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katelynnwrites · 9 months

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You Look So Pretty (Pretty Like The Sun) | Sydney Lohmann

warnings: not proof read

word count: 2557

summary: after making your own name, you realise it's not enough because you are still missing your sunshine

a/n: i wasn't going to post this but i'm on a mission to leave all my bad writing behind in 2023 so here's part two of this fic

It’s with a certain amount of trepidation that you walk onto the Bayern Munich training pitch.

Both you and the facility have undergone a major change in the years that you have been away but one thing is the same.

You know when the love of your life is near.

It seems that the blonde can still sense your presence too because she looks up and visibly pales the second she sees you.

‘Sydney.’ You breathe but she shakes her head.

The German player’s eyes are wide and panicked.

You are torn between staying where you are, on the very edge of the pitch or making your way to her.

This is the closest you have been to her since the day she broke up with you.

Luckily or unluckily, your new manager spares you and calls your new teammates over so that you can meet them.

Seeing Magda and Pernille again is a welcome distraction.

The older women had practically adopted you as their own when you were at Chelsea and you sigh contentedly as they wrap you up in a hug.

‘I missed you two so much.’ You mumble.

‘I hope you’re prepared for dinner at our place tonight. You can tell us all about why you didn’t tell us you were coming to Munich.’ The Swede says.

Pernille gives her a fond swat, ‘Oh don’t sound so serious love.’

Conspiratorially, she turns to you and loudly whispers, ‘Magda just wants the chance to mom you again.’

You giggle at the defender’s immediate protests.

******

Meeting the rest of your new club teammates goes smoothly.

All except for one.

Magda and Pernille help with the introductions, easing you back into the Bavarian team.

For all your fame, you’re still shy so you are grateful for the help.

They’re not all new faces, most are familiar.

You grew up playing for the youth teams with Klara and Lea. Some others you know from international games or as opponents that you once played against in the Frauen Bundesliga.

It’s with laughter that you reunite with Lea, the older woman teasing you that you’re still shorter than her.

Your introduction does not last long but by the time you have properly met all of your new teammates, Sydney is nowhere to be seen.

And you hate how awful that makes you feel.

Maybe you didn’t make the right decision in coming back to Munich.

******

Sydney is still Sydney. That much you have come to realise. The blonde has grown up but at her core, she’s still who you fell in love with.

You are content to watch forever as she shines on everyone. There is never going to be anyone else like her. Sydney Lohmann is a singularity.

She shows up to training sessions just a fraction of a second early and drinks far too many coffees for her own good.

Her fancy footwork on the pitch puts everyone else to shame.

The sound of her laugh still makes you happy and her smile brightens up every room that she is in.

Unlike before, none of that is directed towards you.

These days, all she has for you is indifference and silence.

She doesn’t even look at you and from the only interaction you have had so far, the one from your introduction, the midfielder has made it clear that she doesn’t want you back at her club.

You try not to let it affect you or your performance.

The faking it till you make it must be working because you are all set to be a starter just two weeks after rejoining the Bavarian club.

******

Syd doesn’t start that particular game and it gives you an overwhelming sense of relief.

It’s already stressful enough to have to prove yourself good enough to start without adding on your standing with your former girlfriend.

You’re doing well against Köln and you’re proud of how you are adapting back to the German style of play, if you do say so yourself.

There is only about a half hour left of playing time when the blonde is subbed on.

She doesn’t look at you and you keep your gaze down.

Unfortunately, for her, her playing time is cut short. It is like a bad deja vu of her previous injury against Köln, a few years ago.

One second she’s jumping up for a header and the next she is on the ground, holding her ankle.

You hear her cry out and then you are sprinting.

Lina is already at her side and just before you reach her, you freeze.

Sydney doesn’t want you anymore.

So you stay away from her but just far enough that you can still see how she is.

It doesn’t look good.

The medics come on and it is agonising for you to have to listen to Syd’s pained whimpers and do nothing about it.

You are trying your hardest not to flinch when Lea comes up to you.

‘Go to her. She needs you even if she doesn’t know it yet.’ She quietly says.

‘Schülli…’

‘Go. I know you want to.’

Hesitantly, you approach the injured midfielder.

Sydney’s eyes are tear filled and when she sees you, she immediately stretches out her hand.

It is instinct for you to put your hand in hers.

‘You’re gonna be okay.’ You murmur soothingly and she closes her fingers around yours.

The blonde shuts her eyes, more tears escaping despite her best efforts.

You keep holding her hand until the medics signal that she needs to come off.

Your ex girlfriend cries even harder at that and you help her get to her feet.

The German woman stifles a whimper as she does so and you worriedly ask, ‘Do you want a stretcher?’

‘No! Please no.’

‘Okay. Lean on me then.’ You whisper and Syd nods.

She puts her arm around your shoulders and you wrap your arm around her waist, supporting her weight.

‘I got you.’ You assure her, as she limps towards the sidelines.

Once there, it is with great reluctance that you let her go, the medics taking over.

You look over at the bench where your manager is preparing the subs and you signal for you to be replaced.

‘I’m coming off too.’

‘No.’ The blonde snaps.

‘Syd this is not up for debate.’ You insist.

Your meaning and intentions are clear, making Sydney let out a frustrated noise.

‘No. You are going to stay on and be a star. Okay? Go be a star and play for us both.’

She squeezes your hand tightly, wanting you to know how much she means her words.

‘Are you sure?’

Your ex nods, ‘Go.’

‘Okay.’

Syd’s hazel eyes are filled with tears and she looks so vulnerable that you can’t help touching your lips to the side of her head.

‘I’ll score a goal for you. Promise sonnenschein.’

In running back onto the field, you miss the way she lets out a soft sob.

She doesn’t know if she cries harder because of the old nickname, the feel of your lips back on her skin or because of the way the pain in her ankle practically doubles once you are gone.

******

You keep your promise to the German midfielder.

Scoring not just one goal but two before the referee blows the whistle for full time.

Then you rush straight to the medical room where you had been told Sydney is.

You slow down, the clicking of your studs becoming quieter as you approach. Tentatively, you knock on the door before you open it.

Syd’s all alone, sitting on the bed with her knees drawn up to her chest.

Her injured ankle has been fitted with a moon boot and her face is pale.

‘Sydney?’ You ask softly.

‘Why did you come back?’

‘Because I wanted to check on you.’ You answer immediately.

The blonde scoffs, ‘Not here here but Munich.’

‘I don’t understand.’ You murmur even though your stomach drops because you understand perfectly.

Sydney’s eyes narrow with anger.

‘Don’t give me some bullshit answer. You were doing so well for yourself over in Barcelona so why come back? You left before so why return now?’

Her words are clipped, filled with more than just resentment.

You sigh. She still knows you too well.

‘You. I came back for you.’

Sydney’s face goes blank.

‘No. You came here to win the league. You have won the English and Spanish leagues. The Champions’ League and Euros too. This is just one more thing on your list.’

Wincing audibly, you take a step forward.

‘I came back for you. You and you alone Sydney.’

‘No.’ The blonde adamantly says, even as her bottom lip starts to wobble.

‘Syd…I came back for you. I promise I came back for you.’

You are pleading with her now, almost begging for her to believe you.

The midfielder searches your face for traces of lies, tears spilling down her cheeks as she does so.

‘No. No. You chose to leave and I wasn’t enough to make you stay before. Why would I be enough for you now?’

‘Sydney I never wanted to leave you. It broke my heart to leave Germany with how things ended between us.’

Raw pain is evident in your admission and now it is your ex’s turn to flinch.

‘Why didn’t you come back earlier? You could have played for Germany. We could have played together just as we promised to all those years ago.’

You shrug.

‘I was eligible to play for England too and you made it clear that you didn’t want to see me anymore. I know me being here is the last thing you want but I just couldn’t stay away from you anymore. Not when I never stopped loving you.’

Sydney loses the little composure she has left.

Harsh sobs wrack her body and she covers her face with her hands.

‘I’m sorry. I-I’ll go now.’

You turn to leave but the blonde chokes out your name and a plea for you to stay.

‘What?’

‘I never meant for us to break up. I never meant to push you away. Fuck I am so sorry. S-So sorry.’ Syd stammers.

‘Sydney what are you talking about?’

Your words aren’t unkind, just genuinely lost. The German player’s actions have been plain and constant ever since you left. They have been nothing short of obvious in recent times.

Sydney doesn’t want you.

The midfielder wrings her hands, her voice barely a whisper as she says, ‘I love you too. There’s not been a fraction of a second where I haven’t.’

You are floored.

Literally because you have to sit down.

You stare at her silently and the only sound in the room is your ex’s quiet cries.

Eventually her tears slow and she sniffles, looking up at you.

‘Say something.’ She breathes after the painful silence continues.

You don’t know what to say so you go over to her and sit down beside her on the physio bed.

Sydney is trembling but she tentatively wraps an arm around you, getting you to lean your head against her shoulder.

After a few minutes, you curl completely into her side and the blonde sighs in relief.

It is how the rest of the team finds you later, Lea smiling a secret smile to herself.

******

You end up going with Syd back to her apartment. She gives you her address and you drive her there in your car since she can’t do it herself due to her injury.

The blonde keeps stealing glances at you as you drive, wondering if she is dreaming.

She thinks it would be too much if she puts her hand on your knee the way she used to, when you were hers and she yours.

Sydney is so busy overthinking it when you slip your hand onto her knee.

You keep your eyes on the road the entire time but a smile forms on both your faces as Syd covers your hand with hers.

Neither of you have said a word to each other but that’s okay cause there will be time for that.

******

It’s after you have helped the blonde onto her couch and brought her a mug of tea that you realise whose jersey is framed on the wall of her living room.

The three lions crest is familiar, the last name and autograph even more so.

‘Sonnenschein that’s mine.’ You murmur.

Your former girlfriend sets her tea down and nods.

With growing curiosity, you inspect the match worn jersey.

‘From the Euro final in 2022.’ Syd confirms when glance at her.

‘How?’

‘I bought it at an auction. I think it’s the one you wore during the first half.’

You remember now, the England staff had got the team to sign the jerseys before sending them off to some charity organisation.

‘Why do you have it? I would have given it to you for free if you’d asked.’ You question.

You have so many of them that this is as good a place to start as any.

‘Because I was so proud of your achievement. Even if you had to beat me to win that gold medal.’ She explains, picking up her mug again just so that she has something to fiddle with.

‘And I didn’t ask you because I was afraid.’

‘Of me?’

You try not to sound hurt but it bleeds through anyway.

Syd’s hazel eyes gloss over.

‘Not of you. Never of you. J-Just how you would react I guess. Nothing like your ex girlfriend coming up to you after you’ve won your first piece of silverware for your country to spoil the mood.’

The midfielder lets out a strained laugh.

You frown, ‘You wouldn’t have. I wanted to approach you that day too but I didn’t know how. I thought you hated me.’

‘I could never.’

‘It felt like it.’ You softly say. She's, after all, been point blank ignoring and avoiding you ever since you resigned for Bayern Munich.

The blonde grimaces, ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘You said that I made you feel like you weren’t enough when I left for Chelsea. I’m sorry for that.’

‘You needed to leave. I get that now. Leaving Munich was the best thing for your career. Bayern might be my home but it wasn’t yours. I couldn’t see that at nineteen and I can’t tell you how sorry I am for letting my selfishness ruin us. I treated you the way I did all these years because of how guilty I felt.’

‘Sydney…you didn’t ruin us.’

‘Didn’t I?’ She hopelessly asks.

‘I played a part too. It wasn’t entirely your fault.’

The German woman looks defeated and sad. Her hazel eyes are downcast and her usually healthily pink cheeks are pale.

You sit down next to Sydney and take her hand in yours, ‘We’re not ruined. You are still here and I am still here.’

She squeezes your hand in hers, ‘A-Are you saying that you want to give us a second chance?’

‘Only if you want to.’

Your former girlfriend doesn’t need a second to consider it. Her mind is made up.

******

Sydney is pretty like the sun. You’ve always thought so.

Now that you have your sunshine back, you’re not leaving her again. She’s not letting you go again either.

German Translation:

sonnenschein- sunshine

#sydney lohmann #sydney lohmann imagine #sydney lohmann x reader #fcb frauen #gerwnt #woso #woso x reader #woso imagine #dfb frauen x reader #dfb frauen imagine #dfb frauen #woso fanfics #katelynnwrites #uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine

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rosie-rosem · 11 months

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just married !

❥ pairing: nonidol!niki x fem!reader

❥ genre: arrangedmarriage!au, angst, fluff, highschool!au, unrequited love > requited love

❥ summary: You and Ni-ki are set up in an arranged marriage by your parents and even though you've liked him for the longest time, you're not so happy about the idea of being forced into this, and Ni-ki isn't either (or his girlfriend). How will this go?

❥ warnings: arranged marriage, bullying, grammar mistakes, not proofread!!!, let me know if I forgot something!

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

WC: 3.8k

A/N: I'm back from my trip, I actually was able to visit Korea and Japan! it was so beautiful! anyway, I know this isn't tweeting hearts but it's been in my drafts so I fixed it up a bit and wanted to post it just so there is something new, so I hope you like it. also, this one is a longer one.

You've always had a crush on Niki. From the first moment you laid eyes on him in your parents' luxurious living room during one of their many business meetings, you fell for him. His longish black hair, striking brown eyes, and charming smile made your heart race. You'd even managed to have a few conversations with him, but you doubted he even remembered your name.

The years passed, and you grew from "childhood friends" into high school students. Your feelings for Niki only intensified. You watched from a distance as he dated other girls, your heart aching with every passing romance. It was clear that Niki wasn't interested in you, and you had resigned yourself to the idea that he might never be.

Meanwhile, Niki's current girlfriend, Yunji, was another source of your frustration. She had somehow discovered your crush on Niki, and she took every opportunity to make your life difficult. She made annoying remarks and spread rumors about you, painting you as the lovelorn girl who would never have a chance with Niki.

High school was already challenging, and the added stress of dealing with Yunji's taunts and Niki's obliviousness was almost too much to bear. But then, things took an unexpected turn. It was right before your eighteenth birthday when your parents approached you with an announcement that left you stunned.

"Y/N," your mother said one evening after dinner with niki and his parents, "We have some news to share with you."

You exchanged glances with your parents, trying to read the expressions on their faces. Their business partnership with Niki's family had always been prosperous, but it seemed like something more significant was happening.

"Your father and I have been in discussions with Niki's parents," your mother continued. "We've decided that the two of you will get married."

The words hung in the air, and you felt like the ground had shifted beneath your feet. Marriage? You were still in high school, and while you had expected an eventual arranged marriage due to your parents' business alliance, you never thought it would happen so soon, or with someone you had such complicated feelings for.

Niki was sitting across from you, and he looked as stunned as you felt. He turned to his parents, shocked by the announcement.

"What?" Niki finally managed to sputter, his eyes locked onto yours.

You could hardly bring yourself to meet his gaze, so you looked down at your plate, your heart pounding in your chest. This was a mess, a complete and utter mess.

"I know it's sudden," your father said, trying to sound reassuring. "But it's in the best interest of both our families. We've known Niki's family for so long, and it's a solid match."

Niki's mother nodded in agreement. "We believe this will strengthen our partnership and ensure a bright future for both of you."

You couldn't believe what you were hearing. Your parents were making decisions about your life without even consulting you. You looked at Niki, hoping to find some sign of protest in his eyes, but all you saw was resignation. He seemed just as unhappy about the arrangement as you were.

In the weeks that followed, preparations for the upcoming marriage were made in a whirlwind. Both your parents had set a date for the ceremony – just a few days after your eighteenth birthday. You felt like you were living in a nightmare, unable to wake up from this surreal situation.

High school became a place of rumors and gossip. Whispers of your marriage with Niki spread like wildfire. Yunji, who had always enjoyed making your life difficult, seemed to revel in the chaos. She mocked you openly, taking every opportunity to remind you that Niki would never be yours.

One day, as you were leaving school, you heard her voice behind you. "So, Y/N, how does it feel to be Niki's little pawn in this game?"

You clenched your fists, trying to ignore her taunts. You didn't want to give her the satisfaction of a reaction, but it was getting increasingly difficult.

Yunji continued, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "I'm sure you've been dreaming of this day for years, right? Your fairytale ending with Niki."

You stopped in your tracks, unable to take it anymore. Turning to face her, you forced yourself to speak. "This isn't what I wanted, Yunji. You think you know everything, but you have no idea how complicated this is for me."

Yunji smirked, clearly enjoying your discomfort. "Oh, please. You've been following Niki like a lost puppy for years. You practically threw yourself at him, and now you're getting what you wanted."

You shook your head, your voice trembling with frustration. "You're wrong, Yunji. I never wanted this, and I certainly never asked for it. I didn't have a say in any of this, just like Niki."

Yunji's laughter cut through the tension. "Keep telling yourself that, Y/N. Maybe someday Niki will see through your act."

With those words, she walked away, leaving you seething with anger and helplessness. You couldn't deny that you'd had a crush on Niki, but this wasn't how you had ever envisioned being with him. It was a forced marriage, and the pressure from both your parents and your classmates was suffocating.

The days leading up to the wedding were a blur of dress fittings, meetings with the wedding planner, and endless discussions about the future. Niki remained distant throughout the process, his frustration with the situation evident. You had never felt so alone, even as you were surrounded by people making decisions for you.

The night before the wedding, as you lay in bed, you couldn't shake the feeling that your life was spiraling out of control. You needed to talk to someone, and the only person who came to mind was your best friend, Jiwoo.

