#must watch whiplash next | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

the-fandom-is-now-my-life · 4 months

Note

I apologize in advance, but the brainworms did a heckin screech and I felt the need to share the chaos.

Imagine, if you will, that our Creator let's it slip that they've interacted with other worlds before reaching Teyvat. (Played other video games) Imagine having to explain that in these other worlds, they may or may not have been interested in the denizens of those realms...sometimes in the romantic sense, which led to wedding bells and/or children.

Cue the uproar from the Genshin cast. The Creator, Blessed Maker of All...you have courted others? Have been married?? You have had children??? Their image of you being pure and untouchable, blown apart into tiny little pieces of confetti. 🎉

Though many loathe to admit it, they are curious...who are these people, what are they like? Is there a common factor in your selection of spouses? You would only pick the very best of a realm to choose as a potential partner, surely another being of creation...or perhaps a demigod?

It leads to the proverbial red string board getting made, the Archons trying to find out who is your most likely pick from their regions. It's all for your safety, your Benevolence! If you insist on having a partner, they must find the perfect match for you! You deserve only the best of the best, after all.

Bonus points if the Creator was a fan of games like the Harvest Moon/Rune Factory series. They're gonna need to make a list of all their partners, there are so many options to choose from. >>_>>

I'll admit I never played any of those games so I skimmed through the harvest moon wiki and chose one of the bachelors and chose some other game characters lol. Plus a game for all of you, guess the characters.

Though I do think that the reader having children before causes a bit of whiplash because it's totally unexpected, mostly because there were no records of you taking spouses or kids, even knowing you ‘have’ (play) other worlds is a surprise that causes a bit of a crisis. Either way here are some head cannons.

“I must admit, your grace is awfully attached to Qiqi” Zhongli hums as he blows on his white tea, a small cloud of steam leaving.

Qiqi doesn't pay him much mind, her head coddled under your chin like a little puppy, between her hands there is a small bird plushie “Well, I must admit she does kind of remind me of one of my little ones” Your hand softly pats her head, a few strands of hair moving as you do.

He stills as you spoke, eyes fixated on his cup “your… little ones?”

“Mhm?” Without looking up from the braid you were giving to the little girl you just nod “yep, she is quite soft spoken like Milenoe”

“... I wasn't aware your grace had sired children” there was never any mentions about holy spawns or spouses taken by you in any manuscript he got his hands on.

“Well, I never chose a couple from this world, so there wouldn't be any descendants” the comment slips airly from your lips as Qiqi slides off your lap towards baizhu who had finished checking the books from your bookshelf. “Do you want to see her? She started elementary school a few weeks ago” without waiting for an answer a screen appears displaying a tall man with black hair and horns standing regally behind you and a child with emerald eyes and horns.

“She looks rather shy”

You hum nodding “she is as shy as her father when he was her age. There aren't many children her age she can play with so she was pretty lonely her first 50 years”

“50 years?”

“her dad is a slow maturing species” so it should be 10 times the life expectancy than humans. Not that long for him but certainly longer than usual.

•°•°•

“It's a wonder to see how you manage to get Klee to change her mind about going fish blasting,” albedo scribbles some data half mindedly as he watches you hover next to Klee, who showed you a new drawings every few minutes “she is so stubborn even with Alice”

“Well I do have experience with headstrong children, Pardine is as focused on her goal as her father” one of your hands fall on her blonde hair, bright but still darker than Pardine’s almost champagne blonde and her red eyes polar opposite to her icy ones, a carbon copy to her dad. Even if your genetics rarely showed up on any of your kids it was uncanny how similar she looked to her dad and aunts “but I will admit she does annoy many guards asking to train her”

Albedo just laughs it off, listing the few loose characteristics of one of her spouses. Venti has been annoying him about his nation almost getting no information so he hopes a few spare tidbits and Klee’s rough drawing of a blond blue eyed man with a big shield works for whatever weird thing the archons have going on.

•°•°•

“Your Grace has married before?!” Ayaka gasps as you take a stroll around the nature surrounding her home. Her hand had swiftly unfolded her fan in front of her face.

“Mhm, I don't know why people get so surprised, after all it would be weirder if I spent so much time somewhere but took no lovers” you laugh at her slightly seeing her slightly flustered “it's almost a tradition at this point, to wed someone from each world. Want to see some family portraits?” She nods fervently looking at the tablet like thing that appeared on your hands, first a white haired cowboy like man is kneeling on the ground holding a baby by the armpits surrounded by three wolves ,seemingly playing with an older child, by the time the next imagine passes Ayaka is almost hanging by your shoulder, asking things about the siblings and begging to see more photos of your babies.

“And who did you take from teyvat?” Ayaka looks up sweetly at you, she has always held you in high regard and now that you are in Inazuma she can't help but get giddy thinking about how you decided to spend the stay in her state and most of your time with her.

Feigning surprise you tap your chin with your index finger “now that I think about it I didn't choose anyone yet... maybe it's about time”

“Then that means you could pick my brother!” She wraps her hand around your own, smiling as if she got the best idea ever “I could even call you older sibling!... If you wanted so of course”

“Big brother you remember how you told me you would find me a proper bachelor”

“If this is about wanting me to rush it won't work”

“It's not about it, I found you someone”

“Fine, as you please, need I remind you my standards are quite high”

“It's their grace!... Why are you choking on your tea!?”

•°•°•

“There isn't one damned coincidence…” Raiden slaps her head against the table with the rough drawings and some information about them “a king, a captain, a cowboy, a damned sorcerer…”

“Maybe there isn't supposed to be a coincidence” Nahida guesses “maybe they just look for someone who catches their eye”

“It doesn't help out as much as you think it does” the tsaritsa crosses her legs and leans against the back of the chair “if we are doing people with very clear characteristics maybe Ajax could fit nicely? Redheads aren't very common”

“Mhm, maybe but don't they have a liking for smart men? Then Alhaitham would be closer to their past couples”

“Well if we are going by that logic they should like the geo archon, as one of them has dragonic features” the tsaritsa side eyes Zhongli from the other side of the table.

Sighing deeply Furina, who came in place of Neuvillette, chimes in “It is their decision who they want to marry and even if they wanted to!”

"obviously you would be so calm, after all they are very close with your iudex. Don't get so cocky, I heard the commissioner Ayato is interested in the idea"

#genshin impact #gi #sagau #genshin x reader #self aware genshin impact #genshin sagau #x reader #gn reader

343 notes · View notes

adverbally · 1 month

Text

Stunned By the Whiplash

———

When Steve wakes up in the emergency room at Hawkins Memorial, Eddie is nowhere to be found.

He blinks into awareness slowly, noting the empty chair at his bedside before he begins taking stock of how he feels. First and foremost, he is no longer upside down. Thank God. His chest still hurts, though he’s breathing easier. His neck is a little sore and his headache is almost gone. He’s in a curtained-off bed in the corner of the ER, so he must not be doing too badly.

Despite these positive signs, Eddie’s absence is glaring. He must have been successful in getting help, at least. Maybe he just hadn’t made it back to the car before emergency services, or maybe they wouldn’t let him ride in the ambulance. The part of Steve’s brain that tends to catastrophize wants to panic but it feels very far away. They must have given him some good medication.

It makes him sleepy, too, so he dozes for a few minutes before the grating noise of metal wakes him again.

Eddie looks exhausted as he pulls the curtain shut behind him with a wince at the sound of the rings scraping through the track. He has butterfly bandages over a couple of the deeper cuts on his forehead and cheek, but there are no other signs of injury. Steve is almost lightheaded with relief at the sight of him.

“Where were you?” Steve croaks.

Eddie jumps a little. When he realizes Steve is awake and talking to him, he looks instantly lighter, like the weight of worry has been lifted from him. “Payphones,” he explains. “Wayne’s shift finished a little while ago and I thought he would want to know why I wasn’t home.”

“Oh.” Just like that, it’s easy to relax back into the bed and forget what he was even worried about. Especially when Eddie comes to sit next to him and brushes his hair away from his forehead.

“How are you feeling?”

Steve shrugs. “Okay, I think? My chest still hurts when I breathe too deep.”

“If that’s your biggest complaint, I think we got off pretty easy.” Eddie leans back in his seat. The dark circles under his eyes are exaggerated by the harsh lights overhead.

Steve feels a stab of remorse for being the source of his fatigue. He reaches out, wiggling his fingers insistently until Eddie takes hold of his hand. “I’m sorry,” Steve tells him sincerely.

“It’s not like you did it on purpose,” Eddie chastises. “It was an accident, don’t apologize for that.” He presses a kiss to Steve’s knuckles.

“Still sorry I scared you.”

Eddie lets out a long sigh. “I’m just glad you’re okay. We were lucky that your lung didn’t collapse. Apparently that can happen with broken ribs? The doctor didn’t think you needed to be admitted, but she wanted to wait for you to wake up so they could make sure you don’t have brain damage.”

Steve raps his knuckles against the side of his head. “No more than usual.”

Eddie doesn’t laugh. His face is completely blank as he stares up at the ceiling tiles and fluorescent lights. “You know, I had to wait for them to get there? It felt like forever. I was trying to talk to you and you weren’t responding.” He bites his lip. “Then I stood there and watched them cut you out of your seat belt. You were, like, completely limp, no reaction at all, even when they bumped your ribs against the edge of the door.”

Understanding sinks like a stone in Steve’s stomach.

Eddie continues, “For about fifteen minutes, I was sure you were dead. I was already thinking about how to tell Robin and the kids, your parents…” He runs a hand over his face as he trails off with a shaky breath.

“Eddie, I’m so–”

“No, I’m not trying to make you feel bad, o-or, like, make it about me, I get the whole ‘dark humor as a coping mechanism’ thing. But I can’t joke about it yet.” When he looks back to Steve, his eyes are wet.

Steve squeezes his hand. “Okay, then. No jokes.” Like how Eddie doesn’t joke about the lights flickering or make fun of him for not using the pool in his backyard. It’s no sacrifice to make sure Eddie

“Thanks.” Eddie sniffs. “Now hit your call button so the doctor can check you out and we can get out of here.”

“In a sec.” Steve uses his grip on Eddie to pull them closer together until they meet in the middle and Steve can kiss him. It’s just a chaste press of lips, since they’re in public and neither of them is feeling up to anything more strenuous, but it lingers. Eddie’s other hand is on his jaw and they’re both okay. It settles something in Steve’s chest that has been uneasy since he woke up.

Steve pulls away when the strain on his ribs is too much to ignore. Eddie looks more relaxed already; he needed that moment, too. “Okay, I’m good now,” Steve announces.

“Okay.” Eddie’s smile is small but genuine.

———

Thanks to those of you who encouraged me to write this follow up to I’m a Victim of a Bad Crash!

@grtwdsmwhr @alwaysurvalentine @flustratedcas @shesnotthatserious @novacorpsrecruit

#steddieangstyaugust #steddie #steddie fic #steve x eddie #steve/eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #mine

278 notes · View notes

naffeclipse · 8 months

Text

Temperate Tail

Tigertaur!Eclipse x Reader. Sickness. Non-consensual touching. Kidnapping.

You moan quietly at the arms underneath you, lifting you away from the cool cave floor. Blearily, you peek between heavy eyelids to watch the deeper shadow of stone break away to red evening, burning into a black-blue twilight on the horizon. The leafy foliage flutters with a warm breeze. You shudder underneath it as the arms that hold you squeeze you a little too tightly. The motion of being carried away is not as smooth as the nagas ought to be.

Sun and Moon went to hunt for themselves. You thought they had only awakened you a moment ago, gently fed you another sensitive plant, and told you their plans.

They worried, whispered, but you had shooed them away. They can only hunt together in the dusk or dawn, and you’re well aware that they’ve kept from satisfying their stomachs to watch over you in your sickness. You can survive a little while on your own—all you do is sleep.

And the nagas are not the only dangerous creatures in the jungle.

“Back already?” your hoarse voice crackles under the ill strain to speak. You allow your head to loll against the firm arm cradling you.

You desperately long for the flower to kick in soon and spare you the furious whiplash effect of fevers one moment then chills the next. Sun and Moon have been diligent in tending to you; a fact you still have to stomach. Under their constant care, you’re useless, at their ever gentle mercy.

This body pressing you close is not the warmth of a sun-heated patch of grass nor the cool shadows stretching underneath a misty tree. It’s even, neutral, calm. The being is steady in a way that betrays the skilled strength hiding under short fur of orange and deep red. An unagitated killer, carrying away his prize prey.

Your eyelids fly open.

“Eclipse,” you half growl, half groan.

A large hand, tipped in compacted but curved claws, slaps over your mouth. Your weak protest is muffled under his near smothering palm. Deep red eyes flash in warning. His gait is swift and seamless, not the swaying motion you register with Sun or Moon. The beast holding you flies over the forest floor upon four tiger legs, his upper half bearing the resemblance of a man in form. The silent pads of his paws let him ghost through the forest, you caught in his muscular embrace.

His focus remains on the forest as it deepens with shadows and reddens with the last slips of sunrise. You boil internally, not only because of your sickness, but at how long he must have been lying in wait, watching, willing Sun and Moon to leave you for but a moment. The fiend.

Eclipse is the only beast who stands a chance against Sun and Moon, save for one other in this mad jungle.

You try to bite his hand but only succeed in scraping your teeth against his palm and getting hair in your mouth. His round ears flicker. Turning his head, he watches for a moment, still bounding between thick, mossy trees before resume his cunning getaway.

You want to snarl at him, threaten him, demand he puts you down now. His hand gags your every attempt to throw threats. Furious and festering in your feverish state, you struggle to find a way out of his arms. His claws press against your cheek, almost squishing the flesh against your molars. The promise of bruises hangs over his fingertips.

His own threat flares in his round, black pupils—so unlike the slitted gaze of Sun and Moon.

You glare at his orange, light yellow, and dark red mane-like growth of fur around his head, flaring around him like sun rays. He’s always made you think of a dark sunset, eclipsing a land of light. Upon his face, he’s marked by an orange and deep red jagged crescent, and around his deep red eyes are vertical white stripes that cut from the corner of his gaze.

Through the quiet buzz of the jungle, you fight his vice-like hold and your own fading strength while he carries you from the lush and verdant part of the jungle to tall grass, wild and whipping in the summer breeze, to thickets speckled with rocky crevices.

Eclipse’s territory. The pulse in your throat quickens. You try to kick but weakness sets upon your sickly form.

He stops in the center of the verdant field. His large head tilts down to gaze at you. The appetitive glint in his wine dark eyes fills you with acidic apprehension. He nimbly folds upon his tiger legs, sitting not unlike a cat pleased with the mouse he’s brought back. His large palm lifts away from your mouth—there’s no worry that Sun and Moon will hear you now. He lays you down on the thick grass. The emerald green colors darken just as the sun slips away, leaving a purple twilight against the sky. The lush vegetation brushes against you like strands of hair. You shudder.

“Take me back, right now,” you demand is overwhelmed by your croaking. That is not the fierceness with which you want to address Eclipse.

His wide grin upon his large head splits to reveal curved canines. He licks his teeth once. You force yourself to not flinch, though holding your head off of the ground is beginning to take its toll on your limited energy.

“No. You’re staying here, with me, until I say so.” He bows over you. Large tiger paws dig slightly into the moist dirt as his hands arch for you. “As if those two snakes were taking care of you. You still have a fever.”

You glare. He has too many limbs, too many claws to watch for. Though you fade under the aching pulse eradicating your body, you refuse to close your eyes for even a moment.

“I don’t need your help.” Before his hand takes a hold of you, you twist onto your belly. Shoving your knees up and working your elbows, you begin to crawl away—as slow and pitiful as you are, you refuse to stay here a moment more. You push with strength you do not have. Glass blades swipe against your arms. The almost muddy ground soaks into the fabric of your long khakis.

A large hand seizes your ankle. With a rattling breath sucked out of your lungs, you’re dragged back over the grass and flipped upright. Before you can curse him, Eclipse tucks you under his white hirsute belly of his lower tiger half, two massive paws pinning your arms by your sides. His weight holds you down like a striped blanket.

You groan sickly. Throwing him a half-lidded stare of disdain, you can only watch as Eclipse lays down on top of you, his arms crossed over your midsection as you struggle to breathe under his weight. He tilts his head, his mane-like fur too short to take after a lion, but the tufts are spikey and vibrate with orange, light yellow, and deep red hues.

“You won’t get any better crawling around in the mud,” he drips with derision. “Why are you so difficult?”

