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girlwiththepapatattoo · 4 months

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you see through me what lies beyond, Chapter 2

Warnings: vaginal sex, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, intimidation, Ganondorf being himself

Summary: Left alone in the Demon King's rooms, you pick up a new skill.

Notes: I hadn't expected to do a second chapter, but I managed to get an idea for a plot! Granted, I'm not sure where it'll go right now, but...that's part of the fun. If you spot any mistakes in this, feel free to point it out, I'm falling asleep editing lol <3

Read on Ao3 here!

Previous chapter

You wake alone. For a moment, you startle at the unfamiliar bed, the silk sheets under your naked skin, before memories of the previous night come rushing in. You feel your face go hot as you remember everything that happened. I can’t believe that I really…with him…

You roll over, pressing your hand to the space he’d been in when you fell asleep together. The sheets are cold. He must have gotten up early, you think. You stamp down on the rising disappointment. I doubt he’s a cuddler…

Slipping out of bed, you make a face at the lingering stickiness between your legs. You start to make your way to the bathroom, before pausing. On the table where you shared dinner last night is a place setting for one, and what looks like a folded piece of paper sitting in front of the plate. Smiling faintly, you grab the card as you head into the bathroom for a quick wash, opening it and reading it on the way. In tidy, efficient handwriting, it says:

My little beauty, I have work to do today, so you will not see me until dinner. You may read anything in my rooms that you wish; I cast a spell this morning upon your brow that will let you read our common tongue. Avail yourself of my bathroom. If you get hungry or thirsty, simply press your hand to your plate or cup and the food you want will appear. Above all else: Do not leave this room! I cannot guarantee your safety if you do. I would not see you killed so soon after you’ve arrived. Ganondorf

“Not until dinner, huh?” you murmur, disappointed. But you know that he’s a busy man, so you try not to take it personally.

You soak in the tub until pruny, enjoying the way that you can stretch out in the water as much as you want, even floating at one point. But your stomach rumbles insistently at you, and so you finally get out, wrapping yourself in a big, fluffy towel and heading out to eat. Breakfast is delicious, hearty and filling, with a variety of fruits that burst on your tongue.

And all the while, your mind is racing. Yesterday, so much happened that you couldn’t process it very well. (It didn’t help that you were very thoroughly distracted by a certain giant king, either.) But now that you’re alone without much to do, it all hits you like a truck.

The Legend of Zelda is real. Ganondorf is real. And this isn’t a game.

A part of you aches to go explore, wanting to see all the places you’ve only been to in pixelated form. But your lover’s warning gives you a healthy pause. This isn’t a game, and you were no warrior like Link. Odds are, if you were to meet one of Ganondorf’s minions, you would be killed. The thought made you shiver in fear.

And so, once breakfast is done, you peruse his bookshelves. Leather-bound volumes sit proudly in neat rows, and scrolls are tidily piled in drawers. Titles in languages you can’t read decorate the spines and covers of many of the tomes, and some books give you such a bad feeling that you don’t dare to touch them. But there are a fair few that are written in Common, and thanks to the spell he placed on you, could be read just fine. You settle on a bestiary of various monsters, thinking to arm yourself with some knowledge at least, and settle down into Ganondorf’s huge armchair before the fire.

This particular book is large to accommodate detailed pictures of monster anatomy, the binding sturdy and a muddy brown color. You read about the different monsters that one could encounter in the world, doing your best to commit them to memory. But when learning about their biology no longer holds your attention, you return to the bookshelves, looking for something different.

And indeed, you find it. Sitting there amongst the tomes is a thick book, written in common: Magic Primer. “Primer…that’s for beginners,” you murmur, and pull the book out. As your fingers touch the binding, a gentle warmth flows up your arm. It makes you smile, hopeful that this will be something you’ll be able to learn.

You quickly make your way back to the armchair, Ganondorf’s words from yesterday about your possible talent swirling through your mind. Excitedly, you crack the book open.

New student of magic, this author says to you: above everything else, above natural talent, above raw power, the one thing that a learner of magic must remember to be is patient. Learning magic is akin to befriending a feral cat. If you try too hard, it will run from you. Not hard enough and it won’t be interested in what you have to offer. And if you do not guard yourself, it will rip your throat out. As in all things, you must find balance, and be not discouraged if the power doesn’t immediately leap to your fingers. Patience, student, will get you far further than anything else.

“Patience,” you murmur. “Well, I’m stuck in this room until he gets tired of me, so I can do patience.”

You turn the page. The first chapter is about meditation, and how important it is to beginners learning magic. “It is highly recommended that new students meditate for at least an hour before trying anything beyond this chapter. A chaotic mind will yield chaotic spells, which can be dangerous for new practitioners,” you murmur, reading aloud.

You shift in place, following a diagram from the page about how you should sit. “Clearing one’s mind, for most people, is easier said than done. But it need not be full silence. A monotone hum can be even more effective than trying for nothing at all.”

You nod to yourself, lay your hands on your knees, close your eyes, and start humming. A soft, straight tone sound filters into the air around you as you focus on your breathing. You didn’t think you’d be any good at it, and it is difficult, trying not to latch on to the random thoughts that pop into your mind. But almost before you know it, the hour’s past. You shift, stretching out joints gone stiff from sitting in one place for so long.

The second chapter details some easy first spells. “A light spell is always handy,” you read, “and relatively easy to do. Hold open your dominant hand and fill your thoughts with light. Keep in mind, light can take different forms. If you think about firelight, a flame will light in the air above your palm, so be cautious. The easiest and safest is to think about pure sunlight, as it will result in a simple glowing ball of light.”

You open your hand above your knee and close your eyes. You think back to…just a few days ago, actually. On Earth, it’s the beginning of spring where you live, and the snows are beginning to melt. You’d stepped out of your door and felt the warm sun on your skin, the feeling pleasant enough to make you stop for a few moments just to enjoy it.

It’s that feeling that you bring up. The light against your eyelids, the warmth on your face, the uplifting feeling it gave your spirit…so strong is the memory you nearly feel sunlight on your skin now.

Wait…

Your eyes snap open, and hovering above your palm is a baseball-sized orb of light, giving off a softly radiant glow.

You gape it as it floats above your hand. You did magic.

You did magic.

You did magic!!!

You’re so excited that your mental control over the spell is thrown out the window, and rather than just fade, it bursts into motes of light that slowly disappear, like a tiny firework that reflects your elation. You all but squeal in delight. “Holy shit, I can do magic!”

Your stomach takes that moment to grumble, but you didn’t want to stop now. So you take up the book and move to the plate on the table. “Let’s see if I can figure out how to make the light stay without concentrating,” you murmur as the tray conjures you lunch.

And so it is that later that night, when Ganondorf unlocks his door and enters his room, he’s met with dozens of globes of light, softly shining and floating in the air, and you in the process of making another, still only clad in a fluffy towel.

He stares in shock as he watches you gently toss out another globe, which comes to rest a few inches from one that’s already made. He closes the door behind him, locks it, and snaps his fingers. At once, all the globes go out. You gasp, jumping in sudden fright as the room is suddenly much darker than it was, and you turn to look at him. Those golden eyes all but glaring down at you make you swallow. “Y-You’re back! Ganondorf, I-”

“What do you think you are doing?” he all but growls at you. He walks toward you, slowly, and you feel your spine trying to disintegrate. You’ve never felt so small, so insignificant before in your life, like a gnat before a colossus.

“I’m sorry, I…I found this book!” You hold out the primer in front of you like a shield. “I-I was just curious, I didn’t think it would actually work, but then I made a light, and-”

You cut off with a yelp as he snatches the book from you, flipping through the first couple pages. He’s quiet for a few minutes, before uttering, “Have you tried any other spells?”

“N-No! I swear, I only did the light spell!” you gasp.

He closes the book and sighs as he takes in your terrified appearance. “...that is well then.” He offers you the book back, which you gingerly take. “I did not mean to frighten you. But magic can be dangerous to learn on one’s own. I would be cross if you’d burned up my room.”

You figure that’s as close to an apology you’re likely to get from him, and your shoulders start to relax. A little, anyway. “I…I wouldn’t want to learn the more dangerous spells on my own anyway. I’m not stupid,” you mumble defensively.

“Glad to hear it,” he rumbles wryly. He tilts his head slightly, and despite himself a hint of curiosity enters his gaze. “How long did it take you to perform the spell the first time? Tell me about your method.”

You perk up, and you start grinning. “Okay, so, the book said that before you start on magic work for the day that you should meditate to calm your mind, so I did that. Then, the light spell said to ‘imagine a light source, but be careful if it’s fire.’ It suggested sunlight, so I just…” You explain to him your thought process. “...and when I opened my eyes it was there, above my palm!”

He looks surprised. “That easily?”

You nod eagerly. “That easily! I was so surprised and excited that the spell sorta burst, it was pretty.”

“I see.” He looks thoughtful. Then he suddenly scoops you up with one arm and strides to the armchair, sitting and settling you into his lap. His arms wrap around your waist, and he curves his chest over your back. “Show me. Perform the spell again.”

You’re a little breathless from being manhandled like that-one night in his presence wasn’t nearly enough to get you used to this. But you nod and close your eyes. “Give me a moment to settle my mind again.”

Amusement enters his golden gaze, as if he knows exactly what you’re thinking. “Of course.”

You both sit there in silence as you calm down. Though, it was easier said than done: the fact that you could sit cross-legged in Ganondorf’s lap and still have room left over was…very distracting. But eventually, your emotions settle, and you open your eyes. “Okay.”

He watches you as you lift your hand, but he’s not just watching your physicality. He’s practiced enough in the arcane arts that he can feel other people’s energies. He hadn’t been kidding yesterday when he told you his thoughts about you and sorcery, but not just because your feelings were able to breach dimensional boundaries. He can feel a wealth of energy inside you, locked behind your world’s limitations. But upon traveling to a world where magic is common, those limitations were shattered, and now your energy flows freely.

He watches as it travels from your heart and brain, the epicenters of magical force, down your arm, up through your palm to curve into a ball and burst into radiant light. It took all of two seconds. It hovers there, casting a cheerful light over the area. You grin up at him.

He watches it for a moment. “Show me how you anchor it.”

“Okay.” You close your eyes again. He watches just a tiny sliver of your energy break off from the main body of the pool available to you. It sticks through the ball of energy as if nailing it to a wall, and you take your hand away, letting it float there.Ganondorf reaches out, poking at the orb, trying to move it–but it stays firm.

“...I have to admit, I am fairly impressed,” he finally says. You light up, almost brighter than the orb you’d created. “Do not get me wrong, this is a beginner spell. Creating light is not difficult for even children, once they have even a rudimentary grasp of their own energy. However…” He leans back in the armchair, looking thoughtful as you turn around in his lap to face him. “You performed this spell instantly the first time you tried it. That is rare. And to follow it up, in your first session ever using magic, with a holding technique?” He nods. “I will give credit where credit is due: that is very well done.”

You beam happily at him. “Thank you! I didn’t think something like that would impress you, I’m honored.”

He nods. “As you should be. However…this will be the last time that you practice magic by yourself.”

You blink, your stomach sinking like a rock. “...why?”

“Like I said, I do not want you burning down my room. I have too many important documents and relics in here. Instead, starting tomorrow, you will learn directly from me, in a training room much more suited.”

Your jaw drops. “You…you’re going to teach me yourself?!”

“I am. Your potential is too great to leave to someone else. I will see to it personally.”

“Holy shit,” you breathe, and he rumbles a chuckle in amusement. “I…well, I’ll do my best to learn.”

“Of course you will. I do not expect any less.” He watches you for a long moment, before reaching forward and capturing your chin in between his thumb and forefinger. “Be warned: I will push you to your limits.”

You swallow hard, but smile faintly. “I figured you would. You’re good at that.”

His lips quirk up into a smirk, and he leans forward, so close his nose brushes yours. “Am I? Is my little beauty thinking of last night?” he purrs.

Your heart rate ramps up, your eyes blowing wide. “I’m sitting in your lap and you’re about to kiss me. How could I not?” you whisper back.

He abruptly grabs your hips, and he yanks you forward against his chest. “I do enjoy how eager you are, little one,” he whispers into your jawline, nipping playfully as his right hand lifts to curl gently around your throat. Heat explodes into your veins, and your gasp is music to his ears. “I like the thought that you are so eager, you would do anything I ask. Would you not?”

You whimper, trembling at his touch, your hips already pressing forward into his. “V-Very nearly, yes,” you gasp.

He chuckles, low and dark, the sound curling lithely into your core. “As I thought.” Then abruptly, he plucks you from his lap and stands you next to his chair. “However,” he says, standing as you sway a little, “I have not eaten anything since breakfast. Delicious as you are, you are not very filling.” He smirks down at you as he moves for the dining table. “I will save you for dessert.”

You gape at his back in disbelief as he leaves you there. The heat is rapidly dissipating as you realize that he’d been only playing with you, and you huff, blushing darkly as you come over to take your seat at the table. “You’re a damn tease, Gan.”

He flicks his hand at the covered platter, and when he removes the cloche there are slices of roasted beef, smelling of spices and something like wine. There’s also steamed vegetables, and on the other plates appear fresh fruit. It’s a very well rounded meal. “I do not recall giving you permission to shorten my name,” he muses, raising an eyebrow as he serves you a portion of the food.

You flush faintly. “Well…your full name’s a bit of a mouthful.” Much like other things, you think, though you don’t say it out loud.

“Even so. One night of passion does not entitle you to such…familiarity. Not yet, anyway. You will call me Ganondorf, or my lord. Understood?”

You glower at him. “If that’s what you want, then fine. But it feels weird being so formal with you, and not just because we…we had sex. I grew up knowing you and your stories, for God’s sake.” You pause as his eyes flick to yours. “How about a compromise? Can I call you Ganon?”

His lips purse in disapproval. “I am not Ganon. Ganon is my bestial form, and you should know that.”

“I do, but that doesn’t mean-”

“I have given you your options,” he says firmly. “If you cannot follow my wishes on such a minor subject, how am I to trust you to follow my orders when I teach you magic?”

Despite yourself, you wince and look down. “All right…I’m sorry, Ganondorf.”

“Apology accepted.”

He goes quiet after that. You examine him as you both eat, though you try your best to be subtle about it. He’s perfectly mannered, but his eyes are miles away. You wonder what he’s thinking about, if there’s some problem with his plans. You wonder if it’s Link and Zelda…and that thought makes you freeze, your eyes going wide in sudden realization.

“Could I ask you a question?” He grunts an affirmative. “If you die, am I stuck here?”

He looks at you sharply. “Why are you thinking of my death?”

You hold up your hands placatingly. “I’m not! I mean, I am, but not in-I don’t want you to die, that’s not what I meant. But generally, if you’re alive then Zelda and Link move against you, and that tends to lead to you dying. What if you die while I’m still here?”

He stares at you for a long moment, before sighing. “If they were to slay me, yes, you would be stuck here. But they would not kill you, as you are not part of my plans. You are only my companion.”

“All right…” You look down, swallowing slightly as you cut another piece of beef. “That would…kinda suck. I mean, not only do I not want you to die, but I wouldn’t know where to even start about living in a fantasy realm.”

He snorts. “Yes, a world of much lower technology would be a culture shock for you. But once Zelda learns that you know about…all of us, I am sure she would provide for you.”

“You think?”

“Of course. Not only because she is kind, but because you would be a source of information for her.”

You smile ruefully. “Wisdom.”

The tone of your voice sounds almost resigned, and he chuckles without much humor. “Wisdom. You understand better than I thought you would.”

“The outside perspective helps with that.”

“Indeed.”

It goes quiet again, save for the snap of the fireplace and the clink of utensils. Only once the food is gone does he turn to you. He smirks, his eyes roaming your form, and he flicks his fingers. The platter and plates disappear from the table. “Stand.”

You flush, but you push your chair back and stand before him. “Good girl,” he rumbles, and the praise makes a shiver run up your spine. “Come closer.”

You step forward, and as soon as you’re within reach he grasps you and lifts you from the floor, stripping the towel off and laying you face down on the table. You gasp as he pulls your hips up into the air, his enormous hands framing themselves around your ass cheeks. “Ganondorf!”

He chuckles, a low, amused, aroused rumble as his eyes feast on the view before him. “Yes? I told you that I would have you for dessert, did I not?”

“You did, b-but I didn’t think you meant it literally!”

He snorts. “Rarely am I anything but literal, little one. Now, unless you’re crying out in pleasure, hush.”

You flush darkly as his thumbs pull your lower lips open. You glisten in the firelight, and in the light from the nearby candles, and he watches with relish as your weeping hole twitches in arousal. He says nothing, just emits a pleased near-growl as his eyes roam your folds. His right index finger hooks gently over your labia, leaving his thumb free to rub teasing circles over your entrance. A choked cry is muffled into the table top as all the eager nerves are stimulated around your hole, and he smiles when he feels your thigh muscles twitch under his left hand.

His thumb suddenly sinks into you, punching a curse out of your lips. He plunges it in and out a couple times, watching the way your slick builds around the digit, before he pulls it out to swipe once over your clit.

He chuckles as your hips buck.

His right hand leaves your ass as he sinks one long, thick middle finger into you. Your fingernails scratch against the table top as that finger slowly undulates, and your hips move of their own accord, pressing back to meet his intruding digit. His left hand tightens on your hip, forcing you to stop.

“You will move when I tell you to,” he growls, and all the while his finger continues to move, to slide along your slick walls.

“P-Please,” you gasp in vain. You know after last night he doesn’t respond to your begging until he’s good and ready.

He smirks, his golden eyes darkened and molten, as he watches your quivering cunt responding to him. He watches the way your clit engorges under its hood, wanting attention. He watches the way your juices drip down your folds, squelching around him.

And then he adds a second, stretching you around his massive fingers.

“FUCK,” you shout, your hips twisting against his grip as he slowly presses forward. His pace is achingly relaxed, not because he thinks you need him to go slow after last night, but to torment you, the sweetest torture. “Please, please, I-I need more!”

“Is that so?” he replies, his tone as casual as if talking about the weather.

“YES! Please, Ganondorf, please!”

The second please is barely out of your mouth before his thumb is suddenly swiping rapidly over your clit, before his fingers in you suddenly piston rapidly. You shriek in pleasured surprise, your left arm shooting out and knocking a cup off the table with a clang. He laughs as you writhe against his hold.

And then he slows back down. You whine in protest, feeling the beginnings of an orgasm fade back into your belly, and your clit throbs.

He stands, suddenly, but your hips come with him, and you yelp as you hang upside down, your thighs hooking over his shoulders. Your face is pressed now against his clothed erection, his cock firm and hot against your cheek through his pants. His left arm is wrapped around your lower back to keep you there, while his right stays where it is, his fingers still deep in you.

He says nothing, and you get no more warning, before his lips wrap gently around your clit. Your fingernails dig into his thighs and pleasure surges up your nerves like a lightning storm. His lips work gently around your clit, not sucking, just rubbing, and you choke on a sob of pleasure.

You can feel it building again, the beginnings of your orgasm, rolling in the base of your belly as he works you with all the patience in the world. His hips never once twitch despite the massive erection under your face; he’s fully focused on you, on making you lose your mind in desperate need.

Impaled on his fingers, orgasm building achingly slowly, his beard tickling your labia and inner-most thighs, you cry out his name like a prayer.

Then his tongue begins to swirl rapid, tight circles on your jutting clit, and his fingers piston once more into your aching cunt, and you explode into blinding pressure and heat. He growls against you as your walls seize his fingers in a velvet vice, and before you could even realize that he’s pulled his pants down, you’re bent over the table and he’s pushing into you. You scream his name as his fingers keep rubbing your clit, your orgasm not stopping as his cock spears you open. He bends almost in two over you, biting down against your shoulder as your walls do their best to milk him. His hips slam into your ass, his cockhead hitting a spot inside you that sends lightning up your spine, and with a bellow he follows you into bliss.

Your body buzzes as he empties himself into you, his teeth leaving your shoulder, replaced by his lips and his rapid breathes, exhaled through his nose. His hips keep pumping, slowly, sliding his softening cock through the mess he made of you. You whimper his name, going boneless on the table under him, shivering as sweat cools on your lower back, on your thighs, in your hairline.

He gathers you up, making you gasp as his cock slips out of you, and he carries you into the bathroom. You smile tiredly against his shoulder as he lowers you into the water. “I have a feeling we’re going to be in here a lot,” you murmur.

He smirks. “I have a feeling you may be right,” he rumbles as he sheds the rest of his clothes. “But I do not see you complaining about it.”

His smug tone makes you want to argue…but you can’t. After all, your new favorite pastime is letting the Gerudo King turn you into a whimpering, dripping, desperate mess.

Not that you’d say that out loud, anyway.

#ganondorf #loz ganondorf #ganondorf x reader #my writing

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supercriminalbean · 8 months

Text

Bookstore

Aaron Hotchner x GN!Reader.

Summary: Aaron runs into the reader at the bookstore and has to ask them on a date.

Words: 1.8k

Warning: Kissing otherwise just fluff. (Let me know if I missed anything)

Aaron smiles as he glances back at Jack, enjoying the way his son rumbles about the book he’s looking forward to getting. Aaron chuckles softly in response as he focuses back on the road, driving to the book shop. The book shop, he was going to one a little far from his house, and why is that? Well simply because he knew someone

else was going to be there today, and even though he only saw them yesterday he couldn't help but want to see them again. He soon pulls up outside the shop, getting out, helping Jack out of the car seat, his boy full of joy as he pulls his father into the store. Laughter erupts from Aaron as he follows his eager son inside, taking him straight to the children's area. They both look through the books, Aaron finding the books Jack has wanted forever, pulling them off the shelf for his son.

“Oh you wanted ‘Charlie and the Chocolate factory’, right?” Aaron hums softly, a light smile across his face as he finds it on the shelf, his eyes leaving his son for a moment. Aarons eyes narrow when he doesn’t get a response.

“Jack?” Aaron calls for him, just as his eyes drop down to his boy, well where his boy is meant to be. “Jack” Aaron calls more panicky, his eyes scanning around him, but no sight of the small boy. Aaron has to hold himself back from going full agent, his mind spinning with every single missing kids case he has ever worked. He moves quickly to the end of the aisle looking around, to see where he could have gone. Luckily his panic vanishes quickly as he sees Jack in the arms of his coworker. A huge smile on your face as you hold Jack in one arm and a pile of books in the other, laughter filling the gap between you and Jack.

“No need to panic Aaron, I got him” Smiling softly as your eyes land on your boss, making your way over to him, putting Jack on the ground who runs over to his dad with a sheepish look on his face.

“Jack, you know better than to run off like that” Aaron gently scowls at him, pacing a soft hand on his shoulders.

“I know, sorry dad, I just saw them, and wanted to say hi” Jack pouts softly, glancing up as he gives his dad his best puppy dog eyes. You can’t help but laugh lightly at them, the way Aaron worries and fear just eases from his face as soon as he sees his son.

“He’s a fast one” Smirking faintly at him as you meet his eyes, your stomach feeling as it explodes as you do. Aaron can’t help but chuckle in response, a warm loving smile spreading across his face.

“That he is, I swear I only took my eyes off him for one second” Aaron's smile grows as he looks at you, thinking back to how comfortable and lovely you looked while you held his son.

“Can we go look at books now” Jack groans, squirming under Aaron touch, just wanting to run back to the kids section.

“Sure buddy let's go” Aaron smirks at his son's impatience.

“Wait, (Y/n), join us” Jack grins up at you, excitement boiling out of him.

“Oh I don’t want to intrude kiddo” You glance over at Aaron, hope that he also wants you around.

“You would never intrude, come on” Aaron eyes flicker down a small blush flutter over his cheeks, before he looks back at you.

“I would love to then” Smiling brightly at him, before moving closer.

~~~

The rest of the afternoon is full of joy as you three search for books, Jack and Aaron demand to help you find the books you were looking for. Mainly because Aaron didn’t want this afternoon to end so soon, didn’t want the relaxation and comfort he feels with you to end. It's always different when he hangs out with you outside of work, or even at work, you are the only person to refer to him as Aaron, not Hotch and it feels nice.

“So, Aaron” You smirk at him as you three make your way out of the store, and towards his car. “You know if you want to spend more time with me after last night, you could of just asked instead of running into me at the bookstore I mentioned to you” Smirking teasingly at him, your heart fluttering as you see his blush creeping up his neck at being called out.

“I have no idea what you're talking about (Y/n)” Aaron smirks at you, a cocky look over his face.

“Yeah right Hotchner” Rolling your eyes as you laugh lightly, smiling happily as you read the emotions he’s trying to hide from you. “See you Jack” Smiling at the young boy, as you kneel down to give him a hug.

“Bye bye (Y/n)” Jack wraps his arms around you tightly with the biggest grin on his face, which just makes Aaron's heart soar and his mind made up.

“See you monday Aaron” Turning to look at your boss, his face covered in a smile full of love.

“Or tomorrow, maybe for a cup of coffee” Aaron clears his throat as his nerves start to show up, his eyes flicker down as he speaks, before glancing back up at you with hope. A smile breaks across your face as you bite your lip softly, your heart feeling like it's going to collapse with the love it's feeling.

“Are you asking me on a date Aaron Hotchner?” You can’t help but tease him, seeing the nerves of this man has got your heart wrapped around his pinky.

“Well I’m trying to” He lets out a small chuckle as he looks into your eyes, feeling at home in them.

“Then it's a date, I’ll see you then Aaron” Grinning happily to yourself, before walking towards your car, but just before your out of ear shot you hear your two favourite boys celebrating.

“Go dad” Jack cheers, followed by Aarons beautiful laughter.

~~~

The next morning, you couldn’t contain your excitement as you got ready for the day, but most importantly your date. This date feels completely different to all your other dates, for once you're not full of nerves, you're not worried about what to wear or what topics to speak about or avoid. Maybe that's because you're already friends with Aaron, or maybe because it's Aaron. The most sweetest and thoughtful guy you know, the one who isn’t afraid of deep conversation, the one who has seen you at your worst and never left your side. Maybe because you two already know each other so well so all the cards are already displayed, you both know what you're getting into.

When you walk into the coffee shop a couple hours later, your eyes automatically land on him, sitting by the wall in the middle of the shop. Your smile widens as your eyes meet, a grin erupting over his face as you make your way over to him.

“Hey” Taking a seat across from him.

“Hey, you made it” Aaron grins back up at you, enjoying the view of you in front of him.

“What afraid I would stand you up, huh?” Laughing softly as you lean back into your chair.

“Not at all, I even ordered some drinks. I hope you don’t mind” Aaron smiles as he looks you over.

