#I almost feel bad about the trauma I’m putting him through | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

toxicanonymity · 1 year ago

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i need more raider joel more than i need air in my lungs

Night air.

3500 words, raider!Joel x f!reader | ✨gif

Raider master list ⭐ Joel master

reader-curated playlist | sweet pea (smut songs)

“‘s’too cold out here, sweet pea. put on a shirt, would ya?" Your heart flutters at the implicit invitation and you return with a flannel over your nightie. . . He makes room for you, but doesn’t take his eyes off the fire as he lets you climb into his lap. You study his face and see something new flickering behind it. Worry.

You want to ask him what’s wrong, but you don’t. "When are you gonna come to bed?” you ask instead.

SUMMARY: Joel brutalizes a bad guy, gives it to you hard, then works on something for you and gives it to you slow. His POV is revealing. WARNINGS: I8+, POV alternates, ANGST, Joel's trauma, overkill violence, dubcon (stockholm syndrome) unsafe P in V x2 (hard then soft), dark fluff, f masturbation, somnophilia, staying inside, NO Y/N. A/N: ty @milla-frenchy for Qs & recs 🖤

—--- JOEL——

Yeah, Joel killed two of his own men, and they had it coming. He caught them red handed on their way into your room in the stash house. It still makes his blood boil to think about. If they hadn’t walked into that room talking about you like a piece of meat, those two men would be alive. Joel would do it again in a heartbeat.

He’s not surprised when the others are shaken, but if they’re good men, they have nothing to worry about. When things remain tense longer than he expects, Joel rounds them up for a group meeting. He puts you in the usual room with his trusted guard Carter posted at the door. The meeting becomes heated.

“No one’s gonna be left at this rate,” one man barks. “They ain’t gonna say it,” he gestures behind him to the other men, “but I will. She shouldn’t be here.”

Joel’s voice raises with his blood pressure. He asks, “What’d you say to me, Harold?" as he stands up.

Louder, maybe loud enough for you to hear, Harold repeats, “She shouldn’t be here. It’s bound to happen.” Bound to happen? These low-lifes are bound to put their hands on Joel Miller’s girl? Joel can feel the beat of his rage in his veins. All his muscles tense.

He takes a deep breath, exhales sharply, then says matter-of-factly, “I’ll show ya what else is bound to happen.”

Joel picks up his rifle.

"Yeah, kill me," Harold chides. "Kill us all."

Joel shakes his head no. His voice is deep and flat. "Not until ya beg me to." Now he’s gotta make an example out of someone.

Joel forces Harold outside, then puts his rifle behind his back and lets Harold take a swing at him, just for fun. When Joel gets this wound up, he needs to feel something. After getting clocked square in the jaw, Joel beats him until he’s barely conscious. Then, Joel hoists Harold, who is not a light man, and impales him on a sharp, severed fence post.

Joel puts his rifle around front again, leaving Harold alive but doomed, and heads back toward the house. He’s almost to the door when Harold manages to groan through his gurgles. Joel turns around, calmly raises his rifle, shoots him in the head, then keeps walking. He goes back inside, chest heaving, wiping blood splatter off his face with his wrist. The rest of them are still inside. No one came to Harold's defense or ran. Joel stares down the men, and based on the faces he sees, he’s not worried about any of them.

“Rest of ya got nothin’ to worry ‘bout,” he reassures them. “long as ya leave her ‘lone.”

The men nod. Joel thinks about adding, and I’m not the only one you’ve gotta worry about, tempted to warn them that you know your way around a pistol and can handle yourself. One bullet, right between the eyes of that fucker. Joel thinks about it all the time. There’s something about his little sweet pea being a badass. And thank god, because he almost lost you.

“Now back to business.”

They discuss the rival crew they think sent two guys to Joel’s trailer, only for Joel and you to kill them. Joel doesn't think the crew is stupid enough to cause any more trouble, but agrees someone has to keep watch Just in case.

Joel almost reminds his men that he holds all the smuggling routes and contacts, just in case they’re concerned enough to pull something. But he doesn't need to say it. He dismisses them and grabs a duffle bag before collecting you from Carter. Carter asks what to do with Harold, and Joel says leave him for a while.

–

When the two of you get back to his trailer, Joel is ready to fuck out his anger. He sees himself in the mirror, chest heaving, veins about to pop, blood splatter on his hairline. God damnit, Harold. Joel showers because he doesn’t want any part of Harold getting close to you. Not even his blood.

You’re in the kitchen getting a glass of water when Joel walks out of the bathroom in just a towel. He crosses the kitchen, drops the towel, and pins you against the counter, pressing his hardness against your ass. He backs up enough to scrunch up your dress and growls, "good girl," when he finds you panty-less and wet. You knew. You were ready for it.

He grunts as he shoves himself into you, and he gives it to you good. "No one’s," he thrusts, "gonna," he grunts "touch ya." He plunges into you twice more, breathing heavily, then adds, “but me.” The power of his hips sends you to your toes with each thrust. He wraps an arm around you to hold you steady and watches over your shoulder as your tits jiggle with each punch of his hips. It doesn’t take you long to come. Then he curls his hands under your arms to hold your shoulders down from the front and begins to pulse with a low groan. He leans his head against yours and cradles it from the other side as he catches his breath, then asks, “you good?”

You nod, “mm-hmm,” and he pulls out, feeling better.

“Good.”

In the following days, things settle down in Joel’s group and get back to normal. The rival crew doesn't show up.

—--

One night, Joel leaves you inside the trailer while he sits out by the fire, as he often does. What you don't know is that he's not just sitting, drinking, and thinking. He’s working on something. He’s been making things for you. He hasn’t given you anything because nothing’s good enough, and it’s probably not going to get any better, but he keeps doing it. Sometimes he feels a little silly, but they’re things that will help both of you. Practical things.

He made a thigh holster for your gun. There was an old one without the straps in the weapons cache which is just a small room of chaos in the stash house, no telling what else is in there. He used part of a belt for the top strap and some black ribbon on the bottom, for the time being. It would be better than nothing, but he hasn't given it to you in case it wouldn’t work. Maybe it doesn't matter. As the weather changes, you'll probably need new clothes, anyway. Maybe even pants, he internally grumbles. Sweaters, too, so your chest won’t be exposed.

Tonight, Joel has another strap of leather with him, one that wasn't right for the holster. He also has a pot of water and a steel nail with a makeshift handle so he doesn’t burn himself. He heats up the tool and uses the hot nail head to emboss the strap with bold letters. He’s been working on it all week, and he’s only on ‘E.’ It’ll be first name only at this rate. You might not wanna wear it anyway, but it’s for your own good.

Joel’s almost lost you twice now. If there’s anything he can do to make someone think twice about touching or taking you, he’ll do it. Because Jackson, may he burn in hell, was right. Joel can’t have his eyes on you every single second. He's told you before: you tell’em you belong to Joel Miller. They’ll back right off when they hear it. But it doesn’t hurt for them to see it, too. And of course Joel wouldn't mind seeing it himself.

Joel’s fingers are too big for work this small. He accidentally makes the vertical line of the E slanted. Ah hell, this whole thing is no good anyway. You may never see it at this rate. But it feels good working with his hands, especially on something he thinks could help keep you safe and keep you his. You're a good girl, his good girl.

He should be thinking strategy, what’s going to happen with these warring crews, but that’s just not where his head’s at.

—--- YOU 🌸🫛—-----

You listen to the fire crackle and pop, longing for Joel to come to bed, longing for him to hold you, and more. He seems to stay outside longer than usual. When he adds a new log to the fire, you get impatient and decide to go out. You put on your shoes and go to the door, pushing it open just an inch. The rail to the stairs is blocking your view, but he's looking down at something. His jaw clenches in the firelight and he raises his eyebrows as he looks up. You slowly open the door, stepping out onto the stairs in your nightie. He puts something down on the ground, out of view.

“‘s’too cold out here, sweet pea. put on a shirt, would ya?" Your heart flutters at the implicit invitation and you return with a flannel over your nightie. As you approach, he takes a swig of whiskey and puts the flask down. His eyes are dark as he watches the flames. He makes room for you but doesn’t take his eyes off the fire as he lets you climb into his lap. You study his face and see something new flickering behind it. Worry. You want to ask him what’s wrong, but you don’t.

"When are you gonna come to bed?” you ask.

His brows knit as he looks at you. For a few seconds, he concentrates on picking lint off the flannel and smoothing your nightgown.

“I dunno, sweet pea. Got some stuff to figure out.”

“Can I help?”

He shakes his head no. You put your arms around his neck and rest your cheek against his shoulder. Then you slowly roll your face against him so your lips touch his warm skin and your nose rests on top of his shoulder muscle. You close your eyes and stay like that for a moment. He doesn’t stop you. Then you dare to press your lips ever so slightly into his skin before pulling your face back to look at him, your lips disconnecting with a barely perceptible smack. Joel’s still looking at the fire, but he allows himself a subtle smile as he exhales a silent laugh, then cradles your head. “Go to bed, sweet pea.” He kisses your temple. “I’ll be there in a li’l bit.”

You take the flannel off and get in bed, still smelling like the fire. You think of getting naked, eager to feel Joel however he wants you. But maybe he likes undressing you, and it’s chillier than normal, too. You lay under the covers getting wet and tingly thinking about what he'll do when he comes to bed.

The fire is still blazing. There’s no sign of him putting it out. It doesn't seem like he's coming in soon, but you're too turned on to just go to sleep. You close your eyes, recalling the feeling of Joel’s warm skin on your lips by the fire. The way his eyes sparkled. The way he always opens his arms for you to get in his lap–that seat is always yours whenever you want it.

You think about how handsome he is. Even, or especially when he’s looking rough. All dirty and beat up when he got home that one night, muscles pumped up. His sexy stitches. You play a montage in your head of all the times you’ve heard him yell, seen him stomp around ordering guys to do this or that. How fiercely he protects you. Your lip creeps under your teeth and you close your eyes.

All the way turned on, you slide your hand down between your legs and imagine him walking in and ravaging you. You recall how urgently he fucked you at the kitchen table after he thought you almost died. You recall the time he fucked you naked in missionary and and marked your neck. You try to visualize the look in his eyes.

And then, when you’re just about to come, you remember that one morning. Those few seconds you kissed, when he kissed you back. He had pulled you into him before he knew what he was doing. You still savor that fleeting moment he was grinding against you, his plush lips locked with yours. You can practically feel it. And that’s enough to put you over the edge. You turn your head into the pillow and brace for your orgasm.

—----- JOEL —------

You must think Joel can't hear your pretty little sounds when you touch yourself, but over the crackling of the fire he could swear he hears you moan into a pillow. His nose can't help but twitch into a little smile. He lets the fire die as he finishes the 'E', then he comes inside and washes off the smoke in the shower. By the time he gets in bed, you're asleep on your back with your left arm on your chest.

He carefully gets into the bed, spreading his weight out to not jostle the mattress. He's to your left, lying on his side, facing you. You’re so pretty and peaceful with your eyes closed and your sweet lips just slightly parted. An urge has been growing in his chest. He’s tried to push it away, but it's only grown, and he's afraid he can’t stop it happening.

He can’t bring himself to do it when you’re awake. He can’t let himself see how happy it makes you. The loss feels inevitable, and it gets closer and closer. The panic he felt when FEDRA had you on the ground. The devastation when it sounded like you were shot outside his own trailer. It gets worse every time. And last time, there was something new. Two losses flashed before his eyes. The loss of you (in the present and future), and the loss of what could have been–at least for a while, when he had the chance. The worst part is, he doesn't know which would hurt more.

His eyes fall on your mouth again.

If he does it now, it won’t mean anything. It won’t change anything. If he does it now, maybe this urge will stop pulling at him every time you’re close. And then he can tell himself it never happened. Yeah, if he does it now, it can be like it never happened. Like he never let himself get that close, never gave you hope that he could be anything more than the terrible man he is.

His lip twitches as he watches you sleep. Then his breathing syncs with yours, and for a moment, everything fades away but you and him and the physical need that's tugging at him.

Joel leans over you, careful not to wake you, and he hovers over your pretty face. It's happening. His heart races as his face drifts toward yours, drawn to you like a magnet.

He closes his eyes, presses his lips gently into yours, and something rushes through his blood to every part of his body. Fuck. He's instantly soothed. With your lips still locked, he takes one breath through his nose then pulls away. He takes a deep breath, expecting the buzz to fade, expecting to hate himself. But you're so pretty and your lips were so soft. He almost chokes on his own saliva. He's quickly gotten hard.

Still fast asleep, you sigh and your nose twitches. You hum the prettiest little "mm," and roll over on your right, facing away from him like you normally sleep.

He pinches his eyes shut tight. He has to have you.

–

Joel curls himself around you, inhales your hair, and cups your breast. He presses his cock against you, hardening to full strength by now. He lets out a deep but quiet, "Mmm," not enough to wake you up. The exposed skin of your back and shoulder is so inviting, he's salivating. His arm slides from your breast down your nightie to your mound and you sigh. He lifts his head to see if you're awake as he aimlessly caresses you over your nightie. Your brow furrows with his light touch. Aw, sweet pea, he thinks to himself. You're just so cute. He presses a gentle kiss into your neck where it meets your shoulder, and he begins to ghost your clit through the fabric.

You sigh again, but still don't seem to wake up yet. He presses your mound so your hips tilt for him, and he pulls up the nightgown. He tests you with a finger and finds you wet but pulls back and pauses to add saliva to his tip. He teases your entrance with his cock, and you sigh "Mmm, Joel," as you begin to stir awake. He pushes the curve of his tip just slightly inside, then holds your breast.

He asks, “You 'wake?”

“Mmm,” you answer weakly.

"wake you up?" His cock prods at your tight, wet entrance, pushing in a little further.. He's itching to be inside you, but he's taking his time, captivated by your peacefulness.

Your spine arches and you push back on him, taking another inch of his cock in with a moan as you stir awake. "Joel,” you sigh.

He presses his lips into your neck and lets them linger. You ask, "are you awake?"

"Mm-hmm," he answers, his voice deep and gravely. He groans softly as he pushes his cock into you. He takes a deep breath as your insides make room for him. It dawns on him that he's never taken the time to savor the moment your bodies are joined, but shit, it feels good. He didn't know it could feel so good like this. He’s feeling every groove of you in slow motion. Each centimeter of you greets him with a tight, warm hug. You push back on him with a moan, bringing your bodies together.

Oh, sweet pea. You want it so bad, and you take it so good.

—---YOU 🌸🫛—---

Joel’s cock spreads you apart and he buries his length in you slowly at first, palming your breasts. He pauses, all the way inside you, and removes your nightie so your naked bodies are flush. It feels like a dream. The way he kissed your shoulder, the way he’s fucking you right now with his whole body cradling yours, each thrust so deliberate, you can’t help but still wonder if he’s truly awake. If you're truly awake. He grunts softly each time he bottoms out. His sighs and moans are deep and gravely.

“Sweet pea,” he whispers against your neck, “ohhhh, you — ohh, you take it so good, baby.” His hand slides down your stomach, between your legs. He whispers in your ear, "God DAMN, youfeelsogood,” he inhales sharply, then sighs your name. Your nipples harden and you get goosebumps.

“Joel,” you whimper at his fingers on your clit. The fullness of his cock was enough, and the addition of his hand has you twitching already.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” he whispers, and his voice is so soothing, you relax again. He slows down his pace, his length sliding snugly into your warmth slow enough to feel the drag of his tip inside you. He touches your clit and you whimper again. He adjusts his hand to touch it less directly, pulsing his flattened fingers. That’s what you need. You moan.

“Good girl.”

You wanna ask him again if he’s really awake, but you don’t want to break the spell. You let the silence linger, peppered with moans and sighs from each of you. You’d love for this to last forever. You love every way he gives it to you, but the newness of this is something to savor. After a few minutes, sweat begins to bead and run between your bodies. You’re both breathing heavily. He gropes at your breasts and the entire front of your body, like he can’t get you close enough. His breathing gets ragged. You memorize the feel of his cock dragging thick and slow inside you. Then he adds his hand again. His thrusts become more powerful. “Come for me, I want you to– nnngh.”

“Joel,” you whine.

‘Ohh,” he moans.

“Joel, I’m–”

“Go ‘head, baby—ugghh—-you can do it”

Your upper back presses into his chest. He groans and holds you tight as you convulse against him and choke his cock with your climax. “Ohhhh, baby, mmmm.” He bottoms out and pulses inside you as you’re still coming. He sighs "ohhh," as he fills you up with his warm release. Your body hugs him more with every pulse of his cock.

When you’re both finished coming, your bodies are still joined. You relish the fullness of him inside you. You expect him to pull out any minute, but his breathing regulates with yours.

At some point, Joel's breath stutters abruptly, and you realize he's fallen asleep like this. Holding you close, body curled around you, cock gradually softening inside you. It isn't long until you drift off, too.

Smut continues here: asleep inside

Next major chapter: hunger

Thank you so much for reading and engaging. Please consider commenting or reblogging to show raider Joel your love, even if this post is old. 💖 Love you guys. I love your passion for him. Your engagement motivates me. <333

Friendly reminder that there will be no pregnancy in this fic, Joel was snipped pre outbreak.

----

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haruchuiyo · 2 months ago

Text

the kings love

the king broke your heart. he is now on his knees, at your mercy.

content: NSFW + a welt yang royal au + fem!reader + reader is a queen + implied arranged marriage + groveling + angst + betrayal + talks about trauma (very short) + scenes with food + kissing + dry humping + breeding kink + talks of an heir + very slight creampie (implied) + non sexual nudity + also sexual nudity + implied obsessive behaviour + perverse thoughts + blade and his duchess makes their cameos + fluff at the end + happy ending!

word count: 14k (i got lost my bad)

—

“Her Majesty The Queen.”

Welt’s head perks up from his paperwork on his table as he hears the announcement of your arrival.

As he sees you, he feels his heart flutter at just the sight of you. His eyes wander down to the beautiful gown that hugs your body perfectly, fitting you like the true queen you are. Then his eyes trail up to your pretty face. You’re beautiful as usual. There’s a slight smile on your face as you approach him.

“Are you ready, my dear?” You ask gently. Welt swears this gentle voice of yours was real and not an act, then he sees how your hands are formed into fists on the table. Welt felt his heart sink and he nodded.

“Of course, my love.” Welt replies. The servant, as if on cue seeing the lovely act of his king and queen, decides to leave you two alone.

Hearing the door close and it’s only the two of you, you back away from Welt and drop your smile.

“I’m sorry.” You hear Welt say and you can’t help the slight dry chuckle escaping your mouth. Ignoring his words, you place a brooch on his table.

“Wear this brooch, it symbolises our unity through our marriage and for the kingdom.” Hearing the words slip past your mouth, Welt feels his heart sink even deeper and he regrets what he did to you a lot.

“Of course.” He softly says as he takes the brooch. As if he suddenly lost all knowledge on how to pin the brooch on him. Just a moment later, he feels your hands on top of his chest. Soft and gentle to the touch, you help him pin the brooch on the front of his suit.

Welt can’t help but let his hands wander and softly place them on your waist. He hears your breath hitch and you softly shake your head.

“I don’t need this from you right now, your majesty.” You try to remove his hands from your waist but it’s to no avail. You lightly bite down on your lower lip in frustration. Why does he have to be so strong?

“Will you look at me?” You keep looking at the front of his chest. “Please?” His voice was almost wavering and you slightly shook your head.

“I don’t want to.” At your words, you feel how Welt presses your body into his chest even closer. “Why not?”

“Don’t force me to do this. You have no right, especially after what you did.” You harshly tell him, holding back tears.

No matter what you say, you can’t deny the fact you enjoy his touch on you. His hand on your waist feels good and the heat from his close proximity raises a certain warmth in you, you almost don’t wanna leave his hold on you.

“I’m sorry, I truly am.” Welt sounds genuinely apologetic but the betrayal from what he did hurts deeper.

“Let me go.” And he does. And you miss his touch but you can’t go back.

—

As you get back to your suite from your royal duties, you see an envelope on your dresser. It reminds you of the times you thought Welt sent letters. The front of the envelope has your name on it and when you turn the envelope you see the familiar stamp on it. And you immediately place the envelope away in your drawers.

You have no idea what Welt would do if he saw you put his letter to you aside. Thank the aeons we’re not sharing a bedroom, you think to yourself as you sit on the chair in front of your dresser.

As if subconsciously, your hand reaches out to the drawer with the envelope in it. Something in you wants to read it, but the other something tells you it’s the same thing again. A letter written by someone else pretending to be the king, your husband.

And you let your hold on the drawer go as soon as your maids enter the room to tend to you.

—

Welt can’t stop looking at you. You look beautiful. Your smile lights up the entire kingdom and its people. The way you greet them so gently and as if they all are familiar to you. And the way you give each and one of them a smile. Welt can’t help the thought that escapes from him wishing your smile was all his. He wants you and he’s too late. Or maybe he isn’t.

And when he sees you look at him, your eyes are shining and face covered in happiness, his heart flutters. He can’t help what he did just now.

He gently takes your hand in his and kisses your knuckles. You look at him surprised when there’s rows of awe’s going off behind you. And little did Welt know, his little gesture made your own heart flutter.

And hours after that, you hastily walk away from him while taking your gloves off. You hear Welt call for you from behind you but you don’t quit your steps away from him. At this moment, you really truly wanted the guards at your floor, which you share with said man running after from behind you.

“Wait!” He manages to catch up. “Please.” And he grabs your hand and pulls you to a stop. As he does that, you catch a whiff of his scent and you almost want to take another one. As you look up at Welt, you see how he’s doing the same thing but he’s not hiding it.

He subtly gets closer to you, his hand wrapped around your wrist. You feel his thumb gently stroke your skin and you subtly grit your teeth and try to pull away from his hold, but it’s to no avail.

“Stop grabbing me like that!” You try to shake off his hold once more but it doesn’t work at all. “It’s not my fault I have to do this to force you to be with me.” At his words, a dry chuckle leaves your mouth and Welt immediately regrets his words.

“Aren’t you a little too late with that?” The way your eyes turned cold as you looked at him, Welt felt his blood run cold. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry.”

“This wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t do what you did and your apologies would have been nonexistent, your majesty.” You spit out and Welt feels his heart sink, though your eyes are glaring at him, he can still see the tears you’re holding back.

“I’m truly sorry. I regret what I did. You don’t deserve that.”

“Of course I didn’t. I didn’t deserve to be roped into an arranged marriage with you either, who was known to be a king who refused to marry.” And Welt flinched at your words, though you’re right, your words hurt. Welt can’t help but look down and he sees how he’s still holding you by the wrist. He lets you go and somehow, he feels slightly happy you didn’t leave him when he dropped his hold on you.

“You should’ve been known for playing with the heart of someone who loves you.” And he looks at you. And there’s tears streaming down your face and you chuckle as you wipe them away. His heart sinks even more at your tears though he can’t forget the words you just uttered. Though what you said next was an arrow to his heart.

“I feel sick for still loving you. Even though you hurt me so much, I can’t help but still love you. No matter what you did, that doesn’t remove from the fact you are a good man but you are not one to me. Not at that time and not now either.”

—

A little more than a year ago

You are nervous. Very nervous. But you shouldn’t be. But you are. You are to be married to the King of Astral who has a reputation of not marrying at all. What if he refuses you when he sees you. You subconsciously scratch your fingernails when the doors open and a handsome man emerges.

A handsome man adorned in finest silks, with a graceful walk and such aura to him. You would’ve thought it was someone else if not for the crown on his head and the pin on his right chest.

Welt Yang. King of Astral.

Your eyes widened, he’s truly handsome and you swear you felt your heart skip a beat by just his appearance. But when he talks, your eyes almost pop out. Not only is his face and entire body handsome, his voice is as well.

How you managed to curtsy to him and introduce yourself is a wonder to you. Though when you looked down at the floor, you could feel a pair of brown eyes on you. And when you looked up, your eyes were locked at each other and you saw a tint of a red hue on his cheeks and you felt your heart swoon.

The King of Astral is adorable as well.

Days and weeks after that, you have been in the company of Welt multiple times. Your father called it ‘get to know each other’, though you objected at the time your heart still fluttered.

“So, your majesty-“

“Welt.” Said man cuts you off and you look at him confused. “Call me Welt.”

And so you did.

Then came the day of your days as engaged and you swore this man had your heart in his calloused palms. He made you smile, laugh at his dry jokes and you enjoyed being with him so much, you anticipated meeting him every single day. Little did you know of what is soon upon you.

Weeks of being engaged, each and every day, you received a handwritten letter from Welt. Telling you of his days, how much he misses being in your presence and discussing every single topic with you. And since you’re helping with planning the wedding, he adds in a few suggestions here and there which make you smile. And every time you receive his letters, you write him equally as many back.

Then came the wretched day.

You had decided to give him your letter in person. As you stood outside the doors of his office, the guard outside the door bows to you and was about to open it and announce your arrival, when you grabbed his shoulder and shook your head.

“Mind if I go in there by myself? I don’t wanna disturb the king with his duties.” You kindly request, the guard looked flustered at what he is supposed to do but since you’re the soon to be queen of the kingdom he’s serving, he saw no point in refusing your simple request. You thank him profusely before quietly opening the huge door. You were eternally grateful at that moment when the door didn’t make a loud sound.

“I’ve sent the letter you requested, your majesty.” You hear a familiar feminine voice. It’s his Secretary, Himeko. About to speak up, you hear Welt’s next words.

“Did you write how I would, Himeko?” Welt asked and Himeko said yes.

What are they talking about and why do you feel nervous?

“Splendid. The princess is quite smart, if she picks up on the fact that I didn’t write the letters, it’d be quite troublesome as we are gonna get wed tomorrow.” Hearing what you did, you felt rage surge up inside you. Not just rage, but betrayal and despair.

Have you written to Himeko this whole time, thinking it was the king? The lovely words you read and received were all written by the king's secretary.

Welt was about to speak up when he saw you appear from behind Himeko. Your brows are furrowed and your steps are in haste as you reach him. And he sees a letter in your hand before it’s harshly placed down on his table right in front of him.

“What is the meaning of-“ and a sound emerged in the office of the King of Astral.

Welt looked sideways, his eyes widened as he held his cheek and Himeko looked terrified. You had just struck the king. And when he looks at you, there’s tears falling down your face and something stings in Welts heart.

When you hear him call you by your name, your heart aches.

“I really thought you were a good man, your majesty. I truly believed you liked me and enjoyed our time together. If you really didn’t want to do this and had to resort to having your Secretary write your love letters to me, you should’ve just refused to marry me.” And you left the room and the room has never been quieter.

And after that day, the letters stopped coming. But the man who was the object of your anger and the cause of your heartache, never stopped coming to you.

Every day he apologized. There wasn’t a time where you didn’t hear an apology from him. Even during your wedding party, even though he didn’t say it during your first dance as a wedded couple, you saw it in his eyes. You felt it in his touches at public events and in the gifts he gave you. Personally.

And everytime you refused.

—

Welt sits back in his seat in his office, looking up at the ceiling. He feels numb but most of all, regret. His heart ached the first day he saw your tears and he was the reason for that. And today you cried once more and he was once more the cause of your tears. Seeing you in that state two times, each time his fingers itches to wipe your tears away and beg on his knees for you and apologise, over and over.

Every day Welt berates himself for hurting you like that. And ever since that day, he’s read the letters you wrote when you two were engaged. And every time it doesn’t fail to bring tears to him when he sees how much of your love for him you poured into those letters. All while thinking they’d go to him and every letter you’d get back, you thought it was from him.

Oh how he wishes to undone his actions and never hurt you like that.

He picks out a key from his front pocket and unlocks the drawer. Stacks of letters, in worn out shape, with your handwriting. Addressing every one of them to him.

And he reads them all over again for the umpteenth time.

—

“He reads your letters every night, my queen.”

You hear Himeko say from behind you on one of your walks, which you wanted to take alone but she decided to join. You scoff at her words

“It’s as if I’m dead, well I’m not and he can go burn these aeon awful letters.” You retort back and you hear Himeko sigh from behind you.

“He said it was a royal order.” Himeko speaks up and you quit your steps to turn around to look at her.

“Yet you didn’t have the ounce of decency to let me know. You knew how much this would hurt me.” Himeko winces slightly as she nods her head. “I confided in you, I’ve talked about him to you. I thought we were friends yet you were along in this betrayal as well. Silly isn’t it.” You dryly laugh before continuing to walk.

“I’m dearly sorry.”

“I’m sure you are.”

And you know she is. You can’t fault her for following a royal order. Royal orders are most important and secretive, they’re to be carried out no matter what. Though it hurts you to speak to your friend like that, deep down you’ve already forgiven her.

When you arrive at your bedchamber, there's a letter on your dresser and you see how there’s no stamp or anything whatsoever to tell who it’s from. There’s only your name on it.

Unfolding the letter, you see the familiar handwriting and put it away.

—

Welt sits at the tiny table. Candles are lit and there’s warm food on the table. But you’re not here.

And it’s been hours.

And every day he does this. Send you a letter, asking you to dine with him and each time you don’t come. Welt can’t fault you for that.

He smiles to himself sadly as he sees the empty seat in front of him, wishing you were sat there.

—

“My queen, the kings been waiting for you for half a dozen hours now.” At your lady maids words, you hastily turn your head. He’s waited six hours for you to come join him for dinner?

Your heart winces. Maybe he doesn’t deserve sitting alone for six hours while the food gets all cold. You grab your night robe and stand up from your chaise.

