#and I lost about two and a half hours of progress | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lilacgaby · 8 months ago

Text

˗ˏˋdon't ask what are we, i like it baby.𖤐

pairing: situationship!gojo x reader

synopsisꨄ. the affection shared between you not only in public but private made everyone think you were together, but the one time they were right about your 'relationship', it made satoru upset. maybe he should make you official.

you honestly couldn't pick out when this started with satoru.

the gravitational pull towards each other, fleeting touches of the hand and the fluttering of eyelashes. the hand holding and kisses, laughing at his jokes even though they weren't always that funny.

finding comfort in each other, even though you really shouldn't grant him your presence. you always did though, open arms or a lap for him to lay on, a person for him to confide in. but even as he kissed you, tucking your hair behind your ear as words were lost to the pumping of your heart in your ears, it'd never progressed further.

no dates were in your future, no promise ring or flowers, no way you'd ever be able to call the satoru gojo yours in the near future.

but that didn't mean he didn't act like you were already his. like he wasn't entitled to your affection and love. as you scrolled on your phone mindlessly in the hallways, he wrapped his arms around you shamelessly. making people raise their eyebrows in confusion as he spoke directly into your ear, asking you what you were doing, where you were going, if you wanted to do things with him.

how he'd walk you to the dorms everyday, walk in like he owned the place as he laid down right smack middle of your bed. patting the side next to him as if it was only natural for you to be beside him so intimately.

how he'd skip out on hang outs with his friends just to come bother you at night, knocking on your door with sweets in hand, smiling at your half asleep self. “got room for one more?” he leant against the doorframe, he knew you'd let him in.

“weren't you hanging out with geto and shoko?” you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, as he responded while walking in and closing the door behind him. “yeah, wanted to be next to you though.” his face leaned close to yours, you could smell his expensive perfume as he laid his head in your shoulder.

he didn't leave that night.

how he spoke to you so sweetly, so deeply intrigued with you. as he stared as your face, eyes not leaving it as you spoke. “and.. um– what happened was…” he'd moved closer and tilt your head up with his hand. “go on, i was listening.”

the late night talks that always lead to more, your lipstick smudged and smeared against his lips as you grew obsessed with each other.

conversations would take place in the car, his eyes would hyper focus on your lips, you were just trying to speak but it always ended with you two breathless, conversations forgotten.

he didn't feel okay if you weren't right by his side, or if he didn't know your whereabouts. it was like having a clingy boyfriend who texted you every hour, asking where you'd be and if you were okay. though, despite this it wasn't anything more than a friendship.

he always felt truly happy around you. more than a weapon, more than the strongest sorcerer you saw him as him and nothing more. you held him as if you were just two normal people in love, he'd hold back as if your love was fleeting, not timeless but limited. he'd hold on for as long as you'd let him, which usually was until morning.

any conversations you tried to have about your relationship, asking if this was serious or not was quickly played or brushed off, your heart cracking slightly everytime he ignored you. the times you did manage to get a response out of him were full of, “what we have now is perfect, why ruin it?” and “labels are no fun anyways, you're fine aren't you?” you'd kick him out of your dorm, or leave where ever you were at when he said that. but you always ended up back with him again, running his hands through your hair the next day. he'd text you throughout the night, spouting apologies and promises mixed in with stupid emojis. you'd resist the urge to respond for a while, but you gave in. you always did for him.

he who held your heart in his hands, who chose to love and neglect it all within the same hour even, who you'd let continue being in control. honestly, you didn't know why yourself.

your relationship, or whatever you had going on, had just become so obvious to everyone around. people had started questioning you about it, shoko being the first to ask you so directly though. during a random hangout of yours, lazing around as you mindlessly scrolled on your phone, attention drawn elsewhere, she just came out with it. “so, are you two dating or something?” it was obvious who she was referring to, there was no one else who was so outwardly forward with you. but you rushed to correct her, even though it was something you thought about often yourself. “what? me and satoru are just friends, that's all.”

a moment passes over, her eyes locking into yours. “but you want more don't you? it's kind of cruel of him to be doing that to you actually.”

“you have no idea.”

little did you know, gojo was undergoing a similar conversation with geto, who eyed him and shot a knowingly look at him. “so, you and [name] aren't dating right?”

satoru was caught off guard by the comment as well, but he quickly recovered and went to make a joke about it. “what? no way. we're just friends.”

a thoughtful look came over geto’s face as he looked over gojo again. “then, you have no problem with me asking her out, right?”

the look that came over satoru was almost laughable, how his eyes widened and lips snarled into a scowl. how his fists balled up and his finger pressed against geto’s chest as he let out an angry, “no.”

“why not?” a dumb smile came over geto’s face. now mirroring his previous actions to shove a finger against his chest. “you know why.” satoru grabbed his hand and yanked it away from him, then walked off angrily, a puff of smoke almost being visible above his head.

geto could only laugh at how hopeless he was, and he'd be right.

you were still hanging around with shoko, outside and picking apart the clouds in the sky. though, you were cut off by a slightly annoyed satoru gently grabbing your hand. “come with me.” was all he said before he pulled you up with him, you waving bye frantically to shoko as he basically pulled you along, his longer strides being hard to keep up with.

he took you further outside than you were, surrounded by trees as he looked you up and down. you were just so pretty, so understanding, his voice was getting caught in his chest.

“satoru?” your voice snapped him out of his lovesick trance, his hands found yours and gripped them tightly, entangling the fingers within yours. he took a steady, deep breath, his hair was being blown back by the wind as his blue eyes finally landed onto yours again.

“[name].” he started, his heart already racing at the fact that your attention was all on him. “i– i should've done this a long time ago.”

your head tilted to the side, pulse quickening to match his, you bit your lip as you pondered over exactly what he meant, but he continued. “you– you're special to me. the things i do– we do- are special to me. the thought of you kissing, or being with anyone else,” his grip on your hands tightened impossibly, “it.. it upsets me.”

“i know it was wrong, wrong of me to expect you to wait around. to expect you to just be available for me whenever i wanted. but.. i– i just couldn't voice my feelings for you. you're like a safe place for me, a safe haven i could go to.”

he took another deep breath, having to look away from you for a moment. “i want to be that for you. i don't want someone else to come and take you away, i want to be as special to you as you are to me. no matter how selfish that makes me.”

he pressed his forehead against yours, his eyes closed as if awaiting rejection. “so, be mine. and i'll be yours. please.” his hands shook in your wake as he waited, hearing the gasp you let out from under your lips. he wasn't sure if it was from his proximity, from his question, or from something else but all he knew is that you let go of his hands.

his heart sunk to the bottom of his stomach, eyes widened and teary as he looked at you, but his words were cut off by the feeling of your hands on his face. of the sight of your teary eyes that matched him. “of course, dummy.” with a kiss that felt as if it was your first, you sealed your promise. he couldn't help the smile that played over his mouth as he kissed you, couldn't help himself from falling back into your embrace.

he couldn't help but realize that you held his heart in your hand, how you cared for it and made him feel alive. that scared him, scared him so bad that he'd willingly played with your heart in the process.

but as you two laid on the grass, pointing out shapes in the sky together as usual, seeing you in the sun as a heart-shaped cloud came out at the perfect time,

he knew he did right by you, finally.

he kissed you again, bound by his love for you. bound by the fact that he wouldn't need to worry about this, not if he dedicate himself to you as much as you did him.

as much as you deserved.

#i miss him #this is NOT me if i was in a situationship i'd never recover #lilac's late night talks ✧#gojo drabbles #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #jujutsu gojo #gojo fluff #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #satoru drabbles #satoru x you #gojo satoru #jjk satoru #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk drabbles

522 notes · View notes

yeoobiii · 9 months ago

Note

hello, can I ask you to write a mini story about Heeseung, where he teaches Y/n how to kiss 🙏🏻

⋆｡°✩ 𝙛𝙤𝙡𝙡𝙤𝙬 𝙢𝙮 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙙

꩜ bestfriend!heeseung x gn!reader

꩜ best friends to lovers (?), first kisses

꩜ during a game of truth or dare you admit to all your friends for the first time that you've never been kissed and that you're frankly scared you'll mess up once the situation presents itself. Heeseung sees a perfect opportinity to help you out with that.

or: Heeseung teaches his best friend how to kiss and both of you get a bit lost in it

wc: 5.1k (this has gotten a bit longer than I intended to but honestly I just went with the flow and here we are.)

warnings: consumption of alcohol

a/n: thank you for the request, anon! btw requests are open if you'd like me to write something specific, I can't promise you anything on how quickly I'll get it done or if it's something I'm up to writing but like the link is in my bio :)

I hope you like this, anon!

There’s a few things none of your college friends knew about you. Despite knowing most of them for over three years now, some things just never came up naturally in conversation. Like the fact that you’ve not had your first kiss yet.

Why make a big deal out of it? You’ve also never been in love before. You didn’t feel the urge to inform everyone about these things, especially since most of your friends have a rather active dating life. You wanted to do these things at your own pace and didn’t want anyone involved in how you could “solve that problem”. You simply never intended on telling them. That is until last weekend happened and somehow your roommates were able to convince you to participate in a game of truth or dare.

It was a Thursday night and your roommate told you that they were having a few friends over for a cozy hang out and you were definitely down to chill with them because the both of you were friends with similar people and got along great in general, so having a few drinks with your friends in your dorm room seemed like a nice way to spend the evening.

And everything went smoothly enough, people were trickling in and out, the overall vibe very casual and comfortable. That is however until your friend Sofia suggested a game of truth or dare. To be fair, the overall intake of alcohol increased as the evening was progressing. It was almost inevitable that a suggestion like that would arouse sooner or later.

Before you even properly thought about it, you agreed to play and sat down in a circle with around five other tipsy college students.

Only later on did your brain register that Heeseung was one of the few chosen ones. For a split second you even wondered when he had arrived, but then you remembered that he greeted you with a friendly embrace when he first arrived about half an hour ago.

Technically, there was nothing wrong with him participating in the same game, the both of you were friends after all.

You met Heeseung pretty much the first day college started, you were both in stats together and happened to be sitting next to each other on the first day and it’s been like that ever since. However, you guys didn’t hit it off right away, you were friendly with each other, sure, but that mostly also out of convenience and occasionally you shared your notes with each other or he was making sure you didn’t fall asleep in class. It was all really casual and you would have considered him more like a colleague than a friend.

That was the case until one particular night that was destined to shape the kind of friendship the two of you would have with each other forever.

It was one of your first frat parties, the first semester was about to end and freshmen with various kinds of majors gathered to celebrate this collective milestone. Safe to say the liquor was being poured without much hesitation.

It wasn’t the first time you’ve run into Heeseung at a frat party either. Usually you’d shoot each other the occasional nod, acknowledging the other’s presence and moving on with your night and that’s all there was to it.

However, fate had other plans for this particular night.

At one point you excused yourself from the dance floor and went out the back door into the small garden to catch some fresh air, to your surprise not many people were out there, just you and a small group of three people maybe, who seemed to be passing around a blunt.

It took you a second glance to not only see your roommate but also Heeseung being part of that group, your roommate immediately greeting you enthusiastically upon locking eyes with you and beckoning for you to sit with them.

Shortly after you were sitting on your ass, your roommate's arm interlocked with yours, being pulled into the conversation easily.

Heeseung sent a brief smile of acknowledgement your way, before taking a hit from the joint. You returned his smile and also greeted the fourth person sitting with you who was eventually introduced as Heeseung’s friend Jake.

The joint was being passed around and eventually landed in your hand as well and afterwards the conversation seemed to flow effortlessly. You joked and laughed along to whatever your company was saying but were also emerged in the more heated discussions.

At one point you were so deep into the conversation with Jake that you didn’t even realize your roommate getting up and going back inside and like ten minutes later, Jakes excused himself to the bathroom and didn’t seem to return anymore.

Which only left Heeseung and you.

Now, you’d be lying if you’d say being in such close proximity with a cute guy like Heeseung, all by yourselves in this somewhat intimate setting left you completely unaffected. You could feel yourself growing slightly flustered at nothing in particular, but you eventually catched yourself when Heeseung asked.

“So, what’s your favorite dinosaur?”

You fell into comfortable conversation after that and the longer the night went on, the more intense the topics got.

Whenever you think back to that one particular part of the evening it kinda feels like Heeseung and you were the only two things existing at the moment. Your brain didn’t register the people stepping in and out of the garden as the hours passed by.

It was well past 3am when you checked your phone for the time since sitting down. You told Heeseung and he was just as shocked as you were at how quickly the time had passed, almost apologizing for taking up so much of your time, but you assured him you were enjoying yourself.

“It has been a while since I sat down like that and was able to talk to someone for hours about whatever popped into my head.” You admitted to him and he seemed satisfied with that judging by the smile that graced his lips.

“Me too.”

And you could swear by the way his eyes shimmered in that moment that there was something – whatever that may have been – between the both of you. Or maybe it was just the weed.

Regardless of what you guys shared was something different than what you thought it might have been, you grew close very quickly after that evening. Heeseung started to joke around with you in class, you eventually asked him for his number and social media, he started sending you memes occasionally, you started to hang out outside of class in your little friend group.

At one point you were convinced he was actively seeking you out at parties, because ever since that evening, you always bumped into each other sooner or later during the night.

And whatever there might have been that one evening, nothing came of it. However, it almost seemed like you grew closer to Heeseung than all your other friends. People in your friend group would casually call you best friends and the more time passed the more that statement became true.

All occurrences in the past have led you to playing truth or dare on a Thursday night on the floor of your dorm room with each other. And usually that wouldn’t be an issue. Heeseung and you have progressed to a stage in your friendship where you knew almost everything about each other; almost.

You could feel the alcohol running in your system and were sincerely hoping you wouldn’t say something that you’d eventually regret. You just crossed your fingers and hoped for the best.

For the most part the game did run smoothly, it was fun and you had a good time, the only dare you had to do was show them your most embarrassing dance move.

That is until your roommate asked you truth or dare.

“Truth” you chose this time

“What was your first kiss like and who was it with?”

The question in and of itself was harmless, it matched the vibe of the very easy going game they had going on, Nonetheless, you felt put on the spot and before you could stop yourself – because you can’t pull off a lie for the life of you – you blurt out that you’ve never been kissed.

None of your friends seemed super unfazed by this seeing how you’ve not dated one person since you started college but Sofia’s eyes grew double in size.

“Not even a peck on the lips or something?” she questioned a bit bewildered.

You just shook your head, seeing from the corner of your eye how your roommate gave Sofia a light nudge at even asking such a question.

You couldn’t help but risk a short glance at Heeseung and were almost a bit startled when his eyes met yours instantly. He sent you a soft smile upon locking eyes with you. Was that pity you saw in his eyes? Your stomach turned itself upside down.

You really wish you could say it didn’t bother you at all, that at the age of 21 you’ve never kissed someone before. You didn’t want it to be a big deal, it really shouldn’t be a big deal.

But you couldn’t help but think that you lacked something or were one step behind everyone. It felt like missing out on an experience that usually people have in their late teens and early twenties.

You don’t know why it hasn’t happened for you yet. It’s not even that you want it to be with someone really special, the moment has simply never presented itself before and you usually take this for what it is, but right now – Heeseung’s expression burned into your skull – you suddenly feel a bit small.

“It’s not just that” you eventually start to break the silence, not yet realizing that you were about to make this so much worse, “it’s also the fact that even if I’d want to kiss someone, I wouldn’t know how.”

It took your drunken mind a hot minute to catch up with what you just said. Something within you simply wanted to fill the silence but the fact that your filter was basically non-existent due to your tipsy state was not taken into consideration the moment you opened your mouth.

You mentally slapped yourself across the face, this time not having the courage to even glance into Heeseung’s direction.

“It’s not that hard, I can show you!” Your roommate offered enthusiastically, intentions pure.

Your face flushed at the suggestion and you cringed a bit, more out of embarrassment that you ended up in this situation in the first place than by the proposal itself.

“I’ll let you know if I ever want to take you up on that suggestion.” You reply as nonchalantly as you can muster.

It’s not like the thought of asking a friend how to properly kiss has occurred to you before, but you could never quite bring yourself to get the request past your lips.