Clutching your hands into fists, you bare your teeth as if you had as sharp of fangs as him. He laughs. The harsh, sharp sound makes you vibrate within your ridiculously chilled body. If you weren’t sick—if you had your machete—

“Get off me,” you rasp.

“Relax, kitten,” he purrs, lifting a hand to trail a black claw over your arm, tracing from the crease of your elbow to the curve of your shoulder. “Don’t bite the hand that feeds you.”

He does not feed you, and you very much want to bite.

You shiver. Goosebumps prickle your skin under the lethal brush of the tiger’s hand. Your breath catches when his touch nears your neck. Your fever spikes. Caressing your throat, Eclipse’s claws linger on your jugular vein. The very beat of your heart pushes back on his presence. You will your frantic pulse to not give away the violent fear flooding your veins, too weak to throw him off you and run.

His deep red eyes flash with a predatory smugness. You squirm. In what you can only understand as delight, he shifts his hand to firmly press on your shoulder, restricting your movement further.

A moan slips past your teeth.

“I will make you feel better,” his throaty growl fills your body. You freeze, eyes wide like a gazelle.

“Eclipse,” you try to argue, but you cough.

Softly, so softly you almost don’t understand what’s happening, Eclipse begins to purr. You feel it within his tiger half as well as his chest. Fully laid out underneath him, deep rumblings fill you like the echoes of thunder. A strangely gentle vibrancy soothes the edge of the fever. You gasp quietly at how sweet the relief is—how swift and consuming it is of the ache that’s been plaguing you for a day and night now.

“What are you doing?” you ask, harsh in your allayed confusion.

“Giving you what you need: me.” His wicked maw splits into a wide smile. “Don’t deny you feel better. I can already see it in your face.”

“No,” you groan, but it’s not your best lie.

He laughs softer this time, condescending but adoring, as if he can’t get enough of your antics.

Internally, you writhe. The aching soreness, the flip-flopping of shuddering from chills and melting from the fever is washed away like mud from a stone, but you wonder if that could be due to the flower you consumed earlier. His purring… it is enticing, seductive in how it urges you to stop resisting. You hate that a sliver of you wants it. You loathe that you want him to keep taking away the sickness.

You’re useless. Eclipse has stalked you time and time ago, and pounced just when you were foolish enough to believe you were safe. Now, you don’t even have a weapon to brandish against him. He’s too swift and cunning—he always has you before you realize what’s happening.

A perfect ambush predator.

He keeps telling you that you need him. You have never revolted against such a bold declaration more than this. His bone-snapping strength and his sound-breaking speed are intimidating, certainly, but you won’t let him play with you.

He acts hungry, he keeps looking at you as if you were a sweet morsel, and you refuse to believe that he is anything but a monster yearning for flesh after he’s finished playing with his food.

Depleted of adrenaline and reserved energy, you can do nothing but soak in his healing rumbles.

Eclipse’s body lays lightly over your own. You carry vague suspicions that he’s not resting his full weight on you—crushing you to death is not his means of slaughter. He has far too many claws and a pair of powerful jaws for that. Instead, stomach to stomach, he longues over you as if soaking in the starry light. This close to your chest, you wonder how well he senses your angry heart.

Insects buzz through the grass. You have an urge to shiver in the lack of safety in the night, but Eclipse’s purring keeps you from feeling too aware of your surroundings. In the darkness, his orange and deep red hues have melted to a muted color. The length of his tail playfully flickers behind him, long and tipped in black. He is too cat-like, too large, to be trustworthy.

“Relax, sweet little kitten,” he croons in a low voice, “I’m not letting you go anywhere.”

You glower in the dark. His predator eyes can see your expression perfectly, but he only sneers in reply.

As if sweeping aside your ungrateful attitude, Eclipse plays with wisps of your hair, twirling the strands around his claws with a casual intrigue. He never tugs on the strands. You do little but breathe. His purrs are alleviating the worst and you need every ounce of strength you can steal to get away from him. The gleam of his deep red eyes become black in the crescent of moonlight.

He leans down. You turn your head away but that does little to stall his nuzzling. He rubs affectionately against your nose, your neck, even your hair, and you protest with loud grumblings. You squeeze your eyes shut at the stroke of his sleek fur—something so dangerous shouldn’t be so soft. A whimper escapes you, and you bite the inside of your cheek to hold back the next one. His purr picks up. He effortlessly ignores your half growled cursing while fussing his fuzzy short mane against your cheek.

When will he have his fill? Is he ever going to be satisfied bating you around like a delicious little mouse? Your heart skips a beat.

“Why are you doing this?” you grunt.

“You smell like those awful snakes,” he growls lightly. He pulls back in the slightest so you can catch the sizzling pleasure in his gaze. “You have no idea how much better you smell with me all over you.”

“I don’t smell like anyone but me,” you hiss. But you’re not sure. Have Sun and Moon left their scent on you? The thought hadn’t crossed your mind seriously until now.

Eclipse tilts his head slightly. The wild fluff of his head speaks to his jungle prowess. Hanging only an itch above your mouth, he muses in tune with his purring.

“You do smell lovely.” He traces a tapered finger from your temple to the edge of your jaw, as if sizing up a morsel. “Like dried petals with a slight spice.”

A shudder takes over your shoulders. He hooks your chin in his grasp then deliberately rubs his fluffy cheek against your mouth. A thick sultry ting of amber and dark earth fills your senses, ending with a lingering, spicy musk.

You sputter, tasting hair. He snickers with a simper when he lifts his head.

The strong scent reminds you of when he first surprised you. He pinned you to the ground before you realized you were being hunted. A mistake you refuse to make again. There was no doubt in your mind that he was going to tear your throat out, but he purred and fawned over you, and dragged you off to a rocky crevice to find out more about you. You were terrified then—but you at least had your machete on you.

The shiver that rolls down your body is not for his pleasure, despite his smirk. You’re going to find a way to wring his neck.

“Stop it,” you snap, your voice thick and labored.

“I am good for you. You can’t deny that,” he leans in closer. He lays his head beside your own, covering your chest. You swallow at the graze of his teeth against your soft neck.

His voice lowers, “You like to think you have claws, but you don’t. You need me. You need to trust me.”

You screw your eyes shut.

No. You can’t. You can only rely on yourself. Sun and Moon are sweet, they practically begged to help you, but you can’t accept that, not truly. You won’t let them have your back just to get a fang or claw in it.

It hurts. You remember.

When push comes to shove, you can only hope you’re out of reach of everything and everyone.

“Kitten,” he purrs, turning your chin with a sharp finger. “You’re safe with me.”

You stare back at him, eyes narrowed with disbelief. The rhythmic swells of his purrings have yet to wane. The delicious relief holds you down still. He envelopes you like a waterfall, crashing down, drowning you where you stand.

A sliver of you wants to trust him, and that part of you is very, very wrong and weak.

His one round ear twitches, and then both lie flat against his skull The summer breeze ceases. Unease pricks your spine. His expression sharpens as he rises, hands pressed into the grass on either side of your head, claws extended.

The deep purr within his body cuts off. For a fraction of the night, he holds your gaze with a promise.

I will steal you away again soon.

His jaw splits open in a snarl that quakes the meadow. Your heart climbs up your throat, rattling under his force. The next second, Eclipse leaps off of you. You gasp at the sudden loss of the tiger’s presence. A flash of midnight blue scales darts through the grass.

Moon.

The naga strikes in the blink of an eye. Moon’s fangs snap inches from Eclipse’s neck, vicious spit dripping from his sharp incisors. The flare of his hood makes him larger, and horrifying, and the glinting red and yellow diamonds flaring underneath his intimidating display promise lethal retribution. The tigertaur dives deeper into the field, effortlessly lunging out of reach from a furious swipe of Moon’s claws. Eclipse grins; there is nothing humorous in his glinting jaws.

The meadow rustles to the side of you. A sweeping mass of golden scales circle you, crushing grass and smothering vegetation. Hands take your shoulders. A low hiss fills the air with a threatening rage but soon softens. You look up, stunned.

Sun, too.

The naga instantly grabs you and holds you against his warm chest. You lock your arms around his spindly neck, minding his sharp head spikes. His blue eyes are dark as if ink were spilled into his irises. His arms tremble for one moment before steadying around you. In the emptiness of Eclipse’s purrs, your entire body shivers and the fever returns in thick, heavy waves.

You twist your head back, fighting the ache dripping back into your limbs. Moon is coiled upon his tail, tall, taller than you’ve ever seen him hold himself up. He watches the meadow with a fervent rage. His red eyes are wide, glinting dark like arterial blood.

Sun says Moon’s name. In a snap, Moon is slithering to your side, his hand brushing the small of your back with a reassuring—or in need of reassuring—touch. You try to say their names. Sun tucks your head against his shoulder.

The moment they turn away, you see Eclipse in the tall grass, not yet gone. He’s crouched, half-hidden. He grins like the Cheshire Cat between wavering blades of green. His fingers dance in a goodbye. Your heart drops into your stomach.

Sun and Moon shoot away—a fight avoided is the only good fight. Cutting through the grass, rustling through it with thunderous hissing, they spirit you out of Eclipse’s territory. You cling tighter to Sun and watch Moon’s and his long tails become whipping blurs, scales glinting with shards of starlight.

“You came?” you gasp. You try to not choke Sun with your crushing grip.

“Are you hurt?” Moon hisses.

“No.” You shake your head. “Eclipse was watching the cave.”

“We put that together,” Sun gives without his usual musical timber. “Did he do anything to you?”

“No.”

He nods, relieved, but it’s short-lived as a dark cloud passes over his usually sunny expression. “You scared us, lily pad. That’s the second time I’ve found you gone.”

“We should have stayed,” Moon says, his snarl lowering into remorse.

You let your head fall against Sun’s shoulder, bouncing along with his swaying. Moon’s concern rings in your head like a bell.

They came for you. They didn’t let you go. You close your eyes even as liquid spills underneath your eyelashes.

They take you far away from the tall grass, and they don’t stop until you’re well into the densest, darkest shadows of the jungle. You cling to the quiet sound of the nagas’ hissing.

You still feel Eclipse’s purr deep within your chest.

#i can finally breathe through my nose again #blorbos saved me #yeah sorry this is technically spoilers for my naga au but here's eclipse #i'll toss this into a properly named au on ao3 tomorrow when my eyes aren't so tired #temperate tail #catch a tiger by a tail or something something #naga au #tigertaur!eclipse #eclipse x reader #naff writing

307 notes · View notes

drarrily-we-row-along · 1 year

Text

Gorgeous

(inspired by t. swift's song)

Harry knew the moment that Draco walked into the bar. He always knew, there was something about the way he carried himself; his magic hot and bright, burning its way up Harry's spine before he'd even actually seen him. He turned his head, craning his neck to get a glimpse of the other man.

"Malfoy must be here," Ron grumbled.

He glanced back at Ron, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just that every time he shows up here, you tune out most of what anyone has to say," Seamus piped up.

Harry glared at him, "Shut it. I do not."

"You do," Lavender replied as she slid in next to Parvati across from Hermione. "And it's just so sad because he talks to everyone but you."

He frowned, he had tried to convince himself that it was just his imagination that Draco talked to everyone else and intentionally ignored him. But before he could say anything more, Draco was at their table, he said, "this is Clement," gesturing to the attractive man on his arm before sitting down next to Hermione and immediately striking up a conversation with her.

"It's because he likes you," Blaise said, leaning in closer so Harry could hear him over the noise.

Harry rolled his eyes, "Yeah, right." Draco came with a different date every week, he wasn't interested in Harry.

Blaise shrugged, "Suit yourself but I'm telling you, Potter, that boy's been obsessed with you for years."

Shoving Blaise's shoulder Harry tried to put it from his mind. But as the night wore on, Harry watched Draco talking to everyone in their friend group but him (just like he always did) and when Draco got up to go to the loo, Harry couldn't help but follow. Not wanting to be a perv, he waited outside.

When Draco emerged, he immediately jumped, hand over his heart, "Circe's tits, Potter! What are you doing?"

Instead of answering his question, Harry's inebriated brain supplied one of it's own, "Why won't you talk to me?"

"Excuse me?" Draco asked, looking around as though he thought someone was playing a trick on him.

"I mean, we were friends, right?" he asked, knowing that he sounded more than a little desperate and pathetic. "Like 8th year, we sorted out all of our shit, forgave each other, right?"

"Potter, what are you on about?"

"It's just," he sighed and stared at Draco, wondering if he looked at him hard enough if he'd be able to understand him, "you never talk to me. And you talk to everyone else."

"You should be flattered," Draco said before turning away.

Without thinking Harry reached out and grabbed his hand, giving him a gentle tug, "Wait," he said.

"Adam is waiting," Draco said, not looking up to meet Harry's eyes.

"I thought you said his name was Clement?" Harry murmured.

And before he could do anything else, Draco was pressing him back against the wall and kissing him.

Harry's arms instinctively wrapped around him, drawing him in closer as he kissed him back just as desperately.

"That's what you get for touching my hand in a dark hallway," Draco muttered, nipping at Harry's lips.

"I ought to grab your hand more often, then," Harry replied, tugging Draco's body flush against his own so he could kiss him again.

Draco kissed him back for a long, tension filled moment, body surging and pressing against Harry's before he pulled back, "I fucking hate you."

Harry blinked at him, feeling like he was experiencing whiplash, his brain moving too slow, unutterably confused by the mixed signals he was receiving from Draco's body and his words. "What-" he started, but then Draco was kissing him again.

"I hate your stupid face, and your stupid green eyes," he continued as his hands slid under his tshirt and Harry groaned. "I hate the way you grew into your stupid body; all muscled and handsome. You're so fucking gorgeous, of course I can't talk to you."

"Fuck," he hissed as Draco's nails scraped over his back and Harry flipped their positions, pinning Draco to the wall.

Draco groaned, body shuddering against Harry's as he tried to drag him impossibly closer. "And I hate the way you talk, all honest and earnest, and-" he broke off as Harry sucked hard at his neck. "And I hate that you aren't mine."

Harry pulled back far enough to look him in the eyes, "Draco, you can have me," he said.

"Stop," he whined, giving Harry a shove but immediately tugging him back in. "Don't make fun of me."

"I'm not," Harry assured him. "I want you too, in case that wasn't abundantly clear," he said, pressing forward against Draco's body to emphasize his point.

Draco shook his head, "But I want more than just sex with you. Just sex would never be enough."

"Great," Harry replied, kissing down his neck again and pausing to suck at the bruise he'd left forming on his pale skin.

"I'm serious, Potter," Draco growled, fisting a handful of his hair and pulling until Harry looked him in the eyes again.

"Call me Harry," he said.

Draco rolled his eyes, "I'm serious, Harry. I'm a possessive bastard and I will want to keep you forever."

"Is that a threat or a promise?" Harry asked, feeling a little weak in the knees at the thought of being treasured and kept.

Narrowing his eyes he asked, "Are you being serious?"

"Yes," he said in exasperation, "Draco. I want you, too. I've been head over tits for you for ages."

"Really?" he asked, looking back and forth between Harry's eyes.

"Ask literally any of our friends," he said. "Yes. Really." He leaned in and gave him another soft, tentative kiss.

Draco shuddered and wrapped his arms around Harry's neck, "Take me home," he whispered.

"From here?"

Draco nodded, eyes closed.

He rubbed his nose over Draco's cheek, "What about-" he broke off trying to remember the bloke's name, "what's-his-name?"

"Who?" Draco asked, hands slipping under Harry's waistband and distracting him even further.

"Your date?" he prompted even as his fingers tangled in Draco's hair, turning his to the side to give himself better access to Draco's neck.

Draco whimpered, body arching against Harry's. He waved a hand, "I don't give a fuck. Take me home. Right now." Then softly, in Harry's ear, "Please," he all but moaned and Harry's self control snapped.

He apparated them right from there, straight into his bed, and suddenly Draco had absolutely no problem talking to him.

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

Read more of my fics inspired by songs, if you'd like

tagging the lovely @phoebe-delia since it's taylor swift and that is her jam <3

#drarry #getting together #inspired by taylor swift #draco just really does have the same energy as her #silly #love #fics inspired by songs #a little making out #apparently we've fixed the writer's block- thanks everyone who's left me encouragement and kindness on the things I've posted this week <3 #It's zero to one hundred over here there is no in between. ADHD man.