“You know what I drink?”

“A large caramel latte, extra shot and not too hot” Aaron smirks when he sees the impressive look on your face.

“Good job profiler”

“More about being around you too much than a profiler” Aaron laughs as they call out his name, which he politely excuses himself to go grab the drinks. He returns shortly with the drinks and conversation starts to flow on by.

“I always forget how much of a bookworm your kid is” Laughing at the story he’s finished telling you, about how he couldn’t get Jack to stop reading last night before bed time.

“I don’t know where he gets it from” Aaron chuckles, before sipping on his coffee.

“Well seeing as your nose is normally stuck in a file I could probably tell you” Teasing the man again, enjoying the way his eyes roll backwards.

“You just love to tease me don’t you” Aaron licks his lips as he looks into your eyes. This is his first ever date that he has ever felt at home when looking into his partner's eyes.

“Oh I truly do” Chuckling lightly as you glance away from him.

As the conversation carries on smoothly, full of laughter and comfort there is no doubt in either of your mind that you want to do this again.

~~~

Of course Aaron's phone has to ring and pull you both away from this precious moment.

“We have to go in?” Your smile drops just a little as you watch the expression on Aaron's face, his professional boss face.

“Yeah we got a case, it's a bad one” Aaron groans as he stands up, his face full of trouble.

“Hey, at least we don’t have to explain to each other the difficulty of our job” You joke, trying to lighten the mood, which you happily succeed in, a soft smile picking at his lips.

“I guess you're right” Aaron smiles, leading you both out of the store and towards both the cars.

“Well I don’t know about you Aaron, but I really enjoyed today” Smiling up at him as you lean against your car, your eyes glancing down to his lips before settling back on his eyes.

“So did I, maybe when we get back from the case we can do it again?”

“I would love that, ohh maybe we could go to the movies, the new spiderman is coming out and I know Jack would love to go to it” Beaming up at him as you remember how much his kid was rambling about it yesterday.

“That sounds perfect, I’ll see you back at the office soon then” Aaron smiles.

“Sure, I’ll race you” Laughing softly as he turns away, heading to his car.

“Don’t break any laws” He calls back.

“No promises sir” Laughing as you go to open the door, before someone is grabbing your arm and pushing you into the car. Your head swings up to see Aaron staring down at you, his hand cupping your jaw, before pressing his lips against yours firmly. You can’t help but melt into the kiss, closing your eyes as you enjoy his touch. Eventually he pulls away from you, a playful smirk playing on his face as he glances down at you.

“Don’t be late” He chuckles as he makes his way to his car, leaving you there speechless and breathless. Oh that man is going to be the death of you.

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner x gn!reader

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ashes-writing · 2 years

Text

caught up in you | stranger things ; s.harrington

A/N ; So apparently, these 'reader' one shots are coming to me like crazy. This one is kind of a sequel -it doesn't have to be but.. that's kind of how it came out, IMO, to the one I posted yesterday? I think it was yesterday. So I'll link that one below in case anybody wants to read it. I miiight be working on more for Eddie and his new girl reader and I'm kind of... toying with Jonathan Byers x Insecure!Popular reader that was kind of inspired by a poison song or sumn, idk. So... there's a bit more Stranger Things content coming your way.

I haven't forgotten the dual oc fic, I'm just being picky with it before I post it here -despite knowing people might not like it as much... But you guys seem to like these so like.. I think I'll keep doing them. Also yes this is a .38 Special song fight me byeee.

Pairing ; Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Summary ; just a little morning domestic fluff between you and Steve set post events from oneshot Mine.

Timeline / Other Stuff ; Uh.. Probably between season 2 and 3 if I had to guess.

Tag List ; @rampagewriting - feel free to ignore if you want to, bb! There's not anybody on my actual official stranger things tag list. If you want to be added, please lmk or add yourself by the doc linked below.

Other Stuff ; tag list || rules + fandoms and some of the characters I write for || requests are open - i'm only taking headcanon / nsfw/ sfw alphabet letters for any fandom/character but professional wrestling. || mine - the unofficial first part

Warnings : uh.. morning after fluff. Sliiightest hint of bite marks mentioned, heavily hinted at reader having given up their virginity the night before, kissing -so much kissing. This one is safe for you kiddos.

When he wakes up and the bed is empty, at first he thinks that maybe what happened the night before was just a super vivid dream. Or maybe you woke up next to him, regretted what you’d done and slipped out quietly.

But he starts to wake up a little better. And the scent of pancakes wafts in through his open bedroom door followed by the sound of Rod Stewart playing on the radio down in the kitchen. His parents aren’t home, when are they ever? And so this draws him out of bed.

The sight that greets him in the kitchen is one that he only ever imagined in his wildest dreams. You’re dancing around the kitchen to the song on the radio as you hum softly. His eyes are glued to every little sway of your hips and he’s just blown away because nobody, not even his own parents.

This isn’t something he’s used to. Like at all.

Just as Bennie and the Jets starts to play on the radio, he reaches out, lowering the volume of the music. And he stops behind you, wrapping his arms around you as his lips graze against tender and kiss bruised soft flesh on the side of your neck.

“Thought you mighta left.” he mumbles husky and the warmth of his breath tickling your ears, sending a slow and lazy warmth to settle in the pit of your stomach. You turn in his embrace to look up at him, your arms around his neck and your hair piled up messy on top of your head wearing one of his old shirts.

The puzzled frown on your face makes him chuckle quietly. And that blows him away too because it clicks. You’d never even considered leaving. You bite your lip, eyes lost in the depths of his sleepy gaze. Grimacing when you see just how purple the bruise on his jaw is today. Or the way the outer corner of his eye is also purple and a little swollen.

“You didn’t, ah.. You didn’t want me to leave, right?” you ask the question because you’re confused. You’ve never done this sort of thing before, it’s all new to you. All of it.

The fact that Steve Harrington is the guy who took your virginity is still mind blowing, even more so in the light of day as you stand body to body with him in the middle of his parents kitchen.

The fact that you let him do it still has his mind blown. It was huge for him but you don’t know this. The fact that you trusted him like that. That you were so needy, that you couldn’t keep your hands or your mouth off of him the night before. It was the first time he ever actually felt a connection, like that void inside that he tried to ignore was gone.

And you were still here, still with him.

He takes your face in his hands and when his mouth meets yours it’s not needy or urgent, borderline desperate this time. It’s slow and gentle. Deep. Your back winds up pressed against the edge of the kitchen island and he lets you melt against him with your arms around his neck. Eventually his lips stray from your lips and his mouth locks onto your skin, his teeth sinking into a shallow bite mark he left behind the night before, -one of too damn many all over your body, and he gives this deep sigh of content. Leaning into you a lot heavier. “No, no. No, baby. I wanted you t’ stay, alright?”

He locks eyes with you when he says it. Desperate to make you understand that he means it. As if he’s scared you’ll misunderstand.

You’re smiling again and a shaky breath leaves his mouth. “Why’d you get up, hm?” he pouts a little.

You bite your lip and nod to the pancakes on the plate next to the stove. “I was starving. D’y’ know I somehow managed to totally forget breakfast and lunch yesterday? Because when I woke up with my stomach growling I–’ you were rambling, you had a tendency to do that sometimes. You went quiet and he chuckled, the sound soft and from the depths of his chest.

He gazes down at you in concern. “How the hell do you forget to eat?”

You shrug. “Not hard when you also forgot to do all your homework and wind up spending all of lunch in the library.”

“Babe..” he’s giving you this look as he leans in all over again. “You didn’t have to do all this. I coulda got a pizza.”

“I know I didn’t have to,” you answer, blowing at escaping strands as they settle in your face, wrinkling your nose and swatting when blowing your hair out of your eyes doesn’t work the way you hope. Steve’s hand raises, catching on the hair in your face. Smoothing it back behind your ear with a touch so gentle it makes you shiver a little. You give him one of those cute little pouts as you continue, “I wanted to, alright?”

And if he thought he was head over heels before last night, it’s worse now. It’s so much worse. Suddenly, he’s wondering how and why none of this happened sooner. His stomach growls and the sound has both of you snickering.

After a few more stolen kisses, he pries himself away from you and moves over to the pancakes, grabbing two plates from the cabinet above. He’s fixing your plates and you’re sitting there on his counter, watching him quietly. Falling in love even more, harder than you ever imagined you could.

You slip off the counter and make your way over to the massive refrigerator, opening the doors. After a little digging you find a can of whipped cream spray and you make your way over to him and melt against his back until he turns around.

You tell him to open his mouth and when he does you squirt the whipped cream into his mouth and it makes him chuckle quietly. Then he reaches down and pries the can out of your hand. “Open up, princess.”

You open your mouth and giggle when he squirts the whipped cream onto your tongue. And then your combined laughter dies away and you’re staring at each other. Migrating closer together. You raise up onto your toes to reach his mouth better but he picks you up off your feet slightly so you don’t have to. He sits you on top of the counter again and steps between your legs.

As he takes a bite from his stack of pancakes, he groans and he’s grinning. You laugh softly and shrug.

When he catches the taste of chocolate chips, his eyes brighten almost comically. “Is this chocolate?” he’s laughing, he’s so happy that it tugs a smile out of you. “Yes, baby.” you giggle out softly between bites.

The pad of his thumb swipes soft at the corner of your mouth and he comes away with a chocolate smear on his finger. He licks his thumb clean and gives you a little grin. “You had some chocolate on the corner of your mouth.”

Your legs slip around his waist and he swallows hard, his eyes locked on yours. He’s leaning in all over again. “I think kissing you is gonna be addictive or somethin.” he mumbles quietly as his mouth closes the space between your mouth and his to crash against your lips and his hands grip your thighs, squeezing.

“Hm?” you purr against his mouth as your fingers catch in his hair. He shivers and melts against you even more. “I was thinking the same thing.” you admit as the kiss finally breaks and you pull away a little to breathe.

When he follows up with asking if you want to go on a real date, you giggle, your hand going up to your mouth as you rest your forehead against his chest. “We can but..” you glance up at him, “Kind of just wanna stay here. Where it’s quiet and it’s not people-y and it’s just us.” you admit almost sheepishly. Steve chuckles at your words but he nods and agrees with you. Going out somewhere is the last thing on his mind at the moment too and he definitely agrees that he’d rather it be just the two of you.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x fem!reader fanfic #steve harrington x fem!reader oneshot #steve harrington oneshot

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justicerikai · 1 year

Text

Charisma House - Superhuman Sharehouse Story “Charisma” - #14 Is there anything you’d like me to do?

Please read alongside listening to the drama track on Youtube.

TL Note:

I don’t know if an explanation needed but… just in case. When Amahiko says ‘what for play is this?’ he means it in the sense of like, well, sexual stuff. Like pet play, pi-… you get my point…………………..

Iori: Fumiya-saaaan. It’s your slaaave. Are you here?

Iori: I’m opening it, okay?

(Iori opens the door)

Iori: ….?

Terra: Iori-kun

Iori: Terra-san

Terra: If you’re looking for Fumiya he isn’t here. He’s been out of the house lately

Iori: Is that so

Terra: I wonder what he’s always up to. His life is a mystery. He won’t tell me even if I ask

Iori: Terra-san, is there anything you’d like me to do?

Terra: Huh?

Iori: I ended up have some free time today so let me take care of things in your place

Iori: Self-sacrifice! Contribution! Free service!

Iori: Fufufu♪

Terra: Ahhh… I’m prolly good for now. Thanks. See ya

Iori: Wait!

Terra: Uh?

Iori: Order me♪ As much as you like♪

Iori: Self-sacrifice! Contribution! Free service!

Terra: Err.. I told you that there’s nothing I want you to do right now

Iori: You don’t have to hold back? Let me do it instead

Terra: I got nothing for you

Iori: What about laundry?

Terra: Eh?

Iori: I mean there must be a huge pile of laundry accumulated in your room, right? I’m aware of it, you know? Because lately I haven’t been seeing your laundry at all. You can hand it over now? I’ll wash all of it.

Terra: Ah, that’s taken care of. It’s true that I let it pile up but yesterday my work suddenly got cancelled. I washed it myself then.

(Iori gasps in shock)

Iori: Y-..yo..you.. you washed it YOURSELF!?

Terra: Eh?

Iori: What are you doing Terra-san, what is the meaning of this

Iori: Oi, oioioioioi

Terra: Awawawa-what what what

(Iori and Terra tumble over)

Iori: Terra-san.

Terra: Y-yes…

Iori: What’s the meaning of this? Planning to erase the meaning of my existence?

Terra: W-what are you talking about?

Iori: Taking out the laundry yourself and washing it yourself, is abso-lutely out of the question?

Terra: Is that so. Isn’t it being a good boy

Iori: We formed an agreement, right? I am a positive, voluntary slave here!

Terra: Slaves kinda don’t straddle others

Iori: If you do it next time

Iori: I’ll increase the free service level

Terra: What’s the free service level

(Creepy music starts playing)

Terra: …Eh?

Iori: I’ll polish your shoes everyday. No scratch to be seen. All shiny and new.

Terra: GYAAAAAH—! Ah, uh? Thanks

Iori: I’ll dry your hair after taking a bath. You’d be able to tap on your phone in the meantime.

Terra: Such a lifesaver-

Iori: I’ll make you a homemade bento every single day. With perfect nutritional balance.

Terra: I’d pay you for that

Iori: If you’re considering it this is what I’ll be able to do since I’ll just endure it. Understood?

Terra: Y-yeah..

Iori: Then let’s put your seal on this addition to our contract.

Terra: Eeeh…

Iori: Okay, and here’s a copy of the contract.

Iori: Also here’s your point card.

Terra: Point card?

Iori: You’ll accumulate points each time you use me, and once you gain enough points you’ll be able to replace your unhealthy organs with my healthy organs!

(Terra runs away)

Terra: NO WAY!

Iori: Geez. Doing the laundry yourself.

Iori: How troublesome.

(Amahiko’s muffled moaning can be heard)

Iori: Huh? That’s… Amahiko-san’s voice? I wonder what he’s doing

(Iori knocks on Amahiko’s door and opens it)

Iori: Amahiko-san?

Amahiko: Haah, haah…

Iori: Amahiko-san? Everything okay!? What’s wrong!?

Amahiko: Aah, Iori-san. I’m training. I will be demonstrating my pole dancing at an upcoming sexy show, which is why I’m doing a hard workout for muscle-strengthening.

Amahiko: Hahah, did you overhear me? Dumbbell training is considerably demanding.

Iori: Then I will do it for you.

Amahiko: What?

Iori: I just have to raise this dumbbell, right?

Iori: Hngh…! Hnnghh… Hhg..!

Amahiko: Iori-san? What are you doing? Iori-san. Iori-san.

(Iori continues to struggle)

Amahiko: What for play is this now.

Iori: Leave it to me. I will do Amahiko-san’s training instead!

Amahiko: Seriously what for play is this.

Iori: Nnnhhgghaaaa!

Amahiko: Iori-san.

Iori: aaaaaaAAAAAA!

Amahiko: Iori-san. There’s no meaning in this.

Iori: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

Amahiko: And you can’t even lift one millimeter with the dumbbell.

Amahiko: Also, that’s something you do with one hand. Not both.

Iori: AAAAAAAAAAAA!!!

Amahiko: Not even one millimeter.

Iori: Looks like it’s a bit too heavy for me. Is it okay to lighten the weight?

Amahiko: That’s not a problem. Or rather than it not being a problem, I just don’t care.

Iori: I should be able to do this. Hah…!

Amahiko: Iori-san! I’m grateful that you’re doing this for me, but, there’s no meaning to this.

Amahiko: Training is something I have to do myself.

Iori: But isn’t it difficult for you. It’s tiring, isn’t it?

Amahiko: Yes

Iori: That’s why I have to do it for you. Nnnnnnnghh~!

Amahiko: Iori-san.

Iori: Need to lift! For Amahiko-san’s sake—-!

Amahiko: I’m delighted. Thank you. But Iori-san, this isn’t it.

Amahiko: Iori-san! Please don’t overdo it, it’s dangerous.

(Something snaps in Iori’s body)

Iori: OoGh-!

Amahiko: You made a weird noise! Iori-san, drop it!

Amahiko: Drop it!

Amahiko: Just what for play do you keep doing here!

Amahiko: Even Amahiko can’t keep up with this!

Iori: Self-sacrifice!

Iori: Contribution!

Iori: Free serviceeeEEEEEEEEE!

Iori: Amahiko-san look! I lifted the dumbbell! YAAAAY!

Amahiko: Yaaaay! But there’s no meaning to this!!!!!

(Iori collapses)

Amahiko: IORI-SAAAAAAAN!!

Charisma charge: SUCCESS

Motohashi Iori, Terra, Tendou Amahiko

#charisma house #motohashi iori #terra #tendou amahiko #charismahouse

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heyiwrotesomethings · 3 years

Text

Warmth

Bela Dimitrescu x They/Them Reader

A/N: Yes, I’ve contracted the RE8 fever, and a bit late at that, what about it? Anyway, hope ya’ll like it. I don’t think there is anything that I should have to warn any of you about but let me know if I’m wrong. Word Count: 2,176

Being the fire stoker for the Dimitrescu daughters was simultaneously the best and worst job in the castle. It was the best job in that the daughters saw them as too valuable to kill or maim since they did their job so well. It made the daughters actually quite appreciative of them. Worst because if (Y/n) were to, god forbid, let a fire die in one of the girl’s rooms, their own light would be just as quickly snuffed out for such an error. That appreciation could turn to devastating hate on a dime if they were to slip up.

Winter was the most critical season. (Y/n) was often running room to room stoking the fires of each daughter’s most favorite areas of the castle to keep the most desirable temperatures. Often times they would fall asleep in the halls outside of the most at risk rooms and jerk awake at the slightest drop in temperature. Lady Dimitrescu had caught them dozing off once and scared them terribly when they awoke. Luckily, the Lady simply rolled her eyes and continued on her way, but not before reminding (Y/n) how easily a fire could fizzle out without the proper care and consideration. A warning.

The castle was huge, (Y/n) wished to argue, it wasn’t their fault that the daughters and their favorite rooms were so spread out. They’d like to see the Lady tend to every fire all throughout the harsh Romanian winter and see how long she could go without suffering from exhaustion. Well, on second thought, could the Lady even get tired? (Y/n) shook their head and sighed, rubbing at their bloodshot eyes. Lady Bela’s room was next in the rotation so they made their way to her wing while checking the state of their matchbook. They’d need to visit the kitchens to get a new one soon.

As they neared Lady Bela’s chambers they noted a slight chill which made their blood run cold.

“No, it can’t be...!” They gasped, fully sprinting down the hall now. They somehow remembered decorum despite the frenzy they had worked themself into and knocked upon the door, announcing their presence before stepping in. Their heart dropped to their feet.

The fire had completely died and Lady Bela was shivering in her bed, only her golden eyes could be seen staring at (Y/n) from beneath the covers as they rushed to the fire place with trembling hands.

“I’m so sorry Lady Bela!” They apologized fervently. How could this have happened? They had the timing down to a science! They had gotten too comfortable as Lady Dimitrescu had suggested and now the eldest daughter was sure to kill them for their carelessness. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know how this could have happened! I swear I’ll fix this, you’ll warm up in no time!”

Soon enough, the fire was blazing, the snap of the wood causing (Y/n) to flinch back. They heard the rustling of sheets and saw a black silk nightgown in their left periphery before they scrunched their eyes tightly shut. This was it, they had outgrown their usefulness. They held their breath and waited to be dragged away by Bela’s sickle but the biting pain never came. Instead, they were enveloped in chilled arms and wrapped in a luxurious duvet. An Ice cold nose dug into their neck and made them flinch.

“You will warm me. Move before I allow it and this will be the last fire you tend to.” Bela shivered and chattered against (Y/n)’s neck.

“Y—yes Lady Bela. Of course.” (Y/n) replied, back stiffening as Bela moved curl up in their lap. It was a bit awkward considering she was taller than most, but once settled she seemed pleased enough.

They sat like that for what felt like hours to (Y/n). Enough time to make their legs cramp and back ache. If Bela didn’t let them go soon, they were sure they’d have more than one displeased Dimitrescu sister to worry about. Fortunately, Lady Bela seemed to have grown tired of them and rose from their lap with a sigh before languidly moving back to her bed.

“Move along little human, if you let Cassandra’s fire go out I can’t say she will be as merciful as I.” Bela informed, looking back at (Y/n) over her shoulder with half lidded eyes.

“Yes, of course! Thank you Lady Bela, I swear I’ll never let it happen again!” (Y/n) bowed deeply before running out of the bedroom, shutting the door tight and quick not only to keep the heat in, but to hinder Bela a moment if she decided to change her mind on being merciful. They ran down the hall like a bullet leaves a gun to tend to Cassandra’s fire next, praying it hadn’t met the same early death as Bela’s.

***

It happened again.

It happened again and (Y/n) was absolutely beside themself. They had never been so sloppy in their life and even if Bela wasn’t going to kill them they almost wanted to sickle their own shoulder for their ineptitude.

“Tell me, what did you promise me yesterday little human?” Bela taunted from the bed while (Y/n) frantically stoked the fire to a roaring blaze.

“I— I don’t know what to say Lady Bela, I am disgusted with myself. Truly, I’ve never—“

“Hush now.” Bela glared from the pile of soft covers. If she wasn’t a vampiric bug woman with murderous tendencies, the scene would have been adorable. But (Y/n) knew better than to entertain the thought for long. Then Bela stretched her hand out from beneath her mountain of blankets.

“Come, warm me little human.”

“Whatever you wish, Lady Bela!” (Y/n) nodded, giving the fire one last look as if to say, ‘behave!’ and then they quickly stood beside Bela’s bed. There was no time to be shy when Bela lifted the covers, (Y/n) dove right in and let Bela maneuver them however she wished.

Unlike the day before, this warming position was much more comfortable and so much more dangerous. (Y/n) could feel that they were starting to drift off in the luxurious bed. If they fell asleep here, surely they would not wake again. Well, that might actually be kind. Who wants to be awake for their death anyway?

“I can feel your heart slowing, little human. Perhaps you’d best be on your way before you succumb to sleep and leave another fire to die.” Bela whispered a bit snidely.

“Right!” (Y/n) shot up and fell out of the bed, scrambling to their feet and anxiously smoothing the covers back down, “Thank you again for your mercy, Lady Bela. I’ll do better!”

“See to it that you do.” Bela replied airily as (Y/n) left the room. They failed to notice the small smile curling Bela’s lips as she watched them go.

***

Two weeks. Nine out of the fourteen days Bela’s fire had died before (Y/n) could stoke it. Sometimes, it even happened twice in one day and (Y/n) was dangerously close to a mental break. Bela, miraculously, seemed to have the patience of a saint and had yet to kill (Y/n) for their failures, simply making the fire stoker warm her with their body before sending them away. Despite the circumstances that preceded the impromptu cuddling sessions, (Y/n) couldn’t help but enjoy every moment they held Bela close or visa versa. It was actually really nice. They would have been lying if they said they hadn’t felt an attraction for the eldest daughter growing within them as they became used to life in the castle.

That didn’t mean (Y/n) didn’t feel horrible though. Each failure, every shiver drawn from Bela’s body, hacked at them like an axe and it was only a matter of time before they became the timber for the next fire.

So they set out for today to go differently, they quickly stoked Daniela’s fire and the one in the library, as well as the parlor, before bounding over to Bela’s room to arrive nearly half an hour earlier than usual. They knocked, announcing their presence, before promptly opening the door. They were already halfway across the room when they glanced up, pausing mid step when they saw Lady Bela out of bed standing over the fireplace. She stared back with wide golden eyes, seemingly frozen in time as well if not for the trickle of water pouring from the small bucket in her hands.

The sizzle of the water meeting the hot wood drew (Y/n)’s eyes to the fireplace and they watched slack jawed as smoke billowed and the small fire drowned into nothingness.

“...what?” (Y/n) whispered, their eyes shifting back to Bela who had the decency to look thoroughly embarrassed before fruitlessly hiding the bucket behind her back. The unusually meek display from the eldest Dimitrescu daughter seemed to spark (Y/n) to speak further out of turn, though words did not seem to be coming easily to them as they just continued to say, ‘what’, only getting louder and sounding more confused and utterly flabbergasted with each utterance. Their arms gestured between Bela and the sodden, burnt wood several times before Bela finally groaned and tossed the empty bucket into the nearest corner of her room with a clatter and a dull thud against the carpet.

“That’s enough!” Bela said sternly, causing (Y/n)’s jaw to snap back shut. She stalked over to them and lifted them by their shirt, quickly pushing them back against a wall in such a way that left their feet slightly above the floor as their hands scrambled to hold onto Bela’s.

“You will speak about this to no one!” She hissed, a buzzing sound emitting from her chest.

“My Lady,” (Y/n) wheezed, “I won’t say anything I swear!”

Bela scrutinized them closely before lowering them back down with a shallow nod.

“Good. Now,” she cleared her throat sheepishly before turning back towards her bed, “light the fire.”

(Y/n) didn’t need to be asked twice, scrambling to their knees in front of the fireplace. As they replaced the soggy wood with fresh timber, their mind raced. Why would Lady Bela douse her fire only to demand it be relit? Why would she do such a thing when she was so susceptible to the cold?

Once the fire was blazing once more, they tentatively turned to Bela, watching as she sat on the edge of her bed and stared at her feet. If (Y/n) couldn’t know the motives behind such a play, they were sure to lose their mind. So, they tested their luck and addressed Bela who gave them a warning look.

“Lady Bela, forgive me, but why ever would you douse your fire? Lady Dimitrescu had informed me of how important it is that you and your sisters stay warm when she assigned me this position. And... well, please forgive me if I’m wrong, you seemed to have made a bit of a habit out of it...”

Bela clenched her fists and growled, making (Y/n) jump to their feet.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” They said, making a dash to the door only to bump into a wall of Bela’s flies. This had to be it. They should have just kept their mouth shut!

“Stop panicking, little human.” Bela sighed and finished reforming in front of (Y/n). The fire stoker nodded, but their heart still beated ferociously in their chest. Being told to stop panicking by a Dimitrescu was like a great white shark telling a bleeding seal in open water to do the same.

“I’m only going to say this once so listen closely,” Bela averted her eyes for a moment and bit her lip before focusing back in on (Y/n), “you’re beautiful... handsome? Pleasant to look at and very warm and soft, sweet. I can’t very well snuggle up to a fire without being burned so I... stop looking at me like that.”

(Y/n) had a cute little smile on their face that seemed to be growing by the second. Their eyes were bright and alert as they soaked in every word and Bela couldn’t stop the small smirk tugging at her own lips.

“If it’s cuddling you wish for my Lady, you need only ask. I do enjoy the time we’ve been spending together as of late. Well, minus the heart attacks every time I see the fire’s dead.” (Y/n) informed.

“Just please,” they added, “no more fire sabotaging. I hate to see you shiver.”

“Easy enough,” Bela hummed before pulling (Y/n) back to her bed with visible excitement in her eyes, “hurry now, you got here early today so we have extra time!”

Before, Bela had been rather stiff with her demands. It was like (Y/n) was warming a block of ice wary of melting, but now she all but flung herself at (Y/n) with no inhibitions now that her secret was out. She hummed pleasantly and (Y/n) wiggled in her hold while icy fingers trailed beneath their shirt to settle on heated skin. It was shaping up to be a rather eventful winter.

#re8 oneshots #resident evil oneshots #bela dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu x reader #resident evil village oneshots

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omiscurls · 3 years

Note

Heyhey! I couldn’t find your rules, so idk if this is allowed or not, and if it isn’t feel free to ignore this, but may I request Childe with a reader who has depression? Thank you

tough

a/n: hi!! sorry for that, the rules are added by now, i chose not to describe depression itself, because it looks different on everyone, and you may not relate to what applies to me, but i'm hoping you'll find this enjoyable instead!!

plot: character helping the reader out of a breakdown, or a bad headspace

contains: tartaglia, kaeya

warnings: bad copying mechanisms, low mental place, nothing too serious mentioned

tartaglia

now, he's a man of action less than words, even though he's good with those, too

