#I just want at least a half hour of silence alone

[thargelalia]

Comrade Red Hood

jason todd x fem!reader

patriarchy sucks, thankfully your doting nerdy boyfriend is there to show you support

-> 3k words

-> fluff, hurt/comfort, tiniest bit suggestive

-> warnings: talks of v!olence and crime (c'mon, guys, it's Gotham); mansplaining (not by Jason); reader is a little mean, but she's only human; Jason is a serial kisser and we love that for him

“Are you upset?” 

“Yes.” 

“…is it something I did?” 

“Not everything’s about you.”

Jason’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline as he lets out a low whistle. “Damn. I thought I was supposed to be the broody one here.”

“Getting a taste of your own medicine sometimes is good.”

Silence.

“Sure you’re not mad at me?”

“I’m beginning to.” You let out a deep frustrated sigh, massaging your temples in a futile attempt to stop the incessant throbbing headache. “What do you want, Jason?” 

“I was just—is there anything I can do for you?” He asks, shifting weight between his legs. “You seemed a bit off over the phone earlier, so I decided to drop by.”

“I just want to be alone.” You sound less passive aggressive this time as exhaustion seeps into your words. ”My head is killing me right now, but I just had an aspirin. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay. I’ll be in the living room if you need me.” Since it’s dark and your eyes are glued to the ceiling, you’re unable to take in the dejected look on his face. 

Seeing you’ve got no objections — he kind of hoped you’d change your mind and ask for cuddles — Jason leaves the room wordlessly. It’s almost like he vanishes into thin air. A well-known skill amongst all bat-family members.

Even so, he’s surprisingly light on his feet for a big guy. But then again, we’re talking about a walking deadly weapon. A vicious vigilante. The prince of Gotham. Red Hood.

Or at least that’s what he usually is when he’s not sulking in the living room for being a victim of his girlfriend’s sour mood. 

Aside from the sound of a car or two passing by down below, and police sirens echoing distantly on occasion, your place is engulfed in a comfortable silence — this a relatively quiet neighborhood. Moonlight filters through your half-open curtains, a soft welcoming breeze swaying them gently to the side. 

At some point, your eyes flutter open. You don’t even remember falling asleep. There’s a dryness to your throat, prompting you to move around and reach for a slim water bottle on the nightstand. Next to it, the digital clock reads 2:17 AM. 

A five hour nap. Nice. 

Fortunately, the pounding inside your head has subsided.

Tsking in disappointment, seeing the bottle is empty, you detangle your legs from the sheets, begrudgingly getting up and dragging yourself to the kitchen. 

The lights in the living room are still on, making your eyes squint when you approach the entrance. You’re confused to discover Jason still lounging on the couch with a book in his hands, legs spread deliciously wide. One of his feet is propped against the edge of the coffee table.

“Thought you were still out on patrol.” 

He looks up, and blinks, not expecting to see you up. “Just got back, actually. About fifteen minutes ago or so, I think.”

You hum in response and take a moment to really observe him. 

His hair is still indeed damp as it falls over his forehead. He’s also shirtless, only dressed in gray sweatpants. Took him quite a long time to feel comfortable enough to show skin like this around you. Likewise, despite the smile that your reassurances bring to his face whenever you thank him for ‘blessing your eyes with such a delectable sight’, sometimes he still gets antsy if they linger too long on his scars. So, you try to respect his limits while also making sure he knows he’s incredible and beautiful. 

There are also beads of sweat accumulated on his bare chest and neck. Despite having just showered, his body is still overheated from Red Hood’s intense activities, you notice. 

No injuries in sight tonight, thank goodness. But if there were, though, he probably wouldn’t be here. He’d still rather agonize in pain alone in his apartment than letting his medical resident girlfriend tend to him. You’re still trying to ingrain into his stubborn mind that his health will never be a disturbance to you. He will never be a disturbance to you.

Hm, though he kinda was a little bit earlier before. However, that wasn’t his fault. Nor yours, for that matter.

As if on cue, his question breaks you out of your reverie.

“Feeling better?” You nod in affirmation and he gives a sweet smile. “Good. You should eat, baby. I got you something on my way back. It’s in the kitchen.”

You mirror his smile and resume your steps to the kitchen where there’s a white medium-sized paper bag sitting on the counter. 

Dismantling crime and wreaking havoc around Gotham, just to later on pick up food to appease his moody girlfriend back home. 

Isn’t that so cute? 

After drinking your fill of cool water, you grab the food bag, a plate – to avoid crumbs dirtying the floor – and return to the living room to eat in Jason’s company. He’s still engrossed in his book. Or rather, yours. Your small library is now his, but so is his yours. It’s an unspoken agreement.

“I didn’t know Mr. Abdul’s place stays open so late.” You say thoughtfully, munching on a falafel. Jason also got you a fattoush salad, hummus, and some pita bread. Yummy. 

You’re sitting on opposite ends of the couch, legs on a pillow in his lap, while his forearms rests on top of them. He’s hunched forward in concentration on the pages in front of him.

“It doesn’t.” Without looking, Jason steals one falafel from the bag and pops it into his mouth. “I broke into his kitchen.“

You choke on a piece of pita bread. “What the f-”

“Relax. I left the money on the counter.” 

“Are you fucking kidding me??” He talks about it so casually. Almost like he’s done this before. “Wait. So, the cookies from Elena’s last time…”

“Well, that one’s obvious.” Successfully blocking a pillow chucked at his face, he rushes to defend himself, “BUT I never forget to pay, so technically I’m not stealing! Only billionaires are harmed here, I swear.”

You both know which particular billionaire he has in mind.

“Right. Keep telling yourself that, Robin. Hood.” You scoff, picking up the fattoush salad box, opening its lid and picking through vegetables with a plastic fork. Jason’s mouth opens in surprise. “Pun intended, by the way.” 

“Whatever.” He huffs with an eye roll, trying to conceal his amusement. To make a point, he raises the open book to his face and blocks your view of him, ignoring you completely. 

As you silently chew on radishes and lettuce, you take a minute to inspect what he’s reading. It’s a considerably thick book. Zeroing in the letters of the cover, your eyes widen in shock as you swallow. 

“Jason, is that—you’re reading The Capital?”

“Yeah, why?” He questions back, nonchalantly, lowering the book just past his eyes.  “You think I only read fiction?” 

“I guess… but I only asked because I think it’s an odd choice of reading given your night.” You explain, gathering the empty food containers, placing them inside the paper bag and setting it aside on the coffee table. “Aren’t you supposed to be tired?” 

“Of fighting against oppressive systems? Absolutely.” He quips, a playful smirk on his face. “This guy just gets me, you know?” 

Seeing the unimpressed look on your face, his smile dies down and he places the book down on the armrest. “I got an extra adrenaline rush while chasing Penguin’s goons this time. There were dozens of them ‘cause he was closing an important arms deal at a warehouse tonight.. Remember that time when we were watching a documentary about wolves, and it was showing how packs tend to slaughter entire flocks of sheep when they’re unable to escape from a confined space?”

“Is that your way of telling me you were in a… kill frenzy?” You swallow hard, trying not to sound too alarmed, but the distant look in his eyes accompanied by his eerie tone and word choice is unsettling. Even though you're well aware he doesn’t pose a danger to you.

Jason seldom shares the details about his gruesome Red Hood business with you. One, because he knows you already see too much violent shit while working at the hospital. 

Two, he knows you worry about his safety. 

Three, there’s also the fact that he’d like to keep a sense of normalcy at home. 

Four, and most importantly, he believes it’s best if you don’t access his dark side, but sometimes – like right now – he’s unable to conceal it. At the end of the day, he’s only someone fighting their shadows like any other. 

Although, his are evidently a bit more obscure and jarring. 

There’s a pregnant pause before he finally breaks out of his trance with a shake of his head. Taking in your tense posture and concerned face, he softens his demeanor, reaching for one of your hands. One, two, three kisses delivered to the tip of your fingers and he’s pulling you to sit straddling his legs. Calloused palms start rubbing the top of your thighs in reassurance back and forth. 

“Don’t worry, baby. I didn’t shoot to kill..uh, mostly.” There’s no way of telling if he’s being sincere, and, frankly, you’d rather not think about this. As usual, he’s attuned to your senses, and tries to lighten the conversation up. “Anyways, I was still feeling charged when I got back. That’s why I picked one of your brainy books to help me wind down. Since your Sociology shelf was right in my line of sight, I decided to give it a try… Oh, I just remembered I forgot to bring you my French copy of Madame Bovary again.” 

“Hm, it’s fine. I’ll borrow it next time I’m at your place. But, back to my books. Why do I feel like this isn’t a first time thing? I did find some of my Sociology books misplaced a couple of weeks ago,” you complain. “Glad you’re having fun tackling dialectical materialism as a post-vigilante workout, but please make sure you put my books in order once you’re done.” 

“So bossy.” He playfully tuts, adding a nip to your shoulder. Then you feel his lips trace a slow path up to your neck, leaving a slow deliberate kiss there. “And so pretty, too.”

He smiles mischievously, lips still attached to your skin, as you shudder. 

Devious bastard.

Crossing your arms, you try not to blush and keep your voice steady. “I mean it, Jason.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll mind your precious organization.” He follows his promise with a chaste kiss, this time to your lips. “But seriously, you do look pretty.” 

“What, out of a sudden?” You raise your eyebrows in amusement. 

Jason prides himself in being a skillful liar. It often comes in handy. 

But he most definitely is not the type to give empty compliments. 

Especially not to the most precious person of his life. 

And you’re aware of that. His eyes don’t lie.

There’s that deep candid warmth swirling within those mesmerizing irises that just captures you whole. They remind you of the ocean, colors of a fine line between blue and green, like teal. Sometimes calm and serene, sometimes agitated and raging. 

One thing is sure. You’re the only person who gets to soak into the tranquil waters hidden amidst the windows of his soul. 

Because you’re the only one capable of bringing them out. 

“Nah, I always think that when I see your face.” Comes his reply.

At that, more kisses ensue. Obviously.

First one is yours, molding your lips to his in an instant as you try to return his incessant devotion with eagerness. He wastes no time in reciprocating, mouth slightly parting to welcome your tongue inside. It makes your head fuzzy all over. Every single fucking time. This type of intimacy took almost as long to construct as the display of his body. You’re never taking his trust for granted. Never. Soon enough, Jason discovered himself to be a great fan of kissing. You. He’s done it before with other people, sure, but it didn’t make him feel like this. Yearn like this. As if he depended on it to survive. And he might as well do. Your fingers find their way to his scalp, tangling in silky locks and pulling while trapping his lower lip between your teeth, eliciting a soft groan from him. As a result, he grips your hips harder, drawing you impossibly closer. The heat from his bare muscular chest is scorching, almost too much to bear as it seeps through your shirt – his shirt. 

You two only break apart because he decides to now trail his lips downward, leaving you panting, eyes sealed shut in pleasure, as he works his mouth across every other available patch of your skin. From jaw to neck, and shoulder. And back up.

This time his ministrations are sweeter and more tender, making you melt completely into his embrace. 

Finally sated, after delivering a last kiss behind your ear, he whispers softly and a little breathless, “Wanna share now why you almost bit my head off a few hours ago, hm?” 

Watching your face fall when he pulls back, his heart equally drops, causing him to backtrack, “S’okay, baby. You don’t have to tell me. I’m sorry.”

You exhale shakily, glancing down to fiddle with the hems of your – his – shirt. A hand cups your cheek, and tilts your head upwards carefully, thumb brushing the soft skin back and forth. Molten blue-green irises coaxing you to relax like the gentle sway of the sea. Telling he’s trusty and willing to listen.

“No, it’s just… ugh…” He waits patiently as you gather your thoughts. “I had to deal with one of my stupid professors mansplaining to me during my presentation today. A subject that I’ve been studying for years now. I knew what I was talking about and he acted as if I didn’t, saying that I didn’t use the concepts correctly like I was a child. Some of my colleagues told me I shouldn’t take his words personally, but it fucking sucked. Still does. I hate it when people, especially men, undermine my intelligence. I just felt so frustrated, I went to the bathroom and cried when the presentation ended. And to top it off, I got a miserable headache on the way home. So yeah, that’s why I was in such a shitty mood tonight. I’m sorry I took it out on you…” 

While describing what happened and venting about your feelings, you barely registered the way his arms tensed around you or how a muscle in his jaw ticked. There’s really no mistaking the look on his face now. The dark stormy blue that has replaced the soothing sea green. “Jason, no. Promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”

“He upset you.” Your boyfriend states in a clipped tone. “He made you cry.” 

“No matter how tempting, you can’t just fuck up every single guy that gets on my nerves.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Jace.” You beg, exasperated. “Please. That’s not what I need right now, okay? He was being an asshole, yes, but the academy, and the whole world, is crowded with them unfortunately. Most of the time, I can handle it just fine. But, today was different. I’ve been preparing for my presentation for days, so he caught me by surprise with his arrogance and my anxiety kinda escalated, I guess. What I mean is I didn’t tell you this because I wanted you to avenge me. I just want to be understood. Can’t you do that for me?” The sight of tears filling your wide eyes dilute his outrage instantly. You’re engulfed in a tight comforting hug.

“Of course, baby. I’ll never feel the same as you ‘cause I’m not a woman, but you must know I’m here for you and I’m sorry you had to deal with this.” He offers, sympathetically, before something darker twists his features again. “I won’t lie to you, though. It’d be easy for me to rip that fucking bastard’s tongue—”

“Jason.”

“—and feed it to his mouth until he chokes—”

“Jason.” 

He puts a finger to your mouth to silence you, just to pull back immediately before it gets bitten off.

“—but I won’t do that.” Not today at least, he keeps this last part to himself. “My point is a brilliant woman like you will always be a threat to insecure fuckers like him. Bet he’s just jealous he’ll never shine as bright as you do.”

You throw your arms around his neck, burying your face in it with a sniffle. “I love you.”

“I love you too. A lot.” Nuzzling into your hair, he inhales the soft scent of jasmine shampoo. “Feeling okay?”

“Yes. Thank you.” You really are. But, then, you sigh wistfully. “I’m thinking if I were an Amazon, it’d probably be easier to deal with this type of situation.”

“How so?” He tilts his head, confused.

“You know… I’d be strong, powerful... intimidating. Stuff like that.” 

“You already wield your intellect like the sharpest blade I’ve ever seen. Your words are eloquent and sharp when you stick up for what you believe. Not to mention the way you carry yourself with confidence even when you’re in a room filled with strangers.” He tucks a lock of hair behind your ear, speaking earnestly. “Trust me, sweetheart. You don’t need to be an Amazon when you’re already a goddess.” 

“That’s… wow… I wasn’t expecting that.” The butterflies are throwing a fucking rave in your stomach. You just can’t stop grinning, so you playfully hit his shoulder. “Never knew you could be so sappy.” 

He catches your wrist delicately, not missing the opportunity to turn it and plant his lips on your knuckles.

“That’s all on you. You turned me into this.” He claims, placing your open palm over his heart, and holding it there. It’s beating quite rapidly. Like yours is. “Take responsibility, woman.” 

“Fine,” you concede with a playful eye roll. Guilty as charged, your honor. “But, seriously, thank you. Your words mean a lot.”

“You mean a lot to me. Don’t ever forget that.” One, two, three pecks to his lips. You discover you really love kissing him as well. 

Suddenly, he’s covering his mouth with a yawn. Outside, Gotham’s black heaven is starting to get tinged with pink and yellow, announcing the sun’s impending arrival. Soon the streets around your building will have people going out about their day. Unbeknownst to them, one of the guys responsible for their safety sleeps tucked in your bed right around the corner. 

“We should probably sleep.” Jason begins, effortlessly getting up in a swift motion while still holding onto you. Your legs wrap around his waist as he walks you two to the bedroom. “I already lost way more brain cells than intended. Gotta save some for Mary Wollstonecraft tomorrow.”

“You’re such a dork.”

“And you need to get woke,” he taunts.

“These are my books!” You counter, indignantly. 

“Ours. Don’t be so individualistic, baby. That’s why capitalism—” Not letting him finish, you jump off his arms and go into the bathroom as he trails behind like a lost puppy.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it, comrade Red Hood. Now shut your revolutionary mouth, and let’s get ready for bed.”

thanks for reading, and please reblog if you enjoyed it <33

feel free to share your thoughts, i'd love to hear them!

this is where i got the dividers

[damnorange]

Brat - Chapter 1: An Emergency

What if the bond tethering their hands after she absorbed the aether core didn’t dissolve as easily as Sylus had promised? ----

"This bond should be released soon, you said."

It was the third time she'd made a comment along those lines. Rather than asking, her tone now carried a condescending edge, tinged with mild boredom. She shifted her weight, the metal wall at her back gradually warming from her body heat—or maybe his. She moved slightly to the left, seeking a new, marginally more comfortable position within the limited range the glow-in-the-dark cuffs allowed. Two and a half hours had passed since they returned from that eventful night. After resonating with him—albeit briefly—their hands were still chained together, forcing them into an unwilling proximity.

At this point, Sylus himself was bored to death. In his mind, he couldn't understand why the link between them hadn't weakened, let alone broken. He’d never been in a situation like this before. Though he was confident he could sever the connection by force, he hesitated, not wanting to damage their future chances of resonance or risk hurting her. So he waited it out.

After nearly three hours, however, his patience was wearing thin. He lacked the energy to take offense at her mocking tone and even less to entertain her. Raising an eyebrow, he shot her what had to be the dirtiest side-eye humankind had ever seen, then sneered.

"Admit it, kitten, You'd miss me too much if we parted ways." Sylus lifted their bound hands, pulling her closer in the process. "Need I remind you this is your doing?"

She huffed, defeated once again in their battle of words. Tugging herself away—at least as much as the cuffs allowed—she grumbled under her breath. She resumed staring at the opposite window, veiled in a thick layer of dust and grime. It barely let in any light, even with the curtain wide open. Of course, under the perpetually dim skies of Zone N109, there wasn’t much difference between day and night, but this still felt extreme. Without the faint glow of a few dim lights, the place could easily be mistaken for an abandoned mansion, like something out of a Dracula movie. Fittingly, the man beside her kind of matched the vibe. 

"I get the whole dark-and-broody aesthetic, but there's a fine line between that and just... filth, you know?"

"..."

"Can’t you afford electricity? This place is so dark."

"..."

"You do know LED lamps exist, right? They’re bright and cheap."

"Kitten, don't test me." 

The low growl of his voice and the sharp click of his tongue silenced her barrage of questions. His crimson irises seemed to glow brighter in the dim room, piercing into her brown eyes. A chill ran down her spine, just like when they first met. Some primal instinct in her mind screamed for her to run far away, while another urged her to shrink into invisibility.

Her shoulders slumped, and she pulled her legs closer to her chest, mumbling, "...Sorry."

Sylus pressed his lips together, clearly holding back a biting retort. In the end, he simply closed his eyes, returning to his statue-like meditation pose—silent and still.

With no other distractions in the room, her gaze drifted back to him. The infamous Onychinus leader became her latest subject of study. His snowy hair reminded her of meadows blanketed in frost, his features sharp and well-defined, his lightly tan skin freckled faintly—so faintly that only someone who’d been as close to him as she was now would notice.

She couldn’t help but admire his appearance. Cocky and intimidating personality aside, Sylus was undeniably handsome—a striking contrast to her dreary surroundings.

"Enjoying the view, aren’t you, sweetie?"

She blinked, startled, pulled from her reverie by the velvety depths of his voice. Coughing to mask her flustered state, she averted her gaze elsewhere, only to sneak a glance at him from the corner of her eye. His eyes were still closed. 

Maybe he had a third eye somewhere. She muttered the thought aloud without meaning to.

"I don’t have a third eye, just a good sense," he replied smoothly.

"Well, isn’t that bird of yours technically your third eye?" she shot back.

"Mephisto has two eyes. So, 'technically’, in that case I have four."

"Don’t play word games with me—you know what I meant."

Their banter fizzled into silence again. After the night’s chaos, even the mighty lord of the underworld seemed to be feeling sluggish. With adrenaline fading and nothing to do, drowsiness began creeping in. She yawned for what felt like the tenth time in the last fifteen minutes. This wasn’t the base where she’d been captured. It was much smaller, emptier. Judging by its state, she assumed it was his residence, too small to be Onychinus’s base. If so, it was... sad.

"If this thing doesn’t come off in the next thirty minutes, you’re coming with me to Linkon." Frustration edged her voice. Normally, she wouldn’t dream of letting him anywhere near where she lived, but desperation was setting in. She wanted a warm shower and a soft bed. If she had to drag the big boss there herself, she’d deal with the consequences later.

Besides, it was Sylus. If he didn’t already know where she lived, he could find out in a heartbeat.

Sylus raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Not even going to woo me first before taking me to bed? How bold of you."

She clicked her tongue, irritated. "Look, I don’t want to be near you any longer than necessary, but I’m tired. And if I’m stuck in your home—which doesn’t even have a sofa—I might as well rest in mine."

He squinted, looking slightly offended by her statement. "This is not my home," he said, his nose crinkling in distaste. Wiping his hair back with his free hand, away from his face, he continued, his eyes locking with hers. "Are you not scared, kitten? Inviting me so easily?"

Hearing his reply, she nodded as though it made perfect sense. Of course—no matter how much this man gave off Dracula vibes, he still needed to sleep somewhere. A man with tastes as picky as his wouldn't live in an almost-ruin like this. Ignoring his teasing—for her own sanity—she replied, "... Maybe I am."

Her eyes met his crimson ones, unwavering. "But I know I can't hide from you. No one can, right? Not for long."

"And I promised I would help you." Her tone was serious, her words resolute. She meant it. Of course, she remained wary of Sylus and his intentions, but this was her way of trying to understand him—their connection and, ultimately, what he wanted.

Sylus, meanwhile, toyed idly with a gun, its barrel gleaming from hours of meticulous polishing during their time stuck together. His crimson eyes flicked down to the weapon as he spoke. "Glad to know you're a fast learner, sweetheart." There was something unspoken behind his words, a faint glimmer of regret buried beneath his otherwise cold demeanor.

Sensing the weight of the moment, she cleared her throat. "So, where is your place? Is it far from here?"

She suspected the reason they were stuck here was the chaos erupting after she'd absorbed the Aether core. While their connection made them vulnerable to attack, perhaps they could sneak out quickly—if it wasn’t too far to his apartment.

Of course, there was another reason for her impatience.

"No. But I can't drive a motorcycle with this binding," he said, raising their linked hands slightly as if to emphasize the point. A smirk spread across his face. "Now you even want to visit a man's place? I didn't know you were this bold."