You arrive at the room he set up for dinner, gently opening the door. You see Welt sat alone. All while he’s holding onto what you assume is letters. And he’s reading it over and over. You see him softly brushing his fingertips over the words before leaning the letter closer to his face and he inhales the scent. And that’s when you see your own stamp on top of the letter. You remember how you sprayed these letters with your personal and favorite scent.

“Are you not going to eat?” And Welt’s head perks up so fast, you’d think it would fly off his neck. You can’t help the thought of thinking he’s cute. But desperate. Maybe it’s good he’s desperate.

“You’re here.” He breathes out as he stands up, approaching you.

“My lady maid told me you’ve been waiting for six hours. The food has already gone cold, your majesty. I think you should eat.” You tell him as he stands in front of you.

“Not without you, no.” He softly says and your eyes softly widened before shaking your head.

“So you’re gonna starve yourself unless I’m dining with you?” You lightly tease and you see how Welt’s eyes shone in delight at your simple teasing remark.

“Maybe.” He mumbles. You walk past him to the table. About to pull the chair out, Welt beats you to it. He slides in the chair for you as you sit down. You gently thank him before looking at the food on the table. And your eyes properly widened in surprise.

These all are your favorite foods. Even the drink on the table is your most favorite and you look up at Welt. And all he does is show you a gentle smile and your heart winces.

“I got you your favorite dessert as well, but maybe you’d like to eat that after the meal?” He asks and you look at him for a few seconds before slightly nodding your head. And he flashes you a happy grin.

“The food is cold, I can ask the servant to heat it up-“

“It’s alright, it’s pretty late and they all most likely wanna go to sleep now.” You say as you pick up the cutlery and cut into the food.

To say the dinner was good was an understatement, though you hesitated being alone with Welt after how much he hurt you, you can’t deny the fact that you enjoy his presence. He keeps asking your thoughts on diplomatic issues and news, your thoughts on how to better things for the people and of course, questions about you. Though your heart fluttered at his attentiveness on you, you were still hesitant. But you answered nonetheless.

Then he brought out the dessert and you see how there’s only one plate of it. And it’s for you. You look at Welt confused but he just smiles at you.

“I made this for you.” You get confused at his words before realizing what he meant.

“You mean, you made this cake from scratch?” You ask and he nods his head. As he does that, you see how the red tint on his cheeks and the candlelight seems to be showcasing that so well, he looks so handsome while blushing.

“I didn’t know you enjoyed baking.” You mumble as you pick up the dessert spoon and cut into the cake.

“I’ve been learning how to bake for a while now, this is the only one that turned out well and didn’t burn.” He tells you and you giggle, missing the way Welt’s eyes softened and the way they glanced down at your mouth.

Welt felt nervous seeing you get a piece of the cake and put the piece in your mouth. What if it doesn’t taste good? What if it isn’t how you like it? If it isn’t, he’d make more and more till it’s exactly how you like it.

“It’s good.” You simply say as you take another bite, refusing to meet his eyes. Feeling shy for complimenting him. You hear Welt sigh in relief then he sees you push the plate of cake towards him.

“Try it. A chef should always taste his own food. But in this case, the baker should taste his desserts.” You chime up softly and Welt grins at you.

As he takes a bite, instead of focusing on the taste itself, he realizes it’s the same spoon you ate with. Is this what an indirect kiss is? He thanked whoever he learned his phrase from in his head before looking at you.

“It’s good.” He nods his head and you lightly smile at him.

And the dinner was over like that. All that was left was the silence in the room and just you two looking at each other. You were about to stand up and excuse yourself when Welt got up from his seat and kneeled in front of you. It went by so fast, you couldn’t process everything at once.

“What are you doing?” You ask as he kneels and looks up at you. He grabs your hands that were on your lap and takes them in his larger one. He holds onto your fingers gently.

“I want you to know I’m sorry.” He mumbles. Your heart beats faster when you see him place your knuckles on his forehead.

“Did you make this dinner to have me forgive you just like that?” And he shakes his head.

“This dinner was to be with you. This dinner was so I could dine with my wife and have her eat the food and dessert she likes.” He tells you with such a clear voice as he kisses each one of your fingertips and you feel flutters in your body before you pull away your hands and stand up.

Welt looks up at you from where he's kneeling. You look down at him when you feel him gently stroke your wrist with his fingers before he places his hands on your waist and makes your abdomen face his way, before he leans in and nuzzles his face there.

“Stop.” You whisper out as you hold onto his head but you don’t even push him away, you’re just holding onto his hair. You can hear him inhale your scent by your abdomen before nuzzling even further.

“Why are you doing this to me?”

“I think about you day and night. I read all your letters before going to sleep. You’re in my dreams every night, my love.” He continues on as you plead for him to stop but he doesn’t.

“I will be on my knees, apologizing for hurting you the way I did. If it takes me ten years or more, it doesn’t matter how long. I will do anything it takes to make you smile, have you laugh at my dreadful jokes just so I can hear your lovely laughter again. Just so I can have you looking at me and have you see how much I cherish you and love you. Because I do.” At some point when he was uttering these words, you felt your nightgown get wet from where Welt was burying his face on your abdomen.

“I love you.” He looks up and his face is stricken with tears. And you shake your head before pushing him away. “I love you.” He says as he tugs on the ends of your nightgown.

“No you don’t, this is all to make yourself feel better and have me forgive you like you didn’t do anything hurtful to me.” Welt shakes his head, before he could speak you walk away, not being able to handle being alone with him anymore.

You left him alone in the room, on his knees as tears fell down his face. Leaving him with all regret and pain in the world.

—

“Your Majesty, you have been summoned to the council.” Your lady maid announces. You look up from the book you were reading.

“Has something happened?” You ask as you put away the book. Your lady maid looks down on the floor but you don’t miss the way she’s blushing.

“Are you alright?” You ask as you check her forehead and she nods her head. You look at her confused, she’s never acted this way so you can’t question any further since it’s the council summoning you.

“Is the king there?” You ask as you two walk towards the council room. “Yes, my queen.” She answers and you nod your head. Nervous to meet him after what happened days ago. Ever since the dinner night, you haven’t been in close proximity with Welt or alone with him at all. But he never stopped sending you letters.

“Her Majesty, The Queen.”

You enter the room and see all the ministers of the council sitting around the oval table, with the king seated as well. They all stand up as you enter the room, bowing in respect to you. The king however approaches you and you gently accept his offer of taking your hand in his. You sit down on your seat beside him.

“Is something the matter to have the both of us in the council room?” You ask and all the ministers look amongst themselves before looking down. As your lady maid did, they all are blushing but not as much as your lady maid did.

“Is everyone sick?” You innocently ask, not knowing what’s gonna come upon you soon enough.

“My love.” You hear Welt say from beside you. As if on reflex, you turn your head as he calls for you and your eyes widens when you see a red tint on his cheeks. Why’s everyone blushing?

“My queen, there’s been…words going around about a certain topic.” One of the ministers starts off before he coughs before he can continue.

“What word?” You ask and everyone stays quiet before one of the ministers, Dangheng, speaks up.

“There’s been talks of an heir, your majesty.” Dangheng says and you are still confused. “And what is that supposed to entail?” You ask once more.

“Talks of you two still not having an heir, despite being married for more than a year.” Your eyes widen.

“The people want a princess or a prince to welcome to the Kingdom of Astral.” Dangheng finishes and your eyes are still wide open as you clench onto your hands. You did not expect to be summoned for this.

“I think us having an heir is out of question for the moment, as we still want to enjoy our life as two a little more.” Welt speaks up, sensing your surprise and discomfort. Though it wasn’t discomfort, it was nervousness you felt.

Having an heir means you need to get intimate with Welt. You didn’t consummate your marriage on your wedding night. Though nobody knows of that, you understand why the people are talking about an heir to the kingdom.

Then you remember Welt’s words of you two wanting to enjoy your life as just you two. You look away from the ministers to look at Welt. When you see his pair of brown eyes land upon you, your heart flutters so you hastily look away. That moment didn’t go unnoticed by the ministers on the table.

“So me and the ministers at this table have been talking about sending your majesties together to the country and have you two talk it over there.”

—

And here we are.

You climb down from the carriage with the help of the footman. Thanking him gently as you look at the huge mansion in front of you. It’s stunning, especially in the sunlight. There’s a fountain in the middle to the entry and flower bushes adorning the entire front entry of the mansion.

“It’s quite lovely isn’t it?” You hear Welt from beside you and you nod your head. The mansion is very lovely.

As you settle in with the servants packing your suitcases. You decide to take a walk around the mansion. You managed to sneak away from your bodyguard, though you felt bad, you needed some alone time after riding in the carriage the whole day with Welt.

The more you walk, the more you find yourself further away from the mansion. Though it can be seen with its sky high towers, you know you’re far away from it by an hour.

Then you stumble upon a lake with another mansion. The lake was behind it and it was lovely as well. There’s lotus flowers and you get down on your knees, admiring the flower when you hear steps from behind you.

A lady dressed in fine clothing, with a tall man with dark hair beside her. When these two see you kneeled by the lake, they walk towards you.

About to ask who you are, their eyes land on the pin on the right side of your chest and see how familiar you are. It was your royal queen pin. And both of them bow in unison.

“Your Majesty.” They say as you feel embarrassed to have stumbled upon them like this. You didn’t quite expect to meet the Duke of Stellaron and the duchess like this.

“Please, no need for pleasantries. I’m sorry to have stumbled upon your humble abode like this.” You feel truly embarrassed. The Duchess of Stellaron speaks up.

“No need, you are welcome here anytime. We’re the one sorry for not welcoming your majesty’s presence here properly.”

So the married couple of Stellaron takes you on a tour of their mansion. Yingxing, a quiet man of few words, seems to be speaking more with his wife than he does with anyone else. Though he looks stoic, one doesn’t miss the love in his eyes as he looks at his wife. And your heart aches. Your mind automatically goes to the king you left at the mansion.

“Your majesty, if I may ask, what took you this far from the royal mansion?” The duchess asks and you sheepishly chuckle. “Needed some alone time, so I may or may not have run away for just a few hours.” And the duchess giggles.

“I quite understand that husbands can be a little unbearable. This one never leaves my side if he isn’t working.” The Lady of Stellaron says as she pats her husband's chest while grinning ear to ear. The duke who seemed to have gained some red color to his cheeks, stayed quiet.

Then you hear some running from behind you, the duke stands in a defensive mode, grabbing his sword but relaxes when he recognizes the royal soldier insignia on the soldier running towards them.

“Your Majesty!” The soldier pants as he bows before looking up.

“Easy there, breathe now.” You gently tell the soldier and he nods his head. “Your Majesty, the king is looking for you.” The soldier says and you feel quite bad. You did just run away without telling anybody.

“Is he worried?” You ask and the soldier nods his head. “I think the king almost thought he lost you.” And you turned quiet. You see how the duchess smiles at her husband before looking at you.

“I think I need to cut short my walk with you two. I had a lovely time. Thank you.” You tell them sincerely.

“We are most honored to have the queen with us, we’d be most delighted if you came here on an official invite.” You nod your head.

“And keep out a lookout for an envelope for you two as well. I'd love to have you two at the mansion sometime.”

—

As the soldier guides you back, you see the king at the top of the stairs looking out. When he sees you emerge from the flower bushes, he doesn’t hesitate for a second to start running. To you.

Welt crashed into you with a oomph as he wrapped his arms around your body.

“Ouch, you’re quite strong, my king.” You mumble with your arms dangling by your side, not returning his hug. Welt immediately pulls away and looks at you. He cups your face and rests his forehead against yours.

“I thought I lost you.” He whispers. You shake your head. “I was just walking around, met the duke and duchess of Stellaron. Quite lovely people.” You ramble on and Welt looks at you quietly.

“Are you okay? You’re not hurt are you?” He asks softly and your heart beats faster. You shake your head once more. “I’m fine, thank you.” You mumble, as if subconsciously, you gently hold onto his clothes.

“If you want to walk around, take me with you.” Welt says and you nod your head. He smiles at you before leaving a chaste kiss on your forehead.

You didn’t know what to make of what just happened, it happened so naturally you didn’t question it at that moment.

—

Still at the mansion in the country, you still receive the letters from Welt. You have not gained the courage to open any of them, though you want to, some voice in the back of your head is telling you it’s the same thing from a year ago all over again. So you push the thought of reading his letters aside.

You and Welt haven’t pushed the agenda of having an heir. And you think Welt doesn’t seem to be planning to bring it up anytime soon considering how he seems to be devoting all his time to you and you only.

Everyday he tells the cook to only make food you like, bring desserts of your taste to the table and make drinks and teas only you enjoy. Though at some point, you felt frustrated and felt bad. Does he not wanna have something he likes to eat or drink?

Not only that, as soon as he sees you step out of the mansion or hears about that from his servants, he’s at your beck and call. Seems like the day you ran away for a few hours had left quite an impact on him.

Though you can’t push him away everytime he does that, because you do, to your disappointment, enjoy his presence. He seems to not mind you not replying to what he says and lets you stay quiet as he keeps talking.

You two passed by a certain flower bush, you walked past it when Welt stayed behind. He gets on his hunches as he plucks it from the bush. You turned around as to why it turned so quiet and saw how he’s approaching you with the flower in hand.

Your entire body swells in butterflies and you hastily turn around. And you hear Welt’s steps hasten as well and he stands in front of you. And he gives you the lily flower.

It’s your favorite.

Welt sees you hesitating to take it from his hand so he lightly grins at you.

“I can pick up the entire ground of lilies for you if that’s the reason the flower isn’t in your hands yet?” At his words, Welt sees you giggling and he swears the sky never looked bluer, birds started singing and he saw only you in his vision.

Then you take the lily flower and thank him softly. Oh how much Welt wishes he could engulf you in his arms and kiss you to the world's end. But he stayed put and watched you subtly smile while admiring the lily flower.

—

You decided to go out the back of the mansion, and see how there’s a fountain there as well. As you sit down by it, you look into the deep water while fiddling with the royal queen pin on your right side of your chest. When you do, you feel how it’s a bit loose, about to fix it you hear Welt call for you. You turn to look at him the same time as your hand accidentally hits the pin, making it fall into the fountain water.

Your eyes widen and you immediately stand up. You unbutton your clothes and take them off. “Why did you startle me like that?” You glare at him a little. Welt chuckles lightly. “I fetch for someone to get the pin.”

“No need, I do it myself.” You huff out as you slide your dress down your body.

Welt sees all this happen in front of him and stands star struck when you’re left in your white chemise. Then he sees you jump into the water and he immediately runs up to you.

He sees you in the water, looking around then grabs something. When you get up from the water, you try to get yourself up on the fountain so Welt helps you by putting his hands below your armpits and lifts you up. You yelp in surprise a little, but he steadies you on the fountain then doesn’t let go. You sit down on it.

“Why did you do that? Are you hurt?” Welt fusses over you, as he looks at you everywhere with his eyes.

You lift the pin in your index finger and thumb and show it to him. “I am fine, let me go.” You sigh out. Welt does release his grip but not before his hands lightly graze down your sides and you look up at his brown eyes. They’re focused on your body, he doesn’t look up once to look at you. You look down at yourself and see how your white chemise is see through when it’s wet.

Now you’re feeling conscious and flustered, he blatantly stares at your body without any ounce of shame. Almost like he was admiring the view. At that point, a thought wandered into your head. Would he still admire your body if your chemise was off your body?

As Welt stepped away, you almost missed the close proximity and heat from his larger body. He was standing beside your thighs, but had you spread your thighs a little, would that mean he’d be standing between them? Would he pull himself closer to you? Your entire body heats up at these thoughts and your eyes widens.

“Thank you for lifting me up.” You softly mumble as you get down from the fountain and pick your clothes up. You hold them to your chest and walk past him. As you pass by, Welt couldn’t help but let his fingers graze the side of your thighs and your wet chemise. His hand flexes.

When you walk away from him, he wonders if you knew that when you were doing that, it gives him a view of your backside. Your wet dress is sticking to your skin and Welt looks at your inner thighs that got revealed by your dress sliding up. He turns around and groans at himself.

He adjusts his pants but can’t stop thinking about the way your breasts looked below the dress, your nipples perked up and since he stood over you, he could see into them. If he pulled the dress down, would your breasts spill out? Welt groans at the thought. And when he saw your inner thighs? If the dress had slide up a little bit more, he had seen everything above the thighs.

Welt has a long day ahead of him.

—

A little few days later, you get summoned to Welt’s office in the country mansion. This has never happened before, you can’t help but worry.

“I have to go back to the palace, the ministers needs me for a diplomatic task that requires me to be there in person.” Welt explains and you sigh in relief.

“Do you wanna come with me? We can always come back here as soon as the task is solved.” Welt gently tells you as he steps closer to you.

“I can—“ realizing what you’re about to say, you stop yourself but see how Welt is staying quiet, letting you finish your sentence.

“I can wait here for you.” You softly mumble and Welt’s heart swoons and swells in love for you. How he managed to not take your lips in for a kiss is a wonder.

And when Welt was gone, you didn’t know how much of a bore it’d be. If you weren’t busy with your hobby, eating or sleeping, you’d be with Welt. While you’re not much of a chatter yourself, Welt would take up the task and do all the talking.

It was the second day without Welt, and you invited the Duke and Duchess of Stellaron to the country mansion. To say you had a great time was an understatement. You grew to adore the stoic duke, who seemed to know his way with jokes and making his wife giggle and laugh. And the duchess with her teasing remarks and her making her stoic husband blush furiously.

Yingxing excused himself to use the chamberpot, leaving you alone with the duchess. As soon as the duke was out of the room, the duchess didn’t hesitate to turn to you and take your hands in hers.

“So how are you faring, my queen?” At her simple but genuine question, you can’t help but feel a little emotional but you decide to not burden her with your thoughts.

“I’m faring quite well. More than I thought I would actually.” You lightly chuckle as the duchess smiles at you.

“And without your dear husband, the king, as well?” At the mention of Welt, your heart fluttered but you lightly winced.

“Yes.” You simply say. And the duchess gets worried at your behavior but decides to not push it.

About to speak up, the duchess husband gets back to the room and joins you two once more.

The day went by and you bid bye to the couple of Stellaron before retiring for the day. As you were brushing your hair, a knock was heard on the door and you got up on your feet.

A maid was outside with a plate in her hand, on the plate were two envelopes.

“A letter from his majesty the king and the Duchess of Stellaron, my queen.” The maid bows her head and you take the envelopes before thanking her. Closing the door, you look at the envelopes in your hands. You open the letter from the duchess first. Her words in it make you smile. She simply wrote —

‘Your majesty,

Should you need a friend, I’m always just a few hours away.’

You’re most grateful for her companionship and friendship, writing a reminder in your head to thank her in person the next morning. As you put her envelope aside, you see the one from Welt.

Back at the palace for diplomatic reasons, Welt still found time to write you this letter. Your vision gets blurry because of tears forming. Thinking it’s not the end of the world, you open the envelope and start reading its content.

—

The maid gently presses a cold spoon to your eyes, her face full of worry for you.

“My queen, should you need to stay abed the whole day, do tell me.” The maid fusses over you and you chuckle slightly as you shake your head.

“I doubt my eyes are very puffy, dear. You need not worry about me.” And you’re right. It’s not very puffy at all and by the time the duke and the Duchess of Stellaron arrive at the country mansion, the puffiness is gonna disappear.

And so it did, you’re just grateful you carry a pocket mirror in your purse. Exiting the mansion, you see the duke and duchess exit the carriage.

“Welcome, Duke and Duchess of Stellaron. I’m most grateful for you two coming here.” The duchess and duke bows, giving similar sentiments back and you giggle.

“I feel bad for having you two speak with such formality with me considering we had such a lovely time yesterday. I think we’d been the closest of friends.” You grin at them, both of their eyes widen before they soften.

“I think you’re right, my queen.” The duke, Yingxing, says as his wife agrees wholeheartedly.

They joined you for tea before luncheon, and before you realized it, they'd been there the whole day. You called yourself not much of a chatter but this day, you’ve proven yourself differently. A servant entered the room with an envelope and when you saw the familiar stamp, you did your best to hold back your tears. Thanking the servant, you tuck the envelope in your sleeves and glance back at the couple in front of you. They didn’t miss how your expression changed when seeing the letter. Even they recognize the king's stamp.

“Is that from the king?” Yingxing asks and you nod your head. “Aren’t you going to open it?” The duchess asks and you lightly chuckle before shaking your head. “I open it later on, I wouldn’t wanna cut our evening shorter.”

The duchess senses discomfort from you and pats her husband's thigh, signaling him to leave the topic of the king alone, figuring out he’s a sensitive topic.

The evening went on and it was time for the couple to retire back home. So they did and you were left alone once more. You feel the envelope tucked inside your sleeve and you hastily run back inside the mansion. Arriving inside your room, you open the letter and read its content.

He’s coming back tomorrow.

—

Welt has heard word of you being in company with the Duke and Duchess of Stellaron. Before going back to the country mansion, he decides to pay them a visit. They’re on the way after all.

The duke and duchess didn’t expect to see their king on their steps at all. They hurriedly put together a table for him, apologizing for not being able to welcome him properly.

“It’s alright.” Welt chuckles. “I’ve come here to thank you two for keeping my wife company the days I’ve been away. I’ve heard she never looked happier and that’s all I wish for her.” Welt gently tells them. The duke and duchess look at each other, realizing this is quite an out of place behavior. All this time they’d think something was going on wonderfully with you two. But seeing your discomfort at seeing the king's letter yesterday and Welt thanking them, personally, for keeping you company. They never expected this.

The duchess glances at her husband, Yingxings eyes slightly widens in surprise and he grabs onto her hand signaling her a ‘don’t do this’ but the duchess just gulps on air before turning to look at the king. Welt saw the whole ordeal happening in front of him and got confused until the duchess spoke up.

“Your majesty, I hope I’m not crossing a line here. But is everything alright between you and the queen?” The duchess’s question makes Welt flash her a sad smile. Then he lightly shakes his head.

“I have done something to her and I regret it immensely. I can see she is still hurt by what I did.”

“Have you talked to her?” The duchess asks once more. Welt nods his head. “I’ve done everything I can to ease her pain and I apologize every single day.”

“I think my wife means a different kind of talk, your majesty. There must’ve been a reason as to why you’ve hurt your wife, no?” Yingxing says and it’s like Welt got a realization. His eyes widened. This whole time he’s been doing everything to gain your favour and forgiveness without telling you the reason behind why he’s hurt you the way he did. Not to justify his actions but to give you some possible understanding.

Welt hastily stands up, the chair screeches and both the duke and the duchess stand as well before she speaks up.

“I hope you mend your relationship with the queen, your majesty. She’s a lovely person and even if I have known her for a short while, it saddens me to know such a kind person is experiencing a heartache.”

And Welt couldn’t agree more.

—

Your entire body was full of nervousness and anticipation. Though you still remember the pain Welt caused you, your love for him is still there. He’s been gone for almost a week and he’s coming back anytime soon. It’s afternoon and your husband is still not here.

Unbeknownst to you, your husband is scaling up the stairs at such speed, the servants haven’t had the time to greet their king. Welt stands outside your bedroom door, having heard you’ve been cooped up there since morning.

As he stands outside still, your maid opens the door and eyes widened in surprise. About to bow and greet her king, Welt places an index finger on his lips signaling her to stay quiet. She does.

Then he hears your lovely voice he has missed all the days he’s been away from you.

“Did you forget something?” You ask the maid, not forgetting to address her by her name. Your maid yelps slightly when Welt shakes his head.

“Uh- oh! No!” The maid stuttered before she hastily left, not forgetting to bow to her king before she did.

Welt enters your room, as he sees you by your dresser, still in your nightgown and your hair released. He’s never seen you like this. He burns the memory of you like this on his brain. About to speak up, you catch him in the mirror reflection and stand up in a haste.

Then Welt sees how your brows furrowed before your face morphed into anger. He sees you grab a stack of envelopes, before reaching him in a haste and throw them at his face.

“How dare you!” You raise your voice. Welt looks at the envelopes you threw at him and sees it’s the letters he’s written to you.

“What is this—“ he looks at the floor. His eyes widened. “You brought the letters I wrote to you.” He mutters as he looks at the floor. He picks up a letter and opens the letter. Each entry in his letters is always ‘my darling wife’.

“Of course I did, and I regret opening them all.” Hearing how your voice wavered, Welt looks at you. Tears are formed in your eyes. Welt takes a step to you but you take a step back, shaking your head. “No, don’t come closer to me.”

“I need to be close to you.” He pleads softly and you shake your head. “No, especially not after what you wrote to me.”

“Did I write something bad to you?”

“You professing your love for me in the letters is bad enough.”

“Is that so?” Welt takes a step closer.

“Stop!” You take a step back the more he steps closer to you. But to no avail, you feel your dresser at the back of your thighs and you push at Welt’s chest. But since he’s so strong, it’s to no avail. He traps you between him and the dresser, caging you in by placing each hand on each side of you on the dresser.

“Is me loving you really that bad, wife?” You nod your head. “Yes.”

“Why?”

“You’re too late.” You retort and Welt sighs.

“You’re undermining yourself too much.” Welt says and pulls his body closer into you. Your body meets his fully, if he gets closer enough, your breasts will get squeezed up against his chest. Then you feel his hands on your waist before he lifts you up to make you sit on the dresser. Then he stands between your thighs and you try to push him away. He grabs your hands in each hand of his. He sees how much you’ve fiddled with your hands to the point you’ve been scratching at your nails.

“You need to stop doing this.” He softly mumbles as he takes your fingers closer to his face before he kisses your fingertips, all while looking you in the eyes. Your breath hitches and your tears fell down even more.

“It’s never too late to fall in love with you.” He softly tells you, looking into your eyes.

“Stop doing this to me, please. It hurts.” You whine and Welt shakes his head. He lets go of your hands and cups your face. He wipes your tears away but they just keep coming.

“Please, stop crying baby.” He pleads and you shake your head. “It’s all your fault. For hurting me like this, for playing with my feelings and faking those letters. I thought you loved and cherished me.”

“I do, I still love you! You’re all I think about every single second of all days.”

“You’re lying.” You shake your head again. “I don’t believe you.”

“Would you believe me I did this to you out of fear?” And your eyes widen. You look at Welt and see how his eyes are glistening in tears.

“Would you believe me if I said I faked those letters because of my fear of marriage?”

“I don’t know what you’re trying to say.” Your voice shakes. “Did you hurt me because you’re afraid of being married? I don’t understand, Welt.” Said man wishes he could focus on the way you said his name, the way he got to hear your pretty voice utter his name and not by his title.

“Since I’ve grown up, I’ve witnessed my parent’s marriage. To say it was bad is an understatement. Because of these two, marriages have left a bad taste for me.”

“Then why did you marry me?” You grip onto the front of his clothes, trying to shake him. “Why me, Welt? You would have spared me all this misery and your apologies had you not married me!” You cry out.

“Because I loved you the moment I met you!” Welt raises his words as his grip on your face pulls you closer to his face and you flinch in surprise. “I’ve loved you since the day your eyes widened at the sight of me, since the day I heard your lovely voice which continues to play out in my head all day long. Ever since I saw your eyes land upon me, I’ve loved you.”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I hurt you, baby. Because of my fear and distrust in marriages, I’ve pushed you away and hurt you in the most unimaginable way. Because I loved you so much, I couldn’t break off our marriage. That would mean your smiles would belong to someone else one day and that lucky man would hear your voice every day.”

“And you would not.” You add in and Welt nods.

“The letters Himeko wrote, I’m sorry. I would’ve prevented all this had I told you everything.”

“And you should’ve told me after sending out the first letter Himeko wrote.” You push at his shoulder. “Did you not feel bad for what you did? Not once?”

“Of course I did.”

“Why did you continue?”

“It would mean our marriage would’ve been spent apart unless for our duties. It would mean I wouldn’t hurt you the way my father hurt my mother.”

“But you did hurt me, Welt.” He flinches and nods his head. “I did.”

“How long are you gonna make it up to me?” You ask and Welt looks at you.

“As long as I live.” He sincerely says, looking into your eyes and your grip on the front of his clothes tightens before swatting at his chest . He lets go of his hold on your face, his hands falling down by your side. He was about to turn away when he felt you stop him by wrapping your thighs around his waist.

“You do not walk away from me, Welt.”

Welt looks at you surprised, he feels his body and face flush in warmth at the way you’re squeezing him with your thighs. He wished he wore lighter clothes so he could feel you even deeper.

“I don’t understand-“ You grab his face and lean in to kiss him. Welt’s eyes widen when he feels your lips upon his. Then you pull away. He stares at you for a few seconds before he takes your lips in a kiss. He wraps his hands around your neck and pulls you in to deepen the kiss. The kiss was slow and deep, as if the love Welt professed in his letters to you wasn’t enough, he poured out even more in the kiss. You could cry from this alone and you did. Welt tastes some salt in the kiss, he pulls away panting when he sees how you’re crying.

“Why are you crying? I’m so sorry baby, I’m so-“ his words are cut off by your lips on his.

“I cant-“ he gets cut off when you kiss down on his lower lip. He groans when you nip on his lips then he pulls away once more. You whine at the loss of his mouth on yours. “Baby, please tell me why you’re crying.”

“It’s you!” You cry out before kissing him once more. Welt is surprised but he was also confused, what did he do this time? He just wants to make it up to you and have you quit crying. The sight of your tears is constant daggers at his heart. He can’t stand the sight of them.

He pulls your face away from his and you whimper out once more. “Stop doing that.” You plead, about to go in for one more kiss. Why is he being insufferable? Why can’t he just let you kiss him?