and to add to that, he's also a very perceptive person - if some negative vibe lingers on you for too long, he'll notice right away

however, relying on his experience, he opts to give you space to figure it out on your own, first, he wouldn't like to be making a huge deal of something that was just a worse couple of days

it's when you don't show up at your usual dinner spot, that he gets a little tingle in his brain, telling him to not dismiss it this time.

and so, he makes his way over to your place.

"ya there?" you hear on the other side of the door, followed by urgent knocking, sort of breaking you out of a trance, but you can't find it in you to go and answer it. he'll go away, you think, even better. your apartment is messy, you're messy, too, and it's not the right time to be receiving visitors. so you stay quiet.

"you do know i know you're in there, right?" he speaks up again "the blinds would be down if you weren't"

come in, you want to shout, and although no voice leaves your throat, soon the door opens anyway.

"hey, what's up, you weren't on the- oh." he stops in his tracks in the middle of the corridor, and you're already mentally prepared to a snarky remark about your sorroundings, but the only thing he says is a lighthearted "why're you sitting on the floor?"

the first thing he thinks about is to level with you, so he plops himself down right beside you, and you bet it looks funny - you in yesterday's clothes, in a big, probably smelly, mess, and then a harbinger in full military outfit right beside you.

"i-" you try to say, but your throat seems too dry and worn out, so you opt for a whisper "look at his place"

he indeed does, hinting the small note of desperation in your voice.

"what about it?"

"it's a mess!" you sigh, covering your face with your hands, out of both embarrassment, and fatigue. you take a big breath before continuing "so i wanted to clean it up, i even brought all the... all the things, but it's so much stuff to do, and i'm tired, and- and i don't know!" you choose to stop as not to snap right then and there. "i can't even do my shitty chores right like an adult" you mumble, massaging your temples.

"and is sitting on the floor helping?" he simply asks, and for a second, you're almost mad at him for not being more... cooey and fuss over you a bit more. he sounds cold.

"what are you-"

"really, is it helping?" he repeats "because from how i see it, every little thing would seem bigger if you looked at it from this angle. come on" he nudges you before standing up, and offering a hand to lift you up. you, however, shake your head.

"i really can't deal with it today, childe, i'm sorry"

"just stand up" he pleas, and the second you take his hand, he helps you up in less than a second. when you're on his level again, he sneaks both his arms on the sides of your waist, and sort of sways around a little, before speaking again. "what if, what if we do it little by little? look, we'll start over there" he puts his hand on top of yours, and lifts your arm to point to the full sink along with his. "and that'd be it for today! and then tomorrow... actually, let's not make plans. we'll just pick something tomorrow, and do it then. does the sink sound like a lot to do?" he asks.

"do you want me to be honest, or do you want me to say no" you mutter, earning the heartiest and brightest laughter you've heard in days from him.

"always honest. but come on, i'll help." he rolls you out of his embrace, causing you to feel a sudden wave of cold, it was comfortable back there, you think.

however, as he works through the dishes with you, the pile does seem to lessen, and doesn't rule over your kitchen anymore. every time he hands you a plate to dry, he smiles as wide as he can, and it doesn't seem to bother him at all when you don't smile back.

"remember" he starts again, after a while of comfortable silence. he looks ridiculous, doing the kitchen duties in an outfit designed mostly to look presentable and slay enemies in it, but the look on his face is dead set. "the first lesson you've gotta learn before going off to battle something, is that the best defense is always, always to fight back. and if you don't think you can manage that, well, that's why nobody ever battles alone. it's common sense to have someone watching your back. and as for you, not only are you a great warrior yourself, but you've also got the best second-in-command willing to help you out. don't forget that."

kaeya

as for him, he's also perceptive and empathic, but the difference between him and tartaglia is that he does believe people have the right to figure some things out on their own, he's a firm believer in the magic of secrets

that's probably because he himself doesn't like to share too much about his deeply personal feelings

so he'd obviously see some wave of difficult emotions coming your way, but would he immediately start worrying? probably not

the guy doesn't have healthy copying mechanisms himself, don't think he expects those of others

every other night the two of you meet up at the tavern, kaeya always ordering wine, you asking the bartender for whatever was in store today, but it's never anything alcoholic.

and just like nearly always, you're seated at angel's share, him noticing you're not particularly in the mood for talking, and choosing to entertain you with as many stories of the day that went by as he can remember.

the waiter interrupts him, asking if your minds are already made up regarding the drink. now, kaeya always has you picking first, but since he sees you're still analyzing the card (as if you expected to find anything new), he goes first with a drink he knows charles makes really strong.

to his surprise, when it comes to you, you just mumble "i'll have the same he had"

before the waiter has a chance of writing that down, kaeya tells him that actually, you're gonna need a minute or two more, and to erase the order you've both put in.

as he walks away, the calvary captain's eyes pierce through yours.

"that's a pretty nasty drink you wanted there" he starts, feeling he can't let you handle your mess this time, preparing to dig a little deeper into what's on your mind.

you shrug your shoulders.

"hey" he speaks up a little firmer, hand moving to cover yours, and even though they twitch as to retreat from his grip, you let it be. "tell me what's up."

"nothing's <up>" you accentuate. "can't i even have a drink now?"

"obviously you can" he nods "as long as i know you're trying it just for the taste, and not for the strong kick it's gonna offer, cause that's a dangerous path that only leads to nasty places." concern shines through his gaze, and an encouraging smile is wandering somewhere in his expression, however his lips are still pressed into a tight line, the same he forms when he's either fighting or arguing.

you stay silent for a good long while, before sighing.

"maybe i want the kick. good, or bad, maybe i want to feel... something."

the sentence sounds all too familiar, as he shakes his head and takes your hand, leading you towards the exit.

"what're you-"

"you're obviously not in the right state to be in a bar, of all places" he states almost coldly "so i'm getting you somewhere safer."

the two of you leave the bar, and walk out into the cold of mondstadt's street, covered in the darkness of the night. you walk past him, not leveling up to him, just tagging along to whatever he's going.

it comes as a surprise, that you're neither headed for your apartment, nor his, nor the knights' headquarters. he's guiding you in an unknown direction, until you reach a dead end.

he clims up a small building, offering you a hand and shaking off your confused expressions and questions. "you'll see" he says. the two of you walk from roof to roof, and countless times you tell him it's ridiculous, but then, he jumps onto the city's wall, helping you out with two hands this time, sitting you down right next to him on the stone surface of the wall. it's a little wet from the night's humidity, and cold, and probably dirty too, but the moon shines right at you, and from this perspective, you see thousands of lights in houses, taverns and shops, from the bottom up to the cathedral.

going up from that, a calm and peaceful lake paints the landscape blue on the left, and even from up here, you see a sea of lampgrasses shining through the leaves of wolvendom forest. if you squint, lights are still on in dawn winery, and the path to liyue and all the other lands swirls around near diluc's house. there's so much you can see, even if the night limits your vision.

"i like to come here when i need to gain some perspective over what is happening in my life right now" kaeya speaks really softly and quietly, bordering on a whisper. "it's a beautiful view, even someone as insensitive to art as i am can see that, but other than that... it's huge. and even though it is, it's also alive. every single one of those beings whose lights are dying out as they slowly go to sleep one by one, they're alive. they're not a scenery, they're their own, individual worlds. and they all coexist with each other in such a clever manner, don't you think? they have their differences, they might even hate each other, or wish the worst upon the other's name, but from up here? they fit together like puzzles of one, big picture."

"that's a nice way to put it, for sure" you whisper, looking down onto your knees. his finger pushes your chin slightly to make you face him, and he smiles at you gently, thumb brushing against the skin of your cheek.

"you know, we each have our own worlds, built from scratch from such fragile materials. we have our worlds rise, shine, and crumble before our sights. we look over the ruins of them and think, this is the end of the world. there's nothing more, it's all dust now. but from up here, you see how many other worlds there are - everyone has their own. not everything that is happening in your world is true. you see it from first person's perspective, and therefore the view might be disturbed by many different aspects. you might not see the picture, you just see the broken puzzle fragment that can't fit with the rest, and you're ready to throw away the entire picture, without finishing it. but being here, it reminds me... the world doesn't end on the ruins you see. you can always ask someone to help you build them up again, and of course, you can expect it to fall into pieces once more, but this time, you'll keep in mind, there're-" he stopped, pointing to the city's lights. "so many people to help you raise it up to the clouds."

"your metaphor is really complex" you chuckle, but his face stays still.

"it's not the end of the world if your puzzle piece is broken. and the ruins are not unfixable if you feel too tired to build them up all by yourself. if anything, that's a start." his hand travels up to keep the hair from getting on your face, since the wind blows pretty hard on this height. "what do you say we start your puzzle once more, toghether?"

your friendly reminder that you can request things [here]

#kaeya x reader #kaeya fluff #kaeya headcanons #tartaglia fluff #tartalgia #childe fluff #childe x reader #childe headcanons #childe #genshin impact x reader #genshin headcanons #genshin fluff #genshin impact #genshin impact fluff #gender neutral reader

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islesnucks · 3 years

Text

DON'T MOVE ON - QUINN HUGHES X READER

here is the hughesy angst i promised, i cannot believe i wrote it that quickly

likes and reblogs are always appreciated, hope you like it!

Word count: 2.5 k

Warnings: just a bunch of angst and then fluff

Summary: a month after a huge fight that ended your relationship you find out from Brock that Quinn hasn’t been able to move on too

Masterlist

Add yourself to the taglist!

Today marked a full month since the fight that ended it all. You’d like to say you couldn't remember how it happened, how things got so out of proportion you ended up breaking up, but you did. You still remembered every painful detail.

It had been a long day, those that just drain you physically and emotionally to the point you want to get home and sleep so it's finally over. But you didn’t do that because the canucks were playing that night and you thought maybe watching the game at your boyfriend’s apartment and waiting for him to get back after it ended would make you feel better. You were wrong.

The canucks lost that night, it wasn’t a huge loss, just by one goal, a power play goal made by the other team after Quinn had taken a penalty. He obviously put the blame on himself and when he got home things got worse.

With both of you in bad moods things were meant to get nasty, but you never thought it would have reached the point it did. It started as a small fight but quickly things escalated. You knew you didn’t mean the things you were saying, but you weren’t thinking clearly. Suddenly all the little stuff that bothered you about each other started to accumulate and when he said you didn’t support him enough that was the last straw.

How could he say that when you were standing right in front of him in his apartment after having watched his game and waited for him? Even when all you wanted was to go to sleep and forget that day had even happened.

“I can’t believe you just said that. Seriously Quinn I do so much for you and this is how you pay me?”

“Then maybe if I’m such a bad boyfriend we should break up.” He knew that’s not what he wanted, but anger took over and he wanted to hurt you as much as you had hurt him seconds ago.

“Maybe we should.” you quickly replied and the room went silent. You looked at him, internally begging him to say he didn’t mean it, but nothing happened. The silence was deafening.

“Ok then. It’s over.” you finally said, already gathering your purse and leaving his apartment. Not having enough strength to give him a final look as you shut the door behind you and rushed out of the building.

You didn’t cry as you walked to your car or in the drive home, it was like you were on automatic mode, you just drove to your place in silence without a thought in your head.

But once you were inside your apartment it all dawned on you. Your vision got blurry and you let out a suffocated breath. Your legs stumbled and you fell down on the floor with your back against the wall, unable to take in everything that had happened. It was over.

That happened a month ago. You hadn’t talked to Quinn ever since that night. It had been the hardest month of your life. You didn’t realize he was such a huge part of your life till he wasn’t there at night to hold you as you sleep, making you a cup of tea while you studied, pointing at you in the crowd after a goal, rushing out of the lockers straight to your arms after a game, stroking your hair as you lied on his chest to help you relax after a stressful day. He wasn’t there anymore and you missed him with every bone in your body; but he never reached and you were too afraid to see him only to discover he was doing completely fine without you.

Focusing on your studies and work made it easier, you discovered if you had your head occupied the whole day you didn’t think of him. But nights were the hardest, lying alone in your bed with only your thoughts would make your mind go back to that dreadful night and you’d end up crying yourself to sleep. That empty feeling would turn from sadness to anger and vice versa, but no matter how hard you tried to get over him you couldn’t.

That’s why after weeks of pure silence it surprised you when you received a call from Brock. You debated on whether to answer or not, but figured if he called after all this time it was important.

“Hello?”

“Hey Y/N” he answered. “How are you?” You could tell he was hesitant.

“I’m … good I guess.” you replied followed by a long silence. “Why are you calling Brock?” you finally asked, wanting the exchange to be over.

Brock didn’t know how to phrase it, he knew why he was calling and what needed to be said, but he simply didn’t know how to say it without you immediately ending the call after hearing his name.

“It’s about Quinn- please don’t hang up!” he was quick to add.

“What about Quinn?” you asked. It felt weird to talk about him out loud, something you hadn’t even done with your friends.

“He 's bad Y/N. Really bad. He won’t come out of his apartment, only for practices and games, and then he rushes back home and we don’t see him again. We’re really worried about him, all the team and his friends, even his family. He hasn’t been calling them like he used to and Jack had to basically convince their mom not to take the first plane here to check up on him. Even Brady hasn’t been able to get to him. Plus he’s been shit on the ice lately, taking stupid penalties and getting into fights, he’s one bad game away from getting benched.”

“I get it Brock but I don’t know what you want me to do. It’s not my job to fix him.” you told him. The thought of Quinn suffering alone in his apartment broke your heart but after all he was the one who decided to end things and never reached you after it. You knew it was your pride talking, but he had put himself in this position.

“I know, I know. I’m not asking you to forgive him for whatever it is he did. Honestly we’re kind of out of the loop here because he won’t tell us what happened between you two. But please I’m begging you, talk to him. You don’t have to get back together, but I think he needs some type of closure or something. He can’t keep doing like this Y/N.”

You could tell by his voice he was genuinely worried, and you were sure this is something he had talked about with the rest of the team and friends. You hated to admit it but Quinn still had a place in your heart and right now it ached at the thought of him drifting away from his family and friends and even failing at the job of his dreams when maybe a simple talk could help him. So you decided to push your grudge aside, but not completely.

“I have a box with his things, tell him I’ll go by his place to return them and then we can talk.” you said, thinking that the box of his belongings you had packed some days ago and sited by the door waiting for the moment you were strong enough to give them back to him would be a good enough excuse. That was not the answer Brock expected but he knew it was the best he would get.

“Thank you Y/N. I know this isn’t easy for you, but thank you so much.” You hanged up.

You stood on the hallway in front of his door after knocking, waiting for him to answer. You kept repeating to yourself everything would be fine, that seeing him again after a month wouldn't be as hard as you thought, but the moment the door opened and your eyes connected with his, your heart stopped.

He looked like shit. Tired eyes, heavy dark circles around them, messy hair and you’d bet he had been wearing that old shirt and sweatpants for at least three days. You were also surprised to see that he was shocked you were standing on his doorway.

“Y/N?”

“I told Brock I’d stop by today.” you explained.

“You spoke with Brock?” he asked and then you understood his friend hadn’t informed him of everything.

“Yeah he called me yesterday to talk about … well about you.” you said, unsure if telling him you talked about him was the right thing to do. He nodded, still a bit confused but didn’t say anything. “Can I …” you said, gesturing to the inside of the apartment.

“Oh yeah sure.” He moved to the side to let you in. “Sorry about the mess.”

You walked into the all too familiar apartment where you had spent many days and nights, but now it didn’t feel like home anymore. The curtains were almost shut completely allowing little to no natural light at all inside, there were some clothes on the sofa and dirty dishes piling up in the sink.

“So I’m guessing Brock forgot to tell you I’d stop by to drop this.” you said putting down the box on his coffee table.

“He probably did it on purpose. If I knew he was going to call you I’d have stopped him.” he simply said, like it wouldn’t be a dagger to your heart to hear he didn’t want to see you. Maybe after all he wasn’t doing so bad, or maybe it wasn’t because of you.

“If you didn’t want to see me I can go-” You started to turn around, ready to once again leave his apartment brokenhearted like many days ago, but his hand on your wrist stopped you.

“No! It’s not that I don’t want to, it's just that … it’s hard.”

“Hard?”

“Yeah Y/N, hard. I haven’t seen you for like a month. After that fight you just left and I never saw you again.”

“Well you never reached out Quinn.”

“You didn’t either.”

“Yeah but you were the one that decided to break up. You want me to process my boyfriend breaking up with me and then also call to check up on him?”

His hand was still on your arm, making you stand close to each other, so close that you could tell how his posture changed after hearing what you had said.

“I’m sorry about that, about the break up and about every other stupid thing I said that night. You were the best girlfriend I could have asked for.” he said looking into your eyes. You could tell he was being sincere and that softened something inside of you.

“I also said some stupid stuff I didn’t mean. We were too caught up fighting to actually think what we were saying.”

“I’m sorry.” he almost whispered before letting go of your arm and quickly wrapping his arms around your body.

You were surprised at first but didn’t hesitate to hug him back. By the way you were hugging, with his head low into your neck and your arms around his frame, it looked more like you were consoling him, and in a way that’s what was happening. At one point you noticed he was crying, you couldn’t see him but you felt the warm tears against your skin and the way his chest shook between your arms as he tried to hold it in but failed.

“If I could take it all back I would, I really would.” he mumbled against your neck in between sobs. You started crying too, unable to keep on pretending you were fine anymore, unable to keep on pretending you didn’t care.

“I miss you so much Y/N.”

“You do?” you asked, genuinely surprised to hear him say it.

“Are you kidding me?” He pulled away from you to look you in the face, but your arms stayed on each other. “Look at me, look at my apartment. I’m a mess without you. I miss you every second of the day, there isn’t a moment when I’m not thinking about you Y/N. I mean I’m doing so horribly I’ve got everyone worrying about me: my friends, my family, my team.”

“You never called so I thought you had moved on.”

“I didn’t. I can’t move on from you and even if I could I don’t think I want to”

You looked at the mess of a man standing in front of you, crying in your arms, telling you he regretted everything, he missed you. It was clear to see he had suffered as much as you had for the past month. There was no doubt in your mind you still loved him, you tried to push it away but there it was, strong as ever, beating deep in your heart. So you decided to go for it, let yourself be weak one more time and if it didn’t work out then that’s something you’d have to deal with later; but if it did you knew it would be extraordinary.

“Then don’t.” you said and he looked down at you with furrowed brows. “Don’t move on.”

“Is that what I think it is?” he asked, eyes getting bright with hope at the thought maybe it wasn’t all lost.

“I’m willing to try again if you are. I still love-” you started to say but he cut you off mid sentence moving his hands to your face and your words died in his lips.

It felt familiar, like coming back home after a long trip. Both your eyes were closed, enjoying the kiss, savoring every second of it. Tears started rolling down your faces and you could taste them on each other's lips. Tears of joy because neither of you could believe this was actually happening.

“I love you.” he said once you pulled away to breathe, foreheads touching and lips millimeters away. “I love you, I love you, I love you!” he kept on repeating with the brightest smile on his face. You giggled before connecting your lips once again for another kiss, something you could never get tired of.

This time his hands moved to your sides, lifting you up in his arms as you wrapped your legs around him and let out a surprised squeal between the kisses. He walked over to the couch, threw away the clothes that were there with one hand holding you close to him with the other, to then swiftly lay on it with you on top of him.

“I’m never letting you go again.” he said, placing a kiss on the top of your head as you nestled yourself between his arms with your head on his chest.

“That’s fine by me.” you replied, earning a sweet laugh from him.

tagging those who asked or seemed interested:

@lovingbrock @mellany1997 @timothyjimothy74 @itoldmycatsaboutyou @stlbluesbrat @dermybaby

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagines #quinn hughes fic #nhl #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nhl fanfic #hockey #hockey fic #hockey imagine #hockey fanfiction #hockey imagines #canucks #canucks imagine #Canucks fic #vancuver canucks #vancuver canucks imagine

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teddy06writes · 3 years

Note

sum angst for sapnap x quackity x karl x reader if requests are open, i dont remember if they are, and if u feel up to it

sapnap x karl x quackity x reader + sleepy bois x sibling!reader

trigger warnings: yelling, swearing, character death

this is an in game au so be aware of that

premise: you’ve been on the inside, spying on Shlatt for pogtopia, you thought you had had him convinced that the spy was Tubbo (Who knew just about nothing about pogtopia) but during the festival Shlatt asks you to make a speech... after the festival, things begin to fall apart

(y/n/n)- your nickname

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“And you’re sure about this? You’re positive that it’s him and not Quackity?” Shlatt asked.

The festival was in two days, Wilbur’s plan to blow Manburg was in place, and suddenly huge evidence of things you had berried was piling up. Your entire position as Pogopia’s spy was at risk.

“I’m positive Mr. President. I caught Tuboo poking around in some tunnels, trying to talk to TommyInnt just yesterday,” You lied straight through your teeth, “The log I found behind the files proves it.”

You held up the book, truly a work of your own notes, signed in you co workers hand.

Shlatt took it, quickly skimming through the pages, “Hmmm, this is significant evidence to condemn the kid. We’ll have to do something about.”

“Maybe we should exile him, like Wilbur and Tommy.” You suggested carefully.

He considered it for a moment, a wide jagged grin spreading across his face, “Or... we could execute him,” He seemed to take pleasure in your shock, “Publicly. We have been needing a slam finish for that festival.”

“Shlatt Tubbo is just a child!”

Shlatt glared down at you, “Sorry, what was that? It almost sounded like you were trying to go against the word of the president.”

The threat chilled you to the core, and you strained to stay calm, “With all due respect Mr. President, Tubbo is only 16, and there are other ways to deal with insurgents.”

“Insurgents? As in there's multiple now?” Alex strode into the room, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you breathed a slight sigh of relief.

“Yes, your partner here has just informed me that our dear Tubbo is a traitor,” Shlatt slammed the journal onto the desk, ignoring the glare Alex gave him when you jumped, “He’s been spying on Manburg for Pogtopia.”

Alex reached for the book, flipping to the last page and reading allowed, “If there is ever a time to strike, it would be during the Manburg festival, though it is worth noting Wilbur’s plan of destroying L’Manburg should be put off as long as possible.”

“When I caught them in the tunnels under the city, they were talking about tnt,” You said, the shake in your voice all too real, as forced tears began to prick in your eyes, “Wilbur’s going to blow it up.”

Shlatt looked at you clearly searching for something, but giving up once you fully began to cry, turning to burry your face in your boyfriends shoulder.

The president sighed, annoyed, “Get them outta here Quackity, I can’t work when there's fucking crying in my office.”

“It’s probably just the stress, sir. I’ll get them home.” Alex carefully led you out of the white house, and you were grateful, unknowing how much of the emotion was real or not.

“Oh god! Is (y/n) okay?” Karl asked as soon as Alex had gotten you to where he was decorating party island.

“Yeah, they’ll uh- they’ll be alright. Shlatt, Manburg, stress, you know?” He eased you down to sit on one of the benches, and quickly Karl moved to sit and wrap his arms around you.

“Hey, I’ve gotta get back to work. I’ll see you guys tonight.” Alex quickly pecked at your cheek, and then Karl’s lips before heading back in the direction of the white house.

“What happened?” Karl asked softly once he had gone.

You sniffled, leaning into his embrace, “Work’s stuff. The festival’s getting stressful.”

“Yeah, well I’m helping Tubbo with the last of the decorating tomorrow,” He paused, “You’re missing Wilbur and Tommy aren’t you?”

You nodded, “I miss them and Techno and Phil. I miss home.”

Your duties as a spy didn’t entail much seeing your brothers, just taking down notes of what was going on in Manburg and leaving them in a remote chest for Wilbur to collect later.

“We all miss home. But think about it this way, if you hadn’t come here, you wouldn’t’ve found me, or Alex, or Nick,” Karl said, looking out at the rest of Manburg, “We wouldn’t have this place without you or your brothers, and even Shlatt can’t change that.”

You smiled a bit at that, “Thanks Karl.”

“And! You don’t have to worry about decorations for the festival cause I’m helping Tubbo with it tomorrow!”

Though it was meant to cheer you up you felt your heart sink lower, he and Nick still didn’t know, and wouldn’t about what would be planned for the festival, but hopefully Alex would understand the burden.

“So why is there a festival?”

Nick had just arrived back in Manburg from a while’s stay in the SMP, and was very confused by the posters lining the streets.

“Shlatt wants to celebrate democracy, so he’s had Tubbo and I organize a festival.” You explained.

He cocked an eyebrow, “And what does Wilbur think of this?”

Nick was still the only one who’d found out about your allegiances to Pogtopia, only by mistake, when he’d caught you making the journey back from the cavern.

“Wilbur thinks it’s an opportunity,” You sighed, quickly scribbling down a new messege to the boys, “Techno think’s it’s a waste of time and energy, the anarchist energy’s been shining through more and more lately.”

“So who do you agree with?” He asked carefully.

“Neither, Wilbur’s gone manic, Techno is- well he’s Technoblade, and Tommy just goes along with what Wil says.” You tucked each note into an envelope, folding them between the pages of the newest set of notes.

You looked up to meet Nick’s eyes, “I’m worried about what Friday will bring. I’ve tried to throw Shlatt off my trail and it seems like it’s working I just-”

You broke off as Nick wrapped his arms around you, “Hey, it’ll be okay. And if he tries anything, I’ll be there to protect you,” He chuckled, “Hell, maybe it’ll be the only time your brothers and I agree.”

“Maybe.” You mumbled.

“Woah! Are you guys cuddling without us?” Karl feigned shock as he came into the living room with Alex.

“I would never!” You forced a laugh.

“(y/n), come on, we’ve gotta go get ready to meet Shlatt.” Alex nudged you.

You sighed, starting to snuggle back into Nick’s grip, wishing the small amount of morning calm would last, “Do we have too?”

