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#a sequel is being made at the request of a friend
luffington · 3 months
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meanie ♡
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➤ summary: Zoro tests out a remote-controlled vibrator on you in the middle of town. (18+)
➤ pairing: roronoa zoro x afab!reader
➤ word count: 2.6k
➤ warnings: voyeurism, semi-public sex, established relationship, degradation, humiliation, fluff at the end, franky being franky, fem terms for reader
➤ notes: i've been thinking about this concept for MONTHS and i finally got around to writing it! might make a sequel featuring sanji.. who knows :3
NSFW under the break! minors dni thank uuu
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“What is it?” You asked after several moments of silence, studying the foreign object your boyfriend had placed in the palm of your hand. Bright blue, shaped like an oversized bullet with a slightly tapered tip, coated with soft silicone. It definitely wasn’t a weapon or a tool. Zoro’s matching remote didn’t provide any clues. 
“Something I asked Franky to make.” Zoro answered smugly but internally cringed at the memory. A few days ago, he had approached the cyborg with bright red cheeks and mumbled his request without making eye contact. Franky simply responded ‘suuuperrr!’, and Zoro was still trying to forget the fact that he already knew how to build it. “Wanna see how it works?”
The remote only had three dark blue buttons: up, down, and power. He pressed the latter and you flinched as the object suddenly sprung to life in your hand, vibrating softly but consistently. “It… vibrates? Okay, but what is it used fo–” It finally clicked in your brain. “Ohhh. Oh, Zoro.” 
He mirrored your knowing smirk with his own. “C’mon, let’s test it out.”
You could barely stand the next morning, wobbling along the deck even though the sea was calm. Nami gave you a suspicious look before announcing that the ship was about to stop at a nearby island for a supply refill. 
Zoro approached you from behind, his muscular body pressed against your back. Breath tickling your ear as he whispered, “Perfect chance to use it again.”
Your eyes widened. “You mean… on the island? In public?”
“What do you think the remote is for?” He frowned. “We talked about this, I thought you were into it. But if you don’t want to…” 
You shook your head — you definitely wanted to. This was a persisting fantasy of yours, something you’d never admitted to your past partners out of embarrassment. But you trusted Zoro more than anyone. However, touching yourself while imagining the thrill of being caught was very different from the impending reality which made your stomach flutter with anxiety. 
“It’s either in town or on the Sunny. Would you rather maybe get caught by strangers or definitely get caught by our friends?” Zoro added with an annoyed expression, “Knowing my luck, that shitty cook would be the first to notice.”
Okay, he had a point. Not just Sanji – getting caught by any of your crewmates would be incredibly awkward. At least you would never see anyone in town again.
So you let Zoro lead you to the men’s quarters, climbing onto his bed as he grabbed the vibrator from his locker. Laughing as he playfully pushed you flat on your back, slotting himself between your legs and easily pulling down your skirt and undies. He ran two fingers up and down your slit before rubbing your clit in small circles. You bit back a moan – this was gonna be a long day. When you were wet enough, Zoro pushed the vibe snugly inside your pussy.
You expected him to keep going and turn it on, maybe let you cum if he was in an especially good mood. But he hopped off the bed, adjusting his rumpled shirt and leaving you to fix your own clothes. “Let’s get going. I need a fucking drink.”
The two of you had been walking around town for nearly a half hour and Zoro hadn’t touched the remote. You passed a bar fifteen minutes ago and he kept walking – he was stalling. Parading you in front of dozens of new faces and leaving you constantly anticipating the vibrations to start. It didn’t help that he kept his hand and the remote in the same pocket of his pants.
A flashy weapons shop caught his eye. He claimed he needed new materials for taking care of his swords, but you didn’t think there was anything wrong with what he had on the ship. You practically clung to him nervously as he wandered around the shop. He occasionally stopped to study items, seeming a little too interested in a sword that was comically worse than his current ones. 
As he picked it up for a closer look, the toy sprung to life inside of your pussy, causing you to squeal in shock. Vibrations sent shivers up your spine, and you felt a fire ignite in your core just as embarrassment burned in your mind. Zoro turned the power up two levels and snickered when you grabbed onto his shirt sleeve to steady yourself. “Careful, babe, there’s a lot of sharp edges around.”
“I know that.” You pressed your forehead against his shoulder and shut your eyes tightly. Unable to do anything besides rub your thighs together. The vibrations weren’t nearly strong enough to make you cum, but they were impossible to ignore. 
“The shopkeeper’s looking at you.” Your boyfriend whispered in a sultry tone. “Bet he wishes you were clinging to him instead. He definitely knows how easy you are. How easy it is to get your slutty cunt soaking wet. You just need a pair of eyes on you, huh?”
“You’re so mean,” you pouted, clenching onto his arm even tighter. Zoro turned up the toy another level and you bit back a moan. You hesitantly turned to look at the shopkeeper, a balding man with beady eyes. He seemed skeptical, not entirely sure what was going on, but his lecherous gaze still moved up and down your body as if he were appraising you. 
“Stop staring at my girlfriend, you goddamn creep.” Zoro suddenly growled and grabbed your hand, quickly moving to the exit as you stumbled behind him. The shopkeeper flushed red and opened his mouth to respond, but Zoro cut him off. “All of your swords are fucking awful.” 
You giggled as the door slammed behind you. “Zoro, if you’re gonna get jealous, why are we doing this?”
“I’m not jealous. I’m showing off what’s mine.” He was right – ‘jealous’ wasn’t the best word to describe him, since you made it clear that he had no competition. ‘Possessive’ was more accurate. He’d been like that since the start of your relationship. Always asking who your pussy belonged to, marking you with bruises and hickies, making you scream his name over and over as he pounded his cock into you. 
Thankfully, you had grown used to the light vibrations after a few minutes – Zoro was kind enough to turn the power level down, but didn’t shut it off. The two of you entered the bar you’d passed earlier, a dark and dingy place with about a dozen people inside.
“Hey!” Luffy’s obscenely loud voice rang throughout the building. He waved you over to where he was sitting, the large table already covered in empty dishes. Your eyes widened and you subtly shook your head at Zoro. The swordsman ignored you and strolled over to the bar counter to order two glasses of sake, leaving you no choice but to sit across from your captain. 
Your boyfriend placed a glass in front of you and moved his chair incredibly close to yours, resting his hand on your bare upper thigh. You shifted in your seat — big mistake. The toy was now pressed against the most sensitive spot inside you. 
“What’ve you guys been doing? Zoro, I thought you’d come straight here,” Luffy asked around a mouthful of food.
Zoro mentioned the shops you stopped by, casually turning the vibrator much higher mid-sentence. You clamped a hand over your mouth just in time to muffle your lewd moan, bending over in surprise as the toy insistently massaged your walls. It simultaneously felt heavenly and sadistic – the unrelenting pressure on your g-spot and Zoro’s big hand tightening on your thigh, clearly satisfied by your response. 
Luffy seemed confused, but Zoro told him that sake doesn’t always sit right with your stomach. Yeah, sure, your glazed over eyes and squirming legs could definitely pass as a stomach ache. Maybe to your oblivious captain, but certainly not to the people around you.
Your boyfriend’s hand moved farther up your leg, sneaking under your skirt to thumb at the waistband of your panties and rub the sensitive skin underneath. The toy got even stronger, probably on its highest setting at this point. Zoro continued his conversation with Luffy without stumbling once, barely glancing at you when you spilled your second round of sake all over your white shirt. 
“What’s wrong with you?” Luffy frowned, leaning across the table to study you closely. You prayed he wouldn’t look down and notice Zoro’s half-hidden hand. “Maybe you should talk to Chopper.”
“No! No Chopper!” You immediately exclaimed, making Zoro chuckle quietly. “I… I mean I’m fine, I’m not sick.”
Your captain hummed in thought, but in typical Luffy fashion, shrugged and said, “Well, whatever.”
Zoro finally turned to look at you with a sly grin. “Why don’t we go to the bathroom to wash off that stain?” You instantly nodded in agreement.
The swordsman shoved you against the wall of a men’s bathroom stall and crashed his lips against yours, devouring your mouth like an animal. One hand held your wrists together above your head and kept you in place as the other trailed across your chest, stopping to squeeze your tits. He delighted in your barely restrained moans and breathy whimpers of his name.
“You have no idea how fucking sexy that was,” he panted against your lips. “You’re so bad at hiding how much of a dirty whore you are for attention. All you need is your cute cunt touched and you’re gone. You probably have no idea where we are right now. The only thing your slutty brain can think about is my cock, right?”
“Yes, fuck, Zoro, I need you so badly.” With a satisfied smirk, he hiked up your skirt and pulled your panties down to your mid-thighs. Unceremoniously pushing two fingers inside your hole to retrieve the vibrator. You were so lucky that the bathroom was empty – the noise you made was unholy. 
“Your panties are fucking soaked,” he snickered, admiring the obvious wet spot on the fabric. But Zoro didn’t turn the toy off, simply turned down the vibrations then reached under your shirt and pressed it against your nipple. You cried out again as he adjusted its position so your bra would keep it firmly in place.
Zoro flipped you around so you were facing the wall. He was right – you were much too cockdrunk (and slightly tipsy on real alcohol) to care about how unhygienic a bar bathroom was. You unconsciously wiggled your hips when you heard the sound of his zipper and felt his hard cock rest on top of your ass. He grabbed your wrists again to keep them firmly pinned behind your back. 
“Don’t even need to prep you, I can just slide right in,” the swordsman chuckled. He rubbed the tip of his cock against your clit teasingly, then shoved his entire length inside you in one rough thrust. You let out a pleased moan, glad that you were finally getting the orgasm you’d been anticipating for at least an hour. Zoro rested his head in the crook of your neck. “You’re so damn loud. We’re still in public, y’know.”
“So shut me up.” You pressed your lips against his again, tongues swirling around each other in a messy dance as he continued to fuck you hard. His cock hit all the right places inside you, the ridges and veins and warmth giving you a more human sense of satisfaction than the electronic toy ever could. It still buzzed away against your nipple, which was almost painfully stiff at that point. Zoro panted heavily against your mouth – riling you up inevitably got him riled up, and he was just as close to hitting his peak as you were.
The bathroom door opened.
Both of you froze. Your entire body went as stiff as a mannequin, too afraid to even breathe. Zoro narrowed his good eye and listened closely to every single footstep, door creak and ruffle of clothes. There were three bathroom stalls, and the stranger was courteous enough to use the one farthest from you, leaving an empty one in between. Once he was sure that the person wasn’t a Straw Hat, Zoro’s hand moved from gripping your ass to cupping your face, silently pushing two fingers between your lips. You gagged around them anxiously.
“Now we really gotta be quiet,” the swordsman whispered directly in your ear. You didn’t have time to question what he meant before he slowly moved his hips back, his dick pulling out of you inch by inch until only the tip was inside of you. He pushed back in just as carefully, the quietest smack of skin as his hips met your ass echoing in your racing mind. The stranger heard it, you knew he heard it. Zoro shifted again and you shook your head in protest, but he just pushed his fingers farther down your throat and continued to fuck you. 
The sound of a toilet flushing made you jump. Zoro’s hips moved in slow circles and grinded his cock against your walls, deep and deliberate. You heard the stranger unlock his stall and turn on the sink outside. If he glanced in the mirror, he would definitely see two pairs of feet pressed together underneath your stall. Your pussy clenched at the thought, causing Zoro to grunt quietly.
As soon as the bathroom door swung closed, Zoro pulled his spit-soaked fingers from your mouth and you gasped for air. “Good little slut listened to me for once,” he chuckled and resumed his previous brutal pace, thick cock filling your cunt so perfectly and prodding at your cervix. 
“Fuck, I’m so close…” You whined, feeling drool drip down your chin.
Zoro promptly reached underneath you to massage your clit. “I’m right there, too, baby. Cum for me.” His words – his permission – brought you over the edge. You saw stars and really tried your best to not let the entire bar hear you. Moments later, thick spurts of cum coated your insides, Zoro biting down on your shoulder to muffle his own satisfied groan. 
You stayed pressed together as you both caught your breath, his cock still snugly inside you. “Zoro, the vibrator–” He had clearly forgotten about it, but there was no way you could ignore the incessant buzzing against your practically numb nipple. He instantly fumbled to grab the remote from his pocket, finally shutting the toy off.
“My fault,” he mumbled apologetically. Letting out a content sigh and wrapping his arms around your waist. “I know I’m an asshole, but, uh, thank you. For being so good to me.”
“You’re not an asshole,” you frowned, gently rubbing the top of his head. “I’m the one who asked for this. I like it when you’re a meanie, and I like that you like it, too.”
He grinned and nuzzled into your touch, prompting you to pull him even closer. “Is there a difference between an asshole and a meanie?”
“Of course. I would never date an asshole. Just a guy who fucks me exactly how I want it.” You giggled to yourself. “We’re going to a clothing store before we leave, by the way. You owe me a new shirt.”
When you exited the bathroom, cheeks still slightly flushed and dry sweat on your temple, Franky had stolen your chair at the table, sitting across from Luffy and chugging a bottle of cola. He spotted you two and immediately gave you a big thumbs up, shouting “Yow!”. Both of you blushed furiously — so much for avoiding getting caught by your crew. Perverts recognized perverts, you supposed. 
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679 notes · View notes
plasticferal · 8 months
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hey queen! can you pls do an angst story with chris. where they get into an argument and chris said things he never meant. then he apologizes to her afterwards. ( basically angst to fluff)
damsel in distress | chris sturniolo.
i added my own twist to this ask. it's my favourite prompt so thank you! 18+ protective!ex-boyfriend chris x fem!reader. fighting, touches on themes of unwanted attention, mentions of alcohol, explicit language. reader discretion is advised. p.s inspired by the unreleased olivia rodrigo song 'prison for life'.
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the house is filled with familiar faces and strangers. a small gathering turned into a full blown house party from the moment the word got out. where the sturniolo triplets are, a flock follows. you sigh, pushing and shoving your way through the unwanted crowd.
all you want is to make it into the kitchen, miraculously being the only place no one wants to linger. the last person you need to see right now is your ex lover. chris is standing ahead of you, leaning on the kitchen counter, alone in the room. you shut the doors behind you, needing to escape. even if it means with him.
“if you wanted to get me alone, you could have just asked." he speaks smug, before taking a sip from his red solo cup.
“i'm not in the mood,” you dismiss. you open the fridge, eyes scanning the shelves but nothing calling your name.
you know you're not actually looking for anything, you just don't want to look at him. the entire night has you shaking with anger. from the mess in your home, the lack of care everyone is taking, the noise complaint you know you'll be getting later, and worst of all, that one guy who won't leave you alone.
you've never seen him before tonight, you don't even know his name, but all he's done is make you uncomfortable. try to dance with you, try to give you drinks. he brushes your waist every time he walks past.
all of your friends have been encouraging you to go for it, to get over chris. and honestly, you consider it for a moment. just to finally move on, but you can't bring yourself to. at least not with some random creep.
the break up is still raw. he tells everyone it was 'mutual' but it was a part on your request. he'd never throw you under the bus like that. he knows why you made your decision, he's never questioned it.
chris feels like it's unrequited love. although, you haven't lost any love for him, no matter how much you try to push him away. he has every right to despise you, but he doesn't.
every time you close a chapter with him, you find yourself in a sequel. it's like you're re-reading different stories, but the ending stays the same. your heart wants him, your brain wants to hate him.
"what's wrong?" he asks, sensing you're genuine in your frustration.
"nothing." you refuse to let him know what's happing in your world, let alone your mind. you don't need to let in him anymore, even though you want to let it out. he's the one person who could just sit and listen to you for hours on end.
"alright, just askin" his words trail off into a hush. he switches the tone, not wanting the conversation to stop.
“your friends are nice” he speaks in a sickeningly sweet tone, because if anyone knows how to kick you while you're down, it's him.
"you would think that" you scoff, implying that you've seen them throw themselves at him all night. him pouring them drinks, smiling and frothing over the attention he's receiving.
"the fuck is that supposed to mean?" his temperamental side seeps out, and you grow only more irritated.
"chris, can you get out please?" you huff, hands crossing over your chest. an unintentional way to seperate yourself from him, a metaphorical wall being put up.
"such a party pooper. you really gotta let loose, relax a bit." his words come out a lot more nasty that you hope he meant them, and it makes your face hot.
you give him the benefit of the doubt and think he's speaking with resilience, at the fact you keep shutting him down.
"i wonder why we ever broke up." you reply sarcastically, a fake smile on your face. he rolls his eyes, finishing off his drink and letting out an audible "ah," like a child finishing a juice box.
"i haven't seen you all night, y/n" his voice softens, and it becomes clear he's speaking for the sake of talking to you. he always wants to talk to you.
looking at the counter quickly to place his cup down, he looks back at you, tilting his head to the side slightly. he's not being horrible to you, he never has been. he's still in your life whether you like it or not, despite your hostility.
"sorry. i'm just tired." you lie. he knows it.
"your poker face isn't very good. i learnt that the hard way," he bounces his eyebrows, biting the tip of his tongue, eyes a bit wider as he stares at the ground and you can tell he's having a flashback.
you chuckle at the reference. the one time he caught you faking an orgasm didn't end very well, and he's been able to catch you out ever since. he's never been afraid to pull you up on your own fibs.
"sorry, again." you hug your body tighter, avoiding his eyes. he pushes himself off the counter with a stretch like hum and walks over to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.
"stop apologizing, you sound like matt," he rolls his eyes lightheartedly, and you let out a small laugh. that's always his intention, to make you smile.
"c'mon princess, let's get you a drink. seems like you need it." he nods toward to the door, rubbing your shoulder enthusiastically.
you let him try to fix your mood, because god knows you do actually need to stop stressing. you can't control what happens, just how you react. that's what chris always used to say when you were together.
feeling safe in his embrace, he security guard style moves you through the party. he hollers "excuse me!" and "coming through!" and everyone just listens, parting like the red sea. he's not the biggest guy in the room, but he sure is the most assertive. especially with you under his arm.
when you finally get to the drinks table, he makes you a vodka lemonade, saving the rest of the can for himself to finish off. it's not the most thrilling drink, but enough to keep you settled. ease the tension a bit. plus, it tastes good. no harm, no foul. as chris is mixing the liquids into cups, you feel an unwanted hand snake up around your hip.
"there you are. are you hiding from me?" your stomach drops at the voice of the mystery man towering over you, and you look ahead to watch chris's eyes snap up instantly.
chris lowers the cups, holding his eyes on the man behind you. you watch as he kinks his neck and his jaw tenses, taking a step closer. you shake your head at chris, holding a hand up subtly to tell him not to come any closer.
turning around, you stare up at the man. his breath reeks of liquor, and his shirt is drenched is sweat. it makes you sour your face and tense your entire body.
"i don't know what you want from me, but it's not gonna happen. i think you should leave." you speak sternly, trying not to let your voice shake with pure nerves. not even liquid confidence could help you right now.
"the party's just getting started," the man smiles, stumbling toward you in what you think is an attempt at a hug, but you begin pushing his body away from yours with a shove.
"dude, she doesn't want you. walk away." you hear chris's direct voice over your shoulder.
the last thing you want is negative attention on chris in a room full of people who would spread the news like wildfire. you never want that for him.
"it's okay, i got this." you dismiss chris in the nicest possible way, but you're being serious.
"come on, we'll have fun," the man hiccups through his words, mumbling them and tripping over toward you again.
"get the fuck away from her." chris's breath hits the back of your neck as he moves even closer to you.
"christopher, i'm serious. stop." you speak through grit teeth, so people can't read your lips, as he lingers next to you.
you try to be as inconspicuous as you can in your rejection to his advances, but he won't give up. the man appears more annoyed, and he grabs your wrist with a tight grip.
"let go of me." you grab the mans hand, trying to pry his grip without making it obvious.
you’re shaking at the thought of attention drawing. not for you, but for chris. eyes are already on you, being his ex. it's not what he ever wanted for you either. if he could make it all disappear, he would. it becomes more difficult when chris notices, and this time, has no intention of backing down.
"i'm not gonna repeat myself, back the fuck up." chris walks around your body, face to face with the guy who has a hold on you now.
"please, chris." you beg, voice quivering.
you know his temper can change in the blink of an eye. him and matt both have that in common.
"she doesn't need your help, pretty boy." the man splatters his words, a malicious smile on his face as he leans toward chris, almost nose to nose.
chris smiles criminally, flashing his teeth.
"you're right," chris puts his hands up in defence, a downward smile on his face as he chuckles darkly, taking a big step backward.
there's a feeling of relief, and intense fear as he actually does start to back away. but you know chris. unfortunately, it's unavoidable.
you try to catch his eyes, and speak through a begging stare without using words. he looks at you with sadness, and you mime the words, 'please don't'.
the moment the man tugs your wrist as if to leave with him, making you wince with the grip he holds. you regret your counteraction instantly, because chris reacts viscerally.
he flares his nostrils and squeezes his nails into his palm, balling up his hands by his hip. his knuckles are turning white.
before you can get pulled away, chris lunges forward with a tight fist, throwing a strong, perfectly aligned punch to the mans cheekbone. it throws the man to the ground in the blink of an eye, relieving the pressure on your skin. you stumble backwards, out of the line of fire.
chris steps heavily forward, shoving a foot into his ribcage before straddling his legs, completely overpowering him. the man projects forward to swing and hit chris's mouth. chris doesn't even flinch, like it was painless. you watch chris raise his arm up again to pummel down onto the now defenceless stranger.
the surrounding crowd gasps and yells, clearing the space that chris has created with his actions. iphone cameras flash, making you feel sick. the whispering and gossip you can already hear pounding in your head is overwhelming.
you feel so futile. chris is too in his own world to even realise the repercussions. you're not saying the guy didn't deserve it, you have no care in the world for him. you care about the aftermath.
in a fantasy world, a daydream, a fairytale even, this is attractive. a knight in shining armour, fighting for his lady. a world where there are no consequences, or social media, or fear. a reality chris has suddenly forgotten about.
he looks natural doing it, too. the veins in his arms so prominent, his tight mouth and huffed breaths as he gives it everything he's got.
you're frozen in shock, watching chris pelt another punch into the man, and you want to pull him off, you know you need to, but all your body can do is watch. watch the two men roughhousing and exchanging blows, chris taking every hit with pride.
you're numb to the feeling, screaming in your head.
appearing out of thin air, nick and matt are in your line of vision, hiding the chaos ahead of you. his brothers move into action before anyone else needs to.
they've obviously been summoned, but there's a part of you that believes they could just sense it. like they telepathically knew chris was getting himself into trouble by the lack of surprise they express.
nick grabs chris by the collar of his shirt, pulling him off. matt grabs his wrists, to stop him from using his fists. the fight comes undone, finally, but chris is disoriented. he spits onto the man as he's being escorted into the kitchen by his brothers.
your eyes burn with tears that refuse to fall, and matt sweeps your hand up, guiding you with them in a hurried manner. matt is trying to snap you back to reality, but it's just white noise.
chris hits his palm aggressively with frustration against the door frame of the kitchen as you all walk through, and you take a deep breath to compose yourself. your eyes are still welling as you choke back a sniffle, and you're not sure if it's shock, hurt, or anger anymore.
you're in a trance as you walk over to the freezer. your body is in autopilot, moving without you even knowing. you grab a frozen bag of vegetables out of the tray.
"so fucking stupid," you say nastily under your breath, slamming the door shut.
walking over to chris who's sat up on the ledge of the sink. you throw the packet at his chest, and he grabs it, questioning you for a second before matt walks over and shows him to place it on his bruised and red raw knuckles.
the room is filled with tension.
matt is biting his nails, you're leaning against the closed door, and nick finds himself squatting on the floor.
"what the actual fuck was that?" nick is too stunned to even yell, he just speaks aloud.
"i asked you not to, chris. i could have handled it myself." you shake your head, vision blurry as you stare vacantly ahead. you want to lash out at him, but for some reason you can't.
"yeah, it really looked like you had it under control." he crushes the frozen packet harshly against his hand.
"we'll leave you two alone." matt cuts through awkwardly, shooting nick a warning glare.
matt knows it's not his place to go off at chris right now. he'll do that later.
"but-" nick begins, and matt snaps toward the door. you hear nick sigh, knowing he would love nothing more than to stay and listen to you tear into chris. alas, they both leave promptly, matt flashing you a sympathetic smile on the way out.
you can hear from the other side of the door, both nick and matt are hustling trying to kick everyone out. it’s a weight lifted off your shoulders. the literal mess being left behind is the least of your worries now.
you're alone with chris in the kitchen again, the second time not being anymore pleasant than the first. you blame yourself fully for dropping your guard, even if for a second.
“i begged you not to, chris.” you repeat with a stern tone, laced with betrayal and genuine hurt.
he’s silent for a moment, staring at you from across the room with no emotion on his face. you know he feels terrible, he doesn’t have to show it. or tell you.
“did you think i was just gonna stand and watch?” he rebuttals.
“i would have preferred that, honestly.” you don’t understand how he can’t grasp the intensity of the situation.
"did you want him? go back out there then." he's bitter, pointing at the door. you roll your eyes, shaking your head in disbelief.
"chris," you start. he keeps talking.
“because i’m sure he’s still laying on the floor. go ahead. he might have a hard time talking now, though.” chris shrugs, speaking in a provoking manner.
“you’ll be lucky if he doesn’t press charges." you apprise.
“he should feel lucky i didn’t do worse.” he takes another step toward you, presumptuous in the way he carries himself.
"you've done a lot of stupid shit, chris. but that," you raise your hand as you speak, laughing in shock.
"that was unbelievable." you pinch the bridge of your nose, taking yet another deep breath.
"you know what's unbelievable is how you haven't even thanked me once" he ignores your words and bites back with irritation, face growing more twisted with upset.
"thank you?" you repeat, jaw dropping. you step toward him this time. you feel dejected trying to get him to understand.
"thank you for what? for causing a scene? for putting yourself in danger?" you step forward again, feeling like you could drive your heels into the ground beneath you.
"you're acting insane" he brings his hands to his head, tugging at his own hair with despair. his words sting, despite the back and forth arguing.
"you're the one that lashed out on that guy with no consideration for anyone else around you. that's insane" you speak with physical gestures unconsciously.
you're trying to reason with him, but with the state he's in, it's like trying to put a brain in a statue. you examine him, trying to search for his eyes but his body won't keep still, twisting and moving around.
"fuck, okay, i get it! i get it, y/n. you're not happy with me. you never fucking are apparently," his words trail off and he waves you away, turning his back to you. he sounds desperate for it to end.
you want to scream at him at the top of your lungs, and quite frankly, you could. your face burns and steam is about to shoot out of your ears.
"you don't need to protect me anymore, chris."
"i saved your ass out there." he speaks with his hand, four fingers direct to your chest. his words are like salt being rubbed into an open wound.
"saved me? that's a fucking stretch. your brothers saved your ass, because you don't think before you fucking act!"
"this is about YOU, y/n! what i did for you!" he slaps the back of right hand into the palm of his left.
"i'm not some damsel in distress that you need to sweep up and put in a tower, chris"
"yeah well at least in a tower you can't attract trouble." he speaks as if it's your fault, and of all the things he's just spit out, that's by far the worst. the most menacing and cut to the bone tone he's used.
"that was low, even for you." you huff, emotions at an all time high.
your breathing feels tight, but instead of reacting, you force yourself to seperate your emotions from the reality of the situation. you're both feeling very intensely, and expressing it the same way.
in hindsight, you could have redirected some of your emotions, but you also wish chris would take back some things he's said. there's no excuses.
chris re-collects himself and turns toward you again. he shrugs his shoulders, like he has nothing left to say. no fight left.
the closer chris is standing the more prominent his face is, and more specifically, his busted open lip.
you gasp in a mix of being upset, and shock. it feels like a piece of your heart is breaking off, seeing his delicate, pale skin so sore.
"your lip, chris." you exhale, stepping toward him.
he flinches when your hand raises to touch his face, and you know now that you've acknowledged it, it's hurting him. neither of you paid any attention to it amongst the turmoil.
"come here." you sigh, pulling his arm, bringing him over to where the paper towels are, in the corner of the sink.
tearing a white square into your hands, you rinse it under cold water lightly before squeezing the saturation out, leaving a damp cloth in your hand.
turning into chris's body, he looks down at you. he's still at last, and looks like he has no thoughts behind his now seemingly innocent eyes.
you cup his cheek gently, to turn his face downward. you bring the towel up to his lip, wiping his stained chin and mouth. he lets you, and doesn't even wince. he visibly gives into your touch. he's content.
"i need you to promise me you'll never do something like that again." you pull back, folding over a clean side and then wiping his lip softly, trying not to cause him pain.
"i can't promise that." he speaks in a whisper, as if he doesn't want you to hear his word.
with his lip no longer being red, you toss the damp and crumbling paper into sink, making it a problem for another time.
"why?" you look into his eyes, wiping your hands on your shirt.
his blue eyes are big but blameless, pupils dilated. holding his stare as your arm lowers.
"because if anyone lays a hand on you again, i'm going to prison for life." the piece of your heart that broke off earlier reattaches at his words alone.
chris's much shorter hair is spikey around his ears, and wet at the ends, turning dark brown from his sweat. you caress his messy curls, tucking it over the curves of his ears and taming the wispy strands. you hold his head in your hands, tiling him up and your mouths are inches apart.
"how hard did he hit your head?" you ask against his lips. he chuckles, genuinely.
he's an idiot, undeniably. but the gut wrenching, lawless love he has for you makes him that way. his low, smooth laughter, makes your heart skip a beat.
"i mean it, y/n."
"but i know, i know it was stupid." he admits.
"yeah, it was." you agree, shaking his head around slightly.
he grabs your hands with his own, engulfing them and holding them in his palms. he squeezes your hands, bringing them to his lips and kissing your knuckles.
"i'm sorry." he speaks on your skin.
"like really fucking sorry." he strains his head back with remorse, making his adam's apple more prominent, and he swallows hard. like he's swallowing his guilt.
"i said some nasty things. i wish i could take them back, y/n. i really do."
"i know, chris."
"no, you don't. i'll apologise to you everyday for the rest of my life if i have to. i've been horrible tonight."
"chris, enough," you hush him, the calmness in your tone making him understand you hear him. loud and clear. you need some time to forgive, but you absorb his words.
"i don't know how you didn't smack me in the mouth." he jokes, and you giggle through your breath.
"there's still time," you joke back. and he knows it by your tone.
"i could never bring myself to do that. as much as you deserve it." your banter eases the pressure, and you feel chris squeeze your hands in his again.
you rub your thumbs over his knuckles, looking at the little purple marks forming. he notices your face drop with stress, and he slips his hands away, moving to your hips instead.
"hey, i'm fine. i don't care what happens to me, i just need you to be okay."
"i am okay," you reply. he drops his face with a look that expresses he doesn’t believe you. you give a light eyeroll, and small smile.
"i mean it, i swear.” you raise your pinkie finger to him, to keep your promise. knowing it’s the only way he’ll actually believe you.
chris smiles, weak with his bruised lip, and wraps up your pinkie with his own, wriggling your hands around.
"i'm always gonna want to protect you." he pulls you toward his body. he's so warm, and radiates a magnetic energy that makes you want to collapse into his arms.
you know you don't need him to, but deep down, you would like his protection. his unconditional love. selflessness.
"i'll be sure to send you love letters in jail" you grin up at him, and laughs from the chest.
his voice is like a scratched record, fatigue taking over his body. you swallow hard, all of your senses coming back. he feels so real standing in front of you all of a sudden, like it's not just a dream you're about to wake up from.
"stay the night." you speak mindlessly.
chris brushes your hair from your face, cupping the back of your neck lightly to pull your forehead to his lips, kissing just above your eyebrows gently. he rests his chin on the crown of your head, pulling you tight to his chest in an embrace.
"i'll stay forever if you ask me to."
this is the feeling he fights for. requited love.
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outsideratheart · 2 months
Text
We Support Each Other (Aitana Bonmati x reader)
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A/N: This could be read as a stand alone but it is also a sequel to Sore Loser. Based off this request.
You could ask anyone that knows you and they would say they have never seen you more determined than they have during this last month. Each game you gave it your all and left the pitch knowing that you couldn’t physically do anymore. It was that attitude that got you where you currently are and that is standing in the tunnel about to walk out to a sold out Wembley stadium for the 2022 Euros final.
