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i have... more au ideas than i do braincells to actually write out the stories for them.. 🧍it is an absolute crime that i can't just magic it into existence.
a/n >> i managed to find my brother's old laptop to write this drabble that's been living in my head for a while and gnawing to be set free. quincy's suggestive lines in the backroom get me so red i might as well be a paint chip or something. so i thought what if it gets uno reversed on him slightly..? I CAN'T WRITE SMUT I TRIED ONCE AND GOT WAY TOO NERVOUS AND SHY AND AND AND. I'M JUST GOING TO STICK TO FLUFF AND ANGST. ALL MY ANGST.
You were rusty. There was no doubt about it. It was plain from the paper target that looked more like a battleship game board with an endless grid rather than someone actually attempting to hit the vitals. Glancing up at Quincy’s massive stack of targets that had a massive hole straight through the head and heart, you winced and Aoi, who came to watch out of solidarity, couldn’t help but mirror the same expression.
“At least you hit the paper..?” She offered as your grimace deepened and your hands began crumpling the paper. You needed to hide the evidence before the marksman arrived.
“That doesn’t make it sound any better,” you groaned as you leaned against the counter. It wasn’t your fault that you had been spending much of your time lately using melee weapons when running into the jumbled fray of Scaldra and Techrot. At least not fully your fault. It was partially your fault. You just didn’t want to deal with the whole reloading process…so you hadn’t touched the weaponry for maybe, kind of, quite possibly, definitely not the better part of several years. You’d have thought the skill would remain with you, just locked away for when it was next needed. Clearly that wasn’t the case. “Even His Royal Highness has better aim than me.”
“Well he was in the army,” Aoi offered again as you let out a long groan. Nothing. Nothing could console you at how absolutely terrible your aim was. Even spraying and praying would probably hit more targets than you. Well, maybe you were better than that at least, but you definitely were not going to get any guarantee kills when it mattered and that was scaring you. It was either them or you and it was looking a lot more like you by the paper that was now a tight ball within your hands.
“Aoi, whatever you do, none of this reaches the ears of Quincy,” you pointed lazily in her direction as your mind tried its damndest to process the best course of action to improve your aim. “He’ll probably have an aneurysm or stroke or heart attack or faint or-or-or maybe all four at once. His soul would probably die if he ever saw this. You’re taking this to the grave with you.”
“What’s Aoi taking to the grave with her?”
Whirling around, you turned to face the one person you didn’t want to see just this instance. At least until you buried the absolute massacre you performed on the paper target. The same paper target that you crumpled into a ball. The same paper target you had a loose grip on. The same paper target that left your hand, rebounded off his chest, and was caught in his hand. Shit.
Quincy’s brow rose as he saw your bug eyed expression staring straight at the paper ball in his hand. He raised it slightly in question, watching as your gaze never left it.
“I assume this is what Aoi is being forced to take to the grave?”
As soon as he reached for it with his other hand to open up the paper, you had swatted it out his hand and was blessed by your panic driven coordination to kick the ball away. In the grand scheme of things, your attempt wasn’t that bad. It could’ve been far worse. Looking back up at your partner, you were amazed that his brows weren’t floating in the sky with how high they had climbed in response to your reaction. His eyes went from the ball that was now several metres away from you both and then back to you.
“What…?”
“Oops…?” Your voice cracked as a bewildered chuckle left both you and the sniper. It truly wasn’t that bad. You did hit the head and where the heart would be. Mostly. Was the wind that carried the rest of the bullets astray. What you were praying for right now was that Sol would smite the paper from existence. Maybe you needed to reset 1999 right now. Your reputation, and quite possibly your relationship, was on the line. Though saying that in your head was more so only in jest. You probably would be more likely to be exiled on the spot for the crimes you committed on the paper target.