Your friends laugh at your response and easily move on with the conversation, taking the attention off of you. And that was that. Or at least that’s what you thought…

Two weeks later you enter the lecture hall and already spot Heeseung sitting in his usual spot and just like on autopilot you placed yourself next to him and the both of you exchanged greetings, just like you usually would. You’d also catch up about your weekends and shortly after the lecture started, taking up both of your attention.

It wasn’t until halfway through the lecture that Heeseung poked your shoulder, extending his notebook to you, clearly wanting to show you something.

With blue ink he has written on the page:

“You want me to teach you?”

Your eyebrows furrow, confused at what he meant.

You write down below him:

“Teach me what?” Confusion clear on your face as you watch him write something else.

“How to kiss”

You choked on your own spit.

Heeseung chuckled next to you. You could smack him across the head right now and you made a mental note to do just that once class is over.

Once you collected yourself, you took the pen from Heeseung and wrote three question marks under his proposal.

Why would he offer to teach you in the first place and out of all the places to suggest this to you he chose the middle of your lecture? Why?

He grinned at your question marks and if you didn’t know him any better you thought he was making fun of you. Had any other person done this to you, you’d probably actually have been hurt but first of all you still didn’t know if he was serious and second of all it was Heeseung. You knew him well enough to know he’d never use such a situation to make fun of you.

At that moment the professor seemed to notice your lack of attention and decided to ask you a question directly, returning your attention to the lecture where it stayed until you were dismissed.

The topic didn’t arise again between Heeseung and you even though the whole scenario didn’t seem to be able to leave your mind. At lunch you stared at Heesung making conversation with Jake over something you did not pay attention to, trying to figure him out.

In your head the puzzle pieces were just not fitting. Why would he suggest that all of a sudden? And why was it so hard for you to find an answer to his question…

After the whole frat party thing where you originally became friends, you had developed a small crush on Heeseung that gradually developed as time went by. It’s just after some time had passed and neither of you made any advances towards the other you eventually abandoned the idea of getting with Heeseung and were left with two options, getting over your crush or having to live with your unrequited feelings.

You chose the first option. It took you quite some time but you managed to accept the fact that Heeseung was simply a really good friend and your feelings faded as seasons changed.

You’d be lying saying they ever went away completely. There’s no reason denying that Heeseung was painfully your type and that no matter how hard you tried to tell yourself that you didn’t like him like that anymore, you were attracted to him.

So, saying his suggestion to teach you how to kiss took you by surprise was the understatement of the century.

He probably just tried to be a good friend, right? Your roommate had suggested to teach you as well back then and there were no other intentions behind that, you were certain of that. So, why are you questioning Heeseung so much?

The topic didn’t come up again until one day you were hanging out in your dorm room. Just your roommate, Heeseung and yourself. It was often like that, sometimes Jake was also around but today it was just the three of you, that is at least until your roommate told you that they were heading out for dinner at around six and didn’t know when they’d be back.

Once they left, it was just Heeseung and you left.

Ever since he made his suggestion in class, you dreaded being alone with him, because you didn’t know if the topic would come up again or if you even wanted it to.

Heeseung was lying on your bed, his feet resting on your lap, while you were sitting at the end of the bed, back resting against the wall. Heeseung was scrolling through his phone when you decided to address the elephant in the room, because you figured if he wasn’t the one to bring it up, why shouldn’t you?

“Were you serious?” you simply said, not in any particular tone, just wanting to clear the haze in your head.

“Do you mean about the kissing thing?” He said without looking away from his face. The fact that he instantly knew what you were talking about indicated enough that he was aware it’s been eating at you.

You nod.

He locked his phone and threw it to the side, moving to sit up and also lean his back against the wall so that he can face you.

“I was and I still am.” He said, no trace of irony to be found.

“Why?” You couldn’t help but ask.

He shrugged his shoulders, “It seemed like it bothered you that day. You know, when you told everyone how you’re scared you’d mess up if it comes down to the real thing?”

He teased at you being so open due to liquid courage, a small smile forming on his face as you rolled your eyes at him.

“I was put on the spot and that was the only thing my brain provided at the moment to fill the silence.” You whine more frustrated with yourself than anyone else.

“So, you’re not worried about that?” He asked in return.

It was silent for a moment as you contemplated his question. You could easily dig yourself a way out of this by denying it, convincing him it was mainly the liquor talking. But you and Heeseung were never really the type to lie to each other.

“I am” you eventually admit, not meeting his eyes “I don’t know… It’s a bit silly but like I don’t know anyone my age who hasn’t been kissed before and I feel like it’s gonna be really awkward if the situation arises and I chicken out because I have no idea how to actually kiss someone.”

Heeseung listened to you and took your words in before answering.

“But you know, most first kisses are kinda awkward, I think.”

“Was your first kiss weird at all?” You asked him.

“Yeah, very.” He chuckled, sitting up more on the bed, “it was kinda too much of everything, too much teeth, too much spit, just entirely too much.”

He shuddered a bit, recollecting his first kiss.

“See? And I’d have no idea about any of that.” You said almost a bit frustrated.

“Then let me show you.” He insisted, your eyes meeting.

The way he says it so casually makes you want to rip your hair out.

“It’s just a kiss, right? And it’s me! You don’t have to be embarrassed with me.” He said, eyebrows slightly raised, trying to ease your mind.

You look at him. He looks cozy in his oversized sweatshirt, his body language his usual relaxed self. It was still a bit fascinating how he could take this all so lightly but then again, it really was just a kiss for him.

And you know you shouldn’t. You shouldn’t kiss Heeseung. In fact, your head is screaming at you not to kiss him, because the risk of buried feelings resurfacing is simply too big. But you’d also be lying to yourself if you’d say you weren’t curious what his lips would feel like against yours and it were thoughts like this that’d mean certain doom for you sooner or later.

At your silence Heeseung added “Look, there’s really no pressure at all. I just thought maybe you’d like to know a few things that will help ease your mind, but of course you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

And of course he would say that. Of course he’d go out of his way to reassure you that you’re safe with him and that he respected your choice no matter what. Maybe sharing your first kiss with Heeseung wasn’t that bad of an idea after all. At least like that you could make sure it’s someone who respects you and your boundaries, someone who makes sure you feel safe and comfortable no matter what.

Maybe you could allow yourself this. Maybe having this as the memory of your first kiss wasn’t too bad.

“Like, right now?” You asked, which seemed to surprise Heeseung a little. He must have been convinced you’d turn him down.

“I mean, whenever is fine.” He responded suddenly you could see his cool demeanor crack, spotting a few hints of nervousness behind the cracks.

“I think, I’d be down.” You eventually say after contemplating for another minute.

“Really?” Heeseung’s eyebrows were almost at his hairline.

“Lee Heeseung, if you tell me right now that all of this has been a sick joke of yours after all, I’m ending this friendship right now.”

Panic flashed in his eyes.

“No! No, of course not. I was being serious. I just didn’t think…. I didn’t think you’d agree.” he admitted.

“So, how does this work?” you ask, not knowing where to even start.

“Oh, so you really want to do it right now, I see.” Heeseung mumbled more to himself than anyone in particular.

He scooted slightly closer to you.

“Well, first we gotta get closer.” He moves to sit next to you on the bed, shoulders touching.

You watch him, fascinated at how quickly his shyness has been replaced by his cool, nonchalant demeanours once again.

Heeseung and you have cuddled on more than one occasion before, but this feels different, you’re hyper aware of the place where his shoulder is bumping into yours and your tights are touching. This close, you could smell his cologne and shampoo.

“It’s not that complicated really” he starts explaining.

“If you want to just have a small, simple kiss. We’d both tilt our heads slightly as we get closer. Let me show you.”

He turns towards you, his eyes meeting yours. And you could swear there it was again. That shimmer from the first night the both of you actually talked to each other. You push that thought to the back of your head, the indications behind that too overwhelming for what’s about to happen right now.

His hand hovers above your cheek and you nod, allowing him to gently grab you by the jaw and tilt your head into one direction. The distance between his and your face shrinks as he does so, the pace of your heartbeat picking up in the process.

You could feel his breath against your lips as he spoke again.

“This is usually the point most people close their eyes and then you just… kiss.”

You close your eyes and a moment later you felt the sensation of Heeseung’s lips softly pressing against yours. All thoughts seem to leave your head the instant your lips touched, your heart basically beating out of your chest. It took you a moment to actually process the sensation and just as you were about to lose yourself in the feeling, Heeseung pulled back slightly.

“You know, this is the part where you kiss me back.” He chuckled, the sound sending a shiver down your spine and maybe it was all in your head but you could swear his voice sounded different then just a second ago; a bit deeper, maybe even a bit flustered.

“My bad” you said, making Heeseung throw his head back with laughter, making you giggle as well.

It eases your anxiety a bit that even in stations like this, you were able to just laugh with him and easing the tension so easily.

“No worries” he laughed “Wanna try again?”

Again?

What did he mean again? Wasn’t that it?

Despite yourself, you nod.

“Okay, this time make sure to reciprocate the pressure I put against your lips, got it?”

“Got it” you kept your replies fairly short, afraid your voice would fail you otherwise.

Before you knew it, Heeseung was leaning in again.

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

You close your eyes and soon after you feel the now familiar pressure of his lips again, this time making sure to kiss him back. Without thinking about it, your hand found its way onto Heeseung’s neck, where your fingers absentmindedly played with hair as you were kissing him.

This kiss lasted longer than the first one, you could feel Heeseung moving against you and followed his lead. It was easier to flow into the rhythm than you’d have thought, his lips soft and gentle against yours.

You were starting to feel lightheaded as he pulled away again and you had to resist the urge to chase after his lips.

“That was pretty good” he said, slightly out of breath, his pupils slightly dilated, his gaze fixed on your lips before he looked up at you.

“Also the thing you did with your hand, it seems like you’re a natural.” He chucked.

That’s when you saw your hand still resting against his neck, you instantly pulled it away once your brain caught up to what he was saying.

“Oh, I didn’t even realize…”

For a second there was a silence between the both of you; a silence that wasn’t quiet at all. You couldn’t seem to take your eyes off of him and neither could he. You could probably cut the tension with a knife.

“And what if… what if I’d want it to get more intense, you know?”

Heeseung’s eyebrows shot up.

“More intense?” He said, knowing very well what you were implying.

“I get how just kissing someone on the lips like that might not be that hard but what if– what if it goes further?”

Heeseung cleared his throat at your words and sat up straighter.

“You mean, if you would want to deepen the kiss?” He inquired.

You just nod, looking up at him, not failing to notice the light blush that’s starting to form on his cheeks, matching your own flusteredness.

“You want me to show you as well?”

You nod. Something about how his lips feel against yours was addictive, making you throw all your previous reservations out of the window.

“It’s kinda hard to explain though. I’d just have to show you?” He said, a bit unsure.

“That’s okay.”

“Okay so, basically you start with a kiss just like we shared before. You’ll just have to let me lead, okay?”

Something about the way he said that sent a shiver down your spine, words refusing to leave your mouth so you just nod.

Soon enough, his lips were on yours again and even though you were only separated for a few minutes, you already started to miss the sensation and the tingle it made you feel in your stomach and chest. Naturally, your hand found its way back into his hair.

Suddenly, you felt his tongue brush against your bottom lip and your heart took a leap. Instinctively, you opened your mouth for him. A few moments pass and he starts licking gently into your mouth.

You actively have to suppress sounds that were starting to build in the back of your throat at the sensation.

You could also feel one of his hands pressing against your waist while the other one was busy cupping your cheek.

Without much thinking you pressed forward, wanting to match his eagerness, which led to your teeth clinking against each other to which Heeseung pulled back slightly, chuckling.

“Take it slow, yeah?” He said, his face still incredibly close to yours.

As you nod at his remark he dives back in, taking you by surprise a bit. You were welcoming the touch of lips nonetheless.

This time you tried to dial down your eagerness and gently let his tongue guide yours, your insides turning into mush in the process.

Without thinking you slightly pulled at his hair, making him hum against your lips.

He must like that? you think to yourself.

Your stomach did a 360 at the thought of stirring him on further.

At this point your tongues were dancing with each other gently, no trance of any kind of hesitation left, the feeling leaving your head dizzy and your heart fluttering.

The way Heeseung kept pulling you in by your jaw and how his grip on your hip was getting tighter.

“I’ve wanted to do this for a really long time.” He suddenly blurts out in between kisses and if you wouldn’t be so lost in the feeling of his lips on yours you’d stop to question his statement, but right now your heart simply leaped in your chest.

Overcome by a sudden wave of braveness, you swung one of your legs across his lap, straddling him. Heeseung looked at you starstruck, his hands instantly finding their way to your hips caressing them.

You took the time to look at him for a moment, his pupils were practically blown out and he looked so pretty with kiss swollen lips, glistering with both of your spit.

This was the first time you initiated the kiss, he easily reciprocated.

The kisses were sometimes still a bit sloppy but neither you nor Heeseung seemed to care, too lost in the feeling of each other’s bodies pressed against each other.

His hands were traveling up your sides and down your tights again and you were drowning in this feeling, of his hands touching you; exploring you. Soon enough, him trying to teach you how to kiss turned into a full on make out session.

That was until your roommate burst into the room without any announcement, making you jump off of Heeseung in an instant, cursing your body for immediately missing his closeness.

You both looked guilty and flustered as your roommate looked the both of you up and down.

“My bad, I’m just here to grab my charger. Continue with what you’ve been doing. It was only a matter of time until this happened anyway.”

They said and were gone as quickly as they had arrived.

You and Heeseung looked at each other for a second. Both of you burst into laughter shortly after.

“I think at some point we should really have a conversation about what exactly this is between us.” He gestured between the both of you after recovering from the sudden interruption.

And you were glad he brought it up because you think your heart would have been shattered into a hundred pieces if this didn’t have the same effect on him as it had on you; making your stomach flutter, turning your insides into mush, craving more.

“Better sooner than later, right?” you smile at him, hope filling your heart.

feel free to let me know your thoughts <3

541 notes · View notes

queenbrucewayne · 1 month ago

Text

Mrs Grayson

A/n: ngl I had an idea of what I wanted in the beginning and then half way through writing this I lost it.

Monday mornings were typically all the same. Maybe a few meetings, a couple of boring emails, and another charity event to be planned for this coming weekend.

Your desk was just outside Bruce Waynes office. Being his PA for a little over a year now, you had developed a sense of familiarity with him. His body language always spoke louder to you then any false persona he tried to put on, and the silent ways you two communicate wether it was from board meetings or even trying to send an SOS to get away from an over talkative coworker.

Today Bruce hadn't made much progress to leave his office. He was on back to back phone calls and meetings. The only times you really got to see him was to bring him more coffee every hour or so.

Even now, you could slightly hear his voice coming from inside, still on the phone with the same company from an hour ago.

The day was almost over and he still had more emails to answer. It was going to be a long night..

Just then, your phone started ringing. Reaching down to open your desk draw to grab it, you became confused to see an unknown number.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Mrs Grayson, we have your son here."

"Oh, I'm sorry, but I think you have the wrong-"

"Mom?!" Suddenly a young voice came through. "Can I talk to her?"

The sound of shuffling could be heard, as you waited even more confused now.

"Uhh.... hello?" The young boy spoke up again.

A sense of recognition hit you. "Mr Grayson? What are you doing? How did you get my number?"

"So... I got into some trouble with school, they want you to come and pick me up, I thought they would want to see you since dads so....busy." His voice flowed so smoothly and his lie went out of his mouth like it was nothing. He was really good...

"Mr Grayson, are you-"

"Yes!." He suddenly cut in. "Okay, that sounds great. My teacher and I will see you soon."

Before you could respond with anything, he quickly hung up, leaving you to sit there. You glanced over to his office door, debating with yourself if you should inform him about his sons odd phone call or not.

Getting up from your desk and walking over to the coffee machine, you poured another cup. Taking it to the office door you slowly cracked it open to peak inside.

He was still sitting at his desk, his hands on top his head that was now messy and ruffled instead of it’s normal gel down look. He looked exhausted.

Walking more inside, it wasn’t until you had set the coffee down in front of him that he looked up to you. Smiling gently, he reached over to mute himself so the person talking on the phone couldn’t hear.

“Thank you Y/n.” Taking the mug, he took a sip, sighing out in relief. “I have a feeling I’ll be here much longer, you should really head home for the day.”

