blog in the meantime? Well, CP77 is coming out in under a month (if it doesn’t get moved again lmao rip) and I expect that to be my soft return to posting my writing on here again. We will see where the muse takes me, if at all. Regardless though, I’m excited.

One doctorate thesis later, here we are at the end of this really long rambling session. I hope that this has given you some perspective on things going on behind the scenes. I spared you some of the gorier details but I think this post has been long overdue. I suppose I, myself, was just too unwilling to face these things despite knowing about them deep down for a while now. I’m too self-critical not to notice but acting on correcting this behavior has been a whole other matter clearly.

Thank you for reading this post, my writing in general, and supporting me. I’m not going anywhere. I’m still around. More is on the way in the future. I’ll be seeing you all real soon. And all my love to all of you.

Love,

- Kat.

#kat speaks #blog psa #i suppose

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mxndoscyarika · 3 years

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Honeydew (Marcus Pike/Moreno x OC) | Chapter 7

Summary: Erin He moves to DC after working for the FBI in Texas and runs into a hero in disguise; Marcus Moreno. Something about him is familiar, too familiar, yet different in a way that she can’t quite place. Although confused, she can’t deny her feelings for him; perhaps, after years of regret, she finally found the one.

Warnings: food/drink mention, mention of dead loved one (Marcus’s wife), brief nudity, kissing

Ao3

Honeydew masterlist

Like my writing? Here’s my masterlist.

Author’s Note: Here’s the next chapter! I wanted to let them have a moment to just be together after everything that happened, and this was one (of many) of them. Enjoy!

“I just don’t understand why it’s not working. It doesn’t make sense.”

Sometimes she wondered why she had to be a supervisor that knew how to code. If she were non-technical, like many of her past managers, she could have simply told the developer to do some code reviews with his colleagues. Well, it wouldn't have been that simple either way, but at least she would get to go home.

Erin sighed and sat down by Brian’s desk. The empty coffee cups and notebook with scribbled ink was a familiar sight, though his desk did seem to be missing one crucial thing: a rubber duck. “Let’s just take a step back and go through the logic, ok? So we have that….”

She and the developer went through the specifications for the updates and the high-level implementations that needed to be done. It seemed like he managed to get most of the framework for the code set up; all that was left was, well, writing the code and making sure it was correct. However, the deadline for shipping the code was coming up in the following days, and he was still at the debugging stage.

Although it had been a while since she’d programmed anything in a work-related context, she thanked the CS gods that she still remembered enough to take on some of the debugging. Conveniently, Brian had prior commitments that night and needed to leave on time–as if an engineer’s shift was ever truly over. But while there were others who could help out, something told her that it would be faster if she did some of the debugging herself. After all, she’d just spent half an hour reasoning through the logic.

“Why don’t you finish up as much as you can, push your changes to the repo, and I’ll take a look later?” she suggested, scanning the code. At first glance it looked fine–as most code normally did–but there were obviously issues somewhere that caused all the tests to fail. “I have some other work to do, but if we can get everything ready within the next couple days I don’t think they will mind the update being slightly delayed.”

With that, Erin went back to making her rounds through the work area, picking up any stray folders and getting last-minute status updates from the others. The sky was already dark, any trace of the sun long gone. Normally she would be getting ready to leave soon, but there was more work to do ahead of the op she was leading.

Ignoring the vibrations of her phone, she made her way back to her office and set up her desk to keep working. One thing she’d learned over her years of experience as a supervisor was that an organized desk was crucial for concentration. If only other aspects of her life were as organized as her desk.

It had been days since she found out about Marcus’s secret identity, but she couldn’t help but still feel utterly stupid. She was stupid to think that she could move on. That she, for once, was enough.

The truth was that she was never enough. She wasn’t enough to bring Marcus back after his disappearance, and she wasn’t enough to make hiding his past life unbearable.

She would have been lying if she said she didn’t consider breaking things off. But at the same time, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. He said that he and Pike were the same, that everything they had was real. And if that was true, then maybe things would get better. They could try to make things work, and show up for each other. After all, wasn’t that what caused the mess anyways? Them not being there for each other at the most important moments?