Everything was at a standstill. The only sound in the mall was the faint echo of a popping balloon in a corner, Amir’s zipping from one arcade game to another, and the digital blipping and beeping noises that those games made. Quincy’s gaze went to the paper then back to you and your tense body, coiled up and ready to dash towards the mysterious ball that was causing you to have such a great reaction. Your gaze remained predominantly on the ball of your firearm sins while keeping Quincy in your periphery. Stealing a glance here and there, your stomach churned at the shit eating grin he had on. It made you weak in most situations, but right now your own panic in not wanting to show him your absolute blasphemy to his own mastery was way too great to glean any other emotion from him.
Like the strike of a viper, Quincy turned and dashed for the ball. You let out a strangled warble as you lunged and void slung towards the paper. Sliding across the floor as you gathered it in your arms, you scrambled, like a cat with too much momentum on marble, to regain your footing. You had to hide. You had to burn the evidence. Moving to go invisible, you spared a nervous laugh as Quincy hollered at how unfair you made the game of chase.
In a panic, you didn’t know where else to go. Anywhere within the Höllvania Mall could do, but you couldn’t risk the Drone you had gifted the crew to choke on your mistakes or Amir’s curiosity from overturning every corner and making each and every dustbunny skitter away into new corners to discover your sins. Your feet after running in circles from the upstairs landing, up and down the stairs, and around the lower floor, ended up in the Backrooms. You shimmered back into view and tangibility as you looked around your Höllvanian living accommodations. The kitchenette. You could burn the paper. As soon as you set the ball down, and moved to turn on the gas, your wrists were put in a firm grip before you were backed into the table.
“Shit,” you whined in full resignation, eyes squeezing shut as Quincy came into view. How could you have forgotten he too could do the ‘spooky invisible thing’ as Amir called it. You could only go limp as he held your hands in one of his and reached for the paper with his other. There was that damned smile on his lips as he looked at the paper and back to you. “Just get it over with, Q.”
“What exactly is on that bit of paper that’s got you all twitchy, hm?” Quincy leaned down, his hand now letting go of your wrists as he now had possession of what had led to the short lived chase. You were still trying to catch your breath and with how close his face was to the side of yours, you could tell he was nearly done catching his own breath as well. He probably beelined here as you were running in circles trying to find an optimal space to hide the paper target. You squirmed slightly as he caged you in and leaned down to nibble on your ear. “Come on, don’t keep me guessing.”
Your face flushed slightly at his voice that dropped to that tone he usually used whenever you were teasing him with or without being conscious of what you were doing to him. Squirming in his hold, you gnawed on your lip as you tried to weigh the outcome of weaseling your way out of his hold to grab the paper and run or shove it down your throat or something. Deciding every possibility led to you still losing somehow (damn Aoi for being so easily bought with tammpets or Jinymon cards he happened to find during his scouting missions), you relented.
“I may have done some target practice,” you mumbled as you looked off to the side. Your eyes darted back to his face as his already shit-eating grin grew more intense. Oh fuck off, he was going to tease you to no end.
“Say that again, would you?”
“...I may have done some target practice.”
“One more time?”
“Quincy, my Sol, my light, I will use transference on you and leave you in a ditch, you insufferable toaster oven.”
“You don’t fool me. We both know you won’t. Also, you said for yourself that I make quite the sexy toaster oven.”
Damn him for knowing you. You really wouldn’t do that. And damn you for saying that he was in fact quite the attractive kitchen appliance. Double damn him for remembering.
“...Seeing that I hadn’t been using firearms in a long while… I decided to do some target practice. That’s the… the paper target. Don’t expect much from it, Q. It’s not that terrible…” you trailed off again as his brow raised and his body shook slightly as he let out a quiet chuckle. “Don’t laugh at me!”
“Alright, alright. No judgment. Cross my heart,” with the paper still in his hand, he pointed at his chest and drew an x over it before moving to open the paper. Your hands darted to his wrists to hold him still.
“Really. It has been a really long time since I last used any firearm, Q.”
Quincy laughed and kissed your forehead.
“No judgement, remember? I'm sure you smashed it."
Right. It wasn’t that bad. You could’ve missed every single shot. Maybe you did dump nearly half a mag outside the bounds of the paper because you forgot about recoil. But it wasn’t that bad.
