rue! 2007, she/her, audhd, sapphic, ravenclaw, college student
hi! welcome to my blog! ^^ i mostly write for for fun! i have a horrible attention span so lowkey it takes me a while to write stuff :,) i also have social anxiety so i'm sorry if i'm very shy! i post mostly my longer works on ao3 but i'm trying to be more active on here ^^
current wip: duo partner || ben drowned x reader
ao3 || masterlist || requests open
fandoms i write: tf2, harry potter, creepypasta, dbd, homicpher, wolfenstein, pokemon go, IT, halloween (2007), overwatch, castlevania, pulp fiction, house of wax, pulp fiction
⋆˚꩜.ᐟ : including — cutesy hcs!
[౨ৎ] synopsis: alucard tepes as a lover
[♡₊˚ ♕]: her highness's decree: if it wasn't obvious alr I have a thing for soft spoken intelligent, gentleman-like men.
‧₊˚⇢♡ a gentleman doesn't even begin to describe just how sweet he is to you.
considering Alucard was already well-mannered and more than polite before meeting you, once he falls for you (becoming immediately smitten), he's somehow even more so.
His tone becoming impossibly more gentler when talking to you, opening doors for you, pulling your your chair out for you, positioning himself in front of you at the first hint of trouble (even if you're a fighter/magic wielder).
‧₊˚⇢♡ attentive to every facet of your being.
he's very conscious of himself to ensure he isn't just staring at you but you do make it quite hard not to. Whenever you play with your hair in deep thought, the way your smile always meets your eyes, the way you silently gaze into the distance when you reminisce.
It's all so..mesmerizing—you are mesmerizing.
So while it pains the dhampir to have to tear his eyes away from you at times so as not to make you feel uncomfortableit is very tempting to not want to see every expression your beautiful face makes.
‧₊˚⇢♡ calls you "beloved", "dearest" "flower", and "my love."
Alucard is such a naturally affectionate man once he's in love that pet names become second nature to him. However, it still is so cute how he was slightly hesitant to call you anything initially usually referring to you by name—until it just slipped out.
Your breath catches for a moment, looking up at the blond from your place beside him on one of the library's plush velvet settees.
The castle is quiet around you, save for the occasional crackle from the fireplace and the soft rustle of pages turning. Warm afternoon sunlight filters through the tall windows, painting streaks of gold across the bookshelves and illuminating the dust motes drifting lazily through the air.
You'd spent the better part of the afternoon curled up together.
Your book long forgotten in your lap as you leaned comfortably against his shoulder, your head nestled against him while he read.
It was one of your favorite places to be.
Close enough to hear the steady rhythm of his breathing.
You were tracing absent patterns along the edge of your page when Alucard finally spoke. "Would you like some tea, my love?"
The word leaves his lips so naturally that neither of you seem to process it at first.
Your eyes widened slightly and you could feel Alucard stiffen slightly besides you. His gaze lowering from the book in his hand to where your head is resting on his shoulder. An adorable, light blush creeping on his pale cheeks. "Forgive me," he says quietly, setting his book aside perhaps a little too quickly. "I did not mean to presume."
The bashfulness in his voice is almost unfairly sweet, so you straighten slightly, lifting your head from his shoulder to shake your head with a soft smile. "You didn't. I don't mind you calling me that—it's sweet."
For a moment, Alucard simply looks at you. Golden eyes searching your face as though trying to determine whether you're merely being kind. When he realizes you're sincere, some of the tension leaves his shoulders.
Barely noticeable.
"I'm glad," he says quietly. His voice is softer now, the afternoon sunlight catching against the pale strands of his hair as he looks at you, and you're suddenly struck by how unfairly beautiful he is.
Especially like this.
The realization makes your smile widen slightly. "Can I call you something too?"
His brows lift. "Something?"
You nod.
"You wish to give me a pet name?"
"Well, yes."
You tilt your head. "If you're going to call me things like my love and beloved, I think I should get one too."
A quiet laugh escapes him then. "I suppose that is fair."
‧₊˚⇢♡ guides you with a hand at your back through crowded towns, unfamiliar roads and in more sketchy parts of wood
Whether you're walking through a crowded marketplace, entering a room, or simply moving through the halls of the castle together, Alucard always seems to find his place just slightly behind your shoulder.
One hand resting lightly at the small of your back.
Never possessive. More so a subtle, discreet gesture. One that many don't notice on first glance.
Like no matter where you are, he'll make certain nothing reaches you first.
₊˚⇢♡ is constantly making sure you're comfortable.
Perhaps it's because he's spent so much of his life caring for others, and caring for you is not much different nor a chore. Though it's probably because the sweet way you breathe a 'thank you Adrian,' or 'you're always so kind thank you my love.' Has him quick to whatever you need to hear those lovely again.
If you're cold, a cloak is draped over your shoulders before you can mention it.
If you're tired, he's already suggesting you rest.
If you're hungry, he's quietly finding a source of food for you.
Half the time, you don't even realize something was bothering you until he's already taken care of it.
And when you thank so softly like the angel you are?
He simply smiles.
‧₊˚⇢♡ always reaches for you in his sleep.
Alucard sleeps lightly by nature. Years of solitude and danger made certain of that. Yet slowly but surely, after sharing a bed with you, over time it's been increasingly easier to sleep soundly next to you.
Primarily because you fall asleep holding his hand.
You always knew that he carried a weight most people could scarcely imagine. The loss of his parents. His complicated love for his father. The loneliness. The years spent wandering with burdens that were never truly his to carry.
You knew there were nights his sleep wasn't peaceful.
So when you'd first begun sharing a bed, you'd made a habit of reaching for his hand before falling asleep. Not because you were afraid to sleep alone. But because you never wanted him to face even his nightmares alone ever again.
The first time you'd done it, he'd looked almost comforted yet confused. Glancing down at your intertwined fingers before looking back at you. Yet he hadn't pulled away.
And after that, it simply became part of your routine.
Until one evening, months later, as candlelight flickered softly across your shared chambers, Alucard spoke just as you were settling beneath the blankets.
"My love?"
His voice was unusually hesitant.
You immediately looked up from where you'd been adjusting the covers. "Yes?"
For a moment, he seemed almost uncertain.
Golden eyes lowering briefly.
Then—
"Would you be comfortable with..." He paused, clearly searching for the words. "Me holding you while we slept?"
A warm smile glaced your lips as your nodded, "Of course, sweetheart."
Once settled into bed, Alucard's arm settled carefully around your waist as though he were handling something precious. Slowly relaxing into you only after you had done so yourself, and once he did, it was almost as though he could finally breathe properly.
Now, months later, Alucard rarely even realizes he's doing it.
You'll wake in the middle of the night to find yourself tucked securely against his chest. One arm wrapped around your waist. His hand resting over yours. Sometimes his face buried lightly in your hair.
Other times, when nightmares try to find him, you'll feel it. The unconscious way his fingers search across the mattress. The way he reaches for you even while asleep.
Seeking warmth.
And the moment he finds you, his body relaxes. The tension leaves his shoulders. His breathing evens out once more.
♡ princessxmin please do not alter, copy or translate my work !
pairing: probst wyatt III x gn!reader
summary: you go through some old war photographs with wyatt.
w.c: 883
I was glued into one spot on the carpet of Wyatt’s room, surrounded by tons of small and tiny pictures littered around on the floor. I adjust my posture slightly, leaning forward into the filling bin and rummaging through the hundred photographs smushed together. There were about fifteen bins filled completely with photographs, and other relics of the past. Some were found in destroyed and abandoned homes, and some were other resistance members’.
That’s what led us here - going through the bin mixed with Blazkowicz and Wyatts photographs. Earlier in the evening, a conversation we had earlier led me to convince Wyatt to go grab them from storage, and we could go through them, and find old memories of the past.
Taking a stack, I flip through the photographs to see if I find anything - until I find a medium-sized one, which was stuck to the glossy side of another photograph. It was a group of boys, gathered together, all dressed in military uniforms with their arms wrapped around each other's shoulders.
“Who are they?” I face Wyatt, criss-crossed in front of me, dozens of photographs surrounding him on the carpet and littered in his lap. His jacket is discarded somewhere on the floor, leaving him in just his solid green sweater. His blue eyes meet mine, then stare at the picture.
“That’s my old group, back at home,” his eyes turned back to his lap, searching for a picture. He picks up one to his far left, stacked neatly in a pile. He holds it out to me. “The boy on the left is Jim. Next to him, Thomas,” I accept the photo, studying their faces. It’s all in black and white, as all of them are. I compare the two photographs side by side, finding each boy in the other picture. “That’s Mike right there,” he leans over, pointing at the man with slicked hair and tons of freckles. “And that’s Dave,” the guy on the far right, with his jacket collar slightly messed up.
“Are you in any of these?” I ask.
“Yeah, in a couple others. I took most of those pictures,” he retracts back, holding the stack of photographs in his hand, discarding the ones he is not looking for on the carpet like poker cards. He slides two in his lap, returning the remaining ones on the carpet. “This is us all on the first day I volunteered,” he held it out to me. I don’t know if he wants me to take it from him, or just look at it, so I scoot closer, sitting on my shins fully. There were the same two boys before; Thomas and Mike, both surrounding Wyatt. Gosh they all looked so young - how long ago was this? I really wanted to ask more questions.
“What happened to them?”
“Are they alive?”
“What were they like?”
But I keep my mouth shut. I wouldn’t want to push this any further. It's insensitive to do so. If he wants to speak about it, he can. I don’t push him.
He notices the usual look of me pondering, painted across my face. His eyes meet mine again, voice slightly cracking.
“I don’t know if they survived the bombing. When I was put with Blazkowicz’s group, I never spoke to, or saw them again.” His eyes flicker to the burgundy carpet, and he places the photo back neatly in the stacked pile.
“I’m sorry, Wyatt.” It comes out in a soft whisper. I mean it. Truly. War does that to people, people you love, hate or loathe. You see them once, then never again. If they truly aren’t alive, there are at least two living people who can continue to know the memory of them and remember. That’s all that matters.
He sighs, looking up at me, his eyes glossy. I debated crawling over and giving him a hug, but he opened his mouth, continuing to talk. “Please, you have nothing to be sorry about,” he’s back to grabbing a handful of photos and sorting them on the floor. “They all went west days before it happened, so they might still be alive,” his face shows something else; sadness? Hopeless? He knows the truth. But he refuses to believe it. Maybe they could still be alive, out there, hiding as civilians, planning their own resistance somewhere.
I find another photo of Wyatt and the boys, hidden under another old photograph. I pass it to him, which he gladly accepts, and tells me, “thank you.”
“If they are, do you think they’re plotting the same revolution as us?” I don’t know if I should’ve said that - just let the conversation die until we naturally find something else to talk about. But we’re going through hundreds of photos of people who are dead, so I think the conversation is going to be grim no matter the topic.
The corner of his lips curve into a slight smile, “There’s a lot of people planning something.”
He was right. Caroline started the Kreisau Circle. Then Grace Walker, found people in the rumbles and remains of New York city, and created her own resistance group. Who else could be out there? Planning the same thing as us?
“I like the way you think, Wyatt.” I grin back at him.
pairing: eyeless jack x f!reader
summary: EJ does everything to keep you safe while on missions, or from the other proxies. and sometimes, he has to save you from yourself.
warnings: suicide attempt, self harm, cutting, blood, angst to fluff, comfort, established relationship, good ending!
w.c: 3,904
note: i wrote this like a year ago, it's not my best work but was a vent fic at the time. just remember you are loved, if you ever need to vent/talk feel free to msg me <3
Jack loves you with his entire heart.
He’s aware of what he is now. He doesn’t remember anything of his past life, besides dabbling in medicine - but he was once a human like you. He knows the fragility of human life, which is why he is always cautious whenever you get hurt. Scrapes? Papercuts? Simply just yelping out of frustration? If you appear to be in pain, Jack will be there. The exact second your blood is exposed into the air, he reacts the same way no matter the severity - dropping everything to get to you. It’s all the same to him. If you’re hurt, you’re hurt.
Absolutely has no regard for whatever he’s doing. He has abandoned a handful of missions to check up on you, getting scolded by Slenderman. He does not care. He’s the only medic, too much to replace. All that matters to him is keeping you safe, then doing his job.
He loves you, and would do anything to protect you. To make sure you’re safe from everything in this world of horrors, and while staying in the mansion.
In a time you needed him most, he could not save you from yourself.
You angled the razor blade, slanting it towards your skin, and swiping as fast as you could to relieve your brain of the thoughts squirming around. Too deep. Way too deep.
In an instant blood leaked out of your body so fast, pouring out as if someone was dumping the sprite from a soda can onto the ground. You couldn’t scream, body violently shaking as the bathroom started to fog up, the lights were blurring, spots of your vision going dark and navy.
His mouth was buried into a freshly harvested kidney; Blood was smeared all over his face, dripping down onto the tile floor of his lab as he crouched down.
He was back from a hunt, unfortunately killing an unlucky middle-aged man and harvesting his organs. He didn’t mean to get him involved - preferring to usually choose his meals from the mission victims. The mailman witnessed the entire thing - watched Jeff walk into a house, gut a woman inside her home, steal her stuff, and leave. He watched through the window, so when Jack spotted him staring, he had to go. In an instant, he decapitated the man, taking his body back to the mansion. It was simply the wrong place at the wrong time - there was no point in torturing the poor soul.
His teeth sharp as razor blades bite down into the muscle, making blood squirt everywhere on his face, over his nostrils and dark grey cheeks. He quickly whipped it off with his claws and licked his claws clean. Completely savoring the metallic stench of blood, he opened his mouth wide to fit the remaining piece of flesh into his mouth when the scent of you hit the air.
He dropped the kidney, disregarding his mask and running as fast as his demon abilities let him.
That was your blood. You.
Are you okay? Did someone get to you?
Did Jeff - Jeff, yes it had to be him. He hated your guts. He was an asshole to you every second he saw you, always threatening to kill you and harm you any time you worked together. He remembers so vividly wrapping your arms in bandages in the aftermath of a fight that broke out between the two of you, hearing your quiet cries each time the fabric touched your wounds.
I’ll fucking kill him.
He was running purely on adrenaline through the dozens of hallways, his steps making the walls shake each time he slammed his feet on the floor. “’I’m almost there, Y/N just- hold on.
He broke your bedroom door wide open, running up to the bathroom door and breaking it down. He claws retracted, ready to shred Jeff to pieces.
The second he saw your body on the floor beside the bathtub, coated in your own blood, the blood pooling around your thighs all over the white floor – and the razor blade in your palm.
It was the first time he was truly scared.
—
“I love you Y/N.”
His voice was quiet as he could possibly make it; an attempt to comfort and stop or lessen your crying. His demonic form never produced any heat. He was not human, nor warmblooded - and feeling your hot tears seep through his sweatshirt made him want to cry with you. He pulled you closer to his chest, cradling you tighter with his arms as he ran through the hallways of the mansion. “You’re going to be okay, I promise you.”
You were too exhausted to respond to him.
Through the black holes of his mask, his gaze flickered between you and the doors straight ahead. He knew the mansion's layout like the back of his hand, however bumping or stumbling over something while he carried you bridal style was not something he wanted to risk. All thanks to Jeff wanting the lights to be off by midnight, he had to run through the darkness as fast as he could without hurting you. His eyesight was immaculate, and he definitely could see where he was heading. But the thought of injuring you even further absolutely horrified him, just the “what if I slip on something and she falls? What if I hurt her running?” made him want to play things safely.
Everything was fuzzy. The blood loss was quickly hitting you, your body feeling like it was made of air, and the warmth on your skin was beginning to fade. You could only mentally mutter apologies, just I’m sorry, I’m sorry I’m so sorry over and over. It completely muffled Jack's steps against the floor. You didn’t mean for him to find you like this - find you in this disgusting, broken down state which he now has to clean up and fix. Jack was stressed enough, and the last thing he needed on his plate was for his partner to try and commit suicide.
“Shh,” he quietly coos, “I have you Y/N,” he responded as if he read your mind, his palms drawing gentle circles on your back with his hand. He was so calm, treating this as if he was merely carrying you to your shared bedroom, ready to tuck you under the sheets and kiss you goodnight.
You fight the stinging in your eyes and open them, peering up at him as you rest your head against his chest.The darkness only lets you see the outline of his head and mask, and how the hood on his hoodie puffed up around his shoulders. “We’re almost there. One second,” he whispered. His voice didn’t show it, but he was absolutely fucking terrifed right now. If you end up dying because he did not get to you in time, he would lose it. He would never live without you, no. He loves you so much.
He pushed his back against the door, swinging it open and laying you down on the lab table. The metal of the operating table froze against your thighs, goosebumps covering your entire body. Jack was standing right in front of you, and you lift your legs up to your chest to hide yourself out of pure shame.
His hands shoot to you, holding you in place.
“Don’t do that, you’re going to hurt yourself even more.” He carefully lowered them back onto the table.
Shame hit you harder by the second. Nothing could make you calm down right now - your breathing continues to get faster and faster. You blurted out whatever words you could to Jack.
