#also to refer to your other ask you did not come off rude at all! personally the humorous tone came through to me 🤍 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

darkdevasofdestruction · 2 years ago

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Honey, I’m Home! ~ Alhaitham x Liyue!Reader

“Girlfriend?! You?!” Kaveh’s face showed nothing but utmost shock. “I don’t believe a word you say! Nobody would! I mean -- You?! There’s no way any sane woman would stay around you!” “I am not one to respond to baseless provokation, however, I have to point out that you directly insulted my partner intellect and mental well-being, to which I cannot remain silent - Though, I suppose you are intoxicated and there’s little I should care about. No word coming out of your mouth is ever worth taking into account to begin with.” Alhaitham, much to his mate’s irritation, didn’t even raise his gaze from the book he was reading. “Hey, you--! You’re SO insufferable!” the poor architect growled in anger. “Since when? You never told me about her, and we’ve known each other for enough years! You’d have let it slip somehow - Or, at least, your arrogance would’ve!” “Your impression on my personality has nothing to do with any kind of potential slip you think I might have had. As a matter of fact, the existence of a significant other had never been a secret to begin with. You just never asked, therefore, I had no reason to go out of my way and brag about my perfectly accomplished life, considering not only your living conditions, but your infinitely tragic luck. I did not want to bother with you crying again, out of nowhere.” Kaveh threw a random book at his mate’s head, which annoyingly enough, he masterfully caught without as much as blinking. “GAHH, I HATE YOU SO MUCH!” the man whined, slamming his face into the table. “FINE! TELL ME! ENLIGHTEN ME! WHO IS THIS MYSTERY WOMAN THAT MANAGED TO IGNORE THE INFINITE AMOUNT OF NEGATIVE TRAITS AND THAT STUPIDLY ARROGANT AND UNAPPROACHABLE FACE OF YOURS?! IS SHE BLIND?!” “There is nothing wrong with her eye function. In fact, she often compliments my appearance.” the scribe pointed out. “We have been together since a year before we presented our graduation thesis.” poor Kaveh spit out the beer he was drinking. “HOW LONG?!” he was absolutely convinced he was lying. “There’s NO way that is, in any way, true!” “If you don’t believe me, there are plenty ways to search for proof on your own. The only thing I would have to warn you about is not to use your usual barbaric ways of speaking to her, if you manage to find her. You will scare her away.” Kaveh couldn’t help but glare at Alhaitham, though, considering the amount of unceremonious yelling he just did, he couldn’t refute much. “Fine, whatever - Tell me about her. How you met. Something. Anything relevant. I’ll see after if I believe you.” Alhaitham had to fight the smirk off his face as he hummed in amusement - It was so easy to get a rise out of this fool. “Y/N is originally from Liyue, although you can say, after finishing her Amurta course and graduated, she would spend about half a year back home to take care of her family and help with the medicine aspect of the country.” Kaveh’s eyes suddenly shot open and he gasped. “Hold up! Is this the Liyue friend that Tighnari mentioned? They were in the same Darshan and -- They worked on their thesis together a lot and -- And Cyno too, on enough occasions -- Is that her?!” Alhaitham shrugged his shoulders, though he knew it was the truth. There were a lot of references that one must use in the bibliography, and the practical percentage of her thesis she did on the comparison of Fauna and Flora from Sumeru and Liyue was done for the most part with Tighnari. Y/N often mentioned the fennec boy being her only friend for the many years she in Akademiya.

Alhaitham knew, no matter how nice of a person you were, if you had a unique brilliance, the common flock of mindless sheep were bound to be rude to you. He was no stranger to the endless amount of insults he received from many, although, in almost the same ponder, he also had many more compliments of all kind, be that on his intelligence, on his work, or... His looks especially. Tighnari and Cyno were no strangers to this kind of treatment, but at least they had each other - For the most part.

Back then, having a new student, from another country no less - A country with a rich history, though not as much focus on studies as Sumeru - A new student that, through thorough examination, was able to start her Amurta studies not from the first year, but skipped about a half of the years required to graduate.

From the get-go, Y/N was a bit of an odd one, and the students of Akademiya were no less lenient with her, nor did they bother teaching her about cultural differences and what not. Alhaitham, too, noticed something strange, but it was different from everyone else. Was it that he never heard her speak, even once? Or that, were it not for the amount of gossips and bullying he witnessed, she’d have been walking the halls of the House of Daena like an invisible ghost, unseen, unwanted, unneeded by all around her?

Or, perhaps, it was that there was a large amount of books that she was reading - Manuals, text-books, works, thesis of all kind, from different Darshan courses even - And for the most time, she’d read them all outside, in the forest, far away from the Akademiya; As far away as possible, if need be.

And despite the awful treatment she received, and the amount of diligent hard-work she was putting into her courses, she never seemed to frown or let things affect her. She wasn’t smiling either, and her tiredness was showing - Still, it almost looked endearing; A brilliant woman, so effortlessly beautiful and graceful in everything she did, wearing a passive, demure smile on her face, even if none wanted to appreciate it.

Were all women from Liyue like this, he wondered? Most Sumeru women he had the displeasure of conversing with were so obnoxious and emotion-driven; Oft times, he even wondered if the inspector examining them did his job well enough, because he himself could see no ounce of anything clever in their bleak, dark minds of theirs. No that the men were any different, but they had the courtesy of avoiding him like the plague, to which, Alhaitham was grateful. He never cared for idle chatting for no reason.

Hence why, he needed to concoct a proper conversation reason, otherwise, there would be no sense to start speaking with the new student.

Luck had always favoured him for some reason, and instead of wasting his time with needless research, it was Y/N herself who came over to him. She nodded her head at him as a courtesy greeting, and introduced herself as Y/N from the Amurta class. She explained that, although her thesis was based on biology, she had plenty of interests in many other areas, and having heard him as the most remarkable student from Haravatat, it was a no brainer that she’d come to him requesting aid for some book and course recommandations.

Though his reply was a simple yet positive one, informing her that, once he gathers some time, he will see what he could do, she offered him a grateful, princess-like smile, and this time, a brief courtesy, before leaving. For a split second, Alhaitham had to wonder if this Y/N had any amount of noble blood in her lineage - No woman could act so perfectly elegant all the time without some proper training from before you even begin breathing into this world.

Regardless, Alhaitham found himself completely abandoning his work for a whole day in search of accommodating Y/N, and when he searched for her with the piles of books he had for her, all of them old, dusty and tattered, she was outside, under a tree, reading a story to a little fox. Such odd behaviour - Though the fox seemed to enjoy it, as it was purring in her lap as it was being stroked. It was quite the sight for sore eyes, he had to admit.

“Ah, so fast, you needn’t! You are far too kind - There is no way to repay you for your kindness. Allow me to treat you to some tea and a meal tomorrow, please.” Alhaitham shook his head, sitting down next to her. “There are few people actually interested in proper research and academics. If someone came to me, willing to learn, there is no reason why I should decline.” he answered simply. “I do not require any reward. Simply put, I did it because I wanted to. However, if you want to repay me, then tell me - Why do you read so many books, when a lot of pointed information can be found out by simply asking through the Akasha terminal.” Y/N smiled at him enigmatically. “That is a question to which I cannot provide an answer. Not because I am unwilling to disclose the information - In fact, it’s quite silly, rather. The reason behind my silence is that... Due to this device you are wearing, if there is anything that I tell you, whether you wish to share this information with anyone or not, the whole network of people using the Akasha device are going to know, by simply asking. The people wearing this device cannot control the information they disclose - It is actually quite frightening, I might say.” Alhaitham’s jade-like green eyes peered deep into her own; They were so gentle and warm, almost resembling those of a fawn, yet even he could discern the tint of sorrow and loneliness pooling behind them. “You almost sound like a criminal speaking like that.” at the faintest hint of a crystalline chuckle, Alhaitham’s heart skipped a beat - Just one, of course, he simply wasn’t expecting such a sound as a response to his words. Was there something amusing in what he said. “Well, I suppose, considering nobody taught me the laws of Sumeru, there is little I can say to refute such a statement. Who knows, perhaps, in my ignorance, I might have managed to stray away from the right path. Regardless, what I can say is - I am forced by conjuctures to personally gather the information I am seeking. Whatever you wish to do with that information, it is up for your own interpretation, and I am unable to either approve or disprove it.” the man couldn’t help but scoff a little, though he came up with an answer easily.

Somehow, this pretty little princess was just about as much of a fairy as he was, and she, for some reason, managed to trick her way into not wearing a Terminal - Or she made it malfunction. Either way, it would make perfect sense.

“Fascinating as it is to guess, I am no philosopher, I am a researcher who bases his work on the factual, not on stories. I will not lose time coming to an uncertain conclusion.” for some reason, his words made the woman next to him chuckle again, for the second time in less than half an hour. Interesting. “Then, may I be so bold as to ask for your aid again, should I require again some kind of help oh some kind?” the woman asked, seeing as he got up, picking up the large pile of books, yet he seemed to have no intention of handing them other. “If the time allows me to take a detour from my work, then I suppose I see no reason not to help.” he answered briefly. As Y/N stepped in front of him, placing her hands over his own, in an attempt to burden the heavy weight of knowledge, he simply stepped past her. “Just show me where to get them. You may be ignorant of Sumeru’s own law code, but I doubt you would be foolish enough to ignore the laws of physics and even delude yourself that you could carry them yourself and reach home without as much as one of them at least being damaged.” he spoke, walking ahead.

Y/N couldn’t help but blink in surprise at the rather adorable and gentlemanly reaction of the otherwise stoic in inabordable man, however, she couldn’t help but smile in amusement, catching up to his pace and leading the way. “Judging by your your looks, there is no way you weight more than these books, therefore, given their mass, Newton’s law says that an object can only move another if its mass is greater. A single kilogram equals to exactly 9,81 Newtons. With this knowledge, we have to exchange the parameters with actual numbers, in the Law of Force, which says that Force equals the multiplying of the mass and acceleration of said object; And since acceleration is measured in meters per square second --” he continued ranting on and on about the laws of physics and the approximates he took, only to feel a hand powerfully slap the bottom of the book stack, making them all fly aimlessly in the sky - And be caught with the aid of Y/N’s Dendro vision powers. Y/N was smiling like an innocent child, though, with the way she was fighting back a smirk, it only made her look like a playful, mischievous vixen. “Alhaitham --” she said, a hand covering her smirking mouth. “Has anyone ever told you how adorable you are when you’re rambling with no sense?” the man couldn’t help but be rooted to the spot, completely unresponsive.

What did she mean? Him, ranting idly, for no apparent reason whatsoever? That was completely unlike him - Surely, she must be mistaken - He was trying to educate her; There is reason in everything he says. “Come along, I recently brought over some fantastic bamboo dew tea -- Oh, and I suppose, if you’re interested, I have some sweet Osmanthus wine also, the finest batch. Mr. Zhongli himself vouched for the quality, and there’s no other like him, a true connoisseur in everything fine.” with a delicate hand wrapped gently around his wrist, Y/N guided the speechless man toward her home - A pretty, tall house made out of wood, vines and leaves of all kinds, all of it, carved inside a grand tree. With a wave of her other hand, she created a staircase out of liana, allowing them to get up to the top-most part of her house, where her library was. “It isn’t much, but I hope you feel comfortable enough during your stay.” still, Alhaitham couldn’t utter another word as he went to sit down on the couch. Though he couldn’t help himself and analysed every inch of the chamber, he could still faintly feel the slight rise in his cheeks’ temperature, biological and physiological truth which irked him greatly, as it gave away the speed with which his heart beat, and, consequently, the fact that, despite his ration-based life, he was somehow able to be weak before the effortless charms of a woman like Y/N, who made him act like a fool.

But unlike him, Y/N seemed to be his own personal anti-thesis; Y/N seemed so calm and friendly, so warm and with just the right amount of conversation lines that didn’t border on the obnoxious type of talkative. In fact, Alhaitham might even have to admit, he didn’t mind the sound of her voice, in fact, he might as well admit that he found it rather pleasant to his ears. In only she’d know the stimulant effect her presence alone has on his heart’s rhythm, as though someone had secretly injected him with adrenaline... There must be something to be done about this.

As he asked her about her thesis, he swore, he could see sparkles in her eyes - Her infinite amount of love and dedication for the flora and fauna of both countries was insurmountable - Y/N was writing her thesis out of passion of the living beings, not necessarily out of sheer interest in research, though everything that she’s assimilated clearly set her on the right path. In must have been some kind of miracle that his plan on working on a thesis with that good for nothing Kaveh from Kshahrewar; Simply, he erased his name from it, and moved on to a singular part of the research, though he had to admit, the environmental conditions weren’t the brightest - The subject, at least, was highly fascinating.

“Would you be interested in writing a project together?” he found himself asking all of a sudden. “A senior had previously proposed a thesis subject that interested me, alas, due to differences of opinions and views, the project fell through. The topic of my half of the thesis was the decoding of the ancient runes from the Ruins of King Deshret's Civilization.” “That does sound like quite the intriguing thesis, and I have to admit, I would also be interested in researching the history of the old civilization... But I’m not used to the harsh environment of the desert, I... Am not sure I would be a proper asset to the team.” Alhaitham hummed in understanding - Even Sumeru people had a hard time dealing with the desert, and knowing the landscapes and the weather from Liyue, he could see the reason behind her reticence. Still, he was passionate not only about this project, but about spending quality time with the woman before him, doing what they know best to do - Study. “As long as you’re willing to join the project, I can deal with accommodating you during the practical field research, as I’m more familiar with the country.” despite her skepticism, Y/N couldn’t help but accept, completely uncaring about any risk whatsoever. As long as she was able to spend time with the man in front of her, everything was going to be fine. “Alright, Alhaitham. Let’s make the most outstanding project the Akademiya has ever seen.” her positive outlook was a rather welcome change of pace, unlike Kaveh and his constant wish to either bicker with him, or complain.

For the rest of the years it took for both Alhaitham and Y/N to graduate, they went on a vast number of adventures - Considering the amount of time it took for them to reach the graduation, it was only fair that they extend their thesis for three major regions - Deshret’s desert area, Greater Lord Rukkhadevata’s Sumeru forests and Rex Lapis’ Liyue - Each of them, with their own distinct and fascinating manuscripts, writing styles, flora, fauna and civilizations that have been rapidly evolving throughout the years. Their project ended up truly being one worthy of envy, but not without merit.

The amount of times they got lost in the desert or had to fight mercenaries and treasure hoarders, got trapped inside pyramids, ruins and underground catacombs, had to solve puzzles and decipher codes, decode runes and languages lost to time, found relics and fossils, cave paintings and old manuscripts describing never-seen and never-heard before wildlife from all over the two countries.

“Are we ever going to find a way out of this mess of a tomb? I feel like a grave-robber that’s about to lose her sanity from the lack of food and water.” Y/N dramatically joked as she used her vines to propel herself up to some suspended platforms and activate some intricate mechanism that was going to open up the door - Hopefully, at least. “We haven’t done all this for all our work to be thrown down the drain.” as the door opened, he readied his sword to attack the activating perpetual robotic monsters, and together, they would fight - Yet Alhaitham especially felt a sense of protectiveness over Y/N - Whether it was over the fact that he’s practically responsible for her life, as he got her into the project... Or perhaps it was the fact that he feared anything happened to her. She was a talented healer, and she often used her vision power to shield him from imminent danger or mend some of the wounds he got from direct confrontation against multiple enemies that came in waves at once.

Though they had lots of practical field trips that involved a ton of travelling, the simpler parts of theoretical research was often done in far calmer environments, be it either of their homes, or a neutral place, namely the popular tea house, so they could also catch a bite. Unfortunately, Puspa cafe often hosted a ton of Akademiya students, and that more often than not meant some of their own classmates, that due to exceeding envy, ended up ruining their pleasant leisure time. Just like that one time when a junior from his own Darshan of Haravatat came over to their table - Masterfully and tactically chosen to be the farther-most, retreated from the majority of the people and in a corner away from the prying eyes - And put her hands on her hips, frowning down at them.

“What are you doing here?!” the stranger asked in a rather irritated voice, yet neither of the two even bothered raising their gaze and acknowledge her presence. “Hey - Don’t ignore me, you -- Gosh, you’re so rude.” still, no answer. “Alhaitham~! Why do you waste your time around such a boring woman? She’s no good, y’know? You don’t need to help her with her studies - She’s a plant lover from Amurta - Nowhere near our above-brilliant Haravatat intellect!” the girl whined, hoping to get the man’s attention, yet once again, she was met with no response. Infuriated, the girl threw herself on the couch next to him, clinging onto his arm and cuddling on his side. “Alhaitham~! You are my senior! You promised to help me with research. In fact - Let’s do our thesis together!” Much to her indignance, the stranger was shrugged off the sofa, and received an irked glare. “I have no idea who you are, nor am I interested in your identity, but I would like for you to stop bothering our study session, otherwise I will be forced to ask the patron to kick you out of the cafe for disturbing other customers.” the flabbergast expression on her face would have been amusing, were it not for her disgusting hostility. “Wait, no -- You can’t do that, I -- Alhaitham, don’t you remember me? I’m your Junior, Emiya! You gave me a book about deciphering ancient texts a month ago, remember?” she tried to plead, but was met with a firm, negative reply. “And you -- You have to stop parasiting him already! Do your own work, for once! Can’t you see you’re inconveniencing him?!” Y/N said nothing. “Say something!” “The Phoenix does not lose sleep over the idle chattering of mice.” Emiya’s eyes widened in complete confusion, though Alhaitham couldn’t help but let out a breath of amusement. She fancied herself an Empress, how lovely. “Wh-What?! You make no sense -- Hey, you’re in Sumeru, not in Liyue anymore, y’know? Get it right already.” for the first time, Y/N rose her gaze to meet Emiya’s; the junior shuddered slightly, realising the cold passiveness of her intimidating demeanour. “I don’t know what kind of delusions you like to feed yourself, but I would ask you to leave our table, unless you wish to get permanently banned from Puspa. I would like to return to the research I was doing for our thesis, until you so rudely interrupted our tireless work. Unlike you, we are not so carefree and leisurely.” Y/N curt voice had a frozen edge, intimidating the girl. “Well, whatever! Go back to your stupid grass work. Alhaitham and I have more intelligent research to conduct - And some practical research, perhaps?” Y/N had to turn her head slightly to the side, demurely hiding her mocking chuckle. “I believe it unethical, stealing one’s project partner. Alas, willow blossoms go in dreams, only to find sorrows hidden on the moon.” Emiya’s eyes were wide, and her jaw to the floor - Her mind had gone numb from stupidity. “You pride yourself with being a Haravatat student, yet you fail to comprehend even the most forward of poems. I have no intention of associating myself with mediocre people.” Alhaitham dismissed the tearing up girl with a bored wave of his hand; Y/N and him had to look away from each other to avoid chuckling, “So... I actually found this interesting Zaytun Peach wine recipe -- And I have some Glaze Lily flowers and Sweet Flower to make tea - I’ve got this snow kept for special occasions - I find tea made out of melted snow to have the richest aroma.” Y/N said, disclosing the contents of the book she was reading; The farthest away from being a research-based book. “The history of the Guili plains and the Guizhong ballista are also rather intriguing. I would be interested in finding out the blueprints and the thought concept behind it and its making.” he hummed in acknowledgement, enjoying reading about the past of Liyue and what similarities and differences exist between it and Sumeru. “Do we have any more of that special delivery Dandelion Wine from Angel’s Share?” “Of course! Master Diluc just recently had a few bottles delivered to me through his brother Kaeya, who was on an errand here in Sumeru. He didn’t stay long for catching up, but he brought the goods, so it’s fine either way.” with a shared look, the two got up and moved their leisure reading back to Y/N’s home, delighting themselves with the most quality wine that Teyvat had to offer. “That’s a fine deal.”

At some point, just a year before their graduation, Alhaitham was going to purchase some alcohol to celebrate a massive breakthrough he had in his research - And consequently, escaping yet another death-nearing experience - His ex-project partner, the senior architect student from Kshahrewar, spotted him. This blond man with a volcanic personality ended up shredding his joined thesis in a fit of frustrating rage, only to end up gluing back together out of regret, once he ended up all alone, bankrupt, and realising his once friend’s harsh words were actually viable advices that he should have heeded long ago.

There was no reproach in his words - Alhaitham had nothing to gain out of making Kaveh feel even more humiliated by his own failures, brought upon him mostly by his overly empathetic nature. He had to admit, bit of this precious and rather naive selflessness he could very often see in Y/N, which only made him feel more afraid that there might be some brainless deadbeats upsetting her or taking advantage of her benevolence.

Still, interestingly enough, after getting drunk enough to spill out all of his grievances, Kaveh found himself speaking of some rather interesting rumours. “Ever heard of the flower fairy rumour?” he asked. “They say once a month, at midnight, there’s this mystical being, beautiful as no other woman, and she dances on the sheen of the lake.” “You don’t seriously believe such ridiculous children stories, do you?” Alhaitham scoffed, raising the beer bottle and drinking a bit, yet his eyes never once left the blond. “I believe it more than the Wisdom Seelie, the children of the forest or the Aranara.” the architect grumbled. “How ridiculous.” still, he couldn’t admit, Alhaitham had his own suspicions on who this might be, and his professional curiosity had him want to come to a concludent answer. “Honestly, if that flower fairy is real, she might be the only living being capable of liking someone as arrogant and insufferable as you. No human woman could ever stand you.” Kaveh hiccuped as he sneered at his refound friend. Such a proposition sounded so much like a challenge, that Alhaitham found himself internally accepting.