As always you are the last player in the line. It was superstition of yours and whilst your team mates loved to tease you about it, they didn’t mess with you today. No, today they let you be.
The first half wasn’t bad but it didn’t go as you had planned. Nothing seemed to work and the German players were beginning to get on your nerves. You knew it was their game plan and you welcomed the extra physicality. It did nothing but drive you to do the thing you failed to do in the first half and that was get the ball in the back of the net.
When Ella scored it gave you a boost of energy which was much needed. The score line being tipped in your favour didn’t last long because Germany equalised just over 15 minutes later. 
Injury time came up on the board and the 5 minutes passed without either teams taking the lead.
Then came extra time and the second half of extra time. Both teams were on their last legs and they knew that they needed to score soon because if it went to penalties then it was anybody’s game and all the work they had done would be almost meaningless.
During a Germany corner Mary punched it out and England were on the attack with the Germans hot on their tails. Keira ran down the middle of the pitch and it was as if the ball was stuck to her feet. There was no way she was losing that ball and when you began running along side of her there was no way you were going to mess up this opportunity.
Keira played you the most pin point accurate through ball and you know now was the time. This one shot could make history, it could change everything and when you shot the ball you knew it was going it. That didn’t stop time from standing still as you watched the ball sore through the air.
You don’t know what came over you but you take your shirt off and running towards Keira.
“Bloody Brilliant” you kiss her forehead.
“Y/N!!!” Keira jumps into your arms “You did it”
“We did it”
The rest of your team piles on top of you. When the goal celebrations are over you know that another goal isn’t going to come so your attention goes to running down the clock. You do the thing you hate when other teams do and you take the ball to the corner flag and do everything you can to keep the ball. The clock isn’t in your eye view but the final whistle is definitely heard.
England were Champions of Europe and you had done it at home. That final goal made you top goal scorer of the tournament and all your hard work was rewarded by winning player of the tournament. 
You had every right to celebrate yours and the ‘ achievement and whilst you are never one to go mad after winning a game, you do with this one. You celebrate with the entire team, players and staff alike but after an hour or so in the locker room you only want to be with one person and she is upstairs in the bar where all the friends and family were.
“Aita” You bury her head in the crook of her neck. 
The last couple of days had been stressful to say the least so when your body feels the safety that Aitana’s arms give you, it relaxes for the first time since you played Sweden.
“Amor meu” Aitana held you tightly knowing that in this moment you will be feeling very overwhelmed.
When you pull away you notice that she is crying and whenever your girlfriend cried, you cried. It didn’t matter if they are happy tears or sad tears.
Both of you stood there in the middle of the room crying without a care in the world. 
For the next hour the team stays at the bar in Wembley stadium but after that people start to leave and you are told it is time to go back to the hotel. You knew the tournament rules but technically it was over now so did the rules still apply? 
Aitana recognises that look. It was one she was well accustomed to and was often followed by mischief.
“Gaffa!” You shout maybe a little too loudly but you blamed the alcohol for the slight raise in volume. 
This term wasn’t something Aitana knew.
“It means boss, baby” you turn back towards your coach who was now coming towards you. 
“Wait!” You turn back to Aitana “not boss baby. It means boss and then I was calling you my baby because you are, you’re my baby” you kiss her once, twice, three times.
“Lo se” Aitana giggles. She liked drunk Y/N, she really liked her.
By the time you turn around again, Sarina is right next to you.
“Gaffa!!!” You place your arm around her shoulder.
“Yes, Y/N” Sarina gives Aitana a look as if wishing her luck with you in your intoxicated state.
Your girlfriend watches as you take a couple of seconds to compose yourself. She could have sworn she heard you giving yourself a little pep talk.
“Sarina, we have just won the euros” the Dutch woman shakes her head but then nods her head when she sees your expression change into one of confusion “We did win, look” you hold up your medal “I have been very good and well behaved”
“You snuck out of the team hotel and didn’t return for over two hours” Sarina recalls the night when she came to talk to you only to be told several different reasons why you weren’t with the team.
“That’s because of Aitana” Without realising you throw your own girlfriend under the bus.
“Right so Aitana here is a bad influence on you, I understand”
“She is not!” You say rather protectively “Aitana is the best thing to ever happen to me. I am a much better person because of her. You should have met me before we started dating, I was a handful”
Sarina knew that it was time to leave and whilst she was enjoying seeing you react this way, she also knew that you three were some of the many few left at the bar and that the rest of the team was already on the bus. She had to get to your point quickly.
“Y/N, I have already told Aitana that she is more than welcome to come to the hotel with us”
“You have?” You ask her “She did?” you ask Aitana who at this point could contain her laughter no more.
The coach journey back the hotel was loud and rowdy but not for you and Aitana. The alcohol had began to wear off given you stopped drinking. The two of you sit there, barely talking as you hold hands looking out of the window. Your girlfriend knew you were coming down from the winner’s high.
As you enter the hotel you excuse yourself stating that you wanted some time with Aitana before rejoining the festivities. She finds that a little strange but doesn’t push you. The elevator ride up to your room is silent but once in your room Aitana notices what is happening.
“You deserve this Y/N. I’m here because I want to celebrate with you” 
You had already laid your self out on the bed. With no hesitation she curls up into your side.
“We have celebrated. You shouldn’t have to watch us celebrate when we beat you in order to get to the final” You had enjoyed celebrating with the team but it was also important to take your girlfriend’s feelings into consideration.
“Watching you win today will be one of the best days of my life. I am so so proud of you and I don’t want you to stop celebrating your achievements because of me. We were never going to win this tournament. The federation—“
You let out a dramatic sigh.
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about what was going on” 
“I told you after the game. I am your girlfriend and some of the team are your closest friends, some even family. You wouldn’t have been able to be near Jorge and not say something”
You sat up rather quickly. Quick enough startle Aitana.
“You’re right, I would have said something. You should say something. From what you have told me, things are really bad at the minute and the way to make change is to stand up. If I come face to face with that man or any of his buddies then that is what I will be doing”
“We are going to say something but we are going to do it the right way” Aitana moved down the bed so she is closer to where you are standing.
“I will support you” you stand between her legs, cup her face with your hands and lean down to kiss her softly.
“I know you will” She returns the kiss with the same amount of softness “Right now I want to support you so let’s go celebrate you and your friends”
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pathologicalreid · 4 months
Note
Hiii I was wondering if you could write a part 2 or a sequel to the fic your wrote a little ago called next of kin. I loved it so much 😊😊😊 thank u!!! <333
stepping up | S.R.
after taking custody of your younger sister, spencer steps up in his role as caretaker
part one
who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: flangst content warnings: previous murder of parents, emphasis on not having a dad, maya is bffs with jack hotchner, spencer is an empath, not proofread word count: 1.58k a/n: for a while i wasn't giving my requests summary's but now im getting back into that because i realize I Got Too Silly. thank you for requesting! i love you!
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You jumped as your younger sister slammed the door to the garage shut behind you. Keeping her purple backpack slung over her shoulders, she trudged up the stairs and retreated into her bedroom. The six-year-old was either unaware or uncaring of the way you immediately followed her path to the stairs.
In your periphery, you saw Spencer peek his head over the back of the couch, making quick note of your troubled expression before he snapped his book shut and joined you. Hesitating, you looked up the stairs at the landing, the dim light of her lamp left a pinkish glow at the bottom of her door, but there was no noise coming from Maya’s bedroom.
“She didn’t say anything the whole way home,” you murmured thoughtfully, placing a hand on your chin. You’d thought she’d be happy when you picked her up as a surprise – you and Spencer had just gotten back from a case a few hours ago. Your cousin – who usually took care of Maya when you were away – had offered to pick her up from school, but you hadn’t seen her in three days and needed to see her.
Gently, Spencer placed a hand on the small of your back, ushering you up the stairs with him trailing close behind. With the two of you standing outside the door, you placed your hand on the brass doorknob and let your hand sit there, listening closely as you registered the small whimpers emanating from inside your sister’s room.
Unable to tolerate it, you wiggled at the door just to find that she had locked it from the inside, “Maya,” you said, consciously keeping your voice soft. “I know that you probably want to be left alone right now, but we need to know that you’re alright,” holding your breath, you waited, hoping that she’d open the door on her own and you wouldn’t have to go hunting for the key.
You were afraid that she was being bullied, she transferred to a new school in the middle of the year and was frequently absent in the beginning, but they didn’t make a guidebook on how to ease a child into a new school following the death of both of her parents. Luckily, Maya was placed in the same classroom as Jack Hotchner, so you knew she’d always have at least one friend around.
Just as Spencer was asking you if you wanted him to go get the room key, the lock clicked and the door slowly opened, revealing your younger sister. Her backpack had been discarded on the floor and her face was bright red, she had been crying.
Shooting yourself in the foot, you hesitated. You just stared down at your sister while she lowered her eyes, watching the floor. Despite the fact that you and Spencer had more than willingly taken her in, Maya was still an orphan. She was a six-year-old whose most prized possession was a stuffed bunny named Thumper, but she was an orphan, nonetheless.
Next to you, Spencer knelt down to the floor, meeting Maya at her height. Tentatively, he reached up and took one of her hands in his much bigger one, “What’s wrong, Bambi?”
Your chest ached at the nickname he had bestowed upon her, keeping your eyes focused on the both of them as Maya retreated back into her room, yanking her hand out of Spencer’s and tossing herself onto her canopy-covered bed. Sharing a concerned look, both you and Spencer made your way into the room.
Chewing on the inside of your lip, you sat at the desk across from her bed, and Spencer sat on the flower rug that she kept in front of her dresser. You opened your mouth to speak, but before you got the chance, Maya blurted, “I don’t have a dad!”
Eyes widening, you seemingly choked on air as your eyes darted from where your sister was now sitting up on the bed to where Spencer stayed still, looking equally as startled as you. Jumping up from the bed, she dramatically dropped to her knees in front of her backpack, unzipping the largest pocket before producing a green folder and thrusting a paper in Spencer’s direction.
Smoothly, Spencer accepted the paper from your sister, turning it right side up in his hands before skimming the print. You wheeled the desk chair over in his direction, eyes flickering over the flyer as you realized what it was for. The school held an annual daddy-daughter dance for Valentine’s Day, and your sister had been handed a flyer.
Once you had gotten through the holiday season, you convinced yourself that you could get yourself and Maya through anything – evidently enough, that had been a mistake. This, this made you angry. The administration knew exactly what your sister had been through, and the fact that they still chose to hold this event.
Her biggest worry should be what theme she wanted her seventh birthday party to be, not being left out of a school event because she didn’t have a parent to go with. You checked the time on her Hello Kitty alarm clock, knowing that the school administration would still be around until the end of the workday, you made a mental note to call them and file a complaint.
Concerned with your next steps, you hadn’t even noticed that Spencer had shuffled across the floor, using his fingertips to wipe tears from her face as she looked up at him with big eyes – Bambi. “I could go with you,” Spencer offered, cupping her small cheeks in his hands as he knelt in front of her.
Frowning, Maya shook her head rapidly, “You are not my dad,” she insisted, stepping back and away from Spencer, she crossed her arms in front of her chest, closing herself off.
Your boyfriend nodded in acknowledgment, this had led to a lot of confusion, as Spencer didn’t want to take over the role of father in Spencer’s life, so Maya frequently introduced him to people as her brother. There were a lot of lengthy explanations as to who he actually was. “No,” he responded simply, “I’m not, and I don’t have any intention of trying to be your dad. You already have a dad, right?”
Stepping back toward Spencer, Maya nodded, “Yes, but he’s gone.” Her arms dropped back to her sides, and your chest ached at the euphemism.
“Did you know that I didn’t have my dad around when I was growing up either?” Spencer asked, speaking tenderly to your sister as he tried to navigate this situation. You stayed completely still, trying not to move lest you interrupt the negotiation process.
Maya’s eyes widened in surprise, “Really?” Her small voice came out in a whisper like the information that she and Spencer were sharing was a secret, Maya called whispering adult talk, because that was how you and Spencer always spoke about work.
Reaching up and gingerly tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, Spencer nodded almost indeterminately, “Mhm, not the same way that your dad’s gone, but I know what it’s like to not be able do all of the fun dad things. If you’re alright with it, we can go together to the dance.”
“You don’t have to,” Maya whispered timidly, the standoffishness she had displayed earlier completely replaced with nerves.
Your boyfriend nodded, “I know, but I would be honored if you would let me,” he said, taking both of her hands in his. “We don’t have to go at all, but I want to make sure you know that you never have to be nervous about asking me for things.”
She pondered this for a moment before giving a sly smile, “Can I wear a pretty dress?”
“We’ll get you a new one,” Spencer assured her, looking over at you as you sighed, holding a hand over your chest while tears pricked at your eyes. “Does that mean you’ll let me take you to the Valentine’s Day dance?”
Jumping up and down excitedly, Maya beamed and threw her arms around Spencer who, in kind, hugged her tightly, rubbing a hand up and down her back, “I get to go to the dance, and I have no homework! This is the best day ever!”
Laughing lightly behind your hand, you grinned at your sister who was, after all, only six years old. “Your sister and I don’t have to work until tomorrow, do you want to do something?” Spencer offered, reaching out his hand and pulling you over to the two of them, allowing Maya to tackle you to the ground in a bear hug.
“Can we go to the park?” She asked, looking up at you with wide, curious eyes.
You nodded, “Absolutely we can, and we could go out for dinner after too if you want,” you offered, looking over at Spencer as he grabbed the dance flyer and pinned it to a corkboard in your sister’s room.
She gasped in surprise, even though the two of you rarely told her no – one of the dangers of raising an orphan. “Can Jack come?”
Laughing lightly, you quickly realized that your trip to the park was going to become a BAU family affair while you rose to your feet, wiping your clammy hands on your jeans, “If his dad says yes, then we can take Jack with us.”  
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pretzel-box · 1 month
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Could I perhaps request a part two of sun kissed where either Painter draws reader exactly or reader just waltzes in as an experiment?? If you already have something planned don’t worry abt this request <33
Remember to take breaks!! <33
-💫
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—SEQUEL TO SUNKISSED [CLICK HERE]
tags: Established Relationship [Marriage], fluff, gender neutral reader, reader just talking to P.AI.nter about the proposal, comforting little drawing session with P.AI.nter
words: 1,1k
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“He always had the habit of biting his cheek and doing that thing with his eyebrows,” you remarked, your voice light as you reminisced. P.AI.nter listened attentively, his virtual eyes fixed on you while his digital hands sketched away on the screen. “You know, the way he raises his eyebrows at everything that irritates him.”
The soft sound of pencil on paper filled the room as you sat across from him, your face illuminated by the dim glow of his monitor. You were sketching in your own little notebook, the movements of your hand so fluid and natural that P.AI.nter couldn’t help but feel a pang of envy. “And he rolls his eyes when he thinks no one’s watching. He’s so fed up with people sometimes that it’s cute. He’s so expressive!” You giggled, brushing imaginary sweat from your forehead with your sleeve before lightly tapping your paper with the pencil. “Sebastian was always a grumpy-pie. A cutie pie, but with mood swings.”
If P.AI.nter could nod, he would have. He found your description of Sebastian spot-on. It seemed that, despite everything, Sebastian was still the same man you fell in love with all those years ago—only now with more trauma etched into his soul. The AI felt a strong urge to speak up, to say something—anything—but he hesitated. The image of Sebastian’s sun-kissed proposal lingered in the background of his mind, waiting to be shared. Yet, deep down, P.AI.nter knew it wasn’t his place to reveal Sebastian’s feelings before he was ready.
Just as P.AI.nter was about to say something, you interrupted his thoughts. “And on the day he proposed, he had this unbelievably cute smile on his face.” A bright smile spread across your own lips as you recalled the memory of Sebastian on the beach, standing at the shore with slightly trembling hands and a blush that outshone the sunset. The nervousness had been written all over his face, yet the pure determination in his eyes made that moment unforgettable.
“He went down on one knee, the waves lapping at his leg, and he looked me straight in the eyes with this gaze… the kind that says everything without a word.” You gently set your papers aside, placing them on the ground. “Oh, P.AI.nter, being looked at like that is something everyone should experience at least once in their life. To be loved unconditionally by someone who sees you for who you truly are.”
You placed your warm hands on the side of his screen, your gaze soft and full of warmth. P.AI.nter couldn’t help but notice how similar it was to the way Sebastian looked whenever he spoke about you. It was clear that the two of you were a perfect match.
“Somewhere between the long, deep talks and the funny moments, I fell for you. And when I finally realized it, every moment with you felt like I had come home, to the place where I belong. To the person where I belong.”
You quoted Sebastian from that day on the beach, where the sky was awash with the colors of the setting sun. The golden light had gently highlighted his usually dark hair, his eyes filled with refreshing determination, and the sparkling diamond ring he pulled from his pocket gleamed in the light, rivaling the pure ocean waves.
“You are my home, and I would be lost without you. Please, will you marry me?”
P.AI.nter had never truly understood what love meant, but hearing your side of the proposal stirred something deep within his programming. He began to grasp that what you and Sebastian shared was something rare and pure. It pained him to know that Sebastian, his friend and partner, was just outside the door, separated from you by only a thin piece of metal.
Sebastian leaned against the wall next to the door, two of his arms crossed, clenching on something, while a third wiped away the tears streaming down his cheek. He listened quietly as you spoke so fondly of your proposal, and though he was just a few feet away, you had no idea he was there.
Why was he crying when he was already home?
As you continued to reminisce with P.AI.nter, your voice softened, carrying a warmth that seemed to fill the entire room. “You know, P.AI.nter, the proposal was the best thing in our lives. I actually invited him that day. I now he liked that beach as much as I did. And I brought a small black box with me, a ring.”
P.AI.nter listened intently, his virtual sketching slowing down as he focused more on your words than his drawing. He stopped in the middle of another paint stroke as he realized what you just revealed. This wasn't a part that Sebastian told him.
“And god, his eyes, P.AI.nter, his eyes. The moment he proposed and showed me the ring was the moment I pulled out the box, and his eyes, he started to cry.”
You paused, a dreamy smile spreading across your face as you recalled those tender moments. “He broke down crying in my arms, telling me over and over again that he accepts. I didn't even need to say anything.” P.AI.nter’s screen flickered gently as if responding to the emotions in your voice. He wanted to offer some words out of his own mind, the memories of his drawing session with Sebastian but he knew that the memories you were sharing were special, meant for you and Sebastian alone. The AI simply continued to listen, absorbing every detail of your love story not daring to interrupt it.
Suddenly, your recollections were interrupted by a faint, unusual noise coming from outside the room. You furrowed your brow, pausing mid-sentence. “Did you hear that, P.AI.nter?”
The AI paused its sketching. “Yes, I detected a sound from the hallway. Perhaps just another angle- Where are you going—”
Curiosity piqued, you gently set down your sketchbook and stood up, walking over to the door. You opened it cautiously, peeking out into the dimly lit hallway. The corridor was empty, the faint hum of the facility’s systems the only sound you could hear. You stepped out, glancing up and down the hall, but there was no one in sight.
“Hello?” you called softly, your voice echoing slightly. You waited for a response, but none came. After a moment, you sighed, feeling a strange sense of disappointment as you turned to go back inside. But before you closed the door, something caught your eye—a small, folded piece of paper on the ground, just outside the door.
Curious, you picked it up and unfolded it, revealing a hastily scrawled note. It was a messy little doodle of two people, standing at a beach in each other's arms. And then it hit you. He was here.
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bunji-enthusiast · 8 months
Text
Closer And Closer
Note || as requested by many, here is the sequel! This was a ton of fun to write 🤲
WC || 2,535
<(Previous Part)> <(You are here)>
Sypnosis || With your new friend in hand, you begin earning some unexpected honesty—and new understandings.
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Once, there was a dream. Sometimes it would recur, coming back to you in the encroaching depths of your mind no matter how much you wanted to stop dreaming this very same dream. It was always on and off, how it can always come back–like a nightmare–just how can one describe it?
People can forget their own dreams long after they wake up, lest they be lucky to want to write down the dream. So you were one and the same, the trepidation always sneaking upon you, like an approaching danger that will never fail to make your nerves stand on end. 
“Mommy,” You tugged at the hem of the woman’s dress, a baby trapped within a limited consciousness; yearning for love, curiosity and just always wanting to be around your parents. It’s natural and in nature for a young child to always want their parents. “Why are you gonna be gone for so long?”
Oh, that sweet, sweet voice. How adorable could you be? The woman just looked down upon your small form with a smile, so very reminiscent of motherly love. Only a mother could bring a kind of peace like that to their child, the woman thought. She crouched down to your level, patting the crown of your head with a gentle hand, so very gentle as you remember her even gentler heartbeat. A voice came from her mouth, words carried with a saccharine tone. “My little sweet apple pie, it is only a work trip!” She giggled, then wrapped her arms around you and held you close. Causing you to giggle as well, laughter so joyous even the woman holding you now couldn’t help but feel such joy because of you alone. “I’ll be back before you can say Poppies!”
You look up at her, strangely the woman’s face was misty, enshrouded by black shadows. As if reality didn’t want you to see her, your own mother. Still, a smile remained upon your face as you nodded at the woman. “Hehe! Okay, mom.”
Slowly you blinked, the world suddenly began disappearing from sight, the environment twisting upon your peripherals. 
“What?”
You groan audibly, cursing to yourself under your breath. “Of-fucking-course.” 
Slowly, You remember where you are now. A hand comes into your view and holds you steady, a very familiar one. 
“Don’t get up too quickly, you will get weary Angel.” His voice warns, it still seemed so strained and worn worse for wear. Just what kind of things had Catnap done to DogDay? Perhaps you shouldn’t worry about it, something like that is a very personal thing to ask about, no doubt. 
You coughed, pounding on your chest as you slowly rose awake. Your companion had been waiting calmly for you to collect yourself, but that had made him a little worried as he winced when you coughed. Slowly enough, you ease yourself into standing with DogDay’s help, all that jumping and landing seriously hurt your body a great deal. No wonder you were exhausted as hell right now.
Right, no time to worry about that now. It was time to be more worried about what to do next, “DogDay, you think you can handle being carried around by me in that state?” You asked with an airy tone, you didn’t want to be too loud and accidentally attract any nearby toys who are under Catnap’s influence. DogDay slumped for a moment, most likely still very worn out from probably the way he had been hanged. He let out a heavy sigh, feeling everything coursing through him, he was very much here and alive.
He always had been continually reminded of this very thing.
Reminded of Catnap.
“No need to worry about me, Angel.” Your companion spoke, his fur ruffling about in his movements. You probably were gonna have to do something about that later, DogDay sorely needed some cleaning up. “I am tougher than you think.” 
It seemed his words carried a half-hearted weight, carrying no affirmed meaning to them. You looked at DogDay incredulously, clear as night and day that you knew this well; worn out, tired and cramping for a plan to end the Prototype. You’ve never gotten a good look at the Prototype, only a few times you have gotten a good look at the Prototype’s hand–there must be a whole body from beyond the shadow’s.
Awaiting, no doubt terrifying too. But, you dealt with adrenaline rushes and terrifying monsters from the moment you stepped foot into the abandoned Playtime Co. 
“Ah, well, just tell me if anything is bothering you.” You nodded at him, patting down your clothing, the dust falling in your wake. DogDay was quiet for a moment, taking a hand-step back as he looked around at the environment once more. He was considering something, considering how to go about the next phase of the way. 
“No safe places here, nothing good.” For a moment, you swore that you had seen his mouth contorting into a frown–though in every Smiling Critter, they always are smiling–So this was completely new, different somehow. “My apologies Angel, safe places are rare to find.” DogDay sighed, he in a sense was habitually instinctive to keep his loved ones safe; going so far as to make sure they have a good sleep. Even if it meant at the cost of his own health. 
He cared deeply for his friends, but they were gone now. Catnap was someone he could not recognize anymore, that wasn’t his friend.
DogDay’s only focus was making sure you are alive and safe.
Something of which is admittedly difficult to do, knowing all the horrors that had occurred in Playtime Co. but it wasn’t too troubling for someone like you. DogDay was glad for you about that, impressed even that you had managed to survive thus far before you had met him. 
You patted his head, causing him to look back at you. “Nothing to apologize for! Everyone’s just… a little too crazy nowadays.” You mutter, walking over to a dusty pile and finding a tape. There seemed to be thousands of these tapes all around the Factory, some of which you could’ve sworn recording yourself. 
Being a former employee for Playtime Co. is one thing to say, but being an engineer was a different process. You were only involved in the works of designing and constructing, not once had you ever really got hand in hand with actually building things. But you were highly proud of the work you had done and completed alongside your fellow co-workers, looking back on it now… all it had done simply saddened you.
How it seemed to be the way that the toys seemed to be so lifeless, once so full of joy, love and empathy for everyone in this place all together.
You wouldn’t mind turning back the clock and doing good for once more, the right way this time. When everything was said and done, the toys you came across were well justified in their anger for being abandoned–but you weren’t looking to be on the top list of being killed either. Considering how you had gotten lucky apparently by quitting the day before your co-workers had all disappeared.
Getting through this place was no trouble, you remember some good places of this Factory like the back of your hand. Huggy Wuggy, Kissy Missy of whom is his spouse, was rather different to the likes of the tall-blue furred beast. Rather inconceivable in behaviors, Kissy Missy was a perturbed ally, one you didn’t expect. All the toys you met so far, (save for Poppy, and Kissy Missy) had full intentions to kill you from going any further.
This Factory is a whole goddamn amalgamation of mysteries you weren’t sure you wanted to solve anymore. Let alone having any trust in every being you come across now too, how disturbing must this get? You sure as hell weren’t Elliot Ludwig. 
“I simply wish I could be of more help.” DogDay recounted with a mournful tune, breaking you out of your thoughts and consolation. You frown at him, wanting to offer comfort: the words could not come through. He shuffled around to begin looking for things too, but now something had crossed your mind. 
You still couldn’t piece together almost everything between DogDay and Catnap, some things he had said back at the heretic altar had stuck with you. Until now it was dismissable, out of sight and out of mind you supposed. Though you recounted some thoughts that had warmed you in ways you didn’t expect, at first meet he already was of great character–someone you truly wanted to be around.
The repugnant smell that had always seemed to be invading your senses was gone now, this particular area was an untouched one. “DogDay… do you mind if I ask you something?” You spoke, stepping over the rubbish and noting the sound footsteps that echo in your wake. Don’t walk too much, this area may be empty but it didn’t mean that Catnap wasn’t watching. That cat was terrifying to you. Permeating nightmares had run endlessly through your mind, and his gas before when calling back on previous close counters with the obsessed follower of the prototype were far too close. 
Continually he had gone about looking for anything that may be of assistance to you both, still he had spoken in reply, “Angel, I will answer anything. You deserve as such.” DogDay recounted, noting what he had said to you before you fell to the slumbers of sweet, sweet sleep. 
Cool, cool cool… that was dandy and nice of him. You just weren’t sure how to articulate the very question that lays burning in your mouth, for fear of the fact you might be gazed upon with ranicid and covert questioning, like an ornery old bitch. Pointedly you stepped around the rubble, in turn you came across an old set-up, as if there used to be children here. A blanket laying upon the ground and the ravaged pillows, still in condition that you could say that was okay to be recycled for use. Still quite in a-okay position to sit down on, waiting for DogDay to finish scrambling around.
“So,” You began, lacing your fingers together and intertwining them purely out of your nerves spiking in your body as of right now. “What’s… the deal between you and Catnap?” Abruptly, at those words, his very being felt as if he tensed up. You couldn’t read him right now, suddenly incomprehensible to understand. 
“I suppose you should know about it, in order to really understand Catnap.” He motioned, steadily crawling over to where you sat. “Catnap was someone you could get along great with, quiet and not much of a talker, but actions speak louder than words Angel.” 
Then, there was a lapse in his words; DogDay was doing his best to keep himself steady and calm. He certainly couldn’t allow himself to fall apart in front of you, that is not very leader-like of someone such as DogDay.
“Oh, his actions spoke so much more for him than one little word.” He nodded, laying his head upon his crossed arms. DogDay had made himself comfortable as he shifted to a proper position. “But, things happened. Very bad things.” You were albeit surprised he was willingly sharing such information with you, as personal as it would appear. 
Still, you had remained muted, this was something that could conceivably help you in dealing with the nightmare cat later on. “Something had happened to him, something I wasn’t aware of. Angel, he.. wasn’t the same Catnap. He wasn’t my friend anymore.” Now, you could understand this well.
You yourself never had a good trade off within all your relationships, no matter what kind of relationship it was… be it; platonic, romantic, friends even! Humans are odd and sometimes indescribable in nature, but it simply has always been this way. But friends change, sometimes partially and even supernaturally.
In DogDay’s case, it was gruesome and religious. Catnap by no means was someone to act fool with, something you could pick out with merely just from first impressions. In passing, this was no offense whatsoever–personally that cat looked scary as hell.
“All my friends just,” Then, DogDay allowed himself to breathe again once more. “I wouldn’t wish it even on my own worst enemy.”
“The Prototype?” You snorted, shifting your weight from one end to the other as you gave him a benign quizzical look. 
“Angel.”
“I'm messing with you!” 
You waved him off, then put your hands in your lap. It was oddly endearing in how you behaved, the normalcy around here is rare, DogDay would admit. “So it seems, Prototype is his god. I don’t understand every detail, but The Prototype saved him.” He beckoned, recounting the mention of the Prototype from not even two minutes ago. 
“So Catnap began viewing this, Prototype as such?” You finished for him, tilting your head. Your companion nodded, lifting his head to recover proper eye contact with you. 
“Poppy, the rest who are on your side want nothing more to end the terror of the Prototype’s reign. Come to save me Angel, I thank you so much for that.” Honesty was a fickle thing for DogDay since recalling recent events, but had it come to you? The fearless dog didn’t mind. 
“Oh it’s nothing to be thanked for,” You grin at him, ever so slightly. But he’ll take that, “You were in so much pain. That’s a position no innocent person, or toy deserves to be in.”
DogDay had to consider this for a moment, so much consideration had been done lately. Yet, it was all done to simply understand the chaos underlying this factory, no doubt it had caused a lot of trauma (to many in this place) alone. “You're right about that, Angel, I suppose I had gotten too comfortable in all my reckless decadence.” Willfully, he was well aware of his actions as a leader. Some of which he had questioned why he had made them.
Your hand on his ragged-torn furred head had snapped DogDay out of his conscious thoughts, “We all deserve peace, that means you too DogDay.” 
You were right.
It seems there are still many things to be learned.
“You are far too kind to me.” He sighed, leaning into your hand. You never moved your hand away from him. 
“Though we should probably get you cleaned up.” That sentence alone suddenly broke the comfortable atmosphere, still much rather comedic however. 
“Right,” DogDay barked, as if he really was laughing. His whole body shook, it was rather a wave of happiness. Something he had not often felt, it had almost shocked him a little. “I believe they would have some bandages and towels nearby, water too.” Your companion then noted it would most likely be at a medical station somewhere.
You raised a brow at this, causing DogDay to nod with an air of laughter about him as he spoke once more whilst you had hoisted him over your shoulders. “I worked with children quite more often than not, you would be surprised at the amount of things that happen during playtime Angel.”
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xxwritemeastoryxx · 1 year
Text
Intertwined
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Author: xxwritemeastoryxx
Pairings: Elijah Mikaelson x Fem!Reader - Soulmate Au!
Word Count: 6.1K
Warnings: Angst, arguments, Elijah being overly protective but denying himself happiness as always, canon typical violence, a bit of fluff at the end.
Author’s Note: Because I'm apparently on a sequel kick, here's another. I promise I'm getting to the requests that I have and all the things I still need to work on from last year. I'm going where the muse takes me in my writing flow. So there's that. Also please note that you need to read Hidden Marks before reading this one.
I do not and will not ever give permission for my fics to be copied and posted on other sites. Don’t do it. Don’t be that person that ruins it for me and everyone else.Feedback gives me life and motivation for future things. While likes are appreciated, reblogs are gold. Seriously, if you enjoyed this in the slightest, please reblog ♥
Hidden Marks || TVDU Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Taglist
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It had been months since Elijah had seen the three intertwined circles on the middle of Y/N’s back that made up her soul mark. The first and only time he'd seen it, he'd been pulling a wooden bullet out from her back when she asked for his help. From the moment Elijah helped to remove the bullet, the mark haunted him. 
