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#I’m trying to smile in pictures more often
ginnsbaker · 2 days
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fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (8/?)
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Part summary: Leigh heads off to Palm Springs with Danny, while you grapple with what to do about your feelings for her.
Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader, temporary Leigh x Danny | Word count for this part: 5.000+ | Warnings : Slight angst | Author's Note: No, I did not forget about Danny still not being honest with Leigh and R not tattling on Danny. Just let these loose ends dangle for a while. Anyway, enjoy! :)
Masterlist | Part I Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII
-
The morning after you gave Leigh a puppy for her birthday, your phone is flooded with texts from her, filled with questions ranging from vaccine schedules to the best chew toys. She shares a story about how Rogue, their previous dog, had always been Matt’s, and how she often felt left out of his care. Now, with Logan, she feels a full sense of ownership and is eager to get everything right.
You still flinch slightly whenever she mentions her late husband. It’s as if she forgets that you and Matt had something significant too, as if you weren't once the secret he kept close. Sometimes, you wish you could just erase his presence, simplify everything about your relationship with Leigh. 
But you recognize that it’s selfish to wish him away, because Matt was a significant part of Leigh’s life, a major influence on who she has become. And who she is today is a lovely person—someone you've come to admire very deeply.
[6:20 AM] Leigh: Logan’s an angel, slept through the night.
[6:35 AM] Leigh: So, house training... how do I make sure Logan doesn’t turn my bed into his personal bathroom like he did five seconds ago?
You grimace at the message, picturing the hassle of laundering the sheets and possibly needing to call a cleaning service for the mattress.
[6:54 AM] Leigh: And shots? Rogue was all up to date because Matt was on it, but I’m clueless. Where do I start?
As you work your espresso machine, a grin spreads across your face, the kind that makes you feel like a complete fool but in the best possible way.
[6:56 AM] You: Good morning! You’re lucky I don’t bill for text consultations 😆
You typically charge $18 for a twenty-minute chat with a client.
[6:58 AM] Leigh: Oh. How much do I owe you? I want to pay.
Your smile falters a little at her missing your joke.
[6:58 AM] You: I was just kidding. Your texts are more than welcome, Leigh.
Feeling bold, you follow that up with something you've been wanting to make clear since last night.
[6:59 AM] You: This is what friends are for, right?
Waiting for Leigh’s reply feels like an eternity, and you're about to send another text to walk back your hint at friendship when your phone vibrates.
[7:00 AM] Leigh: I’d feel better paying. Can I drop by the clinic later?
Reading her message, you're hit with a rush—excited at the thought of seeing her, yet downhearted she's talking about paying, as if that's what's between you. But then, those little typing dots appear. You're practically holding your breath.
[7:00 AM] Leigh: We’re friends, which is why I’m paying.
It's a good thing you don't have a roommate, or else you'd never get away with grinning like an idiot at your phone. It's a bit ridiculous, you think, how high school this all feels—waiting for a glimpse, a moment, anything.
[7:01 AM] You: Absolutely, come by anytime. Looking forward to it 🙂
You hit send and lean back, trying to act like you didn't just have a mini celebration over a text. 
And then, spurred by Leigh texting you first thing in the morning, you decide to add her on your social media accounts. You spend an extra fifteen minutes getting ready that morning, simply because you lingered longer in the shower, listening to songs that remind you of Leigh and how this crush is dangerously close to becoming something uncontainable.
-
[10:13 AM] Notification: Leigh accepted your friend request.
-
As it turns out, Leigh is a serial texter. 
It’s odd, really. For someone who might come across as reclusive and somewhat untouchable, she is surprisingly talkative over text. The messages start coming in more frequently after this morning's exchange, just moments after you've finally left home to drive to your clinic. What's even more interesting is that this time, they're not about Logan.
And they’re all unusually random and unrelated to one another: memes that make you laugh out loud, articles on topics ranging from the philosophical implications of artificial intelligence to the best way to juicing recipes. You find yourself waiting for these messages, eager to see what tangent Leigh's mind has wandered off to now. You get into it, dissecting the articles she sends over with the seriousness of a scholar. You type back your thoughts, trying to sound as insightful as possible, maybe even a bit witty, hoping to impress her. You imagine this might be her way of initiating deeper, intellectual conversations between you two.
So, when you send back a paragraph or two analyzing the latest article she's shared, maybe touching on its impacts on modern society or offering a counterpoint to the author's thesis, Leigh's responses aren’t what you expect. Instead of engaging with the discussion, she sends a  simple thumbs-up emoji or, even more baffling, a random factoid about her day, like her opinion on the Kani salad from a sushi bar near the Beautiful Beast gym.
[12:15 PM] Leigh: [sent a photo] Just some store-bought crab sticks and diluted mayo. Don’t try it. Their saké though is 👌👌👌
You wonder why she’s having Japanese rice wine this early in the day.
[12:22 PM] You: Thanks for the heads up. I know a place for authentic Japanese food. You want to check it out with me some time?
Your text remains unseen for the rest of the afternoon.
-
You find yourself staring intently at the wall clock in your clinic, keenly aware of each minute slipping by, and with it, the dwindling chance of Leigh arriving before the doors lock for the day. As it nears 8 in the evening, Suzie is already wrapped up in her end-of-day tasks across the lobby. Leaning your cheek on your palm, you watch blankly as she meticulously arranges her desk, perfectly aligning each item, then moves on to gently pull the blinds closed on each window.
Suzie’s not blind. She throws you these knowing glances every time you let out one of your heavy sighs. Finally, after you've probably sighed loud enough to be heard next door, she stops what she's doing and plants herself in front of you.
“What’s going on?” she asks.
You try to look puzzled. “Nothing. Why?”
Suzie rolls her eyes. “Please, you’ve been mooning over that clock and sighing like you’re carrying the world on your shoulders. What’s up?”
You crack a smile, partly at her description, partly from being caught moping like a lovesick teenager. “It’s just… I thought maybe Leigh would come by. She said she would,” you say, wincing at yourself when the last part comes out a bit whiny. 
Without missing a beat, Suzie pivots from her closing duties and makes her way over to you. 
She’s not delicate with you this time. “You’re doing that thing again. Waiting around for something that’s probably not gonna happen. It’s not doing you any good.”
You know she's hitting the nail on the head, but it's tough to swallow.
Suzie continues, “You're young, you're attractive, and it's honestly weird that you're pining over your ex's ex. At first, I thought it was kind of adorable, in a bizarre, romantic-comedy kind of way. But now, it's like you're always hung up and disappointed.”
“Thanks for saying I’m young when I’m five years older than you,” you say with a sheepish smile, hiding your disappointment that she isn’t saying the things you want to hear, such as the possibility that Leigh just got busy.
Suzie shakes her head in disapproval. She's fed up, and her next words aren't going to be sugar-coated. “Snap out of it!” she barks, the command hitting you like a cold splash of water, and you jerk back in your chair, wide-eyed. Seeing you shrink back, quivering, she softens a bit and shifts back to the harmless receptionist you’re used to.
“Look at me, Y/N,” Suzie says, ensuring she has your full attention. You manage to meet her gaze, even though your eyelids feel heavy. “It's not fair to Leigh, either. You're giving meaning to everything she does—or doesn't do. It's putting her in an impossible situation. And honestly, it's not fair to you. You're missing out on your own life, waiting for someone who... well, who might never show up the way you want her to.”
Suzie knows she’s being tough, but sometimes love means being the friend who won’t let you settle for anything less than you deserve.
“I hear you, okay? It’s just… it’s the way I’m wired. I latch onto a person like a leech, refusing to let go until I see it through,” you mutter, shielding your face with your hands, a bit ashamed to even say it out loud. You get so tunnel-visioned, missing out on maybe better things and experiences because you're stuck on one track. You fall hard for your choices, never by chance.
“Good. You know what’s wrong with you,” Suzie says softly. 
You let out a weak chuckle, the sound tinged with a bit of self-mockery. You're half-hidden behind your hands, peeking out at Suzie as if she's got all the answers. Suzie pries your fingers away from your face and then pinches your cheek so hard, you start to whine a bit.
“Ow! What was that for?” you protest, rubbing your assaulted cheek.
“That's for being a pathetic little bitch.”
“Excuse me, I'm still the one signing your paychecks,” you shoot back, trying to sound offended but it’s hard to keep a straight face.
“Sure thing, boss,” she laughs, and you join in. 
“Okay, so what do you suggest I do then?” you ask as the last of your chuckles die down.
“Go on a date,” comes her swift response. “All that stuff they say about love finding you when you're not looking? Biggest lie ever.”
You look at her curiously, assessing her physical features. “W-With you?”
“Dude, no! Not with me!” Suzie exclaims, laughing nervously. “I mean, sure, I'd take you out if you weren't my boss, but I don't see that happening anytime soon unless you fire me.”
“Got it, got it,” you say, still chuckling. Suzie realizes too late that you were just teasing her and huffs. “Not with you. But seriously, go on a date? Just like that?”
“Yeah. Just meet someone.”
“You make it sound like it’s easy.”
“Because it is,” she says with a shrug. “Here. Give me your phone.”
-
Leigh doesn’t know what to do with the fact that you may or may not have feelings for her. 
So, she does what she does best: Pretend.
Leigh pretends you’re not EspressoEyes. In her mind, it could just be a coincidence, and you might not be the person who wrote to her advice column. Without any concrete evidence, she holds onto this notion, using it as a shield to fend off the uncertainties and doubts that would follow if she believed otherwise.
Leigh pretends because she needs your help to figure out how to care for Logan. Because maybe she wants to be friends. When you join her for a run, you don’t press for conversation, a rare companion who's not afraid of silence. Having you around feels like having Matt around, in a way that she's reminded of him when you talk about the same things you like, the same books you've read, and the same music you listen to. 
Leigh pretends it doesn’t bother her in case you are EspressoEyes. She’s no stranger to turning heads as she walks down the street, accustomed to the attention. There's a certain power in being desired, and Leigh revels in it. But the idea of you liking her doesn't quite make sense to her; it's like trying to fit a square peg into a round hole. It’s not because you’re a woman—she’s been with women before. What Leigh can't wrap her head around is that you, of all people, could actually be into her. After all, she hasn’t exactly been her most charming self since you two met. Even her best friend is keeping a cautious distance. She’s been wearing down the people closest to her, those who are supposed to like her the most.
And this bewilderment doesn't sit well with Leigh. She is someone who thrives on understanding, on knowing where she stands with people and why. So, when pretending isn’t enough, she does what she does second-best: Avoid.
She must have been waiting in her car outside your clinic for the better part of the evening, debating with herself about what to do next. She's parked just out of view, positioned so she can see the clinic entrance without being too conspicuous. She hasn't eaten dinner yet, her stomach growling, but she remains glued to her spot across from where she knows you're waiting for her.
Ever since you subtly asked her out through text, she’s been on edge, second-guessing her actions (texting and sharing posts on the internet with you all morning, what was she thinking?) and wondering what they might have meant to you. Leigh didn’t mean to leave you hanging—she did come to your clinic, sort of. She remembers typing out a response to you, something witty and non-committal, but her finger hovered over the ‘send’ button before pulling back. It felt like too much, too soon. She needed time to think, to figure out why the idea of checking out authentic Japanese food with you left her feeling so conflicted inside.
Leigh's guilt gnaws at her as she sits there, wrestling with how to extricate herself without causing further confusion—or worse, hurt. Eventually, it all comes to a head. She finally gives in, typing out a message to you on her phone with a shaky urgency.
[7:53 PM] Leigh: I'm so sorry, something came up. I can't make it to the clinic after all.
Your reply comes quickly, much to her astonishment, especially since she hadn't opened your message all afternoon.
[7:54 PM] You: It's fine, don't worry about it. I can have Logan's supplies delivered to your place if that works better for you.
Reading your text, Leigh bites her lip, another surge of guilt washing over her. Your kindness, your willingness to accommodate her, only complicates this predicament further.
[7:54 PM] Leigh: Yes, that would be great, thank you.
[7:54 PM] Leigh: How much do I owe you?
As she starts nibbling at her cuticle, Leigh is eager to resolve at least the financial aspect of her obligation. Though she knows she owes you so much more than just Logan’s supplies.
[7:56 PM] You: Like I said, it's on the house. But just this time ☺️
It’s still too generous. But Leigh knows better than to argue further, concerned that insisting might hurt your feelings.
[7:56 PM] Leigh: Thank you. I won’t forget this.
[7:57 PM] You: 😊😊😊
Leigh sighs, remembering her promise that you could visit Logan anytime. She hopes you won’t take her up on that offer too soon, at least not until she has a chance to sort herself out.
-
Danny isn’t too bad once you get to know him. That's what Leigh learns after more than two months of dating him. 
Initially, Leigh wasn't sure what to make of Danny. Their shared wit and sarcasm often put them at odds, like two alphas vying for the upper hand, each one not willing to back down, always aiming for the last word. Yet, in their calmer moments, when the competitive edge fades and they're just enjoying each other's company, Leigh finds something unexpectedly comforting about being with him. He has this confidence about himself that Matt never had, knowing exactly what he wants—and that's her. His straightforward approach makes everything about being with him feel predictable. And lately, she's starting to see predictability as a good thing, a sign of stability. This is a welcome change from the uncertainty that often left her anxious about the future. Plus, all these traits spill over into the bedroom, making the sex between them feel effortless and satisfying in a way she’s never experienced before.
Despite all this, there are days when Leigh finds herself merely tolerating Danny's affections. A part of her remains tightly locked, still bruised from losing Matt, and she's not sure if those doors should—or even can—open again. To compensate, she often says yes when she can, whenever her mood permits her to be giving and amenable.
And it is exactly why she says yes when Danny asks her to go to Palm Springs with him this weekend. 
-
The getaway feels like an extended lazy morning where the concept of time blurs into insignificance. They drift from one hotel restaurant to another, luxuriating in the art of doing absolutely nothing. This routine isn't new to them; it’s the same one they slip into whether they’re at Danny’s apartment or Leigh’s place—only now, the scenery is different, and the sheets they tangle in are expensively soft, boasting a thread count far beyond anything either of them owns at home. 
They're lounging by the pool, sipping Margaritas—Leigh with a book in hand and Danny absorbed in his phone—when your name comes up in conversation.
“So, how are things between you and Y/N?” Danny asks, not looking up from his phone.
Leigh stiffens slightly. She carefully moderates her tone, her face schooled into an expression of indifference as she marks her page and looks over at him. “What about me and Y/N?”
“I don't know... are you guys friends now?”
If Leigh weren’t so preoccupied with her own personal concerns about you, she might have recognized the underlying worry his question poses. What he's actually trying to figure out is whether you've come clean to Leigh about his role in Matt’s secret affair with you.
“Yeah, I guess we are,” she says. To say otherwise would be a lie, because you’ve been nothing but good to her. Danny seems satisfied with this answer, nodding before returning his attention to his phone.
“Why do you ask?”
“Just wondering,” he mumbles. He's back to mindless scrolling, but Leigh can sense the tension from two feet away. 
“No, tell me,” Leigh insists, placing her book on the side table between them with a definitive thud. Danny mirrors her actions, setting his phone face down and turning to her with a seriousness that clashes with their otherwise relaxed afternoon.
“I just don't get why you'd be friends with Matt's mistress,” he blurts out suddenly. 
Leigh is taken aback. They've never fully discussed what transpired between you and Matt, so she hadn't realized he was paying such close attention to her interactions with you. Believing that he wasn't privy to all the details, she quickly jumps to your defense.
“Y/N didn’t even know Matt was married to me,” she explains, trying to clarify the misunderstanding and protect your integrity.
“Yeah? And you just took her word for it?” Danny doesn’t bother to hide his skepticism, and it irks Leigh more than usual. She doesn't understand why every conversation with Danny has to turn into a challenge or an argument.
“There’s no evidence to suggest otherwise,” Leigh replies, her voice tightening as she struggles to keep her frustration in check. “I mean, I even went through your phone to see what Matt had been saying to you, and there was nothing there indicating that Y/N knew he was married.”
Danny feels a lump form in his throat. Fortunately for him, Matt hadn't mentioned anything in their texts about Danny being Nick either. He has been debating whether to disclose his role in everything to Leigh. But things between them have gotten serious, and Danny's not so sure he should come clean. Part of him wants to delay—perhaps until they are married with kids, when he's more certain that Leigh won't leave him over a past mistake.
“Look, I'm not saying don’t trust her, but... she used to be in love with Matt, right? You don't think there's a chance she resents you even a little?” 
Leigh stops for a second, Danny's words prompting her to consider aspects she hadn't really thought about before. Wrapped up in her own insecurities, jealousy, and pain when she discovered the truth about you, she had never stopped to consider your perspective—how you might have felt learning that the man you had feelings for was married. Did you feel just as fooled and stung as she did? The thought bounces around her head for a moment. From what she can recall, nothing in your behavior has ever suggested that you're a bitter ex. But then, what if you're just exceptionally good at masking your feelings?
Do you really like her, or is it all an act—a scheme?
But then, she remembers the night you gave her Logan, how your smile was nothing but warm, your eyes bright with something that, looking back, Leigh realizes might have been admiration. Not even Danny looks at her like that, whose gaze is always bridling yearning and a desire to possess. Leigh shakes her head, almost laughing at the thought of Danny being right about you.
“Danny, honestly,” Leigh finally says, trying to put an end to the discussion, “if what you're saying is true, I can handle it myself.” It seems the quickest way to close this topic, knowing that debating it could easily consume their entire afternoon and completely derail the purpose of their vacation.
“But doesn't it hurt, having her around? Like a reminder that Matt went for someone else?” He's playing on a different fear now, not questioning your integrity, but poking at the scars Leigh's tried so hard to heal. 
Leigh wants to admit the pain never went away. She’s merely learned to co-exist with it. It's like the weather for her: on some days, her mind is a landscape of clear skies, but when the storm hits, it's relentless. For now, she chooses to keep this pain private, unwilling to give anyone the leverage to use it against her or even attempt to fix her. It's her burden to bear, and hers alone.
“No,” Leigh answers, reaching for her book again. “I don’t see it that way anymore.”
Leigh ends her nearly year-long social media hiatus by posting a series of photos from her Palm Springs vacation with Danny. Sharing such personal moments publicly is uncharacteristic for her, especially given her minimal online presence over the past months. Maybe it felt like sending a message to everyone that she’s doing okay. That they can go back to seeing her as just Leigh again—a single, actively dating woman in her early thirties—not as the young widow she was in her late twenties.