Someone knocked on her door.

Erin didn’t look up from her work. “Come in.”

“Hi honey.”

This time she looked up, a small smile on her face. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at home with Missy?”

Marcus chuckled softly. “I guess I should, but my mom convinced her to stay the night so that we could have some alone time,” he explained, sitting in the chair in front of her desk. Eyes twinkling, he lifted a paper bag. “I texted you asking what you wanted for dinner but you didn’t reply, so I got your favorite.”

Now she really was smiling. “You brought canh chua? I’m sorry I didn’t reply, I’ve been running around the department trying to get everything together.”

“It’s alright; I figured you were busy, so I wanted to make sure you at least had dinner,” he said, pulling out the container of soup along with some utensils and a couple to-go bowls. “I know you love the bạc hà, so I asked for extra. They’re in one of the small containers, so we can add them in ourselves.”

“You’re too good to me.” Erin pushed her laptop to the side so he had more room to organize the slew of containers. The tamarind-flavored soup was often a treat rather than a regular meal, one that she normally savored in the cozy atmosphere of the Vietnamese restaurant. Her heart melted a little as she realized that Marcus had to have driven across town to get it from the restaurant.

“You deserve only the best.”

Some containers were filled with jasmine rice, fragrant and pillowy. Others overflowed with toppings like aromatic cilantro, spicy Thai chilis, and crisp bean sprouts. And, as promised, there was an extra container with fresh slices of bạc hà, the spongy stem of the elephant ear plant.

Her mouth watered as she helped fill the bowls with rice and soup, letting the golden broth soak into the grains. The tomatoes and pineapple chunks were perfectly cooked and plump, brightening the salty, nearly fruity, broth.

When she pushed the bowl towards Marcus he shook his head. “You eat first, Rin. You’ve had a long day. How was work?”

“Tiring,” she scoffed lightly, adding a questionable amount of chili to her bowl. The soup was still pleasantly warm when she scooped some into her mouth, the salt giving way to the fruity sourness and inferno of chilis. She moaned in satisfaction, “This is exactly why you are my favorite person in the whole world. Thank you for bringing this, brown eyes.”

He smiled softly, adding a significantly smaller amount of chili to his bowl. “Of course, honey. Just like the old times, huh?”

At that, Erin sighed. Sometimes she forgot that her memories of Marcus Pike were really of Marcus Moreno, and it still hadn’t ceased to be jarring when that realization hit. “Yeah.”

Noticing her hesitation, Marcus looked at her apologetically. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that–”

“No, it’s okay,” she interrupted, waving him off. “I just...I missed this. Us in an office sharing food in the evening. I never thought I’d ever get to experience this again, but now you’re here.”

His eyes softened and he reached over to hold her hand in his. Stroking the back of her hand softly, he said, “I know. I missed this too.” He shifted in his seat. “And I know we can’t go back to what we were before, but I don’t want you to feel like you need to separate our memories. They’re ours, honeydew. Nothing can take that away.”

“I know,” she said, eyes burning. “I’m sorry I’m not as happy–”

“It’s alright,” he interjected gently. “It’s not your fault. None of this is your fault.”

And, if she would let him, he was going to spend the rest of his days showing her how much she meant to him. It was a mistake–a huge one–to hide from her for that long. If time was money, he’d cost her so much. Maybe he wouldn’t ever be able to give those years back to her, but he could make the most of their time in the present. Now he just hoped his paperwork would get approved at HQ.

“I’m just so tired,” she said quietly.

Of everything. Of being herself, and of feeling like the biggest fool in the world for not realizing the man she loved had been in her life eight years ago.

She’d long since stopped caring about what her colleagues thought, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t pride herself on her intelligence and knack for details. With everything, she wasn’t quite sure what hurt most: the blow to her pride, or the fact that Marcus had lied.

But deep down, a part of her was happy. He finally came back, and while the past was wrought with cracks, the future felt...secure. And if there was anything she knew about Marcus, it was that he wore his heart on his sleeve, and that he wanted to stay for the long run. She knew that, no matter what, he wanted to make things right.