"I'm desperate, okay?" she shot back, a flush creeping into her cheeks. Turning her face away, she tried in vain to hide it. It was mortifying, but she was on the verge of breaking down. If there was no solution in the next ten minutes, she'd die of embarrassment.

Now Sylus was curious. Something was definitely off. He scanned her from head to toe, trying to discern what she was hiding. "Are you hurt?" he asked, his deep voice calm but tinged with concern. He had been certain she was unscathed, but perhaps there was an injury he’d missed.

"... No," she mumbled, barely audible, her face now buried in her knees. She curled into herself, retreating to a shrimp-like position.

"Then what is it?" he pressed. "Tell me, kitten, or do I have to use force?" He was running out of patience, his free hand twitching as though ready to summon Mephisto at any moment.

"Oh god, this is so embarrassing," she muttered to herself, voice muffled against her knees. After a moment’s hesitation, she blurted out so quickly it was almost unintelligible, "...I have to pee."

"What?"

"I... have to pee," she whispered, barely louder.

"Kitten." His voice dropped, frustration lacing his tone. "Speak up."

Gritting her teeth, she finally yelled, "For the love of...--I have to pee!" Her face was crimson now, fully flushed. "So I need to get out of here—somewhere with a bathroom."

"Ah."

For a moment, Sylus was silent. Of all the scenarios he had imagined—injuries, ambushes, even betrayal—this was not one of them. He blinked, his crimson eyes betraying a flicker of disbelief. "That's it? You made it sound like life and death, sweetie."

She groaned, burying her face back in her knees. "Please don't. I already want the ground to swallow me whole."

"Well... that's certainly... pressing," he said after a pause, his tone betraying faint amusement.

He chuckled—a low, deep sound that sent her spiraling into further mortification. "Relax, It’s a natural thing. Even someone like me understands biology."

"Yeah, but you’re not the one stuck cuffed to someone else!" she snapped, glaring up at him through her embarrassment.

"True," he conceded with a shrug. "But at least you’re cuffed to me."

"Great, thanks for that. Still prefer not to though," she muttered, sarcasm dripping from her words.

Noticing her fidgeting, Sylus let out an exaggerated sigh and stood, pulling her up with him. "Alright, alright. Let’s get moving before you start having a fit."

Her face brightened slightly. "You mean—"

"Yes, kitten, I’ll help you find a bathroom," he said, exasperation in his tone but not without a hint of amusement. He tugged lightly on their bound, urging her to move. "But this means you’re going to owe me. Big time."

"Oh, come on!" she protested, scrambling to her feet. "You’re the one who started this whole mess in the first place!"

He smirked, clearly enjoying her frustration. "Details," he said lightly, gesturing toward the door. "Lead the way. Unless, of course, you’d prefer I carry you there?"

Her glare could have incinerated him on the spot. "Don’t you dare."

With a soft chuckle, he motioned for her to hurry up. She was already mortified enough for one night, but being involved to Sylus ensured it wasn’t going to get any easier anytime soon. --- Notes: This game has brought back my love for writing after years, so sorry for any grammar mistakes—English isn’t my first language. The story shows little snippets of their daily lives and might not stick to canon since I just started playing Sylus and haven’t unlocked most of his memories yet. If anything’s not canon, think of it as an alternate universe (AU). Also, the female main character is her own person, not a reader stand-in. Her personality comes from the conversations I picked in the game, mixed with my own imagination. Also posted in AO3

[junovrsmp4]

one of the girls

part 2. the escalation

read part 1. here

Chris Sturniolo was bad news. You knew it, every girl within a 100 mile radius knew it. Your own brother had warned you to stay away from him, despite being his best friend. That didn’t stop you from wanting him though.

pairing: chris x reader

pt.2 summary:

warnings: ABSOLUTE FILTH, very very plot heavy, rough sex, oral, choking, over-stimulation, mild bdsm, p in v, degradation, slight age gap, zero communication, angst

word count: 6.9K (lmao i think this is going to be a thing)

author's note: so, i found out as i was writing this that @worldlxvlys has a fic with a very similar premise because its inspired by the same song, check it out if u havent already, its so fucking good

Sex with Chris became frequent after that night at the party.

It was a rush, like being swept up in a storm, each moment together like a collision between two giant forces. Rough, loud, painful, and so, so satisfying.

You were currently on your knees, face pressed against the coarse carpet that covered the floor of your bedroom and your ass high in the air, being pounded by the guy who had taken up significant space in your life over the years.

Thank the lucky stars you were home alone tonight, because there would have been no doubt about what was happening in your room.

“Fuck, fuck-” Chris groans, and you feel the way he grips your ass and spreads you apart, likely to watch his own dick moving in and out of your stretched-out pussy. “You’re always so fucking tight-” he says, punctuating his words with hard thrusts.

All you can do is moan loudly against the carpet, your mouth agape as you squeeze around his unrelenting thrusts. You can’t even tell how long it goes, only that he makes you cum, over and over, until he eventually chases his own release.

The clean-up that followed the sex was always quick but efficient, always done in silence. And once Chris was done with that, he always left with a quick kiss and pat to the cheek.

Sex with Chris hurt in the best way possible, and left you craving for more. And he never kept you waiting for long. You don’t think too hard about all the other places he must be getting sex, all you focus on is the fact that he always comes to you eventually, even if you don’t call for him.

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

“Chris-” you whine against his mouth as he thrusts up into you, the head of his dick ramming into that spongy bundle of nerves inside you that whites out your vision and has you gasping for air. Your hands find purchase on his shoulders, nails digging into the fabric of his t-shirt, stretching it as you pull, pull, pull, while he pushes, pushes, pushes into you, his lips sliding over your cheek, barely audible groans escaping him as he holds you back against the counter in this random bathroom at this random house party.

The noise outside the bathroom is loud enough to drown out the sounds of Chris fucking you, devouring you, and your head thrums from the bass, the sensation in your body reduced to just that spot inside you, your lower back, where the edge of the counter digs into your skin, likely leaving bruises, and your hips, where Chris’ hands grab and knead at the flesh as he drags you down onto his cock while thrusting up into you, over and over and over.

If anyone noticed how you limped for the rest of the night, no one pointed it out.

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

Another party, another chase. You’d spent a good hour and a half keeping Chris on his toes as you trailed from room to room, flirting with other guys and getting increasingly tipsy. At least, that’s what you’d thought, until you spotted him leaning over some girl, trailing his fingers up her thigh.

You’d decided to just grab the guy closest to you, quickly ask for his name before demanding that you kiss him, and he does, does it with fervor as he runs his hands all over you, trailing them up over the back of your thighs before kneading your ass cheeks over your jeans, pulling you close. Through the corner of your eye, you see Chris, now kissing the girl he had been talking to, except his eyes are locked onto yours.

You watch the corner of his lips lift slightly, and you feel like you keep losing this game you created in your head.

Ten minutes later, Chris has you on your knees on the bathroom floor, the cold tiles digging into your skin as he shoves his dick into your willing, open mouth. He uses you, makes you choke and gag on it, tears streaming down your face and spit trailing down your chin as he thrusts it in and out of you.

Another ten minutes, before he comes down your throat and shoves you off his cock, leaving you gasping for air.

He doesn’t say a word as he extends his leg forward, pressing the toe of his shoe against your clothed cunt, rubbing it against your jeans.

You know what he wants. So you give it to him.

You rut against his shoe, clawing at his leg as you sob and beg for more.

“What was that?” he asks with a mocking tone. “You want to get fucked?”

You nod furiously, forehead pressed against his thigh.

“Go ask that guy you were all over earlier.”

That was the first night you’d kissed a guy that wasn’t Chris, and in front of him too. It was also the first night he’d left you without making you cum.

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

Chris had one hand clamped tightly over your mouth, while the other was trapped between you, furiously stroking over his dick while he rutted against your stomach.

You’d barely had the time to process it at the time, but Chris had climbed into your room through the open window and proceeded to pin you down on your bed and kiss you fiercely.

That was a few hours ago. Since then he had fucked you twice, once on your back, before he’d flipped you over and fucked you on your knees, your face pushed into your duvet and his hand still clamped over your mouth to make sure you didn’t get too loud.

“You’re so good, you always take it so well.”

“Such a good girl for me, you like that don’t you?”

“You’re mine, yeah? Tell me. Only mine.”

“One more, you can take one more right?”

And you did take more, over and over and over again. Because it felt good. Only because it felt so good, despite the growing pang in your chest that became stronger every time Chris left.

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

Chris was…an enigma.

Despite the casual nature of your ‘relationship’, Chris tended to say and do things that confused you. And perhaps that was what got so many girls hooked onto him. The way he treated you like you were all his, all that he wanted, even though his womanizing nature was well-known.

At first, it seemed like a calculated move on his part, like he knew exactly what he was implying with his words and actions, a vague promise for more, even when both he and his girls knew there was no chance of it happening.

The more time you spent with him however, the more clear it became that Chris seemed almost sincere most of the time. Or maybe that was the delusional part of you, hoping he might be?

Is this what all the other girls he’s with go through? A constant spiral of wondering what was real and wasn’t, with their relationship with Chris?

A soft snore pulls you out of your thoughts and back to reality, where Chris, the man who usually doesn’t stay long once he’s done the deed, was now sleeping under your covers, one arm slung across your middle, while you leaned against your pillows.

It was surreal, seeing him like this, looking the most vulnerable you’ve ever seen him. You’d expected him to help clean you up and leave as soon as he’d fucked you, but instead, he’d stayed, waited for you to take a quick shower, before he too snuck into your bathroom to clean up and eventually crawled back under your covers.

It wasn’t the first time he’d stayed, but you still find yourself asking-

“What are you doing?”

“Shh, I’m tired, let’s sleep for a bit,” he mumbles, eyes already closed, one arm hanging off the edge of your bed, while the other pulls you close.

“Isn’t this like, against your rule or something?” you ask, trying to fight back the urge to cuddle up against him and run your fingers through his hair. It looked so soft, fanning against your pillow, the moonlight creating a slight halo around him.

He looked beautiful.

“Do you do this with your other girls?” Another question you’d asked before, the first time he’d slept over.

All he does is hum dismissively in response, just like last time.

You settle down under the covers, relishing in the warmth of Chris’ body, exhaustion from your earlier activities settling into your bones as the fresh scent of your own body wash wafting off of both of your skins sends you off into a dreamless sleep.

Hours later, just before sunrise, you’re startled awake by the sound of a branch hitting your window. It was still dark, but there was the noticeable lack of a body next to you, and the warmth that was quickly fading.

That was the one of the rare nights when Chris had stayed the night. And just like always, he left without a trace, the only reminder of his presence being the soreness between your legs and used condoms and tissues in the waste basket under your desk.

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

You knew this was getting out of hand.

Things were only escalating with Chris. What had started out as an experiment of sorts, a game, one that barely had rules to begin with, was starting to feel like a trap. The way he was attentive and disinterested in equal measure, the way he was so attuned to your pleasure and somehow still came across as a selfish jerk who only cared for his own, the way he always, always made it hurt in just the right way…it was almost degrading how exhilarated it made you feel.

You hadn’t accounted for how addictive Chris would become.

Speaking of addiction, you were currently experiencing withdrawal symptoms.

You pull out your phone and scroll through the last few texts you’d exchanged with Chris.

> Can i come over?

> uh..is everything okay?

> Yeah.

> Why?

> u usually just.. show up lol, why’re u asking this time?

> Heard you were prepping for college apps

> yeah

> Busy?

> kinda? u can still come over if u want..

> it’s been a while

> Have you been counting the days since we last fucked? Lol

> shut up ohmygod

> r u coming over or not?

> Yeah, gimme a few.

> okay

That had been a week ago. Chris had never showed up.

You had tried your best to ignore how hurt you’d felt. You’d instead just focused on your applications, working on your essays and filling out endless forms. You’d even gone out with your friends to take your mind off of everything, attempted to hook up with another older guy at a bar, but he’d turned out to be much older, and married at that, which had put you in an even more sour mood than before. You’d promptly decided to go back home then.

Your shitty mood must have been really obvious, because your brother, who was back home for break from college, showed up at your bedroom door, leaning against the frame as he watched you do your nightly skincare routine. He’d seen the way you’d walked up to your room, scowl so deep with a faraway look in your eyes.

“Did something happen at the bar?” he asked, stepping into your room and closing the door to make sure your parents wouldn’t overhear your conversation.

You pause, watching him through your vanity mirror as he flops onto your bed, displacing your carefully placed pillows and plushies, sending one of them tumbling to the ground.

A deep inhale.

“No, nothing happened,” you say with a deep sigh. “Well, there was this one guy-”

“Fucking hell, what’d he do?” your brother interrupts.

“Relax, nothing happened. He was flirting with me, but turns out he was married. Made me feel icky so I left right after.”

“Oh, okay. What a loser.”

“I know, right?”

You and your brother enjoy the special kind of comfortable silence that only being in each other’s company provided.

“You’ve been kind of off lately,” he finally says. “You wanna, um… you wanna talk about it?”

So much for comfortable silence.

After a few long seconds, you reply. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

“You’re kind of a shit liar, kid.”

You ignore him, focusing instead on smoothing some oil into your hair before braiding it. Behind you, your brother sighs, shifting on your bed. Incrementally, his sighs get louder, and he rolls back and forth on your bed, rustling up the covers and making an even bigger mess than before.

“Stop that, will you?” you snap at him, glowering at him through your mirror.

“I’m bored.”

“Go be bored anywhere else.”

“Not leaving until you tell me what’s been bothering you.”

“Get out.”

“Nuhuh.”

“You’re so annoying, oh my fucking god- stop messing up my bed!” you yell, chucking your hairbrush at him. You let out a satisfied chuckle when you hear a yelp.

Silence.

“Want to go on a drive? Like we used to?”

You turn to face your brother who is now sitting up on your bed, legs crossed as he picks at one of our plushies. When your don’t answer right away, he looks up at you, giving you a conspiratorial grin.

“Let’s sneak out and get food,” he whispers, eyes wide and eyebrows raised with a wolfish smile.

It makes you laugh, the idea of sneaking out as a fully grown adult with your older adult brother, and you won’t know until much later, but your brother had let out a sigh of relief at seeing you relax a bit.

Abandoning your plans to head to bed, you and your brother quietly make your way downstairs, grab your jackets and head out in his car, and everything felt simple again. The two of you used to do this a lot more often when he was still in school. Every time you seemed stressed, he would suggest an impromptu late night drive around the town, making stops at either a gas station or one of the many restaurants near you to get a late night snack.

You sat, once again in comfortable silence, listening to a song you didn’t recognize softly playing through the car radio, as the two of you dug into the lamb shawarmas you’d decided to get as tonight’s late night snack.

“Oh, this shit’s so fucking good,” your brother groaned through a big, messy bite, making you laugh and gag at the same time, and you shove at his shoulder, exclaiming about how gross he was being, before the two of you just end up shoving at each other and giggling like little kids.

You felt good. Normal.

“You know you can talk to me about anything right,” he says, sauce still smeared across his lip and cheek.

“I know, I know,” you say, as you shove a few napkins into his face.

“Unless it’s about sex. I don’t wanna hear about you fucking some dude. Or girl, I don’t care.”

“Wow, okay.”

“But if what’s got you down- and don’t lie, I know something’s up- has something to do with some guy- or girl, like I said, I don’t care- you’ll tell me if it gets too bad right?”

“Define ‘too bad’…,” you say, picking at the wrapper on your now half-eaten shawarma.

“Don’t want you to get hurt, kid, that’s all.”

You look up at your brother, who is looking straight ahead, still chowing on his food. You feel overwhelmed suddenly, and everything from the past week catches up to you.

The stress from wondering if you’ll get into college, the doubt from figuring out if college was even what you wanted to do, and then there was Chris, and oh, how could you tell your brother about any of that? He would absolutely flip, and you feel so ashamed.

You settle on telling him it’s just the stress of college applications.

“Right,” he says, drawing out the word. “Makes sense, makes sense. You know, if you need help with any of it, just let me know yeah?”

You weren’t going to ask him for help. You nod anyway.

“Oh, by the way,” your brother turns to you, leaning against the car door with an excited gleam in his eyes. “Did you hear? The triplets are going to L.A.!”

“What.”

“Yeah! Apparently, their channel is really hitting it off, so they’re like prepping to move there, ‘cause that’s where all the youtubers and influencers are, right? More opportunities and things like that. Isn’t that cool? I’m excited for ‘em.”

Your brother goes back to blissfully munching on his food, leaving you shell shocked and dazed.

“Yeah…good for them.”

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

The next couple of days went by in a blur. You threw yourself into applications, now extending them into a job search to desperately keep yourself occupied. The initial plan had been to take a gap year after school, which is why you’d been so lax with your college prep. Some of your friends had already heard back from their dream schools and were already preparing to move to different places for the upcoming academic year, some were already working, and you were just, in limbo. And you didn’t mind until now, until you’d realized that you’d end up getting left behind by everyone.

Even…Chris.

That asshole still hadn’t texted or called, and the only time you heard about him was through your brother when he’d vaguely mention about seeing the triplets when he went over to their house. You knew that you could just as well contact him, but pride and your hurt feelings kept you from doing so. Instead, you wallowed in shame and anger at having let this man leave you feeling so disoriented.

This wasn't the plan. The plan had been to hit it and quit it, see what the hype around Chris was all about but he’d managed to crawl under your skin, leave you wanting more.

Just as you’re about to work yourself into another spiral over the man, you hear a series of sharp taps against your bedroom window. You look up, startled, to find exactly the person you didn’t want to see right now.

“Since when do you lock your bedroom window?” you hear Chris ask, voice muffled through the glass.

You remain seated on your bed, leaning against your pillows, frozen, before you slowly pick your phone up from where you’d dropped it beside you, and pretend to mindlessly scroll through it.

“Let me in, babe, c’mon-”

A few more seconds go by, with Chris alternating between tapping your window and texting you to get your attention. Worried that he might end up waking the whole house, you finally make a move to open your window.

“I almost fell off that fucking tree waiting for you to-” Chris starts to say, but one look at your face has him stopping in his tracks.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?”

You weren’t sure what he was seeing, but you could feel a knot building up in your throat, a slight tremor in your limbs. The last thing you wanted to do was cry in front of this man.

“What do you want, Chris?” you ask, sitting down on the edge of your bed, refusing to look at him, instead focusing on a loose thread on your sheets, picking at it while trying to get your breathing under control.

You feel him step closer to you, until he’s standing right in front of you, your face now level with his waist. Chris’ hand comes up to grab your chin, lifting your head up with a gentleness that surprises you.

“You mad at me, baby?” he asks with a soft smile, and it throws you off, makes you angry, because why the fuck did he have to go sounding like a boyfriend coming home to a girlfriend who’d gotten upset over something trivial?

You huff, rolling your eyes at him, which makes him grab your chin slightly harder.

“Don’t give me that attitude right now,” he says, voice dropping an octave. “Why wouldn’t you let me in?”

Your attempt at looking passive was failing, and anger takes over, making you glare daggers at him.

“Two weeks, Chris. Almost two weeks of radio silence, and what, you expect me to just be here waiting for with open arms? What the fuck is wrong with you?” you spit out, smacking his arm away from you, making him let you go.

“Oh come on,” he drawls out, body going half limp as he lets his head roll back. “I got busy! Didn’t think you’d be this mad, and- and, hold on- I didn’t expect you to be waiting for me, I just don’t get why you’re mad!”

“You’re such an asshole.”

“Well yeah, but you already knew that, didn’t you,” he says with a cocky smile, hands reaching out to grab yours. “Stop being so upset, I’m here now, yeah?”

“You can’t just show up whenever it’s convenient for you and expect me to be okay with that. You made plans that night to come to me and just ghosted me! For weeks!”

He looks puzzled, like he genuinely doesn’t understand why you would be upset and that just makes you even more upset.

You feel like an afterthought to him. To a man who had taken up significant space in your life, you were just…nothing. And you can’t blame anyone but yourself for this situation you’re in because you knew **what you were getting into, you knew this was all it would be and yet…

“When were you going to tell me you were leaving?”

Chris freezes up, his fingers that were running up and down your arms stilling against your elbows.

After a brief pause, he sighs, dropping to his knees in front of you and burrowing his head into your lap, bringing your hands up around his shoulders.

“How’d you find out?” he asks, voice muffled against your t-shirt. “Wait, let me guess. Your big-mouth brother?”

That makes you chuckle. “Yeah, he mentioned it a few nights ago.”

“I wasn’t lying, I’ve been busy preparing to leave. Nick is the one working on the logistics mostly, but yeah…”

“You could’ve said something,” you whisper, hand coming up to hover over Chris’ head. It seems like Chris senses your hesitation, because he grabs your hand and places it on his head, which you take as permission to run your fingers through the soft strands, combing through the slight knots that were close to his nape and gently smoothing it out.

“We weren’t gonna tell anyone until we had everything figured out.”

“So how did my brother find out?”

“Stupid Matt probably mentioned it when he came over.”

In a distant part of your mind, you think about how weird this all is, having Chris like this, soft and vulnerable, so unlike his usual domineering self. You’re still upset with him, but it feels nice, having this Chris.

“I’m still mad at you.”

“I know. I didn’t wanna slip up and end up telling you, which is why I stayed away for a bit.”

“You still could’ve texted, told me something came up.”

“I know,” he whines. “Would you believe me if I said I did mean to text you but every time I thought about it, something else would come up and eventually I just…forgot.”

“Right. You forgot.”

The sharp pain in your chest was starting to feel normal in conjecture with Chris at this point. Of course he just forgot to text you, because that’s how insignificant you were to him.

You pull your hand away from his hair and gently try to move out from under him.

“When are you leaving?” you ask, sitting at your desk to put some physical distance between the two of you, even though your body was screaming to just fall into his arms.

Chris looks at you with an expression you can’t read, before moving to sit on your floor and lean against your bed frame, leaning his elbows over his knees.

“End of the week.”

“That’s two days away.”

He hums, letting his head drop back against your bed.

“Guess your roster of girls are going to have to find a new way to occupy their time, huh?” you say in hopes of lightening the mood.

It undoubtedly does the opposite.

Chris makes a noise that sounds somewhere between a laugh and a scoff. He lifts his head back up and fixes you with a gaze that makes you shiver, his eyes now cold and distant as he smirks up at you.

“One last fuck before I leave? You can find another guy after that, but I doubt anyone here is gonna be anywhere near as good as me,” he says as he runs his fingers through his hair.