Quincy flattened out the paper behind you and winced while looking away, sharply sucking in air as he closed his eyes. It was that bad. End it all. Reset 1999. Fuck the nuclear bomb. Fuck playing out the whole loop. Fuck it all. You had to wipe this from his memory. Maybe ban yourself from using any form of melee weaponry until you are proficient with firearms. You wanted to crawl into a hole and die.
“Oh… oh, Babes,” he grimaced as he tried his best to smooth out all the creases that had formed from your determination to scrunch it down to as close to nothingness as you could. Quincy’s eyes peeled open just a tad to look at the paper before closing and looking away again. A smile was quivering at his lips as he tried not to laugh.
“Q, please, I’m already nine bajillion metres underground in embarrassment. I don’t need you to make me want to blow myself up as well,” you whined as you began to melt against the table and sink down to the floor. He caught you before your head hit the edge of the table and pulled you to sit up on the table.
“Babe,” he barely got the word out as he coughed over a laugh and tried to keep his voice steady. The marksman bit the inside of his lip as he looked at anywhere but the paper. But like it were a magnet, his eyes trailed back to the target and he failed to suppress the laugh that was rearing to be free when he first laid his eyes on the paper target. Covering another spurt of laughter with a cough, he began to choke on his own spit and let himself tumble through the throes of laughter. He wasn’t laughing to mock you, though in your embarrassment you could only feel your face burn and your desire to dissolve into mist. He cleared his throat and looked straight at you, the classic Quincy-K twinkle in his eyes.
“Quincy,” you weakly responded as you felt your soul beginning to leave your body.
“Not too shabby, that. Seen much worse, honestly. We can sort your aim out, though. Just you n’ me. Get a few more shots on target.”
“I’m hopeless,” you groaned as you buried your head in your hands.
“Nah, your chatting shit. You’ve got me, haven’t you?”
You peeked through your fingers at his soft expression, his eyes lovingly scanning your obscured features as he gave you a genuine smile. For a guy who loved to razz on others and all prickly, he almost seemed to be so gentle, safe, and vulnerable with you. It was like he took that suit of shards and daggers off to let you be near to him. He was defenseless around you, exposed his heart to you and entrusted you to keep it safe. It scared you initially just as much as it scared him that the both of you had torn down each others’ walls so quickly and so effortlessly. Much of your awkward dancing around unspoken feelings consisted of conversations and actions that were trying to patch up the walls and reinforce or double up on the defences to keep each other from being honest with each other.
“Right,” you nodded as you pulled your hands away from your face. Through it all, the both of you found that there was no use trying to rebuild the walls the both of you so easily tore down as you sought his love and he sought yours.
“We can ease you back into it. Start off with something that'll get you used to the feel of it again before moving on. No point diving in at the deep end. We'll start small—with a pistol. I've got an MK23 you can have a go with, then we can work our way up from there if you're comfortable,” he watched you relax and gave a small peck to your cheek. “Get you shooting blanks to get used to the recoil and then build up to the live rounds.”
“That was you, yesterday,” you muttered as you wiggled off the desk and ducked under his arm, leaving him speechless. It took a few seconds for your mind to catch up to what you had just said as well and when it did you stopped and turned to look at the sniper who was now gripping the table with an intensity that also showed his restraint. He looked at you and exhaled heavily. You could tell he was blushing as you yourself felt as hot as a kettle. Quincy approached and wagged his finger at you before grabbing you at the hip and playfully biting at your nose.
“You’re trouble, you,” he growled, eyes narrowing as his hands snaked under your clothes. His cool hands touching your warm skin and causing you to shiver ever so slightly. “We’ll sort you out. Going to—”
“FUTURE!”