“Why don’t we head home after this, then?” he suggested, lips quirked up in a small smile. “They can’t get too mad if the smartest woman in the bureau takes the night off.”

---

“Would you like to stay?” she asked, unlocking the door to her apartment. Marcus’s car was parked in the visitors’ parking area, and it was starting to get late. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“I’d love to, if you’ll have me,” he answered, heat rushing up to his cheeks when her eyes met his. Even after all this time, he couldn’t get over the way she looked when she smiled at him like that. When she looked at him like he was everything she ever wanted.

They settled into the apartment as usual, with Erin checking on her plants and Marcus helping to plug in her laptop. Something about the way Erin moved around in the space was just...right. He’d seen her navigate government buildings and sites for operations, but at home, there was a different kind of confidence about her. It was a confidence that he knew only a select few were allowed to see.

Once they reached the bedroom, Marcus kissed her forehead and went into her bathroom. “Stay here, I’ll get a bath ready for you.”

Erin let out a huff of laughter at his eagerness, resigning to putting away her bag and changing into more comfortable clothes. As much as she loved a good suit, she also loved the warmth of sweatpants and the softness of silk. But seeing as she still needed to wash up for the night, she slipped on a silk nightgown, the hem stopping just above her knees.

Eventually, Marcus returned and led her into the bathroom, presenting her with a bathtub full of gardenia-scented bubbles and steaming water. He’d also found her electronic candles, placing them strategically so she could see in the dimmed lighting.

“It’s perfect, Marcus. Would you like to join me?” she asked, biting her lip in anticipation. The bathtub was just large enough for two people, and she wanted to know what it would feel like to be with him in her most vulnerable state. After all the secrets and waiting, she just wanted more .

He shook his head, trying to not let his mind linger too long on the way her nightgown hugged her chest like liquid gold. As much as he wanted to be with her, something told him that it wasn’t the right moment. “You’ve had to take care of yourself for so long, honey. Let me take care of you, ok?”

“But what about you?”

“Don’t worry about me.” Their lips melded together as their resolve grew strained. She tasted sweet and intoxicating, and it took all his strength to not give in. “You deserve to be treated like a queen. You’re my queen, and I want to make you feel good. Is that alright?”

She hummed softly and kissed him again. A low moan escaped her lips. “You really know how to make a woman conflicted, Marcus.”

“Sorry, it’s a bad habit.”

“I know you are. I’m just glad you’re here now,” she said. Pulling away, she stepped up next to the bathtub. Slipping the straps off her shoulders, she suggested, “If you’re not going to join me in here, why don’t you get comfortable and keep me company?”

The bath felt as amazing as it looked, the hot water melting away the tension in her muscles and the bubbles acting as a blanket to keep her modesty. Well, not that she hadn’t undressed in front of Marcus, but she wanted to keep some parts of her a surprise.

After some shy laughs, Marcus stayed by her side the entire time, sitting on the edge of the tub. It was just wide enough for him to sit comfortably, close enough that they could talk softly and he could help wash her hair. The golden glow of the candles and the warmth from the bath soothed their nerves until they were just two people in love.

Relaxed and back in her nightgown, Erin sat on her bed and checked her emails one more time. Thankfully, there weren’t any that she needed to reply to.

“Careful, hot tea incoming.”

She smiled up at Marcus, who was holding out a cup of steaming pu erh tea. Accepting it, she remarked, “I’m surprised you were able to find the tea leaves.”

“It helped that I remembered that you always have a designated cabinet.”

“I guess not that much has changed after all these years,” she said, sipping from the cup. As she did, she wondered if it was just herself that hadn’t changed.

“Dance with me?”

Her eyes widened in confusion when he broke the silence. “Hm?”

Marcus held out a hand, which she instinctively reached for. “Dance with me. Please?”

It didn’t take long for her to give in, setting the cup down on the nightstand. They swayed slowly in the bedroom, moonlight streaming in. Although there wasn’t any music, it was just what they needed. They just needed a moment in each other’s arms.