Seeing her mark should have been a great thing. It should have brought him some peace and happiness to see her mark. That her mark matched the very one he had just below his left clavicle. A perfect pair that made sense for how close they had become as friends over the century. If anything, since seeing her mark he's been conflicted on his feelings. 
Part of him wants and tries to be protective of her. His soulmate that had come into his life when he least expected it. The woman that had become his best friend over the century had been the one thing he never actively searched for. He now knew why she stepped into his life and never left. But it was the other part of him that caused him to fight daily with his feelings. 
Y/N would be in danger because of him. She would soon become a target if even the slightest word had slipped about who his soulmate was. An endless cycle he'd force her into if an enemy ever came knocking. Threats and being captured for the sole purpose of being leveraged against him. 
Not to mention if his brother had ever lost his temper with him. Klaus wasn't one to spare the women in Elijah's life before. What difference would it make this time? All it would take was one action that made Klaus feel the slightest ounce of betrayal and he'd take it out on her. 
Elijah was willing to take on the devil himself if Y/N was in danger. He was reminded of it any time she recklessly put herself in harm's way. An argument he had with her plenty of times during their friendship, but held a deeper meaning as of recently. 
He was also reminded daily how easily she could bend him to her will with a simple smile as she walked into the room. Or the occasional knowing look she'd give him when he or his siblings said something she didn't agree with that would almost instantly change his mind about the situation. Especially if she added in her details that would make it reckless on her part. 
But no matter how many times that feeling of comfort and love started to grow for the woman he believed he could only care for platonically, he could never voice it. He could never bring himself to mention the details that he knew. And because he chose to keep it to himself, it began the yoyo effect of wanting to keep her at a distance and keep her close for his own sanity. 
It hadn’t gone unnoticed by Y/N either. From the moment she offered him a night out to deal with the humans who had put the bullets into her back, she noticed something different. She noticed the way his demeanor changed around her. He grew worrisome over the smallest of things he never had before. And even fought with her longer over details of plans to help take down the threat the Mikaelsons had been faced with. 
She found herself frustrated on the days that he brushed her off and all but ignored her. He had never once been cold to her in the time that she had known him. They had pushed each other’s buttons on occasion, but Elijah had never once pushed her away like he had been doing now. Every time he did, it hurt more than Y/N had ever expected it to. 
They were close friends, she knew that. She knew there would always be moments that Elijah would pick his family over her. That there would be moments where he would keep his family safe and do anything he could to also keep her safe. She knew she was not the highest priority. But why did it feel like someone had staked her when he walked away from her when she felt she really needed him for a few moments?
That's when the thoughts of doubt had been planted in her head. Doubts that were formed and fueled to drive her insane for most of the night that made it almost impossible to sleep. What had she done to earn such coldness from someone that she was close with? Had she crossed a boundary that she had suddenly been unaware of? 
The final straw that broke her had been moments ago when she offered to go with him to deal with the beginning of a threat. It was always something they had done together. A way to have Elijah’s calm and calculated approach and her glimmer of chaos that would always work out in their favor. But when he told her to stay behind, she could no longer keep anything at bay anymore. 
The moment Elijah had told her to stay behind, her face fell at his words. And as he walked past her to leave his expression hadn’t changed. And as she turned to face him, she let it all out. 
“What have I done?” She asked, causing him to stop in his tracks. “Have I wronged you in some way that makes you no longer want to be around me?”
Elijah heard the way her voice cracked towards the end. He had hoped that his actions wouldn’t hurt her. But here she was asking what she had done to him when in reality it had been him to do it. He turned to face her and shook his head slightly. 
“No.” His voice was composed in comparison to hers. “You have done nothing at all.”
She shook her head as she crossed her arms. “I’ve known you for over a century, Elijah. I know well enough to know you are lying to me. If I’ve done nothing wrong there wouldn’t be this shift between us where it feels like you suddenly want nothing to do with me.”
“I assure you that if I had wanted nothing to do with you, you would not still be standing here.” It was as close to the truth he could go to without coming out right with it. “We are facing a potential threat that I feel as though I need to do this with my siblings. We have no idea what they are fully capable of and the last time I checked, you are not as indestructible as you believe.”
Elijah had no idea how this threat would continue to play in their lives. He had no idea what knowledge they planned to use against them in an attempt to try and take him and his family out. That was why Elijah wanted to do this without her. He wanted to make sure that she would remain safe. 
He didn’t want to take Y/N with him with the possibility of allowing them to get an inkling that Y/N had now meant more to him than he let on. He didn’t want her in danger from something he didn’t fully understand. This was the part of him that was willing to do anything to protect her. He just had to slightly push her away in order to do so. 
“That never stopped you before.” She noted as she took a step towards him. “I may not be an original, but I am still a whole lot older than a majority of the threats that walk into the city. I have proven myself over and over that I can handle my own. I’m even better by your side. But ever since you’ve seen my mark, it’s like you don’t want to be near me. All I want is the truth from you. Did I do something or did my mark tell you something that you haven’t told me?”
Elijah looked at the ground for a moment before looking back up to her. He could see the hurt in her eyes as she expressed everything. But he couldn’t bring himself to tell her even though every part of him wanted to. To bring some peace to her mind on his reasoning instead of making her feel as though she wasn’t wanted. 
“I’m going to try to make this as clear as I can." His voice was still even, almost void of any emotion. "This threat is not to be taken lightly. While we do not have the full specifics on who they are or why they are here, I do know they have come close to harming the people I care about." His eyes met hers. "While our normal plan pairs perfectly with the riff raff we deal with, at this moment it does not. So no, you will not accompany me tonight. I need you here." 
After taking in his words, all she could manage was a nod before he was gone from her sight. He didn’t even give her a chance to respond or fight him on what he was telling her. And it left Y/N feeling defeated. 
Her mind still tried to make sense of the changes that had come over the last few months. Every push and pull that happened between the two being analyzed as if it had been some rather important document or experiment being worked on. She was trying to find something, anything, to show what caused Elijah’s sudden change. No matter how many ways she thought about it, it only came back to one starting point: the night Elijah saw her mark. 
Had seeing it really thrown him off to not want to be near her like he had used to? Not showing them their marks had been a preference they decided on early in their friendships. If there was ever a day they felt comfortable in showing what it was, they would have. And that night, with a bullet in her back, it hadn’t mattered if Elijah had seen it or not. 
She ran a hand along her face, trying to shake off the thoughts that had kept her pacing her room for hours after he had left. She no longer cared about the mark or who she may have possibly shared it with. Why did that change now that Elijah had seen it?
It made her wonder if he had seen the mark on someone else. If there was a possibility that he felt guilty in some way after seeing it. There had been plenty of enemies in his existence. At some point he could have easily come across it and not realized it until he saw it on her back.
Did it belong to someone who had betrayed him? Had he seen it on someone that he had taken their life out of necessity? Or had this person been a victim of the many spells he had endured? 
Deep down she knew it was the fear of losing Elijah. Something she had thought about over the century and a half she had known him. Friendships can only last so long before one reason or another comes along. She knew plenty of people who had left her on the back burner after finding their soulmate, even during her human years. 
She had grown used to having Elijah in her life. It would take her longer to find a memory that didn’t involve Elijah versus the ones with. Over the years she had become dependent on the fact that Elijah had always been there for her just as she was for him. He was a constant and part of her hated the thought of her ever losing that. 
At the thought, Y/N had felt her heart sink. A simple thought putting everything into perspective to her. The idea may have been formed from past experiences, but it all made sense. Elijah must have found his soulmate. And if that was the case, she was sure this was the beginning of being put further back on the burner.  
“Y/N?!” Rebekah’s panicked voice had broken her from her thoughts, causing her to move quickly to find Rebekah. 
Upon reaching the courtyard, a gasp left her lips as she found Rebekah dragging a half standing Elijah towards the couch. The majority of his clothing had been covered in blood. Parts of the fabric had been torn in several places. It was as if Elijah had picked a battle he couldn’t win. 
“What the hell happened?” Y/N asked as she moved to help get Elijah settled on the couch. Her eyes had still been taking him in, accessing his injuries. 
“Witches.” Elijah breathed out as he tried to get a hold of reality. He had lost enough blood and his mind had been a distorted mess from the magic he had been subjected to. 
“Everything had been going according to plan but whatever spell they used on him, it threw him off course.” Rebekah took the moment to leave the room to get items they needed to help Elijah for the time being until Freya could get back there. The moment she was back she continued. “The others are still there dealing with them.” 
Seeing the items Rebekah had brought, Y/N reached for the towel that had been sitting in a bowl of water and began cleaning off the blood from Elijah’s face and neck. “I can understand the disorientation, but what the hell ripped into him?” 
There was panic rising within Y/N. She hated that he had made her stay behind. She could have been there to help him in some way. Been there to help prevent him from being hurt as he was now. 
"Between the spell and some of the wolves within the vicinity, he couldn't watch his back." Rebekah said as she picked up another towel and folded it before placing it on Elijah's forehead. Afterwards she began picking up little containers of what Y/N could only assume were herbs and salves that Freya had instructed her to use for the time being. 
As Y/N ran the towel over his neck, Elijah lifted his hand to her hand, stilling her movements. It caused her to look up at him. His eyes had been looking over her face, before they settled on her eyes.
"You're safe." His voice was barely above a whisper. 
She nodded her head. "I am safe. You made sure I was." She wasn't sure if that was what he needed to relax more as she attempted to help clean him. "Freya will be here soon." 
With that, Elijah seemed to relax his hold and it allowed for her to continue wiping up the blood. So far it looked as though any of the injuries he sustained were healing. It may have been at a whole lot of a slower pace, but his wounds were healing. But the moment her hand moved to remove the shredded fabric stuck to his skin along his left shoulder and chest, his hand grabbed a hold of her wrist, not wanting her to continue. 
"I need to make sure your wounds are healing Elijah." She said softly as she brought her eyes up to his once more. "Or to at least give me the peace of mind that this looks way worse than it is." 
"For once let someone take care of you." Rebekah added and pulled his hand away from Y/N. It had been too easy to remove his hand. His strength is almost non-existent given what he'd been through. 
Elijah hated that he couldn't get his mind to process the protest he wanted to give. He hated that he couldn't give a strong enough response to say he'd deal with it later. But the spell within his mind made it difficult to think clearly for more than a second or two at a time. 
Elijah’s eyes never left Y/N’s face as she began to move the fabric away from his chest. He didn't care about the wounds he was facing. He didn't even care that Y/N and Rebekah were caring for him. It was what laid just under the layers of fabric she was removing, that had him worried. 
Quickly dipping the towel into the bowl of water between her and Rebekah, Y/N brought it back up to his chest and began to rid him of the drying blood. There was a part of her that was relieved to not see some gaping wound that he was trying to prevent her from seeing. 
That relief soon turned into curiosity as the blood was being wiped away. The beginning of Elijah's mark became clear as day. With each wipe of the towel the mark continued to grow. And as last of the reminisce of blood was removed from the mark, she all but dropped the towel. 
Just below his left clavicle had been three intertwined circles. It ran horizontally across his skin in the exact same way it ran across the middle of her back. And for a moment she fought herself on reaching out just to run her fingers along the mark. A need to make sure it was really there. 
Elijah had watched her the whole time. Even through his hazed mind he could see the way relief had flooded her eyes before her brows began to furrow. The curiosity in her eyes had been evident and there was nothing Elijah could do to fully protest in his current state. All he could do was watch her as she learned what he had months ago. 
Her soulmate had been right there in front of her for over a century.  
Her eyes snapped to him and Elijah could see several emotions flash through her eyes. He could see the way there was a sliver of excitement before hurt filled them as she tried to stop the tears from welling up. 
"What is it?" Rebekah asked as she caught on that Y/N had stopped her movements. 
Y/N shook her head slightly before looking away from Elijah. "Nothing worth noting." She said as she went back to wiping the blood. 
She kept her eyes away from the mark and as best as she could from keeping them from looking up at Elijah. She could feel his eyes on her. But she refused to look his way. 
All of her wild thoughts that had been going through her head earlier had only been partially right. She honestly never thought this was the case. And if she was being honest with herself, this felt worse. 
He had found his soulmate like she thought.  But she hadn't expected it to be herself. Not with the way he had pulled himself away from her during the course of the last few months. Not with the way she felt that she was losing her best friend. 
Elijah knew that he was her soulmate and he didn't tell her. There wasn't an excitement at knowing that the person they spent decades with had been the one person they both chose not to actively look for. Their life had been great just as it was. Until Elijah saw her mark. 
She tried to stop the spiral of thoughts that began to form. It was already too late to try to spare her heart the pain it was currently feeling. No matter how hard she tried to focus on helping Rebekah take care of him, one single thought played in her mind on a constant loop. 
He knew they were soulmates and he tried pushing her away. 
The moment Freya came running into the courtyard with Klaus and Kol behind her, Y/N pulled herself slowly away from the side of the couch. It was a way to not only keep the now unwanted attention of her facial expressions away but to give the necessary space Freya would need. 
When she moved a little too far for Elijah’s liking, his hand grabbed a hold of hers. This time his grip was tighter in comparison to earlier. He was getting better, stronger. The venom from the wolf bites was leaving his system while the spell kept a tight hold over him.
Y/N's eyes met his one more time. She could tell he was pleading with her to stay there with his eyes. Almost to say that once Freya helped him he'd explain everything to her. That he needed her to stay there.
There was something in her eyes that changed a moment after his words had pierced the air. “Would you tell me if you saw the mark on someone else?” 
“Of course.” He said even though it had been a lie. He knew he wasn’t going to speak of the very mark that was on his chest. 
Her heart ached at the sudden memory that filled her mind. She wanted to break down. She wanted to run to get fresh air. Do anything that would allow her to process the information she had been given in the last few minutes. 
Freya came over and knelt down beside Elijah, giving Y/N the chance to pull her hand away from Elijah. She took several back as she tried to decide if she wanted to stay or leave the area. But a heartbeat later she was mumbling some excuse and left the courtyard. 
It was only when she was safely behind the door of her room, she felt more clarity than she had downstairs. The wave of emotions she felt calmed in comparison.  While silent tears had begun falling, it hadn't felt like her world had come crashing to a halt as it had. 
"For as many times as I've come here to hide away, there's never been another person here." Y/N said as she took in the stranger. "Might have to find a new one if this one is compromised." 
"I can assure you, I've known about this place for a lot longer than you." The stranger looked towards her. "I may have been out of the city for some time, but I will know more about the history than you ever will.”
A laugh passed her lips causing a smile to form on his lips. “What if I told you I watched that town in the distance be built?”
His eyebrow raised slightly before he looked towards the town she had been speaking of. “I’d then ask if you knew what was out there before the town was built.”
“A small village.“ She responded.  “One that was destroyed just a few years after I was born. There are stories of a creature that roamed the woods that surrounded that village. A creature that was hunted but never killed.” She shrugged her shoulders before looking back towards the stranger. “Though I’d love to hear what you have that can top that.”
He laughed for a moment before he placed his hand out between them. “I’m Elijah. And I assure you, I can surpass any story you’ve been told about the area.”
“That’s a challenge I’m willing to take.” She said as she placed her hand in his. “I'm Y/N.”
That year Y/N needed to get away from the life she had found herself in after being a vampire for a few centuries already. The mountaintop just above the town she was born in had always been her go to place to reevaluate her life as a human and as a vampire. That night, Y/N had been debating on watching the sunrise for the last time. 
But Elijah had been there to pull her thoughts away from the sunrise and into a life that she had now thrived in. Elijah had been there when she needed him the most. Her soulmate had been the one to pull her back from the edge and she never knew it until now.
Elijah had saved her that night. He saved her and it wasn't long after he paid off a witch to create a daylight ring for her. A friendship shouldn't be had just in the dark. Those had been his words as he held up the daylight ring for her to take a few minutes before sunrise a few weeks later.
Her heart picked up in pace as her mind continued to accept everything that happened. The details of their meeting to this current moment made sense from a soulmate perspective. No matter how many times the flashes of memories played through her mind, there was no changing the facts. 
"What if I don't want to marry my soulmate?" A young Y/N asked as she kicked her shoe at the dirt. 
Her mother's laugh filled the air. "You don't always have to marry your soulmate. Sometimes it depends on what best suits the both of you. Your soulmate can be a best friend or even a lover. Sometimes they're both." She knelt down to Y/N's height. "There's one thing I know though. Having them in your life in any form is a whole lot better than not having them in your life or losing them. So when you are able to meet the person that knows your soul without needing to try hard, fight as hard as you can. Fight with them, for them and alongside them as needed." She ran her hand along Y/N’s cheek. "I know this doesn't make a lot of sense right now, but I promise one day you'll understand. "
The sound of the knock on her door followed by the door slowly opening had pulled her out of her thoughts and memories. Without even looking she had already known it was Elijah. She quickly wiped at her cheeks before she turned towards the door. 
The moment she had, Elijah could see that the whirlwind of emotions he saw earlier in her eyes had shifted. Even as her eyes welled up, he could see the hurt along with acceptance. And if he was being honest with himself, the acceptance is what scared him. 
He took a few steps further into her room before he came to a stop. "What I've done was-" 
"Cowardice?" She finished for him before he got the chance to even form the next word. It made him raise his brow. "Because whatever reasoning you have for not telling me was the worst decision you have ever made. And I know there have been plenty of questionable decisions you've made." 
"I know I should have told you that night." He gave a slight nod. "For a brief moment I wanted to. But then I realized the danger you would be in because of me." 
She had already begun shaking her head before he finished speaking. "Danger that I haven't already been in from just being close with you. Or to your siblings for that matter." She watched as he opened his mouth to speak but she quickly continued to stop him. "I know it's not the same. Putting it out there makes it more real and practically puts a target on both of us. I know what that target looks like. That just means we'll be better prepared for it." 
She knew from experience how easy it was to use a soulmate as leverage. How easy it was to threaten them to get someone to bend to their will. There was a dark decade in Y/N's existence where she had once toyed with humans and their soulmates. A time where her humanity had been switched and she hadn't cared. 
She knew the tricks that could be played. She knew how much damage someone could take before they snapped. The emotional torment that could be played on both parties to get the point across was something she lived for during that dark decade. 
At least that was until her humanity had been forcefully switched on. She tormented herself afterwards on how she could carelessly manipulate people by using the one weakness they all had. It was part of the reason she found herself heading back to the mountaintop. 
"If today has taught me anything it's that you were safer without me near." He watched as her eyebrow raised before he continued. "While having you by my side would have been beneficial for many reasons, I watched as my worst fear played through my mind because of a spell. A spell that provided sufficient reasons on why I was right on my decision to not say anything." 
"A spell that was used to distract you.” She noted. It explained why he had seemed so relieved at seeing her safe. "And a fear that we could have worked out beforehand if you simply had told me. I spent the last several hours wondering how and when I had become the problem. Part of me knew that you had found your soulmate and that was why you were pushing me away. That maybe you were trying to distance yourself from me to make room for them." Her eyes began to well up. "I just never thought you'd be pushing me away because I am your soulmate."
Elijah shook his head slightly as guilt filled him. He could see in that moment how hurt she had been by it. The emotions she had displayed when he first came into the room broke down bit by bit. And the thought that she believed she was the problem stung him in ways he never believed it would. 
"I don't know if I can be what you need me to be." He said a moment later. "It has been proven time and again that whenever I let an ounce of happiness into my life, it's quickly taken away. I refuse to have the same thing happen to you. And if that means keeping you at a distance or even you leaving the city-" 
"Nothing has to change!" She cut him off as she shook her head. "We have been by each other's side for over a century without even knowing we were soulmates. We have been through hell and back together without even questioning how it was possible. I have fought by your side not caring if I died in the process." She wiped at her cheeks as more tears escaped. "I will continuously be by your side even after this. I don't care if it is as something more or keeping things as it has been. But don't you dare for one moment think that I would be safer with you pushing me away or even deciding that it's better without you in my life." 
He sighed softly before taking a few steps to close the distance between them. "If anything were to ever happen to you because of me, I'd never be able to forgive myself." His hand came up to her cheek before using his thumb to wipe away more of her tears. 
"It's going to happen with or without you in my life." Her eyes met his. "I am no stranger to being threatened by your family. I have had Klaus's hand on my heart and I'm still here in front of you." She placed her hand on top of his as she leaned into his touch slightly.  A way to prove that she was there. "I am not even a stranger to having a witch use me as leverage or even used to fight against you. I can leave tonight and what's to stop anyone from coming after me once it's actually figured out?" She watched as he took in her words. "This isn't just one sided either. I am afraid of what each new threat could mean for you. I want and need you to be safe, maybe even for my own selfish reasons. But I will not let you push me away without at least fighting to stay. I will continue to be by your side no matter how much you push. I will stand there by your side and face the enemy with you and die there with you if it comes to it. I will continue to be your friend or more if that is what you need and you'll never have to worry that I'll leave you. But I will not let you try and push me out of your life for the fear of what could possibly happen to me just because you're afraid to let yourself be happy."
Elijah's eyes never left hers as she spoke. He couldn't bring himself to look away from her. Not when he was seeing everything play through her eyes. Every emotion, every piece of history and hopeful future had been displayed within them. And he could no longer ignore what he'd been trying to avoid. 
He knew everything she said was right. He would hate himself if anything happened to her while she was gone. He couldn’t even begin to imagine how it would feel if he ever learned the news that something had happened to her. He couldn't ignore the fact that throughout the years and even now she was fighting for her place to stay no matter how hard he tried to keep her at bay and safe in his eyes. 
The same safety that he had been trying to provide her since the night they met. How broken her eyes had looked from the moment she took a seat next to him on that mountain top. And how everything within him had told him to protect her from anything. Even himself if it ever came to it. 
But as he looked into her eyes now, he could see the woman that had become his best friend.  The woman that stood there beside him as threat after threat came. How she cared for him in his moments of need even though he fought her on it. The one person he couldn’t go more than a few days without speaking with. It was why the thought of losing her scared him even more than he ever believed. 
After a moment, Elijah nodded his head. “I give you my word that I will not push you away or ask you to leave.” His thumb gently moved along her cheek. He watched as something changed within her eyes. “I don't believe I could actually watch you leave, let alone be alone out there in the world. Nor can I picture a day where you are not in my life in some form or another. You have your selfish reasons and I have mine. But I have never wished for you to look so hurt as you have today and I will spend as much time as needed to make up for it. ” He looked elsewhere for a moment before looking back at her. “I just don’t know how things will change from here.”
The part of Y/N’s heart that expected the worst had felt relief. Relief that he wasn’t going to continue to push her away. Relief that he was willing to accept that they were soulmates and that she wasn’t going to go down or leave without a fight. And if anything, there was a small tug of a smile at her lips at his words. 
“We continue as friends, just as we have.” She offered. “If in the future things change, we’ll go from there.”
A hum of agreement passed his lips as he pulled his hand away from her. As he did, He maneuvered his hand to take a hold of her’s, finding comfort in just holding her hand within his. Her offer of nothing needing to change played in his ears.
There was something within him that agreed with that. Mixed within the agreement was the hope that things would change for the better. But for now this was a step in the right direction. A step that meant he wasn’t going to push her away as he had planned to. It was in a direction that he strongly believed he’d never lose her in the way that he feared.
“We’ll handle things as we always have.” He nodded his head, a small smile pulling at his lips. 
“Together?” She asked as a small hopeful smile pulled at her lips. 
She could joke about how they would work together as she always had in the past. She could have added in how reckless they could be. How the calm and chaosbetween them would keep things interesting. But at that moment, she only needed the confirmation that it would continually be them against everything else that came at them.
“Together.” He promised with no intention of ever breaking that promise. Even when the world learned of the mark they share, he’d keep his promise and keep each other close to their sides. As a friend, as a potential lover, but most importantly as soulmates that would never have to live without the other. 
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1K notes · View notes
melancholyhigh · 9 months
Note
sooo... i just read your "sunrise" fic and i'm obsessed. the plot was great and the way you narrated the feelings and the setting??? i'm in love. i live for your subby!leon. i don't know if you're taking requests right now but i would love to read more about him:)
MIDDAY.
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ft. brother’s best friend!leon x afab!reader
synopsis. your mom thinks leon is a bad influence on your brother, but only if she knew how much of a good boy he is.
content. 0.6k words. smut. subby leon, handjob, begging, praise kink, thigh riding (?), edging, marking, sneaking around.
note. ty for the requests anon !! <33 it’s basically a 1.5 to sunrise. sorry for being so inactive :( tryna get through some requests <3 lmk if u guys would like a full sequel to sunrise tho!!
masterlist. reblogs & comments are appreciated :3
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You couldn’t fathom how your mother could dislike Leon. He was one of your brother’s friends who didn’t actively try to be a nuisance to your neighbourhood, and it was shocking when they even became acquaintances – let alone best friends. 
She says he’s a bad influence on your brother, but he’s the kindest boy ever met. You must be biased because you think he’s a very good boy. He’s especially good when he’s beneath you, his blue eyes brimmed with tears, begging you to let him come, but, oh, doesn’t your perfect boy have such nice manners?
“Please, please, please, ‘m so close,” he’s sobbing as you continue to move your hand up and down his throbbing cock. Your digits are stained with tacky precum, thumbing the sensitive head. He was so gorgeous, rosy cheeks stained with tears, and his lips all swollen and slick with spit.
You told him a few minutes ago to quiet down — you’ll get caught, but he continues to whine and plead. You're beginning to think he wants to be seen at your mercy, crying for you. His soft whimpers and quiet moans get you aroused, soaking through your shorts, and Leon can feel you on his thighs where you’ve made yourself comfortable. It drove him mad when you rut against him, trying to soothe the ache between your legs that he caused.
He wants nothing more than for you to strip down and sit on his face for him to lap at your cunt like a starved man. Instead, you are entranced with him, admiring the cute expressions he makes when you give his dick a firm squeeze. He’d say it’s humiliating if it didn’t feel so good to be under you, panting and sobbing.
Arching his back, Leon feels his impending orgasm creep up on him, only to dissipate rather than crash when you cease your movements on his erection entirely. Head digging further into your pillow, he whines loudly, only to be muffled by your lips moving against his. Despite the seemingly delicate way in which you touch his body, your lips are hungry against his, tasting him as you stifle his moans.
Your lips trail from his to the sensitive skin of his neck, sucking red marks that were too difficult to hide, but that was the point. Your brother had congratulated him for finally getting some when he saw the purplish bruises on his fair skin. He chuckled at the irony of him fucking his sibling, boyishly rubbing the back of his neck.
“P- please, fuck, angel. Can I come?” he pleads. Leaning back on his thighs, you let your nails scrape the flesh on his chest and stomach, allowing red scratches to rise in its paths. He feels you shift on his thighs, subtly grinding your needy cunt on him as he begs for your attention on his cock. 
You had been denying his release for too long now, but you finally had time with him for yourself, so you wanted to abuse it to the best of your ability. When he peers up at you, gripping your hips so eagerly as moans slip past his parted lips, you want to give him to the moon and more. 
“You’ve been so good f’me, Leon. So pretty ‘nd obedient. I think you deserved to come,” you whisper back to him, gripping his length once more and pumping him slowly. Your words are almost enough to make him come undone into an incoherent mess, and when you squeeze the tip of his cock, his soft tummy clenches as ropes of his thick cum spurt out his overtly sensitive dick onto his chest.
Peppering his face with kisses, you mumble soft praises as you take care of him.
“You’re such a good boy for me, baby. I love you s’much.”
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fatuismooches · 9 months
Text
fabulam diu oblitus - sequel.
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synopsis: The tale of the raven and the sparrow has ended, but that doesn't mean it can't start again.
includes: dottore w/ gn! reader
notes: This is the fifth and final part of this fic, please read the other four before this! This is a fluffier continuation of the last part in order to soothe your hearts from the last part. Thank you to each and every one of you who supported me with this fic, it was a wonderful experience and I hope you all enjoyed it! Now, let's wrap up the tale of the raven and sparrow once and for all. (Also, I realize that this part may seem a bit reader-centric, but I hope it's still good!)
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prelude. first interlude. second interlude. postlude. sequel.
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It had been years since the Traveler had attended their first Akademiya Extravaganza. It was a marvelous experience. It had also been years since the old sages were overthrown, the Balladeer’s attempt to become a God, and of course, the deletion of the Doctor’s segments as well as the death of the Omega build.
But why was the Traveler still in Teyvat? Since they still had yet to find their treasured sibling, their journey persisted. And so they and their traveling companion had found themselves back in Sumeru for another fun festival. Paimon had already had her fill of games and yummy food, so now they were going to see a performance, by the one and only Nilou. Their friend often danced, but today would be a special one since it was during the festival.
“Oh wow! Zubayr Theater is so much more lively than usual!” Paimon exclaimed. Indeed, there was a large crowd gathered below the stage, all of them excited to watch the dancer’s performance. But there was one person who caught Paimon’s eye. Someone was sitting by themselves, away from the crowd.
“Huh? Look over there, someone is sitting all alone. Do you think they’re okay?”
“Paimon, just because someone is by themselves doesn’t mean they’re in trouble. Maybe they don’t like being around large groups of people.”
“Oh… Paimon knows that! But maybe we should check on them, just in case. We still have some time before Nilou’s performance.” The Traveler gave in to their friend’s request and the pair made their way over to you. But you were too lost in your thoughts to notice them coming.
Your illness still remained, but with all the years that had passed by, at least it wasn’t as bad as it was before. It didn’t totally dominate your life, and you were able to do some things by yourself that you couldn’t do before! It wasn’t a cure, but it was something. Though of course there were bad days, the good days were the ones you focused on more. Good days such as today.
You were back in Sumeru after hundreds of years. You never thought it would happen but, one day your husband came to you and told you the news so casually, you thought you were dreaming. You? Leaving Snezhnaya? It felt unreal! If you were stronger, you would have tackled him to the floor with your love, but alas you had to settle for squeezing him as hard as you could. 
Though, to be honest, you weren’t sure if the Fatui actually had business there, or if he wanted to bring you there since you’d been longing for it for so long. (But it seemed unlikely that Pierro would give him vacation days…) Regardless, your joy was received by him adequately as you peppered his face with kisses.
So now you were here, in your home country. Of course, there were numerous top-tier Fatui agents assigned to you in disguise, always trailing behind with great skill, since Dottore was never going to let you be by yourself. But you didn’t really mind. The past few days had been the most fun you’d had in so long! (If only Dottore could join you. Obviously, he couldn’t in broad daylight… not to mention whatever duties he had.)
As you remember it, each Darshan had set up booths for the Wisdom Gala with a ton of interesting mini-games and other stuff. Though the concept was the same, you were once again realizing how things had changed over the centuries you were asleep… these games were truly novel! You were impressed at the creativity because it was nothing like this when you were a student!
One that was funny was when you were given a mallet… yes a mallet, to hit these little wooden fungi that kept popping up and down in different spots. You were given a question and each of the fungi had a different answer. You had to whack the one with the right answer. Now, figuring out the answer wasn’t the question, but rather hitting them. With your illness, lugging this thing quickly enough to smack them was not an easy task… but it was fun! Hehe, you knew Zandy would have whacked all of them anyway. Ugh, you were really feeling robbed now… the best things always happen in school after you already left.
Though your favorite game was the gear puzzles. You were given multiple gears of different sizes and had to insert them to make all of them eventually turn. You ended up finishing them at record speed, causing a whole swarm of Kshahrewar students around you, begging you to join their Darshan. It was a good thing one of your agents caused a distraction elsewhere for you to swiftly escape… Hmm, maybe you should ask Dottore to make these for you, so you could occupy your mind.
Ahh, not to mention the food… the delicious, authentic Sumerian cuisine that you missed so much. Although some things had naturally changed over four hundred years, it was as yummy as you remembered it. You always packaged some so you could share with Dottore (especially the sweets.) At the end of the day, or when you were tired, you were always escorted back to him. The location was secluded of course, for privacy and safety reasons. Your husband would listen to you ramble about quite literally everything, as you explored Sumeru City thoroughly, not just the festival. Even though he already knew everything you spoke about, he liked seeing your curiosity be indulged in.