Quincy was at your neck, hands sliding up your side, one moment and flung against the armchair to the right of you the next as you turned to address Amir. They boy didn’t seem to be aware of the tension that hung thick just prior to his interruption and even if he did, he failed to mention it or indicate that he knew what was going on. You could hear Quincy quietly groan and call Amir a professional cockblock under his breath as you nodded and entertained the young protoframe’s ideas on the game he was developing. At Amir’s urging and invitation, you moved to leave your living quarters, following him out, but you stalled at the door. With confident strides, you turned back to come up to your lover as he remained sprawled on the armchair you had pushed him to. His arm was dramatically draped over his face as you leaned down and pressed your lips into his. He drew his arm away from his face and held you by the back of your neck, stroking the flesh behind your ear. Before either of you got carried away, you pulled away, biting onto his lower lip.
“I may be trouble, but you absolutely love it, Quincy-K.”
With that, you left him there, absolutely floored. He only moved a few minutes after you had left and let out a loud and long groan that filled the living quarters that had every single trace of you in it. The same space he had come to share with you now. The same space he felt safe and at home in. The very same space that he now never wanted to leave. A silly smile teased its way onto his face as he licked his lip, the kiss and bite you had left still leaving it tingling. He laughed quietly to himself and shook his head. He felt like a schoolboy being told by his crush that they liked him. All warm and bubbly.
omg ur quincy x reader fic was SOOOOO GOOD I actually love u so much. AND UR ART IS SO PEAK TOO UR AMAZING 🥹 sorry if this sounds greedy 😔 but are there any plans for more Quincy x reader fics??? or just warframe fics in general? LOVE U ❤️❤️❤️
thank you so much!?!? i do plan on writing more for quincy and just warframe in general so do expect some more! i might do focus on more x reader or also develop my x oc work that's been sitting in my docs for a good while. who knows, but there will definitely be more warframe writing!
and don't worry about sounding greedy about quincy, i need more of him too that i might go feral.
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who's got your 6? || quincy isaacs x reader drabble
tw/cw: thoughts/discussion of death, comfort, fluff
Your heart was pounding out your chest as you shot up from your bed. Cold sweat ran down your back like condensation on a cool glass and your breathing was as if you had sprinted a marathon. The faint light of your nightstand glowed softly among the other little lights within your room. Looking up at the time, your focus jittered as your nerves were still frazzled.
2 something AM. You couldn't be asked to read the rest of the numbers.
Unable to settle back in, you got up from the bed, nearly stumbling to the floor. You muttered out a curse as you gripped the nightstand to keep you steady. Picking up a random hoodie, you pulled it over yourself and walked towards the stairs. If it were any other situation, you would've been comforted by the scent of your lover, but everything was secondary to what you were feeling currently.
Shuffling down the stairs to your small kitchenette, you could feel your heart finally beginning to slow down. Your brows furrowed in frustration as you saw your hand tremble reaching for the glass and loudly setting it down on the countertop with a rattle. Any attempt at pouring water would probably result in a mess which resulted in a frustrated slam onto the table as you leaned your weight into it.
There was no way you were this shaken by your nightmare. Vision? Definitely not a dream. It felt so real, but your mind as much as it tried to grasp what had happened only saw it fall through your fingers like sand. You couldn't remember anymore what it was about. Just that it scared the living shit out of you. Just that it had you losing every single person you loved because you couldn't protect them. You were too slow. You were too weak. You were too. Fucking. Useless. Yeah. You couldn't remember what it was about, though it would be more truthful if you said you didn't wish to remember.
Your mind was swimming in its worry that you didn't hear your door open. You definitely didn't hear Quincy approach. At least until the last second where the hairs on the back of your neck bristled and you swung, materialising your gun into your hand and stopping it with Quincy in the line of fire.
"Whoa there," Quincy quickly knocked your firearm to the side, thankful for your trigger discipline. "What's got you all worked up so early?"
His eyes softly studied your expression as he tucked a strand of hair out of your eyes. It had been bothering you, but you guess you were just that frazzled. You couldn't trust your voice at this moment so you just motioned to the water spout and the cup, hoping he got the message.
"Babes," he reached for the glass and poured some water, holding it for you as his hand reached to gently hold your face. "Was wrong? Never seen you this shook."
Your eyes went to his own before flickering away. Your breathing was settled, but was starting to climb up in your chest again just like water quickly rising.