“I don’t understand what I did, my love. If I don’t know why you’re crying and I’m the reason for it, I won’t be able to survive until I know you’re satisfied with my apologies.” He rambles on and you just stare at him. He grows even more confused but flustered, especially at how you’re glancing down at his lips. And mostly because of the way your hands are trailing down from his face to his collarbone and stopping at his chest. You slide your fingers in the opening of his buttoned shirt, feeling his bare skin on your fingertip. He feels you squeeze him even tighter with your thighs, he almost yelped forward.

“Who told you I was satisfied with your first apologies in the first place?” And Welt turns quiet. You see the screws unfold in his head before you lightly giggle at his reaction, then your giggles turn into laughter when you see he gets even more confused.

“So you pretended to have forgiven me just to kiss me?” He finally catches on to your teasing and your eyes widens. “I didn’t know my darling wife had this side to her.” He lightly gasps and you swat at his chest.

“Maybe if you didn’t make Himeko write these letters and you wrote them in the first place, we would have consummated our marriage on our wedding night.” And then it was your time to shut up. Both yours and Welts eyes widened in surprise at your words. Feeling embarrassed and utterly humiliated by what you said, you push Welt away. He moves to the side and when you get off your dresser and take a few steps away from him, he grabs your wrist and turns you around.

You couldn’t protest before you feel yourself get lifted in the air then suddenly you feel something soft on your entire back. Welt just threw you on your bed. Then he gets on your bed and you try to get away but it’s to no avail.

He pins you on the bed, spreading your thighs as he seats himself between them. He takes off his outer garment, throws it aside before he hovers above you.

“Welt- what are you doing?” You stutter out, flustered at the way he manhandled you so easily. You knew your husband was a strong man, he carried a sword for aeon’s sake. Those things are heavy. Of course he can handle you physically like you weigh nothing.

“I’m not letting you go until you tell me why I made you cry.”

“I have answered your question-oh!” You feel him nip on your neck. He licks the spot on your neck before he lightly sucks on it. Soft moans leave your lips as you grip onto his hair.

“No, my darling wife, you did not.” He mumbles against your skin. Now he’s lowering down to your collarbone. Because of your nightgown being of such soft material, it was easy to tug it down. If Welt tugged it even further with his finger, your breasts would spill out of their confinements in your nightgown. He does the same thing he did to your neck on your collarbone.

“Ah! Welt, not there, it’s gonna be difficult to cover up with my dresses.” You manage to say and Welt shakes his head. “If it’s impossible to cover up, that’s good enough for me.” He trails his hands from your collarbone down your sides to grip onto your thighs. As you move below his body to get out of his body hovering over you, you brush your heat against his clothed crotch and Welt moans. You stop in your actions.

“I told you I wouldn’t stop until you answer my question.” Welt mutters out before he lightly rolls his hips against yours and a breathy moan escapes your lips. This feels so good, you run your hands over his back. You crumple his clothes in your hands before you could feel his bare skin on his back.

“Then I won’t answer your question.” Welt’s eyes darken at your words. His hold on your thighs moves up and he squeezes your breasts through your nightgown. You gasp at the touch. He feels how your nipples are perked through your gown and he pinches them through the material. You let out a hitched moan. He does all this while also rolling his hips against you.

“I’ve dreamt about you like this. Below me, at my mercy as you let out sweet sounds by how I make you feel.” Welts words have you deeply sighing. “That day at the fountain? It plays out in my mind every day. Every day I wonder what would have happened had I tugged your chemise off and let your breasts spill out.” You moan at his words and at his hips softly rolling against you. You shake your head, whispering soft ‘stop’ but he doesn’t stop.

“Had I stood between your thighs, would you have let me take you right then and there?” Your eyes widens but you shake your head, Welt chuckles deeply. “Baby, if you react like this, are you sure you wouldn’t let me?” You bite down on your lower lip then give up, your head nods and you see how Welt smiles.

“You would have been with my child already if we consummated our marriage at the fountain.” Welt leans down to whisper by your ear and your eyes widens. Shoots of pleasure run through your body and you feel your heart beat even faster at the thought of what he said. “My child.” He mumbles as he lightly bites down your earlobe. You whine as you shake your head.

“I wouldn’t let you do that.” You huff out but whines escape your lips when you feel how Welt stops rolling his hips against you. He stares at you and you were about to cry because of him doing that when he chuckles.

“Look at you, do you not see how your fingers are fumbling with my pants, my love?” At his words, you look down and see how he’s right. Did you just subconsciously reach down to do this? You grow flustered.

He resumes his hips rolling against yours and you feel a knot form in your lower abdomen. You dug your heels into his back as you grip onto his hair this time.

“Welt, I will-oh!” Your knot in your abdomen grows tighter when you feel one of his hands on your bare cunt and he rolls his fingertips on your clit. As he continues for a few more moments, the knot releases, your thighs shudder and you feel a wave of relief come over you.

“Do you not wear underwear, wife?” And you feel even hotter and flustered than you did before. Welt pulls his hand out from below your gown and you see his fingers covered in your slick. You see how he’s looking at it, then your eyes widen when he takes them in his mouth. “No don’t-“ and his eyes fluttered at the taste of you. Not being able to handle how he reacted to the taste of your essence, you turn your head to the side.

“I cried because your love for me is overwhelming in every way possible.” You ignore his question right now to answer his other one. With your head tilted to the side, your hands fall from his back to hold onto the bed sheets.

“Is it a good thing, my love?”

Seeing you nod your head, Welt felt a surge of happiness wash over him and he slumps his entire body over your own. You let out a oumph because this man is heavy. You push at his side trying to make him get off and release his entire body weight off yours.

“I love you.” He mutters against your neck before he buries his face there. Welt felt happy once more when you, for the first time, wrapped your hands around his body to hug him.

—

The same day, Welt had fallen asleep in your arms. He was lightly snoring with his head on your chest. You were still in your chemise and you felt how sticky your thighs felt when you rub them against each other.

With the heavy man on your body, you tried to not wake him up as you slid your arms away from below him and gently put his head on the pillow. He moves in his sleep but grabs onto your chemise. Even though he's asleep, he’s somehow got a hold on you. You gently unfold his fingers on your chemise and get up from the bed.

You approach the bowl of water, take the towel and clean yourself up. While you do, you remember what had occurred after he came home.

You never knew he hurt you because he grew up with a bad image of a marriage. When it’s understandable why he grew to detest it, it doesn’t justify him hurting you the way he did. But you’re telling yourself his words and actions are sincere. This man has cried in front of you multiple times, he’s put your own comfort before his without hesitation and complains. He’s told you his deepest part of himself.

Your heart and love has always been with Welt, even through the time he’s done everything to have you forgive him. And you have.

As your thoughts wander further, you remember what happened after he told you everything. Your body flushes in warmth and your heart beats faster. The way he made you feel by his body and his hands touching you in your most intimate parts. You hastily clean yourself up and are about to adjust your chemise when you feel a pair of arms wrap around you from behind. You lightly yelp in surprise and Welt giggles at your reaction as he nuzzles his face in your neck.

“It’s gotten late, I didn’t realize we fell asleep.” Welt mumbles against your neck and you hum in reply as you put the towel back in the bowl of water.

You turn around to face him and Welt looks at you. As you look into his eyes, you see how they’re getting wet and you get worried.

“Why are you sad, Welt?” He shakes his head, smiling as you cup his face. He nuzzles his face into your palms. “You’re finally looking at me, I’m just happy is all.” At his words you chuckle.

“Didn’t know you were such a crybaby.” You tease lightly and Welt playfully rolls his eyes. As he did that, a tear fell down and you giggled at the sight. “I think you’ve cried more than me actually.” He sighs and you pout.

“Did you clean yourself up? I thought I ended up in a different bedroom when I didn’t see you in bed.” You nod your head, growing flustered as to why you cleaned yourself up.

“Do you wanna take a bath?” He asks and you nod your head. “Yeah, I’ve been cooped up in the bedroom all day.”

Welt calls for a maid to run a bath for you. As she prepares the bath, she doesn’t miss the two love marks on your neck and collarbone. She hastily looked away blushing and you saw it all. You subconsciously put your hands on your neck as Welt was still in the room. If he sees you flustered, you think he’d tease you all night long. And maybe say these sweet words he told you hours before. Your heart fluttered at the thought.

“The bath is done, your majesty.” The maid says as she bows her head. You thank her softly and the maid sees how your husband is still in the room and how you haven’t undressed yet to get into the bath.

“Fetch a servant for the king, to run a bath for himself as well.” As soon as you utter these words, you feel a warm presence behind you. Welt strokes his fingers up and down your wrist before intertwining your hand.

“There’s no need for that, you may leave.” Welt speaks up from behind you and your body burns up and you grow even more flustered.

“Yes, your majesty.”

The maid bows and leaves you two alone. You didn’t speak a word as Welt undressed himself before helping you. You feared if you did, there’d be no stopping your stuttering. Your heart feels like it’s gonna beat out of its place when you see Welt in his naked glory, which you refused to let your eyes wander further down, get inside the bath and reach his hand out for you to take. And you did. He helps you step inside the bath.

He leans against the bathtub and sees how your body further disappears in the water as you lean on the other side of the bathtub. Welt complains to the aeons in his head, why’s the water of cream-ish colour? Had it been clear water, he would be able to see your beautiful body. Welt internally slaps himself for his perverse thoughts.

“You could’ve had a bath run for yourself.” You mumble. He sees you draw circles on the water and he smiles. “And not take the chance to have a bath with my lovely wife?” He grins at you. He takes your hand and tugs you forward. But you don’t budge.

“Come on.” Welt pouts and you shake your head. “No.” You simply say and Welt pouts even more.

“Why not?” And you shrug your shoulders. “I don’t know.” You say as you submerge your lower half of your face in the water. Welt looks at you confused but then he sees how you refuse to meet his eyes. And it clicks in his head.

“Are you nervous, my love?” Your eyes widened in surprise and you shook your head. “No I’m not.” You retort and Welt chuckles.

“You are.”

“I am not.”

“Yes, you are nervous.”

“I said I’m not!” You stand up in haste from the bath. Which resulted in water almost splashed at Welt. He wipes the water that landed on his face with his hand before he looks at you. You’re standing with your fists by your thighs and there’s water droplets running down your body.

You look like you’ve been carved by the aeons themselves. You are divine.

You realized what you did when you felt Welt’s hand graze yours. When he softly strokes your wrist before softly intertwining your fingers, he lightly tugs you forward.

“Come to me.” His voice was deep but so gentle, all you did was quietly obey despite your eyes widening a little.

He made you sit in between his thighs and when his brown eyes locked with yours, you felt your body flush but all he did was show you a gentle smile. He gently cups your face, leans in and presses a soft kiss to your forehead.

“If you place your hand on my heart, you’d feel how fast it’s beating when I’m in close proximity to you.” He confesses softly by your ear then pulls away. So you place your hand on his chest and he’s right.

It’s pounding so fast and hard against his skin, if it was possible, you think you could hear his heartbeats without a tool for it or being far from him.

You feel his hands trail down the sides of your body and then he lightly turns your body around. As if it’s a common thing, you lean your body against his chest. His arms are warm and snug as they’re wrapped around your waist.

“My heart has been like this ever since I met you. If I hear your familiar steps, or mentions of you, it truly feels like all my heart and soul wants to do is to be with you.” His words do nothing but bring happy tears to your eyes as your own heart swells up in love for him. You feel him stroke your abdomen, rubbing circles on your skin and you feel so content and in love.

“I regret every day for hurting you. And I regret not being a good man to you.”

“But you are, even if I have said something different from that months ago.” You hastily throw in as you look up at him and you hear Welt chuckle.

“My love, a good man doesn’t hurt the one he loves. Which I did.” He strokes your cheek softly and you shake your head.

“But you made it up to me, have you not? In every words you’ve written to me in your own letters and in every single thing you’ve done for me.” You tell him as you flip your body around. You kneel in front of him as you cup his face.

“You may have hurt me deeply but you gained my forgiveness. You have earned me back, Welt.” You told him, looking into his eyes and Welt’s brown eyes widened as if he couldn’t believe your words.

“Have I, truly?” He sounded so unsure and you flash him a soft smile. Before speaking up once more, you take your seat on his lap by placing each thigh of yours beside each side of his body. Welt looks down at how your body is connected so intimately and he holds onto your waist.

“A man who hasn’t earned me, wouldn’t make my heart race out of its place in my ribcage and have it be held in your hands to be kept safe.“ Welt’s eyes flicker all over your face and he sees such a genuine smile on your face and his grip on your waist tightens.

“If you haven’t earned me, I wouldn’t have loved you even during the times you did everything to gain my forgiveness.” You see how his eyes wells up in tears and you can’t help the giggle that escapes your mouth.

“I knew you could be this endearing ever since I saw you enter the lounge room when we first met each other.” You stroke his cheek with your thumb and Welt chuckles lightly.

“What I didn’t know is that I would have fallen for the same man who blushes at the mere presence of me and whose heart escapes his chest every time when I’m in proximity or mentioned.” You confess to him and tears fall down Welt’s eyes.

“I’m sorry for all I did.” He shakes his head, his voice quavering and you lightly shake yours. “I know you are.” You softly tell him.

“I love you endlessly.” His grip on your waist is hardening and your own eyes wells up in tears at the raw emotion and the pure love you feel emitting from Welt. “I love you, Welt.” His tear stricken eyes and face stills before he pulls your body in closer and rubs his face in your bare chest, his hands grazing up and down your bare back, squeezing you here and then.

“Every moment of my day is spent thinking of you, not a day goes by where I don’t wanna see your beautiful face or hear your voice. Not a day in this world is there a moment I don’t love you.” He leans away and holds your neck gently, gazing into your eyes and you lightly bite down on your lips at the intense stare of his eyes and how much love you can see in them. All of it feels overwhelmingly good.

“I may be a king of this kingdom and to the people, but I am yours.” He articulated so firmly, you didn’t know what else to do but just softly nod your head as you softly suck in your bottom lip and Welt’s eyes flickers down to your lips. He subconsciously leans in and you do as well but your mouths just brushes against each other. It’s as if this could be the first time you feel each other's lips upon each other.

“Can I kiss you?” His whisper was quiet but you heard it. A soft chuckle leaves your lips before you nod your head. “Yes.” You mumble out before he presses his lips on yours.

It felt like you could finally breathe, so you breathe into the kiss before kissing Welt back. If he didn’t verbally confess his love, this would be it. Your lips a tangled mess, all you could do is kiss and kiss, flutter your hands down his chest and feel his bare skin.

Greedy and needing more and more, Welt gently squeezes your neck as you softly moan into the kiss before he tilts your head to deepen the kiss deeper than ever. Your hands reach up tug on his hair and pull his head back, to meet his lips in a needier kiss.

Welt’s hand flutters down your body and your body flutters in ecstasy at his touch, even his touches are overwhelmed with love. You’re soft and warm everywhere as his own body is firm and hardened against yours.

With a firmer tug to his hair, Welt groans into the kiss and you take the chance to nibble and suck on his tongue and drew a guttural sound from him as you continued down to nibble on his lower lip. Your lips wander down to his jaw, pressing kisses and emitting sounds from Welt you’d imagine about. Your lips wander further down to his neck, at a certain spot, it had Welt squirming from below you and you decided to give that one place more attention. Attention by sucking before lightly biting down, extracting a breathy moan from his mouth.

About to continue, you felt Welt wrap his hands around your neck before he leaned your head away. You let out a soft whine before you got shut up by a rough kiss, you moan into his mouth before a gasp draws out from you when you feel Welt’s hand on your backside.

“Marking me like that, my love, I could have come from that alone when I’d rather do that inside of you.” This was his first mention of coming inside you and you felt your heat squeeze down on nothing.

“Coming inside just to fill me up or to make me with child?” And his hips bucks into your cunt from below and you moan at the friction you felt.

“Careful, I did also say I wanna enjoy our time as two for a while.” He says against your mouth and a soft whimper is heard from you before you nod your head. So it’s just to fill you up, you think to yourself, your entire body feels like it’s on something else than just ecstasy. It feels like an addiction.

And to Welt, you are an addiction. The way your body responds to him, the way only he can make such sweet sounds emit from your soft lips and the way he’s the only one to have you. You might not have said it yourself, but while Welt is yours, you are wholeheartedly his.

It is an obsession.

—

The Duke and Duchess of Stellaron were met with their king and queen at their doorstep, without guards and footmen. They were holding hands and the king had a reddish color to his cheeks. And the queen’s smile was so big, you’d wonder if her cheeks hurt. The happiness was immense if you looked at the two.

Apparently you and Welt decided to do a little runaway from the country mansion, have a little time for you two without your staff. The duke and the duchess couldn’t hold back their laughter when you told them of how you managed to be alone without your staff.

To be with these two, you’re glad you found a friendship in them.

You were walking side by side with the duchess, arms linked together as her husband and yours walked in front of you, chatting away about something.

“You look happy, my queen.” The duchess softly says and you look at her with a smile.

“I am happy.” You assure her and she smiles back at you.

“I’ve always felt your smile wasn’t wholeheartedly real just a week ago. I suspect the king is the reason behind your smile right now.” You giggle at the duchess's words before nodding your head.

“We had a long year and to have mended our relationship, it has lightened my shoulders. And I also have you to thank for it.” The duchess stills in surprise, you know she’s gonna ask what she could have possibly done to make it better. So you speak before she could.

“My husband told me of how you suggested that he shall talk to me, not just apologize. While my husband may be a wise king, as a man I doubt he’d think of that solution.” You chuckle at your own words and the duchess tries to hold back her laugh. But in the end, she stops you two from walking and takes your hand in a soft grasp.

“I’m truly happy to see my dear friend and my queen, to be so happy. And I’m glad a simple solution of mine has made your relationship with the king better.” You softly thank her once more and as you’re about to continue your walk with the duchess, your husband approaches you.

“My love, our guards have found us.” Welt says as he points behind him and you giggle. He looks almost defeated to have his escapade with you ended so quickly. And his talk with the duke, whose company he’s grown to enjoy. And have possibly found a friendship in.

“I think it’s time for us to go home, Welt.” You tell him as Welt takes your hand in his and he sighs, agreeing much with your words.

—

The staff at the royal mansion in the Kingdom of Astral have never seen their king and queen this happy. While Welt always takes your hand as he helps you down the carriage, you two immediately went to your own routines when entering the mansion, but this time, you two are engaged in a handhold.

The floor your bedchamber and Welt is at, has become different as well. It was well known that the king and queen never shared a bedchamber but to see you two enter one bedchamber together and share it, the staff couldn’t help but feel only happiness for you two.

“Do you think the servants find it uncommon for us to share a bedchamber now?” You ask Welt from your chaise as you comb your hair. He’s taking off his robe, revealing his toned and firm upper body. Disappointingly, he kept his pants on.

“I can imagine it’s an unusual sight for them.” He replies as you nod in agreement. Welt comes up behind you. He takes the comb in your hand and brushes your hair for you.

“This is our first night together in this bedchamber.” You hear Welt say and your heart flutters. A year ago, you started having separate bedchambers and now a year later, you’re sharing one.

“I can go to the other one if you want to.” You tease Welt but he doesn't seem to catch on, so he stops brushing your hair and stills in shock. You see his reaction from the mirror of your dresser. You turn around and you laugh, Welt’s eyes widened as he catches on. He falls down on his knees, burying his face on your lap.

“Oh aeons, you frightened me.” He breathes out in relief as you giggle. You run your fingers through his brown hair. “I don’t think I can’t go a day without sleeping in the same bed as you.” You hear Welt huff out and you giggle once more.

“Then you shall never hurt me, nor I you.” You say as Welt looks up. He holds your waist and kneels in between your thighs. As tall he is, he is still taller as he kneels in front of you. He nods his head firmly.

“I vow to never hurt you, I promise you that.” You smile at him as you nod your head. “I know you do.” You assure him.

“And if you hurt me, I possibly deserved it.” You lightly swat his chest at his words as he grins at you. Then he stands up as he grabs your hand. He pulls you to the bed. You get in the covers as Welt does it as well. Not a second passed by when your head touched the pillow, Welt’s arms are wrapped around you and your body is plush against his chest.

You place your forehead on his bare shoulder, breathing in his scent by the V of his neck. He smells so good. You didn’t miss the touch of Welt pressing a loving kiss on the top of your head.

“I love you.” He utters softly as he cranes his head down to brush his lips against your mouth. You smile softly, rubbing your lips against his. “I know you do.” You mutter back. And Welt knows you love him back.

—

pervert welt gets me going whouhfffffff

Also if you read till the end, thank you so much! i hope you enjoyed this fic as much as I enjoyed writing this >< leave a like and reblog if you did, would be so much appreciated mwah

#honkai star rail imagines #honkai star rail scenarios #honkai star rail welt #welt yang #welt yang imagines #welt yang scenarios #hsr welt #hsr imagines #hsr scenarios #hsr smut #honkai star rail smut #welt yang smut #welt yang x reader #welt smut #welt x reader #hsr x reader #welt hsr #welt honkai star rail

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red-riot-unbreakable-heart · 10 months ago

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A Long, *Hard* Night with Eijiro Kirishima

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Ship: Kirishima x Fem Reader!!!!

Note: Ok my first Smut post - this is explicit so A18+ ONLY!!

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Romance, S*xual Tension, Dating

cw: MDNI!, fem reader, adult Pro-heros, all characters are A20+, blowjob, finger fucking, dirty talk, explicit content, romance

My Master List!

The first time you give Kirishima a blowjob, he asks you to use a condom.

It all starts out hot, heavy and hazy. A late night out with your joint friend group at the bar lead to a few close brushes and stolen glances. You both had been flirting shamelessly with each other for weeks.

You’re chatting with Mina and watching the cute bar tender pour espresso martinis when you feel your phone buzz. You pull the device out of your pocket and see a message from Kirishima flash across the screen – You wanna get out of here?

Instantly your eyes lock across the crowded bar and he hits you with a mischievous grin. There’s a question in his eyes as he nods towards the door. You smile back wickedly, and it’s the only answer he needs.

A half hour later you’re in his bed, running your hands under his shirt and across his toned stomach. Kirishima kisses down your neck and you moan as his hands creep under the hem of your shirt. Before long, you’re both in your underwear and breathing heavy.

You climb off of the pro hero and slide off the bed. He pouts at the loss of contact.

You stand back and drink him in – he’s absolutely gorgeous. His hair has fallen out of its usually spiked-up style and lies flat, dropping almost to his shoulders. The past few years of hero work show in his toned muscle and in the light scars that crisscross his upper chest and arms. His boxers stretch tightly across his toned thighs and you can see his arousal clearly through the thin black fabric. You almost lick your lips as you imagine what he looks like naked. Kirishima is so turned on right now that he can barely stand it. Yet there he lies - sweet faced and smiling at you. He’s eager to please, and very much enjoying the attention your eyes are giving his body. He likes the hungry look in your eyes as you appraise him.

“Come here.” You motion for him to slide to the edge of the bed. He obliges, drawn to you like a moth to flame. As he moves to the end of his bed, you slowly kneel before him. “I’m about to give you the best head of your life.”

You can tell that he loves hearing that – it’s so hot, the way you’re using your commanding pro hero tone on him. You see his dick twitch through the thin fabric of his boxers at the promise of your lips around him.

You grin, running a fingertip down his chest, across the expanse of his muscled stomach, and right to the elastic of his boxers. He shivers at the delicate contact. You move to slip your hand beneath the waistband of his underwear when he lightly grabs your hand to stop you.

“Hey – can we slow down for a minute?” He says sheepishly, looking down at you with soft eyes. You blink, the tension between you suddenly broken.

“Of course.” You say, worrying that you did something to make the unbreakable hero uncomfortable. He holds out a hand and pulls you to your feet, inviting you to sit next to him on the bed so that you’re on even ground.

“What’s up? Do you want to stop?” You ask, concern lacing your voice. You and Kirishima have known each other for a few years as casual friends, but you don’t know much about his dating history. The two of you have never discussed past hookups and now you wonder if he has some sexual trauma that you have unwittingly triggered.

“Oh my God – no! I absolutely want to keep going.” He says sincerely, reaching out to put a large, warm hand on your bare thigh. The contact turns you on so fast you need to squeeze your legs together to keep your libido at bay. Kirishima smirks, and you know your reaction didn’t go unnoticed. “I’ve pictured this night with you for weeks – months, even. I’ve wanted you so bad since you wore that crazy dress at the agency’s winter gala last year.”

You smile, thinking back to the strappy blue number you wore to the party of the year. The glittery high heels. The long, elegant slit up your left leg. You had been an absolute bombshell. But still - it’s shocking to think that Kirishima has burned for you for this long.

“Then did I do something that you didn’t like? Talk to me Eijiro.” The use of his given name takes him a bit by surprise. He can’t quite meet your eyes as he struggles to string an answer together.

“Well – shit this is awkward – I want a blowjob. Of course I want a blowjob from you – you’re the hottest girl I’ve ever met!” His hand, still on your thigh, squeezes pointedly as he says this. “But since it’s our first time together and we really haven’t discussed where we stand on exclusivity and STI tests…I’d really appreciate it if you let me wear a condom while you do it. If you still want to do it, that is.”

You look at him, perplexed. You think that never, in the history of all mankind, has a man so desperate to get his dick sucked asked to wear a condom during the act.

“It’s not that I don’t trust you. It’s just that – I think it’s the most responsible way to move forward until we have time to properly sit down and talk through what this is.” He gestures at the two of you with his free hand. And then it hits you – this is some classic chivalry shit. Kirishima is trying to set a boundary that respects the sexual and physical health of everyone involved. You grin.

“I’ve never done it that way before, but if you help me along I’m sure I’ll get the hang of it in no time.”

Kirishima’s body seems to sag with relief. “I know it’s a little weird…but it’s really important to me. I’ve had some challenges with partners in the past and I-”

You silence him with a kiss. “Eijiro, it’s totally fine. You don’t need to explain. Unless there’s any other boundaries or trauma triggers you want to talk through before we go any further?”

His smile is wide. “I knew you were cool the moment I met you. Nah, that’s it for now. I just ask that you let me know if you’re not into something. We can stop anytime you want.” He gets up and walks across the room to his dresser, popping open the second drawer and reaching inside to produce a bright orange box of flavored condoms.

“The chivalrous hero is always prepared.” You say sarcastically, smiling as he blushes a deep red.

“I’ve got a great handle on my brand – even in the bedroom.” He waggles his eyebrows suggestively and the two of you laugh. He cracks open the box and pulls out a string of bright foil condoms, the packaging glints in the low light. “What flavor would you prefer? We’ve got strawberry, banana, grape…oh, shit! I forgot they come in different colors, too.”

“What colors we talking?” You look over curiously.

“Let’s see…” He holds up the packages so he can read in the semi-darkness. “We’ve got red, yellow, purple, and green. It’s your pick!”

“Omg let’s do green…” You cover your mouth as you cackle out “so you can have a…cucumber dick!! Ha!” Kirishima laughs along with you and tears off the green condom package, haphazardly abandoning the rest of the box in his half-opened dresser drawer.

He walks back over to the bed and sits down, handing the shiny package to you. “You’re in control of this next part.” He says softly, and you can see he’s getting hard again underneath his boxers. You feel a spark in the pit of your stomach.

“Oh yeah? Number 12 Pro-Hero Red Riot likes to be taken care of?” You slide off the bed and get back into kneeling position beneath him, your small hands sliding up his muscular thighs and squeezing. He groans as you run your right hand slowly up his clothed length, dragging your finger along the sensitive tip of his cock.

“You’re being so good for me…” You whisper, dipping your fingertips underneath the waistband of his boxers to feel soft skin. You tease him, running your hand along the sensitive “V” of his waist, avoiding his dick. His eyes close and his head drops back. Oh – it seems that Kirishima has a praise kink. You smile at this delicious development, and decide to see how far you can push him.

“You’re getting so hard for me, baby.” You pull your hand out from under his boxers and reach up to slide them smoothly down his toned legs. He whimpers and lifts his ass to help you take off his underwear. His rock hard cock springs out of the garment and comes to rest flush against his taught abs. Unsurprisingly, he’s huge – you absentmindedly lick your lips as you take in his perfect length. He is just as beautiful as you imagined – and his tip is absolutely dripping with anticipation.

You toss his boxers over your shoulder and reach for the flavored condom. You examine the thin square and see a small watermelon emoji printed on the smooth silver packaging. You smirk and look up to see Kirishima staring at you from up on the bed, pupils blown wide with arousal. His left hand is twitching towards his dick, seemingly waiting for permission. You meet his gaze as you bring the package to your mouth and slowly tear the perforated strip back using your bright teeth. “Touch yourself for me, baby.” And he does, grasping his member lightly as he begins to pleasure himself with gentle, languid strokes. He watches you pull out the condom, features taught with anticipation.

“Good boy.” You whisper, and he groans in response. “I’m gonna make you feel sooo good with my mouth, Eijiro.”

He picks up his pace. His cock is so hard you can see it spasm in his hand. “My rock hard hero.” He smiles at the endearment.

After a few moments, you put your hand to his wrist and motion for him to stop. He releases his dick and it springs back to attention against his rippling abdomen. You lean forward and place the bright green condom on his length, taking your time to slowly roll it down all the way to the base of his member. He shudders at the intimate touch, and his eyes widen as you cleanly spit into the palm of your hand. You reach to stroke his dick a few times to make sure the condom’s in place, and realize that the green latex comes pre-lubricated. Your saliva mixes with a thin sheen of liquid, causing your hand to move smoothly across Kirishima’s hard dick.

