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certaimromance · 4 months ago

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𝜗𝜚 You Says.

Post prison Reid x Reporter!reader

Read part one here!

Summary: After a rough night and some misunderstandings, Spencer needs to do everything he can to make things right with you and get his relationship back on track. The problem is, things aren't so easy for you, and he's willing to do anything you ask, even take care of you when no one else will.

Words: 3,1k.

Warnings & Tags: mentions of crime and trauma. fem!reader. angst+comfort. reader gets sick (nothing serious, just a normal cold). second chance yep. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: Ok, I didn't think of doing a second part before, but reading my own work made me so sad😭 the cat deserves happy parents (we are the cat) but I warn you that I do not believe in magic apologies.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

I. I Love You, I’m Sorry.

Spencer had been losing his mind since the last time he saw you in person, and it was all his fault. From the moment the door to his apartment closed behind you and the oven beeped, he began to feel the broken pieces of his heart that you had once held together unravel and shatter even more. He hated himself for letting his insecurities get in the way of the one good thing he had managed to have over the past few years, and for pushing you away when you didn't want to. You had been his exception among all the bad things that had happened in his life for as long as he could remember, the only one that didn't seem to want to be temporary and left him when he least expected it. And he himself had forced you out of his life, even when you didn't want to, begging him with tear-filled eyes for a little remorse that he didn't give you.

Just a few hours after the incident, he tried to go to work as if nothing had happened to clean up the mess the leak had made and put the killer in jail. He brought Penelope the promised cookies and your computer for her to examine because it felt right at the time. Part of him needed her to find real proof of your betrayal so he could stop feeling bad about making you cry and saying such ugly things to you.

Then he found out that you were telling the truth and that your computer contained nothing but photos of the two of you, all the articles he had ever written or been mentioned in your searches, and a few writings in which you poured out all your love for him in the cheesiest and most poetic way possible. You loved him, you really did, and there was no evidence to the contrary, because even Garcia could later assure him that the information had come anonymously and had been bought for five hundred dollars. But it was too late, because he had given you a conviction without even knowing it.

That's when he started to fixate on making amends for what he'd done. Every time you left work, bouquets of your favorite flowers with notes asking for forgiveness and wishing you a good night began to appear in your car. He also made a point of stopping by to talk to you and repeat how sorry he was. You knew this would happen when he realized his mistake. You had told him before you left, and that's why you refused to see him. It was good that the security guards at your workplace didn't let him in, even with his FBI credentials. The tricky part was your building because the doorman already knew him and let him in normally thanks to the excuses Spencer made up, even though you said a thousand times that he shouldn't have.

And that was happening again, for the fifth or sixth time in the last few days.

“Please, just let me talk to you and tell you how sorry I am. Listen to me for a moment.” You could hear Reid's voice from the other side of the door.

You didn't say anything. You just sat with your back against the door and one hand on your heart, as if you were trying to hold it. It didn't even cross your mind that he was in the same situation.

“Just a few minutes, please."

Once more, you remained silent.

Silence was the worst answer someone could give. You knew it, and it hurt to have to do it with him. But you had no choice because you knew that by looking into his eyes for just a few seconds, all the bad things would dissipate and maybe you would even forgive him without thinking just because of the love you had for him. You didn't like being this vulnerable and having so many feelings for someone who didn't trust you.

Lately, you've been spending every waking moment wondering what you could have done to make him believe that you were really capable of betraying him in such a cruel and selfish way. You were the one who woke up in the middle of the night to try to comfort him every time he had a nightmare or couldn't sleep. You drove to his apartment no matter what time it was to make sure he was okay. You lost your breath repeating that he was safe with you. You drank many cups of coffee the next day so you wouldn't fall asleep on the job every time the situation repeated itself. That's why you started sleeping in his apartment, wrapped in his arms because he said it made him happy to wake up and see you. And even with all that, Spencer was able to believe that you didn't love him.

You were running your hands through your hair and sighing, trying to block out all the thoughts running through your head, when you heard his phone ring. You could tell it was important by the way he spoke and changed his tone of voice, so you got up from the floor at the same time he did to put your ear to the door.

“I really have to go now, but could you open up a little bit so I can take a quick look at you?” He asked in a pleading tone after hanging up the call. “Please, I know you can hear me. I can see the shadow of your feet under the door.”

You really thought he didn't know you were there, feeling like a fool for listening to every word he said.

“If you want to see me, turn on the TV.” Your voice finally reached Spencer, and it gave him a glimmer of hope. It was the first time you had spoken to him since that night, and even though there was a door between the two of you, you were talking to him.

“It's not enough.”

“And it's not my problem.”

That was more hurtful than your silence.

“I know, it's mine.” He replied after a couple of seconds, trying to process everything. “And I will do everything I can to fix it...I have to go now, but take care of yourself. The nights have been getting colder lately, so wrap up warm.”

You knew it was a bit silly to think of that now, but his attention to detail was impressive. Since you did the evening news, you used to get off work very late, and the change from air conditioning to the city cold was quite a lot. Spencer had cited scientific studies to you many times to make you aware and know what kind of clothing materials to use to avoid a cold. You missed that a lot.

If he had the same attitude as the night of the conflict, it would be easier. You could hate him and stop loving him so strongly.

“I love you, William misses you and so do I.”

You frowned because you didn't know anyone by that name.

“William?”

“Our cat.” He answered simply. “When we talked about how we would name him, you said that a lot of people name their pets after their favorite characters. You love the movie ‘Notting Hill’ and whenever we watch it, you always say you like Hugh Grant's character named William. It also means strong-willed warrior. I just thought you would like it.”

You didn't say anything at the time because you had to cover your hand with your mouth to keep from doing so, but you liked it and you liked it too much. Once again, he focused on the details.

“You can change it if you want because I don't know if he likes it, but what I do know is that he misses you. He lies on your blanket and starts meowing, and he also looks at the door. I certainly think that every time I come home he expects it to be you.” He kept talking as he received no response from you. “It sounds like I'm talking about myself. And it's true because it happens to me the same way.”

When he paused, a tear escaped and fell down your cheek. It wasn't fair for him to say those things now.

“If you want to see him and me not being there, you can send me a message...but I'd really like to be.” He paused again, as if searching for the perfect words.

What did it cost him to have searched for the perfect words the night he distrusted you?

“I must go, I love you.”

The last thing you heard before he left was Spencer's footsteps heading towards the elevator.

II. I Miss You, I’m Sorry.

Just two weeks later, you realized that maybe you should have listened to Spencer when he said the nights were getting too cold. If you had, now you probably wouldn't be lying on your bed with an unbearable flu and no one there to bring you soup or a cold washcloth for your forehead because your mother was taking too long to get to city.

When you were younger, you thought it was a great idea to get as far away from your hometown as possible. Now, however, you realize that you need a familiar face to take care of you because you can't do it alone all the time.

You felt a sense of relief when you heard the door to your apartment open.

“Mom? I'm really hungry and the soup is all gone.” You spoke in a tired tone as you heard footsteps approaching. But at that moment, you watched as the cat you shared with Reid jumped onto the bed and started purring at you.

You thought you were hallucinating from the fever until you saw Spencer walking into your room with a couple of bags.

“I know you were expecting your mother, but we brought you soup and medicine.” He said, sitting up in bed to look closely at you and put a hand on your forehead. “You're burning up.”

“What are you doing here?” You asked, trying to pull away from his touch.

“Your mother called me because she couldn't find a flight today and was very worried. She asked me to take care of you.”

Of course she did, because she adored him and didn't know that things were bad between you two.

“I don't need you to take care of me.” You barely settled into bed and petted the cat. “Go to work, make sure no one leaks information.”

Oh, that was a low blow for him.

“I asked for a few days off because you have a high fever and someone needs to take care of you.”

“You don't have to...”

“I want to.” He said, interrupting you and putting a cold cloth on your forehead.

“Just because you're looking out for me doesn't mean I'm going to forget everything and forgive you.” You clarified right away, trying not to lose focus because of the relief you felt thanks to the cold compress.

“I know, and I don't expect you to. Just let me take care of you now, forget you hate me until you get better. I won't take advantage of this, I swear.” He looked at you with a serious gaze, as if he were swearing an oath. “Please.”

God, not puppy dog eyes now.

You used to love it when he looked at you with those sparkling eyes. Now, though, you felt manipulated by it.

“Fine, give me the soup.” You finally agreed, knowing you didn't have much of a choice. “Just a warning, please don't answer any calls near me. I can listen in and use the information to hire a nurse.”

He ignored the comment and didn't bring it up to make you uncomfortable. He sat on the edge of the bed, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. His touch was light, and his eyes searched yours as he spoke.

“Is there anything else besides soup I can bring you? More tissues, or maybe some medicine?” He asked in a soft, soothing voice.

You shook your head, still a bit dazed by the situation and your stomach rumbling. You watched as Spencer disappeared into the kitchen, and you could hear his footsteps echoing throughout the house, followed by the clatter of pots and pans and the sound of the stove being turned on. You could only lie back on your bed, feeling a wave of tiredness wash over you.

A few minutes later, he came back with a bowl of chicken noodle soup and sat down next to you on the bed, being careful not to spill anything.

“Are you planning to feed me soup?” You asked, with a hint of irony in your voice, as you watched me hold the spoon and watch you.

“If you wish, I'll be happy to.” He replied simply and brought the spoon gently to your mouth.

“I'm not a baby.”

Especially not his baby.

“You hate me, I know. But I really want to take care of you, and I won't leave until at least your mother arrives.” He paused for a second, as if to catch his breath. “If you don't want me around, that's okay, I'll just sit in the corner of the room or in the living room in silence. It hurts, but I'll take whatever you want.”

You remained silent for several seconds, dedicating yourself to stroking the cat to avoid Spencer's gaze.

“I don't hate you.” Was the only thing you could say at the time.

Something inside you was expecting a more exaggerated reaction for letting your guard down a bit, or maybe you were just too feverish. The thing was, he had only given you a small, almost non-existent smile.

“I know.” He finally spoke and gently adjusted the cold compress on your forehead. “And that's why I hate myself.”

At that moment, while you were trying to make sense of how things had changed so much in just a week, he was watching you.

Spencer was waiting for you to explode, to tell him how sorry you were for getting involved with him and his complicated world, that it was all one big mistake that you would regret forever. He was expecting disaster, pain, tears, and a lot of chaos.

But you didn't give him any of that.

Just a sweet nothing.

He could tell at that moment that even though you were in a feverish state and had many reasons to be cruel, you would not be. He realized that you would never yell at him or do anything to hurt him, that the most painful thing you could give him was your silence. And it was then that he confirmed that you loved him the way he thought he did not deserve to be loved: honestly and genuinely.

“Why?” You whispered after a few minutes of silence. “Why are you with me if you don't trust me?”

“I trust you.” He looked you straight in the eye as he spoke, trying to show that he was being completely sincere. “I just don't trust myself.”

You frowned and let out a groan from the discomfort in your forehead. You weren't sure if you were hallucinating because of the cold or if Spencer was really shivering.

“I don't think I'm good enough for you, or deserve you, or that you love me because you want to.” He finally admitted, his voice slightly shaky. He seemed to be in a worse state than you. “It's silly because you've never given me a reason to distrust you.”

“I know you thought I was going to leave. But I didn't want to leave until you asked me to.” You were close to crying, so you pretended to sneeze to hide your watery eyes. You didn't want to show how vulnerable you were. “It was easier to distrust me and blame me like I was just another bad person you catch.”

“Yes, but...” He replied, trying to answer your question.

“Don't talk. It's my turn.”

He nodded after a few seconds, watching you with concern. “Just be careful, you're still sick.”

You already knew how sick you were and how deplorable you probably looked, but you wanted to say it all and stop feeling a lump in your throat.

“You say you trust me, but you really don't, and I've been trying to understand you for almost a year, Spencer. It's been eleven months of trying not to invade your space, avoiding topics that make you tense or your eyes glaze over.” You had to stop to catch your breath and drink some water with his help. “And you think I don't understand you or really know you, but I do. I know how all your dishes are arranged, I know how you like to fold clothes and eat toast, I know that chess reminds you of someone because your eyes get watery every time we see a board, I know about the book signed by Maeve that you hide in your closet and about which you tense up every time I'm near, I know about your nightmares about prison that you don't like to talk about, and about your mother's favorite colors that change every day. I know so much about you, and yet you think I know nothing.”

Once more, there was a long, quiet pause.

“I'm so sorry.” He held your hands as he repeated the same thing, this time with a truly sincere tone. The whole room was still tense as his knees touched the floor, and the apology he gave you seemed like a plea. “I'm really sorry. I know you don't want apologies, you want trust, and I'm going to show you that.”

You didn't say anything as he sat down next to you on the bed.

“I trust you, that's why I always tell you about my cases. And I will tell you about all my past, if you want, because for me you are my present and my future...of course, only if you still want to.”

The eyes of both of you were fixed on the cat you shared, who was purring and lying very comfortably in the middle of the bed. It was nice to know that at least one of the three of you was happy.

“Tell me.”

And just as you asked, he told you everything because he wanted to show you that he trusted you.

This time he really trusted.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #matthew gray gubler

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marchsfreakshow · 4 months ago

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Familiarities Upon Death [James Patrick March]

Angst

James' relationship with you faded to one resemblancing his relationship with The Countess. He had to indulge in his childish need for you. No matter your reaction. No matter what it took.

James may be a simp but he also likes his murder. You can all blame 'I Love You Like An Alcoholic' for this. Also, possibly my longest fic ever! Go me.

Warnings: dead dove!! descriptions of cuts, James being gross<3

No one's perspective

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

If you had put The Countess and you in a room together, you likely ended up discussing James. She did not love the ghost. She never did. You always did. You forever had his undead heart.

Yet the relationship wavered. It wavered all too similarly. James could feel his heart break again. He couldn't face this. He couldn't. Not again.

How many hearts did he have to leave at your door? How many notes did he have to scribble on his napkins? How many flowers did he have to get Liz or Iris to order for you? How much murder did he have to get through, just to get you? You modern, stubborn, darling, annoying thing!! Were you trying to torture him??

"Darling I have managed to order one of your favourite meals."

"My dear, I noticed this dress on a visitor so I killed her and had the dress washed for you. Please enjoy it."

"My hummingbird, what books do you enjoy nowadays?"

Question after question. Need after need. Physical affection halted. Just holding your fingers. Holding your hand against his lips was all he wanted. It would feed his desperation for you for months. All he wanted was a look. One measly look into your eyes. One small glint of hope that your relationship with the ghost had not fallen into his one with Elizabeth.

He came to accept that he once again had his heart broken. His ghostly void of a heart. Deader inside than it was before.

"James?" Your voice rang. Like a fire stoked after so long of ice. The killer was scrambling at your feet like a clingy puppy. Milking and lapping up the noise of his name leaving your lips. Still as wonderful, still as ethereal as ever. Yet he stayed silent. Don't say anything stupid now James, you'll ruin this opportunity. "Can you murder someone for me?"

"Yes. Yes of course my dear." James's voice was suddenly shaky, standing up and holding your hands to his chest. His free hand around the small of your back, like he had craved to do for so many weeks. "Name who and it will be done."

"Me."

Eye contact like none before. Was what you were asking true? Did you want him to be your murderer? Truly? "D-dear?"

"Kill me, James." You stated. "Whether or not you want theatrics, it's your choice."

There was a stunned silence from the ghost in front of you. For 5 minutes, the silence continued. His response was an uncharacteristic quiet and nervous answer. "Why? Why my dear? Why must you crave death when you are so loved by family outside this drab heap?" Almost rushed, worried. James had never been so rushed with his words. The usually calm, collected man was a mess in front of you. Desperate for you to be living your life. The most odd statement for him to think. What was he thinking? He wanted you with him 24/7, obviously, but you were so accomplished already in life, and offers were at your feet.

Even an offer to still live but have a blood-loving virus instead. She had offered gracefully and didn't expect an answer at once. Gave you time to think. Yet, The Countess waited still. She awaited an answer with lowering patience. Any new day, and she might've killed you herself or turn you anyway. Enjoyed the nectarine that kept you alive. The liquid was a rush of endorphins for the woman.

"Because I don't want that life, James. I need that life like I need a ton of bricks heaping upon me." Your eyes never broke his when you spoke your words calmly, and rationally. "I need you like I need a ton of bricks heaping upon me."

The ghost could only look worried and almost scared at your sentences. What on earth were you saying? What was this nonsense you had drilled into your mind? "...were my gifts not enough my bird? Were the..the.. darling meals I offered not enough?" He stammered his way through the cries. The pleas to keep you alive. Why, any other time you may have offered yourself, James would create a theatre performance out of it. An erotic performance. Looking into your eyes was nothing but a confirmation. "...as you wish my hummingbird." You dropped yourself out of his hold.

Walking yourself into your room. James followed close by, stalking you the way he had in the shadows for weeks on weeks. Your demand was simply insane, and it was nonsense in his head. Possibly the only person he never wanted to murder. He never wanted to lay his blade on your skin in any way. Whether you asked it from him so you could cum or not. That one, singular dress he stole for you, laid on your bed. Bare and blue. The navy glistened still under the barely dim light. Yet you could find his eyes still. "Will...you put the dress on for me my dear?" He asked, hesitantly. Blade twirling his fingers nervously. This was unlike the killer you knew. He was nervous, stammering, fiddling with his weapon. Scared? No, no. Of course, he wasn't scared. Was he?

The rustling of clothes brought him out of raging thoughts. The fabric he had laid bare for you, suddenly clinging to your skin. It still reeked of iron and floral perfume. The unflattering combation wafting into your nose, as it moved with you. "You are stuck in that dress forever when I do this. You understand that my darling?"

"Don't talk down to me. I know what the fuck I'm doing." You seethed back, just wanting this over with. Defiance was never something James took kindly to.

"You, my dear, speak to me like that again, your death will not be quick and simple like you desire."

"Just get it over with James." You snapped. Did you really hate him that much? Did you realise despise the killer so much you didn't want to enjoy this process?

The silence appeared for almost a strangling minute. Strangling for one word from either of you. James dared not speak his plan to you. It would only annoy you further. Only make your desire for a quick death stronger.

Instead, he simply knocked you out. Let you fall to the ground with a hard thump. As much as he loved you, James didn't like people speaking back to him. You were not an exception anymore.

Tying you down to wherever he could, the ropes tight. Tight to squeeze hard at your wrists and ankles. The circulation soon going dead, numbed by fibre keeping you upright. Instead of that dazzling, navy blue dress you wore, you were naked. Left only in whatever underwear you were wearing. A sight to behold. A sight James enjoyed all too much. He would take you now if it weren't for his respect for your body. Tugs at your wrist as you slowly woke from unconsciousness. Dingy dusk meeting your glazed, tired eyes. Blinking and gathering your bearings. Another tug. Wait? What was happening? "James?" You asked hoarse. Squirming in place against the cold metal table. Yeesh! Talk about freezing! "James, what am I doing on here?" You asked again.

Silence still.

Alright, you were starting to get a bit scared now. "J-James?" A wavering voice, a quivering lip. No! Get yourself together! It's simply...a little foreplay...you deluded yourself into thinking. Foreplay. That's all this was.

"I had given you plenty of time my dear." The muffled voice became louder as the steps grew closer. "Theatrics are what I desire from you. Love and obedience. It is a simple request yes?"

A moment of silence between the two of you. He took your silence as the answer.

"It seems even that could not be obtained from you. She has poisoned you against me." Ah, his childishness. Pettiness. The Countess hadn't done anything to you. Not yet anyway. "And the fact you decided to come to me for this murder, only means that I will continue to claim you." His needs to claim and want like a petulant child! It was annoying to no end. Always found yourself on the brink of yelling at the ghost to shut the fuck up for once. You wanted to rip that mask off of James and slice his lips off. Bash his teeth out so he knew how dreadful it was to be silenced. How much it was despised.

You kept your lips shut. You shut yourself up and did not speak another word. Speaking out fear would only encourage James to take his time. It would only increase his lust for your screams. Fuck this. You tugged. You pulled and panted as you struggled. If you didn't know any better, you'd think James was getting hard from this scenario. Loving the way your chest moved as your breathing increased. How shaky your legs were looking. How terrible the grip was your hands had, on nothing. A lulled head as your struggles became useless. Obviously, it was useless. That logic became clear enough within the first few seconds of your attempt to free yourself.

A bittersweet kiss on your quivering lips. Murdering fingers finding your jaw and holding your head up. "Even when you are struggling you are still ethereal my dear." Damn this man to all hell. He was in love and lust and obsession. A disgusting killer who murdered dozens. Still murders dozens. The thought that he carved a soul out of every person who passed him by...just to leave it in your room for your next visit. Deranged and manic. Nothing but pure insanity.

"fuu...fuck you.." Your words were tired, lifeless already.

"I have given you ample opportunities to do so my dear. Yet you never reciprocate."

A harsh silence fell yet again. It lingered in the room for what felt like hours. It stung with every breath leaving your lungs. Harsh and continuing reminders of the predicament you were stuck in. The ghostly killer who loved you so, prepared to torture your unfaint heart. Of course, you were used to grim, unfair and macabre ways of life. No one gets anywhere by playing fair, do they? You certainly didn't. You never played by the rules or played fair with others close by. Ticking and slipping cuts, wages and skin here. There. Everywhere.

However, it seemed all for nought at this point. Only to become an unwilling cherry on top of James' list of loves and lusts. Just where he wanted you.

Your voice was worn eventually. Your shaking had not quit. Your head lulled again. Yet, he was just starting. Cuts that covered your arms. Dripping the blood down the side of your body. Warm red liquid making you shiver and squirm as it slowly eased out of the spliced skin. Such beautiful skin. If only you had loved James back the way he wanted you to. Useless, heavy breaths that never deterred your killer of a lover. His cuts started with a dull, rusty blade. A 'J' on your palms. Jagged and unfit letters now etched into your hand. Swift, sharp gashes in random directions on your forearms, making small cries and screams leave those pretty kissable lips of yours. A quick repeat on your other arm. Oh, it was like a work of art... truly it was. Such decorated arms, bleeding red, never-ending. It might've killed you just then. "Determined to live aren't you?"

"Please... please James. Please. I'll be good, I'll love you the way you want again. Please just stop."

Oh no no no no...no..you sweet thing. That wasn't good enough anymore. Nope. Your sweet sobs and begs wouldn't get you anywhere anymore. Despite how much James wanted to kiss those cuts he made and love you eternally. "You said you wanted to die, and die you shall." His voice was still calm, cool and collected. How could a man like James go from a whining, needy man-child, to a tall-standing, confident killer? Oh right. Because he was obsessed with you. You were all he craved. Now you had ruined it. You didn't love him anymore. And it broke him into more pieces he couldn't pick up. Spending years scraping the bottom of the barrel for affection from James. Yet now, he didn't feel a need for that from you.

The rusty blade teasing your throat, pushing slightly against that pressure point needed. Only for a moment. Breathing heavy and... almost a whine escaping you once it was pulled from your neck. "Desperate for the release death will bring my pet... You are more naïve than I believed."

Large, unkind slashes to your legs. One after the other, never stopping until James was satisfied. He was never satisfied. Your constant, tired and weepy gaze on him. Sniffling nothing as you pouted those spit-covered, pretty red lips of yours. You looked like you were teasing him, not on purpose of course. You were naturally a sobbing, drivelling mess right now. And it could not have pleased your killer more. "Do not look so prettily upon me my dear, you may make me feel bad." He hummed nonchalantly, dragging the tip of the blade up your cervix. One long cut, making a horrible, rusty mark against the underwear you wore. Yet, it still split, and cold, uncaring air was swiftly met.

The cuts to your torso were different. He couldn't do as you probably well pleased, since any cut would mean death. And he wanted to kill you how he killed himself. The sweet slice to your neck. Making blood splatter and splutter down your body, covering James as it sprayed. Convulsing and screams, whimpers escaping you. Your death was approaching faster than expected. And James had decided to once again give you a kiss. Taking his, frankly, attractive, mask off and holding your bloody chin up. Lost eyes not focusing. You were colder. You couldn't tell your surroundings. "I knew you would die beautifully my darling." He faintly whispered. Cold lips meeting fleeting warmth. Oh, he loved kissing you. Even if that kiss was one pressed to your now corpse.

Death was different. It wasn't heaven or hell like Christians described. It wasn't like a waiting room like your parents described. It wasn't like a meeting with a hooded skeleton and a ride to the underworld like your sibling described. It was cold. Silent. Unloved. Black and nothing. It had consumed you whole. Eaten you like a starving man would any bug he could find on the street. Death was uncaring like the living world was. It didn't care what you were in life. An angel to others or a nuisance running amok, you were all consumed. Taken wholly by a void that rarely spat you back out. If it did, you were a ghost. The soul that couldn't be kept down.

The running void consumed you for 10 minutes. 15, tops. James was almost worried you were not about to ghost the place he needed you to call home. He stood and observed. Watched your corpse become cold and rigid. You died so beautifully. All the ghostly killer did was stand and watch. He watched, frozen in place. Was your soul even that upset at the other? Maybe he should weaken himself for your soul to appear. "Dear...you do realise I need you still yes? Come on. I am aware of you.." he urged your stiff body. Minutes passed. The ticking of his internal clock was growing more invasive, more panicky as he had not seen a shift of your soul yet. "This is not a game my pet, come to me. Now."

Your soul appeared eventually. Slumped on your knees by your rotting body. Rubbing your eyes like a sleepy child, before gathering your bearings and looking up at James. Sudden memories hitting your head and a cowering whimper escaping you. He took notice of the noise and looked down at you. Throwing his mask to the side as he scooped your ghost up, and laid you out on the scratchy sheets. Too much movement for someone who just spent 15 minutes in a void. "J-James..stop.." you urged quietly as he placed kisses over you. Over your face, your neck, clavicle. Every single little cut on your body he kissed. It wasn't soothing despite what he thought. It wasn't sweet and loving like he so craved. "Stop!"