“I’m sorry,” hot tears dripping down your cheeks and leaving small dots on the table. “I’m such a fucking idiot I’m so sorry Jack I-” he placed a finger on your mouth, shushing your rambling. He felt so sick to his stomach seeing you cry - seeing you in pain. He seemed surprisingly calm, but the shadows in the room hid how his hands were shaking out of fear. You couldn’t hear his pounding heartbeat through your tears.
“You have nothing to be sorry for, my dear. I promise you,” his claws moved to your head, gently massaging your scalp ,“I’m going to have to stitch it up, okay? It’s nothing bad, just a lot of blood.”
You couldn’t bear to open your eyes at him, choosing to nod with your eyes closed. Your sniffling got worse and worse by the second, and Jack opted to using his sleeve to dry your tears. “You’re okay. I love you.” He opened a drawer, pulling out a bottle of alcohol, a stitching kit, and cotton swabs. “I need to make sure it doesn’t get infected. You’re going to be alright.”
The mansion was already low on medical supplies, and here Jack was, wasting resources because of you. I’m absolutely pathetic. If Masky came in with a gunshot wound and there were no stitches left, what the hell was Jack supposed to do? Let him bleed out?
If he - or just any of the Proxy’s in general found out what you did - they’d gut you. You’re too weak to be living under Slendermans roof. You’re actually pathetic .
Jack never turned the overhead lights on in the lab, so the both of you were sitting in darkness. He always preferred to keep You couldn’t see anything in the room besides Jack due to the proximity of him. The overhead lights worked - but he preferred keeping them off. They were more so for human comfort, as he has amazing eyesight. But he kept them off for you, so you wouldn’t have to witness what he was going to do.
He opened the blinds slightly -- light blue moonlight seeping through the small cracks, casting lines of light against your body, which were blocked by Jack’s frame. You could slightly see your body now; the left side of your pants pulled down enough to expose your thighs, and the dozens of deed cuts littered over them. The bleeding has stopped by now, but you could still feel the wet blood on your skin.
“It’s going to sting,” he prepares the cotton ball, tilting the bottle of alcohol soaking the cotton. “You can hold onto me. I’m sorry.” He gently holds your plush thighs using his claws, causing you to yelp in pain. You thrash against him, grabbing onto his biceps as the cuts stung more and more by the second. A mix of blood and alcohol running down your thighs and onto the table, soaking your sweatpants. He muttered many apologies as he went through many cotton balls, using his free hand to softly caress your shoulder. “I know, I know it hurts. I’m sorry,” you could feel the familiar sting in your eyes, like you were about to start crying again.
As much as he wanted to hold your hand, comfort you - take away all the pain, he only had two hands. Removing his grasp on your shoulders, he trailed his hand down to your other thigh, grabbing the fabric of your sweatpants. “Is it okay if I..?” he asked, and you quietly whispered a ‘yes’ in return. He removed your pants completely, the cold air slapping against your legs making more goosebumps appear. “Do you want me to get you a blanket? Are you cold?” you didn’t respond, trying your best to zone out and get your breathing under control.
“Y/N, you can talk to me.”
“I don’t want to talk,” He sighs at your words, clicking the plastic container open and threading the needle. His claws were huge, nearly double the size of a human finger, so he had to be careful preparing things. If he messed something up for you he would never forgive himself. For the past ten minutes, he’s told himself it's all his fault over a million times. He shouldn’t have left you alone after you kicked him out. He knew you were upset and needed space to yourself, and he respected that. He gave you time alone. And it ended up hurting you.
“Okay.” He tore open another bag of cotton swabs, and laid down a dry towel right beside your cut thigh. You stare at the ceiling, even though the roof was completely invisible in the dark. Then your eyes darted to the window - starting at the moonlight as the blinds chopped up lines in the light. You inhale deeply through your nose, your chest rising and the throbbing in your head slightly fading away. Eventually after a few minutes, you were no longer crying and your eyes no longer stung.
“The needle will only be a few pricks, but it won’t be as painful as before. You got through the worst of it,” he leaned over you, steadying himself to begin stitching the wounds. “I’m going to start now.”
You ignored him again .
“Y/N?”
The only thing audible in the room was the wind against the windows.
“Y/N.” He set the needle on the table and tapped your shoulder, forcing you to look at him now. “What's wrong?” His worrying was getting worse.
“I don’t want to talk.”
He was silent for a moment, unsure what to say. “I understand,” he grabs the needle again. “But if I stitch you up, you need to tell me how it feels.”
“And I’ll tell you if it hurts,” you snapped back. “I don’t need you to baby me Jack. You’re like this every time I get hurt.”
His heart dropped.
______
“I don’t need you to baby me Jack.”
The words rang through his head, taking over every thought in his mind. He was extremely calm and reserved right now, stitching up the remaining cuts on your legs. The metal needle went under one side of your skin, then down and over the other side; repeat. His hands were coated in your dried blood, staining up onto the sleeves of his sweatshirt. The stitches had to be precise as possible, to both guarantee they heal safely and heal fast.
“Y/N! Wake up, please, please.”
His pleads loop over and over, blocking out the sound of your jagged breathing, the slight whimper in pain coming from your chest as he stitches you up.
He could not steady his breathing, the tears just poured more and more. He kept crying, just endlessly begging you to keep your eyes open, telling you it’s going to be okay because he’s there.
He pulls the thread up, knotting it and using his claw to snip the small remaining part. Your face was painted with fatigue and exhaustion. He decided not to keep tugging questions from you - part of it was for your own sake, and the other for his. Each word he said made his throat and eyes sting more, tugging on his heart strings. He didn’t want to hurt you and mess this up, so if he lost focus that would be the end of it.
At the bottom of your green sweatshirt, the blood fully dried. It was no longer red, but it made the green significantly darker. The sight of it, the smell, made his mind spiral even more.
How the sweatshirt he gifted you would now permanently be tied to a situation like this. A piece of cloth that you cherished and loved so much, wore all the time - it was inseparable from you. Ever since Jack gifted it to you, it became your favorite thing to wear. For the months you wore it around the mansion, outside, or simply laying in bed, it began to lose its fluffiness on the inside. Washing it scraped the softness away even more too. Even if it was not the same comfy sweatshirt you once knew before - it still was the sweatshirt. You wore it anyway, because it was Jacks.
And now, he was sure you would never let it ever touch your skin again. It would be tossed away in the trash, alongside all the remaining memories the two of you had with it.
“You’re going to be okay, just talk to me please. Keep your eyes open Y/N. Look at me.”
He always warned you about blood. How the smallest whiff of it, wether it was yours, a pet, or anybody - could make him snap and turn his mind into hunting mode.
The smell of your blood horrified him. His demon senses were far behind him. Even if he was surrounded by a pool of blood, if it was yours, it did not affect him in the ways he warned you about. His humanity overpowered him at that exact moment, just the thought of keeping you alive was the only thing on his mind. He couldn’t lose you. No, he would never live without you. It was like you two were internally connected, and every second you slowly faded away killed him more.
The screams that came from behind the white, rustic bathroom door were so loud - enough to seep through the metal playing through Jeff's earbuds. He couldn’t tell if it was the vocalists, or something in real life, but once he heard Jack’s voice, he knew it was real.
“The hell?” he dropped the wire on his desk, running towards the sound. As much as he didn’t want to admit to himself, he was concerned.
When he finally made it to your room, he ran inside, and peered through the open bathroom door. Jeff's reflection in the mirror turned into pure horror as he saw Jack completely drenched in your own blood.
“I don’t need you to baby me Jack.”
The memory flourished through his mind again, making his breath stutter. He steps away from you, adding more thread to the needle.
Ever since you snapped at him, he’s been silent. It was uncomfortable, hearing just the sound of your own breathing in the room. Everything about him was very quiet - his footsteps, breathing, and now it was like you were alone in an empty room, only able to slightly see in the darkness.
His back was turned to you, and you study how tall he really is. He has you sitting on an operating table that is a couple feet off the ground, and still nearly doubles the height. To a normal person, it would be terrifying, but you’ve seen him get up from bed at night so many times, it doesn’t bother you anymore.
It was also unusual for him to have his mask off this long, discarded right by your side. He always has it on when he operates on people, including you. There's a few far and between times he’s had it off but it’s mostly on. Maybe that was his attempt at comforting you, leaving it off this entire time.
He turns back to you, holding your leg in place as he dabs one of the cuts with a cotton swab, causing you to flinch from the stinging. You hold in your whimper, hiding your pain from him, but he reads you so easily.
He retracts his hands immediately, holding them an inch away from you.
“Do your stitches hurt?” his voice concerned. “ There’s a few more I need to put in, but these ones are done. This is the last one.”
“I feel fine Jack.”
“No you don’t,” he immediately responds.
Great. Back to arguing with him while you’re injured. It would be so much better if you just kept your mouth shut, just responding with nods and head shakes. But of course, you have to stir things up.
“It doesn’t hurt okay? I’m telling you I’m fine. You’ve given me stitches before, this isn’t a first.”
He sighs, lowering his head and staring at the floor. Your words sting and stab at his heart, but he knows not to take it personally. You’re stressed, and it would take you some time to fully calm down and process everything that happened, so for the time being he will comfort and try his best to support you.
“Y/N.” He holds your shoulder, mindful of his claws. “You could have died, and I would have never forgiven myself If I didn’t get to you in time. You know that right?” he gently cupped your cheek with his ice cold palm, “That I love you. Much more than you can ever imagine.” His hand was frozen against your warm skin, but hesitantly, you nuzzled against it anyway, craving his touch.
Then it all came crashing out. “I’m just so tired - I-I don’t know what to do anymore.” He frowned at your response. “I’m sorry Jack, I’m so sorry for this, I fucked u-” He gently presses the pad of his finger against your lips, quietly shushing you.
“You don’t need to be sorry, my love.” He takes the sewing needle and stitches the last wound on your thigh, and cuts the remaining thread with one of his claws. “This is all in the past now, okay? There’s no need to stress about anything. It’s over, and we just move on from things like this.” You avert your gaze from him, choosing to stare at the tile flooring before nodding and shutting your eyes. “Come here.”
He wraps his arms around you, pulling you chest to chest with him, and he buries his head against your shoulder. Your heart throbbed more and more each second, finally feeling the weight of what happened being lifted from your shoulders. You almost frown as retracts his arms from you, but he hovers over you, resting his forehead against yours.
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
He softly kisses your forehead, his lips as cold as ice.
-----
Your fingers grasp the razor blade, slicing the tape clean, and tearing apart the cardboard box. You slide the safety back on, digging through the packing-peanuts and pulling out what's inside.
“Oh sure, you ordered only medical equipment,” you turn towards your boyfriend, holding up the tiny “magical cat” blind box. It was a small blue and sparkly pink box, with a smiling cat holding a wand.
“I forgot to remove that from my cart,” he puts the syringes in his hand, kneeling next to you on the floor. “But it's here..”
“And we have no proper return address.”
“That’s right.”
You shoot him one small grin, and flip it towards the back, pointing at the cutest cat on there.
“I better get this one!” you say, earning a soft giggle from Jack.
Tearing the top open and ripping the plastic bag inside, you get the same cat on the front box - not the one you wanted, but still cute as hell nonetheless.
“Look at him!” you place it in Jack's palms, his cold skin not bothering you anymore, “you should put him on your desk, tehehe.”
“I think you should keep it,” he hands it back to you, quickly glancing at your arms. Your scars have faded, enough that there’s still small bumps here and there. It took a while for you to stop wearing long sleeves and Jack's sweatshirts, but here you are, in the freezing basement of Jack's medical lab rocking a band shirt.
The both of you continue going through all the boxes of things, when he says your name.
“Yeah Jack?” I tear the box open, looking at his eyes through his mask.
pairing: mr. crawling x gn!reader
summary: mr. crawling catches you self-harming, and comforts you.
trigger warnings: self-harm, cutting, depression, angst to comfort. happy ending1 <3
w.c: 1,969
wrote this awhile go, finally uploading it here. just remember you are loved <3 my msgs are always open if anybody needs to vent or talk!
Your hands shook, fingers shaking as you press the sharp metal against your skin. It’s only been a dozen of seconds before you spiraled into the hell of your mind. You were so mindful of your breathing, to try and not startle Mr. Crawling. You don’t want him to see you like this, and watch him in confusion as he tries to puzzle together who hurt you. Your eyes and head begin to sting at the thought, tears creeping into your eyes.
You look down at your left arm, seeing the blood gushing out and staining the white sheets of the mattress. Oh no, oh no oh no.. what have I done.. I need help before this gets out of hand or worse..
A familiar zing is heard behind you under your pillow, startling you. On impulse, you grab it and throw it onto the concrete floor, earning a soft poof in response.
What the hell was Mr. Gap trying to do?
Your slam your palm over your mouth, trying to mask your breathing, unable to hear the sound of the door opening due to the thumping of your heart going budaumpbudaump. You couldn’t hear your breathing, and by each second It was getting hard to breathe.
“You injured?”
Mr. Crawler peered up at you from the floor, his long hair against the mattress, and his mouth wide open, lips parted.
He’s instantly on top of you, so gently holding your arm in his hand, and petting your head in the other one.
“You safe.. you safe me protect, me heal. Who injure? Who?”
He scans the room on instinct, looking for the source of who harmed you; his first assumption was Mr. Gap, thinking that he bit your wrist after you tried to deny him another body finger.
He softly holds your other hand, and sees the metal pipe right beside the bed, drenched in your blood
It clicked together.
He never confronted or asked you, he just nuzzled into you closer, desperately trying to help you lower your breathing and keep you safe.
You felt so ashamed of yourself. How could you forget the man that tells you every day that he likes you, who would go to hell and back to see you happy- who is the sole reason why you didn’t leave through the elevator.
You were so selfish.
And he had no vengeance for it, he only smiled at you and smoothed his fingers through your locks once again, gently moving your sleeve up so he can help clean the cuts.
“You ok, you ok,” he said, grinning directly at you, “me protect you, me heal.” He used a small piece of fabric from his black kimono to press against the wound, making you shiver at the sting of pain. His smile dropped at the reaction, and he brought his other hand up to your cheek to rub small circles on it.
Gosh, you were so ashamed that you felt sick to your stomach.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I’m so.. stupid,” you say, voice all creaky and hot tears drip from your eyes down your cheeks.
“Ok, me protect you, ok you,” he wipes the tears away, touching you so softly.
The bleeding on your wrist has long stopped, Mr. Crawling lets go of the fabric letting it fall back into place He stared at the dark red that was scabbed, and then he had one idea.
He peered his face up at you, taking both of his hands and petting your head. You lean into his touch, closing your eyes. It was so comforting, always making you feel so safe when he does that.
He stuck one of his long, fingers into his mouth, wetting it and placing it onto the wound, closing it up instantly.
It was some sort of magic or ability in this realm to be able to heal yourself like that. You look down at your skin, and there was no scarring!
The pain was gone - it was like nothing happened. There was no evidence except the crimson that stained the sheets below.
“You safe, me like you safe!” His lips parted to a large grin, and he giggles.
“Thank you, thank you I’m sorry-“ he shushed you by petting your head again, earning a smile from you
You let your wrist fall against the comforter, Mr. Crawling hands are placed on each side of your head, caging you in the mattress. You feel heat rise to your cheeks. He’s back to being his clingy self again.
“Me sleep with you?” He tilts his head. He was already on top of you, squishing you with his weight. You smile up at him.
“Yes, me like you sleep with me,” his mouth widen to a grin, and did his usual high pitched “Hehehe!”, crawling up further up you. He stared at you on all four, his mouth centimeters away from yours.
“Me like you, me protect you,” before slowly laying on you, being careful of his weight. His head was right on your heart, his ear - if he even had ears, where they would be listened to the thump thump thump, and he giggles as he hears you.
“Me ⶴቹልዪ heart! Me like, me give me heart,” he lifted his face towards you, and you run a hand through his hair, petting him, which causes him to reciprocate the action, placing both of his palms on your scalp and petting you.
Did that word mean hear?
As if he read your mind, saw the slight second of you zoning out, he presses his cheek against yours, wrapping his arms around your chest and completely holding onto you. His skin was icy against yours, but his hair was suprisnglg warm and soft against your face.
“Good night,” you whisper to him, weeping your arms around his back, and you could’ve swore he purred at the return of affection.
“Good night! Good night you!,” he grinned, nuzzling himself into your neck even more, “me you together, stay forever.”
You inhale again slowly, and shut your eyes, allowing yourself to sink into the pillow.
pairing: mr. crawling x gn!reader
summary: you call mr. crawling pookie. he really likes it.
w.c: 601
Your eyes skim left to right on the page of your book, full of words you mostly understand in Mr. Crawling's language. There were a few here and there that you had to ask him to translate for you, taking minutes to finally get the connection through.
Your back was pressed against the metal headboard of the bed, slightly uncomfortable. Your legs are full of pins and needles from laying still too long, and also due to the weight of the man laying on the lower half of your body. Stretching your legs out enough to get the cramps out, you involuntarily wake the man up; his long silky raven hair a blanket to your legs, the left side of his face pressed into your belly button and his arms wrapped onto your waist, keeping him as close as possible to you.