Danny's friends are the first to swarm the comments. They tag Danny, peppering the feed with teasing remarks, their comments ranging from jokes about the desert heat to compliments on the couple's sun-drenched physique. It's all typical, light-hearted friend banter, until one comment sharply disrupts the mood: 
“Yo, isn't that your brother's wife?”
Leigh deletes the comment within seconds of seeing it.
A few hours later, you ‘like’ her post. Leigh's eyes fix unblinkingly on the notification. She's been idly wondering if you'd seen the post, and now, you’ve confirmed it yourself. But what does that ‘like’ mean?
Is it a nod of approval, a silent indication that you're happy for her? Regardless of what it means, Leigh discovers she was sending another message—one that’s exclusively for you. It tells you that whether you're EspressoEyes, whether you harbor any feelings for her or not, it no longer matters.
She's with Danny now.
-
Returning from Palm Springs, Leigh feels different—like she’s turned a corner or something. She feels refreshed, and she wants to take on something, such as Drew’s grievances about her advice column. She picks one to start with, something about anniversary ideas, and she's got the perfect story for this.
It was one of those anniversaries with Matt, the kind that stands out from the rest of his surprises because it's so quintessentially him—albeit a little nerdy. He took her away from the city's glare to a secluded spot where the sky was a blanket of stars, untainted by artificial light. After laying out a rug for them to both settle on, he began the painstaking process of setting up a rather complex telescope. It took him nearly an hour, but the wait just made the moment even more special. With the telescope finally ready, Matt pulled out this old, crinkly constellation map and started hunting for one specific star. It was one of the last times Leigh remembered them being truly happy—deeply in love, free from the shadows of Matt’s depression, Leigh’s instinct to fix things, and the small lies that slowly eroded their relationship.
When he finally located it, he excitedly guided her to peer through the telescope. There it is—a tiny speck of light, but it's theirs. Matt turned to her with a bashful smile and revealed that he had 'bought' that star for her.
Leigh shares this story with her reader, emphasizing that it's about understanding what truly moves your partner. For her, it was that star—simple, unexpected, and insanely romantic. She tells her reader to find that one-of-a-kind thing, that personal touch that says “I love you” in a way that can only come from them. Just like Matt did with a star and a starry night.
It's only after she closes her laptop that Leigh realizes tears have been streaming down her face.
-
“We’ve got to stop meeting like this.”
It takes a moment to recognize who you've just bumped into. This encounter isn't as jarring as the last; it’s merely a brush of shoulders as you both maneuver to avoid incoming traffic. That ‘incoming traffic’ turns out to be none other than Leigh Shaw.
She's beaming up at you, and it looks genuine despite the sparse interactions since she last canceled on you. You’re still catching your breath, your heart racing from the speed of your run and something else entirely.
“At least I didn’t make you crash on the pavement this time. I'd say that’s significant progress,” you quip, drawing a soft laugh from Leigh. Last week, you made the firm decision to compartmentalize your feelings for Leigh, resolving to see her strictly as a friend. Yet, when faced with reality, such resolutions seem trivial, particularly when that reality includes Leigh smiling at you with her effortlessly charming grin—a smile that, despite your best efforts, still sends a familiar flutter through your stomach and makes your knees feel like they're made of something much less solid than bone.
“Speaking of progress, Logan’s due for his vaccines this week, right?” You remember the schedule clearly, not just because you’re good with dates, but because Logan has become somewhat of a shared responsibility between the two of you—or at least that’s how you still see it.
“Oh, right. I promise I'll swing by. No bailing this time,” she says, chuckling, but there’s a serious undertone that tells you she’s committed to making good on her word this time.
“You better not,” you tease, “Can’t have Logan missing his shots. He’s still very young, and it’s critical we build up his protection against—”
“I won’t, Doctor,” Leigh cuts in, giving you a playful salute that makes you blush. “So, where are you off to after this? I was actually about to grab some donuts for breakfast—”
Leigh pauses mid-sentence as a woman appears at your side. She’s stunning—slightly taller than Leigh, clad in a sports bra and tight yoga pants, with sneakers on her feet. An absolute goddess; even Leigh can’t resist a quick, appreciative glance.
“Who's this?” the woman asks with a British accent, adding the perfect touch to her 5-foot-7 frame.
“This is Leigh,” you introduce quickly, noting the surprise in Leigh's expression. “Leigh, this is Sara.”
“Lovely to meet you,” Sara says warmly, extending her hand. Leigh shakes it, though her movements are somewhat mechanical. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Oh?” Leigh’s smile is strained. “Nice to meet you, too.”
You quickly steer the topic back to Leigh's breakfast plan, asking where the donut place is. “It's just down that street,” Leigh points vaguely, but then stops short. Almost as an afterthought, she adds, “Actually, I just remembered I've got to pick up something from the laundromat.”
You frown, thrown by her sudden change of tune. “Are you sure? We could grab a bite after the run.”
“No, really, I should get going. Maybe next time!” Leigh replies hastily, already stepping back, her exit swift and decisive. As she hurries away, you're left there, watching her leave, trying to figure out what flipped her mood from happy to wanting to escape so quickly.
“Shall we?” Sara nudges you gently, already jogging in place. 
You give Sara a nod, but as you start running, you can't help but sneak one last look back. Leigh is quick to put distance between herself and the park. With a sigh, you turn your full attention back to Sara, who’s already picking up the pace, chatting about a new trail she wants to try next weekend.
“Let's go,” you mutter, mostly to yourself, as you push your legs to match her pace.
Meanwhile, Leigh walks briskly to a different restaurant, forsaking her initial craving for donuts. She can’t quite explain why she fabricated an errand; all she knows is that she needed to get away from you and Sara. Earlier, she couldn't help but notice how close Sara was standing to you, assessing you with a look that seemed a bit too interested. Leigh keeps turning over Sara's words in her mind, puzzling over what she meant by saying she'd heard a lot about her from you.
Why were you talking about her with Sara? Who exactly is Sara to you? Just a friend, or something more?
And what Leigh finds even more perplexing is why she's so troubled by needing to know the answers.
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closets-closet · 2 days
Note
THIS COULD WORK WITH EITHER PRICE OR GHOST AND I LOVE BOTH SO MUCH SOO U PICK 😖
141 finding out on accident that ghost/price is married?!?! BEEN married. They bug him to introduce them to the missus, and he finally does it so they leave him alone, he takes them to his house made a home by the sweet bundle of light, shes a absolute darling, gorgeous thing. They’re kinda shocked how he pulled that
IM MELTINGGHFBDBSBZK
I LOVE THIS, could you imagine the chaos on base when Johnny or Kyle finds out about this mystery woman. Because we know damn well Simon pulled a drop dead gorgeous wife. Anywhosie here’s my take on this amazing prompt.
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“Simon Pleaseeeee” Johnny trails out his arms dramatically spread out infront of him. It was just recently Price slipped up and revealed to the team that Simon was married and has a Missus at home, and that’s all it took for Johnny and Kyle to lose their minds. “Simon” Kyle dead pans “Why won’t you let us see the lady” Simon huffs, before looking at both of them, frustration bubbling in his chest. “Not happening mate, work and personal life stay separate.” He grumbles one more time before pushing out of his seat, slinging his duffle bag over his shoulder and making his way to the door. “Now if you don’t mind, i’ve got my lady waitin’ for me at home.”
-
“Dove?” You hear your husband call from the front door of your shared home “I’m back” You appear from around the door way to the kitchen, apron tied around your waist and hair up “Welcome home” You smile “I’ve almost finished dinner for you” He walks into the kitchen immediately circling your waist with his hands burring his face in your neck “I’m conflicted” He admits quietly as he takes you in “The boys want to meet you, but I don’t want them to know how lucky i’ve gotten.” You sigh gently hooking your fingers under the black balaclava that covers his face, slowly pulling it off. “It’s your choice, but I don’t mind having them come by, I’ll make them dinner and everything” You hand brushes over his cheek before planing a small kiss across his lips. “Okay then” He whispers leaving into a little bit more “We’ll have them over”
-
“Finally” Johnny cheers excitedly as they walk up the drive to your shared home, a modest one story at the end of a small residential street. “Got you a quaint little place here” Price comments as they stand at the door, the smell of food wafting out from behind it. “Come on in fellas” Simon says as he pushes open the front door.
“Hello everyone” you greet, voice floating towards them. “It’s so nice to finally meet you all, Si happens to talk about you guys a whole bunch.” The smile you gives them melts the boys all to puddles. “Please come in, make yourself at home” you step aside letting them all in.
“Beautiful home you’ve got here ma’am” Kyle says stepping further into the house that’s littered with framed pictures of you and Simon together. “L.T never told me you clean up so well” Johnny teases as he examines a wedding photos that hangs over the kitchen bar. Simon moves to stand behind you, hands resting on your waist gently. Price moves to stand infront of you extending his hand “John Price” He introduces, You meet his hand shaking it firmly “Thank you for keeping him safe” You respond giving him a warm smile that melts him. “How long ye been married” Johnny pipes up from the living room where he’s petting yours and Simon’s cat. “About 3 years” you question out trying to remember exact dates. Simon lets out a long sigh, a symbol this is going to be a long night for him.
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It’s about 23:30 when the boys leave. “That wasn’t so bad” You sigh taking a seat next to Simon on the couch, wine glass pinched between your fingers “They’re good kids” You mention snuggling close to your husband. “They are” He admits looking down at you, the smell of the whisky he’s drinking flooding your nose “Should have em around more often” you say looking to him “They make you smile in a way I don’t see to often” He looks to you smiling gently “I guess they do” He whispers getting closer to you pressing a small kiss to your lips.
I should be his wife *SIGH*
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alittlebitofsainz · 2 days
Text
- told her you were just a friend -
prompt: “told her you were just a friend, told her I was homesick, I hadn’t thought of home twice.”
pairing: lando norris x reader
summary: being away from home for this long should’ve felt more difficult, but somehow, with lando by your side, anywhere feels like home. still, you can’t tell your mum just yet.
a/n: inspired by ‘the band and I’ by maisie peters :)
masterlist | the spotify wrapped collection
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“yes, don’t worry, I’m remembering to drink plenty of water. okay, love you too, speak soon.”
you hung up the call, unaware of a pair of eyes lingering on you from across the room.
“who were you talking to?”
the sound of lando’s voice made you jump, head whipping round to look at him leaning against the door frame with his arms folded across his chest.
“just my mum.” you replied with a small shrug, watching as lando’s features shifted into the slightest expression of concern.
“everything okay?” he asked, and you were touched by the way he cared.
“everything’s fine. she’s just worried about me, I’ve never been away from home for this long.”
lando nodded at that, moving across the room to join you on the sofa of his drivers room. more and more often you found yourself in here to escape everything, get a bit of peace and quiet, or, as it happened today, a private place to take a phone call.
“she asked if I had ‘met any boys’.” you chuckled, gaze following lando across the room, a small smile on your face when you admitted the topic of conversation chosen by your mother.
“and what did you tell her?” lando angled himself towards you, propping an elbow on the back of the sofa. a wry smile danced across his face, and you couldn’t decide whether you wanted to slap it off or kiss it off. he knew the answer already, he was just teasing you by asking. whatever was going on between you and lando, you’d both decided not to tell anyone, not yet, at least. and unfortunately, that included your mum, who was a little prone to gossiping.
“I said no, of course.” you replied with an arched eyebrow.
“and she believed you?” came lando’s reply, a soft laugh escaping his lips, reaching out to take one of your hands in his, absentmindedly playing with your fingers as you continued to talk.
“she did ask about you, specifically. I send her a lot of pictures from the race weekends - you tend to be in most of them.” you admitted, eyeing up lando cautiously, trying to read his reaction.
“and what did you say to that?” he asked, his voice low, questioning, eyes still twinkling with mischief.
“I told her you were just a friend.”
lando chuckled at that, repeating a muttered just a friend under his breath. you couldn’t help but mirror his laugh, shaking your head at the ridiculousness of the statement.
“yeah, I’m not sure whether she believed that one.” you added, with a grin.
“if we were just friends…” lando murmured, leaning over the sofa to hook a finger under your chin, guiding your face up to meet his, “… would I do this?”
he trailed kisses down the side of your face, across your cheek, pressing one to the corner of your mouth before capturing your lips with his. you giggled softly into the kiss, allowing your eyes to close, one hand finding its way up to cup his cheek in your palm. you’d gotten used to this, secret moments behind closed doors. you didn’t mind, for the moment; you knew the pressure that came with being lando’s girlfriend, knew the scrunity you’d be under.
the next time your mum called, you might be more inclined to talk about the boy who’d captured your heart and made your whole life light up. but for now, your relationship belonged to just you, and no one else.
a little part 2 is out now :)
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spacesodaa · 2 days
Note
HIII i don’t do asks often so i have no idea how to do this ☹️ but can i ask for a acheron x reader? i have no idea for a prompt or whatever so i’m fine with anything !! ^^
You and me both, this is my very first ask lol
Acheron x Reader - Mornings With You
Characters: Acheron, Reader
Summary: A morning with Acheron
Warnings: fluff
A/N: this is my first time writing an Acheron fic, hope you like it~
The light coming from the star system penetrated through the small window of the ship. The small ship, shared between Acheron and you, was set to orbit the star in this system placidly until you had decided what to do next.
Compared to the usual, this morning, or rather the morning calculated by the ship system clock, was quiet and peaceful. Only the hum of the engines and the soft tapping of fingers on a screen could be heard.
Acheron laid in bed on her back, with her phone in her hands and you snuggled up to her side with your head on her chest. You were clutching at her sleeping shirt quite contently, sighing from time to time with a small smile on your lips. The galaxy ranger - or the emanator of nihility, as you had known for some time - kept flicking her eyes between you and the phone, typing short bursts of text.
She was trying to keep a diary of sorts, under your suggestion, and to her surprise she had lost count of how many times she had mentioned you pretty early on. Each and every stream of thought lead back to you, often accompanied by pictures of you she had taken. She had started taking those pictures of you in different candid moments to prove to you that you were, in fact, beautiful in every moment. Even when you were wheezing in laughter, or deep in thought, or intently watching the people around you.
People watching was another passion of yours, given your nosy streak. You were incredibly curious about pretty much anything, especially how the world around you worked. You had even asked what an emanator does at some point, but unfortunately for you, Acheron didn't have a straight answer for you.
The woman gazed at you once again and in a split second decision, took a selfie of you in her arms. She quickly pasted it in the entry she was writing before pressing a light kiss on your head.
Had you told her she would be taking a selfie - a. selfie. - she would have looked at you like you had three heads.
It had been a long long time since she had felt the warmth in her chest. So long that she used to think she could never feel it again. But then you had come in her life, a chance meeting in Penacony, and absolutely buldozed the walls she had painstakingly built in her years of solitude with your sunny disposition. She had shut everything out as to not lose anything more than she already had. Acheron had lost her former lover, her world, her family. Now that she had you she was deathly afraid that you would leave her memories and her sun would disappear once again.
A grumble pulled the ranger out of her thoughts. Your hold on her tightened slightly as you yawned and further nuzzled your face in her chest.
"Baby" you muttered against her shirt.
"Yes?" Acheron replied, putting away her phone to give you her full attention. She smoothed your hair with her hand and gently carressed your head trying to coax further details.
"'m hungry" you elaborated, scrunching your face up.
"What would you like me to cook?" The woman began to shift in order to get up from your shared cot, but you whined in protest so she gave up for the moment.
"Nooo stay with me!"
"My love, I can't help you if I don't get up" Acheron said softly. You whined once again "Do you want to come with me? You can hold onto me while we prepare breakfast" that proposal seemed to appease you.
You clung onto your girlfriend as she carried you into her back with little effort. Acheron headed to the small kitchen on the ship, where she opened the fridge to check what you had available to eat.
"Waffles?" She asked. She might have not been able to remember all of your favorite things, but she sure as hell had a list on her phone. It was one of the pages of her diary and it held all your likes and dislikes so she could check it whenever her memory was screwing her over.
"Yes!" You perked up at the idea, mouth watering at the thought.
Recieving the confirmation, your girlfriend pulled up a recipe on her phone and set to work. With her deft hands it didn't take long to have a small pile of funing hot waffles on the table.
You stayed on her back until it was time to eat, when you reluctantly let go of her to gobble down the delicious breakfast.
You looked at Acheron, beaming. How did you manage to win her over was a mystery to you, you felt incredibly lucky.
"You like them?" She asked, seeing your smile.
"Yeah! But I also like you a lot" you answered cheekily.
Acheron chuckled at your answer, an amused expression adorning her usually calm face.
"So, where do we head next?"
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darkbluekies · 3 months
Text
Make things right? Or make them worse?
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Yandere!doctor (platonic to his children) x twin daughters ocs x female!reader
Summary: Dr Kry’s children finds out their fathers dark secret, and he's determined to silence them.
Warnings: toxic household, yandere, favoritism, guilt, poison, mentions of murder (things along this way)
A/N: I have created my own poison for this story, so I choose the effects. Lol.
Word count: 6.2k
“Bye, dad”, Lydia says and closes the car door.
Her twin follows out of the car, almost hides behind her like a shadow. Lydia frowns confusedly. She’s been more silent than usual this morning. They turn to walk into school.
“Girls”, Dr Kry says through the open car window, catching their attention. “I want you here at three sharp, okay? I’m not in the mood for waiting.”
“Yes, sir”, Lydia answers. 
“Good. Have a good day, girls, I’ll see you later.”
With that said, he drives off. Lydia turns to Nadia who finally raises her gaze from her feet. 
“What’s wrong?” Lydia asks and fixes her backpack. “You’ve been acting off all morning.”
“I have to talk to you about something”, Nadia says hesitantly and looks at her with uneasy eyes. 
Lydia blinked and frowned. “What?”
“I was meaning to talk to you earlier, but I didn’t want to do it when dad was around.” Nadia glanced at the other students swarming around the school grounds. “It’s about mom … and her sickness.”
For as long as they can remember, their mother has been bound to her bed by a rare disease. Thankfully, their father is a remarkable doctor and has been caring for her ever since the twins' birth. He works at a hospital in the city and travels forty minutes back and forth every day, dropping the twins off at school on the way there, and picking them up on the wayback. When they were young, they were put in a private school carefully chosen by their father — who has been very active in the administration.