“Yeah, you know he won’t be happy if we’re late.”

You looked at Karl and Nick, still mostly asleep, and then back at him, quietly admitting, “I’m scared today could change everything.”

He sighed, immediately shifting back down into be, “I suppose we could stay a bit longer.”

Slowly, the other boys woke up, but the room remained in silence, as if everyone could feel the coming tension, as if even moving would shatter the peace of the day.

Carefully, Karl broke the silence, “We’re gonna be okay guys. The festival is gonna be awesome. Wilbur wouldn’t do anything to ruin it for (y/n).”

“If what they found out is true, you guys could all be at risk.” Alex murmured.

Nick sighed, “I don’t care who’s bad side I get on, it’s gonna be anything to keep you all safe.”

Each of you heard a different meaning behind his words, but still none of you spoke.

“Whatever happens today, we’ll make it through, the country, may not.” You said, voice wavering, but still with a note of finality.

By midday the festival was in full swing, and surprising your older brother had actually shown up for the festivities.

“Strange seeing you here,” You laughed, nudging him, “A celebration of a government.”

“It’d be rude to turn down an invitation ta one a these,” He sighed, glancing around, “Where’s your boyfriends hanging around at, I haven’t threatened them yet today.”

You chuckled, “Q’s helping Shlatt with the last of the prep for the speeches. Sapnap’s supposedly trying to figure a way to cheat Fundy’s dunk tank and Karl’s over there.” You gestured to where he, Tubbo, Sam and Bad were running around at Party Island.

“mmm, hey, uh, your note the other day, you weren’t serious about framing the kid right?”

You sucked in a breath, tightening the grip on the sword at your side, “It was him or Al- Quackity, I couldn’t do that to him. Whatever they’re planning I’m going to stop them.”

Techno look back at the stage warily, “I’ll back you up if I can.”

Soon everyone was being called to take there seats in the audience as you, Tubbo, Alex, and Shlatt took to the stage.

“Well everyone!” Shlatt addressed the crowd, “Thank you for coming to this wonderful celebration of democracy! Things sure have gotten bet around here, I’m gonna give the mic to Tubbo, the main organizer of this event, for his speech.”

Tubbo grinned, shuffling his notecards as he took Shlatt’s spot in front of the microphone, “Hello everyone! I’m honestly so excited to be here right now!”

As Tubbo rambled on about Wilbur and Tommy’s banishment, you stood back, wishing you could’ve stood on the same side of the stage as Alex.

Looking out over the crowd gathered you tried not to let your gaze wander to Tommy and Wilbur, who you knew were perched on the top of a near by building.

“And uh yeah! To democracy!” Tubbo concluded.

You could almost here Alex chuckle as he started to turn to the chest on the side of the stage, ready to grab the materials to box the boy in.

“That was nice, hey, uh, (y/n), dear (y/n), my secretary of state, I uh, I hate to put you on the spot here, but uh, why don’t you come up and make a speech?” You blood ran cold at Shlatts words.

On the other side of the stage Alex froze as well, out in the crowd no one suspect anything, so you clasped your hands behind your back to hide the tremors and moved in front of the microphone.

“Well, uh hi guys! I honestly didn’t except to be up here making a speech today, so I’m not quite sure if this will even turn out coherent,” You laughed, out of the corner of your eye you noticed Tommy tensing, “I remember, soon after I followed my brothers to this land, we fought in a war. L’manburg’s war for independence was long and hard, and I often thought we would never see a better time, but standing here, it is very clear to me that this country has changed since the election.

“This country, since gaining it’s independence has changed my life, and it weighs on my heart that My L’manburg has a ruler such as Mr. JShlatt. We fought for this land, my brothers and I, and here we are today, with so much progress made! So, my friends, my colleges, here's to Our L’manburg!”

Everyone began to cheer, only to be cut off my Shlatt’s harsh laugh, “Oh, (y/n), it’s Manburg now remember? or did you forget while you were off conspiring with your brothers in Pogtopia?”

Tubbo pushed a still frozen Alex out of the way to grab the materials, beginning to box you in.

“S- shlatt?” You quickly turned on the emotion, turning frantically as they caged you in, “Shlatt what are you talking about?”

“Shlatt what the hell are you doing?” Alex asked.

“Oh, you didn't know? Your partners a traitor!” Shlatt laughed again.

Alex turned to you, now trapped between the throne and the mic stand, looking betrayed.

“I didn’t do anything! Shlatt! Please!” Though a few days before most of the emotion had been real, but now you were thankful for your acting skills, blubbering, “Alex! Alex look at me it wasn’t me! I didn’t do anything!”

Down in the stands Nick was halfway to standing, pushing Karl back down into his own seat.

“Or really? So that book wasn’t forged? That chest you used to pass messages? You tried to turn them against me!” Tubbo exclaimed.

“I didn’t- I- I would never betray my country!” You sobbed, forcing tears to leak from your eyes.

“Oh shut up,” Shlatt turned to the crowd, “Technoblade, front and center, get up here.”

Shakily Techno stood, quietly moving up to stand on the stage as Alex backed off the stage, looking between you and Shlatt with mixes of betrayal and shock.

“What uh, what you need me up here for Shlatt?”

“I want you to take care of them, make a public example.”

Techno coughed awkwardly, “You- you want me ta kill m’ sibling?”

“No!” You exclaimed, “Techno please...”

Shlatt glared at you, “Cut the crap (y/n)! We all know you aren’t actually this god damn emotional!”

Sapnap was fully in the isle now, sword drawn, and up on the roof You saw Wilbur clamping a hand over Tommy’s mouth to keep him to keep him from giving them away.

Sighing you wiped away the fake tears, “You have to admit, Shlatt, you believed me, you trusted me!”

Shlatt just rolled his eyes, “Techno get on it, snap too! I’ve got places to be.”

Techno slung his crossbow off his shoulder uncertainly, “(y/n)?”

All the fear from the morning came flooding back, but you shoved it down, leaning forward, to make eye contact with Shlatt, “You kill me now and nothing will change! This place will still go down hill and my brothers will still plot against you! All my secrets go down with me!”

“Shut your mouth and die already!”

Your nails dug into your palms, “Don’t make them watch Shlatt, have some mercy, if you want to kill me kill me, but don’t make my boys watch, don’t make Techno do it.”

“Get it over with!”

You leaned forward, gritting your teeth, “You heard the man, kill me.”

“(y/n), I can’t- you- yo- I-”

“Do it.” You hissed.

Time slowed, and Techno slowly raised the crossbow.

You looked out, past him, over the rolling fields of L’manburg, your home.

Niki out in the crowd wore a look of horror, hiding her face in Eret’s shoulder, who wore a simillar look for fear. Fundy wore a steely expression clearly close to breaking, Sam looked down right terrified, as Bad hid his eyes in his hands.

To your left Tubbo looked scared even though he’d put you in the cage, you were glad it was you and not him.

Shlatt wore his usual evil grin, pupil’s dilated.

Up on the roof, Tommy, your little brother looked horrified, Wilbur still holding him back with a neutral expression, Techno, now directly in front of you, was nearly in tears, your big brother, who swore to protect you, now being your end, it seemed almost poetic.

Behind him Nick was running up the isle, sword drawn, though you knew he’d be to late, Karl, lip quivering sat frozen, and Alex, his face still was filled with betrayal.

You looked up, took a deep breath and then time resumed, Techno pulled the trigger and everything went black.

{(y/n) went off with a bang}

It was cold.

Dark.

You didn’t now where you were as you drifted through a world you barley recognized.

Where was this?

How did you get there?

Vaguely you remembered a festival, your brothers, plus your boyfriends, oh how you loved them.

Your friends had been there too.

You looked back down to see L’manburg, ‘home!’ you thought happily.

You drifted towards your house, a voice in the back of your brain wondering, ‘why am I not walking?’

“What the fuck was that?” A loud voice cut through the air.

‘Nicky!’ you thought happily, following the sound.

“What the hell do you mean?”

‘Alex!’

You entered the room, finding them standing on opposite side, Karl, huddled in the corner.

“You are so fucking stupid! You know that? You let them die! They’re fucking dead because of you!”

“They were a fucking traitor! They got what was coming to them!”

“They loved you!” Nick screamed back, “They loved you and me and Karl, and their brothers! And now there gone! Because of You and Fucking Shlatt!”

What were they talking about?

“They fucking betrayed us! They betrayed Manburg! You saw the fucking acting they did! How do you know they ever loved us!”

From the corner Karl sobbed, and instinctively you moved to comfort him, but instead you passed right through.

‘what the hell?’

You had no time to dwell however because Nick shouted, “Etheir way you let them die! They’d be here if you’d interfered!”

“But I didn’t wooupdy do! They were a traitor!”

“They were trying to save their home!”

“WELL MAYBE THEY SHOULD’VE CONSIDERED THAT I WAS TRYING TO BUILD IT UP!”

“You and Shlatt never did anything but tare this place to the ground.” It was only a whisper, but Nick’s words sent Alex spinning on his heel and heading out the door.

“Fuck you! Fuck you! I am aware that my best isn’t good enough! So fuck you!”

The door slammed, and Nick only blinked a moment before Karl quietly asked, “Why did you do that?”

“What?”

“Now he’s gone too!”

Karl’s voice made your heart shatter.

“You think that’s my fault?! Clearly he didn’t give a shit about us, or them, other wise he would’ve stopped Shlatt.”

“They said we’d be okay! But we’re not!” Karl sobbed.

“I can fucking see that! God damn Karl! What did you except?”

“I-”

Before he could finish the door was slamming again.

Karl leaned back against the wall, staring straight through you whispering, “Why did you have to go (y/n/n)? You only just brought us together! We only just figured it out.”

#mcyt x reader #mcyt imagines #sapnap x reader #karl jacobs x reader #quackity x reader #sapnap x karl x quackity x reader #teddy06 writes

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castexpectopatronum · 3 years

Text

Liquid Amber - Part II [Remus Lupin x Reader Imagine]

Summary: You had been crushing on Remus Lupin for an eternity when you finally decided to ask him out. However, things do not go as planned and you remain wondering just what exactly is going on with this boy.

word count: 1.6k

trigger warnings: none

notes: apparently this got deleted, so i’m reuploading it

Masterlist

“... and I really don’t know if I should have continued with Divination because on the one hand, sure it’s a fascinating subject but on the other hand, Professor Hartshorn is so incredibly ridiculous, you should’ve heard her yesterday- (Y/N), are you listening to me?”

At once, you snapped out of the daze you had been in and looked at your friend who was eying you with a bemused expression.

“Still thinking about him, are you?”

Sighing deeply, you hunched forwards and rubbed your eyes, utterly exasperated – from both, your work and mind. “Sorry, I just... I can’t get him out of my head, no matter what I do.” She smiled. “No worries, (y/n). We’ve all been through that phase. Probably everbody has that one crush they will never forget. It’s normal.”

“Normal or not, it bloody sucks,” you grumbled, leaning back in the armchair. The two of you were currently sitting in your common room, occuping an entire table with your school work. Quills, parchment and half-empty ink bottles littered the entire surface and the books you didn’t necessarily need had already been banished onto the floor where they were stacked into a dangerously lose pile. But as long as they didn’t fall into the fireplace, it didn’t bother either of you.

A huge yawn escaped your mouth and in a rather half-hearted attempt to be productive, you threw a glance at the essay you were currently working on. Once again, it was for your potions class. Like the time you had gathered all of your courage to ask out Remus Lupin but had been turned down and had felt absolutely humiliated for the remainder of the week. Even now, you still had problems looking him in the eye but as Remus was apparenly determined never to speak with you again, it did not cause you a lot of trouble.

Picking up your quill again only to twirl it in between your fingers, you wondered wether Remus was purposely avoiding you. You wouldn’t be surprised if that were he case; he had looked quite constipated when you had asked him if he wanted to go out with you.

Your stomach tightened unpleasently. If you had known of Remus’ profound aversion to go out on a date with you, you wouldn’t have approached him in the first place. You hadn’t planned for him to get into that kind of rotten situation. Maybe you should go and apologise to him. Was that something you had to do?

It had started to rain; heavy drops were whipping against the window and together with the occasional scratching of your friend’s quill made you fall into a hypnotised state while you stared into the depths of the crackling fire.

”You’re not going to finish that this evening, are you?”

You simply shook your head, not bothering to raise your eyes.

Your friend sighed deeply and rolled up her parchment. “Shall we head to bed, then? I’m finished, anyways.” She groaned loudly as she stretched in her armchair, finally educing a small smile from you.

“Yeah, good idea. Let’s go to sleep.”

One day, you would be able to look back at this and laugh about it. Your first heartbreak was a good story to tell your grandchildren. And that, my dear, is how the first bloke I ever fell in love with rejected me, which is great, though, because if he hadn’t, I wouldn’t have married your grandfather and you would never have been born.

Sadly, however, you were far from getting grey hair and wrinkles and telling bed time stories to your children’s children, so you had to endure sitting in class behind Remus and starring at his stupid brown hair which looked so wonderfully soft that you felt the strong urge to run your fingers through it every time your gaze fell upon it.

And thus, you came to the terribly depressing conclusion that you hated your life. But – of course – you found yourself, once again, unable to despise the person that made your life such a horrible mess. Which made it an even more horrible, messier mess.

The ringing bell, which marked the end of the school day, interrupted your flow of thoughts and you quickly gathered your things together, glad for the opportunity to escape.

While walking back to your common room – you avoided the library as much as you could – you again considered approaching Remus to talk things out. You were still unsure wether or not you owed him an apology, and anyway, you didn’t want things to be awkward between the two of you.

Not that you had had many opportunities to become aware of said awkwardness – Remus was definitely avoiding you.

A sigh escaped you, one in a line of many others since that faithful day in the library, and you tried to focus on all the homework and revision you had to do for today. Going over all of your plans in your head, you turned around the corner-

-and collided straight with another person, causing all of the books in both of your hands to fall and spread onto the ground.

The clash’s force made you stumble several steps backwards, thankfully though you managed to keep your balance, arms waving around.

“Shit, sorry, mate, are you okay?” Once you’ve managed to get a stable footing, you lifted your gaze from the stone floor and looked directly into the face of Remus Lupin.

All colour drained from your cheeks.

“Oh. Hi, Remus. Didn’t see ya there.” You laughed forcefully.

Remus looked at you with a startled expression that quickly turned into one of clear uncomfort.

“Hello, (y/n),” he muttered quietly.

In a desperate attempt to chase away the heavy silence lying between the both of you, you hurriedly gathered up the school books that were scattered around on the stone floor. The two of you stood there in awkward silence, clutching your books to your chests. He was expertedly avoiding your eyes while you were desperately trying to find the right words to say.

Surprisingly though, it was Remus who first raised his voice,

“Listen, (y/n), I need to go, so...”

“Remus-”

“I forgot something in the library-” He tried to quickly walk past you but you seized his arm to hold him back. The look he gave you, however, was one of slight surprise and discomfort.

“I’m sorry,” you said, unable to hide the sorrow in your eyes. “Listen, I never...” You interrupted yourself, an uneasy feeling spreading throughout your stomach. “When I asked you out, I never intended on making you feel uncomfortable. I just ... I just wanted to know if I stood a chance. You really don’t have to feel guilty for anything – and I’m sorry for having put you in this situation.” You licked your lips nervously and let go of his sleeve. “That’s it. I just wanted to apologise. Sorry for bothering you.”

Remus did not say anything in your defense. Nor did he say anything to blame you. He did, in fact, not say anything at all. He simply stared at you, his brown eyes almost burning a hole into your skull. As you looked into his piercing eyes, finding yourself unable to turn you gaze away from them, your heart forgot how to beat.

“Remus?” It was no more than a breath, barely even a whisper, but it was enough to snap him out of his daze. He blinked a few times, then took a hasty step back and cleared his throat. You took a shaky breath – you hadn’t even realised you were holding it.

“I’m sorry if I’ve hurt you,” he said hoarsely, looking at the stone floor instead of meeting your eyes. “Believe me, that wasn’t my intention.”

Your face softened. “I know you didn’t want to hurt me, Remus,” you whispered. “I’m not mad at you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

He lifted his head slightly but then changed his mind and continued to stare at the ground. “Me turning you down... That had nothing to do with you.”

You took a step back and furrowed your eyebrows. “What do you mean? Of course it had something to do with me.”

Remus pressed his lips into a thin line and shook his head. “No, (y/n), it didn’t. Please believe me.”

You opened your mouth to speak but no words came out of it. Remus sighed.

“(Y/N), I would have rejected any girl that had been in your place.”

Frowning, you attempted to speak – then you understood. “Oh! Merlin, I am so sorry – I didn’t know you fancy boys. Nobody told me.”

Abruptly, Remus lifted his head and gave you a startled look. “Wha- No, (y/n), I’m not gay.”

“Remus, that really isn’t something you have to be ashamed of, no matter what anybody says-”

“I am not gay!”

You paused. “Alright... Then what is the problem?”

Remus attempted to say something but then changed his mind and pressed his lips together. He looked like he regretted ever bumping into you.

As you examined his face and the tense expression upon it, you sighed in defeat. “You know what, forget it. I’m sorry, that’s none of my business. I just wanted you to know that I’m sorry for what happened back in the library.” A forced smile appeared on your face as you turned to leave. You felt Remus’ burning eyes on you until you had reached the end of the corridor, leaving you more confused than ever before.

#remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin imagine #marauders era imagine #marauders imagine #liquid amber #part two

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hoodharlow · 3 years

Text

Rain or Shine

AN: Literally a month from today is EL Novio’s first birthady. So while we wait for EL Novio Week. Here’s some workout!Cal :) Also my bby @calumscalm is back and I missed her so much. ilysm Nadya

Requested? Yes by my bby @2fangirl4u [Oh I would love to see what kind of masterpiece you come up with cal and 28 🤤😊 ( “You’re going to get us arrested.” “Oh, I’ve always liked the idea of you in handcuffs.” )]

Warnings: smut and soft Cal talking about love languages towards the end

Word Count: 3.0k words

Claudia was annoyed. She was supposed to meet her group for a presentation but after making her wait over an hour, they all messaged her half-assed excuses on why they couldn’t make it. To add to her annoyance, it was raining and she spent three hours straightening her hair. She should have listened to Calum and stayed in bed with him. She would have gotten at least two orgasms out of that.

While she waited for Calum to pick her up, she graded some media reflections from the introduction to sociology class she was teaching. She reached for a lilac felt pen to make grammatical annotations to a paper. Once she finished, she grabbed a post-it note and wrote a quick summary of what was good about the paper and how the student could improve.

She did the same for two more papers when her phone buzzed. She fished it out of her laptop case. It was a message from Calum, letting her know he’s outside in the parking lot. She quickly responded and began packing her things. She grabbed an empty folder and slipped inthei graded papers. She finished up and made her way to the exit.

Claudia spotted the black G-Wagon and trotted down the steps. She hugged her laptop case, cursing that she’s in only a thin white long sleeve, sans bra. She slipped inside the car and kissed Calum’s cheek.

“Hi.” She said, pulling away before pecking his lips. “Thank you for picking me up.”

A loud honk was heard behind them. Calum mumbled and started the car. His hand instinctively landed on her thigh as he drove out of campus.

“Do you want lunch?” He asked her.

“Sure, but can we take it home? I’m kinda cold.”

Calum glanced over her noticing her nipples poking through her shirt. He bit back a snarky remark so she doesn’t make him turn back and they eat leftovers.

They arrived at Mikko's and Calum parked under a huge tree. Claudia turned to the back seat and grabbed one of Calum’s hoodies that he kept when he stayed late in the studio.

“I told you I left them in here!” Claudia exclaimed, pulling out a black floral bodysuit. She sat back in her seat and chucked it at him. “And you said it was in Ashton’s house.”

“No, I said the red La Perla one was.” He said placing her bodysuit in his gym bag. “Let’s go inside before there’s a line.”

Hand in hand they went inside the restaurant. Claudia sat in a chair and waited for Calum to order. Her eyebrows furrowed as the hostess giggled at something he said. Though she relaxed when she saw him take a step back as the hostess tried to touch his arm. He paid and sat next to Claudia, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. Their food was ready half an hour later.

Calum led them out of the restaurant. He set their food in the back and reached to Claudia’s door to open it. He heard her groan in frustration. He looked over his shoulder and saw her leaning against a cement bollard with her shoe off.

“Did you step in a puddle, again?” He asked, knowing well that she did.

He wasn’t sure how, but she always managed to step in a deep puddle when it rained. No matter where they went, if it rained, her shoes got wet.

“Yeah,” she mumbled. She slipped on her shoe and made grabby hands at him. “Can you carry me, please?”

“Of course.”

He hiked her over his shoulder and set her down on the car. They stared into each other's eyes, their breath suddenly getting heavy and breathy. Without skipping a beat, Claudia pulled him to her lips. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders as Calum’s hands rested on her ass. They slowly devoured each other, bodies melting into each other. Calum wedged one of his legs in between hers and let her slowly rub herself against his dark jeans.

He pulled away. “We should get home before I take you against the car. With how loud you get, you’re going to get us arrested.”

“Oh, I’ve always liked the idea of you in handcuffs.”

***

“We got an audience.” Calum’s trainer said, making him look back go see Claudia leaning against the door frame.

Calum smiled and waved at her, stopping to realize he forgot to pick her up from school. After lunch, Claudia's professor called her in for a last minute meeting about the class she was TAing. Since she hated driving in the rain, Calum offered to drive her to campus once again. He was going to pick her up, but his trainer managed to squeeze him in. A simple leg session turned into a full body workout.

"Oh don't mind me. I'm just admiring your work." Claudia told Jesse, gesturing to a sweaty Calum.

She bid them goodbye and slipped back in the kitchen. Calum had his gaze trained on her that he didn't notice his trainer signaling him. Until he snapped a band into Calum's arm.

He rubbed his arm and looked over to Jesse.

"Pay attention." He simply said.

Another half hour passed and Calum was exhausted. He regretted calling his trainer. He walked him out, agreeing to meet him in two days for leg day.

He closed the door and threw himself into his couch. Duke wandered in with his toy duck in mouth. He placed it on Calum's shoulder so he could throw it. Calum grumbled and gave his back to Duke. The old puppy yipped and got on his hind legs to push him. Calum responded with a few colorful words, resulting in Duke going into full barks.

"What's wrong baby?" Claudia asked walking into the living room.

Calum turned around. "Jesse worked—"

"I wasn't asking you. Not everything is about you, Cal." Claudia said. She scooped Duke into her arms and kissed his head. "Was your papi being mean?"

Duke yipped in response.

Claudia gasped. "No, that butthead." She shook her head in disappointment at Calum. "C'mon let's have a cookie in the kitchen."

"What about me?" Calum whined.

"What about you?"

"I want a cookie."

"Good for you." She looked at him confused then walked out of the living room with Duke.

Calum groaned and pulled off his wet clothes. He stayed in his boxers and went to the laundry room to wash his wet clothes. He ran upstairs and took a quick shower. When he came out of the shower, cinnamon and sugar filled the house. He excitedly slipped on his grey sweatpants because Claudia made snickerdoodles.

Duke and Claudia were dancing in the kitchen when he walked in. Calum was quick to notice that she changed out of her jeans and was only in his hoodie. He caught a peek of r light blue panties under his hoodie.

"Ew, now you're all sweaty Cal." Claudia giggled as Calum shook off his wet hair.

"Excuse you, I just took a shower." He argued.

"Aver?" She asked. She turned around and nuzzled her face into his neck. "Is that my body wash?"

"Yeah, I was in the mood to smell like lemon custard." he said referring to her body wash's scent.

"I'm not complaining." Claudia mumbled into his neck.

She pushed herself up on the counter to have better access to Calum. She pulled him with her legs and wrapped them around his waist. She softly ran her hands over his arms, gently squeezing his biceps.

"You might wanna put on a shirt," she commented. She slid her hands down his chest, tweaking his nipples. "You seem a little cold."

"Well it is raining outside."

"That's true."

Calum shook his head, trying his best to not laugh. He leaned down and gave her a quick peck on her lips. Noticing that he had her caged in his arms, pressed his hips into hers. Claudia let out a soft gasp of pleasure. He pulled away and thrusted into her once again, earning louder sounds from her.

"Need you." Claudia murmured into Calum's lips before kissing him.

The kiss deepened. Clothes were shed, leaving them both naked. Claudia shivered in anticipation as Calum tossed her panties onto the small pile of clothes.

"You might wanna put on a shirt," Calum commented. He slid his hands from her thighs to her chest, running his thumbs over her nipples. "You seem a little cold."

"That's probably because my boyfriend left me waiting out in the rain."

"I said I was sorry."

"Actually you didn't. I can't believe you let me potentially get ammonia."

"It's pneumonia, Claudia."

"Well that," She looked up at him and smiled innocently. "But you could, like make it up to me."

"I figured that's what I was doing since we're both naked."

"I mean since we're both naked might as well."

Calum snorted and pulled her close to him. He stroked his length a few times then coated himself with Claudia's arousal. He placed one of her legs over his shoulder and slid into her.

Claudia nails dig into Calum's biceps as he pounded into her. He took her rough and passionately. It was one of those times that they just wanted to get off. No time to enjoy each other with love and devotion. Just with lust. He snapped his hips burying himself deep into her with every thrust.

"Duke?" Calum mumbled, stopping mid thrust.

"Cal, I know you didn't just say Duke in the middle of us fucking." Claudia snapped at him.

"It's just that he's out rolling in the mud and I barely bathed him yesterday." He pulled out of her and pulled up his sweatpants. "I know, I know. I'll be quick."

She was left speechless as he ran out barefoot and shirtless. She hopped off the counter and quickly got dressed, pulling on her rain boots and raincoat to help him get Duke inside. Unfortunately for them, Duke thought it was a game. He sprinted past Calum’s legs and excitedly yipped as his pops slipped and fell.

“No la chingues Duke. Orale metese.” She said sternly. Duke immediately stopped wagging his tail and whined. Claudia crossed her arms. “I don’t wanna hear it. Inside, now.”

Duke scoffed and went inside as if he didn’t do anything. He laid on the floor and waited for them to rub his belly.

Claudia bent down and scooped him up in her arms. She turned to Calum. “Go take a shower and I'll dry him off.”

“I just took one.” He responded with a huff.

“And? You ran out barefoot and shirtless out to the rain. Do you wanna get ammonia?”

“It’s pneumonia.”

“Next time, you're not gonna be here to correct me. Go take a shower. I’ll be there in a bit.”

Calum looked like he was going to say something else but closed his mouth. He knew better than to start something over nothing. He retreated upstairs. Shrugging off his sweats in the middle of the room, he turned on the shower.

The warm water hit his back, helping his muscles relax. He leaned against the shower wall and his mind wandered off. He slowly stroked himself imagining Claudia on the counter. Her muffled moans filled his ears. The way she dug her nails into his biceps as he took her.

He groaned as his hand sped up. He placed his other hand on the wall in front of him to help him stay up. He squeezed himself, as if it was Claudia clenching him when she was close to cumming.

"Ni te esperas." Claudia said loudly, startling him.

"I was fucking close." He grumbled, sliding the shower door open.

"Now you know how it feels." She shrugged, getting under the shower head.

They both faced each other trying to share the shower head. Surprisingly they didn't try to do any sort of teasing. Ever since he dropped her at Michael's wedding, shower sex was on the no list.

Calum went to get Claudia some clothes for her to change in while she dried her hair with her diffuser. She usually dries her hair without any heat, but it was cold. She knew that when it was time for them to go to bed, her hair would still be wet. She had her mom's lecture of never sleeping with wet hair, and all the bad things that can happen if she did, engraved in her head.