“Hello you!” his chin rests on your lower stomach, lips curled into a grin, “you comfy.”
You move your hand from the pages of your book to his face, caressing the icy smooth skin of his squishy cheeks, a faint heat radiating off it. He leans his cheek into yours, relishing in your warmth and touch.
“Me love you,” his arms move up towards your waist, making your heart flutter with happiness, and scoot up closer towards him.
“I love you too, pookie.”
Confusion strikes his face, trying to put together the new word. He repeats it outloud, trying to get the pronunciation correct, but he sounds like a broken record. But your tone was positive! Full of love and playfulness - so it must be a compliment!
“Pookay? Pooo-kea?” his face was riddled with confusion, though his smile was still there.
“Pooo-kie. Like poo, y’know, and key put together,” you put your two pointer fingers together, the book discarded by your pillow. “It makes pookie!”
He giggles excitingly, repeating the word back to you over and over, face lighting up now that he got it right. “Pookie, what is pookie?” his head turns, looking for your approval.
Your heart throbs at his success, your lips curving up, and you put both your hands on his shoulder.
“You’re pookie,” you whisper, voice sweet. His lips curve back into a smile, giggling loudly. “Think of it like, sweetheart, or love. All nicknames you can call your lover,” his pale skin fades to a soft pink once more, “but pookie is more playful and fun!”
He giggles again, crawling off your body and sitting on his knees in front of you, hands in his lap. “You pookie!” his pointer finger pointed at you, “pookie pookie, love pookie!”
Then instantly, you thought of another way to make his brain stop functioning, and make him melt even more.
“Hey, Mr. Crawling, do you know what you are..?” you raise your eyebrows, teasing him. His head tilts to the left, his long hair covering his entire form.
“Yes?”
“You’re the pookiest pookie of all pookies!”
He giggles loudly, it almost comes off as a squeak compared to his other usual laughs.
“Now we both have another name we can call eachother!” you giggle along with him, shifting down onto the mattress, your back fully against the white sheets and head resting on the pillow. You retrieve your book, opening back to the page you were reading, until Mr. Crawling slowly crawls over your body, towering over you. His face above yours, staring down at the paper before meeting your own eyes.
“Do you want me to read out loud for you?” you lower the book so his face is centimeters away from yours.
pairing: giovanni x gn!reader
summary: sfw alphabet with giovanni. this was written sooo long ago so it may be OOC :,)
warnings: fluff, kissing, cuddling, touching
w.c: 2,425
A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)
Always spends time with you when he can. He’s working the majority of his days, but whenever he gets downtime, he visits you. Calls you to his office for his lunch break, drops in on you when you’re working just to “supervise” (though you can tell it’s just to visit you), driving you to and from work. Anytime he’s free to tag along, he’s by your side. You don’t ever have to ask - he knows your schedule. Don’t be surprised when you get free time and he instantly pops out of nowhere.
Absolutely not a fan of PDA. He has an image to maintain; why would the boss of the world's largest criminal organization be all lovey-dovey? That’s unprofessional. He would only initiate anything if it’s to deter someone from you. He prefers to be just a coworker at work. Everybody at Team Rocket knows you’re a couple, and nobody in their right mind would mess with the boss. However, if you’re at a work meeting with strangers and you keep getting stares, he’d drape his arm around your shoulder and pull you close in a possessive way, or walk you around with his hand on your lower back. Although everybody is very much aware you two are together, he doesn’t see the need to constantly remind people. If you wanted to cling onto his arm or kiss him he’d let you, just don’t expect him to act happy, although he is.
Behind closed doors? Surprisingly touchy. It would take tons of time for him to warm up and start initiating things, but would never refuse anything from you.
Always has his hand(s) on you - whether on your back, arms or shoulders. If you’re sitting besides him at his desk, he wouldn’t mind letting his thigh linger against yours.
Holding hands is a must. Doesn’t have to be all the time, but he secretly loves when you interlock your fingers with his. Makes him feel all mushy.
B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)
Does not have friends. Most of his allies are coworkers or colleagues, people that benefit him. He can count on his hand how many people he actually likes to hang out with. Prefers to spend time with his Persian.
When you first meet, you are working somewhere in Team Rocket, unless he recruited you himself.
C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)
Have you seen him with his Persian? Loves anytime you sit beside him and snuggle into him. Very stiff, it might feel like he’s uncomfortable but he absolutely loves it. Also very cold at first, but slowly warms up after a few minutes. When you sit on the couch with him, he just scoops you close and wraps his arm around your back. Very casual about it too. If you tease him, he would 100% stop (c’mon, he’s scary, don’t make fun of him).
Sleeps with you in his arms most of the time. If you go to sleep before him, somehow you’ll end up with your legs tangled together on his side.
If you ask nicely, you can sit in his lap. Will act so smug about it.
D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)
Let him take over the world first.
Would love to have kids, but self-doubts that he would be a good father; he’s already tight on time with work, how would that affect his family life?
He knows how to cook, and does on occasion, but it’s more convenient to have someone at Rocket just cook for him. He has the money. Would totally cook for you if you were ever hungry.
E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)
Listen, if you ever get remotely close to this man - even dating him, he would not let you go that easily. If he was going to end things, it’d have to be incredibly early - and more so out of concern for your safety. Even so, if he likes you, he likes you. There’s no getting rid of him.
F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)
Would hold off on things for a while. He knows you’re the one - but doesn’t see the need to rush things just yet. He’ll pop the question when you two have a break from work, with nothing to worry about it.
G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)
Physically frightening. Grunts and workers will purposely walk a different direction to avoid him. Around you? A softie. Always listens to you and tries to fix things. You two rarely argue, and when you do you both talk things out. He may not seem like the caring type, and sometimes it’s hard to break through his emotional barrier; it’s hard to separate his work life from how he is, it’s kinda ingrained in him. But if he ever sees you cry it would genuinely break his heart.
Although he doesn’t mean to, he does not censor anything from work for you. He will tell you the exact details of his day, from business stuff to selling pokemon on the black market. You’re his partner, he doesn’t see why he needs to hide things from you.
H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)
He always hugs you as a greeting or a farewell. Sometimes when you’re about to head out for the day he just quickly pulls you to his chest. Prefers to save longer ones for when you’re feeling down and when he’s comforting you. He’ll hold you close, putting his palm on your hair and pushing your head close against him, using his other hand to slowly rub circles on your back. Yeah, he might feel like a wooden plank but he genuinely wants you to feel happy and safe.
I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)
A long time. After a few months he knows he loves you, but saying it directly to you terrifies him. He feels like it's wrong to want anything romantic in life. He’s a criminal. The first time he says it would either be casually or after a date. He holds your hands and looks you in the eyes and says it.
If you wanted to say the words first to him, you can, but it’d be better to let him sort his feelings out.
J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)
He’s terrifying. It’s not that he doesn’t trust you - he a hundred percent does, it’s what other people could do to you. What if you’re too trusting, and that person over there hurts you? Or is trying to get something else? If he notices someone being too friendly with you, he will come over and make his presence known. He has all the power in the world, nobody should dare try to mess with him.
K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)
He kisses you like it’s the first time, every single time. He slowly gets less nervous about it the longer you two are together, but it’s an odd concept for him to do. His lips are always soft and smooth, warm compared to the rest of his body. He’s never rough either, always kisses you like you're made of glass. Sometimes his hands will cup your face but they're mostly on your forearms or resting on your hips. Prefers to kiss you on your lips or the side of your face, will do your neck if things get heated.
Says he doesn’t like being kissed anywhere else but his face, but literally does not care. You could smother his cheeks and he’d act disgusted about it at first, but he will tug your wrist if you try to get away.
L = Little ones (How are they around children?)
Surprisingly nice to kids because he's such a scary boss. Will not hesitate to try to recruit them. I honestly don’t see him as someone who would treat them less or more than him, he kinda doesn’t really care who you are, as long as you're not against him.
M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)
Stirrs and wakes up before you. Depending if it’s a work day or not, he gets up before the sun rises. You don’t have to get up with him - he’ll purposely be quiet and roll out of bed to not wake you up. If you like to get up with him, he’ll get dressed, quickly make something to eat, and speed off to work with you.
N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)
Depending on what day, you two get home very late sometimes. Chilling out in the living room in his apartment is his ideal night, just slowly decompressing while spending time with you. Will not go to sleep with you until you’re tired.
O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)
Again, if you’re dating this man he clearly likes and trusts you enough. It would take time to slowly peel back the layers - you kind of have to go at his own pace. Sharing tough things about yourself can speed it up, but let him come to you and talk to you. If you are ever curious about anything, don’t be afraid to ask him.
P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)
When you put yourself down he gets upset. Not that he intends to get mad, but when you self-deprecate he gets frustrated at you. He loves every part about you, so why are you talking so badly about yourself? But then, it can turn into him thinking that you believe you’re not good enough, or worthy to be with him.
Work is an entirely different story. Can snap so easily, depending on the way things go.
Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)
He remembers everything. It’s scary how good his memory is. Definitely transfers from his work ethics; no matter how small or big he will always remember. You said you liked a certain type of food? Well, guess what you’re getting for dinner. Always thinks about you too. Maps out pretty much everything about you in his mind. He’s not weird about it, he just values that knowledge.
R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)
The first time the both of you were sitting on the couch, chatting and watching television, and his Persian came out of nowhere and curled up in between the both of you, resting its head on your lap. Yeah, he was insulted at first - but it clearly liked you better. It made his heart warm.
S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)
As long as you’re with him, nothing can hurt you. Just associating with him is enough to scare people off. Will go to ends to make sure you’re always safe.
T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)
Goes all out on everything. Expensive dates, gifts and clothes - everything is always the best and most expensive. He saves the dates to expensive restaurants on days you have free time and off work, so you can actually sit down and enjoy it. Any other time is usually just a casual restaurant, but still high-end.
Also remembers all of your anniversaries. Showers you in tons of gifts.
U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)
Prioritizing work before you. He loves and always wants to spend time with you, but he will not hesitate to blow you off if it benefits him and his work. Expects you to agree with him on this. Very hypocritical and will expect you to drop everything for him, unless it’s work related. He also has the “I’m correct about everything” mentality, and although he genuinely wants and looks out for you, it can be frustrating.
V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)
Incredibly concerned. Has to present himself professionally at all times. Seriously though, he's always fixing his tie or dusting his jacket off. Likes to always appear put together and formal. Also wears cologne, hard to tell if you aren’t on top of him.
At home or off work hours, still dresses casually but never wears comfy clothes, unless he’s going to bed. He seriously can’t do it, it feels wrong.
W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)
He doesn’t see himself fit for relationships, but after meeting and being with you, he can’t ever go back. If you’re away for long periods of time, he will be sad about it. It’s impossible to tell on the outside, but each hour your apart does put a mental toll on him. He might lash out on his annoying employees.
X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)
He wears socks indoors. He doesn’t like the cold floor. Never mismatched.
Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)
Lying is a big no-no. He expects his partner to 100% fully trust him, and he expects the same from you. You can tell him anything and he would (probably slightly) never judge you, but he wants you to feel safe with him.
Obviously being against any of his morals or work ethics. If you’re uncomfortable with his job and the things he’s done, you probably shouldn’t be spending time with him. He honestly can read you very well so even if you tried to pretend you were okay with it, he’d know your lying.
Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)
He snores so loud. Isn’t even aware of it. It starts after a few hours of being asleep, but it will wake you up in the middle of the night. You haven’t brought it up with him, thinking it would make him too worried about sleeping together.
pairing: arlo (pokemon go) x gn!reader
summary: arlo is always there to ruin your day, and challenges you to a battle that ends in his alkazam accidently hurting you.
warnings: injury, kissing, enemies to lovers
w.c: 2,288
Today couldn’t be any better for you. The sunshine warmed your skin as you decided to discard your jacket earlier, too hot from walking and training in this weather. Instead, you used it as a cushion, sitting on it as you pressed your back against the tree. The shade was wonderful with the breeze, and your Flareon had the exact same idea as you, curled up beside you with wind running through its orange fur.
“Do you want another piece of candy?” Flareon's face lits up, mouth widening with a smile and rising to sit in front of you. Seeing him happy makes you smile back at him too, searching your bag for another candy to give to him.
“Here you go!” Tossing it up to him, he rises to his feet and catches it mid-air, sitting back down and chewing while his tail wags. “Good job!” you pet his head, running your fingers through the soft but warm fur from the sunlight. It was only the middle of the day, and although sunset would be in a few hours, the heat didn’t have any sign of stopping. You picked a good day to go out and train.
With your back leaned against the wood, the hard oak can be felt through the fabric of your shirt, but you didn’t mind. It was the little things like this in life that made you happy. Running your hands through the fabric of Flareon's fur, you scratch his back.
“How pathetic do you have to be to hide from me?.”
That voice - you grab Flareon to stop him from running off behind you, and you stand up and look behind the tall tree.
Your sight confirms it.
Arlo.
“Guess that loss really took a toll on you, so you have to hide from me instead of staying at your usual spot. I almost feel sorry for you. But again, that’s what happens when you underestimate me.”
Your eyebrows tilt downwards in anger, your Flareon's teeth showing out like it’s really to dash up and attack him, but you hold onto the scruff of his fur, not letting it happen.
“What the hell do you want? Why are you bothering me?” you scoff, your grip on your Flareon getting tighter as he slowly steps towards you, with his fist in his right pocket. The wind picks up, shaking the trees and making the branches squeak together. Now the wind felt cold against your skin, making small goosebumps pop all over your body.
“I wanted to see how great of a trainer you are, especially when it comes to your pokemon,” he pushes a strand of his jet black hair behind his ear, “Are all of your pokemon weak? Or is this one truly different because you’ve been putting in so much time and effort?”
You wanted to move forward and push him away from you so badly. He was only an arms length away, and he could see the fury painted on your face, completely different to how happy and relaxed you were empty from his presence.
“Nothing you want to say?” he scoffs, grinning, “Or are you just-”
“Shut up!” you shout, taking a pokeball from the pocket of your pants, giving your Flareon a concerned look before sending it back to its pokeball. “I’m not in the mood for this. If you want to battle someone, go bother someone else.” You weren’t going to let him ruin your day like this.
His lips slowly curl up, and he removes his hand out of his sweatshirt pocket, revealing a pokeball in his palm. Whatever pokemon he had in there, he really wanted you to dread it. “Hmm, no. I want you to defeat me like you promised. Or will I always be better than you? Is that why you’re so hesitant?”
His words were starting to crawl underneath your skin. He knew you way too well to aggravate you and upset you this easily. But you wouldn’t let it happen, not this time. You take your pokeball and put it back in your pocket, turning on your heel behind you to go pick up your backpack where you left it under the tree.
Arlo’s mouth widens with shock, “W-where do you think you’re going?”
“Home. If you’re better than me, you don’t need to keep proving it,” you throw it over your back, grabbing your jacket and bundling it up to carry in your arms.
His face was angry as ever, but his voice showed pure disbelief. No way you were going to walk out and admit defeat this easily. No, he couldn’t let it be like this. What happened to the snarky you that would argue back? That didn’t let his comments slide?
“I didn’t say..” he shouts your name as you walk away, but you stare at the bright green grass on the field, the sun reflecting off all the terrain. How lovely it must feel for him to finally be the one getting put down.
Shocking you, he runs up from behind you and stops right in front of you, blocking you from moving forward.
“I’m not leaving without a battle. Show me that you haven’t improved. Come on!” he slowly backs away to create enough distance to toss a pokeball mid-air. "Go, Alakazam!” he shouts,revealing his golden Alakazam that was radiating off dark purple fog and steam, making you stumble back and clutch onto the straps of your backpack in surprise.
You’ve heard the rumors of Team GO Rocket experimenting on pokemon, but words don't compare to seeing it in person.
“Arlo..” your voice betrays you as it cracks, the fear pretty obvious. A mix of frustration and worry, because you were still stuck in a situation you couldn’t get out of.
He might’ve felt an inch of concern, but he quickly locks it away and pushes his white glasses up. “You don’t stand a chance against me, and you never will.”
With a sigh, hesitantly you throw the pokeball in your pocket out, your hands shaking. You really didn’t want to do this, but judging how eager he was to have this battle with you, and bringing that poor pokemon he used a labrat, it had to go this way.
“Go, Flareon!” he appears in front of you, ready for your commands. Your heart was skipping every other beat, goosebumps covering your skin although it’s a beautiful day. Why were you so anxious to do this? If only he brought his Schizor, this would be easy breezy.
“Alakazam, use confusion!”
Your heart drops as it strikes your Flareon, taking nearly triple the damage it would usually take from that sort of attack.
“What?” your eyes widen, “How?”
Arlo crosses his arms, “That’s the power of Team GO Rocket. You will always be nothing compared to us,” he laughs, “Now, go. Let me see how great of a trainer you really are.”