Their father is a complex person. Although they’ve been by him their entire life, they still feel like they don’t know him. He rarely talks about himself, and seem to have a human side for their mother only. Very rarely, there’s a soft side for the girls … often they’re met by a doctor, rather than a parent. Despite that, Lydia has always been a daddy’s girl, while Nadia has clung to their mom for love and comfort. 
“What about it?” Lydia asks carefully. 
“I heard something …”, Nadia starts and licks her lips nervously. “I heard these noises, from mom and dad’s room-”
“Don’t tell me you heard them have sex”, Lydia grimaces. 
“No …” Nadia shakes her head, eyes shaking. “They were talking. Mom was crying and daad was standing by the bed, holding her cheeks in his hands like this …” She cups her sisters cheeks in demonstration, “...while saying: ‘you’re never going back there, I’ll never share you like that again’.” She shivers. “I-I don’t know what that was, but it made me feel really weird.”
Lydia frowns, trying to picture the scene in front of her. 
“Are you sure that it wasn’t just dad’s weird love language?” she asks carefully. 
“I don’t know”, Nadia sighs defeatedly. “Mom seemed … scared. She looked up at him with eyes full of terror. She could have had a nightmare or something, but dad’s voice- … it was awful. I don’t know how to describe it, but it sounded extremely dark.”
“We could try to ask her.”
“What if dad hears?”
“I could distract him while you ask, if that helps you ease your worry.”
Nadia smiles gratefully. “Thank you, Lyd.”
Lydia gives her an unsure smile and grabs her hand and they walk into school. 
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Like Dr Kry had asked them to, they stand by the gates at three sharp. His white car rolls over and the two of them jumps in, Lydia in the front seat and Nadia in the backseat.
“How has your day been?” he asks and drives off. 
He always asks about their classes, teachers and friends. If there’s a small detail he doesn’t like, he makes sure to contact the school and let them know his thoughts. More than one friendship has ended thanks to his overprotectiveness and the twins has learned to dilute the truth enough for him to be able to swallow it. So once again, they answer in the way he wants to hear it. 
The car drives from the city, gets off the highway and enters a countryside road. The dirt road is divided in the middle with grass, creating enough space for the wheels of his white car to roll forward. Here, nothing can be heard except the sounds of distant birds. Their white, edwardian villa is surrounded by a deep, dark forest, close to a gigantic sparkly lake with the closest neighbor being a kilometer away. Despite the isolating upbringing the twins have had, getting away from the noisy, stressful city to the empty forest always cleanse their brains. 
The white, Scandinavian, edwardian aged, wooden villa appears behind the trees like a castle. The house has two floors with a green atticroof, and a bushy, blooming garden in the same color, two glass verandahs on either side of the house and a white fence around the garden.
The twins get out of the car. Nadia gives her a look and Lydia nods. 
“Dad”, she says. “I’ve been feeling a bit weird these last days … I think I’m going to be sick.”
“Really?” Dr Kry asks and frowns. He closes the trunk of the car. “Who have you been around? Are any of the other students sick?”
“A few.”
“Nadia, are you feeling bad too?”
“No”, Nadia replies.
“Could you please give me a check up?” Lydia asks. 
“Alright, come with me”, Dr Kry says and nods at her to follow him. 
While they walk inside, their father and Lydia walks to the living room and Nadia sneaks off upstairs. She moves carefully to their parents’ room and knock gently on the door before entering. Their mother, you, is lying in bed with a book in her hand. You look as weak as ever. Nadia shivers. 
“Hi, sweetheart”, you smile and puts down your book on your chest. “Did you have a good day in school?”
“Yes …”, Nadia mumbles and sits down on the side of the bed, unsure on how to start this absurd conversation. 
“What’s wrong, Nadia?”
“What happened yesterday? WIth you and dad?”
You flinch. Your smile disappears for a moment for it to appear quickly again, but this time in a fake manner. 
“Why did he say that?” Nadia asks carefully. “Why did he say that he wasn’t going to share you again?”
“O-Oh, that …”, you mumble with an embarrassed smile. “It was nothing, don’t worry about it. It was just some adult stuff that me and your dad were talking about.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, honey. Why? Did it make you worry?”
Nadia nods slightly. Y/N gives her a smile and takes her hand. 
“It’s okay, sweetheart, there’s nothing to be afraid of”, you reassure Nadia. “Whatever happens between me and your dad is nothing you have to be afraid of. We will always put you and your sister first, okay? There’s nothing you have to be worried about. I love you, darling.”
“I love you too, mom …”
You hug her, and Nadia hugs back, but she can’t help but feel that her heart sinks. Something isn’t right. 
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The very next day when they’re left off at school, Nadia grabs Lydia’s arm. 
“Let’s go to the hospital”, she says the second their father’s car disappears behind the corner. She holds up a metallic key. “I have the key to mom’s old room.”
“What?” Lydia asks in confusion. “Why?”
“I have a feeling that mom isn’t really sick and I have to take a look around in her old hospital room. Something isn’t right!” She clears her throat and lowers her voice. “Mom and dad met at the hospital and that he was her doctor, that much we know, right?”
Lydia nods, trying to follow along. 
“Isn’t it weird that a doctor as professional as our dad decided to start a relationship with a patient like that?” Nadia asks, sounding unsure. “And wouldn’t he have done everything he could to make mom feel better? Shouldn’t she be better now? I just … I want to know if he has done something.”
“Do you really think he has?”
“I don’t know. I really don’t know. But something isn’t right, and I feel that. Mom seemed to be put on the spot when I asked her about the interaction I had overheard. She seemed scared.” Nadia grabbed her hand in hers. “Please, Lyd, can we go there and just take a look?”
Lydia hesitates and glances at the private school behind them, contemplating the consequences. 
“Please”, Nadia repeats. “If mom is getting hurt, I want to help her.”
“Okay”, Lydia nods. 
With that said, they hurry past the school gates before a teacher has the time to catch them. They take the first bus to the state hospital their father works at and hope that he’s with a patient while they sneak around. 
They hurry inside the hospital and keep their heads down to make sure that none of the working receptionists would recognise them and report to their father right away. They stay silent until they get into the elevator. 
Once out, they sneak over to the door. Lydia stands guard as Nadia presses the key into its lock. The click from the key opening echoes in the empty corridor. Nadia’s hand hovers above the door handle. Her heart twirls around uncomfortably. In a moment, she will be in the room where their parents met, where something happened that made their dad take the decision of stepping over the professional line. If that was good or bad is yet to be known, but she can’t help but feel worried. 
The room is empty, in more than one way. The spirits of old memories haunt the room and they leave a sour taste in the twins’ mouths. Lydia looks towards the bed. Their mother has been lying here for months with a sickness that has kept her bed bound for years. But what happened while she was here?
“What are we looking for?” Lydia wonders. 
“Anything”, Nadia shrugs and looks around. “Whatever that can help us is fine. Journals, reports, notes — anything.”
They start to rummage through drawers, in binders and notepads. Lydia finds herself holding a yellow paper binder with their mother’s name written on it, in their father’s handwriting. 
“Nad, look at this”, Lydia says and holds up the binder. 
They put the binder on the desk and start to pull out papers. Every paper is written from the top to the bottom in ink.
“He has documented her every day …”, Lydia says, perplexed. She shakes her head in denial. “Every single day, every single hour. Obsessively. Look, every little detail is written down. ‘12:35, eaten an apple’, ‘16:52, took a shower’, ‘22:30, called for me on the telephone’. What is this?”
Nadia picks up another paper, a smaller, clearly supposed to be hidden between the other sides. She puts her hand over her mouth as her eyes widens. 
“Oh no”, she gasps and drops the paper. “No, no, no, no …”
Lydia frowns, bends down and picks up the paper. Her heart sinks as she reads the note. It’s a single word, but they’re familiar with it. They’ve found bottles of it in the cellar and the attic multiple times, and when they asked Dr Kry about it, he answered that it was a substance to kill vermin.
“He’s poisoning mom”, Nadia whispers in horror and looks at her twin with wide, terrified eyes. 
Lydia feels the air disappear from her lungs. Suddenly, she feels nauseous. She sits down on the rolling stool and tries to control her breathing. Nadia sinks down on the bed with her head in her hands. 
“What the fuck do we do?” Lydia breathes out with her eyes staring dimly in front of her. She has never felt this empty before, this helpless. “What the fuck do we do now, Nadia?”
“W-We have to call the cops”, Nadia gulps. 
“The cops? Nad, he’s our dad!”
“But if he hurts mom …” Her voice dies out. “We can’t let him take more years from her.”
Lydia nods and wipes the few tears that have begun to run down her cheeks. With shaking hands, she unzips her backpack and shoves the binder down. They will need evidence if they have to prove to the cops. 
The door behind them opens. Both girls fly up from their positions and scurry over to each other. Dr Kry walks in and stops abruptly in the door. 
“What are you doing here?” he asks quickly. 
He’s trying to force a smile, but the red eyes of his daughters and the trembling bodies of theirs are all he needs to see, to know that they know. 
“How fucking could you?!” Nadia screams. 
Dr Kry hurries to close the door as she continues to shout through sobs. 
“What’s your deal with mom?!” she screams. “How can you keep her like this?! Where’s your fucking conscience?!”
She thinks that she’s going to explode in pure fear, anger and sorrow. Dr Kry clenches his jaw and sighs heavily. 
“Your mother is a very, very special person”, he says slowly, as if he is talking to a ticking bomb. “It is all a misunderstanding, girls, I will tell you everything at home. Come, we’re going home now.”
“We’re not going anywhere with you”, Nadia spits and stands in front of her frozen sister. 
“You don’t have to be afraid of me.” Dr Kry rolls his eyes when they don’t answer. “You’re my daughters, and you are not yet of age, you have to come with me.”
Nadia wants to refuse again, but she doesn’t want to leave her mother alone with him, not when he knows that they know. 
“Now”, Dr Kry decides. 
Nadia picks up Lydia’s bag and gives it to her sister. It looks like Lydia is going to throw up any second now. Nadia takes her hand and they follow their father out of the room, and out through a back door. For the first time, Lydia sits down in the backseat together with her twin. They hold each others hands tightly and keep silent the entire car ride home. 
“Girls, I never wanted you to see that”, Dr Kry sighs and tries to meet their eyes in the rear view mirror. “I- … It’s hard to explain. Your mother is a very special person who I’m very lucky to have met.”
Lydia squeezes her eyes shut, but she can’t keep him out of her head. 
When they come home, Nadia drags her sister into the house. 
“Girls, don’t go upstairs”, Dr Kry says in that same dark voice Nadia had heard him talk in a few days ago. “I want you to stay down here.”
They halt, suddenly too scared to move. 
“I want you to help me with dinner”, Dr Kry says. “Come on.”
The twins glance at each other. Lydia starts to drag her sister to the kitchen. They help in complete silence. Lydia’s hands are trembling while she cuts cucumber and it slips, cutting a slit in her finger. She yelps and drops the knife. 
“Oh, honey”, Dr Kry breathes out and grabs her hand. “You have to be careful.”
She doesn’t look at him as he washes her hand under the kitchen sink and puts on a bandaid. Her entire body is in fight or flight mode. 
When Dr Kry takes care of the final touches, the twins scurry up to their mother. Your face drops when you see them. 
“Why is he doing this to you?” Nadia asks thickly as she tries not to cry. “We found out.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry, girls”, you say sorrowfully. “I wish that you never had to know.”
“Why do you let it happen?” Lydia asks quietly. 
“I have no choice … I can’t do anything.” You lower your gaze and voice to an ashamed whisper. “I don’t have the energy to run away, and if I managed to, you’d be in danger and I’d be dead. Your father has the only antidote to his self made poison. It’s safer for everyone if I stay here.”
“But mom …”, Nadia whimpers, “... he’s hurting you.”
“I … I know, dear.” 
The door opens behind them. 
“Girls, dinner”, Dr Kry says shortly and nods towards the corridor. “Go downstairs.”
The twins turn to you, wanting you to make their decision. You give them a reassuring smile and they leave. You look at the man who has become your husband, much to your dismay. 
“Why did you let them find out?” you whisper with tears in your eyes. “You promised that they would never know!”
“I didn't think that they would.” He wipes the tears that roll down your cheeks. “I’ll fix this mess. Don’t worry, darling.”
With that said, he tucks you in and leaves to go downstairs. The twins have sat down by the dining table with their blank, staring eyes turned down into the table. Dr Kry sits down and start to eat, without seeming to care at all about the incidents that happened earlier. Nadia stares down into her plate with disgust roaring in her stomach. If she eats, she’s going to throw it all up in a matter of thirty minutes. She closes her eyes and sighs sadly. Lydia tries to eat a bite, forcing it down her throat. 
“Nadia, eat a little”, Dr Kry says. 
“I’m not hungry”, she mumbles. 
“You need to eat a bit. I won’t allow you to leave the table before you have eaten. Look at Lydia, she’s eating.”
Lydia feels her cheeks heat up as the attention turns to her. She’s suddenly embarrassed over obeying. Feeling exposed and naked under Nadia’s look of disbelief, as if she’s just broken a silent pact. But instead of saying anything, Nadia picks up her fork and takes a bite of the white rice. The twins can agree that this might have been the worst dinner they have ever experienced. 
Nadia puts her hand over her heart and clears her throat. There's a heavy feeling over her chest, something almost suffocating. She looks to the side, seeing how Lydia is frowning as well, trying to clear her throat. Nadia think that she looks like she’s going to faint. She wants to ask her how she’s feeling, but doesn’t dare talk in front of their father, afraid to start a conversation. 
After dinner, the twins decide to go upstairs, but their legs suddenly feel weak enough to break apart. 
“What’s going on?” Lydia whispers and grips the staircase railing. 
“I think that he put something in the food”, Nadia whispers back. 
“I feel really sick …”
She falls down on her knees in the middle of the staircase, still holding onto the railing. Nadia hurries to pull her up again and drags her over to her bedroom, lazily tucking her in. 
“Don’t leave me”, Lydia whimpers and grabs her hand before she can leave the room. “Stay … please. Don’t go. I'm scared.”
Nadia agrees, not wanting to leave. She climbs down under the covers of Lydia’s bed. They lay in silence and look up at the tilted, wooden ceiling. For every minute passes by, they’re growing more and more sick. Every muscle in their bodies seem to ache, twist and turn. 
“He’s doing it to us too”, Nadia whispers. 
They hear the lock on the door click and give each other terrified looks. Nadia stumbles out of the bed and feel the handle. She gulps in horror and turns back to the bed. 
“It’s locked!” she says and breathes out in shock. “He actually locked it …”
“Come back …”, Lydia begs and reaches for her. 
Nadia returns to the bed, crawls down under the covers and hugs her. She wraps her arms around her sister and rests Lydia’s head on her shoulder. 
“I’m scared”, Lydia whispers. 
“It’s going to be okay”, Nadia replies, although she doesn’t believe it herself. “We’re going to be okay.”
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Dr Kry removes his tie, about to go to sleep. 
“I can’t believe you …”, you whisper from the bed, with her eyes down at her trembling hands. 
“Darling …”, Dr Kry sighs and turns around. 
You raise your tone, but keep it hushed enough not to exceed the bedroom walls. “You promised that they would never get hurt! You promised that they would never get exposed to this fucking substance!”
“They haven’t … yet.”
“Yet?! Don’t fucking tell me-”
“They figured it out, okay? They heard our conversation and decided to check out the hospital for themselves. I underestimated their intelligence … and their love for you.” He sighs annoyedly. “I’m not going to let their lack of understanding break apart our family — that I have fought so hard for. I put something in their food to keep them still for a while. It’s nothing dangerous, little one. I promise you that.”
“If I knew that you were going to break your promise-”
“I had to.”
He is about to caress your cheek, but hears sounds coming from next door. One of the girls is banging on the locked bedroom door, and calling for him. Dr Kry excuses himself and gets out of the room. He walks over to Lydia’s room, where the noise is coming from. Quickly, he unlocks, finding Nadia leaning on the wall right next to the door. Her eyes are full with tears. 
“What’s going on?” Dr Kry asks. 
“Lydia isn’t waking up!” Nadia cries.
Dr Kry feels his body turn cold. He runs over to the bed where his other daughter is lying on her side, and he soon finds out that Nadia is right — she isn’t waking up. He shakes her, gives her gentle taps on her cheeks and lifts her up. Nothing wakes her. He has to take her to the hospital. 
“Wait, where are you going?!” Nadia screams after him as Dr Kry carries her sister down the stairs. “She doesn’t want to be alone!”
“You have to stay here with mom”, Dr Kry says over his shoulder. “I’m taking care of Lydia.”
He hurries out of the house and quickly places her down in the back seat. Dr Kry’s usual forty minute drive to the hospital took only twenty five minutes this time. He picked her up in her arms and ran inside through the backdoor, and didn’t stop until their reach the room you have spent many, many months in. Dr Kry places his daughter down on the very same bed you have laid in. He placed an oxygen over Lydia’s mouth and nose, turning on the machine. He hasn’t felt this scared in a long time. 
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Finally, after an hour, Lydia opens her eyes with a small moan. Dr Kry hurries over to the bed and removes the mask. 
“How are you feeling?” he asks her and brushes the hair out of her face. 
“I feel really sick”, she whimpers. 
“Do you need to throw up?” 
Lydia nods. Dr Kry picks her up again and moves her into the bathroom where she hovers over the toilet for ten minutes. Dr Kry holds her hair back and grimaces sadly. He does feel bad for putting her through this, but he has to. 
“There you go”, he says and puts her down on the bed again. 
“Why am I here?” Lydia asks weakly.
“You weren’t responding when anyone tried to wake you up. I got worried, so I decided to take you here.”
“Am I going to die?”
Dr Kry scoffs out a smile in a weird sensation of deja-vu. He has heard that question a lot, in the exact same tone and manner, but from the generation before her.  
“You’re not”, he reassures her and strokes her hair. “You know that I would never let anything happen to you.”
“Why am I feeling like this?”
“I put something in your food to make you and Nadia calm down, but you seem to have reacted badly to the substance … weirdly enough. Since you’re identical twins, i thought you’d react the same, but it seems like you are a bit more sensitive than your sister.”
“Nadia ate less than me.”
“Yeah, you might have gotten more substance in your body, which is why you feel worse. It’s going to be okay, I will not let anything happen to you.”
“But you hurt me.”
His smile drops and his hand stops stroking her hair. He knows that Lydia shares half of her mothers genetics, but he didn’t know that she would sound exactly like you. She has never heard you use these phrases, and yet Lydia has chosen the exact same wording that you have tortured Dr Kry with years ago. 