Thus, every night for a whole month, Alhaitham hid behind a tree and investigated the lake area for any signs of this supposed fairy - And finally, his hard work came to fruition. From the direction of Y/N’s home, followed by an array of forest animals, the glowing silhouette of a gorgeous woman playing a sorrowful tune on the flute piqued his attention. Indeed, it was Y/N, just as he suspected, yet now he could see why she would be mistaken for a fairy. Wherever her barefeet would step, flowers would grow. Her long, light pink dress, flowy and embroidered with the finest gold thread, made her look like a lotus bloom. Her long hair of the most beautiful shade was embellished with royal-looking jewellery, and even her make up, so soft and delicate, yet so feminine, made her face look prettier than the moon itself.

Placing the flute inside her sleeve, Y/N stepped on the mirror sheen of the lake that seemed to sparkle with zircons from the silver light of the celestial body up on the dark night sky, and accompanied by what no doubt was an old Liyue melody, Y/N performed a dance, so enticing, so fluid, like a willow tree in the gentle breeze of spring. Every move she made, every little twitch and tweak of her joint, her body, all of them were perfectly calculated, even the amount of green dendro magic that made her performance even more alluring and worthy of being mistaken with a fictional mythical being.

By the time she was done, Alhaitham was leaning back on a tree, applauding. From the shock of being discovered, Y/N’s cheeks flared red with warmth and embarrassment. “Of course it had to be you who would find me out.” “It was actually a senior of mine who mentioned the rumours of this supposed flower fairy. I had my suspicions, and I felt compelled to have them approved or denied.” the corner of his mouth slightly twitched upwards in a smug smirk. “It seems my intuition hasn’t failed me yet.” “Tian na!” Y/N found herself softly shaking her head, a gorgeous smile gracing her features as she stepped on the soft grass next to him. “Fate sure has the weirdest ways of bringing people together.” Alhaitham found himself scoffing in distaste at the sheer notion of destiny. “Don’t use such foolish words. We are humans, and we create our of path in life. It is our actions and choices that define us, not the biblical or religious concept of a life already chosen and woven for you since before you are conceived and brought into this wor--” before he could continue rambling on about his own views on fate, Y/N reached up to pick his chin, bringing him down to her level, and with one hand on his shoulder to lean up, she captured his soft lips into a kiss that left him speechless from surprise. “For years we have been friends, yet I cannot tire of how adorable you are when you’re so flustered that you end up ranting over the weirdest things.” Alhaitham wanted to scold her for doing something so uncharacteristic and unexpected, wanted to refute her claim of him ranting over ‘weird’ things - Or simply, the idea of him ‘ranting’ was ridiculous - Somehow, instead of all that, his body moved on his own and his brain took a short break, and the otherwise stoic man found himself cradling dearly Y/N’s form in his strong arms and sharing a much more loving and intimate kiss that seemed to allow the river of emotions to flow and come undone and expose itself in all its glory and vulnerability.

“You are bulshitting me because I’m drunk.” Kaveh growled at his friend. “You just randomly remembered those stupid rumours about the fairy thing and use that against me.” “I already told you, it’s not my job proving to you that I’m speaking the truth.” Alhaitham simply took another gulp of his beer. “But you said the fairy was just a stupid joke! And you never mentioned working on a thesis with someone else! Or having a friend, let alone a girlfriend! Hell, I thought nobody liked you! I still do!” the architect pointed an accusatory finger in his face. “I refuse to bother replying to your ridiculous disbeliefs anymore.” the scribe huffed, ready to take out his headphones and tune out the noise pollution that Kaveh was providing. “HEY, DON’T IGNORE ME! GIVE ME ANSWERS! I DON’T BELIEVE THAT STUPID STORY--” just as Kaveh shot up to his feet, slamming his hands onto the table, the front door was opened, and a beautiful woman entered the living room. “Honey, I’m home~!” her crystalline voice chimed, making Alhaitham smirk smugly and putting back his headphones in his belt pouch. “I brought some Osmanthus wine and moon cakes!” Kaveh’s eyes bulged out of their orbit and his jaw was to the floor, watching the beautiful woman plop down on the couch next to his friend and sharing such a tender kiss with him. “Oh - You must be Kaveh! I heard so much about you! I’m Y/N. Alhaitham’s fiance. I came to Sumeru from Liyue and enrolled in the Amurta Darshan course and graduated with a joined thesis written with him.” “F-F-Fi... Fi... Ance...?!” the blond fell back on his seat. “I-I thought you said... Girlfriend...” “I actually used the word ‘partner’, to be precise. You simply assumed, and I didn’t bother correcting you. If I were to correct every wrong supposition you’ve had since we’ve met... Well, I have better things to do with my time.” Alhaitham declared, his arm around Y/N’s waist, pulling her subtly to lean on his side, planting a kiss on her temple, purposely annoying his friend. “S-So... You mean... She -- And the Fairy -- And Tighnari’s friend -- And your Thesis partner -- They’re all the same person?!” the crestfallen expression on his face only made the beautiful lady hum in amusement. “Yes, I suppose that is me - I should thank you for the nickname - I think being called a Flower Fairy is highly flattering. Here is my gratitude.” with a graceful swish of her hand, Y/N created a flower crown on the architect’s hair. “...You may be lovely, but I swear, you almost have the same kind of mocking cruelty as he does, hidden behind a pretty smile.” Kaveh groaned, getting up and stumbling towards the other chamber, where his bedroom was. “HEY, HOLD UP! IF YOU’VE BEEN TOGETHER FOR SO MANY YEARS, WHY HAVE I NEVER SEEN YOU OVER?!” “No thirds wheels allowed on our dates.” seeing that annoyingly taunting smirk, and the implication behind those words, Kaveh let out another frustrated groan and shot into his room, not wanting to see either of the two anymore. “Perfect timing as always.” Alhaitham praised, pulling Y/N onto his lap. “Yes, well, I have to admit, I was getting cold out there, leaning on the door and waiting for you to finish that story already. Regardless... I think it’s adorable that Kaveh didn’t pick up that the reason you were so intrigued to continue speaking to me was because I fooled the Akademiya not to wear that Akasha device.” Y/N laughed lightly. “One of the many.” he said, bringing her flush against his chest. “Or perhaps, one might say, I was trapped under the charming spell of a certain flower fairy.”

#alhaitham x reader #alhaitham imagine #alhaitham #genshin #genshin x reader #genshin imagine #genshin impact #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact x reader

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1-helluva-hazbin · 7 months ago

Text

Growing Pains

Lucifer x Reader

Content warning: fluff, trust building, slow burn, building communication skills, self improvement, fast proofread (please excuse the errors)

Summary: Lucifer's attempt to bond with you, a newer resident of the hotel, spectacularly backfires. Unable to avoid Lucifer, with an impending sinister catalyst, necessitate a resolution forcing you to work through your avoidance tendencies.

Author Notes: This one shot is on the longer side. Let me know if you think I should have made it 2 chapters or if it works as it is. I also wanted to apologize for the day delay! Yesterday did not go as I had planned.

Word Count: 6183

Thank you for all the love and support you choose to give!

Charlie and Vaggie were sitting and talking in the hotel lobby not too far off from you. Vaggie’s one arm, the one you could see, casually draped over the back of the couch. Her thumb stretched from its resting position, lightly caressing her partner as they talked. A minute affection Charlie didn’t seem to notice in her exuberant excitement. One you couldn’t help but focus on, completely ignoring the book you were looking over. You forced your attention back to the book momentarily before Charlie started laughing. The sound ripped your gaze from the pages back over to the loving couple. Charlie’s hand now on Vaggie’s arm.

It made the skin on your arm prickle with goosebumps.

“My, my, my, weren’t you ever taught it’s rude to stare?” The accusation startled you from your fixation and you tilted your head to see Lucifer propped from beside you. One eyebrow skyrocketed nearly to his hairline while the over exaggerated smile on his lips seemed to pull painfully tight on his lips as he attempted to playfully exclaim, “It’s almost like you’re plotting something!”

His quip stung, intentionally or not. You had noticed since arriving his method of interacting with other sinners was usually to tease them about sinner-like things; violence, cannibalism, plotting against other people, their drug use. His favorite against you was that you were plotting a scheme, usually against Charlie. Everyone had been slightly wary of you upon your arrival. Charlie had sworn up and down that it would change. That since you always seemed so aloof and standoffish it was just unnerving for some people in the hotel. Including her dad who was trying, in his own way, to connect with all the sinners when he was around. He had a couple thousand years of prejudice to work through but, he was trying!

She had taken to coaching you at every interaction you had with her. Even Vaggie had jumped on board with her encouragement. If one of them said hello and asked how your day was, a simple ‘fine’ wouldn’t suffice. It didn’t encourage bonding! No, you had to elaborate. Tell them what you did that day. Did you learn anything new? What books are you reading? Share with them things about yourself! Ask how their day was. Reference something they previously told you. Have an actual conversation.

As well intended as they were, it was exhausting. Having gone from almost solitary living for the last century or two -between working in a job where you were almost completely unbothered while living with a single roommate whom you could go days without speaking to- this was a complete 180 and utterly tiring. You didn’t uproot your life to make friends. You had come here to work on redeeming yourself. Get into heaven if it was possible. Which Charlie repeatedly told you included being friendlier, kind, thoughtful, and most importantly selfless. Even if you didn’t necessarily care about everything other people had to say, it was important to still allow them space to be themselves without judgment and make sure they felt heard. That is what would help get you into heaven!

You had noticed as time wore on, begrudgingly so, the tactics she had you practicing had been working. Several of the newer residents had loosened up around you and started conversing with you on a somewhat regular basis. During some of the group exercises where Charlie would tell people to pair up, they had come up to you and suggested you work together. It was just a skill you had let wither that you needed to redevelop. A plant you needed to relocate from shade to sun.

Whatever analogy you needed to tell yourself you did to prevent yourself from giving up. You came here for redemption after all which meant something needed to change and maybe that was part of it. You wouldn’t have been cast to hell if you had gotten things right.

So as Lucifer loitered beside you, you tried to keep in mind you needed to be better and that this was his way of connecting like Charlie had said. Regardless of how it stung hearing it time and time again. This was just practice. More draining practice. “I’m not plotting anything sir.” you said, closing the book in your hands before setting it down to make sure he knew he had your attention. Now what though?

You wracked your mind for what to say next. Charlie said to be honest with people. How do you explain to him why exactly you were staring? That you had started craving physical touch again since coming here. That after having gone years without brushing against anything other than the books you worked with, that having Charlie clasp your hands when she was excited or Angel throwing an completely unwarranted arm over your shoulders when he wanted to use you as a prop for his dramatics, those simple actions had suddenly rekindled your human, well sinner, desire for contact. How pathetic would that make you look? How weak? Then to have been caught fixated on them, desperate to live vicariously momentarily.

“I was just…” you drawled. The idea of telling the truth set your face ablaze in embarrassment. You couldn’t bring yourself to say the truth. You looked over at the couple settling on your answer. “...admiring their relationship.”

He openly laughed, playing along with his original story, “Mmmmhm. If you say so~~.”

A combination of frustration and disappointment washed over you. Completely incinerating any trace of the embarrassment you have felt over the real reason why you had been staring. Hearing him happily hum as he sauntered over to Charlie not believing an ounce of what you said regardless of your lack of ill will towards the princess. If he was only joking, why was it the same barb over and over? Why were you the one he continuously chose to make that specific joke with? It really didn’t feel like a joke anymore.

You looked down at your book trying and failing to speedily process your emotions. You heaved yourself up turning to leave. Not wanting to exist in other people’s presence anymore. Too emotionally taxed.

Wrapped up in your own feelings and thoughts you missed Lucifer glancing back at you. You missed the jarred skip of his step as he caught sight of the haggard expression during your momentary unmasking. You missed the fact he stopped walking all together as you slipped from the room.

You quickly found shelter in the sanctity of your room. Recharging the rest of the evening cocooned in the fuzziest blankets you had, that you made sure always smelled of orange and cinnamon, buried in the book you had just gotten. As the evening slipped into night though, you slipped from your room and made your way down the hall needing a small break from the confines of your quarters before heading to sleep. Because despite your exhaustion, you enjoyed a little fresh air before bed.

Living on the second to top floor had its downsides; like being closer to Alastor’s studio or hiking up the seemingly endless number of stairs. You personally felt it had more perks though. One of the best upsides being a small balcony with a cafe styled table and chairs. Later in the evening when a good number of the residents had either retired to their room for the evening or were still out partying, there was a blissful window of time where there was little risk of running into some else. So you would make your way to the balcony and sit looking out over the city.

Disconnected but present.

You pulled one of the chairs next to the railing so the back of the seat was at a 90 degree angle to the railing. Plopping yourself down, you perched yourself in the seat with both feet up. One arm rested on the railing so as you leaned forward, your belly pressing into your legs, your chin and cheek resting on your arm rather than the cool metal. A few adjustments here and there quickly remedied any qualms your body had with the positioning and finally you were nestled in. The final signal of settling a small decompressing huff.

The usual sights and sounds greeted you. Your eyes scanning for any changes or immediate drama to observe from your box seat above the masses. Angel Dust and Husk walking away from the hotel caught your eye. Angel talking with his whole body as Husk just shook his head in amusement. Angel suddenly buckled over laughing before reaching out to place a hand on Husk’s shoulder to steady himself.

The skin on your shoulder prickled and you involuntarily shiver. You look away from them too little too late. The ache for contact instantaneously tearing at you from the inside. The arm wrapped around yourself tightened in a futile attempt to ease the ache, already knowing from experience it wouldn’t work. You buried your face in your arms contemplating just going back to your room to lose yourself in the book that had occupied your warring mind earlier.

A click sounded from behind you making your head shoot up to see a bashful appearing Lucifer holding the door open. He gave a lopsided grin, gingerly pointing to the second seat, “Do you… mind if I join you?”

You blinked a couple of times, staring at him. Immediately wary of his presence. The lingering silence dragged on, making him shuffle anxiously before you gave permission with a curt nod. You directed your attention back out towards the city despite being hyper aware of him.

A quivering laugh slipped from his lips as he stepped out a little too close for your liking, admittedly the size of the balcony was intended to be intimate, and closed the door behind him as he sat down in the seat across from you. He immediately stretched out, slipping his legs through the railings, putting one elbow on the table between the two of you. “Not a bad view from up here. If you ignore most of the gun shots and ‘fuck you’s’ it can be pretty enjoyable.” He shot a sideways glance over to feel out your reaction at his attempted small talk.

“Yeah it is.”

The city sounds echoed between the two of you. Distant conversations filling the void that the two beings right there were unable, or unwilling, to fill. He nervously laughed, his fingers drumming on the table. You looked over to him this time. Seeing his eyes flittering from object to object unable to choose 1 thing to look at.

Quickly, his drumming fingers started to grate against your already worn nerves and tired mind. Unable to bare whatever this was any further, you attempted to excuse yourself as you started to stand. “It’s late. I’m heading to-”

“No! Wait! Wait!” he sat up from his faux relaxed pose holding out both hands. “Just… hold on.” he breathed out yet another quivering laugh, the panic shining brightly in his eyes as you bore into him with yours.

He took a deep breath. He looked away, mentally giving himself a small pep talk before he looked back. “I wanted to talk. About earlier.”

“I’m tired….” you admit as you stood there looking down at him. His nervous grin and hopeful eyes making your resolve to run buckle. “What about earlier?” you ask, easing back into your seat placing both hands of your clasped on the table.

“Thank you.” he said before beginning to explain. “When you were leaving the lobby,” he specified, making a circle motion with one of his hands, “you looked, well, upset.”

“I looked upset.” you repeated.

He slowly nodded. His next words said slowly and carefully, “I was… wondering if it was something I did? Or said?” he paused before further clarifying, “I wanted you to tell me why.”

You scoffed. Perhaps it was the unroofing of a metaphorical wound his joke had made. Perhaps because you were tired. It could have also been a combination or something completely unrelated. Regardless, you were unable to hold back the venomous sarcasm that slipped from you, “Well I can’t imagine why.” Lucifer’s eyes widened, the reaction only egging you on. “It’s like constantly being judged for something you didn’t and wouldn’t do isn’t upsetting.”

Lucifer stared blankly, “What?”

“Oh you’re plotting against Charlie I see?” your voice lowered in a pathetic attempt to mimic the king. “How many times did you think you’d get away with making the same joke before I realized you clearly meant it? That you’re genuinely suspicious I’m out to hurt Charlie?”

“I didn’t-”

“How many times do I have to tell you I’m not out to get her? I like Charlie! She’s kind! She’s thoughtful! Yeah she’s irritatingly persistent but, she needs to be.”

You had started to dig your nails into your own clasped hands in your flurry of emotions unable to reign them in. You took a breath, realizing you needed to step away from this conversation. You stood up just as Lucifer found his voice. “I never meant for it to be an accusation. It was meant to be a joke.” You felt your emotions spike again, your jaw clenching, as he continued, “I saw you staring at them an-”

“Because I’m TOUCH STARVED!” the words were out of your mouth before you could consider what you were saying, “I saw them giving one another affection and was just so envious! I just stared! I didn’t mean to, I-” You glanced up to him to find a look of confusion, twisting with what you interpreted as disgust, on Lucifer’s face that made your train of thought grind to a halt to reevaluate why his expression was so. Your mind finally processing your admission. “I just…” A hand slowly lifted to lightly cover your mouth, your eyes widening.

“What now?” he asked, the confusion deepening in the expression of his face. A raised eyebrow. A lopsided frown. The slight tilt of his head.

Your face started burning, chest tightening. It instantly became hard to breathe. Panic. You were panicking at the vulnerability you had just bared. Anger melded with embarrassment in the midst of your anxiety. You bristled, launching into an unneeded defense. “You know what, I don’t need to fucking explain myself to you.” You turned, throwing the door to the balcony open, practically running back to your room. Anything he might have said behind you drowned out by your panicked thoughts.

A sleepless night followed. Unable to calm your mind, it ran in circles in your head; justification of your outburst, realizing you completely blew it all out of proportion, getting angry that you had allowed such a vulnerability to air so freely, fear of what Lucifer might do with the information or who he might tell, embarrassment at being so weak, anger at the conversation having happened, before feeling defensive again to repeating the looping train of thought. As the day’s light started to breach the veil of night, only then did you finally slip into unconsciousness utterly spent.

The next few days were spent dodging Lucifer which was relatively easy since you were simultaneously also attempting to fix your wrecked sleep schedule. When you were going to sessions though, you did your best to preemptively vacate any areas when you heard Lucifer approaching or avoided areas you knew he would be in. The change in behavior had mostly been easy to truthfully explain to Charlie as well when you boiled down the scenario into the simplest of terms. You had gotten upset about something and had ended up not sleeping well. While she of course wanted to know the whole situation to help you navigate it in any way she could, she was respectful, admittedly a little pouty, when you said it was something you weren’t ready to talk about. Not having to lie to her made you feel a little better since you missed quite a few of her group exercises.

While many of the residents didn’t care or hadn’t found the change to be too out of place, when paired with your explanation, it didn’t slip the careful eye of Alastor. The first day it had seemed to catch his attention but, by the second day he had taken a keen interest in your antics. When you would try to slip out before Lucifer would come into a room, he would stop you to talk about your participation in the session. Once he told you Charlie wanted to speak with you and then took you into a room where Lucifer and Charlie were talking, only for him to have misheard Charlie’s request. While he framed his actions as innocent and well intended, you had never seen the grin on Alastor’s face as wide as it was. It was unnerving.

By the fourth day, you weren’t just paranoid about running into Lucifer. Alastor’s newest hobby had seemed to become tormenting you and his questions and conversations had become probing. Feeling out cracks in your story. At one point he had even told you he was all ears for any issues you might have with other residents or guests.

Having lived through his rise to power, you knew there was no good to come from exposing yourself to such a machiavellian individual. You wouldn’t put it past him to worm a deal out of anyone, even as lowly you. An expendable pawn was still a piece to play and he was one to look at the bigger picture.

At that point, you garnered enough gumption to face Lucifer. You couldn’t risk getting caught under Alastor’s thumb and the idea of him knowing you were touch starved and how that could be held against you igniting a spike of anxiety. You knew Lucifer and Alastor were not on good terms but, the idea of word getting to Alastor was distressing. You loathed the idea of facing Lucifer but you needed to ensure your blunder remained under wraps. This was for self preservation at this point.

Towards the end of the day, you sequestered yourself to your room to prepare; plan key points you wanted to discuss, how you wanted to phrase things, etc. You knew you couldn't lose your head again, considering how the prior incend had led to the current circumstances. After an hour or so though, you felt ready.

You made your way to the top floor, taking extra precautions to avoid running into Alastor potentially heading to his studio. Once certain Alastor was not loitering about or following you, you made your way down the hallway towards Lucifer's room. You focused on your breathing as you trekked the hall. Attempting to quell your anxiety and slow your racing heart, to no avail. By the time you reached his door, your pulse was thrumming in your ears and you were certain he would be able to hear it too.

You stood before his door paralyzed. Both hands clenched at your side. Unable to stop the tremble that plagued them. Your eyes locked onto the perfect white presetine door as if trying to bore holes through it. Your breathing uneven. All the words you had practiced having evaporated from your head as you made your way there.

This was a mistake.

You pivot. Hurriedly, retreating.

Halfway back towards the stairs your eyes register Alastor's studio door and the terror that drove you to the point resurface. You halted. Your hands flew to your head in a silent temper tantrum as your mind raced to determine what would be the lesser evil. A sense of urgency gnawing at you considering you were standing dead center in the hallway of a barren floor.

What was worse; not knowing if Lucifer might reveal what you had said, accidentally or intentionally, with everyone including Alastor potentially finding out or turning around and confronting Lucifer?

The first concern was all just a possibility though wasn't it? There was no guarantee that it would happen. Talking to Lucifer wouldn't guarantee that he wouldn't spill your secret either. You let out a soft, maniacal sounding laugh as you took a step forward only to stop again. A possibility that would weigh on you for weeks to months leading to you lurking around the hotel, as you had been, haunting the place. Harrowed by the uncertainty at every turn.