"Babe," he gripped your face gently, but firmly directing your attention to him. "Talk to me. Was going on? You're proper rattled."
"Just some bad dr—," you tried to wave him off, but he tsked and crowded your vision.
"Be straight with me."
Silence lingered like a heavy blanket over the two of you and that's how you stayed for a moment. The quiet hum of the foundry in the corner, the faint buzz of the stereo, and the steady breathing of you both among other things had your mind trying its best to settle down. The fear was gripping you still though. Leaning into his touch, you opened your mouth and stopped when a croak left you. Gods, you were never this inarticulate. Quincy's eyes only left you as he set down the glass that you definitely weren't in the mindset to drink at the moment. You needed to calm down first.
"I... can't be the only one who's way too scared to even... even. Just," a ragged breath left your body and Quincy's heart shattered at how small you looked before him. He knew how heavy the weight was as he had once carried it, but here you were with the weight of worlds on your shoulders. You were bound to crack. Anyone would've. But you had soldiered on better than most of his brothers in arms when he had served for Sol knows how long and how far and how— just how. With the way you were gripping onto his lapel like a lifeline, he wondered if you were only soldiering on because there was nothing and no one else in the world that gave you meaning or worth.
"Just tell me I'm doing any of this right," a faint, broken voice whispered into the silence. A voice you barely recognised as yours. "I don't know what I'm doing half the time if it's doing any good or right or just.. anything."
Quincy easily lifted you up to set you on the counter and stood in front of you. He knew of the nights where Amir would come barging in, shaken from his nightmares of the blood on his hands. As much as the little squirt ticked him off sometimes, he knew how it was the first time he brought a man to their early grave with a bullet he fired. What more, this kid was just some normie. All fascinated with technology and whatever junk he seemed to pull in from every excursion forced to steel his heart and face the horrors of what he had become, no thanks to Entrati. For a boy who only knew peace to killing Scaldra on the daily? Nightmares were a given.
But you? You always seemed to sleep like a rock, but stirring at the sound of something that was out of the ordinary. Or you stayed up, curled up at the window, nursing a coffee until it became cold and staining a ring within the inner walls of the cup, fire at the shooting range with a bow so as not to wake anyone, or just doing something. You were never this shaken up. You were always so put together. Quincy never expected you to be that way. Each person had their own breakpoints and he had his moment with you, baring his heart in a way that left him scared of losing you or being hurt.
Quincy took a deep breath and leaned against the counter, caging you in, but you never felt trapped with him. He watched as you stuttered with unspoken words, dying before they left your lips.
"Duviri messed me up more than you think.. or I thought really. Stuck in an eternal loop of killing and dying and killing and dying and..." You let out a tired laugh, pushing the heels of your palms into your eyes as you slowly leaned forward and rested your head on his shoulder. "Sometimes I still feel like I'm still there. So my mind is just ready to close my eyes and breathe my last."
Your let out a heavy breath that shook your body like a leaf in the wind. Tears probably would have pooled in your eyes and stained his lapel, but your body was too exhausted for it. Mind too spent trying to reason with itself.
"You know... As much as you say they piss you off, I'm glad you have the others to have your back. Even Amir," you felt Quincy scoff quietly to which you smiled slightly and weakly punched him in the chest. "I know you still care for that little squirt, Q. "
The smile faded from your lips as you thought to your nightmare the blood on your hands, the vile iron on your tongue, and the deafening silence of being alone through it all. "I guess I wished I had that while I was in Duviri. Well. I guess I kinda did with Teshin, but the bastard's halfway in the grave and probably wanted to take me with him with how stupid I was. He was the closest I had to family I guess. Though that's a generous title to give to him."
His hands moved to gently rub your thighs, quiet, comforting, just existing in the space with you. Your eyes looked down at one of his hands and reached to hold it. Feeling you play with his hand, he let each digit remain as you had left it. He didn't think he'd be able to feel the warmth of another in this hellhole, but Sol. You were the warmest of all he had known. So bright, so warm. A burning fire of passion and drive and hope. Maybe it was blasphemy, but you burned brighter than Sol and he was left blinded by you. He didn't mind that though. You were his Sol, but with you burning so low like a candle about to flicker out, he longed to be your anchor. Something to hold your head up. Someone to lean on like you were now. Somewhere for you to seek out as sanctuary.