“You seem to know exactly what you’re doing.” He pants, grinning as you continue to pump his length.

“Well what can I say? I’m a Pro at everything I do.” You mutter before leaning forward to pull his cock into your mouth. He hisses at the unexpected contact as you circle his tip with the edge of your tongue.

“Baby…” He whines out, as you move to drag your tongue up the underside of his dick.

“Wow you’re big.” You whisper, re-tracing up his length again. You look up at him through your lashes. “An impressive dick for an impressive goddamn hero.”

He absolutely loves that, and suddenly he’s scrambling to pull you up into his lap so that you’re straddling him. He kisses you fiercely, eyes closed, one hand twisted in your hair. And you’re kissing him back with just as much fervor – gasping as you feel his hard length press against your wet panties.

“I think we should take these off.” He says between kisses, reaching blindly to push your underwear down. You stand up shakily and stumble as you try to hop out of your practical cotton panties. You strip them off and toss them into a pile with Kirishima’s boxers.

You don’t even have a second to breathe before he pulls you back into his lap and starts sloppily making out with you again. You both groan as his condomed dick slips against your wet pussy. You reach down and reposition his length it so that he’s right against your clit. He grinds slowly against you, making you both see stars.

Kirishima kisses down your jawline and up to your ear to whisper: “I’m not ready to have penetrative sex just yet – is it ok if we just keep going like this?” You nod breathlessly as you roll your hips against his hard dick, already close to orgasm. It’s slippery and hot and he knows exactly what he’s doing as he licks his fingers and reaches between you to massage your swollen clit.

“You’re so gorgeous.” He pants, moving his fingers deftly against you. “I’ve always wanted to see you like this – absolutely undone and naked on top of me.”

“Eijiro…” You whimper as he rolls against you again. The lube of the condom allows his cock to slip comfortably along your folds. “I’m…I’m gonna cum! Is it okay if I cum?” Your face starts to heat up as you feel an orgasm welling up in the pit of your stomach.

“Yes! Yes, please – cum for me baby.” His voice is rough as you feel your body start to shudder and explode. You’re dimly aware of him whispering, “Oh my God, this is the hottest thing that’s ever happened to me.”

You ride out your orgasm slowly, gasping at the way his fingers continue to draw out your pleasure. He’s smiling as his fingers and cock slip against you, a wave of heat between the two of you. You laugh as he slows his pace, then removes his hand when you become too sensitive. He envelops you in an embrace, bringing his fingertips up to trace along your back softly. You shiver as you come down from your high, your head swimming with an image of his sharp red eyes clouded over with lust.

“That was...” You turn your head so that your foreheads touch. You kiss him soundly. “That was just…wow. I knew you had to be good with your hands…but that. That was a whole other level of Pro Hero work.” You both laugh, his face is glowing with the praise.

“Hey, anytime.” Kirishima leans forward to kiss you back. “And I mean anytime.”

Your heart leaps at the implication, and your brain jumps through a few hot situations where you’d like to ask Kirishima to drop what he’s doing to pleasure you. One particular fantasy comes to mind, in which you’re locking your office door while Eijiro sits on your desk unbuckling his belt. You shake your head to clear away an image of him fucking you in your office. One hookup at a time, girl! You refocus.

“If it’s alright with you…I’d like to suck your dick properly now.” You plant a wet kiss on his left cheek. You can tell that Eijiro is trying not to seem overeager, but the impatient cock throbbing against your pussy is a dead giveaway.

“I’d really love that, cutie.” He leans forward to catch your mouth in another of his searing kisses. A moment later, you swing your legs off of him and your feet hit the ground shakily. You didn’t realize how much the orgasm had taken out of you as you duck-walk over to his dresser. Wordlessly, you open a drawer and fish out the brightly colored box of condoms.

“Let’s do red this time…for Red Riot.” You find a strawberry flavored condom and quickly tear the foil packaging. You turn to see Eijiro sitting on the bed practically quaking with anticipation. You smirk, legs like jelly as you return to the bed with the fresh condom.

You bend over him and swap out the slippery, stretched green condom for the fresh red one. When you’re done, you give his rock hard member an approving pat. “There – good as new!”

He laughs with you as he sinks back into the bed, ready for you to work your magic. It’s nice to be this comfortable with someone – to be able to joke in between the sex. To be shamelessly naked in another person’s presence. You can’t remember the last time you’ve slept with someone like this – the last time it was this easy.

You spread his legs out and push him the rest of the way into the mattress before kneeling on the ground between muscular thighs.

“Hold on a sec – here, take this.” He reaches behind his head to grab a pillow, which he lobs your way. You smile appreciatively as you tuck the pillow beneath your knees.

“You’re such a gentleman.” You praise, before running your tongue up his length. “Now let’s reward you for being so manly and chivalrous.” It’s almost funny how those words are almost enough to push Eijiro over the edge. His face flushes and you see his hands grip the sheets above you.

“You like it when I praise you, huh? Want me to keep telling you what a good little hero you are?” You lick underneath the tip of his cock, teasing. Eijiro lets out a needy moan. “Such a manly, strong hero. You deserve to be taken care of after working so hard to keep everyone safe.”

And with that, you take his entire length into your mouth. You put on a good show – sloppily bringing your lips down to the base of his cock and running your fingertips along the underside of his balls. You squeeze them experimentally and he groans at the sensation. You begin to bob up and down on his firm member, hollowing out your cheeks with intent to suck the life out of him. He brings a heavy hand up to rest in your hair as you work, smoothing your bangs out of your face as he does so.

You slurp up his dick and can see that he’s getting close. You use your left hand and continue to massage his balls and the base of his cock lightly. You hum softly, and the vibrations of your mouth and throat send absolute shivers up his body. His cock is twitching in your mouth and his balls are all but pulsing in anticipation of his release.

Time for the grand finale - you start to suck on the head of his dick, taking care to stimulate him with some impressive suction before releasing him with a loud “pop” of your lips. He groans at the loss of contact, running his free hand messily through his hair with sexual frustration.

You prop yourself up on your elbows as you take a quick breather. You look at the absolute wreckage of a man laying on the bed before you. His pupils are wide and blissed out and his body is tense as he takes quick and shallow breaths.

You look him straight in the eyes as you let your tongue dart across your wet mouth. You stare him down, a dare mounting in your eyes. You want to drive him completely over the edge, and he knows it. He looks at you hungrily, desperately. “You know…Red Riot has got to be my favorite Pro Hero.”

And with that – he’s gone. Eijiro grabs either side of your face and practically stuffs his dick back into your mouth. You eagerly accept him in, moving your tongue to accommodate his size. Within moments, he’s face fucking you – hands gripping and pulling your hair as he starts to cum in your sweet little mouth.

“Oh my God.” He stutters out, his hips pistoning into you as he rides out his orgasm. His purposeful thrusts draw an unintentional whine of pleasure out of you. The noise makes him smile, and as he finishes his pace begins to slow. Finally, blissed-out and boneless, he slowly pulls his softening dick out of your mouth.

It takes a moment for you to realize that there’s an unexpected advantage of giving a blowjob using a condom – easy cleanup. Eijiro carefully rolls the spent condom off of his member before tying it off and tossing it in a wastepaper basket across the room. He flops blissfully backward onto his bed, butt naked and handsome. He’s covered in a sheen of sweat and looks like he’s absolutely glowing.

He holds his arms out to you expectantly and you climb into them, giggling as he wraps himself around you and rolls you both to the side so he can spoon you. You feel his exhausted cock feebly twitch as it makes contact with your bare ass. You smile to yourself as you wonder how long he will need to recover before he’s hard again.

His arms encircle you with warmth; a big hand comes down to lay flat across the plush skin of your tummy as he rests his chin on your shoulder.

“That was…” He’s trying to find the words to describe the passionate exchange you just shared but comes up flat.

“…the best head you’ve ever had?” You supply helpfully, a sly smile playing at your lips. This earns you a belly laugh as he plants a kiss on the side of your head.

“Yeah. That’s exactly what it was.” He pauses, taking a moment to compose himself. “I swear this isn’t just the afterglow talkin’ – but would you like to go out sometime? I’d like to take you on a real date.”

You open your mouth to respond but he forages on ahead before you have a chance to form words.

“I want to date you. Fully. Exclusively. I want take you to dinner, the movies – even to that stupid hero gala at the end of the year. The works.” He lets out a shaky breath. “I want you to wear that strappy sexy dress to the next work party and I want everyone there to see you and know that I’m your date. I want us to hangout at the bar with our friends and be able to just hold hands and be silly and couple-y. I want to have sex with you like this…all the damn time.”

He sounds so sure of himself as he says this next part – “I’ve felt this way for a while – and I’m hoping that you maybe feel the same?”

You can practically feel his heart jumping in his chest behind you.

“Are you asking me to be your girlfriend Eijiro?”

“Well – we don’t need to put a label on it just yet if you’re not comfortable. We can take some time to feel things out and just-”

“Yes.”

“Huh?” He’s frozen around you, thinking your answer is too good to be true.

“Absolutely. Yes. I want to be your girlfriend.” The tumble of words comes out of your mouth before you even register what’s happening. “Let’s do it all – dates, team-ups, galas, sex. There’s really no one else I’d want to share all of that with. And yeah – I’ve felt this way for a while, too.”

Behind you, Eijiro grins so widely he practically radiates sunshine. “Sounds like we’ve got a full blown relationship on our hands here, sweetheart.”

You feel your face blush at the term of endearment. “Usually I wouldn’t go rushing into something so quickly…but this. Us. I don’t know…it just feels right.” You muse, as he kisses your bare shoulder softly. “I guess we have been shamelessly flirting for months on end though.”

“Gotta love a slow burn.” Kirishima supplies, kissing the side of your head and then shifting away from you as he moves to get off the bed.

“Where are you going, hot stuff?” You gently swat his bare ass as he stands up, delighting in chuckle you elicit from the hardening hero.

He walks around the bed to kneel before you, settling between your legs. He grabs your thighs and pulls you roughly towards him, bringing your butt to the edge of the bed.

“So now that things are all official…I think I’d better return the favor. Any interest in receiving the best head of your life?” He starts kissing up our leg and you shiver with excitement. Oh, hell yes.

“Hold on – if I had to use a condom to blow you, that means that if you’re gonna go down on me you need to use…” You search the deep recesses of your mind and try to recall what you learned in high school sex ed. “…a dental dam? Is that a thing?”

Kirishima pulls away from where he’s licking up your thigh to give you one of his trademarked-shark-toothed grins. “Go check the dresser drawer, there’s a box of them to the right. A good Pro Hero is always prepared.”

You smile back at him – it’s going to be a long, hard night.

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

Thanks for reading!! 💕 You can check out more ~spicy~ fics on My Master List!

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apollogeticx · 2 months ago

Text

✧˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ DUMB & POETIC ♡·˚

— [♡] ; you sprouted love like flowers, growing a garden in your mind and watering the petals with every unshed tear. ｡°. gojo satoru

tags: hanahaki disease, fem!reader, fluff, slow burn, angst, hurt/comfort, emotional growth, vulnerable gojo satoru, recovered feelings, love after trauma, reconciliation, slow healing, happy ending, chapter four of four!

wc. 3.2K

↳ part 1 | part 2 | part 3

The beach house had settled into a rhythm. Yuji, Nobara, and Megumi had kept the energy alive with beach games, bad jokes, and playful arguments. Even you had begun to relax, finding moments of peace between the tension that still occasionally surfaced between you and Gojo. But for the most part, the trip was turning out to be just what you needed—a break from everything that had happened, a chance to breathe.

It wasn’t until the third day, when the sun was high in the sky and the others were down by the shore, that Gojo’s phone rang. He was lounging on the deck, sipping something cold, when the shrill sound of his ringtone broke the lazy quiet. He glanced at the screen, surprised to see Shoko’s name flash across it.

He raised an eyebrow but answered, casually leaning back in his chair. “Hey, Shoko. What’s up?”

“What’s up?” Shoko’s voice came through sharp and annoyed, a tone Gojo didn’t often hear from her. “Are you out of your mind, Gojo?”

Gojo blinked, sitting up straighter at the edge in her voice. “What’s this about?”

There was a pause on the other end, and then Shoko sighed, her frustration palpable even through the phone. “You know what this is about. You dragged them— her —to your beach house? For spring break?”

Gojo frowned, confused. “Yeah, we needed a break. So what?”

“So what? Gojo, are you seriously that oblivious?” Shoko snapped. “Or are you really trying to make her fall in love with you all over again?”

Gojo froze, the words hitting him like a bucket of cold water. “What? No! That’s not—” He trailed off, suddenly unsure. Was that what he was doing? Was that why he’d invited everyone here? Why he’d made sure you came along?

Shoko’s silence on the other end was damning. She let out a frustrated huff before continuing. “Gojo, you might be the strongest sorcerer in the world, but when it comes to this, you’re clueless. Do you even realize what you’re doing? You’re putting her in the same position she was in before the surgery.”

Gojo stood up, moving to the edge of the deck, his hand running through his hair. “That’s not what I’m trying to do,” he insisted, though even as he said it, doubt began creeping in. “I just… I wanted to figure things out. With her. With all of this.”

“Figure things out?” Shoko’s voice was laced with disbelief. “You don’t get it, do you? She almost died because of how deeply she loved you. And now, after all that, you’re bringing her here, spending time with her like this… What do you think is going to happen, Gojo? She’ll just magically fall in love with you again? And this time it’ll be fine because you’re paying attention?”

Gojo clenched his jaw, the weight of her words hitting him harder than he expected. He hadn’t thought about it that way. He hadn’t been trying to manipulate anything—he hadn’t meant for this trip to turn into some kind of emotional trap. But now, hearing Shoko lay it out so plainly, he couldn’t ignore the truth.

Was that what he was doing? Trying to pull you back into his orbit, hoping that maybe—just maybe—you’d fall for him again? He hadn’t even realized it, but now that Shoko had said it out loud, it was impossible to ignore.

“I didn’t…” He trailed off, his voice quieter now. “I didn’t think of it like that.”

“No, you didn’t,” Shoko said, her voice softer but still firm. “You’ve never been good at thinking about the emotional fallout, Gojo. And I get it—you’re used to being able to fix things with power or clever words. But this isn’t something you can just fix by inviting her to a beach house.”

Gojo leaned against the railing, staring out at the ocean, his mind racing. He hadn’t meant for this to happen, hadn’t realized how deeply he was still entangled in everything that had happened between the two of you. But now, with Shoko’s words ringing in his ears, he couldn’t deny the truth. Somewhere along the way, without even realizing it, he had started wanting you to love him again.

He didn’t even know when it had started—maybe it was when he had seen you for the first time after the surgery, standing there with the weight of your love for him gone. Or maybe it was when you had told him, with fear in your voice, that you were afraid of falling for him again. Either way, it was there now, lingering in the back of his mind, in every look, every word.

Shoko’s voice cut through his thoughts. “Look, Gojo… I know you care about her. But you need to be careful. If you really want to help her, if you really care about her, you need to stop thinking about what you want and start thinking about what’s best for her.”

Gojo let out a slow breath, his grip tightening on the railing. “I didn’t… I wasn’t trying to hurt her, Shoko.”

“I know you weren’t,” Shoko replied, her tone softer now. “But just be honest with yourself, Gojo. Are you really ready to face what happens if she does love you again? Or are you going to make the same mistake and push her away when things get complicated?”

Gojo didn’t answer right away, his mind spinning with everything Shoko had said. He hadn’t meant for any of this to happen. But now, standing here, he realized that maybe—just maybe—he had been hoping for something. Something he hadn’t even been able to admit to himself until now.

“I’ll figure it out,” he said finally, his voice quieter, more serious than before. “I don’t want to hurt her again.”

“Good,” Shoko replied, her voice gentle but firm. “Because if you do, Gojo… this time, it might be too late to fix.”

They said their goodbyes, but Gojo didn’t move from his spot on the deck. The weight of Shoko’s words hung heavy over him, and for the first time in a long time, he wasn’t sure what to do.

He wasn’t used to this—feeling unsure, feeling vulnerable. He wasn’t used to caring this much about someone. But when it came to you, everything felt different. Messy. Complicated. And now, standing here in the soft light of the evening, he couldn’t help but wonder: What was this? What was he doing?

And more importantly: What did he want?

Because whether he liked it or not, Shoko was right. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to make the same mistake all over again.

And this time, there wouldn’t be a second chance.

Gojo stood there, the ocean stretching endlessly before him, but his mind was elsewhere—caught in the tangled mess of emotions and half-formed thoughts that had been brewing since the moment Shoko’s words hit him. He wasn’t used to this. He wasn’t used to questioning himself, to feeling so unsure about what he wanted or what to do next. But now, he couldn’t avoid it.

What do you want, Gojo?

That question had been lingering in the back of his mind for days, ever since this whole beach trip started. He had thought, at first, that it was about giving you a break, giving all of you some time away to reset. But if he was being honest with himself—and maybe for the first time, he really was—this trip had never just been about a vacation. It had been an excuse. An excuse to be near you, to figure out what this thing between you two was. He had wanted to get closer, to understand why you still lingered in his mind, even after the surgery had erased the love you once felt for him.

But now, after Shoko’s call, after that blunt, almost painful clarity she had given him, he couldn’t pretend anymore. It wasn’t about curiosity. It wasn’t about guilt or responsibility, either.

He cared about you. Not just as a student, not just because of what had happened. It was something more. Something deeper that he hadn’t realized until now, until the idea of you falling for him again was no longer a distant possibility but something that could happen. Something that he wanted to happen.

Gojo exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair as he watched the waves roll in, his thoughts swirling like the tide. He had never been one to care about these kinds of things. Feelings, relationships, love—it had always seemed messy, complicated, something he wasn’t built for. He was Satoru Gojo, the strongest sorcerer alive, someone who lived on the edge of power and responsibility, always just a step removed from everyone else.

But with you… it felt different. He wasn’t standing on the edge anymore, wasn’t watching from afar. He was right in the middle of it, tangled up in something that he couldn’t just ignore or brush off.

Shoko had been right. If you fell in love with him again—and he knew it was possible, even probable—it would be different this time. Because now, it wasn’t just about your feelings. It was about his.

He hadn’t noticed it before. He hadn’t wanted to. But now, with the question staring him in the face, he couldn’t deny it anymore.

Gojo wanted you.

Not in the simple, surface-level way that he sometimes joked about with others. This wasn’t about charm or attraction, or the way he could so easily draw people in with his confidence and smile. This was deeper. He wanted you in his life, in a way that felt grounding, like maybe for the first time, he wasn’t floating above everything but was anchored to something real.

He wanted to be there, for you and with you—not just as your teacher or some distant figure in the background, but as someone who mattered. Someone who could be a part of your life, not just someone you admired from afar.

And if you fell in love with him again?

He wasn’t going to push you away this time. He wasn’t going to let fear or uncertainty stop him from trying. Because now, he understood that he had been waiting for something like this—for someone like you. Someone who made him feel… human, in a way he hadn’t felt in years.

Gojo smiled softly to himself, feeling the weight of his decision settle over him. It wasn’t a grand revelation or some huge, life-altering moment. It was quiet. Simple. But it was real.

He wanted you. And for the first time in his life, Gojo wasn’t afraid of what that meant.

The rest of the evening passed quietly. Yuji and Nobara had managed to drag Megumi back to the house, exhausted from the day’s activities, and the house was filled with the usual banter and noise that came from having them around. You had retreated to the kitchen, helping yourself to a glass of water, when you felt his presence behind you.

“Hey,” Gojo’s voice was light, but there was something different in his tone—something more grounded, more focused.

You turned to face him, surprised to find him standing closer than you expected, his usual easy grin absent, replaced by a more serious expression. His eyes, usually hidden behind his blindfold, were uncovered, bright and intense as they met yours.

“Hi,” you replied, suddenly feeling nervous, like there was something unspoken hanging in the air between you.

Gojo leaned against the counter, his gaze never leaving yours. “I’ve been thinking,” he said, his voice softer than usual, almost tentative. “About everything. About us.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the word us, and you swallowed hard, unsure of where this conversation was going. “What about us?”

Gojo was quiet for a moment, as if choosing his words carefully. “I know things have been complicated,” he began slowly. “And I know I haven’t exactly been great at… dealing with all of this. But I want to be honest with you.”

You stared at him, your pulse quickening. “Honest about what?”

He took a deep breath, his gaze softening as he spoke. “About what I want. About what’s been going on in my head since all of this started. And the truth is… I want you around. Not just as one of my students, but… more than that.”

You blinked, his words sinking in slowly. Your heart was racing, and you could barely breathe. “More than that?”

Gojo smiled, a small, genuine smile. “Yeah. I’ve realized that… I don’t want to push you away. I don’t want to pretend like none of this matters. It does. You matter. And I want to figure it out—whatever this is, whatever it could be—together.”

You stared at him, your mind reeling. Gojo—Satoru Gojo—was standing in front of you, telling you that he wanted you, that he wanted to figure out whatever was between you. The fear that had been gnawing at you since the surgery, the uncertainty of what would happen if you let yourself care for him again, all of it seemed to melt away in the face of his quiet sincerity.

For the first time since everything had changed, you felt something new. Something fragile, but real.

Hope.

You took a deep breath, meeting his gaze. “What if I fall for you again?” you asked, your voice trembling but steady.

Gojo stepped closer, his smile widening, his eyes soft but full of that familiar spark. “Then it’s all good.”

And for the first time in a long time, you weren’t afraid of what came next.

A few months had passed since that conversation at the beach house, and everything had settled into something new—something real. The fear, the uncertainty that had once weighed heavily between you and Gojo, had slowly faded, replaced by something more stable, more grounded. Life had moved forward, but now, it did so with a quiet ease that you hadn’t expected.

Your relationship with Gojo had evolved, and though it hadn’t been without its bumps and awkward moments, it had become something solid. It wasn’t rushed or dramatic, like you might have once imagined. There were no grand declarations of love, no sweeping romantic gestures. Instead, it was quiet and slow, built on the foundation of friendship, trust, and mutual understanding.

It felt like you had both found your footing, like you were learning how to be in each other’s lives without the fear of repeating the mistakes of the past.

It was a Saturday afternoon, and the weather was warm, the sun shining down as you and Gojo walked through the school grounds. Yuji, Nobara, and Megumi were off training somewhere, and the two of you had decided to take advantage of the quiet. Gojo had a bag of snacks slung over his shoulder, and you had your hands tucked into your pockets, enjoying the comfortable silence between you.

“What’s the plan for today, sensei?” you asked, giving him a teasing smile. It had become a running joke between you—calling him "sensei" even though the dynamic between you had changed so much over the past few months.

Gojo grinned, his usual playful energy still very much intact. “Oh, you know, the usual. Thought we could go somewhere quiet and you watch me be awesome.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at your lips. “You mean watch you eat snacks and avoid responsibility?”

“Exactly,” Gojo said with a wink, falling into step beside you. “See, you’re catching on.”

The banter between you had always been there, but now it was different. There was a lightness to it that hadn’t existed before. You weren’t constantly second-guessing yourself, wondering if Gojo was thinking about the past or the surgery or the complicated feelings that had once consumed both of you. Now, things just… were.

You weren’t in a rush to define the relationship, to label it. The love you had once felt for him had changed—it wasn’t the same overwhelming, suffocating force that had bloomed inside of you like the flowers that had nearly killed you. Instead, it had grown into something healthier, something that didn’t demand all of you but existed alongside you.

And Gojo? He had changed, too. He wasn’t the same distant, untouchable figure he had once been. He still had that easy confidence, that charm that made everyone around him smile, but there was something softer about him now—something more vulnerable. He had let you in, and though it hadn’t been easy for him, he hadn’t pulled away. He hadn’t run.

You found a quiet spot under a tree near the edge of the training grounds, and Gojo flopped down onto the grass, pulling a snack out of his bag with a dramatic flourish. You sat beside him, leaning back against the tree and closing your eyes for a moment, enjoying the warmth of the sun on your face.

“So,” Gojo said after a while, his tone more serious than usual. “How’s it going? You know… with everything.”

You opened your eyes, glancing over at him. It wasn’t like Gojo to ask questions like that—he wasn’t one for deep conversations unless they happened naturally, but when he did ask, you knew it mattered.

“It’s going,” you replied honestly, offering him a small smile. “Better than I expected.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly interested. “Better how?”

You sighed, resting your head back against the tree as you thought about your answer. “I’m not afraid anymore. Of being around you. Of falling for you again.” You turned your head to look at him, and his expression softened. “And I think… I already did.”

Gojo didn’t flinch. He didn’t tense up or act surprised. Instead, he smiled, his gaze warm as he looked at you. “I know.”

It wasn’t a grand moment, but it didn’t need to be. You had fallen for him again, slowly, gradually, and this time it felt right. It felt safe. It wasn’t the kind of love that demanded too much or threatened to swallow you whole. It was something that grew between you, steady and unforced.

And Gojo? He was right there with you.

You hadn’t talked much about what your relationship was in specific terms. You didn’t need to. What mattered was that you were both here, both willing to figure it out together. There was no rush, no urgency. Just… time. Time to grow, to understand each other, to learn how to love in a way that wasn’t destructive.

Gojo reached out, his fingers brushing against yours as he gave you that easy, lopsided grin you had come to know so well. “I’m not going anywhere, you know,” he said softly. “No matter what happens. We’ll figure it out.”

You smiled, feeling the warmth of his words settle over you. “I know.”

The two of you sat there for a while longer, the sound of the breeze rustling the leaves overhead and the distant laughter of the others in the background. It was peaceful, quiet, and for the first time in a long time, you felt like you could breathe—like you had found something worth holding onto, not because you needed it to survive, but because it made life better.

And that was enough.

As the sun began to dip lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the grass, Gojo shifted beside you, his gaze thoughtful. “You know, we never did figure out what this is,” he said, gesturing between the two of you with a lazy wave of his hand. “Maybe we should give it a name.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Does it need a name?”

He grinned, leaning back on his elbows and looking up at the sky. “Nah. I guess not.”

And in that moment, you realized that it didn’t matter what you called it. What mattered was that you were here, together, and that the love between you—whatever form it took—was real.

And that was more than enough.

notes: now everyone says "thank you shoko ieiri"! writing this was so much fun, thank you so much!

tag list: @lily-of-my-dreams @sunnyx07 @3zae-zae3 @sashisuslover @kingshitonly @bvuckleybby @laviefantasie @r0ckst4rjk @minkyungseokie @tw0fvced @f1sheeee @laviefantasie @f1sheeee @spindyl @itsjustnikkixoxo @springsoltice

#— [♡] by gigi #jjk #gojo #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo x you #fanfic #fanfiction #angst #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jjk oneshot #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen oneshot #jujutsu kaisen x reader #satoru gojo #satoru gojo oneshot #jujutsu kaisen

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doctorbitchcrxft · 4 months ago

Text

Born Under a Bad Sign | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader (Eventual ? ;) )

Warnings: mentions of religious trauma, mentions of smut, dean’s self-esteem is rly bad :(, canon violence, canon gore

Word Count: 6130

Mobile Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Playlist

You and Sam had always been close friends, but you became even more like siblings after your last hunt. He seemed to understand you on a deeper level after you described your battle with religion to him. You understood him and his praying practices, and you were happy he was able to find some peace through it. You’d always bonded before over cult classic movies and your shared love of learning, but you were grateful to get to know him more than just on the surface level.

Your relationship with Dean was changing, too. You knew it scared him a bit; it scared you, too. But you were grateful that you had him in your life. You’d never cared for someone before the way you cared about him. However, the two of you left that part unspoken and let your bodies speak for themselves.

Dean visited your motel room more and more frequently after Sam fell asleep at night. You knew Sam had some clue as to what was going on between you and his brother, but he hadn’t prodded into your relationship much. For that, you were thankful.

Most of the time, Dean wasn’t even coming to your room for sex. He genuinely just wanted to be close to you or talk to you. The simple intimacy of sitting on the floor and playing a few rounds of Rummy or lying in bed and holding each other close while you talked about the most mundane things was almost better than sex for you. Your life was revolving less around hunting and more around Dean, and you weren’t quite sure how to feel about that.

That was, at least, until Sam went missing.

When Dean noticed Sam was gone, he was leaving your room after staying the night with you. He burst back into the room, saying, “(Y/N), get dressed, Sam’s gone.”

“What?” You jumped up, pulling jeans on. “Whaddaya mean ‘gone’?”

“I mean he’s gone, (Y/N). He’s gone,” he responded gruffly, raking a hand through his hair.

“Wait, are you sure he didn’t just go out for coffee or something?” you questioned, trying to calm him down.

“No, dude, it’s ten A.M.,” he replied.

“Okay, well let’s call him,” you said. You pressed your phone to your ear only to find it went straight to voicemail.

“Dammit!” Dean could tell by the look on your face what happened.

*** “Dean, you really need to sleep,” you urged. His eyes had bags hanging under them and his hair was a mess from the number of times he’d run his hand over it. You couldn’t get him to sleep for more than a few hours the previous night when his body finally gave out.

You’d spent three days thus far looking for Sam and driving all over the country looking for him. You tried tracking his phone, but you had no luck. In fact, the reason why was because he’d left his phone in the Impala. Bobby and Ellen hadn’t seen or heard from him, either.

“(Y/N), I’m fine, dammit,” Dean responded harshly.