353 notes · View notes

inkofthebrain · 5 months

Text

Imperial

[Paul Atreides x F!Reader] 1468 words

Paul Atreides, Duke of Arakkis, takes the hand of the Emperor’s eldest daughter for the throne, yet neither are pleased. They know they must learn to be civil, but what will it cost them…

Tags: post-Dune 2, strays from book canon, no use of y/n, dune typical everything, Corinno!Reader, slow burn, enemies to lovers kind of? (More strangers to lovers tbh) ARRANGED MARRIAGE TROPE, not proofread LOL

Warnings: mild use of the voice on reader. Dune typical themes, motifs, and actions. Jessica being Jessica….

A/n: this chapter goes from 0 to 100 plot wise: be ready >:) sorry 4 whiplash… || Thank you for all the support! I upload these chapters as i write them so apologies for the spontaneous new chapters. My request are open for one shots and more!

Previous chapter Next chapter

masterlist

Three———

The following weeks with the Atreides are spent planning, discussing politics, and all the while you continued to silently observe Paul and his mother.

There are two things you are certain of. One, Bene Geserit have been at work, a congregation of women who you have always been weary of, and two—their plan had gone horribly wrong. Paul was the byproduct of a story not of his own which he, or should I say his mother, has appropriated for political power.

“Abomination”

Your fathers truth sayer’s words ring through you ears. You are terrified for what is to come, you gaze out of your bedroom window at the sloshing sea lapping at the edges of the cliff.

The nightmares about your soon to be home still plagued your nights, you were getting less and less sleep and as the wedding grew nearer your exhaustion grew with it. You prayed Arrakis would kill you quick.

You and paul spent hours in the Caladan meeting room, discussing the various political forces across the galaxy, alone and with both the Atreides and Imperial advisors. the details were complex, and Paul's understanding of the universe was quickly expanding by the day.

He learned about the various noble houses, the political factions within the houses, the imperial courts and their complex bureaucracy, and the many conflicting religions and belief systems across the galaxy.

This was just the basic information. the true power came from analyzing and understanding the social complexities and hidden motivations of the various players. Paul knows he must oblige with the current way things are running before slowly putting his own reforms and systems in place.

As you taught him the complex workings of the imperium and its politics, you realized his intelligence was unmatched. It was as if he absorbed the information like a sponge, taking it all in and putting it to use. his natural abilities coupled with his hard work and dedication made him a formidable political force.

You sensed that his thirst for knowledge and a desire to understand what drove the universe was insatiable, just as yours was.

You had grown closer to Paul but your shared disinterest in the Marriage lingered. You did not care for marrying a stranger, that was bound to happen, it was the circumstances of your engagement that lit an unpleasant fire in you. Paul, on the other hand, was clearly longing for something, someone, he knew he could not obtain.

You both were children who were manipulated, selected, and bred for this. And now as adults you must face your unnerving future.

Duty is everything in this world.

———

The day of the wedding was a week away, but the planning began much earlier. The ceremony was highly anticipated by the imperial court and the noble houses. rumors were rampant, various debates and gossip spread like wildfire. It was clear that this wedding was much more than a marriage of political convenience. It was a pivotal event for the empire, one that everyone would be watching closely and analyzing under a microscope.

As you walked to the dining hall, Delia at you side making occasional small talk, you mind was racing. You had compiled a highly educated theory based on observation and the small bits of Benne Geserit secrets you sister had let you in on. You were determined to gather more data to support this.

Jessica sat at the head of the table, Paul sat to her right and you sat to his left. The three of you were discussing the political ramifications of the wedding, how they would be viewed by the various noble houses and imperial courts. Your discussion was respectful and polite, but under the surface there was a tension, a subtle underlying pressure, that nobody acknowledged but was very present. After clearing her throat and waved the guards out of the room.

Your stomach dropped as she looked to you "Now, there's one other matter we've yet to discuss." She turns her attention towards you and looks straight at you, with a serious look on her face.

Jessica continues. "I am aware you understand the political nature of this union, and you understand the political implications of the ceremony itself. But what isn't discussed enough is the reality and expectation of the marriage after the ceremony. The two of you are to consummate the marriage immediately after, and the child that results from it will have enormous political implications. Do you understand what i'm saying?"

You almost choke on your wine at her boldness. Paul glances at you, he is alert to the seriousness in her tone, the way she is careful to drive home this specific point.

Still watching your reaction, she finally resumes speaking. "The consummation is expected to immediately produce a child. The pressure will be immense, and I am asking you to treat this with the upmost seriousness. The birth of the child will create a political shift that will alter the galaxy for generations. I trust you understand the gravity of the situation at hand? Correct?”

You take a large swig from your wine glass. “May I speak freely?”

"Yes, by all means, speak freely.”

You take a deep breath. “I have not been trained by the Bene Geserit like my sister so I am not privy in the ways” you pause. “But from my observations I have compiled a theory. There is a plan, a plan greater than us all. And you, Lady Jessica, set that plan on fire by giving the late Duke Leto a male heir. Yet they allowed you to become a Reverend mother after disobeying the high order.” You pause, watching her reaction. “Now you must scramble to solidify your disobedience into the prophecy”

Jessica is frozen for a few moments, eyes locked on your own, trying to hide the surprise you've seen through. It's clear that you've struck a nerve here.

Paul leans forward, his eyes locking onto yours. "This is impressive. Very impressive." there's a glimmer of admiration in his eyes, and the slightest of smiles tugs at the corner of his mouth.

“I assume I am correct then?” You look between the two

Jessica finally nods, a hint of a proud smile on her face. "You have struck at the very heart of it. My disobedience is not my own, Paul was set to be the bridge between the Bene Geserit and Atreides... and the imperium's entire future. And because of my actions, that entire future has been brought upon us prematurely. We have a plan, it is true. I will ensure that paul's inheritance of the empire remains intact. But you are key to that plan, and you must comply with my direction on this matter."

“Tell me everything.” You demand, your temper growing short as your heart starts beating faster and faster. “This is my life and the legacy of the Imperium!”

She leans forward, her intense gaze meeting yours. there's a firmness in her eyes, and she speaks with a sense of conviction. "Listen to me; if you wish to ensure your safety and the safety of Paul and the empire, then you will need to trust me. Do you trust me?"

“No!” You yell, “You made your son a false prophet and I refuse to go along with it until I am aware of every detail of this plan.”

“Calm yourself and listen” Jessica demands, her voice is dark and distorted. You are enchanted instantly—She has used the voice.

“Mother…” Paul says, guilt pricks at his soul as he watches your face go blank, but Jessica ignores him.

"I will not tell you everything at this very moment, but trust me, you will see it all in time. Just like I have, just like Paul has. There are some things that are necessary to keep from you until that time. I will tell you what you need to know, nothing more and nothing less. does that sound acceptable to you?"

Her hold on you breaks and you look to the mother and son in disgust. Everything about this woman is fabricated so she may complete her plan, a ploy in which you are just a mere stepping stone. Rage runs through your entire body with such velocity that you feel sick. You sit in silence.

“Do. You. Understand?” Paul’s voice is stern and startles you and you nod your head.

“Good” Jessica says flatly.

You turn your head to look out the window, closing your eyes while taking a deep breath you attempt to collect yourself. Paul and Jessica are staring into you. You can feel it.

———

Next chapter

🍾 Taglist @aoi-targaryen

#paul atredies x reader #paul atredies x you #paul atredies fanfic #dune part two #paul x reader #dune part 2 #dune x you #dune x reader #dune fanfic #dune 2024 #dune 2021 #dune movie #dune 2 #dune #paul atreides #jessica atredies #reverend mother jessica Atreides

107 notes · View notes

ihavenoideawhatiamdoingjustgay2 · 1 month

Text

And your fears could fill bootes void

Genre : Fluff, (Emotional) Hurt comfort,

Notes : ADHD and GN! Reader, you are wearing make up and a dress though, self indulgent, soft! Arlecchino :), please don't try to fill bootes void with anything it's 300 million ligth years big and houses only 60 galaxies, based on my horrible graduation preparation

Sypnosis : You are panicking and nothing seems to go rigth, but then Arlecchino comes to your rescue.

Take me to AO3

You ball the wipes up and throw them at the nearest trashcan, missing, but that wasn`t of your concern now. You grabed the eyeliner once again, the lid had been long abandoned, exposing the pointy liquid brush. You take a deep breath as you watch yourself setting it at the redend corner of your eye, drawing a straigth line in one fell swoop. You let the air escape from your lungs, moving to do the next eye. Then your eyes fall on the reflection of the clock and you start to visibly shake. Curses fall from your lips as you realize, and you hold your head in your hands, realizing only now how bad it really was.

„This is fine, it is ok.“

You tell yourself, lie to yourself. You release your head, you were sure that you could fix it still, very simple, esspecially considering your shaking body and the clock that is ticking closer to your independing doom. You turn to the mirror, mind with the clock, eyes on the line, you were sure you could do it. You set on, getting ready. But alas, it worked as well as it did before. Your breath quickend as you grabbed another round of wipes, tears rolling down your cheeks ruining your remaining make up. Why did they write the wrong time on the invite!? God fucking damn it. Why should you even go at this point? You would just embarass Arle and the whole Fatui as a whole. Worse even : you`d miss the start. Running in after everyone else certainly wouldn`t look flattering.

You screamed quickly, not noticing the woman in your mirror untill you were done.

Her presence was like a whiplash into your face, you wiped your tears away, standing up, your breath still short, tears still burning their way down.

„I will take that as a `no`.“

She must have asked you something. You suck in a breath. „I can not with this fucking eyeliner and now that I started crying everything is ruined! I am not even in my clothes and- damn we will run late! I called and gods! You should just go withouth me!“ during your outburst Arlecchino had moved to your vanity already, waiting untill you were finished. You watch her leaning against it.

„Sit.“ she said, her head leaning towards the chair.

You stare for a few second before your body follows her ask and sits you down on the chair, she takes your chin, making you look up at her. Her gaze sweps over your face, then she mumbles :“You`ve been to harsh on yourself.“ she takes a wipe herself and has it gently go over your eyes, a gentleness that was only reserved for you and maybe sometimes the children. „And you didn`t get everything.“ she adds, rubbing a bit. It takes her a while untill she holds your head up in satisfaction, untill her thumb strokes your cheek. „There. We can work with that.“

She takes a few steps back, to the trashcan and you get a better look at her. You bite your lips. „You look...“ she slowly turns back. Her body was covered with a formal suit, though she had removed her jacket and rolled up her sleeves, after coming in, exposing her muscles. You blush. How childish. „Pretty handsome.“

„And the person at my side will look equally as good.“ you smile, and her eyes got kinder. „Now close your eyes for me?“ you watch as she dips one of your brushes into a palette, then do as she asked. The brush caresses over your eyelids like a feather, while the ticking of the clock cuts into your ears like a knife. Your leg starts to shake again.

„We will be late.“ you state.

„It could indeed come to that. But, it is not our fault if they put the wrong time on it.“

You open your eyes as she looks for something, then hear her open the mascarra with a plop.

As you look up at her and as the ligth purs down at her she, she almost seems like an angle with an white halo. She would stab most for the comparison though, unless they put „Death“ in it. Your angle of death. „Don`t stab me with that?“ you joke.

She snickered. „I`d never.“ she applied it as gently as when she swiped your face, or when she did the eyeshadow. Arlecchino then took a good look at everything, turning your head, tilting hers, she then took the eyeliner, you watched her shake it to then close your eyes, biting your lips in anticipation. A smooth line was drawn twice and then both were filled in.

You wanted to open your eyes but she shut them.

„I am not done yet.“ she declares

Your ears go back to the clock. „Arle-“

„Do not worry. I will handle it.“ it didn`t do much, yet you decided to sit still. For the next few minutes, she is doing something with your face, you think she may be retouching the foundation and the blush, but who knows.

You hear the brushes being sorted in, everything really. She was a neat person, was she not? Always making sure the blood was scrubed away and always taking care of the witnesses herself.

„Done.“ she then announces withing a breath, you turn to the mirror with a smile, then crock your head while staring at the ligth eyeshadow, the blush accentuating your cheekbones.

„It is very decent.“

She puts her hands on your shoulders. „There was no reason for much. I just accentuated what was already there.“ she quickly kissed your cheek and then moved to your dress, to your shared bed.

You turn back to the clock, fear hovering above you like a sword. „We will be so late-“

„Will you need my assitance with the dress?“

You took a breath. „Perhabs.“ you then hurry to undress, while Arlecchino is putting her jacket back on.

„Alrigth.“ you state, sliping into the dress, nearly tripping in the process.

Arlecchino quickly zips you up, giving you another chaste kiss on the back of your neck, but you had no real time to react since she decided to twirl you slowly, but your eyes were only glued to the door. „You look ravishing my dear.“

You flashed a quick smile at her before taking her hand and formly dragging her towards the door.

Arlecchino only gave you a sigh as you asked if you`d come at the rigth time by foot.

She stopped you once you got in front of the door. „What, what is it?“

She pushed your hair back, grabbing your face. „The way is only five minutes, calm down.“

She then took your arm, opening the door for you, hushing a look at your shoes.

„Huh, you are wearing the shoes I gave you.“

You couldn`t stop yourself. „No.“ the lie slips from your lips like butter and she stares into your soul. You count the seconds, her steps. After a few years of being married you were able to lie and look into her eye after for maybe ten seconds before gaining a headache, though that number subtracted itself by half due to your nervosity this fine evening. You looked down. „Yes. They are pretty.“

She chuckled, taking your hip before walking down the stairs. „You should stop this little game of yours I´m slowly burning away all of your braincells at this point.“

„Well, have I ever had any to begin with?“

She would have chuckled if you weren`t out. Your wolf. „You have always been impecable.“ All of a sudden you felt her lips against your own. You let yourself melt into it, her, making you forget your fear for just a few seconds. It was not usuall for her to do this unprompted, most times you were gratefull for that, but now.

She parted from you, though her touch lingered for longer. You breated, remembering what she had said, smiling up at her. „Well thank you my dearest husband.“

And like that, you made your way to the event and it couldn´t have gone better.

#arlecchino x reader #genshin arlecchino #arlecchino genshin #x reader #genshin impact #arlecchino x you #arlecchino x y/n #genshin impact arlecchino #fan fic #my fanfiction #ao3 #ao3fic

86 notes · View notes

not-goldy · 1 month

Note

Nah the way Jk whipped it in the parking lot and hit he brakes had me dying. He trying to give Jimin whiplash. Just eating the hell out of my popcorn and watching.

Jk: You're here. FINALLY Jm: I miss V. Jk: ?? okay lets call him. Jm: Should we call RM. Jk: Hi Taehyung Hyung, you're adorable, I love you. Jm: Lets call Suga. Jk: I miss members. Jm: I'm a member. Jk: ….

They really went to bed fighting & woke up fighting. Alexa Play, Pillowtalk by Zayn.

"So we'll piss off the neighbors. In the place that feels the tears. The place to lose your fears. Yeah, reckless behavior. A place that is so pure, so dirty and raw. In the bed all day, bed all day, bed all day. Fucking and fighting on. It's our paradise and it's our war zone."

Lmho

I think we saw different shows🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

I nearly posted a meme about them going to bed but was saving it for my analysis on my other blog.

They didn't go to bed angry at all. Like I said, by evening Jungkook's anger had been dispelled.

He was literally singing the moment he saw that bed that night and exclaimed he "loved this" while rolling on the bed😭

Went on and slept passed out next to Jimin- probably the best night in a long time for him stress free with a warm sexy boy next to him😩😩😩😩

Then he went out and made a stone flower for Jimin the next morning and prayed to it for him to get better. Called Jimin to come and pray for good health too. Again I don't know bout yall but that was sweet as fuck.

But for real, someone seemed excited to go to bed next to Jimin the previous night🤣🤣🤣🤣

Woke up well rested and in a good zen mood😌

And Jimin had to stink the room for sure but he was like don't mind me at all go poop it out I'll just lie here and sniff it all in🥴💀💀💀💀

And by the way he was the one who diagnosed Jimin with a stomach bug and said they had to get medicine the next day cos it must be a stomach bug.

I don't think they woukd have gotten drugs for Jimin at all because until Jungkook pointed out he needed to take something for it, the crew did nothing for JM even though they knew about it throughout the day when he would run off to use the loo every where they went to.

And he didn't tell JK about it earlier. Jk had to keep asking where Jimin was throughout the day when he would disappear out of the blue.

If he didn't care at all he wouldn't have been searching for him any time he disappeared. Even with V, he still asked where that man was when he wasn't coming.

