Characters:
GN!Reader, Luka
Pairings:
GN!Reader x Luka
Warnings:
Mix martial fighting, mentions of bruising, make outs, hair pulling, lip biting, very little grinding, heavily implied that both parties are aware of the others feelings and return said feelings but never actually asked each other out officially, canon divergence, Luka and reader gently bully each other as a way of flirting, fluff at the end
A/n:
I barely know anything about professional fighting, so there will be inaccuracies. I made the reader more dominant/assertive bc that's what I write for. There's little to no info on Luka so he'll probably be ooc by the time we learn more about him but ehhh.
This fic was inspired by this playlist on YouTube.
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It was Tuesday, which means one thing: sparring with Luka.
Both of you had converted your basement into a gym a few years back, it had cost you a fortune, but you told yourself it was an investment for your career. Couldn't keep your job if your skills weren't sharp, training is important if you want to keep moving up in the ranks which would mean you would get better pay.
The better you were paid, the better you could live without having to stress about money. Maybe if you saved up enough you could eventually set up a retirement fund.
Music played faintly in the background as Luka, your childhood friend, and you were sparring in the ring. Luka had just landed a punch on you, but you could take anything he dished out.
"You punch like a bitch," you dodge Luka's next punch with a teasing smile, leaving his back exposed, and quickly jabbing your fist in-between his shoulder blades and are rewarded with a painful grunt. "You're leaving yourself too open, Lulu."
"Eat shit and die." Luka scoffs in mock annoyance at the nickname, both you knew he adored the name and wore it with pride, he quickly readjusts his stance before swinging again and grazes your left shoulder. "Can't help that I got my new arm, not used to the weight just yet."
"Yeah, yeah, fuck you too." You laugh as you sweep his legs, knocking him on his back due to his new arm throwing off his balance. "One…two…three…you're out!"
You pause to admire the forming bruise on his jaw, eyes trailing down his neck then torso, licking your lips as you make a mental note to give him some ointment and cold packs in a bit.
Luka grunts as you straddle his waist, panting heavily from the fight while trying to reorient himself after the wind was knocked out of him, he swallows heavily as he looks up at you with half lidded eyes.
He can't help but laugh as you lean closer to his face before pulling him into a bruising kiss, the way you bite on his lip makes him shudder in excitement, if this is what happens when he loses a sparring session with you he might have to lose more often.
Both of your bodies flushed together on the mat, your fingers tangled in his pretty red hair as you deepen the kisses in a languid fashion, giggling as his hands grip your hips like a lifeline. Each tug of his hair earned a needy whine that you greedily swallowed up into the messy kisses, lazy rolls of your hips to tease him and are rewarded with desperate keening sounds.
You break away after what seems like forever, panting softly as you admire Luka's dopey lovesick expression, before kissing his forehead gently and miss the way his eyes flutter.
Carefully, you get up and grab the usual post workout supplies: first aid kit, cold packs, medicine, towels and drinks.
"Listen, we'll keep goin in a bit." You lazily sat down beside him, tossing a towel and drink to him before opening the first aid kit. "But first we need to get all this post workout stuff dealt with or neither of us will be fighting this week."
"Fair enough," he snorted before taking some medicine, knowing if he didn't take it now he would hurt worse later. "I'm in you capable hands, darlin."
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Characters:
Diluc Ragnvindr, Gn!Reader, mentions of oth
Pairings:
Gn!Reader/Diluc Ragnvindr, Gn!Reader x Diluc Ragnvindr
Warnings:
Canon divergence, reader has a vision and can heal, very mild talks/descriptions of injuries (this means blood and bruising), light banter, reader's a little bit more blunt in terms of personality, kept reader's home location vague, use of warp points for plot convenience, vague spoilers for his backstory, undressing, nonsexual intimacy, hair washing, hair brushing, literally sharing a bed together, heavily implied that both parties are aware of the other's feelings and are sort of a thing but never put a label on it
A/N:
All of this was inspired by @danijaci lovely art!(tw for blood and injuries)
I also haven't written a fic in at least a year, I hope it's ok. I did this all in one sitting so it's unedited af
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"...seems like I overdid it tonight." Was his immediate thought as he caught his reflection in the mirror near the front door. He looked ghastly if he was being kind, he hadn't realized he'd taken such a beating.
Diluc Ragnvindr liked to believe that he was aware of what his limits were, to know what extent he could push himself, but that would be a horrible lie that he didn't want to acknowledge let alone humor the idea of. He had, once again, bitten off more than he could chew but he also hadn't anticipated the extra abyss mages to be present during his usual patrol.
With a heavy sigh he leaves the winery silently, he doesn't need to cause a fuss this late at night, and muscle memory takes over as he uses the warp point to go to the one near your home.
He isn't surprised that he saw you waiting there for him, yet his heart flutters at the idea of you staying up and waiting for him to possibly show up, and doesn't even have a chance to speak as you lead him inside your home. Despite the look of annoyance you had, your touch was gentle as ever when it came to handling him.
A house he's become very familiar with over the years, he notices subtle changes with decor as you lead him into your dining area, and sighs softly as you usher him to sit down.
"C'mon, outta your clothes so I can assess the damage." You click your tongue as you help him out of his clothes until he's in his underwear, this was just the norm for you both at this point. "You look like shit, Luc."
"Feel like it," he gave a small laugh as you began wiping the dried blood off his skin with a warm washrag, wincing whenever you pressed a little bit too firmly on a bruise. "So, how much do I owe you this time?"
"Hold still, I have to place my hand over that bruised eye of yours to heal it since it's a deep bruise." You roll your eyes as you use your vision, ignoring his question, slowly watching his wounds mend themselves over the course of several minutes. "It'll take a while to do, so get comfortable."
"Alright, I know I'm in good hands." He leaned back in the chair, eyes closed as he took a moment as exhaustion seemed to seep into his bones. "Let me know when you're done."
Diluc's mind began thinking about how this partnership has been going on for a little over four years now, how if fate hadn't been so cruel that your lives wouldn't have been so deeply interwoven together. The idea of not having you in his life made him feel hollow, just like that day where everything went wrong, and he quickly dismissed such thoughts.
He thought about all the times he came to you after being seriously injured, at first it was because you didn't ask questions but over time a friendship bloomed and so on, and every time you'd handle him with care.
You weren't starstruck like most people were when you learned who he was, you just treated him like anyone else and he hadn't realized that that was something he needed. While your words were rather blunt and at times a bit cutting, it was always what he needed to hear when he wasn't sure what to do during those four years away from home.
It's the feeling of your lips pressed against his hairline that pulls him out of his deep thoughts, a lazy smile curls on his lips as you usher him into the bathroom and help him wash his hair before leaving him to wash up while you fetch some clothes for him.
Diluc sits between your legs on the floor as you carefully brush his hair, dressed in a loose shirt and pants, humming softly in content as he enjoys the sensation. Once you finish brushing out his hair he styles it into a loose braid to minimize tangling, getting into bed with you like he's done for 3 years now.
Tired murmurs of goodnights are exchanged as exhaustion takes over, both of you cuddled up under the blankets.
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