Standing there for a moment, you hesitated to say something about the phone call. “Uhh, are you sure?”

Bruce smiled, his eyes were exhausted but he still tried to make it seem like he wasn’t. “I’m sure. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You decided then and there that you would take care of whatever his son needed. He clearly wasn’t gonna he leaving anytime soon, and to add on to it that he might have to deal with another stressful matter with his sons school.

Whatever it was, Mr Grayson called you. Which probably meant it wasn’t anything you couldn’t handle.

“Have a good night sir. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Giving a wave and headed towards the door, you took your leave. Grabbing all your stuff, you headed to the elevator and out of the office.

Once you started driving towards Mr Grayson school, the doubt started coming back. Was this really a good idea?

You had known the boy for as long as you worked for Mr Wayne. He was always so energetic and his sense of humor was always something you looked forward too.

Every so often he would come by the office, and every time he did, he would never fail to come over to your desk and chat.

Arriving at the school was intimidating in itself. The place was almost like a college campus, if not for the signs every where you would’ve probably never have found the main office building.

Walking inside you instantly saw the main office doors. They were still open and that made it easy to spot Mr Grayson sitting at one of the chairs, swaying his feet back and forth.

When you walked in, the front desk lady quickly greeted you with a smile. “Hi, are you Mrs Grayson?”

That definitely caught you off guard even more to hear it in person then over the phone. “Uhh, yes… hi.”

“Mom!” Suddenly Dick had sprung from his chair and wrapped his arms around your waist. “You made it.”

Looking down, you notice that he was surprised to see you. Probably because he didn’t think you would show up….

“Yes… Um, so why am I here?” Placing a hand on his head, you decided to continue this act.

“We wanted to call you in, since this is Richards third time here this week.” The women motion to the open door beside her. “The principle is inside, waiting.”

Nodding your head, you glanced down to look at Bruce’s son. He smiled nervously up at you, this might go horribly wrong.

You both walked inside the office, a older man sat on the other side of the desk and was typing away at his computer. Seeing you both at his door, he quickly got up and presented out his hand.

“Hello! It’s a pleasure to finally meet you Mrs Grayson, I’m the principal for the school. I was hoping to bring you in to talk about this past week with Mr Grayson.”

Shaking the man’s hand, you and Dick both had a seat. “Yes, the women out front told me he’s been here multiple times this week.”

He gave a grimace smile. “Yes, unfortunately… we have been getting complaints from a couple teachers about him not getting along with fellow students.”

You looked over to Dick, genuine confusion took over your face. He was such a sweet kid. You would have never thought he would be having trouble getting along with other kids.

Dick rolled his eyes. “Those kids were making fun of someone! I didn’t start it!” He protested.

You didn’t react really to his outburst, but when glancing at the principal who was in shock you instantly corrected yourself.

“Mr - ah… Richard, behave yourself!” You scolded. Which seemed to satisfy the man.

Dick turned to you confused for a moment but then must’ve quickly realized why you scolded him. Instantly, he leaned back down in his seat and folded his hands on top his lap.

“Ah, so, not getting along with the other kids? Well I’m sure this can be fixed instantly. We will have a talk with his father when we get home, but I assure you my… son is not displaying his normal character, but I’m determined to get him back on track.” Wow… Where the hell did that all come from? You barley even stuttered

The man smiled. You all stood up from your chairs and he held his hand out again to shake. “I’m so glad we could bring this to your attention Mrs Grayson.”

“Yes… me too. I’m sure once all the parents are on the same page by the end of this week there won’t be anymore office visits.” You piped up, getting ready to walk out the door, you stopped yourself when you heard Dick scoff.

“Yeah right. I’m the only one they called in.” He mumbled.

Confused, you turned back to the principal. “You haven’t spoken to any of the other kids or parents?”

“Why, no we haven’t. We didn’t find it necessary to bother any of the other children or parents.” He stated, seeming confused by the suggestion.

“Why not? I mean… Richard, he wouldn’t just start something for not good reason, did you even listen to another side of the story?”

The man laughed, he actually laughed! “Mrs Grayson, with all due respect. Your child seems to be the main issue to all these fights that have been happening. There wouldn’t be any need for-“

“Did you ask?” You interrupt

“Excuse me?”

“Did you ask what happened? Or just took one kids word for it?” You asked again.

“I- well- uh.” He stammered a bit, not seeming to think of something quick enough to say.

You looked down to Dick, who was already staring at you surprised. “Tell me what happened.”

He glanced between you and the principal, hesitating for a moment, but then quickly excited. “It’s the same four kids! All of them picking on these two new girls, the ones with scholarships. They heard that the one uniform is the only one they can afford, so they started messing with them and trying to find ways all week to ruin them.”

“Okay, so how did you get involved?” You asked.

“I told them to quit it! And then when they just started to mess with me… I thought it was better then paying attention to them.” He shrugged. “But today, they actually ended up ripping one of the girls skirts and made her cry, so I… I pushed him, and his friends got involved. Now I’m here.”

You looked back to the principal. “Seems like you got the wrong kid in here.” You spat. “Maybe I’m not the only parent who needs a phone call.” Grabbing his hand, you walked out of the office. “Let’s go, we’re leaving.”

“Mrs Grayson! Please wait!” The man shouted from behind.

You spun on your heels to face home again. “I don’t appreciate you putting blame on one kid when you don’t have your facts straight, especially this kid…” Glancing down to Dick you squeezed his hand gently. “Do you think these two girls would back your story up?”

His eyes got big. “Absolutely! They’re really nice! I have no doubt they would explain everything.”

You looked back to the principal. “I think that should be your next step. Then. You can call me back here… have a nice rest of your day.” Pulling Dick towards you, and walking out of the school toward your car.

Once you got to your car you kicked your tire in frustration. “What jerks!” You shouted. “I mean, they didn’t even bother to listen to you! And that man- ugh he was so smug too. Did you see that? How smug he looked?”

Turning towards Dick, he had the biggest smile on his face, seeming amused by your outburst. His odd reaction caused you to stop and think for a moment. Realizing what you just had done.

“Oh no. I totally just played into your lie. Now they think I’m your actual mother… oh what have I done?” You started to panic a bit. Bruce was so gonna fire you.

“It was great!” Dick cheered out. “You were so cool, and they really believed it! How awesome!”

“Not awesome.” You stated. “Your father is so gonna fire me.”

Dick shock his head, walking over he put a hand on your back. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell him. It’ll be our secret.”

You scoffed. “After the outburst I just pulled in there… he’s bound to find out.” You started to think for a moment. “How did you get them to believe I was your mother anyway?”

“I told them you didn’t wanna take the Wayne name, and you traveled a lot for work. Seemed to workout pretty well.” He shrugged.

“Common. I gotta take you home, hopefully your dad is still at the office, I don’t know how I am gonna explain this to him.” You sighed out, unlocking the car and walking around to the drivers side.

“Y/n?” Dick called out. He stood there shyly. “Thank you, for defending me. Believing me…”

You smiled softly. “You’re a good kid Mr Grayson. I truly believe that. I know those girls will defend you, and this will get all sorted out.”

“I hope so, or I’m probably going to get grounded again…” He grumbled. Opening the car door, you both got inside and drove off.

Once you arrived at the Wayne manor, you noticed immediately the older gentleman standing outside already at the front door.

“I wonder what Alfred is doing?” Dick spoke up, leaning forward in the front seat trying to get a better look.

Once you stopped, Dick quickly turned back to you. “Don’t worry, I’ll think of something as to why you’re dropping me off! I won’t let dad fire you!” He smiled confidently, opening the car door and jumping out, shutting it behind him and running up the front steps to Alfred.

Alfred turned to look at you. So you put a hand up and a smile you hoped didn’t look nervous. He responded with the same and both of them turned around to walk inside. Well that was an eventful day...

The next morning went way more smoothly. All the busyness from yesterday had subsided for the most part and the office space seemed much more at ease and relaxed.

Dropping your stuff on your desk, you took the extra coffee you got on your way into work and cracked open Bruces office door. He was sitting at his desk looking at his computer. He didn't seem as tired as yesterday, but he probably wasn't going to be a burst of energy ether.

Setting down the coffee, he looked up at you and smiled. "Good morning." He greeted.

"Morning, I hope you didn't leave too late yesterday."

He took the coffee and leaned back in his chair. "Around nine, so it could've been worse." Taking a sip from his cup, his eyes looked up towards you. "How was the rest of your evening yesterday? Do anything exciting?"

You froze in place, trying your best to keep a straight face. He didn't say it in an accusing way, it sounded like a genuine question. Perhaps he didn't know...

"Uh, no, no. Nothing crazy, just went home..." You tried to sound casual, but him staring at you didn't help the guilt of lying to him.

Thinking for a moment he was gonna call you out, he just nodded and set his coffee back down. "Well, today should go a lot smoother. Only two meetings and maybe a conference call later."

"Okay then, sounds like plan, I'll make sure the conference room is open for later." Turning around you started to make your way towards the door.

"Oh! I almost forgot. We have a new client coming in at the end of the day, would like you to be here when he arrives." He went back to his computer, continuing what he was doing before.

Confused, you turned back around. "You want me in the office?"

"Yeah, would like you to meet him." He said, not taking his eyes off his screen.

You had never been in his office to meet any new clients. Normally he had those when you were doing your schedule planning to keep you right outside the door so nobody would come inside unannounced. After a few moments of silence he glanced back up to you.

"Is something wrong?" He asked.

That caused you to jump, quickly putting on a fake smile you shook your head. "No, thats fine. I- uh, I'll make sure I'm here."

He looked at you for a moment curiously, then just turned back to his computer. Not saying anything more, you took your leave. Closing the door, you sat yourself down at your desk.

You started to think of any possibly as to why he would want you in there, why he would want you to meet this new client. It seemed suspicious.

The whole day was spent just as planned, with the few meetings and the conference call going as smooth as they could've, it looked like the end of the day was already here.

The elevator doors opened up and you were back to your desk to gather all your things. However, it then occurred to you that the new client was coming, if he wasn't already here.

Walking to Bruces door, you slowly turned the handle and opened just enough to peak inside. Bruce was sitting at his desk filling out some paperwork.

Once he noticed you standing at his door he smiled and set down his pen. "Come on in, have a seat."

Opening the door wider, you made your way to one of his office chairs that was in front of his desk. He smiled at you, then continued writing down on his paper.

You shifted in your seat, your hands were sweating from the nerves he was making you feel. This was certainly awkward.

"Uh, is there something I can do for you?" You finally spoke up.

Not even looking up at you, Bruce just continued writing. "No, he'll be here soon."

"Who will be?" You asked.

Right on cue, there was three knocks coming from the office door. Hearing it creek open from behind, you sat patently as the foot steps got closer.

Bruce smiled up at the visitor, "Nice of you to join us."

Looking up, your eye became wide as you saw none other then Dick Grayson standing beside you. When he looked down to you, his expression quickly changed. He was as shocked to see you as you were to see him.

Busted...

Dick quickly went to protest but Bruce cut him off. "Don't you think you owe an apology to Y/n- oh I'm sorry... I mean't Mrs Grayson." Bruce voice was stern, not anything like you've heard before.

That must have kicked in for Dick, because he instantly faced you, his face filled with guilt. "I'm sorry, Y/n."

"No, no, I should be apologizing, I-"

"Did nothing wrong." Bruce cut in. He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. "My son, had taken your emotions for him to advantage to save himself. Absolutely unacceptable.”

You stood up abruptly. “I’m the adult!” The sudden raise in voice made Dick jump, he looked nervously between the both of you.

Taking a deep breathe, you slowly sat back down. “Mr Wayne, I made the choice to go to his school, to lie to you, to lie to his teachers and classmates… I should be apologizing to you for overstepping, I had no right to go and do that.” You looked back to Dick smiling sadly. “He’s a great kid… I just-” the thought coming back to you as to why he lied in the first place.

“No it’s not!” Dick suddenly shouted. “I shouldn’t have ever called her, I shouldn’t have put her in a position to lie to you or my principal… I’m sorry, don’t let her take any of the fall.”

Bruce sat there for a moment just looking between the both of you. His expression was stoic and didn’t really tell you much about what he could possibly be thinking.

Just then he sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Alright, Dick, your grounded, that is final... No after school activities for a week."

When he said that you saw Dick face suddenly drop, and he seemed to go and argue but must have remembered you were still sitting there. Whatever his after school activities were, he obviously didn’t wanna share with you.

Instead he nodded his head in understanding. “Okay, that’s fair…”

Bruce then turned his attention to you, which automatically made you sit up straighter. “Alfred should be waiting for you outside, I’ll see you when I get home.” He said all of this and not once taking his eyes off you.

Dick looked nervously between you two, he took a step closer to beside your chair, almost in a protective stance. “Uh, maybe Y/n should escort me to Alfred, I do tend to get lost around the building and-“

“Dick..” Bruce warned.

You smiled sadly, placing your hand on his shoulder he looked back down to you. “It’s okay, I’ll be fine.” Although you were so sure of that yourself.

He gave you a small smile, taking your hand in his and giving it a gentle squeeze. “See you on the other side.” He said. Letting go of your hand and walking out of the office.

Looking back to Bruce who was still staring at you intently. You cleared your throat, shifting around in your seat to try and calm your nerves. “I will take any punishment you deem necessary.”

His eyes stayed on you for a moment longer. Until he let out a deep sigh. “Relax Y/n, I’m not going to punish you.”

“Really?” You couldn’t help but ask. It was a relief but still surprising.

“No, I only pretend like I was going to so Dick would think his actions would have gotten you in trouble too.” He leaned back in his chair, going back to typing on his computer.

“What? But why-“

“Right after the principal called me, I received another call from the lady at the front desk. She heard the whole conversation, especially the part of you defending him.” He glanced back to you. “She did some investigating, and well… the girls came forward. They both were willing to back up his story.”

“That’s great!” You perked up this time, feeling the relief set in finally.

“Apparently the principal was going to just go with the original story. She made sure that didn’t happen, and also didn’t fail to mention that the other parents would be involved.” He smiled softly at you.

This was great! A better outcome then you could’ve imagined. But- “Wait, what about me?”

“What about you?” He asked.

“It’s just… I still crossed a line, I mean, there’s gotta be a major HR issue about pretending to be your bosses kids mom and going to their school to get them out of trouble.” Saying it out loud definitely made it sound worse.

Bruce laughed, nodding in agreement to your statement. “Well, I do admit, it’s definitely a childish way of how things turned out, and I’m sure there’s some unspoken rule about that.”

“But?” You pushed on.

“But, you stuck your neck out for Dick, you beloved him and protected him in a way.. I think that’s enough to let it slide.” He shrugged, seeming satisfied with that explanation.

Nodding, you smiled fully this time. Taking the moment to enjoy Dick Grayson win. “He’s a great kid.”

“He is.” Bruce agreed. Standing up from his chair, he went to pass by you. “Although if I had to give some advise on the plan you two made.”

You looked up at him curious. He set a hand on top your shoulder and leaned down closer to your ear.

“I would’ve used the Wayne name instead.” He whispered. Pulling back, he smirked down at you. Seeing how your eyes widened and how you went speechless.

He squeezed your shoulder gently before walking out of his office, laughing as he shut the door.

You scoffed, taking a moment to compose yourself you got up to leave. Trying hard to lose the grin on your face.

@christianbalefanatic

#batman #batman x reader #batman x you #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x y/n #dc comics #dc universe #bruce wayne #queen bruce wayne #dcu

191 notes · View notes

sakuraszn · 3 months ago

Text

ⵌ TOO DAMN LONG !

ft. choso kamo x reader

synopsis. you and your very ‘laid back’ boyfriend choso go to a party and he sits quietly on the sidelines, watching his partner effortlessly charm everyone around them, but as the night progresses he can’t help but feel a little pent up. He had promised to be patient. He had promised to let you have your fun. But you’ve been ignoring him all night. Without a word, he takes you.

cw. sfw content? maybe..┊suggestive themes┊social butterfly reader┊needy choso┊jealous and possessive acts┊slight choking┊at a party┊small mention of the nickname “baby”┊fem coded

nia's notes. you guys don’t understand how much I love him so much so I had to write a fanfic dedicated to this fine, scrumptious man. *giggles for a whole hour while rereading this story* [1.7k words.]