With trembling hands, you picked up your phone and called Jiwoo. After a few rings, she answered, her voice filled with concern. "Y/N, what's wrong?"

Tears welled up in your eyes as you poured out your heart to Jiwoo. You told her about your unrequited love for Niki, the forced marriage, the constant taunts from Yunji, and the overwhelming pressure from your parents. Jiwoo listened intently, offering words of comfort and understanding.

"Y/N," she said, "I can't imagine how difficult this must be for you. But you know that I'll always be here for you, right?"

You nodded, even though she couldn't see you. "I know, Jiwoo. You're the only one who truly understands what I'm going through."

As the night wore on, Jiwoo's words provided some comfort, but they couldn't erase the uncertainty and fear that filled your heart. You couldn't help but wonder how Niki was feeling. Was he as trapped as you were, or had he managed to find a way to escape this unwanted fate?

The wedding day arrived with a mixture of nerves and apprehension. You stood in front of the mirror, your heart racing, as the stylist worked on your hair and makeup. The long white dress your parents had chosen for you was beautiful, but it felt like a prison. It was a reminder of the life you were about to enter, one that you hadn't chosen for yourself.

As you made your way to the venue, you could hear the hushed whispers of the guests and the flash of cameras. The wedding was a grand affair, with both families' business associates and friends in attendance. You felt like a puppet on display, and the weight of expectation pressed down on you.

When you finally reached the altar, Niki was waiting for you. He wore a tailored black suit, looking handsome as ever, but there was an aura of tiredness coming from him. He didn't meet your eyes, and you couldn't blame him. This wasn't the way anyone should start a marriage.

The ceremony began, and the officiant's words were a blur as you struggled to keep your emotions in check. You could feel the eyes of the crowd on you, the whispers and judgments weighing you down. When it came time to exchange vows, Niki finally looked at you.

"I promise to do my best to make this work," he said, his voice strained. It wasn't the declaration of love you had dreamed of, but it was all you were going to get.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you said your vows, promising to support and stand by Niki, even though your heart was heavy with doubt. The exchange of rings followed, and the weight of the commitment settled over you like a shroud.

As the ceremony ended, you and Niki were officially married. The crowd erupted in applause, and you forced a smile for the cameras, all the while feeling like a stranger in your own life. Niki's family and yours congratulated you both, offering well-wishes and advice on marriage, but you couldn't help but feel detached from it all.

The reception that followed was a big affair, with a lot of gourmet food, live music, and dancing. You tried to enjoy the festivities, but the weight of the situation hung over you like a dark cloud. Yunji's presence at the reception only added to your discomfort. She continued to mock you, making rude remarks about your wedding and your future with Niki.

Finally, you couldn't take it anymore. You excused yourself from the table and headed to a quiet corner of the venue, where you could be alone for a moment. The tears you had been holding back finally began to flow, and you buried your face in your hands.

"You, okay?"

The voice was soft and gentle, and you looked up to see Niki standing there. He looked awkward, as if he wasn't sure what to say or do. You wiped away your tears and tried to compose yourself.

"I'm fine," you replied, your voice trembling. "Just needed a moment."

Niki nodded, and for a moment, there was a tense silence between you two. Then, he surprised you by speaking.

"I didn't ask for this either, you know."

His words caught you off guard. "Oh, You didn't?" you said sarcastically.

Niki sadly chuckled, and his eyes held a hint of vulnerability. "I've always felt like my parents had this image of the perfect future for me, and I was just expected to go along with it. But I never wanted any of this, especially not at this age."

As he spoke, you saw a glimmer of the real Niki, the one behind the charming facade. It was a moment of connection, a shared understanding of the unfair situation you both found yourselves in.

"I'm sorry for everything, Y/N," Niki continued. "I know I've been distant, but I didn't know how to handle all of this."

You nodded, feeling a sense of relief that he understood your struggle as well. "I'm sorry too, Niki. I never wanted any of this, and it's been really hard."

Niki hesitated for a moment before offering a small, tentative smile. "Maybe we can figure this out together. I don't know what the future holds, but we can make the best of it."

It was a far cry from the passionate love you had once dreamt of, but it was a start. In that moment, you realized that you and Niki were both victims of circumstances beyond your control. Perhaps, in time, you could find a way to make your marriage work, maybe not out of love, but out of a shared determination to reclaim your lives.

The reception continued, and you and Niki reentered the festivities, both with a renewed sense of resolve. The night wore on, and the guests celebrated the union of the two families. For now, you were bound together by a marriage you hadn't chosen, but you were determined to face the future with strength and resilience.

As the weeks turned into months, you and Niki navigated the challenges of your arranged marriage. It wasn't easy, and there were many obstacles to overcome. Niki's relationship with Yunji continued to be a source of tension, and it was clear that she still had resentment toward you. Niki remained oblivious to her true feelings, and it was a constant source of frustration for you.

One evening, as you and Niki sat in your shared living room, you decided it was time to have a conversation about the situation with Yunji. You had reached a breaking point and couldn't continue to endure her hostility.

"Niki," you began, taking a deep breath, "we need to talk about Yunji."

Niki looked at you with a confused expression. "What about her?"

You chose your words carefully. "I know that she's not happy about our marriage, but she's been making things difficult for me. I think it's important for us to address this issue."

Niki's brow furrowed as he considered your words. "I hadn't realized she was causing problems for you. I'll talk to her and try to sort things out."

You appreciated Niki's willingness to address the issue, but you knew that this wasn't a problem that could be solved with a simple conversation. Yunji's resentment ran deep, and you suspected that her anger went beyond just your marriage.

Days later, Niki had a conversation with Yunji, and it didn't go as smoothly as you had hoped. She was defensive and unwilling to admit her true feelings. The tension between Niki and Yunji only seemed to grow, and you couldn't help but feel like a pawn in their complicated dynamic.

As the months passed, you and Niki struggled to find common ground in your marriage. While you had a newfound understanding of each other's feelings about the forced arrangement, you couldn't escape the fact that your marriage lacked love and passion. It was a marriage of convenience, a union formed for the sake of your parents' business partnership.

One evening, as you sat on your shared balcony, watching the city lights twinkle in the distance, you turned to Niki as he suddenly spoke, "Do you ever wonder what our lives would be like if we had the freedom to choose who we wanted to be with?" You looked away from him while slightly frowning at his question.

Niki gazed at the cityscape, deep in thought. "Y-yeah, but that's not our reality." you said slowly.

He nodded, "I know. It's just...sometimes, I can't help but wish for something more." He said. You sighed "I think I'm going to head to bed, I'm tired." You said, avoiding eye contact.

The conversation with Niki left you feeling disheartened. It was clear that he still viewed your marriage as a mere arrangement, devoid of any romantic potential. You couldn't help but wonder if there was a chance for your feelings to ever be reciprocated.

As you lay in bed that night, your mind was a whirlwind of emotions. The boy you had loved for so long was just as distant as ever, and the prospect of ever breaking through to his heart felt increasingly impossible. It was a painful realization that you had tried so hard to avoid, but it was becoming undeniable.

In the days that followed, you couldn't help but distance yourself from Niki. You tried to keep your emotions hidden, focusing on your studies and other aspects of your life, but it was difficult when you were living under the same roof with him. Your interactions became increasingly polite but distant, and the emotion between you grew wider.

Niki, too, began to sense the growing divide between you. He couldn't help but wonder if his words had hurt you, even though he had no idea about your long-standing feelings for him. He found himself regretting that night on the balcony, wishing he could take back his words and offer you some comfort.

One evening, Niki decided to make amends. He knocked on your bedroom door and found you sitting at your desk, engrossed in your book. You looked up when he entered, and he could see the weariness in your eyes.

"Y/N, we need to talk," Niki began, his tone earnest.

You closed your book and turned your full attention to him, curiosity mixed with a touch of apprehension. "What is it, Niki?"

Niki took a deep breath, struggling to find the right words. "I want you to know that I didn't mean to upset you the other night. I've been thinking about it, and I regret saying what I did."

You studied him for a moment, trying to understand his sincerity. "Niki, it's okay. You were just being honest. I appreciate your honesty."

Niki shook his head, a hint of frustration in his voice. "No, you don't understand. I didn't consider how my words might have affected you, and I want you to know that I'm sorry if I offended you."

Your heart ached at his words, but you still held back the truth about your own feelings. "Niki, we're both in this situation, and it's not ideal for either of us. Let's just make the best of it."

Niki couldn't shake the feeling that he had missed something important. He left your room with a heavy heart, realizing that he needed to confront his own emotions and what he truly wanted from this marriage.

Over the following weeks, Niki made an effort to get to know you better. He spent more time with you, engaging in conversations, sharing stories, and learning about your dreams and aspirations. The more he discovered about you, the more he found himself drawn to your kindness, resilience, and intelligence.

As his feelings for you began to evolve, he couldn't help but reflect on his past with Yunji. The intense arguments and the constant friction had taken a toll on their relationship. He realized that the connection he had with you, despite the circumstances, was much more harmonious and genuine.

One evening, as you both sat in the living room, Niki hesitated before finally speaking, "Y/N, I've been doing some thinking."

You turned to him, intrigued. "What's on your mind?"

He took a deep breath, his eyes locked on yours. "I've realized that I enjoy spending time with you. You're a great person, and I want to be a better husband to you."

Your heart skipped a beat, but you maintained your composure. "That's kind of you to say, Niki."

Niki pressed on, determined to be honest with you. "I've also come to see that my relationship with Yunji is not working. We argue all the time, and it's exhausting. I think it's time for us to break up."

You were taken aback by his words, and you couldn't hide the flicker of hope in your eyes. "Niki, are you sure about this?"

Niki nodded. "I've never been surer about anything. I want to be with someone who makes me happy."

The room was charged with unspoken emotions, and you found yourself torn between revealing your feelings for Niki or keeping them hidden. The thought of his breakup with Yunji had ignited a glimmer of hope within you, but you still couldn't be sure if your feelings would be reciprocated.

Niki, his eyes fixed on you, was waiting for a response. He was sincere in his desire to be a better husband to you and his intention to end his tumultuous relationship with Yunji. But you knew that taking a step towards love was a complex journey, especially given the circumstances surrounding your marriage.

You took a deep breath and decided to be honest, up to a point. "Niki, I appreciate your honesty and your willingness to make this marriage work. It means a lot to me that you want to be a better husband."

Niki's eyes shone with gratitude. "I'm glad you understand, Y/N. I want us to have a real chance at happiness."

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. "I believe in giving this marriage a genuine try, Niki. We both deserve that."

As the days turned into weeks, Niki followed through with his decision to end things with Yunji. It was a difficult process, filled with emotional turmoil, but he was determined to move forward. You stood by his side, offering your support and understanding. It was during this challenging period that you both began to build a stronger foundation for your marriage.

With Yunji out of the picture, Niki's focus shifted entirely to you. He made an effort to get to know you on a deeper level, and he couldn't help but marvel at the strength of your character.

Niki found himself drawn to your warmth and kindness, and it wasn't long before he started to experience a shift in his feelings. What began as a reluctant friendship had the potential to blossom into something more. He was falling for you, but he remained oblivious to your hidden feelings.

One evening, you and Niki found yourselves watching a movie together on the couch. Your shoulders were touching, and a warm, comfortable silence filled the room. As the movie played on, Niki couldn't resist the urge to speak his mind.

"Y/N," he began, his voice gentle, "I have to admit that I've been feeling a strong connection between us lately."

You turned to him, your heart pounding in your chest. "I've felt it too, Niki. I think our friendship is growing stronger."

Niki's gaze met yours, and he smiled softly. "It's more than that, Y/N. I've realized that I care for you deeply. I never expected this, but I can't deny my feelings anymore."

Your heart soared with hope, but you couldn't help but remain cautious. Niki still had no idea about your long-standing crush on him. "Niki, I value our friendship too, and I'm glad we're getting closer. But there's something I haven't told you."

Niki furrowed his brow, concerned. "What is it, Y/N?"

You took a deep breath, summoning the courage to reveal your secret. "Niki, I've had feelings for you for a long time. Even before this marriage was arranged."

Niki's eyes widened in surprise, and he stared at you in disbelief. "You...you've liked me all this time?"

You nodded, feeling a mix of vulnerability and relief. "Yes, but I never thought you'd feel the same way, so I tried to keep it hidden."

Niki's expression shifted from shock to realization, and a warm smile graced his lips. "Y/N, you have no idea how much this means to me. I've fallen for you too. I'm so glad you told me."

Tears welled up in your eyes, and Niki gently wiped them away with his thumb. In that moment, the weight of unspoken emotions lifted, and the connection between you deepened. You had both discovered that sometimes, love can emerge from unexpected circumstances, and that the most profound relationships can be found where you least expect them.

__________________________________________

#kpop #enhypen #enha #fanfic #rosie rosem #ni-ki #enhypen niki #niki x reader #nishimura riki #arranged marriage #enhypen angst #enhypen x female reader

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cursedonyx · 17 days

Note

I read the post about students reacting to mc dying in their arms. You should do the professors (including Black)

Thank you for the ask! 💚

Hogwarts Legacy Professors React to MC Dying in Their Arms

Link to student reactions here

⚠️Content warning for Death and Body Horror Below the Cut⚠️

Professor Hecat

Dina Hecat had rarely found herself as impressed with a student as she was with you. Your tenacity, your aptitude for magic, your ability to pick up new and complex defensive magic was unmatched, though Sebastian made a valiant effort to maintain a solid second place behind you. Such was your prowess that Dina thought you might make an excellent Auror, and determined to tutor you privately once you expressed an interest. It was a thrill to begin with, to teach you all the tips and tricks an Auror might need in their arsenal, you picking them all up as if it was as easy as breathing, to the point that Dina grew complacent.

She’d heard tales of your exploits during your fifth year, of course, and fought beside you during the Battle for the Repository. She was confident that you could handle anything thrown at you, and you impressed her over and over and over. But all it took was one tiny misstep, one foot wrong, and all her Ministry training and the reason behind it was thrown into sharp relief.

The troll was supposed to be an easy dispatch. You’d defeated one when you were brand new to magic, after all. Dina had taught you an advanced form of confringo, or at least, she’d taught you the theory. It was a powerful spell, a short step below feindfyre, and she was eager to see it in practice. But the troll had flung its club just as you began the incantation, and everything went wrong. You were distracted as it flew towards Dina, and you lost control of the spell.

The resulting inferno was too much for mere aguamenti, and there was nothing Dina could do but wait for the flames to die down, listening to you scream as you blundered about in the middle of the fire, unable to find a way out. When the smoke cleared, all that was left of you was a charred skeleton, your clawed hand leaving sooty streaks on her skin as she took it, hoping that this was some kind of nightmare, some kind of illusion or hallucination, anything but brutal, cold reality.

There was an investigation, of course. Why was a seventh-year student out fighting trolls? Why was this student doing so under the instruction of a faculty member that should have known better? Why had this professor allowed things to get so out of control?

Dina avoided Azkaban for her neglect by a narrow margin, but she had to give up her teaching post. She passed a little over a year later, having drunk herself to death, unable to cope with the guilt.

Professor Ronen

Abraham Ronen had always had such a love of fun and games, determined to make each of his classes a joy for his students. Yes, he recycled ideas through the terms, a large timetable in his office holding large lists of games he could incorporate that was appropriate for each year of Charms classes. But even so, after several years in his position, he found these games began to grow repetitive, and he wanted to liven things up.

That’s where you came in. Your ingenuity was famous throughout Hogwarts for a reason, and so he called on you one day after class, requesting your assistance in thinking up new games to play. He gave you a list of the spells he was to teach his seventh-year students, promising to waive your homework for a month if you helped out. You took to the task like a kappa to water, assailing Abraham with a variety of ‘games’ that would help the other students learn. The problem was, most of your games involved far too much risk for his liking, including trying to steal a dragon egg. Despite your protestations that you knew where to find one, Abraham wasn’t having it. But he’d promised, and you’d promised, and a deal was a deal.

So extreme were your ideas that when you proposed the still dangerous but comparatively tame idea of delayed-action bombarda combined with glacius, Abraham thought the idea of students running through a booby-trapped field, freezing the latent explosive spells, was a positively marvellous idea.

The students were less keen. They, unexposed to your particular brand of fun, saw the folly in such a practice. But you, determined that everyone should have fun, decided to be the first across the field. Abraham realised far too late just how foolish this game was, and had barely raised his wand as you danced across the minefield before disaster struck, and you were blown apart.

He tried his best to gather the pieces of you that rained down. A severed foot here, a shattered forearm there, holding his robes like an apron and gathering you up. It was futile, of course, for once a witch or wizard’s head is detached from their body, even the very best healers only have a few seconds to make it right.

He could never get that image out of his mind. One moment you were smiling, laughing, joking, teasing the others for their hesitancy, and the next you were in bits, everything that you were tumbling from the sky in slow motion. Every student in that class was scarred for life, set to fail their Charms NEWTs, fifty promising careers suddenly thrown down the toilet. Abraham resigned in shame, and did not go home to his wife. He wandered until he became lost, and lost himself until he found a cliff. Only by shattering himself on the rocks below could he find some form of atonement for his sins.

Professor Sharp

Aesop Sharp had always preferred to be somewhat gruff and stern. It kept his pupils in line, and his firm but fair approach ensured that everyone that took his classes passed with good marks, even if they had a tendency to blow things up, a practice he’d secretly taken to calling “doing a Garreth.” You, on the other hand, slipped past his guard. Maybe it was your incredible aptitude for offensive and defensive magic, or perhaps it was your endearing wit and charm. It could have been your happy-go-lucky nature, your ability to smile no matter how dire things seemed to be, always poking fun at yourself before anyone else. He found himself growing fond of you, thinking of you as some kind of wayward nibling.