And that’s how you find yourself under Chris, wrists caught in his hands and held up above your head as he fucks into you.

It’s different this time.

He watches you intently, and it makes you uncomfortable, his unrelenting gaze, but your focus is split between that and the fact that he’s fucking you with deep, slow drags of his cock against your inner walls. He’d eaten you out right before, worked you up and left you wet and sloppy, close to squirting before pushing into you, eyes locked onto your face as he slowly stretched you out.

You could feel it build up inside you, the pressure to release, but he was going slower than usual, focusing on fewer but deeper thrusts that left you biting into your lip to keep you from crying out loud.

“Tell me, who’s gonna fuck you like this, hm?” Chris asks, his free hand coming up to wrap around your throat. “Tell me.”

You gasp, your pussy clenching around him as he tightens his grip around your throat.

“No one,” you breathe out, voice low and rough from your throat being squeezed. “No one, no one else, please-”

“Yeah? You’re mine, aren’t you?”

You nod against his grip, near sobbing at this point, begging for him to just fuck you harder and let you cum.

“Say it. Say the words”

“I’m yours, I’m yours, please- please fuck me harder, please-”

Chris lets go of your wrists, but you keep them where they were, and he lets out a satisfied hum which has you preening.

Chris sits up, his hands moving to grab your hips, and you brace yourself to be fucked hard, but Chris keeps up with the slow pace still, as he pulls you onto his lap, making you cry out in frustration, a fresh set of pleas falling from your lips in hopes of urging him to just take from you like he usually does.

You watch through blurry, tear-filled vision as Chris runs his hands up your stomach, palming at your breasts while he bucks up into you.

“Chris, please…”

He ignores you, fingers now drawing invisible lines across the planes and curves of your body, thumbs dipping into the crease between your cunt and thighs, feeling you all over while he watches you with his intense blue eyes.

You almost miss it, what with the blood rushing in your ears and your own moans, but you hear Chris whisper, “I’m going to miss this.”

And that’s what sends you over the edge, the prospect of Chris missing you, even though a rational part of you knows it’s probably just the sex, just this, your warm body under his to be used by him.

Still, it makes you cum harder than you ever have before, leaves you sobbing and almost screaming. Chris holds down your body, your hips thrashing wildly as your cunt leaks and squeezes rhythmically around him, which sets him off and makes him come inside you.

Everything after that follows as usual. He rolls off of you, methodically cleans the both of you off, discards the used condoms and tissues, and tells you he’s leaving.

You watch as he makes his way to your window, back tense as he runs his fingers through his mussed up hair.

“Bye,” you whisper, trying to ignore the fact that it will be a while until you see him again in person. Months, maybe a year, instead of just a week and a half.

Chris turns then, and you can’t make out his expression in the dark, with his back lit by the moonlight.

You watch, breath catching in your throat as he makes his way back to you, hesitating for the first few steps.

He leans over you, knees bent awkwardly as he angles himself to your height. His hands come up to rest over your cheeks, thumbs rubbing across them, before he completely takes you by surprise with a final kiss.

It’s not the kiss itself that catches you off-guard, but the gentleness and timing of it. You and Chris have kissed before, in fact, you’d done it every time he’d fucked you, but only during. Always during. Never after.

He nips at your bottom lip, licking into your mouth when you gasp, his fingers carding through your hair as he angles your head to deepen the kiss. Your hands clutch at the front of his shirt, stretching the fabric. The next few moments are just this, soft touches as you break apart and keeping going back in for more, quiet but heavy breathing in your dark room as you drink each other in.

You feel tears building up behind your closed eyelids, melting into his touch, and it’s almost funny how much this feels like you’re bidding farewell to a long-time, steady lover. One who wasn’t just a casual sex partner.

It makes you laugh, a wet sound that barely covers up the sob that follows it, and Chris chuckles too, leaning his forehead against yours.

“What the fuck am I doing?” he asks to no one in particular.

“I don’t know, Chris,” you answer anyway, your fingers playing with the chain on his neck. “You tell me.”

One more kiss, pressed hard against your lips with a sigh, before he stands back up and makes his way back to your window.

“I’ll see you later,” he says without turning back.

And with that, he was gone.

That was the first and last night Chris had kissed you after sex. It was also the last night you’d see him before he left for L.A.

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

You hadn't realized how big of a gap Chris would leave in your life.

Things kept changing, time kept moving, albeit slowly, but you were still waiting to catch up with everyone else.

You try to fill the void by hanging out with your friends, getting drunk and high, chasing phantoms of Chris at different parties, finding yourself pressed between bodies that were distinctly not his.

You dated. Like, actually tried. Chris had been in your life since you were sixteen, and you hadn’t sought out anyone for two years after that, but it was high time. You’d stayed loyal to a guy who wasn’t your boyfriend and maybe that had been your mistake. Maybe you should’ve pulled a page out of Chris’ book and just slept around like he did, maybe then you wouldn’t have felt so…lost right now.

But you hadn’t wanted anyone else. Not like you wanted him.

Still, you tried, but it was becoming increasingly clear that you had a pattern. The only guys you ended up actually talking to all happened to be older than you, friends, or friends of friends, of your brother. Subconsciously, you were probably seeking out for a proxy of Chris, some way to replace him in the best way you could.

Elijah had been sweet. He took you out on dates, bought you gifts, and was a real gentleman. Your brother had eventually caught on, and when you’d expected him to be mad, he’d actually approved, told you that Elijah was a good guy and that he trusted him to take care of you. That didn’t stop him from giving Elijah the shovel talk though.

It was good, for a while. Elijah was sweet, maybe too sweet. He was soft with his affection, and it made you feel undeserving.

You felt broken, for being unsatisfied with a man as amazing as him.

The breakup was rough. There were tears, both of you an absolute mess as you tried to explain why you were feeling the way you did without giving away too much, and to his credit, Elijah took it well. He was respectful, didn’t pry, and wished you the best.

“I’ve grown to care for you, a lot,” he’d said, holding your hands in his. “I want you to be happy, and if that’s not with me, I’ll just have to learn to live with it.”

You hadn’t realized how serious it had been for him.

You felt like a bitch.

Jason was…wild. He was loud and obnoxious in a fun way, and reminded you of a certain someone. The two of you had hooked up in the back of his car upon your second meeting at a bar, the first one being at your house when he’d come over with a bunch of other guys to help your brother move out and into his own apartment closer to the city.

It didn’t last long. He was not a good lay, and that was that.

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

Ray was amazing. You started talking to him a little after you’d decided to go to community college to get your life in track. You’d gotten accepted into a few colleges of your choice, but in the end, you still didn’t know what you really wanted to do, when the local community college’s brochure caught your eye, and you found some exciting writing and teaching courses.

Ray was supportive, knew what he wanted and got you thinking about what you wanted too. A great listener, and even greater in bed. He was a little emotionally distant sometimes, but even that he’d patiently talked to you about, explaining how he had a hard time expressing emotions in front of people.

You were still going strong, many months into talking and dating, and he had yet to do anything that put you off. He’d even come over to your house for dinner with your parents and brother, and everything had gone well.

Days were exciting again, especially with an amazing boyfriend who you seemed to match really well with. The two of you were amazing at communicating, especially because Ray was good at it, and he was influencing you in such a positive way. You were also sexually so, so compatible, and it just, worked.

Everything was going well.

Until one night, when you’re getting ready to go on a date with Ray, and you hear voices downstairs, loud excited exchanges. You figure it’s Ray and your brother just chatting it up before you have to leave, so you hurry up, fix your hair and put on your heels, before rushing downstairs to greet your man.

The sight that greets you has you stopping dead in your tracks.

“Oh.”

At the sound of your voice, all heads in the room turn toward you. Nick, Matt, and Chris had come back to visit their family, and had decided to stop by your place to see their best friend. Your parents and your brother were there too, and suddenly everyone is exclaiming about how great you look.

You feel disoriented, trying to keep your reaction normal as you brush off compliments from your parents, Nick and Matt. Your brother just rolls his eyes with an affectionate look, while Chris remains silent, his eyes raking over your figure.

“Well, you’re way too dressed up to just be hanging out with friends,” Matt comments eventually. “Date?”

Your mother answers for you. “Oh, she’s been seeing Ray! He’s such a nice boy.”

Your father grunts, muttering something under his breath but nodding all the same.

To anyone else, besides his brothers perhaps, Chris looked like the picture of impassive, but you’d learned to read his body language over the years.

He was pissed. You could tell.

Thing is, even after Chris had left, the two of you had kept in touch. You’d done your best to avoid watching the triplets’ videos, especially after you’d come across ones that featured Chris with different influencers, the prettiest girls you’d ever seen. You didn’t need to work yourself up over the fact that he was around all these beautiful people now. It didn’t matter anymore.

But avoiding the videos was different from avoiding the man himself. You couldn’t help it, texting him every now and then, asking about life in L.A. He always answered, even if sometimes it was days late. Neither of you brought up what had transpired on the last night he’d spent with you before he left, and neither of you talked about the casual sex that had preceded it.

It was an interesting development, talking to Chris like he was just another friend. He didn’t seem like he way trying too hard to maintain a certain facade, like he was trying to hide parts of him.

The two of you talked a lot more in the almost one year apart than you did in the two years you’d been in each other’s vicinity.

You’d conveniently left out the part about you dating Ray though, or any of the other guys, from all your conversations. You didn’t feel the need to. It’s not like Chris was talking about all the dates he was going on, and you were sure there were plenty of those back in L.A., so in the interest of keeping things friendly and casual and normal, you didn’t talk about your love life.

You announce to the room that you’re going to grab a drink from the kitchen, hoping to escape the chaos and wait for Ray in there.

Your parents retreat back to their room. You hear your brother and the triplets chat for a while before you hear Chris ask if there was any Pepsi in the house. You hear your brother offer to grab him one, but he politely says he’d just get it himself.

A few beats of silence, before you hear soft footsteps that get louder as they get closer to the kitchen.

“How long?” Chris asks, as he appears in the doorway of the kitchen.

“What?” you ask, hands gripping the counter as you watch him move closer to you.

“Ray. How long have you been seeing him?”

He pauses right in front of you, towering over you, as he waits for you to answer.

“It’ll be our six month anniversary in a couple of days,” you answer, looking down and choosing to focus on your own clothes, picking at a hem of your sleeve.

“Funny, you didn’t mention him in any of your texts.”

“Didn’t feel the need to,” you reply, turning your head to the side when you feel his face moving closer to yours. “Besides, it’s not like you were telling me about all the people you were dating back in L.A.”

“I wasn’t dating anyone.”

“Dating, fucking, whatever.”

Chris tenses at that, before stepping closer, hands caging you against the counter, and you catch the faint whiff of weed on his clothes.

“You look good,” he finally says, hand coming up to brush against the fabric of your dress where it was cut against your thigh.

“Thank you,” you mumble, wondering how no one had come in to see what’s taking either of you so long in the kitchen.

Just as you’re about to suggest that you both go back outside to sit with others, before you do something you regret, you hear the doorbell ring, and Ray’s voice calling out for you.

You jump, trying to get past Chris, but his hands stay where they are, palms on the counter as his head drops to your shoulder, mumbling something you couldn’t quite catch.

“What?”

“I missed you, baby. Couldn’t fuck anyone without thinking of you.”

And before you know it, he’s stepping away and backing out of the kitchen, his Pepsi forgotten on the counter.

You stay frozen, trying to process what happened. Ray eventually comes to you in the kitchen, greets you with a smile and a deep kiss, tells you how beautiful you look before whisking you away and into his car for your date.

And the whole time, all you can think about is Chris.

author’s note: idk how i feel about this one, it's plot heavy and angsty and i feel like idk idk if anyone's gonna like it but here (: likes, comments and reblogs r much appreciated <3

taglist 🩵 (comment on my pinned post to be added or removed):

@luverboychris @bigbeefybitch @liz-stxrn @slut4chriss @slut4mattsturnio1o @sturniolosgirl @coochiedestroyer1 @cutiepiess4l @kvtie44 @vschrissturn @hercigaretteblush @fwskullz @m4rriii @anabanana28 @sturniolosange1 @webbersturn @odeezier @johnniesrealwife @freshsturns @marlenafortuna @carolineheartsmatthew @incndescentglow @starniolosposts @urfavgirllyyyyy @mattsturniolosworld @lilyloveschris @sturniozo @lookingformyromeo @heartss4matthewq @lanasturniolo @zina25sworld @ezziewinchester @s-s-842 @sturnlova @whyarefictionalmennotreal @55sturn @cheetahmadi @sturniolowhore @cupidsword @sturnsblog @lovehoneygirll @breeloveschris @littlemisswhore @worldlxvlys @sturniolo04 @sturnioloco @littlemisswhore @pandacake128 @chrizznmetswife @spideylovin @sturnclouds

[disappointeddyke]

What the fuck is in the air today

[alchemistc]

He's been good. He's been - pretending to be good well enough that no one has been suspicious.

It's just -

That was it. That was The One.

And sure. He can get back out into the world. He can fall in love again. There is a beautiful man somewhere out in the world who will make him laugh, make him cry.

He's just not sure he wants to put the effort in anymore.

For a hot second he'd really thought -

Not that it matters, anymore.

He's pretty sure his leg is pinned. The cockpit is more smoke than air, at this point. He can feel his toes, but honestly that might be more a curse than a blessing.

He's been staring at the phone in his hand for the last five minutes. Ever since he realized he didn't have the leverage to try to move the bracket keeping him from slipping free of the broken, crunched in door frame.

It's selfish. It's the most selfish fucking thing he's considered since he decided to break his own heart instead of letting someone else.

But logistically he's got about seven minutes until there's too much smoke and not enough air in here, and that's only IF the fire doesn't catch somewhere else.

He's got enough bars. And there are two numbers he could call. Two ways this could go.

The phone rings through four times, and on the fifth, someone answers.

"This is a bad time, Tommy," Eddie says, and Tommy feels a little hysterical. The laughter comes in fits, only slows when he gets a nice good whiff of smoke straight up his nose.

"Sure is."

The tone shifts. "Are you okay?"

"It was a bad idea anyway."

He feels woozy. Glances down at his leg and realizes that stain he'd thought was shadow is... definitely blood.

"Listen. I'm - when Evan gets the call, don't let him go alone. It's my fault for not updating my ICE."

The silence on the other line is deafening. "Tommy, where are you? Don't - don't make any decisions you can't come back from." It's a panned line he'd heard at the VA the half dozen times he'd gone.

"Yeah I didn't really make this decision myself. I'm just - I'm losing a lot of blood, here, and there's not a lot of ways for the smoke to get out of this cabin, and -."

High alert has a very specific sound and feel to it.

Eddie's cursing, something is shuffling, he's snapping his fingers in the distance. God, they're probably at work. "Where are you?"

Tommy rattles off his last known coordinates. "I already told dispatch, Eddie. I'm just. They're not gonna make it in time, and I need you to promise me you won't let him be alone when -."

It'd been a trip he would have been riding shotgun for, if Tommy hadn't made sure he wasn't. He's grateful for that, at least.

He's really not expecting much, he thinks. Eddie doesn't have to go far out of his way to support Buck. It'll hurt him, true. But Tommy's gotten pretty used to being the cause of that. And. He'll be dead, anyway, so he won't have to carry that guilt for long.

And then Eddie betrays whatever vestige of friendship they had left, because it's not Eddie's voice that responds.

"Hey asshole. Do you have enough leverage to break the window?"

He's got a good voice. A little gruff, a little heavy.

Tommy doesn't want this.

"No."

"Actually no, or are you just accepting your fate again without even talking about alternatives."

It's not how he thought he'd go. Dramatic final hour phone call, the end of their relationship as a metaphor for the bleakness of his situation. "I'm sorry, Buck."

He's having trouble focusing his eyes. There's a beat behind his ears that keeps slowing down. He thinks he might be hearing sirens but -

"Evan," Tommy says for the first time in six months. "I'm so sorry, Evan."

He says - something. The tone of it is there, even if he can't quite make out the words.

Tommy blinks. Coughs.

There's a phone in his hands.

Why is there a phone in his hands, he's supposed to be flying a -

He'd crashed it, actually.

Well shit.

Damn.

Eddie's gonna be so pissed if he has to find out second hand that Buck's going to get a really fucking shitty call in a few hours.

He should call.

---

When he blinks open his eyes, he finds his fingers first, nearly has a panic attack when they don't move they way he wants them to, except - oh.

There are fingers interlocked with his.

Tommy follows the line of the arm, even though he knows.

"Sorry," Evan says, and there are tears unshed at the corners of his eyes but he looks mad as hell. "You only get one dramatic exit out of my life in a calendar year."

[lovelykhaleesiii]

Aegon is the best big brother to his sweet sister, who is in third trimester of pregnancy; not only does he help her relieve the feeling of her heavy breasts by sucking on her tits greedily like a babe, he sometimes helps the aching feeling between her legs by sticking his cock, tongue or fingers in her cunny

Such a good brother, especially when she’s not even his wife

Blood of my Blood.

PAIRING: Older!Brother!Aegon ii Targaryen x Little!Sister!Fem!Reader

WORDS: 1,715.

WARNINGS: incest to the max, implied affair [Aegon is the father of the child], age gap [reader is of mature/consensual age], lactation kink, pregnancy kink, slight reference to breeding kink, p in v sexual intercourse, possessive!Aegon, swearing.

A/N - now I NEVER write brother x sister tropes even in the ASOIAF universe just because it’s not really my cup of tea, but this ask sparked something very very feral in me. I might make a neice x uncle version of this or a Daddy Aeg x daughter!reader version.

credit to the owners of the images.

Curse the Gods who afflicted the journey of motherhood, for it could be such a gruelling thing... Heading into the final few moons of your first pregnancy, you had never felt such intense discomfort in your life. Your beloved mother, Queen Alicent, had informed you of such grievances, although with little empathy for her pregnancies had been quite embracing and facile. Your eldest sister, Helaena, having already given birth to a set of twins, now in the early stages of her current pregnancy with your elder brother, Aemond, could somewhat console you, becoming an anchor of support.

It was Aegon, your eldest of the siblings, that you seemed most attached to, for it was Aegon that granted you bliss in your pregnancy, more so than your absent husband, some delinquent lord of the Vale. You had argued your way with your mother, and batted your eyes to your father, begging you to stay in King's Landing, in familiar territory with the finest maesters at hand. More so, it was Aegon who had plotted with you this essential plan.

"Do you truly think that the maesters of the Vale and that imbecile you call husband will keep you safe and satisfied, dear sister? Not in the least... But I can."

Aegon's temptress of a tongue was convincing alone, although it had been his merciful gestures of chivalry that kept you sane and grounded. Easing your aches and pains of expecting, Aegon became your sole beacon of ease, like the formidable arms of a warrior and you, the damsel he heroically carries.

"Do they ache again, sweet sister?"

The softness in his husky, drowsy voice breaking the silence of the chamber, woke you whole from your half-hearted daze. You had both succumbed to slumber [often Aegon insisted that you remain closely by his side, even in bed] what felt like hours long ago, and yet through the ginger firelight, by the open window, night remained swallowing the sky.

"Mhmm-" You uneasily stir: weakly trying to muster enough strength to sit yourself upright: however, with the sheer, bulging mass of your grown belly you visibly struggled until Aegon's efforts of pulling you effortlessly upright ended your dilemma.

"Want me to help, princess?"

His calloused, thick hands began to rub small, soothing circles against your lower back, knowing the babe inside exerted much pressure on your lower spine: its weight growing more rigid with each passing month.

"You've helped me enough, Aegon. I mustn't ask more from you... If this state is any indication of me being a mother, consider me a terrible one," You defeatedly utter, one hand stretched from behind supporting your upright position, whilst the other softly caressed at the protruding temple of your clothed belly.

"Don't speak like that, Y/N, dearest. This is your first babe, you must understand your body is adjusting. Hel suffered a great deal with the twins also, and now, look at her... You are going to be a beautiful mother, indeed. I have no doubt...C'me here."

Lightly tapping at your exposed thigh, your night gown had been pulled up just below your way with all the commotion and movement. Obeying, Aegon summoned you onto his lap, shirtless he had entered the bed, however before you could even gather motion to straddle yourself atop: he'd managed to tear away his undergarments, leaving his exposed girth, reddened at the tip with excitement. Modestly covering himself with the sheer, ivory linen.

"Right now?" Your snappy tone vicious, however Aegon remained unfazed.

"Well, little sister, if I'm being quite frank it seems you've been dreaming quite vividly... Do you not hear the moans and pleas that escape your lips in sleep, crying out for me, begging... Want your elder to sate you, is it? Was that babe growing inside of you not enough, you wish me to spoil you some more, hmm?"

"A-Aeg- We shouldn't..." You meekly whimper, a surge of heat coursing through your face, certain your cheeks had grown scarlet with shame.

"All you had to do was ask."

His dark voice a low growl, like some concealed predator eager to ambush. Aegon's motions remained in contrast, tender and cautious, easing your delicate and sensitive frame over his wide, gelatinous thighs. A scorching sensational painfully heightened sent lightning bolts in waves throughout the entirety of your body, shuddering with excitement as your aching cunt eased itself over his pulsating cock. It had been a while since you had been intimate with Aegon like this, prior to the pregnancy in fact: the changes your body had undergone since were bracing and raw.

Feeling the tensity beneath and the heat as you began to bob ever so slowly and sensually over Aegon's tense, fat cock: feeling its hard tip hitting at your cervix [you had hoped rather than the babe]. Your tight walls overstretched, desperate to adjust to his girthy width, you swore to yourself it had never felt this stimulating ever before: every primal sense in your body, every fibre of your being resisting the urge to collapse into a faint against Aegon's soft chest, gripping onto the bare, pale skin of his broad shoulders for dear life.

"That's it, rūs [baby], doing so-so well. It hurts I know, but Daddy's gonna make you feel so much better. Keep going, princess."

Head rolling back in admiration, you felt the intensity from between your inner thighs beginning to lessen, a wetness pooling between, coating the friction to ease the motions. Your hands release their strong hold over him, as your eyes began to wonder over his body, you had immediately noticed the raw, reddened marks lashed across his ivory skin. To avoid any more damage, you guide your relaxed hands up towards Aegon's short strands.

Tugging and playfully pulling at the loose, platinum locks, whilst Aegon's face remained buried, eagerly lapping at your petal-like skin on the base of your neck. One strong arm snaked around your back, gripping you firmly by the neck providing some lumbar support, whilst the other strategically untied the knots of lace at the front of your night gown, exposing your voluptuously full tits. Hardened nipples raw and perky, even as Aegon teasingly flicked at your tit with this thumb, a grimace forming across his handsome face you felt against your skin: kneading the swollen, plump flesh with his palm, you instinctively squirmed and moaned with such debility.