"It's so damn lonely starting out where I had and ending up where I am now. Just dragged from one thing to another, floating in the Void and wherever between like a tin can far above everything yet still so trapped within it all," you absentmindedly ran a fingernail through a scratch on his hand, not noticing how he stiffened slightly. Your voice lowered noticeably as you seemed to make yourself smaller. "I guess I'm jealous of all of you. You guys have someone at your back. Someones even—"
"What am I, invisible?" Quincy snorted, leaning back to lift your chin and look at you. Your eyes held this impossible to explain emotion, one that you yourself didn't know how or what you were exactly expressing. Your mouth opened and closed like a goldfish trying to find words to say before you ultimately shook your head and brought your arms around his neck to hug him.
"I'm scared, Q," you whispered in a way that sounded like you were shattered in a million pieces on the floor, ready to be swept up and tossed away like broken glass. "I'm scared to lose everything. I'm scared to lose all of you. I'm terrified to lose you. I don't have it all together. Being some kind of universe saviour means shit if I can't keep it together. I—"
You felt his hand slowly rub up and down your back as you held onto him tighter. Scared that if you let go, you would wake up and see it all disappear like a dream.
"Babe, if everyone had it all together, the world wouldn't be this shit. I know you've got to go off and save the world, but for what it's worth, know that I'm always here," Quincy pressed his lips onto your cheek and your heart ached. In a good way. "Just make sure you find your way back to me, yeah? I don't care when. Just come over. There'll always be a you-shaped place by my side and my bed. Fair?"
You nodded and a smile crept back to his lips as he leaned in and kissed you softly. It was gentle, as if he was afraid of breaking you, but the warmth that burned in your chest as you held him close made you feel safe. Pulling away, you fidgeted with his hand and bit your lip as you fought for the right words.
"Is it okay?" He tilted his head slightly in confusion, brow raised in question. "Is it okay for me to be this selfish?"
"Pshhh," he laughed and buried his head in your neck to nibble, "Be as selfish as you want with me. I'm all yours. I've already claimed you like a dog pissin' up a lamppost."
You laughed and shoved at him, shaking your head at how disgusting his analogy was. But it brightened your mood. He smiled softly at you and kissed you again. "There you are. Love it when you're smiling for me."
Nuzzling into him, you exhaled your worry away. Those hard days were definitely going to arrive again. It was going to continue to haunt you, but you now had someone there to be your bastion. You had forgotten it. Curse you for forgetting it. But you had him now. Exhaustion washed over you as he held you there.
"Come on, let's call it, yeah?" You only nodded into him as you began to drift asleep. The next point at which your body shifted was when he lay you down on the bed and pulled you close to him. What you didn't know as you were lost to sleep was that he held you dearly and whispered words he knew you couldn't hear, but ones he knew he had to say.
"I've got your six, babes. Don't you worry about a thing."
he's so fucking cute. i might swap destinations to quincy bc fuck- but arthur.... but quincy........... but AR— QUI— AAAAAAA i want them both. i need them both. OTL
oberon sketch (will render later, just drew it while waiting for my oberon prime (that my friend threw at me for finishing the new war) to finish cooking) & a titania/oberon sketch (came to mind bc midsummer night's dream is one of my favourite plays so i had to make the two together even if they may not be in warframe lore)
also i like how oberon has a slight stomach. very. cute.
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OMG I MET HIM I SEE MY HUSBAND. OML. also nobody told me i was going to get jumpscared and screaming and terrified from certain quests having a more scary theme lol. it may not be acary to everyone or most ppl, but i'm not good with scary things lol
the lore is lore-ing. i am greatly enjoying it so far
also have a quick doodle of my drifter/operator like a bit of a while after new war. drifter = white hair, operator = dark grey hair
Eyes darting up towards the door, you could see Arthur just standing there, his eyes scanning the room, searching. Upon settling on you, his body seemed to relax ever so slightly as he plodded in, the door closing behind him. Your brow raised inquisitively. He usually had something to say. A quippy line, a how-do-you-do, a sexually charged rumble that never seemed to fail at living rent free in your head. He was quiet.