He still had to give you detentions on occasion, of course, because even you couldn’t cheek the Potions Master and get away with it, no matter how well-intentioned your words had been. He found such hours to be more of a delight than a chore, happy to talk to you about anything and everything, even laughing a little as you revealed some of the mischief you’d gotten up to, things he’d normally give more detentions for.

One evening in the dungeons, you were cheerfully scrubbing out the cauldrons, and you asked him about is days as an Auror. You told him about an Ashwinder camp you’d caught wind of, and how you wished you could eradicate them. Aesop knew he should report it to Officer Singer and keep you out of it, but hell, he’d seen you fight, and there was something in him that yearned for that spark of excitement that came with defeating his enemies. He suggested travelling with you to wipe them out, considering it worth at least three detentions. You joked that this meant you had two free passes to be cheeky in class, and he told you not to push your luck.

If only he’d known. If only he’d taken a moment to think. If only he’d listened to his Auror instincts that told him this was a bad idea.

You’d both crept up on the camp, wands at the ready. There weren’t many of them, but enough to pose a bit of a challenge. Aesop had every confidence in you, he knew your skills after all, but unfortunately, the Ashwinders did as well. The moment they saw you, they didn’t bother with their typical hexes. They knew enough about you to know they couldn’t waste a second if they wanted to live. Three Killing Curses were sent your way, and one found its mark.

Aesop thought he knew loss when his partner was killed in Scarborough, but this was something else. Watching the light go out of your eyes, the ghost of your last, confident smile on your face, broke him like nothing had broken him before. He didn’t even try to resist when the Ashwinders took him, snatching his wand and throwing him in a cage along with the kneazles they’d poached. He couldn’t get the image of you out of his mind, your still body lying amid the debris of the Forbidden Forest, already ignored and forgotten by your foes, left for whatever scavengers crept through the night to feast. He refused food and water as he was dragged from one end of the country to the other, kept prisoner by those that had killed you. It took weeks to kill him, but one morning, lying on the floor of that cold, hard cage, he just didn’t wake up.

Professor Black

Phineus Nigellus Black preferred to let the students of Hogwarts think he was a cold-hearted, pompous bastard. It was much easier to work this way, easier to make the tough decisions a Headmaster of Hogwarts needed to make. Budget cuts, cancelling quidditch, extending exam season and banning Hogsmeade visits to ensure student safety was easier to weather if his heart was already hardened to the complaints and cries of woe, the bitter mutters, the whispered insults, the playground songs made up to poke fun at him. Yes, it hurt, but he was better than that. Stronger. Prouder. He had a job to do, after all, and Merlin only knew the previous Headmaster had left a hellish mess for him to set right. He had to be hard to be kind. He preferred not to pay attention to those around him, erecting a hard wall around his heart.

You, however… you were different. He heard about what you did in your fifth year, and though he found it hard to believe at first, he paid a bit more attention to you as time went by, and found the tales of your prowess were, if anything, undersold. Phineas made an effort in your final year to take you under his wing, seeing a potential candidate for the position of Minister for Magic in your future. He wanted to teach you the finer points of politics and bootlicking, introduce you to the right people, like the Gaunts, the Blacks, the Malfoys and more to give you the boost you needed to clamber up that slippery ladder. The only gifts he knew how to give.

You were resistant, of course. What kind of firecracker would you be if you weren’t? Phineas relished the challenge, demanding more and more of your free time until you began to understand just what kind of privileges came along with knowing the right people and scratching the right backs. Ominis knew it and used it to his advantage perhaps less than he should have done, but this seemed to tip the scales in Phineas' favour, and you finally began to listen and learn from his wise tutelage. He found himself swelling with pride as you whipped about your newfound allegiances, terrifying students and teachers alike, reining you in when you frightened Hobhouse so much he wet himself, his scolding gentle and warm. He might have had five children, but you showed promise.

Unfortunately, even the shrewd and clever Phineas couldn’t have foreseen the simple dangers of existing in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

He’d taken you to the trophy room, waxing lyrical about the famous witches and wizards that had come through Hogwarts, pointing out their accolades with relish, his hand on your shoulder, a rare and affectionate gesture of genuine pride. He told you that you could achieve just as much, perhaps more, if you applied all your skills and knowledge in the right ways. He even smiled at you, and his eyes were warm.

You asked to see a particularly bright medal on a high shelf, and Phineas, taking a leaf out of your muggleborn book, decided to give the other life a try, just for once. If a muggleborn could be as impressive as you, perhaps he didn’t have to use magic for everything. He tried to reach the medal by hand, even climbing on the shelf to do so, smiling as it made you laugh. He climbed down, medal in hands, his brow furrowing as your face grew ashen. The next moment, you had barrelled into him, throwing him out of the way of the falling shelf.

By the time he picked himself up, scolding you for your behaviour, it was too late. The falling shelves and shattered glass had crushed you, slashing your neck. By the time Phineas realised you weren’t just pratting about like you usually did, you’d bled out, your skin pale, your eyes wide and unseeing. Phineas sat on the floor beside your corpse, holding your fingers closed over the medal that read:

Most Impressive Display of Honour.

Professor Garlick

Mirabel Garlick had endured her share of enamoured students, villagers, and even fellow professors in her time. She dealt with it all with the grace and decorum that was expected of such a sunny personality, treating all and sundry with the same level of ardent attention and big, bright smiles. She had a soft spot for you though, someone who appreciated magical plants for the marvels they were. She didn’t mind when you stayed after class to quiz her on the less known properties of pufferpods or the right way to tamp down earth around a mandrake to ensure maximum comfort. She’d heard all about your little adventure to see the giant venomous tentacula, and had been curious about your knowledge ever since.

She was more than happy to help you grow your plants bigger and better than what the school board advised. She even cleared out Greenhouse Four for your personal use, encouraging you to grow things most students would only ever see if they were extremely unlucky. But she trusted you. She believed you knew what you were doing, swept up by your enthusiasm, tempted by her own curiosity to see just how far you could push your skills.

So it was that the pair of you ended up breeding a new kind of Devil’s Snare, one that was resistant to light and heat. It took time, and though you both occasionally wondered what the purpose of such a plant would be, you were too excited by the prospect of your experiments bearing fruit to worry about consequences. Mirabel should have known better. The only defence against a Devil’s Snare is light and heat, and both of you pushed away thoughts of protection against such a thing. It seemed playful, intelligent, happy.

It was early on a Saturday morning when Mirabel decided to look in on Greenhouse Four. It was only by chance that she had decided to do so, and she would spend the rest of her life wishing she had been five minutes sooner. She saw the Devil’s snare distract you with dancing tendrils as it had so many times before, only this time, you were too close. It wrapped you up faster than a spider wraps a fly, crushing the life from you. No matter how many incendios she cast, no matter how much she shouted and beat at it, even conjuring a torch to hold against the vines, all it did was hurt you more as it crushed the life from you, each snap of your ribs loud above your gasping breaths, the crunch of your spine grinding in her ears, the blood from your nose splattering on the floor as your lungs punctured, your eyes bulging out of their sockets. Even still you fought to draw breath until there was no more room in your chest.

Mirabel had never felt so helpless. She sank to her knees, waiting as the Devil’s Snare took you into its core to feed upon your corpse. She didn’t resist when the vines caressed her face, then wrapped around her throat, her wand lying forgotten on the floor of Greenhouse Four.

Professor Fig

Eleazar Fig had always had a soft spot for you. He’d watched you grow from a novice to a master in the space of a year, popular and clever, beloved by your peers and professors alike. He always made sure to make time for you in his office, sharing a cup of tea as you discussed your past adventures, gossiped about the students, or just had a jolly good chinwag. You both shared a love of adventure, and made time at least once a month to get up to mischief, whether it was investigating old ruins, clearing out mongrel dens, or just running the occasional errand for those in need. You delighted in having your mentor along for the ride, and he adored helping you where he could.

Unfortunately for you, your exploits over the years made you enemies. Though you helped a good many people and made plenty of friends, there were those that were hard done by when you stole from them or caused them trouble on behalf of someone else. Eleazar knew this, and made sure to continually warn you to watch your back, clucking like a mother hen. Perhaps he warned you too much, his words of caution becoming background noise as you continually avoided retribution for your misdeeds. Eleazar did his best to keep you safe all the same, ardently researching your enemies and eliminating plots before they came to fruition.

But after almost a year of no schemes against you, he dared to relax. He invited you out to lunch at Steepley and Sons, intending to enjoy a quiet cup of tea, some nice sandwiches, and perhaps even a slice of cake, his treat, of course. He wanted to catch up properly, to make sure you were happy, on top of your homework, getting on with your friends. You wanted to know how he was coping after Miriam’s passing, if he was back on the scene, how his work as a teacher was going, and can he please get you out of detention with Professor Sharp?

Neither of you expected after all this time there were still those that held a grudge. The young wizard helping Mrs Steepley was actually an Ashwinder, and they poisoned your cup of tea. It took a moment to take effect, but once it did, the only way to save you was locked away in Hogwarts Castle. Even accio couldn’t have got the antidote to you in time.

Eleazar watched as your face went ashen, seemingly sinking in on itself as you clawed at your throat. He caught you as you listed sideways, his eyes locked on yours, trying to comfort you, soothe you as you struggled to draw breath, not even a pin able to pass through the tightness of your throat. Your nails left bloody furrows on your neck, your feet kicking feebly even as someone ran for J Pippin’s, hoping he’d be able to help. Eleazar knew better. He just held you as your body jerked, the last of your life sliding through his fingers as he tried oh so hard to hold on to it, begging you silently to just hold on a little longer. You were all he had, the last spark of joy in his cold, dark life. Once you were gone, there was nothing left for him. A swift unforgivable curse delivered to his temple as he lay in his chamber was enough to ensure he could see you and Miriam again.

witchdoctorpirate ~💚

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy reactions #hogwarts legacy professors #tragedy #professor fig #eleazar fig #professor sharp #aesop sharp #professor garlick #mirabel garlick #professor hecat #dina hecat #professor ronen #abraham ronen #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #duncan hobhouse #garreth weasley

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the-ace-with-spades · 7 months

Text

(an unfinished post I found as I scrolled through my drafts on the train to glasgow. putting it out there as i feel... something rn)

Whenever I think of Mav and Ice as Bradley's parents/parental figures, no matter what the scenario is, I always imagine that Ice is the softer one and Mav is the stricter one.

No matter whether the child acquisition happens when Bradley is in elementary school or when he's a teenager, I think Mav would already be more used to parenting Bradley, even if he'd never call it that, simply because I can't imagine him not helping Carole throughout the years. I imagine he's seen Bradley's first tantrums and was the one Carole called whenever Bradley was acting out, or whenever she felt like Bradley needed a 'man's hand' regarding issues with boys at school or was about to hit the big milestones like learning to ride a bike or start school or outgrow the car seat or anything that she felt she would be too emotional about to keep Bradley's confidence up. They'd always come to pick Mav up from deployment and would be at all of Mav's ceremonies and big events and it all worked in both ways --- Mav was a parent and Carole and Bradley were his family. He'd never call himself a dad, not even when Bradley started sometimes calling him that whenever explaining to the other kids that he's 'kinda like his dad' and Carole said it was okay, but he was a parent.

For a while after Bradley moves in with them, Ice is stuck in the fun uncle mode because that's who he was before. Carole called Mav whenever she needed help with parenting issues, and Ice was there when no one was available --- to watch Bradley when Mav and Carole were at PTA, or take him to the beach with Slider when Carole and Mav were at work on a Saturday, or to buy Bradley way too many birthday presents despite their protests. He's not here for discipline or to manage the tantrums or to guide Bradley from a toddler to a kid to a teenager to a young adult --- he's here to spoil him in ways Mav or Carole can't.

Even when Carole falls ill and he takes more responsibilities around Bradley, he's still managing them in the 'fun uncle' mode. He picks up Bradley from school and takes him out to eat junk food or out for ice cream, or takes him to baseball practice and ends up buying him a whole new set of equipment on the way, lets him stay up late and lets him eat too much sugar and then takes him out to the playground despite misbehaving and unfinished homework so Bradley can get rid of the energy.

When Carole passes away, it gets to the point where Mav has to have a talk with him.

When it became clear Carole wasn't going to make it, Mav and Carole sorted out her will, including Bradley's care. Mav had a whole breakdown about it, far away from Bradley's eyes, and when he told Ice he didn't know how he was going to do it all alone, Ice promised he wouldn't have to, that they would do it together.

But Carole passes away and Bradley starts acting out, like most grieving kids, and Ice is still stuck in the 'fun uncle' mode. He doesn't know what to do when Bradley sulks after school, or refuses to go to school in the morning, or refuses to eat what they made for dinner, or when he doesn't want to sleep alone, or 'forgets' to pack his backpack. He just---stands there and observes as Bradley gets chewed up by Mav. Or Bradley gets sent to his room to go and finally do his homework after the third time he comes back with a warning from his teacher and Ice can't get his sad face out of his mind and sneaks into his room and maybe helps him a bit too much with said homework. When Bradley doesn't want to eat the dinner he's cooked, even though he asked him three times what he'd want before he started cooking, he caves in and orders takeouts despite spending nearly two hours in the kitchen.

Mav is tired. He doesn't like being the bad guy all the time, he can't do everything either, and Ice disregarding any sort of discipline or change he tries to implement is not helping at all.

"You can't be the fun uncle anymore," is what Mav tells him. "I need you to be his parent, with me. I can't have you both working against me."

The thing is, Ice's never expected to be a parent. He realized he's gay since he was about fifteen and knew that if he ever married, it'd be a levander marriage, with a wife he'd never touch and probably divorce fast enough that the lack of kids would be understandable. He hasn't been around many kids either, mostly isolated throughout most of his childhood, certainly not enough to see healthy parenting in place. As a kid himself, he was mostly self-sufficient, with his mom dead and his father absent or disapproving most of the time. It's the only thing that got stuck with him when he's around Bradley --- he never wants the kid to feel alone or like he's doing something wrong just because the adults are not appropriative of it. He sees himself in Bradley whenever he looks upset when they tell him what to do or when they punish him for misbehaviour or when he simply doesn't know how to make it better for him. Spoiling Bradley is so much easier than denying him anything or even negotiating a compromise for him.

Mav might have been like Bradley in a lot of ways, but his mom never had a family friend that could take on a parental role for him --- he had to fill the void his dad left in their family from a very young age. When he entered foster care when she passed, he didn't have many options. It was either misbehaving and ruining his life before it started with a suspended sentence or an accident or pulling himself together. In some foster families it was misbehaving and not eating or walking around with a black eye or behaving and staying above the water line until they would relocate him again. He knew what discipline was and he met many many parental figures he could learn from, both bad and good stuff. He's met kids that were older than him and then became them and met kids younger than him. Learned tricks and things that work for certain development stages, learned parenting can't just be soft if he wanted to keep the kid alive and healthy.

So Ice starts to learn, slowly. Saying no is still really hard, but he starts negotiating and asking for things. Starts telling Bradley to do things he doesn't like. Sometimes he helps him do those things, but doesn't do them for him anymore, not from start to finish anyway. He tells Bradley Mav is right and he should listen to him, explains why he's right whenever Bradley talks back when Mav chews him out. He starts getting a grip on the things parents are supposed to be there to make sure that are happening --- homework, food, cleaning Bradley's room, making sure the kid is showering and sleeping, wearing clean clothes, managing tantrums and outbursts in a way that is different than caving in and leaving Bradley to deal with them alone. They become a team again, Ice as Mav's wingman in the whole parenting gig.

Mav starts to breathe again.

Eventually, Bradley grows out of the grieving phase. He's still a teenager, but Ice likes to think they did an alright job sorting him out. He's a sensitive kid, still, and Ice likes to think Bradley knows it's okay, that they love him no matter what. He likes to remind himself that the instances when Bradley makes puppy eyes at them to ask for a new guitar or for extra money for a theater or when he just crawled between them on the couch or the moments when he rumbles on about some asshole from his class freely as he peels potatoes for Ice --- he reminds himself Bradley feels loved enough to not feel like those moments are a burden on them. Reminds himself he's not only alive and healthy, but also happy and they made sure of that.

When Bradley calls Mav dad for the first time and Mav is mortified, Ice finds himself jealous. For the first time in his life, he realizes he wants to be a dad. Then he realizes he wants to be Bradley's dad and he feels equally mortified as Mav. Neither of them was ever supposed to be Bradley's dad.

Ice is still a bit softer. It's not that Mav can't be fun --- he can tease the kid, play around with him, take him on outings and places that Bradley enjoys more than anything. He is the one who takes him flying for the first time and the one that screams at his matches, and the one who teases Bradley relentlessly as he helps him prepare for his first date. But Ice gives in a bit more easily, let's Bradley make the choices a bit more freely as he grows up.

They both hover but in different ways --- Mav is always, always kind of around, trying to protect Bradley from anything he can, especially as the years go on and he realises how much shit teenagers get into. Ice likes to think Bradley is sensible and that even if something happened, he knows he can count on them and would let them help him if need be.

Mav watches like a hawk as if Bradley could ruin his life with one wrong move and tried to predict if it will happen at any given moment. Ice isn't stupid, he knows Bradley is going to fuck up time and again, everyone does. But unlike Mav, he doesn't want him to have a perfect, unproblematic life. He wants him to feel safe and loved enough that no problem would seem too big or irreversible.