But today was different. Today you decided to witness the performances going on in the theater. You had always liked watching them (Columbina often invited you to them) in Snezhnaya, so now you wanted to see what Sumeru had to offer. Four hundred years ago, the Akademiya looked down and shamed the arts far more than they do today. Non-academic writing, drawing, sculpting, acting, singing, dancing, you name it. There was no such thing as the Grand Bazaar or Zubayr Theater. Though you didn’t live here anymore, you were very pleased to see how much the arts were appreciated now, as they should be. Especially that red-haired girl, her dancing was awe-inspiring. You had seen her practice before the performance for a few days, and it was beautiful! If only things were like this when you were a student here…
“Hello there! You’re sitting all the way over here by yourself, are you okay?” A squeaky voice interrupted your reminiscing and you turned to see who it was.
The Traveler and Paimon… It seemed that you were blankly staring at them for too long because the floating one spoke again.
“Um… are you okay?” 
“Oh! I’m fine, sorry, sorry, I just spaced out for a second there,” you apologetically waved them off. This was going to be a bit annoying.
A while ago, you had decided to let go. Let go of the pain, of any possible thoughts of revenge, of the sheer grief you suffered from your loss. Because continuing to work yourself up like that would only worsen your illness and mental state. For the most part, you’d been successful, living each day as best you could along with your husband. You still thought about the segments though, always thankful for what they did for you.
But now that the Traveler stood in front of you in flesh and blood, your composure wavered a little. This was the same person who killed Omega. You couldn’t help but feel a twinge of hatred, but you relaxed with a deep breath.
“That’s okay! Well, Paimon is Paimon, and this here is the Traveler. We saw you here by yourself and just wanted to see if you were alright!” The blonde nodded in affirmation.
“Ah, I see. There’s no need to worry about me. My body can’t handle standing for so long, so it’s better for me to sit, even if I’m a bit far away from the stage.” There was no harm in telling them right off the bat because you had a feeling that Paimon’s line of questioning would make you reveal your illness anyway. She talked a lot, according to your fellow Fatuis.
“Huh? Are you injured?”
“No, it’s just my illness. My body struggles to do many things a healthy person would, so I need to be careful.” The pair nodded at you in sympathy.
“Oh… Paimon is sorry about that. That sounds really tough…” 
“It’s alright. It’s been like this for many years, so I’ve grown accustomed to it.” The fairy placed her hand on her chest in understanding before she brightened.
“Ah, Paimon has a good idea! Why don’t we keep you company during the performance? You know, we’ve been here loads of times and are even friends with Nilou! We can definitely tell you some cool things!”
“Oh, that sounds… nice.” You smiled at them, not because you liked them, but more because you were interested in their stories about this place. Paimon cheered and the Traveler took a seat near you. It made your skin crawl a bit, but you didn’t show any outward reaction.
“Say, Paimon never asked your name.”
“You can call me [Name].” The only person who knew you in this country was the Dendro Archon, and you doubted they would tell her about you, so there was no point in using another name. Also that was too much work.
“So [Name], is this your first time in Sumeru? We can show you all the best restaurants if you need it!” Ah, so the agents were also accurate when they said she liked food a lot. And the fact the Traveler was silent most of the time.
“No, I used to live here. But, I moved away a long time ago, so this is my first time back in many years.”
“That sounds nice. It must feel good to be back, huh? It’s too bad the Interdarshan Championship isn’t taking place this year. That would have been lots of fun!” Paimon sighed, memories of the last one flowing through her mind. Ah yes, you remember that as well. You and Zandik were never chosen as nominees of course… but it was a fun event to observe. For you at least. Zandik would always go on about how foolish the competitors were, how they couldn’t see how simple the seemingly difficult challenge was. You always laughed at his criticism.
“Mhm, it’s too bad. Maybe I can come back another time to see that.”
“Yeah, you definitely should! Speaking of, did you come here with anyone?”
“Yes, my husband accompanied me here. But he’s working right now, so I’m by myself.”
“Aww, that’s too bad. It must be lonely to enjoy a festival by yourself, huh?”
“Perhaps a little bit, but I do not mind. He’s taken care of me for countless years along with his work duties, it’s more than enough for me to even have the opportunity to experience this festival.”
“Wow, you two really do sound like a loving couple!”
“Hehe, yes… yes, we are,” you had started to smile loopily at the thought of Dottore and ignored the look the Traveler and Paimon gave you. But your attention returned when the stage lights flickered on and the crowd started to simmer down.
“Looks like the performance is starting! Oh, Paimon can’t wait to see what Nilou has in store this time!” You were excited to see it as well.
The performances were delightful. The play was well-acted and interesting, and the red-haired girl’s dance at the end was beautiful. Huh… you wish they had more festivals like this in Snezhnaya. Or maybe they did, and you didn’t know about them. You’d have to ask Bina about that when you return.
“That was so, so touching,” Paimon sniffed as the Traveler comforted their friend. You couldn’t help but agree as well. “We have to go say hi to Nilou now!” The Traveler and Paimon rose as you watched them.
“Just stay here [Name], we’ll be back in a few minutes!” You smiled at them as they went off to greet their friend before you quickly dropped your expression. Stay? With them? Nah, you had enough for today. You wanted to go back to Dottore now and bother him to let you cuddle him on his lap. So when they weren’t looking, you slipped out of the theater, and your bodyguards slyly followed, attracting the attention of no one.
Ah, you had a lot of things to say to Dottore now, didn’t you…
“Huh? Where did [Name] go?” When the pair returned, you were gone.
“They must have left. I bet it’s because you were asking them so many questions, Paimon,” the Traveler teased her.
“Hey! Paimon was being friendly and they didn’t seem to mind! Anyway, let’s go outside. It’s only been a few minutes, maybe they’re still around.” The pair exited and walked around the city for a bit, but you had already disappeared into thin air.
“Traveler, Paimon! It’s nice to see you again!” A gentle voice called out to them. It was Nahida, who walked up to them with a bright smile on her face. The other two responded in kind.
“Oh, hey Nahida! Long time no see, huh?”
“Yes, it’s been quite a while. You must come over for a bit and tell me about your travels sometime. I guess you’ve been enjoying the Akademiya Extravaganza, right?”
“Yup! Traveler and Paimon enjoyed a lot of fun games and delicious food! And then we went to see some performances at the theater, and now we were looking for someone, but eh, it’s not really important anymore.”
“Hmm? Looking for who?”
“Just someone we met a few hours ago at the theater. Their name is [Name].” The Dendro Archon’s eyes widened at the mention of your name, immediately straightening up.
“[Name]? Did you say [Name]?” The Traveler and Paimon noticed the God’s surprised expression and inquired about it.
“Yeah, do you know them, Nahida?”
“I… I can’t believe it. Do they happen to look like…” Nahida then went off to give a brief description of you, and the Traveler confirmed that you indeed matched her words. Paimon was a bit worried.
“Nahida, why are you asking us this? You’re making it seem like we were talking to a long-lost criminal or something.”
“Well, I suppose that wouldn’t be too far off. This [Name] that you’ve met is… part of the Fatui. But that’s not the big part. They’re the Doctor’s lover.” It was silent for a few seconds before Paimon responded, nearly yelling as the Traveler’s jaw dropped.
“The man [Name] is married to is THE DOCTOR?!”
“Oh, so they’re married now? Last time I heard they weren’t.”
“Nahida, surely you must be mistaken, right? You’re far too casual about this, no one could be dating the Doctor of their own free will!” Nahida was about to respond when yet another voice interrupted.
“She’s not lying.” A familiar voice echoed from somewhere and the group turned to face it. It was the former Sixth Harbinger, standing to the side, braced against the wall. “That [Name] is indeed the partner of Dottore. I met them while I was in the Fatui.”
“Ahh… Paimon’s head hurts…” The Traveler nodded in agreement as they too rubbed their head at this revelation. “But why? Why would they want to be with the Doctor?”
“It’s futile to ask me about their relationship,” the puppet scoffed. “I cannot begin to comprehend how the two of them supposedly love each other. I’ve spoken to them a few times…” the puppet thought back to those encounters in the lab, “but our conversations did little to enlighten me on the nature of their relationship.”
“[Name] and Dottore have a long history together. It’s… complicated, but I’m not lying when I say they’ve been together for centuries. But what concerns me is that if [Name] is here, then the Doctor must be close by as well… and the Fatui too… He wouldn’t let them roam around all by themselves.”
“Oh no! That’s right, [Name] said that their husband accompanied them here. So that means the Doctor is in Sumeru!”
“I see… the Matra would have noticed if a boat of Fatui arrived at the port… so that means the other agents must be well disguised. But nothing has happened lately. Sumeru has been at peace like usual, there’s nothing that the Fatui have been digging their nose into recently. I wonder…” the God of Wisdom began to mumble to herself while Wanderer merely looked on.
“Paimon would have never guessed they were in the Fatui… do you think they were lying about their illness too?”
“No, they are indeed afflicted with a mysterious illness. From what I know, [Name] used to be quite a formidable force four hundred years ago. But their illness gradually sapped their strength away from them, leaving them as they are now… so they have virtually no physical prowess anymore.”
“Oh… that’s quite sad. Wait, but that doesn’t change the fact they’re part of the Fatui, with the Doctor no less! They’re our enemy, no doubt!”
“That’s not to mean [Name] is weak. Although their mind has certainly been ravaged by many things, they possess a strong will. Not to mention, they are the one and only Doctor’s close confidant. I’m sure if pressed, they have some tricks up their sleeves.”
“We have to do something! The Fatui are always up to no good, I bet they have some horrible, evil plan to… to… ruin the Akademiya Extravaganza! We can’t let them do that!” Paimon exclaimed while the Traveler nodded in complete agreement. “Nahida, what’s the plan?”
“The plan is to let them be.”
“H-Huh? Nahida, you’re just going to let them go?”
“That’s correct, Paimon.”
“Lesser Lord Kusanali, are you sure?” Even Wanderer, who usually went along with the God albeit with some moaning and groaning, had an objection.
“The festival has been going on for several days now, and tomorrow is the last day. If the Fatui truly were planning something, it would have been done by now. And to be honest, I suspect that the only reason the Doctor made the trip here was for…” You, Nahida wanted to say, but then decided against it. She wasn’t one hundred percent sure, after all. “Actually, never mind. Don’t worry about it, Traveler, Paimon. But if you happen to see them tomorrow, you could speak to them again. I am admittedly… interested in [Name].”
“Well… alright Nahida. We trust you.”
While the group was busy chatting about you, you were making your way back to Dottore. It was already evening, and all you wanted to do was relax in the embrace of your beloved. However today, the Fatui agents were escorting somewhere else rather than your temporary home. Where? The more you walked, the quicker you realized.
The large Ruin Golem in the mountains of Sumeru’s forest.
Seeing it from a distance brought back fond memories for you. You remember the first time you and Zandik entered it. He was incredibly fascinated with it and literally spent hours in it. Of course, you were forced to stay with him and help him with all the research and note-taking. But looking back, it was fun. And you may or may not have kissed him a lot in there, and he was very annoyed at you breaking his focus, but did nothing to stop you.
This same spot, near the Ruin Golem, was also a frequent star-gazing spot. Because he would spend so long there, even until night fell, and you kept insisting it’d be romantic to watch the stars here. He didn’t really agree but… Zandik surprisingly indulged you more than you realized.
Soon, you were much closer to the Ruin Golem and Dottore was in sight, waiting for you. The Fatui agents bowed to you as you dismissed them and made your way over to your husband, who was patiently waiting for you while gazing at the large robot in front of him. You wondered if he had finished his work, for him to be wasting time like this.
(In reality, there was no real mission in Sumeru. The five-day long trip was done to indulge your long-time wishes. Pierro had only let Dottore go on it if he managed to finish at least three-quarters of his paperwork before the trip, and the other quarter during it. So needless to say, Dottore had worked quite hard to acquire this time off, but you didn’t need to know that because then you would feel absolutely terrible and he’d have to deal with your countless apologies.)
“[Name],” he greeted you.
“Zandik!” You immediately hugged him to which he reciprocated and patted your head. “I missed you! Oh, I have so much to tell you. You wouldn’t believe what happened. I met the-”
“Traveler,” Dottore interrupted.
“You know already?”
“Of course. I was notified the moment it happened.”
“Oh.” Well, now that you think about it, that made sense. Of course, Dottore would be aware of everything that happened to you… you were alone, but in a way you weren’t. He still had that overprotective and possessive streak, and rightfully so. He chuckled at your reaction.
“But, I believe your point of view will be far more eye-opening. So please, do tell.” You brightened and immediately began prattling about everything, not before you two laid down on the grass and got comfortable, the same as you did four hundred years ago. Though Dottore wasn’t particularly worried about the Traveler doing anything to you, no, of course, he had planned for this possibility (unlike you) and already had measures in place just in case anything happened. 
So the conversation began to move onto softer things. Like you bringing up old memories every five seconds. For example, you two also used to come here frequently to investigate the forest for classes. Zandik usually found these ones boring and was much more interested in Ruin Machines, so you often sped through these boring expeditions in record time so he could do more “fun” things.
“Perhaps we should do that again.”
“Do what? Investigate the biodiversity of Sumeru’s forest?”
“Correct.” You laughed at his words but Dottore looked rather serious about it.
“Isn’t the sun going to set soon? And I thought you weren’t interested in that stuff anymore.” 
You were surprised he was doing this, but Dottore had already risen to his feet and stuck out his hand to you expectantly.
“No matter. We can still see, no? And I do believe it will be interesting to see how it has changed over four hundred years.” That was a lie. He didn’t actually care about the plants of the forest. He was only doing it because he knew it was something you would like. And he was right of course, for you smiled happily and took his hand, clasping it tightly.
“Alright then! I’ll lead the way, just like old times,” you puffed your chest out. “Just follow me, Zandik. And you’re taking notes this time! You don’t know what you put my hand through all those years ago!” Dottore only chuckled at your huffing. You were always on note duty because he kept breaking his pens and spilling ink everywhere, much to your dismay.
But regardless, you two spent an evening examining Sumeru’s fauna, the conversation turning surprisingly rather intellectual. But it soon turned quiet as you two ended the night off by gazing at the stars, just like old times. 
The stars may be a lie, but sometimes lies are still beautiful.
Today was the last day of the Akademiya Extravaganza, and you decided to spend the day enjoying the city one last time. You were set to leave with Dottore this afternoon, so you only had about half a day to do what you needed to do. You didn’t know when you’d be back again, so you wanted to imprint it into your mind, and maybe get a few souvenirs as well. It all went well, you did what you needed to do, bought what you wanted and passed it on to your agents to keep for you, and were actually about to head back to Dottore when you met some familiar faces.
The Traveler and Paimon… again. It seemed like the Gods really did hate you, huh? 
“Hey [Name]!” That familiar high-pitched voice waved to you and called out your name… ugh. Just as you were about to go, too. But you pretended otherwise.
“Hello Paimon, Traveler. It is good to see you again. I must apologize for leaving yesterday. I had… matters to attend to,” you apologized.
“Don’t worry about that! Paimon understands.” You smiled back in response and waited to see if the pair would say anything else, but they just… stood there for a few seconds and looked at you.
“Well, if that’s all…” You turned to leave, but Paimon blurted out a strained response unusually quickly.
“Wait! Paimon means, would you like to take a walk with us? Our conversation got cut short yesterday, it would be nice to talk a bit more.” You squinted a bit at Paimon’s expression. It seemed a bit… off. Regardless, you did have some more time to kill, and perhaps they would tell you something of amusement you could relay back to Dottore. So it wasn’t too bad of a decision.
“Alright, that sounds fine,” you nodded in agreement. Paimon had to hold in her sigh of relief. And so the three of you began to walk, taking in the sights of the city. Paimon asked you some more questions, but she seemed a bit… nervous? You weren’t dumb, the more she talked the easier it was to notice. The Traveler was good at keeping a poker face, but Paimon on the other hand, was not. She was nervously looking back and forth between you and the blonde. Which could only mean one thing. 
They knew your real identity. 
Ah, so they found out. Huh. You weren’t expecting that, but you didn’t care much. They were bound to find out eventually, so long as they kept fighting the Fatui. You didn’t know if they were going to confront you right now or not, but you weren’t going to wait around for it. You knew your Fatui bodyguards were close by somewhere, but you didn’t want them to get hurt by the Traveler, so you stretched your arms out, a signal for them to back away a bit. Because you already had a defense mechanism readied that you didn’t want to affect them. Courtesy of Dottore, of course.
So before Paimon could ask another question, you abruptly stopped. You two had exited the city, so there were no regular civilians around either.
“[Name], why did you-”
“There’s no need to pretend anymore. You know who I am, don’t you?” The looks on their faces gave it all away, and the Traveler instantly put up their guard, which you chuckled at.
“Now now, there’s no need to get all worked up. Surely the ever-righteous Traveler won’t hurt a poor, defenseless soul like me, right?” You simply smiled at them, and Paimon was immediately on the verbal defense.
“Hey! You’re in no position here to be saying stuff like that! The Traveler here has taken out countless Fatui, you’re no different,” the travel guide bluffed. She remembered Nahida’s instructions to let you be, but how could she let you talk to her like that?! “And, and,” she scratched her brain for another warning, “we’ll take you to the Matra for questioning!” Paimon blurted out her best threat, which you only laughed at.
“Oh no, I’m so scared…”
“Hey! We’re not joking! You’re connected with the Doctor, they’ll lock you up!”
“Mhm, you know all of that, don’t you? And yes, I’m well aware of your martial prowess,” you looked directly at the blonde. “The same hands killed Omega, didn’t they?” At the segment’s name, the Traveler stiffened. The look in your eyes wasn’t the same as it was before. It had a carefully veiled sense of loathing that had come up to the surface.
“You know, for years I wondered to myself, how did Omega look like in his last moments? What did he think of? What did he do?” Your voice gradually became a soft whisper. “These questions used to drive me mad, but I don’t think I want to know the answer anymore.” The two were shocked at the clear love and longing you had in your voice for the deceased segment. It wasn’t fake at all.
“But why? Why would you willingly be with someone like the Doctor?” Earlier that day, the Traveler and Paimon had decided to scout Sumeru again in hopes of finding notes that you left behind, and after careful exploration once again, they did. Your notes, however, always had careful logical additions left by Zandik. And then, in response… you’d flirt with him on the note, to which the scholar never responded. The pair didn’t know what to feel or say to that.
“Ah, there it is. The same question I receive every time. But it’s okay. I can understand your confusion. Though if I were to stand here and tell you every reason why, it would make you only more confused. So let me answer your question with the simplest answer of them all. I love Dottore. Dottore loves me. That is the foundation of our relationship.” Unfortunately, that answer seemed to only make the two more confused. 
“… It seems that you still do not understand. But that’s okay. It’s not like it matters anyway,” you supposed they were unconvinced a man such as Dottore could love, but you weren’t here to convince them of that. So then you turned to leave before Paimon spoke again.
“Where do you think you’re going? You are coming with Traveler and Paimon!” You let out a sigh at this creature’s persistence. Looks like you’d have to do something.
“You know, I was really hoping I wouldn’t have to use this,” you mumbled under your breath before you retrieved a pill from your pocket and swallowed it, although it was a different color from your regular ones. The Traveler continued to watch on carefully, ready to summon their sword at any second.
“Hmph! Any last words?” Paimon put her hands on her hips as she stared at you. You thoughtfully looked up and began to think, before you came up with something. You despised the Traveler, but a question couldn’t help but linger in your chest. And hey, they’ve helped Childe and Arlecchino in the past, despite nearly being killed by them, right? And that Electro God too. You didn’t know if they were stupid or just too nice. It was worth a shot. And, you didn’t care if you were selfish or not. You were tired of being nice.
“Traveler… may I ask you a favor?”
The Traveler raised their eyebrow, partially offended and shocked you would ever ask them that considering the antagonistic stance you took. That was the last thing they expected, but you took their silence as an opportunity to continue.
“You hop to different worlds, don’t you? Different universes?” The Traveler nodded, unsure of where you were going with this. Your gaze flickered to the floor, eyebrows furrowing before you made up your mind.
“Then, when you leave Teyvat, could you… look for me?” Out of everything that could have come out of your mouth, the Traveler could not have expected that.
“I want to know… I just want to know if there exists a world, where none of this happened. Where I was never sick, where he didn’t have to do all of this to find a cure. I want to know if there’s a world where everything is okay for us.” Your eyes fluttered shut as you spoke, loads of memories flashing through your head about everything you’ve gone through. The Traveler and Paimon remained speechless because they truly did not know what to say, before you cringed at yourself for saying something so stupid.
“Ah, what am I saying? I know you have no sympathy for us, it was dumb to ask,” you waved it off. “Forget it. But I’m afraid I’ve wasted too much time here with you. I have things to attend to.” At that moment, you reached into your pocket and produced a strange device, and before the Traveler could summon their sword, an irregular, headache-inducing sound echoed throughout the area. Instantly, the Traveler knew it was the same sound device Omega had used to put them to sleep all those years ago. But it was too late, as their mind became foggy and their knees buckled to the floor.
“To think that you fell for the same thing twice… that’s kind of embarrassing for you, mighty Traveler,” your laugh was the last thing they heard before they fell into a dream. “It’s a good thing Dottore told me to carry this thing… and made a pill so the effects wouldn’t work on me. Well, bye now.”
After rendering those two unconscious, you made your way to the boat you and Dottore were going to leave in. Your agents had caught back up to you and you swore you heard them mumbling about how “cool” you were. It was cute.
You saw your husband standing leisurely on the boat. You guess he had no reason to disguise himself considering he was already about to leave. You immediately smiled and climbed onto the boat with his help.
“I guess you were immediately notified of what happened, weren’t you?” You teased. 
“Of course,” he went along with your tone. “I am always aware of what hindrances may plague my spouse.” You hummed in acknowledgment as you watched the Fatui prepare to set off.
“You know, this whole trip, I’ve been thinking something stupid.”
“No thought from you could be stupid. Do tell.”
“I’ve been thinking… that I love you so much that it may begin to physically hurt me when you’re not around.” Dottore seemed amused.
“Is that so?”
“Yes, really! All those times when you left me alone in the lab, I swear I started developing some side effects!” You pouted as Dottore found himself laughing at your pain.
“Well, not to worry. I am a doctor, after all, I know very well how to treat this ailment.” Dottore ran his fingers up and down your neck, leaving behind a tingling sensation.
“Oh, do you? Well, go ahead, doctor. Make me feel better.”
“I would be delighted to but, the treatment is a little… hands-on,” his deep voice made your heart race with excitement.
“Aren’t you the one who always gets mad at me for trying to skip my medicine? I see no reason to hesitate.” You smiled boldly.
“As you wish. But don’t say I didn’t warn you…” Dottore then pressed you against the railing of the boat, holding you down so you wouldn’t tip over, and then began to lean into your lips.
(The Fatui agents kept their heads turned the whole time.)
That had happened years before the Traveler defeated the Doctor, and consequently killed you in the process. Sometimes they wonder if things could have turned out differently. Especially since some of the other Harbingers were certainly not pleased with them when they finally fought, namely the Third, but she too eventually met her demise. But what’s done is done.
The Traveler thought that would be the last they ever saw of you and the Doctor, but they were wrong. As one would expect, Dottore was connected with many of the events in Teyvat, and so he popped up here and there again throughout the rest of the Traveler’s journey.
But one thing they did not expect was to see you and Dottore again. Where? The Ley Lines had somehow shown them people from the past, as they once did with the Shogun. 
It was… strange. Strange to see the two of you just be normal. Normal people, normal students before it all changed. You, a stark contrast to the person they saw before - energetic, bubbly, handling your weapon with ease as you protected Zandik from any possible danger. Zandik, a lot more grouchy and less suave, morally ambiguous but not quite evil yet. Two people who were alone and found company in each other’s likeness. It created a sort of… understanding for the Traveler. Not forgiveness. Understanding.
So when they finally left Teyvat, they decided to fulfill that favor you had asked them. To find you in another universe. It was also to satisfy a sort of curiosity they had themselves. Would you two truly be happy in another world? They would find out as long as they continued to journey with their sibling. So they traveled and traveled and met many new people, and went on many new adventures, your request lingering in the back of their mind every time they visited a new planet.
Admittedly, it was actually kind of… sad to see your fates in the other universes. In many universes, you died, or he died, leaving the other all alone unable to come to terms with their fate. In some universes, you were ill again. You did not survive. In others the relationship did not last, breaking it off due to numerous reasons out of your or Zandik’s control. And maybe the worst fate of them all… you two never crossed paths. Never able to give the other a chance at love.
If the Traveler had a Mora for every time fate divided you two, they might be as rich as Pantalone. They wondered if your request would ever be finished. So when the Traveler entered the next universe, they weren’t expecting much. 
This world was a bit different from the others. It had no supernatural powers, but it had great technology. Things like “internet” and “phones” and “computers.” But they had gotten accustomed to it quickly, as they always had. Right now they were at an outdoor cafe, waiting for their sibling when they heard a familiar voice.
“Ugh, I swear, as soon as the term ends, I will be running to give that guy a scalding rating!” The voice spoke with annoyance and a slam followed soon after, presumably textbooks dumped onto the table. This cafe was frequented by students, so this was no surprise for the Traveler. Cheap, yummy, and a good study spot is what they heard from passersby. 
“I told you not to take him,” another grouchy voice replied. “You brought this on yourself.”
“You know that he was my only option! I literally got the last seat in the class,” you whined back, the chairs dragging across the concrete. “Besides, I don’t want to hear that from you when you complain about your professors every single day, Zandik.” That name nearly made the Traveler choke on their drink.
Zandik? Did they hear that right…? They turned around, hoping not to arouse attention, and then their eyes widened as they looked at the pair that just arrived.
They were the spitting image of the [Name] and Dottore from Teyvat, although these people were dressed in different clothes that were normal for this planet. There were a few minor differences that the Traveler only recognized because they were familiar with Teyvat’s version of you, but there was no doubt about it.
These two people were this planet’s version of you and Dottore. But the question was, were you two happy together? The Traveler needed to find out, and this position wasn’t good for spying so they moved to another inconspicuous location.
Zandik only rolled his eyes at your defiant quip before opening his heavy textbook, which you soon followed suit. The friendly banter between the two of you flowed naturally. When the food came, you tried feeding him the piece of cake which Zandik tried shooing your hand away, but had to give in after a while with slightly red cheeks. Your hands occasionally brushed against each other, but neither of you pulled away. Interesting, very interesting. Could this be the universe…?
After you two left the cafe, the Traveler decided to follow. This was probably a bit stalkerish, but they just needed to confirm. (Good thing they had skill in this area.) 
In the busy public streets, your shoulders only brushed, but when it became more deserted, you reached out to hold hands with Zandik. He huffed and mumbled something to you, which the blonde could not hear, though you only responded with a laugh as you squeezed his hand tighter. But then your attention was diverted by something else.
“Oh, look there Zandik! Do you see that?” You whisper-yelled, drawing his attention to a tree branch. “It’s a raven and a sparrow! Together! The thing is on top of the other’s head!” You couldn’t contain your amusement. “Isn’t that really strange? Don’t ravens eat sparrows sometimes?”
“Yes, and the sparrow must be rather stupid for allowing itself to get so close to something that can kill it,” Zandik said bluntly.
“That’s not nice,” you poked him for that comment. “Just because they’re different doesn’t mean they can’t be friends. Just like us, Zandik!”
“The world is not that nice, [Name],” he sighed, your optimism causing him great headaches sometimes.
“Yeah, I know thatttt~. But you never know! Hehe, you know, this reminds me of the time a few months back when a butterfly landed on your nose. You looked so cute! Ah, I’m so glad I got a picture.” Zandik immediately scowled, because you set the bloody thing as your wallpaper, so anyone who looked at your phone’s home screen could see the embarrassing moment. Ajax and his wretched finance and theater friends did not let him hear the end of it. Your boyfriend then started walking much faster, dragging you along as you yelped at the increased speed.
“Stop babbling and hurry up, otherwise I’ll leave you behind.”
“Okay, okay! Just slow down!!”
Soon, the two of you reached your newly rented apartment. Both of you had only recently moved out of the dorms, but it had been a lot of fun decorating and growing accustomed to this new life. The Traveler watched as you disappeared into the building, and then noticed your figure again through a window near the upper level. You were cradling an animal, a cat actually, and kissed it gently. Zandik then made his way over, uncharacteristically scratching its chin as well, before saying something to you. (Perhaps scolding you for giving your pet too much attention. A very Zandik way of saying he himself wanted more attention too.) You only shook your head with mirth before pressing a kiss to your lover’s lips, and the two of you moved away from the window, now out of sight.
Well, the Traveler’s job was done now. You and Zandik were happy. Maybe not in Teyvat, maybe not in any other world but… you two were happy in this one. And that was all you wished for.
[Name] and Zandik were happy.
And that’s the perfect ending for a fairy tale, right?
475 notes · View notes
sundrop-writes · 9 months
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Emergency Contact
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Jason Todd x Gender Neutral Reader
You choke on your words, but you swallow them faster.
Just want you to be my Emergency Contact.
Summary:
After Jason miraculously comes home from his brush with Deathstroke, you’re both feeling it in very different ways. You have an unexpected physical wound from the battle, and he has many (very expected) emotional wounds. You help each other heal. Even if it’s very stubborn on both your parts.
Jason Todd x GN!Powered!Reader. Enemies/FWB to Lovers. Angst and Hurt/Comfort. (Slight Smut). Set during Season 2, Episode 5.
Word Count: 10,400
DC Titans Masterlist | AO3 Link
THIS IS A RE-POST. This is a fic from my old blog (a blog that was shadowbanned, forcing me to move). This fic is not stolen, it is completely mine, and I am just re-posting it to help people find my new blog, and to make my masterlist complete when I post new fics for this fandom.
Detailed warnings and author’s notes below the cut.
...
Warnings: general emotional angst, Jason has a self deprecating inner dialogue, (kind of) enemies to lovers - more like annoyances to fuck buddies to lovers, friends with benefits to lovers, the reader and Jason have a bantering/argumentative nature to their relationship, the reader is meant to be 100% gender neutral (the reader is never referred to in the third person, so there is no need to use they/them pronouns, but the reader is not called she/her or he/him), Jason calls the reader ‘babe’ (imo, a completely gender neutral term and he would call anybody that), mentions of alcohol (Jason drinking a beer), the reader character has ice powers (not entirely relevant to the plot but I couldn’t help myself lmao).
sexual themes throughout, mentions of sexting (no detailed descriptions), mentions of sexting in public, mentions of the reader character sending nudes to Jason (no detailed descriptions of the photos), one scene with detailed smut (but it is not the primary focus of the fic), the reader’s genitals are not described in any specific way, some dirty talk, Jason is more dominant and the reader is more submissive, penetrative sex, Jason is annoying even during sex, Jason has a pain kink (even when he’s a dom, he’s a painslut, I don’t make the rules), scratching/marking (Jason receiving), slight humiliation kink.
mentions of canon level violence, mentions of kidnapping (in alignment with canon), mentions of Jason being beaten by Deathstroke, mentions of Jason’s near-death experience (being dropped off the building), gun violence, the reader is injured - has a bullet wound/bullet fragment in their stomach, mentions of blood, descriptions of first-aid, mentions of puss from an infected wound (theoretically, not something that happens in the fic). That should be everything.
A/N: The title for the fic comes from a song by Pierce the Veil of the same name. It’s a newer song, and it’s one that I absolutely went to when looking for a title for this fic. The concept of becoming someone’s emergency contact is about upgrading the relationship from casual to much more serious, and just the whole song, and specific lyrics in it suit this fic so well. I highly recommend listening to it paired with this fic.
This was based on a request from my old blog, but obvi I don’t have that ask anymore - the request was about Jason getting shot and having his wound attended to by the reader, but I changed it to the reader getting shot cause I thought that was more interesting and less common. If the person who made that request sees this and finds my new blog, I hope you enjoy it! And in general, I hope everyone who reads this enjoys it.
This is another re-post from my old blog, and I do have a sequel for it in my drafts, which I am not actively working on. And before I post the sequel, I do plan on tweaking this and revamping it a little, but I figured I would repost this for now just to have the masterlist complete on this blog.
...
If asked, you would be hard pressed to explain your relationship with Jason Todd. 
The best way you could describe it would probably be - friends with benefits? 