"Seven Hells, you are so fucking full, dārilaros [princess]. This babe is going to be so spoiled. Such a good Mumma, already eager with milk for the bub... Could feed the an entire realm, Mumma."

"J-Just you A-Aeg. Only you get to taste this sweet m-milk before the babe. T-Tell me how good I taste," Stuttering whimpers mottled between mouthful of moans echoed between the dense walls of Aegon's royal chambers. His fat cock still buried and plunging itself deeply inside of you, penetrating against your already tainted and filled womb, Aegon's hand cupped at your breast from beneath. Lifting your tit upwards, latching his mouth tightly against its curvature peak.

"Mhmm- Keep going big boy... M-Making me feel s-so good, A-Aeg. H-Have your full."

The imminent relief your occupied tit began to succumb to, felt like a blissful dream. You felt your breath could finally release, not hitched against your throat from the sheer agony of feeling it was about to burst. The milk you intently sensed, lusciously pouring into Aegon's ravenous mouth, his plump, moist lips suckling at your skin, totally encompassing the nipple in its entirety. His teeth lightly gnawed at your flesh, however, it was a pleasant sensation nonetheless.

"So w-warm and fresh- Gonna f-fill me up so fucking much. P-Poor princess... The weight of these, the copious a-amount- I-I'm greedy for you. Sh-Should've fucked you earlier in your womanhood... Drenching your w-womb of my seed, till we fill the keep i-if need be. M-Mother would rather enjoy it."

Aegon, famished like a destitute of the realm, bathed his taste-buds of your milk from one breast and onto the other: regaining his breath between each as he felt inclined to credit your production. Descending his face down once more, he spared no further second wasting away, as he continued to fervently feed, like a man starved of pure water.

"Th-The el-eldest you may b-be, such a b-big baby y-you are. S-So needy for me, huh? A-Always needing t-to take me, m-make me yours. Every bit of me... Is devout t-to you, A-Aegon."

As if your breathless, sensual words had struck a chord in him, a man gone mad with a fever. His hold on you had tightened, his mouth suckled deeper, tugging at the flesh of your bosom, whilst his cock felt it had grown a size more inside of you. The wet mess coating between your inner thighs now glazed all over Aegon's plump lap, expressed no denial of his power over you, the purpose he gave to you. In theory and practice, you felt your body collapsing into a bliss, a shudder of ecstasy waved through your feeble body as you screamed for Aegon, a gush of your wetness coating all over his stiff cock buried inside. Only to be met with Aegon's mutual appreciation of your vulnerability and submission towards him.

"That's it, baby. Such a beautiful woman... Gevives [beauty]. You honour me with this holy act. You privilege me to your womb, your body and your life... Skorkydoso kostagon nyke mirre deny ao mirros? [How can I ever deny you anything?]."

Easing yourself off of Aegon, your limp, frail body tiresome and relieved of such exploits endured. Aegon knew better than to leave you to your own strength, as absent as it was: carrying you over towards your empty side of the bed, still laying you closely against his natural warmth.

"Continue to serve me, brother. And I shall pay it back 100 times over... And besides, if it had not been for your mischief many moons ago, I would not be in such a state. Although, I wouldn't have it any other way, Aegon... I love you."

"Avy jorrāelan [I love you], my dearest, sweet little sister. Continue as you are and I might have to fuck another babe in you once more to teach you a lesson or two."

general taglist [bold means I could NOT tag you] - @succnfuccubus @fan-goddess @malfoytargaryen @bibli0thecary @m1ndbrand @connorsui @elegantsplendour @sylasthegrim @arcielee @s-we-e-t-t-ea @sahvlren @aemondtargaryensrider @watercolorskyy @hypnos-daughter-certified @urmomsgirlfriend1 @backyardfolklore @snowprincesa1 @zaldritzosrose

Aegon ii taglist [bold means I could NOT tag you] - @who-told-you-this-was-butter @f4ll-for-you @jawline-of-steel @daughter-of-the-stars11 @bucknastysbabe @callsignwidow

credit for divider - @/saradika-graphics

[boobearymuch]

A Promise

Summary: You locked yourself away in the bedroom after getting home, and when Zayne called you over for dinner, you took the plate to go. At that point, perhaps someone braver than Zayne would have followed you and finally talked it out. Zayne sat alone and ate in silence instead. Tags: Zayne/Reader, gender-neutral, fluff, light angst Word Count: 1.4k read on ao3 | masterlist

Careful tapping filled the tense silence of your apartment—accompanied by your occasional stomping to the kitchen and back—as Zayne typed away at his laptop. It was getting dark out, and it was usually around this hour when patient forms and research articles blurred into an incoherent mess. The doctor looked up from his screen, blinking away the strain in his hazel eyes, before glancing around. “Love, have you seen my glasses?” You don’t respond. Instead, he hears your heavy footfall in the next room until the bedroom door abruptly swings open. Zayne glances at you, and you impatiently present him with the article he’s looking for. Except, you’re holding them by the lens. Zayne says nothing as he accepts the smudged glasses. 

“Have fun reading.” You mutter under your breath and stomp back to the bedroom. Zayne simply stares at the dirty glasses for a moment before sighing and shutting his laptop. You’re angry. Still angry. Have been since your hospital visit this afternoon. And Zayne isn’t sure how to approach you, so—like a coward—he busied himself with work to avoid your ire. He managed to convince himself you needed space, that you would pout and cross your arms for a bit, but ultimately come around to see his side of things. That never happened. You locked yourself away in the bedroom after getting home, and when Zayne called you over for dinner, you took the plate to go. At that point, perhaps someone braver than Zayne would have followed you and finally talked it out. Zayne sat alone and ate in silence instead. 

He pinched the bridge of his noise and inhaled deeply. Right. 

The bedroom door creaked as Zayne gently pushed it open to find you scrolling away on your phone. You were resting, at least, like he suggested you did. “Have you taken your vitamins yet? I can bring you a glass of water.” His soft gaze never left you. 

You didn’t even glance up from your phone. “Why? Gonna tell Jenna if I don’t?” Well, then, there was no avoiding it now. 

Zayne stepped further into the bedroom. “No, but it would make your doctor feel better if you did.” You did glance at him this time, albeit briefly, to glare. “We should talk about this.”

Your nostrils flared at the statement. “Oh, so now you want my opinion?” 

“I’ve always valued your opinion.” Zayne sat at the opposite end of the bed now, and you groaned as you turned away from him. He’s never seen you like this. At least, not with him. Knowing he was at the root of your anger weighed painfully on his chest. It hurt to breathe, even. “But when it comes to your health, I am always going to prioritize your well-being. No matter what.”

“You went behind my back, Zayne.” Your voice was low, spine facing him, but he hung on your every word. “You just went ahead and told my captain I’d be taking the week off before you even told me.”

“I…regret that.” Zayne clasped his hands together awkwardly, “I should have let you known first. Listened to you.” When you said nothing, he let out a small breath, “But I am not letting myself regret making you take the week off.”

At this, you finally sat up to whirl around and huff at him. “That wasn’t your choice to make. It was mine. My choice.”

Zayne met your heated gaze with an intensity of his own. “You walked into my office half-dead and bleeding—”

“I was not half-dead, it was a concussion!”

“Well, you scared me half to death. How could I, in good conscience, just let you return to work like that?” Your mouth opened, then closed. Did you have any idea how terrified he was? “When I saw you,” Zayne paused to swallow around nothing, “My first thought was, how many more times will I have to see you like that?” His brow furrowed, and those green eyes desperately darted to the bandage on your forehead.

“It’s part of the job.” Your voice held no bite to it. Instead, you watched him as closely as he watched you now, “You know that.”

“I know that.” He repeated, “I know.” His jaw clenched, and his voice came out smaller than he expected it to, “...And what if you don’t make it to the hospital next time?” You inhaled sharply and looked away now, head dropping to distract yourself with Zayne’s bedding. “You constantly throw yourself into harm’s way, again and again, with little regard to your heart condition. Can you blame me for taking matters into my own hands?” He watched the fabric of his comforter scrunch underneath his fist. 

You seemed considerably calmer now and managed a glance at him. “...I really worried you today, didn’t I?”

“I am always worried. More than I’d like to admit.” He added softly.

The moment hung in the air for several seconds. “You could have just told me that from the beginning, you know.” You mumbled—face burning—and Zayne finally looked up, “I know I tend to ignore your medical advice, but if I had known how you were really feeling, I would have listened to you. Anything to reassure you.”

Zayne knew that already. He knew, deep down, you might agree to taking time off. But his heart reacted before his mind did; he feared the worst. If only he were better at expressing himself, this entire conversation could have been avoided. Guilt sank his shoulders. “I’m sorry.”

The bed dipped, and you were suddenly mere inches from him. He said nothing as you grabbed his hand and laid his palm flat against your clothes. Over your heart. “Do you feel that?” You whispered, eyes searching his. Zayne’s breath hitched in his throat; the gentle drum of your heart beat faster than usual, “It’s still beating, thanks to you.” Your fingers curled around his, and Zayne took the moment to ground himself. You were so warm, so alive. You were okay. “I will always make it home to you, Zayne,” Your other hand gently thumbed his cheek, “I promised my doctor I would, after all.” 

He averted his gaze, embarrassed, as a breathy chuckle left him. Zayne felt ridiculous. You were the one with a concussion, yet here you were comforting him. “Can you make another promise? To just me?”

You perked up, clearly in a better mood now, “Anything.”

He brought your hands together to clasp them in his larger ones, “Promise me,” Then he brought them to his lips, “you’ll remember I’m always here for you.”

The kiss he placed on your knuckles brought the first smile to your lips all day. “What a sap.” You murmured timidly, and averted your eyes from Zayne’s. But he didn’t relent; this was the closest you’ve both been since your argument began this afternoon. You had no idea how sorely he itched to be at your side, to be within arm’s reach of whatever you could possibly want or need. Now that the matter was settled, he had no intention of letting you slip away. 

“Rest now,” And he kissed your hands again just because he could, “I’ll grab your vitamins and make tea.” He reluctantly pulled away to do just that—and completely missed the impish glint in your eye. Before Zayne could fully stand, a swift pair of arms wrapped themselves around his neck and tugged. A grunt of surprise left him as he fell forward and braced himself just in time to avoid crushing you. Wide eyes met your twinkling gaze, and you had the audacity to laugh at his expression. “Your concussion—”

“Don’t leave me, Dr. Zayne!” You wailed dramatically, “The only vitamin I need right now is vitamin you.”

“Stop.” His ears burned hot with embarrassment before you even finished your sentence. You’ve used that line before, every time he offered you vitamins, in fact. He should’ve seen it coming, honestly.

“And why should I? You’re too easy to tease,” You laughed to yourself and brushed disheveled bangs out of his flustered eyes. Then your gaze softened, “Come here?”

Zayne hesitated. “I shouldn’t. You need to rest properly.” But your arms only tugged at his shoulders impatiently.

“I can’t rest properly unless you come closer.” Zayne sighed, but smiled down at you gently. You could read him like an open book by now, and something told Zayne this was more for his benefit than your own. 

“Just for a few minutes.” Zayne carefully lowered himself to nuzzle into the crook of your neck, arms instantly wrapping themselves around your waist, “And then you’re taking your vitamins.”

“Mhm…” Your own hands began their lazy circles across his back, one reaching up to slide into his raven hair, “I missed you, too, by the way.” He chuckled softly against your skin. 

Like an open book.

[literaila]

The way Gojo just meelllllttttssss over reader ahhh my heart can’t take it

“morning,” he whispers, in some kind of dream.

you’ve been awake for… at least a couple of minutes now. or maybe an hour. it’s hard to tell with the cheek pressing against your neck, the skin brushing against your jugular.

five years ago, you would be dreaming.

you would wake up all alone and think about things you weren’t allowed to—and then you would get up, happy to run away from that false reality.

though, now it’s here.

and maybe its just early. maybe you’ve made too much out of this, have a knack for melodrama.

but the way satoru is drawing circles on the skin of your arm, half of his body crushing you as he leans against it, makes you feel like maybe it is something.

“i’m sleeping,” you tell him, softly, even though you’re not.

“are you?”

“uh-huh.”

“so, i guess i should say a bunch of sweet things. since you can’t hear me.”

“guess so.”

you can feel him laughing against you, but you don’t open your eyes. “you’re very pretty when you sleep,” he tells you, a finger brushing against your forehead. “always scowling.”

you frown.

“see? so cute.”

“shh, satoru.”

“and you always smell nice. like.. candy, or something,” he smushes his nose against you, breathing in enough to tickle.

“that’s because you get your spit all over me.”

“have to mark my territory, baby.”

you snort, and squirm away from him.

satoru is grinning. you can feel his teeth. “and you make such interesting noises when you’re asleep, too.”

“hmm.”

“but what i really like,” he whispers, fingers trailing from your nose, down to your chin. “is when you wake up.”

satoru pauses, and you both sit there in the silence—it’s been a while since you’ve woken up like this.

maybe he can feel it too—that shift. some mornings are just different than others. some mornings you feel like you might cease to exist if he’s not right there next to you.

“‘cause then i get to hear your voice, see those pretty eyes. and i can stop saying all of this stuff because you already know…”

you hear the unspoken look at me in his voice, but you don’t.

satoru nips at your neck. “and when you wake up i can finally smell your gross breath—“

finally you turn over, pushing him away with a blind hand. “if you’re going to be a jerk, i’m going back to bed.”

he leans over you and kisses your cheek. “who’s the jerk?”

“nope. you ruined it. wake me up again in an hour.”

“c’mon, baby, you know i love your morning breath.”

you shake your head, almost falling off of the bed with the effort it takes to move away from his advances.

“aw, did i hurt your feelings?”

“as if,” you mutter, and ignore the easy way he pulls you back, moving you so he can see every flutter of your eyelashes once again.

“it’s okay,” he tells you, teasing. “i’ve got more to say so you keep sleeping.”

you almost peek an eye open, but refrain.

“i like it when you finally wake up because then i know that you’re actually here,” his voice grows soft, maybe a bit reluctant. “i used to think about this back in school.”

“you did?”

“i used to think about everything. waking up with you, going on missions, sitting in class, sparring. you’ve always been a constant distraction.”

youre still, maybe because you don’t want him to stop.

“you should ask shoko. she got tired of hearing about it, like, two months in.”

“you should get her flowers. as an apology.”

“i should, shouldn’t i? we can get you some too,” satoru leans back down, kissing right by your ear, smiling into your skin. “since i hurt your feelings and all.”

“mm-hmm.”

he breathes you in again. “i don’t think you’re real, really. i probably made this up. you know what yaga says about overactive imaginations.”

you lean into him, sighing. “i’m real.”

“are you sure?” satoru asks.

you open your eyes and he’s already looking back, smiling. so you smile too. “i’m sure. i’m right here, and so are you.”

“hey,” his eyes are wide and soft, his voice lithe and almost uncontrollable. “there are those eyes.”

[romanteacism]

Knight Aemond x Princess Reader Neglectful Jealousy

Synopsis: Ser Aemond is faced with the unsettling feeling of your ignorance, an administration of his own medicine. Warnings: None (yet), Aemond still being stubborn and in denial, ¿infatuation?, Jealousy (both sides) PREVIOUS PART / NEXT PART

You frustratingly still struck no luck in befriending or at least acquainting yourself with your knight. He had been stationed to you for a moon and a half now, but still, you hadn’t even struck up at least one conversation with him. He would only nod or shake his head; his vocabulary stuck onto two words: ‘yes’ and ‘no,’ but for the most part, he just grunts his answer or, worst yet, ignores you altogether. You were tempted to ask your brother for a new knight, at least someone whose animosity for you you could not feel wafting off him, but you felt ashamed in complaining and admitting the possibility someone holds such dislike for you. So you suffered through his silence, still trying your earnest effort for him to resemble at least an ounce of tolerance for you. 

“Cousin!” You hear someone in the gardens yell as you walk with your knight. You turn behind and smile wide as you see your cousin fast approaching. You match her pace and run towards her, Aemond following in pursuit. “What are you doing here? Did we know you were to come?” You asked excitedly, finally having a companion. “No, we are sadly just passing by on our way to the north. I am to meet my betrothed,” She smiled, but you noticed her gaze shifting to the knight with flowing silver hair who stood stoically behind you. “Cousin, this Ser Aemond— Ser Aemond, my cousin, Lady Liza,” You introduced, and your cousin stepped forward to meet eye-to-eye with your knight. “My lady,” Aemond bowed as common courtesy. 

You linked your arm with your cousin, who you noticed had been staring too fondly at your knight. “Until when are you to stay?” You asked as you two strolled along the gardens, “Just until this afternoon, my father needed to sort out a small matter with the King, and we needed to change horses as well.” She said, and you feel your excitement lower as she was only to stay a few hours, and by the sun's fall, you will be alone once more. “So soon? Why won’t you stay the night and just travel on the morrow?” You suggested, and she sighed, Liza turning her head partly to steal a glance at Ser Aemond. “That is a most generous and practical offer, but Father insists we reach the North as soon as possible, no time to be spared.” You pouted at the thought, “But let us not dwell on that; you have me for the whole afternoon; come tell me all about your line of suitors,” You blush at her words. 

Aemond went stiff at the subject proposed by your cousin, and he noticed the blush on your face. “There is not much to tell; I am still acquainting myself with them,” You say softly, not entirely comfortable with the subject. “Hm… and do you not hold a favor for any of them? Surely one holds more sway than the others,” You shook your head, unrelenting. You were to open another subject, but your cousin halted in her tracks and turned to your knight. “I would account for you being present during my cousin’s acquaintance with the other lords, Ser Aemond. Who would you say had captivated her the most?” Your cousin questioned, and you wanted to scoff because you expected Ser Aemond not to pay attention during your courtship and not answer your cousin’s query. However, you were rendered speechless as he spoke. “Lord Ashford, my lady,” he said truthfully as he had the displeasure of following you around the keep in the company of Lord Ashford the most. 

You turned to Aemond, whose gaze was on your cousin, who simply smirked up at him, an odd feeling of shock and another emotion in you that you could not express swirling in your stomach. The hour passed with you and your cousin discussing your suitors, no matter how hard you tried to alter the subject. When tea was served, it offered you a small reprieve from the topic. You picked at the candied lemons as you saw your cousin place a pastry on a cloth napkin. “Would you like some, Ser Aemond?” You hear her ask, and in your head, you can already hear the silence of Aemond ignoring her query; that is what he often did with you. “Thank you for the offer, but no, my lady,” Aemond said, his voice holding a tone of civility that was often absent when he addressed you. 

You tried to control your reactions as you sank further in your seat. How was he so polite with Liza but could not even uphold the same manners for you? You wanted to think it was because of her station, a highborn lady, but you were a princess. Should that not perhaps warrant the same degree of respect, maybe even more?

When the sun was starting to set, your cousin was already to leave. “Wait! I have a gift for you; I forgot to send it to you on your last name day; it’s in my chambers; I shall retrieve it.” You say quickly, not giving her any time to reply as you run through the halls. But as you ran, you could not account for the clink of armor following behind. You glanced at your back; your knight, who was often glued at your side, now stood in the middle of the hall chatting with your cousin. The odd sensation on your stomach returned, but now it infected your chest as well. You went to your chambers and retrieved the parcel that was meant for your cousin, returning where you had left her and Ser Aemond. You tried to hide your astonishment and perhaps even anger as you saw how freely he conversed with her. Gone was the furrow in his brows or the scowl on his lips; it was now replaced with a ghost of a smile. 

You squared your shoulders and placed a small smile on your lips as you approached. “Here,” you smiled as you handed Liza her gift, “How kind of you, sweet cousin, come, escort me to the gates?” She questioned, and you nodded. You peaked a look at your knight whose once elated presence had returned stoic the moment you arrived.  “How did you do it?” You whisper to Eliza as Aemond stays by the gates, and you and your cousin stand by the wheelhouse. “Do what?”

“Make Ser Aemond speak with you? Perhaps made him amused?” You asked quietly, watching as your cousin frowned at the rather obvious answer to your query. “Nothing, I just spoke, and he answered. Is that not how a conversation goes?” She asked; you shook your head. “I tried that, but he mostly just ignores me.” You say, low-spirited. “Hm… perhaps give him time to warm up to you; maybe it is just that,” Your cousin smiled, but that did nothing to ease the burning question in your mind. How much more time could Ser Aemond want? He had been assigned to you for almost two moons but still struggles to show at least an ounce of courtesy, but he had no trouble in showing kindness to your cousin, who he had just met mere hours ago. 

“Safe travels, cousin,” You smiled and kissed her cheek, “Thank you, and I shall see you at your wedding— hopefully it’d be sooner rather than later?” She teased, and you let out an amused laugh and a shake of your head. Stepping away from the wheelhouse and returned inside the castle. 

When a new day broke, you were still plagued by the animosity shown by your sworn protector. You thought he was simply incapable of showing cordiality to anyone, but it seemed to be that he picked those for whom he showed goodwill. 

“Princess,” Aemond greeted as always when they stepped out of your chambers every morning. He was waiting for your reply; you would often bid him good day or ask about his night and if he had found a moment of rest during his watch, but you stayed silent, momentarily confusing him. Aemond squired you through all your lonesome engagements for the day, but you uttered not a single word, confusing him even more. “Good night, Princess,” Aemond bowed as you entered your chambers as the day ended. He was once again expecting your reply, but you only ignored him, administering the same actions he did you. 

Three days had passed, and you uttered not a single word to your knight; you barely even placed your gaze upon him. He never thought it possible for you to hold your tongue for such a long period of time. He had gotten used to your babbling and him ignoring it, though he genuinely did listen; he just offered no reply. Aemond assisted you to your solarium; normally, you would leave the door open, and he would stand by it, but for the past few days, you would shut it close. Aemond is now staring at a blank wall instead of observing you as you paint and listening to you hum a tune. There was a rather bothering feeling in his gut at your avoidance and stoicism at him; he wondered if that is how you felt when he would try to ignore you moons before. 

Aemond straightened his back as a squire approached and knocked upon your door. “Princess, your afternoon tea is ready,” He bowed, and Aemond saw a glimpse of your smiling at the squire and heard a soft ‘thank you’ leave your lips. So, you can still speak, he thought, realizing further that you were truly ignoring his presence. 