#icemav #mavdad #tgm #pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #bradley rooster bradshaw #idk im feeling sentinental aboyt parenting lately #idk in general #enjoy my mid-uk road trip brain breakdances #op

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marsplastic13 · 2 months

Text

'Complicated' (part 10) - Kaz Brekker x Reader

Idea - Kaz Brekker hires a prostitute to overcome his touch aversion, and be a better man for Inej, but things take an unxepected turn.

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Prostitute!Reader, (had to use y/n because I'm bad at names)

Genre: modern AU, slow burn

word count: 9k

notes: soo super long part because I wasn't sure of where to cut

@millercontracting @coldmermaidhologram @syd649 @cryptidghostgirl @luffysprincess

Kaz moved through the next few days mechanically, his mind miles away. He avoided everyone and everything, lost in a haze of thoughts and emotions he couldn't fully process. When Inej asked for some time to think, he agreed without hesitation. He wasn’t ready for those difficult conversations, not when his mind was consumed by someone else entirely.

He obsessed over Y/N’s Instagram, watching her have fun on her cruise while he replayed their last conversation over and over in his mind. Glimpses of the night they shared haunted him, moments of intimacy and connection that only made the present more unbearable. He counted the days until her return, but every time, he stopped, he asked himself: then what? She had made it clear that things wouldn’t work and that she didn’t want to try.

For two days, she didn’t post anything, and Kaz was losing his mind. At first, he thought she had blocked him. Then, his thoughts spiraled further, leading him to check if the cruise had sunk, his anxiety manifesting in irrational fears.

He was on his couch, watching replays of MasterChef, when his phone buzzed. Frowning, Kaz saw DMs from one of Y/N’s roommates.

‘Hi, I know you and Y/N are not on speaking terms, and I know she’s going to kill me for this, but I have to tell you. Her grandma had a heart attack two days ago and she still hasn’t woken up. Y/N had to come back and she’s been at the hospital since then. She told us she doesn’t want anyone, but we thought maybe you could make her reason better than us.’

He was already on his feet, reaching for his car keys. ‘I’m on my way’ he replied quickly.

‘Can you stop here? We have a bag of her things ready’

Kaz reached Y/N’s house, where her roommates were already outside, waiting for him. One of them handed him a bag.

“There are some clothes, a book she had on her nightstand, and a few other things. Oh, and her glasses,” she explained.

Kaz nodded, taking the bag from her hand.

“She probably hasn’t eaten in days. Can you get her—”

“McDonald’s, yes,” he said confidently, already planning the next steps.

The girl’s face was filled with worry. “Kaz, she has no one else. If anything happens to her grandma, she’s going to lose it badly.”

He nodded again, feeling his heart race.

Outside the hospital, Kaz sent a text to his boss, saying he was taking the week off, and then turned off his phone. He found Y/N sitting on the floor outside her grandma’s room, staring blankly at the wall. Her eyes widened when she saw him, red and puffy from crying.

Without a word, Kaz slid down onto the floor next to her, ignoring the protest from his leg. He circled her shoulders with his arm, and she immediately threw herself onto his chest, sobbing uncontrollably. He held her tightly, his own emotions threatening to spill over as he tried to be the support she desperately needed.

As she cried, Kaz rested his chin on the top of her head, stroking her hair gently. He wanted to say something comforting, but no words seemed adequate. Instead, he held her, letting his presence speak for him. In that moment, nothing else mattered but being there for her, giving her a shoulder to lean on in her darkest hour.

As she cried softly against his chest, Kaz's heart ached with the weight of her sorrow. He held her close, feeling her tremble with each sob, his own emotions tumultuous yet contained. His fingers traced comforting circles on her back, a silent gesture of solace amidst the sterile hospital environment.

Hours passed in their embrace, time marked only by the occasional shuffle of nurses outside and the rhythmic beeping of machines in the room. Eventually, y/n's voice broke the silence, a hesitant question cutting through the heaviness of the moment. "Do you want to go in?" she asked, her voice thick with emotion.

Kaz nodded gently, helping her up from their uncomfortable position on the floor. They moved to the bedside where y/n's grandmother lay, connected to various monitors and tubes. Without hesitation, y/n settled onto the edge of the bed, taking her grandmother's frail hand in hers. Kaz found a seat nearby, uncertain of his role in this deeply personal moment.

"Oh, um, they gave me your glasses," Kaz spoke up awkwardly, breaking the silence. "Didn't know you needed them."

Y/n accepted the glasses with a small smile, sliding them on with a playful comment that briefly lifted the weight in the room. "You look cuter when I can't see," she teased softly, her attempt at levity amid the somber atmosphere.

He chuckled softly, appreciating her effort to lighten the mood even in such circumstances. The afternoon faded into evening, and then night descended, their vigil by her grandmother's side continuing steadfastly. Kaz had no inclination to leave; his presence here, he hoped, offered some measure of comfort to y/n in her time of need.

"Kaz, if you want to go—" y/n began, her voice hesitant.

"I'm staying," he interrupted softly but firmly, meeting her eyes with unwavering determination.

"Thank you," she whispered gratefully, her words carrying a depth of emotion that words alone couldn't convey.

After the most uncomfortable sleep of their lives, a doctor awakened them, informing y/n that they were ready to try and wake up her grandmother by disconnecting some of the machines. Slowly, the elderly woman regained consciousness, and both y/n and Kaz released a collective breath of relief.

"Kitty?" Alice's voice was weak yet filled with recognition as she scanned the room for her niece.

"Hi, Grandma. How are you feeling?" y/n gently disentangled herself from Kaz's embrace and moved closer to the bed.

"Light," Alice replied softly, her eyes stopping on Kaz, curiosity evident in her gaze.

“I told you a thousand times not to play poker anymore,” y/n scolded Alice, a mix of exasperation and affection in her tone.

“Oh, Kitty, I was winning. I couldn't back out,” Alice chuckled weakly, attempting to lighten the mood. “You're unbelievable,” y/n shook her head fondly.

“Can we go now? I'm feeling pretty good,” Alice asked hopefully.

Kaz couldn't help but snort at y/n's reaction. “No, we can't. You had a heart attack! You have to stay here.”

“When was the last time you showered?” Alice teased gently.

“That's not relevant,” y/n retorted playfully.

“Who's watering my plants?” Alice asked, genuine concern in her voice.

“Your plants? You almost died!”

“My plants are going to die!” Alice insisted stubbornly.

Y/n laughed, shaking her head in disbelief. “I can't believe you.”

The conversation between Alice and y/n continued, filled with lighthearted banter and genuine concern, leaving Kaz feeling like a spectator in their intimate family dynamic. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, unsure of how to contribute to their exchange.

“How much Botox did you get? Your forehead is frozen!” Alice suddenly remarked, shifting her attention to y/n with a teasing tone.

“Sick, right?” y/n tried to furrow her brow to demonstrate, but it remained stubbornly smooth. “It's weird, Kitty,” she scoffed.

Alice turned to Kaz with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Do you like this look?”

Kaz hesitated, feeling slightly put on the spot. “It's, uh, a bit unsettling.”

"See, Kitty? Even this boy you still haven't introduced thinks it's weird. You just turned 18 for Ghazen's sake,” Alice teased, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Kaz, caught off guard, took a sip of y/n's vape and nearly choked at the unexpected revelation. “You just what?”

“It was her birthday last month,” Alice explained casually, her tone implying this was no big deal, but her raised eyebrow at Kaz's surprise said otherwise.

“You're a minor?” Kaz turned to y/n, his disbelief palpable.

“Well, not anymore,” y/n shrugged nonchalantly, as if revealing the weather forecast. “Did I forget to tell you?”

Kaz was certain his face mirrored the shock he felt. His mind raced, trying to grasp the implications. He glanced at Alice, then back at y/n, feeling like he was missing something crucial.

"A minor?" Kaz repeated dumbfoundedly, trying to process the information. "And you didn't think this was worth mentioning?"

Y/n let out a laugh, seeing Kaz's stunned reaction. "Relax, Kaz. I've been legal for a whole month now."

Kaz rubbed his temples, feeling a headache coming on.

Alice, enjoying the banter, chimed in again. "You look a bit pale, dear."

"Yeah?" Kaz replied in a weirdly high voice, still trying to wrap his head around the fact that he had been unknowingly involved with someone who had just barely reached adulthood. "I thought... I thought you were older."

Y/n couldn't resist teasing Kaz a little more. With a mischievous smirk, she leaned closer. "Age is just a number, Kaz."

Kaz shook his head, feeling like he had just stepped into a comedy of errors. "I need a moment," he muttered, mostly to himself, as he rubbed his temples.

Alice, ever the comforting presence, patted his arm sympathetically. "Take your time, boy. You're handling it well," she said with a twinkle in her eye, clearly amused by the situation.

Kaz let out a nervous laugh, his tension palpable. "Age is not just a number if you’re a minor, y/n," he retorted, his voice betraying a mix of disbelief and mild panic. "This is serious."

Y/n shrugged casually, her playful smile widening. "Why? What's the big deal?"

Kaz stared at her incredulously, feeling like he had just stumbled into a bizarre alternate reality. "You're asking why?" He shook his head, unable to contain a nervous chuckle.

Kaz was sure that he was the one about having an heart attack and would need Alice to leave some machines even for him.

The woman exchanged a bewildered glance with y/n, both of them bursting into laughter at the absurdity of the situation.

“I wish I had a picture of the face you made, love. I didn't just turn 18. Relax,” y/n teased affectionately.

“You're going to be the death of me,” Kaz sighed dramatically, leaning back in his chair with a mixture of amusement and relief.

“Who are you, boy?” Alice redirected her attention to Kaz, extending her hand in greeting.

“He's a friend, Grandma,” y/n answered warmly.

“Kaz Brekker, my pleasure, Miss or, well, Mrs?” Kaz replied politely, shaking Alice's hand in his gloved one.

“Alice is fine,” the woman replied with a gentle smile, studying Kaz's gloves intently.

“Are you cold?” Alice inquired, her concern evident.

“Kind of,” Kaz said, unsure of how to explain the presence of his gloves.

Alice hummed thoughtfully, her eyes lingering on Kaz for a moment longer. “Are you eating, kitty?”

“Are you?” y/n interjected playfully, teasing Alice back.

“Come on, Kitty, go to my house, check on the plants, and get a shower. You,” Alice turned towards Kaz, her expression serious yet caring, “convince her.”

Kaz's eyes widened slightly, caught off guard by Alice's directness. He quickly composed himself. “Yeah, we can go and be back in no time. I'm sure they have to run a few more exams anyway.”

“Fine,” y/n acquiesced reluctantly, glancing at Kaz for reassurance.

Kaz nodded reassuringly, offering her a small smile.

Reluctantly, they left the hospital, making their way to Alice’s house. The cozy home was exactly as someone would imagine a grandma’s house: a haven of warmth and comfort, filled with knick-knacks, and the faint scent of lavender.

"Do you want to see her plants?" Y/n asked with a smirk, leading Kaz to a door at the back of the house.

Kaz followed, curious. When Y/n opened the door, he was greeted by rows of lush, green plants. "That's—"

"Marijuana, yes," Y/n finished for him, her smirk widening.

Kaz's eyes widened in disbelief. "That's arrest-level marijuana."

Y/n shrugged, laughter bubbling up. "She says she's too old to be put in jail."

They both burst out laughing, the heaviness of the previous days dissolving in their shared amusement. For a moment, it was just the two of them, wrapped in the absurdity of the situation and the warmth of Alice's eccentricity.

After their laughter subsided, Y/n led Kaz back to the living room. The cozy space invited them to stay a while, and they settled onto the couch. Kaz sank into the soft cushions, feeling a wave of exhaustion wash over him. Y/n curled up beside him, her head resting on his shoulder.

“This place is really something,” Kaz said, looking around at the shelves lined with porcelain figurines and the walls adorned with y/n photos as a child.

Y/n nodded, her eyes following his gaze.

Kaz glanced down at her, seeing a hint of vulnerability in her eyes. He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer.

They sat in silence for a while, the only sounds coming from the ticking of a grandfather clock in the corner and the noise from the street. Kaz felt his eyes grow heavy, the emotional toll of the past days catching up with him.

Y/n seemed to sense his weariness. “You should rest a bit before we head back to the hospital,” she suggested, her voice gentle.

Kaz nodded, too tired to argue. He leaned back against the cushions, closing his eyes. Y/n shifted, lying down so her head was in his lap. He stroked her hair absentmindedly, feeling a sense of peace he hadn’t felt in a long time. Their fight seemed so far away he could even forget it happened.

They stayed like that for a while, dozing off in the quiet comfort of the living room. When Kaz awoke, the sun had shifted, casting a warm glow through the lace curtains. He glanced down at Y/n, who was still asleep, her breathing soft and even.

Yet, as he watched her, a familiar pang of uncertainty crept in. They were doing it again—blurring lines, complicating their emotions, and confusing themselves more and more. Despite the peace of the moment, he couldn't shake the realization that their relationship was a delicate dance of affection and conflict. The boundaries they tried to establish always seemed to blur, leaving them in a perpetual state of ambiguity.

He didn’t want to disturb her, but they needed to get back to the hospital.

“Y/n,” he whispered, gently shaking her shoulder. “We should get going.”

She stirred, blinking up at him sleepily. “Mh?”

He smiled down at her, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Time to wake up, love.”

Y/n stretched, yawning. “Okay, let’s go.”

They both freshened up quickly, the refreshing showers revitalizing them. Kaz found himself feeling more human, more present. They changed into fresh clothes and made their way back to the hospital.

The drive back was quieter, but the atmosphere between them had lightened considerably. Kaz reached out and took Y/n’s hand, squeezing it gently. The simple touch was reassuring, a silent promise that he wouldn't leave her side.

“How have you been while I was away?” she asked, breaking the silence.

Kaz snorted, a self-deprecating smile playing on his lips. “Not good. I’m still a bit embarrassed by the things I told you while we were, you know.”

“Having sex, Kaz, you can say it,” Y/n replied, rolling her eyes. “And don’t worry, it was just the moment. I know you don’t mean any of it.”

“Well, not all of it,” he confessed, his voice softer.

Y/n turned to look at him with a small smile while he kept his eyes on the road, one hand caressing her thigh. The comfort and normalcy they felt were unsettling, a painful reminder of what they could have if circumstances were different.

“I like having you around, Y/n,” he added after a while. “I don’t care if you think that we’re going to mess this up. I mean, how could we mess it up more than it already is?”

“You have a girlfriend, Kaz,” she reminded him gently.

“Tell me to break up with her and I will,” he said, surprising even himself with the bold statement.

“It’s not my choice to make, and I still don’t want a relationship,” she said firmly.

He parked the car and sighed, leaning back in his seat. “Can we forget this for a while? At least until we’re here,” Kaz said, cupping one of her cheeks and pulling her towards him gently, giving her the space to back away if she wanted. Y/n let him guide her, their lips finally meeting in a tender kiss. Her tongue slipped into his mouth, and he hummed, satisfied.

“How did you—?” he began to ask when she suddenly straddled him, her laughter filling the car as she pressed her body against his, deepening the kiss. His hands found their way under her shirt, tracing the smooth contours of her back.

“Do you want to do it?” she whispered in his ear, moving her hips slowly against him.

“Here?” he asked, not entirely opposed to the idea, though he was taken aback by the bold suggestion.

Before she could answer, a sharp knock on the car window startled them both. “Come on, lovebirds, knock it off,” a security guard said, his tone half-amused, half-exasperated.

Kaz turned an interesting shade of red, while Y/n laughed and opened the door, stepping out. “Sorry, got carried away a bit,” she said, batting her eyes at the guard.

“You’d be surprised how many people I have to interrupt. What is this thing with hospitals?” the man muttered to himself, shaking his head.

“Are you staying there?” he asked Kaz, who was still in the car, trying to gather his composure.

“Yeah, uh, I need—”

“Oh, for Ghezen’s sake, just don’t make me catch you again,” the guard said, walking away while shaking his head.

Kaz got out of the car, joining Y/n. They stood there for a moment, both a little flustered but also amused by the situation. “How can you never get embarrassed?” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

Y/n chuckled, linking her arm with his. “I get embarrassed, just not for wanting to have sex. There’s nothing wrong about it.”

“If you say so,” he replied, shaking his head slightly but smiling.

They settled into Alice’s room, where she immediately put them to work on her crossword puzzles. “Kitty, get down from that poor guy. He’s not going to be able to feel his legs anymore,” Alice commented, noticing Y/n had made herself comfortable on Kaz’s lap.

“It’s fine,” Kaz said, peering over her shoulder at the puzzle.

“So, what’s the deal between you two?” Alice inquired, her eyes twinkling with curiosity.

“We’re friends, I told you,” Y/n shrugged, her attention shifting to her phone where she was watching TikToks. “Oh, look at how cute this baby is,” she cooed, showing Kaz a video of a giggling infant.

Kaz made a face. “Babies are gross,” he muttered, eliciting a laugh from Y/n.

“Friends, huh?” Alice remarked slyly. “And did someone tell you that you’re only friends?”

“Grandma!” Y/n exclaimed.

“I’ll mind my own business,” Alice said, laughing to herself.

“See? Even she thinks we should try it,” Kaz whispered in Y/n’s ear, leaning back and making her lay more comfortably against his chest.

“Shut up and look at this cat,” Y/n retorted, showing him another TikTok.

Kaz chuckled, the warmth of their playful banter wrapping around them like a comforting blanket. Despite the complexities of their relationship, moments like these made everything else fade into the background.

Every now and then, Y/n would shift, adjusting her position on Kaz's lap, and he would wrap his arms around her more securely. They fell into a comfortable rhythm, their interactions natural and effortless.