His eyes became worried and wide as he pulled himself away from your thigh. "Dear?" The ghost was clingy. Horribly clingy.

"Can you give me like 5 fucking seconds before you try and fuck my ghost?"

"b-but darling-"

"James! Give. Me. A. Fucking moment. Understand me?" He cowered again, scared to lose you again. A nod as a response as James got up and left the room without another word. Instead of walking down to his room and having a drink, he stood patiently outside your door and waited. He would wait for the rest of eternity. If he had to.

Your legs were shaky. You explored yourself in the mirror. Dried blood making your skin tinged a little bit. "god..." The whisper leaving you as your arms were practically wound after wound. Your legs as well. The wounds were a physical reminder of the fact your killer was your lover.

You wanted this. You wanted to die here.

But not like this. Not this way. Not with two 'J' 's on your palms, reminding you of the man outside your door. Blinking, you tore away from the mirror, refusing to face yourself anymore.

There, on the bed, laid your clothes before you died, and the dress you were offered so generously. Either way, you were going commando for the rest of time, and then some, so both options were uncomfortable in some way. A sweater and jeans it was. The clothes rustled as they fit you snugly. "Fuck...fuck!!" Emerged from your lips as you paced around the room. "Ohhhh fuck this. This fucking...shitty...bullshit!!" Every word that left you only served as a reminder that you wanted to die. Needing to remind yourself that you were the one who asked to be killed. Unsatisfied with your life and the people in it.

James decided to step into your room now, clicking his tongue disapprovingly. "I thought I taught you to not swear my dear."

"Fuck you!" You started, immediately getting up in James' face without an issue. Practically stomping around him as the harsh words dug into the soul's head and heart. "Fuck you, you fucking prick. 1920s fucking... serial killer. God, you're so hot you annoy the shit out of me! Seriously, why the fuck did you have to fucking kill me this way you fucker?! I expected one fucking slash to the neck, done deal!!"

The ghost, of course, was used to such theatrics from you and stood patiently. Waiting for you to stop spitting venom onto his feet as you circled him. Your words stopped, and he held you again. James simply took you by your waist, holding you tight against him. His hand on the small of your back, his other hand holding yours. Reminiscent of when you asked him to kill you. Bringing you flush against his chest. The angry mutters became silent sniffles and pathetic tears. Blinking and looking up at the killer you adored, hated.

"I fucking hate you."

"No, you don't hate me."

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

Tags: @babygorewhore / @taintandviolent / @oceanblvd111 / @nahoyasboyfriend / @coentinim / @slutforgarlogan / @briaroftheroses @am3ricanh0rrorwh0re /. @evanpeterspeter / @feefymo / @fear-is-truth / @lacucarachapisser / @marchsfreak / @saintlucretia / @jazz-berry / @t8-ak47

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melloollem · 7 months ago

Text

Family Conflicts|| Bruce Wayne × Batmom Fem!reader × (Platonic)Jason Todd

Summary: Bruce mulls over the guilt he feels after a fight with Jason, you're the one who advises him and tries to sort things out.

Warnings: Comfort (with anguish), Platonic relationship with Jason, Family conflicts.

(DC masterlist)

You were drying your hair after getting out of the shower, and walked into the room you shared. Bruce was sitting on the right side of the bed staring at the large pane of glass that overlooked the house's garden, too immersed in his own thoughts to recognize your presence.

You were aware that the recent argument was still plaguing his mind. You let the silence linger in the room for a while longer while you put on your clothes, waiting for him to take the initiative to talk to you. When you had finished, you leaned against one of the walls of the room, watching Bruce's back. The nights in Gotham were brutal, and the scars on his back couldn't deny it.

After a few minutes, a click escapes your mouth as you realize that he would choose to ignore your presence "Aren't you going to say anything?" Your voice broke through the man's numb state, but the silence remained, drawing a weary sigh from you. You wished the constant conflicts and obligations didn't consume Bruce's mind as much as they do, but you knew that was too much to ask of him, a man entirely dedicated to everything he did.

"Everything will be fine, he just needs some time." Bruce's guilt was consuming him, Jason was no longer the unstoppable killer whose goal was to kill Batman, but the relationship between the family was still complicated, everything was still too sensitive, like an inflamed wound.

"He doesn't hate you, he just needs some time," you repeated the assurance, trying to get into your husband's mind. "He was clear about how he felt," Bruce said to you for the first time that night, still motionless.

"So that's all I had to say to get you to say something" Your sarcasm lacked any real anger at Bruce's behavior, already used to dealing with the complicated man he was. "He'll never forgive me" That wasn't half of what he wanted to say, but it was all he had the courage to admit. Bruce was never the kind of person to speak his mind openly, you had to read him, understand him beyond his words and you were very good at doing that.

"You don't believe that. He's disappointed, but you can fix it." You knew that it would be much harder for Bruce and Jason to work things out, much harder than it was for you and Jason, not because Jason blamed you less for what happened, but because he and Bruce were too similar for their own good, Jason would never say what he felt out loud and neither would Bruce and they always hurt each other because between half-words Jason saw the worst in Bruce and Bruce saw a lot of his faults in Jason.

"What about you? Are you disappointed in me?" The blue-eyed man knew that he had acted improperly, despite Jason's behavior, Bruce knew that this was not the ideal occasion. You took too long to convince your son to return to the mansion and when he finally did, Bruce used the moment to reprimand him.

"I'm not sure, I just..." you bit your lips apprehensively "I wish you hadn't done that" you too were trying to make things right. It was distressing to see Bruce taking all the blame on himself and taking away the responsibility you had with Jason. "I need you to trust me, Bruce. We're in this together." There was no point in fighting with the man, he knew where he had gone wrong in this situation.

You moved across the room to stand in front of Bruce, you held his chin to make him look at you, guilt staining his blue eyes. He didn't want to ruin the progress you were making with your son, but it seemed that was all he had done since Jason's return. He knew the boy blamed you both equally, but when he made himself willing to move on, you managed to warm Jason's heart faster than Bruce could ever have wished. While Bruce mulled over the guilt of Jason's death, you sought the boy's forgiveness.

"I'm sorry" Bruce didn't know exactly what he was apologizing for, there were many of his actions that needed forgiveness, but you accepted it openly, knowing the sincerity of the words. "Everything will be fine" Bruce leaned his head on your stomach as he heard your words, that statement was all he could ever want from you. "I love you" he breathed as he closed his eyes, his words sounded like an oath, an intimate pact between you and an affirmation of the trust he had in your words "We can sort things out with Jason, okay? Both of us".

＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿

I was putting off posting this because I really like the story and I was afraid of how it would play out, but the fact is that I was afraid people wouldn't understand it. I don't think Bruce is a bad father, but he's certainly a complicated person. I know that's a bad summary and a bad name. Thank you to anyone who read this story. This is a repost.

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just-jordie-things · 1 year ago

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[part sixteen] to build a home - gojo satoru

word count: 8.8k warnings: !!manga spoilers!! swearing, jjk-verse style fighting series summary: when (y/n) (y/l/n) catches wind that the notorious sorcerer killer, toji fushiguro, has children, she makes it her personal mission to find them. the catch being she couldn't tell a soul about them- the risk of the zen'in clan learning about them was too great. keeping the secret isn't the hard part, it's lying to her friends, shoko ieiri, geto suguru, and of course gojo satoru, that she struggles with. especially when satoru has suddenly become so keen on keeping an eye on her lately.

series masterlist

[part sixteen] : "The True End"

___

Today was cloudy.

(y/n) didn’t like to believe in silly superstitions, especially weather related ones, but she couldn’t deny that the gray skies and chilly breeze unsettled her.

“So they’re my family?”

She didn’t look down at Megumi, didn’t slow her pace, or show any sign of even hearing him at all. Every question he and his sister had asked in the last ten minutes of their walk had made it to her ears and nestled inside of her paranoid mind, but (y/n) had barely spoken in that time.

In fact, since she’d picked them up and told them exactly where they were going today, she’d barely spoken since. She tried to tell herself that it wasn’t because of fear, that she was simply trying to find the right truths to tell the children. But the leather belt under her shirt that was starting to rub her skin raw felt heavy today, even though it only held a single knife, and she was used to carrying two swords.

“Not really. They’re Dad’s family” Tsumiki corrected her younger brother.

Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to have the blade on her, after all she’d told Satoru that she wouldn’t do anything reckless. But she wasn’t about to show up at the Zen’in Clan’s compound empty handed and without a means to defend herself. That would be the reckless thing, right?

“And they want me to go live with them because of my dogs?”

“It’s ‘cause you’re a sorcerer” Tsumiki corrected again.

Megumi’s brows furrowed in annoyance at his sister, before he looked up at (y/n) again, hoping she would ease his confusion. He was growing impatient with her silence.

“Well, can’t we just tell them I don’t wanna live with a bunch of strangers?” He asks with a huff.

Finally, (y/n) tilts her head down, bestowing him with her attention. Admittedly, she only gives in because they’d finally reached the meeting place in town that she’d been taking them to, but she realizes she’s been ignoring him for too long, and it wasn’t fair.

The three of them stopped right there on the sidewalk, standing just outside of a shop that didn’t seem too busy, so they wouldn’t be in the way. (y/n) crouches before them so she would be at eye level before explaining the plan, again. “I know this is a lot to take in,” She begins. “And I’m happy to answer all of your questions, if I can, that is. But I need you both to listen very carefully, okay?”

Megumi and Tsumiki give rapid nods of their heads.

“Your father is from the Zen’in Clan, do you remember me talking to you about them, Megumi?”

The boy nods again. “So you remember that they’re a very wealthy family, with a lot of control in the jujutsu society?”

Another nod.

“They think that you’re theirs,” (y/n) says carefully. “They’re old fashioned, and think they deserve to keep you all to themselves. They would pull you out of school, away from Tsumiki, and teach you and raise you themselves. They know that you’re strong, and that you’ll grow up to be one of the finest sorcerers that this world has ever seen. But Megumi…”

She trails off, unsure of how to communicate to him that they weren’t safe. If this plan failed and the Zen’ins claimed him, she didn’t want him to be afraid.

“I don’t want to go with them” Megumi says before (y/n) could finish, and she gives him a small smile.

“Then you won’t,” She says decidedly, standing up and placing a hand on both of their heads. “All that matters is what you want, okay?”

“I want to stay with Tsumiki,” Megumi decides, and (y/n) retracts her hands as he shuffles closer to his sister, who beams brightly. “And you” He adds in a smaller voice.

“Alright,” (y/n) hums with an affirmative nod. “We’re going to make that happen. I have a friend who’s agreed to help too”

“Another sorcerer?” Tsumiki asks.

“He is,” (y/n) says, glancing around the area. “He should be here soon, actually. I’d like you both to meet him before we-”

“Oi!”

Startled by the holler, (y/n) jumps as she whips her head in the opposite direction, although she shouldn’t be surprised as Satoru comes rushing towards them with a bag in his hands that is undoubtedly sweets. Speaking of the devil…

Her brows furrow.

If this idiot made a pitstop for snacks before meeting us here…

Megumi’s expression is just as sour as he watches the stranger approach them with a pair of sunglasses and a wide grin on his face. If this was (y/n’s) friend, and he assumed it was, he already wasn’t a fan.

(y/n) made a motion to the Fushiguro kids, silently telling them to stay put, before she walked towards Satoru with her hands on her hips, ready to scold him.

“You did not go get snacks,” She said in a low voice, just to be sure Megumi and Tsumiki wouldn’t overhear. “You’re late, you know”

“I’m not that late,” Satoru waved his hand dismissively. “Besides, I figured the mood would be a downer,” He peeks over her shoulder at the two children that were watching them like hawks.

The one, the girl, had wide eyes and a curious look about her face as she glanced between him and (y/n), as though she were mentally trying to fill in the gaps of their relation to one another. It wasn’t necessarily an eerie look, in fact she wore a sweet smile, but the investigative eyes did have his skin crawl with that feeling of being watched. The other, the boy, was a whole other story. His eyes were pointed in a clear glare, unmoving, unblinking, focused solely on Satoru. There’s a shadow of a much older man on the young child’s features, something dark and mysterious- too mysterious for a kid that (y/n) had told him was only eight years old. And yet, despite the heavy evil eye, he almost seems unbothered, unimpressed, already irritated.

This was the brat that had inherited Ten Shadows?

“And I was right. Sheesh,” Satoru quickly brought his attention back to her. “What’s wrong with the little one? You feeding him too many vegetables?”

(y/n) narrowed her eyes as she frowned.

“Well, good thing I brought dessert!” He’s beaming again as he lifts the paper bag in his hand. “Every kid can be bought with dessert”

“That’s not…ugh,” (y/n) huffs, crossing her arms over her chest. “We’re literally trying to stop a kid from being bought today, Satoru,” She mutters. “And could you just… could you tone it down? You’re gonna freak ‘em out”

“Relax, sweetheart, I’m great with kids” Satoru said with a smile that told her he’d never been around kids in his life.

“Oh god” She mumbled to herself.

“Watch this” He winked at her before sidestepping and heading towards the Fushiguro kids- who had watched their whole interaction, and were very curious as to who this stranger was.

“I don’t think (y/n) likes him,” Megumi whispered to his sister. “I don’t like him either”

“You haven’t even met him,” Tsumiki whispered back quickly before the approaching man could overhear. “Just try to be nice” She hisses with a small kick to his foot.

Satoru kneels before them both, a grin twisting so far up his lips it took up most of his face. He glances between them quickly before speaking.

“Hi! I’m Gojo Satoru!” He greets, too loudly, but he doesn’t seem to be embarrassed about it.

(y/n) stands behind him, giving both kids a kind look that said just be friendly. Megumi’s disinterested face turns into a slight pout, and Tsumiki’s smile is forced and awkward. Good enough, (y/n) thinks.

“So your Dad… I ki-”

Before Satoru could finish, (y/n’s) foot is colliding with his ankle, and he’s hissing in pain and making a face up at her like he had no idea what he’d done wrong.

“He knew your Dad, too,” (y/n) speaks for him, stepping in front of him as a silent way to tell him he was done introducing himself. “Anyways, we should get going now. You can talk more on the way, if you want”

“You can ask me anything!” Satoru tells them happily. “I’m the strongest sorcerer in the world!”

“Really?” Tsumiki asks with round eyes, and Satoru nods proudly.

Megumi rolls his eyes and scampers over to (y/n’s) other side, so he wouldn’t have to walk next to the weirdo with the white hair. He didn’t understand why they needed his help, because he seemed too annoying to actually provide them a service, but he kept his thoughts to himself. (y/n) wouldn’t have brought him along if he wasn’t important somehow, and he didn’t want to make (y/n) feel bad. And also, the sun wasn’t even out, what were the sunglasses for? To look cool? It wasn’t working.

However, Megumi is an eight year old that doesn’t know how to hold a poker face, so (y/n) was well aware of the boy’s irritation with Satoru. When he made a point to walk next to her and away from where Satoru and Tsumiki were engaged in a conversation about anime, she gave him a fond smile.

He blinks back at her, before furrowing his brows, not knowing why she was making that face.

“He’ll grow on you” She whispers to him, before giving him a discreet wink.

Megumi frowns, dropping his head to face forward as they walk. He doesn’t know how that could be true, especially when he’d just watched her interact with him and she seemed as equally frustrated as he was.

“I hope not” He mutters, and (y/n) laughs.

The rest of their trip is mostly light hearted. Tsumiki has an endless amount of questions, and Megumi warms up in the slightest when Gojo hands out the donuts he’d brought- although he still doesn’t leave (y/n’s) side.

In fact, when they finally reach the Zen’ins’ compound, he becomes glued to her. As soon as they cross the threshold and stand at the grand double-door gated entrance to their home, Megumi slides closer to (y/n) until he’s almost hugging her leg, although he keeps his hands firmly placed in the pocket of his sweatshirt.

“This’ll be easy peasy,” Satoru scoffs, and waves a dismissive hand. Both kids peek over at him unsurely, not sure what to believe about their fate. “I’ll go in and talk to ‘em. You guys can wait out here”

“I think I should go in, too,” (y/n) says softly, taking a step closer to him so that the kids didn’t have to hear her grave tone. “They’re going to have questions for me”

She didn’t feel the need to mention that if things went south and this was some sort of ambush, a cowardly ploy on behalf of the Zen’ins to make her pay for her alleged crimes against them, that she very much was prepared to challenge them. The sheath resting at the dip of her spine wasn’t concealing a blade without reason. It may not have been her beloved swords, but it was something that she wasn’t afraid to use. Promises to play nice and not act recklessly be damned.

“And if they’re decent then I’ll come get you,” Satoru drops his happy-go-lucky facade as he talks under his breath. “But for now I think you should stay with them,”

He nods his head down, and (y/n) glances down to see that like a shadow, Megumi had followed her every movement, and was still trapped at her side. Today, he seemed more like a kid than any other. Megumi always had a knack for walking and talking like he was older than he was. Now that the life he’d grown so accustomed to was at stake, he seemed to retreat into himself. (y/n) gives him a warm smile, before turning her attention back to Satoru. She looks unsure, undecided on what the right thing to do was.

“It’ll be fine,” He tells her with a nod of his head.

She barely nods back at him, chewing on the inside of her cheek to try and calm her nerves. If she appeared as nervous as she felt, then she would only make the kids uneasy, and they were already worried sick. Then again, so was she.

“I’ll try and be quick, alright?” Satoru tells her with as much certainty as he could manage.

“Alright,” She whispers back, and grabs onto his hand before she speaks again. She’s standing close enough that the sunglasses don’t hide his eyes as well, and she can see his seriousness behind them. “Thank you, Satoru”

His hand squeezes hers, his hold lingering a few moments longer than it should have, before he lets her go, and heads towards the house.

(y/n) bites too hard on her cheek, the awfully familiar metallic taste of blood pooling at her tongue. She winces as she watches Satoru enter the house, the doors shutting behind him.

Tsumiki and Megumi don’t say a word, but when their eyes meet they don’t have to speak to know they’ve both witnessed the same interaction that was much different than the one they’d seen before.

The blood in her mouth feels like poison as she looks down at them, and can see how hard they’re both trying to be brave. They’re holding back their tears, and their faces hold a hard expression. Still, if she watches for long enough, she can see the way the corner of Megumi’s mouth quivers with emotion.

All three of them stood frozen for a few minutes, their breaths baited, and any kind of words to be spoken between them were stuck in their throat, or lost. No one knew the right thing to say or do. There was no right thing to say or do. All they could do was wait.

The touch of small, cold fingers against (y/n’s) hand makes her shoot her eyes downwards, just as Megumi slips his hand against her palm. He gives her a small smile, and she hopes her eyes won’t start watering as she smiles back.

That’s when she feels a similar sensation on her other side, where she finds Tsumiki also holding her hand, squeezing it gently.

(y/n) holds both of their hands securely, communicating everything she couldn’t say in words to them at that moment. This is why Satoru had her stay behind, now she understood. They needed her, and this very well could be their last moments spent together. ___

It feels like hours when the doors finally open again, even though it’s barely been forty five minutes.

(y/n) feels every muscle in her body tense and go rigid as she waits for a figure to appear, her eyes unblinking as she tracks any kind of movement that could come from the inside of the house.

Her heart leaps into her throat, pounding so hard and choking her with her own breath, she thinks she might vomit, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the door.

Before she could try to be optimistic, she assumed the worst. That their plan failed. That despite his god-like stature within the jujutsu society, Gojo Satoru wasn’t enough to convince the Zen’ins to drop their pursuit of Fushiguro Megumi. Perhaps they were offended that he’d even approached them. Perhaps it was still a silly pissing contest of respect they were after, and it was never even about the kid or his manifestation of Ten Shadows.

Her hand slid around her hip before landing on the ridge under her shirt where her weapon sat, waiting. She didn’t make a move to unsheath it, but she kept her fingers firmly pressed against it, in the case that her last resort has now become Plan A, and she’d have to make a snap decision to brandish it.

Just as she’s ready to draw up a plan of attack, Satoru steps into view, and her breath finally escapes her in a shaky sigh. She doesn’t know yet if she should feel relieved, or if the weight on her shoulders would only grow heavier.

Behind Satoru follows another figure, one who (y/n) had only seen once before, but didn’t need a re-introduction to remember who he was. That mustache was unmistakable.

She looks down to the Fushiguro kids, grabbing their hands again and squeezing them gently.

“I don’t want to go” Megumi whispers out, fast, like he’s afraid of even admitting it. His eyes are wide and filling with tears faster by the second, and his small hand grips hers so tightly that he’s trembling.

He knows he’s not strong enough to keep her put, and he knows that she’s about to leave him. “You’re not going anywhere,” (y/n) whispers back, “I won’t let that happen,”

Her words are certain, too certain for not knowing what would come next, but she grants them one last lie to appease their troubled minds.

“Stay right here”

She gives them both a look to make sure they could see she was gravely serious. Then she lets them go, and moves with a quick step towards Satoru and the head of the Zen’in Clan.

Megumi takes a step as though to follow right behind her, but Tsumiki grabs his hand to stop him. When he looks at her, she shakes her head in a small motion, and moves her hand to grab onto his.

It wasn’t like Megumi to hold hands so much, but he squeezed his sister’s palm as he followed her silent command and stayed by her side.

His free hand raises to his chest, resting over the bump under his tee shirt. Small fingers wrap around the pendant of the cursed tool (y/n) had given him, clutching onto it just tightly enough that it wouldn’t burst. If he focused enough, he could almost feel it buzzing softly in his palm, warm vibrations bursting through the rock and into his skin. Was this cursed energy?

As she walks, (y/n) can feel every movement of her concealed harness against her skin. Every step she took it would ride up her waist, and then slide back down to her hip. It was a small movement, but the leather on her skin seemed to irritate her more the closer she grew. Irritation quickly grew into rage, and a desire of bloodlust once Zen’in Naobito was in closer view. That stupid mustache had her aching to draw her weapon.

But she’d made a promise that she wouldn’t draw first blood, and she’d grown tired of the liar she’d become in the past few months.

“So you’re the (y/l/n) (y/n) that I’ve had to hear so much about…”

Naobito’s voice piqued with interest, but his dull eyes held nothing but disdain as he looked at her. (y/n) remained silent, her eyes fleeting to Satoru for a brief moment before falling on the head of the Zen’in Clan again. She tried to keep her expression neutral, but she knew that like him, she couldn’t keep her emotions out of her eyes.

“You sure like to stir up a lot of trouble, don’t you? And over nothing but a kid… it’s almost pitiful, Miss (y/l/n)” Naobito continues. He arches a brow at her, as though giving her permission to speak.

Or perhaps he was instigating, hoping to make her slip up so that his retaliation was unquestionably justified. (y/n) makes a mental note of this, and keeps her hands firmly at her sides so there could be no confusion in her stance. She was here respectfully, and had no malicious intention.

She can’t help the way her lip curls into a snarl, but she keeps her voice steady. Almost eerily so.

“I found the kids that Sorcerer Killer Fushiguro Toji abandoned,” She states, reminding him of the title one of their own had notoriously earned.

This seems to make Naobito tick, as his eyes narrow in the slightest. Beside him, Satoru smirks. She takes this as a sign that she hadn’t crossed a boundary that she couldn’t still come back from.

“Kids, by the way,” She repeated herself. “He had two. Not just one”

Naobito hums in response. He turns to give Satoru a look, as though unamused by her behavior. Satoru’s smirk widens into a small grin as he looks down at him. “I told you, geezer, tch,” Satoru shrugs a shoulder as he tucks his hands into his pockets. Being the strongest, there was no boundary he couldn’t cross, so he disrespected Naobito with casual ease. He was practically invincible. “You’re the one that wanted to talk to her”

(y/n) watched their brief interaction with careful eyes, wishing she’d been in on the loop of what happened inside. It was starting to drive her mad, not knowing, but she kept up her relaxed, uncaring exterior.

“Yes, well, I suppose I had my curiosities…” Naobito muttered as he turned back to (y/n). He chuckles with amusement before he speaks again. “But, did you really think you could come to my home with a blade that small and overpower me?”

How did he..? (y/n’s) eyes widen, and she tries to read his body language to figure out if he was planning to strike. His mustache twitches as he smirks, and she realizes he was just trying to show off a little power.

Typical.

“You’re lucky she didn’t bring more, old man,” Satoru scoffs, his hand clapping onto the older man’s shoulder as he bends his knees to enter his personal space, in order to grin right in his face. “You’re welcome, by the way,” He says.

It’s the first time Naobito’s exterior cracks, his eyes widening as the Six Eyes user stays far too close for his liking, but when it comes to Gojo Satoru, he’s stripped of all power. He’s defenseless, vulnerable. (y/n) revels in the sight of such an egotistical man, so proud of what little power he had, being put in his place and shown what real power looked like. And Satoru had no problem showing off a little. It didn’t take much to remind a man like Zen’in Naobito who had the upper hand.

“Because I almost let her kill you,” Satoru speaks through his grin, but his voice is low and threatening. He lingers there for a moment longer before leaning back and letting out a bark of a laugh. “But no worries!” He cheers, his phony happy charade back on. “I figured you weren’t worth all the trouble. And it turns out ya aren’t, are ya, Zen’in?”

(y/n’s) eyes blink wide at the first hint of how their conversation had gone. Was Satoru successful? Heat coursed through her body as her heart began pumping faster with impatience. Was it resolved? Were the Fushiguro kids safe?

Naobito scoffs, crossing his arms and turning his head away from Satoru. This action had (y/n’s) optimism skyrocketing, and her hope overcame her.

“So you’ll leave us alone?” (y/n) asks, her eyes practically on fire as she stares down the head of the clan. “You’ll leave them alone?”

Naobito scowls back at her without a word.

“He sure will,” Satoru grins, walking away from the man and towards her now.