Erin’s head rested against his chest, the warmth from his body sinking into her. “I missed you so much,” she said softly.

“I missed you too.”

He missed her too.

But there was still something nagging at the back of her mind. Part of her didn’t want to disturb the peace, but she also wanted answers. Maybe it wasn’t the best time to ask him. Maybe it would undo everything. Before she could stop herself, she asked, “Can you tell me about your wife? Missy’s mom? Did she..?”

Marcus sighed softly, but not out of frustration. No, it was the kind that was borne of fondness. His arms tightened around her. “Yeah. We actually met not too long after I had my documents changed back. I didn’t want to tell her. I wanted a fresh start, but I still felt very much like Marcus Pike rather than Marcus Moreno. So, I told her about my past and we went from there.” A soft chuckle. “She was definitely shocked, but it was different because she never knew me as Pike, only Moreno.”

She wasn’t you, he wanted to say.

“I’m glad she knew,” she replied, snuggling closer to him. At least he told her, the mother of his child. It was...comforting to know that he hadn’t been all alone during those years. Eight years was a long time to keep a secret. “And what about now? Do you still feel like Marcus Pike?”

“Some days I feel more like Pike,” he admitted. “But with Missy and the Heroics, I feel like I’ve settled into being Marcus Moreno. It took a few years, but….Pike will always be a part of me. It wasn’t ever not me, just…a different side.”

“I see.” When his arms shifted, Erin clung to him tighter. “Don’t leave. Please.”

Marcus kissed her temple, his lips soft and warm. “Never again, honey. I’ll be here until you’re tired of me.”

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vanderlindemangofarm · 4 years

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The Van der Linde Gang - Jobs in a Modern AU

I’ve been really inspired to write about this lately and I’d love to hear your takes! These are the occupations that I think each gang member would have in a modern AU. Some were more challenging than others, but hopefully you guys can see where I’m coming from with each!

Arthur: Film location scout. His natural eye for photography and framing makes Arthur the perfect member of a pre-production team. His no-bullshit approach to everything means he keeps to deadlines, although he’s known to go wandering off into the wilderness for unknown amounts of time. He enjoys the lone working side of his job and finding exactly the right spots that would make the film come to life. He doesn’t always like the films once they’re finished (in fact he’s often bought cinema tickets and walked out half way through, grumbling that it wasn’t worth the popcorn) but he can’t deny the excited buzz he gets every time he gets hired. In his early years as an assistant he met Bertie Mason, a nervous but talented photography intern. Despite an ill-advised hookup after a week joined at the hip they have remained close friends and still go out on shoots together.

John: landscape gardener. John? Flowers? Yes, alright, I found it hard to believe too. But look, it’s not about the flowers, even if he does get misty-eyed at the sight of a sunflower in the early morning light. It’s about the challenge, the outdoors, and solving problems. After all the renovations he did to his house and garden (some more successful than others) John found how much satisfaction he got from digging and reshaping and planting. Don’t get me wrong, he’s often without a shirt, even in the colder months, much to the delight of some and the horror of others. He always makes friends with the household pets and is wonderful with the kids, always dropping his task to throw a frisbee around for a bit or cheekily accept an ice cold glass of lemonade from their mothers. Whenever he drives past one of his projects he feels himself glowing with pride - “I did that!”.

Dutch: philosophy lecturer. As always, late with Starbucks. Will he actually grade your essay? Will it mysteriously disappear? Keeps you on your toes, doesn’t it? Sitting precariously on the very edge of his desk, leather jacket hanging off his shoulders and losing his balance every 15 minutes, Dr Van der Linde is nothing short of a wonder. For the love of all that is holy, do not get him started on Kant. Kant has no place here. You want to talk about your precious Kant? Get your butt down to Dr O’Driscoll’s class, he has plenty to say about Kant. Perhaps a little too fond of Socrates. Plato who? Completely illegible handwriting and definitely sleeping with several members of the faculty. But somehow his students always walk away with excellent grades. At the end of each term Dutch takes everyone out to a local bar for drinks, insists on buying tequila which no one really fancies at 11am. Claims to ride a motorcycle called The Count which no one has actually seen. Impossible to hate, and he writes everyone great references for their summer internships.