That night, Y/n fell asleep in one of the chairs outside Alice’s room, her head resting uncomfortably against the wall. Kaz, however, was too restless to sleep. The hospital chair dug into his back, and the sterile lights made it impossible to find any real comfort. Around 3 a.m., he noticed movement from Alice’s room and saw her trying to sneak out. He raised a brow, his curiosity piqued.

Alice caught his eye and then glanced at her sleeping niece. “Come on, let’s go take some fresh air,” she whispered.

“Alice, I don’t think you should—”

“I’m going. Will you explain to her why you left me alone, or should I?” Alice shot back, a mischievous glint in her eye.

Kaz sighed. Was being annoyingly stubborn a genetic trait? He stood up and followed her as they made their way to a door that led to a balcony. “It’s locked,” Kaz commented, testing the handle.

“Then open it, boy,” Alice sighed, clearly unimpressed.

Kaz debated whether to comply, but he realized she’d probably find another way to escape. Better to accompany her than let her wander off alone. He quickly picked the lock, and they stepped outside into the cool night air.

“I saw you kissing earlier,” Alice said, breaking the silence.

“Yeah, um,” Kaz stammered, caught off guard.

“You know, Kitty is really good at telling lies—especially to herself,” Alice remarked, her voice softening. “It’s complicated,” he whispered, the weight of the situation pressing down on him.

“Where’s the fun if it’s not?” she replied, studying him intently. “Are you in love with her?”

Kaz hesitated, the unexpected question throwing him off balance. He struggled to find the right words.

“She’s going to get scared and push you away,” Alice continued, sensing his turmoil.

“She already did,” he admitted. “We weren’t talking to each other before I got here.”

Kaz thought about the past few days, his phone having been off since he arrived. Inej and Jesper were probably worried sick. For a moment, he was tempted to turn it on, but he knew that doing so would mean facing a barrage of messages and difficult conversations. What was one more day?

Alice sighed, leaning against the balcony railing. “You know, life is too short to waste on complications. Sometimes you just have to take the leap, no matter how scary it is.”

Kaz nodded, her words resonating deeply within him. He looked out at the city lights, the quiet hum of the hospital a soothing backdrop to his chaotic thoughts. “You should say that to her too.”

Alice smiled gently. “You have to be honest with yourself first. Can you accept her job?”

The million-kruge-question. Kaz felt a knot tighten in his stomach. He hesitated, then decided to ask, “How did you accept it?”

Alice chuckled softly, reminiscing. “Oh, it wasn’t easy. Nearly gave me a heart attack when she told me about her decision. But she’s comfortable with it, assures me that she’s safe, and she sends me her check-ups every month.”

Kaz nodded, appreciating Alice’s candidness. Trying to lighten the mood, he added, “Oh yeah, she always uses protection.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he cursed himself internally. Why would he say something like that to her grandma?

Alice raised a brow, her amusement evident. “And how do you know that, boy?”

Kaz cleared his throat, attempting to sound convincing. “She… told me.”

The woman chuckled, clearly not believing him. “If you want her, don’t let her take control. Steer her your way, guide her to you, small steps. Don’t ask her to make a decision suddenly, she’s going to run away.”

Kaz nodded, absorbing her advice. He stared at the view, the city lights blurring as his mind raced. Alice's words swirled in his head, mingling with his fears and hopes. Here he was, taking relationship advice from Y/n’s grandmother, while still technically in a relationship himself.

They stood in silence for a while, the cool night air wrapping around them. Alice patted his arm. “Remember, Kaz. Patience and persistence. If you truly care for her, show her that you’re willing to be there, no matter how complicated things get.”

Kaz took a deep breath, feeling a mixture of determination and anxiety swirling within him. “I have a girlfriend,” he blurted out suddenly, the words escaping before he could stop them.

Alice didn’t seem perturbed by his confession. She regarded him calmly, her eyes soft with understanding. “And Y/n doesn’t want a serious relationship,” he added hastily, his mouth seemingly disconnected from his brain, which was screaming at him to shut up.

Alice remained composed, her expression unchanged. She took a moment before responding, her voice gentle yet firm. “Feelings evolve, circumstances change,” she said, her words carrying the weight of experience. “If it’s meant to be, then it will be. If it’s not, then it won’t. Don’t force things, with neither of them.”

Kaz nodded slowly, grateful for Alice’s wisdom even as he struggled to reconcile his emotions. Her words echoed the doubts and fears he had been grappling with—about relationships, about his own desires, about the uncertainties of the future.

“Trust in the journey, Kaz,” Alice continued, her tone reassuring. “Sometimes, the best thing we can do is allow things to unfold naturally, without trying to control the outcome.”

Kaz took a deep breath, absorbing her advice. It was both comforting and challenging—to relinquish control, to trust in the unknown. But he knew deep down that Alice was right. He couldn’t force Y/n into something she wasn’t ready for, and he couldn’t ignore the truth of his own heart.

“Let’s get back inside before they send a search party.”

Back in the waiting room, Y/n was still asleep, curled up in the chair. Kaz carefully adjusted her position, ensuring she was comfortable. Alice gave him a knowing look before settling back into her bed.

Days went by, and they spent them in a routine that became surprisingly comforting. They moved between Alice’s room, her house, and the hospital cafeteria, finding solace in each other’s company amidst the uncertainty. Alice underwent various exams, and while they waited, Kaz and Y/n often found themselves outside in the uncomfortable chairs, trying to pass the time.

One afternoon, Y/n was engrossed in one of her fairy porn books, the kind that always made Kaz raise an eyebrow. After a while, he couldn’t help but ask, “How can you read these things?”

Y/n glanced up, a mischievous glint in her eye. “It’s fun.”

Kaz shook his head, feigning disbelief. “It’s weird.”

“Then don’t read them,” she retorted, turning a page.

“I want to know how it ends,” he admitted, a small smile tugging at his lips.

She turned to him with a smile, the playful banter lightening the heavy atmosphere. He felt a sudden urge to kiss her, to bridge the small gap between them, but he hesitated, the complexities of their situation weighing on him. Before he could second-guess himself further, Y/n leaned in and left a small, soft kiss on his lips, then casually went back to her book as if nothing had happened.

Kaz’s heart raced, the simple gesture leaving him both elated and confused. The kiss was brief but charged with unspoken emotion, a silent acknowledgment of their growing bond. He watched her for a moment, her focus seemingly back on her book, but he knew she felt it too—the undeniable connection between them.

They continued to spend their days like this, finding comfort in their shared moments despite the complications looming over them. Kaz couldn’t help but notice how natural it felt to be with Y/n, how her presence made the hospital’s sterile environment feel almost homely. They laughed together, shared meals, and sometimes just sat in silence, each lost in their own thoughts yet deeply aware of the other’s presence.

***

Finally, Alice was cleared to go home. Despite their protests, she insisted on calling a friend to take her, wanting to give Kaz and Y/n some space. As she left, she gave them a knowing smile and a gentle reminder to cherish their time together.

Kaz and Y/n were sitting in his car, the engine idling softly. Kaz had only one thing on his mind, the thought he had been forcing himself to ignore for days: Now what?

“I still have a few days off work,” he said, glancing at her and waiting for her reaction.

“So?” she replied, looking at him with a raised eyebrow, a playful challenge in her eyes.

Yeah, he thought, so?

He started driving, letting her put on some music. The familiar tunes filled the car, creating a comfortable backdrop to their thoughts. Every now and then, Y/n would lean towards him to let him take a drag from her vape, the small, intimate gesture deepening their silent connection.

“Where are we going?” she asked after a while, looking around curiously as the scenery shifted from urban to suburban.

“Supermarket,” he replied nonchalantly.

“Why?” she laughed, surprised by the sudden change in plans.

“You’re making dinner,” he said, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

“Am I now?” she teased, her laughter infectious.

“Yep,” he affirmed, his tone light but his eyes serious.

They arrived at the supermarket, the fluorescent lights casting a harsh glow over the parking lot. Inside, they wandered through the aisles, the mundane task of grocery shopping feeling strangely intimate. Kaz watched as Y/n picked out ingredients, her movements confident and assured. He found himself drawn to her even more, captivated by the ease with which she moved through life, her independence and strength shining through in these simple moments.

“Please, Kaz, let me do it,” Y/n kept begging in his ear, her tone a mix of playful and insistent. She nipped at his earlobe, her breath warm against his skin.

“I don’t want to,” he laughed nervously, though the glint in his eyes betrayed his amusement. His fingers twitched as he fought the urge to touch her.

“Come on, I swear I’m really good,” she teased, her lips brushing against his ear, sending shivers down his spine. Her words hung in the air, filled with a promise that made his pulse quicken.

“I have absolutely no doubts about that,” he responded, his voice a little breathless. The room felt smaller, the air charged with a tension that was both exhilarating and terrifying.

Y/n got on her knees in front of him while he was seated on the couch, her eyes wide and pleading. The sight of her there, looking up at him with such intensity, made his heart race. “Please.”

“You’re not ashamed of anything, are you?” he asked, half in awe, half in disbelief. He could barely comprehend her boldness, so different from the guarded world he was used to.

“Absolutely not,” she replied confidently. Her hands rested lightly on his knees, her touch sending electric sparks through his body.

Kaz made a crooked smile, giving in just a little, pulling her back up on top of him. He wrapped his arms around her, feeling the warmth of her body against his. “I prefer you up here,” he murmured against her lips, his hands tracing the curve of her back, memorizing every contour.

“Only because you don’t know how good I am down there,” she said playfully, arching her neck to give him better access for a kiss. Her lips met his with a softness that made him forget everything else, the world outside their bubble disappearing.

Her words lingered in his mind, tempting and daring him to let go of his reservations. He deepened the kiss, his hands tangling in her hair, pulling her closer as if afraid she might vanish. The taste of her, the feel of her, was intoxicating, making it hard to think clearly.

For a moment, all he could think about was her – the way she felt in his arms, the sound of her breath mingling with his. The rational part of his mind screamed at him to stop, to remember the complications and the consequences, but he silenced it, letting himself get lost in the moment.

The sudden sound of the door opening shattered their intimacy. They barely had time to react before Jesper burst in, anger and worry evident in his voice. “Kaz! Where the fuck have you been?”

Kaz and Y/n froze, their faces reflecting the guilt of being caught so red-handed. They knew there was no point in trying to move away from each other. Jesper’s eyes widened further as he registered her presence in Kaz's living room, his shock palpable. “Y/n? What the hell are you doing here?” he blurted out, his voice a mix of disbelief and frustration.

“You disappeared for fucking days! I can’t believe you’re with her,” Jesper said in disbelief. “Inej is worried sick, Kaz, and so was I.”

Y/n moved off Kaz’s lap, letting him stand up. Kaz faced Jesper, trying to maintain his composure. “I was in Lij. I had a family thing to fix,” he said confidently. “I just got back.”

Jesper shook his head, incredulous. “And the first person you tell is obviously her? Not your friends, not your girlfriend?” he shot back, his voice dripping with accusation. He glanced between Kaz and Y/n, confusion etched on his face.

Kaz hesitated, caught off guard by Jesper’s directness. Y/n shifted uncomfortably under Jesper’s scrutinizing gaze, unsure of how to explain her presence without making matters worse.

“I…” Kaz started, searching for an explanation that wouldn’t betray the complexities of their situation.

Jesper’s frustration grew, his disbelief evident. “You were just what? Kaz, what the hell is going on here?” he demanded, his tone cutting through the tense silence.

“I didn’t think you’d be so worried, and I haven’t talked to Inej in days. She asked for space, and I gave it to her,” Kaz explained, though it was clear Jesper wasn’t entirely convinced.

“I can go if you have to talk,” Y/n offered gently, trying to defuse the situation. Jesper glared at her, but Kaz spoke first, “No, don’t worry.”

“Of course, Y/n, don’t worry. So as soon as I leave, he can keep cheating on his girlfriend,” Jesper said harshly. “Or wasn’t that what I just interrupted? Are you sleeping together?”

“No, Jesper. It was… just a kiss,” Kaz lied, his voice strained.

“Oh, then everything is alright, just a kiss. Where’s the line, Kaz?” Jesper’s sarcasm was palpable.

“It’s none of your business, Jes,” Kaz said, his patience wearing thin.

“It is if you’re hurting my friend.”

Kaz inhaled deeply, trying to steady himself. “You want to know what happened with Inej?” he asked, releasing a nervous chuckle. “She said that she was with me because she thought I would never be able to touch her.”

Jesper’s surprise was evident, his anger momentarily replaced by shock. “Yeah, I bet she didn’t tell you that,” Kaz said more quietly, shaking his head.

“That’s fucked up, but it still doesn’t give you the right to cheat on her,” Jesper retorted, though his voice was less confident now.

“I’m not even sure if we’re still together anymore,” Kaz confessed.

“Look, I’m sorry, Kaz, but you can’t behave like this,” Jesper said, his tone softening.

“I need a drink,” Kaz sighed, moving towards the kitchen. He made three drinks and brought them back, handing one to Jesper and another to Y/n.

The three of them sat uncomfortably on the couch, sipping their drinks in silence. The atmosphere was heavy with unresolved tension, each sip of their drinks punctuated by the awkwardness that filled the room. Jesper’s eyes darted between Kaz and Y/n, his expression a mix of concern and confusion. He couldn’t help but notice how she had curled up next to Kaz, her body instinctively seeking comfort in his presence despite the situation. Kaz, for his part, seemed lost in thought, absentmindedly playing with a strand of her hair as he stared blankly at the wall.

Y/n shifted slightly, feeling Jesper’s gaze on her.

“Oh, you have a lash on your cheek,” Y/n said, her voice a tentative attempt to lighten the heavy atmosphere that hung around them. She reached out, her touch gentle as she plucked the lash away from Kaz’s cheek. “Make a wish,” she instructed softly, holding it delicately on her fingertip.

Kaz raised an eyebrow, a faint smirk playing at the corner of his lips despite the tension in the room. “Come on, it’s bad luck if you don’t,” Y/n insisted, a small smile tugging at her own lips.

He leaned in unexpectedly, catching her off guard by biting her finger lightly instead of making a wish. Y/n let out a surprised laugh, pulling her hand back instinctively. Kaz’s arm slid around her waist, drawing her close against his side, a subtle gesture that spoke volumes about their connection.

Jesper watched the exchange with a mixture of surprise and bewilderment. His brow furrowed slightly as he tried to process the dynamics unfolding before him. Despite the tension and the serious conversation that had preceded this moment, Kaz and Y/n seemed to share a natural ease with each other, a comfort that was palpable even in the midst of their turmoil.

“That was uncalled for,” Y/n chuckled, trying to regain her composure after Kaz’s unexpected move.

Her phone started buzzing, and she excused herself to another room to take the call. Jesper watched her leave before turning back to Kaz.

“You know what really makes me mad?” Jesper asked, breaking the silence. “It’s that you two look really good together.”

Kaz nodded, a small, bittersweet smile forming on his lips. Despite everything, he knew there wasn’t going to be a ‘them.’

Kaz sighed heavily, he knew there was no hiding it now, not after Jesper had caught them in such compromising proximity.

“Give her a chance, Jes,” Kaz pleaded, his voice carrying a mixture of regret and earnestness. “Me and Inej… I won’t be able to patch things up after what she told me.” His words trailed off, the pain of Inej’s revelation still fresh in his mind. “And Y/n is not the one to blame,” he added quietly, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I was the one in a relationship, not her.”

Jesper’s expression hardened, a mix of disappointment and understanding crossing his features. He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture of frustration and resignation. “I don't like her.”

“You don't like her or you don't like how I handled things?” Kaz asked, his voice tinged with a desperate need for clarity.

Jesper looked at him, the tension between them palpable. “Yeah, maybe I don't like you,” he said, trying to lighten the mood but failing to hide the seriousness in his tone. “But in all honesty, Kaz, it's more about how you handled things. You should have been honest with Inej from the start.”

Kaz nodded, his face reflecting the inner turmoil he felt. “I know, Jes. I didn’t plan for any of this to happen. I have no idea of when the things started to become different.”

Jesper sighed deeply, his frustration evident. “It’s always complicated with you, Kaz. But this...this is different.”

Kaz looked up, meeting Jesper’s gaze with a mixture of determination and guilt. “I never wanted to hurt anyone, Jes. Inej...what she told me. I was wrong to let things go this far without addressing it.”

Jesper’s expression softened slightly, though his frustration remained. “You owe it to both of them to be honest about your feelings and your intentions.”

Kaz nodded, his jaw clenched as he wrestled with the ramifications of his actions. “I know, and I will. But Y/n...she’s not just a fling, Jes. She means something to me.”

Jesper’s eyes widened in surprise. “So, you’re saying you have feelings for her?”

Kaz hesitated, the admission feeling heavier than he anticipated. “Yes, I do. But I also know that she’s not looking for a serious relationship. It’s complicated.”

Jesper shook his head, a mixture of disbelief and resignation on his face. “Complicated seems to be your specialty, Kaz. But you need to sort this out. You can’t keep stringing them along, it’s not fair to anyone.”

Kaz sighed, the weight of Jesper’s words settling heavily on him. “I know. I need to talk to Inej and figure out where we stand.”

Jesper nodded, his expression still stern but softened by a hint of empathy. “Good. Because if you care about them, you owe it to them to be truthful. And to yourself too.”

Kaz looked at Jesper, gratitude and guilt mingling in his eyes. “Thanks, Jes. I appreciate it.”

Jesper nodded, his tension easing slightly. “Just...don’t make a habit of this, Kaz. You’re a smart guy, but sometimes you’re your own worst enemy.”