But most of the time, the two of you weren’t even friends. You weren’t the type to hang out casually, or spend time alone together if it didn’t involve ripping each other’s clothes off. 
If you ever exchanged secrets or those precious bits of your most raw selves, it was by mistake. It was through sarcasm, or coming off the tired lips of someone who had just been exhausted by a few orgasms. The two of you knew each other well, quite literally inside and out. But you always made a deep, concerted effort to hold each other at arm’s length. And maybe that’s part of what all the snark and harsh words were for. 
It wasn’t all arguing. You were friendly. You could be civil, at the very least. 
Right from the moment you had first met Jason, you had found him to be so damn annoying, a shitstain on the earth - yet, someone you couldn’t stay away from. The line between flirtatious banter and a truly grinding argument was always so thin with the two of you. 
… 
You hadn’t expected that your life would be truly changed when you walked into that safehouse in Chicago that day. You truly thought nothing of him when his eyes landed on you - in those moments, a completely anonymous stranger, raking his eyes over you like you were a piece of meat. It was a gaze that immediately made you feel naked, something that made you want to smack him. You told yourself it was because he was being a pervert, not because of the heat that curled in your gut at feeling so intensely desired by him. 
He had been sitting on the couch sipping a beer like he owned the place, his thighs spread wide in a way you immediately decided was arrogant and annoying rather than hot - showing off his muscle tone as if it was trying to break through his jeans. Definitely annoying. Definitely the stance of a fuckboy trying to look bigger and badder than he was. He definitely was not attractive. 
When Dick led you, Rachel, Gar, and Kory further into the condo that seemed far too conspicuous to be a safehouse, the stranger you would later come to know as Jason quickly spoke up. 
“Who are your friends?” He asked. 
As he rose from the couch, his eyes lingered on you. Though his words seemed more out of curiosity, you couldn’t help but feel that bite of something more salacious lingering in his voice. 
It caused you to scoff and roll your eyes. 
“Not important.” Dick declared, his voice snippy. He was clearly annoyed with this new guy, and you could tell that your perceptions of him were definitely not ill-informed. 
“Who’s he?” Kory asked, going for the obvious question. 
“Not important.” Dick parroted out the words again, sounding much shorter with his patience. 
“Anybody want a brew?” Jason asked, motioning with the beer bottle in his hand. 
“Brew?” You twisted your eyebrows with disgust, staring him down as you commented on his odd choice of slang. 
He didn’t get to reply, as you were trampled over by Gar’s enthusiastic voice in your ear. 
“I do!” He said, raising his hand with excitement. 
“No, you don’t.” You quickly told him, reaching out to grab his hand and put it back down. “It’s disgusting.” 
You had a grand suspicion that Gar had never drank beer before, and he had no idea what he was truly asking for. Rather, he was simply taking advantage of trying new things because Dick and Kory were incredibly slack parental figures and he was away from home for the first time. 
“No, no one wants a brew.” Dick sighed, shaking his head. He threw Jason a small glare and you resisted the urge to laugh. 
“That can’t be Adamson.” Kory said, motioning toward Jason. 
This left you confused. But you didn’t question it. 
“He’s not Adamson. Adamson’s in the bathroom. Unconscious.” Dick explained. 
“Hi, I’m Rachel.” Rachel told Jason, offering him a sweet smile - being her usual sweet self. 
“Jason.” He introduced himself, in that moment, finally giving you a name to that obnoxious face. 
“I’m Gar!” Gar said with a grin, to which Jason nodded. 
Jason caught you glaring at him, and looked you up and down again, as if trying to willfully tear off your clothes with his eyes. It made your skin itch with heat and you would forever deny that it was a feeling you liked. 
“What can I call you, babe?” He asked, his voice entirely slimy, the kind of tone he would have used to recite cheesy lines to Tinder dates, you were entirely sure of. 
Before you could come up with some clever reply, Dick sighed in frustration and started balking again. 
“Okay, who we all are doesn’t matter right now.” He pressed, his neck so entirely tense that veins began to pop from the skin. “Can we just chill out, relax, sit on the couch and watch TV or something?” 
It seemed that he wouldn’t get his wish. 
Gar quickly charged around the table, finding something else to get strung up about. 
“Yo, when did you get another one?” He asked, putting his hands on both of the expensive cases on the long dining table - a copy identical to the one you knew to be containing Dick’s Robin outfit. 
It made you curious, and the answer that followed certainly surprised you. 
“That one’s mine.” Jason said, his chest literally puffing out with pride as he stated the fact. 
“No way.” You scoffed. 
“Yes way.” He quickly argued back, the whole exchange sounding entirely juvenile.
“This one’s yours? Wait, you’re Robin too?” Gar quickly put the pieces together. 
“I thought you were Robin?” Rachel commented, tilting her head toward Dick with curiosity. 
“I am.” Dick said firmly. 
“He was.” Jason corrected, a cocky smirk forming across his lips. 
“Batman really lowered the height requirement, huh.” You said. 
The words flew from your mouth before you could stop them, seeing as it was likely the only thing you could nitpick about Jason’s appearance. Between his stunning sharp jaw, his piercing blue eyes, his oddly appealing wild hair, his muscle tone being somehow visible beneath his baggy clothing - all of it made you equally frustrated and annoyed with him, and your baser urges couldn’t resist the low-hanging fruit. 
You felt victory and a slight pang of guilt when Jason deflated because of your comment, shrinking back into himself at your words. 
He didn’t have anything to say in return, he simply sipped his beer. 
“Wait, how many Robins are there?” Gar said, beginning to excitedly ramble at the thought. “Are there a lot? Cause I would love to-” 
“Okay, quiet.” Kory cut him off, clearly becoming annoyed with all of this dancing around the point as much as Dick was. “Sit.” 
Her words were firm, and you couldn’t help but to listen. You found yourself collapsing to sit on the couch while Rachel and Gar took seats at the dining table. Jason continued to linger in the middle of the room, staring at Kory and Dick as their frustration filled the air. 
“Bathroom.” Kory told Dick, and then they left to deal with whoever - or whatever - Adamson was. 
Jason sighed and took a seat beside you. When his eyes fell on you, you set your jaw and glared at him. You didn’t give away a single ounce of the heat you were feeling as his eyes locked with yours. 
“Even if I am the shorter Robin, I can assure you that everything else about me is… very long.” He lowered his voice and whispered those last words, crowding into your personal space as he did so. 
It sent shivers down your spine, his silken voice making the words sound too tempting. Even if you twisted your face and said ‘gross!’ causing him to dissolve into laughter, you didn’t make an effort to move away from him or put any space between your two bodies on the very large couch. You told yourself it was because you were tired from a very long day of travel, not because you were enjoying the smell of his strangely expensive cologne from this close by. 
His grin was still entirely smug, and you couldn’t stand it. 
When he raised the beer bottle up to his mouth again, you reached over and put a hand on his forearm, forcefully dragging his arm down as you made a snide comment. 
“That shit is disgusting, why the hell do you drink it?” You asked. 
You found your face drifting toward his again and if asked, you would say it was a form of intimidation - not that you were being drawn in by an unconscious attraction to him. 
“Because I can.” He replied, just as snide as he slipped your grip and sipped on the drink. 
You mocked his words in an entirely childish voice, and then you raised a single finger up to it and skimmed along the neck of the bottle. It took only a single moment of concentration with your skilled powers to freeze the beer inside solid. He thought he felt an extra chill coming off his hand, but convinced himself that he imagined it. But when he kept it tilted and nothing came out to meet his lips, he shook it and then stuck an inquiring eye inside the bottle. 
When he saw that it was completely frozen, he looked over and saw you grinning, and little did you know - that was the moment he became completely taken with you. You were one of the most annoying people he had ever met, and he found himself so intensely attracted to you. 
Even if it was getting under your skin by arguing with you or fucking your brains out, he knew in that moment - he had to get inside you and drive you insane the same way that he knew you would for him. 
… 
When Dick left to go check on his old circus friend Clay, Jason winked at you and said ‘don’t miss me too much’. You made a show of putting a finger near your mouth and audibly gagging. 
Later that night, when Jason didn’t return, you hated the curl of disappointment that panged in your stomach. You wanted to hit yourself for staring at the door, waiting for the second Robin to come in behind Dick. 
You hated yourself even more for replying to Jason’s texts. 
Apparently he had taken your phone out of your jacket pocket when you went to the bathroom (not to see Adamson - a different bathroom, to pee). And he had put himself in your contacts as ‘Hot Guy’. He had also sent himself a text from your phone that read ‘omg Jason you’re so hot, will you fuck me?’. And then replied to it from his own phone with a picture of his cock. 
Unfortunately, the only thing you could mock about the picture was poor lighting. 
When you told him as much, he quickly remedied that with several more pictures - ones with better lighting. He sent a video with very distinct audio. You would deny that you rushed to put your headphones in to listen to it while you sat on the train with Kory and Gar. You would deny that it drove a hard, hot pain between your thighs. 
You dug through a folder and sent some pictures of your own. You told yourself it was to prove to him that you were too good for him - to show off something he could never actually have. To tease him. 
You would deny that you loved the compliments he gave you, that you ate up the affection like a plant lovingly soaking up the sun. 
When you were sexting him, you had no clue that you were ever going to see him again. It was almost mindless, something for a dopamine hit to distract yourself from all the chaos going on around you. You weren’t doing it because you actually liked Jason. You didn’t have any real attractions toward him, or any real plans to carry out all of the bold things you said in those messages. 
You had no clue that you’d end up living together. 
When you did find out that Dick would be taking Jason into the newly reopened Titans Tower along with you, Gar, and Rachel, you didn’t make a big deal of it in your mind. When Jason made flirtatious remarks toward you in person, you brushed him off. You put up a wall. 
You told yourself that he was nothing more than a cocky, shallow guy who would use you for sex and then throw you away - something you could never actually build a proper relationship with. And if you were supposed to live together, be some kind of team like Dick expected you to be, then you couldn’t be messy. You couldn’t get emotional. 
You had no clue that on one of those first nights living together, your self assured discipline not to give into your lust for him would break like a wafer cookie, and you would be in his bed faster than a sea turtle running into ocean. 
… 
“Fuck, babe, you feel so good on my cock.” Jason grunted, his face buried in your neck as he thrusted deep inside of you. The loud squelch of artificial wetness coming from between your thighs as he worked his hips, working you open with a needy, demanding pace. “Bet you love this cock, huh? Tell me how fuckin’ much you love it.” 
“Shut up.” 
The words came from your throat as a weak whimper, much less powerful than you had intended. 
You didn’t want to give him any more power than he already held over you - he had you weak and willing on his cock, something you would have never admitted could be true until it was happening in these moments. 
Though you would never admit it aloud, you loved the way he handled you. Having you pinned against the bed with his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips, having you breathless and moaning as he fucked into you with fast, obviously skilled strokes. Your nails cut into the flesh of his back, and he let out a low rumble from his gut as the sharp sting sent a wave of pleasure through him. 
You hated the twinge of lustful embarrassment that curled in your gut when he chuckled at your words. 
“Oh, you want me to shut up?” He asked, slightly breathless from the act himself, moving one hand beside your head to raise himself up slightly to look in your eyes. 
He was sweaty, disheveled, his hair a mess, his muscles taught with the effort as he continued to pound into you. You hated that you had imagined him much like this before, and that this outlived all of your fantasies. 
“Yes.” You fired back. “Just shut up and fuck me.” 
He bit his lip - something you didn’t know was him trying to hold back his orgasm, so utterly turned on by your bratty defiance, the twinge of a whimper in your voice as you said those words. 
“You weren’t tellin’ me to shut up when I was texting you.” 
He said, all hot breath fanning across your chin, his hips spearing forward in sharp, hard hits that made your skin smack loudly together. It made you work hard to suppress moans deep in your chest in a way that was painful, like venom inside your lungs. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of your sounds, of knowing just how good he was fucking you - even if he could see it written all over your pleasure twisted face. 
“You only begged for more when I was tellin’ you how I was gonna lay you on my bed. Take you apart… make you scream my name.” 
He reached his other hand from your hip to the point where you were joined. He began touching that tender place, making sharp, vicious strokes that were almost vengeful. Tears easily gathered in your eyes and he let out another chuckle when you choked on a deep, pleasurable wail. 
“Tell me, how many times did you touch yourself reading what I wrote?” 
He asked, leaning down to whisper the words right in your ear. 
“How many times did you cum thinking about me?” 
“I didn’t.” You choked out, digging your nails deeper into the skin of his back, causing him to grunt as the pain mixed with the pleasure flowing through him. 
“Sure, babe.” He smirked down at you, turning that look into something absolutely pavlovian that would forever make you feel his cock deep inside of you when you saw it, rather than feeling annoyed. 
Maybe from that point on, it was a bit of both. 
In an effort to shut him up, you reached up and claimed his lips. It was supposed to be a kiss, but it was mostly teeth. When you bit down on his bottom lip, snarling, he tasted blood and the way he moaned at the pain was absolutely unmistakable. It was something you remembered and used against him many times after that. 
… 
You wouldn’t allow yourself any room for self hatred when it came to that break in your self control. When it became an ongoing thing, you spun it as positive in your mind. 
It was just sexual release. You and Jason both needed it. It paired well with intense training and the heavy studying that Dick made you do. It lowered your stress levels a lot, and it helped you get through the day. 
The more time you spent around Jason, the more you got to know him, and the more you came to realize that he was nowhere near shallow. You easily saw that he was caring, deep, complex, troubled. The more time passed, you found yourself falling for him and the more you deeply denied it. Because it was just sex. 
Things were good between the two of you, and you knew that if you added anything else to the mix - any complicated, mushy feelings - you would fuck it up. 
You were especially reminded of this - how important it was not to fuck things up - just a day or so before every other force aside from you railed Titans Tower and began royally fucking things up. 
… 
It was a morning just like any other at Titans Tower. It was delightfully quiet - even though Dick demanded that everyone get up at ungodly early hours to begin training, you had somehow managed to wake up before everyone else and you were enjoying the peace it brought you. 
When you got up to see that Jason was already in the kitchen, standing at the counter as he munched on a bowl of cereal, you wanted to scorn the idea that your peace would be interrupted. But instead, you found yourself willfully suppressing a smile. 
You yawned and walked over to the counter, grabbing a bowl from one of the cupboards, thinking that cereal was just the right idea on his part. A deep frown cut through your face when you poured out the rest of the cereal box he had left on the counter, and a very measly amount fell into your bowl. 
“What kind of asshole only leaves three fucking cornflakes in the bottom of the box?” You scoffed, causing him to chuckle. 
“Learn to count, babe.” He told you, speaking with his mouth half-full. “That’s more than three.” 
You rolled your eyes. You were likely exaggerating - but still, it seemed rude to you to leave such a small portion, barely a handful, in the bottom of the box. 
“Or did I make you cum so hard last night that I knocked the common sense out of your head?” He added on, throwing you that signature smirk that made heat bloom between your thighs. 
You let out a sarcastic snort, giving him a purposefully disgusted grimace as you lifted the bowl up and dumped the remaining cereal into his portion instead. 
“You might as well take these.” You told him. “And don’t flatter yourself, you’re not that good.” 
You moved behind them, distracting yourself from the conversation by making a cup of coffee. 
“Oh really?” He perked up, rising to his full height, pure mischief in his voice. “It didn’t sound like it last night.” 
Much to your horror, he then began imitating your moans. 
“‘Oh, Jason! Oh, fuck me! More!’” 
It was a cartoonish, pornographic imitation, something he likely wouldn’t have done if the others were anywhere within earshot. Oddly enough, even though your relationship was casual, you still kept it guarded and private, as though it were some precious secret that needed to be kept from the others. 
“‘Jason, please, your dick is the best! Oh, make me cum!’” 
But that was the farthest thing from your mind as embarrassment curled in your stomach, the reaction he likely wanted to draw out of you. You hated that you didn’t truly know if it was accurate or not, because sometimes - yes, he did fuck your brains out and make you completely mindless on his cock. 
But you would never admit that he was right. 
“Shut up.” You sighed, causing him to dissolve into laughter, feeling as though he had won. 
But you wouldn’t simply leave it at that. 
Instead, as you pushed the button on the machine and your coffee began to drip, you turned around and gently placed your fingers on the side of his cereal bowl. You froze all the milk inside of it solid, making it into one large frozen chunk with the spoon stuck inside when he wasn’t looking - distracted, staring at your face, looking for any trace of the reaction that he had drawn out of you. 
You just glared, and he smirked once more. 
When he picked up the spoon again and went to take another bite, the entire bowl came with it. He sighed in defeat when he realized what you had done. 
“You know, it’s so damn annoying when you do that.” He sighed. 
“I know.” You grinned at him. 
He couldn’t help the butterflies that fluttered in his stomach at this. He resisted the urge to grab you by the sides of your head and steal the grin of your mouth with his own. He told you that it was out of annoyance, and not affection. He told himself those lines were most definitely not blurred when it came to you. 
… 
Confessing your feelings to Jason would not have been your choice. 
Given the choice, you would have let your feelings quietly live and die inside of you. You would have just kept Jason as a friend. You would have even dropped the amazing sex if it meant staying on good terms with him. 
But the stakes rose pretty quickly, and things were taken out of your hands. The choice was stolen from you and Jason entirely against your will. 
When you found out he was missing, supposedly kidnapped by Doctor Light on the heels of some misguided plan - something inside of you shattered. Up until that moment, if you thought it was just a stupid crush, or an infatuation inside of you that would easily fade with time - you quickly found out that you were wrong. 
You went through the stages of grief like a rocket. 
Denial. Staring at the door, waiting for him to walk inside at any moment. Just like you had back at the safehouse.
Anger. Being so pissed at Dick at the other older Titans that you could barely breathe. How had they let this happen to him? How could they make him feel so inadequate that he felt the need to go out on his own, half-cocked, clearly doing something in the name of looking for their approval? 
Bargaining. You would have traded places with him. You would have been the one, alone and scared and stranded if it meant that he got to be at home safe. You would have gone with him to carry out the stupid plan if he had only asked. Why hadn’t he asked you? 
Depression. You wept in your room, hands clasped over your face, letting out chest-shaking sobs as you thought of the possibility of him never returning home again. You realized the possibility of him dying was very real and it made your lungs burn. 
And then finally - Acceptance. You finally accepted that your feelings for him were something bigger, and if it meant that you were the only person in the Tower who truly cared about him (probably aside from Gar) - the only person who didn’t just see him as a pawn to be used against Deathstroke - then you had to do something about it. 
So you laid out your love for Jason. You put it all on the line for him. You accidentally confessed to him, showed your feelings in a gesture so quiet it screamed. 
You knew that for someone who stepped up to become Robin, someone who scorned cops for pummeling down on the innocent when they were supposed to be protectors - stepping up to try and save his life meant a love bigger than anything else you could have done. 
And he was terrified of it. There was a big justice in your love for him. And to him, there was an even bigger justice in giving you an out to escape it - to escape loving him.  
… 
Hectic. 
That was easily how you would describe the last few days at Titans Tower. 
Between the unexpected arrival of Rose - Dick taking on another stray because, like Rachel said, he couldn’t resist a bird with a broken wing. Finding out that she was related to one of the deadliest men on earth that the Titans apparently had previous history with. And then Jason going off on his own without telling you, some botched hostage trade, and the group picking up yet another stray - a strange boy who had saved Jason’s life. It was all a blur of hectic chaos that had you snapping your neck to keep up. 
Sleep was scarce and you couldn’t remember the last time you’d had a proper meal. 
But you weren’t truly worried about any of that. 
Dust had been kicked up around your life, and you couldn’t wait for it to settle before you made your next important decision. 
Even though the wounds were still tender, you knew that things were safe for now, and your number one concern was Jason. 
The minute he had gotten in the door, even though he was slightly hobbled and clearly sore from whatever Deathstroke had done to him, he rushed out of your sight. He was clearly eager to get away from everyone like a wounded animal sulking away to lick his wounds in peace. And when you had chased him, ignoring a nagging pain in your own side from the fight, he had slammed his bedroom door in your face, entirely uncaring of the fact that you called out his name, concerned for him. 
The rest of the group was distracted with Conner - not knowing what he had been shot with or how to fix it. You hated it, but in the eyes of the group, yet again, Jason and any of his problems fell to the back burner. 
After you had taken a short shower and changed your clothes, you found yourself here. Standing in front of Jason’s closed bedroom door, hoping not to face another cold rejection. 
You wondered if he would be sleeping, wondered if you should interrupt his peace. But you knew that sleep was unlikely after everything that had happened. 
So you took the leap. 
You raised a fist, once again pushing down that stinging pain coming from the right side of your stomach. You reasoned that it was probably nothing more than a bruise forming there. And you knocked on the door. 
A few moments later, the door was jerked open, and Jason glared at you. 
His eyes were dull and tired, and there was a large bruise forming on the side of his mouth. Probably one of many others that you couldn’t see, from the way he had been walking earlier. He likely hadn’t been sleeping, but you had disturbed him. 
“What the hell do you want?” He grumbled out, his voice dull, lacking any true fight. 
“I wanted to check on you.” You told him, entirely honest. “I know it might seem stupid, but I wanna see how you’re doing.” 
Jason scoffed and rolled his eyes. 
He wanted to agree that - yes, it was stupid. It should have been obvious how he was doing after being kidnapped, beaten, and dropped off a building. But he was an idiot who had gotten himself thrown headfirst into that mess, thinking he could handle it. And he didn’t need to go crying to you about how badly he had fucked up. He had made a poor choice and he deserved all of the consequences. It was a simple fact of life. 
“I’m doing just fine, thanks.” Jason said, entirely snide and sarcastic. “Look, I don’t need your help, okay? So fuck off.” 
It was a set of harsh, cutting words. But he thought getting distance from you would be best. This whole thing had woken him up from the sweet little fantasy the two of you had been participating in. He was a natural born fuck-up. And sure, he could have you for a while, play around a bit - but he could never truly make you happy. Eventually, he would fuck you up too. He was a harsh poison and it would be better if he got out of your life before you felt the full effects. 
He moved to shove the door closed and upon instinct, you reached up and fought him on it. Unconsciously, you winced as a sharp pain came from the injury in your stomach, reaching for it with your free hand as you held the door open with the other. It should have been no big deal. With your meta abilities, you usually healed quicker. You weren’t even used to feeling it when you got hurt. You were probably just feeling it worse because you were tired. 
You tried to ignore the pain. But in a moment, Jason’s eyes went wide with worry as his gaze darted from your face, knit with pain, to where your hand was nursing the injury. Any sense of smarmy discontent dropped from his features, immediately being replaced with a softness and worry for you. 
“You’re hurt.” He said quietly. 
He let the door fall open again, reaching for your hand to inspect the injury himself. 
“I’m fine.” You played the card this time, exchanging his lie for your own. 
It was an odd play. He had lied about not being so torn up inside, emotionally devastated as he was, and now you were lying about not being physically injured from the fight. The two of you made an odd, but perfectly matched pair. 
Jason barreled right past your words, and you were easily pliant to his touch as he removed your hand from the injury. You certainly were not expecting for him to find anything incriminating under your hand. But he glared at you when he found bright red spread across your palm, a glossy wetness leaking through your shirt. 
“You’re bleeding.” He grunted at you. 
Clearly, he was disappointed in the fact that you had neglected to bring this injury to the group’s attention. Pissed off at the fact that you weren’t in the medbay with Conner receiving some treatment right now. 
Maybe you could blame it on the chaos. Maybe you could blame it on the fact that with everyone so emotionally distraught, you didn’t want to be just another problem for everyone to fuss over. 
“Whoops.” You breathed out sarcastically. “I didn’t even notice.” 
That last part was honest. In all the adrenaline, all your worrying over whether or not Jason was going to live as you watched him dangle so high off the ground - you truly hadn’t paid any mind to the injury. 
“You didn’t-?” Jason huffed out in anger, but didn’t bother finishing the sentence. 
Perhaps he partially understood himself, knowing how the adrenaline from a fight could stamp out pain. Or perhaps he knew how truly stubborn you were and he didn’t want to waste his energy arguing with you. 
“You need this treated.” He added on. 
No matter how fucked in the head he was, he never wanted to see you hurt. That was something he would definitely waste his energy on - wearing down your stubbornness until you let him or someone else in the house take care of the injury properly. 
“Conner is worse off than I am.” You shrugged. “He needs the attention more.” 
“Then let me help you.” He said, an impatient nagging rising up in his throat. “Bruce gave me some first aid training. One thing that means I’m not totally useless.” 
The words made your chest ache for him, a pain that easily competed with the bleeding wound. 
“Jason-” 
You wanted to argue with him. You wanted to tell him he had infinite worth to you. 
But of course, he cut you off. 
“Just go sit on the bed.” He told you, quiet, but a firm command that you couldn’t ignore. 
He gently pushed past you, on a quest for some supplies to patch you up with. You then found yourself drifting into his room almost mindlessly, your hand clutching the wound again upon instinct. It was a place that you felt oddly at home. The nights you had spent in that bed since coming to Titans Tower, your head delightfully empty as he had fucked you hard and fast - they were by far your favourites. 
You would say it was because of the sex, and not just because you got to be wrapped up in Jason’s arms. Maybe everything had changed. Maybe your answers were different now. Maybe you were raw and tender and Jason wasn’t prepared to chase you in that devotion. 
But that was just the thing. With you and Jason, there was never any sense of devotion. You and Jason were always hard and fast. Teasing each other, verging on the edge of vengeful. It was a flame that burned intensely hot - but it was never anything soft. It was never anything that prompted you to knock on his door so late, wanting to check on his well being. It was nothing that prompted you to make chase to put your life on the line for him. 
Even just knowing that he had the intent to attend to your injury, called himself useful because of it - the thought cradled you like a warm blanket. It had you balancing on the edge of a dam holding back a barrage of feelings that you had been quelling down since the moment you had first put your lips on his.
“I told you to sit.” Jason’s voice came from behind you. 
He had raided the infirmary and now had a handful of supplies - luckily without anyone seeing him or questioning why. When you turned to him, he was closing the bedroom door behind him, sealing you both in with this newfound soft intensity, the tired lull of two people unwilling to hold back that softness anymore. It was entirely dangerous, and entirely life-saving at the same time; and neither of you realized it. 
“Since when do you get to boss me around?” You told him, your voice low and lacking any true spirit or sarcasm. 
It was in the same vein as the banter the two of you usually threw around - bickering about who was a bigger asshole, who was more stubborn, who was better in bed. 
You expected some kind of sexual comment in return. You could almost hear it now - he was the boss of you because he made you melt on his cock, made you mindless and dumb with it. 
But, no dice. 
The longer you stared at him, catching bits of the fresh pain swimming through those gorgeous blue eyes, you wished so badly for the mischief and sarcasm and light to come back and bite you the way that it used to. 
It only made your stomach churn harder at the whole situation. Things had officially changed between you and Jason. You had yet to find out if it was for the better, or for the painstakingly worse. 
Jason sighed through his nose. 
“You can be such an asshole sometimes.” He told you. Coming from him, and given the nature of your relationship, you knew it was almost a compliment. “Will you just sit down and let me help you?” 
Even though you were utterly terrified of the swelling of emotions you felt, bound to come to a head - you did. 
You sat on the edge of the bed and he placed the supplies beside you. 
When he mumbled out a quiet ‘lay back’, and you did, his cool fingertips at the hem of your shirt pulling it upward felt strangely more intimate than any other time you had been in this same position. It wasn’t heady, you weren’t granted the distraction of his mouth on yours and his tongue shoved between your lips while a harsh throbbing nagged between your legs.
This was quiet, and calm, and gentle. 
When you caught his eye above you as he wiped away the blood with some clean gauze, you saw nothing but pity and worry and sparkling affection for you. You almost dared to call it something as epic and dangerous as love, buried deep in his eyes. He worked with the most delicate touch, almost as if he was afraid to break you, before he glanced down and inspected the wound. 
His brow furrowed with even more intense worry, guilt nipping at his insides when he got a good look at it. 
“I think I see a bullet in here.” He told you, and then he moved around the bed and grabbed his phone, turning on the flashlight to have a better light to inspect it. You felt intensely naked, intensely caught when he began shining the light on your stomach with a harshly inquisitive look across his face. “Definitely something shiny. You got shot and you didn’t fucking tell anyone?” 
It was only then that you realized when you had gotten the wound - the exact moment clicking into place in your mind. 
“It was only a ricochet.” You argued quietly. “It’s not that bad.” 
Jason scoffed and rolled his eyes, and began sorting out his supplies, preparing to pull out whatever was lodged inside of you. 
… 
Dick explicitly told you to stay put. 
They only wanted the more experienced Titans, the Varsity squad on the case when dealing with Deathstroke. He blamed young naive incompetence as the reason Jason had gotten captured in the first place. You blamed him and Bruce pushing Jason out, making him feel like he needed so desperately to prove himself. But it was something Dick wasn’t ready to hear - an argument you weren’t going to have with the very stubborn team leader. 
Instead, you went for the silent route. You trailed the rest of them out of Tower, and when Dick strayed away from the rest of the group, his head on a swivel as he glanced back and forth, seemingly wanting to assure that none of the others were following him - you followed your gut instincts and went after him. 
You hid in the shadows and the moment that Deathstroke hit the button and those panels scrolled up, revealing Jason stranded on that scaffolding - you couldn’t help yourself. 
“Jason!” 
You screamed out his name, you leapt forward. 
Dick didn’t have time to scold you, not before the gunfire started. 
Kory came out of nowhere - seemingly, she had the same idea as you. Putting her life on the line for an emotionally repressed man that she hadn’t admitted her feelings for. But she was there because she was in love with the other Robin. (Or rather, a man who claimed over and over again that he wasn’t Robin.) 
Things quickly became a blur - flashes of flame as Kory fought, battling with the muzzle flashes from Deathstroke’s guns, limbs flying as they fought each other. You didn’t see it, but Deathstroke raised and aimed at you as you rushed toward the window, blindly going after Jason. In response, Dick charged forward, redirecting the gun as he pulled the trigger. You heard the sharp ‘ping’ sound of metal on metal - what you couldn’t see was the bullet hitting one of the metal beams in the ceiling. But you certainly felt it when it sliced into your side. 
At the time, it was nothing compared to the fear you felt for Jason. 
His eyes were wide with terror, and you could only focus on getting him to safety. You had no idea that a large part of his panic came from seeing you in the building. He had hoped that Dick would keep you away from all of this. But there you were, standing a few feet away from a man with a gun who was shooting around wildly. Jason would have delighted in being dropped off the building to his death if he had to see you get fatally shot when he could do nothing but squirm on the other side of the glass. 
You put two hands on the glass, banging on it - of course, it was no use. It was inches thick, meant to keep people from going through it at this height. Working entirely on instinct, you put your palms flat across it and began forming ice crystals over it, hoping to make it rigid and breakable if it was frozen. 
Once there was enough ice, you quickly looked around and spotted a metal pipe there for the in-progress construction of the building, so you grabbed it and rushed to smash the glass with it. You felt victorious as it shattered, and Jason flinched away from the shards, putting you one step closer to freeing him. 
Though the moment the glass was cleared, leaving the wind whipping around you, his first words of greeting to you were not celebratory. 
“What the hell are you doing here?” He barked at you, clearly angry with you. 
You felt a dull ache in your chest at this. You thought he might be relieved, happy, pleased. At the time, you couldn’t interpret his harsh reaction as worry for you possibly getting hurt. 
Nonetheless, you ignored his harshness. You would save him, whether he wanted to be saved or not. You draped your body through the window, reaching out to him. You made an effort to keep most of your weight planted on the floor of the building, in case the scaffolding wasn’t stable enough to hold two people at once. 
“What do you think?” You replied, pure sarcasm dripping through your voice as you reached behind Jason and began fiddling with the rope around his wrists. 
The position put the two of you in intensely close proximity. Jason caught a whiff of your unique scent, the shower gel you used that mingled with your body’s natural oils; and he felt so painfully at home. For the first time that night, he held back tears. He couldn’t help but to lean his forehead on your shoulder, taking comfort in having you so near after being on edge and terrified for so many hours. You resisted the urge to run a hand through his hair, to cradle him and give him further comfort. You forced yourself to focus on the task at hand - getting him to safety. 
Behind you, at the very back of the room, Dick and Deathstroke wrestled with the remote for the explosives attached to the scaffolding. 