"FFFUuuuucccckkk..." you groaned softly. Your palms sliding down your forehead pressing into your eyes. You needed to confront Lucifer. The realization making your stomach churn. You couldn't continue dodging him and you couldn't outrun the fear. You turned resting your back against the wall, your hands on your knees as you bent over mentally recollecting yourself. You went through what you had gone over before in your room. Reminding yourself of the key points.

You sighed and brought your palms to your eyes again. Slowly breathed out. Pulling your hands from your eyes, you launched off the wall propelling you back towards Lucifer's room. The momentum only lasting a few steps before freezing again.

"Heeeey, as entertaining as this pantomiming is, and it's a great performance, I would appreciate getting access to my room sometime tonight."

Your face blanched as a shiver slipped down your spine. You slowly turned to see Lucifer standing behind you. Both hands perched on the apple of his cane and a practiced smile on his lips. One eyebrow raised, almost lost beneath the rim of his hat, as he watched you tentatively turn towards him.

Instantly you straightened yourself and stepped aside. "Good evening." your voice was dry and hoarse.

"Yup. Good evening." he chirped back, unmoving. Your eyes were locked onto a spot on the floor, your mind utterly blank. As the seconds drew on, his smile tensed as he nervously waited for you to do...something? His fingers drummed on his cane. "Well... if the performance is over I'll be heading to my room. Have a good night!" He looked away awkwardly and started on his way.

A quick glance at his back got the gears in your brain working. What were you doing? He was right there. You were screwing it up. "Wait...wait! Lucifer…" It was soft, but loud enough for him to hear. He slowed and turned looking back.

"I..." Your eyes meeting made you want to run. The idea of having this conversation replusing you. You pushed off the wall and walked over towards him, fighting the urge to flee. "Are you free? I-...I would like to apologize and talk. About the other day?" Your face felt flushed.

Lucifer shuffled and gently smiled which was unnerving. It was a smile you had only ever seen reserved for Charlie and Vaggie. "Don't you think it's rather late? It would be a little unproductive if we had a repeat of last time."

The comment struck a nerve considering it was earlier in the day than when he had approached you. It must have shown on your face as his smile dropped paired with your response. "That's fine. We can talk tomorrow."

"Unless, you're not tired?" he asked, putting his nervous smile back on and laughing anxiously, "We could have a cup of tea this time. Chamomile perhaps?"

You hesitated but, then nodded. "That would be nice."

He nodded, as he started towards his room onto the spin around. "Ah! You're comfortable talking in my room right? I wouldn't want to make an assumption! We could certainly talk on the balcony again if you prefer!"

"Uh, somewhere private is preferred so your room is fine." You respond bluntly, his nervous energy deflating. He nodded once more, his grip on his cane as tight as a vice.

The two of you made your way to his room; him leading with you trailing after. His room was surprisingly clean though you couldn't help but notice a small work area over to the left of the door with two piles of perhaps 50 or so rubber ducks. He had noticed your gaze and eagerly redirected you over towards the windows where he had a little cushioned bench seat perched below. As you settled into the seat, Lucifer got two tea cups ready with a snap of his fingers.

He carried them over to you with practiced care and gingerly handed one off to you before he sat down as well. You took the cup, admiring the beautiful and intricate abstract design on it, before lightly blowing on it and taking a sip.

"Sooooo..." he drawled, having quickly taken a sip from his cup as well, "before you start, there is something I wanted to bring up if that's alright." Your eyes flick to his, his expression a mask utilizing his usual smile. You nod, making sure he saw before he proceeded,"I need you to explain to me what you meant by 'touch staved'."

You gawked at him. You hadn’t heard what you thought you just heard. “What?”

Lucifer blinked before looking a little frantic and blurting out, “I know what it means! Of course I know what it means. I’m the king of hell. I’m not so wildly out of touch that I don’t!” he laughed looking out the window before taking a sip of his tea, “I’ve also heard it can mean different things to different people. So I want to know what it means. To you! I want to know what it means to you.”

He finally looked back to you taking another sip of his tea, already halfway through his small porcelain cup. Meanwhile, you felt like you were short circuiting sitting across from him. Not only had you spent the last few days fretting and dodging the angel, worrying that he would tell people what you said, but now he was asking you to spell it out for him. Was he….messing with you? You studied him before he gave you a toothy grin coyly purred out, “So?”

It didn’t seem like he was messing with you. Something like this was more Angel Dust’s style of teasing. You mimic Lucifer by taking a sip of your tea for a slight delay. You carefully set the teacup down on the windowsill next to you and place your hands in your lap. “I need you to promise me you’ll never tell anyone.”

“And why would I do that?” He asked. He was messing with you now though you were in no mood for it.

You narrowed your eyes at him and stated as matter of factly as you could despite wanting to spit venom defensively, “I’m not untouchable like you. We’re in HELL. Anything and everything can be used against you by the wrong people. I can’t end up having someone use anything I say here against me.”

His facade softened and his smile dropped into a frown. He brought the teacup up to his lips and muttered something into the chamomile. “No one is untouchable…”

You heard him say something but, hadn't been able to make it out so you remained quiet.

“I promise to never tell another soul.” he finally sighed.

“On Charlie’s life?” you asked, knowing he could still share what was said as there was no magic binding him. You needed to know just how serious he was though and Charlie was usually a good indicator. His eyes flashed red and they narrowed at you. You held firm, keeping eye contact and straightening your spine.

“On my life. No reason to bring Charlie into this.” he leaned back, his eyes fading back to their normal golden hue.

You hesitated to accept but relented with a nod. Knowing you had to accept the compromise he offered but, you did feel satisfied that he wouldn’t share what was said. You started thinking about where to begin. As you contemplated, you felt your face heat in embarrassment. He watched, patiently biding his time as he lightly tapped the rim of his teacup with a claw topping it off with more tea.

“For me…” you looked him, locking eyes. The embarrassment clawing through you. The intensity making you panic. Your eyes darted away. Finding a spot on the floor to stare at again so you could think with even a fraction more clarity. “For me it means I… I …miss…touch.”

You glanced up to him, to see the sight raise of an eyebrow. Your mind started churning with worst case scenarios and suddenly your face burned hotter. You looked away again.

“Not sexual!” The words spit out, not wanting any uncomfortable undertones to the conversation. “It’s just… simple touch. Like hugging. Lightly having someone put their hand on my shoulder. Even just bumping into people. Any sort of skin contact makes me want more and afterwards that’s all I want. It takes days for that to calm down and since being here… that’s usually around the time something else happens. It’s a never ending cycle.”

He listened, his face remaining neutral as you spoke and he remained silent for a beat after you finished. You rubbed your arm. Between talking about the topic and your nerves, there was a compulsion to do something with your hands. He broke the silence, “The other day when we had our…falling out, you had been watching Charlie and Vaggie because you saw them touching one another? That is why you mentioned being envious?”

You nodded, closing your eyes as you took a breath in an attempt to calm yourself.

He smiled. His fingers rubbing the edge of his teacup as he gazed into it. He knew those feelings all too well. “That…makes sense.” You open your eyes to look at him, noticing the look on his face. He noticed your movement and looked up to you, giving a lopsided smile.

Lilith had been absent for 7 years.

Your eyes widened at the possibility and dared to pose the question, “You too?”

Lucifer stiffened a moment, took a breath and nodded. “Yes. Even I have those days.”

He took a sip of his tea and looked out the window. You picked yours back up and mimicked his action.

“I’m sorry…” you said after a few minutes of what you felt was relatively comfortable silence. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you the other day. It wasn’t fair. I was tired and already feeling…exposed? Hmm…sensitive is probably a better word…”

“Regardless, I knew I was tired. I should have asked to shelve the conversation once I realized it wasn’t something I couldn’t handle right then and there. I’m also sorry for not actually hearing you out once you started since I didn’t ask to stop. I’d like to try discussing it again if you’re willing.”

You spoke while looking out the window. Seeing him shift his attention to you from your peripherals you keep your eyes trained to elsewhere. After you finished, you turned slightly to look at him from the corner of your eye.

The conversation that followed supplied far better results than the last. He clarified how all of his barbs had been an attempt to be playful since he didn’t know you well but, understood how hearing it over and over had manifested as a passive aggressive accusation on your end. You apologized for having taken it that way and not properly addressed the issue before it started to fester as anger. The compromising being he wouldl stop trying to interact with you in that way with the caveat being if he slipped up or tried something new that you didn’t appreciate, you would address it before resentment could build.

At the end, the both of you sat on the bench sipping the last of your tea looking out at the city. At some point, Lucifer had opened one of the windows. A light caress of warm wind slipped in scattering goosebumps up your arms despite it not being cold and you brought a hand up to rub them, hoping they rescinded quickly.

Lucifer’s eyes slid to the motion. “So how long has it been since you had, I guess, consistent contact with someone?”

You blinked, thinking about it. “A couple decades.”

“Decades?” he gasped out. He realized just how loud he had been and he coughed with a smile to cover up his reaction. “I mean. Decades. That’s… awhile.”

“Yeah, well…” uncertain on if he was genuinely surprised at the length of time or found it underwhelming and was being sarcastic, you weren’t entirely sure what to make of his reaction. “Most sinners don’t bother with libraries. The hellborn who do, don’t want to interact with a sinner and avoided me, opting for one of the other hellborns working. So I got left alone most of the time.”

You shrugged your shoulders and turned your attention back out the window. Thinking about it now, it hadn’t bothered you then. You suppose you might have just been ignoring that downside though. It had always been easy to check yourself out emotionally and just get through what needed to be done. Not contemplating what you wanted or what could be. Only focused on what was.

“Has…” you start and then stop, wondering if you should ask. You glance over to him seeing he hadn’t redirected his attention to you. “How long has it been for you?”

“Consistently?” he asked as he pondered the question he had posed to you. “A decade? Maybe a little longer. Lilith and I…” his eyes roamed down to his ring. “We had more downs than ups well before she left but I still got some affection in between when we had a good stretch.

A sad tone had seeped into his voice. He gently rubbed the ring with his middle finger, a sense of melancholy filling the room. You watched. Never having had an extended relationship with someone before, you couldn't pretend to imagine the feelings that lingered. You took a breath and then scooted over on the bench seat pulling him from his thoughts. You extended an open hand to him. He stared. He hesitated before slowly reaching out, his decision wavering for a split second before he placed his hand in yours.

You gently took hold of his hand and looked back out the window. He was far warmer than you had expected him to be. His skin soft. You sighed softly feeling far less unsettled by the sensation than you had thought, regardless of how intimate the action could be seen. It was mindless for you as your thumb began to lightly caress the back of his hand. Lucifer fidgeted next to you, though he didn’t retract his hand.

You weren’t sure how long the two of you sat there. The sounds of the city echoing off the walls of his room with hell’s consistent warm breeze enveloping the two of you in wave after wave. Each of you basking in the warmth of the other, no matter how little it was. It wasn’t until you noticed Lucifer starting to nod off that you smiled and squeezed his hand.

His eyes fluttered open to find you looking at him with a bemused smile. The softest you had looked at him to date. “You’re tired.”

“I’m not.” he mumbled, a well timed yawn slipping from his lips. You raised a brow with his response being a ‘tsk’ noise.

You slowly, reluctantly, pull your hand from his before pushing yourself to a stand. A stretch had a few of your joints popping. “Would be an awful idea to fall asleep like that.”

He stood next to you with a noncommittal hum. As you reached for your cup and saucer, a snap of his fingers dispensed of both his and yours. You nod at him before you look over towards the door and then back to him. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. That kind of magic is thoughtless to me.” he said, misinterpreting your meaning.

“I meant for talking things over and spending your evening with me.”

He burbled out a laugh. “Oh well don’t mention that either. Literally. Don’t mention this to anyone. I have a reputation to uphold. King of hell and all.” he grinned at you with his characteristic saccharine smile.

“An exchange of secrets then?” You asked, entertaining a little bit of his playfulness.

“Ah, still worried about me spilling the beans?” he asked, walking you to the door. “An exchange then. I won’t share yours if you don’t share mine.”

“Deal.” The response was quick and sharp. He opened the door and you stepped through the threshold, pausing and turning around. “Thank you again. I… enjoyed this. Most of this anyway.”

“My pleasure.” his hand did several circle motions as he performed a mock half bow.

You rolled your eyes at his dramatics. “Goodnight Lucifer.” you say beginning to head off before you add, “Let me know if you would like to do something like this again. A tea time or something. I’ll make sure to keep it drama free.”

He grinned leaning against his door frame. “I’d enjoy that.”

#lucifer morningstar #lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel #lucifer magne #lucifer morningstar x you #lucifer x reader #my writing #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #Growing Pains #slow burn #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x y/n #fanfiction #fanfic #1-helluva-hazbin #writing

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lees-chaotic-brain · 8 months ago

Note

this is for your event 🗣️🗣️

here me out.. gojo fic abt the song tell your girlfriend by lay banks. something like having a crush on gojo and he likes reader too but reader and gojo are with other people. idc who readers boyfriend is🫣

WC: 1.7k

CW: alcohol consumption (all characters of age), swearing, cheating (see above ask for details), female pronouns (reader referred to as girlfriend), not beta read AT ALL, reader is a bit of a crybaby lol

Note: thanks for sending an ask in emi!!! also, this song is fire i was literally jamming the entire time i was writing. also, sorry if you wanted this to be more true to the vibe of the song. i kind of interpreted it my own way and rolled with it lmao

listen to this while reading

Event Guide | Event Masterlist | JJK Masterlist | Blog Navigation

You loved your boyfriend, right? You had only been dating four months, but you wouldn’t have dated someone if you didn’t have feelings for him. Sure, he could be a little aloof, and a little rude, but he had his moments when he was sweet and caring. So why did you find yourself thinking of someone else?

During the day when the sun was out and you were thinking rationally you could convince yourself that you truly cared for him, but at night under the low lighting of the bar all bets were off. When you were a few shots past tipsy and your thinking was slowed, why did another face keep coming to mind.?

Initially, I wouldn't do this

Hennessy pourin' and shit gettin' fluid

And you never intended to cheat. And you definitely never intended to fall for your best friend who was also dating someone else. But when you spent time with him, or when he shot a flirtatious wink from across the room he ignited a swarm of butterflies in your stomach. A swarm of butterflies that went into hibernation when you were around your boyfriend.

You knew it was wrong, that you shouldn’t feel the way you did, but with the heavy beat of the bass coursing through you and cognac warming your insides your traitorous heart finally decided what it was Gojo Satoru made you feel. Desire. And…love. Oh shit, that wasn’t good.

Suddenly feeling a bit ill, you waved your concerned friend off and staggered outside to get some fresh air. Taking deep gulps of fresh air, you stepped into an alley to get some privacy so you could collect your thoughts. You wrap your arms around yourself in an attempt to ward off the chill of the night seeping through the thin fabric of your clothes.

As you stand there shivering, your thoughts are interrupted by a warm jacket being wrapped around your shoulders. Spinning around, you find yourself face to face with the one person you absolutely did not want to see at the moment. Confronted by the appearance of your best friend, you can’t help but start crying. It’s stupid, you know, but as soon as you lay eyes on him the shock of your realization wears off and your emotions kick in.

“Oh my god, hey, are you okay?” He panics, grabbing your shoulders and peering into your face concerned. “Why are you crying? What’s wrong??”

His care only serves to make you cry harder. Why? Why did he have to be like this? Couldn’t he just be a bad friend and ignore you? It would be so much easier that way. Unsure what to do, he pulls you into a hug, patting you on the back.

“Hey. It’s okay. I got you. Can you tell me what’s wrong?” You can't take it anymore. You both are dating other people, and you are definitely finding too much comfort in his arms. Pushing him away, you avert your gaze.

“You, okay? You’re my problem. Can you just leave me alone please?”

His brow furrows. “What do you mean ‘me?’ Did I do something? Also, I’m not leaving you outside by yourself at this time of night. Please, can’t you just talk to me? Whatever I did I-”

“I just realized I’m in love with you, okay?!” Your voice rings out in the stillness of the alley, and you clap your hands over your mouth, horrified. “Wait, I-”

You’re cut off by him gently taking your face in his hands and slotting his lips against yours. The kiss is soft and sweet; filled with years of longing and suppressed feelings pouring from each of you. It feels like home. It feels like love. It feels right, but you know it isn’t. Pushing him back, you stare at him wide-eyed, your chest rising and falling with rapid breaths.

“What…what was that?”

We was just friends, but then came in Cupid

The tension was buildin', we had to pursue it

“I like you too.” He blurts in lieu of answering your question. Then he pauses and corrects himself. “Actually I’m in love with you. I have been for a while. I just didn’t think you felt the same.”

Unsure of what to do or say, you just start laughing, because the two of you were idiots. You were best friends who supposedly knew everything about each other. Except for the fact that you were each in love with the other, apparently. Oh my god you were in love with your best friend and he was in love with you. Your laughter became tinged with hysteria as you remembered that you had a boyfriend and he had a girlfriend.

Tears filled your waterline. “Oh my god Toru what are we doing? I have a boyfriend!! And you have a girlfriend! We can’t be doing this…”

“Why not?” He gently cups your face in his palms and brushes your tears away with his thumbs. “Break up with your boyfriend. Be with me. My girlfriend isn’t a problem. She’s known about my feelings for you from the start. She’s in love with someone else too and we’ve just been using each other as a distraction. There’s nothing in our way.”

Standing in that alley with his vivid blue eyes on yours, you couldn’t help but believe him. What if he was right. What if the two of you really were meant to be?”

What it's been with us this whole time

Taking a deep breath, you step back, and out of his reach. If you were going to think about this rationally, you couldn’t be so close to him. You push your hair back out of your eyes and tilt your head back. He watches you from where he is, knowing that you need space to sort out your emotions and thoughts. After a few minutes you turn back to him.

“Alright. The first thing I’m going to do is break up with my boyfriend and apologize. After that, I’m not sure. I don’t want to make you any promises, because I’m not really sure of anything. The only thing I know is that I won’t be able to live with myself if I don't break up with him, because he doesn’t deserve to be hurt or deceived. Okay?”

“That’s fine.” Satoru says simply, looking at you with so much affection it hurts. “I’ve waited for you so long, a little while longer isn’t going to do me any harm.”

Your eyes soften. “Thanks. Now, I’m going to head back in, okay?” He steps aside, allowing you to pass. Heading back into the party, you feel nauseous, but you head up to your boyfriend.

Because if you ever want to be with Satoru, your relationship can’t start with deception.

'Cause I don't wanna live a lie, lie, lie

An hour and one extremely difficult conversation later found you sitting on a park bench with your head in your hands crying. Surprisingly, your now ex-boyfriend had been very understanding and kind about it. While he was clearly hurt and holding back tears, he had told you that he just wanted you to be happy, and that he was okay with it.

After reassuring you that he wasn’t angry, he hugged you one last time, wished you well, and walked away. Unable to stop crying, you were overwhelmed by a sense of relief, but at the same time guilt. So you had told your boyfriend. What now?

Should tell my boyfriend what I been doin'

The weeks after your breakup were tough. You told Satoru you needed time to yourself, because even though you logically knew that you shouldn’t feel bad, you couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of guilt. You felt like if you started dating him now, it would be unfair to your ex, and that you should at least wait a little while.

You also discussed the matter of his girlfriend, and decided that it was okay for him to remain with her until you were ready, as the two of them were friends and he was helping her make her crush jealous. You didn’t mind him helping her, especially since you were making him wait and overcomplicating things.

You told Gojo as much, and decided that for the time being the two of you would remain friends until you were ready. You just needed a little time to figure yourself out. But you knew that you wanted to be with him. Just not right that second.

Took a break, had to focus on some me time

We can keep it low-key for the meantime

A couple months passed, and you went on with your life. Everything was normal, and you tried to push your thought of Satoru away, preferring to procrastinate on talking to him as long as possible.

Until one night, when you were cleaning your room and found a box of photos from your high school days with him. Going through them, you felt a sense of nostalgia, and affection. And suddenly you missed him. You missed him so bad it hurt. You needed him by your side, and you needed him as more than a friend.

Hit by this revelation, you sat there for a moment, stunned, before leaping up and grabbing your car keys. Driving well above the speed limit, you rushed to his house and banged on his door. Was it sometime after midnight? Yes. Did you really care? No.

You heard his groggy voice say something about waiting one moment, then the door swung open. And there he stood, right in front of you in all his sleepy glory. But as soon as his eyes landed on you they widened and all traces of sleep disappeared from them.

“[Y/N]! What are you doing here? It’s-” You interrupt him, tears already pouring down your face as you beam up at him.

“I love you. I’m ready to be your girlfriend now.”

Go tell your girlfriend that I'm your girlfriend (oh, oh)

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thirteenis-myluckynumber · 11 months ago

Text

Proposal - Nie Huaisang

Pairing: Nie Huaisang x f!reader

Word Count: 1669 words

Warnings/tags: none i think, the events leading up to the wedding, fluff

Notes: (C/N)-your clan's name, (Y/N)-your name

A/N: I planned this to be a one-shot but I got carried away, so the actual action *wink wink* will happen in the next chapter.

I did some completely unnecessary research for this (my adhd ass basically got distracted) but nothing specific. My cultural knowledge is from the show so I'm sorry for any possible mistakes regarding culture. This is my first time writing The Untamed. Also English is not my first language.

Part 2

You met Nie Huaisang at one of the cultivation meetings Jin Guangyao held in Carp Tower. You were a member of one of the smaller clans, so you didn't attend such gatherings in general. That one time your older brother insisted for you to come, as there were some issues to be discussed which might need your expertise as a healer.

During the many battles of the Sunshot Campaign, you actively participated in the healing of wounded soldiers, so many members from the bigger clans also knew you. So it was no wonder they were all pleasantly surprised to see you there at the meeting. After the greetings and toasts you were free to mingle, and almost everyone greeted you with a pleasant smile and grateful eyes. You also greeted them politely, asking about their family and health.