“I’m not gonna put up with you being a dick just because you’re stressed,” you shot back. “I’m worried about Sam, too. But you’re no good to him so sleep-deprived that you can’t tell your right from your left. I’m gonna start drugging you if you don’t go to bed voluntarily.”

He blinked at you, seeming curious about the last part of your statement.

“I’m kidding,” you said, pausing momentarily. “Maybe.”

He thought about your words for a minute. “Fine,” he murmured.

“Sorry? What was that?” you asked, half-mockingly.

“You heard me,” he grumbled back.

You conceded, giggling a little.

“Don’t let me sleep any more than five hours,” he told you as you pushed him toward the bed in your motel room.

“I’m not.” You were lying, though, and you had no doubt Dean picked up on that.

“(Y/N)—” he warned.

“Okay, okay. Fine. Just go to bed, asshole,” you told him, finally shoving him back on the bed.

About twenty minutes later, you’d readied for bed and headed over to Dean’s sleeping form. You sat on the bed across from him, and you brushed your hand over his hair. He breathed out contentedly, subconsciously relaxing under your touch. You smiled softly to yourself and crawled into bed next to him. You did your best not to disturb him while you got comfortable.

Fully settled, you took in his sculpted features. There were very few times you had seen Dean at peace even in his sleep, and this was not one of those times. You knew his sleep was necessary, but it was clear by the tension in his face that it was not going to be the most rested sleep in the world for him.

Even in the midst of this awful situation, there was a nagging want in your heart for Dean. You knew neither of you were in a position for a real relationship, but you would be lying if you said you didn’t want one. In fact, you knew you were beginning to fall hopelessly in love with him.

‘Fuck. I do love him,’ you thought. ‘Damnit, I am so fucked.’

“Hey, stop,” Dean muttered. “Stop!” he said, voice stronger this time.

“Dean?” you asked quietly, sitting up on your elbow.

“Fuck, stop it!” Dean cried. “Leave him alone!”

‘Oh, god, he’s gotta be dreaming about Sam,’ you thought. You began shaking him to try and wake him up.

“No, no!” he screamed, writhing under you.

“Dean!” You shook him harder.

He lurched up, grabbing your wrist and flipping you on your back. He pinned your wrist above your head.

You and Dean breathed heavily in each other’s faces, yours and Dean’s adrenaline pumping. When he realized what he was doing, he immediately let go of you.

“Oh, god, I’m sorry—” Dean began.

“Dean, it’s okay,” you told him.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked, gently grabbing your hands to begin to inspect your wrists for injuries.

You let him hold your hands, assuring him, “No, no! I’m okay, really. See?”

He was silent while he caught his breath, unable to look at you. You put your hand on his cheek and guided his face up gently to make him look at you. “Dean. I’m fine. I’m not upset.”

You could see tears forming in his eyes which was likely the reason he looked away. He pulled away from you and once looked down once more. You grabbed his hand and squeezed tightly to reassure him. “I know you’re upset, but you gotta go back to bed, okay? We’re no good to Sam when we’re tired zombies,” you attempted to joke.

He said nothing, but he did lay back down with you. He turned in your hold to let you wrap your arms around his stomach and run your hands up his bare chest. You pressed kisses to the back of his shoulders, and his breathing evened out.

“I don’t deserve you,” he murmured so quietly you almost didn’t hear it.

It caught your attention, and you pulled his shoulder to get him to turn to you. He allowed you to roll him onto his back, and you propped yourself up on your elbow to look down at him. “Don’t ever let me hear you say that again,” you chastised as gently as you possibly could. You knew aggravation was seeping through your tone, though not at him. “I know you won’t believe me if I tell you, but you do.”

“(Y/N)—”

“No. Don’t. You are—” you cut yourself off, consistently shocked by how lowly Dean thought of himself. “I mean, I care about you. A lot. You know that.”

He nodded.

“Then why can’t you believe you’re deserving of me? I’m here, aren’t I?” you asked rhetorically. “That’s not a mistake. If anything, I feel undeserving of you.”

“What?” Dean scoffed. “Why?”

“See? See how ridiculous that sounds?”

Dean eyed you for a moment. “I see what you did there.”

You smiled, but soon returned to seriousness. “Seriously. I care about you. A lot. For… a number of reasons. I can’t believe you think you don’t deserve me. I mean, you’re Dean fucking Winchester. You— you’re so strong. You’re really just… impressive as a human being. You’re smart, and funny, and— Jesus Christ— so fucking handsome. And— hmm!”

Dean cut you off by pulling you down to him and kissing you roughly. This kiss was different than others you’d shared before. It was passionate and kind all at once, and it was clear how hungry you were for each other. When you broke the kiss, the two of you pecked each other one final time before simply resting your foreheads together.

“I was talking,” you said, breathless.

He chuckled; one that rumbled deep in his chest. “Needed to kiss you, though.”

“Oh, shut up, you just didn’t wanna listen to me talk about you anymore,” you replied playfully.

“Oh, no, I was definitely enjoying that,” he snarked.

“Sure, Jan,” you laughed. You leaned down to kiss him once more before settling back down against him.

A few minutes passed before Dean found the courage to speak again. “Hey, can you, um—”

“Spit it out, Dean, I’m tired,” you said sleepily, eyes still closed.

“Just— Nevermind.”

“No, what?” you asked, head perking up. “C’mon, what?”

“Can you… spoon me again?”

You smiled, nodding excitedly. “That’s so cute.”

“Aw, shut up,” he muttered, rolling away from you.

“I’m serious!” you said, peppering kisses along his shoulders. “I like that you let me hold you. Most guys wouldn’t.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he murmured, stroking your arm that was wrapped around his chest with his thumb.

You giggled, kissing his shoulder again. “Goodnight, Dean.”

“G’night, sweetheart.”

***

You spent the next several days searching for Sam. A week had passed with no word from him.

You leaned against the car next to a fidgeting Dean, hands in your pockets and staring at the ground.

“Ellen, it's me again. Any chance you've heard from him?” Dean asked into his phone. “I swear, it's like looking for my dad all over again. I'm losing my mind here… No, I've called him a thousand times, there's nothing but voicemail. I don't know where he went, or why. Sam's just gone.” His phone beeped. “Hang on,” he told Ellen.

You could see “Sam’s cell” appearing on the screen of Dean’s phone. Your posture straightened as Dean answered the phone. “Sammy? Where the hell are you? Are you okay?... Hey, hey, hey! Calm down. Where are you? Alright, don't move, I'm on my way.”

***

You burst through the door of the room Sam told Dean he was in to find Sam sitting completely motionless, staring blankly ahead.

“Sam? Hey,” Dean said, moving over to him.

“Hey, guys,” he said numbly.

You kneeled down in front of him, and Dean took the opposite side. “Are you bleeding?” you asked him, noting the blood covering his abdomen and knuckles.

Sam couldn’t look at you. “I tried to wash it off.”

Dean mumbled, “Oh, my god,” upon noticing his younger brother’s shirt.

“I don't think it's my blood,” Sam murmured.

“Whose is it?” Dean questioned.

“I don’t know.”

“Sam, what happened?” you questioned gently.

He looked up at you. “I— I don’t remember anything.”

***

You found out Sam had checked into that motel a few days ago, had been smoking, stealing liquor from gas stations, and discovered a bloody knife in the back of a car he’d stolen. Your mind reeled at why Sam could’ve possibly done this. He was not this kind of person, and yet, you were beginning to get a little afraid of him. Is this what the yellow-eyed demon was going to turn him into?

Sam seemed more shaken than you or Dean did, and your heart ached for the poor guy. You couldn’t imagine not understanding what was happening to your own mind and body. He said he couldn’t remember anything beyond a diner you stopped at in West Texas; over a week ago and right before he went missing.

Night fell as Dean drove down the highway the gas station attendant had pointed you toward, saying Sam drove off this way.

“What's going on with you, Sam? Hm? 'Cause smoking, throwing bottles at people, I mean, that sounds more like me than you,” Dean quipped.

You weren’t sure what was more shocking; Sam smoking menthols like a chimney and chucking a bottle of liquor at a gas station attendant, or the fact that he couldn’t remember the last week.

Suddenly, the younger brother perked up. “Dean, wait, right here. Turn down that road.”

“What?”

“I don't know how I know, I just do.”

Dean complied and turned down a back road onto a private property. Surrounding the house were emergency flood lights and security cameras capturing every possible angle of the home.

“Whoever lives here, I'd say they don't like surprises,” Sam noted as the three of you approached the house. You were surprised the flood lights hadn’t come on yet.

“Should we knock?” Dean questioned.

“Yeah, I guess,” Sam said.

You poked your head around the corner of the house while the boys talked. You quirked your head in confusion at the sight of broken glass covering the porch beneath a shattered window. “Hey guys?”

They came over to you, and you waved your flashlight around the window.

“I'm surprised the cops didn't show. Place like this you'd think it'd have an alarm,” Dean commented.

Sam found a disabled alarm on the wall. “Yeah, you would.”

“What the fuck, man,” you muttered. You were the first to crawl into the house through the shattered window. Glass crunched beneath your boots when they hit the floor, and you waved your flashlight around the room to find turned over chairs, knocked over lamps, and broken picture frames. You shot a concerned look back at the boys before you followed the trail of displaced items to a back office. You nearly tripped over a body lying on the floor in the dark. You yelped in surprise, and Dean caught your arm before you could fall.

“Hit the lights,” he told his brother. You could hear the apprehension in his voice.

When the lights came on, you knelt next to the body. The middle-aged man was slumped on the floor on his side, and you turned him over to reveal his deeply cut throat. You put a hand over your mouth, and shot a worried glance at Dean. Dean’s eyes were on the body, widened in horror.

“I did this,” Sam breathed out.

“We don’t know that,” Dean immediately responded.

“What else do you need?” Sam scoffed. “I mean, how else do you explain the car, the knife, the blood—”

You got up from the floor. “Sam, I don’t know, man, but this just doesn’t seem—” You ran a hand through your hair and turned away from him.

“Look, even if you did do this I'm sure you had a reason, you know; self-defense, uh, he was, he was a bad son of a bitch, something!” Dean was still crouched on the floor, and he patted the body down. “He doesn't have any ID.”

“I need your lockpick,” Sam said.

You and Dean eyed him strangely. “What?”

“I need your lockpick,” he repeated. He took it and opened a double door closet inside the room. It revealed another room lined wall to wall in newspaper clippings, maps, and weapons.

“Holy shit,” you murmured.

“Either this guy's a Unabomber—” Dean began.

Sam cut him off. “Or a hunter. I think I killed a hunter.”

You looked up at a security camera in the corner of the room. “Let’s find out.” Dean had taken the SD card out of the security camera and handed it over to you. You cracked the password on the man’s computer and opened the file attached to the SD card. You went back in the footage to the day before Sam checked into the motel room, and your hand flew to your mouth.

Sam was dragging the struggling man behind the desk and propped him up against himself before slitting his throat.

Dean inhaled sharply. “How do you erase this? Huh?” he questioned you.

“Already on it,” you said.

“I killed him, Dean. I just broke in and killed him,” Sam murmured.

“Listen to me. Whoever this guy is, he's a hunter. Which means that other hunters are going to come looking for his killer, which means we've got to cover our tracks, okay?” Dean said frantically.

Sam picked something up off the desk next to you while you continued working on the computer. “His name was Steve Wandell. This is a letter from his daughter.”

Suddenly, Dean grabbed the computer off the desk in front of you, slamming it to the ground beside you, making you jump. He stomped it to bits for good measure, breathing raggedly.

“Start wipin’ down your prints,” he said, handing you and Sam rags. “C’mon, let’s go.”

You and Sam were still too in shock to process what was going on. It dawned on you then that you may actually have to kill Sam. You couldn’t live with yourself if it came to that.

***

You and the brothers returned to Sam’s motel room to regroup, get some sleep, and take off before anyone could discover what Sam had done. Your mind was reeling with the possibility of having to put Dean’s brother down. You would never forgive yourself, and you knew Dean wouldn’t either.

“Alright, we get a couple hours sleep and then we put this place in our rearview mirror,” Dean asserted.

Sam remained motionless near the door.

“Look, I know this is bad, okay? You gotta snap out of it. Sam, say something!” Dean pleaded.

The younger brother’s shoulders were slumped, and his sad eyes turned up to Dean. “Just get some sleep and leave in the morning? Murder, Dean. That's what I did.”

Dean seemed to search for words for a moment. “Maybe.”

Sam scoffed.

“Okay? Hey, we don't know... shapeshifter!”

“Oh, come on. You know it wasn't, you saw the tape. There was no eye flare, no distortion—”

Dean turned away from Sam. “Yeah, but it wasn't you! Alright? I mean, yeah, it might have been you, but it wasn't you.”

Sam sat down on the bed. “Well, I think it was. I think maybe more than you know.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Dean grunted.

“For the last few weeks I've been having... I've been having these feelings.”

“What feelings?” you questioned, crouching to the ground in front of him while Dean continued to fume.

“Rage. Hate. And I can't stop it.” Sam couldn’t lift his gaze to you. “It just gets worse. Day by day, it gets worse.”

“Why didn’t you say anything before?” you asked as gently as you could.

“I didn't want to scare you.”

“Well, bang-up job on that,” Dean quipped.

“Dean, the yellow-eyed demon, you know he has plans for me. And we both know that he's turned other children into killers before, too.”

The older brother turned around, eyes blazing. “No one can control you but you.

“It sure doesn't seem like that, Dean, it feels like no matter what I do, slowly but surely I'm, I'm just becoming—” he trailed off, swallowing down his emotion.

“What?”

“Who I'm meant to be. I mean, you said it once yourself. I gotta face up to who I am,” Sam continued.

Dean threw his arms up. “I didn’t mean this!”

The brunet’s eyes got teary. “But it's still true. You know that. Dad knew that too. That's why he told you, if it ever came to this…”

“Sam, stop it,” you begged.

“You promised me, (Y/N),” Sam said sadly. “You promised.”

Dean crossed the room to you in a flash. “No. Listen to me. We're gonna figure this out. Okay? I mean, there's gotta be a way, right?”

“Yeah, there is.” Sam took a handgun from the duffel bag resting on the bed beside him and shoved it into your hand. “I don't wanna hurt anyone else. I don't wanna hurt you two.”

You jumped back from Sam, and for the first time ever, holding a gun felt uncomfortable and foreign to you.

“You won't,” Dean argued. “Whatever this is, you can fight it.”

“No. I can't. Not forever. (Y/N), you gotta do it.” Tears pooled in Sam’s eyes. He stared at you, pleading evident within his gaze.

You looked down at the gun and back at Sam.

“(Y/N), I swear, if you do this—”

“I know, Dean!” You looked up at Sam shakily. “I don’t wanna do this.”

Sam nodded. “I know.”

You looked between a torn Dean and resigned Sam. You shook your head and dropped the gun. “I can’t.”

Dean sighed in relief, and Sam stood. You shouldered past him toward the door of the room to get some air.

“That’s too bad,” you heard Sam say behind you, his voice suddenly sending a chill down your spine. The next thing you heard was Dean grunting, and you wheeled around to see him drop to the floor. Sam loomed over you next, and you tried your best to fight him off. However, you knew it was pointless. The pistol he’d given you whipped across your face powerfully, and the world went black.

***

The next time you came to, an incessant knocking was filling your ears. You heard Dean groaning a few feet away from you, and you suddenly remembered what happened.

The motel manager opened the door. “Hey. It's past your checkout.”

“What?” Dean questioned groggily.

“It's past checkout, and I've got a couple here needs your room.” The manager gestured to an embarrassed businessman with a hooker standing behind him.

Dean grumbled, “Yeah, I'll bet they do. What time is it?”

“Twelve-thirty.”

“That guy who was with us, have you seen him?”

“Yeah, he left before dawn in your car, and you should have gone with him, because now I'm gonna have to charge you extra.”

“Oh, son of a…” Dean muttered.

“It's just policy, sir.”

“We need to use your computer,” you spoke up.

The manager folded his arms. “Now, why would I let you use my computer?” *** The manager counted the stack of cash you and Dean scrounged up to pay him off for letting you two use his computer.

Your mind raced as Dean tracked his brother down on the phone with their cellular provider. What was wrong with Sam? Was this really who he was now? Who could he have possibly been going to see and why? Could he have killed another hunter? Could you have stopped it if you just pulled the trigger? Did you do the right thing?

Dean’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts. “(Y/N), we gotta go. Duluth, Minnesota.”

***

You and Dean drove hours in silence. Dean surprisingly hadn’t put on one of his many cassette tapes to fill the silence. Your heart in your throat and breathing labored, you were finally brave enough to offer your hand to him. You couldn’t look at him, afraid he’d maybe be angry with you or wouldn’t need your comfort, but you kept your hand on the seat between you all the same. Finally, he joined his with yours and squeezed tightly. Neither of you said a word or looked at each other, but you kept each other grounded in your completely unfathomable situation.

When you arrived at the bar you’d tracked Sam to in Duluth, you and Dean grabbed flasks of holy water from the trunk and your handguns from Dean’s glovebox; although you knew you couldn’t use the latter on Sam.

You could hear Sam talking, but you couldn’t quite tell what he was saying or who he was talking to through the door of the bar. On Dean’s count of three, the two of you burst through the door with your guns ready.

“Sam!” Dean yelled.

You noticed the person he’d been talking to was a tied-up and gagged Jo, and Sam took a knife from above her on the post she was tied to and held it to her throat. His calm expression shifted to one of desperate panic, and you suddenly realized what was happening.

“I begged you to stop me, Dean,” Sam cried.

“Put the knife down, dammit,” Dean ordered.

“I told you I can't fight it! My head feels like it's on fire, all right?! Dean. Kill me, or I'm going to kill her. Please. You'd be doing me a favor! Shoot me,” Sam ordered. He turned to you and Dean, arms spread. “Shoot me, (Y/N)! Please!”

You glanced at Jo out of the corner of your eye. “Sam, come on, dude!”

Dean turned away, lowering his gun.

“What’s wrong with you?” Sam spat. “Are you seriously gonna let Jo die?” Sam went to approach his brother, but Dean turned suddenly and flicked holy water at his brother from his flask. The water hissed and steamed when it made contact with Sam’s skin.

“You son of a bitch!” you screamed, rushing at Sam. Sam’s eyes turned black and he threw you off him and into a table behind you. You cried out as your back made contact with the table and chairs, and you collapsed to the floor in a heap. You raised your head to see Sam bursting through a window and Dean cutting Jo free. You got back to your feet painfully and grabbed your gun, sprinting after Sam.

“(Y/N)!” you heard Dean call as you leapt out of the window. He soon caught up to you as you ran down the dock toward a warehouse. You knew that was where Sam— well, the demon— had gone given the swinging of its doors. You and Dean flanked either side of the door before bursting through the warehouse, pressed back to back and scanning the room. You then crouched next to him when you heard wood creak a few yards away.

“So who are you?” Dean called.

“I got lots of names,” Sam replied. His voice was quite far off.

“You've been in Sam since he disappeared, haven't you?” you spat.

“You shoulda seen your face when you thought he murdered that guy. Pathetic,” the demon called back.

“Why didn't you kill us? You had a dozen chances,” Dean replied. He motioned for you to follow him behind a tall stack of boxes to find better cover.

“Nah, that would have been too easy. Where's the fun in that? You see, this was a test. Wanted to see if I could push you or your girlfriend far enough to waste Sam. Should've known you two wouldn't have the sack. Anyway. Fun's over now,” Sam bitterly informed you.

“Well, I hope you got your kicks. 'Cause you're gonna pay hell for this, I'm gonna make sure of that,” Dean growled.

“How? You can't hurt me. Not without hurting your little brother.”

Dean put his gun away, opting for the holy water flask in his jacket. You kept your gun drawn.

“See, I think you're gonna die, Dean. You and every other hunter I can find. One look at Sam's dewey, sensitive eyes? They'll let me right in their door,” the demon laughed. You heard the back door of the warehouse open, and you and Dean quickly followed. When you reached the dock, you barely had time to register Sam standing several feet away with a gun drawn before two shots fired off; one hitting Dean and the other grazing your arm. You tumbled to the dock below from the impact, and you were knocked out cold yet again from the eight-foot drop.

***

You could just barely make out the conversation happening around you as you began to come-to from the second time you’d been knocked out by Sam. You were lying on something hard with something soft under your head, but you couldn’t quite open your eyes to figure out what was going on.

“Don't be a baby!” you heard Jo say.

“God!” Dean groaned.

You wanted to move to help him, but you still couldn’t open your eyes or move.

“Almost. Alright, got it. Got it,” Jo announced.

You heard glass clinking before Dean grunted, “God, you’re a butcher. Should’ve let (Y/N) patch me up when she comes-back-to.”

Jo scoffed. “You're welcome.”

“Alright, are we done?”

“Would you give me two minutes to patch you up? You can't help Sam if you're bleeding to death.”

“You should be payin’ more attention to (Y/N). She’s the one out cold with a bleeding head.”

‘Oh. My head’s bleeding?’ you thought. Suddenly, you could feel the blood trickling down your face. You slowly began to recognize the dim light coming from the room around you, and realized you were probably back in the bar you’d found Jo and Sam in.

“So, how did you know? That he was possessed?” Jo asked Dean.

“Uh, ah, I didn't, I just knew that it couldn't have been him.”

Jo paused for a moment, seeming hesitant to speak again. “Hey, Dean.”

“Yeah?”

“I know demons lie, but... do they ever tell the truth, too?”

“Uh, um, yeah, sometimes, I guess. Especially if they know it'll mess with your head.” He paused as you began to writhe around on the floor. “Why do you ask?”

“Nothing. Doesn't matter. So do you have any idea where he's headed to next?”

You groaned, catching Dean’s attention. “Sweetheart?”

Your heart fluttered at the name despite the throbbing in your head, arm, and back. You moaned again, shifting uncomfortably.

When you opened your eyes, Dean was above you. “You there? You okay?"

“Dee,” you smiled groggily.

“Yeah, sweetheart, I’m here.” He slipped a hand under your shoulders and the other under your knees. “C’mon, we gotta go find Sammy.”

“Okay,” you said, still not fully aware of what was going on.

“Wait, Dean, let me—” Jo tried.

“No, I got her,” he responded. He began to carry you toward the door.

“Where we goin’, then?” Jo asked.

“You're not coming,” he replied simply.

Jo’s voice rose. “The hell I'm not. I'm a part of this now.”

“I can't say it more plain than this. You try to follow us, and I'll tie you right back to that post and leave you here. This is our fight,” he said firmly. “I'm not getting your blood on my hands. That's just how it's gonna be.”

A few moments of silence passed, and Dean began walking again. “I’ll call you later, okay?”

In your heart, you knew he wouldn’t. You’d call Jo and thank her for helping you and Dean.

You finally had full cognitive function back when Dean got you to the car. He gingerly reached out to your still bleeding head wound. He sucked in air through his teeth. “I’m gonna patch you up, okay?”

You nodded.

He immediately set to work. “Hey, uh—” he paused, seeming to search for what he needed to say, “—what was that… concussion-check-thing you did on me? Back when we dealt with that freaky ass scarecrow?”

You grinned at the memory. “I don’t think you need to check, Dean, I definitely have a concussion,” you said.

“I still wanna see how bad it is,” he told you.

“It’s not awful,” you said. “But I’ll be down for the count for a bit.”

You were suddenly wide awake when you felt hydrogen peroxide hitting your arm where Sam’s bullet grazed you.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured.

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Yeah, I’m not,” you admitted.

Dean finished patching up the wound on your head, a comfortable silence settling between you. “Thanks for not shooting my brother,” he mumbled.

You snorted. “Yeah, of course.”

He paused again. “Why didn’t you?”

You considered before responding truthfully. “Couldn’t live with myself if I did. Couldn’t live with myself if you hated me.”

He searched your eyes before slowly leaning in to kiss you. You leaned in, too, stretching your neck up to meet his lips. His kiss was gentle and conveyed everything the two of you couldn’t say verbally.

“Alright, c’mon, we gotta go get Sam,” Dean said. “He’s goin’ to Bobby’s.” ***

“Stay here,” Dean told you. He left the windows rolled down on the Impala to keep some air moving through it while he went into Bobby’s house to confront Sam.

You went to protest, but your aching limbs proved to you that you would be completely useless.

Dean chuckled at you as you wordlessly settled back into your chair. “Atta girl.”

Minutes felt like hours as you waited for Dean to emerge from the house. You knew Bobby was smart enough to figure out Sam was possessed and had likely ensnared him in a Devil’s Trap. Still, that didn’t stop you from worrying about your boys.

A cool breeze carried Dean’s scream of agony through the car, and you immediately jumped to your feet despite the protesting in your back and head. Your vision nearly whited out when you stood up, and the light of day was too bright for you. Still, you were fueled by the thought of Dean being hurt and stumbled your way into Bobby’s house. When you finally made it inside, Dean and Sam were lying on the floor, each writhing in pain, and Bobby was holding a hot poker.

“I thought I told you to stay in the car, (Y/N),” Dean groaned.

“I thought—” you cut yourself off. “Nevermind.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, kid, but you look like hell,” Bobby told you.

You laughed. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

Bobby then made you lie down on his couch and you threw your arm over your eyes to block out the light. You heard Sam and Dean patching each other up, and Bobby asked a question that caught your attention. “You kids ever hear of a hunter named Steve Wandell?”

“Why do you ask?” Dean replied.

“Just heard from a friend. Wandell's dead. Murdered in his own house. You wouldn't know anything about that.” You could tell what Bobby was meaning from his tone.

“No, sir, never heard of the guy,” Dean said before Sam could.

“Good,” Bobby stated firmly. “Keep it that way. Wandell's buddies are looking for someone or something to string up, and they're not going to slow down to listen to reason. You understand what I'm saying?”

“We better hit the road,” Dean said. “We should get (Y/N) one of those fancy sleep mask things for her to sleep in the car.”

“How ‘bout just a pair of sunglasses, Dean,” you deadpanned. You could hear Sam chuckling as footsteps approached; you could tell they belonged to the older brother.

“Here. Take these.” You weren’t sure what Bobby was referring to given you refused to take your hand off your face for even a second.

“What are they?” Sam questioned.

“Charms. They'll fend off possession. That demon's still out there. This'll stop it from getting back up in ya.”

“That sounds vaguely dirty, but uh, thanks.” Dean’s chest rumbled against you as he spoke, and you relaxed into his hold.

“You're welcome. You kids be careful now. And (Y/N), take care of yourself.”

You made a thumbs-up gesture in Bobby’s general direction without uncovering your eyes, earning a chuckle from all three men.

***

You slept most of the drive in the backseat. You were in and out of consciousness and couldn’t quite string together the conversations Sam and Dean were having. However, you paid close attention to their latest interaction.

“I was awake for some of it, Dean,” said Sam. “I watched myself kill Wandell with my own two hands; I saw the light go out in his eyes.”

“That must have been awful,” the older brother replied.

“That's not my point. I almost carved up Jo too. But no matter what I did, you wouldn't shoot. Neither would she,” Sam noted.

“It was the right move, Sam. It wasn't you,” Dean argued.

“Yeah, this time. What about next time?”

“Sam, when Dad told me... that I might have to kill you, it was only if I couldn't save you. Now, if it's the last thing I do, I'm gonna save you.”

You loved how much Dean cared about his little brother.

Dean laughed softly after a moment.

“What?” Sam asked.

“Dude, you— you like, full-on had a girl inside you for like a whole week.” He laughed again, as did Sam. “That's pretty naughty.”

You smiled to yourself as sleep claimed you once more.

***

Somewhere between state lines, you and the Winchesters were stopped to rest at a motel. Thoughts swam in your head as you thumbed the amulet Bobby had given the three of you for protection from future possessions. Suddenly, you slapped lightly against your forehead.

"Guys!" you exclaimed.

Both brothers startled.

"Tattoos!" You stood excitedly.

"Sweetheart, what are you—"

You began to pace around. "I've been tryin' to think of a way to make these amulets more permanent. How 'bout tattoos?"

Sam hesitated, but nodded eventually. "You're a genius. Why didn't I think of that?"

" 'Cause I'm smarter than you." You playfully stuck your tongue out at them.

And so, the three of you set off to find a tattoo parlor. Each of you got the amulet's symbol tattooed on you; the boys on their chests, and you on your hip. Dean was very clearly excited about the placement of the piece.

"Control yourself, please," you scolded while the artist worked.

"Tryin'," Dean replied.

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean winchester #supernatural #spn #supernatural series rewrite #spn series rewrite

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paradiseprincesss · 5 months ago

Text

grave | jonathan crane

i wanted to write something a little more on the "romantic" smut side lol. anyway, i will start to post the song drabbles/requests tmr if i have time. ok that's all!

summary: you decide to show jonathan how much you love every part of him, including the parts of himself that he hates.

warnings: smut, p in v, oral (m!receiving), mentions of childhood trauma, mentions of depression (sort of?) MDNI 18+ ONLY

word count: 2.1k

masterlist

jonathan vowed that he’d never believe in a higher power so long as he lived — he could thank his childhood woven with religious trauma for that.

but theoretically, if he was to believe in a celestial being, his first answer would be you.

in his eyes, you were a goddess walking amongst the rest of the people on this earth. every detail about you had jonathan ready to sacrifice his sanity — he couldn’t wrap his head around how you of all people could possibly love him.

you were like the glue that held his tattered heart together as a whole.

when you found out about scarecrow, he was certain you would run for the hills. abandon him and vanish without a trace — leave him with a broken heart, watch him drown as his feelings swallowed him whole, but you stayed.

he’d suffer in silence, paranoia eating him alive as he tried to keep the ugly part of him far, far away from you but it seemed you didn’t find the alterego of scarecrow ugly at all. in fact, you found it rather wonderful how passionate he was about fear.

fear is a fascinating thing, isn’t it?

even the ones who have an utmost control over their phobias have a fear of something deep down, and jonathan’s was losing you. he was well known to those around him as calculated, cold, and even cynical, but to you, he was an absolute angel.