“I didn’t mean for you to end up here”, Dr Kry sighs and continues to stroke her hair. “That was my fault, I admit that. However, I had to keep you and Nadia a bit sedated because of how scared you were.”
“Why did you use so much?” she whimpers. 
“I was a bit shaky myself, I wasn’t meant to hurt you, Lydia.”
Lydia sighs shakily and sinks down in the mattress. She wants nothing more than to go back home, to Nadia, but at the same time she knows that if she goes back home, she will be locked in her room again. Continuing with life now that they know their father’s secret will be difficult. 
“How long do I have to stay here?” she asks quietly. 
“Until you’re feeling better”, Dr Kry replies and stands up. “For now, I think that you need to sleep. It’s late.”
That’s the last thing she wants to do. She has always been Dr Kry’s (not so subtle) favorite, and she has always had a preference for her father … but for the very first time, she’s afraid of him. She can’t trust him anymore, especially about her health. Being unconscious is the last thing she wants to do. 
“I don’t want to”, Lydia says pleadingly. “I’m not tired … please don’t make me sleep, dad.”
Please don’t make me sleep. Your voice echoes in his head, in the exact same tone. Dr Kry knows that he did a million things wrong when he kept you here, and now he has a second chance to fix things. 
“Okay”, he breathes out and sits down on his stool. “You don’t have to sleep, darling.”
Lydia gulps and looks around in the room, trying to imagine how you had felt while being here. She feels a heavy sensation over her chest, like a heavy stone. She couldn’t see the poisoned air purifier that was mentioned in the journal. 
“Did mom lay here?” Lydia whispers. 
“Yes”, he answers quietly. 
“How long?”
Dr Kry looks down at his nails, eyes faltering. “A, uh … very long time. Many, many months.”
She starts to look around again. “Where is the air purifier?”
“It’s not here … it broke, a long time ago. I had to throw it away.”
“Do you still use that kind of thing on mom?”
“No, I don’t. Not often.”
But he has his new way to make sure you stay.
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Nadia runs her hand through her hair. Her poor sister. What should she do? Dr Kry left the rooms unlocked, which means that she can move around. She drags herself into your bedroom. You look at her with wide, nervous eyes. 
“Is she okay?” you ask and take Nadia in your arms. 
“I-I don’t know”, Nadia responds shakily while shaking her head desperately. “She wasn’t waking up and …”
“She’s going to be okay. I know your father can all of those medical stuff … maybe a little too well.” You sigh and caress the seventeen-year old girl’s face. “It’s going to be okay.”
Nadia shakes her head. “No fucking way things are going to be okay! He’s a madman, mom.”
“I … I know.”
“We can’t stay here.”
“Where are we supposed to go, Nad? We have no car, nearest neighbor is a kilometer away and we have poison in our blood. Sweetheart, we can’t walk far.”
“Mom, we have to leave. We can’t stay here with this psychopath!”
“Nadia …”
Nadia sighs frustratedly and hides her face in her hands. Something has to work. The farthest she has seen you walk is out to the garden when they’ve had picnic evenings. You take her hand, removing it.
“Sweetheart … you know dad loves you, right?” you ask carefully. You don’t want her to hate her him, after all he is her father … but you have to let her know the truth, no more living in the shadow.
“Fucking doubt it”, Nadia mutters. 
“He does. In his … own little way. But I need you to understand that he has sides that he hasn’t shown you … a-and I don’t want you to see those sides.”
Nadia’s face goes blank. You’re trying your best not to get swindled back into old memories, but thinking about that murderous side of Dr Kry brings you back to a time you much rather would want to forget. 
“Mom?” Nadia asks blankly and almost shouts in panic. “Mom! What sides?”
“He … He is a very patient man, but he can't take as much as possible, so please, whatever you do … cooperate.”
“What does that mean? Mom?”
Nadia goes cold. That’s it, she thinks, they have to leave. 
“Mom, get up”, she says and grabs the blanket before ripping it off. “Now. Before he returns.”
“Nad-”
“We have to try, at least. Please.”
You hesitate before getting out of bed. Nadia grabs your hand and try to pull you out of the bedroom, but everything around you seem to spin. Your entire body is heavy and aching in all the wrong places. 
“Nadia, wait”, you groan. “If I’m going to move, I have to move slowly.”
“Alright”, Nadia agrees. “I’ll go get some stuff and then meet you by the stairs.”
Nadia runs to her room to collect her wallet and hoodies for herself and her sister, then runs to get your jacket. She meets you by the stairs, helps you put your jacker on and then start to lead you down. You’re terrified of falling. 
“Nadia, I don’t think that this is a good idea”, you mumble and think back of your numerous escape attempts, all ending with someone losing their life. 
“We have to, mom”, Nadia pleads. “I can’t leave you here.”
“What about Lydia?”
“I’ll figure something out afterwards.”
Nadia unlocks the front door and leads you out on the glass verandah. You’re filled with fear. What if you can’t walk? What if you hurt yourself? What if Dr Kry finds out? Your body won’t be able to take his anger. Besides, you have barely left the house in eighteen years — apart from a few car rides here and there — what if the world has changed to something you don’t like?
“Mom”, Nadia says slowly. “It’s going to be okay.”
“I’m terrified”, you admit. 
“We will be okay.”
They start to walk along the dark countryside road. There are no streetlight this far out in the forest, but the moon lights up enough for them to see where the road is heading. 
“It’s been years since I was outside last”, you say. “I think the last time I was out walking was in the garden, last summer when we had that picnic.”
“Have you ever tried to run away from dad before?” Nadia asks. 
“I have”, you answer quietly. “A few times.”
“Did you ever succeed?”
“That depends on what you mean by ‘succeeding’, because I’m still here, aren’t I? But I got away a few times … the only problem was that he found me again.” You sigh, realizing that perhaps you shouldn’t have this conversation with your underage daughter. “Forget that. Where are we going?”
“We need to go to our neighbors. They have to help us.”
Nadia has only spoken to the neighbors a few times, because of how rarely they run into each other. 
They only manage to walk a hundred meters before bright, beaming headlights light up in front of them. Nadia wants to flee into the forest — in case it happens to be her father behind the wheel — but can’t seem to pull you with her. The car stops and to Nadia’s horror, her father gets out. 
“What the Hell are you doing?!” he shouts, sounding both angry and terrified. “Y/N!”
You freeze in your spot and seem to crawl together like a hurt dog, sounding like one too. Dr Kry runs over to you. Nadia watches in horror and starts to panic, wondering what she should do. Stay here with you and get caught in Dr Kry’s claws … or make a run for it to try to get help. 
“I’m sorry”, you shriek in fear. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry-”
Dr Kry hugs your shaking body in his arms and strokes your back, hushing softly.
“I know you didn’t come up with this stupid idea”, he reassures you. “Don’t cry, my dear, I'm here now. I know this wasn't your fault. I'm not mad at you. I’ll get you back home and I'll take care of you. It’s going to be okay.”
He helps you into the front seat. You don’t fight back in the slightest. Nadia looks back at the dark forest and gulps. Her eyes glues onto something in the backseat and realizes that he has come back with her sister! 
“Nadia, get in, we've had enough of these childish outbursts”, her father tells her. “Get in. Now.”
“Is she okay?” Nadia almost stutters and points at her sleeping sister. 
“She’s okay. If you don’t get in now, Nadia, I’m taking them both with me and you’ll never see them again.”
His favoritism has never been clearer, Nadia thinks. She can’t leave her sister … so she gets into the backseat. Nadia wakes her sister up and caresses her cheek. 
“Are you okay?” she whispers quickly. “Did he hurt you?”
“I feel okay”, Lydia whispers back. “Just … tired. I had tro throw up a lot and I think that he gave me some sleeping pills or something. I insisted on going home … so he let me.”
Nadia breathes out. She glances over at the front seat. Their father holds the steering wheel with one hand and yours with the other. 
“Please don’t cry”, he wishes. 
Nadia watches on in disgust. 
When they get back to the white villah, Nadia pulls her sister up to her own room and lays her down on the bed while Dr Kry takes you into the master bedroom. 
“Here you go”, Nadia says and tucks her in. “Are you okay? Do you need anything?”
“Some water”, Lydia says quietly. 
Nadia disappears downstairs to get a glass of water. She meets her father in the stairs. 
“Nadia, I’m not sure your sister will be able to leave her bed for a while”, he says warningly. “I wouldn’t try to leave, if i were you. If you do, I will take both of them with me, and you’ll never see them again.”
“Do you like to hurt your family?” she spits back. “What kind of sadist are you?”
“One to make sure my family stays with me. If you don’t want to end up in the same physical state as your sister and mother, you’re going to continue living as if everything is normal, got that? Go to school, come home, study, continue everything. No talking to anyone about this. Is that clear?”
“So everything as normal … but without Lydia?”
“Exactly.”
“Why aren’t you healing her?”
“Because I’m not going to let you, or anyone, take my family from me. Be glad that I’m still letting you live normally.”
Nadia glares at him and continues up the stairs. She holds the glass to Lydia’s mouth, watching her sip. 
“What now?” she whispers. 
“I’m allowed to continue living like normally … and you don’t”, Nadia says quietly. “I’m sorry.”
“But … but I don’t want to live like mom!”
“I know. I’m sorry, Lyd.”
The girl in the bed sighs sadly. Naida takes her hand and gulps. 
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The coming weeks seem normal. Nadia goes to school, studies, returns to the villah, but nothing is the same. Without Lydia, there’s no use in being on top. She has no one to impress anymore. Her father is dead to her, and sucking up to him makes her sick. She barely talks to her friends anymore. They’re always asking her about Lydia, and why she’s not in school anymore. Nadia can’t come up with countless excuses … it’s easier to distance herself. 
Life doesn’t seem that bright and colorful anymore. Nadia can’t bring herself to be excited about things that used to interest her badly. Now, every day is a chore, something she wants to get done, until something happens … but she doesn’t know what it is. A death in the family? Someone saving them? Someone killing someone? 
Nadia walks out of school, seeing her fathers white car parked outside the gates, and him inside … waiting for her. 
1K notes · View notes
fatuismooches · 1 year
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Could you please write about the Harbingers and their voice lines for the reader? Like them telling the traveler about you and stuff :)
♡����𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬’ 𝐕𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐀𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮 ♡
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synopsis: The Traveler expected the Harbingers to be cold and ruthless in pursuing whatever the Fatui's goals were. Hearing their loving voice lines on you was certainly the opposite of what they predicted.
includes: all harbingers (platonic pulcinella) w/ gn! reader
notes: I've wanted to do something like this for a while. It was rather cute and fun to write! Includes five voice lines about you for each Harbinger.
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Pierro:
About You - His Lover:
“So you’ve already met [Name], Traveler? I’m not surprised, they like to talk to people, especially when they see me speaking to others. They’re quite energetic and bouncy, aren’t they? But I can’t say I dislike that about them. They are a bright light in my life.”
Chat - Walks:
“Much of our time spent together is on walks outside in Sneznhaya, with the snow gently melting on us. It’s a rather simple activity to most, but irreplaceable to both of us. I hope, after everything is said and done, I can take them on walks in other places.”
About Your Patience:
“They never comment on it, but I know they get lonely without me. For most of the day, they do not see me due to my work, and even when they try to stay up late for my return, they end up falling asleep sometimes. I truly wish I could spend more time with them. But I know, after fulfilling the Tsaritsa’s dream, I will give them everything and more.”
Something To Share - Meals:
“I don’t think about what I eat or when I do very often. It doesn’t matter much to me, but [Name] clearly disagrees. Instead of the maids preparing my meals, they started cooking everything for me and adding little notes too. It’s very endearing of them, but I don’t think I’ll ever live it down when the other soldiers saw me eating heart-shaped cookies with smiley faces on them…”
About You - A Second Home:
“I remember the destruction of my homeland clearly. It is something I will never forget. But even though I have only a small portion of time with them, they never fail to make me feel… content. With them, I can forget about everything, even if it is just for a few minutes. Heh, sometimes I foolishly wish they lived in Khaenri’ah with me for a bit, if only to experience a normal life with them.”
Capitano:
About You - His Lover:
“There is nothing I cherish more than [Name]. Many people often comment on our relationship, after all, we are quite different in all aspects. But I have them to thank for many things. They have taught me many things I could have never learned on my own.
Chat - Souvenirs:
“Traveler, you have been to many nations for extended periods of time. Would you share some items that would make good souvenirs? I always make sure to bring something back for them. If you have any recipes to share, that would be greatly appreciated as well. Whenever I am back home, [Name] always insists on having all of our meals together.”
A Special Item - The Kamera:
“You must be wondering why someone like me carries around something like this. I never cared for the device until [Name] told me about it and asked me to take photos on my expeditions. I guess I’ve unintentionally become a master without knowing it because they always praise the pictures I take when they organize them in their scrapbook.”
Something To Share - Smiles:
“I am not adept at smiling at all, or very expressive in general, something [Name] has an issue with. Oftentimes, they sit on my lap and try to get me to show some emotion on my face. Reading stories, telling jokes… they try it all quite frequently. While I don’t think it’s working very well, I enjoy their antics.”
About You - Reminiscing:
“I remember once I walked in on them trying on my helmet and coat. They hadn’t noticed me yet, and I couldn’t help but notice how small they looked buried under my clothes. But quickly I worried about whether their head could take the weight of my helmet. Before I could say anything, they saw me and scurried away in embarrassment. I never brought it up again, but it was rather cute.”
“Huh… Paimon would have never guessed Capitano was like this. When we go to Snezhnaya, we have to find this guy’s mansion somehow! Paimon wants to meet [Name]!”
Columbina:
About You - Her Lover:
“Hmm~hmm~♫ Oh, hello there, Traveler. Ah, I see you’ve brought [Name] with you too, come here, my dear. Hmm? Oh, I guess I forgot to tell you. They are my partner in love, music, in everything. Perhaps you should come to one of our shows one day. I’d say we are quite good.”
About You - Favorite Pastimes:
“I love going to watch plays with them. The theater is one of the places where we spend a lot of time. I always end up humming along to the songs. Sometimes, when the theater is unoccupied, we act out certain scenes together. Say, Traveler, have you ever heard of Romeo and Juliet?”
Chat - Naps:
“Hmm… what time is it? The weather just feels perfect for a midday nap. [Name] always indulges me whenever I want when I want to doze off. This surface is no match for their pillowy softness, but it’ll have to do for now…”
“Hey, you can’t just fall asleep in the middle of- oh… Paimon doesn’t know how she can knock out that quickly.”
Secret Hobby - Poems About You:
“Your bright smile that can go on for a mile,
Unmatchable style with a laugh that never ends for a while.
Sweet lips that I want to savor,
Ah, I am so glad I am in your favor.
Or should I say “For you make me ever the more braver”...? What do you think, Traveler?”
Something Interesting - Liyue Opera:
“Traveler, I hear that there is a talented opera troupe in Liyue with beautiful music and songs. Oh, you’ve met them yourself? I would love to attend it with [Name]. They love listening to music from around Teyvat, and I have to agree with them. Haha… I can’t wait to take them out of Snezhnaya for a bit.”
Dottore:
About You - His Lover:
“Hmph, you wish to know about [Name], I hear?”
“Yeah! Paimon wants to know what kind of person would stay with a madman- I mean! A Fatui Harbinger! You know, since that’s quite dangerous and all.”
“Hehe, is that so? Too bad, because I have no obligation to tell you. But they are truly… ah, never mind.”
“Aww… Paimon really wanted to know what he was going to say.”
About You And The Segments:
“Some of the segments are quite fond of them, while some do not know them very well. After all, they were cloned at different parts of my life, before and after I met them. I must say… it’s can be hard to get some of the other segments away from them. I didn’t think they would hoard [Name]’s attention so much…”
“Is it just Paimon, or does Dottore’s attentiveness towards them grow as each clone gets older? And hey, is Dottore jealous-”
“Shush Paimon, before he hears you!”
About You - Whereabouts:
"It's time for their medicine... Hmm, have you seen them, Traveler? You saw them leave and go into the city? And you didn't stop them? Tch, useless. I must simply go and find them myself... Now that I think about it, I wouldn't want you talking to [Name], anyway."
About You - Health Concerns:
“Ever since our Akademiya days, [Name] has been plagued with an unknown and virtually incurable disease. It is essential that they take their medicine every day, but they often try to avoid it, after doing it for so long. This is why I and the clones always keep an eye on them.”
“Aw, so that’s why [Name] always looks so tired whenever Paimon sees them… That must be so hard.”
“… I don’t care what methods or tactics I have to employ, or if the Gods or even you, Traveler, get in my way. I will cure them of their sickness. Nothing will stop me.”
When The Sun Is Out:
“Hm, it’s a perfect day for [Name] to take a walk. The fresh air is always good for their health. Perhaps a boat ride is in order as well.”
“Oooh, Paimon loves the sound of that! Maybe we can fish and eat it too!”
“Why would I ever invite you to be with us? I’m sure your very existence would give them a headache.”
“Hey, how rude!!”
Pulcinella:
About You - Relationship:
“You were fighting some hilichurls when someone called [Name] joined you? And they ended up lighting an explosive barrel? Wherever that child goes, they always bring trouble with them. But don’t hold it against them. They are a lovely person to be around.”
Stories To Tell:
“They always pester me to tell them stories. Though, this is not a bad thing at all. Not many are willing to listen to this old man ramble on willingly. Ah, youth is a wonderful thing. Would you like to join us next time, Traveler?”
Chat - New Things:
“Indeed, they have taught me many things. The latest trends, songs, books, and more that their generation is into. Sometimes I struggle to understand some of what they say too… the world is changing so quickly.”
About You - Baking:
“We bake together quite often. Most of the time, I have to direct them, otherwise, they will burn down the kitchen which has happened multiple times before. Pantalone was not happy. I have never seen a youngster with such little aptitude for cooking, but surprisingly, it is great fun.”
About You - Family:
“Ever since they were young, they were quite rebellious. Running away from the castle, pretending to be asleep after bedtime, beating up all the Fatui soldiers during sparring without hesitance. If anyone else besides me had to take care of them, it would not have ended well. But, I am truly glad they are in my care. I have thought of them as my own child for a long time. If it wasn’t for the possible danger, I’d have officially adopted them long ago.”
Scaramouche:
About You - His Lover:
“Huh? How do you know about [Name]?”