After a while you noticed that Zewu-jun were looking at you, wanting to invite you over to where he was standing with his brother Lan Wangji, Jin Guangyao and another finely dressed young man. As you walked over Lianfang-zun excused himself to greet the other guests. You turned to the remaining three men with a smile, and they bowed to you in return.

"(C/N)(Y/N). It's so nice to see you. What brings you here?" Lan Xichen asked with a small smile on his lips.

"Apparently, Lianfang-zun requires my help with something. And I took the chance to reunite with old acquaintances."

Lan Wangji stared at you in his usual way, not showing any of his emotions. You also wanted to ask what brought him here, but with a curt nod to you and his brother he also excused himself. Finally, you turned to the man now standing next to Lan Xichen. You had an attention to detail, so only a quick glance was enough for you to notice his handsome face and elegant clothing however, you didn't remember meeting him before.

"It's nice to meet you, Master...," you trailed off somewhat nervously as you didn't know how to address him.

He appeared lost in thought for a moment as he seemed to ever so slightly jump at your words. Still, he quickly schooled his expression into a calm and dignified look, but you could still see his nervousness underneath.

"I am Nie Huaisang. Pleased to meet you Lady (C/N)," he said as he bowed to you again, holding his fan in his hands.

As you realized your previous mistake, you were quick to return his bow.

"Ahh, please excuse my rudeness Clan Leader Nie."

He didn't seem offended at all as he glanced at you with a small smile, which appeared to be sad to you. You knew the story of his ascension to clan leader, after all his brother's death was still a widely discussed topic between cultivators. You also heard the various mean stories about Nie Huaisang himself, in which cultivators often referred to him as the Head Shaker or Good-For-Nothing. Stealing another glance at the man, he didn't seem quite as incompetent to you as these stories described him. He might not carry a sword and appear generally nervous, but you could also see the intelligence in his eyes. Right when you wanted to ask him about the situation in Qinghe, your brother called out to you to return to your tables. You exchanged bows with the two men again and returned to where your clan was sitting. However, you didn't seem to think about anything else that day but the handsome and mysterious Clan Leader Nie.

In the upcoming weeks you had the chance to meet with Nie Huaisang many more times, at political meetings and at night hunts too. You were not one to attend often, but as time went by you became more and more interested in the leader of the Nie Clan. As far as men go, he was the first one with whom you could always stir up meaningful conversations about various topics, not just politics or war. As someone who were always interested in music and arts, you found it exceptionally refreshing to listen to him talk about his passions, especially painting and his favourite fans. Looking at him, it always made you happy to see him quite relaxed during your conversations. After a while he even became bolder and started to show you his beautiful smile and laugh and you had to realize, that you, at the same time, started to fall in love with him.

Your brother always had a watchful eye on you two and he always let you know when he thought you spent enough time in the company of the clan leader. You understood his reasoning of course, so you always rejoined your family after a short conversation with Nie Huaisang.

After a few such meetings though, you started receiving gifts from him. At first you didn't know from whom they came from, but one time a messenger, who delivered some letters to your brother, handed you a neatly packaged hand-painted folding fan. It was the most beautiful thing you have ever seen, and you instantly knew who it was from. As you carefully traced the intricately painted lines on the fan with your fingertips your heart was beating so hard you felt it might jump out of your chest at any moment.

The next week your brother informed you that Clan Leader Nie requested a lunch with him and that you should also attend. Despite his reputation, everyone in your home made sure the preparation for the lunch were going smoothly. Everyone seemed excited to host such a high-ranking cultivator in your home. To say that you were nervous when the day finally arrived was an understatement. Actually, you thought you were never this nervous before.

During the lunch you were actually becoming calmer until your brother finally steered the conversation toward the actual meaning of the whole thing.

"Clan Leader Nie, may I ask the reason of your visit?" Your brother inquired after you exhausted all the general conversation topics.

Nie Huaisang seemed rather nervous too during the whole lunch, but looking at him now you were worried he might actually faint. Good thing you are a healer, you thought. For a few moments he sat there completely silent and almost motionless. Only his hands fiddling with his closed fan revealed his emotions. He looked up at your brother and opened his fan to hide behind it. The longer he spoke the quicker his hand moved the elegant accessory, and it seemed his face got redder by the minute.

"Clan Leader (C/N), as you probably noticed, we became quite well-acquainted with your sister. I would like to believe we became rather close even in the past few weeks. And you didn't seem opposed by my advances either. What I mean by all this is that...," he trailed off, even his ears were bright red by now. He appeared to be steeling himself for his next words. Finally he reluctantly lowered his fan and looked at you with frightened but hopeful eyes. God, you just wanted to hug him at that moment. But you couldn't, so you mustered your most encouraging smile and nodded at him. You were certain your cheeks were also red at that point. Nie Huaisang looked straight into your brother's eyes and said:

"I would like to ask for your permission to take your sister as my wife."

When he finally said it, it seemed like a huge stone was lifted off of his shoulders. His posture became more relaxed, but the fan opened again, only at his chest though, not covering his face. Now it was your turn to nervously glance at your brother. His face didn't show anger or disgust, only deep contemplation, which was a good sign, you thought.

"Clan Leader Nie, I am honored you think so highly of my sister. I have to say however, your bad reputation is not something I can ignore..."

"Gege!" You exclaimed, looking at your brother shocked and scared. Thinking back, you never thought your brother believed all those mean rumors about Nie Huaisang because he was just as good at reading people as you were.

"Meimei, let me finish," your brother said not even looking at you, a slight warning in his voice.

"Clan Leader Nie, as you said, I never opposed your relations with my sister. You seem to me an honorable man, and you never behaved inappropriately around her. But you have to understand, my sister's future depends on me. That's why I brought up your reputation. They say you are incompetent, but that's not what I see. I think you are very good at this whole political game. All I ask of you is to take care of my sister and don't let her reputation be ruined."

As he finished speaking you instantly turned to Nie Huaisang, who seemed to freeze, only his eyes turned impossibly big. His mind probably stuck to the same thought as yours, because that meant your brother actually agreed, right?

With his next sentence, he confirmed your suspicions: "I accept your proposal. If my sister agrees, she is yours."

You could only nod your head furiously as Nie Huaisang stood up and bowed deeply to your brother in thanks.

"Clan Leader (C/N), I assure you, your sister's happiness will always be my top priority. I will take care of her until my last day," Nie Huaisang said, his voice shaky.

As he straightened up, you could see his eyes glistening with unshed tears and you couldn't hold yourself back anymore. You basically jumped up, walked around the table and grabbed his shaking hands.

"I would love to be yours, Nie Huaisang," you said squeezing his hands.

He looked at you with that self-assured half smile you loved so much, and which he showed so rarely these days, but it always signaled some kind of mischief.

You didn't notice your brother looking at you two with a fond look on his face.

To be continued

#the untamed x reader #mdzs x reader #untamed x reader #nie huaisang x reader #the untamed #mdzs #mdzs fanfiction #the untamed fanfic #mdzs nie huaisang #mdzs nhs #the untamed nie huaisang #untamed fanfiction #x reader #reader insert #fanfic #writing #fan fiction #fan fic writing

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morning-star-joy · 2 years ago

Text

and I'll never see you again if I can help it

a stranger's heart without a home Chapter 6

Pairing: rivals to friends with benefits Joel x F!Reader, Post-Outbreak

Chapter Summary: You and Joel fall into a temporary truce after your patrol. At Tommy's urging, you go out for drinks with the two brothers. When you and Joel find yourselves alone after, the tension between you continues to rise until it snaps again.

Chapter Warnings: Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI) Mutual Masturbation, Unprotected p in v sex, Drunk Sex, Dirty Talk, Brief Mention of Masturbation (f), References to Previous Smut, Language, Alcohol Use, the sexist asshole from Chapter 3 makes a reappearance & tries to sl*t shame Reader but gets put in his place by both Reader and Joel, Brief Bar Fight, Mild Description of a Shallow Cut/Injury Treatment

A/N: Translation: Qué mala eres = You're so bad (ty to my wife @cynibuns for helping with the translation ily here's your writing cred)! Also, Chapter 14 will be up on ao3 tomorrow! Most likely evening-ish PST when I get home from being out of town. Hope you’re all having a lovely weekend!

Wordcount: 10.4k

chapter 1 || chapter 5 || chapter 6 || masterlist

ao3 link

The severity of the tension between you and Joel lightened, if only slightly.

You wouldn’t say he treated you warmly now, but the harshness of the chill he regarded you with did lessen. Joel would greet you when he saw you now, either with a slight nod or your name spoken as an acknowledgement. You returned the niceties with your own, and even though they were simple, they lessened a burden you hadn’t realized you had felt since the man returned to town.

Tommy was happy about this perceived change in your relationship with his brother, to say the least. If you and Joel found yourself in the rare circumstance that you were seated next to each other for a meal and not biting each other’s heads off, it felt like Tommy would appear out of nowhere to slap you both on the back in barely contained glee.

“We gotta go out for drinks tonight,” he would say with a grin, to which Joel shook his head to himself and you laughed disbelievingly.

“Maybe when the kid is old enough to come with us,” you would remark cheekily, referring to the latest addition to the Miller family, knowing from how you remained Joel’s patrol partner that the bundle of joy still needed both parents around to help.

Those patrols with Joel weren’t as awkward as they were before, either. There wasn’t much more talking between you, but you fell into step with each other easier, taking out both Infected and the occasional bandits with less difficulty.

While it wasn’t the same as your familiar contest with Tommy, your traded banter with Eugene or your mentorship with Jesse, you found yourself actually coming to appreciate the steadfastness of Joel’s presence when he rode and fought beside you. When he wasn’t treating you with such extreme disdain, you could almost understand why Tommy was so fond of his brother.

Almost.

Joel still irritated you. He was just as gruff and rude as ever, even if he wasn’t as antagonistic towards you as before. If you would try and crack a joke, he would just stare at you until either you awkwardly coughed, or he just shook his head and looked away. If you would try and ask him questions, he would give you short, one-word answers that got you nowhere.

He still annoyed you. Especially when his hand would brush against yours as he handed you some rations. Or when he stood so close you could smell the earthy, heady scent that made your head spin. Or when you would feel him watching your ass as he boosted you up to an area you couldn’t reach, but looked away quickly whenever you glanced back at him to try and catch him in the act.

Joel was still a bastard, because he wouldn’t say anything about those moments. But later you would replay them in your mind, helpless to the memory it brought to the forefront of your mind, unable to suppress it any longer.

It was embarrassing, how often you had slipped your hand between your legs as you thought of Joel at night. In the back of your mind, you could almost remember the feeling of his fingers playing with you instead. You would try to relive how it had felt for those fingers to be rubbing your clit and thrusting in and out of you. You would visualize being bent over your own kitchen counter as he fucked you against it, moaning into your pillow as you made yourself cum again and again just from the memory of his touch.

That memory almost felt like a hallucination, the fact that you had actually had sex with the grizzled, stoic survivor seeming more like a fever dream than reality. At times you were certain you really had just dreamt it. But then you would remember the morning Joel had passed by you as you sat on your porch, drinking coffee from an engraved mug, and how fast he had looked away as his steps quickened past your picket fence.

Oh, so he does remember, you had realized as you hid a smirk behind another sip of your coffee, glad you had been sitting outside that morning to catch his reaction to you drinking from that mug.

It was infuriating, because that heat that simmered between the two of you was still there, even as you both tried your best to ignore it in the light of day. What you did with yourself at night with the memory of him, however, was your secret alone.

And that was fine. You were finally settling back into the calm that Jackson offered. Those hiccups Joel had thrown into your practiced routine were smoothing over with the strange, unspoken truce between the two of you.

But then that was also ruined, the night Tommy actually did manage to take you both out for those drinks.

Your discomfort at the situation was matched only by Joel’s as Tommy shoved whiskey filled glasses into his hand and then yours. You shot a glance at Joel from the corner of your eye, watching as the man lifted a shoulder in a resigned shrug before tossing back the shot, followed by Tommy and then you.

Tommy’s joy as he ordered another round was almost infectious, a smile tugging at your lips as you glanced over The Tipsy Bison to see it busier than it was most nights. Either the warmer weather was brightening everyone’s spirits, or they all just had the same spontaneous burst of energy that Tommy had when he showed up on your doorstep to drag you out with him. Joel had been standing behind him, looking more uncomfortable than you had ever seen him as he looked anywhere but at you while you stood in your doorway.

The second sign that your fever dream of him was real, and that he remembered it just as much as you did.

“So,” Tommy sighed after knocking back another shot, placing his cup down and grabbing the bottle of whiskey the bartender had left to make refills easier for the three of you. After refilling his glass, Tommy turned back to you and Joel with an easy grin. “I’ve heard good things about your patrols.”

Neither you nor Joel said anything as Tommy sipped from his glass, waiting for you to reply. Which you didn’t.

“Guess you don’t hate each other as much as you thought,” he teased, waiting to see if he could get a reaction out of either of you.

You merely shrugged, and Joel took another sip of his whiskey.

Tommy sighed, shaking his head as he picked up the bottle to refill your glass once you finished it off.

“Well you're both chatterboxes, aren’t you?” he muttered, shooting you both a bemused look, though it held a fondness to it. “Can’t imagine all the riveting conversations you must have on those patrols.”

You glanced at Joel as you sipped at your refilled drink. Neither of you had spoken about the heated argument and ugly words you had thrown at each other during your patrol to the ski lodge, or the panic attack that he had witnessed you having.

The latter you figured he avoided mentioning out of some kind of understanding. You remembered seeing him stumble out of the bar last winter, how he had leaned against the frozen pillar for support. How you had approached him to put a hand on his shoulder, just as he had done to you, even as you both flinched away from being touched during your respective moments of anxiety.

But the argument, you weren’t sure why Joel never brought up again. He had made his opinion of you and your history with the Fireflies, his disdain for the tattoo on your skin, quite clear. Whenever you felt confused on how he had seemed to just let it go, you remembered that look he had given you when the storm had begun to clear outside; the realization you weren’t privy to passing over his face before he offered an olive branch in reaching out his hand to help you up, an unspoken peace offering you had accepted. You didn't know what had spurred him on to extend that unspoken understanding that had settled the disdain-fueled friction between you, but you figured maybe it was also the reason why he never brought up the argument again.

Your name being spoken pulled you out of your internal monologue, and you turned your head to see Tommy looking at you, brows furrowed in puzzlement.

“Hm?” you hummed, about to take a sip from your drink before you realized it was empty.

Tommy reached out for the bottle again, whiskey pouring into your glass as his brow smoothed out and he smiled cheekily at you. A glint of mischief was in his eye, a flush from alcohol tinting his cheeks.

Oh, this was either going to be very good, or you weren’t going to like this at all.

“When are you finally gonna let me set you up with someone?”

You coughed, holding a fist up to cover your mouth as you nearly choked on your whiskey.

“Sorry?” you spluttered, baffled at the sudden topic change as Tommy’s smirk widened, and you felt a heavy gaze settle on you from your other side.

“Come on,” Tommy drawled, his voice playfully boisterous as he leaned back against the bar. “Having somebody is great! And I haven’t seen you with a beau since the moment I met you.”

A laugh escaped you, turning into a fit of disbelieving cackling spurred on from the whiskey as you shook your head at your friend.

“If Dina hasn’t gotten anywhere in that hopeless endeavor, neither are you,” you teased, your laughter doubling at the playful roll of his eyes.

“Qué mala eres." The Spanish rolled off his tongue in a sigh, the language slip a sign that the alcohol was going to his head, and you sighed as you threw back another shot. “You’re missing out, my friend.”

Your head shook, looking away from Tommy only when the weight of the stare on your back had become so heavy that you couldn’t ignore it anymore.

When you turned back to Joel, though, his eyes had already moved away, scanning the crowd in the bar as he sipped silently at the whiskey glass in his large hand.

You blamed it on the effect of the alcohol as you observed how the lights of the bar seemed to brighten the brown hue of Joel’s eyes, making them appear a lighter color than how dark they usually looked. Despite your better judgment that told you to look away, your gaze followed the line of his nose down to his lips as he drank his whiskey, and you couldn’t help but wonder for a moment what it would feel like to have those lips pressed to your own, the one thing that he had denied you when he had fucked you.

His tongue darted out to lick at the drops of liquor on his lips. Desire pooled between your legs as you looked back up, and you jumped when you saw his gaze was fixed on you.

Oh, fuck, you thought to yourself, that desire intensifying as he arched a brow at you, and you realized that he had caught you looking.

Had caught you wanting.

Your hand tightened on your glass, glaring up at him even as his lips twitched into an almost imperceptible smirk.

But it was there.

And it was satisfied.

That damn, nearly unnoticeable smirk made your cunt throb as you realized that you still wanted him. And judging from the look he fixed you with now, maybe Joel still wanted you too.

You looked away hastily, knocking the rest of your whiskey back right as Tommy spoke up again.

“So, big brother, how’d your date with Esther go?”

Whiskey got stuck in your throat as you choked, coughing as you lowered the glass, and Tommy’s hand began to thud on your back to help you clear your throat.

“You okay?” you heard him ask, and you nodded, clearing your throat of the more intense burn the alcohol had left as it didn’t go down your throat as smoothly as it was supposed to.

“Yeah,” you croaked, shaking your head with another cough as you waved your hand dismissively. “Yeah, I’m good.”

You ignored the looks each brother was giving you as you stared straight ahead, refusing to look at either in protection of your own pride as Joel asked Tommy, “What’d you say?”

The question made you bristle, something in his tone telling you that Joel knew exactly what Tommy had asked, but wanted that line of conversation to continue.

Or maybe the whiskey was just going to your head, you thought as you turned back around to the bar and grabbed the bottle to refill your glass.

“Esther!” Tommy said brightly, and you held your glass a bit too hard. “How’d it go? Did you like her?”

Joel shrugging caught your attention, and you looked back to see he was looking out of the corner of his eye at you, before he looked away and replied to Tommy, “Yeah, she’s nice.”

You turned back to your glass, taking the whole shot before refilling it again.

“She has a great sense of humor,” you heard Joel add, your fingers tapping impatiently on the counter as you chewed on the inside of your cheek.

“See, I told you!” Tommy’s voice was full of excitement, even as your mood continued to worsen the more information was revealed about Joel’s apparent fucking date. “I knew you’d like her. You’re a good match.”

Another shot was knocked back in one smooth motion before you spun around to face the brothers again.

Joel went on a fucking date.

Joel “I’m not sticking around here”, doesn’t-want-a-relationship fucking Miller went on a fucking date.

The thought made you bristle with anger, even though you knew it shouldn’t. It made you mad because, fuck, going on a date meant that he might be getting his dick wet with other women, when he had already fucked you and was looking at you with that dark, sultry gaze earlier as he licked his lips and fuck.

It took you a moment before you noticed that the attention of both Miller men was on you, and you realized slowly that the expletive had actually left your mouth instead of just staying in your mind, interrupting whatever they had been discussing now.

You looked from Tommy’s confused expression to Joel’s blank one, the slight curl of his lip that he hid behind his whiskey glass telling you all you needed to know as your gaze shot out towards the room.

Over in the corner of the bar, Gustavo was playing his trusty banjo with a few other musicians. A small group of residents, friends and couples, were dancing in an open space next to them.

A smile grew on your lips as you slammed your empty glass back down on the counter, sending Joel and Tommy an easy grin while you walked backwards away from them.

“If you’ll excuse me, boys,” you drawled, giving them an over-dramatic flourish of a bow, one you thought Dina would be proud of, “I’m going to go dance.”

Your smile melted into a smirk, your gaze lingering on Joel for a second too long before turning around and confidently making your way to the area where people were dancing.

The shots were definitely going to your head, but you found it hard to care where the music was louder. It didn’t take long before you were swept up in a dance, spun around in the arms of a man whose name you couldn’t remember. It wasn't often that you allowed yourself to let your hair down like this, but the rhythm of the music, the fast pace of the dance, and the alcohol dulling your thoughts made the memories you always tried so hard to forget fade further into the background.

And if the carefree feeling from dancing wasn’t making you laugh, then it was the feeling of a heated stare fixed on your back as you giggled and turned through the steps of the lively dance.

You could feel his eyes on you, and even though you didn't look back towards him as you danced, you knew it was him. That intensity was unmistakable, familiar now in its weight as it focused on you, even as you weren't looking directly at him. It spurred you on, getting closer to your dance partner than was necessary, and relishing in the feeling of that stare sharpening on your steps as you did so.

After a few songs you were starting to feel too hot, too dizzy to continue this charade. Exchanging lighthearted bows with your dance partner, you laughed a bit more before backing away. While you had approached the dancing with an ulterior motive—one that seemed to have been successful, judging by the gaze you could feel on you throughout the dances—you found that you had actually enjoyed yourself, your head clearer and heart more carefree than you had felt in ages as you tried to find where you had left the Miller brothers.

“Whore,” a voice pretended to cough as you passed by a table, and you paused.

You turned slowly, that rare happiness you had felt evaporating as you looked back to find a face you had a hard time placing a name to. He looked a little younger than you, his features weaselly as he held back a snicker, surrounded by a group of a few other stupid looking young men.

“Excuse m—”

“What was that?”

Your own voice was interrupted by another, one lower and more menacing than your own, coming from some place close behind you.

Glancing back over your shoulder, you saw Joel had found you before you could find him. His face was carefully devoid of any telling emotion as he stared past you at the man who had apparently just majorly fucked up by calling you a whore.

You looked back as the man shifted, seeming unsettled by Joel’s presence, and then it clicked. This was that bastard that you had been drinking with last winter, the one who Joel had knocked on his ass in the snow outside this very bar.