Dude literally hopped and skipped away from Tae just to catch up with JM. And not to make this a competition but when JM said he regretted coming to be with JK JK said well its too late for that now 🤭

Meanwhile Tae said I shouldn't have come and he said go then. This is our show anyway 🥴

So I dont know why people are exaggerating his sass towards Jimin😩

To be frank, I would have fled the room if anyone was taking a dump three feet from where I slept I don't care if Jimin's shit smells like roses🥴

Jungkook just sniffed it all in if that's not love I don't know what is😩😩😩😩

57 notes · View notes

eleanor-bradstreet · 5 months

Text

Let Me Be Your Anchor

Chapter 16: Teatime

Benedict Bridgerton x Sophie Beckett An Offer from a Gentleman reimagined Chapter rating: 18+ - explicit sexual content, drug use Word count: 4.4k

Masterpost Previous chapter Next chapter

The next day Aubrey Hall continued to teem with activity under the watchful eyes of the Duke and Duchess. Benedict notified Mr. Dewitt that Sophie would be retained as a member of the housekeeping staff during the country visit. If the steward had any thoughts about the whiplash instructions he was receiving in regards to the newly arrived maid, he was wise enough not to betray them.

Benedict’s mind hadn’t stopped whirring since his encounter with Sophie in the drawing room the previous day. After returning from the lake, his sister gave no indication that she suspected anything untoward. It seemed their secret was safe. But how much longer could they carry on like this, sneaking through hallways in the dead of night, scurrying into unoccupied rooms? The risk of their discovery would increase tenfold when the family and guests started to arrive. Sophie was correct that they would need to actively avoid one another. He hadn’t even contemplated what would happen at the conclusion of his family’s hosting duties when he would be expected to return to London.

In the midst of his colliding thoughts, all he could think of was his need for Sophie; his yearning to watch her lips part as he made her gasp, his hunger to make her come apart, his ache to hold her in his arms. He set up an easel in his bedchamber and tried to unleash his feelings on a canvas, but found himself lost in daydreams of her. Rash as it may have been, he sent word to the kitchen specifically requesting that Sophie bring him his tea.

His heart bounded when she opened the door, tray balanced on her hip as he had seen her so many times before while convalescing. Her smile was brighter than the sunlight streaming through the windows.

She set the tea tray on a table and curtsied. “Mr. Bridgerton.”

“Sophie.” Her name left his lips with a sigh of relief. “Are we not done with formalities when we are alone together?”

She returned a coy smile. “Very well, Ben. I assume you summoned me for a reason. Would you like me to sit for my portrait?”

He stepped toward her, feeling a stab of guilt that he could never seem to concentrate long enough in her presence to complete his work. “I certainly intend to finish your portrait. That is a gift I promised you. But I’m afraid my thoughts are too preoccupied to give it the attention it deserves at the moment.

“Preoccupied?” Her eyes sparkled with curiosity as he closed the distance between them and ran his knuckles across her cheek.

“Anticipation of my family’s arrival. And thoughts of you. Knowing we must keep our distance once they arrive.”

“Yes, we must.” Sophie swallowed, feeling the familiar bloom of heat just from his proximity.

“But we have today.” Benedict nuzzled against her cheek, delighting in her scent, the faintest hint of amber and vanilla.

Sophie’s eyes rolled closed and she grew pliant in his arms, but her mind still registered the risk of their encounters. “The Duke and Duchess…”

“Are calling at Romney Hall nearby,” he explained. “My sister is a friend of Lady Crane. She is ill and won’t be able to attend the visit.”

“The children?”

Benedict snickered. “Are with their army of nurses. The time is ours.” He pressed his lips to hers, soft and plush, and she was bereft of any further protest. “I wanted to ask if you’d like to…join me in calming my thoughts?”

“How do you mean?” Sophie asked, noting the mischievous flicker across his features, his crooked grin triggering a spark of excitement.

“An elixir procured by my younger brother in his travels. Whatever it may be, I find it both soothes the nerves and opens my mind to artistic inspiration. When paired with a canvas it helps me produce some of my most…experimental work.” He ran a hand gently through her hair, gazing at her as if she were his greatest muse. “It’s an experience unlike any other, and one that I’d like to share with you, if you are willing.”

Sophie was surprised by his offer, that he was inviting her to join him in more than just carnal pleasures. She had never tried any such substances, but assumed the effects must be different than strong drink. On a few occasions she had indulged enough to experience drunkenness with her fellow servants, usually on holidays. She found the sensation not unpleasant, a numbing carefree haze, but it did have a way of stealing joy from the following day when she would wake with a headache and bitter mouth. But she trusted Benedict implicitly. He would ensure her enjoyment as he introduced her to something new.

“How does one take this elixir?” She asked.

“A powder added to tea.” He wiggled his eyebrows and moved about the room, producing a small pouch from a drawer in his writing desk and shaking it playfully before resting it beside the teapot. “Medicinal in a way not unlike your tinctures, but entirely unique.”

Nodding her consent, Sophie sat across from Benedict at the small table and watched as he poured them each a cup of tea and added small spoonfuls of the pouch’s vibrant purple powder. He stirred and handed her the mixture, insisting she take the first sip. Tentatively, she brought it to her lips.

“You may wish to hold your nose,” Benedict coached. “The smell and taste can be a bit foul.”

Sophie did detect a whiff of something pungent, vegetal but charred somehow. Holding her breath, she took a full sip and scrunched up her face as the aftertaste withered her tongue.

“Ugh,” she grimaced as Benedict giggled. “You claim this makes you feel better?”

“Give it a moment,” he grinned. “You will see.”

___

In what felt like no time at all, Sophie became aware of her altered state. A single cup of Benedict’s mystery tea and she found herself able to count the motes of dust that floated in the shafts of sunlight. As opposed to the numbing effect of alcohol, she found her mind and body heightened in awareness. She was fascinated by the friction of her dress against her skin, the tactile surface of the table and the fine china, and the colors of the fabrics throughout the room. Having drunk his own cup, Benedict seemed to be fixated on color too. After ensuring she was feeling well, he had gone to his easel and was blending oil paints directly with his fingers on both palette and canvas, making sweeping motions with his arms, entirely lost to inspiration.

Sophie didn’t know how long she lazed in her chair watching him. The tea made time seem untrackable and irrelevant. She certainly did feel her nerves calmed and mind opened. She was content to simply gaze at Benedict, the man she secretly loved, drinking in the sight of him and every feature she adored. His tousled dark hair, his animated brow, pale blue eyes locked on his work, lopsided smirk appraising what he was crafting. Her focus narrowed to the sweat beginning to bead on his forehead, the tendons flexing in his muscular neck, and the veins surging in his paint-streaked forearms. He had rolled his sleeves to the elbows but was otherwise fully dressed in a floral patterned waistcoat and pinned cravat, and for some reason this struck her as aggravating. With every inch of her skin sensitized in a way she had never known before, she wanted to touch and be touched, to taste and be tasted, to learn what it felt like to ascend to the plane of bliss when she already felt herself high above any clouds.

With a boldness that surprised even herself she rose, marched to Benedict’s side, took his face in her hands and kissed him deeply. Light danced behind her eyelids as the sweet flavor of his lips cascaded over her own. Benedict froze, holding his hands to either side so as not to cover her in paint.

Sophie pulled back and they both chuckled, heady with the closeness of each other as much as with the tea. Kissing him again, she found herself entirely absent of inhibition. With his hands unavailable she was in control and the realization was undeniably thrilling. There was something she had been longing to try and now was the perfect moment.

Continuing to savor him, her hands went to work unwinding his cravat. Benedict stood still, humming in amusement as they kissed. Once the fabric was in her hands, cool and slippery, she moved to stand behind him. On tiptoe she wrapped the dark blue silk around his eyes and knotted it in the back.

“Blind man’s bluff?” Benedict quipped, sounding befuddled.

“Shh.” Sophie giggled as she moved back to face him and contemplated her next move. The buttons on his waistcoat were slowly unfastened and the garment slipped carefully over his technicolor arms and onto the floor. Biting her lip, she snapped his braces against his chest causing him to gasp before she pulled them down from his shoulders. Next was his shirt. Sophie could hear him breathing harder as she pulled the hem from his waistband. She leaned to his ear and whispered, “Raise your arms.”

Giving himself over to her direction, Benedict grinned uncontrollably as she undressed him. He did as he was told, lifting his arms in front of himself to accommodate her height and she pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it across the room. He stood before her blindfolded and shirtless, chest heaving, trousers jutting out unnaturally with his stiffness. Feeling more seductive than ever before, she traced a finger from his jaw down his neck, chest and abdomen, admiring. He was muscled, athletic, and his pale skin was so soft, smelling of soap and his oil paints. Sophie knelt down to pull off his boots, running her hand lightly down the front of his trousers on her way, causing him to hiss from the sensation.

“Lift your feet.” He obeyed and she pulled off his boots and stockings. Sophie remembered the night at the inn where she had awkwardly relieved him of his clothing out of necessity. This was a decidedly more pleasurable echo of that encounter. They were both breathing quite hard now, knowing there was only one more garment left to remove. Sophie remained on her knees and reached up, slowly unbuttoning his trousers. His hands clenched into fists and she could see him gritting his jaw. She smiled as she slid the last of his clothes down and bid him to step out of them. Now he was nude and erect with anticipation. She delayed a moment, waiting to strike. She would surprise him. She knew he was expecting her hands; how she usually touched him. She would skip that step.

Benedict gasped as her hot, wet mouth encircled him. It was a shock to his system, standing naked and blind in excruciating silence, broken suddenly by his cock being devoured. He reached out to hold her head but she swatted his hand away, reminding him of how soiled they were. Groaning through clenched teeth he fought to stand still and just let her have her way with him. It was agony and paradise combined, a flood of feelings as his swirling senses honed in on her attentions. The minx inside sweet Sophie had been unleashed by the tea and he was both proud and humbled that she was offering her own form of experimentation to match his.

At long last Sophie was fulfilling her wish to take Benedict in her mouth, to show him just how fervently she longed to please him, to worship his body as he had worshipped hers. She found the act surprisingly enjoyable, knowing the power she wielded from her knees. Hearing the needy sounds he made and looking up to see his mouth hung open with awe gave her her own satisfaction in turn. After a few pulls along his manhood she leaned back. “How is this, Ben? Inspirational?” She flicked her tongue across his tip.

He groaned, legs buckling. “Yes, Sophie. It’s…you’re wonderful. Just…just like this. Your lips are like the kiss of heaven.” She chuckled, knowing he would likely spout something poetic even if they were not under the influence. Motivated to push him even higher into the firmament, she leaned forward to consume him again. She tried different motions, licking and sucking, back and forth, her tongue dancing around his veins, her hand rising to join her mouth in stroking. Whenever Benedict moaned above her, she persisted with that action.

Then she tested herself, seeing how deeply she could take him. Slowly, she pushed further and further toward his body, pulling him into her mouth, relaxing every muscle she knew how. She knew he was in her throat once she could no longer breathe. An odd, somewhat alarming sensation but she felt in control. Staying relaxed she began to move gently, sucking him as before, letting him penetrate an entirely new area of her body. Having the most intimate part of him warm and heavy in her mouth was a comfort and sin she could never have imagined.

Benedict positively shouted with surprise as he breached Sophie’s throat. He instinctively tore the cravat from his eyes, looked down and saw her face practically flush with his pelvis, eyes closed in concentration as she rocked back and forth. He was buried so deep that when she finally gagged, he felt as if he were swallowed, squeezed with a pressure and heat that threatened to topple him. He shuddered, mind gone completely blank. Sophie pulled back and came up for air, gasping after his entire length slid out of her beautiful mouth. She wiped her lips on the back of her hand and smiled up at him, looking proud of herself.

“Sophie Beckett, you marvelous creature,” he beamed down at her. With a smug gleam in her eyes she set herself on him again and Benedict rocketed skyward. He murmured praise and suggestions, hips beginning to thrust as she sucked him eagerly. She had a natural talent with her tongue that he knew was liable to destroy him. The warmth of her mouth, the suction of her lips, the challenge in her dewy eyes gazing up at him, it grew too much to bear. As he felt himself nearing the peak he pulled back.

“Sophie, I’m…I am nearly there.”

“Good,” she smiled, tearing away the collar of her uniform and beginning to loosen her frock. Benedict watched, agog as she undressed, stripping down to the waist. Then she wrapped a warm hand around his length and began to pump, her breasts bare and bobbing hypnotically as she stroked him. Whatever fire had been lit within her, he vowed to keep it tended. Gazing at each other open mouthed, she commanded him softly but intently. “Come on me.”

Seeing and hearing how hungry she was for his release brought it to fruition in a moment. Knowing nothing but the wave of ecstasy beginning to spasm through his body, Benedict needed to stabilize himself before he jettisoned off of the earth. His hands fell to Sophie’s shoulders and gripped tight, smearing her in a rainbow of fingerprints as he dropped his head with a cry. Painting her in two ways at once, his breath escaped in halting gasps as she milked him onto her chest.

Sophie never stopped her movements, coaxing him through the aftershocks. When Benedict fell to his knees before her panting, she grinned with devilish victory. She was just as capable of reducing him to a breathless mess as he could her. It made her feel closer to him, more trusted, and more desirable.

“Sophie,” Benedict marveled at her, barely able to muster words. “I’m sorry. Your shoulders…”

He pointed at the streaks that ran across her skin. She looked down and saw the epaulets she had earned. Bright ornaments of sinful endeavors. The fingerprints of her lover seared into her for all to see. The whole room was twinkling in a dazzling spectrum before her eyes and she felt honored to be made a part of it. With a twist of her lips she collected the palette he had dropped nearby and dipped her fingers into a sky blue shade, then swiped it gently across his abdomen, coloring him as well.

Benedict looked at her quizzically, then she ran a purple thumb across his jaw. Catching on, he wet his fingers in forest green and brushed them across her cheeks. Giggling, Sophie next took a daub of orange and swirled it in circles across her chest, blending it with his seed, painting herself with his essence. Benedict swallowed hard, dumbfounded, and then found himself moving like a man possessed, stripping her of her remaining clothing, hauling her up onto the settee and burying his face between her legs.

The day progressed as a gauzy fantasy, the two of them wrapped in intoxicated wonder and all the sensations they could gift each other. They lost count of their climaxes, Sophie returning time and time again to swallow Benedict and bob her head until he gasped her name, and Benedict on his knees in equal measure, sucking her furiously as she bounced against his tongue. After the poetry they penned with their moans, they broke to make art with their flesh, painting arcs, swirls and handprints across skin, gradients of desire and whimsy, blending with their own juices, traces of themselves ending up on the canvas which had clattered to the floor.

Hours later as the sun began to set, they found themselves looking like madmen, wrapped in sheets, disheveled and covered in streaks of paint from head to toe. Benedict had the presence of mind to wrap Sophie in one of his shirts and hide her in the bedroom next door while he donned a robe and called for a bath. He didn’t much care what the maids thought of seeing him smeared with paint with his hair standing on end. It wouldn’t be the first time he had ended up like this after a dose of the powder.

Working together and casting him sideways glances, Finian and Lizzie brought a large copper tub to his room and filled it with steaming water. Lizzie scented it with oil and a sudsy soap that left bubbles floating on the surface. When they finally exited, Benedict collected Sophie again and locked the door behind them. She giggled helplessly while he stripped her of what little she was wearing and helped her step into the steaming water. She shivered and sank down, allowing the water to rise above her shoulders and neck, even right up to her nose, and then closed her eyes. It felt like heaven.

“Lean forward,” Benedict murmured, kneeling on the floor beside her. She did, and sighed with pleasure as he began to wash her back, making clouds of red and yellow paint swirl into the water.

“We’ll make you all shiny and new again,” he grinned, kissing her shoulder as he scrubbed her arms. Sophie leaned forward and rested her forehead on her bent knees, blushing.

“Dunk your head so I can wash your hair,” he ordered.

She slid under the water, a magical, enveloping sensation while she still felt the fuzzy influence of the tea, and then quickly came back up.

The green streaks of paint on her cheeks started to run down the length of her face. But rather than make her look wretched, Benedict thought it gave her a phantasmal beauty. It made her eyes glow as he had never seen them - glittering emeralds refracting all the light in the room. He rubbed the paint from her face with his thumb as she held his gaze. He suddenly found that it was hard to breathe. Probably a side effect of the tea.

He busied himself by rubbing the bar of soap in his hands and then began to work the lather through her hair. “Do you prefer your hair short?” he asked.

“I had to cut it,” she said. “I sold it to a wigmaker.”