“Well, we just happened to see them with you once. You were actually smiling! And later we went up and spoke to them for a bit, and they were really nice! They told us that they were your-”
“Ugh, that idiot! Always trusting people so blindly… Anyway, I don’t need you to know anything else. It isn’t your business.” 
A Little Secret:
“I wonder if they could make dango for me again… it’s been a long time since I’ve had it. But how do I get them to make it without directly asking? How bothersome… huh? How long have you been there, Traveler? You didn’t hear anything, did you?!”
Something To Share - Burdened Feelings:
“I once tried to wipe my emotions and feelings of them away into nothingness. It felt preposterous to me that I could feel something for a human, one that could barely fight nonetheless. But when I lost the Gnosis, when I lost everything, as I fell down, the only thing that I saw in my mind was their stupid smile…”
When It Rains:
“Whenever it rained, they would always huddle themselves close to me under my hat. At first, I pushed them away, but the look on their face made me allow them to continue. Sometimes, I make sure to take them out on a day that’s expected to rain just to see them do that. Don’t you dare tell them that though, Traveler.”
About Beelzebul:
“[Name] is always telling me to reconcile with her, but what would she think of me, or of them? How would she act toward me? Would she even remember me? There’s that irritating shrine maiden too… Hmm? It’s nothing. Let’s keep moving.”
Arlecchino:
About You - Her Lover:
“[Name]? Yes, they are my partner. I suppose those Fatui recruits can’t keep their mouths shut about other people’s business for very long. Hmm? You’re surprised that I was so direct about it? Well, there’s no reason to hide it. But I would prefer that this discussion ends here. I like to keep my time with them private.”
When It’s Sunny:
“This weather is not my favorite. I prefer the cold much more than this blistering heat. But I did hear [Name] say that they would like to visit a beach someday. Hmm… say, Traveler, is Yaoguang Shoal a good spot?”
Something To Share - Quietly Loving:
“I’m sure you have realized by now that I am not very good with words or emotions. These things are far from my expertise. However, they seem to not mind my behavior, talking enough for both of us. But if they ever requested anything from me, I would do it without hesitance. No one else comes close.”
Chat - Coffee:
“One cup of coffee, with whipped cream, syrup, and sugar please.”
“…Eh?!! Arlecchino, what are you saying? You always order your coffee black!”
“I know. To be honest, I could not care less about all these extra ingredients. But… they always used to try and add things to sweeten the drink behind my back. I suppose I… miss them. This reminds me of them, a bit.”
“Aww… Paimon guesses that even the scariest and coldest of people can have someone special to them.”
About You - The Orphanage:
“They often spend their time with the orphans. I was initially surprised at first, and so were the other soldiers, but it worked out in our favor. The children love them far more than they will for me or the recruits. [Name] is a gentle and patient soul, after all. Reading stories, putting the kids to sleep… they are quite hard working despite having no need to.”
La Signora:
About You - Her Lover:
“My darling [Name] is the most perfect lover one could ask for. They are beautiful, inside and out. How I love to pamper them so… actually, there are a couple of new outfits I want them to try on. I can’t wait to see how they look. They are all mine.”
When It’s Windy:
“Tch, this wind is messing up my hair and clothes. [Name] used to always brush and take care of my hair after a long day, after I showed them how to do it correctly of course. Traveler, I’m afraid I have to go now. I must see them again.”
About You - Letters:
“Hmm, hmm, hmm… and it’s done.”
“Hey Signora, what are you writing?”
“Just a letter to my dearest. They are expecting something from me soon.”
“Wow, so you can send letters with your fire moths? That’s resourceful!”
“Of course. I always let a few stay around [Name] as well. If any of them happen to be extinguished, I’ll know if anything happened to them.”
About You - Favorite Pastimes:
“There’s nothing that pleases me more than seeing them all dolled up in the latest fashion. They look simply exquisite, especially when we do each other’s makeup. But I also adore seeing them lounge around in their favorite hoodies. They look great in anything, really.”
Something To Share - Past Grief, New Happiness:
“Sometimes, it feels just like yesterday when I lost him. Grief and bitterness wrapped around my heart like a cocoon that would never hatch. But when I fell in love with them, I felt something that I had not felt in far too long. That cocoon started to shatter little by little, as I started to remember how to love again. I truly love them wholly with whatever’s remaining of my heart.”
Pantalone:
About You - His Lover:
“So, you’ve met [Name], I hear. What do you think of them? Beautiful, am I right? Of course, they are nothing short of perfection to me. Hardworking, determined, helpful… I could go on about them. Say, Traveler, would you be so kind to direct me to some of the best shops around here? I would like to find some gifts to send to them while we’re here.”
Worries - Financial Concerns:
“Traveler, I have a great issue on my hands. [Name] has apparently forbidden me from spending any more Mora on them. They keep saying that they do not need anything else, but how can I restrain myself from spoiling my darling?”
About You - Favorite Pastimes:
“Oftentimes, we like to end off the day with some leisurely reading. The feeling of them laying against my chest, legs intertwined, as I whisper certain parts of the book softly into their ear, delighting as they turn warm- oho, your face is all red. Did I make you embarrassed? Apologies, I get carried away when talking about them.”
About You - First Meeting:
“My childhood is not something that I like to remember. But, despite everything, it is pleasant to think about the first time I met them. They were poor, just like me, barely scraping by, though they never failed to greet me every day with a big smile. [Name] would take over the grueling working shifts for me and the younger kids sometimes, and sneak bits of food out the window to me. Even with the fact that I was surrounded by poverty, I couldn’t help but think I had a true gem right in front of me. ”
When It’s Cold:
“I confess, I do enjoy the cold, but most of it is due to how adorable [Name] looks all bundled up in my fur coats. Or how they always dive under the covers and refuse to get up for anything. It is always a struggle for even me to get up from bed when they are so warm, too.”
Sandrone:
About You - Her Lover:
“They are my loyal assistant and lover, always willing to help out with any experiment I ask. I have known them for a very long time. They have always been the one to drag me out of the lab to get some fresh air… as a matter of fact, I think it’s about this time when they come to harass me. Somehow they’ve gotten half the robots on their side, too.”
When It’s Raining:
“This weather is good for testing how waterproof my robots are and the joints of my Automatons. A long time ago, I built a feature for an umbrella into some of my creations so whenever [Name] and I went for walks and it rained, we would be fine. Huh, you’re asking if you can use it? No, you can’t.”
About You - Favorite Pastimes:
“Eh? Sandrone, what is all this? You’re all dressed up!”
“Oh, it’s you. I’m simply preparing for my favorite event with my dear lover. We’ve just finished repairing an ancient Automaton, and they’ve decided a tea party is in order.”
“Wow! Even the robots have spiffy suits on! It smells so good here too, hehe, Paimon wants a taste of the tea and cookies too- w-woah! Where’d all these big robots come from?! Hey, let Paimon down!”
“This is for [Name] and I only. Now shoo. The tea party is set to begin soon, and I must welcome my honored guest…”
Inspiration - New Creations:
“Before I met them, I had never thought of using my skills to create mundane things that weren’t war machines or destructive Automatons. I thought anything else would be a waste of time, but surprisingly, it is not too bad. It’s quite nice to feel their fascinated face in the crook of my neck while I work. I usually gift these creations to them, anyway. They’re not much use to me, but [Name] likes these kinds of things.”
The Future - Fontaine Frenzy:
“I hear that I am set to head out to Fontaine soon. I would love to see the faces of those poor souls when they realize their technology is nothing compared to what the Fatui has created. Ah, I guess that means I’ll be seeing you there too. Will you be able to keep up with [Name] and I, Traveler? I must warn you, they are a formidable foe, with their refined skill and raw power from my mechanical attachments. Now that I think about there, there were some new weapons we wanted to try out… hehe, I can’t wait.” 
Childe:
About You - His Lover:
“Oho, interested in [Name] are you? I don’t blame you - they are truly an amazing person. Sweet, kind, and caring, not to mention, they are incredibly strong as well. Teucer loves them too, always wanting piggyback rides. I can’t wait to introduce them to the rest of my family.”
About You - First Meeting:
“I clearly remember the first time I laid eyes on them. I was passing through Liyue when I heard of an archery competition, and naturally, I was eager to test my skills. I was sure that I would win first place, but what did you know! Someone called [Name] had stolen that spot from me. Long story short, I pestered them until they fought me, and they really did beat me down. Haha, it feels so long ago, now that I look back on it.”
When It Snows:
“I once took [Name] to Dragonspine, because they wanted to see the snow as it was a rare occurrence in Liyue. You should have seen them, hah! Shaking and sniffling like it was the end of the world. And it wasn’t even that cold, as least compared to my homeland. Why didn’t I take them to Snezhnaya? Don’t worry, I plan to, very, very soon…
About You - Whereabouts:
"Have you seen them, Traveler? No? Haha, they must be hiding from me again. I guess I’ve asked them to spar too many times. Comrade, if you happen to see [Name], tell them I’m waiting at Northland Bank for them. Xinyue Kiosk, my treat.”
About You - Safety:
“Heh, I wonder what they’re doing right now. I hope they haven’t been roped into any strange commissions again. They are too helpful for their own good. If anything happened to them while I’m gone… Traveler, if you happen to be around, please help them. I’ll owe you, comrade.”
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verinarin · 2 months
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𝐒𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞
angst with comfort | he’s always on the winning side of things, but for you he’s willing to lose
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Aventurine never was fond of being alone, never since he met you.
Ever since you have graced his life with your warmth he can’t go back, he hated the idea of a past, present, and future without your warmth beside him. This selfish want of his transpires the most underneath the sheets, it goes far beyond his sexual need nor his primal lust.
No, this need of his is far more pure.
Sincere even, that’s saying a lot since he was never known to be sincere.
Yet he is, for you.
Only you.
He found it easier to sleep against your chest, listening to your calm heartbeat lulls him to slumber far more successfully than any other methods he used in the past. He often described your whole body as his teddy bear, the sentiment suits you perfectly since he had always wrapped his arm around your waist, holding you close as his head rested upon your chest.
So warm, so soft, so comforting.
It fills his barren heart with emotions he has always yearned for, love and adoration.
A sense of being wanted, of being loved.
He has survived by himself for years by his cunning wit and gambling his life away, yet he had stumbled upon uncharted territories with you. The feeling of comfort and security you had given him has him utterly petrified.
The thought of baring his true naked self to you terrifies him, he was never a good person, he was far from it.
You know that. You know that very well and yet here you are with fingers brushing through his blond hair, the comfort that you gave also comes with a price.
And for the first time, he’s scared to lose it, to lose you.
Unbeknownst to him, a tear has escaped from his eye. He hates it. He hates how scared he is of losing you, “Rine, are you alright ?” your soft comforting voice lingered in his ear.
“Ah I’m fine !, what makes you ask that ?,” he smiled as he tilted his head upwards, your expression paints a clear picture of worry. He does not want that.
“You’re crying,” the softness of your voice, the kindness it holds. It could render him into a crying mess, he hates it.
He hates being vulnerable, yet it’s you.
Would you leave him for this?
“Am I now ?,” he chuckled, a smirk plastered on his face. An attempt to try to mask his feelings away has never worked on you.
Yet he tries anyway.
“You are,” your hand cupped his cheeks, your thumb gently wiped away tears drops falling from his face.
He smiled, genuinely smiled as you wiped away the tears that formed from his heart. His soul.
“Perhaps I am,” he bitterly replied.
“I’m here, always here and I hope you know that,” you replied calmly, his hands reaching forward to caress your cheek, holding it gently like a precious stone.
“I’m terrified,” he muttered, his thumb resting upon your lower lip as he spoke.
“Of what ?,” you asked, you could feel his thumb tracing your lips as you spoke.
“Losing you,” he replied shortly, his lips forming a gentle smile as he watched you chuckle upon hearing his answer.
“A gambler, terrified to lose. That’s new,” you smiled, your fingers brushed his hair back to see his face, tired yet comforted.
“I don’t gamble on our relationship, feel free to use me or stab me in the back if that’s what you want,” he leaned forward, closing the gap between your face and his.
“But for you, I’m not afraid to be on the losing side,” he muttered against your lips, before pressing his own against yours to seal the deal.
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dazai-ritualist · 1 month
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RANT TO ME, I LIKE THE SOUND…
— charlie + angel + alastor talking about their day, completely absorbed when they look at you, completely smitten
— masc!reader (angel)
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— charlie
“and then, he kicked me out of the room! can you fucking believe him?!” charlie grumbled, ranting about her meeting with adam as you brushed her hair. “i swear… i’ll go to heaven and i’ll make them listen” she sighed determinedly.
“and… after that—“ charlie wandered off again, thoughts interrupted when she no longer felt the bristles against her hair and instead, you face on her shoulder, hugging her waist from behind.
“oh… are you tired? i..i’m sorry if i was talking too much…” she awkwardly laughed. “no, don’t apologize, babe… keep talking, i like the sound.” you sighed as you kissed her on the cheek.
charlie’s heart tightened at what you had said. you like to listen to her ranting… you’ll have no idea how much it means to her; for you to not dismiss her ramblings, but instead listen closely.
“are you sure you’re not tired though?” she asked one last time. “nuh-uh, i’m wide awake, see?” you said before tickling her at the back of her neck, her ticklish spot.
“agh! noo, i believe you!” charlie screamed out, trying to get herself free from your grip around her waist. “stop! i believe you, no more!!” she cried out as you laughed, stopping your antics.
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— angel
“today, val was a complete dickhead, i swear…” angel frowned, hugging fat nuggets in his top two arms and hugging you in his lower two. “today, he had me filming a bunch’a back shots while getting my hair pulled…” he sighed grimly, pulling you closer as your hands moved to his hair, carefully massaging it.
“are you okay?” you asked worriedly. “‘course i am, you’re here” angel grinned sappily. “afta’ that, cherri and i went drinking at that new club. i didn’t have buy any drugs today, i spent all my money on shots…”
“i’m proud of you, babe. you’re getting better.” you smiled, looking at him lovingly. “ya really think so?” he asked hopefully. “i know so. you’re already doing so well.” you ran your thumb against his cheek.
angel’s shoulders relaxed under your touch as he buried himself deeper in your touch. “love ya so much, babe.” angel smiled, eyes growing heavy.
“i love you too, angie. keep talking if you wanna, i like your pretty mouth.” you said, pulling him closer as you kissed his head.
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— alastor
“so, then i headed to the tailor’s… they fixed my coat and when i came out, eugh…” alastor groaned in disgust, telling you about today as he sat by the fireplace in the hotel den. “vox was on various of those picture boxes, singing about how i am ‘outdated’.”
“and, as per expected, his modern technology failed and caused a blackout across the city!” he chuckled to himself. “you don’t think i’m outdated, do you, love?” alastor looked up, seeing you on the sofa as you stare at him, listening to his words intently.
“dear? are you even listening?” he smugly grinned. “of course i am…” you frowned. “i’m just… admiring you, i guess.”
“oh, are you now?” he sighed at your little lovey-dovey habits. “yeah… i like your voice, it’s soothing…” you blushed. “you find my voice comforting?” he asked. “how interesting, perhaps i’ll decide to ramble to you more often.” he grinned, closing his book.
he got up from his seat and over to you as he pulled you close by your shoulder. “now, back to my question— you don’t think i am outdated, do you?” he raised an eyebrow. “of course not…” you said. “hmph, good.” he nodded as he laid your head on him.
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yandere-daydreams · 6 months
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Title: Monster Mania.
Pairing: Yandere!Vampire!Neuvillette x Reader x Yandere!Werewolf!Wriothesley (Genshin).
Word Count: 3.0k.
TW: Non/Con, AFAB!Reader, Oral Sex, Mentions of Blood, Non-Human Anatomy, Possessive Behavior, Prolonged Imprprisoment, and Slight Dehumanization.
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“Pouting won’t get you out of this.”
“I’m not—” You paused, gritting your teeth as his shoulder pressed uncomfortably into your stomach. In retribution, you did your best to drive your knee into his chest, to let him know he was hurting you without admitting that you were even more fragile than he’d assumed, but if he cared about your attempts at resistance, if he so much as noticed that you’d moved at all, Wriothesley didn’t waver. “I’m not pouting, I’m trying to get away from my fucking stalker and his—” Another fit of thrashing. This time, Wriothesley was kind enough to tighten his hold on your legs. “—fucking dog. Why is that so hard for you two to get that through your heads?”
He hummed, drumming his fingers against your thigh. “Might be how often call us… what was it, again? A stalker and a dog?”
You scowled, crossing your arms. From your current position, slung over his shoulder, the remnants of one of his rope snares still wrapped around your left ankle, you could only see the thin footpath he was following and the dense forest that laid beyond it. The tree canopy was too thick to let you see the sky (something you mourned and Neuvillette adored, considering his fondness for early evening walks), but rays of golden sunlight still managed to pierce the endless sprawl of branches and leaves, marking the first signs of dusk. Neuvillette had still been asleep when you slipped through the door Wriothesley had forgotten to lock when he left for his daily hunting trip, but he’d be waking up soon; you could already imagine him rising from his canopied bed, picture the diluted shock he’d wear as he stepped into your bedroom for his first meal of the night only to find it empty. You weren’t surprised Wriothesley was so eager to get you home. Neuvillette was stoic at the worst of times, but the thought of letting his pet blood-bag get away was one of the few things that could get a reaction out of him.
Not that Wriothesley was much better. He was more level-headed, sure, more likely to let you wear something aside from ivory nightgowns and untangle you from Neuvillette’s arms when his hunger left him in a blood-thirsty daze, but that never stopped him from taking Neuvillette’s side when you found yourself in another petty argument, from standing in the doorway with a smile and a dreamy look in his eyes as Neuvillette fastened a lace collar around your neck, a collar just a touch too small to cover the twin puncture marks at the base of your throat and just a touch too similar to the steel choker that sat at the base of Wriothesley’s throat more often than not. He might’ve been human, something as mortal and as delicate as you were, but he was still a monster. He’d be crushed under Neuvillette’s heel a thousand times before he ever considered showing you mercy.
The shadow of their mansion was coming into view, now – the lonely building just as dark and just as intimidating as it’d been the first time Wriothesley lured inside. It stretched on as far as the eye could see in either direction and towered above you like some awful, looming thing; thick curtains constantly drawn over its many windows and every surface of its exterior constantly covered in a thick layer of creeping ivy. The rotting boards of the front porch groaned under his weight as he approached the front door, and you braced yourself as he cursed under his breath, patting down the pockets of his heavy flannel. You weren’t sure why they bothered keeping the door locked at all – aside from what it took to keep you trapped inside, at least. Neuvillette was the most dangerous thing for the next hundred miles, and Wriothesley was a close second.