Finally having had enough of his sarcasm, you shout, “Flareon, use fire spin!” watching your Flareon attack. It was nearly ineffective, causing only little damage to the Alakazam. Anxiety boils in your stomach. You had no chance in winning this, and Arlo knew.
“So weak. It’s embarrassing for Team Valor to have you as one of their own,” he raises his hand to command his Alakazam again, “But again, you fit right in. Alkazam, use psycho cut!”
This would probably knock your Flareon out, and you had to accept it. Bracing yourself for the worst as it attacks, its last strike misses Flareon completely and strikes you in the chest, knocking you backwards and sending your body against the hard earth. You let out a scream of pain, your entire torso throbbing with sharp shocks. Wetness drips from your eyes and you curl up and grab your heart with your hands, an attempt to soothe the pain.
You don’t hear your name being called over your cries.
“I didn’t mean to-” he drops to his knees beside you, pure panic on his face, “You should’ve moved out of the way!” he shouts, although there’s no threat in it, just loud. “Are you really this weak?” His hand reaches for your shoulder, but you push it away, not wanting his help.
“Get. Away from me,” you stutter through warm tears that are running down your face. The pain came in waves through your body, and all you could do was cry and bundle up and hope that it would slowly lessen. But it didn’t.
“No,” he paused, “I caused this. This is my fault.”
You finally glimpse at him through your blurry vision, his shoulders tense and eyes widened. No hint of that usual smirk he always wears whenever he feels like he’s above you. It was completely absent. He genuinely looked concerned.
You open your mouth to tell him off again, moreso forcing the words out. You didn’t know if you meant them, but the words get stuck in your throat anyway, and you slowly feel everything in your mind become dizzy, your head just begging you to close your eyes for a few seconds.
“No- no don’t pass out!” he panics, arms grabbing your shoulders to keep your attention on him. “Stay with me, please, I’ll fix this, I’ll-” he repeats your name as if he’s begging you for mercy, his hands are now shaking against your shoulders with a death grip. Some of his raven locks dangle in front of his face.
“Look at me, Y/N– look at me, I got you. I’m sorry I didn’t mean to hurt you. Don’t you dare pass out. Are you this w-weak?”
Ah yes, the typical insult from him. Maybe he didn’t lose his mind after all. It’s enough to pull a slight chuckle from you, making the throbbing in your head lessen after a few minutes. The fresh air definitely helped, and slowly, the fog in your mind starts to fade away, although the pain is still there. Your breathing slowly calms and returns back to normal, but Arlo doesn’t let you go. He holds you tighter in his arms, his sweatshirt like a blanket around you.
“How does it feel? How bad is it?,” he asks you, and before you can respond, he props your head up against his chest, letting you use him as a pillow. You wanted to protest, shout names at him, but you didn’t want him to let go. Oddly you felt safe in his arms, and he was surprised you let him. He thought you would hate him forever after this - that this would be the last time you could battle. But now he’s almost cradling you, and you’re holding onto him for dear life.
“It stings.. A lot. And just aches,” you whisper, your voice still a bit squeaky from the crying. “It’s better than before– I think I’ll be fine.”
“You’re not fine. I’ve never seen you cry.”
Whether it was out of instinct or just because of his comment, you shut your eyes, letting the remaining tears resting there escape and fall down your cheeks.
“I thought I lost you there. I’m serious.”
You open your eyes and stare right at his crimson ones. You didn’t have to respond. The silence was comfortable, enough for him to slowly wrap his arms around you and for you to lean into his touch.
“What? You thought you like.. Killed me?” you couldn’t help but giggle at his words, but when his face stays stoic you drop your smile immediately. “Arlo, are you worried about me?”
“No,” his eyes widen, “No I mean, I-” the words keep getting stuck in his throat, like you’ve caught him redhanded. “I’m not at all. I just don’t want to see you hurt like this, especially because it was my fault.”
The both of you don’t break eye contact, and he leans his head down closer to your face, just mere inches apart. “Who else will I battle?”
The meaning of his words finally hit you. He couldn’t just.. Outright say how he felt. You know Arlo, he never would. Even if it would kill him, he would bundle it all up and be defensive and cold and pretend he doesn’t feel that way.
You don’t look away from him. He breaks eye contact, staring somewhere in the grass. “I’m supposed to hate you. But why do I not feel that way anymore?”
You couldn’t deny how fast your heart was beating right now, how butterflies were swarming through your stomach. The warmth of the sun slowly came back in an instant - your cheeks rose with heat, the cold air outside doing nothing to help. You were just shivering moments before.
You whisper his name, gaining his attention back to you. His face showed how conflicted he was; was it wrong for him, a glorious leader of Team GO Rocket to be falling for someone like you?
Arlo was better than everyone. Which is why he didn’t really care what anybody would think. His lips press so gently to yours, like kissing you hard would shatter you like glass. You immediately match it, one of your palms coming up to cup the side of his face, feeling how hot his cheeks burned from being flustered. It was you who broke it, pulling your face away just so you could get a breath of air. Seeing him fully, his face was flushed, more red than the streak in his hair.
“Arlo?” you nervously ask him, making his eyes widen in horror. Saying his name because you didn’t like it - or you wanted to ask why he did that. Millions of questions raced through his head.
pairing: adrian tepes x gn!reader
summary: lately you're unable to sleep at night, and you suggest adrian drinks your blood to help you pass out.
warnings: biting, blood drinking, crying, kissing
w.c: 2,309
had this on ao3 for a while, but slowly posting all my fanfics here <3
The words were impossible to read. Every time you started a new sentence, you would go back and re-read it again. Your eyes burned, not from the strain at the small font, but from how exhausted you truly were.
You drop the book back against your thighs, the hard leather smacking the sheets. It startles Adrian awake, opening his golden eyes. His face immediately painted with concern, eyebrows raised. He raises his head from the pillow to meet your head level, blonde curls dangling over his bare chest and the shared comforter.
As he’s about to voice his worries to you, your mouth releases a sigh, and you throw your head back against the pillow that was propping you up. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”
He frowns at your words, understanding your frustrations. Using one of his hands he fluffs his pillow so it’s propped up like yours, the both of you laying parallel to each other. Under the sheets his leg presses against yours, a silent way to comfort you.
His golden eyes stare at the discarded book on your legs, then locked to yours.
“May I read to you? Your eyes need to rest too, my love.”
The lamp casts a soft hue in the room, even with your eyes shut, you can see the candlelight in the darkness. Keeping your eyes closed didn’t help. The front of your head ached, wrapping around the sides of your head. As much as your body was telling you to sleep; to close your eyelids and drift off, the burning sensation lingered, preventing you from relaxing.
The selfless part of you didn’t want to starve him of any rest either. You open your eyes, turning your head against the pillow so you’re facing him. “You don’t have to. You really should get some sleep.”
“Says you,” he teases, although his voice is absent of any humorous tone. “Please let me help you. Would a cup of tea help? A walk outside? Perhaps we could move to the guest bedroom – a different place might help.”
You close your eyes again, shaking your head slightly, the fluff of the pillow preventing you from exaggerating it more. You always appreciated how much Adrian cared for you, putting your wellbeing over his. But it wasn't his responsibility all the time. Not his problem that your mind cannot ever shut off the lights.
“Thank you but really, I promise you it’s okay.”
“It is not okay.”
Stuck in this situation, there’s nothing you can do. It would be a matter of time when your body would succumb to exhaustion, and you would wake up not more than a few hours later. The effects were obvious.There was no energy for you during the day, no interest in scouting the library for new books or adventuring the halls. Even at night, which is your favorite time to share with each other, you often sat in silence or made small talk instead of reading aloud to him. Your mind did not even let you read silently to yourself.
“I’ll fall asleep eventually. And we don’t have any major plans for tomorrow, right?” you smile softly at him, trying to look on the bright side. “As long as I’m with you, that’s all that matters.”
From this close, he can clearly see the darkness under your eyes. His eyebrows shift up, a small frown, his hand rubbing smooth circles on your skin. He moves his hand to your face, his palm gently cupping your face as his thumb massages your cheeks. He can feel the warmth radiate off it.
“I love you,” he says, and you swear you could get lost in his gaze forever.
“I love you too.”
His cold lips press to yours. You melt into it, closing your eyes and holding onto the side of his arms, a few strands of his blonde locks touching your fingers.
Before he can deepen the kiss even more, you pull back but instantly ask him a question. You didn’t want him to think you were uncomfortable or anything.
“Adrian,” you comb your fingers through the lower part of his curls. Sleeping beside him meant you would always get to mess around with his hair - but you choose to softly brush the locks. Such a small act that was incredibly intimate to him.
“Yes, my love?”
Taking an inhale of air through your lungs, you ask the one thing that could truly help you pass out. It’s not the healthiest method, but the both of you know it works. It will just take convincing him.
“Can– can you drink from me?”
His eyes widen for a brief second before relaxing, his face absent of any emotion. You expected an immediate disagreement, but you think he’s actually pondering.
“No.”
As expected; but you still feel the disappointment in your stomach. You didn’t get the chance to explain your reasoning, but his concern on your face makes you question if it's even worth trying.
“Adrian please-”
“Absoutely not.” He did not entertain the idea at all.
The lamp on the nightstand on his side of the bed suddenly becomes interesting to you. You couldn’t dare to stare him in the eye. You release a shaky breath, and pull away from him and return to laying on your back. The pillow felt relieving when you placed your head on it.
He joins you, laying back down, but he flips to his side so he directly faces you. He opens his mouth, and you were expecting another throwup of concern.
“Why?” he asks, and you meet his eyes, staring at how his eyebrows are clutched, truly curious on your reasoning for asking.
You swallow nervously. “A couple nights ago, it was right after we came home from the village. Remember when I got too lightheaded, and almost passed out?”
“I do,” he blinks, “is there a reason–” he stops mid sentence, realizing your intentions. “Y/N. This is not a good idea.”
“Please,” you were so eager for him to do this. “It’ll work. And you get too– you know. I owe you for keeping you up like this.”
“You do not need to repay me for taking care of you. I want none of that.”
You accept the defeat, your eyes staring down at the sheets. He notices your feelings, his hand placed on your arm to soothe you.
“We can think of something better. I am not drinking from you.” His voice was as gentle as ever and wrapped with concern. The both of you would end up talking until your body collapses from exhaustion, and you didn’t want that for him. It’s starting to affect him too, although he doesn’t require the same amount of rest as you, it still pains you to rob him of sleep. Perhaps you could open a window and watch the sunrise, like every other night; or maybe running off to the library.
“I understand. I’m sorry,” Your hands find the book again, which was abandoned somewhere on the sheets. Flipping to the page with the bent corner,, your eyes linger on the words, trying to absorb yourself from the story. Your eyes skim each sentence, making a mental picture of what's going on, but your brain stops, and you go back to reading the sentence. Again and again, just like before.
Adrian studies you. He always loves watching you do small things, although it breaks his heart the way your eyes glare at the page. He wishes he could take that frustration away from you. He thinks about stealing the book away and reading to you, but you give up shortly. You slam the book together and place it on your nightstand, hiding your face with your palms. Tears begin to prick at the corners of your eyes, not providing any relief to the pain in your eyes, and the pounding migraine.
“I’m just so tired,” a desperate plea, your voice squeaking. He instantly wraps his arms around you while you vent. “All I want is just a few hours– god, I’ll take just one,” you stop to catch a hiccup in your throat, the tears threatening to spill.
“Please don’t cry,” how tender his voice was could make you cry alone. One of his hands rubbed against your shoulder, while the other one slithered under your chest so he could spoon you. “Take a few deep breaths for me. Crying is going to keep you up longer.”
With your breath shakily you try to inhale, but it all comes out when your headache begins to throb even more. The lack of sleep is catching up not physically but mentally now; your mind just as tired as your body.
He holds you as you sob. At some point, you’ve shifted to clinging onto him with your face buried into his chest, his long curls providing cover from the soft hue of light in the room. He whispers sweet words of comfort to you with one of his hands rubbing your back. His chest is stained with your tears, but he pays no mind.
He gently shushes you, massaging your skin. “Shh, you’re safe. I have you.”
Slowly the tears stop, your sniffling coming to a pause. You continue to cling onto him as if letting go would kill you. Your breathing slowly levels, and for a short second, Adrian thinks you’ve succumbed to sleep – until you move your head and rest it on his shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” he says, “It truly hurts seeing you like this.” His finger goes and swipes a tear underneath your eye, and you close your eyes at the feeling of his touch. You stare into the darkness in your closed eyes, how nice it is to rest them, only unable to sleep. “I wish I could take it all away for you.”
You focus on his touch on your face, but your eyes dart open when he pulls away.
“Lay down for me,” he shifts so he’s on his side again, body creeping over yours, “Please.”
A little confused but you obliged, you rest your body completely straight flat on the bed. Using his arms he props himself up on his elbows so he’s sitting on his side.
“If this will help you rest,” his palm is on your shoulder, but fingers drag to the bottom of your neck, making you shiver, “Allow me to do this for you.”
Your stomach tingles with a mixture of nervousness and excitement– but you brush the feeling off, eagerly nodding. From how indifferent he was before, you check in one more time to make sure this was what he wanted. “Are you sure you’re okay with doing this?”
“Yes, my dear. I will do anything for you.”
You lean up to press your lips to his, your arms propping you up the best it can. He meets your kiss, lips still pressing as he lays you back down on the sheets, making you comfortable. As he pulls away, you're left catching your breath as his body cages you onto the mattress.
A gasp leaves your mouth as you feel his fangs tickle the side of your neck, making your heart pound. His touch on your skin suddenly became too hot. He presses a gentle kiss to your skin, his breath hot against the large vein in your neck. Your hands wrap around his shoulder, holding onto him for leverage.
His eyes meet yours one final time, his way of asking if you’re really comfortable doing this, and you give him a soft smile, your cheeks bunching up in the corner of your lips.
You close your eyes as his fangs sink into you, hands squeezing onto him as the sharp pain shoots through your neck. He drinks slowly, humming every time he swallows a mouthful of your blood. The pricking pain was strong, your eyes threatening to leak again, but the dizziness in your head was stronger. You leaned into it, feeling your mind get fuzzy as more and more blood leaves your veins. He was drinking from you as if he was starving.
Your eyes were heavy– you had to fight to keep them open, to stare at the ceiling and the small glimpse of your lover from the corner of your vision. Your body way too exhausted to move, let alone shift your eyes to him.
He finally retracts, pulling back so he's sitting on his knees now, but still leaning over you. His tongue swipes under his lips, licking the remaining crimson off them. He whispers your name, and his fingers rub the puncture woods on your neck to soothe the pain. It’s ineffective at grabbing your attention. You lost just enough blood.
His arms slip under your torso, pulling you flush against his chest, holding you securely against him. His head rests right besides you on the pillow, and he nuzzles his cheek into yours. Nothing could hurt you when you’re like this, not when he is here.
“Thank you,” his voice gentle as ever, “I love you so much.”
You try to whisper the words back to him, but your body doesn’t allow you to. As you surrender the fight with your eyes, you close them and feel the darkness slowly overtake you.
Adrian watches you. Watches how your breathing slowly evens out as you finally sleep for the first time in a while. The thought of the morning didn’t matter much to him, and he’d gladly stay in bed as long as you wanted to.
With you still in his arms, flush against his chest, he shuts his eyes too. His mind focuses on your warm body, how much he loves you, how happy he truly is to be able to call you his lover.
In a matter of minutes he’s right behind you, following you into dreamland. The flame in the lamp has finally gone out, engulfing the both of you in the darkness of the castle. As long as he’s with you, and you’re with him, the both of you can get through anything.
pairing: severus snape x f!reader
summary: you attend the yule ball with harry, and he abandons you to go dance with ginny. leaving you a sobbing and heartbroken mess, you’re found by snape, and he’s there for you in ways you couldn’t imagine.
warnings: nsfw, student/teacher, piv sex, unprotected, making out, fingering, graphic smut, choking
w.c: 4,243
“Y/N! Y/N I’m sorry!” His words faded the farther you ran away, palms shielding the rest of the world from your eyes. You couldn’t stop crying. Was it confusion? Pain? Sadness all mixed together, thrown into a potion and you drank it? It was getting harder and harder to breathe, and your appearance was the last thought on your mind right now. The hours Ginny spent painting your eyelids, making sure you looked absolutely gorgeous, just to go and rip Harry away from you.
You couldn’t be mad at her. It was his fault, his choice - and he chose her. You’ll always be the other girl, the second choice. Brown dirt covered the train of your dress, totally unbothered to hold.
“It can’t be like this, it can’t,” you sobbed out loud, eyes stinging and foggy. You propped yourself up against a brick wall of the castle, hiding yourself in the corner. “Why? Just why?” you cried harder, pressing your forehead to the rough concrete, staining the yellow walls with your tears. Everyone out there is having a once in a lifetime experience, living their lives with their lovers, or soon-to-be, and you’re here, all alone, dumped and thrown into the hall like a crumpled piece of paper. He would never have seriously gone out with you. Never in a million years. You were just a temporary solution, until he found the better girl. That’s how it always is with you.