Hosea: social worker. In a crisis, there’s no one better to knock on your door. Hosea has seen it all and he’ll see it all again, but that doesn’t stop him from treating every single case he gets with the upmost respect and care. His no-nonsense approach to his work means he gets things done, but he never sacrifices his compassion. He mostly works with teenagers and has a way of being able to connect to each individual without coming across as patronising. He’s been in the field for over two decades and is an invaluable mentor for any newcomers, always willing to share a word or two of advice or be a shoulder to cry on.

Javier: guitar teacher and music therapist. During his worst years, Javier’s guitar was his lifeline. And he wants to help others find their lifeline, too. He works on a freelance basis, mainly going into mental health hospitals, schools and prisons. He runs workshops focusing on guitar playing, but brings other instruments (mainly percussion) to try too. He’s a gentle teacher, always with a joke in his back pocket for when you need it most. He has nicknames for everyone and remembers everything they’ve ever told him. He’s patient and never lets anyone feel bad for making a mistake. Javier also runs an after-school guitar club at the local middle school alongside playing his own music at gigs whenever he can. No, he doesn’t reply to DMs no matter how thirsty they are.

Sadie: self-defense instructor. After surviving an attack several years ago, Sadie used her ferocity to get her qualification in self-defense to teach other women how to fight back should they need to. Her husband Jake helps out in her classes, happily allowing himself to be thrown around and slammed onto the mat as many times as required. Her students are terrified of her in the best and nicest way. Sadie also volunteers at a women’s refuge, providing emergency care and taking phone calls.

Charles: environmental campaign manager. Charles has always been drawn to charities and started doing voluntary work for Greenpeace when he was at university, securing an internship with them in Canada which led to a full time job. Whilst Charles mainly hosts meetings and organises events, he also works closely with elementary schools and runs workshops with outdoor activities, crafts and music. Last week they made bird feeders! It was awesome. He’s also a keen activist and regularly meets up with Javier to go to protests and community events, most recently for BLM.

Micah: motorcycle mechanic. Micah is massively invested in motorcycle culture and treats his beloved bike better than his own mother, if he still spoke to her. Although he pretends not to care, fixing bikes is his greatest passion and almost looks...happy when he’s doing it? Maybe? He likes knowing more than the people who stop by his shop and makes sure they know it. Occasionally he leaves his number on a scrap of paper inside women’s handbags when they’re not looking but for some reason none of them call. Like it or not, he’s incredibly skilled and will have your motorcycle singing a tune if that’s what you want. Euphemism? Of course not.

Abigail: nurse. She was so shy when she realised she wanted to pursue nursing - would people laugh at her? Was she too impatient, too nagging, too shrill? Her dyslexia always put her off going into further education and she was always discouraged by her parents. But with lots of encouragement from Hosea (who helped her to fill out her applications and other forms) and her friends, Abigail went to university in her 30′s to get her degree. She graduated top of her class and now works full time in her local hospital, based mostly in the emergency room. From drunken brawlers to tearful children and grumpy old men with lumbago, Abigail has learnt to keep her cool and to have faith in her own ability.

Molly: holistic therapist and masseuse. It took years to get that bastard of a philosopher out of her head (and out of her bed - damn those happy hour drinks “for old times’ sake”), but she’s finally free. Molly radiates a kindness that few took to the time to see, and she wanted to take strength from her past struggles to help others who may need someone to listen, just as she did. Molly took a bunch of online courses in various holistic therapies, including aromatherapy and massage, as this was something she had always been interested in. She runs a tiny clinic on a quiet street, the rooms filled with sunshine and the scent of geraniums. She also has a quite popular ASMR YouTube channel, Emerald Eyes ASMR, which she shyly admits just reached 500k subscribers. Her most popular video, ‘Irish Girl Helps You Fall Asleep (soft spoken, tapping, mouth sounds)’ just reached over a million hits.