Her expression was frozen with surprise, but her heart was doing somersaults of joy in her chest.

“All these old geezers can just be bought,” Satoru smirks, before turning towards Naobito again. “Ain’t that right, old man?”

Naobito makes a noise of irritation before waving a dismissive hand, and completely turning around. (y/n) almost laughs. Some power he had, and now here he was, reduced to acting like a child that didn’t get his way.

“You got what you want, Gojo,” He spits out Satoru’s family name with more poison than anyone else would dare. “Now get off my property before I change my mind”

(y/n) blinks, her jaw dropping open as she stared at the Zen’in in shock, but Satoru’s slinging an arm around her shoulder and nearly making her trip over her feet as he pulls her back to where Megumi and Tsumiki are waiting.

“So- so they’re-” She stutters, her wide eyes staring up at him, awaiting his explanation on everything that transpired.

“We can talk about all the specifics later,” Satoru says with a small smile. “It’s all settled. The kids will be left alone”

Slowly, as if the words needed to process one by one in her mind, a smile began to creep across her lips.

“Really?” (y/n) gasped.

Satoru looked down at her, and despite the negotiation he’d worked out in his favor just minutes ago, he finally felt relief wash over him as he looked at her.

She was so happy, her smile was all teeth, her eyes were gleaming with joy, and he doesn’t even care about what this means for them or their future as sorcerers because she looks like that and she’s looking at him.

“Really” He murmurs back in quiet affirmation.

She just about launches herself into his arms, but just as she’s about to throw caution to the wind, two small figures are running towards her, closing the distance between them quickly. Too impatient to wait, they begin to holler.

“Well!?” Megumi’s eyes are wide as he pulls his sister along with him.

“Does he have to go!?” Tsumiki yells over him.

(y/n) glances back to Satoru, about to apologize for being interrupted, but he drops his arm from around her shoulder and nods his head towards the pair of brats who are still yelling their questions and concerns. She gives him a small smile, before turning away and running towards them both.

This makes both Megumi and Tsumiki stop in their tracks, their eyes blowing wide as they freeze up like deer in headlights. They don’t have a chance to brace themselves before (y/n’s) sliding onto the ground, the grass inevitably staining the pants of her uniform as she does so, but she doesn’t care.

Her arms are thrown around both of them, and they’re quick to return the gesture, hugging her, and each other, in an embrace that was tighter than they’ve ever experienced before.

(y/n) doesn’t give them the news they’d been waiting for, but she doesn’t have to. Not with words, anyways.

She’s laughing, boisterously so, her whole body vibrating with her joy. And soon, without reason beyond her own happiness seeping into them, Megumi and Tsumiki are laughing too.

Small hands clutch tightly at her arms and on the back of her shirt as all three of them giggle together, and maybe a few tears fall from their eyes as they do, but no one cares.

Everything was okay.

They were all safe.

When they part from one another, they remain seated on the ground for a few minutes longer. (y/n) doesn’t mind her own tears of joy falling down her cheeks as she reaches out to wipe their tears away.

Satoru watches as both kids smile wider at her than he’s ever seen in his life. He didn’t even think the boy was capable of smiling, but here he was, smiling and crying over this girl. He stands back a ways, enough to give them their moment of celebration, but he can see clearly that they’re equally relieved to not be taken from one another.

“Don’t cry, don’t cry,” (y/n) coos as she continues to wipe away their tears. “It’s alright, everything’s alright, no one is going anywhere”

She’s stammering out her words a bit, and Satoru almost chuckles at how her delight overcomes her. It looks good on her, her happiness.

“You’re crying” Tsumiki says, mirroring (y/n’s) action and bringing her small hands to her face, hastily clearing away the wetness.

“It wouldn’t be the first time you shitheads made me cry,” (y/n) teases, but the mirth in her eyes tells them that she doesn’t regret a thing. Megumi and Tsumiki laugh, easily humored by her foul language. “Come on, let’s get the hell out of here, yeah?”

They nod back at her excitedly, and when she gets up, they stand at either side of her so they can both hold her hand.

(y/n) looks back at Satoru, her eyes still misty but her smile rivaling the sun’s brightness. He smiles back at her as he walks over to join them again.

“This means we get to go home, right?” Megumi asks hopefully.

Satoru sucks in a sharp breath before his lips curl into a small smirk. All three looked at him, puzzled at what the hesitation was.

“Well, about that…” ___

(y/n) stares up at the building that Satoru had brought them to, her eyes wide and her mouth dropped open. She’d been frozen like that for a minute now, while Satoru grins madly, and the Fushiguro kids wait for further explanation about where they are right now.

“When the fuck did you-”

“Woah! Language!” Satoru scolds her. “And you know me. I pull strings”

“What is this?” Megumi asked, waiting for (y/n’s) response, but she was still gaping at the building.

“Come on,” Satoru nods for the group to follow him inside. “I’ll show you!”

The lobby is nice without being so fancy it was overwhelming and awkward. It’s clean with sharp black tiling, and a few pieces of furniture for lounging against the wall. The clerk at the desk welcomed Satoru by name, and (y/n’s) shocked expression followed the whole interaction.

The Fushiguro kids followed close by her side as they gathered in an elevator. Satoru pushed the number four, and the doors slid shut. He takes a moment to give (y/n) a shit eating grin. She only furrowed her brows and tilted her head at him, at a loss for words.

Did he really..?

With a soft ding The elevator doors slid back open, and Satoru beckoned them to follow as he led them down a hallway, pausing shortly.

“Here we are,” He dug through his pocket, before displaying a key to them. His grin only worsened as he unlocked the door and gestured for everyone to enter.

Megumi and Tsumiki looked up at (y/n), as though awaiting her permission. She chuckled and nodded her head for them to go on in. That was all the more they needed before they were racing inside, gasping and aweing at the perfectly clean and new apartment. In seconds they were out of sight, exploring the new space.

“After you” Satoru said to (y/n), who was still stuck in the doorway. She looked over to him, her lips parted and her eyes round as it was confirmed before her.

“When did you..?” The rest of her question fails her, and she shakes her head at him in an attempt to communicate her total state of confusion.

They’d stayed up through most of the night together, planning for their meeting with the Zen’ins. There couldn’t have possibly been time for Satoru to go through the trouble of renting an apartment. On such short notice? With the hassle of paperwork and a down payment and everything? The process would normally take days, maybe even weeks, but somehow, overnight, he’d managed to secure an empty apartment that was closer to Jujutsu Tech than the Fushiguro house? (y/n) wouldn’t believe it if she wasn’t standing in front of it right now.

“Don’t you want to go inside?” Satoru asked, drawing her out of her thoughts.

She couldn’t even find it in herself to answer before she was nodding her head at him, and stepping inside.

Her eyes trace every inch of the living room, the first room you walk into when you enter. The first thing she notices is that it’s a large apartment, and the second thing is that the living room is filled with all new furniture. A wrap-around couch, a recliner, a woven rug with a coffee table on top of it to smooth out it’s roll. It all looked brand new and expensive. No doubt Satoru’s touch.

Her eyes blink rapidly as she takes it all in, before turning back to Satoru who was waiting at the closed door, enjoying himself while watching her react to it all.

“I- I don’t even know what to say-”

“It’s awesome!” A delighted squeal rings out, followed by racing footsteps, and out of a hallway comes Tsumiki, who runs straight through the living room and into the kitchen.

“Is this our new house!?” Megumi comes running after her, and (y/n) realizes quickly that they’re playing tag.

“It is!” Satoru chirps, only furthering the noisy children’s antics as they sprint back down the hallway they’d just come from.

“Careful!” (y/n) hollers after them, almost as a second thought, as she was preoccupied by processing all of this.

Once the kids were distracted by their game again, she went right back to Satoru, staring at him incredulously, still not believing he’d done all of this. Before she can spew out all of her questions, he begins answering them.

“It has four bedrooms,” He says, as if that was going to be her first line of questioning. “It’s way closer to campus. It's in a safer neighborhood and still in their school district. We can worry about moving their things tomorrow” He continued. “Rent is paid for the next…” He pretends to think about it, running a hand through his hair. “Ten? Twelve years? I can’t remember exactly”

(y/n) blinks owlishly, and Satoru almost doesn’t notice the way she’s staring at him as he continues on with his introduction of the place.

“Got it set up with the landlord last night after you fell asleep on the floor,” He chuckles at the image from the night before. “And I was actually late today because I wanted to pick up the keys”

He stops when his eyes fall back to hers, unsure of what to make of her expression. She wore little to no emotion, besides her wide eyes and parted lips. When he stopped speaking, she found her voice.

“Why did you do all of this?”

It comes out in a whisper, but he’s close enough to her that he hears just fine.

“Why? Well we’re graduating soon, you’ll need somewhere to stay with them, and it cannot be in that terrible neighborhood. No wonder you were gone all the time that place was-”

This time he cuts himself off as she steps closer to him, almost toe to toe. She’s so close that she has to tilt her head back to look up at him properly, and for once Satoru freezes up.

“I didn’t get to say it earlier but I guess you’re even more deserving now,” She says with a bashful smile. “But… thank you”

He nods back at her, the motion shaky as his eyes don’t leave hers. Even hidden behind his sunglasses they’re blown wide from how close she is.

“Yeah- yeah of course,” He replies. “One condition though?”

She hums curiously in response, her eyes flickering over his features.

“No more secrets, alright?” He asks, and she laughs quietly, nodding her head in agreement.

“You’ve got yourself a deal, Gojo Satoru” She says, reaching her hand out to shake on it.

Satoru scoffs, grabbing her hand and pulling her into him, wrapping his arms around her waist with ease. She’d fight him off playfully normally, but today she throws her arms around his neck and hugs him back just as enthusiastically.

Just when she thinks she should step away, she holds on a little tighter. Maybe it’s the smell of warm sugar and pine infecting her senses, or maybe it was the peculiar feeling of her heart skipping a beat, but she held onto him just a little longer than she should have. She thinks she’s needed this for a while, a long while, even.

He doesn’t seem to mind anyways, as he ducks his head down to the crook of her neck and doesn’t loosen his hold on her in the slightest.

“I didn’t deserve this,” She mumbles against the collar of his shirt, closing her eyes as she tries to hold on to the last few seconds of this moment. “You should be upset with me, but… you fixed all of it, for me”

Reluctantly, Satoru pulls away, giving her a signature smile before chuckling.

“Well, ‘course I did, sweetheart” He says through his laugh.

(y/n) doesn’t say anything, but as she looks at him, she hopes he tells her more. Or at least tell her why he’d do all of this, because he hadn’t owed her a thing, and here he was practically giving her the world. Her eyes flicker between his, trying to find some sort of explanation, even hidden behind his shades.

“Satoru…”

She doesn’t get the chance to finish her thought, as two pairs of feet are running towards her again.

Despite the racket they’d been making all this time, she’d almost tuned it out, she realized as she turned to see Megumi and Tsumiki giggling as they made grabby hands at her.

“(y/n)! Come on! We picked out our rooms!” Tsumiki says, grabbing her wrist and forcefully yanking her away from Satoru.

A strangled laugh escapes her as she stumbles over her feet to follow behind her, but she still manages to cast a glance back towards Satoru, who was amused by the sight and waved her off to go spend time with them. ___

After a few hours of detailed guided tours and playing, Megumi and Tsumiki had finally settled down in the new bed that was in the room Megumi claimed for himself. Tsumiki had a new bed in her new room too, but the siblings had decided to have a sleepover, so they were gathered up under fresh covers together while (y/n) bid them goodnight.

“Can we stay here forever?” Tsumiki asked softly, pulling her fluffy purple blanket to her chin.

Perched on the side of the bed as she tucked them in, (y/n) smiled and nodded.

“As long as you wish,” She hums. “You can paint your rooms whatever color you want, and we’ll get your things tomorrow” She tells them.

“And you’re staying here too?” Megumi asks, pulling his own blanket up to his nose to hide his warm face. (y/n) laughed and nodded again.

“I sure am, so you’re gonna have to be on your best behavior all the time,” She teases, poking his nose before pulling his blanket away from his face. “I’m your legal guardian now, which means I can punish you” She sing-songs playfully as she tickles him, much to his dismay. “But tonight I need to go back to my school. I’ll put up a curtain of protection like I always do, and soon I’ll be staying here every night”

“And Gojo will be staying too?” Tsumiki asks.

(y/n) makes a funny face as she chuckles at that, her lips pulled into an awkward half-smile while her brows furrowed.

“Uh- I don’t know about that,” She chuckles. “What makes you think that?”

“There’s an extra room”

“The other room”

Megumi and Tsumiki speak over each other, and (y/n) blinks in surprise, since both of them assumed the same.

“I don’t think so,” She chuckles, shaking her head. “It’s just an extra room” She tries to dismiss it, but neither of them look convinced.

“You guys were standing really close earlier” Megumi mutters, and before (y/n) could be shocked by his observation, Tsumiki is voicing her own opinion.

“He’s very handsome! And he stares at you a lot!”

(y/n’s) jaw is on the floor as she looks between the two children that were far too observant for their age. Since when were they so nosey?

Well, she could recall a few times now that they’d accused her of having a boyfriend, but this was on another level!

“You’re seeing things that aren’t there,” She says, trying to laugh it off, but her face is hot suddenly and she can’t think of a better excuse to give them. “Time for bed”

“So you’re not going to get married and be our parents?” Megumi asks before letting out a big yawn.

“Time for bed” (y/n) repeats, firmly tucking the blanket around his shoulders.

Tsumiki is giggling and Megumi is pouting when she finally leaves them be, flicking off their lights and shutting the door behind her. Once it’s clicked shut, she leans against it and lets out a deep sigh.

“They’ve got active imaginations”

Yelping in surprise, her first instinct is to smack Satoru on his arm, and he’s lucky it wasn’t his face. He seems unbothered by this reaction. In fact, he laughs.

“When are you going to stop sneaking up on me?” She hisses, not wanting to draw the Fushiguro kids’ attention to the hallway.

Satoru follows her as she hastily makes her way to the living room. It’s late enough now that the sun no longer brightens the room, leaving it dimly lit by the light in the hallway.

“You know, if you did ask me to move in, I’d say yes” Satoru’s the first to speak, and (y/n) is spun around by her heel as soon as he does.

His tone is genuine, but he’s still grinning like he’s trying to tease her, so she’s not sure what to make of the comment. Of course, he technically owned the place, so it wouldn’t feel right to argue that he couldn't stay, but then there was the matter of what the kids would think and-

Oh, that cheeky bastard.

“Eavesdropping again?” (y/n) crosses her arms as she tilts her head at him, and Satoru only purses his lips, not even bothering to defend himself. “And here I thought you learned your lesson”

“Me?” He laughs loudly, enough that she makes a face before throwing her arm in a gesture to the hallway.

“It’s late, could you keep it down?” She scolds him again.

“You’re a strict mom, sheesh,” Satoru mutters, and she rolls her eyes at him, but she can’t hide the small smile of pride that creeps up on her lips. “So, you like it all, then?”

Her smile softens as she nods her head back at him.

“It’s wonderful,” She tells him honestly. “I think they’re going to be very happy here”

“Good, good…”

He almost looks awkward, standing before her in the dark room. He’s fiddling with his sunglasses in his hands, the wisps of his hair tickling his eyelashes, and he’s nervous to look at her for too long, but he does anyway.

“And you?” He asks.

The question hangs in the air between them for a moment, as (y/n) assumes it’s obvious that she’s elated with how everything turned out, with how he seemed to snap his fingers and fix it all overnight. He must know that she owes him a debt which she’ll never be able to repay, right? He must know exactly how she feels, because she hasn’t done a thing to conceal it.

But he’s waiting for an answer, she can see it in the way he stops playing with the frames of his sunglasses, how his eyes are focused on her and he doesn’t say a thing until she responds.

Something about the way he seems to nervously await her response makes her soften for him. For the first time in a long time it’s as though her whole body completely relaxes, like she’s able to turn on autopilot again, and let her guard down properly. Her heart beats a little irregularly which is strange but the way it makes her cheeks buzz with the tingling warmth of a blush feels good.

With quick, quiet steps on the tips of her toes she crosses the room to where he’s standing. She’s close enough to him now that the lighting behind him catches on her eyes, seemingly making them glimmer with her fondness.

She stays on the tips of her toes as she leans into him, filling his senses with the sweet smell of her shampoo and something else that he couldn’t name, but was completely unique to her. Just as he’s getting lost in the scent, her lips are planted on his cheek, soft, and much too fleeting.

There’s a shy smile and a flush of color on her face when she drops back to the pads of her feet.

“Honestly, I think this is the happiest I’ve felt in a long time,” She admits quietly, and Satoru has to put effort into focusing on her while she speaks, because his head is in the clouds and he thinks he might float off into them. “I mean… with everything that’s happened these last few months I just… leaving it all behind as long as they were safe didn’t seem so bad. I’d lost enough friends and I…” Her fingers catch on one another as she nervously fiddles. “It doesn’t matter now. But, I hope you know how much this all means to me. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to pay you back”

His face is still stunned from the feeling of her lips on his cheek, but he manages the smallest of smiles at her honesty.

“I don’t need you to pay me back,” He says with a shake of his head. “I just…”

He loses his train of thought as he stares at her, which was an effect she’d always had on him, although tonight it seemed far more potent. Perhaps it was the low orange lighting, softening her pretty features. Or it was how she’d so blatantly kissed him and didn’t think it was out of character to do so. These were probably both true, but he could probably admit now that the shortness of his breath and the swell of his heart were caused by a distinct, paralyzing feeling that he’d always held for her, and only seemed to grow stronger.

In a small movement of curiosity, her head tilts to the side, awaiting the rest of his thought. Admittedly, his staring was starting to make her feel self conscious, but she doesn’t shy away. Instead she keeps her patience and wonders what it is that’s stuck on his tongue.

Satoru’s eyes flicker between hers in a moment of indecisiveness. He knew what he wanted to tell her, because it had been on his mind for months now, maybe even years, and now here she was, standing there, looking like that, and giving him her full attention.

Gojo Satoru chokes.

“I just want you to be happy”

He finally speaks, and (y/n) noticeably brightens before him. Her wide smile makes the corners of her eyes crinkle, and a breathless laugh escapes her lungs.

They linger for a quiet moment, and despite the silence, they’re perfectly comfortable. ___

After locking up and drawing a curtain, Satoru takes her hand and warps them both back to Jujutsu Tech. Together, they sit down with Shoko and explain everything. She’s understandably upset for not being told sooner, but more than anything was happy to know that (y/n) was safe now, and the hiding and lying was over. The three sit on the floor of the common room, Satoru and (y/n) answering all of Shoko’s questions while the girls share a cigarette, and even though it was so late that it was almost morning, none of them grew tired the later their night stretches.

They were too wrapped up in their moment they finally deserved. With friendly but teasing banter, jokes, laughter, reminiscing, and of course a smoke or two. It was just like it used to be, domestic, relaxed. They hadn’t realized this feeling had gradually disappeared from their lives until this moment, hadn’t known they’d been longing for it to return like this.

When Shoko declares she has to go to bed for at least an hour of sleep before a shift at the morgue, (y/n) stands to hug her goodnight, and they stay wrapped in each other’s embrace for some time.

“If you ever lie to me again, I’ll kill you” Shoko mumbles, before pressing her face into the crook between (y/n’s) neck and shoulder.

In return, (y/n) squeezes her even tighter.

With Shoko’s retreat to bed, (y/n) claims that she too needed to get some sleep, and Satoru makes a half-assed joke about how she clearly needs it. The pair walk together back to their dorms, growing more comfortable in their silence the more they find themselves in it. Their steps are slow, and only seem to drag slower the closer they get, but neither of them comment on it.

Instead, when they finally do reach (y/n’s) dorm, just as the sun starts to peek over the horizon and sneak through the windows of the corridor, they still linger in front of her door.

Even after the hours of talking, of going over everything and catching up with one another, there still seemed to be so much unsaid. Still, with the opportunity presented to her, (y/n) remained silent, her hands latched together behind her back as she hoped that Satoru would say it first.

“Try to catch up on some sleep,” He is the first to speak, but it does nothing to ease the growing weight of an indescribable tension in her chest. “We can go tomorrow afternoon to move whatever Tsumiki and Megumi want into the apartment”

“You don’t have to help with that,” She tells him with a shrug. “It won’t be much, and I don’t mind. Not like it’s your responsibility”

He laughs, his smile stretching across his face as he does.

“You don’t get it at all, do you?”

The question is cryptic, but (y/n) bites back a smile as she reads right through the lines. She tilts her chin up challengingly as her hidden smile begins to tug at the corners of her lips. It was rare that she felt like she was one step ahead of him, and she just had to enjoy this opportunity for as long as she could.

“What don’t I get?” She asks, feigning confusion as she stares up at him.

Satoru’s eyes flicker between hers a few times, trying to get a proper read on her, but it’s hard when she’s smiling at him like that, with her undivided attention.

“Have dinner with me tomorrow,” He says, and for a moment, her playful little smile falters, replaced with surprise at the sudden request. “Once we’re done with all the moving stuff”

She blinks at him, a ghost of a smile still on her lips.

“I mean, I was probably going to make dinner for-”

“We’ll get them McDonalds” Satoru shrugs.

(y/n) raises a brow at his quick response, and her heart leaps in her chest at his sudden change in attitude. Was he asking her out? She wasn’t sure if he really was or if he was just being a flirt and this was just like all the other times they’d spent time together one on one.

“Well…” She licks her lips before speaking slowly. “Why wouldn’t we just get McDonalds with them?”

She crosses her arms loosely, an attempt to keep her hands occupied so she doesn’t start nervously fidgeting, but it’s also a defense mechanism.

“I’m not taking you to McDonalds,” Satoru shakes his head, his expression unwavering in its seriousness. “I’m taking you somewhere better than that”

“Better?” (y/n) muses curiously.

“Yeah,” He shrugs one of his shoulders. “Somewhere nice” He says decidedly.

“Nice?”

The corner of her lip betrays her as it begins to curl into a smile, and he notices how she tries to fight it. His confidence skyrockets as he grins, and nods his head back at her.

“Yep,” He answers, popping his lips dramatically. “So it’s a date”

(y/n’s) relaxed facade crumbles in an instant, her eyes rounding and her jaw dropping before she could pull herself together and keep up with the smooth act.

“A date?”

“Are you going to keep copying me?” Satoru chuckles, but he drops the subject too quickly for her liking. “It’ll be fun. We both deserve to have some fun, right?” He asks her, and she can only manage to awkwardly nod her head from side to side in agreement. “Great. I’ll see you tomorrow then”

“Okay” Is all the more (y/n’s) able to come up with, and Satoru smiles to himself, proud of his own work.

“Goodnight sweetheart” He gives a small wave as he spins on his heel to head to his own dorm.

“Goodnight” She calls to him.

Although the sun’s rays are peeking through her curtains, when (y/n’s) head hits her pillow, she drifts right off into a peaceful sleep. It’s the best night of sleep she’s had in a long while. Her dreams are filled with peaceful, colorful images. She wakes feeling well rested, and ready for whatever her coming days will have in store for her.

Soon she would graduate, along with her two best friends, and the world would be all theirs to navigate and experience. She wasn’t sure how difficult it would be to raise Tsumiki and Megumi full time, but she was eager to learn. Similarly, she wasn’t sure where this odd, warm feeling with Satoru would take her, but she was equally curious to explore it.

Despite all the heartache that this year had brought her, she felt content with where she was now. Her view on what was to come is optimistic. Her heart is full. And the people she loved were safe.

___

fin.

taglist: @whats-humanity-lol @malinq-ashida @mor-pheus@bekahtaylorgriggs@pookiea@megumimind@thealchemical@pearlstiare@niallerhere@96jnie @purpleguk @peqch-pie@yukinemaroop@makis-girl@sadtoru @kamikokii @nerdiel-has-no-braincells @googlesheetshoe @vzleria @hilzup @cole-silas @iam-mia9 @stxrrielle @ezrahour @whatamidoing89 @idioseasworld @yuuuumii @l0diluvs @miffysoo @chibiizzy��

xoxo ~ jordie

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru imagine #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru fanfiction #satoru gojo fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction

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dumbslvtforethan · 1 year ago

Text

𝜗𝜚 that could've been just another silent night. ethan landry

-- Summary: after your boyfriend Chad doesn’t fulfill your desires Ethan makes sure he will

warnings smut!, a little bit of fluff, dirty talking. 1,231 words

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𐙚 mdni!! ↓↓ 𐙚༘⋆ೀೀ

IT WAS RAINING , you were chatting on the phone with your boyfriend, chad, which is also your roommate. The rain noises filled up the whole room.

Your phone rang “unknown number” it said. You picked it up, not knowing what to expect. “Hey sweetheart” the velvety voice said. “Hi?… who are you??” You said, getting up from my bed slowly.

“I’m just the guy who will fuck you until you can’t walk” he said, you could feel the smirk in his voice “what?” You said confused and curious to see what was behind that misterious voice. “Stop joking” you said, after the 2 long minutes of silence.

“Oh no sweet dumb thing” he said “I’m being completely serious.” He continued. “Once I see that pretty pink pussy of yours I will rip it apart.” He said as you hung up. You were terrified, but honestly kinda horny. I mean, you loved chad, you really did. But he never teased you like that, whenever you had sex he would always be so dry and emotionless about it, sure there was moans and groans but he never said anything during it. And honestly dirty talking was one of your biggest kinks.

As you walked around your room, you noticed an unfamiliar presence you hadn’t noticed before, that white mask and black robe starring in the dark corner. You froze, he was approaching you, slowly but aggressively. “Hey sweetheart” he said, uncomfortably too close to your face. He pulled his mask, revealing the shy dork, Ethan, also chads best friend. You always found Ethan cute and attractive, previously having fantasies about this dark side of him, but you never imagined that one day he would be saying something about ripping your pussy apart in a ghostface costume.