The house was packed, the air thick with warmth, the scent of alcohol, sweat, and faint traces of perfume swirling under dim lighting. Music pulsed through the walls, bass heavy enough to rattle the floor. Conversations layered over each other, people talking too loudly, laughter ringing out every few seconds. The energy was intoxicating, electric, like something alive.

And Choso was miserable.

Not outwardly, of course. He wasn’t the type to sulk in the open, wasn’t the type to scowl and brood in a corner like some jealous boyfriend who couldn’t handle his girl being social.

But fuck, was he struggling.

His fingers twitched around the half-empty cup in his hand, gaze glued to you across the room. You were glowing, all teeth and laughter, caught up in the whirlwind of conversation, dashing between groups with that effortless charm that had everyone wanting a piece of you.

And you had forgotten about him.

Not on purpose. Heavens no! He knew you weren't the type to ignore him deliberately, but it didn’t make the aching in his chest any less suffocating. You had promised you’d stick close, knowing full well that he wasn’t the party type, but here you were—completely absorbed, completely unaware of the fact that he was starving for her attention.

His jaw clenched as he watched another guy—someone you had just met tonight, some fucking stranger—lean in close, laughing at something you said. Too close. A hand on your arm, lingering for a second longer than necessary, a touch you didn’t even react to because you were too lost in conversation.

And Choso was spiraling.

His grip on the cup tightened, his breath becoming too heavy. It wasn’t your fault. You're friendly. Warm. The kind of person people gravitated toward. He knew that.

But that didn’t mean he could handle watching someone else touch what was his.

It wasn’t fair.

You had spent the entire night lost in laughter, your eyes sparkling as you shared sweet smiles and warmth with friends. Each moment you gave them felt like a dagger to him, a reminder of his isolation.

Where was his place in all of this?

As he watched you, a fierce wave of possessiveness surged within him, a first instinct igniting beneath his skin. His heart raced, a throbbing drum that echoed with every laugh you directed toward someone else. The tight knot in his stomach twisted tighter, a suffocating weight pressing down on him. It felt unbearable—an unsettling mix of desire and jealousy that made him restless, hot, and agitated.

You were his, or you should be. The way you leaned into their jokes, the way your laughter rang out—it was as if you were giving pieces of yourself away. He wanted to yell, to pull you back, to remind you of the spark you two shared, the warmth that belonged to him alone.

He was desperate.

For you.

For your warmth, for your touch, for the way you looked at him when it was just the two of you.

And you weren’t even fucking looking at him.

His breath hitched. He needed you now.

Not later. Not when the party started to die down, not when you had finally had your fill of socializing and remembered that he was here, waiting like a fool.

Now.

So before he could stop himself, he moved.

His drink was abandoned on the counter as he cut through the crowd, shouldering past bodies, his steps slow but deliberate. His patience was gone.

You didn’t notice him until he was right beside you until his fingers curled around your wrist, firm, unyielding.

You blinked up at him, surprised. “Choso?”

He stood there in silence, a heavy weight pressing down on his chest as it rose and fell in a rapid motion. His stomach twisted painfully, an unrelenting ache that gnawed at him, fueled by an overwhelming sense of need that had taken root deep within. His focus narrows to the intense feelings brewing inside him, making words feel impossible to form. Instead, he just pulled you in.

You gasped softly at the suddenness of it, nearly slipping into his chest.

“What are you—”

“Come with me.”

His voice was low, rough, almost pleading.

Your brows furrowed, lips parting in confusion. “Wait, I was just—”

“Please, baby.”

And that made you freeze.

Because Choso never begged.

Your gaze flickered over his face—his tense jaw, the way his pupils were blown, the way his fingers twitched against your skin like he was holding himself back from grabbing you, dragging you away.

Slowly, realization dawned.

oh.

He had been waiting all night.

You had left him steaming, aching, drowning in some quiet storm of jealousy and want that she hadn’t even noticed building up inside him.

A slow, heated smile tugged at her lips.

“Alright,” she murmured, voice suddenly soft, indulgent.

You had let him pull you through the house, out of the suffocating crowd, down a dark hallway.

And the second they were alone, the door barely even closed behind them—

His hand was on your neck.

Your breath caught.

Not tight. Not rough. Just firm enough to make you feel held. His thumb grazed your jaw, lifting your chin and compelling you to lock eyes with him.

And damn, he looked utterly undone.

Dark eyes widened, breath catching in his throat, lips slightly parted in anticipation.

“You left me,” he whispered.

Your stomach flipped.

“I—”

“You left me all night.”

The air was heavy with tension, a charged silence that felt as though it held its breath, waiting. His other hand gripped her waist, pulling your flush against him, pressing you against the wall, holding you there like he was afraid you’d disappear again.

Your pulse fluttered against his fingers, a frantic drumbeat that echoed the storm seething within him. “I didn’t mean to,” you admitted, your voice barely more than a whisper.

Choso exhaled sharply through his nose, frustration clawing at him. It wasn’t you he was angry with; it was himself, at the way he couldn’t handle being ignored, at the way his chest ached for you in a way that made him feel pathetic.

But fuck it.

He was past pride.

“I missed you.” His lips crashed into yours.

Starving. Possessive.

He devoured you, the kiss deep and desperate, teeth grazing your bottom lip, tongue pushing past the hem of your mouth, taking.

A soft whine slipped from your throat, and fuck, it only made him hungrier.

His fingers tightened around your neck, his other hand slipping beneath the hem of your dress, gripping your thigh, pulling you up.

You gasped against his mouth, and he swallowed it, pressing deeper, rolling his hips against yours, letting you feel how much he had been suffering.

you whimpered softly, fingers threading through his hair, tugging—finally, finally touching him.

And he nearly lost it.

“Mine,” he whispered against your lips, voice raw, shaking.

you shivered, breathless. “Yours.”

That was all he needed.

Because you were his.

And he wasn’t letting you forget it again.

©sakuraszn! xoxo

#✎ᝰ — sakuraszn !#jujutsu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk choso #choso kamo #choso x reader #choso x y/n #choso x you #choso kamo x reader #choso x black!reader #choso x black y/n #choso x black reader #x reader

398 notes · View notes

dollfacefantasy · 11 months ago

Note

strip poker that leads to threesome with death island older boyfriend leon and his best friend chris?! reader keeps on losing and ends up half naked and left in her panties while leon and chris are both fully clothed 🥹. + degration and daddy kink (for leon) !

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader x chris redfield

summary: a game of strip poker with your boyfriend and his friend ends exactly how you'd expect would

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, threesome, oral sex (both m and f receiving), fingering, daddy kink

word count: 3k

a/n + tags: thank you so much for the request babe! i don't really know how to play poker so forgive any errors 🙏 also consider this to be sharing is caring chris & leon. i hope you enjoy how this turned out <3 @nexysworld @gor3-hound @pupthepokemonenthusiast

"That's not fair!" you whine and gesture at the older man sitting to your left at the table.

When your boyfriend had told you he wanted to invite Chris over to hang out this evening, you'd been completely supportive. You were certain this meant they were wanting a replay of the explicit activities that had transpired between the three of you a few weeks prior. You imagined yourself sitting between them at dinner, feeling their lingering gazes, hearing their hinting words. They'd guide you off to the bedroom or even spread you out right there on the table and have their way with you.

You fantasized about all the possibilities, but one thing that never crossed your mind was that they'd want to play a game of poker. Let alone a game of strip poker.

When Leon pulled out the deck of cards, you'd raised your eyebrows but tentatively agreed. They'd told you that whoever lost a hand would have to remove an article of clothing. You were interested, believing it wouldn't be too long before all three of you were naked and going at it. How wrong you had been though because in reality, it seemed this game did anything but speed things along.

It'd been over an hour, and Chris & Leon were both still fully clothed while you sat in your bra and panties.

What had prompted your outburst of whining was for the first time tonight, someone that wasn't you had lost a hand. You were excited that some progress was being made as Chris stood up to remove a piece of his clothing. But all he did was unbuckle his belt and slip it from between the loops on his jeans.

Both men chuckle at your frustration, and Leon smirks at you.

"Oh, calm down," he says, "Don't be a sore loser."

"It's not being a sore loser when you guys are like openly cheating!" you insist and lean back in your chair.

"How is he cheating, honey? He's removing his clothes isn't he?" he asks you.

"A belt isn't a piece of clothing! You didn't count my necklace when I picked that to take off," you say.

"Chris has to take off his belt to eventually get to his pants. If he had to take off both right now, that wouldn't really be fair," he says, obviously taunting you, "You didn't need to take off that necklace to get to any of your clothes."

"You made me take off both my shoes in one turn," you point out.

"Shoes are in a pair, princess. I only have one belt," Chris adds.

You huff and cross your arms, shooting the both of them with dirty looks. Despite your complaining, the three of you were all on an even playing field at the start of the game. You all had the same amount of items to lose. For the night, you had on your shoes and socks, shirt and skirt, and bra and panties. The guys on the other sides of the table had their shoes and socks, shirt and pants, and belt and underwear. You'd already lost four to put you at your remaining two.

You roll your eyes as Leon deals again, but you sit up to play. As it turns out, Chris coming up short before was a fluke because this time the bad luck was back on you. They both laugh as you throw your cards down and rub your eyes.

"You know, Leon, if you wanted me to take my clothes off, you could've just asked instead of drawing it out with this stupid game," you say.

"But it's so much more fun this way," he grins.

You glare at him while standing up to remove your clothing.

"C'mon, sweetheart. What's it gonna be? That cute ass or those gorgeous tits?" Chris taunts, lowering his tone as his words become lecherous.

You can already feel the heat starting to creep into your face. Without a word you reach behind yourself and unclasp your bra, letting the straps slip over your shoulders as you slide the lacy garment down your arms. Your breasts bounce free from their confines, and you drop it to the floor with your other things.

You're met with a whistle from Leon that cements a flustered expression on your face. Chris wears a smug look, but you can see in his eyes how he enjoys taking in your figure. Your nipples begin to pebble when exposed to the cool air.

"No need to be shy, honey. It's nothing we haven't seen before," your boyfriend teases.

"Just deal again, so we can get this over with," you say.

Sitting down inadvertently pushing your breasts together, making them stand out a bit more as if crying out for attention from either of the sets of hands in the room. It's Chris's turn to deal, but he takes a moment longer to shuffle the cards up since his eyes linger on your chest.

Another round goes by, and it's another round you lose. At least you were out of the game now, but you weren't sure what that meant. The thought of being sent off to your and Leon's room with no reward spun you out of sorts.

"Bullshit! You guys are cheating," you exclaim and drop your cards for the final time.

Both of them laugh at you. Chris shakes his head and takes his winnings from the round while Leon looks over at you.

"Watch your mouth," he says. He's teasing, but he uses a stern tone that zaps arousal right through you, "Remember whose money you're playing with, angel."

You look down when he says that. It was true that you didn't lose anything but your dignity by playing this game. Leon put up the money for the both of you.

"Your money or not, that doesn't change how many times I lost. That's like unnatural amounts of bad luck," you pout.

"Have you ever considered you might just have the worst poker face in the world?" he goads.

"I do not," you respond instantly.

"Oh yes you do," Chris interjects, "You bite your lip whenever you think you can win. Your eyes dart around whenever you feel like you're gonna lose. We can basically read your cards just from hearing your voice."

You scoff at that, but you don't really have a defense. You'd never been a good liar, especially with Leon. He chuckles at the defeat written all over you before leaning a bit closer.

"How about you come sit with me, babydoll? You can be on daddy's team," he says and pats his lap.

The rush that goes through you pulls you from your chair and over to his. He holds your hips, smiling up at you and planting a gentle kiss right above your navel.

"You still lost last round though. Gotta take these off before we can continue," he says and snaps the elastic of your panties.

You drop them to the floor and kick them to the pile of clothing next to your chair. He then takes you in his arms and gets you situated on his thighs. You lean back against his chest while he deals himself and his friend back in.

The first game without you in it is uneventful. You sit with Leon and he occasionally lays a small smooch on your cheekbone, but that's about it. You just watch him play, but at least you're getting some sort of physical contact.

He ends up winning, and Chris slips off his shoes. In a gesture of celebration, his hands come to cover your breasts and give them a squeeze. His fingers dig into the plump flesh, his palms brushing against your hardened nipples.

"You paying attention? Maybe you can learn a thing or two about winning," he murmurs against the skin of your neck.

The next game starts up as Chris sets the deck down between them. This time is a lot more interesting for you. Leon sits there, stoic as ever, but his hand drifts downward. It finds its place between your thighs, his middle digit seeking out the familiar location of your clit.

The invasion causes you to squirm slightly, but a quick pinch to your inner thigh halts your movements. Chris's eyes are switching between his cards and your increasingly aroused appearance. Your boyfriend pays his leering no mind though. The rough pad of his fingertip swirls around your bundle of nerves.

You spread your legs a little to give him more room, and you can feel his face convey his amusement against your head. His fingers rub down over your entrance, dragging some slick up over your clit. His digits slide over it with ease now, flicking back and forth over the tiny bud with lazy precision. You purse your lips to try and stifle your whimpers but little squeaks make it through now and again.

"You don't have to keep quiet, sweetheart," he whispers in your ear, "I think those pretty noises might help daddy win."

He could tell from the way Chris was shifting in his seat that he was starting to get a boner. He was getting aroused himself, but he got you all the time. He had more control. He could stave off a full erection for a little while. His friend on the other hand - he was eager to try you again.

Your head tilts back with permission and a longing breath leaves your lungs. Your breasts rise and fall with the motion, those perky nipples bobbing in a way that nearly hypnotizes Chris. All the while Leon's hand remains dedicated at the apex of your thighs. He strokes you just you like before moving his finger down to your entrance and sliding it in, grinding his palm on your swollen nub simultaneously.

"Fuck daddy," you whimper and roll your hips.

"What is it, baby? Looks like daddy's gonna win, doesn't it?" he purrs.

You nod mindlessly, not paying attention at all to the game. But whatever daddy says goes. That much you knew.

Chris is so enthralled with the sight of you unraveling on his friend's lap that he folds without a second glance at his cards. Your boyfriend chuckles at him while working his finger to the knuckle within you.

"You must have had a pretty rough hand, man," Leon jokes.

Chris's eyes flit to him. "I'm just in the mood for a different kind of fun now," he says.

"You are?" he says. He then turns his gaze to you. "What about you, dolly? You wanna have some fun with daddy's friend now?"

"Yes," you choke out as your back arches away from his chest, his digit pushing up against your internal sweet spot.

"Yeah?" he coos, "What kind? You want Chris in your pussy again? Or something else?"

Decision making isn't your strongest skill while in this frame of mind. You try to come up with an answer. As usual, Leon swoops in for you and makes the save.

"How about you use that pretty mouth on Chris?" he murmurs in your ear, "Suck on his cock while daddy gets his prize for winning."

Chris stands up once the plan is set, his bulge visible at the front of his pants. Leon gestures for him to wait though. Instead of having the older man come to the two of you, he pulls his fingers out of you and spins you around, boosting you back onto the table. You push some of the cards behind you out of the way on your way down. You end up spread across the table, happy that part of your earlier fantasy was now coming true.

Now both men stand, looking down on your nude form and taking in every curve and crux. Leon reaches forward to grope one of your tits again. He gives it a good feel before cupping it and leaning down to press some kisses around the nipple. He kisses from there over to the valley between your breasts and down your tummy. All the affection gives Chris time to shed his pants and boxers and give his cock a few languid tugs.

Leon sits in his chair again, pushing your thighs apart and looking at your glistening cunt. He leans in and kisses your clit with a feather light touch.

"Look at Chris, baby. He's got your treat waiting for you," he mumbles as he wraps his arms around your thighs and delves into his favorite luxury in the world.

You mewl but do as he tells you and turn your head. Waiting for you is Chris's heavy, flushed cock, dripping precum from the swollen tip. Your mouth waters. You'd wanted it bad last time, and now it was all yours. He reaches down to pet your head.

"That look good, princess?" he coos in a low voice.

You nod lazily, your brain fogging up with the mist of lust. Your lips part, and he pushes his hips forward, slotting his length in your mouth. You moan around the shaft, your tongue laving against the veins. His cock was thicker than your boyfriends. The difference thrilled you. You have to stretch your jaw a bit to accommodate him as he works it into your mouth. Your fingers wrap around the part you can't take.