Kieran: veterinarian specialising in equine care. Much like Abigail, Kieran didn’t like the idea of going back into education. He’d had a rough time of it as a teenager, dropping out of high school early and working a string of menial jobs for the next decade. They paid his rent, but he still felt poor. His favourite job, however, was working at a stable. The horses made him feel calm and he found that he could read them better than most people. He went to the library and read as much as he could about them. From there, he got himself an apprenticeship which paved the way for him to earn his degree in veterinary science. He smiled so hard in his graduation photo his eyes disappeared into his cheeks. He travels all over the local countryside, visiting farms and ranches to care for the horses. His confidence picked up after the first few blunders, and little by little he’s saving up to buy his own ranch one day.

Lenny: political science student. You know that kid who always looks amazing, even in 9am lectures? Yeah, that’s not Lenny, but he’s sat just behind. See him? Yep, the one rubbing sleep from his eyes as he pushes through the effects of another all-nighter. It’s not due to procrastination, but from perfectionism. He spends hour agonising over references, appendixes and even titles. One time he was so tired he signed his work “Ynnel”. He’s completely in love with his course and relishes every class he takes. Oh, he’s taking Dutch’s ‘History of Western Philosophy’ module by the way. Sitting in the front row, middle seat, directly in front of Dutch, his eyes glinting wickedly. Poor Dutch. Lenny has a counterpoint for absolutely everything and can barely stifle his laughter as Dutch gets more and more flustered. He’s been dating Jenny Kirk, an English Lit student, for the past few months and it’s going well. So well in fact, that he might stop hiding his Doctor Who merchandise every time she comes to his dorm room.

Tilly: business student. Tilly started university at the same time as Lenny and they still always go to the library together, rolling their eyes at each other over their morning peppermint lattes. Tilly is at the forefront of any and all on-campus activism. Think of Sam from Dear White People - that’s our Tilly. She wears her Ravenclaw scarf all autumn and winter long and posts scathing Instagram stories about the cafeteria food. But she’s powerfully kind and very ambitious, taking on a part time job tutoring kids with dyslexia in their reading and writing.

Susan: midwife. Think having a baby is scary? Try crossing Nurse Grimshaw. She’s here now, and that baby is coming out of you one way or another. She’ll hold your hand through thick and thin but if you dare say “I can’t do it” one more time she’ll unleash hell. Susan will make sure everyone has a job to do. Partner just standing there like a lemon? Not on her watch. She’s harsh but kind to her trainees and will always offer a cup of coffee and a shoulder to cry on, but there’s a time and place for slacking and it’s not on her labour ward.

Trelawny: talent agent. Our Josiah is cunning, infuriatingly charismatic and with an eye for the best of the best - what else could he do so effortlessly? He’ll wrangle you a 10 second role as a latrine cleaner in a non-profit film and he’ll still make you feel like the next DiCaprio. You’re a diamond, don’t you know? Of course you could nab Elphaba, we’ll worry about the singing later. How do you feel about cat food commercials? No no, it’s not pornography, it really is cat food this time - he double checked. On top of this, he knows everyone in the business. No, really. He can’t move 3 feet down Broadway without someone booming his name. The tone of said boom depends, of course, but who hasn’t been caught with his bottom out in that director’s wife’s en-suite?

Sean: outdoor activity centre instructor. You mean you can actually get paid to swim in lakes, ride ziplines through the forest and eat roasted marshmallows?! Sean couldn’t believe his ears. But it was true, and he’s living his best life. He may be on his penultimate warning for unruly behaviour, but he knows he could never really get fired. How could they? Everyone loves him. And to his credit, he’s a fantastic instructor, especially with kids. Everything from canoeing to caving, wild swimming to climbing, Sean has mastered it all and he always makes it fun. No one is allowed to feel left out or silly for not being able to do something. Sean has a way of making everyone feel included, even if you can only make it up the first few rungs of the ladder. Hey, that’s still off the ground! He once knew this feller Bill who cried because a moth flew into his face. You’re doing fine.