“Ethan?” You said, extremely confused but also excited. “Shh sweetie we don’t want your boyfriend to find out that you’re fucking his best friend do we?” He said, taking his costume off. “Now, be a good girl and lay down with me huh?” He said, now with gray sweatpants and a hoodie.

You layed down with him, you were hugging him from the front and he did the same, we were admiring each other with the dim light of your room that covered our faces.

He put his hands on your cheek and turned off the lights completely on the other. Even knowing he was a killer and your boyfriend’s best friend, you felt safe in some weird way. Like he would protect you if someone barged into your room like he did.

After a few hours , which felt like a few seconds i fell asleep in his arms. When you woke up Ethan wasn’t there. You were confused, didn’t he say he was going to fuck you? You were so tired that you thought it was some dream or fantasy that the alcohol from the frat party you’ve been the night before created, you didn’t want to believe it was real.

The truth was that Ethan’s intentions were exactly as he said. Ethan was actually supposed to kill you according to the instructions of his dad. He couldn’t kill you, but he had to. After his dad ordered him to kill you, he felt angry and sad at the same time, he wanted to relieve his emotions by fulfilling his sexual desires and fantasies about you. But when he saw your pretty face, he completely melted.

This unexpected encounter has been happening every night for a week by now, and surprisingly, you became closer to Ethan, you would tell him about your day, and you two always ended up hugging each other and cuddling until you fell asleep. On the other hand, you hadn’t been paying that much attention to your boyfriend, whenever he would ask something you’d always be distracted thinking of the night before. He started to notice this behavior from you, and became extremely annoyed, you two had a huge fight that day, you loved Chad but he wasn’t fulfilling your desires, he wasn’t making you happy, he wasn’t giving the sensations Ethan gave you, he wasn’t Ethan.

As always, that night Ethan climbed through your window and noticed you curled up crying on your bed. “What happened sweetheart?” He said sitting on your bed and putting his hand on your back “me and Chad had a huge fight.” You said, still sobbing. Ethan was filled with rage, he couldn’t believe Chad would hurt his girl like that. “Why? Did he hurt you?” He said, very concerned. “I can’t believe I’m saying this but-“ you said facing him “he isn’t you, he doesn’t care for me like you do, I think I love you ethan.” Ethan’s rage turned into happiness “you don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to hear those words.” He said, grabbing you into a kiss. Ethan’s lips were soft and gentle a touch you wouldn’t have expected from a ghostface “you want me to fuck you so hard that you forget about him don’t you good girl?” He said, breathing heavily as he made out with you, you could only nod.

He threw you on the bed, taking off your shirt and sweat pants only leaving you with your black lace bra and matching panties. “So pretty just for me” he said as he admired you. He took off your bra next, you whimpered feeling your nipples hardening with the cold breeze that filled your room. The gaze of your bare breasts made his mouth water. He took one of your breasts in his mouth and started licking and sucking on it. You moaned at the feeling. You bit your lips, this was better than your fantasies. “I wanna feel your insides so badly” he said as he took your swollen and wet breast out of his mouth. His words sent chills down your pussy. he took out your panties and started to rub your clit roughly you moaned his name at the feeling.

He pounded his huge cock into you, making you moan “fuck you’re so tight” he said, in between groans. you pant, eyes scrunched shut in pleasure, your orgasm building quickly. you turn to hide your face from him, burying yourself into the mattress.

“Don’t fucking look away from me” he said grabbing your chin to face him. “I wanna see your pretty face” he said in between groans, breathing heavily.

You were reaching your climax, you almost forgot that Chad was your roommate and could barge in your room at any minute. You didn’t even care, you were already moaning so loudly that probably the whole neighborhood was hearing you.

“M-m’cumming! m- my g-god” you moaned “cum on my pretty cock princess” with his words you drenched his dick with your pussy juices. “Fuck you’re so pretty” he said. You switched positions so that you were on top of him. “Now is my turn to take care of you” you said taking his full length into your mouth. You could taste your insides in his dick. Shortly after that he released himself into your mouth. “Such a good girl for me.”

@jchampionsgf - on tumblr

a/n: wrote this months ago and honestly dk how to feel abt it

#ethan landry smut #horror #ethan landry #jack champion #fanfic #scream #loren campbell #scream 6 #scream franchise #scream iv

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mynameismanze-blog · 1 month ago

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Warnings: Smut, p in v, making out, blood, almost dying, cussing.

Black Sheep

After it was revealed that Ethan was the second killer, my heart sank. But not only was that revealed, but Ethan was also Richies, younger brother. I killed Richie out of self defense but they weren't having it. Apart with having 22 stab wounds all on his body.

As we kept going back and forth between the aisles of collectables, we came to a hault between one of the aisles. Ethan was front watch and Quinn was in the back. As Detective Kirsch was watching the video Richie made from God knows when, Ethan was locking eyes with me. I look in his eyes and I once in a while look over at Detective Kirsch.

"There's a very special bond between a father and his first son."

I notice Ethans shift in his demeanor. He looks sad and defeated, along with a little bit of anger? I notice it and I look into his eyes again. Ethan changes to his tough exterior and I raise a brow slightly.

"You too huh?" I ask in a low voice. Quinn and Detective Kirsch shift their gaze to me and I continue to look at Ethan for a response.

"What?" Ethan shakes his head and he smirks a little, then he replied with annoyance. "What are you on about?"

"When he said there's a special bond. Your face-" I get cut off by a cut to my arm by Ethans knife. "You don't know what you're talking about!" There it was my way out of this situation. I hold my arm trying to slow the bleeding.

"I think you do Ethan." I say with my expression hardening and I lock eyes with him. "What are you really doing this for? Validation? Aknowledgement?" Detective Kirsch steps closer and I don't leave my eyes from Ethan. My expression is serious and but my heart flutters for Ethan. You see I've always liked Ethan, I just never told him mainly because I didn't want to get rejected.

"Ethan-"

"Shut up! You're not my fucking therapist!" I inhale deeply as he's on the verge of a serious rage. I swallow and I blurt out. "Ethan this probably won't make a difference but I have to get this off my chest."

There's a moment of silence before I speak up again. "I like you ethan. I did at the beginning of the year. That probably won't make a difference right now because I'll be dead but let me tell you something I had to learn on my own. Being a people pleaser, or something you're not takes a toll on you. It makes you not recognize yourself and you do things to make other people happy. This may not be the case or maybe it is. You don't have to be something you're not with me. I know all too well because I was once you too. I thought I had to impress people just to get them to like me."

Detective Kirsch steps forward and pushes Ethan aside. Ethan almost loses his balance and stumbles a bit. Detective Kirsch grabs me by the collar and pulls me towards him.

"Who the hell do you think you are?"

I quickly headbutt Detective Kirsch and he falls to the ground. I back kick Quinn hard and my foot lands on her boobs. She falls to the ground as well. Snapping my gaze to Ethan and I quickly go over the aisle of evidence. Ethan stands there conflicted but he eventually runs after me. I quickly go up the ladder and I make it to the top. Heading through two double doors there's a staircase leading up. Quickly making my way up the stairs to the top.

I push through the only door that was up there and looking around I'm obviously at the rooftop. Quickly thinking on my feet I run along the edge to see if there's a fire exit. When I finally found the staircase, I start to make my way down with one foot on the step. “Stop right there!” A sharp and loud voice can be heard. I turn around and it's Ethan he's still holding his knife. He quickly barricades the door with junk from around the corner.

I get off the fire exit and I jog towards him. “How long do we have?” I say breathlessly to Ethan.

“Five minutes or less. I missed you.” I quickly kiss him and insert my tongue in his mouth. I run my fingers through his hair and pull him closer to deepen the kiss. Ethans hands slide to my butt and I he reluctantly pulls away. “Baby. We have to make the scene.” I nod gently and I place my forehead on his.

“I know, I'm just nervous.” Ethan takes one hand and places it gently on my cheek. “Don't be okay? I'll be there to get you when you wake up. We went over the plan several times.” I give a small nod and I peck his lips. Ethan reaches in his pant pocket and hands me a syringe. He hands me a bottle of fake blood and I head down the fire exit.

I make my way to the side walk and I go in the dark alley that's next to the building. Pouring the fake blood quickly and covering my body. I pour the remaining on the ground and I take it the syringe. Quickly putting the syringe in my vein and I toss it in the dumpster. It's supposed to slow my heart rate down, enough to presume me as dead.

Lying on the ground face forward, my heart rate slows and I close my eyes.

Waking up it's dark. The zipper was the only thing shedding the fluorescent light. Listening to see if there was anyone nearby. When I felt like the coast was clear I dig my finger into the opening of the body bag. The ribbs of the zipper was rubbing against my finger and I quickly open it up.

Looking around and sitting up on the table. I get out the body bag and I'm covered in blood. Slowly watching my step I take a peek out the hallway and look for any employees. There's a few but they're talking to each other. I notice a window on the other side of the room and there's a book self parallel to the window. So it's perfect it'll hide me while I sneak out.

Peeking again to see if the employees are still in their conversation. One of them walks away and waves bye. And the other looks at the file on the counter.

I run across quickly and I press myself against my window. Unlocking the window quickly and I slide it open. I get out quickly and I hear loud footsteps approaching me. Looking down from the window was a dumpster. It was black and it looked like nothing was in the dumpster. “Hey! What are you doing?!” I jump and don't look back, there was so much trash it was disgusting.

Ethan was waiting in his car around the corner and I walk down the sidewalk. I spot his car and I quickly approach it, I open the passenger door. “Oh my god. What happened?” I tap the dash signaling him to leave. “Let's go Ethan!” I look back as he takes off and he heads down the road.

After settling in at the motel. I take a hot shower to wash the blood and garbage smell off of me. Sure it was illegal to do what I did but I had my reasons. Ethan told me about it before it went down. We confessed that we liked each other a long time ago. Way before the murders. It still didn't faze me, I knew who Ethan was. The real Ethan, not the pretend person he tries to be for his father. He felt the same way for me and Ethan told me about the ambush before it happened. Ethan didn't want me to die so we got a good plan and executed it. I fell in love with him hard and fast, there's just something about him that drives me absolutely crazy. I would do anything for him. Even kill.

Exiting the shower I have the towel wrapped around me. I step into the cold room and Ethan turns around. “I got you some clothes love. We have four hours until our flight leaves. So we have time to kill.” He fails to hide his smirk and I chuckle lightly. I take the clothes and I get dressed in front of him. Ethan comes near me and he towers over me. “But of course, I do want to blow off some steam.” Ethan doesn't exactly say he wants to have sex he kind of shows it with his touch.

Suddenly I was right, his hands drop to my ass. We look into our eyes and Ethan immediately takes off the towel. It falls on the floor. Ethan gently guides me and places me on the bed. “You were so brave today baby.” Ethan praises as his hands roam over my body. I bite my lip and I look in his eyes.

He makes his way to my clit and he starts to rub it in slow circles. He exhaled and groaned as he watched me squirm underneath him. Ethan holds me in place and looks into my eyes. “You were such a good girl today. It's only fair I repay you.”

He unbuttons his pants and pulls them down along with his boxers. Ethan takes his base and rubs it along my slit. I moan softly then I grip bedsheets. Before I can beg for him to stop teasing he pushes himself into me. Gasping for air and I adjust to his size. “Oh fuck. You're so fucking tight.” Ethan leans down over me and he starts to thrust in me at a slow pace. I run my fingers through his curly hair and I pull on his hair a bit.

“Ethan. Harder baby.” I say with a moan on my lips, looking into his eyes deeply and hungrily. He picks up the pace and the room fills with our skin slapping together. My eyes roll back and my back arches off the mattress. “Oh fuck! Ethan don't stop baby!” I say while reaching down and rubbing my clit fast in a circular motion. He smiles and locks eyes with me, his hips snap harder and faster. “I could do this all day baby girl.” The creak of the bed can be heard underneath us, the room was filled with our moans and skin slapping together.

We're both a moaning mess, Ethan was close because he always does his signature move. He always raises my right leg and hooks it on his shoulder. Ethan gets close to me and his skin was covered in a thin layer of sweat. “You're close huh?” I say with a smile and look in his beautiful dark brown eyes. He nods quickly in response and I rub my clit faster. “I'm getting close Ethan.”

After a few more thrusts I came first. My body pulses and my legs shake around Ethan. Several moans escape my mouth and Ethan chases his own release. “Oh fuck y/n I'm going to come!” Ethan says uncontrollably. I love when he loses control like this. The feeling is powerful and sexy, it makes sense. He spills into me and his thrusts get slower and slower with each thrust. Eventually he comes to a stop, Ethan falls on top of me slowly. He buried his face into my neck and inhales deeply to steady his heart rate.

A few minutes pass and Ethan is laying on my stomach. I'm playing with his curls and staring into space. He picks his head up and looks up at me. “Do you love me?” My gaze snaps at the question and I look at him a little surprised. “Uhh.” Is literally all I could get out. Of course I love him. Once again I'm just not very good at showing it. Well, saying it.

I hold his chin and I look in his eyes seriously. “I do love you Ethan.” His response was a chuckle and a head shake. “Why are you so damn serious? It's a simple question. Not a Econ question” I burst out laughing and he does too.

We end the night running away together to another state. In love. Madly in love.

A/N: I feel like Ethan is the black sheep of the family. Hear me out, as a black sheep from experience, it's not hard to see how your parent only cares if you impress them. I feel like he was pressured or heavily convinced into getting revenge. Go back to this scene and really pay attention. Watch his expression and body language.

#ethan landry #jack champion #scream six #scream #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry smut #ghostface #ghostface smut #scream x reader #killer x reader #ethan landry x reader #smutty fanfiction #jack champion smut #ethan landry fanfiction

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ihavemanyhusbands · 1 month ago

Text

The Assassin's Apprentice

PART TWO: FATE IS A CRUEL TRICKSTER

Part One // Mini-Series Masterlist

Also on AO3

Pairing: Duncan Vizla x Fem!Reader

WC: 5.0k words

Summary: Duncan decides to start teaching you how to defend yourself, and tensions begin to rise as you get to know each other more.

Chapter Warnings: reluctant allies to lovers, mutual pining, slight power imbalance (mentor/mentee), age gap (reader is mid 20s), shooting lessons, smoking, brief and vague mentions of violence, sooo much tension, very light inebriation, angst ending, aaaand i think thats it but lmk if anything else!

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

“Can I get you anything else, honey?” The waitress asked as she set down a plate of pancakes in front of you.

“Just a top-up of coffee, please,” you said, smiling at her appreciatively.

As she poured, you involuntarily glanced at Duncan before looking down. There must’ve been something in your expression that misled her because she grinned slyly and raised an eyebrow at you suggestively.

“You two have a long night?” She asked.

You blinked at her in surprise, immediately wishing you’d sink into the sticky vinyl booth and disappear. Your smile turned into an awkward baring of teeth, especially as the tip of Duncan’s boot nudged yours.

“Just got up early is all…” you mumbled, trying to subtly kick him back.

She chuckled, misinterpreting your reaction yet again, and turned to Duncan.

“And what about you, sugar? Need a top-up, too?”

“Sure,” he said, seemingly nonplussed by her teasing. “Keep it coming.”

She winked at him conspiratorially and let out another delighted chuckle. Now you wanted to jump across the table and throttle him, but you held onto your self-control by your fingernails.

“Alright, well, I’ll leave you to it now. Just holler if you need anything else.”

With that, she left, completely ignorant of the tension that remained in her wake. You sliced at your pancake with a vengeance, unwilling to look up at him but sensing he was observing you.

“What?” You snapped after a minute, setting your cutlery down.

“Nothing,” he said, methodically spreading butter on his toast. “Just confirming you’re not very good at hiding your emotions, is all. Gonna need to work on that.”

You gaped at him. “So you were intentionally provoking me?”

He shrugged one shoulder as he took a sip of coffee holding your gaze. You narrowed your eyes at him, your pride instinctually making you want to lash out. It was true that in a lot of ways you had your heart on your sleeve, so even if you didn’t want to admit it, he had a point. It was just a little strange that patience was the first lesson he seemed to want to impart.

Perhaps that was one of the reasons he had thus far been so uncooperative – a lesson in and of itself. You drummed your fingers on the table as you thought, and in that introspection, you gave him no reaction at all.

“That’s better,” he said, bringing your attention back to him. “I’m more observant than you may think. My silence allows for it.”

“And what else have you figured out about me, hmm?” You said, a challenge edging your tone. “How tough am I going to be to break into the perfect, stoic killer?”

He huffed in amusement. “I would say that’s more dependent on you.”

You leaned forward slightly, not backing down. “What? You’re not going to try to mold me in your image?”

He looked away then. “Far from it.”

A thought struck you then and you stopped drumming your fingers. You didn’t even want to mention it, but at that point, curiosity had sunk its claws into you. Still, you leaned back and took a bite of your food, letting the silence hang for a moment longer.

“So, last night… Was that some sort of lesson, too?” You asked, trying to sound casual. “Maybe about pride or something?”

He shook his head, spearing some egg with his fork but making no effort to actually eat it.

“No, that was just us doing the best with what we had then. Sometimes that’s all you can do.”

You nodded, contemplating this. The rest of the meal went by in silence, both of you unsure of what else to say. He had put things in a strangely tender light, somehow, but neither of you could acknowledge it. You snuck furtive glances at him, thinking for the first time that perhaps you’d made the right choice staying with him. It was nice to be surprised from time to time, and things finally seemed to be moving in the right direction in terms of your training.

Once you were done, Duncan went up to the counter to pay. The waitress said something to him that you couldn’t hear, but you saw a small smile on his face. She waved at you with a smile and you tried to wave back as naturally as possible, your polite smile watery at best.

He ushered you out of the diner’s warmth and into the crisp autumn morning, your breath lightly fogging in the air. He lit a cigarette on his way to the truck, fishing his keys from his pocket.

“Where are we headed now?” You asked, hoping to get an answer of some sort.

“We’ve got a couple of hours before we have to move out, so I’m going to take you somewhere quiet for some target practice,” he said.

“Are you the target?” You asked, half-joking.

He shot you a look that was both reprimanding and amused as he opened his door. “I didn’t say who would be practicing, did I?”

You hummed as if to say touché, opening your own and sliding into the passenger seat without any more protest.

—-------------

Duncan lined up what he could find on a log a few yards away from you — pieces of a broken glass bottle, a bent tin can, a couple of acorns, and what seemed to be the remnants of a boot.

He walked back over to your side and made sure the angle and distance were just right. Given the mountainous area, you were on a very slight incline, surrounded by nothing but clusters of tall pine trees. There was almost no wind, so it was quieter than you’d expected, but not unnervingly so.

He handed you the pistol he’d demonstrated how to load earlier and you tested its heft in your hands, even going so far as to pantomime drawing it out of a holster and pointing. He stepped behind you, assessing your posture.

“Alright, little bit of a wider stance,” he said, nudging your feet further apart with his boot. You tensed as he put his hands on your arms, adjusting you slightly. “Great, shoulders squared. And keep both hands on it for now, too.”

Raising your arms once more, you aimed it at the largest object on the log first – the worn-out boot. You slowed down your breathing, steadying yourself so your arms wouldn’t tremble. You were more nervous about the loudness of the shot rather than the actual weapon, but you had to get used to it eventually. On an exhale, you gritted your teeth and squeezed the trigger.

Crows exploded into the air from the surrounding trees at the resounding shot, their alarmed calls mingling with its distant echo. The boot had been knocked backward, falling behind the log. You let out an elated little laugh at actually having made it, finding yourself looking back at him for his approval.

“Good one,” he said, smiling. “Nice and easy, right?”

“Well, this one, sure,” you said. “Can’t say if I’ll make it as a sniper later on, but it’s a start…”

He chuckled. “One step at a time. Why don’t you try it again?”

This time, when he adjusted your posture once again, you welcomed it. Still, you were very aware of it – the slight touch of his fingers on your elbow to raise your arms a little more, his other hand covering one of yours to correct your grip. Your body lost some of its initial tension, even as he hovered close, whispering pointers as you focused on your aim.

After a couple more shots, your ears were ringing, but you went towards the log to see how you’d done. Splintered bullet holes in some of the tree trunks showed where you’d missed, but at least you’d managed to get one of the acorns and the side of the tin can.

“We’ll keep working on it, but not bad at all,” he said, seemingly impressed. “How do you feel?”

“Like I could move on to moving targets next,” you said, raising both eyebrows, and the two of you laughed at the insinuation.

Returning to his side, you tried to hand the pistol back to him but he shook his head.

“Keep it, it’s yours,” he said. “You’re gonna need it going forward.”

“Thank you,” you said with a slightly surprised grin. “Not the kind of gift any regular girl would expect to receive… But I’m not complaining.”

“Well, clearly you’re not just any regular girl.”

He held your gaze for a strangely charged moment, the weight of his words slowly sinking in. You looked away first, your smile lingering just faintly. You were sure he didn’t really mean anything by it, but it still managed to have an effect on you. Whatever unnameable emotion tried to rise from it, though, you immediately tamped down.

He cleared his throat as if to dispel the new sort of tension that precariously hung between you, the moment vanishing into thin air.

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile this much,” he said, changing the subject.

“Yeah, well, now I’m being given reasons to,” you said, making sure the safety was on before tucking the pistol in your jacket pocket for the time being. “Maybe it’s the spike in adrenaline.”

“Guess I’ll have to find more ways to keep you busy like this, then.”

You shifted your weight, needing to ask the question you’d been wondering all morning.

“What, um, made you change your mind?”

He hummed in thought, gazing out at your surroundings as if trying to save the quiet beauty of the forest in his mind. Then, he nodded in the direction of the truck and the two of you hiked back down the hill side by side.

“In terms of your training?” He asked and you nodded. “Well, I figured I had to make sure you knew how to defend yourself, at least.”

“I know how to defend myself,” you argued with a scoff, which made him raise an eyebrow.

“In some ways, sure,” he said, huffing with amusement. “If it was just an argument, you’d have that in the bag.”

You pursed your lips, conscious of your earlier conversation about being so blatant with your emotions. You realized he probably ribbed you so often for a reason, and you couldn’t just let him get the best of you so easily. He was far more patient than you were giving him credit for, too, taking your attitude and your habitual biting words with grace.

It was still too early to tell, but maybe he wouldn’t be as bad of a teacher as you — or maybe even him — might have originally thought. You kicked a small stone in your path, watching it roll down ahead of you.

“Well, what if I don’t have a gun, then? Or any other weapon?” You said.

“We’ll get to hand-to-hand combat at some point,” he said. “But for now, we’ve got some work to do.”

—————-

Only an hour after Duncan’s assignment had been carried out, both of you sat in his truck eating fast food. You’d gotten a vanilla milkshake that you occasionally dipped a fry into, which was not a treat you indulged in too often — at least not since you were a kid. The mood was celebratory, though, given how well things had gone with your “test drive”, as he had put it.

The whole affair had gone by relatively quickly – Duncan had you stand outside the room to make sure no one came around while he conducted business. You’d been so nervous that you felt as if your heart was trying to crawl up your throat, rehearsing excuses in your mind while you tried your best to blend in. To your immense luck, though, the hallway stayed empty.

The sounds of a scuffle only lasted a couple of minutes, but then there was a silence that seemed to stretch on for much longer. When Duncan finally emerged from the room, he ushered you down the back stairwell, taking off the bloodied maintenance uniform he’d stolen on the way. He was wearing his regular clothes underneath, prepared for a quick escape, and he discarded the uniform in a back alley dumpster after making sure there were no witnesses.

Adrenaline had you lightheaded and kind of giddy as you hurried back to his truck, finally being a little more involved in an assignment. Usually, he had you do stakeouts, which were by far your least favorite, but now you understood why.

He still insisted that you were not ready for the rest of the work yet, which you could agree with, but it was nice to be a part of it anyway. So much so that you were already eager for the next time, even if you weren’t sure when that would be.

“So… where are we headed now?” You asked, turning down the radio.

“Well, we’ve got nothing on the docket for now,” he said, sipping on his drink. “I was thinking we could drive back to Triple Oak in the meantime, and train you some more while we have the time.”

You nodded, trying not to seem too overeager, and leaned back against the seat. “It’ll be nice to be off the road for a bit.”

“You might want to change and get rid of that before we cross state lines, though,” he said, gesturing at your clothes.

You were still wearing the cleaning staff uniform you’d stolen from the hotel the target had been staying at, but you were wearing his jacket over it to hide most of it. The jacket smelled like him – smoke, gunpowder, and an aftershave with bitter notes. Was it strange that you felt a little comforted by it?

“I’ll do it in the back seat, but don’t you dare look,” you said, pointing at him menacingly. “I’ll gouge your eyes out if you do.”

He huffed a laugh, waving you off. You climbed into the backseat and rifled through your bag to try and change quickly. Mostly, he kept his gaze ahead on the parking lot trying and failing to concentrate on whatever song the radio was playing. Involuntarily, he glanced at the rearview mirror, catching the barest glimpse of skin before he quickly looked away.

He swallowed hard, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. He had definitely felt a shift in your dynamic after that night, like you were starting to become a team, rather than keeping each other at arm's length. It was a good thing, to be sure, but he feared getting too accustomed to it.

What’s more, he worried about your safety more and more. It was the real reason why he had suddenly decided to take action, so he wasn’t exactly lying about you needing to know how to defend yourself. He tried not to think of you being out in the field all by yourself, but luckily there was still time before that happened.

How he would fare after you were gone, well, that was a problem for him to figure out later on. In the meantime, he would have to untangle the mess of what he was beginning to feel towards you… If he allowed himself to feel it in the first place.

You climbed back into the front seat, bringing him back from his thoughts. You’d left his jacket in the back, unsure if you should put it back on and deciding not to. Before you had a reason to, but now it would seem too… intimate, in a way.

“Long drive ahead of us,” he said, starting the truck. “You ready?”