She wasn’t sure, but she thought she might have heard him growl.

“It used to be much shorter,” she added.

“Back under.”

She dunked back in the tub, swirling her head this way and that under the water before coming back up for air.

Benedict cupped his hands and filled them with water. “You’ve still got some in the back,” he said, letting the water pour over her hair.

Sophie let him repeat the process a few times, until all the paint was removed as far as she could tell and the water had turned a milky purple. “Aren’t you coming in?” She raised an eyebrow and was met with that cheeky lopsided grin.

Benedict let his robe fall to the floor and stepped in across from her. He groaned with pleasure as he lowered himself, immediately dunking under the water and smoothing back his hair. Sophie took the cloth and went to work scrubbing his fingers, his arms, every inch of him. Their incessant giggling was fading into pleasurable hums and sighs as they caressed each other in the water, gently, curiously. They kissed each other’s necks, arms, foreheads. There was a chastity to it despite that they were fully nude together after an outrageously lascivious afternoon.

Sophie was drained. It had been without a doubt the wildest and most exploratory day of her life thus far. She knew she was still under the giddy haze of the tea but her senses were growing sharper. Time slowly seemed to be returning to its normal rate and her mind was quieting. The last of its effects, the joy of being with Benedict, and the warmth of the lapping water made her euphoric. Benedict had leaned back against his end of the tub, eyes closed. Sophie couldn't stretch out her legs underwater without awkwardly laying on top of him, so she planted her feet to frame his head which made him look up and chuckle. She grinned and bent an elbow over the side, resting her head on her arms. Benedict ran his hands lazily over her knees and the two of them sat in contented silence, descending from their high and soaking up all the heat the water could offer.

Benedict stared at Sophie, resting serenely as glinting water droplets ran across her collarbone. She was dazzling. Never a word that he had thought to associate with a housemaid but it was truly how he felt. Where in the world had she come from? This beautiful, daring and exciting woman whose wit, moods, pleasures and interests so perfectly aligned with his own? He genuinely wondered if she had worked in the Cavender house at all and wasn’t some faerie that had wandered out of the woods to enchant him. These days alone with her in the country had been some of the happiest he had experienced with a woman. He was ready to find her an apartment in London, to send her there with an allowance to buy anything she fancied, and to have all of her servant’s clothes burned. He could do it tomorrow. She shouldn’t spend another day working for his family.

“Why do you want to keep working at this ball?” He asked her.

Sophie lifted her head, brow furrowed. “So I can earn some money.”

Benedict sat up and leaned toward her. “You don’t need to earn money. I’ll take care of you.” He pressed his torso against hers and murmured, “I can give you whatever you want.”

Whether it was her pride or some courage gifted to her by the tea, Sophie felt no fear in being honest with him. “I don’t want you to.” Her voice was more stern than she had intended and he scowled.

“Why can��t we just stay like this? Have this time together?” She nuzzled against his neck and planted a soft kiss on his lips. This was everything she wanted, or at least everything that she could reasonably have with Benedict. She would never experience her dreams of marrying him, or walking on his arm in public, or being with him forever. But she could have these days, weeks or even months if she were lucky, where they enjoyed each other’s company and bodies, and she was grateful for it. Incredibly grateful. It wasn’t perfect, but it was closer to her dreams than she could have ever imagined over the past two years. She would cherish these days forever, but she refused to hinge her hopes or her future on them, when they would never lead to anything.

“I don’t want to be kept somewhere,” she confessed. “Locked in a pretty box for you to play with.”

Benedict pulled back, looking insulted. “Why?”

Sophie sighed, overcome with the weight of her emotions and a wave of approaching sleep. “Because it can’t last forever and I will need work to fall back on.” She rested her head back on her arms and closed her eyes. “You must tell me once you find her,” she sighed.

Benedict looked at her, startled. Find who? Surely she didn’t know about…

As if reading his mind Sophie continued, mumbling. “The woman you will marry. So that I will know to leave. Promise me, Ben.” Her head lolled as she drifted off, her last words barely above a whisper. “I cannot share you.”

Something in Benedict’s chest clenched and again he found himself struggling to breathe. Suddenly the thought of not having Sophie around was unsettling. More unsettling than it should have been for having known her such a short time. She didn’t want to share him with his wife. Did she mean to reveal that to him or did it slip out? He couldn’t tell how it made him feel. Once again he knew she was right. He doubted he could sustain a life as a bachelor chasing after a maid who refused to be kept as a mistress. He would need to marry. Hell, a part of him wanted to marry. It was who that was the problem. He couldn’t find the lady in silver but knew that if he ever did and if she would have him, he would marry her and then there would be no room for Sophie. It made him sad and it made him confused and he was so damned tired. So he resigned himself to following Sophie’s lead and just enjoying the time they had together, for however long it lasted.

Tagging: @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @secretagentbucky @eg-dr3amer3 @time-to-hit-the-clouds @lyta2323 @autumn-grace @sadprose-auroras @the-other-art-blog @goldrambutan @colettebronte @heeyyyou @musicismyoxygen84 @faye-tale @ambitionspassionscoffee @starchaser325 @malna4903 @sincere-sarcasm @kmc1989 @makaylan @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @alexandrainlove @chase-your-dreams-away

#let me be your anchor #an offer from a gentleman #benedict bridgerton x sophie beckett #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #sophie beckett fanfiction #benophie #benophie fanfiction #benedict bridgerton smut #benedict bridgerton #sophie beckett #bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #head canon

102 notes · View notes

hoseokslefteyebrow · 2 months

Text

The Anomaly || JJK

Chapter 8: Seance

summary : In which you're isekai'd from your (own) parallel Jujutsu Kaisen universe to the canon universe.

wordcount : 2.9k

Pairing: Jujutsu Kaisen X Reader, eventually Character x Reader (idk who yet tho)

Masterlist | Next

Soon enough, you, Megumi, Yuuji and Ino are in front of the veil.

" Nope, it didn't even budge."

Ino is watching with wide eyes as Yuuji punches the veil, which rumbles in response.

"N-nice try."

It must be his first time seeing Yuuji's strength.

" The veil's sturdy. We'll have to find a weak spot and put a hole in it, even for a moment. We can't do anything without getting inside."

While Megumi's speaking, Yuuji casually drop kicks a curse. You're not useless either. You've uncapped one of your two water skins, and have created a whiplash of the water, hitting curses left and right.

Ino glances at your skill, impressed. He's never seen anything like it before.

" Water Manipulation."

You answer the question he hasn't asked just yet.

His brows raise in surprise. He's never heard of that technique before.

Meanwhile, Yuuji blinks.

" Huh, why not?"

"Yuuji, this is the veil that keeps sorcerers from entering."

You point out, cringing as Megumi's Demon Dog digs into the curse Yuuji just drop kicked like it's a meal.

"Veils are for cover and protection, right? Which fundamentally means that the one who deployed it must be inside."

Soon enough everyone is brainstorming. It gets down to it that there's a good chance that the one who cast the veil is outside of it. Besides, if they were inside, Yuuji's punch must've worked. Which it didn't.

" By that logic, they must've centered it around a place that stands out, don't you think? because the increased risk of discovering would make it even stronger?"

You find yourself nodding to Megumi's words, eyes flicking to the high building behind you. If Megumi's words were true, then the building behind you would be a good, not so subtle, hiding spot.

" A place that stands out?"

All three guys follow your line of sight.

Cerulean Tower.

Soon enough, you've formed a plan together. Megumi would summon Nue, and Yuuji would use the cord he has kept around casually in his pocket (Maki said It'd be useful) to catch them off guard. You and Ino would take out the veil, which must be in some kind of bolt looking object, according to Yuuji.

Soon enough, the plan is set in motion. Yuuji casually takes all three curse users by surprise, taking them with him with the cord, exactly according to plan.

Ino glances at the odd bolt like sealed object.

"So this is the foundation of the veil?"

Yuuji nods, explaining that the conditions for the veil were already inside.

soon enough, Ino breaks the object.

However, the veil doesn't break.

" There must've been three."

You mumble, judging by the dots in the ground. You glance at the curse users, as do the others. Ino seems to catch sight of the curse user who's holding the remaining two at the same time you do. Yuuji is already chasing at the curse user by the time the two of you notice.

He calls something to Megumi as he launches himself and the curse user off the building, leaving you and Ino to deal with the two in front of you.

A grandma and her grandson, judging by the looks of it.

Literally, that's how they address one another.

" Now, I've got my underclassmen to look out for. I better snag some achievements and hit that first-grade rank."

You're not sure why he's sharing this with you, or the curse users.

You don't bother asking, or uncapping either of your water skins. You need to be careful in your use of water. It's not like you can ever run out of a water source to be exact, but still.

You'd rather not turn to those measures.

Beside you, Ino summons something.

" Y/N. Join your classmates. I can handle this."

He'd rather keep all the first years together, just to be sure.

Your eyes flash with surprise. You glance at the curse users.

" Are you sure?"

He nods.

You search his features before nodding. Turning around, you make quick work of jumping down. Still, you scream as you plummet right towards your friends. You hurriedly uncap one of your water skins, manipulating the water in it to the ground, the water reaching for you like an elegant wave. Megumi and Yuuji both seem surprised at your arrival.

" Wasn't the plan that you'd stay with Ino?"

" he wanted me to join you two. What's the situation looking like?" You ask.

The two of them nod in front of them, towards the man who lies rolled up on the floor.

" Huh? His body is clean."

You point out with a raised brow. Megumi nods.

"Exactly. Get up, sneaky old geezer!"

For a moment, the man doesn't respond. He simply remains there, ignoring Megumi's words.

" Good grief. Kids these days got no pity for us old folks."

You watch as he gets up, snapping the wire around him like it's nothing.

" We can't waste time here."

" We won't. Y/N, follow me in."

You glance at Yuuji in surprise, before nodding, enforcing your whole body with cursed energy.

He must've remembered the training the two of you did not too long ago.

" Hey Y/N, we know you're pretty skilled with your cursed technique, but are you also good in hand to hand combat? Considering you always keep enemies at a distance."

You glance up from where you're resting in the grassy field of the school, leaning against Nobara.

" What kind of question is that, Itadori? Do you want to fight her?"

Nobara scowls at him from beside you. You smile at her expression.

Yuuji hurriedly shakes his head.

" Ah, no. I didn't mean it like that. I was just curious.-"

" I am. My mother wasn't sure if I would manifest a technique, so she made sure I knew how to handle myself if the other kids of the clan ever decided to pick on me. I used to fight a lot."

Nobara raises a brow, turning to you in surprise.

" You did? You don't seem like the violent type."

" I'm not. At least, not anymore. I used to be before I manifested my cursed technique. I was a late bloomer as well, it didn't happen until I was 8.- But I used to pick a fight with any cousin who looked at me like I was dirt. That was a lot of cousins. Not Noritoshi though, we got along since the day we met. our mothers are fond of one another."

" Ah, right. You're part of the Kamo clan. what was your life like there?"

You blink, shrugging.

" Hard. The Kamo clan hates me. My technique renders their own useless."

They both nod. Truthfully, they don't really remember what the Kamo clan's technique was. Nor do they really care.

" Anyway-"

You get up, dusting off your clothes as you turn to face him.

" You wanna try fighting me?"

Yuuji blinks.

" Are you sure? I don't want to hurt you."

" For that you need to be able to hit me first.-"

You grin at him.

" -Besides, I'm you twi- Sukuna's best friend. You think he ever goes soft on me during training?"

Yuuji hums, grinning as he too gets up.

Nobara moves to the side of the field, your water skins laid beside her.

Megumi blinks, approaching the scene as he rubs his shoulder.

" What're they doing now?"

" Training. How was your training with Maki?"

He grits his teeth, flexing his arm.

" Instructive."

She smiles.

And then you and Yuuji move.

You're surprisingly quick on your feet without your water skins adding extra weight on you. You dance around Yuuji like some kind of dancer, jumping around weightlessly as you avoid his hits and kicks. Sometimes, you dab at him right after you've avoided yet another punch.

Eventually, you haven't necessarily beaten Yuuji. However, he gives up, dizzy from the countless circling movements you move in.

Eventually, you end up making an easy gateway for Yuuji to punch through, time and time again. In between You and Yuuji's combined attacks, Megumi makes his way through with demon dog, along with aiming at him with a cursed tool. The old man is swift as well, avoiding most hits, and for some reason remaining unaffected by any other punch that does hit him.

Eventually, he takes out a pocket knife, shallowly slicing through Yuuji. Yuuji doesn't seem affected, back to punching him in the same second. Megumi comes between the two smoothly, Megumi's toad shikigami slinging the curse user into the wall.

" Itadori!"

" No worries, just a scratch."

You follow the man's movements with your eyes, uncapping a water skin to heal the shallow cut on Yuuji anyway within seconds.

Yuuji nods at you in thanks.

" Such power. Such promising features."

How was this man still uninjured?

" Makes killing you all more worth it."

Beside Yuuji, you can see Megumi puzzle as well from the corner of your eye.

Was he uninjured because of some kind of cursed technique?

" Demon Dog's claws can injure even special grades.."

" I hit him with all I got too.."

" Then why..?"

You can hear the frustration in Megumi's voice.

You wonder the same thing.

" Then how is he completely unscathed?"

You furrow your brows.

" He can't have something like cursed energy nullification.. right?"

All you get in response are furrowed brows of concern.

And then the man's on you again.

" We were free. But that freedom was taken from us! By Gojo Satoru!"

He manages to whack a kick right into Yuuji's face, Megumi's sword slicing right through the fence behind him.

" I will never retire!-"

Megumi blocks his kick, the blunt back of his sword hitting the old man right in the head.

Sadly, he doesn't relent in his nonsense.

" I'll trample over the weak until the day I die!"

He manages to break free from Megumi, though Megumi does end up slicing him right across the face with his blade. You kick him away, creating a small distance again.

" Seriously, what's with this guy?! I get that he's tough, but there has to be more to it!"

For a moment, you and Megumi try to puzzle his technique together, considering it has to have to do something with that.

"Hey! Gojo Satoru is here in Shibuya! You better leave the foundations for the veil behind and run!"

Both you and Yuuji glance at Megumi in question.

" What lousy bluff. Gojo Satoru is sealed. You guys yelled it out for the world to hear. Why do you think we curse users are out? Otherwise I would be sleeping."

So he can't beat Gojo sensei. It can't be cursed energy nullification.

" Fushiguro~, you suck at lying."

Yuuji's pouting, laying a hand on his best friend's shoulder.

"It's okay though. You tried."

He's being dramatic, all puppy eyes. You can't help but giggle slightly at the behavior. Megumi seems more annoyed by it.

" Shut up."

" If you don't want to fight, I'll kill you now."

" get ready."

You do just as Yuuji says, this time uncapping one of your water skins.- But then Megumi's eyes widen.

" Rabbit escape."

At once, multiple rabbits hop up, out of Megumi's shadow, they block the man's vision. One ends up in Yuuji's arms, and you pick one up too. It's surprisingly soft. You didn't except shikigami to actually be soft. ( You've asked your universe's Megumi to let you pet his rabbits. He's always said no.)

You glance at Megumi in surprise.

" Did you figure out his technique?"

He nods, tugging Yuuji back by his hood.

Inverse, that's his technique. The harder you punch, the less damage he receives.

Megumi has a plan, one you can follow with ease. Act like you don't know. You will land an exceptionally useless attack, Yuuji a rough one, and Megumi in between. It should render his technique.

It takes only a few moments, and then you're back. Megumi opens the attack, landing max elephant right on the man's head.

The man grins.

" Is that all that you've got?"

Max elephant dissipates.

" Come down and face me like a real man!"

The man yells up to where Megumi is currently stood on top of a lantern pole. Megumi simply points down.

" That's more their style."

Yuuji straight up throws a car at him.

Where he gets the strength from, you don't know.

You follow him in, your water skin uncapped as you chase after him, a long elegant line of water following you at your command. Megumi and Yuuji follow in too, charging up for what would be 'the final blow'. All three of you at once, locking him in position. At the very last minute, your manipulation on the water loosens. It turns into one big splash, only strong enough to push over a young child at most. Megumi summons a toad shikigami at the last second, and Yuuji punches him square in the stumic.

The attack works. He's coughing up blood. You don't stop there, the three of you each punch him one by one, landing a hit square on him.

He doesn't like it.

" Don't get cocky over that, you brats!"