Worry was now settling in as he approached, rounding the table and coming to stand next to the couch where you were sprawled out. The soft smile that was on your lips when he came in that changed into an awkward one now faded completely as your brows gathered in concern.
"Arth-," you're startled as he dove into you. His head buried into your neck as his arms snaked in between your body and the cushions. Surprised, you lay there frozen as he inhaled deeply. The exhale that left him caused his body to melt into yours as your hands found their place around him, one hand stroking his hair as he rumbled into your nape. If he didn't adamantly argue that he wasn't, you would've told him he was very much like a cat. "Everything ok?"
A low rumble with the feeling of a 'yes' vibrated against the crook of your neck as he remained there in your hold. As soon as you were about to hug him tighter or settle in for a nap, Arthur moved, rising to prop himself up with his arms. His eyes lingered on your eyes before lowering down to your lips. Leaning down, he pressed his lips softly into yours as his forearm moved to gently cup your head and stroke your hair with his hand. Your lips moved tenderly against his as you felt his legs shift over to the ground. Pushing himself up, Arthur smiled as he stood to his full height and stretched. Your eyes still remained on your lover, concern a prevalent emotion as you noticed that he seemed to be quite energised now.
STILL without a word, Arthur moved to leave and now you were a little peeved. Sitting up, you chucked the throw pillow at him, expression now overtaken by annoyance, nailing him in the back of the head.
"Excuse me?!" he picked up the pillow and held it like a shield as if it would protect him from your slight anger. Backing slowly away towards the door, Arthur looked back every so often to check that he wasn't running into anything. You were tempted to run up to him and grab him, bite him, growl at him, anything.
Right at the threshold of your room, he finally spoke. Who knew some words were enough to make your frustrations disappear like salt in water
"I love you," the gravely timbre of his voice soothing you like honey on your tongue. He gave a smile and a slight raise of his brows like a peace offering. You couldn't help but smile back as he set the pillow down on the table by your door.
"I love you too you bastard," you shook your head as you huffed in amusement as you collapsed back into the couch. "But don't you dare come in again all silent in the future. I will eat you alive."
You heard the door close before opening again and your ears strained to listen.
"I wouldn't mind if you bit into me, savouring me like a tasty morsel. I'd wear it like a badge if I could. Unlike you, always covering up all my marks," you shot up from the couch like a bullet face flushed as you turned to the door where Arthur stood, a cheeky grin on his face. "I expect some teeth tonight, love."
With your face burning and your jaw hanging so low that it probably dug through the earth and went to the core of the planet, you were stunned beyond belief as your lover chuckled and left.
but is it fair || arthur nightingale x reader drabble
small oneshot maybe to include in the full fic that i'm in the process of writing. this was actually meant for r6 doc, but i felt it fit arthur a bit more as i reread it. also first x reader i'm writing lol.
{you're in love,} a voice brought him out of his thoughts. turning to face the speaker, arthur rubbed the back of his neck as he stopped spinning his sword
"i...may be," he chuckled, turning his attention back to you, watching as you shoved past amir to chase after quincy. after grappling with the sniper, you ultimately triumphed and made some quick gestures, rude ones to the offending protoframe, on the device before stuffing it back into your pocket. some words were exchanged before you turned to see him looking at your direction. he tensed at your sudden gaze. hand ceasing to fidget with his sword that he was absentmindedly picking away at the pommel of.
{you're absolutely smitten,} eleanor huffed in amusement. {would it kill either of you to be honest?}
"i.." his voice faltered as he let the words die in his mouth. they were simple words to make sounds for and to let out, but it was all too heavy for him to just say. he couldn't do it to you. he shouldn't.