You nodded and soon enough you were back on the road. You stayed up to keep him company for as long as you could, but as soon as the sky began to lighten, you were unable to keep yourself from drifting off.

In your deeply unconscious state, you did not realize your body slowly slumping sideways. He glanced over at you in surprise when you leaned against his side, head on his shoulder. He didn’t try to rouse you, though, knowing you needed the rest. He felt an unexpected rush of warmth but kept himself from wrapping his arm around you.

You slept for a few more hours before you stopped at another motel so he could rest for some time. After that, the rest of the drive went by smoothly, the beautiful, ever-changing scenery making time pass by faster.

In those long hours, you swapped stories and got to know each other better. It was surprisingly nice to talk about things that weren’t related to your line of work, but it also made you realize it was the most you’d actually shared since you’d met.

There were moments where a part of you wished you’d met in different circumstances, staying together for reasons other than duty. When he laughed, uninhibited by his usual worries, and sunlight hit him just right… Sometimes it was easy to forget the rest, if only for a second.

Finally, up in the mountains of Montana, the truck pulled up in front of an old, mostly isolated cabin. Getting out of the truck, you stretched your whole body like a languorous cat and took in your surroundings.

You breathed in the fresh air and felt revitalized by it. A little slice of paradise, perfect for some well-deserved unwinding. Not to mention, ample space for you to explore and hone your skills.

“Well, it’s not exactly the Ritz-Carlton, but…” you trailed off, feigning being unimpressed as you crossed your arms over your chest.

You looked back to see his reaction, unable to help a snicker as he shook his head, rolling his eyes playfully.

“Close enough, though,” you finished saying.

In response, he tossed you his key and nodded toward the front door.

“Why don’t you go ahead, princess?” He said pointedly. “Take a look inside and I’ll bring our stuff in a minute.”

“Eugh, don’t call me that,” you said, shuddering unpleasantly and wrinkling your nose at him.

“What should I call you then?”

You shrugged, making your way up the front steps. “I don’t know, but I’m sure you can come up with something more creative.”

He hummed, pretending to think for a moment. The word brat was the first thing to come to mind, but instead of saying it out loud, he let his sly grin communicate it instead.

You scoffed, more amused than irritated, and turned to open the front door. The inside wasn’t much more impressive than the outside, but you immediately loved the quaint, rustic feel of it. Since Duncan hadn’t been back for a while, the place was definitely in need of some dusting and livening up, but you could see its potential. What thrilled you the most was the fireplace, which would certainly make things cozier.

You smiled. You didn’t actually need anything fancy, just a place you could call home. Somehow, you felt like this would be as close as you would get to it.

You took the liberty of opening the windows to let air circulate throughout and went to the kitchen. You rummaged through his cupboards to see how much you’d have to stock up on and found some oatmeal, a couple of cans of beans and tomato soup, and a half-empty bottle of whiskey.

The latter made you perk up with renewed interest, taking it out as you heard his heavy footfalls cross the threshold.

“Look what I found,” you said in a slightly sing-song voice, raising the bottle to show him. “We could have our own housewarming party.”

“I’m not so sure if that’s a good idea,” he said, setting your bags down by the old couch.

“Oh come on, at least one drink won’t kill us,” you said. “And not to mention, we totally deserve it.”

He hesitated for another moment, still resistant, but then you wagged your eyebrows at him comically and he had no choice but to give in.

“Fine, one drink it is,” he said, sighing dramatically as he went to retrieve some glasses.

He handed you one and took the bottle from you, uncorking it with his teeth. He poured less than a finger for both of you and you clinked your glass against his in a toast. The amber liquid burned unpleasantly down your throat, making your eyes water. You tried your best not to cough, repeatedly clearing your throat as you grimaced.

“Oh, that’s disgusting,” you said hoarsely, but still you raised your glass again. “Give me some more.”

He laughed at your reaction, already used to the sting. “We said one drink.”

“That hardly counted as a drink, it was more of a sip,” you argued, beginning to feel a little warmth spread through your limbs. “Didn’t think you were stingy like that.”

He scoffed and poured more generously this time. “Is that enough for you, huh?”

And so time slowly began to lose meaning as the two of you finally began to relax. A second drink turned to a third, but that seemed to be enough to get both of you loose-limbed and giggly. You half-heartedly attempted to unpack and set up a bed for yourself on the couch. Duncan swayed and almost took down a lamp with him, both of you dissolving into a fit of laughter.

Night fell and he started a fire in the hearth that you two sat in front of. You shared a can of tomato soup and a few more sips of whiskey, your knees touching casually. His jacket found its way back to your shoulders, his smell a welcome comfort.

“Has anybody ever told you that you’re cute when you’re drunk?” he said, shining eyes scanning your face. “Your whole face is flushed and your eyes are barely open from how much you’ve been laughing.”

Your face felt even hotter under his notice, but you tried to roll your eyes dismissively.

“I’m cute all the time, but maybe you’re just noticing,” you said.

“No, I’ve always noticed,” he said without a hint of hesitation.

Even when you looked over at him with surprise, he didn’t look remorseful. There was a fuzzy feeling in your chest and things came into sharper focus. You swallowed hard and looked down with an unsure chuckle.

“Feeling bold, are you?”

“Had enough liquid courage,” he said, shifting nervously. “I don't… mean anything by it, though. Was that creepy?”

You shook your head, unable to look at him. “I’m just not used to being complimented by you is all.”

And I’m liking your attention more than I’d want to admit. The thought came to your mind unbidden, but you couldn’t ignore the truth behind it. You liked him, but you weren’t sure if there was much that could be done about it. Well, perhaps there was one thing, but you didn’t know if you could bring yourself to do it yet.

He bumped his shoulder against yours and you finally looked up at him. Your eyes darted down to his lips before returning to meet his gaze. This stirred something deep within him. How had he not noticed? Or perhaps he just hadn’t dared to see what was right in front of him.

“Oh,” he said, voice low. “Is that what you want?”

You nodded, the longing in your gaze undeniable. “Can I?”

He dipped his chin in assent and didn’t move, silently letting you take the lead. You leaned closer to him, eyes dropping back to his lips nervously. You tilted your head slightly to one side and your lips touched his, lingering for a moment, before you pulled away uncertainly.

He still didn’t move other than to nod in reassurance. You brought a hand to his cheek and kissed him again, less hesitant than before. You kept it slow, in no rush to try and deepen the kiss lest the spell be broken. His fingers brushed your arm as he kissed you back, nearly letting himself get lost in it.

But there was a nagging thought in his mind that went against his wishes. It felt right, but that didn’t mean that it was. He was your mentor, after all, and he wasn’t supposed to be anything else but that, as much as he might want to.

He also knew you weren’t meant to stay for a long time, and you both had to be prepared for that. At least now he knew what it felt like to kiss you, but that was about as much as he would let himself indulge.

He pulled away and took a long look at you, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I don’t think we should be doing this,” he said softly. “It’s not…”

“Appropriate?” You offered.

He nodded and you felt a flush of shame that made your skin prickle. Your want had eclipsed everything else, and you hadn’t really considered the implications, much less the consequences.

You pulled further away from him, the familiar poisonous words that you used to protect yourself rising to the surface. But you found that burning tears threatened to spill out, too, but you kept both of them at bay as you tried to stand up.

“U-um,” You stuttered. “I’m-I’m sorry, it was just the whiskey and I-”

“It’s okay,” he cut in, grabbing your hand before you could walk away. “I wanted it, too.”

You looked down at him, at the earnestness — and was that sadness? — on his face. It made it worse, especially since a part of you knew he was right. You nodded, unsure of how to respond to that, and took your hand away from his grasp.

“We should just sleep it off,” you said softly. “Who knows? Maybe tomorrow we won’t even remember.”

But you would, you knew you would, and you were sure he would too. You could just hope that the remaining time you had with him was not too torturous.

-------

#duncan vizla x reader #duncan vizla fanfiction #duncan vizla x you #the black kaiser x reader #polar fanfiction #minors dni #duncan vizla

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melgolbach · 4 months ago

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TASM peter parker x reader

peter rested against the window with a big huff, waiting patiently for you to open your apartment window that was on the seventh floor. his suit leg was halfway out the bag, his head dripping with a bit of blood onto your outside floor.

you finally came into your room, not knowing peter was there. your towel was on your body, fresh from the shower. you hummed slightly to yourself, peter smiling as he heard it. you dropped your towel and peter closed his eyes, knowing you (even if he’s seen you naked more then 400 times) would kick him out of the shared room between the two to get changed.

“ah!” you squealed, as you placed your shirt and peter’s head quickly went from the window to you. you were looking down at the floor paranoid, your shirt covering your top half and black panties covering your bottom. you crawled around, searching for whatever little insect that spooked you. peter had enough of waiting for you out in the cold, so he groaned when he moved and opened the sliding window.

you didn’t notice of how cold it got, looking underneath your bed for the rodent. you didn’t notice the new presence in the shared room either. “hey,” peter spoke out first. you honked your head on the bottom of your bed with a yelp, “you could’ve easily gotten murdered.” he giggled out, his smile brightened even more if possible. you looked up from your spot on your knees, “peter benjamin parker!” you got up, hitting his chest softly with each word.

“don’t scare me like that.” you sat back down on your bed, putting your soft silky pajamas on. “i liked the show of what i was seeing no,” he whined, dipping down to his knees and placing his head between your neck, leaving wet trails of kisses everywhere. you giggled softly, tingles all around your body as his connected with yours. “you stink,” you held your nose teasingly, looking at his eyes with one certain look.

he gasped at you, “however could you say that about me?” he kissed your lips, “you love this stinky boy.” you nod, “why yes i do— but i just took a shower and i don’t wanna smell like whatever you’re smelling. so please shower!” you shoved him lightly, kissing his dirty cheek.

“oh wait,” you looked at the spot that was damaged on his head, “no no it’s fine my love. it’s nothing but a scratch see?” he removed the dirt that was covering it, a long scratch it was. “yes but it looks deep peter.” you muttered. “i’ll put a bandaid on after my shower, but after that if you want to properly clean it you can.”

silence filled your room once again, and you got on your knees once more to find the rodent that was living rent free in your apartment you shared with peter. “where the heck did you go,” you whined, with a chancla in your hand ready to squash it as soon as it came out of its hiding spot.

five to ten minutes pass, and then the cockroach came out from the dresser. you gasped chasing it, and squatting it with the chancla you had. picking up the chancla, you looked at the bottom of the black shoe and made a gross noise. footsteps could be heard, and there was peter standing in the doorway with a towel wrapped around his waist.

“you got the killer little thing?” his sweet voice asked you. “mhmhm, disgusting. i can’t believe one was roaming around rent free in our apartment,” you sputter out while walking to the bathroom to flush it down. peter opened the shared closet door, picking his pajamas and putting his boxers on.

he put on his shirt, and decided to just sleep in shirt and boxers. you were already in bed snuggled deep into covers, so he drew the curtains of your bay window and turned off the light, putting the ceiling fan at a normal speed that the two of you loved it at.

peter jumped into bed with you, on his left side as you were on the right with your body laying on the mattress on your back. you turned your head towards him, a soft smile appearing. “hey,” he whispered. his arm sneakily and smoothly wrapping around your waist and pulling you closely to his body. “hey.” you smiled back.

“mm, missed you today.” he mumbled, kissing your head and your cheeks. “i’ve missed you more,” you played with the top of his shirt, running your hands down and leaving them at his biceps. his stomach moved ever so slightly, “got me ticklish right there.” he said, moving his face closer to yours with his eyes closed as his nose touched yours. “mhhm,” you gave him a sloppy love sick kiss, your lips parting ever so slightly.

“if i could, i’d stay like this forever.” he whispered, saying nothing afterwords waiting for your response. he waited and waited, then slowly opened his eyes to see you softly breathing and already asleep.

peter smiled, breathing in and closing his eyes and falling asleep after you.

———

a/n: i’m in love with tasm peter parker right now and there is NOT ENOUGH FICS OF ANDREW’S PETER… ASHAMED. anyways i hope you like this one, it’s so cute i might just do more of him.

#spiderman #tasm peter parker #tasm!peter x reader #the amazing spiderman #andrew garfield #marvel

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syd-djarin · 1 year ago

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Treat Me Like A Slut - jack "whiskey" daniels x f!reader

warnings: explicit 18+. *MDNI*

a/n: I got the title of this from the Kim Petras song with the same name. It inspired the filth below.

y'all already know by now my sister in smut @katiexpunk helped me flesh out deets & all that. couldn't do it without you bestie babe. <3

word count: 4k+

summary: Jack returns home from a mission. You have a surprise and a request for him.

tags: Jack calls reader a slut multiple times (at her request), masturbation (m and f), size kink, unprotected P in V, oral (m and f receiving), cum eating, orgasm denial, codewords, dom/sub dynamic, pet names for reader (sugar, baby, sweet girl, kitten), reader calls Jack cowboy, references to Jack being a trained killer, reader buys and wears lingerie, established relationship, brief mention of anal play, Creampie !!!!, no physical descriptions of reader, excessive use of Daddy, rough sex, ankle biting, toe sucking, a whip gets mentioned, size kink, spanking, one (1) titty slap, Jack has some funny lines in this one, bruising, and finally Jack is just a menace in this one – sweet and kinky AF.

smut after the cut.

Jack hates jerking off.

Well, he hates jerking off when he could have you. Nothing can replicate the feeling of your lips on his cock or being buried deep inside your pussy. He fucks his cock in his fist anyway, not that he has much of an option at the moment. Sweet, salacious memories of you flood his brain as he tries to melt deeper into the mattress and he attempts to forget the past few weeks. This mission has been long and drawn out; time he would rather spend with you.

You’ve been dating for three months now and can’t stay away from each other. Like a moth drawn to a flame, Jack wants to constantly be in your orbit. When he first asked you on a date, you both agreed to take it slow. “I don’t wanna pressure you, sugar,” he said, and you had agreed that slow is good. You quickly learned that neither you, nor Jack, know the concept of the word. Your first date turned into an entire weekend together. Once he had sampled a taste of your sweetness, there was no going back.

It’s been an agonizing week for Jack. He’s always had a flair for the dramatics, but you can hear it in the tone of his voice that he isn’t exaggerating when he says this week has nearly killed him. Sure, being a Statesman is dangerous and he flirts with death on the daily, but being away from you? He’d rather be given the Old Yeller treatment than to have to be without you.

“Fuck, fuck,” he moans, taking a final few tugs at the silky smooth skin of his hard shaft before cum erupts out of him and onto his toned belly. “Fuck,” he says, letting out a long sigh, hand still on how pulsing cock as he stares at the ceiling wishing you were here to lick the spend off of him.

***

You were able to keep yourself busy and enjoy your alone time at first, but as the week went on, you became more impatient. Needy.

Tonight, your apartment feels smaller than usual, the air thicker, as you pace back and forth across the hardwood floor. The book you had been engrossed in lay forgotten on the coffee table, its characters suspended in a world you couldn’t quite bring yourself to re-enter. Your mind was too focused on Jack.

You check your phone for the umpteenth time, the minutes ticking by at an excruciatingly slow pace. The silence in the apartment echoes the restlessness in you. You feel a knot tightening in your stomach, a want, a need, a feeling of unease.

An orgasm might help, you think, but no matter how hard you try, your methods of self-pleasure never seem to fully satiate you. Sure, you’ve made yourself come a dozen times this week, but it’s not the same. You’re spoiled now; Jack’s expert hands, mouth, and god his cock have taken your pleasure threshold to new heights. He’s given you the best orgasms of your life, and now what you’re able to accomplish on your own is slightly abysmal. It’s infuriating or splendid, you can’t decide which, that he seems to know your body more than you do.

Despite knowing it won’t help, the siren call of your cunt wins over. As you lay on your shared bed, engulfed in the smell of his cologne still clinging to the pillowcases, the faint buzz of your vibrator and your sweet little sounds that drive Jack crazy add new noise to the silence. You imagine Jack and the slow, tantalizing drag of his cock in and out of you as you fold like a house of cards letting the aftershocks of your orgasm lull you to sleep.

Just one more day until he’s home.

***

The first light of morning filters through the curtains, kissing the room in a soft glow, you stir from your slumber. You let out a big good morning stretch, and clear the sleep from your eyes. As you sit up, the duvet cascades from your shoulders and you take a moment to bask in the quiet beauty of the morning. Today’s the day.

The list of things you have to do before your cowboy comes home already starts running through your mind like the end credits of a movie, and you spring out of bed and get ready for the day.

As you stroll through the downtown area, with only one bag in hand, you just so happen to walk by a lingerie store. Call it chance or fate, but the sexy tight number in the window catches your attention.

“Hey there sweet pea, what brings you in today?” the older woman greets you as you walk through the doors to the shop. She doesn’t particularly fit the vibe of the store, but her presence is a bit disarming. Of course, you’d shopped for lingerie before, but always online and never in person, so you’re a tad nervous.

“Oh, hi – uh, well I was just out running some errands,” you say, slightly lifting your bag as if to signal this isn’t planned before continuing, “the piece in the corner caught my eye, would it be possible to try it on?” you ask, your eyes dropping to the floor as you tuck a loose piece of hair behind your ear.

“Oh sure, honey, that’s a gorgeous one!” You smile and give her your size, and she tells you to look around the shop for anything else you might like to try on. You grab a handful and she leads you to the dressing room, telling you her name is Darla and to holler if you need any different sizes.

You save your favorite, the one from the window, for last. As you slip into the ensemble, the fabric feels luxe against your skin. It’s a lacy, scarlet red babydoll with a thong to match. You admire yourself in the mirror, letting your palms playfully dance over your curves. Any nervousness you feel walking into the store is slowly replaced with a new sense of confidence. Lost in the fantasy of how he’ll respond, there’s a little flutter in your stomach.

“How’s it going in there? Need any help with the laces?” Darla asks. You’re not sure if it’s in her job description to be so kind to her customers, but you like her.

“Great – I, I think I found the one,” you say, opening the curtain to let her finish fastening you into the fabric.

“Oh honey, you’re a knockout,” she says, and you feel your skin warm at the compliment. “Your man’s in for a real treat.”

Yeah. He really is.

***

Once home, the hours seem to pass by slower than molasses, as Jack would say.

You decide to take an ‘everything’ shower to kill time and to compliment your new purchase. You have the time, so you decide to go the full nine; you put on a hair mask, exfoliate, shave, and gua sha your face. You giggle as you remember Jack watching you do it once, except he couldn’t say ‘gua sha’ correctly, mispronouncing the ‘gua’ as ‘goo’.

You moisturize your body in your favorite body butter, the one that Jack thinks smells delicious, and paint your nails to match the lacy number you’ll be donning this evening. Pampering yourself like this, giving yourself the self-care you’ve been needing, amplifies the arousal that’s been brewing all day.

You illuminate the room with a warm flicker of candles, their soft glow creating an ambiance to the room around you while the dulcet tones of your favorite vinyl grace the air at a low volume. You slip into your red number and put the finishing touches on your look as you admire yourself in the mirror. You look hot, and you know it.

You’re ready to pounce on Jack as soon as he walks in.

Suddenly, the unmistakable jingle of his keys in the lock alerts you that he’s finally home. You hear the little creak of the door as he pushes it open, and then the commanding cadence of his boot-clad footsteps, a sound you could identify any day. You feel a buzz course through your body at your excitement as you take your place on the bed.

“Honey, I’m home,” Jack echoes through the entryway.

“In here!” you respond, throwing your voice in his direction.

As Jack swings open the bedroom door, his jaw practically descends to the floor in sheer astonishment, his bag meeting the ground with a resounding thud. A stunned silence envelops the room, his dark brown eyes riveted on you, unblinking and filled with an intensity that leaves him momentarily speechless, while a palpable hunger reflects in his watering mouth.

Holy. Fuck.

“Hi baby, I missed you,” you purr, your eyes locked on his, as you crawl on all fours like a tigress to her prey to finish greeting him, “did you miss me?” you ask, all flirt and no question in your voice, rising to your knees on the mattress to give him a better look at your body.

He must have died and this is heaven. There’s no other explanation for the beauty that is you before him.

He approaches you, his broad hands finding your hips as you interlace your fingers behind his neck. With his body pressed against you, you can already feel his rock-hard cock twitching in his tight, nearly painted-on jeans.

“You have no idea…” he growls in the nape of your neck before pulling away to eye you in a ravenous manner that makes your heartbeat in your pussy.

One of his hands leaves your side, and he reaches up to angle your chin towards him. He looks you in the eyes in a way that makes you feel like you’re the only woman in the world, his eyes saying all of the things his mouth isn’t. He smiles at you for a moment before he leans in and plants his lips on yours. He begins to kiss you languidly, and you both let out soft moans in unison at being in each other’s presence again. His groomed mustache tickles your lips, making you giggle into his mouth.

He pulls back, fiddling with the hem of the baby doll. “You wear this just for me?” he asks, his warm hand splaying on your tummy.

“Mhmm,” you respond, but it comes out sounding a little more like a moan than a reply. “I wanted to surprise you,” you confess while looking down at where his hand meets your stomach, “wanted to look sexy for you, Agent Whiskey,” you look back into his eyes, giving him a little wink, your allure calling out to him; snatching him up faster than any lasso ever could.

Jack normally doesn’t like his work to bleed through to his personal life, but hearing your honeyed voice call him Agent Whiskey is enough to make him abandon all the rules.

“Darlin’, ya always look sexy to me, like a goddamn sex kitten,” he drawls, leaning in to plant tender kisses on your neck, his grazing his teeth over the soft skin of your neck. You giggle, playfully swatting at him. “‘M serious, you are divine,” he adds, divine coming out more like deevine.

You may be the sex kitten in his eyes, but he’s the one lapping you up like a bowl of milk. His hands roam over the tight fabric that graces your body, and you get lost in the feel of his touch. His grip on you is tight, even though you’re fully pressed against him, he wants you closer. His need, his lust, awakens something carnal in you, causing you to lose control of your tongue as you all but word vomit, “Treat me like a slut.” Well, we probably could have eased into that conversation.

He pulls back and eyes your face in disbelief – this must be heaven – before a knowing smirk washes across his face. “Is that what you want, hmm? Want Daddy to get rough with ya, baby?” The hand that’s gripping the soft flesh of your hips begins to migrate down to your ass.

You whimper; becoming putty-like in his hands, more than ready to worship at his altar.

“Tell me, baby. Use your words like a big girl,” he urges, squeezing your ass with more force.

“Yes, daddy,” you choke out, “I want you to be rough with me, please…please.”

“My pretty girl wants me to treat her like a slut, then that’s what she’ll get,” He removes the hand on your hip, and the other from your ass, before guiding them to find yours. He interlocks your fingers together and looks at you a bit more seriously this time. You see the darkness that flickers behind his eyes. You know Jack is a dangerous man – a trained killer – but he’d never hurt you. No, this darkness is something different, it’s an insatiable desire to consume you in every way possible, to give you anything you desire.

“Wanna set some rules first, ‘kay?” he says, his voice low. You nod.

“If at any point you want me to stop, slow down, don’t like something, whatever, you tell me, alright? You remember our code word?” he asks, and you nod again. “Good. Now, you don’t get to touch me unless I tell ya to. You don’t get to come ‘til I tell ya to. Got it?”

“Yes, daddy, I understand,” you respond. He lets out another knowing smirk and palms himself through his jeans.

“‘M gonna take good care of ya, baby girl. Now, you gonna show daddy what a good little slut you can be?” he asks.

“Yes, daddy. Wanna be a good slut for you.”

You’re a little surprised at how quickly you slip into submission, although you shouldn’t be. Not when it comes to Jack. He’s a master at getting what he wants, and you’re not sure if there is anything that you wouldn’t do for him.

“Good girl. Now, off the mattress and get on your knees,” he orders, already unbuckling his jeans to free his wicked big cock.

You do as he says, feeling yourself sink your weight onto your shins and the coolness of the hardwood beneath you. “Open your mouth,” he says, his heavy cock in hand, stroking it to get it to full length.

You open your mouth and stick your tongue out, patiently waiting for your next instructions.

He continues to stroke himself, looking, admiring, the gift of a woman that sits before him. As he pumps himself, he takes a few steps forward so that he’s hovering above you. Your big doe eyes look up at him, and you’re drooling at the sight of him like you always have.

His thumb ghosts over his red and weeping tip, and he uses it to collect the dribble of precum that has beaded through his slit to wet the tip of his cock. He taps the mushroom head of it onto your tongue a few times, a sticky string of saliva trailing between him and your tongue with each lift before he eventually plants the tip fully in your mouth. Your lips lock around him, and you begin to moan, reveling in the heady taste of him. You want so badly to move, to take him deeper into your mouth, but he hasn’t told you to do so. He tangles one of his hands in your hair, firmly pulling; not too gentle, but not too rough, either.

Jack slides your mouth off of him. He’s admiring your present state; spit and precum smeared across your mouth and down your chin, hair disheveled and your eyes delirious from lust.

“Change of plans,” he says, offering no explanation as to why he’s suddenly depriving you of sucking him off.

“Don’t worry ‘m gonna take of ya, like I always do,” he says, kicking off his boots and shucking the rest of his clothes to the floor, “hands and knees on the bed, baby.”

You don’t need to be told twice. You’re clambering over yourself to follow directions, legs unsteady from your agonizing need.

Jack drops to his knees behind you, takes his thick finger, and slips it into your crack, under the lacy string situated between your cheeks. He pulls back on the thin string and releases it, the snap causing a pleasant sting against your skin.

“Soaking wet,” he hums, ‘always so fucking wet, you perfect girl,” he rasps, running that same finger through your seam, along the drenched lace, causing you to whimper. “Who’s got you so wet, baby, hmm?” he asks, knowing the answer, he just wants to hear you say it.

He lands a light swat on your ass when you don’t answer him. It sends a shiver through your spine, more arousal dripping into your thong.