The three of you jump away. Yuuji charges up with cursed energy, pretending to hit him square in the face once more. However, just before his fist is about to make contact with the man's face, he drops all cursed energy. The power behind it disappears, instead landing a raw punch square on the man's face.

it seems like Megumi's plan worked out.

" You're surprisingly adept."

" Really?"

Yuuji cocks his head at Megumi's words.

You smile, about to add on to their conversation, when you feel something.

It's like a call, pulling at your cursed energy.

Your smile falters, turning around in the directions where you can feel it coming from.

Was there perhaps another you in this universe with cursed energy? Or was it someone else?

" Pickled mustard leaf?"

Sukuna is angry. And disgusted. And irritated. especially irritated. How dare you disappear at the hands of the cursed spirit, causing him to chase after you? He's got zero idea what's wrong with Shibuya today. He can't leave, because of the stupid veil that keeps him from leaving. He's beating up curses left and right. ripping through them with a wicked blade, it's edges reversed, jagged, meant to inflict pain on curses ( for his own sick amusement, you cringe at it every time you see it.) there's something odd about the curses he's ripping through though. They're bleeding.

Nonetheless, he keeps going, only pausing to look at Inumaki.

" Who the fuck you callin' Yuuji?!"

For a split moment, tension between them rises. Sukuna raises his free hand, probably to swing it down for added dramatics, when he pauses, completely stilling. his eyes are fixed on his bracelet, the water in it swishing in a particular direction, even when he stands still. Sukuna's eyes are wide, realization hitting him.

Meanwhile Inumaki studies Sukuna. He looks like Yuuji, and he looks like Ryomen Sukuna, Yet he's completely different. He's much more buff, and for some reason, he's tall, taller than Inumaki, and taller than the Yuuji he knows. This must be your Sukuna. His tattoos are similar, yet not the same. There's no mark on his forehead, no slits under his eyes that should represent another pair of eyes.

Meanwhile, Sukuna's focus shifts to Inumaki, his gaze hard. He still has no idea what's going on. As far as he's concerned. He's in his Shibuya. He has no idea about what's going on just yet.

" Where's Y/N?"

Inumaki tenses.

He's heard that your Sukuna is different, kinder even, yet he's still intimidated. He's got no cursed energy. Yet the blood that's staining the jagged side of his blade, splatters of it on his face and clothes too, make him appear much more menacing than most sorcerers he's had to face. Especially with the cold look in his eyes.

He looks like he's ready to kill him.

[ A/N: Smoll heads up, I'm only catching up to what happens after Shibuya now and well,, err- it's a puzzle for the story line. After the Shibuya incident, updates will be slow.

ps. Would you be interested in silly little drabbles to keep you guys engaged in the story about Y/N in her universe? ]

Tag list:

@luxylucylou @kalulakunundrum @strxbxrrylover @aethersslave @jenniferrvsesi @hanatsuki-hime @betizda

#idkeitherman #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #megumi fushiguro #platonic jujutsu kaisen #yuji itadori #ino takuma #nobara kugisaki #FINALLY THEY'RE FIGHTING

52 notes · View notes

lena-in-a-red-dress · 5 months

Text

Blue and Fire Engine Red, Pt 5

Special thanks to @magicalstripedhorse, who helped keep this installment on track. :)

-----

“Oh no,” Kara drawls the moment she steps out onto the stoop of her building eight days later. “You have got to be kidding me.”

Lena smirks, leaning casually against the side of an old beat up pick up truck. The red ball-cap on her head is just as worn, its frayed bill extending backwards from Lena’s head.

“Flannel? Really?” Kara eyes the shirt in question where it’s tied around Lena’s waist. “Can you be any more of a lesbian?”

Lena spreads her hands. “We’re going to a farmer’s market,” she says. “What did you expect? An LBD?”

“Hm,” Kara hums, bouncing down the steps to greet her girlfriend with a kiss. “Maybe for dinner later.”

She definitely wouldn’t mind seeing Lena in a little black dress. Her mind conjures up an image that very nearly makes her pull Lena back upstairs, but the call of fresh fruit and vegetables proves to be too strong.

“All right, Tegan and Sara, let’s get going.”

The drive is somewhat familiar, as Kara has been to the farmers market before, but it’s been a while and it takes longer than Kara remembers. She’s not mad about it though– it gives her time to catch up with Lena about their weeks, which are relatively tame for a week in the life of first responders.

Lena had a few oven fires, a serious case of whiplash during a fender bender, and not one, but two cats stuck in a tree. Definitely tops Kara’s days of petty larceny, jaywalking, and a single wellness check. But she knows better than to comment on the relative slowness– the moment it’s acknowledged is the moment the sky starts to fall.

Just when the city gives way to suburbs, Lena turns the truck into a graveled parking lot. Kara takes note of the cars already there, and the thin stream of people already circulating through the stalls. It’s only mid-morning, and she expects the crowd will only grow as the day progresses.

“Come on,” Kara calls as she hops out of the truck, slamming the dusty door behind her. “I need asparagus.”

She gets her asparagus, and much more. She snags an artichoke and some lettuce as well as some strawberries she makes a note to prep for the next time Lena comes over. Lena splits away for a short moment, and comes back with fava beans and a joke about a nice chianti that makes Kara laugh.

Produce leads to cuts of various meats out of coolers. Lena nudges her. “You like steak?”

Kara’s mouth waters. “Oh, yeah.”

Lena requests two prime ribs, and tucks them and a slab of bacon into her tote alongside her fava beans. By the time they get to the baked goods and crafts, Kara’s own bag is sitting heavy in the crook of her elbow. She moves it to her shoulder instead, and has just prodded Lena towards a live herbs vendor when a call splits the air.

“Hey, Sarge!”

Kara turns on instinct, and to her surprise Lena does as well. The expectant set of her features strikes Kara as odd, but she focuses her attention instead on who might have called for her. She doesn’t recognize any of the oncoming faces, which makes her frown.

“Sarge!”

The crowd parts just long enough for a man in a wheelchair to roll out from the throng of people. His face is round and creased with joy as he coasts towards them, but Kara pulls back slightly when she doesn’t recognize him.

Lena steps forward. “Hey, Gonzales.”

Kara watches stunned as she extends her hand and engages in a sort of handshake with the man– palms, backs, and a fist bump top and bottom. Clearly, Lena is more than familiar with the man. Kara’s gaze darts back and forth between them, taking in Lena’s easy smile and the man’s eager countenance, which had yet to dim even when he turned his gaze to Kara.

“Yo,” Gonzales says with a grin. “When Jess said you stopped by the bar with a new lady friend, I knew she must have been a looker, but damn, Sarge–”

“Watch your mouth, Corporal.”

Kara steps up to introduce herself. “Sergeant, huh?” she says, smirking. Lena has yet to return to the subject of her time in the service, so Kara is thrilled to have even just her rank. “Who’d’a thunk?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Gonzales confirms. “The sergeant here was the best damn medic in the company. Saved our unit’s ass more than a couple times.” He rolls forward a few inches to offer a handshake. “Hector Gonzales, ma’am. Pleasure to meet one of the Sarge’s lady friends.”

“Police Sergeant Kara Danvers,” Kara returns. “It’s a pleasure to meet you as well, Corporal.”

The man waves her off. “Please, it’s just Hector or Gonzales now. Gotta get used to the civvie life now. Right, Sarge?”

Lena rolls her eyes good-naturedly. “Sure.”

“You said you’re Jess’ brother?” Kara briefly scans Gonzales and notes an above the knee amputation and a serious burn scar on his right arm that stretched from his wrist to disappear under the sleeve of his t-shirt.

Hector nods enthusiastically. “Yes, ma’am!” He shoots a bright look towards Lena. “Did she tell you she got early admission to NCU? Honors track.”

Lena beams. “No, she didn’t! That’s wonderful!”

“First choice and everything. She’ll be the first one in the family to go to college, you know.”

“What is she planning to study?” Kara asks.

Hector’s grin is infectious. “Art. Our mother wanted her to be a lawyer, because that girl argue like nothing else, but she's had her sights on art from the beginning. Sarge has seen some of her drawings, when she sent some to me overseas. Remember Sarge?”

Lena nods. “They were pretty amazing.”

Kara smiles, but a tug of sadness pulls at some of her joy for Jess. She’d almost gone to art school once. That had been the goal, before the shooting. After everything that happened… well, she hasn’t picked up a brush in a long time.

“Hey,” Hector says, pulling Kara’s attention back to the conversation. “I’m getting some friends together to watch the game next weekend. You guys should come!”

Kara has no idea what game he means, or even what sport, but Lena nods. “Yeah, shoot me the details and we’ll try to make it.”

“Wilco, Sarge. Oh! And you can invite any of your folks from the firehouse too. I can tell them how lucky they are to have you.”

Lena’s cheeks flush pink. “Gonzales, I swear to god–”

“Hector!” A young hispanic woman calls from further down the aisle. “You were supposed meet me at– oh!”

“Cecilia!” Hector waves at her, beckoning her closer. “C’mere, this is the Sarge!”

Cecilia’s go wide. “Oh! Sergeant Reilly! I’ve heard so much about you!”

Lena’s easy smile widens. “Uh oh,” she groans comedically. She reaches for Kara, drawing her forward into the conversation. “This is Kara.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Kara offers gamely. They exchange handshakes, with smiles all around. Kara revels in being included, but even more so in the sense that she’s being allowed a further glimpse into who Lena is.

Hector and Cecilia are sweet together. Hector is engaged and enthusiastic, while Cecilia is a little more reserved. But Lena converses easily, laughing and grinning, totally at ease in the presence of her fellow soldier. Eventually, Cecilia reminds Hector that they’re almost due to be somewhere else.

“Right, right,” Hector nods. He prepares to roll away, but pauses to peg Lena with a stern gaze. “Game, next weekend. You’ll tell your crew?”

Lena nods with a laugh. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll let ‘em know. Good catching up, Gonzalez. Take it easy.”

“You too, Sarge! Rolling out!”

Lena watches them head off, then turns back towards Kara with a chagrined roll of her eyes. Her mouth opens, but Kara cuts her off. “Don’t you dare apologize,” she warns. “He was delightful.”

“Yeah,” Lena agrees. “He’s a good guy. Him and Jess both. They’re good eggs.”

“And besides, anyone who adores you like he does is definitely good in my book.”

This time, Lena’s roll of her eyes are directed at Kara. “Ah yes. Remind me to not let you two in a room alone. Who knows what shenanigans you’d get into–”

Suddenly a cry further down the aisle breaks through the buzz of people. Without conscious thought, or even a look between them, Kara and Lena both begin to push towards the call. Breaking through the circle already starting to form, they find a young woman seizing on the ground.

Lena immediately kneels beside her, smoothly untying her flannel and folding it as a pillow to pad the woman’s head against the pavement. “Calling a bus,” Kara says briefly, already pulling her phone out to dial.

“Hold up,” Lena calls, her voice firm with easy authority. “Got a medical alert bracelet here.” She flips the silver tag to read the inscription, then nods to herself. “No ambulance. Known condition.”

Kara nods her acknowledgement, pocketing her phone as she crouches. “What do you need?”

“Some water would be good, if you can find it.”

“On it,” Kara confirms, rising back to her feet. But the time she returns with a bottle of water from a nearby vendor, the girl’s seizing has stopped. She answers Lena’s questions with slurred, mumbling responses, but Lena doesn’t look concerned.

“Okay, Lydia, you’re doing great. Just take your time.”

Kara kneels to one knee, handing over the bottle of water. “Any chance she hit her head?”

“I’ll evaluate once she’s a little more with it. So far nothing concerning.” She glances towards the lingering crowd. “Could you get us some space?”

The remaining onlookers moved on once Kara started waving them away, assuring them the situation was handled. When the last resume their shopping, Lydia is blinking up at Lena with eyes rapidly sharpening with focus.

“Welp. That’s embarrassing,” she delivers drolly, pressing a hand to her forehead.

“There you are,” Lena says, gently giving Lydia’s shoulder a pat. “Lydia, my name is Lieutenant Riley with the National City Fire Department. Do you feel ready to sit up? I’ve some water here I’d like you to sip.”

Lydia manages to sit upright with only a little bit of an assist from Lena. She accepts the open water bottle with both hands, which tremble as they lift the water to her lips. She takes several long gulps before groaning.

“Do you mind if I check your head for bumps?” Lena asks. “We want to make sure you didn’t hit your head on the way down.”

Lydia nods her consent, and holds still as Lena begins to investigate the back of her head with expert fingers. “Anything hurt?”

“Just my pride,” Lydia quips. When she catches Kara’s sympathetic gaze, she continues. “It’s still relatively new. My doctor says it should get better with medication, but… ugh! All I wanted was some asparagus!” She sighs. “At least I felt this one coming on– managed to sit down before it hit.”

Lena pulls away, placing her hands on her knees as she gives her patient a warm smile. “Well, I didn’t find any bumps or lumps, so it looks like that did the trick. Good thinking.”

“Oh god,” Lydia groans. “You didn’t call an ambulance, did you?”

“Nope.” Lena nods towards the girl’s wrist. “Medic alert did its job.”

“Thank goodness,” Lydia sighs in relief. “I seriously can not afford another trip.”

Lena chuckles, rubbing Lydia’s back. “I can imagine. How do you feel about trying to stand? I’d feel better if we got you to some shade.”

She gives Lydia a hand up, who seems steady on her feet. Once satisfied the girl wasn’t about to keel over, Lena nods towards a small patch of trees. “How about that bench over there?”

Kara hovers, adrift without a way to help. She carries hers and Lena’s bags of goodies along with her as they all move towards the bench.

“How are you feeling?” Lena checks in once they’re seated.

Lydia pauses, taking stock. “Just tired, I think. Always feel like I got hit by a freight train, but it usually goes away.” She glances at Lena. “You guys seriously don’t have to stay.”

“I’d feel better if we did. Just until you feel well enough to finish up and get yourself home.”

“Okay.” Lydia stares at the open water bottle resting on her thigh, then looks back to Lena. “You said you were a firefighter?”

“And medic,” Kara offers, unable to keep quiet. Lena’s eyes flash at her, but in affection or irritation, Kara can’t tell.

Lydia’s eyes spark with interest. “I want to go to med school after undergrad. I don’t know what discipline yet, though.”

Kara listens to them converse for several minutes, propping herself up against the nearest tree. Closing her eyes against the sun, she breathes deep the smell of spring blossoms and fresh cut grass, letting the hum of their voices lull her to a state between waking and sleeping. Well, maybe more asleep than not, considering the bench is empty when she next blinks her eyes open. Lydia is nowhere to be found, and Lena is sitting on the ground beside her, scrolling through her phone.

“You could have woken me up,” Kara gripes half-heartedly.

“But it’s such a nice day to lean against a tree,” Lena returns, half teasing.

Kara reaches over until she finds Lena’s hand, lacing their fingers together. Neither of them move to rise.

“You were amazing just now.”

Lena merely shrugs. “Anyone in my position would have done the same.”

“We both know there aren’t many people who can do what you do.”

A hum answers her, but Lena refrains from saying anything else. Kara bites back a frown. She knows Lena doesn’t feel comfortable sharing anything about her time overseas as a combat medic– not entirely unexpected. Some of Kara’s veteran coworkers feel the same. And not all first responders respond well to positive recognition, which isn’t uncommon in the first responder community either. But Kara can’t shake the feeling in her gut that she heard a note of shame in Lena’s voice.

Whatever it is, Kara resolves to know it better, no matter how long it takes.

“Wanna get out of here?” Lena asks quietly. “I think I hear a steak dinner calling your name.”

Kara grins, but closes her eyes and leans her head against the tree behind her once more. “Just a few more minutes.”

She hears Lena smile, then a rustle as Lena leans back as well.

A good day indeed.

#supercorp #blue and fire engine red #the farmers market episode #they're lesbians harold

113 notes · View notes

dreamwritersworld · 1 year

Text

How bad can I be.? (Sully family x reader)

Jake Sully. A Olo'eyktan, husband and…father. To say he was the best was well…far from the truth. With such a high role he strived for a picture perfect family.

How bad could I possible be? Let’s see.

All five of those kids had so much to give and see about the world…but with the pressure their father pushed onto them, it just couldn’t work.

how bad, bad can I be?

all the lies the people are buying.

“Neteyam are you ok-“ a fellow soldier asked the clearly disoriented Neteyam who had stayed up the entire night training only getting an hour of sleep.

“He’s fine. All is good here soldier, keep moving.”