He groans and tilts his head back. He sinks as deep as he can, unable to get enough of that soft, wet orifice.

"Fuck, honey. You're a two for one. Perfect mouth to go with that perfect pussy," he grunts.

You nod lazily and begin bobbing your head best you can while laying on your back. Chris was kind of impressed by your dedication and focus considering Leon was between your legs devouring you as if you were his final meal.

His tongue slides from his mouth and delves into your awaiting entrance. He moans as he tastes you; sweet and rich, completely addictive. As natural as sucking cock came to you, Leon's propensity to eat pussy seemed to be innate. He keeps you pressed against his face, eating you out like you're the finest delicacy he's ever tasted.

The intensity of his efforts have you whining and drooling on Chris's dick, but you keep sucking. The older man's fingers soothingly rub the back of your neck and help to guide you and pace you. Pulling back a bit, you suckle on the tip and kitten lick the head, making him grit his teeth and will himself not to blow his load right there.

"Your daddy's taught you well, babydoll," he pants before pushing you forward again till his tip nudges the back of your throat.

Both you and Leon moan when you hear that. He laps at your cunt with increased fervor now. He flattens his tongue and laves it over your throbbing clit before wrapping his lips around the little bud. You jolt and your legs jerk, but his hold on you is firm.

"Let daddy have his prize, sweet girl. Wanna taste that cum," he mutters before returning all of his attention back to your pussy.

Your whole body shudders, but you keep going for Chris. He runs his free hand through his hair and wipes at the sweat beading on his brow.

"Don't think I'm gonna last too much longer, Leon," he informs the other man.

"She won't either," he tells him, indirectly giving him the go ahead to do as he pleases.

Chris moans while beginning to rock his hips back and forth. His thrusts stay gentle, but they're just what he needs to start working him to the edge. Meanwhile Leon has your hips and legs squirming as if they're running from the release destined to catch them. He keeps you in place and keeps twirling his tongue against you.

It's Chris who cums first. His eyes flutter closed and his hips sputter, making sure he's nice and deep in your mouth when ropes of cum fire out of him. He moans and fucks it all into your awaiting throat. It's warm and sticky, and you swallow it like the good girl you are.

His eyes are hazy as he looks down at you. He's slow to pull out. When he finally does, the tip rests against your lips and you give it a few kisses. A string of saliva connects the two things when he backs away for a moment to catch his breath.

As he calms down, you spiral further into the pits of euphoria. Your back arches off the table and you claw at it so much you feel like there's gonna be scratch marks when you're finished. Leon keeps on with his task like he's being paid. He strikes the perfect balance between playing with your clit and teasing your insides that has you cumming minutes later.

Chris watches from above as you yelp. He takes in every little switch of expression on your face. Leaning down from behind you, he kisses your forehead, then your nose, then finally your lips. He captures all your lewd moans and whimpers. His nose brushes against your chin as his lips move with yours.

He cups and rubs your cheeks as you come down. Leon's movements slow down until he gives your cunt one last sloppy, lingering kiss and pulls away. Your slick covers his chin. He doesn't wipe it away before standing up and bending over to kiss you himself. You taste your pleasure on him.

Your head is still spinning as the men help you sit up on the table. Gentle touches come from all directions it seems, and you're barely able to discern who's who. It's a blissful confusion, and you wouldn't trade the feeling for anything.

When your eyes refocus, your boyfriend's gaze back into yours. Chris's lips are on your neck, laying tender kisses up the column of your throat. Leon smirks at you as his finger runs down his jawline.

"Let's go upstairs, baby. I haven't fully enjoyed my winnings yet," he whispers before carting you off to the bedroom with Chris following behind.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x y/n #chris redfield x reader #chris redfield x y/n #chris redfield x you #chris redfield imagine #chris redfield smut #resident evil x you #resident evil x reader #resident evil imagines #resident evil smut #ch: leon kennedy 💌#ch: chris redfield 💌

605 notes · View notes

ginnysgraffiti · 10 months ago

Text

coach as reader, nervous and attention-deprived art.

&. ART DONALDSON x yn.

you could sense that art was nervous just by witnessing his presence.

you could see it in the way his muscles kept tensing, in the way he kept chewing the same gum for half an hour and it would have certainly lost its taste by now, and in the way his tennis shoes kept tapping on the slippery floor of the locker room as if he was in the throes of a nervous tic.

you had been his personal coach for a while now -he begged for it- and his progress was surprisingly evident during the season's tournament.

there was to say that you were also his girlfriend, even if, lately, you refused to believe it was right to call yourself so.

despite everything, you were a coach who was paid by other high or inspiring tennis players at the foundations of the profession, and this meant that you had to show up at their tournaments and at their awards ceremonies as well.

a set of events and organizations that were meticulous or complicated to fit together, so you weren't surprised if you rarely saw art or if you barely managed to train him.

that day, he had prepared for a very important match, and unfortunately you hadn't been able to train him.

you had entrusted your boyfriend to another coach on campus, who was nevertheless capable and well informed on the work points that art had to satisfy.

at the same time, you couldn't know if during training he had kept his feet fast, his wrists down, or if he had made sure to not pull back too far before he hit the drop volley; and that made you feel horrible.

"baby...it'll be okay. you'll play amazingly." you put up a smile, sitting in front of him.

"oh yeah? that coach didn't even manage to improve my serve, to not talk about the return."

"c'on art...he's very good."

"not for me. i wanted you..." he pouted childishly, looking down.

"you know well i train other players."

"but...you had been barely around me..." he complained again, still looking at his soles nervously wearing themselves against the floor.

you got up just to put the last two rackets inside his bag and give it to him.

his expression didn't change one inch, he still looked exhausted and worn out.

you could perfectly tell that days without you had him limp and feeble.

"babe...hey, look at me."

you kneeled in front of his seat, kissing his bare knee as you waited for him to meet your gaze.

"mh?"

"you'll do amazing today. i'll be there watching and cheering for my talented boyfriend. i promise, after today's match we'll go to the hotel and spend time together. we can cuddle and watch films, and i won't go anywhere."

he seemed to hesitate a little.

"promised...?"

"promised."

your lips met in a soft and eager kiss.

as you pulled back, you fixed his blonde hair and rested one hand on his cheek.

you made sure he would spit his gum in your palm, before kissing him again and walking towards the stands to wait for the match.

#mike faist #mike faist x yn #mike faist x you #mike faist x reader #challengers #challengers 2024 #challengers movie #art donaldson #art donalson x reader #art donaldson x yn #&. ART DONALDSON #&. ART DONALDSON x yn #&. ART DONALDSON x reader

308 notes · View notes

biggrimace · 3 months ago

Text

Well Worth it | Fred Weasley

Part 1 / 2

Part: 1, 2

Summary: You are heavily pregnant with your and Fred's first child and have just gone into labour. Part 2 of "Back Pain".

Warnings: pregnant reader, description of birth, vomit mentioned.

Word Count: ~2233

—

George wasted no time in rushing you to St. Mungo's. Thankfully, the pain from the contractions was so blinding that you remember almost nothing about the ride over or even being admitted, so the chaos was lost to you. The most you remember was the frantic voice of Fred arguing with his twin about the speed he was driving, a small argument between him and the nurse at the reception desk about your room, and finally getting some heavy-duty pain-killing potions. That is the clearest memory that you have; the relief, although minor, was still incredible.

You weren't very far along, only dilated 6cm and having contractions every 5 or so minutes. Fred was doing everything he could to help you through the process and comfort you. He massaged your back, walked with you throughout the halls of St. Mungo's, provided ice chips, and constantly asked nurses and doctors for updates. The latter getting not only on yours but the staff's nerves ever so slightly. George stayed for as long as he was allowed before the staff told him to leave; Fred promising to keep him up to date on the progress as he walked him out of the room.

Mmmmmm... Freddie, this sucks...

You groaned from where you stood bent over the bed, rocking side to side as you rode through another contraction. Fred just sighed, feeling disappointed he couldn't do more for you, trying his best to comfort you with another massage. As the pain came to an end, an overwhelming sense of nausea overcame you.

I'm going to be sick again...

You whined. Fred just nodded and grabbed the bedpan. After the last hour or so of running back and forth from the bathroom, he decided it was a better method than trying to get you to the toilet in time. As you emptied the already vacant contents of your stomach into the pan, Fred sighed again, rubbing your back. He took the pan to the bathroom to clean it up, and you crawled into the hospital bed, curling onto your side.

You must be farther along now...

He muttered to himself as he walked out of the bathroom and looked you over. He couldn't help but worry about you. He hated to see you in such agony and wanted to help you feel better. Maybe if I had brought you here sooner... I should've brought you here sooner... He would think to himself repeatedly, but deep down, he knew it wouldn't have made any difference. He made his way to the door and peered outside into the hallway, desperately looking for another doctor to bother and ask to check you over.

Freddie, please... The doctor was just here, and I have not dilated anymore... Stop bothering the staff...

You pleaded less for the staff's sanity and more for your own. The constant poking and prodding make the experience more unpleasant than necessary, and you just want a moment to yourself before being bombarded by doctors again. Fred went to argue, but after seeing your misty eyes and the slight pout on your lip, he surrendered, nodding and moving to sit on the edge of the bed beside you.

I wish I could do more to help.

He sighed as he gently tucked a few stray hairs behind your ear and wiped some sweat from your forehead with a cold washcloth.

I know Freddie, you've told me a couple times now.

He released a single breathy chuckle and smiled down at you. A smile you returned as you closed your eyes in an attempt to take the time you had left before your next contraction to rest. A calming silence fell between the two of you as Fred continued to adore you in silent worry and dab at your forehead.

You're running low on Trick Wands, by the way.

Your sudden comment made him pause, his brows furrowing as he pondered whether he heard you correctly. You opened your eyes half-lidded and teasingly smiled up at him, exhaustion evident in your features.

Pardon?

He asked, still baffled, a smile rising on his face at the bizarre situation. You lifted yourself to lean on your elbow, your head being propped up by your hand.

You are running low on trick wands. You and George will have to make some more before they completely run out.

Your response was so nonchalant as if it was a simple conversation occurring over dinner, he couldn't help but chuckle.

Darling, do you realize that is not my highest priority right now?

He asked with a stunned smile, you faked a gasp and shook your head disapprovingly.

Fred Weasley, I think this is a matter of great importance. What could possibly be a bigger priority than the store's inventory?

Your question was sarcastic, of course. Fred couldn't help the laugh that arose from him, enjoying your ability to still be cheery in your state.

Well, yn. I don't know if you are aware, but our baby is currently on the way. I do believe that is far more important than inventory.

You paused and pondered for a moment before nodding and falling back into your pillow, tucking your arm underneath.

I suppose you're right.

You agreed. The both of you break out into a fit of laughs for a moment before they die down, and again, you enjoy a calm beat of silence. You close your eyes again, breathing deeply as you feel the beginning stages of another contraction. Fred leans down to kiss your forehead, and you look up into his eyes as he pulls away.

I love you, darling.

He whispers with a love-sick smile. You smile back weakly, but before you can respond, another contraction racks your body, causing you to groan. The once peaceful, laughter-filled environment is overshadowed by pain and worry once again.

—

At 9pm, you were in active labour. You were fully dilated, thankfully, and it was time to push. Fred moved himself out of the way of the many doctors and nurses who began preparing for the arrival of your baby, finding his spot at your side. He grasped your hand tightly, wrapping his other arm around your shoulders to provide more leverage for pushing. You were a mess at this point, and you looked it even though Fred was adamant that you looked amazing. Liar. You were fed up at this point and beyond frustrated, the last 12 hours of labour making you reconsider getting pregnant altogether.

This child better be worth it, Weasley.

Fred cringed slightly at the worn tone of your voice, the constant groaning and yelling from the pain taking its toll.

I promise, darling, it will be.

He reassured you, squeezing your hand and kissing your temple.

I want it out! NOW!

You screamed in frustrated exhaustion. You were done, in fact, you were done four hours ago, so now you were beyond done.

We have to wait for the next contraction before you can start pushing Mrs. Weasley, just a few more seconds.

The nurse explained in a voice that was much too cheery, making you even more annoyed. You groaned and threw your head back in displeasure, Fred whispering encouraging words to you as you waited.

Ok, push Mrs. Weasley. As hard as you can for ten seconds.

The doctor instructed; you literally felt your whole body squeezing with the contraction as you began to push. The pressure became immense, and you thought you might explode. You were sure that you were crushing Fred's hand, but you didn't care; he didn't seem to mind either, much too focused on helping you through this process.

OK perfect. Take a moment and catch your breath.

The Doctor instructed as the contraction died down. Suddenly, You felt overwhelmed. Call it fatigue, exhaustion or maybe the mind-numbing pain, but you began to panic. I can't do this. It's too much. I'm too tired. I can't do this. What if I'm a bad mother. I am a bad mother. Your mind was racing, and your breathing was picking up in a hectic way.

Mrs. Weasley, you need to relax.

The nurses tried to calm you and coach you through it, but they were no help. In fact, they made it much worse, feelings of being a failure growing as they pleaded with you. Fred could see the panic in your eyes as they darted all over the room, and between the faces of the medical staff, he could tell that you were not ok, and they were only making it worse. It was as if a primal instinct took over him.

Alright, that's enough! You're making it worse! Back off!

He stood a bit straighter, giving him a more demanding presence and stared daggers into each member of staff until they gave you some room to relax. Once he was satisfied, he turned to you.

Darling, you need to calm down, please. I need you to take a deep breath and try to relax.

His tone was quiet, trying its best to be calm but still fluctuating slightly with anxiety. You just shook your head, not even looking at him, your eyes stuck on your bump and the doctor between your legs.

I can't... I can't do this... I'm a bad mother... I can't do this...

You weren't even speaking to him; you were just babbling like you were in some kind of hypnotic trance.

Mr. Weasley, your wife needs to push again.

The doctor addressed Fred. He nodded and turned back to you.

You can. You've already done so much. This is the last bit of it. You can do this, and we are going to have our baby, and you are going to be an incredible mother. Please yn.

He pleaded.

Mrs. Weasley!

The doctor called. You turned to Fred, looking for some kind of reassurance. He offered a loving smile and a quick nod.

I love you, darling. You can do this.

He reassured. You took a few deep breaths, staring into his eyes before nodding and turning to the doctor.

You must push Mrs. Weasley.

He demanded, trying his best to be understanding and patient. You nodded and tightened your grip on Fred's hand before taking a deep breath and beginning to push again.

—

It took an hour and a half of pushing before your baby girl was born. She came out screaming; you wouldn't be surprised if she woke the whole hospital. Fred was a mess of tears, wearing a wide and proud smile as he watched the doctors lift her from between your legs. You ushered him to follow as they went to clean her up, not wanting him to take his eyes off of her since you were preoccupied with the aftercare of giving birth. Now it was around 1 in the morning, you and her had been taken care of, and the medical staff had left the room, allowing some privacy for your new family. You held her delicately in your arms, staring down at her beautiful face and petting it softly with your forefinger. Fred sat beside you on the bed, one arm around you and his other hand running along her full head of hair.

You were right, Freddie. She was well worth it.

You admitted as you adored your daughter. There was a beat of silence before Fred spoke up.

You did wonderful yn.

He whispered, neither of you taking your eyes from the baby; you chuckled as tears began to gather in your eyes.

Well, you did help. I didn't make her alone, you know?

You said, causing him to chuckle. He gently grabbed your head with his free hand, pulled it to his lips, and planted a kiss on your temple.

I mean it, you were incredible.

He was so genuine in his remark. You turned towards him, and after seeing the incredible amount of love and adoration that he held in his eyes, you couldn't help the tears that began to escape.

Thank you, Freddie. But I mean it, too. I couldn't have done it without you.

He teared up at this, smiling, he whispered.

I love you.

You smiled back, leaning in to give him a peck on the lips before whispering.

I love you, too.

The both of you took in the moment before turning back towards your daughter. Fred noticed after a while that you were growing tired and offered to take the first watch over the baby. With a short laugh, you agreed, kissing her softly before handing her off and settling into your hospital bed. Fred moved to the armchair beside your bed. He was nervous holding her at first, worried he might break or drop her, but after a few moments, he grew very comfortable with it. Confident even. He couldn't keep his eyes off of her, falling more and more in love with her every second they were together.