“‘M not gonna ask you again. So tell me, who’s got your pretty pussy so wet, baby?”

“You, Jack, always wet for you, only you,” each word comes out shaky, so aroused you might collapse if Jack doesn’t alleviate the ache soon, “Daddy, please,” you cry.

Kneading the flesh of your ass he grunts in approval. “S’right baby, you’re mine. All mine.”

Jack pulls the thong to the side, revealing your dripping cunt to him. He spits down, trailing from your asshole to your clit, your legs clench in response. You’re using all your might not to move. This doesn’t go unnoticed by him, after all, it is his job to notice things; even on the subtlest level.

Ghosting a fingertip over your tight ring of muscle, rousing you, “You like it when I touch you like that? Touchin’ your other slutty lil hole?”

“Y-es, fuck,” gritting out through ragged breaths. He files that information for later, a smug grin plastered on his face.

He swipes his tongue from your clit up your entrance. He moans in response to your taste like you’re the best dessert he’s ever had; you whimper from the spark of pleasure of the warmth of his tongue. He teases you a few more times by lightly skimming up and down, licking you from your clit down to your aching hole. You can’t help but squirm, rocking your hips back to meet his mouth, chasing your high. He smacks your ass again, a reminder to keep still.

“Need more,” you whine pitifully, his grip on the back of your thighs is now ironclad, blocking you from gaining more stimulation that isn’t provided by him.

He halts his movements and pulls his face away from your pussy, but still close enough that you can feel his hot breath when he speaks, “I know I don’t need’ta remind you to use your manners.”

“Please, daddy, I need more, fuck, fuck, fuckkk!” you desperately cry.

“Good girl, askin’ so nicely,” punctuated by shoving a thick finger into your weeping entrance.

Jack pumps his finger in and out at a steady pace, all while flicking his tongue across your throbbing clit. When he thinks you’re relaxed enough, he slips in a second finger, and the added sensation and drag against your soft walls has you barreling towards the edge of your orgasm.

He can tell you’re close by the way your cunt grips down on him, tightening like a trap, one you never want him to leave. He slows his pace, edging you until you’re writhing in his grip. “Daddy, please, please let me come,” you’re heaving, covered in a sheen of sweat.

“My little slut gets to come when I tell her she can,” he torts.

Once he senses you’re no longer as close to finishing as you were, he slowly picks up his tempo once more and the attention he places on your clit brings you right back to the boiling point. Your fingers card through his dark locks as you hang on to him for dear life, doing your best not to come without permission.

“J–Jaa-Jack,” you cry, “I can’t hold on much longer, I’m going to come, I need to come.”

He wants to continue to edge you all night, but the growing ache from his neglected cock begins to get to him. As much as he wants to continue to devour you, his blood-filled shaft has other plans.

“Alright, you can come, let me hear you, pretty girl,” he whispers against your mound before his lips find their home around your clit, and his tongue begins to circle against it in just the right way. With his permission, you let out a sigh of relief; your orgasm washes over you like the ocean onto the shore, it’s loud and strong.

Jack gathers the slick seeping out of you onto his fingers and sucks it off, his eyes fluttering shut as he savors the final taste of your release. “That’s finger lickin’ good, baby,” he says. You might feel inclined to cringe at that, but you’re too fucked out to mind, but a little giggle escapes your chest at the comment. Only Jack could find the perfect balance of vulgarity and humor.

He drops both of his large palms to your thighs and begins to massage them with a soothing amount of pressure, grounding you through your floaty, blissed-out state, and it’s not before long that the need for more returns. He gently pecks soft kisses on your lower back, murmuring praises against your skin. Such a good girl, you did so good for me, my sweet and pretty girl. He’s sensual and sweet amidst the dominance he’s displaying, the duality makes your heart beat fast and your pussy flutter.

He rises to stand and positions himself behind where you’re bent over. He strokes his heavy cock as he marvels at how good you look like this, bent over, ass up, just waiting to be stuffed full of him. He lines the tip of his cock up against your wet and waiting cunt to gather a little bit of your slick on the head of him before he begins gliding his cock up and down through your messy folds. The sensation on your somewhat sensitive clit makes you let out a small little whimper.

“Want daddy to fuck you, pretty girl?” Just like before, he already knows the answer, he just wants to hear you beg for it, beg for him. His ego is as big as his cock. His words are as much of a tease for him as they are for you; his resolve begins to crumble further with every moment he’s not buried to the hilt inside you.

“Yes!” nodding your head despite the way it’s still spinning, “please—”

“Think she can fit it,” he asks, not giving you a second to answer as he drives the length of him inside you with no restraint. Your body jolts forward on impact and he clutches your waist, pinning you in place. Both of you are unmoving, gasping to catch your breath as you adjust to his size. It’s a stretch every time and you delight in it. “Course she can, cuz my girl is a perfect little slut,” he says, dragging his cock in and out of you with ease as your wetness coats him.

‘Fuck, baby. You feel so good, it’s like this pussy was made for me, just fuck, just for me,” he says, willing himself to not bust inside of you already, but it’s hard. Having you like this, at his mercy, coupled with the time he spent away from you, he’s shaking in his proverbial boots.

You start to reach your hand behind you to hold onto his arm, but stop, remembering the rules. You don’t get to touch me unless I tell ya to.

Jack beats you to the punch, “Go on, darlin’, grab hold’a daddy. You’re gonna need it.”

Just as soon as you wrap your hand around his forearm, he pulls almost out of you entirely before slamming back into you, the tip of his cock punches your cervix and you let out a little welp. The intensity of the relentless pace he has set has you breathless, keyed up, on the edge of another orgasm. He continues to fuck in and out of you, plowing into your pussy at a devastating pace; no mercy to be found.

Lecherous sounds echo through the bedroom; Jack’s hips slapping against the flesh of your ass, the wet squelch of your pussy, guttural groans and whines.

“Such a good fuckin’ slut for me, kitten… you take this cock so good, so fuckin’ tight, Jesus…” Jack rambles in between his thrusts.

“Tell daddy how it feels,” he commands, landing a sharp smack against your ass. “Feels so good, daddy, mmm, feel so full,” you sputter, an octave higher than you usually speak.

“Yeah I know, baby girl,” he pulls out, manhandling you onto your back, jerking your legs over his shoulders before he slams back into you in a matter of seconds, the intensity of it causes your tits to bounce and Jack loves the sight of it. The angle has his cock punching your cervix brutally and deliciously. Your cunt grips him tighter as you watch the way his jaw goes slack as he pummels in and out of you. He can use you like this forever and you’d be fine with it.

Jack turns his face to graze his teeth across your ankle, then bites the soft flesh, eliciting a yelp from you. The look in Jack’s eyes is voracious. He’ll never have enough of you.

“Eyes on me, baby,” he growls, gently slapping one of your tits through the cups of the babydoll to redirect your eyes into his. Locking eyes with one another while Jack ravages you has you hurling into another orgasm.

“Fuck, I’m so close, daddy,” just shy of shouting.

A cheeky grin breaks out on his face as if he’d gotten an idea just now. Jack lifts one of your legs off his shoulder and holds it steady, your foot now directly in front of his face. Without warning, he shoves your middle two toes into his mouth.

“Jack!” You actually shout this time. A mix of surprise and bliss.

“Scream my name as loud as you need to, sugar,” he teases, but admittedly, he loves seeing how loud he can get you to cry out his name.

He runs his warm tongue along your ticklish toes and you’re done for. “Can I come daddy? I’m so fucking close, please I need to come…” panting like a dog in heat.

“C’mon give it to me, pretty girl, gimme another and I’ll fill you up with my cum,” he encourages. He’s not far off from where you’re at. “Been such a good slut for me tonight, soak this fuckin’ cock…”

He’s rutting into you with such great force, you know you’ll be sore tomorrow. That thought is the last push you needed; you’re clenching around Jack while you’re coming; entering a rapturous daze.

“Oh fuck, Jack—fuck, ah!” mewling loudly. Your juices drip out of you onto his cock and the sheets. He loves how messy your pussy is.

“That’s it baby, mmmm such a sweet mess you made for me…” cooing at you.

He slows his speed way down, but keeps the thrusts deep, helping you ride out your second orgasm of the night.

A few hard, deep, slow thrusts and Jack is spurting his spend in your pussy.

“Fuuuuuuuuuck, baby,” halting his movements, resting his forehead against yours. The sticky sheen of sweat clings in the air; the distinctive smell of sex permeating the room.

He showers your face in tender kisses, leaving no patch of skin untouched. You adore the way Jack will fuck you within an inch of your life and will be caring and attentive afterwards.

***

Both of you lie still tangled in each others’ arms, Jack breaks the silence, “Maybe I should leave more often,” in that post-sex-husky-raspy voice you love so much.

“Nuh-uh, this week sucked without you. Leave for that long again and it’ll be you getting treated like a slut,” you taunt. You giggle uncontrollably, still under the effect of your climax.

He puffs out an exhale of relief. He’s not convinced you have a dominant bone in your body until you reveal that you purchased something else in addition to the red number still lingering on your body.

“You should see what else I bought,” you say, your voice suggestive enough to perk Jack’s ears up from his nearly fucked out comatose state. He opens one eye and looks at you with an inquisitive face. You let out a smirk, and jump up from the bed, a bounce in your step, as you walk over to the dresser across the room.

Jack’s jaw actually falls to the floor this time when he watches you reveal a long, black, leather whip.

“My turn, cowboy.”

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one-piece-aus · 4 months ago

Text

Unbottle Your Emotions

Eustass Kid x Reader (Part 5)

Taglist: @lingxio @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @tremendoushorsepatrolgoth @lil-skelly-bones (ask or comment if you want to be added)

Ahoy! Part 5 is here! I took inspiration from ask-bolthead-crew for the crew's names (aside from Killer, Heat, and Wire). You should check their blog out because the art style is metal(/pos). Also shout out to the people who voted in Killer poll, it was helpful :3

Without further ado, enjoy the story ^-^

Okay, calm down. You'll be fine. Hawkins said the cards said you'll be fine so you'll be fine, right? You just need to stand here, where Kid told you to meet him at lunch. Is this the right one? Well, he did say to be by the glass-stained window by the south entrance, and you're staring at a glass-stained window as you lean next to the doors.

...

Surely it's been a few minutes, and it'd be understandable if you left, right? You did wait and he hasn't shown up so-

"Is that her?"

'Oh great, they're here.' You internally groaned.

You glance over to see Kid and his gang approaching, internally thanking there's a security camera monitoring the hallway. Bouncing off the wall, you wave.

"Hey."

"And I thought you would've been late." Kid smirked at you.

You roll your eyes. "I was only late to class this one day."

Truthfully, you had shown up late to English class (when Makino started attendance) because you didn't want to go knowing Kid's your work partner. You only showed up because you feared what Kid would do if you didn't. You've been early to class otherwise.

"Enough chit-chat, let's go. I'm hungry." A guy with sunglasses and a tall mohawk took the lead, and you all followed outside.

You felt assured that they were heading in the same direction you went yesterday, when you had lunch with Hawkins and Apoo, at least you'd know your way back in case you needed to run. Still, you were dragging your feet, lagging at the back of the group. The blond with long hair took notice, slowing his pace to walk next to you.

"Kid forgot introductions, didn't he?" He guessed.

You nodded, pushing away the urge to question why he wore a face mask. "Yeah, uh I'm [L/n] [Y/n]."

"I go by Killer."

You try to keep a straight face. That doesn't stop the thousand questions erupting in your brain. Main one being: Is that part of the teenage edge phase or has he genuinely killed people?

Killer begins pointing out the others to you, starting with sunglasses. "That's Haikei, Oscar, Noe, Wire, and-"

"Heat?"

"You already know him?" Killer raised an inquiring brow.

"Yeah, he uh- he was in one of my classes last year. He probably wouldn't remember though."

Normally would've forgotten your classmate's name, but the few times Kid came to your classroom after the lunch bell rang because Heat was there, not only made you aware of who the loud redhead was, but you also took note to avoid him in order to not encounter Kid.

"I see," Killer said. A moment of silence passed, well at least between the two of you, Kid and Haikei were loudly arguing about something in front of the pack, before Killer spoke to you again. "So you're Kid's partner in English?"

"Yup." A nonchalant answer.

"You must be smart."

"What makes you say that?"

"Kid normally complains about group projects. He hasn't said a word about you."

You're taken aback. Letting Killer's words sink in, your mind does its best to keep the shock invisible. Does that mean Kid enjoys working with you? No. It means he tolerates you, that's the reasonable conclusion. He's only interacting with you because you have a project, as you are with him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Find us a booth." Kid grinned as he walked up to the counter.

You were about to follow when the guy with the beanie called you, Noe you think it was. "Woah, where ya headin' off to, dollface? Kid's already ordering for us."

"I'm gonna make my order," you simply stated.

Last time someone ordered for you, you got a salad. You were pissed to say the least.

Killer face palmed. "Kid didn't tell you, did he [L/n]?"

"Tell me what?"

"The whole point of Kid inviting you was to help us finish this challenge," Haikei said.

"What challenge?" You didn't have to wait for your answer when Kid approached your table with a giant platter full of chicken wings.

"Alright boys, you know the drill!" Kid set down the platter and took his seat. He glanced at you, looking at you with a gaze that questioned why you were standing. Rolling your eyes, you sit down across from him.

A waiter came by a set a timer down. "600 chicken wing challenge, finish in one hour or less and your meal is free. Your time begins now." He hit the clock and the others dived in.

You blinked a few seconds, confused as hell. 'An hour? We didn't have an hour, lunch is only 45 minutes, and we'd have to leave in 30 minutes if we didn't want to be late for class. Are they stupid or do they not care?' You glanced at Kid, a frown present on your face. Though one of them spoke up before you got a word in.

"Whatcha waiting for? Dig in," Noe told you, his mouth full.

"The three who eat the least gotta pay the bill," Heat informed beside you. "But I'm sure you won't have to since it's your first go."

"We only have half the time the restaurant gave us, shut your yaps and get to eating!" Kid ordered putting four chicken wings in his mouth.

"Guess we have to, princess over here must not like chicken," Haikei remarked.

Oh hell naw. You got up and walked to the counter. Kid briefly glanced at you before looking back at the platter. Maybe he should've let you order something while he got the chicken wings-

"Let's do this!" You slammed a large glass of milk down and took a handful of chicken wings. Kid's gang stared at you wide-eyed and jaws dropped as you began wolfing down food. You glared at them during your milk break. "Come on, I don't wanna be late to class."

Kid snapped out of it and continued eating, as did the rest. Killer took notice of his friend's demeanour shifting. The blond glanced at the rest who were now glancing at you with interest, however, a quick stern shake from Killer made them drop it. Humming, Killer ate another chicken wing under his mask.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Alright, we finally beat that stupid challenge!"

The gang cheered as they exited the restaurant. You simply smiled, satisfied with your lunch. Maybe you'll have that burger tomorrow. You felt someone pat you on the back.

"All thanks to [L/n]! Here here!" Noe exclaimed. "No wonder Kid brought her."

"Kid knew you weren't going to be any help," the one with the short blond mohawk remarked.

"Fuck you, Oscar." Noe flipped him off.

You laughed along with the others, though you felt that irritation from earlier begin eating at your mind again. Did Kid invite you because you were extra help? What would he have done if you didn't help like the others expected? A sour taste sat in your mouth, at least you tuned into the conversation.

"Is she not part of the gang, already?" Heat's the one that asked.

"What?" You blink confused.

"This was [L/n] initiation, wasn't it?" Oscar asked, looking at Kid.

The redhead didn't say anything, making brief eye contact with you. Tossing the sourness out the window, a mixed puzzle settles in your mind instead.

"Hey, Kid just invited me for lunch since I'm working with him in English. I accepted since wasn't working on anything else, though I'll likely be busy studying tomorrow."

Sweet, you corrected the situation and made an excuse so you don't have to go tomorrow. He can't get mad if you're studying, right?

"I'll invite you again when we get the A on our project," Kid said.

"Alright," you say nonchalantly, internally dreading the idea of coming back. You barely survived today. The only reason you didn't struggle to hold yourself together is because you did more than they were expecting so Kid's barks were directed at the others. You can't go through that again now that you've raised his expectations.

"How 'bout we get something else for lunch," Killer suggested. "Since we completed their challenge, I'm sure it'll be a while before they let us take it again."

Well, that was a relief. At least, you know you won't have to deal with that. You half-tune out of the conversation now that they're chatting about other food joints. Slowly the school building came into sight, your eyes passively precepting your surroundings, until you heard an annoying voice. Not just any annoying voice.

Trying to stay cool and invisible, you glance in the direction you heard the voice. Sure enough, it's Helmeppo who is talking to Koby. Shit. You're dead meat if Koby spots you.

You slowed down by some plants and stepped into nature, walking for a few moments before hiding in the green. Silently, you counted up to a minute and stepped out. Glancing around, you sighed, relieved before heading to a different entrance than the south, blending in amongst the crowd.

For a moment, the thought of Kid getting mad because you disappeared without saying anything crossed your mind. A drop of fear swirled in your mind, not knowing how he'd react when you'd see him again. However, when comparing it to the latter, an angry Kid is far less worse, he's only in one class and you know how to hide in the crowded halls. He's easy to escape from, unlike the alternative.

You stand by your choice.

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece x y/n #eustass x reader #eustass kid x reader #one piece eustass kid #one piece eustass #eustass kid #eustass kid x you #eustass kid x y/n #kid x reader #x reader #one piece kid #killer #massacre soldier killer #kid pirates #unbottle your emotions

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glassartpeasants · 6 months ago

Text

How To Love .04

Trafalgar Law x F!Reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, vandalism, awkward ex encoutners

A/N: here, eat up

music playlist

~~~

“Finally! The rush is over.” After what felt like hours, there were no customers or online orders to be fulfilled. Finally, your heart rate could go back to normal.

Picking up some water, you chug it down. “Thirsty much?”

“Piss off, Killer, you’ve been taking orders, and I’ve been running to make them!” You pant as you try to drink more water.

“So rude.” Killer laughs before going to restock things. “I saw you finally got a car.”

“Yeah! I finally got my driver's license after waiting for my appointment to come up. Law was super happy for me when I told him.”

“How are things with you and Law?”

“You're never gonna believe this! So yesterday, we almost kissed, but I got cockblocked by the delivery guy!” A sudden cackle fills your ears, making you turn to see Killer holding his chest.

“Oh, so the only time you laugh is at my misery?” Killer continues to laugh as he grips the counter. “Stop laughing, damnit!”

“Six months of waiting only to be cockblocked is the best thing I’ve heard all week.”

“Hey! I was healing from a breakup, you ass! I wasn’t gonna go out and kiss the next man I saw.” You huff while throwing a paper cup at him. “You're lucky we're in public, or I swear!” Leaning against the counter, you can’t help but let your mind wander back to yesterday.

The rain beat against the windows as the movie played to drown it out. Fighting and the dialogue of the villains ring in your ears. Both you and Law were waiting impatiently for your food to arrive.

“God, I’m so hungry. How long does it take for some grub to get here?” You complain.

“Calm down, it’s 3 pm. The rush is right now.” Law says as he can’t help but chuckle. “Plus, if we had just gone to get it ourselves-”

“But that would require changing, and I’m perfectly content on not doing that right now.” Shifting around, you get slightly closer to Law. “Also, I'm warm and toasty right here.” Law smiles as he looks down at you. Feeling his gaze, you look up and softly smile as your eyes land on his lips and yours.

“Law...” You whisper before moving just a bit closer, as does Law. His breath fanned against your lips, making your heart beat faster.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

The two of you quickly part faces, burning at the ruined moment.

“I’ll go, um, get it.” Law stumbles as he gets up to get the door.

“Yeah, sounds good.” Laughing nervously, you look away. As soon as Law was out of sight and earshot, you hit the couch cushion and whisper yelled a soft “Fuck!”

Letting out a huff, you push yourself off the counter. Last night's memories flood your senses as you feel your body heating at what could’ve happened if the delivery man had been only five more minutes late.

DING DING DING

“(Y/N) can you get that? I’m in storage at the moment!”

“Sure!” Turning around and running to the counter, you shake away the memories. “Hello, how can I-”

“Ah. I…didn’t know you were working today.” Your brain fried as you see your ex standing in front of you, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Yeah.” The awkward tension felt suffocating as you tried to find the words to say. It’s been almost six months since you’ve seen Eustass, and he still looked the same as the day it all went down.

“Do you still get the same drink?”

“I was gonna get that expresso shit you guys do. Didn’t sleep much last night.” You raise your eyebrow.

“I thought you hated expresso?”

“I do. I’m just working a twelve at the shop, and I don’t want to be sleepy.”

“Well, why don't you get a cold brew? And I thought you guys had a coffee machine at the shop?” Eustass's face went red as he shoved his hands in his pockets.

“I broke it.”

“You…broke it?” His face got even redder as he shifted his gaze.

“Killer and I were throwing tools to see if they’d stick into the wall, and one bounced off the wall and hit the coffee machine.” A silence fell between the two of you as you looked at him wide-eyed and slightly agape. After a few seconds, you managed to compose yourself.

“I have no words other than your total is 5.18.” Eustass let out a cough before pulling out a ten. Grabbing it, you cash it out and give him his change.

“I’ll go make the-”

“I got it.” Killer cuts you off and grabs the ticket before you can make it. You could feel your eye twitch, but shove your irritation down with a sigh. Turning your head, your eyes met Eustass’s, and all the questions you’ve had since rushed through your mind.

“Is there something wrong with me?” Eustass's eyes sift as he sees you grip the counter. “Did I do something wrong?”

With a gentle sigh, he responds. “No. There's nothing wrong with you, and you did nothing wrong. It’s me who has something wrong with them.” Eustass runs his fingers through his hair. “I should’ve got my shit together and grown up instead of always chasing a constant thrill. Too immature that I kept staring at other women.”

“Out of all the people in the world. Why (.....)?”

“Wrong place at the wrong time. She came over to see you cause, apparently, you two had plans that day, and she had just come over early. And you know what happens after that…” You look at him like he was speaking another language cause you know for a fact that you did not have plans with her that day.

“We didn’t have plans that day.” Eutass looks shocked at your revelation.

“What? Why did she come over then?” You throw your arms up.

“How am I supposed to know?!” Another silence falls among the two of you before Eustass speaks.

“Whatever the reason is, it doesn’t matter. Just know that none of it was your fault. Not my cheating or anything. You were perfect in every sense of the word. And I'm a fool for taking you for granted.”

You look away and sigh before turning back to Eustass. “Despite the fact I still want to kick your ass, I’m glad you’ve taken responsibility.”

“It’s the first step to maturity, right?” A small chuckle leaves the two of you.

“I supposed. Just don’t change yourself too much.”

“Here’s the cold brew, Eustass.”

“Oi, thanks, Killer.” Killer nods before leaving you and Eustass alone again. “Wait, I thought I got an expresso?”

“I rang it as a cold brew. It has more caffeine in it and is not as bitter. And it’s cheaper.” Eustass looks down at the coffee before giving it a whiff.

“Just try the damn thing!”

“Give me a second woman, god!” He huffs before taking a sip. “Oh, that’s not so bad.” You roll your eyes before you see another customer come in.

“I guess that's my cue to get the hell outta here. It was…nice to see you and talk to you again.”

“Yeah…you too.” Turning around, he waves before closing the door to the cafe, leaving you to boil in your thoughts.

‘Yeah, you too? Why the hell did I say that? I didn’t miss him at all! Did I?’ The inner turmoil from all those months ago resurfacing. Even if some of his words gave you closure, you still couldn’t help but feel pain in your heart.

The fact that even after breaking your heart, he was still so easy to talk to. That he even got a chuckle out of you! Why? How on earth did he still manage to make you laugh? Why was there this burning in your chest when you thought of him? Months ago, you were filled with hate and hurt, and now, even if it was for a second, talking to him feels normal again.

“Hi, sweetie, how have you been?” An old, gentle voice breaks through your voice.

“Oh! Mrs. June! Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in. But I’ve been okay.” You give her a small laugh as you look at the little old lady. Your week was going great, but now having that talk with Eustass fucked it up. Filling it with doubt and more questions.

“Is it about the man you were just talking to?”

“What?! No! I’m okay! Really!”

“Dear, I was your age once too. Not to mention, I have children your age, too. I know when troubles are caused by a boy.” The caring voice she carries makes you let out a sigh.

“My ex just came to the shop after not seeing him for six months since he cheated. Talking to him felt so normal, just like it used to be. But I don’t love him anymore. I shouldn’t love him anymore. I’ve fallen in love with someone else. Everything was fine. I was happy. But now he just had to waltz back in, and there's a burning in my heart.” Admitting it did feel much better. Instead of keeping it down and suffering, having an unbiased opinion is nice.

“Oh, sweetie, you simply miss the memories. You miss what once was. It’s normal. I’m sure you loved him very much, so it’ll always hurt, no matter how much time has passed.”

“But I’ve fallen in love with someone else?”

“It happens to everyone. You're not a bad person for it.” Letting out a breath of relief, you feel a weight lifted off your shoulders.

“You really know what to say. Thank you, Mrs. June.” She places her hand on your own.

“Anytime, dear.”

~~~

The day seemed to drag as he couldn’t help but think about you and the kiss you almost shared. How, after dreaming of your lips on his, he would finally get to feel them. But of course, it was just his luck; the delivery guy ruined the moment. Law’s never wanted to strangle someone more in his life.

“Hey doc, we got a female, age 24, coming in for back pain. Room two.”

“Hmm? Oh. Okay, thanks.” Grabbing the chart, Law movies towards the room.

“Hello, I’ll be your-”

“Law! It's you!” Hearing that ear bleeding voice ring in his ears make a scowl appear on his face. Of course, it had to be her, of all people, when he was already annoyed. Gritting his teeth, Law could only picture going home to you and Bepo to calm him down. You smile and ask him about his day, and Bepo comes up to welcome him home.