The soldiers never questioned their leader, after all he was the best. Neteyam’s body limped forward at the sudden push to wake up, from his father…

how bad, bad can I be?

and the attention is multiplying!

Y/n did not train to become a soldier, she wasn’t the best at healing…she was connected to the world just like Kiri. Her voice was one of a siren, it provided the people with joy and happiness. In Jake’s eyes that child was made to perform. He placed his human culture onto her.

“sure I’ll play with you Tuk!-“

“Y/n you can’t speak! You must rest your voice. Go and practice your choreography right now!”

It was funny truly, Y/n may have seemed like she had it the easiest out of everyone. However she was never allowed to speak, she couldn’t have fun and say everything she was thinking. Her body was constantly exhausted from taking her energy of joy and happiness and putting it into others.

When Y/n walked through the village she held such great responsibility to be a role model. Jake had done so well at pushing his human beliefs that he got the people to go so far as follow her every move. Crowds and smiles would watch and crowd her after every performance, Y/n had panic attacks every time when they did.

how bad, bad can I be?

and their mother is lying.

“Did you see Lo’ak? I heard he was on the outskirts of the forests?”

Gasps were in reply to the whispered hushed.

Neytiri’s head turned to this taking her attention away from observing her daughter Kiri and tuk who were practing their healing skills on wounded soldier.

The two children were faced away from the people so no one saw kiri’s stressed out tears from having to work quickly and having their energy drained just as fast as their tears…no one knew the quickly beating heart and whimpers of Tuk who was all too little to have been thrown into a job like this.

“That is not true. Lo’ak was with his father, protecting our people! You must not lie again.”

Neytiri cleared up all rumors with her sternness but the truth was Lo’ak was out but…not with his father. Jake had grounded him for months for skipping training for a day, Lo’ak decided to run off…the next couple of months Lo’ak fell into some type of depression, he no longer was allowed to explore and his life was soon filled with training and only that.

how bad, bad can I be?

and their bodies are denying.

Every night, those children came home so exhausted they just limped their way to bed not realizing they were fainting onto it each and every time while their bodies begged for comfort.

Lo’ak would sometimes grow sick from training while Neteyam’s body remained sore. Kiri and Tuk bodies would heat up from taking all the pain from soldier and healing them. Y/n’s body would never forget her moves and words from her performances in her sleep, they never allowed her to fully rest. She was so afraid of forgetting and her body felt like it was moving 1000 miles per hour from the whiplash of it all.

All children just begged Eywa for a better life, willing to give anything for more.

Neteyam would give up all the stats and awards under his belt he worked so hard for just to have stress less life.

Lo’ak would give up his favorite places to visit for peace and quiet just to find something new.

Kiri would give up her love for healing to finally find peace for herself.

Tuk would give up her love for others just for another taste of her early childhood.

Y/n would give up her voice, the one she held so dearly to her heart…all for a chance to finally say more than a few words.

These children would give up everything to live like other children even if it was just for five minutes.

how bad, bad can I be?

Who cares if a few kids are crying?!…

!💓!

This is just one part…I think but i hope you guys love this !💓

Tag list: @noodlesfics @eywas-heir @itshype @zatarias-pandora @yeosxxx @arminsgfloll @tsireyafilms @neteyamforlife @aimsro @elegantkidfansoul @goodiesinthecloset21 @nikotokitaswife @bucky1235 @detectivesparrow @kikosaurscave @ssc7514 @simp-erformarvelwomen @eirianna @ambria @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @lv9su @luciddasher @dakotali @httpjiikook @tainted-artist4161 @fanboyluvr @bat1212 @ducks118 @midnightliacr @osakis-gf @briannalarae @thirsty4nonlivingmen @historygeekqueen @abbersreads @hoodiepandaninja16 @valovesyou @silentlyswimming @r3dc4ndy @onlytays @papichulo120627 @tsamiaxo @wwwellacom @dotheyevenknowmars @midgetpottermills @he110hon

#angst #jake sully x reader #neteyam x reader #loak x reader #neteyam sully #neytiri sully #sully family x reader #avatar loak #avatar the way of water #sully family x daughter reader

313 notes · View notes

husbandhoshi · 2 years

Note

Heheh mingyu + cute + 9:27am

[9:27]

on god, i will kill whoever shares a wall with mingyu, is your first thought of the day.

you lay there, head positively spinning, as you hear the perpetrator snooze their train horn alarm for the fifth time that morning.

your second is, fuck, i actually went home with him, and your third falls somewhere along the lines of having the worst hangover headache of your twenty something years of being alive.

the bed next to you is cold (mingyu probably has class), you’re in a big white shirt (must have put it on after getting your back blown out), and curiously, mingyu has a studio ghibli poster you never noticed on the back of his door (good, although it would have ruined the mood if you knew totoro had witnessed all of that).

the unsavory details from last night come flooding back to you like the final chapter of an agatha christie novel, except you still don’t really get it.

kim mingyu, resident heartthrob of sigma alpha epsilon and the guy you just happened to tutor on tuesdays, not only invited you to a party, but somehow landed you in his bed, wearing his clothes.

on an average day, sleeping with a guy five million miles out of your league would be the college fairytale of your dreams, except you have class in two hours and the room is so bright, so flooded with sunlight, you think you will actually die if you open your eyes any wider.

you kind of wished things would be different.

(let’s get out of here, mingyu had said last night, and a part of you already knew what was going to happen. but instead, he walked you to in-n-out, draped in his big letterman jacket, and you spent the next two hours talking about everything and nothing over an order of animal fries.

and you remember him hovering over you, his silver necklace tantalizing and cold against the skin of your neck, asking in that awfully low voice of his—are you sure? we don’t have to.

and you pleaded and begged yes, yes, want it, want you, because you actually had the most embarrassing crush on him and somehow you fell in love all over again watching him get thousand island sauce on that nice button up of his.)

but in true fratboy fashion, he’s gone, and you’re just another girl left to dry in the wretched sigma house.

it’s then that you hear a knock on the door, at first frantic, then softly.

“mingyu’s not here,” you holler, although it’s more of a croak than a shout. “i don’t even live here.”

“um. this is mingyu,” comes the muffled voice. “sorry, i—” you can just picture him rubbing the back of his neck, piecing his next sentence together. “i thought you might want some breakfast?”

hearing the same voice that said basically unrepeatable things last night now shy as ever, asking permission to enter his own room, gives you the worst whiplash of your life. on top of that, you’re embarrassingly relieved that he did not, in fact, abandon you.

“yeah, uh, sure. thanks.” you scramble for your phone to make sure you look ok, but promptly realize the fool is charging it on his desk. so instead you just lay there, trying to look as alive as possible.

the door opens slowly, and through your half-lidded, squinty eyes, you make out what possibly could be the most beautiful man alive, looking like a dream in low hanging sweats and a muscle tee. and he has a plate of pancakes and orange juice.

“sorry, i look terrible.” the words just fly out of your mouth.

“no you don’t,” he chides in that awfully attractive pout of his. “was gonna say you look great. especially after everything that happened last night.”

he grins, all teeth and pretty pink lips, as you fight to not pull the covers over your head and just perish on the spot. “please shut up. i thought you abandoned me, you know. and i decided i was gonna stop tutoring you and let you fail organic chemistry.”

mingyu laughs and sits beside you on the bed, warm gaze falling on you. “i’m sorry. please don’t do that. i need you,” he jokes, and you both laugh again, feeling that post hookup awkwardness permeate the space.

he moves to brush the hair out of your forehead, but stops himself. he’s not sure what to do (he likes you, a lot actually, and that itself is enough to zap all rational thought from his brain).

“are you feeling ok?” mingyu asks instead. “i brought a warm towel and an advil. you know, uh, if you had a headache or something.”

it’s cute seeing him trip over his words, and you nod, giving him the ok to fuss over you.

“can you sit up? do you want me to feed you?” the questions come a mile a minute, but you’re never one to complain over a real life disney prince fawning over you.

so you let him, god, for some reason him propping you up against his pillows is a thousand times hotter than whatever he did last night, and you make the executive decision to waste your entire friday morning to spend it with him.

you’re still not sure what you are—friends, acquaintances, or something in the middle.

you wouldn’t dare think lovers though, except when he blows on a forkful of pancake to cool it down, you briefly consider marriage.

(before you go, he kisses your forehead. “catch a movie with me tomorrow?” he asks, taking his sunglasses off the top of his head and sliding them onto your face—he knows you lied when you said your head wasn’t hurting anymore.

“is this because you wanna—”

“it’s because i want to take you on a date. a real one. can i?”

he smiles at you again, radiant and honest, and you find you don’t doubt him for a second.)

#sorry this is LONG #mingyu #mine #ask #anon #mingyu imagines #seventeen imagines #mingyu fluff #mingyu x reader

813 notes · View notes

filthyjoetini · 1 year

Text

Love is in the Air(BnB)

a/n: Part 7! Sorry it took me so long..also, this is the last part of this story but there will be an epilogue! Yay! Thank you again to @barfightzanddiscolightz for being so patient with me and your time and effort and friendship, I looove youu. And THANK YOU, my loves, for reading. I never could’ve imagined that this little idea of mine would become this big. I loved receiving your feedback and your messages. Anyway, enjoy!

warnings: just so many emotions. Don’t get whiplash!

wordcount: 5k

part 1 - Friday night - part 2 - Saturday - part 3 - Sunday - part 4 - Monday - part 5 - Tuesday - part 6 - Wednesday - Epilogue

Thursday

Yawning, you toyed with the sausages and baked beans of the full English breakfast that Wesley had treated you to on your final morning at his and Joe’s flat. Occasionally, you’d take a bite of the food in front of you. You hadn’t slept at all last night, too afraid to miss precious time with Joe. The man in question was sitting beside you, silently watching you play with your food, nibbling on a fried mushroom.

Joe had fallen asleep rather quickly after a sweet kiss goodnight and yet another promise that you’d make it work. You guessed that dealing with your doubts must be very exhausting for him, so you decided to just watch him sleep. Occasionally, he would mumble in his sleep and even form fully comprehensible sentences. Some of them were odd and made no sense at all whilst others were just plain out funny. You had to pull yourself together so you wouldn’t laugh out loud. Most of the time, he slept peacefully, and you liked to think that your gentle touch through his hair and comforting back rubs played a role.

Letting out a sigh of defeat, you set down the fork next to your plate and ran both of your hands down your face.

“Everything alright, love?”, asked Wesley, his mouth full of baked beans.

“Yeah…sorry, I’m just not that hungry, but the food is delicious.", you replied apologetically.

Wesley swallowed down his bite of food and smiled at you compassionately. As you looked at his kind face, guilt washed over you because you knew how much effort he had put into the breakfast you had silently watched him prepare. Determined not to disappoint him, you picked up your fork again and forcefully stabbed a whole sausage with it, quickly biting off half of it. Joe raised an eyebrow at you, stifling a laugh, whilst Wesley couldn’t help but burst into laughter.

“Hey, you don’t need to force yourself to eat it.”, Wesley explained, still chuckling after you had swallowed your bite of sausage. “If you want, we can pack it into a container so you can take it with you and eat it on the plane.”

You nodded curtly and set down your cutlery once more, pushing your plate away from you and instead picking up your morning tea, gingerly bringing it to your lips.

“OK.”, Wesley announced after he had cleared his plate, rising from the chair. “I have to leave soon…oh come on, love, no, no, no…no sad faces right now.”, he chided you softly when he noticed your teary eyes and downturned lips. Joe immediately leaned over from his chair and placed a gentle kiss to your temple, tenderly resting his hand atop yours, which was now gripping the table’s edge. He soothingly rubbed your hand, trying to get you to relax your grip. Eyes unfocused, you stared blankly at the wall across the table. You weren't ready to say goodbye to Wesley just yet; you needed more time.

Wesley, whose face was now also reflecting sadness, knelt beside you and lightly tapped his finger on your thigh. Slowly, you blinked, refocusing your gaze, and turned to face him. His hand now fully rested on your thigh, gently squeezing it.

“Love, believe me. This is hard for me too.”, he explained, a faint smile gracing his lips. “I mean, I gained a new bestie in a few short days. That doesn't happen often, you know. I’m so very glad I got to meet you, which is why I got you a little something. If you’ll follow me.”

Removing his hand from your thigh, Wesley stood up, extending his hand towards you. You looked at him, then at Joe, who managed to make you let go of the table. Now, your hand was in Joe's, his thumb tenderly caressing the side of yours. When you met his gaze, he nodded softly, released your hand, and got up as well.

“Go on. I’ll take care of the dishes.”, he said, placing another kiss on your temple before starting to clear the table. You slowly rose from your chair, placing your hand in Wesley's open palm. He gently led you out of the kitchen and into the hallway, eventually stopping in front of the commode adorned with the various photographs that hung on the wall above it. Letting go of your hand, he opened the top drawer and pulled out a small envelope. He quickly shut the drawer again and slowly turned to face you, soft smile still playing on his lips as he held out the envelope to you.

“Here, this is for you.”

Gingerly, you took it from his fingers and slowly opened it. Inside were several photographs, which you carefully extracted and examined one by one.

The first one captured the lively night at the pub when you first met Joe and Wesley's friends. It showed you twirling and laughing with Becky and Dan whilst Felix, Jack, and Oliver were pictured behind you, gulping down their pints. Standing out amongst them was Joe, whose eyes were filled with adoration as he watched you. The next photo displayed the group’s broad smiles on the day at the lake, taken by Wesley using his phone’s self-timer. It was a fantastic shot. The third photo depicted you and Joe, cuddled up and sleeping on the sofa. You had been illuminated only by the hallway's ceiling light; the rest of the room shrouded in darkness.

You looked up at Wesley with a raised eyebrow to which he just shrugged and giggled.

“You both looked adorable. I couldn’t resist.”

You playfully shoved his shoulder, then shifted your attention to the last photograph. It captured Joe and you in a tight embrace at the pub the previous night, your heads resting on each other, as you were swaying gently. Somehow, Wesley had managed to capture just the two of you, with everyone else vanishing from around you.

You stared at the picture for what felt like an eternity when you noticed a few droplets forming on its glossy surface. Gingerly, you brought your free hand to your face, tracing the stream of tears with your fingertips. Wesley, who had been watching you intently, now engulfed you in his arms, holding you close to his chest.

A faint sob escaped your body and Wesley tried to calm you down, gently rubbing your back and shushing you softly.

“Tha-ha-nk yo-uh-hu…I’m…go-ho-nna mi-hi-ss you so-ho mu-hu-hu-huuuch.”, you cried into his chest, and he let you, continuing to stroke your back. You had tried so hard not to cry but to you, goodbyes were one of the worst things to go through and always resulted in you breaking out in tears.

Once your sobs had somewhat subsided, Wesley released his embrace and took the photos from your hand, returning them to the envelope. He placed it on the commode, then took your hands in his.

With tear-streaked cheeks, you finally looked up at him, noticing the tears pooling in the corners of his eyes, which he managed to hold back. You silently wished you were as strong as him but here you were, a blubbering mess instead.

“You’re very welcome.”, he replied, swallowing hard. “I’m gonna miss you too…so much.” He turned to face the wall above the commode and spoke again. “By the way, I made copies of the pictures…well only of three of them…I can’t hang the one of you lovebirds on the sofa on the wall for everyone to see. It's a bit too intimate.”

Following his gaze, you saw three new additions to the photo wall. Sniffling, you let out a choked laugh at his reasoning, understanding the significance. It was an incredibly personal moment, and you were grateful he had captured it, even if Joe and you had been oblivious to it.

“There it is…”, Wesley smiled and hugged you once more. “I’m gonna miss that smile… can I share one more secret with you?

You nodded softly, and Wesley brought his lips to your ear.

"My loneliness wasn't the only reason I rented out Joe's room.", he confessed, prompting you to lean back and look at him, eyebrows furrowed.

"Don't give me that look. It's not that bad... well, maybe it is a little bad, but hear me out, okay? So, yes, I was feeling lonely, but the money thing was a complete lie. I'm not struggling financially. The truth is, Joe has been miserable in his love life for a while. His dates never end the way he hopes. Most women figured out who he was and only wanted one thing from him. Sure, he had his fair share of flings, but as his best mate, I knew he wanted something more serious. I tried to help him, set him up on more dates, and we even tried countless dating apps. Nothing worked. Eventually, he gave up.”, he explained as you stood there, still in his embrace, shocked and feeling sorry for Joe. You couldn't imagine how challenging it must have been for him, knowing that women were only interested because of his newfound fame.

“So, you listed the room on AirBnB? Out of all places?”, you asked incredulously.