Hello, my love, It's Daddy, I hope you recognize my voice. I just wanted to tell you that I am so happy you are finally here... Your Mummy did a wonderful job bringing you into this world. I am so proud of her...

He looked up at you, happy to see you getting some good rest, then back to his daughter who yawned.

We both love you very much. Get some sleep, my love. Daddy's here... Always.

—

For more fics: biggrimace

#fluff #x reader #fred wealsey fic #fred weasely x y/n #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasly x reader #harry potter fandom #harry potter x reader #harry potter fanfiction #the weasleys #weasley #weasley twins #wizarding world #dad!fred

112 notes · View notes

julesnichols · 30 days ago

Text

Okay bear with me here because I've got brain fog and tend to word salad but I'm gonna try my fucking best--

Everyone who insists that shipping/romance isn't the point of Severance and that anyone who ships is missing the REAL point about what capitalism does is also missing the fucking point, because it's BOTH

Because yes, it's about what capitalism does and the evils of giant corporations. But it's also about love, and specifically two things about love:

1. That falling in love when you're not supposed to, when you're trapped in hell, is one of the most revolutionary things you can do in a system that wants to crush you into dust. In a system that wants you to obey, loving somebody instead of giving in or giving up IS the most revolutionary choice you can make. This corporation can tell you that you're less than human, they can torture you, but you can still carve out a life and a family and find romantic love, too

and

2. That you cannot create a version of yourself that exists solely to do labor for his entire life so that you can cease to exist for forty hours of the week to escape your grief, and not face the consequences of that action

I think I've made my point about the first one enough as is, so let me just get into the second a bit more:

Mark Scout was choking on his grief over losing Gemma. He drowned himself in alcohol to cope, and either lost or left his job that he loved. He took a job that involved brain surgery to split his consciousness in half rather than confront his grief head on; he can choose not to exist for forty hours of his week, and spend the other hours either drunk out of his mind or asleep (the consequences of drinking being something that bleed into his innie as well).

I think that anyone who's dealt with a traumatic and painful loss can relate to why he would do such a thing. Isn't it understandable, if you had a way to not exist for a while, that you would take it without hesitation? That if you were drowning and confronting it would mean more pain before it got better, you'd run from it if you could?

But what Severance wants us to do is go beyond sympathizing with Mark Scout: it asks us to consider the consequences. Because in severing himself for a reason people can sympathize with him for, he created a version of himself that exists solely to work for his entire life, with no breaks, no rest, and torture tactics when he fucks up-- no matter how small the fuck up may be.

A version of himself without his memories, who has trickles of his grief but none of the love to go with it. Who falls in love with someone he meets down there, because Mark S. was created so that Mark Scout could avoid his grief and his love for Gemma. And thus, Mark S. moved on, because he never knew anything else.

Then Mark Scout finds out that Gemma is alive. He reintegrates without his innie's consent, because he views Mark S. as inferior to him and entitled to his memories. Their relationship is inherently exploitative.

Mark S. and Helly's relationship progresses further. Helena Eagan stalks Mark Scout. And here's something that gets me: you have to have your head buried six feet deep in the fucking sand to not see that they were flirting.

A sane person would've run when Helena awkwardly bragged about who she was and offered to bring Mark Scout to her father. But Mark Scout escalates it, turning it into a flirtatious joke about her taking him home to dad. And yes, he does ultimately go for more brain surgery because he feels guilty and spooked that he was flirting with Helena. Because he escalated the flirting.

Again, you have to be deep in denial to not see that. It relates back to the point about how he feels entitled to his innie's memories and experiences: he feels guilty and unsettled, so he tries to absorb more of them in hopes of more glimpses of Gemma to help him find and save her.

Again, can't you sympathize with that?

And again, the show asks you to consider the ramifications beyond that.

(note: I am on the side that innies and outies aren't cut and dry separate people as they are the same base people with different memories and lived experiences, akin to amnesia)

The first thing that Mark Scout remembers is Mark S. having sex with Helly, specifically as he watches her orgasm for the first time while he's inside of her. An extremely intimate moment, and it's intentional that it's that and not another flash of Gemma. Because the show, once again, is asking the audience to consider the consequences of Mark Scout's actions in severing himself.

And Mark S. recognizes that Mark Scout is exploiting him at the end! Mark Scout demands he find Gemma, save her, and be willing to die (because even if he reintegrates, NEITHER of them will be the same-- I'll come back to this in a sec). He belittles what Mark S. has with Helly and the life he's made for himself. He dehumanizes him. Because Mark Scout created Mark S. to escape, to do labor for him, and again-- he wanted to use him to get Gemma and then cast him aside, furthering how he dehumanizes and exploits him... and there are consequences to that action.

Back to the thing about reintegration I said I'd get back to: the characters within show, and quite frankly a large swath of the audience, thinks that it's Mark Scout absorbing Mark S.'s memories, and just still being Mark Scout with those memories. And yet, the show has shown us that this isn't the case. Petey says his earliest memories of the severed floor feel as far back as his childhood! What I think reintegration does, is create a new version of innie and outie, with both their memories. And that it's probably reliant more on harmony of goals and desires than forcing it; but again, the outies view the innies as inferior. Even the people in the show who claim to advocate against severance don't consider the innies human enough to consider what'll happen to them.

And so of course Mark S. chooses himself for the first time in his life at the end of the season. Because once again, the show asks you to look beyond the surface and consider the consequences.

And yet, too much of the audience also subconsciously (or consciously sometimes tbh) thinks of innies as subhuman, and miss the entire fucking point. Yes, there are obnoxious shippers; there always fucking are in large fandoms, use the block button as God intended. But you are being equally obnoxious and obtuse if you insist that the show does not want us to consider love and romance, too. Because again, it's about both the evils of capitalism and how revolutionary love can be, and how you cannot escape your actions. You cannot separate those two themes, because the show uses the romances in the show as vehicles to explore the evils and consequences of capitalism.

So stop fucking saying everybody who ships things doesn't understand the show, and actually watch it yourself, because clearly you don't either.

#severance #fandom wank #anyone who tries to clown will end up in the clown car btw (my blocklist)#argue with a wall and die mad about it tbh #sick of pretentious assholes acting superior bc they don't ship things #like ok 👍 great 👍 good for you 👍#you don't have to ship things ofc #but don't act like you're superior for it or that the show doesn't want you to consider these romances #and feel conflicted things #bc you cannot separate the vehicle they're using to explore these themes from from said themes

83 notes · View notes

thefandomsfervent · 5 months ago

Text

Personal Pigments Viktor x Reader (Part 2) - Burnt Umber

Find the premise and first part of the fix here. Find my imagine that inspired it here. Thank you for reading <3

╔═*✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧-✦-✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧*═╗

An enforcer led you down the long hallway. Your footsteps echo out of time with his. You were supposed to have met with the Dean two hours ago but Piltover’s council had a meeting that ran long. You can’t imagine the stress of all those titles, yet it still irks you that he barely spoke to you before passing you off to an enforcer promising to “be there in the turn of a cog.” Something about the enforcer’s gruff sigh tells you he must say that a lot. The air of the hallways seems still, and you can’t tell if your nervousness is what puts an eerie feeling on your walk or the lack of people. For a city of progress, you figured the Academy would have more bustling inside the walls. But you do appreciate the peace, hands tracing the spine of your portfolio as you follow alongside the man in blue.

“Is it usually this empty?” You chance the question.

“Mm, it’s break season ma’am. You’ll see more people in a couple weeks.” Right. This was technically a school. Students would be making up most of the populace.

“Do you enjoy the quiet?” Small talk attempted.

“I do.” The same sigh he let out in the Professor’s company follows the two words. Small talk denied.

You hum in acknowledgment, tightening your grip on your portfolio. The awkward silence that follows is broken up by sounds of boots on tile, someone ahead of you. Another enforcer by the looks of it, she glances at you before giving your guide a terse nod. He returns the gesture before slowing his pace in front of a door. He waves his hand towards it and starts walking away.

“Shouldn’t we wait for the Dean?” Mostly you just didn’t want to be left alone in this huge building for another hour if the Dean loses track of time again. Another sigh, much more exasperated than the last two. He turns around to face you, annoyance on his face.

“The Dean,” he practically hisses the word, “will be here eventually. Do not wander, just wait here.”

You just nod as he turns around again. Damned enforcers. This day is off to a wonderful start. He goes around a corner a dozen feet away and you drop your shoulders. You didn’t realize that your jaw was clenched either, opening your mouth to unflex the muscle. After waiting about ten minutes and not seeing anyone the annoyance of the day settles in your feet. You’ve kept an eye on either end of the hallway and go to lean against the wall when you realize the lab door isn’t fully shut. The locks are half jutting out, keeping one door barely propped open. You knock on it, hoping someone was in there. For company to pass time with, or to at least introduce yourself to the duo you were hoping to spend the foreseeable future with.

“Anyone in there?” You say against the crack in the door. Nothing. The doors are heavy though, and you half wonder if anyone could even hear you. Tucking your portfolio under one arm you reach for the handle and give it a tug. Like it takes convincing, it takes a moment before it moves.

“Hello?” Your voice isn’t loud but it startles the man inside, a head of fluffy brown whipping up from his work.

“Who are you?” The man is sitting at a desk and abruptly stands, reaching for a cane propped up next to him.

Viktor hears those heavy doors open, and he’s expecting Jayce. Heimerdinger or even Councilor Medarda would have been expected over this person in front of him. You don’t have time to give him a reply before a voice answers.

“This is Miss L/N. It seems I’ve lost track of this particular project, but she’ll be here to work with you boys.” Heimerdinger shuffles in behind you and Jayce behind him.

“What? With all due respect Professor we don’t need more minds for Hextech. Viktor and I have it covered.” He walks past you and stands next to Viktor. The lithe man nods curtly.

“You misunderstand me, she is here in accordance with a collaborative project with the Arts Institute.” The yordle turns to face you. “I am sorry my dear, I was supposed to have briefed them days ago, but as you know a scientist’s mind can be full of conclusions just waiting to be reached. We do not always fully think about the paths to get there.” He gives the two men a knowing look and you offer a small smile in return. “Perhaps you could explain it better.” He gestures to your portfolio still tucked under your arm.

“Yes, I, uh,” You reach for it, fingers undoing the string that keeps it shut. “Your Hextech invention has sparked a lot of conversations across Academia as I’m sure you know. So much that it reached the Arts Institute. It seems that the Academy has been looking for a new art hall, several of my peers are meeting with your best students and researchers here.” You gesture to a relatively clean table with a “May I?”

Viktor just looks at you but Jayce nods and Heimerdinger finds a step ladder to stand on. You begin to remove several papers from the carrier you’ve brought with you. A few blueprints of a new art hall, some letters from the Academy and from the Arts Institute, and finally some of your work.

“The idea is the artists will make entirely new pieces for the gallery hall that’s to be unveiled at an eventual Progress Day, to do that we stay close with the scientists. It’s thought of as both an experiment and a hopefully beneficial relationship.” Viktor steps closer, cane tapping lightly on the tile of the lab floor. He picks up one the blueprints, his amber eyes scanning them over before handing them to Jayce.

“And what exactly about this relationship would be beneficial?” He asks, he is looking over the letters now. It doesn’t go unnoticed by you that he hasn’t even looked at the art you’ve brought with you, or really you for that matter. Jayce is still looking over the blueprints when you answer Viktor.

“Mixing the Arts and Sciences, new ideas for both groups? On a larger level it helps both schools with funding and connections. It can help smaller artists get out there, being in an Academy art hall is huge and can get them connections to very profitable commissions and galleries. As for you inventors, it can memorialize you and your accomplishments. It gives your work a face! Er, well, faces in this case.”

“We have no need for this,” he’s shaking his head. ‘Hextech is to better lives, not be some glorified art project.” he flicks the corner of a letter. The dismissal stings, but you know something he doesn’t.

“I am sorry my boys, but it is a non negotiable! Hextech may be to better lives, but it has caught a lot of attention. This is only the first step to controlling its image in a public way. You boys will be doing more dinners and speeches and galas and the like. It comes with the territory, trust me.” You notice he gesticulates a lot, and it's honestly endearing. His small fur covered hands moving around with one finger in the air.

“The sentiment is appreciated, Professor, but what does Art have to do with us or Hextech.” Jayce asks as he puts the blueprints down and takes the letters from Viktor’s hands.

“Art and Science have always mixed!” You do your best to subdue the frustration rising in your chest. “Take fractals, golden ratio, your craftsmanship starts with craftsmen. Surgeons learned how to create sturdier and safer stitches from fiber artists. If what the Dean has told me is true, you both should know better than anyone that sometimes an extra perspective is all that it takes for an idea to shine.” Heimerdinger gestures to your work with both hands, nodding his head encouragingly. When they both start looking at the pictures of your larger paintings and the smaller scale sketches on the table you try to keep speaking with the same confidence.

“As you may have read in the letters, it’ll also be good to secure you more investors. You guys are going to need promotional materials as well. Not everyone who wants a piece of your pie can make the journey to Piltover but they want some of it regardless. It can be expensive trying to make progress, adding your faces or prettying up proposals can help secure that. Council support is one thing, but you also need the support of people.”

They still haven’t said anything, just sharing looks as they spread the images out on the table.

You wring your hands together behind your back. This is stressful, and you’d like to go back to the institute soon. “To be honest with you, I’m one of several candidates to do your painting. If you don’t like my work, my style, what have you, I’ll leave. But someone else will be back to bother you two at some point about it.”

A silent beat passes, and you’re wondering if the walk here was even worth it. Eventually they both lift their heads from the table and Heimerdinger leans towards them expectantly. You try not to do the same. Jayce looks at Viktor and the pale man gives a simple nod. He turns to you, and what he says has you sighing in relief.

“What do you need from us?"

╚═*✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧-✦-✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧*═╝

---------------.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ Part 1-.-Part 3.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .----------------

------------‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙· Master Fic List *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊--------------

#this is going to be a SLOW burn #y'all here me out #i yearn for this man #he will be YEARNING #also #who designed all that promo material of jayce.#more on this later in the fic #fanfic #fanfiction #x reader #arcane #viktor arcane #viktor league of legends #viktor lol #cross posted on ao3 #fem reader #viktor my beloved #viktor x reader #viktor x you

123 notes · View notes

redsrooftopprincess · 1 month ago

Note

Hello! I hope ur day is going well 😊😊

I was wondering if I could possibly request the bay boys and fem human reader (platonic)...she's been spending less and less time at the lair, and being secretive. April says that this is something that most teenagers do, but the guys can't shake the feeling that reader is hiding something from them.

So, one night, they decide to follow her. And imagine their surprise when they found out that the reader has a bf! Whewwww I can just imagine that the guy is going to start shitting bricks when they find out that the brothers that reader so lovingly talks about, are actually 4 humanoid turtles that will break him in half if he so much as hurts their little sister

(For this, can the reader be 18-19, and the guys are in the early 20's)

Little Sister

No warnings

"She's hiding something."

"Of course she's hiding something, Leo. She's a teenager." April replies with the strained patience of an exasperated older sibling.

"And you're sure she's safe?"

"For the fifth time, Leo, yes." She pinches the bridge of her nose and sighs, "If you're really that worried, you can ask her tonight." Putting her phone on speaker, she sets it on the desk next to her, she has an interview in about six hours she had to be prepared for. "Just please don't get… how you get."

"And what exactly is that supposed to mean?" he asks. She can hear his scowl through the phone.

"You know exactly what it means, Leo," she replies without inflection. "If you get authoritative on her you're just going to push her further away."

...

You're already twenty minutes late and the boys are getting worried. The living room has been prepared with pillows and blankets piled on the floor and high on the couch, a coffee table covered in so many snacks and drinks that it almost looks like they're levitating, two humans, four turtles, and one old rat, who all look up as Donnie announces, "She's on her way down," to everyone's relief.

"Hi! Sorry!" you call as you rush into the lair, "lost track of time."

"Yeah?" Raphael pipes up from his spot on the couch, "seems to be happening a lot lately." April shoots him a look. he raises a brow in challenge, but she says nothing.

"Yeah, heh," you try to play off casually. You ignore the eyes on you as you step into the living room and set your backpack down beside the couch, "life's just been busy, I guess. So what are we watching?"