The inside of the mansion was just as ominous; any light from the outside world captured and suffocated before it could penetrate Neuvillette’s endless abyss. You squirmed, hoping Wriothesley would at least let you cross the threshold on your own, but he wasn’t so kind, only responding to your silent plea with a playful squeeze to your calf as he made his way past the entryway and down an unlit hall, passing several torn paintings and overturned tables before finally shrugging open the door to Neuvillette’s study. A bottle of red wine sat open and half-drained on his mahogany desk, a small fire smoldering in the stone hearth he only rarely used. Neuvillette sat beside it, dressed in a simple black robe, his eyes blearily focused on the low-burning flames. He looked concerned, but his apprehension faded as Wriothesley carried you into his line of sigh, disappearing completely as you were hauled off of Wriothesley’s shoulder and dropped into Neuvillette’s lap. One of his hands found its way to your waist, its twin cupping your cheek, tilting your head back and allowing him to press a lingering kiss into the top of your head. “Beloved,” he muttered, practically breathing out his pet name for you before turning to Wriothesley. “Thank you, duke. I’m sorry you’ve had to inconvenience yourself for the sake of what should be my responsibility again.”
With a groan, Wriothesley fell onto the foot of the fireplace, shrugging off his coat. Where Neuvillette chose to hide his bloodlust behind a thick veil of unwavering niceties and delicate elegance, Wriothesley leaned into his brutality; broad muscle straining at the confines of his black undershirt, scruff cropping up faster than he could clear it away, his hair an untamable mess of black and grey and his clothes caked in an ever constant layer of mud and wear (save for his metal choker, of course, which was always polished to conspicuous shine). His eyes lit up when he heard Neuvillette ask after him, posture straightening like that of a soldier called to attention. You’d been too generous when you called him a dog. He was a mutt, too mindlessly obedient to ever question his master’s orders. “How many centuries has it been since you’ve had a reason to call me that?”
“It should be four this year.” Another kiss, this one to the corner of your jaw. You could feel the points of his fangs, still tucked behind his lips but no less dangerous for their momentary concealment. “Don’t you have something to say to him, as well?”
It took a moment to register he was talking to you, another to recognize the hypocrisy of what he was asking you. Your pressed frown fell into an open-mouthed balk. “Absolutely not.” And then, when Neuvillette held strong, “You can’t expect me to thank him for keeping me trapped here—”
“Silence.” He didn’t raise his voice, didn’t bear his fangs or dig his pointed nails into your thigh – he didn’t have to. All it took was that tone. Assertive, but not quite forceful. Lulling, but no softer than the wood and stone of his hellish mansion. Immediately, you shut your mouth. Neuvillette closed his eyes, letting out a raspy sigh before taking you by the hips and turning you in his lap, so that you faced outward rather than into his chest. That was enough to earn Wriothesley’s full attention, perking up as you were perched on the edge of Neuvillette’s lap. “Why don’t we try that again. Do you have anything to say to Wriothesley?”
You glared pointedly at the floor. “Thank you. For bringing me back?”
“And?”
“And...” This was the part you hated the most. If there’d been an alternative – a dungeon they could’ve thrown you into, a brand they could sear into your skin – you would’ve embraced it with open arms. But, that was the worst part about dealing with an captor. He had all the time in the world to make you bask in your own humiliation, and he never seemed to tire of the pasttime. “And, thank you for making sure I didn’t get hurt in the forest.”
As if there was anything out there that could’ve hurt you more than they did. Still, it seemed to appease Neuvillette, who let out an approving hum as he turned to Wriothesley. “What do you think? Be honest, this time. No lesson was ever taught with a gentle hand.”
He took a long moment to look over you, another to wet his lips. Wordlessly, dependent on the pure desperation in your eyes, you begged him not to listen to Neuvillette, to take your side just this once, but your improvised attempts at telepathic communication proved unsuccessful. “It could’ve been more genuine,” he admitted, with a slight shrug. “Didn’t have much nice to say on the way back, either.”
“Is that so?” His fingertips drummed against your side. “Why don’t you join us?”
Wriothesley didn’t hesitate, practically stumbling over himself as he crawled to Neuvillette’s feet. He came to rest on his knees, hand braced against the rug between his thighs and his cheek only a hair’s width from Neuvillette’s leg, as if waiting for permission to press against him. He always looked at his most relaxed there, on the floor, patiently waiting for an order from his master. It was hard to tell whether it was a skill learned through time, or if subservience was just in his nature.
His obedience was rewarded with a breathy chuckle, a hand run through his unruly hair. Wriothesley was more lax with himself than he usually was, letting his eyes fall shut as he melted into Neuvillette’s touch. “Since your tongue is so uncooperative today,” Neuvillette started, leaning forward just far enough to rest his chin on your shoulder. “How do you think you can show our dear helper how grateful you are?”
A bolt of cold dread shot down your spine. You moved to stand, to get away, but Neuvillette’s arm wrapped tight around your midriff, keeping you pinned against him despite your resistance. “Neuvi’,” you mumbled, squirming against him. “Please, Neuvi’, I don’t want to—”
“Now you’re going to play nice?” His hand fell to your knee, drawing your legs apart. Wriothesley filled the space before you could clench them shut again, his mouth immediately latching onto the inside of your thigh, his dull teeth burying themselves in the plush of your exposed skin. You cursed under your breath, trying to shake him off, but he held tight, fists curling around your ankles to keep you spread and exposed as Neuvillette watched on, his grin pressing into the crook of your throat. “That’s a little cruel, beloved. Can’t you see how excited he is?”
You could. There was a glassy sheen over his half-lidded eyes, a hunch to his posture that meant he was too distracted with you to care about how he held himself. You’d slipped out in a rush, eager to get as far as you could before Neuvillette woke up. In your haste, you hadn’t bothered to change out of the simple, silken frock you were wearing; a choice you only came to regret as Neuvillette dragged the tattered hem to your waist, as Wriothesley’s attention drifted from your thighs to your panties, the lacey fabric torn away with little more than a curl of his fingers and a throaty growl. That, more than anything, caught you off-guard. It wasn’t a threat, but it was more hostile than anything he’d ever directed towards you before. It wasn’t a sound someone like him, someone like you, should’ve been capable of making.
Neuvillette must’ve felt the way you stiffened against him. He pressed an open-mouthed kiss into the curve of your throat, just a touch too close to the vein he preferred to drink from, then another into the dip of your shoulder. “Surely, you must’ve noticed how scarce Wriothesley makes himself around this time of the month.” He paused, laughing airily. “He’d already be safely locked away in the cellar, if you hadn’t made him run out and fetch you. I suppose it must’ve slipped his mind while he was looking for you.”
“I don’t—” A tongue, broader than it should’ve been, hotter than it should’ve been, ran over your slit. “But, he’s supposed to be—”
“Human?” You refused to look at him, refused to acknowledge what he was doing to you, but you could feel his teeth ghosting over your skin, their usually dull tips beginning to sharpen into something more pointed, more animalistic. His tongue slipped into your entrance, thick enough to stretch you open with little more than its curling tip, and Neuvillette’s focus fell to your clit, left neglected by Wriothesley’s unwavering concentration on lapping up as much of your (humiliatingly, quickly accumulating) slick as he could. His thumb toyed with the sensitive bundle of nerves as he went on. “He is rather young, as far as immortal beings are concerned. He made an adorable puppy, back when creatures of the night were free to roam as they pleased, but he’s matured since his days of village razing and cattle slaughtering. I think you’ll find he’s learned how to keep his fangs to himself.” Wriothesley nipped gently at the junction of your thigh. You winced and Neuvillette added, “More or less.”
You could only bring yourself to half-listen to what he was saying. Wriothesley was growing more wild by the second, his formerly languid movements now hasty and agitated, little groans and growls joining the wet, disgusting sounds quickly filling the study. You felt claws that hadn’t been there a moment ago dig into your ankles, his already impressive build taking on bulk that would’ve been possible for anything natural, anything human. It wasn’t enough to just look away, anymore – you shut your eyes completely, bowing your head and curling into yourself as Wriothesley ate you out like a man— no, not a man, a beast starved. The cool marble of Neuvillette’s chest was almost a comfort when compared to the raw heat of Wriothesley’s mouth. It might’ve been more soothing, had he not been taking so much joy in your suffering.
“He’s always been prone to getting carried away. I used to have to fetch him at dawn – he could never seem to make it home before the moon set and he was left bare and unconscious in the vineyard of some poor nobleman.” He pulled back, letting Wriothesley’s cold nose grind against your clit in his place. You weren’t free from his touch for very long, though. The array of ribbons that kept the bodice of your frock drawn tight were undone, the neckline loosened and allowed to fall to your shoulders. “I’ve always preferred a more direct approach. The occasional drunkard taken off the street and drained was always enough to keep me sated.” He paused, cupped the curves of your chest. “Until I came across you, of course.”
You felt his fangs scrape over your neck, but he didn’t have time to bite down before you lurched forward, the sporadic movements of Wriothesley’s tongue bringing you to a sudden, unsteady climax. It was abrupt enough, violent enough to make tears swell in the corners of your eyes, to steal a ragged gasp from your lungs despite your attempts to swallow back any pathetic sound your weak-willed body might’ve wanted to make. For the first time, you couldn’t stop yourself from looking at him, letting your gaze fall onto the black-furred, oversized thing between your legs. He was unrecognizable, black fur and a wolf-like muzzle swallowing any familiar trait you might’ve latched onto. Pointed ears laid flat against his scalp, a grey-tipped tail brushed over the floor lazily behind him as he moved to keep going, to milk every last drop out of you, but Neuvillette reached down and took him by the metal collar now pressing flush against his throat. There was a low, drawn-out whine as he was dragged up and away from your pussy, but Neuvillette’s cruelty was limited to you.
“We spent hours talking about what to do with you, when he first brought you home.” He spoke absent-mindedly, muttering against your throat as he guided Wriothesley onto his knees. Even at only a fraction of his full height, he was tall enough to loom over you, to replace your limited world with a towering shadow of black fur and white teeth. He was panting, his chin glistening with slick and drool, what was left of his tattered clothes torn away in a few aggerated swipes of his claws. You’d been wrong, again – not every part of him was unfamiliar. His eyes were still there, the grey clouded and his pupils blown out but still undeniably his. Still fixed entirely on you.
“I thought he should turn you as soon as possible, but he protested, claimed the transformation would be too much for you.” He bowed his head, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. “Between you and I, there might be a chance he’s hoping I’ll give in first. He does his best to hide it, but he tends to sulk whenever I choose to feed from you. I think he’s hoping we might both have to rely on him.”
Clawed hands curled around the arms of his chair, the wood creaking under Wriothesley’s weight. For the first time, you let your eyes drift lower, let yourself take in the massive, pulsing cock standing erect against his lower stomach. It looked too big; like a prop, made to only vaguely resemble the real thing. It looked like it could tear you in half.
“Then again, he might’ve grown fond of the idea of adding another wolf to his pack,” Neuvillette added, as you went limp against him. “We’ll have to see how human you feel when the sun rises.”
It was an awkward position, Wriothesley too tall and Neuvillette too unyielding. He kept one arm wrapped tightly around your midriff as his other hand drifted into the limited space between your body and Wriothesley’s, his pale hand curling around Wriothesley’s thick shaft and carefully lining it up with your dripping cunt. Wriothesley bucked into the stimulation, his body lurching forward and his head nuzzling into the dip of your shoulder. You felt his breath, warm and humid, fan over your chest, then the rough reverberation of his voice against your skin. “Mate.” It was more of a groan than anything, one long breath that seemed to escape from some unseen vault. It was his voice, but there was something underneath it, too – something more guttural than you would ever want on top of you. “Mine.”
“Ours,” Neuvillette corrected, tightening his hold and drawing you close. You couldn’t see him, but you could feel it, pressing against your throat as his fangs reclaimed lost territory. “Our precious, misguided little pet.”
Wriothesley thrust into you as Neuvillette drove his teeth into your skin, both men piercing you simultaneously. Too stunned to scream, you could only silently wonder who would end you first.
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poeticmystery · 4 months
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:・゚✧:・゚ RAY OF SUNSHINE (p.j.)
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summary : in which percy jackson feels attached, in some way, to a girl he just met.
w.c. : about 1k
a/n : part 2! thank you for all the support on the firsg part, there will be more to follow!
this is also on my wattpad: poet1cmystery
warning(s) : none!
| riordanverse masterlist | navigation | part 1 |
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*ੈ✩‧₊˚
percy awoke near midnight, having slept for almost seven hours. he had been woken up by a nightmare, just like usual. The stars hanging in the sky painted a serene picture for him as he stared out through the small infirmary window, the view calming him quickly. for once, the camp around him was quiet. no bustling demigods, no chattering kids. just quiet. 
the son of poseidon sat up, looking around more. he was never in here for as long of a time as he had been currently. he never noticed how old the withering wood was, its brown shade falling to a reddish-beige. they were surrounded by magic but still couldn't repair the infirmary. huh. he could definitely see the imprints the apollo children had made, even just in the small room he was in. there was an overall sense of brightness, despite the late hour it was. it felt welcoming, in a way. 
he debated on going back to his cabin now or staying here until morning. the harpies would be out, so that definitely wouldn't be preferable. still, could he really stay for this long? y/n had told him to stay until he felt better...
so, he stayed, in hopes of seeing her again. he was still curious about the connection he felt to her. curious about why her eyes felt so familiar. he tried to rack his brain for answer, yet nothing came to mind. there was a faint image of those eyes on a little girl, their e/c being illuminated by a ray of sunshine. but that was where the memory faded. nothing around the young girl seemed familiar, none of the scenery. he couldn’t even tell if the memory was indoors.
percy noticed the lack of movement, even inside of the infirmary. apollo kids had to sleep too. the only sound he heard was the low chirping of crickets, occasionally seeing one of their tiny bodies hopping by, being illuminated by the fading moonlight.
the lack of light was seamlessly replaced by an orange hue, accompanying the rising sun in the distance. it must’ve been closer to morning than what he had thought. well, that just meant he got to see this mysterious girl sooner.
the stars faded slowly, as if running from the intruding daylight.
y/n walked into the infirmary, smiles and all, the view causing a small grin to even grow to his own face. the optimistic attitude she often boar wasn’t new, but still found a way to draw him in.
“oh!” she looked surprised to see him, was that bad? should he have left when we woke up? the wide smile said otherwise, but he was beginning to think it was permanent, regardless of the situation. his mind raced, and he didn’t know why. it wasn’t like this with anyone else that’d help him. why her?
“i didn’t realize you were still here. are you feeling better at least?” she questioned, concern lacing her features.
“uh, yeah,” he swallowed, trying to get the ugly taste out of his mouth, “ ‘m feeling a lot better. thank you.”
“it’s what i’m here for,” she replied cheerily, spinning on her heel and moving away from the open doorway.
 he gave it a few minutes, then slowly sat up. as the blanket fell from his shoulders, a sudden wave of cool air reminded him of the shirt he wasn’t wearing.  his eyes roamed the enclosed area, searching for the familiar orange fabric of his camp-tee. then, he saw it hanging on a plastic hanger, seemingly clean. he took slightly shaky steps towards it, eventually shrugging it over his shoulders, letting it fall past his arms. 
he walked out of the room he was in, slightly zoned out. unfortunately for him, he bumped into the girl he had been trying to figure out.
“ah, shit, sorry y/n,” he said quickly, gently reaching to grab her arm to steady her.
she didn’t seem bothered. “it’s alright, are you going?”
he nodded, releasing his grip from her arm. “i’ll see you around?” he asked, hoping the answer was yes. maybe then he could figure out where he knew her from.
“of course, percy.”
her words made him smile, even if she just meant them half-heartedly. (she definitely did, he could tell.) he stepped out into the now fully-risen sun, its rays beating down on him despite the chill held by the autumn air.
immediately, he was greeted by his short, fast-talking friend. the one and only, leo valdez.
“where have you been?” the boy exclaimed, his head tilting slightly upwards to meet percy’s eyes.
“dude, it’s been like a day,” percy said flatly.
almost on instinct, percy checked his pockets for his trusted pen. no matter how long he had had it, he still wasn’t used to the fact he couldn’t lose it. just like he suspected, it was safely sitting in the back pocket of his jeans.
percy’s gaze wondered back towards the infirmary one last time, before quickly flicking back to leo, trying to listen to what the boy was discussing as they walked further and further away.
he noticed leo looking at him expectantly, and just nodded his head, seemingly agreeing to what had just been said. “yeah, of course.”
“you weren’t listening, were you?” leo groans.
“not at all,” the boy admitted, not wanting to lie to one of his closest friends.
“tell me again?” he offered, smirking sheepishly down at leo, who rolled his eyes. still, the boy repeated what he had said, this time earning a real response from percy.
the two boys conversed, occasionally shoving each other around as they walked over the dirt pathways winding between the camp cabins. eventually, they heard a horn blow, signaling breakfast.
arriving at the pavilion, percy noticed y/n walking towards a table seating annabeth chase, piper mclean, and luke castellan. wait.
luke castellan?
why was she sitting with luke castellan? 
why did percy care? 
he didn’t. right?
no, of course he didn’t. why would he?
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taglist : @iamforeverandalwaystired, lmk if you wanna be added!
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thebeesatemyknees · 7 months
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141 with a gf who has been cheated on in the past and it kind of destroyed her confidence?? Like just how they would prove themselves as true and how they would go about a relationship with her. Love your writing, friend!!!! <3
141 with a (fem)partner who's been cheated on in the past
Some headcanons about things that Simon Ghost Riley, John Price, Kyle Gaz Garrick and Johnny Soap MacTavish do to reassure you after learning that your previous partner/s cheated on you.
Word count: 1k || No warnings. || Reader: FEM reader. Pronouns "you", but feminine terms used ("missus, girl, lady") [I could make a gender neutral version too if anyone would want it!]
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Simon Riley, who, half joking half serious, reminds you that he’s a difficult bastard to get close to. So you don’t have to worry. I mean, look how much time it took you to make him open up and let you become part of his life. He has a hard time openly admitting how he feels about you and how he only has place for you in his heart and mind. So instead, he jokes that you’re the only person on this planet, crazy enough to approach him. Though sometimes, when you have late night conversations, he admits in a hushed voice, that as much as he enjoyed the solitary life, leaving it behind for a lifetime with you was the best decision he's ever made.