“I’ve missed you so much! I’ve tried to get in contact with you, but-”

“You said you're here for back pain, correct?”

“Well, yes but-”

“Have you hit anything? Where does it hurt specifically?”

It’s evident that Law’s lack of normal conversation bothered (.....). Her nostrils flared, and her eye twitched, but she quickly shoved it down. “How’s Bepo doing? I’m sure he misses his mom.”

“He’s fine.”

“I mean, I’m sure he’d be delighted to see me.”

“He doesn’t care. He’s a cat.” While Bepo obviously was more than just a cat, (.....) didn’t deserve the thought that she was missed, even if it was something as simple as a cat.

“I’m sure you’ve missed me, isn’t that right, traffy?” Her voice, trying to be sickeningly sweet, only sounded like the screaming of a fox. Her use of her old nickname for him makes him feel sick.

“Don’t call me that. It’s Dr. or Trafalgar to you.” Law snaps at (.....). No one was allowed to call him that. Hell, she was the only one that did. The nickname grinds his gears.

Cracking her knuckles, (.....) takes a deep breath before scoffing. “...Is that mooch (Y/N) still living with you?”

Law gripped the clipboard violently. He was already struggling with remaining calm just seeing her, but now that she’s trying to insult you? The one person who seemed to get him and care about him genuinely? That would not stand.

“She’s not a mooch, and yes, she is.” Law answered with gritted teeth.

(.....) rolled her eyes before continuing. “She’s probably still working that dead-end job at the cafe. I told her that she was going into a stupid career path.” (.....) words made Law grip the clipboard even tighter. “She isn’t even good at art or writing.”

Hearing (.....)’s final words, Law’s grip on the clipboard was tight enough to put a crack in the plastic. “Take that back (.....). Right now.”

“Why? We all know it’s true.” Seeing red, Law finally snapped.

“She’s one of the most creative people I’ve ever met. Her creativity is something you could never hope to achieve. Not to mention, she took those as minor classes. If you ever dared to use your fucking ears, you’d know she went to major in being a chef.” Law’s words pierced through (..... like bullets. Each more painful than the last.

“Everything about her is nothing you could ever hope to be!”

“You're acting like you love her!”

“That’s because I do!” Law immediately slammed his mouth shut with his hand. The room became tense and silent.

“That fuck did you just say?” (.....)’s voice drops as she clutches her fists. Her pupils dilate. Once full of awkwardness, the room is now full of uneasy tension. Law’s body filled with concern as the look on (.....) was murderous.

“There’s no fucking way I’ll let that bitch take you away from me.” She sneered as she looked at Law. “I refuse to let that bitch take you!” Her scream echoed off the walls.

“What the hell?! I’m my own fucking person.”

“You are supposed to be with me!” Suddenly, two men come into the room. The screaming from earlier had already prompted security to call.

“We got called for screaming?”

Pointing to (.....) Law quickly answers. “Her! She needs to leave!” Nodding and taking his word as fact, the security guards go to (.....).

“Ma’am, you need to leave. Please don’t make this harder than this has to be.”

“Don’t fucking touch me! I’m not leaving until I finish talking to Law!” (.....) turned her head towards Law, who stood by the door.

“Leave (.....) there's nothing to talk about.”

“No!” Pushing past the guards, (.....) tries to run up to Law, only to be stopped by security. “Get off me!” The sound of (.....)’s scream echoed throughout the hospital as she was dragged out of the hospital.

The whole encounter had Law shaken as he sat in his office and ran his fingers through his hair.

“Holy fuck…” Of the two years he’s dated (.....), never has he seen that side of her. It’s been so long since he’s broken up with (.....), yet with her reaction, it felt like it only happened yesterday. It was unnerving, to say the least.

DING

Pulling his phone from his pocket, he sees a text from you and lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. With a soft smile, he opens it.

“It sounds great.” A soft chuckle leaves Law’s lips before he replies and puts the phone back in his pocket. Looking down at his desk, he couldn’t help but smile at the prospect of getting off work to see you once again.

-I made a drink inspired by you :)

-Is it good?

-Of course it’s good! I also made Bepo out of wiped cream

-Bepo’s not that fat

-One day, you’ll take off your rose-colored glasses. Does pasta sound good for dinner?

~~~

As the day turned into night and the street lights shown bright, it was finally time for you to go home. With all the rushes through the day and that emotional encounter with Eustass, the concept of home sounded heavenly.

Considering Killer left earlier for a doctor's appointment, you were the only one to close up. Thankfully, the rest of the day was quick and easy. There were no rude customers or rushes. It's the perfect night to be closing by yourself.

It also happened to be the first day you got the car you had saved enough money for and bought off the Facebook Marketplace. It was a beater, sure, but it was your first car. Taking the bus was fine for the first two months, but after almost getting robbed at the bus station, you decided it was time to face your fears and go get your driver's license.

You didn’t tell Law until it was all said and done because you wanted it to be a surprise. Even getting in to take your driver's test took eons. It was booked months out! So when you finally managed to take it, you made sure you passed that test. After that, you just had to save up. And now, you have a driver's license and a new car. There was a nick or two of missing paint, but you loved it.

As you close up shop, you notice something on your car's back window. Squinting your eyes, you let out a gasp at the sight of your back window shattered.

“No, no, no, no! What the hell happened?!” As you run up and get closer, your mouth drops open, and you can only look on in horror.

The closer you got, the worse it got. Instead of what you thought was just a broken window, you're met with your tires slashed, every window shattered, and horrible names carved into the side of your car. Glass shards covered the pavement around the car and in the inside of your seats. The metal of the car ruined as the words ‘bitch’ and ‘whore’ were carved into the car doors. Each headlight busted along with your mirrors.

The car you had spent so long saving up for and were so proud of is now reduced to nothing but a hunk of junk. As you stared at your car in horror, one thought ran through your mind. ‘Who could have done this?’

A feeling of unease fills your body as you look around the dark, empty parking lot. The only one there was you, and what was your car. Grabbing the store key from your key ring, you run back into the store. As soon as you lock the door behind you, you make a break from the security camera footage.

Logging into the computer, you click on today’s date and start recording. You put it on 2x speed as you scan carefully. It showed your co-worker opening the shop, and then a few others showed up before the customers. The day goes by before you show up. Now, you get even closer to the monitor, determined to figure out who would do such a thing.

Finally, at 7 p.m., you see a person dressed in all black emerge from the shadows. Trying to get a closer look at their face, you see they are wearing a mask, which makes you frown, but you continue.

You watched them pull out a knife from their pockets before slashing each of your tires. Zooming in, you watch as they use what you assume is a key to carve into your car. They go to both sides before getting up, looking around, and moving out of frame. Not even seconds later, the person comes back into the frame. Your mouth drops open as you watch them use a rock to violently smash your windows.

“What?! How did I not hear that?!” Switching to the inside security camera, you fast-forward to 7 p.m. to see what was happening. You immediately lower your head and let out a quick “God damnit” at the sight of you dancing to the music you had on blast while closing.

Standing up straight, rage boiled in your veins as you kicked the nearby trash can “Fuck!” Looking down at the camera footage again, your heart stops when you see the hooded figure staring straight into the camera only minutes before you see what happened to your car. The shine of a knife in their pocket made you swallow the lump in your throat.

You pull out your phone and get to Law’s number. “Come on, come on, come on!” The sound of the ringer going to voicemail causes a sweat to start. Ending the call with Law, you immediately try to call Killer. Every second you heard it ring, it felt as if you’re getting grey hairs. Yet just like Law’s, his, too, went voicemail.

You begin to panic as you try to think of anyone else to come pick you up or at least talk you through what to do. You didn’t have many friends. At least ones that you trust enough to give you a ride. Biting your lip, you start panicking before a number comes to you.

“No, I can’t call him.” You begin to pace around as you fight with yourself. Finally, after taking another look at your destroyed car in the camera footage, you dial the number.

“Please pick up the phone.” Crossing your fingers, your heart beats with every ring.

“Oi-”

“Eustass! Is this you?!”

“(Y/N)? What-”

“I know you said you're working late, but please, I need you to come to the cafe.”

“Are you okay? What’s going on?” Your breathing becomes ragged.

“It’s hard to explain, but I don’t feel safe right now and-”

“I’ll be right there. Stay inside the cafe till I get there, alright?”

“Alright.”

“I’ll see you in five.”

“Okay.” the call ends, and you look at the security footage and set it to live.

~~~

Like he said, it took only five minutes before you heard his car pull up. You watched him park up front and get out of the car, and only then did you go back outside. “Thank god you're here, Eustass.”

“Yeah, so am I. What happened? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Follow me.” You wave your hand for him to follow. As you stop in front of your car, you hear Eustass exhale before running his fingers through his hair.

“Holy shit, is this your car?” Nodding, you look at it with heartache.

“It was my car. But some hooded figure vandalized it while I was closing up shop. I couldn’t see their face or anything. What’s worse is that after they trashed it, they stared at the camera for a minute or two before leaving. They had a knife to slash my tires, and when they looked in the camera, they made sure I could see it.” Crossing your arms, you sigh as you think about it all.

“I didn’t even know you got your license. So this is a bigger shock than I originally thought.”

“I just don’t understand. Who have I done wrong to deserve this? Not to mention, I had just bought this car yesterday!”

“Maybe it was a case of the wrong car?”

“No one has a car like mine. At least that I work with.”

“How about you call the cops and have them check it?”

“That’s not a bad idea. But can you stay here until they come? I’m not sure I feel safe being alone…”

“Yeah, of course.”

~~~

Despite the cops taking forever to arrive, they managed to tow your car to the station as they took your story and the security footage. You gave them your number, and they said they’d contact you with any updates. This left you now in the passenger seat of Eustass’s car with a bag of McDonald's chicken nugget meal and a shake, taking a fry from the bag every once in a while.

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen someone look so depressed eating fries.” Eustass chuckles, trying to lighten the mood. “Do they taste bad?”

“They taste like 3,000 dollars down the drain.”

“Not very salty?”

Grabbing another fry from the bag, you pop it into your mouth. “No.” Laying your head down on the window, your eyes follow the street lights. “Thanks for taking me to get chicken nuggets and driving me home.”

“No problem. It’s been a day for you.” The tense silence was as overwhelming as the elephant in the room, suffocating.

“I got a dog.”

“Oh? I thought the place didn’t allow animals?”

“I moved a month after you left. Bigger place and allows animals.”

“What kind of dog?”

“It’s a pittie I found eating out of my trash can.” You couldn’t help the small chuckle that left your lips.

“Probably smelled all the beef jerky wrappers and thought they were in for a snack. What’s their name?”

“Rocky.”

“Of course, you named them Rocky.” The two of you begin to argue playfully as you approach you and Law’s apartment. It felt nostalgic almost. Sitting in the car talking and arguing about whatever. But even if it felt nice to talk, the thought of Law and the way he looks at you has overtaken the spot in your heart the Eustass once owned.

As you once again enter the apartment's parking lot, a sigh left your lips. “Well, we’re here. Thanks again for staying with me and driving me home once again during all that.”

“It’s fine, I promise. I’ll see you sometime…?”

“Yeah…see you sometime.” Leaving Eustass’s car, you make your descent up the stairs.

Throwing his head back, Eustass stares up at the roof of his car. “Can’t believe I fucked it all up.” He sighs. Looking at your shared apartment with Law, Eustass rubs his eyes from the tears that threatened to spill. “Treat her better than I did, Law.”

~~~

Parking in his spot, Law gets out of his car and is finally ready to be home after such a long day. Looking around, he notices your car isn’t anywhere to be seen. Were you still out? Law scratched his head before walking upstairs.

As he unlocked the door, he heard cries and saw your shoes on the shoe rack. You were home but crying, and without the car, you were so excited about. Slowly closing the door, Law listened to your cries. It led him into the living room, where he saw you crying. A case of chicken nuggets was open, and a half-drank shake was on the coffee table. Tissues were overflowing the trash can.

“(Y/N)?” Taking a simple step, he sees the mascara running down your face. “Are you okay?”

“No! I’m not okay!” Plopping a nugget into your mouth while you sniffled. “My car got vandalized to the point I can’t drive it! I haven’t even had it for a full twenty-four hours!”

Law’s eyes widened at your words. “What? What do you mean vandalized?”

“My tires were slashed, windows busted, the side of my car carved with horrible names, and my mirrors and headlights smashed! Everything was destroyed!” Letting out a hiccup, you take a sip of your shake. “Then I fucking saw Eustass today, so that was perfect!” You huff.

“Really? Odd. I had (.....) at the ER today. That was a whole ordeal.-”

“That’s when I tried to call you and Killer. Neither of you answered, so I had to call Eustass to pick me up and bring me home!”

“I’m sorry (Y/N) if I had known…”

You sigh. “It's not your fault. It was just an awkward and horrible day.” Law looks at your form. He hasn’t seen you so distraught since the first day he took you to his place to stay.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Law looks at you. “Do you…want a hug?”

Nodding, you get up from your cocoon of blankets off the couch. “Yeah.” You wrap your arms around Law’s frame and begin to cry into his clothes. Wrapping his arms around you, Law delicately places his chin on your head. “It’s not fair.”

“Not it’s not. But I'm sure the police will find the asshole that did it.” Law tried to reassure you.

“I tried to check the camera at the cafe, but there was a hooded figure with a knife. They even looked into the camera and made sure I could see it.” You let out a shaky breath and hold him closer. “How did they know it was mine? I was the only one closing, and no one was there with me. What would have happened if they decided to break in or wait for me to leave the store?”

Rubbing your back, Law tries to comfort your worries. “You're home now. Your home, and I’m here.” He swallows the lump in his throat. “I promise. I won’t let anything ever happen to you.”