Kaz chuckled, though the sound was tinged with sadness. “You’re not wrong about that.”

They fell into an uneasy silence, the weight of the conversation lingering in the air. Kaz knew he had a long road ahead to make things right, but for the first time, he felt a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, he could find a way through the mess he had created.

After Jesper left, the air in the room felt thick with the residue of their intense conversation. Kaz and Y/n settled back on the couch, the tension slowly ebbing away.

“Kaz, if you want me to go,” she began, her eyes searching his, filled with concern and uncertainty.

“Stay,” he replied firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument.

“Can we go to bed? I'm starting to feel all those nights on the hospital chairs,” she sighed, stretching her arms and stifling a yawn.

Kaz nodded, and they made their way to his bedroom. The act of changing clothes and sliding into bed felt almost ritualistic, a comforting routine in the midst of their emotional chaos. They lay on their sides, facing each other, the intimacy of the moment both soothing and unsettling.

“I have to work tomorrow,” Y/n said gently, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Anything interesting?” Kaz asked, his fingers tracing small patterns on the sheet between them.

“Nah,” she replied, shaking her head slightly.

Kaz pulled her closer, the need for physical closeness overpowering his usual reluctance. Her warmth seeped into him, grounding him in the moment.

“How do you feel?” she asked softly, her fingers brushing against his cheek in a tender gesture.

“Overwhelmed,” he sighed, leaning into her touch, his eyes closing briefly as he savored the comfort she offered.

“Is there something I can do?” she asked, her voice filled with genuine concern.

“Can you break up with my girlfriend?” he chuckled dryly, a hint of bitterness lacing his words.

Y/n hesitated, the gravity of his statement sinking in. “You’ve decided to do it?” she asked, her voice cautious.

“Yes, I have to,” he admitted, his eyes meeting hers with a mixture of determination and regret. “It's the only way to move forward. I can’t keep living like this, hurting everyone involved.”

She nodded, understanding the weight of his decision. “It’s not going to be easy.”

“I know,” Kaz replied, his voice firm. “But it’s the right thing to do.”

They lay in silence for a while, the quiet punctuated by the soft sound of their breathing. Kaz’s mind raced with thoughts of how to approach Inej, how to explain everything without causing more pain. He knew it would be a delicate conversation, one fraught with emotion and complexity. But he also knew it was necessary.

“And then what?” Y/n asked, her voice barely above a whisper, breaking the silence.

“You know what I want,” he admitted, his eyes locking onto hers with a mixture of hope and vulnerability.

“I can’t give you that right now,” she said softly, her gaze steady but tinged with regret.

“I’ll take what you can,” Kaz replied, his tone resolute.

“It’s not fair, Kaz.”

“You told me you’re not a nice person,” he said, a faint smile playing on his lips. “Are you going to start now?”

She sighed, feeling the weight of his words.

“I tried to have the perfect relationship,” he continued, his voice tinged with bitterness and resignation. “It blew up in my face. So whatever mess you’re down for, I’m in.”

She looked at him, seeing the raw honesty in his eyes. The Kaz she knew was always calculating, always had a plan. But here he was, laying his heart bare, willing to dive into the unknown with her.

“Kaz, I don’t want to hurt you,” she said, her voice cracking slightly.

“I know,” he replied, his thumb brushing gently across her cheek. “And I don’t want to hurt you. But we’re already in this. We can’t pretend it’s not happening.”

Y/n closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. The logical part of her knew he was right, but her emotions were a tangled web of fear, desire, and uncertainty.

“No expectations, no promises.” she said, opening her eyes to meet his gaze.

Kaz nodded, his expression softening.

They stayed like that for a while, holding each other in the dark of the room. The enormity of the decisions they were making weighed heavily on them. Despite the gravity of their situation, the warmth of their closeness offered a fleeting sense of peace.

y/n kept shifting, pressing her back on his chest, restless. “Fuck, I was so horny. Damn Jesper,” she whispered, annoyance tinging her voice.

Kaz snorted, grateful for the lightness she brought into the moment. “Yeah, this wasn’t exactly how I imagined our evening.”

“Mh, let me hear what you were thinking about,” she teased, a mischievous glint in her eye.

Kaz smirked, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on her stomach. “Well, for starters, I didn’t plan on being interrupted,” he said, his voice low and intimate.

“Go on,” she encouraged, her interest piqued.

“I imagined us taking our time. Maybe having a few drinks, and then...” he trailed off, his eyes darkening with desire as he recalled the thoughts that had been running through his mind.

“And then?” she prompted, her breath hitching slightly as his words stirred something deep within her.

“And then, we’d end up back here,” he continued, his voice husky. “But instead of talking about all this heavy stuff, we’d be... exploring each other. Slowly, thoroughly.”

Y/n’s eyes sparkled with anticipation, pressing more into him. “Sounds like a good plan.”

Kaz chuckled softly, his lips brushing against her neck. “Yeah, but there’s always tomorrow,” he murmured, his voice full of promise.

“Tomorrow? How am I going to sleep now?” she protested, a playful whine in her voice.

Kaz's chuckle deepened, his breath warm against her skin. “Well, maybe there’s something we could do,” he suggested, his hips pressing on her ass. Y/n shivered at his touch, her body responding eagerly to his nearness.

“I like it when you’re not shy,” she whispered, her voice filled with anticipation.

“It’s all your fault. You make me forget how to think,” he said between kisses on her neck. His hand made its way between her legs, eliciting a soft moan from her. “How can you be so wet?” he hummed in satisfaction.

“I like dirty talking,” she admitted, her breath hitching as his fingers teased her.

“I barely said anything,” he laughed, clearly pleased with her response.

“I like you telling me finally what you want,” she clarified, her eyes half-closed in pleasure.

He started moving his hand and his hips, slowly teasing her, building the tension. “I know what you’re thinking, love,” she said after a while, her voice a mix of desire and amusement. “The answer is no.”

Kaz hummed, clearly annoyed. “But it would be so easy to just slip it in,” he murmured, his voice low and tempting.

“Look at you, having sex twice and already asking to do it without protection. You’re such a man,” she said with a small laugh, though her own need was evident.

“You’re on birth control,” he whined weakly, his voice almost a plea. “Please, love.” He pressed his forehead against her shoulder. “I just want to feel you, all of you.”

Y/n sighed, her resolve wavering but not yet broken. “Kaz,-” She arched her back, a soft hum escaping her lips. The way he moved against her, the feel of his fingers inside her, was making it hard to refuse.

“Please, Y/n. I need you.” he whispered, his voice tinged with desperation.

“Begging, Kaz? Really?” Her tone teasing.

“You'll make me shameless as you are, I don’t care about anything else right now. Please, just this once. Let me have all of you.”

“Fine,” she finally whispered, her resolve melting away.

Kaz didn't need any further encouragement. He shifted, aligning himself with her, and slowly, carefully, he pushed inside her. The sensation was overwhelming, raw, and intimate. They moved together in a rhythm that was both desperate and tender.

Her moans were mingling with his groans. The intensity of their passion was almost too much to bear, every touch, every kiss, driving them closer to the edge.

“Fuck, you feel amazing,” Kaz breathed, his lips brushing against her ear. His voice was ragged, filled with raw desire.

“Baby, let me lay on my stomach,” Y/n urged, her body arching against his in anticipation. She moved to change positions, her eyes locking onto his. “Do you want it sweet or rough?” she asked with a grin, her tone playful yet seductive.

Kaz stood puzzled by the question, the familiar embarrassment regarding his inexperience creeping in. He hesitated, unsure how to respond, his cheeks flushing slightly.

“Sweet it is,” she decided, sensing his discomfort and wanting to ease his tension. She lay down, raising her hips invitingly. “Come here, lay on me,” she encouraged, her voice soft and reassuring.

Kaz followed her lead, positioning himself over her, his body pressing against hers. Y/n guided his hand to her lower abdomen, her touch gentle yet firm. “Now take this hand, and press here,” she instructed, her voice a mix of authority and affection.

He did as she said, pressing his hand where she indicated, feeling the tautness of her muscles beneath his palm. “Move,” she instructed him, her voice breathy with anticipation.

Kaz began to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate. The sensation was overwhelming, every nerve ending ignited with pleasure. He could feel himself going deeper, the pressure of his hand adding a new dimension to their intimacy. The feeling of being so connected, of feeling himself under his hand, was almost too much to bear.

Kaz hissed against her hair, his breath hot and uneven. “Oh, I’m not going to last, love,” he admitted, his voice strained with the intensity of his desire.

Y/n turned her head slightly, her lips brushing against his cheek. “It’s okay,” she whispered, her voice a soothing balm to his frazzled nerves. “Just let go.”

Encouraged by her words, Kaz allowed himself to lose control, his movements becoming more urgent. Each thrust was a declaration of his need for her, his desire to be as close as possible. Y/n’s soft moans spurred him on, her body responding to his every touch.

Their connection deepened with each passing moment, the world outside their embrace fading away. It was just them, lost in the rhythm of their shared pleasure. Kaz’s hand pressed firmly against her abdomen, grounding him in the here and now, his other hand tangled in her hair.

“Y/n,” he groaned, his voice a mix of desperation and ecstasy. “I'm so close”

“Let go, Kaz,” she urged, her own voice tinged with urgency.

With a final thrust, Kaz obeyed, his release crashing over him like a tidal wave. He buried his face in her hair, his body trembling with the force of his climax, her own pleasure evident in the way she tightened around him, her breathy moans music to his ears.

They lay like that for a while, their bodies entwined, their breaths mingling in the quiet of the room. The enormity of their connection, the intensity of their shared experience, left them both breathless and satisfied.

As they slowly came down from their high, Kaz pressed a gentle kiss to her shoulder, lingering as if to imprint the moment in his memory. Y/n shifted to look at him, her eyes soft and filled with affection, studying his face. There was a tenderness in her gaze, a silent communication that passed between them.

“Don’t say it, Kaz. It’s not true,” she murmured, her voice gentle but firm.

He sighed, slightly embarrassed. “Was it so evident?”

“Yes,” she replied with a soft smile, her fingers tracing patterns on his chest. She could see the conflict in his eyes, the struggle between his burgeoning feelings and the reality of their situation.

He nodded, appreciating her understanding. The vulnerability he felt in her presence was both terrifying and liberating. She had a way of seeing through his walls, of touching the parts of him he kept hidden from the world.

“Are you going to be able to sleep now?” he asked, his voice teasing as he tried to lighten the mood.

“Yes,” she replied, snuggling closer to him. Her body fit perfectly against his, a warm and reassuring presence. She rested her head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

Kaz wrapped his arms around her, pulling her even closer. The comfort of her weight against him, the softness of her skin, it all felt so right. “Good,” he murmured, pressing another kiss to the top of her head.

#kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker #kaz brekker x y/n #kaz brekker fanfic #kaz brekker x fem!reader #kaz brekker fluff #soc #kaz brekker x you #six of crows #six of crows fanfic #kaz brekker angst #kaz brekker imagine

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venus-haze · 9 months

Text

No Other Gods Before Me (Homelander x Reader)

Summary: Love is everything. Love is God. Homelander is love. Maybe you are, too.

Note: Gender neutral supe reader, and no descriptors are used. Takes place in season 1 during the Believe Expo. Inspired by Starlight’s comment that she didn’t have a crush on Homelander growing up because “he was like Jesus or something.” I'm sorry it took me so long to write another Homelander fic! Do not interact if you’re under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 1k

Warnings: Extremely unhealthy relationship, power imbalance (unclear as to who, as the reader has unspecified psychic powers), warped elements of Christianity. Do not interact if you’re under 18.

Homelander saw them clear as day. The tears welling up in your eyes as you walked down to the baptismal pool. He barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes. For all of his pandering, he was never fond of religious types–especially religious supes. You should know better than to buy into this bullshit, a cheap substitute for simple minds that couldn’t comprehend the modern gods that put the miracles of every religious text to shame.

Still, he held out his gloved hand for you to take, and you did, gingerly, as if his physical presence would be too much to bear.

Homelander had his fair share of admirers, but the reverent gleam in your eyes was nothing short of disarming. His name came from your lips in a soft, pious prayer before you hit the water.

You emerged from the chlorinated depths reborn, staring at him in a moment of blissful awe. “You are love,” you whispered, only loud enough so he could hear. And it stunned him. So much so that he couldn’t protest when you were ushered out of the pool, wet clothes clinging indecently to your skin. You disappeared with your fresh towel, and he resisted the urge to drown the rest of the devout in line to find you.

There was still time. Believe Expo wasn’t quite over yet. Surely you’d still be milling about, in some ridiculous prayer circle or buying one of the cheap trinkets the numerous grifters shilled. He’d never read the Bible, not all of it. Bits and pieces to understand what people were talking about, and a few feel-good verses up his sleeve for speeches and interviews. None of it made him understand what all of the fuss was about, anyway. Why his birthday wasn’t a months-long celebration, a cultural phenomenon. All Vought gave him was a TV special and a cake. It wasn’t the spectacular frenzy that people anticipated all year.

His fists clenched.

He found a volunteer who didn’t look all that busy, and offered a selfie with them before asking a favor. People would do just about anything for him, regardless, but posing his demands as if they were helping him out tended to get things done faster. As soon as the words left his mouth, the volunteer set off to find you. He retreated to his dressing room, waiting impatiently for your arrival.

“Isn’t he wonderful?” you asked, your distant voice growing louder as you approached.

“Homelander’s the best,” the volunteer agreed.

“Don’t you feel it?”

“Feel what?”

“That warmth when you’re in his presence, something divine.”

“Well, he was chosen by God.”

“You don’t get it at all, do you,” you said, disappointment evident in your voice, just on the other side of his dressing room door.

He tried not to appear too eager when you entered, though you were in different clothes than before. Couldn’t expect you to spend the rest of the day walking around in soaking wet clothes, though part of him hoped you would.

“I knew we’d see each other again,” you said, not at all surprised by him summoning you.

He tilted his head, regarding you with suspicion. You didn’t seem like you were fucking with him, but he couldn’t be sure. “In the baptismal pool, you said I was love.”

You nodded. “Love is eternal. Love can conquer anything.”

“Love is God,” he said.

“I prayed to you, because I knew you could hear me,” you confessed quietly. “You’re the one.”

Your sincerity was genuine, the way your heart beat in time for him, tearful eyes glistening with an unprecedented devotion. Without an outstretched, gloved hand, he cupped your cheek, caressing it in his first act of blessing. Anointing you first. A ragged breath emerged from his parted lips. His dove, his lamb, his to guide and nurture the way these abstract figments couldn’t. You would be his Mary Magdalene, his Saint Paul, unceasingly devoted in your worship of him, proselytizing the good word to the masses.

And why shouldn’t they worship him? Look at him with the same admiration and awe that you did? Power in the blood, his blood, to save and damn as he saw fit. After all, he didn’t need to die to offer salvation. No great sacrifices on his part to provide for those who were worthy. The sky had been empty when he explored it, all the way up past the atmosphere, farther than anyone could possibly go until he reached the vast emptiness of space itself and found himself alone. Homelander wasn’t an unknowable god. He walked among the masses, pandered to their sensitivities because he knew just how small and insignificant they were.

He’d read about the more extreme acts of devotion to gods in the past. Self-flagellation. Human sacrifice. Vows of poverty. Pathetic and desperate attempts to appease a supposedly powerful higher being who did nothing to help his people when they cried out for him. But Homelander was there. And just like you’d said, he could hear everything. He required so much less of people yet offered so much more.

“You’re the only one who sees me for what I am,” he murmured.

You nodded gently, your cheek rubbing against his glove.

He leaned in to kiss you, and you reciprocated without hesitation, pressing your lips to his, allowing yourself unprecedented closeness with the divine. Consume and be healed, forgiven, saved. Kissing you felt purposeful, made his heart race and his brain feel fuzzy.

Warmth washed over him, and for a moment the suspicious part of him wondered if this divine haze was related to your powers. Something about being able to get into people’s heads, mess with their emotions. He wasn’t sure. There was no reason for you to be on his radar before the spiritual encounter.

When you whispered his name against his lips like a prayer, he nearly choked. Devout. Unconditional. He held onto you tightly, lips attached to yours in his own act of worship.

Love was everything. Love was God. Homelander was love. Maybe you were, too.

#homelander x reader #the boys x reader #homelander imagine #homelander #homelander the boys #the boys imagine #the boys tv #the boys amazon #the boys

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irkimatsu · 6 months

Note

i just read the “rough sex, Husk catching feeling” story of yours & im wondering if you could pretty please make a part 2 🙏

I really thought this was going to end up smutty, but I decided in the end that it wasn't what Husk needed in the moment. He's got feelings, too, and sometimes he just needs a hug. They can fuck again later, it's fine.

Third person, not quite NSFW but still has some spice to it. A sequel to this post. Shoutout to @thorteddy for the original prompt!

It had been about a week since he’d last seen her.

It wasn’t a terribly long time; she’d had her stints before where she’d drop by constantly for a month or so, then vanish for a few weeks. Husk never worried too much when that happened. He simply figured she had other things to be doing. It wasn’t like they were close enough for him to care what she did away from the hotel.

They were close enough to fuck when she dropped by. Just not close enough for him to care where she was otherwise..

At least, they weren’t until Angel had to go and open his mouth.

“I wonder if she lets other guys fuck her like that or if you’ve got special privileges.”

He hadn’t been able to shake that thought ever since Angel said that. Did she see other people? What would stop her from that? Surely not him. He never told her he wanted to be exclusive with her or anything. Why the hell would he have said that in the first place? They were just friends who helped each other with stress relief, and that was all.