She set the hairdryer on the counter and slipped on Calum's shirt and her panties. After she finished her after shower routine, she crawled into bed with Calum. His hands drummed on her ass while she scrolled through the DVR to pick something for them to watch. Deciding on ‘Good Girls’, Claudia laid on her stomach facing his TV. By the first commercial break Claudia on edge.

She looked over her shoulder at Calum. He was on his phone while his fingers mindlessly rubbed her thigh. She rolled her eyes and went back to watching the show. Every so often she’d feel his fingers close to her core, but he’d pull away. Annoyed with his obliviousness, she decided to take matters into her own hands. She lifted her hips, pushing her ass into Calum’s thigh in hopes of getting his attention.

“You know if you wanna have sex all you have to do is ask, pretty girl.” Calum said without looking away from his phone.

For the last half hour he’d been playing Bubble Pop with his mom. He began to tease Claudia after he noticed that she was watching the Rio guy—her current character crush—. He knew that she’d be ready for him if he intentionally pretended to not rub her through her panties.

“Can we have sex?” She sweetly asked him.

“Of course.”

With that Claudia stood on her knees and pulled down her panties. She laid on her stomach with her ass in the air.

“Guess me asking you to ride me is off the table.” He chuckled.

His boxers were gone. He took his time stroking himself as he lined up with Claudia’s entrance. With one hand on her hip, he used the other to guide his cock. He rubbed his length up and down her slit. Claudia knew this is him getting back at her as he continued to run his tip up and down her folds.

She looked over her shoulder to him and pouted as he continued to tease her. “Cal.” she whined.

“I need to get hard.”

“Please you’ve been hard since I hopped in the shower.” She sassed him. Before she could make another remark, he roughly pushed himself inside her. “Shit!”

“That’s what I thought pretty girl.”

Calum used both hands to grip her hips. He leaned down, pulling Claudia’s back to his chest as he kissed her shoulder. He slowly started thrusting his hips, letting her get used to him. She kept her eyes close shut as he fucked her.

All day they’ve been trying to find a way to get off, but something always stopped them. Now they weren’t going to let anything get in the way.

“Fuck.” Calum moaned out.

His lips kissed all over her neck as he continued to fuck Claudia. She rocked back against him meeting his thrusts.

“Fucking missed you, Claudia.” He whispered in her ear. Calum shifted his hips as he thrusted into her. The new angle hitting her in that spot that made her a moaning mess.

“Please, fuck—.” Claudia moaned out, not being able to finish what she was saying.

She pushed back rougher to meet his thrusts. He gripped her hips with one hand while the other went down to her clit. Calum worked his fingers roughly as he pushed his hips into Claudia.

He buried his face in her neck, kissing her sweet spot. Her quiet praises filled the room, egging him on. She quietly whimpered his name, lazily meeting his thrusts before her orgasm took over. Calum’s followed soon after. With three shallow thrusts, he pushed himself deep inside Claudia, spilling every last drop in her.

Wordlessly they helped each other clean up their mess. Claudia laid on her back as Calum plopped on top of her. She pushed back his messy curls to see his face. She’s not a big fan of the length since it covered half of his face, but occasionally the long curls served their purpose. Usually when she needed something to hold onto when he ate her out.

“Did you mean when you said you missed me?” Claudia softly asked him.

“You heard that,” he mumbled, burying his face into her chest.

“I mean you were hitting it from behind, how could I not hear you.” She teased.

Calum pushed himself off her and laid next to her, pulling her to his chest. Their go-to position when they have deep thoughts about everything and anything. He rubbed her back, wording in head what he was going to tell her.

“I did mean it,” he began. “I don’t know. I feel like we haven’t spent as much time as we could if that makes sense. I’m partly to blame since the guys and I changed labels and managers. On top of that I leave every other week to the studio with them. Then you’re busy with school, not that it’s a bad thing. I know school’s your first priority. I don’t want you to think that it’s getting in the way of us because it’s not.

I just missed you. I try to spend as much time with you even if it’s driving you twenty minutes to school or watching you bake when I answer a few emails. I used to be grateful that you kept the fridge and pantry fully stocked because I hate going to the grocery store and Target. Until now. I missed us reading all the unpronounceable ingredients of snacks we don’t eat. I miss us reading synopsis of all the erotica books with straight faces before we start laughing because an elderly lady is listening to us and actually considering buying a book… I didn’t realize that I missed doing all of that with you until we stopped.”

“I missed you too. I just didn’t say anything because I didn’t wanna sound clingy.” Claudia said, wiping a few tears.

She sat up on her knees and hugged him. Calum tightly hugged her back. They stayed quiet in each other's arms.

“You know what’s tomorrow?” She asked him. He shook his head. “Costco day.”

“Did I ever tell you how much I miss going to Costco with you when you wear leggings?”

Taglist: @f-mu @another-lonely-heart @sunshinebabycal-deactivated2021 @calumscalm @karajaynetoday @cherryxwildflower @myloverboyash @idontneedanyone @findingliam-o @5-secondsofcolor @spicylftv @sexgodashton @fckingpernico @2fangirl4u @calpops

#calum hood smut #calum hood imagine #calum hood fluff #calum hood one shot #calum hood fanfic #calum hood imagines #calum hood fanfiction #calum hood fan fiction #calum hood fan fic #El Novio series

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revenant-dumpster-fire · 3 years

Text

Flower (Revenant x Reader)

[For AO3 archive, click here.]

Theme: Loneliness and depression are a painful but wicked combination after you have to talk about your past when you don’t want to. No matter how optimistic your friends might be, it doesn’t really fix anything.

Warnings: Graphic content, references to sex, references to past assault, references to noncon, male dominance, threats of violence, descriptions of violence, sharp objects, pain, post-traumatic stress disorder, bipolar, depression, mania, fluff.

Reader's Notes: Revenant (Apex Legends) x Reader, reader is female.

Writing Notes: What the fuck is a plot?

Navigation:

First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

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You wake up to the sun fully over the skylight window, shining brightly into your eyes. You groan as you realize what time it must be. Closing your eyes only reminds you how thin your eyelids are, as the only color you see is a fleshy red rather than the lovely darkness you wish you could experience. You pull your arm over your eyes and experience the darkness again, if only for a few precious moments.

As you come to, you remember what you did last night and feel a weird sense of concern overcome you. That wasn't a dream, was it? You are lying here without clothes on, after all, and you don't exactly feel clean either. It definitely happened. You panic a little and jolt up in bed, holding the blanket to cover you as you scan the room. You're alone, and there's no sign of where Revenant could be.

You review the events of yesterday to yourself. You remember Revenant taking apart his old chassis and saving some of the parts from it. You remember teasing him until he tied you to a chair using his scarf, although you remember kinda deserving that. You snicker to yourself, remembering how he called you a "bully" to Sherry. Yes, you definitely bullied the giant, metal simulacrum built to kill. You remember Revenant left you pizza that was good enough that a blatant murder couldn't distract people from it, and then you remember chasing it down with too much vodka. You remember Revenant covered in blood at some point after that, then Pathfinder showing up, then falling asleep alone...? That last bit doesn't make much sense, but there was probably a decent reason for all those things happening together. Then you remember waking up in the middle of the night and definitely remember Revenant gently loving on you to the fullest extent.

You've never actually thought you'd be open to sex at all. Especially considering all you've been through, it's amazing you trusted Revenant enough to let him do that to you. You take a deep breath to yourself. It's too easy to be anxious about experiences like this, especially when they tread such a close line to your past traumas. In reality, you don't regret anything, you've just surprised yourself. The main concern now is why would Revenant run off immediately after a night like that?

Maybe you'll feel better after a shower and cleaning stuff up a bit. After all, you've learned that dwelling on discomfort only leads to more confusion and generally a breakdown. That's the last thing you need right now. No need to ruin something that should be a positive experience with an anxiety-riddled spiral into depression. Imagine losing your mind all because Revenant had some errand to run today. That would be silly.

You get out of bed and scurry to the bathroom, finding some used towels hanging to dry. You're not sure if they're the ones you used or the ones he used, but it doesn't really matter. He's made of metals, plastics, silicones, and PVCs. It's not like his towels are going to have anything gross on them. You grab the closest one and quickly change your mind when you notice the red streaks across it. That's blood, and it's not like it could possibly be his. You throw it to the corner of the tile floor to remind yourself to wash it later. The other towel must have been yours, because there's no blood on it and it's considerably drier than the other.

You turn the shower knobs and wait patiently for the water to warm up, taking a moment to brush your teeth while you wait. Ever since he went on a long tangent about shaving, you can't help but eye his razor case when you see it. You wouldn't dare touch it since you know how much it means to him, but you'd like to see it at some point. The steam starts to fog up the mirror, so you quickly finish with your teeth and jump in the shower. You rapidly clean yourself with as much soap as you can manage to lather into your hair and skin.

You nab the clean towel and dry yourself off, spending an excessive amount of time trying to dry your hair as much as possible. You made the right call, a hot shower helps a lot with anxiety. You leave the bathroom and rummage through your bag for the most comfortable pair of shorts and shirt you own. You notice you're a bit shaky and sore from the night before, but it's nothing you can't handle. As soon as you're dressed and your hair is brushed enough to be detangled, you consider yourself put together enough. Nothing wrong with a lax day for laundry and lounging about.

You grab the towels from the bathroom; the sheets, blanket, and pillowcases off the bed; your clothes you found in the corner of the room; a bloody old towel from the kitchenette; and a small pile of your dirty clothing from the past couple days and wrap them together in the comforter, dragging the giant makeshift bag of dirty laundry down the quiet hall into the laundry room. It seems like the trios match was as violent throughout as the ending was--there is not a soul in the hallway, meaning the infirmary must still be quite full. The only Legends you know are back from the match are the winners--Revenant, Wattson, and Wraith--as well as Pathfinder. That makes sense, after all Pathfinder just needs some repairs to be good as new since he's a MRVN, which can be performed hours after any match.

The laundry room has only one dryer running, echoing a mundane hum in the large room with the uncanny beat of the contents turning over repeatedly. You find a few washing machines in the far corner of the room and start separating the delicate items from the colors from the bleach-worthy whites. Thankfully, all the blood-soaked towels were once white, so they get a washing machine all their own along with the sheets. You pull the detergents and bleach out of the cabinet and start over-soaping all the loads, setting the timers to start each machine as they fill with hot water. Steam starts pouring into the room: commercial-quality washing machines are able to use tons of near-boiling water to sanitize anything inside of them. The room's vent fans kick in to try to keep the room's humidity low, but the fans will definitely struggle to keep up.

The door to the laundry room opens and Sherry shuffles in, bags under her eyes and likely hungover from a night of celebrating Wattson's victory. She's too foggy to notice you, so you shuffle over to her.

"Hey, Sherry! Drink too much last night?" You chime, Sherry weakly holding her head.

"Ugh, yes. And that stupid pizza didn't help. It was so perfectly greasy that I couldn't feel how drunk I was getting." She moans, making her way over to the only running dryer.

"So, this is all Revenant's fault then?"

"Absolutely, you and your stupid metal man always conspire to make me worry or drink myself into a stupor because of good pizza." She manages to put just a little sarcastic tone to her voice, but is clearly struggling through her headache. "So, why aren't you hungover? After what I saw yesterday, I was sure you'd bully Revenant into a drinking contest until he tied you to the ceiling vent."

You chuckle, it sounds almost too wild to be accurate, but you've learned that testing Revenant's limits always leads to the unexpected. Sherry continues, a sudden glint showing in her eye.

"So, since you didn't drink to celebrate, then you obviously must have--"

"Sherry--!" You try to shout over her, knowing exactly where she's going with this.

A devilish look creeps across Sherry's face, almost wiping out her hungover grimace. She dashes away from you and towards the running washing machines, leaving you stunned just long enough that you can never hope to catch her. She throws the lids open of all three, pouring steam into the room and all over her face, but she doesn't wince at all. The hot steam almost seems to invigorate her more.

"Sheets! I fucking knew it!" She laughs maniacally, her face red and moist from shoving her face in the billowing plume of vapor. She slams the lids shut, letting them clang loudly as the agitators begin to whir back to life after being interrupted. "You did it! You finally did it!" She scurries back to you with the energy and erratic movements of a cockroach, finally reaching you to shove her finger against the tip of your nose. Her wicked grin is now in full form, only enhanced by the deep purple hues under her eyes.

"Sherry, it's not that big of a--" You start, trying to be honest but not let her go where she's definitely going.

"Ohohoho, yes it is! This is proof that you can move past your assault! It's huge! It means you're working past your traumas!" Her excitement makes her sound much louder than she actually is. "And it makes me feel so much better about this whole fling you're having, since Revenant was understanding of it all." She twirls away with her arms outstretched, as if to praise some unseen angels.

"Sherry, he doesn't know." You mumble half-heartedly, hoping she might ignore you. She whips her head back in a fury, which must hurt with her hangover.

"You didn't tell him anything?!" Now she's loud. "What were you thinking?! I get that you don't need to tell just anyone, but don't you think you should have told him so he'd know to take it slow?!" She grabs you by your cheeks and pivots your head to meet her eyeline. "What if he did something that caused a breakdown?! He wouldn't have had any clue why, and he wouldn't have been able to help you!"

"Sherry, it's oka--"

"No it isn't! That's not fair to either of you! You can't just let someone go waltzing through a minefield because you're not sure how to tell them that you had some fucked up shit happen to you!" She pulls you into a massive hug, shoving your face into her chest per usual, since it naturally lands there due to your height difference.

"I'm sorry, I don't want to yell at you, but you seriously need to be careful." She softens, sighing as she realizes you're shivering a little. "Look, if you don't know how to tell him, I will do it for you."

"Thanks, but I think I have to do it." You sigh, recognizing she's right. "Honestly though, the only thing I remember is the rag and then waking up in the hospital." You pull away from her, ensuring she can hear you clearly.

"I know you may not think it's a big deal since you can't remember much, but what happened to you is absolutely traumatizing." Sherry wipes away a tear you didn't even feel escape your eyes. "Seriously, if you really like Revenant, you should tell him what you remember and what you know, even if it's hard." Now you feel the emotional hurt, and you hate this. Everything was fine, but now it isn't, and you're struggling to keep your composure.

"I wish I didn't have to. I don't like talking about it. I didn't even do anything wrong, I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Why do I have to confess it like it's some crime I committed? It's not fair!" Now you start to cry, and Sherry hugs you again, drying your tears with her shirt. She pets your head and hair, trying to comfort you in any way she can.

"Like I said, I'll do it if you need me to." She sighs while holding you tight. You don't intend to pull away until you've calmed yourself anyway. "I guess you don't really have to tell him, but I really think you should..." She trails off, trying to undo any harshness from before. You feel her face bury into your hair as she holds you closer.

You manage to pull yourself together, the despair slowly releasing its hold on you, even if the sense of doom does not. You have no idea how you're going to tell Revenant anything. How do you even start such a conversation? What if he thinks you should have told him before, like Sherry does? Will he feel betrayed? Or will he understand? The knot in your gut stiffens more.

Sherry holds you until you naturally pull away, rubbing your eyes and now looking worse than the hungover woman in front of you. Sherry looks at you with very concerned eyes that betray her wary smile, clearly trying to cheer your spirits despite her honest concerns.

"I'm sure it will be okay. After all, you managed to open up to him already in a way." Sherry sheepishly encourages you, placing her hand on your shoulder. She takes a deep breath, clearly feeling her aches again, but continues to try to bring you back from the brink of despair. "I bet you opened up real nice for him last night, didn't you?" Her teasing is missing its usual edge, but you can't help but appreciate her effort. You chuckle a little at how hard she tries.

"Didn't have to when he can do it for me." You banter back, taking pity on her weakened state.

"Your little rendezvous must have made quite the mess to have to wash the whole bed, huh?" You shouldn't have given her the inch, she fully plans to take a mile.

"Sherry, why must you do this to me?" You ask, rolling your eyes, turning away to help her with her laundry in the dryer. She could use the help, there's no way she feels well.

"Did he pull out? Is that why you needed to wash the whole bed?" She pauses as you actively try to ignore her, pulling her miscellaneous clothing from the dryer and placing it on top of the machine. Sherry doesn't quit. "Wait, if he's mechanical, can he even cu--"

"Sherry! That's gross!" You interrupt her.

"The pursuit of knowledge isn't gross!" Her energy is back now that she's found a foxhole she plans to dig into. "Anyways, you're the one who holds this forbidden knowledge! Now spill it!" She pauses, "Literally, if you must."

"For fuck's sake Sherry, why are you like this?!" You yell at her through a genuine laugh. No matter how gross that statement is, it is also really funny. You feel a little better, but the knot in your stomach remains.

She grabs a shirt out of the clumped up pile and folds it with zero care or grace. It might as well be a glorified knot. She puts it down and grabs for another, not caring at all to fold anything well. You help her fold, but actually do it correctly.

"So? Spill it!" She insists after making a few knotted clothes. You sigh, frustrated but unwilling to fight her.

"Yeah, I guess he had something in him. Probably the same slick stuff those synthetic refills are made of that you can get for prosthetics. Not that I could really tell anyway, it felt like any other liquid would in there." You mumble quietly.

"Heheheheh, gross." She giggles.

You throw the warm pair of pajama pants you're holding square in her face for that one.

• • • •

You're sitting on the bench in the laundry room, a pile of Sherry's properly folded clothes off to the side and Sherry herself snoring against your shoulder. She promised to stay with you while you wait for your laundry to finish, but you're not sure how helpful it is for her to snore in your ear and drool on your shoulder. She didn't manage to stay awake for long after she sat down with you, but this was inevitable with how hungover she is. Sometimes it really is best to sleep it off whenever possible, although you worry about her hydration. You'll wake her up if you really need to move, and then you'll get her a sports drink or something when you do.

At this point you've moved your laundry into a dryer. The commercial grade washing machines are insanely fast, but drying can only work so quickly. You might be here for a bit, whether you like it or not. Properly folding all of Sherry's clothes kept you occupied for a little while, but now all you have left to keep you company are your thoughts and the sounds of Sherry's snores.

You wonder to yourself why you're so worried over talking about your past with Revenant. You've been dismissive of it this whole time, but to be fair he has never pressed you on it either. You've told him you were homeless and used to date one of the other women in the shelter, but you didn't tell him that she eventually found a way out of poverty. You had to break up with her so she could move on. You didn't fully explain that your past relationship was so you could always stick together and watch out for each other. You definitely didn't tell him how you ended up homeless in the first place, and certainly not what happened to you after the breakup. In truth, you don't want to talk about it. You don't like being a victim of circumstance, modern societal failures, and a criminal underbelly that intentionally preys on people like you. Everyone who's unfortunate enough to be born into this cybernetic hellscape has a story or two that could curdle blood, and you're no different. Heck, you're sure Revenant has plenty too.

The fact of the matter is, you're alive and able to tell the tales of your past, which is better than the slew of victims, predators, and petty criminals alike that are missing or buried in shallow graves. It almost feels disrespectful to the slew of dead and abandoned individuals to complain since you've survived and gotten somewhere better. There's no way you can deny that you've won the jackpot by getting to work for the Apex Games, let alone getting hired and getting so close to one of the Legends themselves. Who are you to complain? You know that feeling shame for getting out of your situation isn't how you should feel--after all, everyone should have a right to talk about their past and experiences--but you can't shake the feeling of survivor's guilt that ebbs away at you.

You put your arm around Sherry and rub her opposite shoulder, but she doesn't wake up. She's really the reason you're out of the trenches of modern society at all. She secured you this job which gave you everything you could need, rent free. The tips from the Legends have let you save up money to escape when this opportunity falls through. Even moreso, Sherry didn't drop the offer for the job when you were hospitalized; in fact, she doubled down on making sure you got the position. You have no idea how much harder she had to work to get you here while you recovered for months, and you've always been afraid to ask. You almost don't want to know the debt you owe her, since you'd spend your whole life trying to pay her back. Sherry probably wouldn't want you to do that either; she's just so happy to have someone she can treat like a sister again.

The door to the laundry room opens again, snapping you out of you pondering.

"Skinsuit! There you are! I've been looking for you." Revenant swiftly makes his way over to you. He's holding a plastic bag, clearly with something inside. He towers over you, looking down at you and the drooling sloth latched to your side.

"Oh, sorry, I was just doing laundry." You mumble, caught in his bright, LED eyes.

"Skinsuit." He pauses, likely seeing your blank stare. You take a moment to come out of your adoring trance, shaking your head a little to clear your thoughts.

"Sorry, what's wrong?"

"We need to talk." The knot in your stomach falls deeper and yanks your gut down with it. Those are the worst words in the world, and the catastrophic thoughts in your head immediately start to wind up. Before you can even finish processing your thoughts, Revenant has picked Sherry up and off of you, laying her down on the bench. She doesn't even stir, she just snores louder now that she's lying flat. Revenant grabs your wrist and hoists you to your feet. "Come, now." His voice is so foreboding.

"Wait, the laundry isn't done yet." You pull back, resisting his grasp on you. You don't want to confront whatever he's upset about. It could be anything, and you just don't want to hear whatever words will inevitably hurt you.

Revenant doesn't release your wrist, but he grips it harder, forcing you forward and closer to him.

"I'm not asking." His eyes are terrifying points, the most intense look he can give, and he's staring straight at you. "Come. Now."

He doesn't give you time to even step forward before he starts dragging you. You trip over your feet as you try to regain your balance. He takes you out of the room and down the long hallways.

You panic. What the hell did you do? Does he regret last night? Did you accidentally hurt or insult him? What on earth does he want to talk to you about? Is he going to fire you and treat you like a nobody again? How could you possibly still work here if he cuts ties? You'll be traumatized every time you see him. What the hell did you do?

He drags you into his room. You could throw up you're so stressed. He drags you to the bare mattress and flings you down onto it. You try to fall into a sitting position, but fail and roll onto your back. He's standing over you, the intense look still hardened on his visage. He throws the bag to the side, its contents smacking the side table hard.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to upset you!" You practically cry, feeling the tears well up in your eyes. You hold your hands in front of you instinctively. He's breathing so rapidly, he must be livid. What the hell did you do?

"Skinsuit." His voice isn't angry, his heavy and rapid breathing isn't rage. He's clearly upset, but not enraged at you. He almost sounds sad. "Who tried to kill you?"

You hold your breath, staring at him. Time passes, but you don't know how to answer. Finally, Revenant hunches forward to get closer to you, slipping a claw under your shirt and against your abdomen.

"This isn't a surgical scar. This is a stab wound from a kitchen knife." He sounds calm again, but you're still too locked up to answer him. "I wasn't sure until I saw the other four scars."

His hands glide to another place on your abdomen on the opposite side, then to an area of your lower rib cage, a second under your breast, and one near your clavicle. He brushes each one carefully before pulling you up into a sitting position to meet his eyes.

"What happened?" His face is right in front of you. You didn't realize this is how you were going to have to tell him, let alone that the scars are what he'd latch on to. He sighs, not getting a word out of you yet.

He stands up and sits down next to you on the side of the bed. He's so damn heavy that he creates a pit in the mattress that sucks you towards him. You land against his arm, which wraps around your back and holds you close.

"Don't panic, I just want to know what happened." He states, keeping as monotone as possible. You can sense that he's actually quite upset still, but is likely trying to make sure you don't feel like the target of his ire.

You're still having trouble reigning in all the anxiety, catastrophic thoughts, depressed ideations, and traumatized fear to yourself. If you speak now, nothing is going to make sense and you might start to cry instead. His hold is reassuring, but it's not enough to stop your brain from running on all threads against your will. You feel yourself shaking against his metal frame, trying to come up with an extra bit of bandwidth to talk, but unable to muster any.

You hear him sigh as he notices you struggling. He pulls you further into the gravity sink he's created in the mattress edge and leans into you, intentionally rattling his artificial lung pumps in your ear. He gives you a few minutes to try to gather yourself before he decides to intercede.

He holds your chin and forces you to face him. His LED eyes are bright and much more relaxed than before, and the sight of him calms you down quite a bit. You almost forget what you are even thinking about; only a single, lucid line of thought still runs in your head. Your shuddering stops, and you feel clear enough to speak again. You take a deep breath, and you let yourself speak.

"Right after my ex and I went our separate ways and I met Sherry, I would walk between here and the homeless shelter so I could keep on top of getting this job." You lower your head to look away, so Revenant withdraws his hand from your chin. "I guess some gang was watching me and saw an opening one night. I got grabbed from behind and they put a rag on my face, but when I went to scream I woke up in the ICU instead." You pause. "I don't remember anything, but they told me I had been--"

"You don't have to say it." Revenant interrupts before your voice cracks from the thought. You sigh, grateful for the reprieve.

"I guess they decided to kill me and dump me in a ditch out in the Dust, probably hoping a pack of prowlers would destroy the evidence." Your voice tremolos as you struggle to put together experiences you don't remember. "They nearly succeeded. I almost bled out in the ditch, but a Hammond employee found me on his way home from a late night at the office and got me to a hospital." You feel numb, but your voice betrays you. "They destroyed one of my lungs, managed to slit open my digestive tract in a few places, barely missed both my jugular and subclavian veins at once, and hit me directly in the liver and popped one of my kidneys. I should have died."

You sit there for a moment, gathering your thoughts. Revenant respects the silence and waits for you to continue.