Your attempt to quickly change the subject is missed by no one. Thankfully, they let it go, and the discomfort eventually eases as the movie progresses, a shitty B-Sci-fi/Horror that Mike picked out. By the end of the movie everything seems back to normal. Until you stand up to leave.

You usually stay a while after to hang out, or have Donnie help you with your homework. It was barely 8:30. They exchange glances.

"Heading out already?" Leo asks with a raised eyebrow.

You sling your backpack over your shoulder, "Yeah, I've got a study group tonight. Physics."

"It's Saturday," Mike argues.

"It's the only day we could all find that worked, and I think," you carefully step around Mikey and Donnie, "I should care a little bit more about my grades than about 'kickin' it with my besties'," you mock.

April rolls her eyes, she said it once, months ago, and you will still not let it go.

"You know, if you're having trouble in physics…" Don starts.

"Later guys! Gotta go!" you interrupt, calling over your shoulder as you hurry out of the lair.

The echo of the door closing rings in the silent space. The turtles remain where they are, their eyes moving from the door to their father who nods once and they stand and begin tidying up very efficiently.

"So… are we not gonna do anything about that, or…" Casey asks in the awkward silence.

Leo smirks, gathering a stack of paper plates destined for the trash, "we're giving her a head start."

…

Cuddled up in bed and comfortable, your boyfriend's arm wrapped around your shoulders, you're sharing memes on your phone when you suddenly feel him freeze.

"Babe…?" You question, sitting up and looking at him. His eyes are fixed on something outside the window, as the hand not around you reaches for the miniature NY Yankee's baseball bat on the side of the bed. You follow his eyes out the window and catch a flash of orange disappear beyond the frame. You grit your teeth. Overprotective jerks. Can't you have any kind of life? You place your hand on his leg, squeezing to get your boyfriend's attention, "babe, it's fine-"

"Stay here," he interrupts, climbing out of bed.

Oh no.

You stand up quickly after him, "Babe, really, it's fine. It's just-"

"Get behind me," he says, placing himself between you and the window, and squinting out into the darkness. "We know you're out there," he calls, as bravely as a boy barely dancing along the edge of manhood can, "we don't want any trouble," he says, "if you leave now, we won't call the cops."

He doesn't catch the quickly silenced sniggering from the other side of the glass, but you do, and you are filled with all the the rage and resentment of an untrusted younger sister. You huff a deep breath and cross your arms over your chest, "Mikey, get the the hell in here and stop terrorizing my boyfriend," you order.

Your boyfriend's head spins around to look at you, thoroughly confused then whips back around to the window when it begins sliding open in the casement. You watch his eye widen with a mixture of terror and confusion, and you're immediately worried you've made a horrible mistake.

One, followed by the usual three other hulking figures, enters from the darkness, and soon your boyfriend's small bedroom is "standing room only." You're glaring at each one of them, they don't seem fazed, Raph even smirks. He's almost proud of you for challenging them. They stand in a line, arms crossed, examining your boyfriend silently, who is almost dizzy with how fast his head is spinning between you and your big brothers.

"What the hell?" you yell after a moment, "You followed me??? Are you fucking serious??? Do you assholes trust me at all???"

Leo's gaze shifts to yours. "Study group," he says simply.

Oh, right. You had actually lied to them. You sigh heavily, deflating, but only a little.

"You've been sneaking around, Y/N," Mikey points out, "we were worried."

"That, and you've never needed help with physics in your life," Donatello adds, giving you a look. You mentally kick yourself, you could have said almost any other subject and it would have been plausible.

"So, you gonna introduce us, or what?" Raphael inclines his head in the young man's direction, smug smirk planted firmly on his dumb face.

You sigh again, still annoyed. the righteous indignation of a teenager is a powerful thing, "Guys, this is my boyfriend James, James this is Leo, Donnie, Mikey, and Raph."

James' wide eyes meet yours, "These…" he starts, before clearing his throat and trying again, "These, are your brothers?"

"That's right, toothpick," Raphael says, once again gaining his full attention as he places his own toothpick between his lips, and shifts it to the side of his mouth. Your boyfriend's eyes follow the action and he swallows, Raphael's smirk grows.

You like James, you might even love him, and there are some pretty damn good reasons for that. James realizes he has a decision to make. He loves you. He's pretty sure you're the first girl he's ever loved, and he's really not interested in loving anybody else, and if he's really in it for the long haul, that's going to means some things…

He takes a deep breath and stands tall, smoothing his hands over the front of his t-shirt, he then holds his hand out to the blue banded bara directly in front of him, introducing himself "like a man," the way his dad taught him before he left for deployment. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Sir. I assure you, I respect and love your sister very much, and I hope in time I can prove myself to be worthy of her."

The practiced lines are clumsy, but heartfelt, and the corner of Leonardo's mouth turns up slightly, as he grasps the boy's hand with his own. "I hope that, too. For your sake," tugging gently on his arm and pulling him in conspiratorially, he quietly informs him with a smile, "if you fuck this up, we're going to be the least of your worries. We've been training her to hurt people since she could walk."

Leo's smile widens when the boy glances in your direction, not in fear, but in respect and admiration. He's starting to like this kid.

...

Tag list

@thelaundrybitch @the-cauldron-witch @fyreball66 @ninnosaurus @tmntngl @thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos @zagreustomb @ramiell @silverwatergalaxy @gornackeaterofworlds @daedric-sorceress @sophiacloud28 @iridescentflamingo @milykins @sacred-holy-light @celeste-clearwater-06 @pheradream-15

#tmnt #tmnt bayverse #tmnt leonardo #tmnt raphael #tmnt donatello #tmnt michelangelo

60 notes · View notes

luvjunie · 2 years ago

Text

— Unforgettable ( 2 )

part one • part two • part three • part four

pairing: e-1610!miles x fem!reader

contains: plot progression, budding feelings, a little plot twist

summary: a bump in with a certain boy at the bodega threatens to ruin your previously perfect afternoon until he offers to fix it. you assumed things would end there, and then you ran into him again. wc: 2,479

a/n: this was done a while ago but i wasn’t satisfied so i kept revising it 😭

prev | next

You honestly thought that this would be like any other time, that this wouldn’t become anything more than a few imessage games, or some tedious snaps back and forth.

The same old story. A guy thinks you’re cute, gets your number, you guys talk for a little while and then eventually, they fade into the blur with the other failed advancements of your past.

You thought he would be like any other guy. A guy who texts you at odd hours of the night with only one thing on his mind. A guy who fills your head with the false hope of things progressing anywhere past those three, god-forsaken letters used to ask what you were up to.

But your first conversation lasted for multiple hours and you hadn’t even realized. It was like you’d skipped the stranger phase and become best friends in mere moments, like you’d known him for years and were simply catching up. You were so caught up in him until you’d looked up to check the time in the top left corner of your phone and read ‘12:02 AM’ , the small numbers leaving you lost as you thought back to where the time had run off to.

As the days went on and you found yourself glued to your phone more than usual, you realized he was was nothing like those other boys. So far from it you were reminded that ones who genuinely liked you for who you were instead of what you could offer them actually existed.

And everytime you visited that same corner store, whether it was to pick up a few quick groceries or dry goods upon your parent’s request, you secretly hoped you’d run into him, though it took you a little while to admit that fact to yourself. Your head always remained on a swivel in a place like Brooklyn, but more often than not you’d actually been on the lookout for a certain face. Doubtful as always, you tried to remind yourself that it was probably only you who felt this way.

To say you were surprised when bump-ins turned into questions about what the other was doing for the rest of the day would be an understatement. Suddenly the two of you had plans you hadn’t anticipated, the best kind of plans because they were spontaneous, exciting and spawned in the moment from the sudden realization that you wanted to remain in this person’s company. Then hangouts started getting more frequent, and glances towards the other started lasting longer, staying longer, and ending in an erupting fit of shy giggles and laughs to distract from the rapid beating of your hearts. Soon he started insisting you walked on the inside of the sidewalk and him closest to the street when the two of you were together, ‘just in case’. And your hands would brush against the other as the two of you walked, sometimes on accident, others on purpose. You couldn’t find a word to describe the way you felt when your fingers stopped jutting away at the slightest of contact with each other, but instead intertwined. Maybe ‘euphoric’ would do your fluttering heart enough justice.

And before you knew it, you’d wake up in the morning, not just expecting or hoping a text from him would be on your lock screen, but knowing it would be there. Knowing that when you’d respond to him, and tell him that you did sleep well and you hoped he had too, he’d respond back with those words you’d happily grown used to hearing from him and him only.

“I miss you.”

And that’s when you realized that Miles Morales was not just ‘any’ guy.

—

A month and a half.

You’d known this boy for all of a month and a half, and somehow you were already accompanying him to the front door of his parents’ apartment.

But honestly, it was neither of your faults. The both of you were hanging out, slushees in hand and the conversation lively and he didn’t want it to end. Neither of you did, so you kept finding more things to talk about.

He offered to walk you home once the two of you finished your slushees, and he knew he’d have to pass his building on the way but he couldn’t care less. Miles would walk across town if it meant he could be around you longer, and he just wanted to make sure you were home safe.

The two of you had barely passed the building when his mother, who was on the fire escape watering her plants spotted her son strolling with a girl she’d yet to meet, and she just couldn’t contain her excitement.

She yelled down to him that she was making dinner, and that he better bring ‘his cute little girlfriend’ up with him. That woman’s voice could carry quite the distance, so it was without a doubt in her mind that her son heard her once she witnessed how he stopped dead in his tracks. It caught you by surprise, but what confused you even more than the random woman shouting over your head was how willing you were to accept the label she’d just given you.

You blinked upwards, lips rolled inward and silence falling over the two of you for a beat until you spoke up.

“Was that—“

“My mom? Mm-hm.”

“Did she just call me your girlfriend?” You stifled a giggle.

He sighed and rubbed the side of his face, obviously embarrassed at his mother’s forwardness.

“I think so, yeah. I’m sorry about that, she’s—“

“No, no, it’s fine. Really.” You shrugged, then flashed him a smile, one he was glad to see. “At least she called me cute.”

—

Now, here you were, nervously chewing at the inside of your lip as you climbed the stairwell, glancing over at Miles every few seconds to see if he was as close to shitting his pants as you were. He was, hands shoved into his pockets and gaze set straight, as if he would trip and fall if he didn’t plan out exactly where to plant his feet on the steps.

Your original plan was to go home, change into some comfy clothes and crawl into your bed to watch Criminal Minds and indulge in the ridiculous crush you had on Spencer Reid, but now you’d somehow gotten wrapped into playing girlfriend to a boy you actually wouldn’t mind having as your boyfriend, at all.

You weren’t anywhere near ready to unpack that, so you broke through your thoughts with the one floating in the back of your mind.

“What if they don’t like me?” you blurted nervously.

“They will.” Miles sounded sure of his answer, his tone upped a positive pitch.

You hated how notorious men were for giving such vague and simple answers that often did nothing to ease your worries. What if he was just saying that?

“Well, do they usually like the… Uh,” You struggled to find the right term to describe the both of you. “Friends? Peers? You bring around?” You adjusted your crop top as much as you could, mentally cursing yourself for not choosing the crewneck you’d rudely swept past in your wardrobe earlier.

“Ehh…” He shot you a look you couldn’t quite read and turned his hand in a so-so motion, which only increased the intensity of your anxiety. “But you’re different, I can tell.”

“What does that even mean?” you exclaimed, ready to turn around and go back down the stairs. “I can’t do this.”

“Yes you can!” In the midst of a laugh, Miles grabbed your arm before you could make a break for it and gently brought you to a stop in front of his door. “They’re not gonna eat you, just be yourself.” He reassured you— warm, honey hued eyes catching yours in the way they did when you’d first met him. “I like you, so I know they will too, okay?”

Something in the way he was looking at you made you feel as if there was a longing within his words, something he wanted to tell you but didn’t know how to word, and you found it easy to believe him.

You glanced down at your hand that somehow had fallen into his and allowed yourself a breath. “Alright, I’m ready.”

—

After dinner had gone so well, you felt ridiculous for being nervous to meet his parents in the first place. They were probably the sweetest couple you’d ever met.

When they asked how the two of you met, you struggled to hold back your laughter at Miles’ facial expression as you informed them that you two didn’t go to the same school, and that you’d actually met him after he made you drop your lunch on the floor. Rio teased him for it, and dove into a multitude of instances where his clumsiness got the best of him, and eventually that conversation led you all down the rabbit hole of how her and Jeff met.

“I worked in this little coffee shop after class,” Rio smiled to herself as she recalled back to her young years. “And Miles’ father would come in everyday and order the same exact thing. A chocolate chip muffin—.”

“And a caffé americano with two splendas.” They stated at the same time, and Jeff’s brows raised when he looked over at his wife unbelievingly.

“Honey, how’d you remember that?”

“I remember everything.” Rio grinned proudly, and you swore you were kicking your feet under the table.

Miles had heard this recanted almost a million times and was nearly dying from boredom, while you on the other hand sat and listened intently, chin propped in your hands and your attention unwavering throughout the rest of their story. His parents were the spitting image of the kind of love you saw in those old shows and movies in the 90s, the kind of love you unfortunately never got to see between your own parents.

A kind of love so deep rooted and engrossed in the way they acted with each other that it gave you a glimpse of their younger selves; how in love they were back then reflecting onto now, even through their playful bickering and scolding when the other asked you too many questions about yourself.

“Your parents are the cutest.” You’d whispered to Miles, a laugh hidden behind your hand when Rio swatted Jeff with a kitchen towel.

“Please don’t encourage them.” He joked.

You offered to help Rio with the plates once you all had finished eating, but she insisted that you were a guest, and shooed you off with a big smile. Miles gritted a hushed complaint at her with wide eyes as he ushered you away but his mom couldn’t care less, she was just happy to finally see her son taking interest in someone again.

His room was nice, had a cozy, lived-in feel to it while still remaining tidy. It was colorful and resemblant of who’d you grown to know him as, and the walls were decorated with some graphic posters that you took notice of while he hurriedly tossed the pink teddy bear on his bed into his closet. Random papers pinned to the wall here and there gave you glimpses into the sketchbook you knew he had. Art was something he talked about so passionately whenever he got the chance, especially when the both of you would pass by some graffiti tags depending on where you walked.

“Your room definitely screams you.” you nodded.

“That’s a good thing, right?”

He made himself comfortable on his bed and you settled for the swivel chair beside his desk, and when your eyes scanned over the surface and caught sight of a red milk crate filled with what you assumed were vinyl records, your interest was quickly piqued. “No way, are these vinyls? How many do you have?” You gaped and leaned forward, ready to find out for yourself. “These are so cool!”

Your fingers gently combed through his impressive collection as he laid on his back, throwing a small ball he’d found on the floor up into the air above him, then catching it with his open hand when it came back down.

Miles couldn’t stop looking at you the entirety of dinner, and hadn’t realized he’d even been doing so until he looked down at his plate to see he was much farther behind than everyone else. He’d direct his eyes elsewhere only for them to fall back on how enamored you were with everything he held close to him, then his mind would follow suit and drift off into thoughts of how well you fit into his little bubble almost immediately, and how enamored he was with you. With how your nose would crinkle when you smiled or your eyes would light up as soon as you heard something that interested you, or how you’d made his mom laugh so hard that she snorted, something she hadn’t done in years.

The feeling you gave him was weird, the kind of weird that you welcomed after deeming it safe enough to stay. The kind of feeling that made his brain foggy and had him mulling over the right words to say and the right things to do in hopes you’d like him as much as he did you.

“My mom really likes you.” he informed suddenly, so deep in his thoughts that he’d completely tuned out what you said. It was a way for him to test the waters, to gauge your reaction through something he figured you knew by now, and just maybe you’d see past the terrible disguise he’d posed to timidly introduce his own feelings.

“Really?” you tried not to sound too excited when you looked back at him, hands gently pulling from the records to settle back in your lap.

His wrist flicked, propelling the ball into the air above him once more. “Of course she does,”

Your eyes mindlessly followed the ball when you asked. “How do you know?”

“Didn’t you see her face?” He laughed. “I promise once you leave, she won’t shut up about you.”

You grinned sheepishly, and went to tuck a stray braid behind your ear. “I couldn’t have made that good of an impression.”

“You had her approval as soon as you called her Mrs. Morales.”