Even as he thought that, he couldn’t help but stare at the front door of the hotel as he cleaned up for the night, wondering if this time she’d come through those doors to see him again.

She didn’t. With a frustrated growl, he slammed the last batch of glasses onto the shelf, somehow not breaking any, and stalked off to his bedroom for another night alone.

It’d be another four frustrating days until he’d see her again.

—

It hadn’t even been two weeks since their last intense session, and yet for Husk, it seemed like forever since he held her in his arms. His claws lightly combed through her hair as he kissed her, while her own hands focused their affection on his chest.

“You don’t normally focus on kissing this long,” she observed with a laugh. “You feeling all right?”

Had he been lingering here for so long? He’d lost track of time. “What’s wrong with that?” he protests. “I like kissing ya.”

“I know you do,” she said as she climbed into his lap. “I know what other things you like doing to me, too…” She grabbed his cheeks - fuck her hands were so warm, why was that such a good spot for her to touch - and pulled him in for another kiss. She shifted her hips and started rocking into his waist, moaning as she rubbed against his bulge.

“Hey…” Husk gently grabbed her waist and slid her away from his erection. “Hold on.”

“Are you okay, Husk?” she asked, brow furrowed. “Is something bothering you?”

He took a deep breath before letting that burning question tumble out of his mouth.

“Do you ever fuck anyone besides me?” he asked, so bluntly and out of nowhere that she couldn't help but laugh.

“Husk! Where is this coming from? What, do you have an interested friend? Maybe you want to try a threesome?” She cooed this last suggestion while dragging a finger down Husk’s chest. Her attitude almost got him to pounce her, if only his head wasn’t such a mess right now.

“Was just wonderin’...” he asked as his ears drooped. “It’s not a big deal.”

“I mean… don’t you?” she asked in return. “Surely I’m not the only drunk you’ve picked up in a bar.”

Husk is certain his silence speaks volumes.

“Husk…” She climbed out of Husk’s lap, now that he’s made it clear that this isn’t a good time. “Should I go?”

“No,” Husk said, instinctively grabbing her wrist. “Stay.”

“Did you want to keep making out?” she asked as she sat down beside him.

“...I don’t know what I want,” he admitted after a heavy sigh. “What are we? What am I to you?”

“We’re fuckbuddies!” she responded with a laugh, making Husk’s ears flatten further. “That’s what you wanted, right? When we first met you said you weren’t looking for anything serious, and I wasn’t either, so…” Upon noticing Husk’s discomfort, she spoke more gently. “Isn’t it what you wanted…?”

“I’ve been through a lot of shit, you know?” Husk said. “I’m a divorced old man, and the only mistake my wife ever made in our marriage was not leaving me sooner. I didn’t have relationships figured out with her, and I sure as hell never figured them out after that. It’s hard to when you’re a fucking drunk with a gambling problem. Who’d want to get close to something like that?” He started regretting not bringing a drink up here with him like he normally did when alone. “Of course I wasn’t looking for something else when I met you. I can’t handle anything else.

…but I don’t know if I can handle this, either.”

“Handle what?” she asked, not quite understanding.

“...look. I’m sorry, but I can’t keep seeing you. I’m lying to myself if I try to keep it casual, but I sure as hell can’t drag you down with me.” He sighed again as he let go of her wrist. “You should just go.”

He sat waiting for the bed to lift in her absence. The sensation never came.

Instead, a set of claws started gently rubbing his back. Not so close to his wings to get him frustrated, and not deep with desperate need; just a calming, circular stroke.

“I don’t know if I can do it, either,” she admitted. “Relationships, I mean. It’s been a long time, and I’ve got my own baggage… but can I tell you something?”

“Hm?” Husk didn’t look at her as she spoke.

“It’s true, you’re not the only guy I’ve been with recently…”

Not what he wanted to hear. It took all his willpower not to bristle his fur and growl in jealousy over something that wasn’t even his.

“...but you’re the only one I see regularly.” She scooted closer to him to rest his head on your shoulder. “I don’t know… there’s just something about you. Something I want to know more about. Sure, I’ve been physically attracted to other guys, but I didn’t want to get to know them like I want to know you.”

Husk scoffed. “There’s really not that much to know about me. I’m an old drunk who screwed up my life, and now I’m stuck here.”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” she said. “You can’t live as long as you have without having some interesting stories!”

“Is that what you really wanna do?” he asked. “Lay in an old man’s bed while he tells you stories?”

“Who says we only have to see each other in bed?” she asked. “It’s not like you can’t be seen in public with me, can it?”

“Well, no…”

“Then take me on a date tomorrow. It doesn’t have to be anything special. Just show me a place you like, where we can get to know each other. Would you enjoy that?”

Taking her out on a date… maybe a nice lunch at a music hall… Husk couldn’t help but smile at that idea. “Okay. It’s a date.”

“Sounds good!” she said, her bright smile chasing away even a little bit of the dark cloud that always loomed over Husk’s mind. “As for tonight… did you still wanna?”

Husk felt pathetic before the words even left his mouth. “...can we just cuddle tonight?”

Instead of shaming him for the uncharacteristic request for affection, she wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed. “Of course. Cuddling sounds nice.”

“...and can you stay until morning this time?”

“I’ll stay,” she promised, sealing it with a kiss on his cheek.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel husk x reader #hazbin husk x reader #irk blubbers about nothing #irk got asked a thing #irk talks to strangers #irk huskposts

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shieldofiron · 5 months

Text

When I first joined this fandom in late 2022, I had some traction with some stories. And some people reached out to see if I wanted to join a discord server that was owned by a person who at the time had over 1000 followers and posted quite frequently. She was popular, though she presented herself as much more popular than she was. Let’s call her Z.

I did not connect with everyone there, in fact I was uncomfortable for reasons I will go into in a moment, but there were some people I really did connect with, and I stayed to be close to them. And then one day, my closest friend there was kicked out of the space with little to no explanation. He begged the mods and Z, formerly his close friends, and was blocked. I combed the server, but I couldn’t find anything that he did that in my opinion was worth kicking him out. Then he began losing followers and receiving many hurtful and upsetting anons on his tumblr. Angry, because I suspected they had something to do with it, I stopped posting in there and later left. I was disgusted that this was going on and they were acting to my face like it wasn’t, and still sucking up to me about my stories. He said he was worried about me believing him, believing that whatever he did, he didn’t understand what it was. But having witnessed Z’s behavior in her server I had no problem believing it was her and her friends.

Z used to find fanfiction or art of ships that she didn’t like, and @ everyone in the server to come look at it, despite knowing it was extremely distressing for some members. If you protested that you had no issue with these ships in fiction but that maybe you didn’t want to see that on a Tuesday at work in the general chat, Z and her closest friends would harass you (me) to say that it was bad, and evil. She often called for people to unfollow these artists, or block users who she had found and showed to us without any participation on our part. Despite this she frequently became interested in dead dove subject matter, but it was always ok when she did it. Boundaries did not exist to her, except for the boundaries of her taste and how she thought the world should be. Z would routinely make jokes about sensitive subjects like trans rights, and let's just say it felt like it wasn’t her place. But don’t worry, Z would say, I have friends who are [joke she had made] [from country she had insulted] so it’s fine. There’s only so many times you can hear a joke like that and not wonder why it’s being made over and over. If you were offended, everything was a joke, or there was something you didn’t understand.

This server was a deeply uncomfortable space. Many times I felt harassed over my politics, over my opinions in fiction, and it was often easier to just swallow this. When I met my friends there, they showed courage standing up for themselves and I am so glad that I found them. With them, my experiences of this fandom lightened enormously. Z and her friends had made me so paralyzed, paranoid and unhappy. I had been afraid to even talk about my race however tangentially. I was afraid to make posts against anti behavior, because they had so twisted the way I thought the Billy fandom would perceive them. Thankfully I do not think that the majority of the fandom agrees with her views.

Z apparently has been presenting harassing my friend as a misunderstanding. Perhaps the misunderstanding is that she thinks any of this is harmless. Misunderstandings can be overcome, discussed, apologized for. If someone is confused, you can explain, you can be civil. There was no discussion.

Z made no effort, except to further talk about him and others behind their backs. She never reached out to clear anything up at any time. Her excuses when she made them were frankly shocking. And she never explained to me why my friend was so dangerous, but hid behind fake apologies and more popular friends, lying to my face like things were all good. My friend made a post when he felt safe with her username and the username of another person who harassed him. My friends that I kept from that server are the bravest people I know who understand that reputation means nothing if you can’t look at your own actions with conviction. And Z went away for a time.

Until I earlier this year, I was invited to a very large Billy server. Immediately I was confused by a user I had seemingly never seen before who had me blocked. It was Z, with a new name. She had me blocked until she saw me interacting positively with a very popular artist. Then I somehow became unblocked. Which was very interesting. I came to find that she was very close friends with them or tried to be. She appeared to be very close with the owner of the server too.

I was obviously wary but who knows. People can change. I really believe that. Unfortunately I do not believe that she has changed yet.

All of her old behavior was back as was my paranoia and fear. And it appeared that, emboldened by her friendship with the owner of the server and others, she felt safe going even further. Here was finally what she had craved, a large platform and popularity to continue her previous behavior. I later came to find out that the owner of the server had her own issues with bullying others, twisting the truth, and other, much more serious things. They showed the same character that Z always did, sweet to my face and sour behind everyone’s back. Yet again people said that they worried they wouldn’t be believed. They were afraid of the fandom famous people who were their friends.

Perhaps it’s just me, but if I had been called out in the past for bullying a trans person online I would distance myself from any appearance of transphobia or bullying or lying. Not Z. She in fact announced that she would bully the mods and “everyone” in the server when people joined. I am not paraphrasing, she said he was a bully so often that it was almost comical. She openly said she was an anti when someone confronted her over AGAIN trying to publicly shame authors and create mass unfollowing campaigns. There were no or minimal consequences for this. She would casually bring up the same old jokes and dogwhistles that she used to, uglier with time, and to me pathetically stripped of anything that could have excuse them.

Nobody told me these things. I saw it with my own eyes. But still, somehow, she was the hero, the popular beloved person in every story. I was afraid because she had very powerful friends. Or at least she pretended she did. Because she was friends with a server owner who hurt people I cared about. I am still afraid now. But I’d rather do it afraid for my friends than watch this happen.

I would give up every stupid note on every stupid meme if it meant trans people, and all vulnerable people, felt safe in fandom spaces. I am tired of dishonest communication and trying to play some stupid game I never fucking cared about. If some popular person wants to crush me like a grape for believing my friends, they can go ahead and do it already.

Everybody wants to be liked, everybody wants to be believed. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to be liked. But I’m done waiting for people to believe me or like me. I’m done waiting for people to wake up and take a look in the mirror. To explain and to deign themselves to listen. I believe in my friends. I believe my eyes, and I believe in my own convictions. That’s enough for me.

I believe people can change. I hope they do. But I hope they do away from vulnerable people who they can hurt carelessly.

I’m not blocking you. Clean up your own mess.

#fandom wank #but is it tho #harringrove #fandom discourse #applewillowstone #flashwaves #harringrovepolls

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jerzwriter · 4 months

Text

A Time to Heal

Trystan x Carolina

One thing is for certain. When @/artbyainna (IG) comes to bat, she only hits home runs. I have run out of superlatives to describe how incredible her art is a long, long time ago... but she did it again! I simply love this!

Book: Crimes of Passion (Post Series) Pairing: Trystan Thorne x F!MC (Carolina Rose) Rating: Mature / 18+ / NSFW Words: 1,500 Summary: After a rough day on the job, Carolina & Trystan return to her apartment, where Trystan wants nothing more than to take care of her. But in the end, they realize they do their best healing together. A/N: @lexicook74-blog asked for a Trystan x Carolina hurt/comfort fic a long, long time ago. I can take a long time to get to them, but I'm determined to do all asks sent to me :) I hope you like it! Submitting to @choicesjunechallenge2024. It doesn't fit any of the prompts completely, but we can see indecision before he surrenders.

The two flights of stairs that led to Carolina’s apartment were something she and Trystan typically navigated with ease. If she took double steps, she'd be upstairs in a matter of seconds. Sometimes, Trystan would yell, “Race you!” when he already had a three-step lead, and they’d both end up panting before her door in an instant. But today wasn’t a typical day.

Trystan trudged along, inches behind his limping partner, who let out a soft whimper with every other step she took. Ensuring she got upstairs was his only concern, so he did his best to conceal his own pain. With just four steps to go, he thought he was in the clear when a muscle spasm seized his back and thwarted his plans.

“Ow! Ow, ow, ow... ouch!” He cried out in pain.

“Trystan,” Carolina exclaimed. “What’s wrong? I knew you were hurt, too!”

“It’s nothing,” he replied, trying to wave it off, but his clenched teeth said otherwise. “If the Drakovian press knew I was whining about something so superficial, the people would demand my passport be rescinded at once.”

Carolina shook her head and leaned against the door as she fished around the bottom of her purse to find her keys.

“Does everything have to tie back to some strange Drakovian lore?”

“Usually,” he smirked, placing a kiss on her cheek.

A feeling of tranquility washed over them as they stepped inside. Carolina’s apartment. It was small and far from fancy, but the warm, cozy space always gave them a sense of peace. At minimum, they were pretty sure the floor under their feet would support them. Something they hadn’t had the luxury of earlier today.

“Come,” he said, guiding her to the couch. “Let’s get you seated.”

“Me?” she protested. “But you’re hurt, too!”

“Your hip is badly bruised and you’ve been limping! I still say you should have seen a doctor! You’re hurt. I merely have a boo-boo.”

“A boo-boo?” Carolina chuckled as he sat beside her. “Can I kiss it and make it all better?”

The smirk on his lips and the fire coming alive in his eyes made his thoughts clear, but ensuring his girlfriend was all right was his priority this evening.

“If you’re a good girl and let me take care of you, maybe I’ll let you tend to my boo-boos later.”

He rose from the couch to get Carolina an ice pack, but she reached for his hand and stopped him in his tracks.

“No, stay with me.”

“Lina,” he sighed. “Let me take care of you! You fell through a floor in an abandoned building today!”

“Ehh,” she shrugged. “It’s all in a day’s work. I’ve been through much worse. Besides, you fell through that same floor!”

“I just pulled a muscle,” he said, arching his back. “It’s nothing.”

“Well, mine is really nothing, too. We were quite lucky.”

“Of course we were,” he grinned, placing a buss on her lips. “You’re my good luck charm, after all.”

“Please,” she laughed. “Your life has been filled with one nightmare after another since we met. I’m hardly your good luck charm.”

“Ah, but I survived every one of those challenges, some of them largely because of you, so I’m sorry, Detective Rose. You’re my good luck charm. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to make you chicken soup.”

“Chicken soup?” She queried. “That’s for colds and the flu, not two idiots falling through a ceiling.”

“Yes, but in times of trouble... we go with what we know. So, chicken soup it is.”

An hour later, they sat at the kitchen table, still sore, but full bellies delivered some relief.

“See, I told you,” Trystan mumbled as he bit into a crusty piece of bread. “Chicken soup heals all.”

“I guess,” Carolina smiled but quickly winced as her aches reminded her they were far from gone.

“Are you OK?”

“Just sore. I’m thinking of taking two Advil and then getting into a hot bath.”

“Don’t say another word!” He took their plates and began clearing the table. “I’ll go run the water for you.”

“Trystan, I can run my own bath!”

“Nope! This is not a battle you will win.”

“Fine,” she laughed. “I’ve learned to choose my battles with you. But make sure you add the new bubble bath we bought. This is a great time to start using it”

Moments later, Trystan helped Carolina to the bathroom; her face lit up when she saw what he had done. The scent of the lavender bubble bath wafted through the air, as dozens of little candles glistened around her old clawfoot tub, washing the room in a mystical glow.

“Trystan,” she smiled. “What did you do!”

“I can’t expect you to convalesce in an unsuitable environment.”

“You spoil me,” she sighed.

“And you better get used to it.”

Trystan helped her out of her clothes, becoming more transfixed with each new item that fell to the floor. Carolina was stunning, and he always found her irresistible; but the combination of candlelight and moonlight pouring in the window reflecting on her skin, their shadows accentuating every delicate curve on her body, it left him breathless.

But that’s not what tonight was about, and when he felt his body begin to stir, he deliberately turned away. Relieved when she slipped into the warm water. With her exquisite figure concealed under a plethora of bubbles, his primal urges began to dissipate.

“Ahhhh,” she breathed, as her tension drifted away. “This is just perfect.”

Trystan placed a small table with strawberry-infused water within her reach, then kneeled beside the tub, gently bopping her nose with a bubble-strewn finger.

“You’re perfect.”

But Carolina's mood visibly shifted when he stood up and asked if she needed anything before he left.

“Leaving? Why are you leaving?” She tapped the water gently with an open hand. “There is plenty of room in here; I was hoping you’d join me.”

“But I want you to relax; you took quite a fall today.”

“Trystan,” she said with an arched brow. “You took the same fall! Now, get in here with me. That’s an order.”

“Well, if it’s an order...” he smirked.

Quickly removing his clothes, he slid into the tub across from his love, letting out a deep sigh the moment his body was submerged. With his arms stretched over the tub's sides and his legs rubbing against Carolina’s silky skin he wondered why this hadn't been his plan all along.

“This is divine,” he swooned.

“I told you! No way was I going to let you miss out on this.”

“And for that, I thank you!”