“Alright,” you sighed as you pushed a few loose strands of hair out of your face. “Let’s just—”

“You heard me,” the man at the table repeated, trying to sound confident as he pushed himself to his feet, even as his voice was shaking. He glared back at Joel, seemingly spurred by some stupid sense of wounded pride or suicidal tendencies. “I called her what she is: a whore.”

You laughed, louder than you should, devoid now of any carefree feeling from earlier. Surely you were drawing the attention of those drinking nearby, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care about that right now.

“Right, I’m a whore for drinking and dancing with friends?” you asked, eyes blazing at the audacity of this man as you felt Joel shift and move around you. “Because I refused to sleep with you when you asked so pathetically?”

The man whose name you still couldn’t remember—something that made the situation even more hilarious, even though nobody knew that fact except for you—took a step towards you at that last jab you made, though his path was quickly interrupted as Joel stepped in front of you.

Joel’s hand grabbed the man’s shirt roughly, pulling the bastard closer as his carefully stoic face began to melt into a rare display of...anger? It was an intimidating, nearly terrifying look that you had seen directed towards you once, but now it was showing in defense of you.

“You speak that way to a woman again, and you won’t be so lucky as to leave with just a bruised ego this time,” he murmured, the low words deceivingly soft as they rumbled from his chest.

The weaselly man looked between Joel and you, forcing laughter even as he could tell he was outnumbered. His next words were his own fault, the final nail in the coffin as he sneered to Joel, “Shit, I can’t imagine the pussy is actually that good for you to defend—”

A crack filled the air as Joel’s fist collided with the man’s face, sending him flying back into the table where his friends sat behind him.

“Joel!” you shouted, grabbing his shoulder to try and pull him back, even as he didn’t budge. “Jesus, Joel, you can’t just—”

You continued to tug at his shoulder, and when he finally looked back at you, the man shifting on the table caught your eye, and your words cut off. The glint of something sharp followed the sound of glass shattering, and you stepped in front of Joel before you could think twice about it. Your arm lifted to defend yourself, letting out a yelp of pain as you felt the broken bottle slash across it.

Chaos descended upon the bar.

Shouting rose up around you as you saw a few men grabbing the stupid son of a bitch who just tried to instigate his own funeral by attempting to cut Joel. You turned, the sound of Tommy’s voice shouting pulling your attention as you saw your friend holding back his brother, who was trying to escape his grip to fight the bastard with barely contained fury.

“One punch,” you heard Joel muttering angrily as Tommy kept pulling him back. “Just one punch, teach him a fucking lesson—”

“You already taught him a lesson, Joel, you broke his fucking nose!”

You blinked, pulling your arm up to look at the blood trickling down it. While you felt slowed, almost out-of-body by the combined dampening of adrenaline and alcohol, the action seemed to finally grab the attention of Joel and Tommy. The men abruptly stopped their struggle as they turned to you.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Tommy addressed the gathering crowd loudly, pulling their scattered attention to him as he stepped forward to grab your assailant by the back of his shirt collar. He shifted into his authoritative tone as he continued, “No more excitement for tonight.”

Tommy looked between the bleeding man he was holding onto and Joel, sighing before he said in a level tone that commanded respect, “Maria will have a word with you both tomorrow. For now, go treat your wounds.”

He gave a small shove that was hardly gentle to the guy, who stumbled away as his friends rose to escort him out. Tommy glanced at you, mouth opening as Joel pressed some clean napkins he had picked up from a nearby table against your bleeding cut.

“I’ll get her treated and home safe,” Joel said quietly to Tommy, the younger brother glancing between you two with a furrowed brow before you nodded at him.

“Go tell Maria what happened,” you added softly as you held the napkins to your cut. “I’m fine.”

Tommy sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he muttered something along the lines of not knowing what to do with the two of you, before leaving with a nod and short farewell.

Joel’s hand found a spot between your shoulder blades, gently ushering you out of the tense atmosphere you had created and into the fresh spring air outside. The chill of the late night breeze sobered you up a bit as he continued to lead you in a direction that you slowly realized was in the opposite direction of your house.

“Wait, but my house is—”

“I have first aid at my place,” Joel interrupted your confusion in a short tone, to which you raised an eyebrow in response.

“So do I,” you said slowly, watching as he stared at the dark street ahead like he was refusing to look at you.

Even with his hand still pressed firmly on your upper back.

“I don’t know where stuff is in your house," he muttered, still not looking at you as you turned onto the darker streets of one of the residential districts in Jackson.

You snorted, a small smirk creeping on your lips as you blamed the alcohol flooding your system for fueling your cheeky remark.

“Yeah you do,” you muttered, and he finally glanced back at you in disbelief when you added, “You know where the mugs are, at least.”

Joel shook his head as he led you to his house, saying nothing else aside from muttering to himself, “Jesus fucking Christ.”

You laughed at that, unable to resist the humor in his exasperation at the situation, even as his hand finally fell from where he had been guiding you when you stopped outside a large house. When he led you up the steps and through the gate to his new home, you whistled low, nodding in appreciation at the scale of it.

“Damn, Joel, they set you up in a place way bigger than mine," you drawled, smirking again as you heard a quiet scoff escape him from where he had moved to walk ahead of you.

Yeah, the alcohol was definitely to blame for sarcastically teasing Joel so much, even as he continued to give you replies that were as short as always.

“Shut up,” he muttered, though not unkindly as you crossed the path up to the porch.

A smaller building nearby caught your eye as you waited for Joel to open the door, and you turned to see a garage with the lights on a bit farther away from the house.

"What's that?" you asked, nodding towards it, and Joel followed your gaze after the front door swung open.

"Ellie lives there," he muttered, offering no further explanation as he walked into the house, and you followed without any more questioning.

The few tones Joel spoke with were familiar enough now for you to know when not to press something. Even though you tolerated each other's presence more than you had before, Ellie was still a topic that he rarely discussed, and you didn't push him on it. It wasn't your business, anyway.

You glanced around you, trying to take in your surroundings as you entered the home, maybe gain enough of an opinion to critique his taste in décor if it was poor. But he herded you down the hallway, not giving you a chance to collect any witty remarks as you walked through a makeshift washroom-closet and into a kitchen on your left.

“Really, a kitchen again?” you teased, snickering at his annoyed huff as he sat you down at a small table next to a window, even as you were surprised at your own blunt reference to an act neither of you have dared to discuss openly since his return.

“You’re insufferable when you’re drunk,” Joel muttered, maybe more to himself than to you as he went back into the washroom to rifle through something.

“Says the drunk man who broke somebody’s nose,” you bit back with no small amount of snark, unable to hide your smirk as he reappeared with a first aid kit and a humorless expression that made you laugh.

Joel pulled the other chair at the table over next to yours, sitting in it as he set the first aid on the table.

“Insufferable,” he repeated to himself with a shake of his head, opening the kit and pulling out the supplies he needed to clean your wound.

Joel peeled away the napkins that had stuck to your skin, and if he saw you wince, he ignored it. He focused on his task, making no attempt at small talk as he made sure the bleeding had stopped before applying disinfectant. You held back any reactions from the sting, watching him as your head tilted in quiet observation, his silence giving you a moment to think.

Genuine surprise had flooded your being when Joel had stood up for you at the bar. While you had seen hints of a rare, odd sense of something almost akin to chivalry in the older man, the fact that he went so far as to break a man's nose rendered you into disbelief.

If somebody had told you months ago that Joel Miller would deck a man in the face because they had called you a whore and made an out-of-pocket remark about your pussy, you would have laughed for a long, long time in incredulity. Hell, you still wanted to laugh from doubt at it happening even now. There was no time, no universe, in which Joel—the man who had regarded you as nothing more than a nuisance—would commit such an act for you.

Yet here you were, sitting in his kitchen as he tended to a shallow wound that you had taken on his behalf. A favor for a favor, you supposed—his defense of your honor, your defense of his body.

“What?” Joel asked, sparing a glance up towards your analytical gaze and pulling you out of your inner monologue. He looked back down at your cut, wiping the cotton drenched with disinfectant over it again as you considered how to respond, wondering how much of your thoughts you wanted to reveal, if any of them.

“Just thinking about what a Southern gentleman you are,” you finally revealed in a light tone, holding back a snicker as he shot you a bemused glance.

“What?” He repeated, his voice holding more confusion this time, and you sighed. The sound was melodramatically tired, as if you were exasperated by his lack of understanding. Inspired by Dina's penchant for theatrics, even though you were only teasing right now.

“That’s the second time you’ve defended my honor,” you said the last few words cheekily, mocking a posh accent when you spoke of honor as Joel huffed at your strange show of dramatics. The next words were more serious though, more contemplative as you observed him and asked, “Trying to repay those debts?”

He shook his head, tossing the slightly bloody cotton pad to the side as he picked up a medicine cream that would help the cut heal.

“Still doesn’t count,” Joel muttered, squeezing some of the cream out onto the tip of his forefinger before gently running the rough digit along your injury. The feeling of his coarse touch against your skin made you shiver, the sensation a reminder of how it had felt when he was thrusting his fingers inside of you.

“Because I could have handled it myself?” you finally asked once you had pulled yourself out of the vivid memory, blaming both the flashback and the flush on your cheeks on the whiskey.

Joel hummed in affirmation of your question, screwing the top back on the cream once he had finished spreading it along your cut, and setting the tube back down.

“I lost my head,” he finally said quietly after a moment of silence, and your gaze refocused back on him from where it had been wandering around the room, taking in his interior design choices. “I shouldn’t have.”

“Eh,” you shrugged a shoulder, a small smile tugging at your lips. You didn't know why he had lost his head, but you found yourself unable to ask why before you admitted in a softer tone that you surprised even yourself with, “I don’t…not appreciate it.”

Joel didn’t look at you, and you didn’t look at him as you cleared that hint of softness out of your throat and mind. You were unaware of the sentiment until you had said it, and you were eager to rebury it in the back of your mind, in the empty grave all memories of Joel had managed to claw their way out of since his return to Jackson. Maybe if you buried it well enough now, he would stop haunting your subconscious.

You took another moment to glance around his kitchen that was much larger than yours. The sight of a coffee pot on the stove made you laugh, turning back to him with another smirk as he picked up a roll of gauze.

“Are you going to offer me a cup of coffee?” You asked slowly, not really sure where this constant influx of sultry snark was coming from, but you were powerless to stop it. Must be the alcohol.

You were surprised by the quiet chuckle that left Joel’s lips, a sound you had never heard before that made your heart skip a beat. The small smirk dancing on his lips made your stomach flip as he replied surprisingly smoothly, “I guess I do owe you one, huh?”

A smirk of your own was your only reply as he spared a glance up at you. Joel shook his head, gaze turning back down as he bandaged up your arm.

“That’s a bit overkill,” you remarked, examining the bandage he had wrapped around your entire forearm as you rotated it once he had finished.

“It gets the job done,” Joel sighed, packing the first aid kit back up and flipping it closed again. “You should be glad it wasn’t deep enough to require any stitches.”

“Because you would’ve done a shitty job and given me an ugly scar?” you asked, not expecting a response as he stood and took the kit back to the washroom.

“Yup,” you heard his deep voice respond from the other room, and you couldn’t help but laugh at the blunt admission as you leaned back in your chair.

It was...weird, this almost amicable atmosphere between the two of you. You had never spoken to each other so easily before, and you blamed the strange phenomenon entirely on the whiskey you both were drunk off of.

Glancing through the other doorway into the adjoining dining room, you noted that Joel had a lot of warm earth tones in his home. It was cozier, more homey than you would have expected. You wondered idly if Tommy or Ellie had helped him with the furniture choices, or if it had been all him.

The colors and the feelings they evoked also reminded you of how he smelled of that earthy scent you couldn’t name as he licked and bit down your neck.

You cleared your throat, shifting in your seat as arousal stirred within you. Joel walked back into the room, pulling your attention when he sank back into the chair that was still next to yours, his knee brushing against yours once he was seated.

Silence that had become typical between you fell again.

“So,” you started slowly, fingers tapping against the table, desire pooling between your legs as his knee brushed against yours again. You cleared your throat, trying to find a topic to distract yourself from the fact that his presence was much too close to you now, nothing distracting you from his annoyingly magnetic presence.

When a topic from earlier flashed through your mind, you grasped onto it quickly as you teased, “Esther, huh?”

Joel groaned, running a hand over his hair and effectively messing it up, the look of the disheveled, gray curls only making your lust stronger as your knees pressed together. Shit, maybe this topic wouldn't work.

“Don’t start,” he muttered, not looking at you in favor of rubbing the badly healed scars on his knuckles that you had noticed in your kitchen months ago.

His words were pointless though. Despite your best judgment that told you to take the opportunity to switch the topic, you had already started, and you wouldn’t stop now.

“With a name like that, she must be as old as you, right?” you asked, arching a brow as he turned to watch you blankly. You couldn't stop a snicker and smirk as you added, “Like, from the 1800's old?”

Joel sighed, shaking his head as he rested an elbow on the table and dropped his face into his hand.

“Can’t imagine the sex is good, if she’s that old,” you continued, spurred on by his exasperation, and grinning impishly as he groaned into his hand.

“She’s nice,” he finally muttered, hand falling away from his face even as he kept looking down at the table, and you nodded along slowly.

“Right, nice," you assented, not sure why the words made you restless as you glanced away from him.

You kept nodding, looking around the kitchen, when your gaze fell on the coffee pot again. A smirk grew on your lips as your eyes darted back to his, and your chest fluttered in excitement when you saw he was looking at you from the corner of his eyes now.

“I gotta admit, I didn’t think you were the type who liked ‘nice’, Miller.” The words were dark, almost sultry, and you saw something in Joel’s gaze shift as it focused entirely on you.

“Oh yeah?” His deep voice rumbled in his chest, his arched eyebrow begging for more of your defiance as he leaned towards you just an inch. “And what type do you think I like, exactly?”

Your fingers continue to tap a rhythm against the table, slowly moving closer to where his own hand rested until you were right next to it. Your touch hovered inches from him even as you continued to tap the surface around his fingers, avoiding touching him directly, only letting your fingers graze against his occasionally. A whisper, a temptation, a plea to touch him again.

“Sluts,” you answered slowly, the filthy term rolling off your tongue as Joel’s eyes darkened on the way your mouth formed around the word. “If I’m remembering correctly.”

He said your name in a low tone, the sound a warning, but you only saw it as a challenge.

You leaned closer, your fingers still dancing around his hand, head tilted with a sly smirk. Joel’s knee pressed harder against yours as you slowly spread your legs, and his gaze flashed down between them, his hand curling into a fist as he understood exactly what you were implying.

“You’re drunk,” Joel said quietly, voice husky as he tried to turn you down, even as he refused to look away from your opened legs.

“So are you,” you whispered, your fingers finally grazing directly over the top of his hand, and he jolted.

Joel leaned back from you, gaze darting away from you, and your stomach almost dropped from disappointment, maybe even embarrassment, before he looked back at you not even a second later.

“I—” Joel shook his head, swallowing thickly. “We shouldn’t—”

His eyes caught on your seductive smirk, and he shook his head again, the defenses in his gaze falling all at once as he breathes out, “Fuck.”

Joel’s hands were on you within a second of the murmured curse, pulling you roughly out of your chair and into his lap. His head buried in your neck, tongue and teeth finding your skin as you moaned loudly from the feeling of him suddenly pressing against you because finally, finally. You had been wanting him for weeks, even though you had tried to deny it, and now you finally had him again.

And maybe you were both drunk, maybe you both would regret it in the morning. But you wanted him now, just as much as he wanted you, and that was enough.

Your hips rolled, pushing your throbbing clit against the erection that was growing in his pants already, even as all he did was mouth at your neck.

“I make you this hard just by being in your lap, Joel?” you murmur, continuing to grind your hips against him, and he grunts.

“Shut up,” Joel muttered, pulling his head back, and you darted down towards his lips before he grabbed your chin in a firm hand.

“No,” he said stiffly, his gaze serious even as it became clouded in lust from the feeling of your clothed pussy pressing against his hard dick in his jeans.

“You have this rule for every girl you fuck?” you whisper, rolling your hips against his faster, and his look of annoyance faded into one of hazy desire as his eyelids fluttered and his head fell back. Your tone was more biting as you added, "Did you have it for Esther, too?"

“You really do have a sharp mouth, don’t you?” Joel muttered, and you laughed, jolting forward and pressing against his chest when he suddenly slapped your ass. “Pants off. Now.”

“So demanding,” you chastised, even as you stood and did what he told you to.

You made a show of it, your fingers circling the button of your pants before unbuttoning it. Joel’s eyes were glued to your seduction as you slowly unzipped your pants, then slid them down until they pooled at your feet on his kitchen floor, and you stepped out of them.

“Panties too,” Joel murmured, his hand rubbing his thigh as he leaned back and watched you, and you laughed breathlessly.

“What happened to your Southern manners?” you teased, and Joel raised an eyebrow.

Without a word, his finger reaches forward, dancing along the hemline of the dark, simple panties you were wearing. His finger curves under the band on your thigh, the rough pad of it skimming against your skin before he grabs the banding and swiftly yanks, snapping your panties and letting the fabric fall to the floor.

You blinked rapidly, unable to help the light laugh of surprise that left your lips even as he nodded towards the table behind you.

“Sit.”

Shifting backwards, you pressed your hands against the table and hopped up, bare ass pressed against the cold surface as you smirked at him. You spread your legs for him, and Joel inhaled sharply through his nose, his hand twitching on his thigh as if he wanted to touch you, but still he held back.

“Touch yourself,” he murmured, and your eyes widened before the words sent desire curling low in your stomach.

You placed your hand on your lower stomach, fingers spread as you dipped down lower, until you slid them through your folds that had grown wet from his words and your grinding against his hips.

“Already so wet,” Joel muttered, his hands moving to slowly unbutton his jeans even as he kept watching you touch yourself.

The sight of him unzipping his pants caused your breath to hitch, your wet fingers tracing up to begin to rub slow circles over your clit. You bite your lip, feeling the pleasure start to build as you touch yourself while Joel busies himself with pulling his cock out of his pants.

It was the first time you had actually seen it and, fuck, he was big. You already knew he was, had felt every delicious inch of him deep inside of you. But seeing the strong, stoic Joel Miller sitting in front of you now, legs spread with his cock in his hand, hard at the sight of you, was enough to shoot you even closer to an orgasm.

“Don’t you want to feel?” you whispered, shivering with a moan as you watched Joel lift one of his hands and lick his palm slowly. A brief thought passed through your mind, wondering what that tongue would feel like working at your clit instead of your fingers, and you began to stimulate yourself faster.

“Oh, I will,” Joel gave a small smirk, one that grew just a bit at the moan that left you at the seductive teasing and that downright fucking sinful smirk.

“Fuck,” you whispered, eyes glued to his hand as it found his dick and he began to pump himself slowly.

Joel grunted, and you locked the sound of it away for later, for those lonely nights where you had only your own hand and no other company to bring you pleasure. He fists himself almost lazily, eyes drinking you in as your fingers picked up on your clit. Your mouth opens, breath coming in small pants as your hips begin to lift towards your own touch.

“That’s it,” Joel murmured, and you resisted the urge to close your eyes and tilt your head back, too intoxicated by the sight of him getting himself off just from watching you touch yourself. “Make yourself cum because of me.”

A loud moan escapes your parted lips, hips bucking up into the air as you rubbed your clit faster, finding just the right angle as your pleasure crests, then explodes through your body as you lose yourself in the mind numbing bliss of an orgasm.

Joel stood as you moaned through it, hands finding your sides to lower you back against the table even as your thighs twitched from the aftershocks of the orgasm. He took a moment to appreciate the sight of you spread across his table, your face flushed and pussy dripping wet from an orgasm, before he collected your release on his fingers and spread it across his dick.

He pumped himself a few times, placing the head of his cock against your entrance as you looked up at him, licking your lips in anticipation.

“You ready?” he asked quietly, and you nodded quickly, legs wrapping around his hips as he slowly pushed into you.

Even though you had already felt him inside you before, it felt just as delicious as the first time you had fucked as his dick entered you inch by inch. Your cunt gripped him tightly as he bottomed out, his palms placed on either side of you, bracing himself against the table as he leaned down.

For a moment you wondered if he was going to break his rule, but Joel stopped before he could get close enough to kiss you. He seemed to be trying to collect himself, brows furrowed and eyes dark as sin as he pulled out of you a few inches to thrust back in.

You moan at the same time he does, though Joel was much quieter as he pulled out to thrust back in again.

And again.

The sound of the wooden table creaking, the legs scraping against the tile of the kitchen floor as Joel fucked you was almost as deliciously sinful as the sound of skin slapping against skin with each thrust. One of your hands grabs the edge of the table above your head, your other hand snaking down to rub your clit as he begins to thrust faster.

“Fuck, you—” Joel cut himself off, still holding some part of himself back, even now when he was fucking you like you were both utterly depraved, sinful beings. Which you might be.

“So good,” he finally mutters, his hands coming up to grab the top edge of the table around your hand, his forehead falling to rest against the table next to your head so you could hear every grunt, every sharp breath of pleasure leave his lips as he fucked you. “Feel so good.”

“Mm,” you moaned, nodding desperately to agree even as the ability failed you to concisely word the pleasure that was building. “Close. I’m close.”

Joel also nodded beside you, turning his head so his lips could graze your ear.

“Cum on my cock,” he whispers against it, breath fanning against the sensitive skin, and your hips jerk forward to meet his hard thrusts, fingers desperately rubbing your clit until the climb of pleasure broke, and your orgasm washed over you.

Your back arched as you cried out from the intense pleasure, soaking in the feeling of your quivering walls gripping every inch of his dick as he fucked you through your high.

“God,” Joel groaned, grabbing your hips as he leaned back, pulling you roughly against him to meet each of his hard thrusts. You fought to keep your eyes open, vision blurry as you watched his head lean back, lips parted as his eyes squeezed shut in pleasure.