Mary-Beth: librarian and YA author. Sweet Mary-Beth, how could she be anywhere else but surrounded by books? She adores her job at her small, local library and is always looking for ways to make it even better. She often gets tangled up in the stories she reads whilst organising shelves, but it’s quiet enough most days that she’s rarely caught. She loves helping people find their books or recommending her favourites. She also runs the toddler storytime groups and a writing club for older kids. Of course, she’s also writing her own books. The first of her ‘Valentine Mysteries’ books made a modest profit and she’s excited to write more about the adventures of Leslie Dupont.

Karen: actress. Realising that she had a knack for accents and even after an especially successful high school lead role as Roxy Hart, Karen didn’t really acknowledge her would-be passion for acting for a long time. But she used her talents to get herself and her friends into X-rated films, dive bars and successfully pull off dozens of prank calls. It wasn’t until one of her friends was going to an open-call audition for a short film and wanted someone to go with her that Karen had her epithany. She was cast on the spot, much to the dismay of her friend. Since then, she’s been in a handful of arthouse films, a commercial here and there, and recently enjoyed a short run as Hermia in A Midsummer Night’s Dream at a small theatre downtown. Does she want fame and fortune? Honestly, she hasn’t really thought about it. Right now, she’s just enjoying the ride. And the phone numbers left for her at front of house from many admirers.

Strauss: financial loan adviser. Oh boy, perhaps you saw this one coming. Then again, maybe not. Old Leopold isn’t quite the two-pronged-tongued eldritch horror people often mistake him for. In fact, he actually advises people against loan sharks. He had his fair share of debts y’see and he genuinely doesn’t want anyone else to go through the same thing. He’s not exactly sweet and cuddly, but he might let you have a free pen if you call by his office. I mean, technically they’re not free but...never mind, just take it.

Bill: plumber. It was purely accidental that Bill bashed his way into his career. No, really. His sink was blocked and after an hour of poking and prodding the pipes he started hitting the poor thing with a spanner out of pure frustration, cursing all the way. To his shock, it worked, and he suddenly had running water again. What shocked him more is that he realised he wanted to know how. So, he bought a book. And he read the book. And one thing led to another, and now he’s the proud owner of Williamson Plumbing Inc. The money is very good, but for Bill that’s not it. You have to understand that for him, it’s the act itself of fixing something that brings Bill immense satisfaction. And Bill isn’t used to knowing more about something - anything - than those around him. For the first time perhaps in his life, he can sit down, solve a problem, and know that he’s done a good job.

Swanson: AA group leader. After getting completely sober almost a decade ago and staying that way, Orville wanted to give something back to the people who had helped him out so greatly. Becoming a volunteer to help those who were trapped where he was seemed like the only path, and it felt so right. Orville is there in meetings, making coffee, handing out donuts and training new volunteers. If anyone wants to talk about their faith he’s all ears, but he never pushes it as a cure-all in any situation. Orville’s sobriety has also meant that he’s learnt to make the most phenomenal mocktails.

Pearson: grocery shop manager and cooking teacher. Simon has his small grocery shop on the edge of town which has a wide range of regular customers. But he wanted to do more, so he set up a small class to teach fellow veterans how to cook. His wife helps out, and they grow the ingredients together in their garden and down at the allotment. It’s just an therapeutic for him as it is for his students, as he’s only just realising how much he wants to talk about his time in the navy.

Uncle: unknown. For the longest time, everyone thought Uncle worked at one of the worst dive bars in town, as whenever they stumbled in for a nightcap he was there, behind the bar, happy as a pig in shit. Turns out that he just started going there one night and no one could get him to leave. And so every evening he’ll appear like a phantom, sit himself in the half-broken chair behind the bar (clearly labelled “not for customer use”), order the cheapest beer on the menu and sit there until midnight. No one can understand how he gets the means to live as he ragingly denies receiving any government handouts despite his lumbago. Claims to be a veteran but hasn’t fought in any wars anyone has heard of.

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