They closed their eyes, reclining in the soothing waters for a long while; but when Trystan opened his eyes again, he found Carolina’s sultry brown eyes peering at him, a playful grin on her face.

“Yessss?” He droned.

“Do you have any idea how sexy you are in this lighting?”

“In this lighting?" He said, feigning insult. "I thought I looked sexy in all lighting!"

Carolina barked out a laugh. “That goes without saying, of course! But in this lighting... you’re especially desirable.”

Carolina was stunned; perhaps the candlelight was impeding her vision, but she swore she saw Trystan Thorne blush.

“You’re one to talk,” he whispered. “You’re simply ravishing.”

The lapping water made delicate sounds as Carolina pushed herself up and moved closer to Trystan. This allowed him a quick peek at her luscious curves before he felt them pressed firmly against his chest.

“Then, why aren’t you ravishing me," she purred in his ear.

Trystan thought he might melt into the water. “Lina,” he moaned. “What are you doing to me?”

Her pride morphed into a smile as she dragged her hand up his thigh, then slowly, excruciatingly slowly, skimmed her fingers along his hardened length.

“I haven’t done anything yet,” she teased. “But that’s about to change.”

He let out a muffled growl when her arms wrapped around him, stoking her desire even more.

“Lina, you’re hurt," he said, offering one last out.

“I’m fine!"

“I want you to feel better!”

She pushed back with seductive eyes, just begging to be taken.

“If you want me to feel better... I can offer some suggestions on how you can do that.”

His erection pulsated against her thigh, and she silently lauded herself for her restraint at that moment.

“Are you sure?” he whispered as her hands sunk under the water grasping him at his base, pleasuring him with slow, deliberate strokes until he quivered beneath her.

“100% sure,” she hissed, parting his lips with her tongue, entangling it with his for a long, sensual kiss.

The grin on his face couldn’t have been wider when they parted. “If you keep doing this, I'll see to it that we fall through ceilings together every day."

Carolina straddled him, placing him at her center before holding him tight. Unbridled shrieks of pleasure filled the air as she slowly sank down on him. He reached up and cupped her breasts just as he filled her completely. She closed her eyes, remaining still for just a moment to savor the feeling, and then, with a wicked grin she began to grind shamelessly against him.

If either had a worry about the water that splashed onto the floor, they certainly didn't show it as they brought each other to the precipice of pleasure again, and again until they unraveled in each other's arms.

“I don’t know what doctor recommended this treatment plan,” Trystan said trying to catch his breath. “But I really need to thank them.”

"What, this is how I fix boo-boos?" Carolina smiled.

"Then, I need to thank you."

Shortly after, the couple curled up in bed... completely in need of painkillers to soothe their aching muscles. But the blissful smiles on their faces as they drifted off to sleep made it very, very clear... sore muscles be damned, it had all been worth it.

@choicesficwriterscreations

#crimes of passion #trystan thorne #trystan thorne x f!mc #trystan x carolina #playchoices #choices stories you play #choices fanfic #choices fanart

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rinasunny · 1 year

Text

The Lavatory scene in Red Eye's final shooting script and the movie

One of my previous posts was about how much the first script draft of Red Eye differed from the final product. The draft discussed in this post is more or less final. This draft has all the changes made after Rachel and Cillian were cast as leads and after the test screenings. But there are still some features which didn't make the cut into the final product. I'm not gonna analyse the whole script here, but shippers' favorite scene - the lavatory scene. Yeah, you can always rely on this scene to bring some juicy stuff.

SPOILERS AHEAD

Okay let's start from the moment Lisa enters the bathroom alone.

Frankly speaking, for now, I prefer the movie version. Especially the line "Okay, get up" instead of "Oh my God..." Wes Craven said in the DVD commentary about this moment:

This was tricky, between making her totally collapse, but not have her totally pathetic. And she very quickly gets herself under control.

Next, there is an interesting description of Rippner:

Also, the message on the mirror was meant to be revealed slightly earlier, but whatever.

I'm not sure about Rippner's lines here, because half of it is barely audible in the film. Also quite ironic that the underlined part is not in the movie at all.

Okay, now really important stuff starts kicking in. Rippner practically spills out the fact that he is ATTRACTED to Lisa right at her face. The script makes it clear, that she now knows this and tries to use his attraction (and his regret) to persuade him to give up on Keefe assassination plan. Funny enough, she almost succeeds until he notices her scar. Personally, I think "You're beautiful..." line (and hair brushing) should have stayed in the final cut. Not only for the sake of the ship, but for the fact that without it Lisa's "You don't have to do this" sounds really naive.

Some of you may argue that this is all relevant for the movie, they just made it more subtle. Well, Movie-Lisa's best guess that Movie-Rippner might be attracted to her is the way Cillian looks at Rachel. On one hand many people point out that they do have chemistry and sexual tension, on the other the movie on its own leaves watchers to wonder whether the characters had any romantic feelings towards each other or not. And I probably stumbled upon a comment on YouTube, which interpreted the "You don't have to do this" line more as "You're so pretty, why do you have to be evil?" (or something along these lines)

Also I think that clarification would make Lisa a more nuanced character (by the fact that she tries to manipulate a villain into giving up on his villainy).

Also, as you may have noticed, the scar was meant to be on her neck, makes sence, given her backstory (He held a knife to my throat). I guess they moved it down just so Rippner wouldn't notice it earlier (though the script also mentions, that Lisa was meant to wear a sweater). I, personally, on the back of my horny mind, think he wasn't looking for scar when he gazed on her breast ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°).

A little note: Script-Lisa looks away saying "No" while Rachel looks straight into his eyes, but starts trembling instead.

By the way, Rippner wasn't meant to slam and choke her just yet.

I guess he just let her out to wipe out the messege. Here Lisa gives up on conving him.

Only after he finished wiping he starts to choke her. Also, pay CLOSE ATTENTION on what Rippner's lips do here ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). Yep, he almost kisses her.

I guess the changes movie made here were for the sake of pacing.

Another important difference: Rippner fixes both their outlooks to be more presentable. Lisa protests a bit.

I guess the movie crew decided they don't need to fix their look that much.

Also, I prefer the movie's "Peachy" instead of just "Good", though both lines are in the movie lol.

On the final note, I guess "Thanks for the quickie" line makes a bit more sence given we have Rippner's crawling lips there ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°).

So, these were the differences of the lavatory scene between the script and the movie. Hope you had as much shipping excitement as I did.

P.S: The link to the script. If you're a fan I strongly suggest to download it, it may easily become a lost media, like an earlier draft.

#red eye #red eye 2005 #jackson x lisa #jackson rippner #lisa reisert #cillian murphy #rachel mcadams #wes craven #carl ellsworth

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mtftm-bustyboy · 10 days

Text

Amber's Addiction CW//: Detransition Kink MtFtM, Accidental Exhibitionism, Gooning, Identity Death, Corruption

Amber was in shock. As she scrolled through her feed, she had come across something that was like a slap to the face. Among all of her mutuals reblogs and posts, that were broadly speaking celebrating trans pride or sharing cute art, amber could simply not believe what she was seeing. A video of her trans friend, Stephanie, being roughly fucked by an ambiguous stud. Amber's face contorted with horror and disgust, as she heard the pleas and deep grunts for "more" escaping Stephanie's agape mouth with every thrust. Stephanie looked very different between now and her last post she made 7 months ago, but was still recognizable. She was once a petite, effeminate figure, that had an enviable transition. But now, it was as if she had stopped taking her hormones all together. Her body, although still slender, was much more masculine and boyish. Were her breasts once lay, thick pecks of lean muscle took their place. Her cherub facial features had been chiseled away, into a handsome visage. But most notable of all, was their cock. So long and hard. Twitching away with pleasure, as the stud powerfully hammered into their backside.

Amber wanted to look away, she wanted to look away so badly, but something was stopping her.

Her eyes slowly lingered over to the text that accompanied the video. Trying her best not to sneak glances at the vulgar display, she read that Stephanie had "given up on being a fakegirl" and was "now his daddy's boytoy, called Stephan". It closed on a statement: "You fakegirls should really detransition too, I know most of you don't really want to be girls away~".

Amber felt a weird shiver run down her body, not discernible between disgust or arousal. She couldn't believe Stephani-, Stephan would do something like this. Sh-, the-, he was such a shy and kind person before. Why wouldn't he just announce his detransition and move on? Why all the degenerate, transphobic theatrics? As the questions accumulated in her mind, her eyes drifted back to the video of Stephan. He had this dumb, happy smile on his face that would occasionally shift to an O of deep pleasure. His cock somehow seemed to be even harder, with dripping precum beginning to soil his bed sheets. The shiver began to lean towards arousal.

With a sudden need to distract herself, Amber turned to the comments. A small handful of her mutuals shared a similar feeling, showing their disgust. But to her surprise, as she turned over to the likes, their number completely overshadowed the small amount of protest. Hundreds of likes, quickly becoming thousands, as the same accounts and mutuals that were posting trans pride posts merely moments ago showed a silent support among a tide of others.

Amber finally found the willpower to close the tab. She quickly got up from her desk and decided it was time for a quick walk outside to clear her head.

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

As Amber slowly sauntered around her street, she couldn't help but see small glimpses of Stephan's video replaying in her mind. As she tried to distract herself, looking at the empty cul-de-sac scenery, something within her stirred - lingering on just how, happy he looked. Deeply pleasured, yes, but the way he smiled? It was like nothing she had seen from Stephan before. Even if he had become this, depraved pervert, he seemed so genuinely euphoric... She began to linger on that word, as she slipped into the creeping thoughts and memories of Stephan. Taking in his chiseled physique, his handsome face - his big, fat, juicy cock. Amber halted her pace, as she took in every forbidden detail in her minds eye. As the thoughts began to enshroud Amber's mind, she was suddenly caught off guard as she found herself imagining what she would look like, bouncing on such a masculine stud like an eager boyt-...

No. No. No. She wasn't like him. She isn't a debased "fakegirl". She wasn't faking anything. And she isn't fantasizing about this. She's just feeling, confused. That's the word for all this. Confusion. She was simply curious and perplexed at the whole ordeal, and nothing more.

She tried to maintain her composure as she walked into a backstreet path to clear her head.

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

Amber huffed as she closed her front door. Slowly taking off her coat, her eyes drifted to the mirror that flanks her homes corridor. She looked like a complete mess, far sweatier than when she normally comes back from a walk. And most importantly of all, was the massive bulge of an erection that proudly stretched the fabric of her sweatpants. She looks down sheepishly. It had been months since her coc-, penis had been this engorged. She couldn't believe she hadn't even noticed it. Especially with how tight it felt.

She wondered, in horror, at how long it had been like this. Did she, walk past other people looking like this? The question began to rake at her mind, as thoughts back to passersby flickered in her head. Some of them certainly tried their best to look the other way. But a few smiled back, eagerly.

Ambers mind began to race at the idea. As did her cock begin to twitch, begging for her attention. She then, made the connection that she had so pleasantly ignored all this time. As she was lingering on Stephan's video... she was walking around the street with a massive erection...

The shame of it all washed over her, crashing into another tide of sudden, inescapable pleasure. There was no denying it now. The video. The shame. The, dysphoria and confusion of it all. It made Amber horny.

She squirmed, as a last attempt to step away from the feeling. But was quickly swept back as she felt her member wobble up against her sweatpants. A small moan escaped her lips, as she staggered her way into her bedroom and opened up her PC. As it booted up, she practically tore off her clothes until she was just in her pretty, satin, panties; that now barely contained her.

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

Immediately, she opened up her socials, and furiously clicked through to find Stephan's account. As she scrolled, she came upon fresh content to indulge her feral gaze. Whilst she had gone for a walk, Stephan had clearly been busy. Showing off his new, lean, twink body; with accompanying captions, like "Im such a good boy for Daddy 😵‍💫", and "my fakegirl self died on my Daddy's dick lmao".

Her other hand slithered its way to her cock, pulling furiously at her tight panties.

Deep waves of pleasure swarmed her mind, as her petite, manicured hand tugged away. She felt so wrong doing this. Amber never liked masturbating before, it always made her feel so shameful and dysphoric.

She couldn't help but stare longingly at every post. Among all of the arousal, confusion, and dysphoria, she began to feel a burning envy creep up from her stomach. Stephan looked so hot in every picture, every video; and he looked so, happy and dazed. Amber began tugging at her cock with a mix of hatred and jealousy. Why doesn't being a girl make her feel as good as him? Shes felt cute in dresses before, sure, but never so - blissful.

As she scrolled, her envy boiled away as the confusion swept away at her own confidence and identity. Soon, she was becoming completely lost in the pleasure of pumping her cock up and down to care. She hadn't felt this good in ages. She never knew her cock could make her feel this, fucking, good.

As one hand pumped, and the other scrolled, Amber began to come across various reblogs of other mutuals announcing their detransition - the same as Stephan. Each and every one, sharing the rhetoric, that they were so much happier as " femboys" or "himbos", or just "guys". All of them mocking their past "fakegirl" selves.

Amber's eyes were locked onto her screen in a hypnotic trance, as every pulse of pleasure from her cock echoed throughout her body. Her mind, a complete and utter haze, it was as if she began to think with her cock.

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Hours had passed, whether Amber recognized it so or not. And the shame of it all had been pumped away into an addicting sensation. "She could get used to this", she muttered to herself.

Her body was completely drenched and hot, her arm now rhythmically taking its time to pump her shaft. Although she was exhausted, she just couldn't stop herself from scrolling and searching for more posts. For more 'fakegirls' that have tossed aside their identities for the pleasures of their natural body.

Her light moans had become deeper huffs and grunts, her voice training slowly crumbling away, returning her to a more boyish tone.

As she took notice to her change of tone, she found herself overcome with the urge to moan aloud "I'm a dirty fakegirl~". Where shame would of once overtook her, her expression lit up into a dumb smile. "Nnnghh, I'm a confused fakegirl who loves his cooock~"

Amber slowly contemplated what she just said. It was one thing to admit she was a fakegirl, but to so eagerly use his as a pronoun? It just made his cock twitch in his hand... "Fuck... my cock feels so good." The thought quickly took him away from any ounce of shame, and the dumb smile split across his face once more.

Suddenly, the sharp sound of a notification pulled his attention away to a DM. It was Stephan...

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FakegirlFemboy (Stephan): Soooo cutie - its been a while :P . I noticed you've been scrolling and liking my blog. You seem to be really taking a liking to all my fakegirl correction posts~ In fact, you've liked so many I couldn't help but get a feeling you were crying for my attention... How about I help you out, just like my Daddy did? I know a quick way to fix you.

Amber's heart raced, as he found himself responding with hesitation.

HRT-Is-Praxis (Amber): Yes please. Stephan replied in haste.

FakegirlFemboy: Good boy~ I always knew you were a faker. Those selfies of you smiling never looked right lol. But we're going to fix that now, don't worry honey~ Now,you're going to do a few things for me - but most importantly before we do anything else, we need to change your name to something more manly ;P I was thinking... Ambrose. Does that sound good to you? Amber deliberated for a moment, and thought back onto how good he would look bouncing on top of a handsome stud. HRT-Is-Praxis: Ambrose sounds good. FakegirlFemboy: I thought you'd like it~ Good boy, Ambrose. So, I'm going to send you a couple links. The first one is to a detransition kink discord server; you're gonna find lots of familiar names in there, so you're gonna fit in just fine. The second one is a google drive that has detransition kink goon captions, MtFtM hypno videos, and even simple mantras for you to edge your cock to; once you're settled, you can feel free to add your own content~ And lastly, I'm gonna hook you up with Daddy~ He's gonna break that fakegirl brain of yours, until you're just another one of his eager femboy sluts. Oh and of course you'll have to change up your blog lmao. "HRT-Is-Praxis" just isn't going to work anymore sweetie. Ambrose found himself pumping away again zealously, as the reality of the situation was hitting him. HRT-Is-Praxis: Thank you, sir, I can't wait to stop being a stupid fakegirl. FakegirlFemboy: Why wait silly? How about we get you setup with some detransition porn and hypno~ You can pump the fakegirl out of your cock tonight to get yourself ready for daddy. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ambrose was edged out of his mind. With every pulse, his firm grip sliding up and down his cock, he was compelled to mutter some denouncement of his fakegirl self. As the soft tones of a baritone voices hummed away in his headphones, swarming his mind with thoughts of giving into his detransition. His brain fog turned into a thick haze. Ambrose wasn't capable of thinking with his head anymore. All he could mutter and moan about, was whatever his cock yearned for. As he pumped and pumped and pumped and pumped~ It was as if his 'fakegirl' self, where ever it was currently locked away in his mind, was slowly shrinking away into nothingness.

One by one, Ambroses memories began to fade away as the hypnosis drowned out his mind. He felt his urges erupt into a blazing fire, as his moans turned into animalistic groans. His hand, dripping in sweat and pre cum, tugged and fondled his dripping, twitching cock. A sudden rush of orgasm slowly crept on the horizon, as the memories of being a fakegirl has all but escaped him, and his current task of repeating allowed "I'm a good boy" set his mind into pinpoint focus.

And as the hypnotic voice commanded: "Good boy, now cum for me - slut" Ambrose released rope after rope in a stream of ecstacy, the same dumb, euphoric expression contorting across his face.

With heavy breaths, he lay back in his chair, still slowly pumping away at his cock. Ambrose began to contemplate, briefly, about what he was, or what he was doing. Not long before his attention was caught back to the hypnotic voice and porn.

Even his morning alarm could not seperate him from his new fate. Bound to indulging in his cock, until Amber would never be heard from again - and only Ambrose would remain.

#detrans kink #fakegirl #mtftm kink

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