There was no point to cry and sulk in the halls - you wipe the remaining tears on your lavender sleeves, smearing dark purple and mascara all over the fabric. Who cares anymore, it was a dress Ginny picked out for you. The cost and time spent no longer means anything to you. You wanted to tear it off and set it on fire.
Walking up the stairs, each time you spotted a decoration, wether it was balloons hanging or snow, made your heart crushed more and the tears begin again. It was an endless loop of sadness, anger at Harry, feeling neutral, then crying again when you’re reminded of where you are. What's it going to be like when you wake up in the middle of the night, hearing your doormates chat and giggle with excitement? Were they blown off too? Discarded? Did they spend the ‘greatest night of their lives’, dirty crying with no shoulder to cry on, all alone?
Standing in front of your common room, you cough, coughing up more tears and mucus from your running nose. It would be better to just roam outside, stay all by yourself until the cold snow numbs you from feeling again, freezing your skin so you would feel nothing.
You wonder how much fun they’re having right now. Nobody would notice you’re missing. The empty chair at your table would just be taken by Ginny, and there’d be no questioning. The white sprinkles of snow falling from the night sky were the only thing keeping you sane. Focusing on each snowflake, watching it fall into the pile of snow, then moving your eyes up to another one.
Partially, you focused on a bunch of snow piling up onto a tree branch. Holding onto the sides of your dress, you jog closer to the window, watching it all fall down. It was a beautiful night. Especially when the soft light of the lanterns throughout the Hogwarts fields was lighting it up. The tree was a large oak, with stems shooting off in every direction. The trunk was larger, having the perfect curve for sitting and reading.
“Maybe I’ll fall asleep out here,” you say, walking towards the wooden door, lifting the metal hinge and pushing it open. A large gust of wind and a few snowflakes kiss your face, showing the drastic difference in your face temperature. The stars sparkled from above, reassuring you that even if you’re alone out here, you’re not really.
Watching your step, you slowly move your feet forward, cautious of your heels, outside to the door.
The door slams in front of you, causing you to stumble backwards and almost fall right into the man behind you.
“Trying to sneak out, Miss L/N?” his voice cold as ice, colder than the grass and trees outside. Your mouth opens agate, slightly to respond, to mutter any excuse you could possibly come up with, but pure silence. “May I remind you that it is prohibited from leaving the Ball while unsupervised by a staff member?” his eyes bore right into yours, small tears prickling at yours. “Do you have any sense of how serious this is?”
The choking is back again, strangling your throat. Snape noticed your sudden change right away, keeping silent as the tears fell from your cheeks like a river. You’re back to sobbing, arms shivering and voice cracking. You try and try to get the words out, whisper any reasoning for your actions, but you can’t. You just cry harder.
He stares, a little too hard. But he was unable to do anything, too inexperienced for caring for the emotions of one of his students.
“I’m sorry,” you finally get the words out, burying your hands in your face, wetting your skin. “I-I don’t know what to do, and it hurts so freaking bad, they just all left me- Harry, he lied, and.. And he-”
“Stop.”
Your eyes widen at his sharp tone, chest clenching harder. His voice fucking terrified you, and his eyes widen at his mistake, shoulders relaxing as he tries to make the words come out better. The tears keep coming, chest pain.
“Calm down,” his voice stern. Your tears don’t stop, and you back up against the castle walls, sliding down and burying your head in your knees. So humiliating, crying in front of one of your teachers, let alone one that is harsh on you, berates you for not being good enough, and pushes you to do your best. Everything hurts, your ears rung - slowly getting harder to breathe.
Warmth on your shoulder makes you snap your eyes open in fear, and Snape is taken aback, and retracts his hand. There was an apologetic look as he crouched fully, trying to be level with you.
“Try to stop..” he pauses, “crying. Take a deep breath. In and out. Follow me.”
You really do try. In, and out. In… and out.. You couldn't dare to stare at him eye to eye, so besides closing your eyes, you result in staring at his black shoes. Listening to his breathing, you feel the cold air go through your lungs, and out through your nose.
It was scary to be cornered by Snape, and let alone being.. comforted by him. You felt vulnerable right now, yet safe with him. He saw you at the worst time of your life, and he’s taking the time to sit with you, calm you down, make you stop crying.
“I-I can’t,” the words are choked at your throat, stuck there, and he quickly counters you. “You can. Breathe slowly.”
Just in and out.
You take a big gulp of air through your mouth, holding it there. Your chest ached and tears kept running down your face, but you managed to slowly exhale through your nose with a few stutters.
“Well done.”
In and out. I- I can do this.
Slowly, everything stopped. After a few seconds, your breathing became stable. Your cheeks were still sticky with sweat, and you wiped your nose with your wrist. Snape’s hand rests on your bare shoulder, rubbing small circles. It made your heart flutter. It was completely out of character for Snape to be doing this, let alone physical affection.
“See, you can do it,” he smiles softly at you, using his thumb to swipe the remaining tears under your eyes. You lean into his touch, relishing in the warmth of his fingers. It felt good to be touched and held. Harry never did that to you, finding it too embarrassing in public.
“Can you.. Can you hold me?” you shyly ask. His face blanks, and for a second you regret asking it, thinking you ruined everything. You were about to mutter an apology and cry, the stinging in your eyes coming back.
Until he wraps his arms around you, covering you in his black robe, and hiding your face in his hair.
“I’ve got you,” he whispers, breath hot on your neck.
Your hands dig into his back, your bodies pressed together like a puzzle. You felt so safe and warm in his arms. The fabric of his robes was surprisingly soft against your skin. Your dress was incredibly revealing, and he took away all of your insecurities. His hands move up and down your back, and you accidentally gasp. But it comes out as a moan.
Pure horror washes over you. You wanted to cry again. This was already inappropriate, and you completely crossed the line. You try to pull back, but Snape holds you in place.
“I- I sorry, dear Merlin, I’m so-” your voice catches in your throat, but Snape just shushes you, pulling back and pressing his finger to your lips.
“It’s..” he pauses for a second, choosing his next words carefully. “Do you like when I hold you?”
He liked it too? Your brain became fuzzy at his response, your cheeks burning. If he were to touch them again, he would feel how hot and bothered you were.
You couldn’t ignore the heat pooling in your stomach. You break away from the hug, and adjust yourself so you’re straddling his leg, both of your thighs around his. Everything felt so hot. Even with your ball gown on and the snow outside, you were starting to sweat.
Should you be honest? Or end this now? This was dangerous territory. It would be a lie to say you didn’t feel for him. Ever since you started at Hogwarts you’ve always found him kind of cute, but as you’ve aged, those feelings blossomed into something else. You feel throbbing in your core, butterflies pooling in your stomach. You have to stop this. But your body moves on its own, slowly rubbing yourself against the rough fabric on his thigh. The friction felt so good, biting your lip back to hold another whimper. You thought he didn’t notice your actions at first, until his rough hands grabbed your hips, aiding you.
Your mind was racing. Was this really what you two should be doing? He was your teacher after all, if any of the other staff found out, you both were dead. You were too into it to really think about the consequences. You pushed those thoughts back and continued grinding on his thigh, the fabric of your dress and his pants feeling just right. You had to ask him, this wasn't enough.
“Snape?”
“Yes, darling?”
You go for it.
“Just,” you pause, not breaking eye contact, “please make me forget… I don’t want to think about anything else right now,” You whispered, staring into his eyes. He considered it for a moment, but he was hesitant.
“Are you sure? Nothing will be the same after this.” He replied. He wanted this, really wanted it as much as you, but this could cost him everything.
You just nod desperately in response, your eyes begging him to do something, anything. He understood that look and pulled you close.
“Don’t say I didn't warn you.” He teased before pressing his chapped lips to yours. It wasn't rough, not at all. It was a reminder that even if Harry had left you for Ginny, you still had someone with you, someone who was willing to stay with you. This night might have started out bad, but you couldn't bring yourself to think about that, all you wanted was him. He slowly lets you go, and you let out a sad whimper.
“We shouldn't continue this here, someone will catch us.” He remarked, his voice low. Something about the way he spoke turned you on even more. Another reason why you couldn’t focus in class. If you weren’t wet, you were soaked now. He grabs you by the hand, your soft hand in his, and you eagerly follow him into the potions classroom. Your mind was spinning with thoughts, wondering what he was going to do.
Keeping your composure wasn't easy, you were excited, and you could feel it by the way your body tingled when he touched your arm, running his hands over your torso as he looked you up and down. This kind of affection was foreign to you, but you liked it, the way he touched you all over was phenomenal. He kissed you again, his left hand resting on your lower back, and his right hand moving up the back of your dress, finding the zipper at the top and pulling it down, but not fully.
You reach up and fumble with the buttons of his jacket, undoing them one by one and eventually he lets the jacket slip from his shoulders. You started undoing the other two button up shirts; how many layers did this man have..? It took at least five minutes to get the rest of his shirts off, but finally, you were standing before him, staring at his half naked body. There was evidence of his age - his grey chest hair and wrinkly skin. As you stared more, looking over every inch of his body, you began breathing heavily. Taking in the sight of how hairy he was, it turned you on even more. He reaches around your back and finishes unzipping your dress, slowly letting it fall to the floor, staring at you in amazement.
He looked at you - all of you - and put his hands out to caress your bra. The black and green lace you put on this morning, thinking it was just in case Harry and you spent the night together, but instead, you were here with Snape.
Grabbing the top of your bra, he whispered to you.
“Green for Slytherin? You dirty girl…”, as if this was your plan all along. Your heart starts beating faster, just this morning you couldn’t have imagined you’d be here, in this moment, with him. Nothing could have prepared you for this moment.
You begin to smile, making eye contact with his staring eyes, “you wish I wore this for you,” you teased, beginning to smirk a little. He looks you up and down, and nods his head.
“I wish you did. I want to be there for you”. With that, he picks you up and throws you on the desk behind him, slowly moving your legs apart and standing between them.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” he whispers as he leans into your ear, giving goosebumps on your neck and shivers up your body. You look up at him, nervous but unable to resist him.
“Please,” you say. “I need you, Snape”. He puts his mouth right in front of your lips.
“Call me Severus,” he answers. You nod your head, as he leans into your lips. “I promise to be gentle,” he says as you kiss.
You begin kissing passionately, as his hands move down your body, stopping at your breasts. He puts his tongue in your mouth, as he slips his hands under your bra, squeezing your breasts gently. He stops kissing your lips, and begins moving down your neck, slowly kissing every inch leading up to your breasts. He undos the clasp for your bra, so your chest is fully exposed. Fully his.
Your nipples harden in the cold space of the potions classroom. You’re doing this, right here, where you sit and study in class. How will you act like everything is normal after this? Will he go back to his usual stoic and mean self after? Right now, it doesn’t matter, you just focus on the sensations happening to you. He puts his mouth on your left breast, and uses his other hand to squeeze your right. As he begins sucking, you let out a quiet moan, fully enjoying yourself. This was Severus Snape - someone who you could never imagine being so gentle, let alone with your own body. He begins licking your nipple, swirling his tongue, and you begin moaning louder.
“Are you enjoying yourself?” he asks. You look down at him, still touching you and trying to pleasure you.
“Y-yes Severus”, you cry out. He looks up and grins, satisfied.
“Be a good girl then, and lay down for me.”
He begins to move you down onto the desk, it’s cold and you’re uncomfortable. But he’s here with you, doing everything in his power to pleasure you. You fight through the discomfort and look up at him, half-naked as he strokes your breasts. He begins moving his hand down, inching closer to your underwear. He begins stroking around the edges, as you breathe heavier.
“Oh, do you want me to keep going?” he asks. You nod quickly, practically begging for more. “Darling, you must wait,” he answers. “Perhaps this is as far as we will go.”
NO! You think. Your body is practically shaking. Was he really about to tell you to put your clothes back on and leave? Just go back to your room, just like that? Panic settles into you, as you realize just how badly you need him right now.
“Severus please…” you beg. “I want this. Please.” He begins to smile again.
“Really? Let’s see how much you want me,” he says, as he slips his fingers under your panties. Instantly you begin to moan, his big fingers touching your wet cunt. He begins to rub your clit, putting his fingers inside of you and taking them back out again. Switching between focusing attention on your bundle of nerves, you begin to moan harder. “You dirty girl…you’re already wet for me,” he says.
You cannot answer, as you’re struggling to get words out. He begins fingering you faster, still treating you with care. “It feels…so…good,” you manage to get out. He continues touching you, soaked at this point.
“You’re being such a good girl Y/N,” he smirks. He leans in for a moment, kissing you hard, and putting his other hand around your throat. “You are being so good,” he says, as he begins to choke you. The sensation of him touching your clit and fingering you, paired with being choked at the same time, is too much to handle.
You begin to beg and whimper harder, “please…please…please Severus,” you stammer. “Please get inside of me.” You’re shaking so much at this point, feeling euphoric. You want him so badly, you have never wanted anything more in your life. Your entire body wants him, and you crave his touch. “Please Severus,” you say again. He doesn’t answer, and continues touching you. At this point, you feel like you’re being ignored, and begin to lean up to him. “Severus pleas-” he cuts you off with a kiss. You can’t handle it anymore. He’s touching you, choking you, and now his tongue is in your mouth.
He stops kissing you, and whispers in your ear, “are you ready?”. He drops his pants, slips off his underwear, and stands before you, at the edge of the desk. You’re confused, you haven’t even touched him at all, and yet it looked like he was about to penetrate you. “Wh-what about you?” you get out, shocked. He laughed. “I only care about pleasuring you, darling. I want you to feel good.” He inched closer, putting his large member right outside your cunt. “Is it too big for you, darling? He asked. “Or do you think you can handle it?” You look at his member, stomach sinking at the size. It was medium sized, but thick and veiny, the tip red with pre-cum leaking out. You close your eyes. “Please, Severus,” you spit it out. “I want you.”
He takes his member in his hand, and slowly begins rubbing it up and down your cunt. You squeal from the sensation, waiting for it to finally enter you. Will he ever stop teasing you? You’re about to open your mouth and say something, as he finally leans in to make out with you, and slips inside of you, fully taking control of your body.
He begins thrusting into you, taking both your hands and putting them above your body. His dark black hair draped into your face, as his tongue met yours.
“You’re such a good girl, darling”, he whispered. “I hope you can handle me.”
He begins slamming his hips into yours, his skin rough against your soft smooth skin. You desperately grab his shoulders, nails digging into the skin. You beg him to go harder, and he cuts your words off by pressing his lips to yours again, suffocating you with his tongue. It was sloppy and messy, saliva going everywhere. You moaned and tried to beg, but all that came out was whimpers.
He moves your legs higher, up above his shoulders. Deeper he thrusts into you, as he moans harder. At the same time, he takes his hand and begins rubbing your clit again. The euphoria you feel is too much to handle, and he covers your mouth with his other palm as you begin to scream from the pleasure. You are afterall, still in the potions classroom. Who knows who could be roaming the halls this late?
He takes his hand off your mouth, and instead, shoves his finger into your mouth, to suck like a good girl. You begin sucking hard, as he is still filling you up with every inch of his member, and playing with your clit until you can’t help but scream his name from pleasure.
Through all of this, he eyes remain so soft and tender. You are in disbelief that this is the same man that students fear. You feel hypnotized by how soft his gaze is at you.
Instantly, he stops touching your clit and removes his finger from your mouth. Is he done? Instead, he slips out of you, and proceeds to turn your body over.
“Y/N, get on your knees for me, won’t you?” he commands. You nod your head, mouth wide open, as you turn around, and get on your knees. Behind you, he pushes you down on your stomach as you arch your back up. He pulls you to the edge of the table, and reinserts himself with a groan.
“Are you enjoying yourself?” he asks, as he begins to thrust harder into you. His wrinkly cock sliding in and out of you like butter, you’re dripping at this point, the table a stained mess with a combination of your fluids.
He starts touching you again, and this time, it’s too much to handle. You start moaning harder and harder, as he touches you and thrusts deeper. You can’t be quiet at this point, the pleasure is taking over, and he notices it as well. He grabs his shirt from the floor, shoving it in your mouth to quiet you. You bite down, as you begin to cry out. “More! More!” you scream. He listens, and proceeds to push your back down and pull your hair. From this angle, his cock bulges through your stomach.
You begin feeling a tightness in your lower stomach, coiling up every second. You cry out from the pleasure, as he continues to penetrate you and touch you. Snape notices, pounding harder. You begin to shake, your body feeling like heaven.
“I’m going to,” you sob, “It feels so good,” your words are slurring.
His assault on your clit gets rougher, moving in small circles. “I know, darling. Cum for me,” he words stern, with a mix of grunting and groaning. “You can do it.”
With one last thrust of his hips, you feel your orgasm wash over you, your hands desperately grabbing the edge of the table. He fucks you through your high, the pleasure unlike anything you felt before. Your muscles clench around his cock, bringing him closer.
“Can I do it inside?” he asks. You can’t even get the words out, but you moan, as he looks at you from behind. He begins thrusting harder, moaning and whimpering. It gets faster and faster, until finally, he thrusts into you the hardest he has so far. You feel his cock release, as he stuffs you, the warm pooling through your insides.