He bucked into you hard once, twice, before pulling out, his hand finding his dick as he pumped the cum out of his cock to land on your inner thighs. Joel panted, eyes opening and glazing over from the ecstasy of his orgasm. His chest kept heaving as he continued to catch his breath, even as his gaze lowered to look at you spread out and well-fucked on his table beneath him, his cum dripping down your thighs.

“Here we are again,” you murmur once you could find your voice, the words hoarse, your eyebrow arching as a tired smirk turns up your lips. “I think you might have a thing for kitchens, Joel Miller.”

A huff that sounded a bit too much like a laugh escaped Joel’s lips, and he shakes his head as he tucks his softening dick away. He turns, walking over to his counter, and your head drops back against the table, mind swimming with the desire to give into the gentle lull of sleep in the sweet afterglow of sex.

“Here,” Joel murmured, and you opened your eyes to see he was holding out a hand towel he had used to clean his hand.

You take it with a nod of thanks, pushing yourself up with weak arms until you were sitting up well enough so you could clean the mess he had left between your legs once again.

He took the towel back once you were done cleaning yourself, moving into the attached washroom to supposedly drop it somewhere to be cleaned later before walking back out to meet you.

Joel’s hand reaches out, an offering to help you up, and you give a small, amused smile at the familiar situation as you take it.

You stumbled a bit as you stood, and Joel’s hand tightened on yours minutely, helping you steady yourself. You murmured a tired thanks, leaning down to pick up your ruined panties, shoving them in the pocket of your pants once you pulled them back on.

“I’ll walk you home,” Joel said quietly, and your eyebrows shot up in surprise as you looked at him. He rolled his eyes, gaze averting as he muttered, “I promised Tommy.”

“Ah,” you nodded, the thought of your friend making you wince because, shit, you’ve fucked his brother twice now.

Maybe Joel was thinking the same thing, because you both went quiet as you fixed yourselves up so you looked presentable enough in case you ran into anybody else on the walk back to your house, and not like you had definitely, without a doubt just fucked each other. Your legs were shaky as you left Joel’s house, but you had walked further distances on more unsteady legs before. This wasn’t that hard.

It was quiet, the chirps of insects the only sound you could hear other than the echoes of your shoes tapping against the pavement as you walked down the empty streets of Jackson. Luckily, you didn’t end up running into anyone as you rounded the corner onto your street, and saw the familiar Number 27 that you called home.

Or tried to call home.

You sigh quietly, hands shoved inside your pockets as you glance back at Joel. The two of you came to a slow stop in front of your fence, and after a moment of trying to catch his eye and failing, you shrugged to yourself as you reached out to push the gate open.

“We can’t do this again.”

The words made you pause, and you glanced over your shoulder back at Joel.

He still wasn’t looking at you, his gaze turned up towards the night sky. Jackson wasn’t so well-lit that you couldn’t see the stars, and one glance up showed that the multitude of those stars were twinkling in the clear expanse of midnight blue before you looked back down.

Your eyes traced over Joel’s face, over the strong nose, gray scruff, and wrinkles that were from both age as well as a hard life of survival and loss.

“Yeah,” you found yourself agreeing quietly, your feet shifting away from him, walking backwards down your path as you didn’t look away from him just yet. “Yeah, we can’t.”

Finally you turned, walking silently the rest of the way up to your porch. It wasn’t until you were through your door and shutting it behind you when you felt that familiar, intense gaze on your back.

You ignored it.

#joel x reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel x reader smut #joel miller slowburn #joel x f!reader #joel x female reader #a stranger's heart series

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itsthesinbin · 2 months ago

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Sins in Stardust [Chapter 5: Business of Mystery] (Bill Cipher/Reader/Stanford Pines)

Warnings: Bill being weird with his eye, mentions of previous abuse

Also I did decide that this is gonna be a polycule, so Ford's getting added in here. As much as I love Stan, I'd rather put him by himself than throw him into THIS mess. He'll show up later, though!

Feedback appreciated :3

Read the fic on AO3 here!

If you like it, reblog it!

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

You found yourself out in the woods, the stars twinkling above you as you walked. A firepit in the distance was your only point of reference. You felt eyes on your back, but couldn’t bring yourself to look behind you. You were too determined to make it to the fire. Your dad only lit it when he wanted s’mores. You didn’t want the old fart to eat all the chocolate before you got there.

You stepped onto the little cobblestone path to the cabin your family rented every summer. You heard a buzzing noise around you, but there were always flies and mosquitoes out this time of year. You didn’t think anything of it as you made your way toward your parents. Your dad was making a double chocolate s’more, while your mom was getting out another pack of graham crackers. They talked happily, but you couldn’t make any of the words out.

A few flecks of ashes landed on your face, much akin to snow. You wiped the ash from your face, only to realize more was falling. Your parents froze in place, their faces distorted. The static noise grew louder as you looked up.

The stars burned bright. You faintly heard screaming in the static, but couldn’t look away.

You took a sharp inhale as you woke up. You sat up quickly, your body wracked with faint trembles. Your phone’s alarm buzzed and, with shaking hands, you turned it off. 10 am- you had wanted to sleep in a little bit before having to deal with your car problem. Among other problems. At least you had a couple days of rest, since you had to wait for the weekend to pass before you could call your insurance company.

Speaking of other problems, you looked over to the bench under the window. Bill had gotten that spot when you refused to let him have the entire bed, after an argument about “WHAT IF I GET KIDNAPPED AGAIN”. You two were given a different room, no longer facing the woods, so less likely to be a round 2. You had to dig out one of your spare blankets for him, but he seemed content on the window seat once you assured him the gnomes wouldn’t come back. He did when you went to bed, at least.

Bill was sitting up, staring out the window. You could see his expression in the reflection. He had a thousand yard unblinking stare, completely unaware that you were awake and watching him. The blanket was gripped in his fists. Were he human, you didn’t doubt the knuckles would be changing color. You swallowed, throat feeling tight and chest heavy. You knew that look well. You found it in the mirror often.

“Bill, you feel like breakfast?” You decided not to bring it up right now. You barely knew the guy, and doubted he’d be willing to open up even if you did know him. He jolted, seemingly having forgotten you existed. The mask was back on in an instant. He threw the blanket off like he had just woken up, stretching and yawning loudly.

“I could eat,” he said as he hopped down. You grabbed your hot plate and a pan. You had bought some actual groceries to keep in the mini fridge, not wanting to order food every day while here. You didn’t know if you were allowed to cook in the room, but what the owners didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them.

Bacon and eggs sounded good. The room had a coffee maker included so you got that going, too. Didn’t know if this guy needed coffee, but you weren’t gonna be rude. You pulled the food out of the mini fridge, asking how he wanted his eggs. Sunny side up. You wish you had a triangle mold to cook the eggs in. You didn’t know if Bill would’ve found it funny, but you would have.

“I gotta call some people about my car. After that, we can figure out something about your… friends, I guess,” you told him as you grabbed your phone. He groaned, clearly thinking your business was an inconvenience to him. You chose to ignore that and called your insurance company. You gave Bill his coffee and plate as you argued back and forth with your agent. Bill was watching the show, occasionally laughing or calling your agent a little bitch. You had to admit, the peanut gallery did make you feel not AS angry during the call.

Ultimately, there was nothing to be done about the car. You opted to look for a place to scrap it- maybe you could get money for the parts that were salvageable. You sat down with your plate and coffee, rubbing your forehead. Bill whistled.

“Sucks about your ride, kid! Once I liberate this place, I’ll get you a sick ass motorcycle. One of the fancy ones that runs off of human blood and fear!” You sighed.

“Thanks, Bill,” you replied humorlessly. A motorcycle did sound cool, though. Not the blood and fear part, but maybe you could get a motorcycle. You always wanted one. You were never allowed something so reckless, though. You shook your head, eating your food. You didn’t wanna think about what you weren’t allowed to do, before you got out here.

“About your friends,” you started after you were halfway through your breakfast. You had a few sips of coffee, and some time to wind down after the call, so you felt like you could tackle the main issue. Bill rose his brow, taking another drink of coffee through his silly straw. He didn’t bother turning his eye into a mouth this time, simply shoving the end of the straw into the corner of his eye. You had to turn away for that, and he laughed in response.

“Did you remember anything that could help us find them? Anything at all?” Bill gave you a groan that answered the question. Clearly not. He set his cup down and dropped his face onto the table. You frowned a little. Poor guy.

“How about something fun, instead? Maybe while we’re out, we’ll find some clues that’ll jog your memory,” you offered. At the idea of fun, he perked up a bit. He put his hands on the table as he stood. It had been a couple days since the gnome incident, so you felt it was safe enough to try and get out for a while.

“Can we go rob the liquor store?” he asked, as if he was a kid asking to go to the candy shop. You stared at him, brows raised in disbelief. Your expression must’ve said it all, because he sat back down with an exaggerated groan. You rolled your eyes, a slight smile on your face.

“No burglary until we’ve at least been friends for a week, Cipher,” you joked as you pulled your phone out again. You looked up fun things to do in Gravity Falls, missing the way Bill’s expression changed at the word “friend”. A mix between disgust and confusion. He mumbled something you didn't bother paying attention to as you scrolled through tourist trap after tourist trap.

Bill came around to look over your shoulder. You tilted the screen to let him get a better view. You both passed on mini golf and the history museum. Mini golf could be fun, but after yesterday you didn’t wanna spend the entire day outside. Then you scrolled further, to the lesser-rated stuff.

“UGH this is taking too long! Why do humans gotta PLAN everything?” He groaned, flopping back onto the bed. You stared at your phone but didn’t register what you were looking at. This guy was a baby.

“I gotta plan in case something goes wrong or you don’t like it.” The response came out without you thinking. Bill scoffed.

“Who gives a shit? If we don’t like something, we’ll leave and do something else! Easy. You already did it once!” You paused. You were used to having to meticulously plan events by yourself, while having to worry about another’s reactions. He was right. You could just Go out and do things. If you didn’t like it, you could leave. You already did that once, in a more serious way. You felt sick.

“Yeah… Yeah, alright.” You put your phone away. Bill looked up, giddy, as you went to go get dressed. It clicked that he was going outside and jumped up. He put on his, admittedly terrible, disguise. He bounced on his heels as he waited, but thankfully you came out quick. You wanted to go before you lost your nerve.

You two exited the hotel. As usual, Bill got a few stares. Seemed like no one really bothered to look too closely, though. Or if they did, no one said anything. Good thing, cause lord knows you’d have no idea what to say.

You two wandered the town for a while, sticking bill to your side closer to buildings so he was less likely to be seen. Billboards and signs for various businesses stuck out. The mini-golf course still caught your eye, as did the McGucket Technological Museum. But something caught Bill’s attention along the walk.

He jogged a little bit ahead, making you follow suit. A shabby sign for a tourist trap called the “Mystery Shack” was Bill’s goal. It looked old, and had paint chipping from it. It barely had any info about the shack itself, besides an address. You looked up the address on your GPS. Bill still hadn’t said anything.

Then his fist went through the sign, where the building itself was painted on. You jumped, nearly dropping your phone in surprise. His shoulders heaved, other fist so tight it was trembling at his side. You took a step toward him and he whipped around with a wild look in his eye. Your blood ran cold and you froze in your spot. Despite you having a good couple feet on him, you felt miniscule under his gaze. Like an insect he was about to crush under his foot. You were back in your apartment at that moment, ready to dodge whatever item was about to be thrown at your head.

“Man, pain isn’t as fun when it’s your body!” You both were back on the street. Bill shook his hand, kinda laughing even though you could see the cringe of pain through it. You stared at him, heart hammering in your chest, as he turned to follow the sign’s directions.

“Let’s go see what humans consider a “mystery”! It’ll be funny- bet it’s just an old skull or something. I’ll show you a REAL mystery, when I get my powers back!” He walked a bit, before looking back to see if you were following. He didn’t address his outburst beyond the mention of being in pain. You took a slightly shaky breath, before moving to catch up. You pulled a bit ahead, leading him off since you had the GPS. You decided to keep quiet, with Bill yapping about random bullshit the entire trip.

“- and THEN I said it wasn’t MY fault he didn’t specify he needed a HUMAN heart. How was I supposed to know that a donkey heart wasn’t “compatible” with human anatomy?” You heaved out a sigh of both annoyance and relief as the Mystery Shack came into view. It was a bit of a hike out of town, but the path was nice.

A hidden cabin out among huge pine trees. Multiple old signposts either shaped like arrows or had arrows and question marks painted onto them. A few people flitted around the giftshop, or headed back to their cars. Man you missed your car.

“Dunno if they’re still doing tours right now.” Bill blinked at the sound of your voice. You hadn’t talked this whole time. Bill had definitely noticed your mood, and constant glances over at him whenever he got a little loud or animated during his stories.

“But maybe we can get a stupid souvenir,” you said with a little smile on your lips. Bill could live with that. Maybe there was a funny hat in there!

You two stepped into the tight gift shop, dodging an overly-flirty couple exiting the building at the same time. You and Bill looked at each other, grossed out, before moving to look around. Bill gravitated toward the little replica statuettes of displays that the shack supposedly had.

“Wow, these look like shit,” he laughed. You shook your head and decided to look at the novelty tees. You pulled out a few, deciding if it was worth the ridiculous price tag, when you heard footsteps approach you.

“Welcome to the Mystery Shack, dude! You new in town?” You looked up at the tall man standing near you. He was big, with a bit of stubble and front teeth that stuck out a little more than they should. He was dressed in a suit, with an eyepatch and a red fez on his head. He just beamed at you, excited to have a new customer. You nodded, telling him your name and shaking his hand when he stuck it out.

“You can call me Mister Mystery- or Soos. I usually answer to Soos, though,” he laughed. You smiled slightly. This guy seemed nice enough, despite the theft he was pulling with the merchandise prices.

“So, you own the place?” You leaned against the wall near the novelty shirts. He waved his hand in a ‘kinda-sorta’ way.

“Not really but kinda. Basically I run the place now, but my boss and his brother own the building. I just keep it runnin’,” he answered. You nodded in understanding. You subtly put the overpriced shirt back on the rack while he talked about the shack. You heard small feet trot over to you.

“Look at this thing, kid! Some idiot just hot glued a chicken’s head to a squirrel!” You and Soos looked down, seeing Bill holding exactly what it sounded like- a taxidermied squirrel with a chicken’s head. You snorted a little bit at the sight of it.

Soos froze, looking between you and Bill. Bill stared up at him and you felt a knot in your stomach. You could see the recognition- and fear- in his eyes. Bill, however, was unfazed.

“How much for this thing, fatso?” “Bill!” “What?” That seemed to knock Soos back to reality. He stepped back, fear in his eyes, as he turned to the redhead at the checkout counter who was dozing off between customers.

“WENDY! WE GOT A CODE DORITO! FLAMIN’ HOT!!!” She was alert instantly.

#gravity falls #bill cipher #ford pines #stanford pines #bill cipher x reader #ford pines x reader #stanford pines x reader #bill cipher x reader x stanford pines #bill cipher x reader x ford pines #sins in stardust

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lamprophonia · 1 year ago

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》 [ yandere!Jock. ] 《

character intro. masterlist.

yan!jock x gn!reader: random prompts. 1393 words. reader referred to as 'you'. general yandere content warning that goes for all my works, but nothing specific here.

DO NOT USE OR REPOST MY WRITING ANYWHERE.

author's note: was in the mood for a few random prompts. no real continuity between them, they're at different points within the larger relationship darling would have with elijah, i just wanted to write something slightly different than just headcanons :^) prompt list is linked to at the numbers.

☆ 23. "oh, don't worry, this isn't my blood. it's the blood of the person who touched you earlier today.”

at this point, you probably should have been used to the near constant presence of eastview's golden boy, following you around incessantly. still, someone putting their bag down and plopping down across from you at your library table made your head snap up.

you gave the visitor a cursory glance. unsurprisingly, it was him. elijah steele in all his glory.

surprisingly, or rather worringly, the front of his white t-shirt was spattered with reddish brown stains. blood. blood elijah didn't seem to be in any rush to clean or address in any other way as he just gave you the usual greeting of a nod and smile, pulling his books and his notes out.

you took out your headphones. "are you okay?" you asked plainly, not returning the greeting or the smile — your brows were furrowed in a concerned, confused, and almost stern look.

elijah's polite expression turned confused. "yeah? why wouldn't i be?" he chuckled. the look he gave you was one of intrigue with some sort of edge that felt almost patronizing.

"the blood," you responded, showing to the stains on his shirt.

elijah glanced down for a second, and his grin grew with understanding. "oh, yeah, i'm fine." he waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "don't worry. it's not mine."

although he got back to doing his work without flinching, his statement made you pause. "what do you mean it's not yours?" you questioned, looking him over. the skin on his knuckles was split and also bleeding. not a good sign.

"i mean, it's not mine," elijah repeated and lifted his head to meet your gaze again. the condescension behind his smug little smirk was almost palpable.

"it's the blood of that asshole that tried to shove you around a few days back. you don't remember?" he chuckled, speaking as if the answer should have been obvious.

"excuse me?"

"you're excused."

"no, i mean–" you gave a exasperated sigh, "why is his blood on your shirt?" you questioned. elijah didn't seem to be bothered by your frustration. worse, the little shit seemed to be entertained by it, his smirk growing into a proper smile.

"because i beat him up?" again, he answered as if it should have been obvious.

"elijah– the– what? you can't–" you sputtered, your confusion outgrowing your concern. "you can't just, like, randomly beat people up." the words felt stupid coming out of your mouth. why were you being forced to lecture an adult on not getting into fights? this isn't some complicated rule of etiquette, it's normal behavior.

"oh, on the contrary," elijah shot back with a shit-eating grin. "i am perfectly capable of 'just, like, beating people up.'"

"elijah, listen–"

"in fact, i'd say i'm quite good at it."

"elijah–"

"probably the best in the school."

"listen–"

"besides," he cut you off for the third time in a tone so firm that it made you stop trying to get a word in and close your mouth, "it was hardly random. he cut in line. he shoved you. he deserved it."

elijah shrugged, and the two of you were left in a staredown. the guy from a few days back was rude, sure, but he didn't do anything worth getting his teeth knocked in, or whatever else the bloody knuckles elijah was sporting suggested he did.

you pondered leaving for a second, not really feeling the idea of just glaring at elijah in silence. unfortunately, he noticed your glance towards the door and his hand quickly moved to his bag, ready to grab it and follow you if you left.

little shit.

not like there was anywhere else you could study in... relative peace. "i'm not happy about this," you grumbled, ending the staring contest by going back to your books.

you heard him snicker as you were putting your headphones back in. "believe me, sweetheart, i noticed."

☆ 128. "just give it a little time! you'll get used to it, i know you will!"

the past few weeks have been interesting for you, to say the least. moving to a new high school in your senior year would have been an interesting enough experience on its own. getting confessed to by the most popular guy in said new high school would have pushed it over the top, especially since you were pretty sure he was the fakest person you've ever met.

now, to add further onto this truly fascinating experience, it seemed elijah steele did not take the hint when you rejected him. instead, he's been... shadowing you, in a very talkative manner.

he's been acting like the two of you were friends, even though you've had maybe two conversations with him — one of which being the one where you shot sown his advances and called him out on his fake demeanour, so, really, it is beyond you how he got besties from that interaction.

but alas, there he was. sitting down right at your table during lunch, as he has been doing for the past three days, with a smile that suggested he thought everything about this was perfectly normal.

needless to say, you thought otherwise.

"oh, holy fuck, look at him," elijah snickering breaks you out of your thoughts. you shake your head slightly, realizing that you were staring at him, and turn to where he's pointing.

it's another lunch table where a guy — one you know from some class, actually, although his name escapes you — is walking up to a girl — some popular senior who you only know from instagram stories and anecdotes from parties elijah insisted on telling you. her name is like alexandra or amelia or something else starting with a. the guy is looking nervous as all hell, which elijah seems to find hilarious.

"moron. he thinks he has a shot with her," elijah laughed quietly, his attention completely focused on the guy apparently trying to ask the girl — alissa? — out.

yours was instead focused on elijah. on how he looked at the small scene unfolding, how he nudged you in the shoulder as if this was an inside joke. how, despite his sweet demeanor with all his other friends, now he was eager to rope you into making fun of some random guy you might have chem with. or bio.

you knew he was fake, but the mean glint behind his eyes you were seeing now was making discomfort pool in your stomach.

"why are you here?" you blurted out without thinking and immediately regretted it when you saw how elijah's head snapped back to look at you. a smile tugged at the corners of his lips, a hint of condescension behind it.

"what do you mean? why wouldn't i be?" he chuckled.

"we're not friends," you answered. your tone was a bit more harsh than intended, but the words remain true nonetheless. whatever. maybe a bit of harsh is what this situation calls for. "i don't like you, i rejected you. why do you follow me around?"

now, he laughed. "oh please, of course we are. besides," elijah leaned back a bit in his seat, his hands in his pockets, looking relaxed as ever. "i figured you could use someone to show you around."

"you know, since you're new and all that." he shrugged, conveniently avoiding the other two points you made. a good excuse, if there ever was one. one that fit perfectly into the sweet, golden boy reputation elijah held at eastview. one that did not fit at all into the patronizing look he was giving you.

"i don't even like you," you reiterated. "stop following me around."

he rolled his eyes, the smile not fading from his face for a second. "give it a few weeks. you'll get used to it. i'm not that bad, promise." he actually had the audacity to wink.

you gave an exasperated sigh. elijah, however, looked downright entertained by your frustration, not minding the glare you were shooting him.

you turned your head, searching for an empty table you could move to. behind elijah, the scene he called your attention to earlier was concluding. his prediction appeared to be correct — the guy was walking away from the girl's table, looking dejected.

unfortunately for you, the cafeteria was full. you'd have to settle for ostentatiously avoiding your tablemate's patronizing looks for the rest of the lunch period. not that he seemed to care, content to just look at you with an amused smile on his face.