Aemond stood by your side as you sat in the gardens, a book in one of your hands whilst the other held a cup of tea. Aemond stared at the back of your head, willing you to turn to him, but you kept your gaze planted on your book. At this hour of the day, you would often offer him some refreshments, but you no longer did that. Was it too forward for him to admit to himself that he had missed your concern? 

Aemond clenched his jaw as he felt and heard his stomach rumble; his last meal was last night. For once, he wished you would offer him some of the food placed before you; perhaps this time, he would not ignore your kind offer. But he had scorned you too often with his disregard. Aemond shifted in his place as his stomach rumbled once more, biting his tongue and closing his eye tightly as he tried to control his hunger. When it happened for the third time, you sighed and placed a custard tart on a plate, and raised it to him, your gaze still pointed at your book. 

Aemond was stunned at your action; he stared at the tart for a moment and felt his mouth water. He lowered his pride, took it off the plate, and hastily ate it before getting caught by any other passerby in the gardens. “Thank you, princess,” he said quietly as the food you offered sedated his grumbling stomach. Aemond heard no reply from you, only the sound of a page-turning. 

As the day progressed, Aemond still had not gotten a word from you, and a feeling started to claw at him. Guilt? Perhaps. He thought maybe he should not have been so dismissive of you, that perhaps he should not have been so overly warry of your kindness and took it for granted because now he missed it. It was hard for him to watch you be agreeable with any other person in the castle except for him. He would often watch steely-eyed as you jested with the other knights or how you would smile before the servants. And the only thing you did with him was ignore his presence.

Aemond felt determination surge him. Deciding to make you return to the way it was, with you speaking and offering kindness to him, and perhaps this time, he would not be so dismissive of you. He was not certain as to where to begin and how long it would take, but that was the least of his problems because he, after all, was your sworn protector, tasked to be by your side until his dying breath. He had a lifetime to make you like him once more. 

[penvisions]

there's a place and time {joel miller x reader}

Pairing: Younger / No-outbreak! Joel Miller x Neighbor! Reader

Summary: Moving back to your parents house wasn't part of the plan, neither was being a thorn in your neighbor's side. but you roll with the punches, and hey, he's kinda cute when he gets huffy.

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: age gap (joel is mid 30's / reader is mid 20's), angst, biting words, argumentative language, joel is a lil meanie but so is reader, grief, off-screen loss, depictions of depression, comfort, mushy stuff

A/N: this literally came out of nowhere, a random thought on the way to work and then a manic two hours of writing once i got home. this turned out a little different than first imagined, but i hope it reads well!

navigation || joel miller masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

“Why don’t you date?”

“Excuse me?” The form crouched in between kitchen counters looked up at you with a raised brow, surely mishearing the question.

“Dating, I know you know what that is.” You repeat yourself as you push your arms back to brace on the counter and hop up on it. The granite of it is cold on your bare thighs, the shorts you were wearing thrown on haphazardly when a panic stricken pair of teenagers had begun to bang on your door in the early afternoon. The words of ‘fire’ and “help!” spurring you into action where you had been napping on your couch. Now though, the oven was off, the blackened frozen pizza still on the rack and covered in foam from the fire extinguisher neither of them had known how to use. Their father had sent them upstairs, thanking you for helping them out and getting it taken care of. “Or the concept at least, yeah?”

“Don’t mean it’s any of your business, little lady.” Joel’s voice leaves no room for further conversation as he realizes you’re more serious than need be. Little quips between you two common, the unspoken understanding of not discussing the reason for your presence in the neighborhood mutual.

“I dunno, I remember you being real keen on the idea of me babysitting.” You take a sip of your soda, swiped from the fridge after everything had calmed down. “Would do you a favor now, should you need the night off for some…fun.”

“Dating and fun are two different things.”

“Dating can be fun, if you do it with the right person.”

“Yeah, and what do you know about that? Saw you move in all by your lonesome. No big, burly man helping you with your boxes.”

The fizzy drink sours on your tongue and you toss him a scowl as he stands. He’s a few feet away but you can feel the warmth of him as he stands at his full height. He’s reaching to close the oven door, the creak of metal on metal loud in the beat of silence.

“You wouldn’t know fun if it bit you on your perky ass, Miller.”

“Language, you’re in my house.” His brow furrows and he pins you with a stern look. Something you’d seen him give to his brother, his girls, the neighbor across the way when she wouldn’t take the hint that he didn’t want her dog shit in his yard.

“Old men like yourself deserve to have some fun every once in a while. They deserve happiness too.”

“Even if I did, it’s no concern of yours. Your daddy didn’t help pay for two degrees for you to end up babysitting for grocery money.”

The rebuttal on the tip of your tongue suddenly dissolved as you felt a shiver run down your spine. He’s right, you know he’s right. But you just…you couldn’t even open the envelope with the certificates let alone add them to your resume and begin the arduous task of job hunting.

“Fuck you, I was only offering to help out a neighbor.” The words are rough, rounded out with the weight of too many emotions. You shove off from the counter, abandoning your half-finished drink. A delicacy you enjoyed only over at his house, too expensive for you to indulge in as bills you never anticipated paying became your responsibility.

“I didn’t mean-“ He had the self-awareness to realize he said the wrong thing. His hands coming up from his waist to reach out for you, but you don’t look over your shoulder as you make your way through the kitchen.

“Don’t come to me if you do need someone to look after the girls. I wouldn’t take your money anyway.”

“C’mon now,” His full lips shape around your name, but you’re already out the door. Resisting the urge to let it slam shut behind you, your anger still so sharp and hot. But the girls didn’t deserve to feel it, even the echo of it in the slamming of a door. Despite being a dick, Joel was a good father to them. He’d made his home a nurturing and loving environment. You didn’t want to taint it with your stained hands.

As he stands there in his empty kitchen, the smell of burnt dough, smoke, and ammonia dizzies him as he watches you cross over his yard to yours next door. The blank expression on your face and the faint smears of dried pant all over your legs makes him regret his fast words. He had been going for teasing, but of course they had come out harsh and wounding.

You were someone he didn’t know how to interact with. So sweet and polite with the girls, with the neighbors. But you were a firecracker with him. Teasing, whipping words that rung around his head, and he recalled far too often. The little smirk that pulled at your lips as you said them, waited for his response or sputtering lack of one. His own pulled from him, making him feel like a teenager again, like a young man you hadn’t been suddenly left alone to raise a child. Like his old self, someone who stood a chance with you as you gave him your attention time and time again.

He had only ever met you through the words of your parents, the people who had once occupied the house beside his own. He had moved in with two six-year-olds just as you had shoved off to college upstate. The running joke was that it was perfect timing for him to have missed out on the perfect babysitter.

-

Graduation is supposed to be a time of celebration and proud smiles, at least that’s what everyone else got. The day you had counted down on the calendar and crossed off the passing ones as it neared was now a blur of too bright colors and phone calls with people telling you things you didn’t want to think about, let alone hear as your new reality.

A car accident, on the drive upstate. Both parents, reckless driver.

A house that had been recently paid off, left to you. Your name already on the deed, something you didn’t want to think about too hard. Close, you had been close with each of them and them as a unit. A small family but understanding. It was yours, the backdrop to your life and suddenly the two people were only memories.

The move had been quick, the apartment you shared with fellow graduate students mostly books and a beautiful desk. The bedframe taken apart to go while the shelves had been left for the next occupants.

You hadn’t shared the news with any of your roommates or friends, not wanting to taint their own celebrations and happy memories of the day you all worked so hard for. Addresses were exchanged, well wishes were meant, but of course it all faded as time had gone on. Their news of job offers and exciting dates had been good to hear, but with no good things to respond with of your own, it was hard to feel the same way about them as you once had. They reached out, worry coloring their words, which made you feel even worse.

It haunts you for days, as you seal yourself into the home that is now yours alone. The paint slathered on canvas dries and the brushes coated in it turn into hardened caps over the bristles. You’re allowing things to sit for too long, the water evaporating in the cups you use to rinse between swatches of color. The open paint tubes oxidizing and becoming unsalvageable. But you have no control.

The bed becomes damp with nights of sweat, from your tossing and turning body as the heat rises and the air conditioning that needs to be repaired is just another phone call. You don’t even think you know where your phone is. It can’t bear bad news if you don’t answer it. It can’t carry the end of your world if you don’t let it.

There’s a sharp knock on the door at some point, in the midst of the haze of days after storming out of Joel’s kitchen. You hadn’t been able to dissect the sounds of life going on outside your closed windows.

But it had, to the point where now someone was calling on you to make you return to it.

Shrugging on a robe, you hold it tight to your aching body as you push up from the bed. Bare feet sticking to the hardwood floor as the heat fills the home.

“What?” You can’t help but bark as you swing the door open, only to find a concerned Joel on the porch, with your phone in his hand.

“I found this in the kitchen, must’ve fallen off the counter in the madness of getting the fire out and callin’ me.” He holds it out to you, but you don’t move to take it. “Figured you needed it, there’s a lot of missed calls and voicemails. I may have left a few too, to check on ya. Haven’t seen you in a few days.”

“Been here, painting.”

“Okay, that’s…that’s good. Got everything you need? Food, water, someone comin’ to fix the A/C?” It’s an apology in the only way Joel Miller is capable of giving, the need to make sure someone is getting what they need, that they’re taken care of. He’s a good provider, to his girls, to his brother, to the neighborhood when he’s not beat down from long days in the sun with concrete and paint dried to his skin, with wood shavings and stain splotched on his jeans.

“No.”

“No?”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m my own person.”

Your name leaves his mouth on a sigh.

“I know that, but your parents…I know that kinda thing is-“

“I’m fine. Thanks for returning this.” You snatch it from his hand and go to close to door, not willing to hear what he has to say on the loss of your parents. For his credit, he let’s you. Knowing that you’re going through the motions, through the event in your own way. It doesn’t stop him from speaking loud enough for you to hear him through the door.

“The girls will be by with dinner later! Try to be nice to them, they ain’t me!”

-

The meal delivered by two smiling teenagers does lift your spirits a bit, even if all you do is shower and do a few loads of laundry. It’s a long process, the climb out of the hole that you had found yourself in.

Days turn into weeks, weeks turn into months. You’re back to quipping across the yard with the man. His daughters delighting in the comraderies that underlies it all. It’s the height of summer now, the girls spending time with you to try their hand at painting. Sarah is better with bursts of color that compliment each other, vaguely floral. While Ellie is better with a muted palette imposed between detailed line art.

They always thank you for the time and attention, offering to help you clean up or tidy the house in exchange for watching over them when you notice Joel’s truck is still gone from their own driveway until late. They aren’t helpless, but you know what loneliness feels like and you don’t want them to become familiar with it.

You finally open the envelope containing your degrees, the last letters from your friends and pen down long responses. The stamps cute as you drop them off at the post office, the ornate certificates framed and hung above the desk in your father’s old office alongside his own.

Joel joins them most days, mid meal if he can make it in time. Food finding it’s way into your kitchen, something you’re sure is the combined effort of two pairs of small hands and one pair of big hands. The least you could do is turn it into something for everyone involved to enjoy.

But just as things seem to progress, they fall back apart. It wasn’t over a throwaway comment this time, though, but a piece of mail delivered from a local gallery asking after your willingness to partake in an exhibit. That they expressed their deepest condolences in this trying time.

The paint dries up again, another set of brushes left to ruin. The door goes unanswered, as does the phone you can hardly stand to look at. The lights don’t glow in the windows once the sun sets, no music is heard from behind thin screens, nor the sound of you humming along to it.

The house becomes a burden once again, shielding you from the world you as you feel the loss of your parents all over again.

-

You don’t hear the door open from where you’re sprawled on the floor of the bathroom, the shower is running but you didn’t make it under the spray. You’re fully clothed, having reached down underneath the vanity for a bottle of shampoo when your fingers had brushed over something else. A bottle of your mother’s favorite perfume. The one that lingered in every room she occupied, on every piece of clothing she adorned. It was her, the perfect encapsulation of who she was.

And it was staring at you inconspicuously from the shelf. The mere sight of it tearing the wound open once again and making it hard to breath.

That’s where Joel finds you. In tears over something as trivial as a tiny glass bottle. But he doesn’t bat an eye, he’s taking in the scene and shutting off the shower in a few easy steps.

“Hey now, come ‘ere, darlin’,” He’s crouching down beside you, hands reaching for your shaking body.

He’s so gentle, so soft as he pulls you up from the tiled floor and into his chest. Leaning back against rhe now closed vanity to support your weight. One hand on the back of your head, holding it to his chest, pleading with you to match his breathing so you don’t hurt yourself.

“Datin��� is hard, you’re right.” His words make you pause, confusion crowding out the wetness lingering in your eyes. The words from a conversation long ago pulling you out of your breakdown, the casual way he continues it.

“It is.” You insist, voice small and muffled as you refuse to pull your face from where it’s pressed against the warmth of his chest.

“Maybe…. maybe you’d be kind enough to try it with this grumpy old man. I’d sure like to give it a shot with someone like you.”

“I ain’t nothin’ special. Just the neighbor girl your dead friends talked about too much.”

“They loved you, darlin’. With everythin’ they had.” He holds tight to the hand you move underneath one of his. Seeking him out, to feel his skin on your own. “You are special, those paintings they showed me, you got a gift, honey.”

“Gifts don’t mean nothin’ when you got no one to share them with.”

“You share ‘em with the girls, they loved coming over here to spend time with you. Share ‘em with me, if you want. The girls and I are in your corner, we got you.”

“You don’t…you don’t want to date me. Every boy-“

“Boys don’t know how to date, that’s only something us old men know how to do. Will you let me show you, how it feels to be taken care of and looked after? To feel appreciated and like you aren’t a hindrance on nightly plans to play fuckin’ video games?”

“I like video games,” You sniffle, voice gaining strength as the conversation goes on. He’s soothing you, even as he just sits on the floor with you in his lap, his arms around you and your body pressed up against him. It’s the most comfortable you’ve felt in months. And it’s just Joel being Joel, it’s just you being you.

“Show me, if you want. Let me get to know you, let me show you what it’s like to be loved, not just sought after for a night of fun.”

“I don’t date old men.”

“No?”

“You’re not that much older than me, so I wouldn’t really call you old.”

“Cause then you’d have to admit you’re old too, huh?” He reads the meaning behind the change of thought, as if he was in your head right there alongside you.

“Yeah, we ain’t old. Life just beat us down, but damn if it didn’t touch your perky ass.” You reach a hand down from where it’s cradled between your chests, to pinch at where his backside it firmly planted on the floor. He jolts a bit, not expecting the action. But his rumbling laugh lightens the air around you both even more so.

“You goin’ soft on me, a compliment like that is makin’ my heart pick up. Can you feel it?”

“Yeah, cause you’re a big ole sap.” You can’t help the breathy chuckle that escapes past your lips, the twitch of a smile trying to break out. You can, indeed, feel the way his heart is thudding in his chest. The truth of your words and his making you feel some of the weight lift from your own.

“You ain’t gotta clue how sappy I could me, lemme show you, huh?”

“Only if you promise it’ll make me roll my eyes and groan.” You lean back enough to see his face, the roll of your eyes up to take in his hopeful expression allowing you to know how much he means it. Your own heartbeat picks up and you swear he can feel it too, if the crook of his lips underneath his mustache is any indication.

“Only if you promise to have a smile on your face while you do it.” He leans in, nose brushing against yours. The action so soft, so welcome after the isolation you had subjected yourself to.

“Deal.” You breathe out against his lips.

“It’s a deal then.” He presses them to yours, and damn it all, but it does bring a smile to your face.

taglist: @sawymredfox @tuquoquebrute @littlemisspascal @hiddenbabynyc @jessthebaker

@joelsgreys @tonysopranosrobe @morallyinept

[wileys-russo]

off limits (7) II a.putellas x león!reader

part one part two part three part four part five part six

off limits (7) II a.putellas x león!reader

you blinked tiredly as suddenly you were whisked away from the blissful world of your dreams and slammed back into reality, the shrill blare of your alarm causing you to let out a tired groan.

hand smacking around trying to tap snooze you swore loudly and jolted even further awake as you caught your knuckles on the corner of the nightstand.

sitting up with an annoyed huff you grabbed your phone and pressed stop on the glaringly obnoxious alarm, dropping it in your lap and rubbing your face tiredly.

noticing the time and knowing when your plane was you knew if you wanted to shower and not be rushed you should get up now.

however with barcelona being unusually grey and overcast you found sleep was calling you for just a little longer, so you set an alarm for in a half hour and dropped your head back to your pillow with a thud.

you awoke with a startle what only felt like minutes later to a noise you assumed was your alarm, reaching out and smacking your phone screen tiredly, pulling yourself up to rest on your elbows when the insistent ringing continued.

with a roll of your eyes realising it was a phone call you settled back into bed and brought the device to your ear.

"hola?" you yawned, wincing as alba excitedly yelled back that they were downstairs. "now?" you realised after a beat of silence, ripping the covers off and checking the time, realizing your alarm hadn't gone off and you'd oh so stupidly set it for PM instead of AM.

"noo tomorrow chica!" the girls voice dripped with sarcasm, though hearing you unable to stifle a yawn another beat of silence passed.

"you are ready, si?" alba's tone suddenly became much more serious and you could only imagine the way her eyebrows would furror in annoyance just like alexia's would

"...ten minutes?" you questioned sheepishly, wincing as a string of angry spanish hit you like a wall. "mierda! we will cancel this uber and come up and order another one once you're ready then. apresúrate idiot!" the younger putellas huffed as you agreed and apologized.

"wait, alba who is we?" you clocked her choice of words, not given an answer as the line beeped signalling she'd hung up on you. with a shrug assuming you must have misheard you leapt out of bed and rushed around pulling on clothes, grateful you'd at least finished packing last night.

not even two minutes later and your intercom buzzed as you hopped over to it, punching in the code and letting alba up as you fought to tug on a pair of shorts without falling to the floor, startled by harsh knocks at your door.

"i'm coming i'm coming joder!" you groaned as the knocks continued impatiently, clumsily buttoning up the jean shorts and stumbling to the door, throwing it open and ducking your head to pull your hair up into a messy bun, failing to notice two pairs of shoes standing in wait for you.

"i told you what time we would be here!" alba huffed, shoving past you as you lost your footing and almost went tumbling down, an all too familiar set of hands steadying you.

you glanced up with wide eyes to meet those you knew all too well, her chocolate brown orbs clouded with something you couldn't quite put your finger on as she quietly murmured good morning and let go of you, hovering by the door.

"the uber is waiting downstairs! five minutes or alexia will carry you down there herself." alba warned as she hauled your suitcase with her, missing the way both you and your ex girlfriend cringed a little at her words.

"i thought you were ordering a new-" you started but the slam of your front door abruptly cut you off, leaving you and alexia alone as you avoided her eyes, scrambling off into your room and leaving her behind to her own devices.

alexia's eyebrows curled into a frown as she shoved her hands into her pockets, gaze roaming the apartment which had once seemed so familiar and warm, now feeling foreign and cold as she mentally took note of all the changes.

the guilt settled once more in her stomach as the reality of the last time she'd been here sank in, her heart aching a little to see almost every remainer of your time together was merely wiped away.

the polaroids of the two of you which littered your fridge, gone. though she knew you only put them out when she was coming over, your relationship a secret to anyone outside your little bubble of love.

the snow globes she'd brought you back from the world cup which normally sat proudly on the mantle, gone. you'd also rearranged your furniture which she had a sneaky suspicion would have been ingrids idea, the girl forever going on about the energy of rooms.

but what alexia wasn't to know was all the knick knacks, souvienners, photos, anything that reminded you of her was stored safely in a box under your bed. you'd gotten that box out far more often than you cared to admit, pawning through its contents with the upmost care.

you some days wanted nothing more than to destroy its contents, one final fuck you to the relationship alexia had seemingly thrown away without a care.

head ablaze with thoughts you often flicked a lighter on and off in your hand, conveniently one alexia had gotten from you during an away game in madrid where you'd tweaked your ankle and weren't able to play or travel with the team.

but you could never ever actually bring yourself to do any sort of harm to the box and its contents, so you'd shed a few tears and wordlessly slip it back under your bed, like clockwork.

out of sight but never out of mind.

you expected her to just wait silently by the front door where alba had left her, so your body locked up in surprise as strong tanned arms wound round your torso, her footsteps so quiet you'd not even heard her approach.

"i did wonder where that hoodie went." she murmured quietly as you glanced down to realise the hoodie you'd thrown on in your haste was indeed hers, an old favourite you'd been meaning to give back but again you just couldn't seem to muster up the courage despite how much some days your heart burned with hatred for her.

"alexia." you warned with a sigh, your hands on top of hers trying to gently pull them away as she only clung on tighter. "we can't." you empasized, squeezing your eyes shut.

"but-"

"no. ale the other night was a mistake, por favor i was not thinking right and i should not have agreed to go home with you." you mumbled, her arms disappearing now as you span around to look up at her with soft apologetic eyes.

"i asked you if you wanted to many times, and you still said yes. then we slept together and i thought you stayed the night but i woke up to an empty bed and i had to wonder if it was all some sort of dream, maybe even a nightmare." the older girls eyes flashed with hurt as you winced slightly.

"i know. but i was upset, you were upset, i'd just told you i was going to retire and i was in a really weird state of mind and-" "did it not mean anything to you, nothing at all?"

your stomach dropped at the way her voice was so stripped back, cut raw and barely above a whisper as she picked at a loose thread on her pants, pretending like it was the most interesting thing in the world.

"alexia please, can we not do this now? we're about to be stuck together for days and i don't want our drama to cause any problems with the group." you pleaded, swallowing the words on the tip of your tongue.

"our drama?" her voice echoed after you as you wandered into your closet, stripping yourself of her hoodie and tugging on a sweatshirt of your own. "you know what i mean." you sighed, pushing her hoodie into her hands and grabbing your carry on, making a beeline for the door.

"can we just pretend it never happened? please. i'm sorry but it was a mistake alexia." "fine, like it never happened."

the ride down in the elevator together was painfully quiet, alexia looking like she wanted to say something but using all her will not to.

thankfully in the car you had alba who didn't shut up the entire ride to the airport, alexia sat up front lost in her thoughts as the younger putellas talked your ear off.