Just as you managed to get Jason’s wrists freed, Deathstroke hit the switch, and the bombs went off. 
… 
You winced loudly as Jason dabbed at the wound with disinfectant. 
“I would say sorry… but, you’ll thank me later when this isn’t swollen and leaking puss.” He told you, throwing you a small smirk. 
It was smug. It was the usual kind of humor that he gave you. 
It was comforting to know that every trace of the Jason you knew hadn’t been stolen by Deathstroke. 
You held your breath as he pressed down with the medicine-covered gauze again, drawing much less of a reaction out of you this time. 
“Great mental image, Jay.” You replied, your voice dull. It lacked any of the true bite you wanted to deliver in response to him. “I’m sure it’s such a turn-on thinking about my puss.” 
It was meant to be a joke. But even unconsciously, it was an acknowledgement of that dangerous line - the line between truly caring and just using someone for sex. The line between having someone in your life as a body to get off with, and being so… homely with them. 
You and Jason were towing that line dangerously. It was a thread that you were balancing on, and it would either break, or you would cross to the other side and be forever bonded to him. 
Jason shrugged. “Maybe I don’t have to be turned on by you all the time.” 
There was more stuck in his throat. Another dangerous acknowledgement of that line. 
‘Maybe I just have to care.’ 
Both of you lulled into silence because neither of you dared to say it. 
After a few moments, Jason put down the gauze and hesitated to reach for the tweezers. He knew that pulling the bullet out would be painful, but inevitable. It was a lot like the state of your relationship with him. Break it off, and find happiness elsewhere, or acknowledge this big thing swelling to fruition between the two of you. Have Jason fuck it up eventually. Painful, but inevitable. 
“You shouldn’t have to be hurt like this.” Jason said quietly. “You shouldn’t have gotten hurt for my sake.” 
There it was again - words with a dangerous double meaning. 
You looked up at him, pure pain knit across his face, and for a moment he looked from the tweezers to you and he could hardly stand holding your gaze. 
‘It’s worth it.’ You wanted to say. ‘For you, I’d bear any pain.’ 
The words lived and died behind your eyes, and your tongue decided on something else entirely. 
“It’s nothing.” You told him. 
You downplayed the pain, pretending that the injury was only a minor inconvenience for you. And in the grand scheme of life, it was. With time, it would heal. Losing Jason would be something you’d never heal from. 
Jason shook his head at this statement. 
He forced himself to reach for the tweezers then. He handed you his phone, a silent agreement that you would hold the light as steady as you could. He knew you well, too well, and he knew that you needed something else to focus on to push away the pain. He put his free hand on the plush of your stomach, pulling back slightly to hold the wound open while you held the light on it. 
When the sharp metal of the tweezers breached your wound, you wanted to swear. You wanted to call him an asshole as the pain shot through you. You wanted to scold him for leaving the Tower and being kidnapped in the first place. But you knew that even if it was playful or sarcastic, fueled by the bite of your pain, it was not what he needed to hear right now. So instead, you held your breath, and gripped his phone hard, keeping the light steady as you bared the sharp shocks of pain. 
After a moment of digging around that felt like an eternity, he pulled out the fragment and held it up to show you as you collapsed back against the bed, panting with tears stinging the edges of your eyes. 
“It’s not nothing.” He declared sharply. 
You couldn’t conjure a response. You knew he was right. And you didn’t want to be forced to admit it. 
Instead, you turned off the light from his phone and relaxed into the bed, closing your eyes as he walked around to the trashcan and threw out the bullet fragment. It fell into the bottom of the plastic wastebasket with a very small ‘ping’ - making you wonder how something so small could cause so much trouble. 
Jason quickly returned to you, dabbing more disinfectant into the wound in a way that made you groan and flex away from the touch. Once again, he did not apologize. 
There were a few moments of muddy silence with nothing but your slightly labored breathing, trying to contain your sounds of pain so as to not make him feel any further guilt about the whole incident. 
Your mind churned, and you couldn’t help the next words that came from your mouth. 
“I meant what I said.” You told him. 
At the sound of this, his hands immediately stilled. You felt his eyes on you, and you forced yourself to open your own and look up at him once again. He stared you down with intense examination. He looked for any ounce of falsity, any sign that you were lying, even posturing to make him feel better after everything that had happened. 
He didn’t find any. 
You thought he might acknowledge you, that he might say something back to return your mighty words. Instead, he simply reached for more gauze, and began putting a final bandage on your wound. 
… 
The explosion caused a sharp rattle through your ears. It shocked you and made you dizzy and put the whole world off-kilter. The only thing you could perceive past the mind-numbing hum in your brain was the feeling of Jason’s rough glove gripping tightly onto your wrist, so you gripped back as hard as you could. 
When you blinked open your eyes, you were half-hanging out of the open window, the edge of the floor cutting into your waist as you held onto Jason by nothing but his wrist. His whole body weight created a harsh burn, straining on the muscles in your shoulder as you watched him dangle hundreds of feet above the street. 
Panic flooded you. 
You scrambled to reach out with your other hand, and the moment you moved, your shirt slipped against the sleek, polished material of the floor and you began sliding out the window. You gasped and Jason stilled his panicked flailing immediately. 
“Don’t move!” He shouted. 
“Give me your other hand so I can pull you up!” You shouted back. 
Beyond the unpleasant hum of your eardrums rattling, you still heard chaos behind you. Gunshots, the grunts of fighting, Kory and Dick’s voices yelling. They were busy with Deathstroke, they couldn’t help you or Jason. 
Jason looked up at you with glassy eyes. 
He knew that with all his gear weighing him down, even with the training you had been doing, you wouldn’t be able to pull him up. Not by yourself. And if you weren’t careful, his body weight would just pull you out of the window and cause you to go tumbling down to your death along with him. 
When you saw that frown etch across his lips, that filthy look of dawning - you glared at him. 
“Give me your other hand!” You screamed, your voice raking across your throat like hot coals. A hot boiling rage at the fact that he seemed almost determined to die. 
There was one thing he was determined about. If he was going to die, he wasn’t going to take you down with him. 
His gloved wrist started to slip from your nervous, sweaty palm, and you tried hard to hold on tight. You formed large shards of ice, hoping you could create some kind of bond there by freezing your hand to his. But it would only be temporary with gravity trying to tear the two of you apart. 
“You have to drop me, Y/N.” He said, nothing but pure mourning on his lips. “I’m dead weight.” 
You both knew it was a horrendous double meaning. 
He thought he was a dead weight to your life. 
“No!” You immediately defied this thought, that feral rage ripping at your throat once again. “I’m gonna pull you up. I’m gonna pull you up!” 
You reached your other hand down and tightly wrapped both of your hands around his wrist, yanking upward. The harsh movement caused you to slide even further out the window. You were now dangling dangerously over San Francisco with only the thickness of your thighs giving you any real stability on the intensely high up floor. It made you dizzy, and the only thing you had to focus on were the wet wells of Jason’s eyes staring up at you. 
“It’s no use!” Jason said tearfully. 
You ignored him. 
You cast your chin over your shoulder, and began shouting. 
“Help me!” You screamed, trying desperately to get the attention of Dick or Kory. “Help me! Fuck!” 
“You have to let go.”
Jason’s words immediately shifted your focus back to him. 
But of course, you refused. 
“I’m not letting go of you!” You declared sharply. “Not that easily.” 
As he stared up at your tearful eyes, he knew that you meant it as more. 
Unfortunately, it was the one thing he was terrified of. 
He thought that you saw him as some shiny perfect thing, something good and worth having in your life. He thought that you were incapable of seeing the poison, the true fuck-up that he was. If you didn’t let go of him, sooner or later, just like everyone else in his life, you were going to get burned. 
So Jason did what he had to do. 
He began prying your fingers off his wrist, trying his best to keep you stable while he forced himself from your grip. 
“No!” You shrieked. “No, no, no-” 
You didn’t have much room to fight him about it without falling out of the window yourself. 
You made a move to readjust, to get a tighter grip on him - and it was the one deadly move that caused him to slip out of your touch completely. 
You were forced to watch on in chest clenching horror, blinking through heavy tears as he began hurtling toward the ground. 
… 
If not for Conner - a literal miracle - swooping in and saving Jason at the last second, then you would have spent the rest of your life regretting those moments, wondering what you could have done differently to save him. 
When Jason finished taping down the bandages, making sure the wound was clean and secure, he laid his palm flat on top of it. It was a kind of ‘kissing it better’ that instantly spread warmth curling through your gut. It was a touch so incredibly tender - especially compared to the heated, aggressive groping you were used to from him - that it caused a whimper from the back of your throat. 
You knew it was unlikely, but you hoped that he hadn’t heard it. 
“All done.” He said quietly. 
You instantly felt regret when he took his hand away and began tidying up the medical supplies. But you forced yourself to sit upright, now feeling only muscle soreness and a much duller pain coming from the area. You felt intensely thankful for his care as you pulled your shirt back down, righting your clothes back into place. 
“You’re free to go now.” Jason told you, his voice still low, as though a single decibel would shatter the delicate peace between the two of you. 
You felt your heart sink. 
In an instant, you understood what it was - he was concerned about your physical wellbeing, but he didn’t actually want to have you around. Just like his reaction to you showing up at the hostage exchange - he didn’t want your presence there. 
You heaved a sigh and got off the bed as Jason busied himself with gathering up the used gauze to throw it away. As you put your hand on the doorknob, you couldn’t quite bring yourself to leave. 
It was something else. 
It had to be something else. 
Jason hadn’t let himself drop off a building in some desperate ploy just to get away from you. He had been trying to save you. 
He was so utterly willing to give his life for yours. 
And now he was trying to back down from that. 
You turned and faced him, leaving the door closed. When he turned from ditching things in the wastebasket, he froze. He was entirely surprised that you were still there.
The two of you locked eyes, both staying still - like a predator and prey locked in a stalemate, wondering who would run first. 
In this situation, you weren’t sure who was the prey. 
You were both so vulnerable. 
Jason thought it would be selfish to get caught up in all of this, to finally admit those dangerous feelings he had for you. When he cared for things, he usually ended up breaking them. Of course, it was never on purpose - he was an idiot. Everything he touched, he fucked up. He had made that more than evident with his last braindead plan, the outing to prove that he was worthy of being Robin. Something that had gotten you shot, probably could have gotten you killed. 
If you stuck with him any longer, you probably would end up being killed. And he would never forgive himself for that. 
He would be better off ripping himself from your hold, as much as it hurt. Giving you a dose of that heartbreak now so that you could get over him and go after better things. 
As you stared at Jason, you could see all the pain boiling underneath his surface. You wondered what he was thinking, what the hell he was churning over in that intense brain of his - but you didn’t dare to ask. 
You knew that he needed to be held right now - in every sense of the word. You knew that he needed to be cared for the way he had cared for your wound, pushing past the pain in order to heal. You wondered if he would lay down and bear it or if he would continue to fight you. 
You were the one to bravely step forward. Though Jason was tempted to ask you to leave, that thing inside of him yearning to marinate in his isolation because he deserved it, he pushed it down. He let his hands naturally come to sit on the plush comfort of your waist as you put a gentle touch on both his shoulders, leaning into his body ever so slightly. 
You laid your forehead on his cheek, right next to that ugly bruise that had been left on him, and he let out a contented sigh as he felt your warmth envelope him. For the first time since his feet had touched the ground, he felt calm. He felt safe. 
You smoothed a hand across his shoulder, and raised your head, using your touch to gently tip his face toward yours. He quickly realized that your intention was to kiss him. And something ached in his heart - something painful and longing. He knew that it would not be needy and haste with the intention of pile-driving toward sex like your other kisses had been. He knew that it would be the metamorphosis of your relationship that he was not prepared to go through. 
He nuzzled along your forehead, gently stopping you. 
“Please don’t do this.” He murmured quietly into your skin. 
He knew that it would break him. 
He knew that this was the moment - like Gatsby reaching up toward the stars - this would be the moment that he was tied to you forever, damned by his love for you. Only, much different than Gatsby, he wasn’t destined for some grant fate if he didn’t have you. He was on a one way path to a messy death, and he was determined not to take you down with him. 
Tears pricked the edges of his eyes at the thought. 
You pulled back, just enough to properly look him in the eyes, and your own tears formed when you saw that pathetic puppy dog looking back at you. 
“Why not?” You demanded, much sharper than you intended. You knew he was fragile and you didn’t want to upset him any further than he already was. 
“You know why.” He replied, his voice barely scraping above a whisper as the emotion clutched at his throat. 
Jason wanted to hold onto you forever, but he was also a realistic person. He expected that any minute now, you would rip away from his arms and charge out the door, entirely angry with him, and this would finally be over. You would finally be safe from him - safe from any nasty fate his life could conjure up for you. 
You hated what he was asking of you - asking you not to care for him anymore. As if you could somehow switch it off. Impossible. 
“I meant what I said.” You repeated yourself, still entirely firm in this conviction. “I’m not gonna let you go that easily.” 
You leaned in, planting your lips on his in a light kiss. A pained sigh ripped through you when he didn’t make any moves to kiss you back. 
“Jason, please.” You whimpered out desperately. “If you get to bandage my bullet wound, then I get to do this.” 
Jason wanted to spell it all out for you, plain and dirty. He wanted to get angry, he wanted to scream. He wanted to rush along the inevitable. He wanted to tell you what a poison he was to the world, that he deserved to die and you deserved better things. But he had the utmost feeling that you wouldn’t listen. 
“Please, stop pushing me away.” You whispered against his lips. 
Instead, he listened to your plea. He let himself indulge in this selfish softness for once. 
He reached up and grabbed your jaw, pulling you into a firmer kiss, declaring every ounce of passion and terror that he was feeling in those moments. You answered it all right back - digging your fingers into the shoulders of his shirt, letting out a hot huff against his cheek as you leaned into his body. 
He would never be perfect - but he was yours.
...
PLEASE NOTE: I do have a sequel in mind for this, but I don't know when I am going to have it finished and posted. Please do not ask me to write more of this or ask me when the sequel will be coming. If you are going to comment, please comment about the body of work here that I have already written.
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ladykailitha · 3 months
Text
Sweet Surrender Part 1
Welcome to the Paper Hearts sequel I've been banging on about for a while. This picks up literal hours after the first one ends so...yeah. Read that first.
I'll be using the tag list from Paper Hearts for this, but due to the purge I do have FIVE slots open.
This is mature. The second chapter is their first time, so just a heads up. Also it has extended to 4 chapters and might end up being five. I tried so hard to stop that. I honestly did. But alas! I had even given myself permission to make the chapters as long as they needed to be, and STILL it added an extra chapter.
*sigh*
Summary: After the events in Paper Hearts, Eddie and Steve navigate their first date, their first time, Eddie's friends, Steve's ex, and prom! It's a lot, but they'll make it through.
****
Steve only had mere hours to come up with the perfect Valentine’s day plans. But he knew what to do.
He bought flowers. Not roses. But white daisies. Beautiful and simple. He showered and merely changed into a long sleeved shirt and his nicest jeans he had. He told Eddie not too worry about getting dressed up. He had different plans.
After checking in with his kids to make sure he it all correct, he went to pick Eddie up from his trailer.
Wayne answered the door and he blinked at the sight of Steve Harrington at his door again, this time with flowers.
“Got lost again?” he teased, opening the door wide enough to let the young man in.
Steve grinned in response. “Not this time, no.”
“So I’m guessing the flowers aren’t for me then,” he said, indicating that Steve should sit on the sofa.
“No, sir.”
Wayne smirked. “Uh huh. And where are you going that you have to leave so early?”
“Bloomington,” Steve said, cheerfully.
Eddie came out of the bathroom fluffing his curls. “What’s in Bloomington?”
“It’s a surprise,” he replied, standing back up. “These are for you.”
Eddie’s expression softened. “Stevie, you didn’t have to do that.”
“I believe a request was made for the full Harrington charm,” he said with a smile.
Eddie took the flowers. “I don’t think we have anything to put these in.”
Steve’s smile turned into a grin.
“All I need is a pair of scissors and a tall glass.”
Wayne got out the glass while Eddie got the scissors. Steve held up the flowers to the glass and then with two mighty snips, the flowers were much shorter. He put them in the glass and filled it with water from the kitchen sink.
“There you go,” he said handing the glass to Eddie.
“Wow.”
Wayne chuckled. “I’ll admit I was little worried about the flowers, but I guess I wasn’t banking on you being so resourceful.”
Steve blushed and ducked his head.
Eddie decided to save his boyfriend from the embarrassment and said, “You ready to go?”
Steve brightened. “Sure thing.”
Eddie grabbed his leather jacket and they made their way to the car.
“You really aren’t going to tell me where we’re going?” he asked as Steve held the door open for him.
“Nope!” Steve replied cheerfully and then hurried to get over to his side of the car.
****
On the way down, Steve and Eddie talked about music and what influenced those choices.
“You don’t like pop?” Eddie asked. “I thought that was a prerequisite of being king of the social ladder.”
Steve shook his head. “And if what Max says is true, Billy Hargrove is a metal fan, so... no.”
Eddie tilted his head to the side and regarded Steve for a moment. “She that red-headed girl I see him with sometimes?”
“That’s the one,” Steve said nodding his head. “She’s his step-sister, but she hates his racist, homophobic, abusive ass.”
Eddie grimaced. “Is she going to be okay?”
“She’s got a lot of people looking out for her,” Steve said with a nod. “It’s hard sometimes, but we make it work.”
“Argh,” Eddie scoffed. “I can’t believe Hargrove is a metal fan. That’s a disservice to the genre, sweetheart.”
Steve chuckled and shook his head. “That’s what Dustin said.”
“Wait your pocket nerd is a metalhead, too?” Eddie asked, his eyes going wide. “How the hell did you fall in with this kid?”
“Oh, entirely by accident,” he huffed, “I assure you.”
“Huh.”
****
They arrived in Bloomington and Steve deftly navigated the town as if he was born in it. Eddie watched him in fascination as the other boy took what was clearly a well known path.
“I had to ask several times to make sure they were talking about the right shop,” Steve said pulling up to a two story building. “Because my dad used to take me here all the time when I was a kid to get baseball cards, but apparently in the ten years since I was last here, they’ve expanded quite a bit.”
Eddie stepped half out of the car onto the pavement, standing up. “Holy shit, Stevie.”
Steve chuckled and got out of the car. He leaned on the roof of his car, with his arms folded between him and the cold metal. He smiled fondly. He knew this was a great idea.
“Azathoth’s Emporium?” Eddie asked in awe. “Holy shit, Steve. This is like the Holy Grail of game shops in Indiana.”
“Yup!”
Eddie looked over at him and leaned on the roof top as well. “You are off to a banging head start there, darlin’.”
Steve slapped the roof and said with a grin, “Just wait until you see what’s inside.”
Eddie scrambled to get out of the car and close the door behind him. He caught up to Steve and leaned into his space. “I could kiss you right now.”
“Count how many times you want to do that,” Steve whispered back, “and tell me the number so I kiss you that many times when I drop you off at home.”
A feral grin spread out over Eddie face. “You might regret that.”
Steve tucked a hair behind Eddie’s ear and murmured, “I think I can safely promise that I won’t.”
“Full Harrington charm, huh?”
Steve threw his head back and laughed. “Right in one, babe.”
Eddie stayed close to Steve as they entered the shop. All around them were games and figures and posters and dice and cards and comics and everything thing that Eddie could have ever dreamed.
“Come on,” Steve said softly, grabbing his elbow to steer him toward the stairs. “What you want is on the top level.”
Eddie looked around in awe. “Maybe just a little...” he waved at the first floor with a quivering lip.
Steve swung round to look him in the eye. “I’m saving that for the grand finale, I just want to show you something first.”
Eddie brightened up immediately and dutifully followed Steve up the stairs. It was a light wood stairs with black iron wrought banisters. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from anything. Steve looked back and chuckled.
Then Steve started looking down each aisle searching for the particular part of the store but he needn’t have bothered. Toward the back was a large red dragon looking like it was bending the shelve it was standing on.
Eddie stopped in his tracks. “Stevie...there’s a dragon over there.”
“Yup!” Steve chirped happily. “And we’re going over there to meet him.”
“Mmk!”
Eddie hurried to catch up to Steve as he motioned for him to move faster.
There were figures, books, dice, DM screens, character sheets, and just about everything Eddie could every dream of for D&D right there in front of him.
“Stevie...” he whimpered. “I didn’t know there could be something like this here.”
Steve looked around and then gave Eddie’s hand a squeeze. “Come on. I’ve got money to burn and a boyfriend to spoil.”
Eddie’s head turned slowly to face Steve and when he saw he was serious, his face transformed into the most besotted grin. He skipped over to the display and began hopping around, looking at everything.
Steve just watched with a smitten expression on his face, please that his idea panned out. Eddie ended up picking a DM screen, a pad of character sheets, two figures and a red and black speckled dice that reminded him of his guitar at home.
“Ready to go see what else this place has to offer?” Steve asked as Eddie loped over to him.
Eddie nodded.
He picked up a couple of comics he had been dying to read, a book or three, and an action figure of Superman.
Steve got a couple of baseball cards.
As they walked out to the car, Eddie complained. “I don’t think it’s fair that you only got two cards when I got all these.” He held up his bags to show his point.
Steve laughed. “Eds...those cards are rare. They weren’t cheap. I assure you that I got the equivalent of what’s in those bags.”
Eddie eye him suspiciously. “Are you sure?”
“Yup!”
Steve put their stuff in the trunk and they drove off back to Hawkins.
“What’s next?” Eddie asked with a grin. “Not that this wasn’t amazing. I just have a feeling you were just getting started.”
“Dinner.” Steve glanced over at him and smile at the deep blush on his cheeks.
“I’m not exactly dressed for something fancy,” he muttered, picking at the hole in the knee of his jeans.
“Fantastic!” Steve said, happily tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. “There was no way I was getting somewhere expensive this late into planning. Their reservations would have been full on months ago. I’ll take you somewhere fancy, make no mistake, besides I wanted to do something fun. Sitting for three hours in stuffy clothes being judged by the staff and other patrons for looking at the menu for too long is NOT fun.”
Eddie looked up at him for a moment and the ducked his head again, this time blushing with pleasure instead of shame.
“We’re going to Benny’s!” he announced proudly.
Eddie’s eyes darted up and at Steve for a moment. “Wait, really?”
Steve hummed his agreement. “It won’t be as busy by the time we get there and we can share a shake afterwards.”
Eddie lifted his head and shimmied haughtily. “And what makes you think we have the same taste in milkshakes, Stevie?”
“I was hoping you’d want to share the triple chocolate brownie shake with me,” he replied with a half shrug.
Eddie’s eyes nearly fell out of his head. “Um...statement retracted, we obviously have the same tastes in milkshake.”
“I hoped so.”
*
They got Benny’s and had a wonderful meal and by the time it was time to share their milkshake they were the only ones left in the place.
They sat next to each other and playfully fought over every bite, chasing each other’s spoons and smearing it on each other’s faces.
Benny and the waitress just shook their heads and left them alone. Finally they said goodbye and Steve walked Eddie to the car to open the door for him.
“I’d normally take out to the quarry to do some star gazing before taking you home,” Steve murmured as he held open the door. “But there are a couple of problems with that.”
“We’d freeze our asses off?” Eddie guessed. “And considering how delightful yours is, it would be a damn shame to lose it.”
Steve chuckled and went around to the other side of the car, allowing Eddie to close his own door. “And there’s school tomorrow. So how about this, if you aren’t busy tomorrow, I’ll take you star gazing then. I’ll bring lots of blankets and thermos of hot chocolate if that’ll sweeten the deal.”
Eddie pretended to think about it, tapping his finger to his lips. “Sounds amazing, sweetheart!”
Steve grinned and took him home. He followed Eddie inside, a little pleased that Wayne wasn’t home at that moment.
“So, rockstar,” Steve cooed, pulling Eddie close to him after they had shucked off their coats, “How many kisses do you get?”
Eddie held up his hand that he had been using to to keep tally marks. “Looks like ten.”
Steve grinned and cupped Eddie’s cheek and placed a gentle kiss to his lips. “That’s one.”
Eddie took a deep, shuddering breath and let it out slow. Then Steve kissed him again. This one a little deeper.
“Fuck, Stevie,” he muttered after the fourth kiss. “You really are good at this, aren’t you?”
Steve hummed his agreement before diving in for kiss number five.
By the tenth kiss, they were making out, standing in the middle of Eddie’s trailer, bodies pressed together like pieces of a puzzle.
“Shit,” Steve breathed, pulling away only far enough to press their foreheads together. “If we don’t stop now, I won’t be able to keep my hands off you. And we still have school tomorrow.”
Eddie chuckled. “So what you’re saying is that after our little star gazing trip to the quarry tomorrow, we’ll be coming back here for sex?”
Steve’s head shot up and he looked Eddie in the eyes. “And you’d want that with me?”
“Sure would,” he whispered. “It’s hard enough stopping right now, but make no mistake, I want it all with you.”
Steve gulped and then nodded. “Yeah, me too, Eds. Me too.”
“Go on then,” Eddie whispered. “I’ll see you at school tomorrow.”
Steve smiled and then said his goodbyes. He walked out to his car and leaned on the steering wheel, looking up at the lit windows of the trailer park. The first time he’d come here was because he had been stupid. Running without direction or purpose. But he couldn’t deny that it had probably brought him here. Staring up at his boyfriend’s home and staring dreamy-eyed up at it like some love sick fool.
He shook his head fondly and started the engine. “You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington, but at least you’re someone’s idiot.”
He pulled away and drove home. When he got into the kitchen there was a message on the answering machine.
“Steven,” his mother said sharply. “I understand it’s Valentine’s Day but you should be home by now.” There was a gruff voice in the background and then his mother’s voice rang out on the tape. “Your father has just informed me that it’s barely 6pm in Hawkins. So when you get this, just be aware we are extending our stay. You father met some Japanese business men that he’d going to be trying to get a deal on their microchips. We won’t be home for at least another week. We’ll be transferring $500 to your account to make you get enough to eat. Be home soon. Kisses.”
Steve let out a long sigh. As much as he hated having his parents gone, this was a blessing. He had almost cleared out his allowance for the month on his little Valentine’s trip with Eddie. Not that that was a problem. Quite the opposite, but still that extra money would really help him out.
He really couldn’t wait until tomorrow now. He didn’t have to worry about his parents asking questions on where he’d been.
****
Part 2 Part 3 Part 4
Tag List: FIVE SLOTS OPEN
1- @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @spectrum-spectre
2- @slv-333 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson
3- @messrs-weasley @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv
4- @wonderland-girl143-blog @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @dam28lh
5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon
6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @fullpoetrybread
7- @disrespectedgoatman @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @moonshadows-13
8- @skyewaytohell @swimmingbirdrunningrock @croatoan-like-its-hot @lolawonsstuff @lololol-1234
9- @dotdot-wierdlife @ravenfrog @dauntlessdiva @thelittleclare @steddieyourself
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coralinnii · 1 year
Text
❋ If you are a villain, then let me be your accomplice ❋
feat: Floyd
genre: slow burn romance
note: sequel to reincarnated into a new world as the bad guy AU Floyd ver, no pronouns used for reader, 2k word count
Series masterlist
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A new normal has unfortunately assimilated into your life since your incident during that fateful ball. You felt your entire being sink into the pit of your stomach as your brother came running to you when he returned from the party, frantically asking why one of the Leech family sons was asking about you.
“You fell on top of him? And then just ran away?!” You were close to strangling your younger brother for his big mouth, especially when your outraged mother just happened to walk in right at the moment, though you were sure the birds resting in your gardens would have heard your brother’s obnoxious exclamations.
“I can’t believe you didn’t even say sorry, just running away and leaving the poor boy” After scolding your ear off, your mother wrote a letter of apology to the Leech household and to your dismay, invited Floyd to your home so you could personally apologize for your rude behavior. “It’s the least we could do,” your mother said.
Soon, an apology dinner led to a quick tour around your father’s training ground, then eventually there wasn’t a day where you didn’t worry that you’ll see a head of ocean teal hair bursting through your doors, naturally making his way into the guest room like it was made for him, though your mother probably did request the servants to keep that room clean everyday for his arrival anyway.
“Fishie, I’m bored~” You were convinced that Floyd was aware of your wariness of him which was why he intentionally spends his time constantly by your side, poking you and demanding you to entertain him anytime he was bored, which was all the time. He complains when you wouldn’t pay attention to him (eventhough he barged into your classes), drags you to spar with him during your father’s knight training sessions (eventhough you weren’t part of your father’s knight squad), and even naps in your bedroom while waiting for you (eventhough there’s a guest room literally just for him!).
Your wariness soon became frustration as you swore that Floyd was doing this just to get a rise out of you, for you to finally snap and give him a reason to squeeze you. You couldn’t figure it out but you’re starting to realize that the tall intruder only seems happy when you’re mentally suffering from his antics.
What’s worse was that your family doesn’t seem to see this as a concern. Your father was pleased to see potential in Floyd as a fighter and your brother became fascinated with the stories of merfolk and trinkets Floyd brings anytime he visits. The worst was your mother who was happy to have the sharp-toothed man visit them so often, calling him a sweet delight in the home.
“Crazy. They’re all crazy!” Your sanity as thin as silk thread and about as high-strung was tested everyday and it was at its breaking point one day when you had to join him for a night in the town, where a small festival was being held.
“Your dear friend was kind enough to invite you… you should go out more…Don’t be such a slugabed…Why can’t I be a slugabed, mom? Nothing wrong with that” lost in your grumbles, Floyd pulled you around the bustling crowds of the market to various food stalls when he felt an inkling of hunger. You supposed you were glad he was in a good mood for now, beats the alternative.
“Hey Fishie, Check this out!” You looked to see your companion with a satisfied grin on his face. “Look at what I got from the kebab stall!”
A satisfied grin plastered on his face, Floyd held out what you assumed was a meat kebab but the sheer length of it caught you off guard. The impulsive eel persuaded the stall owner to combine the sticks together to create a kebab much longer than intended (or recommended). Adorned with alternating grilled meat and vegetables, Floyd’s kebab stick was more of a kebab sword.
“Oh my goodness” you let out a gasp, wide-eyed at oddity before you. “Is that possible…or safe?” Clearly it was possible with the monstrosity clearly in his hands but your concern was more towards if such a food-covered stick was safe to wave around in a crowded area like this, where someone could accidentally get hit by that thing-
Whack “Hey, what’s the big idea?!”
Why couldn’t you be wrong?
As you feared, Floyd's creative street food managed to swing around and smacked an unsuspecting man in the back of his head. He turned, and your instincts immediately warned you that this man was not the forgiving type of fellow. His scowl seemed to target you, possibly because you seemed to be an easier victim to blame.
“What’s the big idea? A couple of prissy nobles walkin’ around thinkin’ they can do whatever they want?” The ruffled man snarled out in a gruff tone, his friends behind him copying his scowls with furrowed eyebrows and visibly clenched fists. “You better walk away if ya know what’s good for yer.”
But Floyd was not the least bit intimidated by the hostile group and started to scowl back, a dangerous look glazing over his mix-matched eyes. Before you could apologize, the tall merman stepped in front of you, towering over the stranger and blocking your figure from sight. Bystanders whispered and gasped as many started to back away from what looked to be an impending fight.
“Haaa? You minnows tryin’ to pick a fight?” Floyd tilted his head to the side glaring down at the other man, a hand squeezing his shoulder as though to limber up his arm. To you, he seemed like the meaner bully than anyone. “Sure, let’s have some fun then.”
“What’s going on over there?!” You heard another voice bellowing from afar and your worries suddenly shot up. Amongst the crowd, you could see a pair of men in armour making their way towards your direction where the commotion was.
“No. No. No. I don’t want to spend my night getting arrested!” Looking back to Floyd, you saw the wildness in his eyes barely being held back, dead set on starting a fight. You knew there wasn’t a chance to talk Floyd down when he gets this riled up so in a panic, you made a risky move.
Quietly crouching down, you scooped a handful of sand and gravel. With all your mustered courage, you side-stepped from behind your tall friend and threw the debris straight into the ruffian’s eyes, momentarily blinding him. The stranger bellowed with pain as he quickly back again in response.
“AARRGGHH, YOU CRAZY B-“ the blinded man couldn’t finish his sentence as you made the final blow by kicking him further backwards, his friends scrambling to catch him as he groaned in his suffering.