#🏅 // e. steele #writing #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #yandere x darling

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arcanadreams · 5 months ago

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Times Cal Saw Sorenn in Kit!Traveler

Do you guys remember this post from like a whole ass year ago? WELL after playing a6 again and getting caught up with episode 8, I finally got the inspiration to write something based on it! I've always felt that Sorenn was underutilized by the narrative, especially in the case of Kitalphan travelers. And even moreso on the Calderon route. So, I have taken it upon myself to write a little ficlet of some ways I think Calderon would see bits of Sorenn in a Kit!traveler. Traveler is referred to with gender neutral pronouns and is given the name "Traveler" so that everyone can insert themselves as they please! I banged this all out in like two hours so apologies ahead of time for any grammar mistakes LOL

Times Cal Saw Sorenn in Kit!Traveler

Eyes

In the seconds following him being, in hindsight, probably the biggest asshole imaginable, Calderon had the gall to ask their name. More specifically, he had the gall to ask “What did you say your name was?”

They blinked in surprise before staring at him a moment. It looked like they were processing both the fact that he had even bothered to ask, and that he had managed to still be rude about it. Their gaze turned incredulous as their eyes met.

Those eyes. Calderon resisted the gasp of air that threatened to escape his chest. Their eyes looked practically identical to Sorenn’s. They were the exact same color, at least. He didn’t get a good enough look at their shape in that brief moment to decide if that was the same, too. It was likely a coincidence, anyway.

“I didn’t, but…it’s Traveler,” they said, and this time he was unable to keep his expression neutral. One of his eyebrows quirked instantly, uncontrollably. That name was familiar. Undeniably so. And yet he didn’t know where he’d heard it. He shook his head; he was being foolish. He just missed Sorenn dearly and his mind was playing tricks on him because of it.

“Well, whoever you are, we’ll be dropping you off in Teranium once we get there. I suggest you come up with a plan before then. The streets of Nos Vega are not kind to the unprepared. Until then, unless you can do something useful, which I highly doubt, stay out of the way.”

Despite his harsh words, he still couldn’t keep himself from giving them one last once over before he left the bridge. To anyone on the outside looking in, it would seem as though he were sizing them up, to see if they were worth anything. Which, well, he was. But it was an excuse for him to check if those eyes really were that same shade.

They were.

Posture

The first time they did it, it confirmed Calderon’s suspicions of their wealthy background. After all, that little trinket they had with them when June brought them on board was made of Kitalphanite; whoever they were, they had credits. And likely, high social status.

So when the doors of their room slid open and they saw him standing there, and adjusted their posture, it didn’t shock him one bit. They straightened out their neck, aligned their shoulders, crossed their arms, and jutted their chin out ever so slightly. After living in the high end of Goldis for so long, he knew noble posture when he saw it. It almost made him scoff.

When their eyes met again, though, he was once again reminded of Sorenn. Sorenn often used to do much the same posturing, but he did it as a joke. He often struck a similar pose when he mimicked his royal siblings; well, the more troublesome ones, at least.

But Sorenn had also used what he called “royal body language” to his advantage, as well. It often came out when other members of the guard were being difficult, or if anyone gave him or Cal a hard time. It was an offensive maneuver, of sorts. A “do you know who I am?” without saying the words out loud. And it always worked, and always left him and Sorenn laughing.

As he and Traveler discussed the trinket, which they discovered was a music box, and he apologized for his rudeness on the bridge, he noticed their stature grow less rigid and their shoulders relax. He was glad to see it.

Sociability

Traveler may have started out hiding in their room most of the time, but they started growing comfortable aboard the ship somewhere during the trip to Cursa. Cal could tell, with how often he heard them talking or laughing to someone. Usually it was Ayame, Sebastian, or Ryona. They didn’t get on very well with Damon; but then again, who did? Though he couldn’t really blame them after suggesting selling them out to their family’s murderer. And June, well…that was complicated.

They took a surprising interest in everyone’s hobbies, of all things. They started helping Ryona with her plants on the regular. They’d sit with Ayame on the bridge and talk about anything and everything. Every now and again, they could be heard giving Aya’s shitty karaoke machine a go. They started helping Bash in the kitchen, both because they wanted to learn to cook and because they wanted to spend time with him.

They were also perfectly content with sitting in silence in the company of others. Once or twice, he had found himself and Traveler sitting in the common room of the Andromeda Six. No words were spoken, yet a sense of companionship lingered in the air. It was…nice. He hadn’t had someone to be alone together with in quite some time. The last person he could sit in companionable silence with was Sorenn, actually.

As a prince, and one of the older ones at that, Sorenn almost always had to be in “Peg’asi mode.” Always presentable, always powerful, always charming. But when his battery was drained, when he didn’t want to be a prince anymore, he would sit with Calderon in the barracks of Orsanna’s Guard during their training days, and they would just be quiet together.

Traveler really was like their older brother.

Compassion

He regretted snapping at them as soon as he’d done it. “Very few people have had the luxury of growing up in a golden palace, with servants to cater to their every whim,” he had said, harsh and unwarranted, and stopped himself abruptly. Traveler looked at him with confusion and hurt in their eyes, and he felt like a dick yet again.

Yes, Cursa was a dangerous place. But what had he yelled at them for? For being kind? For showing the same compassion Sorenn always had for people down on their luck? He didn’t have to join the Guard; he wanted to. And if Sorenn could have joined Cal in the Bronze District, he would have; he’d said as much. But as a prince, the leaders of the Guard, and for that matter, his father, King Fenris, would never allow him to be stationed anywhere less than Gold.

And here was Traveler, showing that same compassion, digging into their pockets for a donation for a starving child when they know damn well they don’t have a credit to their name at the moment. And yet they still hoped to find some way to help.

He was shocked when they purposefully caught up to him after his outburst. “I didn’t mean to snap at you earlier,” he said. “I can’t even begin to imagine what you must think of me.”

He was even more shocked at their reply. “You’re a good man,” they said. “I can see that. You’re also incredibly stubborn and ill-tempered, but surprisingly, I like that about you too.”

“You do?” He asked, and they nodded with a smile. There it was again; that compassion.

~~~~~~~~~~

And yet, for all the ways Calderon saw their older brother in Traveler, he also saw, well, Traveler.

Their eyes were the same shape as Sorenn’s, too, not just the same color. The two of them must have both gotten Nikolle’s eyes. But Calderon had met Traveler’s gaze enough times now to see the differences. The corners of Traveler’s eyes always crinkled when they smiled; they smiled with their entire face. It was like their joy overtook them every time they laughed. And when they were excited, their eyes twinkled in a way that brightened them to almost an entire shade lighter than they typically were. The first time their eyes lit up at the sight of him, Calderon couldn’t breathe.

For Traveler, the “royal posture” wasn’t a joke. It wasn’t a tool. It was a comfort. He noticed whenever they did it. That telltale straightening of the neck, aligning of the shoulders, crossing of the arms, and jutting of the chin. They did it when they felt unsafe. The first time he realized the meaning was on Cursa. When Alisa approached the crew, they did it before she was anywhere near them. They did it when she got close to him and Damon. They didn’t ease up when they outstretched their hand to shake hers, offering a pleasant greeting. They stiffened up more when she laughed at them. They were emulating their older brother to feel confident, to feel safe, and Calderon felt a lump in his throat whenever he thought too hard about it.

Sorenn was sociable and likable, but it was because he was born and raised to be that way. He knew all the right things to say and when to say them; he once confided in Cal that sometimes he didn’t know where the prince in him ended and the person in him began. Traveler, on the other hand, was likable without practice. They were painfully genuine in their every interaction. They had confessed to him that, after being left alone in the palace for so long, they hardly ever liked to be without company. Sitting in silence with someone wasn’t a luxury for them because they had been forced to be around people; it was a luxury for them because for so long they had been without anyone. Sorenn was molded into a charmer; Traveler was left alone to grow into a lover. Calderon would sit in silence with them forever, if only the circumstances of the universe would allow it.

Traveler’s compassion went beyond that of their older brother. It went beyond that of the average person, in fact. Once, when walking into the common room, Calderon heard a sniffle. Following the sound, he saw Traveler curled up on the couch. He immediately made his way over to them, brows furrowed in concern. They had their knees hugged to their chest, their face obscured. Soft sobs shook their frame. He called out for them, and they jumped, not having heard his approach. Only when their legs lowered did Calderon see the open book resting in their lap. The book Damon lent them ended with the dog dying, they explained, frowning, their lip still quivering slightly. With a fond smile, Cal reached out to wipe their tears. He cupped their cheek when he finished, moving forward to press a kiss to the top of their head. Truly, what had he done to deserve someone so sweet?

~~~~~~~~~~

Once, after a particularly rough nightmare, Traveler stumbled their way to the captain’s quarters.

“I had a dream about Sorenn,” they said when the doors opened, still heaving and trying to catch their breath. “You are the only person I know who…I just…I need someone who understands losing him.”

“You haven’t lost him fully,” Calderon whispered as he tugged them into his arms. “So much of him lives on in you.”

#WOOOO DID ITTTTT #i'm very happy with this #tho i didnt really know how to end it LOL i winged that ending hard #but oh well it's my fic i get to end it as abruptly as i want #feedback is very welcome!!! :DDD #posts #my writing #andromeda six #andromeda 6 #calderon lynch #calderon #the others appear but it's cal focused so i'm only gonna tag him

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walli3darl1ng · 2 years ago

Note

Hello can I ask for something? Please… How would Wally and his friends react to the human and albino reader?

(the reader is as white as snow, and he always has to go out with an umbrella so he doesn't get burned/hurt in the sun)

I did some research before writing I wasn’t ignoring you 😭

Also love this! I think it’s good. I didn’t kinda rush it I’m running off like two hours of sleep so🧍🏻also I know you referred to reader as ‘he’ but I wanted it to be gender neutral just so everyone is welcome. But you can change it if you want.

Also I think I’m going to draw this albino reader! I have an image in my head and you look adorable!!

But enjoy I hope it’s your to your expectations!

＼＼\\٩( 'ω' )و //／／

Wally was the first to notice a new house in his neighborhood and he just had to introduce himself, maybe ask you to have a picnic with him and his friends this afternoon.

“Okay, Home! I’m off to meet our new neighbor.” Wally gets creaks and taps are a response from Home as he slips on his cardigan. “That’s nice. What do you think they look like?”

Home opened its door, responding to his questions to go find out for himself and he was off after a short goodbye.

Walking along the colorful and cheerful neighborhood he makes it to the new house. It’s beautiful but—

It’s huge! The doorknob was far from his reach, Wally wasn’t intimidated, he thought this was the coolest house he’s ever seen besides Home.

Knocking on the tall and large door he waits patiently. All of a sudden he started to feel nervous? What if their new neighbor is as tall or more taller than his best friend Barnaby? Maybe Poppy?

The click of the door gained his attention and he looked up to be blinded by breaking heavenly light.

In actuality it was only you in your comfy, flow-y clothes looking confused at the air.

Wally was mesmerized. He didn’t think a human would ever come to this neighborhood let alone someone who wasn’t colored in. You are as pale as snow. Hair pale as well. The only color he could see were your eyes and was a pink-red reflection from the slight sun that was peeking through.

Snapping out of it for a second time he greets you. “Hello, neighbor! Nice to meet you!”

You jump at the voice and look down while holding your hand to your heart in shock. You see a short puppet smiling up at you with sleepy, low lidded eyes. “Oh! I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you. It’s really nice to meet you..”

“How rude of me! I’m Wally. Wally Darling.” He smiles.

You give a smile back and hold your hand out to shake his, being careful of the light. “It’s nice to meet you, Wally. I’m Y/n.”

What a lovely name. Fits perfectly. He looks at your hand then back at you before looking back at your hand. You had five fingers, not four. How interesting.

“Um…Wally? Is everything okay?” You're getting nervous, was it something you said?

“Oh no, not at all! It’s just that,” he gets a hold of your hand gently and feels it with his other hand, feeling the smoothness and tracing the lines. “I’ve—well not to sound rude but I’ve never seen a human before, let alone one that’s white as snow. Do all of you look like this?”

You shake your head and let out a chuckle. “No. We all come in different shapes and sizes as well as different colors. The world would be boring otherwise, don’t you think?”

Wally nods, still staring at your hand before remembering something. He lets go of your hand and looks up at you. “Oh right! I came here to invite you to a picnic my friends and I are having this afternoon, care to join us?”

You frown and immediately Wally mimics it. He doesn’t like your frown, it doesn’t suit you at all. “Afternoon? While the sun is out?”

“Is that a problem? Do you not like it?”

“It’s not that-“

“Please? Everyone would love to meet you!” He insisted, giving you a pleading face that no one can resist.

And you fall victim to this adorable pleading and sigh. “Oh alright. I’ll go, just don’t look at me like that.”

“Perfect! Meet us at the hill over there, okay? We’ll be waiting for you.”

And just like that gone. Well, might as well get ready.

Back with Wally he runs back to home, calls everyone for a neighborhood meeting at Poppy’s ASAP then runs out to his little electric toy car and races off to Poppy’s.

When he got there everyone was accounted for so he didn't waste time. “Okay I have an idea to make our new neighbor feel welcome!”

“Oh! Is it a party?” A blonde puppet cheers. “Wait! You’ve met them already? No fair!”

“Oh what do they look like?” A star puppet, Sally adds in.

“You’re not gonna believe me but they're white! Like a blank canvas.” Wally reveals his eyes wide in admiration.

“White as in the color? There’s no such thing.” A gray puppet, Frank shakes his head.

Wally tilts his head. “Well, why not? You’re gray, I’m yellow, we’re all different.”

“Yes but white is translucent-“

“Well I think that’s cool!” Sally cuts in with a smile, her rays spinning with excitement.

“Sally’s right. We shouldn’t be judgmental.” The big feathered puppet, Poppy also known as the mother of the neighborhood, scolded. This gets Frank mumbling and apologizing and getting pats on the shoulder from Eddie, the neighborhood’s postman.

“Well what's your idea, Wally?”