"The Hammond employee who found me donated a bunch of their prototyped synthetic organs to replace mine. One of my lungs, one of my kidneys, and my liver are Hammond prototypes of the ones currently on the market. I also have some of their experimental silicone meshes holding together the digestive tract in the multiple places it was sliced open. I don't think I would have recovered without them."

"How are they holding up?" Revenant asks, carefully pushing his hand against your chest on the side with the artificial lung.

"I haven't noticed any problems, not to say that I know what that would feel like." You place your hand over his, gently touching the Hammond Robotics logo etched into the plate on the back of his hand. It has giant gashes in it, as if he's tried to scratch it off at some point. If this is a new chassis, he must have scratched it out very recently.

"So they used you as a guinea pig for their prototypes?" Revenant growls. "Typical."

"I never thought about it like that. It's not like I could afford synthetics anyway, let alone real ones. It felt like a blessing." You run your fingers over each jagged metal scratch on his metal plates carefully. "I would have died if Hammond hadn't donated them."

"Not to scare you, but be careful with the deals you make with those devils." Revenant's hand pushes harder into your chest.

"I didn't make any deals, I wasn't even asked. They just put them in and sewed me up." You mumble, concerned by his apparent disgust for his own manufacturer.

"Of course they didn't even ask. Silly me." His voice is low and dripping with hatred. You start to pull away from him in fear, but he notices and pulls you back gently. He wraps his arms around you completely and his chin rests on your head. You're not going anywhere at this point. "I'm not angry with you. You're a victim in all this." His voice is softer, but it's a ruse. His lungs are labored with rage and you can feel the tension in his body. You let the silence fall for a moment.

"Revenant, are you okay?" You whimper from under his grasp, unsure of yourself. You feel his fingers turn to points and grip you, but carefully angled not to puncture you.

"I have a lot of work to do." His voice is low and hateful again, his words equally as ominous. His voice jumps back to something softer to address you. "Do you remember anything about the men who chloroformed you? Or when it happened?"

"I'm sorry, it's all really fuzzy." You shake your head a little, in case he can't hear your quiet whisper. He growls, clearly caught up in his thoughts, determined to find a way to narrow down his search. "Does it really matter?" You ask, unsure of what he plans to do.

"Yes, it's important." He huffs for a moment, gathering his thoughts. "I'm going to give you the entrails of every punk who violated you as a gift, and I'm going to pry Hammond's claws off of you before it's too late."

"Wait, you don't have to--"

"You used up your pardon, skinsuit. Now, I am the sole judge, jury, and executioner in this case." He sounds so livid, you can't help but shrink under him and hope none of his wrath is aimed in your direction.

The silence falls again, spare for his blood curdling huffs of rage. He slowly calms himself, likely with some kind of plan on what to do.

"Skinsuit, did they kit you when you were at the hospital?"

"Of course, but there's not a universal DNA database of criminals in the Outlands, assuming it was even entered into one at all. As a gang they might have connections. Either way, it didn't amount to anything. Plus, there was a lot of different DNA..." You trail off, shuddering at your own words and trying not to vomit up the pit in your stomach. Revenant grips you tightly in response to your quivering.

"Skinsuit, I need you to listen to me. I will handle this. I don't want you to worry about it anymore." His voice is determined and steadfast.

"I wasn't worried about it before, I just didn't know how I was going to tell you any of this." You manage to get out as you choke back stressful tears. "I was worried you'd be upset that I didn't tell you earlier."

He locks eyes with you from above, but you avert yours. His LEDs are bright enough that you know he's staring at you, trying to gauge your emotional state. Sure, maybe you are upset by the whole ordeal. Maybe it is why you struggle so much with despair. Maybe it is the event that broke you emotionally. But you don't want to dredge it up any more than you have to. It's hard enough telling him this, why does he need to make it into a mission?

"Your heart rate is spiking." You hear him dryly state. You cower deeper into his frame. "Don't be so nervous, like I said, I'll handle it from here."

Something in your head pops and you feel the unmistakable taste and heat of anger overtake you. Mania shows up for a mere few moments, in an attempt to bring righteous indignation to the fray.

"Handle what?! It's not like you can just undo what happened! What's the point? Just pretend like I didn't say anything!" You pull away from him and stand up, but he holds onto your wrist, only allowing you to get arm's length from him. "You can't just assassinate every problem into oblivion! It doesn't work like that!" You're staring down a simulacrum that has single handedly spilt more blood than in all the people you've met in your lifetime, but for this rage induced moment, you don't care. "Heck, if you really want to erase the problem, kill me! Because then nobody has to deal with it! That's what was supposed to happen! But I just had to get lucky at the worst time imaginable!" Your lungs empty out from yelling.

He reels back in shock, releasing your wrist. You have nowhere to go, so you just hover there, staring him down. In this fleeting moment, you have bested the Revenant. You are in charge, but only for a mere moment in time. The anger peters out and sadness overwhelms you in its place. Tears start flowing before you even start to vocalize your pain. The moment has ended. You hurriedly collapse to your knees on the floor and bury your face in your hands, trying to hide yourself as you cry. You hate it when this happens. Immediately after you get angry enough to snap, you regret everything and collapse into a sobbing mess. Every time. You just openly confessed you wish you had died instead. You asked Revenant to kill you instead. On top of it all, now you're crying on the floor like you didn't just say something heinous to him.

You gasp for air between your desperate attempts to suppress your cries, which leak out as sorrowful whimpers instead. You feel his palm on your head, but you can't bear to look up at him. He gives you a moment, possibly hoping you will collect yourself, but he gives up quickly. He kneels down beside you and you hear the clangs of his scarf straps coming loose. You feel his scarf wrap around your face like a hood, absorbing the wayward tears and helping hide your face. He bunches up the extra scarf around your shoulders and loosely ties the buckled straps to hold it to you. He reaches into the hood and holds your hands that are pressed against your face, intentionally fluttering his fingers around yours to wipe away tears. He withdraws, wraps his arms underneath you, and lifts you in his arms. He doesn't even struggle to lift you, remaining completely unwavering.

You feel him carry you out of the room and down the hallway, back towards the laundry room. You pull his scarf completely over your face, trying to calm your cries to be as quiet as possible. Your labored breathing is the only audible indicator of your tears now. You feel his arms push up against the swinging door to the laundry room before feeling the humidity difference wash over you as he enters. You hear the sound of Sherry still snoring on the bench. Revenant carries you towards the back of the room and gently places you on one of the still-warm dryers. You feel him open the front-loading door on the dryer and pull out the load of laundry, doing the same to the second dryer next to you. As the door clicks shut, you hear Sherry stir and wake up, moaning a little in protest.

"Oh, hey, is she okay?" She sleepily addresses Revenant.

"She needs time." A fairly honest dodge, but not really an answer to her question.

"I guess she told you while I was out, huh?" Sherry sighs, yawning afterwards. Revenant stops moving next to you for a moment.

"You knew?" He doesn't sound mad, simply intrigued.

"Of course, I lied and told them I was her biological sister so I could get into the hospital and stay with her." Sherry sounds sad, reflecting on it. "I had no idea she walked alone between here and the shelter. Had I known, I would have called a cab or just done the interviews over the phone..." She trails off, regaining her composure. "After that, I fudged everything to get her this job so she could escape that life."

"Do you remember any details of that night?" Revenant asks with piqued intrigue.

"Of course, I couldn't forget even if I wanted to." You rarely hear Sherry sound so deep in self-shame. You wish she would accept that it wasn't her fault, but you also know that's easier said than done.

"I'll speak to you about it later, then." You jump a little as his hand caresses your arm. You're too withdrawn in his scarf to see anything, so you have no warning when he touches you. Your startled wince doesn't seem to bother him, as he locks his arm around yours, allowing him to continue working with his hands. He must be folding some of the laundry, or at least trying. You can't imagine he's well-versed in the practice.

"You're going to try to find those guys?" Some hope returns to Sherry's voice.

"I will." He doesn't hesitate and he has no doubts. As an assassin he must have some sleuthing skills. He's more than proven himself to be clever, at the least. You still don't want him to bother, though. It doesn't fix what happened, but maybe it could save someone else, at the least.

"Hey! What the hell?" You hear Revenant shout as he withdraws his arm from you and staggers backwards. You pull your face out of the scarf to see Sherry hugging a very confused Revenant.

"Eviscerate them and hang them by their fucking entrails." Sherry mumbles before letting go, and turning to you. "I hope you don't mind, he earned it." She smiles through her exhausted expression, giving you a quick hug too. She pulls away and shuffles to her folded stack of laundry, picking it up and making her way out of the room. Revenant watches her exit with concentrated attention before turning to you.

"Never thought I'd have a second idiot asking me for a favor." He huffs, stepping back over to you. He reaches into the scarf and holds your cheek for a moment, locking eyes with you. "No worries though, you're my first and favorite idiot." His intense determination has melted back down to a teasing vitriol. You let your head tilt into his palm approvingly, letting some wayward tears drip onto him.

He pulls his hand back slowly, intentionally tugging the scarf back to cover your face so you can't see. You're startled when you feel a pile of warm, clean laundry land in your lap.

"Hold this." You hear him instruct as you feel him pick you back up. You wrap your arms around the pile of sheets, clothes, and towels, doing your best to prevent any from falling out of your grip. He carries you, buried in a pile of warm laundry, all the way back to the room before lightly dropping you onto the bare mattress. You let the laundry bury you, enjoying the warmth.

"Why did I even try to fold anything...?" You hear Revenant mumble as he reaches in and pulls you upright, undoing his scarf from you. You let him pull it off of you, but don't bother to watch him put it back on himself. You prefer to bury yourself back in the warm pile of clothing, messing them up further. You hear his buckles lock down on his chassis as he walks away. "I have some leads to follow up on, stay there until I find you a babysitter." The door slams before you can sit up and ask him what he means. He's already gone. He can disappear as quickly as he can appear, climbing walls and collapsing himself into vents and nooks. Even though he used the door this time, it never ceases to scare you a little.

You wish he would just stay around and not leave. Considering how hard it was to even explain what exactly happened to you when you were attacked, you had hoped he would realize being left alone is the worst possible thing. Although, maybe he does realize this, and is getting Sherry to stay with you. Still, you'd rather it be him. It feels like a cop out for him to just leave you with her, but maybe he's also dealing with some emotions too. Unfortunately, you're worried he thinks he can somehow undo everything that happened to you with a bloodbath of vengeance.

You sigh, getting up and looking at the disheveled pile of laundry. You begin to toss your wads of clothing into your duffel bag. No point in folding any of it, it's not like you own anything nice. As you pick through, some appear to be partially folded but his claws had poked some holes in them. Well, at least it's all cheap and replaceable. You toss them into the bag anyway, right now you don't have time to get new ones. You fold the towels and place them in the bathroom, nicely folded and ready to be used again. You take the one odd rag to the kitchenette, finding the drawer full of its siblings and placing it nicely.

Finally, you make the bed. It's an annoying and cumbersome process when you're working alone--the beds here are so big you have to do laps around it to get all the sheets and blanket right. However, you refuse to cut corners, and get it done pretty quickly. The majority of your past few years here have been focused on housekeeping, so you consider yourself quite adept and efficient at it. After throwing on the pillowcases and making a small mound of plush pillows to jump on later, you consider it done.

With nothing left to do, you decide to jump on the pillow mound early, burying yourself in it.

Almost as soon as you get comfortable, the door swings back open.

"Skinsuit! Meet your friend for the day!" Revenant sounds oddly sadistic, but why?

You turn around to meet eyes with a single, red, optical bulb.

"Hello, new friend! I'm Pathfinder, and I am a MRVN!" He waves at you as if you're not a mere few yards away. You actually already know Pathfinder, but he tends to forget who you are regularly. Maybe it's from getting damaged in the Apex Games? Or perhaps it's since he's only ever met you in passing before. After all, there's never been a good reason for him to remember you until now. "Very nice to meet you, Skinsuit!"

Revenant fights back a chortle as Pathfinder gets your name so morbidly wrong. You have no reason to correct him, though, after all you never had parents to give you a real name. You've been trying on different names for decades. 'Skinsuit' just seems to fit this stage of your life, weirdly enough.

"After our misunderstanding yesterday, I decided to make it up to him by introducing you two." Revenant explains to you, his hands gesturing sarcastically. Misunderstanding is one way to put it. "He's going to make sure you don't hurt, maim, kill, or otherwise damage yourself while I'm gone."

"Yes! I don't let friends do any of those things!" Pathfinder pipes up excitedly, probably not even realizing the subtext of what Revenant is implying.

Revenant must be holding on to your self-destructive rant from earlier. That explains why he's keeping some distance. You wish you could take it back, but words don't work like that. You still can't ignore it and let it stand, though.

"Rev, I'm sorry." You blurt out, not caring what Pathfinder might think. Revenant locks eyes with you for a moment, looking slightly less on-edge than before, but still quite tense. His pause doesn't last long, as his manipulative performance must go on for Pathfinder.

"There's nothing to apologize for. " He shrugs with heavy exaggeration, even though he clearly knows what you're referring to. "Just don't be a liability." He turns to Pathfinder, who has been listening intently. "Try to keep her safe, you wouldn't want to get me in trouble if she gets hurt, would you?"

"Absolutely not, brother!" He salutes, seemingly aloof to the tension in the air.

With that, Revenant disappears behind the closing door and is gone again.

Cool, more metal friends you didn't ask for. Well, the first one went well, maybe this won't be so bad.

"You said the right thing." Pathfinder suddenly sounds more serious, even if it still has an unmistakable twinge of optimism. "He seemed upset. I think you made him feel better."

"Wait, you saw through that?" You're dumbfounded, what is with all the perceptive robots in this place?

"He always acts like that for me, but I don't mind. He only does it for me, so we must be like brothers!" Okay, maybe he's not working with a perfectly clear perspective, but still. "And he wouldn't try to get me to watch you if he didn't value you, so I will do this as a favor to him." The screen on his chest emotes a heart-eyed smiling face. "He was very upset when he thought I had figured out his secret, so you must be a very good friend to be a secret friend!"

"Wait, you saw me yesterday?" Is this MRVN a genius and pretending to be unassuming, or somehow a perfectly naïve clairvoyant? He's able to hide his power of perception from Revenant, so he can't be stupid.

"Of course! I have sensors that pick up on heat and vital signs. But you were clearly hiding, so I did not want to ruin your fun."

Fun? Oh, he's so perfectly naïve, or you're falling for a perfectly executed feign. Whichever it is, Pathfinder is a little scary in the exact opposite manner that Revenant is. Revenant may be a homicidal simulacrum with deeply human roots, but his intentions are fairly obvious and any malice he has is clear cut and concise. Pathfinder is much more confusing, clearly more intelligent than he lets on, but so perfectly optimistic that he comes off as non-threatening. Despite that impression, you've seen Pathfinder take down some of the scariest Legends over the years, often with a near-condescending air of playful joy while doing so. When Revenant kills, the bloodlust is sensible, but playfulness? It's somehow scarier.

"Are you okay, friend? You seem nervous. Did I say something bad?" His emote shows a distressed face.

"Sorry, I just get caught up in thought sometimes. What did you want to do for fun?" You figure he won't hurt you, even if you can't completely figure him out.

"Well, what do you and Revenant usually do for fun?" His emote brightens into a smile again as you grimace internally. He's either wholly unaware or viscously teasing you.

"How about we do something else? Let's..." You think, what would be nice to do? You're a bit hard pressed to come up with anything fun.

"We could bring flowers to people in the infirmary!" He pipes up happily. It's not a bad idea, really.

"Sure! I actually wanted to visit the second place Legends, if that's okay. Fuse is so nice and so is Bloodhound. Caustic... probably won't mind." You've never really met Caustic, but you know he has a reputation for being grumpy.

• • • •

You walk out into the hidden atrium behind Pathfinder's room. You knew this was here, but nobody ever comes out here to your knowledge. The doors lock if you're not careful to keep them open, so the risk of being locked outside tends to lead most to avoid the area entirely, even though it connects two wings more efficiently than the hallways.

It's full of flowers of all types, sizes, and colors. The arrangement is chaotic and seemingly random, but the lusciousness of the plants more than makes up for it. The ground flowers are blooming and have various bee species hovering around, seemingly at peace with one another. There are a few small trees reaching around eight or nine feet high and giving a little shade. One has flowers, another has berries, and yet another has some kind of unripe fruit. It's truly breathtaking, and completely undisturbed after years of being left alone by the other Legends.

"You did all this?" You ask aloud, completely in awe of the secret oasis.

"Yes! Do you like it? We can pick some flowers from here!" Pathfinder seems especially happy to be sharing this with someone.

"It's beautiful." You mutter, still captivated by how mythical this little cut of land feels.

"Thank you! I have been meaning to show Revenant, but he will never chase me this far." Pathfinder shuffles over to an area and pulls up Revenant's abandoned bovine skull from the last match with a giant chipped gash in the forehead. He's filled in the bottom and red rose buds have been replanted in the eye holes. A large snail is making its way around the gash with its mossy shell, making for an artistic arrangement. "I am really proud of this one. I felt bad his new suit was destroyed, so I wanted to keep a part of it for him. Once the roses grow, it will look really nice!"

You're impressed. Revenant seems to have some kind of distaste for Pathfinder, and you're beginning to understand why. Pathfinder is scary. He's terrifyingly kind. If your guard isn't up at all times, he will reach a deep part of you and break down your defenses in an instant. When the entirety of the Outlands treats people as disposable assets and teaches everyone to trust as few people as possible, this MRVN will treat anyone like they truly matter, like they are truly cared for, and like they are capable of great things. It's dangerous to believe those things in this universe. That's how you get victimized, abandoned, and let down. Yet, this MRVN manages to hold on to these beliefs about himself and others, and he isn't broken, dead, or an abandoned shell.

Revenant, like you, can't adhere to those beliefs. The universe has spoken, and it says otherwise. Yet, it feels nice to indulge in the feeling of mattering, even if only for a few hours. Is that why he chose Pathfinder? Of course, Pathfinder is the living opposite of a suicidal ideation, after all. Maybe Revenant knew that.

"Stupid, clever jerk." You mumble out loud.

"Me?" Pathfinder has a confused emote as he points to himself.

"Oh, sorry, no, I meant someone else." You pause, switching subjects. "It's really nice of you to reuse his favorite chassis like this. I think it's really pretty, even if he never sees it."

"Thank you, friend!" His happy emote is back, and he waves you over to another area. "Have you seen this chassis? It's my favorite!"

You walk over and follow him to see a rounded red, purple, and white chestplate that has been cracked and shattered, but loosely put back together. It has the word "Thunder" and the number "81" written on it, as well as a unique mask attached to it. This mask doesn't look like any skull you've seen before, human or otherwise, but still has a bony texture. It appears to have hooks near the chin, perhaps where it was attached to the exoskeleton, as well as unusual leather bags under the eyes. It looks perpetually tired and angry, but you definitely can't say you've seen him wear this before. The chestplate is closed over an old wood stump and beautiful mushrooms have sprung to life in the darkness and reached beyond the chassis to meet the light. His mask has a particularly colorful fungus growing on it, happily latching onto the porous material more easily than the chestplate. It's gorgeous, but you wish you could see this chassis on him too.

"No, I've never seen this one before... I haven't seen him wear it in the games either. What is it?" You ask, curious why he would have such an odd chassis in his repertoire.

"He uses it when we spar! I don't think he uses it much otherwise."

"You two spar?" You're surprised. Maybe Revenant also finds excuses to dabble in the feeling of mattering sometimes.

"Yes! Not too often, I think he gets frustrated that I am an excellent boxer. I have tried to let him win, but he doesn't like that." Your eyes widen. Pathfinder can outclass Revenant in a sparring match? This guy really is scary. "You should come sometime!"

You look back at the busted chassis. Was Revenant knocked out of this one with a blow from Pathfinder? You knew all MRVN are particularly sturdy and powerful, but you never really felt it until now. You're a helpless ragdoll full of easily exploitable and fatal flaws to Revenant, but you never even considered that perspective when around Pathfinder. Now you do.

"You can really beat Revenant?" You mumble aloud, not intending it as a real question.

"When we only use our fists, yes! I don't think I could beat him if he was allowed to use his stabbing hands. He is getting better though!" He doesn't acknowledge your apparent fear, simply giving a chipper answer. "Whiplash to the neck is a weak point in his design. He is learning that he can't let me land an uppercut. You should come watch sometime! I bet he would fight harder with you there!"

The thought of Pathfinder knocking out Revenant with an uppercut is unbelievable to you. You almost want to know if it's really possible.

"I will, if you're both okay with it." You look up at Pathfinder, who immediately makes a happy clapping motion.

"Yes! I look forward to it!"

"Do you have any more insider information on his other suits?" You ask, curious how many he has seen.

"He's told me about some, but I haven't seen them yet. Only some special colored versions of his normal one." He looks upwards as if to think, the emote on his screen changing to match. You've seen some of the other colors in past games, but never in person. You hope he has a lot of different suits, especially since they tend to alter his personality a little. You wonder what his sparring suit does to him.

"We are here to visit Fuse, Bloodhound, and Caustic!" Pathfinder chirps, flashing his ID badge. You place yours on the counter as well, as the receptionist scans them both. You know the receptionist, Carol's been here a long time, and she's used to seeing volunteers come through to visit the Legends.

"Let's pick some flowers for the others, then maybe we can talk some more." You want to make sure you get to see the second place team, knowing the extent of their injuries is well beyond simple gunshots wounds. Revenant had run Caustic and Fuse through completely, and probably broke many of Bloodhound's bones. You're a little worried for all of them.

• • • •

You and Pathfinder approach the receptionist in the infirmary wing, holding three unique bunches of flowers. You couldn't find vases, so they're propped up in glass soda bottles filled with water. It may be a cheap alternative to a proper vase, but the flower quality makes up for it.

She starts to laugh after scanning your badge.

"Little Skinsuit? Is that what you're going by now?" She prods. "Also, I didn't know Revenant liked anyone enough to have a direct hire. I guess all that dedication to the grump-machine paid off, huh? Congrats!" She's very nice, and doesn't pry further than that.

"I'm not going to tell Revenant what not to call me, that would be asking for trouble. But thank you! It only took four seasons and figuring out his favorite liquor." You take your ID back.

"Ha! Leave it to you to make your way up in the world through the craziest means possible. Revenant still scares the heck out of me. Today was the first time I've ever seen him visit anyone, though. Maybe he's softening up." She spins a little in her chair thinking about it. "Anyway, tell Sherry I said 'hi' when you see her next!"

"Will do! Thanks Carol!" You chime back, walking past the desk with your arms full of bouquets, Pathfinder following behind. Why would Revenant have come by here earlier? That's very odd.

As you turn the corner, you see the names of the currently admitted Legends on each of the doorways. There are not many left, it seems like most were discharged this afternoon. Fuse, Bloodhound, and Caustic are all still here though.

Caustic's room is the closest, but you'd rather wait to deal with him last. You haven't met him, and those who have aren't usually treated well apparently. He almost has as bad of a reputation as Revenant, but Sherry has always been able to interact with him reasonably. She told you it had something to do with being close to Wattson, but that doesn't make much sense to you.

"Let's see Fuse first." You say, carefully making your way to Fuse's door. You knock lightly before you hear his booming voice welcome you.

"Door's unlocked, mate!" He barely sounds injured. As you open the door, you see Fuse grinning widely and sitting upright in bed. He's in a hospital gown, chest exposed to reveal a massive but sewed up and sealed wound. "Oy, you brought me flowers! How kind of ya." He's absolutely beaming for someone with a massive hole in his chest.

"Sorry we came so late in the afternoon, I just wanted to visit and make sure you were okay." You fumble over your words, not sure how else to admit you were worried about him and the others. Let alone that it's partially an apology for Revenant absolutely skewering him.

"Not a problem, I see you brought a different metal fellow with ya t'day." He motions to a table beside him, where you place the flowers.

"Good to see you again Fuse, I am glad to see you are recovering well." Pathfinder chirps, forever positive.

"So, sheila, how is the angry feller?" Right, he knows about you and Revenant.

"He's, uh, under some stress, but nothing he can't handle, I'm sure." You're not sure how else to answer. Saying he's fine is too obvious of a lie, but you don't want to be too specific either.

"Really? Who knew? The red rage actually has problems like the rest of us." He chuckles. Normally you wouldn't think much of his statement, but Fuse is the type to try to get anyone to warm up to him, Revenant being no exception. Perhaps you've said too much.

"Yes! Which is why I'm taking care of his secret friend for him! She's not allowed to be a liability!" Pathfinder gently pats your shoulder. Why did he have to say that? Fuse catches sight of your dejected look and laughs harder, gripping his chest to steady the pain. Pathfinder takes his laughter as some kind of endorsement, while you hang your head in embarrassment. Fuse catches his breath finally.

"No worries sheila, I won't tell a soul. You may have to keep that a bit more under wraps though, Pathy." Fuse says through labored breaths. That laugh must have hurt. Pathfinder cocks his head in confusion. "I think the point of having a 'secret friend' is to keep them a secret, not to tell everyone!"

"Oh no! I'm sorry!" Pathfinder realizes his mistake, a blue sad face appearing on his screen.

"It's okay, Pathfinder, Fuse actually already knew." You pat him on the arm in reassurance.

"Yeah, no worries mate. Just be a little more careful." His smile erases any embarrassment you feel. "Well, I'll let ya make your other rounds, I'm gonna turn in for the night." Fuse waves goodbye to you both as you excuse yourselves.

You make your way across the hall to the room labelled for Bloodhound. You lightly knock, and a nurse opens the door carefully for you. You slip in quietly and see Bloodhound lying on their back, their head facing your direction. You see their eyes dart in your direction, no longer buried under their usual goggles. Their head is well-wrapped in gauze, and their breathing mask is replaced with a hospital oxygen mask. You can finally see their eyes, which are filled with a softness you don't usually see.

Artur is on a large perch in the corner of the room, surprisingly. Bloodhound likely had to fight to get Artur into the infirmary at some point, since the perch almost looks to be a permanent installment now. Artur coos, watching the room carefully.

"Ah, the apprentice and Pathfinder." They address you both, but don't sit up. They likely aren't able to in this state.