“tough day at work?” you asked softly, looking up from your phone as you heard him sigh, swinging the front door open. “i made dinner for you, honey.”

as jonathan tossed his suit jacket onto the couch, he stopped and looked at you — ethereal, that’s what you were. after a hard day of work, he was blessed to come home to you. someone who cared about him so deeply despite his flaws and rigid edges.

someone who loved him despite how much he hated himself — not everyone is that lucky, he thought.

“yes — thank you, my darling.” he said softly, placing a fleeting kiss on your head as he made his way to the kitchen.

later on in the evening, after dinner, you joined jonathan in bed after a long shower. he admired you as he looked up from his book, taking in the heavenly body getting snug into bed beside him.

he sighed as he watched you run your manicured hand through your freshly dried hair, the strap of your silk nightie slipping off your shoulder slightly. you looked over at him, smiling sweetly as you crawled into his lap and put his book down on the bedside table.

every time jonathan felt like he was hard to love, he reminded himself that if he was really as bad as they made him out to be — he wouldn’t have you.

my, you made his life — he’d be just fine if his blood stopped flowing. at least he had the privilege of loving you and that was enough for him to die happy.

“you’ve been working a lot.” you said softly, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. the small action made jonathan’s heart flutter — since when did he become so soft? “i’m proud of you and everything you do.”

it almost felt like jonathan’s heart had been shocked with a defibrillator in that very moment — like he was alive again. every word you said, he hung onto. you were the one person who believed in him; who loved him for who he was.

“you make me so happy.” jonathan confessed, trailing his hands on your skin as he looked at your hand — and the ring on your finger. a symbol of a forever commitment, a love that was everlasting. “my darling wife.”

“you look tired,” you noticed as you placed a kiss on his cheek, “have you been sleeping enough lately?”

“no, i haven’t.” jonathan said with a deep exhale, his blue eyes piercing right through your soul. “work is exhausting me, and the shipments from falcone…”

“i know,” you whispered, brushing your thumb across his cheek lovingly, “i love you.”

and though all things work and scarecrow related were slowly draining the light from jonathan, as long as he had your arms around him, he knew he’d come out unscathed. he'd never been this happy — never felt so alive.

his earliest childhood memories were filled with trauma, but it was almost like you made him forget what suffering felt like. jonathan would go through a lifetime of pain if it meant he could keep you here, in his arms, forever.

“i’m always going to be here, forever by your side, jonathan.” you reminded him softly, watching as his icy eyes started to water slightly.

because without you, there was no jonathan. just “doctor crane” and “scarecrow” but no jonathan. if he didn’t have you, then just bury him — death would be easier.

even though his dreams were violent, plaguing him nightly, and work made him feel like his mind was about to split — he clung onto his sanity because of you. every disgusting part of himself that he absolutely loathed, you adored. you saw to the depths of his soul.

perhaps if it wasn’t for you, he’d be in the grave by now. six feet under without someone to walk through the pains of growing with him.

“i love you, too.” jonathan said softly, his voice dripping in adornment and vulnerability. “i’d be so lost without you.”

his hands reached up to the strap of your slip, already hanging off your shoulder, as he pushed it off completely. he did the same to the other side, delicately unwrapping you like a priceless gift.

you put up no fight, letting him do as he pleased. it was like being in the presence of an angel everytime jonathan was near you, let alone touching you. you were his deep end, the part of him that kept him breathing.

“wait,” you whispered, causing jonathan to pause as a look of confusion flashed over his features, “i want to try something different.”

jonathan nodded, letting you take the reins. something was certainly in the air tonight. you crawled off his lap, and instead, got comfortable between his legs. you reached your delicate hand up to the waistband of his pyjama pants, looking up at him for silent approval.

usually, jonathan was in charge when it came to the bedroom, but it felt right to let you lead. most of the time, the sex was leaning towards the rough side, but like i said, the atmosphere was a polar opposite of what it usually was tonight.

“i need you,” jonathan urged, “just touch me, please—”

you tugged down his pyjama pants gently, and his hard cock sprung out. he was painfully hard from the moment you’d straddled his lap earlier — it was like everything you did had an effect on him, no matter how simple the action was.

gently, you wrap your hand around his cock, stroking him gently before you place your lips on the tip. jonathan let out a choked moan as you took him into your warm, wet mouth, bobbing your head up and down his length as you stroked him.

you swirled your tongue around the tip of his cock, effortlessly causing him to become weak as he let out a mixture of moans and quiet, held back whimpers.

“darling,” he breathed out, “feels so good, fuck—”

you hummed around his length, playing with his balls gently as you continued to suck his cock. gently, you pushed your head down as far as you could, gagging around him as the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat. jonathan let out the loudest moan yet, bucking his hips up gently.

“yes,” he groaned, “you’re so good at this, doll.”

the praise kept you going, your eyes watering as you continued to take his cock down your throat like the good girl you were. as your lips stayed wrapped around him, his hands reached for your hair, tangled in it as he pulled it gently.

as soon as you felt him tense up, you took his length out of your mouth with a pop. as much as you loved having him cum down your throat, you wanted to feel him fill your insides with it instead. once you looked back over at jonathan, his eyes were wide and he looked like he was in pure awe at you.

he was — how could you look so angelic doing the naughtiest of things?

slowly, you took the nightie off of you, slipping it over your head as his pale blue eyes darted all over your body. every inch of you was designed for jonathan, handmade for him and his love. you kept your eyes focused on him, making sure he was watching you watching him.

once you were clothesless, you crawled over onto his lap again, straddling him as you lined the tip of his leaking cock with your drooling cunt. the room was quiet, the only sounds to be heard was the rain hitting the windows outside. but alas, it was the most romantic, peaceful atmosphere you’d been in.

slowly, you sunk down onto his thick cock, throwing your head back as you felt fuller and fuller by the second. jonathan let out a breathy moan, and you whimpered as he stretched you out fully. once your ass was flush against his hips, you started to move.

“so good, jonathan.” you mewled out, the feeling of his cock ramming into your tight, wet hole making you dizzy. “y-your cock feels s-so fucking good!”

“so tight, baby, my god—” jonathan praised, his hands gripping onto your hips as he watched your tits bounce with every movement you made. “so good to me, darling. just look at you.”

you continued to bounce on his thick cock, his tip pounding into your cervix with each up and down movement you made. you could feel your slick leaking all over his cock, coating the base with your arousal.

“a-ah— yes, yes!” you chant, your mind going blank as you start to tip over the edge. you leaned down to pepper his neck with kisses, and jonathan’s grip on you tightened as he started to buck his hips into you.

the feeling of his fat cock drilling into your tight cunt had you at a loss for words, the only sounds coming out of your mouth being choked moans and unintelligible whimpers. you kept your face buried in his neck for a moment before kissing down his jaw, all the way down to his collarbones.

jonathan’s breath hitched as he felt your lips touch his scars. they were littered all down his collarbones and shoulders. deliberately, you placed open mouthed kisses down each one, sending a silent message to jonathan — i love every part of you.

he could barely focus on bucking his hips into your cunt, so tight and so warm, let alone the feeling of your lips trailing down his neck and collarbones. it felt sacred — the way you kissed every part of him that held a traumatic memory, the scars that he loathed to look at in the mirror.

yet here you were, appreciating every part of him, down to what he deemed the worst parts of himself.

suddenly, he heard you gasping and felt you clawing at his biceps and shoulders, your dripping hole fluttering around his cock.

“are you, fuck — about to cum, darling?” he asked through heavy breathes, feeling you bouncing on him as he bucked into you.

“m-mhm.” you hummed, delirious as his cock turned you dumb. “r–ight there!”

“fuck, i’m close,” jonathan warned, “beg me to fill you, darling.”

“i-i need it!” you wailed, throwing your head back as you gave jonathan a little show, drenching his length. “fu-fuck! fill me, p-lease!”

your begging worked (of course it would) because as soon as the words left the tip of your tongue, he was holding your hips still with an iron grip as he spilled his warm, sticky seed into your tight, wet hole.

the room went quiet as both of you tried to catch your breaths, clinging onto one another as if the other would somehow dissipate into mirage. you felt jonathan’s calloused, warm hands hold you tighter — closer — as you basked in the love that lingered in the air.

it feels good to be loved, doesn’t it?

“jonathan?” you whispered, still straddling him. “don’t go to work tomorrow — stay home. let me take care of you.”

“i already cancelled my day during dinner,” he said, his voice soft, “please, just let me hold you.”

you sighed blissfully, letting your lover wrap his arms around you as you stayed on top of him for the moment being. “always,” you nod, “...are you okay?”

“now that i’m with you — yes.”

@girlinterrupted505 @ciriceimpera @jordyn-yeager @thevelvetvampyre @galactict3a

@xanaxiii @nocturnest @psylrd @bloodandglitter207 @humbuginmybones

@oceanstem @futurefamousdeadmusician @jonathancraneslittlepet @dolleyednymphette @kpopgirlbtssvt

@ll4n4 @ilovetoxicfictionalmen @the-buddy-things @ellebelleshelby @wiseyouthinfluencer

@minedofmoria @strangeobsessed @5tud10-54r4h @franzine-xii

@stsrfujid @psylrd @eyraaaaaae @nyxxie-pooh @momoewn

@fauxcongenialite @ceruleanrainblues @abprill

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 6 months ago

Text

The apparition

a/n only fitting for to me come back with an angst after a month of disappearing. Do I think that this should have never seen the light of day? Yes. But oh well… Sleep token made me do it. Also, this a one shot. Won’t be writing a part two to this. Pain is pain for a reason. 🥹

warning: forbidden love, addiction, toxic love?, past trauma, brief mentions of sexual intimacy.

The part in italics is the glimpse of the past.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

He felt like a kid. Pushed aside once again. A rock. Kicked carelessly by the side of the road. Mindlessly misplaced. Carelessly ignored. Azriel knew his tendencies. That desire to be loved. To be wanted. To be longed for. That same feeling had him crawling after females who never reciprocated his affection. Yet he crawled back. No matter the amount of stabs his heart took. He always found himself reaching.

Was this something his brothers had warned him about? Yes. Cassian repeatedly sat him down like a youngling, pointing out the damage he was creating. The wounds Azriel was tearing open. The self-inflicted pain he was causing himself. Yes, yes, and triple fucking yes. But it was like a drug, and he was an addict. Addict that was so far down the line that the withdrawal was scarier than knowing that every morning his bed was cold, his arms were empty, and his heart had been bled dry.

The corner street door creaked open. Alerting the lost spymaster. His senses perked up. Azriel doubted that it was true, but even now, even without catching a glimpse of you, he was convinced that he sensed you. But nothing compared to that wave of familiarity that crashed into him when your frame came into view. Chasing the last bits of air out of his lungs. His hands reached out in a frenzy of muscle memory.

“Azriel?”, and it’s the surprise—the hints of horror, almost pain—that sounded in the way you said his name. But his mind was too far gone to register that. So much of an always-alert spymaster. “Oh, no, no," you dragged your hand out of his grip, “You shouldn’t be here”, you shook your head, putting distance between you two. "Please," and here goes that plea. The desperation. “No, Azriel, we had a deal, remember? Last week was the last time," you hissed at him, turning to look over your shoulder.

“This will be the last time," Azriel muttered. A lie. He knew that. But maybe you didn’t. Maybe he could lie to himself to the point where even the ones around him believed him. “Oh, no, I know how this goes." You shook your head repeatedly, “I warned you, you stupid fool." He could feel the frustration flowing through you. The panic. “You promised me you were decent. That you had a hold of your mental shields." There was nothing sweet in your tone as you hissed out, reaching to open the door leading to your shop.

“They were. They are," Azriel muttered, stepping after you. “Don’t lie to me. You can’t fool me”, you huffed, looking through the drawer, cursing as loose pieces of paper swayed, falling to the floor. And Azriel just stood there, watching. Drinking in every single movement. “When?”, you asked, wild eyes looking up at Azriel. And he knew exactly what you wanted to know too. Should he lie? Alter the date? Hide a symptom or two. “Last month," his mouth betrayed him, however, and he had a first-seat ticket to watching your face fall. “But it’s not bad; I have it under control," Azriel quickly jumped in, hoping to defuse the situation, “It just flared up tonight, I promise." Another lie. But if he wanted to get what he was looking for, he had to push this narrative in a convincing enough manner.

“I’m telling Rhys," you muttered. "No," Azriel cut in so quickly that it made you jolt. “No need, plus he is aware that I am seeing you," he added in a much calmer tone. “Seeing me or seeing me now?”, you pushed. It was the mess with Elain that had made him crumple. Had taken him out for months before he found his footing once again. Even if he knew that the relationship had an expiration date, the mating bond always won. No matter the stories others showed down one’s throat about the chance of rejecting it.

“All of it. Knows all of it”, Azriel nodded. Just one more, he thought, just for tonight. “I’m saying this as a friend. You can’t keep coming back," you whispered, “This needs to stop." It was Rhys who had found you. An illusionist manipulating people’s emotions, threading together images that felt real to the depths of one’s bones. An alter of wished they called you. People and even high-fea prayed at your altars for Mother's sake. You were something some feared and others were ready to sacrifice themselves for.

“What illusions do you obtain from?" It was your fifth meeting, and Azriel, much to your dismay, had pushed the idea of getting to know each other. After all, he would have to let you into the depths of his soul. So that had been his one rule—befriend me first. You had stayed silent for a long time. Twirling the red wine in your glass. “Of love," you muttered, and Azriel could have never imagined that those two words would alert all of his life. “Why?”, was a question brought up by pure curiosity back then, with no implied intentions. “It gets messy, and the falsification of love feels wrong. Such feelings shouldn’t be tainted by magic," you said, pushing your hair over your shoulder. You glowed even in the dim light. The curves of your body were breathtaking as you lounged in the day bed on the balcony of Azriel’s apartment. It was a lethal kind of beauty, and with a handful of heartbeats, he knew that he was already slipping.

“I saw Elain today; she... we spoke, and I just..." It was a hell of a lie he was choosing, but the need won out in his logical sense. “Mend it for me; I can’t keep feeling as if I have nothing," he breathed out. His eyes filling up with tears. “Just this one time," Azriel said, sinking to his knees. He saw your walls cracking slowly as you rounded the table. Fingers reaching out to cup his face. His hands reach to hold onto your hips. Pleading eyes burning into you. “I should have never said yes, and I hope you know how much I regret this," you muttered, clawing at his heart.

“Admit it, I’m a fun company." Azriel leaned closer, making sure you could hear him through the music. You had no clue how he managed to drag you to Rita’s of all places, but here you were. One of the finest silks on your skin. A private booth. The lights. The drumming of the crowd. You shook your head, suppressing a smile. “You’ve gotten cocky," you observed, “Who knew you had that in you." Azriel leaned back, undoing the first button of his black shirt. "Oh, there’s so much more you don’t know about me, baby," he said, speaking into thin air. Knowing that you could hear him. He had leaned in only to feel you closer to him. Smirking as he lifted his glass.

His hands reached out, taking hold of your legs as he pulled them up, draping them over his lap. Caught by the sudden movement, you were forced to reach out. Hand on his shoulder as you steadied yourself. That’s when he caught that unrehearsed glimpse of need in your eyes, but it was quickly pushed back. “Now this is crossing the line," you huffed. But before you had a chance to move, Azriel clasped his hand on your thigh. “What are you afraid of?” He threw that question absentmindedly, not realizing how deep that root of pain was. “Wasn’t that what you asked me the first day we met?” Azriel smirked before averting his attention back to the crowd. Leaving you slowly breaking down beneath the feeling of him. Beneath the fear of yourself.

“I should have never given in," you said, lifting his chin, and he obliged without a fuss. “You liked this too. Admit it," Azriel bit back, his hold on you tightening. He would fight hell in hopes of being able to keep his hands on you. In hopes of keeping you. “We had a deal. No falling for one another," you hissed, nails digging into the sides of his face. “I warned you that my kind doesn’t do happy endings and picket fences, Azriel," you huffed. “I don’t need that from you," he argued, “I just need you to chase Elain away. That hasn’t changed. I still love her, not you." Another lie for the night. A bitter chuckle slipped through your lips, “You’re one shit of a liar, dear spymaster of the night court.”.

You were to blame for this just as much. You should have stood your ground. Should have never been entertained by that wimp. Because Rhys had warned you. Told you about Azriel's tendencies. So the fact that he had asked for a night that would make him feel loved should have been a red flag. But it was the empath in you that buckled at the feeling of his sadness. The loneliness that could drown out the whole army. The crippling emptiness. The way he broke down crying as he held onto you.

But all that could have been forgiven. Could have been managed. But it was yourself that you threaded into that glimpse of hope for him. Something you had never done before. It was always a made-up face you used while creating an illusion. It was the safest way. But you had been just as selfish. Nights spent getting to know each other left you wondering what it would feel like to know the touch of a man who wanted you. Who craved you. Who chose you even though loving you was a forbidden act of insanity.

And then it felt as if sending a ship you knew was destined to sink set sail. The next time Azriel stopped by, he was barely through the door as his hand grabbed the back of your head, pulling you closer to him. It felt so raw. So powerful. Whatever was happening in that small corner shop was way too big for it. Too big for Velaris. The whole world. As his hands danced over your body. Unraveling parts of you no one had seen before. Laying you bone bare beneath him. “Make me feel," he had whispered over and over. That sad lost man, making you break your own rules as you wrapped him in the sense of eternal peace as he made love to you over and over again. Digging a grave for each of you.

“If loving that silly girl with flowers in her hair had an explanation date, this has the date of your death engraved on your gravestone," you whimpered, your eyes burning as you held back tears. You warned him. Kept on warning him. In hopes of being able to wash your hands clean afterward. Because he knew the consequences. Loving you wasn’t something that could ever happen. But it only dragged you deeper. “I know. I remember everything," Azriel muttered, pressing ghost-like kisses over your stomach. His hands already slipping past the hem of your dress. Fingers skimming over your legs. You pressed your own hands over his, “Just an illusion this time, nothing more." You reached to pull back from his touch, but his grip on your thighs only tightened. “Let me make love to you," Azriel pleaded, and if you could justify the opium your magic gave him before, it was oozing out in ugly sores now. You had doomed him. Pained tears fell down your cheeks as you kneeled in front of him. Cupping his face with both hands. You let yourself take in the sight of him. Both because you knew that you would never meet another man like him and so you could torment yourself with guilt for fracturing him for the rest of your existence.

“You’re all better now," you muttered, smiling up at him. Azriel’s eyes grew hazy. “Do you remember the night we danced in your apartment after way too much wine?” You pushed the damp curl from his forehead, biting the inside of your cheek so you wouldn’t break down alongside him. He nodded eagerly. “You’re there, my love, in that moment," you said, taking a steady breath. Savoring the warmth of him. The feeling of him being close. “But you’re not there with me. Because I’m not real, Azriel," his shoulders sagged at your words. You could feel him trying to pull back, but you kept your hand on his neck. “I was never here. Never with you. You dreamed me up, baby," you said, pressing your lips to his forehead. You closed your eyes, feeling your own heart shatter, “But it was a nice dream, Az, and you will wake up way lighter tomorrow.”

Those same words were like a broken record as Azriel jumped up. Body aching and drenched in sweat. He turned aimlessly, as if in hopes of seeing you there. But he was in his room. The black sheets covered his body. "No," he grunts, yanking the black silk off him. Without a second thought, he winnowed. To one place that had been calling for him all of these weeks. And he’s nearly falling to his knees as the side of the wall comes into view. No windows. No sign. A solid concrete wall. “I know it’s your doing," he screams angrily into the depths of night. Hands pushing against the solid foundations. But there’s nothing. Not even a breath of you. As if it were never there. As if for the entire time it was just the corner of the street.

“You can’t push me away," he roared, beating his fist till the skin of his knuckles cracked, “You’re a fucking coward; that’s what you are." There was no way he had dreamed it. That you were a fleeting image of the night. Drafted by his brain. “You promised...", Azriel sank to his knees. His hands still pressed against the wall as he leaned against it. “I know it was real; you can’t make me believe otherwise," he crocked out, angry tears rolling down his cheeks. Falling to the ground, he pressed his back against where the door of your shop used to be. His wings sagged on either side of him. And he just sat there. The stars up above keep him company throughout the rest of the night. He wasn’t gonna move. He won’t go. He wouldn’t go. The wind kissed his damp cheeks but he was numb to it. You watched him from the other side of the alley. Hand on your mouth as you drowned the shattering waves of pain within. You watched until the night took you away forever.

#azriel spymaster #azriel acotar imagine #azriel x oc #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x you #azriel x reader #azriel imagine #azriel acotar #azriel #acotar imagine #acotar x you #acotar x reader

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illdowhatiwantthanks · 7 months ago

Text

The Avocado & The Turnip (The Surprise, Part 8)

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: established relationship, pregnancy times, fluffy fluff, kind of hurt/comfort (?), mentions of some pretty horrific crimes (duh), gunshot wound, some explicit language Word Count: 1.8k

Summary: A series of hard cases puts a strain on your relationship with Emily. Anxieties run high on both sides, and the reality of Emily's job–and the risks the come with it–feel even more real than usual now that there's going to be a child in the picture.

Week 16: The Avocado

“I just don’t know what to say to him,” Emily exclaimed, resting her chin on your stomach, a worried look on her face.

Your plans for an adorable evening of talking to the baby had backfired. For unknown reasons, Emily had come home in a bad mood, anxious and on edge. Somehow, the news that the baby could likely hear you now had only made her more anxious.

“You can say anything, Em. She’s the size of an avocado. She’s not gonna remember what we say; she’s gonna remember our voices.”

You ran your fingers through Emily’s hair, trying your best to alleviate some of her stress. You’d meant for this to be good news, to be a fun, cute little moment she could have with you and the baby after a brutal day at work.

“Tell her about your day,” you suggested.

Emily glared at you, and you felt yourself shrink. “I can’t tell him about my day!” she yelled, her voice angry. “What am I supposed to say? Hey, little man! I have to leave you tomorrow to go find a guy who’s murdering teenage boys by ripping their throats out with his teeth and then eating them. But don’t worry, I’ve only had to deal with, oh, ten or so cannibals over the years. The chances of you being cannibalized are slim. Never zero though!”

In your head, you knew that Emily’s outburst had nothing to do with you, nothing to do with the baby, and everything to do with the horrendous things she saw at work. She tried very hard not to bring work home with her, not to carry the weight of the horrors she saw every day into your house. But sometimes they stuck to her. Sometimes they dragged her down, and she couldn’t quite shake them. But it wasn’t often that she was mean. She hardly ever raised her voice at you. She knew it scared you.

You sat up and placed a hand protectively over your stomach, trying to keep your face set, impassive, but flinching a little as Emily moved toward you.

She was instantly full of regret. Her face fell as she noticed that your posture had changed from open to defensive, noticed the way your eyes had glazed over–a remnant of trauma.

“Oh, honey, I’m sorry,” she breathed, cupping your cheek. “I’m so sorry.”

You softened when you saw that she was close to crying–a rarity for Emily–and pulled her head to your chest, pressing kisses to the top of her head.

“I’m sorry, baby,” she mumbled against you. “It was just a hard day.”

“Tell me about it.”

“What?” she asked, lifting her head a bit.

“Tell me,” you insisted. “I can handle it. You’re my wife. You had a bad day. I want to hear about it.”

Emily shook her head, her voice so quiet you almost couldn’t hear. “No, you don’t.”

“Hey,” you said, tilting her chin so she was looking in your eyes. “I can decide what’s too much for me, okay?” You rubbed your thumb back and forth along her cheek. “If I say I can handle it, I need you to believe me.”

Emily sighed, exhaling shakily. “You remember after we started dating?” she explained, her voice low. “And I had a really hard time at work because every victim who was a woman made me think of you?”

“I remember,” you answered. And you did. If there had ever been a time in your relationship when you would’ve broken up with Emily, that would have been it. She’d been angry, on edge, paranoid, and even more obsessive about work than usual. It had eventually gotten so bad that you’d given her an ultimatum–start going to therapy or this isn’t going to work. Nearly six years later, Emily still had a biweekly standing appointment with her therapist–unless, of course, she was in the field.

She played with your fingers, quiet for a moment. “It feels like that all over again, but with kids. Child victims are hard anyway, but… every tiny body I see, I just think of him and–” Her voice broke, and you held her a little tighter. “It scares the shit out of me.”

“Of course it does,” you assured her. “That just means you love her, baby. It means you’re gonna be a great mom. It makes sense that those cases hit closer to home right now.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to take it out on you. Or him.”

You exhaled slowly, kissing the top of her head again. “When was your last appointment with Angie?”

Emily sat up, stretching, and shrugged, looking guilty. “Last month, maybe? I just–I’ve been out on cases and…”

“I know, baby,” you said, taking her hands in yours before she could start biting her nails. “It’s okay. But, maybe you should call her and see if she can get you in. Even tonight, you know? Before you leave tomorrow. She does telehealth, doesn’t she?”

Emily nodded. “Yeah. Okay.”

She still looked guilty and nervous. It broke your heart.

“Come here,” you said, tugging her onto your lap. She wrapped her arms and legs around you and hugged you like you were the only thing keeping her tethered to this world. And for your part–you held on like you’d never, ever let her go–and you never, ever would.

Week 17: The Turnip

“She what!?” you yelled into the phone, launching yourself off the couch and scrounging around in the junk drawer for your keys.

“Calm down, mama,” Derek soothed through the phone. “It’s just a surface wound. The bullet grazed her shoulder, that’s all.”

“That’s all!? My wife gets shot, and you’re telling me that’s all!?”

You heard a scuffle on the other end of the phone, a distant, sharp Give me the phone! and then there was Emily’s voice, flooding you with relief.

“Honey, I’m fine, I promise,” she said, and she certainly didn’t sound like she was dying.

“You got shot!”

“Just a little bit…” Her voice was sheepish.

You threw up your hands in frustration. “Emily Elizabeth Prentiss! You have a child coming. You can’t be getting shot!”

“I know, I know.”

You sighed, rubbing your forehead. “What hospital are you at?”

“No, baby, you don’t need to come,” she protested.

“Don’t need to come, my ass,” you grumbled. “Where are you?”

Another scuffle and Derek had the phone back. “Y/N. Hey. We’re just in Baltimore, alright? She’ll probably be discharged here in a few minutes, and I’ll bring her home.”

You were still a little suspicious. “Straight home?”

“You have my word.”

It was the longest hour and a half of your life, sitting on the couch, watching the Find My dot of Emily inch its way home. You frowned when you saw her stop at El Rinconcito. That little shit. She was trying to buy you off with pupusas. Well, it wasn’t going to work. Your stomach rumbled. Well, it might work a little bit.

A half hour later, you heard the door unlock. Derek held it open for a very guilty looking Emily, who walked through the threshold with her arm bandaged and wrapped in a sling.

“Oh my god,” you breathed, your hands fluttering all over her, gingerly touching the bandage and turning her face this way and that to check for more damage.

“I’m fine, honey,” she said, pressing her good hand to your face and kissing you.

“Mmhm,” you mumbled, unconvinced. “Tell that to your unborn child.”

Emily crouched down and pressed a kiss to your stomach. “Mommy’s just fine, little guy, don’t you worry.”

It was so cute, you couldn’t even be that mad.

“Alright, lovebirds,” Derek said, gesturing to the couch. “Get comfortable and let Uncle Derek take care of you.”

You grimaced, thinking of straight people things. “Eew.”

He rolled his eyes at you. “Not like that. Sit down and eat your pupusas, woman.”

You and Emily giggled, plopping yourselves on the couch, one on either side.

Derek threw blankets at you, and you got yourselves situated, your legs tangled in the middle. Derek plated the takeout and brought it to you.

“I could get used to this,” Emily said, taking a bite and running her foot up and down your leg.

“You better fucking not,” you mumbled through a bite of pupusa. “I don’t want you getting shot every time you want a lazy day.”

Derek brought you both glasses of water and set a bottle of pain meds on the side table next to Emily.

“Anything else I can do for you, ladies?” he asked. “Foot rub? Serenade? Grocery run?”

You smiled at him. He was so good to you. Both of you. “You’re gonna make some straight woman very happy.”

He bent down to ruffle your hair and to squeeze Emily’s good hand. “I’ll settle for my favorite lesbians for now. You need anything else before I go?”

Emily shook her head. “No, I think we’ll be okay. Thanks, Morgan.”

“Anytime, Prentiss,” he replied, giving her a small salute as he walked out the door. "Call me if you need anything."

The moment he left, you shot a glare at Emily.

“What?” she said, trying and failing to shrug, thanks to her injured shoulder.

You couldn’t help the worried expression that took over your face.

“Please tell me you’re careful,” you pleaded, brushing a few unexpected tears from under your eyes.

“Y/N.” She sat up, alarmed, and reached for your hand. “I’m careful. I swear.”

“I just… I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“And you’ll never have to find out,” she reassured, rubbing her thumb across the back of your hand.

“We need you, Em,” you whispered, placing your other hand over your baby bump.

She winced a little as she moved forward, pulling your face toward her so she could stroke your cheek. “I’m never reckless, honey. I do everything I can to stay safe. I promise. I will always come home to you.”