“Oh right!”

~~~skip to later that afternoon~~~

After getting ready to put on some sunscreen, you take a hold of your big sun hat. Which is a normal sun hat but it’s just a bit wider in diameter and has a full body length mesh cover. It’s thin enough to be lightweight and wind to pass through but thick enough to block you from the sun. With a condition like yours it can be pretty painful to get sunburn.

As well as your condition, your eyesight is not the greatest but that doesn’t scare you from walking confidently around a new place. It’s more fun that way. However looking at something for too long can cause your eyes to hurt a bit so you keep them busy by looking at literally everything.

On the way to the hill you see an archway and once walking through it you find a basket on the ground. Curious, you pick it up and look around. Unbeknown to you that the group was spying on you behind the bushes.

“Oh what if they don’t like it? It will all be ruined.”

“Relax, Poppy. The cookies were delicious!”

You open the basket to find cookies and a small note. Reading ‘I hope you like the cookies I baked. Welcome to the neighborhood! —Poppy.’ That’s so sweet! But why not send them to your home? Ignoring it, you keep it and continue forward.

“They look so cool!”

“I know right and look at their hat! They look like flow-y jellyfish.”

You pass another archway and see a bag of fruits, in it, another note. ‘Welcome to the neighborhood! Let’s be friends— Howdy.’

“Should I’ve gone with snacks?”

“No, it's perfect.”

“And healthy. Ha. Ha.”

You giggle at the note, now seeing a pattern and take the bag of fruits and on the bag was a logo called ‘howdy’s place.’ You place the bag inside the basket being careful with the cookies.

Next was a headband with horns, a drawing and a sheet of colorful stickers. Another note, this one was filled with stickers. ‘Welcome to your new home! Let’s have a sleepover okay?—Julie’

“The horns are a cute touch. You guys will be matching!”

“Awe thank you Sally! Do you want one too?”

“Yes!”

“Can I have one?”

“Sure, Wally!”

Moving on after securing the crafts inside the basket you find a letter this time, with some cute mail stamps and colorful envelopes. ‘Welcome home! Hope you feel welcomed— Eddie.’

“You have more of the envelopes?”

“Sure! I’ll send some over.”

Next, there was a small whale plush, really soft! ‘Whale-come home!—Barnaby.’ You laugh at the pun and give the plushie a squeeze, now holding it in your arms.

“Nailed it!”

“Good one, bud.”

“Thank you!”

You were almost to the hill. How many more gifts are there? You don’t think you can carry all this.

As you walk the rest follow, quietly of course. Other than Wally none of them have fully seen you and your jay covering you head to toe is making them curious by the second. You then find a small box with stars all over it, opening it you find a beaded bracelet and a note. ‘Hope you like it! Welcome to the neighborhood!!—Sally.’

You’re starting to get emotional, no one has ever done this for you. With your condition, your genetics, other people didn’t like it. For whatever reason you got teased about it, you never really know why.

Wally and the gang make it to the hill before you since you crouch down to re-arrange the item to fit in the basket as well as put on the bracelet Sally gifted you. The last two surprises they needed to be at the hill.

Frank leans down to Wally and whispers his concern. “Are you sure this will work?”

Wally hums and looks up at him before looking forward, waiting on you. “I’m sure of it.”

“Hey Barnaby! Help me with the sign?” Julie asks, her and Sally holding up the welcome home sign that Wally painted as well as all their small notes and signatures. It’s a gift for you, so you could hang it and remember this moment.

Back to you, you walk up the slope as a butterfly flaps around you. Timidly, you hold your hand out and the butterfly lands on your hand. Your hat becomes visible and that was Frank's cue to send the swarm of butterflies. He’s not a butterfly whisperer but he does know a lot about them.

In awe of the thousands of butterflies a cheerful bunch of voices ring in your ears. “Welcome home!!”

Once the butterflies flap away you get a clear view of the sign and everyone under it. To say the least you were speechless, they all did this for you?

“Is this all for me? Gee, I don’t know what to say, thank you!”

“Y/n, come join us. Don’t be shy.” Wally gestures you over and into the shade. “Why are you wearing that? We can’t see you.”

“Oh, sorry! I wear this to protect myself.” You explain, walking over and sitting down next to Wally all the rest are now fully interested in you.

“Protect yourself? From what exactly?” Eddie asks.

You are worried they will tease you like the rest and after a short silence, Wally reassures you that it’s okay. Believing him you took a deep breath and took your hat off.

Wally was right. You’re white as snow. Sally and Julie thought you were ice royalty with the flow-y clothes and hat acting as your crown. Or like a jar of white glitter shaking in the sunlight.

Barnaby thinks you’re cool! Really unique and one of a kind. He wants to try on your hat so bad. Eddie, Frank and Howdy think this as well, they see you as one of a kind and they may or may not want to try out your hat as well. What? They say it’s cool looking and they can only imagine what it looks like from the inside. Can you see? Does the wind feel nice? They wanna know.

Poppy was a little more nervous. She thought you were more fragile than you actually are. You looked like a porcelain doll to her and she’s afraid she’ll break you.

What caught their eye was that you are human! They’ve never seen one up close before. Were all like this? Maybe it’s a human thing? Do all five have fingers? You don’t have a tail or floppy ears, no feathers nor horns.

“Questions.”

“Hm?”

“The hat is supposed to protect you, is it to prevent you from breaking?”

You smile at Sally’s question and hand over your hat to Barnaby since the big beagle was making grabby hands at it. “It protects me from the sun, otherwise the sun can hurt me.”

“How? The sun is warm.”

“Well as you can tell I’m really pale,” you show your arm for them to see and you almost lose it when they lean forward to get a better look. “I was born with little to no melanin, which is a pigment the body makes to give the human color, like skin, eye and hair color.”

“So you were born without it, how sad!” Poppy frown.

“The sun is just too hard on my skin and will give me painful sunburns if I’m exposed to it.” You give her a reassuring smile, touched that they care so much.

“Wouldn’t you get hurt if you’re out here?” Howdy questions, taking the hat back from Barnaby and setting it on your head. You move the long mesh back to keep your face exposed and you shake your head, gesturing to the tree you were currently sitting under.

“The tree has enough shade to cover me, although still being out here for too long can still hurt me. This hat helps a lot.”

“That’s cool you can live with us. I don’t think I can, I love the sun.” Barnaby pats your head and plays with Julie and sally. Enjoying the sun. There were enough questions for today and now they were just relaxing under the sunlight.

Wally stays with you, holding an apple with care. “Did you like your welcome gifts?”

You turn to him and hum, nodding and smiling. “I loved them. Thank you.”

#welcome home #welcome home x you #welcome home x reader #welcome home wally #welcome home julie #welcome home howdy #welcome home poppy #welcome home fanfic #welcome home frank #welcome home eddie #welcome home sally #welcome home barnaby

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spaceistheplaceart · 2 years ago

Text

Body Swap - How Do I Talk Like That? Part One

can you tell I got a little lazy on this one? aha

masterpost

Summarized ID: Reigen cleans up his appearance and tries to teach Mob about customer service. It makes Mob nervous and he's not quite getting it. Then, the customer comes in.

FULL ID UNDER CUT:

(I'll be referring to Reigen in Mob's body as Reigen and Mob in Reigen's body as Mob.)

A short compilation of Reigen fixing his appearance. He brushes his hair to the side, buttons up his PJ shirt, rolls up his sleeves, and sprays some deodorant under his arms. Then, he comes out of the bathroom and asks: "Well? How do I look?" Mob is reading a book at his desk, and Dimple is looking at Reigen.

Reigen stands with his arms out, waiting for a response. Dimple says: "You're still a kid in PJs, Reigen." Reigen looks to the side and clicks his teeth. "Tch."

He comes over to Mob, who is still reading a "how to" book. He leans over his shoulder. "So, you think you're getting the hang of it?" He asks.

Mob replies: "Not really. It looks complicated."

Reigen asks: "Which part?"

Mob points to a page, his finger is blocking some of the text. "Well... It says phrasing is important, and it ggives an example, but I don't see how this is rude."

The page reads: "Writing is very important. The key is nuance. How you phrase your sentences can make... difference between sounding... you care, and sounding like... of a jerk.

"You have to log out first."

"logging you should... that problem!"

Reigen puts a finger to his chin in thought. "Well, Mob, using 'you' in a request can sometimes be seen as rude, like you're ordering them around." He points to the page. "Also the tone of it. See how it's a period and not an exclamation? That makes it come off coldly."

Mob looks up at Reigen, sweating a bit. He's tense, but his expression is still stiff. He looks back down at the book. "Then, um... Tip #10 says to solve problems in new ways for each customer? I'm not sure I could exorcise spirits in..." He looks to the side, thinking. "Uh... for you to... I mean..."

Reigen interrupts: "Ignore that tip, we aren't doing that."

"Oh." Mob responds. There is a sweatdrop on his cheek. His eyes are a bit wider.

Reigen puts a hand on Mob's shoulder, his other gesturing as he speaks: "The main thing you gotta worry about today, Mob, is just trying to finish the sale. Be polite, figure out his problem, get the where and when... and then help him select a package! After that, It'll all fall into place."

Dimple says: "You're making him nervous."

Reigen leans over to look at Mob's face. He does indeed look a little nervous. Reigen asks: "You'll be fine. You've watched me work enough years, right?"

Dimple responds: "I don't think he's been taking notes, Reigen. He's got a whole life to worry about, why would he be watching YOU so intently?"

Reigen puts his hands on his hips. "Fine! Alright, alright, I'll just teach you a few things-- stepping stones, really. The basics."

He waves his hand. "Ok. Posture. Stand up, Mob."

Mob stands up. Reigen waves around his hand again, the other in his pocket. "Great! See, look at that, you're as straight as an arrow! Already, you've got a basic nailed down naturally!"

"Oh, Thank you, Master." Mob says.

"Now try giving your best smile!" Reigen beams, giving Mob an example of a nice smile. There are sparkles around him. The smile is cute! "Like this!" He says.

Mob tries to mimick it, but the smile is creepy. All his teeth are drawn in, and his eyes are squinted nearly shut. He's sweating and there's a wrinkle on the corner of his mouth. "This?"

Reigen looks unsure. "Ah... could use a bit of... improvement."

"You look like a serial killer." Dimple says bluntly.

Reigen glares at him and smacks him with the back of his hand. He drops his hand and stares in shock at Dimple. "Wait, did I just touch you?"

Dimple hides behind Mob's shoulder, glaring at him and sweating. "You do that again and I'll kill you."

Reigen looks at him deviously. There's a sparkle beside his head and his mouth is curled up into a cat's smile, much like a :3. He stretches out, dropping the expression, and cracks his knuckles. "Alright. as I was saying..."

We see the silhouettes of Mob, Reigen, and Dimple, as Reigen talks to Mob for a while.

"You think you got it?" He asks. Mob looks down at him, expression blank. "...Yes."

He sits down, and Dimple floats over with a mocking expression. "Don't worry, Shigeo! All you have to do is be good at talking and read the room. You're super good at that, aren't you?~"

Mob glares at Dimple, sweating and annoyed. "No, I'm not. But Master is counting on me, so--"

Reigen pinches his brows together. "Mob, Mob! Adding all this pressure will just make things worse!"

He places a hand on Mob's shoulder and looks him in the eye. "I have complete faith in you?"

Close up of Reigen's face. He looks very nervous, indicating that he probably does not have complete faith in Mob.

Mob looks at him through his brows/hair. "... Thanks."

The door opens, both of them turning to look at the source of the noise.

We see on the top of the head of the client, who has side swept hair and is coloured red. Dimple smirks from the top left corner of the panel and says: "Showtime."

END ID

#mp100 body swap #mp100 #comic #mob psycho 100 #op art #this has been sititng in my art folder for a while so i cleaned it up pa bit and decided to post #here ya go!#long post

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midnightscramble · 3 months ago

Note

Hey, I know this is probably rude to ask, but I'm a sucker for Portia Featherington. Is there any chance you are to write for her again sometime soon?

Lord Featherington Must Die Part 1 (Portia Featherington x fem!Reader)

Part 1, Part 2

The Masterlist

Author's Note: Not rude at all to ask! I promise this is a romance, stick with it and see how it develops. For those who are wondering, the title is in reference to the movie John Tucker Must Die. If it is not to your liking, ask for something else (don't be shy!). Happy readings to you.

Summary: Taking place the season before the Featherington daughters enter the marriage mart. Lord Featherington not so discreetly tries to pursue another woman, inviting her on the family's off season trip to be his eldest daughter's companion. Portia is less than pleased with these events.

Warnings: hurt no real comfort, attempted one-sided cheating, marital issues, domestic violence (a glass is thrown but does not make contact)

Poised, proper, and cool under pressure. That is the mantra Portia Featherington had been raised on, a mantra which would die with her given that all her daughters' had some strain of social ineptness. She was relieved the season had ended, as she could at least take the time to try to train her daughters before their own seasons would be thrust upon them. Archibald Featherington's complete lack of interest in the girls worsened the situation, leaving her to be the only corrector of bad habits. Perhaps once the bustle of the city was far from them, he would participate in raising his children. Not that he had during any other off-season, but still, Portia hoped.

As she organized with Varley what the girls would need for the trip, Penelope approached her tentatively, "Mother, I would like a moment to speak with you." Portia quickly glanced up from the packing list, giving her daughter silent permission to continue. "Lady Bridgerton has invited me to spend autumn and winter at their country estate. I would be Eloise's companion." Portia was taken aback momentarily and her focus settled on Penelope.

Almost all of the Bridgerton sons were unwed and of age, so sending her youngest daughter to them could be an advantage come next season. "What a delightful offer. You may accept on the condition that Phillipa and Varley will go with you as your chaperones. Do be sure to thank Lady Bridgerton for her kindness." Penelope squealed in excitement, and in an uncharacteristic display of affection, rushed to hug her mother. Stumbling slightly, Portia enjoyed the rare moment and held her tightly. Her youngest daughter and she usually elected to forgo familial pleasantries such as hugging, a pattern which Portia wanted to break but did not have a single inclination as to how to go about it.

"Thank you, Mother. I promise to write to you every week!" Penelope broke from her arms and hurried through the house, no doubt rushing to the Bridgerton estate to call upon Eloise. Portia stood by the window to make sure she crossed the road safely, tracking her daughter until she made it to the front door. Before she could walk away, she noticed Prudence and Miss Y/n walking on the other side of the street, with Lord Featherington trailing behind them.

Miss Y/n Y/l/n was a new addition to Prudence's social circle, and a rather beautiful one at that. She had advised her daughter to only spend time with the young woman during the off-season. It would not do her well to stand next to someone so radiant at social gatherings, and would only serve to make Prudence invisible to eligible suitors. However, it would also be important to befriend her. Young women tend to favor platonic attachments, making them less likely to steal dance partners from those they are loyal to. If Prudence could gain Miss Y/n's loyalty now, then the woman would pose no threat when Prudence makes her entrance into society. Despite being titleless, the young woman was to be an heiress to her last living relative, a distant cousin. Which made her quite suitable company for Prudence. Portia found herself wondering what the two women talked about, her daughter was not known for being entertaining, so whatever they were laughing at must be on account of Miss Y/l/n’s cleverness. She broke away from the window and returned to her spot next to Varley, continuing their discussion on what to bring.

Moments later, she heard the familiar sound of heeled slippers bounding up the staircase to the study. Prudence entered the room excitedly, with her arm entwined in Miss Y/l/n’s, “MaMa, Brilliant news! Father has arranged with Lord Y/l/n for us to take Y/n to the country with us!” The redhead clung onto her new friend, rocking back and forth on her heels with pure giddiness. Miss Y/l/n smiled at the matriarch, “If it would please you, my Lady, I would love to be Prudence’s travel companion. My cousin has approved the impromptu trip and is willing to provide the necessary funds for any accommodations you would have to make.” Portia looked over Miss Y/l/n’s shoulder, and saw her husband leaning against the door frame with the slouched posture of a commoner. He looked over the room cooly, feigning disinterest.

Before Portia could respond, her husband interjected, “It would please our family greatly, Miss Y/l/n. I suggest that Prudence accompany you back to the Y/l/n estate and direct your maid in organizing your luggage.” He approached the girls and took each one’s hand in his own, guiding them out of the room, “I’ll have a carriage drawn for you.” Portia did not miss how Archibald’s touch seemed to linger on Miss Y/l/n’s skin, nor how his fingers danced at the edge of her sleeve, discreetly moving the fabric aside to touch her delicate wrist. Portia’s eyes twitched, already theorizing as to what her husband’s intentions were by inviting the young woman on their trip.

With a clipped tone, Portia looked at her maid, “Varley, leave us.” The older woman nodded politely and took her leave, making sure to close the study door to ensure the couple their privacy. Running her tongue across her teeth, she seethed, “I understand that these trips are trying for you, but can you not just visit a house of sin in the country? As you usually do.”

He walked to the desk and poured himself three fingers of whisky, “I have not the faintest idea of which you speak.” He took a long sip, pointedly looking at his wife, “It should be good for Prudence, to have a travel companion.” Portia threw her hands up at the dismissal. She hated this game, where he played the fool and she played the hag. He would never admit to any wrong doings, always denying or having some excuse, making it impossible to truly condemn him. She did not relish arguing with him, and more often than not she preferred to expel her suspicions from her mind, hoping that he was as honest as he claimed to be. At the end of the day, Portia wanted her husband to be loyal, so much so that she would accept his half cooked bluffs as undeniable truths. Perhaps, if she could make herself believe it, it would become true.

She crossed the room, and came to rest a hand upon his chest, “I was hoping that you and I would spend quality time together…” She watched as his eyes fled across the room, silently begging for them to meet her own.

He sniffed and raised his brows, considering her words, “We will, and in order for that to happen, Prudence must be entertained.” Portia moved closer in his arms, resting her forehead on his shoulder. She could put her suspicions aside for now and choose to believe Archibald, it would make the trip much more pleasant for the both of them. He felt her nod into his shoulder and ducked his head to come closer to hers. For a moment, Portia’s breath caught. It was not often that he spared her such affections. She let her eyes close and tilted her head up, allowing him greater access to her lips. When she felt the imprint of his cracked lips on her forehead, she chided herself for thinking after all these years, he would suddenly grow warmer. She supposed that this trip would force them into close proximity, and perhaps rekindle the spark they had felt when they first married. But if that were to happen, she would need to keep a close eye on Miss Y/l/n.

…

Arriving back to the house with footmen holding Miss Y/n’s luggage, Prudence and her friend began discussing the activities they would partake in upon arrival, “I must show you the lake, it reflects an emerald green around sunset, quite the sight.” The young woman pushed the redhead in a playful manner, “So you can push me in? I think I shall skip your ‘tour’ of the lake.” Prudence snorted and immediately covered her mouth as the undignified noise met her ears. A second carriage arrived in front of the estate, confusing the women.

“Are the bags being taken separately?” Prudence questioned the coachman.

“No, Miss Prudence. Lady Featherington and Miss Y/n will be traveling in one, and you and the Lord Featherington in another. Your mother does not want to strain the horses on such a long, cumbersome journey.” Prudence nodded in understanding. She would have argued with her mother about being separated from Y/n, however it was perfectly reasonable for each of the young women to be paired with a chaperone. It would not be acceptable for two young, unwed women to be stranded with footmen, should something happen.

Portia emerged from around the corner, with her husband hot on her trail, seemingly trying to dissuade her of something, “It is unnecessary, we do not need to travel separately.” Ignoring him entirely she joined the young women, “Shall we?” She motioned to the carriages and took Miss Y/l/n’s arm, beginning a very quick stride.

Once settled in the carriage, Portia examined the woman across from her. Even if Archibald was telling the truth, she knew that men were weak when it came to the fairer sex, which is why she was determined to keep Miss Y/n within her line of sight whenever possible and thus out of her husband’s reach. Knowing that if her silent stare went on any longer, her company would surely misconstrued it to be intimidation, the Lady tried to start a conversation, “So, Prudence tells me that you study art?” She tilted her head slightly to convey her faux interest.

“I do. I find the Roman works fascinating-” Portia interrupted her, “It will do you no good to focus on such hobbies, a future suitor may find it off putting, Miss Y/l/n.” A young woman with as much potential as Miss Y/l/n would obviously be educated in all sorts of cultural topics, however, Portia thought she should have enough etiquette to not flex her knowledge.

“Well, I do not intend to marry so the opinion of this hypothetical suitor is not of concern to me.”

Portia stared at her with wide, owlish eyes, “What woman does not wish to marry?” Her eyebrows drew together in confusion. Given that Miss Y/l/n would be an heiress, the only thing she could want for now would be a title, something only a husband could award her. This revelation was truly shocking for the Lady.

“I have no reason to. At this point, a husband would only prove to be a headache.” Miss Y/l/n gave her a tight lipped smile, hoping the display would soften the ill-mannered statement.

“You do not care for titles?” Portia tried to reason. Miss Y/l/n laughed cheekily, making the Lady agitated, “I do not care for the accompanying responsibilities of a marriage.”

Portia hummed, thinking she had figured the woman out, “You do not wish for children.” Miss Y/l/n’s smile dropped and she looked at her coldly, making the redhead shiver. “I do not possess the ability to have children. In my youth, my parents and I were in an accident. In the doctor’s haste to cure me, they removed the vital organs.” Portia sat quietly, reflecting on Miss Y/l/n’s words. From gossip, she knew that Miss Y/l/n had mourned her parents after the tragic accident, however, she did not know of the accompanying loss. Within the span of a few days, she had not only lost her past but her future. Uncomfortable with her prior bluntness, Portia apologized, “My condolences, Miss Y/l/n. I hope I did not cause any harm by asking.”

Waving a hand dismissively, the heiress murmured as her attention was turned toward the window, “It would not be fair, to condemn a Lord to marriage despite not being able to give him an heir. Besides, it is all in the past. … You do not have to call me that. Y/l/n is my dear cousin’s last name. Ever since I came under his guardianship, it has been bestowed upon me… However, I would prefer you call me Y/n.”

Portia licked her lips, slightly eager to please the woman after bridging up such an uncomfortable topic, “Thank you, Y/n.” The young woman gently took the Lady’s hand in her own, letting her know that all was well between the two of them. The heavy firmness of her hold distracted Portia, briefly alleviating her of any and all coherent thought. Y/n retracted her hands and rested them politely in her lap, leaving the Lady feeling a slight loss.

They sat in silence for the rest of the journey, each consumed by their own thoughts. Portia worried herself with the details of the trip, recounting all that had been packed. While Y/n tried desperately to look forward to her escape from the city.

…

By the time they had arrived at the country home, the moon stood proudly above the rolling hills. They trudged out of the carriages and into the home. An array of finger sandwiches had been left out by the staff and Y/n used her handkerchief to gather some before her and Prudence went up to their rooms. Prudence led Y/n to her room in the west wing, and then journeyed to her own in the north.

Archibald made no commentary as he walked past his wife and up the stairs. She followed closely behind him, unsure if he was going to bed or to the parlor. She hoped for the latter, as she had made a request that the master bedroom be prepped for the both of them, rather than have their own separate rooms. He would be much more passive to the arrangement if he had a drink or two before, and to Portia’s relief he took a left towards the parlor. He stripped off his coat and left it hanging over the back of the couch before he mixed himself a drink at the bar.

He hummed in contentment and pressed the glass into his wife’s palm, offering her a sip. She did love these yearly vacations, the weather seemed to relax Archibald and he was always elated after the seasonal return on his investments. His agreeableness and lack of responsibility allowed them to enjoy each other’s company in the country’s splendor. She took a mock sip, not fond of his choice of gin, but not wanting to reject his kind offer. Archibald crossed the room and picked out a book from one of the many shelves full of them, “I am going to retire for the evening.”

Portia clung tightly to the drink and she flashed him a furtive smile, “Then we shall retire.” He looked at her warily, unaware that the master bedroom had been made up for the two of them. She followed him through the halls and his shoulders tensed in agitation. He sent her a grim look over his shoulder, and she widened her eyes to appear innocent. The Lord sucked on his tongue, displeased with her shallow gambit of obliviousness. He knew very well what she wanted and was not in the mood. The Lord tightened his grip on the book.

Upon arriving at the room he quickly noticed that her trunks had been deposited near the armoire, and he spun on his feet to address the issue, “It seems they have made a mistake. I shall send for someone to correct it.” She put a gentle hand to his chest to stop him from leaving the room. He halted and drew away from her, off put by what he interpreted as smothering.

“There was no mistake, I asked for my things to be brought here.” The Lady curled her lips up, in a manner which he used to find seductive, however now instead of inspiring lust, it only inspired aggravation.

Turning away from her, he sighed and tossed the book on the bed, which landed with a heavy thud due to the force. Archibald rested a hand on the nightstand, he slouched as he took a deep breath. Heat rose to his ears as he spoke sharply, “I will have your things moved to the west wing. The guest bedroom is just as large, you shall find it to your liking.”

She moved closer, softly pleading, “Archie,” He turned towards her, snatching the glass from her hands. She flinched at his abruptness but found herself frozen as she watched him raise the glass. Within milliseconds, the remaining liquid in it had sloshed out the sides as his arm drew back towards his head. His knuckles were white as he exerted pressure on the glass, and she couldn’t tell where he was aiming once it had left his finger tips. Blood rushed in her ears as she felt the air move by the side of her head. By centimeters, the glass had missed her. Portia remained in her position, despite the sound of shattering glass calling to her attention. Spit flung out of his mouth, “Dammit woman! Are you incapable of listening? Shall I repeat myself?”

Portia shook her head softly, feeling her nose sting as fear crept up her spine and made her eyes dewy. She rushed to the door and left it open in her hurry to leave. She strode down the hall to the opposing wing, not slowing till she heard the master bedroom door being slammed shut. She moved her jaw side to side, determined not to cry over another one of his temperamental outbursts. Portia reasoned with herself that the stress of the journey had made him tired and irritable. Sighing she entered the guest bedroom, cursing herself for pushing him to this. Sleeping in a slip rather than a nightgown bothered Portia. However, she knew by returning to Archibald, even just to retrieve some clothing from her trunk, she would be putting herself in the path of his wrath. Slightly irked, she folded back the comforter of the bed and slipped beneath the cotton sheets. It would surprise the average Lady of the Ton, how easily Portia slept after such an unsavory argument with her husband, but with great practice comes great ease.

…

Morning came all too quickly for the weary travelers. Portia had slept through breakfast, and when she finally awoke she found a tray of pastries and fruit at the foot of her door. She brought it inside and ate on the balcony. The guest room was pleasant, spacious, and had a lovely view of the landscape. From her spot on the balcony, she could see Prudence and Y/n walking down to the lake on the property. It always perplexed her as to why Prudence enjoyed frequenting it when she had no interest in learning how to swim. Portia was a keen swimmer, and rather enjoyed submerging herself in the estate’s shimmering body of water, while the rest of the family seemed to favor simply looking upon it. She would have to find time to slip away and enjoy the advantages of nature.

From beneath her, she heard the door to the terrace open. Cigar smoke rose in the air, making her nose twitch. She watched as her husband took long strides toward one of the many benches scattered along the path. With a newspaper beneath his arm and cigar in hand, he triumphantly took a seat, completely unaware of his observer. He opened the newspaper as though he were covering his face, and turned his head down the path. Portia followed his line of sight and realized Archibald, much like herself, was keeping an eye on what he felt entitled to. Y/n and Prudence laughed jovially, flicking water at each other with their finger tips. Portia wished she could enjoy the scene, however her husband’s enjoyment spoiled her own.

She figured it would soon be time for lunch, and she did not want the Lord to become accustomed to her absence at meals. Nor did she want him to become accustomed to Y/n’s presence. Portia did not blame the girl, not in any meaningful way. However, Miss Y/n was proving to be an obstacle in obtaining her husband’s attention. She also could not blame her simple husband. If she were a man, Portia would surely pursue the young woman. Y/n was captivating, she moved with grace and was charming in conversation. The fact that the heiress was utterly uninterested in having a romantic life bothered Portia, when really, it should have relieved her for her husband and daughter’s sake. She would not pose a threat to Prudence during the social season, nor to herself in rescuing her marriage to Archibald. Still, the piece of information felt incorrect to Portia. How could eyes, that were so enigmatic in the way they reflected light, not want to gaze softly into those of a lover? How could hands, ever gentle yet firm in the way they clasped her own in the carriage, not want to hold the hands of a betrothed? It seemed like a cruel joke, for a body to be so obviously built for romance, yet be condemned to a life as a spinster.

The Lord coughed, choking on the smoke from his cigar, drawing Portia out of her thoughts. She cringed internally at the sound. One thing that she could never overcome was his unseemly noises. She truly despised the sounds he made when he cleared his phlegmy throat. Dining with him was a task all on its own, given how he chewed like a cow and scraped his fork against the plate after every bite. There were times during her pregnancy with Penelope where Portia would have sworn on her mother’s grave that she could hear Archibald’s snoring from down the hall, forcing her to move to an entirely different floor for the night. Although. when he was awake and stationary, she found him far more tolerable, even amusing. She wondered if all Ladies had such difficulties.

Strangely, his coughing did not cease. He continued to hack, and used the newspaper to catch his spittle. She watched with apprehension as his cheeks became an unnatural shade of crimson, not entirely sure what to do. He recovered himself and took large gulps of air, and Portia released a breath she did not know she was holding. He began to stand and Portia quickly ducked back into her room, not wanting the man to know she was spying on him. Busying herself, she pulled the servant bell. It was time for her to leave the comfort of the guest room and remind her husband that he has a wife who is in need of tending to.

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