You look to the nurse and offer her the flowers, not sure if you can approach Bloodhound at all. She takes the vase and puts it on a table a short ways from them, but well within their eyesight. Bloodhound seems enamored by the flowers, but also confused by their presence for a few moments.

"Ah, right, flowers are a common gift to the injured." They say to themself before turning to you both. "Your well wishes are accepted graciously. May the Allfather bless you in return."

You bow instinctively, not wanting to speak too loudly in the quiet room. Pathfinder notices and attempts to do the same, but starts to lose his balance and barely recovers. Once you right yourself, you break the silence for a mere moment.

"Get well soon, Bloodhound. Please don't..." You trail off, not sure where you were going. Die? Unlikely. Hurt? They're already hurt. Hate Revenant? They're not the type. "... don't be a stranger." You recover a little, but you're sure you're coming off awkwardly.

Bloodhound smiles with their eyes, and you feel much better, quietly slipping back out the door. Pathfinder follows, waiting for the door to close before speaking.

"I kept the secret!" He pumps his fists a little. You chuckle.

"By not talking at all. I guess it works." You pat him on the arm again. "One left, but I don't know anything about Caustic. I hope he's not as bad as they say."

Pathfinder takes the last bouquet from you and leads the way this time, apparently willing to handle the interaction himself. He knocks on the door and opens it, revealing a growling Caustic on the other side, sitting upright in bed and writing in a notebook. His usual mask is switched for an oxygen mask, and he's in a hospital garb that is far too large for him.

"Greetings, doctor! I brought you flowers!" Pathfinder chirps happily, ignoring Caustic's scowl.

"I don't want flowers. I already had to answer the simulacrum's idiotic questions, why are you bothering me now?" Caustic asks angrily, averting his attention back to his notebook.

"I intentionally got you chamomile flowers, they're Wattson's favorite for tea!" Pathfinder chirps, holding the white and yellow-centered flowers up. Caustic suddenly looks up from his notebook with a softer expression, before sighing and relenting.

"Fine, put them down on the table." His voice and expression have softened, but you're not sure why. Pathfinder must know something you don't.

As Pathfinder moves to put the flowers on his table, you lose your body to hide behind. Caustic notices you, and suddenly smiles a little wickedly.

"Ah, the simulacrum's personal lapdog reveals herself." He sneers. How did he know about you? Did Revenant say something? "You have quite the science project at your beck and call. How did a little thing like you manage that?"

You're not sure how to answer, and you know your discomfort is visible on your face. Pathfinder seems to notice as well.

"You seem to be a kindred spirit, flirting with death. Makes you feel more alive, doesn't it?" He coughs a little, interrupting his train of thought. His voice returns in a much more serious tone. "I'm afraid I can't do anything more for either of you, but I'll keep you in mind if I need to get under the simulacrum's skin."

Pathfinder doesn't speak, but starts walking towards the door, gently herding you in that direction. You leave, unsure of what else to say after that. The door gently closes behind you both.

"Are you okay, friend?" Pathfinder asks.

Now late in the evening, you finally make it back to Revenant's room, bidding Pathfinder goodbye before opening the door. You're holding a single flower you picked out for Revenant, despite Pathfinder's insistence that Revenant doesn't like or accept flowers. He's tested it thoroughly, or so he claims. You're certain this one is different, though. You picked this one for him, and you picked it for a reason. As you slip through the door, Revenant stands up from the computer desk to meet you.

"Yeah, just disturbed, I guess. Let's go, it's getting late. Let me grab dinner and let's go back to your garden." You answer, not sure what Caustic meant. You'd rather spend the rest of the evening chatting about Revenant's different chassis with Pathfinder than dwelling on Caustic's cryptic words.

• • • •

"You must have had fun. You've been gone all day." He notices the flower. "Pathfinder managed to pawn one of his flowers off on you?" He scoffs, rolling his optics.

"Actually, I picked this one for you." You correct him, unsurprised by his initial rejection. He seems to tense at the realization it's a gift from you, not Pathfinder, and that he has already judged it so openly. "It's a datura flower, I thought it was fitting."

"Datura? Like the drug?" He asks, trying to ignore his previous judgement on the flower.

"Yeah, it's called the Devil's Trumpet. It's poisonous if ingested, and causes psychedelic delusions. It's legendary for giving some of the most hellish waking nightmares. Isn't that something you've said about yourself? A nightmare flower for the nightmare Apex Predator!" You finish your short speech, and he carefully takes the flower from you, staring silently at its alluring but deceptive beauty for a few moments in silence.

"Thank you." He finally says, carefully placing the makeshift vase and flower down on the computer desk. "I wanted to talk to you about something while we're at it."

"Is this about what I said earlier? I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything. I wasn't thinking, and--"

"You wanted to die. It's okay. I understand that feeling." He takes your hand and sits you down on the bed as he takes the office chair opposite to you. "I don't want you to die, even though I am certain I will live to see the day anyway." He pauses, gathering the words he wants to say. "If you really find you cannot handle living any longer, I want you to die painlessly in my arms."

You sit there, unable to fully process what he means, or perhaps you're refusing to process it. It's hard to swallow, if your suspicion is right. He lets the pause hang before finally specifying.

"If you truly must die, I want to be the one to take your life." His head hangs, and he refuses to make further eye contact. "It will be painless, you won't be alone, and I can hold you one last time." His pain is apparent.

As soon as the words register in your head, you throw yourself to the floor and kneel under his hunched over body, trying to meet his gaze. He is unmistakably despaired, so you stand into him, hugging him as you do.

"I'm so sorry Revenant, I promise it won't come to that." You're pleading with him to trust you, but you're not sure how to convince him. "I love you, I just want to spend as much time with you as I can. I won't let it come to that."

You're pretty sure you sound desperate, but you're not sure how he'll interpret that. You are desperate to get him back from wherever his mind is. He stays limp in your arms for a few moments--long enough to concern you. His optics are still on, so he's not rebooting. He's just pondering, and somehow that's more worrying than anything.

Finally, Revenant hugs you back, standing up and lifting you off the ground. He brings you to the bed, carefully lying down in it and dragging you into an enveloping hold. He holds you tightly, but with an intensity you haven't felt before. He doesn't speak, just holds you, refusing to let go.

You lay there, unable to move and unwilling to abandon him for what feels like hours, until your consciousness starts to fade. You drift off quickly, unable to deny your exhaustion any further.

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shorkbrian · 4 years

Note

Omg okay uh... Nasty stalker Bakugou breaking in to his darling's home only for them to come home early to see their yandere in their room, laying in their bed. Bakugou's surprised but smug, deciding now's a better time than ever to take them away

Titled “Bakugou coming to terms with the fact he’s a nasty, nasty man.”

Prelude - this is trash. I am trash. I’ve been stuck for a bit with requests and getting motivation to write, but I’m trying to work through it and so we have this. ANEEWAYZ Anon, this is an awesome request and made me p hornee, 10/10

Prompt - at the toP

Pairing - Bakugou X Reader

Warnings - NSFW, non con, cunnilingous. No penetration. Bakugou got a HUGE scent kink lol sorry

Music - no <3

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Bakugou was disgusted with himself.

Here he was, a good looking male, and he was spending his free time breaking into a woman’s apartment for the hundredth time. Is it even considered “breaking and entering” if he had a key? It was a stolen key, and Bakugou knew he would still be thrown into jail if the object of his affections ever found out just how often he chose to “visit” without permission.

Yet he couldn’t stop himself from coming back.

Turning the (stolen) key in the lock, the blonde pushed the door open, glancing towards the neighboring apartment doors before he stepped inside. It would be no good if your neighbors saw him sneaking in - they might ask you about your “new man,” and you’d get suspicious.

Bakugou wiped his shoes on the welcome mat, quietly slipping them off and placing them on the bottom shelf of your shoe rack. He knew it was stupid, but he liked to pretend that he was coming home from work, about to slip into bed with you and feel you in his arms as you kissed him hello. Unfortunately, the reality had you still at work, making and serving fancy coffee at the little cafe you worked in, and Bakugou was nothing more than a creep, fantazing about a woman that had done little more than take his order.

Did you even know he existed? Bakugou thought you might; he did come to the cafe every Wednesday morning, sat in the chair that allowed him to see the staff as they worked. It would be hard to miss his presence, considering the scene he had caused on one of his coffee runs. A man had bumped into you as you were placing Bakugou’s coffee on the table, causing you to spill it everywhere (including on Bakugou’s lap, which had fuckin’ hurt, the liquid being hotter than the surface of the sun). Before you could even take a breath to apologize, Bakugou was on his feet, verbally attacking the man that had stumbled into you.

He really ripped into the stranger, not hesitating to use every insult he knew to demean the man for jostling you. Bakugou knew his personality was abrasive and that he had a short temper, but seeing someone touch you so casually and cause you an unnecessary hardship had him angrier than normal. By the time Bakugou was done yelling, the man was beet red, sweating, apologizing profusely to both Bakugou and you for causing any inconvenience.

The look you had given Bakugou as the man left made his heart squeeze. Your eyes were blazing, fists clenched as you stared the blonde down, mouth set in a way that made your lips jut out in a frown.

“Sir, there was no reason to yell at that poor man. It was an honest mistake that I could’ve easily handled.”

Bakugou was shocked.

“Yeah, a fucking “mistake” alright. Motherfucker didn’t even think to apologize before I said anything.” “I don’t need a white knight. Sit down and leave it be, or else I’ll have no problem kicking you out.”

You had been so bossy and confident, Bakugou reluctantly sat down, grumbling about his burnt junk while you went to grab napkins to clean up the spill.

From then on, the blonde watched you like a hawk, enjoying the way you chewed out rude customers or made crude jokes with your coworkers when you thought no one was listening. He was hooked, baited by your personality into learning more about you. However, he knew that you probably wanted nothing to do with him, knew that you would probably laugh in his face if he asked for your number.

So he resorted to this.

As humiliating as it was, as wrong as he knew it to be, Bakugou enjoyed being in your apartment. Everything smelled like you, he was able to figure out your favorite snacks and dishes, got to see what you liked to read.

The first few times he followed you home from the cafe, he told himself he was doing it for your own safety. You had such a smart mouth, lots of customers had been miffed by the way you called attention to their rudeness. It wouldn’t take much for one of them to follow you home, try to put their hands on you. When it slowly evolved into the man breaking into your apartment, Bakugou told himself that it was just out of curiosity, even though deep down he was aware of a more sinister reason.

Even when the man went looking for your underwear drawer, he denied the action to himself, refused to think about what it meant or think about it for more than a few seconds. He refused to hold himself accountable for his feelings, nor for his actions.

He was swimming in a sea of denial, letting his impulses and desires guide him.

Consequences? That word wasn’t in his vocabulary when it came to his dealings with you.

What could the repercussions be? You were never home when he visited, you never knew he had been there, you never noticed him at work, never even acknowledged his existence. There had been no sign that you were aware of him following you home, following you to the store, following you to the mall. At this point, Bakugou was resigned to the fact that you would probably never notice him.

And if you did, so what? He easily had the means to take you away, keep you from ever revealing his “hobby” to the world (the more the man thought about it, the more the idea appealed).

Consequences be damned, Bakugou Katsuki did what he wanted to.

That’s why he allowed himself to go through your closet, look at your clothes and imagine you wearing them. He looked through your shoes, admiring your choices in fashion. He looked through your bathroom, noting what soaps you used and the skincare that littered the counter, the color of your toothbrush and the perfume that you saved for special occasions.

Bakugou’s favorite thing to do in your apartment was also the most shameful. It had started after a bad day, when he was already frustrated and heated. He had stormed into your apartment, and was too worked up to find the space as calming as it usually was. Bakugou had stomped towards your bedroom, wanted to bury his face in your pillows and breathe in your scent, forget about the stress of life. When he had tripped over the pile of dirty clothes in the doorway, he almost had a fit before realizing that the light blue lace on the top of the pile were your dirty panties.

His brain whispered that it was a good idea, so he acted upon his impulses and snatched them, proceeding to climb onto your bed and jack off.

Now it was a regular occurrence, him rooting through your laundry basket to find your latest pair. You were good about your laundry, so sometimes he had to settle for picking through your underwear drawer, which was notably less satisfying. Bakugou couldn’t figure out why until he thought about it for a second, coming to a riveting conclusion as he pressed your panties close to his face.

He liked the smell of you.

The man didn’t get to think about it further than that, already too worked up to do anything but pull his cock free, press your panties to his face, and fist his cock like it was the last time he’d ever get to touch himself.

Some days he would use your panties to stroke himself, bring himself to orgasm thinking about you and your body and the things he’d like to do to it. Other day’s he’d bunch your panties in his fist and press them against his face while he laid down on your bed, and he’d jerk himself off while taking in your scent.

Recently, he’d taken to spreading your panties on one of your pillows, before burying his nose into the fabric. He’d lay on his stomach and pump his cock, imagining that you were actually there, that his nose was buried in your pussy. Sometimes he’d get so lost in the fantasy that he’d start humping the bed, caught up in the smells assaulting his senses, the sensation of the bedspread dragging along his swollen cock.

Today was one of those days where he was keyed up and just wanted to get off, bask in the cradle of your scent as he did so. So the second he entered your apartment, he was beelining for your bedroom, cock already half-hard in his pants. He was delighted to see that your laundry basket seemed fuller than yesterday, meaning that there was a fresh pair of panties that you had discarded there this morning.

He wanted to pat himself on the back for his observational skills when a quick search brought him anew pair of your dirty panties. As he headed to the bed, unbuckling his belt with one hand, he noticed that these were new, a pale pink fabric that was impossibly softer then your other pairs. Bakugou knew he wouldn’t be long today, felt like he was bursting already. It took hardly any time to get himself situated, the movements easy and familiar after having done this dozens of times already. He let his hips drop to the bed, bringing his hands up to clutch at the pillow he had laid your panties on, imagining it to be the softness of your legs he was burying his fingers into. Bakugou buried his face into the crotch, breathing deeply through his nose as he slowly started to work his hips, the friction on his cock feeling delicious.

Bakugou was so worked up, so immersed in his fantasy that the clattering sound of dropped objects almost made him yelp, the blonde man turning his head to the side to glare at whatever had made the noise. He was so close, wanted to tip over the edge of orgasmic bliss and lie there with his face pressed to your panties for a bit before he had to clean up. How dare your neighbors thump on the wall, cause something to fall while he was busy masturbating on your bed.

His breath stuttered as his eyes settled on your figure, frozen in the doorway.

His hips stopped moving.

You shouldn’t have been home this early.

—— There was a man on your bed.

There was an attractive man on your bed, you noted as he turned his head towards you.

There was an attractive man on your bed, sniffing your panties. You could see the pink fabric strewn across your pillow, right where the man had previously had his face. Had he been… sniffing your underwear?

If you could’ve managed not to drop your phone and keys in shock at seeing a strange man on your bed, you would be able to dial 911 before he could get up. As it stood, you were frozen in shock.

Thankfully, the man was too, doing nothing but blinking and breathing heavily. “Who the fuck are you?” You were always one to speak your mind, but in this situation, you wished you were able to act with more tact. The man blinked at you slowly, reaching his hand underneath him to - “Oh my god, your dick is out.”

“No shit, Sherlock.” His gruff voice responded.

“I don’t know who your are, but you need to get out. Get out now or I’m calling the police.”

The man grunted as he tucked his still-hard dick back into his pants, slowly rising to his knees, moving towards the edge of the bed.

“Hey! I said you need to fucking leave. I’m - I’m gonna - “ You snatched your phone off the floor, watching the man freeze as you held it up. “- call the police. Get out of my apartment.”

“Calm the fuck down, what the fuck d’ya think I’m doing, huh dumbass?” He held his hands up, carefully stepping off your bed. “I gotta move past you to get to the damn door, idiot.” You wanted to smack yourself. The man had a point. He seemed to be gearing to leave, trying to appear non-threatening as he inched towards you and the bedroom door. It occurred to you that you should move to the side so he wouldn’t touch you while he exited your bedroom. You hoped he couldn’t see the way your hand shook holding your phone. You put up a tough front, but that didn’t mean you didn’t feel fear

“Okay, hurry up then.”

The blonde man nodded, lowering his hands as he began walking normally, watching you move to the side of the door.

You tried to memorize his face, make sure you’d be able to describe him to the police later after you were safely alone in your apartment, door locked and reinforced with a chair-

The man tackled you to the floor, his hands wrapping around the back of your head to cushion it against the hardwood. He had taken advantage of your rambling thoughts, using your distracted state to strike when he had slunk closer in the guise of reaching the door.

You acted on instinct, immediately trying to knee the man the second you caught your breath, reaching up to claw at his face. You were in the process of going for his eyes, intending to dig in until he was screaming, but the next thing you knew you were being lifted into the air, given a giant bear hug that trapped your arms against your sides.

“Let me go! Let me go!!” You shrieked, uselessly kicking your legs against his shins. He had you pressed to his chest in a crushing hug, and the angle offered you no leverage to inflict any damage.

“Fuck, knew you were a feisty little shit. You smell so goddamn good.” He had his face buried in your hair, and you could feel the rise of his chest as he inhaled deeply.

You were thrown on the bed, the man immobilizing you by sitting on your abdomen before you had the chance to even sit up. With a gleeful grin, he started pulling at your shirt, ripping it over your head with ease. He ignored your ear-splitting “No!” As he did the same to your bra, his calloused hands warm where they met your skin. You hit at his sides, but he hardly reacted.

Rearranging himself so he was facing your feet, the man began working on your pants, laughing as you kicked and squirmed.

“See, this is why I fuckin’ like you so much. Got so much fight in you, won’t go down without a little bit of work.”

Your pants were removed, then your panties, which you saw the man shove in his pants pocket. It was impossible to stop him when he turned back to your head, taking his own shirt off in the process. No wonder he was hard to fight, he was incredibly ripped, fit in every sense of the word.

The man grabbed your shirt and stuffed it in your mouth, wrapping the sleeves around your head and using them to tie the fabric firmly into a makeshift gag, effectively muffling your cursing.

As you reached up to pull it off, the man manhandled you again. He scooted back and grabbed your arms, placing them under his knees, locking his feet together into a butterfly stretch. He bent your lower half over, your knees almost touching your chest as he scooted closer, lifting your head up so he could lay it gently on his feet.

You were essentially folded in half, the man trapping your arms with his legs, your butt resting against his naked chest, his face above your exposed pussy. No matter how your thrashed or wiggled, you couldn’t break free. The man knew how to completely immobilize someone within seconds, and it scared you to no end.

You were screaming behind the gag, throat starting to hurt as you refused to quit fighting, no matter how futile it was. The man pressed his face down to your pussy, wrapping an arm around your waist to hike you up closer to his face as he inhaled, making you yell profanities behind the gag. What he was doing was gross, scary; blood was starting to rush to your head and you were so tense you thought you might blackout.

Amidst your panicked breathing, you noticed the man had paused, was staring down at you while he himself breathed heavily. You wished he wouldn’t - each breath he exhaled sent a warm puff of air across your pussy, causing your body to involuntarily clench.

“If you’d stop making so much goddamn noise, I might not have to be so rough. I get it though, you don’t know me. ‘M Bakugou.” He offered, red eyes boring into your skull. You seethed, before spitting out a “Fuck you.”. It was muffled, but the man understood your meaning, chuckling darkly. “Yeah yeah, we might get to doing that shit later.”

You yelled, only to gasp as the man suddenly buried his face into your pussy, nose pressing against your clit. He started licking immediately, warm tongue wet and textured against your slit.

It felt good.

You didn’t want it to.

The hand that wasn’t wrapped around your waist was fumbling against your back, between you and Bakugou. You were too focused on what was happening to your cunt to realize that the blonde was taking his dick out again, tenderly massaging the drooling head as he breathed in your pungent scent.

Bakugou was in heaven, lapping at your juices and inhaling your natural musk. He wished he could stay here forever, holding you close as he made the both of you feel good.

He groaned into your pussy, fisting his cock faster as he plunged his warm tongue inside your hole, wiggling the muscle and scraping at your walls. You twitched, your hips trying to rock back to chase the sensation even though your mind was screaming for them to still. Bakugou brought his tongue out, before thrusting is back in, essentially fucking you with his wet tongue.

It was humiliating, terrifying as you watched him, his red eyes slitted and clouded with lust as he drank in your scared whimpers, the man liking when your eyes squeezed shut when he did something with his tongue that you found particularly pleasurable. With a lewd squelch, the man stopped tongue-fucking you, moving to flick at your clit with the muscle, rubbing it back and forth in an agonizingly good motion.

With a muffled wail, you came.

Bakugou sped up the hand around his length, pumping himself furiously as he lapped at you through your orgasm, making you writhe with pleasure. He moaned as he reached his own orgasm, warm cum shooting from his cock to paint your back.

It was only when you started to squirm from oversensitivity did Bakugou stop mouthing at your pussy. He laid his head against your thigh, still huffing and nuzzling at your pussy like a dog trying to scent.

You felt so disgusting.

Trying to kick at Bakugou was useless in this position, especially with how weak you were from orgasming but you still tried your best before his hands gripped your thighs tightly.

“Don’t get fuckin’ testy with me now.” He leaned closer, smiling at you darkly. “You don’t gotta worry, imma fuck you real good before I take your ass home.”

#yandere #yandere bakugo katsuki #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere oneshot #yandere bakugou #yandere bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki #yanderebakugou #bakugou x reader #bakugou #yandere katsuki #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #bnha #tw noncon #i'm so sad #I am a sad human

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fanfics-for-the-hockey-fan · 3 years

Text

A Lie to Love - Nathan MacKinnon

This is for @antoineroussel Summer Fic Exchange. I had the wonderful @broadstbroskis!

I had so much fun writing this fic and reading everyone else's work, I love getting to see so many great writers sharing their work on this site. This is also one of the longest pieces I have written in a very long time, as I was writing this I had a million other fic ideas pop in my head so many those will get written some time soon.

***

I just sat down on my couch, just getting home from work when someone started knocking on my apartment door. I was hoping to ignore it and it would go away, unfortunately they kept knocking. I groaned as I got up, decided how much I was going to curse this person out. “What-” Right behind the door was Nate, giving me a nervous smile.

I had met Nate through his teammate Gabe, I babysat for Gabe and Melissa on a regular basis. Nate showed up one night that I was watching their daughter looking for advice from Melissa. I was able to help him then he hung out with me until Gabe and Melissa came home. Since then I could expect him to show up at my apartment at least once a week for dinner, and we were close friends after I had to save him from a laundry emergency that first night I met him.

“I’m so glad you’re home. I need a huge favor.” Leaving the door open I headed back towards my couch, I knew Nate would follow me and close the door behind him. Once I was sitting on the couch again Nate pulled my legs onto his lap.

“Last time you asked for a favor I ended up with the flu.” Which was true, he had asked me to help out at a learn to skate event that was outside in December. It had been a cold and foggy day, and two days later I was down for the count.

“I brought you soup! And tissues for we left for that road trip.”

“You brought me one box of tissues and two cans of tomato soup.” Nate raised an eyebrow like I had proven his point. I threw a pillow at his head before speaking again. “I’m allergic to tomatoes!”

“Oh, I’m an idiot. Sorry. But I still need a favor.” I really wanted to just say no, ask Nate to leave and go to sleep until I had to go into the office tomorrow. But I knew I was going to say yes before I even found out what he needed. “Please Ruth.”

“What is this favor?”

“I need you to be my fake girlfriend.”

“That was not what I was expecting you to say.” That got a small chuckle out of Nate but he also looked nervous. “Why do you need a fake girlfriend?” Nate was in a ‘single and loving it’ stage of life, he just wanted to play hockey and hang out with his teammates.

“An executive on the team has been talking up his daughter for like the last two years. I’ve been able to brush off the hints he has been throwing at me, luckily she doesn’t live here. Today he came up to me when I was heading out for the day, talking about how his daughter is coming into town and how we should get dinner together so I can get to know her. I thought I could brush it off as a one off dinner, say we there was no connection and then she would be gone. Easy, ya know?”

“Not really. But continue.”

“Apparently this isn’t just a visit for her, she is moving here. And going to work for the team on the social media team.”

“That must have ruined your plan.” Nate nodded and I knew I was going to agree to his crazy plan. “So how did all this lead to me needing to be your fake girlfriend?”

“I panicked and said I had a girlfriend.”

“And I’m the only girl you hang out with that isn’t related to you or in a relationship with a teammate.”

“You are also one of my best friends and the one person I trust every part of my life with. I know this is a lot to ask, I know this is bigger than asking you to help with a skating event. This is a change to every part of your life, and lying to a lot of people.”

“I’ll do it.” Nate’s jaw actually dropped like he couldn’t believe I was agreeing to do it. “Just tell me what you need me to do.”

“Thank you, thank you so much. I know this is a huge ask, I really do.”

“Before we talk about details, I need food and wine. Not necessarily in that order.” I ordered food and pulled out the biggest wine glass I had. As we waited for the food, we came up with a plan and story to tell everyone. We decided to stick with the cliche story of best friends who decided to fall for each other.

“Um, what about kissing? And other PDA?” Nate’s cheeks flushed as he asked the question and I knew it wasn’t from the wine. “I don’t want to do anything you are uncomfortable with.”

“Let’s just start with hand holding and that kind of stuff.”

“Yeah, okay. That sounds good.” Our food was delivered then, Nate going to the door and coming back with the bags of food.

“How much do I owe you?”

“Don’t worry about it, you can think about it like this is our first date.” I nod and start eating once we decided on something to watch. This felt normal for us, eating take out and watching whatever hockey game Nate was able to find. After we finished eating Nate helped me clean everything up before he got ready to leave. I walked him to the door, hugging him tightly as he let out a sigh of relief. “I don’t think I will ever be able to repay you for doing this. Thank you so much.”