You were quiet as she pressed her forehead to yours, breathing in the smell of her, the warmth. You both knew it was a promise she couldn't make, not with her job. But you needed Emily to understand that it wasn't just her she was staying safe for anymore. It was you and the little one, who deserved to grow up with both of her moms.

“Sometimes it scares me how much I love you,” you said, so quiet she almost didn’t hear.

Emily kissed your forehead, then pressed her lips to yours, soft and gentle. “Me too.”

She pecked you on the lips again, then brushed her thumb over your bottom lip. “But you don’t need to be scared today, okay?”

She smiled a little, and you nodded, taking a deep breath.

“Now, eat your pupusas,” she grinned, pinching your cheek.

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x fem!reader #emily prentiss fanfic #emily prentiss fluff #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic

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toournextadventure · 2 years ago

Text

bad dream?

Summary: Tara wakes up in the middle of the night from a nightmare. Again. They always seem to come at the worst of times. But at least she can ask you to keep her company for the night.

Word Count: 1.8k Warnings: swearing, mentions of Ghostface and related trauma Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader

Tara woke with a start. Her eyes opened to the dark room illuminated only by the street lights outside her window. The image of Ghostface was engraved into her eyelids every time she blinked. If she focused on one spot for too long, she could almost see him standing in the corner of her room. Watching her. Waiting.

She sat up and rubbed her eyes quickly; if she took too long, He would be there again. It didn’t make much of a difference though, her palms were so sweaty she had to wipe them off on her bed. Not that it helped much, her bed was soaked too.

“Gross,” she mumbled to herself as she continued to sit in almost a literal pool of her own sweat.

Every time a car drove by outside, she flinched. It was from the headlights, or the sound, or even just the knowledge that someone had been outside her room even for a fleeting moment. All they would have to do is climb up the fire escape and that would be it, she would be done for.

Tara liked to pretend during the day that nothing bothered her. Sam was already so openly traumatised about it, she couldn’t add her own trauma to it. But she was scared, and it came out at night. When she was enveloped with the darkness and every sound could be Him, watching and waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

With shaky hands, she grabbed her phone from the nightstand and turned it on. The light from the screen blinded her, but only for a moment. 2:17am. Too fucking late to just stay up, too early to do anything about it. She sat there and chewed her lip, thinking about what her next move was.

There was no way she was going to wake Sam up. What, was she going to waltz in there in her pyjamas, stand at the foot of the bed and say “I had a bad dream?” No, she wasn’t a little kid. But she didn’t want to be alone, and that narrowed her options considerably.

Well…

She dialled your number and held her phone up to her ear. Each time it rang, she felt herself getting more and more anxious. What if you didn’t answer? God, what if something had happened to you? What if He was back and had gone after you to get to her and Sam?

“Hello?” You mumbled, sleep evident in your voice. She exhaled through her nose; you were safe.

“Did I wake you?” She asked.

“No,” you said, followed by some ruffling on your end. “I’m always awake at 2:30 in the morning.”

“It’s not 2:30 yet,” Tara said quickly. She got out of bed and started digging through her dresser drawers; she needed something clean to put on.

You were silent on the other end of the line, and for a moment Tara was convinced you had fallen back asleep. It was a habit of yours to fall asleep while on the phone, or during a movie, or occasionally while hanging out with her friends. You blamed it on studies, she blamed it on the massive crash after all the caffeine you drank during the day.

“Did you have a nightmare?” You finally asked, your voice far too gentle for her to appreciate.

“No,” she said quickly. “Just a bad dream.”

“That’s a nightmare.”

“Semantics,” Tara argued. She started pulling on a new pair of shorts as she waited for you to say something else.

“Would you like some company?”

She froze and stood in the middle of her room. Yes, she thought. She very much wanted some company, especially from you. There was something about you that made her feel safe; it was why she had agreed to go out with you in the first place. But she knew how often you sacrificed your own well-being for her. She couldn’t ask that of you again.

A creak in the apartment made her jump.

Actually, yes she could ask you to sacrifice your well-being again.

“I’ll leave the window open,” she said, quickly moving to do exactly as stated.

“Give me about ten minutes,” you said, and she heard more shuffling from your end of the line.

“Stay on the line with me?” She asked hesitantly.

“Sure thing, pretty girl,” you said. “Give me a sec, I’m switching you to my headphones.”

Tara looked down at the firescape outside her window. The light two floors down came on, and she could see a shadow reflecting off the metal railing. It moved, and she heard the matching shuffling and clamouring before you spoke again.

“Can you hear me?” You asked; you sounded a bit staticy, but otherwise clear.

“Yeah,” she said with a nod that you couldn’t see.

“Did you wanna talk about it?” You asked as you continued to shuffle around your room. The light from your room swayed as you moved inside.

“Just the usual,” she said absentmindedly, leaning against the windowpane and trying not to shiver from the cold fall air.

It was a lie; it wasn’t the usual nightmare. This one was about you. About Ghostface coming back and using you to strike a very particular note of fear into her. Using you as the bait in His twisted game, asking her questions she didn't know, and being forced to watch as He gutted you like a fish.

“You’re such a liar, Tara,” you huffed, but she could hear the little laugh.

“How would you even know?” She asked with her own huff.

“Cause I can see you.”

Tara jumped and dropped the phone to the floor, spinning on her heels to look at the window. You were crawling in, a duffel bag over your shoulder and holding something in your mouth. It almost looked like a movie case. Your headphones covered your ears and you smiled at her as best you could.

“You’re such a prick,” she grumbled, but quickly ran over to help you in.

“Take it,” you mumbled around the case, holding your head forward. She took the hint and grabbed it. “Thank you.”

“Do you make it a habit of creeping in people’s windows?” She asked as she grabbed you by the elbows to steady your stumbling into the room.

“Only when they invite me,” you said with a smile. You leaned forward and captured her lips in a quick kiss. “Hey, baby.”

“You didn’t actually have to come,” she mumbled against your lips.

“You asked me to,” you said, giving her another quick kiss. “I’m always happy to keep you company.”

While you moved to set the duffle bag on the bed, Tara went to close the window. She looked down to the alley below for a moment, checking to make sure no one was out there. It wouldn’t surprise her if He was watching, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. Sam and Quinn were asleep, it would be easy for Him to-

“-Baby.”

She turned quickly to see you already stripping down the bed. You were moving with the speed of a military vet - all thanks to your mother - with none of the stress. But your eyes were on her, looking her up and down. It made her self-conscious. With a sigh she crossed her arms over her stomach, holding herself in a faux hug.

“Wanna tell me about the nightmare?” You asked in a soft voice. She hated when you were soft with her; it made her feel fragile.

“Aren’t those your bedsheets?” She completely overlooked your question, her eyes landing on the new sheets you were finishing tucking in.

“Freshly washed,” you said with a half smile. “I have to do laundry tomorrow anyway, I’ll throw your sheets in.”

“Anyone ever told you you’re whipped?” She asked, but nonetheless she crawled into the freshly made bed. It smelled like you.

“All the time,” you said with an exaggerated sigh. “Feels better, don’t it?”

“They’re cheap sheets,” Tara shot back. You barked out a laugh that echoed through the room.

“Talk about ungrateful,” you said around a few more bouts of laughter.

The sheets were warming up when she slid down a little further, pulling the thick comforter up to her chin. She just watched you move around. It always amazed her how many things you could fit in your trusty duffle bag. Tonight, you brought out a folding lawn chair, your laptop, a textbook, some snacks, and…

“Is that a bat?” Tara asked when you plopped down into the chair, the weapon resting on your lap.

“Why yes it is,” you said proudly. “Wooden and ready to beat a few heads in.”

“You brought a bat to your girlfriend’s room?” She probed.

“Tara, I love you,” you said with a pointed look. “But you and your sister are danger magnets and I am not taking any chances.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but quickly closed it. It wasn’t like she could deny your accusation; you were right. She and Sam were always attracting some sort of danger, whether it was Ghostface or the crazy conspiracy theorists from Reddit. There was always something around the corner.

And you apparently were choosing to face it head on instead of running away like everyone else had.

“Get some sleep, baby,” you said softly when Tara remained silent. “I can see the window and the door.” There was a seriousness on your face even though your body seemed relaxed. “No one is getting in.”

“Can you stay in bed with me?” She asked.

“I can’t see the door and window from the bed,” you said not unkindly.

“Just until I fall asleep,” she tried again.

Not that she should have been concerned whether you would or wouldn’t get in bed with her. You didn’t even hesitate before placing the bat down on the ground and standing up, stretching for only a moment before crawling into bed behind her. Relief flooded her veins the instant your arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her close.

“Thank you,” she whispered, leaning forward to kiss the hand near her face.

“Of course, baby,” you said just as quietly. She felt your lips press against the back of her neck. “I’ll always come when you call.”

With a soft sigh, she cuddled further into you and finally felt her body relax. You were there with her, you were safe. No one was going to get in, He wasn’t going to come back. Someone she loved was with her, holding her tight and keeping her safe.

“Good night, Tara,” you whispered, and she felt you press another kiss to the top of her head.

She had never fallen asleep so fast.

#tara carpenter x reader #tara x reader #tara carpenter

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wcnderlnds · 2 months ago

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whats left of me | kai anderson

✧ fluff/angstober day two | "i cant believe i wasted my life on you" ✧

・❥・warnings: kai himself is a whole warning... but other than that theres maybe one swear word. ・❥・ authors note: i havent watched cult in like a year but i hate to love this man.

Before things had changed, Kai had been your everything. The two of you had grown up together – seen each other at your best and worst… or so you thought. Little did you know Kai’s worst had yet to come. Things at home were never great for Kai but you had been his little ray of sunshine in those dark days. The nights you spent in the basement cuddling on the couch with him were what had got him through most of the time. It always gave him something to look forward to. But, of course, most of the time you were over his parents could be heard arguing upstairs. Kai had always pretended like it didn’t bother him but you knew it did. You always knew.

Kai had never truly explained to you what had happened to his parents - just that they were gone. It was something you never questioned, especially when he’d made you pinky promise not to. If there was one thing you never did, that was break a pinky promise. That was something the two of you had done since you were kids. The one time you had broke one when you were five, Kai hadn’t spoken to you for a whole week so you’d never done it again.

The more time passed, the more Kai fell off the deep end but you were determined to stick by his side. It was how he was coping with his trauma. Everyone processed things differently. You told yourself that he needed you, that deep down inside there was still the Kai you knew in there despite all the horrible things he’d started to do. There had always been hope inside you that he’d find his way through the other side.

“You’ll always love me, right?” He asked one night, his blue hair falling into his eyes as you sat with your pinky hooked with his.

“Yeah, always.”

“And, you’ll never leave me?”

“Never.”

The plan was to always stay with him, to always be the support he needed but that got harder and harder as time passed. He became cruel and manipulative especially towards you. So many times you had tried to leave but he had always made you feel bad, always made you feel like you owed him something. So, you stuck by his side. Everyday your heart broke a little bit more as you realised the boy you had once loved was gone; now replaced by this… awful, disgusting human being. There was no way to describe how much that hurt. How every single sharp word he spat at you made you curl up and cry yourself to sleep every single night.

Things took a turn the night he called you out right in front of his cult members. He absolutely embarrassed you and made you look stupid. That was when you finally snapped. The second you were alone you let him know exactly how you felt. There was no holding back now. Enough was enough and you’d really had enough.

“How could you do that to me?” You cried, pushing him slightly. He didn’t even stumble.

“Maybe you should’ve thought about that before you acted like an idiot and I had to put you in your place,” Kai shot back.

“All I did was suggest that maybe you calm down a little bit and you had to call me out in front of everyone like that? Call me all those names? Say all those horrible, disgusting things?”

“Idiots get punished.” That floored you. Tears brimmed in your eyes causing him to scoff. “Grow up. Tears don’t work on me. You know that better than anyone.”

“What happened to you? What happened to my Kai?” You had to bite back a sob as he just shrugged his shoulders. He really didn’t give a damn about you.

“Nothing. I’m right here.”

“No, you’re not and you haven’t been for a very long time.”

He took a step toward you, grabbing your wrist to pull you closer to him. His hot breath fanned your face as he looked down at you, tucking your hair behind your ear. It was almost a soft gesture but you knew it was just a way to try and get you to calm down. He knew how to make you putty in his arms but it wasn’t going to work this time. “I’ve never left. You’re the one that’s turned into a whiny little bitch.”

At that you pulled back and did the one thing you never thought you’d do and slapped him straight across the face. “I can’t believe I wasted my life on you.”

You headed to the door almost in a run. Kai stood in shock momentarily, his hand on his cheek where you’d slapped him. The sting had almost woke up him but it was fleeting when a thunderous look plastered on his face. He ran after you. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

“I’m leaving.” The sob you’d been holding back finally escaped. It felt like someone had ripped your heart from your chest and stomped it into a million pieces.

“You promised me. You said you never would!” Kai yelled. Why was his heart aching all of a sudden? Why did it feel like the world was spinning?

The tears were falling freely down your face now as you spun around to face the stranger in front of you. “Sometimes promises are meant to be broken.”

“You can’t leave me!” Kai reached out to grab your arm but you were quick and took a step back, hand on the door handle as you took one last look at him.

“Goodbye Kai.”

Before Kai could even react, you were gone. What did it matter anyway? He didn’t need you. He really didn’t.

…except he did but he’d never admit that.

#kai anderson #kai anderson x reader #kai anderson imagine #angstober #i’ve never wrote kai before and i may never again 😭#my fics

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sexiestpodcastcharacter · 1 year ago

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Sexiest Podcast Character — Unscripted Bracket — Round 3

Propaganda

Glenn Close (Dungeons & Daddies):

#Propaganda for Glenn Close: one of the other PCs mentions multiple times how hot he is #Actually several characters point it out but especially Henry #Also the only person in a podcast that has to put a disclaimer about not being a BDSM podcast to have had sex during the course of the show

PLEASASSWEEPLEASE TOU DONT HUNRERFSTABDS

GLENN GLENN GLENN ITS GLENN VOTE GLENN VOTE FOR THE BOY

We didn’t do hot Glenn summer for him to LOSE. Spoilers for his story but MORE PROPAGANDA FOR YOU:

Young hot rocker dilf

Loyal to his dead wife <3

Does in fact smoke weed

BARD!! HES A BARD. HE WAS LEAD GUITAR IN HIS BAND (that he was kicked out of)

His band was a Christmas cover band btw.

Literally the fandom had hot Glenn summer which consisted of drawing him being incredibly hot and sexy

Anti government (ofc)

Kind of cringefail (Disney adult) (was on dilfs of disneyland)

Young and sexy not your style? Then how about HIM AFTER YEARS LOCKED IN A TIME PRISON WITH A DAMN HANNIBAL MASK ??

Lost an eye and wears a fucking eyepatch

One incredibly buff arm

Has a pet rat named after his son <3

Immeasurable amounts of trauma in this man- becomes progressively more unhinged

OH OLD HUMAN BARD ISNT CUTTING IT? FINE

HE BECOMES A FUCKING DEMON

A COOL HOT ONE-EYED DEMON WHO WANTS TO KILL HIS DAD (also sexy)

HE CANONICALLY ENDS CHRISTIAN HELL VIA CHRISTMAS

IS ALSO WAY OVERLEVELED

Becomes a demon hunter for the rest of his existence

Also nonwhite !!! We are done with cringefail whiteboys !!!!!!!!!

I can’t put into words ok just know he is the best plz love him.

GLENN GLENNNNNN

Listen, I don't know this other character but I've seem some good arguments for her However Consider Glenn Close winning through no effort of his own in a bullshit way despite being a dick is the most in character thing ever. He leveled up three times and got a crab mech, we GOT to give him this win, it's fitting

I haven't dedicated the last 2 months of my life drawing Glenn close for him to lose

Vote for Glenn Close or I will make you read the parody I did of the vaporeon copypasta

I don’t regulate if minors follow me or not bc I’m a pretty chill space but I hope the world is aware that’s the only reason I haven’t been downright nasty about Glenn close. I’m down bad. I’m NOT in the boat of ‘Glenn isn’t sexy but I want him to win bc it’s my fandom’. I would estimate I have 200+ drawings of Glenn on my phone that AREN’T safe for work. Way more that are. Where did they come from? That’s MY business. But I tell you this fact to assure you- Glenn IS sexy. I’m not voting to represent my fandom I’m voting out of TRUTH AND LOVE. IF YOU DON’T GET IT YOU DON’T GET IT!!! I just think my level of feral over this man is more powerful than y’all realize. If you don’t get his sex appeal that’s okay, but don’t doubt that this is my truth.

VOTE GLENN

Glenn fuckers fought tooth and nail to get us here from like 38% dawg we DESERVE THIS. GLENN IS THE SEXIEST MAN!!! HE WAS THE FIRST FICTIONAL CHARACTER I FOUND HOT AND HE’S GONNA CONTINUE TO SWEEP!!! Your hot goat woman sounds sexy don’t get me wrong but I’m forever fighting for the man that changed my brain chemistry. Proud of our fandom tbh. I don’t think y’all understand the sheer amount of effort I have put in to get my boy where he is today but this placement feels well earned. TO GLENN SWEEP!!

THE FUCK YOU MEAN GLENN CLOSE ISNT WINNING IM BOUT TO THROW HANDS FR

Okay but Glenn made a minivan cum by talking to her so

Yalll better vote glenn i swear to god

Vote Glenn or else the bird gets it🐦🛸

HOW IS MY DUDE NOT WINNING????

GLEN GELN NELG GLENNANN HE DESERVS ITTTT

HE HAS A BOOK THAT HE MARKS X’S AND CHECKS FOR EVERY DAY TO SEE IF THAT DAY WAS A SUCCESS OR NOT. TO SEE IF HE DID GOOD THAT DAY. ITS ALMOST ENTIRELY X’S. HE WAS CUCKED OUT OF A SON. AND A DEAD WIFE. HE DIDN’T EVEN GET TO KILL HIS DAD IN REVENGE. There’s absolutely nothing going for him except his sex appeal in his life. Nobody he loved remembers him. He lost his eye. All he has is a pet rat and friends who admit they don’t really like him that much. He was kicked out of his own band. The band was named after him. He was kicked out of the Glenn Close trio. All he could do was deez nuts the big bad and be sexy. If nothing else, then pity him. Look in his eyes. Look at his heart and soul. Do you think pickman needs this to feel good about herself? Can she not accept a loss for the sake of a pathetic father? Can she shake hands with the minivan fucker and his human gun and just take the L on this one? He did not do the BDSM episode for this I’ll tell you what. Do this for my his sake. Do it for Nick Jr, who needs the prize money to pay for his rat snacks. Do it for his son. For Morgan. Ganbatte.

Mod Note: While I will still take "bad dads are sexy" propaganda and "bad dads aren't sexy" anti-propaganda, I kindly request no more discussion on whether or not he was a bad father. This is a sexypoll, not a parentingpoll. If you see a post you strongly disagree with, you can just not reblog it.

Taako (The Adventure Zone: Balance):

A celebrity chef from another plane

#Round 3 #Glenn Close #Taako #Dungeons & Daddies #Dungeons and Daddies #The Adventure Zone #TAZ Balance

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fallstreakfeathers · 4 months ago

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Where Light Dwells- part II (Sekido Pet!AU)

Warnings: au typical trauma

Word Count: 8,658

If it's unreadable, try it on Ao3 : Where Light Dwells Part 1 is Here @hantenguclonesimp-minuszoha Spife come get ur food

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚══════════════════════════════════════════╝

Rain pelts your windows like small stones as you turn into the dark parking lot. It’s empty, except for a couple employee cars, not that it really surprises you. You’re thankful, actually, as you crash through the door, water dripping from the coat you wear to hide your injury, panting with exhaustion from trying to outrun the storm.

An old woman sits at the reception desk, tapping away on an old keyboard.

A small black sign in gaudy cursive tells you her name is Angela.

“Please, I need help! My demon is… he’s very sick, I-I-I think he might be dying,” you stammer, stumbling over the words in the rush to get them out. “He’s in my car - I can’t carry him alone!”

The receptionist adjusts her reading glasses peering over them at you as if you’ve grown a second head. The wind pushes rain against the window in waves forceful enough that it almost sounds like laughter- like the very weather is mocking your urgency.

“He’s hurt bad!”

She shakes her head.

“I’m sure he’s just a bit ill, dear,” says the woman with a kindly smile. An attempt to reassure you. “Demons rarely get sick, but I promise you, whatever’s going on, it’s nothing he won’t heal from.” You shake your head vigorously.

“You don’t understand. I don’t think you’ve ever seen anything like this. I’m begging you. Please help him. He’s in my car,” you repeat, waving your good arm helplessly. “H-he can’t stand. He's thrown up everywhere, and he can’t talk and he... he’s…” you interrupt yourself with a frustrated sob. You are so out of your league.

“Okay, alright,” the woman behind the desk says with another glance at you, “I’ll go check, okay? Try to calm down.”

The fear in your voice is strong enough for the receptionist to become concerned, though her look was one of pity and confusion.

No one has ever been so worried about a demon.

Still, she follows you out into the icy rain and to your car as you nearly trip over your own feet.

You open the door and the receptionist immediately puts her hand to her nose.

“Oh…”

She takes one look inside and gasps.

Sekido lays there motionless and with dried vomit around his mouth. Trembling in his semi-conscious state. Bleeding with every wheezing breath.

“Oh my...” her face turns pale as she turns to you. “Let me get help.” Angela rushes back into the building, leaving you alone with Sekido.

You place your hand on his shoulder and rub gently in motions you hope are soothing.

He does not make a sound, doesn’t have the strength.

You don’t even know if he can feel you, though you can feel the wheeze in his chest as it falls.

Don’t know if he can hear you. There’s shouting from inside the building, and a glance at the too meticulously cleaned doors of the facility shows that several people scuttling about like ants.

You turn your attention back to your demon. “You’ll be fine,” you assure him for the umpteenth time that day as the technician reappears.

She is followed by a man you assume is the vet - a tall, stern-looking man in a white coat and round glasses, pulling a stretcher behind him. Without stopping to process his own astonishment at the sight, the vet carefully moves the demon to the bed with Angela’s help and gets him inside just as quickly.

You can see them stringing your demon up with a transparent fluid, and another nurse seems to take his pulse. The bewildered look on his face doesn’t encourage you- begins stripping what hope you’ve clung to. You try to follow them, to stay with Sekido, but Angela holds out her thin arm to stop you just before your hand reaches the door that leads into the back.

“We can’t have you back there right now, hon,” she shakes her head, motioning towards her desk. You start to protest, but she’ll hear none of it. “There’s no room for you in there, dear. You’ll just be in the way. I promise, he’s in the best hands possible,” Angela says. “In the meantime, I have some paperwork I’m going to need you to fill out for us. I need you to tell me about him- is he yours?” she continues as you give a reluctant look toward the metal doors before slowly shuffling to the desk and settling into the creaky chair. You can’t seem to focus on her words, your mind drifting to Sekido. What was happening behind those heavy doors? Angela smiles apologetically, and you think to yourself that she smiles a lot. “I know this is hard, but try to just focus on the questions. It’ll help us help him. Sekido is yours, correct?” The fluorescent lights overhead glint harshly off polished floors, leaving a sterile, stuffy gleam on everything they touch. The air is heavy with the smell of antiseptic, strong enough that it makes you slightly nauseous. It is a reminder of the frailty of life in these walls. “Yes.” You don’t hesitate at that, surprising yourself with the quick response. “I-I mean, he is now. As of today, yes.” The paper forms all ask for various basic information, which would be fine had you adopted Sekido the usual way- in which that information is provided. You don’t know his lineage or his medical history. You barely even know his temperament, really, and that was only through your short (terrifying) experience with him. “Don’t worry too much about the papers then. Just give us what you know, okay?” Angela says as you struggle to fill the blank spots of the form. “You can leave the fields empty and we’ll take care of it. You said he’s yours as of today? What do you mean by that? Did you buy him?” Your nose wrinkles at the thought of buying something so human-looking. Don’t understand how nobody else sees the problem with it. “I found him at the side of the road a few hours ago,” you admit. “He was tied to a tree. I don’t know anything but his name, really…” Another question: relationship to patient. How.. How do you define what you are to the demon when you’d only met him hours ago. Owner? You don’t like that one. Hate what it implies. Hate that it reduces Sekido to an item. Acquaintance? Sure. that could work, but… ‘Friend’, you settle on, placing a firm punctuation at the end of the word. You hand the papers back and hiss in pain when you accidentally knock your injured arm against the table. “Are you okay?” the woman asks, and you freeze. “Y-yeah. Yeah,” you wave off her concern with an awkward laugh. “I just, uh, hurt my arm. No big deal.” You flash a smile to assure her, but it comes out as a grimace. Feels almost as painful as the injury itself. There’s no way you could tell her the truth. Violence against a human was a death sentence for demons, even if it was self-defense. That’s what the wiki said, at least. It wouldn’t matter that he didn’t really know what he was doing, or that it was your own fault. “Really, I’m fine.” It wouldn’t matter to anyone else that he was scared out of his wits. Demons had no rights. “Here, let me see,” Angela insists gently as if she's talking to an anxious child- takes your arm despite your protest. She unwraps the filthy cloth, revealing a swollen, inflamed wound that has her humming in surprise. “Oh my… Did he do this?” “It’s not his fault!” You blurt in panic, pulling the limb back. Though it no longer bled, the punctures are deeper than you originally thought. The air stung, sent throbbing pain through the flesh. “Don’t blame him. Please don’t hurt Sekido!”

“We’re not going to hurt him, dear,” Angela's compassionate eyes offered a small amount of hope. “I-it was my fault! I was stupid, and I think he was delirious. It wasn’t his fault,” you repeat with a quivering voice. “He’s just sick…” She nodded like she understood. “It’s alright, dear,” the old woman pats your shoulder. “But you need a hospital for that. It’s going to need stitches and, unfortunately, we don’t work on humans here.” She giggles at her own joke in an attempt to soothe you.

You shake your head vigorously. “I’m not leaving him,” you say firmly. “I can’t go to the hospital!” They would ask questions. They would want to know about Sekido, and if they did then he would receive a euthanasia order- be considered a threat, too dangerous to live.

If you left him, would he still be there when you returned? Would he think you abandoned him? Would they take the opportunity to rid the world of a demon everyone else considered too much trouble to help? “There’s nothing we can do for you here. I’m very sorry, but you’ll need to see a human doctor for your arm. Sekido will be here when you get back,” Angela promises. “Sometimes we have to trust others to help us, even if it’s scary. Hopefully, when you get back, he’ll be right healthy and healing. But you have to heal yourself so you can keep helping him, right?” “You won’t put him down?” You need her to confirm as you nervously rock back and forth on your feet. To be assured that the vet wouldn’t just wait until you left to kill him.

Was Sekido even yours? You weren’t certain of the technicalities. His owners had abandoned him, clearly with no intent to retrieve him, so, surely that meant he was your demon now? It was a strange realization, though one that wasn’t entirely unwelcome to you.

“No,” the technician replies firmly. “We can’t euthanize any creature without the owner’s- your- written consent. That includes this demon.” She lowers her voice into an almost conspiratorial whisper: “I won’t mention your arm or the wound. Please, go get it cared for. It’s going to be a while, but if anything changes I’ll call you with the number you’ve given us, okay?” Finally, you cave. What else could you do? Sekido was out of your hands- for now. “Okay… Okay. I’ll go,” you mumble. “Maybe I should get the car cleaned, too.” You try to laugh, but it comes out dry and withered. “The whole thing kinda stinks…” Besides, when you finally take Sekido home, you’d like to think he might prefer a clean car.

-------- ≪ °✾° ≫ --------

You return several hours later with a stitched arm, scrubbed seats, and bills you don’t even want to think about. At least you have insurance to cover most of it. Still, maybe you’ll pick up an extra shift- just for a little while. It wouldn’t hurt to have the extra money for Sekido’s needs anyhow. When you walk inside, Angela breaks into a grin, casting a ray of warmth that lightens the load on your heart. “He’s going to be okay, hon!” You release the breath you didn’t know you held, swallowing the lump in your throat. “R-really? Oh my God, that’s incredible!” Angela’s smile widens as she squeezes your hand. “Yes, really! The doctors were able to stabilize him, and he’s responding very well to antibiotics. Isn’t that amazing?” You feel tears of relief welling up in your eyes. Fumbling to express yourself amidst the waves of emotion that suddenly course through you, you manage to gather yourself enough to utter a “thank you!”, though the words come quietly. You wipe away your misty eyes, part of the day's stress melting off. “Thank you!” you say again, stronger this time.

The metal doors of the infirmary open quietly and the man who took Sekido from your car walks in. Somehow he seems even more imposing up close. He looks to Angela, as if investigating the sudden commotion. “John, this is that demon’s owner,” she explains. John greets you with a polite, firm handshake, but his face is grim. It makes you uneasy, and it’s hard to keep a genuine smile on your face as your heart sinks once more. “I’d like you to come with me,” he says, motioning to one of the empty exam rooms. “There are some things I need to discuss with you.”

Your brow furrows at his tone.

He closes the door behind you and leans his back against the exam stable, balancing himself with the palms of his hand. You take your seat on the bench. “Sekido has been stabilized, I’m sure Angela told you,” he started, then hesitates, rubbing his forehead like he had a headache. Finally, he raises his head and looks at you.