Although he prefers to avoid crowded places, he starts taking you to pubs more often to prove that he’s right about being unapproachable. It also gives you a reason to dress up all pretty, so he can shamelessly compliment you and tease you about wanting to show you off.
If someone is silly enough to walk up to you two and try chatting him up, he immediately cuts it short, not even trying to be polite – “No, we’re alright. We’re busy.” And if they’re persistent, he uses his “Lieutenant Ghost” voice on them – “You’re interrupting my date. With my girl.” He keeps his hand on you for the rest of the night.
He asks you if he should get your name tattooed on his arm and you can’t tell if he’s joking or not. But he is dead serious. Have you seen his tattoos? Not to be judgemental, but… He wouldn’t mind tattooing your name on himself once he thinks you’re the one.
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John Price, who relies on communication. He asks you to talk to him whenever something feels wrong – whether it’s caused by your thoughts or something he’s done. But he doesn’t just wait for you to bring the issue up either. He’s a true leader and he’s very observant. Sometimes he notices the heavy thoughts starting to cloud your mind before you can even cotton on. He’s also really good at reading between the lines. If you ever do that self-sabotaging thing, where you ask his opinion about other women on the street or on the internet, he immediately gives you a stern look and, without even looking at the lass you’re pointing at, gives you a lengthy pep talk. Why would he even need to form an opinion about another woman’s appearance, when he only cares about you? 
He’s got the patience of a saint when it comes to you. He’s told you what he feels towards you and how you are the only one for him many times already. And he would repeat himself, over and over again. Until he loses his voice.
If he got approached by someone and offered a drink, while you’re hanging out in a pub, he would point towards you and say “I’m alright, but you can buy my lady a drink if you insist,” with a cocky smile on his face.
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Kyle Garrick, who attacks you with “I love you”-s and compliments whenever you start doubting yourself. Literally. Won’t let you finish your self-derogatory comments, even if they’re well hidden in what you’re saying. Starts yelling ILYs from afar. Then once he gets closer, he grabs you and holds you close, repeating it against your ear until you laugh from the sensation. But he doesn’t ignore your worries. He often sits you down so that the two of you can have a conversation about your feelings, your boundaries, behaviours and things he can do to assure you of his loyalty.
He has pictures of you everywhere and he’s proud to show you off. There are polaroids of you alone and both of you together in his wallet, in his car’s sun visor, in the pocket of his uniform. You’re his phone’s wallpaper. He posts pictures of you on social media. Obviously, he does all that while making sure it won’t affect your safety. And as for him bragging about you, you probably learnt about that from Price. What you don’t know though, is that he went out of his way to introduce you to his captain in hopes of Price telling you how often he talks about you. And only you.
If someone tried to chat him up while he’s with you, he would give them the nastiest, most offended glare possible. He looks at them, at you, at them, at you… He throws a simple “Uhh, no thank you,” while he grabs your hand and pulls it to his chest, using it to ground himself. Before the person can even turn away, he’s looking at you with a “can you believe this shit” stare. He gets upset for the both of you.
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Johnny MacTavish, who’s physically glued to you.While off duty, he doesn't give you much space for doubts or anxieties cuz he follows you everywhere. You’re going to run some errands? He’s coming with you. He’s going to run some errands? Can you please come with him…? One time, when you went to the toilet in the middle of the night, you found him sitting half-awake on the floor next to the bathroom door. Later, he can’t even explain why he did it. He wasn’t even fully conscious. It was pure instinct – you go, he follows.
He takes you to buy matching rings. You can take your relationship at your own pace, but others don’t have to know it. He’s more than happy to pretend to be already married to you. Especially when he’s deployed away from home. And when he comes back, he proudly shows you a tan line on his ring finger, proving he’s been wearing it the whole time.
If someone approaches him and offers him a drink, he scoffs and tells them that HIS MISSUS can buy him his drinks just fine, thank you very much. If you’re there with him, he turns to you and, before the person can walk away, he starts playfully flirting with you, saying you can take him home if you buy him a drink. If you’re for some reason not there, he immediately calls you (or at least texts you if he’s with the lads) and proudly tells you about how clever his response was.
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I hope that some loose headcanons like these are alright.
Also, if this happened to you – I'm really sorry and I wish you all the best! And if anyone needs to hear it: remember, the fault is never in the person who got cheated on but the one who cheats. Screw them. You deserve to be treated kindly.
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quintetz · 14 days
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Matteo being grumpy/snarky to everyone but reader and the other slytherin boys are shocked when they see it🤍☺️
୨ৎ Theo and Pansy had often joked about the possibility of Mattheo Riddle being bipolar, making reference to his often and unpredictable mood swings. Right now, the two of them sat in the Slytherin common room with the rest of their friends—you included, snuggled up in a woollen blanket by the window and it’s raging storm—relaying the events of an outburst from Mattheo earlier that day.
“He threw the textbook at me! Totally uncalled for!” She rolled her eyes and mimicked the action of throwing the book for added effect. “Alright, tossed it. At my desk.” She corrects after a raised eyebrow from Blaise. “But still!”
“Blew me off when I tried to talk to him about the match next week, he usually loves to talk about that shit. Looked at me like he wanted me dead,” Theo adds.
“Someone needs to give that boy a good punch to the jaw.” Lorenzo says, laughing at his own joke.
The three of them throw around a couple more insults and tatter on about his foul mood before the main door swings open. “Speak of the fucking devil…” Blaise mutters, Pansy hits his shoulder. Mattheo emerges from the doorway, the expression on his face painting the exact picture Pansy and Theo had described before: like he wanted to kill. He scans the room with a scowl until he locks eyes with a scrawny blonde. He’s mad, he’s really mad.
“Maybe we should step in, he’s gonna pummel the poor kid,” you murmur.
“Who’s we? I’m not getting anywhere near Mattheo while he’s like this.” Pansy says, gripping your arm as the two of you watch the hostile interaction between the two boys. The blonde is so red he looks like he’ll explode any moment. Mattheo exclaims something that makes the boy jump, Pansy stifles a laugh by burying her face in your shoulder.
Blaise pokes his head over Pansy’s shoulder, “I’ll buy you that book if you try to intervene.”
After some mental deliberation, you agree to his proposal—the book is worth it—and snake your way over to the argument. “Matt?” the word comes out shaky and awkward, Pansy laughs and Blaise gives a sarcastic thumbs-up when you look back at them for reassurance. “Mattheo?”
The brunette whips his head around, frown still present. His face flashes with realization, and the almost-tangible aggression coming from him melts away almost instantaneously. He gestures for the scared blonde to get lost, smiles at you like nothing ever happened and replies to you with your name.
“Matt, is everything okay?” you ask, eyebrow raised.
“Everything is absolutely great,” he pulls you into a hug, “especially now that you’re here, my pretty girl..” you look over Mattheo’s shoulder and watch your friends stare at the scene—or rather, lack thereof—that just wrapped up before them. Blaise so owes you more than a book.
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—okay so i really hate this but i wanted to post something anyways… i’m so sorry anon, i will absolutely redo this if you’d like
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livlaughloveluke · 15 days
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underwater moments w/ Poseidon!reader x Luke
𝗦𝗔𝗧𝗨𝗥𝗡 - 𝗟.𝗖
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daughter of poseidon! reader x luke castellan 🪸
[headcannons]
summary: you’re dating the famous hermes boy 💘
warnings: no betrayal luke 🥳, percy is a lil bro, fem reader, not all of these are underwater moments
a/n- i’m back for now guys!!
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sneaking out for starlit swims !!
you and luke spend your nights secretly swimming under the dark waters of camp half-blood, while the moon grazes the surface and turns the black depths glittery. you and him try to remain quiet, but how could you resist laughter when he almost accidentally drowned, twice?!
the famous underwater kisses <3
with little privacy at the kid-filled camp, you and luke rarely found moments alone. all you had time for were sneaky, quick kisses in between planned activities. as a child of poseidon, you found a way to solve this intimate problem—underwater kisses. creating an air bubble under the lake allowed for a moment with no curious glances—at least from most. (the fishies and a certain pesky brother often interrupt)
going pearl diving!
luke likes to sunbathe in the gleaming sun, resting on the docks while you splash around in the blue lake. you dive down deep, searching for the prettiest pearls underwater and placing him on the wood surface next to him. this could go on for hours, you entertained by the adventure and luke just happy to be in your presence. the next day, luke graciously gifted you a gorgeous necklace made with the pearls you excavated.
surfing and paddle boarding 🏄‍♀️
while the calm waters don’t offer many waves, every once in a while you like to manipulate the liquid so you can surf. not to mention, you love to instruct luke, too. he’s not the best, but he’s willing to give anything a try. (if we’re being honest, he hates it. he hates constantly falling off the board and sharply coming into contact with the water, but he’d do anything if it meant you were happy.)
in contrast, he loves to paddle board with you. it’s more gentle, and he can actually talk to you while in the water.
the olive theory! (but with cherries)
definitelyyyy the type of guy to pretend he doesn’t like cherries just because he knows you love them more. every morning at breakfast, he slides you his small fruit cup with only the cherries remaining, and you eat it up every time. unbeknownst to you, he’s only doing this to see you smile. he loves the way your lips curl up into a smile when you eat them, the juices staining your lips with a shade of red. he would give up anything to see you smile like that. 
carrying a waterproof digital camera around 📸
he loves loves LOVES to take photos of you! whether your swimming in the lake or picking strawberries in the fields, he’s by your side with the camera directed towards you. he’s the number one candid picture taker! and when you ask why, he usually presents you with some dumb excuse or pickup line to conceal the fact that he’s totally whipped for you. 
“ew, stoppp! i look so bad right now! why do you like taking so many photos anyway?”
“dunno. you’re the subject of all my dreams, sweetheart.”
late night beach bonfires
singing, laughing, and cuddling by the warmth of a campfire with all your friends is a weekly occurrence for you and luke. it feels like you’re both just normal teens, living life with no fear of monsters attacking or angry greek gods. plus, he makes BOMB s’mores. 
CHAOTIC game nights with percy 
attempting to play charades with your little brother, but overall he just gets mad and rage quits because you couldn’t guess the word. oh, and we can’t forget the craziest uno nights. you and percy arguing over the rules while luke just stands awkwardly in the corner.
“you can’t place a draw two on a draw four! it doesn’t work that way!”
“yes you can!! suck it up and draw your six cards!”
“uh, guys…? 🧍‍♂️”
the annual cabin decoration contest ! (yes, i made this up)
when that time rolls around, you and percy are DETERMINED to have the best cabin. you hang up seashells, scatter around the prettiest dried coral on shelves, and buy fairy lights for a cozy atmosphere. luke watches from afar as you and percy playfully argue whether a lana del rey poster would “fit the theme.” to be fair, it was a tunnel under OCEAN blvd poster.
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[luke masterlist] ★ [request here] ★ [poseidon moodboard]
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moonstruckme · 8 months
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not sure if you’re taking requests buttttt poly!marauders but they’re kinda overprotective bfs and she sneaks out to go to a party with marlene or her girlfriends but they find out and show up at the party 💞
Hi don't worry, I am! I think it should show on the requests page linked in my pinned post, but please let me know if it doesn't, I'm still figuring tumblr out and often mess up! I hope this is alright honey, I tried to go for the angst but honestly the more I write the more suspicious I become of my inability to write our boys being anything other than soft with reader! I'll try to work on it but in the meantime I hope you enjoy this <33
cw: mention of concussion symptoms, including nausea, nothing intense or even very descriptive though
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 906 words
You’re aware that the internet had said you were supposed to avoid bright lights, loud sounds, and movement when Remus had looked it up after an unfortunate fall that morning. Just like you’re aware that when your boyfriends left you at your apartment a few hours ago, they’d been trusting you to follow those instructions. But you’re also aware that the internet had led you all to believe your concussion was mild, and that Marlene only has one birthday a year. Damned if you were going to miss it. 
So yeah, you feel a bit queasy as your eyes struggle to track the movement and voices around you, but that’s nothing compared to the contentment of being with your friends. Lily has assigned herself the role of your caretaker, checking that you’re alright every few minutes and shushing anyone who raises their voice too loud around you, and Marlene has attached herself to your side, telling you how much she appreciates you in between beer-scented hiccups. 
“And you’re so nice to come tonight,” she’s saying now, brushing her fingers clumsily but sweetly through your hair. “I can’t tell you how much—uh oh.” 
You have a premonition of ill fate even before the hair on the back of your neck stands up, and you follow Marelene’s unfocused gaze to the curly-haired boy coming towards you.
“Happy birthday, Marls,” he says, his smile only appearing slightly strained, before he turns to you. “Hey, sweetheart. Let’s go home, yeah?”
“Jamie,” you say quietly, and Lily and Marlene leave the couch to give you as much privacy as a party allows. “What are you doing here?”
“Everyone here’s been posting, and you’re in the background of half the pictures.” His smile slips as he crouches in front of you, disappointment in his eyes. “You know you’re supposed to be resting,” he says softly. “C’mon, let’s go.” 
You’re glad that he’s here instead of Remus or Sirius, who surely wouldn’t be as careful about not embarrassing you. James is less stern than the others, and though you feel a bit guilty for doing so, you press that to your advantage. 
“I haven’t drank anything but water,” you say. “That’s gotta count for something, right? And look.” You brush your hair behind your ear, showing him the earplugs you’d put in before arriving. “I’m being careful, see? I’m alright, Jamie, and it’s Marlene’s birthday. Let’s just stay, both of us, okay?”
James looks nearly apologetic. “Remus and Sirius are waiting in the car.” 
You groan, but allow James to pull you to your feet, waving goodbye to your friends with a pout. He supports more of your weight than you really need him to as he walks you outside, where Remus sits in the drivers’ seat of the idling car. Dread settles, along with dull resignation, in your stomach. 
Sirius is in the backseat and you hope James will get in first, but he lifts you in before him, placing you between two of your three upset boyfriends. You can’t look at any of them, allowing James to buckle your seatbelt for you as an oppressive silence, worse than the bass that had brutalized your head inside Marlene’s, stretches out between you. 
True to form, Sirius is the first to breach it. 
“What the hell were you thinking?”
You sigh. “I’m sorry.” 
“You have a concussion! All you had to do was stay home and rest. That website said that lights and loud music—say, the sort of things you’d find at a party—would only make things worse.” 
Normally, you’d argue with him. No matter how hopeless it seems, no matter how obvious it is that Sirius is going to win, you can always meet him head-on and at least make your point. But tonight, with your head throbbing and something about your very being feeling fundamentally wrong, you can’t muster up the energy. 
“I know,” you say. 
Sirius goes silent at the acquiescence in your voice, and he looks at Remus in the rear-view mirror, unsure of how to proceed. James puts a hand on your knee, a tiny gesture of comfort even though he’s upset with you too. The motivation that had driven you to Marlene’s and through the party is wearing off, and you feel suddenly, embarrassingly teary. 
“Do you feel sick?” Remus speaks for the first time, and though his voice is calm, the absence of his usual terms of endearment leave no doubt that you’re still in trouble. 
You clear your throat of the tears that are trying to clog it. “A little.” 
“We’re bringing you to our place to rest.” It’s not a question. “We can go get some things from your place tomorrow, but tonight you can just wear our stuff. Think you can eat something before bed?” 
It’s worse that he’s being kind to you. You’d been prepared for a lecture, but being taken care of is worse. It brings the vulnerability you’ve felt since the frightening pain and dizziness of that morning to the surface, and you keep your face turned towards your lap as your eyes become wet. “Yeah, I think so,” you say, and your voice cracks slightly when you add, “I’m sorry.” 
Sirius makes a sympathetic, pained sound from beside you, and James abandons all pretense of anger, tucking your head under his chin. 
“We’ll talk about it later,” Remus says, a bit more gently. “For now, just try to relax.” 
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empress-simps · 23 days
Note
for remus, maybe a fic where he has a crush on fem!slytherin reader, and maybe the rest of the gang disapproves (at least initially) because of the silly house rivalry between gryffindor and slytherin? hopefully they’ll warm up to her because she’s actually really sweet and likes remus back, and they see how good for him she is :)
Hi darlingg! Thank you for this request, this is so adorable, and it was so fun to write :) I somehow made it a bit angsty...sorry about that I got carried away. Hope you enjoy! Pictures are from pinterest, credits to the owner!
Beyond The Surface
Pairing: Remus Lupin x Fem! Slytherin! Reader CW: Sirius being dramatic, Remus getting angry, and Language
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He never really planned to fall in love. Remus thinks it would be better if he just lives his life in solitude; away from the confusing and complicated world of romantic relationships.
He doesn’t think anyone should bear the responsibility of having a werewolf boyfriend. Remus wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if he even touched a single hair on your body during that time, he desperately tries to convince himself that his friends and their future children will be enough to warm his heart who secretly yearns to have his own family.
‘It’s for the best, they wouldn’t suffer because of me.’ Remus thought, being the selfless person he was. Although, his plans that he so desperately tried to put up all came crumbling down when you came into the picture.
He didn’t think of it much at first. Remus thought it was just a simple crush that would go away in about three days or so. He was completely wrong.
“Remus Lupin, right? I’m Y/n Rosier, we’re assigned partners in potions.”
You sat beside him, beaming a smile that Remus was certain you were a gift for him from the Gods above. Merlin- you were simply breath taking. That was the first time he felt butterflies on his stomach, feeling his cheeks heat up as you offered a handshake.
“N-nice to meet you, Rosier.” He took your soft hands into his rough, and scarred ones. Shaking it as he desperately tries to ignore the sparks that seemed to go off inside him. Your face grimaced as your last name rolled off his tongue.
“Y/n is fine.” Remus nods, noticing your reaction. He was wondering how someone like you managed to survive other annoying Slytherins as your housemates.
“Alright then, Y/n. Call me Remus, yeah?”
That marks the beginning of an unlikely friendship of a Gryffindor half-blood with a Slytherin pure blood.
“Shall we begin?”
“Alright, but you lead. My skills are no good in potion making.” He jokes, making a small chuckle escape your throat. “I am quite aware.” She teases.
Being partnered with him for a Potions project meant that you would often meet up in the library, spending long hours sitting beside each other in silence, flipping page after page as Remus occasionally puts back books but returning with 5 more.