“Yes. I mean. I had a plan. Besides, I received numerous inquiries. I went through all of them, and then I saw you, and it felt perfect."

“Jesus Christ, Wesley.”, you scolded, wriggling out of his arms. “This could have gone in a completely different direction, you know."

“But it didn’t.”, he replied, sporting a smug grin.

“No, it didn’t…which is crazy.”, you agreed.

“Look, I noticed Joe's interest after your brief interaction the night you met. I just had to work my magic."

You rolled your eyes at him and eventually pulled him into your arms, hugging him tightly.

“Thank you.”

“It was my pleasure.”, he retorted, returning your hug. "Just one thing, don't say a word to Joe about this, or he'll tear me a new arsehole.

“OK. I won’t tell him. But you definitely deserve a new one.”, you giggled softly, releasing a deep sigh.

Wesley let go of you and clapped his hands together.

“I’m really sorry, love. But I have to get going. My boss won't be pleased if I'm late for work again.”, he pouted, beckoning you into one more hug.

“I’m gonna miss you, Wes.”

“I’m gonna miss you too, love. Have a safe flight, and text me once you've landed.”

You nodded, tears welling up in your eyes once more, but Wesley shook his head, planting a tender kiss on your now dried cheek, then releasing you for the final time.

“Take care.”

“You too.”

---

After Wesley had closed the door behind him, Joe enveloped you in an embrace from behind, and you leaned back into his chest.

“Are you alright?”

“Not really.”, you confessed, and he nodded, planting a gentle kiss on the top of your head. You both stood there for a few minutes, motionless, until you finally spoke up.

“I have to finish packing my things.”

Joe nodded and hesitantly let go of you, taking your hand and leading you into his bedroom where your open suitcase and backpack were on the floor. Sighing, you eyed them warily.

"I'll go grab my toiletries. Baby, would you mind putting the rest of my clothes back in my suitcase? I'd appreciate it.”, you asked Joe with a defeated tone. Nodding, he approached the bed where a few items of clothing and two pairs of shoes were still laid out. He carefully picked up the shoes and placed them inside the netted compartment of your suitcase. You observed him for a moment, then turned and walked off to the bathroom.

Grabbing your washbag, you collected your scattered belongings, finding your hairbrush in the soap dish of the bathtub alongside your razor. Half of your lotions, face creams, and other skincare products, as well as your makeup, were scattered across the sink and floor. It took you ten minutes and two more searches through the cabinets and drawers until you were certain you had everything.

Closing your washbag, you returned to Joe's room to find him standing inside your suitcase with a huge grin on his face. You stopped dead in your tracks, raising an eyebrow and gaping at him in bewilderment. Shaking your head, you couldn't help but snort.

“What are you doing, Joe?”, you asked with a light chuckle, taking slow steps in his direction.

“I packed up the last of your things. Now all you gotta do is zip it up. If I curl up in a foetal position, you might be able to smuggle me through airport security.”, he explained animatedly. You took one more step forward, stood on your tiptoes and placed a soft peck to his lips.

“Oh, how I wish I could do that.”

Taking his hands in yours, you gently tugged at them, making him step out of the suitcase. As his feet touched the ground again, he leaned down slightly, capturing your lips in another tender kiss.

“I need to call a cab soon, my flight’s at 1:00 PM and it’s already 9:30 AM.”, you said, pulling away from the kiss. Kneeling down on one knee, you brought the suitcase closer, placed your washbag inside, and zipped it up.

“You don’t need to call a cab. I can drive you to the airport.”, Joe sweetly offered, helping you up from the floor and pulling your suitcase up as well.

“No, baby, you don’t have to do that.”, you politely declined, putting on your denim jacket and checking your trouser pockets for your phone, “Besides, didn’t you have an interview scheduled for this afternoon?”

“I cancelled it. Said I had a family emergency.”, he casually confessed. Your mouth fell open and your eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets at his nonchalant admission.

“Joseph Anthony Francis Quinn! You shouldn’t have done that. You can’t just put your life on hold because of me.”, you berated him, placing your hands on your hips. Joe initially looked incredulous, not expecting such a reaction, but upon seeing your flared nostrils and furrowed brows, he burst into laughter.

“I mean it! Don’t laugh at me!”

“You’re adorable, darling.”, he commented on your anger, taking the two steps that were in between you to close the distance. “Besides, right now, you and the limited time I have left to spend with you are more important than some silly magazine interview."

His lips were now mere millimetres away from yours and his arms wrapped around your waist. You released a shuddered breath, your anger melted away to be replaced with new tears welling up in the corners of your eyes. Softly, he hushed you, moving one hand to your face, delicately wiping away the unshed tears from your eyes down your cheeks and sealing his caress with his plump lips against yours.

In all the years you had spent on this planet, no one had gone out of their way for you like Joe had done multiple times these past few days. And that fact showed you how much he already cared for you. It was just very overwhelming for you to accept even the tiniest and most common gestures.

Reluctantly, you pulled away from his lips and cleared your throat, averting your eyes and looking down at your hands.

“Thank you.”, you whispered softly. “And sorry for chiding you.”

Chuckling softly, Joe shook his head and bent down to pick up your backpack, swiftly slinging it over his shoulder.

“It’s fine…go put on your shoes. We have to leave in five minutes otherwise you’re gonna miss your flight.”

At first, you didn’t move a muscle. Missing your flight seemed like a great idea, but then Joe moved behind you, placed his hands on your shoulders, and shoved you towards the hallway.

“Wait! I need to say bye to your bedroom!”

He rolled his eyes and went back to get your suitcase.

“Fine. I’ll wait by the door.”

He grabbed your suitcase by the handle and pulled it behind him to the bedroom door, playfully slapping your bum as he passed you, causing you to yelp softly.

“Idiot.”, you muttered under your breath, then turning to take one last look at his bedroom. You would miss his incredibly comfortable bed, which was ten times better than yours at home. And you would miss his so called “organised chaos”. But most of all, you would miss the time spent together in this very room. With a sigh, you turned and walked out of his room, closing the door behind you. Just as you were about to make your way down the hallway, the open living room door caught your attention. Glancing at Joe, who was now impatiently waiting by the front door and tapping his wrist, you nodded towards the living room, asking permission to say goodbye to it as well. He rolled his eyes once more, and you peeked inside the living room, soft smile on your face.

“Goodbye, living room. I will miss you.”, you said, then turned to the sofa, feigning disgust. "Although I won't miss you. You evil piece of furniture."

You heard a snort coming from down the hallway, followed by a whiny voice.

“Babe. Come oooon! It’s 10 o’clock! We have to go now.”

“OK, fine. I’m coming. Just tell me to my face that you want to get rid of me.”, you replied, exaggeratingly stomping towards him, crouching down, and deliberately putting on your shoes at an extra slow pace.

“Yes. Please. I can't stand having you around and taking up Wes's and my space any longer.”, he deadpanned, grabbing your hand and opening the door, practically dragging you out of the flat. You then rushed down the stairwell and out of the house to one of the parking spaces on the street where his car was parked.

He placed your suitcase in the boot before climbing into the driver’s seat and handing you your backpack.

“You ready?”

“No.”

“OK. Let’s go.”

---

Hand in hand with Joe, you patiently stood in the short queue at your airline's check-in counter, waiting to drop off your luggage. You thanked whoever was up in the sky that online check-in existed in these times you were living in because London’s traffic had once again proven to be a nightmare. It took you a gruelling hour and 15 minutes to reach London City Airport from his flat, and time was slowly but surely ticking away. You were well aware that in a couple of minutes you had to say goodbye to Joe and the uncertainty, not knowing when you would see him again, weighed heavily on your mind.

“…thank you. Here’s your receipt.”, the lady at the counter, whose professional smile showed a trace of sympathy, spoke to you, holding out your passport and receipt for you to take. Your mind being elsewhere, you didn’t notice that she was talking to you. Joe smiled at her and took your documents, exiting the queue to your left. As London City Airport was relatively small, you knew that taking the escalators upstairs would lead you directly to airport security. However, you weren't ready to go just yet because it meant leaving Joe behind.

Joe led you away from the bustling crowd, finding a quiet corner, his face displaying a sad smile. Seeing him like this almost made you break down on the spot. He spoke to you, but his words didn't register as you just saw him holding up his hand towards you, signalling for you to wait a moment. It finally sank in that this was it; you had to say goodbye. Your flight would start boarding in an hour. Shit - this means I only have 15 minutes to say goodbye to him. I’m not ready. No. No. Please. I am not ready!

Unaware of your inner turmoil, Joe had one hand rummaging through his pocket, his forehead creased in concentration, and his tongue peeked out from between his lips. You were blanky staring at him, tears burning in your eyes and lips trembling.

With a soft ahh he pulled something out from his trousers’ pocket and held it up in front of your face. Refocusing your eyes, you saw a delicate golden necklace, but what caught your attention was what dangled from it. You glanced at Joe’s hand and sure enough, his favourite ring was missing. The bulky sterling silver ring provided a striking contrast to the slender chain.

Your lips quivered and he motioned wordlessly for you to turn around which you did instantly. Once he had closed the clasp and laid the necklace gently against your skin, you turned around, covering your face with your hands as tears now silently flowed down your cheeks.

“You shouldn’t have, Joe.”, you mumbled into your hands. “This is your favourite ring.”

“And you’re my favourite person, so it’s only right that you keep it.”, he pulled you into his arms and you slung yours around his neck tightly, leaning up to press your lips against his. Suddenly, you felt a cool sensation on your arms and pulled back slightly to look up at who you now certainly could call the most important person in your life. He also had tears spilling down his face as he fought to hold back a trembling sob.

“Baby.”, you cooed softly trough your tears, pecking his lips again. “Thank you so much. I’m gonna wear it every day…I’m really sorry, I don’t have anything to give to you.”

“You don’t have to.”, he whispered back, his voice filled with tenderness. “Spending the past few days with you was enough to fill me with happiness. I will cherish every second right here.” He took one arm from around you and placed it over his heart, smiling softly through his tears, causing you to sob even harder.

Placing both hands on either side of your face, he drew you in for another deep, passionate kiss, caressing the apples of your cheeks with his thumbs. You kissed him back, leaving both his and your lips slightly swollen. Pulling back slightly, Joe whispered against your lips.

“Wanna know a secret?”

You nodded in response.

“I really, really like like you and I’m gonna miss you so so much.”

Sniffling, you nodded again, opening your mouth slightly to speak against his lips.

“Wanna know a secret too?”

Now it was his turn to nod, a small smile gracing his lips.

“I really, really like like you too and I’m also gonna miss you so so much.”

You were now both smiling against each other’s lips, tears still streaming down your faces, leaving salty trails on your chins, and staining your shirts and the floor below.

“Good thing we’re on the same page.”, Joe uttered, removing one of his hands from your face and wiping his with the sleeve of his thin jumper. “Otherwise, I might have had to take back my ring.”

You shook your head at his statement, pulling him closer to you again. He wrapped one arm around your shoulder and moved his other hand, that was still on your face, to wipe away your tears.

“Come one, darling. Time to go upstairs.”

You nodded softly and he let go of you, taking your hand in his once more. Slowly, you two made your way up the escalators to where the queue for checking the boarding passes started. Joe pulled you aside once more, holding your hands in his.

“This is it.”, he started, and you nodded, taking a deep breath. “Please call me when you’ve landed. If you forget, I will take the next flight and personally make sure you got home safely.”

You tilted your head to the side, a quaint smile forming on your lips.

“Is that a promise?”

“Babe. No. It should be a threat.”, he groaned, throwing his head back.

“Sounds like a promise, though.”

“Shush, I’m not finished yet.”, he hushed you, letting go of your hands and briefly covering your mouth with his hand. “Please call me.”

You nodded, and he continued.

“I promise, I’m gonna call you every day. We can FaceTime. I love FaceTiming, even when I'm abroad for work, which will be soon. I'm heading to the United States for some conventions, and then I'll be filming my next major film in Morocco - Gladiator 2, baby! Can you believe it? But I'll call you whenever I can, even if it's the middle of the night for me or the early hours of the day. We'll make it work.”, he rambled, his hand still covering your mouth. It was kind of cute, listening to his word vomit.

You gingerly removed his hand from your lips and tenderly held it in yours.

“We also need to finish watching Stranger Things.”, you declared, glancing up at him, searching for his warm chocolate eyes.

“Oh, yes. We can schedule FaceTime dates and watch Stranger Things together.”, he smiled and nodded softly, leaning down to give your lips another peck. Just as he pulled away, your phone vibrated in your pocket, signalling that your flight would begin boarding soon. A lump formed in your throat. This was now it. This was goodbye. Overwhelmed, you couldn't hold back your emotions any longer. They had been building up inside of you for the better part of the last 24 hours and you just couldn’t hold it in anymore. Your body shook violently with sobs and Joe pulled you into his chest, swaying you gently. Kissing your forehead, he whispered that everything’s going to be OK. You nodded stiffly against his pecs trying to regain composure. Giving yourself a couple of moments to even out your erratic breathing, you swallowed hard.

“I have to go now.”, you croaked out and Joe nodded against your hair. He cupped your face for one final time, placing the sweetest, most emotionally charged kiss on your lips, which you returned with equal fervour.

Pulling back, he kissed the side of your mouth, your cheek, and finally your temple before grudgingly letting go of you completely, leading you to the end of the queue. He stood beside you until your boarding card was checked and you were guided through the gate to join another queue for the security check. He gave you one final peck, and then you were out of his reach.

Joe had moved to a corner where he could still see you slowly advancing towards the luggage and body scanners. He was rubbing at his face, wiping away his tears and sniffling loudly, but kept his eyes trained on you and you did the same. With every second step you took, you would turn around and search his face. When it was time to turn the corner, you saw Joe blow you a kiss, which you caught and pressed against your chest. Returning the gesture, you blew a kiss back, and he even made a locking motion over his heart. You snorted softly, a small smile forming on your lips as you shook your head and waved one last time before disappearing behind the wall.

Joe watched you vanish around the corner, your hand still up and waving with that smile on your lips he had grown to adore, his hand still mid-air. He lingered there for about ten minutes before an airport staff member informed him that he couldn't stay in that area and asked him to return to the check-in hall. He apologised profusely and swiftly made his way down the escalator by himself when his phone chimed in his pocket. He took it out and saw a new WhatsApp message from you. You had made it through security and were now on your way to the gate. He smiled down at your message and immediately responded with a string of heart emojis, asking you to keep him updated.

He decided to leave the airport only once your flight had taken off, so he walked over to the waiting area and sat down on one of the seats. Whilst waiting for another update from you, his mind raced. He calculated dates and made mental adjustments, opening his calendar app to confirm his thoughts. Bingo. He was right. He quickly opened his contacts, scrolling through until he found this one particular person he was looking for.

Just as he was about to press the call button you updated him once more that you had boarded the plane which was now taxiing toward the runway and that you already missed him terribly. He replied that he missed you too and wished you the safest flight of all flights that had ever taken place and finished it off with the kissy-face emoji. You quickly sent one back yourself, informing him that you were switching to airplane mode now.

His last reply which read: “OK. Please call me when you’ve landed. You promised.”, showed only one tick, indicating that your phone was now truly in airplane mode. Sighing, Joe closed WhatsApp and returned to his contacts and pressed the call button.

He stood up slowly from the row of seats, making his way toward the exit of the airport and the car park. Joe almost hung up after the fourth ring when suddenly, the person he was looking for, answered the phone.

“Hey, Alex. Are you busy? No?...Good. Uhm, I just checked my calendar and realised I have nothing scheduled after wrapping up my new project…keep it that way.”

THE END

Taglist: @ohmeg @daleyeahson @lma1986 @palomahasenteredthechat @mandyjo8719 @aysheashea @eddiebaemunson @xlilithb @freakymunson @sidthedollface2 @i-wont-run-this-time @plk-18 @miserybeans @kylakins88 @deadspellz @thehillzhaveeyez @kayleeelena97 @foreverjosephquinn @punctualhowell @icallhimjoey @ghostinthebackofyourhead @siriuslysmoking @hollster88 @cancankiki @definitionwanderlust @eriancrow @1paire2vans @theonewiththecrackedmind @fromasgardandback @captainonaboat

crossed out = couldn’t tag

#joseph quinn #Joe Quinn #joseph quinn fanfic #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn fanfiction #Joe Quinn x reader #joe quinn fanfic #joe quinn x y/n #joe quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn x y/n #rpf

123 notes · View notes