“Thank you, Law.”

~~~

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#trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #one piece x reader

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estellan0vella · 14 days ago

Text

Love In Print│Bang Chan

Chapter Six: Serial Killer Eyes SS: 3 (ignore time stamps and dates) Word Count: 3.6 K Content Warnings: self strangulation joke

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Ayame sits at her desk, the warm glow of her desk lamp casting long shadows across the piles of paperwork she's been slowly attacking all day. The office is eerily quiet now, most of the staff long gone, leaving only the faint hum of the printer and the occasional soft click of a keyboard somewhere in the distance. She's halfway through signing off on yet another mind-numbing document when a familiar voice breaks the silence.

"Still going on your date?"

She looks up, startled out of her focus, to find Chan leaning casually in the doorway. His tie is loosened, his sleeves rolled up to reveal his forearms, and his posture is relaxed, almost too relaxed, like he's been standing there for longer than she realized.

"Yep," she replies, clicking her pen shut and glancing at the clock. "I should probably get going, actually."

Chan steps further into the room, his gaze fixed on her. "You know," he starts, his tone conversational but with an edge that makes her pause, "you should kick things off by extolling the virtues of a mini skirt in a professional work environment. Always a hit."

Ayame sets her pen down deliberately, fixing him with a deadpan stare. "I was thinking of starting with, 'I'm not wearing any panties.' Do guys like that?"

The room seems to hold its breath. Chan's relaxed demeanour falters for just a split second, his hand automatically tugging at his loosened tie. His ears turn a faint shade of red, though his face remains frustratingly unreadable.

When he speaks, his voice is calm, but there's a tautness to it now. "Not my area of expertise."

Ayame smirks, slinging her bag over her shoulder as she breezes past him toward the door. "Good to know."

Chan falls into step beside her as they head toward the elevator. The silence stretches between them, broken only by the steady click of her heels against the tiled floor. They step into the elevator together, and the doors slide shut with a soft ding, sealing them in.

"You need a ride to the shisha bar?" Chan asks after a moment, his tone casual but his gaze sharp as he looks at her out of the corner of his eye.

Ayame shakes her head, her eyes fixed on the glowing numbers above the door. "No, I'll walk."

"It's pouring," Chan points out, the faintest trace of amusement slipping into his voice. "Wouldn't want your makeup to smear after you wasted 22 minutes of your workday fixing it in the bathroom."

Ayame spins to face him, her expression sharp as her heels click against the floor. She tilts her head up, meeting his gaze head-on. "Has anyone ever told you that you have stalker-like tendencies?"

Chan leans back slightly, smirking. "Says the woman with serial killer eyes."

She doesn't miss a beat. "The serial killer eyes are only for you."

Her words hang in the air, heavy and electric. For a moment, neither of them moves, the tension crackling between them like a live wire. Then, without warning, Chan reaches out and presses the emergency stop button. The elevator jolts to a halt, and a faint buzzing alarm fills the space.

"What are we doing?" Chan's voice is quieter now, low and rough, and it cuts through the buzz like a knife. He's standing close now, closer than she's used to, his dark eyes boring into hers. "This whole... thing. What the fuck are we doing?"

Ayame blinks, caught off guard. "What do you mean?"

"This," Chan says, gesturing between them, his voice laced with frustration. "This schoolyard game we play every day. The bullshit banter, the insults, the-" He trails off, his jaw tightening.

Ayame crosses her arms, her tone sharp as she cuts him off. "You mean the game where we hate each other?"

"Do you really hate me?" he asks, his voice softening, but there's something raw in it now, something that makes her chest tighten.

She doesn't answer. She doesn't think. Instead, she steps forward, her hand reaching up to cup the back of his neck as she pulls him down into a kiss. It's bold, impulsive, and anything but gentle.

For a moment, Chan freezes. Then his hands are on her waist, gripping tightly as he pulls her closer. When she starts to pull back, he moves faster, spinning her and pinning her against the cool metal wall of the elevator.

His hands slide down to her thighs, lifting her effortlessly as her legs wrap instinctively around his waist. His lips press against hers again, rough and demanding, leaving no room for hesitation.

Ayame's fingers tangle in his hair, a low moan escaping her lips as his mouth moves to her neck, biting and kissing the sensitive skin there. His breath is hot against her as he murmurs something she can't quite make out, his grip on her thighs tightening as if he's afraid to let go.

The moment shatters when a voice crackles through the elevator's speaker. "Uh, is everything okay in there? Elevator's stopped."

Chan stills, his forehead pressing against hers for a moment as he exhales sharply. His voice is steady when he calls out, "Sorry. Just bumped the button."

There's a pause before the voice responds. "Alright, resuming service now."

The elevator jolts, and Ayame feels herself being lowered back to the ground as Chan sets her down gently. His hands linger on her hips, the warmth of his touch burning through the fabric, before he finally steps back.

Ayame turns to the mirrored wall, her fingers smoothing her hair as she avoids looking at his reflection. Her lips are swollen, her breathing uneven, but her face remains calm. At least outwardly. She presses the back of her hand to her mouth, trying to ignore the way her pulse is still hammering.

Chan adjusts his tie, his movements slow and deliberate as the elevator continues its descent. He glances at her once, his expression unreadable, before leaning back against the wall.

Neither of them speaks as the elevator dings and the doors slide open, the silence between them heavy with everything they didn't say.

Ayame slides into Chan's car, her movements sharp and deliberate. Her expression is a carefully constructed mask of indifference, but the tension radiating off her is palpable. She yanks the seatbelt across her body, the click of it locking into place echoing in the small space. Outside, the rain pounds against the windows, a relentless rhythm that only amplifies the silence inside the car.

Chan doesn't start the car immediately. His hands grip the steering wheel tightly, the leather creaking faintly under the pressure. He clears his throat, his tone clipped. "So, am I taking you home, or...?"

"No," Ayame snaps, crossing her arms over her chest as she stares out the rain-streaked window. "I still have to meet Seonghwa."

Chan glances at her, his brow furrowing. "What the hell are you talking about?"

She whips her head around to glare at him, her voice biting. "My date, Chan. The one you're driving me to, remember?"

His jaw tightens, the muscle ticking as he grips the wheel harder. "Seonghwa? Really?"

"Yes, really." Ayame's voice rises, sharp and unrelenting. "What's your fucking problem?"

Chan exhales sharply through his nose, his eyes fixed on the road ahead as he shifts into drive. "Nothing. You could do better, that's all."

Ayame lets out a disbelieving laugh, shaking her head. "Unbelievable. Pull over."

Chan's knuckles go white on the wheel. "We're literally a block from the bar. Can you just—"

"I don't want to be in this car with you for another second," Ayame cuts him off, unbuckling her seatbelt. "Pull over."

With a heavy sigh, Chan swerves to the curb, the tires splashing through a shallow puddle. The rain is coming down harder now, a relentless sheet of water pounding against the windshield. Ayame throws the door open and steps out without hesitation, the downpour soaking her within seconds.

"Ayame, wait!" Chan shouts after her, his voice laced with frustration and something else. Something he can't or won't name. But she's already halfway down the street, her heels clicking against the wet pavement as her silhouette fades into the rain.

Chan slams his hands against the steering wheel, the loud thud reverberating through the car. "Fucking hell," he mutters, his voice low and sharp. He leans back against the headrest, closing his eyes briefly as he drags a hand down his face. The rain doesn't let up, the rhythmic pounding drowning out everything else.

When he opens his eyes, his gaze lands on the passenger seat. Ayame's handbag sits there, forgotten in her haste to escape him. He groans, leaning over to grab it. "Seriously?" he mutters under his breath, his annoyance growing.

His fingers brush against the edge of the bag, and something catches his attention—a folder sticking out just slightly. Curiosity and frustration war with each other as he hesitates, but his hand moves before he can stop himself. He pulls the folder out and flips it open, his eyes scanning the contents.

His stomach drops.

Inside are application forms and polished cover letters addressed to some of the biggest publishing houses in Seoul. The dates on the forms are recent, painfully recent. Chan's fingers tighten around the folder as realization crashes over him like a tidal wave.

She's already planning to leave.

She thinks she's going to lose.

She thinks he'd actually hold her to that stupid fucking deal.

Chan stares at the neatly printed forms, the weight of her decision settling heavily in his chest. The folder feels heavier than it should, its contents a glaring confirmation of something he hadn't wanted to admit: Ayame is already halfway out the door.

He closes the folder with a soft thud, placing it back in her bag carefully, almost reverently. The fight from earlier seems inconsequential now, replaced by a gnawing sense of guilt and something uncomfortably close to regret.

The rain continues to batter against the car, the sound relentless and isolating. Chan sits in silence, his fingers tapping absently against the steering wheel as his mind churns. He glances out the windshield at the rain-soaked street, the wipers sliding back and forth in a futile attempt to clear the view.

He exhales deeply, his breath fogging the window slightly. "What the fuck are you doing, Chan?" he mutters to himself, running a hand through his damp hair.

The sound of the rain fills the car, loud and endless, drowning out every thought he doesn't want to face.

Ayame pushes open the door of the shisha bar, the warm, smoky air hitting her like a welcome embrace after the bone-chilling downpour outside. The scent of spiced tobacco lingers in the air, mingling with faint traces of leather and whiskey. She shakes out her coat, rainwater splattering onto the floor, her damp hair clinging stubbornly to her cheeks and neck. Her skirt clings to her thighs, and her Louboutins are soaked, but at least she's out of the deluge.

Seonghwa spots her immediately, standing near the bar with his hair perfectly styled, not a strand out of place. His navy blazer fits him like it was tailored that morning, and his white shirt is crisp and dry, mocking the chaos she's just endured. He's holding up two stools, flashing her a smile that could charm a nun. "Korea rain is no joke, huh?"

Ayame huffs as she plops onto the stool next to him. "It's not rain, it's a fucking ocean falling from the sky. I feel like a drowned rat."

Seonghwa laughs, his grin softening as he looks her over. "Well, you look good wet."

She freezes mid-reach for a napkin, her eyebrow arching as she turns to him. "Oh, do I?"

His face flushes pink, and he stumbles over his words, his hands flying up in surrender. "I mean, like, you look beautiful no matter what. The rain doesn't ruin you. Not that you could be ruined. Shit. I'm terrible at this."

Ayame lets out a genuine laugh, leaning her elbows on the counter as she shakes her head. "Relax, Seonghwa. You're not auditioning for a rom-com."

He chuckles awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck as she flags down the bartender. "Whiskey. Strongest you've got. Neat."

The bartender nods, and Seonghwa hesitates before muttering, "A Shirley Temple, please."

Ayame turns to him slowly, her eyebrow quirking again. "A Shirley Temple? Seriously?"

He shrugs, unapologetic. "What? I don't drink. I've told you this."

"Right," she says, her tone dripping with mock seriousness. "Big bad graphic designer can't handle his booze."

"Hey, don't knock it," Seonghwa says, his grin returning as he adjusts his blazer. "It's a classic."

As they wait for their drinks, Ayame's eyes wander the room. The warm, dim lighting makes the bar feel intimate, almost cosy, but something on the counter near the register catches her attention. A copy of Stripping Time. The god-awful cover gleams under the muted light, the woman in lingerie staring back at her with dead eyes and an even deader inside joke.

She gestures toward it with her glass. "What do you think?"

Seonghwa follows her gaze, his lips twitching as he picks up the book. He flips it over, scanning the blurb on the back. "You know how they say, 'Don't judge a book by its cover?'" He lets out a soft snort. "In this case, the cover and the story are equally terrible."

Ayame's hand tightens around her glass, her smile faltering for just a second. She'd liked the book, more than liked it. She respected its boldness, its creativity. "Yeah," she says, forcing a laugh. "It's a masterpiece of disaster."

Seonghwa chuckles, setting the book back on the counter. "The kind of thing you'd read just to see how bad it can get."

The bartender slides their drinks over, and Seonghwa raises his Shirley Temple in a mock toast, the maraschino cherry bouncing slightly with the motion. "To surviving biblical floods and even worse book covers."

Ayame lifts her whiskey, the amber liquid catching the light as she clinks her glass against his. "To bad books and even worse decisions."

She takes a sip, the warmth spreading through her chest, and lets out a soft sigh. Seonghwa drinks his Shirley Temple with exaggerated flair, smacking his lips obnoxiously.

Ayame rises from her seat, offering Seonghwa a smile. "Excuse me for a second. I'm going to dry off in the bathroom."

Seonghwa nods, his grin as easy as ever as he stirs the cherry in his Shirley Temple. "Take your time. I'll guard the drinks."

She turns, weaving through the warm, smoky haze of the shisha bar, her heels clicking rhythmically against the wooden floor. The dim hallway leading to the restroom feels quieter, the chatter and clinking glasses from the bar fading into the background. She's halfway to the bathroom when she rounds a corner and collides with someone.

"What the fuck?" Ayame mutters, stumbling slightly. She looks up, irritation simmering, only to find herself face-to-face with Chan.

He looks just as surprised, his dark eyes wide for a fraction of a second before his expression smooths into the maddening calmness she's come to expect from him. His damp shirt clings to his chest, and a single droplet of rainwater trails down his temple, catching the dim light.

"Hey," he says, his voice low and steady, though there's something unreadable in his tone. "You alright?"

Ayame exhales sharply, brushing past him toward the bathroom. "I'm fine. What the hell are you doing here?"

He doesn't immediately answer, but she hears the faint rustle of his sleeves as he adjusts them and falls into step behind her. "You left your handbag in my car."

She stops abruptly, spinning around so fast that Chan nearly walks into her. He's holding her bag in one hand, the other shoved into the pocket of his slacks. His expression is neutral, but his posture is taut, like he's bracing for a storm.

Ayame snatches the bag from him, clutching it tightly against her chest as though it's a lifeline. "You win, Chan," she snaps, her voice low but laced with venom.

His brow furrows. "What are you talking about?"

"This," she spits, waving a hand between them, her fingers trembling slightly. "This ridiculous fucking game we play. You win. You've officially mindfucked me. I kissed you when I should've slapped your smug face. So congratulations, Chan. Fucking bravo. It's been a banner day for you."

Chan's jaw tightens, the muscle ticking as he takes a step closer. His voice is quiet, but there's an edge to it. "What do you think this is, Ayame? Some kind of competition?"

Her laugh is sharp, bitter, and it echoes down the hallway. "Isn't it? That's all we do, Chan. Compete. Push each other's buttons until one of us snaps. Well, here it is, I'm snapped."

Chan stares at her for a moment, his gaze flicking between her eyes like he's searching for something. When he speaks, his voice is softer but no less frustrated. "I made a mistake, okay? I shouldn't have kissed you like that. And if you want to report me to HR or-"

"HR?" Ayame interrupts, incredulous. Her grip on her bag tightens, her knuckles white. "That's what you're worried about? Filing a fucking HR complaint?"

Chan's shoulders stiffen, but she barrels on, her voice rising. "You don't get it, do you? A man just called me beautiful, and my first thought was to assume he was fucking with me. That's where I'm at, Chan. That's what this stupid mess has done to me. I can't even take a goddamn compliment without second-guessing it. Do you know how fucked that is?"

Chan's mouth opens like he's about to argue, but no words come out. His fingers flex at his sides, his frustration evident in the furrow of his brow and the way his gaze keeps darting away, like he doesn't know where to look.

"I'm done, Chan," Ayame says, her voice shaking now, though she holds his gaze with a fire that burns through the tears threatening to form. "Whatever this is, it's done enough damage. I'm asking you, begging you, to just leave me the hell alone. Go home."

"Ayame, I-" Chan's voice falters, the words dying in his throat as she steps back.

But Ayame doesn't give him a chance to finish. She spins on her heel, her damp hair whipping against her cheek as she storms into the bathroom, the door slamming shut behind her. The echo reverberates through the hallway, leaving Chan standing alone in the dim light, the faint hum of the shisha bar distant and muffled.

For a long moment, he doesn't move. His hand rises as if to run through his hair, but it drops halfway, his fingers curling into a fist. He exhales sharply, the sound almost a growl, and turns toward the exit. The hallway feels colder now, emptier, but the fire in Ayame's eyes is seared into his mind, refusing to fade.

Ayame strides back into the bar, her Louboutins clicking against the floor, the tension in her shoulders visible even in the dim, smoky light. She doesn't waste a second, walking straight to the bar and grabbing her glass of whiskey.

Without hesitation, she downs it in one go, the fiery burn clawing its way down her throat a welcome distraction from the storm still raging in her chest. She slams the empty glass down and signals to the bartender for another, her fingers drumming impatiently against the counter.

Seonghwa raises an eyebrow, his grin unsure as he watches her from his seat. "Uh, cheers?"

She finally slides into the stool next to him, her expression unreadable as she rests her elbow on the bar, her other hand loosely gripping the empty glass. Her silence is heavy, filling the space between them until the bartender sets another drink in front of her.

"Thanks," Ayame mutters, her voice low as she takes the glass and stares into the amber liquid like it holds all the answers to her fucked-up night.

Seonghwa shifts closer, his brows knitting together in faint concern. "Hey, uh, did I just see Chan in the hallway?"

Ayame doesn't look up, her lips curving into a humourless smile as she swirls the whiskey in her glass. "Oh, yeah. He was just here to drop something off. I left my handbag at the office." She waves a hand dismissively. "But don't worry. He's gone."

Seonghwa's eyes linger on her, his curiosity evident. "Huh. Okay. But, uh..." He hesitates before leaning a little closer, his voice dropping conspiratorially. "Are you and Chan, like, a thing? There's a vibe."

Ayame's head snaps up, her tone sharp as she replies, "Nope." She takes a long sip of her drink, letting the burn settle in her chest before she continues. "No vibe. Zero vibe. Whatever vibe you think you saw? It's imaginary. Doesn't exist."

"Got it," Seonghwa says quickly, holding his hands up in mock surrender. But there's a playful glint in his eyes as he leans back in his seat. "So, this is a real date, then. No baggage, no weird unresolved tension with certain broody executive assistants?"

Ayame forces a light laugh, though it sounds brittle even to her own ears. "Sure," she says, her voice brighter now, almost convincing. "Real date. No weirdness."

The bartender drops a shisha menu on the counter, and Ayame seizes the opportunity to steer the conversation away from dangerous territory. "What flavour are we getting? You pick."

Seonghwa grins, flipping through the menu with exaggerated deliberation. "Something bold," he muses, dragging out the moment. "How do you feel about double apple? Classic."

Ayame shrugs, picking up the shisha hose and taking a deep pull from the one already on the bar. The sweet, fruity smoke curls lazily around her as she exhales, the motion calm and measured despite the turbulence in her chest.

"Double apple's fine," she says, her tone smooth but distant. Her eyes flick toward the door for just a second, as if expecting Chan to reappear, but she quickly pulls her gaze back to Seonghwa, forcing her focus onto his wide grin.

He raises his glass, the cherry bobbing in his drink. "To double apple and not letting the rain ruin the vibe."

Ayame lifts her glass, her lips curving into a small smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. "Cheers to that."

They clink glasses, and Seonghwa launches into a story about a design project gone hilariously wrong, his laughter loud and unrestrained. Ayame nods along, chuckling in all the right places, but her mind drifts back to the hallway, to the burning heat in Chan's eyes and the soft gravel of his voice when he said her name.

No vibe, she thinks to herself, forcing another laugh at Seonghwa's joke. No fucking vibe.

Taglist: @fackeraccount @ot8girlfie @nightmarenyxx @reimaybeidk

@ismelllikechlorine247 @drewsandsebastianswife @my-neurodivergent-world @rhonnie23 @hanji-coffee

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your-nanas-house · 1 year ago

Note

LOVE UR PAGE SMMM😭

if you feel like/have time would you be down to write something abt Jerome and a psychiatrist reader?

if you don't like the idea or anything just ignore this :))

AWWWW THANK YOU! for the compliments and the request. I really miss our Romie 🥺 he isn't as famous as he used to be lately. Our poor baby 😭 Sorry if it took me so long, dear.

Just a kiss for Christmas

◇ Pairing: Jerome Valeska X psychiatrist!Reader

◇ Warnings: fluff, Jerome Valeska..we know how our lovely crazy ginger is, kiss, unexpected touch, flirting.

◇ Summary: Jerome is locked in Arkham but he still wants a Christmas gift.

◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English. Credits to the owners of the pictures.

Finally after the last patrol of the guards, two stopped in front of Jerome's cell who was waiting impatiently in front of his door, his hazel eyes carefully observing whoever passed in the corridor.

He was adorable, despite being a known and feared serial killer, with a childish but sadistic personality.

He really looked eager and excited that day, maybe for the upcoming festivity or the session he was about to have with his psychiatrist— a she psychiatrist, like Jerome kept pointing out at every patience there.

Miss Y/l/n, a young psychiatrist that was pretty good at her job, treating everyone with respect and professionalism even in a madhouse like that.

In all his staying, the ginger never felt the want or need to see a doc there but everything was different with his Y/n. He was kind of smitten, to not say obsessed.

That's why he was so excited to go on Christmas Eve for a session with her, thus spending an hour alone in the room talking about himself while sneakily trying to hit on her, even though it never worked. But a man had his needs, hadn't he?

His pace was fast as he walked, carrying with him his diary, holding it tightly in his strong big hands till they finally arrived at their destination.

The door slowly opened, allowing him to step in and sit innocently at the table, handcuffs still around his wrists and ankles— he looked like an innocent child in that moment, just waiting with a puppy face that broke as soon as Y/n moved closer to the table

“Why are you acting like that, Jerome?” she asked, not managing to hold back her own smile while she sat down in front of him

“Nothing, doll…I mean Doc” he replied smoothly, a smirk slowly creeping on his scared face.

His gloved hands kept resting on the table, his eyes never leaving hers as he moved his fingers tapping the surface there.

After the session, which went pretty good, almost too good…Y/n took a moment to look at him for a couple of seconds, just staying in silence— just waiting for something to happen, to understand the reason for Jerome's weird behavior.

“So?” The beautiful psychiatrist asked, leaning closer to him, allowing her arms to rest on the table that way— her eyes still scanning his freckled face

“So what, Doc?” Jerome replied smugly, moving carefully his hands to search something in his pockets while she was still studying him

“What's on your mind, huh? Searching for another reward since you were such a good boy?” She asked in a soft but teasing voice.

Well, it was actually like that.

Jerome pulled quickly out what looked like a broken mistletoe and moved it between them as best he could, letting her hold it above their heads for him

“Been a good boy all week, doll. Lil'ol’ me isn't on ya naughty list this year” he murmured, smiling slowly with his scared lips, his smile big and almost scary for someone who wasn't used to it.

He received no response for a couple of minutes, his psychiatrist just kept watching him with a serious expression before finally cracking and nod

“You've been pretty good, yes…guess you really earned this Christmas gift, huh?” She murmured, mostly to herself before she leaned closer.

Jerome did the same as soon as she saw her lean in, he was still tied but he managed to connect their lips in a french kiss, slipping his tongue as best he could in her mouth to taste her— his handcuffed hands cupping her clothed breasts when she was focused on returning the forceful kiss.

“Jerome! Should have expected it…still a naughty man with a puppy tricky face” she joked softly, not really made at his childish antics.

Taglist:

@gabile18 , @mrsfullbuster500 , @rex-ray , @elizamalfoyy, @eovjjj @wife-of-magic-monkeys , @jeremiah-va1eska , @gothamchic16, @rabbiteggz , @dieg0brandos-wife , @rottenecstasy , @lazyexcuse , @teh-vampire-bunny, @lobotomy-lover , @slasher-smasher, @sleepycreativewriter

#gotham #gotham tv #gotham x reader #jerome valeska #jerome valeska x you #jerome valeska x reader #jerome x reader #jerome imagine #jerome valeska imagines #gotham jerome #jerome valeska imagine #cameron monaghan

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whosthere54 · 4 months ago

Text

So I need to yell more about Ajax and Rayko so here have this. I had to write about them. I’m going to write even more about them but this is my first thoughts so here take it /lh.

TWs for this are the same as the lore - which is yelling, panic, and violence. I will also say death as a TW for this but if you watched the stream you should be fine. Take care of yourselves <3

“I hope you found what you were looking for 'cause all the pain I carry in my soul is all because you left me here alone” - Song: God’s not home by TROY

Or - A brother’s ending.

The brothers stopped in a clearing, panting as they’d been running for probably too long to be healthy.

“Ajax- Ajax look away. Ajax I’m gonna need you to look away okay?” Rayko turns to his younger brother, brushing his hair from his face as he checks his inventory for anything *else* he could use.

Ajax looks up at him confused. “I- wha- Ray?”

He doesn’t look up as he speaks again. “Just look away kiddo it’s okay, we’re gonna be okay.”

The shadow of a person moved closer, all Ajax could pay attention to was their heart pounding in their ears so fast it made their head hurt.

“Go-go ‘Jax. C'mon- go hide over there for me, okay?” Rayko was kneeled in front of them, hands placed on their shoulders as he spoke. He continues to glance behind the two, bow and arrow in hand and quiver only half full.

“Wha… Rayko-“ Ajax tries- he doesn’t want to leave him again. He wants to help! He can help-

“Now Ajax!” Rayko says sharply, and they flinch.

“I- fine- okay!”

They nod and Rayko pushes them, turning to stand up and nocking an arrow. Rayko looks over at them one last time with a sad smile.

“Just close your eyes and put your hands over your ears alright? Just like last time I showed you- remember?”

They let out a shaky breath and nodded, running out of the clearing and through a few trees. They’re able to hide as the footsteps grow closer, finding a hole inside of a charred and dead tree that they could move the branches in front of so they wouldn’t be seen.

They leave just enough space to be able to see their brother. He pulls his bow back and shoots the figure as they break through the clearing. His bow isn’t enough, and the figure easily is able to knock him down and put their sword through Rayko’s shoulder.

Ajax shuts their eyes tightly after that, curling up inside the tree with their knees pulled tight to their chest and hand over their mouth as their brother yells out in pain. They can hear him struggle for a minute before there’s silence- but the silence is *so so loud*.

The birdsong went silent, the birds having flown away at the first scream. The only sound they could hear was the wind shaking the leaves as it moved through the trees.

They stay in that tree for- they don’t really know how long after that. Their breathing shakes as they keep trying to get it under control, and their senses are heightened to the point that they jump at every step an animal takes nearby.

They’re able to pull themself together just before the sun peeks through the leaves, double-checking their materials before exiting the alcove in silence.

They’ll have to win without Rayko then- they can do that. They’ve done it before- and he came back the next game.

They ignore the voice in the back of their head saying what if he doesn’t come back. What if he’s gone and you’re alone and and and-

They take another breath before starting their way back through the Forest.

—=+=—

This was stupid- it was.

They felt like a kid again, trying desperately not to cry for whatever number this time was that his brother had gotten killed.

-Rayko was slain by red using [[Server killer lite]]-

Their sanity wasn’t helping, whispers mingling with the things getting glitchy and messed up and confusing- Why won’t they go away?

They muffle a quiet sob- quickly composing themself voice only shaking slightly when they speak again.

“How many lives do you even have?” They say it sharply, wincing almost at the sound of their own voice. Anger was easy. They knew how to be angry- they knew how to fuel anger they knew it- they *understood* it. This was different. They don’t like it- they don’t like how it makes their chest and head *hurt* they don’t like how their eyes hurt from them holding back tears they don’t like that their voice shakes even when they try to go back to anger.

They hate that they *know* it’s not working. They hate that Emmie and Red and *Rayko* know. They hate that they sound weak- whimpering and crying like a pathetic injured animal and they hide and corner themself in this enclosed space that they deem warm and safe as it raises their sanity.

“Seven. I won’t even be able to lose them all like this but I can help you guys get better.”

They *hate* that Rayko answers so calmly. Like it doesn’t hurt him that he’s getting killed over and over in such a short span of time. (Maybe he got used to it- but if that’s the case then *why haven’t they-*)

“Glad to see you at least give a tiny shit about us.” They try to be angry- and it works. It works but it doesn’t *keep* working- it works but then it doesn’t.

-Someone’s behind me-

They let out a shaky breath, holding the small plastic replica head you get every kill before moving it to their inventory so they don’t have to fucking look at it-

“C’mon Emmie.” Rayko tries.

“I don’t- I don’t want to.” She shakes her head with a frown.

“I want you to rank higher in the game.” Rayko repeats softly.

“I don’t fucking care about *ranking* Rayko. I’ve done this for fucking eight seasons now- I’ve won twice it doesn’t matter. I’ve *tried* throwing I’ve tried everything to get out of this. I’m- I’m *so happy* you’re getting out, okay? I need you- I need you to get out. Okay? But I won’t- I will not kill you over this. I don’t care anymore. I haven’t *cared* since- I don’t know, the computer? I just keep coming back here and I keep trying because Ajax and Ronnie are here. I- when you get to where you’re going just… be happy and be free but I’m not gonna kill you. Okay?” Emmie’s voice breaks as she talks, and the things get so much louder.

-The voices… I can’t…-

They have to look away from the shadows in the corner of their vision as their sanity stays too low. They move so they can see Rayko and Emmie again, their voice coming out too angry and too sharp.

“No- just kill him. It doesn’t matter anyway.” They feel bad immediately when Emmie and Rayko look at him, tears streaming down both their faces.

“I’m sorry… but you should.” This time they just sound defeated- and that’s almost worse.

“I don’t know… it’s been really fun being able to hang out and do this with you though.” Emmie says softly as she turns back to Rayko.

They feel like they’re in the void again.

-Don’t space out-

They feel like they’re in the void again and *fuck* they can’t focus. Their sanity probably has something to do with it but they just can’t- though at the same time they can’t look away either.

They watch Rayko give Emmie his armor… tears in his eyes as he pretends to provoke Red only for Red to kill him in one hit.

-What a strange feeling.-

They look away, a shaky breath escaping their lips as they pace on the carpet a bit again. Before pulling their sword out. They pass it between their hands for a moment, lightly spinning it in their grip as they steel their expression again.

They walk out to the edge of the island where their bridge connects, blocking Rayko from being able to get up. It’s easier when they’re numb. Anger can do that- it makes everything easier.

“C’mon…”

Rayko looks at them for a moment, before they sigh. “Fine just… just get on the island.”

Rayko stands across from them, arms open so his chest is unprotected. They run up easily, killing him in one hit. They hold their bloody sword in their hand, eyes cast to the ground again as Rayko asks Emmie once more to take two more of his lives.

“It really doesn’t feel right, I don’t know…”

“Just do it.” They mumble sharply.

Emmie looks at him sadly- pity or concern held in her gaze they don’t know.

-What’s there?-

They go back into the little mushroom house, standing close to the fires for barely a moment before heading back out and speaking again.

“He wouldn’t want to take us anyway.”

Rayko looks at him again but this time there’s a sense of betrayal in his gaze, and he looks at them in a way that makes their skin crawl.

“Yes, I would! I would *love* for you to get to meet them. I would love to show you the house that we have. I would love for you to get to show cash your machines- I would love for Fang to get to meet you- I would love for Xiphos and Emmie to get to go swimming. I would love nothing more.”

Rayko’s voice breaks more and more and he says this, and Ajax can’t. They put their sword away.

“Because this place is always fucking worse! At least other places it was just… I don’t know… silly games. Or… it used to be stuff like that. It used to be silly games and fun things and then when we got older it became *death* and *murder* and *torture* and *violence* and me watching my little brother *die* again and again and I don’t wanna be here anymore Ajax!” His voice progressively breaks more and more as he says this, tears streaming down his face as he yells the last bit.

They can’t. They look away from him again, quickly wiping tears away before looking back at their brother. They hate that this is the time they realize how much they *fucking missed him.*

“I just… I thought I had you back. That’s it, that’s all.” Their voice breaks as they try not to cry- they can’t not hear. Not when all of them are looking at him they can’t-

“I wanna be back. But I also know that I’m not as good at this as you are. You’re really good at this, you’re really good at these games I don’t want you to have to be good but I’m *not.*”

He breathes shakily for a moment, before stepping towards Ajax again.

“Do you wanna go instead if we could try someone else going-“

Ajax shakes his head and Rayko stops.

“I have nothing over there. I barely have anything here but I have… something. There’s nothing for me over there.” They look at Emmie for a moment before turning back to Rayko. Emmie moves next to him- not touching but keeping a close proximity of comfort that they extremely appreciate.

They look away when Emmie kills him next.

-Rayko was slain by Emmie-

They exhale shakily, looking back up when he respawns back. Emmie frowns turning to them when Ronnie sends a message in chat to make fun of her- and they quickly type back telling him to shut up.

They look away on the last couple of hits as Emmie takes the last kill.

“So now you just go?” God they hate the way their voice shakes.

Rayko looks at them sadly and turns to dig through his stuff. “I um… I should make sure everything is out of my bags. Um… we can go home and put everything away for you all.”

They set up a portal back home and they’re the last one to go through.

Ajax can’t do anything while Rayko puts away all his stuff. They can’t bring themself to move, just watching him run around the base putting all his belongings away to make it easier for them.

Emmie moves just so she can block their line of vision to Rayko.

“You okay?” She asks softly, and they can’t lie to her. They shake their head, quickly wiping tears from their eyes and Emmie lightly moves his hands, replacing them with hers to gently wipe some of the rapidly falling tears. She pulls them into a hug, wings and tail wrapping around them protectively and they rest their forehead on her shoulder. She nuzzles his hair lightly before pulling away, and they stay close as Rayko finishes everything he needs.

Red looks at them from across the room, head tilted just slightly as if to ask a silent question. They nod, giving it a weak smile. Red nods back, and both turn back to Rayko.

Surprisingly Red is the one to speak first. “Before you go. I’m glad you’re getting out. I… I’ve had other people I care about get out of here. So I’m glad you’re able to. You go… be amazing.”

Rayko laughs softly. “Yeah. Thank you, Red.”

Emmie speaks next. “You go live your best life out there and never have to touch blood and madness or any sort of subsection of stuff like that ever again. Go hug your partners for us.”

He smiles. “Mhm.”

He turns to Ajax and they let out a shaky breath.

“I… I’m glad I got to see you again.”

His expression crumbles slightly. “You too. Thank you.”

They shake their head and turn to grab the fist full of jam from the chest next to them.

“If you’re taking something with you…”

A series of sad laughs fill the room.

Rayko nods. “Okay��”

Emmie speaks again. “And I mean this in the greatest nicest way possible I hope I never see you again. Or if I do, it’s in greener pastures.”

Red nods. “I hope I never see you back *here* again.”

Emmie laughs softly and nods. “Yeah… that’s a better way to phrase it.”

Rayko nods. “Goodbye, all of you.”

“Bye.”

“Bye Rayko.”

He turns to them again, just looking at him a moment before speaking softly.

“Bye Ajax.” They say goodbye at the same time, and they breathe shakily with a nod.

They walk up and hug their older brother tightly. His wings wrap around the two of them easily. They stay like that for a moment, Rayko’s hand running through Ajax’s hair and Ajax gripping tightly to the back of Rayko’s shirt. Rayko pulls away first, he pulls away first, and they move back to their spot beside Emmie wiping away more tears.

“Good luck, all of you.” Rayko smiles softly.

“You too.”

Their eyes were shut tightly, but they opened them just as Rayko disappeared and it felt like they’ve watched him die all over again. They breathe shakily composing themself before turning to their teammates.

Gods the two were both looking at him- they can’t-

“Well, I uh- don’t know what to do now. Uh…”

They pause, glancing at the magic materials Rayko left behind. “Guess we have a lot of magic stuff to do yeah? Or something?” They laugh softly, and both of them nod.

Their eyes linger on the spot where Rayko vanished again. And they shake their head.

“I uh… I need a second if that’s okay…”

They both nod. “Yeah, take your time.” “Yeah yeah take your time Ajax.”

They nod, heading back into their machine room.

They sit on their bed, covering their face with their hands as they begin to cry, muffling the quiet sobs. It only lasts for a minute though, before they wipe their tears and shake their head again, just breathing shakily as they get it to stop.

“Get back up.” They run their hands through their hair. Quickly wiping more tears.

“Get back up. What’s even different yknow? You did this for how many years you can do it again.” They move so their back is settled against the machine behind them, legs still dangling over the edge of the bed. They wrap their arms around their torso as they try to console themself.

“It’s uh… it’s a death game. It’s a death game. You lose people anyway.” Their eyes fall on the lightning in a bottle Rayko gave them and a new wave of tears come that they have to wipe away. They move so they’re facing away from it.

“God there’s so much of… stuff.”

They pull their knees up so they hug them to their chest. “There’s so much to do…”

They laugh softly.

“It’s not a bad thing. It’s not a bad thing. Not a bad thing at all. Probably a better thing. I already spent enough hours in here- I can… what’s another week y’know?” They sigh heavily wiping their eyes again.

“…Fuck man.” They just sit and breathe for longer than they deem necessary. “I uh- I have to- I have to lay down. Uh… is that okay? Is that okay things?” They don’t know why they ask- they know that it doesn’t matter.

They lay down, and the things leave eventually.

They’re left in silence, and the silence is *so so loud.*

The sound left with the things, them all going off to do who knows what. The only sounds left are the crackling of campfires and their machines running behind them.

They stay in bed for- they don’t really know how long after that. Their breathing shakes as they keep trying to get it under control.

They’re able to pull themself together just before daylight, double-checking the materials left in their inventory before they get up again.

They’ll have to do this without Rayko then- they can do that. They’ve done it before- and they can do it again.

They ignore the voice in the back of their head saying what if everyone else leaves? What if they leave and you’re alone and and and-

(Nobody else will leave if they do this right. They can be useful- they can do this right. They can.)

They take another breath before going to check on their machines.

#te and also he #me when eod brothers.#I care so much #mmm #eod rayco #eod ajax #ajax zephyr #Rayco Zephyr #?#end of days #end of days smp #Maybe it’s me just writing some of what happened in the episode shhhhhhh.#I’m so normal #I shake them #and hold them so gently

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