He removes his cock from you, watching you leak out all over the desk. You collapse from exhaustion, and he runs to your sides, softly massaging your body.
“Y/N, are you okay?” he worries. You look at his tender eyes, and smile, eyes still droopy.
“N- never been better,” you try to rotate yourself so you’re facing him, but all your muscles are jelly. You feel the cold cloth of his robe around your naked body, before he grabs you and flips you over gently. His face is sweaty, raven hair sticking to his cheeks.
You feel his warmth leaking out of you, causing you to blush and hide your face again. Snape gently takes you in his arms again, bringing your face to his chest.
“You’re okay, I’ve got you,” he leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead.
Everything tonight was perfect, as long as you were in his arms.
pairing: mr. crawling x gn!reader
summary: you injure yourself, unable to walk and explore. to pass time, you teach mr. crawling how to kiss.
warnings: kissing, cuddling, suggestive themes, mr. crawling stands up, injured reader
w.c: 1,969
Your foot ached, constantly throbbing after you tripped and hurt it. Maybe it was a sprain? You don’t know - but it hurts like hell. Mr. Silvair made a last minute cast for it, and it was sufficient, but it had to be changed.
You can’t walk and explore with an injured foot, so you currently reside in your shared bedroom with Mr. Crawling. His head was on your chest, snuggling into you as you spoke about your day. His head would go up-down-up-down as he listened to your breathing.
He liked you, and you liked him. You two were lovers. Any second he’s with you, he’s hugging you, touching you - telling you how much he likes you and cares about you. But you two haven’t gone further than that - not that far, but in normal human relationships, there are other ways to show affection besides hugging, or in your case, head pats.
Did he know what a kiss was? Sure, he would press his forehead against yours, nuzzle his head in between your neck, and pet your hair - but he’s never kissed you.
He likes you.
So what does it hurt trying to teach him how to kiss?
“You kiss?” You asked him curiously, and he lifted his head up, tilting it to the side. No, he didn’t know what a kiss was. You had to explain to him what it was, in the best way you could due to the language barrier.
“You kiss who you like,” you explain, pointing to your lips.
“Me like you!” He giggles, grinning at you and petting your head.
“Me like you,” you respond, returning the smile to him. “No kiss no close,” was your best attempt at saying “you don’t kiss somebody you’re not close with”.
You rub your hand on his head, petting him. “Me pet you, me like you.” You lean up against the headboard, pulling him closer so now he’s sitting on top of you. He shifts closer, smiling, enjoying the feeling of your touch on him. You level yourself so now you both are sitting upright, and you engulf him in your arms, resting your chin on his left shoulder. He holds you back, wrapping his arms around your torso and pulling you tighter to him, so you two are touching chests. “Me hug you, because me like you.” You turn your face to his, so you two are face to face. “Me kiss you, because me very much like you.”
“Me very like you,” he uses his right hand to pet your head, his skin cold against your scalp. He understands that you do it with somebody you’re close with! He also knows what the would very is now, which will be very good in the future for him.
“Me kiss you, because me show you me like you,” he say to him, and he mutters another sentence back to you which you couldn’t translate, but you heard the words “like” and “show” in them.
“Me,” you touch your lips with your pointer finger, “you,” you place your finger on his lips, and he grins. “Me, you,” you repeat the same motion, then using both pointers from each of your hand, touch them together. “Kiss on mouth.”
“Kiss,” He says the word out loud slowly, before touching both of his pointer fingers together, then touching your bottom lip.
“No, no,” you smile at his confusion, finding it really cute. He was trying! And he was listening to you.
Instead, you pucker your lips together and make a ‘mwahh’ sound, and you touch your lips with the pad of your pointer finger.
“Me, my mouth, and you mouth, touch.”
His straight lips curved up into a smile, and he scoots closer to you on the mattress. He casted a shadow on you, from the light bulb on the ceiling. It made his grey skin darker, the shadows of his hair around the corner of his face.
“Me touch you?” You ask nervously, giving him a soft smile.
“Me like.”
Okay, now you can do it. You move your face closer to his, feeling his breathe on your lips. Even when he was on top of you, he was huge - scarily so.
As if he read your mind, his left hand comes up to the top of your head, rubbing and petting it back and forth, before moving down to your cheek, resting there. He giggles.
“Me kiss you,” you say to him, staring at what would be his eyes, but covered by the long black strands of his hair.
“Kiss,” he says, and retracts his hand to poke your lips, but is startled when you softly caress his cheeks. Your other hand is placed on his shoulder, right in the middle of his ice cold skin and the fabric of his black kimono.
“I kiss you, yes?” You whisper, and gently crawl up more on top of him so you can reach his face. Instinctively, he places his palm against your lower back to hold you in place. The sudden contact made your heart throb, and you felt his ice cold skin through the thin fabric of your dress.
You were nervous, yes - it’s the first time you will kiss someone, and the first time you’re truly being intimate with him.
Your body was nervous too, your hands slightly shook as you traced his jaw with your fingers. He took notice of this immediately. He grabs your hand off his cheek, feeling how it was slightly clammy, and he rubbed his fingers around on your palm.
“You warm,” he grins, “me like.”
He was holding onto you, and holding your hand - this was the best time to kiss him.
You lean up and press your lips against his, and you shut your eyes. He let out some sort of whimper, almost inducible.
“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean-“ your pull away from him, falling back so you’re now sitting on his shins, and his smile drops.
Both his hands hover in the air, and he frowns. Did you
“You no like?”
“No, no, I, me hurt you?” You stare at his face, your voice slightly creaking, fighting the urge to cry. You were about to whisper even more apologies before he softly pressed his lips to yours. It was different than last time, your heart throbbing, and you close your eyes and kiss him back. You place both your hands on his face, kissing him softly.
After what felt like a few minutes, you pull away, breaking the kiss, earning a slight whine from his mouth. Your head felt foggy, and you were out of breath - his chest was rising and breathing at an insanely rapid pace.
“It doesn’t have to be on your mouth, though,” you add. You grab his hand, and press your lips to his knuckles. Then you flip his hands over and kiss his wrist, his skin ice cold.
You drop his hand, earning a frown from him, but you engulf his face in your hands , and softly kiss his cheek.
“Again! Again!” His grin widens, and you kiss his cheek again.
“Aha! Stop you!!” you laugh as he attacks your cheeks with kisses, peppering them all over your face before pulling back to look at you, and kissing your lips. He kept kisses more and more, getting more sloppier by the second.
You finally pull away, leaving a line of saliva between the both of your lips.
“Noodle! We shared noodle!” He points to your lips then his, and uses his fingers to trace the shape of a pasta noodle.
“It looks like a noodle, aww that’s cute!!” you giggle at his comment, and he dives on top of you to kiss you again, knocking your back to the mattress, head hitting the soft pillow. He’s right on top of you, caging you in, and he’s about to kiss you again when-
“Is foot healed? Me need to see- oh.”
Mr. Silvairs eyes were covered by the cloth that shielded his eyes, but his mouth widened in.. horror? He looked disturbed at the sight.
“Sorry! Uh.. uh yeah.. it’s better - good, me foot good, still pain,” you gently push Mr. Crawling off you, and he whines in response, but wraps his arms around you and leans his head on your chest.
“I come look, go to the room,” he backs up, shooting Mr. Crawling an odd stare (which Mr. Crawling couldn’t see, as he was smiling up at you and his fingers were buried in your locks), before shutting the door.
“We should really lock the door next time, they probably think we’re up to something else,” you laugh, pulling back the sheets and throwing your legs off the bed. He looks at you, confused, and tilts his head - he doesn’t even know what ‘else’ means, and you feel the rise of heat in your cheeks.
“N-nothing, forget what I said. Let’s go find Mr. Silvar, I need him to check my foot out.”
You're about to stand up, when the sudden throbbing is back in your foot. You can’t walk like this! You can hop and use the wall for support, or Mr. Crawling can help hold you as you walk, or maybe you’ll have to join him in crawling on the floor.
“Foot hurt? Me hold you,” he crawls off the bed, and slowly stands up to his full height, completely casting a shadow onto you and engulfing you in his outline. His grin widened as he stared down at you.
“You don’t have to stand! It’s okay, I’ll hop- hey!” his long arms scoop you up, carrying you bridal style. “You don’t need to, I’m fine I promise!” His fingers accidentally tickling you.
“Me carry you! Me carry!” He leans his head down and kisses you, his long black hair covering your entire face.
He opens the door with his free hand, the other one holding you, and he ducks, making sure to not to hit his head on the doorframe.
Geez, I wonder how many times he’s accidentally hit his head before! You say to yourself, but as you’re about to making it full through the door, his forehead comes in contact with the roof, earning a giggle from him.
He’s too cute for this world.
------------------
Your back rests against the grey couch, and you sit besides Mr. Chopped. He was too busy rambling about his day, his face making so many different facial expressions. A clicking sound is heard, and you both turn your attention to the door opening, and suddenly Mr. Crawling is right at your legs.
“Hello you!” He giggles, and places his head on your thighs so he’s staring up at you.
It's only been two minutes since he put you here. He went to go fetch Mr. Silvair to check out your foot - he said meet you in the living room and he wasn't there? So naturally, Mr. Crawling has to seek him out.
“You two weird!” Mr. Chopped’s face turns angry, “weird weird!!”
Ignoring his comment, Mr. Crawling climbs up onto you, sitting on your lap, and covering you with his entire body.
The door opens once more, and Mr. Silvair comes out with a syringe in hand.
“Me see your leg,” Mr. Silvair asked, moving close to you. You reluctantly stick your foot out, but it was covered by the fabric of Mr. Crawlings kimono. “Crawling, move please?”
“No!” there’s that high pitched giggle.
You go to place your hands on his head, and hopefully push him off gently, but he lifts his head off your chest and smashes his lips onto yours instead.
Uh?? He’s kissing me in front of everyone!
You hear two people sigh, and Mr. Silvair walks away.
happy holidays!
headcanons of how each merc would celebrate christmas, and some of the gifts they would get you
warnings: alcohol, setting stuff on fire, blowing stuff up, general holiday chaos, poorly written
w.c: 1,058
Scout
Wakes up at 5 am, and runs downstairs only to find literally nobody awake so he sits and waits
Accidentally ends up waking everybody up in the process
But he does make everybody on the team a present!
Wraps them poorly in printer paper, or some of Engie’s thrown away blueprints
He hands you the present he got you, with is in a cardboard box and wrapped with blue paper and tons of clear tape
Prefers to make you something but will buy you something as well
Such as a duct tape wallet, a drawing, or some music cds he found at the thrift store he’d think you’d like!
Uses this as an opportunity to give Miss Pauling a gift, only for her to be working :(
Give him baseballs or something Tom jones related and he will be crying from happiness <3
Pyro
Is the one who got the Christmas tree
Probably came to work one day with their fire axe in one hand, and tree in the other
Decorates the tree with lights and colorful ornaments that they made themself!
Adding onto Scouts arts and crafts, Pyro will definitely make their own as well!
Might accidentally burn the tree down
Super excited to give everybody their presents!!
You gifted them a pink sparkly lighter, and after opening it, they ran and hugged you so hard off the ground you couldn’t breathe
keeps their suit on but throws the cutest ugly sweater over it!
Will match sweaters with you too!!
Makes the BEST hot chocolate hands down
Soldier
“THIS TREE IS NOT AMERICAN ENOUGH!”
Everything he hangs is all American flag themed. Also wakes up wearing his American flag pajamas in the morning
You can tell exactly what was wrapped by him, because the paper is the American flag.
Has tried to hang up ears as ornaments, but Spy took them down.
If you are wearing green instead of red he will yell at you for disrespecting the American spirit (he doesn’t no or care that green is a Christmas color)
Gifts you literally the best clothes, weapons and gear, except it’s all american flag themed so just be okay with that
Demoman
“MERRY CHRISTMAS LADS!”
The best person here to celebrate with hands down.
Greats everybody with a ‘Merry Christmas’ when he sees them in the halls or somewhere in the base
You decided to get him a nice sweater, and another bottle of scrumpy for his present
Obviously he can tell that its a bottle, since you wrapped it in wrapping paper
Accidently blows furniture up after partying too hard
Also will put on holiday music, before Scout hijacks the vinyl and it’s forced to be turned off because his music taste is garbage.
Sniper
He’s already awake way before Sis, and waits until half of the mercs are up before going to the base to celebrate Christmas
He can’t fit an entire tree in his camper, but he has a very very small baby pine tree that he found while hunting. He put it in a little dirt pot and has it next to his window.
Doesn’t really expect presents on Christmas, so he doesn’t go out of his way to get into the holiday spirit that much.
Get him a present and he will be so stunned, it seems like he doesn’t like the gift (he really does!! He’s just shocked somebody actually put thought and effort into it)
Prefers things that are handmade and one of a kind
All though he isn’t partying, he will sit on the couch by the fire and just listen to everyone talk
Medic
Obviously there are mercs that medic likes better than the others
And I think this means the more he likes you, the even more insane of a gift he’ll get you
He hands you a plain white box, and you open the cardboard lid to see one of his doves.
Before it starts flying around the room and getting stuck in the tree
“I heard jou speak about wanting a pet, so you can have Archimedes' brother!”
Sleeps in really comfy pajamas, that are red and patterned in snowflakes
If you mention that you like them, he’ll definitely get you a matching pair and you can join him and heavy twinning :)
Heavy
Has a traditional way of celebrating
Sends letters and postcards to his family
On base though, he will help make things feel like a holiday, and make everyone feel like family (since he does see his teammates as family!)
Gifts everyone scarfs, gloves, and mittens for everybody to keep warm during winter and the nights
The scarfs he gets are soooo warm and comfy that medic wears his 24/7
If you’re into reading, he will get you either some Russian stories that were translated into English, or ones that he translated himself.
Overall literally the best person to spend any holiday with <3
Engineer
Makes the star for the top of the tree, and the lights for the tree all by scratch
Will also bake with pyro! The kitchen in the base will smell so good of cake, cookies, and banana bread
On Christmas Eve, pyro and him go and place a plate of cookies and milk on a table next to the tree for Santa
Seeing Pyros excitement when the plate was just crumbs made his entire day
Gifts you a custom little gadget he made himself
If you want to join him bake and cook he’ll be super happy
This is probably the one day that he’s not inside his workshop, and he’s spending time with everybody as much as he can
Spy
The most reserved out of all the mercs
Comes down to wish everybody happy holidays, before cloaking and disappearing off to whatever he usually does.
When things calm down, and people like Scout and Pyro aren’t bouncing off the walls, he’ll grab a glass of wine and join the rest of the mercs on the couch
Miss Pauling
She’s working unfortunately :(
Comes by later at night, and celebrates and drinks with everybody.
Although she has no interest in Scout, she picked up a couple of Tom Jones CDs to make him happy.
When I mean comes by, she’s there for like 10 minutes, drinks an entire bottle of wine, and then goes back to work.
pairing: philip ojomo/the wraith x gn!reader
summary: after seriously injuring yourself, philip helps you get fixed up.
warnings: Gore, a lot of blood, crying, comfort, kissing, cuddling, swearing.
w.c: 1,283
Your legs carry you into the killer shack, running so fast while holding the massive gash on your arm. Blood followed behind you, leaving drips of crimson on the grass and covering your blue sweater in red. As soon as you’re inside, you collapse underneath the window, giving you moonlight to open your medkit and try to stop the bleeding.
You dab the gauze on the cut, instantly absorbing blood but the stinging was so painful, you had to bite down on the collar of your shirt. Digging through the medkit, you pull out another gauze, some antiseptic wipes, and a roll of elastic bandage. You pull the opening to the wipes, taking one out, and holding it above your arm, delaying the inevitable pain.
Finally, you give in, placing the alcohol wipes directly on the wound. The moment your skin came in contact with it - you cried so loud, you were sure Philip could hear you from all the way across the realm. You tried to catch your breath, to calm down, but the pain was so excruciating you couldn’t. The bleeding didn’t stop, and at this rate you're hyperventilating. Hot tears dripped down your cheeks, and you grab the roll of bandages.
As you open the small cardboard box, you hear the sound chime of a bell - the familiar ding ding ding, and through teary eyes you watch as The Wraith uncloaks in front of you.
“Philip! H-how long have you been here for?” you say through sobs, and he stares at the wall, before motioning to the door, and holding up one finger. He just got here.
He stood awkwardly at the entrance of the shack, before his eyes widened in horror at your arm and the blood covering you. Before you know it, his weapon hits the floor and he's right by your side.
Philip holds your cheek, before placing his chin on top of your head to try and calm you down. His hands find your back, and he rubs them up and down. He tries his best to tell you everything’s okay, that he loves you, that he’ll help, but he can’t. He tries to shhhhh you, but the only thing that comes out are soft growls. He moves his head to press his forehead against yours, and he tilts his head down at your cut arm. You continue to try and wrap your arm, your hand shaky, making the bandage uneven. Philip watches, and before he can take the bandage and do it for you, your cry even more.