Taking the chance, you quickly grabbed Floyd and rushed away from the scene. Your mind ignored voices cursing you as you recklessly weaved through the crowd away from the knights and the ruffians and towards anywhere that had less of a crowd, your hand tightly holding on to the merman who was strangely quiet, stunned by your impulsive actions. But the ruffians were quick to recover as they started catch their bearings and chase after the two of you, rage fuelled in their motivations.
The chase brought you to a pier by the ocean that was as ink black as the night sky. You could still hear their voices coming closer and soon regret and fear flooded your senses.
“What do I do…what do I do?” You mumbled in panic, with tears lining your eyes. You have completely forgotten that Floyd could feel you shake through your hand still interlocked with his.
Your companion watched you quivering like a scared little seal and hearing angry footsteps approaching, when a fun idea crossed his mind.
“Hey Fishie,” his casual voice finally made you remembered his presence. “We gotta hide, right? I know a place~”
“Wha-“ Without a second to let you ask more, Floyd swiftly picked you up from your shoulders to fling you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and in one fluid motion, he threw you right into the waters without remorse.
Splash
In your flabbergasted state from the audacity and the sheer ice cold feeling of the water, your frazzled mind didn’t even register Floyd jumping in soon after you until he wrapped his arms around you, clasping your hand over your mouth to stop you from screaming. Floyd was surprisingly comforting with his hold on you as his long arms kept you afloat above the cold waters as he expertly led your body further from the pier where you could faintly hear shouting from afar.
Eventually, the noises quiet down and all there’s left were the waves of the water splashing against your skin. Unfortunately, the darkened sky allowed no light for your eyes to scan your surroundings. You could barely see Floyd very well despite feeling his body close to yours. “Floyd, can you see the pier?”
“Yea, can’t you?” Floyd asked but you shook your head, your eyes couldn’t adjust to your surroundings with almost no light in sight. “Too dark, huh? Hmmm, close your eyes for a second, will ya? I’m gonna do somethin’”
Though skeptical, you did as he asked. Minutes went by and before the fear that the ocean-haired man might had left you, a luminous glow nearly permeated through your eyelids. You could tell there was bright beacon of light close to you but there strangely wasn’t a sense of heat from the source.
“…Alright, open ‘em”
Floyd watched intently as you opened your eyes and saw something purely inhuman. The once tall man was no longer in his human form but instead his long eel-like body was wrapped around you which glowed a shimmering blue light from his bioluminescence. This was the first time you’ve him in his most natural form.
Floyd waited silently for a reaction from you, an unreadable look in his gold and brown eyes. With his natural glow, nothing was hidden from you. You could see his sharp claws protruding from his large webbed hands, his dotted blue skin coated with slime, and his large monstrous tail in lieu of those human legs he acquired. All land-dwellers do is gawk and shriek at whatever is unnatural to them and he suspected you’d be the same, just like all the boring humans…
“Floyd, you’re beautiful!”
You couldn’t help but marvel at the sight before you. Your old life fantasized and told tales of merpeople but would never come to see such a visionary sight like this. Even after finding yourself in this new world, many mermaids and mermen had to hide themselves from anti-merfolk humans on land so you still haven’t had the chance to meet them in such a natural form…Until now.
“Wow, you’re glowing from your chest to your tail…” your eyes sparkled with child-like wonder as you watched the light from Floyd’s body shimmer in the waters, reminding you almost like the waves of light of an aurora in the sky. Your fingers curiously grazed the surface of Floyd’s tail which felt cool and smooth to the touch, most likely due to the natural secretion of his skin to keep him hydrated. You reached back to his clawed fingers which you swore looked bigger than those of his human form, bigger than yours at least, which made you ponder if merfolks varied in sizes as well. “This feels like a dream”
“…Hehe, how long are you gonna touch me, Fishie~?” Floyd’s little tease snapped you out of your daze as he grinned down at you. His tone sounded accusatory but his sly grin spoke volume of his amusement over your fascination with his body.
Quickly, you let go of his webbed fingers. “I-I’m sorry, Floyd. I was just surprised. I’ve never seen a merman’s body before and-and” you stammered and splashed around but not even the ice cold waters could cool the sensation in your cheeks. You felt the burn of embarrassment just thinking how Floyd was watching you fawn over his body like a reckless pervert.
Distracted by your shame, Floyd took the opportunity to hold you tighter than before, his glowing body coiling around your legs and letting you feel his firm muscles as you felt forced to sit atop of his tail. Gently, the merman cradled your head as he smiled a toothy grin at you, seemingly happier than you’ve seen him all day, though you couldn’t figure out why.
“My Fishie never disappoints~ It’s always so fun when I’m around you, I can’t get enough!” Floyd surprised you by pressing his cheek to yours, nuzzling against your skin as he hummed in a satisfied tone. Seriously, what’s gotten him in such a good mood?
“Wait, don’t think I’d forgive you for throwing me into the water!”
919 notes · View notes
party-hearses · 1 year
Text
don’t be a brat, baby | joel miller x f!reader
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sequel to relax, baby
pairing: joel miller x f!reader (NO USE OF Y/N)
rating: explicit, 18+ MDNI
wordcount: 7.2k
summary: in a desperate attempt to get back into Joel’s arms, you brave a night at the bar with your coworkers.
series warnings/tags: porn with some plot (oops), explicit smut, unprotected piv, creampie, pet names (princess, baby), language, size kink, praise kink, public sex (kinda), bulge kink, joel and reader being a menace to everyone around them. lmk if I’m forgetting anything!
author's note: thank you so much for all the love on relax, baby! i honestly can’t believe how many people requested a part two. i had so much fun writing this. comments, reblogs, asks, feedback, etc. are SO SO SO appreciated! i swear i don’t bite. 🫶
🖤 dedicated to @nostalxgic forever and always
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Monday morning comes both too quickly and not quickly enough.
Declining all invitations from friends over the weekend, you had been all too content to remain in your bedroom, hands shoved down the front of your underwear, the film reel of Joel’s hands on you a constant replay in your mind. Joel’s everything, if you’re being honest.
A mixture of excitement and anxiety coils in the pit of your belly, overflowing into your extremities. You flex your fingers against the steering wheel in an attempt to diffuse some of the nervous energy, but the knowledge that you’re walking — falling — into unknown territory sits at the forefront of your mind.
Can he fire you for fucking in the office? Even if it was him you were fucking?
When you arrive, Joel’s truck isn’t in the lot, but that’s standard for this early in the morning — he’s made it clear he’s not an early-to-rise, early-to-work kind of guy.
There’s some comfort in knowing if he shows up at all, it won’t be until later in the day. The ability to shove off the inevitable strangeness, whatever shape it may take, allows you to actually get out of your car and get moving.
But as you unlock and open the door, the celluloid frames of your memory catch fire — burning the imprint of Joel’s body hovering above yours, the thick ropes of the muscles in his neck drawn taut, into the spaces that burst with color behind your eyelids.
A heated flush creeps across your collarbones, the distinct recognition of arousal blooming in your chest.
You shove the feeling all the way down to your toes, sweeping your gaze across the surface of the desk.
It does look somewhat neater than it had when you’d left, everything stacked in the appropriate piles, the receipt book tucked away in the drawer. Credit where credit is due, you think, wondering how defiled the paperwork actually is, and if Joel would have even noticed.
Settling in to try to determine if any of it is salvageable (it is…regrettably), you do what you can to ignore the pavlovian-like wetness pooling at your core. Just being in the office, being seated in the chair, makes it difficult not to drop your fingers between your thighs at the memory of it. For a split second, you consider if it’s something you could get away with.
Pushing back from the desk, stretching the lengths of your arms against the lip of it, you drop your head back, releasing a long, slow breath. Get it the fuck together. You will not masturbate at work to the thought of your boss. Even if your boss had let slip that he masturbated to the thought of you…
Oh, god.
Caffeine. You need caffeine. Of course you need caffeine, because coffee fixes everything — including your need to have Joel’s cock jammed into the furthest reaches of you as soon as possible.
Grateful for something tangible and decisive, you rush out of the office, barely remembering to lock the door behind you.
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Your blood now buzzing with the first few sips of an iced latte, you push the door to the office open with your hip, the already too-hot morning sun pouring into the room around you.
“Mornin’, princess.”
You freeze, fingers gripping the sweating plastic cup in your hand. Cunt throbbing at the deep baritone of his voice, a dull ache pulling across your lower half. The realization that you hadn’t needed to unlock the door dawns on you.
He’s seated at the desk, pushed back with both feet kicked up on the surface of it. Arms bent at the elbow into acute angles, fingers laced behind his head. The sun paints him in a silhouette, hiding his strong, angular features.
If you weren’t practically salivating just from the sight of him, you’d wonder why the fuck he always seemed to need to have his dirty work boots all over your paperwork.
“Joel,” you whisper breathily, “didn’t know you’d be here this early.” Any irritation you feel is washed out by arousal. Goddamnit.
Mechanically, you kick the door closed behind you, the click of the latch settling into your bones.
Joel hums stoically, leaning forward on his elbows.
“Get anythin’ done this mornin’?” he asks, pointedly.
Dragging your lower lip into your mouth with your teeth, you shake your head slowly. The anxiety you’d been feeling all morning flares, threatening to spill over.
Can you file for unemployment if you’ve fucked your boss?
“Nah, me either.” He slaps the palms of his hands spiritedly against the flat of the desk, pushing himself up off the chair. “Been a little…distracted.”
His face relaxes into a dangerous smirk, eyebrow quirked, gaze burning into you.
Arrogant motherfucker.
You plant your free hand on your hip. “Really? Playing the fucking ‘boss’ card?”
“Yeah, I’m playin’ the fuckin’ boss card.”
He laughs, his dark eyes glowing with what you can only call depravity — a commanding acknowledgement of what he knows he’s doing to you. Like he could swallow you whole, if given the chance.
You’d let him, you think.
“Can’t be here long,” he says lowly, eyes roving over you — devouring you. “Have a few sites to be at this week. Only stopped by to make sure everything here was…goin’ okay.”
The invisible addendum hangs in the air between you: to torture you.
His long legs bring him to stand in front of you in just a few short steps, his heady scent all-consuming. Clean, comfortable, him. There are only a few inches of space between your bodies, and the tips of your fingers tingle with a need to run them over the solid plane of his chest. To drag them through his unkempt waves.
His presence is imposing — commanding the room, even when it’s just you inside it. Looking down at you, chin angled, he curls his fingers into the plush of your cheeks. It makes the electricity crackling between the two of you that much more real, the doubt you had earlier melting away beneath his touch.
“Baby,” he growls darkly, leaning in to trace the shell of your ear with his nose, “thought about you all fuckin’ weekend.” His free hand snakes around your waist, dropping to squeeze the flesh of your ass through your shorts. “Looked at that picture ‘f you full ‘f my cum so many times.”
Your eyes widen, pupils dilating at the thought of him jerking off to the thought of you, just like you had him. It’s an almost jealous feeling that rolls through you — how unfair that he got to have a visual reminder of it, when all you had was your thoughts.
But it emboldens you.
“Joel,” you pout, speech lilted by his fingers pressing into your flesh, “don’t want you to leave.” You’re not used to being so forward, but you’re also not used to spending entire weekends giving yourself orgasm after orgasm from memories alone.
He gently pulls his hand away from your mouth, the sting of his grip still firm across your face. He doesn’t let go completely, and dragging your bottom lip with his thumb, he juts his own out in mock sympathy. The speed of your heart picks up.
“I’m the boss, remember, princess? Got shit to do.”
Your cheeks burn, eyes narrowing. A reminder that he can be such a fucking dick.
Catching your expression, he laughs again, before dropping his head to kiss up the length of your neck.
“My poor baby. Has to actually get work done today.” It’s a whisper against the hollow of your throat, sending chills rippling through you.
You’re not that naive, despite the way he has you under his spell.
“Fuck off, Joel.” You push your hand against his solid chest, but he doesn’t budge. Instead, he catches your wrist in the smooth palm of his hand, pulling you to meet his mouth. The arm that’s still wrapped around your waist drags you further into his body, and you have to stand on your tiptoes to match the intensity of him crashing his lips to yours.
He doesn’t wait for permission before rolling his tongue against yours, taking everything you have to offer. Tracing up the lines of your neck with the rough pads of his fingers, he wraps the thick length of them just below your ear, tipping your head back with his thumb to open you up for him. As he deepens the kiss, you can taste the robust richness of his morning coffee. You briefly consider what it would be like to be the one to make it for him every day.
It’s easy to lose yourself in him, the hypnotic rhythm of his mouth against yours, so it catches you off guard when he pulls back delicately, large hand still cradling your jaw.
“Really have to go, baby,” he says in a murmur against your mouth.
You whimper against him, but acquiesce by untangling yourself from his grip. The ice in your latte has long melted, and you move to chuck it in the trash next to the desk.
Before you can, Joel shoots one arm out across your chest, nuzzling into you to run his nose along the line of your jaw, up to the curve of your ear.
“Still have the panties I ripped off you,” he purrs. “Filled those with my cum, too.”
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The rest of the week is much of the same, except you can’t actually get Joel’s hands on you at all. Even in passing.
He’s in and out of the office, finding and filing paperwork, taking and making phone calls, dropping crumpled receipts into your waiting hands. Business as usual.
Seemingly just as frustrated by it as you are, the most you get is a quick nip to the slope of your shoulder as he argues with a supplier.
“Asshole,” he mouths, pointing to his cell phone with his other hand.
You would be a little less tightly wound if it was just Joel, but it almost never is. There’s a steady stream of his guys dawdling around the office at almost all times, your brother being there most consistently. As if he possesses a sixth sense to crowd you out of any chance at revisiting the best dick you’ve ever had.
On Wednesday, he’s picking his fingernails in the chair across the desk, while you work through a spreadsheet of the past month’s expenditures. Mumbling to yourself, eyes focused on the totals, half-listening to him complain about how expensive a wedding is.
“Adam,” you interrupt, breaking your gaze away from the laptop screen. “Obviously weddings are fucking expensive. If you were gonna bitch about it nonstop, why did you even get engaged?”
A beat of silence.
“Damn, what’s your problem?” he sneers after a moment, brows knitted together in what you can assume is annoyance.
I need to be dicked down by our fucking boss, you think, but roll your eyes at him, instead.
“I’m busy.”
Adam snorts.
“Molly would be pissed to hear you talking about your wedding like that, anyway. I’m just doing her a favor.” The end of your sentence tapers off quietly, as you switch your stare back to the screen.
You are partial to Adam’s fiancée, if not for her bubbly personality, for letting you crash with them between semesters every summer.
“I see where your loyalty lies,” he scoffs, raising himself out of the chair. “Thought we were family.”
“Yeah, Adam, me not letting you talk shit about your upcoming wedding is disloyal,” you respond with a single, hollow laugh, distractedly typing a figure into a blinking cell.
He chuckles, running the toe of his boot along the worn carpet.
“Guys’re goin’ out Friday. I can tell Molly that you two can have a girls night. Drink wine and shit. Since that’s who's back you have.”
Keeping your eyes fixed to the screen, you’re desperate to play it casual, despite the intense prickle of your skin. Will Joel be there?
“Or I could come bug the shit out of you, since you love to do that while I’m trying to work.”
“You’re always invited, princess,” he drawls.“‘M sure the guys would love to see you.”
Every part of your body shudders. Typical Adam, upping the ante of disgusting. You choose to ignore it.
“Your boss usually go to these things?” you ask instead, words measured. You don’t dare glance over at your brother, fearing he’d read the intent all over your face.
But he shrugs, unfazed. “Sometimes. Depends, I guess.”
“On what?” This time you do look at him, but his eyes are fixed on his phone screen, thumb scrolling lazily.
He mumbles something that you don’t catch, obviously distracted by what he’s seeing. Useless.
Knowing he’s moved on from the conversation, you sigh with a certain air of disappointment. You could go, you know, on the off-chance that Joel does show up, but the idea of being there alone with your brother and his work friends makes you wrinkle your nose.
Adam turns to leave, throwing a quick see ya over his shoulder as he pulls the door open.
“Hey! Let me know about Friday!” you call after him, raising yourself up on your arms, a half-assed attempt to make sure he hears you.
He’s already on the other side, door whipping shut behind him.
Aggravated, you sink back into the desk chair, raising your fists to settle your chin on them. You feel like a petulant child, continuously denied the thing you want so bad.
There’s a whole part of you that wants to kick and scream until you get it, until Joel is soothing your angry tears with his mouth pressed to your flesh, smoothing out the knots in your limbs, reaching into the most tender recesses of you to undo you.
Ruined, you think, as you draw your knees together tightly in an attempt to relieve the throb of your cunt.
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It’s Friday when you’re eating lunch (the saddest salad you’ve ever seen and the dredges of your iced coffee at the desk) when he texts you.
> J Miller: going w your bro tonite?
Your stomach flips. The restlessness that you’ve been feeling all week suddenly dials up to a 10 — an elastic compulsion that weaves itself into your lungs, your breath catching in your chest.
It’s the first time he’s texted you for non-work related things, which, much to your annoyance, should have been immediately after he made you see stars with his cock.
Either way, you’ve never texted anyone back faster.
> Me: are you?
Logic tells you to play coy, to make him wait, but it’s been an entire week since the cosmic shift of the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had, and you’re going out of your mind trying to get another one. There’s no use in pretending.
>J Miller: i am if you will b
Dragging your bottom lip between your teeth, you suppress a grin.
It’s starting to look like you’re not the only one who’s ruined.
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The bouncer eyes you up and down, and you’re half-tempted to lean over just a little to showcase your cleavage. The stretchy black dress you’re wearing barely covers your ass, but leaves just enough to the imagination.
You have a feeling that Joel will want to tear it off you, too.
“You alone?” the bouncer asks, gaze flicking between your ID and you.
“My friends are inside,” you coo. “Just gotta meet them.”
He grunts, nodding his head and handing you back the flimsy piece of plastic.
“Gimme a shout if anyone gives you a hard time.”
Flashing the biggest smile you can, you shimmy past him, into the dark bar. Inside, the smell of stale beer and spilled liquor meets you, and you scan the bustling space for anyone you know. The first person you spot is your brother, who waves you over, a pint of dark beer in his hand.
You feel sexy, but overdressed. An upscale cocktail bar The Hideout is not.
As you make your way over to the table, you notice a few recognizable faces from work crowded around, a majority of them sweeping their eyes over your form.
“Hey, Princess. Lookin’ good tonight,” jeers a guy you’ve seen around the site. Kevin? Maybe? Or Alex?
You raise your brows at him, lips pursed. You’ve always hated the nickname, but it feels distinctly wrong now, like it belongs to Joel. You’d like to tell him as much, shove it back in his mouth until he chokes.
But Kevin-or-Alex brings his beer to his lips, eyes still roving over you, corners of his mouth upturned in a sneer.
Moving along, brushing it off, you tip your head to the side, begging your brother for a drink with your eyes.
You don’t need to look around the table to know that Joel is at the end of it, because you can feel his stare burning into you. It takes everything in you to not climb over the guys seated next to him so you can settle in his lap, to grind your hips down into his, but the thought certainly crosses your mind. Knowing you can’t meet his eyes without giving yourself away, you take in the bar around you, gaze bouncing from table to table.
Adam tugs you back from the precipice of your reverie by knocking the table with his knuckles and standing from his chair.
“Gotta get the princess a drink,” he explains to his companions, much to the delight of them all gathered around the table. They laugh uproariously, like he’s just told the best joke of the century. Idiots.
Your brother steers you towards the bar with a hand on the small of your back, and you’re careful to sway your hips just enough as you walk away from the cluster of tables, knowing that Joel is watching. Adam sets his arms across the bartop, and you mirror him, trepidation bubbling in your stomach.
“You good?” he asks over the jukebox, currently blaring a Van Halen song.
“Mmhmm,” you reply, gazing at the bottles of liquor behind the bar.
“You never come out with us,” Adam continues, raising a hand to flag down the bartender. “Kinda weird.”
You shrug, cheeks heating at his questioning. “Dunno. Felt like…I should get to know the guys better.”
He angles his body to you, running his palm over his mouth. There’s a playful look in his eyes, one that you know means he sees right the fuck through you. “Ookay, weirdo. The same guys whose necks you want to wring for calling you ‘princess’ on a daily basis?”
“You call me that, too, asshole.”
He laughs loudly, turning away as the bartender finally makes his way down the bar to the pair of you.
“Vodka water, and a Rumple Minze shot,” you tell him, as he leans in to hear your order over the music.
A quick nod, a swift maneuvering of bottles, and your drinks are pushed in front of you.
“Thank god,” you mumble, picking the cocktail up and sipping it immediately.
“You’re, uh…attracting quite a bit of attention,” Adam says in a low voice, gesturing subtly back to the table of your coworkers.
“Wow, you fuckin’ think?” you roll your eyes, throwing the shot of schnapps back. There’s only one pair of eyes you want on you, and they’re connected to the dick you need in you.
“I’ve never seen you this…” Adam leans into you, bumping your shoulder, “cranky before. Why’d you come out if you’re in a bad mood?”
You soften, meeting his eyes. “I’m sorry. I’ve just been…a little too in my own head lately.”
The understatement of the century, considering that’s where Joel has made a home.
Adam doesn’t respond, just signals to the bartender, ordering you another shot with a flick of his head in your direction.
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The shots go down too easy, your skin flushing with the alcohol and body heat of the bar. You stick close to Adam’s side, and it feels like hours before you allow yourself to glance over at Joel.
Your brother is arguing with someone else about the structure of something you don’t care about when you finally work up the courage to do so, anxiously chewing bites into the plastic straw in your drink.
Joel is staring right back at you, same dangerous smirk pulled across his mouth. Watching the way your lips mold around the plastic, teeth scraping the flexible material. You know that smirk all too well, and want blossoms through your body.
The guy next to him is obliviously chatting his ear off, entirely unaware that Joel can’t take his eyes off of you. But he doesn’t make any kind of move to get up, or any kind of indication that he wants you to come over, so you stay rooted to the spot, entirely unsure how to proceed.
Some kind of frustration churns in your stomach, though you allow yourself to shoot him a coy smile over the rim of your glass. He returns the gesture by dipping his chin just slightly and raising his own drink to his mouth.
Whiskey, neat. The thought of tasting it on his tongue makes your cunt clench with need, and you have to look away to keep your composure.
He doesn’t even need to try, and you melt in the palm of his hand. Fuck.
You finish the rest of your drink in one go to try to settle your nerves, and nudge Adam with your elbow to let him know you’re headed back to the bar. He barely acknowledges you, still enthralled with his conversation.
As you slide up to the bartop, you bump shoulders with the person already waiting for another beer.
“Oh! Oops. My bad. Didn’t really…calculate my proximity, I guess.” You giggle as he turns to you, meeting your gaze with a shy smile.
He’s cute, in a fresh-faced and innocent kind of way. Golden brown hair and light eyes, about your age. His navy blue polo hangs a little too loose on his gangly frame, and it’s too easy to imagine him dressed as a mormon missionary to take him seriously.
“No worries. This place is pretty crowded,” he answers, angling his chin down to make sure you hear him.
The way he draws himself close gives you the wickedest of ideas. One that will surely make Joel get out of his seat and pay you the attention you so desperately deserve.
“It’s definitely the place to be, huh?” You purr, flicking your eyes up under your lashes to meet his, gently placing your hand on his forearm.
There’s an immediate dusting of crimson over his cheekbones, and you see him swallow hard.
“Y-yeah, it…it sure is.” There’s the slightest of drawls to his words, like syrup poured over pancakes on a sunday morning. It’s nothing compared to the thunder of Joel’s baritone, the sensual velvet of a saturday night shot of whiskey.
But you keep going, acutely aware of Joel’s eyes burning into your back. Tracing the curves and lines of you, watching every move you make. Watching you put your hands on someone else’s body, the hands that belong to him.
At least…that’s what you hope is going through his head.
The bartender slides your new friend’s beer across the warped wood, looking pointedly at you for your order next.
“Vodka water,” you grin, not removing your hand from the freckled forearm, “with a lemon. Please.”
New friend clears his throat, growing redder by the second.
“On my tab, please.”
“Ohmygod, you don’t need to do that!” You sigh warmly, stupidly. As if you don’t know exactly what you’re doing.
The drink is placed in front of you in no time, but you still haven’t moved your hand. Instead, you look up at your companion, lashes fluttering.
“You from here?” he manages to choke out, before washing the cliche down with a swig of his beer.
You nod, finally breaking contact to pick up the tumbler of vodka. “Born and raised. You?”
“Here for school. ‘M from Baton Rouge.”
Turning your body to face the open room of the bar, eyes flitting over the crowded space, you lean back on your elbows, drink in hand poised just below the swell of your breasts. There’s no way Joel can miss you, now.
“What’re you studying?” You couldn’t be less interested, but you keep your voice chipper and high, drawing him closer.
“PoliSci. I’m pre-law.” He says it with an air of confidence, which you can’t blame him for. It is impressive.
You take a long sip of your drink, considering how much you want to divulge about yourself to this stranger. How far you’re willing to take this game. You sneak a glance over at Joel, who’s watching you with an amused expression, brows lifted.
“Are you in school?” New friend continues, unaware of the come-fuck-me vibes you’re radiating from across the bar.
But Joel remains planted in his seat, thick thighs spread, left arm draped between them. Leaning back in the booth, matching your energy. Playing the game.
Snapping your attention back to the question, you nod again. “Not here, though. I’m in a masters program in Washington.”
“Do you like it there?”
You throw your head back in laughter, all too aware how ridiculous of a response it is to the question.
“I love it,” you say emphatically, still giggling. “So different from Austin.”
When you look at Joel again, he’s turned his attention to the guy next to him, nodding at whatever he’s saying intently. It stokes the frustration in you, and you can’t help but draw your face into a scowl — an entire 180 from how you’d just been laughing at a non-joke.
Before your new friend can respond to your maniacal answer, you push yourself off the bartop and turn towards him.
“I’m gonna run to the bathroom really quick, okay?”
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As you wash your hands, the door to the bathroom opens quickly, and Joel ducks inside, throwing a quick glance over his shoulder to make sure no one sees. He pushes it closed behind him, fingers clicking the lock shut like he owns the place.
“Oh,” you gasp in surprise, stepping back from the sink and wiping your hands across the material of your dress. “I didn’t…you’re not…Joel!”
His name comes out of your mouth as a yelp as he crowds you back against the counter, his hands already roaming over the hills and valleys of your body. Wasting no time.
“Baby,” he coos, dipping his head to trail kisses up the curve of your shoulder, “been waitin’ all night for you to go to the fuckin’ bathroom.”
You curl your fingers into his biceps to keep yourself steady while he presses wet kisses to your throat and jaw, before landing at your mouth. Gripping your hips tightly, his thigh nudges between yours, spreading you open. You do what you can to meet his fervor, but as with everything else, he’s domineering — completely in control.
His thick hands drag you up his thigh, into him, and the friction of his jeans against you makes you bite back a moan. He repeats the action with more intensity, obviously dismayed that you’re holding back, quickly establishing a grueling rhythm.
Squirming under his hold, he tastes the desperation on your tongue, and when you finally break and whimper into his mouth, he growls back into yours.
He has you exactly where he wants you — writhing in his arms, soft and compliant to what he needs.
At least, he thinks he does.
You dig your fingernails into the flannel stretched over his arms, steeling your body to his movements, pulling away from the heat of his mouth.
“Joel,” it’s a drawn out lilt, one that he’ll never get tired of hearing.
“Saw you over there tryna make me jealous, princesa,” he mutters, chest heaving against your own. He drops his mouth to press against the burning skin of your collarbone, and you can feel the stretched restraint in his muscled body.
“Wasn’t trying to make you jealous, Joel,” you protest quietly, though you both know it’s the furthest thing from the truth.
He laughs darkly, his breath fanning against your flesh. “Saw you touchin’ all up on some stranger.”
“I was just being nice. He bought me a drink.” You’re pouting now, sliding your open palms to press against the solidity of Joel’s chest.
He whips your body around so quickly that you have to shoot your arms out to the counter to catch yourself. The mirror greets you, and it’s impossible to miss your glowing skin and kiss-swollen lips. It doesn’t take anything for him to make you look entirely fucked out.
Hooking his chin over your shoulder, front pressed flush to your back, he drags his hands up the sides of your body, stopping to rest just below your breasts. His fingers splay out across your rib cage, nearly meeting in the middle.
Eyes meeting yours in the mirror, he smirks.
“Look what I do to you, baby. No one else can do that. Look at yourself.”
He rolls his hips against the swell of your ass, and you can feel his length through his jeans.
Your vision goes cloudy, the want you’ve been feeling all week flooding every part of your brain. You drop your head between your shoulders, relishing the feel of him pressed into you. But he quickly cranes your chin back up in his hands, angling your head to watch the glistening reflection of the two of you.
“Eyes on me, baby,” he says thickly, commandingly, as he continues to move against you. You obey.
“Can’t make me jealous, princess.”
Anger flares in your chest, slowly ebbing into embarrassment. Of course he would see right through you. You should have known better. You don’t break eye contact.
“That picture I have ‘f you? That tells me you’re mine. Can’t make me jealous when I know what belongs t’me.”
You inhale sharply. Hearing him say it, hearing him mean it, sends shivers over the entirety of your body.
“Why’d it take you so long to come over to me, then?”
His eyes flash. “Don’t be a fuckin’ brat, baby.”
Dropping his clutch from your chin to the top of your dress, he uses both hands to scoop your tits out over the bodice of it, palming the weight of them roughly. He rolls your nipples in his fingers, and you have dejavú of the week before.
This time you can see the way his fingers move, the way he watches your face in the reflection of the mirror more than anything else.
You moan, arching your back against his chest, and he drops one hand further to bunch the length of your dress over your ass.
Feeling entirely bare skin, he hisses through his teeth and pulls back to look.
“No panties, baby?”
You smile darkly. “Didn’t want you to ruin another pair.”
“Fuuuuck,” he mumbles, leaning down to flick his tongue against the base of your spine. “Knew you were fuckin’ trouble.”
He rucks your dress up higher, following the hem of it with open mouth kisses and demanding nips. You can feel your dripping slick on the insides of your thighs, and as if he can read your mind, he lays one open palm across your back to press your cheek down into the counter, slotting the other between your thighs to open you up for him. Your breathing quickens, knowing how on display you are.
How under his thumb you are.
Teasing the rough pads of his fingers against your core, electricity rolls through your extremities. Between the flush of the alcohol and the thrill of his touch, you know you’re done for.
“See, baby? How wet y’are? Know it’s only for me.”
Anticipation coils in the pit of your belly, waiting for him to plunge a thick finger inside of you. You squeeze your eyes shut, laser focused on every nudge and slip of his digits.
Instead, you feel him replace his finger with the thick heft of his cock at your entrance, your hands unsuccessfully scrambling for purchase on the slick marble of the counter.
“Joel,” you yelp, the delicious stretch of it seared into your mind, “I..I don’t kn-”
“You can take it, princess,” he interrupts gruffly. “You can.”
You respond with a strangled noise, knees buckling under the warning press of his palm on your back.
Reading the apprehension in your body, Joel grazes the fingers of his other hand over the curve of your hip, rubbing reassuring circles into your flesh. They dance up over your belly, finally grasping at your ribs. His mouth follows, gentle kitten licks that calm your breathing, until he stops right below where your breasts are compressed against the counter, sinking his teeth there into the soft give of you.
Both of his hands float back down to your hips, pressing their length into your bones roughly, dragging your ass back to push the tip inside of your slick folds.
Your eyes fly open, and you mewl as his teeth give way to an intense sucking sensation, as if he’s intent on marking you.
Knowing him, he is.
“Okay, baby?” he murmurs against your skin, once he’s satisfied with what you can feel is an angry red mark on your rib cage, sliding his hips forward to give you another inch, working you open, open, open.
“‘F we had more time, you know I’d do it right,” he continues, an almost tender cadence to his harsh whisper.
You nod, cheek still smooshed against the countertop, tears pricking at the backs of your eyes. He’s so fucking much.
His breath hitches as he buries himself further, the tight quiver of your perfect pussy making him see stars. He stills for just a moment, letting you adjust to him, lamenting the fact that he couldn’t get his fingers or tongue in you this time. But he’s so very desperate, has been waiting for this for far too long.