Your head tilted in question, eyes panning to the ceiling in thought. “Isn’t that normal? Calling someone’s parent by their last name?”

A comfortable silence settled, just for a moment.

“You’d think so.” A smile curled Miles’ lips, the memory of when he’d introduced the first girl he’d ever liked to his parents flashing into his mind; his interest in tossing the ball paused momentarily as images from the past flooded his thoughts.

Wait… Why was he thinking about her?

taglist: @burymeinside @secret-ssociety @whatamidoing89 @urmotherswhor3 @valovesyou @inlovewithfictionalppl @edgyficuselastica @motherwanda @mybfmiles @dracohatesyou @axeoverblade @miumiulicious @sukisprettyface @decapitadedyoshi @gwennesy @simpnotapimp @kanvis @cleo-dearts @wonylvxz @asimpwhohatedlife @toneystank-3000

(some tags didn’t work, sorry!)

#junie’s works ᥫ᭡#across the spiderverse fanfiction #miles morales x reader #1610 miles morales x reader #1610 miles x reader #miles morales x black!reader #miles morales fanfiction #miles morales x y/n #miles morales x fem!reader #miles morales x you

1K notes · View notes

lvlyghost · 1 year ago

Text

pairings: simon riley x f!reader

summary: reader suffers from a chronic illness and ghost finds out.

wc: 1.1k

tw: chronic pain, chronic illness, slight angst i think, comfort. not edited and not proofread. that's it.

a/n: sorry y'all i'm struggling a lot with writer's block lately so i'm writing these silly little things to help me out of it so don't mind me!

By the moment Ghost enters his shared office he's frowning so hard that he fears it might leave a permanent mark on his forehead. The first day wasn't unusual as it was normal for soldiers, technicians and federal agents to come and go. Gaz is humming under his breath and greets him with a slight nod when he spots him but he barely returns the gesture. His desk is full of reports waiting to be filled some labeled 'Urgent' in big red letters.

Sitting down he manages to get done the first stack of papers but his mind was lost elsewhere barely paying attention to the work he never had trouble getting done in no time. Part of him wonders if Kyle will tease him if he asked about her. But better asking him than Johnny. As he leans back in his chair, fidgeting with the pen in his hands. Gaz barely pays attention, too enraptured by whatever he's watching on his own computer.

"Where's the girl?"

The Sergeant startles at the sudden sound of his deep voice. Hard and demanding.

"Sir?" He half chuckles when brown eyes meet each other.

"Have you seen her? She's supposed to report back to me and she hasn't." It was only half a truth. She did have to report to him every progress made for future missions, give him the intel so he can report to the Captain. The thing was, there were no missions taking place soon. No black ops, nothing. But Kyle didn't know that.

Gaz lifts his brows, trying to figure out who his Lieutenant was talking about, until it hits him.

"Oh." He murmurs. "The tech girl, Lt?" He shrugs. "Haven't seen her in a few days, have you tried calling her or you know... going to the women's barracks?"

Ghost scoffs as if the mere idea was ridiculous.

"No. Guess she'll show up."

She has to.

Standing up he exits the office under Gaz's questioning look. The hallways feel endless the more he walks to the tech wing, he knows if he passes down that specific hallway he'd be able to see through the glass that serves as walls if she's there or not.

Much to his already building annoyance she's not there.

Rolling onto your back you squeeze your eyes shut once more. An unyielding pain throbbing in the back of your skull shoots yet another wave of nausea making you feel more miserable than ever.

It's been two days since the whole ordeal started. It began with a subtle pain that couldn't recognize the symptoms at first, merely blinking away the black dors that started to blurred your vision one afternoon when you were trying to fill the reports for Ghost, pages and pages of new intel recovered from long lost contacts online.

Saying it was hard to dig in all those dark places was an understatement. You had tried to push the symptoms of uneasiness to the back of your mind, typing and decoding algorithms for what could be days. Days without sleep or proper and much needed rest.

So, when the first wave hit you had ran to the bathroom, throwing up what little you had eaten that day. Oh how you hated it. Tears prickle in the corner of your eyes and the terror began, everything went down hill from there.

Shutting the computer off you gathered your belongings. The corridors were in complete silence, abandoned hours ago when everyone went to their dorms.

You remembered picking up some of your things from the women's barracks and retreating to your personal dorm where no one would bother you. As a member of the task force you had a place for you alone —just as the rest of the team— and you're grateful because the next days were a nightmare.

The curtains were tightly closed. Not the tiniest bit of light could pass even if the sun burned brighter. The earplugs helped but they didn't do much to alleviate the external noises. Fuck why were the soldiers so loud? You asked to yourself, jaw tight in an effort to soothe the pulsing on your forehead.

After laying in the same position for another hour you decide to get up, dragging your feet in an enormous attempt to get to the bathroom. With the lights turned off you undress as quickly as you can; standing on your feet is hard enough already but you wait nonetheless for the bath to fill with cool water.

With numb extremities you step in and lower yourself, it's almost soothing and calming the way the water swallows your body and then your head. Ever since these headaches —these migraines— started to interfere, you learned that cool water could help to ease the symptoms. Time passes by and when you emerge your teeth chatter, lips turned purple but it was worth it. God was it worth it.

You're exhausted, this has taken a toll on you. Fitting your pajamas feels like an impossible task. Your head throbs with the slightest of movement. And then the door opens just a tad, reveling the dark shadow of the man you'd recognize anywhere.

"Ghost," you murmur acknowledging his presence, half shocked half embarrassed that he's right here in your bedroom. Your bathroom.

"Why is everything dark?" His voice is too loud and it makes you flinch; he's quick to notice even in the sheer darkness. He notices the whimper in your voice when he speaks too loud. He notices the way your body sags, and when he takes a step close you lean on him. Forehead pressing down on his broad chest. "Hey." He calls you, voice lowering this time. "Let me take you to the bed."

And you almost want to say something it. Make a comment about it being inappropriate but you're too sick to even do it so you let him guide you. You let him lay you down and surprises you when he follows.

Bodies curling against the other. You rest your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes so hard until the pain soothes. "You never told me about it."

"Never had the chance. Thought you hated me, remember?"

Ghost sighs. He had never intended for you to feel like that around him, he just wasn't accustomed to having such a nice person around him. You were so different from everything he knew.

"Forgive me, love." He mutters. "They're gonna start asking questions."

"What do you mean?" You grab him by the shirt when a sudden wave of nausea hits you. He caresses your hair in a calming manner.

"I asked Garrick about you." Before you can fight it a smile spreads on your face.

"Johnny..." you snort, regretting it the moment the laugh rattles in your brain. The Scot is about to have a field day when he finds out. "Ow..."

"Will never hear the end of it." His thumb presses down on your temple massaging the spot. "Better?"

"Yeah." There's a moment of brief silence where all you can hear is the sound of feet outside your dorm. People carrying on with their lives. "Would you stay with me tonight Lt.?"

"Thought you'd never ask."

607 notes · View notes

spearsillustration · 2 months ago

Note

tf2 angst!!! engie and medic with a reader who gets hurt/killed by one of their failed experiments? like reader gets killed because of one of engies machines exploding or reader dies during one of medics surgerys 🙂‍↕️ i want these men to SUFFER!!! (male/gn reader preferably u can choose which one!!)

Notes - I love some good angst every once in a while. Okay, I got a little carried away with Engie's so I didn't include Medic this time but I might do one for him in the future. (plsplspls forgive me)

Page number - 6

Word count - 1,988

------

He’d have asked you to join him in his workshop without hesitation. It’s a space filled with half-finished inventions, scattered blueprints, and the lingering scent of oil and metal. Besides Medic, you are the only one he trusts to lend a helping hand with his work—whether it's fine-tuning a delicate mechanism or assisting with one of his more ambitious, and often chaotic, experiments. Your presence means more than just another set of hands; it’s a rare show of trust from someone who rarely lets others into his workshop.

Okay, he always appreciates your help—your steady hands, your quick thinking, your ability to keep up with his erratic bursts of inspiration—but if he’s being honest with himself, that’s not the real reason he asks you to join him. The truth is, he enjoys your company in a way he can’t quite put into words, not that he’d ever willingly admit it out loud. There’s something about having you there, in the midst of his organized chaos, that makes the hours pass a little easier, the work feel a little less tedious.

Your presence brings a certain energy to the space, something that lingers even when neither of you are speaking. The occasional exchange of banter, the subtle rhythm of working side by side, the shared moments of triumphant discovery or mutual frustration—it all makes the workshop feel less like a solitary space and more like a place where he actually wants to be. He doesn’t even mind when you tease him for getting lost in his thoughts or when you roll your eyes at his more eccentric ideas. If anything, he finds it oddly grounding, a reminder that not everything has to be an endless pursuit of progress and perfection.

While he tinkers with his latest creation, completely absorbed in the delicate work of tightening screws, adjusting wires, or fine-tuning intricate mechanisms, you are there beside him. Sometimes, you simply watch, observing the way his fingers move with practiced precision, how his brow furrows in concentration when something doesn’t align quite right. Other times, you’re more involved, handing him tools before he even has to ask, anticipating his needs as if the two of you have fallen into an unspoken rhythm over time.

But this time, something happens—something neither of us anticipated. It might have been the smallest, most unseen mistake, a single misplaced wire, an overlooked miscalculation in the circuitry, or perhaps just sheer bad luck. Whatever the cause, the consequences are immediate and far beyond what we could have expected.

A sharp, erratic spark crackles through the air, the bright flash of it searing into our vision for a split second. The sudden burst of energy sends a jolt through the workbench, and before we even have the chance to react, a deafening bang rips through the workshop. The force of the blast is enough to send both of us flying backward.

The impact is disorienting. The world tilts violently as we hit the ground, the breath stolen from our lungs in the aftermath of the explosion. Ears ringing, vision blurred, the acrid scent of burning metal and singed fabric fills the air. The workshop is momentarily engulfed in a haze of smoke and sparks, the remnants of whatever went wrong now smoldering ominously on the workbench.

For a moment, everything is still—just the distant hum of failing machinery, the soft crackle of something smoldering nearby. My pulse hammers in my ears as I try to process what just happened, my limbs aching from the force of the blast. Then, through the haze, I hear a groan, followed by a string of muttered curses.

I groan in pain, the sound barely escaping my lips as a weak, rattling breath. My body feels heavy—far too heavy—like I’ve been pinned beneath the weight of something invisible. My vision swims in and out of focus, a hazy blur of dim light, smoke, and scattered debris. The acrid scent of burning metal fills my nostrils, mixing with something more distinct, more visceral—the unmistakable scent of blood. It takes me a moment to realize that the blood is my own.

The searing pain in my chest registers slowly, like a delayed reaction to the chaos that just unfolded. Each shallow breath sends a fresh wave of agony coursing through my body, sharp and relentless. I try to move—just a twitch of my fingers, a shift of my legs—but nothing responds. Panic grips me as I struggle against the numbness creeping through my limbs.

Through my blurred vision, I force myself to look down, my breath hitching at the sight. Large shards of metal are embedded deep in my chest, jagged pieces glistening crimson in the dim workshop light. Blood pools beneath me, soaking into my clothes, warm and sticky against my skin. My heart pounds erratically, each beat sending another slow trickle of red from the wounds.

I try to speak, but the only sound that escapes is a weak, strangled gasp. My throat is dry, my body trembling from shock. The distant ringing in my ears drowns out most of the surrounding noise, but I can faintly hear movement—someone calling my name, their voice laced with urgency. I hear footsteps rushing toward me, frantic and uneven. A hand grips my shoulder, shaking me, a voice breaking through the fog.

"Can you hear me, Darling?" Engie’s voice cuts through the ringing in my ears, frantic and laced with something I’ve never quite heard from him before—fear. His drawl, usually so steady, so sure, is shaken, unsteady.

I blink sluggishly, trying to focus, but everything around me is a distorted haze. My vision, blurred and unfocused, shifts between the dim glow of the workshop’s overhead lights and the flickering shadows cast by the remnants of the explosion. I can barely make out his face, but I can feel his hands on me—warm, trembling slightly as he desperately searches for the full extent of my injuries.

He’s leaning over me now, close enough that I can see the tension in his face, the wide-eyed panic that he’s failing miserably to contain. His fingers press against my wrist, searching for a pulse, his breathing growing more erratic by the second. The way his eyes dart over me, the way his jaw clenches, it’s all so painfully obvious—even through my blurred vision, I can see it. The damage was bad.

"Stay with me, ya hear?" he pleads, his voice breaking just slightly at the edges. He moves quickly, trying to assess what he can, but I can feel the hesitation in his hands, the uncertainty. This wasn’t some simple injury he could fix with a few stitches and some bandages—he knew that and so did I.

My fingers twitch slightly, in an attempt to reach for him, to let him know I’m still here, still fighting to hold on. I don’t know if he sees it, but he tightens his grip on my arm anyway, grounding me in the only way he can.

I can’t see clearly, but I can hear him. The way he keeps muttering reassurances, the way he refuses to let his voice break completely, like if he just keeps talking, keeps holding on, then maybe—just maybe—I will too.

"Don't worry, I'll get the Medic, just stay with me," he pleaded, his voice strained, barely keeping the panic at bay. There was desperation in his tone, something raw and unfiltered, so unlike the calm, collected man I knew.

I wanted to respond, to tell him I wasn’t going anywhere, but my body refused to cooperate. My limbs felt heavy, too heavy, like I was sinking into the floor beneath me. My chest ached with every shallow breath, a dull, throbbing pain radiating outward, but the strangest part was the creeping numbness spreading through me. It was as if my body was beginning to give up before my mind was ready to accept it.

"Hey—stay with me, now," he urged again, shaking me just slightly, as if he thought I might just snap back to full awareness if he willed it hard enough. "Medic's gonna fix you right up, just—just keep your eyes on me, alright?

He let go of me just for a second—just long enough to fumble for his radio, his fingers moving in a rush as he tried to call for help. His voice cracked as he shouted into the receiver, urgency dripping from every syllable.

His free hand pressed against my wound, his grip tightening, like he thought if he just held me together, if he just kept me here, then everything would be okay. But the edges of my vision were darkening, the sounds around me fading into something distant, like a radio losing its signal.

I could feel his tears landing on my cheek, warm and fleeting, mixing with the cold sweat clinging to my skin. His breath was ragged, uneven, each word he shouted into the radio laced with desperation. "Medic! Get down here, now! We need you—please!" His voice cracked on the last word, a raw, pleading sound that I’d never heard from him before.

I wanted to tell him not to cry, that everything would be alright, but we both knew the truth. The pain was fading, ebbing into something distant, like a tide pulling away from the shore. My body felt lighter, the numbness spreading, creeping up my limbs, dulling every sensation. I knew what that meant. There wasn’t much time left.

With the last bit of strength I had, I forced my trembling fingers to move, lifting my hand ever so slightly until it brushed against his cheek. The rough stubble of his skin was warm against my fingertips, a contrast to the cold overtaking me. I barely had the strength to cup his face, but he felt it. His hand shot up to cover mine, pressing it against his cheek, as if trying to keep it there, to keep me there.

His blue eyes, usually so full of certainty, were wide with fear, glossy with unshed tears. His lips parted, but no words came out—not at first. Just the sound of his breath, shaking and uneven, as he stared at me like he could will me to stay if he just held on tightly enough.

I swallowed, the effort exhausting, and forced my lips to move. The words came out in a whisper, barely audible, but I knew he heard them. "I love you."

His breath hitched sharply, his grip on my hand tightening, his entire body trembling. "No—no, don’t do that, don’t say that like it’s—" His voice broke completely, the sentence left unfinished as he shook his head, as if denying the reality in front of him. But it was too late. The last of my strength drained from me, my fingers slipping from his cheek as my arm went limp, falling lifelessly to my side.

I barely registered the sound of his voice calling my name, breaking into something shattered, something desperate. The last thing I felt was the warmth of his arms as he pulled me closer as if shielding me from the inevitable. Then, the world faded. The dim lights of the workshop, the sound of his cries, the warmth of his touch—all of it disappeared into the quiet embrace of darkness.

#tf2 #tf2 x reader #x reader #headcanons #tf2 engineer #engineer x reader #gender nuetral reader #oneshots #tf2 engineer x reader #request #part one

68 notes · View notes