“Ah- shit!” you whisper, your finger accidentally scratches the cut, causing it to sting and throb even more. Philip fixates on your arm, and he tilts his head to the side. He softly snarls, making you turn your head towards him. “I’m okay, Philip. It’s not b-bad at all,” your voice betrayed you, stuttering as you’re on the verge of tears. He could read you perfectly, he knew you were in pain, and no matter how hard you held the bandage to your skin it didn’t stop bleeding.
He tilts his head, thinking as he stares at you. “I cut it on a generator, I’m serious Philip, you don’t need to help, it’s okay. Please.”
His eyes shifted from the medkit beside you to your pained face, before he scooches closer towards you. Using his left hand, he tenderly places his rough fingers under your forearm, trying to be as gentle as possible as he holds you in place. He knows how easy it can be to hurt you, to scratch you with his sandpaper-like skin. He takes the roll of bandage in his other hand, and wraps it around your arm. After your entire arm is covered, he rips a piece off and tucks it under the side, making sure it stays in place.
“Thank you.” You whisper. His eyes meet yours once again, still holding onto you. You can see him try to smile at you, the dark gruff skin on his cheeks move very slightly, and he closes his eyes and tilts his head down. Even when sitting down, he completely towers over you. His form casted a large shadow, big enough that he can see it himself. The starlight leaked through the cracks of the wooden walls, making it bright enough to see everything. The breeze began to pick up more, and branches hit the side of the shack. You were getting colder by the second, and it made your arm throb more.
Before you can pull the fabric of your sleeve down, Philip reads your mind - and does it for you. His icy fingers touched your skin a few times, making you shiver. His hand lingers on the cuffs, before letting go of the fabric and pulling back to look at you. You wonder if it's possible for him to warm up, if his hands are always cold - or maybe he’s just cold blooded. He was a human before, no- he is human. He shows more humanity than any other killers here, and you memorized the pattern of his heart beating.
His hands find both your shoulders, making you flinch as you’re pulled out of your thoughts. He softly squeezes you, an inaudible apology, and he slides his hands down your arms to your hands, tangling his fingers with yours. Your warmth made his heart throb, and he squeezes your hands tighter.
He gently pulls you up from the floor, making you whisper his name in confusion. Still holding your hand, you let him lead you out of the killer shack, and he pulls you through the stacks of crushed cars, and the trees in the scrapyard. He made a small glance to you, noticing how your body slightly shivered each time a gust of wind came, and he pulls you closer to him.
“Where are we going?” you ask, and he points towards the gas station, and you notice the hatch in the distance.
“You want me to leave now? The entity won’t force me until for a couple more- hey!” he scoops you up his arms, carrying you bridal style. Your head was now against his chest, his shirt fabric soft against your cheek, keeping it warm. He walks closer to the humming sound, and steps over a couple of rocks and tree stumps. He pulls you tighter, and instinctively your arms wrap around his torso. He slightly jerks at the sudden contact, not expecting it.
As you two reach the hatch, you look up at Philip, his eyes meeting yours once more. They looked shinier and sadder than usual, and he lowers you closer to the grass while still holding you.
“Wait, wait,” he goes to lower you into the hatch, but your hands shoot to his biceps and he stops. “Can I see you as soon as we’re back? At the campfire? I’ll sneak off right away.” He tilts his head before nodding, bringing the hand holding your legs up to your face, caressing your cheek, and your legs are hung over his.
“I’ll meet you by the lake, the usual spot,” he circled his hand on your back in acknowledgement, and your hand to his face.
“Goodbye then,” you pull him towards you and your lips press against his. He closes his eyes and kisses you back, his chapped lips deepening the kiss.
Your heart throbs as he breaks the connection, and he steadily lowers you into dark mist. The black consumed you, making your mind fuzzy and numbing the throbbing on your arm.
After a few seconds, you open your eyes to the campfire, and your other survivor friends sitting besides you on the wood log.
SFW Alphabet headcanons with the best character ever Wyatt! I tried to keep this as GN as possible, although I wrote it with a F!reader in mind. Might be ooc? Oh well, Wyatt is a hopeless romantic <3
warnings: Major Wolfenstein spoilers, nazis, drug abuse, suicide, family issues, death, self harm, gore, child abuse, cuddling, kissing, mentions of having kids
w.c: 4,661
A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)
Wyatt is always affectionate to his friends and members of the resistance. Always handing out genuine compliments, shouting “Nice job!” or “You got this!”. Especially with people he’s close too, giving shoulder pats. He also loves giving visual gestures - thumbs up or clapping.
He’s someone who loves fist bumps and high-fives. Seriously. Planned out something awesome? Jump up and down and hold your hand up to him. He’s instantly high fiving you back.
When Wyatt starts to feel for you, small things like touching or complimenting you make him extremely nervous. It doesn’t mean he wont stop doing it though. He will begin slightly touching you more. Instead of shouting your name, he might just gently tap your shoulders, in a soft way not to startle you. Small things like sitting alone together become more intimate, listening to music, or reading books together. Wyatt will read aloud to you for hours. If he’s reading his usual nature books, he will turn the pages to show you the images, and drawings of the birds and fishes.
When you two enter a relationship, at first he will be attached to your hip. He understands that you don’t have to be holding hands or leaning against each other every second, but he gets really excited when you first start dating.
He will always lend you his green military jacket anytime. Deny it all you want, he will make you wear it. If you tell him you're okay and fall asleep in the cold weather, you’ll wake up to it covering you like a blanket. Never minds lending you his sweater.
Regularly reminds you how much you mean to him. Whether it's a simple “I love you” or a long hug, he will communicate it to you. Sometimes he’s so exhausted and tired, and he just seeks you out just to hold him. He believes you should know that you are loved, so he will tell you every chance he can.
B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)
If you wanted to be his friend, you would have to be yourself. Be kind to others, be compassionate, and don’t be afraid to use your voice. Somebody who isn’t afraid to fight for what they believe in is the kind of person he loathes to hang around.
You would definitely become friends during the time of The New Order, being another person who joined the resistance after being rescued by BJ and Anya. But if you go out of your way to be kind, and not be afraid to be yourself, he will notice you. If you stayed up late at night and read stories to Max, volunteered to assist anytime, he would admire you and join you. If you ever told him something like a simple “goodnight”, he’d fall head over heels for you. He has a hard past with his family. Give him hope that people can truly be good.
As a best friend? You two are the Dynamic duo. Always goofballs, and always brightening everyone else's day. Probably a little too chatty sometimes though, Grace constantly has to tell you two to turn it down a notch when everybody is exhausted.
C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)
Please touch him, hold his hand, give him hugs. Poor boy is so touch starved. It's been years since someone has shown him physical affection.
I think he enjoys cuddling, but it would definitely be awkward at first. You would have to initiate it the first time, being the one to curl up to him in bed.
I think cuddling would go something like this:
1. The two of you have your backs on the wall against his bed, and you slowly wrap your arms around him and nuzzle yourself into his chest, while he is still sitting upright. This would turn into him hugging you back, pulling the both of you down on the bed and him cuddling you as you two rest.
2. He cradles you facing towards him.
D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?
When things get better, he would love starting a family and growing old with you. He would absolutely dream of being a Dad, playing with his kids, letting them ride on his shoulders and back. It’s something he isn’t afraid to admit to you. When America is officially liberated, and he can live without fear of you or him being harmed, he would sit down and have that conversation with you. Whether you adopt, have kids, or decide not to have any at all, as long as he can be by your side, he is happy. The only thing he is scared about is turning into his father. Please reassure him about that.
He is also incredibly organized. He knows exactly where every single object in his room is, always has his bed made and his pillows puffed, and always pushes in his chair. He constantly helps Set organize his lab, and clean it up. His desk can get messy sometimes, but he makes sure to keep it clean.
He’s.. an alright cook. Growing up, he mostly just helped his mother set the table and organize the dinnerware. He remembers a few recipes from cooking with his mother. During his time in the war though, he had to live on canned food and anything he could consume. So he definitely is NOT picky on what he eats. It doesn’t mean he doesn’t like or enjoy cooking! He’ll always offer help to the people in the kitchen on the U-boat, weather just help cleaning up or grabbing ingredients. He will always ask to join you and help you cook if you ever do though!
Extremely random, but he keeps the coffee machine and mugs clean. He would make coffee for Caroline and anybody else who wanted some each morning, so she wouldn’t have to go out of her way to get it. He left her mug in the exact spot it was left from when she passed.
E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)
He would try to not let it get to that point. He would be honest, communicate with you, work things out. He would try to be the bigger person until the end. Unless you’ve done something serious to hurt him or somebody else, he would still try to remain friends even if it may not work out. You two will always be a team no matter what.
He would probably speak to William about it first, and then bring you to a secluded area. Obviously his heart hurts. It would be so painful for him to get over you, since you two work together every single day. Unless he’s sober, his drug abuse might appear more frequently just to get his mind off of everything.
I don't see him as somebody who would break up with his partner very easily, you would seriously have to be a terrible person to get this man to leave you.
F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)
If you two had stayed together during the events of the first two games, he would want to marry you. He's a very committed person, he’s never given up effort or slaked in anything. If he loves you, he will never ever let you down. However, I don't think he’d be in a rush to get married at all. He might have some family issues he needs to work through first, since he doesn’t want to end up like his father. If the two of you continue to get each others backs and support each other, he’d be so happy to change your last name to his.
G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)
On the outside, he’s a mixture of tough and soft. He’s a natural leader, so of course he will have his loud and direct moments. But he cares about people, and he believes in doing the right thing, so his concerns for his people? That outweighs everything. He will drop anything to go and help save people, and make sure his people are safe. Sometimes, he does force himself to be “tough” and direct, but he’s naturally a soft person.
The moment he falls in love with you, his handshakes or hugs would transform from “bros” to you being made of glass. He would always softly hold your hand if you needed to hold onto him; gently carry and cradle you if you get injured and need to see Set as fast as possible. If you were to ever, ever get hurt and he patched you up, his fingers on your skin would be so delicate as if he was afraid of injuring you more.
Now onto the ugly: he does drugs. He is suicidal. It takes a lot of trust for him to open up to people about his personal issues, and when he tells you about them, all you need to do is listen. Just be there for him, and he’ll be at peace. Comfort him, tell him it's okay and you’ll help him through this. He might be known as the ‘good kid’, but this terrifies him how vulnerable he is at this moment.
If you experience the same thoughts and feelings as he does, or self harm, he would listen to you anytime. He cares so so much for you and it breaks his heart to hear what you’re going through. He is the world's greatest listener, change my mind.
Really random, but he would never slam your door or close it loudly. He's closing it as slow as possible to not disturb you.
H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)
Loves hugs!. If you two are platonic he will do the greeting hug that he did to William when he saw him for the first time in a couple of years, and would also properly hug you, sometimes letting his arms linger for too long.
When you two enter a relationship, they become a lot more emotional. He'd hug you every time you leave, everytime you go back to your room. He'd wrap his arms around your torso, and either rest his head on your shoulder or rest his chin on your head. If you two are sitting down, he would hug you from the side, which would then turn into him cuddling you and cradling you in his lap.If you were to hug him, bury your head on his chest so he can hold you as close as possible to him.
I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)
Either when he confesses to you, or when you’re going on a dangerous mission.
It would either be a “I’m in love with you, Y/N, I love you so much,” or a “I’ll see you later, I love you”. If you told him those words first, he would repeat them back and kiss you softly. But he 100% tells you those words every time either of you go on a mission and leave the base.
As you follow Grace and William into the gray helicopter, you pause and turn around when you hear Wyatt call your name. He looks concerned, nervous - his eyebrows were lifted and his hands held onto the bottom of his jacket.
“Is everything okay? what's wrong?” you ask. Your stomach was twisting with nervousness, as nobody usually walked here unless they had something urgent to say in person.
He closes the gap between you, lifting your chin up and pressing his soft lips to yours. It was short, and he placed his hands on your shoulders.
“You got this. I'll be on the headset if you need anything from me,” he locks his eyes with yours, earning a nod from you. “Be safe, I love you.”
Tells you he loves you every single night. If you’re sleeping together, he will whisper it to you then kiss you. If you're in your room about to fall asleep, he will go to your room and tell you. if he’s out with the resistance somewhere, he will tell Anya to put you on the headset so he can tell you about his day (oh, and how much he loves you).
Also wouldn’t be afraid to say it in public after you two have been together for some time. Obviously everybody will find out eventually, but he is nervous with his words and letting everyone see this side of him will be hard.
J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)
Not a jealous type, as he completely trusts you. If there are any issues regarding you and him, or speaking to other people, he will talk to you about it. There aren’t that many people in the resistance living alongside you two, so it’s pretty well known you two are together. However, if someone were to flirt or get a little too touchy with you, he’ll go over to you, hold your cheeks and kiss you.
Depending on your family circumstances, if you have a healthy relationship with a parent or guardian, he will envy you SO much. It’s not really jealousy, and he’ll never admit it to you because it's such a scary and heartbreaking topic for him. You would have to bring it up to him if you would like to talk about it.
K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)
In the beginning of your relationship, he will always ask you for permission. Unless you initiate it first, he will be a ball of nerves and anxiously ask if he can kiss you. Whether it’d be looking at your lips then your eyes, quietly asking, “may I?”, or just asking directly. Communication is very important to him.
When he kisses you, his lips are always soft and his kisses are tender. His lips are smooth, most of the time not chapped but can be sometimes.
Will kiss your forehead, top of your head, and your cheeks. Will hold your hands in his and just kiss them all over.
Kiss him anywhere you'd like. He will still become a flustered mess. However, if you softly kiss his scars, it would probably make him cry from happiness.
L = Little ones (How are they around children?)
Loves being around kids, but can’t help the lingering nervousness around them. I can see him asking to be the first to hold a baby, or reading stories aloud to Anya and BJ’s kids. It takes him some time to gather the courage and ask her though, and when he does, the kids love him!
M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)
If you two fall asleep in the same bed, the two of you will be touching in some way. Whether a leg against the other, holding your hand, or just cuddling, you will always feel the warmth of him. He is always awake before you. If you have to get up at a certain time, he will softly caress your hair and rub your back until you wake up. However, if you have nothing to do, he will lay in bed with you until you wake up.
N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)
He prefers to fall asleep with you, but sometimes he will head to bed by himself. He will always tell you goodnight when he’s heading off to bed. If you two aren’t sleeping together, he sleeps on his side and holds onto something.
When you are sleeping together, he will hold you. He prefers to hold and spoon you, but if you want to wrap your arms around him and lay your head on his chest, he will love that as well. Sometimes sleeps with a shirt on, but most of the time he doesn’t wear a shirt. Meaning when he holds you, he is a heater. Even if you sleep in a shirt or a long sleeve, you will feel his body heat through your shirt.
If there is anything on your mind or his, now is a time you can speak about it. Unless it's super serious (which he would prefer to speak about when you two aren’t exhausted), he will listen to you for hours.
He will wait to make sure you fall asleep. He will sit and exhaust himself, no matter how tired he is, just to make sure you fall asleep peacefully. He also has a hand on you at all times - in your hair, softly tracing circles on your back, or holding your hand.
O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)
If you two are good friends and start to become closer, he would tell you personal things. I don’t see him being the kind of person to keep everything in, but once he trusts you, he will spill out his feelings all the time. If you trust him with your personal things too, he’d be more inclined to reciprocate. Vulnerability scares him.
P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)
Wyatt can be uppity sometimes, but he tries his best to keep his cool. If he sees somebody he cares about get injured, he will get aggravated. Not in a scary or aggressive way, but more so out of pure worry.
Confrontation can upset him easily, too. You can overhear him in his room arguing with BJ, and it takes him some time to cool off. When he’s feeling angry or upset, he usually doesn’t know how to deal with it in a healthy way, so he’ll find himself in his quarters alone or at the shooting range. You can try to approach him, but he will tell you politely that he needs time to himself.
However, if you are ever injured, he wouldn’t know what to do.
“A-are you crazy? You could’ve gotten yourself killed!” He crouches over you, holding onto both of your shoulders, his eyes wide with horror, betraying the anger his voice originally had. His hands shook slightly, and the more he spoke, his voice cracked, almost with fear. Fear he could’ve lost you, because you wanted to protect him.
You laid on the concrete road, elbows scraped and covered in red. A panzerhund had run after Wyatt when he wasn't looking, and you instinctively moved in front of him and sprayed it with bullets. You killed it, but it still shoved you forward and slamming you against the hard ground. The sound of your yelps made Wyatts heart drop - his stomach sank. The sight of you sprawled out besides the robot made him almost throw up on the spot.
Then he dashed towards you, furious. Furious that you did something so stupid, so utterly ridiculous. He could fight it off himself. He's strong enough - so why did you even think about doing that??
He wanted to scream at you for trying to protect him, and getting yourself hurt. But he couldn’t. His throat was full of needles, his fingers held onto your coat for dear life, and he just wanted to cry.
“I’m okay Wyatt. Seriously, it’s just a scratch,” you compose yourself, trying to mask your stuttering from pain. He knows you’re in pain. You can’t hide it from him, and he presses a desperate kiss to your lips.
Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)
Remembers every small detail about anything you tell him. To your hobbies, your favorite CD, or the crevices in your hand, he knows it in the top of his head.
If he's under the influence of something, he won’t remember as well.
R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)
The first time you fixed his collar.
It's something so common and small. The first time your fingers touched his neck, lifted the white piece of fabric and folded them downward, it felt so familiar, and safe. You stepped back and gave him that soft smile that he loves so much, and he thought his cheeks would get third degree burns.
S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)
In a relationship way; he knows you would never cheat or betray his trust. So if he sees somebody interested in you, he knows you will tell them you happily have a boyfriend. If you were to get harassed or in an argument with someone else (regarding literally anything) he will not hesitate to step in immediately. Even if it's a close friend - if he hears something off putting he will check in to make sure everything's okay.
Wyatt is a little too much of a meat shield on the field. He cares about you so much, and doesn't want to see you hurt. Ever. He gets very anxious that you might end up seriously injured or dead if you go on a mission, although he never ever stops you from doing them. He encourages you to go all out and do your best, and kill those nazis. His face lights up when he sees you enter through the door when you’re back.
He’s a strong man, physically and mentally. He’s been through a lot on the battlefield, so he will tell you not to stress about him. You both have an earpiece, so you can always communicate during missions. Simply just watch his back, give him call outs, and he’ll be safe - which you do anyway.
Something he cannot protect himself from is himself. If he's spiraling and attempting to use drugs, protect him from himself. Hold him, hug him. If he pulls away from you, grab him by the shoulders and tell him to listen directly. His head is filled with thoughts at this moment, and the only thing that can calm him down is your physical touch. Hug and hold him softly, and throw both of your arms around his shoulders. When he buries his head in your neck, you can slowly try to talk to him. It will take him time to calm down, but it will always make it better after.
T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)
Goes all out! Wyatt will make and give you trinkets, small things he thinks you’ll like, and absolutely melts when you return the favor. When he can’t see you or hang out, he will leave things outside your door. Most common being J’s music CDs.
Since the both of you live on the largest boat in the world in the middle of the ocean, buying gifts isn’t an option. However, that isn’t important to Wyatt. He prefers to make you one of a kind things, and pass down to you things of his he thinks you will appreciate having.
He also loved making things with you. He has been borrowing a member of the resistance's camera, and taking photos of you two. Reading a book on the couch in Sets lab, when you look really pretty, or the two of you on the empire state building before hell breaks loose. He loves taking pictures and scrapbooking with you.
The two of you have a running joke about taking random things home from missions, like a souvenir. Most recently, from breaking into the Nazi headquarters.
“Why is this on your desk?” Anya questioned, picking up the object.
“Oh yeah, Y/N told me it looked like me, so I took it.”
“Wyatt, it’s a doorknob.”
V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)
Not too concerned, but his literal description says “always clean-shaven”. I don't think he cares more about what he wears but how he presents himself. He definitely prefers to dress nicely.
I don’t see him as too insecure about the scar on the side of his face. It kind of just became a part of him. However, if you did press tons of kisses onto his cheeks, he would melt.
W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)
He's definitely missing a personal part of him. His father hated him, his mother died by suicide - he only considered William and the resistance his “family”. If you two started a relationship together. He would never be able to forget you. ever. I also believe this would be the first relationship he’s been in. He might’ve had one or two that only lasted a few days back in middle school, but you’re his first for everything.
That being said, if you’re gone for short periods of time he would be okay. He understands. Being a part of the American resistance is a risk, and you aren't going to be together 100% of the time. If you’re gone for a while or spontaneously with a goodbye, he might spiral and get very stressed. He isn’t somebody that wants to depend on someone for everything, but he can’t help but love you so much.
X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)
Yellow is his favorite color. Not a vibrant yellow like the sun, or the bright gold petals of a sunflower - a soft, very candle light yellow is his favorite. Although he’s constantly covered in the color green, he loves the color. It’s calming and pretty.
This shade of yellow can also be found in sunsets. Since everybody's always in the boat, he hasn't been above deck since the death of Caroline, and being up there without a mission purpose would make his heart break.
The first time you both headed up onto deck, and watched the sunset – listening to the water crashing against the ship, the orange and cream colors mixing together as the sun dipped under the water. That moment will always be engraved in his mind. Although you’ve done it only a handful of times, he will continue to take you up there and watch the stars come out.
Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)
Swearing. I know it's something small but please don't excessively curse around him. In certain circumstances it's okay, like him almost getting mauled by a panzerhund. But if you’re going to throw in the f word unrationalized? Yeah he might tell you nicely to watch your words.
Even during intimate times, he doesn’t like cursing and it makes him feel bad. His mother probably made him wash his mouth out with soap if he swore.
Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)
Sleeps on his side and cuddles a pillow. Can fall asleep anywhere though. In the old resistance base, he’s slept at his desk before, and slept god knows where when he was imprisoned. He could sleep anywhere, but would prefer sleeping on a bed.
I don't see him as much of a roller. If you’re sleeping with him, he’d either spoon you from behind and not let you move the entire night, or you hold onto him and he’s frozen. But he is always holding onto something when he sleeps.
First time he’s ever slept in the same bed or on the floor with you, he’s holding you someway. whether your hand, a simple hand on your side or full on cuddling you, he needs to know that you’re there. Bonus points if you initiate it first, it would make him so happy.
here are some headcanons and a short oneshot i wrote about scouts hands, and how it would feel holding them!
might be slightly OOC - i hope you enjoy! ♡
w.c: 1,075
♡ Scout absolutely loves holding hands with you! It’s a way he shows that he loves you. Although this man uses his words a lot, he can tell you a thousand times more just by intertwining his fingers with yours.
♡ Whether his bandages are off or on, he will love to hold your hand!
♡ Scouts fingers are soft and smooth, though slightly dry around the pads of his fingers. His fingernails are not too long – he has a habit of picking his nails. They are short enough that when his hand envelopes yours, you never feel the sharpness of his nails.
♡ His hand temperature changes depending on what he is doing. If he’s outside battling, they will be more warm. If he’s inside sketching, they might be slightly clammy.
♡ In the winter his hands can be incredibly warm. He’s always moving and physically active, so his body heat is always higher. This includes his palms. They are warm, but if he rubs them together and holds your hands, you will never need gloves again.
♡ He loves simple hand holding, just intertwining his fingers with yours is enough for him. Watching a movie, going for a walk around the base, or just cuddling - he will want to be holding hands with you!
♡ If he’s taking you somewhere, or going to show you something, he will pull you by the hand softly, or with both of his hands around your arm. He loves having physical touch. Especially when your hand gently grazes his after he hands you a baseball car. It just gives him butterflies.
♡ He is extremely fond of PDA. He gets so excited at the thought of holding your hand in public, showing to the other mercs that he has a partner, and just bounces up and down about it. But when you actually hold hands for the first time? He is SO nervous you can hear his dog tags shaking. It takes him some time for his hands to not twitch or tighten, him to stutter, or get incredibly clammy hands. After he’s fully comfortable, he will proudly hold your hand and be affectionate in public with you.
♡ Scout will never be the one to let go. Scout will appreciate every single second you hold his hand for. If you pull your hand off his, his stomach will slightly drop with disappointment. He could hold your hands for hours.
♡ Probably jokes saying “Aww why’d you let go, toots?” and laugh nervously to hide his disappointment.
♡ He will come to you every morning to make you wrap his right hand in his bandages. He's totally capable at doing it himself, he just wants to feel your skin against his. The soft and delicate touch of you twisting the tan fabric around his fingers, trying to make it as tight a possible. Even if you use your non-dominant hand to hold his wrist so you can wrap the bandages, since he cannot seem to sit still no matter what.
♡ Scout also loves kissing your knuckles! If you have to head somewhere and break your hands apart, he’ll say goodbye and quickly kiss your knuckles. It is usually sloppy. He may prefer to kiss your cheek or lips, but he will always kiss your hand and palms.
♡ Finally, Scout loves using his hands to cup your cheeks. He loves pushing a strand of hair behind your ear, moving his hands and caressing your cheeks. His palms are genuinely so warm and cozy, it will melt the cold off your face.
♡ If you place your hands on top of his, he'll pull them down and hold both of them in his lap. <3
The sky was an array of colors from the roof. The yellow and orange covered the sky, like a tree during autumn. The wind had calmed, although it was still slightly cooler the higher the latitude.
The cold was masked by the touch of Scout's thigh pressed against the side of yours. The both of you peering into the falling asleep sky.
With your legs hanging off the building, Scout's hand was resting atop your knee, holding onto the bone as if you were to slip off the top. He removed his grasp from your leg, and gently held your right hand. It startled you, and instinctively you intertwined your fingers with his. Your eyes connect with his beautiful sky colored eyes, and he returns a smile at you. Before you open your mouth to make a comment, a gust of wind crashes into the both of you, and you dash forwards to grab his hat. His hands panically reach your shoulders to hold you from falling.
“Woah! Hey calm down sweetheart, it ain't going anywhere,” he laughs nervously. Startled and worried that you could’ve slipped off the roof in an instant.
“I know I know, but I don’t want you to lose your favorite hat.” Scout smiles as you place the dark grey hat back onto his head, adjusting it to the way he likes it.
“My ma wouldn’t be too proud of me if ya got hurt over my hat,” he responds with a playfully giggle. You try to respond, but he presses one finger up to your lips. You lift your eyebrows jokingly as he shushes you, and he moves his finger to the strand of hair that came undone. He gently pushes the lock behind your ears. The gesture makes your cheeks heat up. Turning your head towards the mountains, Scout scoots you backward so your legs are no longer hanging off the concrete roofing, and instead you’re sitting cross-legged facing each other.
His palms find your face again, and engulf your cheeks as he gently moves his left thumb around your skin in circles.
The sun has lowered itself deeper into slumber. The only remaining light was dark orange and no more gold. You peer into it once more, as you engulf the back of his hands in the heat of your palms. You stay like this for a moment, gazing into eachothers eyes and basking in the warmth from each other's touch. His cheeks dusted with a slight pink, and he pulls your hands down to your lap and intertwined his fingers with yours.
The both of you turn towards the mountains, where the sun is completely absent. When you turn your head to meet his gaze again, he smiles at you softly, before gently pressing his lips to yours.
summary: after a rough mission with the resistance, you head to an quiet part of the U-Boat to relax. wyatt starts to panic when he can't find you in your room.
warnings: nightmares, violence, nazis, MAJOR wolfenstein spoilers (TNO / TNC) , death, cuddling, scars, comfort, fluff, reader is very sleepy :p
word Count: 1,425
You crashed on the couch, closing your eyes. It had been a few hours since the latest mission. it wasn't stressful, and unfortunately you couldn't slaughter any nazis. However, carrying supplies back to the ship was enough to exhaust anybody, especially in the cold weather.
Your aching back was pressed against the armrest of the soft gray couch, and you rested on your cheek on the backrest, practically sitting in the fetal position. You didn't feel like going to your room just yet - the bar was always loud, and this couch was always occupied by resistance members. Right now was the only time you could chill down here, as nobody is ever up this late. The silence was comforting and calm. There was nothing to worry about - nothing to hurt you. Just you in an empty room, lounging on the best piece of furniture onboard.
Shutting your eyes, your mind focuses on the ambient sound of the air conditioning. Every few moments the vents would tap, and slowly it started to pull you to sleep. Until the door near the bar opened and your nap was interrupted.
You sigh at the sound of the metal creaking.
"There you are, I was looking all over for you!" the boy in the green sweater exclaimed. He smiled softly and made his way to you.
"Hi Wyatt," turning your head towards him, "Why are you up so late? Isn't everybody asleep?" you asked, raising your eyebrows.
He sat a few inches away from you, making the couch dip a bit in his direction. He scratches his ear before facing you.
"I walked past your room and you weren't there, so I just wanted," he stutters a bit, pausing to look at the wall, "to make sure you know.. you didn’t get kidnapped or anything."
You giggled at this comment, and he stared at the bags underneath your eyes. He looked tired too, as his blinking was inconsistent and he yawned frequently.
"I just wanted a break from resting in my room. You don't need to worry at all," you smile softly. It was sweet how much he cared about everybody - he truly was a teamplayer.
"I know. This isn't where we usually sit though, so I got nervous when I couldn’t find you in your room," Wyatt's hands find his lap and he starts to bounce his left leg.
You look towards him to respond, but the moment your eyes meet his, he looks away from you.
Feeling guilty about not telling him about where you were, you muttered, "I'm sorry if I upset you.” Pausing, you smile and say, "Isn't it nice down here when you know, Grace and William aren't being obnoxious dorks?"
“When are they never?” The two of you laugh together, and he scootches closer to you. His right thigh was now pressed against yours gently, and you could feel the warmth radiating off it.
Your breath hitches. Yes you two were close friends, a little “too close”. But touching you while you two were alone? It makes your stomach fuzzy. It's different than draping his arm over your shoulder, as you tell stories and laugh with Grace and Set. He's hugged you, cuddled, and comforted you in private before. but it felt different this time. It made your mind foggy and your heart beat faster.
"The silence is a bit nice, when it is just us though," he slightly adjusts his leg, making the feeling in your stomach greater.
"That's why I started sitting down here past eleven, no one's ever down here." You giggle nervously, trying to ease the awkwardness between you two.
"Let's start hanging out here then."
“Yeah, like nobody's ever in this room during the day.”
-
As the two of you continue to chat about where to sit tomorrow, he yawns and rubs his eyes.
"Why are you up so late anyway? I thought you go to sleep at what, 9?" you question him. You slowly scoot yourself closer as you ask him, and you're leaning against him now. The sudden contact has him visually startled, as he swallows slowly and struggles to get words out of his mouth.
"I'm not tired."
"Oh yeah totally," you raise an eyebrow. "You are the number one rule follower here, and last time I checked you would leave game night early because you had to sleep."
He thinks of an excuse, blurting out, "I didn't want to listen to a drunk William for another hour."
You giggle, "Sureeee.." facing him again, something bothered him. He stares down at the tile floor, looking at the blurred reflection of himself and you.
"You know Y/N I just.." he pauses. You listen to him shifting your leg so you're touching him more.
He stares at you for a second, a slight pink dusting his cheeks. His breath hitches, and he looks at you.
"Ever since Caroline died, we never shut her bedroom door."
“What do you mean?” you asked, confused. Could he be worried about you getting killed overnight? And him having no knowledge about it until the next morning? It was an incredibly odd statement.
He sighs, pressing his palms to his forehead. “I have been having these god awful nightmares every single night. About you dying, about William and Grace never coming back home, Anya getting killed, I..” he exhales loudly and sighs.
Your heart drops, and you start to frown. You subconsciously lean into him even more, and his breath hitches as he realizes you're completely pressed against the side of him. He feels hot to touch.
"I’m so sorry Wyatt. You can always talk to me about anything. I promise. " His fingers were brushing through his hair nervously, and he started bouncing his leg even more.
"Y/N.”
“Yes?”
He looks incredibly conflicted on what words to say.
“Last week, you were with Anya breaking into the headquarters, I thought that would be the last time I would see you," he whispers the last part. He notices a strand of hair on your face, and oh how desperately he wants to tuck it behind your ear.
You open your mouth to respond, but he wraps his arms around you, enveloping you completely and burying his face in your shoulder. No words fall out of your mouth.
You hold him back,feeling the softness of his sweater. After a few seconds, you remove your right hand from his back, and brush your hand through his brown locks. You could've sworn you saw tears in his eyes.
"First Klaus then Caroline and now.. Y/N I don’t know what I’d do," he pulls his head up and looks into your eyes. Your hands find his scarred cheek, softly holding onto both sides of his face.
“Shh, it's okay. It’s all gonna be alright, Wyatt. I promise.”
The room was comfortably quiet. The air conditioner still made the tapping noise every once in a while, but your breathing made it inaudible. Exhaling slowly, and gently massaging the scar on his face, you whisper, "I'm not going anywhere, Probst” He could feel the warmth of your breath on his scarred face and his eyes light up as you call him by his first name; that was the first time he was called that directly in a long time.
Raising his hand to your cheek, he pushes that strand of hair behind your ear, letting his hand linger on your jawline.
"We’ll get through this mess together," he tried to lighten up the mood, but the creaking in his voice made him sound on the verge of tears.
You look into sky blue eyes, and his gaze softened in return, eyebrows relaxed. You wanted to pour your feelings out right then at that moment, but it's not the best time.
Instead you hug him once more, enveloping him in your arms as you nuzzle yourself in the side of him. You rest your head on the side of his chest, feeling the soft green fabric against your cheek and he runs his fingers through your hair. You hear the sound of his heart thumping, and his chest slowly moves up and down as he breathes. His breathing was like white noise, making you slowly shut your eyes.
You were safe. Safe in his arms, safe from all the terror in the world. There was nothing that could harm you. No Deathshead or Engel, nothing that could hurt you right now.
He softly presses a kiss to the top of your head, before shutting his eyes.