"i didn't know jenni was coming." you mumbled to alba with a frown spotting the taller girl laughing with the group of your national team mates.

but if alba heard you she made no move to acknowledge it, slinging an arm over your shoulders and marching you toward the girls as alexia trailed behind.

you felt a strange feeling settle over you as jenni embraced alexia and kissed both her cheeks, but you knew jenni had always been like that and that she had a girlfriend of her own anyway, and you had no right over whatever alexia decided to do now.

you'd never actually seen jenni as a threat before now and you weren't sure what changed, the two of you had always gotten along well.

so trying to swallow the strange feelings and push them as far down as you could, you moved forward. it was made easier by the fact the tall spaniard was so easy to get along with, spinning you around in a tight hug not having seen you since she'd left barcelona and you stepped down from the national team.

unknown to you it was now alexia who was fighting the bitter jealousy bubbling up in her throat watching the little reuinion, clenching her jaw and turning away.

the plane you thought might be a reprise from the awkward tension of being around your ex girlfriend and her ex girlfriend who was seeming quite touchy with both of you, though of course neither of you were going to communicate the issues you were feeling even if they were the exact same.

jealousy.

but the plane was no reprise at all as of course alba all but shoved you into a seat which was right next to alexia, sandwiching you in between the two of them as you silently screamed, sending the taller girl a tight lipped smile which she returned.

you felt relief when laia, misa and jenni sat the row in front, engaging the three of you in conversation for most of the flight meaning you weren't subjected to any small talk with alexia who you assumed would still likely be feeling the sting of your rejection from this morning.

however nothing seemed to deter alba who very clearly had an agenda that didn't align with your own as exactly alike the flight you found yourself shoved into a seat next to alexia in the small van that picked all of you up from the airport to take you to the house you'd all booked.

"switch with me!" you mouthed and glared at the girl who slid into the seat next to ona in the row across from you who pretended she couldn't lip read, shrugging in fake confusion and turning to make conversation.

you snuck a glance to the older girl beside you whose attention was fixated out the window and away from you, both of you clearly trying not to touch one another as you leant your shoulders away as if you'd burn each other at a simple nudge or bump.

still a little tired from your sudden wake up call this morning you allowed the hum of chatter from your friends around you and the bouncing around of the van lull you into a much needed nap, slipping your sunglasses down over your eyes to hide the fact.

you blinked a few times as you felt your body shake side to side gently. "hey." you lifted your head and pushed your sunglasses up and off your nose, rubbing your eyes.

"bon dia, we're here." you glanced to meet alexia's amused smile, though as soon as your eyes met hers it slipped away and was replaced with a much more stoic look as she nodded for you to stand.

filing off the van you stumbled as a body crashed into yours almost taking you to the ground with them. "misa!" you huffed shoving her away with a roll of your eyes as she grinned and grabbed your bag for you.

"that was for that stupid goal!" she was now the one to roll her eyes as your lips curled into a grin and you allowed her arm to slip over your shoulders and pull you toward the house with her.

"that goal was earned, completely fair and legal." you laughed in response to the recent el classico where you'd chipped a goal over her head as she'd rushed out to collect it.

"maybe, but still very embarrassing." the keeper sighed before shoving you away from her as you continued to laugh, the two of you falling easily into conversation as you walked side by side, the taller girl still carrying your bag for you.

"that would be cute." alexia glanced up as jenni appeared next to her, suggestive grin plastered to her face as the catalan only shrugged, trying to swallow the jealousy which clawed at her throat at the sight of you laughing and messing about with misa a few metes in front.

the way you used to be with her, before she had to go and mess everything up.

"whats wrong chica? your face is so long it is hitting the ground." jenni nudged her again, raising an eyebrow as alexia brushed it off and mumbled she was fine, jenni dropping it for now with a hum of disbelief.

thankfully when it came to room arrangements it was pairs and you grabbed alba before she could utter a word, dragging her to the first room you could find and shoving her inside, kicking the door shut.

"what are you up to?" you asked her straight away with an accusatory finger pointed in her direction. "amiga, nothing!" the younger putellas shrugged with her hands raised, claiming one of the beds and sitting on the edge.

"alba." you warned, crossing your arms and scowling, knowing too well she clearly had some sort of agenda. "you and misa used to date, no?" the brunette asked, catching you off guard as you gave her a look.

"no? we hooked up once after the euros, we were just happy from the win and very drunk, it meant nothing and we never felt the need to speak about it again. we’re just friends, always have been.” you answered her after she repeated the question. "you know, sort of like you and my sister!" you reminded, speaking a little too loudly as the girl moved to crash tackle you.

"mierda shut up! nobody knows about that and its going to stay that way!" alba grunted as the two of you rolled around smacking and pinching one another like children.

the door opened and a few of the girls spilled in, a horde of spanish chatter filling the room and you groaned as they joined in piling on top of you, a flurry of limbs and hair and laughter.

"chicas! happy hour, vamos!" jenni sauntered in next with a bottle of tequila in hand and you could finally breathe as the pile of bodies on top of you began to depart.

"off!" you wheezed, pushing aitana and alba off last as the two collapsed into giggles either side of you. "that was nearly worse than the euros." you struggled to catch your breath, having scored the winning goal and having half your team jump on top of you had dampened the moment.

"probably less sweaty." "much less sweaty!"

~

the first couple of days passed by without too many issues, you steered clear of alexia as much as you could and she did the same, despite alba's best efforts to force the two of you into unconventional situations which she seemed to have roped aitana and ona into helping much.

though once half the group left to spend a little time with family before club training resumed, it became a little harder to avoid one another.

laid down on a boat in the middle of the ocean you knew you should be at your most relaxed. the drinks were flowing, the sun was shining, the water was crystal clear blue and the weight had been partially lifted from your shoulders as you knew for now what the immediate future held.

or so you thought.

starting to feel the heat prickle at your skin you shifted, beads of sweat dotting your brow as you pushed your sunglasses up and rested on your elbows, surveying the small group laid about on the deck.

"ey, swim?" you nudged aitana beside you who groaned and swatted you away, alba beside her giving you a thumbs down making you chuckle. accepting your solo fate you dropped your sunglasses onto your towel and stood properly and wandered toward the swim deck, diving off into the water, leaving your friends behind you.

surfacing you exhaled and trod water for a minute, watching the blurry figures of people jumping off the cliffs a few hundred metres away.

your skin prickling with goosebumps you dove back under one more time and swam your way over to the small swim deck just beneath the boat, pulling yourself up to sit with your feet still dangling in the water.

leaning back on your hands you closed your eyes and inhaled deeply. "hola." you jumped at the unexpected voice, not having heard anyone else join you as your eyes snapped open and alexia pulled herself up to sit a healthy distance away from you.

"hola." you murmured back, looking back toward the cliffs as a silence settled between you both, the only sound the distance chatter of your friends above you.

"will we always be like this?" you turned your head at that, frowning a little. "like what?" you dared to question, admittedly a little worried for what the answer might be. "pretending the other does not exist." there was a tiny smile behind her words, both of you clearly picking up on one anothers intention.

"or like you hate me." the smile dissapeared for that sentence and you sighed, kicking your legs back and forth. "i don't. i could never hate you alexia, i told you that already." you sighed, looking right at her as now she avoided your eyes, kicking her own legs in the water with a hum.

"can we try to be friends? we used to be, before...everything." the blonde questioned still refusing to meet your eye. "yeah, i'd like that." you answered, not really giving yourself another moment to overthink it and what that might mean.

~

turns out, it was a little easier than you thought.

you stopped avoiding alexia like she had some sort of disease and she did the same, you'd talk sometimes, normally in a group setting to ease the awkwardness of this new adjustment.

alba, ona and aitana somehow only took this as more of a green light to continue with their agenda of forcing you and alexia into increasingly awkward situations.

the most recent of which was alba 'accidentally' passing out in alexia's bed so she had to stay in alba's which was of course two metres across the room from you, that was quite the rude shock for you to wake up to that next morning.

and now you found yourself packed into a club, having had three or five too many shots forced down you and the room a little hazy as you sat back down with another drink thrust into your hand.

"hola amiga." misa chuckled as you sagged into her, sipping from your glass with a hum. "you two look cosy." jenni grinned over the top of her own drink, wiggling her eyebrows as the two of you gave her a strange look and ignored her comments.

you failed to miss a stone cold sober alexia staring at you from the other end of the table, an unreadable look on her face but clear disdain in her eyes at the way you seemed far too comfortable with the goalkeeper beside you.

luckily she didn't have to simmer for long as you were whisked away by your friends onto the dance floor, jenni grabbing a very reluctant alexia next ignoring her protests with an iron clad hold on your wrist, laia in tow pushing her from behind narrowing her chance of escape.

though you were clearly anything but sober it didn't take you long to catch onto yet another one of alba's schemes as she pulled you in for a dance, her hands a little more touchy than usual.

"are you trying to use yourself to make your sister jealous?" you asked her quietly as she ground into you, shoving her away slightly with a raised eyebrow. "no! i can't dance with you now?" alba laughed but you didn't miss the way her eyes flickered over your shoulder to clearly check if alexia was watching.

she was, of course.

the girl in question was trying desperately to contain the burning in her chest and the longing that she wanted to dance with you again. not with her other friends who spun her around and teased her that she wouldn't die if she smiled and pretended like she was having a good time.

grabbing alba you dragged her off to the side ignoring her tipsy whines as you found a semi quiet corner of the club. "stop alba!" you warned as the girl leant into the wall and gave you a confused look.

"stop what amiga?" she smiled innocently as you rolled your eyes. "you know what, we broke up alba and its staying that way. we are trying to be friends and you are making it impossible with all these awkward attempts to force us back together, so stop!" you warned again, tone much more serious as alba now rolled her eyes.

"you and alexia cannot just be friends." alba laughed, the tequila speaking more than she really was as you scoffed. "why not? lots of exes are friends." you argued, a slight slur to your own words as your drinks started to kick in.

"no they are not. you and alexia will not stay friends, i see the way she looks at you and the way you look at her. you still love her hermosa, so go and get her!" alba grabbed your face in her hands, squishing your cheeks in her fingers.

"of course i still love her but its not that simple-" "what do you love about her hm?" "albs thats not what i-" "go on! why do you still love her?" "well you don't just fall out of love with someone when you feel like you have no choice in the break up. but she left me alba, and that hurts!" you sighed, downing the rest of your drink.

"you still love me?" your head whipped around at that and your eyes widened, alba mumbling something and darting away before you could strangle her.

"can we talk outside? please?" alexia asked, eyes pleading as you hesitated but gave in with a nod, following her outside and away from the club, pausing to get stamps on your hand from the bouncer so you could get back in later.

"you wanted to talk?" you chuckled as an awkward silence fell between you two once you'd wandered a little further away, sitting down together on a table from a cafe which was long closed.

"why are we broken up?" alexia asked, neither one of you facing each other. "you know why alexia, we had the whole conversation last week. cried and hugged and then slept together, remember!" you replied rather bluntly, the buzz from the alcohol still present.

"si and then you left, without a word." alexia added on. "si because like you just said, we are broken up." "but why are we broken up?" "alexia we just-"

"no. i mean why are we broken up? i love you cariño, and you love me. i know i made a huge mistake but i don't know how else to apologize for it without a second chance to prove it." you could feel her eyes burning holes in the side of your head as you sighed again.

"alexia we just agreed we would try to be friends again, literally a few days ago!" you massaged your temple already feeling a headache coming on.

"i know but i do not want to be your friend. i want more and i know you do too and you are scared, and that is understandable but nothing worth doing is ever easy." the blonde pushed, grabbing your hands, a little surprised when you allowed her to and actually met her gaze.

"i am still retiring and i am still leaving to work for the UN in that program ale, nothing will change my mind." you stated firmly, heartbeat accelerating.

"i am not trying to change your mind amor. i want you to go, i know what it means to you and i know that you need to do this, for you." she promised, squeezing your hands gently.

"i know you will be gone for six months but planes exist, i will have breaks between games, i will make time for you. you wanted time to find peace with us, to work out how to fix things and how to go back to how we were, this could be that time and that space. but i promise you mi amor am not going anywhere while you take that time and do what you need to. i will be here when you leave and i will be here when you come back, and i will still love you every single moment in between that."

you struggled to come up with a reason to fight her on this, a reason not to crumble and fall right back into things with her like you never stopped.

her eyes bore into yours and you felt yourself slip closer and closer to the edge, your feet slipping and sliding as your legs took their own course and the ground seemed to shift only pushing you nearer and nearer to the inevitable, and then you fell.

the way her lips pressed against yours was different than the rushed messy kisses after you'd poured your hearts out to one another on the physio bench, where it seemed those were trying to scramble and rush to make up for time lost, as if deep down you both knew this was a mistake and that it could be the last time you ever really had with one another.

but this kiss was different.

your hand moved to gently clasp her cheek as her own fell to your shoulder and your hip, pulling your body flush into hers as you melted into one another.

she kissed you like time stood still at her command, lips soft and warm and welcoming, her touch tender and yet still cautious as if you could crack and smash if she pushed just a fraction too hard.

you could never deny the way she made you feel just so entirely wrapped up in love with just a simple kiss, how your head spun like a wheel and your heart swelled in your chest like someone was pumping air into it.

despite the alcohol in your bloodstream the way your head felt light and tingly was a different sort of drunk, and the way you chased after her lips again as she started to pull away just hit the nail further into the coffin that you were truly addicted to the way they tasted and felt against yours.

eventually you both allowed one another a moment to collect your thoughts, foreheads pressed together and chests heaving to catch your breath, pulled out of your lovesick haze by a rogue wolf whistle from a drunken party goer across the street.

"i love you too."

~

nine months later

"and you fly in tomorrow?" "si." "and you will text me as you are leaving and when you land?" "si." "and mami and i will come and get you from the airport?" "si." "and you are all packed?" "si." "you are feeling okay hermanita, about coming home again?" "si." you rolled your eyes at your sisters never ending prompting. "are you saying yes to everything she is asking to shut her up?" "ingrid!" "what? she is not a performing monkey maría she is probably exhausted and sad and a little stressed about coming home, and you have already asked her these things one hundred times!" "whose side are you on here? you are worried too!"

"maría do you remember how you once asked me why i spent more time with you once you started seeing ingrid? and if it was because i felt uh what was it? oh yes! jealous that someone else was 'stealing your time away from me'." you smiled, shuffling your phone to your other ear as your sister scoffed. "...i do not recall that." she mumbled. "well to answer your question i started spending more time with you once you started seeing ingrid because i wanted to spend more time with ingrid, not you!" at that you heard a roar of laughter from the norweigein and your sister and her girlfriend start bickering as the grin on your face grew, quickly muting your phone as a flight was called.

"okay love birds i will see you tomorrow. te amo mucho hermana, adios!" with that you clicked end call, cutting off your sister mid sentence and sighing in relief as your bag finally appeared on the luggage carousel.

your phone vibrating in your hand you chuckled seeing it was a message from ingrid informing she would wait until tomorrow morning to inform your sister you were in fact already home, having conferred with the older girl from the very moment you'd created this plan.

finally making your way through customs you exhaled deeply as you dragged your suitcase out into the arrivals lounge, already knowing where you needed to head as you pulled away from the hustle and bustle of reunions, tears, hugs and prying eyes.

double checking you were going the right way you pushed your sunglasses down over your eyes and grinned feeling the warm barcelona sunshine bathe your face.

you swore to yourself as your suitcase wheel broke, huffing and dragging it the rest of the way along the crossing and into the carpark.

"dios mio! so much luggage, someone might think you have been away for a long time."

the suitcase fell to the ground as you turned around, meeting her twinkling eyes and amused smile as she spun her keys around on her pointer finger, head mostly covered by her hood as she pushed her sunglasses onto her forehead.

"mm i have been on a grand adventure. i am actually waiting for my girlfriend to pick me up, she has been so miserable while i was away, praying each and every day for my safe return." you met her smile with one of your own as the blonde hummed, stopping right in front of you still spinning her keys around.

"you must be a special girl to have someone so hung up on you. funny because i am actually here to pick up my girlfriend who has been away for many months, who i have not visited, kissed, seen or touched in nearly..." she held up a finger and glanced to the watch on her wrist.

"...60 days. so 1460 hours which means 876000 minutes." the taller girl grinned, catching her keys in her palm and within milliseconds her hands landed on your hips and pulled you into a bone crushing hug as you deeply inhaled the forever familiar scent of her favourite perfume.

"make that zero days, zero hours, zero minutes and zero seconds." you whispered in her ear, her forehead pressing against yours as the two of you held one anothers embrace. "still far too long princessa, still far too long." she mumbled, having come and seen you as often as she could while you'd been away.

though the distance was hard it did allow you the time you needed to work through your thoughts, and on her third time visiting you'd made things official once again.

but the bigger picture was that it had allowed your heart and your happiness time to find purpose in something else, and so now you'd returned to barcelona with a new outlook on life and a weight lifted from your shoulders so immense you could have sworn you'd grown an inch or two without its stress.

you realised as much as you loved learning, you had quite the passion for teaching and helping and spreading that joy of learning, and so halfway through your program you'd enrolled to start university back in spain to become a teacher.

some of the coaching staff from barca had reached out to see if you'd be interested in some part time work with the junior academy, cautious in their approach not to push you back into anything to do with football too soon, but also with alexia breathing down their neck for an answer.

you'd agreed, explaining that you still loved football if you weren't in love with football, and that if they would have you then you would be lucky for the opportunity.

alexia had done her best to try and act surprised, even though your sister and her own had kept you well informed of her dealings with the coaching staff who had hardly taken much persuading to offer you the role anyway, more so surprised that you were so interested still.

"welcome home mi amor, for good."

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

i am well aware this has taken awhile! but i have written and deleted this chapter more times than i care to admit, in some endings they broke up, in some (like this one) they got together. i realised no matter what the ending would be there would always be a handful who wished for something different, so i just wrote what i wanted and not what i thought others would, as i have with every chapter of this little series. thank you all very much for reading along &lt;3

[carlsdarling]

Heated arguments

Carl and Y/N have an argument, then some make-up sex, and it gets really emotional... More of a plot, and also sex and fluff. Everyone is 18 or over. (This was requested, but the request somehow vanished from my inbox, don't know.)

WARNINGS: smut, nsfw, oral (male receiving), unprotected sex

You were just fed up. Carl's overprotective attitude, the way he constantly tried to control you and forbid you to do things, and you glared at him angrily when he scolded you for going on a supply run with Maggie and Glenn for once and then leaving them to search a pharmacy and getting surrounded by walkers. You'd wanted to search the pharmacy for a few more personal items, including condoms.

"You could have died," Carl told you, his face pale with anger, his jaw tense. "You almost died!"

"No, I wouldn't have died," you contradicted defiantly and crossed your arms in front of your chest.

"Are you kidding me?" Carl's voice pitched. "Maggie told me that there were at least a dozen walkers in the pharmacy when she and Glenn came in, and that you were stuck on top of a cabinet! If Maggie and Glenn hadn't vanquished the walkers, they would have tipped the cabinet over and eaten you alive."

"No, they wouldn't have," you replied against your better judgment. "The walkers would have given up."

Carl stared at you, stunned, his eye narrowed. "Are you really that stupid, Y/N, or are you just faking it?" he insulted you, ruffling his hair. "You know, I may not want to admit that my girlfriend has a birdbrain, but obviously she does," he stated brutally. "No one with a shred of intelligence would put themselves in a predicament like that! And then you get upset that I'm supposedly controlling you? Yes, maybe I do, but the reason is that you're stupid and reckless and can't take care of yourself!" Angrily, he clenched his right fist and punched a locker.

You flinched at his words and his outburst of anger, and you began to seethe inside. "Oh yeah, but of course Carl Grimes The Almighty is perfect! Who puts themselves in danger all the time, on purpose? You do! How many times have I told you not to go into dark stores alone to loot unimportant stuff?"

Only recently you had scolded Carl for going into an abandoned department store just to get an old CD player for you. Beaming like a child, he had presented the item to you and had been as proud as all the times before when he had taken extra dangerous actions just to be able to give you presents - perfume, jewelry, make-up, books, anything he knew you would like. No matter how many times you told him to stop, he wouldn't listen to you.

"At least I can look after myself," Carl replied angrily. "You can't. I forbid you to go on any tours without me!"

You put your hands up indignantly. "You don't have any right to forbid whatsoever, Carl! Fuck you!" you shouted at him before turning around abruptly and running off in the direction of your house.

"Fine!" Carl called after you. "Then do what you want!" Enraged, he marched off in the opposite direction, his hands in his pockets. It was true that he regularly did dangerous things himself - but only to please you and impress you. No, actually that was only half the truth. Carl's missing eye made him feel inferior to the other new lads in Alexandria, and he lived in constant fear that you might leave him for one of them. Carl couldn't bear the thought of losing you, so he desperately tried to impress and spoil you to prove to you that he was the best option for you. Even if it meant risking his life.

You slammed the door behind you in anger and even started cleaning the house in your frustration. Who did Carl think he was?

Not even an hour passed before there was a knock at the door. Standing on the threshold - Carl. You looked at him in silence. "Can I come in?" he asked shyly. Wordlessly, you let him in. "I... can we get along again?" He looked at you pleadingly and his hands were shaking, he was obviously nervous.

"Carl, you called me a birdbrain, I..."

"I didn't mean it that way," he murmured, hugging you and burying his face against your shoulder. "Let me make it up to you?"

Your body responded to Carl as it always did, and you moaned softly as he began to kiss your neck. You were like wax in his hands; you always had been, and you didn't protest as he directed you to the couch in the living room, swept the cushions down and pressed you onto the padding. "Carl, this is inappropriate, we're still in an argument," you whispered, gently trying to push him away.

"I was thinking of some make-up sex," Carl whispered back, and you succumbed to the temptation - even if it didn't solve your problems. Carl unbuttoned your blouse, unhooked your bra and soon had your jeans and panties pulled down too, leaving you naked in front of him. You couldn't wait to see him naked too and tugged impatiently at his belt. Carl stood up to hastily remove his clothes, and before he was about to lie back down next to you, you grabbed his slim hips, grasping his proudly erected dick and giving the tip some kitten licks, then slowly slid his veiny shaft into your mouth and sucked on it.

Carl's knees got wobbly, he inhaled sharply and began to whimper, then he put his hand on your head, tousled your hair and controlled the movements of your mouth. "Oh yes, please," he whispered breathless with arousal. You cupped his balls with one hand and rubbed them while you continued to slowly suck Carl off. Some precum leaked out of his cock and you swallowed it before suddenly withdrawing from him, eliciting a sound of disappointment from Carl. His dick glistened with your saliva as he lay on top of you without further foreplay, gently forcing your legs apart and thrusting into you in one smooth motion. You were more than ready for him and moaned out, your hot, soaking wet walls clenching around his cock. Carl's heart was beating right next to yours as he fucked you with skilled movements. You buried your face in his neck curve, kissing and nibbling his pale skin, while Carl's long hair tickled your face and you inhaled his scent, which intoxicated you as always - the typical, unique Carl scent that made your hormones go crazy.