"that wouldn't be right," his face strained at making a smile that reflected how strained his heart felt in saying those words regarding his... fuck. he let his head hang and began to study the cracks in the floor. he didn't know what to call you. he knew, but he didn't. his heart ached to call you his, but you weren't. he couldn't just call you a comrade in arms, that was too far removed. he was painfully in love and he knew it. hell at this point everyone knew it but just refused to say anything about it. maybe even you knew and was cruelly letting him suffer in his inability to confess. shifting his gaze towards his feet, he shuffled them against the tiled ground and sighed. "wouldn't be right to them."
eleanor only looked at him before exhaling heavily and shaking her head. {one of these days they'll be out of your grasp and you'll have to live with the thought that you couldn't at least attempt trying to tell them.}
"i...know," arthur nodded as he looked back up at you who was now trying to wrestle with quincy, for what reason he didn't know, but it was a losing battle just like his fight against his heart in saying he didn't love you. a whisper barely escaped his lips as he echoed his own words that stabbed him like daggers, "i know."
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random SFW arthur hcs while i fight for my life trying not to be bad at the game and still thirsting over this man... or trying not to be bad at the game WHILE thirsting over him...and roathe... and velimir..... and admiring at how fucking cool all the frames look...
will definitely get phantom pains from his eye
won't say much about it and would probably try not to interact much with others. sometimes the pain will just make it feel more like a migraine than a phantom pain. doesn't want to be and definitely won't admit that he kind of enjoys being cared a lot for when in this state.
has immense respect for those who are skilled with the blade
sure it has to do with the fact that he is a swordsman, but he still greatly admired those who can wield a sword and wield it well as the sword is a very intimate weapon. he'd probably want to compare notes or at least observe from afar.
probably swears whenever he gets hurt/grazed/hit, but will often refuse to admit that he is indeed hurt and requires medical attention
though a small amount of it has to do with his pride, most of it is due to his desire to not make anyone worry. he'll probably be the type that's bleeding out and still fight whoever's trying to patch him up because someone else has got a paper cut.
would growl in immense frustration
if extremely frustrated from being upset over something or someone, he may growl/yell and grumble as he tries not to rip his hair out.
has definitely dyed his grey hairs once but then decided it was too much work and lived with it.
came out of his mild irritation over getting grey hairs so soon, but he soon realised the process of dyeing it was more frustrating. he hasn't failed to notice the few strands of grey mixing in with his longer black hair. he's gotten over amir and quincy calling him old man or gramps even though velimir is the oldest one of them all.
likes to nurse his drink and just watch the ice melt half the time
while he will sometimes have a drink here and there or even get drunk under the table by some of the others, he probably enjoys just sitting with the drink. sure, a cold one may be nice, but spending some time to quiet his mind and slow down and take a pause from it all and just watch ice melt kind of resets his mind and lets him keep himself from going crazy.
would play with his s/o's hands
just watching their fingers intertwined in his, playing with it absentmindedly, or just seeking out his partner's hand to just hold onto (to make sure that they're still there and not a dream that he'll wake up from and see the clock ticking towards death and they were never there to begin with)
as rough and tough as he is, he's definitely a big puppy
to the point that he would and could lick his partner from head to toe. ...probably some nsfw hc from this one later
he is genuinely not fair. why the hell does he look so good. i'm crying and sobbing and weeping. grrr
ok thirsting aside, the story seems really neat. but i've also just been giga obsessed with staring at the environment, the internal workings of the ships and buildings, the fricking ground that looks like baked beans in cetus, and stuff like that. really fascinating.
fortuna was fun, but i think overall i really enjoy how big the world feels in the open world maps.
another concept i enjoy is actually the traders lol. i'm not going to get into that just yet since i'm starting out, but it scratches my brain just right when things are done as realistically as possible. so when i heard there's actual travel time that the traders have before they pop up at a different relays, it genuinely made me giddy LMAO
i chuck this question out into the void (pun not intended), but if i were to make a discord server or just chuck random thoughts in posts here as i traverse the world of warframe, would it be interesting or nah?
anyways back to being the bumbling newbie that i am.