“Remmy, look here.” You pointed, not noticing how Remus blushed at his newfound nickname as he leaned to your seat, placing one arm on the back of your chair, his tall frame nearly engulfing you as he reads the contents of the page you found interesting.
He suddenly pales, his eyes transfixed on the title of the page. “Wolfsbane potion…” He whispers, eyes scanning the page quickly before looking at you. You hummed, flipping into another page to see how to make the said potion.
“Right, I figured we should make this for our project. What do you think? I think Polyjuice potion is a tad bit boring, hm?” She mused, seeking his opinion on the matter.
Remus parted his mouth to speak, yet the words seem to vanish at the back of his throat. You shot him a worried look, “Do you not like it? You could say so, don’t pretend nothing is wrong, Remmy.”
He blinks, trying to compose himself. “Ah, no-nothing’s wrong. It’s just that…”
You raised your eyebrows curiously, urging him to continue. “What? You know someone who’s a werewolf?” She jokes, trying to lighten the atmosphere as she lightly elbows him.
“I do.” He chokes out, the confession was unexpected, even to him. Remus doesn’t even know why on Earth he’s about to tell you one of his darkest and deepest secrets. It was probably because of your warm and inviting aura. It’s like you wouldn’t judge anyone based on first impressions, appearance, and what you’ve heard about them until you can see for yourself.
Remus felt like he could trust you, and his instincts are almost never wrong.
“Well, maybe the potion we’ll brew can help them?” You offered a smile.
“It certainly would be of help to me.”
You stilled; your hand that was about to get your quill hovered as you looked at him in shock.
“You’re a werewolf?” You whispered quietly; eyes that were surprised stared into his nervous, amber ones. Remus could only nod, an inkling doubt and regret slowly crept up to him. Did he make the right decision? Was he wrong this time? Would you hold it against him?
Your face turned serious, clasping his hand on the table with yours, you looked at him in the eye. “Your secret is safe with me; I would never tell it to anyone. If it helps, I will even make an unbreakable vow, Remus.”
He widened his eyes, “N-no! It’s alright, I trust you, Y/n.” You visibly relaxed, smiling lightly, squeezing his hand, a soft look was sent his way.
“Thank you for trusting me, Remus. If you’d like, I’ll brew you a supply of wolfsbane from time to time.”
If Remus wasn’t in love before that, he certainly is now.
“Out of all the people you could’ve chose to like it was a Rosier?!” Sirius screeched, a horrified look on his face as he grabbed Remus’s shoulder and looked at him straight in the eyes. The said boy frowned “What about it?”
Sirius blanched, “Are you daft, Moons?” He threw his hands up in the air, looking at the rest of the marauders and Lily, wanting them to side with him. Lily’s lips pressed into a thin line; she does not quite agree with Sirius but there’s still a possibility. It doesn’t help the fact that you are a Slytherin; the house that reeks of cunning pure-blooded wizards.
Peter looked anywhere to just not meet the eyes of Remus, clearly uncomfortable. While James frowned, a troubled look on his face as he clasped Lily’s hand. “The Rosier family… they’re not exactly known for their…,” he started, but Sirius cut him off.
“Rosiers are evil! Slytherins! Pureblood Supremacists! Death Eaters!”
Remus frowns, reading the room and the reactions of his friends. The message was clear without words: none of them supported Remus’s interest in a Slytherin, a Rosier no less.
“Give her a chance, she’s different.” Remus tried to make his friends listen to him. Sirius scoffed, rolling his eyes. James sighed, looking at Remus. “Moony, it’s just… We never thought you would fancy a Slytherin.” Remus pursed his lips, “Yeah, I never thought you and Lily would end up together but here we are.” James grimaced at his words.
“There’s tons of girls who fancy you, Moony.” Peter tells him. Remus frowned, feeling annoyance stir inside him. “They’re not her, Wormtail. All I’m saying is that Lily and you blokes should give her a chance before you make assumptions.” He spat, glaring at Sirius before leaving the room.
“Rem? Mon amour, what’s wrong?” She frowns, placing her book down as Remus entered the library, heading straight to her usual place but the window. Remus sighs, shaking his head. He couldn’t possibly tell you what happened, how Sirius thought you were just those pesky Slytherins they pull pranks on.
“They do not like me.” She stated, looking down with a frown as she fiddled with her thumbs.
“Honey, it’s not your fault.”
“I know, amour.”
Remus felt his lips press into a thin line, gently taking your hands in his, trying to stop your nervous habit. “They’re still wrapping their heads around it. They’ll come around, don’t worry about it love.” You sighed shakily, “I hope so.”
Remus traced shapes across the back of her hand, “Anything interesting happened today?”
“Evan and I got into a fight; said I was a blood traitor…” You trailed off, noticing how Remus’s jaw tightened and his stare hardened. “But it was alright, we made up. He just told me to be careful.” To say Remus was surprised was an understatement. “He couldn’t be angry at his twin sister for a long time.” She smiles.
“Black! What the fuck did you do?!” Remus roars, grabbing a fistful of the said boy’s shirt, pushing him against the wall as James tried to pull him off, “Come on, Moons-“
“Don’t bloody touch me, James!” He bellows, pushing off the Potter boy who stumbled away, shock evident in his features. Peter quickly got up from his bed, “Moony, why are you so angry? What did he do?” He drops shoves Sirius off as he stared at his friends.
“It was you guys who pulled a prank on her right? “Remus’s eyes brimmed with unshed tears, pointedly looking at Sirius. “Well congratulations, she’s being treated by Madame Pomfrey right now.”
Sirius felt shame and guilt ate him up. The prank was never supposed to go that far.
“Ever wondered why I was suddenly so calm during the full moon? It’s all thanks to her. She makes me batches of wolfsbane potion every month, without fail.”
James choked, “You told her?”
“I did”
“What if she tells everyone?” Peter frowns, concerned for Remus.
“If she wanted to, then the whole school would’ve already known, she even suggested an unbreakable vow.” Remus uttered out, sitting at his bed, looking away from them “Some kind of friends you guys are. I care about her, and if you hurt her, you hurt me too.”
Sirius cautiously approached him, “Moons, I’m sorry.” He began. James placed a hand on his shoulder, “I know, we’re knobheads. Sorry, Moony.” Peter nods, “We messed up, it won’t happen again.”
“Don’t apologize to me, apologize to her.”
“We will, Moony.”
An hour has passed after you got treated by Madame Pomfrey, you wanted to leave as you already felt alright but she insisted you stay for an hour or two just so she could monitor you. Having no choice but to oblige.
“Love?” Your ears perked up, the sound of Remus’ voice calling out to you. You turned and smiled at his direction, although suddenly dropping it as you saw the rest of the Marauders and Lily following him.
Trying to alleviate the awkward atmosphere, Sirius pulls out a bouquet of flowers. “Remus told us you like Tulips…” You were about to take it but stopped, James seemed to notice this. “It’s not jinxed, or anything like that.” You bit your lip, silently looking at Remus as if asking was it safe, he nods. “I was there when they picked it out love.” You finally took the bouquet, nodding gratefully. “Thank you.”
“We wanted to say we were sorry.” James started; Lily nodded. “It was quite shameful that we made such accusations and judged you before even getting to know you.”
“I’m sorry, Y/n. We…we were just looking out for Moony.” Sirius sighed; shame visible in his features.
“I understand, I probably would have done the same. I’d also look out for the people I care about.” You softly replied. “It’s okay, I forgive all of you.” You looked at them.
James stepped forward, “We hope you can give us a chance to make it up to you.” Sirius cleared his throat, “And maybe, if you’re up for it, join us for a butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks?” His attempt at a smile was hopeful.
Your lips curved into a genuine smile, your body slowly becoming relaxed. “I’d like that,”
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pucksandpower · 8 months
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Oooh the grid kids series is pure joy! I think it's really cool idea, especially because the drivers spend so much time around one another. Can i request one where maybe back in the day, rbr!seb and y/n were the grid kids of like mark and michael and jenson and back to present times, seb's grid kids are weirded out to see jenson and mark treat seb and y/n as their grid kids please. If that makes sense
Grid Kids: Gentlemen, a Short View Back to the Past
Sebastian Vettel x wife!Reader x platonic!drivers
Summary: once upon a time, the grid parents were grid kids themselves
Series Masterlist
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When We Were Young
“Oi lovebirds! Stop canoodling in the garage, will ya?” Mark Webber chuckles, teasingly nudging Sebastian as you blush, having been caught stealing a quick kiss with your boyfriend in the middle of the chaotic paddock.
Michael, ever the protective figure, chimes in, “Leave them alone, Mark. It’s sweet. Remember when we were young and in love?” He winks at Sebastian, who grins, clearly relishing in having backup.
Jenson, leaning against a tire stack, chuckles, “Speak for yourself. Some of us still have it.” He sends you a playful wink and you laugh.
Sebastian wraps an arm around you, “Honestly, with the three of you as mentors, I’m surprised I’ve learned anything about racing.”
You smirk, “Maybe they're preparing you for the important race — the race of life?”
Mark snorts, “Deep, Y/N. Very deep.”
Michael smiles, a nostalgic look in his eyes, “You know, Y/N, you remind me a lot of my wife back in the day. Always grounding us racers, making sure our heads don’t get too big.”
Jenson nods in agreement, “True that. You have a way of making sure Seb here doesn’t drift into the clouds.”
Sebastian rolls his eyes, “Oh come on! You guys are just trying to get on Y/N’s good side because she’s the only one who brings proper coffee to the track.”
You giggle, “Guilty as charged. Can’t have my grid parents falling asleep at the wheel now, can I?”
Rain, Rain, Go Away
Sebastian and you stand with Jenson and Mark, sheltering under an awning as rain pours down, delaying the race. Michael ambles over, shaking off his umbrella.
Sebastian grins, “Typical Spa weather, huh?”
Jenson chuckles, “Isn’t it just? Every year I hope for sun by some miracle and every year...” He gestures at the rain dramatically.
You sigh, “I packed for a summer trip. Look at this!” You motion to your very damp sundress.
Mark smirks, “Rookie mistake. Always pack a wetsuit for Spa.”
Michael nods sagely, “And flippers.”
Oh Simple Thing
The smell of grilled meat wafts through the air as Jenson mans the BBQ at his home. You and Sebastian arrive, bringing along a homemade salad and plenty of sides.
“Ah, the dynamic duo!” Mark greets, pulling you into a friendly hug.
Michael points to the salad, “Trust Y/N to ensure we get our greens. Good on you!”
You wink, “Can’t have you all living on steaks and grilled chicken alone.”
As the evening progresses, stories from their early racing days are exchanged, often leading to fits of laughter. At one point, Mark shares an embarrassing story about Sebastian’s rookie mistake during a test session.
Sebastian groans, burying his face in his hands, “Do we have to bring that up again?”
You pat his back sympathetically, “It’s alright, Seb. Everyone has their moments.”
Jenson, taking a sip of his drink, adds, “That’s true. Just remember, no matter how many times they tease you, you’ve got Y/N in your corner. And that’s worth more than anything.”
Prank or Be Pranked
“Seb! Did you move my helmet?” Jenson calls out, rummaging through his locker as the five of you prepare to go karting, his face a picture of confusion.
Sebastian, feigning innocence, replies, “Why would I do that?”
You, smirking, lean in and whisper to Mark, “Five bucks says he put it on the highest shelf.”
Mark grins, “You’re on.”
As Jenson continues his search, he eventually finds his helmet perched high up, just out of reach. Michael, catching on to the prank, laughs, “Looks like our young prodigy here has learned a few tricks.”
Sebastian shrugs, “Consider it ... training. For reflexes and stuff.”
Jenson, using the handle of a dusty broom to retrieve his helmet, retorts, “Wait till you find out what I’ve done with your boots.”
Sebastian’s eyes widen in horror, “You didn’t!”
“This is going to be a long season.” You lean back against the brick wall as the overgrown children in front of you continue to bicker, fighting a smile.
Thanks for the Memories
Jenson, lounging comfortably in the hospitality area, raises an eyebrow as he watches you try to subtly wipe some oil off Sebastian's face. “You sure you’ve got him all cleaned up for the camera?”
You laugh, looking at a sheepish Sebastian who had been poking around his car earlier. “It’s like looking after a kid sometimes. He’s always getting into something.”
Michael chuckles from across the room, “Ah, young love. Sebastian, she’s got your number. But honestly, Y/N, good on you. We older ones have been trying to teach him some discipline.”
Mark smirks. “To be fair, Michael, I recall a certain someone ending up in a pool with his clothes on in Monaco just last year.”
Michael grins mischievously, “That was different. And anyway, Seb, Y/N, don’t get any ideas.”
You playfully roll your eyes, “Trust me, if he ends up in the water, I won’t be the one pushing him.”
Sebastian wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close. “But you’d jump in to save me, right?”
You pretend to ponder, “Hmm, depends on how cold the water is.”
Jenson laughs, “Sebastian, you’ve found your match. But seriously, both of you, cherish these moments. The grid, the races, it’s all fleeting. But the relationships, the memories, they last.”
Michael nods in agreement, “Jenson’s right. One day you’ll be the veterans, guiding the young ones. Remember these days, learn from them.”
Mark clinks his water bottle to yours, “To memories and the journey ahead.”
Flintstones, Meet the Flintstones
Michael leans back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips, “You know, when I started in F1 we didn’t have all this fancy tech and simulations. We relied on instinct.”
Jenson, faking shock, retorts, “Wait, you mean they didn’t have cars back then?”
Sebastian chuckles, glancing at you, “I bet he drove a dinosaur to the track.”
You laugh, “A very fast dinosaur, mind you.”
Mark, trying to keep a straight face, adds, “Michael, be honest. Was your racing suit made of ... loincloth?"
Michael plays along, “Yes and our helmets were carved out of stone.”
You chime in, “I heard they used saber-toothed tigers as pit crews.”
Jenson nods, “Oh, absolutely. And the pit stops? Ten minutes. Had to give the tigers a break.”
Michael rolls his eyes, laughing, “Alright, alright, mock the legend if you must. But remember, young ones, we paved the way.”
Mark grins, “And we’re grateful, old man. But don’t forget, it’s their turn now.”
Sebastian, ever competitive, challenges, “Race you to the track?”
Michael raises an eyebrow, “You sure about that?”
You laugh, “Careful, Seb. He might just bring out his dinosaur.”
Passing the Torch
Michael stands, his presence commanding the room’s attention even without a word spoken. Holding a helmet delicately in his hands, he clears his throat. “In every racer’s life, there comes a time when the tracks call to you a little less, the roar becomes a distant echo, and you realize there’s a world waiting for you outside the paddock.”
He glances over at Sebastian, then to you, emotion shimmering in his eyes. “But before I step into that world, I wanted to leave behind something, a token of gratitude and hope.”
Sebastian’s brow furrows slightly, curiosity evident. “Michael, you’ve already given so much to all of us …”
Michael interrupts with a soft chuckle, “Seb, always impatient! Let me finish.”
He then looks at you, his gaze warm and fatherly, “Y/N, you may not race on the track, but you’ve raced in all our hearts, guiding, supporting, laughing, and cheering louder than everyone else.”
“Sebastian, Y/N,” Michael continues, his voice imbued with emotion, “This helmet, from my last race, isn’t just a piece of equipment. It’s a symbol. A legacy.”
Gently placing the helmet on the table, he pushes it towards the two of you. “It’s about the weight of responsibility, the dreams it carries, the hopes it’s seen, and the love it’s felt.”
The room is silent, the magnitude of the gesture palpable.
Sebastian, clearly moved, speaks up, voice choked with emotion, “Michael, this ... this is ... I’m not sure if we can ever fill the space you leave behind.”
Michael smiles, placing a hand on Sebastian’s shoulder, then moving to hug you tightly. “That’s the thing about spaces. They evolve. They change. You two won’t fill my space. You’ll create your own.”
Pulling away, he raises his glass, “To new beginnings, to timeless legacies, and to family. Always to family.”
Back to the Future
As Max saunters into the room, he stops short, eyebrows raised in surprise. Jenson is teasing Sebastian, ruffling his hair like he’s a teenager, while Mark playfully nudges Y/N’s arm, offering her a drink.
Max blinks a few times, trying to process the scene. “Is ... is Jenson giving Seb a noogie?”
George peers over from his conversation with Lando, both their eyes widening. “It looks like it ... and Y/N’s being drawn into some sort of mock arm wrestling with Mark. What alternate reality did we walk into?”
Charles, mouth agape, chuckles, “It’s like watching a nature documentary: Here we observe the older generation asserting their playful dominance over the younger one.”
Lando giggles, nudging George. “Mate, should we jump in? Even the odds a bit?”
Before George can answer, Mick, who’s been observing silently, leans in. “Guys, it’s kind of sweet. You remember the stories they've told about the old days? This is just ... history repeating itself.”
Max, still trying to wrap his head around the scene, shakes his head with a laugh. “Never thought I’d see the day when Seb gets his hair messed up and doesn’t immediately fix it.”
Lance calls out, “Maybe we should start taking notes. This might be us in a few years.”
Grid Kids and Grand-Grid Kids
Charles saunters over to Mark and Jenson, holding up a race boot he’d just had signed by both of them. “Thanks for this, mates. It will be a special addition to my collection.”
Mark pats Charles on the back, “Anything for our grand-grid kid.”
Charles stops mid-stride, turning to look at Mark with a puzzled expression. “Your what now?”
Jenson chuckles, handing Lando a signed cap. “Didn’t Seb and Y/N mention? Since they’re your grid parents and they’re our grid kids ... well, that makes you our grand-grid kids.”
Lando bursts into laughter, while George, overhearing the exchange, raises an eyebrow. “Wait, so we’re like ... the second generation of grid offspring? This is getting complicated.”
Mick leans in with a smirk, “Hold on. So if I’m following this logic properly, that would mean double the birthday gifts, right?”
Jenson grins, “Well, perhaps but it also means double the expectations on the track.”
Lance playfully rolls his eyes, “Great, double the pressure. Just what we needed.”
Max joins the banter, “Are there grand-grid kid initiation rites we should know about? Because I’ve seen old photos of Seb and Y/N with you guys and let’s just say that fashion has come a long way.”
Mark feigns shock, “You’re dissing our style from back in the day? Careful, young one.”
Charles, cocking an eyebrow, shoots back at Max, “Especially considering the only thing in your closet is Red Bull merch.”
The group bursts into laughter, Max chuckling and nodding in acknowledgment. “Touche, Leclerc. Touche.”
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