You lifted your hips. Carl's cock slid in and out with a steady rhythm, and he breathed heavily, again and again he let out those small, adorable moans that turned you on even more. You stroked Carl's back, completely overwhelmed by your feelings for him, it was just you and Carl and your lovemaking, and your whimpering grew louder.

"You cumming?" Carl looked at you, little drops of sweat standing between his eyebrows.

"Carl, oh yes, Carl," you moaned, half senseless with lust. Carl was delighted as always that he was the reason you felt so good, and he would make sure you cum before he did. He withdrew from you almost completely, then slowly penetrated you again, again and again, until you were on the verge of madness. "Oh my God, Carl, you're so good." The orgasm came over you so hard it felt like your head was going to explode , and Carl noticed a new gush of slippery hot moisture welcoming his cock. He quickened his pace, his moans became louder and louder, his thrusts harder and more irregular, then he tensed up, all his muscles tightened, and he had his release right inside your pussy.

Carl stayed on top of you for a while, both of you sticky with sweat and body fluids, and you pressed against him. You two didn't speak until Carl finally pulled his dick out and lay down right beside you. "Are we... good with each other again?" he asked shyly.

You frowned. "The fact remains that you called me stupid, Carl," you said icily.

Carl winced with guilt. "I didn't really mean it. I'm sorry," he whispered glumly, and when you didn't respond, he reached for his jeans, which were lying on the floor next to the sofa, and fished out a necklace with a pendant in the shape of a glittering jaguar. He attempted to hand you the necklace. "Here, I found this when I was scavenging, and I thought..." He seemed anxious.

Anger welled up in you, and you slapped Carl's hand away; the necklace whirled through the air and landed on the ground. "Tell me, don't you get it?" you snapped at him. "I don't want you to keep getting unimportant things for me! You put yourself in unnecessary danger every time! For bullshit like a fucking necklace! And don't tell me you found the necklace by accident!"

Carl blushed and lowered his gaze. "You're right, the jewelry store was full of walkers. It... it's just... well, it's just that..."

You looked at him inquiringly. "It's - what, Carl?" you asked in a softer tone.

Carl struggled with himself, then it all burst out of him. "It's just that there are these new guys in the community, and I can see them staring at you - and at me, with my ruined face. I... what else can I do but go the extra mile to make sure you stay with me? To make you like me? I don't want to lose you, Y/N." Carl's lower lip quivered slightly.

Carl's words touched you and made you sad. He was so insecure about your affection for him that he felt he had to shower you with gifts and attention - even if it meant putting his life on the line. It took you a while before you could answer. Carl didn't look at you, he stared at the ceiling, a single tear trickling from his left eye. It flowed down the side of his cheek and dripped onto the sofa cushion, leaving a dark stain.

"Carl," you said, shocked. "Do you really think I feel so little for you? That I'd leave you for another guy if you didn't make an extra effort to please me all the time? No matter if you risk your life in the process?" You couldn't believe it.

Carl was crying now, and it was the first time you'd ever seen him cry, and it distressed you even more. "I... before those boys came, I was the only one here your age, and... and I was scared that you were only with me, because I am the only option." He sounded bitter. "But now that Ron and Benjamin and Spencer and the other lads are here, well... you have a choice, and why on earth would you pick me?" He sounded completely despondent.

You were completely gobsmacked, and you hugged Carl tightly. "You fucking idiot, you," you said tenderly, brushing his dark hair out of his face and kissing him; his tears tasted salty. "I didn't get together with you because you were the only option, but because I fell in love with you, eye or no eye. And I would never exchange you for another guy. And I don't want you to put yourself at risk to impress me ever again, because I couldn't bear it if something happened to you. Carl, I love you more than anything. I love you for who you are"

Carl looked at you, his eye puffy and red. "Really?" he whispered, smiling at you. It took a load off his mind. You felt him finally let go of his worries and his body relaxed.

You nodded. "Please don't ever do that again," you urged him, pointing to the necklace. "Promise me."

"I promise," he said quietly and stood up for a moment to pick up the necklace from the floor. "But I can still give it to you, can't I?" He grinned mischievously. "It's already here."

You rolled your eyes. "All right," you admitted defeat. Carl put the necklace on you and cuddled up to you again. "I love you, Y/N," he whispered happily, wrapping his arms around you.

--

Tags: @knochentrocken0808 @tessasweet @xxcarlswifexx @taylormarieee

[cobaltperun]

Tara Carpenter x G!pMasc!Fem!Reader (Masc like in Lost🤭)

Tara and R share a magical prom night together, dancing under the stars and stealing kisses in the moonlight as they celebrate their love and friendship.

Tara in a nice dress (You should decide what color she wears)

R wears a black tuxedo with black shirt underneath, R also gives T a big bouquet of... (you decide again)

Can I request smut at the end!?😭 like T gives R head then they have sex for the first time? Don't ask me where!

It's okay if you don't want to, still appreciate it! Thank you!

Moonlight Dance

Bottom Tara Carpenter x Top G!P Female Reader (Request) (SMUT - minors do not interact!)

Masterlist

Word count: 3.1k

The contrast of colorful flowers, white and red carnations and pink tulips, combined in a beautiful bouquet and you behind it, dressed in all black, an incredible tuxedo and a black shirt underneath fitting your form as if they were tailor-made for you made Tara swallow, hard. Damn, maybe you should just stay inside, but she was dressed up as well, wearing a rather cute, baby blue dress with open shoulders and back, and she was very curious about the surprise you prepared for her.

“You look beautiful,” you whispered, watching her in awe and Tara blushed, smiling shyly.

She placed a hand on yours and moved the flowers out of the way. “You too,” she got on her tiptoes and pulled you down into a kiss, her body fitting perfectly against yours. You tried to keep the kiss soft, tender, but she parted her lips, pressed her tongue against yours, demanding more, needing more. She groaned into the kiss, feeling your strong arm wrapping around her, your tongue against hers, as her fingers ran through your hair.

When you parted for air, she just hugged you, buried her face in the crook of your neck and sighed contently. You always made her feel loved, cherished, safe, since the two of you met, she’s been drawn to you. And the two of you would leave Woodsboro together, as soon as possible. Everything was almost ready.

And the first step? Having a prom night away from the school, alone, celebrating without the noise and crowd of everyone else graduating with the two of you. “We should probably get going,” you whispered, though you kept hugging her.

“One more minute,” she nuzzled closer to you and smiled as you just nodded.

It was longer than a minute, but neither of you complained, basking in each other’s presence. But she did eventually accept the flowers and left them in a vase inside her room. And then you led her to a rented car, opening the doors for her and bowing slightly. Tara laughed, it was a bit of a joke she actually started, as she held the doors of a coffee shop open for you the first time the two of you went out, even if it was just as friends back then. Since them it turned into a bit of a ritual, where either one of you would hold the doors for the other.

“Thanks,” she still said as you closed the doors when she sat down.

“Always,” you said and leaned through the open window to kiss her quickly.

The drive was pleasant, and luckily not too long, about half an hour until you reached a secluded area. Tara was speechless, taking the beauty around her in. Clear, starry skies, with moonlight casting a magnificent reflection on the lake. And the trees around it, almost looking like they were dancing in the light breeze. And the clearing you took her to, right next to the lake looked like it was framed by it all. You took a bag from the backseat and offered her your hand. And of course, Tara took your hand, letting you lead her to the middle of the clearing. You lowered the bag and took out a music player. You let the music fill the silence and the two of you began dancing to the tune, swaying lightly in each other’s arms.

Tara couldn’t wipe the smile off her face as she occasionally lifted her head up and kissed you, just soft, gentle kisses, under the moonlight. The time became the least important thing in the world, all that mattered was this moment, the two of you, cherishing your love, celebrating it and the future ahead of you.

“I love you so, so much, Y/N,” she told you as she looked you in the eyes.

“I love you too, Tara,” you lifted her up, easily, yet with gentleness no one but her got to feel. You were gentle with other people as well, but Tara just pushed that gentleness to a whole new level, and she adored that wholeheartedly.

Eventually the night did have to come to an end, and you drove her back to her house. “Come on in,” she basically dragged you inside, both of you still laughing, too happy to contain it, especially since there was no reason to hold back. She had the house to herself. As she closed the doors behind her she tugged on your hand. She leaned against the doors as the two of you kissed, pulling you closer to her. Gentle kisses giving way to passion as she felt your hands holding on to her hips, both of you worked up and finally in the privacy of her home.

“Y/N,” she sighed, leaning her head back with a moan as your lips trailed a path from her chin to the side of her neck, sucking slightly. You gave her your tuxedo jacket, since it was a bit chilly outside by the time you were about to head home and she grabbed onto your collar, unbuttoning the first couple of buttons of your shirt. “Fuck, I need you,” she was desperate for you, desperate to feel all of you.

You pulled back, looking her in the eyes. “You sure?” you asked her tenderly, leaving no doubt in her mind that if she said she wasn’t sure, or that she wanted to stop, now, or at any point that you’d stop in an instant.

She cupped your cheek. “If you’re ready, I’m ready,” she needed you, but she would wait as long as she had to, until both of you were completely sure and ready to take that step.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, the nerves nearly getting the better of you. Was this good enough for Tara’s first time? Was it special enough? You worried about that, but you also knew there was no way to create an absolutely perfect circumstances for your first time together. Knowing that did little to help you calm down, but you knew you loved her, that you wanted and needed her. “I love you,” you said, kissing her once more as she kissed you back, and you heard the front doors being locked before she jumped into your arms.

“I love you too,” she told you, a bit breathless, and with a dark blush covering her beautiful face. And that was all you needed to hear as you went up the stairs to her room. And there, in her room, lit only by moonlight you were ready to make love for the very first time.

Your jacket fell off her shoulder as you lowered her down on the bed, kissing her bare shoulders as she unbuttoned your shirt and pulled it off of you. You felt her hands trembling as she touched you, exploring your upper body and you felt the same as you tugged the dress down, releasing her beautiful breasts.

“Shit, Baby,” she moaned as you kissed her nipple, just teasing the already hard and sensitive bud before wrapping your lips around it. It was a familiar territory, hot make out session where you’d both be naked from waist up, you just never took it further. She pushed the dress lower, all the way to her hips and you helped her get it off the rest of the way, stripping her down to just her panties.

And you pulled back, watching her with unconcealed lust in your eyes as your pants got a bit too tight for comfort.

“Y/N,” Tara sat up, the tip of your finger sliding down from your neck, between your breasts to your pants, where she hooked it around your belt loop. “Let me have some fun and then this,” her other hand slid down her body, to her panties, and she pushed them aside, revealing her already slightly wet pussy. Tara gasped, spreading her lips with her fingers. “-is all yours,” she promised and guided you until you were sitting on the edge of her bed.

You grinned and pulled her onto your lap and she grinned back, pressing her body against yours. She kissed your neck, hands roaming all over your body, your sides, your back, your breasts, as she grinded against you. “Oh,” she sighed as you placed your hands on her hips and pushed her lower, until her pussy was grinding on the bulge in your pants. “Fuck, you’re hard,” she hissed, and you could feel her wetness slowly seeping through her panties onto your pants.

“Tara,” you leaned your head back, breathing heavily as she dragged her lower lip to your ear and bit gently. “Damn, you’re wet,” you couldn’t hold back, you slipped one of your hands into her panties from behind, the tips of your fingers finding her pussy and rubbing gently making her gasp in your ear.

“Uh, uh, right there!” she pushed against your fingers, clinging to your shoulders and kissing you, deeply, passionately, her tongue deep inside your mouth as you sucked on it. You kept kissing like that, the tips of two of your fingers teasing her entrance as your other hand moved up to her back. Your kisses grew shorter, the need for air getting stronger as your arousal built up until Tara surprised you and dropped to her knees.

She unzipped your pants and you raised your hips, letting her pull them down along with your boxers and the relief was immediate as your hard cock sprung free. Tara got comfortable between your legs and with a teasing look in her eyes dragged her tongue up your shaft.

Your breath hitched as you looked at her, your cock throbbing as she teased you, taking her time with each lick, her fingers caressing the other side of it. You clenched your fists around the sheets and closed your eyes. “Baby,” Tara moaned, right against the tip of your cock and placed her free hand on top of yours. “Here,” she brought one of your hands closer to her and kissed your palm before sucking your thumb in her mouth.

You had no idea how you didn’t cum right then and there, with Tara stroking your cock, rubbing the tip with her thumb each time she reached the top and looking at you like with your thumb in her mouth and a string of saliva dripping from the corner of her lips. You moved your hand to the back of her head, your thumb gently caressing her cheek as she smiled and swirled her tongue around the tip of your cock before taking several inches into her mouth.

Tara moaned, the vibrations making you clench your jaw as she stroked the part of your cock she wasn’t sucking on. She watched you, your face, your eyes, pupils blown and a lustful haze clearly visible in them. She listed to your moans, some louder, some more restrained, and she let her free hand touch and bit of your muscular body, burning the feel of your muscles flexing under her touch and relaxing into her memory. “Cum for me, Y/N,” she said as she released your cock from her mouth, swallowing a bit of your precum before she continued sucking on your hard cock.

“Just a bit more,” you hissed, your fingers in her hair twitching, you weren’t clenching your fist in her hair, or pushing her lower on your cock, you just held your hand there, gentle, loving, consumed by passion as you forced your hips to stay still instead of fucking her mouth. She felt your entire body tensing. “Tara, I’m about to cum,” you told her, and she just hummed, swallowing it when you came a few moments later while moaning her name.

She kissed the tip of your cock and got up pushing you to lie down on the bed as she kissed your abs, between your breasts, up to your neck and finally pressed her forehead against yours while you were catching your breath. “I can’t wait to have that huge cock deep inside me,” she whispered in your ear, grinning when she felt it twitching against her thigh. “Does it turn you on, that we are each other’s first?” she hummed, only to squeal happily when you abruptly switched positions.

“Not as much as,” you spread her legs and slid your finger through her folds only to lift them up and show her just how wet her pussy made them. “being your second, third, tenth,” you sucked your fingers clean and she wrapped her legs around your back as you began lavishing her body I kisses and caresses. Your hands massaging, squeezing, gliding over her sides and occasionally moving to her breasts, tracing circles on her areola but avoiding her nipple. “Your hundredth time and every time after that,” you nibbled on her breast, your teeth teasingly nipping her sensitive nipple and she cried out, her pussy quickly getting even wetter than before.

You kept playing with her, bringing her so close to her orgasm without touching her pussy again, just by focusing on the rest of her body, on her breasts, on her neck, her thighs, her lower back. “Lower, please,” she pleaded, needing the release only you could grant her.

And you did, she felt you smirking as you slid her drenched panties down and gently spread her pussy so you could lick her from her opening all the way to her clit. Tara cried out, her hands immediately going to your head and pulling you closer as her hips rocked against your tongue. “Y/N, Y/N, ugh, oh fuck!” she exclaimed, her head falling back onto her pillow as you pushed two fingers inside her all the while licking her exposed clit. And then you began sucking on it and she was gone, completely at the mercy of an orgasm she couldn’t stop even if she went crazy and wanted to stop it.

Tara cried out, her pussy clenching around your fingers, her hips twitching as she came, and you released her clit to lick her gushing pussy. “You’re so good for me, Tara,” you praised her, watching as her walls clenched around nothing the moment you pulled your fingers out. You were hard once again, but you wanted to give her time to recover.

“Nightstand to your left, bottom drawer, beneath a notebook,” she gasped, her breasts rising and falling with each deep breath she took. And you nodded, following her instructions and finding condoms there. “I knew this would happen sooner or later,” she grinned as you sent her a teasing smile and put a condom on your cock. You found a bottle of lube and just to make it as pleasant as possible for Tara you applied a bit of extra lube to the condom.

You kissed her on the lips and put a pillow beneath her lower back as she hugged you tightly. “I’m ready, take me,” she assured you as you rub the tip of your cock against her pussy before slowly pushing into her. Her pussy spread around you, engulfing you in her warmth and you leaned your forehead against Tara’s shoulder while her fingers dug into your back.

“Tell me if it hurts,” you said and felt her nodding. You pulled back a bit then pushed further inside her, repeating the process a few times, each time pausing and letting her adjust. And you never felt her reacting in pain, in fact, she kissed your cheek several times, humming as you pushed into her completely.

“So big,” she whispered, more to herself than to you as you just remained like that, waiting for Tara to get used to feeling your entire cock inside of her. “You can move,” she encouraged you. And you did, you began slow and gentle, steady as she wrapped her legs around you and kissed you, her mouth opening as your tongue slipped inside. Tara moaned, slowly starting to meet your thrusts.

“So damn tight,” you groaned, feeling her pussy gripping your cock, and you were thankful she was as wet as she was. The sound of your thrusts, her wet pussy taking your cock, her moans and whimpers right next to your ear, her bed creaking beneath the two of you, you were getting lost in it. You dared to open your eyes and pushed slightly away from her, your bodies covered in a thin layer of sweat and glistening in moonlight, her flushed cheeks, breasts bouncing slightly with each thrust. She was mesmerizing, her lips swollen from countless kisses, soft and rough, you shared ever since you picked her up hours ago. Her lipstick smeared, hair completely disheveled, and she looked so beautiful, just taking your cock.

And as captivated by her beauty as you were, you sped up, thrusting harder into her, going faster and spurring Tara to moan louder. “Just like that!” she whimpered, crying out as you lowered your hand down and began rubbing her clit with your thumb. You fucked her just like that, hard and fast for several minutes, her pussy squeezing you mercilessly. “Y/N!” she shouted your name, her back arching as she came again, gushing around you, and you had to bite your tongue to hold back just for a bit longer. Just so you could fuck her through her orgasm. You kept thrusting into her, slower, gentler now that she came that hard, just enough to make her feel that good for a bit longer, and then you could no longer hold back, and you pulled out, stroking your cock a few times and filling the condom up.

You dropped down next to Tara and chuckled as she snuggled close to you. “You were amazing,” you kissed the top of her head, exhaustion slowly creeping up to you.

“You too, what was your favorite part?” she asked, just as tired as you were.

“The part when we were making love,” you grinned, and it only widened when she jokingly smacked you on the abs.

“That was all of it,” she pouted, prompting you to peck her on her lips.

“Yours?” you asked, laughing as she blushed and looked down.

“All of it as well,” she admitted sheepishly, grinning as you began laughing even harder.

“See,” you hugged her close and pulled her covers over the two of you. “Let’s just rest for a few minutes,” you sighed, too content to move right away.

“Yeah,” Tara yawned, already close to falling asleep in your arms.

A/N: Right... I kinda feel like I should have given more time to fluff 🤣🤣🤣

[amirasainz]

Hi literally get so excited when you update! Can you write one where charles x alexandra x reader where charles and alex are away for an event and forget that it's the reader birthday ans only remember when someone tells them birthday it and they try and make it up to her.

Hi loves. I hope you enjoy this little piece. Let me know what you think. Comments are always apreciated!I'm sorry,but the Sydney Sweeny picture was perfect, so I had to include it😉

Also, question (and please answer me that in the comments), does anyone read what I write before the story? Like the little message here? I'm just curious❤️

Enjoy reading and send me requests!!❤️

-XoXo

The Birthday disaster

You couldn’t believe it. They weren’t here. They didn’t call, text, or even send you a freaking letter. Your own boyfriend and girlfriend forgot your birthday. And not just any birthday, it was your 21 birthday. Instead of celebrating with Alex, Charles, and all of your friends in a vibrant club, you were sitting on the balcony of your apartment. Despite the cold wind hitting your bare skin mercilessly, thanks to the cute short dress you wore today, you couldn’t bring yourself to walk back inside.

Of course, your friends tried to get you to come out with them to celebrate your birthday properly. But it just hurt too much, and to be honest, your mind was too tired and sad for any kind of festivity.

When Charles and Alex first informed you about the event hosted by one of Alex’s friends, they eagerly asked you to join them. Unfortunately, your job didn’t allow you to tag along, which both of them understood. However, they promised you that they would return today at around 5 o’clock. To be honest, you thought they had something special planned for your birthday. But last night, at around 11 pm, you received a text from Alex, informing you that they would be staying longer in Venice, where the event was held.

At first, you thought this was some kind of joke. Maybe they wanted you to think that they weren’t able to celebrate with you, only to surprise you with a birthday party. But sadly, when you woke up this morning, nothing happened. Throughout the day, there was complete silence between you and them.

Your group of friends, who had been with you a few hours ago to at least celebrate your birthday a little bit, tried to convince you to go out and party with them. Before you could agree, you got a notification from Instagram. You were tagged quite often in a post showing Alex and Charles at the event. They looked so happy and carefree, making you feel even more numb.

Despite their best efforts, your friends left after half an hour, after you reassured them with phrases like “Yes, I will take care of myself,” “Yes, I will call you if I need anything,” and “No, you don’t have to worry about me. I’m completely fine.” They knew you were anything but fine; however, they also knew that you needed to be alone right now.

So here you are, sitting alone in the cold with your only companions being the vodka bottle you brought with you and the relentless wind hitting your skin. “Happy fucking 21st birthday to me, I guess,” you muttered to yourself, staring out at the sea.

“Oh my god, Lisa. You truly outdid yourself,” complimented Alex, her friend. And it was true. The event was filled with beautiful flowers and lights, giving the room a fairy-like appearance. The soft glow of the lights reflected off the petals, creating a magical ambiance that made everyone feel like they had stepped into an enchanted garden. Charles, who stood next to his girlfriend, only brought her closer to him and said, “Yeah, I have to agree. I’m 100% sure YN would have loved it.” “You are so right, love. I wish she was here with us,” agreed Alex, her voice tinged with a hint of sadness.

“Wait, I’m confused. So there is nothing wrong between you guys and YN?” asked Lisa, her brow furrowed in confusion. Alex and Charles shared a look with each other, both of them equally puzzled. “No, why would there be anything wrong with us?” Alex replied, her tone defensive. “Oh, I just thought you had a fight and this is the reason why you are here and not with YN today. But I must have been wrong…” Linda’s voice trailed off, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. She shared a look with her partner Mary, both of them realizing the gravity of the situation.

“Wait, stop. Pause. Why would we be with YN tonight? You invited us to your event and we are here. I don’t get what’s going on right now,” said Alex, her frustration mounting. It felt like Mary and Lisa knew something she and Charles didn’t. Mary, who was now also becoming more annoyed with how the two of them acted before them, didn’t take any nonsense from Alex.