“Don’t worry about it Nate, I’ll always be there when you need me.” I closed the door behind him, hoping that I wouldn’t regret agreeing to fake date my best friend.

Nate’s pov

I had been ignoring my phone since I pulled into the parking lot at Ruth’s apartment building, knowing that asking Ruth to do this would make or break our friendship. When I left her apartment I was hopeful that this wouldn’t be the end of our friendship. But I also knew it was only going to make my feelings for her grow. I realized within a month of knowing Ruth that I had feelings for her, and I had almost told her a dozen times a year since then.

I checked my phone when I got home, I had four missed phone calls from my captain and nearly a dozen texts. I skipped over looking at all the messages and just called him. “Nate, why did I hear you say that you are dating someone? Mel has been questioning me since this afternoon because she heard you say to someone that you are in a relationship. She is pissed that I didn’t tell her about it. Which is hard to do considering I had no clue.”

Before I could answer I heard Mel’s voice. “MacKinnon, you better tell me who you are dating.”

“Uh, Ruth-” There was a loud squeal on the other end of the call and then I heard Landy trying to shush his wife.

“When were you going to tell us this?” Gabe asked after it got quiet. I wanted to tell them the truth, we had talked about it. We eventually decided that we wouldn’t tell them the truth because Gabe was the worst gossiper on the team.

“It’s only been about a month, we wanted to make sure this was going to work before we shared it with anyone. We wanted to wait even longer but one of the executives was trying to set me up with his daughter.”

“Alright. I guess that is enough information from now. We can always ask more questions at that fundraiser on Friday night.”

“Oh shit.” That caused Gabe to laugh at me.

“You didn’t tell her about that yet?”

“No, we weren’t going public yet so I figured that I would just go by myself. But I guess I need to tell her about that now and see if she is willing to come with me.”

“That is a big first outing, good luck with that buddy.” Gabe hung up and I knew that I needed to tell Ruth about Friday but when I left she had mentioned she was going to crash as soon as I left. I figured I should go to bed now and deal with everything tomorrow.

***

I was getting ready to knock on Ruth’s door when it flew open and Ruth was standing there looking shocked. “Nate! What are you doing here?” Her eyes then looked at the coffee cup I was holding, one that I had brought for her. “Oh, what’s wrong?”

“What do you mean?”

“You only ever bring me my favorite coffee order when you have bad news.”

“I-Landy reminded me last night that we have a black tie fundraiser on Friday night.”

“And now that our supposed relationship is public, you are expected to bring your girlfriend with you.”

“Yeah. I am sorry, I never meant to make your life this complicated.” Ruth took the coffee from me, taking a sip before locking her door.

“I know what I signed up for Nate. I need to get to work, walk with me to my car.” I followed her through the hall of her apartment, waiting for her to yell at me. “What is this fundraiser for? And what kind of dress do I need?”

“It’s for the children’s hospital. We do it every year, they book a huge ballroom and it’s a lot of rich people. The Avs don’t run this fundraiser but all the sports teams in town donate a bunch of stuff to them to auction off and the team likes us to go so the people are more willing to open their wallets.”

“And yet that doesn’t tell me what kind of dress I need, or what time this thing is. Or any of the other million things I need to know to get ready for this thing.”

“I’m not sure about any of this, every year I go by myself. I can have Mel call you?”

“That sounds good. I have to go now, I have a project that was assigned to me yesterday that is way behind schedule. So thank you for the coffee and I’ll see you later.” I watched as she got into her car and drove away.

Ruth’s pov

By the time lunch came around I was buried under a pile of work, I hoped that if I could work through lunch and stay a little late every day this week that I would be caught up by the end of the week so I could focus on the lie at this fundraiser. So when I saw that Melissa was calling me I knew my plan was about to be derailed. “Hey Melissa.”

“I am going to ignore the fact that you didn’t tell me about you and Nate. And I am also going to save all of my questions for later, Nate told me that you need a dress for Friday. I can be at your office in 10 minutes, we can go shopping during your lunch hour.”

“I am so behind on a project that was just given to me this morning and it was already so far behind because the guy who was incharge of it before me was an idiot. I don’t have time to take a lunch break this week.”

“But Nate gave me his card to buy your dress with.” I knew I would regret what I was about to say but I didn’t have another option.

“If I tell you what size I wear, can you just get me something?”

“Absolutely!”

“Thank you. As much fun as I think shopping with you would be, I just can’t leave right now.”

“I get it. Send me a text with your sizes and I’ll find you the perfect dress.”

“Because my brain is a mess right now, I wasn’t supposed to babysit on Friday right?”

“No, my parents are in town this week. They are watching the kids. There is no way you are getting out of this event.” A part of me was hoping that I would have that as an excuse to not go but with that option gone I started to mentally prepare myself for Friday night.

***

“Thank you for letting me get ready here.” I said to Nate as he let me into his house. “And thank you for letting me crash here tonight.”

“Of course, it makes more sense this way. I also have your dress, Mel wouldn’t let me look at it when she dropped it off on Tuesday. I figured you can use my room to get ready, it has more counter space for whatever you need.”

“I’m not kicking you out of your bedroom and bathroom.”

“It’s not kicking me out when I volunteer to use the guest room. C’mon, let me carry your bag.”

“How long until we need to leave?”

“I have an Uber scheduled for 75 minutes from now.” I nod, knowing that I could make that work without having to rush too much. Once Nate headed into the guest room I started to unpack what I would need for now. Grabbing a towel before going to figure out the shower, which was far more high tech than anything I had ever seen in a shower before. I wrapped the towel around myself and went to find Nate. “Nate?! How do I work your futuristic shower?” I only stuck my head out in the hall to yell and luckily he heard me from the guest room he was in. A few seconds later he came out in only a loose pair of shorts, laughing at me. “Don’t laugh at me, your shower has a computer screen!” I opened the bedroom door so he could come in, watching his eyes widen when I saw I was only wearing a towel. As he came in to turn the shower on for me I took the time to look over him. When he turned to show me how to change the temperature and turn it off I knew he caught me checking him out. Nate was such a beautiful person, inside and out. I knew that fake dating Nate had the potential for my true feelings to come out and I was trying to convince myself that this wouldn’t end with the death of our friendship.

“Need anything else?”

“Nope.”

Nate’s pov

It took every ounce of willpower to not kiss Ruth when I saw her standing in my bedroom in just a towel, and then when I caught her checking me out I was really tempted to tell her the truth. I knew that this fake dating would just cause more pain for me but there was nothing I could do about that now. I took a colder shower than I had originally been planning to take but after that was done I got my suit on, just a dark grey suit so that hopefully I wouldn’t clash with whatever Ruth was wearing.

Just as I finished getting my shoes on there was a knock on my door. I opened it and was immediately speechless. The deep green dress looked amazing on her and I am pretty sure that my jaw was on the floor. As she moved in the dress I saw the large slit on the one side that showed a lot of her leg. “Can you zip my dress?”

“Y-yeah.” Ruth turned so her back was to me, pulling her hair to the side so I could tug up the zipper before whispering. “Perfect.”

“I should be ready in just a few minutes.”

“Yeah, I just need to come grab a tie. I wanted to wait until I saw what color your dress was.” Ruth nodded as we both heard into my bedroom, I headed straight for my closet and by the time I came out with my tie on Ruth was standing at the end of my bed smiling. “You look amazing.”

“You do too.” I walked over to Ruth, both of us looking at our reflection in the mirror. “We make a good looking couple.”

“I don’t think I can do this.” I froze after those words came out of my mouth, Ruth looking at me with wide eyes.

“O-okay, um, I’ll go grab my stuff and get out of your hair.” Ruth went to turn and walk away from me, but I gently turned her around so I could tell her the truth.

“No, that’s not what I meant.” I cupped Ruth’s cheek, locking eyes with her. “I have had feelings for you for so long. Probably since a month after I met you but I was scared to tell you. And then we became friends and I didn’t want to make things weird, so I kept it a secret. But I also fell for you more as we became closer friends. So I think a part of me decided to say I was dating someone because I want to be dating you. For real.” Ruth didn’t say anything, just took a step closer and pressed her lips to mine. “I, what just happened?”

“Everything you just told me, I feel the same way.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Now kiss me for real.” That I could do, I kissed Ruth like I had wanted to do for years. We only stopped kissing when a car horn sounded in my driveway. “I think I need to fix my lipstick.”

“I would say sorry but I’m not. I’ll go to the car if you want to fix your lipstick.” Ruth nodded, stepping back while smiling at me. “Just so you know, this isn’t our first date. I will be planning that for next week and it is going to knock your socks off.”

“As long as you are there, I can’t wait.” I kissed Ruth one more time before healing downstairs to tell the driver we were almost ready. I also couldn’t keep the smile off of my face, I couldn’t believe what started out as a panicked lie turned into a chance to date my best friend for real.

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fuck-customers · 3 years

Text

This is a long one. Sorry. I have a lot to say.

I submitted a post yesterday (7/29) with pictures of a massive pile of boxes that showed up at my store yesterday. (It took the OOPS delivery worker five trips to bring it all in. The most they've ever needed to make before is two.) It is far and away the largest receipt we've ever done, clocking in at 24 boxes (not small ones, mind you, but the red ones and the long rectangular ones in the pictures on that post; the other, smaller boxes are from other suppliers) and it is nearly 1800 items by itself. It nearly doubles its next closest competitor (about 970 items, from the same supplier). I entered it into the computer from the invoice myself last week, before it arrived, and it took me over three hours.

Because this shipment was so large, and because this supplier's products always take a while to receive due to sheer volume and size, and because there's only ever one person working at my location at a time (we are literally always understaffed), I volunteered to come in three hours early (meaning I'd be working 8 hours instead of my usual five, because even though we're hiring and I've asked repeatedly, I can't seem to get any more hours) to help process it all. Simple enough, right? I didn't want my poor coworker to be overwhelmed -- god knows I was.

To her credit, my boss did put some of the boxes (the big, long, plain cardboard ones contained display stands, which don't need to be received but do need to be assembled later) into her car, and had another coworker put some into his, so it was a bit less crowded. Only a bit, though. When the boxes first arrived, I got blocked in behind the counter and had to figure out how to clear a path so I could, you know, leave.

Anyway, I come in at 11, we work our asses off until 1:30, when I'm required to take my lunch because my coworker leaves at 2 and obviously someone has to be watching the store. (Our boss came by to put change in the register while I was gone, but did not choose to stay to help even though the workload was obviously overwhelming, even at a glance.) I come back, my coworker leaves, and I keep working. Simple enough, in theory. Absolute hell to actually do, but simple enough.

Around 5 PM more boxes come in. Not from the same company as the 24 box shipment, but from other suppliers. I sigh because there's nothing I can do until I deal with this record-breaking shipment. But the problem is that some of the boxes are blocking some of the shelves, and certain sections are just straight-up unreachable. I did manage to keep the wheelchair-accessible counter clear, thankfully (having it blocked is an ADA violation and generally a dick move) but you couldn't even hope to grab anything from the bottom shelves of the sections near it, and you'd have to approach from the only open side if you wanted to actually use the wheelchair-accessible counter.

It occurs to me at about 6 -- by this point I've gone hoarse because the building I work in is pretty loud and I have to scream half the time so customers can hear me properly -- that my boss could take some of these boxes I haven't had time to deal with over to our other store, either for storage or to have them process them there. So I sent a message asking if that was possible, and I included a photo of the way the boxes are blocking things off.

She essentially said that she could take some of the huge shipment to the other store for storage and bring it back bit by bit to make more space, but allllll those other boxes (the ones that aren't red) still have to be received at my location. Where there is only ever one employee working at a time, because even in situations like this, where the workload is literally impossible for one person to handle, we are STILL understaffed.

After that, my boss sent out a message to the company-wide group chat (it's not a very large company) saying that all locations have slowed down this week and we really need to make sure we're making the store look nice. Which really felt like an extra "fuck you" for not magically being able to sort and take care of nearly 1800 items in, like, a day.

This is far from the first time I've had issues with management. As I said, we're always understaffed at my location -- to the point that I once came into work completely unable to speak (not contagious) because I knew if I didn't, someone else would have to show up on their day off or there would be no one to open the store -- I can't get more hours even though we're hiring new people, my paychecks are regularly late in one way or another (I've sent in anon rants before about this), and this is just the cherry on top of the shit sundae. Because they knew when this receipt was coming. They knew how big it was. They knew it was going to be a lot of work. But they either didn't think to, or actively chose not to, schedule more people or help out in any other way to make things more manageable. The only reason my coworker and I were able to work together on this today and make more progress than we would have alone, is because I SUGGESTED IT.

And I loved working here for a long time. I gave a lot to this company. I've worked weekends since I started, I worked Easter, Halloween, Fourth of July, Black Friday, Christmas Eve, and my birthday. I've always tried to go above and beyond to make things as nice and as easy on everyone else as I could. But if this is how they're going to treat me, I'm out. As soon as I find a new job with more hours, I'm putting in my two-weeks. I deserve better than this shit.

So, on that note, does anyone have any advice for job-hunting? If I'm honest, this one kinda fell into my lap, and before that I was having exactly no success.

#submissions #cashier problems #fuck retail #fuck managers #long post

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justthehiddleswrites · 3 years

Text

Accidently Married | Tom Hiddleston x OFC | Chapter 4 | You should worry about the people you care about. I mean, I worry about you all the time.

A/N: Tom makes certain comments about an ex (who is unnamed). It is a fictional girlfriend, take from it what you will. Keep your hate to yourself.

SERIES MASTERLIST HERE

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Molly Bishop)

Summary: Tom is stuck in a news cycle from hell; Molly is stuck in the dead end job of bartending with a pile of student and credit debt. Tom has an idea to solve all their problems. Get married, get the paparazzi off his back, divorce after a year and Tom pays off Molly’s debts. Tom has everything figured out, that is until he sees Molly as more than a just a friend and so does someone else. In this vying for affections who will win, the handsome Brit or the boy from Boston?

This Chapter: Molly is making friends and life is settling into a routine until Molly gets sick and Tom takes care of her.

Warnings: fake marriage, smut (vaginal sex), mentions of: child abuse/neglect, foster care, substance abuse, cheating.

TAGLIST IS OPEN! PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED! THANK YOU FOR READING!

–

Molly left that afternoon with two new numbers in her phone and a lunch date for next week.

“Can’t believe you are having lunch with my mother and sister without me.” Tom pouted on the way back.

“Once they heard I wasn’t working and didn’t know anyone, they insisted. Was I supposed to say no?”

“You could have scheduled it when I could come.”

“But you are so busy. And talented.” She poked his side.

“I’m driving here, darling.”

“Sorry, but just one question…” They pulled up to a red light.”

“What?”

“Are you ticklish?” she attacked his side and Tom squirmed and giggled.

“You will be the death of me.” He panted as Molly stopped when the light was green.

“Note to self. Tom is very ticklish.”

“No, no notes to self. That is something you can promptly forget.”

Molly batted her eyelashes. “But real husbands and wives would know these things about each other. We have to pull this off for an entire year, right?”

“Fine, but expect revenge.” Tom wagged a finger at Molly.

“I’ll sleep with one eye open.”

Over the next several weeks, Tom and Molly fell in a routine. The marriage certificate came in the mail and they applied for a family visa for Molly to stay there.

“I didn’t think you would want to become a citizen.”

Molly smirked. “No, not right now.”

A new debit card came in for Molly.

“With great power…” Tom handed it over.

“Yeah, yeah, Loki.” she tucked into her wallet. “I am burdened with glorious purpose. To keep you well fed.”

Molly had a standing date with Emma every two weeks, much to Tom’s consternation. They continued running together in the mornings. Tom, more often than not, ended it with a kiss.

“This is becoming quite the nasty habit, Mr. Hiddleston.” she commented one morning.

“Then stop me, Mrs. Hiddleston.” He pecked her lips again.

Molly blushed. “You just love what they are saying about us in the papers.” She pushed Tom away and towards the door.

“I will admit the good news is definitely a perk. Plus, you are such lovely company.” He went to hug her, but she pushed him away.

“You are all sweaty, Tom. Take a shower and I will make breakfast.”

“French toast?” he asked hopefully.

“You ate the last of the bread yesterday.”

“Pancakes?”

“I think I can swing pancakes, if…” She held up a finger. “You also eat a side of fruit.”

“Deal.” Tom headed towards his room wearing a huge grin.

Molly shook her head as she grabbed a mixing bowl out. “Lunatic.”

One morning, Molly wasn’t awake when Tom got up to run. She almost always beat Tom up, sipping a cup of tea in the living room, reading a magazine or one of the books from his shelf. There was a small stack building on a side table of the ones she finished reading. But that morning, no half-drunk cup of tea perched precariously on the coffee table. No crossword puzzle half done in pen.

Tom peaked into Molly’s bedroom. The covers, in colors of navy and grey, just like his, pulled up tight around her. There were a few prints of classic travel posters on the wall.

“Molly, darling.” He called out. Usually that was all it took to roust Molly from her sleep and get her going for the day. Today, nothing. Tom stepped into the room. He felt like an intruder in his own home.

“It’s time for our run, love.” He said a bit louder this time.

Molly rolled over, groaning and coughing. Tom’s brow furrowed. He didn’t like the sound of that cough. Tom sat down on the edge of the bed and rocked Molly gently by the shoulder.

“Are you feeling okay, darling?” He hoped it was just allergies or waking up in the morning. But then she woke up.

“Uggh, Tom?” Molly croaked out before rolling onto her back. She was pale. So much more pale than usual. She coughed again, covering her mouth.

“It’s me, Molly. Are you feeling alright?” He repeated. “That’s some cough.”

“I’m fine, fine. It’s just,” She waved him off and pushed up to sitting, only to fall back onto the pillows. “oh, that’s not good.”

Tom placed the back of his hand to her forehead and replaced it with his lips, checking her temperature. She was running hot.

“You have a fever. I’m making you an appointment to see the doctor.” He stood, but Molly caught his wrist. Her palm clammy against Tom’s skin.

“No! It’s just a cold. Go on your run. I’ll be fine. I just need some sleep.” She insisted.

“Are you sure? It’s no trouble.”

“Go. I’ll be fine.”

Tom leaned down and kissed her very warm forehead. “I’ll keep it short. Go back to sleep.”

Molly nodded and rolled over. Tom tucked the covers around her and headed out. He barely made it to the end of the street before he returned home. It confirmed his fears when he stepped back inside and heard Molly coughing. Tom grabbed the phone and searched for a number and called it.

“Yes, Urgent Care? Do you have any appointments today? Name? Molly Hiddleston. Thank you.”

Tom helped Molly get dressed, averting his eyes when appropriate. Her entire body burned under his fingertips, but Tom noticed her shivering. She stumbled to the car where she slept the entire ride over to urgent care. Tom did his best to fill out the paperwork.

“What do you put for family history?”

“Nothing. Unless there is a place for mental illness, then check that. That’s all I know about. Mom didn’t chat much.” Molly muttered, leaning heavily against Tom. “Meth does that…” Her brow furrowed and she coughed again.

“Shh, darling.” Tom soothed her. “Only happy thoughts.”

Molly hummed and smiled. “Happy thoughts.” More coughing.

It took twenty minutes before they called Molly back. They didn’t let Tom back with her. He alternated between sitting with a bouncing knee, pretending to read on his phone and pacing the waiting room, making the other people nervous. After forty-five minutes, before Molly returned with several papers in her hand. She coughed again.

“Upper respiratory infection,” cough. “Along with a sinus infection and a viral infection.”

Tom smiled. “Triple threat. Let’s get you home.”

Molly’s hand, holding the papers, flopped up. “I have prescriptions and they want to see me again in two weeks. To make sure I don’t get pneumonia.”

Tom’s eyes widened. “That’s a possibility?”

Molly nodded. “It’s all in here.”

Tom took all the papers, skimming them, including a script for antibiotics as well as a cough suppressant. It all sounded grim. “Let’s get you to bed and I will take care of getting these filled.”

Molly coughed and nodded. “Thank you.”

She fell back asleep in the car. Tom carried into the house, not having the heart to wake her up again, and settled her into his bed, which was bigger, more comfortable and the bathroom was right there. Once she was settled and asleep, he headed off to the pharmacy. While waiting in line, Tom dialed Luke.

“Luke, is there anything absolutely pressing in the schedule for the next three days?” he asked after Luke picked up.

“Nothing I can’t reschedule, why?”

“Molly’s ill.” He bit his lips and sighed. “The doctors are afraid it might turn into pneumonia. And I…”

“Consider your schedule cleared until Monday. And tell her I hope she feels better soon.”

“Thanks, Luke. I’m worried about her.”

“That’s because you love her, Tom. You should worry about the people you care about. I mean, I worry about you all the time.” Luke chuckled.

Tom paused at Luke’s words but pushed it away. Of course he cared for Molly. That has the tendency to happen when you live with a person for nearly three months. Especially someone as congenial as Molly. Congenial wasn’t the word. Lovely. Molly was lovely. He laughed it off. “I worry about you too, Luke. I got to go.”

“Take care of her. Bye, Tom.”

After picking you the medicine, Tom popped into the grocery store and picked up some soup, drinks, and Molly’s favorite cookies. When he got back, she was still asleep. And still coughing. He put away the groceries and then checked on her.

“Darling, I’m back with the medicine. Time to take it.” He helped her sit up, Molly groaning the entire time. She swallowed the pill with a sip of water, gagging.

“That’s awful!” she coughed.

“Now the cough medicine.” Tom poured out the cough syrup and handed it over to Molly. She hesitated, sniffing it first. “Take the medicine and get a biscuit.” He held up a package of cookies.

“They’re cookies. I thought I ate the last of them.” she moaned, downing the cough syrup. Her face contorted. Tom smiled and handed her two cookies. “Good girl. Now rest. I’ll check on you in a few hours.”

“Don’t you have work?” Molly muttered as she laid back down. Tom pulled the covers over her, putting the cookies on the nightstand. “You had… interviews… or something…”

“My schedule is clear through the weekend. I am at your disposal.” Tom rubbed Molly’s back, and she purred.

“You don’t need to do that.” She half-heartedly complained, dozing off.

“And leave you to fend for yourself? What kind of husband would I be? It was no trouble. Now sleep, darling.”

“Mmm… kay.”

Tom busied himself with absolutely nothing. He flitted from reading a book to watching a TV show to peeking into the bedroom. At one point, when Molly was particularly quiet, he seriously contemplated putting a mirror under her nose to just make sure he was still breathing. He managed to get her to eat half a bowl of soup.

“You need to eat, love.” he scolded.

Molly coughed and croaked. “Says the man who considers chocolate a food group.”

“Look at that, some humour.” Tom smiled. “Eat please.”

“Yes, sir.” She slurped the soup off the spoon before falling back asleep.

Tom, worried, did the unthinkable. He called his mum for advice.

“She’s coughing. A lot. And all she does is sleep.” Tom ran his hands through his hair.

“Is she eating, love?” Diana asked. Tom could feel the smile across the phone.

“A bit, but not as much as usual. I brought her soup.”

“Soup is good. And she is taking her medicine?”

Tom nodded. “I set a timer.”

“Of course you did. And the fever?”

Tom blinked. “What about her fever?”

“Has it broken?”

“I don’t—”

“Tom!” Molly’s bedraggled voice called out.

“I gotta go. She needs me.” Tom hung up the phone and sprinted to the room.

“Molly! What is it?” He noted she was shivering.

“I’m cold.” she chattered. Tom grabbed the blanket at the foot of his bed.

“Is that better?” He tucked it under Molly’s chin. Tom touched her forehead. Hot.

“Much.”

“I’ll let you rest.” He patted her shoulder and stood. Molly reached out for him.

“Stay.” She coughed. “At least until I fall asleep. Please lie down. Just five minutes.”

Tom’s heart broke in that moment for Molly. That confident woman he grew so fond of seemed so small in that moment.

“Of course, I’ll stay. Anything for you.” Tom crawled on top of the covers next to Molly. He laced his fingers in hers. He heard her exhaled, and he exhaled too.

“Sleep well, darling.” But Molly had already fallen asleep. Tom soon followed.

Molly woke the next morning in sweat soaked pajamas and on top of drenched sheets. She still coughed, but her fever was gone. As she blinked her eyes open, Molly realized she wasn’t in her bed, but Tom’s. And Tom was there too. Asleep next to her, fully dressed, holding her hand. She had vague memories of Tom bringing her soup and her asking him to stay. And some very not safe for work dreams.

“Fever dreams.” she muttered. “Tom…” Molly rocked his shoulder.

“Huh?” Tom sat up. “I guess I was more tired than I thought.”

“It’s hard to be a nurse. I think your sheets may need washing.” she smiled.

Tom pressed his lips to her forehead. “No fever.” His spirits lifted.

“It must have broken last night.”

“Feeling better?” he asked.

“Yes.”

Tom noticed their hands still laced together. He let go and stood up. He made a poor attempt at smoothing out his sleep wrinkled clothes. “Up to move to the couch? And maybe some movies?”

“I would like that.” She slowly sat up and got out of bed. “But first a shower.”

Tom frowned. “First medicine, then shower.”

“Nurse Ratched.” Tom didn’t smile or budge. Molly sighed. “Fine, medicine, the shower.”

Tom grabbed the bottles and dispensed the medicine, which she took still gagging. “And a biscuit.” He handed her a cookie.

“Cookie.” She popped it into her mouth and headed off to her room and Tom went to his own bathroom.

Once they were both showered and dressed, Tom popped his sheets into the laundry and made a makeshift bed on the couch for Molly.

“You pick the movie.” she offered. “That way if I fall asleep, you won’t be bored.”

Tom picked The Jungle Book. “One of my favorites as a child. I still watch it when I feel under the weather.”

“I don’t think I have seen it.”

Tom’s mouth fell open. “That is a travesty.”

Molly shrugged her shoulders. “You know, group homes, foster care…”

Tom stopped. “Well, we are going to watch this right now and you can listen to the vocal genius that is George Sanders as Shere Khan.”

“More of a vocal genius than you?” Molly raised an eyebrow while she settled onto the couch.

Tom blushed. “A man-cub, how delightful.” He purred deep in his chest, sending shivers through Molly.

By the end of the movie, Molly’s head was in Tom’s lap and his hand in hers. They watched Disney movies for the rest of day, alternating picking the title. Tom made sure she took her meds on time and ate more than just cookies.

“I will eat a meal if you do.” Molly chided.

They both ate soup and Tom also ate a sandwich. It was late when they finished up Robin Hood. Molly stretched and sat up.

“I should go to bed.”

“I can put the sheets back on the bed.” Tom moved, but she stopped him, squeezing his hand.

“My bed. But I will keep the door open so you can spy on me.” She smirked. “I can’t take your bed again.”

“It’s fine if you did. I don’t mind sharing.”

“I know but…” She glanced away. “We should keep our own space. To keep things from getting complicated.”

Tom nodded. “Right. No complications here.” he lied to her and to himself.

Molly hugged Tom tight. “Thank you for everything, Tom.”

“My pleasure.”

She coughed a bit as she headed off to her room. Tom turned off the TV and cleaned the dishes before going to bed himself. He spent most of the night tossing and turning.

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston x ofc #accidently married

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