“This demon was in the worst condition I have seen... Never in my 25 years of practice have I ever treated a demon in septic shock,” John admits. “Frankly, I hadn’t thought such a thing was even possible considering how quickly the creatures usually heal.” Your eyes widen. You might not know much about demons, but you knew how dangerous blood poisoning was for any living thing. If you hadn’t brought Sekido here, if you had attempted to wait until tomorrow, he likely would have died in your home. The thought of how much this demon has suffered makes your stomach turn, but you try not to let yourself feel too guilty about your original plan to bring him home before a doctor visit. You didn’t know. “How?” How did he get so ill? How could anyone abuse a living person so horrifically? How could you continue to help this man? “Generally, a demon’s wounds will heal rapidly on their own- unless something impedes that process,” the vet repeats. “Malnutrition and ‘sun-sickness’ are common problems…relatively. Though it’s rare, old age. Demons do age, just at a much, much slower rate than we do. Or, like I found in his blood, wisteria. I think I know how Sekido ended up tied to that tree.” You wait for him to continue, interested in his theory. “While I was shaving Sekido’s matted hair, I found a series of numbers and letters tattooed on the back of his neck, just under his hairline,” John takes a weary breath, and you know that the information he’s about to give you may change how you view your situation entirely. “Considering this, and his blood, I suspect that Sekido is, or was, part of an illicit demon fighting ring- where people force captive demons to fight and place bets on them.”

Your jaw drops, horrified as the eerie revelation casts a more sinister shadow over your limited knowledge of Sekido’s life. “Oh, God…” An underground fighting ring? His rampant hostility made even more sense now. Your stomach twists in disgust. It seems there's no end to humanities cruelty. Dogs, birds, humans, demons- some people revel in the thrill of watching living creatures tear each other apart. There is no honor in these fights, you already know. It is grotesque, a fight for life. For survival.

“His blood is strong. Unlike anything I’ve seen in demons before. If I had to classify it, finding a demon like him is like finding a diamond in a mud pit. He is extremely valuable, to the right people, and his owners paid a lot of money to get him. I’ll cut to the chase- he probably lost a fight, costing someone more money than he was bought with, and he was abandoned for it. His masters dearly wanted him to suffer. That’s the only reason wisteria would be anywhere near a demon. It’s deathly toxic to them,” the vet’s voice cut through the air, shaping the demon's past with grim detail. “Because Sekido is so used to violence and fighting for everything just to survive, he will never be able to live as a normal pet. He reacts to every stressor with violence. We had to sedate him just to finish treating him,” John trails off. You wince at that knowledge, wishing you could have been in the room. Maybe it would’ve helped to have a sort of familiar face nearby while strangers poked and prodded and injected him with odd things- or maybe not. “Listen… There's no easy way to say this, but,” he looks you in the eye, “in my experience, demons like this cannot be rehabilitated. Sekido can never be integrated as a normal companion, much less be around other demons. He will struggle even being around humans.”

Your heart drops.

“I’m very sorry, but despite how valuable this creature is, I would suggest putting Sekido down. For his sake. You tried your best to help him, and that’s admirable,” John said. “He is very lucky to have met someone like you. Not many would have gone through the trouble to free him. But, the fact is that this is a very traumatized, aggressive demon. He’s already attacked you once. I cannot tell you honestly that he won’t do it again.” He placed his hand on your shoulder with a sympathetic smile. “Some wounds run too deep to heal. He is too dangerous for anyone to reasonably handle. A ticking time-bomb that will destroy any normal household he’s put in. I truly believe euthanasia is the best choice for both of you.”

You shake your head. Absolutely not!

John sighs quietly. “We will sedate him again. Sekido will be asleep when it happens so he’s not going to feel anything. He’ll drift off to sleep, and then he’ll be gone. He won’t be afraid, and he won’t feel the cut. He won’t ever know what happened.”

“No!” You couldn’t believe he was suggesting such a thing! Kill Sekido? That was not an option- not ever! John looks at you with pity in his face. Confusion. Maybe a little admiration.

“I don’t mean to be dramatic, but if he attacks again, there is no guarantee you’ll be getting up from it. This demon was conditioned for one thing and one thing only; he is trained to attack with little discrimination. He will kill you. Let Sekido go, and put your kindness towards another demon that needs your help- one that hasn’t lived in such violence. One that isn’t so dangerous.” “But I don’t want another demon,” you protest. You’d never wanted a demon before in your entire life, but Sekido was yours now. You wouldn’t have anyone else. “I promised him…”

“I understand,” John spoke gently. “I really do, but please consider my advice. Sekido is unpredictable and very violent. You cannot control a demon like this except through force- and you don’t seem the type to do that.” “He cannot be trusted,” John finished with finality. “Ever.” You fall silent. He was right, in a way- you wouldn’t harm Sekido regardless of what he did. You couldn’t even find it in you to fault him for the stitches that made your forearm itch. But he was also wrong about your demon. Sekido had shown that he could cooperate, albeit when it suited him, with little resistance except some rude words. He’d shown the ability to care, briefly, when he kept your arm from bleeding out with his own rags. He wouldn’t have done that if he’d meant to kill or if he had no impulse control. Right? “If he attacks me, let that be between him and me,” you reply firmly. “I did not go through all this just so you could kill my demon!”

John begins to speak, but you cut him off with a dismissive wave of your hand. “He’s a living being, not a broken tool. It’s not his fault what he’s been through,” you argue passionately, anger seeping into your words. “I know it won’t be easy. I… I am shocked that this is his past, but I didn’t expect helping him to be easy! Sekido deserves to know what a life of peace is like. He needs to know what it is for someone to care about him, and I want to give him that- nobody else is going to give him that chance!” John stares at you with disbelief and frustration. “You don’t understand what he’s capable of,” he insists, his voice raising slightly.

You shake your head, refusing to relent. “Maybe I don’t fully understand, but I’m willing to try. That's more than anyone ever has for him.” The silence stretches between you, heavy with tension. You can see John grappling with your words, his mind racing. “You’re taking a huge risk,” he finally says, his tone softening just a bit. “You could be killed.” “I’m aware of the risks,” you reply, your voice steady. “But sitting back and doing nothing isn’t an option. Living in fear isn’t a life at all. Sekido deserves a chance, just like anyone else.” Part of you realizes that John simply doesn't want to see you hurt, and you can appreciate that. But you can take care of yourself, you think, and this is your decision to make.

John stares at you with a bewildered look, then relents with an exasperated sigh. “Nothing’s going to change your mind, huh? Alright… I know when I’ve been beat. Do you really believe you can help a demon as dangerous as this?” he asks softly. “I believe I’m the only one who will try,” you repeat. You couldn’t understand why anyone would treat a demon like this- people gave more of a chance to violent dogs! “Like I said, if he tries to hurt me again then let that be between me and him. However,” you hesitate, “if… if he hurts someone else while in my care, then I’ll bring him in.” ‘For euthanasia’, was the end you didn’t want to add. There was no reason to anyway- it was obvious what you had meant. You hoped John would accept the compromise. He’s quiet, contemplative for a long minute and just when you think he’ll refuse, he speaks.

“I’ll agree to that,” he finally said. “But, considering the unconventional circumstances and because we don’t usually do this, I will provide a liability form for you to sign that will release this establishment and its employees of all responsibility should you be harmed by this demon. If you want to take Sekido home, then signing is mandatory.” You respond with a subtle nod, easily picking up the blatant effort to escape a looming lawsuit as the vet exits the room. If something happened, you really would be on your own. There would be no recourse, nobody to turn to or blame but yourself. John returns several minutes later with a stack of papers that he slides in front of you. You hesitate only a moment, then lower your hand to the signature lines. The pen you use to bind yourself to your demon is filled with dark ink that puddles and smudges into the creases of paper. The vet gives you a quiet nod as he takes the form and he taps them on the desk, forcing them into unity. “We will need to keep Sekido in our care for the next 24 hours so we can continue to monitor his condition, but he should be waking up soon, if you’d like to see him?” A whole day? With the state he arrived in, you weren’t surprised, but still… you were glad it was your weekend away from work. God, what were you gonna do about work? You… you had paid sick days still, right? Yeah. You’d use those to get Sekido settled in a bit before returning to your 9-5. “Where is he?” John leads you to the room where Sekido is recovering and motions for you to go inside before leaving. You open the steel door slowly. Quietly. Unsure of how Sekido might react. He lies on a white cot with his eyes closed and his signature frown on his face. There are IV’s connected to his arm, pumping him full of a clear liquid. The room is quiet, except for the sounds of the heart monitor and the demon’s soft breathing. Despite his usual furrowed brows, he looks almost relaxed. He occasionally makes a noise in his sleep that you can’t decide whether it’s a growl or a snore. Though the vet had warned you about shaving Sekido’s hair, it was odd to see him with such short locks. Only about an inch had been left- still filthy with dandruff and muck, twigs and blood, but no longer weighing on his head in thick drapes of clumped hair. As you sit in the chair beside him, you can see a little of the tattoo that had been mentioned. ‘HAN-2S…’ It looked like there was more, but it was hidden around the other side of his neck. You wondered what those letters and numbers meant, whether it was just to label him like a barcode. You wonder if his previous owners used the name Sekido gave you, or if they called him by that tattoo. Again, you think it's better you don’t know, though you can't help but ponder what stories and pain lie beneath that ink. However, deep down, you know that delving into his past might only lead to more questions, and you wouldn't ask him to relive the memories anyway. When you gingerly reach to brush a bit of cut hair off his forehead, he stirs.

Sekido’s eyes slowly open and squint groggily against the light. Then, he groans as his sight lands on you. “... What… do you want?” the demon scowls slowly, obviously fighting against the drugs he’d been given. You don’t know what he’s asking. You want him safe. And healthy. And alive. His well-being has become your top priority overnight. You're willing to do whatever is necessary to ensure that he recovers- no matter the challenges. Even if it means facing that scowl every single day. He scoffs at your confused look, takes a breath. “Nobody is nice to demons just because,” he says. Can’t believe you’re still there- that you hadn’t left him at the first opportunity. “Nobody cares about things like me. Not unless they want something- so what the fuck do you want?” “Nothing,” you reply, ignoring his aggressive tone. “I want nothing. Just for you to heal.”

Sekido stares at you bitterly. Doesn’t believe you for even a second in his deep-rooted mistrust of humanity. Is afraid to consider that you might be telling the truth. His voice, gruff and menacing, warns, “I’ll hurt you,” in a blend of caution and threat, but you’ll stand firm either way. Even if it is a threat you can’t bring yourself to be afraid of him anymore. Somehow… despite John’s insistence about the danger he brings, you don’t really believe that Sekido will hurt you again. The demon looks away from you with a sigh of weary resignation as he shakes his head, his lips thin and vision distant. He pulls the heavy hospital blanket up his chest, knuckles pale with the strength that he grips that poor blanket.

“You can't save me,” the words leave his lips in gravelly despair as closes his eyes, wanting to ignore your obnoxious presence while he wonders why you won’t just leave him alone.“I want to try, ” you tell him. Won’t accept his words as truth. Won’t accept that he believes redemption of any kind is beyond his reach. “I'm gonna try.” Sekido’s eyes snap open and he turns to you with another appraising glare. Then, finally, his lips tug slightly up with a snorted half-laugh. “... Then you are a fool,” Sekido spat. “Yeah, maybe,” you agree quietly. You don’t know what else to say to that. What does one even say to that? How do you comfort a man who believes he’s beyond saving? How do you convince someone they deserve to be saved? Sekido closes his eyes again, falling silent. You might’ve thought he was asleep again except for his ragged breaths. “I’ll, uh… I’ll let you get some rest, okay?” you mutter awkwardly. You don’t expect a response from the grumpy demon- didn’t wait for one. Didn’t want to hear him bark more disdain at you. So you stand and leave him to his devices. It didn’t make his lack of response any less disappointing, but you weren’t sure what you wanted him to say anyway. You don’t see Sekido watching you as you leave, an amused smirk tugging his lips.

-------- ≪ °✾° ≫ --------

You return for him the next morning, interrupted from your frantic attempts to get your home at least partially company-worthy in the short hours you had since leaving the infirmary. You still can’t believe all the chaos has happened, but the aching punctures in your arm leave little room for doubt- throbbing reminders of the harrowing night. Sekido is awake when you arrive, glaring at anyone who walks past his half-curtained glass doors as if the demon expects them to harass him at any second. The flicker of aggression in his eyes and clenched fists, a dare for anyone to cross him, contrasts with his physical condition. One of his fangs poke his bottom lip so hard it draws blood, like tiny ruby orbs on his skin. If you did not know his strength, you could’ve mistaken his sickly body as harmless. Frail. His gaze does not soften when it sees you, unyielding in his defiance even as you draw the curtains fully to give the room its privacy.

You had come as soon as you’d received Angela’s call that Sekido had nearly been medically cleared. Obeying traffic laws this time, you made your way to the vet with a nervous heart. Some part of you was… excited, almost. It’s been a long time since you’ve had a housemate. Once they finish their checklist of procedures, Sekido would be discharged from the hospital and entrusted to your care. Into your home.

You take a deep breath as you pull into the parking lot, wondering if he will ever look at you with anything but contempt. Your heart aches for the wounded man who believes nobody could ever want to help him without a hidden agenda. You hope that in time, perhaps Sekido will come to accept you and that you two will become friends. Has he ever had friends, the thought crosses your mind before it can be stopped. You shake your head, knowing that Sekido has likely never had someone he can count on. Not anytime recently, at least. You resolve to be that person for him. It's going to take time. You know it’s going to take time- a lot of effort, of compromise, but you’re going to break through the spiny, angry walls he’s built around himself, whether the cantankerous demon appreciates it or not.

A nurse quietly arrives to check your demon one last time, his hands gingerly lifting the bandages on his wounds. Sekido flinches slightly, his body and limbs tensing… then he hisses, a low and menacing sound. You see the nurse try not to jump and shift in your seat, unsure what to do. Should you reach out? Talk to him? Reassure your demon that nobody is going to hurt him? Would that make him more upset?

You wonder what Sekido might have been like had the world not been so cruel- solemnly accept that you’ll never know as he snaps defensively when the nurse accidentally prods a little too hard.

The nurse quickly rewraps Sekido’s arm and leaves without a word, though you see the shudder in his shoulders as he closes the door behind him. A sigh of relief that he no longer had to deal with a dangerous, irritable, unpredictable creature like Sekido. Now, the demon watches you. His silence is deafening, and you can’t help but wonder what thoughts swirl in his mind as he stares, stone-cold with barely kept irritation. “So…this is it, huh?” You ask, clearing your throat. Your nervousness is unhidden in the way your voice wobbles, fracturing the already uncomfortable silence. “Time to go home…”

The weight behind those words hangs in the air as Sekido studies you for what seems like an eternity. Like he hasn’t processed your words. Like you’ve grown another head.

“What?” he chokes, but tries to hide it with another grumble, “You…?” “You’re coming home with me, remember? I’m, uh… adopting you,” you manage to stammer under the strength of his disbelief, your voice wilting. “I already signed the papers…”

Sekido’s eyes widen in shock, his mouth opening and closing wordlessly in his attempts to even grasp the concept. You were actually taking him home? A hint of vulnerability seeps through his steely composure, a mix of confusion and disbelief- then anger, in the crimson that colored his narrow eyes. “Are you out of your mind?” he snarls, his voice dangerously low. His hands curled into fists again. The room seems to shrink around you as tension thickens the air, his piercing gaze locking onto you with an emotion you can’t quite put a name on. The silence hangs heavy, your words lost in the seething glare of a demon that reads like a warning. You say nothing. You had to be at least a little out of your mind. But you wouldn’t back down. No matter what the demon said. “Adopting,” Sekido repeats slowly, like he’s tasting the word. His lips curl over his fangs with disgust. “Legally, yes,” you nod. Honestly, you weren’t a fan of the process either, or the idea of ‘owning’ someone so human. But, whatever it takes, right? His reaction to the news strikes you as ice-cold despite the fiery temper in him. You almost smile at the private joke. Then, he speaks. “Are you inviting me to your home? Knowing that I’ll hurt you?” he questions. Scoffs. You reach instinctively to pat his shoulder, reassure him that, “You won’t hurt me.” From whom were you comforting him? Himself? His past? You? You aren’t sure. “I know you won’t.” “You know nothing,” he hisses bitterly, punctuating his words by swatting your hand away. You pull your hand back, rubbing it lightly to soothe the sting. Sekido staunchly avoids looking at you, glares out the open windows. A soft breeze blows against white curtains- they are too pure in their color, in your opinion. Like the very material had been bleached of its soul. For a moment, all that’s heard is the wind and cheerful chirping of house sparrows as they flit around outside. “Do you think that will change my mind?” you ask, softly breaking the silence. “I’ve made my decision.”

“It’s a stupid decision,” Sekido argues. Part of you is almost touched that he seems so concerned for your safety. The other part frowns that he thinks of himself as a threat. “But it’s made,” you reply easily. He says nothing after that, just snorts in disbelief as you both stand your grounds- like two warriors on the opposing sides of a battlefield. No further words are spoken, but the conversation continues in the silence, like the room itself is waiting for resolution. The sparrows continue to sing their songs, oblivious to the standoff inside the building. Finally, there is the smallest, reluctant bow of Sekido’s head, and you feel the tension easing from your shoulders. You can’t do this without him, even if he doesn’t really have a choice- no matter how much you wanted to pretend otherwise. An hour later, the final test results come back and Sekido is officially released from the hospital. With the blood poisoning dealt with, the demon should recover fully and quickly, the vet assured you as he hands another stack of papers to you. An assistant wheels over a chair, but Sekido refuses it, staggering to his feet as you finish paying the final bills at the front counter. Even ill as he is, he refused to show weakness. What he perceived as weakness. What he was taught is frailty, failure, feebleness, punishable by whips and starvation and fear.

The doctors try to reach out to steady him as he stumbles, but he shakes off their help with another warning growl. They don’t bother attempting it again. Sekido moves slowly and deliberately, taking each step with careful rigidness. His bare toes stretch out to maintain his wobbly balance with every stride. As he catches sight of cloud-muffled daylight at the end of the hall, it seems like he quickens his pace. You don’t try to slow him, despite pointed, almost judgemental looks from the staff. You want out of the hospital too. Finally Sekido reaches the glass doors and stops.

He does not look back, but waits at the edge of the spotless black carpet that serves as a doormat, his fingers twitching in his desire to simply grab the handle and escape.

No one stops the two of you as you open the door for him, because you know he won’t leave the building himself without permission, like a dog trained to wait at the entryways of a house. It’s easy to locate your vehicle, sparkling clean as it is. That aside, it’s the only car in the lot that isn’t owned by employees of the hospital.

Sekido walks just ahead of you, stumbles twice and then leans on the back doors as his chest shudders.

“No,” you say carefully and point to the passenger seat. “You can sit up there, Sekido. Next to me.”

And again he gives you an incredulous look, like he can’t comprehend the thought. With your gentle urging, he grasps the door handle, then cautiously opens it with a flick of his pointed ear- alert for any sound that might indicate you’ve changed your mind. That you’ve tricked him.

You wait for him to climb in before taking the driver's seat.

The ride home is uncomfortably silent, but you don’t try to hold a conversation either- too lost in your own thoughts and too nervous to attempt to quell your demon’s rigid posture. He’s so stiff one might think he were a statue, except for the radar-like swivel of his ears that takes in every sudden noise with practiced precision. It would be very cute, except that you know it’s a habit he must have obtained in defense- to protect himself from further harassment at the hands of his old masters.

A passer-by's questioning glance is enough to fuel Sekido’s ire. The old woman stares fixedly out of her window and narrows her eyes at the man beside you. It's as if she knows he doesn't belong there, Sekido thinks. As if it's even her business. A rumble builds in the demon’s throat, his fangs piercing his lip once more. When the passenger of another car, a young child, makes mocking motions towards the demon, Sekido snarls, forcefully striking the window. You jump in surprise, your hands tightening on the wheel instinctively. “Sekido!” The exclamation bursts from you, unintentionally loud, spooking the demon from his own thoughts. His long ears flatten against his head, his crimson eyes briefly meeting yours before averting his gaze, accompanied with a subdued growl that slips through his bared teeth. Like he’s warning you away. Like he expects you to hit him. Like you’re one of those horrid people who beat him for misbehaving. You take a breath to steady yourself- remind yourself that you agreed to this, to the commitment, to supporting him, and to the challenges you know he comes with and the challenges sure to surprise you, and you lower your voice to a more soothing tone. “Hey,” you start uncomfortably in an attempt to maintain the barely noticeable trust you have with your demon, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to shout. You startled me, is all.” You offer a small, reassuring smile as you slow to a red light. You hope he understands. His gaze meets yours again, slightly less hard, and then he turns to watch the scenery fly past again.

Luckily the streets are pretty empty aside from that and those that drive ahead of you mind their business enough to not taunt the traumatized demon in your car, saving you from whatever other outburst the demon might unleash if provoked again. As you pull into your driveway, the car comes to a gentle stop. Your small, one-bedroom apartment awaits. It may not be extravagant, but it's home. The front lawn is neatly mowed, and the plants in the garden beds beneath your windows flourish in still-living shades of green. Sekido observes it all with a quick glance. If he has any grievances, he keeps them to himself - maybe out of reluctance, maybe out of deeply hidden gratitude. Anything is better than before. “Well… we’re here,” you say. You can see your neighbor across the street peeking through their curtains to peer at what’s going on, the nosy bastards they are. You roll your eyes once you’re turned away from them. At least they make a good casserole during the holidays. You just hope they won’t try to come over with unwanted ‘friendly advice’ on how to deal with your demon like they had with your wilting plants. Somehow you knew their advice wouldn’t be as kind to Sekido. You fumble your keys as you open your front door. Only then, just as you’re about to lock the car, do you realize that Sekido hasn’t left the vehicle. He hasn’t even unbuckled himself. He’s sitting there, cloudy sunlight on clean leather seats, staring at the house like he doesn’t believe he’s even here. This is a house, he thinks, not a shed, or a cage, or an underground garage. A real house, where people live and don’t dread seeing its form on the horizon. A house where he, apparently, will be permitted to live, inside like a.. Like a person and not a simple slave-tool of violence. He can hardly believe it, swallows rough against his dry throat. “Sekido?” You call gently. “C’mon, it looks like it’s gonna rain.” He could smell it in the air, the sharp dampness of a summer storm. Tepid wind rustles the trees in your yard, sending dry leaves across the street. Sekido opens the passenger door, just a couple inches, then pushes it wide. His bare feet tentatively touch rough cement as he exits the vehicle. When the doors snap closed again, he flinches at the sound. Your demon follows you slowly, as if fearing you might just laugh and throw him in the backyard to take shelter under an old, rusty kennel like the men who trained him had. He had refused to bow that low- had sat with his knees under him and his hands in his lap, with eyes closed against biting, frosty rain and wind that chilled him to the bone, leaving a muddy puddle under his weight. The men had found no amusement in his defiance- abusing him with rods of steel as if they thought they could beat the spirit from him like the blood that thickened the murk. But, you aren’t those people and though he does not trust you, he reluctantly steps onto your wooden floors. Your home is… lived-in, he notices as he glances around your belongings. Stray books and items litter the bookshelves and coffee table, alongside a succulent or two. It needs cleaned, Sekido thinks. You smile apologetically, like you know what is going through his mind. Like you’re embarrassed. “I wasn’t expecting guests,” you rub the back of your neck with a sheepish look, moving a group of magazines into a neat stack. “I’ll be right back, okay? Feel free to explore.” You leave the room to quickly finish cleaning up the dishes in the kitchen- a process you’d been in the middle of when the hospital called. Sekido says nothing, but continues to take in his surroundings. It’s not a bad house, he admits to himself.

Sunlight filters through the large window, casting a warm glow over the room. A faint scent of the coffee you’d been preparing that morning lingers in the air, creating a sense of comfort and homeliness. Your walls are adorned with colorful paintings and photographs, each telling a story of its own. Sekido’s eyes linger on family photos of moments now frozen in time. The creativity and warmth that fills the space makes it feel inviting despite the slightly cluttered appearance. Sekido's gaze wanders to a worn-out armchair in the corner, where you have probably spent countless hours reading and relaxing. It's a cozy little nook in an otherwise chaotic room. With a slight nod of approval that you don’t see in the other room, he finally breaks his silence. “Hmph.” Your home may not be perfect, but it has a charm that is uniquely yours. You return quickly, within just a couple minutes, but Sekido stands right where you’d left him, looking about uneasily. You take a hesitant step forward. “Sorry, I didn’t have quite enough time to finish up the kitchen before I left,” you apologize. “I didn’t want anything to start going rancid, you know?” Not for the first time that day, he gives you a perplexed look. “Humans don’t apologize to demons,” he mutters, like he’s scolding you on what’s right and wrong. “We aren’t worthy of it.” The phrase makes you wince- a horrid reminder that despite what you do know of Sekido’s past, you really know nothing at all. And you definitely aren’t sure how you’re supposed to fix him. “You are to me.” Again, he freezes, grunts as he glares at the wall. Anywhere he didn’t have to meet your gaze. But… Maybe you aren’t supposed to ‘fix’ someone like him at all. Maybe it would be good enough, right now, simply to teach him how to be alive. Is he hungry, you ponder? You don’t bother asking. You chastise yourself for even thinking it was a good question- the demon looks half starved! Instead you apologize, again, quietly- awkwardly. Your inelegance is enough to have him smirking behind your back, amused as you fumble words and thoughts. “You can sit if you want,” you tell him again, hoping he’ll take a seat on the sofa, or armchair. He grunts. Doesn’t make any attempt to move. You make your way to the kitchen to cut a small ribeye steak you’d planned on eating yourself into strips and small, easy-to-chew cubes. That should… this should be fine, right? All sources you’d searched said raw meat was just fine for demons. Not that you trusted the authors to have the best in mind for them. You hesitate, then take half the meat out and put that in another bowl before covering it and placing it back in the refrigerator. The last thing you needed was the demon vomiting again, you shudder as you stride into the living room, ignoring his subtle sniffing of the air, and the wetness shining on the corner of his mouth.

Sekido eyes you suspiciously as you hold the bowl out to him- refusing to put it on the ground like he’s some sort of animal. This is a trap. It has to be, he reasoned. He’s done nothing to earn the food, so you must be trying to trick him. But… you hold that bowl of meat tantalizingly close- enough that his pupils dilate at the smell of it and his body tries to lurch forward despite his wishes. The demon takes a rigid step back when you push your arm further towards him as his fingers twitch with desire to grab at the promise of the first bit of food he’s had in weeks. Drool finally trickles down one corner of his mouth and he shakes his head viciously. “Take it,” you order him in the unwillingness to even entertain the idea that Sekido wasn’t allowed to eat if he wished, and suddenly he couldn’t even pretend to have self-control enough to stop himself. The meat was gone from the bowl, shoveled into his mouth like a starving dog. He swallows without bothering to chew before you can even say a word, once, twice, hard enough that he's nearly choking on the fat, and then it’s over and his ears are pinned back and his eyes dart around with feverish intensity as if you’re going to punish him- even as his tongue licks the grease from the bowl. You can’t take the food from him. He won’t let you. Not when it’s the first thing he’s eaten in weeks. Not when he can feel the miniscule amount of protein and iron already in his system. Not when it takes his aches away so quickly. To his shock, you don’t do anything he expects you to. You don’t shout or curse or grab a stick to hit him with. In fact, you slowly back away and give the demon space while he glares at you with a practiced rage meant to hide his fear. His shoulders are tense, spine like a spring to recoil at the slightest sign of danger, but after what seems like another eternity, his gaze drops, and your own back relaxes. His grip on the bowl tightens. You decide to maintain your calm demeanor, but the decision seems to unsettle him more than any visible irritation would. He does not ease his grip on the bowl, staring at you. “Do you want more?” You ask gently. He doesn’t answer, meeting the kind gesture with narrowed eyes. You’re offering him more food? He hadn’t even earned the first bowl. Surely, you’re tricking him, he thinks again. But… “Yes,” he grumbles quietly, “Master.” Relinquishes his grip on the bowl as he hands it back with quivering hands. The title makes you flinch, stings like a bitter wound, and you nearly drop the blood-streaked bowl as a deep frown pulls at your lips. It’s another awful reminder of the reality of your roles- of the role's society wanted to force. Sekido, sensing your inner turmoil, reacts by flattening his ears once more. Displeased. He had displeased you. Was that not what he was to call his owner? That is what he had been forced to call all owners before you. “No,” you disagree gently, holding firm at his bewildered expression. “Listen, Sekido. You don’t need to call me that. My name is fine, or whatever else you want. Just… not ‘master’ or ‘owner’ or anything else that makes it sound like you’re beneath me.” “You are my owner,” he snarls again, insisting as if acknowledging otherwise would shake him to his core. Like he’s trying to educate you on how to treat a demon. “I do not own you, Sekido,” you explain carefully. Except legally, you didn’t say, didn’t think it needed to be… You think of that legality as only something society forced. Wouldn’t have even signed the papers except that it was necessary. “We’re equals, okay? You’re the master of yourself. I want you to make decisions for yourself and do things because you want to, not because you think it would make me happy, do you understand?” And again, he looks at you like you’ve grown another head, and you briefly wonder if maybe you’re being a little too honest. But… somehow, you think he might appreciate it- eventually. Sekido doesn’t seem to like sugarcoating things. You just hope you don’t sound too corny.

#demon slayer #arkwrites #sekido #pet au #sekido pet au #demon slayer pet au #hantengu #hantengu clones #kimestu no yaiba #kny pet au

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