Without hesitation, she looked straight into Alex’s eyes and told her with an ice-cold voice, “Well, we weren’t expecting you to show up today because we thought that you would be busy celebrating YN’s 21 birthday today. But from the looks of it, it seems like you forgot your own girlfriend’s birthday. So don’t talk to us with that rude tone of yours. At least we remember each other’s birthdays.” With that, Mary took Lisa by the hand and left, leaving Alex and Charles standing there in stunned silence.

Alex and Charles were left behind, both staring at the space where the couple used to be a few seconds ago. Both of them felt a wave of guilt and shame wash over them. How could they forget their own girlfriend’s birthday? Turning on their phones, they saw the flood of messages they had received from not only their fans but also their friends, YN’s friends, and their families. Each message was a painful reminder of their oversight.

“We messed up so badly,” muttered Charles, looking at Alex with a pained expression. The woman could only nod, still speechless. Charles took her arm and gently but firmly led her out of the room. “We have to go to her. ASAP,” Alex told Charles, who was already a step ahead of her and had their jackets in hand. With that, the couple left the event, both feeling a deep sense of remorse. How could they forget their girl’s birthday?

As they hurried to their car, Alex’s mind raced with thoughts of how to make it up to YN. She knew it would take more than just an apology to mend the hurt they had caused. Charles, too, was lost in his thoughts, thinking of ways to show YN how much she meant to them. They both knew that they had a lot of making up to do, but they were determined to do whatever it took to make things right.

At around 1 am, the couple finally arrived home. The ride back had been silent, the air in the car feeling oppressively thick, making it hard to breathe. They parked their car in the garage and, without hesitation, jumped out of the vehicle, racing towards the elevator. The few minutes it took to reach their front door felt like an eternity, each second stretching painfully.

When they entered the apartment, everything was shrouded in darkness. A figure sat on the balcony, barely visible in the dim light. Charles immediately sat next to YN, while Alex kneeled in front of her. YN didn’t even look at them before taking a gulp from the nearly empty bottle of vodka. “Hey love, I think you’ve had enough for tonight,” whispered Charles, gently trying to take the bottle away from the now 21-year-old girl.

YN shook her head, her voice trembling as she reminded them, “No. NO, you do not get to tell me what I can and cannot do. Not after you forgot about me.” “Baby, we didn’t forget about you,” Alex tried, her eyes already filling with tears. YN only laughed, her own tears streaming down her face. “No, Alexandra. You do not get to tell me that after you forgot my birthday, and you certainly don’t get to cry.” “Ok, let’s all calm down,” Charles attempted again, his voice soothing but firm.

“No Charles! I don’t want to calm down. You both forgot about me. You two promised me that something like this would never happen to us. You promised me that you would always love me. You promised me that the age gap didn’t bother you when we started dating when I was 19. But look at us. You already broke one of your promises. How can I be sure that you won’t break another one?” With that, YN broke down in tears. Her whole body shook with the force of her sobs, her head held in her hands.

Charles and Alex immediately moved to comfort her. “YN, breath. We are so freaking sorry. I guarantee you, we didn’t mean for something like this to happen. We were all so busy with our jobs and social lives that we didn’t mean to forget something so important,” Charles began, his voice filled with regret.

Alex took YN’s head into her hands, gently wiping away her tears. “We love you more than anything in this world. You are our air and our heart. And we will apologize for the rest of our lives if we have to,” she said, her voice breaking with emotion. YN only whispered, “I love you guys too.” Alex didn't hesitate before kissing her girlfriend. after a moment the they pulled apart.

Charles turned her face towards him, speaking softly, “And we didn’t lie when we told you the age gap didn’t bother us. And we certainly didn’t lie when we promised you that we would always love you, ok?” After YN nodded, Letting Charles also kiss her. This kiss was filled with as much love as Alex, just a bit more urgently but still gentle. After their kiss, the three of them cuddled close to each other, finding solace in their shared warmth.

It would take some time before everything was alright between the three of them again. But for now, sitting together and watching the city lights flicker in the distance was the perfect way to start healing.

[authorhjk1]

The Roman Goddess (part II)

Sana X Male Reader

The taxi ride to her hotel feels like it's taking hours. Her white top still shows hints of your last moment alone. Since then, the two of you met not a lot of people. Only a couple of oblivious visitors and the taxi driver.

The later was staring at her for a couple of moments as the two of you got in. It wasn't your place to say something, she is married after all. But you can't really blame him.

Even after you just had her kneeling half naked in front of you, you still glance at her every two seconds.

You still feel like you are dreaming. How you managed to pull it off still remains a mystery to you. Or maybe she was looking for someone anyway? And you were just the first guy to hit on her?

Maybe. And even if that's the case, you don't really care. As long as she is taking you to her hotel room, you don't care why she is doing this.

"What's your name by the way?"

The taxi driver's radio is too loud for him to understand what the two of you are saying. Italian words echo through the car.

The young woman raises an eyebrow.

"Now you are curious? After you came on me?"

You feel your cheeks heating up, but you see how the left corner of her mouth moves upwards a little.

"Y-You asked me to."

She tilts her head as if she is trying to recall the scene in the museum.

"You sound like I forced you to do that."

Somehow she did. Or at least her body. Who wouldn't want to cum on her chest? Especially if she says she wants it?

"So?"

You brake the silence after a couple of moments. Although it's anything but quiet in the car. As far as you can tell, the driver is listening to a soccer game.

"I'm not sure if I should tell you."

"I just came on your chest. Shouldn't you trust me by now?"

You see her smirking, intrigued by the way you used her words against her.

"I won't tell you my name. Just in case."

She finally turns her head towards you, a mischievous sparkle in her eyes.

"Just call me Venus."

"Venus?"

You can't help but chuckle.

"Didn't we already establish that you are like Aphrodite?"

'Venus' shrugs her shoulders. An elegant gesture coming from her.

"You said that Venus was more important."

You nod quietly.

You feel out of place. You've never been to such a hotel before. Everything looks expensive. The white marble floor, the cedar wooden reception desk, the golden elevator doors with pretty engravings.

The lobby just looks insane to you. But Venus just walks through the big hall, her head raised high, her confident stride makes her heels klick on the floor.

Trailing behind her, you see how well dressed everyone is. It's not like your outfit sucks, a simple white shirt and jeans, but the other guests are wearing suits and dresses.

"Mrs. Minatozaki."

The receptionist greets her, handing her the key for her room. Her name sounds Japanese.

"And this is a package that just arrived. It's for you."

"Thank you."

Venus, or Mrs. Minatozaki, takes the small box and walks towards the elevator. You follow her, trying not to draw too much attention to yourself.

As soon as she throws the package on the bed, she turns around. You tried to see what her room looked like, or rather suite, but her intense gaze makes you focus on her.

"Come here."

She whispers, slinging her arms around your neck. You lean down, meeting her halfway as the two of you start to indulge into each other's lips.

You realize that your hands once again are exploring her body. As if you can't get enough. Her curves feel so good underneath the fabric.

"Fuck, your lips taste so good,-"

You catch her pause.

"I need a name for you too."

Her lips leave yours, before they kiss your cheek, moving towards your neck.

"Any suggestions? It should fit mine."

It's hard to concentrate, when you have a woman like Venus kissing your neck. Impossible even. But you luckily know your way around Roman mythology.

"Mars."

You feel one of her hands slide down your back.

"Mars fits the theme."

"And who is that?"

You don't know if she is pretending or not, but you feel her hand reaching your crotch. Yours are on her waist. Still amazed by how small it is, you try your best to explain.

"The Roman god of war. And agriculture."

You feel her chuckle into your neck.

"That's an interesting combination."

"Well,.. "

You can't stop it. Your history nerd side comes back to life. Despite the fact that Venus is slowly letting her fingers glide over your jeans.

"That combination is a characteristic of early Rome. Military and farming both have their peak during the summer. It makes sense to me."

You feel her bite you skin slightly.

"Are you gonna keep talking? Or do you want to fuck?"

"T-The second one."

"Me too. Mars."

She whispers, before backing away.

It feels weird to be called by a name of a god.

"Give me just a minute."

Venus takes the package and disappears into the bathroom.

Standing alone, you are not quite sure what to do. Take your clothes off? Stand in place? Get on the bed?

Your eyes roam the big room as you realize how much this must cost. Hundreds. Maybe even a thousand a night or something.

Even the bed looks like the best you've ever seen. It's almost three times as big as yours. Golden ornaments are decorating its wooden bed frame.

You decide to get rid off your clothes. A moment later you are lying on the soft mattress, only in your underwear. Then, the door opens. You feel your jaw dropping in amazement.

Venus leans against the white doorframe.

Her black lace bra shows her porcelain like skin underneath. Her tits look a little bigger than before. Her panties match her bra. Black lace. It shows of how small her waist is. Her toned stomach really makes her look like a goddess. The black straps that connect her stockings with her panties each have a golden ring in the middle. The heels she is wearing complete her all black outfit

"I see you like it?"

You look down at your crotch. That's a very clear yes.

Watching her walk over to you almost makes you drool. Her hips sway from left to right, her hair, now lose, follows the same rhythm.

"I don't even remember the last time my pussy was filled."

She crashes down on you, not giving you time to react, when she reaches the bed. Landing on top of you, you feel her center rub against yours. Her hands in your hair. Her lips on yours once again.

The two of you exchange a passionate kiss, her hands slowly going through your hair. Yours are traveling down her back, until they reach their destination. You squeeze her cheeks, making Venus moan into your mouth.

"Naughty boy."

She coos, before she slides down your body. Her tits graze your covered crotch in the process. Once her face is on the right hight, she pulls your boxers off.

"I've already missed this so much."

She sighs, before diving in. Without a word of warning, you feel how Venus swallows your cock. Her warm mouth makes you groan as you sink into the cushions.

Reaching down, you hold her hair back as her head bobs up and down. Her blowjob is messy. Her saliva is starting to get everywhere. Your cock, your balls, your thighs, the mattress.

The only thing you can do is watch. Her eyes lock onto yours, trying to stare into your soul.

"Fuck."

You groan, unable to withstand her attack.

"So delicious."

She murmurs as she let's her tongue dance along your shaft, before taking you back into her mouth.

You can feel how impatient she is. Her blowjob is gaining in pace, her hands moving along your thighs. She starts to fuck her face onto your cock.

With a load groan, you almost cum right there. She pulls away early enough. Your disappointment is quickly replaced by heart pounding excitement.

"Eat me, please."

She gets on her knees, pulling her panties to the side. The mouth watering view almost gives you goosebumps. Her folds are wet, her pussy cleanly shaven.

You pull her hips towards you, making Venus sit on your face. Her pussy tastes even better than it looks. You can't get enough after only one lick. Her hands are in your hair again, forcing you to bury yourself even deeper into her core.

"Yes, baby."

She sighs, her head rolling back. Your pace quickens as you insert a finger into her wet core, while you lick her clit. Her velvet walls clench around you, dying for any friction at all.

"More. More!"

Her moans become louder, her whines needier.

At one point, she starts to ride your face. Your finger is still inside of her, egging her on.

"So close. The museum made me so wet."

You can feel her orgasm slowly approaching. Her pussy clenches around your finger even harder.

"Fuck!"

She almost shouts as she cums on your face.

Her sweet nectar tastes like peaches as you are forced to drink it, her hands keeping you in place.

"That was so good."

She sighs, her body visibly relaxing on top of you.

"I don't even remember the last time..."

She trails off, glancing down at you.

"I need you inside of me, Mars. Fuck me hard."

You tighten the grip on her waist, suddenly sitting up. It makes her fall off you and she lands on her back. You are now kneeling in front of her wet core, your cock grazing her folds.

"Give it to me."

She watches with a satisfied look on her face as you start to penetrate her pussy. Her tightness makes it hard to fit all of your cock inside of her in one go. You have to slowly ease in and out a couple of times, until you finally bottom out.

"Fuck, you are big."

She sighs as she feels how you fill her. Her pussy hugs your cock as tight as it can.

Her hands grab the sheets as you start to fuck Venus. Her body rocks back and forth on the mattress. Your hands are placed on her hips as you enjoy her pussy. It almost feels like she is made for you.

"More!"

Her head sinks into the sheets as you start to fuck her harder. Her legs wrap around you, trapping you, not allowing you to go anywhere but deeper. Not that you mind. If you could only stay inside of her forever...

Your body moves on its own, driven by your carnal desires. Every thrust makes her breasts jiggle slightly, despite the fact that they are still secure inside her bra. Her eyes are staring up at you, tracing the drops of sweat that form on your forehead, before they fall onto your chest or her tummy.

"Gosh, your cock..."

You see how her eyes become smaller, until they finally close. Her mouth is slightly open, moan after moan escaping her pretty lips.

"How are you so tight?"

You can't help but wonder. How is she this perfect? That face of hers would already be enough for every man to fall for her. But her body turns you into a slave to your animalistic instincts. And her pussy.. You can't describe it with words.

It feels like you are in paradise. And at the same time, you feel something like guilt. You shouldn't be doing this. You shouldn't be fucking her. She is a married woman. And yet, that fact somehow turns you on even more.

Venus should be off limits to you. Because she is way out of your league. And because she is married. But here you are. Fucking her, while she whines and mewls, asking you to go faster.

For a moment, you wonder if she is alone in Rome. Or is her husband with her? You haven't thought about this possibility yet. That he and her might have spent the night right here. In this bed. In the bed you are fucking his wife on.

"Fuck!"

Her loud moan brings you back to reality.

"I need it rougher! More!"

It's starting to feel like she just can't get enough.

You start to slow down, wanting to try another position. Maybe you can fuck her even deeper that way.

"Get up and turn around."

Venus seems to like the idea. She gets on all fours her ass facing you.

"Put it back in."

She smiles as she looks over her shoulder.

You let your hands run along her beautifully shaped cheeks. You knead them a couple of times, before you aling yourself with her wet cavern once again.

"Fuck me hard."

It's a mixture of plea and command.

Venus moans when you thrust forward, impaling her with your cock.

"Oh god!"

You lean over her, grabbing both of her arms. Pulling them back, you make her kneel. Only your hands on her arms keep her upright.

Fucking her from behind feels better than missionary. You are able to penetrate her deeper. You are able to rock her body back and forth properly. And you can really pull her onto your cock.

But as you keep pounding into her, her hair starts to fall, swinging from left to right. It hits her face, whenever you pull at her arms and thrust into her. She has to close her mouth, letting out needy whimpers. But she can't hold it in for very long. And soon, she has some of her own hair in her mouth as she moans for more.

The only downside is, you can't see her face. Her gorgeous features must be twisted in pleasure, but you are missing out on seeing them. Her hair starts to have a life on its own as the pace and force of your thursts increase. It starts to cover parts of her face, while most of it is still resting against her back.

You focus on the rhythm of your thrusts as you feel how deep you are inside of her. It feels like her pussy is getting better and better by the second. Your own pleasure increases, the harder you fuck her.

"Fuck!"

Venus suddenly cums around your cock. You missed the fact that she has been dead silent for the last couple of moments. Now, she is letting it all out again. Lewd words spill from her lips, just like her juices spill out of her pussy. She starts to stain the sheets underneath, almost slipping because of her own liquids.

Her orgasm overwhelms you, bringing you closer towards your own edge. You have been holding on for now, but the sight of Venus cuming right in front of you eventually proves too much.

You feel how you are growing tired, her pussy contracting around you with every thrust into it.

"I think I'm gonna cum!"

You groan, trying to warn Venus.

"Paint me! Stain me with your cum!"

She mewls as she feels you picking up the pace one last time. Her hair is still in her face, but she is unable to put it back. Her arms still behind her.

"Fuck."

You sigh as you finally pull out. You let go of her arms, letting Venus fall face first into the mattress. You hold your cock in your hand as you start to climax. Your cum hits her back. Rope after rope starts to stain her skin. Just like she wanted. Some of it gets onto the bra wire, the white globes visible on the black fabric.

"Fuck, I needed that."

You hear her mumble into the sheets, her voice muffled by the white cotton.

You still can't fully grasp what you just did. As soon as she came out of the bathroom it felt like someone else was controlling your body. It felt incredible nonetheless.

As you see Venus lying on her stomach in front of you, your cum on her back, you wonder what else there is to do. There is so much. There is so much the two of you could do. You whish you could explore even more of her body. To feel every inch of her skin.

When Venus finally turns her head to look up at you, you see her smile. Her eyes tell you that she is thinking the same thing.

"How do you want to fuck me next?"

[starry-bi-sky]

i need to get this out of my head before i continue clone^2 but danny being the first batkid. Like, standard procedure stuff: his parents and sister die, danny ends up with Vlad Masters. He drags him along to stereotypical galas and stuff; Danny is not having a good time.

He ends up going to one of the Wayne Galas being hosted ever since elusive Bruce Wayne has returned to Gotham. Vlad is crowing about having this opportunity as he's been wanting to sink his claws into the company for a long while now. Danny is too busy grieving to care what he wants.

And like most Galas, once Vlad is done showing him off to the other socialites and the like, he disappears. Off to a dark corner, or to one of the many balconies; doesn't matter. There he runs into said star of the show, Bruce who is still young, has been Batman for at least a year at this point, but still getting used to all these damn people and socializing. He's stepped off to hide for a few minutes before stepping back into the shark tank.

And he runs into a kid with circles under his eyes and a dull gleam in them. Familiar, like looking into a mirror.

Danny tries to excuse himself, he hasn't stopped crying since his parents died and it's been months. He rubs his eyes and stands up, and stumbles over a half-hearted apology to Mister Wayne. Some of Vlad's etiquette lessons kicking in.

Bruce is awkward, but he softens. "That's alright, lad," he says, pulling up some of that Brucie Wayne confidence, "I was just coming out here to get some fresh air."

There's a little pressing; Bruce asks who he's here with, Danny says, voice quiet and grief-stricken, that he's with his godfather Vlad Masters. Bruce asks him if he knows where he is, and Danny tells him he does. Bruce offers to leave, Danny tells him to do whatever he wants.

It ends with Bruce staying, standing off to the side with Danny in silence. Neither of them say a word, and Danny eventually leaves first in that same silence.

Bruce looks into Vlad Masters after everything is over, his interest piqued. He finds news about him taking in Danny Fenton: he looks into Danny Fenton. He finds news articles about his parents' deaths, their occupations, everything he can get his hands on.

At the next gala, he sees Danny again. And he looks the same as ever: quiet like a ghost, just as pale, and full of grief. Bruce sits in silence with him again for nearly ten minutes before he strikes a conversation.

"Do you like to do anything?"

Nothing. Just silence.

Bruce isn't quite sure what to do: comfort is not his forte, and Danny doesn't know him. He's smart enough to know that. So he starts talking about other things; anything he can think of that Brucie Wayne might say, that also wasn't inappropriate for a kid to hear.

Danny says nothing the entire time, and is again the first to leave.

Bruce watches from a distance as he intercts with Vlad Masters; how Vlad Masters interacts with him. He doesn't like what he sees: Vlad Masters keeps a hand on Danny's shoulder like one would hold onto the collar of a dog. He parades him around like a trophy he won.

And there are moments, when someone gets too close or when someone tries to shake Danny's hand, of deep possessiveness that flints over Vlad Masters' eyes. Like a dragon guarding a horde.

He plays the act of doting godfather well: but Bruce knows a liar when he sees one. Like recognizes like.

Danny is dull-eyed and blank faced the entire time; he looks miserable.

So Bruce tries to host more parties; if only so that he can talk to Danny alone. Vlad seems all too happy to attend, toting Danny along like a ribbon, and on the dot every hour, Danny slips away to somewhere to hide. Bruce appears twenty minutes later.

"I was looking into your godfather's company," he says one night, trying to think of more things to say. Some nights all they do is sit in silence. "Some of my shareholders were thinking of partnering up--"

"Don't."

He stops. Danny hardly says a word to him, he doesn't even look at him -- he's sitting on the ground, his head in his knees. Like he's trying to hide from the world. But he's looking, blue eyes piercing up at Bruce.

Bruce tilts his head, practiced puppy-like. "Pardon?"

"Don't." Danny says, strongly. "Don't make any deals with Vlad."

It's the most words Danny's spoken to him, and there's a look in his eyes like a candle finding its spark. Something hard. Bruce presses further, "And why is that?"

The spark flutters, and flushes out. Danny blinks like he's coming out of a trance, and slumps back into himself. "Just don't."

Bruce stares at him, thoughtful, before looking away. "Alright. I won't."

And they fall back into silence.

Danny, when he leaves, turns to look at Bruce, "I mean it." He says; soft like he's telling a secret, "Don't make any deals with him. Don't be alone with him. Don't work with him."

He's scampered away before Bruce can question him further.

(He never planned on working with Vlad Masters and his company; he's done his research. He's seen the misfortune. But nothing ever leads back to him. There's no evidence of anything. But Danny knows something.)

At their next meeting, Danny starts the conversation. It's new, and it's welcomed. He says, cutting through their five minute quiet, that he likes stars. And he doesn't like that he can't see them in Gotham.

Bruce hums in interest, and Danny continues talking. It's as if floodgates had been opened, and as Bruce takes a sip of his wine, it tastes like victory.

("Tucker told me once--") ("Tucker?") ("Oh-- uh, one of my best friends. He's a tech geek. We haven't talked in a while.")

(Danny shut down in his grief -- his friends are worried, but can't reach him. When he goes back to the manor with Vlad, he fishes out his phone and sends them a message.)

(They are ecstatic to hear from him.)

It all culminates until one day, when Danny is leaving to go back inside, that Bruce speaks up. "You know," He says, leaning against the railing. "The manor has many rooms; plenty of space for a guest."

The implication there, hidden between the lines. And Danny is smart, he looks at Bruce with a sharp glean in his eyes, and he nods. "Good to know."

The next time they see each other, Danny has something in his hands. "Can you hold onto something for me?" He asks.

When Bruce agrees, Danny places a pearl into his palm. or, at least, it's something that looks like a pearl. Because it's cold to the touch; sinking into Bruce's white silk gloves with ease and shimmering like an opal. It moves a little as it settles into his hand, and the moves like its full of liquid.

Bruce has never seen anything like it before, but he does know this; it's not human. "What is it?" He asks, and Danny looks uncomfortable.

"I can't tell you that." He says, shifting on his foot like he's scared of someone seeing it. "But please be careful with it. Treat it like it's extremely fragile."

When Bruce gets home, he puts it in an empty ring box and hides the box in the cave. He tries researching into what it is. he can't find anything concrete.

Everything comes to a head one day when Danny appears at the manor's doorstep one evening, soaking wet in the rain, and bleeding from the side.