He wants to take you home with him, wrap you in his bedsheets. Undo you over and over and over.
For now, though, he will make do with what he has. And what he has is you, wet and needy beneath him, taking his cock like a good girl. Like a perfect girl.
“Joel,” you whisper, snapping him out of his reverie. “More. More please.”
You’re dizzy with need, aching to feel him stretch you open entirely.
He can taste the salt of sweat on your skin, the light sheen of it glittering under the fluorescent bar lights. It makes his heart ache with something he can’t name.
Rolling his head to press his forehead against your back, he can’t help but breathe you in. This is where he wants to be forever — pressed into you, feeling you tremble and keen for him. For him, and only him.
Unable to hold back any longer, he draws his body up, sliding inside to the hilt, pelvis pressed flush to your ass.
There are tears trickling from beneath your closed eyelids now, and he wants to lick them off your face, smooth out the pain in your features. Your body is taut, wound around the throbbing need you’re both feeling, your hands clenched into fists next to your head.
But he watches as you slowly drag your bottom lip between your teeth, sighing contently, savoring the sparks of pain from the size of him. Fucking perfect.
His entire cock has disappeared into your warmth, and you squeeze him like you were made to do so.
“So fuckin’ tight,” he manages to spit out, setting a pace that feels like you’re being split open. It’s exactly what you need.
You rock your hips, pushing back against his thrusts, thigh muscles screaming.
“So full,” you babble back, his hips snapping against the plush of your ass. Giving you everything you need, everything you’ve craved. His tip nudges the furthest part of you, and fireworks explode in your stomach. Your moans pick up at the same pace as his thrusts, and his grip tightens around your hips.
“C’mere baby,” he hums, arcing his arm across your chest to drag you up to him. You can feel the desperation in his movements, the stuttering of his hips as the new angle squeezes his cock deliciously.
He curls his fingers around the base of your throat, and for the first time, you see how absolutely fucked he looks. Black pupils blown wide with lust, strong jaw set to the side, hair mussed more than usual, stray curls clinging to his sweat-damp forehead. He’s beautiful, you think, but your brain can’t connect to your mouth to say so.
His palm spans the width of your throat, and he gently tightens his hold with each deep thrust into you. You raise your arms to card through his hair, clutching to him to ground yourself. His other hand grasps at your tits, caressing and pulling at your hard nipples.
Your legs are shaking with the intensity of it all, with the salacious way he massages your walls with the length of his cock. He’s watching you in the mirror, eyes fixed on the way you tremble around him, the way you grip him like you’ll melt into a puddle on the floor if you let go.
“So fuck…fuckin’ perfect for me, baby. Bein’ s-such a good…good girl,” he pants, and you bask in his praise, letting it fill you from the inside out.
The fingers he has wrapped around your throat inch up to your bitten, parted lips, and you open to accept three of them obediently, his pinkie and thumb clenched firmly around the lines of your jaw.
You wrap your tongue around the digits, saliva pooling in your mouth and dripping down your chin.
He’s so fucking much, and you want to give him everything.
“Say it, baby,” he growls, pressing the calloused pads of his fingers to the broad flat of your tongue. “Fuckin’ say it.”
You meet his fiery eyes in the mirror, brows knitted together in a question.
“Say it,” he repeats, the fingers not in your mouth digging into your jaw. Demanding it.
And like he’s impressing it upon your skin, burning it into your insides, you know what he wants to hear.
“‘M yours, Joel,” you whisper, words mangled by the way he pushes down on the wet muscle in your mouth. “Only yours.”
Dropping his other hand, he ghosts his fingertips over the slight bulge in your tummy, where his cock is nestled. The knowledge that you’re so full of him makes him quicken his rhythm, hips snapping against your ass ruthlessly. Giving you everything he has.
“Princess,” he whispers, nuzzling into your ear. “Gimme your hand.”
He traces up the soft lines of your arm, gently removing one of your hands from his curls, and pulls it down to feel the thick outline of his cock just beneath your belly. He keeps his hand over yours, and you press your own fingers into your flesh, in awe that you’ve taken the whole thing.
Every nerve in your body is a live wire, and you’re suddenly on the very precipice of your orgasm, his hand over yours being what pushes you over the edge.
Fingers still in your mouth, you drop your head back onto his shoulder, moaning around the shape of them, crying out, cunt strangling his already erratic movements as he races to catch up with you at the finish line.
It’s sloppy, saliva still dripping down your chin, your body cresting the wave of your orgasm, his stuttering movements fucking you all the way through it. You go limp as it washes through you, and he’s holding you up for the last few thrusts, growling into your ear and biting at your neck.
All-consuming.
Pulling his fingers from your mouth, he wraps both arms around you, holding you tightly against him, knowing that you really will melt if he lets you go. He can feel his own orgasm at the base of his spine, crawling up, up, up the column of it, until he’s there, spilling recklessly inside your swollen pussy, pushing himself further into you, making sure it stays.
He doesn’t need to tell you, because you already know.
The warmth of it shoots through his body, and it feels like heaven, buried to the hilt inside of you.
He runs his palms down your sides as you both come down, and even the slight touch makes you shiver. You prop yourself up on your arms again, the tips of your fingers numb from the earth-shattering orgasm.
A smile tugs at the corners of your mouth, satiated and soft.
Joel presses tender kisses across your shoulder blades, hands aimlessly drawing shapes into your plush hips, loathe to pull out of you.
But knowing he must, that his time with you is almost up, he does, drawing his hips back excruciatingly slowly, savoring every second of being inside of you, in whatever capacity. You hiss as he does, feeling so disappointingly empty and stretched open.
Gently caressing the globes of your ass, his palms fitting over them perfectly, he bends down to give you a final nip, laving his tongue over what he hopes will be a mark. You giggle warmly, hands meeting to pull the bodice of your dress back up over your tender breasts, while he pulls the length of it back down to your thighs.
Finally regaining the strength in your legs, you turn to face him, standing on the toes of your platforms to meet him in a kiss, him pulling your bottom lip between his own, sucking gently.
“Joel,” you mumble against him, his name an antidote to the poison of the longest week of your life.
“Baby,” he responds, encircling you with his arms, drawing you closer to him. Not wanting to let you go.
“We have to go” you whisper, pressing kisses across his jaw, his scruff pleasantly abrading your soft lips.
He grumbles an agreement, but doesn’t take his hands off of you.
“Keep my cum inside you,” is what he does say, after a millisecond of silence, as if it was burning his tongue. Like it needed to be said.
You giggle again, supplicant and sweet. Spun sugar on the tips of his fingers. Unwrapping yourself from his arms, you tug his boxers and jeans up, and his fingers fumble to help you. You let your hands wander up the plane of his chest while he clicks his belt into place, wondering how you’ll both fare this weekend.
“Can’t go that long again, princess,” he says, stroking the wild tangle of hair framing your face. “Need you.”
The admission nearly astonishes you. You’ve never seen Joel be so open, so vulnerable, so absolutely fucking wrecked.
“‘N…next time won’t be so…rushed. Wanna take my time with you.”
You believe him.
Hoping your action conveys that message, you press one final kiss to the heart-shaped space in his scruff, before turning to tame the locks of your hair and fix your smudged mascara in the mirror.
“You have my number, Joel.”
taglist: @jasminedragoon @loveisacowboyyy @scarletthefierce @thecasualnope
865 notes · View notes
hoy35 · 3 months
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Leshy seems like he has a statement to make.
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This is actually supposed to be a sequel to a piece of comic that I never got to finish... So my take is that during the time where there were still Gods to kill, Shamura would train their younger siblings and would send them on solo or duo missions with controllable danger. (I have several ideas under such premise, still working on them I swear.) However, one time a God would gave in their power to appeal to the shelter of a greater God just to bring the Bishops down. Heket was on the mission to kill the lesser God, unaware of the changing condition, and was almost killed by them (In the boss run, there are scars of unhealing wounds on her shoulder, my take is that she got them from other Gods, not Narinder. The same goes for Kallamar's eye scar) Shamura sensed the danger and forced their way in to rescue their sister and bring the two Gods down.
Still, Heket was guit-ridden and had nightmares. She would really loathe herself if she failed the mission and or even got Shamura killed. Shamura tried to calm her down by letting her listen to their heatbeat.
And my friend requested that Kallamar shall join them in cuddling. I am not ostracizing Narinder I swear! We just totally forgot about him! Sorry!
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Siblings' pasta time!
Kallamar: Get your own pasta!
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Ok this was inspired by how I kept on getting food resources even without the "money change into food" map buff. And suprisingly, I got cauliflowers, pumpkins, and berries from Silk Cradle; just pumpkins from both Anchordeep and Darkwood; and all four kinds of resources from Anura. It's as if the Bishops would save food for their siblings' visit, awww
I would like to amend that God tears are supposed to come from the great ones, but I drew this one quite early... You could think that Kallamar put the God tear there so as to preserve the pumpkins. (idk why)
Anyway, Heket gets to eat her share of the pumpkins after all! So it's a good ending! (Heket:...)
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Narinder, being a good big brother.
Leshy, being a good young God of Chaos.
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Cute Bishops round-up.
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Narinder, not being a good younger brother.
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Kallamar, being a big brother that everyone tortures.
I know I've been stuck to adding real-life zoology to fictional, humanized animals, yet Shamura is holding a bottle of milk. Actually this makes perfect sense because there is a type of spider that produces milk for younglings. So this does not break the rule! Hahahaha.
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To showcase, here's a guess of Heket's childhood. Real-life frogs are not quite intelligent. So at the beginning of her godhood, Heket would be limited to the intellectual level of a regular frog follower. But she could do well in harnessing her physical power (strong lil frog arms and legs) to learn combat moves and soon grasped fundamentals of her god power. The one thing she failed at was doing paperworks.
But she worked much, much harder than Kallamar and Narinder combined in learning, and made great progress along her ascension.
Shamura could see her diligence and loves all their siblings equally, the love is just displayed with different tactics. They would also provide words of wisdom to guide them, both with combat moves and mundane paperworks.
And of course, Heket eventually was just as smart as any other siblings.
141 notes · View notes
jacesvelaryons · 1 month
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Jacaerys Velaryon Previews
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Hey everyone! Wanted to give an update on the fic ideas I've got cooking so far, share my progress and build up excitement on what you'd like me to finish and publish first! (Don't worry I haven't forgotten my ongoing series and requests)
As always, please let me know what you think, I live for any interaction you give me, reblogs and comments who help me be encouraged to share this with everyone.
My requests remain open, and thank you for your patience.
masterlist
requests OPEN
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status: just came up with fic idea and made poster, after brainstorming with my muse @hxtd
summary/premise: y/n is feeling the effects of inflation as bills rise and tuition is due for school soon. good thing her friend jace, who happens to just be the grandson of the targaryen corporation chairman and hails from the richest family in existence. he promises to support her with no interest and due date to pay him back, other than to accompany him in return to events so they stop pestering him to find a girlfriend. rule number one? no feelings.
deals with mentions of the dark sides of sugaring, critically looking at sugaring, relying on rich men, nightlife, if you've seen baby (2019) on netflix
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status: poster, summary, brainstormed idea
summary/premise: reader is determined to get her husband back after the battle of the gullet. she uses magic to bring him back to life. he looks like jace, if you ignore the scars, and acts just like he did before, but it's slightly off. some horror elements if you squint.
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status: around 900~ words, sections written out of what to put, out of my fics the one most written already
summary/premise: like how Otto Hightower made his daughter wear her mother's old dresses to become the future queen, Y/N Celtigar hears of this and tries to see if the trick will still work for newly widowed Prince Jacaerys Velaryon after his late wife Baela passed in battle.
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status: poster, summary and idea
summary/premise: Inspired heavily by The Great as poster implies, Y/N Targaryen firmly believes in a prophecy her dear sister Helaena has shared one night, that she was meant for greatness, with a crown on her head as queen. enticed with grandeur for sketches and daydreaming of plans of how to improve westeros and rule, she knows her greatest shot to be queen is to get jace's fancy and convince her father the king and her mother the crown princess that there was no other option for his consort but her. no seduction at first, more teasing and brain games. smut to follow in later chapters if sequels turn the one shot to a series
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status: poster, summary, ideas
summary/premise: Reader was always the awkward one at King's Landing Academy, never fitting in, but Jacaerys Velaryon, heir to Targaryen Corp and descendant of one of the school's founders, never saw a reason to treat her otherwise. Until after one summer she shows up all glowed up, teenage features polished after puberty finally kicked in, and she learned how to do her hair, makeup and style herself to what suited her best. Now suddenly all the boys want her attention, and Jace ain't having it, knowing how superficial they were, and well, weren't there before she became the beauty standard.
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status: just the poster, idea and summary written up
summary: dealing with post partum mood swings and balancing wife of the heir duties, jacaerys being the most respectful husband and doting father never rushing you, just an angel, smut and all, just loving worship sex
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knightyoomyoui · 9 months
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Momo x M Reader - "Crazy Stupid Love"
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So this is one of my requests and probably the LONGEST one I had to grant because I just realized today that one of my readers made this request since November 2022, so I just want to say my huge apologies to you Dumbledore_1 for taking me too long to finally make this piece. This one-shot is a sequel to my Set 4 Momo x M Reader work titled "Somebody That I Used To Know" so if yall haven't read that one, better do so because you might not understand a little on what this story is about to tell and to give you guys a background from what happened to Momo and the reader's past, although I tackled the main point of this story clearly though. Lastly, I labeled this as only for male reader to feature because the first one also features only male reader, so it might be a weird for the female ones to read this. However, it's still up for my female readers there if you want to imagine yourself as a guy or for others to take place rather for this to aid your curiosities. Here's my Ko-fi account where you can drop your donations or ask for a commission. You can check it out on my Tumblr profile too!  Buy knightyoomyoui a Coffee. ko-fi.com/knightyoomyoui - Ko-fi ❤️ Where creators get support from fans through donations, memberships, shop sales and more! The original 'Buy Me a Coffee' Page. Enjoy reading and have a happy Christmas season, everyone!
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YN was shaken as the barrage of stomps and steps coming from the other passengers effectively woke him up. The bus had stopped moving, and he peeked from the window with squinted eyes. There he saw a very familiar view.
A smile crept up on his face, and he followed through the remaining people exiting the vehicle. Stepping out, he grabbed his bag and luggage before the bus left them there at the stop point.
YN started to walk while wandering his eyes around at the surroundings. It never changed, he thought. This is still one of the places where he could get use some time off away from every troubles he's having from the city.
And that being said, YN came here for one specific purpose. He wanted to stay in his province of Daegu for quite some time to help himself allow to recover from his heartbreak and improve his well-being for the better.
He has been disturbed day and night by what Momo revealed to him since their last talk, which was one month ago. It led him to the point where he needed to be delving deeply into reflection about the painful revelation she had brought to light. The next important person in his life to whom he has been closest, Dahyun, became aware of her cousin YN's odd conduct. She made one quick suggestion that she knew would assist her cousin, who is in a mess, knowing that he had recently ended a difficult and unpleasant relationship with Momo. She is a little upset at what her cousin did to her friend, but she still needs to show compassion and kindness for him because he is a loved one. She had always despised those who were internally disturbed by shattered hearts. She is thus making every effort to support Momo and YN during these challenging times. Aside from the fact that he genuinely misses their province, YN paid attention to what Dahyun advised her to do. He packed his belongings and traveled for hours to go to Daegu. His grandfather and other Dahyun's side relatives welcomed him when he got there. They greeted him with open arms upon his return, which undoubtedly helped YN feel at home. Then, after spending months there, he bought a house for himself, which his family allowed him to live in alone. During the months he had to stay apart from everything, he had the opportunity to experience living alone in the heart of such a vibrant and serene environment. even though at first he found it tough because he knew that being left alone is one of his worst fears.
Even so, he still tried to endure all the pain as he knew that he needed this for the sake of taking a rest for himself after what he'd gone through. There's been a saying that you will never heal from the pain if you never consider to give yourself a break.
Those created the thoughts that were unable for him to dodge all the memories that ties him back to his ex-girlfriend Momo. Because of her, it finally had him to slowly reprocess and understood everything wrong that thay had gone through in their relationship.
He had it discover pieces by pieces and he got some help coming from one of his interactions with some of the locals around his place, as he turned himself to be a volunteer to their town as a way to give himself things to distract him and make his time more valuable and less boring.
He walked back and got one for himself to begin eating with the locals, joining the elders, after serving some food to some of the kids seated at the table.
A notification beeped into his phone, causing it to open. He saw it for a second and turned it off, right before one of the elders asked him something.
"Who is that girl?"
He paused on directing his spoonful of food on his mouth as he heard the elder's question. He looked at him who has this curious look presented on him.
You opened the phone again and showed the rest your wallpaper that got seen, your own picture of Momo on the screen.
"Was that your partner?" His grandpa asked, tempting him to a frown on his lips.
He hesitated to answer for a while as he stared at Momo through the phone. Gulping his throat, he cleared his voice before speaking out his answer.
"She was mine."
All of them became quiet and his grandpa felt the sullen mood of his grandson. "Son, the world hasn't been very kind to both of you, hasn't it?"
He shook his head, denying the assumption. "I'm starting to think that it's not like that. It was only her, and i'm her world who didn't treated her well."
One of ahjumma (female elder) furrowed her eyebrows at his claim. "Did you do something wrong on her?"
"I did, ahjumma." He nodded his head, tightlipped at how guilty he was. "I broke her heart. I didn't mean to but I had to. I haven't got to explain it further."
"Was it that huge of an effect on her?" the first harabeoji (male elder) who asked him about Momo took the turn. He sipped on the soup and kept your head lowered.
"She erased my existence on her life, like she never met me." He smiled bitterly. His heart starts to get heavy, emotions were slowly rising up in his chest. "I guess she brought back the favor because I tried to get rid of her, to push her aside, to make her feel unwanted."
He received a slap on the shoulder by his own grandpa, earning a yelp of pain from him. "And how could you do that?! That's a wonderful girl you just had and you wasted it."
"Believe me, YN you've done a terrible mistake of inflicting heartbreak on that poor woman. Take me and your grandma as example. Even if we had many faults and fights in our relationship until she passed away, I never forgot her and I know so as she wherever she is right now.
And how did we do that? By making up to each other. Acknowledge what wrongful acts you have done. And I'm telling you, son; if you really loved that woman you won't let her be like that to you. Be sorry for everything that you did, understand?"
He nodded at his mixture of scolding and advice. "B-but, I'm afraid I might lure her away."
"She may not forget, but she may forgive you if you convincingly say everything from your heart."
The elders gasped and awwed when they saw a teardrop flowed out from his eye, he was so invested at the rant spoke by his grandpa that he didn't even noticed that his guilt urged his emotions to break loose.
"What's her name, son?"
"Hirai Momo." He noticed the slight amazement in his face. "She's Japanese."
"She's pretty, you got a foreign lover who surely looked up at you all the time not until you showed her the opposite." He expressed his dismay. "But I still feel sorry for you, son. Like what you said earlier, it seems like you got lost on the consequences of the stakes that was put upon you on your relationship with her."
"Do you still love her?"
He kept everything of his grandfather's advice in mind during the days that went by, including the last question that was posed to him and for which he is still unsure of the answer. He decided to give it some time for clarity even if there were some residual sentiments. He asked his cousin Dahyun, who is getting ready for their group schedule, a startling question during one of their video chats, even though Dahyun knew she would have it coming.
"Uhm... Dubu, is she there?"
"Who?"
"Momo."
"Yeah, but she went with Nayeon unnie on the cafeteria, why?"
"H- How is she doing, Dahyun-ah?" He questioned with a sorrowful tone.
Dahyun paused for a moment and just watched her cousin's misery displayed on the screen. She knew that until now he haven't gotten over her, but she didn't expected that he would spoke it out and make it known.
She knew YN to be very secretive of how he actually feels that's why she thought he would just rather do it through action, like what he did to Momo when he was loving her smoothly until the confusions took part.
But Dahyun isn't satisfied yet for that. She know that the two still haven't been getting along fine together and she hoped it'll come someday, and she believes that the only thing needed for that to happen is for her cousin to bravely show up and tell it all by himself to the woman he hurted the most.
"She's doing well, oppa. She's still laughing along with us... well we're trying to make her happy these days."
You nodded, relieved that Momo isn't suffering as much as you do today.
"But I don't know if it just because of us, because uhm... actually oppa- should I say it first to you?"
Dahyun's cautiousness grew an alarming tenseful feeling on him that is making him uncomfortable.
"Go ahead, i'll be fine." He said. Dahyun hoped the same. "Okay. Don't tell me you didn't let me be." Dahyun warned him one more time. "There's a guy who's courting Momo-unnie currently and based from how unnie is receiving his efforts, I think it's winning."
He heard enough and he became silent for a while. He knew it would be painful but he just let it sink in. He's the one who caused all of this to happen. It was all just a pure karma in return for him.
"Is that so?" He reacted bland. "That's great. I-I'm happy for the both of them in case... yeah." He smiled forcefully.
Dahyun clicked her tongue and sighed. "Oppa, you're hurting."
"As I should be."
The next days, his phase was on recollecting their memories together, in which he reminisce whenever he encounters something that Momo used to love before; he used to be in that place to witness it with his very own eyes.
Everywhere he goes, there's always one reason for him to remember her.
The kids he always entertain and taking care of. Momo loved children.
"Someday, if we will be lucky enough to get married. I want us to build a family with two kids! I hope we can have both a son and a daughter..."
The pig feet which was one of their foods for dinner. That is Momo's absolute favorite food she would be willing to die for.
"You should cook more jokbal, YN! This is so delicious!"
Their pictures together on his gallery that is almost full of her beautiful face. He opened one of the videos there which contains one of the clips they recorded during their anniversary.
He smiled as Momo kissed him on the lips and nuzzled her head on her neck. The next thing was soft and low, but her voice was always catchy for him to be able to hear it clearly.
This has to be the most anticipating turned devastating words you will ever remember from what she said.
Not only because this was like an oath for the goal to the next path he wanted to reach with her, but also because this will now end up instead in his  imagination to haunt him with his guilt and definitely hers to occur with her desires.
"To more anniversaries and hopefully, a wedding in the future with you, YN. I love you."
Lastly are the peaches in the farm where he helps some of the farmers there to harvest and the dogs from the neighborhood who randomly visits his house were the ones to sum up everything that ties him back to her.
And in his last days in the Daegu province, he has finally see and understand everything clearly.
Before he rode the bus, he looked back at his grandpa who guided him to the bus stop.
"Remember the question you asked me about, grandpa. If I still do... love her?"
"Have you found the answer?"
"I do." He smiled. "And I promise you that I will try to make her hear my apology to her once I return to Seoul."
"Great for you, then. I wish you good luck, son."
They hugged together before they parted ways, with YN focused on his way back to the destination where his objective lies ahead.
A month after his departure from the province, he is back at Seoul where he is now currently looking for a place to work with these days.
Dahyun notified him one day that they'll be celebrating Jihyo's successful solo debut and she wants to bring him there because the girls misses him.
Hesitant at first that he knew that out of nine of them, Momo is the only one who doesn't want to see her, but he instead accepted for the sake of seeing his friends and to celebrate her special day when Dahyun assured him that Momo isn't like that to him anymore.
YN and Dahyun arrived at the restaurant together. The girls saw them from the table and they all cheered, except for Momo who is sitting there in silent and avoiding his sight. He noticed it and felt a bit unease as he entertains the rest.
And there, the two ex-couple finally saw each other again after quite a long time. Awkward at first, they still managed to greet each other when YN tried to test his courage for his plan tonight. Thankfully, Momo greeted him back shyly.
They ordered, congratulated Jihyo again for her success, talked a lot about how they've been doing, and ate their respective delicious foods to savor the precious time they're having together as a group.
As they went to enjoy the night by doing some videoke and chugging beers, YN noticed that Momo went outside to freshen up.
"Dahyun." He called the woman sitting beside her, munching some pizza. "It's time. I'll be right back." He said as they gazed at Momo's back facing them through her stance at the railings of the balcony.
"Be careful, okay? Make it sentimental and don't force if she can't have it all too well."
"Got it."
Dahyun patted him on the back before he stood up and carefully opened the sliding doors. He silently stepped towards Momo's figure, breathing becoming heavy, heartbeat rising rapidly.
He let out one last sigh before he began to confront the woman he wanted to meet and talk after months of waiting, recovering, and changing.
"Momo?"
She heard that familiar voice, she remembered what she told him almost a year ago, prompting her to try not to slip off on her character.
"Now you're just somebody that I used to know, YN."
Turning her body around, she finally has come to face to face with the man she tries to completely forget in her heart and mind.
"Yes?" She responded. It was cold and plain, and YN understand what he's putting himself into. He just had to let it go and proceed with his main intention for her.
"I know you don't want having me near you, but c-can I please just... please have a short moment with you?" He said. "It won't last long, I promise but if you don't want me... then, it's fine but I really wanted to say something very quick to you."
Momo was startled when YN called for him. From the way he acted, Momo is quite intrigued that this version of YN infront of her is now more cautious, kind and soft to her. This is almost like... a different person from the one he used to know-and endure- before.
Momo would be deceiving herself and she knows how awful it is to feel regretful to herself if she lets that, if she doesn't admit to herself that it actually made her convince and push her wants to atleast see or know something of himself in personal.
"Don't waste any more time. Go on." She granted him his request. Crossing her arms, she leaned on the railings and watched this poor, broken, and lonely man she used to hate seeing being like this.
"T-Thank you." He bowed a little and straightened his posture, breathing deeply before he proceed to let out everything he's been keeping to his chest. "I know I shouldn't be in here because I know you're still mad at me. I almost didn't attend but for the girls-"
"For the record, I'm not mad at you anymore." Momo seriously said. "I set it all aside, because like I said... I don't want nothing to do with you. You're a nobody to me now, but I'm just letting you for once as long as you prove what brought youself here with me and dare to come close with me after how we ended things together."
"I know about that, and that's why I'm just here to say one thing that I've never ever said to you.
I'm sorry."
Momo's eyes shut, biting her lip with her fist clenching after hearing that. "I'm sorry for everything. All I did was very wrong of me and I don't want you to force you to believe me but... I didn't intended to do that on you.
"I did love you from the first time I laid my eyes on you, to the time you gave back the same feelings as mine for you, and the beginning of our relationship together. I know I have been gotten cold to you as time passes but I want to clarify things that... it wasn't your fault at all, Momo. It was me."
Momo glared at him with a teary eyes. She hated it, but she had to recall all of the times she had to wonder every night why does this keep on happening and what did she do wrong that made him treat him with lack of affection. She wanted answers for a long time and gladly, the time has come for her to hear it straight away from the man responsible of putting her like that.
"I always wanted to be like you, on what you're doing for me and it's true. But I always look at myself lowly, thinking if what I'm doing rather wasn't enough for you." His voice began to crack, as his eyes became to get watery also from the immense emotions affecting him. "And instead of improving or sharing my worries to you, I chose rather to set you free from me. I did that, thinking it was for mercy but instead it looked like I wanted you to suffer more and it was so... so wrong for me to do so. I became so lost for that."
"I still love you up to this day, Momo."  With that, both synchronizably cried from that words that they used to say to each other as a vow but now, it turns out to be a forbidden phrase for them to exchange anymore.  "It's not that I didn't trust you it's just that... I was scared."
"My plead for you not to leave was true, I truly can't bear letting you go. But now, I think I believe that probably I deserve to be alone and unworthy of somebody's love to hold onto because what I did, I am willing to sacrifice my feelings for you, Momo."
"It hurts me so bad but I have to let you go now." He escaped a rough exhale before continuing. "I'm not going to plead for you to come back and ruin the happiness your getting with somebody else now. Again, I'm truly sorry again for rushing in our relationship, acting immature on times you needed my comfort and making you bring all the burden you never deserved to have to."
YN began to drop on his knees and positioned himself to kneel in front of Momo who was shocked at his action.
"YN! W-what are you doing, get up from there!" She dashed through him and lifted his body and in YN's disbelief, he made Momo envelope him into a longing and comforting embrace that belongs to one of the lovely things he wasted from an gracious woman like her.
They both sobbed in their own heartache and sympathized with their own struggles.
"I hate you for what you did to me YN but why!" Momo cried out. "Why did you kept it to yourself, huh?! Why did you let yourself struggling on your own?"
"You promised me that you'll try to be honest, but you didn't, and that made me think that being done with your fake love, I rather be going. You could've shared it all to me directly, I'm your girlfriend for god's sake, I could've helped you because I loved you!"
"I'm sorry.. I'm s-so sorry..."
Momo whined and screamed in a mixture of frustration, agony and disappointment for what their relationship had become and the complete clear revelations of how she got ended up suffocating and unpleased in his company.
"Get up." She helped him stand back to his wobbling weak legs again. "Finally you were now able to reflect yourself and tell to me that one words I just wanted to hear from you. I just wanted you to be accountable and say sorry to me.", Momo said, clarifying the last words she told to him back then.
"But now that you did and I've heard and seen enough your sincerity..." She grasped him in the shoulders and stared at him with a broken smile. "I forgive you, YN."
He nodded and cried again, finally getting the remorse and acceptance that he's been yearning and searching for months after realizing what he's done. "Thank you. I'm sorry again, Momo."
"That'll be your last, it's fine now." Momo warned him as he fixed his messy hair and wiped away his tears.
"I just have one more question to ask."
"What is it?"
"Have I... been a nice girlfriend to you?"
He stared at Momo's awaiting, curious and softened face. A teardrop flowed for one final time, to drain out every bit of pain he consumed.
He grabbed the back of her neck and gently pulled her close to land a tender kiss on her forehead. "You did more than enough for me, Momo. You're a great woman that I wasted the unconditional love you've been giving by being ungrateful and selfish, and I will forever bring that regret with me."
Momo timidly smiled for him and stepped away from his contact. Wanting to end this emotional moment between each other to avoid ruining the fun night, she came up something to talk with. "I know you have quite shared this with the girls earlier but I just wanted to know myself, how have you been doing these days?"
"I'm good, I'm still on my road to improve myself. I couldn't stand to let others see and continue to be the same guy that you used to encounter." He finally flashed the first bright smile for Momo away from their problems. Momo was proud and touched for his efforts and dedication that she implemented on him. "And you?"
"I'm happy. Even happier now that we've settled things peacefully."
"I've heard from Dahyun that there's this guy who's been seeing you these days, huh. How is he doing for you?"
Momo was taken back that he had to learn about that and mention it. "H-He's fine, but I want to make it clear to him that I don't want to be in a relationship yet." she shyly said.
"How about you? Will you be okay? Are you... gonna look for somebody to have an interest with?" Momo wondered.
"No, I don't think I will." He stated. "I'm not scared, I just want to be careful. I think it's better for me not to engage in this romance thing anymore, you know? I have learnt from my mistakes now." She understood and didn't spoke any further despite still having this pint of pity for the fallen man.
"And... why should I look for other, when you're still the one I choose?"
Momo stared at him, she blushed  and uncontrollably smiled in an embarassed way after hearing that glimpse of the charming YN that never disappeared from him.
She spreaded her arms wholesomely and looked at her with a smile.
"I know I've said that I wanted to disregard your existence but... I didn't want to be cruel now that I've heard your side and I'm sorry for that because I have to admit...
Although you broke my heart, I still couldn't deny the truth that you're one of the most important person I've met and the first man who helped me explore how love could led us into elsewhere.
You still made me happy, YN. I can't just have it easy to throw you out of my life so... should we be friends again?"
He listened to her patiently and it was overwhelming in the end. "I don't deserve this at all, but I'm highly grateful to take it, Momo. Let's start fresh again." He shook his head and smiled.
You accepted her hug one more time and both took time to indulge how great it must felt've again to their part that they don't have to try pretend, carry a hatred, and keep their unspoken troubles for theirselves.
They are now freed from their own personal chaos and has now created a clean slate of their closeness and connection to each other.
They returned back together where they are approached by the girls who've been watching their melancholic yet heartfelt moment they shared in which they paused their fun to express their happiness for their friends on burying the hatchet between each other.
Both learning that they are currently happy with their own lives and has finally washed away their conflict, they realized that somehow helped each other to realize that maybe having a crazy stupid love with somebody was never really required to be happy and contented in life.
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